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“We should have sex,” Wei Wuxian declares over dinner.
Jiang Cheng looks up from his noodles, his mouth too full to speak for a moment. He takes in her expression—she’s watching him with an open, almost pleasantly casual face.
Yeah, she’s definitely up to something, and if he had any sense, he would drill her about it a bit more before saying yes. There’s been far too many times that she’s gotten him into completely avoidable messes.
But Jiang Cheng was actually going to ask if she was interested tonight anyway. Maybe he’s up to something too.
Shrugging, he swallows his bite. “Sure,” he replies, just as casually.
“Like right after dinner,” she says.
“Alright.”
She bites her lip, staring at him, challenging him. “Or maybe on the table.”
“Whatever you want,” he says. It’s shameless and his mother must be rolling in her grave for it, but he would gladly fuck her all over Lotus Pier. They’ve defiled much of it already, what’s one more round on the dinner table? “Keep eating, the cooks made this just for you.”
She makes a face at him, but does dig back into her meal. She’s dressed down in her old disciple robes—the purple ones he got her after the war ended. There were no guests today, nothing they had to worry about, so she must’ve gone to teach the new recruits before they met for dinner.
In her closet, she has a whole wardrobe of fancier robes, made of more delicate fabrics and lighter colors. They’re befitting of a furen, but it’s clear she prefers clothes she can move around in. She only wears the nicer stuff when they’re visited by other sects or have to go to cultivation conferences, which suits him just fine—
—except for how she sometimes acts like she doesn’t deserve those nice clothes.
He keeps eating too, trying to finish quickly. Her request has jump started the plan he’s been thinking about for weeks now, and the more he considers it, the more restless he feels.
It’s the sort of plan she would come up with, something underhanded and sneaky. But he’s sure it’ll work all the same.
Jiang Cheng is certain that Wei Wuxian thinks she doesn’t deserve to be his wife. He’s asked a few times, not in so many words, but discretely— do you want to stay here? Is it still true you want to be by my side?
She smiled and told him of course she did! She’d never leave, how could he imply otherwise? But he knows her too well and he could see her smiles weren’t as happy, as true as they should’ve been.
Then there were the jokes she sometimes makes. Jokes about his future wife, about what she’ll be like, if she’ll accept Wei Wuxian as his friend or shijie or even as his concubine. For a while, the stupid jokes made him so frustrated , didn’t she understand he didn’t want anyone else?
But a chat with his head disciple made him realize something he should’ve known the whole time. Sometimes you can’t just get through to her with words, you have to act.
So that’s what he’ll do. He’ll act.
After all, if she gets pregnant with his baby, she’ll have to agree to marrying him, won’t she.
As soon as they’re done eating, Wei Wuxian shows him her empty bowl. “All done, see? Happy?”
He sets his bowl aside on the floor, taking hers and setting it down too. Then he leans back, away from the table, and says, “Come here.”
Brushing her hair back, she stands and circles the table, pausing next to him to pull her pants down. They catch around her shoes so he helps her take them off, leaving both boots and the soft, sturdy fabric of her pants in a swiftly-forgotten pile.
“You too,” she says, so he pushes his pants down just enough to free his dick.
Then he pulls her down into his lap.
She’s already wet, soaking for him—and her deft hands go right for him, tugging at his thickening erection. After so long together, she knows just how to get him hard and ready for her in mere seconds. The grip of her palm is familiar but just right; she draws her thumb lightly down the veins, making him shudder.
Both of his hands go down to cup her bare ass, squeezing the supple flesh. She pushes back into him, so he leans forward, nearly crushing her to his chest. With his head in the crook of her neck, he presses kisses to the tendon there, tasting her sweat, her skin.
“A’Cheng,” she gasps when he bites down. Her hands move, guiding the head of his cock to her cunt, dragging him up and down her slit until he’s covered in her slick. “You’ll do anything for me, right?”
“Yes, anything, fuck,” he swears.
“I want you to come inside me,” she whispers, fucking down onto him finally.
They both groan at the heavenly feeling, his cock perfectly sized for her and caught in the vice grip of her cunt. She squeezes around him, slipping down until he’s fully sheathed inside.
“I want you to give me a baby,” she pants in his ear. “Get me pregnant, please, please, A’Cheng—”
Holding her close, he gets to his knees, shuffling forward until she’s laid on her back on the table. It’s just big enough for her head not to fall off the other edge.
Her legs cradle his waist, her hands gripping his arms tightly. Even mostly dressed, still sweaty from earlier with dirt smeared on her cheek and her hair falling out of its ponytail, she’s gorgeous.
“Anything you want,” he repeats, and begins to thrust.