#Air Quality checker

[magicalbats]

never fallen from quite this high

Rating: R/18+

Word count: 21490

Warnings: afab!reader, chubby reader, size difference, age difference, desk sex, missionary position, cunnilingus, barebacking, vaginal fingering, cum eating, a hint of enemies to lovers

A/N: I put my whole badussy into this one, guys vmsksjfe I hope ya'll enjoy the fic, and major shoutout to my longtime friend, fellow writer and quality checker for this piece @abbacchiosbelt! Everyone should make sure to check out her page while you're here! She's got plenty of goodies for you to sink your teeth into!

⭐

As far as meetings in the back office of the Northland Bank were concerned, this one was an unmitigated disaster. 

The young man seated across the table had blown in like a veritable typhoon late that morning when the sun was just short of reaching its zenith. He came with neither a formal missive or a courier to precede his arrival, catching all the Snezhnayan natives off guard and woefully ill prepared. It wasn’t hard to figure out that the branch director, a stout bespectacled man in his middle years, hadn’t known he would be coming given the way he’d nearly fallen over in a dead faint at the first sight of him. It was almost nonstop chaos after that as everyone rushed about to prepare fresh coffee and snacks, and to arrange lodgings for their guest. A few staff members even quietly slipped off at the director's behest to double check that everything was in order behind the scenes, silently disappearing off into the shadows like phantoms returning to their dark crypts.  

You hadn’t been sure what to make of it all at first, but had quickly caught on that this was someone important in their ranks. Someone with a great deal of power and influence who was in all likelihood a dangerous individual no matter how disarming his easy smiles were. 

But, truth be told, the mysterious man didn’t look like much no matter how you tried to discreetly size him up from a distance. He was tall yet lanky in build, moving with the thinly veiled grace of a warrior — or perhaps a dancer, but your mora was on the former if he was able to work everyone up into such a frenzy just by showing his face. And despite his lean physique, you could tell he was indeed quite strong simply by the way he carried himself, all boldfaced confidence and self assured the way only a man in his prime could pull off. He was definitely trouble. 

And you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. You were just the PR ambassador, after all, and a token one at that. Your job was to help foster good relations between the icy foreigners and your fellow Liyuean’s, not to insert your nose in business it didn’t belong. 

With that in mind, you’d tried to beat a hasty retreat before anyone could notice your presence and subsequent absence, but the director was a crafty one indeed. You barely made it two full steps before he was suddenly right there beside you, as if he’d materialized out of thin air to cut off your escape route. Summarily ignoring your protests, he’d dragged you with him towards the conference room nestled in the far back of the building where the unknown youth was already waiting, depthless blue eyes dancing with good humor and mirth. The click of the door behind you had sounded like a death sentence.  

The following half hour was occupied (to your surprise) primarily with pleasant niceties and intermittent toasts over that potent firewater Snezhnayan’s seemed to like so much, but which you had primly declined. Even if the stuff didn’t make you gag at just a thought, the current situation was a bit too uncertain for you to risk compromising your faculties like that. None of the northerners in the room seemed to bat an eye at it though; not the director or his personal secretary, nor the ginger haired man who was evidently known to his colleagues as Childe. He seemed almost too casual about everything — the drinks and the banter, and the fond reminiscences of their homeland casually passed between them — to be here on official matters of business. You soon concluded that it was a personal visit, then. Perhaps even a holiday of sorts. 

You’re quickly proven wrong, however, when he unceremoniously flips everything on its head with the procurement of a sealed parchment from somewhere on his person. The director’s reaction to its contents was a stark one and it made you sit up straighter in your seat, half prepared to bolt for the exit should the need arise. But the next few minutes are a terse, confusing whirlwind as the three foreigners revert to their mother tongue, trading rapid volleys back and forth while the director’s tone of voice grows increasingly more tremulous by the minute, and you aren’t quite sure what’s going on anymore. You’re almost convinced that a fight is going to break out at any moment but a surreptitious glance at Childe shows him still at ease, apparently not even invested enough in the discord he’s sewn to give the other man his full attention. Rather, you catch him grinning over at you. 

“Is he always like this?” He poses the question lightly, the lilt in his voice bordering on playful, but you don’t trust it. Not by a long shot. 

The director sputters in thinly veiled offense but you ignore him completely, much more concerned about the yet unknown danger sitting across the table. Making a valiant effort to keep your expression pleasant and neutral, you offer Childe a polite smile. “Not usually.” 

He quirks a brow at that vague non-answer but doesn’t comment on it, swiveling his attention back around to the issue at hand. Finally pulling himself out of his confident slouch, he sits forward to take up the crystalline glass decanter sitting just within reach so he can pour more of that pungent drink into first the director’s cup and then his own. “Come now, old friend. Is this really something to get so worked up about? And right in front of our Liyuean guest too …” 

The director cuts you a sharp, slicing look and you get the sense that he was regretting the decision to drag you back here for this impromptu meeting, visibly struggling to rein his temper in with a deep, bullish exhale. Serves him right, you think bitterly to yourself. You never had any business sitting in on this bizarre exchange in the first place. 

“Apologies, my lord. I did not mean to forget my manners,” Another brief glance over at you, as if he were trying to warn you to keep your head down. As if you really needed any further incentive to do just that. “However, it is my deepest regret to inform you that I’m not confident if this branch of the Northland Bank has the means to accommodate your, ah … needs.”

Slowly, Childe lifts his strange eyes to pin the director with a look that sends shivers racing down your spine. You’d been relatively certain he was far more dangerous than he outwardly appeared but this was something far beyond even what you had anticipated. How did someone so young, still in the prime of his youth with his whole life ahead of him, manage to embody such a deep, dark sense of foreboding at the drop of a coin? 

“What are you saying, Krzysiek? Are we not in Liyue, the very birthplace of mora? There should be plenty to spare in your vaults.” 

The director hurriedly rushes to amend himself, trying to play it off with a laugh. “Yes, my lord. Of course, that is all indeed true. But even the amount of mora in circulation at any given time has its limits. You see, if I were to give you this very large sum here and now,” the director pointedly taps the parchment in his hand with a worn finger. “Then there won’t be anything at all left in our reserves. We wouldn’t be able to give out any new loans, pay our staff their wages or even let any of our customers withdraw from their accounts. I can’t imagine the owner of the bank would appreciate that very much, so I’m sure you understand my hesitation.” 

Mouth opening in surprise when you realize just how large a sum the request must be, you eagerly swing your head towards Childe in anticipation of his next response. 

Luckily for you, he doesn’t even seem to notice with the whole of his attention fixed singularly on the director, and you watch in something not unlike fascination as he slowly leans forward in his seat. “Are you an idiot? It was Regrator himself who signed that order.” He growls, flashing pretty white teeth. “Check it again, maybe a little more carefully this time. I’m not some lackey trying to pull one over on you.” 

“Certainly not, my lord. I never suggested - -“ 

“You may report directly to my colleague but I’m still a Harbinger, Krzysiek. I think Regrator would like your lack of foresight even less than not being able to let people take out withdraws.” 

A pair of sharp gasps echo inside the room and, in almost perfect unison, the director and his secretary both turn twin looks of horror on you. 

Pulse stuttering, you pointedly keep your expression blank even while the urge to reel back in shock threatens to overpower you. You’d heard rumor of the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers, whispers of their great influence and even greater strength, but the Snezhnayan’s stationed in Liyue weren’t very forthcoming about any of the details or specifics. You’d also never seen one in person before and hadn’t thought it was even possible for one to be so young as this. Childe looked like he was perhaps only a few years younger than you … three, or perhaps even four, but yet he held a title so grand? 

And judging by the way they were looking at you, you probably weren’t supposed to know that. 

Following their line of sight, Childe glances over at you and smiles. “Ah, you’re worried about our little guest here spilling the beans? People will soon start to gossip amongst themselves anyway, so I don’t think it really matters.” His boyish grin fades as he turns his attention back to the director again, tone losing all of its mirth. “I’d say you have much more pressing concerns right now.” 

Nervously, the director drags a stiff hand over his mouth to wipe away the beads of sweat starting to form along his upper lip. “Yes, my lord. Of course. You are correct.” He pauses to clear his throat. “I’m sure we can find a satisfactory compromise. Please allow me a chance to correspond with, ah, my lord directly and confirm his wishes first. Surely there are things you’d like to see or do while you’re in Liyue? This will at least give you the chance to explore the city at your own leisure while I await his response.” 

“You mean to further waste my time, Krzysiek? Is that it?” 

“No, not at all! I would never dream of such a thing and that is precisely why I brought her along.” He gestures at you then, making your back snap straight as board. You don’t think you can hide it any longer, the dread curling like a venomous serpent low in your gut, but if he sees any of the thinly veiled terror in your face he doesn’t acknowledge it. “As I said earlier, this is our personal relations ambassador at the branch and she knows the city like the back of her hand. Why, I dare say there isn’t a single stone she doesn’t know the history of. You’ll have your own personal tour guide to show you everything you might ever wish to see while you’re here.” 

Your mouth drops open in abject shock. You hadn’t agreed to that. Wouldn’t have even if he’d asked, not now and not in a million years. Not ever. 

But Childe turns his head before you can protest and anything you might have said catches in your throat when he gives you a chilling once over. Gradually, his expression thaws and his shoulders relax as he reclines back into his seat with a long suffering sigh for effect. “Fine. You have three days to get your clearance directly from Regrator then. That’s how long I was planning to stay in Liyue anyway so it doesn’t exactly change anything, although I still don’t understand why his signature on that letter won’t just as well suffice.” 

“My sincerest apologies, my lord. I only wish to make absolutely certain I do not go against his wishes in meeting yours.” The director reaches out to hold his cup up to Childe who disinterestedly eyes it for a beat before doing the same with his own, much to the older man’s visible relief. “Our ambassador will take good care of you, and see that your every need is met during your stay. This I swear on Snezhnaya’s honor.” 

“Enough, Krzysiek.” Childe grumps, clinking their glasses together. “Just don’t come up short handed when everything is said and done.” 

You watch them drink to it, tossing their heads back almost simultaneously to swallow down that deceptively clear liquid with neither a grimace or a seething hiss to show for its potency. It’s as if it doesn’t even register in their minds but you, on the other hand, felt disproportionately nauseous considering you hadn’t had so much as a sip of their aptly named firewater. You didn’t even really understand what was happening or how things had gotten to this point but if there was one singular truth you were sure of it was this: 

You desperately needed to find some way out of it. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dejectedly, you hand the fresh grilled skewer of fish out to Childe who takes it with a smile and a quick word of thanks. He doesn’t even stop long enough to blow on the visibly hot meat before biting into it, and you watch him huff and puff between chews to let some of the steam escape from his puckered lips before quickly swallowing it down. Your patience with him was fast unraveling, and not even because of his questionable manners. If you were honest with yourself you would have had to admit that he was frustratingly charming in a boyish, borderline clumsy sort of way. Cute, even. 

But your desperate attempt to weasel your way out of this had fallen on deaf ears, the director insistent that you were the only person in all of Liyue who could possibly play tour guide for the visiting Harbinger. You’d begged, pleaded and even threatened to resign from your position at the Northland Bank right then and there if that was what it would take for you to avoid having to deal with the situation any longer. The director had finally wavered at that, looking like he might be slowly coming around, but before he could actually relieve you of this assignment none other than the devil himself had appeared, right on cue. 

He was eager to set out and get started on exploring the city after freshening up, and hadn’t taken ‘no’ for an answer when you’d argued against it. Your pleas for a little more time with the director were likewise summarily dismissed, and before you realized what was even happening he’d thrown a friendly arm over your shoulder so he could steer you towards the door. Completely undeterred by any of your hissing complaints or threats of retaliation upon him, he pulled you straight out into the midafternoon sun where he’d made a prompt request for lunch. He was so amicably pushy about everything that you’d had no choice but to comply or risk having him drag you all over the harbor by the arm.

That hadn’t been the best start to your time together but, somehow even worse, is that Childe had proven himself to be every bit as troublesome as you’d first expected him to be. He joked too much, for starters, and his penchant for eagerly pulling you off in whichever direction caught his fancy was quickly running you ragged. Excitable and full of unspent energy, it was all you could do just to keep up with him. You’d tried to tell yourself it would only be lunch, just one place and then you would wipe your hands of him, but he was undaunted and things were still not going in your favor. 

Even stopping at a small kiosk for a quick snack was not enough to keep him standing still for very long and the two of you are soon off again in a seemingly random direction, as dictated by his spur of the moment whims and fancies. You were going to be exhausted by the time this day was finally over. 

“Hey, what’s that all about?”

Bringing your head up, you follow his line of sight to a small congregation of people flocking around a lone figure in the center of all the bustling excitement. You recognize the bonnet immediately, and a smile slowly pulls at your mouth. “That is our very own star of the opera. Her name is Yunjin, and she’s very popular among the general public and aficionados alike.” 

But when you bring your gaze back around, you’re startled (and more than just a bit horrified) to find his attention fixated on you rather than the crowd. 

“Oho, so you do know how to smile! I was starting to wonder if you just didn’t remember how.” 

“W - what is that supposed to mean?” You snip, recoiling defensively. 

“Oh, nothing,” he sing-songs right back. “It’s just that all I’ve seen you do so far is scowl and look like a skittish kitten ever since we met. I’m glad to know you like something, even if it isn’t me.” 

Childe’s lilting laughter makes the blood rush to your face, and you quickly look away so he doesn’t see the fluster you were valiantly trying to stamp down. “Forgive me, xiansheng. I did not mean to be rude. It’s just — all of this was dumped on me so suddenly and you’re …” 

“Hm? And I’m what?” 

This shameless teasing was perhaps the worst facet of his personality of all. The pushiness and the refusal to acknowledge any protests were one thing, the strange dissonance in his behavior another entirely, but this … it was vaguely reminiscent of a boy who either hadn’t yet learned his manners or didn’t care enough about the consequences to keep his mouth in check. You suspected it to be the latter, his confidence as unerring as his energy, and you would’ve had half a mind to give him a good swat on the behind had he not been nearly double your height and only a few years your junior. Unfortunately, you were in no position to correct him. 

So you school your expression into a professional mask of indifference and turn your head to pin him with the most bland look you can muster. “A Harbinger. It’s true, isn’t it?” 

He quirks a brow at you, evidently not having expected that to be your response. “Is that really what’s had you so on edge this whole time? You’re worried about my title?” Abruptly throwing his head back, he laughs up at the sky. “Goodness, I had no idea that upset you so much. If I’m being honest, you were so stoic back at the bank that I wasn’t even sure if you knew what a Harbinger was!” 

You can feel your cheeks starting to turn hot again and you quickly try to wrestle it back under control. “Of course I’ve heard the rumors! It would have been a little hard to avoid them in this position but you Snezhnayan’s usually aren’t the most talkative bunch, you know. I’m sure there’s plenty of information I’m still not privy to.” 

“Ooh, and is that your way of asking me to help you understand a bit better?” Childe sends you a slow, knowing grin, and you have no choice but to admit that you were in a bit over your head with him no matter how much you might try to fight it. He was regrettably adept at embarrassing you, it seemed. 

“It might be nice to know what I’ve got myself mixed up with.” You softly, grudgingly admit, earning a chuckle out of him. 

“Alright. I suppose I can share a few details with you, but I want to ask a few things in return. How does that sound?” 

Your head snaps up and you fix him with a surprised, questioning look. Ever unperturbed, he ruefully wags his skewer stick at you with an unmistakable, mischievous gleam in his strange eyes. 

“It’s only fair, right girlie? I’ll tell you what you want to know and you’ll tell me what I want to know. Isn’t that what alchemists call equivalent exchange?” 

Huffing, you cross your arms under your breasts and pin him with a flat look, trying to impart just how unamused you are with his silly little shenanigans. “Don’t call me that. And I don’t know anything about alchemy, but … okay. I’ll play along. Within reason.”  

Your answer seems to delight him to no end, and he promptly flies off into a rather expressive tangent about Snezhnaya, her majesty the Tsaritsa, the Fatui and the eleven Harbingers that command their numbers. He gesticulates eagerly throughout his explanation, primarily touching on rank and hierarchy, but it soon becomes gibberish that simply goes in one ear and out the other. You were not intimately familiar with the inner workings of either government or military, and you had no desire to be, but you decide to let him keep talking anyway. It was clear he was only telling you very surface level information that would neither give away too much or reveal any national security secrets, but there were still a few things you were able to glean from listening to what he did say. 

One was that the Harbingers were not only a very, very dangerous organization as a whole but even on an individual scale each was more powerful than the last. It was a little hard to believe at first when you were looking at Childe — so young and long-limbed, and seemingly unfettered by any greater concern than where his next source of entertainment would derive from, but recalling the intense shift in his demeanor back at the bank … yes, you were willing to believe he stood among the most elite warriors in Snezhnaya. Although you hadn’t seen his physical prowess in action yet (and hopefully never would) it was a decidedly good idea not to take him at face value. Doubly so for the rest of his colleagues, including the one you yourself indirectly worked for. 

The second was the nature of his visit to Liyue. He danced around the subject for the most part but he did let it slip that he was headed to Fontaine after securing the funds, presumably per his orders to personally transport the mora himself, and you supposed that did make a certain amount of sense. If he was as strong as you believed him to be then it would explain why he would have been saddled with such a task. Though, it also didn’t escape your notice that he spoke on the subject with no shortage of annoyance coloring his voice and it was hardly any wonder why. Childe was clearly the type who preferred hands-on, proactive roles that put him in the heart of conflict rather than acting behind the scenes like this. He wasn’t exactly trying to hide it, after all. 

Regardless, it was somewhat reassuring to know that many of your initial assumptions about him had been correct and you now knew with absolute certainty that you needed to be careful in how you approached these interactions with him. It wouldn’t do to somehow offend him and invite his wrath upon yourself or your family, because clearly there would be no stopping him in that case. But did that in turn mean you were stuck playing tour guide for the duration of his stay, lest you risk upsetting him?

This was turning into quite the conundrum, indeed. 

“And that’s about it.” He says at last, much too cheery for your liking. “For what I can tell you, anyway. I know it probably seems like I left quite a bit out but trust me, girlie, you don’t want to get tangled up with this more than you already are. Hopefully I was able to satisfy some of your curiosity though.” 

“You did,” you murmur slowly. Then, with more conviction, “And don’t call me that. Didn’t I already tell you that once?” 

Laughingly, he waves you off. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. But let’s put that aside for right now. It’s my turn to have some questions answered. Think you’re up to it?” 

You hesitate, wondering what he could possibly want to know. If it was information about Liyue you would have gladly divulged it without the need for this trade between you and him, but you’d long since picked up on the fact that he just liked being difficult for the sake of it so it didn’t exactly come as a surprise. It was a bit annoying though, having to humor these silly games of his like this. 

“Alright, I’ll do my best.” You say at last. “Just keep in mind that I can’t tell you something I don’t know. Your questions have to be within reason, remember?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m sure you won’t have any problem answering this.” 

Growing ever more suspicious, you quirk a brow at him but he just offers you that same boyish grin again. If the circumstances had been any different you probably would have found yourself giving in to its magnetic pull despite your (well founded, in your opinion) reservations about doing so, but even that attractive smile was not enough to distract from who — or rather what he was, and you brace for the worst. Was he going to ask you about the Qixing or maybe Lady Ningguang specifically? The Milileth? 

Your thoughts are abuzz with the possibilities but the very last thing you expect him to ask is precisely what comes out of his mouth next. 

“Do you have any siblings?” 

Stopping dead in your tracks, you stare up at him in abject disbelief. That was what he wanted to know? 

“Hey, let’s keep it moving, girlie.” He can’t seem to get his laughter under control as he pivots on his heel and takes hold of your elbow, pulling you back into motion again. You fall in step, stumbling slightly, as he pins you with the most mischievous grin you’ve seen yet — the unapologetic rascal! “Wouldn’t want anyone to run you over, now would we? I’m not sure if my poor little heart would ever recover.” 

Lips pursing, you narrow your eyes at him in warning even while he whoops it up, drawing the attention of more than just a few passersby. How humiliating it was to be seen with someone like this in broad daylight. 

“I’m an only child.” You grit out, snatching your arm from him with a prim huff for good measure. 

Your prickly attitude doesn’t deter him half as much as you would’ve liked though, and Childe merely takes it in stride as if you weren’t doing everything in your power short of stomping on his toe to dissuade him from continuing on in this manner. So on and so forth, he eagerly poses a seemingly never ending series of questions that range from as benign as how old you were (three years older than him, you come to find) right up to your relationship status. You try very hard to shut down his more intrusive queries, refuse to humor them with a real answer, but his pushiness returns with a vengeance. Any attempt to side step or discourage him was just met with the same question worded a different way until you finally gave in with no other choice and no escape in sight. More than once he even pretended to move on from a topic to placate and soothe you before eventually circling right back around to it again when you least expected it. 

He was exhausting in the worst possible way. Unrepentant and shameless, utterly hopeless, he badgers you incessantly for the rest of the afternoon until you could scarcely tell what was what anymore. You’d never felt quite so harried or like a cornered rabbit in all your life. 

By the time you finally make your way back to the Northland Bank, hours later when the sun was sitting low on the horizon and you’d had to put your foot down about returning before dark, you practically have to drag yourself up the winding staircase just to reach the entrance. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been so tired, and not just physically but mentally as well. Childe, on the other hand, did not seem to be flagging at all and he takes the stairs with ease and that same innate grace you’d first noticed in him earlier, bounding ahead to reach the landing first. 

Assuming he’d already gone inside, you achingly pull yourself up the last few remaining steps only to come to an abrupt halt when you find him standing there with the door held open. Waiting. For you? 

He snickers at your expression, further putting you on guard. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s the least I can do after nagging you so much.” 

That was the very definition of an understatement.

You don’t budge though, slowly curling your hands into loose fists at your sides when it occurs to you that just returning to the bank did not necessarily mean an end to your suffering. Hadn’t you already endured enough? 

He was incorrigible and confusing, and more than just a little bothersome — like a too-friendly dog with an overabundance of energy that just wanted to play and have all of your attention to himself. You may have been able to make peace with that for the sake of your own wellbeing and that of your family, but when coupled with the barrage of questions that had persisted wherever in the city you’d walked together, whatever you’d stopped to point out in an attempt to distract him from his continuous questioning … you just couldn’t seem to reconcile the problem he presented in your mind.  

If not because you were nothing more than a PR ambassador, not a babysitter, then certainly because being in such close proximity with him was looking even more ill advised than it first had that afternoon. If you didn’t know any better you would have almost thought he was actually interested in you, the way he’d asked you so many personal questions about yourself. But you do know better and you’re well aware that someone like him would never want someone like you. It’s not as if you were blind. The stature of him had certainly not escaped your notice, nor had his boyish good looks. He was tall, a bit gangly at the moment, perhaps, but that was sure to change over the years as he settled further into his own body, into his muscle mass, and finished filling the rest of the way out. And even those most peculiar eyes of his weren’t enough to detract from the high cheekbones of his face or the strong jawline that framed pale pink lips. By contrast, you were soft and round, diminutive compared to him, and not at all the sort of woman a man such as him pursued in good faith. 

Of course he didn’t want you — why would he? It was laughable, if you were being honest. As much as anyone else might have been flattered and charmed to be on the receiving end of his attention, you were finding the whole thing to be a rather nightmarish experience. As if worrying about offending a powerful Harbinger had not been bad enough, now he was teasing you too … And somehow, even knowing all this, that still doesn’t stop it from hurting just a little bit. 

You’d reached the end of your rope as far as he was concerned. You couldn’t do this anymore and you refused to be the butt of his little inside jokes any longer. It was simply too much, even for you.  

“I’m going home.” You blurt out, clearly surprising him given the way his brows shoot up to disappear beneath that haphazard tousle of reddish-brown hair. “My shift ended a while ago. I just wanted to make sure you got back without getting lost, or the director would start to worry if you were late to return.” 

Childe doesn’t even try to hide his disappointment, expression falling as he unceremoniously lets go of the door so that it swings and bangs shut with a heavy thud. The Fatui guard standing on duty, Nadia, sends the two of you a slow look from the corner of her masked eye, making your cheeks grow hot. As if you really needed an audience for this. 

“Aw, don’t say that.” He wheedles you with the added bonus of a frustratingly effective puppy dog pout to really drive the nail home. “At least come in for some coffee and pyshka. I’ll ask them to make it fresh for you, so - -“

“No.” You cut across him with enough vehemence that it earns you another surprised look, those depthless ocean blue eyes widening slightly. Good. Maybe he would finally start to take you seriously now. “I do apologize, xiansheng, but I am tired and I would like to go home and rest. I’m sure your countrymen will be more than happy to entertain you for the rest of the evening, so you shouldn’t be without ample diversion in my absence.” 

He silently regards you for a long beat, the vibrant orange and red cast of the sun washing over him to set his hair aflame, glowing like a hot, smoldering ember. Somehow that same light doesn’t seem to even touch the void in his irises, though, and a faint chill races up your spine with that realization. You’d never seen anything quite like it before. 

But then his smile slips back into place and his posture relaxes — so disconcerted by his strange eyes, you hadn’t even noticed the way he’d been holding himself, as if he were poised to strike — and you quickly take a subconscious step back. For better or for worse, Childe pretends not to notice, merely lifting a hand in farewell while the other comes to rest against his hip in a casual stance. He was completely at ease again. Just like that. 

“Goodnight, then. I hope you rest well. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Every single hair on your body instantly stands on end. There wasn’t going to be a tomorrow. Not with the way he was acting. “Xiansheng, I can’t - -“

“Don’t worry. I won’t ask you to be here first thing in the morning or anything like that.” He smoothly interrupts you, his expression still pleasant and amicable but somehow … sharper. You back up another step when he shuffles forward but your back hits the edge of the bannister and you freeze, knowing the top of the staircase was not the best place to try testing your luck like this. All you can do is watch as he comes closer and closer until you finally have to tip your head back to look up at him. “You’re welcome to sleep in if you want. I’d hate to put you out, and I’ll just come pick you up if it starts getting too late.” 

You swallow hard in an attempt to lubricate your suddenly bone dry throat. “I won’t tell you where I live.” It’s barely more than a whisper, but it still gets a chuckle out of him. 

“Perhaps not, but Krzysiek certainly will. Oh, don’t make that face, girlie. I already explained it to you, didn’t I? We Harbingers carry out the Tsarista’s will and our word is almost as good as hers. Krzysiek is just trying to cover his own ass by checking in with my colleague first, but if I’d really wanted to start throwing my weight around he would have given me that mora without a fuss. Don’t assume he would shoulder the same risks just to protect a citizen of Liyue.” 

He lifts his hand then, reaching out for you with a deliberate slowness, and you jerk back. Grabbing behind you for the bannister to steady yourself before you can topple head first down the stairs, you glare up at him with as much vitriol as you could muster. “Stop calling me that.” You hiss. It’s the only thing you can think to say. You believed him. 

There was no need to ask for proof or challenge that assertion, because you wholeheartedly believed he was telling you the simple truth of the matter. The director certainly wouldn’t stick his neck out on the line for you and you knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. If appeasing him meant throwing a Liyuean girl to the proverbial wolf then that was exactly what would happen. But that doesn’t make it any easier to accept how signed and dotted your fate actually was though. 

Unperturbed, Childe retracts his hand in favor of crossing his arms over his chest instead. “So it’s a date then? I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

You don’t even dignify that with a response. Giving him a quick, bitter look, you turn and start to make your way down the staircase, gripping the bannister so tight your fingers ache in protest. You couldn’t believe him! Couldn’t believe the director for putting you in this situation in the first place. But most of all, more than anything else, you couldn’t believe you’d ever thought he was charming. The pain you’d felt at his insistent teasing was well deserved for ever being such a fool but it wouldn’t happen again. You would continue to play tour guide for as long as you were expected to, for as long as you were forced to, but he wouldn’t be getting any more laughs at your expense. 

You promise yourself that as you hit the next landing, feeling his eyes linger on your back before you disappear down the attached corridor and out of view. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following morning you find Childe already sitting in the lobby of the bank, slouched in a chair and talking animatedly to a masked Fatuus standing next to him. You’d wanted to avoid inviting him onto your doorstep and, having no idea what he might choose to consider as ‘getting too late’, you’d set off from home at the same time you did every day. If he would’ve allowed you to treat it like any other, you would have gladly done just that. 

But as soon as he spots you coming through the door he’s up out of his seat and making a beeline straight towards you, that big, almost dopey smile already in place. You hold your ground though, offering the coppery redhead a look of pure and utter disinterest at his approach. He was not going to get under your skin today no matter what he did or said. If you were not effectively being held hostage against your will you wouldn’t have shown up at all, and you intended to make that very clear to him. 

“Good morning!” He greets you, bright and cheery, and decidedly puppy-like. “I hope you slept well. Would you like some coffee? Tea? Maybe some delicious syrniki to start your day?” 

You quirk a brow at him, a little surprised that there was nary a hint or even a sign of that imposing, dangerously uncanny side of him today, and he wasn’t offering up any apologies for it either. He was acting like nothing at all had happened when you’d last parted ways. Well. That wasn’t entirely true. He actually seemed to be … somehow even more overbearing than yesterday. You hadn’t thought it was actually possible, nor are you sure how he’s managed to find even more energy for today, but you refused to fall for it. The guy was nothing but trouble no matter how overly friendly he tried to be. 

“No, thank you.” Brushing him off, you try to move around him but he surprises you by stepping in the way to block your path. With a huff, you cross your arms and pin him with an unamused frown. “What do you want?” 

“Aww, come on. You wound me, girlie. I thought we were getting along just fine yesterday so what’s with the cold shoulder all of a sudden?” He asks, putting an emphatic hand over his heart as if his feelings were really hurt, and your hackles start to rise. 

“How many times do I have to tell you - -“

“My, my, what’s all this?” The director suddenly cuts in, appearing beside you as if he’d dissolved out of the very shadows themselves. You jump in surprise but a quick look at his pale, vaguely harassed expression tells you he’s likely been faring no better with Childe than you had. Served him right, as far as you were concerned. 

“Good morning, xiansheng Krzysiek. I was just about to go get started on that project you gave me since I didn’t have a chance to - -“

“Nonsense!” He cuts across you so forcefully it makes you snap your mouth shut with an audible click. “Of course that can wait. What’s the rush? I’m sure you’d have a much better time showing my esteemed lord around the city, no?” 

Your stomach lurches and you fix him with a vitriolic glare but he just narrows his eyes and returns the look twofold. It seemed neither one of you wanted to be responsible for Childe today and the resulting stare down between you and your boss is a statically charged one. You’d been hoping to bide some time for yourself so you wouldn’t have to spend the entire day with him, dammit.

“Well, if you ask my opinion,” Childe offers, making you bring your attention back around to him. “I think we should go get breakfast since you don’t want any of our delicious, homemade syrniki and then do a bit more sightseeing. We had a lot of fun yesterday, and there are still a few more places I’d like to go.” 

‘Fun’ was the very last thing you’d call it. In fact, there were an infinite number of things you would rather be doing besides spending more time in his presence, and throwing yourself into the ocean was right at the top of that list. But, seeing that there was no point in arguing when you were effectively trapped, you relent. “Fine. We can grab something to eat first, and then I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” 

“Excellent!” The director barks, clapping you on the shoulder a little too hard, and you turn your head to glare daggers at him. Taking the hint, he quickly composes himself with a discreet, appropriately apologetic grumble. “I do hope you two have an enjoyable time together, my lord, and please let me know if there is anything at all you need.” 

Pivoting on his heel, Childe abruptly steps right into the older man to get in his space. “What I need is for you to stop wasting my time, Krzysiek.” He murmurs, that easy, unbothered smile playing at his mouth doing absolutely nothing to distract from the hard edge in his eyes. Growing nervous now, you take a self conscious step back to put some distance between you and them. “But since that obviously isn’t going to happen, I think we’ll be off. Ready, my little pieróg?”

The director suddenly chokes and sputters, shooting a disbelieving look from one to the other even as you suspiciously narrow your eyes at Childe. Something told you you liked this new nickname even less than ‘girlie’. “Now what are you calling me?” 

“Oh, nothing,” he teases, his demeanor flipping just like that as he reaches out to take hold of your arm even when you valiantly try to snatch it out of his reach. “That, as they say, is for me to know and for you to find out. You’ll have to earn it if you want me to tell you though!” 

And with that, the two of you are off. 

Breakfast at a little stall tucked down a narrow side street turns out to be surprisingly pleasant. Shockingly, even. You admittedly feel a great deal of relief when Childe manages to keep his hands to himself for the rest of the morning and he even seems to have given up on the previous day's inquisition all together. He neither says anything out of place nor does he undergo another of those disconcerting shifts in his behavior. Rather, he is consistent and charming again, as if that offputting display in front of the Northland Bank never even happened. Like it was merely a figment of your imagination and nothing more. 

You know better than that though, and you weren’t going to be persuaded by it. Luckily, keeping him entertained was a relatively easy task so you don’t even have to try very hard to keep things moving. After your meal, you take him to the theater hall to show him where the opera is hosted and even get a chance to introduce him to a few of the staff members who were setting up for a performance later in the evening. He does catch you off guard though when he suddenly asks about seeing the show together, not having expected him to have any such interest in the performing arts. But when you tell him it’s too late to purchase tickets when they were in such high demand he, strangely enough, accepts that answer without a fuss. 

You think it all very strange given how he’d acted yesterday — as if the world itself was his to lay claim to and everyone was expected to just go along with it — but you were certainly not in any position to complain. The more he cooperated the better your nerves would fare. 

From there, you take him to a ceramics shop, a bookstore, a calligraphy studio, a toy makers stall and even to a small perfumer after he’d mentioned having an older sister he might want to buy a souvenir for. He truly seems like a completely different person today, politely listening to what you tell him about this or that, attentively focused and tuned in. You’re ashamed to say it almost makes your resolve falter but you hold firm. After that, a lacquer studio, various boutiques and seamstress shops, a few antique stores that quickly prove much too dusty and boring for his liking. You stop for lunch at Third Round Knockout, enjoy some fine food and entertainment together, and then it’s back to the streets. At his request, you take him down to the docks and show him around the markets there, only to realize somewhere along the line that he must have some kind of background in fishing. The way he talks about it, fond yet distant, like an old hobby he might like to revisit some day, strikes an odd little chord inside you. You hadn’t expected him to have room for sentimentality when he was so busy bouncing around from one extreme to the next. 

The day wears on in this fashion until you at last take him up to the Yujing Terrace gardens, having saved (what was in your humble opinion) the best for last. Childe appears to appreciate the scenery well enough, oohing and aahing at appropriate intervals as you show him through the public grounds, but you can tell he found the docks much more exciting. Hardly any wonder there. A hot blooded young man such as himself rarely had any need for flowers or ornamental fountains, decorative lanterns or the architecture laid throughout. You got the sense he didn’t dislike the pavilion, exactly, but rather he just wasn’t as invested in it as he might be in other things … and yet he was still trying to stay engaged and interested. Truthfully, you found this more than just a little odd. You’d taken him for an entitled brat, and with good reason. 

But the whole situation was strange once you got right down to the heart of it, and you’re understandably glad to finally start making your way back towards the bank shortly after dusk has settled over the gardens and the lamps have been lit. Unlike the previous day where you’d had to all but force him to return before full dark, he acquiesces without a fuss or even any attempt to weasel another half hour out of you. Even putting his penchant for cruel tricks aside, it was almost like you’d spent the whole day with a completely different person than the one you’d first met and this was somehow the most confounding detail of all. At some point you’d started to think he was planning something insidious, just waiting for the right moment to spring the trap, so you had truly expected him to put up more of a fight about it. 

So lost in thought, you don’t realize he’s speaking until he shifts close enough to amicably bump your hip with his narrow thigh. Giving a start, you turn your head up only to find a suspiciously eager smile tugging at his rouge’s mouth and you think, this is it. He’s finally going to say something cute or shocking after all this time and, feeling vindicated, you brace yourself for another taste of his nonsense. You’d known he enjoyed provocation too much to resist the temptation forever. 

“I was saying thank you for today. You make a pretty good tour guide, if you ask me.”

You stumble a step, feeling like the ground itself is opening up underneath you to swallow you whole. That hadn’t been what you’d expected him to say at all. “You’re welcome,” you respond slowly, mouth tugging into a frown. “But there really isn’t any reason to thank me. I was just fulfilling my duties, that’s all.” 

“Aww, don’t say that. You did a great job despite all the trouble I’ve given you so I’d say credit is due. No need to be shy.” 

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you quickly look away. “I am not being shy, xiansheng. I just have no need for your praise.” 

“Oho. Is that so, girlie?” 

You suck in a sharp breath, prickling at that insufferable name he insisted on calling you every time you turned around, but you don’t get the chance to snap at him. Before you can utter so much as a word, his hand is suddenly on your wrist and he’s pulling you away from the main, bustling street into a cramped little alley. Your heart stutters a beat but you can’t quite seem to dig your heels into the ground when his forward momentum seemed to be in full swing, so you just inelegantly trip after him with a tiny squawk of protest. 

Finally stopping towards the far end of the path, Childe turns to grin down at you. Issuing an incensed huff into the still air, you give your arm a quick jerk to try and free yourself of his hold but it’s no good. He refused to budge, and you have no choice but to give up, pinning him with a look of pure exasperation. 

“What are you doing now, xiansheng? This isn’t the way to the bank.” 

“I know, I know. I just wanted to properly show how grateful I really am to my cute little tour guide. You just said you’re not shy, didn’t you?” 

Catching on that he was up to something — for real this time — you once again try to extricate your arm from him. Gingerly, this time. “I’m afraid I don’t know what that has to do with this. I think we should go back to the bank and - -“

He suddenly swoops down and silences you with a hard kiss. You jolt, gasping when his fingers tighten around your wrist to make it clear that there would be no escape until he decided to let you go. That hardly seemed the most pressing issue right now, though. Stock still, you just stand there and try to make sense of what’s happening. The sensation of his mouth against yours, his warm breath mingling with your own and the vaguely citrusy scent of him assaulting you all at once. It was just as overwhelming as the rest of him and you can’t figure out how to react. Finally, eventually, he pulls back to peer at you through the gloom of night, far from the dull glow of the distant streetlights. 

“I know you’ve thought about this. You’re so cute, the way I catch you looking at my - -“

Your free hand flies up, hitting him across the mouth as hard as you can. The gruff sound that bursts out of him is surprised, but not half as hurt as you would have liked it to be. 

“How dare you.” Your voice is a barely there, faltering hiss in the relative quiet with only the distant sounds of city life to act as a backdrop. “I’ve thought of no such thing, and you’ve got a lot of nerve trying to force yourself on me like that!” 

The look that briefly flashes across his face seems almost impressed, if not a little cowed by your reaction, and for a split second you’re sure he’s going to rise to the challenge you’ve presented. But then it’s gone just as quickly as it had appeared, replaced once again by that overly confident smile. “Oh, come on. You don’t mean that. I can see how you look at me. I’m not blind, you know.”

“I’m allowed to look at someone without wanting to kiss them!” You insist, vehemently shoving at his chest. 

To your great surprise, he actually lets you push him back a step and he releases your arm in the process. You quickly take that chance to back up towards the waiting lip of the alley but he follows you with his eyes, a predator tracking its prey, and you hesitate to make a run for it. One quick look at his long legs assures you he could outpace you all too easily. You’d never make it far against someone like him and the eager gleam dancing in those strange, strange eyes discourages you from trying. That didn’t mean you had to quietly stand there while he played his stupid little games though, and all at once the dam suddenly gives way. 

“I've had enough!” You shout at him. “I refuse to entertain you at the cost of my own dignity any longer, xiansheng! You have done nothing but harass me the entire time I’ve known you and I am done! I’m sorry, but you’ll need to find a new guide for the rest of your stay in Liyue because I refuse to do it even a moment longer.” 

“But I want you.” He shoots right back, surprisingly calm and collected given the intense state of your own emotions which only spiral further out of control at his response. 

The true meaning behind those words was obvious, and you feel the stab of it in startling high definition. Fighting back the sting of tears when a humiliated flush rushes into your cheeks, you glare at him with as much hate and vitriol as you can possibly muster. “I will not fall for it no matter what you say, xiansheng! I’m not stupid! You can have your fun teasing someone else for all I care, but I will not humor it anymore!” 

His eyes widen, brows shooting up in surprise. “Wait - -“ 

You have no interest in hearing what he has to say, quickly turning on your heel so you can march down the alley and out onto the main street again. Consequences be damned. 

Predictably, the shuffle of his boots picks up behind you and it doesn’t take long for him to catch up. The way he can easily keep pace with your hurried strides without even having to try only further annoys you but you pointedly ignore him, keeping your attention locked straight ahead. Maybe he would take the hint and leave you alone if you just pretended like he wasn’t there. 

“Hey, let’s talk, girlie. You don’t really think I was just joking around back there, do you?” When you refuse to dignify that with a response, he breathes out a quiet sigh. “Look, I’m sure I can convince you I’m being sincere if you just give me a chance, but why would you assume something like that to begin with? I haven’t given you any reason not to trust me, have I?” 

You shoot him a quick, flustered look of warning, and, to your horror, he responds with that charming, roguish smile that speaks of confidence and ego. It was clear he thought he could persuade you to his side with enough time and you weren’t so sure he was wrong about that. 

Whipping your attention back around, you desperately scan your surroundings in an attempt to get your bearings straight. You weren’t far from the Northland Bank now. Thank the archons. If you could just make it to the relative safety of its doors, you could dump him off on someone else for the night and beat a hasty retreat with your tail tucked between your legs. It certainly felt like you deserved that much after enduring all this grief from him.  

“It doesn’t matter.” You murmur, more to yourself than to him, but that doesn’t stop Childe from pouncing at the chance to keep going. 

“Sure it does. I think I deserve to know why my cute tour guide feels this way. Is there someone I need to take care of for you?” 

Finally spotting the stairwell that leads up to the bank, you hurry towards it as fast as your legs can carry you. He doggedly keeps at your heels, looming just over your shoulder the whole time, which does absolutely nothing to lessen the fast pumping adrenaline coursing through your system. 

It feels like your heart is lodged somewhere in your throat when you finally reach the foot of the stairs a moment later and, gripping the bannister with a clammy hand, you pause to look back at him. “There’s not. You can stop following me now.”

“We’re headed to the same place, I’m afraid.” He responds easily enough, still smiling that infuriating grin at you. Stamping down the urge to scream at the top of your lungs, you turn to make your way up and the procession of his footsteps trailing behind you quickly follows suit. “Seriously, I don’t mean to pry but - -“

“Yes, you do.” 

He laughs, but just keeps going anyway. “I want to know why you’d be so quick to write me off like that, that’s all. Am I not allowed to want you in my bed or something?” 

You outright choke at that, practically collapsing right then and there on the stairwell, and he positively whoops it up as if you’d just delivered the most hilarious, knee-slapping joke he’s ever heard. Your face feels like it’s on fire now while you wrestle with the urge to slap him again, thinking he more than deserved it, but you didn’t want to tempt fate like that again if you could help it. Or invite any misunderstandings with the Snezhnayan guard on duty, just another flight up and almost directly above you now. It takes every ounce of strength you possess but, at last, you finally manage to hiss over your shoulder, “Maybe I’m just not interested. Did you even consider that?” 

“Ah, ah, that’s not what you said though. If memory serves, I do believe the exact words you used were ‘I won’t fall for it no matter what you say’. You don’t think I was being serious, do you?” 

Teeth clenched, you turn to look back at him again and you’re not at all surprised to find him still grinning like he was having the time of his life. But once again, and just like every other time, his eyes give him away. It seemed that no matter what he did, they would always show an intimate glimpse into his soul and what you see in them now chills you a great deal. There’s an edge to them, a sharpness lurking just beneath the surface like a blade that has been submerged in a tumultuous ocean current. It was no less sharp for all the salt water buffeting against it though. In fact, you got the sense that it would only add to the sting of the wound once it finally cut you — and it would. Eventually. You harbored no doubts about that. 

Evidently seeing your uncertain hesitancy, Childe softens his expression slightly, as much as he was able to, at least, and moves up to stand on the same step as you. Fingers tightening on the bannister, you lean as far back as you can when he bends close to put his nose inches from yours. You’re sure he’s going to kiss you again, and the thought alone is enough to make your cheeks burn red hot in what you try to tell yourself is indignation. But, to your surprise, he merely studies you up close for a long moment before finally putting his head to one side like an inquisitive dog. 

“Let’s continue this discussion inside.” 

“What is there to even talk about?” You grit out. 

“You,” he says it softly, almost like a prayer. “And me.” 

“This isn’t up for debate, xiansheng. I want nothing more to do with you.” 

The corner of his mouth tugs, inching up into a decidedly mischievous smirk. “You say that, but do you really want Nadia to get the wrong idea? I’m sure she can hear us, you know. It’ll look much better if you come inside with me instead of causing a scene out here on the stairs. I don’t know what she might tell Krzysiek but if you cooperate, I can protect you.” 

“Blackmailing is illegal in Liyue …” 

“As it is in Snezhnaya. But the Fatui operate on a somewhat different rule set, and I’d hate to see you get tangled up in this more than you already are. There’s nothing I can do for you if you don’t meet me in the middle, girlie. Let me help you.” 

You search his face for any sign of deceit or falsehoods, desperately looking for even a hint of insincerity that would give you the push you needed to shove him away again. But he is, frustratingly enough, perfectly sincere. Or so he seems to be. And that was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it? In the short time you had known him, he’d consistently maintained that same perfect mask of earnest candor no matter what nonsense came out of his mouth … he was either a very good actor who could put most professionals to shame or he really believed what he was saying. Perhaps even a frustrating combination of the two? 

Either way, you could see that you were once again stuck between a rock and a hard place with him. You were damned if you did and damned if you didn’t. It’s been like this since the very start. 

“Fine.” You relent with a heavy, long suffering sigh. “I will go inside with you but I really don’t care what you have to say, xiansheng. You’ll just be wasting your breath.” 

Evidently that doesn’t bother him one little bit. He’s much too giddy for your liking as he bounds ahead of you, taking the last handful of stairs two at a time so he can reach the landing first. You realize why when, upon coming up after him, you find Childe waiting at the front entrance of the bank with his fingers already wrapped around the door handle, ready to pull it open for you and grant you entry. Same as the night before.  

Surreptitiously glancing at the Snezhnayan woman standing on nighttime guard duty, you’re relieved to find her pretending not to even see either of you standing there. Although she certainly was not on your side in the strictest sense, you still appreciated her discretion. Perhaps if you survived this ordeal, you would treat her to lunch someday as thanks. 

Gathering your resolve before you have a chance to change your mind, you quickly shuffle across the landing, hoping to get inside before he says something incriminating in front of her. The Harbinger looks quite pleased with himself as he pulls the door open and lets you pass through first before following right on your heels. You’re immensely glad to find the lobby all but deserted save the one on duty teller and the older man quietly talking to her about something you can’t quite make out from the entryway. No sign of Krzysiek lurking about in the shadows or any Fatui operatives loitering around. At least that would save you the embarrassment of having an audience to witness the no doubt awkward conversation that was sure to follow. Strangely, that didn’t make you feel any better about being forced to do this, though. 

Discreetly glancing up at the redhead as you make your way across the room together, you contemplatively regard him for a moment. Maybe you could still worm your way out of this situation if you appealed to his ego enough. It was worth a shot, at least. 

“Forgive me, xiansheng. I believe I misspoke earlier.” You murmur, hushed and quiet so that hopefully only he could hear. “I did not mean to insult you or imply that there was some deeper meaning in my rejection. I promise I meant nothing more.” 

“I don’t buy that for one second, girlie.” He says, thankfully matching your conspiratorial volume. “You really think I was just teasing you back there, right? You called it a game, if I remember correctly. Why would you go and think something like that about me, huh?” 

You chew at your bottom lip, weighing the odds. It didn’t exactly look good, no, but neither had the last thirty-six hours. If you gave in now and admitted the real reason for your distrust of his motivations you would simply be putting yourself on the chopping block, inviting further humiliation at his hand, and you weren’t so sure you were ready to admit your own shortcomings like that. But there was no denying his abilities of perception or his quick wit. If you tried to delicately skirt around the subject, would he just try to force your hand? 

So caught up in your own thoughts, debating between the truth or another attempt at deception, you don’t notice him slyly reaching for you until it’s too late. The weight of his hand abruptly squeezing around the plush of your waist nearly startles a squawk out of you, and you choke on it when he pulls you against him. Ignoring your incoherent blubbering, Childe tucks you into his side so he can pull you along even when your legs threaten to give out under you, turning you into deadweight against him. 

All at once you’re bombarded by a million, frantic thoughts as the scent of him envelopes you and drowns out your senses. What if someone were to see the two of you like this? What if they assumed you’d be willing to betray your homeland for this troublesome Snezhnayan man? And what if word of this got back to your mother? You’d be disowned by morning! 

But he pays no mind at all to the shy, flustered stammering going on under your breath as he steers you right past the front desk toward the stairs that are tucked off to the side. You feel faint with disbelief when the teller seems to pointedly keep her attention fixed on the man she’s speaking to and doesn’t even glance up at the spectacle when you pass. A heady rush of relief washes over you but, still, your erratic heartbeat won’t relax as long as you’re in such close proximity with Childe. No matter how good he smelled or how warm his body was, or how firm and invitingly masculine he felt against you, you just couldn’t make peace with it in your mind. 

You try to push away from him, politely at first and then more insistently, but he won’t let you go. Doesn’t even seem to register the weak struggle you’re putting up which leaves you with no choice but to stumble along beside him up the staircase and then down the curved hall. It was either that or risk having him physically drag you. 

“X - xiansheng!” You hiss at him, of course to no avail. 

“Hush. If you’d just tell me what the problem is, I could fix it for you.” He tells you lightly, giving your waist what you think is supposed to be a reassuring pinch. “I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to put your pretty little head at ease, you can count on that.” 

“You could start by knocking that off!” You give him another shove that goes completely unheeded. On one hand you were glad to be away from any potentially prying eyes now that you were up on the second floor, but on the other … you give a frightened jerk when it suddenly occurs to you that he’s leading you right past the row of smaller managerial offices (including your own) and further down the hall. “Wait — where are we going?” 

“Don’t try to change the subject.” He snickers softly. “We’re just gonna’ have a little chat in my office, that’s all. We’ll get to the bottom of this, don’t you worry!”

As if that was your main concern right now! “B - but that’s not your office, xiansheng! That room is for the - -“

“Yes, it belongs to Regrator. I’m well aware, of course, but I’m sure he won’t mind. It’s not like he’s using it right now, is he?” Pulling you up to the door in question, he reaches for the knob. All you can do is watch on in horror as he gives it a twist and the resounding click of the inner mechanism giving way echoes inside the space between your ears. You almost couldn’t believe it. Both his unrepentant audacity and the fact he’d already gained access to the owner's personal office space. 

“But how - -“

“Come on, girlie. Where do you think I slept last night?” 

You’re so dumbfounded by that information you momentarily forget to protest or fight him, and you stumble through the doorway under the ever present guidance of his hand around your middle without even fully realizing it. Only when the door creaks shut behind you do you comprehend the severity of the situation, going ramrod stiff as you dig your heels into the floorboards, but he merely pushes you further in before you can kick up a fight about it. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, you wrench away from him and spin around to find Childe already turning the lock on the door with a resounding clink of metal sliding into place. The way he smiles at you, all bright and cheerful, and innocent, turns your veins to ice. 

“Now fess up. I’ve let you stall long enough, haven’t I?” He takes a step towards you, hands coming up as if to grab hold of you again, and yours fly up to defend yourself. It’s as if he expected as much though, or maybe his reflexes were really just that quick, because he switches gears faster than you can blink. Lacing his fingers through yours before you can properly react, he pulls your arms out to either side and backs you up even further into the room. “Tell me why you think I’m only teasing you. I made sure no one would eavesdrop on us so tell the truth.” 

You jolt when your back hits the stately, imposing desk in the office, a fresh surge of fear racing through you with all the thoughts of what he could do to you like this. But to your immense relief he simply pivots to the side, half turning you to stand in front of it rather than pin you against it like you’d initially thought he would. Still, he won’t let go of your hands where he’s holding them out away from your body and you were clearly trapped in here with him and no way out. Dammit. 

Drawing a slow, stuttering breath to calm your nerves, you decide you’ll just have to be blunt with him. Even if it means humiliating yourself in the process, you couldn’t see any other way out of this. Clearly he wasn’t going to let you slink away with your tail tucked between your legs or let you preserve any of your dignity. Not that it came as a surprise considering who you were dealing with but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

“I’m sorry, xiansheng. I just … I know I can’t possibly be to your liking. That is what I meant by not falling for your tricks.” 

“Who said that?” He growls, drawing a quiet whimper out of you. 

“It doesn’t need to be said.” 

“Bullshit. Tell me why it’s so impossible for me to want you.” 

“Because I’m fat.” You say it plainly and without inflection, but softer than a whisper, and his eyes go big in surprise. 

“What’s wrong with that?” 

You hate the way your chest tightens, flushing hot in humiliation. You hadn’t expected the sting to your ego to hurt quite so bad when you knew you were merely stating the truth. Maybe it’s the simple act of saying it out loud that drives the nail home or perhaps it’s the way he’s looking at you as if he couldn’t possibly conceive the issue with it, but the backs of your eyes start to burn all the same. Looking at him like this, in the gloom of the dark office, you start to wonder if it’s so painful precisely because you secretly wanted his interest in you to be real, not feigned. Was there really no greater anguish than having a strong, handsome man flirt with you while knowing you weren’t deserving of any of it? You certainly couldn’t think of anything worse. 

“What’s wrong with it is - is men like you don’t like that. I’m not stupid, xiansheng. There are plenty of women who …” You give your head a shake. “It doesn’t matter. You could do much better than me, and I know that just as well as you do.” 

He relaxes his broad shoulders, chuckling faintly as he pins you with a rueful if not taunting look. “Men like me, huh?”

“T - there’s no reason to deny it.”

“Oh?” Childe’s smile sharpens, showing a brief glimpse of the dangers lurking just beneath the surface. “And what else do you know of men like me? Hm?” 

You whimper softly and he gives your hands a quick squeeze before releasing them in favor of reaching tentatively for your waist again. You simply let him do it this time; half in defeat and just wanting to get this over with, and half under the assumption that he would finally drop the act and recoil in disgust at the soft give under his palms. But that’s not quite what happens. 

On the contrary, he actually looks rather pleased as his large hands comfortably settle around your middle like they belonged there. Possessive, almost. 

“I don’t know who made you believe such nonsense but I’ll happily take a list of names though, if you find the time to jot them down for me. But I’m afraid we don’t all think the same way, cutie. I’ve been daydreaming about having you under me since we met.” 

You suck in a sharp breath, still somehow shocked by the outrageous things that come out of his mouth even now. “But you could have anyone.” It’s little more than a whisper. 

“And like I said, I want you.” 

Swallowing hard, you lift your hands to lightly rest them on his forearms. You can’t decide if you want to push him away or pull him in closer, so you just leave them sitting there for right now. “I don’t understand why though.” 

“I could show you.” 

You don’t know what to say to that. Aren’t even sure if you could respond to it without choking on whatever you may have said, because he was brash and provocative, and more than just a little combative, and you weren’t used to dealing with someone like him. What could you possibly say that wouldn’t make you sound like a stammering ninny?

But he evidently takes your continued silence as his cue to proceed, and he slowly palms his way up your sides until blunt thumbs brush the underside of your breasts. A shudder races down your spine at that much too brief contact and you whimper again, louder this time, when he adjusts his hands to cradle your chest in them. His attention remains locked on your face though, intently observing the way your mouth warbles open as if to let out a tiny, faltering mewl but you stubbornly bite it back. Turning your head so you don’t have to look at him any longer, you raise a hand to cover your mouth when he pushes up, lifting your tits slightly, so he can feel the full brunt of them resting in the curve of his fingers. 

You’re ashamed to realize it felt nice having him paw at you like this, your nipples growing stiff and pointed against the brush of his hands. It makes your stomach curl itself into a tight, pulsing knot that has your knees going weak. Grudgingly, you think it might be okay to let this go on for a little while longer. Hesitantly, you have to accept that perhaps you liked him a bit more than you were willing to admit or let on. 

That mental shift must reflect in your expression though because he suddenly grins at you, all mischief and trouble. 

“These are my favorite.” He tells you softly, almost like he was sharing a precious secret with you. Giving your breasts another slow, kneading squeeze to make you sway slightly on your feet, he bends closer until just a scant few inches remain between you and him. “The bigger the better, don’t you think? What else is a man supposed to rest his head on at night? What else should we suck and lick, and bite on until your milk floods our mouths, hm? You seem to know an awful lot about men, so tell me … what would you have us do if not worship the very fertility you represent?” 

Dragging his hands higher, he lets your breasts bounce back into place under your shirt and he watches with a great deal of interest etched across his face. You have to force your lungs to expand, inhaling painfully slow to try and steady yourself. A very real part of you was still anticipating the pin to fall, for him to realize this game of chicken wasn’t worth it and to finally drop the farce, but that wasn’t happening. You were suddenly finding yourself faced with the very real possibility that he wasn’t just running his mouth with no intention of backing it up. He really did want you. He thought you were attractive — innately drawn to your figure, not put off by it. 

And he would have you, right here and now, if you just gave him the chance. 

Childe reaches for the button on your collar with clear, deliberate intent, giving you ample time to rethink this and tell him to stop. But you let him work the first one loose and then the next, and the next, so on and so forth until your shirt was hanging open down to the waistband of your skirt. He grabs at your middle to ruck it up and possessively pinch at your love handles underneath before finally grabbing onto the hem to untuck it the rest of the way. You’re a little surprised at yourself when you lift your arms to help him get it off, but you start to have second thoughts when the cool air hits the front of your silk chemise. 

Feeling uncertain and exposed, you cross your arms over your chest to hide your stiff nipples from his line of sight. He tsk’s softly as he tosses your shirt somewhere on the desk before taking hold of your wrists, gentle yet firm as he moves them out of the way. You can’t quite bring yourself to look him in the face though, self conscious and afraid of what you might see there, so you glance down at yourself instead. The weight of your breasts under the thin, breezy material is obvious, as are the stiff points sticking out in the center of them. You may as well have not even been wearing anything at all. 

With a quiet sound, he seems to reach the same conclusion. He releases your hands so he can slip his fingers underneath the thin shoulder straps and lift that over your head too. You have a split second of thinking you’ll back out after all, that you’re not prepared to have someone as tall and handsome as him looking at your naked body, but the roiling heat deep in your gut seems to have a differing opinion. The thought of walking away from this and going home to an empty bed brings with it a great deal of distress, so you slowly repeat the same arms up motion as before. 

Childe lets out a breath you hadn’t realized he’d been holding as the silk slips away and your naked breasts are finally bared to him. That gets tossed on the desk too and then his hands are on you again, groping and squeezing at you appreciatively with renewed excitement. “These are gorgeous.” He breathes. 

“Y - you don’t mean that.” You whimper, desperately glancing around the dark room for something to focus on that isn’t him. 

“I do.” He insists, and his lips are suddenly on the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at the vulnerable skin there between hot, rushed sentiments. “I really do. You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” 

You feel well and truly lightheaded when he once again palms your breasts in his hands, lifting their weight the same as before. But this time he allows his thumbs to brush up, and you outright gasp at the first contact to your nipples. The noise he makes in response sounds suspiciously like a growl and it reverberates in your veins, making you shudder against him. He takes his time casually flicking over the stiffened buds for a moment longer before pressing your tits together and leaning back to admire the meaty squish. Abruptly, he lets go and watches the heavy bounce of them before setting his sights on your waist instead. 

“Archons, you’re perfect.” He groans, digging his fingers deep into the cushiony give around your middle. “I want to fold you in half on top of that desk, you know that? How’s that sound? Huh?” 

Your mouth warbles open, cheeks burning up. “Xi - xiansheng - -!”

He stoops down to press his face against your neck, growling again, a little louder this time, and you jolt when he blindly fumbles to grab one of your wrists. With a bit more force than was probably necessary, he drags your fingers to the front of his pants and manually curls them around the weighty bulge there. Your eyes widen in stark surprise, not at the size of him but, rather, at how very hard he is for you. He’s indescribably heavy against your hand, and stiff enough to strain the zipper holding him back. 

“You want this, cutie?” 

Like you really needed to think about it at this point. “I … I do. I want you, xiansheng.” 

Breathing deep the scent of your neck, he lets it out again with a bestial huff that makes goosebumps erupt across your skin. It takes a visible amount of effort for him to unlatch himself from you, reaching to unfasten the single button done up on his jacket. This he carelessly shrugs out of and tosses to the side, eyeing you with a hungry lick of his lips before stepping into you again to take hold of your waist. It doesn’t escape your notice that he seems to be fascinated with this part of you, the way he insists on continuously grabbing and squeezing it in his hands, but you don’t get a chance to comment on it. 

He’s pulling you against him then, all but flattening you against the hard line of his body, and you suck in a sharp, frazzled breath at the press of his cock against your stomach. Never before had you found yourself in this sort of position so you don’t really know what to do, standing there just breathing him in while he yanks at the hidden latch on your skirt. You think you should be doing something, should probably be reciprocating in some way, but your overloaded brain just can’t seem to make sense of it. 

Luckily, he takes care of the decision making for you. Once the band of your skirt is hanging loose around your waist, he lifts his hand to nudge it under your chin and tip your head back. You have but a split second to realize he’s going to kiss you, and then he’s devouring your mouth, kissing you much harder and much more forcefully than he had in the alley. You realize now, as you succumb to the hungry pull of his lips, that he’d only been testing the waters earlier. He was far from normal if that had been his idea of tentative and, evidently, you were just as crazy for entertaining it. 

Greedy hands roam down your body, grabbing tight, pinching handfuls of your sides and your hips before dipping lower still. Childe takes hold of your ass like a starved man grabbing onto a lifeline and you rock forward on your toes with a muffled little squeak. He gladly swallows it down even as he kneads and pinches, rolling the meat of your backside in his palms. It’s just shy of being too much, toeing the line of discomfort, and you blindly reach back to clutch at his powerful wrist. Of course that doesn’t stop him though, and you suck in a much needed lungful of air when he finally pulls back some moments later. 

He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch your breath, quickly swooping down to shimmy your skirt over your hips so you can step out of it. You expect him to go after your garters next so he can get you completely undressed, telling yourself to relax and just breathe while you could, but nothing is ever that simple when it comes to Childe. 

To your squawking surprise, he grabs you around the waist yet again and suddenly hauls you up to perch on the edge of the desk. You can’t even think straight as he bullies your thighs apart with his narrow hips so he can settle between them, pressing himself tight against you. Unable to hold it back any longer with the weight of his cock digging into you and the hard muscle mass of his chest right in your face, you reach up to loop your arms over his shoulders with a needy little mewl. Grunting in approval, he bends at the waist to hunch over you so he can take a nipping bite at your neck and then your ear while his arms snake around you. For as deceptively gangly as they are, the strength in them is staggering and he practically crushes you against him, firmly holding you in place so he can slowly grind up into your core. 

Delirious, you frantically clutch at him when every stilted push of his cock against your panties only seems to highlight how wet you already were for him. That in and of itself would have been inconceivable not even twenty minutes ago, but somehow even worse is how that sedate, repetitive motion of his hips just seems to encourage yet more sticky slick out of your cunt. You can feel it bleeding into your panties, leaving them increasingly damp, and you grimace when they soon start to stick to your labia. 

“Xi - xiansheng! Wait a second …” 

“How do you expect me to wait after all this time, girlie? Huh?” Snarling against your neck, Childe leans further into you and uses his weight to push you back, tipping your pussy towards him. You cling to his shoulders, whimpering and whining low in your throat as he increases the pace, humping into you with even greater enthusiasm than before. “Wanna’ know what’s funny?” He laughs, breathless and hot against the side of your face. “I actually expected you to tell me a completely different answer earlier. You really caught me off guard, you know?” 

Legs quivering around his hips, you dig your nails into his back and tip your head up, gasping at the ceiling. You felt dizzy and hot enough to burn. Was he really going to make you cum, just with this? “Like — ahhn! Like what?” 

Dragging his hands down to grip your plushy hips, Childe shifts against you to look in your face. His eyes were strange and unsettling even now when you felt like you were going to shake right off the desk if he kept digging his cock into you like that, but there was something else in them now … something far removed from the light of day but no less blinding. It was like looking at ice fire — so dark and blue, yet hotter than any normal flame could ever hope to burn. You weren’t sure if you were looking into a vast, bottomless trench under the sea or the very sky itself, so deep and fathomless it would swallow you whole without a trace, never to be seen again, but it doesn’t really seem to matter anymore. You would gladly give yourself over to the void, drown in its oceanic embrace, so long as he kept looking at you like that. 

“Tell me.” You gasp when he doesn’t immediately respond. 

“I thought you were going to tell me I was too young for you.” He suddenly says, surprising you so much you have to do a double take. 

“What?” 

Laughing, he gives his hips one last, lingering roll that has you biting down on your tongue to silence yourself as he unhurriedly moves to extricate himself from you. 

“All that fuss you were making, it was the only thing I could think of. I know you were worried about my title and I probably didn’t help that very much when we parted ways last night … but still, you refused to have me even after I went out of my way to show you I’m just a man. Albeit a supremely powerful one but,” Shrugging as if it didn’t really matter, Childe bends over your lap to start unhooking the clasps holding your stockings up. He’s surprisingly gentle and patient with such a benign task and you let him do it without intervention, even when your pussy clenches at the sight of him half naked and focused on the task of undressing you. “I figured you just didn’t think I was mature enough or something like that. Not that that wasn’t bad enough but I certainly didn’t expect your real reason.”

You start to say his name but catch yourself at the last second. “Xiansheng …” You say instead. “It’s true that I’m older than you but it’s not that big of a difference from my perspective. I don’t think you’re immature. Well, not in that way, at least.” 

“Oh, is that so?” Sending you a slow, mischievous little grin, he slips his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts to slowly slide them down over your thighs, leaving the garter and stockings in place. “Good to hear it. Because I’m prepared to show you just what I’m capable of, and I have no intention of leaving this room until you understand exactly what kind of man I am.” 

Eyes widening slightly, you watch him pull your underwear free from your ankles so he can carelessly toss them somewhere on the floor. Those big, battle hardened hands slide up your inner thighs and roughly shove them apart so he can swoop down, dragging the flat of his tongue through your wet cunt without so much as a word of warning. You jolt so hard you nearly come right up off the desk, a startled ‘oh!’ bursting out of your mouth. He pays it no mind though, keeping your legs spread wide as he devours you, swirling around your entrance to taste the excessive slick accumulated there before directing his mouth higher to knock against your clit. It’s all you can do not to shriek, chest heaving as you jerk and twist against him. 

“Wait —!” 

Coming up off your cunt with an obnoxiously loud slurp and a smack of his lips, Childe gives a breathless laugh. “There’s no time for that, girlie. Today you’re going to learn how a real man handles a woman like you.” 

With a low, hungry snarl, he dives back in and your hand instinctively shoots down to grab at his hair. He pays it no mind though — in fact, he actually appears to enjoy it. Groaning hotly against your pussy, he presses his cheek to one side so he can batter your clit with his tongue, making your toes tightly curl in their little heels. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before; intense and overwhelming, indescribably sticky and wet, and hot, and it doesn’t take long for you to start shaking in earnest. 

Unable to sit up any longer when the tremors threaten to overpower you, you slowly sink back to lay across the top of the desk but he just follows you down. Shuffling closer so he’s bent nearly in two over your cunt, Childe possessively grabs at your thighs so he can toss them over his shoulders and lock you in place. Having your legs up in the air like this is somehow both deeply embarrassing and indescribably arousing at the same time, and you writhe like some mindless beast while he eats you out. Your fingers in his hair start to cramp but you refuse to let him go when it felt like the only thing keeping you grounded to reality anymore. 

You quickly lose the fight though when he slides his hands up your thighs, over the pudge of your belly and higher still to grab your breasts. His long fingers dig in, squeezing them tight enough to hurt before redirecting his attention to your nipples. The way he pinches and rolls them has you arching hard enough to make the desk groan underneath you, legs clenching around his head in an attempt to block him out for even just a moment's reprieve. It’s a losing battle though. He’s as dauntless as ever, and he just keeps working you over with his mouth even when your thighs threaten to crush or suffocate him. 

Blindly, you claw at his wrists and forearms but it is much too late. The scale starts to tip and you feel yourself desperately clinging to the edge, scared of that free fall and what it would mean even as you give your hips one last, pitiful jerk. Just like that, the chord snaps and you plunge into the void, pussy clenching so tight over the course of your orgasm that it actually brings tears to your eyes. Your whole body seems to roil with it, wildly twitching as you choke back your moans until only quiet, gasping mewls manage to escape, but somehow it still isn’t enough. 

You’re not sure when or how it happened, but at some point you’d come to realize that Childe’s mouth on you was perhaps the greatest feeling in the world, and you desperately wanted more of it.  

“Please!” You hiss, blubbering faintly when he starts to untangle himself from you. 

“Well, well,” he taunts, clearly pleased with himself as he straightens up. “I’d say you rather enjoyed that, wouldn’t you? Who would have thought the prim and proper ambassador of the Northland Bank was so needy?” 

Groaning softly in the back of your throat, you cover your face with a still trembling hand and press your thighs together now that he’s not occupying the space between them. You didn’t know whether to beg for more of his attention or cry from embarrassment. Both options seemed perfectly reasonable in this situation, and you finally settle on some combination of the two. 

“I’ve never felt like this before, xiansheng. I'm sorry.” You let out a sound that is half sob, half groan. “My body is on fire but I — I still want you to keep touching me. I don’t really know what I’m doing but I want more. I need more of you.” 

Childe snickers softly, and the sound of him shuffling close again has your heart threatening to jackhammer straight out of your chest. “Aww. Well, when you put it so nicely …” 

His hands find your hips again, giving them a savory squeeze before dragging his palms lower to feel the give of your thighs under his fingers. One long digit slips into the band of a stocking and tugs on it, letting it snap back into place with a quiet smack. He can’t seem to stop pawing at you, kneading along the soft pudge of your inner thigh until broad knuckles brush against your cunt. You shudder at the sensation and lift your head to peer down at him, struggling to keep your voice in check when he presses two fingertips into the meat of your labia and spreads them apart. Sensitive tears sting your eyes as a fresh wave of humiliation crashes over you, threatening to drown you. To be looked at like this was not a feeling you were mentally prepared for but, carefully watching Childe’s face, you’re relieved to find that he doesn’t seem to dislike it. 

In fact, his expression actually pinches with a low, rumbling groan that makes your pussy excitedly clench. His eyes take on a distant, dreamy sort of look, and he bends down to give your cunt another savory lap of his tongue, making you twitch at the contact against your clit. Exhaling slowly, he rises up enough to crowd his finger in and slowly rubs the meaty little nub in faint, barely there circles. You seethe through your teeth, still overwrought so soon after your orgasm, but you quickly relax into it when pleasure rushes in to replace the sensitivity. 

“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmurs, drawing a quiet whimper out of you. “And so receptive, too. I wonder how sensitive it is on the inside …” 

You realize what he’s saying a moment too late, far too gone in the hazy, post-orgasmic bliss to function at your usual level, and you don’t get the chance to protest. The finger on your clit abandons it’s target in favor of a new one, slipping lower to find your entrance and — slide right in. He doesn’t even hesitate. Just a quick, sudden pressure on your interior and he’s inside of you right down to the knuckle and you wheeze, going ramrod stiff on top of the desk. 

“Shit, you’re tight.” 

“I … I’m sorry.” 

Childe sends you a quick look, his mouth already cocking into a smirk, but the expression on your face gives him pause. “What is there to be sorry about, girlie? It is not a bad thing to be tight, you know.” 

“Yes.” You agree, even though you don’t really know what it is you’re agreeing with. “It’s just … I’ve never done this before so I hope it’s not too much trouble.” 

A terse beat passes through the room, completely still and quiet save the hushed sound of bustling nightlife in the near distance. Then it seems to click, and he blinks up at you owlishly. 

“You’re a virgin?” 

“I'm sorry.” You say it again, because it’s the only thing you can think to say. 

A half choked, disbelieving laugh slips out of him and he straightens, looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. There’s a new understanding in his eyes now, as if everything suddenly made sense, and you quickly turn your head so you don’t have to see the way he’s sizing you up. You’d glimpsed that predatory hunger in him more than once in the short time you’d known him but had always written it off as a hunger for life and all it had to offer. Excitement and battle, and the driving urge to test his own strength. Now, though, that voracious appetite was not only centered entirely on you but it also seemed to solidify into something tangible. Something far more dangerous than anything you’d seen in him before. He wasn’t merely going to have you, take you, claim you. 

He was going to devour you. 

With a reverberating growl, Childe reaches out to palm at your lower belly and he gives it a tight, pinching squeeze. You whimper faintly in response but that only further encourages him. His opposite hand, the one between your legs, withdraws for but a moment before returning with two fingers this time, and they slide straight up into you with a wet little click. Your guts are so slippery and soft for him that there’s hardly any resistance at all even when your body instinctively tries to clamp down around the intrusion. You can feel the burn of the stretch in a far off, dreamy sort of way, but it does absolutely nothing to dissuade or discourage you. If anything, it almost seems to spur you on. 

He laughs again, low and raspy, when you stutteringly roll your hips and squirm for him, idly giving your stomach another savory pinch. “I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you this,” he says quietly, in such a soft register that you almost miss it over your own gasping breaths. “But I’m probably not the best candidate for someone’s first time. You sure you want to do this, girlie?” 

You think that’s a massive understatement. He was rough and excitable, easily carried away and impatient. Whatever he may have lacked in fine tuned precision was more than made up for in so much puppy-like enthusiasm that it bordered on being too much, and even now you couldn’t ignore how good just his fingers felt inside your pussy. You wanted him perhaps more than you’d ever wanted anything else in your life, and that wasn’t up for debate. But you hesitate to say it, whether for your pride or just the simple fact that you didn’t know how to say it. 

Faintly wheezing, you struggle to sit half upright so you can look at him, for once unconcerned with the heavy weight of your breasts or the crease along your tummy. You simply look at him, as a woman, and he looks at you as a man, primal and starved, practically chomping at the bit to sink his teeth into you. If he was the wolf then did that make you the lamb? 

“You said you would show me …” Hesitating, you quickly swallow down your nerves before they can get the better of you. “Show me how a man handles a woman like me. I’d like to see that, xiansheng.” 

The snarl that comes out of him is more animal than human, and the most frightening one you’ve heard yet. It sets your guts vibrating, heart hammering wildly in your chest with the instinctive urge to flee, to run, to hide — but you couldn’t have even if you’d wanted to. You were already trapped in his clutches, his fangs locked around your sensitive jugular, ready to tear through you and rip you open for him to feast upon. It flashes across his face, settles deep in those strange eyes. The bloodlust. The thrill of the hunt and the subsequent kill. He was the predator and you, his prize. 

You gladly give yourself over to it when he leans down to claim your mouth again, kissing you so hard and so voraciously it steals the air from your lungs. His hand stays busy between your legs, working your cunt open with those long, calloused fingers, while the other one roams over your body. Grabbing at your love handles, your tits, the small of your back where it’s arched up off the desk in silent supplication for more. More of him, more of the pleasure and the threadbare pain that comes with it. More of his fingers, more of his tongue. You wanted all of it, and you plaintively moan into his mouth when he reaches up to palm the back of your neck. Holding you in place like that, he increases the speed and the pressure between your shuddering thighs, and the incessant clicking increases with it. Already an ache was forming deep in your body and you could tell you were going to be sore for days to come but you revel in it, bask in the heightened pleasure of knowing you were his to lay claim to. 

You think you’re starting to get close to another orgasm when he abruptly pulls his fingers out with a wet little pop, and you tear your kissed-raw mouth from his to groan in disappointment. He doesn’t give you a chance to complain though, and you suddenly find yourself shoved down on your back as he crawls up onto the desk with you, pinning you under the sturdy weight of all that lean, hard muscle. Eyes widening slightly at having him over you like this, you reach up to clutch his shoulders hard enough to make the joints ache. Jostling you slightly while he positions himself, Childe issues a heady grunt into the scant space separating you from him and then you feel it. 

The nudge of his cock. The press of the glans against your slit, seeking out the warmth of your body even as he slips over sticky lips and folds. You gasp sharply, mouth hanging open in a silent scream when he finds your entrance, catches and starts to sink in. It was something completely different from the stretch of his fingers, something much more intense, and you give a small jerk against him as tears spring up in your eyes. He is firm and unbudgeable on top of you though, hissing in deeply felt pleasure when you take him. More and more of him, until your eyes start to roll back in your head. 

Twisting back against the desk, you sob up at the ceiling. It feels like you’re being crushed under him, your guts squishing and compressing against the weight of his cock bullying its way into you. He pauses, shifts slightly, and then his large hand is cupping the side of your face. The blunt of his thumb hooks under your jaw and he demandingly angles you towards him so he can kiss you again, muffling the frantic, whimpering moans you let out when he sinks the rest of the way inside. 

With his narrow hips pressed tight to the backs of your thighs, you’re really, truly trapped underneath him now. It’s so hot and heavy between you two that you can barely manage to squirm, weakly shaking and writhing underneath him instead of wildly bucking like you would like to do. You feel frantic and mindless, your neck lolling bonelessly in his hold while the room seems to spin around you at a frankly alarming speed. You’d never felt so full, stuffed to bursting, or drunk on fast pumping endorphins in all your life. 

“Archons above, you feel so damn good.” He rumbles against your cheek, voicing the very sentiment you were trying (and failing) to come to terms with in your own cotton stuffed mind. You weren’t sure if you would ever be able to fully recover from this. Not this intimate meeting of your flushed, sweaty bodies or Childe’s raucous entry into your life. 

Groaning, he starts to move. The stiff flex of his hips is slow at first, drawn out and savory, like he’s merely enjoying the wet heat of you squeezing around him, but it doesn’t last long. He begins picking up the pace in just a matter of moments, driving his pelvis against your harder, faster, until the embarrassingly loud squelch of your cunt sucking him in deep rings on a near endless loop. You lurch underneath him, clawing at his shoulders and back while he relentlessly carves out a space within you, drilling you into the desk with reckless abandon. The creak of the wood barely even registers though when you’re so swept up in the sensation, the mind numbing experience of being fucked senseless by the beast heaving above you. 

He seems almost feral now, and you can feel the ache within you growing with each plunging thrust of his cock as it drives into you again and again, reaching deep inside to knock something that has you seeing stars. It leaves you reeling, dizzy and overwhelmed, but there’s no stopping it now. Childe is like a man possessed and he eagerly ruts into you, losing himself in your pussy, and all you can do anymore is cling to him in high strung desperation. His hands are everywhere at the same time, a blur of pinching squeezes and kneading gropes, but he soon gives up on trying to press you somehow even closer to himself in favor of reaching higher to grip the opposite edge of the desk. He seems to use it as leverage to reinforce the power behind his thrusts, and he slams into you with enough force to nearly send you into a vertigo-inducing free fall. 

“Shit!” He grunts, fanning warm breath across your face as he seeks out your mouth again. “I don’t think I ever want to leave this pussy, you know that?” 

Tipping your head at him, you catch his lips in another searing kiss and he seems to sink further into you, defying all logic and reason when his body moulds so tightly to yours it’s hard to tell where one of you starts and the other begins. It’s like you’ve become one entity, one being — the wolf and his hard won prey joined together until you were one and the same. Sharing the same body, the same mind, and the same pleasure. His appetite only fed into yours and heightened it, and the reverse seemed to be true as well because he moans, low and faltering, when you lock your ankles around his waist to hold him against you. 

He surprises you then, his heaving motions stalling to an almost complete standstill while his tongue intertwines and dances with yours. Unhurriedly exploring your mouth, claiming it as his own, Childe starts to slow fuck you with a grinding roll of his hips. His cock is wedged so deep inside you it feels like he’s poking at your ribs, and you all but sob at the staggered, barely there thrusts that churn your insides and increase the pressure tenfold. It was like you were on the brink of implosion, shuddering so intensely that the desk heaves a sympathetic groanin response. 

And somewhere in the back of your mind you still manage to find the wherewithal to hope the two of you don’t accidentally break it. 

Gradually, he winds you higher and higher until you’re frantically gasping for air, practically hyperventilating even while he keeps kissing you and fucking you like he has all the time in the world to enjoy this. He just might, for all you know, and you didn’t doubt that he would make the time if he didn’t. So incorrigible, so demanding and entitled to your body … as if he thought you were made just for him and maybe you were. Maybe you’d been born just for this purpose and he, the hot headed man from Snezhnaya, was likewise meant to have you in this way. 

You whine low in your throat as the tremors threaten to overpower you and he finally breaks apart from the kiss to groan heavily into the statically charged air. The reverberation seems to bleed into you and trigger a chain reaction that has every nerve ending in your body lighting up one by one, in rapid succession. It floods your system in waves, working lower and lower until it finally hits that tight, aching coil deep in your gut and it instantly snaps. You cum with a shriek, shoving your face into the bend of his sweat dampened neck to smother the sound while you fitfully twist and jerk underneath him. Your pussy spasms, wildly milking his cock, and he moans in response with a faint tremble of his own sweaty, heaving frame. 

Muscles flexing, he rides you through it at that same, sedately steady pace until you at last start to come down from it, chest heaving uncontrollably as you try to catch your breath. You’re lost in it, soaring somewhere far outside your own body, high above the very city itself, but you’re still acutely aware of the way he seethes and grunts when he moves to push up. Lifting your head, you blearily watch him go up on his knees to kneel between your legs, cock glistening in the sparse light coming in through the window even as he takes it in hand. He strokes it, hard and fast, with his heavy lidded eyes alternating between your well used cunt and your face, panting heavily and groaning softly as his shoulders begin to shake. You can tell he must be reaching his limit by the growing strain in his voice, and it seems to finally hit its peak with a keening, borderline whiny whimper that goes straight to your pussy. 

You hadn’t expected him to sound like that, so needy and desperate, and you find it inexplicably arousing. Your body clenches with renewed excitement and you mewl, very quietly, when his hips give one last little jerk and white, creamy ropes shoot out of him to splatter across your stomach. It’s hot and sticky where it settles, and Childe outright snarls at the sight of his cum painting your skin. 

“Xiansheng - -“ 

He doesn’t stop long enough to hear you out or give himself any time to recover before he’s swooping down, hunching over your prone form so he can drag his tongue through the mess he’s made. You give a jolt of surprise, gasping in shock, but the slow look he sends you under the fall of his tousled hair assures you he was capable of much worse than this and he was not your average man no matter how you tried to rationalize it. 

The two of you take a moment to catch your breath, just looking at one another through the gloom and basking in the afterglow. He touches you with idle confidence, like he was already secure in his ownership of your body and didn’t even need to think about it anymore. Emboldened now, you allow yourself to touch him too, feeling across the definition of his chest and arms, his abdominals and hips. Just like before, his energy seems to be bottomless and it doesn’t take very long for his spent cock to start stirring again when your hands were on him like that. 

Shamefully enough, you have him two more times over the course of the long night — once against the side of the desk, standing up so he could grope you to his heart's content, and once on the ornate chaise lounge, tangled up in a mess of limbs — before finally succumbing to exhaustion in the early hours of the morning. Neither of you spoke of what would come next or what it all meant in the long run, but you didn’t really see the need to. 

There was only so much room for negotiations where fate was concerned, after all. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Pausing outside the bank to check that your hair was still in place, you make a valiant effort to smother the butterflies flitting about inside your chest. You were a little nervous, yes, but you try to remind yourself just how silly that actually was. Childe had not only seen you naked already (which was embarrassing enough) but he had also had you multiple times, in multiple positions. Surely you should have been beyond the point of being shy around him after all of that. 

Though that’s easier said than done, of course, and you can’t quite figure out how you’re supposed to behave now. Should you just pretend that nothing had even transpired between you and him? Should you proceed with confidence and surety that he did indeed want you? He’d made that abundantly clear last night so there wasn’t any reason to pretend you didn’t believe him anymore, and you’d likewise had to accept that you wanted him too. But were you allowed to act on it? Archons, they didn’t make manuals for this sort of thing. 

He’d helped you sneak out in the early pre dawn glow when everything was soft and hazy, and you’d recovered just enough to make the walk home. You’d insisted on it, citing that you needed to bathe, among other things, and he had of course tried to convince you to just stay with him before finally conceding defeat. He’d even offered to escort you but you hadn’t wanted to run the risk of being seen together in such a compromising position. Nadia was bad enough even though she’d politely looked the other way when the two of you had emerged from the bank, completely ignoring you both, but anyone else would have been pushing your luck. Or so it seemed, anyway. The situation was just way too strange for you to say with any certainty but you got the distinct feeling that not everyone would be so willing to look the other way on this. Whatever this was.  

Anxiously, you fiddle with the front of your dress to make sure there weren’t any creases or wrinkles in the fabric. This was so stupid. You had no business acting like a lovestruck teenager over someone like him. He would have outright laughed at you if he saw you right now, and that was to say absolutely nothing of the on duty guard sending you odd looks. You were just going to have to get this over with. 

Steeling your resolve, you push through the doors with your head held high, determined to maintain a confident appearance, but it quickly falls away when you find Childe standing in the lobby with the director and about ten other Fatui agents. Your heart immediately sinks. Had something happened? 

“Oh!” Childe notices you right away, and he perks up like an excitable dog. The stormy glower he’d been wearing fades as soon as he lays eyes on you, replaced by that big, boyish grin, and you stand up a little straighter when he shuffles toward you at an unhurried pace. You weren’t sure what was happening here but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was nothing good. “We were just discussing you, actually. Good timing.”

“Me?” You blurt out, disbelief coloring your voice. 

“Don’t sound so surprised, girlie. Of course it’s nothing bad. Come, stand over here with everyone.” 

You’re so dumbfounded that you don’t even have the presence of mind to act embarrassed about it when he casually slides his arm over your back, steering you towards the small congregation. You frantically search their faces for some kind of answer or clue but you can’t get a read on most of them thanks to their masks. The only one whose face was uncovered was the directors, and you have to do a startled double take at his pallid complexion. He looked like he’d aged ten years since you last saw him! 

“Don’t be nervous.” Childe says, giving you a playful nudge that makes you hope things were not as dire as they seemed. That quaint little notion is immediately quashed, however, when all the good humor drains from him upon turning his attention on the director. “Go on, Krzysiek. Tell her about the letter you received this morning.” 

The older man winces as if he’d been struck, his wild gaze darting from the Harbinger to you and then back again. “Ah. Yes. Yes, of course.” Forcing out a single brittle laugh, he lifts a trembling hand to wipe at his damp forehead. “Lord Regrator sent a very prompt response to my missive. Very prompt indeed. He made it quite clear that the original order had not been signed by mistake and he was well aware how much mora was in question. I’m afraid he isn’t, erm, very pleased with me at the moment but I am working very hard to rectify my mistake at the current time.” 

“And?” Childe prompts, the cold tone of his voice sending chills up your spine. 

“And I fear I owe you an apology,” the director shoots you a harried look. “It was remiss of me to put you in such a vulnerable position. It was not your responsibility nor your place to be in such close proximity with this … ah, particular situation. It was Fatui business and that’s how it should have stayed. Lord Regrator also made that quite clear to me in his letter” 

You have no idea what to say to that. Not that you didn’t agree, because you most certainly did. You’d tried to tell him all of this right after that initial meeting with Childe in the back office but he hadn’t listened, far too determined to foist the problem off on you rather than deal with it himself. But if he’d taken a moment to consider reason and rescind his decision then you wouldn’t have gotten to know Childe the way you now knew him. You wouldn’t have felt his warm hands all over your body or his searing kisses on your neck, and even for as much grief you’d endured because of it you couldn’t be mad at him for it. You were at first, and very much so, but not now. 

“It’s alright.” You finally murmur, turning to glance up at the redhead standing beside you. “Does this mean you’re leaving?” 

You hadn’t meant to sound so sad about that — for all intents and purposes you probably should have been jumping for joy — but his expression softens in as much as it ever does, and he smiles at you again. “For a little while, but I’ll be back. Liyue is a beautiful country and there are plenty more sights to see, people to fight, and things I’d like to do. You haven’t seen the last of me just yet. But in the meantime, Krzysiek here is going to make sure you’re well taken care of for all the trouble we’ve caused you.” 

Your brows shoot straight up to your hairline. What in the world was he talking about? “I’m afraid I don’t understand, xiansheng.”

“Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head. Just think of it like … reimbursement for all your hard work. We had a chat about it and agreed you deserve at least that much.” 

“But — but I can’t possibly - -“ 

“Sure you can!” He cuts across you, as boisterous and pushy as ever. Turning to face you now, he pins you with a mischievous if not challenging look that threatens to turn your knees weak. “You won’t have to work at the bank anymore if you don’t want to. You’re free to quit at any time, and I already made sure there won’t be any retaliation against you if that’s what you choose. You’ll still get your compensation for the rest of your life regardless, so, really, you’re free to make whatever decision you want.” He pauses then, seems to think about it and then quietly adds, “Well, I guess that would be for the rest of Krzysiek’s life, wouldn’t it?” 

The man in question chokes, sounding like he was right on the brink of some massive mental breakdown, but you pay him no mind. You just stare at Childe like he’s grown a second head, trying to make sense of it all. Reimbursement? For life? Did he truly think you wanted or were at all concerned about something like that? 

“Is this really your way of saying goodbye?” 

“Aw, don’t look at me with such a sad face, girlie. I already told you I’d come back, didn’t I?” Gently, he places his hand on your shoulder and you let him guide you away from the gathered Fatui who watch on like silent sentries. You were glad for his foresight in moving you away from them because with each passing moment it was becoming increasingly harder to keep your emotions in check. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream at him or cry. Of course you’d known he’d be leaving soon but so suddenly? And like this? 

You couldn’t think of anything worse to cap off this whirlwind experience. 

Softly shushing you, Childe pulls you towards the far wall and then moves to stand in front of you so he’s blocking the others and all you can see is him. You try very hard to keep the tears at bay, uncertain if they were angry or sad, but they still well up in your eyes and it makes your bottom lip warble. It was perhaps the most humiliating experience yet but he only clicks his tongue, reaching up to cup your cheek. 

“Stop that.” You hiss, trying to turn away from him, but he persists. Unable to take the hint and overbearing even now after everything you’d gone through together just to reach a tentative understanding with one another. All of it gone, in the blink of an eye. 

“Now, now,” he murmurs in a placating tone, at complete odds with the way he grabs your chin and pulls you around to look at him again. “It’s nothing to get so upset over. I told you I want you, didn’t I? Or do you still think I’m only teasing you?” 

You hesitate, eyeing him warily. A moment ago, yes, you’d started to doubt him in the face of this sudden upheaval. You’d expected at least another day with him, another chance to find the courage to ask about his intentions with you, and now there was so much that was going to go left unsaid. But looking in his face and the grim expression you find there, you realize that he really is serious. Not only was he going to come back without fail, he would come back for you. Not the scenery or the city, or for the duties he carried out for his homeland. This was just his way of making sure you were taken care of in the meantime … and you couldn’t exactly fault him for that. 

Finally, you relent. “No, I don’t think that anymore. I believe you.” 

“Good.” Breaking out into a wide, eager grin, Childe leans down to kiss you, hard and fast before you can react or swat him away. You flush red hot, stammering something about the others seeing, but he just laughs it off without concern. “Let them see! You are mine, and some day we will stand on top of the world together, mark my words!” 

You gape at him in disbelief, hardly even daring to believe your own ears, but he only takes advantage of your shock and confusion to grab your face again. Gently cradling your cheeks between both hands now, he looks at you like you’re something precious and worth protecting, crystalline irises dancing with an inner light that was all his. No exterior illumination seemed to be able to pierce that murky, tumultuous void, but this was something else entirely. It made his eyes look like brilliant diamonds refracting an infinite number of prisms that existed nowhere else on the spectrum and this … it was all for you?

Feeling your resolve irreparably shatter, you lean into him and go up on the tips of your toes so you can kiss him. “I’d like to see that, Childe. I hope you keep your promises.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Crossposted to AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50380030

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #childe x reader #self insert bullshit

[fyregrayfong]

This Is How It Feels | Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Regina Mills x Reader

Warnings: injury

Word Count: 1.7k

The morning air was crisp as you left the cozy embrace of the tavern, your boots clunking lightly on the worn steps. With the weight of your backpack snug against your shoulders, you stepped into Granny's Diner, where the black and white checkered floor gleamed under the morning sun. There, you spotted Henry, engrossed in a thick leather-bound book at the bar counter.

"Hey, Henry!" you called out, a smile gracing your lips as you approached.

Henry glanced up, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Hey, y/n. What brings you out, are you heading out already?

"Uhh…no actually I was gonna just head for a little camping trip in the woods," you replied, gesturing towards her backpack. "What about you?"

"Just needed some fresh air before school," Henry shrugged, his gaze returning to the book. "Sometimes I feel like I'm just in the way around here."

Your heart went out to him, and you slid onto the stool beside him. "I'm sorry to hear that. Wanna talk about what’s going on?"

Henry paused, contemplating his words.  “My family are all kind of like heroes. They are always helping people in town with their troubles. My mom is the mayor and my other mom is the sheriff. My grandmother’s…was…a teacher and my grandfather was a deputy. They like to serve people. I try to help but I always end up getting in the way just stumbling in their shadows.” Henry's expression softened as he looked down at his hot chocolate. 

Listening empathetically, you reached for the coffee pitcher and poured yourself a cup, a thoughtful expression on your face. While you get a nasty glare from Granny but you continue on "It sounds like you're struggling to find your own path amidst their legacies."

“My own path?” he looks up at you and you nod while mixing the cream and sugar “yeah, it sounds like you're really grappling with finding your place among your family of heroes. That's completely understandable. I’m sure you feel a bit overwhelmed by their noble professions”

Henry nodded, his gaze fixed on his hot chocolate. "Yeah, exactly."

Henry nods as if that’s the issue then you continue as you slam the sugar container on the counter to get his attention “But here's the thing, you have your own strengths and passions that are unique to YOU. Have you thought about what really lights you up, what makes you feel alive? What makes Henry..well…Henry?"

Henry shrugs and shakes his head, and you give him a sympathetic nod "Maybe you don't see it yet, but I bet you have qualities that make you special in your own way. You don't have to be a carbon copy of your family members to make a difference. Heroism comes in all shapes and sizes, and it's about finding what feels right for you."

Henry hesitated, but your encouragement seemed to embolden him. "I've tried, but..."

“It’s scary but remember, Henry, it's okay to take your time figuring things out. Life's a journey, not a race. Keep exploring, keep learning, and don't be afraid to try new things. You'll find your place in the world, I'm sure of it." you put a hand on his shoulder giving it a light squeeze then offer him a smile. 

“Henry” Regina calls out to her son as he quickly looks over “mom! How much did you hear?”

Regina offers a kind smile and “very little. Come on we gotta get you to school” Henry nods, grabbing his bookbag and the book. He walks with Regina to the door then stops to turn around “Hey y/n?”

You look up at him and see him give you a smile “thanks, it means a lot”

You offer him a smile and cheer your mug to him “anytime you need someone to talk to” he laughs and you notice Regina gives you a soft smile then mouths out a thank you as they walk out the diner. 

With a sense of contentment, you finished your coffee and left money on the counter, bidding goodbye to Granny as you stepped back into the sunlight.

---

As the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, you found yourself deep in the heart of the forest, surrounded by towering trees and the gentle rustle of leaves. Enjoying the hike and watching the birds and animals. You set up camp near a babbling brook, the sound of rushing water lulling you into a state of peace. You decide to take a moment to take some landscape photos and sketch for a bit. Capturing the golden hour of the day as the rays of the sun shine through the ceiling of trees. 

But as darkness fell, a sense of unease crept over her. Every snap of a twig sounded like an ominous warning, sending shivers down your spine. You look around for any possible predators. It could just be an opossum or maybe there’s a possibility of it being a bear. Setting your books down you stand grabbing a flashlight to make sure the space around your camp is secured. 

Suddenly, a low growl echoed through the forest, freezing you in your tracks. Your heart raced as you fumbled for the flashlight, keeping your cool. If this is a bear trying to get your sights on it first so you can find the best escape plan. 

Another noise of a twig snapping and your head turns quickly to the source of the noise. Slowly backing up towards your camp you crouch down to pack up your bag. A shuffle is heard a couple yards away and you point your flashlight over “who’s there!” 

There was no response, only the eerie silence of the woods. Your breath caught in your throat as you zip up the bag and then kick dirt into the campfire. You take a cautious step backwards, your senses on high alert.

That’s when you hear it. A loud howling noise is heard followed by what looks like a massive black shadow behind your shoulder. You take off in a full blown sprint. Hurdling over large trunks and ducking low branches as you try to run in the direction of the main road. You hear the growling getting closer and you hid behind a large tree. Taking a moment to breathe as you look around for a branch or maybe some rock formations you can climb to get higher ground. You peek over and see what looks smaller than a bear but bigger than a dog. You have no idea if it was possible for wolves to be located in this region. As far as you know there wasn’t. 

Okay, the road should only be about half a mile away. I can make it or atleast get closer to find help.

You take a deep breath and then find your courage and sprint off again. Hearing the growling again behind you but then, disaster struck, your foot gets caught on a hidden root, sending you tumbling to the ground with a sickening thud. Darkness engulfed your vision as your head connected with the forest floor, stars dancing behind your eyelids followed by total darkness.

---

When consciousness returned, you found yourself in unfamiliar surroundings, the soft glow of lamplight casting shadows across the room. Confusion clouded your thoughts until Regina's familiar face came into view, her touch a comforting anchor in your view of confusion. A sudden pain shoots your face “ouch” you wince. 

“Sorry” Regina whispers as she softly presses the cotton ball to your head. “Just cleaning the cut”

"Regina?" you murmured, your voice hoarse.

Regina's expression softened with relief. "You're awake. Thank goodness."

"What... what happened?" you ask, struggling to piece together the events that had led them here.

Regina sighed, her voice gentle. "Someone found you unconscious near the woods. You took quite a fall. But don't worry, you're safe now."

You nod as you get the information

Regina offered her a reassuring smile. "Just rest now. You'll be okay. I’m actually almost done here and I can give you a ride to Granny’s…"

"Thank you, Regina.” you offer her a warm smile as you find the strength to sit up on the couch “I appreciate the offer”

As she assured you of your safety, gratitude flooded your senses, mingled with a newfound appreciation for the kindness of others. 

–

As Regina walked you to your room at Granny's, you couldn't help but feel a sense of closeness between you. "Thank you, Regina. I really appreciate all your help tonight."

Regina's gaze softened, her eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sent a flutter through your chest. "Of course, y/n. I'm just glad I was able to find you in time."

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, me too. I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't."

There was a pause, the air between you thick with unspoken words, until Regina spoke again, her voice soft. "Listen, y/n... I just wanted to say... I'm glad you're okay. I don't know what I would've done if something had happened to you."

Her words caught you off guard, and you felt a rush of warmth spread through you at the sincerity in her voice. "I... um, thanks, Regina. That means a lot."

Regina's gaze lingered on you, her expression unreadable, before she cleared her throat and stepped back, breaking the moment. "Well, um... I should let you rest. You've had a long night."

You nodded, though a part of you wished she would stay a little longer. "Yeah, I probably should. Thanks again, Regina. For everything."

With a small smile, Regina turned to leave, but before she did, she glanced back at you over her shoulder. "Get some rest, y/n. And if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

You watched her go, a smile playing at your lips as you settled into bed, the memory of her kindness filling you with a warmth that lingered long after she was gone. Maybe, just maybe, there was something more between you and Regina. And as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn't help but wonder what the future might hold.

#regina mills #regina mills x reader #regina mills x female reader #once upon a time #once upon a time fanfiction #regina mills fanfiction #regina mills x you #ouat

[ninemelodies]

two worlds apart

written for doctordonna week 23 day one: fire/glow also on ao3

“Couldn’t you have picked a cooler time to visit?” Donna complains. “Even my eyelids are sweating, Doctor.” 

Behind her, the Doctor scoffs. “You’re the one who asked to see fireflies!” He steps out of the TARDIS, still clothed in his suit jacket and coat. He pulls the door closed behind him and turns to face Donna. With his hands on his hips, he begins a rather impressive imitation of Donna's voice. “Doctor, that last three planets you picked have been rubbish, it’s my turn to pick! I want to go see fireflies, a lot of fireflies, like that song.” He drops the accent and gestures to the landscape around them. “So here we are, in the middle of a field in the middle of summer because fireflies are most active during the summer. Which also reminds me - you really need to stop consuming media from your future.”

“Those planets were rubbish! We nearly got arrested! Three times!” Donna defends, and then, in a flash of childish annoyance, she sticks her tongue out at him. The Doctor returns the gesture. 

When she had first told the Doctor what she wanted to do, he had spent 30 minutes trying to convince Donna to go to some planet where there were literal fire flies. As in, flies that set themselves on fire when they died. Donna had found it a bit morbid and knew, with their luck, that a trip to that planet was likely to end with one or both of them missing their eyebrows. And now he wanted to try and warn her about spoilers? Traveling with him was one big spoiler! 

“Like I'm going to go home and copy down the entirety of a song to claim as my own before the original artist can make it.” Donna rolls her eyes. “I can promise you I'm not that talented. And besides, it’s not like I'd be getting rid of The Beatles or anything.” 

“That did happen once…” the Doctor mutters, but before Donna can ask him to explain, he’s already moving on. “Come on,” he says and begins trudging through the ankle high grass. “I know a good spot.”

“It better be worth it,” Donna threatens, but there’s no real heat behind her words. She follows behind him. Despite her complaints about the heat, the Doctor has taken her to a rather beautiful field. There are wildflowers blooming everywhere and the air is alive with the sounds of nature. Every step they take sends grasshoppers and other tiny green bugs scattering. If it wasn’t so bloody hot, Donna could imagine herself spending a lot of time here. 

They haven’t traveled far before the Doctor stops. There is a clearing in the field where the grass has been mostly flattened and nothing too prickly grows. The Doctor pauses and digs around in his coat pocket for a moment before he produces a blue and white checkered picnic blanket. He lays it out on the ground and then steps back. “Ladies first,” he says as he bows low and gestures to the blanket. 

“So you're finally recognizing my lady-like qualities, hm?” Donna asks. She settles cross-legged on the blanket and fans herself with her hand. 

“Oh,” the Doctor says, like he’s been reminded of something. He reaches a hand in his coat pocket and then continues reaching, until his arm up to his elbow is hidden from view. He digs around for a minute before he frowns and pulls back a bit. “Hang on.” Using his other hand, he reaches over and pulls the pocket open further. He digs for just a moment longer before he pulls his hand out with a triumphant noise. In his hand is a small bottle of sunscreen and a bottle of water. 

He tosses the sunscreen to Donna before settling onto the blanket. “The sun should be going down soon, but..” the Doctor trails off with a shrug that Donna takes to mean ‘better safe than sorry.’ He's not wrong, Donna burns very easily. 

She catches the sunscreen and begins smearing a thin layer over all her exposed skin. When she’s done, she hands the sunscreen back to the Doctor and takes the bottle of water. It feels like ice in her hand. “How is this still cold?” Donna hasn’t seen the Doctor near any kind of fridge or cooling station in several days. 

“What,” the Doctor says, “are your pockets not thermoregulated?” 

“No!” 

“Would you like them to be?” he asks, like it’s a casual thing to have pockets that are climate controlled. Donna gives him a look and he raises his hands in surrender. “It's just an option! I can update them on the TARDIS, if you want.” 

Donna is positive she doesn’t want the Doctor doing anything to her pockets. “I think I’ll keep them as they are, spaceman.” The Doctor’s experiments tended to always have some kind of unintended effect, like boiling an egg from several paces away. Knowing him, he’d accidentally make a black hole in her trousers or something equally ridiculous. 

The Doctor shrugs. “Suit yourself.” In the calm that follows, the Doctor goes digging through his pockets again and produces two sandwiches, one cucumber and cream cheese (Donna's favorite) and the other peanut butter and banana (the Doctor’s favorite), a whole banana, a variety pack of crisps, and another bottle of water. “Asked the TARDIS to make some snacks,” he explains as he arranges the food on the blanket. 

She snags a packet of spicy crisps and the cucumber sandwich. The sandwich, much like the water bottle, is still at the perfect temperature despite being in the Doctor’s pockets for who knows how long. Donna decides she’s probably better off not thinking too hard about it being a pocket sandwich and takes a bite. 

Across from her, the Doctor starts with the banana and quickly demolishes it before moving onto his sandwich. He's got a large mouthful of peanut butter and bread when Donna speaks.

“So where are we?” 

The Doctor smacks loudly and swallows the bite of sandwich in his mouth before speaking, “We’re in Re:America, sometime around the oh…” he sticks a finger in his mouth and then pulls it out to hold up like he’s testing the wind. “23rd century? Ooooh,” he sounds excited now. “It's Independence Day! We’re in for a treat!”

Donna frowns at him. “You brought me here and you didn’t even know what day it was?” 

“That's what you’re questioning?” the Doctor asks with a raised eyebrow. “You said you wanted to see fireflies, Re:America has the largest population of native fireflies in all of history,” he explains. “I set the time coordinates to bring us here in the summer, but I didn’t specify a day.” He takes another large bite of his sandwich.

In all honesty, Donna isn’t sure if the Doctor is just incredibly bad at navigating or if the TARDIS just decides to drop them off wherever she thinks they’re needed. Given the way the Doctor likes to smack the console with that rubber mallet, Donna has a feeling the TARDIS is a little more obstinate than she will ever know. 

The sun is just starting to set when Donna finishes her sandwich and crisps. She puts the trash in her normal, not dimensionally altered pockets, and lays on her back on the blanket. The sky above her is painted in shades of orange and purple. They still have a few minutes before dark, so Donna asks, “Re:America?” 

She hears the Doctor huff out a laugh before he shifts and lays down next to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him settle with his arms crossed behind his head. 

“Re:America was created in response to rising capitalistic ideas in America that were oppressing the working class,” he explains. “The common people didn’t like the way they were being treated so they carved out a section of central America, around Kansas,” he wiggles his hand in a so-so gesture, “Nebraska area and created their own government and economic system.” 

“So…Re:America like re: in an email?” 

The Doctor turns his head to grin at her. “Donna Noble, you are amazing. That’s exactly it. Re:America was named because it was literally a response to the increasingly harsh atmosphere in America.” He turns back to look up at the sky. “Unfortunately, Re:America will only last for another 50 years or so before it gets dissolved back into the rest of the United States. The impact is astounding, though. New laws for protection of workers, a revised economic system that lifts millions out of poverty and the nations of the world begin to come together and space travel becomes a priority. This is where the First Great and Bountiful Human Empire starts before it spreads out amongst the stars. Isn’t it brilliant?” 

Donna hums in agreement, but quickly gets distracted by the first flicker of light above them. For a minute there is nothing, and then suddenly there are hundreds of fireflies all around them. They twinkle like stars and Donna can’t help but laugh. She turns to look over at the Doctor and finds him staring at her with a soft smile on his face. 

“Well?” he asks. “Worth it?” 

“It's beautiful,” Donna says. “I've seen them before, in the country when I was young, but it was never like this. This is amazing.” 

The Doctor shifts and pulls a hand out from behind his head. He sticks it up in the air and the fireflies dance around it. A few land, blink for a moment, and then take off again. Eventually, as the fireflies scatter off to places outside of their clearing, the Doctor begins to point out constellations and stars in the sky. There are a couple stars that Donna’s never heard of, and the Doctor explains that their light only began to reach the Earth long after the 21st century. 

Now that the sun has gone down, the night is beginning to cool off, and, with the soothing sound of the Doctor speaking lowly beside her, Donna begins to doze off. She’s comfortable and she’s safe and she’s almost asleep when a bright light and a loud boom shatters the night. 

Beside her, the Doctor jerks and his description of the far-off Treyas Galaxy cuts off. Before Donna can truly process what happened, the Doctor is hovering over her, ready to shield her from any other explosion or debris. 

Another bang sounds and the sky lights up again in a shower of blue sparks. It’s fireworks, Donna realizes. Someone is setting off fireworks, very close by, judging by how loud they are. She can hear the tell-tale whistle as another is launched. 

Above her, the Doctor is wide eyed and pale in the brief flashes of light. She can’t say for sure what the explosions are reminding him of, but she can take a guess. Gramps had that same look whenever fireworks went off. It was the look of a man haunted by war. 

Without hesitation, Donna rests her hands gently on the Doctor’s cheeks. She keeps her touch light, so he can pull away if he wants. “Hey,” she says, softly, in the silence between fireworks. “It's Independence Day. You said so earlier. They’re fireworks. We’re okay.” 

The Doctor blinks once, twice, and Donna watches as the panic fades from his eyes. He draws in a ragged breath, and Donna suddenly realizes that in his alarm, the Doctor had stopped breathing. She shifts her fingers down, just slightly, and can feel his pulse racing under her fingertips.

“You alright?” she asks.

Instead of answering her, he rolls away and settles back into his original position, like nothing had happened. Before he can tuck his hand back under his head, Donna grabs it and shifts closer to him so their sides are pressed together. She squeezes it gently. 

“Doctor?” she calls, and this time he turns to look at her. “Do you want to go back to the TARDIS?” 

He shakes his head. “No, it’s alright.” He squeezes her hand in return and turns back to the sky as another firework explodes into a shower of brightly colored purple sparks above them. 

She continues watching him for another few moments. With each deep breath he takes, more of the tension leaks from his shoulders and his face smoothes out. His pulse still seems high, but he’s calmer now, more aware of himself and the situation. He flinches slightly with each mortar that explodes above them. She suspects that he had known about the firework show, given his mention of a treat earlier, but had been startled when the first one lit up the sky unexpectedly. 

Satisfied that the Doctor isn’t going to vibrate out of his skin with anxiety, Donna turns back to the sky. “It's okay, you know.” She's not looking at the Doctor now, but she can tell he’s listening by the way he stills in his fidgeting. “It happens to Gramps too, when the council starts up a firework show he isn’t prepared for.” 

The Doctor doesn’t answer her, but he shifts impossibly closer and begins explaining the mechanics behind these fireworks and how, in the early 22nd century, scientists discovered they could engineer the gunpowder to burn in impossible colors and form extremely intricate patterns. 

She listens closely, oohing and aahing like a child when a particularly complex pattern or pretty color lights up the sky. She remembers the Doctor finishing his explanation and going quiet beside her. She remembers the Doctor’s hand in hers and then, the next thing she knows, she’s being carried, gently. 

Donna stirs, confused at the situation, but the Doctor shushes her. “You fell asleep,” he whispers. “We’re going back to the TARDIS now. Go back to sleep.” And his voice is so soft, Donna can’t help but do just that. 

The next morning, she wakes in her bed in the TARDIS. She’s still in her clothes from the night before and she’s sticky with sunscreen and sweat. Donna showers and then finds the Doctor in the console room, fiddling with a button that has been sticking on their last couple trips and is making landings rougher than usual. 

He looks up as she enters and grins at her. “So!” he says as he abandons the button to circle the console and stand in front of her. “Where to today?” 

“Surprise me,” Donna says.

The Doctor laughs with glee, flips a lever and with a familiar wheezing noise, they’re off. 

#doctor who #donna noble #10th doctor #my fics #doctordonna week 23

[mintjeru]

blood demon art 🔥; my entry for a recent art contest

open for better quality | no reposts | ID under the cut

[Image description: A digital drawing of an orange-haired girl with short pigtails in mid-air. She is dressed like Kamado Nezuko from Kimetsu no Yaiba, but her kimono is light blue instead of pink. She is wearing a black coat and her obi has a checkered white and violet pattern. She is backed by the moon and night sky. Her back is facing the viewer, but she turns to reach out towards a flaming thread. Multiple flaming threads surround her.]

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #myart #fanart #technically #doodle #was it risky of me to color this whole thing in 2 hours after tentatively feeling better after a really bad migraine? #yes. #did i do it anyway? also yes #none of you should follow my example ;;; always prioritize your health before deadlines #i definitely could have improved on the fire rendering but alas it is submitted and done #i know they received my piece but i have no idea when they're going to send out results #in other news i think i've resolved my issue regarding making/posting art #i'm going to try to be more mindful when i'm drawing from now on and just do what i want tbh!! #it's such a simple answer that i'm almost embarrassed for agonizing over it but i'll take steps to make things better!!

[penname-artist]

This is a hot take, at 12:20 in the morning, because I've been thinking about it and now I would like to make words appear:

I wish to impart some 'old hag of the fandom realm' wisdom to fanfic writers, of all kinds, on what to maybe not do, when writing your fic. Constructive critique of course, this is not to bash on those who do these things. Cuz see sometimes, I am human, and I have preference, and often my preference is for fics...that have...correct grammar...

Line breaks. If you are posting to a site like AO3, there is a special HTML code for a line break to separate scene changes in your fic, and it's <hr>. Please use them, please? We have them, they're beautiful. We don't have to have a hundred squiggly ~~~*~~~ lines, I know they look pretty, but people who use screen readers get very frustrated when they get to them. There are easier ways, my children. Far easier.

Please...please at the very least understand the structure of sentences. Subject, predicate, period. "The ball (subject) is red (about subject) . (End of the statement)" Run-on sentences, or sentences which have no periods, or the periods are far too spaced out, get really really hard to read really really quickly. Example: There used to be a ball in the park where I used to play with my friend Dillan, he is away in another city right now, so he hid the ball somewhere near the playground where we used to play and left clues all over for me to try to figure out where it might be and I went out there this afternoon with my family to try to see if I could find the first clue to *snooooore*

If you do struggle with grammar errors and such, kindly see if there is a buddy or fellow mutual able to assist you or edit your fics. This will optimize not only the quality of the content coming out for readers, but it will increase your bond with your editor. Probably.

It never hurts to keep an air of professionalism. Remember to try and keep readers in the moment, so taking them out to add in personal notes during the fic may not be the best idea (unless the intention is only for comedic effects. *Squeaks rubber chicken*)

As well, remember to keep track of your writing tense during the scene. Is it past tense? Present? First person POV, third person POV? Double check if you're not sure.

Lastly, since I see lots of people struggle with this type of thing, remember you can also read up on grammar stuff if you're ever in a jam. The internet is full of easy ways to learn the correct dialogue tags without spending forever in a classroom trying to pass a test. Use it to your advantage! And there are tons of additional writing helpers out there; synonyms, word rhyme sites, writing quality checkers, finding missing words, and more.

#writing tips #fanfiction #fanfiction tips #writing advice

[wild-oats-and-cornflowers]

so the concert was fantastic beyond my expectations. Now granted I didn't know what to expect since a) I never got to see MCR before the breakup and b) I haven't been watching the livestreams because they all tend to have bad sound quality. But the whole night was just unbroken fun and joy from beginning to end. I got to the Little Caesar's Arena about 5 minutes before doors and immediately headed into the merch line which was actually really fast-moving - I was in line for about 20 minutes, picked up the demo lovers shirt and some pins and was well seated and settled a good 15 minutes before the show started.

What I had heard about the Lemon Twigs made me think they weren't gonna be my cup of tea - I had the impression they were an EDM band - but they were actually a regular rock band with a really nice sound. Thursday was killer as I expected. Geoff Rickly dedicated Signals Over the Air to human rights, reproductive justice, and the right of everyone there to express their gender and sexuality.

This was the MCR set list (courtesy of The_MCR_Archive on twitter):

They were incredible. The people saying they're at the absolute top of their game, better than they've ever been, were NOT lying. Foundations of Decay actually sounded better live than the recorded version - not to insult the recorded version, it's excellent, but the live was something else. Also Gerard was dressed in a nurse costume (photo by blazingchakrams on twitter):

The crowd was pretty lively for the whole show, but I think went the craziest for House of Wolves and Na Na Na (s/o to the guy in the checkered shirt 3 rows down from me who went crazy for pretty much the entire show.) World is Ugly was probably imo the most beautiful performance of the night, but Welcome to the Black Parade was the pinnacle of the show, and may I say that I only cried a little. Apparently they were originally planning to do Cancer as the final encore song, but changed it, which I'm glad of because Helena was amazing.

People have said that the day after their shows they've felt kind of sad and drab because it's over or they're emotionally in withdrawal or whatever but I'm just bobbing along in a kind of extended afterglow here. I have my concert tee on and I feel only a deep content that I got to witness all of that last night.

#mcr #mcr detroit #not les mis

[giftsforus]

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#Racing

[worthyhog0001]

Timeless Trends: A Comprehensive Guide to Classic Modular Kitchen Designs

Introduction

The heart of every home, the kitchen, is a space where functionality meets aesthetics. In the realm of kitchen design, timeless and classic modular kitchens hold a special place. This comprehensive guide explores the enduring trends, design principles, and elements that contribute to the charm and longevity of classic modular kitchens.

Understanding Classic Modular Kitchen Designs

Defining Characteristics of Classic Modular Kitchens

Elegance: Classic modular kitchens exude an air of sophistication and refined elegance. Timeless design elements contribute to a kitchen that stands the test of time.

Simplicity: A classic modular kitchen is characterized by its simplicity. Clean lines, minimalistic detailing, and a balanced layout create a space that is both functional and aesthetically pleasing.

Quality Materials: Longevity is a key aspect of classic design. The use of high-quality materials such as wood, stone, and stainless steel ensures durability and a timeless appeal.

Neutral Color Palette: Classic modular kitchens often embrace neutral color palettes, including whites, creams, and muted tones. This choice not only adds a sense of timelessness but also creates a versatile backdrop for various decor styles.

Key Elements of Classic Modular Kitchen Designs

1. Cabinetry

Shaker-Style Cabinets:

Shaker-style cabinets are a hallmark of classic design, featuring simple, flat-panel doors with rail frames. The versatility of Shaker cabinets allows them to complement various kitchen styles.

Wood Finishes:

Opt for natural wood finishes like oak, maple, or cherry for a warm and timeless look. The inherent grain patterns add texture and character to the cabinetry.

Glass Fronts:

Integrate glass-fronted cabinets to showcase elegant dishware and add a touch of sophistication. Classic kitchens often feature glass with a mullion pattern for a vintage feel.

2. Countertops

Marble Countertops:

Marble countertops epitomize classic luxury. Their timeless elegance, veined patterns, and durability make them a popular choice for classic modular kitchens.

Granite Countertops:

Granite, known for its durability and natural beauty, is another classic option. Choose neutral tones like beige, white, or gray to maintain a timeless aesthetic.

Butcher Block:

For a touch of warmth and a rustic appeal, consider incorporating a butcher block countertop, especially on an island. This adds a functional and classic element to the kitchen.

3. Backsplash

Subway Tiles:

Subway tiles are a classic choice for kitchen backsplashes. Their simple and rectangular shape, often in white or neutral tones, complements the overall design while providing a clean and timeless look.

Mosaic Patterns:

Consider mosaic patterns, especially in muted colors, for a touch of vintage charm. These intricate designs add visual interest without overpowering the kitchen's classic simplicity.

Natural Stone:

Opt for natural stone backsplashes like travertine or marble to bring in a sense of luxury. The unique veining and texture of these materials contribute to the kitchen's timeless appeal.

4. Flooring

Hardwood Flooring:

Hardwood flooring is a classic choice that adds warmth and character to the kitchen. Oak, maple, or cherry wood floors contribute to the timeless ambiance.

Checkered Tiles:

For a touch of vintage charm, consider checkered tiles in neutral tones. This classic pattern brings a sense of tradition and elegance to the kitchen floor.

Natural Stone:

Stone flooring, such as marble or limestone, creates a luxurious and enduring foundation for a classic modular kitchen. These materials are not only beautiful but also durable.

5. Hardware and Fixtures

Brushed Nickel or Brass Hardware:

Classic kitchens often feature brushed nickel or brass hardware. These finishes add a touch of sophistication and can be paired with various cabinet styles.

Farmhouse Sink:

A farmhouse sink, with its apron front, is a classic choice that brings a sense of nostalgia. It not only serves a practical purpose but also becomes a focal point in the kitchen.

Traditional Faucets:

Choose traditional-style faucets with cross handles or lever handles. Antique or oil-rubbed bronze finishes contribute to the classic and timeless look.

6. Lighting

Pendant Lights:

Pendant lights above the kitchen island or dining area add a touch of elegance. Classic designs, such as glass or metal shades, enhance the timeless aesthetic.

Chandeliers:

Incorporating a chandelier in the kitchen brings a sense of grandeur. Opt for classic crystal chandeliers or vintage-inspired designs to elevate the overall ambiance.

Under-Cabinet Lighting:

To enhance functionality and aesthetics, install under-cabinet lighting. This not only illuminates the workspace but also adds a layer of sophistication to the kitchen design.

Design Tips for a Timeless Modular Kitchen

1. Symmetry and Balance

Embrace symmetry in the kitchen layout. Balanced placement of cabinets, appliances, and other elements contributes to a harmonious and timeless design.

2. Timeless Color Palette

Stick to a neutral color palette with timeless shades like white, beige, or soft gray. These colors create a backdrop that allows for flexibility in decor and accessories.

3. Classic Patterns

Incorporate classic patterns such as stripes, checks, or herringbone for added visual interest. These patterns stand the test of time and can be introduced through textiles or backsplash designs.

4. Open Shelving

Consider open shelving to display elegant dishware and add a touch of classic charm. It breaks the monotony of closed cabinets and creates an opportunity for curated displays.

5. Timeless Furniture

Choose timeless furniture pieces, such as a classic dining table or chairs with elegant detailing. These elements add a sense of continuity and refinement to the kitchen.

6. Personalized Touches

Infuse personal touches through decor items like vintage kitchenware, family heirlooms, or personalized artwork. These elements add character without compromising the timeless design.

Maintenance and Care for Classic Modular Kitchens

Regular Cleaning: Establish a routine for regular cleaning to maintain the timeless appeal of the kitchen. Wipe down surfaces, clean appliances, and pay attention to details like hardware and fixtures.

Avoid Clutter: Classic kitchens thrive on simplicity. Avoid clutter on countertops and maintain a well-organized space to preserve the clean and timeless aesthetic.

Periodic Updates: While the overall design is timeless, consider periodic updates to decor elements such as lighting fixtures, textiles, or accessories to keep the kitchen fresh and aligned with evolving tastes.

Quality Maintenance: Invest in high-quality materials and fixtures that require minimal maintenance. This ensures that the kitchen retains its timeless beauty without succumbing to wear and tear.

Conclusion

A classic modular kitchen is a timeless investment that combines functionality with enduring aesthetics. By understanding the defining characteristics, key elements, and design principles, you can create a kitchen that stands the test of time. Whether you prefer the elegance of Shaker-style cabinets, the luxury of marble countertops, or the warmth of hardwood floors, the timeless trends outlined in this comprehensive guide provide a roadmap for designing a classic modular kitchen that exudes charm and sophistication for years to come.

[ismailenglish62]

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The essay just needs to be uploaded and will be scanned and reviewed for any writing which will seem like plagiarism. This is highlighted and students can amend as essential. The website has some wonderful additions that make it a one-stop platform for any essay and study needs. There’s a useful and informative blog that’s frequently updated with useful suggestions and methods to make faculty life simpler. Also, PapersOwl has a YouTube channel that keeps students up to date with video content material related to finding out and essay queries. PaperOwls group knows that informative video content material is necessary in today’s digital age. A series of experiments utilizing paper airplanes reveals new aerodynamic effects, a group of scientists has discovered. Its findings enhance our understanding of flight stability and will encourage new ... The bidding system transfers responsibility for the standard of paper to the customer. It typically helps to do not forget that the point of those kinds of syntheses is to point out your readers the way you perceive your analysis, to help them learn the the rest of your paper. No reductions are available upon your first visit to the internet site – no special provides for the primary order or massive orders, no welcome banners of this kind. I’ve requested four papers and all obtained good grades so far.

Each essay writing order comes with free options, similar to in-text citations and APA or MLA formatting, outline, reference web page, and title web page. In the context of Paper Owl plagiarism, it's prudent to remember that selecting a more adept author may help mitigate the chance. While these skilled writers could command the next charge, the resultant work could assure originality and quality. The form comprises a quantity of fields, every in search of specific data regarding the work. The price you pay to PapersOwl.com is extremely excessive and a complete waste. These include a title page maker, a thesis generator, and a quotation generator. On the floor, these would possibly seem like helpful utilities, but their sensible software is debatable. These tools usually malfunction, including to the already mounting frustration of the person. All these factors culminated in a really dissatisfying expertise with Papers Owl. A question naturally arises here – is Papersowl trustworthy? Given my encounter with their service, I suggest potential users approach cautiously. Although these are useful instruments, there’s no assure that you’ll get a brilliant outcome. For example, it’s higher to seek out an expert who can write an excellent conclusion or thesis assertion. Papersowl.com costs are relatively high in comparison with other writing providers, starting at $23 per web page for a high school essay with a 14-day deadline. According to everything we now have seen so far, we are in a position to definitely suggest the ordering of essays on EssayUSA. Unlike plenty of different writing platforms, this is the service you'll be able to rely on. In addition to a private approach of certified and skilled writers, students are supplied a full range of guarantees and completely written papers. Thanks to Paper owl, I am no longer reaching my Master's diploma. All essay-writing services with the very same workflow. You can’t verify that the skilled writer assigned to you has the tutorial background to help together with your project. The author ought to fastidiously learn all the primary points offered by the client and try to match the requirements. There isn't any want for revisions if the paper is written after studying all of the instructions by the client. Please understand that not everyone has the time for revisions. When evaluating academic writing providers, trying at the company's offerings and extra services is important. In the case of Paper Owls, several components make it less than satisfactory. Even more regarding, the standard of the paper I received from Papersowl.com was extremely disappointing. As soon as Papers Owl completed our articles, we sent them to our ally in the academic surroundings. The US faculty professor Sybil Low reviewed and graded the essays in compliance with existing American school standards. Many occasions I bought an essay writing on this service. The web site always encourages writers to enhance their writing skills. We’ve checked PapersOwl.com critiques from employees and found that the more skilled ones usually spend the time to mentor and practice the brand new ones. This means that even when you can not rent one of the high writers, you can still assure that your assignment might be handled professionally. If you have written your task, you'll find a way to rent a professional to proofread and edit it. Many students have the wanted tutorial knowledge however don’t have the skills needed to complete an essay or a paper within the excellent quality. I despatched for revision and support individual Eric defined the paper is calculated by words not pages. I ask if the paper was really over the word count why wasnt it the proper number of pages. Support suggested me she's going to ship for writer to finish final web page. Michael states he can resend for wri ter to correct which was what Eric was supposed to do the day before. Here I am writing the rest of the paper and no one knows why -only this paper came back short however is over the number of words for five pages. Michael verified the title page and reference page was not counted and the format is correct.

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[menzone800]

Mane Maneuvering: Navigating the Barber Shops of Oak Park and Eglinton

Choosing the right barber is an intimate affair. It's not just about getting a haircut; it's about trusting someone with your crown, someone who can interpret your mumbled desires and translate them into follicular perfection. This quest for the perfect mane maestro becomes even more delicate when navigating the diverse landscapes of Oak Park and Eglinton. Fear not, intrepid clippers, for this guide will help you find your barber shop nirvana in these vibrant neighborhoods.

Oak Park: Where Classic Meets Cool

Step into Oak Park's barbershops, and you'll be transported to a bygone era. Red-and-white barber poles spin, checkered floors gleam, and the air hums with the steady click of clippers and the murmur of friendly banter. But don't mistake tradition for stodginess. These shops are infused with a modern coolness, evident in the stylists' sharp fades and creative takes on classic cuts.

Legends Barbershop & Shave Parlor: This award-winning establishment is Oak Park's crown jewel. Stepping inside is like entering a sanctuary of old-world charm, with leather-bound barber chairs and vintage shaving mugs lining the walls. The barbers, however, are anything but old-fashioned. They wield their blades with an artistic flair, crafting everything from pompadours to buzz cuts with precision and panache.

Barbershop Near Me: Don't let the unassuming name fool you. This hidden gem boasts a warm and welcoming atmosphere, where experienced barbers offer a range of services at affordable prices. They're masters of the fade, and their beard trims are legendary. Bonus points for the vintage tunes that soundtrack your haircut.

The Oak Ave Barber: This modern, minimalist haven caters to the style-conscious gentleman. The sleek interior and friendly staff create a relaxed, inviting atmosphere. Their barbers are tech-savvy, adept at translating Instagram inspirations into reality. Expect sharp lines, trendy fades, and meticulous attention to detail.

Eglinton: Where Diversity Reigns Supreme

Eglinton is a kaleidoscope of cultures, and its barbershops reflect this vibrant medley. Here, you'll find shops catering to every hair type and style imaginable, from traditional African barbers to trendy Korean salons.

Regal Barbershop: This Afro-Caribbean barbershop is a community hub, buzzing with lively conversation and infectious laughter. The barbers are experts in all things textured hair, weaving intricate braids, sculpting flawless fades, and conjuring up intricate designs. Prepare for a lively, unforgettable experience.

Hair Story Salon: Step into this Korean hair haven, and you'll be greeted by the latest K-pop tunes and stylists wielding magic wands (read: curling irons). They specialize in all things perm and color, transforming limp locks into voluminous waves and vibrant hues. Be prepared to walk out feeling like a K-drama star.

The Barber's Chair: This family-run shop is a neighborhood staple, offering quality haircuts at reasonable prices. They cater to all ages and styles, from the classic crew cut to the trendy undercut. It's the perfect place for a no-frills, reliable haircut in a welcoming atmosphere.

The Final Cut:

Whether you crave a timeless fade in Oak Park or a K-pop makeover in Eglinton, the perfect barber shop awaits. Trust your gut, embrace the vibe, and most importantly, relax and enjoy the transformative power of a good haircut. After all, a confident mane is the ultimate accessory.

To know more about the "barbershop in Oak Park" "barbershop in Hyde Park" "barbershop in Eglinton" "worlds best barbershop in world". we recommend you to visit the Men Zone Barbershop, as it is the best barber shop to get barbering services in Canada.

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[universalinfo]

Portable Air Monitors for the Health-Conscious on the Move

As global awareness about environmental degradation continues to expand, it's becoming evident that it's not just the planet that's at stake, but our health too. This realization has pushed many to pursue a lifestyle that prioritizes wellness, both for themselves and the environment. The portable air monitor is becoming an indispensable tool for many in this pursuit.

Amidst the range of innovative tools and gadgets catering to this health-conscious demographic, the portable air monitor has emerged as a standout. With its ability to instantly analyze and report the purity of the air we breathe, it serves as a protective shield, ensuring we remain informed and safe from potential airborne hazards.

Delving Deeper: The Anatomy of a Portable Air Monitor

So, how does a portable air monitor work? Well, think of it as a tiny detective. It's small, often fitting comfortably in your hand. Inside, it has smart sensors. These sensors catch pollutants floating around. Now, with today's tech, it quickly reads this data. Within moments, it tells you about the air you're breathing. Simple, right? And super useful. So, with a quick glance, you know if your air is clean or not.

If you've ever experienced allergies, asthma, or other respiratory complications, you can appreciate the comfort of knowing what's in the air around you. Its size further adds to its appeal, making it a hassle-free companion for those always on the move.

The Argument for Owning One

Now, some might wonder, "Why do I need a personal air quality checker?" Here's the reality: The pace of urban development and industrial growth, though beneficial in many ways, has brought with it an unsavory side effect—polluted air. In many cities, it's become the invisible enemy, often going unnoticed until it starts affecting health. 

The portable air monitor acts as your personal sentinel, always on guard, ensuring you're not unwittingly inhaling harmful elements. Whether you're curling up with a book at home, grinding away in your office cubicle, or exploring a new city, this device remains by your side, keeping you informed. By using it, you're empowered to make better decisions, like seeking fresher air or activating purification systems, all aimed at preserving your health.

Choosing the Right Fit for Your Needs

As with any popular gadget, the market is teeming with options. So how do you pick the right portable air monitor for your needs? Start by understanding the range of pollutants it can detect. The most efficient ones can identify a wide array of contaminants, from particulate matter like PM2.5 and PM10 to gases and VOCs. A real-time update feature ensures you're getting current readings, and clarity in the display helps in quick comprehension. 

Furthermore, consider the longevity of the battery—after all, you wouldn't want your monitor dying in a potentially high-risk environment. Modern features such as connectivity to smartphones via Bluetooth or Wi-Fi and integration with mobile apps elevate the user experience, allowing for better tracking and analysis of collected data.

Optimizing Your Portable Air Monitor Experience

Just having a portable air monitor isn't the end game—it's about how you wield this potent tool in your daily life. For optimal results, it's crucial to be proactive. This involves more than just occasional glances; it means understanding and interpreting the data it provides. 

Thankfully, most of these devices are designed for ease of use, ensuring a smooth experience even for those who aren't particularly tech-savvy. Keeping a record of the data can provide rich insights, allowing you to discern patterns, recognize recurring pollution spikes, and maybe even pinpoint the culprits behind the pollution with Luft.

Versatility in Action

The beauty of the portable air monitor lies in its versatility. It caters to diverse groups of people, each with unique needs. Are you an avid jogger? This tool helps determine the best windows for your runs, ensuring you're inhaling the cleanest air possible. For parents, it's a silent guardian, ensuring the spaces where their children play and relax are free of harmful pollutants. 

The relevance of this device isn’t restricted to personal spaces; it extends to professional realms too. Workers, especially in fields like construction, transportation, or factories, often find themselves exposed to varying air quality. Here, the monitor serves as a reliable ally, ensuring their work environment remains safe.

Ensuring Longevity and Efficiency

While the portable air monitor is indeed a marvel of modern technology, it isn't self-sustaining. Like all gadgets, it thrives on regular maintenance. The sensors, which are at the heart of the device, need to remain clean and obstruction-free to deliver accurate readings. Just as we regularly update our smartphones and computers, it's imperative to stay updated with the latest software or firmware enhancements for the monitor. 

These updates can offer improved accuracy, new features, or bug fixes. And of course, a device is only as good as its power source. Regular charging ensures your monitor is always ready for action, ensuring you're never left in the lurch.

Conclusion

The world around us is continually changing, and so are the challenges we face. Air quality is a significant concern, but thankfully, innovations like the portable air monitor offer a tangible solution. By investing in one, you're not just buying a gadget; you're investing in your health, well-being, and peace of mind. So, for those health-conscious individuals always on the move, keeping a close eye on the air you breathe has never been easier or more essential. Breathe easy and stay informed!

Read More:

Air Quality Monitor

#portable air monitor #Air quality #Health #Air monitor

[locustonabench]

Time to review those other checkered past shows I've never seen before until now. Today is December 1st

Cow and chicken

It was widescreen (cropped, judging by the credits) for some reason and they forgot the [as] logo

I was not expecting cow to sound like if the English version of guilmon did a falsetto voice. It's really grating.

I am weasel (cow and chicken segment)

Baboon is even more grating because he way he is written to talk is like hulk, just with a voice performance akin to ed's

Weasel is the only saving grace actually

I am weasel (by itself)

WAIT it's airing by itself now the widescreen is fixed and the logo is back. Anyways

Is there no setting to this show???????? Is that the joke

FYI By weasel being the only saving grace I mean his voice is nice. Baboon is as unlikeable as Cheese from Foster's. And he is part of the main duo which means this show is Ass

I am weasel 🤝 Justice friends

Ass show segments with main characters that talk oddly and are thus insufferable

Oh and the devil thing doesn't FUCKING SHUT. UP.

Eh at least the plane invention ep was kinda funny.

Evil Con Carne (looking forward to this one the most)

Only dogshit gets to air properly. Cow and chicken gets cropped to 16:9 and Evil con carne gets 144p picture quality.

Eh. Wasn't expecting the redhead to have that accent. Besides that though, Wasn't too much of note. I prefer Villainous or even Grim.

[padmavatisteel]

Stainless Steel 410 Coils Suppliers In India

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[siddhantmani]

🌬️ AIToolMines Air Quality Checker: Breathe Easy, Stay Healthy! 🏙️

Breathe easy with AIToolMines Air Quality Checker! Simply enter any city, state, or country into the search box, and access vital air quality data. Discover concentrations and Air Quality Index (AQI) for pollutants like Carbon Monoxide (CO), Nitrogen Dioxide (NO2), Ozone (O3), Sulfur Dioxide (SO2), and Particulate Matter (PM) - PM10.

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[airsoftindia]

In the world of air rifles, few names carry the same prestige and legacy as Diana

In the world of air rifles, few names carry the same prestige and legacy as Diana. For over a century, Diana has been synonymous with precision, power, and innovation in the realm of airguns. If you're a shooting enthusiast or someone looking to explore the world of air rifles, the Diana Air Rifle is an excellent choice that deserves your attention.

A Legacy of Excellence

Diana's journey began in the late 19th century in Germany, where they quickly gained a reputation for crafting high-quality airguns. Over the years, they've continued to push the boundaries of what's possible in air rifle technology. The result is a line of air rifles that combine classic craftsmanship with modern innovation.

Precision Engineering

One of the standout features of Diana air rifles is their impeccable accuracy. Whether you're a competitive shooter or a casual plinker, hitting your target with precision is essential. Diana understands this better than anyone and has designed their rifles to excel in this regard.

Each Diana air rifle is crafted with meticulous attention to detail, ensuring that the barrel, trigger, and other critical components are perfectly aligned. This level of precision translates into exceptional accuracy downrange. Whether you're shooting targets or hunting small game, you can trust Diana air rifles to deliver consistent and reliable performance.

Power and Performance

While precision is vital, power is equally important when it comes to air rifles. Diana offers a wide range of models, each catering to different power needs. Whether you're looking for a rifle for target shooting, pest control, or even hunting larger game, there's a Diana air rifle to suit your needs.

Their models span the spectrum from lower-powered air rifles suitable for backyard plinking to high-powered magnum rifles capable of taking down larger game at considerable distances. This versatility makes Diana air rifles a favorite among shooters with diverse preferences and requirements.

Craftsmanship and Aesthetics

A Diana air rifle is more than just a tool; it's a work of art. These rifles are renowned for their elegant designs, fine wood stocks, and attention to aesthetics. Owning a Diana air rifle isn't just about function; it's about owning a piece of shooting history that's also visually appealing.

Diana's dedication to craftsmanship is evident in every detail. The beautiful stocks, precision checkering, and blued metalwork showcase the company's commitment to creating rifles that are both functional and aesthetically pleasing.

Innovative Technology

https://www.evernote.com/shard/s682/res/4cabe962-4ec2-5efb-381f-21e32df27427

Conclusion

In the world of air rifles, the Diana name stands as a symbol of excellence, precision, and power. With a legacy that spans over a century, Whether you're a seasoned marksman or a beginner looking to explore the world of airguns, the Diana air rifle offers an exceptional combination of precision engineering, power, craftsmanship, and innovative technology. Owning a Diana air rifle isn't just about owning a firearm; it's about embracing a tradition of excellence that continues to evolve and set new standards in the world of air rifles.

[art-of-manliness]

Sunday Firesides: Be a Ruthless Editor-in-Chief

For almost the entirety of the history of media, gatekeepers controlled what content made it into the purview of the public.  Editors and station managers determined what programs were broadcast on the air, what articles were included in magazines, and what books were published.  Today, the influence of these gatekeepers no longer dominates the media landscape. Anyone can push their message out to everyone else. This shift has had a distinct upside in democratizing the dissemination of all kinds of content (like, say, this independently published piece right here). But it has also had a definite downside in amplifying the quantity of content to an overwhelming degree and making its quality a far more checkered bag. In the age of gatekeepers, new content was released at a reasonable pace; someone could read their favorite magazines cover to cover, listen to/watch the limited number of available radio/television shows, and catch up on the latest books before the next batch of media arrived. And while what did get released was filtered through the taste of a select segment of the population, it had at least been vetted, edited, proofread, and fact-checked. Now, what was once a periodic stream of content has become an endless torrent. There exist millions of podcasts, more books than you could read in a dozen lifetimes, and the so-called “infinity pools” of social media, the bottoms of which can seemingly never be reached, no matter how much you scroll. And the caliber of all this available content varies wildly — from the putrid and awful to the thought-provoking and sublime.  In this post-gatekeeper era, no one is coming to turn down the faucet for you; the buck stops at the figurative desk of every individual. Every modern citizen must become their own editor-in chief, and must embrace this role and responsibility with the ruthlessness of the media titans of old — who issued far more rejection letters than acceptance notices. The foundation for the judgment of these editors rested on their understanding of and commitment to the mission of their periodical or publishing house. They wanted sales and popularity, of course, but the best also had a greater purpose: to inform the public, influence the culture, or propagate art that would stand the test of time.  If you feel like you’re drowning in the flood of modern media, it’s because you haven’t established this kind of clear purpose for your life. Once you do, you’ll develop a rubric of questions for evaluating what content you consume: Does this content move me closer to or further from my ultimate aim? If what we consume becomes our thoughts, our thoughts become our actions, and our actions become our character, can I give the things I watch, listen to, and read — the things I’m turning into — a grade of B or above? The lure of a compelling headline aside, does this topic actually interest me? Does this content educate and edify? And when I’m seeking pure entertainment, which everyone sometimes needs, does it at least not appeal to the most reptilian part of my brain, and make me feel lower, baser, and stupider as a result? An old-school paper made it its mission to publish all the news that was fit to print. As your own editor-in-chief, make it yours to fill the pages of your life with only the content that’s fit to pass through your mind, absorb into your spirit, and be given your precious time.  The post Sunday Firesides: Be a Ruthless Editor-in-Chief appeared first on The Art of Manliness. http://dlvr.it/SqrTR0