#Garden Lounge Set With Cushions

[indecorcollection]

Best Outdoor Lounge Furniture in USA

Looking to upgrade your outdoor living space for the summer? One great option is to invest in high-quality, comfortable outdoor lounge furniture USA from Indecor Collection. This online retailer has a wide selection of outdoor sofas, sectionals, chairs, and more to choose from.

When shopping on their site, you'll find durable, weather-resistant outdoor furniture made from materials like wicker, aluminum, and all-weather wicker. Brands like Home Harmony Essentials offer chic, contemporary styles built to last outside.

Some things to consider when buying outdoor lounge furniture:

Size - Make sure to measure your patio or deck to get the right proportions. Sectionals can be configured in different shapes.

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Cushions - Look for cushions with UV-resistant fabric and water-resistant fill. Removable cushion covers make cleaning easy.

Extras - Ottomans, side tables, swivel chairs, and chaises can maximize comfort and style.

I recommend Home Harmony Essentials for their clean-lined aesthetic and durable construction. Their sofas and sectionals come in neutral hues that will coordinate across any outdoor space.

To furnish your outdoor oasis in style, browse the selection at Indecor Collection this season. Their outdoor lounge furniture is designed to create a cozy, welcoming area perfect for relaxing with family and friends all summer long.

[mosaickiwi]

MC/Angel relaxing with Fox Ren giving him all the smooches and cuddles~!!! Or daily life with Redacted with MC/Angel as a house spouse teehee~!!!

Kinda sorta combined them oopsies teehee <3 <3 da best fluffy boi

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~Literal Domestic Fluff~

You’d been busy since Ren left to patrol the territory early that morning. With him out of the way, cleaning up was admittedly easier. The kitchen was spotless, paw prints in the hallways scrubbed away, and the laundry almost finished. A scant few linens fresh from the dryer lay in the basket at your feet, one being carefully folded as you lounged in your favorite window seat to bask in the setting sun.

You paused to bring the warm fabric up to your face. The pleasant floral scent of the detergent was nice, but nothing compared to the fresh mountain air you’d finally gotten used to over the months. You opened the window all the way to let in a breeze.

Something immediately felt different, almost relaxing about the faintly cool air flowing past. It took a moment to realize the real source of the calm that washed over you.

A familiar presence was running through the sparse trees that lined the farthest edge of the garden. Before you could even call their name, he was making leaps and bounds on pink-toed paws to cross the short expanse of greenery between you. In a matter of seconds the ethereal fox morphed into a shape closer to human as they approached, though the tails and ears stayed in place. He came to a skittering halt outside the window.

“Angel!” Ren excitedly spoke as he reached up to you, a sparkle to his pale blue eyes. 

You dropped the blanket and leaned over the window sill to take hold of his outstretched hand, placing a quick kiss to his forehead for good measure. For once, you were the one towering over him—if only by a few centimeters. “Hi, Ren,” you said with a smile.

His excitement only seemed to intensify at your affections. Nine fluffy tails began to wag in delight while you carded your other hand through his hair. “I missed you.”

“Really? I couldn't tell,” you teased, waving away a couple stray leaves and flower petals from his pointed ears. “I missed you, too.”

Your bonded partner immediately flushed pink at your response, then something caught his attention that made his nose wrinkle. “Are you okay? Was it too cold while I was gone?” 

You weren't sure what he meant until you followed his gaze to the disheveled blanket next to you on the cushioned seat. You shook your head to calm him down. “Just doing laundry.”

He was hesitant to accept your answer, but the second kiss you pressed to his lips seemed to distract him well enough. Ren stood up straighter, determined to make it last as long as possible. Shivers ran up your spine when his fingers carefully settled along the base of your neck to keep you steady. 

Though you weren't quite finished, you were forced to pull away and breathe. “Hmm, maybe I am a little cold. We should—hey!” you suddenly laughed, gently pushing them back. He was practically crawling through the window to reach you at the mere suggestion of cuddling. “Let me finish up, okay? Just a few minutes. And use the front door.”

His ears fell flat in embarrassment as he nodded and settled down. No longer crowding the window, but still on his toes to better see what you were doing.

You took your time folding the blanket and what was left in the basket. It was hard to ignore the focused gaze of the man, nor the way he noticeably perked up once you finished folding something, only to pout at the next piece of fabric you grabbed. With a little less willpower you would've abandoned the laundry far sooner to give them all of your focus.

Eventually, you had a neat and tidy pile of sheets to put away. A quick peek from the corner of your eye in their direction was enough to alert him. He bolted from the window in an instant, just for you to hear him loudly sprinting through the villa’s many hallways seconds later. There was barely any time to stand up before you were scooped up in their arms.

He nuzzled into your neck with an almost desperate sigh as he mumbled, “I’m sorry I was away for so long, beloved.” You could faintly feel his teeth nipping at the skin above your collarbone. “Y’smell different.”

“Huh? Oh.” You made a mental note to find a scentless laundry detergent on your next outing into town. Maybe it would bother him less.

The warmth of his silky tails enveloped you, barely tickling you when they brushed back and forth over your form. As he carried you from the room, tucked safely close to their chest, you happily gave them the attention they’d been waiting for.

[cassieuncaged]

Batstarion (Astarion x Reader)

Summary: You share some time with a certain Ascended Vampire in bat form.

TW: none :)

WC: 1 K

A/N: just a fluffy oneshot inspired by Pani-artz Batstarion series, that’s all :)

Long, leathery wings stretch across the tufted cushion, a flurry of squeaks escaping before you whisper an evocation.

“Amicus animalis,” your fingers trace his tiny body, getting lost in the snowy coat that covers him. “You may speak now, love.”

“Lord,” he corrects in that buttery voice you delight in so much, though it’s difficult to take anything serious when Astarion lounges about in bat form. White pinpricks appear from behind an upturned snout, his menace evaporated as beady eyes muster any intimidation. “I am your lord and you will regard me as such.”

“Oh?” You bring a finger up to one fang, releasing a droplet that’s offered to the bat. A tiny pink tongue laps at it lazily. “It’s I who sits upon your throne; shan’t I be your lord?”

“Do not mock me, pet,” he seethes, though that pink noses nuzzles against your finger before sharply latching. He sips though it feels more like a tickle when he’s in this form, “I’m ghastly.”

“You’re adorable.” You coo, scratching beneath a fuzzy chin as he likes. When you stop, you noticed his batty expression has softened, tiny features relaxed. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Immensely,” he sighs, wings twitching against either of your thighs, cartilaginous sinews loosening as his claws dig into your breeches. “Turn me."

“Isn’t my lovely face enough?” You jest though some truth is hidden in that; after all, it’s been almost a year since you’ve last seen your own reflection. Now you chat with the bat form of your lover and closest confidant. Were you finally losing what was left of your mind?

“Don’t be naïve,” he tsks, sinking into the tufted velvet. “I’d like to look upon the audience.”

“The hall is empty, my love,” your eyes fall on the empty benches as wings threaten to flap. “Patience, I’ve got you.”

One hand slid beneath his warm belly, enjoying the heat you no longer wrought. Then he was carefully scooped and turned so that beady little gaze to see the ornate room that often clamored for the attention of the lord regally displayed upon the dais. Then a content chirp echoed through the vaulted ceilings as his body spasmed.

“Imagine if all the citizens of Baldur’s Gate saw you now, my lov…, my lord.” One finger began stroking from between tiny coned ears to the root of a wiry tail. His fur was so luscious and soft, not unlike the curls so carefully manicured atop his head, “Commanding with such ferocity propped upon the lap of your consort.”

“I suppose it would be quite the sight,” he chuckled, making her shiver like it always did. “Baldur’s Mouth would have quite the story. ‘Decrees heralded by rodent’; I think it’s silly enough to make the front page.”

“Think yourself popular, do you?” you teased, enjoying the moments he was seemingly relaxed and docile; they were so far few and between these days.

“Darling, I know I am.” He wriggled playfully against the cushion before pinkish hued wings began to flap. It was always mesmerizing to watch him float, expecting him to morph back into himself with a cloud of smoke. But he remained as he was, eyeing you expectantly. “The sun has long set; let’s peruse the palace gardens.”

The velveteen cushion was tucked upon the seat of the gilded throne as he began to glide to the far end of the hall, leaving you practically sprinting to catch up. Boots clacked against the marble floor, robes swishing around sure legs as you raced down the aisle. He paused, wings flapping in place as your place was taken beside him.

“Do keep up, dear,” he chided, little teeth clicking as he gracefully dove through the opened oak doors and down the decadently decorated hallway. “We haven’t all night. Oh, wait; we do don’t we?”

Your chuckle mingled with his, allowing the flamboyant bat dart to through the ornate glass doors that servants obediently wrenched open. It was a treat to watch him dive through the hedged archways, dipping down to bury his nose in a budding rose that practically glowed beneath the full moon.

“Pick one,” he encouraged, “Put it behind your ear.”

Doing as asked, two red pinpricks watched diligently as the petals hung over the shell of your ear. Then, it finally happened, fluffy white bat dissipating into a black mist before Astarion stretched out in front you, gently tipping your chin upwards.

“Beautiful.” He cooed before pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Just beautiful.”

“Would ‘Batstarion’ agree?” you giggled, enjoying the quiet moments before the hammer inevitably dropped. He was so rarely this tender and you missed it terribly. Gently, he pulled your hand into his before drifting to the edge of the gardens.

“He loves flowers, that’s true.” He grins, wiping residual pollen from his own nose, “Though I’m unable to hold you with those bloody wings. Not to mention the language barrier.”

“I love the chirps,” you argued, enjoying the arm that instinctually wrapped around your waist, possessively. “It’s very cute.”

“I’m meant to be menacing,” he growls and you’re reminded of his other form, back elongating, jaw distending. You shivered at the thought. So you allow your fingers to dance across a strong cheekbone as his gaze fell upon the lights twinkling lights in the Lower City below. “How will I ever rule The Sword Coast if I’m not?”

“In due time, my love.” You reassured him, enjoying the caress of his cold breath against your ear. “This will all be ours. They’ll pledge fealty and you can rest upon as many velvet pillows as you please. I’ll even rub your little furry belly.”

“Will you?” then, when you expected his teeth to plunge into your neck but nuzzled against you again. A welcome change. “That’d be strangely comforting.”

[yourmomsawh0r3]

The Great Bridgerton Prank War

benedict bridgerton x female wife reader

The Bridgerton estate was always full of life, laughter, and the occasional bit of mischief. Benedict Bridgerton and his wife, Y/N, were no strangers to the lively antics that often filled their home. In fact, Y/N had become something of a mastermind in the art of pranking, much to the delight of Gregory and Hyacinth, who were her eager accomplices.

It all started one sunny afternoon when Y/N, Gregory, and Hyacinth were lounging in the garden. Gregory, always up for a bit of fun, was regaling them with tales of past pranks he had pulled on his siblings.

“You know,” Y/N said thoughtfully, “I think it’s time we up the ante. What do you say we team up and pull off the greatest prank the Bridgerton family has ever seen?”

Hyacinth’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Oh, yes! What do you have in mind?”

Y/N leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I have a few ideas…”

The first target was Colin, who was known for his love of food. Y/N, Gregory, and Hyacinth spent the evening preparing a batch of Y/N’s famous scones, but with a twist. They added an extra ingredient to a few of them: a generous amount of hot pepper.

The next morning, as the family gathered for breakfast, Colin was the first to reach for the scones. Y/N and her co-conspirators watched with barely concealed glee as he took a large bite. His eyes widened, and he reached for his glass of water, chugging it down as quickly as he could.

“What on earth is in these scones?” Colin spluttered, his face turning red.

Y/N feigned innocence. “Is something wrong, Colin? They’re just my usual recipe.”

Gregory and Hyacinth couldn’t hold back their laughter any longer. Colin glared at them, realizing he had been had. “Very funny,” he said, his lips still burning. “Just wait until it’s your turn.”

Next up was Eloise. Knowing her sister-in-law’s love for her morning routine, Y/N concocted a plan involving a bit of artistic trickery. Late at night, with Gregory and Hyacinth’s help, she replaced Eloise’s vanity mirror with a painted replica that distorted her reflection.

The following morning, Eloise sat down to brush her hair and nearly jumped out of her seat when she saw her reflection. Her face appeared comically stretched and squished.

“What in the world?” Eloise exclaimed, leaning closer to the mirror. “I look like a funhouse version of myself!”

Y/N, Gregory, and Hyacinth, who had been hiding nearby, burst into laughter. “Got you!” Gregory shouted.

Eloise, recovering from her shock, couldn’t help but laugh. “All right, you win this round. But I’ll be ready for you next time.”

Anthony, the eldest Bridgerton, prided himself on his orderliness and discipline. Naturally, he was the perfect target for their next prank. With Benedict’s unwitting help, Y/N, Gregory, and Hyacinth carefully rearranged Anthony’s meticulously organized study.

Books were placed out of order, papers were shuffled, and his favorite pen was hidden. When Anthony entered his study, he stopped in his tracks, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene.

“What happened here?” he demanded, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Y/N strolled in, a picture of innocence. “Is something wrong, Anthony? It looks fine to me.”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the room. “This is not how I left it.”

Gregory and Hyacinth peeked around the doorframe, trying to stifle their giggles. Anthony’s expression softened as he realized he had fallen victim to their mischief.

“You three are incorrigible,” he said, shaking his head with a wry smile. “Just remember, I know how to get even.”

For the grand finale, Y/N decided to involve Benedict. They planned to prank Daphne and Simon, who were visiting for the weekend. With Gregory and Hyacinth’s help, they set up a series of harmless but hilarious traps around the guest room.

When Daphne and Simon arrived, they were greeted with a cascade of balloons falling from the closet, a whoopee cushion strategically placed on the armchair, and a bucket of confetti rigged to the door.

Daphne’s laughter rang through the house as she and Simon navigated the series of pranks. “I should have known you lot were up to something,” she said, still giggling.

Simon, ever the good sport, joined in the laughter. “I must say, you’ve outdone yourselves this time.”

Y/N, Gregory, Hyacinth, and Benedict gathered in the hallway, their faces beaming with pride and mischief. “Welcome to the Bridgerton Prank War,” Y/N declared. “May the best prankster win.”

The Bridgerton siblings took the pranks in stride, each vowing to get their revenge in due time. The house was filled with laughter and playful plotting, as everyone tried to outdo one another.

One evening, as Y/N and Benedict sat by the fire, Benedict pulled her close. “You know, my love, you’ve brought so much joy and fun into this family. I can’t imagine life without your laughter.”

Y/N smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “I couldn’t have done it without Gregory and Hyacinth. They’re wonderful partners in crime.”

Benedict chuckled. “Indeed they are. But be careful they might turn on you next.”

Y/N laughed, her heart full. “Let them try. I’m always ready.”

And so, the Bridgerton household remained a place of love, laughter, and endless fun, each day bringing new adventures and cherished memories. The pranks became a beloved tradition, a testament to the bond that held the family together, and a reminder that in the Bridgerton home, there was always room for a little bit of mischief and a lot of love.

[writingduhh]

omg imagine isaac throwing u over his shoulder and carrying u around when u dont feel like moving 😆😆😆

Yesss love it! Hope you enjoy!

IsaacWhy || Lazy Lifts

It was one of those lazy Sundays in the small, sunlit apartment where you and Isaac shared many laughs and cozy afternoons. The curtains fluttered gently as a breeze swept through, carrying the scent of blooming flowers from the small garden below their window.

As you lounged on the couch, scrolling endlessly through your phone, Isaac walked into the room, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked, sitting down beside you. You just shrugged, not really in the mood to articulate the tiredness that seemed to cling to your body

He spoke up yet again

"Hey, lazy bones," Isaac teased, poking your side gently. "How about we go get some ice cream? My treat."

You only responded with a muffled groan, burrowing deeper into the cushions. "Too tired to move," you murmured, barely audible.

"Oh, is that so?" Isaac chuckled, "Well, I guess I'll just have to carry you there, won’t I?"

Before you could protest, Isaac scooped them up in one swift motion, slinging them over his shoulder like they were as light as a feather. You yelped in surprise, then started laughing, the sound bright and clear. "Isaac! Put me down!"

"Today, you're on Isaac Express," he declared proudly, starting to make his way out the front door with you slung over his shoulder. “Our first stop, the ice cream parlor!”

Without another word, Isaac gently set you in the passenger seat, then slid behind the wheel himself, driving off towards your favorite ice cream shop.

Upon arrival, Isaac offered you a piggyback ride from the car to the shop, aware of your fatigue. Once inside, he gently set you down, and together you mulled over the array of flavors. You opted for a scoop of your favorite, while Isaac selected his go-to choice, mint chocolate chip.

With ice cream in hand, you strolled back to the car, Isaac's arm warmly wrapped around your shoulders. You leaned your head against him.

"Thanks for the lift, Isaac."

"Anytime," he replied, kissing the top of your head. "Anytime."

[malleusthehammer]

Helloooo (●’◡’●)ﾉ could I please request Buddha, Adam, Sasaki and Leonidas with a preteen reader (12 years old) that likes to prank the gods all the time? Like putting a whoopee cushion under Shivas or Thor seats, drawing on anyone's face if they even think about taking a nap when reader is around, only small things that can't really hurt people, and no one can stop them because reader can just teleport away or make a clone of themselves, they prank everyone but them (the characters I requested) and when they're asked why reader just says “their likeable enough” I feel like this would be so chaotic and in a way wholesome 😭

YES OM GI I LOVE THIS IUDE S< ITS SO CUTRE!!! Also i am SO SO SO sorry for the wait!! Also its platonic considering that the reader is 12 years old so-

Pranking with Buddha, Adam, Sasaki, and Leonidas! Warnings: Yelling? Type: Headcanons and drabble!

🍬 Buddha

Dude he LOVES pranking with you!!

I mean, how could he not?

He does blow your cover a LOT because of his loud laugh

He usually takes the heat from the other gods that are being pranked because hes just like that

He thinks its so cool that you can just make a clone of yourself!

You were sneaky, sneaky enough to get past all of Shivas wives that is. When you passed by them on occasion, they treated you like a child of their own. Showering you in gifts and hugs! But- that was besides the point, yes? Buddha had finally convinced you to do that shaving cream prank on the god of destruction. So, you both snuck into the gods room, silent as a mouse. Buddha promised you a handful of candy from his stash if you pulled this off. you knew this was going to be easy-peasy! Maybe so easy and flawless youd get two handfuls of candy!

You silently -or rather, as best you could- sprayed the shaving cream in Shivas hands. His sleeping positions were erratic, so you made sure to cover all four hands in the cream before pulling out the feather you had. Your devious acts had led up to Munin loosing one of his tail feathers, you kept it. Almost like a trophy. You handed the feather to Buddha, who looked like he was about to explode with laughter any moment. Somehow, he kept his cool, tickling Shivas nose with the feather.

The 4-armed god stirred, to then slam a handful of shaving cream in his face. He was quick to wake up, trying to look around, omly to get more shaving cream everywhere.

"GODDAMNIT [Y/N]!!"

His voice rumbled in the room, his arm lunging towards you. You knew this would happen, so you were quick to make a clone to stand. Once Shivas palm hit the clone, it puffed into dust. This caused the God to get even madder. But what made it all worse was Buddha dying of laughter in the corner.

🍎 Adam

At first hes like "How do you find this hilarious?!?"

But then, you pranked Zeus..

and this opened his eyes for REAL

You had tried your best to come up with a prank for the old god Zeus, but nothing would stir in your mind. Eventually, you fell back to your roots of scaring. You hid behind the door of the Gods lounge, knowing the old man would be coming in soon. Once you had heard his distinguishing laugh, your plan was set into motion. You waited till just the right moment to pop out from behind the door. Unfortunately, you weren't far enough away from the door.

Zeus reacted by swinging his arms out in defense, causing the door to slam right back into you. The knob of the door went straight into your stomach, causing you to hit your head hard against the marble wall. You quickly fell to your knees in pain, hearing the old man guffaw and laugh about how you shouldn't scare him like that. You had learned your lesson, not to return to your roots.

You shamefully walked down the grand halls of Valhalla, coming to the garden. Adam saw you, hurrying over to see what was wrong. He was quick to help you, laying you down in the grass as he held an icepack to your head. You both laughed about what happened til Adam broke the silence.

"Little one- why dont you pull pranks like that on me? You do it on all the others.. Are you plotting a big prank on me?"

You giggled and shook your head, explaining how he was like a dad to you. And of course, who would prank their dad?

⚔️Sasaki Kojiro

He's never there to watch you prank but he loves hearing you tell the stories afterwards

You had managed to prank Aphrodite with a couple fake spiders, causing her to scream and sling her food off the table. Her hench men tried to calm her down by showing her that they were face spiders. But that only made it worse. She was running from them, hiding in her own room. You had watched this entirely, trying so hard not to laugh your ass off. After everyone calmed down, you were quick to go find Sasaki.

He was were he usually was, against the fountain in Valhalla's garden. You were quick to run up to him, sitting right down next to him. You both laughed and talked as you blabbered on about your prank. He started busting out laughing when you even reenacted how Aphrodite reacted! After you both calmed down from your laughing fits, you sat back down next to him on the edge of the fountain. Sasaki knew how much you loved pulling pranks on the others in Valhalla. Sometimes even more that Loki himself! Sasaki couldn't help but ask why you didn't pull pranks on him.

"Ahaha- ah.. Now, this makes me wanna ask ya.. Why don't cha pull pranks on me?''

You sat there for a moment. Why didn't you? Well of course you wouldn't pull a prank on someone you care about so dearly! Sasaki was shocked by your answer at first, but was so happy you cared so deary about him!

🛡️ Leonidas

He usually takes the downfall for your pranks because :3

helps you get the supplies and everything!!

lets you hide behind him bc he lowkey scary

Unlike the others, he is always backing you up on the pranks. He's always encouraging you. He's gonna have you writing prank ideas down on a notepad he comes up with ideas so quick. Today, you and him were walking down the halls of Valhalla. He held his cigar between his two fingers as he talked on and on about some pranks he pulled in his younger years. You followed behind closely, furiously writing the ideas down on your notepad. Leonidas chuckled as he saw you writing stuff down as you both walked. He huffed on his cigar for a moment before a thought popped up in his mind.

"Hey kid, why don't cha pull pranks on this old man?"

He smiled and pointed to himself with his thumb. He raised a brow at you for a moment, waiting for your reply.

You sat there, dumbfounded. You really hadn't thought about it.

"I guess- cuz your like the prank master! Like my mentor!"

Leonidas' eyes widened for a second as he thought about what you said. His smile grew as he wrapped his large arm around you. He laughed as he ruffled your hand with his large hand.

"Ahaha! I knew you looked up to me, but not that much! Thank ya, kid!"

YOOOOO HGHJUYGBHJ DIES honestly this was my first time writing for Leonidas and i LOVE HIM SM hes so silly!! also i kinda got carried away with Buddhas so i hope you forgive me for that. BUt i truly hope you enjoyed it!! alsi my asks are open!!

[earthry]

Papas and Readers Coexisting (Headcanons)

I love having the ability to just quietly exist in each other’s company, not necessarily talking and not feeling like you have to. Just being together is enough.

sfw, no warnings, fluff and comfort, coexisting quietly with each other

Primo

Quiet time in the garden; sometimes you help him with the weeding or pruning, other times you sit in the shade of a nearby tree with a sketchbook. Though you sketch a lot of the wildlife and plants around you, you always find at least one or two candid sketches of Primo tucked in the corner of every page.

Every so often you’ll feel light pressure and look up to see that Primo has balanced a wildflower of some sort on your knee. Sometimes you catch him before he fully withdraws his hand and he smiles sheepishly at you. Occasionally he’ll tuck the flower behind your ear and press a kiss to the back of your hand.

“It simply reminded me of your smile, my petal. You wear it so beautifully, si?”

Secondo

There’s a couch in his office with soft cushions and a plush throw blanket over the side. There wasn’t one before, but after a few weeks of you sitting in one of the uncomfortable chairs he had one installed. You usually lounge on the couch with a book as Secondo silently works on paperwork or a personal project.

Occasionally you’ll fall asleep and Secondo will look up when there’s a lack of page turning and realize you’ve passed out. He’ll gently take the open book that’s about to fall out of your hand and set it on the side table before covering you with the throw blanket. Before he goes back to his work he always gives your forehead a gentle kiss.

“It’s been a long day, hasn’t it? Sleep well, tesoro. I’ll finish in a couple of hours and join you.”

Terzo

Whether it be breakfast, lunch, or dinner, Terzo prides himself on being an excellent chef. Since retirement he often home-makes all your meals you have together. Lazy mornings spent watching him putter around the kitchen with the radio on, sometimes humming along or doing a little shimmy to the music. You watch from your spot at the kitchen table with a smile, usually with your laptop out catching up on emails and other work.

In the evenings, you sometimes help Terzo with dinner preparations, glancing at the recipe book as you orbit around each other in perfect tandem. Other times you sit at the table not unlike the mornings, working on your laptop again or watching videos on your phone with the sound turned low. Terzo doesn’t mind the extra noise and every so often will waltz over with a spoon for you to taste test for him.

“Too sweet, dolcezza? Give me your thoughts. Oh! Not sweet enough? Mm, if you give me some of your sugar we can change th— ow! Don’t smack me I was complimenting you.”

Copia

You love nothing more than napping with your head in Copia’s lap while he plays his video games, making little noises as he succeeds or fails, the soft sounds of the game volume turned low lulling you to sleep. Sometimes you snuggle together and watch him, other times you’ll be scrolling on your phone quietly with your feet in his lap.

Copia will take his rats out to free roam his room sometimes while the two of you hang out quietly. Some days he works on his music, other days he just likes to play and watch his rats. You often bring your own things to work on but always find yourself looking up every once in a while to see Copia cooing softly to one of his babies.

“Aw look at you, you’re getting quite chubby aren’t you? My little chubby baby, you’re so cute— amore mio, come look! He’s cleaning his face what a polite little guy!”

[hergrandplan]

💜 wilmon;

Wille has a sunroom that overlooks the backyard, and that's where they eat, sitting on the same side of the table as they watch the sun set.

sorry it took so long!! I hope you enjoy this maybe? end of a friends to lovers? I dont actually know what this is but thank you for the prompt!

Wille has a sunroom that overlooks the backyard, and that's where they eat, sitting on the same side of the table as they watch the sun set. They don’t speak, but Wille’s hand finds Simon’s under the table as they both stare out at the view, at the bird making a nest for itself in the branches of the tree in his yard.

It’s been happening more and more, Simon staying over and spending the entire day with Wille while they lounge on his sofa, Wille’s arms wrapped around him as they watch a movie, until they stop watching whatever movie they’ve decided to put on, because Wille’s lips inevitably find Simon’s, and then it doesn’t take long for Simon to crawl onto his lap and push Wille into the cushions, kissing him with everything he has, like he will die if they stop.

“We really should stop doing this,” Simon will say afterwards, not daring to clarify what this is. Wille will just hum and continue to card his fingers through his curls, and Simon will decide to let it go, because facing his own feelings is much more terrifying than telling himself it’s just casual, no strings, that they can stop when they want – especially when there’s the chance that Wille doesn’t feel the same way.

They should talk, he knows they’ll have to eventually, because what started as a simple arrangement between two friends to let off some steam every now and then has turned into so much more, something that overwhelms Simon at the best of times.

But for now, they’ll just have dinner while looking out over Wille’s garden, and the bird making a home for herself in the tree.

Send me Wilmon + a sentence and get 5(ish) more!

[helix-enterprises117]

Halo Reloaded: Heartbeats

John and Linda found themselves a rare slice of normalcy—or as normal as it could get for two Spartan supersoldiers who had seen more war than weddings. Their living space, though sparsely decorated, offered a comforting sanctuary from the never-ending chaos of their lives. A couple of mismatched armchairs, a rugged sofa that had seen better days, and a few personal mementos made up the decor. It was hardly the cover of "Better Homes and Gardens," but it was theirs.

Linda, barefoot and in her athletic-wear (her personal substitute for pajamas), lounged on the sofa, her legs stretched out as one leg is lazily crossed over the other. Since coming back from the brink of death with those new Forerunner-imbued powers, she'd been different—more distant, like she was listening to a song only she could hear. John, dead on his feet from the day's drills, decided to collapse right there, his head finding a soft spot in her lap. He sighed, the sound more akin to relief than exhaustion.

"What’s that? The fifth sigh in the last half hour?" Linda teased, threading her fingers through his hair.

"Just enjoying the quiet," John grunted, his voice muffled by the cushion. "It’s nice... not having to shoot at anything or anyone for a few minutes."

"Yeah, peace and quiet, the rarest commodities in the galaxy," Linda quipped, her tone light but her eyes betraying a hint of the weight she carried. "This whole telekinesis thing... it’s like learning to walk again, in someone else’s gravity."

John opened one eye and peered up at her. "But you're handling it like a champ. Always do."Linda smirked, a flash of her old self flickering through. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Spartan."

The room was steeped in a comfortable silence again, broken only by the subtle hum of the ship's engines. It was during these moments of quiet that John's senses, honed to near-perfection, picked up something new—a second set of heartbeats, faint but unmistakable.

He bolted upright, his soldier’s instincts momentarily flaring.

"Linda, are we—"

"Expecting?" she finished for him, a sly smile playing on her lips as she touched her stomach subtly. "Turns out, the artifact didn’t just bring me back and give me fancy new party tricks—it also kicked the baby factory into gear."

John’s face morphed from shock to awe as the information sank in. "Twins? Seriously?" he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.

"Seriously," she confirmed, her eyes alight with a mixture of joy and terror. "We're going to need a bigger boat."

John laughed, the sound echoing off the metal walls, warm and genuine. "A boat, huh? What about two cribs, more diapers than we can count, and... oh, right, figuring out how to be parents?"

Linda leaned back, her laughter mingling with his. "We’ve tackled ancient alien races and saved the galaxy—how hard can raising kids be?"

"Famous last words," John quipped, his hand finding hers, fingers intertwining. "But whatever it takes, we'll figure it out. Together."

"As always," Linda agreed, her voice steady, her grip firm.

[simstorian-blog]

N O O K S T O N E

(CC List + Links)

World Map: Oasis Springs

Area: Bedford Strait

Lot Size:  20 x 15

(3-bedroom—3 double beds, 2.5 Baths)

Gallery ID: Simstorian-ish

Packs Used

Expansion Packs

Cats & Dogs

City Living

Cottage Living

For Rent

Get Famous

Get Together

Growing Together

Island Living

Seasons

Snowy Escape

Game Packs

Dream Home Decorator

Jungle Adventure

My Wedding Stories

Parenthood

Realm of Magic

Spa Day

Strangerville

Vampires

Stuff Pack

Vintage Glamour

Build Mode

Awingedllama – Simple Windows & Doors

Felixandre – Berlin Pt. 2 (Glass Double Door Short)

Peacemaker – Multi-Level Carpet

Peacemaker – Vaulted Ranch

Simplistic – Elegant Wallpaper (Crane)

Simplistic – English Watercolour Wallpaper (Donegal)

Sooky88 – English Country Wall Set (Plain)

Sooky88 – Victorian Floor Tiles

Buy Mode

Anye – Mertice Chair

Awingedllama – Fluffy Blanket

BlueTeas

Empire Snooker Suspension Lamp

Samara Sconce

Sheer Curtains

CharlyPancakes

Lavish

Munch (Fridge, Stove)

Cowbuild – Mont Blanc Chandelier

Felixandre

Colonial Pt. 2 (Tray)

Fayun Pt. 2 (Linen Armchair)

Florence Pt. 1 (Piano)

Gatsby (Orchid Vase 1 v2)

Gothic Revival (Victorian Bedframe)

Grove Pt. 3 (Painting B, Painting C Leaning)

London (Chandelier Short)

Harlix

Baysic (Packs Wardrobe Clothing - ALL)

Harluxe (AC Control, Light Switch, Mini Bar)

Kichen (Stool)

Orjanic Pt. 2 (Curtains)

Tiny Twavellers (Dino Lamp)

Harrie

Coastal Pt. 7 (Bench)

Octave Pt. 2 (Metal Fireplace)

Octave Pt. 4 (Light Switches)

Shop the Look 2 (Ceramic Side Table, Dining Chair)

Stockholm (Ottoman)

Ice Cream for Breakfast – Ruggable x Iris Apfel Rugs

Joyce – Simple Live #8 (Tofu Bar Chair)

KiwiSims4

Blockhouse Sectional BGC

Blockhouse Bookcase

Leaf Motif – Garden Cover

Lili’s Palace – Intarsia Bedding

Peacemaker

Alesund Sectional

Bowed Bedroom (Bench, Dresser, Furrow Pouffe, Ring Dish, Vanity Table)

Futura Living (Fireplace Medium)

Pierisim

Oak House Pt. 2

Oak House Pt. 4

MCM Pt. 5 (Hair Brushes, Hair Dryer, Hang Clothing, Straightener, Wig Collection)

Unfold (Dragon Tree)

Vera Bathroom (Bathrobe Functional)

Winter Garden (Old Rug)

Woodland Ranch (Double Bedframe w. Canopy, Nightstands, Table Lamp)

Woodland Ranch Pt. 2 (Hanged Dishrack)

Woodland Ranch Pt. 3 (Old Rug)

Myshunosun

Gemini Vase

Luna Slippers

Simplistic

Loloi Rugs (Part I)

Vincent Van Gogh

Vintage Silk Divider

SixamCC – Luggage Cart

Sundays

Kediri Pt. 1 [Ceiling Light, Throw Pillow (solids)]

POP! Pt. 1 (Throw Pillow II)

Sumba Pt. 1 (Pillow Set I)

Swell Pt. 1 (Mattress, Pillows, Throw)

Yarra Pt. 2, 3 (Bed Cushion Set, Duvet)

Syboubou – Wall Panel Mirror

The Townie House Project – Moderno Pouf Ottoman

TaurusDesign

Eliza Walk-in Closet

Lilith Chilling Areas Pt. 1 (SulSul Sign)

Tuds – Turn Lounge

DO NOT REUPLOAD MY LOTS.

DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.

DO NOT PLACE BEHIND A PAYWALL.

Tray Files: DOWNLOAD

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

Continuation of this ask

Conductor x reader Deliberator x reader

CONDUCTOR

He was the rhythm of life, the Conductor, spinning his baton and making melodies out of hopeless noise. He and his brothers and sister kept the world in order, or as much order as they could when up against Improbability.

The Employers lived on a split plane or reality, comparable to heaven in some aspects, except not even good souls could wander this realm, only the Employers could inhabit this place.

And yet to every rule, there was an exception, that being you. Cold marble tiles lay beneath your feet as you sat in contentment in the garden, lazily reading a book while lounging on an iron bench, which had been given plush cushions for your enjoyment.

Catching the fancy of these godly being was near impossible, and yet you'd managed to attract the maestro of life, black and blue wrapped rightly around your fingers. Flicking the page, you set the book down and took a sip of your tea, Romulus raising his furry head to look at you, before setting it back down.

Of course, the Employers had pets, Rom being the pet wolf of one you rarely saw but often heard screaming at Auditor for some unknown reason. He would often lay around in the garden when you were about, seemingly keeping an eye on you, as did his counterpart.

Remus darted down, plucking loose fluffy tufts from Rom and flapping back into the large apple tree at the centre of the garden, letting out a caw now and then.

A sweet bass melody echoed around, Conductor was drawing near. He had a habit of humming as he walked, the deep vibrations calming the environment around. Rom looked up, letting out a "urf" while getting to his feet, Remus flying over and landing on his head.

Your lover would always shoo the pair away when he came to see you, and by now, they'd learned to leave before he even arrived.

His slight heels clicked on the floor, while you continued to read. "My muse," He spoke with a low tone, his voice naturally deep. "how radiant you look today, bathed in the light."

"Hello Connie," You set your book down, laying the bookmark in and closing it, giving him your full attention. "thank you love." He took your hand, placing a kiss on the back of your palm.

To everyone, he was the Conductor. To you, he was Connie. Anyone else who'd care call him your nickname for him would be taught a valuable lesson. "Muse, my dear, my inspiration is currently lacking. Allow me if you will to share your space and soak in your glory to fuel my passions."

Under his angry, stern exterior was a hopeless old-timey romantic. To anyone else, he'd command, but to you, oh you, he'd beg at your feet for your adoration. "Of course, you know I love to spend time with you Connie."

Conductor swept you into his arms, taking your place on the bench with you resting on top of him, your head resting on his chest, you could hear the drumbeat that was his heart. Everything in him was music, even the faint blue veins in his black arms looked like sheet music, little notes formed into them as well. They made up the same melody he always hummed.

He was a busy being, it was rare the two of you spent a long amount of time together, so every second you got was precious. Absentmindedly, you traced patterns along his sternum, relaxing both of you.

"I am a little troubled." He looked at you, half lidded blue eyes. "Stygian was talking with me earlier. He brought up a decently valid point. You... Are still a mortal, at the end of the day, and I don't feel I spend enough time with you." Conductor sighed, even in melancholy, he was so beautiful.

"I don't bring it up to you frighten you. Steeg says you've still got plenty of time on your side. Yet he reminded me that.... In the grand scheme of things, your life is but a blink compared to mine. And it worries me." You looked into his sad eyes, sparkles of stars reminding you why you loved him.

"Connie... I know we're vastly different, but that's what I love about us. I know I won't live nearly as long as you, but that makes the time we spend together even more precious, doesn't it?" You continued to rub his chest, and he sighed longingly.

"Muse, you always soothe my worries." Conductor leaned down, kissing the top of your head. "My love for you grows deeper and deeper, I will devote as much life to you as I can from now on."

You shifted your position, chest to chest with Conductor now, and you peppered his face in kisses, a smile breaking across his face, before turning to gorgeous laughter. "Better my love?"

Conductor kissed your lips, rubbing your cheek with adoration. "You always make my life better, my muse." He needed reminding of it now and then, how fragile your body always was compared to his. Yet when your time came, he'd turn to Stygian again, finding your reincarnated S-3LF over and over, as he had for centuries. In many lifetimes he loved you, and he'd continue to love you for many, many more.

DELIBERATOR

Decision making was a good quality of yours, you would swiftly and continuously end up making the correct choice anytime one happened. Your friends even joked you were blessed by some sort of god because of your skill, and they weren't far off the truth.

Deliberator spent much of his free time watching over this curious mortal, he'd become a little obsessed, gifting them with the power of foresight, watching them scurry around their silly man-made city like a mouse.

He knew fine well he and his kin weren't really meant to mess with the life below them, but each still bent the rules and dipped their toes into mortal life now and then, one off experiments to see how the life reacted. Yet Deli found himself coming back to this one, he couldn't put a finger on why though.

Frequently he'd transform, hiding his Employer appearance to a grunt, blending in as best as he could, but some things, such as his glowing white eyes, couldn't be changed. He'd hide them with shades, even then, they'd glow slightly.

Deli sat alone at a table, pretending to read a newspaper at the booth he occupied while keeping a close eye on you at work. A small and homey diner, which prided itself on good and fast service.

"There you are hon," You smiled, setting down a fat stack of pancakes in front of the frequent customer. He was quiet, rarely ever speaking a word to you, but he tipped generously and was fairly handsome. Salt and pepper hair, sunglasses, dressed in a pressed suit and white shirt, looking like an aged businessman.

You topped off his coffee, leaving enough room for him to throw in the multiple cubes of sugar into the black liquid. "anything else I can get you?"

He set his newspaper down and gestured at the space across from him. "Perhaps a moment of your time?" That was a strange and unexpected request, yet curiosity found yourself humouring him. Deli fought off a smile, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. Of course you would, he knew you'd always make the correct decision.

"Well it's not something on the menu, but I guess I can take a couple minutes break." It wasn't too busy right now anyway, everyone else busy in talking, drinking and eating.

"You seem to have adept judgement." He tipped the entire container of syrup onto his pancakes. "Help me with something I've been mulling over."

You looked at his pile of sugar and held back a laugh. "Is it that you've been wondering if you should ask for a second syrup cup when you eat here?"

"Ah, heh. No, something else. But perhaps I should. From all the things your kind had invented, processed sugar is no doubt the peak of your creations." Deli slipped up there, and he knew you'd picked up on it. "If by some chance, a higher power was looking down and observing you, what would you think?"

Sitting across from him, your eyes meeting the dark shades covering his own, you pondered for a moment. "Like a god? Can't say I'm too religious, but it'd be pretty neat I suppose. But I'd have to wonder why they'd take time from their busy day to humour me."

"Maybe because I see something in you." Deli shoved a mouthful of sugary goodness into his maw.

"You see something in me? What, you're telling me you're some kinda god or something? Pretty far-fetched. Did you happen to break out of Seeking?" You tilted your head, trying to decipher the clues he's dropping, but it's not making sense.

Deliberator set down his fork and took off his shades, revealing white eyes filled with intricate and beautiful abstract patterns, dark grey shapes shifting infinitely in glowing ivory. "No, I do believe I am some form of god to your kind." You stared at him, and the silence around you settled in.

Glancing around, you and your regular still seated in the booth, yet the diner and all else was gone. The pair of you in the comfortable seat lost in the inky black nothing. "Wha-what the hell is this?" Perhaps you'd gone mad too.

Looking back to the stranger, his disguise had faded, showing his Nevadian form. Pluming black fire, black geometric shapes surrounded in milk white lines floating off his body and turning to nothing. "It's uncouth for my kin to take such a deep interest in the world we watch over, and yet something draws me to you. Allow me to properly introduce myself,"

He set down a white glowing set of scales on the table, perpetually equally balanced. "Your kin calls me Deliberator, and I oversee balance and justice in your world. And you, my curious little friend, just so happen to be precisely what I'm searching for."

His hands took yours, and the vast emptiness filled with stars around you. "Another being of balance, one of keen and sound mind. It takes me centuries to find those worthy of my time, there are so few. You have no idea how long I have yearned to find you."

Fear, curiosity, wonder all filled your mind. This had to be a hallucination or something. There's no chance in hell any of what was currently occurring was real. "This... Has got to be the weirdest dream I've had yet. Until a few minutes ago it felt so real. When do I wake up from this?"

Deli spun you around, showing off the world, his world, the things he sees, feels and lives in every moment. "Perhaps when you open your mind to me, see things from a new perspective. It's a lot to ask, a leap from your familiar into the unknowns of godhood, but you'll behold such wonderful sights, experience things you could never have comprehended.

The universe exists on a knife's edge, judgement to maintain balance is needed. I trust in you to uphold that, if you'll take on the burden."

Decision making... A fine quality you upheld over and over, each time making the correct choice...

"With you? I will."

[indecorcollection]

Wooden Plant Home Decor Stand: A Touch of Nature for Your Home

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If you're looking for a unique and stylish way to display your plants, consider buying a wooden plant home decor stand from Indecor Collection. You won't be disappointed!

[thepenultimateword]

Love Thy Enemy Part 2

I wrote part one a while ago, but this seemed like a perfect post to add to the fantasci community! Also, the characters now have names. General is now Vorrin and Empress is now Callista.

Part One

Vorrin awoke with a start. He didn't know at what point he drifted into real sleep, but the early morning sun now bathed the room in dull, dove-gray light. But not his room. He abruptly rolled over onto his other side. The space beside him was now empty.

He flopped onto his back with a heavy sigh. That was probably for the best. Falling asleep next to her had been hard enough, he hadn't exactly wanted to wake up next to her too. He already felt entirely too vulnerable.

"Good morning."

Vorrin yelped, shooting upright and whipping his head around the room until he landed on Empress Callista's long, slender figure lounging in one of the plush sitting chairs. She smirked and crooked one dark brow, but other than that made no comment on Vorrin's embarrassing display.

"Breakfast?"

"You're still here," Vorrin said.

"Indeed. I did say we'd be spending more time together, didn't I?" She lifted the delicate teacup from its saucer and took a long, silent sip. "You slept in a little longer than expected, but no matter. We still have about an hour."

"Before?"

"You're coming into the city with me. It's about time people saw us together publicly. Besides, the change of scenery may be good for you."

Vorrin hated how she could sound conniving in one breath and caring in the next. What was he? Her pet? Something to parade around and spoil? Did she really think that any of these luxuries or favors could change his feelings about what she'd done? Though he did not deny, that a part of him longed to leave these palace walls. It had been months since he'd been any further than the gardens.

He swung his legs over the mattress and gingerly rose to his feet. "Shouldn't I get back to my rooms? To get ready?"

"I've already requested your manservants to attend to you here. They'll bring your change of clothes and fix your hair.

"My...?" Vorrin glanced across the room into the great gold-framed looking glass overhanging the vanity and found his long, chocolate hair had decided to tangle itself into a bird’s nest on one side. The other side lay frazzled over his shoulder, like he'd taken to rubbing it between two whetstones. Probably all that tossing and turning last night.

Vorrin rapidly dragged his fingers through the mess. It didn't seem fair that Empress Callista's hair still remained tight and tidy in it's whippish tail.

"You still have a few minutes before they arrive. You should eat. Reports tell me you don't eat much, but this is your favorite breakfast."

Vorrin crept toward the spread. A kettle sat on a wooden hot plate, the scent of sweet mint escaping out it's long silver spout. Beside it sat a plate full of steaming biscuits, halved, buttered and slathered in strawberry jam.

His stomach growled traitorously.

Empress Callista waved to the open seat across from her.

Vorrin begrudgingly accepted. The bitterness only grew as the cushions sank beneath him, setting him a couple inches shorter than the empress. But he tried not to let the annoyance show on his face as he stacked three biscuits on top of each other and took a large bite. Letting her know he was upset would only give her more power.

His stomach squirmed a little as he swallowed. This really was his favorite breakfast. He wondered how much she knew about him already. He'd known all the servants in the palace were her people, but he hadn't realized that they'd been her eyes as well. How much did they report? How much of what he said, of what he did, had been repeated back to her?

"Even if you weren't from an enemy nation, I'd still have you watched," Empress Calista said. Vorrin shuddered a little at the way she seemed to read his mind. "You're my consort. It's my responsibility to ensure you are properly attended to. That means keeping you safe and meeting your creature comforts. Better if I understand what makes you happy."

"My freedom would make me happy."

Callista tapped her lips thoughtfully with the edge of her spoon before using it to scoop a couple cubes of sugar into her half-full cup. "I suppose I can arrange an armed escort every now and then if you're restless."

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"And you know I can't let you go. So why don't we both stop pretending?"

A light rap on the door snapped the growing tension in two.

"Enter," the empress called in that gracious voice of royalty. Not too loud, not too aggressive, but commanding all the same.

The door creaked, and Pins poked his head through the door, a small leather bag slung over one shoulder. At the sight of the empress he immediately bent in half, folding his hands in front of him and gluing his eyes to the floor.

"We've come to prepare Royal Consort Vorrin for the day, your majesty."

"Right here, Pins," Vorrin said.

Pins's head rose a centimeter toward Vorrin's voice, then he raised up all at once with a large grin. "Good morning, Royal Consort. Your hair is exciting this morning. I've brought a brush and several accessories for you to choose from. Would you like to get started, or would you prefer to dress first?"

As if on cue, Switch slid into the room, breathing heavy and face flushed, a long red garb draped across his arms. He bowed hastily to Vorrin and then deeper to the Empress, speaking to the floor as he began profusely apologizing. "Forgive me, your majesty, Royal Consort Vorrin. The outfit selected for today had a tear. The royal tailor claims it will not be ready until this evening. I took the great liberty of selecting another outfit of a similiar style. Does it please your majesty?"

Empress Callista's sharp eyes scanned over the draping fabric in a couple seconds. "It will do."

Switch looked ready to melt with relief. He turned sharply on his heel toward Vorrin, eyes still wide, frantic, and slightly watery as if he had been, or barely held back from, crying.

"Then shall I, my lord?"

Vorrin felt all eyes on him, but most importantly he felt the gaze of Empress Callista. If her eyes seemed sharp overseeing his outfit, they were even more daggerish digging into his side profile. He gripped the neck of his nightclothes tightly, a humiliating squire's blush rising to his cheeks as he couldn't seem to make his hands take the action to undress.

After what felt like an eternal silence, she pushed smoothly to her feet. "I'll leave you to it. Remember, darling, one hour."

And with a swish of her braid and long cape, she was gone.

As soon as the door shut, Switch immediately collapsed.

"I thought I was going to be fired," he bawled, a few tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

"Empress Callista doesn't fire people for finding tears in clothes," Pins said.

Switch's head snapped up. "Don't act smart, you've only been here as long as I have. You didn't know what was going to happen either!"

For the first time, it occurred to Vorrin that the two servants may be as fresh to the royal scene as he was.

"How long have you been working in the palace?"

Switch hesitated a moment, always the suspicious one. Maybe he thought Vorrin wanted to berate him for the clothing mishap.

"A little under 6 months," he answered finally. "I applied for a position as soon as word came that the empress would be staying in Totholan. I traveled here with the rest of the serving caravan."

Vorrin had assumed after the kingdom's conquering that Empress Callista had sent for her regular palace staff. Those she most trusted. But it made sense that she would have left some to care for the homeland palace in her absence. Any person wishing to make it into the Empress's employ would seize the sudden surge of job availabilities. And all it took was a willingness to relocate.

"And you, Pins?"

"6 months and 10 days," he piped peevishly. "Switch was only mostly right when he said we've been here the same amount of time. I was hired on before we found out of the empress's success. So I've been in the palace just a teensy bit longer. Plus, my mum was a maid, so I was already used to palace walls."

"But the empress wasn't there when you started work," Switch said. "So it doesn't make you any more the expert."

"Why do you always need to be better at everything?" Pins said with a pout. "Why can't you just admit I have something on you?"

"Because you don't."

Before Pins could respond, Switch marched away, laying the clothes across the bed and stepping behind Vorrin to begin helping untie his white sleep clothes.

"I wouldn't have let her fire you," Vorrin said, sliding out of the sleeves and letting the soft linen fall into Switch's hands. "If that's of any comfort."

Switch paused, folding the nightclothes into a neat square before finally responding. "It is."

He retrieved the new outfit, blessedly allowing Vorrin to put the first part on himself. It was a little different from most of clothing he was given. Trousers for one. Impractical ones, but trousers nonetheless. Next was a long ruffled tunic that laced all the way up to his throat. Switch helped him with the long draping overcoat, a similar style to the wrapping robes, though this one had no waist tie and buttoned to the middle of his chest. For his bare feet was a pair of short soft boots, little thicker than slippers.

As soon as he was dressed, Pins got started brushing through his hair until it was silky.

"Which ones?" he asked, pulling a leather wrap from his bag and unfolding a display of hair ornaments. Ruby hairpins and golden chains, a net-like crown, encrusted with jewels, a gold circlet with red diamond teardrops dangling at the temples, twin clips designed to appear as sprigs of current berries, each ruby a berry on a silver branch. Vorrin chose the ruby pins. They still may have been worth more than he'd ever made in his entire career, but at least they were less gaudy than these others.

"Aw," Pins said. "I wanted to do the net and chains." Then suddenly remembering they were addressing a superior quickly added, "But the pins are lovely too!"

"You can add the chains," Vorrin sighed.

Pins perked up, plucking up the metal strings and beginning to braid them into strands of Vorrin's hair. He gathered half the hair into a bun, using the ruby pins to secure it and the gold-twined braids together.

A couple minutes later, Empress Callista pushed open the doors without a knock. She surveyed Vorrin swiftly before giving the manservants an approving nod that sent them grinning and offering her arm out to Vorrin.

"Shall we, my love?"

Vorrin gritted his teeth. Such falseness. Such lies. Such utter humiliating mockery.

He linked arms with her anyway.

If he knew one thing it was this: he couldn't win against Empress Callista with brute force. He would need another tactic. A passive one. Something that looked deceivingly like cooperation. Until the time was right to strike.

Part 3

Master Taglist: (I forgot to add it again!)

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees s @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi i @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner r @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer mer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindo @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee

[tenderlyrenjun]

Married

(Jisung ver.)

minors + inactive/empty blogs do not interact; fic rec blogs do not reblog without comments

a/n: repost, sorry; if people still hate it, I’ll take it down but please stop telling me that my fics suck; please be nice, i'm having a rough time in life and I wrote this in like 2-3/ish days … I’ve just been thinking about Jisung a lot; I think he’s neat

word count: > 12k (sorry)

married (og, jeno ver)

edit: oppa kink removed.

includes … afab reader, tw jewellery, tw food (not in a sexual way) established relationship, unusually clingy jisung, non-marriage proposals, reciprocal ‘ooooh you want me so bad’ dynamic, better than gold TDS2 in BKK body rolls mention, implied (and wrong) experienced virgins, lots of making out, hair pulling, oral sex (m + f receiving), lowkey exhibitionism, sex in a supply closet, first times, ass grabbing, vague choking, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, thigh job (m + f receiving), fingering, lowkey size kink/difference, creampie consent – homophobes dni; mark + doyoung are gay

again, minors + inactive/empty blogs do not interact

“Hey, my dad said Doyoung asked you to be the ring bearer.”

Jisung tears his attention from the engineering student portal as you kick your way through the blankets, teetering candy boxes over a bowl of popcorn, path dimly lit by the TV and Renjun’s candles. He offered, about twenty minutes ago, before you stockpiled half his snacks on the couch with him, to gather the food, but you assigned him to pull out the cushions into a kind of bed setting. It only took a couple seconds, as it always does for him, which is why, since the last movie night, he’s had an inkling suspicion that you keep having him unfold the couch. That, or you want to keep him out of the kitchen, on account of all the times he dropped and sprayed soda all over the floor. He makes up for it!, he hopes, like earlier when he got all the snacks from the convenience store downstairs – at 10 PM, if he might add. Granted, his long legs make the trip shorter than if you went, with or without him. Actually, once, or twice, or a few times really, whenever you go with him on those allegedly short walks across the road, it extends an hour, two hours, past midnight, not that he minds. Jisung never minds; he uses it as an excuse to take a break from the studying he scarcely does – on the surface, of course. His more romantic side holds your hand and tells you that he just likes spending this time with you because you study too much at the lounge in Square Garden.

“Yeah,” Jisung answers, “Doyoung asked his morning.” He takes the candies from you first, then the popcorn, helping you settle comfortably below the thin throw blanket next to him. A soda can slides down with the new incline and he catches it with his foot, placing the bowl between your thigh and his, beside the other snacks. “Apparently, his fiancé didn’t confirm anything, and they were a party member short,” he shrugs. “Are you still the flower girl?”

You nod, “mmhmm,” then crack open the soda he caught; you put two straws inside, pulling the blue one (his) a little bit taller. “Jeno thought I was going to be a grooms-woman though and asked if we were walking down the aisle together.”

Jisung scrunches his nose. That doesn’t even make sense. You all – him, Jeno, you, Renjun, Jeno’s girlfriend, etc. – are attending the wedding from Doyoung’s side of the family, at an unequal ration (he and his fiancé have three grooms-people each; you wouldn’t be able to walk with Jeno). But he makes no corrective comment, instead slowly unwrinkling his mouth. “I don’t think his girlfriend would like that.” Because he wouldn’t like it very much, no matter how many times he tells you that he’s not a jealous guy.

Jisung quickly takes a small sip of Cola while you still have it in your hands, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Why? You don’t trust me?”

He slurps a little too hard, choking on the sudden rush of soda down his throat, and pulls off. “No, that’s not – of course, I do –“ Then, you start laughing, and he pushes your chest, another smile widening into his cheeks. “Ah, you’re so …”

“So what?” you bounce back, knocking your shoulder into him. “So lovely? So pretty? So Park Jisung’s girlfriend?”

Jisung catches you with both hands, an arm wrapping around your shoulders, his fingers grazing your cheek. He pulls a serious frown that doesn’t quite meet the curve in his eyebrow. “Mmhm, yeah,” he answers the last one, leaning in tighter. “You’re so Park Jisung’s girlfriend.” His lips almost touch yours, thumb tilting your face upward, breath a poor, poor substitute for your tongue. “Don’t forget it.”

You wrap your hand under his wrist, pushing his arm up a bit further. He casts his eyes toward yours for a second but sees you staring at his parted lips. Your tongue peaks its tip, briefly catching his most prominent tubercle. “Never.”

You make the first move, for him, thankfully, because he debated, too long, how to proceed with you still carrying the soda in your lap. His broad shoulders envelop you when you fist his hoodie, dragging him and the collar down, zipper chafing his bare sternum. Jisung braces a hand on the couch, somewhere near your hip that his index finger feels, steadying the both of you upright. It only lasts a second, before you both fall into the pillows, and the cushions barely support you two, so you cling to each other. He readjusts your hips under him, your knee bending to avoid the popcorn bowl, which probably already spilled. Your hand slips into the split ends of his hair and pulls, drawing out all his breath, making his hand slip under your ass.

Then you pull harder, and his breath becomes audible, becomes a moan.

You – and he – learned this evil little fact somewhere around the seventh month mark – his hair pulling kink. Jisung met you after a particularly long evening class, holding a thin bouquet of pink tulips and couple bracelets in his trench coat. He kissed the top of your head, an arm wrapped around your shoulders, hiding you and your backpack in his large jacket, on the way to his car. You made it to the restaurant about 10 minutes early, but the table ran late, so the both of you sat in the backseat, pointing out the moon in mirror’s reflection, talking and talking until you were no longer talking, kind of like now. And you pulled the ends of his hair, nails grazing into his scalp, to get him on top. You ended up being late to you reservation.

“J-Jisung,” you whisper, cut off by the harder he presses his lips.

He shifts around the couch, aligning you perpendicular to the snacks, better lit by the candlelight, straight against the original layout, your head on the arm rest now – all without breaking the kiss. And his hands get more frantic, taking away the soda, mauling your hips, flipping his fingers repeatedly over your waistband.

“Is this too far?” Jisung asks when his thumbs sink above your underwear. He can feel the tiny organza flowers bulging into his finger pads. You both have gone through most of the bases, with each other – been making out, hot and heavy, since your fourth date; groping each other over and under your clothes since the second month; touching each other a little more south since that seventh month mark. He has seen you naked, too! Well, mostly naked; sometimes you wear his hoodie or only your underwear, which leaves little to the imagination, but still, he hovers and asks.

Your eyes blink slowly, opening just a crack but so obvious in the dark. He waits for you to look at him, following you up his neck to his face. You bite your lip a tiny bit, right in the middle, almost imperceptible until you let go, and he pecks you once, pulling away just as quickly even though your lips trail after him.

“No,” you mumble, also fast, jutting out your chin to kiss him again, sliding your arms around his neck, hands down between his shoulder blades. “Jisung, please, keep going. I want – I want to –“ You suck in a breath and center yourself (and him). “I want you.”

Jisung grunts your name, popping his chest like a dance move before he locks himself onto you, rolling your torso with him. He presses your hips down, deeper into the couch. Your shins stand up, outlining him, giving his dick a small crevice between your pants against which to rub. Instinctively, he bites his lip – and yours, and you yelp, prompting him to apologize, but you yank him even closer, nails clawing into his cheeks. You slip your plump tongue into his mouth, drawing his out, and your lips feel even softer on his tongue as you kiss around it, kind of like that time you gave him head, back when you still lived in the dorms on campus. He barely fit those days, and each thrust would drag your lips back into your mouth with him; he basically trained you, since then, to take his entire length in one stroke. Same with his long fingers beneath your panties, which now unbutton your trousers. He crosses your leg one on top of the other, pausing, on his knees, to grind against your ass. And you both roll your eyes shut, incoherent mumblings spilling down both your tongues without the other to mash them away. Jisung dives down again, both hands shimmying off your pants while he kisses you, equally fervent.

But once he gets them down your ankles, your feet prepared to kick them off, the lights turn on.

“Oh!” Renjun groans from the entrance, a brown grocery bag covering his eyes as he makes his way into the kitchen behind the couch. “Could you not do that on the communal furniture? Please?”

Maybe Jisung takes Renjun’s words a little too closely to heart, or maybe he wants to save money by booking a multiroom suite with his friends, or maybe he really wants to make love to his beautiful girlfriend who he has known for years now, because he agrees with his friends on the shared unit, like his apartment with Renjun, for Doyoung’s weekend wedding in mid-Seoul near the Han River. Jaemin convinced everyone that they would need a place to rest and get dressed without having to make the hour/hour and a half drive back to their apartments in upper Seoul. The hotel also gives Jisung the excuse to sleep next to you (just sleep, Renjun glared, traumatized after your date night), which he absolutely loves, in a different way, laying on your chest, matching your breath, siphoning off some of warmth to you.

It was the first thing you both did when you got to your rooms – sleep.

Jisung dropped your duffel bag and his – both couple items – in an open armoire while you settled his smaller backpack on the vanity. Neither of you opened any bags, wordlessly and simultaneously collapsing on the singular king-sized bed. You sprawled out for a couple seconds, then searched for each other’s hands in the sheets. He turned to you first, after you intertwined your fingers, and kissed your knuckles, one at a time, doubling back on your ring finger. It made you giggle, which made him giggle.

“Ah, I like being here with you,” he confessed, flopping against the mattress again, brushing away his bangs from his forehead, a dumb, gummy smile spreading up his face.

He never told you this, but a few months into dating, when you accidentally stayed the night at his apartment for the first time, falling asleep on his full-sized bed while he finished a last-minute assignment, Jisung had this epiphany where he realized that he likes this, likes sharing a bed with you (he almost asked you to move in, but that would have been way too soon, especially for a couple of kids). Then, after he fixed your hair, tied it into a ponytail sometime before sunrise for a hiking date along the Yeongbong Peak Trail, he realized that he likes the intimacy of being with you, his girlfriend. And he finds himself, this weekend, on the second evening staying at the hotel, looking for all those moments of intimacy.

Like now, he sits on the end-of-the-bed bench, watching you fix your eye makeup in the mirror according to Doyoung’s navy and gold rehearsal dinner, matching a shimmering highlight with the trim in the slit of your maxi dress. You wore this same dress – and him the same matching suit – to some European restaurant with him a couple months ago. No special occasion that time; you just met him at a restaurant for date night after not seeing him all two weeks of midterm season. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, people said when he was younger and naïve and didn’t quite understand them enough to believe, but he got it instantly, in that moment, and essentially made a vow never to be that far from you again – probably why he seeks and prolongs these moments of intimacy, and why he likes your dress so much, among a few other reasons.

“Are you finished?” you call, a little garbled as your mouth hangs while you apply mascara.

“Almost.” Jisung looks down at the loose tie around his neck. “Just need to fix one last thing.” He looks back toward you, and you look beautiful and mostly finished, not that he knows, entirely, what look you will be completing. He just thinks you are always pretty. “Are you almost done?”

“Not really.” You pull away from the bathroom mirror, blinking a few times, then turn to him. “How does this look – Oh, are you not wearing the couple watch tonight?”

“No, I am.” Jisung points to his silver watch on the table at the other side of the room with his black blazer. “Are you wearing yours?”

You nod. “Yeah, I just need to add some lipstick and jewellery, and I’ll be done.”

Jisung stands up and crosses the room to get behind you. He lifts your hair in an impromptu ponytail, making sure to grab lowly as not to ruin what you have done so far. “I'll help you,” he half-requests, gently, already pulling your long necklace into place and clasping it at the perfect length. He spins you around to add the bracelets and watch, but you have yet to finish applying makeup, so he holds your hands and kisses you slowly, like the scene of a movie (or an artsy porno).

You put a hand on his arm, jerking him forward, leaning on the door frame. He tilts his head a little bit left, nose brushing into your cheek, and you copy him enough for him to feel your breath on his face. Ever since the first time he kissed you longer than a simple peck, Jisung has been obsessed with all the ways he can elongate a simple kiss. One way you do, and this doubles as giving him consent, is by wrapping your arms around his neck, which you do now, hiking your leg, through your slit, around his waist high up, practically sitting on the sink counter. It gives him a better angle, more comfortable, against the height difference, to bend his neck. Jisung hikes your other leg around his waist, sandwiching you between him and the wall, thigh supported by the sink, an ass cheek supported by his large hand, his pelvis pressing too tightly into yours. He brushes your hair to the side and presses a trail of quick kisses down your jaw that have your breath elevated, turning into whispered moans of his name that he has to kiss quiet.

You hold his chin still, about to return the trail of kisses, when three knocks hit the bedroom door.

“Are you guys do – Oh, come on,” Jeno groans, throwing his hands in toward the exit, swinging his entire body away from the bathroom (a private bathroom, Jisung mentally adds). “Wrap it up, people. Jaemin is one perfume spray from being ready, and we’re already five minutes late for the rehearsal dinner.”

Jeno leaves as quickly as he entered, but Jisung still scrunches his nose, making a small annoyed face at the door. You tap his arm quickly a few times, and he steps back, helping you hop down the counter.

“So … do you still need help?”

You deadpan at him. “Out.”

“Is it always that bad or am I just noticing it now?” you call from the bathroom again.

Jisung laughs and pauses the TikTok on his phone. “What? You don’t want to marry me?”

You point a half-used wet wipe at him, brown eyeliner smudged past the corner of your eyebrow. “You proposed to me twice!”

Jisung rolls his eyes and onto his stomach over the bed. “One of those doesn’t even count!” During your two-year anniversary picnic at the Han River, a few months ago, he proposed the idea of proposing when he saw a kid with a red candy Ring Pop. You didn’t turn him down, citing that you both already had platinum couple rings, and he proposed on the spot with his, even getting halfway down on a knee before you toppled him into the grass. Okay, maybe that one counts; Jisung rubs the back of his neck. “But all the aunties thought we were cute!” During the rehearsal dinner, they kept bringing up a follow-up wedding with all the couples – you and Jisung, Jeno and his girlfriend, Mark and his boyfriend. All of you treaded around the conversation, as if none of you have had The Talk with your partners yet, even though Jisung knows that Mark has a ring ready and Jeno has a date planned (and he has a proposal in mind).

You turn off the bathroom lights and quickly jump into the bed, hiding your bare legs under the blanket without him, fluffing his extra-large hoodie over your head.

Jisung frowns and scoots into bed with you. “Did it really bother you that much?” He knows that he jokes about marriage from time to time, probably brings it up one too many times, but he is serious about it. If you said yes, he would marry you in an instant. You would wait anyways, for a big ceremony, until the both of you finish your degrees and have jobs, him delayed a few semesters due to military service before school, but he would marry you in an instant. “I can talk to the aunties tomorrow, so they don’t bring it up again.”

“No, Sung,” you backpedal. “It’s just that I never noticed it before. Of course, I want to marry you. We’ve just never really talked about the details before. We don’t even live together.”

Jisung settles into the pillows, dragging you down with him, into his arms. “We could,” he whispers. And you look up at him, eyes wide, a hand over his on your stomach. “Move in, and talk about all the details. We could move in together, you know. Maybe not on Monday or anything, but, like, next semester or next year, or something like that. We could wait until after college, too, if –“

“Jisung?”

“… Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Jisung sighs, in relief this time, melting a little bit deeper into the mattress, free hand taking his forehead temperature. “I love you, too.” He rolls on his side and buries his face in your neck, curling his long leg over your bare thighs. You comb his hair behind his ear a few times before he starts kissing your neck, sneaking into the hoodie with you – there’s enough room for two people if he squeezes.

“Jisung,” you sigh quietly. He looks up, catching you close your eyes, mouth parting enough for your tongue to peek out a bit, flat with the way you bite it. And he kisses your neck again, a quick, wet one, licking his lips so closely that his tongue catches your skin. Sometimes he doesn’t have exactly the right words, so he rambles through the entire dictionary until he finds the right one. He also really likes kissing you. “Jisung,” you sigh again, a little bit louder, more enunciated over the wet smacks that he tries to make chaste, given the brief conversation about marriage. “Mmm, Jisung.”

But like he said, he would marry you in an instant.

Jisung kisses your neck a little longer, a little harder, slipping around the column to find a perfect vein that makes you whimper his name exactly the same again. And pliantly, your head lulls into his palm, kissing his life lines almost deliberately. Jisung turns you back to him with the same palm, pyjama pants rolling your legs open, wide enough for him to slip between. He grinds down, the first kiss to your lips, fingers coiling in the hair behind your head, freehand pulling a thigh up his back. You seem to get the hint, tying your feet on his spine, pushing your heels down to trap him.

“If we – if we move in together,” you breathe, eyes closed, lips pursed, “I don’t think we’ll get very much sleep – Jisung – ah!”

Jisung coasts his throbbing boner through your lips, milling his pants against your underwear. His waistband starts folding over itself, exposing his Adonis belt further and further and further, until his ass is half out, almost matching the way your underwear tangles between your cheeks. He brings you up closer, pulling your head off the pillows, fully kneeling, making indents in the sheets.

“I want it,” he tells you, hauling you into his lap, making you straddle him backwards, “I want to move in together, to sleep together, to sleep together.” He squeezes you against the headboard, quietly banging it against the wall just once, then louder a second time as you meet him, equally, trying to fuse your bodies together. His hands start roaming, and your hands start roaming, only settling on the best place to knead each other – his broad shoulders and your ass. “I’m not just saying it, I promise.” You stare at him a few milliseconds, searching his eyes, then kiss him even rougher, making him lose balance, and he accidentally kicks the headboard harder.

“We’ll talk about it later,” you tell him, mouths misaligned, kissing around his cupid’s bow specifically. And Jisung sucks in a huge breath, holding it right there in his chest, gravitating the entire Earth’s rotation around his, well, his penis, the lifeline, right now, to his brain and heart. Then you whisper, “I want it, too. All of it,” and he exhales and flips you on your back, making you yelp and giggle, which makes him giggle.

“Right now, I want you.”

Jisung leans down again, half a centimeter from your lips … when a loud bang comes from the adjourning wall, accompanied by your names. He looks up at it, mouth still puckered, hoping that the sound came from you two. Sensing nothing, he kisses you again, and a moan escapes him, and the banging comes back.

"Jisung," Jaemin shouts. “I can’t tell if you’re just watching porn too loud or you’re trying to have sex in a hotel room that you share with your best friends, but it’s 3 AM, and we have to be up at 7 for the wedding, so, for the love of God, please go to sleep.”

You laugh out loud, and Jisung covers your mouth with one hand. Then, as expected, Jaemin hits the wall again.

“Hello?? What did I just tell Jisung?”

“Yo!” Mark wanders into your room, eyes covered his long blond hair and a single hand. The other blindly feels around the air, as not to bump into anything, but he still hits the end-of-the-bed bench where yours and Jisung’s clothes are neatly packed in black suit protector bags. “Are you decent?” he asks, stopping in place, “The guys sent me to see if you’re ready yet.” He spins his wrist in the air. “Something about not wanting to deal with –“ Mark takes a chance and peaks through his fingers … only to find you and Jisung sharing wired earbuds, laughing at a stupid, silly, little TikTok. He breathes a quick sigh, petting down his chest, then deadpans and grabs a pillow, throwing it at you two. “Hey!” He snaps his fingers. You both finally look up. “Time to go, losers. My boyfriend’s already pulled the car around; Jeno left 30 minutes ago; and the makeup artists started on the Doyoung's fiance’s groomsmen.”

You and Jisung make no move to get up.

“Hello? Now, please,” Mark practically orders.

“Um,” Jisung squeaks. He scrunches his nose, pressing his tongue on his bottom lip, in lieu of biting. It’s still a bit swollen from last night, when you both kept kissing each other through messy hand jobs, wanting the first time that you actually have real, penetrative sex to be more freeing. But still, he did have sex last night, and the reminders show, under the blanket, where you don’t wear pants. “Can you give us, like, two minutes to get dressed?” He gestures to the heap of blankets.

Mark throws his head back. “You’re not even dressed? Of course, you’re not.” He groans. “Okay, you have five minutes to be downstairs, or you’re driving yourselves.”

The moment Mark walks out the door, Jisung asks, “Should we just Uber there?”

You smack him with a pillow. “The makeup artist has to get both of us ready. We’re in the wedding party.” Jisung flails over that pillow, making you drop it, and you roll your eyes, getting up like Mark requested.

“Ugh.” He hugs the pillow tightly, covering the dick imprint in his boxers. “The wedding doesn’t even start until 3. We could have time to just …” Jisung watches you take off your sticky black panties and pull on even smaller ones, words trailing off, because now his 7 AM boner remembers how he kissed you until 5 AM; how your hands squeezed above his balls, while he slid his entire length in the crevice of your thigh; how he fingered you with three long digits, thumb pinching down on your clit. Then you catch him staring a little south of the hoodie you stole from the last time he did laundry (Thursday, when you slept over), and he finishes his sentence. “To – to just re-relax.”

You roll your eyes again and put on the Adidas sweatpants that Jisung bought you a few months ago. “Let’s go, Jisung.” And he rolls his eyes, sticking his tongue out his jaw.

"Fine, but you owe me a kiss."

Jisung accepts, or, really, takes his kiss, outside the hotel. He stops you a couple steps down the short perron, dress storage bag, hitting his thigh from how fast he moves. And - while Mark leans against his boyfriend's car, calling Renjun and Jaemin down, who are also late - Jisung gives himself the time, the moment, to pucker his lips.

But it turns into a longer kiss, backing up Renjun and Jaemin, who were not as late as he thought.

“Two and a half years, and you still suck face? Are you two even dating or just making out all the time?” Renjun shakes his head sarcastically. And Jisung pushes him into Jaemin, who catches him easily.

“Ay-yo??” Mark calls from the street, hand over his eyes like a visor. “We’re late, let’s goooo.”

In the car, Mark and his boyfriend take the driver and passenger seats, obviously, and Jaemin and Jeno’s girlfriend sit in the pop-up row in the trunk, leaving you, Renjun, and Jisung – the smallest and tallest of the group – in the middle, much to Renjun’s protest. Though, he only jokes about this stuff; he actually thinks that the both of you are “so cute” if his cuteness aggression is anything to go off. Sometimes he throttles you two, and Jisung is scared that he might get bitten (by someone who isn’t you).

The drive to the venue (re: other hotel) is only 15 minutes, so everyone tries to stay silent, on their phones, still waking up, not even properly dressed, but Jisung, of course, breaks it, laughing and mouthing stop through his gummy smile after you respond to his TikTok.

[Boyfriend ♡, 7:13 A.M.]

hey, look at this

[Boyfriend ♡, 7:13 A.M.]

https://tiktok...com

[Girlfriend ♡♡, 7:14 A.M.]

Are you trying to tell me something?

[Girlfriend ♡♡, 7:15 A.M.]

Andy Park? 🤨

“Ah, stop,” Jisung blushes. He rubs up your thigh and buries his face in your neck, lips curling into your skin prominently enough to act like another kiss. You sneak your hand around his head, combing out his bed hair.

“What?” you whisper in his ear, brushing away the longer strands. “Not going to propose a third time?”

Jisung covers your mouth and presses a quick kiss to your neck. “Someone’s going to hear you.” If it were any other situation, he would take you on the suggestion, half-jokingly proposing with whatever couple ring he happened to be wearing at the time. Mostly, he wants it to be an intimate proposal, just the two of you, eyes on each other; the after party, when you tell everyone, can be the bigger affair, but Jisung wants to see the ring slide down your finger and hear your answer clearly with his own ears. He peeks an eye and finds you already staring at him, cooing. “Why? Do you want me to propose again?”

Dramatically, you take off your ring and plop it in his palm. He laughs, audibly, breaking the silence again, but slips it down your finger regardless.

“Ehhh,” you grimace at it, playfully, twirling your hand in the sunlight, “Same ring.”

Jisung grabs you by the neck and kisses you quiet this time, only pulling away to peck your lips repeatedly. His thumb brushes into your cheek, fingers drawing you in, tilting your head at the perfect angle to slip his tongue down your throat. Your head falls pliantly, supported by his wrist that you hold, following every twist and turn he makes to kiss you harder.

“Okay! Here! Everyone out of my car!” Mark’s boyfriend shouts, loudly shifting the car into neutral a few steps from the Grand Hyatt Seoul. He looks pointedly at you and Jisung breathing heavily through the rearview mirror. “Especially you two.”

[Girlfriend ♡♡, 12:14 P.M.]

Meet me in the lobby

[Girlfriend ♡♡, 12:14 P.M.]

I have a surprise for you ^^

Jisung waits on a cushion bench, fully dressed in his navy tuxedo, silver accessories hidden under his sleeves and high collar to accommodate Doyoung's wedding theme. He scrolls back through your car ride conversation, since he has the time, smiling to himself, curling into himself, covering his mouth as he kicks his feet forward like a middle schooler with a crush.

You are continuously cute in his eyes, and, as he relives this reminder of just how cute you are, Jisung doesn't know how he got so lucky. Sure, yeah, you two make out ... a lot, as Renjun pointed out, but he also finds you incredibly compatible. You send him pictures of the moon at night and the sun in the morning; you go out with him at 1 in the morning to the good fish-shaped bread cart (the one by Jamsil stadium after all the concerts neither of you attended); you cheer his name after all the physics exams on which he tries his best.

Really, Jisung could go on forever and ever, gushing about pretty much every aspect of your relationship. He loves you so much. And he used to, back when you first started dating, and he still does during your anniversaries (100 days, 6 months, 1 year, etc.). All his friends complain, especially the bitchless ones (Renjun, Haechan, and Jaemin), but he wants you in his life for as long as you'll have him.

“Were you going to text me?”

Jisung jumps in his seat, automatically locking his phone. He relaxes though, the next second, when he sees you, and scoots over enough for you to sit with him.

But you keep standing.

And he raises an eyebrow.

“What are you –“

You kick your foot up, through the slit of your dress. Jisung thinks you wear these dresses often, which he likes, never mind that Doyoung picked this dress out - a fact he tries to ignore, even though he's pretty sure that he confided this secret to his friends and Renjun probably let it slip after a few drinks.

You catch your ankle, showing off the white bottoms under your heels, below the pretty, silver watch that you will have to take off before the ceremony. Jisung, on instinct, hold you steady first, seeing signs of imbalance in your face. He waits until you lean on him more before looking at your foot.

"Why are - Andy?" he reads, vertically down your foot. It takes him a second to react, chest pounding fast, first, mind going blank, eyes flying to search your smiling face. Then, he returns it - your smile. "Ah, you're so cute."

Jisung pulls you into his lap, like a princess on his knee, and kisses you fast. He might have you repeat this when you actually get married, already filing a mental note to save the TikTok for inspiration. For now, though, he can just pretend - pretend that you did this for your wedding, pretend that you will talk down the aisle for him today (well, you go first, so he will meet you at the first row in front of the alter today), pretend that your white-ish dress is for him, pretend that your current rings carry even more permanent meaning than they already do.

You laugh between the repeated pecks, trying to pull away, but he has you vice gripped close by his chest. “You’re so clingy this weekend, Park Jisung.” And he draws back first, briefly looking at you before burying his face in your neck, arms dropping down your waist. “Someone might think you actually like skinship.” You laugh again and comb his hair.

Jisung squeezes your waist, just once, breathlessly laughing with you. He knows – he knows that he isn’t really known for skinship, having waited days, in the beginning, to hold your hand, not even kissing you until your fourth date; and he knows that he has been obsessed with you these last few days, so he kisses your neck again and confesses, “I just … I just …” He sucks in a breath. “Ah, I just want you,” he finishes lamely. “Can we stay a little bit longer? Here, at the venue, without … everyone else?”

You pinch his cheeks upward, puckering his lips at which you coo. “Did you want to get married today, too?” you giggle. And he almost hides behind your hair, if it weren’t neatly tied up, braided forward to your temples, but also, you hold him as steady as he hugs your waist. He wouldn’t mind, you know, getting married today, after Doyoung; the only people missing, right now, are his siblings (and a few other people); he might want to buy you a new ring really quick though. “Hmm? What’s up, babe?”

“Everyone will be gone,” he says simply, and you relax your fingers curiously onto his shoulders, fumbling the lapels. “From the hotel, they’ll be gone. Most of them are leaving during the dinner, and Mark’s already packed up his boyfriend’s car with their bags. We’ll have an entire suite to ourselves; we won’t have to check out until tomorrow morning.” Jisung swallows and licks his lips, giving himself a beat of reprieve before his tongue goes numb, making it impossible to voice the reason for his request. You stare at him, wide eyed and nodding, urging him to go on, even though it looks like you already know what he wants to ask, even though he feels too scared to ask. “We could, um, we could – oh, God.” He likes to think that, since you’ve been dating for almost three years, he has gotten past most of the nervous, honeymoon stuttering, but he (loves you so much) takes a deep breath and starts again, rushing through, “Wecouldhavesex.”

And you giggle.

He wishes you wouldn’t. It sets a bad precedent for the activity he wants to do; albeit, you didn’t laugh those other first times – when he kissed you, when you sucked him off, when he fingered you. So, really, Jisung has no reason to worry. He just needs to suggest it again, calmly.

“We could use the hotel room, later,” he alludes, monitoring your reaction closely, involuntarily stiffening his fingers through your silky, pale gold dress. You give him more encouraging tiny nods, leaning in with each micro-adjustment, and he copies you, nodding to himself, giving himself the same support. “To have sex,” he whispers, then repeats, louder, “Make love. Do you … want to …?”

You exhale shakily, and he hadn’t realized you were holding your breath. “Yeah,” you sigh. “Yes, definitely.” You grab his face, and he wants to propose again, possibly for real, to see you react like this again, possibly more enthusiastic. “Jisung, I love you,” you say obviously, honestly, “Of course I want to have sex with you,” you whisper the last bit, like him, and he kisses your shoulder, suppressing his gummy smile briefly.

“Give me your ring.”

“Whoa?” You blink. “Just because I said yes? Park Jisung, I never thought of you as a player.” You giggle again and hand over the mismatched ring regardless, probably already knowing the question he has written across his face.

He almost apologizes, for not having a new present, a new ring, something new to give you for another relationship marker, but he changes his mouth to say your name and holds out the jewllery between his thumb and index finger, which are shaped like a heart, nail pushing the center design at you. “Will you,” he pauses, dramatically, muffling a sheepish laugh. “Will you,” he restarts, “make love to me tonight, in the hotel room – our hotel room, after the wedding?”

You roll your eyes and push his shoulder, but he stays still, keeping himself upright to drag an answer out of you. And you answer again, definitively, “Yes, Park Jisung, I will make love to you tonight in our hotel room.”

Except, after the wedding, past the foyer at the reception hall, you almost fuck your boyfriend in a supply closet. He’d only been dancing in the makeshift mosh pit with his friends, jacket fallen down his shoulders, mostly sheer white shirt exposing his toned humerus. They kept cheering him on through the popping and locking and body rolls as he wore a pair of cheesy, blue party glasses that Doyoung placed on all the tables with dessert. Then, the DJ – Doyoung’s friend Johnny from high school – slowed the melody, pulling all the couples onto the dance floor.

All the couples except you because you stole Jisung’s hand and dragged him out one of the smaller doors behind the furthest unoccupied tables. He tripped over a few chairs on the way, praying that no one heard him, trying to catch up the half-step you have on him, wondering what dastard plans you have on your mind.

“What are you –“

“It’s such a crime,” you tell him, shoving him against a poorly lit shelf, inhaling his lips, running your fingers along his torso, finding the best place to hold him. The door slams loudly, which is oddly comforting, to give you both some privacy. And he drops his hands from surrender onto your shoulders, relaxing you enough to continue talking through the kisses. “You look so good, too good, Park Jisung, and you dance so well. God,” you moan into his mouth, ridiculously close that he can feel your boobs squish on his chest. “I know, we’re waiting for tonight and tomorrow, and – and –“ You pull back swallowing, realigning your breath. Jisung licks his lips. He’s been the one to kiss you all weekend, to initiate it all weekend, so he gets hard, instantly, when you return the same energy, finding him as hot as he finds you. “We’re waiting,” you reiterate, and he presses his forehead against yours, “but – but can you do that dance move again – that body roll again,” you glance at him through your lashes, “on me?”

“Here?”

You nod, biting your lip. “If you don’t – we don’t have to; we can go back. I just – Jisung, ah, fuck.”

You rarely swear, never finding a reason unless you’re frustrated or really turned on, and Jisung always wants to hear it, claiming that you sound really sexy when you say things you’re not supposed to, especially, like in this case, when you are doing things you’re not supposed to. So rather than responding, he complies, pulling his face down, legs pliéd to accommodate your height, then rolls once, thigh grazing through the slit in your dress, dragging it up and behind your waist.

Jisung groans, deeply, pausing to settle his nerves. He repeats, even closer, grinding across your chest, twisting your dress around the buttons of his shirt. And you fall into him, a hand braced on the shelf behind his elbow. Jisung bites his lip. Something juxtaposes deeply in this moment, but he cannot place his finger quite on it. He feels like a middle schooler again, waiting to kiss the prettiest person at the party; he also feels like a teenager with raging hormones, back to 19 right before his military service, jacking off in his room with lotion and a box of tissues; but he also feels like an adult (or the most adult a person in their 20s can feel) in an adult relationship doing adult things. So he does it again – the body roll, breathing into your mouth, chasing your lips down for another kiss.

“I don’t want to make love to you in here,” he whispers, despite rolling his fully hard dick in the crevice between your thigh and vulva. Jisung fists your dress at your waist, bunching it higher. Your panties expose, thin and transparent. His resolve nearly falters, almost completely fucking you in this supply closet with his family and closest friends a few meters away. He kisses you again and again, burying his words with his tongue down your throat, exhaling shakily. Then, he shakes his head, slowly pulling away, holding your face in place, hand around the front of your neck. Jisung opens his eyes and finds you already looking at him, your fingers wrapping around his wrist one by one. “I want you –“ He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, that fell out of a tight braid. “– so bad, you have no idea.” He grinds his dick up your leg as proof. “But not here, not like this.”

“I know. I don’t want it like this either,” you tell him, smoothening the wrinkles in his shirt, staring down his chest. “I just … You looked so hot out there, and, God, Ji, I want you so, so bad, too.”

Jisung brings his hands down, fumbling this thumbs back and forth across your hips, your dress bunched up as you practically sit on his lap while he barely sits on a half-empty shelf. You snake your hands behind his neck, fidgeting with the tag in his coat. He tries to fight the smirk that appears in the corner of his mouth, sweeping his long hair in front of his eyes, but you catch him and bury your face in his neck this time.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whine, voice going up an octave at the last syllable. You tease him more than he teases you, verbally at least (he likes to think that he does more than you in bed), so he’s not entirely accustomed to his whiny girlfriend, and he kinda likes it.

“Never,” he tells you, sarcastically, chuckling a hair away from your lips before he kisses you again. “I like that you think I’m sexy.” He smirks, inhaling a deep embrace, literally taking your breath away with a slow and gentle kiss. You moan into his mouth, mumbling his name between colorful expletives. It lets him slip his tongue inside, confidently, crushing his lips harder and harder, needing you to come equally closer, to ease the pressure on his dick. He knows – he knows what he just said, but, “We don’t have to … have sex in here,” he tells you, whispering like it’s a bad word. “There are other things we can do.” He groans, throatily, chest rising faster.

You’ve done worse, honestly, in worse places than dry humping in a supply closet at a family friend’s wedding. He can think of several blow jobs in the library’s reference section (which has no cameras, by the way); or that time he held a vibrator on you the entire Starbucks drive-thru, resulting in him plastering his failed differential midterm over the windows as a cover up while he ate you out in the back seat. Actually, just last Tuesday too, at the gym, after he locked the door to a communal weight lifting room, you bounced on his long, agile fingers. Granted, it was 4 AM, so the place was already empty, save for a couple employees, thus easing his anxiety. And you could do it again, right now. You don’t have to take his dick inside your cunt, but you could give each other sloppy hand jobs, using spit as lube (or not; he's probably leaking so much pre-cum). The thought makes his knees buckle, making the both of you stumble.

“Sor –”

You cut him off with another kiss, your fingers flying to his pants, undoing his fly quickly. He grunts, involuntarily thrusting up. His dick was already pointing tip-up, the entire length, even flaccid, unable to sit snugly otherwise in his pants. You curl your nails in his waistband, scratching under his boxers. He nods his head, mouth parted, gasping, giving you all the green lights to touch him more, which you do, sliding one hand down his pants and the other onto his cheek, allowing you to deepen the kiss. Jisung grunts, again, plump lips biting your tongue, and he copies you, one hand behind your neck, under your head, anchoring himself to this moment (also, before he completely evaporates).

“Shh,” you whisper, mouthing across his jaw. “We have to be quiet.” But you make it hard for him (pun intended), holding your thumb on his throbbing slit, breaking his pre-cum into uneven globs down the sides. “Everyone keeps interrupting us, baby," you pout.

You take your hand off his dick and bring it to your mouths. He watches you, intently, lick your palm, pink tongue peeping just above the web in your hand, and he falls – not literally. Jisung bends in half, lowering himself to your boobs, silently thanking your heels, which have his name branded on the bottom. He kisses the highest part on your dress, halfway down your chest, then slides the straps down your pretty arms. You repeat his name, verbally – his proper name, after he takes a nipple in his mouth, tongue flat against it, massaging the entire areola. He sucks lightly, hollowing his cheeks, bobbing up and down, opposite hand enveloping under your unattended tit, but he’s too big, as is everything about it, and his palm rests on your ribs. His thumb and index finger pinch repeatedly, automatically, increasing hardness each time a digit swipes over your nipple. You have to bite your hand to stop from moaning too loud.

“Jwiseong,” you stammer, accented by the muffle.

You edge a little closer to him, pushing the shelf into his lower back, and he yelps. But it comes out as groan, vibrations making you match him. Jisung stands up fully again, taking a wide step on the outside of your thighs. He grabs you by the face, kissing you in the way he has been all weekend, a hand behind your neck and another supporting you by the ass, this time dipping you toward the ground. His cock flops completely out the fly of his pants, balls still trapped behind the slit in his boxers. The heavy air hits the veins in his dick first before it rubs against your inner thighs, and you squeeze them around him, both of you groaning, your skimpy underwear adding friction for both of you. Jisung moans your name, accidentally biting your bottom lip. But you say nothing, instead wrapping your arms around his neck, doing your best to slide his cock between your thighs. And he grunts. He can feel his cock pulsing to release.

“Jisung,” you mumble more coherently, “Jisung, Jisung,” you half-chant between kisses, but every time you open your mouth, he slips his tongue in farther, twisting inside your mouth, licking behind your teeth, goading your tongue inside his mouth to suck on. Your panties twist at the crotch, like a substitute thong, and his long cock, ridges and all, rubs your clit to ass and back again. “Jisung,” you moan again. “Jisung, you can’t cum – you can’t – oh, my God, Jisung,” you whisper-shout, forcing him to kiss you harder. He can’t cum on your clothes.

“I know,” he mumbles, giving your tongue one last suck before he pulls back, sitting on the same half-empty shelf, you back on his lap/ish. He lightly fingers away the hairs curtaining the front of your face, tucking the thicker ones behind your ear. “I know,” he repeats. You’ve given him thigh jobs before, humping between his legs, which landed cum on your ass, and letting him hit doggy style, which landed cum on your stomach. So, here, in the random supply closet, it – his cum – would ruin both of your outfits, something you wouldn’t be able to explain on your goodbye rounds. And he cums so much (it was embarrassing the first time, then he found out how much you liked it). Jisung glances at his cock, shortly, jumping between it and your face. He steadies his breathing and takes off his jacket; he undoes more buttons down his pecs and rolls up his sleeves. “It’s so … hot in here,” he justifies.

You nod, pulling at your dress. And he sees it – the wrinkles in the skirt, the slit pushed toward your strapless bra, your panties even tinier.

“You can cum in my mouth,” you whisper thickly, “so – so you don’t stain your tux.”

“We could just go back to our hotel,” he offers instead, really feeling the need to cum elsewhere.

“You’re fine walking out with this –“ You slide your hand down his penis, fingers not entirely touching despite getting tighter at the base. “– poking everyone in the eye?”

“N-no, yeah, you’re right. Please let me cu-cum down your throat.”

You rearrange your dress comfortably folded beneath your knees, hit jacket adding extra padding. Jisung sucks in a breath, then even more when you swallow the entirely of his dick, or whatever you can, stuttering halfway down. It seems he got bigger, all his cum girthing at the tip, waiting to flood. You skip the foreplay, the teasing, immediately hollowing your cheeks around the bit you can get in your mouth without destroying your esophagus (again, you still have to say your goodbyes), but he still grips the shelf behind him, knuckles turning white. Jisung bites his lip, forcing himself to keep his eyes open, to watch his sexy, sexy girlfriend blow him, so that he cums fast. In almost any other scenario, it would be embarrassing how fast he cums, especially with how much volume he expels, but you make it so difficult not to overflow the crevices of your mouth. You press your tongue under his cock, sucking in your lip over your top row of teeth, feeding his cock down your throat, and massaging the half you can’t take. He feels a vein scrape the corner of your mouth and twitches forward, pushing more dick inside. Your eyes water a little bit, lashes blinking them away, so he takes over, slowly thrusting his cock to gauge how much teeth with graze it on the drawback. Once he finds the perfect length, he sets a faster pace, squeezing cute little dimples in his ass until he grunts erratically, incredibly close to cumming.

“Almost there,” he whimpers. He knows that he sounds frustrated, but it’s not at you, never at you. He just wants to make love to you in your hotel room right now. “So close,” he pleads, again not at you, more at himself.

You pull off his cock and open your mouth wide, as circular as possible, and he grabs his dick back, rubbing your spit and cum and his pre-cum up his length, pointing the tip inside your mouth. The first rope shoots down your throat perfectly, then the next rope lands on your tongue. It keeps sputtering out this way, like a spray bottle, until it doesn’t, and his cum clings to his cock, dribbling down his veins, prompting you to lick him clean.

And you make eye contact the entire time, which makes his cock twitch. After you finally finish cleaning him off, you stand up and show him all the collected cum in your mouth, holding your tongue still like a cup. Jisung grabs your neck, holding your pliant head as you swallow what you can, in two breathy gulps. He wipes a little excess bubble from the corner of your mouth to inside, then presses a kiss on your neck, squeezing your collarbone, tighter with his thumb.

“Mmm,” he grunts. “My turn.”

Jisung sinks to his knees, pushing your hips against the shelf. He slides your skirt to the side, making a bigger slit for him to get under, and raises your leg over his shoulder. Slowly, your fingers tread into his hair, pulling at the top. He falls forward, closer to your wet pussy, lips ghosting a breath on labia. Jisung tilts his head to the side and wraps his tongue around the crotch of your panties, a teasing excuse to pull them out, to give him better access, his wide tongue swiping your skin briefly.

“Jisung,” you whine, shaking your butt on the shelf. “Hurry.”

He laughs. “Shh, no one can know we’re in here.”

Jisung pushes his middle finger inside your cunt, gradually making the interphalangeal creases disappear, moaning when you do. Outside, he kisses your vulva, jaw coming up, raising his tongue to your clit. He flicks it with his entire tongue, desperately sucking the little knob between his lips. You tug his hair again, and he swears that his dick twitches – not a good sign, so he works faster, adding a second finger. He sucks again and again, releasing your labia with suctioned gasps, working his nimble digits knuckle-deep repeatedly. In, out, in, out, halfway in, out, all the way in, out, in again.

His knuckles hit your pussy harder and harder, confining him to the small space as your leg wraps around both of his shoulders rigidly, his hot breath sighing back in his face. Jisung hums again on your clit before sucking harsher, lips biting every time his mouth turns into the flat part of his tongue to the tip to nothing, then back again. When he feels your feathery walls squeeze his fingers, he adds a third, despite the taut stretch. He presses all three to the roof of your vagina and curls, flexes each one in different directions, tickling that spongy little spot if two happen to land on it simultaneously. Your legs stiffen and shake side-to-side, but he keeps going, goes faster, not slowing down.

Until you relax.

Your legs go numb, and you almost fall off the supply shelf, so he holds you up, still licking your vulva clean as you cum and cum and cum across his lips.

It takes you pulling his hair again to stop him. And Jisung stands up, breathing just as heavily. He hugs you closely, around your waist, and you bring your hands to his arm. Both of you stabilize your breaths to each other.

You move first, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “We should go say bye to everyone.”

Jisung nods, blindly, not fully coherent enough to process the suggestion. He is trying to lengthen his refractory period, make his partially hard cock go back down. You’re so sexy, too sexy right now, and he desperately needs a bed to make love to you.

“So we can get back to the hotel,” you clarify, voice light.

And suddenly, Jisung is halfway through tugging on his jacket and ordering an Uber.

It takes every nerve, every ounce of self-control for Jisung to make it through goodbye rounds.

The first thing you did, before the rounds, other than sanitize your hands or fix your outfits, was drink water and pop a breath mint from the dessert table, then he kissed you quick, mumbling some random excuse about a mouth check, which turned into a five minute make out session halfway out the door that Jaemin commented on, on his way out. Even one of the groom’s cousins mentioned how he – Jisung – is always touching you, always has a hand attached to you, despite not even really liking to share food.

Chenle, he thinks, was the sole person to explicitly say something, catching onto Jisung’s mismatched buttons and your new ponytail, frizzy curls hanging loose. Jisung prayed his hands together, begging his best friend not to say anything. So he didn’t. But Jisung knew that he would hear all about it on Monday, from everyone in his friend group.

Jisung could only get through two or three more conversations, suddenly feeling like a kid trying to leave the Chuseok dinner, before his cock (which never fully went down, by the way) started straining his pants again, the idea of getting you in his bed as the single motivator to leave as soon as possible. He ended up pushing you, by the waist, in front of his crotch to protect his decency, no longer carrying his jacket because you wear it, because Chenle pointed out some discoloration, another bump low on your neck. You spoke for him, lying to all the aunties that he drank too much or danced too hard. They believed you, especially after he giggled into your shoulder, snapping his body in half to lean on you. It hurt his ego that they believed you so easily, but he’ll deal with all those feelings later. Everything else drowns into white noise, going in on ear and out the other, almost forcibly removed by the horny hormones his hypothalamus orders.

Also, he really wanted to avoid clean up duty. His hands need to be clean for post-nuptial activities, you know.

You have to know by the time he gets you in the elevator to your hotel room, your shared hotel room. He backs you into a corner under the camera, at the blind spot. You look up at him, wide-eyed, gasping when he rubs his thigh between your legs. He grunts, deeply, softly, and kisses you quiet. And he thinks, there have been way too many situations this whole weekend where you were required to be silent. But still, you moan and raise your arms around his neck (and he hopes that the security cameras are old and have no sound). Then, in his next move, your elbow accidentally hits an extra button.

“Are you sure about this?” Jisung breathes as the doors open to the third floor. Your room is on the seventh.

“Yes, of course.” You frown, brushing your hair through the middle, resting your arm on his broad shoulder. “Why?”

He scrunches his nose. “Just making sure you’re not looking for a way out or anything.” He tilts his head to the going up sign, and you hit his arm.

“I told you not to make fun of me,” you pout.

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, then kisses you again.

And he doesn’t stop kissing you all the way to your room. Just changes the location. You stumble out of the elevator, tripping on your dress as you pull away from him, and he catches your hand, giving your knuckles a princely tap. He pushes you on another wall, hissing – because he dick points toward the ceiling and, every time he presses up against you, it bends to meet you, practically drawn to your pussy – hissing something about wanting you so bad, right now, just another reiteration. He doesn’t know what else to say. Most of the time, you just moan into each other’s mouths, just mash your lips together, trying to keep quiet, so his dirty talk skills are … lacking. He just hopes that he makes up for it with body language.

Jisung kisses and hisses all the way back to your room, both of you knocking into the furniture. “Sorry, I just need you right now,” he keeps saying, excusing the way he practically rams you against the closed door to your bedroom. He protected you from sharp corners and your head from the impact, but he just hurts his hand. Jisung inhales. His hands cup your face like flower petals, bringing you taller, even more on your tippy toes. You steady him by his shoulders, relaxing your jaw, accepting his tongue, and he kisses you chastely, thumbs rubbing into the apples of your cheeks.

And he’s the first one to pull away. Well, you can’t exactly open the door without making the both of you collapse, neither of you balanced correctly on your feet. You’d crash to the floor in an instant.

“I love you.”

Your lips twitch at the corners, curving up your smile wider than it already is. “I love you, too.”

Jisung remembers when he had a crush on you like three years ago. He doesn’t remember when his feelings started, but based on the way everyone teases him, you included sometimes (if you’re not kissing him appreciatively), he’s always had them, from the moment he laid eyes on you reading at the café . And this feels a lot like that – the-the fluttering in his empty stomach, the tingling and hyper-awareness of his limbs, the rush to say anything, just to see what makes you laugh or what makes you stay. He even doodles little hearts in your cheeks with his thumbpads.

“I –“ he swallows. “I –“

“Jisung?” you interrupt, breath shaking out your nose, “Can we have sex now?”

“God, yes.”

Jisung kisses you again, having regained some balance in the beat. He thrashes a hand behind you, fumbling for the door knob, and when he gets it open, he dips you back again, walking you inside the room, supporting you mostly by the ass, hanging you around his neck like jewellery; he should really buy you a new couple ring later. Honestly, he’s mostly surprised by his – and your – breath control and not his core strength (that is what the gym is for!), never getting winded between all the kisses or tongues or teeth. And you – God, you – keep leaning backward, hauling all his 180 centimeters toward the bed, making him more and more impressed by your commitment to zero space for Jesus. You suck his bottom lip inside your mouth, sealing your top lip inside his, and he whimpers, knees buckling again, so he lifts you up and pushes you on the bed, kicking away the stupid bench that slows him down.

“I’m gonna eat you out,” Jisung decides, towering over you.

“Ugh, no,” you whine, squirming the bed into another mess of sheets.

“No?”

“Jisung, I need you to please, please fuck me now, cock inside. We did all the foreplay already, and – and I’m ready, I promise. I want you so bad. You’re so sexy. I –“

He returns his lips to yours, this time softer, sweeter, slower, cutting you off, this time, before you ramble yourself into oblivion (before he has the chance to take you there himself). And you relax again, shoulders slumping into the mattress as he crawls over you, showering you with attention from lips to feet. Jisung builds up his momentum again while you gradually undress, starting with his blazer, pulling one arm out, then the other, redirecting your hands down to his waistband again, starting with the zipper. You creep your nails over the tip of his cock, and he thrusts upward, pushing your hand into a claw around the girth, fucking your hand a few times. His length is too big, you both know, so it bounces over your stomach, almost like a premonition for how deep he’ll go. Jisung tries to get more comfortable, but he slips on your silky dress, the skirt flailing out to the side. The way he falls moves you on your obliques, and he brushes your hair behind your ear, away from your neck. You throw your leg over his, tangling your limbs lackadaisically.

“I – my – it’s too big.”

“A huh,” you nod all the way through your chest, toppling him, straddling one of his thighs. “I know. It’s hot.” You don’t grind him (much to his disappointment), because he is still wearing his tux and your panties are just way too thin and wet at this point (he hopes), but if you ask, and maybe even if you didn’t, he would make this the designated sex suit and fuck you in it whenever he wears it, regardless of the function (actually, there’s a charity gala coming up, when he has to wear this ensemble again). But he wants the intimacy of closeness, of vulnerability, of nakedness this first time.

“No, I just,” Jisung whines, “I need to prep you before you can take it – t-take me.”

You inhale sharply, and he feels it. He trails his eyes up, wide, to meet you, staring at your face, noses touching. Jisung waits for your answer; he knows that you want this too, so he gives you both a moment to collect yourselves, mentally preparing himself, too, for the next step. And a beat passes. Then, he unzips your dress at the back; it’s not long, the zipper, so he doesn’t have to wait even more, but the drag slows time and you squeeze his biceps, encouraging him to go faster. He slides the entire material off you, stripping you down to just your panties. When he goes to do the same for himself, standing at edge of the bed, you kneel, still shorter than him, on the blankets, and do it for him. You start with the tie, slowly loosening it side-to-side. It pulls him forward, and he braces himself on your hips, fingers twisting in the waistband of your panties. You get shirt and under-shirt off quickly, but stop at his pants, the top button already undone and fly down.

“Is – is something wrong?”

“I really want to suck you off again,” you confess, jumping from his dick to his eyes.

Jisung pecks your lips. “You can do it later. We have all night.”

“Yeah, okay, yeah,” you nod, kissing him languidly, leaving him to take off his pants.

“Turn around,” he mumbles on your lips. And this time, you comply, standing on your hands and knees, all fours. Jisung copies you, kneeling eye level with your pretty, glistening lips. He grabs your ass first, in both hands, pulling your vulva apart, panty crotch to the side, two fingers each, middle digits dipping inside, just an interphalangeal crease deep. “Don’t cum yet.”

“Jisung, ple –“ You squeal, falling on your forearms, when he cautiously licks outside, around his fingers, up your slit, and you shudder an exhale. “What h-happened to prep-ping me?” you stutter and whine. “You’ll feel so good inside me, Jisung – ah.”

Jisung drags his thumb down the line of your makeshift thong, rubbing round your asshole tentatively before slipping two long and flexible fingers knuckle deep inside your cunt. His other hand pushes your cheek into the pillow, giving you a head rest, making you ass pop up. And slowly, he draws his fingers out, then pushes them back in three-quarters of the way. He does it again, pulling out, extracting your moan, and pushing in, all the way this time. Jisung sets that steady pace, slow and controlled, and he kisses your ass, leaving a bite mark. It makes you yelp, and you squeeze your pussy, accidentally pulling off. You grind back down, meeting his rough knuckles. And soon, he’s finger fucking you harder, with three fingers, and you’re bouncing on his hand, your panties hooked on his thumb.

“Ah, Jisung, fuck, Park Jisung, that feels so good.”

Blindly, he finds his cock and holds it by the base, squeezing his hand like a cock ring to keep from cumming without you.

“I think,” he pants, “I think I need to fuck you now.”

You nod, enthusiastically, turning on your back. “How do you –”

“Missionary,” Jisung answers too fast, already dragging you into position. “I want to see your pretty face.” He hovers his cock above your pussy, between your plushy thighs, hand around the top. The thrusts once, heavy tip dipping to your stomach, that bulging premonition hitting him all over again. His knuckles rasp, kneading your folds, rolling your clit in the wetness, and your knees fall in, so he has to spread them again. “What if it’s too big?” he wonders out loud, shifting his cock to your entrance.

“I can take it,” you promise, bobbing your head. “I can take it, plea –“

He cuts you off with a firm kiss, smashing his lips ungracefully on yours, and slips the first quarter inside you. The kiss is less to muffle you, since neither of you have to be so quiet right now, more to share this intimacy with you. He adds another inch, shallowly thrusting to get his dick wet.

“Ah, you’re so tight,” he hisses. “I could fuck you like this.”

He thought he prepped you enough, but halfway deep, his cock already hits an impasse, so he tries something that he saw in a porno. Jisung moves your right leg over your leg, giving him access to your ass, jiggling your boobs. The motion pulls his cock out a little, and he pushes it back in, pushes more in, making you both groan.

“Full, so full, Jisung.”

“Oh, God, I’m going to cum if you keep talking.”

You grind your hips down. “You should.”

“I’m not wearing a condom,” he reminds you, gritting his teeth. You pull your ass, showing off the way you take him so well, and he rips your panties, exerting his lack of self-control elsewhere. He throws the tiny material at the wall and falls on your lips, repeating, “I’m not wearing a condom, and I – I cum so much.”

“I know. It's hot, you're so -” you moan, fucking yourself on his dick, slapping his thighs, taking him completely. “F-fill me up, Jisung. I want all of you.”

“I want – I want you, too,” he stutters, brain struggling to multitask between answering you and fucking you.

So, he pushes his palms into the mattress, squelching the rest of his dick inside your pussy, basking in your moans. You boobs bounce circularly every time he bottoms out, and he doesn’t know where to look – your cunt sucks him in, contracting around him without reprieve; your nipples taunt him, showing him something to bite and lick and suck; your lips part perfectly for him to shove his tongue down your throat, expelling a series of staccato moans mixed in with his name. Jisung settles for your collarbone, burying himself in the scent of his cologne marking your skin from earlier. His lips bite the bone, groans getting louder and louder.

“God.” He clutches your knees, dragging you so close. “Is this – is this okay?” he asks, despite not letting up, going faster actually, driving you higher up the bed, making him climb even more on you, chasing you.

“Yes, yes, please don’t stop,” you cry. “I’m gonna cum, Jisung, I’m gonna cum.” And you choke on your words, babbling incoherently, talkin’ nonsense.

“Come on, baby, you can cum,” Jisung encourages you. He stands up straight, thrusting in, and in, and in, bottoming out. He holds his cock fully sheathed, deep, circling his hips over your labia, naked thigh sliding up and down your clit. You claw his arm, dropping into his hand, and he intertwines your fingers. You squeeze his hand, and your pussy clenches on his cock. Everything starts choking him, and he loses his breath, inhaling and inhaling, mouthing at your neck.

Then, you cum, back deflating into the bed, lulling pliantly in his hands, toes releasing the tension.

Jisung picks up his pace, brutalizing your cunt, and you whine and squirm, moaning. He feels the veins in his cock catch more prominently in your pussy, like you don’t want to let him go, so he just keeps pushing and pushing and pushing, your canal practically wringing him dry, and he cums too. Thick ropes control the way his cock jumps inside your uterus, bouncing on your spongey, little G-spot before more spills out, forcing him to remove himself. He planks above you, head hanging low, sweat matting down his hair.

You raise both your hands, brushing it back to see him better, and you prop yourself on your elbows, raising yourself high enough to kiss him, slowly but deeply.

Jisung sighs dreamily, flopping down next to you on his oblique. He tilts your chin up at him.

“You,” he starts, pecking you quickly, “are so perfect.”

“Then,” you giggle, taking his left hand. You run your thumb and index finger down his ring finger. “Will you marry me, Park Jisung?"

[yorutsuki]

「 ✦ Unexpected Traveler Pt. 3 ✦ 」

{FINALE}

↳ You were once a world traveler alongside the twins—one being your lover...but that was until you had disappeared from their side not too long before their run in with the heavenly principles. So...what a coincidence would it be if a certain unexpected traveler showed up.

Tags:

──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────

You guided the traveler towards the outer rim of Fontaine, where the concrete met the pearly waters below.

"We might need to get wet for this." You sighed, turning towards him. "Do you trust me?"

Aether stared at you softly, nodding. "Always."

With that one word, you jumped into the waters, pulling Aether along with you.

You guided him below the sea—the land below glistening with the sun's setting light. You passed a variety of corals and fish until you reached a dead end—it was a round seal, words of scripture and marks engraved around it. What was unique about it was the key shaped hole in the center, engravings surrounding it.

Aether looked at you for context though only received a winked from you before you looked around and had let go of his hand. Confused, he watched as your figure went towards the gate, pulling out a glowing key from your inventory and inserting it into the key hole within the seal.

His eyes widened as the marked gate slowly rose up. You signaled him to follow you which he obliged as both of you crossed the gate.

As soon as the two of you made it to the other side, the water suddenly dropped.

"{Y/N}!?" Aether shouted, as he fell towards the waters below.

He looked around as he submerged into the waters, trying to locate for any clues of your being though jolted as he felt a hand connect with his, pulling him up wards.

Both you and Aether gasped for breath as you reached the surface, the blonde traveler checking up on you quickly after.

"Are you okay? You're not hurt right?" He inspected your face, worriedly. You chuckled and shook your head. "I'm fine, don't worry." You gave a reassuring smile before guiding him to the shore.

Once both of you had made it out from the pond, you took ahold of Aether's hand before making your way towards a passage way. "We're almost there, it's just around this corner."

As the two of you turned the corner, Aether squinted his eyes from the blinding lights illuminating in front of him, but when the affects wore off, he was flabbergasted.

The scenery in front of him was a sight to behold, it was beautiful. It was much like a conservatory or dome but underwater.

The platform was a marble concrete mixed, in the center was a fairly large round gazebo with small staircases leading up to it. The gazebo were structured with roman-styled pillars on the side, on top a glass roofing. Around the gazebo, was glass flooring that connected to a glass-like pathway towards the entrance.

Towards the side of the entrance where both of you stood, was a small waterfall pond that held a few koi fish. Over in the same center on top of the glass flooring was a beautiful concrete dining set up, the furniture engraved with seals and designs.

To finish the small set up were the humongous pillars, engraved and embroidered with crests and designs that seem to hold up the dome itself. And finally, the outside waters. You had a very beautiful and clear view of the ocean life dwelling under the surface every one and awhile.

"I-..This is.." He was at a loss for words. "Where did you find this place..?" He asked, entering the underwater garden scape, touring around.

"Well, Furi-Focalors crafted and gifted me this place. This was and still is the spot where we usually go to escape our busy lived when we have the chance." You explained, before making your way towards a certain area.

His eyes trailed your figure as he followed behind, watching as you made your way towards a small lounging corner with a conversation pit—small pillars surrounding it.

Sitting down on the comfortable cushions, you signaled for Aether to join you which he oblidged.

A comfortable silence washed over the two of you as you watched the marine animals swim across the dome.

Your lips softly curled upwards, your expression faltering.

"Aether..I want to say..if you're not ready or comfortable to go back to how things were once before. I can completely understand...It's been quite a while since we saw each other and.."

You sighed as you started to doubt everything.

"I do believe you need to look for your sister, yes? That would mean you would need to carry on with your journey...and-" You spoke, your tone light yet heavy. "-I wouldn't be able to join you."

Aether's brows furrowed in thought. Time seemed to be stilled with a heavy atmosphere.

"You're right..I need to carry on my journey to find her..Not just for myself but for the both of us—so we could all be reunited once again." He started, but shook his head. "But we need not to worry about that in this moment. All we can do is wait and see what is ahead of us." Aether stated, taking your head in yours with a comforting smile.

"As for your first question, though it may be a bit weird, i'm comfortable with whatever your choice is. But..I do have one request."

You cocked your head to the side, "What is it?"

"Could I..hold you again?" He mumbled turning his head away in embarrassment.

Your eyes widened in surprised but quickly relaxed before making your way towards him as you wrapped your arms around his torso.

Aether tensed at the new found weight and touch, but quickly relaxed as it was you. He didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you in a comforting embrace.

"Archons I love you..."

You smiled, "I love you too."

.....

A/N: Dw, Paimon is left with Furina for a bit....maybe..

Anyways, I hope this wasn't too cheesy or anything. But yeah! Final episode of this mini series is done!!

{ <- Previous Part }

.....

[ Masterlist ]

[lizzisimss]

Gonzales Family Home

CC used (list below) Garden Essence in Willow Creek 40 x 30 8 bed, 3 bath $276,606

This build is part of the Lizzisimss Save File.

Aira – https://www.patreon.com/airacc

Birdie lamp

Frog incense

Froggy cushion

Ghibli clay 2

Ghibli painting

Heart night lamp

Mushroom plant

Tablet PC

Toast light

Vanilla flower candle

Vanilla recipe book

Woodenland bear holder

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Kitchenrack condiments

Kitchenrack utsensils

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The trouble with plants

Whatever you want

Steezy Skis

Heavy Metal Shelf

Clean sweep

Laundry Made Essentials

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The Lighthouse Collection merged

Diaper days

Dinna merged

Lavish Merged

M & S Constructions part I merged

Miscellanea Merged

Modish Merged

Munch merged

Smol merged

Soak merged

Tarot posters simblreen treat 1 2020

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Fayun part 2 and 2

Georgian set

Gothic revival interior

London exterior

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KERV

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Orjanic

Bafroom

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Baysic Merged

Harluxe Merged

Jardane

Livin’Rum Merged

The Kichen

Tiny Twavellers Merged

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Brownstone collection complete merged

Brownstone collection part 1 & 2 merged

Brutalist bathroom

Country collection

Octave part 1, 3 and 4 merged

Porto

Shop the look

Spoons part 1

Stockholm

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Blockhouse

Piha

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Citrus Room

KARLSTAD kitchen

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2202 Magnolia Bathroom

Aubrey office

Basil chair

Botanic boudoir

Calliope bathroom

Devon kitchen

Floret grove

Heirloom kitchen

Ivy hallway

Keller bedroom

Little ceramics

Old hat

Simblreen 2021

Starlight crystals

Sunbeam study

Sunny corner

Twee tablewar

Winter village

Patron gift 1, 2, 5 and 7

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Folklore set off the grid

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Record Player

I want to believe poster

Twinkly lights

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Deligracy merged cottage living update

Countryside cabin merged

Eco kitchen stuff pack merged

Greasy goods merged

Lava lamp merged

Modern rocking chair

Sleek slumber stuff pack merged

Roman holiday merged

Sweet treats merged

Deligracy delicato stuff pack

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Lucky Man Folded Shirts Override

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Kei first aid

Kei plushie

Brizo soap dispenser

Lorens painting

Numi backpack decor

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KC Salt & Pepper

Upcycle books

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Master bedroom

Child dream kit

Classic kitchen

Garden at Home

Poolside lounge

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Back to School Calendar

Bathroom set

Cyber girl

Desk planner

Essential Clutter

Groovy baby

Wiccan set

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Pufferhead

Computer emook

Computer mookbook

Deco deskop globe

Mycupofcc –

Colour talk dining stuff

Colour talk kitchen merged

Colour talk livingrm merged

Maple manor the modernist collection living rm

August 2021

Tiny dreamers merged

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Garden stories

Nora living

Riikka

The art room

Zephyr office

Arrie office

Daria bedroom

Dawn abstract

Dawn living

Gale dining

Lottie décor

Moonwood garden

Simmify instant camera

Herbalist kitchen

Simmify part 2

Vanity nook

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Max brick floor

Veronique wallpaper

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Artist’s old workroom

Kitchen peg board shelf long

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Atwood Living

Cozy knits bedding

Creta kitchen

Elsie bedroom

Essa kitchen

Futura merged

Hamptons retreat merged

Hinterlands bedroom

Hinterlands living

Hudson bathroom

Kitayama dining merged

Kitayama living merged

Mid-century eclectic merged

Mina kitchen merged

Moku seating

Phoebe sofa suite

Roarsome kids bedroom merged

Seasons build mode expanded

Strangeville build mod add on

Vara office

Bowed

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Calderone bedroom

MCM part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 and part 5 merged

Oakhouse part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 merged

The office mini kit

Tidying up

Auntie vera bathroom merged

Coldbrew coffeeshop

Domaine du clos part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 merged

Living room mini kit

Winter garden part 2

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8 pack holiday penguin

19 pack cute cookies

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Art attack

Smarts content

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Art van gogh

Chinoiserie round rug

Cottage roman curtain

Crafter shelf

RH bottom bunk

RHshadeB

RHshadeC

RH wall art square DH

Round jute rugs

Rustic rug

Taisho merged all

Vintage country art llb

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Breeze of Greece

Oak&Concrete Kit merged

Artiu

Artz

Home basics

Home Improvement

Home office

Hotel bedroom

Kids room

Luxbath

Retro vibes

Small Spaces

Teen Room

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Iconic album art

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KoT Build Floor Lino V4

Fallout baby

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Bonbon

Galileo

Julie

Laundry

Nathalie

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Cassandra Bathroom

Dina Dining Room

Eliza Walk In Closet

Elsa Kids Room

Jade Build

Lilith Chilling Areas p1 merged

Clutter Cat - https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/thec...

Busy bee 2

Busy bee

Cozy cocina

KawaiiKidz

MellowMini

MellowMoods

PetitsPirates

Xfest22

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2nd wave mergedpat

Beam parte2 v01 mergd

Cross merged

Ema dining room v02 merged

Wave merged

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Apartment therapy inspired stuff v2 merged

Blooming rooms plants merged

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