#ajax x gender neutral reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hulhudhonado · 6 months

Note

your work is fucking amazing.

hey! hi, hello, how are you? :)

may i request wanderer, (scara, whatever his goofy ahh name is rn), alhaitham, ajax and kaeya reacting to reader, who’s usually not a fan of physical affection, coming up to them and snaking an arm around their waists while resting their head into their neck?

thank you!! 🩷

CW: swearing in wanderer's part because I believe he would say fuck

HC: Reader is gender-neutral, Reader does not have a vision.

Characters: Wanderer, Al Haitham, Ajax (Childe), Kaeya [Seperately]

Note: Thank you so much! I apologise for the late upload as I am currently studying. I got some time for myself so here you go. I hope I do this justice. Please make sure to interact with the post and enjoy it!

Al Haitham

Al Haitham tends to be prepared for whatever is to come, however, the sudden feeling of an arm around his waist was not something he thought he would ever need to prepare for.

Kaveh was finally out of the house, preferably looking for a job rather than complaining about everything Al Haitham did. This also gave Al Haitham the luxury of inviting you over without Kaveh taking your full attention. He wouldn’t say he was jealous, but Kaveh knew how to take care of company far better than he could. It was the one thing that left a sour taste in Al Haitham’s mouth, but he would never let Kaveh know about that.

You both were enjoying the quiet atmosphere of the room, nose shoved in books and lounging in your chairs. It was clear you both had chemistry which didn’t need to involve spoken words or gestures, Al Haitham liked your quiet company and you enjoyed his.

It didn’t take long but he finished his book, a little too fast it seemed because he could still see you weren’t done with yours. Not wanting to bother your reading, he closed the book and stood up to get another one. As he tried to quietly navigate the bookshelf, he didn’t realise your eyes slowly lifting off the pages to look at him.

Al Haitham, back turned, looked through the shelf thoroughly. It was clear he had pretty much read everything else on the shelf. He either had to reread another book or go out to find another one. Didn’t seem like a bad date idea to take you out book shopping with him. However before he could reach a decision, you began your attack.

An arm reached around his waist, followed by a gentle head on his shoulder. Al Haitham tried his best not to flinch but the shock of such an unexpected gesture made him shudder a bit. He turned to look down at you, who had slyly made their way to him without him realizing. You had a gentle smile on your face, happy to catch him off guard.

You both were typically not physical. It wasn’t something Al Haitham was against but it was pretty clear to him that you were not someone who indulged in that sort of affection. So seeing you make the first step was not something Al Haitham had prepared for. He looked back at the bookshelf.

“What are you looking for?” You perked up, trying to stifle a laugh. You knew what you did and you were fishing for a reaction from him. “ A book.” He answered, almost robotically.

“Hmm… I’m certain you read everything on this shelf” You could see the corner of his mouth twitch. It was small but he was reacting, you could feel your ego getting bigger. “Yes, you’re right.” Was all he could muster.

It never occurred to Al Haitham that he would enjoy such proximity to another human being. He tended to avoid any type of physical touch from most people. However, the way you held him just made him feel so warm, especially knowing you would never typically do something like this. He knew he would never recover from this, only wanting more in the future.

“Do you want to go out and get some new books then?” You ask, your head nuzzling closer to his neck. “That would be preferable.” He answered. You let out a chuckle, arm slipping off from him. But before you could pull yourself away, Al Haitham reached out his arm, forcing you to stay in your place, both of you now wrapped in each other’s embrace.

You let out a laugh. “Enjoying this much?” “Can’t say I don’t. “ His response only made you laugh more. “ Well it’s up to you, we could go get new books, or, we could just stay like this. What do you say?” Before Al Haitham could respond, a creek from the door could be heard.

“I’M BACK, OMG YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE THE THINGS I HAD TO DEAL WITH- Oh you have company.” Kaveh burst in, welcoming you the minute he saw you. Luckily for Al Haitham both of your reflexes were fast enough to pull away before he had seen you guys so close to one another.

Standing in front of the bookshelf, barely an inch apart, you both stood trying to seem as normal as possible. Al Haitham couldn’t believe he was getting embarrassed by almost getting caught by his roommate.

Al Haitham wasn’t prepared for what had happened today but he knew you planned to do more of this in the future. Hopefully, he would be prepared for the next time you did attack, and maybe he should find ways to kick Kaveh out for longer. He definitely did not want Kaveh to walk into whatever you both had planned for the future.

Childe (Ajax)

The closest that Childe has ever been able to touch you was probably during your friendly spars. You loved your distance and tended to keep a lot between the two of you. Even though you both had been together for quite a while it seemed you were not the type to get touchy with others. So Childe himself was amused when you decided to wrap an arm around his waist.

“What’s the occasion?” He asked, trying his best to focus on what was written in front of him. It was like you had calculated it. For once he was at the bank properly reading documents at his office when you decided to pop by. Now here you were slithered next to him, wrapped around him with your head on his shoulder.

He tried not to react, but he honestly wanted to throw away whatever he was reading just to return the favour. It was bold of you to do something like this so suddenly at such a random time. You never came by when he was working, even though he insisted. Paperwork was not fun for him but you were a rule-abiding citizen when you weren’t on a battlefield. He just had to know what was going through your mind for you to do this.

“No particular reason. Just felt like it.” You answered, nonchalantly. Your tone was dull and meek, escaping your throat like a whisper. Your usual fighting spirit was not there and he could sense it the minute you spoke. He finally looked at you and it was clear as day that you were not feeling well. Your hair was dishevelled and your eyebags were very noticeable.

Every single scenario flooded his mind. Was it because of work? Was someone rude to you? What happened to the person who would maniacally laugh whenever they got a scratch on him? He wanted to bombard you with questions but he stopped himself. Maybe it was because he was using his brain at this very moment rather than his instinct to fight, but he knew asking questions was not going to make you feel any better. So he reacted instead.

Shifting the documents to one of his hands, he let the other one wrap around you, engulfing into his side, closing any gaps between the two of you. You only responded by letting him do so, completely enveloping yourself in his arms and him in yours.

“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”He asked, giving you one more chance to answer if you wanted to. “I’m alright. Just let me stay like this for a while.” Even if he was disappointed by your response he wouldn’t show it. Instead, he responded with a hum, not prodding you with any more questions and letting you enjoy the warmth he could provide with the embrace.

So you both stayed together, wrapped in each other's arms while he worked. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep but that didn’t stop Childe from keeping you by his side. Even in your sleep, your arm refused to let his waist go which did make him chuckle, maybe he could tease about this when you were feeling better.

Honestly, he expected the first time you held him like this to be in a more romantic setting but he was not going to complain about what he was getting. It was already a big step that you decided to come to his side for comfort. Your usual method of letting go of bad feelings was always sparing so it was a nice change of pace.

Maybe next time you do feel bad and need his comfort he will be able to get some words out of you. For now, he’s going to let you do whatever you want, even if it means catching him off guard with an arm around his waist.

Kaeya Alberich

“Cheers for a happy 6 months!” Kaeya chuckled. You both clinked your glasses, giggling tipsy from the alcohol. You both had been dating for half a year now, which was unbelievable in Kaeya’s mind. Kaeya always had a one-sided crush on you ever since you both had done academy training together. Who knew you felt the same? And now here you both were, celebrating together.

Kaeya could see Diluc roll his eyes yet he didn’t care. He knew it was considered cheesy to celebrate every month of a relationship, but you were the type to enjoy such things so he couldn’t say no. He began to love these silly celebrations with you, it felt special.

“You guys do know this isn’t the most romantic place to celebrate right?” Diluc piped up, as he organized the wine shelf behind him. Kaeya stuck out a playful tongue at him before taking a sip, which only made your tipsy self giggle some more.

“Yeah yeah, but it’s the place where we first confessed! It has special memories, you should be glad your tavern can create such happy moments.” You say, words a bit slurred but still understandable.

As you spoke you could hear the other tavern people cheer, which only made you cheer along. Kaeya could only stare at how stunning you looked at this moment. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact he was dating such a wonderful individual.

Diluc sighed, preparing you both another glass. He slid the glasses over. “Here then, for a successful 6 months.” He mumbled, rolling his eyes as you and Kaeya once again cheered.

Kaeya took the glass without hesitation, ready to down it in an instant, but he wasn’t prepared for what you had planned. An arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him and his chair closer to you. Kaeya had already begun to drink but the sudden action caused him to choke on it.

He coughed so much, that the drink spit out of his mouth. Diluc looked in disgust while you only could worry. “Are you alright?” You ask concerned, but Kaeya couldn’t hear anything. It was unbelievable, you had wrapped your arm around his waist! You both have never been this close before!

You tended to always stay in your own space and Kaeya wasn’t going to push it, especially since you guys were still freshly dating in his mind. He wasn’t going to risk ruining a relationship he dreamt of for years. Maybe it was the alcohol but it seemed that you had the confidence to pull such a sneaky trick.

“I’m fine i’m fine. It went down the wrong pipe for a second.” He tried to laugh it off, wheezing between sentences. He hoped you didn’t notice his panic, he didn’t want you taking your arms off him anytime soon. You smiled at himy placing your head on his shoulders which only made his head spin more.

Diluc looked at Kaeya in amusement. He got front-row seats to see his brother who was typically cocky completely speechless. Kaeya looked as a devilish smile crept up on Diluc’s face. “You know, it really is such a special day. Here, more drinks. On the house.” He slid you both more drinks. Kaeya could only stare in disbelief as you continued to chug them down like nothing.

“You’re being kind today Diluc! Thank you!” You gleefully exclaimed, setting the glass down and wrapping another arm around Kaeya. Your head that was on his neck pushed closer, and Kaeya could feel your hot breath on his neck, which only made him feel hotter.

The alcohol wasn’t helping, he could feel the dizziness get more intense as you pushed yourself closer to him. He was certain you were going to melt and mould him into slime with all the heat he was accumulating.

He could see Diluc prepare another drink, a sly smile still on his face. If this was how you acted tipsy he wasn’t ready to face you when you were a complete drunk. He stood up from the chair, pushing the glasses away from you which only rewarded him with a whine.

“we had enough for tonight. I’ll take you home.” You pouted but mumbled an OK, standing up yourself. However, you refused to let go of his waist, forcing him to stay close to you at all times. He tried to control his shyness but it was hard when you were so close.

“Hope you both enjoy the rest of your anniversary!” Diluc called out, a smile on his face as Kaeya glared, guiding you out of the tavern. He hoped the next time you decided to pull a stunt like this, you both weren’t as drunk anymore.

He also planned on never having anniversary celebrations at the Angel Share ever again. Or at least not on Diluc’s shift. He wasn’t ready for what other PDA you had in store, knowing Diluc would fan the flames to embarrass him. Maybe next time you guys can go drinking at each other’s houses instead. You’ll have to see on your seventh anniversary.

Wanderer

“What the fuck?” That was the first words that came out of his mouth when you decided to wrap an arm around his waist, placing your head on his shoulder.

“Shut up I’m trying to rest here.” You mumble, closing your eyes, enjoying the icy sensation from his porcelain-like skin. The Sumeru desert was hot, unbearably hot. You didn’t want to come here but when you’re working in the Akademiya you didn’t have a choice in what you had to do to progress your research.

Lucky for you, you were accompanied by a walking ice pack. It was a shame his attitude wasn’t as cool as he was.

“No, I won’t, get off me.” He hissed, trying to push you off himself. You just rolled your eyes, gripping him a bit tighter. You knew he could easily toss you aside if he wanted to get you off. He had a vision that allowed him to blow you away in an instant, so him being so meek was an act.

“Yeah yeah, good luck with getting me off, i’m quite persistent.” You continue to mumble, pushing your head into the crevice of his neck. Wanderer had a very peculiar scent. A mixture of grass and freshly picked kalpalata lotus. It was such an odd smell but you honestly have got a bit addicted to it. It also helped his frosty exterior enhance it. Either way, the smell felt clean and cool, a refreshing scent during such hot weather.

You could hear him scoff, the sound ringing in your ears a bit since you were so close. You were close enough if you just turned your head you could peck him on the lips, you would have done so if you weren’t so tuckered out.

“Whatever, I’ll let you off this time. I won’t let you pull this shit next time.” You could only chuckle. This wasn’t the first time he tried to threaten you. To be honest he seemed to dull down a lot more compared to everything that happened before. You both weren't usually touchy, actually, you were not touchy at all, so whenever when you do shit like this it always ticked him off. You were honestly surprised he hadn’t gone into a swearing fit like when you first held his hand. It was almost as if he was slowly getting used to your touch, which you didn’t mind.

However today you were just out of it, too tired to mess around with him or worry about touch. The shade of the cave you both sat under accompanied by his cool refreshing self attached to your side made you drowsy. You could feel your brain finally go into shut-down mode.

“Hey, don’t you dare go to sleep… ” You would think he was trying to stop you from falling asleep but his intentions were clear when you could hear how softly he whispered those words to you. You could feel his arm, which was nowhere to be seen until now, finally, wrap around you from the side.

“If you fall asleep I’m going to leave you here to fend for yourself…” He continued to whisper. It almost sounded like a lullaby but you knew the sun would be rising from the west if that was the case. “Yeah yeah, at least bury me in the sand before you do.” That was the final words you said before you finally got knocked out.

- - -

To no one’s surprise when you did wake up, he was still at your side. Both of you were unmoved from the original position from when you had fallen asleep. The only difference was that the sun had set and the stars littered the sky.

“Good morning to you.” He grumbled which you answered with a yawn. “ What happened to leaving me alone to fend for myself?” You asked, trying to let go but as he remained unmoved you could not.

You huffed, trying to push him off but he finally decided to use his given strength to make sure you couldn’t. He didn’t turn to look at you, instead focused on the sky. You sighed, giving up and following his gaze up to the sky. Was the sky always full of that many stars?

“I changed my mind.”

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415 notes · View notes

brayneworms · 11 months

Text

shoot it up (straight to the heart).

featuring. childe/reader

word count. 5.7k

content. merc!reader, drinking, kissing, masochist!childe because i am not immune to that agenda, sparring, gender neutral reader, childe is a little shit, blood, finger sucking, biting, handjobs, hair pulling, one instance of degradation (whore), light begging and light crying.

synopsis. childe has always found you fascinating; now that his stint in liyue is up and he's scheduled to return to snezhnaya, he takes the opportunity to get something from you he's wanted for months.

notes. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, i check the notes and you will be blocked.

"Ahh, the scourge of the complacent! Fancy seeing you here on a night like tonight."

You tip your eyes up to the ceiling of the inn; his voice rings out clear as bells over the chatter and rowdiness, and maybe it's a mark of your attunement to his specific brand of irksomeness that you hear the bounce of his footsteps approach over the general cacophony of laughter and drinks slamming.

There are four empty stools at the bar. He takes the one right next to you, sliding home with a boyish grin. You scratch at your forehead with all the fatigue of a working mother-of-five, catch the bartender's eye, and silently flag down another drink.

Tartaglia whistles as you raise the cup to your lips, making you pause; mead sops against your mouth, burning against raw picked skin. "I see even the alcohol of Liyue is no match for you, scourge."

"Don't call me that," you say flatly, and knock the cup back. There isn't enough booze in this whole tavern to make this a bearable conversation, but at least you could soften the edges. If you got drunk enough, you might be able to pretend he was nothing more than a lurid ginger mosquito buzzing around your head for attention.

Attention you always seemed to grant, no matter how much you swear you'll ignore him.

"Your lovely friend at the funeral parlour told me I might find you here," Tartaglia continues talking even though you're staring at the ceiling praying for patience. "She's pretty fond of you, huh? Can't imagine why, with your prickly attitude—oh, barkeep, I'll have what they're having, please." He flashes a pearly grin at the bartender, who pours him a cup of mead.

"Did you come here just to bother me?" you grit out, staring at the dregs in your cup; it sloshes darkly amongst the dull silver, and you can see a glimmer of a reflection, your eye staring back at you.

"What an ego you sport!" Tartaglia sounds righteously offended. "I came here to drink." And as if to prove his point, he raises his cup to his lips and takes a deep gulp. You can see his pale throat flex as he swallows, the bob of bones beneath papery skin.

He coughs a little as he sets the cup back down, empty. You try not to let your surprise show on your face.

"Liyue mead has quite the burn," Tartaglia comments. "You'd think I'd be used to it after being weaned on that Snezhnyan paint-thinner, but what can I say? This place has a kick."

He leans back on his barstool, a vaguely soft, wistful look passing over his features. Then he says, "I'll certainly miss it."

The cup slips from your fingers, and you curse yourself. "You're leaving?"

Tartaglia smiles, a little sadly. "The Tsaritsa summoned me back. I'll have to take off by the end of the week."

"No shit?" Tartaglia's been posted here and bothering you for way longer than you arrived to act as a temporary guard for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour. You weren't sure why such a place needed extra beef with security, but it paid well, and Hu Tao and Zhongli were well-meaning employers and good company, so you could hardly complain. That was the beauty of freelance, after all.

"Oh? You sound disappointed." Tartaglia leans forward, cupping his chin in his hand; his eyes find yours, gleaming in the low light. "What? Don't tell me you're going to miss me?"

You glare at him. "Do people miss the mosquitoes they swat when they're buzzing around their head?"

"You always act like I'm vermin," Tartaglia pouts. "Still, you're having a drink with me—I consider that a victory."

"One of your few," you toast, raising your cup, and Tartaglia's playful expression sullens a touch, like a cloud covering up the sun. "Oh, don't get all kicked-puppy on me. Thought you could take a little pain."

"Better than you know," Tartaglia says with a stunning return to form and a coy grin. You must be just tipsy enough to entertain him, because you don't seize a handful of his bright hair and ram his face into the bar like you briefly consider doing. There wouldn't be much in it for you beyond the satisfying crack of bone and yelp of pain. As for Tartaglia, he'd probably get off on it.

You both down another cup, and now the lines that make up the tavern are starting to blur pleasantly. There's a soft, fuzzy feeling filling you up, like you're made of cotton instead of flesh and blood and magic. A faint flush has made itself known on Tartaglia's cheekbones, lurid against his hair, illuminating the scatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He's surprisingly lightweight, for as hard as you known Snezhnayan liquor to be.

"Would you walk with me?" Tartaglia holds your eye like he's making a promise, though not to you. He says half the things he says like he's talking to someone else, someone you cannot see. He holds out a gloved hand, grinning. "C'mon. I want to show you something."

Your brows knit up, suspicious. "Why me?"

"I'm currently not speaking to any of my other friends," Tartaglia says haughtily. "Sneaks and liars, all of 'em. As, uh, disarming as you are, scourge, at least you're honest. So... c'mon. Humour a man's last wish."

"You're not dying," you say acidly, but you get up. Tartaglia grins, delighted, sweeping up his coat from the barstool and paying out. You follow him out of the tavern; Liyue comes alive at night, you think, the harbour glimmering with a thousand lights, the water lapping at the chalky walls. Tartaglia takes your hand as the tavern door swings shut behind you. He runs warm, and you can see freckles spiralling up his wrist, and before you can protest he's started a brisk pace away from the water.

"The hell?" you mutter, making a weak attempt at taking your arm back. "Hey. Tartaglia. Where are we going?"

"So formal," he calls over his shoulder. "You can call me Childe, you know."

"Like that's even your real name," you roll your eyes. "What difference does it make?"

"Hm. Tartaglia feels more like a title. It's the name I use when I want to intimidate, you know?" He looks over his shoulder at you, the dull blue of his eyes catching in the moonlight. "I'm not foolish enough to think I could ever intimidate you, of all people."

And when he says that, it feels like a compliment. You curse the hot prickling you can feel at the backs of your ears as he leads you through town, up near where the mountains crest. It's all rickety ladders and bridges for a while before you come to a plane nestled between two great rocks. Grass and gravel spill out beneath your feet; in the middle of the wobbly circle is a wooden training dummy with chunks carved out of it. Torches bracket the space, filling the night with shifting bronze light.

It occurs to you briefly that Childe could be luring you out here to kill you, but just as easily the notion flees. He might be Fatui, and he might be insufferable, but the two of you have no real grievances as far as you know.

Besides—you're stronger. And the both of you know it.

You sweep a flat look around the circle and raise a brow. “Homey.”

Childe giggles. “You’re always so sharp-tongued, scourge. I’ve been reflecting on my stint in Liyue in light of everything, you know? What with my leaving so soon. I remembered the first time I saw you fight.”

Your brows draw up, taken aback; this is not a sentiment he has shared with you before. He paces as he talks, starts gesticulating like he’s trying to stir up a wind, though the night is virtually breezeless. Warm and damp and encapsulating. A line of sweat encroaches under your collar.

“Some treasure-hoarders, they made a chokepoint out in the Guili Planes to intercept traders going down the road,” he tells you, as if this is news. “Zhongli asked me to deal with them myself, ‘cause they were stopping import to the city. But as soon as I got up there to scout it out, I saw you. What you’d left, anyway. This… trail. Like this—this big patch of carnage and you just in the middle of it, going blade-to-blade with this monster of a thief twice your size. Would you believe I was almost arrogant enough to think you needed my help?” His eyes shine feverishly, the moonlight catching off dead-fish-blue. “You brought him to heel like a misbehaving dog. He gave you a bloody nose and you just—just wiped at it like it was nothing. Didn’t it hurt? Always wanted to know if it hurt.”

“It hurt,” you manage, frozen with shock. He’s getting entirely too het-up too quickly, feverish in his excitement, pale cheeks flushed wine-red, and he moves closer as he waves his hands, eyes locked onto you like he’s a dog and you’re his master. It makes your blood feel too thick and too hot in your veins.

“Thought so,” he breathes. “Thought it must’ve. It kinda… it sings, though. Doesn’t it?”

Stuck, you nod, though you only half understand what he’s talking about.

Apparently satiated, Childe rubs the back of his neck bashfully. "Hah, sorry. You really get me talking, scourge."

"Don't give me the credit," you mumble. "It's one of your natural talents."

"Wanna see another one of my natural talents?" Childe grins; at your sharp look, he raises his hands placatingly, smile stretching ever wider. "I meant fighting, of course. C'mon. Truthfully, I've been thinking about it ever since that day. Fighting you."

He says that—fighting you—with the same sort of soft reverence one might reserve for making love or worshipping a deity. Like it's the centre of his world, the cell his heart was born from. You wonder how long it's been since Childe's days were anything but fighting, then reckon that that's probably a deliberate choice.

When he holds out a blunt wooden training staff out to you, his hands are perfectly steady. You heft it in your grip, getting used to the weight and balance. You're more accustomed to knives and swords, and small blades you can slip into your boot or belts, but you're not unfamiliar with polearms, exactly.

"Feel good?"

You jump; Childe's pressed closer to you in the time it took to examine your new weapon, and his words are accompanied with a brush of warm air across the back of your ear. "It's okay."

"Good! I want you at top form for this." He slopes off, twirling his own staff between gloved fingers obnoxiously. It makes a faint whistling sound against the warm night air. "Think you're ready?"

"Ready?" You can't help but sneer. "I don't need to be ready to fight a pest. I just do it."

Childe's grin is so wide that the flushed apples of his cheeks turn pointy. "Alright, killer. I've been looking forward to this for a while, and, y'know, I dunno when the next time is I'll meet someone as interesting as you... so don't disappoint me, yeah?"

The first crack of your staffs together sings.

It's an old melody, one you're attuned to, one you think you were born with. Impact shivers up your bones, disturbs the skin in a railroad of gooseflesh, sets your teeth on edge. There's the anticipation, the moment right before the new sensation turns uncomfortable or painful, like pressing down on a bruise, the moment before it starts hurting. The staffs gnash together like wooden teeth.

"You're quick," Childe says approvingly as you draw your arm back to your side, circling him in short steps. His eyes follow the lines of your body like he's trying to set you alight. You're not sure why you're doing this, actually—your relationship with Childe has been nothing but tepid the whole time he's been stinted in Liyue. From your end, anyways. He tends to sort of follow you around like a lost puppy when he has free time. No matter how many times you smack him and send him reeling, he always comes back with a bone clamped between his teeth, looking for fun.

A drink, a fuck. A fight. Maybe it's all sort of the same to him.

Your fight is a dance; Childe is undeniably skilled, and polearms aren't your first choice of weapon, so it's a fairly even fight despite your strength. Several times he moves far too quickly for you to comprehend—like you blink and he's shifted with the moonlight, gone from in front to behind you in a second. Laughing, poking, teasing until your blood is boiling despite the cold.

When you finally land a hit on him, it's sweet. Your staff cracks across his jaw with all the force of his annoyance to you over the last months, and Childe barely has time to widen his eyes before he crashes to the dirt. He lets out a pained grunt as he plants into the earth, and just as you're opening your mouth to gloat—

"Again."

It cracks into the night air like the crash of your staff against his jaw, pursed between wheezing breaths. His voice sings like cut piano strings, dissonant against what is happening. You stand over him, breathing hard, brow cinched as he sprawls in the dirt.

He's got chalky soil all over his pretty light uniform. He doesn't seem to care. Dull blue eyes blink up at you, round as pennies; you can see an angry welt raising on his jaw where your blow had made contact, flaring up scarlet against the pale skin. No doubt it will have flowered into a nasty bruise tomorrow, something the colour of overripe lavender melon.

But Childe grins.

You stumble back, frowning hard, and Childe makes a noise at the back of his throat as he sees you retreat. He scrambles messily to his feet, brushing dirt carelessly from his clothes.

"What?"

Childe cradles his jaw with a hiss. "You pack a punch. But I'm not done yet."

"You said again." You eye him warily, arms still not raised. "What did you..."

He huffs a laugh with a return of that boyish grin. "Ah, caught that, did you? I guess you could say I have a certain admiration for people who can land a hit on me. It's impressive. You're impressive."

Before you can decide whether he's swelteringly egotistical or just a pervert who gets off on pain, Childe lunges, swinging his sparring spear overhead; you shriek and parry it last-minute, your grip faltering enough that the wooden shafts collide with a harsh thwack; you don't fend the blow off completely thanks to your shoddy reaction time, but you manage to avoid getting struck in the head.

"Asshole," you grit out, stumbling left a few paces to get your bearings again; Childe circles you, twirling his spear between deft fingers with a sharp grin.

"I sensed your attention wandering," he shrugs. "You think you can hit me again?"

Your chin juts out, indignant. "Yeah. I'm stronger."

Beneath his lurid red hair, Childe's cheeks colour faintly. "Prove it, killer. Lemme feel it. Hit me—"

And he lunges, spear cracking through the air; this time, you're ready for it, seeing the telltale twitches of his body getting into formation before the pounce. You dodge his first hit, sending the tip of his spear sinking into the dirt, and whilst he's distracted with pulling it out you sweep the shaft of your own against the back of his knees. He buckles with a grunt, staggering, and you use his surprise to barrel your full body weight into his side.

He slips into the dirt, head thudding against the packed earth with a dull thud, and in your momentum you follow. By the time he's blinked the stars out of his eyes, your dagger is pressed up against his throat, nestled amongst the pale skin.

He breathes fast and sharp, a distinct contrast to his general collectedness. Your thighs cage his hips, and even from here you can feel his strength; his skin is shot through with sinew and iron. He could reach up, tussle, throw you off, put up a good fight. But he doesn't. He lays limp like a puppet with its strings cut, looking up at you with big, starry eyes—waiting for you to make the next move.

You come to a rather grim hypothesis.

The blunt tip of the dagger encroaches his skin, pushing in hard enough for blood to bead around it. Childe draws in a ragged gasp.

"Gonna kill me?" His tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip. He says that like it's an act of worship, like carving his throat out with a cinquedea is akin to leaving incense at a shrine for a far-flung god. Like his blood would be spattered amongst the stars if only you spilled it. Your breath catches; you hadn't been ready for the rush of power Childe's perversion would give you. You can feel it nestling under your skin like a heartbeat.

"I think you could, if you wanted," Childe whispers, and then he shudders at the thought, pretty eyes fluttering closed. He looks like he isn't sparing two thoughts to your hand holding a knife to his throat; skin breaks, and blood makes a thin rivulet down his pale skin. "Mm. Maybe I'd—I'd even let you. You could ask real nice."

"You're hardly in a position to be making demands," you murmur, feeling quite frozen. "Why don't you just be quiet for once?"

At once, Childe falls silent.

His bottom lip has split; probably why he was tonguing at it earlier. Now, with nothing to stop it, blood makes a languid trail down the slope of his chin. With your free hand, with the curiosity of a child petting a stray animal for the first time, you swipe at the trail with the pad of your thumb. You track it up to the seam, the cut, the split, press down hard until the surrounding skin of his lip turns white. You can feel the short, hot shocks of his quick breath against the skin of your nail.

The flash of his tongue surprises you, sliding over the bloody pad of your thumb, cleaning up his mess. A dog licking at its own wounds. Your breath catches, but you've never known when you're wading too deep. It's your one weakness as a fighter. You always think you can take more than you can.

So you press deeper. Your thumb sinks into his mouth up to the knuckle, and Childe lets out a faint groan. There's the ghostly scrape of teeth before his lips close over the skin, tongue swirling over the mess of blood and chalky dirt on the blunt tip of the digit.

Somewhere in the back of your head, you register faintly that this is not normal. Your interactions with Childe have been limited, so far, to snarky deadpans, irritable smacks, and the occasional drink. If you have occasionally caught his eyes lingering on the collar of your shirt, or following you when you enter a room soaked in hilichurl gore, you've made no comment. You'd assumed it would fizzle out, anyway. He's Fatui. They're hardly known for staying in one place a significant portion of time—they're dark-dressed ravens, flocking from place to place and bringing suspicion and misery for a while before taking to the sky again.

But Childe is not scoring the horizon. He's in the dirt with your finger in his mouth, and it looks like he's right at home there.

He releases you with a wet pop. Saliva and blood make a diluted trail down to his chin, and his eyes have peeled open again—heavy and half-lidded, blue slate stone, scoring deep into you. Your body feels hot and too full.

He cracks a lazy smile. "Never seen you speechless before, scourge. Does this mean I win?"

And something snaps.

In a fluid movement, you grab both of his wrists and pin them to the ground beside his head. Childe grunts a sound of surprise as your fingers tighten on his wrists, back instinctively arching from the sudden pressure; one of his legs slips in the earth and knocks against your ankle. He blinks up at you, eyes practically bioluminescent in the night.

"You don't look much like a winner," you snarl.

"Depends on your position."

"You're the Tsaritsa's bitch," you spit. "And if not hers, Zhongli's, or was it Signora who was the last one to get one up on you? Really, you've been failing upwards so much lately it's getting hard to keep count."

Childe's eyes narrow, the first glimmer of defiance sparking in the blue. For the first time you feel him throw his weight behind his halfhearted squirming—he raises his hips to try and buck you off, tugs at your grip on his wrists with renewed vigour. His fighting back shouldn't spark something in you—it shouldn't—but you can feel yourself growing excited.

The thing is, you sort of like killing. People don't get into your line of work if they don't. There's something about holding something down and winning through nothing but sheer strength that makes you feel strong, like you've earned a place on this earth. Watching Childe's jaw tick in frustration the longer he goes without unseating you is making all sorts of dangerous ideas brew in your head.

It's just—maybe it's the drink, or the fight, but the world is still pleasantly pretty and still. And Childe looks sort of gorgeous with his brow all scrunched up like that, the hint of icy anger in his eyes, the gritted teeth. His neck is strained in such a way that bares every jut and bone to you, and you can see his pulse fluttering away under the taut skin, the bob of his adam's apple.

You want to bite it.

Some sort of magnetism pulls you down, nosing at the skin of his neck. Childe grunts, half-frustrated and half-confused when he feels your lips brush over his throat. He smells like salt and mead and copper, labour smells, but his skin here is smooth like it's never seen a day of wear.

"What're you—" Childe huffs out, but his mouth drops open with a choked noise when you seal your teeth in a ring over his neck and bite down. Not quite enough to hurt, you don't think, just enough to satisfy the weird part of you that's sparking for the urge to maim. "Archons, scourge."

Oh dear. His voice has gone all strangled and weak. You dare to release one of his wrists to cup the back of his neck, holding him still, brushing the feathery down of hair on his nape. Automatically, his free hand flies for you, but it stops short, hovering as if unsure.

You can almost feel him weighing his choices in his mind. He has a hand free, and you're not even looking at him. Even if he can't beat you outright, he'd do alright with the element of surprise. He could definitely knock you spinning and flee before you get your bearings.

You wait. Count the fast thuds of Childe's pulse against his neck. The muscles in his free arm go limp, and he wraps it around your waist to pull you closer.

Figuring you're done pretending, you skim your lips up his neck and jaw before catching his mouth in a hard, bruising kiss. Childe moans, softly, into your mouth, hand clenching hard over the fabric of your waist before sliding under. His fingers span out over the small of your back, worn leather and warm flesh, and you shudder despite yourself.

His lips are chapped, and you can taste blood still oozing from the split in the plush lower one. "Someone's sensitive," you gloat, and he huffs. "Not had time to get laid here?"

"What can I say?" Childe's breezy tone would be more believable it it wasn't coming out so strangled. "Been a busy guy. Don't seem to have time for m-many... simple pleasures."

"You always seemed to find time to annoy me, though," you say darkly.

"Less of a luxury, more of a need," Childe breathes. "You make just the most interesting faces when you're irritated."

"Yeah? That get you all wet?"

Childe laughs weakly. "Scourge, please. I'm but a blushing virgin. You'll burn my poor ears off."

You shoot an obvious glance down to the tent straining against Childe's slacks. "I can well believe that."

He squirms in embarrassment, the tips of his ears lighting up scarlet. His eyes blink up at you, the usual lusterless blue fleeing in wake of reflecting the thousands of stars above you, and he seems to glow from the inside out, for a moment. The coppery blood on his face catches the moonlight.

A tongue flicks out to wet his lips, a dog wetting its snout. "Won't you take pity, scourge?" he pleads. "You got me well and truly at your mercy. You win. So..."

Before you can stop to consider the ramifications of your actions, your free hand has already scrambled to his belt buckle. Childe's breath catches, eyes widening as he registers your movements as the brass clinks in the silence. For a moment there's nothing but the hasty shuffling of clothing as you shuck Childe's dirt-streaked trousers down his thighs, his hips lifting to assist. There's a small furrow between his brows, his cheeks alight with a blush that makes his freckles sing against his skin.

The skin of his thighs catches, milk-white in the moonlight. Even here, scars have made their home, pink or bruise-dark, crisscrossing over the flesh in railroads. You get his trousers down past his knees before you stop bothering; he's left in dark underclothes, erection so stiff it's pulling the thin fabric taut, and the slit in his shirt that you've always found obscene betrays the quick, shallow bursts of his breath.

His throat flexes when he swallows. "Are you really going to—mmmgh!"

Childe sputters to a halt with a rather embarrassing high-pitched noise as you cup him through his boxers. You roll your palm experimentally over the tip of the tent, and his eyes flutter shut, rolling back against his skull with a pretty, desperate noise. This side of him is so foreign, but so familiar, so obvious, you wonder why you didn't think of it before.

"Ah, fuck," Childe swears, already sounding breathless. With how obvious he's always been, the lazy slide of his eyes, you'd assumed he had at least some experience—but maybe your teasing just a moment ago was a little more on the nose than you'd anticipated. He's unusually sensitive. "Scourge, I don't—"

"Stop calling me that," you mutter, pulling the fabric of his underwear till it strains against his cock, and he swallows back a gasp, spine arching against the dirt. "Did you want something?"

"You're so cruel," he whines. "Y/n, Archons, please—"

"Alright, alright, you big baby," you sigh, shedding his soaked underwear. Childe shudders, thighs tightening under you as he hits the cold air. The strain of his arousal and the chafing fabric is obvious; pre drips eagerly from the reddish tip, and he fits neatly into your palm when you swipe over the leaking hands before wrapping your fingers around him. Childe jolts into the touch, cursing under his breath, and as you start to jerk him off his lashes flutter. His blue eyes roll to the heavens and his head thumps against the earth with a long, shaky moan.

The night fills with noise, somewhere between what you find obscene and what sends heat rushing between your own legs as your fist pumps lazily up his length. Childe is more receptive than you would've put money on, gasping and swearing, hiccuping small, wounded noises in the back of his throat. His brow is scrunched, lips slack and wet with saliva, eyes screwed shut. His hips jump like they have a brain of their own.

You squeeze, prompting a panicked noise; Childe's eyes fly open and find your sly smile. "You look pretty," you tell him. Childe goes scarlet.

"W-wha?" he dredges up intelligently, frowning. "Why'd you—what?"

You find it funny that you've literally got your hand around his cock, but calling him pretty is apparently what crosses the line in flustering him. You cock your head, grinning.

"You don't think?" you coo. "I think you're lovely like this. I never realised how attractive you'd be once you shut your mouth. Maybe I should beat you in a fight more often."

"W-wouldn't complain," Childe pants, still alight with a feverish blush.

"I'm sure," you say noncommitally. "You fucking whore."

Childe moans, loud and shameless, and his free hand flails to scratch his nails down his own skin. "D-don't stop, fuck, don't stop—"

You stare at the scarlet railroads left on the pale skin of his stomach, and with your free hand yank up his shirt to his chest. Childe lets out a startled sound, looking at you with round, surprised eyes. His torso is littered with scars, raised and pale and dark against freckled skin. He is pretty. You love the marks of his exertions and pains, a history of his losses mapped out over his body. One of his nipple has a healed slash running right through it; when you reach up and tweak it, Childe shudders.

"Anyone would think you like losing," you murmur.

Childe looks at you weakly, crying out when your hand resumes at a faster pace. "Like it when—hnn—when it's real. I like it when they don't hold back. 'S why I'm just—hah!—e-enamoured with you, I guess."

"'Cause I'm ruthless?" you quip.

Childe flutters his lashes. "Nice enough to let me come, I hope," he says sweetly, and it makes your cheeks burn momentarily with embarrassment, the brazenness of his statement. "I'm not above begging."

"I liked you better when you were quiet," you mutter, and swipe your thumb hard over the slit. Childe yelps, muscles melting like butter, and when you start rubbing cruelly like you've found some sort of button his face flames, his mouth drops open, and he lets out a wailing noise, legs thrashing.

"Archons," he keens, but with your free hand you seize and handful of his hair and pull, hard.

"No Archons," you snarl. "Just me."

Tears prick at the corners of Childe's eyes as he rolls his hips to meet your unrelenting strokes, whimpering. "Y-yes, yeah, just you, just you, do that again."

You oblige, dig your fingers into the red hair so deep your nails scrape his scalp, and tug. The tears spill over Childe's lashline as he chokes on the moan that bursts from him at the movement.

"Keep it there," he begs, thighs shaking. "Pleasepleaseplease—"

"You close?" you ask innocently. "Already?"

There's no more pretence; the fine line of pleasure and pain seems to have wrought Childe down to only basic instincts, as his hips roll against your hand as you fist his length rough and quick, head tipped right back against the ground, exposing the heaving column of his throat. The toned concave of his stomach flexes with each punched-out breath, the scars coiling and elongating respectively.

"Please," Childe sobs in answer. "I'll be good, be real good, I'm close..."

You surge forward, digging your face into Childe's neck as you speed up your pace, and sink your teeth into the soft skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Hard enough for blood to bubble under your lips, hard enough for Childe to let out a strangled scream as he comes all over your hand, spilling over your fingers and his stomach in pearly arcs.

He's panting when you pull back, winces as you dislodge your teeth and unwind your fingers from his hair. He touches the bite mark with a wince and hiss, examining the blood on his fingers with light interest. It really shouldn't surprise or arouse you nearly as much when he dips them into his mouth and licks them clean.

"Degenerate," you tell him. Childe smiles crookedly, the flush on his face still stark red.

"There's this old saying about a pot and a kettle," he says, voice still weak and shaky.

The bite mark is leaking. As he reaches for you, you get the fleeting thought that it will leave another scar to add to his masses, another permanent trophy of another loss.

A loss to you.

And you smile.

#🫀.scribes #genshin x reader #childe x reader #childe smut #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #tartaglia smut #ajax x reader #ajax smut #childe oneshot #sub!childe #sub!genshin #dom!reader #genshin x dom!reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x gn reader

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angelsrcute · 13 days

Note

being sneaky w childe when the three of you (with traveler) are like adventuring or something

also good luck for your examss! 🍀

Crazy, Crazy in love with you. ౨ৎ

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Chile + Sub!gn!Reader ➜ cws: blowjob, praising, aphrodisiac ᡴꪫ‎

Nothing much really happened, You, Traveller and Childe were out fighting some hilichurl because apparently a certain ginger was bored n wanted to fight! (deffo not Childe)

You and Childe had got lost afterwards and got hit by an aphrodisiac flower, Childe wanted to give you some flowers while throwing in cheesy pick-up lines.

You had been pushed to your knees, his cock throbbing with need in front of you and now, his hands gripping your hair, sweet praises leaving his lips as you try your best to suck him off, gosh, it's big. “Baby, your mouth feels so good, good girl, hah…so good f'me”

Where did the traveller go, you wonder, it'd be so embarrassing if you two got caught by the traveller.

A sudden thrust brought you back to reality, “Baby, keep your eyes on me, don't think of anything else..” Childe says with a pout, eyes dazed. With one final thrust he shoots thick ropes of cum in your mouth.

“Swallow,” he says. His hands pushing a finger between your lips, your tongue out, satisfied that you swallowed it.

“Hey, I think we have some time before traveller finds us, how bout’ having a quick fuck, please?” Childe says with a puppy look in his eyes, ah, shit, is that blond hair you see?? This guy isn't even paying attention to anything else but you as he undresses you.

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dom character #sub reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #childe smut #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia smut #ajax x reader #ajax smut #𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐄'𝐒 :: 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 (ᵔ◡ᵔ)

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yuellii · 8 months

Text

summer's in the air, heaven's in your eyes

𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐀 memory from innocent times; or, in which they fell in love with you prior to becoming a fatuus

feat. childe, la signora, scaramouche, dottore

note. reader’s gender unspecified, ajax & reader are kids in his part only ( he was 14 when he fell into the abyss )

CHILDE. ajax

Whether it was summer or winter, spring or fall, you could never tell from your surroundings alone.

Hailing from Natlan meant you were so used to the heat all the time, and your classmate Ajax always called you “the sun” for standing out so much in the snow. You were the only one who shivered, the only one who wore such thick coats; and yet, he’d still argue that you were warm like the sun itself.

On your twelfth birthday, he gave you a scarf. “It’s red and warm, just like the sun, just like you!”—that was what he said with the toothiest of grins, and perhaps you teased him about the color of his hair in return.

But he was right; it certainly was warm, and now the red tint on his face made him feel like he would always match you. He, with his bright orange hair; and you, with your bright red scarf. Maybe it was the preteen years that still have him a childlike joy, but if the sight of you wearing the scarf kept giving him this fluttering feeling, then he’ll take it.

Although , for some reason, the days seemed a little brighter now whenever your face was buried in your scarf during school days. Mornings seemed a little warmer when you offered to share your scarf with him. Afternoons seemed a little sunnier when you walked with him home from school.

Maybe, this was what your hometown in Natlan felt like. Or, maybe, everything was so cold without his sun to melt his young heart into a puddle by your shoes.

And now, looking back, with the ends of this red fabric all worn and stretched around his neck—he still thinks it looks just like you.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

LA SIGNORA. rosalyne

Perhaps it was an over-speculation on her part.

Perhaps, you weren’t as bad as she initially thought under this lovely morning light, or with your sweet perfume clashing well with the withering books of the akademiya library. And perhaps, maybe you weren’t a rival in her thesis if your hand felt so nice atop her own ( even though you were reaching for the same exact book ).

“You’re also researching liquid flame?” you perked up, sending her the most nonchalant of glances that made her flustered you even remembered her. The question implied you had no idea she was writing the same topic as you were for her thesis—it implied that you really had no malicious attempt against her at all. Suddenly, she thinks she doesn’t hate you at all, with your hand still over hers on the book, even after the nights she spent obsessively studying to finish her paper before you do.

“Yes,” she says, and there’s quite the chance she forgets how to speak properly. But her senses spike the moment you smile in such a supportive way, completely void of any rivalry to writing the same paper.

Then out of nowhere, she finds herself at a table with you, hunched over this singular book—and perhaps this is the first time she struggles to focus on the words on the page. Because you’re so smart, and somehow even more attractive than she formerly realized, she may think she’s diseased with an admiration she had not even researched before.

The feeling is akin to what she’s read in romance books, but she never had time for it back in Mondstadt or even here in the akademiya. It’s a bit sickening, but it makes her feel so light in the head in this lovey-dovey way she wishes would stay forever. Being so close to her, hunched over a book like this—she can’t wait to see you at your next class together.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

SCARAMOUCHE. kunikuzushi

“So many lavender melons!” he laughed wholeheartedly once he saw the pile of the purple fruit on the floor.

And he laughed with his whole chest, smiling with his whole face—so full of joy that he could trick anyone into thinking he was born with a heart. When he knelt down in front of you, too, the human excitement on his face was ever-so present and clear as day, even as the fabric of his hood fell over his eyes.

“You know, my hair was made from lavender melons,” he eagerly shared, nothing but everlasting enthusiasm in his gaze when he tilted his head back up to look at you.

Show him even the slightest bit of interest, and he’ll ramble on for days. So you simply asked, “Your hair?”

“Not my hair specifically,” he began to explain, “but the color—the dye!” And when he pulled his hood back, you couldn’t help but stare. He looked just like your archon, even the same length of her hair. How could a doll so perfectly made still act so human? “At Konda village, there’s a traditional art to turn the fruit skin into dye. My mother used it for my head,” he almost smiled to himself.

It’s pretty, you could always tell him that again. But of course a man-made set of hair was pretty, for he was more perfect than human. So you bit your tongue, instead moving across the lavender melon pile to sit next to him and grab a few strands of his hair. It was so long, so smooth… “Have you ever thought of cutting it?”

“Huh?” he perked up. A sudden look fear stuck onto his face for just a moment, and you worried you might’ve said something wrong. “Cutting it…? Like, short?”

You only hummed in affirmation.

He stayed silent for a moment, but you didn’t know if he was pondering or close to crying. “Will it… make me look less like a girl?” You were quick to understand the true meaning of this.

‘Will it make me look less like my mom?’

“Yes,” you smiled. He practically threw himself into your arms in excitement.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

DOTTORE. zandik

Intelligence was so attractive.

And intelligence in mechanics was even more attractive.

That was his standard, at least. The name Zandik was already widespread and known throughout the akademiya as the one to avoid, as he is on the brink of suspension. It was kind of annoying, being well into his studies here but still being threatened with getting expelled before he could even achieve his massive breakthrough.

And you were there, too. You, who he somehow secured a date with tonight. It was odd, really, how you accepted his proposal so easily. Well, to him it wasn’t odd—but to the rest of the student community it surely was, simply because he’s the weird kid.

But regardless, he took pride in this. And he was going to take you to his most favorite place in all of his home nation: The gigantic ruin guard robot sitting at the mountains south of Sumeru.

He was a type of person that didn’t realize he rambled on too much, but he was also someone that didn’t like being shut up, either. It took a certain type of patience just to not throw him off—and unbeknownst, you either had that patience, or maybe he just liked you enough to look past it.

But it was odd, it really was. How he caught himself staring at you as you were so deeply etched into your work at the akademiya’s mechanical lab. He swears he’s never seen you before, and that’s how his obsessive, hyperfixated researching leads him to find that you’re a new student who doesn’t even know of his name or his deeds at this school.

And though he’s never cared for reputation, it somehow feels so relieving, like for once in his life he cared about someone else’s thoughts on him. And, ah, it was almost time to pick you up. He hoped you liked robot gears in the shape of flowers.

pre-fatui harbingers will always have my heart 💓

#childe x reader #scaramouche x reader #la signora x reader #dottore x reader #wanderer x reader #tartaglia x reader #signora x reader #ajax x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x gender neutral reader

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prttykittes · 3 months

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TWO FOR THE PRICE OF ONE!

cw. Threesome, Scara x Childe, GN!reader, double penetration, blowjob, Dom!characters x Sub!reader, spit roasting, spit exchanging, spanking, reader has hair , praise kink, degradation kink . notes: they both so pretty, I sure made fem versions of them/hj

How did you end up like this? Your palms flat against the ground, your knees on a futon. Your mouth full of cock and drooling, your lower half being held and poked. "Mmh!" "What are you saying? Speak more clearly, slut." the purple-haired male says, his eyes glaring at yours, you can hear a chuckle from an ginger male behind you. The ginger male, Childe. He grabs a fist of your hair, yanking you back and making you go forward, he forces your head to move on Scara's dick. You let out a gag when your nose touches his abdomen, you let out a moan at the taste of his pre-cum and Childe's harsh guidance. "There we go~ Just focus on his dick, good job~" he whispers into your ear and takes a lick, you let out a small gasp which sends vibrations to Scara, making his dick twitch. "Fuck—" He grips the table edge, throwing his head back as Childe moves you faster. Tears of pleasure swollen up, you grip at the futon as your sex trembles, leaking tasty goodness. Childe tanks you back and shoves you hard, your eyes widen as Scara's white sticky goo fills your mouth. Childe coos at you, gently holding up your head as Scara gets out of the way, Scara is behind you with Childe. You don't pay attention to it, your mind wonders as you begin to only think about his dick and more cum. You were addicted to the taste of it, you craved more of it and they were going to give you more. "Are you ready, baby?" Childe says, he smiles as you weakly nod. Childe pushes in first, he groans at your tightness, biting his lower lip softly. Scara goes in next, holding your hole more open as his dick enters you, you let out a loud moan. You feel full and it slightly hurts, you can feel yourself about to climax already but you hold it in. Childe and Scara move in and out of you in sync, feeling the tightness of your walls and each other's dicks, Scara lifts up his hand, his hand lands on your ass. You gasp and tremble, Childe lets out a giggle as he does so as well, Scara gives your ass one last slap before he rolls his hips. They both grip at your hips, going faster, your mind goes hazy as your vision begins to go black. Your mouth wide open as you let out continuous moans, after moments that felt like hours~! They finally came, Childe first as he filled you up. Pulling out as Scara fills you up, you feel so full, you let out a loud moan as you climax, your body trembles. Childe kisses your back as Scara kisses your face. They tell you how good you did, you kinda want to do it again but you feel too full!

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fairykazu · 1 month

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washing rice with childe

note: gendered terms are used once (sir and girl) mlist ++ tglist @aethion @jllyfsh-lvr

when you walked into the kitchen, you didn't expect a horror that's beyond your eyes to even see. honestly, censoring in real life should be exist because you can't believe what childe's doing right now. he can't see you because you're in his blind spot, the corner of the entrance to the kitchen. but man, whatever the hell he's doing, you need to correct it right now or else, the whole world's going to fall apart and it's all your dumb boyfriend's fault.

you stepped into the kitchen, the floor had some suds on the tiles, "ajax."

he dropped the pot on the table, it tipped around its sides before settling down on the table. thankfully, it didn't spill all its contents out. you used his name-name. his government name. this isn't good...

"why the hell are you washing rice with soap?" you said, burying your head on your hands. seeing the beautiful jasmine rice soaked in soapy water made your head turn. why did he even? what???

childe washed the suds off his hands and shrugged, "you told me to wash it like two weeks ago so i am."

you furrowed your brow, "did i say wash it with soap?"

"not exactly but you did say 'babe, please, wash your damn rice. it's killing me!'" that's true, you did say that. but only because he didn't even wash it to begin with.

you took the pot and saw the soap and the rice hanging out. you tilted it to the side, draining the soapy water to throw away the rice. "this is crazy, babe, i meant, just wash it with water and rinse the water out."

"but you said wash it, not rinse it." childe replied, taking the pot from you just before you threw away his nasty rice. he filled with water again to repeat the process.

you rolled your eyes, “no, i said to wash it with water, not soap.” you drained the pot and quickly tossed all the soapy, raw rice into the trash before childe could protest.

childe looked confused. its hard to get mad at him when he looks so cute but you should muster your strength because he committed an horrific crime and he has to face justice (learn how to cook rice correctly). “i mean, that does sound better. ive been washing the rice like this, at least a week later you told me to.”

you were in disbelief, “what…?”

“yeah! it was so bad. i was like ‘wow my girl is crazy for this’ but i did it because i love you.” he formed a heart with his hands and winked.

“babe…”

“yeah?”

your stupid, loving boyfriend mistaken how ti wash rice just because he misunderstood what you said. and he never clarified. god, help us all. “i love you but you shouldve asked me to clarify.”

“…i thought youd get mad at me because ‘youre always right’ blarrrgh!”

shoot, hes right. you would! “thats fair but you really think id wash my rice with soap.”

“i mean,”

you shoot him a look as he glanced to the side. “i mean, of course not!! lets wash it right.”

“before you do, repent !!!”

“really?”

“no, not really. cmon fill this thing with rice for me so we wont have soapy dinner tonight.”

“yes, sir!”

#genshin impact x you #astronetwrk #childe fanfic #childe x you #childe fluff #childe x reader #childe x gender neutral reader #childe x y/n #gi childe #ajax x y/n #ajax x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #tartagalia x you

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saeyoungchoismaid · 9 months

Text

{9:30 am}

Finding Childe shirtless, clad in nothing but tight, black boxers and a purple apron, was the last thing you thought you’d find in your kitchen.

“Ajax?” you mumble, wiping the crusties from your eyes as you stare at him in confusion and disbelief.

He turns at the sound of your voice and immediately smiles over at you, his hands still placed behind him as he adjusts the tightness of his apron.

“Good mornin’, sleepin beauty! Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna put that cute ass of yours to work?” he greets with his usual smirk. Heat floods your cheeks as you tug your nightshirt down, the kitchen air suddenly feeling cold on your bare lower half.

“What are you doing here?” you mumble instead of answering him, watching him flit around the kitchen as he grabs things in preparation of breakfast.

Your question makes him pause though. He turns to half face you, his feet still planted to the ground. He tilts his head to the side like a dog who just heard a sound it’s human cannot hear. “Do you…not remember last night?” he asks hesitantly.

“Uh…no? Should I…?” you mumble, rubbing at your forehead before scratching at your scalp. Now that he mentions it, you got a bit of a headache going on. Your answer makes a cute pout come to his face before it’s instantly flickering to that smirk that you’ve come to love.

He struts over to you and you suddenly feel like prey underneath the eyes of a predator. He backs you right up into your counter and you jump a bit upon feeling it. Your teeth grab ahold of your bottom lip as he places his hands on the counter that’s on both sides of your hips. He puts his weight into his grip, his scarred arms flexing because of it. His face is so close to yours that you can smell the berries he was snagging for the pancakes he was planning on making. You gulp. He’s too close—way too close. You might short circuit at this point.

“Need a reminder?” he breathes, his warm breath hitting your cheek from how he’s tilted his head closer to yours. He brings his lips to your ear, gently brushing them there, before whispering, “Can you cuddle me?”

You wriggle around in someone’s hold, trying to break free. “Let go of me! I have to wait for Ajax!” you shout. The arms around you tighten to prevent you from falling from the princess hold they’ve got you captured in, but they stop moving forward at least.

“How come?” they ask, shifting your weight in their arms. Whoever this person is, they must be super strong. Then again, everyone kinda has to be in Teyvat.

“Cause I love him and he’s perfect and-“ you start to whine, ready to go on a whole tangent about this man. The person against you tenses and tightens their grip even further. This is what cuts you off as you whine in pain now. “Hey! That hurts! You better put me down or he’ll beat your ass!” you start to shout confidently.

Your eyes widen as you’re finally set down. You’re met with a heavy, blue gaze, hands clamped down onto your shoulders to keep you steady. “Oh yeah?” they taunt, stepping closer to you and completely disregarding the first part of your words, it seems. The way they said that…so sure and cocky and confident…it almost sounded like-

You gasp as you suddenly throw your arms around the person who is indeed no stranger at all. “Ajax! When did you get here? I missed you!” you scream, holding the last vowel for much longer than necessary.

You feel laughter rumble through his chest and into yours as he wraps his own arms back around you. “Around the time you were asking for your sixth set of shots,” he teases. You giggle like a schoolgirl as you now hang off of him to keep yourself upright.

“Why didn’t you say so?” you tease right back, putting your arms around his neck and starting to pull like you’re going to be able to lift yourself up into his arms. He lets out an amused snort as he just stands there watching you struggle for a moment. When you start pouting with your face just mere inches from his though, he feels something stirring in his chest and has to stamp it out fast.

He swiftly picks you up once more and you rest your heavy head onto his shoulder. The entire walk back to your place, you ramble and tell him about everything he’s missed out on since he’s been gone on whatever adventure was demanded of him.

“And then I went to the hilichurl camp and beat some serious ass and—oh! We’re here!” Your ranting finally comes to a close upon spotting your house. You don’t see it, due to you staring at your own house like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen it, but Childe smiles to himself. You’re just so cute.

He unlocks the door, carries you inside, helps you brush your teeth, once again carries you to your bed, and turns away once he’s picked out some jammies for you. After several minutes, you manage to get out of your clothes and into the shirt he picked out without toppling over. However, you didn’t have such luck with your pants.

You flop down face first into the bed, letting out a tired groan. Childe turns around and opens his mouth to ask if you want water when he sees your bare legs (and a hint of your underwear). He blushes nine different shades of red as he quickly looks away. Normally it’s not so easy to fluster him (you’ve tried), but to have developed feelings for such a cute person…he can’t help it sometimes.

He huffs a breath with a dumb smile on his face, shaking his head and ruffling his hair. You’re going to be the death of him. “C’mon. Lay in bed properly or you’ll get cold,” he chastises, fixing your form to put you under the warm covers.

Upon putting you vertical on the bed, you throw your limbs around him to trap him. “Can you cuddle me?” you mumble sleepily, your eyes barely open. He bites his lip, his inner demons fighting in a full on war.

“I dunno if that’s-“ he starts to deny.

“Please!” you beg, tightening your grip on him. This only causes him to turn a tenth shade of red now.

“Okay, alright. Ease up on the killer grip. Just…let me get ready for bed…” he responds, giving into his desires. It was all worth it though because you now smile and cheer, messily clapping your hands while you giggle.

He removes his jacket and pants, undoing a few of his buttons. He then thinks it over and removes it completely. After getting down to just his black boxers, he turns to face the bed now. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears as he watches you. You're singing a song he’s unfamiliar with while playing with your fingers. He’s honestly surprised you’re not passed out yet.

He gulps. He’s gone to war and fought monsters beyond your imagination and risked his life and almost died several times and yet…he’s more scared in this moment than he had ever been in any of those instances. He’s loved you for so long and to hear that you might return those feelings has him…mortified. Love wasn’t ever part of the plan. He can’t afford to love and be loved. He can’t-

“Ajax,” you whine, elongating his name. You pout up at him and make grabby hands, signaling for him to get in and to come here.

He takes a deep breath and slowly crawls under the covers, letting the blankets settle on top of him as he rests his head on the other pillow. He doesn’t touch you though. God, you’re already so close. He might actually lose his mind.

“C’mere…” you mumble, grabbing ahold of him and wriggling yourself towards him despite the command for him to move. Once you’re satisfied with the distance (which is basically nose to nose), you toss a leg over his hip. His whole body is tense and is it hot in here? He feels like he’s on fire. His hands shake as he wraps an arm around your waist, laying his palm flat on your back.

You happily hum and return the favor, pressing your face into his bare chest. “I love you…” you whisper after getting comfortable. If he couldn’t hear his heartbeat before, it’s practically deafening now. He closes his eyes and squeezes them shut tight, trying to wake himself up from this dream he’s clearly having.

After several seconds of his body still being pressed against yours, feeling your heat, smelling your scent, he feel like he can’t breathe. This is real.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know…” he whispers before kissing the top of your head.

It took him several hours to fall asleep, but he somehow managed to calm down enough to fall asleep in the place he’s only ever dreamed of being.

You stare agape at him, trying to process all of this. He can tell you’re flustered by the time it fully registers since you now won’t make eye contact with him and you’re getting fidgety.

“That’s not—I didn’t—I’m not—“ you try to find the right words, to explain, but your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. What do you say to that?

He chuckles as he brings one of his hands up, his knuckles gently brushing against your cheek. “Hey,” he calls, grabbing your attention and making you focus on him again. “It’s alright,” he reassures, giving you a genuine smile. "It's okay if you didn't mean it...that being said..."

He trails off, leaning his head forward and bumping his forehead against yours. “I love you…” he whispers, confessing it into the light of day with you 100% sober this time. You choke on air, suddenly unable to breathe. So it wasn’t a dream. You thought your bed smelled like him, because he slept in it. You thought you saw clothes that weren’t yours, because they are his.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to wake yourself from this dream. You even go as far as to pinch yourself. After several moments of still feeling his heat, smelling the berries on his breath, and his hair tickling your skin, you know this is real.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know,” you whisper back, remembering what he said last night in response to your confession.

The words barely leave your mouth before he’s surging forward and connecting your lips in a kiss. You can taste the berries on his tongue now, the pink muscle sliding across practically every inch of your mouth.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as his hands that were previously cupping your jaw and gripping the counter move to your hips. From there, they travel down to your legs, feeling your thighs under his fingers. After this, he slips his hands under your shirt and places his hands back onto your hips. His thumbs brush back and forth across your hips, causing a shiver to go down your spine.

It didn’t take him long to place you onto the countertop. It also didn’t take him long to start a full on make out session with you.

Let’s just say you two didn’t remember about the pancakes until much later.

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imisscherryboy-blog · 7 months

Text

running back 2 u

enemies to lovers — football player! ajax x sports med! gn reader

part 2 part 3

spotify playlist ★

story: you and ajax have known each other since elementary school. those years haven’t been always the best, as you both parted ways due to your differences in personality. that is, until one hot august night, where the stadium lights illuminate the turf, you find yourself running back to him again.

notes: enemies to lovers, modern au, gender neutral reader, childe is referred to as ajax, last name tartaglia, american football, all characters are 18+ as seniors, highschool setting, use of american education system, reader is in a sports medicine class (if you don’t know what that is it’s basically students that help out at school games, usually water girls/boys/people, assist with injuries) i wrote this with the pov of the reader being a POC but if you’re not just disregard when i say white and stuff lmao + part 1/?, title is an nct reference, debating eventual smut, kaveh and alhaitham are gay

side characters featured: kaveh, alhaitham (alhaitham x kaveh)

warnings: swearing, vivid depiction/description of injury

★ part 1 of an ongoing series ★

you hated ajax and ajax hated you. that much was safe to say. ever since that incident in 9th grade, you never talked to him, let alone acknowledged him. before that, you both had known each other since elementary school. everybody loved ajax, his teachers, his peers, and even you. he just had that personality that made everyone love him; but you knew him underneath that persona. you knew his flaws and he knew yours. he’d tell you things he’d never tell anyone, he trusted you. but, all good things come to an end. in the summer going into your first year at highschool, you found yourself never wanting to speak to him again. he ultimately became the person you two would make fun of together in prior years. a typical, white, football player. but damn was he a good running back. he used to be so charming, but now he was just a playboy that had a new girl in his bed every week. you hated him for it, you hated the person he became, but you mostly hated how he’d plague your mind like a disease.

the day of the game finally came. you and kaveh both wore your school’s varsity jackets and jeans. you guys trudged the god foresaken orange gatorade cooler out to the field for the junior varsity and freshman team. the jv game had just finished, and you began setting up for the varsity game.

“y/n, i can tell you’re scared about ajax.”

“wow kaveh, you’re sooo observant.” you said sarcastically as you both were now in the utility room, filling the water bottles for the players.

“listen, you probably won’t even have to talk to him. as much as he likes to talk behind your back, he’s scared of you. you literally know EVERYTHING about him, you could ruin his reputation in milliseconds.” kaveh had a point. you knew his deepest and darkest secrets, but he unfortunately knew yours as well. you screwed the last lid of the water bottle on tighter than usual as you responded.

“thanks kaveh, but promise me you’ll be the one giving him his water, not me.” kaveh laughed as you said this.

“i’d actually be more than happy too! he’s pretty fine anyways…”

“kaveh— please.” you sighed as kaveh only laughed louder. you walked out to the field, the sky a pretty hue of pink as the jv players left and students filed in the bleachers for the real game. you made your way to the bench, right next to the field and placed the water bottle trays down, as cheering filled the stadium, you both looked behind you.

“ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, our undefeated, five-time league winners, the varsity football team!” the announcer said as the cheers only got louder. the varsity boys ran onto the field, ajax leading the team. you rolled your eyes. you’d admit, he looked good in the navy blue and white jersey, adorning the number 11. ajax was the captain and star of the team, his stats practically outdid any other running back in the county. he ranked first for almost every category, he was a good running back, you’d give him that at least. but at that moment, a feeling came over you. you felt jealous. jealous of the new cheerleader girl he was seeing, jealous of his success, you irrevocably hated him.

“god alhaitham looks good.” kaveh said, very much distracted when they began to sing the national anthem.

“you’re shameless, kaveh.”

“well, the national anthem definitely did not include gay people so…”

the game began, and the annoying and repetitive chants from the cheerleaders almost got stuck in your head. they even had a special one for their glorious star boy tartaglia! you could give zero fucks about him and his stupid chant, but you couldn’t help but notice him staring you down as the rival team took a time out. he gulped his water, sweat dripping from his slicked-back hair, before returning back to the field. as promised, it was kaveh’s job to offer him water, not yours. when one team scored, the other followed suit, the game was neck and neck. watching ajax skillfully receive alhaitham’s (the quarterback) throws and run it was something you could watch all day. but you hated him, so you pretended to look busy every time the home team ran a point. it was halftime now, and you and kaveh hung around the bench. they were up by only two points, it was practically anyone’s game, but that’s what makes the epic highs and lows of highschool football, right?

“swear to god, ajax keeps looking at you.” kaveh whispered to you as you refilled the green water bottles. the boys went into the team room as you and kaveh stayed outside. ajax’s fan girls in the stands had finally calmed down. you just looked at him and looked away as you continued to fill up the water. “like, every time he scores a touch down, he’ll do his stupid little celebration and he’ll glance over here—and then i’d look at you, and of course—‘oh, she’s trying to look distracted and pretend to not care again!’.” kaveh rolled his eyes at you, looking at you for an answer. “you still care about him, don’t you?” this time, you didn’t look at him and just stared at the bottle.

“yeah, like i’d give two shits about the school fuck boy. it’s just, i can’t help but remember how he used to be, that’s all.” it was a blatant lie, and kaveh knew. but he decided to stop pressing where it hurts. and just like that, half time was over and the team looked spent, but they still had 30 minutes to clutch. the cheers started up again. another touchdown, and chants of his name were the only things heard in the stadium. you felt surrounded. you just wanted to go home.

finally, the seventh minute began. the scoreboard emitting a soft glow displayed both home and away teams tied. everyone on the bleachers were all sat for these final minutes. including you. you watched intently with kaveh and your sports med teacher on the bench as they hiked the ball.

“alhaitham, number 9 is going for a throw,” the commentator’s voice reverberated through the field. alhaitham spots ajax, right on the 30 yard line, centered on the field. alhaitham takes a couple steps back and throws, the ball spins with accuracy. the crowd and kaveh all cheer.

“a dot! per usual from quarter back alhaitham, how many yards can their star running back score for the team!” ajax grabbed the ball and went for a right hook, swiftly dodging the defenders. he only got faster and faster as the cheers grew louder. he hooked right, and made his way for that touch down line.

“ajax! ajax! ajax!” the crowd chanted as kaveh and your teacher were now standing. you watched him closely, all of a sudden remembering back to when the two of you competed in your middle school’s flag football tournament. he had signed you up without you knowing, and you both somehow cinched first place.

“oh my god—” kaveh’s gasp snapped you out of your thoughts, as you looked onto the field.

the bleachers were silent now. ajax laid on his side, clutching his knee. the ball was long forgotten now.

“it appears number 11 is down.” the commentator remarked. your heart sank to your ass. you knew that knee injuries could fuck up anyone’s career in seconds. especially a running back’s. before you knew it, you were standing, your teacher yelled something to kaveh as he began running toward him to see what happened, you stood frozen. the cries of his fan girls behind you were the only things you could hear, kaveh was trying to tell you something, but you kept looking at ajax’s writhing body and back to kaveh, and back to ajax, and now at the rival team, and back to kaveh.

“y/n! are you listening? this is serious!” kaveh’s voice was almost a yell.

“i-i’m sorry, what do you need me to do?” you blinked a couple times.

“get the ice pack!” he yelled as kaveh made his way to the scene, the rival team went back to their bench as they were in small groups, most likely talking about what happened. you grabbed the ice pack from the cooler and ran over. his eyes were screwed shut as he cursed loudly, your teacher asking where it hurt.

“ah fuck, my knee! motherfu—” ajax bit back his curses with the back of his hand. your teacher radioed for a golf cart, which made you confused because you’d think someone would be calling 911.

“shouldn’t we be calling an ambulance..?” alhaitham asked, kneeling next to kaveh and ajax’s head. kaveh visibly looked flustered.

“y-yeah. we should! as a matter of fact, why don’t i just call them right—” your teacher cut kaveh off as he interjected.

“it’s a torn acl, if we call an ambulance right now, all they’ll do is give him some ice and painkillers which we very much have. we’re not spending 6k for an ice pack. save that money for the surgery.” your teacher remarked.

“the what..?” ajax looked at him with wide eyes as a campus supervisor came with a golf cart, the crowd was at a stand still.

“kaveh, stay here and take over for me. y/n, come with me.” you knew ajax’s injury was nothing life threatening, but you couldn’t help but worry for his future. you nodded your head as you and your teacher got into the front seat of the golf cart, cursing kaveh in your head, wishing it was him to take your place. ajax’s teammates carefully laid him on the golf cart and he cursed at them to be more careful. you rolled your eyes.

“ajax, we’re gonna need you to talk to us, we can’t have you passing out.” your teacher drove the golf cart to the recovery room, making sure to drive slowly over any bumps.

“you want me to talk? well, a torn acl is gonna ruin my goddamn career—fuck!” the golf cart jerked forward a little, making him curse.

“it’s probably not completely torn, ajax. you’ll recover in no time.” your teacher said.

“you’ll probably be out for the season.” you added, you couldn’t help but add a little salt in the wound.

“you’ll be out for the fucking year if you don’t shut the fuck up.” ajax snapped back at you.

“you need some ice dipshit?” you turned around with the ice pack and tossed it onto his knee, making him yell out in pain.

“what the FUCK is wrong with you—” he yelped in pain again, you just rolled your eyes.

“y/n! cut it out! you too, ajax. we’re here.” the teacher took the key out of the golf cart and looked at you. “i need to call his parents and file a report for the insurance, i’m trusting you to patch any cuts and tape his knee for the time being. keep the ice on it—and please don’t assault him.” your teacher was already on their way as they headed towards the office. you didn’t even get a minute to protest.

“no fucking way they just left me with this loser.” ajax scoffed from the back seat of the golf cart.

“at least my knee still works.” you grabbed the key and unlocked the recovery room, it had a couple of medical beds and cabinets filled with all kinds of medical equipment. you turned the lights on as you heard ajax outside yell.

“now you’re just leaving me? jesus, i couldn’t have asked for someone better to help me.” you ignored him as that was not what you were doing. you went to the smaller room in the back to get a wheelchair to get him onto one of the beds. you walked back outside, ajax’s face turned from one of pain to an angered look the minute you stepped outside. you wheeled the wheel chair to him.

“get on.” you said with little to no remorse.

“yeah let me just fly onto the fucking wheel chair why not. can you help me?” ajax yelled as he tried to sit up straight on the back seat. you scoffed and somehow got him onto the wheel chair. you both were silent, but you knew when ajax went quiet, he was overthinking. you knew he was thinking about what he’d do with his injury. you decided to give him something else to think about.

“it’s not that bad ajax. you survived skateboarding into a brick wall, i’m sure you’ll be fine.” you brought up an old memory the both of you shared.

“everyone saw. even the fucking scouters—i’m done for.” your words seemed to fly past his head. almost like he forgot about you and his’ history. you helped him onto the medical bed and made him sit straight so you could tape his knee. you went into the back room to get more ice. from the main room, you heard him start talking again.

“when i ran into that brick wall, you were the only one there. i didn’t have scouters that could get me d1 scholarships.” he remarked. he did remember at least. you came back with a roll of medical tape and some ice.

“you need to roll you pants up past your knee.” you went for the straight forward route as anything else would’ve gotten too awkward.

“yeah no fucking way that’s happening, cut it off for all i care.” you figured getting the leg of the pants over his injury wouldn’t be the most best of things, so you grabbed a pair of scissors and cut his pants just above his thigh. he hissed in pain even though you didn’t even touch it. he was always this dramatic, you thought to yourself. you unrolled the pieces of tape and got to work. if ajax was good at football, you were the best at sports medicine. you knew how to wrap an ankle like second nature—a big part of the reason why your teacher asked you to assist, not kaveh. he went quiet again, and you’d much rather have him yelling at you than overthinking the situation after all this.

“how’s teucer?” you asked as he hissed whenever you’d place a piece of tape on his knee.

“w-why do you care? can you be any more gentle?” you looked up at him and kept working. you weren’t any gentler, you just worked slower to make it look like you were. he fell for it easily.

“he’s fine. he just graduated elementary—ow, school.” he responded after a minute passed.

“that’s good.” you said in quieter-than-usual tone. you couldn’t deny it was still awkward between you two. you hadn’t had a conversation like this in practically years, and you never thought you would have to. “so what exactly happened out there? you trip or something?” you knew he didn’t trip. you also knew that ajax had a tendency to overestimate himself, overall causing him more harm than good.

“the turf must’ve been off.” he said looking away. ajax was well aware he let himself get cocky. it was the final minutes of the game and he wanted to end it off strong. in doing so, he got himself a torn acl. good going ajax.

“mhm..”

“what? don’t believe me?” before you could answer the question, your teacher walked in. the first thing ajax asked was if they won the game or not. his “half touchdown” didn’t count, leaving them still tied.

“we won. but it was still a close call.”

ajax looked like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. he was already upset with his injury, and a loss especially with their title as undefeated would be 10x worse. you tried to look normal, but in truth, you were a little happy for the team. after all, you had some sense of school pride.

“your mom is outside. i’ve talked to her already and explained the injury in length. please focus on resting, then let’s talk about your next games.” with that, your teacher left you both alone again.

“can you walk?” you asked.

“i’ll try.” he said wincing as he got up. you went to his side and put his arm around you. it was silent. you helped him to the parking lot, occasional swears were heard from him. you said his mom waiting outside of the car.

“oh sweetie!” ajax’s mom held him tightly.

“hi mom, i’m fine.” his words were muffled into her shoulder.

“oh goodness, let’s get you in the car!” she helped him into the passanger seat. they spoke to each other in russian, it sounded like he was getting scolded. it was none of your business anyway. after doing so, she came back out.

“y/n? i remember you!” she said, giving you a hug.

“hi mrs tartaglia.” ajax’s mom had a soft spot for you. she’d always pack you extra food, and would never fail to treat you like one of her own, it made you happy. due to the circumstances, you hadn’t seen her in what felt like years.

“how’ve you been? we’ve missed you!” her hand stayed on your shoulder, her voice was genuine. but who exactly did she mean by “we”?

“i’ve been alright, thanks for asking.”

“ajax still talks about you, you should come over some time! teucer and tonia miss you!”

huh?

did you hear that right?

maybe it she didn’t actually mean it like that, why would ajax still be talking about you?

ajax rolled down the window and stuck his head out.

“mom i’m hurting let’s go.” he half shouted.

“alright, alright. i’ll see you soon hopefully, y/n! thank you for looking after ajax!” she said with a warm smile as she got back in the car before you could say a word. you simply waved and smiled back at her. you glanced over for a second, seeing ajax on his phone. you didn’t understand. did ajax really stil talk about you? you’d have a lot to tell kaveh..

the two of them left the parking lot in their black tahoe suv. you just stood and watched. you cursed to yourself. you couldn’t understand why ajax’s words pulled at your heartstrings a little. you were confused. and things would only get more confusing from there.

281 notes · View notes

sparklingyandere · 5 months

Text

Cabin Anthology

Childe/GN! Reader

summary: a somewhat broken darling reflects on their captivity

word count: 2.5k

warnings: stockholm syndrome, violence, asphyxiation, childe is called ajax, manipulation, abuse, dissociation, codependence, anxiety and paranoia, neglect

Sometimes, Ajax went away for long periods of time.

He would leave the pantry barely stocked, forcing you to ration for yourself for archons-know how long, and he'd lock away all the matches and kindling so the cabin was always freezing.

In your first few weeks in your new home, he left only for hours or days at a time, returning with food or firewood, never warning you when he'd come back.

At first, you used that time to the fullest, scrambling through every inch of the little cabin he kept you in, searching for any secrets you could exploit.

You thought about escaping so often then, your every waking moment spent contemplating how you'd do it, convincing Ajax you could be left alone, and biding your time until the perfect opportunity.

Then, your opportunity came. Ajax, seemingly out of nowhere, gifted you a novel written in your home country, which he must have had imported just for you.

"Here, to keep you entertained while I'm gone," he said, the word ‘gone’ attracting your attention more than the gift itself, "I'm going on a… a trip. For a week." He was coy about this 'trip,' as if you were dumb. "Can I trust you here by yourself for that long, darling?" he asked, cupping your cheek tenderly, in stark contrast to his threatening words. His tone was playful, but you picked up on the ‘hidden’ warning. Regardless, you nodded your head eagerly, promising good behavior, ushering him out the door. A whole week! You could be halfway to Natlan by then.

The following attempt was such an explosive failure, you remember it like it was yesterday. Ajax unexpectedly came back from his trip several days early, swinging the wooden door wide open with a call of your name- only to see you knelt on the floor before him with a pin in hand- you had been caught red-handed picking the lock.

Time seemed to be still in that moment, you remember struggling to read Ajax's blank expression, his dead eyes seeming to look through you, not at you. Then, without warning, he grabbed you by the arm and flung you out the door into the Snezhnayan winter.

It was cold. You held your arms out to catch your fall and they were buried almost to the elbow in freezing snow. You turned back to look at Ajax, who was glaring at you from the doorframe.

"You want out there? Fine." He slammed the door shut and clicked the lock.

Shivering, you looked around and saw, for the first time, the outside of your cozy prison. It rested in a wide clearing surrounded by a dense pine forest that seemed to stretch forever. Over the trees, distantly, you saw mountains.

You tried to stand up on your wobbly, trembling knees, struggling to find balance in the thick snow. You quickly came to realize that you were severely underdressed for this cold, in only thin, loose fabric. No worries, you could still make this work. After all, you were outside, that was the hard part, really.

Luckily, you could see Ajax's trail of smushed snow and walk through his bootprints. Every barefooted step towards the treeline was pure torture, but hopefully you could follow the trail to wherever Ajax was coming from.

The frosty air seemed to seep quickly through your flesh and into your bones. You could barely feel your feet, extremities already becoming numb and legs getting stiff, but you forced yourself to keep going. You had to try.

You looked back towards the cabin; smoke was now pouring from the chimney. You thought about the warm fire Ajax must have lit, you longingly pictured the thick fur coat he had been wearing when he opened the door, and you felt…

Hopeless. You were never getting out of here.

You took a few more wobbly steps, so close to the treeline. Maybe I can use sticks to make a fire, you thought, the snow is thinner under the trees, surely it will be smooth sailing from there. You managed another step before your knees gave out and you felt the cold hug of the snow. Snowflakes melted instantly against your warmer skin, leaving you freezing and wet.

You close your eyes. At least you tried.

Some time (minutes, hours?) later, you felt your cold body being lifted from the snow and wrapped in something soft and warm. Instantly, you cuddled into it, coherent thoughts slowly returning to your mind. You're so relieved that you're alive, you forget where you are, you don't even bother to open your eyes and simply snuggle closer into the warmth.

You yelp in surprise when you're suddenly dropped onto the hard, dry floor.

Ajax kneels over you, his usually sharp features downturned with concern.

You stared at him blankly for a moment, your still-foggy brain swirling with conflicting emotions. You struggled over whether to be angry or thankful, but in the end, the only thing that mattered to you in that moment was that you were so cold, and Ajax was so warm.

You crawl forward into his arms, which wrap around you perfectly, like two thick, heavy blankets. He hugs you tightly, a warm hand gently combing through your hair. “‘m sorry,” you whimper, bluish lips barely able to form the words you want to say.

"What did we learn?" He asked gently, his voice was barely a whisper, but his hot breath against your neck felt like a kiss.

You didn't try to escape again after that.

Ajax's love was like quicksand. It sucked you in and suffocated you, much like the man himself. When he wasn't out for 'business' (he always tiptoed around the subject, like you didn't know who he was) he was attached to you at the hip.

Tonight was one such night. A blizzard raged outside, making it impossible to see out the frosty windows. The cabin was dark, and you sighed through chattering teeth, these stormy nights were among the creepiest, the gravity of your situation being significantly more difficult to ignore. Ajax had his arm slung over your shoulder, a thick quilt- sewn by his mother as a housewarming gift- settled around both your shoulders. You could barely make out the curves of his face in the dim lighting, but you didn't need to see him to feel his gaze.

He lifted a nimble hand to stroke your face. His calloused hand was cold too, freezing and rough, and you flinched away, shivering. Despite that, he smiled. "Is my bunny cold?" he teased.

"No," you whined, unconvincing, curling the blanket ever tighter around yourself as Ajax pulled away from you, taking his body heat with him. He strode over to the stone fireplace along the far wall of your small living den, and you watched him kneel before it, lamenting the Ajax-shaped emptiness in the seat next to you.

You intently watched Ajax strike a match, a small, orange light illuminating his face. The dark shadows contrasting the warm glow made his face look strangely creepy, but also accentuated his sharp, strangely handsome features. You couldn't help but smile weakly as he kindled the little match into a flame. Ajax always kept you warm, you couldn't survive a place like this without him. you wouldn't be in a place like this without him, part of you thinks, a small, quiet part that gets quieter every day. You smother the thought.

The fire steadily grew, warmer and brighter, and Ajax turned to you, smiling expectantly. You snapped out of your thoughts and sit up straight. "Thank you, Ajax," you mutter, obediently.

He opens a storage chest by the fireplace and pulls out a hardcover book and some pillows. "Won't you come sit with me?" he orders, and you crawl off the sofa, pulling the blanket alongside you, to sit on the wooden floor next to Ajax. The warm light of the fireplace allows you to see his book in more detail. Snezhnayan Fairy Tales, it looks old: faded, greyish-brown covers and a fancy title typed in an outdated font. It's edges were slightly frayed, worn down from being held by so many hands.

Ajax settles a pillow between his legs and invites you to lay in his lap. You do so, letting the heat from the fire combined with his warmth sink deeply into you, making you sleepy. Ajax cracks open his dusty book- literally, it makes a crack sound as it opens, possibly for the first time in years- flips the pages to a random story and starts reading to you in a gentle, coddling voice.

Naively, you think to yourself that this perfect evening could only be better with a warm cup of cocoa, as if this was normal, cute even, like you were lovers on a couples retreat. You don't have much time to ponder before Ajax's voice lulls you soundly to sleep.

Ajax was haunted by a hunger you could never sate; his dull, deep-blue eyes glazing over with a need you didn't understand. He would suddenly vanish, unannounced, in the middle of the day, often leaving you wondering how long you'd be forced to fend for yourself in your freezing hellscape.

Hours later, he'd stumble through the main door, cheerful like nothing had happened, the light having returned to his eyes, making him look almost sane. Usually, you were so happy he hadn't left you for dead, you could ignore the mysterious stains on his clothes- they were probably there before- and the faint, rusty odor he carried.

(If you dared ask where he went, he'd dance around the topic, merely chastising you for poking your nose where it ‘doesn't belong,’ changing the topic to something he deemed appropriate for you. The double life he had, for some reason, he was desperate to keep it secret from you, like he thought you couldn't handle it.)

You recall one dark day in particular, in which you had awoken from a peaceful slumber to a completely empty house…

Ajax rarely let you wake up alone, so you were instantly on edge. Tentatively, you explored each room, one by one, calling out Ajax's name. Each second you couldn't find him, your yelling became increasingly panicked, breathing becoming more and more erratic. So what if he isn't home, you tried to console yourself, to no avail, he leaves all the time… except, since the incident, he never left without saying goodbye.

Where had he gone? What if he was finally bored of you- you had been settling a bit too much into routine lately- and he abandoned you here to freeze to death?

You paced back and forth through the house for what felt like hours, mind racing with worst-case scenarios. In truth, you had no idea what time it was, but when the faint glow through the windows transitioned from yellow to orange to silver, you officially feared the worst.

Unable to control your anxiety, you sank to your knees and let out a desperate scream. It was over, Ajax was gone and you'd either freeze or starve-

The door creaked open, Ajax's concerned, but chipper voice echoing in your ears, “Bunny? You okay? I heard-”

You jerk your head up, teary eyes making contact with Ajax's beautiful face as he finally walks in, and you start sobbing with relief. You leap to your feet and throw yourself onto him. Seeing your sorry state, Ajax chuckles and wraps his arms around you, “Aww, I missed you too, cutie” He teases, and even through your hysterics, you find the energy to be angry.

“You left! How could you laugh at me-?” You hiccup through your sobs, only tickling Ajax more. You beat your fists against his chest angrily, to no effect. “I was so…” you trail off with a sniffle.

Ajax manages to quiet his blatant snickering long enough to cajole you, taking your swinging fists in his hands to still them. “It's okay, Bunny, I'm here now… I would never leave you, silly.” His condescending tone is not lost on you, but you are too exhausted from bawling to care, finally giving into him. Just as you always do. One of his hands presses against the back of your head, holding you against his chest and gently stroking your scalp. The soothing gesture makes you just sleepy enough that when he scoops his free arm under your knees, you don't resist.

You and Ajax both worked quite hard to maintain the flimsy illusion that this relationship was any kind of happy, any semblance of normal. Your sanity depended on it, but even so, the facade sometimes slipped.

The murky, cold dishwater swallows your hands up to your wrists. You mindlessly scrub porcelain, staring at the reflective metal basin. Your reflection is warped by the water, you barely recognize yourself. Not that you could anyways.

You look back at your failed attempts to resist or reason with him and cringe. Each night spent locked in the cellar, until your fists ached from banging the door and your voice was raw from crying out to him, still haunted you.

That cellar- he must have had it built just to torture you- it had never been used for anything else. It was a wide, empty room with four concrete walls and a filthy dirt floor. Once, you stupidly tried to exploit your cellar time by digging a hole in the corner, trying to burrow out like some…

Like some kind of bunny.

Of course, you got caught, when Ajax came down the creaky steps to fetch you (maybe he found your lack of wailing suspicious) with a storm lantern in hand. By the light of the lantern, your little crater, only a few inches deep, was all-too visible. He was so angry, he…

…You put your hands over his, not prying them away, just holding tightly onto him. Though you are pleading with your eyes for him to let you go, secretly, deep down, you hope that he won't, because the warmth of his hands and the burning in your lungs makes you feel alive. It makes adrenaline course through your nerves in a terrible, exciting way that you learned to love, because if you didn't, you wouldn't survive…

You shudder at the memory. Best not to think about it.

A warm hand resting itself on your shoulder pulls you out of your thoughts. You jump away from the touch, skittish, and Ajax laughs. Over the years, you had come to hate that melodic sound, as it always seemed to be at your expense.

You pull your hands from the water to see that they were pruned and wrinkly. How long have you been standing here?

“S-sorry, Ajax, I don't know what's gotten into me…” you mutter, still coming to terms with the reality you were in.

His hand on your shoulder trailed down your arm, eventually clasping your still-wet hand. “That's okay, Bunny, you'll make it up to me,” he remarks playfully. Before you can ask how, he starts pulling you with him down the hall.

In the end, though, you know it doesn't matter. You'd do anything to keep him happy, and not just because your life might depend on it. You were hesitant to admit it to yourself, and certainly never to him, but you knew why.

Sometimes, you think he knew it, too.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin #yandere #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere childe x reader #gender neutral reader #my first time writing for childe! yay!#tag readers and childe fans: do you prefer to see him called childe #or ajax or something else #and on that note what name do you prefer for the reader?#i usually prefer to just avoid calling them anything but a nickname felt right here #thank you for reading <3

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brenbofen · 10 months

Text

tartagli,,,,foul legaxy,,,,oughhh

Sub Foul Legacy Tartaglia x Dom GN Reader

Broadcaster Message - Didn’t know what to title this so I just used what I named the story in my notes app… Childe has such a special place in my heart, my puppy boy, oughh i love him.

Notes 🗒️ - Sub Foul Legacy Tartaglia, Dom Gender Neutral Reader, Size Difference, Monster Fucker, Partially me dumping HCs about Foul Legacy, Belly Bulge, Cumflation, Praise, Pet Names ( Baby, Love ), Let me know if I missed anything !!

!! Not Proof Read !!

No matter how many times you protested and told him it was a bad idea, Tartaglia didn’t listen. Changing into his large monstrous form. His clawed hands holding your hips as you sat in his lap, watching you carefully. You had to admit, despite your protests and disdain for this form, it was attractive. You peeled the large mask from his face, bright blue eyes staring back at you. You ran your hand through his long, slicked back hair. Tartaglia leaned into your touch, a low purr escaping his throat.

You felt impulsive, many ideas brewing in your mind, you made a sudden harsh tug on Tartaglia’s hair, making him hiss in response. You opened his mouth further with your thumb, admiring the sharp fangs without his mouth. Tartaglia grunted at the uncomfortable feeling, having one hand gripping his hair and the other holding his mouth agape. You eventually moved both hands to his forearms, looking up at him.

Tartaglia watched as you ran your hands along his armored body, knowing you had some crazy idea floating around. “We won’t have this for long… Why don’t we put it to good use?” You asked, looking up at Tartaglia. He flushed, having an idea as to what you were implying. You slid of his lap, resting your hands on the belt of his armor. Tartaglia let out a sound similar to chirping, which made you laugh, as you removed the parts of his armor that weren’t organic. While most of his armor was part of his body, you learned that areas of vulnerability had artificial armor, areas like his neck, chest, and you assumed, his crotch.

You removed the armor around Tartaglia’s legs and hips, smiling when you saw a thin cloth covering his dick. You glanced back up at the man, seeing his eyes half-lidded, biting down on his lip.

There was something that fascinated you about Foul Legacy, just how monstrous Tartaglia would become but still act and feel human. How even when he had large fangs that poked out from his top lip, long purple tongue that made you whine whenever it dragged across your skin, long sharp claws and dug into your back, his eyes were still human.

You cooed at Tartaglia, reaching up and kissing his jaw and neck, feeling his hands rest on your back. “You okay with this, baby?” Tartaglia just nodded, a soft hum leaving his lips.

You moved away again, tugging on the fabric concealing his growing erection. “Let me know if you need me to stop.” You mumbled before pulling the fabric down, revealing Tartaglia’s aching cock. It was so big. You ran your hand along the underside of it, hearing Tartaglia let out strained whines. “Gosh…” You ran a finger over his tip, pre already spilling from it. You glanced back up at Tartaglia. He let out a whimper as you squeezed your hand around his dick, one hand presses against his mouth and the other holding himself up.

You laughed as you watched him, still tugging and squeezing his dick. “You’re so sensitive today.” You cooed at Tartaglia, squeezing his thigh. Tartaglia just nodded slowly, his purple cock aching in your hand. You moved so you could remove your pants, still playing with Tartaglia’s dick. You slipped two fingers into your hold, smiling when you saw Tartaglia’s eyes go wide and a trill leave his lips when you groaned at the feeling of your fingers stretching yourself out. You squeezed his twitching cock with your free hand, groans spilling from your lips, only exciting Tartaglia more.

You weren’t sure if any amount of preparation could ease Tartaglia’s dick into you easier, but you at least wanted to try. Once you decided you were ready you stood up, climbing into Tartaglia’s lap and angling yourself so you were aligned with his dick. You squeezed your hips tightly, helping you lower yourself onto him. You hissed as you felt his fat dick press into you, stretching you out further. Tartaglia’s claws dug into your hips at the feeling of you squeezing around him, a low growl emanating from his throat.

You were eventually able to fit his whole length inside, a large lump forming in your stomach. You noticed Tartaglia staring at it for a moment, one clawed hand grazing over the spot, almost as if he couldn’t believe it was him. He eventually returned to the present and began to massage your hips, leaning down and pressing his face into your neck, purring loudly.

You felt so good around him and you were so warm, he couldn’t get enough of you. You slowly began to roll your hips,Tartaglia biting down on your neck in an attempt to suppress his whines. You cooed at him, running your hands through his hair. He was so big, pressing against your insides, hitting all the right spots as you moved your hips.

Tartaglia continued to bite down on your neck, licking any spots that began to bleed. He made soft chirping sounds mixed with groans, squeezing your ass as you moved your hips faster. “You’re doing so good, love.” You hummed, tangling your fingers into Tartaglia’s mane. He whined loudly, praising you, telling you how god you made him feel and how much he loved you. You loved watching him crumble before you, the confident 11th Harbinger melting like putty in your hands.

You began to bounce up and down Tartaglia’s dick, groaning as you felt his dick ram into you. You griped his shoulders tightly, leaning back as you felt warmth pool in your stomach. “Archons… You’re so big, baby.” You moaned, tilting your head back as you picked up the pace. Tartaglia supported your back, groans and whines spilling from his lips. “Fffuckk—“ You hissed, feeling yourself grow closer and closer to your orgasm. You could tell Tartaglia was close to his as well, wrapping his arms around your body, practically encasing you in a tight hug.

Chirps and moans escaped him, interrupting his praises and pleads. He was addicted to the feeling of you around him, hands clawing into your back, likely drawing blood. You lifted your hips and slammed down onto Tartaglia’s dick, feeling you finally reach your peak. You squeezed around Tartaglia during your orgasm, pushing Tartaglia to his.

He comes in you, filling you so full of his cum, stomach big from how much he stuffed in you. Happy chirps and praises fall from him, face buried into your neck.

You could hear the rumbling of his purrs die down as he returned to normal, his now smaller frame still wrapped tightly around you. You tightened around his now soft dick, his cum spilling out around it and onto the floor. Tartaglia fell onto his back, pulling you down with him.

He pulled his head back and stared at you, hair fallen all over his face. You hummed, reaching up and brushing his hair away. “We should clean up.” You mumbled, but neither of you moved, still laying on the floor. “Later.” Tartaglia said softly, closing his eyes. You laughed, resting your head on his chest, listening to his breathing and eventually dozing off.

#📺 brenbofen’s stories #writing #genshin impact x reader #tartaglia x reader #gender neutral reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #foul legacy #foul legacy x reader #genshin impact smut #tartaglia smut #why does this man have so many names #what the hell #sub tartaglia #sub childe #dom reader

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meidnightrain · 5 months

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YOU ARE IN LOVE - childe

❝ and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars and why i’ve spent my whole life trying to put it into words. ❞

summary: you’ve never given thought to your relationship with your childhood friend with the harbinger, until it changes into something different

warnings: reader is gn, none

notes: day 15! this song is one of my absolute favs and hence, why this fic has to be the one i’m the proudest of! hope you like it!

taglist (open): @staretes , @rynnlvrs , @sentifua , @i-probably-sleep-too-much , @reilly34 , @qqingque , @akutasoda , @mhiieee , @starryshinyskies , @kazemiya , @pix-stuff , @inscaraithrust

you’ve never been a stranger to his looks, able to read the boy you’ve grown up with your whole life like an open book. and this smile, hidden with so many emotions threatening to burst at the seams in this dark room you both were in, was only for your watchful eyes.

time always moved too fast when you were with him, the days that once dragged endlessly were not gone in a blink of an eye. you’d always play it back in your memory like rewinding a phonograph, skipping to your favourite part and reliving every moment all over again.

when he had came back from a long mission in liyue, buttoned and draped his coat jacket over your shivering body, apologised for taking so long to come back home to you. when he would make lighthearted jokes that were more misses than hits, see the way his lips would turn down slightly, frown turned upside down by a single kiss on the cheek. it wasn’t proof, not much of it but you saw enough.

he had always loved small talk and long walks in the winter wonderland of your homeland, the sneaky pranks he’d once pull by placing his freezing hands on your neck and make you shriek in shock. that was years ago, his cold hands had turned warm, his every touch warming you up quicker than any warmth a fire could offer.

when you would have coffee from fontaine, which he had specially imported for you at midnight, his strong arms around your waist and his bed-head snuggled in the crook of your neck as you made two steaming cups.

the moonlight reflected the chain on his neck, the necklace that you had gifted to him long ago, one with the sigil of a snowflake.

a snowflake that carried more meaning to the both of you, a snowflake that he had tried to gift you when you were kids. to him you were as pure as snow, beautiful and fragile in his gentle touch. and when he had murmured for you to look up and caused the both of your shoulders to brush. it wasn’t proof, not much of it but you felt enough.

when you woke up with him in the morning, the sunlight shining through the curtains. his once failed attempts at making you breakfast, laughing sheepishly as he held two pieces of burnt toast. you’d keep his shirt, a reminder of him when he had to leave for his duties carried him elsewhere and he’d keep his promise to always return to you.

and for once, childe could let go of his fears and ghosts when he was around you. the abyss, the fatui, the thrill of battle wearing him down like a soldier who had spent his whole life on the frontline. not with you, you were the home he looked forward to and he was the soldier you waited for to come back from the war. one small step for him, not much but it was enough.

when he would kiss you on the sidewalk after a long mission, twirl you in the air and you’d hold your breath to savour the moment as you drank him in like water thirstily. when the aftermath of a fight would linger heavily between you two till the point you’d both cave in and talk, for you couldn’t live without the other.

when he had woke up one night with a strange look on his face, the way he had paused and uncharacteristically stumbled over his words. your confused but amused smile at the realisation of how young the both of you were, young idiots in true love. he was never the eleventh of the fatui harbingers to you, he was ajax, your ajax always and forevermore.

“you’re my best friend,” he had said, pinching both your cheeks sleepily and shifting to hold onto you tighter. you knew what it was, being spooned in his embrace, he was in love.

and so it goes, it was like the both of you were dancing in a snow globe round and round. from when your short stubby legs would chase him around in the snow to waltzing with him in the middle of the night, the whole world asleep and only the two of you were awake. it was a whole collection of snow globes picturing the moments and growth of your relationship. from your first encounter, from when you had both become best friends, from when you had realised that you were in love.

when childe would miss you on the nights he had to spend without you, long torturous days where all his dreams were about feeling the ghost of your lips on him, your phantom fingers tracing his body in all the places you had memorised so long ago, your invisible touch causing him to buckle and fall to his knees. how he’d cope by taking out the picture he had of you in his pocket, in his office back at the fatui headquarters, your smile captured on film not as bright as the one he would come home too.

when he would come home to you injured and battle-scarred, your heartbeat on the high line as you watched this strong man you loved so flinch at your touch. only wanting you and only you to patch him up, kiss it all better, only you to see this side of him. and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars. and why he’d spend his whole life trying to put into words, words that would describe how much you meant to him.

cause you could hear it in the silence, feel it on the way home with his arm linked in yours. you could see it with the lights out, the whole room shrouded in darkness except for him, who glowed and shined brighter than any star you’ve ever seen in the night sky.

that you are in love, true love.

<- prev masterpost next ->

#🕊️ - 1989 event #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin x gn reader #childe x reader #childe x you #ajax x reader #ajax x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #🪧 - event: 1988 #🗞️ - genshin impact fics

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heiayen · 6 months

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HALLOWEEN TRICK OR... TREAT! - gn!reader & various (itto, scaramouche, childe, xiao, neuvillette, baizhu, lyney, kaeya.)

summary: you go trick or treating with hopes or scaring someone and getting some delicious candies. many different things happen instead.

tags and notes: CAN BE READ AS PLATONIC, modern/highschool au, it's honestly more on the crack side. happy (early) halloween i am NOT dead despite what one might think <3

Your try of scaring Itto into giving you candies was… rather an unsuccessful one. You knocked on his doors, ready to jump from behind a wall and scare him the moment he looks around in search of you but… nothing. He never comes out and in confusion, you peek through the open doors. You only see the dark hallway, but not your friend. On the side is a mirror however and you look at it.

The mirror looks at you back. Fear starts to settle in your chest and you start to wonder if what you did was right. Your voice calls out the name of your friend, the slight tremble not going unnoticed. You push away the fear and walk further into the house, your gaze fixated on the empty, glassy surface. until you finally seem to notice something on it, its stare meeting your own. Before you manage to look behind yourself, a roar and a scream fills your ears and it takes you a second to realize something.

The scream was yours. You scramble out of the house, hand clutching your chest and you can hear the roar evolve into a terribly loud laugh. You look behind yourself, breathing heavily to… see your dearest friend, standing here proudly, satisfaction from scaring you clear on his face. And all you can do is stare at him in disbelief, and when the shock falls away, demand an entire pack of candies for nearly sending you into a heart attack. You have learned your lesson.

You smile at your friend, Kunikuzushi, with your bag in front of you. You knew scaring him would only backfire, so you opted for being nice and simply asking for candies. That surely wouldn't backfir– wait, no, what does he mean by no? He closed the doors on you. Just like that. Your jaw drops and you stare in confusion at the doors. What on the loving earth does he mean by no?

You knock on the doors again and yell for him to open and not be an asshole. You take your candies very seriously, after all. You would not leave empty-handed, even if it meant fighting for the sweets.

You were ready to fight to blood and bones, till suddenly Kunikuzushi opens the doors again, an entire bag of candies in his hands. He drops them all into your bag and says how he was just messing with you. He picked the wrong person to mess with and you promise, you swear on your heart, that he will be met with revenge.

There was one thing to be expected from Childe. He would not be the person to easily give up on his candies. But maybe it was his lust for a fight that ultimately brought him down to his own demise… Because the moment he opened the doors and brutally attacked you with a water gun, you knew you couldn't give up without a fight. He wanted a trick, and so he would get one.

You attack him with your bag, swinging violently at his gun. It surprises him, but if anything, it only fuels his lust for bloodshed even more. With a cry you swing again, and this time he loses the grip on his gun. You waste no time grabbing it from the floor and using all the leftover ammunition on him.

In the end, Childe is not only positively soaked in water but also loses half of his candies, taken by no one else but you. You happily leave his house, your bag now heavier. But a voice behind your head is telling you, whispering to your ear to not sleep tonight. You never know when the waves of revenge will come back, after all… and just maybe, it was you who picked the wrong opponent tonight, not him.

Lyney, poor Lyney… You were prepared for him, actually. He is known for magic tricks, after all, so how could you go unprepared? Surely he will try to trick you, scare you before giving you the candies. But fate had different plans for him, oh, so different from his. The stars were on your side. The moment you opened the doors, you saw no one. For this, you are prepared, even suspecting that maybe his sister, Lynette, is helping him. You call for his name then and look around the doors… but you still don't find him. You come to the conclusion that, maybe, he just stepped up his game. So… you wait patiently. And then you hear some noise coming from… a bush? And some nervous rambling?

You go and look at the bush and see Lyney sitting inside here, his vampire cape stuck in between the branches and leaves, making him unable to leave the bush. You try your hardest to not laugh at him but fail, making him finally look at you and smile nervously in embarrassment. Poor magician-vampire, his terrible plan of scaring you failed… He tries to convince you that yes, this was a part of the plan later, Lynette was the one meant to actually scare you, but she is quick to disprove his claims. Not even his sister is on his side.

You try to scare Xiao. It fails. His shoulders jump just a little, but other than this (and maybe raised eyebrows), there is nothing. You stare at him, he stares back at you and you quietly ask him for candies, already feeling the warmth of shame creeping on your neck. He gives you candies and before he can even say anything, and you see him opening his mouth, you nod your head in thanks and, to add to your clownery, close his doors yourself.

You walk away and sit on the pavement. This was terrible. You make a mental note for yourself to never try to scare Xiao ever again unless you have a death of embarrassment wish. At least… you got your favorite candies out of it. As you sit here you start to wonder if he maybe bought these candies just for you…

You knock on Neuvillette's doors. He opens them. You ask for candies. Turns out he forgot to prepare them. There is a moment of silence between you two until he excuses himself for a moment and leaves. You patiently wait here for a good minute, a smile on your lips and laughter threatening to burst at the comedy of this situation.

He comes back then with a bar of chocolate and apologizes for not preparing anything, even though he didn't know you would come. You find it really nice and assure him that it's no problem. After all, an entire bar of chocolate is still better than only a few candies…

A part of you doesn't really expect Baizhu to prepare any candies, but you are pleasantly surprised upon seeing a bowl of sweets on his shelf after he opens the doors. And to your another surprise, all these candies are… well, more on the healthy side. Fruit candies, you can even spot an actual strawberry somewhere in the bowl, some chocolate-less sweets, even some of them were simply homemade…

You find it really cute. You happily ask for a few of these sweets. Maybe you could make your own Halloween sweets next year… that would save some money on buying overpriced candies. You note this in your head for later. You also note to ask him for the recipe he used for some of the sweets… they simply were amazing.

The moment Kaeya opens the doors, you jump at him from behind the open doors with a roar and claws (plastic claws) ready to attack him. You see him jump and hit his shoulder on the doors. Yet Kaeya himself tries to make himself appear totally not scared, as if your little trick did nothing.

You hear the hilarious crack in his voice. You see how tightly his hand holds the doorknob. You let him go on with his little act of "not being scared". It would be a terrible thing if other than his shoulder, his poor, poor pride would also get bruised… For today, you decide to be nice.

#astronetwrk #favoniuslibrary #heia's writin'#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #kaeya x reader #baizhu x reader #neuvillette x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #xiao x reader #lyney x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #itto x reader #gender neutral reader

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obsessivelullabies · 2 months

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hi first just wanna say i love your work!! second, i have a request! a naive darling or a darling who just lives under a rock unintentionally finding out childe, their significant other, has been a fatui harbinger the entire time. he’d been keeping it a secret on purpose, never intending to tell them. how do you think he would react?

you'd never really questioned what your husband did for work. you knew he worked serving the tsaritsa to an extent, yet you never thought it was so major. you guessed he was a salesman or something..

perhaps you heard some gossip about the dangerous harbinger and the dots connected. however you found out, you're absolutely horrified. it didn't make sense. you knew ajax was a skilled fighter, but you always assumed he was a peaceful and rational man.

when you tell him your discovery, ajax would immediately deny it, trying his best to keep you calm. if you keep pushing, he'll finally admit it.

he'll be ready to soothe you, no matter how you react. if you wish to not see him, he understands, yet expensive, flashy gifts are on your doorstep every day. you aren't aware enough to notice the fatui agents he sent to follow you.

childe would do everything to make it up to you for lying. he sends you letters about how much he misses you and your sweet voice. he won't stop until his charms work and you're back in his arms.

if you insist on getting divorced, he'd resort to a much crueler strategy. he'd keep you locked up in your shared home, guards watching from all around, making sure you don't escape. childe treats you like a precious artifact, not wanting to hurt you further.

childe knows he has to keep you safe. nothing will stop him from keeping you safe and close to him.

masterlist! | requests open. | reblogs and comments appreciated.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere childe #childe #genshin #childe tartagalia #childe genshin impact #tartaglia #tartagila #yandere tartaglia #childe x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #ajax x reader #tartaglia genshin impact #gender neutral reader

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yuellii · 8 months

Text

baby, we’re the new romantics !

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 some born-rich, noisy man falls for a completely normal ( maybe struggling ) woman

feat. childe, referred to as ajax

wc. 2.7k

note. gn reader, modern au, references a scene from I Love Yoo, this is a little birthday fic for one of my very best friends in the whole wide world : @vivinens !!

To put it bluntly, it sucked working at McDonald’s.

Other than the fast-paced environment and the tough remarks from rude customers, what arguably sucked the most was that he worked in the building just across the street. Literally just a few steps and you’d be at risk of seeing him.

It wasn’t that you hated Ajax ( okay, maybe you did a little ); he was a fun way to wind down in-between classes sometimes at university because of his loud personality. And, he was attractive to stand next to, you’ll give him that in addition to being a very understanding friend. But seeing him in the workplace is quite possibly the last thing you could ever want to ask for.

What made matters even worse was during your desperate job search last month, when you got a recruitment offer at the place he worked at. You thought it’d be some small thing like where generic college students worked, not some big multi-million firm in this massive building with workers walking around in suits and pencil skirts galore. And of course, when you met with the mean recruiting lady named Rosalyne for your interview, it was impossible not to spot Ajax at the corner of your eyes with a goofy smile on his face.

And when Ms. Rosalyne went back to scold him after your interview, it was more than obvious you were only here because he pushed your application.

How embarrassing.

“You can try again!” he said to you in good spirits in the university courtyard one week after. The two of you were sitting together as the sun was setting on campus, having both finished all your classes for the day. “They’re opening another clerical position soon since our current one is leaving, apply then!” And to you, he was acting all completely normal in his normal young-adult way, meanwhile you were trying to erase the image of him in a suit from your head.

You sighed, “I don’t think the high-class life of business is for me yet, Ajax.”

The roll of your eyes caused him to visibly deflate. Just how obsessed was he with the idea of you getting hired? “But I want you to work with you so baddd…!” he groaned, dramatically shoving his hands onto his face.Then he leaned back forward, slumping until his forehead came down to rest on your shoulder. Such an attention-grabbing act of depression—you almost came to entertain the idea, too.

“I don’t even have office clothes,” you scoffed, bumping him off your shoulder.

He yelped from the force of your push for a moment before he grabbed your arm, pulling it so harshly with such a force that had you clashing right onto his chest ( Yeah, friends, or something like that ). And even as you began to punch on his chest in protest, he just hugged you tight and whined, “I can buy you some! You’ll fit right in—and I get to see you every day at school and at work!”

Seeing him every day sounded like hell, you were so sure this man was insane.

“You are not buying me office clothes!” you denied, still trying to push yourself away.

“I can totally afford it, though!” he pouted. After he relaxed his grip around your body, you still found it too tough to escape his weird embrace. That’s your karma for being friends with the guy who goes to the gym in-between classes, you suppose. And after more struggling to set yourself free, you eventually gave up as the sunset reduced to silence.

That was when he squeezed you tight once more for a last makeshift hug, then planted an ambiguously-friendly kiss on your cheek as he said, “Let’s go get dinner now? I’ll drive.”

“Yeah, sure. Can we get chicken nuggets?”

He lifted both of your bodies up to your feet, watching as you collected your things off the seat before he led you by the hand to his car. “Pff, you always want nuggets,” he teased. “But yeah, I’m down—there’s a McDonald’s right next to my work, let’s go there while I try to convince you to apply at my job!”

And now you work at said McDonald’s.

You didn’t tell him, of course. Only that you “finally got a job,” so that he could finally stop trying to get you hired at his stuffy building space.

It was pretty busy in the morning when people in office attire would come in for a quick, cheap coffee. Lunch and dinner time was also busy as expected—it was one of the things that made you happy to be a cashier and not one of the cooks or drive-through people.

And the best part about this was that you never saw the uptight Ms. Recruiter Rosalyne here, nor Ajax himself. You knew for a fact that Ajax only went to McDonald’s when it was with you, as he preferred other fast foods, so even if his work was just right there, you really didn’t have to worry about accidentally seeing him. If you did… Well, that would probably be really embarrassing, wouldn’t it?

It was one o’clock in the afternoon, lunch rush.

People were rude, your coworkers were irritable, customers were in a rush—horrible, really, but also a normal day for you. Just smile and put on that customer service voice and it will soon be over. Plus, you got free chicken nuggets for your own lunch break before this.

It was not until you felt your phone vibrate in the pocket of your jeans. Well. It was not that common to get a text like that. Your family should know you’re at work; your friends, too. Just one peak—only one, just while the customer in front of you is still holding up the line while he decides what to order. Propping your phone up behind the register, you open it to check your lockscreen.

orange fuckwad: heyyy you want some mcds nuggets?!?!? ;)

Holy shit. Absolutely not.

“Can I order the uhhh…” Oh good lord you have to turn off your phone now. “Can I order the uhhh McLobster?”

“Sorry sir, the McLobster was discontinued five years ago.” You were about to blow your brains out.

“No I swear I just ordered it last week?”

Your eyes kept shifting to the door. And there, finally, in all his glory making your heart absolutely drop in fear, was Ajax coming through the door. And for you, too—to buy you a box of chicken nuggets. In any other case, you’d find it endearing ( and it still was! ) but in this instance you really wanted to die right now.

The customer suddenly raised an eyebrow at you when you shifted your body to the side, trying to use his body as a shield from the eyes of your friend. There was a second cashier next to you—hopefully Ajax will line up on their line instead of yours. And hopefully, you could use this crusty McDonald’s hat to hide your face.

“Hey!” your coworker suddenly called out to you. You looked towards their empty cashier line with a glimmer of hope for good news. “I’m going on my lunch!” Your face dropped. “I’ll see you in 30, yeah?”

No! Not yeah! But you couldn’t do anything but plead with your facial expression as they left to the backroom, leaving Ajax with no choice but to join your line. If you could blow up this whole building right now, God, you would.

Five customers until him, four customers until him, three, two, one—

“Woah!” The surprise on his face felt insulting. Actually, you still used the hat to hide your face as best as you could. It was failing at hiding your identity from him as expected, but at least it helped you obscure the view of his… physique. Him, with his… um, his black slacks and white collared shirt that was just a little too tight on him, and his grey blazer that was thrown over his shoulder. One button at the top unfastened, almost as if he loosened it just to breathe during his lunch break.

And his hair, if you didn’t want to meet his eyes then you were honestly staring there. Whose hair was usually messy and tousled, now slicked perfectly for once with gel, all in a proper yet still very Ajax-way. The sides were in place, meanwhile strands over his eyes and at the top of his hair remained loose in that messy way that still characterized him. God, you might just die from embarrassment and awkwardness right now.

“This is where you work?” he asked, incredulously.

“Good afternoon, sir. What can I get for you today?” you smiled. Please, please just go with it.

He looked surprised at your voice, especially since it was so fabricated and one he had not heard before. You just hoped he wouldn’t be a dumb prick to you today, just this once. “Oh, um…” Please, please. “One ten-piece chicken nugget, please.” Thank God.

“Would you like a drink with that?”

“Yes, one large soda, if that’s okay?”

“Will that be all?”

“Uh.” He looked confused. You just stared at him. “Yeah… Yeah, I think so.”

Then he swiped his card, you directed him to the side, and he left the line. With a lingering gaze, of course. He looked like a lost ( and maybe even a little hurt ) puppy after his order, and as much as this made you feel sad for him, you were just glad to get through with him as a customer without any complications. He’ll definitely be bothering you after this, anyways.

He pretty much watched you the entire time he waited for his food, eyeing you with a look of concern that did not belong on his usual expression. But you ignored him for your own betterment—you’d really just rather get through this rush hour of customers. And when his order number was finally called, he held the small bag with nuggets and his large soda with confusion. Oh, right. That food was probably bought for you.

You sent him a look and a head tilt that notioned ‘Just eat it’, and surprisingly, he got it. Ajax, with his pristine proper suit and blazer over his shoulder, sat down at a dirty barstool and ate his ten-piece chicken nuggets. He was still watching you, though; he glanced at you every few seconds while he was chewing. Minutes that felt so long passed, and you just hoped his lunch break would end soon so he could get back to his building.

“Hello again!” You almost jumped in place when you found him in front of you again, having finished his nuggets.

“Ajax,” you grumbled, trying to speak quietly. There was another customer coming to line up behind him. “I can’t talk during my shift.”

“Oh!” He looked at you in innocent surprise for a second, definitely not as depressed as earlier. “No, I was just gonna order.”

You wanted to die. “Didn’t you already…” Clearing your throat, you remembered there was another customer lined up behind him. Thank heavens the lunch rush was over already. Time to put on the customer service voice for him again. “What can I get for you?”

“A box of ten-piece chicken nuggets, please!” he smiled. “And a large soda!”

If you didn’t feel like killing him before, well you certainly did now. And guess what, he ate this order, too! Was he doing this out of spite now? Ordering nuggets and then eating them right in front of you? Because honestly, it was making you less hungry and more confused, if anything. This was definitely not what you expected—but then again, you fully anticipated he’d hold up the line just to talk to you. But no, suddenly he was a McDonald’s nugget fan?

The moment you get out of here, you’re going to twist his ear. Time passes again where you purposely avoid his gaze. So, so much time. Either his lunch break was just incredibly long, or time was just going so slow because he was here. You bet it was the latter.

And then, once again, you find him at the front of your line.

“Hello!” he smiled. He looks happy just to see you. “Can I get a ten-piece box of chicken nuggets?”

“And a large soda with that?” you asked, almost with a sigh.

He looks uneasy, standing to the tips of his toes for a moment. “No,” he drags out with hesitance. “Side of large fries, actually.”

Ooo, how different! It’s the most entertainment you could wish for in a day. And when you shoo him to the side this time, he has the biggest smile on his face. How unusual—in this situation, at least. Then when his order comes, he actually turns to leave this time. He walked to the glass doors with an innocent grin and a large McDonald’s bag in his hand, happily waving to you goodbye. Finally.

“You never told me you work at the McDonald’s right by me!”

He was there waiting for you when you walked out of your shift, packed up, ready to go home, and definitely smelling like grease. “Well aren’t you out early…” you sighed at him. “It’s only three in the afternoon.”

“I asked if I could leave so I could come see you sooner,” he frowned. Endearing, once again. And your heart may have skipped just a bit when he lifted up the last brown bag he bought. “I saved these for you. They’re not warm anymore but there’s fries, a soda, and fifteen nuggets… I, uh, couldn’t finish the second order.”

You nearly laughed out. “Why in the world did you order so much anyways?”

“So I could see you again,” he pouted.

He was still wearing his office attire, top button unfastened once again and blazer under his arm once you took the fast food bad again. You might’ve just had nuggets during your lunch break, and this food may be cold and soggy by now, but the thought of him buying it for you made it the best meal in the world. And, it was also the fact he left his own shift early just to see you. He could be nice at times; so nice, it almost comforted the fact he made you want to die earlier.

“You embarrassed me,” you tiredly sighed. The both of you were walking together to his car—how he knew you were dropped off here was beyond you.

“Sorry!” he sheepishly smiled. “I really didn’t think I’d see you there…” Which was understandable, sure, but did he really have to order that many McNuggets just to see you at the cashier stand? “But now that I know you work right next to me…”

“Ajax, no.”

“Oh come on!” He pouted with a considerably loud whine while the both of you crossed the street to his building. You figured he was likely parked behind it, wherever the employee parking was. It still felt a little weird to be in your McDonald’s uniform walking next to a big business building. “I get to see you every lunch break—doesn’t that sound so fun?”

“No not really.”

He groaned even louder again, slumping his shoulders as if he was not dressed like he was going to an office party right now. But then, in some sort of comforting silence, he aligned his arm over your shoulders. It was cute, honestly—how he would still do this despite the fact you smelled like pure grease right now ( and the fact you were trying to ignore the feeling of his arm muscles that were practically bursting through his sleeves ).

He eyed you a few times during this silent walk, watching as you stuffed your face with nuggets and fries. Holy God this tasted so good for some reason…?! You totally deserved this after your shift of rude customers and embarrassing moments—then your good friend Ajax brings you nuggets and fries right after. How romantic.

And speaking of your ‘friend’, he pulled you closer against him, arm practically swallowing your entire being over your shoulders. Not that you were complaining, though; you found his weird obsession with being near you all the time just a little bit cute. And besides, he drove you places, and he bought you chicken nuggets.

Who could not love a man that buys you chicken nuggets?

#childe x reader #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x you #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x gender neutral reader #childe x gender neutral reader

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