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rosedom · 2 months

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"you have invited CHILDE to a rematch . . . keep your dog on a leash

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!male!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!childe, puppy play, collar/leash/dog ears/tail plug, anal play, vaginal sex, riding to g-whiz pipeline, praise + dirty talk, creaming, creampie, alluded aftercare .

A/N : it's about time i continued this（；´д｀）ゞ

"is that correct, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to confirm."

"I thought you were bluffing."

You smile. "What makes you think that, puppy?"

Ajax swallows harshly; the movement of his Adam's apple is enthralling, a nervous up n' down that you follow with your eyes. It's not obstructed quite yet, but the leather in your hands begs to encircle his throat; so, too, does the strip of it that hangs and brushes against your feet.

"I just—" A pitiful whine bleeds into his words as he shakes his head, tilting it obediently back to allow you to clip the collar in place. You gently cup his neck in your hands, satiating that itch of yours.

You tease with a small, "You just?" even as he shifts from leg to leg, the tail-plug you've donned him with a heavy weight in his ass. The tail—a bright orange, the faux fur of it striking against his pale n' scarred skin—only accentuates the pretty headband on the crown of his head, one ear pointed up and one left floppy like a lil' puppydog.

He whines. "Stop teasing."

"'m not," you defend, albeit weakly for you know you've been caught, red-handed and hands-full of Ajax, releasing him to instead tilt his head up by his jaw and to fiddle with the clasp at the end of the leather strip. It's equal in color to the collar he already wears, and it clicks into place easily; you allow yourself to whistle at it. "Pretty puppy, all leashed up for me."

Of course, any retort or complaint from him falls short when you've got him fixed in your lap; Ajax's body trembles, foot to head, as he softly moans into your own throat. You can feel the cool metal of his dog tag brushing against your skin—just like the way the fur of his tail, still snug inside his ass and pressing against your cock where you're balls-deep in his cunt, tickles at your legs.

Deep and husky, small groans tumble from your throat with each rhythmic clench of his cunt, teased wide from your fingers, earlier, and now stretched to its limit with you buried inside. "Relax, puppy," you have to say, have to stroke his tense thighs with the broad palms of your hands to soothe him.

"I—mm—I can't, you're—" he hiccups, soft and low but keening. "You're too big."

You quietly laugh, but the movement of your torso jostles Ajax slightly and makes his grip across your shoulders tighten. "Sorry, sweet thing," you murmur, letting him relax into you with a bated sigh.

In apology, you run your fingers—feather-light—across the tops of his thighs, jumping from freckle to freckle, and kiss him on the top of his head, right between his pretty puppydog ears. The droopy one brushes your cheek in semblance of a kiss.

It's endearing—cute, even; or rather adorable, like a real puppy, the ones you see across every city—, the way he nuzzles into your throat. You think he'd purr if he could.

(Puppy, kitten: same fucking difference.)

"Pup," you murmur (because this is puppy-play, tonight), thrusting your hips up once, twice. He cries out at the pleasure, at the friction of your pelvis bumping against his sensitive cock.

But then you still, and you gently tug his head out of your throat by the soft n' worn leather leash. "Eyes on me, puppy," you murmur. "Let me see those pretty blues."

His eyes are half-lidded where they meet yours; they're dark and heady, the pupils blown wide. He whines, and his lashes flutter; but they do not close.

"Good boy." A deeper red erupts on his already-ruddy cheeks, spilling down to his neck and his upper chest. The collar is a tantalizing divide.

"Please, please," he whimpers—all fucking puppy-like and cute, and, oh, how you want to ruin him: ruin him, until his ears fall askew and all he can do is helplessly whine into you.

You hold him by his love-handles, the soft, strong fat a perfect fit in your palms, as you begin to gently move him in your lap. His hips roll—back and forth, gentling along like waves lapping against a shore—helped along by your hands; the whole while, you've got the leash held snug in your one hand, pressing against his side.

There is slack, in that leather. After all, the leash—the collar, too, and the tail and the ears—are all a ruse; they all serve a purpose, simply, in allowing Ajax to not only love but to be loved in turn.

He is, in all senses of the word, a puppydog: he's loyal to a fault, putting others—the Tsaritsa, his family, you—above himself. But in this, he is greedy—like you've got a treat dangling in front of his nose, just out of reach but so, so easily able to beg for. And, dog person or not, you're certainly an Ajax person.

After a while of the soft back n' forth, your thighs and cock slicking up more in his and your arousal's both—a mix of your pre—, you decide to up the ante, just a little.

"Hold on, puppy," you murmur, rather sudden. He has all of a second to hold on—hands scrabbling for the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging, grasping on like he's got thick, thumb-less paws—before you're pressing him back and down, belly-up on the mattress.

"Ah!" He yelps out loud, the switch of positions making the plug press further into him. Your cock slips out, but only for a moment; you easily right that wrong, sliding in all smooth and tender. You've got your knees pressed to either side of him, under him, his thighs open across yours and his hips tilted up.

"Ready?" you ask.

Ajax whimpers, and he nods.

"Good." With a parting kiss to his nose, you take tight hold of the leash—the handle of it fitting perfect in your fist—and lean back on your heels. He mewls when your cock drags out, and cries when you pull him back by a hand on his hip.

You're able to move him how you want him—all with one hand. It makes him dizzy, whimpering small, punched out noises with each thrust. "Oh, please!"

What's even better, is the saccharine way he can feel the plug rubbing against your cock, even through his flesh; he arches into you, testing the gentle give in the leash. You follow him, but the pull is a heavy weight; you do not choke him, but it keeps him right where you want him: looking down at where your cock meets his.

"Look at yourself, puppy," you groan out, bringing the leash down to your wrist as you press down into his lower stomach. Your other hand keeps him steady by his hip the whole while, forcing him to meet each thrust of your hips. "Your pretty cunt takes me so well."

He stares, transfixed, at the lewd picture, at the way his cunt is spread wide on you and accepting each bump, each bud against his g-spot.

You grin, devilish. "Look at this thick cock, too," you murmur, dragging your hand down—right through the thick curls at the apex of his thighs, trailing to his navel in a way you so desperately want to lick—to stroke him off. "I can feel it throbbing against me, hm?"

Ajax whines, at that. "I'm so hard for you—"

"All for me?" You gently rub at his cockhead, providing sweet friction against his most sensitive spot. His back arches, more whines spilling from his parted lips, and—and just like you wanted, his ears come askew. "Oh, 'Jax," you coo. "Your ears came off."

You start like you're going to right them, but to do so would mean to dislodge your thumb from his cock; he whines, shakes his head, small pleas and, "No, leave it, 'm so close," circling your ears.

You give him mercy, today. "Puppy's gonna make a mess for me?" you ask, light but groaning, soft moans of your own slipping past your restraint. He's clenching so perfectly around you, throbbing and wet, and his cock jerks against you in a way that sends your mind spinning.

"G'nna cum! Please, please," he starts to beg. "Please, can I cum? I've been—" he hiccups, "—so good for you, haven't I? Haven't I?" It's a testament to how far he's gone that he babbles so endlessly, each plea sending you closer and closer to your own edge.

"You've been perfect for me, puppy," you coo. "Such a good boy for me. G-go on then, cum all over my cock—I'll fill you up, just the way you like it. Gonna fill you up nice n' deep, make sure it all stays in you right where it belongs."

Rather suddenly, Ajax's thighs begin to jump anew, his cock pulsing heavy beneath your fingers—and just like that, he's gone. Pretty n' sticky white, thick and opaque, dribbles past your cock, the base surrounded in the starts of Ajax's release.

"Good boy, good puppy," you murmur, keeping your thrusts even and your thumb gentle against his cockhead. He cries and mewls and whines, ears completely gone now as he thrashes; all the while, the clench of his cunt sends you over your own edge, filling him just like you said you would. "My perfect boy."

You stay pressed deep into him as you move away your fingers from his cock, letting the leash fall from your other hand's tight grip. Little red imprints—hardly harsh, and surely soon to fade away—stay stuck in the freckled skin you leave behind.

"You did so good for me, sweetheart."

He laughs, breathless, whimpering slightly when he jostles your soft cock from its comfortable rest. With a sigh, you pull yourself from his warm, wet cunt, and you watch, enraptured, at the sticky white that clings to your cock, at your cum dripping from his messy hole.

Sweetly, you ask, "Still think I'm bluffing?" even while you tug at the plug in his ass, gentling it out and soothing his whine with a rub against his other hole. (You definitely don't do it to rub the mixture of your cums into his ass, too. Nope!)

He grumbles, once he relaxes into your touch, into the warm cloth you bring up to clean away the mess. "No," he says. "I'm sorry for doubting you."

But then, he grins. "But if doubting you gets this treatment, maybe I should do it more often."

Sly bastard.

oh my god;; i hope i did him justice. he's my good puppy o(*￣▽￣*)ブ also, unrelated: i'm gonna be updating my masterlist tmrrw c; expect more annoying spam on your timelines, i apologize . . .

19 FEB. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#i listened to “kiss from a rose” by seal while proofing this . . .#this song is so ajax-coded ><#sub childe #childe x reader #sub tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #puppy sub #sub genshin #genshin smut #trans smut #genshin x reader #top reader #amab reader #male reader

398 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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vynpng · 6 months

Text

♡ - whore

[sub childe x dom amab reader]

n | blood as lube (?) (it's mentioned like once) , rough sex, degradation, inflation kink, tummy bulge, whore childe (what's new 🥱), excessive (?) swearing, no condom used. mean reader 😈

read under cut !!

"m sorry! p-please, augh- I'm sorry!~"

Desperate sobs fell from Childe- who was currently under you, being pounded into at an inhumane pace, your cock so big he swore he could feel it in his stomach.

Despite all his pleading and begging, ultimately it fell upon deaf ears. Grabbing the ginger hair, you pulled harshly, as another sob escaped him.

"Shut up. You're not fucking sorry, you asked for this. Asked to be fucked from behind like a stupid whore."

Did he think you witnessing him flirting with fatui agents was going to go unpunished? It was probably his plan all along- to be utterly and entirely broken by you.

A delirious grin broke out across Childe's face- he loved when you fucked him with such fury, such jealously that there was no way he'd be able to walk for a week straight.

"Well? Don't ignore me now, tell me d-does it feel good, huh?"

A question you knew he was in no state to answer, not when his arms trembled as he attempted to keep himself upright, drawn out moans spewing from his lips.

Fuck.

It shouldn't even be humanely possible that you filled him up so well, that your cock was so big it caused a bulge in his stomach.

The primal urge to completely destroy him spurred you on, his begging sounding something akin to a prayer- a prayer you would never tire from hearing.

A garbled sound escaped from the man below you- something between a sob and a moan, as your palms pressed against his stomach as you ripped another orgasm out of him.

"Can you feel me?"

Drool dripped out of his mouth, adding to the mess that was already on the marbled floor- a mix of his blood and cum from the both of you.

Grabbing a handful of the ginger hair, bringing his ear to your mouth, you growled-

"I said, can you feel me, hm?"

As if to make your point, you pressed against the bulge even more harshly- eliciting a mewl from the ginger, as cum dripped out of his plump ass, red from the amount of times you had spanked it.

"So fuckin' nasty you are, making such a mess."

A broken laugh escaped Childe, quickly cut off as you thrusted into him again, a choked sob escaping him, tears staining his flushed face.

"Mmh, c-can feel you....feel, hah, you feel really good. F-fucking me like you hate me.."

The wet squelch of you fucking like animals in heat only seemed to turn Childe more even more, if his mantra of "m cumming! c-cumming!!" was anything to go by.

"Like? I do fucking hate you, stupid slut."

Sharply gasping, Childe's arms finally gave up on him as clear liquid sprayed out of his dick, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he collapsed to the floor, twitching as if electrocuted, as his senses were overcome with pleasure.

Staring down at the man your dick was lodged inside having possibly the biggest orgasm of his life due to you saying you hated him, there was only one thing you could say.

"Fuckin' manwhore."

#this lowk sucks mb #genshin smut #sub childe #childe x male reader #genshin x male reader #vyn.writes #tartaglia smut #tartaglia x male reader #ajax tartaglia #ajax smut #ajax x male reader #dom reader

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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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4jax4jax · 1 year

Text

Rebuffed

Sub Ajax Petropolus x Dom Reader

Summary: Denial is the greatest pleasure of life.

Warnings: 18+, aged up, M x F, strong orgasm denial, crying, vaginal sex, handjob, blowjob, choking, slapping, mild-bondage, lots of begging, use of the titles “ma’am” and “mommy”.

Word count: 2.6K

You knocked on Ajax’s door and waited for a few seconds before he opened it, looking down at you and a smile almost immediately appearing on his face.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“Hey Ajax, just wanted to come see you. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You pushed him back and shut the door behind you. You had been looking up at him with sultry eyes. He looked at you with a confused expression before finally breaking into a smile.

“I guess that's one way of saying hello.”

He chuckled lowly, mostly to himself, before speaking again.

“What brings you today?”

He seemed almost completely oblivious as to what you were insinuating. It was endearing.

“Just thought I’d stop by and say hello to my favorite person.”

You reached out your hand and placed it over his shoulder, pulling yourself closer to him.

He grins widely as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in closer. The contact made you sigh softly.

“You know me too well. Come in, let’s have some fun.”

“What kind of fun?”

You ask, sensing you both had completely different things in mind.

His grin widens even more.

“Well, how about we start with dinner? We can talk and catch up while we eat. Then afterwards, maybe we can go out for ice cream or something? Sounds good?”

You give a light sigh as if you were contemplating it. After a few seconds, you gave him a suggestive smile.

"I was thinking of a different kind of fun."

You began to push him back slowly and towards his bed. His eyes light up with excitement, and a glint of something else.

“Oh really? Tell me what you have in mind then.”

By the time you had spoken again, his knees were pressed against the edge of his bed frame. You stopped moving him back and instead just pushed him down by his shoulders so he was sitting. He smirked up at you in excitement and reached out to hold your hips in his large hands.

“For starters, I was thinking I could tie you to your bed and have my way with you, then from there on I decide how I want to use you.”

You reached out and traced his jawline with your fingers.

He gulped subtly before taking a small shuddering breath. He nodded and looked up at you with wide eyes, almost looking frightened.

“A-Alright, let’s do it.”

With an evil smile, you roughly laid him out against the plush cushions and blankets of his bed.

"Stay still."

You ordered with a stern voice. You turned around and opened his dresser and pulled out a roll of rope. As you had done all of this, he stared at you wide-eyed, obviously scared, but also aroused.

“Y-Yes ma'am.”

You walked back over to him and quickly straddled him, rope in between both your hands. You pulled his wrists towards your own body and began to tie them up.

He tried to move away from you, but you held onto him tightly and whispered in his ear.

“Don't worry love, I won't hurt you. Just relax and enjoy this.”

With that, you lean back away from his face and finish tying both of his wrists before securing them to his headboard and looking down at him.

“How do you feel, baby?"

Your voice was filled with true genuine care, wanting to use him however you pleased but also wanting to make sure he was comfortable.

He gulps nervously and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

“T-This isn't so bad...I guess..”

You leaned down and lifted his chin and began to kiss his neck, feeling him shiver and sigh.

He moans softly and closes his eyes, enjoying the sensation.

“Mmm..that feels amazing.”

You gently brought your hand up to his neck and lightly squeezed it, testing the feeling. He gasped slightly, then it had dissipated into a soft moan. He had been unable to contain the pleasure he was feeling, despite the feeling being foreign.

“Yes.. please don't stop.”

You cracked a small smile in amusement at his neediness so early on.

"You like it that much, hm?"

You questioned as you squeezed his throat harder and began to kiss him on his collarbones.

He trembles beneath you and whimpers, arching into your touch, practically begging for any stimulation, in any way he could get it.

“Yes.. please keep going..”

"Beg for it."

He looks up at you pleadingly, desperately wanting you to continue no matter what. He was slowly but surely getting to the point where he’d do anything to have you satisfy him.

“Please, let me feel all of this. Please.. Give me more.”

You smirk down at him and slap his cheek lightly, making sure not to hit him too hard yet.

"You can do better than that. Beg harder."

He blushes deeply, averting his gaze.

“P-Please, let me love you. Make me yours.”

You grab him by his jaw and slap him harder this time. The expression on your once smiling face had turned into one of anger. Your tone had dropped, and every word you spoke was laced with rage.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, Ajax, or you get nothing.”

His cheeks flush deeper with embarrassment as he meets your gaze, nodding slowly, not wishing to be scolded anymore, despite it burning a new flame inside of him.

“Y-Yes, Ma'am. Anything you want. I’m sorry..”

You smirk and lean down to lick his neck all the way up to his ear, before softly whispering into it.

"Good boy”

You finally lift your body up and grind onto him gently, teasing him. He groaned loudly, panting heavily as you teased him further, until eventually you gave in and allowed him to experience true bliss.

You sunk down onto his dick and squeezed his neck tightly. He cried out in pleasure and tried to move his hands to touch you, but the rope prohibited it.

“Please let me free Ma’am, I need to touch you..”

You lean down to kiss him, obliging only because you had missed the feeling of his warm hands all over your body. You leaned forward and untied his hands, watching as they immediately flew to grab onto your hips without permission.

You pull back and smile evilly before pulling your hand back and slapping him across the face. He yelped in surprise and stared at you wide eyed, trying to process what happened. Aside from the red mark that was slowly appearing, his face was already flushed and red from embarrassment and arousal.

“W-What was that for?”

You give him a smile out of fake pity and run your hand gently over the mark before leaning down and kissing the area.

"I'm sorry baby, just couldn't help it. You looked too good."

He smiles softly and nuzzles against your touch, clearly relieved that you didn't actually hurt him.

“Thank you, Ma'am. It felt amazing.”

His gratefulness for everything you did only fueled the narrative of how absolutely desperate he was for you always, and how much he truly adored you. You smiled and kissed him quickly on the lips before returning to grinding and riding him.

He moaned louder and started thrusting upwards, pushing himself closer and closer towards climax. His breathing stuttered and quickened and his eyes fluttered shut as he reached the peak of ecstasy. He threw his head back against his pillow and practically screamed out a moan.

You slow down your movements to a torturous pace, grinding your hips down against him and watching as he practically shrivels at the change in pace.

"You wanna cum, Baby?"

He nods vigorously, panting heavily from the intense exertion. His eyes opened wide and he looked at you with pleading eyes, wanting nothing more than for you to bring him to his orgasm.

“Yes, please.. Please let me cum.”

It would never be that easy, he always knew that.

"Beg for it then.”

You clenched around him as your body moved slowly. His breathing shuttered and his eyes involuntarily rolled to the back of his head, an intense shiver running all the way through his body.

His breath hitched and he looked pleadingly into your eyes, begging with every ounce of strength he had. His voice was whiny and breathless, he sounded so helpless, but not helpless enough.

“Please, Ma'am. I need this so badly..Please let me cum.”

You shook your head disapprovingly, making him whimper.

"You're not being convincing enough, try harder, then maybe I'll consider it."

He gulps audibly and closes his eyes, willing himself to obey your command.

“Ma’am...please let me cum. I'm begging you, please let me cum..”

You leaned down so your faces were practically touching, your lips barely grazing him as you spoke.

"Tell me how good you feel, baby."

He gasps loudly, trembling beneath you.

He takes a deep breath as he begins to tell you how amazing it feels, each word punctuated by an increasingly desperate plea.

“Please Mommy.. I can barely control myself anymore.. You feel so good.. Please, let me cum.”

"No. You’ll be a good boy and take what I give to you, and you will only cum when I tell you to, understood?"

You wrapped your hand around his throat once more, squeezing harder than before. He whimpered in fear, but nodded obediently.

“Y-Yes, ma'am. I understand, I'll do whatever you say. Just please let me cum soon.”

He was breathless, all of his energy being put into holding out for you to please you, he wanted nothing more than to be good for you.

You lifted yourself off of his dick and kneeled down, taking him into your mouth instead. You deepthroated him with ease and looked up at him for his reaction.

His entire body trembled with pleasure as you did so, and he could barely form words through the sheer intensity of it all. He moaned loudly, unable to contain his intense expression.

“Oh my god.. You’re incredible..Don't stop now, please.. don't stop.”

You took his dick out of your mouth and gently kissed the tip before teasingly running your tongue around the head. You looked up at him with a seductive look in your eyes.

He groaned softly, feeling like he was about to explode. His hips began thrusting involuntarily against your touch, desperately trying to reach completion through your control.

“Please, Mommy, please let me cum. I’ll do anything for you, please..”

He pleaded, sounding more desperate than ever. You began to use your hands to jerk him off quickly, taking him close to his climax before pulling away completely, torturing him and making sure he didn't cum.

He cried out in frustration, his body shaking from the pleasure that had been denied to him. His breathing became labored and he pleaded again as he pouted, more urgently and loudly this time.

“Please, Ma’am, Let me cum. I need it.”

"Tell me how badly you need it, baby."

Your fingernail circled around the head of his dick, teasingly slowing down when you reached the underside.

He moans louder than ever at that, begging you to let him cum. He was becoming hopeless. Tears begin streaming down his face as he begs you over and over.

“Mommy, I’m begging you please, please let me cum. I need you so badly it hurts.”

You smiled at the sight of his tears and leaned forward to lick them off of his face.

"I know baby, but you can't yet."

Your words were laced with venom, luring him in with false hope and crushing his faith.

He looked up at you with pleading eyes, desperate for release, desperate for you.

"Please, Mommy.”

He whispers, voice softer than ever.

“Let me cum."

You ignore him and wrap your lips around his tip, sucking harshly as you slowly rubbed his thighs with your soft hands. He gasps in surprise, not expecting such an intense sensation. His whole body shakes as he tries to hold back his orgasm, but it won't be enough for much longer.

He was exhausted from holding back for so long, but he wanted nothing more than to be good for you, and he’d sacrifice his own pleasure just to see you proud of him.

“Good boy.”

You sensed his immense struggle and knew he deserved praise. And as always, he was over the moon to hear you talk to him that way.

“Please don’t make me wait any longer, I can’t take it.”

"I'll make you wait as long as I want, and you'll listen to me, because you're nothing but a needy slut who wants nothing more than to cum for your mommy, isn’t that right?”

Despite his struggle, he grins widely, nodding eagerly. He could barely keep his eyes open at this point, looking so dazed and fucked out without cumming even once.

“Yes, Mommy. Anything for you. I'm yours forever, I belong to you.”

You wrap your free hand around his throat and squeeze, cutting off his airflow and watching as his eyes rolled back into his head.

"Beg for mercy then."

He cries out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, struggling against your grip. You can feel his pulse racing through his neck as he desperately searches for air, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Please, I’ll do anything for you, I love you more than anything, I’m yours to use and control no matter what, I worship you, I belong to you, please.”

You let go and smile at his pleas. Once you had let go of his neck you pushed his head to the side, as if you had just slapped him.

"That's more like it, if you want to cum, you must beg for it, like a good slut I know you can be."

He gulps, nodding quickly before taking a deep breath and letting out a shaky sigh of relief.

“Yes, Ma’am. Anything for you. Please, let me cum.”

"No."

You give him a fake sweet smile and straddle him once again, grinding yourself against him.

He whined in pleasure, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation that was building inside him. His hands reach up to grasp your hips, desperate for even more contact. The grip he had on you made you wonder if when he let go if there’d be a mold of his fingers.

“Please, Mommy... I can't take this anymore. Let me cum..”

You give into his pleas and lift yourself before moving so his dick is finally inside you. You sigh in pleasure and clench around him.

His body shudders as he feels your warm embrace enveloping him, his breathing becoming erratic. With one final thrust, he lets out an animalistic moan, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout his entire being.

You let out a breathy and loud moan as you felt his hips lift off the bed with such force that you were questioning just how strong he really was. He had been fucked so deep into you, you couldn’t possibly be any closer to him at this point.

His entire body shook and shuttered, not being able to contain himself after suppressing it for as long as he could. He was letting moan after moan spill out of his mouth, the torture he endured finally becoming worth it as he shot load after load into you.

“Thank you so much.. Oh my god, I love you so much..”

He all but whimpered out, sounding as pathetic and defeated as ever, just the way you liked it.

“You did so good for me, love.”

#ajax petropolus #ajax petropolus smut #ajax x reader #ajax petropolus x reader #ajax wednesday #sub ajax petropolus #ajax petropolus x you #sub ajax #wednesday

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rvels · 16 days

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SO WET F'ME? ➜

❥char-> Ajax x femreader (reader has a coin slot..)

❥warnings -> 「 fingering, cum play?, cum eating, degrading??, sub reader, dom char, use of ' daddy' , 'baby' and 'good girl' 😭 lmk if I missed any 」

"Your'e so wet f'me baby" He watches as your cunt coats his long fingers with your slick, he starts moving his fingers in and out making you moan loudly "this pussy is mine ya' got that?" He bit his lip at how you tighten around his fingers "How about I make you cum again? Is that fine w' you?" You nod your head so fast as soon as he said that "My good girl" he grinned while stroking your hair using his unoccupied hand "I— I'm so close daddy!" You whined, he was shocked when he heard the little nickname you called him, something hit inside him cause he sped up his movements making you moan and tighten around his fingers once again "cum for me, cum for daddy" he whispered to your ear making you paint his fingers white "of fuck- my good girl, such a slut for me aren't you? Pussy' so wet f'me" he pulled his fingers out of your wet cunt and licked his fingers "A—ajax mmh! Don't eat it, t-thats disgusting" He raised a brow at you "what? You do it all the time" he smirked palming his cock "now give me something in return"

a/n ➜ Hiii thx for reading I was literally gone for so longgg so here's a little treat if you liked this consider liking or reblogging ;)

#ajax #ajax x reader #childe smut #tartaglia #dom tartaglia #sub reader #dom character #smut #genshin imagines #genshin smut #genshin impact smut

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cryingisnecessaryfanfics · 1 year

Text

Tartaglia x reader nsfw 💦

fatui! reader,,, gender neutral until **** afab afterwards. might make an amab version tho. Not spell-checked or anything, this took me months to write lmao.

(this was written to satisfy my own blood kink, in no way am I implying this would happen irl or that I support this irl)

TW/CW: Wounds, blood, stitches, blood kink, pain kink, sadomasochism, dom/sub-themes, bottom(switch?) Tartaglia, blow/hand job, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, Childe cries, praise kink, sliiiiight degradation, overstim, use of the word pussy, uh reader cuts him >.>, multiple orgasms... I think that's it?

summary: Reader gets put with childe to babysit him and gets turned on when he gets hurt lmao. Then smut.

Words: 3,985

The bustling of Liyue harbor fades into the distance as you walk side by side with the 11th fatui harbinger, Tartaglia. Or Childe, as you were supposed to call him in public. The man wasn't like anything you’d heard about him. There was nothing cold or ruthless about him, and in the time you’d been accompanying him, he’d been nothing but gleeful and cheery. If anything at this point you were starting to think he was more of a nuisance than a threat.

Nonetheless, you continued to supervise this man-child of a harbinger, there was a promise of compensation waiting for you at the end of the two weeks you would be together and you’d be dammed if you’d give up a job like that.

But sometimes you really consider throwing it all out the window and decking that son of a bitch right in the face.

“Comrade~!” A blob of orange crosses in front of your vision and you roll your eyes before focusing on the face now inches from your own. “You’d better pay attention or you’ll walk right into that hoard of hilichurls.” He points to the left and you follow his hand over to a mob of hilichurls bunched together and dancing about.

“Oh.” Is all you say and he laughs.

“Are you feeling well, comrade? It seems like your head's not in the game.” He lifts an eyebrow at you and continues before you can respond. “Don’t worry, you can sit here and rest while I defeat them.”

“Yeah like you can take 20 hilichurls at once,” you respond with a roll of your eyes, “I’ll help you, dumbass.” And you start to pull your sword out from where it sits at your side.

But Childe stops you with a hand and speaks again. “I don’t like that you underestimate me, comrade. I’ll handle it and you watch so you can learn a thing or two about how to take on a large number of enemies.”

“Whatever,” You sigh, “just don’t come crying to me when you get trampled.” And with that, he smirks and runs over to the mob of enemies.

Watching him fight is interesting, to say the least. For one, instead of trying anything with that bow he carries about, he goes straight for his hydro daggers and starts slashing this and that like a madman. He takes down three hilichurls at once with one calculated slash and laughs manically as blood splatters his clothes.

His dry cleaning must suck, you think before focusing on his movements once again. The hilichurls start to circle around him and close in and he kicks one to the side before putting his daggers together. In the process, a brave hilichurl reaches out and slashes his torso with one of its claws. Childe yells out in pain and for a moment, perhaps only a second or two, you see his jaw tighten and a glaze pass over his eyes. You’re awestruck with the image of his pain written on his face still in your mind long after he pours elemental energy into his weapon and takes out the whole lot of enemies in one move.

His cry of pain replays in your mind again and before you realize it your eyes have widened and your face has gone red. Childe, now standing in the murder scene, starts to turn towards you and you rush to fix your face and calm your racing heart before he can see you ogling.

When you see his face again he’s panting and out of breath, a smug smile still there despite his exhaustion. Your eyebrows furrow as you lock your eyes on the gash in his side, trying your hardest to push out the desire that floods into your mind as you study its severity.

“Learn anything?” He says as walks towards you again, and you make sure to note the strain in his voice for… medical reasons, before responding.

“Yeah, how to get yourself hurt while being reckless.” And you take one of his arms to pull over your shoulder.

“Don’t- be a prick,” He says despite the little breath of pain he lets out in the middle. It goes straight to your stomach and you look away while walking back onto the path.

“Shut up.” You say and an awkward silence settles between the two of you. The only sound filling up the lack of words is Childe’s ragged and unsteady breathing, which not only makes your heartbeat quicken but also feeds into the growing lump in your throat.

It takes a while before anyone speaks again, and this time it’s when the medical practice is in sight.

“You don’t have to do this you know,” Childe speaks quietly, a little hiss falling from his mouth when you startle from his words. “I’ve had worse wounds.”

You roll your eyes, “trust me I’m holding back from dropping you on the ground and leaving you there. I, however, have a conscience that would be a bitch to handle if I left you to rot.”

He laughs at that, a rough and breathy sound you’d never heard from him before. Something that made your annoyance with him soften in the slightest bit. He breathes in as if he’s about to say something but a nurse gasps and runs over to take him from you before you can hear it.

By the time you see Childe again, he’s back to his usual self, you know because the nurse is flirting with him as she hands him off to you and he’s looking at her with his signature grin. She tells you to clean his wounds before and after bed before flashing Childe one more smile and retreating back into the clinic.

“She was nice,” You say sarcastically and start walking towards Childe’s expensive house.

“Not gonna help me walk this time?” Childe pouts and you send him a glare. He seems to get the message because he starts to ramble about something while you walk to his place.

Luckily the walk to his house is short and you make it there just as the sun starts to slip out of sight. When he lets you in you take off your shoes at the door and follow him through the house.

It’s a bit awkward watching him walk into his bedroom fully expecting you to follow, even more awkward when he pulls off his shirt and throws it onto the queen-sized bed.

“Wanna get the first aid kit, comrade?” He says, and you stare blankly at him. “It's in the bathroom through that door.” You nod and walk over to the door, pushing it open and flicking on the light.

The bathroom is as expensive looking as the rest of the house, a huge bathtub and a shower with glass doors sit on one side of the room. A toilet and sink on the other. You head over to the bathroom counter with expensive-looking marble and sort through the drawers until you find the first aid kit.

When you walk back into the bedroom Childe is sitting on the edge of his bed, unwrapping the bandages on his torso. You take a moment to study him, the way his arms and back are filled with all sorts of scars. It makes something click in your mind. Makes your stomach flip over and your grip tighten around the first aid kit in your hands.

“Going to stand there all day?” He doesn’t even look up as he speaks. His fingers, now gloveless, run over the bandages on his stomach, he pulls the last of them off and looks up at you with a quirked eyebrow.

You are pulled from your daze when his sapphire eyes meet yours. You blink once before averting your eyes and crossing the room to get to him. You sigh as you realize the awkward situation to come, only praying the man in front of you doesn’t notice the redness at the tips of your ears as you kneel before him.

The process is wordless, you don’t dare glance up at Childe’s face, nor does he remark about your flushed state. You open the first aid kit and take out the antiseptic wipes, holding your breath as you reach up to touch his stomach. The wound is long and red, stretching from one side of his chest all the way down to the waistline of his pants, where the very end disappears under his clothes. You work carefully around the stitches, trying not to pay too much attention to the way his muscles twitch when you get a little too close. You shift positions, placing one hand on his thigh to stabilize yourself. His leg flinches slightly in response causing your hand to slip against his wound.

“Sorry,” You say and instinctively look up at his face for signs of pain. He sucks in a breath and when you see his face your stomach drops. He’s red, biting his lip and blushing furiously under half-lidded eyes.

“It’s fine,” He mutters through his teeth and you gulp as a pang of desire goes straight through you.

“Tartaglia,” You murmur, the hand on his thigh subconsciously squeezing as your lust grows.

“Fuck,” he breathes and it’s nothing like anything you’d heard him say before. Your eyes dart down to the slight bulge in his pants and then back up as if you couldn’t look for too long.

You set down the wipe in your hand and bravely reach up to touch his neck. He looks at you again, wide-eyed, with a whisper of your name on his lips.

“Can I…?” You trail off, not sure of what you’re asking for before he nods and you’re pulling him down for a kiss. Your lips meet in a rush, unsure at first before Childe grows restless and deepens the kiss while taking your face in his hands and tilting his head. It sparks electricity within your stomach and you reciprocate with just as much need.

When your tongue brushes against his lips, he opens his mouth almost instantly, eagerly accepting your tongue as it tangles with his. While your mouths dance together, you let the hand at the back of Childe’s neck trail down to his chest and run your fingers over his skin. He groans into the kiss while you roam your way around his body, eventually finding what you had been looking for.

It only takes the slight brush of your thumb against the tie of one of his stitches for him to moan in pain. He breaks away from the kiss to sigh into your mouth, the kind of exhale that shakes and begs for another breath right after.

“Does my pain amuse you,” He says against your lips, delight in his voice despite the lack of smile on his face.

“It's not amusement,” You reply with a harsh swipe of your finger against his wound. You savor the way he cries out before finishing your response. “It’s lust.”

“Sadist,” He accuses with a grin and you smile back at him, your hand falling from his injury down to the desire pressing hard against his pants.

“Masochist,” You tease back, pushing your hand down gently on his crotch.

“Hah-“ His head falls to your shoulder, his hands clutching the fabric of your shirt. “I guess I’ve been found out.”

He pulls you into another desperate kiss before you can respond and you happily accept it. You push down on his crotch again and his hips buck into your hand. You hear him whine when you pull your hand away. His lips part from yours, his eyes lazily pleading with you to touch him again.

“Aw, look at that, you’ve pulled your stitches,” You coo and he hisses in pain when you gather the blood leaking from him on your finger. You’re entranced at the sight of his blood on your hand, the crimson liquid staining your skin.

“You look beautiful when you’re bleeding you know.” His eyes widen at your statement, following your hand as you reach for the spare dagger strapped to his thigh. You pull it from its sheath and tap it against his skin.

He breathes your name again, a hand coming down to touch himself.

“Ah-ah,” you tut, pressing the knife harder against him. “I’ll help you with that later. If you bleed for me.” He closes his eyes and furrows his brows as if debating whether he could wait that long.

“Fuck, fine, just hur-” you interrupt him with a pull of his dagger, watching his face contort as you drag it across his torso.

His breath catches and you savor the way it sounds while your eyes dart back down to watch the red liquid fill the shallow cut you had made.

“That's not so bad is it?” You give the wound a little kiss and he tenses under the touch of your lips, the feeling of your chest pressed against his desire making him restless.

“I- cant take it,” He pauses, “I need you so bad, god, please.”

You sigh and while you had wanted to draw more blood from him, the sound of his plead led you to comply. “When you ask like that how can I refuse?” You mumble, putting his knife back in its rightful place before making your hands busy on his belt.

His own hands fumble to help you while murmuring his thanks. When his belt is tossed to the side somewhere in his massive room, you unzip his pants and take his length out of its confinements. He moans when he feels your skin against his own, almost sobbing when you close your hand around him and roughly jerk upwards.

“So good, so so good.” He’s whispering as you start to find a satisfying rhythm. His hands fist the bed sheets and he starts to rock his hips with the pull of your hand.

“Ah- just like that,” He gasps out and you take the opportunity to overwhelm him. You lean towards him, kissing the tip of his member before opening your mouth and licking his slit.

He lets out the most elicit moan you’ve heard so far and opens his previously shut eyes to stare down at you. There’s a glaze over his eyes and he twitches at the sight of your mouth on him.

He breaks when you suck on his tip and his pleasure pours into your mouth in thick ropes. You don’t take the time to let it sit on your tongue before you’re swallowing and releasing him from your mouth with a pop. You move to stand in front of him, tilting his head to look up at you with his hazy blue eyes.

**** afab reader ****

“I helped you out so now you’re going to help me too, yeah?” You smirk as his eyes widen and then narrow again. “It's only fair after all.” You watch the haze leave his eyes and the desire pour in.

“Gladly.” He murmurs before slipping his hands under your shirt and sliding it up. It's stripped off you in seconds, his hands tracing your waist up your chest, and then down your shoulders. You shiver at the touch of his warm hands on your skin, the softness of his fingers, and the way he glides down your body like flowing water. You let out a shaky breath as he reaches the waistband of your pants, his fingertips slip under and all too quickly he's pulled them down and you’re entirely bare in a matter of seconds. He pulls you down to sit on his lap your privates just inches away from his.

You share a breath together for a moment gripping his shoulders as you settle into a new and heated position. Your thighs are pressed against Childe's, his chest pressed against yours. You're both bare and vulnerable, exposed for the other to see.

And then his fingers find their way to your clit, a small gasp escaping you as he starts to rub it in circles. It's sensitive at first but soon pleasure starts to rush up your stomach and down your legs.

“Did seeing me in pain make you this wet?” He teases and you have to choke back a moan when he gathers a bit of slick from your hole.

“Shut up and do what you’re told harbinger,” You mumble, hand coming up to grip the hair at the back of his head. But he just grins in response and slips one of his fingers into your heat. Your grip tightens with the sudden invasion sending a burst of pleasure down your thighs. A moan rips its way through your throat.

"Fuck- Tartaglia," you can't help but whisper as his finger curls inside you. Your head falls back, lips parting as you soak in the pleasure. He seems to hit all the right spots making your head spin and your vision blurry.

"Is this good enough for you sweetheart?" He says and you can't help but groan in annoyance.

"Don't- be a tease," your voice comes out shaky but you take the opportunity to tug his hair harshly.

He whines in response and another finger finds its way into your heat.

"Good boy." You praise and his fingers start to pick up the pace. You lean into his frame as the pressure building up in your stomach gets more intense.

"God, don't stop." You moan out, mind far too lost in the feeling of his fingers inside of you to care what you say. Your release is getting closer and closer as his fingers hit all the right spots. All it takes is the rub of his thumb against your clit and you're seeing stars.

Your thighs squeeze together and a chill runs through your whole body. Faintly, in the back of your mind, you're aware that you've clamped down on childe's fingers, which now struggle to move inside you.

When you're finally able to see straight you look at childe's blue eyes and lazily smile at him.

He grins back, "That feel good, baby?" He murmurs and you huff a little laugh in response.

"Better than good," you pant out and rest your head on his shoulder.

"God you looked so hot like that." He mumbles almost as if to himself. That's when you notice the pressure against your thigh and the fact that he's painfully hard again.

You place a hand on his chest and whisper, "Lay down, I want more." You don't fail to notice the way his lower part practically jumps at your words or the way he quietly groans at the thought.

Nonetheless, he grabs you by the hips and pulls you closer to him before he leans back as you had told him to do.

You grin at him while you straddle his hips and hover above him. Childe moans when your body makes contact with him, watching the way you slowly take him into yourself. When you finally bottom out Childe's hands fly to your hips, gripping them hard enough to leave bruises. He let out a sort of choked noise, his eyes closed and mouth open. He was truly the picture of sex, hair messy and cheeks flushed, his muscles all tensed with need.

"Don't move." He chokes out and it's raspy and strained, undeniably attractive. So much so your stomach drops and you clench around him.

The moan he lets out from your action is louder than any of his others. "Don't!" He cries and takes multiple deep breaths, trying his best to calm down and get used to the sensation of being inside of you.

"Awh is my pussy too much for this big strong harbinger?" You tease and he grits his teeth. "Relax baby, you can come as many times as you want inside me."

He just groans in response too lost in the bliss of you all around him, invading his senses.

Naturally, you long to see him completely fucked out and start to move despite his words. Slowly raising yourself up with your legs and dropping back down onto him, hitting just the right spot every time.

"Fuck, I- I'm gonna cum if you do that." He's barely able to think clearly as he rushes to say what he can.

"Go on then." You start to pick up your pace, "Fill me up real good, pretty boy." Your voice is strained by now, but the slap of your skin and the wet sounds that fill the room drown you out anyway. Besides, you both are a moaning mess, desperate to reach as many highs as you can take.

Just as he warned Childe reaches his climax quickly and he's so fucked out, he uses his strength to slam you down and hold you there while he pours all he's got into your pussy.

He cums hard, squeezing his eyes shut and arching his back while he digs his nails into your skin. The pain is a nice mix with the throbbing of your heat and the warmth flooding into your body.

You watch in awe as he rides it out, little tears and gasps escaping him when you move even slightly. You know he's done when his hands fall from your hips and he relaxes into the bed with newfound exhaustion.

"Don't tell me you're already spent?" You murmur, leaning forward to move his hair sticking to his forehead, his sapphire eyes blinking open and wincing with the shift of your hips.

"C'mon baby, I know you've got more in you." You whisper against his lips, eyes half-lidded staring into his, as you start to roll your hips.

He inhales sharply and his hands move to grip the bedsheets. "Too much, fuck, too much too much." He whines it out, his face contorting in pain.

"Awh does it hurt baby boy?" And you fake a little pout to hide the grin that threatens to spread on your face.

"Yes!" He chokes out between moans eyes brimming with tears. "More, hah, please."

You let go of the smile, sitting back up and roughly bouncing up and down on him.

It's painful at first to take him so roughly so suddenly but you push through it knowing pleasure was on the other side. And after the pain numbs the pleasure comes cascading over your body. It's overwhelming just how much floods your senses. The way your hips become desperate and wild, the way all your muscles tense in anticipation.

And then it all crashes. You cry out as you hit your high falling onto Childe's chest and clenching down on his length. Your vision goes white, and you gasp and gasp for air while your body trembles and shakes. And though you're too lost to notice, Childe cums right after you hugging you against him while you both come down from the high.

When you can finally breathe you manage to separate your body from his and fall to the side of him. Instantly relaxing into his expensive and comfortable bed.

You both lay there for a moment just breathing next to each other and processing what just happened.

"Holy shit." Is all Childe says, and the tension snaps, laughter falling from your lips despite your soreness. Childe soon joins you with his own soft chuckles, taking your hand in his.

The night ends in a fit of giggles and shaky legs as you clean up each other. Finally re-bandaging the wound that started it all, and the bonus one next to it.

You fall asleep on Childe's big comfy bed together, savoring the way he feels in your arms. (and the way his big ass bed is probably memory foam and so damn soft)

****

hope you enjoyed :3

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mothmanperson · 2 years

Text

||No more Tea||

??? x gn!reader

tw: /

cw: degrading, crying, sub character, dom reader, kind non consensual kissing, this one is angsty, yandere-themes, (let me know if i missed smth), spicy no smut(i don't feel comfortable writing smut yet)

part three of this(part one) and this(part two)

FEMALE ALIGNED DO NOT INTERACT (SHE/HER, SHE/THEY)

that's it. he thought to himself.

he was getting more and more frustrated with you, every time he went up to you with built up confidence, asking you to do something with him you just denied him, told him off, ignored him, as if you weren't just fooling around with him a few day ago.

and these past few days felt like pure torture since he could only think about the mark you left (that were definitely visible to the other harbingers), the hot aching touches you left and the sharp gaze he still felt, as if ingrained into his mind.

you have been more and more on his mind, taking over his every thought, every decision. he needed you more than anything else he ever thought he needed. and you? you were ignoring him.

you seriously had the audacity to act like that as if you hadn't consumed each others blood and cum.

and honestly he felt offended, embarrassed, and angry most of all. how dare you play with him like that.

this is it. he thought to himself as he marched over to your chamber, he didn't even bother knocking on the door.

he burst through taking a deep breath and preparing to scream and yell at you, get you to apologize, oh how'd he love to see you down on your knees: begging.

it was quiet, your bedroom was empty.

huh? were are you? its way to late for you tobe doing any work- were you on a mission? why hadn't he been informed?

questions rang through his mind as he looked around in your room, taking a few hesitant steps forward. he was never really in your bedroom. only in your office, but the only thing that separated the office from your room was a heavy wooden door.

maybe you were still in your office, even if it was late, harbingers were busy people after all..

the menacing door opened with a bit of struggle, but even the fire place that usually was burning a hot, worm fire was cold, no light shining through the comfortable place you called your office.

(he'd never say it but he appreciates your eye for comfort and decor)

his grip on the doorknob tightened just a bit as he closed the door in a hurry, to many fresh (and certainly hot and not entirely unpleasant) memories resurfaced.

he took a breath walking over to a desk infront of a big window, he couldn't see much outside, it was dark and a storm was raging against the building, the only source of light was the moon and one or another fatui agent cursed to patrol at this time of the day in such a weather. he almost felt bad.

almost.

his eyes fell onto the desk. your desk.

candles, paper and pen, a few unfinished sketches.

thats new, he didn't know you could draw, then again you didn't know anything about each other.

you just knew how to push his buttons. he didn't even know how to do that, again, something that really frustrated him since he praised himself on knowing jow to read people, get under their skin and on their nerves.

but not with you, never with you. you either ignored him or lazily waved him off.

everything you did just offended him, he realized in a second.

"well look who came crawling back"

lost in thought he didn't noticed someone coming into the room.

what a pathetic mistake.

his back crawls and a shiver went down his spine when he felt you cold breath on his neck.

"what are you doing here?" you asked. it was a genuine question at first, but your mind quickly wandered and you had a rising suspicion why he visited you at this time.

he bit his lip and clenched his eyes shut. what was he doing here again?

you came closer, his small back pressed against your bigger chest, and his clenching ass against your hips.

your hand gripped the table right besides his small body, your head right besides his. he felt your cold breath against his ears now.

he shivered, clenching his hands into fists he tried to collect his thoughts.

right. he wanted to blow up into your face.

"what are you doing to me?" he asked with all his might.

"mh?" you raised an eyebrow in question.

"why are you- ignoring me? you do all- all this to me and then dare to pretend not to notice me these past few days? am i- am i just a- a toy for you? i don't want you to play with me you-" he snapped, and raised his voice, gritting his teeth.

"wait you thought we- we had something? hah- you thought we-? oh archons- you thought i fancied you? that i did all that because i liked you?" you laughed into his ear, your arms finally encasing them in a deathly possessive brace as you put your lips against the scorching hot skin of his neck.

"darling no, even though i have to admit that your to pretty when you're looking all fucked out like that, and i'd rather not anyone else see you like that. i don't feel anything for you. i like the idea of you, and your body but nothing else" you smiled against his neck, planting a soft kiss.

"then why are you-"

"because I don't want you to be with someone else, it should always only be me- don't you get it? you are such a price to me- and only for me- no- no one else will ever get to have you, understand? you probably don't, a shame" you grinned menacingly as he turned his head to look at you, in shock and disbelief at his foolishness to think that anyone could ever love him.

but... at least you liked his body? he thought as he looked at your dead eyes with tears threatening to fall.

"are you going to cry now? show me your adorable red face as you try and hit me? scream at me? what will your pathetic self do, mh?" you asked as you tilted his chin up with your gloved hand. your lips were millimeters away from his.

he couldn't answer, he didn't trust his voice to carry on this conversation while you were looking at him like that.

"oh so you'll stay quiet? well fine, you'll have nothing against me doing this then right?"

you leaned in, feverishly claiming his lips, he parted his as if he was trained for it. he let you do whatever you wanted. he was fine with whatever you'd do.

you may not love him, but you liked his body, and he loved your attention to much to turn down this opportunity.

the more he thought about it, the more he favoured the thought of being at least a toy for you.

you shoved your tongue into his mouth and he moaned in delight, past anger completely forgotten already.

you hands sneaked their way under his thin shirt and caressed his hot skin, drawing circles and other patterns up his skin until they reach his sensitive pectorals.

you squeezed and played with them as you pleased, and he became more and more of a mess, his breathing and heart beat picked up and he kept moaning and whimpering as you purposely avoided his perky nipples.

he had to stabilize himself gripping the edge of the table infront of him, his knuckles turning white.

you were afraid he'd break it.

he broke the kiss and you took a look at him. his lips were red and swollen, covered in saliva, just slightly opened. his eyes were half-lidded and blinded with pure lust.

"please-"

"so needy already? do you want me to spoil you? do you want your master to take care of you?" your asked in false caring.

he quickly nodded desperately chasing after your lips but you pulled away.

"oh no how unfortunate then, take care of it yourself you slut- you can do that for me right?" you stepped away from him.

you had to be kidding, was this some kind of cruel joke?

"w-what? you- you can't just leave me here?! like- like this?" he shrieked out

"and why is that?"

"you- you just can't- just be- because i-"

"you what, mh?"

"i need you so fucking bad" he whispered out, yet he sounded so fucking desperate and pathetic.

you loved it.

you wanted more.

you needed more, and you'll get more.

you will make sure of it.

"then get on your knees and beg for it you pathetic little slut"

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angelsrcute · 12 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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archerdepartures116 · 1 year

Text

phat dragon (i love him sm)

#chonkli #i wanna pinch zhongli's cheeks #dragon sub from subway #liyuen speciality #zhongli genshin impact #childe genshin impact #tartagila #genshin impact fanart #genshin #zhongli #childe #rex lapis #childe tartaglia ajax #tartaglia genshin impact #tartali #zhongchi #tagging ships cause man does it give clout

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onirique-amaranth · 2 years

Text

⎮Why run away from the unknown?⎮

⏤ Characters: Tartaglia⎮reader

⏤ Including: nsfw (-17)

⏤ Warnings: sub/bottom Tartaglia, dom/top male reader, alcohol, size kink, overstimulation, urophilia, choking, dacryphilia

⏤ 3.700 words

How crazy would it be to wake up in an unknown world, wholly and utterly lost? With nothing that looked interesting near you and the most important thing, you were alone. You could not hear any voices, nobody shouting after someone else, none of those grandmas complaining about their sons and daughters, not even that damn annoying neighbour who would never understand what 'privacy' is. Just… Nothing.

You were just completely alone. The sound of the wind passing through leaves, surely the chirps of the birds were the only things reaching your ears, but nothing else. The silence was soothing you, making all the tension disappear as you sat down on the ground, looking up at the sky. Everything seemed so calm and quiet, for the first time in your life, you felt at peace.

Perhaps you would have fallen asleep, if it was not for someone shouting from afar, unfortunately breaking the calm bubble of solitude you were in. The voice sounding familiar, while the scenery was not, which was suspicious. As you sat up, your eyes widened, the person in front of you was more than familiar, a character from a game you play, mainly wearing red clothes and a headband, with some goggles. The Outrider, Amber from Genshin Impact. And if she was here, it means that you weren't far from Mondstadt.

You ponder for a while, unsure if it was a good idea to show up at Mondstadt, especially if you did not know what part of the story you were currently in. And while nodding your head to yourself, you stand up, dusting off your pants before walking in a random direction, opposed to the city, hoping you will be able to meet a camp and collect a weapon and some food. You knew you would not survive if you had nothing to defend yourself or any resources.

It took you more or less a week to get completely ready to move from this zone since you wanted to be prepared in case you encounter stronger enemies. You were lucky enough to walk by some merchants and bought a map, so you could understand where you were. The said merchants were sympathetic enough to tell you your current location, and give you something to drink for free.

Confidently, you head for Liyue, days passed before you managed to see the top of some Liyue Harbor's buildings. The city was truly magnificent, you were glad you arrived in the middle of the day, so the sun was high, and it made everything shine, temporarily blinding you.

As you stand there, at the entrance of the city, admiring the view, you completely ignore the people passing by you or the ones trying to talk to you. It's true that you were standing out, your foreigner features and your height catching most passers-by's attention. For now, except for Amber, you did not encounter any important character, and you were glad. Maybe it was for the best since you could say you basically knew the future, you could say something you weren't supposed to, and it was scaring you.

As you were going to walk away, acting as if you did not see the woman standing next to you trying to grab your attention, you felt like someone was staring at you intensely. Their gaze penetrates your body, sending a chill up your spine as if they were trying to kill you with their eyes only. Annoyed, you turn around, glaring at them but freeze on the spot when you notice who it was, it was difficult not to recognize him.

With the obvious messy orange hair and dull blue eyes meeting yours, it was clear who it was. Logically, you should act like nothing happened, just smile and leave, especially with someone as dangerous as him. But it would not be fun, and it was a dream anyway, what could happen?

And he was the one staring in the first place, it wasn't your fault. You were still staring at each other, neither of you looking away, his gaze becomes colder and colder, almost freezing you on the spot. Getting bored by this exchange, you could not help but smile at him sweetly, looking away to let your gaze observe him from head to toe, trying to fluster him. And as you finally meet his eyes again, you offer him a smirk before leaving, the unknown woman from earlier following you with doe eyes. As if you cared about her.

After finally finding somewhere to sleep, you decide to go to the nearest bar, you really needed to relax, this week has been hellish for you. It was surprising how long this dream was, but you did not mind, it should be over soon. This morning's encounter is still on your mind, but you doubt you will see him again anyway, so it was not significant. You were more focused on buying something to drink and spending the rest of your night here.

Unfortunately, you jinxed yourself, and you really need to stop doing that in the future… When you entered the bar, nothing was out of the ordinary except some people standing a bit too close to you. You ignored them and just ordered a drink, the sympathetic barman understood you weren't a client that wanted to discuss, and so, he just gave you your drink with a smile before leaving. As you enjoyed the liquor that was burning down your throat, impressed by the taste since it's something you never tried before, the chair beside you was drawn back. You were excepting one of those annoying people again, but when you turn around to glare at them, it was Tartaglia sitting there instead.

You heard someone complain behind him and as you throw a glance over his shoulder, you see a girl making a fuss over him, saying he stole her seat. You wait some minutes but when you understood that she wasn't going to calm down, you call the barman over with a single hand gesture, he understood that the girl was the problem here and drag her out of the bar. Tartaglia was ignoring her this entire time, just looking at you with those empty eyes of his, but you could perceive something in them that you were not able to identify yet. Surprisingly, you weren't feeling as threatened as this morning, but something still felt wrong with him.

You were observing him silently without a care for anything else, until you notice how he has not moved since then, and that's when you understood how long you have been staring at him like this without saying anything. Embarrassed by what you just did, you turn your head away and make a sign to the barman to serve you two drinks. Perhaps if you pay him something, he will take it and leave. You knew it would not happen, but you still had some hope. You had no idea how to behave without someone like this beside you, and you noticed how he hasn't relaxed his body until now, as if he was ready to jump on you.

When the barman came back with two glasses, you were going to pay for the drinks, thinking about finishing it in one go before leaving. But before you could move, Tartaglia beat you to it and handed the money to a very confused barman that just took it before walking away quickly. To say you were surprised was an understatement, he had no reason to do this, you were just a stranger that stared at him openly twice without any reason.

With a sigh, you just grab the glass, chucking it down immediately. But that was an awful idea. After your throat started to burn along with your tongue, you understood how strong the drink that you ordered was. You knew you could handle your alcohol quite well, but you had no idea if Tartaglia could, and that scared you.

Before you knew it, you were ordering drinks after drinks, either Tartaglia or you choosing what you were going to try next. After all, you were both some foreigners in this country, one being from Snezhnaya, and the other who came from an unknown world. After so much alcohol, you were more or less talking freely to each other, not caring about manners or the fact that you were strangers anymore. With Tartaglia being there, most people didn't dare step closer to you, which guaranteed you a peaceful night that you enjoyed to the fullest. Thankfully for you, even in your tipsy state, you remembered how you never ask his name, and so, never called him by it. For now, you did not make any mistake, guaranteeing your survival.

Turns out, Tartaglia was not better than any other person in this city. You noticed how he was slowly but surely moving closer, the eye contact became longer, the way his hand was inching closer to your thigh, and he even offered to show you around since it was the first time you stepped into Liyue Harbor. He was so out of character, the dull eyes turning brighter, with an abnormal glint in them. But who were you to refuse to spend some time with one of your favourite characters?

As you just finished your last drink in one go, you stand up with the man next to you, grabbing him as he stumbled a bit to the left, holding his arm until you were sure he could walk correctly. You paid before he could, offering him a victorious smirk before leaving the bar alone, bidding him goodbye.

Like you though, he followed you, sneaking behind you like a shadow. You keep acting oblivious to his strange behaviour, not wanting to put yourself in more danger than you already were. Did he really think you were that drunk to not notice him? Seems like you were good at faking being tipsy.

You let him follow you to the place you were staying at, unlocking the door before closing it behind you, not locking it again knowing it was useless. You purposely made more noises than you usually would, leaving your shoes in the middle of the corridor, and turning all lights off before slamming the door of your bedroom. You sit down on a chair in the living room without making noises, watching with apprehension the door, certain that he would try to enter your apartment.

And it seems like you were right because a minute later, you hear the handle make a creaking noise as it was moved down, the door opening silently. The quiet steps of the Harbinger filled the room as he headed to your bedroom directly as if he knew exactly where it was, the door creaking open as he continued to walk shortly after, and suddenly he went silent, as he surely stopped in front of your bed. As quietly as you could, you stand up, sneaking behind him, grabbing his neck, choking him. He barely had the time to react when you murmured into his ear 'knew it', before knocking him out.

You knew it would happen, you were behaving too suspiciously for him to ignore it. You were certain he was planning to kill you, perhaps thinking you were a spy. You had tied Tartaglia to the bed, waiting for him to wake up, as you choose to not tire yourself out for nothing, knowing it was useless to run away from him. He was not the type of man to give up anyway so, you were dead either way if you run away or if you stay there with him. A sudden grunt coming from the said man made you come back to reality. The only thing you said was, 'what were you trying to do?', watching as he has already come back to his senses, too quickly for a normal human.

As the man looks up at you, you were ready for a glacial death glare, showing off his murderous intent, but instead, you were met with a lustful look and reddening cheeks. So similar to the look he gave you this morning.

That's when it hit you, how badly you had mistaken his intention. But he still wasn't a good man, as he has still broken into your house after following you home, and he was clearly not having any innocent thoughts. As you get up to untie him, you kneel on the bed to reach the rope around his wrists, unintentionally placing your knee too close to him, as it rubs against his crotch, forcing a moan out of him.

You freeze and try to stop moving your knee while focusing on untying his left hand, you could feel how he started to grind his hips against your thigh himself, moans pouring out of his mouth. He picked up the pace, now fully humping your thigh like a cheap whore, his sounds becoming more frequent as his release was near. But just before he could cum, you move away, watching as he humped the air pathetically, chasing after your body. The pitiful whine he let out went straight to your cock, twitching inside your pants.

You can't help the smirk growing onto your face, watching how pitiful he was. This man purposely came here to get fucked, whether it was consensual on your part or not. And now, he was almost crying for attention as you ignored his needs.

Before Tartaglia knew it, he was on all fours on the bed, his hands, and forearm tied behind his back, forcing his shoulder back painfully. His head was pressed into the pillow by your hand, and breathing correctly became a challenge for him. He could sense your shadow loom over him, your free hand caressing his exposed back, nails leaving red marks behind. Chills go up his spine as you glide your fingers down his back slowly, touches as soft as a feather, and he gasps as his underwear is tugged down sudden. You let go of his head, so your big hands could spread his legs apart, the cold air hitting his ass as he tightens around nothing, legs shaking pitifully. Your laughter fills the room as he burns from embarrassment.

One of your fingers was pushing against his hole, the first phalange barely entering before drawing it back, teasing him. It leaves him to wiggle towards your fingers, trying to push them more into him. As he throws his hips back forcefully, you raise your hand before slamming it back down on his ass, his body jerking forward with the impact as you hear the loudest moan of the night. You could only watch with amused eyes as his body shivered under you, his sniffles reaching your ears as he stops moving, understanding your implied order. He was acting like a well-behaved boy so suddenly, and it made you even more excited. Roughly, you tug his hair back, exposing his crying face to you as you spank him one more time, listening to his loud moan.

The feeling in Tartaglia's stomach grew rapidly, the alcohol still into both your systems affecting your bodies and minds. He was getting light-headed and his mind slowly became blank. He needed more, just a bit more.

You lick the tears off his face, and you use this sweet act as a distraction, plunging your fingers fully into him without a warning. He cries out when he felt the long fat fingers loosening his hole, rubbing against his walls at an irregular pace. Almost cumming at the sudden pleasure. His face was stained with fresh tears as his head was resting against your shoulder, the warmth almost comforting him while you prepare him. But suddenly, you stopped moving your fingers, frustrating him to no end.

You ask yourself if he really deserved or wanted to be prepared, thinking about just slamming inside him right now. When you observe his face, you notice how his eyes rolled back almost as if he was going to pass out. You gently nuzzled your face into his neck, trying to bring him back before biting his neck harshly, breaking the skin as blood slid down his body. The pain sends an exquisite feeling from his neck to his back, his body trembling as his whines get louder, his face showing how much he was enjoying your torture. But before he could cum, you stop touching him once again, leaving his body to flop down uselessly on your bed, Tartaglia was unable to do anything but look up at you with shocked eyes.

You watch amused as he struggles to sit up, looking back at you, teary begging eyes asking you to help him, but you stay there, unmovingly. With a whimper, he crawls to you, hands resting on your shoulders as he tries to reach your face to kiss you. Your hands move to his thighs, lifting him up, placing him over your cock, the tip pressing against his hole. He felt loopy and high as you forced him down, the sweet pain coursing through his body as you stretched him out more than he thought possible.

His body has difficulty getting used to the sensation, as he feels you in his stomach, a bulge showing through his skin as he pushes against it with a shaky hand. It was becoming too much for his poor brain, as it stopped functioning when you bottomed out, balls slapping against his entrance. His tongue lolled out, drool falling onto your body. You help him sink back down, as he sits dumbly on top of you, unable to think about something else.

That's when you noticed how you never gave him your name, and after murmuring it lowly into his ear, you begin to move him up and down harshly. Instantly, he started to whimper your name… only at first, because after each thrust, he was getting louder and louder, nearly screaming at some point.

You thought he came as his hole tighten around you, but he only let some pitiful drops out of his tip. You could not help but mock him, watching as his tears doubled, and his face become redder, freckles standing out as his cheeks were burning, feeling ashamed to not even be able to handle some minutes with you. You slowly learned how his body was working, observing like a hawk his reactions and so, you pressed on a special spot with a smirk, watching him break on top of you.

Suddenly, you grabbed him, and threw him back onto the bed, he just had the time to push on his arms to be on all fours before you drill back into him. Your hand sneaks to his throat, choking him while pushing his head into the pillow, which was already covered in drool and tears. He felt so disgusting as his face was rubbed against his own fluids, humiliation send him spiralling. As you tighten your grip, completely cutting his air flow, his hips jerked up suddenly, the pain made him cum on the spot. Unfortunately, you keep going, ignoring his whines and forcing him to cum once again, the tip of his cock turning a strong shade of red under the stimulation.

You started to pity him and so, as the good person you were, you turn him on his back. You force his legs apart, speeding up your pace to bring yourself to your orgasm faster. He kept whimpering, throat too dry to scream or moan anymore, he could feel you move in his hole, forcing his insides to accept your cock deeper. As his stomach was exposed to your eyes, you could perceive the movement of your cock, as the bulge was even more noticeable than before.

Stomach burning up as you felt close too, you kept edging yourself since earlier, and it was starting to get to your head. Muscles roll under the skin as you chase after your release, using your last strength to go deeper, making Tartaglia cry and beg, overstimulated and losing his mind. You were thrusting harshly, repetitive movements turn into you railing him at an impressive speed. Tartaglia's head slammed back as his body trembled, the tension in his stomach too strong for him, and at the same instant, your own stomach tightens, and you cum, shouting your load deep into him.

Euphoria flows through your veins, your head spinning as you feel Tartaglia twitches one last time around you. But instead of cumming all over himself, he pissed, unable to hold it in. He was still conscious enough to understand what was happening, blushing from embarrassment, still crying and mumbling your name over and over. He could feel his belly bulging from your load, some of it leaking out of his hole and onto the bed.

As you let go of his body, he falls onto the bed, unconscious and limp, not having enough stamina to stay awake any longer. With a sigh, you decide to clean him up, changing into some of your clothes before tucking him into your bed, lying beside Tartaglia in silence, knowing he would leave before the sun goes up. For the second time of the night, you kissed him, thinking he was asleep, or you thought so.

Unsurprisingly, when you woke up, you were alone in your room, the cold bed beside you proved that he left a while ago. After cleaning and changing the sheets, you dressed up, leaving the apartment to discover the Liyue Harbor by yourself. But when you opened the door, he was standing there, waiting for you. Cheeks reddening and cute freckles stand out as he sees you, he grabs your forearm, dragging you away in silence. Unbeknown to you, a bright blue mark on the back of your neck lightened up whenever Tartaglia would touch you.

And from afar, a tall dark brown-haired man was glaring at the two of you. Your scent seemed familiar, bringing back a nice feeling he forgot a long time ago. His eyes became luminescent as his tail and horns appeared, his stomach turning as he feels lust take over the rest of his senses. With a smirk, he goes back to work, thinking about how he could prepare your encounter and have your attention on him, only him. He couldn't help but feel annoyed as the ginger managed to meet you before him. He needed to do something about that, especially when he could see this blue mark on your nape, tainting your body.

⏤ Thank you for reading! I wish you a great day.

⏤ here is my masterlist & ko-fi ⏤

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