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#sub!childe
sh1-n0bu · 6 months
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𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!
day 4: pegging with childe from genshin impact
warnings: pegging, affirmation of consent, slight masochism, hair pulling, oral, degrading, mistress kink, reader is fem!!! or afab!!!!! anyways reader doesn’t have a cock!!!!!
notes: masochist childe canon🥰
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it was just supposed to be a kiss. a single little peck. a quick little smooch. but that little peck turned into a few pecks. a few more kisses. until it developed into a messy kiss of tongues and salivas.
before you both knew it, you were already stripping each other of each other’s clothes. the fabrics making a quiet rustling sounds as they hit the floor of the bedroom. during the make out session, childe pulled away for a moment with a finger held up in a silent plea to wait. nodding, you let him lean over the bed, his hand pulling out a box from under the bed.
oh. oh, so that’s what he had in mind.
the ginger pulls out a dildo, one that is eerily similar in size to his own cock alongside a strap. he looked eager when showing them to you.
“i thought of this when i was reading a book about bdsm! i got the dildo made in my own size and… i kinda want you to fuck me with it” he trailed off with a nervous giggle, blush rising to his freckled cheeks as he explains himself.
“why were you reading a book about bdsm in the first place, darling?” you giggle, taking the fake replica of his own cock. whoever or whatever place he went to, they did an amazing job at making a copy of your boyfriend’s cock. they even added a few little small detail such as the vein that bulges right under the head of his cock when he gets hard.
“just wanted to try out a few things with you, dear!” your fox of a boyfriend chirps with a smile, watching as you work to put the dildo into the strap. his breath hitches in his throat when he sees you secure the strap-on, feeling a lump in his throat and a hot swelling in his stomach.
archons, he never really realized just how big he was. he never paid attention to it. but now here he was, watching and waiting with a perverted anticipation as he watches you click on the last strap around your thigh.
when you grin at him with a knowing look and curl your finger, asking him to come over to him, the harbinger wastes no time. getting out of the bed, he waits patiently on the rug covered floor on his knees until you get comfortable on the edge of the bed. when you spread your legs and tilt your head, that’s the green light for childe.
“thank you, mistress” slips out of his lips as he places kisses on the head of the fake cock. kissing all around the dildo before opening his mouth slightly, sticking out his cute pink tongue before taking the head of the cock into his mouth. he starts slow and little.
light sucking before trying to take in more of the cock. he gags and chokes around the dildo, sucking and whining around the toy until finally, he manages to put all of the toy inside his throat.
fuck, you could already just cum from watching that. there was a cute bulge in his throat, looking up at you with a hazy blue eyes, batting his lashes as he hollows his cheek. he was treating the fake cock like a real thing. almost worshipping the thing as he pulls back to place a kiss to the slit before taking it back into his mouth.
once he deems the toy was wet enough from his saliva, he pulls away before getting on the bed on all fours. wiggling his hips enticingly, childe waits with an excited giggle as you get comfortable behind him.
“color?” you ask, teasing him with the tip pressed against his puckering hole. he just wanted you to ram the whole toy inside already.
“green” childe moans, barely holding himself up as his knees shake and tremble as you slowly push the fake cock inside. ah, just the tip was enough to push him down to lay on the bed with his face against the pillow.
the stretch was so sudden without any proper preparation beforehand. it was big, he was big, his mistress’ cock was big! but archons, it felt so good. it felt so good when you slowly pushed and pushed until the entire dildo was inside him. it stretched his hole so good, a burning and stinging feeling inside him.
“aaannnhh~ so biiiggg… my mistress’ cock is so big♡︎♡︎” childe moans loudly, one of his hand traveling down to rest over the small bulge in his stomach. oh archons, he was gonna cum from just that feeling alone.
fuck, this sight was absolutely enticing to see. his cute pink hole was taking the dildo so well. deep inside himself, stretching his hole out as the slight fat of his adorable freckled ass jiggles every time his knees quiver. and not to mention childe was moaning so loudly, rambling on and on like a whore about how big you were, how you were his mistress , how his mistress’ cock was splitting him open.
“naughty boy… you love having your tight hole fucked open like this? you like it when a replica of your own cock splits you open hmm?” you hum, a hand traveling up to yank his head away from the pillow where his face was mushed into. that created a beautiful arch as the harbinger under you moans, delirious words tumbling out of his mouth as you slowly thrust the toy in and out.
if celestia is what this feels like, childe will surely ask you to do this more with him. fuck him open on the cock. he will surely buy dildos that are bugger and longer than this one so he can feel more of this addicting feeling of being fucked stupid on a fake cock. he loved the feeling so much. and the way you would call him mean names as you tug on his hair, forcing him to buck his hips back to meet your thrusts had him whining and whimpering in a high-pitched voice.
he could briefly hear you call him a slut in his pleasure hazed mind. without even realizing, he tightens around the toy, making it harder for you to keep thrusting the toy in and out of him. but it was alright. just a single harsh tug to his locks and he would let out a squeal.
“mistress! my mistress—shit! f-feels so good… maaahhg♡︎! mistress’ cock… feelsh sshoo gooddd♡︎♡︎” childe blabbers on, drool slipping down his chin as he weakly bucks himself back to meet your thrusts. but he suddenly lets out a loud sob when the toy hits something inside him, making his cock spurt out cum on the bed without you having to touch him.
“found it…” you grin, letting go of his hair and instead gripping his slim waist in a bruising grip. thrusting the fake cock back inside him, angling your thrusts to hit his prostate whenever you would fuck the toy back inside his puckering hole, you can see childe’s thighs shake and tremble as his sobs get louder.
just a few more thrusts and calling him your “good slut” had him keening as he cums all over the bed again. untouched. slowing your hips, you rub your palm over his back soothingly.
“you okay, my sweets? doing alright?” you ask, leaning down to hear his muffled words better.
“y-yesshhh… unngh feels so fucking good..” childe drawls out his words from where his face was pressed against the pillows, legs still shaking and hips twitching.
“mind if we go another round?”
“yes please! fuck me again, mistress♡︎”
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brayneworms · 10 months
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shoot it up (straight to the heart).
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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.
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"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.
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ilovemychunkycat · 10 months
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augghhhhhh sub childe
I NEVER SEE SUB CHILDE.
him laying on his back looking at you with puppy eyes while you deny him of cumming
"Ma'am! Pleaseee! I can't mmgh- take it!"
"Cmon Childe, your a harbinger! You can take it hun."
hes whining like a dog for food, sijfsjjf golden retriever boy
and when you finally let him cum hes holding onto you for dear life chanting thank yous and yes's like a mantra
"thankyouthankyouthankyou! yes ngh! yesyesyes!"
"You did a good job~"
Childe does not even hear you, like at all, hes too tired, poor boy :(
yet you don't care!
imagine just like... putting a chained collar onto him and yanking the collar to force him to eat you out
"Mistress! I cant-"
"Who said you could talk?"
"M sorry miss- I-"
"Shh. Don't start whining now." You yank the collar and posistion his head infront of your glistening cunt.
And he gleefully lapped up your folds dry as the cute little puppy he is!! awww
He definitely would be into suffocating.. like you suffocating him with ur thighs he'd be rolling his eyes back and having the time of his life.
"You did so well f'me, good boy."
good boy? might as well treat you like his master
after that hes worshipping you like no tomorrow <3
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erubescentz · 1 year
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⊹ ☆ Childe x reader - ‘Pain’ ☆ ⊹
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Summery: after you accidentally kick Childe while sparring, things gets a little spicy
Cw: masochist!childe, dom!reader, sub!childe, slapping, nipple play, handjob, cock slapping
Word count: 1.5k
A/n: I did not proofread this lol
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The sparring sessions between you and Childe were not uncommon, as his desire to fight and your need for some sort of emotional release proved to make you two surprisingly good sparring partners, not to mention you and Childe were relatively evenly matched when it came to physical fighting. 
But something about today's match was different. Today you were especially angry, an ugly mix of some unresolved personal affairs and Childe’s witty mouth was beginning to chip away at your self-control. Not that either of you held back during your matches, but you and Childe had an unspoken rule to never actually seriously hurt each other. But as the match drew out, you were finding it increasingly more difficult to not just kick Childe full force into his stupid little face. And that's what you did. It took you a second to register that you had just round-house kicked Childe right in the face he adored so much, but when you did you went to make sure Childe was alright.
“Shit sorry man, I didn't think it would actually hit you” you apologise to the pouting Childe who is now crouched on the ground, rubbing his cheek. He quickly dropped the sulking kid act and bounced right up, ignoring the pain in his right cheek that would definitely lead to a bruise.
“Ehe it’s fine really, don’t worry, though I must say that was an impressive kick” he said, sounding too excited for someone who was just kicked in the face. 
You both quickly got back to the match, neither of you wanting to dwell on the injury, but as you continued to spar you couldn't help but notice something odd about Childe. For some reason, it seemed his reaction time had slowed, and his movements became more and more predictable. Normally you would just attribute the lack of focus to the fact you had just kicked him only a few minutes prior, but this was Childe, you had seen this man get stabbed and provide fight perfectly fine before.
Due to Childe's decline in attention, it didn't take long for you to swiftly pin him down to the floor, winning the match. You released his wrists from the tight hold you had on them, and as you were about to interrogate him about his strange behaviour, you felt something poking your ass. And of course, looking down to see what it was, you were greeted with Childe’s hard-on. 
“Well, I guess I lost” Childe said, obviously trying to quickly change the subject. But of course, you would not let that slide.
“Oh? What's this? I always knew you were some sort of messed up but I would have never guessed that you would be a masochist” you teased, and when he didn't respond to your comment, you continued. “So that's why you seemed distracted during the latter half of the fight, I was scared I had given you some sort of brain injury, turns out your just a whore” you said in a mocking tone. 
When he still didn't respond, instead looking off to the side while blushing, you harshly grabbed his jaw and jerked his head to look you in the eyes. “Come on, tell me the truth, do you like it when I hurt you?” you said, hoping to get a response from him, instead he just nodded his head while adverting his gaze once again.
“Use your words.” And at your command, he finally spoke. “S-shit, yeah I like it when you hurt me, s-so much” he groaned at the tight grip you had on his jaw. Finally gaining admission from him, you took it as permission to keep going. Letting go of his face you softly caress the spot where you had previously kicked him, and he subtly leaned his face in closer to your hand. As he relished in the soft and caring touch of your hand it suddenly disappeared, only to come back, not as a soft caress, but as a sharp slap across his cheek. Any guilt you may have had around slapping Childe quickly disappeared as you heard the high-pitched moan that left Childe’s mouth as you slapped him.
Grabbing his face once again you pull him into a harsh kiss. Shocked only for a second Childe began to kiss back desperately, trying to savour the feeling of your mouth against his. Amused by Childe’s desperate nature you begin to slowly rock your hips against his bulge, not only to see his reaction but to also soothe the growing ache between your legs. He begins to whine into your mouth causing a string of drool to escape the corner of his mouth, and you take it upon yourself to pull back from the kiss and strike him in the side of the face once more.
At the harsh slap, Childe’s soft whimpers erupt into a full-fledged moan, bucking his hips up into yours. As much as you love teasing Childe, you start to feel a bit impatient, you wanted to just ruin him already. Reaching down to the hem of his shirt, Childe eagerly raises his arms so you can rid of his shirt. Now that his shirt finally gone, you waste no time leaning down and capturing his nipple in your mouth, using your hand to play with his other one. He leans his chest into your mouth only to jerk back as you bit down and pinch his nipples but despite the way his body instinctively moves away from the pain he still moans out like a whore each time you harshly pinch and bite his nipples.
Moving away from his nipples you kiss down his torso until you reach his pants. Unbuckling his pants he lifts up his hips encouraging you to completely undress him, and so you slid down both his pants and underwear at once, his hard cock slapping onto his abdomen with a thud.
If you would've asked Childe if he would enjoy having his cock slapped only hours prior, he would've cringed at the mear thought of someone hitting such a sensitive place, but as you wrapped your hand around his length only to give it a harsh slap, Childe couldn't deny the mix of pleasure and pain felt incredibly good. After slapping it you wrapped your hand around his cock once again, but this time you showed some mercy as you finally began to jerk him off. And Childe began to lose his mind. Your hand felt so good and the after tingle of all the slaps and pinches was heightening the intense pleasure.
“A-ahh shit, that f-feels so good, don't stop” he practically whined as you pumped him at a hard but steady pace, enjoying the sounds he was making. As you continue to jerk him off he brings his hand to grip your forearm, squeezing it hard trying desperately to ground himself, but he made sure not to squeeze too hard to where you couldn't move the hand that was making him feel so good. It excited you to see tears forming at the corners of his eyes from the intense pleasure but you decided to break your silence to make sure he was doing ok.
“Mhh you're being such a good boy, you feeling good huh?, It's not too much, is it?” you coo, and he doesn't hesitate to reply.
“Yes! yesyes I'm feeling r-real good, not too much just -aah keep going im close” he moaned out, tears now freely flowing down the sides of his face. You keep going until feel his legs start to shake, and at just the last second before his orgasm, you pull your hand away. Feeling his orgasm be ripped away from him he practically sobs, but just as he opens his mouth to complain he nearly screams as you once again give a harsh slap to his cock. The slap sent him over the edge as he cums all over his stomach, hips bucking in the air as he practically sobs, he doesn't even think about how embarrassed he is going to be once he comes down from his high. And luckily he won't have to feel that embarrassment for now as he quickly falls asleep on the floor after coming down.
You can't help but laugh at the fact that the once cocky Childe was now asleep on the floor of the training room, completely naked and covered in his own cum. And a part of you wants to just leave him there for someone else to find, but luckily for him, you do have enough empathy to clean him and clothe him before you leave him passed out on the floor. 
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tteokbin · 2 years
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☆ tartaglia -> sub!tartaglia x dom!gn!reader
content -> blowjobs, reader has a dick
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really just thinking abt seemingly innocent reader and childe..
your both in the same group of friends and one of them decides to pay for drinks to celebrate college shit and whatnot. he’s been eyeing you since you’ve all sat at the table, running his foot up your leg while your friends chatter and laugh about god knows what.
when everyone’s drunk and on the dance floor he scoots over to where you sit alone and presses himself up against your side. his breath is hot against your ear and him leaning so close does nothing to shield his perky chest in that low cut v neck top he’s got on.
childe talks you up a bit, asks if you’ve got someone waiting at home and if you’ll be busy after. your cheeks are hot and your ears burn but you still stutter out answers to his questions. he’s grinning that amused smile, the one where he can’t stop cooing at your cuteness as he asks to go back to his place.
arriving there he’s already got you laid on his bed; him in your lap and his tongue down your throat. places your hands on his ass, enticing you to squeeze as he lets out a slutty moan into your mouth. kisses down your neck a few times and slides down to his knees while unbuckling your pants.
he practically drools upon seeing your awaiting bulge. dragging your dick outside it’s confines just to see the fat uncut dick awaiting his tongue. he’s suprised, its obvious with the way he looks up just to see you staring right back at him with nothing but pure lust. cocky grin plastered right on your face after you lick your lips.
you pressing his hung mouth closer to your cock takes him out of his shock. he blinks before pushing forward and taking all that he can into his hot mouth. hollowed cheeks move up and down, wet tongue sliding along the veins of your hard cock. your hand fists his ginger head, pushing him down to meet your pelvis.
he holds there for a few seconds, fully immersed in taking your full length into the back of his throat. wanting so desperately to gag on the fat fucking dick of his dreams until he has to come back up for air. gurgling sounds get louder and more frequent as he proceeds to fuck you into his throat himself, nose occasionally burying into the tuft of hair at the base. his restricted moans vibrate up your spine, the pleasure becomes too much to handle.
looking down to watch him choke on your cock elicited a throaty groan out of you, slick plump lips quite literally sucking the soul out of you. hearing his whines only turns you on even more, the tight coil in your stomach seconds away from snapping. as if he read your mind childe speeds up his bobbing further, sucking harder and fondling your heavy balls.
his watery eyes trying to hold contact while struggling to stop themselves from rolling back inevitably pushed you over the edge.you hold his head snug against your hips, burying your cock down his throat as you cum a fat load into his mouth. childe swears he could cum untouched just from the sound of your growls but he holds back for what’s to come.
he swallows and licks his lips, pulling his head up and heads straight for your lips. he moans hotly into your mouth, quickly throwing his pants off and making home in your lap already pumping your spent dick back to fullness. you’ve got one hand on his ass and the other helping his hips along your thigh.
“want to sit on this fat dick don’t you baby?” childe nods dumbly in agreement, hanging onto your every word. you share one last kiss before lifting him to line your tip with his awaiting hole.
“don’t worry m’ gonna fuck you real good.”
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photo creds: link
a/n: i really suggest you read this small manga book it’s so cute!! this fic was inspired by their karaoke scene. the art style is gorgeous and it’s just a cute relationship they have and omgee i literally fell in love with the characters anyway i’m rambling
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bar-cafe · 2 years
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Il dottore is a menace to society jk, nah but for real imagine traveling around teyvat with the traveller until you unfortunately heard how infamous Il dottore is, you bid traveller adieu as now you have other plans on how to possibly help the traveller into finding their lost sibling.
You first manipulated the very first harbinger you had come across, Childe you made him so obedient to youre calls that he's aching to that of a dog, when he finally breaks into youre hold you finally got introduced to Il Dottore, fuck he was hot but that doesn't excuse his actions.
You started off slowly being subtle with him when Childe was away, youre patience wasnt long enough for him childe was easy to break but it looks like you have to break the doctor harder.
Oh dear poor dottore doesn't even register how in deep shit he is, you subtly made hypnotic comments into his ears slowly molding him and breaking him, until you finally got him wrapped around youre twisted plot.
You made him a whore, someone who needed you to live, and when childe came back to Dottore tied up naked with a leaking red cock laying on one of his experiment table with you sitting just near inches away from him, you smirk at childe and order him to fuck his tied up comrade as a reward.
He wasnt one to disobey you now, his clothes already discarded pumping his dick looking at Il Dottore like a predator.
"oh and Childe dont use lube" you smirk in triumph as you saw him nod, you practically heard a scream like moan coming from Dottore and an animalistic grunt from childe.
Before long both youre little toys were fucking each other, on the floor, the table anywhere really until both of them were covered in cum and hickeys, laying at youre feet trembling, you grabbed both their cheeks and kisses them as a little reward for being obedient, before both of them promptly passed out.
"Traveller will surely be overjoyed once they find out I got two spies and helpers in the Fatui" you chuckle to yourself.
Now the Harbingers noticed how weird childe and Il Dottore are, always side by side in every Fatui meeting, always talking and always disappearing at random intervals, they wouldn't know that both men have already betrayed them all and were reduced to broken sluts by you.
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uplatterme · 2 years
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could i request a hardom!fem reader for sub!childe with pee desperation?
a/n: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I GOT BUSY
see the fun thing about childe is that he’s charismatic, and the he’ll do anything to maintain the view of how everyone who looks up to him sees him.
“hey, isn’t that master childe?”
“right? i heard he just came from a tough mission! must be why he looks so worn off today…poor thing, shivering like that…”
childe wasn’t deaf, though he wished he was. it was that obvious, huh?
he tried to calm his nerves down, fidgeting with his scarf as he entered the tsaritsa’s room. while her domineering appearance was one to fear, he was more scared of the one right next to her.
you.
“welcome back, i see you’ve also completed your mission perfectly this time. way faster than the given timeframe too. were you in a hurry to return home?” you teased, he knew that he was given a harder task this time because you were the one who assigned him to that specifically.
“e-everything’s well! i just wanted to inform your majesty.” he spoke, bowing at her.
“ajax!”
your loud yell sent a shiver to him, he couldn’t hold it anymore. yet, he tried his best to give you a smile.
“yes, (name)?”
“you know our protocol. kneel before the tsaritsa.”
he let out an irritated noise. protocol, his ass. you never once cared about that. you were just trying to get him to crouch, making more unnecessary movements just to provoke him.
he would stumble if he wouldn’t do it quickly.
he kneeled before you and tsaritsa. “i apologize for my misbehavior.”
“rise.”
the fatui left as fast as possible. you were cruel, oh so cruel, you really didn’t care for his reputation did you? what if he were to do that right in front of her majesty?!
he was about to burst into tears… but he knew how much worse of a punishment he would get if he were to disobey.
he remained his stoic expression as he was being approached by someone.
“sir! (name) has sent this for you!” another one of your lackeys, he presumed.
he ran off after handing the tray at him.
“you’re killing me, (name).” he laughed, seeing the three glasses of water in front of him.
to think he thought he got away by not drinking any liquid while on his mission.
one, two, three.
childe felt as if his knees were giving up. he needed to go somewhere with less people, just in case.
he couldn’t run. that would just make it worse.
“ajax. i see you’ve enjoyed my gift.”
“what? water–” he was immediately cut off with a slap to face, sending him down to his knees.
“what did i say about talking back?”
“i-i’m sorry. i won’t do it again! please–(name)–i can’t anymore…”
“you should’ve begged like that instead before you decided to be a brat.” you stated, spitting on him.
“i’m sorry…please, let me.” to think someone like him would say such things left him embarrassed. yet he didn’t care, he was about to burst right now.
“very well, let’s go outside.”
“outside?”
“you said you couldn’t anymore, right?”
you brought him outside the fatui headquarters and you could see the horrified look on his face as the puzzle formed in his head.
“wait! (n-name), not here…” he whispered to you.
the public’s market was bustling with people, children, the elderly, fatuis.
“you have two options, you freak. do it right now, or endure for a week.”
“a-a week?” he stuttered.
“perfect time, i need to do some shopping as well.” you mentioned, going to a nearby fish shop and deciding to leave childe alone in the middle of the street until he grabbed your hand and gave a shyful nod.
the fish clerk was an old woman, probably selling fish that her husband caught. “my, what charming faces! go on! take a look!”
childe’s face was full of embarrassment his own pee leaking down to his thighs and eventually his legs. you see him trying to cover his mouth, for someone who was scared earlier, he seemed to be enjoying urinating in front of others.
“brother! is that you?” he froze in his place, hearing a high-pitched voice getting closer.
“n-no, not now… i can’t… can’t stop…” childe looked over at you, pleading for you to help him out.
he crouched down, still not finished with his business.
a sigh left your lips.
“fine. but you owe me one, alright?”
he saw a devilish grin form on your face. it couldn’t possibly get any worse than this, right?
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1-800-clawro · 2 years
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𖥻  TOO MUCH !
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ɪ: sub!childe x dom!gn!reader
ɪɪ: tw: nsfw, virgin!flirty!childe, blowjob, reader calls childe baby (once), fleshlight mention (once), lmk if more
ɪɪɪ: unfinished ending ! sorry.
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I think Childe would be a virgin. Now… hear me out! He may have a charm that most people would fall for, but he never got into a real intimate relationship before.
You're going to be his first. He would always tease you when he got the chance. Brushing his hands on your cheek, trying to hold your hand, and straight up whispering dirty stuff in your ear.
You couldn't take it. The frustration got to you and you snapped at him. But when you were about to take off his shirt, he told you he never did this before.
You froze. At first you chuckled at his joke. But his face was serious. You didn't know what to do. Did he want to have his first time with you?
He did.
He moaned as you prepared him with kisses. He was sitting down in his chair. His hands were tied to said chair. You told him he couldn't touch you.
He became more eager once you told him that. Your hands traveled to his pants. You unzipped them and pulled them down, same with his boxers. His dick was visible and very hard.
You smirked. You lowered yourself to where his dick was. You opened your mouth to put the tip in. He whimpered, making you swirl your tongue on his tip.
You slowly took him whole. Childe moaned again trying to touch you, but he couldn't. You mainly focused on his tip. You went up and down on him. And he lived for it.
"Please~ ugh! Please… let me touch you!!!"
You laughed but didn't do anything. You felt like he had to earn it. You were like a prize.
Childe felt like he was on cloud nine. He never felt this way before. It was way better than a flashlight… "mmmh- too much! Too much!" 
"Do you want me to stop, baby?" Childe shook his head. "No! No!"
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33roda · 2 years
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may I offer this and a quick thirst of capitano having a monster - tentacle like - tongue. Fucking childe dumb while Capitano helps double fucking him with his tongue only (creaming rn)
also, if it's not taken, can I be 🫐 anon?
childe sitting on your cock, back to your chest while capitano sits in front of him; big, slimy tongue exploring every inch of him. it drags against his skin, from his nipples down to the hole that takes you so well, sometimes wrapping around his cock to lick it a little. the way he can feel capitano's hot breath against him makes him wanna shiver and shake, but he can't move, ordered to cockwarm you as he's tasted by your partner. his job only gets harder when capitano starts focusing a little too much on his hole, slowly slipping his tongue in to be surrounded by both childe's warmth and your leaking cock. he'd be lying if he said it wasn't delicious, if he didn't want to spend hours tasting the both of you – but it's already evident anyway by the way he thrusts his hot slimy tongue into poor little childe. of course, this ends with childe eventually losing control and grinding against both your cock and capitano's tongue, maybe even playing with his own nipples,, absolutely drunk on sex and chasing any kind of pleasure he can.
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operatric · 4 months
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Thinking about Childe
Masochism and dacryphillia (totally spelled that wrong) warning
Tartaglia is totally a masochist, it takes a bit to get him to sob but he totally is a masochist. It’s the only thing this fandom can agree on. Flogging him is so much fun. Watching as his cheeks turn cherry red. Forcing the brattiness out of him as he becomes brainless is so adorable. Cock stepping with him after he gets a boner from your punishment. Maybe using weighted nipple clamps on him. The shit I’d do to this man-I love him so much, but I love his tears the most like:
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Omfg-
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Kinktober
Hello everyone! As most of you may know I haven't been all that active recently due to personal projects, school, and work. I apologize for disappearing so suddenly but I'm here to announce I will be participating in KinkTober!!!
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This is my list:
Albedo 
Oct 1st- Orgasm Denial, Toys - Sometimes Experiments test your limits
Oct 28- Threesome (With himself), Revenge sex  - Perhaps Limits should be pushed more often. . .they lead to the sweetest kind of revenge
Al Haitham
Oct 2nd- Voyeurism, Bulge (Al Haitham!Sub) - You and your 'old ass' husband decided to something rather risky in public while your husband thanks his wife is receiving his it actual seems he was wrong and his lovely wife fucked him instead.
Ayato
Oct 3rd- Lap Dance, face sitting - The Yakuza boss has only ever fallen for one woman. He would let her get away with anything as long as she was his. With ease he now has the woman in his grasp.
Baizhu
Oct 4th- Body Worshiping, Medical (Baizhu!Dom) - As she meets a doctor that not only helps her medically but sexually she instantly choses that maybe this doctor can heal her heart.
Oct 29- CNC, Lingerie (Baizhu!Switch) - In desperate need for another model after one ditched and left you high and dry you ask your coordinator to provide some much needed assistance in exchange for a want of his.
Childe
Oct 5th- Degradation, Pain kink - Sometime digging your claws into the back of the person pissing you off is the best course of action even if it isn't the most ethical
Cyno
Oct 6- Shower sex, Professor/Tutor - Having to harshly accept something the tan boy would never even think to question somehow lead to him and his girlfriend together in a steamy shower.
Dainsleif
Oct 7th- Polaroids, Solo - He despises the get out of jail free card as he is forced to endure the relentless horniness; yet he desperately needs the release even if the means our humiliating
Oct 27- Chasity Cage, Ruined Orgasms
Diluc
Oct 8th- Car sex, getting caught - Perhaps he should've waited until he got home, maybe if he did he wouldn't have been embarrassed and lost the only contact with the person he was head over heels for but at last he didn't. . .
Oct 26- Sensory Deprivation, Heat play - He needed to apologize he needed to get back in her good graces. He'd do anything to hear her voice, to see her, fuck even feel her. He was going insane but thankfully his insanity paid off.
Dottore
Oct 9- Hate sex, Humilation - After leaving her humilated one to many times she finally gets her revenge.
Enjou
Oct 31- Monster fucking, ice play - Sometimes the monster under the bed needs to be satisfide too.
Eremite
Oct 11 - Gangbang, Freeuse (Eremite!Dom) - As a doctor it is their job to make sure all of their patients are satisfied with their care, regardless of what type of care it is.
Fatui (Pyro Gunslinger)
Oct 12-  Gloryhole, vanilla (Fatui!Dom) - Despite not wanting to go to the gloryhole but the moment she is being fucked by some random stranger who gave her, his number it was clear she was going to enjoy this place a lot more from now on.
Gorou
Oct 13- Virgin, Dry humping (Gorou!Sub) - Neither of them suspected they'd have any fun at a club until they met each other and took the time to have some fun. Giving the opportunity for more fun in the future.
Itto
Oct 14- Breeding, Restraints - Breeding season for Kitsune is the a very bad time for the meathead Oni but at least he had guidance this time around.
Kaeya 
Oct 15- Roleplay, Strength kink  - Some people need to take the hint rather than disturb his boss and his lover.
Kazuha
Oct 16- Bondage, make-up sex -
Nobushi
Oct 17- Praise, Dumfication -
Pantalone
Oct 18- Sex tape, Squirting (Pantalone!Dom) - Being able to sexually express yourself to your partner often times lead to unimaginable kinds of orgasms
Oct 30- Streaming, Hand kink (Pantalone!Sub) - Pantalone is being punished for being a brat by his Mistress on camera allowing his viewers to see him being edged until he breaks and asks forgiveness having his mistress join the livestream as he finally cums.
Pierro
Oct 19- Fingering, Cheating (Pierro!Dom) - Did she really come for the traditions or did she come her for the potential of pleasure from a man she could never get until now?
Scaramouche
Oct 20-  Marking, Somnophila - Payback is truly a bitch sometimes.
Thoma
Oct 21- Rough sex, Choking (Thoma!Dom) - While Thoma is normally a happy-go-lucky person having someone flirt and feel up his soon to be husband drives him mad so mad he takes it out on his husband in a very welcomed sexual way.
Oct 10- Mirror, Edging (Thoma!Sub) - Being possessive and having a kind husband that treats everyone kindly is one of the worst combos but in this sense a combo that they adore.
Tighnari
Oct 22- Aphrodisiacs, Thigh riding - Perhaps he might've pushed himself to his limits this time. . . luckily he has his boyfriend to care for him.
Venti
Oct 23- Moring sex, lazy sex - Sometimes being lazy is the best remedy after having the person you've been missing dearly
Xiao
Oct 24- Demon, Collaring - Claiming an Incubus comes with many perks, at least when you know you've claimed one for yourself.
Zhongli
Oct 25- Teasing, Cockwarming  - All he wanted was to join a social gathering among co-workers but little did he know his partner and boss was keen on making sure his attention was on them, and them alone.
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I will also add a taglist for the Kinktober entries as a sort of test phase. I'll be using this to see if having a permeant taglist is something I'd liked to do and I'll see the response you guys give it so this is the Taglist:
@stygianoir @yunadxd
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sh1-n0bu · 1 year
Note
sorry i keep dissapearing shits happening🤭
anyways have fluffy smut with ginger syndrome because i enjoy making tall people crumble beneath me ^^ also i didn't specify which position so its up to you to decide
He was having a rough day already, and this didn't help at all. He had already been forced to deal with his pretty stupid underlings on the easiest tasks, and now he couldn't find you. He remembered what you offered a while ago.
"If you ever are stressed, look for me. We can do this 'till you're better," You said with a soft smile as you ran your hands through his hair as he laid his head on your chest. He smiled for the first time in a while, genuinely.
As he walked around Liyue Harbor, he felt a hand land on his shoulder softly.
"Looking for me?"
His eyes rolled back as he groaned, you never failed to make him feel like this. A moaning mess, a cheap whore, nothing more, nothing less. You ran your hand across his cheek and he leaned into the warmth, tears dripping from his eyes. You continued to thrust into him, and he couldn't stop himself from tipping over the edge again. His cum was almost transparent; you two had been fucking for a while now, and he never wanted to stop. "You're taking me so well, Ajax. You deserve a reward, don't you?" You whispered into his ear, nibbling on the lobe of it. He whimpered and nodded, squeezing his ass and eyes shut from the immense pleasure. You hummed and started thrusting harder, getting ready to reward him. You thrust harder and farther than before, reaching spots never imaginable, and shot your load deep in him. His eyes widened and rolled up, his hand trying to grip onto anything, drool dripping from his mouth as he moaned so loud it'd be considered a scream, and came with you, unexpectedly. He gave out not much later, his eyes closing, and he fell asleep with you still inside him, a content look on his face. You grinned a little at this, and you laid him down on your chest, keeping yourself inside of him so he wouldn't wake up. You played with his hair until you got tired, and laid your face into it. "Goodnight, Ajax." You mumbled and gave him a forehead kiss. He blushed, still sleeping, and dug his fave closer into you. There, you two fell asleep together, in the comfort of one another.
end
sub aether next bc hoyo knows what they're doing when they make those femboys!1!1!11!
—🕴 anon
HSJYDJGTDJYDKGDKGJSDJGD
EVERYONE SAY THANK U 🕴 ANON
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kalystatheevil · 5 months
Text
picture scaramouche bent over, hands tied behind his back, face pressed to a coffee table with you holding him from behind
tw: cursing, cnc, praise, humiliation, dom reader, unhealthy use of ellipses; (amab reader), 18+
you rub your glistening cock between scaramouche's spread asscheeks, almost moaning from the view alone. your precum is already leaking into the cracks, moistening them prettily.
"fuck, scara… what did i tell you, huh?" a sharp slap resounds, and scaramouche's right cheek immediately starts turning pinkish. the boy grits his teeth.
"go to hell you fucking psycho."
"mhhh…" your thumbs leave little indents in the supple skin of his ass. between them, a throbbing hole clenches nervously. "a psycho, am i."
scaramouche moans as you push the tip past the rim. you're sure he didn't mean to, but it still escaped his lips. slowly, you push just the tip in and out, watching intently as the skin spreads around the gland, swallowing it greedily.
"you stretch so beautifully, scara," you coo, a soft blush on your face. "so incredibly beautiful"
"stop— stop looking!" scaramouche growls. "it's—" he gasps loudly when the tip enters him yet again, face already red from all the blood gathering in his head.
"it's what, scara..."
"it's— ugly…"
at this, you click your tongue and stop. "ugly?"
scaramouche becomes angry, deflecting from his quickly rising shame. "yes, ugly. seriously, stop with this stupid game you're playing, i don't need you to act like you're into th—"
you thrust into him, deep and hard. scaramouche's words are lost in a strangled gurgle as his eyes roll back.
"it seems i need to fuck that thought out of you."
with one roll of your hands, you shorten the rope connected to his tied wrists, tugging them upwards. slowly, you start to roll your hips back, watching as the rim catches and slides over your cock. you moan. "aah, scara… you look so, so pretty like this"
"fuck… you… ngh— a-aahn…"
you breathe heavily. "fuck. fuck, scara. you take me so well. look at you, moaning like a slut..."
"shut— shut up. fuck. i'll kill you. i swear i'll fucking kill y— MGH!" you slam back into him. any further protest is drowned by the sound of thighs hitting flesh in sharp slaps as you start pounding into him. harder and harder you thrust back inside, needing to reach deeper, faster, harder.
it doesn't take long for scaramouche to lose his composure. on the surface of the coffee table, he rolls his head almost limply to the side. his eyes are blurry with pleasure, but still he tries to look at you out of the corner of his eye - to make you see exactly what you are doing to him.
you breathe a laugh, panting hard. under scaramouche's mouth, a steadily growing puddle of drool forms. he twitches, legs giving in.
you grab his hips so hard his skin will certainly bruise. scaramouche is not yet allowed to stop taking you. you stare and stare, fucking him until the world starts to tilt, until your cock feels numb from sheer pleasure, until you start twitching so hard that it's visible on the front of scaramouche's stomach—
you cum hard, gasping for air. white stars form in your vision, and you can feel your hands tremble on his soft skin.
"haha…" you laugh, out of breath. under you, scaramouche whimpers quietly.
after a moment, you pull out slowly. a thick line of cum connects the tip of your still slightly twitching cock with scaramouche's warm, fluttering hole. "ahh… fuck. my cum… hahaha… deep… deep inside you…"
scaramouche lets out another whine. his hole clenches before releasing a white drop of liquid. he whimpers, trying to say something.
"mh?" you ask, using your thumb to smear the droplet around the throbbing hole. "speak up, scara…"
amidst his wordless whimpers, you push your thumb inside and laugh again, feeling scaramouche milking it powerlessly.
"i wonder when you came…"
"mmglh…" scaramouche answers. when something warm touches his freely leaking cock, he flinches lightly. a moan tumbles over his lips. with the palm of your hand, you rub the tip of his soft erection.
"or rather… how many times." scaramouche's eyes slowly roll backwards. with a grin, you raise your hand back up and glide your tongue over the palm, humming appreciatively at the taste. "yum ~"
"no…more…" scaramouche finally breathes. "can't…" your arm slings around his belly. with ease, you lift him up. "ahn—"
"no more? no more, scara?"
"no... more..."
"but baby..." you place a soft kiss on his temple.
"we were just getting started."
[formatting shamelessly stolen from scara smut writer @hanxku]
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erubescentz · 1 year
Note
Blowing out tartagilas back because why not
(I'm being very vague here because I get overly explicit if I don't 😁)
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A/n : overly explicit is my middle name, but yes blowing out tartaglias back is a dream
Sub!childe x reader
cw : nsfw obvi, sub/dom dynamic, sub!childe
No gendered language but reader dose use a strap on, you can imagine it as a real peepee if that suits u better :)
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It would just be so satisfying to see him become a mess on your strap after being such a brat all day. You see, your boyfriend just loves to act all high and mighty when in front of others, always acting like he is the one in charge of this relationship. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.
As soon as it’s just the two of you alone, Childe drops the act, he forgets all about the persona he worked so hard establishing and completely submits to you. On one hand your grateful he only acts this way in front of you, it makes your heart swarm knowing he is comfortable being completely vulnerable with you. But on the other hand, sometimes you want the world to know just how much of a slut your boyfriend is for you, and only for you.
But you understand childe’s wish to keep that part of your life private, so instead you redirect your frustrations :)
“aa-Ah shit, feelssogood~ haah hA” he moaned out as you continue to pound hard and fast into his ass, his eyes rolling back into his head and drool dripping down his chin making an utterly erotic sight.
“Hmm, how would your friends react to seeing you like this mh? Going all dumb on my cock? S-shit you look so good just for me though yeah?” You question him, eyes flickering between his fucked out face and the point we’re your strap is fucking into him, filling him up so nicely.
You can make out a “Just f’you” in Childe’s incoherent babbling, making the possessive side of you show as you lean down to mark him, never once slowing your brutal pace.
An : got a little carried away cuz I love this idea hehe, anyways I hope you enjoy:)) also sorry taking long to answer asks
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genacity · 7 months
Text
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cw. sub character & gn dom reader, anal pen, reader has a dick that can be interpreted as a strap
thinking about a pretty boy letting out the sweetest moans; back against the mattress as you fucked him. legs up over your shoulders as he whined and begged for more, hands over his eyes or grabbing at the sheets with every thrust. head thrown back with a pretty gasp, you couldn’t help but laugh.
“baby,” you cooed to your pretty boy, trying to catch his eyes. “look at me.”
“c-can’t,” would be all he could say, hiccuping and whimpering as he covered his face with his hands. “oh god, can’t— so full!”
you feigned disappointment, jutting your bottom lip out into a pout. “oh baby.” you said. “you know i wanna see your pretty face. if you can’t show me, i’ll have to pull out.”
“no!” your pretty boy would almost yell as his head shot up, looking at you with wide eyes as his chest heaved in sharp breaths. it wasn’t until he saw the way your expression morphed into something stern did he cower, eyes blowing into saucers, even if you think they couldn’t get any bigger.
“no?” you repeated, tone no longer the soft coo that made your pretty baby’s head spin as he begged for more.
“sorry, ‘m sorry, please!” he quickly scrambled to apologize, trying to sit up onto his elbows until you shoved him back down by a hand on his chest; a drawn out whine slipping his lips as his back hit the mattress again. “please, i’m sorry! i- i didn’t mean it, please—”
you pressed your cock right against his sweet spot, making your pretty boy let out a garbled moan as his back arched up off of the mattress. you were quick to push him back down and tower over him, leaning in to whisper into his ear.
“you know i don’t like it when you raise your voice,” you said. “maybe i’ll have to remind you how to speak to me.”
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scaramouche, gorou, blade, heizou, venti, kaveh, childe, kaeya, itto, your faves
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infrunamie · 8 months
Text
idek what this is, smut turned angst? it was only supposed to be smut headcanons but i got carried away teehee
bully!reader x victim!yandere
victim!yandere whos panting out “thank yous” while you let him hump your leg in the gym equipment room like a dog.
victim!yandere who steals your textbooks for the class you have to study for and when you find him, he’s holding your stuff behind his back with a wet tent in his pants saying, “come t—take it from me, [name].”
victim!yandere who asks begs you to take your anger out on him. step on his perverted dick, slap him in the face, humiliated him and take away his dignity.
victim!yandere when the first time he saw you in gym class, sweaty, cocky, sexy you who managed to turn this boy into a shaking mess when you tackled him in football.
victim!yandere who definitely steals your underwear, used or new, hes sniffing it while humping your pillow case. at school, if your drinking from a plastic bottle or straw he’ll take the straw/bottle and suck on it for dear life palming the bulge in his pants.
victim!yandere who sees the math teacher making advances towards you and what was that? his dead body was found outside a police station with a paper confessing to 5 sexual assault cases?
victim!yandere who sees you flirting with some girl. when you wait at the mall for your date, you get a message from her saying that “she never wants to see or talk to you again.”
-
force him to do shameless things, make him wear a long trench coat with nothing underneath and go out in public, stand near him on the crowded train and start fingering his lewd boy pussy. when you get to the cafe, take him to the bathroom and stuff him full off your cum.
when you guys are at a party, make him wear a vibrator and urethra plug and keep it at the highest volume. when hes not looking sneak away and wait for him to find you, fat tears running down his flushed face, knees about to give away at any moment.
-
if you do get in a relationship with someone else bad news for you, that persons body was found cut up and mangled in the alley you walk home in?
when you get home after you called the police, you see him, biting his shirt, riding your pillow with hunger. “[name], [name] oh fuck, ‘gotta hurry b—before they come back mmmhh-“ he whimpered, hips stuttering and asshole clenching around nothing. your eyes locked onto the bloody knife tip poking out of a plastic bag on your dresser
after you saw that you ran out, door accidentally slamming it behind you. you rummaged through your pockets until you found your phone, eyes tearing up clouding your vision, making putting in your password harder along with your shaky hands.
you finally opened your phone and dialled 911, beep beep beep. with a crackle the receiver on the other end picked up. “please help th-“ slap your phone fell from your hands as a two arms came from behind you and wrapped around your torso. “[name], what are you doing.” a voice behind you grumbled, laced with betrayal, sadness, and most prominent. anger.
“what am i doing?! what are you doing. breaking into my damn house, murdering my s/o, and humping my goddamn pillow.” you shout, immediately your face tingled at the thought, were you sleeping somewhere his dick has been? you shove him off you and step back, crushing your phone in the process.
“you’re a fucking psychopath.” you whisper fear evident in your eyes. “you betrayed me, [name],” with every step forward he took you took two back. “you and that bitch, playing with my heart after i gave you everything. you love me. i love you. there’s no room for others to try and ruin what we have.” he said slowly but filled with raw emotion.
your back hit the wall as he loomed over you. the tabled turned, your heart drops to your stomach. you notice when hes not hunched, hes tall. really fucking tall. and the black compression shirt really shows off his muscles when hes not hiding behind hoodies.
“i’m doing this shit you think is fucked up because i love you, i’m doing this for our love, [name]. you’ll understand that soon enough.”
eren, armin, keigo, johnny joestar, izuku, hange, geto, kageyama, childe, yoshida, your faves.
been having a yandere brainrot icl
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