archived

You stare down at where your bodies would soon connect, your hand gently leading his member to align with your entrance. Oikawa's bangs tickled your forehead as he watched, his breaths gradually getting shorter out of what you could only assume was anticipation. “Are you ready?” you ask, looking up at the brunette through your lashes. 

He nods slightly, breathing out an airy ‘yes’. You felt your heart skip in your chest, the way he answered catching you off guard. It felt surreal guiding the reputed womanizer through his first time and seeing him like this. Meek, breathless, desperate. How lucky you were to have this opportunity.

“Okay,” you whisper, taking a deep breath before leading his cock into your welcoming walls, using your legs to gradually pull him in. Oikawa inhales sharply from the new sensation, quietly muttering to himself as he sinks inch by inch into you. 

You lay still when Oikawa bottoms out, allowing him a moment to adjust to each other’s bodies. “How does it feel?” you ask, your hands coming up to cup his face. His cheeks were warm in the palm of your hands, ears hot against the pads of your fingers. He’s breathy when he responds, brown eyes misty as he looks at you. “Good...Really good,” he mutters, his collarbone peaking through with each breath he took. “Can I?” he paused, voice breathy and barely above a whisper, afraid to appear too eager. He looks like he’s close to tears, eyes glassy against his flushed skin. You peered back into those warm eyes, rubbing your thumbs across his cheeks as you nodded.

Oikawa swallows and fixes his hands to your hips. You felt him move backward, his cock dragging against your walls. He starts slowly, his hips rocking in a steady back-and-forth motion. Soft groans and hushed curses sounded from the boy as he relaxed, less rigid and more confident. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, lip caught between your teeth as you let Oikawa use your cunt to find a comfortable pace he could build on. Gradually, his movements quickened. His thrusts became less tentative and more precise, hitting faster and deeper every time his hips connected with yours. You gasped quietly, your eyes snapping open upon Oikawa’s (frankly unexpected) new pace. 

Your breaths start to quicken as pleasure slowly builds in your core. “Yeah, keep going,” you moan. Oikawa huffs out some sort of acknowledgment as he continues to drill into your tight walls. You vocalized your pleasure loudly, praising the brunette for how well he was doing. And in such a short amount of time for someone who claimed they were inexperienced. 

For a moment, you wondered if the pro volleyball player was lying about his virginity. Maybe he was using it as a type of ploy to garner sympathy from his fans.

But the thought went as soon as it came. Your attention was brought back with a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine, your hips bucking in response. You gasped before it was quickly replaced with a loud moan, your hands gripping the pillows behind you. Oikawa groans above you, his fingers digging into the fat of your hip. 

Any timidity that he previously had was now long gone. He thrust into you with a new found confidence. Or maybe it was just pure lust and pleasure that drove him. You went into this fully expecting not to orgasm, but the virgin boy proved not to be underestimated. 

You couldn’t help but rain praises down on the brunette, his performance truly commendable.. ‘Yes ! Just like that’ and ‘You’re doing so good’ falling freely from your lips as the coil in your abdomen steadily wound up. Oikawa threw his head back with a loud moan before looking back at you with hazy chocolate eyes. “Gonna cum…Fuck, I’m cumming,” he manages to choke out, squeezing his eyes shut as he nears his end. You moan in time with his frantic thrusts, yeses ringing throughout the room like a mantra. 

His cock twitched with such intensity you swore you could feel every vein on his cock, even through the latex barrier he wore. You reach climax first, your cunt fluttering around Oikawa. He pumped into your walls once, twice, three times before his hips suddenly stilled. Oikawa gasped loudly, an equally loud and drawn out moan filling in any possible silence within the room. You felt his load steadily fill the condom, the faintest traces of warmth within your walls. Every twitch of his cock added to the feeling of (technical) fullness, and you were almost certain that he’d spill out of it if he kept cumming like this. 

Oikawa collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy and his heart pounding against your shoulder. You smiled a bit, bringing a hand up to ruffle his hair. He chuckled breathlessly, propping himself up to look at you. 

“So,” he smiled, a smirk tugging on his features, “Did I earn the title of womanizer?” Oikawa’s expression was light and playful, not taking himself too seriously and well aware of his reputation as a “lady-killer”. You giggled, shaking your head lightly.

“Almost. Still gotta teach you a few things before then.”

geto

"here we go." he says as water starts falling on both of you. he takes the washcloth in his hands and he rubs it on your arms. he dreamed so long about washing you like this, being this intimate.

he massages your shoulder before he drags the washcloth down your arms. he throws his head back, letting droplets of water fall on his face. what he feels his wrong, the thoughts he has right now only belong when he's tangled in a bed with you. his hands stop, he knows that now he has to wash your back, the same back that arched few minutes before.

"maybe you can wash me." he offers and you happily take it. you run the washcloth across his chest while geto looks at you with a dark gaze. he wants to curse the god because this way it's even worse. now he can see your body clearly, every curve of your body plus your smiling face.

"i think we can stop it here, i am not that sweaty." he tries to climb out of the shower but you stop him.

"oh baby, you have no idea what you do to me."

nanami

he tells himself he's not like other guys, being naked with you doesn't make him think of you in a different light. but your soft skin, now wet, is glistening just so perfectly.

"can i wash your body?" you ask him while you wash your arms with the wash cloth. your front is right in front of his eyes and he just wishes that you would just turn around.

"i don't think that's a good idea." he says, trying to avert his eyes off of your body. he almost jumps when your soft hand touching his bicep.

"im sorry, i know you didn't want to do this." you apologize, looking sad and it breaks his heart. he puts the wet wash cloth in your hands, pressing it on his chest so that you can wash him. you smile at the gesture, running your hands across his body.

"not there." he squeaks when your hands meet his lower stomach, grabbing them and throwing them over his shoulder.

“what’re you doing jumping on the bed I made the servants make especially for us so it suits your peculiar tastes?” he grumbles.

you shrug with a smile, “our dear son wanted some time to unwind and who am I to say no to him?”

“you’re his mother. you should have more resistance to his ‘cuteness’ than this; he will grow up to be a king,” he concludes and your son ignores him, still jumping on the bed.

you giggle, “and that’s why I am the fun parent, my dear husband,” you sigh softly and pull him down to press a kiss on his cheek, “I missed you.”

“do it properly,” he says and pulls you up to him and presses a scandalous kiss on your lips. you smack his shoulder lightly after he lets go and he merely chuckles.

“stop doing that in front of our son!”

sukuna smirks and you simply roll your eyes.

“mommy, look I am flying!”

“yes I know, sweetie; that’s awesome!”

“mommy, look I am a superhero!”

“I know, love; you’re the best superhero,” coo at your son who is still jumping on the bed.

your husband just looks at him and wonders how the hell does he get the energy.

personally, you have no idea, but something tells you it’s the genetics from your dear husband who is also the king of curses.

sukuna huffs and pulls you by the waist to him, “you keep spoiling him, but you neglect me?”

“I spoil you both and you know it.”

“do you now?” he challenges and you look at him blankly.

“sukuna, i need to go to work,” you mumble.

“no.”

“no?”

he pulls you closer and nods, “you will stay here til I have had enough of you.”

“BUT YOU NEVER HAVE ENOUGH AND I CAN’T STAY CUDDLING WITH YOU! WHAT ABOUT MY JOB?!”

“you’re married to the king of curses; that’s the last thing you should be worried about,” he deadpans.

“that has nothing to do with spoiling me; you’re just weak-willed,” he grins and you think that, maybe, kicking him in the nuts won’t be so bad.

your son can live without sibling; it will be okay.

you quip, “then how about the time I got you breakfast in bed?”

“the chef was the one cooked it; you only delivered it to my room.”

“why don’t you believe that I cooked it?”

“cause your cooking is awful; it’s probably the only thing close to a poison that could actually kill me.”

you and your son gasp, but your son is the one to retort to his father, “mommy cooked it all by herself! you ungrateful old man!”

you’re about to scold your son to not insult his father but to your surprise, your husband is one step ahead of you.

however, you would’ve preferred if he didn’t even act cause the moron pushed your son off the bed.

your son screams before falling off and hitting the ground in a way that was far from harmless. slowly, his cries grow and he starts wailing and sobbing.

sukuna smirks, “no more monkeys jumping on the bed.”

“SUKUNA! HE IS CRYING!”

“he is my son; he can handle it.”

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of course he did. because for all of your banter, he knows you could never say no to him. 

“okay, fine, i’ll go out with you. but only because you’re cute when you beg.” you decide, rolling your eyes when he does a quick fist pump. 

“i am cute, thank you. and i know i said to think of it as dinner between friends, but if at any point you feel the overwhelming urge to kiss me, you have my complete consent.” 

“go to work, reo,” you laugh, gently pushing his shoulder. 

“i’ll text you the details!”

_____

reo isn’t sure why he’s so nervous. he’s always been great at first dates– better than average, some might say. but something’s different this time around. maybe it’s the restaurant’s lighting, or maybe it’s the fact that it’s his first date with you. 

he’d come a little early and ordered a bottle of wine, knee bouncing under the table as he scrolled through his phone in an attempt to chase his nerves away. 

thankfully it’s not long before he spots the hostess leading you to the table (a few more minutes and he certainly would have spiraled). he’s quick to stand, walking around the table to greet you.

“hi,” he says, handing you a bouquet of roses before pulling your seat out for you. 

“these are beautiful, thank you,” you say, reo beaming as you gingerly hug the blooms to your chest.

once you’re both seated, he sneaks a glance at you before opening his menu. you look a little nervous, restlessly shifting in your chair and shifting your gaze around the room. 

“i’m sorry,” you blurt, curling in on yourself as if you’re embarrassed. “this place is– i probably should have googled it first. i’m so underdressed, i feel like everyone’s looking at me...” 

“of course they’re all looking at you. you’re the prettiest person in the room.”

(and, oh man, the way you look at him when he says that…it was like being bathed in soft sunshine. he could sit there and bask in it all day.)

but you lift your menu to hide your bashful expression and reo reaches across the table to pour you a bottle of wine, just to give himself something to do with his hands. 

“everything’s so expensive,” you murmur. 

the restaurant he’d chosen was one he was familiar with, customary for business meetings. he supposed it was on the higher end of the price range, but it only added to his ability to impress. 

money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy you a nice dinner and a pretty good bottle of wine. 

“i asked you out, i’m paying.” 

“we can just split it–” 

“it’s fine,” he waves off. “but if you insist, you can just cover the next one.”

you look up from your menu, amused. “we just sat down and you’re already asking me on a second date?”

he meets your gaze, grinning. “can you blame me?”

_____

despite the initial shock you’d received upon entering the restaurant, you slowly feel yourself begun to loosen up. maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it’s the fact that reo is…admittedly a really good date. 

(not just because he’s nice to look at, in a nice shirt with the two topmost buttons undone and trousers that hug his rear perfectly)

as the night wears on, you tell him a bit about yourself. about the things you like to do in your free time, your pet at home, how you ended up running a flower stall in the concrete jungle of downtown tokyo. he listens intently when you talk, asking questions here and there to convey his interest.

though he mostly keeps the conversation focused on you, he tells you about himself too. he talks about the recreational league he plays with on the weekends and the roommate that’s been his best friend since high school. he even talks about the charity gala he’s going to next weekend, representing his family’s business (it’s legit, you can google it! he laughs).

you actually know of the gala he’s talking about. it’s an annual fundraiser, and the order they’d put in at the flower shop you used to work at was one of the most expensive you’d ever seen. 

he insists on ordering dessert, the two of you sharing a piece of cheesecake as the night draws to a close. but before it does, you have to ask, 

“why did you ask me out?” 

he looks at you, seeming genuinely confused by your question. “what do you mean?”

you set your fork down, shrugging. “i’m not really your…type.”

“i have a type?” 

“influencers, ceo’s daughters, models…” you say, to list a few.

“you did google me when i was in the bathroom,” he laughs. he doesn’t seem offended, just amused.

you did google him, which is how you know he’s had a string of high profile relationships - and eventual breakups.

“your last date,” you remember. “why didn’t you see her again?”

he takes another bite of the cheesecake, chewing thoughtfully before answering, “nothing was wrong with her. she just weren’t right for me.”

“but i am?”

he pauses, then answers confidently, “i think you might be, yeah.” 

“is this the part where you tell me that we’re soulmates?” you tease, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours under the table. you’re trying to maintain a cool composure, but your heart is doing somersaults in your chest.

“no, because i’m a businessman,” he answers, nudging you back. “i believe in free will. when i see an opportunity, i just go for it. i’m not going wait for the universe to decide when i’ll get to be with my one true love.”

“so you believe in the human experience. subjective and objective choices. what about fate?”

“isn’t fate just a result of everyone’s choices? something inevitable, unavoidable.”

“description’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?” you counter. “think of it this way, i chose to set up my stall outside the restaurant, but it was fate that you were heading into it that night, which led to me being in this moment with you.” 

“one could argue that was just coincidence,” he points out. 

“you could. but maybe it was serendipity.” 

“now you’re just making up words,” he laughs, prompting you to throw your napkin at him. 

then he leans his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers and resting his chin atop them. “to put it simply— i am here right now. it wasn’t some inevitable thing because i chose to be here. with you.” 

influencers, ceo’s daughters, models. he could be with anyone else in japan, but he chose to be here with you. at the beginning of the night, you weren’t really sure what to expect from him, judging from your brief encounters at your flower stall. you’d known he was decently charming, sure, but tonight you’re getting the full picture. 

and the way he looks at you now…it was like you hung the moon and stars. 

“i like when you say it like that,” you admit, feeling heat bloom across your cheeks. 

“the philosophy course i took in university is paying off then.” 

you’re about to do something completely stupid like kiss him when you realize just how quiet it is in the restaurant. you’d been so distracted, so enamoured with the man in front of you that everything else had blurred into the background.

you lean back to look around. it’s completely empty, save for the waitstaff and hostess. 

“did we stay past closing?” you frown, wondering how you’d lost track of time. 

“it’s fine,” he assures you, reaching across the table to place a hand over yours. “i told you i made a reservation.”

“for the entire restaurant?!”

he only shakes his head, sighing and setting his papers down. “not anytime within the hour, i’m afraid. there’s much to be done before i meet with that troublesome archon of war tomorrow afternoon.”

you can’t hide your disappointment. you were hoping he’d resign himself to bed early for once so you could invite him to snuggle and hopefully then some. he works so hard— you’d like to take care of your husband even if he’s not generally the affectionate type.

and how he’d like to leave his paperwork for the night and fill his palms with something a little softer and sweeter than the stained, tattered cloth of ancient scrolls and contracts. how he’d like to indulge in the soft, comforting warmth only his wife is able to provide— rex lapis is inclined to believe that you’re hoping to tempt him into bed with the way you’re dressed. how sweet— his demure, flustered little wife wants to rile him up.

your nightgown is sheer enough to easily make out the outline of your areolas through the fabric and tiny enough to catch where it clings to your ample waist and soft belly— is there anything more erotic than seeing the gentle curve of your plump belly visible in your tight pajamas and sheer gowns? he doesn’t believe so.

answering his prior request, you make your way over to his desk. the candlelight coming from his workspace illuminates your body nicely— your husband really can make out the outline of your soft tits through the sheer silk of your nightgown.

“and is this your way of inviting me to bed?” he asks, expression completely neutral. oh, archons— is he going to mock you for such a pitiful attempt? scold you for attempting to interrupt his work? dismiss you with a disappointed sigh and a flick of his wrist? your husband is by no means cruel, but he does tend to be… cold.

“i thought that— it’s not… it’s not like that, i was just… getting comfortable,” you answer in a tiny voice, fiddling with the hem of your nightgown and tugging your bottom lip in between your teeth. “is it… no good?”

rex lapis replaces his quill pen in its dish of ink and sets it aside. “apologies, i didn’t mean it like that. it looks lovely on you, truly.”

“thank you, my love.”

rex lapis swallows hard— how do you always manage to be so sweet? how have you lived so many centuries untouched by the sin, wrath, and war every other god hasn’t been able to escape? how do you always manage to chip at his cold exterior?

“come here a moment,” he murmurs, hands settling on your soft waist. the way your body easily gives beneath his hands and allows him to get a good grip on you does more to him than he’d ever admit. soft and easily manipulated like bread dough, warm like a quilt left to dry in the sunlight all day, and more comforting than any of teyvat’s finest luxuries. you allow him to tug you into his lap, your arms shakily wrapping around his shoulders to better balance yourself on his thighs.

“this truly does look lovely on you. shall we go to the harbor tomorrow and purchase more silk to craft you a few more?” rex lapis offers, one of his dark, dully glowing hands sliding up the apex of one of your plump thighs. “perhaps paired with a necklace carved from cor lapis as well.”

his other hand gently maps the curve of your neck and your shoulder, relishing in the way you shiver and breathe his name quietly. you say nothing as he continues to trace your body like he’s drafting a map of liyue, his fingers dipping into the valley of your cleavage before retreating and drawing over the plump swells of your breasts.

“beautiful,” he murmurs contently, resting his face in the crook of your neck. “not a thing in all of teyvat could ever provide a man, mortal or immortal, with the same comfort and security his wife can.”

a hand grabbing at the soft tuft of your lower belly makes you shiver against his thighs, inadvertently rutting yourself against his leg as he gropes a generous handful of your tummy.

“lovely indeed,” he says matter-of-factly, as if he’s confirming a theory. “this softness serves as its own testament to a life of comfort, luxury, and generosity. my hands have long since worn down to callouses and bone from never-ending war and, as i’m sure you’ve noticed, my body is lined with a electric storm of scars after having sustained so many injuries. but you…”

your husband cups the plump heft of your belly in one of his broad palms, soft and undeniably warm against his skin as he massages your tummy with determination. “but you, my dearest… you stand for all the things i’ve fought for all this time. safety, comfort, and prosperity. a body this lovely is no greater proof of that.”

rex lapis cups your waist once more and gently drags you against one of his muscled thighs, sighing in delight in response to your surprised and pleasured moans. oh, he’d just love to eat you up.

“please allow me to continue worshipping your body as any man ought to worship his beloved, my love.”

being granted an audience with rex lapis is no easy task— he's as busy as they come, always up to his eyes in work as preparations for the archon war ramp up. he'll turn those just looking for a bit of mora or a pardon for past crimes away with a shake of his head and a slight scowl; such incidents are well known amongst all the people of liyue and other gods alike. being a lower deity yourself whose influence is restricted to just a single region of liyue rather than all of liyue like him, you'd be lying if you were to say you were expecting him to grant you the opportunity to speak with him— surely he has better things to do than listen to the whinings of a nobody.

after your display of humility and pure anxiety over the days that are sure to come, there was but a moment before rex lapis rose from his throne, descended the shiny golden stairs to meet you, and kneeled down to your position on the floor to tilt your chin up with his fingers. following your desperate plea for his protection, you kneeled and looked down at the floor below amidst your shame and humiliation for asking such a thing of the rex lapis— some could consider it a gesture of respect, as you feel you're undeserving of looking him in the eye, some could consider it a display of submission and resignation before a god leagues and leagues more powerful than yourself, and some could consider it an act of cowardice, too afraid to see the look on his face in response to your request. would he laugh? would he shake his head in a silent request to leave his presence immediately? would he smirk at the pathetic display before him?

his fingers under your chin force you to look him in the eye once more, and there's not an ounce of arrogance or rage on his face. there's not much a hint of any emotion on his face— he's always been renowned for his ability to remain in control of his emotions, and such a talent is both impressive and chilling. you can't tell what he's thinking as he only looks you over, silently admiring the plump apples of your cheeks, the curve of your ample bust, and the span of your soft hips as he helps you rise to your feet once more. truthfully, he's been admiring you since the moment you stepped through those massive stone doors— though lust and desire aren't emotions rex lapis has frequently felt before, nobody could deny the allure of the sweet curves of the most darling little goddess of fertility he's heard so much about. with a soft belly filling out the front of your flowing robes, any man who looks at you is likely to only have one single thing on his mind.

"hold your head high," he whispers simply. "and carry yourself as a goddess ought to. i have heard your request, and i have made my decision."

you tremble under the intensity of his amber gaze, and he releases your chin in favor of crossing his arms over his chest. the way you part your lips to speak before deciding instead to hold your tongue to avoid speaking out of turn is genuinely adorable; you really are as innocent as they seem— he almost wants to think that this is your first day, uh, "on the job" as a goddess because you're just so adorably naive and pliant.

"and i shall grant you my protection."

you knew better than to press him on his decision and ask why he'd even waste his time with someone like you, worried that you may anger or offend him into changing his mind and dismissing you without a second thought. all that matters to you is that you and those who worship you will surely be safe under the protective arm of rex lapis, and all that matters to him is ensuring that the people of liyue will be able to prosper for years and years to come. war ravages people, homes, and livelihoods, and who better to help him eventually repair a war-shattered liyue than the very goddess who stands for prosperity, good harvests, and family life? he'll secure his seat as archon and then immediately get to work on rebuilding liyue with you at the center of his plan— you'll surely bring forth ample livestock, bountiful harvests, healthy children and loving families, and a new era in liyue's history.

a win-win for the history books indeed. you and your people get protection for the rest of your days and rex lapis gets a darling little wife to put an heir in as well as a prosperous liyue.

.

.

.

"childe, for the last time, stop sending me gifts that cost more than my life!!" you barge into his office with a new set of sapphire jewelry in hand. none of the fatui recruits really blink an eye anymore, used to seeing your presence in the past few days.

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, and then pouts with a sound huff.

"is this set still not to your liking? i made sure to chose the best one.."

"best as in the most expensive?"

"...the most beautiful."

"childe i-"

"i said you could call me ajax when we're alone" his frown deepens along with the crease in his brow. you can't lie to yourself when you say that it didn't make your heart twinge with a little guilt.

"....ajax, i don't need you to be sending me all these lavish items." you mutter softly. you notice him flinch a little, before masking it with his normal playful expression.

"ahh... i don't know what to do.." he dramatically sighs. you lift your brow. "i'm sure my face is plenty attractive, and i'm still young all things considered. and my body is up to standards i suppose."

"..?"

"but you're not falling for it!! is my face not your type? or is it my personality? what is your type? i can change to be whatever you like." his rambling causes him to unintentionally lean closer towards you, pressing for answers to his desperate questions. he's close enough that his scent washes over you, pleasantly surprising you.

"what cologne do you wear?" his eye widens in glee. uh oh.

"do you like it? i'll wear it everyday for you." his charms really flow out of him as naturally as he breathes. you shake your head. no. that won't work on you.

"do whatever you want." you place the box of jewelry on his desk. his eyes follow your movement.

"you didn't answer my question."

"yeah it's nice. reminds me of the ocean"

"not that one." your eyes meet his. the eyes that also resemble the ocean that you think of. the one that has gentle swaying waves, a soothing breeze that wisps through the air, soft melodies whispered in the depths of the water. an ocean that brings you comfort like no other.

oh. oh. oh.

in your silence, childe slowly inches his hand towards his rejected gift. snaking the necklace out of its hold, grabbing the clasps.

the cold tingle against your collarbone pulls you back to reality.

"hey stop it. i never accepted it." your words go ignored as you feel his hands fumble to clasp each end together, his gaze tenderly tracing around your face. an overwhelming gaze that you can't get used to with how much emotion you can feel from him. a rare thing.

"just give me a chance. please." his fingers dance around the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your back with how intimate you've let him get with you.

"...fine." you suppose it's alright to indulge in this feeling a little.

the pure joy that radiated off the man in front of you could really blind you.

"really!!!?! no take backs okay?? you swear?? promise me right now!!" his animated words come out quickly, with one of his hands lifted right in front of you with his pinky extended. cute. you extend yours as well and wrap it around his.

"you know what a pinky promise means snezhnaya right?"

"mhm. you make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life. you break a pinkie promise, i throw you on the ice. the cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend, the frost will freeze your tongue off so you never lie again."

childe thinks you've gotten even prettier in his eyes, only reciting a simple nursery rhyme from his home country makes his heart pound even harder.

"then we can get the rest of this set on with a cute little dress for our date later tonight at wanmin-"

"no."

"what~!! fine, minus the jewelry."

"no."

"why.."

"i don't want to eat at some fancy restaurant."

"...then at my place.?" his face has a light dust of pink on it.

"alright. meet you at 7."

with that, you twist out of his hold (his hand snuck to the small of your back) and walk out of his office. childe is unable to push down the stupid grin that takes over his face throughout the whole day. the fatui recruits shiver at the thought of the maniacal smile that covers his murderous mood that day.

.

.

.

it doesn't take more than a few seconds before you hear a noise barreling at the door, flinging it open before tugging you inside, in a deathly embrace.

"hey!! i'm almost done with the last dish, come with me!!" his excited state pulls you with him barely letting you take off your shoes as you follow his long strides towards the kitchen.

his place his clean, light decor sprinkled around some corners. you see a lot of frames on the wall, with various people in each photo. he must cherish his family.

the air is filled with the aroma of many fragrant dishes foreign to you. childe settles you on a dining chair before rushing towards the stoves. it allows you to see him don an adorable pink apron. you wish you brought your kamera.

"do you need help?"

"no, just sit there prettily and wait for me." he chimes out. you roll your eyes are his comment, but fail to keep your lips from stretching into a smile. your eyes don't leave his form, taking note of how this light makes him look softer, more domestic. you look at the way the muscles of his arm tense with every movement of the pan, the way his fingers expertly sprinkle spices, the way he hums a tune while cooking.

it's a nice view.

"enjoying the view?" his voice is filled with a teasing tone, as his face reads nothing but amusement and mirth.

"no, i'm looking at the food." you scoff, feeling your face heat up. he laughs and turns back to the pan.

eventually he finishes the last dish, and lays everything in front of you. you take note of the lack of ingredients you dislike.

"uh, i didn't know what dishes you like, so i hope you like these. they're some snezhnayian dishes i grew up with.." he's visibly worried, but you quickly quell those thoughts.

"it smells amazing. i want to try them all." he perks up and settles down.

"please, help yourself."

each bite you take makes you delight in the flavors that hit your tongue, your face lighting up with every dish you try.

childe can't describe the tugging in his heart as he observes each of your positive expressions as you enjoy the dishes he made.

the usually lonely and empty dinner table is filled with light chatter and giggles, replacing the void that left a cold bitterness in childe's heart.

after everything was completed finished with no leftovers, you take it upon yourself to wash the dishes, leaving no argument for childe when you threatened to take back your promise (he thinks that was too cruel of you to pull that over him).

he stands by you while you wash each dish, eventually shifting to tugging you against his chest as he rests his head on your shoulder. you bite back your complaint of the difficulty to move in the position when you hear his content sigh.

his heart is drunk on the pleasure of your presence that feels so natural in his life. the presence that fits perfectly in his present and future by his side, as his only lover.

he can't help but let his mind wander, thinking of the moments when you would visit his hometown, when you would meet his beloved family, when you would carry his younger siblings in your arms, when his family would dress you in traditional snezhnayian clothing.

these thoughts don't leave his mind, even as you finish up and he leads you to the couches, filling the silence with mindless chatter of his family when you ask more about himself.

you planned on leaving sooner or later, but you couldn't help but give yourself a few more minutes, listening to his voice for a little longer. the longer you stayed, the more comfortable you felt. eventually, you let yourself be lured into the darkness as you drift off.

childe carefully directs your head towards his shoulder when he sees you start to drowse off. he thinks you're attractive even when you're asleep. an angel sent from heaven.

the item in his pocket weighs a little heavier now. with a little hesitance, he carefully pulls it out, making sure not to disturb your sleep,

opening it up, the crystal gleams the same crimson glow as the one that dangles off his ear every day.

with cautious movements, he gently puts it on your ear. it rests softly against your jaw. his heart pounds so loudly he worries that it would wake you up.

kaeya leans over to whisper into your ear. although you're laying on your back whilst he pounds into your sweet little cunt, there's something about the way your cheeks heat up whenever he praises you that make him go absolutely feral.

the pace of his hips is sharp, snapping against your own and showing no sign of halting. it perfectly contrasts his gentle touch. each carress to your face, your thighs, your tummy, your breasts contains immeasurable love and adoration.

"so pretty like this," he cooes. one of his hands slips underneath your head, lifting you ever so slightly as he bring himself down to kiss you. "oh, darling," he groans as your lips part. his face contorts in pleasure, not bothering to maintain the snarky, teasing demeanor that he sports around others.

kaeya takes his time with you. while he keeps his movements a little frenetic, his primary goal is to go as deep as he can — and he's doing a damn good job. every time he pulls out, he leaves you empty, stretched open by only the swollen head of his cock. then he wastes no time fully sheathing himself inside of you, so much so that if you didn't know any better, you would think he's inside your womb.

he pays full attention to your whimpers and begs, listening to your body's every desire. eventually, you ask him for more. while you could reach down and play with your own puffy clit, kaeya swatted your hands away each time you've tried. "let me take care of you, sweetheart," he said, same saccharine tone as ever. you were too embarrassed to ask, yet he'd fucked you to a point of neediness that it was no longer an option.

"there we go, was that so difficult?" he chuckles lightly. before you have the chance to shy away, his fingers as spreading your sticky folds, assessing the situation. he gathers a blob of spit on his tongue, landing it directly onto your clit and making you shiver before providing the comfort of his lithe digits circling the sensitive bud. "so fucking perfect, aren't you?"

you're not sure how he manages to make you melt with such expert precision, though you're also not sure that you care. pleasure is coursing through your veins, the knot in your stomach growing tighter with every movement. and kaeya could tell.

"are you ready to cum, my darling?" he muses. "i won't make you beg, i'm not a total monster,"

you nod frantically, not trusting your voice. kaeya chuckles at your eagerness, consumed by the knowledge that only he got to see you like this and only he could make you feel such way.

"come on, my pretty bunny. let it all out," he states, continuing to play with you. "i'm going to breed you nice and full, okay? fuck, i can't stop thinking about how heavenly you'd look swollen with our kids..." kaeya notices how your walls flutter around him at such confession. "you like it that much, my love?" he leans down, resting his forehead against your own and staring into your eyes.

"aren't you an angel, hmm? my angel, my bunny," kaeya rambles. within a few deep thrusts, you can feel his cock twitch inside of you, spilling ropes of cum against your cervix. the sensation pushed you over the edge too, slick from your combined highs creating a mess between your legs.

"so sweet," kaeya cooes, kissing you adoringly. he holds you close, not pulling out from you just yet. "let me stay like this for a while, okay?" he punctates the sentence by kissing your forehead gently.

You smile as you make your way over to his slowly waking body, taking his hand gently in yours to be the first thing when he woke up. Kissing the knuckles finally had him stirring, and he blinked those bleary green eyes open at you, you practically saw the hearts forming in them.

“Morning, sunshine,” you coo, moving your free hand over to card the messy locks of hair from his face. “How do you feel?”

He tries to speak, but it comes out as a croaky ‘guhhh’ and from a few feet away, the nurse chuckles.

“He’ll have some nasty cotton mouth- literally- for the next few days, but communication should be normal as he starts to wake up,” she says, snapping the gloves off her hands. Then, she passes you the care directions, “no rush. If you need anything, just press the buzzer.” At this point, Rintaro has taken the liberty of grabbing all the gauze he can to put in his mouth. You assume it’s to absorb all the spittle.

“No, no honey,” you chuckle, gently grabbing his hands and pulling the damp cloth out easily. “Be careful. We can change your gauze when we get home.”

“I ‘ont wonna shange my gods,” he mumbles, resting his hands on yours. “‘Ike my gods.”

“Gauze, baby,” you titter. You lean over to plant some kissed onto his forehead, hoping your affections will ease him back more. “The nurse said you might be woozy when you stand, so let’s take it slow okay?”

“Yesh, bosh,” he slurs out. He blinks his foggy eyes before letting them wander around the room, over the sharp objects and wooden cupboards, all before wandering back to you. They widen before a brow quirks in confusion, "who're you 'gain?"

"Me?" You snicker. "I'm the one who's gonna keep you alive for the next few days. Your parents are away, so you're stuck with me." You turn your head slightly, "though that may be the other way around."

"Keep me 'live?" Now, he gives you a small, messy smirk. "'re too schexy to keep me 'live."

"Are you hitting on me?"

He doesn't answer you. Instead, he lets out a small string of laughter, head rolling around his neck in haze. You snort before opting to move him up and out of the room, "come on Romeo. Before you pass out on me."

"nuh-uh," he argues. You, however, choose to ignore him.

It's hard to pay attention when there's a pile of 185 centimeter man on your right shoulder, saying goodbye to every hygienist, dentist, secretary, patron, and flower on the sidewalk on the way to the car. There's a slurp from the spittle in his mouth that rings in your ear and makes you want to gag, but you chose to count some of your blessings.

He's at least mobile- unlike the horror stories you've heard about Osamu falling asleep in the seat while Atsumu wailed about the bandaid on his arm.

Finally, you and your oaf are able to make it to the car, his eyes closed in an attempt to sleep, and you jostle him awake slightly.

"I need you to work with me just a bit longer, okay?"

"When'd we get ousside?" He slurs.

"Not long after you said goodbye to the flowers," you say, rolling your eyes. "Watch your head, babe."

He ducks under your guiding palm, but you're not fast enough before he bumps the crown of his head against the door frame, mumbling a soft "ow" before moving on. It takes everything in your power to not laugh at his poor expense.

"It's because you've got such a big melon head, booger," you tease, and he smiles softly.

"'Ike mewons."

"I know baby."

You buckle him in before closing the door. You give yourself a stretch before heading to the driver's side.

You hadn't had him out of your sight for 25 seconds before you open the door and see him with your chapstick, completely rolled up and making a move towards his mouth.

He's either eating it, or trying to apply it.

Neither sounds like a good idea.

“Rintaro!” You scold, reaching for the chapstick. “You can’t eat that! You’ll get sick!”

“You’re th'ick,” he grumbles, but he does release his hold on your chapstick. His head thunks back against the headrest, letting you buckle while he says one more round of goodbyes to the flowers.

"Gonna nap," he murmurs, and you chose not to fight him on it. "Don't pick mah nothe."

"Why the hell would I do that?" You ask, laughing as you start the car.

He doesn't answer you. He's too busy letting his jaw slack open and let out the wheeziest of snores. You put your hand on his thigh and squeeze lovingly, allowing the hum of the engine and warmth from the sun lull him to sleep.

He's out, he's comfortable, and you can't wait to tell him about how, even drugged out of his mind, he still tried to put the moves on you.