#ajax drabbles

[angelbvnny]

Hello hello hello hihihi i read your "nap time" fic thing and i really luked it and i saw your requests were open so so can i request childe with a black cat personality type reader? Like they give off an intimidating vibe and dosent talk much but when theyre with him they get ao affectionate and clingy coz they feel safe with him<3 (but still gets flustered easily) reader still dosent talk much but shows that they love him through physical touch and gift giving :D

(Sorry if this was long TT)

Childe x Black Cat Reader

EEEE this is so cute thank you for the request! This is also my first request so i hope you enjoy <3

Sfw, gn!reader, fluff

You're a rather intimidating person. It's not like you do it on purpose, but your natural resting face is off putting, and you aren't one to initiate conversation. So you can imagine everyones surprise when they see someone as sociable and outgoing as Childe hanging out with you. Let alone have his arm draped around your waist!

Although the two of you couldn't be more different, Tartaglia loves you more than air itself. And he gets weak at the knees knowing you feel the same about him. He finds it so endearing how you cling onto him any time he's over, and how flustered you get when he reciprocates :) he also finds it very cute when you buy him little gifts you think he'd like. His once rather barren room now filled with little reminders of you.

But his favorite thing that you do is when you visit him at work! Of course only on days when he's working on paperwork in his office, he would never want put you in to any kind of danger. But despite what most might think, these are the hardest days for Tartaglia. Being stuck crammed in a room with nothing more than to read documents and sign papers, it drives him up the wall! He becomes more irritable by the minute, feeling like he will snap at any moment.

That is until you arrive :) and he feels all the tension and stress in his body dissipate as soon as he sees you. As you close the door he pushes his chair back, opening his arms to you. You don't waste a second hopping in his lap, holding him. On these days you're always sure to bring him a meal with plenty of nutrition to keep him fueled for the rest of the day. As the two of you share the meal, he tells you all about his day so far as you intently listen <3

I had so much fun writing this! It helped me get out of my writing block ^^

[elysian-edu]

rich husbands who make their whole life about taking care of you.

oh, that necklace you glanced at while at the mall? now you're there trying several other ones on because "they all look perfect on you."

the dress you looked at through that shop window? bought. plus anything else you even remotely wanted.

that snack you crave almost all the time? he almost buys the whole business for you just to have them as often as you'd like. (in moderation of course!)

rich husbands who don't understand why you want to work, and every time you tell them why they simply say:

"i can provide more than enough for the both of us, but go ahead."

rich husbands the second they see you all stressed and tired from that job, call in and quit for you.

and when you try to get up the next morning to go to said job, he ushers you back to bed, lays you down and tells you to "not worry about that pesky job again."

rich husbands who like to make it known to everyone that you're married to him.

buys you the biggest rock you've ever seen adorned on your finger to propose to you, and makes it his routine to see if you have his ring on. (which you always do.)

indirectly flaunts it to passersby's by holding your hand, occasionally picking your hand up to inspect it, and trying not to crack a smile as he hears women gasp, and whisper, "she's one lucky woman."

rich husbands who tell everyone they know about you, whether that be coworkers, family, or random people, he'll always somehow flip the conversation to being about you.

"oh that? my wife is quite fond of it, yes."

"that reminds me of my wife, she quite likes those things. often calling them "cute.""

rich husbands <33

[saint-ajax]

when you married ghost , it's automatic that you're married to the rest. that's why they call it one for one. hubby's friend comes over with just you in your robe, nude underneath, and price needs a little taste? no problem captain hubby, lieutenant's consent and yours is given. soap is drunk and needs help with his boner? baby, im here, it's okay. you assure him while simon watch you two proudly. while, kyle, his big respect to the both of you hindrances his needs. simon appreciates that, big time. at the same time, we're family here sergeant. you nod and brush your palm on top kyle's lap to gently assure him as you agree with simon, yes, that's right. let me help you, sweety.

it's just something to love about the concept of your beefy husband casually fucking you whenever he wants, and letting other gigantic men who are very close to him, share you.

[foolisheval]

DRABBLE | MDNI !

Ajax wants to gag you whenever he fucks you in doggy because you're just too loud and he doesn't know when his siblings will be back from ice fishing. He would've made you suck on his fingers, but he's too busy grabbing handfuls of your ass. He'd rather not deal with someone's lectures after falling witness to your shaky legs and nasty mouth, but he can’t get enough of you.

You're so close to drooling all over your chin, moaning Ajax's name over and over just to rile him up a little.

"Do I need to gag you to shut you up, fuck!" He groans. "Should've used that throat instead, would've stayed quiet that way, hm? But—" His hips snap into your ass again, this time he's so deep that it almost hurts. "-Don't run away now. You feel so good."

You push your ass against him and that's all it takes for your Ajax to fold. He nearly doubles over your back and his thrusts turn into ruthless, forceful slams, as if his entire being has been altered by the mere push of your hips.

Ajax is completely lost in his own little world, ears deaf to your desperate cries and pleas of "A-Ajax, slow down!" or "No more! 's too much!"

He swears you’ll be the mother of his children one day.

[madaqueue]

f!reader - 18+ MDNI (briefly going down on you and then just him fucking you + praise…hhh need him so bad - wk: 0.5k)

childe is eager, almost impossibly so. eager for battle, for blood, for the way his heart lurches with a landed strike and beats loudly in its golden cage.

he’s especially eager, it would seem, tonight. with the way he yanks your clothes off, tearing a few seams too many (something to repair later, you think), the way he mouths at your cunt through the thin fabric separating him from your warmth.

the sharp, prolonged inhale from him is almost embarrassing, almost makes you cover your eyes to hide the heat staining your cheeks. you’d try, if you didn’t know him so well - there’s an eagerness to hear all your little sounds, to see your face twist and warp into pleasure, because of him. he’s making you feel this good, as his tongue travels a slow, tortuous path up your folds. he’s making you feel this good, as his lips curl and suck over your clit. every moan that drips from your throat is rewarded ten-fold, hot breath and his own low, vibrating sounds against your skin, his hips rutting into the mattress, not even seeking friction when they search desperately for more of you.

once you’re finally naked, shredded articles laying around the mattress in a heap, once he finally sinks into you and feels the sun washing over him, he finds himself eager once more: this time, for your praise.

“is that good?” he asks into the space above your collarbone, hot breath filling his lungs but left with no other option than to suck it in quickly, ravenously. the way his cock stretches you with each thrust only spurs him on, faster, harder. “you like that?”

when you nod, quickly, his teeth nip at the column of your neck.

“tell me, pretty.” hips slam into yours, skin and sweat and more, more, more. “tell me how good i make you feel.”

and you worry you can’t, can’t fill the ever-emptying hole inside him that needs a constant source of your love, your light. but you’ll try.

“so good,” you babble, words bubbling over your lips and into his. “so good, it’s so good. you’re so good.” you think your fingers are running through his hair; you think he smiles.

“yeah?”

“yeah.” and you think maybe you’re smiling too. “feels - ah - the best.”

a grin that’s all teeth; a thrust that has your back arching from the bed and further into him.

“never felt like this before, never felt so good.” and now, your fingers trace his cheekbones, and you wonder if you’ve ever looked at the sun with half as much adoration. “the best, ajax, you’re the best.”

at that, he whines, and fucks you harder. “it’s because nobody’s ever loved you like i do. right?”

“nobody.” sky-blue eyes meet yours, and you feel the question hiding behind the clouds. “i’ve never loved anyone like you.”

he lets the fire inside him burst when his thrusts pick up speed and lose their tempo altogether. lets you feel it in the boyish giggle that morphs into a moan of your name when he hears you whispering ‘i love you, i love you, i love you.’ eats up the words and your lips, hungry, aching, begging. swallows them with an eager tongue and smiles.

a/n: yearning for him in a way that’s soooo normal (i would pull the sun from the sky and hand it to him with burnt palms)

[yandere-sins]

This idea came to me and I've waited a long time to actually write it, but the time is finally here!! I dedicate it to the Tsaritsa's handmaiden!reader anons, I got so overwhelmed back then that I just dropped the topic which was really not fair of me. Hope you guys enjoy!

Characters: Yandere!Childe (Genshin Impact) x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Exhibitionism, Public sex, Non-Con, Pregnancy/Impregnation Kink Mention, Needy Male, Biting), Blood Mention, Possessiveness

Snow never tasted so bad in his mouth.

For as long as Childe could remember, snow had always been bland and froze his tongue as he shoved handfuls of it into his mouth. It was iron-y from the taste of his own saliva, cold like the lonely nights.

To him, it was home.

But he couldn't say the same about it anymore as he marched into the Tsaritsa's palace, a building frozen over with her grief and suffering. It was beautiful in its own way, and yet, no concern of his. The snowflakes caught in his mouth as he had conquered the snowy path to the entrance, had not tasted like home. They tasted like an attempt to dissuade him, slow him down to get to the one true warmth he longed for.

It's been months since the last time he buried himself in your cunt.

Months of loneliness, of longing. Months that Childe spent palming his cock in the most indecent places, imagining you were there to take care of his need instead. But your image wasn't enough. It didn't thrill him the same way as chasing you did. Didn't fulfill him like the nights he spent searching every nook and cranny for you, only to be unable to find you, so he would go to your place of rest to fuck your pillow instead to release the tenstion.

It was nothing like that one time he managed to pin you down into the snow, push your skirt out of the way, and sink into you for only a moment. A brief moment that he was carelessly lost in the pleasure of your sweet, warm pussy, making it easy for you to escape out from under his grasp and disappear into the night without him fucking you properly. He could remember what it felt like to be buried inside you, but could never replicate that feeling with anyone else. Childe had been sent on this awful, long mission before he could finish what he started, all while longing for you.

Even now, he wasn't sure if the sight of you, standing behind the Tsaritsa's throne, would make him lose all control. If he could keep his composure in front of his boss when his cock was ready to burst at the smallest glimpse of you. Even if his memories grew hazy, his cock would always remember the feeling of being enveloped by you, longing to return to and unite with your sex.

Imagine the surprise when he entered the great hall, brilliant blue eyes scanning the even more brilliant white everywhere for a speck of warmth reflecting from frozen pillars, only to find none. "Tartaglia," the Tsaritsa called out, a polite, kind smile on her lips even though nothing about her screamed friendly, and he winced, forced to direct his focus where it mattered.

Even though everything screamed at him to go find you.

It was a long, unnecessarily edging meeting. Childe could barely contain himself, the nervousness of knowledge that you must be around somewhere as the Tsaritsa's handmaiden, killing him from the inside. There was an unusual sheen of sweat collecting on his forehead as he occasionally dared to look away and scan the room. It was so unlike him to be this much on edge, as if he was high on drugs—which you were to him—but the throbbing of his cock never let him live down the idea of finally burying himself in you.

"That will be all."

These four words were enough to make him snap. He uttered a barely audible, "Thanks, bye," before storming back the way he came from, leaving everyone in attendance a little more confused than before. There was always so little time to catch up to you, the chase neverending as you had proven over and over. In the hallway, servants were mingling, cleaning and repairing things, all of them faceless and looking the same to him, not worth bothering with.

Childe weaved between the countless maids and butlers, the guards standing around straightening up ever so slightly as he passed them by. He caught glimpses of everyone but dismissed them as soon as he realized they weren't you. He'd have known you from the tip of your nose, even though everyone wore the same clothes and headwear, looking almost like Dottore's clones with hardly any distinctions. Normally, Childe didn't care for the servants, but at that moment, he hated them. No matter how good he was in figuring you out, every second he could save from searching could be spent with his cock between your thighs.

People came and went as he scouted through the hallway, checking over his shoulder as if he was the one being hunted. Haunted, was probably more correct, as the thought of you was like a ghost that ran shudders down his back and made his cock throb. The hallway was branching off into smaller, less crowded areas. Fewer servants, fewer guards, more places to sneak into and hide as you always did.

He was desperate to find you, but without even a hint, Childe grew restless and hopeless at the same time. It wasn't often he felt the latter, his shoulders sacking ever so slightly as he raised his eyes to the ceiling, mustering the intricate, frozen decorations made on the building. They were beautiful. Like you. Rarely seen and yet, ever so perfect and admirable. But they also left him with a sense of longing as they were so unreachable. Would it be the same for you?

Taking a deep breath, the cold managed to clear his mind, thoughts so heated from his desire that he hadn't been able to really focus. You had to be somewhere, even if hidden from his sharp eyes. But no matter how well you could hide, Childe had long figured you out enough to find you anywhere.

Squeak.

He smirked.

He knew the sound better than anyone. It was a sign, obviously, as you still wanted him to come and find you. Otherwise, you'd have thrown away your old shoes in favor of new, not squeaky ones to break in before his arrival, regardless of the fact that they had been a gift of the Tsaritsa. The cold had already crept into his bones as he turned his head to the left, one squeak enough to tell him which of the countless, branching hallways you were in.

Even with everyone else moving around him, time seemed to slow as he took soundless steps towards where you dusted an old, unlit fireplace. He imagined this chase after his long absence to be grand, to completely wear you two down to the point you'd be lazily fucking in an empty room from exhaustion. But you had chosen a more direct approach, hiding in plain sight and yet, still apart from the crowd.

Childe could tell from the way you dusted that fireplace, your posture straight, head held high, lightly flicking the feather duster over the stone, that it was you. Undoubtedly. He saw the slight flinch in your posture as you noticed him from the corners of your eyes, his presence too strong to ignore with his fiery gaze burning holes into you. You turned, ready to leave in a hurry again and make him hunt you down like you seemed to love so much, but Childe was faster.

You must have underestimated what an obsessive need could do to someone's ferocity. Especially someone like Childe, who was out of control even without your influence. He crossed those last few steps without a sound, and yet, faster than you could step away from the fireplace, one of your gloved hands landing on the intricate stone rim as Childe's arm wrapped around you, his hand gripping between your thighs and pulling your ass against his fully erect cock.

A moment of complete silence passed you both, neither moving but waiting for the other to make a mistake that would either make or break this closeness. It was Childe who broke the silence first, taking a deep, audible breath before breathing it out, his face burying into the nape of your neck, pressing his lips to the small rim of skin above your collar.

"Found you. Missed you," he whispered, his grin widening while he placed his legs next to yours, forcing you to face towards the fireplace again and caging you there. His hands driving down your sides, you made a push backwards, your strength immaculate, especially when it caused your plush asscheeks to wrap around his shaft. Childe bit his lip, almost ready to explode from that alone, but luckily, the layers of fabric between you two took out some of the edge.

No one stopped to help, even as your hands curled into fists, and he gripped the fabric of your skirt, bundling it upwards. Childe cared very little for the servants passing by you two, unable to see much but they weren't stupid enough to interfer, stearing clear of him. He could feel the intricate fabric of your stockings, hooking his fingers around the garterbelt that kept them up and letting it snap back in place, making you flinch.

You must have been infuriated, body shivering ever so slightly as you tried to wring yourself out of his hold, Childe's fingers digging so deep into your skin that he was drawing blood. He couldn't see your face, but Childe knew it took everything you had to keep your composure, your little promise to the Tsaritsa already known to Childe. You couldn't kill him, even if you wanted.

Honestly, it excited him even more thinking about you trying to stab him.

Fingertips grazing your panties lightly, Childe felt the shape of your cunt, applying pressure to open your lips so he could test the waters. Did you miss him, too? Did you anticipate this as much as he had? Would he find you wet and ready for him after all this time apart? Childe couldn't imagine that the thought of his return didn't excite you even just a little. That your heart didn't race knowing you'd have to tiptoe around him again.

Eagerly, he curled his fingers over and over, thumb flicking your clothed clit as he caressed your pussy. Despite his own cock straining and pressing against his pants like crazy, demanding to be freed from its prison, he made sure to prepare you first, willing to wait if it meant you were ready to take all of him immediately. Who knew how much time he had before bursting. Everything had to be perfect this time.

You twisted in his hold, his hand grabbing your breast and squeezing it hard to secure you in place. It gave him the pleasure of hearing you whimper once as you straightened instead, his weight at your back pushing you towards the cold stone in front of you as he played with your breast, making sure the cold would stimulate you.

With his free hand, he loosened the buttons on your blouse, making the collar drop enough so he could pepper your skin with kisses, suckling at your nape before giving it a possessive bite. You shuddered, not allowing your sweet voice to ring out even if it hurt you, but to Childe, this was a necessary evil. A mark you couldn't erase so easily, proving to everyone and himself that you belonged to him.

"Mr. Ta- Tartaglia," you breathed out his Tsaritsa-given-name, and it had never displeased him so to hear it than when it fell off your lips.

"Ajax," he corrected, and you shook your head ever so slightly in refusal, angering him.

"This is inappropriate, please mind you manners," you tried to reprimand him, and Childe simply huffed a laugh into your ear, raising his hand with which he had petted your pussy to show you the strings of juices dripping from them.

"Don't try to be all goody-two-shoes when I felt you grinding against my hand."

"It's because this position is uncomfortable! Don't be crude!"

"Sure, if you say so."

Reaching between your legs again, you flinched as he dragged the nail of his thumb through your folds before disappearing to reach for his belt. Even with his patience, Childe had long surpassed his limits. The longer he waited, the more time he gave you to escape. You talking to him was rare enough, a clear sign that you were already plotting how to get away, and Childe realized he couldn't take another chase with his cock so painfully hard between his legs.

Like always, you struggled as you felt his shaft slip between your thighs, your plush skin welcoming him, and he groaned into your shoulder, ready to burst. Everything about you was so perfectly made for him, able to make him come in mere seconds. But if he had the choice between your legs and your now sopping wet cunt, he'd take the latter for now, your thighs a delicacy for another day.

He had to take the chance for as long as he could.

Drawing back his hips, he angled his shaft upwards, quickly using his hand to pull your underwear to the side. You gasped as, without warning, he snapped his body forward, burying himself deep inside you with no regard, your insides clenching and holding on to him with a tightness that could only belong to you.

You were deliciously upset, trying to lift yourself off him, which he allowed, plunging you back down at the last second. Childe felt the pearls of precum rise and leak into you, his cock ready to give you a perfectly good reason to stay with him forever. A family sounded like such a good idea now that he was back and ready to settle with you after the endless chases you two had in preparation for this moment.

Pushing you forward, Childe forced you up on your tiptoes, your knuckles turning pale as you gripped the rim of the stone fireplace in front of you. At the same time, your other hand had reached back, fisting his shirt to the point of ripping at it. Did you want him to not leave you so desperately? Adorable.

"So... good..." he mumbled into your shoulder as he pressed his cock even further inside you. Hilting you simply wasn't enough; Childe wanted to fill every inch of you, leaving no space for anyone else in your head and body. "You feel so good around my cock, baby."

"S-Stop!" you demanded, your voice cracking as Childe slammed his cock forward.

"I've waited so long for this, no chance I can stop now."

With very little movement outwardly, Childe humped you, reaching always an inch deeper every time he lodged his cock inside. You clutched his clothes, trying to tear them away and him off you. Still, he kept going, grunting softly into your shoulder, anticipating every sweet sound you suppressed by biting your tongue.

"S-Sir!" You wanted to sound stern, but instead, you mewled.

"Ajax," he growled back, picking up the pace as punishment for calling him the wrong name again.

Everyone could see what was happening between the poor maid and the Harbinger, but no one dared to say anything. Childe made sure that they couldn't see anything they weren't supposed to, by hiding you from view with his body and cloak. But the sounds you two made, albeit muffled, made most of the staff scurrying around you two blush and hurry by.

He didn't care.

All that mattered was your soft, squelching cunt opening up for him and swallowing his cock like a playful little temptress. He could kiss your soft skin and smell the expensive scents that the Tsaritsa made you wear, all while nibbling, assaulting, and marking you like the madman he was. You were everything, capturing every thought and sense of his as Childe felt himself come undone.

"So tight," he groaned, leaving almost no space between your bodies.

His hips picked up the pace, more desperate and eager than before. Soon enough, he lowered the arms he had caged you with, digging his fingers into your hips instead, guiding your flesh up and down his shaft to get himself off. Soon, he'd give you a beautiful little family and you'd forever warm his bed, ready to take his cock at any given time. The chase, although he'd miss it, would come to an end if your belly was round and swollen with his child and he'd get to take a different job around Snezhnaya so he could go home to you and the kid every evening and proceed to fuck you senseless every night. It would be a dream come true—a final, successful hunt.

You were letting out the prettiest gasps as you reached for his wrists, trying to break them with how crushing your grip was, but even so, Childe wouldn't let go. He was obsessed with finally finishing inside you, claiming you in a way no one else had. You were a shuddering mess impaled on his cock and he'd have not wanted you any other way.

Your cunt was dripping with juices by now, letting Childe know you were ready to cum and welcome his seed; ready to finally cave and become all his. You'd be such a pretty mommy, carrying his child and making him a daddy, all while trying to explain to everyone you worked with that you didn't get pregnant while you were assaulted in the hallway. You'd admit you did it with him on other occasions just to save face.

Childe would happily help this lie be more convincing.

Between grunts, he couldn't help but whimper as his thrusts became irregular and hard, all with the purpose to go as deep into you as possible and feel you completely. You were helping him, rocking your hips high and teasing his tip with your shuddering walls until he was finally close enough to taste the sweet release.

Childe groaned loudly, feeling his cum rush through his shaft when you suddenly pushed away from him. There was too much to think about and focus on, and his brain was overwhelmed with all the tasks, giving you the chance to escape. Your breaths were heavy as your cunt slipped off his dick, and you let out a soft gasp before pushing your skirt down and walking off quickly with your gaze lowered, not looking at anyone or anything.

You left him behind to fend for himself.

Unable to stop it, Childe spilled his cum all over the freshly cleaned fireplace, strings of white seeping into the stone pitifully as his seed was wasted on it. He couldn't think straight; he just kept coming pitifully, with his head fallen back and his hips jutting into the air.

You fucking minx.

Leading him on and then disappearing. You waited until the last moment for your escape, ruining everything Childe had built up to. What about your orgasm? Your pleasure? Could you just endure leaving without? Would you get it from someone else?

Panic and anger zapped through him as the last of his cum shot pitifully out of him. He'd not let anyone else make you orgasm. Not another servant, a lover, not even the Tsaritsa! Maybe he didn't finish like he wanted, but that gave no one else the right to enjoy themselves with you. You were his and his alone.

A grin spread over his lips as he stared at the cold, intricate patterns on the ceiling once again. Now, they looked so much more beautiful, even as they were unreachable. Because you weren't. He found you once and he'd find you again, his cock twitching as anticipation spread through him. He'd make you cum so hard, you'd see stars. And then again and again until you could think of nothing else but him, bewitching you in the same way you had him. You'd want no one else, unable to think of anyone beside Childe and his cock when he was done with you.

Once more, the chase was on.

And Childe wouldn't want it any other way.

[miyaz6ki]

childe takes you out as he's finally back from his travels in snezhnaya, and takes you out on a stroll, your arm around his as he describes to you all his adventurous tales.

he subconsciously buys you, and personally one of his favorites- grilled tiger fish!

as you take a bite, sitting down onto a bench nearby, hearing him speak.

he suddenly stops to look at your face, his orbs scanning your appearance.

"comrade, you—" he doesn't complete his sentence, simply pointing over his cheek, which happens to be bandaged. his small wounds from your sparring session with him still healing.

his face was mostly—mostly—serious yet you couldn't tell if he was trying to be playful or not.

so you land a peck onto his cheek, right over the very covering you had put over his face earlier that day.

yet the ginger haired harbinger couldn't help but blush, even if he'd been very open to compliments—this one of the first times you had actually...

"you...!" "what?" "prince/ss... I meant you had a few crumbs on your cheek."

"oh"

[graveantics]

Read my mind (and heart)

A drabble i made back in march about a mind reading!reader and a pathetic yearning loser childe

*italics for thoughts

"You're avoiding me."

You do nothing but avoid his eye contact, trying to let go of the grip he has on you. But he noticed and tightens his grip Don't run away from me again.

"....I've been busy." No you haven't.

"No you haven't." Oh hey that's what you just thought.

"Did...You find out..? Is that why you're avoiding me?" he looks at you. Do you hate the idea of me being in love with you that much.

His thoughts stab into your guilty conscience. "I..Um. May have known from the beginning." Silence from Childe's end. However not very similar, are his thoughts.

How!? Did Xiao tell them. Was I really that obvious. DID HE TELL THEM ABOUT THE SONGS—

"Please stop thinking." He blinks at your words. His normally crowded mind is finally quiet since the first time you met him. "Xiao didn't tell me anything, and you weren't too obvious." Childe's brows are furrowed, you watch his expression shift from shock to understanding as he puts the pieces together. "Did you...read my mind...?"

This time it's your turn to be silent. You only nod, with eyes averted away. The overwhelming guilt that you've held since developing this power envelops you.

"I'm really sorry, it's incredibly intrusive of me. And I don't really know how to NOT do it so I couldn't help it. I understand if you think it's freaky of me to be knowing your secrets—"

I told my friends I'd gladly write a 5000 word essay on how beautiful you are when you smile.

"W..What?"

I bought clothes online that are couples special because I imagine us wearing them on dates

"Childe!"

I didn't come in on Valentine's day because i got so excited about giving you chocolates, That I couldn't sleep the whole night and passed out till noon.

"YOU WHAT?"

"You really can read my mind." Childe finally speaks.

"You tested me by airing out all your embarrassing secrets? You really have no shame Childe."

He only grins at that, with red visibly tinting his cheeks It is embarrassing, so much that I want to bury myself alive. But that means you know how serious I am about you. He grabs your hand, it's warm. The sound of his heart and real voice overlaps.

"I wouldn't be able to hide it from you forever. I like you a lot, [name]."

[f0ofishies]

fratboy!childe, yes in this goddamn college of yours. There was a big clique, the fatuis.. yes, they do trouble, and yet all of them have never been expelled– even after some heinous acts they've done in the past.

Now, Childe or Tartaglia was a sophmore.. the same as you are. You don't know how many alias the man has. Somehow, you took the same major, and now you're stuck with a partner who literally does nothing except partying, getting drunk and the other stuff– you shouldn't and won't want to know the details.

He's flat-out drunk as he looks over at you from the bed, your hands on the laptop doing the work again. "Mmm, doing the project again?" His words slurred, his blue dull eyes staring straight at the back of your head.

"Yeah, because someone clearly doesn't want to help–" A laughter erupted the dim lit dorm room. "I helped–" "By making a title only." The sounds of the keyboards clicking only filled the room.

"Sorry angel.." That Russian accent of his slipping off, his ginger haired, fell against your pillow. "Apology not accepted..!" Your voice hushed, being deeply annoyed at how lax he was. Though he was one of the students who could pass even without doing much.

Light footsteps echoed through the room, he spun your squeaky chair around. "Cmon, deary.. forgive me.." He huffed a bit, his pale finger reaching a loose hair strand. You turn bright red at that.

"Red.. such a nice colour on you– hmm?" He was amused at your face. So gorgeous he thought..

So why then, are you arching your back for him? It gave him plenty of access to just look at your ass twitching just from how hard he was going from behind. "Red.. such your color huh?" He giggled, looking at one of your swollen ass cheeks.

The implications of what he did to your poor bum, was totally his fault. "ah..ah–!" The noises you were making for him, the way your walls was sucking him real tight was too good. "ffuuck.. you're– agh grippin.. me real tight.." He was vocal with it too, poor your other colleagues if they could hear it.

Hell, even your bed was moving on the verge of breaking from this man. He may not look like it, but he has so much strength to just flip you over your back. His calloused hand wiping your tears, as your pleas goes on deaf ears to him. He'd pull out, edging both of you at the process.

His tip trailing your hole, making you whine. "shit– Ajax.. no– no fair mmph!" You whined, your hands all up in his ginger hair. Another passionate kiss from you two. There was even a hint of sparkle in that blue eyes of his, as your saliva connected.

"Nah, these lips s' good.. need a breather..."

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Mentions of Blood

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Yandere!Childe who stares at you with the most loving, affectionate eyes imaginable. When he is home, he trails behind you from room to room, desperate for your attention and love, for sweet little kisses and quips. Yandere!Childe who loves combat and fighting and the thrill of a hunt, except when it comes to you. Oh, how he hates it when you try to run; he wishes he could kiss all your fears away. The idea of you in pain is unfathomable. Childe knows his hands are stained with blood, but whenever he returns home to you, for just a short period of time, he can be clean.

Yandere!Childe who wishes he didn't have to whisk you away to a safe and secluded cabin in Snezhnaya, but knows that if any of the Harbingers find you, it only gives them more leverage against him. He can't let that happen. Can't let them take you away from him. Every time he intertwines your hands with his, he swears you have magic in your bones, a piece of divinity tucked away in your soul. You heal the invisible wounds that mar his mind. Yandere!Childe who watches fondly as you drift off into sweet dreams one night, brushing away a strand of hair from your face. So fragile. So beautiful. So powerful. You're so dangerous that you have disarmed one of the Fatui Harbingers, tamed him beneath your unwilling touch. Yandere!Childe who wields his delusions like weapons. You don't hate him, you're simply adjusting. Soon enough the two of you will be dancing to invisible music on hardwood floors and cuddling on couches, protected by wood walls from the harsh chill of winter. And even if it takes time, he'll be sure to pierce your heart eventually with his love, and claim victory in this battle.

[yourlittlegoblin]

{Promises in the Rain} Tartaglia x Reader

Childe was the worst kind of boss—the cocky, smug, "I fight for fun" type who somehow still managed to look good doing it. You didn't ask for this assignment. You didn’t ask for him. But here you were, trudging through some forsaken forest at the edge of Liyue because he wanted to check something out “personally.”

Of course.

Then, as if the world itself agreed with your suffering, the sky cracked open with a thunderous boom and rain came pelting down in icy, relentless sheets.

You hissed and yanked your cloak tighter, teeth chattering. “Great. Just perfect.”

Beside you, Childe—Tartaglia, as he always insisted during “official business”—only laughed, water streaking down his already-drenched hair. “What, don’t like a little rain, comrade?”

You glared at him, flipping your hood up. “I don’t like you, comrade.”

He had the audacity to grin. “And yet here you are, following me into storms. You sure it’s not love?”

“If it is, it’s the ‘I’m gonna kill you in your sleep’ kind.”

“Ooh, how passionate.”

"Archons above, I hope a boar charges through here and takes you out,” you spat, wiping rain from your eyes. “I cannot believe I’m out here, in the middle of nowhere, soaking wet, with you of all people.”

Childe raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed by your fury. “Language, comrade. You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“I kiss nobody with this mouth and you’re the reason why.”

He chuckled, completely drenched but somehow still annoyingly handsome. “You wound me. But lucky for you, I come prepared.”

He shrugged off his thick coat, holding it out toward you.

You stared at it like it was cursed. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s a coat.”

“I know it’s a coat, you glorified popsicle, why are you giving it to me?”

“You’re cold,” he said simply, stepping closer.

You took a step back. “Don’t you dare. I swear to every Mora in this rotten world, I will bite you.”

“I’d pay to see that,” he murmured under his breath, before, without another word, tossing the damn coat over both of you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You immediately flailed underneath it. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?! I will gut you like a fish! I will throw you into the harbor tied to a brick!”

“You’re so dramatic,” he said fondly, wrapping an arm casually around your shoulder under the coat to keep it steady. “Admit it. You love this.”

“What I love,” you growled, “is imagining you getting struck by lightning.”

“Ooh, how romantic.” He leaned a little closer, voice a smooth hum beside your ear. “First the rain, then the cuddling under my coat, then death threats. You know, some would call this a date.”

You hissed. Actually hissed. “You absolute menace of a man.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you grumbled, yanking the coat up higher over your head. “I don’t need anyone to protect me from the damn rain. I’m not made of sugar.”

“No,” he drawled, lips twitching, “you’re made of spice and fire and pure chaos. But even a storm like you needs a little cover sometimes.”

You shot him a look sharp enough to cut glass. “I swear, if you don’t stop talking in riddles and weird metaphors—”

He laughed, that low, warm sound that only made your blood boil hotter. “Alright, alright. Point is, I know you can handle yourself. Better than most, honestly.”

“Damn right.”

“But,” he added, leaning in just slightly, the coat tenting above you both, “I still want to protect you from the rain.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it nearly hurt. “Great. You’re a sap now. What’s next? Poetry?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “And not just the rain. I’ll protect you from everything. Anything that ever dares to come close.”

You blinked.

Wait.

What?

The words hit like a sudden clap of thunder, out of place and far too real in the middle of all your usual jabs and snarls.

“…Wait what—?”

But Childe just smirked, infuriatingly smug, like he hadn’t just turned the whole atmosphere on its head. “You heard me.”

You stared at him, heart stuttering in a way you hated, rain still falling around you like a curtain pulled tight.

“…I’m gonna throw you in a river.”

He beamed. “So long as I’m tied to your heart, I’ll happily drown.”

“Oh my god.”

“Wrong Archon, sweetheart.”

Sorry I made this at like 3am---

[dreamer81093]

That feeling of the stomach churning but not enough to puke. It’s a rotting that has settled within the bones and makes them creak. The heart cracks and pulses, ichor seeping through the corners. It drips. It’s an unsettling feeling, one that makes the skin crawl. A shiver down the spine, a hand clutching the abdomen. It throbs and squeezes, the life trying to leave. It burns. It’s a sickness in the stomach, a plague to the heart and mind. It’s him without you.

[foolisheval]

DRABBLE - men who overstimulate

MDNI! sexual content ahead!

✻ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. men who like to overstimulate— whether that be by accident or intentional (Scaramouche, Xiao, Tartaglia)

✻ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. overstimulation, bratty! afab! Reader, creampie, praising, implied unbalanced power dynamics (Scaramouche), choking (Scaramouche), degradation (Scaramouche) Switch! Xiao and Fatui! Scaramouche (he drives me crazy)

didnt proofread and slightly slacked off with Ajax’s part. Mb gang

BALLADEER

The Balladeer? He's reckless when he's fucking you. He's all raw energy and unbridled passion, like a storm of thunder you can't control but can only surrender to. When the Balladeer's hands are on you, it's electric. Every touch sends shockwaves through you (quite literally) and every kiss feels hungry. As if he's trying to devour you whole.

Scaramouche will fuck you for hours if you ever dare to mouth off so don’t even think he’ll look past disorderly behavior. You’re his cute little subordinate after all. If his hands aren't firmly gripping your waist, then one of them is surely between your legs, his fingers working their magic with the kind of precision that only he seems to possess. Two fingers press into you, curling upward with perfect intent when they find that sensitive, gummy spot inside of you— the one that makes your knees tremble and threatens to steal the strength from your legs. Scaramouche’s other hand is no less active, the broad expanse of his palm pressing teasingly against your lower stomach. It's not just to make you feel more; it's to ensure you're at his mercy, unable to shift or chase after the rhythm he sets. He gives you only what he decides you’re allowed to have. And today, despite his day being ruined by your relentless teasing, he’s feeling unusually generous… perhaps even a bit too generous with the way he’s been overstimulating you.

You've always loved Scaramouche’s hands. You love the way they feel, the way they claim every part of you they touch, and especially the way his palm grinds against your clit when he slips a third finger inside. It's a delicious stretch, one that pulls wanton moans from your lips before you can even think to stifle them. It’s all too much. All too fast and too rough! But, god, you can’t get enough.

When frustration has been building up in him for far too long— he lets it show in the roughness of his words and touch.

That's when you feel his hand slide up to your neck, wrapping around your throat with a firm yet deliberate grip. “Fucking slut, huh? Yeah? You asked for this.”

XIAO

Xiao, who finally has enough of your teasing, your denial of the orgasm he was chasing and your constant mouthing off. He is so frustrated and annoyed that he flips the both of you over just so he can fuck you at the pace he's been aching for this entire night.

It takes you by surprise because the change is so sharp, as if a flip has switched. One second you're lazily riding the man, holding him down and bathing in his moans and whines for more. Denying him as often as your heart desires because you thought he'd let you.

And now you're beneath him, desperately gripping the sheets to try and find purchase as he fucks so hard and so fast that you're about to pass out. You've never been so full of him and still so hungry for more at the same time now that he's hitting spots inside of you that you didn't know existed in the first place.

Xiao holds you by your lifted hips, fucking himself into you like it would make up for the amounts of ruined orgasms you've brought him. And he does it so easily, handling you around like a doll made for his desires. "You’re impossible to handle,” He groans, the drag and pull of his fat cock rendering you speechless.

He knows you deserve the meanest of treatments. It would be just fair to almost drive you over the edge just to ruin every ounce of release once you're actually about to finish. Maybe he should've fucked your throat instead so he wouldn't have to deal with your attitude. Even now, all you do is complain and whine between broken moans and gasps for more. But, god, you feel too good, too warm and way too tight. The face you're making is motivation enough to keep on fucking you even after you've come.

Xiao rubs your clit, gifts you another orgasm, but he never slows his pace. And although Xiao fucks like he owns you, even he is moaning like a bitch when he empties his balls into you.

TARTAGLIA

There's nothing Ajax likes better than seeing your stupid colorful socks dangling over his shoulders as he fucks his fat cock into your gushing pussy. Your nails dig into his biceps, whining for him, telling him that it's too much but not pushing him away as he pounds you harder.

"A-Ajax!" Your eyes roll back whenever he hits that special spot inside of you, but Ajax isn't stopping until he's sure your pussy is filled to the brim. You're so close to drooling all over your chin, moaning his name over and over just to spur him on a little.

Ajax isn't exactly known to be a patient man, but he'll make an exception for you. Fucking you senseless is an art he's more than willing to practice over and over again until he's mastered it. It doesn't matter whether his balls are coated in your slick, or you babble incoherent sentences about how big he is, about how full you feel.

He knows he did a great job fucking you when he finally empties his balls into you and you gush around him like you've never before.

"you look-- s-shit! look so pretty like this. Pussy feels so fuckin' good, so fuckin' wet. Am I making you feel good, baby? C’mon, talk to me."

[madaqueue]

gn!reader - 18+ MDNI (remember when i said i wanted to ride him? yeah - wk: 0.6k)

the first time you ride childe, you think your body wasn’t made for it. no, not with the way your legs burn, your knees ache and heart lurches. you want him - archons, do you want him - but something about these mortal chains demands to keep you from him.

ah, but comfort comes so easily to him, doesn’t it? (not with everyone, you know - just with his new recruits, scared shitless and shaking; just with his family, when they welcomed him home the first time, covered in dirt from his fatui training; and just with you, it would seem.)

“that’s it, you’re doing great,” he hums, and you nearly collapse at the way each word rasps from his throat. but you can’t, not yet, not when he twitches inside you and smiles that endearing smile you fell in love with, the one that kept you up staring at the moon hoping to see him in it, the one that had you running through the streets of liyue hoping to find him, hoping he’d feel the same.

(he did - he welcomed you inside with open arms and the same gorgeous, crooked smile.)

“c’mon darling, you can do it.” it pulls you back for a moment, just long enough to catch the ocean-blue of his eyes, the freckles dotting his cheeks like stars. surely, his body doesn’t feel like giving out, not when it contains the very earth itself, the land and its heavens held within his skin and bones. no, certainly not, not when he thrusts up into you and pulls a moan from your throat. when he laughs, it sounds like the fog that settles over the harbor each morning just before the sun.

“don’t tell me you’re giving up already?”

a weak shake of your head, and you roll your hips. fingertips dig into your sides, ones battle-scarred and burned, ones you’d fall asleep kissing each night if you could. “i’m not - i’m not giving up.”

“good.” his grin is immediate, some mix of satisfaction and hunger. it’s served him well, the desire for more, more, more - a harbinger must always want, you think.

another thrust, and your head falls forward, buried into the space above his collarbones. “ajax,” you whine, and this time you don’t get to see the way his cheeks warm at hearing his name fall from your lips.

“i know, i know,” he soothes like a river, ever rushing and constant, smoothing the pebbles caught in its current. “but you’re doing so good for me, aren’t you? so good.”

(he wouldn’t tell you he’s just as lost in it, in the way you weakly grind forward into him, in the way you claw at his shoulders and breathe against his neck. he wouldn’t tell you, no, but he bites his lip, and pulls you closer, and runs a hand up your spine.)

because he knows you can do this. again, a weak thrust, and he thinks he’s about to fall apart just from the way you clench around him. when you whine into his ear, it’s nearly too much - when you whisper his name, another strained call of “ajax, please,” he loses himself.

scarred hands grab at your waist and hold you as he fucks himself up into you. it takes a shockingly short time before he’s shaking himself, before he’s letting out nonsense, garbled sounds that could only barely be construed into cries of ‘i need you, i want you, i love you.’ (ah, but you hear it - even when words don’t come easily to him, you know what they’re supposed to mean.)

when you flutter around him, a sign of your own release, it’s enough to send him with you; he comes undone with a beautiful groan, one that morphs into a chuckle, one that twinkles like the stars over the sea. a beautiful thing, one just for lovers. one his body was made for.

a/n: yeah….. yeah

[yandere-sins]

OMFG I absolutely LOVE your writing and the overall creepyness of it💕😩 May I request a yandere childe with a crybaby s/o who Gets scared way too easily? Ik this might be basic but I really wanted to interact with you 💗🥹

Aah, thank you so much, you're so sweet! Sorry it took me so long, but thank you for requesting and interacting with me, I appreciate it! I gave the reader a good reason to be scared this time, hope that is okay! ♥

Extra Warning for Murder, Blood Mention

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Shh, babe, what's wrong? You don't have to worry about them anymore."

A calloused hand caressed your cheek, the other arm wrapping around your body as Childe drew you close to him. You were shivering, sobbing in his embrace. Still, he didn't seem to mind at all, a gentle smile on his face as he cradled you, having had more than enough practice with comforting his siblings to know how to comfort you. With the weight of his head on top of yours, you were nestled perfectly in the crook of his neck, his hand wandering back to brush down your hair while the one at the small of your back rubbed its thumb up and down. It was a perfect hug for a perfect darling, as Childe liked to call you. But there was one thing off about it.

The stench.

The squishy, wet feeling smeared all over your cheek and soaked into your clothes, together with the biting, iron smell of blood that stuck to him. Or perhaps it came from the corpses that lay behind his body, shielding the view. Or maybe you were only imagining it. It was hard to believe that you had just watched people die, their deaths caused by this almost stranger's hands. These people were your friends, and yet you couldn't believe it was real.

"I-I'm scared," you stammered, barely able to get the sound out of your throat. "They- They're d-dead."

"Oh, that's true," Childe replied, his voice full of pity and gentle reassurance. As if it hadn't been him who killed them. As if it was a coincidence, you stumbled over the bodies when, really, your friends had been laughing and talking next to you just mere seconds ago before Childe struck them down out of cold-blooded malice.

More tears dripped down your cheeks, countless of them. You were in too much shock to scream and run, but the flow of tears seemed endless as regret, guilt, and horror mixed. You felt nauseated, and yet you couldn't throw up, couldn't do anything. Frozen in place, you listened to the rapidly beating heart of the monster comforting you, feeling Childe take a deep breath, letting it out with a content sigh.

Whatever he was feeling, he seemed... proud of it.

You whimpered miserably as he pressed you tighter against his chest, swaying you side to side before pulling away a few inches. Not enough to let go of you, just so much that he could look into your eyes. Instead of pupils, there was only endless darkness, the moonlight dimly reflected in them, causing swirls of infatuation in the madness that was his gaze on you. Even with barely any light, you could see your own scared reflection. The blood stain on your cheek, the shock etched in every inch of your features.

"You need to keep it together, babe," Child whispered, the same broad, boyish grin on his lips that he had the first time you met him. Where you still thought he was a good guy, helping you carry some groceries home and inviting you to see the festival with him. You had to tell him "no" back then, since you already made plans with your friends. But now, they were no more, and he remained. Only now, that grin was nothing short of psychotic, standing in stark contrast to his eyes so devoid of emotions and the gore on his clothes.

"The guards will be here soon. You wouldn't want them to find you covered in the blood of those people, would you? They might think you did it."

Humiliating as it was, you could see your features grow desperate as a sob escaped you, your eyes crinkling as more tears fell. Childe hushed you again, pressing his lips to your forehead and kissing it over and over as he told you everything would be alright. That he wouldn't let anyone take you or take the blame for him. You could only listen half-heartedly as your feelings threatened to take over your whole body, controlling it and cementing you in place.

It had always been this way for you; the tears were your lifelong friend. Crying was the reaction your body knew best, whether in good or bad situations, and there wasn't much you could do. As a child, you had been mocked for being a crybaby, and as an adult, you were pitied for not having better control over your emotions. Fear had been your constant companion. Whether it was about making a mistake or not feeling like you were good enough to finish a task. You soon began fearing your own incapability, but no one—sometimes not even you—understood that this fear was a force to be reckoned with, one you were completely helpless against.

Unless there was another person stronger than it.

"Aaand up!" Childe proclaimed, having stood up and gripped your hands in the time you spiraled into anxiety and desperation, the overwhelming guilt not helping. But suddenly, you were on your feet despite the tears still falling. Even though you didn't know how to move or act. First, he had comforted you for the crime he committed, and now he did what you had never managed before—pull you out of the trance of your fears.

"Let's go!" he announced chipperly, a slippery, bloody hand gripping yours so tight that it hurt. Jerking you forward, you could only watch Childe's back as he began to run, laughing carefreely as if the death of your friends didn't bother him. As if he was free, unbound by laws and those feelings, you felt so strongly.

Only when you looked down did you notice your own feet moving—rapidly, swiftly. You didn't need to look up as Childe led you through the labyrinth of people who were so occupied with the Lantern Rite in Liyue Harbor that they didn't notice the two blood-soaked individuals passing through.

Breathing was hard, moving was straining, and his grip on you was relentlessly painful. Yet, neither of you stopped until you were already partway up on a mountain outside the harbor, Childe panting just like you, trying to catch his breath. He collapsed with a groan on the dirty trail up the mountain, and with your hand still in his grasp, he pulled you down with him.

It should have hurt when your body was forced to give out, but you landed cushioned in his chest and on his lap. The vibrations of his laugh against your skin felt weird, your senses not yet having returned fully. Lifting your head, you saw the countless lanterns rise to the sky, illuminating it beautifully with the people's memories of those they lost—and you should have been there, lightning lanterns for your friends.

"There we go," Childe muttered, catching your attention as he wiped over your cheek, sticky skin against more sticky skin. Only now did you realize that your tears had dried up, and you looked at the monster that had both made you cry and took care to run them dry—literally.

"You're a pretty crier," Childe sighed, the glow of the lanterns returning some life to the blue in his eyes. Or perhaps the sight before him returned his emotions to him, making him almost look normal despite the red stains. "But I like you better when you're happy. One of us has to."

Leaning his head on your shoulder, Childe reached for your hand, giving it another tight squeeze. Above you, the night sky was filled with beautiful lights, the view even better than from the harbor itself, but you couldn't forget even a second of what had happened that day. That you weren't enjoying this view with your friends, but with some murderer you barely knew, who had pulled you out of the sadness in your heart, only to leave it empty, no feelings able to fill it.

"I'll keep you happy," Childe promised, a faint blush on his cheeks that reached up his ears. "Everything will be the way you want, so you don't have to cry anymore."

Only then did you realize what it truly meant to be afraid, sitting on the lap of someone who thought manipulating the world to his liking would make you happy. Someone who didn't bat an eye before killing an innocent soul. Someone determined to make you feel as empty as he was, just to keep you by his side.

And when Childe looked up grinning, you managed to wipe the smile right off his face, a tear dropping down your cheek.

[mooniiify]

Hiiii

Any thoughts about Wriothesley, Tarutaru and Diluc having their first date with reader? I need fluff aaaaa

ouuu alright let's see

wriothesley would have to go out of his comfort zone for your first date, since he wouldn't want your first official time out with him to be in a literal prison. he says it's a surprise even though when he first invites you, he has no idea where to bring you. he rarely goes out nowadays due to how demanding his job is, but the days before your first date, he goes around fontaine, checking out different places, curating his plan.

on the day of the actual date, he tries to tame his hair with sigewinne's help unsuccessifully and goes to pick you up from your home, unaware of the sticker on his shoulder, courtesy of sigewinne. he was just a little nervous at the beginning, but once you chuckled at the sticker and pointed it out to him, his anxiety grew. had he just made a fool of himself?

the date continued, though, which eased his nerves. he took you to a play you'd mentioned you've wanted to see for a while first, then to grab a bite at hotel dubord (at neuvillette's suggestion) where you spend the evening talking over nice desserts; at the end of the date, you point out the other two stickers wriothesley had over his jacket, making him groan and you laugh

tartaglia is more of the adventerious type, so i feel like he'd want to do something more interesting than just a typical date, especially if you're also into it. he'd probably think about suggesting to go fight something or someone, but he quickly realizes that wouldn't really make a good first date, so he goes back to the drawing board.

he just so happens to ask you out around lantern rite when he's also in liyue, so he thinks that would be the calmest way to spend the evening. after all, his goal is to make you smile, get to know you better and spend time with you and show off to make you fall for him more.

regardless, tartaglia is tartaglia, so once he gets to a game booth, he's playing. he'll get competitive with a kid and forget where he is for a moment, though after he wins a trinket, he gives it to you, proclaiming he'd won it for you only and definitely not because he just wanted to win, which happens a few more times throuhout the night.

at some games, he even challenges you and cheers you on when you beat him at some of them. even if this is just your first date, he's your biggest fan and would lowkey let you win just to see the smile on your face tbh.

overall the date goes rather well and tartaglia is already planning the second one which is to fight any treasure hoarder they come across bc he thinks you look badass when you fight

diluc is a rather simple man. he's traditional. he would invite you to the dawn winery for dinner (and maybe a sleep over if it gets too late). i feel like diluc is the type of man to have to know someone really well or be friends with them for a while before he could even consider dating them, so he's not nervous about the first date because he knows you, or he's trying to convince himself of that, at least.

he wants to make it special, so he asks the maids to leave the kitchen and leave him to make the meal himself. everyone but adelinde leave, as she was too scared to leave him alone in the kitchen. ten minutes in and she had to step in and help him.

regardless, he helped for the meal at least halfway. he promises himself then he'd do better next time and learn how to cook.

anyway, you arrive and he'd set the table by himself, using the red designed plates he'd inherited from his mother, as well as his finest cutlery. he takes your coat off of you and hangs it himself, then pulls your chair out for you. you giggle at how gentlemanly he's acting, but it's not unwelcome by all means.

the date passes calmly, with the two of you talking about anything and everything. it feels like an usual hang out for the two of you, though this time a bit more intimate, as you're not aware of each other's feelings. after dinner, the two of you end up on the couch in front of the fireplace, with diluc's arm around your shoulders and you snuggled into him, eventually falling asleep in each other's warmth.

thank you so much for the request! hope i delivered! requests are still open!