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under-wcrlds · 2 years

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circus (3)

—pairing; childe x afab!reader (NSFW) !!

Ajax was dead. Childe had killed him. Suffocated every ounce of him out of that weak, trembling body. He had done everything to eradicate every last remnant from this reality. But when you looked at him, you still saw Ajax. Ajax, that weak, cowardly fool. Childe new he had to destroy him from your memory as well.

—tags; physical implications of abyss childe (inhuman traits), childhood friends, estranged friends to lovers, kinda vanilla, biting, fingering

—warnings; injury, graphic description of blood, biting, unhealthy relationships, abyss childe, possessiveness NSFT- graphic depictions of sex (dry humping, fingering, penetration without protection)

{ Seasoned smut reader, unseasoned smut writer so sorry its bad lol }

part one

Previous Part

Your frantic heartbeat thundered over the soft crackle of the fire that silhouetted Childe’s tall form. There was an eerie smirk of triumph painted on his features. Even so, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. Ever since he’d disappeared all those years ago, the blue eyes that met yours always seemed unfamiliar, as if whatever you’d known in them had died. You would still catch glimpses of it every now and then, but the way they lit up was always during some sort of chaos, and never the same boy you knew. Now though, there was something familiar flickering there if you looked hard enough, hidden deep in the depths of unfamiliar aegean blue. You almost reached for him. As if seeing the hope of recognition in your own gaze, his expression hardened and he broke the moment, turning back to face the glow of the fire. A part of you was relieved. Released from his piercing gaze, the weight on your chest seemed to lift, allowing a brief reprieve as you did your best to gather your frayed thoughts. The Ajax of your memories never came close to terrifying. More often than not he was by your side, as equally terrified. And then everything changed. You had never seen Tonia so frantic―even as a preteen she’d never been easily stressed. Young as you’d all been, you’d recognised the seriousness of it immediately and the dread had settled heavy in the pit of your stomach. So torn up with guilt you’d searched alone well into the night. It was scary how quickly you’d found yourself at the mercy of wolves. Like a cruel joke, it was Ajax and Tonia’s father who’d found you searching for his son. There was a dark part of you that wondered if your rescue had delayed Ajax’s; if you’d never been out there, would it be Ajax, not Childe that had returned from the forest? Almost a decade later, the guilt was still tangible. Even with him standing mere feet away, you still felt you’d lost him; like you’d open your eyes and he’d be gone again, like you’d wake up to Tonia’s tear-stained face at your door again.

You blinked away your own emotion defiantly, forcing your attention back to Childe. The visible side of his face glowed in the firelight. He had retained his youthful good-looks and, despite your familiarity, the sight of him― all sharp jawlines and boyish laughter― still set your heart aflame. While there were parts of him you’d seen―dark parts he hid from his family―that were completely foreign, there were still glimpses of someone you recognised. His hand still fit perfectly in yours and when he’d kissed you; home on leave on that cold winter night in your teens, giddy with liquid courage from stolen fire-water; his lips fit perfectly with yours too.

“What’re you thinking about?” Childe had yet to glance away from the fire, but he had always seemed to have had a sixth sense, as if he was able to hear you lost in thought.

You flushed, heat rising to your cheeks with the irrational thought that he somehow knew what you’d been reminiscing upon. “I…” Any lie died in your throat as your eyes landed on his bare back. Something dark and wet glinted against the light, smeared across the expanse of his pale skin. Old wounds, definitely not from the day's sparring, had reopened to ooze blood so dark it was almost black. “How long have you been bleeding?”

Childe shrugged, nonchalantly for someone sporting a wound that would have brought most men to their knees. But he wasn’t most men, the unsettling inky blood a signal of both his mortality and his fading humanity.

You were grateful for the sudden distraction, pulling him gently onto the couch to tend to him. You’d be lying if you tried to deny the way the mere touch sent shivers up your spine, but you did your best to shove the feeling away. Even facing his back, the intensity was stifling. Sure, you had seen him shirtless before, you had patched him up once or twice; but it felt different this time. It felt intimate.

To Childe’s credit, he didn’t flinch as you stitched him back together, but his breaths, slightly haggard, echoed loudly in your head, grating against your resolve. To keep from losing yourself completely, you focused all attention into cleaning and suturing his wounds. The process was made difficult by the inhuman viscosity of his blood but he never once complained at the prolonged prodding at the tender flesh, even when you had to bite back horror upon discovering his blood was cool to touch.

You almost breathed an audible sigh of relief once you finished, finally able to reach back into your bag for bandages and distract yourself. You could feel Childe shift on the couch beside you, presumably in an attempt to examine your handiwork and you felt heat rise to your cheeks again. This was only intensified when you turned, bandage in hand, to find him facing you. You sucked in a surprised breath, trying in vain to muffle your nerves from him. That same smirk from earlier returned to his features as he watched you realise you needed to shuffle closer to him in order to reach around his torso to bandage him. In one swift movement he reached down, grasping your legs and pulling you towards him, placing your legs either side of his waist and leaving you seated between his thighs. You were faintly aware of the way your free hand had come up to steady yourself and now lay gently on his shoulder, however you were much more focused on how painfully close he was. You forced yourself not to meet his gaze, which you could feel heavy upon you, knowing you’d never be able to escape whatever enchantment his eyes held. His chest still radiated warmth from the firelight despite the fact his hands had felt cold, even through the thick fabric of your uniform.

“You’re always so far.” He grunted, the revelation giving way to a tingling warmth throughout your body. And he was right. Despite working in a fatui camp, where he spent all of his time away from home, you had never felt further from him.

Even as you began to wind the white cloth around his torso, you could still feel Childe watching you like a hawk; attuned to your every small movement, every micro-expression. You had become hyper aware of each time your fingers brushed the skin of his chest, Childe's breath ragged in your ear. A sharp wave of dread hit you as your hands found the end of the cloth, bringing an end to your distraction. You secured the bandage and went about making a show of ensuring it wasn't too tight in an attempt to buy more time, avoiding meeting his eyes. You smoothed the cloth against his chest to prevent stray threads that might catch, fingers dragging along exposed skin as you did so. Childe groaned, catching your hand as you attempted to pull away in surprise. He chuckled at your shock and you felt the low sound reverberate in his chest against your fingertips. His hand found your chin, forcing you to finally meet his stare. The impact of it hit you square in the chest, pushing any remaining air from your lungs.

“You’re shaking.” he cooed gleefully, watching as you drew in a trembling breath. Calloused fingers underneath still beneath your chin, he drew himself up, bearing down upon you with his face mere inches from your own. "I bet you even taste like fear."

His hand moved from your chin to cup the back of your head, pulling you into his kiss. The faint noise of your surprise muffled by his lips, chapped dry from the cold. He kissed hard, his hand holding you in place. It was an intensity, a hunger, you'd never experienced before― even when he’d kissed you last― but still you found yourself pliant to his touch, letting him press you back against the soft pillow of the couch. He began to suck eagerly upon the sensitive plush of your lower lip before biting down, hard enough to leave the sharp metallic taste of blood. You gasped at the sharp pain which Childe took as an opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, sucking the blood beneath it greedily. He fisted your hair, tilting your head back to slide his tongue ever deeper. The ferocity of it all was dizzying. He never faltered, his hold on you only tightening. He was consuming you, pressing you ever harder against his toned body, ravenous grip digging into your soft skin so tight that it hurt. Lightheaded, you struggled for breath against his hold. He was so much stronger than you ever could have conceived, your struggle only seeming to incite him. Your head screamed. On the verge of passing out you did the only thing you could, biting down hard on his tongue. He broke the kiss with a laugh, allowing you to suck in a shaky gasp of air.

There was a part of him, the small sliver of Ajax that remained, that wanted nothing more but to worship the only woman he had ever loved. To spend all night learning every inch of your body. But Childe didn't worship, he destroyed.

"You were always going to be mine." He murmured, almost to himself, before he latched onto your neck, sucking and biting and leaving a trail of angry purple marks in his wake as you arched beneath him. He was unrelenting, even as he ripped clothes from your shivering body, on a mission to consume every inch of your bare skin.

When his lips found yours again, you melted. You realised faintly that he was right. It was always going to be him, no matter if it was Childe or Ajax. Still years after that fleeting kiss, you'd never stopped thinking about it, about him. In the long winters, you'd dream about him, about more than just a kiss.

Still, even in something as simple and complex as a kiss, you'd found hope. All of Childe seemed to run cold, except his kiss. In this, more than anything else―more than battle―he truly seemed alive again. As much as he had tried to fight it, to convince himself it was some other fleeting emotion, love was still decidedly human. Childe was still human. Even after being stripped of everything; his hopes, his dreams, his childhood; the abyss could not strip him of this.

Childe relished it.

Touch starved, his humanity had shrivelled; cut off from the world; but now it came alive under your gentle caress, aching for more.

He let out a strangled cry, keening his hips forward to grind into you, devouring your soft gasp of surprise.

Even inside by the fire, you should have been cold. Snezhnayan winters were cruel, their icy tendrils always creeping inside; under doorframes, through the window seals, exploiting any weakness they could find. Instead, exposed in only your underwear, your body felt hot. The feeling of Childe's toned body moving against yours, his searing kisses on your delicate skin, had you breathless and dizzy. His fingers dug into the plush of your hips, pulling you hard against him. You were sure you would find the crescent shaped indents of his nails there tomorrow. That wasn't what had you gasping. Pressing harshly against the sensitive skin of your thighs, was the stiff mould of his cock. It was inconceivably hard, so much so that you were sure it must be painful. In fact, his unyielding length coupled with the way his weight was bearing down upon you, made his movements difficult for your tender clit to endure.

You cried out as he pressed himself increasingly harder against your body. The Ajax in your dreams would have fussed over you, but Childe simply scoffed. He did, however, cease his actions to sit back on his haunches.

"You're one to talk." He murmured, regarding your breathless features. "The thought of you has tortured me for far to long for you to make me restrain myself."

Your mouth felt dry as you watch his slender fingers advance on the waistband of his grey uniform. Your brain felt sluggish still. You? Torture him?

"I bet you dreamed of him, didn't you?" Childe drawled, his fingers working at the buttons painfully slowly. "Ajax could barely kiss you." Childe laughed, but it was devoid of humour, sending shivers up your spine. "That coward never would've fucked you," The words stung as intended. Childe smirked, relishing the way you glanced away; eyes burning. A gloved hand found your chin again, forcing you back to look at him. "but I will."

Childe watched you sharply; alert to the smallest of your movements, every twitch of muscle. He reminded of you of the wolves you'd encountered in your search for him; calculating any sign of weakness, patient for the perfect time to strike. Still, it felt like he ways toying with you; you'd fallen right into his careful trap and he had you right where he wanted you. A part of you felt humiliated. Were you such an open book that he'd known your feelings this whole time, even before you'd admitted them to yourself? The other part of you could hardly care about what it had taken to get here. Your own heartbeat thundered in your ears. He was half naked on top of you, promising to finally fulfil your desire for him. You could still feel the ghost of his desire against the soft skin it had been pressed against just seconds earlier and your cheeks grew even hotter.

You barely had time to register your own conflict, unable to restrain your conspicuous stare as you watched Childe swiftly remove his last layers, pushing them unceremoniously down to his mid thigh. For all his slow teasing movements, he was quick to wrap eager fingers around his girth. His erection was tall and pale, much like the rest of him, and through his desperate movements you could see blue-green veins snaking the surface. He had already been leaking pearlescent beads of pre-cum, made all the more visible against the deep pink of his swollen head, but Childe's efforts saw it begin to dribble down his length, smearing against his hand. The sight of it only heightened the white hot flame deep in your abdomen, your patience fraying further with every practiced flick of his wrist.

"Childe.." you groaned, reaching for him impatiently. It was a needy gesture, one that stemmed from pure lust for him, but it was so unexpected and intimate that it shocked him still. You wanted him, not just for mindless sex, but at the very least to be held by him again. In his stunned silence, he allowed himself to be pulled into your embrace; his shock quickly forgotten as you rutted up against his aching erection.

He was more desperate for you than he would ever admit to. As much as he despised your naïve crush on Ajax, his love for you was one of the few things he had retained from his former self. It was rare he didn't dream of you; though he suspected that had much to do with the comfort of his hand that helped lull him to sleep each night. Each place he visited, he would imagine you there without fail and inevitably the ways in which he would finally ravage you. His lust had only darkened, becoming all the more urgent, with your arrival at his command. The proximity had been torture. Just the thought of how close you were, that you worked alone and out of sight mere meters away. For once, that tainted part of him had been the one frantically battling against his instincts, trying to hastily convince him that what he felt couldn't be right.

Now though, with you eager underneath him, all protests had dissipated. The only thing in his mind now was you, as if you were all that mattered. As if all that had ever existed was the two of you, in this moment for eternity.

"Childe..." you were groaning impatiently against his ear, the friction no longer enough.

"Tell me you don't use that stupid name." He failed to prevent the chuckle that came with the sound of the alias in your mouth. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck in an attempt to hide his amusement, hoping to distract you by sliding his large open palm down the bare skin of your side.

He could feel the skin of your neck warm against his cheek with embarrassment. "Well I didn't think you wanted to be called Ajax." you fumbled with your words, too focused on the progress of his hand; his name but a choked gasp as you felt his thumb hook around the band of your underwear. Usually he would have bristled at the sound of that name but hearing the way it fell from your lips; breathy and laced with the urgent agony of your own desire-

"again." He demanded, but it had none of the authority he usually commanded, instead coming out pleading. "say my name again."

Whether you processed his words through your own haze of lust, or he elicited the shaking Ajax that passed your lips naturally with the movement of your hips, it had him undone. His hand flexed at your side, the already tight grip he had on your underwear snapped the band easily. He wasted no time, fingers moving between your bodies, pressing right where you wanted him most. You whined, desperate for their movement, but Childe only groaned against your shoulder and continued to explore your folds at a painfully slow pace. You were so wet, and for him nonetheless. Of all the nights he had spent conjuring different variations of this moment, never had he imagined you could be so wet. He was faintly aware his own hot breaths coming hard and heavy against your exposed collarbone. Long, calloused fingers slid effortlessly inside you, drawing another cry of his name. Mesmerised by the sensation of your walls eagerly obliging his intrusion, he added another. The thought of that same feeling wrapped around his swollen cock was almost too much too bear and he felt himself throb, smearing pre-cum against the skin of your trembling thigh.

Much to your dismay, he removed his hands, leaving you with an aching emptiness. Unconsciously, your legs tried to clamp closed but only succeeded in squeezing at Childe's sides. He pressed himself up onto his knees, your legs still round his waist. His hands were hot on the skin of your hips and wet with your slick arousal as he moved to settle himself between your legs. He pulled his torso from yours, and you whined at the loss; his heavy body an intimate comfort as much as a grounding presence in your spiralling lust. You arched with a gasp as he edged forward, dragging his tip against the slick satin of your folds as shaking hands attempted to position himself. He swore lowly as his cock caught your entrance. He wasted no time in easing himself inside, hypnotised at the sight of his length disappearing inside of you. Your walls stretched eagerly around him, drawing him further and further in. He had never imagined you taking so much of him, a choked noise escaping his throat at the sensation of bottoming out.

"Ajax"

Despite his fears, he was now sure he was entirely not human. Any human would have came at the sensation of your delicious embrace around his stiff cock. His feeble pride and the allure of sex that could even exceed his current bliss, was all that kept him from falling apart inside you. The sight of your features, warped by pleasure, threatened this careful balance. He couldn't help himself, bracing himself on one arm and looming over you just to get a better view. He thrust tentatively, watching you face as it drew a moan from you.

His teasing only tested your sanity, already stretched thin with lust and your prolonged longing. He was incomparable to your fingers, the sheer pleasure of reality so inconceivable that you could have never imagined it. The feeling of Childe inside you; stretching you so pleasurably, filling you so entirely; was pure, mind-numbing ecstasy. Watching him, so stoic and unreadable, become undone above you from the sensation of you alone, to hear him plead you to call his name--his real name-- had you so much closer than you should have been. You had ached for him for so long, the feeling of his thrusts growing all the more frenzied was driving you alarming close to the edge. The harsh snap of his hips against yours as he chased his own pleasure, the sound of his choked gasps above you, the feeling of his greedy fingers digging into your hips, all comforted you knowing he was just as close as you were.

"Kiss me." Glassy, dark blue eyes found yours, your fingers reaching up to tangle in his mess of red hair. You pulled gently at the roots, eliciting another groan, as you dragged him down to meet your lips. His kiss was frantic, teeth clashing clumsily with the feverish movement of his mouth on yours, as his thrusts grew wild and sloppy. You felt him swell slightly with a cry, before he came hard. The sensation of his throbbing erection he continued to pour himself deeper inside of you, was all you needed. Your own orgasm was brutal, throwing your head back into the couch. Childe's groans as you tightened and thrust yourself on his dribbling cock, sounded muffled and far away as you worked through your own mind-shattering release.

He knew now, more than ever, that he could never deny himself again. Whether he was Tartaglia, or Ajax, or Childe; he would always be yours.

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