#tartaglia x you
Text
frostbite — pt. 14
pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader
content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn
cw ; mentions of scars (edit: im a fucking idiot i forgot they talk abt scars at the start of the chapter) and like… brief dottore mention, so u know it’s icky. also u guys will be mad at me.
notes ; AHHH!!!!! I LIVE!!!!! oh gosh so many hectic life events lately….. i hadnt been able to get my hands on this dang chapter for so long
anyhow, i was planning to publish this one early like a day or two ago with a reference to an arlecchino voiceline that was THEN a leak and not out yet, so i’m glad i waited and developed this one just a little more LOL
also good luck with everyone’s arle pulls!!! (better luck than mine i hope ;w;) just like childe and the reader at some point, WANTERS WILL BE HAVERS ‼️
previous | next | masterlist
“agh— be more gentle!”
“i’ll be more gentle if you stop flinching away. you’re a war machine who can turn into an abyssal beast, withstand how draining it is to use it, hold your ground against a champion duelist but you can’t handle a little cotton ball soaked in alcohol?”
“well there’s no adrenaline anymore to remedy this sting, now, is there?”
it’s almost comically reminiscent of your meeting with childe back in zapolyarny palace, where he got himself hurt just to come tell you that he was to leave for liyue— feels like it was ages ago. childe leans against the elegant marble counter of your hotel room’s bathroom, pile of bloodied cottons and tissues piling by his hands, while you clean the fresh wounds he’s just acquired from clorinde.
from how much he flinches and hisses, the wounds almost seem grave… but they’re no more than a few scratches, slashes and bruises. after his witty remark, you can only attribute his absurd resilience during battle to the mentioned adrenaline— otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten nearly as far as he has with those reactions of his.
“so did you get what you wanted from that spar? how was it in comparison to your other tries?”
childe pauses thoughtfully and proceeds to pout.
“…i think she was still holding back. i need another spar.”
“gh-! are you kidding?! childe tartaglia ajax, i am not letting you resplit the forehead i just fixed up anytime soon.”
he sighs melancholy like a grounded child, but nods in agreement anyhow. childe’s eyes remain downward, he mindlessly fiddles with the hem of your shirt as he awaits patiently for you to finish tending to his wounds. once you finish, you scan him up and down to certify that you’ve taken care of everything, until your gaze is caught by his scars.
his war medals.
he’s got an insurmountable amount of them scattered all over his body and not one is like the other— some are large lashes most likely caused by weapons like axes or claymores; some are finer lines caused by swords or daggers; a few of them even look like different types of burns, likely the work of varied elemental catalysts; and some look like small stars or circles, probably the result of arrows or the tips of polearms.
the inches of his skin that his scars don’t cover are littered with the tiniest specs of freckles… ones you’ve barely had the privilege to see over the years as a result of living in eternally cold lands. it’s only been since you’ve both been to warmer regions like liyue, inazuma and now fontaine that you’ve began to notice them.
and you’ve found that the intricate, graceful tapestry that childe’s scars and freckles weave is… gorgeous.
it’s so uniquely mesmerizing that you nearly struggle to find a worthy comparison within words or the world around you. the closest one would be to a starry sky— you imagine that his freckles become the stars that remain stationary and furthest away in the night sky, small and bountiful, while his scars are the shooting stars that flash by in a vivid explosion of light.
it’s beautiful. he’s beautiful.
you’ve realized that you’re less afraid to admit this to yourself now. perhaps spending so much constant time with childe after such a while of misencounters and diverging schedules, has made you become more comfortable around him— to the point where you barely minded him childishly playing with the hem of your shirt. it feels fine, domestic even… almost in the same way that a coup—
“hey, why’re you staring so hard? am i not gonna make it, doc?”
you flinch as you’re snapped away from your train of thought, taking in how childe’s eyes flicker worriedly over your face. unfortunately, your mind isn’t freed from the grasp of your thoughts of… admiration and your gaze quickly flies over his scars once again. the delicacy of the moment, unexpectedly, fuels you with enough confidence to raise forward a hand that lightly grazes a particularly eye-catching gash on childe’s neck— the stretched healed skin ever so slightly bumping against your digits.
“nothing… j’st looking at your scars.” you answer absentmindedly.
beneath your hand, you feel his adam’s apple raise in a hearty gulp. next, childe inhales deeply and exhales a shuddered breath, as if an attempt to ground himself.
“what about ‘em?” he whispers expectantly.
“i like them.”
it’s as if you’ve gotten the liquid courage of a drink while being entirely sober, you’re surprised that you’ve done so much as let yourself say that out loud. though perhaps… that bewilderment might just be your downfall— within the thought, you notice just how close you and childe stand before each other. he leans against the bathroom counter in only the deep red undershirt of his uniform, eyes laser-guided onto your every move while you’re only a hair’s length away from him. his absurd height doesn’t help the moment either, as he’s forced to hunch over and his figure arches forward into you— it’s suffocating.
you can’t allow yourself to crumble and panic right now, it would absolutely destroy you for the rest of your life, so you opt to breathe deeply. childe watches intently as you do and returns it with his own deep sigh, one that you feel hit your face warmly the moment it leaves his lips and so it further capitalizes on just how obscenely close the two of you are— to the point where you breathe each other’s air.
childe’s piercing azure eyes move from matching your own to slightly further down on your face…
to your lips.
“yeah?” he mumbles in the most delicate tone possible, it’s not like you’re too far to hear anyway.
it’s an inexplicable magnetic pull that brings you the smidgenmost closer to him, it has to be so. it must be that same pull that brings you to look at his mouth— plump and pink, likely still store from the split at the corner of his bottom lip. and there’s no other possibility other than that damned magnet as to why your hands slide up to wrap around his neck, childe’s shyly snaking around your waist in response.
you don’t feel like you’re in a bathroom in a hotel room in fontaine anymore, you don’t feel like the seconds pass anymore. it’s a pocket between space and time that has enveloped the two of you, away from everything else.
and there’s nothing in this world left to do other than to lean just a breath closer to each other… just a little more and—
knock knock knock knock!
you flinch away faster than lightning, heart thudding ironically like thunder. childe also seems to have been entirely spooked by the knocks on the bedroom door and he pretends to bring his hand up to scratch something on his face, but you know very well he means to hide his glaringly flushed face— you know that because you do the very same, only you briskly step away to open the door instead.
outside the room, two fontainian officers greet you, though they seemingly go wide eyed for just a brief second as if you’re not who they expect to answer.
“forgive me, friend, this is… mr. tartaglia’s room, is it not?” one inquires.
you frown in suspicion, and you plan to not directly confirm the question as to pry exactly what business two policemen would have with childe. unfortunately, the devil decides to announce it himself by coming up behind you, arms crossed defensively.
“and what might be the problem, officer?” childe asks pointedly.
both officers simultaneously eye the two of you, the blushing idiots opening the door together, and proceed to share a knowing look. the first officer sighs while the second clears his throat awkwardly.
“we apologize for… intruding so abruptly but— mr. tartaglia, you are currently being suspected of being the culprit behind the serial disappearances of young women case. for the time being, you are under arrest and must face trial at the opera epiclese to make your case.”
…what.
“what?”
coincidentally, both you and childe exclaim at the same time— though, childe’s tone is rather condescendingly skeptical while yours is laced with pure, unadulterated shock.
the harbinger scoffs. “well, i can very confidently tell you right now that i didn’t do it.”
yeah, great way to clear any and all suspicion, man.
frustratedly pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to help you process the last five seconds, you sigh.
“i-i think what he means to say, officer, is that it’s not plausible for him to even be a suspect in this case. i mean— if i remember correctly, doesn’t that case extend for over twenty years? we’ve only been in fontaine for a few weeks! you can check our travel tickets, they’re dated. plus, we haven’t done anything even remotely disruptive while we’ve been here, both of us have multiple reliable alibi’s regarding our whereabouts over the past few days, and—“
the officer puts up a dismissive hand, effectively interrupting you. “please, leave this for the iudex to hear.”
a metallic jingling catches your attention and you see that the second policeman wordlessly produces handcuffs from his tool belt, the panic bubbles in your throat even further. childe’s shoulders visibly tense and it’s clear that he’s intent on fighting back— with once again lighting fast reflexes, you put a hand on his shoulder and throw him a warning look as a means to discreetly impede him. childe sighs frustratedly but ceases anyhow, allowing himself to be guided out of the room. out of pure illogical desperation, you chase after.
“don’t say anything hostile or stupid until we find you a lawyer! i promise you i’ll be right behind!” you call out as the three are at the other end of the hallway and catch a final look from childe, the emotion behind it is indescribable.
your chest feels overwhelmingly tight.
—
who knew such a resplendent room could be so suffocating.
it feels as though you’ve been waiting for an eternity and the intended comfort of the opera eplicese’s waiting room only serves to unnerve you more. the most important person in your life has just been abruptly accused of being a serial kidnapper and you’re supposed to indulge in sickeningly sweet pastries and tasteless tea? it’s almost derogatory.
your leg has become sore from how much it bounces restlessly, your nail plates scratchy from how much you fidget with them, all the paper napkins on the table sloppily folded into failed paper stars. none of it helps.
you can’t even decide what to worry about, all of it swirls and spirals in your head like a rumbling tornado. is he okay? are the officers treating him well? who will defend him? will he go to prison? for how long? when in the tsaritsa’s name will arlecchino retur—
the door slams open and you jump, partially with the abruptness of it and out of sheer panic to get some news on the situation. your heart starts palpitating again and it takes everything within your willpower to seem more put together in front of the knave.
“s-so?” you ask with an uncontrollable shake in voice.
“it’s invariable, childe must face trial and defend himself. we can only count on the factuality that he is innocent and the oratrice will say accordingly.”
you sigh, at least… whatever in the archons’ name constitutes that machine is infallible.
“the trial starts in five minutes.” arlecchino adds curtly.
you nod and allow yourself to take a deep, grounding breathe before standing up to leave the waiting room. as your hand reaches out to the doorknob, there is a firm grip on your shoulder. you turn ever so slightly to find a pointy-nailed, stark black hand holding you back— another moment to analyze the hand reveals to you that… that’s her skin. black.
a chill runs down your spine.
“allow me, for a moment, to ask a selfish question in exchange for a selfish answer, sargeant.” she stands, voice dark and menacing. “as an asset of the doctor’s… do you share his ideals?”
the question takes you off-guard but it also… doesn’t. you’re not an idiot— you’ve heard of dottore’s letters to the house of the hearth suggesting the, err.. ‘rejects’ be sent to his custody so he can further his experiments. you remember how utterly appalled you were when you first came across the information. if the knave truly cares about the children in her orphanage, it’s no wonder how tightly she grips your shoulder, sharp nails just a breath away from breaking skin.
and so she asks you selfishly, a question not of loyalty but of morality.
dottore’s face flashes before your eyes and your hand subconsciously tightens into a fist, expression hardening.
“if his life were in my hands, i’d crush it in a heartbeat.” you whisper bitterly.
the grip releases you and it’s as if air is easier to breathe after that. arlecchino wordlessly steps ahead to open the door for you and gestures for you to leave first, expression neutral as if nothing had happened.
the courtroom looks like no courtroom at all, rather you feel as though you’re about to watch an opera in a grand theater— the rumors about fontaine seem to be true after all. in the rows of cushy seats, people whisper and gossip endlessly until you find yourself a seat and the booming sound of a gavel being struck echoes through the court, all sound ceases.
“court is now in session for the case of serial disappearances of young women, today we will hear both the prosecution and defense’s arguments regarding mr. tartaglia of the fatui’s alleged involvement.”
a baritone voice echoes through the silent courtroom, the direction it rings out from reveals a white-haired man in proper blue robes, sitting in a balcony that floats above the courtroom’s stage. you recognize him as the iudex, the chief justice, monsieur neuvillette. his tone is elegant and intellectual, with complete considerate professionalism—- its cadence almost reminds you of zhongli in a sense. but that’s not all that reminds you of zhongli… you can’t quite put your finger on it though.
what follows is merely formal introductions from the prosecution and the defense and you take the opportunity to become distracted and ponder over just how catastrophic your morning had turned out. it all happened so quickly too— one second you were… ah… canoodling with childe and the next he was being escorted out the room by law enforcement. had you been cursed by the gods? would they be so cruel as to make every peaceful moment in your life just merely bedding for the next major inconvenience? would they be so frustratingly taunting as to let you get that close to the one you have feelings for only to rip you two away from each other right afterwards?
“it would appear i must repeat my question, mr. tartaglia.” neuvillette says firmly, catch your attention and breaking you from your daze.
“do you accept the charge that you are the true culprit behind the serial disappearances case?”
“to be perfectly honest, i don’t understand your country’s complicated court systems, or the reason why i’m being charged with something i’ve never even heard of.” the harbinger answers bluntly.
“however, i did hear that people who have been charged can choose to participate in a duel to clear their name— is that right? in that case, as long as i accept the charge, i can have an all out fight with that champion duelist clorinde, right?”
…
how can the supposed love of your life be this stupid?
“when i privately sparred with her last time, she was obviously holding back… real disappointing.”
“hey, don’t you understand? you’re currently the prime suspect for a major case! this isn’t the place for you to be looking for fights.” a female voice calls out from the balcony directly above where you seat— while you can’t see who it is, you can only assume from the bossiness of her tone that it’s lady furina herself, the hydro archon.
“oh? sounds like the hydro archon wants to lecture me on the ways of the opera house…” childe taunts. “then why don’t you duel me too? i’m the kind of students that learns best in the heat of battle.”
you’ll kill him, oh you’ll kill this idiot one day… does he want to rot in prison for the rest of his days? this time you truly cannot hold yourself back from subconsciously standing up in panic, limbs urging to get up there and try to amend the situation yourself by arguing like a normal, sane person— but the judging stares of the other spectators hinder you glued to your seat out of sheer embarrassment.
“alas, it would appear that communication with the defendant is going poorly, and we have made very little progress.” neuvillette intervenes. “in that case, let me explain everything from the very beginning again. the goal of this trial is to determine the culprit behind the serial disappearances case—“
“that case had nothing to do with him! you’ve got the wrong man!”
huh? …who said that? did that not come out of your own mouth? seems like something you’d blur out… instead it comes from a flamboyantly dressed blonde woman who bursts into the courtroom at that very second. to you, she nearly seemed angelic in the moment.
“miss navia, this is the second time you’ve interrupted the court proceedings. i only tolerated your behavior last time because you were able to provide the court with a key eyewitness. but that was exception rather than standard court protocol— i can very well charge you with contempt of court for your interjections.”
“oh please, did you ever think i had any respect for this place’s pointless theatrics?” navia scoffs.
“we can put aside that discussion for now, i’m not here to argue with you. i’m here to charge the true culprit behind the serial disappearances case. and if my charges prove true, the tartaglia here will be proven innocent by default, correct?”
neuvillette proceeds to dismiss childe from the stand to make way for navia and allows him to seat in the audience and you feel like you should owe this lady your life. childe’s eyes scan through the seats and when he spots you, he visibly lights up and beelines to the seat next to yours.
“challenging the hydro archon? really?” you whisper playfully.
childe contains himself not to laugh loudly. “can’t say it wasn’t worth the shot.”
it’s as if a wordless conversation settles between the two of you, silent glances and deep sighs that express the mutual hopefulness for a good outcome of this trial. after a solid few seconds of staring at each other like fools, childe’s gaze drops down, you follow it to see his gloved palm sat in the armrest between the two of you— it faces outward in an invitation. your hand joins his without thought and the second your skin registers the warmth that radiates from his hold, it’s like an electric shock runs through your veins. one so buzzing that makes you two simultaneously face away from each other to hide your burning cheeks.
you’d like to pretend that you’re paying attention to the trial, but the ever so gentle squeezes childe hand gives yours periodically seem to take up all of your focus and cause it to short circuit. suddenly, there’s another burst of the courtroom’s doors and there stand the traveler and paimon, because of course they’re somehow also involved in this.
“naviaaa, we’re back!” paimon calls out.
“as expected of my partner! i just knew you’d come back in the nick of time!”
“just how often do you intend to flout the rules of this court…” neuvillette mutters disappointedly.
the traveler’s appearance contributes new evidence towards navia’s favor, who expertly disperses all of the oppositions statements. the culprit is revealed to be a man by the name of vacher, who was intent on bringing back his dear vigneire to the point where he began dissolving innocent young women with primordial seawater. as overtly ridiculous as fontaine’s spectacle culture seemed to be, you couldn’t say that watching this trial play out wasn’t extremely entertaining.
but speaking of innocent…
“at this point, the verdict of this trial is clear. with mr. marcel’s conviction, the charges against mr. tartaglia no longer hold any basis.”
you giddily look over at childe, who seems as aloof as someone who didn’t worry for a second. your fingertips tingle with excitement and you can feel the stress evaporate off your shoulders in real time. neuvillette summarizes the entire case once more and submits the verdict to the oratrice— the machine hums loudly and flashes a blinding blue, producing an envelope finally confirming his guilty status. much to unspoken disappointment, childe lets go of your hand to stand with his chest proudly puffed up.
“well now, hasn’t this been the most delicious piece of drama? the villain has been caught, justice has been served, pas wrongs have been righted and it’s a bit ol happy ending… since it’s been such a great show, i’ll just let the false accusations against me slide. either way, i’ve still got some business to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me—“
the harbinger looks back to offer you his hand once more and you happily take it before childe begins to lead you two out of the room. unfortunately, the guards at the doors of the courtroom remain unmoving as they block the doors and you frown in confusion.
“please wait just one moment, mr. tartaglia.” says the iudex.
“oh, what now? none of this has anything to do with me.” childe groans.
“according to court protocol, since this trial was initiated due to a charge against you, a verdict must also be made regarding the initial charge before the trial can conclude.”
you sigh out of selfish frustration, but opt to respect the proceedings anyhow— it’s not like the verdict will change now. childe, on the other hand, voices his annoyance like a petulant kid.
“please respect the laws of fontaine. this has always been the rule.”
“it’s fine, we’ll just have to wait here a few little seconds more.” you whisper to childe coaxingly.
he sighs. “alright alright, but this has been a lot of hassle. all i need is to stand over there, right? let’s just get this over with…”
“through evidence presented in the public trial that was just held, it has been established that mr. tartaglia has no direct connection to the serial disappearances case. the guilty party has been established and thus, it is logical to suppose mr. tartaglia is innocent of the charges.”
the machine whirrs once more, stirring some curiosity within you as to what exactly makes it tick or give accurate verdicts at all. as the envelope reaches the chief justice’s hands, he seems to stutter for a moment as he reads it. neuvillette’s ever so stoic face falls slightly into a vexed frown and he hums in confusion.
“according to the judgment of the oratrice mechanique d’analyse cardinale, mr. tartaglia is— guilty.”
taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana
#genshin impact fic#childe genshin x reader#childe imagines#childe x reader#childe x y/n#childe x you#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#childe fic#tartaglia x y/n#tartaglia x you#childe tartaglia ajax#tartagalia genshin impact#tartaglia x reader
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ what I know to be true ⋆｡˚ ೀ⋆｡˚ ༘
Childe wasn't a big fan of the Tsaritsa's demand for him to find a wife, until he'd come upon the perfect girl for the job. You—a lady he knew in his childhood to be a horrible nuisance and demon on Earth. Not only would this marriage fulfill his duty, but would let him settle a long-time grudge as well. Little did he know, he stood more to gain from this partnership than he thought.
Childe x fem!reader II arranged marriage, angst? to fluff, childhood enemies to lovers, romance!
Childe was never one for romance, and especially not for commitment.
He just had so much else on his plate, much bigger dreams than that of settling down in a household and abandoning his place on the battlefield.
He was always looking ahead to a future of bloodshed, of power, of someday ruling the world.
That wasn't going to happen if a distraction stood in his way.
He would sometimes muse about having kids, loving the idea of continuing his lineage and watching a bunch of mini-me's run around, but ultimately, he decided his duty to the Tsaritsa would stand in the way of him being a good father. So he'd just have to settle for being an amazing uncle to the children his siblings would eventually have, spoiling them with presents at Christmas time and teaching them how to protect themselves out in the wild.
So when he was called into the Tsaritsa's throne room and received the news that a harbinger of his status was to be married, in order to keep up with regal airs the nobles of Snezhanaya, he was, respectfully, very unhappy.
"You'll be seen at balls and lead battalions. Your role must be carried with honor. Nobody will respect an old lonely man.", she claimed, then drew out a long, thin arm to hold his chin with a bony hand—long pointed nails pressing divots into his skin. Though her touch was frigid, she looked down at him with a certain fondness in her eyes, though the sincerity of it was undistinguishable. "You need a pretty thing by your side to elevate your status. You know I only want what's best for you.", she cooed, like she was addressing a child.
He new better than to disobey her commands, and something about the smoothness of her voice assured him that this was the right choice. He only nodded, though his fists clenched at his sides in dismay.
Childe read over the listed names of eligible young ladies for him to marry with contempt; scrolling through the meaningless last names and accompanying statures, ordered from top to bottom by how highly they stood in the totem pole of nobility. Like he cared where the girl would come from.
He felt guilt for the miserable thing that would have to marry him; though he could care less about who these women were, he believed that they deserved a partner that loved them, or at least a good man that could stand to take care of them. All they would be to him is a nuisance, a label which they had done nothing to earn.
Though, when he neared the end of the list, a section devoted to common folk who had certain merits like striking beauty or some sort of fame, that he found a name he recognized.
Your name.
Oh, how he remembered you.
You were the daughter of good friends of his parents. Your families would often gather for holidays or dinner parties, sharing what little they had in the name of kinship. The gatherings were lively, full of happiness and cheer...
But you had a certain countenance that stood out to him and branded your name into a special part of his brain to be remembered for the rest of his life.
You were a little brat was what you were.
Though you were only a toddler when he met you, having only just taken your first steps while he was already halfway through being eight, he found you to be the most insufferable little human he'd ever met.
Your parents would always gab and brag about what a good little girl you were; how you never cried or screamed, how you were sweet and patient and loving—a wonderful surprise for parents preparing for the "terrible two's.".
They had to be lying, because every time Ajax would come into view you'd immediately throw a fit, wailing and swiping at his face with a kind of rage an entire army of men could not match.
He had no idea why; he never touched you, or spoke to you, all he did upon your first meeting was draw back in repulse.
You weren't a pleasure to look at; with your beady little eyes and thick eyelashes that lined them, your thin eyebrows and piercing gaze. You looked like some haunted porcelain doll. And there was a certain consciousness behind your eyes that children your age were not supposed to have.
His little siblings were much cuter.
And he did not hesitate to say that.
"Tonia was a prettier baby. What's wrong with her?", he piped up, humiliating his mother and father who immediately scolded him for his rudeness. Your mother only laughed.
"Trust me, she'll be a beauty when she grows up. I won't be surprised when you come around here in sixteen years asking to marry her."
This started a little musing session between your mothers, giggling about the possibility of their children being wed and how wonderful that would be for their friendship and their families.
Meanwhile, Ajax was dwelling on how that would absolutely never happen—if the look on your face was any indicator.
You were red as a tomato, nose scrunched in distain as your eyes pierced his. Like you'd understood him.
How was he supposed to know babies could take offense?
Whether or not your infant brain could comprehend his words, your hatred was clear, and before he could react, your soft little hand went flying towards his face and landed with a resounding THWAP!
Even though you struck him, you immediately burst into tears, bawling crocodile tears that ran down your face and dripped off of your chin.
All of the adults in the room immediately ran to your aid, hushing and petting you while scorning Ajax for "tormenting the poor girl."
Never before had he felt so cheated.
That begun his feud with a two year old.
Your detest for one another ran deep. So much so that every gathering between your families ended in you receiving plenty of sneaky pinches to your fat baby skin and him risking a bald spot with the amount of hair you'd rip out of his head.
It was a nightmare you could walk too, since you'd often seek him out just to babble in annoyance and tug at the knee of his trousers.
"See? Look at how much she likes you!", his mother would coo, but he knew better. Your grappling with his pants was your pea-brained strategy to get him to bend down and remove you so you could bop him one on the nose.
He swore you were such a strong baby. He'd rather take a hit from a club than suffer the force that your tiny fists could bring down on his head.
That's why you were the perfect girl to be his wife
If he were to marry any other woman, the guilt of leaving her alone at home for long stretches of time, depriving her of having the good husband she deserves rather than a man who could never love her, would be overwhelming.
Sure, he was a monster, but he wasn't about to let some innocent bystander be collateral damage.
But you? The evil, horrible little wench you are? You more than deserved it.
In his mind, he'd actually be doing his fellow man a favor by saving an unsuspecting bachelor from accidentally marrying a grisly thing like you.
So, although his retainers were already in the process of scheduling meetings with his potential brides, he plucked your name from the list without hesitation.
"Set the wedding date. I'll have that one."
The organizers looked between themselves warily, deciding whether or not they should challenge him on this monumental decision.
"And nothing too grand—it'll just be family.", he cooly added, leaning back in his chair to rest his feet upon his desk and crushing the list of names under his dirty boots.
In the end, the harbinger always gets what he wants, so his retainers retreated with quiet nods and quick steps.
Though Childe acted aloof towards the decision to have you as his bride, when the day of the wedding actually arrived and he found himself standing at the altar of a small church in Mosepok—his home town, his palms were sweating and eyes darting around nervously. He shifted his weight on his feet as the congregation waited for you to enter; this was supposed to be a small ceremony, but leave it to his mother and father's proud announcements to their friends and neighbors to draw a crowd. As his eyes scanned the faces of those who'd known him in his youth, he realized near all of the small port town was packed into the pews. He wracked his brain for the answer as to why these people would want to watch their old town troublemaker's union, but he supposed it would be the most interesting thing to happen in the town since his era of delinquency.
It was a miracle that the budget the Fatui gave Childe for this wedding greatly superseded the amount he'd needed for the original plan of a small gathering; it was more than enough to feed the whole town for a night, which actually brought a flicker of joy to Childe's chest.
He was pleased that he could give back to the community that handled him like a family in his childhood.
But that flicker was immediately quenched when the creaking sound of the heavy oak doors that led into the chapel reverberated through the room—revealing the silhouette cast in white of his bride.
His stomach turned with anxiety. Childe had led battalions into what could be considered suicide missions if not for their miraculous victorious outcome, and yet, somehow, the fear he felt standing in front of a girl that, though she may not be small by definition, definitely looked so standing next to him, significantly surpassed that of which he's ever felt.
His cold body shook like he stood inches from death.
Suddenly, he remembered the fury your little body had when you were only a baby, and it dawned on him that you've only gotten bigger, smarter, stronger. A little arbiter of the apocalypse couldn't have grown into the meek woman he imagined, if anything, her bloodlust grew with age.
What did he get himself into? Was he an idiot? Did he, blinded by his scheming for revenge, land himself in a lion's den?
With a light tap on the shoulder from the priest, he jolted out of his stupor and found you standing in front of him already, suddenly remembering that he was now to lift your veil.
His hands shook as he reached out, bracing himself for the hideous face he'd been forced to associate with at every friendly gathering between your parents in childhood, and now, due to his own brashness, would have to associate with every time he returned home or attended public events.
He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as he took the fabric between his white-knuckled fingers and threw the thing up and over your head. The procession hummed with awe and approval—some more boisterous men from the docks whistling, to which their wives jabbed an elbow into their ribs.
The sounds of adoration resounding from the audience perplexed Childe, drawing his interest and encouraging him to open one wary eye and peek at you.
But his cautious peek grew into an owlish gawking and dropped jaw when the woman before him shined like an angel.
This couldn't have been the girl he knew in her infancy; her once-beady eyes now twinkled like stars, her red puffy face was now sculpted and the only remnants of her discoloration resided in dusted pink pigments on her cheeks. They were so perfectly placed that they could be mistaken for a painting by an artist with a keen eye. He pried his gaze from your enrapturing eyes to ogle your lips—plushy and inviting. He'd give anything to kiss a gorgeous woman like you.
And he remembered with an unexpected delight that he would by the end of this ceremony.
Before he knew it, the soft ring of your voice settled upon his ears. Having been caught in a trance, he hadn't realized the procession already arrived at your vows.
He only tuned in after the opening sentences of your declaration had passed, your words blurred by his reverie.
"I promise to wait for you when you go and embrace you when you return; to make a warm, solace of a home for you that you can always come back to, whether there be a roof over our heads or not. I promise to follow you through this life and meet you in the next, to be by your side when you need me, no matter how far apart we may be forced to exist. I promise to love you and only you, to be true as long as your ring encloses my finger, and promise to keep it there forever. I will take your family into my arms just as you will me, care for them—as they are an extension of you, to love them just as I do you. I'll hold you ever close to my heart, speak to you with nothing but kindness, recognize your face as that of my partner in life, my one and only, and..."
Childe jumped when he felt your warm hand sneak up on his and gingerly intertwine your fingers, to which he did not resist, nor want to.
"I promise to love you as you are; no matter how much the years we spend together may change us."
To his puzzlement, Childe felt a certain wetness roll down his cheek, causing him to look up at the skylight above the both of you to check if it was raining. When another droplet ran down the other side of his face, he realized he was crying.
Childe never cried, he couldn't even remember the last time it had happened; maybe it was sometime when he was a boy, but the memory simply did not exist. These were not tears shed in misery, they were spurred by your words of devotion, words he'd never been blessed with before. He truly wondered now if you may be divine, but all he beheld of you told him you were, in fact, human, and not a vision of absolution sent from the heavens above.
You tilted your head to the side and blinked your dollish eyelashes at him, obviously waiting for something, to which he remembered that is was now his turn.
He had neglected to write vows beforehand or memorize the traditional vows spoken by couples bound by marriage as an arrangement. He had, in fact, planned on skipping the process altogether, but your profession of love caught him off guard and incentivized him to speak his own.
So, with a blank mind, he resorted to letting the few truths he knew spill from his mouth.
"I'd only known you during our childhoods, but how you've blossomed and changed has..."
He had never been one for words, so making something up on the spot in front of quite literally a hundred people was daunting. His voice seized with trepidation, but he took a breath and moved forward.
"Has...left me speechless. My mind is empty, and all I can think of now is...that I am blessed."
He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued, struck by your endearing gaze on him—it made his voice quiver as it resounded from his chest.
"I'd assumed I knew you, but it's clear to me now that I have so much more to learn."
He unconsciously squeezed your hand for comfort, and, with a gentle smile on your face, you reassuringly squeezed back; making him sigh and yearn to feel more of you—imagining that you felt like warm cotton, soft and homey, something he could bury himself in and happily stay there for eternity.
"And I want to learn it. I...want to spend my whole life in awe of you, discovering as much as I can, knowing you like I know myself."
He could not hesitate before he blurted his next statement, his voice getting carried away from him and spilling his most personal beliefs.
"And loving you as you love me."
Your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, and your eyes glimmered as your perfect lips stretched into an even more enticing smile. He could hear your soft, happy sigh, a sound that not even the priest beside the two of you could catch, almost like a secret meant just for him.
Your sweetness enthralled him like nothing he'd ever experienced— slowly convincing him that you very well may be the best thing that's ever happened to him.
"I'll take care of you.", he promised, and meant it. "I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring your safety and happiness. Despite what you promised before, I will always put a roof over your head. You'll be forever warm and safe. I will fight for you, die for you, do anything you ask. You will want for nothing as long as you're mine."
His vow had come upon its conclusion with one final promise he all but growled, like it was somehow in danger of being broken—that he would go to any length to protect.
"And you will forever be mine."
His pause at the end indicated to the priest that the his vow had ended, and the way your lips parted in wonder and your wide eyes remained locked on his made him want to lean in and kiss you like every inch of his body burned to do. But he had to, begrudgingly, wait; hoping the ceremony would end as soon as possible so he could finally have you to himself and ask you all the questions he was dying for the answers to.
Did you really mean what you said? He sure did, and he didn't even know he had the capacity to not only promise, but want, desperately so, the fulfill the oaths he had declared to you.
Soon enough, the priest announced it was now time for the bestowing of the rings—a symbol of the bond you will share for eternity.
As the ring bearer, Childe's dear brother, Teucer, brought the rings resting on a white silk pillow over to the altar and held it over his head while he balanced on his tippy toes so the two of you could reach the rings with ease. Childe immediately felt awash in shame. All he'd purchased for you was a simple silver band—no precious gems, no original detailing, just a band. He didn't expect to want to take pride in the symbol of his loyalty you'd wear for him on your finger. He'd get you a new one, a better one—one he could admire as he kissed your hand, held it with adoration and smoothed his fingers over it.
But although the ring fell below expectations, there was no disappointment on your face. You barely glanced at it, your eyes trained on his face with a fondness he'd never received before. Your gaze had his heart spilling over with exaltation.
You took his hand in yours and slipped the perfectly fitted ring around his finger, giving it a small squeeze when you were done—as if to brand your affection deep into his hand.
He returned the gesture, taking your other hand in his and, carefully, securing the ring around your finger as well; he breathed a sigh of relief and felt a weight he hadn't known was resting on his shoulders alleviate. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to leap out in a desperate attempt to be ever closer to yours.
The priest spoke, but his voice was drowned out by Childe's inner voice, wailing for you.
All he could register was the sound of your silver bell-like voice, piercing through the fog in his head like a star's light in the void of the night sky above.
"I do.", you said.
He couldn't tell if he'd rushed ahead of the priest's announcement of his turn or not, but he followed your statement blindly.
"I do.", he whispered ardently, brushing the backs of those precious hands of yours softly with his thumbs.
After the final blurb recited by the priest, a sentiment he couldn't bring himself to listen to in his anticipation, he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for.
"You may now kiss the bride."
Without a moment of delay, he brought both of his hands up to cup your cheeks, a look of ache in his face as it felt like you had reached an invisible hand into his chest and gripped his heart, and kissed you.
Fervently, passionately kissed you.
It took your breath away, left you panting when he finally pulled away after remembering he was, in fact, in front of his parents and broader community.
But cheers sang from the crowd for your union as he led you back down the steps of the altar and out of the church, eyes trained on your feet with your hand secured in his—watching carefully as you descended to make sure you wouldn't fall. He treated you as if you were sculpted from crystal glass.
After the two of you crossed the threshold out of the church as one, Childe gently tugged your hand to draw you closer so that he could whisper in your ear.
"Could we take a walk in the garden?"
While the guests made their way to the reception hall for their lavish dinner, you and Childe strolled through the church's garden together, hands still intertwined as the two of you gazed at the various winter shrubs and evergreen trees sprinkled with snow. It was beautiful in its own kind of way; the way life persevered through otherwise uninhabitable conditions, how even the bear oak trees existed as intricate silhouettes against the grey sky—providing cover as the sun sank down and gave way to a grim dusk, it was wonderful, and in this moment, it was yours to share.
The two of you came to a halt at a marble bench next to a large, frozen fountain, adorned with swirling details and moulding from an older, more fanciful era. He swiped off the snow that had built on top of the bench, then removed his large, fur-lined cloak to rest on the surface. He led you down to sit on it, having fashioned a dry, warm seat for you as he stood.
"Won't you be cold?"
"I'll be fine.", he assured you. He'd grown used to the frigid air of his home country, having entered various conflicts with nothing but thin linen to cover him for the sake of his movements not being burdened by thick, heavy fabric.
"Thank you.", you spoke, softly, and the words warmed his chest more than any coat could.
He stood there for a long moment, just taking in the sight of you. He just couldn't believe you were real, and couldn't believe you were his at so little a cost—he'd done nothing but bellyache and pluck your name off of a paper, and somehow the situation ended up being the best decision of his life. He'd found someone that claimed to truly, deeply love him by sheer chance.
And that thought brought him to the question that had been weighing on his mind since your vows.
"Did you really mean what you said?", he asked, quietly, hesitantly. After the words left his mouth, he wished he'd never said them. He didn't want to know the answer; if he could live in a fantasy where a miracle like you truly adored him, he'd seize the opportunity and hold it close to his heart for the rest of his life. He felt like such a fool.
"Of course I did.", you chuckled, like the question was ridiculous.
"I thought you hated me.", he confessed, his curiosity for your change of heart getting the best of him when he knew better than to ask too many questions. You only quirked your head and blinked at him, indicating that he needed to clarify. "When we were younger, you acted like you wanted my head on a stick."
To that admission, you laughed heartily. It was a lovely sound, one his mind would no doubt play on repeat in his darkest of times, sending sparks to his heart that would keep him moving forward—back to you so he could hear it again and again. "I was a toddler, dear. I didn't understand my feelings! And you were pretty nasty to me, too.", you said with a playful, pointed look.
The term of endearment made his heart bubble, craving to hear you say it again, but his mind was desperate for more answers. "But...how did you...", he coughed awkwardly, "fall for me?".
His carefully spoken question only made you giggle once again, but you could understand his confusion.
"Oh, Ajax. You were the most entertaining person I've ever met. I know we fought, but I remembered your presence in my life so fondly. And I'd look at pictures of us from our old gatherings, where our parents would force you to hold me on your lap and smile, or take candid shots of us chasing each other around, and I'd wish for you to come back so we could fight again.", you laughed at the memory. "I thought of you all the time, you know. And, as I grew older and life passed by, I'd keep looking back on those photos and...", your cheeks turned even redder than the chilly air had already done, flushing your cheeks and nose. After this conversation, Childe would make sure to rush you inside so you could warm up by a hearth. "Well, my heart would beat for you. And I wished you would come back for different reasons...so I could see you again and fall in love with the man you've become."
Childe gulped in shame. He knew the man he'd become was...cruel. Wicked. He'd never thought so little of himself than when he stood before you, your glorious, pure eyes assessing him like Celestia would upon the day of his death.
But how you looked on at him was not in judgement, but affection. "And when I met you at the altar, I did. I truly did."
He was so swayed by your words, so caught up in your devotion, that though he knew he was undeserving, he leaned down and connected your lips with his once again; his large hands warmed you where they caressed your cheek and the side of your neck, his lips thawing your frozen ones. The flavor of you was intoxicating, but as much as he wanted to prolong this moment, your icy skin pushed him to get you inside immediately.
So he drew back, drawing the most angelic whine of protest from your lips. It made him grin in pride.
"Let's warm you up, huh?"
Though you wanted to stay in the privacy of this isolated garden, continue to live in this moment that only existed for the two of you, you couldn't deny how you shivered and your stomach growled. It was time for your reception, and you couldn't keep your guests waiting.
So you, albeit reluctantly, let Ajax pull you up into his arms and throw his cloak around the both of you before taking you back to the church where he married you, now entering sharing one heart, one life, one love. Forever.
#genshin x reader#childe x reader#genshin x you#genshin childe#genshin impact#genshin fluff#genshin ajax#childe x you#genshin tartaglia x reader#tartagalia x reader#tartaglia x you#tartaglia x reader#genshin tartaglia#childe angst#childe fluff#enemies to lovers#genshin childe x reader#childe genshin impact#childe imagines#childe x fem!reader#tartaglia x fem!reader#tartaglia fluff#tartaglia genshin impact#ajax genshin impact#tartaglia imagines#childe fanfiction#tartaglia fanfiction#genshin impact fanfics#genshin impact fluff#genshin imagines
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
꒰ 𐙚 keeping warm — genshin men ꒱
⟡ synopsis : as the days get shorter and the weather gets colder, your boyfriend has other ideas on how to keep warm.
⟡ characters : diluc, wriothesley, childe ( he's referred to as ajax in the fic )
⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, soft sex, riding, praising, size kink, squirting, creampie, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, gagging, edging
౨ৎ note : winter time shenanigans with genshin men ૮ • ﻌ - ა ‘tis the season !
୨୧ DILUC
❥₊ ⊹ after a late meeting with the knights of favonius in the dead of winter, you had unfortunately been caught in one of mondstadt's worst snow storms to date. the wind was blowing harshly and it burned your cheeks. when you had reached dawn wineary, diluc was already anxiously waiting near the front doors with thick blankets, clearly worried about you.
you were shivering, a lot, and diluc feared that the blankets may not do enough for you. so he led you by hand to the washroom to take a warm bath and sitting right behind you in the porcelin tub, pushing stray hairs away from your bare back to wash it. eventually when the two of you got out of the bathtub, you went to diluc's bedroom, hoping that skin to skin contact will warm you up once again.
it started off as innocent cuddling surrounded by blankets, with diluc being the bigger spoon but feathering touches turned into wanderering hands which turned into diluc's large hands leading your hips up and down his thick cock.
"ah... that's it baby..." he moans into your neck, moving one of his hands to your lower back, pushing you closer into him.
he was warm, whether it be from his body conserving heat better than yours or his pyro vision resting on the bedside table to the right of you, you don't know what it is but the warmth felt good.
you continue to ride him, your pussy milking his cock for all it's worth while your clit is rubbing against his abdomen deliciously. soon, a layer of sweat formed on both of you bodies.
"mphm! diluc..." you whine softly, pulling away to look at his face and his crimson eyes are filled with lust but also love, so much love.
"yeah? what is it, love?" he asks, his hands coming up to gently hold your face between them and his fingers brushing some hair away from your eyes. "is something wrong?"
"kiss me, please." you beg.
and he obliges, pressing a sweet kiss on your soft lips then moaning in your mouth when you resume riding him. "fuck, love you so much."
"l-love you too, diluc. s'much. love you so much!" you cry out as diluc lifts you up and starts pistoning his cock erratically in your oozing cunt. your back reacts to the overwhelming amount of pleasure by arching, causing your chest to press against his.
diluc's grip on your waist grew tighter as he neared his orgasm, now all he needed was to feel you cum on his cock. "so good, sweetheart... love your pussy... love you..." he mumbles, pressing open mouth kisses to your collarbone. then his cock hit that spongy spot deep inside you and caused you to spiral into your once impending orgasm.
you sobbed as you came, grabbing a hold of diluc's hair as you shook from the sheer amount of pleasure he gave you. from feeling your body shake and your cunt contract around him, diluc's orgasm reached it’s peak and you felt his cock twitch inside of you before his seed flooded your womb.
୨୧ WRIOTHESLEY
❥₊ ⊹ once winter hits in fontaine, there tends to be less to do in the fortress of meropide. there's no work to do, no herbs to gather for sigewinne because all the plants on the surface are dead for the season, and the production of parts for mekas has slowed down immensely. the sanctum becomes dull, boring, and cold. extremely cold. which is why you're thankful for the fireplace that wriothesley had installed in his office.
the warmth from the burning wood accompanied by the warmth, and pleasure, your boyfriend was providing you was perfect.
"doing so good for me, princess..." he groans, he has you on your back on the blue chesterfield placed in front of the fireplace, legs resting around his wide waist while he splits you open with his thick cock.
"hng... w-wrio, shit!" you moan, wriothesley's pace was unrelenting. he didn't care if anyone heard how loud you were being, the messy sounds of him fucking you amazingly was already reverberating throughout the room.
wriothesley had a strong grip on you, fingertips digging almost painfully into your hips. you felt fucking incredible, your sloppy little cunt was practically dragging him deeper and begging for him to cum inside. to fill you completely, to mark you as his.
each thrust into your pussy was calculated, precise, and accentuated, making the mix of your arousal and wriothelsey's precum ooze out from inside of you. he could tell that you were going to cum soon, you were moaning louder, your fingers were leaving red, hot, angry lines in their wake on the lateral muscles of his back, and you were clamping down impossibly tighter on his cock.
"y'gonna cum soon, baby? good fucking girl. cum all over my dick. make a mess." he coos, pulling his cock almost completely out, leaving only his tip in before ramming it back inside of you.
"mhm! gonna cum! wrio, oh m'god!" you hiccup, then moan louder as he brings one of your legs to rest on his broad shoulders with one hand while the other reaches down and toys with your clit.
the knot in your stomach finally snaps and you cry out as you cum hard, and everywhere. your arousal covered wriothesley's cock and lower abdomen, nearly soaking him completely. tears begin to flood your eyes at the intensity of your orgasm and wriothesley continuing to fuck you, "please, please cum inside." you babble.
"oh, fuuuck." wriothesley moans, fucking into you at a quicker pace to reach his orgasm. then when he cums, warmth spreads across your stomach and you feel him covers your walls in white.
when wriothesley pulls out of your messy pussy, a string of yours and his arousal is connected to his cock. "i really made a mess of you, huh?" he chuckles.
"shut up!" you laugh, sitting up and throwing a pillow at him.
୨୧ CHILDE
❥₊ ⊹ while it's well known about the rigid extremities of winters in snezhaya, and not being from there, they felt particularly more... harsh, on you because you're not used to them.
so when childe asked you to come with him to visit his family for the holidays, you thought you were prepared by packing and wearing extra layers but you were proved very, very wrong. and because your boyfriend is ever so caring, he realized how much you were struggling to conserve heat and brought up another idea on how to keep you warm.
"a-ajax... we shouldn't, your family is in the other room." you weakly protest, clearly not completely against his idea because when he pulls down your panties, almost pathetically a string of arousal is connected to them.
"yeah?" he chuckles, "your pussy says otherwise, babe."
"don't say things like that!" you whisper-yell.
"mhm... whatever you want..." childe mumbles, too enamored by your glistening cunt. "i'm putting it, okay?"
"'kay..." you say, your hands tightly grab at the counter in the washroom when you feel how his thick cock sinks into you. "o-oh..."
"shiiit... you sure you didn't want to do this?" he teases before bottoming out completely.
"hng!" you begin to moan out before childe puts two fingers in your mouth.
"i know baby, i know... but you gotta stay quiet..." he lightly scold, still thrusting his cock in and out of your sopping pussy. "so fucking pretty. prettiest girl in the world. so lucky you're all mine." childe watches the way the your ass recoils at each snap of his hips like he's in a trance, truly you were a sight to see.
he was reaching so deep inside of you and you wish you could scream it to the high heavens. your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the stimulation, you could feel your slick and his cum make a mess between your thighs and you didn't know how much longer your legs could hold you up.
as if he could read your mind, childe pulls out abruptly and you whine at the loss of contact before he manhandles you into turning around and picking you up to have half of your ass on the edge of the counter.
"wrap your legs around my waist..." he whispers in your ear and you do so. childe thrust the entire length of his cock back into your cunt and your arms fling around his neck, grabbing at the short hairs of his head.
"o-oh my god... ajax!" you sob, trying to grab onto anything or everything to keep you anchored onto him. his pace was erratic and you swore at the angle he was fucking you at, you could feel him in your stomach.
"so. fucking. tight." childe growls in your ear. even though the two of you were trying to be quiet, the sounds of skin on skin was filling the room with your silent moans. and the tie in your stomach was about to snap, you were about to cum, hard.
"fuck, fuck, fuck... 'm cumming, a-ajax! oh my go—-" and then he stopped.
"what? why did you do that?" you begin to question until childe put his finger to his mouth and hushing, then thats when you heard it.
knock! knock! knock!
"ajax, sweetie? is y/n alright in there?" you hear childe's mom on the other side of the door.
"yeah, mom!" he yells back. "she's just a little cold!"
flseur © all rights reserved, do not repost, take inspo from my layouts or themes, translate, or claim as your own.
#𐙚 works#genshin impact#diluc x reader#wriothesley x reader#tartaglia x reader#childe x reader#diluc x you#wriothesley x you#tartaglia x you#childe x you#diluc smut#wriothesley smut#tartaglia smut#childe smut#genshin#genshin smut#genshin x reader#genshin x you
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
18+ MDNI
Needy!men Are the type of guys to be brimming with attraction for you, to beg for your attention just a touch, a kiss, a stroke had them begging for more. They want- No they require all of you, when you embrace them in a hug it takes every cell in their body, to ground them back to reality understanding this is a public place.
Needy!men Who trail their hands along your thigh under the table while occasionally give you side glances just waiting for you to stir, as their friends continue to indulge in conversation with the both of you.
Needy!men That even why they're balls deep in you keep telling you how much they need you, as if the merciless pounding wasn't proof enough. The way he pinned you down into the mattress with his body to feel close along with intimate with.
Needy!men That take you on any surface when you get home, holding you up, pinning you down or helping you balance. Letting out a mix between a whine along with a groan as he finished deep inside, filling you to the very brim.
"You can go for another round, yes?"
¡! ❞ Itto, Tighnari, Cyno, Gorou, Kaeya, Childe/ Tartaglia, Xiao, Zhongli
-‘๑’-Note; Next drabble coming soon….,If you have any characters you want me to cover in my next post(Or any request/ prompt for that matter) please lmk via question bar (Renamed Q&R), Comments or my Inbox
Please excuse me for taking a slight hiatus and not doing a part 2(yet) to romance in the bedroom. I literally gave birth so.
#afab!reader#black!reader#chubby!reader#drabble#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#oneshot#smut#itto smut#itto x you#tighnari smut#tighnari x you#cyno smut#cyno x you#kaeya smut#kaeya x you#childe smut#childe x you#tartaglia smut#tartaglia x you#xiao smut#xiao x you#zhongli smut#zhongli x you
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
childe is a dirty bastard with a nasty obsession for you. he finds you so beautiful, so gorgeous and filled to the brim with visual blessings. he can’t help how his cock grows and hardens at the sight of your filled out frame and he can’t leave himself that way . . . so he jerks off. wraps his calloused hand around his thick cock and drags it up and down with shut eyes and a gaped mouth, imagining it was your soft hands making him feel good. he did this often, hiding in bathrooms or waiting until he gets home and releasing all over his sheets. but at some point, it’s not enough.
so, if you ever get a text from your good friend childe, reading “attachment: 1 video”, don’t be surprised when you see his cock sliding in and out of a fuck doll. the sound is lewd and nasty—squelching and wet slapping that rings off in unison with his grunts and pretty moans. he moans your name, groping the fake tits of the doll, “so fucking pretty for me . . . ngh, fuck—“ he had to let you know how he felt. what you do to him. so he raises the angle of his phone, showing the tablet that displays a selfie of you—one you sent to him when asking him which lipstick shade looked better on you. he groans louder, pounding the doll even furiously, “you’re gonna make me fuckin’ cum . . .”
he said he wanted to breed that tight cunt and make you his. you hadn’t even realized the video was three minutes long and you were nearing the end. he whimpers as he pounds tougher, snapping his hips against the doll with sniffles of your name and begs for his release. and then he cums. spills his seed deep in the doll with a guttural moan and fucked up camera angle as he doubles over. there’s a shuffling sound and then you can see clearly: see the load of cum spilling out of the doll, and he fingers the spill back in, moaning at the sight. “‘ts gonna be you next . . .” he murmurs, and the video ends.
you never saw him that way. he was your friend. but that promise he made at the end had your cunt throbbing, waiting for that treatment.
#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#minors & ageless blogs do not interact.#genshin x you#genshin fanfic#genshin headcanons#genshin smut#genshin imagines#childe x fem!reader#childe x reader#childe smut#childe scenarios#tartagalia smut#tartaglia x you#tartagalia x reader#tartaglia x reader#PLEASE DONT REPORT!!! ♡
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ EVERWINTER WITHOUT MERCY — TARTAGLIA.
contents. fluff + established relationships, fishing with ajax’s siblings bc they’re everything <3, ajax being a terrible flirt lolsjdjd, he’s implied to be taller than reader, gn! reader, kisses in the snezhnayan cold <3
he’s done it again, you think exasperatedly—teucer’s neck is bare as he walks through the harsh snow, the fabric of his scarf hanging loosely from his shoulders.
“hey, make sure you keep this around your neck,” you scold, wrapping the scarf tightly around teucer’s neck, “you’ll catch a cold.”
he groans a little—but he’s a good kid, listens to you when you tell him enough times, leaning into your hand as you ruffle his hair. you smile fondly as you look down—and then a weight presses against you from behind.
“yeah, teucer,” ajax hums, “you don’t want to catch a cold, do you?”
“i won’t,” the younger boy insists, “colds are for the weak.”
ajax laughs. you can feel the rumble from his chest against your back as he murmurs, “it’s colder than usual teucer. make sure you keep it on.”
“that goes for you too, y’know,” you huff, spinning around to stare unimpressed at him as his own scarf is loose around his neck—ajax has the decency to at least attempt to look guilty.
“oh, i guess you’re right,” he nods, “can’t set a bad example for the kids.”
“and you can’t get sick,” you scoff, “i’m not in the mood to get sick from you.”
“i never get sick,” he says confidently with a wave of his hand, “but—” he starts with a drawl. his words as sickeningly sweet, enough to make your head spin a little from how decadent it is, “it does always stay in place when you do it.”
of course. he’s loosened it on purpose, just so you’ll wrap it for him. he’s exhausting, just a bit—as sly as he is painfully obvious, and it never ceases to make your eyes roll in that way he loves. in that way that makes him chuckle as he leans down a little closer, brows raised.
so you sigh—but there’s the beginning of a smile on your face, the start of a giggle in your voice as you say, “honestly, ajax. you’re shameless.”
“am i?” he grins, hands finding your hips as you reach over and secure the scarf around his neck.
it’s gentle, the way you touch him. the way you carefully work the fabric around his neck. the way you make sure it’s just tight enough to stay in place so he doesn’t catch a cold, but not so tight that it’s uncomfortable.
not many people touch ajax gently—he doesn’t want them to, even. he needs the rush of people giving him their worst, just so he knows he can give it back tenfold. but you…well, he likes that soft way you trace his cheek with your thumb. that careful way you brush a few strands of hair from his face and admire his eyes for a moment.
they’re cold most of the time, his eyes—dead without a shine. not around you, though. in fact, you think the stars create themselves right there in his pupils and reflect across the sky. it makes being away from him a little less unbearable, you suppose: when it feels like the stars are his and he brings them to you.
it makes it feel like he’s not so far away.
“there,” you mumble quietly, cupping his cheeks once you’re done. he looks adorable, you think, wrapped tightly in a long coat and a thick, red scarf. he looks comfortable enough that you can’t help but squeeze his cheeks together a bit as you giggle. “all warm,” you smile.
“but my lips, i’m afraid,” he sighs dramatically, “are achingly cold in this harsh, snezhnayan weather. if only there was some way to warm them up.”
he eyes your lips hungrily—a little thirsty in a way that makes you wonder just how insatiable ajax really is. something about him always seems thirsty for more, always ready to devour in a way that makes you wonder if there’s a side to him you haven’t quite yet seen. a more carnal one, perhaps. or maybe, one that’s helplessly in love, that he never quite gets enough.
you like to think it’s the latter.
“teucer is right there, ajax,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”
“so now it’s a crime to show affection to those you love?” he gasps, “you want teucer to grow up unable to show his true feelings?”
“no,” you deadpan, “i want teucer to grow up less of a handful than you.”
“i’ll be less of a handful if you warm my lips,” he chuckles, boyish and young and all the things he should be. all the things the world should let him be. “they’re bitterly numb, right now.”
and…well, you can’t deny him—you never could. so you shake your head and trace the swell of his cheek one more time with your thumb, rubbing warmth back into his skin even as the harsh blows of frigid air slice against him.
it’s cold in snezhnaya. it always is. it’s warm in your hold. it never won’t be.
“you’re insufferable,” you huff through a laugh.
and then you kiss him, delicately so. your lips press against his perfectly enough that it never felt like he was away. it feels like you kissed him yesterday and the day before that. it’s so familiar, you don’t need to ingrain the feeling into your memory for when he inevitably leaves again. you’d never forget the way ajax feels—not how he tastes or sounds when you meet him, skin to skin.
he hums against you, traces circles into your hips with his thumbs as he pulls you closer by the waist.
it’s cold in snezhnaya. it always is. it’s bearable in ajax’s warmth. it never won’t be.
“much better,” he nods as he pulls away, “i feel warm already. but you should stay close by…you know, just in case i get cold again.
“well, lucky for you—”
“are we going to fish now?” teucer calls, tonia and anthon waiting patiently in the distance. ajax sighs—you giggle, leaning closer and pressing one last peck to his lips.
“well, let’s not keep them waiting,” you grin, “i’ll keep you warm later.”
he grins widely at that, raising a brow. “is that so? well then, i’ll hold you to that.”
he has stolen my heart and i am deeply unwell. painfully. sickeningly. psychotically. unwell.
#teepods.writings#drabbles.#tartaglia x reader#tartaglia x you#tartaglia fluff#childe x reader#childe x you#childe fluff#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin fluff#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact fluff
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
dew mornings and the bond of eternity – tartaglia [nsfw]
synopsis: your angel of a boyfriend makes sure that you know just how well loved you are
notes: for my favorite harbinger, idk what this is but breaking my fic virginity for him with this :]
warnings: fem!reader, reader is insecure, russian pet names, mating press, childe has a foul mouth, biting and marking, slight possession, praise, childe is called by his real name, slight oral fixation, implied oral (female receiving), he is extremely lovesick
you never learned to what extent someone could go when being attentive and observant until you met your boyfriend.
you hate how ajax is able to notice the slightest changes in your mood. you would say he knows you like the back of his hand, but it’s something more than that. almost like the two of you are fused at the souls. bonded for eternity.
so in the dew morning hours when you’re just a little bit quieter, a little more somber as he makes you both breakfast on one of his rare days off, he’s able to notice right away.
he notices your eyes don’t quite catch his own as he jokes about some silly thing one of his siblings did weeks ago, how your smile falters instead of shining bright the way that he loves to see, how you pick at your fingers and gnaw on your lip in thought.
“ptichka?” he hovers over you, taking your face in his hands and pulling you from your thoughts. his cerulean eyes scan you thoroughly. “did you not sleep well?”
“it’s nothing, it was just a silly little dream.” you wave off, smiling weakly. not a lie, technically.
ajax clicks his tongue. stubbornly, he leans into you, the smell of pine and mint following him. “it can’t be silly if it has you upset like this and you’re losing sleep.”
there is no way of lying to ajax. you know this well. he’s a big brother to three siblings, and he’s too good of a detective to be deceived. but that’s to be expected of a harbinger.
after a long, apprehensive pause, you sigh.
“…i had a dream that you cheated on me.” you confess, lowering your gaze to the floor. “and that you left me for someone better.”
it’s stupid. absolutely and utterly ridiculous. ajax has shown you enough love to spill over into your next life. and the next one after that. you could die and come back a thousand times, and there’d still be traces of him left on you. so to tell him this brings you great shame.
the question is, what caused the dream? guilt? shame? maybe you feel he does so much for you, that you’re lacking as a partner. that you could do better.
you wait silently for him to yell, for some sort of outburst to come. but you’re only met with surprise when you feel his hand on your chin.
“can you please look at me?” his voice is soft, and eyes softer as he finally is able to make eye contact with you. he’s so gentle. warm. he only looks at you with love and patience. “thank you, lisichka.”
“i may not have done anything wrong, and i would never cheat—“ he continues with a stern expression, “but i still need you to understand where my feelings lie with you.”
you start to shake your head, “i already know, ‘jax, you have never made me feel like i need to doubt you. i know how much you love me. i promise. i have no idea why i had the dream…but it just made me sad when i woke up.”
you don’t mean to lie about your hidden insecurities, but it’s not a conversation you want to have at the moment. you’d rather just enjoy the time you have currently with your boyfriend peacefully.
luckily, ajax overlooks your fib. he hums, kissing your temple, “how about after we eat, i run us a bath? and we do one of those face masks that you like? something to decompress.”
and for the first time today you smile and agree.
unfortunately it appears ajax is taking your earlier sentiments much more seriously than you thought.
as all dreams and nightmares are short term memory, you long forgot about what it was that made you upset, back to your usual self after the bath.
ajax swaddled you up in a clean towel, and just like he said, did face masks with you. it always makes you giggle seeing your boyfriend using one of your spa headbands to push his hair back. soon both your faces were shiny and clean. refreshed and replenished, you felt brand new.
but little did you know you were now in the jaws of a shark.
you didn’t make it to the bedroom. well, you did, but you didn’t pick up on the ginger’s ulterior motive the minute he kissed your cheek as you sat on the bathroom counter. he carried you to the bedroom, and that’s where it all fell apart.
“‘j-jax—“ you hiccup, gripping tightly onto his bicep. your figure is trembling against his, skin damp with sweat and glued impossibly closer to his.
so much for the bath.
“s-slow down…”
your boyfriend has been at it for awhile now, pummeling your poor insides with his fat cock over and over. the room reeks with the smell of sex, wet sounds imprinted into your mind. you can never forget just how great he makes you feel.
“no,” he huffs, fingers digging into your hips, “you’re not leaving this bed until i’m sure of it.”
confusion resides in you. what exactly is ‘it’?
he’s already worshipped you plenty with just his fingers and tongue. but you don’t dare challenge the primal look in his eyes. he’s absolutely greedy, not even letting you move to take care of him in return in anyway.
you yelp once feeling your lover’s teeth nip into your skin. his tongue laves over the offended area before he kisses the skin.
“how could i find someone better, when there’s not a single person more beautiful or amazing than you?” he pants, pulling away to look at you. his thumb traces your cheek tenderly and his cobalt eyes are trained on your fucked out expression.
“especially when your pussy feels this good? that’s just a bonus.” he rambles, groaning. his hips knock into yours more harshly and you wail.
“you’d have to kill me to separate us.” he admits darkly, but something tells you that even death wouldn’t stop him.
“‘dun want that, want you forever.” you say, clinging impossibly tighter to him.
ajax coos, kissing your nose, “and you have me. because you’re enough. you always will be. you’re perfect.”
his answer satisfies you and you’re kissing him again, nearly having tears permeate at the ducts of your eyes.
he laughs, grinning against you mouth, “milaya, you’re about to cum, aren’t you?”
“i-i” your words still fail to completely return to you but you nod rapidly.
understanding, he taps your bottom lip.
“open,” he commands.
falling in line, ajax pushes his fingers in your mouth. you feel your face heat up from how you taste yourself on him.
“good girl,” he praises, “always so sweet for me, hmm?”
you’re drooling on him, nodding and humming around his fingers with a hazy look in your eyes.
there’s a certain light in his own eyes that only appears when he’s with you, and with the way he is looking at you with complete adoration, you feel absolutely special.
“oh, look how much you’re quivering, you’re almost there. come on.” your boyfriend studies your movements, fucking you with slower, deeper thrusts.
the breath from your lungs nearly escapes you, and you feel a burning feeling in your chest. you’re creaming so much on him that it’s impossible not to hear the lewd noises coming from between your legs.
every sound seems to drive the ginger crazier. “one more, just one more for me, angel and i’ll let you be.” he coaxes, fingers moving again.
“i’m…i’m tired.” you sniff.
“i know, but you look so pretty when you cum. just one more? pretty please? can’t get over how you look. so beautiful…”
his constant praise is enough to make you cum once more, so hard that it blinds you. your mouth falls open in silent awe.
ajax groans, watching you come undone and hissing at the way you’re clamping up on his cock. it should be a crime how good you feel, because he could ever get enough of it.
there’s only a moment before he remembers he still needs to cum, and then he’s pawing and begging.
“fuck, let me cum in you…please…” his face is buried in your neck and a small whimper escapes him once he grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together.
he’s shivering and hot, and his cock is extremely sensitive. every drag of himself against your walls drives him insane. he’s dizzy, nearly delirious with how much he’s holding back.
“wanna fill you up so badly, please lisichka.” he continues, pressing searing kisses to your shoulder. “want you leaking with all of my cum…want all of it in you.”
you don’t think he’s looking at you while he babbles and pleads to breed you, and you shiver at how predatory he looks at your lower abdomen. you lock your legs tighter around him, ignoring the overstimulation creeping up in you.
“yes, ajax. please. w-want all your cum. want you to fill me up!” you whine, a sound that makes his heart and cock swell all at the same time.
your next words startle him even further.
“i love you.”
and he snaps.
“hah—ah, fuck!” ajax curses, hips stuttering in their pace. he groans loudly, feeling himself spill into you. there’s spots in his vision from how hard he’s cumming and he wonders if this is what celestia is.
you gasp, jerking when warmth spreads throughout all of you. you can feel the throbbing of your boyfriends cock and his heavy load.
coming down from both of your highs, the two of you laugh.
“you surprise me every time.” you tease quietly, eyeing a bite mark on your thigh.
the ginger looks bashful, hiding his face in your shoulder. “sorry…didn’t mean to be so rough…”
“if i wanted you to stop at anytime, i would’ve told you.” you reassure, petting his head.
he plants a kiss on your skin. “good. and for the record, i love you too.” he murmurs. “feel better?”
“i felt better after the delicious breakfast you made, but you took it a couple of steps further like you always do.” you giggle, leaning into his chest.
ajax grins, kissing the crown of your head, “well, i could tell something else was on your mind, but you weren’t telling me.”
“you know me way too well. it’s terrifying.”
he puffs his chest out, “what can i say? i can and will only provide the absolute best for you.”
“i don’t like leaving you alone for as long as i do…i will try to get them to let me take work closer to home.” he adds, playing with your fingers.
and the beam on your face is all worth it. “really?”
“really. i’m not around a lot for you to do things for me, and i get why you may feel that you need to be better. but i adore you just how you are. i’m sorry for not being more present.”
“it’s okay, i understand.” you hum, kissing his chin.
ajax hums with appreciation before leaning down and chasing your lips, hungrily wanting to taste you all over again.
his demanding presence has you melting into him as you mesh together, tongues locking to consume the taste of yourselves.
suddenly he’s dragging you by the hips to the edge of the bed.
“w-what are you—“
“m’not done with you. far from it.” you barely can form another question before ajax is sliding back into you. a crude squelch follows.
the harbinger kisses your bare ring finger. “say, i think we should elope. what do you think about starting a family?”
key: ptichka = ‘little bird’, lisichka = ‘little fox’, milaya = ‘my dear’
#tartaglia x reader#tartaglia x you#childe x reader#childe x you#genshin childe#genshin tartaglia#tartaglia smut#childe smut#genshin impact#genshin smut#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin oneshot#genshin impact oneshot
826 notes
·
View notes
Text
cw: yandere themes, baby trapping
"Mother, why don't you love me?"
Your daughter is five years old and she asks this question every single day. You look indifferently at the child standing in front of you, who resembles you like two peas in a pod. She's your exact copy, and it would seem that there wasn't a single difference between the two of you. But the ginger strand of hair in her braid would never allow you to forget who her father was.
The girl is patiently waiting for your answer, but you continue to remain silent because you have nothing to say to her. You were surprised by her tenacity and insistence in wanting to know what you felt for her, like a mother for her daughter. Unfortunately, you lost your tenacity and insistence a long time ago.
"It's okay, solntse moyo. Your mother isn't feeling well right now." A sickeningly cheerful voice reaches your ears, because of which all your insides curl into a big lump, and you feel like you're going to throw up. Ajax picks your daughter up and smiles when your eyes meet his. "When she gets better, she'll definitely tell you how much she loves you."
Your daughter happily cuddles up to the ginger man, happy that soon she will finally be able to hug you and tell you how much she loves you. Your husband hugs your daughter tighter, his blue dead empty eyes look straight into your soul. Only two out of three know that you will never get better.
` Author’s notes: solntse moyo (rus.) means my sun.
so how was it? i hope it didn't turn out too bad. i've never written about yandere theme before, but this sketch has been in my mind for a while 🤭
#genshin impact#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact x reader#genshin headcanons#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin x you#genshin impact imagines#childe x reader#childe x y/n#childe x you#tartaglia x reader#tartaglia x you#tartaglia x y/n#yandere x reader#yandere childe#yandere tartaglia#yandere genshin x reader#yandere childe x reader#yandere childe x you
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
valentines gone wrong ft. childe, scara, and neuvilette
a/n: yes. you read that right valentines work on september!! this is just something random i wanna write one day when i'm lying down and ofc i can't wait until february next year (also how is it alr almost 2 months since i posted something???)
tags: just fluff, light-read, and everything in-between, modern au (?) just don't think too much abt it hehe
-
summary: it's valentines and of course you have plans to give sweets to your lover. however because one thing and another, you had to entrust it to someone else in hope it will be handed safely to them.
what happened when it didn't?
childe
you went home excited, anticipating his reaction to your handmade sweets, however what greets you at the door was a sulky childe, who avoided eye contact as if his life depended on it as he limits himself to a a sentence everytime you ask him something.
“something happened today, babe?” you asked him worriedly, the chocolate was the back of your mind seeing the state of your boyfriend in. “oh something definitely should have happened,” he quipped, his lower mouth sticking out slightly. “that sounds like a dig at me, did i forgot something?” you asked as you follow his gaze to what he thought must be the most interesting flower vase ever. he shrugged, refusing to give you more.
frustrated by his rejection to tell you what’s wrong, you held his face with both of your palm, turning his face to yours. although the move met no resistance, childe still refused to look at you in the eyes and only now his childish grumbles turned into such a sad expression.
“baby? please tell me what i did,” you were gentle with it, rubbing your thumb below his eyes. “...late.”
“what?”
“chocolate. where’s mine? i saw you gave your friends one so i don’t think im crazy to expect one too, especially as your boyfriend.” he pouted and you swore it looked so adorable and so out-of-character of him that you wanted to kiss him—wait.
“huh? but i did give you one!” you claimed, confusion rose inside you. “huh? but i didn’t get it...” childe’s face matched your expression. “well technically i gave it to scara to give it to you.. did he not... give it to you?”
“i wouldn’t be this insufferable if i got one, you know that, but no he didn’t say anything—and also really babe? scara? the guy who hates and made fun of me every chance he got?” he crossed his arm, raising an eyebrow, as he questioned your questionable decision-making. “hey give me a break, i was in a rush there thinking i couldn’t give you the chocolate in time. and he made me say please three times before he said he would consider doing it-oh i see how i was wrong there.” your line of ramble humbled you, the silence was loud.
“maybe he just put it in your bag or something?” you offered. “you really think he’s someone who’d do that?” he asked. “in desperate times i’d give even scara the benefit of the doubt,” you stated, opening childe’s bag. and there it was, put nicely at the very top, your chocolate for your lover.
you smiled, for all the shit-talk scara gave everyone on a daily basis you knew you could count on him. “see? i knew he’s actually a big softie for stuff like this.”
childe practically runs to your side. “my chocolate? aw babe so you really didn’t forget me!” he peppered kisses all over your face, then clasping the sweet to his chest like it’s a new-born baby. “of course i’d never. but maybe next year i’ll just give it directly to you.”
“yeah? please do, today’s event just wasn’t great for my heart.”
neuvilette
“welcome home, dear.” you greeted him cheerily as he just arrived home. it was quite late, and you had entrust the chocolate you were supposed to give to him at a reasonable hour so he could enjoy it instead of giving it to him at home.
he kissed your temple in return, a smile you’re still head over heels for on his lips. but it doesnt quite reach his eyes.
“what’s wrong?” you asked carefully. “nothing is wrong,” he replied, somehow looking nervous. “yet it’s strange for you to be looking so fidgety. tell me?”
“well,” he paused a little, stroking your hair as he pondered the best way to approach the sentence he’s about to say. “i saw you today giving chocolates to navia and wriothesley.. i couldn’t talk to you because i was in a rush to deal with an urgent case,” he said, not looking at you on the eyes. “oh, did that bother you? it’s just they’re such good friends of mine and it’s only friendship cookies-“
“no, dear of course not. i know you’re a loving person who always appreciate those around you, it’s just..”
“just?”
neuvilette looked like he didn’t hear the rest of the words after that you did make some for the white-haired male. a smile bloomed on his face as he shook his head. “no problem i will ask them about it tomorrow. i’m just delighted you kept me in your thoughts.” a gentle expression was loyal on his features. “well of course neuvillete, you hardly ever leave my thoughts, don’t you know?” he chuckled. “i’m familiar with that you see, considering you never leave mine as well.”
the next sentence was almost audible as he spoke. “do i not get one..?” he asked ever so softly sounding a little sad, his calloused hand ran across your arm, tracing along your vein as it touched your fingers and you're sure there's something wrong in your head because all you could think about that second was how adorable the usual charismatic man was being. yet you held your smile.
“of course you do! did it not reach you? i asked the guard in front of your door because i afraid i’d bother you at work hours. sorry neuvilette, i promised i made some for you, and i was so proud of it too...”
scara
“no i’m not.” he said, with the worst frown you’ve seen on him for a while and that’s saying a lot.
“you’re definitely sulking,” you said. “shut up,” he grumbled. “hey i was supposed to be one who’s doing the sulking. we’re nearing the end of the day and you haven’t even mentioned about the chocolate i gave you today!” you retorted out of frustration but most of all confusion because you had no idea what made your lover fall into such a bad mood.
“what.”
“what?”
“say that again,” scara said, “that i gave you chocolate?” you asked. “no you didn’t, you liar!” he complained, his frown deepened if that’s even possible. “wait what? i swear i asked childe to give it to you earlier today! i was ambushed by customers today at the shop so i was scared i couldn’t give it to you on time so i asked him. did it not get to you?” you explained.
“i came home empty-handed didn’t i? also really, that dense fool?” his displeasure was obvious upon the new information you couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. “don’t look so disgusted, he’s not that bad.”
“sure, although you know what’s bad? that i don’t have my chocolates right now.” he crossed his arm, fuming almost looking like a child who got their toys taken. “alright enough of your pouting. we’ll interogate him later. for now, i seem to have leftover ingredients, i’ll make you a new one.” you approached him, combing through the back of his hair as you planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. he replied by pulling you closer as he nuzzled into your neck. “it better be good,” he mumbled.
at the end you didn’t even make it to 5 minutes before scara followed you to the kitchen, insisting that he made it together too because he was ‘watching over you so you don’t mess up’ but personally i think he just felt bad because you need to make a new one and wanted to help you any way he can. that’s something he’d never admit even if there’s a gun pointing at his head, though.
#genshin x reader#genshin scenarios#genshin impact x you#genshin impact x reader#genshin fanfic#genshin x you#genshin fluff#childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#tartaglia x y/n#tartaglia x you#neuvilette x reader#scara x reader#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#wanderer fluff
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
— 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞…
(or, in other words, promises of their dedication to you.)
✦ featuring: childe, kaeya, xiao, zhongli, kazuha.
✦ warnings: none, just the smallest smidgens of angst in some places.
✦ notes: so, this is a really old work i posted on my first blog that i'm proud of sjhhjs i found it a while ago and decided to rework it a little!! (i haven't changed too much of the original though, just tweaked some sentences and added and subtracted.)
…i’d pull hell and heaven to their knees at your feet, and i’d kneel alongside them (if I could. oh, if only i could).
childe wants to give you the world and more.
he’s almost reverent in his devotion to those he loves, seeking to please beyond all else, and what he holds toward you is no different. at merely a blink of your eyes, he’d bring you the sun and the stars, weave moonlight into fabric and find a chunk of the most beautiful emerald you’ve ever laid eyes on, and he does it all with a wink and a smile and a ‘you need only ask, dear,’
and it is true, you need only ask for him to lay out the world for you.
but alas, there is only so much fate will allow him to do. his heart and soul may rest in your palms, but he is duty bound to the tsaritsa.
ajax can promise you everything in the world, just not himself.
he cannot promise you himself in his entirety, he cannot promise you an ajax without his secrets, without an always existing barrier in between you.
no matter how desperately he wants to.
…i’d stand bare in your light, arms asunder, abandoning my secrets and shedding the shadows i once called home.
kaeya alberich fears trust.
he’s scared of what it could lead to, what it could do to him, what it has done to him. he’s a man who lives under a cloak of secrets and inside a cocoon of fear and mysteries, and for him to allow himself to expose everything he hides is no small feat.
but it is the surest mark of his trust in you, that some hopeful part of him believes that you’ll stay against all odds.
he thinks you shouldn’t, though, that it’ll cause you more harm than good— he won’t let himself want you. but you’ll know he is truly yours when he hesitates no longer to tell you the deepest desires of his heart, to bare his whole soul and lay it before your eyes.
patience, and you'll find him the most beautiful butterfly of them all.
…i’d cross the deepest of chasms, weather the harshest of storms, and brave the most treacherous of paths to return to your arms.
not a soul can say that adeptus alatus has no home to go back to. (and if they did, how utterly wrong they’d be.)
his home is the warmth of your embrace, the love in every gentle caress, and the soft cadence of your voice. it's the smile in your eyes, and the spring in your step, and the softness of your heart. he’d call it almost dream-like, but xiao knows what dreams are like, far better than anyone. he also knows that every dream— no matter how intense, no matter how vivid— always disappears.
but you’re still here, day after day,
does that not mean you’re as real as the air he breathes and the sun that sets over liyue?
xiao’s loyalty is hard won, but it is steadfast. he cannot promise that he’ll live forever, nor can he promise you happiness every single minute of the day. but what he can promise you, is that at the end of the day, he’ll fight his hardest to return to you, no matter how far away he might be.
…i’d etch your memory— from the most mellifluous laugh to every tiny victory— onto my very soul, so that not even the flow of time can wash it away.
morax has prospered for centuries.
he’s witnessed dynasties fall to dust; paupers rise to prominence. he’s come across many he was fond of and cherishes the memory of everyone he has ever cared for.
he’s also aware that forgetting some people in the vast expanse time is inevitable. the withering of the blooms of thought spare none, not even a god, and the tree of the psyche grows ancient. after all, even the mind is not permanent in a world of transience, is it?
but zhongli would be damned if he ever let you fade.
his promise, no, his contract— one he made to himself the day the realization that you'd one day no longer be by his side fully set in— is to preserve even the last wisps that linger, encasing the thought of you in shimmering gold, so that after you are long gone, you’ll live on as part of his soul.
…i’d whisper the softest of tales into the night breeze, tales of you and i, so that even when we’re long gone, the wind will carry our stories for aeons to come.
kazuha is no stranger to the whispers of the wind.
he’s intimately familiar with them, a rare blessing he knows he is lucky to have. but his most divine blessing is the privilege of being part of a story with you. life is short, unpredictable; one never knows what their fate might be, but he's beyond glad that this part of his destiny has you.
he has no desire to be a legend, and he knows you don’t either. but he is sentimental in the regard that he wants the whispers of the two of you to stick around. he’s lost so much, and reciting stories of the two of you is his way of preservation, for nothing spoken into the wind vanishes.
the world knows only a fraction of this wanderer, but he hopes that if they remember anything about him, they remember how much he loved you.
#—🖋#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin x you#kaeya x reader#kaeya x you#childe x reader#childe x you#tartaglia x reader#tartaglia x you#kazuha x reader#kazuha x you#kaedehara kazuha x reader#zhongli x reader#zhongli x you#xiao x reader#xiao x youi
501 notes
·
View notes
Text
i don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you (and i)
summary: dating tip? just don't. for celebrities, romantic relationships are absolutely forbidden. the slightest hint of one could ruin your career. but are you even listening to the lecture? doubt it, 'cause you're doing the complete opposite. (alternatively, a celebrity au featuring secret relationships.)
→ featuring: childe, & ayato (you can really tell who my faves are)
→ warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, slight cursing, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and drinking, tension, actual cursing, unreliable reader pov, gender-neutral reader (i apologize if i missed things, i haven't proofread it yet)
→ a/n: so, hi! long time no see? i was pretty stressed with college and well, i'm back! i began writing this last year and finally got the courage to finish it. but here it is and i hope you enjoy it :> please let me know if you like it <3 it really makes my day!
credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts!
beware, lengthy post ahead!
more under the cut!
the debut.
“forbidden?” you repeat.
“absolutely forbidden!” your manager says. “a rookie with no fanbase? a scandal will ruin your reputation! you're absolutely forbidden from dating anyone.”
you sigh. he's being too overdramatic.
you will never be in a relationship, you're absolutely sure. how can you? with no time for yourself as it is, dating someone with the limited hours you already have sounds impractical.
besides, you're too busy training and practicing for auditions.
remembering it now, you want to laugh.
i told you so, your thoughts chastise.
god, you should've listened.
childe, the actor
“that's a wrap!” the director cheers.
your eyes glisten as you hold back tears. it's embarrassing, you think. so damn embarrassing.
you've been repeating the same kissing scene multiple times now. obviously, the director cheers for finally completing the take and not because you did a good job.
childe pats your back. “you did great,” he says, with a smile.
but you know the gesture so goddamn well. the same nonchalant cold grin he throws at everyone that he now directs at you? oh, he's angry alright.
for what reason? who knows. you're too busy wallowing in self-despair over how terrible your acting is.
the scene is supposedly simple. it involves the second lead, who happens to be you, confessing their love to the leading man, resulting to a spontaneous kiss.
yet, you're fumbling over the lines, acting so out of character, tripping over set, incorrectly initiating the kiss at awkward angles—the whole time-wasting squander.
“what's going on?” childe eventually asks, once he arrives at your shared apartment. his bag drops to the floor with a flop. “you're acting strange. the entire crew sees it, i see it, the director sees it—what if he decides to fire you? what will you do then?”
you swallow dryly. you left the set early hoping childe's hectic schedule prompted him to forget the whole issue. yet, here he is finally bringing up the conversation after what feels like a month's worth of tension.
as you sit on the sofa chair, your fingers massage the bridge of your nose. breathe in, breathe out. you repeat. don't cry. you try to calm yourself down as a sob tries to break through.
eight months, you've been a couple.
but, there are some things you're afraid to say.
each year, the biggest tabloid newspaper in the country releases an article on celebrity dating scandals. a month ago they released one single page article about a popular actor dating a newbie actress. it barely had any juicy details, just a simple paragraph of a somebody dating a nobody.
yet, it did not end well for them. and you're terrified; for when it could happen to you.
you imagine it. dozens of messages and multiple missed phone calls on your cell as your name becomes the next talk of the town. the headline reads: revealed! a nobody actress, the second-lead from the northland bank saga currently dates the nation's boyfriend, childe!
it terrifies you. you could lose your job. lose what you love doing the most. and you could get tossed aside like an old sweater under someone's bed, left to rot and decompose.
so, yes. you hesitated earlier at set because you don't want anyone to connect the dots. to look at the kiss between you two and notice something amiss. to speculate that there's more to your relationship than what meets the eye. to realize you look at him as more than a co-star. to see how much you're in love with him. to realize the both of you are dating.
“it's not easy.” you say, releasing a sigh.
two years you've been in the business. rookies barely get any roles as it is. being in a well-received rendition of an old romance drama is a once in a blue moon opportunity and you can't risk someone finding out about your relationship.
“camera shy? no—you've kissed heaps of actors for that school drama.”
you mumble, “two people aren't heaps of actors, tartaglia.”
“then what is the problem?”
childe saunters to where you sit. he leans towards you and presses his palm on the head of the sofa, trapping your body between his and the chair. childe's eyes meet yours and you instantly look away.
he knows you well enough to comprehend that look on your face. the way you hide your clammy hands behind you, the manner of your eyes staring only at your feet, how your body tucks itself into the corner of the seat.
“me?” childe whispers.
he places a hand under your jaw. his thumb softly pushes your chin upwards so your eyes meet his.
“why?” he pleads.
“you won't understand.”
“i will if you tell me,” he says, holding your gaze. seeing how you relentlessly persist on keeping your mouth shut, he shakes his head. “oh, please tell me.”
you hesitate. you tell him and then what?
you could say: hey, childe! i'm afraid of our relationship being discovered. i'll be hated by your fans. you'll be constantly drained by my crying and whining. your reputation would take a hit regardless of how popular you are and—and then he'll finally realize how exhausting and annoying it is being with you.
your self-deprecation loves to pull you deeper into its sapping embrace. you're nothing, it mouths. childe would dump you and find some other actor or actress to date. god. it would be so easy. with his popularity, good looks, and charming personality, he'd find a better and talented rising-star the moment he chucks you out the front door.
so, you shake your head firmly.
“tell me, please.” he whispers.
you cross your arms, and look away.
“are you sick?”
you shake your head.
“somebody hurting you on set?”
again, you shake your head.
childe pauses, “...do you have feelings for someone else?”
“no!”
“then what is the damn problem?”
“nothing!” you exasperate, furrowing your brows together.
childe takes your reluctance as distrust and it ignites his irritation. do you not trust him? is he that insignificant to you? what are you hiding? hell, did you fall for the main lead of the show, zhongli? or do you not love him anymore? god, he can feel himself suffocate in resentment.
is he so unimportant that you'd prefer to keep the problem to yourself? it makes his blood boil; how he'd do anything for you, but you'd rather keep it to yourself and suffer alone.
“tell me.” childe scowls as he watches your lips quiver.
you keep your mouth firmly shut.
“fine, hold your tongue.” he sneers, “i understand. i really do, baby. it's not about the cameras, the flashing lights, the audience.”
childe brushes his lips against yours, “you wouldn’t kiss me like that in public, though, would you?” he releases his hold on your chin and his sharp eyes meet yours. “it’s only behind closed doors when you care to act like we’re each other’s.”
with a hooded jacket in one hand and a face mask in another, childe swiftly leaves the apartment with a slam of a door.
leaving you alone with your wretched thoughts.
more under the cut!
despite walking out the flat hours ago, childe still reverberates jealousy and anger; pure envy at how normal you act around everyone else yet, around him you're too guarded; and angry at himself for saying those awful words to your face.
he smacks his forehead on the steering wheel. childe acknowledges how childish he's been acting. you aren't ready to talk, and he shouldn't be forcing you to speak out your difficulties.
surely, the stress is piling up on you. he knows the hours you've been working on set, memorizing lines, practicing moves—again, he thumps his head on the wheel.
stupid, he curses. control your damn temper next time.
he reaches for the box of blueberry cheesecake on the front passenger seat. subconsciously, he drove two hours (and back) to the bakery's main branch as its side branches were sold out of your favorite cake. and he knows how much you love the pastry.
however, his body slouches in the parked car outside the apartment. the long drive works miracles with his anger, but the courage to actually walk inside and apologize never comes.
the ding of a text draws his attention. ‘go inside and beg for forgiveness, brat.’ yoimiya, a fellow actress from the same company as him, says. the woman is always in the loop and well-informed.
a shiver goes down his spine. if you told yoimiya about the argument, he's absolutely sure you're furious. you'd only speak to her as a last-ditch effort; knowing her personality she'd pummel him to bits while you watch.
as a result, he stands inside the apartment, one hand knocking on your bedroom door. however, instead of tasting blood, he hears your stifled sobs. the abrupt sound convinces him to turn the knob and enter the room.
the illumination from the hallway brightens the bedroom, shining a bit of light on your face. you lay on the bed with your knees to your chest, with a blanket over your waist. your reddened cheeks and tear-stained eyes makes his stomach churn.
“please don't cry, baby.” childe cooes, kneeling by your bedside. he leans over you, his fingers gently grip your cheeks. “i'm so sorry.”
the sudden apology sprouts pools from your eyes. his thumbs brush the water off your face and softly says, “i shouldn't have said—please, don't cry. it's my fault for taking my anger out on you.”
“i'm afraid of losing you,” you whimper. “if they find out—oh god—they'll tear me apart. i'm nothing compared to you. i'd lose everything. i might even lose you—”
“never, i will never leave you. no matter what happens,” childe interjects.
you furrow your brows, sobbing. “i'm no one—too difficult,” you hiccup. “you'll throw me away. i'm too whiny and too draining. if they find out... you'll see all the comments about how ugly—”
“breathe, baby.” he settles himself on your bed and softly places you on his lap. “you're gorgeous. you're not draining, and frankly, you're cute when you whine.”
you bury your face into his neck and continue, “i'm serious, childe. you'll get exhausted. the articles will talk about you too!”
“articles, mhm. they're just articles.” he hums.
irritation begins to set in. was he this clueless? you release another sob, “they're not just articles. they'll nitpick every single thing you do! oh—look at this newbie getting together with childe. oh, they suck at acting! why is childe even—”
childe gently places his palm on your neck, coaxing you to meet his gaze. “are you talking about the tabloid from last month?”
you sigh, “what else am i talking about?” and instantly you sense his laughter resonate. “are you laughing?”
“you're adorable, baby.” he breathes, nuzzling his face on your neck.
“you're making fun of me! what the hell, childe?”
he releases a sigh, pausing his laughter. “the tabloids every month. they're paid. companies pay them to talk about their idols for publicity.”
your face contorts into confusion, “who would willingly—they talked about lumine all month because of the article! you know she's my favorite actress. why would they willingly put her on the spotlight like that?”
“publicity, baby.”
you shake your head, “it makes no sense.”
“oh, it does.” childe hums. “of course, they'd seek permission first. it boosted views for her drama, didn't it? lumine did say she got extra for the views and switched apartments.”
“yeah, wait—you knew this whole time and didn't bother to tell me?”
he chuckles, “that's what you get for keeping these things to yourself for a month.” he squeezes the bridge of your nose.
“you're terrible.”
“love you too, baby.” he teases, “and besides, if a tabloid threatened to do something—” his thumb gently traces the skin around your neck. “—i'll keep you safe.”
a soft smile graces your features. “...i'm just not ready for anyone to find out. yet, anyway.”
childe hums, “we'll do it on your terms, okay? whenever you're ready.”
“sure, i guess you can keep me for a while longer. until you throw me away and find the next rookie to—”
childe's soft laughter sparks a flutter in your stomach. he would never do such a thing. the moment he first laid his eyes on you on set, heard your beautiful laugh between takes, listened to your jokes while practicing lines, and god, seen your angelic smile? the things he would do to keep you as his.
“never.” a cheeky grin appears on his lips, “i'll take care of you.”
bonus: five years later
your phone rings. the vibration continues on and off, signaling multiple inbox messages. you swipe your phone to see texts from several of your close friends.
‘i know you told me you were okay with it, but i didn't think he'd try to do it so soon. i tried but he's too hardheaded.’ says yoimiya.
‘congratulations! when's the wedding? i'm kidding. don't kill childe.’ says thoma, an actor from your same company.
‘sorrows, sorrows, prayers.’ says venti, your current co-star.
you even receive a message from childe himself.
‘good morning, baby. i'm completely fault-free. simply honoring your wishes as a devoted fiancé should.’
attached to a message was a link to a video entitled: please don't kill me honey.
you click the link.
the video's blurry, as if taken by a cellphone. you recognize thoma as the person videoing the whole scene, as he turns the camera to face him before focusing it on a woman—seemingly a fan of childe. she wears merch from his most recent drama.
a fan goes on stage chosen by a random lottery draw. the said fan wins the chance to interview childe, who was the guest of the day for talk show, and ask one question.
the girl hastily walks on stage, holding a microphone given by staff.
“um. hello, childe!”
the audience screams as the huge video screen focuses on your lover's face. he waves a quick ‘hello’ and the crowd yells louder.
the girl hesitates, “are you dating anyone right now?”
childe twists the microphone in his hands. “hm? right now... i'm not dating anyone.”
the crows sighs in relief, utterly happy their favorite leading actor continues to be single.
but you see the outline of a smirk flashing on his face, and you instantly know there's a deeper meaning to that sentence. “but, it's difficult to say... since we're not really dating as of the moment.”
quietly, you hear the voice of yoimiya whispering, “don't do it.” the camera now focusing on her, trying to get herself on stage. thoma flips the camera around to face it on himself, waving a hello, apparently enjoying the drama. he then focuses the camera on the wide screen, featuring childe's face.
to add mayhem into the mix, childe continues, “i don't think being engaged to your partner falls under dating. we're way past that.”
the interview ends with the audience screaming their lungs out in disbelief, while childe's laugh resonates the whole auditorium.
ayato, company director
“oh, them?” ayato's steady gaze meet yours, pressing his lips in a tight-lipped smile. “they're a friend of mine.”
friend. it echoes in your mind, repeating incessantly. friend. friend. friend.
dread creeps into the pit of your stomach akin to a quick flick of a lighter. after all this time, your stomach lurches. is that all he thinks of you?
god, you need a drink.
the businessmen before you smile, prompting you to return the favor. subsequently, you humbly introduce yourself as just an ‘actor in the industry’. and they laugh. of course they do.
who wouldn't know you? a multi award-winning movie and television star with piles of nominations. so modest, they say. so kind, they praise. you grin, the smile not reaching your eyes, thanking them for their compliments.
but you're so accustomed to their fake smiles, ingenuine flattery, and sweet talk; you never truly know what's actually honest and real—eyes flickering to your azure-haired partner—no, who's honest and real.
you swallow the thought down.
as if aware of the invisible daggers thrown his way, ayato's gaze meets yours. his lips are pressed firmly together, eyes devoid of warmth.
not now, his expression conveys.
you narrow your own eyes, irritation burning through your corneas. as much as you want to start an argument in front of his investors, you agree to his silent insistence. after all it's his gala; one he's tirelessly prepared for over several months.
so you bite your tongue and smile: one honed by years of acting—fake yet strangely genuine.
it's not strong enough. you say, sipping wine with shaky hands. earlier, you left ayato to his fellow businessmen using the excuse of needing a bathroom break, a reason to which he obliged.
you stare at the elaborate party before you, wishing you could go home. the gala swiftly dissolved your social battery, aided by forced mingling and bitterness. a friend, your consciousness repeats. always a friend. so you sit on a chair by the wall, sipping drinks like water.
suddenly, the hairs of your neck stand on end. you sense his presence behind you, prompting a glance through your peripheral vision.
“careful, darling.” ayato's says, tone smooth yet laced with warning. “i'd rather not have you collapsing. your lovely face wouldn't compliment these filthy floors.”
you tense immediately, shoulders stiffening. “reverting back to pet names, i see?”
ayato's hand now rests on your shoulder, his thumb brushing your soft skin. “what seems to be the issue? i doubt it's due to the eight glasses of wine you've consumed in one sitting.”
you roll your tongue in your mouth, practicing the words. let's break up. you bite your tongue. let's see other people. besides, he wouldn't care would he? it's not as if he's been acknowledging you as someone he's been dating, has he? hiding your relationship from his business partners is one thing, but concealing it from closest friends? his family? that's an entirely different matter altogether.
a friend, he says to his business partners.
a star from the company, he answers to his closest friends.
a companion, he whispers to his family.
you're sick and tired of it. all of it.
raising the wineglass to your lips, you drown the drink in one go. you raise two fingers signaling the waiter for another drink.
ayato sighs and you think you feel his hand on your neck tighten, ever so slightly. “you've reached your limit with wine, dear.”
soon, the waiter arrives with three more glasses on his tray. ayato's disapproving glare compels the waiter to scurry across the ballroom floor, steering clear of you.
you click your tongue and begin, “who says so?”
“your fiancé,” he mutters, voice dripping with venom.
you immediately scoff. “sure. for your sake, i'll pretend you mentioned that earlier.”
before ayato could retort, the presence of another individual calls his attention; his younger sister, ayaka.
“brother, the sangonomiya heir's requesting your presence.”
he sighs, irritation etching his features. yet, you blink, catching a subtle shift in his expression—seemingly twisting from annoyance to something resembling relief at the mention of sangonomiya's name.
you swallow the bitter thought.
“watch them for me, could you? i'd rather not have them find a server willing to disobey my instructions and serve them a drink,” ayato whispers, his tone betraying a hint of tension that doesn't go unnoticed.
ayaka nods. her consent prompts the older brother to depart, heading towards the misty rose-pink heir who stands at the opposite side of the ballroom.
ayaka says the inevitable, “you should let him know it bothers you.”
“...i'm not sure what you're referring to.”
her gaze follows yours, observing the giggling and cheerful countenances of the kamisato and sangonomiya heirs. they seem to be enjoying their time together. as always, you remark.
“they're just close friends, you know.”
you click your tongue. “like how him and i are just friends?”
ayaka sighs, understanding your implication. “you know what i mean.”
sangonomiya's hand on your partner's shoulder elicits an exasperated sigh from you. “thoma told me they were to be married if i wasn't here.”
“the man always running his mouth—” she takes a calming breath before continuing, “—but brother's very fond of you. i'm his sister, i should know.”
“then how come after dating him for five years, he still calls me his friend.” you pause, a hand sliding into the right pocket of your outfit. you absentmindedly play with the engagement ring inside. “i'm his fiancé, aren't i?”
“he has his reasons. petty reasons.”
you bite your tongue. or he's embarrassed of you.
you met the kamisato company heir two years after your debut as an idol. as you shifted towards acting, you developed a close relationship with his sister, a seasoned actress from the same company. eventually, she became the bridge that strengthened the bond between the two of you.
you dedicated yourself nonstop, evolving from a rookie actor to a multiple-nominee and winning star; all in the pursuit of being able to openly show off your relationship with ayato without it tarnishing your reputation.
however, when you're prepared to finally reveal your relationship, he isn't.
and it leaves you wondering, is there someone else?
you mean, you're hesitant to doubt the love of your life. but considering he's kept your relationship a secret from everyone for years, it's obvious he's adept at keeping things hidden.
even from you.
and the thought sours your mood.
excusing yourself once more to use the restroom, using the premise of consuming ten glasses of wine, you bid adieu to your favorite kamisato (at the moment). you instead head towards a secluded balcony away from prying eyes.
you stare at the garden below. your eyes quickly blink back the tears threatening to fall. not now, you hiss. don't do this to me, not right now.
“i assumed you would have retreated to your room by this point.” his voice murmurs, unnervingly composed.
you turn around to see your partner holding a glass of wine. his features remain blank, inscrutable.
maybe it's because of all the wine you've been drinking. you can't seem to tell between what's real or not.
“what did you discuss with kokomi?”
“i wasn't aware you were both on a first name basis.”
“answer the question.”
he smiles, “business as always.”
you huff and wrap your hands around your arms. “of course. just business.”
ayato immediately picks up the anger in your tone. he lays his palm on your forearm, gently pulling you towards him. “look at me,” he pleads, with a subtle trace of irritation in his voice.
you turn to look at his face, eyes glaring.
“i felt your glares the entire night.” he begins.
you shrug, smiling innocently. “...what ever do you mean?”
“don't toy with me, darling.”
as he enunciates his answer, it's as if the final thread of your patience snaps. does he still continue to feign innocence and lie to your face?
last month he proposed and you were overjoyed. you then expected a shift in your relationship; the final unveiling of your engagement to the public. you gave him your permission, a definitive “i'm ready for everyone to know.”
yet thirty days later the engagement remains concealed leaving only a few of his friends (thoma) and a few family members (ayaka) knowing about your updated relationship.
if it was the ayato from two years ago, he would be delighted—ecstatic even—to reveal the truth. he might have used the gala today as an avenue to scream to the world, this person and i are in love.
but he didn't.
so the weight of your feelings began to drag you down; it almost feels suffocating in a way. as if a ribbon labeled, he's ashamed, tightly winds around your insides, intricately tying them all together into a sophisticated bow sowing distrust whispering; he's hiding something.
your suspicions, coupled with his frequent visits this month to the sangonomiya estate, fueled your frustration until it erupted. if only he ceased pretending innocent, perhaps you would able to smile through the whole facade.
if only he didn't ask.
“i'm not naive. if you developed feelings for kokomi then you shouldn't have proposed.” you snap. “was it out of pity? did you feel so damn guilty that you chose to go through with the engagement instead of being honest about your feelings?”
ayato furrows his brows, mouth tightening in anger. “what are you talking about? i discuss private affairs with kokomi. business affairs.”
you laugh; one infused with irritation and disbelief. “don't tell me then. keep your stupid secrets.”
“do you want me to jot down a damn list detailing every single thing i do in a day?” he growls. “i won't divulge company secrets just because you feel like throwing a tantrum.”
your hands drift to the tie around his neck, tugging the crooked tie straight. “no. go ahead and keep your secrets.” you pause and roll the words with your tongue, “you're clearly very good at keeping secrets. you’ve kept me—us—as a secret for so long, so of course you’d be good at keeping fucking secrets.”
anger flares across his face. “you desired our relationship to remain a secret, and i respected your wishes.” he sneers, “i wanted to let the damn world know how much i'm in love with you yet, it was the opposite of what you desired.”
ayato releases his grip on you and strides back into the ballroom, but he halts right at the door to the balcony. “so don't dictate when i should reveal the truth simply because you've grown sick and tired of keeping me as your dirty, little secret.”
he finally departs; and you stay, tears pooling, with a profound ache in your heart.
ayato waltzes around the room in a nonchalant dance; yes, good to see you. he lies. how's business? he couldn't care less. enjoy the party! no, he wants everyone in the damn room to feel his wrath.
although he yearns to set the entire ballroom ablaze, ending the party prematurely would be ill-manned of him. so, ayato continues being a gracious and honorable host.
but he feels hollow. he envisions himself freezing the entire room in an icy gust, everyone turning into statues. he wants to sprint back into your arms and plead for you to listen.
he doesn't understand what came over him. why he lost his temper like that. typically, he'd manage your outbursts with composure and understanding. what happened? he doesn't know.
he attributes his outburst to the mounting pressure. the chronic lack of sleep and continuous exhaustion coming from his title as heir. perhaps it's the truth gnawing his skin; despite his powerful position atop the company, it can easily be ripped away with the flick of a wrist.
instead of spending time with his fiancé—he doesn't know if he still deserves to call you that, you probably threw away his ring the second he left the balcony—yet here he is, engaged in conversations with business associates he cares little about.
“brother?” ayaka calls. she finds him leaning against a railing of stairs. “i closed off the gardens.”
ayato swallows. he last saw you sneaking towards the grounds. “they're still on the grass?”
“yes.”
“they'll catch a cold.”
“they will.”
he glances at his sister. “they think i'm unfaithful.”
“i know,” she says matter-of-factly. “have you offered them any evidence to convince them otherwise?”
ayato stays silent.
“i know you care about them, brother.” ayaka sighs, “however, surprising them with a specially crafted ring and being petty when your entire relationship is at stake may not be the wisest move.”
he sighs.
“most especially if they suspect that your frequent visits to the sangonomiya manor are fueled by romantic feelings for its heiress, and not for their own wedding ring.”
after a while, ayato spots you lying on the grass in a starfish formation, having finally swallowed his pride. his eyes glaze over your features: red eyes, cheeks marked with tear stains, and an exhausted expression.
“can we talk?” he begins.
you spare a quick glance before turning your attention back to the night sky. “there's not much to talk about.”
“i'm not cheating,” he asserts.
“i know.”
“do you know, or have you resigned yourself to not knowing?”
“hm,” you hum. “a part of me entertains the thought of you cheating. yet an even smaller part absolutely knows that if you were truly cheating, you'd be more discreet. who, in their right mind, would inform thoma that you visited her manor?”
he chuckles, a laughter-less sound escapes him. “i understand i've been secretive. you have every right to assume i'm up to something indecent. but i have my reasons.” ayato confesses, kneeling beside your body. he places his hand inside his suit pocket, pulling up a black small box.
you instantly sit up. “you're horrible,” you cough, eyes widening as he opens the box to show a ring. “this entire time you were—god.”
“i placed a special order,” he mumbles. “i visited each day to ensure it was flawless, right down to the smallest details.”
“i'm so sorry.”
“don't be, love.” he breathes, “you had your reasons, and i was insistent on keeping it a surprise.”
relief floods your features. “good,” you whisper before tears well in your eyes.
the sound of your sobs breaks his heart. he immediately wraps his arms around you, brushing his lips on your cheeks.
“i'm sorry, darling,” he murmurs, kissing the skin above your brow. “i'm sorry for worrying you.”
“goddamn sadistic,” you sob. “you knew i was freaking out, but you just watched!”
he grins, “i have to admit, you look cute when you're jealous.”
a groan escapes you. “don't make me throw away both rings.”
“is that so? i should've ordered twenty spares.”
“no.” you scold.
“oh? look at my darling, so jealous,” he smirks, nuzzling his face into your neck. you then feel his lips press into a straight line. “you're not something i would ever try to hide. i would never be ashamed of our relationship.”
you laugh, “prove it.”
your smile faces seeing the smirk on his face. in that exact moment, you know that kamisato ayato, the preposterous god in human flesh, plans to do something grand and explosive to prove you otherwise.
“do not.” you begin, “we've talked about this. you cannot—you absolutely will not bribe the government to declare our wedding date as a national holiday!”
bonus: ten minutes before the clash
“is it getting warm in here, or am i sensing the intense gaze of your loving fiancé on me?” kokomi laughs, sipping a glass of champagne.
ayato takes a peek, and he chuckles upon seeing your irritated and jealous expression. “they certainly are.”
“please do not involve me in your lovers' quarrels. everyone knows we're just close friends.”
“they do.”
“have you told them?”
“...it may have slipped past my mind.”
kokomi shakes her head. “sadistic.” she slips a black box into his palm. “clear it up. i do not want to be murdered by your future partner.”
ayato glances at you from across the room as you engage a conversation with his sister. “mhm, i could, but their jealous expression is too endearing.”
“sadistic,” she repeats. “absolutely sadistic.”
he chuckles.
“also, kazuha mentioned that you've been referring to them as your companion. correct that.” she continues, “and stop calling them your friend!”
“they asked me to when we started dating.”
she rolls her eyes. “you're so petty. stop trying to provoke them!”
“anyways, everyone knows we're engaged,” he corrects. “their whining face is the cutest.”
“sadistic.”
“kokomi?”
she tilts her head and hums, “yes?”
“ever wondered how much it costs to propose a national holiday?”
author’s note: lmao. so in this modern au ayato actually succeeds in turning your wedding date into a national holiday. the government actually appreciates his donation because a.) they always accept goodwilled (lmao) funds and b.) ayato's an important pillar to the gov and they don't want to upset him 'cause petty rich boy tantrums tilt the economy (how sadistic).
so, ayato's the heir of the company where you are employed at as an idol turned actor/actress. kokomi is the heiress to a big jewelry corporation. lmao they were both engaged together when they were like five but they instantly broke it off because well, they both threw five year old tantrums.
plus thoma telling you that they were to be engaged was just a fact he blurted out when you asked about kokomi (he manages to omit the five-year-old part because he's careless + he didn't think it matters because anyone can tell ayato's intensely in love with you)
#genshin x you#genshin x reader#genshin impact x gender neutral reader#genshin imagines#genshin impact x reader#tartaglia x reader#childe x you#childe x reader#ayato x reader#kamisato ayato x reader#ayato x you#genshin x gender neutral reader#genshin headcannons#genshin angst#genshin hurt/comfort#kamisato ayato#childe#tartaglia x you
680 notes
·
View notes
Note
Love your workkk!! ❤️❤️can i get an hc on fem reader taking off their coat revealing toned muscles and abs right before sparring and how childe alhaitham kazuha diluc kaveh will react? Mostly sfw but slight nsfw is okay
Thank you<3 And sure, hope this turned out like you imagined it.
Characters Included: Childe; Alhaitham; Kazuha
Content: female reader; pre relationship; they are basically simping over you(r form)
Word count: 1,1k words
Hope you guys have fun with this one<3
Childe
as our resident fighting maniac, it's no wonder that Childe wants to test and experience the capabilities of any and all agents that get assigned under his command
working under a Harbinger is a great honor, and it helps that Tartaglia seems far more approachable and reasonable than all the others
though you have been warned about his preference for fighting, you still didn't expect him to just straight up demand a sparring fight with you on your first day of duty
you tried giving every excuse in the book, but he kept insisting and in the end, you neither had the energy nor the nerves to deny him any longer
Childe was beaming with excitement on the way to the training grounds, immediately ridding himself of his weapons and getting in the ring, waiting for you to join him
"Come on, it's just a little spar. Nothing too serious~" he continues to coax you with a smirk
you sigh, as you go to take of your coat and other clothing that would just hinder you during the fight, placing your choice of weapon right next to them
when you look up again, you notice Childe staring at you
more specifically, at the muscles that protrude from your upper arms
they weren't really noticable under your clothes before, but it was clear evidence that you did not slack on your training. And now it seemed like Childe was hypnotized by them
in fact, his eyes lit up as he took in your well trained form, no longer hidden under your choice of clothes
the smirk returns to his face and he looks you in the eyes, excited for the, without a doubt, very enjoyable spar that's about to take place
Alhaitham
Alhaitham and you have been well acquainted for a few years now
it's like a sort of friendship that has formed between you two due to circumstances aligning, and after all those years, the friendship has still survived
it's not like you guys were together every single day, it's more like the occaisonal hangout once every (other) week, catching up with each other again, before going back to your own lives again. Then rinse and repeat
you are both aware of each others occupation and hobbies. Like, you knew that Alhaitham was currently under a lot of stress due to temporarily being promoted to Acting Grande Sage, and he likes to read during his free time
as for him, he was aware of your hobby with self defense fighting styles, and that you were teaching some classes from time to time
however, it seems that it never occured to him that thanks to your hobby, you would logically also acquire a figure that would prove that visually
so, when for one of your meet ups, you asked him to meet you at your current training spot, he thought nothing too much of it, making his way there after he was done with all his other responsibilities
when he arrived, you were still invested in your training, and since he didn't want to interrupt you, he planned on sitting down and reading his book while waiting for you
that was his plan... until he snatched a glance at you
seeing you in your work out clothes, toned abs clearly visible now in the daylight, something in him froze up, not letting him take his eyes away from you anymore
he was mesmerized by your form, how your body looked and how well trained and fit you seemed to be. In this moment, he felt like a fool for never realizing what such intense training would do to ones body
and he had to admit... he definitely liked what he saw
after your training was done, he would act respectful and not comment about it, stating that he didn't mind waiting for you. But that doesn't mean that he's not still thinking about what he's seen today..
Kazuha
you haven't really known Kazuha for too long, but you've grown to really like the wandering samurai a lot
his calm, collected way of speaking, along with his kind personality was a breath of fresh air to you, one that you really desperately needed
you enjoyed the time you spend with him, sitting around or walking through Liyue Harbor, listening to the storys he tells you about his travels. You always listen very closely to everything, soaking his storys up
on the other hand, Kazuha really enjoys sharing his experiences with you. He adores the excited glint in your eyes and how you focus on each word that leaves his lips
the more you two got to know each other, the more time you spent together. You began wandering around Liyue, outside the city, exploring the nature and wildlife together
often times, Kazuha would pick you up early in the morning, spending the day hiking up mountains with you, finding a beautiful spot where you can rest and just look up to the sky together
and although this is all nice and everything, that doesn't mean it can't get dangerous along the way
this time, on your way back down from a mountain, you guys got attacked by a swarm of Hilichurls. They got you cornered and surrounded, but Kazuha and you were quick to pull your weapons and fight yourself a way out
though Kazuha's fighting style was much more elegant than yours in your personal opinion, that doesn't neglect the fact that you were very well adapted with your own weapon of choice
however, in the midst of the battle, one of the monsters got a grip of you. You had to sacrifice your favourite coat to it, in order to not get hit by it, but you took it down swiftly afterwards. However, the coat was ruinied
when everything was over and Kazuha went to check up on you, he noticed that your coat was gone, and admittedly, he couldn't help the way his eyes were wandering over your body
he had never seen you without a coat on, seeing as you were always meeting up outside and it was late fall already. And since you were mostly wearing clothes that were on the baggier side, he never would have thought that you had such a well trained body shape
his eyes kept wandering, completely oblivious to the fact that he was staring at you
when you cleared your throat, he snapped out of his trance, focusing back on you, though a blush from the embarrassement of getting caught was evident on his face
"I'm sorry for staring. I just wasn't expecting you to look this stunning under the layers you usually wear."
yeah.. he really has his way with words.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin headcanons#childe x reader#childe x you#tartaglia x reader#tartaglia x you#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#childe headcanons#childe x reader headcanons#alhaitham x reader headcanons#alhaitham headcanons#kazuha x reader#kazuha x you#kazuha headcanons#kazuha x reader headcanons
495 notes
·
View notes
Note
can I ask for like really fluffy Tartaglia smut with like a lot of praise and cuddles pretty pleaseeeee I love this man
Tartaglia (Childe) x fem!reader. Fluffy smut. Praise. Creampie. Milaya means sweetheart or babe in Russian.
I echo the same sentiments, dear anon❤️ I wrote this listening to Possession by Sarah McLachlan.
A low groan of approval was met with your ears as Tartaglia looked down as his cock slowly pushing into your cunt. "Look at my good girl taking me so well," He caressed his fingers on the insides of your thighs, making you shiver.
You blushed from the sensation of his cock slowly stretching your walls apart. Chuckling, he rubbed the pads of his fingers over the goosebumps that rose up on your skin. "You always look so cute while you adjust to my size," Your body twitched as he bottomed out, the head of his cock nudging accurately into your sweet spot.
Tartaglia was determined to spoil you tonight. His thrusts were long and languid and slow, wanting to soak up the feeling your cunt quivering and clenching around his cock and savior the sweet moans spilling from your pretty mouth as you rocked your hips up in time with his thrusts.
You whimpered, looking at him with teary, desperate eyes that sent him reeling. He reached down to caress your cheek. "Does my good girl want me to go faster?" He emphasized his words with a stronger, faster thrust of his hips.
Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, practically melting into the mattress as you turned your cheek into his hand. His thumb brushed some of the tears away that were threatening to fall from how good his cock felt inside of you. "Mmph..yes, faster please," You cried out between your moans, reaching a shaky hand out to him.
Tartaglia laced his fingers through yours. Grasping your other hand, he pinned them down to the bed as his lips stole yours up in a passionate kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to swallow every delicious moan of pleasure you had to offer him, his body shuddering in pleasure as he thrust.
"Just close your eyes, Milaya* and let me make you cum," Tartaglia moaned, pulling away to suck on your lower lip. Reaching down to rub your clit, he brought the hand he was still holding to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on it.
Your eyes rolled closed, your orgasm building to toe curling proportions. You squeezed his hand, soft, high pitched moans and whines keening from your throat.
Tartaglia's cock pulsed and throbbed between your walls as he got lost in the pleasure of lovingly fucking you, his husky moans mingling with yours. You pressed a feverish kiss on his lips, your hips bucking into his.
His thrusts never faltered, not even when they turned a little sloppy from his own impending release. Your pussy was clenching too good on his cock for him to miss a beat.
Your orgasm broke over you, squeezing his hand tighter as your body twitched and writhed from the intense pleasure. He let out a low groan, burying his cock deeper into you, determined to thoroughly fuck you through it.
Tartaglia spiraled into further bliss, cursing in Russian as his cock pulsed and ribboned cum inside of you. His fingers never left your clit, enjoying every mewl and twitch as your walls continued to flutter around his cock while he fucked his cum deep inside of you, feeling satisfied when it seeped from your hole.
You were panting and nearly limp from the pleasure but the time he pulled out of you. You never failed to make his heart skip beats when you curled into him once he pulled you into his arms.
#genshin impact#genshin smut#fem!reader#genshin imagines#tartalgia#tartaglia smut#tartaglia x you#tartaglia x reader#tartaglia x y/n#childe#childe smut#childe x reader#childe x you#childe x y/n
377 notes
·
View notes
Text
Genshin men reacting to you giving them expensive gifts.
(Alhaitham, Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Neuvilette)
(reader's love language is receiving gifts)
AL HAITHAM
He didn't think that it was really necessary to give him expensive gifts but he's grateful for it anyway. Whatever you give him, he will always appreciate it and secretly keep it inside his office. Days after you give that expensive gift that you think of, he'll buy you 3x expensive than the one you bought him. You'd tell him he really doesn't have to but it's alhaitham. He wants to appreciate you all way that's possible. He may struggle saying it using his words but whenever he does, he talks like you're the only person in his eyes.
AYATO
He finds it really romantic that you'd give him something so expensive worth your money that you worked hard for. He won't hide the fact that he is really grateful and would always wear/use the expensive gift you gave him, after giving him those gifts he'll find himself asking ayaka to ask you what kind of gifts would you like because he wants to surprise you like how you always do to him. He wants to express his love for you in your love language so that you'll feel loved.
DILUC
He wants to be the one who gives you expensive gifts because yk he's richrich but whenever you do he tells you that you don't have to give him expensive gifts because he already loved those hand made gifts. You insisted and told him it wasn't enough that's why he lets you. One thing you see whenever you give him gifts is that he never forgets to kiss you whether it's on your cheeks, lips or forehead. He treats those gifts like a gold and he never wanna lose it because he knows that you'd always work hard just to buy him things even though you didn't have to.
CHILDE
He lovessss it, he doesn't stop you from giving him expensive gifts because he'll give you something much more expensive in return. Your relationship with him is give and take, he loves your gifts and the thought of you trying your best just to give him one. You both love shopping together and roaming around liyue buying random things that heals both of your inner child since finance is not a problem for the both of you. Spoiling each other is your love language and you both love giving things to the poor and even each other's family.
NEUVILETTE
You love giving him things that matches his style so he'd always use/wear whatever expensive gift that you may think of. Other than giving him gifts you loved sitting on his lap while making something for him, he doesn't mind if your gifts are expensive or not. He loves your gifts, though he still isn't used to it whenever you give him one, he makes sure that he is still showing his gratitude to you. He secretly loves to look at you making something for him or whenever you panic because you don't know what to give him. He loves everything about you.
#genshin imagines#genshin impact fluff#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x you#alhaitham x reader#genshin fanfic#alhaitham fluff#diluc fluff#al haitham x reader#al haitham x you#alhaitham x you#genshin x you#diluc x reader#diluc x you#diluc imagines#childe x you#childe x reader#tartaglia x you#tartaglia x reader#tartaglia fluff#childe fluff#ayato fluff#ayato x you#ayato x reader#neuvilette x reader#neuvilette x you#neuvilette fluff#ayato imagines
523 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝑮𝑨𝒁𝑬 | 𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑨
warnings: dubcon, stalking, yandere childe, alcohol consumption, facial, blow job, fem reader, degradation, cum eating(?), snowballing, breath play
wc: 4.1k
a/n: im baaaaack, also this is for @jozhenji ily bitch mwah
You hate Snezhnaya.
The cold that bites at your cheeks, the way your bones ache if you stand outside too long, and how blinding the snow can be on the days where the sun is the brightest. You hate holding onto candle light to maneuver your way down the hallway of your house, only to hear talk of the Fatui growing in size and manipulating more people into joining under the harbingers from the neighbors that stop by to chat in front of your door late at night.
“They each have their own agenda.” One of them says, as if that’s supposed to justify their actions, like they’re not all connected in some way.
“Did you hear Ajax got into another fight?”
“Again?”
You hate him. Ajax. You hate how he always needs to be the center of attention.
You hate his laughter, his gaze, the way he starts fight after fight and how he doesn’t care if his father cries or threatens to send him to the military. You hate how he knows so much, how he thrives off of the adrenaline that runs through his veins when he knows he’s won, when he can taste it, feel it in his hands and configure it so that it adds fuel to the fire burning brightest in his chest. It’s the one of the only times his smile reaches his eyes.
You hate that it’s the same smile when he looks at you. When he thinks that he can barge in on your walks to get firewood, or when he finds one of your siblings and walks them home. He only wanted to make sure they would get home safe, he swears.
If Ajax could put his pride on a pedestal, he would. He would bellow in letting people watch as it grows and swallows everything in its path to take up more space, thriving on the marvel painted on people’s faces who pass, who watch as he leaves the small village of your hometown to join the Fatui. It shouldn’t have come as a shock when he was recognized because of his ability to fight.
You think about the time that he went missing for three days causing a search party that grew so rapidly in size because his father is a respectable man, it hurt to see how little he slept. It hurt your community to see him attempt to console his other children.
It hurt even more when you were the one Ajax showed up in front of first.
You were looking out to the horizon, the firewood that had been collected by your side, stopping to enjoy the hot stew you had prepared for your siblings in the thermos that had been carefully wrapped to protect it from the bitter temperatures. It wasn’t exactly as hot as you expected but you welcomed the few seconds of warmth brought to your lips. It’s comforting and while looking out to the horizon, you make a silent promise to yourself to move to a nation that is always sunny, where the winds are warm, and the waters are blue. Something that would help your soul feel weightless in contrast to your current surroundings.
When the forest is covered in snow you can hear everything, the branches that fall under the weight of the ice, the crunching of footsteps when someone passes by, and even the curses of the men who were fetching more wood for their wives; tired, exhausted, and numb.
That day he came back, you didn’t expect to hear him, much less see him.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” You knew his voice, whipping your head around so fast because you never heard his footsteps approaching. His nose was bleeding, staining his mouth and shirt. “It’s nothing compared to you.” He smiled after wiping the blood off his nose and mouth with his sleeve, watching you in awe of how relieved you must have been when he showed himself to you.
He stumbles forward a little, laughs, “Hey, I lov-I’ve loved you from the moment we met.”
You’re the last thing he sees before he blacks out.
Years have passed since then. You watch when Teucer and Tonia come running by with their new toys, how much easier it gets for his father to take care of himself when he’s promised that Ajax is okay and the financial hardship doesn’t consume his very being. It’s hard not to smile when Teucer looks up at you with a toothy grin, begging you to play with him again.
You’ve never been able to tell him no, even though he has the same eyes as his older brother.
-
You feel uneasy when Pulcinella knocks at your door one evening.
It’s routine for him to visit Ajax’s home, he is the one who offered him the position in the Fatui, you knew he had good combat skills but never would have guessed it was enough for him to be recognized as one of the harbingers. His name is no longer familiar, replaced with Tartaglia. He erases the name given to him, fully accepting his role.
You open your door for him, it would be rude not to answer when the mayor comes to your door.
He smiles gently at you, it does nothing to relieve your nerves, makes goosebumps run down your spine and you will yourself to meet his gaze and return a smile that you would never call your own.
“For you.”
You let him place the box in your hand, it's rectangular, flat, and wrapped beautifully. It makes your stomach drop when his hand touches yours, you can feel a letter slip in between your hand and his, it reminds you of when your grandmother would place chocolates in your hand when you were a child.
“Thank you.” You mumble, mouth dry and lips chapped from the unexpected visit. He nods, leaving you and waving goodbye at Ajax’s family.
You set the box down next to the fireplace, you can hear the crackles from the wood engulfed in flames, it makes you feel less lonely at night. Now that your siblings have gone and left, you’re left to take care of the house your parents had left behind.
You carefully unwrap the bow that sits on top, folding it neatly beside you. Your palms are sweaty when you peel back the wrapping paper. The outside is revealed with the name of an expensive boutique known for the intricate patterns of beautifully displayed lingerie.
You stare at it in disbelief, the measurements are your size down to the millimeter, you feel like screaming. Like locking yourself in your home, blocking out the windows and doors so that no one, no one else could ever invade your privacy the way that he has.
The black lace is decorated with hints of glitter and the satin lines it feels so, so fine. If it were from anyone else you would be enamored, delighted to wear this for someone that you held feelings for, but the only thing you feel is fear.
You remember the letter that was placed in your hands.
You wish you hadn’t opened it. He only speaks of the past, how he never got to tell you how grateful and happy he was to see you after he had been missing for so long.
When you returned home with Ajax, he was different, asking how many days have passed to everyone that came to visit him during his recovery, contemplating how time passes differently where he was in. When you would see him, you had reassured him over and over that it was three days, though he argued it had been three months. He used to make you retell the story again, and again, and again going over the most miniscule details until you were in tears telling him that it’s all you can remember.
You throw the box and letter into the fire, watching the flames consume it all. You spend the remainder of the night fitting whatever parts of your life that you could in a suitcase.
You leave the next morning.
-
Your life in Fontaine is calmer than back home, you’re near the ocean and you bask in the warm windy hills during the day or dive into the ocean once you’ve finished your work at the small little dress boutique in the middle of the city.
Your boss teases you about one of the Gardes that have caught your attention when he patrols, you even sparked up a conversation about your favorite flowers you’ve encountered in Fontaine.
“Romaritime flowers!” you exclaim, “They’re beautiful. They look so pure in and out of the water.”
He places one in your hands the next time you meet, promising to take you on a proper date when he finishes patrol.
You assume the bouquet of them at your front door was from him, assume that you would see him that night when you closed the boutique and assume that he would ask where you would like to go next.
You spent that morning getting ready for work. Donning one of your favorite dresses, it compliments you well enough to make you stand out, but still allows you to work comfortably. It’s something your boss had given to you when you first arrived in Fontaine, the excuse was that you also needed something when you would go out. How else would you fit in?
You cried at her kindness, something you had not encountered in years.
You finish work that night, assuring your boss that you would close up. She gives you a hug, tells you that she wants to hear all about it when you come back after your day off.
The clouds start to darken when she leaves. You hope it’s only temporary.
-
You imagine this is what heartbreak feels like.
To trust someone with your feelings so easily only to be faced with the hard realization that they didn’t seem to care about that trust to begin with. The rain, which you hoped was short lived, only rubs salt in the wound. It’s pouring, your shoes are in your hands and your dress is stuck to your body. You waited for two hours after the boutique closed for him to come by, you waited another hour after his patrol ended. You finally left after ten more minutes, when a young woman knew the look on your face and offered you her umbrella. You politely declined, assured her that you would be okay.
In the end you’re left disappointed, cold, and wet. It reminds you of the numerous times you would come home from the harsh snowfall in Snezhnaya, greeted with silence when you stepped foot into your house shivering and attempting to start a fire. You hated it.
You ignore the stares from couples strolling the night, instead focusing on the cool pavement beneath your bare feet, how the rain feels somewhat cooling to your face and how you can hide your tears.
It’s better this way, to only rely on yourself. You’re all you have after all.
When you return home, you toss your shoes outside to dry. Slamming the door behind you and begin struggling to peel off your dress because the fabric is soaking wet and it’s stubbornly sticking to your skin. You curse when it doesn’t come off, panting and pulling it over your head, you step on something sharp, cursing again when you finally throw your dress off and the tears threaten to spill. You curse and throw the dress into the corner of your living room.
You’re left cold, shivering, and only in your bra and panties when you look at the blood from your foot. You begin to cry.
Your gaze then follows the trail of broken glass on your floor, the pool of water leading up to the broken vase of the Romaritime flowers.
“Do you let others stare at you like this?”
Your blood runs cold. You remember the same feeling back when he found you staring out into the horizon all those years ago.
He places a hand over your mouth, holds you flush against his chest when he sneaks up from behind you. “Shh, s’kay.”
You can’t scream, you squirm in his hold, kicking and clawing at his arm holding your face. He thinks it would be fun to allow you to think he’s off balance.
You shift all your weight onto him, hoping that in the fall you’ll have enough time to run, to hide, to fight. You could run to your neighbor’s house, the nice little old couple that lives behind you and hide in their garden until you’re safe. You wish you were safe, you wish you were home sooner. Oh fuck, if only you hadn’t waited for so long into the night.
He grabs your wrist before you’re able to move, bringing you back to him. You force yourself to find strength to move, to be able to turn around and face him. He anticipates this, he spins you around like a dancing couple would.
He laughs once and you stop.
You no longer want to look, you can only see the boy who was missing smiling and complimenting you with blood running down his nose, you remember the lingerie he sent when you were still in the village, how your stomach dropped when the mayor knocked at your door.
Nothing compares to this, to the goosebumps littering your skin when he peers down at you, blue eyes that don’t ever leave your gaze and make you feel like you’re drowning in the sea waters that surround Fontaine.
“I was waiting for you” he whispers, peppering your face with kisses while you stand there, frozen. It’s similar to the time when he collapsed in front of you, only this time you can’t find the words to scream.
It’s funny how this time he’s found you. Your poor attempt at hiding from him is amusing.
“Missed you so much” he continues to kiss you, makes his way down to your collarbones and doesn’t hesitate to get on his knees to kiss the softness of your stomach or the tops of your breasts that are exposed to him.
“Should have locked you up you know? You ran from me, took me forever to find you.”
“Ajax” you whisper, the tears that sting your eyes are threatening to spill. “Why are you here?”
You hold in a sob, you know why. You’ve always known why he was enamored by you.
“Does it matter?” he breathes, shifting his position so he is behind you again, kissing the tears off the side of your face, watching how your breathing shifts when his cold hands touch the bare skin exposed to him.
“Had to pay that Garde off really well. He wasn’t cheap, you know?”
Your heart breaks further, the sob you were holding building into your throat. “You’re so worth it though, pretty little thing. Look at how I found you, fuck, you missed me too didn’t you?”
He’s guiding you to your couch, laying you down while he towers over you. You feel nauseous when you feel his hardening cock through his pants, “look at you, look at you!” He laughs again, another bout of tears flowing down your cheeks, hot and heavy.
He leans down to kiss you, you turn your head but Ajax isn’t opposed to using force to get what he wants, you know this. You’ve always known this. He takes your face into his hands again, squishing your cheeks together like he did before except his gaze is demanding, icy, and bitter.
“Kiss me back”
You oblige, letting him press his lips against yours and slipping his tongue into your mouth. You flinch at the roll of his lips, clutching at his shirt when he groans into your mouth. He mistakes this as want, giving you more until you’re consumed by him, his presence, his scent, his touch.
He breaks away to let you breathe, smiles at the string of spit that connects both of you and how your eyes are hazing, even though he can’t tell if it’s from crying or from how dizzy he’s made you when he kissed you.
“Let’s celebrate” He’s off of you before you can register what he said, grabbing a bottle of one of Mondstat’s best wines. He’s unceremonious, rogue even, when he pops the cork off and takes a drink straight from the bottle before dipping back down to kiss you.
He didn’t swallow much to your surprise, he let the wine pass from his mouth to yours. Pulling away to watch your face scrunch up at the taste, “s’good” he slurs, taking another drink and swallowing this time.
“Here.” He’s pulling you to sit up, he’s so fast it’s hard to follow what he’s thinking, what he’s doing. He’s taking another drink again, it’s smaller this time, more like a sip that he thinks is adequate for you.
He doesn’t let you pull back, his hand is on the nape of your neck making sure you can’t escape his intensity. You try to keep up, letting his tongue enter your mouth and swirl with his. It’s so sloppy, so hot, and sticky that it makes your head spin. He only gives you a break to drink more wine, to make you both drink more.
He keeps giving you more and more, loves when you get weaker and you don’t protest as much anymore. When you whine and start anticipating the alcohol from his mouth to yours, it makes the taste more bearable and your thoughts aren’t as loud in your head.
The wine keeps spilling from the corners of your mouth, leaving a little trail of purple-red for him to lick up to. He’s sucking at the skin of your neck, finding your pulse point so easily. His teeth nip at your skin, you don’t mean to lean into him, the alcohol is making you slow to react. He swears he hears a small moan escape your lips when he nips at the sensitive skin again.
His hand slides down your chest, feeling your tits through the fabric of your bra, it’s still wet.
“Ajax” you slur, “wanna wait” you say. He looks at you, he notices the tears again. You feel them spill, you’re cold. You cling onto him because at least he’s offering you that sliver of comfort.
“Wait?” He repeats, licking a tear off of your cheek.
“Why would I wait when I know you want me too?” He whispers in your ear, his hands unclasping your bra in one go. His touch is cold, similar to how it feels when you first go into the sea. Your body has to get use to it, it starts to warm up and you feel like you could swim and float for hours.
It’s the same with his touch, the cool tips of his fingers warm up the more he squeezes. He likes the sound you make when he pinches at your nipples, he takes one into his mouth, sucking and licking. Groaning when he hears the little whimpers you try to hold back.
He makes his way back up to your lips again, grabs your hands that are clutching at his sides to guide them down to palm the shape of his cock through his pants.
He’s dreamt of this for so long.
“Oh fuck” he pants, his breath hitting your lips before he’s kissing you again, his tongue feels like he’s lapping into your mouth getting as sloppy as possible as if you’re going to vanish again. His tongue rolls over yours until he’s aching, cock throbbing for attention.
“Hey, feel me here.” He pants, eyes red rimmed and the blue of his irises brighter. You feel like you could drown in them.
He takes your hand and holds it in his, tossing his vision on your table. He’s undoing his belt & pulling his pants down enough for his cock to spring free.
He wraps your hand around the base, guides you in how fast and how much pressure to place around him, when he lets go of your hand you can feel him looking at you. You’re focused on the length of him, how heavy and hot he feels against your hand.
You feel like crying again. You oblige him because at least he’ll leave you alone sooner, you’re just another thing for him to win over, to declare victory before he gets bored with you and moves on to this next challenge.
“More fuck, please more” he pants, hips stuttering into your hand. You can feel the sticky, hot precum that coats the tip of his dick and now your hand. You look up at him and see that he’s got his head tipped back, moaning about how hot you are, how good you are, how he’s thought about this since you saved him. Since you found him, how he’s been in love with you since he found you looking out into the horizon. Even before, he’s been in love with you since the beginning, since he saw you.
“You owe me this.” he breathes.
“What?”
He laughs again, the same one that haunts you.
“Don’t act like you didn’t know. I had you watched wherever you went, I made sure your siblings got into the school they wanted, fuck I even followed you here.”
He takes your hand in his, knows that your hand is coated in his pre cum, takes one of your fingers and licks it up the length. His eyes ever leave yours as he does.
“You should thank me.” He deadpans, cock still throbbing and hard when he stands up at full height.
“Thank me.” He repeats the length of his dick is on your face, rutting against your cheek until the tip meets your lips.
“Yeah, that's how you should do it.” He smiles, the one that meets his eyes. The genuine one.
He’s holding on to the back of your head before you can move. He doesn’t care if your hair is messy, it's almost dry now. He takes your hand again, planting it onto his thigh for leverage.
His grip returns to the base of his cock, tapping the tip on your lips again.
You don’t open your mouth, new tears building up in your waterline. He shows no remorse for what he’s doing, no concern, he thinks he deserves this. It’s the least he deserves for what he’s done for you.
He pinches your nose, catching you when you part your lips to shove his length into your mouth.
You cry, struggling to breathe at the pace he starts at.
“Woulda been so gentle to you if you would have been good, fuck.”
He seethes, eyes rolling into the back of his head when both of his hands are holding your head to match his hips. Your nails are digging into his thighs, your strength unmatched for how you try to push yourself off of him as he pulls you forward on his length. He can’t handle the hot, wet, tightness of the back of your throat.
“Fuck yes, more, more, more” he chants, pinching your nose again to see you panic when you look up again, he loves you like this. When your chin is covered in spit and tears and his balls hit you with every rut of his hips.
“God, gonna paint your fucking face, slut. Gonna cover you in my cum so you can never forget who you belong to”
You can feel that he’s getting close, he grants you grace for only one second before he’s holding your jaw in his hand again.
You take in gulps of air, coughing, and crying while he forces you to look at him.
“Don’t run from me again.” He seethes, forcing you back down on his length.
He’s ruthless this time, uncaring for the way your eyes can’t focus, or how you look like you’re going to pass out. You’re vision keeps going in and out, you can hear yourself. How you choke and gag around his length how he curses with each “ack. ack. ack” of his dick hitting the back of your throat.
“Gonna cum—shit”
He pulls you off, using one of his hands to keep you in place while he jacks himself off with the other.
“Say it, say who you belong to.”
You can’t understand, hazy vision threatening to go black.
“Fuck, say it and I’ll cum. I’ll cover your fucking face and never leave you. You understand? You’re mine. “
You don’t know what he’s rambling on about. You want to plead with him, talk this out and let him know he could pursue someone else.
“Ajax” you rasp.
“Yeah? You belong to me don’t you? Oh fuck—“
He groans, doesn’t hold his voice back, calling you all sorts of names but mostly that you’re his, his, his.
His cum on your face should be enough to prove it. He looks at you like a masterpiece, taking his finger and dragging it through his cum and putting it into his mouth before kissing you.
“Don’t let anyone else see you like this.”
#tartaglia smut#childe smut#ajax smut#genshin impact smut#tartaglia x reader#tartaglia x you#tartaglia x y/n#tartaglia scenarios#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact x y/n#genshin ajax#genshin scenarios#childe x reader#childe x you#childe x y/n#childe scenarios#childe drabbles#yandere childe#cw dubcon#cw yandere#cw stalking#cw degradation
918 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! May I request a scenario of Childe and his s/o the morning after their first time?
Hi anon, of course you can! I've turned it into a reaction featuring multiple characters because this is really sweet
The morning after your first time with the Genshin Men
Summary: waking up next to your boyfriend after the first time you have sex together. Genre: fluff. Warnings: mentions of sex, nudity (m and f), mention of losing virginity, mature themes. Featuring: Childe, Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Wriothesley
CHILDE
The sun shone through the window, the light waking you up. Childe grunted softly, "don't leave, comrade." You smiled softly, body still sore from last night. "I'm not going anywhere, Ajax." Tartaglia kissed your neck softly, pulling you close to him. "You should have told me you were a virgin," he said softly. You buried your head into his bare chest, "to have you go easy on me?"
Childe grinned, "to be fair, you can't win all the battles, my love." You smiled and rolled your eyes, "you wanna test that out, Mr. Harbinger?" Tartaglia chuckled loudly, "hm. What are you gonna say when I tell your friends you got ABSOLUTELY RAILED by the eleventh Fatui Harbinger?" You smacked him on his back, "I'd say he totally took advantage of an inexperienced girl. Then, Master Diluc has another reason to beat you up." And Childe gasped, placing his hand on his chest, "you would never!"
DILUC
It was a warm morning in Mondstadt. Diluc's hair was much longer than yours, and flowed under your body. It was ticklish behind the back of your bare neck. He moaned softly, eyes opening slowly. "M-morning,' he yawned, looking at you with his beautiful red, tired eyes. You giggled softly, "good morning, Master Diluc."
Diluc blushed, his cheeks were almost as red as his hair. "Good morning," he smiled, kissing your lips. "Will you marry me?" He murmured. Your jaw dropped open and you let out a loud laugh, "surely it was wasn't that good! It was my first time, after all." He grinned, kissing you again, "yes it was, but I also just want to wake up next to you every day." Before pulling you close for another kiss, bringing the blanket over the two of you.
KAEYA
"Hey, beautiful," Kaeya's raspy voice filled your ears, "did you sleep well?" You rolled over to face him, he had been spooning you before. You blushed, "very well, Sir Kaeya." He chuckled, tracing lines across your body, making you shiver, the touch both foreign and familiar. "Come on, honey, we're way past the formalities, aren't we? Or shall I still call you Traveller, hmm?"
You shook your head and he grinned, "I remember when we first met in Jean's office. You were so lost, and yet you still kept looking at me with an amazed face, like you were checking me out. From that moment on, I already knew I liked you. Thank the Archons that you came to me asking to teach you to swordfight properly, huh? Who knows if we would even interact privately if it weren't for that," he brushed away a loose strand of your hair. You shoved your head into his neck, "Archons! Don't remind me! I was so innocent and desperate back then!" Making Kaeya laugh loudly, kissing you and shaking his head. "My, my, look at you. Not so innocent anymore, hmm?"
ZHONGLI
Zhongli did not sleep that night. After you had sex and drifted off to sleep, he was still processing everything. He had never had sex before, and he could smell that you hadn't either. There was a certain purity in your scent that he did not smell in others. For some reason, even after mating with you for the first time, it was still there. The whole night, as you lay next to him, breathing puffy little breaths, he watched you sleep, promising himself that he would protect you until the end of time.
You were the only kind of treasure he ever truly loved.
Zhongli pretended to sleep as soon as he sensed you waking. There were still many secrets he had hidden from you, and he wished not to scare you away. Zhongli had always seen sex as something necessary, even though he had never had sex before. He always smelled lust on other humans, but with you, he'd only ever smelt purity, and now he knew sex was so much more. Your eyes fluttered open and you turned to him, "good morning," whispering the words. Zhongli smiled, "good morning, my Qingxing. Would you care for a cup of tea?"
WRIOTHESLEY
Wriothesley's voice was deep and husky, the sound waking you up. The bed was so warm, you didn't want to get up. Wriothesley smiled, blue eyes shining. "Good morning, beautiful. How do you feel?" You giggled softly, "so good, Mr. Duke," making him grin, rolling his eyes. "I had a really good time last night," you breathed softly. Wriothesley blushed, "I had a really good time last night too, my love."
You giggled again, looking into his eyes. "I'd marry you right now," he murmured, "if you'd let me," you blushed, "I'd marry you right now, too, Your Grace, but if I'm not correctly mistaken, I do believe that's the Chief Justice banging at your door." Wriothesley sighed, pulling you close and kissing him. "Stay for the week?" He murmured. You smiled, kissing him back, "I think I'll be staying for a while, Your Grace."
The pounding on the door got louder. "WRIOTHESLEY!" Yelled the Chief Justice, "I KNOW YOU'RE WITH THE TRAVELLER! OPEN UP NOW OR I SHALL SENTENCE YOU!" there was another loud bang, and a high-pitched voice shrieked outside the door, "PAIMON KNOWS YOU'RE IN THERE, YN!!! THE WHOLE FORTRESS COULD HEAR YOU!!!"
GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST
NAVIGATION
The other requests are on their way!!! Hope you like this, anon!
#tartaglia#diluc#kaeya#wriothesley#zhongli#tartaglia smut#diluc smut#kaeya smut#zhongli smut#wriothesley smut#childe#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x you#genshin#tartaglia fluff#diluc fluff#kaeya fluff#zhongli fluff#wriothesley fluff#tartaglia x you#kaeya x you#diluc x you#wriothesley x you#zhongli x you
915 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
doctorfodder1969
Animal Vegetable and Miserable.
dekabeza
LIBERAR PARTE DE LO VOLÁTIL
jamiekeikohair
Jamie Keiko
nahyeyeon
욕망탐구 오딧세이 by 혜연
