Curate, connect, and discover
Ajax - Blog Posts
negative image
𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 tartaglia x m!reader — 3.8k words, not proofread, minors do not interact
TO NOTE: amab reader, reader is a dom at first then switches halfway through, reader is mentioned to be wearing lingerie, light feminization (childe says pussy once), use of good boy amongst other pet names, light degradation, praise (for both reader and childe), childe sucks reader's dick, childe also eats reader's ass, cockwarming (childe can't take it LMAO), no aftercare written but it is given, childe licks ur fingers to clean them, mating press, dirty talk. lmk if i missed any!
KAI SAYS: almost 4k words of pure smut haha but like omg i wrote this so late at night with my tip so pls spare me AND!!! this is my return post so...
Tartaglia knows you’re doing it on purpose now, because how can you not be? He whimpers, his cheeks flushing a rosy pink as he feels you clench around him. “Baby, please.” He whines out, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I-I can’t—baby, it’s been thirty minutes.” Thirty minutes he’d been buried to the hilt in you; his dick hard and twitching as it stuffes you full.
Tartaglia whines. He could faintly hear the sound of you taking a deep breath, but that’s not what he was focusing on. No, he was focusing more on the way you squeeze him as you inhale. It was on purpose, he knew you couldn’t just be faking this.
With a deep breath, doing his best to steel his nerves, Tartaglia pressed his thumbs into the joysticks of his console again. “I…” He murmurs softly into the skin of your neck. “I don’ think I can beat this level.”
“No.” You coo in that sickeningly sweet voice of yours. “You can.”
Tartaglia nods his head, your encouragement helping lift his mood somewhat. But, true to his word, he dies yet again. Tartaglia lets out a pathetic whine when he’s greeted with the ‘You Died!’ Screen for the nth time tonight. This bet was made specifically with his torture in mind. You knew he would never beat this level, so to “motivate” him, as you put it, you would sit nice and still on his sensitive cock until he beat it.
“Can’t you move just a little, please.” Tartaglia begs, his dignity long gone. You’re evil for this, he thinks, but all of that is lost when you shift your hips slightly, his mind going blank at just the smallest friction.
He feels his tip bump your prostate, and Tartaglia knows he’s hit it when you moan out, your mouth right by his ear as his fingers press harshly against the buttons of his game console. “P-please!” He whines again. “I-I need you t’move, just a little, just a little, please.”
“Maybe, if you last another thirty minutes, I’ll consider it.” You hum, and Archons Tartaglia thinks he's losing his mind with the way your breath trickles over his ear. “But, if you make it through the level…” Your voice trails off, but Tartaglia knows what you meant.
If he makes it through the level, Tartaglia could finally fuck you. Push you against the bed, wipe that stupid smirk off your face, maybe make you sit on his face until you cry. The options, at least to him, are endless.
You trail your hand over the neck of his shirt, and Tartaglia’s eyes dart from the screen to you. You, all dressed up in your white lace panties and thigh highs, with your chest arched against his chest and here he was, still fully clothed.
Well, only thanks to you.
You, like the cruel man you are, wouldn’t let Tartaglia strip. You’d forced him to watch as you changed, stripping off your pyjamas and slipping on the lace lingerie while he sat there, half sure he was drooling. And then you’d gone and pressed him to the edge of the bed, forcing him to sit as you pulled out his leaking dick, not even bothering to pull his sweats all the way down. Then you sat your pretty hole on his dick, and Tartaglia couldn’t pull his eyes away from the way your ass practically swallowed him whole.
And then, began this whole ordeal of pure torture.
You’re sat on his lap, facing Tartaglia as his arms wrap around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder as he looks over your body and behind you to the console gripped tightly in his hands.
Tartaglia’s eyes dart to you, and they widen as he watches you shift on his dick, your tip forcing its way over the hem of your panties, now drooling pre all over his shirt. Tartaglia squeezes his eyes shut. You press a kiss right under his ear and Tartaglia twitches inside you. You let out a lewd moan and he doesn’t think he can take it anymore.
Not another thirty minutes, or another five.
Tartaglia’s hands shake, and he’s forced to watch his in-game character die again. “Fuck…” He whispers, trying not to roll his hips into your heat. “I… You’re torturing me. Can’t take this.” He whines.
You shake your head. “C’mon, baby.” You coo, using the nickname Tartaglia always uses for you. It sounds almost mocking the way it slips from your pretty lips, but he doesn’t dwell on it. “You might wanna hurry up, or I’ll have to pull out my old dildo to help me…”
No! Tartaglia thinks, and he voices such thoughts with the aggressive shake of his head against you. I can do better than a stupid dildo!
“P-Please don’t.” he says weakly. “I’m trying, I’m trying.” Tartaglia starts to concentrate on his console once again, doing his best to ignore the squeeze of your ass and the warmth of your walls.
Your tip drools pre across his shirt, twitching gently against the fabric. Tartaglia’s mouth waters. He wants to taste you, wants to bury his face between your thighs and lick every drop up. It’s an indulgence he wants to become reality more than anything.
“Can I at least touch you, please?" he asks desperately, gaze not leaving your tip. Tartaglia wants to be closer to you, to have a hand on your soft skin, to play with your dick that was so close to the cumming. He’s ready to do anything in order to make you cum, to feel you pulse around his dick. He’s losing his mind, and the game was the least of his worries. Tartaglia wants you.
"Touch me before you finish the level, and there'll be consequences." You hum. "And trust me, if you think this is bad, just wait until you see what I have in mind." you press your lips gently against Tartaglia’s neck, trailing from his adam's apple to that sweet spot right under his ear. "I'm sure you'd deprive some sick form of enjoyment from that, though."
Tartaglia whimpers at the threat. He doesn’t know what would be worse: the current situation or the punishment you offer. Sick form of enjoyment… His mind echoes. He would most likely enjoy anything you gave him right now.
And like an answer to his prayers, you shift on his dick again. Tartaglia watches as your tip pokes above the fabric of your lace panties, even higher than before. The used-to-be white was now a dark grey with the way your pre had stained and wet through the fabric. Your panties were completely soaked through, the bulge from your dick covered in pre from your leaking tip, poking just above the hem.
Slowly, you tug your dick out of the panties, making sure to slather your fingers in your precum before pressing them against Tartaglia’s lips. "Clean them up." You whisper, and the sound of your voice almost makes him melt.
The instant your fingers press against his lips, Tartaglia is eagerly licking them into his mouth, his tongue swirling your digits around and coating them in his spit. He didn’t hesitate to continue sucking on your fingers, despite knowing they were already clean enough.
“Such an eager boy,” You murmur as you yank your fingers from Tartaglia's lips. There’s a string of drool that connects your hand to his pouty lips as he gives you another pleading look.
“Will you let me touch you now?” He begs, “Please, I’ve been so good for you!” Tartaglia licks his lips, savouring the faint taste of you. He wants more, he wants to grab you by the waist and bury his face between your thighs and suck you off until you’re nothing but a mess inside his mouth.
You bring your fingers back down to your dick, swiping them over your tip and harshly pressing them against Tartaglia’s mouth. “Suck.” You command in a harsh voice, completely ignoring his previous question.
Tartaglia’s lips go back around your fingers again. He doesn’t need to be told twice when you’re the one telling him. He easterly laps at your fingers, ignoring the drool that threatens to spill from the corner of his lips. You press your fingers down against his tongue and he chokes lightly, lifting his blue eyes to meet yours,
When you finally pull your fingers out of his mouth, Tartaglia buries his head into your neck about to ask to touch you again—only for you to beat him to it. “You get two minutes to touch me, but you can only use your hands.” You start. “And, we have to stay in this position. No pulling out or thrusting." You press a kiss against Tartaglia’s lips. "Think of it as... encouragement to finish the level faster."
Tartaglia nods happily at your words, pulling off your neck to get a better view of you. “Thank you—thank you, baby, needed this.” He slurs as his eyes rake down your exposed body before honing in on your sensitive cock. He wishes you’d let him lick that instead of your fingers, but you were clear on your rules for the two minutes.
Tartaglia has two minutes, a whole two minutes to make you feel good. There’s no way he’s let them go to waste.
He wastes no time when the game is finally paused. Tartaglia cups your balls gently, feeling the weight of them in his palm. He massages them slowly, his thumb rubbing up and down the underside of your dick, feeling the warmth and the leaking pre that slipps down your shaft. Tartaglia knows nothing can make you cum in this position, but he can make you squirm, he can tease you.
His other hand wanders up, his fingers ghosting over your skin, drawing circles around your nipples before pinching them gently. He wants to hear you moan, to see you writhe. Tartaglia needs to know he was pleasing you. He gazes at your face, waiting to see a reaction, anything to show that he’s making you feel good.
Your eyes roll back and your dick twitches hard against Tartaglia’s hand. “T-Tartaglia…!” You moan out, your back arching into his chest. Tartaglia’s fingers pull gently at you nipples, tweaking and twisting the nubs between his thumb and pointer finger. Your eyes roll back and Tartaglia whines at the sight, sliding his thumb faster up and down your dick, rolling it over your tip before sliding it against your slit.
He feels your hole clench around his dick, and Tartaglia has to squeeze his eyes shut in concentration to stop himself from bucking into you. He’s about to roll his hand again when it’s suddenly pushed away from your leaking dick. You yank his hands off your nipples too, panting as you do. “Two minutes have passed.” You mumble.
Tartaglia knows you were close from the way you sounded to the way you jerked your hips into his hand. “I’m sorry.” He whines, sounding like he’s carrying the weight of the world in his heart.
With a deep breath, Tartaglia focuses back on the game again, he hopes that this time he’ll finally beat the level. He’s determined, he wants to make you cum, to please you. He needs to win.
You slump against his shoulder, clearly needy. Tartaglia sucks in a breath. You were so close. He thinks. His focus turns back to the game, moving the joystick and pressing the rounded buttons as skillfully as he can manage with you taking his cock to the hilt,
Tartaglia feels you lean forward, your hands dipping under the hem of his shirt. “I wanna see you…” You whine and his face flushes. Tartaglia doesn’t have time to respond before the game console is slipping from his hands and you’re tugging his shirt off his figure.
Another eternity passes as Tartaglia picks up the console once again, doing his best to beat the level. He closes his eyes—just about to give up when the victory music blasts throughout the bedroom. “Finally—fuck, fuck, baby.” Tartaglia groans, tossing the console and pouncing on you.
His lips press against yours, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth. Tartaglia is kissing you harshly, his lips flush against yours as your tongue gently swirls with his.
He pulls away after a minute, both of your faces flushed and panting. “I-I’m sorry it took me so long.” Tartaglia apologizes. He wants to please you, make you cum, see you lose control just because of him. He was desperate to feel you squirm against him, he wants to see the way your face would twist in pleasure when he fucks you just right.
Tartaglia slowly pulls out, hissing as he leaves your comforting warmth and is met with the harsh, cold outside air.
“Let me take you, please…” He begs, his eyes filled with desire and the need to have you. Tartaglia wanted you—no, needed you. His hand wanders back to your dick, wrapping his palm around your shaft and quickly jerking you up and down at a messy pace.
Tartaglia would do anything to have you come undone on his dick.
“Uh-huh.” You whine, and Tartaglia thinks it’s cute how all your confidence diminishes the instant you're offered some dick.
He watches you twist your body to lay flat against the bed on your back. Slowly, your legs splay into the air before you pull them back and bend them at your knees. Your ass, all empty and clenching around nothing, is now fully exposed to Tartaglia. Your hole is stretched already, from the much too long of a time you spent just sitting on his dick. Your own cock lays across your tummy, twitching and drooling uselessly,
Tartaglia sucks in a breath at the sight of your hole. His dick is throbbing at the sight, pressing angrily against his tummy, so hard and needy. He wants to do nothing more than bury himself inside you, to feel your warm muscle clench around him once more.
Slowly, he lowers himself into a kneeling position right in front of you. Tartaglia dips his head to your ass, pressing light kisses across the curve of your thighs. He trails his mouth down to your dick, taking the tip into his mouth. His eyes roll back at the feeling of finally having you in his mouth. Tartaglia sucks harshly, bobbing his head up and down your length. He runs his tongue over the underside of your shaft.
Tartaglia swirls his tongue around your overly sensitive tip, watching and depriving pure enjoyment of the way your hips buck into his mouth messily. You throw an arm over your face, trying to muffle your breathless moans and flushed face. Tartaglia gives you a harsh suck for warning, letting you know that if you don’t remove your hand now, things would get worse.
You, of course, comply, pushing your hand to the sheets and clenching them in your fist.
Tartaglia hums happily, the vibrations travelling across your shaft. He feels you twitch in his mouth and your legs thrash beside his head, squeezing and pulsing by his ears as he goes faster, making sure to let the drool spill from his lips as he moves his head.
Tartaglia pushes his lips down to your base bringing a hand to fondle your balls gently and you whine, your back arching off the bed. Your hand goes to tangle itself into Tartaglia’s hair, pushing your dick deeper down his throat. “I—holy shit—I’m c-close!” You whine, and that was enough of a signal to pull off your dick.
Tartaglia smears kisses across your ass, ignoring your desperate whines and cries, before eventually leading to your puffy hole, all nice and stretched for him. He’s quick to bury his mouth against you, already feeling his brain go mushy at the feeling. His tongue slips into you easily, and you whine at the feeling.
Tartaglia fucks his tongue into you with great fervour, not even caring for his hard dick. All he can think about is the taste of you on his tongue, the way your hole clenches down so nicely against his mouth and those sweet, sweet moans of: “M-More, please, need you so bad!” That slip from your lips and get his hips rocking his dick into the side of the mattress.
Tartaglia’s tongue pushes and prods into you, again and again until he hears you moan loudly. His eyes dart up, barely able to catch the way your back arches. Your legs shake around him yet again, your thighs squeezing around his ears, which only drives him to thrust his tongue into you further. Drool slips down his chin, but he doesn’t care, all he wants is to taste you again, and again, because, fuck, if he died right here, between your thighs, he would die a happy man.
“Right there!” You cry, Your legs threatening to squeeze tightly on Tartaglia’s head. He pushes his tongue in again, thrusting it in and out of your hole with a scary precision, making sure he hits your prostate every time.
“O-Oh, my—fuck, can’t take it!” You whine and he smirks against your tightening hole. “I need you, please, please, please, pleasepleaseplease!” You’re a complete mess, babbling nonsense as he eats you out, eyes rolling back and legs shaking in ecstasy,
All it took was him shoving a finger in, curling it in time with his tongue, for you to cum. Tartaglia eagerly pulls off your ass, watching as your dick twitches against your tummy and ropes of cum shoot from your member. He waits until you're finished before pressing his face against the mess you just made and licking it clean.
Tartaglia looks up at you from his position against your belly. “I….” He whines. “I’m still hard.” He gives an apologetic smile before going back to his first position in front of the bed, this time standing up. He lifts your collapsed legs, throwing them over his shoulders as he slaps his cock beside your limp one.
As quickly as he can, Tartaglia grabs the bottle of lube from the nightstand and smears it all over his shaft. “Help me out, pretty boy.” He whines and you whimper at the nickname. Slowly, you push yourself onto your elbows just enough to push your hand to his dick and help him spread the lube.
Tartaglia doesn’t even bother to continue once you start, only throwing his head back with a loud groan. “That’s it, o-oh, archons you’re good at this.” His eyes squeeze shut and Tartaglia has to stop himself from cumming on the spot for the nth time tonight. He doesn’t even bother to lube your hole, only murmuring a sweet, “This pussies wet enough for me, right?” before he’s pressing a messy kiss to your neck.
“Not a pussy.” You slur, but he doesn't take any mind.
“D-Don’t worry, baby.” Tartaglia coos as he presses his thick tip against your weak hole. “Promise it’ll feel so good…” He wants to be inside you, to make you come again and again.
And suddenly, he’s halfway in, the thick of Tartaglia’s shaft being swallowed almost whole by your pretty ass was almost enough to make him cum right then and there. You whine lowly, back instinctively arching into him, forcing yourself deeper onto his dick.
“Fuck, baby, look what you do t’me.” He groans, pulling out so it’s just his tip stuck in your pretty, clenching hole. Tartaglia fucks his tip into you, watching it messily slide out then in, then out then in, over and over again until he can’t take it anymore and can’t help but want more.
Tartaglia—like the pathetic man he knows he is—can’t take it anymore. He pushes in fully, but just before he does, spits a large glob of drool from his lips to the tip of your spent cock watching it twitch under the feeling. He laughs, watching your dick twitch back to life. “And to think you get off to me spitting on you.” He murmurs, before finally thrusting in fully, in one, harsh movement.
The moan you let out is so pretty and high, and Tartaglia can feel his balls grow heavy at the sound. Your voice isn’t nearly as loud as the lewd squelch of his dick pressing in, in, in and against your prostate, his tip knocking easily at it.
Tartaglia pistons his hips into you, basking in the moans and pleas for “more, more, more!” that slipped from your pretty lips. He’s pounding into you, and Tartaglia watches your head fall back against the pillow. Your hands shake as you desperately reach out to grab onto the sheets for leverage as he pushes your legs up, leaning down onto your body as he forces you into a mating press.
And, oh, Tartaglia feels like he just slipped so much deeper into you, and with the way your walls squeeze and clench and you moan his name like a mantra—Tartaglia is sure he’s just died and reached heaven.
His thrusts start to lose their rhythm, but they still manage to fill you up so much that, before Tartaglia can process what’s happening, you're crying out, your ass clenching so tightly against him he thinks he sees stars.
“I—I’m close, ‘m so close!” You cry and Tartaglia can’t help but bury his face into your neck as he thrust into your ass.
“Me too, baby.” He whimpers out. Tartaglia reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his much larger ones, before letting out a loud moan. “Together, please, baby, cum together.”
And you’re eagerly nodding your head, a mix of “yes” and “please” leaving your lips. Tartaglia isn’t even pulling out anymore, just knocking his hips against yours—no rhythm or pattern, just instinct as he squeezes his eyes shut.
“Cummin’ o-oh—fuck!” You whine and Tartaglia instantly does too, feeling the way your dick spurts thick ropes of white onto your chest and his only drives him to the edge. He buries himself as deep as he can before collapsing onto you, pressing his full weight onto his hips. Tartaglia shoots a thick load of his seed into your awaiting hole, whining in content as he feels you milk his cock, squeezing down on him.
You’re panting, laying on the bed with Tartaglia pressed on top of you. His arms snake around your waist, tugging and twisting your connected bodies so that he’s spooning you, his chin resting on top of you’re head.
After a minute of rest, Tartaglia’s arms squeeze around your waist. “Love you, so much.” He murmurs tiredly.
“Promise?” You giggle back, despite the feeling of your exhaustion weighing heavy on your eyelids.
“Always an’ forever.” Tartaglia whispers sweetly. His arms encircle your waist, pulling you closer as the two of you bask in the afterglow in each other’s arms. “I’ll love you, always and forever.”
© KISSENTURINE. do not translate, plagiarize, edit, or repost
A Farmer, a Chef, an Actress, and a Mechanic decide to live together.
Four random souls find themselves in the world of Teyvat, and decide that suffering for something as stupid as the plot was not worth it.
Raiden Mikoto | Ajax | Furina de Fontaine | Mary-Ann Guillotin
Other Parts to be added...
Mikoto had no idea how she got here.
One moment she was running away from her shitty father. Well, fake father would be precise. That's right, all those manhwa fake daughter and real daughter tropes were real. Then when she got on the road, a truck suddenly slammed into her, and she died.
No seven minutes of best memory. No seeing her loved ones.
Just death.
The next thing she sees is purple eyes, violet hair, and a sword in her hand. "What the fuck?" were her first words, much to the surprise of her creator and her bitchy fox wife.
She discovers she's the Raiden Shogun. Not Raiden Ei, but the puppet itself. As her creator activates her protocols and retreats to her realm, and the pink fox leaves with a small scoff, Mikoto begins to plan.
She knows she couldn't leave now, that would be unwise. She would have to wait until the Traveler came and the Inazuma Arc was completed. It would take a long time, but patience had its perks after all.
She waited, and waited, and waited some more. Untill the day of the 100tn Vision was obtained, and she saw familiar blonde hair and the pixie from the moon. "Finally." She said out loud, and ignored the questioning look on the Travelers face and dragged them to meet Ei.
Unfortunately, Mikoto had forgotten about Story Quests, and found herself fighting her creator over something she honestly didn't care about. Eternity? Fuck that shit. Staying stuck in the past was one of the worst things to do. It was better to move on and leave all the pain and trauma one had behind. It was better to grow and learn from the past so you wouldn't have to suffer in the future.
That was something Mikoto believed, but the beliefs and protocols shoved down her body refused to listen, and so her body fought and fought until she lost.
Weeks later, Mikoto woke up in a body that wasn't her own. Well, that wasn't her creator's. Her creator had made her a new body, and she nervously stared at Mikoto. "I hope. . . .that you can find the true meaning in your life, without me pushing down my own beliefs. You are now free to go."
Mikoto continued to stare at her, ignoring the way the Traveler sighed with exhaustion next to her. "You suck at this. No wonder big brother hates you."
An Anemo Vision hung on her hip as she stepped on a boat heading to Liyue, her now shoulder length hair swaying in the wind as she gave Inazuma a final middle finger.
Fuck everyone else, she was going to Liyue to become a farmer archons damm it.
A little silly idea I had a while back. Hope you all enjoy!!
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑻𝑶𝑩𝑬𝑹 ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
—༉‧₊˚. “ Whatcha watching? ”
featuring. Childe from Genshin impact MAU | kink. peeking
synopsis. You were heading toward your friend childes dorm room to give him some college hw he missed out on in one of your early morning lectures. When you go to his place however he doesnt respond leaving you no choice but to let yourself in.
authors note. I think I hate this one…but that may just be me…
You knock on Childe's apartment door, waiting to drop off his college homework. After minutes later of no answer, you reached out for the door handle to find out the door was unlocked. Since the two of you knew each other for a while you thought it wouldn’t be that much of an invasion of privacy letting yourself in his apartment without him knowing.
Opening the door, you step inside and head towards his bedroom. As you approached, you heared moans coming from some type of device.
Peeking around the corner of the halfway opened bedroom door, your eyes widen as you saw Childe sitting on his bed, pants around his ankles, stroking his hard cock while watching porn.
The video plays on repeat, showing a girl who looks exactly like you in a skimpy outfit, moaning and pleasuring herself. Childe's eyes are glued to the screen, completely absorbed in the lewd scene. His hand moving rhythmically along his shaft, squeezing and stroking it with increasing intensity.
You watch him for a few moments, mesmerized by his focused expression, the way his muscles flex with each movement. How his orange hair falls messily over his forehead, and how his blue eyes shine with lust as he continues to touch himself.
Noticing your presence, Childe jumped, startled. His face flushed red with embarrassment as he quickly closes the laptop. He scrambles to pull up his sweatpants, trying to hide his still-hard member.
“[Y/N!] What are you doing here? I didn't hear you come in...”
He stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in such a compromising position. His blue eyes dart around nervously, unable to meet your gaze.
“It's not what it looks like, I swear! I was just...uh...researching for a project...”
As he spoke, you noticed a wet spot forming on the front of his pants, betraying his obvious arousal. The sight made you feel all warm and you find yourself getting turned on by what you just saw.
You decide to play along with his story, not wanting to make him feel too uncomfortable.
“Oh, research? That's interesting. What kind of project could possibly require that kind of research…”
You asked with a playful smirk, watching as Childe squirmed under your scrutiny. His cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red, as he fidgets with his hands.
Childe shifts uncomfortably, avoiding your gaze as he tries to come up with a believable excuse. He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair, messing it further.
“W-well, you know how I've been working on that short story for my creative writing class? I was just trying to get some, uh, inspiration for a particularly steamy scene...”
He trailed off, his voice wavering slightly. His eyes flicker towards you briefly before darting away again, as if he's afraid to look at you directly.
You raise an eyebrow, amused by his state. A mischievous idea began to form in your mind, and you decide to have a little more fun with the situation.
“Oh, I see. Well, since you're in need of inspiration, maybe I could help you out. After all, I am your muse, aren't I?”
You take a step closer to him, your voice taking on a teasing lilt. Childe's eyes widen, and he swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly in his throat.
“Y-you? My muse? What..makes you think that?”
Despite his words, you notice his gaze lingering on your curves, taking in the way your clothing hugged your figure in just the right ways.
“Come on, Childe. You know Im not dumb..”
“If you have a thing for me just say it already.”
You reach out and trail a finger along his jawline, feeling the heat of his skin. Childe shudders at your touch, his breath hitching in his throat.
“I... .. fuck.”
Encouraged by his reaction, you press closer to him, your breasts brushing against his chest.
Childe's breath became faster now, his pupils dilating with desire. He seemed to be fighting against his own urges, torn between his shame and his growing need for release.
“What's wrong with a little harmless fun? I promise, it'll be just like in the porno you were watching earlier.”
You let your hand slide down his chest, tracing the contours of his abs through his shirt. Childe's muscles tense under your touch, and a low groan escaped his lips.
“We shouldn't...”
But even as he protests, his body betrayed him. His erection strained against his pants, making it so he can no longer hide his arousal. You can see the internal struggle playing out on his face, as he grapples with his desires and his sense of propriety.
Sensing his weakness, you decide to push him further. You lean in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper.
“Don't you want to know what it feels like? It’ll help tons..with your ‘research’ ”
You nipped gently at his earlobe, Childe shudders, a soft gasp escaping his lips. His hands come to rest on your hips, and you can feel the tension in his body slowly dissipating as he gives in.
“ God, [Y/N]... I want you so bad...”
He finally admits, his voice thick with lust. You smile triumphantly, knowing that you've broken through his defenses. You pull back slightly, your eyes locking with his as you both acknowledge the raging desire between you.
“Then why don't you show me what you've learned from all that research? I'm sure you can teach me a thing or two...”
With that, you press your lips against his in a passionate kiss, your tongue delving into his mouth to taste him fully. Childe responded eagerly, his hands roaming over your body as he explores every curve.
You break the kiss, panting heavily, and start to undo the buttons of your shirt. Childe's eyes widen as more and more skin is revealed to him, and he licks his lips in anticipation.
“You're so beautiful.”
His voice is filled with awe and desire, and it sends a thrill through your body. You finish unbuttoning your shirt and let it fall to the floor, leaving you in just your bra and skirt.
Childe leans in, his lips trailing hot kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of your breasts. He reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts from their confines. He groans appreciatively at the sight, his eyes dark with lust.
“Touch me, Childe...”
You guide his hands to your breasts, encouraging him to explore and caress them. Childe doesn't need any more encouragement, and he begins to knead and squeeze your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.
As he continues to worship your breasts, you reach down and start to lower his pants, freeing his rock-hard erection. You wrap your hand around it, stroking him slowly as he groans in pleasure.
“Oh god, [Y/N]... That feels amazing...”
He thrusts into your hand, his hips moving in time with your strokes. You can feel the heat emanating from his member, and it only fuels your own desire.
*You release him from your grip and push him back onto the bed. Straddling him, you grind your hips against his, feeling his hard length pressing against your clothed sex. Childe's hands grip your hips, helping you move against him.
The friction between your bodies builds as you grind against Childe, your clothed sex rubbing against his hard length. Moans of pleasure escape both of your lips as the sensations become more intense.
“Fuck, [Y/N]... You feel so good... I need to be inside you.”
His voice is rough with desire, and you can feel his hips bucking up against you, seeking more contact. You reach down and unzip your skirt, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you in just your lacy panties.
Childe's eyes widen as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze focused on the damp patch on your underwear. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and tugs them aside, exposing your wet folds to his hungry gaze.
You position yourself over him, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. Slowly, you sink down onto him, inch by inch, until he's fully sheathed inside you.
A deep moan tears from your throat as you feel him stretching you, filling you completely. Childe grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he fights the urge to thrust up into you.
“Oh fuck, [Y/N]... You're so tight... So perfect...”
He starts to move beneath you, his hips rising to meet your downward motions. The rhythm building between you, growing more intense with each passing second.
You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as you ride him harder. Your breasts bounce with each movement, and Childe reaches up to cup them, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples once more.
The combination of sensations is almost too much to bear, and you feel your climax building deep within you. Your inner walls start to flutter around Childe's cock, and he moans in response.
“I'm going to cum, Childe... Don't stop...”
Your words spur him on, and he thrusts up into you harder, faster, his own release approaching. With a final, powerful thrust, you both reach your peaks, crying out.
As your orgasm crashes over you, your body trembles with the force of it. Wave after wave of pleasure washes through you, and you cling to Childe, your nails digging into his chest as you ride out your climax.
Childe's grip on your hips tightens, and his body goes rigid beneath you. With a guttural moan, he releases inside you, his hot seed filling you up. The feeling of his essence pulsing within you sends another shockwave of pleasure through your body, prolonging your orgasm.
For several long moments, you both remain still. Finally, Childe loosens his grip on your hips, and you collapse onto his chest, both of you panting heavily.
You giggle softly, nuzzling into his neck. Childe wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he catches his breath.
“Round two?” Childe joked suppressing a laugh.
© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.
I am sad.
Not because something sad happened.
It's just... I really like platonic!chiscara, but you can find close to nothing of it. There should be a special tag for it.
I don't hate people who like romantic!chiscara, I just don't like those (cof cof horny) ones..
Anyhows, that's all. Sorry for rambling.
Oh man its been a while since i did shipping fanart
Ajax: No, Thena. You are way too dangerous without Gilgamesh, to take care of you.
Thena: Dangerous? Me? How so?
Ajax: I don't know does the disappearance of Atlantis rings a bell with you?
Thena: Oh come on, it was an accident!
Ajax: The leaning tower of Pisa?
Thena: I didn't see it.
Ajax: The area 51.
Thena:Oh, yeah. Okay I did go too far there.. But I was drunk.
Gilgamesh: Great point of view love.
Sersi: I might be in trouble.
Thena: Yes, Sersi you can come in.
Sersi: I can't believe she showed up to my dorm.
Thena: it's not like I'm doing anything in here..
Sersi: She can't show up like this, we just had a talk about daiting..
Thena: I really have a lot of work to do Sersi...
Sersi: So you don't wanna heard how Ajax showed in the middle of the night, while I was enjoying a post-coitus shower with fellow eternal Ikaris.
Thena: Ok sit. So you were in the shower with ew Ikaris. Poor thing.
Sersi: That's where you feel sorry for me? Ajax saw us.
Thena: Gilgamesh says " I'm sorry queen, wanna cake?"
Sersi: You told Gilgamesh!
Thena: Yeah... Was it wrong? You don't want the cake?
*In the early 2000's*
Phastos *filiming Ajax*: Mother are you homophobic?
Ajax: Number one you're gay.
Phastos*cracking up*
Ajax*pointing at Sprite*: Number two I have a non binary kid.
Phastos*cracking up more*
Ajax: Number three I watch Rupal's drag race, how can I be homophobic Phastos?!
Phastos:Isn't there no way we can get rid of him?
Ajax: No without a cause Phastos, beside we talked about this...
Phastos:I have causes, it is be-cause I hate him.
Ajax: Why is Ikaris crying on his room?
Sersi: Oh, he's drunk.
Ajax:And?
Sersi: He heard from Druig, that I'm married.
Phastos: But he's your husband...
Sersi*sighs*:Yeah..
Kingo: Why does she look like that?
Sprite*facedown on the floor*: Like what?
Kingo: Like you're dead.
Sprite: Because I'm dead.
Ajax*writing something in her notepad*: Ikaris made public his relationship with Sersie, making out with her in public.
Ajax* calling to check out on them*: So how it been, is Thena distracted enough?
Gligamesh: Oh, yeah...
Ajax:What are you not telling me Gligamesh?
Gligamesh:Well, uhm... we need to change of location, she tried to set on fire the white house because of Trump, but in total accident i swear.
Ajax: Oh....
encounter in the abyss
mr. tartaglia
warm sunny day
just a child escaping the abyss
🚗 fatui roadtrip 🚗
here's the ref hahaha
Aight. So they:
and literally ALL I could think of was:
Then I got heavily inspired by @pricklyalpaca cause she:
So I just HAD to doodle THIS:
Hopefully, whatever bs rift will inevitably be put between these sweethearts in season 2 won't be too tedious... part of me is hoping they cover interracial relationships since it was kiiiiiiinda hinted at but I guess we'll just have to wait and see!
Ajax: Alrighty man, I didn't actually dodge your knife but see when i get to these motherfuckers and show them.
Keegan in front of ajax's grave died due to federation soldier's knife
Keegan: And you still fucking missed.
