🪼🌺

“stay.” He holds you, gentle around your torso, kissing the soft skin that peeks under your bandages.

A healer shouldn’t be subjected to such horrors.

“A-yuan.” You sigh, patting his head.

A monster. But the kindest one he knows.

“Let me see that wound. Have you treated it yet?” unraveling the bandages, slowly, he finds that starburst pattern over your chest, and jagged scars on the opposite hip, vestiges of a war he dragged you into, but you always seem to follow him back into. 

“does it still hurt?”

you blink up at him. Right. That was ages ago.

“no. not anymore.” the scars are paler now, having been under the effect of your curse of abundance for years.

Your general—your partner now—still a general but no longer your commander, lays you on the bed, a small pot of salve in the hand not on your back. 

“let me see.” he peels away layers of silk, his shirt. his robe. nothing you wear is truly yours, everything you own is marked by his ownership, and you’re nothing more than his greatest treasure.

Like a greedy dragon, you’re covered in jewels from his collection, coveted by him alone, only his eyes are worthy of seeing you, only his breath allowed to mingle with yours. The gentlest of cuts and the softest of frills. 

You can only accept his treatment, rough or gentle, but never cruel unless you ask for it.

“how would you like it?” he rubs the salve over your chest, and he can only thank your aggressor for placing such…. marks over your skin in convenient places for Jing Yuan and your shared pleasure.

“hm? don’t worry, i can handle it.” Silly. You assume he’s talking about the salve, sighing as the cold medicine is warmed between his fingers and your skin.

the soft, rhythmic strokes make it easy to relax, melt into the bed and let him take care of you, holding you and whispering sweet nothings, cushioning your body and mind.

“pretty, so beautiful for me.” He traces the ring of bites left over your neck, cooing as you arch into the hand that wraps around it.

Oh if only you could see it.

He looks at you like a monster looks at cowering prey. Nothing more than a meal. Or perhaps a doting partner, who worships the one they hold dear?

“So beautiful. All mine.” He kisses your neck, nuzzling gently. “does it hurt? at all?” no sign of worsening yet—

You giggle, kissing his lips softly, “enough questions. I feel fine.”

It’s rare for you to be so open. He savors it, the sweetness of your smiling face and kisses you, slow and gentle.

“if you say so.”

after the salve, he pulls his robe back over your skin, letting you rest in the rare moments your mind quiets and the pain abates enough for you to breathe. 

By the bed he leaves an ornate hairpin, crimson jewels and bright gold. His. Everyone knows what his colours are. And everyone knows exactly what that emblem engraved in the metal means. You’re off limits—as if the emblems over your armor, your lounge wear, and the collar of marks on your neck isn’t enough. A jade pendant over your neck, wrapped in red. Rings and bracelets, gold and platinum, his family crest over it. And a set of robes that are clearly his, the characters of his name stamped onto the tag inside. and far too large for your body.

Is this not enough? Yet foolish strangers talk to you, honeyed voices and eyes that look where they shouldn't. Your own partner doesn't dare look unless you draw him towards it, so why can't they understand how sacred you are? 

.

.

.

Purring, you curl into the robes he left behind, his scent comforting you, the rich sandalwood and amber mixing with spiced vanilla and incense. You don’t know anything else, out of your own volition of course. It’s easy, so easy to let yourself be consumed whole, by a man who would promise care and holds you as gently as he knowshow. Falling asleep comes easier, smiling comes easier when you just let it be, and ignore all else in favor for your general. And neither of you go further than this simple back and forth, because you could beat him, match him in combat easily. If you didn't want it, you'd have already dealt with him. But the peace is nice, free from the worries of war and strife, able to peacefully work in the alchemy commission to do research, and given ample space to build a library in his home.

He let you build your home in his house. 

The door clicks open, and you stir from your pile of robes and blankets, the balmy warmth cascading.

“… general?” No reply. 

You blink away the sleepiness, but your vision doesn't clear.

you can’t see.

Panic, fear—it’s only midday, the birds are still chirping, and the almost gauzy, but more opaque fabric over your eyes lets in that midday light.

“this isn’t funny.” you pout, reaching up, with ribbon bound hands.

“seriously. it’s not funny. who’s there?.” Your voice shakes, tremors set in your bones. It smells like home, so you must be safe still. But the blindfold, the restraints, like you’re a prisoner, or too precious to be let out of a vault. What’s the difference between the greatest treasure and a high risk prisoner? only the type of cell they’re placed in.

Hands wrap around your ankle, dragging your body down the bed, and snaking up your hip.

“beautiful. you’re so delectable, have I told you that before?”

you shake. It.. it sounds like him. It’s most likely him. Not many can break into his residence (and those that can do not crave you like this), and voice modulation technology isn’t advanced enough to get his tone of voice right, especially when he wants you like this. (you’ve tried. You really tried once, saying things he’d say to get you off and trying to edit it to match his, so you’d have content when you missed him. But it never truly sounded like him.)

“mh. a few times.”

He kisses slowly up your thigh, trailing the scars and stretch marks, only to stop prematurely and pay attention to your torso, peeling back the layers of the robe he gave you. A gift, one he invested in, kept, preserved, all for his perverse fantasy to have you broken down, soft and warm, spoilt and satiated and without need or desire for anything but him. He’ll provide everything, until you forget what and how to want, because you’ll always have.

“tell me how bad you want it.” Jing Yuan finds your entrance, the firm pads of his fingers pushing and stroking, your body melting and contorting to his touch.

“p-please—“ you wheeze, his fingers cold with oil, lighting your nerves up with every stroke.

“oh? How cute…”

your tears soak the blindfold, the fabric getting darker as he plays with you. His fingers are big. Far too big, and he insists on using three.

He laughs at your pout, aching cock brushing against your thigh. “you’re lucky i have such good security. Imagine if it were someone else could see you like this.” His voice is low, warm and grating against your ear. You shake, pushing against hard muscle, “no—no i—“ you would hate it. Could only ever want him, and to have someone else see either of you like this would be akin to death.

“oh but you like it, don’t you? When it’s a surprise, when the thrill of it gets to you." 

Jing Yuan pulls back, and you hear a clicking noise, the sound of something opening, and feel his fingers peel your mouth open. A cold, sweet substance fills your mouth.

“swallow.” Once. Then he repeats the motion, tipping the crystal vial back and pushing it forward, and you swallow again. Presumably done with that drink, you rest against the pillows, the sweet liquid filling your stomach, and spreading warmth to your fingers and legs. A fuzziness works its way up to your brain, and you short circuit. Oh.

You can’t move, it takes considerable effort to shift, your heart pounding faster and faster, your breath stuttering.

“j-jing yuan—?” What did you—“ you whimper, moaning against the sheets, something slick leaking out of you.

Whatever it was, you don’t want to know. All you know is you need him really, really bad, the cravings for your lover exacerbated under the influence of what he fed you. 

“there you are. My darling.” he coos, kissing your skin and whispering into your ear, “will you behave now? so desperate yet you would fight against your own lover. We can’t have that now, can we?”

“a-yuan. a-yuan please— please don’t tease—“ you sob, thighs shaking as he pushes your legs up, and forces your legs to spread around him.

“let’s pretend? for a minute shall we? We barely know each other and—hah… i’m already having you like this, relieving your poor addled body.” Like the early days of your relationship, days filled with war you do not miss. 

you shake your head, you only want him, as he is. Right now. You don’t care for anything, anyone else. No one else would fill you with such need, and you can’t trust anyone else to bring you back.

“i—i just want a-yuan. I want you, please, nothing else—“ You can’t want anything else. You’d hate yourself for wanting more than what he generously gave you. Because your general is so good. It would be horrid of you, absolutely disgusting. But would it? He wants you, Sounds like he wants you. And would it be so bad to give in? 

“indulge me?” His lips brush yours, warmth seeping into you.

“please.” you whimper, “please, please—help—“

“poor thing.” he simpers, kissing your forehead, “do you need help with that? it hurts so bad, doesn’t it?”

You sob, nodding, your hips rutting into his.

His hand reaches down, playing with your clit, cooing, “your little clit is so hard. You wanted this so badly, don’t you?”

Blushing, you turn away, feeling the restraints tighten. Embarrassing. “just… fuck me already. please?”

the blush cascades from your ears to your face and chest, the warmth spreading and taking over. It’s so embarrassing: to have to beg for relief. You trusted him to give it to you without restraint, and now he demands this of you.

It puts you somewhere floaty, not quite here or there, simply wanting and begging for pleasure. He hums, shuffling around, and you hear the faint sound of liquid being poured out. the soft, floral scent of his favorite lubricant, and he presses in, slowly, his fingers pushing in and out, up and down until you’re panting, clenching at the sheets and crying. Why is it too much? It’s so much, his fingers feel bigger than usual after whatever he fed you.

“kiss. please?”

Jing Yuan is nothing if not kind, and he indulges, kissing you slow, his tongue licking your mouth open, and you taste your own slick and that beverage on his tongue. He ravages you open, suckling and peeling back until you’re drooling under him.

He wants you to beg, to desire for something, instead of just lying there. And if it takes what’s practically drugging and restraining you to make you voice such wants, he’ll do it. Damn him for eternity for a glimpse of you. Even when in pain you sacrifice your well being for him, how can that be fair to you? He watches your body go limp, smiles when you spasm around his hand; only for him to pull out.

“you don’t get to come yet, sweet thing.”

You sob, the heat only intensifying, your body no longer obeying your wishes, usual restraint thrown out the window. You won’t beg. You refuse.

“p-please… please yuan, need—“ You choke, crying and grinding against his leg.

“yeah? what do you want?” He pulls your hips, dragging you until you’re half seated in his lap, hard cock against your ass.

“inside. please—i—i—“ you want him. You want him so bad. “wanna have you inside…” You whimper. you feel him tense under you, and the ribbons nearly tear, extending a bit but not enough. It burns, whatever he gave you, a fiery path up your spine and between your thighs, your abdomen begging for something, the space between your thighs unbearably empty. 

“please,” tears stream down your face, “help me. it hurts so bad… It hurts—Wanna—need you—it’s too hot, i—i feel like i’m dying—“ Your voice comes out so meek, shaking and hoarse.

He smiles, so it works. What he gives you, he’d always make sure it’s safe, testing it on himself, doubling whatever he wishes to give you due to the obvious size difference; he towers over you, and you easily fit into his clothes, but they’re several sizes too large. 

This is the confession he has been yearning for, aching to hear from your quiet voice, those gentle lips quivering as you beg. 

“if it’s what my darling wants. Who am i to refuse?”

Jing Yuan smiles, bright teeth and darkened eyes. He’ll ruin you. Until you crave this, only him, give into his desire, and beg.

Flipping you over, he slides into your cunt, strong arms wrapped around your waist to keep you still.

“y-yuan—yuan please—“ You choke, sobbing as he drives into you, hitting deep into your hole and pulling out, only to go in deeper and deeper each time.

Contorting your body, you try and push, wriggle his hands off your body, whimpering and trembling as he forces himself deeper into you, until you feel that familiar burn, the twisting in your gut. "n-no more, please ge." it comes out like a shaky moan, so quiet and unlike yourself.

“thought you said you wanted me, and needed it.” He growls, rumbling voice soaking into your bones. A harsh thrust aimed up, and you see stars, the blindfold falling now, and sight returning to you.

The room itself is bright, the opened windows and curtains revealing it’s only midday.

“someone could hear this.” You whimper, sobbing as his length bullies into you. He’s not even fully in. You tighten your grip on the bedding, groaning at the sensation. You'll surely break if he goes in all the way, and then everyone can hear how he fucks you senseless. 

The guards are stationed outside, just past the courtyard beyond this room. If they heard how will you go outside ever again? you'll have to hide…

“so? let them. Some are…” he pants, “too brazen with what is mine.” At that, he drives faster into you, his hips snapping harshly against your back, his hands grabbing your hips even harsher, pulling you closer and closer until you swear you become one, his cock throbbing inside. 

Oh. Dumbly you let your mouth hang open, eyes still adjusting to the light, obscuring your lover’s face. All this, just because someone touched you shoulder the other day? Someone smiled and lingered for too long? You were only being polite, entertaining the soldiers with tea and snacks as they diligently obeyed your lover's commands.

“no—no ones—hah—ah—taking me, yuan.” Other than him.

You brace against him, wrapping a hand around his arm on your waist and heaving, trying to meet his pace. “i—i may not be fully conscious, but—a-yuan.. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t wanna have anyone who isn’t you.”

Only him, only he can make you feel so weak, let yourself become weak and yet still be content in it.

Your lover tenses, curling around you and whimpers into your neck, driving into you and coming slowly, rocking as he reaches climax. "I love you." It's whispered roughly against your neck, but no less lovingly. "so much, thank you—" 

Your hand grips the bedding, and your eyes flit shut, a soft groan leaving your throat. Warm. So—

“gege… Gege please—“ it’s too much… it leaks out,the viscous liquid unable to stay put, not when his cock pumps more of it in, his hushed chants of gratitude and love whimpered in your ear. 

His hand moves up from its spot on your waist, to rub at your stomach, feeling his come and his cock, all deeper than he anticipated but… “you’re perfect for your gege, hm? Fitting everything so perfectly, like you’re made for me…” His sharp teeth bite, a sickening sound of skin breaking, and your eyes flutter shut in pain. It hurts. It hurts—

with a half sob you shatter, shaking in his grip. You can’t see him. You need to, doesn’t he know you like seeing him when you both—You’re flipped onto your side, hands grabbing at him, “y-yuan…” he laps at his mark, purring as you come over his cock.

It’s not enough. When will it be? You feel disgusting for wanting more, he gives you enough. He gives you so much and yet you want more. The breaths between you two still, and you shake your head as he begins moving again, “i—i’m fine now.” You’re not. It’s still hot, you’re irritated and need him, but for him to sacrifice his time and dignity for you?  You’re selfish. And jing yuan is so kind.

His brows draw together, and he reaches over to grab the vial once more. Just a bit more. He needs you honest, raw, in a way you wouldn’t give to him unless he carves it out himself. Your hand grabs his arm, wet eyes and shaky grip. 

Gentle hands pry you off his arm, but the look he gives you freezes you in place. Lustful and stern, enchanting—

“perhaps you need to be taught a lesson.” the vial is tipped against your lips, and he pours the remainder into your mouth. “swallow. That’s an order from your general.”

Incapable of disobeying, you swallow. The sensations from before get worse. You’re shaking, incoherent, head filled with fuzz.

“there they are… my baby…” he kisses your forehead, eyes mirthful as you try and reach for him. Your vision focuses and muddles, cloudy and murky except for the reflection of him.

you mewl, rutting against his cock, still buried deep in you, desperate for more.

“not fair—“

“it is. You won’t ever ask for anything, is it so bad that I want to have you be honest for once?”

Slowly he lines himself up with your entrance, groaning as your hole becomes more wet and hot. Fuck.  He rocks into you, slow and steady, but you feel light, needing to come but still satisfied just like this. You come, shaking and falling back into the bed from practically nothing.

“N-no more— general—“ You sob, his hips meeting yours in gentle thrusts, but aimed up at your sweet spot. “p-please…” you cry, shaking, tears streaming down your face.

But you don’t want it to stop. You want to have him, to let him take and take because nothing would be better than to just have him devour you whole.

“You want to be filled up, don’t you? You're so sweet for me.” He whispers, thrusting up into you, “we’ll get you nice and round, okay sweetheart?”

You wail, sobbing, wanting yet denying it. “pl—please—General—“

“sh, shh.. honey, you don’t want us to get caught, you said so yourself. so be good.” He smiles, his still hard cock burying into the mess of cum and slick in your hole.

You shake your head, it’s too much—gripping the sheets to stay lucid and still do nothing, a harsh thrust rendering you limp, hands unclenching as you groan. His hand finds yours, stroking gently, and you latch onto it, that tiny warmth, a little ray of light.

“please.” A plea etched in sorrow, pleasure.

He’s too much for you, especially on nights when you haven’t arranged for it, and when he’s unburdened by propriety. Jing Yuan's affections are as bright, as grand as the power of Lan he wields, purer than what muddled feelings you can offer him.

Lips brush against your pulse point and devour, biting until you’re sure blood is drawn from how dizzy you are. Whimpers of pleasure turn to pain, and you swear you feel him get harder at the noise of your displeasure.

“h-hurts—“ You sob, shaking and curling into yourself but his hands push you back open, shoving your legs apart until all you can do is lay there and take it from him. That warm scent, those warm hands and arms you’ve grown to call home encircle you, bringing you closer to your salvation. If such a kind man can call you his, than maybe—just maybe you’re worthy of pleasure and deriving it from someone with so much dignity.

You're sat up, head lolling and thighs around his waist. "mh…?" Melting into the warmth, until he thrusts, filling you deeply.

His teeth scratch against your neck, and hands grab your hips, raising you up and down in his lap, using you like a pretty little doll, your hands limply resting on his shoulders as he brings you up and down without remorse. You cry, sobbing and shaking as he fucks you through an orgasm only for him to ignore you and keep going, until you swear you squirt around him. Mindless, wordless whimpers leave your mouth, his teeth biting into your neck, leaving more dark and bloodied bruises on you.

“m..mh…”You lift your hips, falling and repeating, until your thighs shake.

Large hands wrap around your body, and lift, dropping you, and you come again.

“thats it, fuck—“ he groans, burying into your neck as he fills you once more.

“want more—p-please—“ You beg, rolling your hips in his lap, thighs shaking beyond control.

Jing Yuan pants, his hair sticking to his face, chest sweaty from exertion. Those warm, calloused hands slide up your waist, squeezing appreciatively before one cups your face, your jaw nestled in his hand.

You could snap it so easily. But your instincts to maim have been dulled by this comfort, his hands on your body… his thumb teases the seam of your lips, pushing past the warm skin until it presses down on your tongue.

Spit pools in your mouth, and you taste his sweat, groaning as he applies more pressure, shutting your eyes when he takes your tongue between his fingers, pulling and pinching.

"Naughty."

Its your fault that i'm like this. But you can't bring yourself to say it, not when he stares at you like this, narrowed eyes and a dark flush on his face, like he'll eat you whole. To be craved like this brings some satisfaction to you, only you can get him to be this way.

"p-please—" it comes out gnarled and wet, his fingers preventing you from enunciating it fully.

"insatiable thing. You want more?" 

You nod, the palm of his hand hitting against your chin, slick with your drool. The ribbons fall off your hands, and he removes the remnants of the blindfold from your neck. 

"Whatever you want, I'll grant it. Okay sweetheart?" He pulls out, a mess of slick and cum, and lays you flush against the bed.

Just take it and do what he wants, you've told yourself that so many times, only wanting to give. But tonight he has urged you to take, because he's willing to give so much more than he can take from you.

"Yeah? how much?" You grab a tuft of his hair and pull him closer, murmuring between heavy pants. His expression contorts, a large grin, like you fell into his trap.

"How much will you give?" You caress his cheek, sighing as his tongue finds your clit, licking and kissing the bundle of nerves. 

"Whatever my darling wants from me." It will be yours, always. If you ordered him to leave he'll be gone, tell him to cut his hair, he'd do it. Until you're happy. "Shall i show off what services i provide?"

There is never any competition between either of you, both too devoted to usurp the other. But he thinks he'd let you win, devour him with that needy expression of yours, take everything you give, worship you until you're overflowing with his essence, his care, his come—he's hard already, just thinking of it, how good you'd look—

"pay attention. Or I could go, leave you…" leave him needy, wanting, and you'd be no better, hot and craving, aching for his touch. 

"So cruel, but darling don't forget, it'd be your loss." He bites out, and uses his unoccupied hand to stroke up your thigh, pushing past your puffy entrance. 

You groan, twitching against his hand. "you're a scoundrel." His fingers start a slow drag, until he crooks the digit, scooping out the come and slick that have accumulated. 

Maybe you feel a little shame. Just a little as you groan, melting into the bed. It's so good. Just his touch, his attention is satisfying, to be put on the altar that is your shared bed and to take turns being the offering and the god it is left for. His lips meet your labia, soothing the ache he inflicted, an apology, a promise for more, and you always get what you want from him, don't you? Spoilt on his strales, his affections, all because your silly promises to him, ones you've carried out of course but still so silly.

"s-so good—you're perfect—" you mumble, dragging his head closer by his bangs.

Jing Yuan groans against your cunt, lapping up your sweat and slick and digging his tongue into you as deep as it could humanly go. Your thighs clench around his head, twitching as he digs deeper, his nose bumping against your clit with every thrust of his tongue.

"p-please—please— i'm so close, i'm close—"

The wet, depraved sounds of a man feasting only grow louder, your whimpers growing silent from the sheer pleasure he gives. Has he practiced this? Done this to so many before you and has perfected this skill? Its enough to make you jealous, not that you'd say that to him. 

Two fingers reach up, prodding and pinching at your clit, and you come on his tongue.

No fine dining can compare, nor do they dare compare to this experience, to having you wholly and tasting what only he can make you produce. He doesn't dare waste it, licking all of it, until you're clean and your breaths have calmed down. Only then does he look up, your flushed face, dazed eyes and the softening of your countenance, that's all that matters to him. 

"satisfactory? or would you like more?" Jing Yuan sits up now, moving to the side of the bed to grab some towels and a gourd filled with chilled water for you to drink, and to clean your bodies with. 

You're still, letting him clean you, shivering and angling your hips, but you don't dare announce your wishes, letting him indulge in polishing what is his, taking care of the bruises and bites littering your skin. 

"it doesn't feel like enough." you whimper, "i feel so strange…" you crawl up into his lap, perching there and wrapping your arms around his neck, your legs angled to the side, knees pressing into his hip as you glance up at him. 

Jing Yuan takes a few sips, before pressing his forehead against your shoulder. You'll be the death of him. "What would you like?" His money, his valuables, praise, sex, or his heart, or maybe his soul bound to you for eternity. Regardless of when or what you ask for, he knows he'll grant it, in a heartbeat. 

Shyly, you straddle him, your face turning even warmer, enough that a little colour around your cheeks highlights your flustered state. "Like this. Can I have you like this?" 

Having you ask him like this, so unassuming and sure of yourself made the aphrodisiac worth it. 

Being a son of a wealthy family, many arts were introduced to him in his youth, in order to maintain a good family image. Thus he approaches everything with a steady hand, a clear conscience even the heavens would approve of. But let this be his greatest sin—his desire for you enough to convince the heavens that his lust is sacred, something only the two of you are privy to, an indulgence he gives to the most important being in his life. Just a little more time with you is all he can ask for, even if he knows you'd chase. Till death do you part? those vows you'll never exchange with him, hating the idea of marriage, but hating the idea of parting just as much. 

"of course." 

Just as before, those gentle hands find your hips, guiding you over his cock, and starting a steady rhythm of your body against his, until you're both on the precipice of pleasure and pain, your lips finding his neck, latching on and marking the space that is rightfully yours. 

He hisses, and you pause mid thrust, kissing him gently on the lips, "I'm not being too rough, am I?" 

Jing Yuan shakes his head, and leans against the head board, biting back whimpers when you clench down, shaking and clutching at his shoulders. "s-sensitive, I—I—" he groans, the two of you finding release in tandem. 

But you start again, rocking against him. 

“e-enough— baby wait—“ he groans, his body worn from trying to keep up with you. Has he really gotten so old that only a few rounds get to him? 

You pause, your hands lifting his face. Exhaustion weighs heavy in those warm eyes, his bangs sweaty and pushed back, revealing that usually hidden right eye. you give him a soft, chaste kiss under both eyes, a reward for his efforts. "mh. we'll stop." Gingerly you lift your thighs, come and slick pouring out, and you groan, head falling onto his shoulder. 

The man under you gasps, hands finding purchase on your hips again, a soft smile on his face, "silly darling, we're not done yet, not after that." You're still quivering under his fingers, clenching around nothing.

He guides you, pulling you taut against him, lifting you so you fall, until you find it in yourself to take control again. 

How many rounds must it have been? Five? Six? he bounces between awareness and dreamless slumber, letting you use him. After all, it's his fault you're in this little predicament and this is the least he could do for you.

You collapse, falling onto his chest. “mh… more… wanna have more…”

“I have toys.” He rubs your back, kissing your forehead in a rare moment of clarity.

Sleepily, you shake your head against his chest “no… wanna have you. only you… doesn’t feel good unless it’s you…”

You’re still buzzing with need, desperate for his touch. But exhaustion weighs heavily on you, sleep  heavy on the lids of your eyes. 

“mh..”

“princess, no more. We can go again tomorrow, but you need rest. And water…” The artificial sun is about to rise… how long can you last? 

He tries to pull back, but you tighten around him, whimpering. “n-no—gotta make sure …” You whine, voice trailing off.

“Make sure what, dear?" He kisses your forehead.

"don't wanna not feel you." You mumble, "wanna be marked."

Nothing can change obsession. Jing Yuan will only be more obsessed, would ruin you for anyone else to have. But he’s happy like this too—you’re malleable, a brat, but never acting out of line, and you barely fight when he cages you in this paradise. And not once have you fought him on it, letting him leash you (even if many argue the leash you have on him is much firmer. Half of this arrangement is because of you, you and your iron will to be independent.)

"I want it. wanna—“ You sob, arching your back, his thick cock thrusting all the way up into you. “p-please—“ All things are set to fade, marks, life, love… But he has to try, to give in to your little fantasy, your happiness paramount .

“Princess, look at your gege.”hands shaking with sweat and overstimulation—he cradles your face, wiping your skin.

“Nap? Then we can do whatever you want. How’s that?”

Vigorously you shake your head, clenching your jaw as you bend over him, wrapping your arms around him and collapsing.

"l-let me—" you squeeze your eyes shut, dots swimming in your vision with stars bursting in that void. Aches in your back and hips that you haven't felt in eons resurface, and you're limp against him. 

Like all the times before, he sighs and wraps you in a robe, lifting you slowly and seating you in a soft couch in the corner of the room, pressing a gourd to your fingers and making you drink. He throws the laundry in the washing machine, then adds bleach to hopefully get rid of the stains. 

You've yet to fuss or beg for attention, so he can only hope the rounds upon rounds of love making were enough to sate you, and it gives him time to make the bed, putting your favorite covers on and scrounging around for a clean blanket. a quiet hum reverberates around your side of the room, and its the closest to a word of approval he will get from you in this state. 

"Let's get you into the bath, shall we?" Once more, he picks you up, setting you on the bathtub's edge as he fills it with warm water and a floral soap Yaoguang had brought to him earlier today, saying something about "immense weal, consider yourself a lucky man, Jing Yuan." 

Perhaps the diviner had saw this coming, your face bathed in the warm light, his calloused hands gentle as they bring you into the water, lathering you in soap and washing away the grime and evidence of a fun night together. 

"next time I won't tie them too tight." He rubs at your wrists, still red, but no bleeding or signs of bruising. You're wordless against him, your back pressed against his chest…"qin ai de—" he turns you around, and laughs, kissing your forehead. 

Half asleep, and so restless before. 

"hurry up and wash me," you groan, "or we'll turn into prunes." 

"yes, dear." 

And maybe tomorrow, he'll see the same carefree smile, unburdened by your past. If not, he can wait.