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You are a simple person.
Sometimes it’s fun to imagine you aren’t, to pretend you are some complex and unpredictable being who appears to be unreadable. That’s just a daydream, though. In truth, you’re the opposite of all those things.
So, understandably, when Childe had revealed his true intentions and fought you for the Gnosis, you were pissed at him. Somehow Childe could hardly grasp why.
You had raised your voices at each other, though it probably wouldn’t have escalated if you hadn’t been so furious. Childe wasn’t angry, but you could tell some of your harsh words and accusatory finger-pointing had gotten him a little ticked off. The worst part is, underneath it all, you had felt a bubbling hurt. Hurt from being betrayed, hurt from feeling like an idiot, hurt for how badly you wanted the Gnosis to save your sibling. You did everything you could to hide it, but, again–
You are a simple person.
You’d practically left Childe in the dust after that last meeting with Zhongli and Signora. What a smack in the face that was, for it all to have been a trick. You haven’t seen him since. You refuse to step into Liyue, lest you run into him.
In fact, the last month and a half, you’ve spent your time up in Dragonspine. It’s unbearable, but you’ve worked your ass off getting materials and helping Albedo with anything and everything. He pays you decently, on top of allowing you to sleep at his camp. It’s a good deal, and Albedo is not difficult company to keep.
On another note, Albedo is the sole reason you’re walking down Liyue Harbor.
He needed you to make a supply run, and not the kind you’d usually do up on the mountain. A real supply run in the city. And let me tell you, the list is long.
You must say, though, the bustling of the city breathes some life back into you. You hadn’t realized how quiet it was in Dragonspine, seeing as you haven’t left there since you started working with Albedo. But here, there’s warmth and laughter, sounds of chatter, there’s lush trees. There’s kids running around, being too rough with each other.
So maybe it's not too bad to be back in Liyue. You don’t plan to stay for long, though.
You power through Albedo’s list the best you can, but that isn’t saying much. It’s a lot of fucking stuff, some of which you’ve never heard of. Then you ask around about certain items, get a bunch of referrals, run around like a headless chicken trying to find everything. It’s draining your pockets too, to note. Albedo gave you a bit to help with the expense of everything, but you were already aware he had been short on Mora before you came. You don’t know why, possibly a stump in his research or cultivation, but you wouldn’t want to pry on such a personal matter.
By the time you’ve actually gotten everything packed into your enormous hikers backpack, it’s almost dead night. The lanterns glow along the streets like fireflies, reflecting off the ponds and the faces of strolling people. It’d be foolish to set out for Dragonspine, of all places, at night.
So, you buy some food. It’s nothing special, just some tiger fish, and you sit at a dock while you scoff it down. Your legs dangle over the edge as you watch a boat steadily tread the water towards a dock on the other side. The sun is almost completely down, streaks of orange hardly visible now. With tired limbs, you dig out your bag of Mora and count what you have left.
Only to find out there isn’t nearly enough for a tavern.
Seriously , you astonish. If you just hadn’t bought that fish you could have maybe swung it far enough just to get the cheapest bed. You can only sit there on the wood, blinking down at the shining coins for many moments, feeling blank. You then pause, close your eyes and gather yourself, before getting up and trudging on your way.
Something will have to be sold. You’ll part with your own belongings, since you don’t quite favor the idea of returning to Albedo empty-handed. You don’t think he would mind, but you also don’t want to make this trip again so soon. It was rough.
You return to the main streets once again, eyes searching for desperate merchants who might just pay for your junk. If it were Mondstat, it would be easier. But Liyue’s standards are perceptibly higher.
You’re minding your own business, having just finished pleading with a man to give you more than what he was offering for some of your things, when your name is called out to you. Your blood immediately runs cold, because you know exactly whose voice it is.
When you turn around, sure enough, it’s him. He looks absolutely no different than before. He still has that faux, charming smile and messy hair, posture relaxed and boyish. He walks up without hesitations, boots clicking against the stone roads. He almost seems delighted to witness your dread.
“I knew it was you. What are you doing here? And where have you been?” Inquisitive as always. Or nosy may be the better word.
Had he expected you to stick around Liyue after all of that? “Childe, hello. I’m just picking up some things. I leave tomorrow.”
You’d rather be short with him. It’d be best to give him no encouragement for his antics, though you’re sure it will do nothing to stop him anyways. Childe pouts a bit. “Tomorrow? How long have you been here?”
You sigh, “I just arrived today. Sorry, but I’m kind of busy right now, so–”
Childe honest-to-god laughs, boyish and with squinty eyes. “Relax, ___. I’m not about to duel you right now. Though, I wouldn’t be opposed to fighting with you again, as friends,” he grins, even finishing it off with a wink.
You shove down the groan that crawls up your throat. Your bag is extremely heavy, and standing still like this is not helping the pain in your back. “We aren’t friends,” you grumble.
“We aren’t?” He’s teasing you, like he always does. It’s mildly infuriating, but it’s also nostalgic. He’d do the same thing, when the two of you were actually friends, before he stabbed you in the back.
“No, Childe,” you say. “We aren’t.”
For the briefest of moments, Childe looks serious. You couldn’t explain what it was if you tried, a tiny fragment becoming out of place was the only indication. He brings it back quickly. “Well, you’re my friend. So, what may I help you with?”
He eyes the bag on your shoulders that is filled to the brim with the items Albedo requested. “Nothing,” you lie, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “It’s fine, go back to whatever you were doing.”
Childe crosses even more distance, and while still not enough to be considered abnormal, it makes you on edge. He’s limber, like always, casual and nonchalant, if not a little theatric. “I’m sure there’s something. Besides, you should know I don’t have any pressing business for the rest of the night. I’m all yours. After all, how could I say goodbye when I’ve only just found out you’re here? And you’re leaving tomorrow ?”
You roll your shoulders to dispel some of the burning in the muscles there, and Childe is on it instantly. “Let me,” he offers, all gentlemen. As if. He can tell you’re frustrated with his flirty personality ever since you had fought him, and you swear he just gets a kick out of pushing your buttons.
Even still, you do nothing to stop him from sliding the bag off your shoulders and slinging it over his own. “You better not steal from me, Tartaglia, or I swear to–”
Again, he bursts into genuine laughter. He looks so nice when he does it that you can’t bring yourself to even be angry with him. “I’m not going to steal from you. I’m sure there’s nothing of use to the Fatui in this little bag here.”
And then he trots along. You open your mouth to ask him where he’s going, but you don’t speak in favor of catching up with him. He’s unhurried with his pace, throwing you a glance over his shoulder. “You never answered my questions earlier, by the way.”
You don’t know what he means at first. “I’ve been up in Dragonspine,” you begrudgingly admit. “I’m working with an alchemist for some extra Mora.”
Childe seems surprised. “Dragonspine? That’s a long trip.” Yeah, no shit. What is with the small talk?
You don't bother responding. This time, Childe is actually silent. For some reason, it makes you feel a little guilty. He is making an effort to be nice, though he might do the same thing for anyone else.
What are you thinking? This man pretended to be your friend, used you to get what he wanted.
“I guess you’re here on a shopping spree. Gosh, feels like forever since I've seen you in Liyue, just like old times.” Right, old times. “If there’s nothing more you need to do, I can help you take this stuff to your lodging.”
About that. You lick your lips, trying to come up with a response. “It’s fine, I can take it myself.”
“Ah don’t be like that,” he sing-songs. You forgot how tall he is. The streets are dying down just a fraction as it gets late, the shops closing and lights going out.
You sigh. “Childe, I said it’s fine. I’ll get it,” you insist, finally stopping in your tracks. He stops as well, turning around to face you.
“___,” he counters, looking genuine. It takes you off guard. “Let me just do something for you. Don’t you think I owe it to you?” The smile he puts on at the end doesn’t quite reach the rest of his face.
Your stomach swirls unpleasantly. You don’t know if it’s guilt, nervousness, or resentment. As much as you want to refuse, you find that your shoulders slump and your lips move before you can think. “I don't have anywhere to sleep. I’m broke.”
“What?” He nearly exclaims. “Well, you should have said something sooner! I own a room and it has your name on it. Come on.”
Gods help me , you think to yourself as you trail behind the redhead.
True to his word, Childe owns a quarter in the upper city of Liyue. There are Fatui guards stationed at the door, which puts you on edge. Of course, it makes total sense, but it still isn’t comforting. Its the reminder of who you’re following into this room.
The room, though, is very nice. It’s decorated extremely well, with warm colors and contrasting dark wood. The curtains are lush, likely very expensive, and the bed is probably the biggest you’ve ever seen. Life of a Harbinger seems to treat the fucker well.
“My humble abode,” he bows to you, mocking the stance of a butler. “When I’m actually in Liyue, of course.”
“It’s nice,” you offer lamely.
“Shucks,” he murmurs, turning away from you to drop your bag onto the round table in the corner of the room. He calls in one of his men and tells them to fetch some tea. You’d tried to refuse, but he picked some for you anyways.
“Why are you just standing there? Jeez, you’re making me anxious,” he huffs at you, situating himself in a leather chair that faces the bed, catty cornered.
Wordlessly, you take a seat on the neatly made bed. You feel awkward. You didn’t foresee that it’d just be the two of you hanging out in a bedroom.
“So,” you begin, reaching for any topic to get him talking. It’s good that he likes to talk so much, because it means you don’t have to. Normally, you wouldn’t encourage him, but you can’t stand the silence in a setting such as this. “What have you been doing?”
Childe tilts his head, as if in thought. “Nothing crazy. Same old work. Political shit that gives me a headache, but ya know. Haven’t had a good fight in a bit.”
You breathe a laugh before you can help it. It’s just so him, so predictable. You’re struggling to remember how much you had hated him before. Though, to be fair, did you really hate him? You’d been hurt, of course, but somehow the grudge you’d been holding is starting to slip from your fingers.
“I didn’t know you were into alchemy,” he comments, mostly teasing.
“I’m not,” you tell him. “Just, the guy I’ve been working with is really smart and talented. I learn a lot from him, and he pays me well for assisting him.”
A strange look crosses his eyes, just a flicker before it’s hidden away. “Hm. Must be a cool guy.”
Your first instinct is to say “He is,” but something about Childe’s energy makes it seem like a bad idea. Luckily, you don’t have to say anything, because the guard from before knocks on the door with the tea. Childe takes it politely, bringing the tray over to the bed. He sits down on the side opposite from you.
“ I never really took you for the tea type,” you say, mildly amused.
Sheepishly, Childe rubs at the back of his neck. “I actually don’t drink tea on my own time, I just thought you’d like some,” he confesses.
Your heart warms at the gesture. Truthfully, you put such acts of thoughtfulness behind him. He could be caring before, but you can’t decipher what was part of the act and what wasn’t. “Well, thanks,” you say dumbly. Childe says nothing as you both sip on warm tea, the feeling of it soothing your throat.
It’s kind of– awkward, for a second. Childe is never the awkward type, but it seems neither of you have anything to say. You avoid looking at him, though you’re not sure why.
“Look I’m–” Childe starts, then pauses, collecting his thoughts. When you do look over, he seems sincere. “I really am sorry for what happened, before. It wasn’t anything personal. I quite liked you, actually. But, duty calls, ya know?”
You sigh. “It wasn’t that I thought it was personal. I know you were just doing your job, but. I was too angry to care,” you tell him honestly. Your resolve has bled out of you with his kind gestures and you think, distantly, if he were to still sabotage you, he could easily do it now. He could have poisoned this tea and you wouldn’t know a thing. You doubt he would, though. There’s no reason as far as you’re aware.
“Was?” He asks you with a grin slipping into the curve of his lips.
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”
A breath of laughter whooshes out of his nose at that. The tray clinks as his almost-empty cup is sat on it. “You’re cute, you know.”
You suddenly find the headboard of the bed very interesting. “Alright don’t push your luck,” you mumble.
“I’m serious,” he insists, but with the smile in his voice, you wish to not believe him. Simply because saying something like that can’t really be that easy. “I always thought you were cute. It’s too bad we met the way we did. If I’d met you under different circumstances I definitely would’ve hit on you.”
Even though your face blazes and your swallows turn tight, you scoff at him. “You flirted with me anyways.”
You muster your strength to look back in his direction, only to see him give a dismissive shake of the head. “Nah. That’s just how I am. I mean really flirt.”
“You’re full of shit, Childe,” you tell him, lighthearted. There’s no windows in this room and it’s getting hard to find things to stare at in order to avoid making eye contact.
Apparently, the redhead finds that amusing, barking out a quick laugh before saying, “You don’t believe me? Ah, you’ve just never seen me in action. I’m a charmer.” Despite being flustered, you finally crack a smile. You have missed his antics.
It’s quiet for a split second, and then Childe breaks it with an unsuspected, “I could show you, if you’d like.”
You can feel him staring holes into your skull, your mouth turned dry. Your body betrays you and forces your head to turn, looking him dead in the eye and trying to read his features. He almost looks curious. You, on the other hand, are like a deer in headlights. “What– What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean, ___.”
You do. You just hoped it would deter him in some way.
You just blink at him, over and over, like an idiot. You don’t know what to say. Your brain has shut down, apparently. “I– uh.”
Whatever look had built up in Childe’s eyes slowly softens out, and he offers you a small smile. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Just an offer.” He sits up straighter and reaches for the tray, as if to get up and leave, and something in you sparks into gear.
“Wait,” you blurt, louder than you had intended. His brows shoot up and his limbs freeze in motion. A nervous smile worms onto your face. “Sorry, I just– don’t go. You can… show me.” Your heart is pounding so hard the pulse is banging in your ears, your mind shooting a billion thoughts at once. Getting that out was embarrassing, to say the least. You almost thought you wouldn’t manage to say it. Childe’s proposal was so sudden and unprovoked, and it’s left you dizzy. You can’t say that is exactly out of character, though. He has a knack for having zero filter between his thoughts and his words, unless it really counts.
You don’t really know what you’re doing. Or why.
No– scratch that. You know why. Because Childe is probably the most attractive man you’ve ever spoken to and he’s sitting here offering things that you would most definitely enjoy and calling you cute. So yeah, you’re not crazy for this. Right?
The corners of his mouth crease, as if suppressing a smile. “Are you sure?” He’s cautious, written in his body language.
“Yeah. I’m sure.” Fuck it.
The way Childe starts moving towards you is reminiscent of someone trying not to alarm a wild animal, as if you’ll change your mind in an instant. You’ve made it up, though. If you’ve agreed to doing something intimate with Childe, there’s no going back. You intend to full-send.
Once he gets close enough, perched on his knees before you, his eyes flicker down to your lips. Your stomach is in knots, heart banging loudly as you just stare at him, without words. “May I?” He asks you so politely, a deception of his true nature. Even as the question leaves him, a little smirk twitches into the curve of his mouth, like he knows you’re going to say yes anyways.
With your nod of consent, he leans forward.
Childe’s lips are surprisingly soft. He pushes into you with something strong, a hand gingerly finding its way to your knee. You could honestly laugh at his behavior now. A hand on the knee is something you do on a second date, and you’re sure Childe isn’t truly this gentle. You can tell in the way he begins losing himself every now and again, his mouth rough and insistent on yours before he reels back.
You coax him forward by leaning back, and instinctively, he chases your lips. Buzzing warmth is starting to vibrate under the surface of your skin, your movements turning more confident as you begin to desire it. Finally, Childe parts from your mouth. He’s staring down at you with a sinful expression, one that is enough to make you come undone entirely. His lips are parted, wet from your own tongue, eyes simultaneously lazy and crazed. He looms over you, as tall as he is, casting a shadow. “What did I tell you?” He’s cocky. Nothing new.
“If you wanna get technical, that was swapping spit, not flirting. But, hey, what do I know,” you remark, trying to sound sarcastic even while you’re slightly out of breath.
Childe chuckles. “That’s true. But you still liked it. I’ve made my good impression.”
You roll your eyes, ignoring that he’s exactly right. You didn’t anticipate him to be such a talented kisser, and with a strange horror, you realize that your suppressed attraction to him is starting to catch up to you. It was easy enough to shove it down when you were running errands together and meeting with Zhongli, but when you’re literally being caged and his tongue is down your throat, it escapes and fills you up.
“I’ve seen better,” you lie. Giving him satisfaction is impossible in your mind. Childe blinks down at you following the statement. “Gonna show me what you can really do?” You taunt him.
The light in Childe’s eyes dims dangerously, his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. A genuine, sinister grin spreads over his face. “I don’t think you can take what I wanna give you.”
You grit your teeth, both insulted and excited by his challenge. Your eyes pierce his with a glare. “Try me. Did you forget you lost our fight, Tartaglia?”
You can’t tell if you’ve said the right thing or the wrong thing, for Childe suddenly looks crazed, two strong hands landing firmly at your hips and yanking you even further down the bed. But then he’s rasping, “You know exactly what to say, doll,” and biting into the skin of your jaw, and you definitely feel like you’ve won that battle.
The air around you has grown increasingly charged, like a palpable restlessness. As if neither of you can complete all of your scattered desires fast enough. Childe is rapid with his attacks on your skin, and the stinging pain of his teeth assures you that there will be plenty to show for it come dawn.
Your shirt is shoved up hastily, and you shudder at the ticklish sensation on your sides. Childe mouths up your stomach wetly, and even though you press your head back into the pillow, you know he hasn’t looked away from your face.
“Been waiting to get my hands on you,” he murmurs against your abdomen. At first, you’re so taken by how hot such a statement is, but when it processes, you tilt your head forward to look at him.
“Waiting? For how long?”
Childe’s bottom lip drags against the soft skin of your stomach as he lifts his face upwards, meeting your eyes. “Since I met you, probably,” he replies candidly.
His honesty with things like that never fails to stun you. You swallow once as you digest his confession, trying to picture him back then and imagine him pining after you. It’s surreal, to be honest. Though, you’re sure he’d say the same about you if you told him that you were in the same boat.
You distract yourself from your thoughts by grabbing a handful of his hair and dragging him upwards. You meet him in a filthy kiss, hot and heavy. Kissing him tastes rich, a strong flavor that you can’t pin down. His skin is so warm and his touches are purposeful, and your body bends to his terrifyingly easily.
“Off,” he demands shortly, with all the grace of a dog. You take the hint, though, pulling your top over your head and tossing it out of sight. He helps you with your pants, the gentlemen that he is, peeling them off of you and staring down at the new exposure. You’re left purely in your undergarments now.
For a moment, you almost feel anxious. Do you look okay? Are you his type? Is your body alright? Those thoughts pass, though, chased away by the fact that there is no dignity in fucking a Fatui Harbinger in the first place.
“Gods,” he mumbles, so quietly you nearly miss it. He’s just sitting up on his knees, between your legs, gazing down at your half-naked body. Your face heats against your will.
Before he can touch, you hold out a hand and muster your composure. “Uh-uh. Your turn, Fatui.”
Childe doesn’t even falter, a sly grin appearing on those soft lips of his, like he revels in the moments where you find your confidence. It’s intoxicating, and inadvertently places you even further in the hole of submission. If you take charge, you’re still ultimately pleasing him.
Your stream of thought is slashed in half as you watch Childe easily chuck his shirt off.
Bless the Seven.
He does not miss his gym day, does he? What’s even more enticing about it is that he’s still slender, still slightly lanky even with the hard lines and muscles that cover his torso. Embarrassingly, your mouth waters.
“It’s rude to stare, you know,” he quips, entirely too pleased with himself.
You just fix him with a flat look, expressionless and unimpressed. To your surprise, he actually falters, unsure of how to go on. He coughs like he’s clearing his throat, which sounds fake, and scratches his shoulder.
How cute.
“Tough crowd,” he breathes, bending over your body again. You giggle, an embarrassing, girlish giggle. Watching Childe stumble is so rare and it’s a joy each time to witness it. He’s so smooth, and his arrogance is somehow charming even when it makes an appearance.
You don’t say anything. You just tug him down, pulling him in for a shockingly tender kiss. Your palms skirt down his bare chest, falling over the hard lines and warm skin. Your pointer finger brushes his nipple by chance, and he gasps into your mouth.
Fuck.
That’s something to explore later.
You tear from Childe’s lips with faux frustration. “What’s the hold up here? You should be fucking me by now.”
Childe huffs a laugh as if he finds that genuinely amusing. You’re not kidding. “Goodness, you’re eager, hm?” Your face heats, the statement backfiring on you. “You want it that bad? Can’t even wait for me to prep you?”
As he speaks, his fingers sneak their way into your panties, finding your sopping folds under the fabric. It makes you jolt a little, muscles tensing as he starts to work your clit. “Though, I bet you’d want it rough. Raw. You’re wet enough for it.”
Before you can help it, a small, airy whimper tumbles from your mouth. As soon as he hears it, he’s grinning. He’s so fucking smug you just wanna punch him in the face, but it’s hard to muster your dignity when he’s making you feel this good. His fingers are rubbing perfect circles around your sensitive clit, and his words are doubling the damage.
He slips a finger in so easily it makes you gasp in surprise, not from anything in particular, just how he finessed it. Childe wastes absolutely no time in working you open, and holy fucking mother of The Seven where did he learn to do this.
By the time he gets three fingers deep, you’re flushed. “Childe, c’mon. I can take you now.”
“Greedy,” he tuts instantly, but you can tell it pleases him. “But I can’t say I’m much better. Feeling you around my fingers is too much for one man to take.”
You roll your eyes, but he doesn’t see it. He’s too busy unbuttoning his pants, freeing his cock and yeah, okay. He’s got a decent size. A bit above average, at least. He’s groomed neatly, even, his pale cock flushed dark at the tip.
You know you’re shamelessly drooling over it, and you fully expect him to make some stupid comment, but he doesn’t. Instead, he glances down at you, your covered breasts, with a question shining in his eyes. “Would you mind showing yourself to me, sweet thing?”
How in the fuck do you say no to that?
So you reach back, unclasp your bra easily, let it slide down your arms and off your chest. And Childe looks as if you’ve just given him a million dollars.
He breathes something under his breath that you can’t decipher, following it with a raspy, “You are gorgeous.”
The statement is so earnest that you blush, hard, a nervous smile on your face. Childe leans over, close enough to feel his body heat. His hands brace on either side of your waist, cherry lips dropping to mouth along your collarbone. They drift, and drift, down the center of your chest, wet and soft. You gasp when he takes a nipple into his mouth, stomach tensing. He sucks for only a short moment before releasing it with a knowing grin.
You lick your lips at the feeling of his erection prodding your folds. You clench around nothing, desperate for him to finally enter you. “Be good and still for me, yeah?”
You put on a glare, attempting to appear unimpressed. “How many times do I have to tell you? I can take it. You worried about throwing your back out or something? Gonna cum too soon?”
You like egging him on. Childe takes the bait for damn near anything, never one to back down from any sort of challenge.
Sure enough, that sharp grin pierces his features and his cock begins pushing into your awaiting walls. “Fine then, little girlie. But don’t complain if I break you.”
There is no buildup after the split second he’s buried to the hilt. You only enjoy the encompassing, satisfying stretch for a few moments before he’s slamming into you.
You swear vaguely, the feel of his hard cock pumping you accumulating a dangerous euphoria. “Yes, yes, just like that–”
“Yeah?” He’s fucking into you so hard you can hear the smack of skin where his pelvis meets yours. He’s only slightly out of breath. “Archons, you feel fucking amazing. This cunt was made for me,” he decides, voice getting rough.
“Childe, please–” you cut yourself off with an airy moan. Your back is sliding up the smallest bit with every thrust, grazing the sheet and bouncing your exposed tits. He feels just as good as you expected. He’s so fucking hard , and he’s not shy about his pace.
“Please what? Hm? Look at you, moaning like a slut. You think the guards can hear?” Oh my god, you didn’t even think about that. You feel a dizzying mix of arousal and shame, your walls squeezing down on Childe’s cock. “ Damn . You like that. Maybe you are a slut.”
As if on autopilot, your head gives a tiny jerk up and down. Childe groans, as if tortured, hands finding your hips and firmly gripping your flesh. “Yeah, yeah . So good for me. God , been wanting to fuck you silly for so long.”
Childe is the picture of sex. His hair is messy and wry, falling all into his face. His muscular torso is displayed in an irresistible way, his biceps thick as they yank your hips down to meet his heavy thrusts. You can see his lips, parted to let out pants of exertion.
“T-Tell me,” You start, using all of your brainpower to muster the articulation you have left. It doesn’t sound like a demand, the way you had hoped. It sounds like a desperate plea. “What did you thi-think about?”
At that, Childe smirks. It’s lopsided and so, so attractive. “Dirty girl,” he murmurs. He leans forward more, shifting his hands up to your sides as he switches the pace. It’s insanely deep, slow. It pushes the air out of your lungs, the tip of his cock brushing that patch with every calculated roll. “I thought about throwing you down on the floor during our fight,” he so politely informs you, towering over you. He’s so close, you can feel the subtle ghosting breaths that come with his words. “Thought about fucking you in that form. Even thought about railing you right in front of Zhongli, just cause I could. Maybe then the fucker would know what’s mine.”
An absurd whine scrambles our of your throat, thighs tensing. Childe moans, too, feeling you tighten up around him. He says something in his native language, head tipped and harsh syllables.
Despite the view you’re getting, you are unable to stop yourself from screwing your eyes shut as Childe picks his pace up once more, perhaps even faster than before. At this point, you can’t even tell. You’re gone, squirming lewdly under him and finding your clit. Nothing exists but the feeling of him fucking into you and his filthy words.
“Fuck, Childe– I–”
“Call me Ajax,” he grits out suddenly. Ajax?
Nonetheless, you oblige. You’d do a kickflip off the tallest cliff if he asked you to right now. You’re utterly at his mercy, shackled by the blissful and intense euphoria buzzing through your veins. “Ajax, Ajax , need you so bad, fuck–”
The room is then filled with the slapping of Childe’s relentless hips, your wanton moans, his swearing and broken yeah, yeah, yeah’ s. He feels so hot above you, like he endlessly radiates this suffocating heat. “Look at you,” he rasps, doing just that. His words are broken up only by the pounding of his erection when he sheaths it deep inside. “You’re all stupid off my cock. You wanted this too, didn’t you? Wanted it just as much as I did.”
It isn’t really a question, more like him telling you he knows it’s true. You can’t tell if it’s just his ego speaking, but nevertheless, he’s right.
“Yes, yeah , I did. I do ,” you manage, shameless. So much for not giving him the satisfaction. But, at this point, you can’t bring yourself to give a fuck. You’d indulge him with your last breath right now, swept by the chemicals releasing in your brain.
You can feel his cock twitch inside you, and the sensation propels you to the edge. “What a good girl,” he borderline growls, the praise feeling more like a threat. “You wanna come for me, doll? Give me it,” he demands.
It’s the straw that broke the camels back. Just like that, you’re cumming, back arching and thighs shaking violently. Your head tips backwards, your neck straining with the effort as your mouth drops into a soundless cry. Goosebumps wash over your skin in waves with the stunning pleasure, Childe’s cock still fucking into you with abandon all the while.
You babble quiet, breathy curses and moans, attempting to regain your senses. You blink rapidly, trying to clear your blurry vision. When you do, you are met with the sight of Childe in all his glory. He’s fucking you purely for his own pleasure now, thrusts uneven. His muscles tense over and over again as he slams into your sensitive pussy.
“ So fucking good for me,” he praises, panting.
You moan weakly, shaking. Though you’re overstimulated and sensitive, the feeling of his cock knocking into your walls still feels insanely good. You reach your hands up, feeling over his chest and stomach. You swear he fights back a shudder.
“Ajax,” you call to him, remembering his request. “Want you to cum, please .”
His mouth falls open even wider as he follows your plea instantly, head throwing back. His cock slows inside of you, then shoves all the way to the base. He’s gone completely still. A broken, stuttering moan leaves his throat when he finally begins to slump, and you wish more than anything that you could bottle up the sound. It’d bring you to orgasm any day.
He says something in his native language again, and you think it must be curses. “My god. You are a death trap, darling.”
You smile in a drunken way, letting out a lazy giggle at the flattery. When Childe finally catches his breath, he gingerly pulls out of your used cunt, catching your wince out of the corner of his eye. The slimy fuck has the courage to smirk. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You huff childishly. “Whatever, Childe. You don’t know my limits. You could have gone harder and I would have taken it just fine.”
His gaze flicks down to your mouth. “Don’t say stuff like that. Might wanna go again.”
“You’re a menace,” you mutter.
Childe just grins, knowing you’re right. No shame. He leaves the bed to retrieve the scattered clothing, handing you a pair of his boxers since your panties got ruined. You dress in silence, though when you notice Childe putting his jacket on you pause. “Are you leaving?”
He looks up at the sound of your voice, seeming surprised. “Well… yeah. I mean, I didn’t think you’d want me to stay.”
You roll your eyes at his immaturity. “So ask, dumbass. You can stay. I’m not kicking you out of your own place after you just gave me a good fuck.”
“So it was good,” he boasts instantly, a proud grin on his face.
“Yeah, I thought the obscene moaning and intense orgasm would be a giveaway,” you deadpan.
He chuckles, shedding his jacket and pants. You might as well spend the night with him. If he wanted to stab you in the back, you think he would have done so by now. Besides, it’s kind of… nice. You’d never say that out loud, though.
When he crawls into bed, you shiver at the shifting blanket. “I might not be here when you wake up,’ you inform him casually.
You can feel him still, silent for a few beats. “Why not?”
You furrow your brows at him through the darkness. “Because, I have to start the trip back to Dragonspine, Childe.”
A late, “Oh,” is the only response you get for a moment. Then he shifts next to you. “So, you’re not coming back to Liyue?”
You blank. You’re not sure what the answer to that question is. You know you’re not going to work with Albedo for forever, but still. Even when you leave Dragonspine, chances are, you’ll travel to other places instead. You can’t sit in one spot, and you know Childe can’t either. Maybe it’s the fantasy of being regular locals, the fantasy of being able to meet on the street and go out on a date.
“I don’t know. Maybe I will,” you reply, sounding unsure even to your own ears.
Childe sighs quietly. “Well. If you ever visit, you know where to find me. Can’t pass up seeing your pretty face, girlie.”
You scoff, but you’re blushing. “Go to sleep, Tartaglia.”