#they made the limit shorter

[andthebeanstalk]

Posting this here for receipts in case someone decides to steal this killer line of poetry I wrote for a spotify playlist description of all things (and which, together with the title, sounds like the heading of an essay that I would immediately want to read very badly):

#original #will wood #suburbia overture #playlist #I had to get real creative with the word limit because the third line got cut off on mobile every time #if anyone likes this enough to want to write an image description please do #i need to go to bed. #white culture #christianity cw #actively resisting the urge not to add all the catholic tags bc i KNOW that's a self-harming activity for real #if living in America hasn't made white Christians recognize that they have built their churches on the bones of thskr #*on the bones of their own botched divinity then this post sure won't #and then I'd have a bunch of people in the notes who want to argue but the argument always goes #- 'hey bud what about this huge logical fallacy in your own moral code?' - 'God said so.' - 'cool cool good debate everyone.' #anyway jesus is just a cop who puts all the bad people in the bad person hole - just like real cops. #there's a reason white christianity and white supremacy go hand-in-hand. #nobody's got a shorter memory for atrocities than the white catholic. #do you think we learned about residential schools at catholic school in my 99% white suburban township? #of course not! we didn't even learn about the crusades!! i learned about residential schools on tumblr at like age 27!!!! #fucking. chilling. that it took that long for me to find that out #i really really hate the culture i was raised in #our churches were filled with everything except divinity. - and also ANY people of color #in my 18 years of being forced to attend mass i NEVER saw a Black person in ANY of those buildings. #which is Fucking Weird. #I don't think I ever saw any people of color actually. i absolutely never spoke to anyone non-white before i was 11. #and i didn't have a full conversation with a Black person until i was like 16. we weren't okay. #there is a special kind of sickness to white culture that chokes out the soul of our own kindness. it's rank. it's rancid. #fuck your culture. i will exist in radical queer spaces til i die. #my parents are democrats btw. it wasn't a fundamentalist household. it didn't have to be. #we were told racism is bad but taught it was basically over. which is a great way to produce a shitload of racist white kids.

[titsthedamnseason]

my roommate cut my hair for me tonight and at first i was (secretly) sad because it is wayyyyy too short but then i realized. i literally just got the 1989 chop. like this was all meant to happen this way

#nooo bc like 😭 it is NOT her fault. it is entirely my fault #i have curly hair (maybe i should start straightening it just to fully live out the aesthetic lmao) and i made the rookie mistake of showing #her where i wanted it to fall when it was DRY #and on top of that obviously when it comes to hair cutting everyone is always doing too much #but my friend is soooo cautious and gets anxious about these things so i honestly thought she wouldn’t do enough #and would kind of ask me while doing it in increments #like last time when i had my roommate cut my hair i couldn’t even tell that she did ANYTHING #but anyway yeah she definitely went shorter than where i pointed which already was faulty in the first place because i forgot how much it #would curl up #i mean i’m actually happy because it’s been frustrating me how absolutely tangled it’s been getting so that’s a relief #but i’m mostly sad because it’s about to be halloween #and i wanted my dead ends GONE for halloween because i am being barbie. who has notoriously perfect hair! #and they definitely are but i also lost all my length #like i’m trying to tell myself it’ll grow back soon but the last time my hair was this short was maybe like two years ago #and i’ve missed my long hair so bad it was finally starting to come back #but now it’s gone again and i have to start all over ☹️ and my barbie hairstyle options are severely limited #i will probably do braided pigtails #mine

[cjgladback]

For the first time in a long while, I got to go to a white elephant gift exchange this December! We had a low price ceiling and my practically wins out over any practical joke sensibilities every time, so on the designated shopping day I left my local overstock store with a nice chopstick set, some fancy (not at all mess-free) popcorn, and a dream.

When I was growing up, my mom was an intrepid homeschooling parent who loved event planning, valued cultural exploration, and had married into a Japanese family. Multiple times - sometimes in the setting of a multicultural fair, at least once as a kind of class party (with celebratory takeout at the end) - she faced teaching large groups of children how to use chopsticks quickly and with as little cost and cleanup as possible.

Her answer was popcorn! It's edible, so you get the full motion down, and lightweight but large enough for less coordinated sticks to pinch. It has tons of nubbins to grab and widely varied shapes to experiment with. Specifically, we used air-popped kernels, without oil or toppings, so when it gets overzealously crushed or bounces away and gets missed by a broom, it's basically biodegradable styrofoam.

What I'm saying is, this is my mom's fault. Other than the choice to draw so many hands in one afternoon on the same day as the party, while also baking a snack. That's all me. This primer was delivered in the format of a tiny booklet (if you look up an "eight page zine" that's also a method I learned from my mom, to turn single-sided misprints into notepads), with fewer jokes and tips than I'd have liked because I simply did not have time to transcribe a hashi rest fold or hairstyle. But reformatted (for Mastodon) it looks fairly respectable.

Lengthy image descriptions and full poster format under the cut.

[ID: A title page reads "How to Use Chopsticks" in all caps. The words "without too much mess" are between two straight, orange lines, which start with round points at the left, evoking chopsticks, and end in flared shapes of a silhouetted splash on the right. Below the lower line are the words "by CJ Gladback." All the text is in black, the background is white but appears light orange due to a repeating geometric watermark pattern of CJ's logo in orange overlaid on the whole image; her handle on most sites is included once on each of the following spreads: @cjgladback​

Next is the first spread of four illustrations with their instructions. On the left half of page are two line drawings of a right hand holding one and then two chopsticks, with the text, "The first stick rests on the side of your ring finger's nail and the flesh between your thumb and index finger. Your middle finger's pad holds it securely while it can slide against your thumb as your hand changes posture in use. The second stick is held between the knuckle of your thumb and the middle section of your index finger. This is the one you move to change angles; it may touch but doesn't really rest on the middle finger's tip." In orange, two arrows indicate the rest points for the first stick while small hashes emanate from the points pressed on the middle and ring fingertips and under the thumb's joint holding the top stick. On the right upper quadrant of the page is the text "Hold them close to parallel to scoop." A hand holds two sticks poked into a bowl of rice between the viewer and the palm; a series of parallel orange lines emphasize the space between the sticks. The remaining quadrant's text reads, "Press with your index finger to pinch firmly." This hand is holding an indistinct rounded shape in its chopsticks, with an orange arrow indicating the rotation of the index finger's tip to press the top stick's point toward the bottom's.

Next is the final spread of the pamphlet. The upper right text reads, "Practice with something medium sized and low mess like (air-popped) popcorn." A single piece of popcorn is held in disembodied chopsticks above a full popcorn bowl, with several kernels fallen to the surface below it. Text below reads, "Pick up your dishes to bring close to your mouth to scoop the harder to grab foods." An implied tilted bowl of food (fried rice or porridge with diced pieces) protrudes off the page, covering only the lower left corner. Close-up chopsticks have their points buried in the food and their lines fade out toward the right. The final black text, underlined by two orange chopstick shapes, reads, "but most of all, do what feels comfortable and eat well!" In orange in the lower right corner, the parenthetical "(and maybe knit a scarf)" is followed by a small orange drawing of a steaming bowl of noodles and sliced egg with a noodle line trailing toward two upward angled sticks with loopy hashes indicating knit fabric hanging from them.

The final image is the full booklet in its web format, with the three previous images from this post stacked vertically. Some orange lines have been added between what were pages in the print booklet, to aid reading flow. /end ID]

#straight up ripping my entire caption from instagram cause (as you can see) i wrote it in a blogging mood #cj gladback #zine #how to #gift ideas #chopsticks #hashi #food #artists on tumblr #illustration #hold up -- once I uploaded multiple photos #not all at once but by clicking the ''add another'' button #THEN i can mouse over to add alt text? #or did the feature just finally reach me? #in the middle of starting this post #why would this be more captionable than the single image version of this #or the accidentally misordered sequence of these same files if i add them all at once #i want to understand but i do not #i guess since the little alt boxes started showing up on mobile relatively recently i could try scrolling back through the official pages #see if there's a full explanation of all processes #would expect the crowd i follow to have already reblogged and celebrated/critiqued if there were one but maybe they were busy #...and then i tried using my previous alt text copy pasta'd in there and it took about half of the first and shortest description so #i know i'm wordy but in this case it really only does its job for people who can't see it with a ton of description #could make it shorter but it would be a lot of editing time for probably still not getting it clear under the character limit #so hey have a clunky read more anyway #yep i started just typing the text on the pages and made it halfway through the second sentence #i'll try to remember to not complain about the lack of desktop alt text only very specific factors of it now #also having the read more gives me the excuse to share the full poster version of this without worrying about it being less legible #depending on the screen you're viewing from #gallery

[fellstcr]

⚔️ //  the  sword  of  the  creator  glowed  like  embers  alight  as  byleth  cut  down  one  foe  and  plunged  the  sacred  blade  through  the  chest  of  another.  they  were  GROTESQUE  ,   monstrous  creatures  a  mix  of   humanoid  and  twisting  foliage.  none  of  which  quite  acted  or  moved  on  their  own.  like  PUPPETS  on  a  string  ,  the  spriggan’s  movements  were  jagged  and  erratic.  easily  defeated  ...  were  it  not  for  the  sheer  scale  of  their  forces. 

             byleth  dispatched  of  another  creature  and  growled  ,  frustrated  ,  as  another  took  its  place.  her  footsteps  danced  backwards  across  the  dilapidated  castle  floors  ,  retreating  towards  her  house  leader  ,  who  was  similarly  occupied.  in  the  distance  ,  a  LOOMING  SHADOW  wove  between  the  ruined  castle  pillars.  enemy  commander.  but  as  byleth  turned  her  head  to  inform  her  ally  ,  she  found  only  him  surrounded  by  the  viney  wraiths.  one  was  closing  in  from  behind  ,  and  the  other  ...               the  spriggan’s  arm  extended  into  a  thorny  mass  of  razor-sharp  branches  and  clay.  its  body  coiled.  dimitri  roared  and  raised  his  lance.                      it  speared  through  dimitri’s  chest  first.

                                                    (  a  familiar  COLD  froze  byleth’s  veins. )

            were  time  a  tapestry  ,   then  it  was  the  will  of  the  goddess  that  tended  the  loom.  and  so  ,  like  so  many  times  before  ,  byleth  reached  out  and  unraveled  the  thread.             ethereal  flames  engulfed  her  sword’s  jagged  edges  ,  glowing  amber  and  gold  as  the  fight  played  out  once  more.  she  dodged  the  strike  of  an  incoming  attack.  spun  between  the  bodies  and  cast  divine  light  upon  their  enemies.  cried  out  as  the  monster  coiled  backwards  to  strike  at  her  student  once  more  ,  and  cast  forth  the  sublime  rage  of  the  heavens.  this  time  ,  her  sword  struck  first  ,   striking  the  light of  the  creature’s  pulsating  heart.  like  the  others  ,  it  crumpled  to  the  ground  with  a  clatter.

            “pull  back.”  byleth  ordered  ,  ducking  underneath  the  swing  of  dimitri’s  lance  only  to  knock  back  the  second  spriggan  that  dared  to  take  target  of  the  prince’s  back.  “they  have  a  leader  ,  but  i’ve  lost  his  position.”  FOOTSTEPS  THUNDERED  ,  and  byleth  swung  back  around  ,  positioning  HERSELF  between  dimitri  and  the  oncoming  onslaught. 

            “we  need  to  reorient  ;  find  higher  ground.”

@areadri​ / —  DOWN YOU GO .

#⚔️ ic. / crest of flames. #⚔️ thread. / closed. #areadri #areadri / o5 #event // down you go #(//sighs softly in 'set up makes things looonnnng') #(BUT i figured... right... they could have stumbled into an old castle and triggered an attack) #(figuuuured... since ch.14 deals w humans and not monsters) #(that the enemies could be an interesting mix of creepy plant monsters to fit the biome) #(but also if we wanted to... they could be likke... reanimated corpses or weir #- weird ghost-plant hybrids of old fallen soldiers or smthn) #(maybe the castle their in is an old battleground or sacred area...) #(we can - come up w specifics in dms ;;4;; but i wanted to leave it open ended to make them /creep/ #(*/creepy/ and dangerous ... while fitting in w the biome + ch 14... and loose enough that if u wanted to push dimi's limits) #(you could choose to) #(but also they could also just be made of funky druid-magic plants too uvu) #(also don't bother matching length ... if i wasn't attempting to set up enemy + byleth's M.O. this would be leagues shorter)

[garlic-sauc3]

no but isnt the whole point of the "why did the chicken cross the road" joke like anti-humor? like i keep seeing things that are like saying the Other Side but i thought that it was funny because people would expect something funny but by being given just the basic answer of "to get to the other side" because oh yeah thats obvious, which makes it funny in the bluntness of it. Like the original telling of the joke also seemed like anti-humor but everybody keeps saying its a suicide joke.

#like honestly i think it was supposed to be anti humor but got over used to the point that it not having a standard punchline #made it confusing #at least for me i didnt get it until recently #suicide tw #jic i guess #i really dont understand why people make it dark #because the fact that its told to so many kids im pretty sure its not #maybe thats just me ig #this ramble is presented to you by i only go on tiktok for the foraging and somehow i keep seeing people misunderstand things #is it just me or is the character limit shorter on the tags for computer #maybe i just type more idk #whatever just ignore me

[oqulis]

tiny ffxiv rant:

man it’s crazy how much shit in the cash shop is unusable for hroth/viera characters. like it’s silly to me in the first place that they have a cash shop for a game that is both buy-to-play past the free trial and then a monthly sub on top of that, but then 90% of the hats or hairstyles are unusable if you are one of two of the most popular playable races in the game. it’s even sillier because genuinely I think people would prefer if they could equip hats where the ears clip through awkwardly versus not being able to equip any at all. also why the fuck are hairstyles exclusive? doesn’t make any damn sense to me.

#like. there are several things I WOULD buy from the shop. easily $50 worth #if they weren’t gender locked or race limited #the whole gender locking thing is another can of worms. people used to praise this game for having equal armor #but a lot of items look different on different genders and a lot of event or paid stuff is gender locked #I would KILL for the fucking spider lily hairpin but that’s for ladies only #or for the shorter version of the ar-caean velvet bottoms of healing to be made a separate wearable item for either gender to wear #:(

[snekdood]

i just think hes neat

#im basically just broly if he was smaller and shorter and whinier with elf ears #so what im saying is im basically broly and kish fused dsfnbvsvdhgfshgdgfhv #kish minus all the weird creepy shit #maybe links in there too. oh oh and beast boy obvs. #idk who else #maybe a hint of goku bc im worried i have the same dumb drive to challenge myself and push my limits or whatever #at least i wont endanger my family............................................................ right? right??? #my bf was wondering why i identify w broly bc of him blowing up that one planet or whatever #(never mind the entire galaxy he blew up tho ig) but thats obviously not the reason. #its the whole 'becoming an invincible destructive force of nature that has bouts of wanting to Break Things often and usually bc #of being pushed to that edge by other people' thing #you dont get it u-u i need to go to one of those places where i can SMASH shit u--u. im just that kinda guy u---u. #and sometimes it is fun to imagine smashing ur enemies even though you probably would never do that and in fact imagining it #satisfies you enough kinda deal yaknow #as cheesy and on brand as it is for me rn i just love destroying shit and i always have im sorry im this way blame god ik i have been #maybe he shouldnt have made the sound of rocks crumbling and glass breaking etc sound so good huh? ya ever think of that?? #anyways i find when i suppress these emotions it just boils up until i explode which i think only leads to more of a chance of me actually #hurting someone instead. when i pretend to be cute and flowery and people pleasey- it only makes me more resentful. but thats the #only version of me people seem willing to tolerate. and i dont think they realize how much THAT makes me resent them too #im not an innocent frail delicate uwu bean i will literally eat you 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪 #idk. its not like i want ppl to fear me either. but sometimes it feels like thats the only way to stop ppl from disrespecting me #maybe if ppl didnt assume me being nice and Not trying to start fights is a sign of being weak maybe i wouldnt feel like its necessary #to intimidate ppl to scare them away from me. #i promise babe you are Not getting away with it- i just know better not to start a scene. especially among other whities like me #yall will be vocally violent about whoever behind their backs over and over and if im the guy who actually confronts you suddenly im #the only one being an asshole. im simply playing YOUR game with you. you wanna be dishonest and hide behind a fake smile then so will i #and ill just sit here and wait until you break. and then everyone can call you crazy and confrontational instead! #i hate white people (yes ik i am a white people... doesn't mean i cant hate the way a lot of white ppl act) #things could be so much easier if you weren't a coward and just spoke your mind about how you distrust me and how quick you were #to find reasons to back up your mistrust. we coulda ended it there and avoided eachother. but now we gotta pretend we like eachother ig.

[lupizora]

I've been thinking of moving some of my Twitter threads with my fandom ramblings over here for some time now. But I'm not sure how exactly to go about it because most of them are short and unconnected with each other to have them in one post 🤔

#wolf trying to be funny #personal #I just wanna treat this as a blog but I never really understood how tbh #I sorta used my Twitter account as a diary/rant place because the word limit is shorter #Tumblr's bigger word count limit always made think my posts should be well-thought and properly articulated 😅

[uyuuma]

“ YOU DON'T HAVE TO PRETEND ”

jjk!men x fem!reader ღ MDNI.

❥ summary. jjk men's reaction to you faking your orgasm. because real men make sure that you finish first (among numerous times) .

❥ warnings. nsfw, female anatomy, cunnilingus, fingering, toy use, use of pet names, biting, orgasm denial, choking, mentions of overstim, etc.

❥ a/n. writing some shorter form stories for the ADHD girlies (aka me) also writing this for the girlies who struggle to finish from someone else's hands (aka me again)

❥ wc. 3.4k

──★ 𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚄 𝙶𝙾𝙹𝙾

Gojo looked at you with a puzzled expression as you panted heavily. His confused expression turned into a slight grin as he pulled his sopping wet fingers out of your cunt.

"Princess, you don't have to lie to me." He cooed, moving his other hand to cup your cheek softly.

He climbed on top of you, caging you against the bed. His silky white hair falling over his eyes as he scanned your gorgeous body.

"I'll always make sure you cum first." Gojo soothed, wiping some of the sweat off of your forehead. "There's no need to rush, I want you to enjoy every second of this."

"H-how'd you know that I-"

"I can always tell." Gojo blurted before you could finish your sentence. "I'm not sure how many men had let you down before me, but you can stop putting up an act with me." Gojo assured with a slight chuckle.

Your face heats up, seeing his bright blue eyes peer into your soul as he waits quietly.

"Okay?" He asked, his eyes unwavering from yours.

"Okay." You murmured, pussy still aching from his touch.

"Good girl." He smiled, kissing you on the forehead. He then sent his hand to glide against your soft stomach, down to your twitching pelvis.

"Let's try this again, this time no pretending." Gojo said teasingly, fingers already parting your slick folds.

You gave a slight nod at his words but quickly gasped after feeling his slender fingers enter you once more. He buries his middle and ring finger to the knuckle and curls them ever so slightly, making sure to massage you tight walls.

Your eager hips buck against his wrist, wanting that ever-elusive orgasm that men had failed to get you to reach before. You realized that Gojo was very different from your past partners, he actually took his time to find every spot that made you twitch and spasm uncontrollably. The places inside you that made you whimper and cry out his name. He truly understood your body and its needs and was willing to give himself an arm workout if it meant you cumming all over his fingers.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head from him moving his free hand to rub circles around your sensitive clit. His fingers pumped in and out of your soaking pussy rapidly, helping you build up that wonderful pressure in your core. His thumb swirled atop your bud causing you to instinctively rock your hips to the rhythm. This, combined with the dizzying pace of his fingers stroking your sweet spot, made you reach your limit.

You arched your spine suddenly, violently shaking as you threw your head back. It felt as if the weight of the world was lifted off your shoulders as waves of your orgasm came crashing down.

"C-cumming!" You sobbed out, this time really meaning it. Your knees buckled and your hands latched onto the sheets, your knuckles turning white from the sheer power of your grip.

Gojo watched as you became completely undone by his hands and grinned in satisfaction. He continued to thrust his fingers in and out, letting you ride out your high as long as possible.

"Good girl." He preened. "See, I knew you were a vocal one." He said in a sly tone.

"Now, how about my turn?" Gojo asked as he slid his underwear down, revealing a fluffy patch of white from below his belt.

──★ 𝚂𝚄𝙶𝚄𝚁𝚄 𝙶𝙴𝚃𝙾

Geto raised his brow in suspicion as you twitched and whined against his tongue. Your rapid breathing and shaky voice tried to make it seem like you came, but it was not fooling Geto.

"Are we acting all of the sudden?" Geto scoffed as you softly let go of his hair. He looked up at you from between your legs. His eyes narrowed when your gaze met his.

"W-what are you talking about?" You muttered, propping yourself up against the pillow.

"Well with how over-the-top your acting was it felt like I was in a porno." Geto jokes, his hands still holding onto the plush of your thighs.

Ooh, busted.

"Sorry Sugu, I just didn't want to make you wait forever." You confessed shamefully, your eyes looking away from him.

"I'd wait however long it took for you to cum all over my tongue, sweetheart." Geto comforted you, his hand reaching to brush against your flushed cheeks.

"Your pleasure is just as important as mine, never forget that baby." Geto's voice sounded like honey as he gave you a reassuring smile.

"Are you sure? It takes me a while to cum..." You asked with a slight pout. You weren't sure if he could actually eat you out for that long without getting sick of waiting.

"Well, if you focused more on your orgasm instead of worrying about me, you'd probably feel a lot better." Geto scolded you with a somewhat annoyed expression on his face.

"Okay, okay. I'll focus on myself this time." You surrendered, feeling the cold air blow against your exposed cunt. The saliva that he had previously left on you made you shiver.

"Good, now lay down and relax." Geto instructed, parting your legs so that he could continue where he left off.

Geto took a second to admire your cute little pussy before he sunk his slick tongue back into your warmth. The way you tasted made his body tingle, he couldn't help but get messy when it came to eating you out.

He used both of his thumbs to spread your cunt, giving him access to your hole, stuffing his tongue as deep as it could go. His tongue expertly thrusted into you, making you arch your back from the sensation. You could feel his hot breath against your clit as he tongue-fucked you for all you were worth.

You had no idea someone could be this skilled with just their tongue, but here you were. You could no longer control your bottom half as you writhed in absolute bliss. Your thighs definitely would've clenched around his head if his grip on you wasn't so strong.

Your eyes fluttered as you bit your lip, the sensation of your orgasm starting to build up. Your thoughts were no longer filled with worries, all you could think about now was how sweet that release was going to feel.

"Mmh, fuck..." You slurred out, your legs quivering from the immense pleasure. You swore you could pass out from how amazing he was making you feel.

He started to thumb your clit carefully, being tactful to find the perfect rhythm for you. When he heard your pants and whines become louder, he knew to continue with his unrelenting pace.

He groaned against your cunt, absolutely obsessed with the way you tasted and sounded. He wanted more of it, he needed more of it.

His tongue plunged sloppily into your hole, his drool running down your thighs and cunt, collecting onto the sheets.

He felt no shame devouring you, in fact it turned him on more that you were making a complete mess of his face. He almost forgot that the whole point was to make you cum, he was just having fun at this moment.

However, your abrupt squeal and the iron grip you had on his hair brought him back to reality. He looked up at you through half-lidded eyes and saw your face contorting in ecstasy. The way your mouth hung open as a silent scream was caught in your throat, it made him smile. This was a real orgasm, you didn't need to say anything to convince him that.

Your body tensed as you came down from your high and then went limp in an instant. Your dazed expression made Geto grin, he was so proud of you for finishing.

Geto wiped the slick from his mouth and got up to crawl over you. "Good job, baby." He praised while hovering over you.

"Since you're already nice and prepped, let's take care of this." Geto said, referring to his painfully hard erection. You looked down to see that he was ready for round two, precum already dripping onto your thigh.

──★ 𝙲𝙷𝙾𝚂𝙾 𝙺𝙰𝙼𝙾

Something didn't seem right about how you shuddered under his touch. He could sense a bit of apprehension in your body movements. Your mouth may have told him you came, but your body betrayed that sentiment.

"I want to make you actually cum." Choso remarked disappointingly. His fingers were skilled and he did make you feel wonderful, but you were really tense and he needed to figure out how to get you to relax more.

"What do you mean, Cho?" You asked sheepishly, your eyes giving away the truth to him.

"Babe, I know you didn't really cum. Your body is as stiff as a board." Choso observed how you looked away in guilt as he said that.

"Yeah, I'm just feeling a little nervous. But, I wanted you to know that I'm still enjoying it either way." You admitted finally. You picked at your nails unknowingly, trying to find a way to break the tension.

"It's okay baby, we can take this at your own pace." Choso responded sweetly, he reached up to pet your head. He gave you a kiss on the forehead and comforted you a little more.

His caresses and soft lips help you control your breathing a little more. You took a deep breath to release the nervousness within your body.

"Tell me, how do you normally get yourself to cum?" Choso questioned politely. His eyes lovingly scanned your expression to see if your demeanor has changed.

"Normally, I use my vibrator." You responded meekly, you could feel your face heat up from the confession of using a toy.

"Can you show me?" Choso insisted, his tired eyes gazed into yours.

"Okay." You agreed, turning over to dig through your nightstand. You found your bullet vibrator and held the button down to power it on. It buzzed quietly on the lowest setting, Choso's eyes following it as you moved.

You moved it so that it could pulse against your clit. The way you jolted from the sudden stimulation made Choso watch intensely. He was enamored with the way your body reacted to such a small toy.

Choso then slid his fingers against yours while you held the vibrator steady against your clit. He wrapped his fingers around it, indicating he wanted to hold it for you.

You let go and instinctively cover your mouth with that same hand. Seeing his eyes hungrily watch your trembling body made you feel so vulnerable. But it felt so good this time, not as nerve wracking as before. Perhaps it was because the vibrator made you loosen up.

Choso turned up the toy to the next level, the buzzing becoming slightly louder. You whimpered in response to this and it made him smile in success.

You could feel heat build in your core, a familiar and very welcomed sensation that made your thoughts fade to nothing. All that was on your mind now was the handsome man between your legs.

Your eyes closed as you focused on the intoxicating high you were on. This was short lived however, since the lewd feeling of his tongue dragging against your thigh made your eyes widen. You gasped, looking down at Choso.

Choso lovingly kissed and licked your right thigh, his arm wrapped around it as your calf dangled behind his shoulder. His right hand steadily pushed the toy against your throbbing clit, applying a pressure so heavenly you swore you started to see clouds.

Your whines and desperate moans were like music to his ears, it made Choso turn up the toy once more.

You shuddered, feeling the vibrations start to reverberate in your spine. It was enough to make your jaw go slack, your breathing much more audible.

Choso nipped at your flesh, making you squeak from the sudden shock. You looked down to see a little hickey left on your inner thigh. It was so fucking hot that you babbled out to Choso, begging him to continue.

He heard you loud and clear, this time sinking his teeth fully into your skin. This bite felt less sharp, but it covered much more space than the first nip. It made you mewl so beautifully, he was becoming drunk off of your moans.

He continued to bite and suck at your supple flesh, leaving bruises and bitemarks along your inner thighs. The twinge of pain mixed with the pleasure from the vibrator made your babbling much more incoherent.

You could feel your orgasm reach the edge, you bit down onto your fist to stop yourself from screaming out Choso's name for the entire neighborhood to hear.

"Gonna cum!" You choked out while biting onto your fingers. Your body convulsed under the immense stimulation, your final squirms made Choso bite down hard. Your head tilted back as you rode your high, you could feel each bite and bruise throb while you cried out his name.

Choso planted a few soft kisses against the teeth marks he left on your plush thigh. He clicked the vibrator off and placed it back on your nightstand.

He admired the work that he had done and how your pussy glistened from all of the slick that you produced. You felt him rest his cock against your sore thigh.

Clearly, he wasn't done yet.

──★ 𝚃𝙾𝙹𝙸 𝙵𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙶𝚄𝚁𝙾

Toji looked at you with an unamused expression as you tried to convince him of your 'very real' orgasm. His eyes looked at you scathingly, like he was done with your shit.

"I was kind enough to getcha all prepped n' shit just for you to go and fake your orgasm?" Toji seethed while giving you a searing glare.

"Ungrateful slut." He smirked, grabbing your jaw with a vice grip. His fingers dug into your cheeks, making your face become sore.

"Mmmshorryy Toji..." You cried out in a panic. You knew better than to try and fool Toji, you were really in for it now.

"So ya think I'm stupid or somethin'? Huh, is that it?" He sneered, your eyes fixated on the scar across his lips. You could see in how the corners of his mouth moved to show his teeth, that he wasn't playing any games with you right now.

"Ffforgib me Toji." You begged out, your cheeks still smushed tight while in his grip.

"I'll think about it. After I punish you for being so greedy." Toji said maliciously, his gritted teeth turning into a wide grin. That grin never meant anything good, for you anyway.

"Since you don't wanna cum so bad... get on top of me." Toji ordered, flipping your positions so that he was laying on his back, sitting up on the pillows, you awkwardly hovering over him.

He hooked his large finger into the waistband of his sweats and in one swift motion slid his pants and underwear down far enough to let his cock free.

His cock was heavy, but still bounced a bit from being constrained. He gave it a few pumps with his own fist and then let it rest against his stomach.

He moved his arms behind his head, letting his elbows point outwards as he rested his arms against the headboard.

"Grind against it." He commanded, watching you hover over his cock with a dumbfounded expression.

You swallowed the saliva stuck in your throat and lowered your cunt so that it rested on Toji's cock. You could feel his cock throb against your clit and it made you whine pathetically.

"Fuck, I can feel you pulse against me. Dirty bitch." Toji groaned as he felt your pussy coat him in your slutty juices. He moved his arm from behind his head to grip onto your waist. His motions were languid and slow, showing how little work he was going to put into this.

"Thought I told you to move." He commented in an irritated tone. He bucked his hips up to get you to wake the fuck up.

You propped yourself up onto your hands and knees on top of him, your hands holding you up against his chiseled abs. You dragged your hips up and down, his thick cock sliding against your slit. Your clit was stimulated from the grinding and it made you shudder in pleasure.

He grunted, watching how your little pussy struggled to just grind against his girth. He could feel himself grow impatient, he wanted to just stuff you full with his cock right now. But that would be letting you win, so he dealt with the urge.

You began to roll your hips, eyes fluttering as you became lost in that tight feeling growing in your stomach. God... it was so close, you could practically feel your release as if it was on the tip of your tongue. Your breathing became rigid as you sunk against Toji.

You gripped onto his shoulders now, eyes darting into the back of your head, your lewd mouth agape as you came close to euphoria. He loved watching you become desperate, rutting against him like a damn puppy in heat.

"God...Toji m'gonna-"

"Nope. You don't get to cum anymore." Toji denied, his face had a sinister expression. He gripped onto your waist, forcefully slowing down your hips.

You let out such a pitiful whine, it almost made him laugh.

"Whine all you want baby, but we're gonna do this till you learned your lesson." Toji assured you.

"Now, beg for me to let you cum." He snickered.

──★ 𝚁𝚈𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽 𝚂𝚄𝙺𝚄𝙽𝙰

"The fuck was that?" Sukuna barked, not buying into your theatrics for one second.

"Suku, is something the matter?" You stuttered, your heart dropping to your stomach from the shift in his voice alone.

"Do you take me for a fucking fool?" He chided, his hand gripped onto your oversized t-shirt, pulling you up so that your faces could get up and personal.

"Suku... No I-"

"Shut up woman, spare me your pathetic excuses." Sukuna released his grip on your shirt, causing you to fall back onto the bed.

You could feel your breath become caught in your throat, knowing he wasn't letting this transgression slide.

"Did you really think of me as one of your miserable, inadequate partners from before?" Sukuna sneered, obviously offended by the very insinuation.

"I could get you to cum 100 times before anyone could even manage once." He boasted, his brows furrowed into a scowl. How dare you underestimate the King of Curses like that.

You knew better than to interrupt him when he was irritated. So you kept your lips sealed, only nodding or shaking your head in response to his bellowing.

"In fact, that's a great idea isn't it?" Sukuna asked in a husky tone. His scowl turned into an evil smirk as a plan hatched in his head.

"Why don't we make you cum so many times that you pass out? Maybe then you'd understand how easily your body crumbles under my touch." Sukuna spoke aloud. Though it seemed as if he was speaking to you, it was more like him vocalizing his inner thoughts. You knew you had no real say in the matter.

It wasn't long until he was stuffing your pussy full of his giant fingers. Just two was enough to stretch you out, your walls being massaged in short and quick bursts. He pumped his fingers at an almost inhuman pace, you lost count of how many times you came by now.

Your legs couldn't keep up with his thrusts, they just dangled uselessly off of the sides of the bed. You lost count of time, you weren't sure if it had been ten minutes or three hours at this point.

All you knew was that the grip Sukuna kept on your throat as he fucked you stupid made you become lightheaded.

He squeezed your throat just enough to make you choke on your sobs and pleas for him to slow down, but not hard enough to make you pass out. No, that was too good for you, you deserved to keep cumming until you physically couldn't anymore.

Your voice became hoarse, raspy whines being let out each time you inevitably orgasmed again and again.

"Aren't I so generous? My little whore disobeyed me and yet I still rewarded her precious body with my touch." Sukuna gloated, watching your hazy eyes and shallow breathing in satisfaction.

"So...generous." You sputtered, words barely coherent at all.

Although his methods may be relentless, Sukuna was very generous. He gave you more than anyone else had ever before.

#jjk #jjk smut #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #choso kamo #choso smut #choso x reader #female reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto smut #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen x reader

[steddiealltheway]

If someone told Steve four years ago that he would be at a gay bar with Robin Buckley and Eddie Munson, he would have laughed in their face.

Actually, if Steve really thinks about it, he would’ve been nervous that the person found out he was secretly hooking up with Eddie Munson.

But that was forever ago, and although he and Eddie had a nasty falling out, things changed. More like, they both changed. And after practically co-parenting a teenager along with a reunion in a creepy alternate dimension that nearly killed Eddie, it seemed like their fate was sealed and they would always be bonded together.

Steve really didn’t mind honestly. Actually, he has enjoyed getting to know Eddie all over again while not simultaneously trying to get in his pants. Sure, Eddie would flirt with him every now and then (at least a couple times a day), and Steve would maybe flirt back sometimes (most of the time unless the kids were in earshot). But things were different now. Even though Eddie admitted that Steve had changed, it didn’t mean he would ever forgive him for cruelly breaking things off when Steve found himself experiencing actual feelings for Eddie all those years ago.

So, Steve forces him to accept that times have changed and he likely missed his chance. Currently, he settles on leaning back against the bar, nursing a fruity drink that Eddie jokingly bought him before he made his way to the dance floor and eyed everyone around him.

Steve finds his hand tightening around the glass in his hand as he’s rudely reminded of how he’s an unfortunately jealous person. But Eddie isn’t his boyfriend. Eddie really isn’t his anything except a friend. So he's not allowed to feel like his skin is crawling when he finds a few people staring at Eddie with interest.

Steve distracts himself as he glances over to where Robin is in a secluded corner, giving a shorter girl heart eyes as they both get lost in some conversation. Steve smiles and glances away, giving Robin some privacy while simultaneously keeping tabs on her.

When he looks away, his eyes betray him by settling on Eddie who now has his arms wrapped around some man with blonde hair, probably a little older than Eddie but much shorter. All Steve can think about is how Eddie is out of his league and deserves better, and he wishes he could tell him that.

But then, something weird happens. Eddie glances over his shoulder at Steve, eyebrows raised as if he's looking for Steve for approval. So, Steve goes with his gut and shakes his head, and sees Eddie turn back and slowly untwine himself from the man as if taking Steve's advice to heart.

And shit, Steve doesn't know what to do with that so he orders another drink - this time a beer that he's had before so he knows his limit - and sits on a barstool, getting comfortable as he watches over Eddie.

He sees a taller guy with various piercings make his way over to Eddie, smoothly coming up behind him and gently placing his hands on his waist, dancing along with him. Steve takes a deep swig of the beer, trying not to think too hard of the last few weeks of his and Eddie's short-lived almost relationship when Eddie started getting more comfortable with him and would dance wildly around his room to whatever metal album he had on repeat that week. And Steve would just sit back on Eddie's bed and watch him, laughing when Eddie would pause to take a breather, and laughing even harder when Eddie insisted he danced with him.

But now, he isn't dancing in that wild way that used to be familiar to Steve. No, Eddie's leaning into the man's touch, emphasizing the beat with the smooth yet sharp movement of his hips. A muscle in Steve's jaw jumps as he wonders when Eddie learned to dance like that. And who got to witness it and be subject to it after Steve.

He nearly stands up to use the restroom or go outside to get a breather when Eddie looks right up at him, eyes slightly hooded as he takes a deep breath in and raises his eyebrows while still dancing with the man.

And Steve finds himself shaking his head. He can do better. He deserves so much better than the man clearly trying to get in his pants, not even bothering to make conversation other than whatever he filthily whispers in Eddie's ear every so often.

But Eddie does the same as before, and slowly pulls away from the guy, only to gravitate toward someone else.

It's a cycle that's intoxicating to Steve. If he leaves, he risks Eddie ending up with anyone who isn't him, but as he watches, he learns a whole other side of Eddie that he wants to explore on his own. But with it all comes the painful jealousy that Steve is sure is reading across his face and steering quite a few people away from him.

He takes a deep breath and glances back toward Robin's corner, finding that she's moved on from talking with the girl to getting to know her a little more... intimately.

Steve glances away, no longer feeling the same happiness as he did for her before. God, his jealousy is consuming his entire being as it practically courses through his veins. He wants to be like Robin tonight, but he wants the other person to be Eddie.

He feels his heart skip a beat at the realization. Of course, he knew he was jealous of Eddie showing interest in other people, but Steve hadn't realized how much he was still interested in Eddie. And not just the old Eddie but the one he's come to know and has developed feelings for all over again.

Shit.

"Hey."

Steve startles a bit as Eddie practically appears in front of him breathing deeply as if he hasn't quite caught his breath yet. He has a thin veil of sweat covering his face and neck that he wipes at with a napkin he grabs from the bar. "You enjoying the view?"

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s a bit frustrating when I know you can do better.”

Eddie leans against the bar and props up a foot on the bottom ledge of his barstool. “It’s hard when the person judging seems to think that I can do better than everyone in this bar.”

“You're right,” Steve says before finishing off his beer and setting it down on the counter. “But maybe there’s someone here that’s just right for you. That wouldn’t just treat you to one night and leave.”

Eddie narrows his eyes and leans in closer. “And tell me, who do you have in mind to fill that role?”

Steve breathes out, “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Eddie’s mouth twists into a frown before he grabs Steve’s hand and practically yanks him off the stool, dragging him in the direction of the bathroom nearby.

“Wait,” Steve says before they make it to the door. “Let me just…” He turns and glances toward where Robin is, thanking their platonic soulmate connection for causing her to break the kiss she’s in the middle of and glance at Steve. Her brows furrow as she takes in the situation, but Steve shoots her a cautionary thumbs up which she enthusiastically returns before giving a cautionary okay? hand sign which Steve responds to quickly nodding before he turns back to Eddie. “Okay, we’re good now.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re long lost twins or something,” Eddie mutters as he pulls Steve to the bathroom and looks around before locking the door behind them. “Now what the hell was that back there?”

“I was checking in on Robin.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Eddie says, crossing his arms as he stalks into Steve’s space. “The staring and acting as if you’re about to murder anyone who comes into contact with me.”

Steve puts his hands on his hips. “Yeah, maybe I’m a little protective after you nearly fucking died.”

“No, that’s not what this is about,” Eddie huffs out. He runs a hand over his face and states, “We’ve never talked about it - what we’ve been through before all of the stuff with the Upside Down and all that other confidential bullshit. But now you start spewing poetry about people being right for me, and what, you imply that I’m supposed to think of you as that person? If you wanted that so bad then why didn’t you go out there and dance with me yourself?”

Steve lets the question sink in for a moment before he replies, “Because, after everything that we don’t talk about, I thought the last thing you would want is for me to be that person.”

“Then why are you pushing it now?”

Steve runs a hand through his hair and bursts out, “Because I want you to want me to be that person! And I want to be that person."

"And why should I believe that?" Eddie asks, stepping closer to him and Steve finds his back pressed into the wall. "After you told me that I meant nothing to you. That I was just your failed experiment because King Steve doesn't like boys. Do you really think I don't remember everything you said?"

"Do you think I don't remember everything I said, and maybe that I lied, and I've regretted my words since the second I said them to you? Do you think I enjoyed telling you it was stupid for you to think you ever meant anything to me?" Steve asks, leaning into Eddie's space, face scrunching up at the words he remembers saying all too well.

"Then why did you say all of it?" Eddie asks cocking his head to the side, eyes flashing briefly with something that looks like hope that he quickly covers up with anger.

Steve takes a deep breath and gently puts his hands on Eddie's shoulders as he explains, "Because I was scared. I was fucking terrified because I started falling for you, and I couldn't stop it. I woke up every damn morning thinking about you, and I felt like I wasn't okay until I saw you and got to talk to you. I just wanted things to be physical, but they were never that simple. And I was a fucking asshole who didn't know what to do. I just needed to end it somehow, and that was the only way I knew how. And I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm so fucking sorry." Steve feels tears sting at his eyes and he fights to not pinch at his nose. He needs Eddie to know how much he regrets everything.

Eddie stares at him for a few seconds in silence. His eyes search his, flicking back and forth between each eye before he slowly backs away and curses under his breath.

Steve squirms a bit under his gaze and finally sighs and asks, "What are we doing in here, Eds? Why did you bring me here?"

Eddie shakes his head and runs his hands over his face before pacing back and forth. "I don't know," he says quietly. "I don't know!" he practically yells before rambling on, "I know you've changed, and I know you're different. And for some reason, I just wanted to open old wounds and see if I could make you jealous or some shit. Wanted to make you see what you're missing out on, but I don't know!" Eddie sighs sharply and stops pacing to look directly at Steve. "I wanted to know if you felt the same," he says quietly before laughing humorlessly, "But I didn't realize how much old shit it would bring up. You did a fucking number on me, you know?"

Steve looks down at the ground and feels a tear slip down his cheek. "I know, Eddie. If I could go back and change things, I would in a heartbeat." And it's true. God, he wishes more than anything he could go back and change so many damn things. He wipes angrily at the next tear that escapes down his cheek, willing it to all stop.

"Steve," Eddie says gently.

Steve sighs and wipes at both of his eyes before glancing up at him. "Yes?"

"Do you mean it?" Eddie asks.

"Mean what exactly?"

Eddie steps closer and fidgets with his rings. "All of it."

Steve nods. "I'm pretty sure I was in love with you back then, and..." he takes a deep breath before admitting, "I'm pretty sure I still am now." He swallows and continues, "You coming back into my life was one of the best things to happen to me, and I wish it was under better circumstances but... I don't regret where we are now."

Eddie takes a few steps toward him before he pulls Steve into a hug and whispers, "I don't regret where we are now either."

Steve pulls Eddie in tighter, trying to hold onto him as if he never let him go. "I'm so sorry."

"I know, Steve," Eddie says, sounding a bit choked up. "You have no idea how much I missed you. I know we've talked and everything as if nothing happened, and I told you you've changed but... you also haven't." He pulls back and grabs Steve by the shoulders. "The guy I fell in love with is that same guy you are today. You were always good deep down, and god, by the end of everything you were so good to me. I nearly called you out on your bullshit when you broke things off, but instead, I spiraled and thought maybe it was all true."

"Nothing I said was true, but everything we had was real," Steve insists.

Eddie takes a deep breath and asks, "And everything we have now... is that real too?"

Steve nods and cups Eddie's face in his hands. "Yes, and I would do anything to be enough for you and make up for everything I should've done."

"Steve," Eddie says, looking at him questioningly, "Kiss me."

Although it's requested in a weird tone, Steve nonetheless leans in and kisses Eddie, trying to pour into the kiss all of his regret and hope as muscle memory kicks in and he carefully traces a thumb against his cheek, his show of gentle affection and genuine love.

The kiss breaks when Eddie smiles and lightly laughs. It's now Steve's turn to look at him questioningly.

"Sorry," Eddie says still smiling widely. "You used to do that thing with your thumb only when you would kiss me without trying to get into my pants."

Steve sighs and thuds his head against Eddie's shoulder. "I didn't even realize. Shit, I was such an asshole."

"You know, it wasn't entirely bad when you did get into my pants," Eddie flirts easily.

Steve laughs softly, feeling the comfortable atmosphere between them that they've recently built. He glances up and flirts back, "Oh, I remember."

Eddie smiles, showing off his dimples before staring at Steve for a few seconds as if considering him. “Should we really do this again?”

Steve grabs Eddie’s hand. “Only if you want to.“

Eddie huffs out a silent laugh. “I really want to.”

“Well that’s great because I do too,” Steve lightly jokes. “But it’ll be different this time, okay? No hiding. None of me being an asshole or trying to hide my feelings.”

“I like the sound of that,” Eddie says with a bright smile. “And I promise to call you out on your bullshit this time around, and I won’t doubt things.”

"I like the sound of that," Steve says with a wink.

There's a loud pounding sound on the bathroom door that startles Steve and Eddie away from each other. Eddie smiles sheepishly. "Should've chosen a different spot to talk."

"All my important conversations seem to happen in a bathroom," Steve replies with a shrug. He runs a hand through his hair and asks, "You ready?"

Eddie hesitates and replies, "I just need to do one thing." He rushes to Steve and cups his face, kissing him deeply before pulling away with a smile. "Okay, I'm good now."

Steve laughs and grabs his hand before unlocking and opening the door.

To both of their surprise, they find Robin on the other side. She looks at their faces then their intertwined hands and sighs in relief, "I thought you killed each other."

Eddie frowns. "You thought that first instead of thinking we were having a quickie?"

"One, gross," Robin says with a frown, "Two, if you guys were having a quickie, Steve wouldn't have checked in on me first."

"Hey-"

Robin holds her finger up at Steve. "Nope, we both know it's true, but it looks like you guys figured things out?"

Steve smiles and looks at Eddie. "I think we did."

"We definitely did," Eddie confirms with a cheesy grin.

"Thank god. Just a warning that the kids may have been taking bets on when you would finally get together," Robin says with a smile before leaning in and saying, "Give it another week and Max will win instead of Dustin."

Steve asks Eddie, "Are you okay with temporarily hiding things again?"

"To make sure Dustin doesn't win that bet? Hell yeah."

Steve squeezes his hand and says, "Maybe we can take a week to ourselves or something. I don't know if I'll be able to keep it a secret for that long."

Eddie's gaze softens as he squeezes Steve's hand back. "I like the sound of that."

In the end, Dustin nearly wins the bet when Steve finds himself unable to resist calling the kids to tell them the news, but Eddie is able to quickly intercept the call as he blasts his music and dances around to distract Steve. And when he says, "Come dance with me," Steve can only promise to call back Dustin later.

As Steve joins him, laughing as hard as he once did before, he can only wonder what would happen if someone told him four years ago that he would end up with Eddie Munson after all.

He thinks he would be a whole mix of emotions. But relieved is one of the main ones that comes to mind.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #i feel like it's been a while #but im glad to finally get back into writing

[fawnoir]

Post deleted because even if it is that serious it is never that serious. Basically, journaling and snapping rubber bands isn’t cutting it

#can’t believe I almost made it to 27 without becoming critically depressed again lol #it’s like I’m where I was 5 yrs ago + 10 yrs ago #only the stakes are so much higher #I had my parents to catch me when I fell back then #now they have no clue bc how do i at this age tell them I’m not better by now #I don’t live w them either so there’s nothing they can do anyways #I need to figure this out on my own which I’m fine w. I’m resourceful or whatever but not without limits #my ‘mother mother’ phone calls are getting shorter and shorter #and I feel that I’m running out of options ughh I need to delete this too!!!!!

[diejager]

Nooo but there is something about the monster au where there is a casual mention from her that she won't live as long as them (I assume monsters/hybrids are longer lived plus she is a lot more likely to die on mission), like she probably just jokes about it offhandedly and it sends all of them feral because... no? Absolutely not? Insulting. Ridiculous. Not happening.

Cue ultimate clinginess, all rushing to be more intimate because the thought of her not being around is abhorrent. Soap maybe losing it a bit going off on a line of thought about how he could mate her right? Would it be awful if there was a way for her to be a wolf shifter?

I AM GOING TO LOSE MY MIND

Change cw: mention of turning, mention of death, joking about death, tell me if I missed any.

All options are on the table at this point, death had always been something that loomed over them like a shadow, the veil and sickle of death following you wherever you went. You’ve had more than one reminder of your short life, your vulnerability as a human, weak and tender skin, short lives and a delicate body. There were so many things in the world that could pose a possible danger to you and they hated that.

You lived shorter lives than most monsters or hybrids, you grew sick and frail whereas hybrids could fight any viral infections or diseases, you didn’t have thicker skin despite all the extra layers of protective gear and you were a target of many for your choice of career. They were reminded of you mortality whenever you get hurt, blood painting your skin with a strong, metallic odour.

And it didn’t help that you’d often joke about it, throwing offhanded comments that made their hackles raise, body tense and mind brewing with what ifs scenario that has them tearing their hair from the root. While some monsters were more solitary than others, all of them were possessive of what they deemed their family —pack.

Ghost and König stuck closer during training, a tall, imposing figure behind you that acted as a guard dog to ward away anyone they deemed a danger. Soap and Horangi hung around you in the rec room, either laying on you or clinging to you, putting a show of ownership over you. Rudy and Alejandro, the ever active couple, were always finding you around the base, striking up a conversation and wrapping their arms around you. Gaz would was the cuddliest of the group, finding time outside of his busy to snuggle up against you and cover you with his wings, pulling you to sleep on his shoulder. Price, the man with the most authority in the TF made sure that you were always with someone on every Op, having someone to back you up in the most dire situation.

Every visit to the medic made them wild, it brought them closer to desperate measures. Would it be so bad to turn you in one? Would it be so bad to let Soap bite you during the full moon, his bite infecting you with his power: thicker skin, sturdier build, longer lifespan and better sense? The only draw backs were the higher wildness, near feral during full moons and a competitive mindset over the possessiveness and brattiness of a young werewolf.

Would it be so bad to make you return as a wraith? While Ghost learned to control his powers alone, the pain and emotions building up in his body without any way of letting it out, you had him, you wouldn’t be alone with the resurrection. He didn’t want you to feel the terror and agony by yourself —he didn’t want you to know how it felt to die and come back.

Would it be so bad to have a vampire turn you into one without becoming a thrall? You couldn’t walk in the sun, something you told them you enjoyed, you’d be restrained to specific activities and you wouldn’t like that, being limited by the sun. Granted, there were solutions to that, but none very comfortable.

They knew you were aware of your mortality, made fun of it and laughed as it this was your last day, but you didn’t fear death, you only feared leaving them. You were open to their thoughts, listening to their ideas and options with a neutral expression, but you didn’t reject the idea of turning you. That was a good thing, a step forward in their mind.

Now all that needed to do was to let you decide which path you wanted to walk.

tag list: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel

#x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #konig x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap x reader #monster 141 au #price mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #john price x reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #gaz mw2 #gaz x reader #mw2 alejandro #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #rudy x reader #rudolfo parra #kim horangi hong jin #horangi x reader #konig mw2 #könig x reader #könig mw2

[ja3yun]

Royal Sacrifice | S.JY | pt.2

prince!jake x maid!fem reader warnings: tiny bit of fluff, angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, nipple play, whiney jake, my attempt to write posh-ish (again), longing, not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 12.5k synopsis: with prince jaeyun set to marry another woman, revelations of the true plans behind the marriage come to light which leave you struck with conflicting emotions and lead to an outcome you could never have anticipated. part one a/n: hi! it is me once again. this was heavily requested to have a part 2 so i am being ever so kind and giving it to you all! i held a poll to see if you guys wanted a long chapter or shorter and long won so ofc its 12k (sigh) anyway, please enjoy it! this was really fun to write even though it's not my usual style, i hope this ending serves you better than part one did hehe.

3 months. It has been 3 months since you last saw the prince, the love of your life. Ever since the king made his speech declaring the marriage of Prince Jaeyun and Princess Mia, your heart has not stopped shedding pieces of itself. With each part that breaks away, you hope they reach him somehow.

Currently, he is in Lethamhill, fulfilling a tour of the Kingdom that will best help him serve the country once the merger is to happen. You haven’t ventured past the walls of Glengyre, so as you imagine him exploring and getting to know the people, being his charming self, you can only imagine the backdrop to be similar to your home, hopefully with a little more prosperity. 

It has been hard to focus on your duties while your brain is occupied with a forbidden love, a love that can never be. Of course, you told him to do this, practically pushing him into the new role of a husband to a woman who is not you, yet, you don’t find any comfort in knowing you both did the right thing. 

He was willing to fight in the front line, to disregard any idea of marrying another, all for the sake of you and your love. It is a love that comes once in a lifetime and it is a love that has the power to destroy worlds. You could not sit back and in your right mind watch the Prince throw away his people for you, it’s unethical and illogical, thus, you had no choice but to push him away.

But you still loved him all the same, that fire of affection will always burn for him.

Despite your longing, his absence has made it somewhat easier to grasp the idea that you can no longer hold him or feel his warmth through your veins. Being in the same room as him will only hurt you more.

He has to come back at some point, and that point is any day now.

Princess Mia must also do her rounds throughout Glengyre if she is to be a Princess of this kingdom as well as her own. You aren’t one to gossip but the chatter around the servant's quarters is that she is spoiled and entitled, everything Jaeyun despises. There might not be any truth to it, senseless rumours about her attitude could easily be spread in response to some jealous people looking for an excuse to hate her all because Jaeyun is off limits now. 

It didn’t matter, true or not, they were to be wed in a matter of months regardless of personal feelings. 

As you dust off the ornaments lined up neatly on the mantlepiece in the hallway, you hear the main entrance doors open, a commotion following. You peer around the corner to catch a glimpse, curious as to who graces the castle at this early hour. 

Then you see Princess Mia with her arm hooked onto Jaeyun, smiling up at him with doe eyes.

That was another truth you did not want to face once he returned; that he could, in fact, have fallen in love with her.

“My boy! How was your trip?” The king’s ambitious voice echoes through the entire castle.

Jaeyun smiles gracefully, bowing as he approaches his father, “It went well, Your Majesty,” he says at a far lesser decibel than his father.

Princess Mia looks at Jaeyun like he is the only man in the world which only serves to make your stomach twist. It is so obvious this would happen, Jaeyun is so easy to fall in love with, anyone would be foolish to spend more than a few hours with him and fail to be enamoured by him. 

You almost knock over the clock you are pretending to dust as your eyes stay glued to the scene before you. Your brain is trying to determine Jaeyun’s feelings towards his fiance, are the feelings of adoration mutual or does he still see this as a contractual marriage? 

Does he still love you?

"Y/N, back to work, please. We do not eavesdrop on the Royals," Miss Son chides in a hushed tone, jolting you back to attention.

You bow apologetically, hastening your dusting with a newfound fervour, cheeks burning with embarrassment under Miss Son's pointed gaze. She says no more, retreating to attend to her own duties and leaving you to yours.

As you resume your task, the distant murmur of voices from the royals serves as a constant reminder of his presence despite the fact he is no longer in your line of sight. Jaeyun’s voice threads through the air like a siren’s song, beckoning you to his side once more.

But you cannot answer.

_____

As you diligently scrub the remnants of the Royal's lunch from the plates, the imposing figure of the Chamberlain disrupts the tranquillity of the kitchen, her presence commanding attention as she raps sharply on the wooden table.

“Y/N?” she asks quizzically as she does not know who the name would belong to. 

It’s tiny situations like this that make you miss Jaeyun even more. The Crown Prince's effortless familiarity with over a hundred staff members stands in stark contrast, a testament to his respect and appreciation for every individual, regardless of their status.

Turning to face the Chamberlain, you offer a respectful bow, "Yes, Ma'am?"

"Ah, excellent. Please cease your current tasks and accompany me. Your presence has been requested," she instructs, her tone brooking no argument.

Your heart skips a beat, thoughts racing as you wonder what could possibly warrant such a summons. Swallowing your apprehension, you quickly set aside the plates and follow the Chamberlain, your footsteps echoing faintly in the corridor as you trail behind her.

The corridors of the castle seem to stretch endlessly, each step accompanied by a mounting sense of anticipation. You steal a glance at the Chamberlain's stoic profile, but her expression reveals nothing, leaving you to speculate about why you have been called.

Maybe the King and Queen finally discovered your clandestine relationship with the Prince, perhaps this is the moment all of your past rendezvous catch up to you. What would this mean? Would they behead you, exile you from the very kingdom you call home, or was it something much more sinister?

Finally, you arrive at a grand door, adorned with intricate carvings and gilded accents. The Chamberlain pauses, turning to regard you with a stern gaze, "Remember your place," she warns, before pushing open the door and ushering you inside.

As you walk into the large dining hall, you see an abundance of eyes on you. The entire Royal family, along with their trusted valets have their attention on you.

You scour the table for Jaeyun, whose eyes glisten with longing and disbelief. He cannot believe you are standing in front of him once again, albeit in different circumstances than he would like. 

To him, you look as pretty as the day he was escorted away to Lethamhill, but he can sense that you haven’t been well; your tired eyes and slumped body are a testament. He could only wish to ease the pain from your body just as his soft hands used to do.

“Miss Y/N, is it?” the Queen inquires, eyeing you up and down.

With a nod, you avoid direct eye contact, “Yes, Your Majesty. Y/N L/N,” your hands tremble slightly as you speak, seeking stability by clutching your skirt, attempting to rid the clamminess that has settled upon them.

The King rises from his seat, intrigued by your surname and background, “L/N… Is that the same L/N who oversees the mill near the Dochart River?” he probes.

Regrettably, you must correct him, “No, Your Majesty. My father toils in the mines, and my mother gathers berries,” a tinge of shame colours your words as you recount your family's humble occupations.

Both your parents worked tirelessly to provide for your family, yet their efforts often fell short. When they left you with your siblings, it wasn't out of neglect but out of necessity, seeking better opportunities in other regions where wealth flowed more readily - a circumstance not dissimilar to yours right now.

The room falls into a weighted silence, the King's brows knit together in thought. “Ah, I see,” he murmurs, clearly disinterested in you now.

You brace yourself for judgment, but to your surprise, Princess Mia speaks up, a soft smile on her face,  “Hardworking stock, it is admirable,” she remarks with no hint of sarcasm, her tone warm.

A glimmer of pride graces your features at her acknowledgement, a brief respite from the anxiety flickering around your insides. You still don’t know why you are here, so you cannot let your guard down so easily.

"Miss L/N, may I introduce Princess Mia of Lethamhill. I trust you are familiar with her impending union with the Prince?" the Queen's gaze steers you towards the Princess, who maintains a gracious smile.

"Yes, Your Majesty. It is indeed an honour to be in your presence," you reply with a respectful curtsy, offering a warm smile in return.

She makes her way to you, holding out her hands to offer to you. Your eyes scan the table to see the look of shock on everyone’s faces, taken aback by her forwardness to a mere peasant, “It is my honour to meet you, Y/N,” her face exudes a kindness you see similarly in Jaeyun.

It breaks your heart.

They are clearly well suited, their characters and status mould together in ways you and Jaeyun could never.

“Y/N, you will serve as Princess Mia’s lady-in-waiting during her stay in Glengyre,” the Queen's announcement leaves you speechless, a wave of disbelief washing over you.

Typically, when Royals of other kingdoms venture to another, it is customary that they bring their own staff, particularly their maid of honour. 

Princess Mia's unexpected warmth catches you off guard as she expresses her hope for a harmonious relationship, “Pince Jaeyun spoke highly of you, Y/N. I look forward to our time together," she says, grasping your hands with genuine affection.

Confusion and resentment swirl within you. Was this Jaeyun's way of taunting you? To rub it in that you are no longer his?

Despite your inner thoughta, you maintain your composure and offer a gracious smile in return. "Thank you, Princess Mia. I am at your service," you respond, masking your apprehension with a polite demeanour.

As you glance around the room, you catch Jaeyun's eye for a brief moment, his expression one of mischief, “Thank you, Y/N. You know all the ins and outs of this castle,” he smirks, eluding to your secret nightly meetings in whatever nook and cranny you could find to be with him.

With a mixture of confusion and trepidation, you acknowledge his words with a subtle nod, unsure of what his intentions are at this moment. Despite the lingering doubts and uncertainties, you steel yourself to fulfil your duties to the best of your abilities.

“I appreciate the opportunity, Your Highness,” you say to Jaeyun, hoping he can read your confused features. Luckily after months of only being able to communicate through your expressions, he shakes his head, understanding your worries but dismissing them.

He just wants to keep you close, and if serving his future wife is the only way to do that, then so be it.

_____

The following morning marks the beginning of your role as a lady-in-waiting, a position typically earned after years of loyal service—a fact not lost on the resentful gazes of your fellow servants at the dining table. Even your chamber companions shun you, refusing to share the bunk, a clear display of their disdain. Although Princess Mia kindly offers you a separate bed closer to her quarters, accepting would only stoke the flames of their animosity.

As you walk the hallways adorned in your new uniform, a sense of pride swells within you. The sea blue cotton dress may lack the opulence of the Chamberlain's or any other higher ranking servant’s attire, but its significance is not lost on you. It represents a step up from your previous maid garments, a symbol of newfound status and responsibility.

The guards at the door inspect you and your new look, both smiling widely before stepping out of the way to give you a pathway to the Princess’ door. 

Tipping your head courteously, you knock on the grand oak doors, awaiting approval to enter. However, when it does not come, you open them slightly, examining the room to find your lady. A lump is formed under the covers of the bed, meaning she could only be in one place.

You gently shut the double doors behind you before carefully gliding over to the window to open the curtains.

Back home, your brothers had a tendency to do as the Princess is doing just now - hiding to avoid going about their duties. You expect it from teenage boys, not from the Princess of an entire kingdom.

“Princess Mia, you have an appointment this morning,” you say firmly, hoping she will wake up.

A muffled groan escapes beneath the layers of quilts covering her head, "Please, Y/N, I have a dreadful allergy to the sun," she jokes.

With a gentle tug, you draw back the final curtain, "My apologies, Your Highness, but I am under strict orders from the King to ensure you join them for breakfast," you explain with a warm smile.

She shifts beneath the covers before casting them aside, revealing her upper half with a resigned sigh, "I understand, Y/N. It is not your doing," she concedes, stretching as if aiming for the heavens, "But you should know, I harbour a great distaste for mornings. If I seem irritable, it’s hardly your fault."

You can't help but admire her even in her morning disarray, her features possessing an otherworldly allure. Though the kingdom boasts many beauties, encountering someone of her stature feels like a rare privilege.

Blinking away the remnants of sleep, she finally meets your gaze with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "Shall we, Y/N?" she says, gracefully swinging her legs off the bed and rising to her feet with a fluid motion that speaks of innate poise.

“Would you like me to assist you with your bath or would you prefer some privacy?” you query, making her bed as she glances out the window.

Princess Mia is like any one of your friends back home, an ease of friendliness passes between you the more you speak. There's a pang of wishful thinking, a part of you hoped she'd embody the snobbishness rumoured about her, offering an easy target for animosity towards her relationship with your former love. But she is far removed from her rumours.

“Neither,” she begins to pull you away from your task of making the bed and pushes you towards the bathroom, “Perhaps I could use the company more than anything.”

Turning the taps to fill her bath, you steal another glance at her as she strips off her nightgown, marvelling at her delicate features: the velvety smoothness of her skin, the graceful curves that seem sculpted by an artist's hand, and the perkiness of her ass, reminiscent of a ripe peach. 

In contrast, your own reflection reveals a different story - dry skin marked by scars from old scabies, a dullness that overshadows any hint of radiance, and a figure that pales in comparison, lacking the perfection of hers.

You would be foolish to think for a second you could compete with her for Jaeyun’s love.

As she steps into the running bath, you prepare the soap, handing it to her which she accepts with a smile. 

“How long have you worked for the Glengyre royal family?” she asks, lathering up the soap and washing it over her body.

"Just under a year, Your Highness," you respond, realising in this moment that you have been here for much longer than desired. Being away from your brothers for this long was never part of the plan, and the ache to see them again gnaws at your heart, the letters exchanged barely enough to quell your longing.

Princess Mia lounges in the bath, leaning her chin on the edge as she speaks with you, “Tell me honestly, from a peasant perspective, are they good people?” 

The question is a hefty one, one that you are not prepared for. It is no secret that you have a distaste for the King and Queen, however, your judgement upon them can only lead to your travesty, so you ponder how to navigate the question while still maintaining some honesty.

“Well, the King and Queen try their best,” you begin, eyes pointed downward, “And the Prince…”

How would one describe Prince Jaeyun? Loyal, honest, kindhearted, fearless, a true King. But how do you say it while hiding your feelings for him? Your brain wants to tell the Princess how Jaeyun kisses with such desire and passion, and his whispers of affection and adoration serve you to believe he is straight from one of Shakespeare's sonnets. He was much more than a noble Crown Prince, he was the love of your life, and you wanted to scream it from the rooftops.

She pokes you gently with a finger, drawing you back from your reverie, "Y/N?"

"Oh, my apologies," you offer a strained smile, hoping she didn’t catch on to your longing gaze, "Prince Jaeyun is undoubtedly a man of great virtue and integrity, worthy to ascend the throne and lead his people," you reply, striving for a diplomatic tone that hides the depth of your affection for him.

"And how will he be as a husband?"

You fluster, your brain now inappropriately recalling his touches and lingering lips while his bride-to-be is a mere foot away, “I couldn’t possibly comment on that, Your Highness,” you deflect, inwardly cursing your traitorous thoughts.

“But from your perception, someone of your lower class has no reason to lie to me regarding your Prince, I would value your honesty,” she insists, playing with the water that envelopes her.

Sighing, you yield, “He will make a fantastic husband. His loyalty to those he loves knows no bounds,” you concede, swallowing the bitter pill of truth as you reluctantly paint a portrait of Jaeyun as a desirable suitor, knowing it may only serve to bring them closer together.

The Princess slips lower into the bathtub, leaving just her head above the water, "He does not love me, though," she acknowledges, her voice heavy with sorrow as if she were voicing the truth for the first time, "He made it clear that his heart belongs elsewhere, that he could never give it to me."

You feel a surge of tension at her words, a glimmer of hope blossoming in your heart at Jaeyun's implied feelings. It's a bittersweet realisation, knowing that he still holds love for you as deeply as you do for him, yet, not one of you can do anything about it.

Standing from the stool beside the bathtub, you pick up a towel and hold it out for the Princess to take, but she does not move, instead, she continues her questioning, “Who does he love, Y/N?”

The sickness that sits in your stomach bubbles to your throat, word vomit willing you on to scream at her that it is you he belongs to, that his heart is yours and yours is his. But you dare not utter such a confession.

“He loves his people, Your Highness, they are who have his heart,” you stand strong, pushing the towel further in her face, using it as a barricade so she cannot witness your wet eyes.

Princess Mia removes herself from the tub, idly lost in her thoughts, “We have that in common,” her tone airy as she remembers her people back home.

She is a good person, her thoughtfulness and kindness showcase this, and you know she will make a fantastic addition to Jaeyun’s faction. With her as his wife, they will do great things for Glengyre.

_____

As the first rays of dawn break through the stained glass windows of the castle, you find yourself standing alongside Princess Mia at the grand breakfast table, the delicate clinking of silverware and murmured conversations filling the air. Your gaze couldn't help but flicker nervously toward the entrance, anticipation mounting with each passing moment as you awaited Jaeyun's arrival.

It is hard to be so close yet so out of reach to someone you used to be tangled with.

Prince Jaeyun and his trusted valet, Heeseung, make their grand entrance into the opulent dining hall, instantly commanding the attention of all present. His piercing gaze sweeps across the room, briefly meeting Princess Mia's eyes before seeking out your own.

You have lined yourself up with the other maids, a habit from your past role. Heeseung approaches you with a warm smile, his voice carrying a hint of understanding as he addresses you, "Miss Y/N, valets typically stand to the left," he gently reminds you, gesturing for you to join him. Grateful for Heeseung's kindness and guidance, you offer him a respectful bow before obediently following his lead.

As you traverse the room, keeping your head low in deference, you feel a soft touch against your hand, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was, the touch sending sparks to your heart. 

Jaeyun is playing with fire, he knows it’s risky to even gaze upon you too long, yet his heart yearns for you and your touch, causing him to act irrationally. Your heart is a magnet and it is drawing him in the closer you are to him.

In a brief moment of recklessness, Jaeyun slips a folded piece of paper into your palm before releasing his grip, the covert exchange going unnoticed by everyone save the two of you. Quickly you tuck the piece of paper up your sleeve and stand in your designated space.

As the Royals take their seats, anticipation pervades the air, with the tantalising smells of the lavish meal enticing even the most controlled appetites.

“How fares the Princess this morning?” Heeseung inquires softly, a faint smile gracing his lips as he casts his gaze ahead.

“Quite well. And what of the Prince?” you respond, hoping for a glimpse into your former lover’s wellbeing.

Heeseung's sigh is filled with gravity, his words hint at a heavy burden borne by the Prince, "Disheartened, I'm afraid," he says quietly.

The confession elicits a sharp intake of breath from you, brows knit together in confusion as you silently implore Heeseung to elaborate. "I believe it's due to the wedding being expedited to this Friday," he declares, his words sinking in with unexpected weight.

“What?!” your exclamation escapes your lips before you can temper it, a mix of shock and disbelief colouring your tone, reverberating through the room with an unintended volume.

Jaeyun, catching wind of your distressed reaction, turns his gaze towards you, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. Sensing his eyes upon you, you quickly avert your gaze, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

You know you cannot be with him but you presumed you had more time to become accustomed to Princess Mia around the castle and before you lose him forever, “Isn’t the Princess required to occupy Glengyre for at least 3 months? Isn’t it customary for her to know our land and the people before she takes such a vow?” you question. 

“Apparently, she does not need 3 months. The arrangement has altered slightly,” he looks down at you. 

“How can that be?” You don’t mean to bombard the valet with your senseless questioning, but nothing makes sense to you, “How will she know what is best for this kingdom if she does not actively know it? How will she best know how to take the role of Princess of Glengyre?”

Heeseung breathes out, “She won’t be, Prince Jaeyun is to be crowned King Consort of Lethamhill once they marry and fulfil his duties there,” his tone is filled with sorrow. 

You're taken aback by Heeseung's revelation, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place, "But if Jaeyun becomes the King Consort of Lethamhill, what about Glengyre?" you inquire, your voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to speak the words aloud, “Who will take the place of the King once he passes?”

“It is blasphemy to speak about the King’s death so frivolously!” Heeseung exclaims in a hushed tone, his jaw clenched. Heeseung was a royal guard before he was Jaeyun’s man-in-waiting, the blood of the royal navy still runs rampant through his veins, his honour to the king noble even if slightly blinded.

You offer an apology, bowing your head and feigning shame, “Sorry, I shall never utter the words so haphazardly again.”

He nods, stature returning to his elegant stance, "It's a complicated matter," Heeseung replies, his tone laced with sympathy, "The merger between the kingdoms is more than it seems. Lethamhill is in dire need of assistance after the turmoil caused by the war. The arrangement serves to benefit both kingdoms but it is Glengyre who is set to prosper.”  

You are not understanding Heeseung’s words, which only causes hindrance in this conversation, “Excuse my ignorance, but I do not understand.”

“Lethamhill is on the brink of destruction, the King believes if Prince Jaeyun were to be crowned King Consort, he would be able to fully take Lethamhill for himself. King James and Queen Elizabeth will resign their titles for their daughter as part of the deal, leaving our Crown Prince in charge with only the need of convincing Princess Mia to follow his plans.”

You whip your head to face Heeseung, “So Lethamhill is to be no more? What of its people?” your heart races at the thought of thousands of innocent lives tangled in this game of political power.

“They are not the King and Prince’s concern, they serve Glengyre and Glegyre alone,” he says quietly.

There is a weight in your chest akin to an anchor, bringing your remaining hope and happiness for this merger down into the pits of your stomach. The merger is a visage, a guise for your King to be completely in control. 

This was never about peace, this was always going to be about power.

“And does Prince Jaeyun know about this?” you ask astonished. Surely, if Jaeyun knew of the inner workings of his father, he would put a stop to it all. Although Jaeyun lives to serve his people, he would never sacrifice others to replenish Glengyre, it’s the reason he has always voted against war.

Heeseung's gaze remains firm, "Of course he does," he replies sternly, "You think the Prince would be kept in the dark about something like this?"

As Heeseung's words sink in, a wave of realisation washes over you, accompanied by a sense of betrayal. You can only hope Jaeyun has a bigger plan, one that can save both kingdoms from perishing.

______

As night descends upon the castle, you navigate the dimly lit corridors with determined steps, your mind swirling with conflicting emotions. Jaeyun's cryptic note had beckoned you to the Council c

Chambers under the cover of darkness, although, you were conflicted with the idea knowing his plans now to infiltrate Lethamhill from within.

However, this served as your chance to speak directly to Jaeyun and figure out what his true intentions are. Every atom of your being is saying he cannot be so foolish as to destroy a country just in the hopes of building up his own, but you still approach the meeting with a wary heart.

With a heavy push, you open the door and the memories of your final night together flood your mind. But you refuse to be swayed by the urge within your body and heart; you must find out what is truly going on.

The room is cloaked in shadows, save for the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the windows. As you step inside, the air seems charged with tension, every creak of the floorboards echoing in the silence.

Jaeyun is leaning against the very desk he made love to you on countless times, the very desk you promised your undying love to him. His head whips up as he hears you enter the Council Chamber, his body lit by the moon and nothing more, yet, you can see the twinkle in his eyes as if it is a bright summer’s morning.

He stands as you edge closer to him, "It's been too long since I was graced with such beauty in my lone presence," he remarks, his voice soft and warm. His hand moves instinctively to find your hips, but you step back, the tension in the air palpable.

"Tell me it isn’t true," you implore, your heart pounding in your chest as you search his eyes for reassurance, desperate for him to dispel the troubling rumours that have plagued your thoughts.

Jaeyun's brow furrows in confusion, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity, "Tell me what isn't, my love?" he responds, his voice laced with genuine confusion.

"Don't call me that. You have no right anymore," you respond sharply, your voice tinged with bitterness. The pain of betrayal simmers just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment.

"You'll always be my love, Y/N," Jaeyun insists, his tone pleading as he reaches out to you, but you hold yourself stiffly, refusing to be swayed by his familiar touch.

"But you're not mine, not if what I heard is true," you retort, your voice trembling with a mixture of hurt and anger. 

Jaeyun's expression softens, "What did you hear?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid of the answer.

In Jaeyun’s eyes, he has done nothing wrong. He has kept Princess Mia at a respectable length at all times, never shared the same bed, and made it abundantly clear that this marriage will harbour no love as he already gave his heart to someone else - to you.

Which could only mean you know one thing.

You feel a surge of frustration welling up inside you, threatening to implode as you confront Jaeyun with the truth.

"That you are to marry Princess Mia for the sole purpose of becoming king and take complete control of Lethamhill," you reveal, your voice trembling as you lay bare the painful reality of the situation, “Please, Jaeyun, tell me this isn’t true. Tell me otherwise.”

You feel the weight of each word as it leaves your lips. The dim light from the moon casts long shadows across the room, adding to the solemn atmosphere as you confront Jaeyun, the man you once thought you knew so well.

You are begging him to prove your mind wrong, to let you in on a lavish plan that bonds the countries together by outwitting his father. 

Yet he offers nothing.

For a moment, there is silence between you, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing. Your figure tightens as any hope you had for him, for this to be a lie, slowly dwindles away.

Finally, Jaeyun speaks, his voice barely above a whisper, "Y/N, please understand," he begins, his tone pleading as he searches for the right words to convey his thoughts, “It is not by choice.”

“There is always a choice, Jaeyun,” you spit back at him, head thumping with the realisation that Jaeyun does not have an ulterior motive, he is going along with the plan to destroy Lethamhill, “What was the point of agreeing to marry Princess Mia and avoiding war when you are only going to cause one anyway?” 

Jaeyun's shoulders sag under the weight of your accusation, his gaze dropping to the floor as he wrestles with his conscience, "It isn't like that," he protests weakly, his voice tinged with sorrow, "There will be no war."

“But people will be hurt and in consequence, they will die. That to me is no better than war,” you counter, your voice laced with agitation.

“Some may die but our people will be safe,” he insists, his words ringing around the room.

You seethe as he shows no willingness to relent; you sacrificed true love, your happiness, all for the better of the kingdom you call home, and yet Jaeyun sets make a fool of it. Your kingdom may flourish, but it will be covered in a sea of blood and power. Glengyre will no longer be a place you can call home if this were to be the case.

“But what of Princess Mia’s people? They will surely perish,” you argue, your heart breaking at the thought of innocent lives that will be lost in the name of power and control.

Jaeyun sighs, his expression haunted as he grapples with the weight of his decisions, "I took an oath to protect my kingdom," he murmurs, his voice barely audible above the din of your thoughts.

You step forward, jaw tightening and fists clenched, “And you will take an oath on Friday,” you remind him, your voice thick with disappointment, “To their kingdom, to be their leader and save them from their current state.”

“The King-”

“Enough! No excuses. The king does not have a final say once you are to be wed. You will be crowned King Consort of Lethamhill, you get to have the final decision as to what to do, what is best.”

Jaeyun's hand hesitates midair, trembling as if caught in a tempest of conflict. Your impassioned words strike at the very core of his being, awakening a sense of clarity amidst the fog. For the first time, he begins to see the shadow that his father's influence has cast over him, distorting his once unyielding sense of honour and integrity.

In your unwavering presence, he discovers a beacon, guiding him back to the principles he formerly valued. 

“My love-” he starts, but you interject once again.

“No. Until you return the Jaeyun I once knew, the man that I love, I am not yours,” you back away slowly, voice trembling as tears prick your eyes, “I belong to him, to my Jaeyun, not you.”

_____

Two days later, you stand outside Miss Son's office, the oak door imposing yet familiar. The flickering torches cast dancing shadows across the corridor, adding an eerie ambience to the castle's interior. Your heart pounds in your chest as you raise your hand to knock, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders. 

With the wedding tomorrow, you do not know how she will react to your request.

The door creaks open, revealing the warm glow of Miss Son's office. Stepping inside, you're enveloped by the scent of parchment and ink, a comforting aroma that reminds you of countless meetings and tasks undertaken within these walls.

"Come in," Miss Son's voice breaks through your reverie, and you enter, feeling a mixture of nerves and determination.

"Miss Son, I'm afraid I must pardon myself from my role," you state, the words coming out in a rush.

Miss Son's expression softens with concern as she listens to your explanation, “Why so suddenly? Is Princess Mia giving you a hard time?” She leans forward, her gaze unwavering as she waits for you to continue.

"No, no, she is quite lovely...I fear I haven't seen my brothers in a long time. I think it is time for me to go back and care for them," you explain, your voice faltering slightly as you try to mask the true reason behind your decision.

Miss Son's eyes narrow, a knowing glint in her gaze, "Are you sure this has nothing to do with the Crown Prince marrying the Princess?" she asks gently, her tone filled with understanding.

You swallow hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. The truth hangs heavy in the air, begging to be acknowledged.

"Whatever do you mean?" you reply, though you know she sees right through your facade.

“I mean, I am head of over one hundred servants, I know everything that happens within these castle walls,” she gestures around the room with her finger, eyebrows raised expectantly, “You and Prince Jaeyun lack discretion. Sneaking around, leaving traces of yourself which I have had to clean up, you are both useless at this secret love affair.”

Of course, she knew everything. You and Jaeyun were not exactly quiet in your passionate encounters and pieces of your uniform lay in different areas of the castle; you just thought you were both extremely lucky, but it happens that your luck is named Miss Son.

“I understand why you must leave but it will be a great shame to lose you, Miss Y/N,” she offers a smile of sympathy before gesturing you away quickly, “Now go get some rest and leave tomorrow morning. With the commotion of the wedding, you should be able to sneak out with ease.”

You bow appreciatively to her, muttering an almost silent thank you as you retreat to your bed chambers, your bones heavy with sorrow.

_____

The tranquillity of the maid's chambers envelops you as you nestle beneath your threadbare quilt, its thin fabric offering little comfort against the weight of your thoughts. With the royal wedding looming just 17 hours away, sleep eludes you as you mentally chart your journey back home.

The prospect of reuniting with your brothers brings a bittersweet relief, a respite from the tumult that swirls within the castle walls. However, when you think about your impending departure, you can't shake the lingering anguish that pulls at your heartstrings, tying you to this location despite your desire to move on.

Jaeyun.

As you ponder the situation laid before you, you wonder whether Jaeyun fully comprehends the ramifications of his decisions. Half of your heart longs to remain by his side, hoping to guide him away from the path of destruction. But you cannot be by his side, not after tomorrow.

The door to your room creaks open, the sound echoing softly in the dimly lit quarters. You lay still, pretending to be asleep, though your senses are alert to every sound and movement around you. You suspect it's one of the other maids, returning to collect some forgotten item before retiring for the night.

Miss Son has led the others to the tavern for a ‘light’ celebration ahead of the royal wedding. While it was meant to be a joyous occasion, the event only serves to heighten your anxiety. You would find little joy in the festivities, preferring the quiet solitude of your room.

As the footsteps draw closer to your bed, your pulse quickens, and you hold your breath, hoping to discourage any interaction. However, when you feel the mattress dip slightly and warm arms encircle your waist, your tension begins to ebb away.

The touch is unmistakably Jaeyun's, sending a jolt of both comfort and turmoil through your body. Despite your conflicting feelings, you find yourself relaxing into his embrace, seeking refuge in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“My love, I am sorry,” he says quietly, his lips peppering kisses to your shoulder blade, each kiss lingering longer than the last. His hands trace the outline of your figure as they etch along your waist and sides.

Jaeyun has never laid with you like this, the opportunities scarce in the secrets of the night, this moment only makes you wish you had taken more chances to hold one another close.

“Jaeyun, you cannot be here,” you state, trying to swallow your love and sorrow, but they’re far too big to choke down.

“Face me, Y/N,” he commands, his tone is not forceful but pleading. He needs you to look at him to fully see his emotions. As of right now, you think of him as a deceitful Prince, set to ruin innocent lives, and he will not stand for it, “Please.”

It is hard to face a man you love who seems to mirror only a shell of himself, yet, you turn around per his request. Perhaps it was the hierarchy that lay between you, or maybe it is just your love for him that outweighs any apprehension you have of him.

Your eyes meet and his heart stops, the tears in your eyes only exhibit how this is affecting you, “I cannot stand you being mad at me,” his lips pout as he speaks and you wish to kiss him like never before.

In your mind, if you kiss him right now it may cause a chain reaction in which he changes his mind on the matters of Lethamhill, but that is foolish thinking.

"Jaeyun, you know I cannot condone what you're doing," you reply softly, your voice laced with sadness, "This marriage, this plan - it is wrong. It goes against everything I thought you stood for."

He reaches out to gently brush a stray tear from your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine, "I know, Y/N. Believe me, I never wanted any of this," he confesses, his voice laced with regret.

You search his eyes, grappling with conflicting emotions of love, anger, and betrayal. Regardless of the hurt, you can't help but feel a flicker of hope at his words. Maybe there's still a chance to sway him, to remind him of the man you once knew - the man who would never sacrifice his principles for power.

“My Jaeyun is in there somewhere, I know he is. Why can’t he be the one to rule as King Consort and make this right?” you beg, your hands playing with the tassels of his white nightshirt.

Jaeyun’s expression is unwavering with regret and pain, “He will be, I will make sure of it.”

“But how? I cannot see him when I look at you,” you retort, lip quivering at the prospect of losing him both figuratively and physically.

“He needs you to guide him, I need you to guide me, that much was clear today,” he begins, his lips find your shoulder once again, his teeth laying claim to you. All the marks from your previous encounters have begun to fade, leaving you bare for someone else to take hold, and he refuses to let that happen.

He must fix this.

Sucking on the base of your neck, his hands grip the back of your thighs, pulling you further into his body, your legs now sandwiched between his, “Today, you made me see my ways, how it was wrong of me to honour a vow to one kingdom and not another. I need you by my side.” 

Being surrounded by his father and his men, their constant words or assurance that this is the right thing to do for Glengyre swayed him to believe it too. Then you put him in his place, allowing him to see how preposterous the plan was. 

He needs you.

Jaeyun kisses up to the side of your mouth, his eyes now looking desperately into yours, “Please do not go tomorrow.”

“How did you know?”

“Miss Son, she told me,” he confesses.

Your hands lay splayed on his chest as you contemplate whether to bring him closer, or push him away, “How am I meant to stand by idly while I lose you and know of your plans?” you query.

It is selfish of him to ask such a request, he knows this, but he will not lose hope on you so easily, “Trust me, please, just trust me. If not as Prince Jaeyun, as your Jaeyun.” 

His words echo in your mind, battling internally whether to fully put your faith in a man who not a few days ago swore destruction to people like yourself.

The room feels suffocatingly small as you grapple with your thoughts, his touch igniting a storm of conflicting feelings within you. His lips trailing along your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and desire in their wake, only serve to cloud your thoughts further.

But amidst the haze of uncertainty, there's a glimmer of hope - a flicker of the man you once knew, buried beneath layers of duty and obligation. You can't help but cling to that hope, to the belief that somewhere within him, the true Jaeyun still exists.

His lips softly press themselves against yours, the feeling causing stray tears to slip from your eyes. You missed him and his kiss only served as evidence of his equal longing for you.

You grip onto his nightshirt and pull him to lay on top of you, the feeling of your lover in your arms is suddenly the only thing occupying your mind. All your worries and woes are now gone, washed away from your brain as his tongue slips into your mouth and his body is pressed heavily against you.

"I missed you terribly, my love," he murmurs against your lips, his words tinged with longing, "Tell me you thought of me?"

His yearning infuses his words, coaxing the last remnants of tears to escape your eyes, "Every waking moment was filled with thoughts of you," you confess, holding him tighter, seeking solace in his embrace.

Your admission blankets him with comfort, reassured by the enduring strength of your love. Initially, when you urged him to marry Princess Mia, part of him foolishly believed it was to liberate yourselves from secrecy and not just for the good of the people, that you grew tired of sneaking around the cold castle with him. Now, as he holds you close once more, your kisses igniting need, he realises the folly of that assumption.

With his right hand, he brushes aside the strap of your nightie, allowing your tit to spill slightly from its confines. The sight of your ample flesh awakens a hunger within Jaeyun, prompting him to lean in, his teeth gently grazing the curve of your breast.

His mouth leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses as he descends toward your nipple, delicately taking it into his mouth. With a mixture of tenderness and fervent desire, he nibbles and flicks the nub, his tongue swirling eagerly around it. His hands firmly grip your waist, anchoring your writhing body in place.

You're consumed by a desperate longing for him, craving his love once more, unable to wait as he teases your body.

Jaeyun knows that you both usually do not have time, opting for a quick session of raw passion before retreating to your chambers. But tonight is different. Tonight, there are no constraints, no fear of interruption or pressing obligations. Tonight, he is entirely yours, dedicated to fulfilling every desire and whim that you may have. Jaeyun had made sure every servant was out of the quarters till at least dawn.

What you thought was Miss Son’s idea was founded behind Jaeyun’s generosity. 

As Jaeyun continues to lavish attention on your breast, his ministries grow more fervent, driven by the desire to reconnect with you. His lips and tongue work in tandem, igniting sparks of pleasure that course through your body like wildfire.

"Jaeyun," you moan, the sound escaping your lips in a breathless plea as his hand slips beneath your nightgown and into your panties, "I need you," you confess, your fingers tracing urgent paths up and down his back as you attempt to remove his shirt, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against yours.

"I know, darling, I know," he murmurs, his words intermingled with kisses that caress the sensitive flesh of your erect nipple, "But tonight, I want to savour every moment with you, to show you just how much you mean to me."

His touch ignites a fire within you as two of his fingers glide along the slick surface of your arousal, drawing forth a soft purr of satisfaction from your lips. Your body hums with anticipation, aching for his touch as he guides his digits to your entrance, the sensation of them slipping inside you with effortless ease sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

As Jaeyun's fingers delve deeper into your slick warmth, a gasp escapes your lips, your body instinctively arching into his touch. Each stroke of your walls sends ripples of pleasure coursing through you, heightening the intensity of the moment.

His lips are back on yours as he thrusts his fingers in at a fast pace, his thumb now finding your clit as he rapidly flicks it back and forth. The motion causes you to breathe into his mouth, your lover feeling as though you are injecting him with newfound life. He knew he had missed you but having you like this, surrendering to his touch only made it much more evident in his heart.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N. You are utterly captivating, a masterpiece brought to life," he whispers, his voice filled with awe. 

Despite your comparisons of yourself to Princess Mia that you made earlier, you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world with his words. And to him, you are. You will always be the most breathtaking girl he will ever see; not even Aphrodite holds a candle to you, especially not as your face contorts in pleasure.

Each curl and stretch of his fingers scissors you open, making you whine in his ear as you beg him to go faster, which he obliges, his forearm veins protruding as he tenses, putting all his might into pleasuring you.

His unrelenting tempo, along with the tantalising exploration of his tongue, drives you to the edge of bliss, preparing you for the impending release that pulses inside you like a building storm. "Jaeyun, I'm cumming," you manage to exclaim, your words muffled against his lips as you exchange air and need.

"Cum, my love. Let go for me," he pleads, his voice gruff as he grinds his hardness against the fragile flesh of your thigh, looking for some type of release. Trapped in his night bottoms, the throbbing in his loins worsens with each passing second.

With a rough curl of his fingers, you surrender to the torrent of sensation that crashes over you, crying out his name as pleasure consumes you whole. Your body convulses in the throes of orgasm, your essence spilling over his hand. You only wish it was his cock.

Luckily for you, he also dreams of being inside you, the friction on his dick unbearable as he watches you heave out short breaths as your body tries to regulate itself. 

Jaeyun removes his hand from your swollen cunt, kneeling between your legs as he takes in your already spent body. But he isn’t finished with you.

Swiftly, Jaeyun sheds his clothing, the fabric falling to the floor in a whisper of motion before crawling back on top of you. He reaches for your nightgown's hem, sliding his fingertips over the shabby fabric as he tugs it up and over your head. In the dark light, your nude body is bathed in a delicate glow, a picture of ethereal beauty that makes him gasp with need.

As your bodies meld together, skin to skin, the electric current of desire arcs between you. His lips capture yours once again in a searing kiss, hands roaming over your body as he longs to feel every inch of you.

You can’t help but wonder if this will be the last time you have Jaeyun in your arms like this, so you have to make it count.

Sitting up, you feel a burst of confidence rush through you as you push him onto his back, your hands firmly grabbing his shoulders to keep him in place. The horror on his face only strengthens your urge to straddle him, a natural need propelling you forward.

His eyes widen in surprise at your sudden assertiveness, unaccustomed to you taking the lead in your lovemaking. But there's a spark of excitement in his eyes, an eagerness to yield to your touch and let you have your way with him.

Positioning yourself above him, you guide his erect cock beneath you, your core pulsating with excitement. You lower yourself onto him with tantalising slowness, the smooth heat of your sex wrapping around his length inch by inch.

As you start moving, a low sigh leaves his lips, and your hips swing back and forth, The sensation of his hardness buried deep within you sends sparks of ecstasy coursing through your veins, starting a fire that threatens to engulf you both.

Jaeyun's whimpers of bliss fill the air, his hands tightening around your hips as he tries to match your relentless pace, pushing up to meet you with frantic desperation. "God, Y/N," he exclaims, his voice thick with need, "You feel incredible wrapped around me like this."

Your claws sink into his chest as you bounce with renewed zest, taking complete control. Your motions are quick and commanding, leaving him with no choice but to give in to the intense feelings racing through his body, "I've missed this," you admit, your voice heavy with desire, "missed the way you fill me up."

“You have?” he opens his eyes to see your tits bouncing up and down your chest, a sight he thought about most as he stroked his member in the shower while you were out of reach, “Do you want me to fill you up properly?” he asks in a mischievous tone, his hand pulling your head to meet his, cloaking your lips with his own.

Nodding, you mewl into his mouth as both of you groan simultaneously, the sound of skin slapping and your vocalised pleasure bouncing along the walls. It’s raw and passionate, it’s unlike any other time Jaeyun has fucked into you. It’s a memory you’ll cherish forever, especially if this was to be the last time.

“Y/N, my love, I can’t hold out much longer,” he confesses as his eyebrows scrunch together, trying to hold himself back from releasing into you until he knows you’re going to cum again.

Heeding your request, he grips your waist tight, halting your movements as he pistons into you, using all his might to bring you both to the peak. With 3 forceful thrusts, his hips stutter and legs tense as he shoots his seed into you, endless hot spurts painting your walls.

“Please cum inside me, let me feel it,” you beg between kisses, riding him so hard that your thin bed frame is on the verge of collapsing beneath you.

It feels like a dream to have his cum stuffed inside of you again, causing you to follow suit, cumming over his cock with a scream of his name, one that could surely be heard all the way to Lethamhill. 

Jaeyun proceeds to buck his hips up into you, riding out your orgasms together as you collapse on top of him. The inside of your thighs tremble from your combined pleasure, and the intensity of your lovemaking leaves you both breathless and exhausted.

As you come down, you find yourselves tangled together in a mess of limbs and sweat, your bodies still humming with the aftershocks of your shared passion. And as you lie there, spent and sated in each other's arms, you only feel the love between both of you radiating through your shared pants.

Looking up at him, you see his eyes glazed with satisfaction, a lazy smile plastered on the Crown Prince’s gorgeous face. He always spoke about how you were a vision, yet he is the one with a beauty so rare it’s almost impossible to understand how he is real.

But he is and he is holding you in his arms as he slips out of you, pulling your body up to rest more comfortably on himself. 

Your mind now clearing up from the fog of sex allows you to go back to your conversation before this impromptu session with him. 

"Can you truly change the course of this plan?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you search his eyes for any sign of reassurance.

Jaeyun's gaze meets yours, unwavering in its intensity, "I will do whatever it takes to make things right, I will find a way to reconcile my duty with my conscience."

"I want to believe you," you admit, your voice trembling with vulnerability, "But I need more than words, Jaeyun. I need to see action, to know that you're truly committed to making amends."

Jaeyun nods solemnly, understanding the weight of your request. "I will show you, Y/N. I will prove to you that I am worthy of your trust," he vows, his fingers gently tracing patterns along your skin as if to imprint his promise upon you.

“How?”

“I have a plan, but I must detail it out first before I speak it aloud. Please, just trust me.”

_____

The castle is filled with people here to watch the wedding, the wedding you have been dreading since Jaeyun left your quarters last night. He snuck out in the early hours of the morning before the rest of the staff came home. It was a bittersweet goodbye, your bodies that were tangled with one another for hours were pried apart, possibly forever.

The final kiss he placed on your lips is all you can think about as you stand obediently with the other staff, Heeseung by your side as everyone awaits Princess Mia’s arrival. The buzz around the hall is electric yet you feel like an insect, the closer you get to the nuptials, the closer you are to being zapped in the heart.

You feel uneasy as you see Jaeyun fiddle with his ring, the one he will take from his right hand and place on his bride. The more you ponder, the more you come to the realisation that maybe you should have just left, gone home with the cloak of the wedding as your opportunity to flee. 

But Jaeyun asked you to trust him, that he will do the right thing for everyone. The trust you have does not cancel out your breaking heart, however. 

Dressed in his princely attire, Jaeyun exudes a regal air as he stands at the altar, his uniform immaculate and his demeanour poised. Every detail of his appearance seems meticulously crafted to accentuate his undeniable beauty, from the crisp white fabric adorned with intricate gold detailing to the way his dark locks are artfully styled to frame his face.

As the royal band fills the air with music, the grandeur of the moment is punctuated by the entrance of Princess Mia, a vision of grace and elegance. Jaeyun's gaze shifts to her, momentarily captivated by her presence, and you feel a pang of sadness knowing that this is the beginning of the end for you.

This was it, you were losing him before your very eyes, but you cannot be selfish. This was the right thing to do, a sacrifice you must abide by for the kingdom you love. 

Truth be told, it is easier to come to terms with marriage now that you know Jaeyun will do whatever is in his power to truly bring solace between both Glengyre and Lethamhill. Before, once Heeseung revealed the malicious plans to you, you started to wonder if giving up your love was worth it or if it was all for nothing, but now you know it will not be in vain. 

Princess Mia greets Jaeyun at the alter and curtsies, her fiance mirroring her action while you swallow the lump in your throat. There is a glint in both their eyes, while you know it isn’t love, you do question it with a pierced heart. If Jaeyun were to fall in love with her, which is not implausible considering even in the short-lived time you acted as her maid-in-waiting you witnessed how humble and gracious she is, just as Jaeyun is. They match perfectly in every way.

You fight the urge to cry as the ceremony gets underway, the Bishop beginning to unify them both together. 

The moment arrives when the officiant solemnly intones, "If anyone present knows of any reason why this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace." The weight of the words hangs heavy in the air, the tension palpable as the guests hold their breath. 

Not a soul would be foolish enough to-

“We object.”

A choir of gasps fill the air as two harmonious voices speak their objection. Your eyes fall upon them as they smile at one another, letting go of their hands. 

Prince Jaeyun and Princess Mia objected to their own wedding. 

The shock reverberates through the room, eyes widen and murmurs erupt among the attendees. Not you nor Heeseung know what to do in this situation, both of you staring at Jaeyun with bewilderment, wondering what on earth he was doing.

Was this part of his grand plan?

"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests of Glengyre and Lethamhill," he begins, his voice steady yet filled with conviction. "I stand before you today not only as your Prince but as a voice for justice and truth. For too long, a shadow of deceit has loomed over our kingdoms, orchestrated by none other than my own father, the King of Glengyre."

He pauses, allowing his words to sink in, before continuing with a sense of urgency, "It has come to my attention that he was exploiting this marriage as a means to hold Lethamhill hostage, to seize complete control and dominate its people. This nefarious plan would only bring harm and danger to both our kingdoms, jeopardizing the lives and well-being of our citizens. The exact opposite of what he has promised you all."

Beside him, Princess Mia nods in agreement, her expression mirroring his determination, "Furthermore," Jaeyun continues, "Princess Mia has brought to my attention disturbing revelations regarding her father, King James of Lethamhill. It has been made clear to us that he seeks to exploit this union to unlawfully seize land and resources from Glengyre, with the intent of displacing our people to expand his own domain."

The outrage in his voice is palpable, his eyes flashing with defiance as he declares, "Princess Mia and I stand united in our outrage and determination to put an end to these injustices. We refuse to allow our kingdoms to be pawns in the power games of corrupt rulers. It is time for us to take a stand."

Jaeyun’s eyes flicker to you as he utters his next words.

“We will not be getting married.” 

Your knees buckle beneath you, a surge of relief and disbelief flooding through every fiber of your being. The love of your life, the one you were on the brink of losing forever, stands before you, his gaze locking with yours in a silent exchange of understanding. A small, reassuring smile graces his lips

Beside him, Princess Mia commands attention with unwavering confidence, her voice ringing out with authority, "They are not worthy to rule over our sacred lands," she declares, her words cutting through the tension like a sharpened blade. Her gaze pierces through the gathered officials, her unwavering resolve a stark contrast to their shock, "Their sinister schemes amount to nothing short of treason against the kingdoms they swore to protect," she continues, her tone unwavering, "We demand their immediate dethronement and call for this wedding to be transformed into a coronation for both myself and Prince Jaeyun."

The reaction from the royal box is instantaneous, a cacophony of outraged protests and indignant exclamations filling the air. The two Kings, their faces flushed with fury, rise from their seats in a display of unbridled anger, their voices drowned out by the resounding tumult.

“You cannot do this! I am the rightful King of Glengyre,” Jaeyun’s father shouts across the room.

Jaeyun smiles mockingly to his father, “You are right, we cannot do this, not without a vote from the people of our kingdoms,” he says matter of factly.

As the commotion reaches its peak, Jaeyun and Princess Mia stand firm, their resolve unshaken by the storm of dissent around them. Together, they face the fury of the royal box with unwavering determination, their eyes locked in a silent exchange of solidarity.

Despite the chaos, Jaeyun's voice rises above the din, his words infused with unwavering conviction, "We will not allow our kingdoms to be held hostage by the greed and treachery of a few individuals," he declares, his tone ringing out with authority. "It is our duty as leaders to uphold the values of justice and integrity, to safeguard the well-being of our people above all else."

Princess Mia adds her voice to his, her words echoing his sentiments with equal fervour, "We stand united against tyranny and corruption," she proclaims, her gaze sweeping over the crowd with steely resolve, "Together, we will forge a future built on trust, compassion, and unity."

Heeseung looks to you, eyes wide as if begging for answers, yet, you cannot offer him any. You knew Jaeyun had a plan but to go out on a limb like this was not what you were expecting. Shaking your head, your eyes scan the crowd to see their reaction, each face equally as shocked as they are appalled by the Kings’ true intentions with this union.

“Please stand with us. If you wish for Princess Mia and myself to be respective leaders of our kingdoms, Say I,” Jaeyun exudes confidence in his stature but you look at his hand which is fiddling with his jacket, a telltale sign that he is nervous.

Who would not be nervous? This could end in death for both Jaeyun and Princess Mia. If they do not have the people on their side, the Kings will seek to execute them, that much is a given.

The guests in the pews whisper to one another, the discussions hushed as they consider Jaeyun’s words. Your heart races as you await the collective response from the guests. Will they stand with Jaeyun and Princess Mia, or will fear and uncertainty prevail, leaving them isolated and vulnerable to the wrath of the Kings? The air is heavy with anticipation, each second stretching into an eternity as the fate of Glengyre and Lethamhill hangs in the balance.

“I,” a voice from beside you yells out, causing you to flinch. Heeseung, the once esteemed royal guard makes the first vocalisation of agreement. It shocks you considering he was always one to worship the king, “I give my faith to a new king,” he stands forward, kneeling before Jaeyun.

His actions cause a domino effect, echoes of ‘I’ and ‘Here here’ can be heard throughout the hall, each person projecting their trust in their Prince and Princess. 

The prince looks at you with pleading eyes, hoping your trust can be stretched to this moment. 

“I,” you say, the words are lost amongst the commotion but Jaeyun sees it, the love in your eyes, the trust in him to lead the kingdom you hold dear to your heart. Although he must get the approval of all his people, you are the one he needs it from the most. Without your support, he doesn’t feel fit enough to be King.

“Guards, please see the Kings out,” he orders before turning to face the bishop, “Would you do the honours of coronating us, your grace,” he bows, showing his respect.

“Kneel before me, Your Highness,” the Bishop speaks softly.

The hall once filled with chaos and debacle is now silent, smiles and hearts full as their honourable Crown Prince is made King of Glengyre. You have never felt pride for the royal family, but you know that will all change now.

As he is crowned, a hush falls over the hall, a reverent silence that speaks volumes of the significance of this moment. Jaeyun, now King of Glengyre, rises from his kneeling position with a newfound solemnity, his eyes shining with determination and purpose. Beside him, Princess Mia also kneels, her hand clasped firmly in his as they prepare to lead their kingdoms into a new era of prosperity and unity.

The Bishop's voice carries through the hall as he recites the ancient words of coronation, his tone reverent and ceremonial. With each word spoken, the weight of responsibility settles upon Jaeyun's shoulders, a reminder of the solemn duty he has undertaken to rule justly and with compassion.

As the final words of the coronation ritual echo through the hall, Jaeyun and Princess Mia exchange a meaningful glance, their bond strengthened by the vows they have made before their people. They will do what their fathers couldn’t.

“There is to be a party to celebrate the union tonight, the entirety of the kingdoms are invited,” King Jaeyun proclaims, beaming with pride before ushering Queen Mia out of the hall.

With the commotion of happiness and celebration, you get swept up by Heeseung, swinging you around in his arms. The feeling leaves you with a sense of purpose and gratitude to both rulers of the kingdoms. They did what most would be too scared to do, a testament to their love for their citizens.

_____

The night sky above Glengyre is ablaze with the glow of a thousand lanterns, casting a warm and inviting light over the festivities below. The sound of laughter and music fills the air, mingling with the tantalizing aroma of roasted meats and spiced wines. People from all walks of life gather in the grand courtyard of the castle, their differences set aside as they come together to celebrate the dawn of a new era. Never in your years of living did you think you would ever see such a promise for the people.

Jaeyun ordered carriages and carts to bring those on the outskirts of the kingdoms to the castle, making good on his promise. He wanted everyone to be part of this victory, especially those who had suffered at the hands of his father.

Effortlessly, Jaeyun navigates through the people, garnering respect and esteem from everyone he comes into contact with. He pauses to meet and converse with both royalty and peasants, his sincere kindness and humility converting even the most cynical minds.

Barrels of liquor and wine line the perimeter, and long tables creak beneath the weight of indulgent treats, transforming the courtyard into a true feast. Musicians play lively tunes, encouraging guests to dance and revel late into the night.

You, amidst the crowd of celebrants, are witnessing a momentous occasion. You are witnessing how a kingdom ripped apart by conflict and division can come together under a banner of growth and optimism. And you see that Glengyre's future is more promising than ever when you see the happy smiles of your fellow citizens.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Jaeyun’s low voice whispers beside you as he rests his hand on the lower part of your back. Instinctively, you go to move away, scared to be seen, but he holds you in place, hand gripped tight.

Looking into his eyes, you find yourself lost in the depths of his gaze, each flicker of light reflecting his unwavering determination. His touch sends a shiver down your spine as he gently kisses your hand, a gesture that feels both intimate and surreal.

"I trust you to be a fine king," you murmur softly, sincerity lacing every word. "It already looks good on you," you add with a playful smirk, admiring his regal presence and undeniable charisma.

Jaeyun chuckles, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes as he spins around, basking in your laughter. The joyous sound fills the air, a melody that he never tires of hearing. When he finally stands before you again, his expression grows serious, his hands still clasping yours.

"You know, being a queen would look good on you," he remarks, his tone teasing yet earnest.

You scoff incredulously, unable to fathom such a notion. "Perhaps one could dream of that in another lifetime."

"Why not this one?" Jaeyun counters, his gaze unwavering as he meets your eyes.

Confusion clouds your features as you struggle to comprehend his meaning. Before you can protest further, he continues, his words carrying a weight that leaves you breathless.

"Well, I am a king without a queen. It does look rather pathetic, doesn’t it?" he jests lightly, his smile masking the gravity of his declaration. "But with you by my side…"

The implications of his words hit you like a bolt of lightning, leaving you reeling in disbelief. "You cannot make me queen, Jaeyun," you protest weakly, your heart fluttering erratically at the mere thought.

Jaeyun's smile softens, his gaze filled with tenderness as he squeezes your hands reassuringly. "But when I marry you, you will not have a choice."

The weight of his proclamation hangs heavy in the air, each syllable sinking into your consciousness with undeniable clarity. To marry Jaeyun is a dream beyond your wildest imaginings, a fantasy that you never dared to entertain. Yet here he stands, offering you a future that you once believed to be unattainable.

"That is preposterous, Jaeyun. You can’t marry a maid," you protest, the words tumbling from your lips in a mixture of disbelief and awe.

Shrugging, he lets go of your hands, “It is not the most scandalous thing I have done this week,” he smirks, eyebrows wiggling as you both recall the events that just happened a mere few hours ago.

Taking the ring from his right pinky finger, he holds it out to you, face serious now, "Marry me," he implores, his voice filled with earnestness, "be the queen our people need. I trust no one but you to help guide me to better serve this kingdom."

Your throat tightens with emotion, tears brimming in your eyes as you gaze at the ring before you, a symbol of love and commitment. It is a moment that takes your breath away, a choice that will shape the course of your future and the destiny of your kingdom.

As you reach out to take the ring, the weight of Jaeyun's words hangs heavy in the air. Marrying him would mean stepping into a world of royalty, a world you never imagined yourself a part of. Yet, with each passing moment, the idea becomes more alluring.

But reality crashes in, reminding you of the vast chasm that separates your worlds. "Jaeyun, you know I cannot," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with both longing and resignation, "I am but a maid, not worthy of such a title."

Jaeyun's expression softens, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine, "You are worthy of so much more than you realise, Y/N," he insists, his voice gentle but unwavering, "You have already proven yourself to be a queen in every way that matters."

His words resonate within you, stirring something deep within your soul. For so long, you had resigned yourself to the confines of your station, never daring to reach for something beyond your grasp. But now, faced with the possibility of a future with Jaeyun, you find yourself daring to believe in the impossible.

Gently, he slides the ring onto your finger, and you feel a rush of warmth flood through you as if sealing a pact with destiny itself. Looking up at Jaeyun, you find yourself unable to speak, overwhelmed by the enormity of the moment.

Without a word, Jaeyun pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if to reassure you of his love and commitment. In that embrace, you feel a sense of belonging, a sense of purpose that you never thought possible.

“I love you, Y/N. I am at your mercy as your future husband and as your king.”

You smile widely, sniffling away the happiness of tears that fall from your face, “I love you, too, Jaeyun. I vow myself to you forever.”

Your husband-to-be kisses the top of your head as he pulls away, joy radiating from every atom of his being, “Let us celebrate, perhaps in the council chamber?” he teases, fingers trickling up your forearms.

With a sarcastic rolling of your eyes, you follow him. Not just for tonight, but forever.

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #jake smut #jake sim smut #aj writes #enhypen angst #enha angst

[falmerbrook]

Ear Headcanons

So this was meant to be just my headcanon for the differences between the different mer races' ears (size, shape, if they can move on their own, etc.), but there's a tinge of just general visual differences between them in there too (because this ended up being really good face practice for me). I'll mostly talk about ears though. Obviously this is more meant to be general trends than hard and fast rules.

I'll start with the playable races.

Altmer

Tall and skinny ears that can move out and back a bit (moderate range of motion). They mostly are close to the head but can also stick out a bit.

Dunmer

They have a wide variety of how their ears can be shaped; small, tall, wide, big, straight up, curvy, etc. The typically stick out more than Altmer's and have a larger range of motion.

Bosmer

The largest variety of any of the races. Their ears can look like just about anything any other race has (except maybe Maormer) from any mer ears, to more human ears, to more animal-like ones. They have a large range of motion regardless of how they look.

Orsimer

Small, almost human-sized ears, but they stick out more from the head than humans and can be wider. The pointed end tends to stick out. They can rarely move.

Breton

Breton basically just have human ears with a little point at the top. I thought it would be fun to draw a sort of comparison to your average Nede and average Breton to highlight the subtle more merish look that I think Bretons should have too.

Ok now for non-playable races

Snow elves/Falmer

Ok so I have terminal Falmer brainrot so I have a lot of completely made up headcanons for these guys sorry lol.

Snow elves have the least variety. They are usually shorter and closer to the head than the other mer races (which evolved as an adaptation to counter frostbite in my headcanon) and can't move. Conversely, I like to headcanon that falmer are on their way to evolving rudimentary echolocation, and therefore have huge ears that stick out far from their head, and are very mobile (this is also why their faces are covered in wrinkles). They can look more traditionally merish, or some of them have real funky shapes.

Chimer

Basically a mix between how the Altmer/Aldmer and current Dunmer look (both in their general appearance and ears). Think of it like the transition between the Aldmer look and Dunmer.

Dwemer

Dwemer have relatively short ears (compared to other mer) and don't stick out much, but they can be wide along the side of the head. Their shape is usually pretty angular and have limited mobility.

Aldmer

Your standard pointy fantasy elf ears. So I technically headcanon the Aldmer as many different (although similar) groups that are referred to as one group due to the nature of retelling history and some propaganda sprinkled in there, but in general, since the other mer of Tamriel descended from them, I see them as sort of generic. Nothing particularly notable in their ears. Minimal to moderate ability to move them.

Ayleid

Curvy. They have Aldmer sized ears with twisting and curving in different directions. Limited movement, and not too much range in size (just shape). I have 0 reasons for thinking this, I just thought it would be fun and unique and maybe fit their aesthetics.

Maormer

I like that canon Maormer ears look fin-like but I want to turn it up to 11. Large variety of shape and size, but usually large and fin-shaped as a general trend. Huge range of movement.

Ohmes/Ohmes-raht

They aren't elves, but they are described as human/mer-like, so I figured I'd include the Ohmes. They usually have pointy, mer-esque ears, but less distinct than most mer. Despite being relatively small, they have a wide range of movement for their size (and move in similar ways to the way cats ears move for the rest of the Khajiit). They can be extra fuzzy or have little tufts at the end for Ohmes-raht.

#the things i spend my time thinking about.... #these were so fun to make though #tes #the elder scrolls #skyrim #morrowind #eso #headcanon #mine #my art #do i dare tag all of them... #altmer #dunmer #bosmer #orc #snow elf #falmer #chimer #dwemer #ayleid #maormer #i was putting a lot of thought into the general trends of other racial characteristics while making this too but im just gonna stick to ear #for this post #maybe ill make one for eyes one day #long post

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Cruel Prince

♡ featuring: villain!diluc ragnvindr x princess!reader

♡ summary: you are forced to marry the manipulative prince of a faraway kingdom. malicious compliance ensues. wc: 3.2k+

♡ cw/tw: afab, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, forced orgasm, hate sex, no foreplay, breeding, heavy choking, spanking, face slapping, spit, creampie, hair pulling, rough sex, diluc is mega possessive

notes: I promiseee im gonna come out with shorter fics im so sorry i couldn't help myself the fanart is so good :(( art by eriimyon on twitter <3

Brilliance freckled through the silk drapes of your extravagant windows and onto your resting face. A silhouette rubs your arm, followed by “You must wake now, Your Grace.” Her amiable tone made your heavy eyes ajar, looking up to see the sweet twinkle of the maid. You sit up and stretch, letting out an exaggerated yawn. “Good morning!” you exclaim. She tucks the straggly hairs aside.   

“Good afternoon, you mean?”  

“Oh. Oops.” She shakes her head and hands you a lukewarm meal. This was a frequent occurrence, staying up late to twirl in your room until your feet ached. Fantasizing about the enchanting gambol you would share with your lover. When you eventually collapsed, you would dream of a man whisking you off to dance in a meadow. Being confined to the limited space of the baroque palace only intensified your curiosity. The kingdom your parent's shoulder is fruitful. Lined with riches and grateful civilians, all you know is comfortability. That comfortability bored you.  

“The king would like to speak with you downstairs once you’ve settled” she states. You give an exasperated sigh and flop onto the featherbed. You weren’t looking forward to this meeting. “M’kay. Thanks. Love you.”    

You make your way toward the dining room after breakfast. Almost every painting you skip by is of your older brother. It was no secret that you weren’t the favorite child. Your father wasn’t particularly fond of having a daughter. You slide down the railing of the grand staircase, entering the still air. Even the sound of your tiptoes carries volumes in complete quiet.  

“Did... someone die?” you say, trying to break the ice. Your brother and mother sit across from each other with their heads down, afraid to interrupt the king who sat at the end of the dining table.  

“No. Have a seat (Y/N).” he says, his hand signaling to the multitude of chairs remaining. You take the middle. Your father looks more stressed than usual, crescent shapes embedded between his eyebrows.  

“There is something we have to discuss” he proclaims, interlocking his fingers. “Sure.”  

“There’s been some disputes... between us. And the kingdom of Ragnvindr. Their king has been ill for many years now.”   

“That’s too bad for them” you say, checking out of the conversation. You know of the Ragnvindrs, but you weren’t interested. “It is. However, their commerce is flourishing. The civilians have an excess of resources. They’re the central hub for wine. If we had access to that, we could provide greatly for the public.”  

“Mm, okay.” Your mind darts to unique spots of detail decorating the ceiling.  

“Do you remember talking to Prince Diluc?” It hadn’t jogged your memory until now, but you recall one time the flaming redhead came to the palace a few months ago. You saw him in passing; exchanging few words in light-hearted conversation before he met with your father. You noted the calm scarlet pupils and his attentiveness when you spoke. He seemed amicable until you uncovered the rumors. Whenever your mother invited her friends, the walls would erupt with gossip. You couldn’t help but listen through the door. “- he tried to kill his father!” Your mother declines but another woman chimed in. “People don’t get suddenly ill like that. He must’ve poisoned him! The poor man can’t talk anymore so Prince Diluc runs everything.”  

“He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. Anyone who disagrees with him is beaten. Even death!” you heard the dramatic drawl of another. “Oh please, not with his brother around.” You thought it was funny and went straight to the maid to parrot their pompousness. It wasn’t until his brother died in their home weeks later under “mysterious circumstances”, that you started to take the allegations seriously.  

“He’s shaping out to be an exceptional young man.”  

“I guess. Why are you telling me this?” you ask. Your father sucks in a breath.  

“You are to marry Prince Diluc in a week’s time.” he declares. You freeze, beads of sweat collecting on your forehead. Your heart dropped to your stomach.  

“What? Whe- who decided this?”  

“It was a collective decision from me, your mother, and the Ragnvindrs.”  

“No! I didn’t get to decide. You took away my choice!”  

“(Y/N), this will ensure peace for both of our kingdoms. We shall do what’s best for the-”  

“I don’t know who he is. How could you do that to your own daughter, what kind of father marries their child off to a stranger?” Your voice gets increasingly louder. You were too irate to back down. Your father is seething. 

“We will not argue about this-” he mumbles, the veins on his hands bulging from the tightening fists. 

“Do you even know who he is? He killed his own brother, and his people fear his retaliation. He’ll backstab you at any chance if it means more power. He’s using you-”  

“ENOUGH!” Your father slammed his leaden fists on the table, causing a harrowing bang to ring in your ears. All you can do is look at him, shaking, searching for any semblance of hope. He was unwavering.  

“I hate you.” Your defeated voice falls to a murmur, and you stumble to your room in a haze.  

The next 6 days were vague. You stayed in your room mostly, the maid accompanying you as you cry on and off for hours. Rage burned inside you, it dented furniture and ripped up cushions. You were exhausted and vengeful. An instructor comes by occasionally to teach you for your wedding day, but you find no joy in it.  

You're tranquil in the luxuriant flower garden you once found solace in. A garden you’d never see again after tonight. Suddenly, you hear the gate creak open. Strawberry strands peek behind the sunflowers. It was Diluc. The silence was painful. “Hello.”  

“Hello. I figured it would be considerate to come see you briefly” he returns, grabbing your hand. You catch yourself staring.  

“We are to be married soon.”  

“...Right.”  

“You don’t seem to be happy about this arrangement.”  

“I’m sure you have many requests for your hand in marriage. Why me?”  

“I don’t have a say in it. You don’t either.” That can’t be right, their king is senile you thought.   

“That’s not true. I know what you’re really like.” His eyes narrow into yours. “You could turn this entire kingdom to ash if you willed it.”  

“You know naught of me.”  

“You killed your brother and now you’re after my father, aren’t you?” He’s relaxed despite the accusations.  

“What would you do? As long as we are wedded, you will obey.” You snatch your hand from him.  

“I will do no such thing” you utter, holding your head high. He laughs and lifts your chin with a finger, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek.  

“Such a naïve princess, so far beneath me. You will be mine. Act accordingly.” You want to slap that smug look off his face.  

“I’ll be going now. Don’t stay up too late.”  

Everything about your wedding is opulent. Visitors sport grandiose garments and intricate jewelry, leaving priceless gifts in your celebration. The travel to the kingdom of Ragnvindr was silent, minus the glares you shot to your parents. You disappear the minute you step down the aisle, taking notice of the guests. Faceless people with appropriated smiles and forced words of kindness; a scornful masquerade.  

Your vows are pitiful, and you wear an ingenuine smile for every “aww” in attendance. “I do” is said, and your fate is sealed through a chaste kiss.  

The dance arrived sooner than you thought. The floor was large and elegant, a thousand eyes watching you at the start of the staircase. You almost get stage fright. Diluc waits at the bottom, his gloved hand longing to take yours. You saunter to him. You expected him to be stiff and unprepared, but as you held his hand something changed. He scoops you by the waist with the other and twirls you around, igniting the music. His steps are effortless, bringing you near him and releasing you for another spin. The movements lift you into a different scene, of green pastures and bright blue sky. Only you and Diluc. The tune curled in your ears and whispered radiance. Your stride is loose, guided by the inducing notes and swinging pendant on your neck. Your arms glide past his chest and he steadies you gently in an intimate embrace. Dilucs lips barely hover over your ear.  

“You look stunning.”  

“I know. You look grotesque.” You feel a puff of wind against your ear. Glancing at him, you haven’t paid much attention to his appearance until now. His physique seemed to be chiseled from the finest marble, intentional with each contour. He smelled of musk and bitter vanilla, the warm glow of glittering chandeliers highlighting his rugged features.  

“You like what you see, hmm?” You didn’t reply.  

“Do you like to dance?”  

“It’s not your business.”  

“Well, if I'm right, you can dance here every day if you want. But you must behave.” His honeyed words made you hot, and you looked away. “No. You are my enemy.”  

“Very well, then.” He continued to entrap you, sewing seeds in your brain through the sway of your bodies. You were tangled in a field of thorns, pricked by his fleeting romantic gestures. It confused and enticed you. But the dance came to its end, and reality set in. He leaned down to kiss your hand, his gaze never leaving yours. The music resumes its normal pace, motioning people to return to the dance floor.  

The idea of Diluc displaying you like property tests your pettiness; you need his unruffled persona to snap. He watches you dance into the arms of another man, and you’re sure to make eye contact with him. You flash a mischievous smile as you spin through the exuberant crowd, leaving him behind. You thought you lost him. Just then, shade abruptly comes down on you and the nameless man. He turns first, cowering and slinking into the masses. You don’t face the shadow until your face is grabbed by leather and twisted sharply to encounter the reddening face of Diluc.  

“Have you lost your mind?”  

“If I’m beneath you, this shouldn’t bother you, right?” you say, smiling at your ability to break him.  

He grits his teeth. “You are forbidden from interacting with any man.”  

“By whom? Your words mean nothing.” He gets closer to you; a death stare bore into your pleased expression. “If you’re angry, do something.”  

You’ve never been hauled anywhere this fast. He pulled you through the bustling room and up the stairs with absurd force, not turning to you once. You were nearly hovering off the ground from his strength. He opened the sculpted doors leading to his bedroom and pushed you inside. Before you can see him, he pins you between himself and the ornate vanity. His nails stab into the wood the more he waits for your explanation.   

“What happened to your composure?” you taunt.  

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”  

“Not yours.” His lips share space with yours, noses scarcely touching.   

“Sorely mistaken. You belong to me.”  

“Prove it.”   

Carnal lust washed over you. Your lips instantly collide, cracking dams of yearning through sloppy kisses and smacking teeth. His tongue is demanding and seeks entry, but you deny him. He grabs your neck tightly.  

“Open.”  

“Say please.” Diluc pries your lips open with his fingers, playing with the wet mass while he nips your ear. The foreign feeling in your mouth makes your mind numb.  

“Nasty little minx.” he husks, forcing your tongue to stick out before it contacts his. His kisses are deep and primal, holding you close to the point of merging. He’s squeezing your neck occasionally and teasing the dizzying airflow. The fire cascading down his back envelopes you in a slow bleed, tickling your chest and face. His scent surrounds you, exhilarates you. You pierce his bottom lip with your teeth, looking to regain some sense of control and he groans from the feeling. He promptly hoists you off the ground with your back facing the vanity and his hands on your ass. His greed doesn’t stop, plunging and contorting the organ in unreachable places. You taste sprinkles of metallic flavor. The sensation has your knees weak. You push him away, both breathing heavily with a trail of spit between you.   

“This is nothing like the ceremony kiss.”  

“Don’t you want my full honesty?” he rasped. He dips down to your upper thigh, past the slit in your dress. His pointed fangs catch onto your garter, and he slips it off, groping the plush flesh as he lifts your leg up. Your fingers intertwine with his scalp and tug it, earning a harsh bite on your inner thigh. Rough kisses drag up your body until he makes it back to your lips. You tear his button-down open, navigating the solid muscle under the fabric. Light purple marks are left in your wake that decorate his collarbone. Diluc splits your dress down the back and shreds it off you. You're soaked, relishing in the volatile nature beyond the mask.  

He picks you up and hurls you on the bed, following you on top. You wrestle for dominance, entwined in passion. Somehow, Diluc ends up underneath you, your legs on both sides of him. You take this opportunity to pin his wrists and grind on his throbbing length. He lets you have it knowing that he’s stronger than you are. He kicks off his slacks and you pull down his stained boxers. A sudden fear hits you once they’re removed; his slightly curved cock was impossibly long and girthy, precome trickling down the angry tip. You weren’t sure it would fit.  

“You’re just going to gawk at it?” he says, restless from the ache. Nervousness blends in your gut. You wanted him badly, but you had to make him suffer for at least some time. Hovering over it, you slather his tip in your juices and admire the way he bites his lip. You lower your folds onto him, submerging the cockhead and leave it there, stirring your hips with it inside only to pull it out. Diluc is disheveled, star fished, and spread wildly across the sheets as he grunts from each plunge. He had to feel you, to claim you. 

“You want it?”  

“I don’t beg” he says flatly. You roll your eyes, immersing his shaft halfway. He releases a long shaky groan and attempts to buck his hips, but you rise before he can go further. His cock was covered in syrupy fluids from the moments of friction, and he didn’t know how much more he could take. 

“You won’t get anything with that repulsive attitude” you tease, and start moving at a leisurely pace, carefully stretching yourself out.  

“Repulsive, yet using me for your desires?”  

“That’s all you’re good for.” You’re shuddering from the feeling of your walls molding to the bruising size.  

“Then I’ll be sure to satisfy you.” His calloused fingers break out of your sparing clutch and grab your hips, jerking you down to the hilt with a soggy plap. The wind is knocked out of you, shockwaves through your spine as you heaved over trembling. It hurts, but you can’t help but feel aroused by the desperate look he gave you. “Mm good, you’re sucking me so tight.”   

“Shit- slow down-” you plead. He wraps his arms around your hips, arching your back and leaning you forward. “Quiet.” Diluc bends his knees and begins to bully his way into your cunt.  His thrusts are unforgiving, if he wasn’t holding you in place, you’d be airborne. He slips out completely and rams into you so deep it feels like he's burrowing into your stomach; yet you grip him like a vice, hungry for more. You were melting and all you heard was his quick beating heart and the wet squelching clash of your bodies. Diluc shifts to the vanity mirror opposite the bed, entranced by the violent rippling of your ass and sticky strings your puffy vulva left. You’re teeming on an orgasm, blurring the lines of pleasure and pain. 

“I’m gonna come- ah!” His hands move to your ass, striking each side hard enough to welt numerous times. He digs his nails into the searing flesh, savoring it. “Louder, I want everyone to know who owns you” he says and pushes his fingers in your mouth to pull your jaw slack. You deliver, allowing your erotic wails to echo through the halls. “Come for me princess.” His command sends you over the edge and you’re dissolved into pleasure, zeroing in on his guttural moans, the low fuck’s stuttering out of him. Your nails score his chest. He spreads your backside, enjoying the view of your convulsing heat drenching his balls.  

Diluc flips you over on your back before you’re done gathering yourself. He tosses the damp shirt on the floor and reveals the crisp v-line deliciously carved under his sculpted abs. He manhandles you into a pretzel, securing your sore thighs. He puts his hands on yours and pushes them back further. “Fucking filthy, you’re such a mess” he says, smearing his leaking shaft up and down your hypersensitive clit. He quickly engulfs himself in your gooey warmth again and sighs. “You’re beautiful like this.” He’s pounding hard, foreheads touching and breath mixing. You’re both sweating, mascara running down your cheeks and needy moans leaving either of you from addictive ecstasy. His tip licks your sweet spot consistently and your eyes loll back. “That’s it, take my cock like a good wife.” One hand reaches for your throat while the other flicks your clit rapidly. The firm grip dots your vision black, and you pulse from sick delight. He stops occasionally to slap you across your face. It stings, you hate him, but the spasming veins caressing your walls make you question that belief. “Oh my god - look at you” he moans, staring at the shiny white ring forming at the base of his thrusts. Your hands find passage in his thick tresses and guide his attention to you. The coil threatened to snap at any minute. “Gonna carry my baby, then you can never leave.”  

Your blood runs cold. “Huh? Wait-” You try to budge but he’s stronger than you, sweeping the nub faster with ravenous strokes. Electricity consumes your rational thoughts with a thumping finish, cloudy and fluttering. “Ngh- you’ll look so pretty with a belly” Diluc groans and chases his high. His eyes are glossed over, he throws his head back and finally falls apart, creamy ropes coating your insides with his balls flush against you. He pants as if he’s moved mountains and twitches from slow strokes, trying to get his come as deep in you as possible. His thumb presses upon your lips and you instinctively open your mouth. Spit settles on your tongue and he watches you swallow. You taste his kiss right after. When he pulls out, globs of semen dribble out your slit, but he fingers it back inside.   

“Keep it in” he says darkly. He glances at the pendant you’re still wearing—an invaluable heirloom from your parents—and snatches the chain off your neck. In one devastating hurl, he shatters it on the floor. “I’ll make sure you only have me.” 

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #genshin diluc #diluc x you #diluc smut

[ch4nb4ng]

Marital Duties

Pairing: Chan x afab!reader

Word count: 9.4k

Genre: Established relationship, married

Warning: SMUT (18+ only), phone sex, sexting, car sex, mention of boobs, oral sex (f. receving), penetration, swearing, mention of cum, mentions of pussy, kissing, praise

Note: ok i kinda nervous to post this but yas! Here is my inspo (here) (here) (here) warning it’s literally p word.

Tagged: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree @kpopsstuffs

Summary: Having a job that meant travelling and spending time away from your husband made the absence grow much fonder for you and your needs, as well as your husbands.

Work conferences were the bane of your existence. Yes you were away from your kid and sometimes it was hard, but being away from your husband was harder. There was no doubt about your job. Being a world renowned forensic psychologist was amazing and something you wanted for a long time. Sometimes though, it was nice to just curl up on the couch, read a good book, watch a comforting movie; there was nothing wrong with indulging in self-care, you just did not have the time to do so. 

The recent promotion into becoming head of the north-west region of mental health care was a big step up from your previous job. No one than you was more qualified for this. Everyone, colleagues and board members put your name up. Psychology was your life, but your family was bigger. 

Highschool sweethearts, you and your husband had been inseparable since what felt like the dawn of time. Meeting at 15, having your first dance at 17 at prom. Graduating and going to college together; If you had a dollar for everytime you accomplished a big milestone with him or because of him, you would be swimming in luxury. When the two of you got married, things just fell into place even more. The doubt of being able to help people mentally after graduating from your post grad made you nervous, but then again, you never thought that you would be married to such a wonderful man. A dream job at your local hospital fell into your lap, and your husband became the nurse that everybody wanted to assist them with their care. Working in close contact with him everyday was just another blessing in disguise; you simply could not get enough of him. It was impossible to get sick of him.

That was when you decided to have your first child. What could be a better mix than the two of you combined? The first 4 years of parenthood came with its challenges. Nevertheless, it was the best decision you ever made, and you couldn’t think of anyone better than to share the unfamiliar journey with.

The promotion, however, meant that you wouldn't work with your husband as much, and spending time with your daughter was a little limited, but you knew he would never tell you to turn something down, and in a way it was the best decision for your marriage. The times together were shorter, but it also meant that every moment was savored tenfold. The time was better quality, the acts of service more thoughtful, and the sex. The sex, was that much more passionate, just like the first time he made love to you. He would always find ways to surprise you. Whether it was the way he grasped, grabbed you on the fibers that lingered to be touched, the way his body pressed upon yours, lips lingering on new places. You were always amazed with how much he could do, and what he was capable of.

These are the ideas that tortured your mind when you were away on business trips. Calling him and hearing his voice, seeing his face through the tiny phone screen was not enough. It didn’t matter how long you had been together, you always craved and missed him significantly.

“Hang on,” he whispered through the phone speaker, “someone wants to say hi to you.”

Your heart beamed with joy every time you saw her little face on the screen. God she looked like her dad, and you knew she'd  grow up to be a beautiful woman.

“Hi mommy,” she giggled, fingers crinkling then uncrkinly as she waved at the camera, “I miss you mommy.”

“Aw baby,” you pouted, “I miss you too. Mommy will be home tomorrow. Now it’s time for you to sleep.”

“Yes,” he cooed, “and daddy is going to read you a bedtime after you say goodnight to mommy.”

Your baby squealed with joy, running out of the frame and to her room. You could do nothing but chuckles, careless that she was that excited over a book of words that she forgot to say goodnight.

“Let me call you back at 15.”

You nodded, pressing the red cross before rolling on your back and looking up at the ceiling, admiring the off white paint color, heart beating out of your chest every second that the callback was not made. It’s not that you were worried he wouldn’t call back, you just felt that longing you always did when you weren’t looking at him.

The vibration on your chest was extra sensitive. You rolled back over, now lying on your front with your hand resting on your chin, other hand holding the phone as you answered. 

“Hey baby.”

“Hiiii,” you whispered, a smile on your face impossible to be rid of.

“She was out like a light.”

“I’m glad.”

“How was your day, baby? I want to hear all about it.”

You giggled as you saw him get up, walking into the bathroom of your house as he placed you against the bench next to the sink. Chan wasn’t shy. He thought it was completely normal to remove his scrubs and leave his upper body bare as he bent down to the bottom drawer, taking out his skincare and placing it on his face. Chan was your husband. You had seen him shirtless 100 more times than you could count. It should not affect you this much. It should not make the temperature of your cheeks rise. It should not cause a sudden sharpness of change in your breath. It should not make your eyes bulge, and it should definitely not send you into a head spin when his biceps flexed when washing his face. Being a clinical psychologist meant having pristine precision and concentration, so if anybody got a hold of this live footage right now, they might question your profession.

“Y/n, Y/n?”

You blinked, quickly snapping your head to get back in the game. It was too late, however, your husband was already smirking at your distraction. You could try and play it off, but the both of you knew that he was too smart to fall for that.

“Sorry babe, I’m a bit distracted.”

“Oh yeah? What’s distracting you?”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, “you know exactly what you are doing.”

“Me?” He gasped, placing a hand on his chest, flexing his opposite bicep, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his obvious attempt to woo you over, the subtle flirt. Sometimes it was easy to resist, but in this case, it was easier to play along, feign innocence until he truly told you what he wanted. The two of you liked to play such games, especially when you were on the road. It was time for you to sit up, placing Chan on the lamp atop of the bedside table before placing yourself on the edge of the hotel bed. The buttons on your shirt were suddenly feeling a little tight. The smirk on your husband’s face grew the moment he saw the first two buttons undone, a sneak peak of your cleavage making its debut for the night. You stopped there, gently pulling down the fabric, stretching the collar of the shirt, consequently putting your chest on full display. 

“Two can play that game Mr. Bang.”

A deep chuckle escaped his lips as he walked over to your shared bedroom, placing his phone in similar fashion to yours before removing his bottoms, your husband now in nothing but his boxers as he laid down, stretching out his legs before lifting you again, wanting the closest view to your fingers continuing to remove one button at a time, a painfully slow movement to your fingertips. Fuck. Now he kind of regretted starting this game with you tonight. A gasp of gratification spilt from Chan’s lips as he watched the satin material that made up your shirt slither off those, in his words, gorgeous shoulders of yours. The black lace bra, the one being your husband’s favorites out of pure coincidence the only garment covering your chest. 

Chan loved every part of you, make no mistake. He would worship every part of your body 24/7 if he could. He simply could never get enough of you, but your chest, your breasts were on a whole different level. Chan loved your boobs. It didn’t matter what the two of you were doing, promiscuous acts or not, if he could have his hands on them, he could. Cuddling, sex, hugs; call him a pervert, but he didn’t care. It was his wife for god sakes. He would feel abnormal if he wasn’t attracted to them. Conveniently for you, this was something you could play to your advantage. Didn’t want to do the dishes? Show him your cleavage. Needed to put your daughter to sleep but you wanted him to do it? Promise him to show your cleavage after he does so. It was a convenient weapon to use, and this was the perfect time to use it. It was fair, seeing as he was using the weapon of his own to try and get you where he wanted.

“Aw come on,” he whined, “you did that on purpose?”

“Did what,” you smiled, fingers gently tracing the lace attached to the strap, “I didn’t do anything.”

Tapping the phone screen, you sighed. It was like, and your flight home was something that required you getting up much earlier that you would ever prefer. You should go to sleep. Hang up on him. You were going to see him tomorrow anyway, surely you could suppress your urges until then. 

But then you saw your husband redirect his palm from the outside of his undergarment, which was obvious to the eye, to the inside, a gentle slap against his skin as it dived past the waist band. Fuck this was cruel now. Not only because you could see his hands subtly tumbling underneath, he drew attention to how hard he already was, and you didn’t know what aroused you more: his probaby pulsating length or the fact that he was as aroused as he was because of you. It didn’t matter how many times it occurred, Chan always had a way of making you feel special. Physically, emotionally, intimately; it was part of his aura, and one of the main reasons that you were so attracted to him in the first place.

“Baby,” you gasped, hands traveling up waist and to your chest, gently kneading the mass in an attempt to match his slow pace that he was palming himself, “you’re so naughty. I have to go to bed.”

“Aw come on baby,” he groaned, head resting atop the headboard, gaze even more piercing at the angle his head was at rest, “I haven’t seen you all week.”

“I know Chan,” you sighed, your next words going to be knowingly disappointing for him, “I have to check out at 3am and it’s already almost 10. You know what I’m like when I don't get my beauty sleep.”

Chan gave you a disapproving pout as he took his hands out of boxers, a shiny ring reappearing from the undergarment as he took the phone with both and lay flat on his back, sinking under the sheets and head gliding onto the pillow. He was humbly accepting defeat, most likely because he would see you tomorrow anyway; that’s when he could have his fun.

“I know baby it’s ok,” he smiled, bringing his face as close as possible to the camera, lips still pouting, “let me give you a kiss goodnight.”

“Thank you baby,” you giggled, also leaning forward to kiss the phone screen simultaneously before whispering a small, “goodnight.”

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and the adrenaline from your almost raunchy rendezvous over the phone wore off quickly. You weren’t that young anymore. Getting tired was much easier. There was much less energy, especially after getting riled up like that. Even if it was what you saw while you were sleeping in your dreams, and you only have to wait 12 hours to see your beautiful husband in the flesh. 

***

The alarm caused a fright, a deep groaning sound of annoyance bellowing from you, but that quickly wore off. The immediate thought of seeing Chan and your beautiful daughter being the main reason for your sudden change in temperament. Your bags were already packed and you organized your brain knowing that you would be too tired to do it in the morning The smile on your face couldnt dared to be wiped off once you were in the taxi. The cool breeze of the warm summer hitting your face as you pushed the window in the back seat halfway down. Summer was your favorite time of the year, especially since it was the time you got to spend with your family that was of the best quality. All of the aspects of your job you loved, even the times you traveled. However, your heart did sink a little when you had to travel at this time of the year. The school holidays always felt too short, so when you had to travel, the amount was even shorter.

A ding from your phone brought out of your somewhat solemn daze, heat creeping to your cheeks immediately:

[hubby <3] 7:00 am Can’t wait to see you, hope there aren't any delays at the airport.

*one attachment*

Jesus fuck. Now sending a full blown dick pick with your daughter in the car, which you assumed was there, was definitely not the way to go; and thank god your husband knew that. But that did not let him off the hook. It was a photo of him, in the mirror, with his face cut off and only his lips in the frame. He was wearing a black sleeveless tank and those fucking grey tracksuit pants. Call yourself cliche, but nothing turned you on more than that particular piece of clothing. Chan had one hand on the camera, the other hand at the base of his hardened length. He always did this. As mature as Chan was, the times he chose to be inappropriate truly were the most inconvenient for you. A loud gasp escaped your lips, head almost hitting the chair in front as the driver came to a halt.

“Everything okay back there?”

“Uh yes,” your head snapped towards him, nodding furiously as a terrible attempt at acting in the norm, “why did we stop?”

“We are at the airport, miss?”

His tone sounded one of question, kind of looking at you in the rear mirror like you were one of the strangest passengers he had. You looked outside, a ferocious laugh escaping your lips as you decided it was better to say nothing and just pay, get out, and grab your own luggage. The awkwardness left your mind in shambles. How dare he send such a photo. Your husband. It was most likely to get revenge from last night, because he knew you would have to sit on the plane and suffer in silence.

Your luggage was checked in quickly, security easy to get through; there was plenty of time to wait in the boarding lounge. At first you were annoyed by the message. The sexual frustration that had already accumulated from your absence away from him was enough, but if anything, it felt like this was an extra punishment for last night.

But then you opened it again, started analyzing it (if you could call it that) until your finger was subconsciously in your mouth. It didn’t matter how many times you looked at him, your husband, he was always going to do it for you, every single time. The ache that has been coming and going throughout the week returned, and it made you annoyed. So annoyed that you found yourself lifting your butt from your chair, walking to the bathroom and locking yourself in one of the stalls. Gripping the bottom of your shirt, you pulled it down as much as you could without taking it off, mimicking a downward looking angle in an attempt to copy your husband, lips down as the camera clicked, off silent. Fuck. It’s fine. The idea that people may have heard the sounds of you taking a photo in the toilet. You were too fueled with a horny rage to think of the ramifications as you sent your photo, giving in and responding to him.

[Y/N] 8:30am No delays. Make sure you’re there on time.

*one attachment*

Oh, he was gonna hate that. Chan had patience for a lot of things. But short, dry messages were something that made him mad. Serves him for sending you that first. You knew exactly what his reaction would be as well, but at least you could board the plane in peace.

**

It was around 3 hours before the plane arose from one location and landed in another. The plane ride was painful. You tried to do the things you usually would. Create drafts for your patients, read a book, watch a downloaded netflix movie, and just sink into your non-reclining chair and relax; but you simply couldn’t.

The brain rot that was the simple image of your husband’s half naked torso should not be affecting you this much. But that was the problem too. It wasn’t just the picture. That image was the catalyst for the sexual rumination that had been numbing your brain for the past week. The want to get home was even stronger now knowing that you really had something to look forward to.

Of course, to your dismay and longing, the baggage claim took forever, security had a long line, and by the time all of that had been completed, it was, of course, an hour schedule that you told your husband to come and pick you up. The look on his face was sour to say the least. There he was, leaning against the exterior of your shared four wheel drive, drinking his probably now lukewarm coffee. The tingle instantly came back to your core, feeling like a teenage girl again. The scene was just like old times. Chan, waiting around the corner from your house to come and pick you up. The only thing that was different was that it was slightly taller, and had a few more wrinkles. Nonetheless, he looked super hot. Still wearing those grey sweatpants, and a fucking black tank. A fucking blank tank that was probably the tightest fitting pieceing of clothing in his fucking closet. His stance was strong, biceps, triceps, and ¾ of his pecs bulging out in public, and it was truly making your brain dizzy. You walked over quietly, the jarring sound of your suitcase wheels rolling along the parking lot concrete ruining the suspense of your arrival. Chan’s head snapped, eye widening the moment you appeared in his vision. 

“Hi baby, sorry I’m late the customs took for-”

The interruption was welcome as Chan shoved his phone in his pocket, apparently with an empty takeaway coffee cup falling to the floor as he enveloped you into his arms, a groan of admiration falling from his lips as they immediately attached to yours, your body to relaxing against his, eyes fluttering shut at his touch. God, it was only a week. One week, but you craved his touch more than anything in the world. It truly was the little things such as his calloused textures, the warmth of his skin, his smile. Holy fuck his smile was, in your opinion, the greatest thing in the world that ever existed. 

“Mmmh,” you hummed, gently pulling away, hands snaking across your husband’s waist, a smug smile on your lips, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too baby,” he growled, morning raspiness to his tone, “how was your flight?”

The implication of his question made your eyes ogle, the visual image of his text message imprinting on your brain. The smirk that developed on his face formed the expression of realization that hit you. Suddenly his grip on your waist was tighter, and Chan was pulling you in even closer, leaving you to feel everything; yes, everything. 

“It was good,” you giggled, knowing that you had been caught, “what was not good was your behavior since last night.”

“Hmm is that so? I don't see this being a one-sided activity?”

Your right hand left his torso, smacking him on the chest before taking a step back and walking to the car. It was fun to pretend to be annoyed, especially because you knew it would work your husband up even more. Chan hated when you sulked, especially when he playfully called you out. Chan always liked games, and so did you, because you knew that there was always one thing it would lead to. The longer the game went on, the more passionate the ending to this game would be. You walked into the car, peacefully sitting in the passenger seat as you left your husband to take your suitcase and place it in the boot. Serves him right for being a smartass. There was no sound except for the car door once the two of you were inside. The ignition was turned on, and so were you, watching your husband's arm reach over to the shoulder of your car seat, his head turned to look behind him. This was so dumb! You really should not be aroused by this; you’ve seen him do this thousands of times.

“You okay babe?”

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of this lustful daze, “yeah, why?”

“Ok it’s just,” he paused, shifting into drive, then placing his hand on the inside of your thigh, “you’re staring at me like a piece of meat.”

“I am not,” you scoffed, “you wish I was staring at you like that.”

He said nothing, a light chuckle following as the car fell into another silence. A comfortable one at that, well, to an extent. His thumb was gently nudging at your skin, knuckles inching closer to your center. There was something in the air, and the longer it lingered, the harder it was to ignore it. The want. The need to have him. It was impossible. You knew that even if you did get home soon that your daughter was home, and there was no way you were going to traumatize her like that; kids remember everything. If you took too long in the car, your father would get suspicious. He was one to get on your nerves like that, especially if he spent more time than agreed to watching your beautiful child. 

“I got your text message this morning.”

Chan’s eyes were on the road, which forced you to keep yours. Your eyebrows furrowed however, knowing that the street he just turned down was not the right way to your house. Instead, Chan turned the opposite direction, the car coming to an immediate stop at a lookout, but not just any lookout. The lookout east. The two of you came from a small town, meaning there weren't many spots to go; that was until the lookout east was uncovered. Back then it was the talk of the town, the go to hookup spot for many. You have seen it yourself. It had a beautiful view however, and most of the time you and Chan would go just to admire the view, but did not mean that every time would be an innocent one. The two of you had not been in years, and there was a big question mark as to why you were here right now. Chan said nothing, getting out of the car and walking over to your side, opening your own door before opening the back door, crawling in with you following. The two of you got comfortable, that was, until Chan pinned you down to the back seat, lips once again attacking yours as he pressed his horny groin into yours, a deep groan bellowing from your husband's chest. His dominance was easy to comply with, the desperate moan falling from your lips a culmination of feelings from the past 12 hours. This really could have been the horniest you have ever been in your whole entire life, even including the times of excessive sexual hormonal changes during pregnancy. His tongue snaked past your lips, without any slight of permission as his hips fell into a gentle rhythm. Chan moved with such delicacy and poise, yet somehow he was able to convey his ultra high level of arousal. Now you were in big trouble; it was serious business when Chan pinned you down like that. It meant he had serious business to take care of. 

“Chan,” you tried to speak, his lips interrupting each word, “what, are you doing?”

He pulled away, sitting up. Chan said nothing, eyes fixated on your chest as he grasped your wrist to pull you up, your body clumsily falling into him as you fixed your balance. Chan was quick to attack your lips again, hands making light work as they gripped onto the edge of your shirt. Your arms lifted unconsciously, allowing the kiss to break as he took off your shirt, your upper body in nothing but your undergarments. Your husband was like a kid in a candy store the moment he saw the slightest bit of cleavage. Chan’s arms wrapped around your back as he effortlessly unclasped the unwanted fabric, lips immediately attaching to your left nipple. A gracious moan fell from your lips, a hand tickling the back of the hair at the base of his skull, keeping a guidance. At first this tongue was small, gentle. A few kitty licks right in the center. Although it was minimal touch, you were one to have more sensitive nipples, so the feeling was already heaven enough. It wasn’t until his entire mouth was attached, a parietal noise of vacuum escaping his lips each time your tit went in and out of his mouth. 

“Mmmmm,” you hummed, back arching slightly at the subtle texture of his teeth, “you’re like fuckin newborn.”

“Mhh can’t help it,” he huffed, out of breath, hand replacing his lips for a brief moment, “makes me want to have another kid.”

Chan gave you no time to reply, lips resuming their position, but now on the opposite nipple. His fingers never stopped moving, either on your shoulder, running up and down your arms, but mainly on your breasts, doing whatever he can to feel you. Each squeeze of the mound brought a whine to your throat. His statement ran through your mind and just stayed there. Having another kid was not really something the two of you had ever spoken about. It wasn’t that it was off the table, no. It truly was just something that had not come up in conversation. You could understand why he wanted to have one, and in this moment especially, it had nothing to do with having an actual child. 

It is true that when you met your husband, your body shape resembled more of a P, but when you were pregnant with your daughter, Chan was on another planet. Any chance he got, his hands were on them. Call him twisted, but he loved how much bigger and softer they got when you were deep into pregnancy.

When you came back out of thought, and the major distraction of your husband's lips on your body, you pushed him away gently. You followed the sort of harsh motion with a gentle peck to his lips, arm wrapping around his neck as you smiled at him in disbelief. The last chance the two of you, well more him, had been so reckless like this was so long ago you would not even be able to recall. This didn’t mean you hated it though, if anything, it satisfied that little part of your adolescence that lingered. The adolescence that was always sparked whenever you were away. Whenever your calls turned to a lustful space. The photos. The phone calls. Usually the ‘rebellious’ behaviors were to compensate for the distance. But now, Chan was hungry for you, even when you were right in front of him.

“Babe, what has gotten into you?”

Your husband buried his face into your chest, a large breath filling his nostrils, your scent deeply satisfying him before he responded. 

“I just missed you a lot, baby. And that picture you sent drove me fucking wild.”

A smirk appeared on your lips, legs hovering over your husband's waist before encasing the lower limbs around his waist, a light amount of friction created by the swift move of your hips makes him hum in pleasure. Your eyes, now sitting on top of his lap, gazed over, looking down on the poor man. There was a slight emotion of guilt there. Depriving him of getting what he wanted. You didn't really care though. If anything, pissing him off usually led to better sex after, and there was nothing in this moment that you wanted more. 

“Mmmh, as much as I want this,” you mumbled, another soft kiss in between your sentences, “I need to go home and see my daughter which I have not seen in a week.” 

“You’re right,” Chan chuckled, “I am getting a little bit carried away, aren't I?” 

Yeah he was impatient, but he understood, and it was one thing you really loved about him. He was extremely empathetic, sometimes to a fault. Able to put himself in everyone else’s shoes. So as soon as you mentioned wanting to see your daughter more, he understood. He passed you your bra and shirt, quickly helping you put them back on, not without stealing another mouth watering kiss, and hopping back into the driving and passenger seat promptly. 

The drive was once again peaceful; which lasted around 30 seconds. Maybe it was a better idea to just fuck in the back of your car, because the ache between your legs, when reflecting on the past week, was at the most intense it had been. Maybe this was your karma for withholding your body from your very eager husband. It didn’t matter now because whether you liked it or not, all of this was going to have been scheduled at a much later, uncertain time.

Chan’s hand was placed on your thigh like before, the light background and the noise somewhat distracting you, but not for long. Your husband’s grip was getting stronger and stronger, inching closer and closer to your wanting pussy with each second. A sharp gasp left your lips when his middle finger traced over the hem of your jeans, your level of arousal heightened to the point where even the breeze most likely was enough to partly satisfy yourself.

“Chan.”

“Y/n.”

“Stop it,” you whined, fingers coincidentally fidgeting with the button of your jeans, following the same direction with your zipper before the pair of pants were below your waist, your bottom undergarments now on display. You looked down, embarrassed at the mass wet patch coating your panties. Your husband's hands took a little bit of a wander, but froze almost immediately when he felt that familiar patch he had felt oh so many times. The digits were quick to act, another moan spelling from your mouth as soon as he got you in the exact spot he knew to touch. That were the perks of having a husband, because whether the time of orgasm was long or short, he knew exactly where to touch you to make that happen.

“Your body is having the opposite reaction,” he smirked, “and my eyes are strictly on the road.”

“And keep it that way.”

“Mhmm,” he ignored, fingers somehow able to push your panties to the side, raw fingertips now spreading open those pussy lips. God you felt dirty, nasty. How could you do this in your fucking car? Too horny to even wait until you were in the comfort of your bedroom. You were much too harsh on yourself. It was most definitely your husband's fault for opening that can of worms the moment he rocked up on the facetime camera without his shirt on. Therefore, your humility was minimized, there were always much worse things you could have done. Chan was easily able to find that wanting little entrance of yours, two fingers effortlessly plunging themselves inside, the unsympathetic texture of his hard working fingers gently scratching the velvet interior of your walls, hips now gently rocking back and forth on him. Your hands came to your breasts automatically, pinching, twisting, flicking the sensitive buds in any way possible that could create a replica of Chan’s mouth from previous moments. Fuck, no one else could do you like your husband, even yourself.

“Fuck Chan,” you whimpered, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Shh it’s okay,” he cooed, coaxing you through his honey textured tone, “just let it feel good, worry about other things later.”

Just as you let your head fall against the headrest, eye fluttering shut, the car came to a halt. Eyes flying open, a mound of disappointment when your visual fields were filled with your front yard. To your dismay, your husband withdrew his fingers from your pussy, a large squelching sound in the moment as he placed his hands on the gear shift, placing the toe of your into park before turning the car ignition off. The look you were giving your husband now was one of sadness, despair, making him laugh. He loved when you were dramatic.

“You’re not happy to be home?”

“Shut up,” you huffed, redoing your pants up before storming out of the car, forcing your husband to grab your suitcase as you stood impatiently at the front door, waiting for him to open it. It would be impossible to wipe the puffed up look of content on his face, knowing that he got right under your skin. Games were fun to play, but you simply knew that if he didn’t give you what you wanted soon, the house would fall into chaos. It was one thing to wind you up, but this time it was too far to push through, then stop just when things were getting good.

A fake smile plastered on your face, the refreshing thought of seeing your daughter coming back into your mind as you walked through your abode. It faded however, unable to see or hear anything that resembled your little baby. It wasn’t until you walked down your long hallway that led to your kitchen that you saw the note on your marble bench. It read the following:

Hi Darling, hope you had a safe flight!

I have taken my beautiful granddaughter to the park for a playdate with a couple of her friends and the other available parents. 

We are leaving at around midday, and won’t be back for a few couple hours. Apologies you will have to wait a little longer, but I couldn’t say no to her beating eyes when she asked me.

I'll see you when I’m looking at you.

Dad

“Chan!”

Your timbre was loud, somewhat frightening your husband as he rolled your luggage across the floor, meeting you in your shared kitchen. He was kind of worried. Chan knew that your dad was taking care of her while he went to pick you up, but he never said anything about taking her out. He stood next to you, trying to analyze your expressions before you spoke. You missed your daughter a lot, there was nothing false about that statement. Nonetheless, when the smug look came to your face at the thought of what having an empty house implied, you couldn't help yourself. 

“Did you know that my dad took her to the park?”

Oh fuck. Chan thought he was in trouble; big big trouble. 

You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to suppress your smile at how hopeless he looked. Being the medical professional you were, it was easy to read your husband like a book. And after his actions, which were already on the verge of crossing the threshold of what you would put up with, he was in his every right mind to react this way. Walking on eggshells was the right way to go. From his friskiness on the phone, to sending an almost naked picture to you in public, to publicly groping and prodding at your highly aroused body in the discomfort of your car, to now delaying your reunion with his daughter; my my my did he dig himself a massive grave that he would not be able to dig himself out of this one. 

“No,” he answered, hesitance leaking from his tone, “she must have asked him after I left.”

“Right,” you paddled, handing the note your dad had left to your husband. A sigh of relief in the form of his chest falling from the fat breath he sucked in before dissipating from his chest. Taking a step close, your husband ignored, focusing all his efforts on the written material until he felt the texture of what was your fingertips find a place on his torso, index fingers ‘accidentally’ finding a way underneath the hem of the thin material that made up his shirt. The note was removed from your husband’s face in the form of a toss with his own hand, eyes piercing into yours the more and more the skin of his torso was being exposed to the light. Your palms then became a part of the conversation, gently pressing against your husband's groin as you could feel his length awake from a light slumber.

“Why am I sensing that you’re not mad now?”

“Me,” You gasped, feigning ignorance as you finally pulled the flimsy material over your husband’s head, “I was never mad?”

“You weren’t?”

“No Mr. Bang,” you giggled, wrapping your hands around your husband’s neck once more, “Mad that you have been teasing me for almost 24 hours straight?”

Chan didn’t answer, instead sweeping your legs off the floor and into your arms, carrying your bridal style back down the said hallway, bedroom door conveniently already open as he laid you down on your back. A hum of happiness fell from your lips at the familiar feeling of your own bed sheets encompassing your back. You were brought out of those thoughts quickly however, your husband left you little to revel in bed texture, removing his sweats immediately before lifting you by the armpits again, leaving you to stand and him sitting on the edge of your shared mattress. The invitation of your barely dressed husband with a pressing erection straining his boxers was a very enticing seat. One that you took without a second thought as his hands were straight for your throat, a gentle squeeze as your lips connected first, legs cloaking his waist once more, the both of your tongues fighting for dominance over each other. Chan’s mouth vibrated as he relaxed into the sensual nature of the kiss, hands drifting away from your upper body and right to the outside of your thighs, a gentle tingle of fingertips dancing across your heated skin as you pulled away from a brief moment, wanting to match at least half of his body in the lack of clothing. Your husband helped as he withdrew his hands from your body for a brief moment, deciding to, rather than pull your nice shirt over your head like a normal person, he pulled the seams apart, splitting the shirt into two before using one hand only to unclasp your bra this time. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t impressed by it everytime.

“I liked that shirt,” you pouted, “did you have to rip it?” “I’m sorry y/n,” he chuckled, hands snaking up your sides another time, “I just want you so badly.”

There was no time to react as your husband gripped your hips, spinning you around and pinning you into the mattress. His second attack followed impeccably, hands fumbling on your jeans before getting them undone, panties groped in unison as they hit the side wall. That was an irrelevant detail, because Chan was lying on his front, abs rubbing against your core as he brought his hands back to your tits; his most favorite thing in the world. The man could not keep his hands still, mouth slobbering all over the sensitive skin as he began his second attack of the day on your nipples. 

“Never gets old,” you giggle, a gentle moan following after at the contrast of your flimsy mounds and rock hard nubs. Chan’s hands felt like no other, and when he had them on you, it was the time when you felt like the luckiest woman in the world. Your husband’s chuckles followed closely to yours. Seeing his wife happy was one thing, but knowing that he could make you feel this good aroused him to another level. His admiration deepend, yes, but it was somewhat of an ego boost for him. Knowing that he was that good with his fingers. 

Your husband’s lips, like his hands, began to wander, a strip of wet kisses trailing down the center of your stomach, causing him to crawl back further and further until his lips were just above your core. Chan brought his fingers right back to where he had them in the car, easily able to slip in two fingers without warning, a deep groan gritting his teeth at the way your back arched for him monumentally. The sight was one that he had been craving, one that you craved yourself. It did not matter how far apart you were from your husband, his appetite for you would never change. If he wanted to be close, he wanted to be close. If he wanted to be far, well that was just simply not plausible. As much as he wanted to pleasure you, make you feel good, like the diligent role of a husband should be, it was the closeness that motivated him every time. Chan longed for these moments, especially since the introduction of your daughter restricted the ability to do so. At any possible moment, Chan would demand to do whatever he could to profess his love, and it was always done with his mouth; his tongue to be more specific. 

In this scenario, rather than speaking with tongue, it was sticking out of your husband’s lips, flattening as he dived in head first without hesitation, your hands automatically rummaging through the thick mound of curls that supported the top of his head. His tongue was heaven, spreading your pussy lips farther and farther apart and he used that ferocious organ to fiercely suck on your wanting nub. A monstrous moan escaped your lips at the contact, a gratifying humm coming from his throat at the way you tugged on his locks. Your eyes were barely open, unable to prevent yourself letting your eyelids dance back and forth from open to shut, mesmerized at the current view you had when hunching your neck to see. Chan could see the way you were desperate to view his fulfilling prophecy that was going down on his wife, making sure to lay his chest flat on your bed, ejecting his fingers from your cunt and hooking each forearm around each leg, compressing them into the mattress, giving you the perfect perspective of the combination that was his lips and tongue simultaneously pleasuring your aching core. If this was going to be the result after pining for each other for around 12 hours only, you would never think about it twice. 

“I love being married,” you whined, another humorous hum escaping your husband’s lips, “tongue feels so good.”

“Mmmh,” he mumbled, half of his face muffled in your pussy, “you taste so good.”

“What was that?”

He took away his tongue for a brief moment, looking you deep in the eye before repeating his statement.

“You taste so good.”

He didn’t want to take much time away from making you, his wife, feel good, let alone waste his breath on 3 words. His tongue snaked across your inner thigh, the organ licking a gentle strip up each leg before descending back onto your gushing pussy. The smile on your face at his works was impossible to wipe off, your moans through the pearly whites getting louder and louder at the same time with your core, the accumulation of your slick and Chan’s oral fluids contributing to the squelching sound that was bringing you closer and closer to peak arousal. His lust was simply one of trance and dedication. It genuinely could not be explained enough how much he loved seeing you like this, knowing that he was the one that was doing so. Your lips contorted, unable to keep the smile as your bite down on the skin below your bottom lip, harsh enough to leave a line of marks before you were sitting up, hands leaving his hair and dominating his face, palms spread across either side before pressing a kiss to his lips. Your nose crinkled, easily identifying the taste of you on his tongue before giving him one last look, eyes completely open as you crawled backwards on your elbows, left index fingers curling in a come hither motion. The invitation was simply too divine to resist. Your husband turned into a predator, jumping on top of you like he had just caught his prey. His moves were delicate, making sure to not crush you underneath him. His lips were itching to be on yours again, and the feelings were returned, tongue automatically parting his lips and dipping inside his wanting mouth as his hands left your figure for a brief moment, slipping the thin material down his legs and over his feet, fingertips, like magnets to his wife’s skin, straight back onto you. Your own hands were now back on your husband's body, fingernails digging into the large mound of muscles that was his upper back as his fully erect length pressed against your heat. A moan slipped out of your mouth and straight into his, causing him to pull away.

“Fuck you really missed me, didn’t you?”

His smirk was fucking priceless. So annoying, but it would just be a flat out lie if you said you were not attracted to it in the slightest. Cocky did not look good on most people, but it 100% suited your husband. Your nails buried themselves deeper into his flesh at his statement, a poor attempt at humbling him in the slightest as another moan fell from your lips as he began slightly rocking back and forth, the tip of his pre-cum soaked tip hitting your extremely sensitive nub. You went to open your mouth, a failing endeavor of speaking a sentence when the only thing coming out being sounds of pleasure.

“Don’t tease me Mr. Bang,” you mumbled in between each groan, bucking your hips to create a larger friction between your two bodies. Chan was getting impatient himself, but god, did he love to tease you. Your husband had no trouble making you orgasm over and over, he just had displeasure in making you cum so quickly. Your body was sensitive solely to him, even after all these years, it didn’t take much to get you there. Therefore, teasing you made the process so much more enjoyable. Watching you squirm was something that he really enjoyed. 

“Hmm Mrs. Bang,” he hummed, lifting his hips off of yours, one hand now wrapped around the base of him, “you’re so cute when you’re all hot and bothered.”

Your eyes formed into a squint, annoyed at how easily he was pinning you down, “stop playing games and fuck me. Preferably today before they get home.”

“Oh fuck,” Chan chuckled, prodding at your pussy hole with his length, “you’re right, let me get to business.”

It was funny when previously mentioned that Chan left to tease and see you squirm, because once his length was comforted by the strength of your tight walls, your husband was a mess. He couldn't help it. Your pussy, after being with you for so many years, molded exactly to the shape and maneuvers that Chan needed. He tried to maintain a slow pace, allowing for your cunt to stretch perfectly around him, wanting you to feel every inch of him; but it simply was too irresistible to resist. Chan wrapped his hands around your ankles, lifting your limbs in the air and stretching them as far as they could go before kneeling on his knees as he began to flat out pound your busy. His pace was not as fast no, by the velocity of the thrusts was truly toe curling. Your jaw dropped to the floor if it could, the bedhead surely denting the walls at the arms as each time his hope made contact with your contact, a large noise resembling a slap occurred. Your husband was usually not as rough, but it’s not that you’re complaining at all. It was rare that he would just throw you around like this, usually if he was frustrated or that you had been away. So really, you should have seen this coming. Maybe it was what provoked you to reply to his lustful text in such a similar manner; whatever you have been doing it was right seeing as he was making your pussy cry with arousal. 

Chan’s teeth sunk into your left calf, a string of large huffs and puffs escaping from his chest as he put all his mighty effort into each thrust, your husband breathing heavy at the combination of his force and pleasure he got from fucking you like that. His eyes ogled however, at how easily your tits bounced back and forth.

“Fuck,” you shouted, “s-so rough.”

“You like that?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, keeping your legs in the air as your pulled him by the neck, foreheads accidentally smashing foreheads together with a significant force, “you’re fucking me like you want to put another kid in me.”

“Maybe I do,” he grunted, pressing a kiss to your lips in between, “maybe I should put another kid in you.”

God the way he talks, especially like that, turns you on so much. Your hands now travel back to the familiar spot of his back, pulling his chest against yours as he picked up his pace, thrusts much smoother with rhythm as your eyes fluttered shut, head hitting the back of the pillow ad your husband relentlessly fucked your pussy. A deep breath blew from your lips, an insufficient try to maintain your composure as your husband refused to set a forgiving speed.

“Fuck your pussy,” he growled, unable to finish his sentence.

“Yeah baby?”

“Mine,” he huffed, his own eyes fluttering shut as he pinned your upper limbs next to your head, head dipping down back to your breasts, a ferociously lick on your left nipple before he continued, “Fuck I’ll fuck another fucking child into that fucking pussy if you want me to.” 

Chan became a menace when he reached his peak horniness, and during this timeline, that was right now. Anyone who met or knew Chan, as a well-respected friend, colleague, or even a stranger, knew that was one of the most polite people that you could possibly have the pleasure of meeting. Not one to swear, always use his manners and respect other people’s time and values. However, it was only you who got to see the truly feral side of him, like this, cursing his head off. It was only at this point did he forget that facade of a well-mannered gentleman. Chan was certainly not polite or gentlemen like when he fucked you, and it was a guilty pleasure of yours. It always aroused you to hear him say ‘fuck’, mumble a ‘motherfucker’ or ‘shit’ under his breath, even just in normal dialgoue. So when he said it during sex, it truly was one of the hottest fucking things your had ever seen. 

“Do it,” you mumbled, unable to use your full voice, “put a kid in me.”

“Really?”

His head snapped up immediately, lips moving back to your own, pecking you one more time, but with his eyebrows raised in surprise, “Are you being serious?”

“Yes,” you smiled, fingertips spreading across your husband’s cheeks, “you have my permission.”

“Oh fuck,” he grumbled, “you really shouldn’t have said that.”

Chan’s hands snuggled under your back, scooping you and placing you up right on him, cock still inside of you as he sat up himself, keeping you close to his torso as he scooched the end of the bed. He let out a groan as he stood up, hands trailing to your hips as began to bounce you. A new level of sound escaped your lips at the new angle he was hitting inside of your pussy. It was smart to keep your arms enclosed around his neck, head buried into his chest as he still managed to keep the same pace. You really didn’t know how much more of this you could handle; the pressure in your body was building. The pit of your stomach was making its way to your final high, and your muscles were tightening in conjunction. The room’s scent was full of sweat, but also passion. Sweet sweet passion and sweet sweet love filled the four nostrils in the room, bringing you even closer to the edge. 

“Chan?”

“Y/n, you okay baby?”

“I’m gonna cum baby,” you whined, “I'm gonna cum so hard.”

“Oh me fucking too baby,” he fritted through his jaw breaking teeth clench, “I’m about to blow so fucking hard.”

“Yeah?”

“All in this pussy,” he whined, placing you back down on the bed, “my pussy.”

“Mhm, all yours.”

Your husband kept your back arching off the edge of the bed, making sure that when let go of himself, that nothing but even a drop would drip out of your hole. His hips became erratic; you could tell that your husband would not last much longer. Not that you were far off either, but you know that the release of his seed would tip you over the edge. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, hard, “Y/n I’m so sorry I’m gonna cum first.”

“It’s ok,” you whined, “I need your seed inside of me so fucking badly.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” you clenched, eyes dark with lust as he kept his gaze on you, “put a fucking kid in me.”

“I fucking love my fucking wife so much,” he spat, jaw falling agape as his load exploded, the ropes of your husband’s orgasm roping over and over inside of you, “I fucking love you so much.”

“Fuck Chan,” you screamed, your own orgasm washing over and sending you into a haze, “it feels so good inside of me.”

Your whine was so attractive to Chan that he leant down to kiss you one more time, before withdrawing his aching cock, falling to your side in a heavy breath. He was quick to get back into action, however, falling off the bed and grabbing your ankles again, lifting them off the floor and onto the bed, ensuring that not a lick of his load would fall out. A fat giggle escaped from your lips when you watched him do so.

“Fuck you were serious about that kid hey?”

He was already gone, annoyingly leaving you by himself. He was quick to come back however, returning with a glass of water and a banana from the kitchen bench, handing over to you without a second thought. Your lips turned into a smile automatically, practically chugging the water down to quench your thirst before peeling the banana open. Your husband took his spot next to you, lying on his side as he watched you with admiration. All of a sudden you felt self-conscious, hesitating before putting your lips anywhere near the fruit.

“I’m starting to think you got this fruit for a particular reason.”

“No,” he chuckled, “just eat it.”

You looked away from him as your lips ‘accidentally’ slipped down the banana, much past where necessary to take a bite. You could see your husband's jaw clenching out of the corner of your eye as your motion.

“What,” you mumbled, mouth full of food, “you were asking for it.”

“Fuck your lucky that your daughter is going to be home soon.”

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