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#I don’t think I actually ship any of these if that matters to you
lover-of-mine · 2 days
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Personally, I like Tommy as a character, and I’m okay with BT for the time being, though I don’t really ship it. The biggest feature Tommy brought to the table this season was to make Buck realize he’s bi. But you could have replaced him with any random guy and I would have been just as happy about it.
My biggest issue is the toxicity from the BT stans. As in, I don’t appreciate being called a homophobe for thinking that the daddy-kink comment was out of place at the dinner date.
Look, we’re all part of the same fandom and if it makes you happy, go smash your Barbie doll’s faces together. Have fun with it. I support you 100%.
But the fact of the matter is that up until now, most of the things relating to Tommy come from head canons and Lou’s cameos. There isn’t much in the source material to go by. Mostly because he didn’t get a lot of screentime, and the writing of the scenes he’s been in, has been questionable. It’s not a very realistic show so why couldn’t they dress Tommy up for the bachelor party? It would have meant the world to Buck. (Oh, but guess who suggested matching outfits because he cares a whole lot about him?)
Yet, people are out here celebrating these two like it’s the most romantic thing since sliced bread. It’s jarring to see, how many people - especially former Buddie stans - jumped ships at the first opportunity they got. I don’t know if it’s a thing of instant gratification of having Buck in a queer relationship canonically or something else, but I don’t like it. The whole thing makes me worry, the show runners will change course to cater to the BT supporters and push for BT endgame. That would be the least satisfying ending to both Buck’s and Eddie’s story.
I will be honest with you, I think most of my dislike of Tommy comes from the way I am being called names because of him all season, it kinda kills a character's chances when the following of them gets so aggressive, he aggravates me more because of the way fandom treats him than because of anything he did this season because he was barely there this season beyond showing Buck he's bi, like you said. The fandom created this version of him and his relationship with Buck that's not backed by canon, because his scenes lack depth and the writers are not helping him at all and the way people flipped is actually disconcerting. Especially with how willing they are to attack everyone who doesn't agree they are the best thing to ever grace their television. But honestly, considering the way that buddie was still very much present and very much displaying the partnership and love they always had, I still think Tommy is a stepping stone that they are dragging out because it gave them better publicity that they were expecting. Buddie was the only thing that was handled carefully in both Buck and Eddie's storylines the whole season, they know the potential they have there, so I will keep the hope that they'll let this story unfold in a satisfying way. And yeah, it would be extremely unsatisfying to see Buck end up with Tommy with the way Buck was constructed and I like to believe they were way too careful with the construction of Buck in the love interest archetype to fumble the pass in the 2 yard line (I know that's not a saying but my brain is in football mode for some reason bear with me) and not give Buck the conclusion of that when they have been building Eddie in the way to fight that archetype by giving Buck someone who just loves him. And because no one they introduce for Eddie is gonna feel as satisfying as Buck with the way they kept playing up the way Buck is Eddie's life partner. And Buck is quite literally the only thing the show is allowing Eddie to keep. It would be unsatisfying to watch them end up with other people and that was very clearly exemplified by the season 6 finale and the way their ending were very 😬😬 yk? I have faith we will get there.
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peppermintslol · 7 months
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Uuuhhh
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I did this as a joke with my friends
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The original meme if anyone wants to use it
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thrilling-oneway · 7 months
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Also shout out to the person who said in the tags of that airi post who said that half the debates in this fandom are over gender or sexuality because that’s true and it pisses me off immensely
#all the debates over whether VBS is gay coded or not and that their fans are biphobic if they don’t like m/f vbs pissed me off enough to#make me leave the fandom one of the times i left it. it’s also the reason I dont really like interacting with the fandom anymore LMAO#the thing is I don’t think it really matters lol#like mizuki is canonically trans but no one else is and I genuinely don’t get why people get so heated when ppl don’t have the same gender#hcs as them like it’s a HC not everyone has the same one as you. obviously this happens with airi a lot but with the boys being hc’d as#tfem as well? like I’ve seen people get SO up in it about them being called boys and it’s like full respect for your HC but#…they canonically are?#sexuality is a bit more complex bc while nothing is canon there definitely ARE things implied and since nothing is canon I don’t think it#really matters what ur HC is but at least be able to recognise what’s in the game? like kohane and minori showing attraction to multiple#girls but never to any guys. or an being canonically interested in kohane romantically or bad dogs being implied soulmates#and like it doesn’t matter what you ship or HC but loads of ppl try to claim this doesn’t exist for the sake of winning internet arguments#which is just So stupid#specifically i see this in the wxs fandom a lot over ppl HCing them as not mspec. especially with rui like ive seen loads of arguments#caused by people pointing out that he is actually gay-coded and then people trying to counter that. usually with shipping as evidence lol#and like sure ship him with emu or nene who cares but the coding is there so maybe don’t pretend it isn’t#this fandom is weird there’s like two sides to it of ‘everyone is bi and if you don’t HC that or like m/f ships ur biphobic’ and then#there’s ‘every character should be exclusively gay and if you disagree ur homophobic’#both of them are wrong#also i doubt clpl gives a shit about any of this#tag ramble over this fandom annoys me
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fingertipsmp3 · 10 months
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Also forgot to mention but I’m like 30 pages away from the end of NtN 😵‍💫
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honeydjarin · 8 months
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BRING ME THE SUN
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OPLA SANJI X READER
You often find yourself in the galley, seeking the company of your favorite chef. Even when your half asleep, Sanji can’t bring himself to turn you away.
genre: fluff
warnings: none
word count: 1,500
a/n: how often can I write about sleeping? It’s what I long for most of all. I wasn’t expecting to fall in love with opla!sanji, but now I can't stop thinking about him!
PART II: (I’LL GIVE YOU THE MOON)
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Your feet carry you over salt-soaked wood, up creaking stairs bordered by sun-warmed railings, before settling in front of the closed door to the galley. You hesitate for only a moment. The evening sun glares off the porthole window and prevents you from peeking into the room beyond, but you know the man you seek is in there. Sanji is almost always in the kitchen now that he has the freedom to experiment with new recipes as he pleases. 
When you first enter the galley, it’s with the intention of keeping the Going Merry’s chef company. Sanji’s easy going nature is addicting. Friendly and flirtatious conversations with him always leave you glowing golden—brighter than the sun. His comfort as he works in the kitchen, his joy for what he does, is contagious. Oftentimes, you find yourself at the door to the galley, having had no plan to walk there. You seek out his company whenever you’re given the chance, consciously or not. 
You hadn’t meant to develop such a large crush on the chef. He wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a crewmate. A friend. You had been wary of the flirt when he joined the Straw Hats. His first impression left you with his self confidence and charm but no glimpse of his care for friends and strangers alike. You never could have expected how easily the newest member would wiggle his way into your heart. 
You take a breath, then step into the room hidden behind the door. 
Sanji is exactly where you expect him to be, flitting around the kitchen as he begins preparations for dinner. When he hears the door open, he turns your way, a smile pulling at his lips as soon as he sees it’s you.
“Hello, darling. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, but he slows, keeping his gaze on you. “Are you hungry?”  
“Not yet. I just wanted to keep you company,” you say, making your way farther into the kitchen. A part of you can’t help but think Sanji must get lonely in the galley after having spent so much time surrounded by others at the Baratie, but he never complains. 
The other part of you worries that Sanji actually prefers the time alone, and that your presence in the kitchen is unwelcomed. The Going Merry isn’t a particularly large ship, and finding a moment to be alone can be difficult. 
“Then today I am a lucky man,” he replies. His smile never falters, eyes gleaming as though he truly does feel lucky to spend time with you. It’s enough to dispel any lingering worries, at least for the time being. 
You warm beneath the weight of his gaze, heartbeat fluttering from the sudden attention. For a moment you forget yourself, too lost in the twin seas trapped in Sanji’s eyes. Your own lips pull into a matching smile and you feel like you’re glowing, just like you always do when he gives you his attention. Sanji’s gaze seems to soften, as if, somehow, he can see the light burning in your chest. 
If you don’t move now, you’ll sink too deeply into this feeling, you’ll get too wrapped up in your not so little crush. 
You take a step forward, then another. Your feet carry you to one of the seats at the counter, keeping the island between you. Sanji’s gaze still washes over you, but at least this way, no matter how tempting it may be, you won’t find yourself reaching out to him. You won’t tangle your fingers between his own, won’t run your spare hand through his hair or cradle the soft curve of his cheek, won’t lean in to kiss his still grinning lips. 
The evening sun filters through the galley windows, gleaming off cookware and pooling on the countertops. Your seat is strategically situated in the center of one of those pools, the hazy light casting a warm beam across your skin. You sink into its embrace, growing more relaxed with each slow breath you take. The warmth is like a hug, and you can’t help but to settle into it. 
You fold your arms on the countertop and rest your chin on them, easing into a comfortable position. You could fall asleep like this. 
Oftentimes, you offer to help Sanji cook, not wanting to be in the galley without at least being useful, but today you seem to be slipping—too relaxed, too tired, content just to watch the chef in his element. You’re only half aware of what he is doing as he works. 
“Here,” Sanji says, setting a glass down in front of you. “Try this.”
Small bubbles rise from the liquid inside, popping as they reach the surface. When you take a sip, it’s cool and saccharine, flavors mixing to create the perfect balance.  
“Oh! It’s good,” you praise before taking another sip. You have to set the glass down, wanting to savor the drink Sanji made just for you. “Everything you make is good.” 
“You’re too sweet to me, darling.” 
His words make you smile, but you keep your attention on the glass in front of you, too afraid that if you look at him he will see in your eyes just how deep your affections lie.
Beads of condensation have already formed on the outside of the glass, making the fizzy liquid inside look almost cloudy. You trail your finger through the moisture on the smooth surface, the cool liquid dripping down your fingertip leaving a clear path behind your touch, a curve into a point. Reflect and repeat. When you pull your hand away, a little heart remains. 
The blonde chef leaves you feeling like a lovesick fool—as sticky sweet as the drink he made you. 
This moment is too easy, too safe. You hardly notice the way your eyelids weigh heavy, each blink lasting longer than the one before it. The sounds of chopping vegetables and boiling water begin to fade, barely noticeable as sleep creeps ever closer.  
“As flattered as I am that you want to keep me company even when you’re so tired, I must insist that you find a more comfortable place to nap. I’ve heard that pain is beauty, but beauty sleep should never cause someone as sweet as you to wake up in pain.” 
If you weren’t already so close to sleep, Sanji’s words might have sent your heart racing. He thinks you’re sweet too. 
“I’ll be fine, Sanji. It’s just a little cat nap,” you offer, only half aware of what you’re saying.  
You don’t hear if he responds. 
—♡—
It’s a chill seeping into your skin that starts to wake you up. The ocean air isn’t really that cold, but the absence of the sun on your skin creates a change in temperature stark enough to make you sigh in disappointment. What once felt like a soft embrace now feels like a missing piece. 
There’s the sound of something being whisked, or stirred, the only evidence you have that you aren’t alone in the galley.  
You stretch your arms out to your sides, groaning slightly at the stiffness in your shoulders. Sanji was right, your body does hurt. You keep your eyes closed as you stretch, desperately clinging to those last moments of sleep as you work out the aches in your muscles.  
“Hmm. It’s cold now,” you mumble. The stirring sound stops. 
The creeping sense of cold doesn’t have long to settle over you. Before you can continue to complain about the movement of the sun, something heavy and warm is draped over your shoulders. The heat of your skin sinks into the fabric before it is reflected back at you, just like the sun. It feels like a blanket. At the very least, it offers the comfort of one. 
You pull the fabric closer around you, feel the curl of a collar around your neck and the holes for sleeves catch on your shoulders—definitely not a blanket. The fabric of Sanji’s jacket is smooth and well made, the quality much better than most of the crew’s clothing.  
What is this made of? You want to ask. Boyfriend material? 
But where flirtation spills naturally from Sanji’s lips, it only ever sounds awkward and stilted from yours. You leave the words unsaid, choosing instead to offer a simple “thank you.” 
“You seemed quite content. It would be a shame for you to grow cold simply because the sun doesn’t understand how much you appreciate it.” 
Finally, you open your eyes. 
Sanji leans on the counter beside you, offering you a soft smile. It’s subdued, as if he himself isn’t even aware he’s doing it. He looks good like this—he always looks good. He looks at ease right now, like he wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Or with anyone else.   
Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but for just a little while, you can almost let yourself believe that he feels the same way about you. Why else would he look at you like that, with such fondness?  
“So you decided to keep me warm instead?” you prod. 
“Of course,” he responds without hesitation. “I can’t bring you the sun, but I can offer you this.”  
Of course. He says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world. As if he couldn’t ever bring himself to consider an alternative. 
You feel warm again, glowing. 
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a/n: I’m planning on writing a second part to this. Hopefully it won’t take too long ^_^
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luffysscraps · 7 months
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Please I have baby fever! I NEED monster trio as dads headcanons. I blame Bluey for this. Thanks in advance 💕🤞🏾
Monster trio as fathers
Ft; Luffy, Zoro, Sanji
Cw; Fem reader. Nothing else just fluff.
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•Luffy
Luffy gets you pregnant by accident. But he’s not worried about it at all, he’s really happy. “We’re having a baby?! That’s so cool!” He’s very excited to be a father but knows little to nothing about it.
You two have a baby girl. And he’s so happy! He doesn’t care much about the gender of the baby. He’ll love his child no matter what. The second she’s out of you and into his hands he holds her up for everyone to see. “Look! Look she’s here!” He shouts while joyful tears fall from his cheeks.
His little girl gets only the best from Luffy. He bathes her, feeds her and changes her all the time. He feeds her a little bit too much, and she has a never ending stomach like her father. She’s almost always hungry resulting in baby chub.
A giggly baby! This girl loves to laugh! She laughs more then anything else and with her jokester of a father she gets more then enough daily giggles. His stretchy skin makes for a great toy! He can pull on his face and make funny faces. Give her a finger to tug and listen to her laugh as it stretches. And even great to chew on. She kinda ends up thinking every human is like that though and tugs on people randomly. And she’s got a lot of strength for a baby (I mean look at who her dad is.) The force of her tug was enough to trip Zoro.
But once she’s old enough to start crawling and waddling, Luffy’s always active with her, chasing her, playing tag with her and playing with her. Her baby chub quickly melts away with him around. She’s so playful, always babbling and tugging on his leg to chase her and Luffy’s always up for the challenge. She has Luffy’s big wide eyes and looks like a carbon copy of her father.
These two are always talking, like always. Even when she literally can’t communicate beyond a few words and the rest is babbles. He will sit there and listen to her for hours on end and respond to everything she’s saying as if she’s actually speaking. He loves hearing her voice, whether it’s her managing to say ‘papa’ or her spitting her tongue out at him.
He takes her everywhere with him. He’s always holding her close to his chest while exploring new towns and villages. Everyone tells him not to bring her into dangerous places but he doesn’t listen. So to calm everyone’s nerves a little bit, Franky makes him a chest baby carrier that’s reinforced with armor. That only ends up making it worse though because now he thinks he can take her exploring with him. Like this man sees no problem in adventuring in a scary, dark forest where man eating predators are everywhere with a baby. He slingshots back to the ship with her in her carrier giggling against his chest and he feels proud of himself. Only for Nami to hit him and tell him how dangerous that was. The only situation he hands her off to you or someone else is when he’s about to engage in a tough battle. He’s confident in his skills and knows he can win but he’s not taking any chances of his sunshine getting hurt.
Given she looks just like her father, (and the fact he practically shoved her in Koby’s and Helmeppo’s faces when their fleet showed up to apprehend them) the navy knows the king of the pirates has a child. They’ve been trying to wipe you off the map for some time now and the same goes for your daughter despite her only being months old. No matter they’re not getting their hands on her. Luffy is serious when anything has to do with his daughter and if the marines think they can pull a fast one on him and kidnap his daughter, He sends their whole fleet to a watery grave. Even taking out every nearby marine base in the area to send a loud and clear message to the marines. ‘Don’t fuck with his daughter.’
When she’s around 5 the two somehow manage to get even closer then before. With her newfound ability to talk and make sense while doing it. They talk for HOURS. About food, games, books, the sky, fishing, everything. He tells her tales of his adventures and how her papa became pirate king. The two are best friends.
In all honesty he wants another one, maybe two, or three if you let him. She brings him back to when he was a kid and he wants her to have siblings like he did. But then he remembers an important lesson that he passes down to his daughter.
Luffy sits on the thousand Sunny’s figurehead. His daughter sitting besides him and wearing her straw hat that he had passed down to her. The little girl carrying the legacy of the king of the pirates without knowing it. They’re both silent but it’s a comfortable silence. He then looks over to her with a soft smile on his lips, bringing a finger up to her cheek and poking her. He laughs and brings her closer to him sitting her down on his lap. Some wisdom from the past remerges while he watches the sunset with his daughter. And suddenly he begins to speak. “Here’s a little secret sunshine, once you share a bottle of sake, you can become siblings with anyone.”
“Really? That’s all it takes?”
“Of course it does! Your papa would never lie to you! So when you find your long lost sibling. Rejoice with them over sake. Alright?”
“Alright papa!” Luffy smiles and looks at the setting sun wondering what the future held for the little girl who had the world in her palms.
•Zoro
“Run that by me again…?” Just like Luffy, Zoro gets you pregnant by accident. It’s not that he’s scared or anything, you’re the only woman he’d want to have a child with. But it’s just that he’s not prepared. It was something he wasn’t expecting.
The two of you have a baby boy. In all honesty that’s what he was hoping for. You swear while you’re recovering from giving birth you heard him give out a small cheer in trumpet when Chopper announced the gender. ‘Did he think this was a challenge?!’ He’s attached the second he holds him. His son melts his heart when he grasps his giant finger with his tiny one.
Although he wasn’t prepared he’s surprisingly good with a child. He changes him, feeds him and bathes him. Bonding over the little moments like washing out his hair for the first time. You swear you saw tears but this man literally forced the tear back into his eye when you pointed it out.
His son is silent baby. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t whine. He only lets out small babbles every now and again when he’s trying to get your attention. You ask Chopper if he’s okay and he’s perfectly healthy. He just doesn’t show a lot of emotion. You can get him to laugh, giggle and smile if you try but on the day to day he is totally silent.
When Zoro has to watch him, he trains with him on top of him. Using his son as a little extra weight. It’s kinda adorable actually. He’s lifting up tons of weight above his head while the baby boy is sucking his thumb in the sling around his chest. He’s acting so tough while doing dead lifts. And every time he comes back down he gives his son a little forehead kiss.
When he begins crawling and waddling Zoro is determined to get him walking. He’s literally the best baby coach, always hyping his son up for the littlest things. “ ‘Atta boy!” “That’s my son!” “Did anyone else see that?! That’s my kid! He came from me!” Like- calm down he just clapped his hands. He supports his son in every little thing and helps him walk for the first time. Again he sucks up his tears and pretends he’s not crying. He’s so proud of the little guy.
He mostly hands him off to you when you guys are on a new island. He knows his son is safe with you, and with you holding carrying the baby he can protect both of you at the same time. Plus he’s known to get lost and one of his worse fears is getting lost with his child. If he’s lost by himself as least he knows you two are both safe. If he got lost with his child he’d be paranoid for his child’s safety. He knows he can protect him from any physical harm but he can’t use three sword style with him near. Plus he’d have to make sure he’s hydrated, and well feed and it’s just a lot of stress on him. It’s better if you have him and stick in groups when exploring.
When he’s finally starting to walk on his own Zoro buys him a small wooden toy sword. And just like his father he’s skilled with a sword. He loves it a lot, he likes to swing it on anything and everything. He often knocks anyone who walks past him on their legs and his favorite victim is Sanji. And Zoro’s just like “Yes, Yes hit him!” You apologize daily to Sanji when you find your son has been beating him up all day. Your son is confused, Papa says yes and mama says no. So to please you both he hits Sanji when his father’s near and doesn’t when you’re nearby.
Once he’s 5 Zoro starts training his little boy. He’s not soft on him at all and respects him as a swordsmen. Although Zoro loved his teacher when he was younger he just had wished he had treated him like he was an equal instead of a child. So he instructs his son as if they are equal. Most think this would cause him to relent his father but your son has Roronoa genes and it just bonds him closer with her father.
Zoro’s sword clashes against the smaller sword as his son’s stance was getting tougher and harder to block. Nonetheless Zoro doesn’t let him win. He smacks the sword out of his hand and makes him yield. “That’s another win-“ Zoro goes to speak but he sees the slight tension in his son’s eyes and immediately bends down to the boy’s height. “What’s troubling ya kid?”
“I just don’t get it. I can defeat pirates twice my size, Marines, almost anyone, but I can’t beat you.” Zoro hears his son’s lament and it reminds him of a familiar feeling he had when he was younger. And before he can speak another word Zoro leans in and hugs him. “So? What does it matter. Maybe one day you’ll beat me, maybe one day you won’t. Maybe one day you’ll beat someone stronger than me… maybe you won’t. And that’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, and if you want to defeat me well it’ll take a lot longer and more practice.” Zoro picks up the green haired boy and holds him in his hands running a hand through his shaggy locks.
“Don’t pressure yourself. Just worry about what you can do today. Tomorrow will always exist.” Zoro says simply and that calms the five year old’s nerves. The male gives him a smile and ruffles his locks before going to leave the crow’s nest. “Alright now let’s find mama.”
•Sanji
Unlike everyone else, Sanji gets you pregnant because you two think you’re ready for a child. Keyword Is think. “Oh my love~ I’ve prepared the strawberries cream cheese and jalapeños you’ve request~!“ You don’t lift a finger during your pregnancy. Sanji does everything for you and forbids you to go exploring or fight during this time. For better or for worse you stay with the Sunny every time it docks. And Sanji prefers to stay with you every time but if he genuinely can’t and needs to help protect the crew he kisses you like it’s his last every single time.
You two have a baby girl and Sanji is ecstatic. He’s going overboard already, buying hundreds of outfits, toys and baby equipment. He bathes her, cleans her, feeds her and if he knew how Sanji would breath for her. You rarely get to see her and she’s YOUR baby. Like Sanji’s practically raising her all by himself. He does her hair, combing her long blonde locks back into two big pigtails. She looks just like her father, even having his ‘curly brows’.
She’s a shy baby. She’s a scaredy cat, and she cries easily. Sanji’s always there to help her feel better. He’s always there to rock her to sleep, and to play with her to stop her from crying. It takes a while for her to get settled with the crew as they all sorta scared her and made her tear up. But Zoro scared her the most for some odd reason. She starts screaming and crying whenever he enters the room and Sanji immediately gets pissed at him. “GET OUT OF HERE MOSS HEAD!” And your daughter is grateful her father’s there to protect her from that scary man.
He sits her down in a high chair nearby while he’s cooking. Making sure to keep her far away from any harm but close enough encase she falls out of the chair. She loves to sing and babble Melodies. She makes the perfect cooking partner. He listens to her sing while he works and hands off little cuts of food to her to taste. “Hmm this taste good?” He’d ask when he hands her a slice carrot. She babbles happily nodding her head while chewing on the carrot slice.
He’s a helicopter parent. He’s always making sure his baby girl is safe. He’s always checking that knifes are put away, and that she can’t play with anything dangerous. Hell he even bubble wraps some baby toys that are too sharp for his likings (calm down babe it’s a plastic fishing rod). He keeps her away from the railings, standing far back and holding her tightly so there’s no chance of her falling in. The worse thing that could possibly happen to him is if she ever gets hurt. Even small bumps or her falling down breaks his self esteem. “I’m a terrible father, how could I have let this happen.” He soothes her pain to the best of his ability but feels so, so terrible he let it happen.
He’s a picture dad. Whoever let this man get his hands on a camera made the biggest mistake of their lives because now they have to deal with him showing them baby pictures of her. Every single second of the day. “Oh! Oh here’s where she spit out her tongue at her food! And here’s her sleepy face! Isn’t she so adorable!” He gushes over her showing them pictures and taking up their life while his daughter is right there staring at them both. He takes pictures of every little moment and makes not just one scrap book, but multiple. On every island he makes sure to stock up on camera film because it’s most likely going to be gone by tomorrow.
Speaking of which when the Sunny is docked on a new island your daughter is with you at all times. Knowing Luffy’s attraction to danger and how he’s one of the strongest he often has to fight. He instructs you to run and hide in the safest place possible with your daughter if danger arises. He trusts you to protect her but when push comes to shove but he rather you both are safe while there’s danger around. And if you’re threatened, or worse. Your daughter is. Sanji will rip anyone who threatens his family apart and with no remorse. Even women. That’s how you know he’s serious.
When she’s 5 Sanji’s even closer with his little one. He buys her anything she asks for! It’s all worth it just to see her smile. (Nami never gives him allowance anymore since he spent millions of berry on a purebred horse rental for her). She’s the sweetest little girl around, and has a soft spot for animals. She wants to become a veterinarian even. And while Sanji knows little to nothing about animal care, he’s still his daughter’s biggest fan and supporter. But his world opened when he found his daughter we crying, he wondered why but then saw the dead squirrel in her palms. She must have snuck it back on the ship and kept it as a pet, but due to Sanji’s sheltering she didn’t know what was going on. He neglected to teach her about death, he thought such scary things and concepts could wait until she was older but it was clear he made a mistake.
“P-papa….” “Oh come here sweetheart…” Sanji engulfs her in a hug and pulls her into his lap while she cries into his chest. “I don’t know why he won’t wake up! I brought him food and water! B-but he hasn’t woken up in two days! I-I don’t know why but I feel sad! W-what’s wrong with Mr. Squirrel?” As his daughter cries and sniffles against him he doesn’t know where to start really. He stammers over his words before he starts. “Honey…Mr. Squirrel is dead…” “He stopped breathing and now he’s not here anymore. No one knows where you go when you die but he’s not with us anymore.”
“O-oh… well can he come back and say goodbye first?”
“I’m sorry sweetie but that’s not possible.”
“Oh well…. Can… can we die too? Is that gonna happen to you one day? And… mama? And me?”
“Yes sweetheart. Everyone dies. But it’s always at the right time, you’ll make memories you’ll never forget and when it’s time for your journey to end. It must meet its end.”
“I don’t want to die.”
“No one does. And if you could live forever I’d find a way for you too. But for now it’s something that happens to everyone and everything. There’s no need to be scared of it. It’s just apart of life. Don’t worry about it now my love, for now we can burry Mr. Squirrel and have a funeral at the next island. Would you like that my dear?”
The air is quite somber as the little girl processes what death is and that she can’t run away from it. Her tears come to a stop and suddenly she doesn’t feel that sad anymore now that she realizes it’s a part of life. “Mmhmm… I’d like that.” She whispers and Sanji smiles at her picking her up and exiting her bedroom. “Now let’s go find a shoebox to put him in until the next island.”
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wri0thesley · 8 months
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lion tamer - jing yuan x reader (12.4k)
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it's taken for granted you'll take the job that nobody else wants, whilst the general is indisposed. you just didn't expect things to turn out like this.
cw: not sfw, minors dni. chubby reader. reader is afab but no gendered terms are used. descriptions of raw meat (animals eating), food, pining, fingering, cunnilingus, coming inside. pet names including little bird, darling, little thing. reader is implied to be shorter than jing yuan.
This was a commissioned work.
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It’s a quiet whisper, at first - gossip among the lower-downs of the Luofu. You hear it on the fringes and the edges, but you dismiss it as really none of your business; you’re already working harder than most everyone else thanks to the small matter of your far shorter lifespan, and you don’t intend to set yourself back by listening to idle gossip. You have other things to concentrate on; the busywork that you’ve been assigned to as a junior (very junior) member of the Seat of Divine Foresight. 
Really, though they call you a ‘non-administrative support specialist’, you know what you really are; a general dogsbody, somebody to pick up all of the pieces that others sweep by. Still; just getting a position here means you’ve outdone most people, and you hold in your heart the idea that you could get even further up this ladder of success if you simply tried hard enough. You’ve heard tell that even some of the long-life species haven’t managed to make it as far as actually working within the Seat itself, so really . . . you can’t help but feel a little proud of yourself. 
Which is why you choose to ignore the swirling rumour about your esteemed Arbiter-General until you’re called into a meeting with Yong Hai himself. 
(The General is sick, the rumours say. The General may not last another day. The General’s laziness has caught up with him, the General may not make it, and what will we all do then--)
“So,” Yong Hai says, all business. “You’ve probably heard about it already.”
There’s a flare of disquiet in your gut; that the gossip and the rumours you’ve been so steadfastly avoiding are true. You don’t know what the Luofu would do with General Jing Yuan; you cannot imagine the ship and the world without him, when he has been such a stolid presence - and the way that the general public will react doesn’t bear thinking about--
“Stop that,” Yong Hai says, with an amused look in his eye even as he fights to keep his mouth in a firm, commanding line. “It’s not as bad as people are saying. The General has simply . . . contracted something that he isn’t bouncing back as quickly from as we’d hoped. We’ve had to send him off to the Alchemy Commission for a few days, just to see if we can work out how to help . . .” The secretary catches himself, clearly remembering he’s talking to someone who amounts to little more than custodial staff. He coughs. “Anyway. It’s left us in a bit of a conundrum, and after some discussion, we think you’re qualified to handle it.”
You tilt your head to the side as you try and think what you could possibly do to assist in this matter.
You’re no healer; you’re no nurse. You can’t help them figure out how to cure the General, you’re not equipped to sit at his bedside and mop his feverish brow (your cheeks go hot and your face burns at the very thought of it). You certainly can’t take over any of Jing Yuan’s actual duties. The idea of you as any kind of military strategist is laughable--
“How can I help, Sir?” You ask, partly because that is what’s expected of you and partly because you really have no idea what use you’ll be in the situation. 
“Ah,” he says, and then he coughs again - he looks into the corner of the room, as if he’s begging someone to help him, and you remember that he and his sister are most often found together. But here, it’s just the two of you, and he has nobody to help him to break whatever news he’s going to break to you. You hope it’s not going to involve cleaning up a sick-room; you’re really not good with that kind of thing--
“We need somebody to tend to his home affairs,” Yong Hai says, eventually. “He . . . Ah, look, I’m going to come out and say it. General Jing Yuan has a penchant for taking in stray animals and the like, and he only even agreed to let himself be looked at on the caveat we had to promise to find someone to look after them.”
You think of the statues of lions that decorate the place, and you feel a trickle of cold sweat down the back of your spine. You hope desperately that the secretary isn’t implying that you’re about to quite literally be fed to the lions--
“Stop looking like that!” He says, exasperated. “All of them are perfectly tame, and you’ll be in no danger. He has a . . . lion that he’s incredibly fond of. Several birds. And . . . ah,” he looks embarrassed again. “He’s informed us he usually leaves out a veritable feast for any other neighbourhood strays on his balcony, and he was very worried that they weren’t going to be properly nourished whilst he was away.”
Finches. You can do that. Neighbourhood strays - cats and dogs, you suppose - are all very well. But the lion . . .
That doesn’t matter. Yong Hai seems to have reached the end of his meeting with you, to his tangible relief. He’s already bustling about his desk and looking longingly towards the closed door. 
“A new schedule’s been drawn up for you and sent to you already,” he says. “All of the relevant information should be in the attachments! Have fun, won’t you? The General is so very fond of his pets, you see--”
Your phone beeps as if it is punctuating his point; the secretary beams at you, and you get the distinct impression you are being told to put your best foot forward and roll with the punches. ‘Get on with it’, as someone without any manners might say. 
“Understood,” you say, and you force yourself to smile and look on the bright side of things even if you’re sure you’re going to have nightmares about being eaten alive by a lion tonight. This is a post that the General wanted filled personally! This is almost as personal as someone can get to the General, actually; it appears you’ll be working in his actual home! It’s a . . . a step up! A stepping stone!
You force yourself to ignore that it is actually very much a case of sticking the lowest ranked person (and someone well-known for taking on as much as they can with cheerful aplomb, due to your fear of ever really saying ‘no’) onto the job that nobody else wants to do. 
“I’ll do my best,” you say, and Yong Hai beams at you even as he gestures for you to go and get to grips with your new role. 
Well. 
You have no other choice then, really, but to Get On With It. 
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You are quite frankly terrified the next day, when you turn up to your newest duty. The documents sent to you had instructed you to pick up raw meat for the lion from the General’s most trusted supplier before you went up to his chambers; apparently, birdseed and cat-and-dog food was kept there, but the lion’s appetite could not so easily be sated. You have to give yourself a pep-talk before all of it; have to convince yourself that running away from this new responsibility would be both awful for your career prospects and terribly cruel.
“Ah,” says the supplier, when you turn up and tremulously hand over your phone so he can see the attachments displayed on the screen giving you this new Meat Power, “So you’re looking after the waifs and strays and Mimi, then?” 
“Mimi?” You ask, your voice tremulous, and he laughs as he hands over two incredibly full buckets of raw meat. It’s a good job you’re not squeamish. 
“That’s the lion,” he says. “The General tried to name her Snow Lion after he realised she wasn’t just going to be a pretty little white housecat, but . . . Mimi fits. You’ll see!”
The concept of Jing Yuan attempting to adopt a pretty little white house cat and being saddled instead with a huge lion, and having to continue to refer to the powerful beast as ‘Mimi’ despite his best efforts, keeps you entertained right up until you’re outside the door to the General’s chambers and you remember that a carnivorous predator awaits you on the other side of it.
“Well,” you say to yourself, hoisting the buckets up and taking a deep breath, “there’s no point delaying the inevitable. If I get eaten today . . .”
And you let the pass-key you’ve been given float against the sensor, until the ornate doors to Jing Yuan’s chambers slowly part and admit you into the Arbiter-General’s inner sanctum. 
The first thing that you’re struck by is how it seems that the General left in a rush. The entire place, whilst not dirty, has an air of untidiness. You hear the cheeping of finches from the first room; excitement that their Master may have finally returned to play with them. You can’t help but feel sorry for them - from what Yong Hai has said, it may be quite a while before Jing Yuan is well enough to return to his home. 
There are touches of the General everywhere, now that you’re looking. Delicate flowers (you’ve heard he likes small, delicate things, and you can’t help the nervous tug at your clothing as you consider just how indelicate you find yourself). Ceramics and porcelain that you fear are so fragile they may shatter even under your gaze. An unfinished game of star chess, a coffee cup left half-drunk . . . That last one could fetch a fine price in the black market. You’ve heard those traders hawking ‘tissues used by Helm Master Yukong’ or even ‘a book enjoyed by General Jing Yuan’s protege!’. 
Before your mind can lead you too far down that dangerous path, though, the lady of the hour appears. 
She’s beautiful. 
You have to stop yourself gasping aloud. Any fears you might have had seem to fall to the wayside, unimportant, compared to the majesty of the lion before you; the pure white fur, the wise face, the mane that fluffs out from her. She’s pure white; lean, but perhaps with a little pouch at the tummy. Not a single snarl or tangle mars her fur, not a single speck of dirt upon her, like the false moon looking down upon the Luofu--
She sees that you’re holding two big buckets and seems to recognise them, because it’s barely a breath before her ears twitch and she pounces like a kitten, seemingly not realising that you are smaller than her owner and she is far larger than the average kitten is. All of the wind is knocked out of you as you cry out her name and are tackled to the ground. 
You find yourself beneath the warmth of her body, a sweet scent emanating from her fur as if the esteemed General regularly bathes and shampoos her. Delighted, she sticks her snout right into one of the buckets. A low, pleased rumble emits from her throat as she works her teeth over the meat--
You reach up, hesitantly, with the one arm that isn’t pinned by the great weight of her. Your fingers hover for a moment, unsure of what to do - is she like a cat? Does she prefer chin scratches or ear scratches?
You settle for a very light pet at the side of her mane, just by her face. Her fur is just as soft as you had thought she would be - a lady who is clearly incredibly spoilt. Well-cared for. You have another flash of a vision of Jing Yuan - combing her mane, tying a shiny ribbon about her neck to match the ribbon he wears in his own hair. 
Mimi pauses in her enjoyment of the food. Your breath catches in your throat, all of your senses on a sudden high alert - what if she didn’t like being touched like that? What if she’s about to mistake your hand for a part of the buffet you’ve brought her?
A moment that seems like an hour passes.
And then she leans into your hand with a pleased rumble-squeak-growl, her eyes closing in pleasure, and despite how your heart is beating and your legs are aching from the way she’s twisted them and trapped them beneath her . . . you smile. 
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For the first week, every time you let yourself into Jing Yuan’s space, you are alone aside from the animals he keeps there. Mimi launches herself at you, but you’ve learnt to sidestep and laugh and ruffle her mane, offering her choice little tidbits to curl up and gnaw on her food whilst you see to the strays that congregate on Jing Yuan’s balcony. They had taken a little longer to warm to you, but after the second day when it became clear if they wanted the same food Jing Yuan usually prepared they would have to come to you, they had thawed considerably. You leave them to their devices, and finish off with the finches. 
They hop from place to place in their cage, cheeping brightly. Sometimes they hop onto your finger or your shoulder, looking at you like you’re the most wonderful being in the universe. Once one had hopped onto your head and you’d stayed stock-still for five minutes, afraid of disturbing it. 
After all of the pets and animals are fed, you’ve gotten into the habit of sitting with them for a little while. Curling around Mimi and stroking her mane and her tail (you’ve braided it, actually, and told her how pretty she looks with little red ribbons in her fur as she blinked at you her slow, lazy blinks). Listening to birdsong. Letting the strays rub about your feet and imagining the Arbiter-General himself doing all of these mundane tasks. 
It’s strange, to think of him as so . . . so much a real person. General Jing Yuan has always seemed a man of mystery and just a touch of romance to you; a long life species who has outlived almost everyone he’s ever worked with, who has steered the Luofu into glories and battled bravely and heroically against Abundance abominations for longer than you’ve been alive. The first time you’d met him, when you’d gotten your place at the Seat of Divine Foresight (before you’d quite found out how meagre your duties really were), you’d been utterly tongue-tied. 
He’d been charming, naturally. Smiling and charismatic and low and pleasant-voiced, saying how glad he was to have you aboard and how he hoped you would enjoy your time here. There’d been, perhaps, a flash of sadness in his eye at the knowledge you were a short-life species-- but you’d quickly tried to dispel that notion, scolding yourself for your own romanticism. Jing Yuan is your colleague, your boss - better to not harbour such idealism, to make him into a storybook character instead of a man. 
Still. It’s rather hard to imagine him out of breath, puffing and wheezing, after pulling the bucket Mimi had gotten her paw stuck in off of the silly lion’s foreleg before she sent herself into a panic. 
You think that the menagerie that he keeps in his private quarters have grown fond of you in turn. The task that everyone had seemed to find so onerous quickly becomes one of your favourite parts of the day; there is something to be said about the healing properties to the soul of having a lion roll over to show you her tummy and wiggle enticingly until you give in to her and give her all of the rubs and tickles that she so clearly desires. 
So for about a week and a half, everything chugs along; you fall into routine, and the animals recognise you in turn. They sometimes still crane their necks and heads hopefully around you to see if Jing Yuan is around (Mimi especially occasionally looks dejected at his absence, though her ears perk up once again as soon as she remembers the buckets you come bearing are filled with delicious morsels for her), but when it is just you they still seem somewhat satisfied. 
Nobody gives you any warning that Jing Yuan has returned to his own rooms. 
Which is why you walk into the main room with your buckets swinging on your arms, singing a silly little song you’ve composed for Mimi about how the meat is soon to be ‘delicious and yummy’ in her ‘full-up-tummy’, you’re so surprised to hear a velvet soft chuckle floating from the big circular sofa in the centre of it that you almost drop all of those delicious-and-yummy steaks and thighs all over Jing Yuan’s ornately tiled floor. 
You stare at the sofa, your cheeks going all-over hot, as a mass of blankets moves and shifts and a slightly ruffled pale head emerges from them.
The General himself. 
It’s obvious, looking at him, that he hasn’t been feeling his best. His normally tied up hair falls over his face in unstyled sweeps, there are dark circles beneath his eyes and a sharpness to his cheekbones that you have never noticed before. Instead of the armour you have grown so used to seeing him clad in, he wears civilian clothes; a loose shirt that shows off the lines of his throat, his collarbone. 
Despite all of that, though, he is still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Your heart still skips a beat. He takes you in for a moment, his face scrunched up as if he is not quite awake; and then, a small smile spreads over his handsome face. 
“Don’t stop on my account,” he says, in that low, musical voice. “I’d like to know where the song has to go, after her tummy has been filled.”
“I’m so sorry,” you blurt out, awkward, nervous, unsure of what to say. “I-- nobody told me you’d be back, I can leave, I didn’t mean to--”
He holds up a lazy hand, the smile still on his face. His eyes are half-lidded, his overall look almost indulgent.
“Please,” he says. “I’m . . . better, but not fully recovered. I’ve been given strict instructions that I'm not to lift heavy objects or do anything more than relax for at least another week. I’d be much obliged - if it’s not too much trouble on top of your own duties, of course - if you could carry on seeing to my . . . what did they call it?” Another small, secret smile. “Ah yes. My little zoo.” 
“I-if you’re sure . . .” You say, surprised to find when you say it aloud that you’re relieved. You truly have gotten attached to all of the animals, even in this short time. 
Mimi butts your leg, impatient for her food, her huge paw petulantly tapping upon the floor. Jing Yuan laughs again, and you feel your stomach clench at the warm sound as it fills the room. 
“Oh, she likes you,” he says, in delight. “I’ve never seen her be so patient with anyone but myself, you know.”
“She’s been friendly since I met her,” you reply, reaching down to scratch her behind her ears and to place the buckets somewhere she won’t make such a mess (though she’s actually a fairly fastidious eater, for someone with no thumbs; you suppose she’s so proud of her lovely white coat that she doesn’t want to risk staining it).
Jing Yuan hums in consideration, his smile not leaving his face, as he watches you pet Mimi and her affectionate head bump before she dives back into her food. As you move into the other sitting room - the one that the finches reside in - you hear more rustling, and as you gather the birdseed you’re surprised to see that Jing Yuan is following you, sloping afterwards determinedly. There’s a definite tilt to his walk - the walk of a man who’s been in bed for a week - and you can’t help but say something.
“Sh-should you be out of bed, General?” You wince at the slight admonishment in your tone, fearing he will think you’re scolding him - but Jing Yuan simply smiles. 
“I need to check on my sweet little charges,” he says. “Come now. I’ve been in bed for days. Let me wander about my own rooms without worrying your pretty head too much about it, alright?”
It takes all of your grace not to turn into a pathetic, embarrassed mess at the easy way he says ‘your pretty head’ - somehow, you manage to keep your composure, keep some measure of poise, even as inside you feel yourself turn to mush. 
He sits down upon a chaise by the birdcages as you reach in to fill the small bowls and scatter the feed, his eyes not leaving you for a second. He smiles when he sees a finch or two hop upon your hand to peck at the seeds and bits left in the crevices of your palm. 
“A true animal whisperer,” he says, watching one of the more inquisitive finches hop up to your wrist and your forearm to tug teasingly at your elbow-length sleeves. “They’re not too fond of strangers, either.”
“I have been feeding them for a week, Sir,” you say to him, with a smile at the finch as you urge it off of your arm and back to the rest of its friends. “They’ve gotten used to me.”
He shakes his head, his hair falling about his shoulders, and you’re struck with the thought that he and Mimi even look similar. You’ve heard the old adage about how pet owners and their pets grow to look the same, of course, but you’d never realised quite how true it was until that moment and the sight of Jing Yuan doing a motion you’ve grown used to Mimi doing. 
He follows, too, as you take food and water onto the balcony. As cats wind around first your ankles, and then his - as dogs wag their tails and lick at your hands. 
“If I were a jealous man . . .” He says, laughing. “They must see something truly special in you.”
“Me?” You ask, aiming for a tinkly laugh but landing on ‘incredulous’. “No, they’re just sweet creatures. All of them are.”
He’s unerringly patient with the animals; his big hands tender as they scratch ears and tickle chins. Seeing the great General being so delicate makes your heart turn over in your chest; his big, scarred hands in direct opposition to the delicate bones and the soft fluff of all of the creatures that mass here. 
“Don’t be so modest,” Jing Yuan says quietly in reply. “I’ve known some of these animals for years. If they didn’t think you were something special . . .” 
Your cheeks are hot again. Somehow, in the course of this conversation, Jing Yuan has gotten closer and closer to you. Out here on the balcony, under the warm false sun of the Luofu, there’s nowhere for Jing Yuan to sit and watch - so he’s stood close to you. Close enough that you can see the warm gold amber of his gaze, the fan of his lashes, the mole high up beneath his eye. You swallow, and the sound is almost indecently loud even with the background mewls and barks and purrs. 
“I’m glad that they found someone so able to do this for me,” he says, his voice still quiet. That single word, those single two syllables, somehow manage to be imbued with more meaning than you’d ever imagined they could be. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you.”
“Just until you’re feeling a bit better,” you reply, cheeks still hot, throat still sore, heart still beating far too fast in your chest. You wonder what Jing Yuan is thinking as he looks down at you - if he has noticed your anxiety, the way that he seems to set you all aflutter. You hope he thinks it is merely because he is your superior, and not because it’s so very hard not to dwell on his looks and his warm voice and the surprisingly different persona that he shows when he’s doing this--
Jing Yuan is still smiling at you, from back on the sofa covered in his blankets with Mimi spread out protectively over his feet, as you foolishly wave goodbye and leave his chambers. 
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You get to witness Jing Yuan’s recovery firsthand. The first few days, he is still unsure of his own limbs; he still slowly lopes around the rooms. Once or twice, you come in to feed the animals and he stays wrapped within his blankets, Mimi only leaving his side to demand some cuddles and some meat from you. 
Despite his illness, though, he always has time to talk to you. He always asks you how you are feeling, what you have been doing; he teases you for how the animals seem to recognise you just as well as him now. When one of the finches pecks at your cheek, he chuckles and says;
“Ah, wouldn’t we all like to give our little bird a kiss like that?”
You don’t know how to respond to that, ducking your head, muttering something unintelligible that wins another of his laughs. His words err on the edge of being flirtatious. Once or twice he compliments your outfit, your hair - how lovely you look today. You never know how to react to such things; you force yourself not to dwell on them, reminding yourself of Jing Yuan’s own looks and his position and trying to tell yourself not to get attached and that the General is merely trying to be polite. 
One afternoon, he asks you to sit with him and have tea. 
It would be rude of you to say no; not when he has placed two teacups before him, anticipating your acceptance, a plate of sweet treats in an amount that would be gluttonous even for him arranged with the tea service. So you try and gracefully position yourself across from him. You try and remember your manners as you take the cup by the handle, as you choose the least ornamented and sugary of the delicacies on offer--
(It’s hard not to remember being told not to indulge at all. You feel conscious of eating in front of him--)
“Have this one,” Jing Yuan says, as if he can read your mind, and he pushes towards you an intricately decorated little cake resplendent with sugar roses and ruffles. “It’s one of my favourites.”
Your mouth waters. You give him an embarrassed smile as he encourages you further, reaching over to pick it up himself and place it upon your plate instead of merely pushing it.
“Really?” You ask, trying to pick it up neatly. “It’s a bit more delicate than I thought you’d like. I suppose I imagined you liking things a little rougher--”
Your face goes hot as you realise what you just said, but Jing Yuan ignores the innuendo and simply smiles at you. 
“Ah,” he says. “I like things that are . . . delicate. Smaller than me. So lovely to observe and enjoy, don’t you think?” His gaze doesn’t leave your face. You have never considered yourself delicate - the curves that you display have put an end to that - but under his eyes, you can’t help but think of the breadth of his shoulders and his height and think how a man like him could make even you feel small and breakable. “What do you think?”
The little cake is sweet on the tongue, flavoured with a hint of something you can’t quite name. Your eyes widen in surprise. 
“It’s wonderful,” you tell him, swallowing the bite and enjoying how the taste lingers. “Truly.”
“I’m so glad you enjoyed it,” he says - and then, he reaches over the table. “You have something--” 
You go stock-still, embarrassed and shocked at the intimacy of the gesture, as he uses his thumb to wipe a smudge of icing from the corner of your mouth. He keeps your gaze the whole time. It is something a lover does - it is not something you’d ever expected General Jing Yuan to do for you--
“There,” he says, returning to his cake as if nothing has happened. “It would be a terrible shame if I couldn’t see all of your lovely face, after all.” 
He is always saying things like this; off-the-cuff remarks that, if he were not the General of the Xianzhou Luofu, you would interpret as being flirty. He mentions them when you have tea together, when he ropes you into playing a game of star chess (“Don’t think I will go easy on you because you are nice to look at,” he says, as he places the counters into their starting positions), when he watches you and Mimi and you and the finches and tells you that he cannot decide which is cuter. 
You see him get gradually stronger and stronger. No more limping. He is almost always dressed, now. His hair no longer falls in shaggy waves about his face. His dark circles dissipate, his voice getting somehow even deeper and more velvety. 
The unspoken reality that soon, Jing Yuan will be well and you will no longer have to take on this extra duty hangs over your head.
You find that the idea makes you feel sick. You are not only enjoying caring for the animals, now, but you’ve also started to look forward to seeing the General. 
Well.
That’s not quite it.
You have to be honest with yourself, don’t you? 
You’ve developed a crush on him. 
You can’t imagine not seeing him. Not being greeted with Mimi’s butts and her batting paws; not hearing the pleased chirps of his finches whenever they see you. Not enjoying tea with him any more, simply existing in this lazy golden time when you do not have to think about work or his position above you or anything other than the four walls that surround you and the multiple hearts beating within it. 
Jing Yuan brings it up first.
“I’ve been thinking,” he says, coughing one day after the two of you have played a game of star chess that you were thoroughly destroyed during. “Well. I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m getting better.”
“I’m glad to see it, Sir,” you say, forcing a smile to your face even as your heart falls into the region of your feet. “We were all very worried about you. Everyone is always asking me how you are and when you’ll be returning to work--”
His face clouds, a flinch so quick you almost miss it.
“Yes,” he says, a mournful tone to his voice. “I’ll soon be returning to work.”
You tell yourself sternly not to cry. This was never supposed to be permanent. 
“Then I suppose you won’t need me any longer,” you say, forcing a smile on your face. You are going to be gracious if it kills you.
“Ah,” Jing Yuan replies. “That’s what I’d like to talk to you about. I . . . we are all very fond of you, you see.” He motions to Mimi, who has come to curl beside you, her head laid against your knee. “I fear Mimi will riot if you were to stop bringing her all of those steaks, you understand. And who knows what she’d do, deprived of your song about her tummy?”
You squeak in embarrassment. Mimi lifts her head and gives you a slow, displeased look, much to Jing Yuan’s amusement. 
“Well. I’m very aware that it’s not part of your duties, and I’d be willing of course to pay you more for all of the trouble, but--” 
You see Jing Yuan falter for one of the first times; as if he is afraid that you are about to reject him outright. He coughs, trying to hide his anxiety, but it is an emotion you’re intimately familiar with and as such you recognise it for what it is. 
“We’re all so very fond of you,” he repeats. “Won’t you keep coming?”
You barely leave a breath before you’re happily agreeing. 
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It’s not quite the same. 
You knew it wouldn’t be; you knew that you wouldn’t see Jing Yuan anywhere near as often, as he resumed all of the many duties that the Arbiter-General has to take on. Despite how unenthused he had seemed to be returning to his work, you knew that Jing Yuan took his responsibilities terribly seriously). 
Still.
You had thought you might see him more. Might still be able to drink a cup of tea with him, even if it could not be the same kind of slow, languid time the two of you had taken over it before. You’d thought that there’d still be time for a conversation or two. 
The reality is that you almost never see the General now. 
At work, your paths had crossed only rarely; now, hyper-aware of his presence, you realise that you see him almost never. Not at work, and not at his own home. 
You’re still excited to see the animals - for the finches to happily chirp at you as if they’re telling you about their day. One of them rides about on your shoulder, now, even when you go out to feed the strays. You’re still excited to tell Mimi what a good girl she is and rub her tummy and play with her (she’s inordinately fond of ribbons and the chasing thereof, like an overgrown housecat). 
But without Jing Yuan there . . .
There’s something missing. 
You still do your duties as well as you can - Jing Yuan has negotiated a hefty raise for you, all things considered - but you can’t help sometimes leaving his home feeling a little empty at the lack of seeing the General. You can’t help being disconsolate as you think about him - as you remember his flirty little asides, the way he’d looked at you across the room, the smile that played across his mouth whenever he did. You know he couldn’t really be interested in you, that he was probably like that with most people - but a secret little flame cannot help but burn in your heart even so. 
Days pass, quiet, lonely. You work, and feed the animals, and go home to your own empty quarters. You work, feed, go home, work, feed, go home--
Until one evening, when you’re just about to leave Jing Yuan’s chambers, when the door opens and the General appears. He looks a little red in the face; his breath comes in short little pants. You’ve never seen him so obviously flustered; usually, Jing Yuan fits perfectly up to his reputation as the Drowsy General. 
“Are you alright?” You ask him, rushing over. You’re touching him before you’ve thought through consequences; finger hovering over his pulse point, reaching up to feel his forehead to make sure he’s not running a temperature. Through the panting, he looks at you and smiles. 
“I’m afraid,” he says, still breathing heavily, his voice rasping. “I made up a little lie to be able to get back here on an errand that doesn’t really exist.”
“General,” you scold him. It’s not like him to shirk responsibilities. He laughs. 
“Yes, yes, I know, little thing-- but I had to see you. I wanted to see you again.”
You think he’s misspoken.
“I have to get back,” he says, and he reaches down - his hands upon your cheek again. You don’t know how to reply, what to say, what is going on. All you know is that you are there, and Jing Yuan is there, and something is happening. Fizzing on the air is a promise that something is going to change. “But . . . I couldn’t-- I needed to finally--”
Jing Yuan kisses you. 
It’s a kiss as messy and rushed as he is right now. A kiss that says that he has to hurry back, despite how much he doesn’t want to. You, unused to being kissed and even more unused to being kissed by handsome military leaders who feel a hundred times out of your league, do not kiss him back. He’s messy and wet, and his teeth clash against your lips as you stand there, feeling foolish and wrong-footed.
He realises you’re not kissing him back, and he stops - he draws back, his eyebrows furrowed. He opens his mouth to speak. 
He’s going to say it was a mistake, you realise. He’s going to say he thought you were someone else, that he was carried away in the heat of the moment. You and Jing Yuan? No. It couldn’t be. It’s absurd, it’s silly, nobody could ever believe it - and yet.
And yet.
Your heart couldn’t take his rejection.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out - and you push past him and out of the door and back towards the comforting ordinary normality of your own empty rooms. 
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Despite your embarrassment, fear and all of those other emotions keeping you up all night, when you wake up the next morning you know that things will be worse the more you put them off. So you get dressed for work and you thank Lan that, when you walk into the Seat of Divine Foresight, Jing Yuan is nowhere to be seen. 
You hope he is hard at work, far away from you. You cannot quite face him yet. You haven’t properly said goodbye to your foolish dreams. 
You can’t shirk your other duties either, so at the ordinary time you stand up from your desk (you’ve somehow been saddled with the job of reviewing paperwork for grammar inconsistencies. You feel certain there ought to be software of some sort that does this job for you, but it had been laid here on your desk when you’d gotten to it and you were not in the habit of arguing about your duties), and you head to the designated supplier of raw meats for Mimi’s consumption.
“Oh,” says the supplier, the evening after Jing Yuan had finagled a way to see you. “He told me to let you know to go straight up today.” 
You frown, not quite sure why; you hope Mimi is alright. It feels strange to be going towards Jing Yuan’s home without your arms weighed down with buckets of meat, but you push forward even so. You hope last night - the awkward kiss, the way he had looked at you - does not sour things between the two of you. You hope that he isn’t about to tell you to never come back. Your heart makes a new home, somewhere in the vicinity of your throat, as you hesitantly knock upon his door.
A beat passes. Your mind helpfully provides you with all of the ways in which Jing Yuan could be about to fire you - or worse, let you down gently and admit that he had a moment of weakness. In that moment, you suddenly seem so much more aware than before of yourself - of the unfashionable curves, of the amount of space you take up, of how a man like Jing Yuan could surely not have really wanted to kiss someone like you - and then, he has opened the door and he is smiling at you and he doesn’t look angry.
Instead, upon seeing you there, a smile passes across his face; tugs at the corners of his lips, crinkles the corners of his eyes.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” he says to you - and he reaches across the threshold and his hand brushes your cheek, as soft and tender with you as he is with his finches. “I’m sorry if I frightened you last night.”
“I’m sorry I ran,” tumbles out of your mouth. “I just . . . I didn’t think you-- and somebody like me-- and I was afraid--”
He lays a finger over your lips, still smiling. 
“It’s alright,” he says, in that low, smooth voice. “I’m sorry if I caused you undue trouble, little bird.” The pet name falls from his lips as easily as any other trifle, though it makes you feel hot and aware of yourself and flattered all at once. “Please come in.”
He takes your hand to gently urge you across the threshold, his touch still feather light. You think, as he does it, of all of the other things those hands have done; all of the battles they have waged, all of the strength that must be contained within them despite how gentle his touch is now. 
“I’ve asked someone else to take care of the animals,” he says to you, not letting go of your hand as he leads you through the front room. You realise with a start exactly where he is taking you as he approaches a door you have never had reason to open before. He looks at you, eyes keen and golden. “I wanted us to be alone. I would hope, little bird, if you do not want this . . .” 
“I do,” tumbles from your mouth. It is nothing but the honest truth. You let the crush that you’ve been trying to deny, the fear of Jing Yuan not liking you or finding you attractive, the anxieties of not being good enough, all wash over you, in favour of the beating of your heart and the feel of his hand on your face and the sight of his hand upon the doorknob of his bedroom. 
He turns fully so he stands before you. Hands come up, cradling your face; thumbs brushing the plump apples of your cheek, fingertips upon the soft flesh. He is smiling still, even as he dips his head lower, so low you can see the multitudes of swirling shades of gold in his eyes. 
“Promise me,” he murmurs, low and soft. “Tell me you want me the way I want you. No expectations, little one. Your career, your position, your everything - nothing will change if you do not want me as badly as I desire you. Honesty.” You realise a tear has escaped from the corner of your eye. You have never felt so . . . seen. So very much wanted. So sure of anything in your life. He wipes that tear with his thumb, tilting your face closer to him so that if you just angled your head differently you could kiss him. “Promise me.” 
“I promise,” you whisper, and Jing Yuan’s lips meet yours. 
This kiss is entirely unlike the one from yesterday; this kiss is slow, luxurious. Jing Yuan starts off gentle with you, his hand still cupping your jaw - his lips moving against yours in slow, indolent waves. He nips at your bottom lip with his teeth and wins a gasp from you, a hitch of your breath, as your own hands come up to rest lightly upon his chest. You feel his mouth curve into a smile against your own. 
“You’re adorable,” he rumbles, pulling back just enough that you can still feel his breath on your face. “Truly - you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you.”
“I--” You helplessly stare up at him. You can barely believe this is happening, as he pushes open the door to his most private of domains. “Really?”
He laughs again, gently taking your arm and urging you into the room. You are helpless to do anything but follow him - to let him slowly, slowly, slowly pull you beside him and onto his bed. 
“You really have no idea how . . . desirable you are?” He asks, voice low and husky, humming with want. His hand skims over your cheek, the nape of your neck, following the line of your jaw and your throat to linger over your collarbone. His eyes follow the path his fingers take, not moving from your form for an instant. “You really didn’t notice me staring at you, little bird?” He leans in, close enough for his breath to tickle your ear. His lips brush over the pulse point in your neck, making you squeak in surprise again even as it sends a bolt of heat to the space between your legs. “Imagining what you would feel like under my hands? Imagining what you would look like, divested of that maddeningly conservative uniform they make you wear?” Another kiss, this one with a hint of teeth. You realise with a hot flush of embarrassment mixed with want you have cried out at the sensation of the almost-bite. “Imagining how you would react to every touch I gave you?” 
“Sir,” you pant, dazed and amazed and hot and needy. “I-- I thought about you, too--”
“Oh,” he murmurs, as his big fingers slide over your body, feeling the ample shape of you through that same conservative uniform. His big palms brush the soft chub of your upper arms, the meat of your chest, the shape of your waist and over the curve of your hips, basely appreciating your body even beneath the fabric. “I’m sure they were no match for the utterly filthy things I imagined doing to you.” 
His thumb digs into the indent of your waist, tugging you closer to him so that you’re pressed tighter against his body. He smiles down at you, every inch the conquering general, and your heart beats in time with the pounding between your legs. He looks at you like he wants to devour you. Wanting and hungry and lustful, like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever seen. It’s not a look you’re overly familiar with receiving - but oh, does it feel amazing to be on the receiving end of it from Jing Yuan. 
“Such a fragile thing,” he murmurs down to you, and you almost laugh, for you do not feel fragile - but Jing Yuan continues speaking, and you get lost in the dulcet tone of his voice. “So very mortal. So very ephemeral . . .” He sighs, dips his head and kisses you again, a flurry of pecks upon your lips as his thumb draws circles where it rests. “Will you let me make the most of having you, little bird? Let me show you how beautiful you are?” He smiles. “I have always had a weakness for delicate things.” 
He means it. 
Any time you have ever felt too big; ungainly, or ill-shaped - all of it falls to the wayside under the warm haze of being looked at and admired and wanted by Jing Yuan. You find yourself smiling up at him, aware you probably look as though there is not a thought in your head, but the General doesn’t seem to mind as he looks at you with hunger colouring his gaze. 
“May I undress you?” He asks, voice low and cajoling. His fingers tease beneath the neckline of your uniform, and it feels as though they leave a trail of fire everywhere they linger. You do not trust yourself to speak; you nod at him, your breath coming out in short little pants. He makes a soft noise of approval, before his fingers are working at buttons and fabric. Cool air hits your bare skin; your uniform is gently cajoled off of your body, tossed aside to be worried about later as Jing Yuan’s hungry eyes drink in every new inch of your exposed skin. 
He does not stop praising you as he does it.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, as your top half is bared, as his eyes roam over your chest and his hands come up and squeeze the generous curve of them, palms rough against delicate skin. You shiver as his thumbs find your nipples, as they rub over them again and again until the buds stiffen beneath his touch and a soft whine escapes the back of your throat. “You’re beautiful.”
His tone is nothing if not worshipful. By slow, luxurious degrees, Jing Yuan helps divest you of your garments. As your underwear and bottoms are rolled down, as fabric bunches at thighs and knees, he does not stop murmuring sweet nothings about how soft you are, how beautiful, how lucky he is to be able to see you like this. 
About how he has been thinking about having you like this since the moment he saw you. 
“You looked so beautiful then too,” he murmurs, as your underwear is pulled from your ankles. He briefly gazes at it, the gusset saturated with your slick, and he smiles. “Ah . . . that little song, the nervous, shy reaction to realising I was there - the sight of you all soft-eyed and adoring with Mimi . . . I’ve never wanted to have my wicked way with somebody quite so much.” 
You’re bare beneath him, Jing Yuan slowly urging you to lay down upon the coverlets of his large bed. You suppose that it’s so large so that if Mimi desires to sleep with him, she can, but it alongside Jing Yuan’s own size simply helps you feel small and delicate and breakable in a way you never have before. 
“I wanted to know,” Jing Yuan murmurs, leaning down and brushing his lips over yours, teasing and feather-light. “If you would be quite so adorable, squirming and nervous and vulnerable, if I were to have you like this.”
Your cheeks are hot. Jing Yuan has not lost a single garment of his own, but you are entirely unguarded to whatever he wants to do to you now - bare of every scrap of fabric. His gaze lingering on your body almost makes you want to draw in; to curl around the exposed flesh of your stomach, to cover the pudge. 
Jing Yuan notices something in the way you hold yourself. He smiles down at you and cups your cheek.
“Don’t hide,” he breathes. “I want to see all of you, little thing. I want you to know how beautiful I find you.”
“I--”
He takes your hand in his, shifting so he is on his knees between your legs. Gently, he guides your unsure hand to the space over his own crotch. Even through the layers of fabric, you can sense the heat of him; the stiffness pushing against his trousers.
“If I did not want you,” he says, “why would you make me so needy, hmm? Feel what you do to me.” He presses your hand a little harder against it, a soft hiss of breath escaping him, encouraging you to not simply take his word for it. Your face hot as ever, you do so; give a gentle squeeze that makes him groan. “Ah-- be careful, sweet thing. I want to take my time over you.”
He lets go of your hand, gently urging you to place it back beside you. Your fingers find purchase in his sheets. You still cannot quite believe where you are; that it’s the great Arbiter-General leaning over you, looking down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing that he’s ever seen. 
“I-it’s not fair,” you say to him, your voice dry. “I’ve lost all of my clothes, and you’re still fully dressed--”
He chuckles. This time, when he bends down, there’s a slow, deliberate quality about him. He kisses your neck again; trails wet butterfly kisses over your collarbones, lower and lower to the swell of your chest. His hands come to cup the generous weight of them, even as his mouth floats closer and closer to your nipples, tightening and stiffening in anticipation. 
“I told you,” he says, murmuring in between flicks of his tongue against the buds. “I want to take my time over you.” He looks at you, eyes half-lidded. “Ah, you short-life species . . . You never learn patience. I have all of the time in the world to give you ecstasy over and over--”
People call Jing Yuan the Dozing General. As he applies his tongue to your nipples, though - as he suckles and nips and bites, as he kisses and squeezes until you feel dizzy with the attention he’s lavishing upon you, you realise that they are misinformed. Jing Yuan is not lazy or dozing - Jing Yuan merely likes to take his time over things. 
And oh, is he enjoying taking his time over you. 
You whine under his touch. You whimper and squirm, your cheeks flooding hot, your entire body prickling with tension and pleasure as his attentions upon your nipples send shockwaves of pleasure down to your sex. You feel wetness fair seeping out of you; slick rolling down your thighs, making a mess of Jing Yuan’s bed sheets. 
“Please,” you manage to get out, dry-voiced and wanting, after what seems like an eternity. “Please, Sir--”
“Jing Yuan,” He corrects you, a smile on his face as he continues to trail wet kisses over your bare skin. “What kind of man would I be if I allowed you to call me ‘Sir’ buried knuckle-deep in you, sweet thing? We are on even ground here.”
It’s hard not to think of him as the General. You are currently barely able to string a thought together, and he hasn’t even touched the place between your thighs yet. Still - you need him to touch you somewhere else. You need his attentions to give your chest a break (your nipples are sore, stiffened points - your skin slick with the wetness of his licks and kisses) and move to somewhere else. You force out, through your desire to genuflect to his status, his given name.
“Jing Yuan--”
“Hmm?” He asks, raising his head. His lips are swollen and pink, his eyes amused. “Do you need something, little bird?”
“Please . . .” A soft exhale, trying to work through the mass of sensations and needs that your body seems to have become. Jing Yuan does not stop touching even as you try and get out your words; still gently squeezing and toying with the weight of your chests. He’s smiling, enjoying watching you desperately work through the haze of your desire. 
“Your words,” he says, a maddening smile pulling at his lips. “Tell me what you want, and I promise I’ll do all in my power to give you it.”
“Please,” you say again, your brain fuzzy. His hands move from your chest now; big palms travelling over the curve of your stomach, your hips, resting there in a way that makes you almost lose all of your senses. “I want you to touch me . . . there--”
“Where, little thing?” He’s still smiling. “Here?” A gentle squeeze to your hips. “Here?” His palm roves over your stomach, the soft pouch just above your mound. You whimper again. “Ah. Come now--”
“Between my legs,” you whisper, voice tight and breaking with desire. “Jing Yuan, please--”
“Ah,” he laughs, dips down and kisses you once on the mouth. “You need only to ask. Spread your thighs for me, lovely thing.”
You do, utterly helplessly. Jing Yuan sighs reverently, moving further down so that he can bend his head to look at you. Your face burns under his scrutiny, fearful that he will find something lacking in your body even as his eyes greedily drink you in like you are the finest wine. He breathes deeply, and you hope that your scent is not off-putting - and then, his fingers are sliding slowly and surely up the soft plush of your legs and closer and closer to the space between your thighs and your heart is beating too fast and your breath is coming in short pants.
“Calm down,” he murmurs, and you keen as his hands reach your sex; as he uses his thumbs to spread the plump lips of your labia apart and the cool air hits your slick, heated core. “Ah, darling . . .”
There is so much in those two syllables. Hunger and desire and adoration, all mixed together as one. In another world, with another person, it might have made you feel self-conscious; but Jing Yuan looks down at you as if you are the most beautiful treasure he has ever had the good fortune to witness. 
He leans down, down - and you squeak as you realise what he’s about to do, surprised, but it does not deter him at all as he lets his tongue take a slow, luxurious lick down your sex. The base of his tongue presses against your clit, the pressure on the swollen hitherto ignored nub almost enough to make you come right there and then - but then he pulls back again, chuckling.
“Mm,” he says. “If I allow myself to sample too much of something so sweet, I’m afraid I’ll lose my composure.” He moves his hand instead; lets his fingers explore the length of you, fingertips brushing against your clenching entrance and dancing about your swollen clit. There is little pressure exerted on your sex; merely Jing Yuan’s slow, considering explorations. You clench your own fingers into the bedsheets in order to stop yourself writhing. 
“Lovely,” Jing Yuan says to himself. “Ah, you feel like velvet. Such a pretty thing; so perfectly made . . .” He sighs, even as the tip of his longest finger nudges against your entrance. Your hips move of their own accord, trying to suck him in and get him to put his finger inside of you, but he clicks his tongue with an amused chide; “Impatient,” he says. “Ah. You’re lucky you’re so irresistible--”
He slides his finger inside of you, slowly but certainly. You sigh, your lashes fluttering closed - his touch stokes all of those fires inside of you, of course, burning to fever pitch . . . but the sensation of finally having something inside of you has also made you realise how empty you felt before. It feels good, to have something to fill that pulsing space. Jing Yuan watches with rapt attention as he slides his finger half out, and then half inside of you again. 
You have had some experience, but you have never felt the way Jing Yuan makes you feel. 
“You take it so well,” he murmurs. “Look how pretty you look with something inside of you. Ah. I could spend hours doing this to you . . .”
You make a soft whine of discontent at the idea and he laughs, clicking his tongue even as he’s letting his second finger dance at your entrance ready to join the first. 
“No, even I do not have the patience for that right now,” he agrees. “Not when you feel so wonderful, little bird. Not when I cannot wait to see you come apart.”
The second finger; a slight scissoring motion as it enters you, getting you used to the size and stretch of two of his digits instead of one. The heel of his palm presses against your clit with every wet pump, sending frissons of pleasure to the tips of your toes; but he still does not rush himself. He still lets himself enjoy the feel of you clinging tightly to his fingers, the sight of them disappearing inside of your slick, drooling hole. 
“Does that feel good?” He asks you, deciding you haven’t spoken recently enough. “Tell me if you want me to go faster, sweet thing--”
“Please,” you say, ragged, breathing heavy. You can feel a tight hot ball of tension between your legs, rolling in your gut, threatening to overwhelm you. “Please, Jing Yuan, faster--”
“Very well,” he smiles, and he crooks his fingers inside of you to find your g-spot - causing your back to arch involuntarily, a whine of pure enjoyment to loose itself from your throat. At the same time, his thumb moves to play with your clit - to toy with the bud, to roll and to circle and to press against the swollen bundle of nerves. What already felt like electric shocks of pleasure move on; instead, they are lightning bolts, ricocheting up your spine and stopping just short of striking earth. 
“You’re close,” Jing Yuan says, and you are staring at his mouth. How a strand of your own gossamer-thin arousal is still glimmering at the corner. How his eyes are so focused on you that his gaze feels almost scorching. “That’s right. Let go for me, sweet thing--”
His soft entreaty pushes you over the edge, and the lightning strikes home as your peak hits you with all of the force of a storm.
His fingers work you over the crest of your orgasm, the two inside of you constantly rubbing against that spongy spot that makes you see stars, the big pad of his thumb roughly sliding over your twitching clit in circles and lines. As the waves come to a head and then slowly begin to dissipate, he slows his attentions too - until the slow strokes of his fingers fade out into nothing. He does not seem to care that you’ve soaked his fingers and his palm and the fabric he wears and his bed too - merely keeps looking at you, smiling, like you’re giving him the most precious gift imaginable. 
“Good,” he praises you. “But . . . I’m afraid that just that taste from earlier wasn’t quite enough, little bird. May I use my mouth on you?”
Who would ever believe this? Who would ever imagine little old you, on the Arbiter-General’s bed, as he looks at you and waits for your permission to fuck you with his tongue? You feel rather tongue-tied yourself - but you recall what Jing Yuan said earlier, about using your words.
“Please do,” you say, aloud, and Jing Yuan gives you that same smile that makes you feel like the only being in the whole universe.
“Thank you,” he says, sounding entirely like he means it - like it’s truly an honour for him to be able to serve you on his hands and knees. And then he has moved his body further down the bed, elegant and graceful and leonine, and his mouth is heading towards the slick-soaked place between your legs and his tongue is glinting wet in the bedroom and then he is on you, licking at you, hungrily devouring your sex like it is his last meal before an execution. 
You’re still oversensitive from his earlier attentions, and the sensation of the wet muscle of his tongue working over you almost pushed you into another early orgasm. Your fingers move from where they’re still clenched into the bedsheets to cling to his hair instead, pulling on the silvery pale strands as your back arches and you blindly cant your hips forward towards his mouth.
He groans aloud at having his hair pulled, and the groan sends vibrations all through your body that make you feel weak at the knees, your toes curling. His tongue continues its assault; back and forth, back and forth. Wetness drools from your sex and onto his face; you can feel the heat in his cheeks, the fan of his lashes against your bare skin. 
He twirls his tongue about your entrance, teasingly dips into it, as the channel of your sex constricts and pulses in an attempt to pull him even further in. He groans as your hands knit further into his hair, fucking you for a moment with his tongue before he seems to try and work his face further into your sex. 
It’s like he wants to engulf you; soft noises of pleasure keep falling from his mouth, interspersed with rumbling groans. He’s almost gyrating against the bed, you realise, your cheeks hot - grinding his crotch into the mattress as if he’s desperate to have some attention of his own. 
That sight makes your mouth go dry; all of the moisture in your body instead congregating between your legs to make a new home in Jing Yuan’s mouth and smeared across his cheeks. 
His tongue flicks across your clit and the noise that escapes you is almost animal; Jing Yuan says something, perhaps, or at least makes some kind of muffled noise from his position happily buried in your sex before he shifts his tongue just so and his mouth fastens around your clit fully. 
Sucking and licking, suckling upon the pearl like his life depends upon it; tongue occasionally just brushing under the hood, where you’re most engorged, and you can do nothing but cling onto his hair and pull at it as the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt rips through your body.
You cannot put into words the way that you feel as Jing Yuan devours you. Your entire body feels, suddenly, as if it weighs nothing; as if sparkling lights suffuse your fingers and toes and you float into the stratosphere, white lights dancing behind your eyes in time with your whine (a whine so loud you’re sure everybody on the Luofu must have heard of it).
You come down, eventually, to the sound of Jing Yuan panting. The wet noise as his mouth separates from you, the pleased grin on his face as he uses his thumb to wipe his mouth of some of your slick. It’s a pointless endeavour, really; his face is so saturated with it you’re not sure if he’ll ever be dry again. 
“Darling,” Jing Yuan repeats, looking you in the eye, smiling like the cat who has gotten the cream. “You have no idea how much I enjoyed doing that.”
The words almost make you go over shy - but you push that to the side. There is no point, you decide, being nervous of a man who has now known you so intimately.
“In which case,” you say, breathlessly - your voice is still a little scratchy from the moaning and whimpering you’ve been doing - “Will you let me make you feel just as good?”
He looks at you for a moment, before he throws his head back and laughs.
“Why,” he says. “Of course I will.”
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“Come,” Jing Yuan is murmuring, and he is finally removing his own clothes. Armour drops to the side of him, shirts unbuttoned and fastenings unhooked. His body is muscular and dotted with scars, befitting his status as a military hero; a light dusting of pale hair upon his proud chest, down into a trail to the vee of his hips. You swallow, your throat dry, trying to blink back the waves of pleasure that are still lapping gently at your shores in order to concentrate on what’s going on. His face is still wet with your slick, his hair damp with sweat and falling in messy strands over his flushed face. He looks well-fucked even without you touching him back, as if merely getting you to feel good was enough for him. 
His cock. It’s stiff against the hard planes of his abdomen, a thick, pretty specimen bubbling with precome at the flushed tip. He sighs, running his hand over it once, and your mouth practically waters at the way it twitches. It looks stiff and hard enough that you wonder if it hurts, to want so badly - but Jing Yuan looks at you and smiles, as he rearranges himself on the bed. Pillows are moved, and before you know it he has sat against them, propping himself up like an emperor upon his throne. His cock stands proud and wanting, and he gently pats his thigh as if he is calling an obedient animal to him.
“I don’t wish to hurt you, little bird,” he says - and again, you think of how it feels to be smaller than him. How he does not care about the flesh that spills from straps or curves over fabric. How he looks at you like the most beautiful thing in the world and calls you ‘delicate’ and ‘little’ and ‘precious’ and means them. “Come. Take a seat. As slowly as you need.” 
Despite how he has seen you so intimately, you cannot help but feel a little flare of fear as you approach him. He smiles, entirely at peace and at comfort with you going at your own pace, and you could kiss him for it.
“Touch,” he murmurs. “Don’t be afraid.”
With trembling fingers, you reach out; let your hand encircle his cock, get used to the width and the feel of him and imagine it inside of you. He pulses beneath your palm, a soft hum of pleasure falling from the back of his throat as you give it a cursory pump. He curses softly as your thumb rubs across the slit of his cockhead, the bubble of precome wetting the pad.
“Touch,” he says, with a smile. “But don’t get me too excited, little bird. I don’t want to come anywhere but inside of you.”
Your cheeks go hot at his easy profession; your tongue darts out to trace your lower lip. You’re used to the feel of him now; the heat that seems to stir beneath the surface of his cock, the veins that marble the side of his shaft, the ruddy pink of the head. Taking a deep breath, you spread your legs and let yourself readjust, straddling him. His own hands come up to cling to your thighs, sinking into the soft flesh there.
“You’re so soft,” he murmurs, as if in devotion, as if praying to an Aeon. “You’re beautiful.” 
His cockhead brushes your clit as you fit it snugly between the lips of your sex; you shift your hips, until it catches against your entrance and your eyes flutter closed. 
Your eyes are still closed as you begin to lower yourself down, so you feel every inch of him as he makes his home within your body. Your eyes being closed, of course, you miss the softness and the warmth that fills Jing Yuan’s gaze as he looks at you. The brief moment of sadness that passes behind his eyes as he remembers that you are a short-life species; that he cannot have all of the time in the world with you, to teach you pleasures the likes of which you do not yet know. The sadness he cannot spend his lifetime learning you by heart--
But you hear the soft murmur of your name, as he bottoms out inside of you and you take a moment to simply rest there with him buried as deep inside of you as he can go. You feel the way one of his hands slides up your spine to grip the back of your head and to pull you into a kiss as deep and adoring as anything else he’s done so far. 
Teeth and tongue and lips, whimpering and gasping into one another’s mouths until you do not know where he ends and where you begin, Jing Yuan somehow manages to murmur;
“Move whenever you want, sweet thing. Set the pace.” 
It does not, in the end, feel like either of those things happen. Instead, it feels as though the universe sets the pace for you; as if you simply know when to begin to move your hips, how to bend and angle yourself just so in order for Jing Yuan to hit all of the most sensitive spots inside of you.
One hand remains on your hip, helping you with the pace - the other remains on the back of your head, to allow him to kiss, as if he doesn’t want to let his mouth separate from yours for any longer than necessary. It’s a romance that you didn’t expect of the General, but it’s hardly one you’re going to complain about when his mouth feels so good and the constant nibbling of your lip and curl of his tongue against yours is distracting you from the mounting pleasure already starting to coalesce inside of you. 
There is nothing in the world for a while except Jing Yuan’s body underneath yours. His hands, his mouth, the feel of his shoulders beneath your own palms where you cling to him for leverage. You sweat and breathe and kiss and fuck as one, until the call inside of you becomes too much to ignore.
“I’m--” You pull back from the kiss to whisper, voice hoarse. “I’m going to--”
“Shh,” Jing Yuan says, kissing again. His own voice climbs in pitch, and you hear a shiver and a shudder in his syllables that makes you aware that he, too, is not far from his own release. His teeth nip at your lower lip as he half-begs into your mouth. “Please. Come again for me, sweet thing, little bird, pretty-- let me feel you--”
Your third orgasm crashes over you, your sex spasming around his cock, tight and hot and pulsing - and Jing Yuan groans into your mouth as you push him over the edge too, and you feel his cock spasm in turn. Ropes of hot release shoot inside of you; you had thought, earlier, that having his cock buried all the way inside of you was the extent of how full you could feel. 
You were wrong.
You bite at his lips, whining and half-sobbing, as the please encompasses you like a cloak of warmth. Jing Yuan groans in return, his hips making needy fast circles to chase the dregs of his own release. It feels right, for the two of you to peak together like this. For the two of you to chase every last drop of pleasure, entwined together and sweating and kissing and as close to one being as it’s possible to be.
Eventually, your breathing slows. Eventually, the kiss turns tender instead of frenzied. Eventually, you pull back from Jing Yuan with a foolish smile on your face and your cheeks hot and tears of pleasure (that you hadn’t even realised you had cried) rolling down your face like sparkling diamonds.
You stare at each other, the enormity of what has happened washing over you. Jing Yuan’s face is calm and serene, but his eyes are bright still, his cheeks still high in colour. 
You fear for a moment that he is about to dismiss you; that what the two of you just shared will mean nothing now that it is over. You fear that you’re about to go back to what you were before; a colleague and an employer, a General and a subordinate. But then, Jing Yuan lets out a deep rumbling sigh, pleased, as he collapses back upon the pillows. He opens his arms for you to dismount, his cock sliding slippery and wet outside of you, his come trickling down your thighs.
“Come here,” he murmurs, sounding tired but terribly pleased; the cat who has gotten the cream. He’s like a lion once more. You are helpless to resist his indication that he wants to cuddle, and so you let him pull you into his arms, let him manoeuvre you to lay against his chest until you can hear his heart beating. His fingers stroke your head, like you’re a sweet-tempered animal yourself. “Mmm. Rest with me, little bird.”
You let yourself. Your body is aching and sore from the orgasms and the sex, and you let your eyes drift closed, lulled by the comforting rhythm of his breathing. 
A sleepy kiss is dropped onto the crown of your head.
“Enjoy it whilst you can,” Jing Yuan hums. “Before we start having to make room for Mimi every night.”
1K notes · View notes
naeviskz · 4 months
Text
WHIRLWIND ๑‧˚₊ ─── HHJ
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synopsis ; you overreact just a teensy bit when you see hyunjin talking to another girl, but when you find out the actual reason why … you try everything you can to make it up to him.
genre 숌 non-idol au, boyfriend!hyunjin x girlfriend!reader | established relationship
words - 3.6k tags/warnings 숌 fluff, (some) angst? pwp, smut, reader gets very jealous easily/has possessive tendencies, small mentions of insecurities, v v v clingy & needy gf, marking, dry humping, dirty talk, oral (m), lowkey daddy kink, hj has a big cawk, breeding kink cause that’s my fave tehe. i will preface that oc kinda has a toxic way of thinking and it’s def not healthy to act this way irl !!
now playing 🎧 : cool with you by newjeans, streets by doja cat
☆ 彡
[ this my first ever writing that has smut in it so bear w/ me pls ;-; i’m still learning how to do this right haha, but lmk if you enjoyed this at all <3 **not proofread btw ! ]
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“Let’s go on that one next Jinnie!!” You squeal like a giddish teenager as you point to the ride up ahead, violently pulling on Hyunjin’s hand his entire arm might just fall off.
It’ll be your 1 year anniversary in approximately a week, and what better way to pre celebrate than going to the amusement park and watching fireworks at night? You haven’t been to one in years, reminiscing all those times you were a kid innocently frolicking around, not having a single care in the world. Since you’re a fully grown adult now it’s an altered experience, you’re able to pick up on social cues and no longer need parental supervision. You forgot just how thrilling it was to let loose and have fun, all while spending it with your lovely boyfriend.
The current ride you’re both getting on is essentially a giant wooden pirate ship that swings in a horizontal motion, elevating you high up in the air. You don’t do heights very well but Hyunjin’s a little daredevil who gets off on the adrenaline rush. He’s tried convincing you to do skydiving but that’s just something you refuse to compromise on. Before going on the pirate ship ride you went on the teacups, which was probably your favorite one of today. You couldn’t stop giggling and teasing Hyunjin over how incredibly fast he was spinning the turn-wheel, almost forgetting that you were also supposed to contribute. Spending quality time with your boyfriend like this means everything to you, he makes you feel like you’re floating on a pink cloud whenever you’re together. Like nothing else matters but you and him.
As the day progressed, what was once a milky, pale blue sky has now become a smoky dull atmosphere. Night was approaching any minute, making the temperature drop dramatically— you regret leaving the house in just shorts and a crop top. Your limbs shaking and trembling involuntarily from gusts of cool air the wind casually blows, Hyunjin seems to take note of this and takes action immediately.
“Want my hoodie babe?” Hyunjin asks out of concern, ready to yank it off the minute you agree.
You profusely nod at his offer, unable to withstand the frigid weather for another second. He pauses momentarily to grab the hem of his Versace sweatshirt with his free hand, swiftly drawing it over his head and handing it to you. Underneath he wore a thin plain white tee, now suffering from the cold— but any sacrifice is worthy of making for his precious babygirl.
Quickly putting it on, your body feels instantly warmer from his body heat still embedded into the soft fabric. “You saved me Jinnie, I almost turned into a human popsicle!” Were you exaggerating a bit? Maybe, but that’s beside the point. You’re all cozy now in Hyunjin’s oversized hoodie, loving the fact that only you get to wear his clothes.
His eyes shape into crescents as he flashes an adoring smile, “my diet would only consist of peach flavored ___ popsicles for the rest of my life then.”
You swear he’s just the cutest, most adorable, sweetest thing to have ever walked this earth. Sometimes you wonder how you got so lucky to end up with a person as charming, and perfect as Hyunjin. He’d say the same about you too but there’s another layer to how you feel. You’re often very over protective and territorial over him, needing to know exactly where he is at all times and who he’s hanging out with. Most of the time he’s with you, either at your place or at his. There was a set routine you two had at this point, after he’s done with work he’ll call and let you know he’s on his way to yours. Hyunjin knows how paranoid you can get when he’s gone for too long so he makes sure to communicate with you as much as he can throughout the day. It’s hard to deal with someone as high maintenance as you but he makes it work, he likes that you’re always worried and concerned about him — he’d rather have a girlfriend like that than one who doesn’t care about him.
“Looks like the sun should be setting soon.. won’t be much longer ‘til the fireworks start!” You cheer out of excitement, part of the reason you wanted to come was to see them.
He nods in agreement, “you’re right, is there anything else you wanna ride before they start?”
As if your brain answered before you could even think, “You.”
His doe eyes widened at your bold reply, never quite getting used to your subtle dirty mind. “I’ll give you that in due time, don’t worry mamas.”
A little bit later on you challenged Hyunjin to try the ‘test your strength’ game and of course he couldn’t pass up a moment to impress you. He gets into a competitive sports stance, gripping the hammer tightly before he swung hard at the puck. The meter flew straight up and hit the bell on his first try, able to win whatever prize he wanted from the largest section. He lets you choose whichever plushy you wanted, a giant fluffy pink stuffed unicorn that you held in your other hand that wasn’t occupied with Hyunjin’s.
“Hyunjinnieee, ‘m getting kinda hungry,” you childishly whine in hopes of getting him to buy you both food.
Before he could even get a response out your eyes were already fixated on something. The glowing neon lights of a food stand selling mozzarella corn dogs, you’ve always wanted to try those as you see them all the time on TikTok. Without hesitation you make a mad dash for the line as you drag your innocent boyfriend along for the adventure. As you got closer you realize the lines pretty spread out, there was at least 20+ people waiting but you were willing to stay as you really wanted one.
Hyunjin detaches his hand from yours, making you question his sudden intentions, “be right back babe, m’gonna go to the restroom.” He politely excuses himself, “here’s my card just in case I don’t make it back in time.” Pulling his credit card from his wallet to hand you before venturing off.
“Don’t be gone for too long please, or else I’ll come find you myself.” You were dead serious too, honestly speaking you didn’t necessarily want him out of your sight but you trust that he’ll come back in a reasonable amount of time. Hopefully.
“I promise babe.” He reassures, giving a quick peck to your forehead before vanishing into the crowd.
After what seemed like an eternity, you manage to secure the corn dogs and pay for them with Hyunjin’s card. Realizing now that your boyfriend is still gone, it’s been a good 15-20 minutes and he promised that he’d be back. Now you have to go looking for him like a mother who’s just lost their child. Scanning every area of the park you came across, you begin to feel anxious when you don’t see him anywhere. A range of negative thoughts intrude your mind with possibilities of where he could’ve gone. What you weren’t expecting was for your intuition to be exactly spot on.
There he was standing in front a taco truck, talking and laughing with another girl. A girl you absolutely do not recognize and have no clue why or what she’s doing even having a conversation with your man. You couldn’t move at all, frozen in place as you watched the scene fold out in front of you, making you more livid as it continues. The mystery girl was pissing you off by the minute, the tiny skirt she wore barely left anything to the imagination and her body language was way too close for comfort for your liking. You had to put a stop to this immediately.
Slowly you make your way up to them, examining the situation further. The blonde girl tries to loom even closer to Hyunjin but he backs away a bit, a sheer look of fear and paranoia in his eyes. She keeps talking to him but he doesn’t really say much back, only half smiling and nodding. What makes you pick up your pace at lightning speed was when he pulls his phone out from his back pocket, as if he’s about to ask for her number.
You’ve seen enough, it’s time to intervene now.
Practically sprinting up to them you see the girl perk up when she sees you, giving a friendly wave and inviting smile as if she wasn’t just trying to steal your man a second ago. You’re ready to rip this bitches hair out and show her that she’s picked the wrong one to mess with today.
“Oh hi, you must be ___, it’s so good to finally meet you!” Her voice was so squeaky and high-pitched, not even in a cute way, just obnoxiously loud and annoying.
…How the fuck does this girl know who you are?
“Who the hell is this?” You snap at Hyunjin, completely ignoring the girl’s presence, “How does she know you?”
“I’m— ”
“I believe I asked my boyfriend, not you. Who is she?” You rudely cut her off to reiterate the question.
Hyunjin looks like he’s just witnessed a murder, his own murder to be exact. “This is Valerie, we went to high school together, I was just showing her your freelance work and all the cool designs you make ‘cause she’s looking for graphic designers and I think you’re really talented babe.”
Your heart just sank to the pit of your stomach. The balled up fist your right hand was clenching soon released itself, no longer in fight mode but flight mode from the sudden embarrassment you’re internally battling.
“Oh..”
“Uh, well it was nice talking to you Hyunjin! I’ll go find my husband now, but your graphics are incredible ___ and I’d love to hire you for a couple projects I have lined up. Here’s my business card!” She hands you the flimsy card stock and leaves in an instant.
Now you feel totally ridiculous for almost causing a scene and cursing out the girl and your boyfriend for just wanting to promote your work. You owe him an apology big time.
“I thought you were…”
“Flirting with another girl, seriously? You think I have a death wish or something? Of course I’d never try something like that. The first thing she saw was you as my lock screen when I checked the time. Plus she’s married, I don’t think she’d be that dumb.” Hyunjin further proves his case, making sure not to leave any details out.
“M’sorry baby, please forgive me.” You plead for forgiveness, regressing back to your softer, more gentle side “lemme make it up to you daddy.”
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“Nngh! Hyunjin-” you keen into his ear as you rub your clothed heat against his toned thigh, holding onto him for stable support.
You seriously felt bad for acting out like that earlier, all you want to do now is make him feel so good he forgets all about your previous unhinged behavior. Lord knows what you’d do if you ever lose someone so important to you. You can’t think about that right now though. Right now was all about him and making him feel good, but you can’t help but get something out of it as well.
The backseat of his car was a bit cramped as he decided to take his smaller convertible instead of the SUV, not exactly bargaining that later on you’d be getting freaky in his vehicle. Nonetheless you enjoy each other’s company, not needing much space anyway — if anything you wanted to be as close to him as possible. If you could get inside his skin you probably would. You love Hyunjin more than yourself, often feeling like you aren’t good enough to be with him. Maybe the reason you’re so protective and jealous is because you fear he’ll leave you for someone better.
Lazily trailing your lips down further, placing small pecks here and there until you land on his neck, adorned with a dainty silver chain, nuzzling your face into the crook of it. He smells so good, the cologne he’s wearing along with his natural pheromones is an intoxicating concoction. You stick your tongue out, gliding the wet muscle over his bare skin, still feverishly rutting into him while listening to his ethereal moans.
“Mmm.. I love you.” He murmurs under his breath, slipping his hands underneath (his) your hoodie to feel you up. His hands travel upwards to find the valley of your breasts, still covered by the bra you’re wearing he slides underneath the cups to lightly squeeze them.
You nibble on his neck in response, harshly sucking on the flesh to leave visible love bites, you want to make it abundantly clear to the whole world Hwang Hyunjin belongs to you.
“I love you more Hyunjinnie,” you stop for a brief moment to say, “gonna prove it.” Which you will once you’re satisfied with marking his entire neck and chest with dozens of purple and red hickeys.
Even though he’s touching you, grinding his hard length into you and purring out your name, you need more. Craving to see and feel more of him, you tug at the hem of his t-shirt in hopes he catches your drift.
“Off. Now.” You demand sharply, getting more impatient by the second.
He obliges instantly, stripping the garment off his body to reveal the most gorgeous set of abs you’ve laid your eyes upon, he’s so unreal it makes you constantly question if you’re dreaming. You went from his neck to kissing his plump lips, his hand cupping the side of your face to deepen the kiss, both so desperate and horny for each other. Running your manicured hands down his beautiful body, just the tiniest flexing Hyunjin does with his muscles makes you go crazy. You need him to manhandle you, have you bent over and get fucked senselessly.
“Lie back Jinnie, m’gonna suck you off.” You command him to move, getting up from him so he can pivot into a more comfortable position.
He shuffles around, leaning into the leather seat before quickly undoing his pants and sliding them down his ankles. You get on your knees, disappearing between his legs to come in contact with his stiff erection. Tracing figure eights on his thighs, he hisses from your delicate touch. You couldn’t resist planting a chaste kiss to his stomach, leaving another wet kiss to his v-line. Any little touch makes Hyunjin’s heart beat out of his chest, he can’t get enough of you just as you can’t of him— high off each other like an addictive, psychoactive drug.
As you finally free his cock from the last barrier, his boxer briefs, you’re in awe from just how much precum he’s leaking already. His length stood straight up resting on his stomach, faint veins protruding around the shaft. You kiss his pretty pink tip while looking up at him with innocent eyes, grabbing the base of his cock, opening your mouth just a little to provide a few kitten licks. You’ve only just started but he feels like he’s going to come undone already.
“Shit-” he lowly grunts, feeling his cock pulsate in your tiny hand.
Taking him further in your mouth now, you manage to fit half of his length, bobbing your head up and down while keeping a tight suction on his cock. Hyunjin involuntarily rocks his hips into you, making you gag just a little from how big he is. You could never fit all of him (except for that one time you were super drunk and magically forgot what a gag reflex was) but you still try your best and that’s all that matters to him. He loves that you’re always willing to give him random blowjobs whenever and wherever, you both love public sex and the idea of possibly being caught. You take a short break to collect more saliva, spitting on his cock and spreading it with your hand to make it even messier. His mouth was permanently agape, staring down at you with lust filled eyes, not knowing how much longer he can last. When you start pumping his cock much faster along with swirling your tongue around it , he thinks he might just lose it. Panting heavily, he shifts underneath you in attempt to get you to stop but you keep sucking like the cock hungry slut you are for him. He’s seriously going to nut any minute if you continue at this rate.
“Babe.. you’re gonna make me cum if you keep this up…” he closes his eyes, almost giving in to what’s inevitably about to come.
“Isn’t that the goal?” You ask quickly before going back.
“No,” he says, slightly frustrated with you for not obeying, “fucking this tight little pussy is.”
You’re confused when he’s pulling you away from him, moving you from the floor and back onto his lap all in one swift action, manhandling you for real this time. “What’re you doing!” You raise your voice at him like a brat, to which he spanks your behind in response.
“Shh.. relax.” He shuts you up by pulling you in for a slow, sensual kiss.
You moan into his mouth, melting right into his touch like always. “Need you so bad please..” you whine for to feel more of him.
“Tell me what you need, I’ll give it to you baby.” He promises, lacing his fingers in your hair, looking at you with pure admiration.
“Your cock.. need your big fat cock inside me now,” you beg like a good girl, “please daddy, i’m literally soaking for you.” Shameless at this point with how you talk, but you know the dirtier you get the more Hyunjin likes it.
He can’t say no when you ask so polite that. “I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you whatever you want princess.”
And he does.
Once he rids you of your shorts and underwear, you’re back on top of him, lining yourself up with his thick cock that slides right in from you being so ready.
“Fuck you’re so wet baby.. you take this cock so well cutie,” he praises you in the hottest way possible. You’ll never get tired of hearing him talk like this to you, hence why you love to have sex so much.
“Only for you daddy.” You breathlessly spoke, getting used to his length for a moment before beginning to move. Slowly bouncing up and down his member at first until Hyunjin slams his cock into you, walls clenching as you feel every inch of him. You shifted from grinding on him in slow motion to picking up your speed, placing both hands around his neck. Hyunjin throws his head back in pleasure, wrapping his hand around your waist as the other grips the soft flesh of your ass.
“Mine… your cock is mine,” you’re going faster and faster, crying out as he matches your movements, thrusting back into you hard. “Only I get to ride this everyday.”
He doesn’t hesitate to agree, letting you know exactly who he belongs to. “I’m all yours babygirl, can have this cock as much as you want, use me to get yourself off..”
You feel like you’re about to come soon, legs shaking and spasming from his girth splitting you open. “Yes baby..” you couldn’t think straight anymore, “love your cock so much Jinnie..” You mewl from being so full and cockstuffed “mmph.. wanna have your babies.”
“Yeah? Want me to fill your little cunt with all my cum and get you pregnant, hmm ? That what you want pretty girl?” He sounded so pussy drunk he couldn’t even blame you for wanting to any of this.
One more thrust was all it took for the thread to unravel inside of you, seeing white, glowing stars as you get closer to your orgasm.
“Jinnie kiss me.”
He does as he’s told, grabbing your face to kiss you roughly, entering his tongue in your mouth to intertwine with yours. He’s so good at everything he does it’s insane. Maybe if the dick wasn’t so damn good you wouldn’t be half as crazy.
“I’m so close princess..” he announces, slipping one of his long, slender digits onto your clit, coaxing your release.
“Me too.”
Everything feels ultra sensitive to you as you approach your climax, whimpering as Hyunjin sucks on your perked nipples while you continue riding him. A sudden rambunctious crackling sound startles the both of you, but what you weren’t expecting to see outside were fireworks lighting up the night sky. You’d completely forgot how excited you were to see them, watching in amazement as all the vibrant colors morph together. Leaning in to tenderly kiss your boyfriend who was also momentarily distracted, you get back right to business, chasing after your highs. Hyunjin finishes inside you like you wanted, feeling his hot seed spill into your aching heat. You came undone shortly after, holding onto him while your bare chests collide. Fireworks detonate inside your body as they do outside.
As if the universe had orchestrated the perfect 1 year anniversary pre celebration just for the two of you; a perfect moment to seal your love with the glittering magic of romance and fireworks combined. Hyunjin’s so happy to have met someone like you, someone who loves him so passionately and so deeply. He may not understand why you think the way you do sometimes, or react with such brash methods, but he knows that you do it out of pure love. It’s a whirlwind of emotions dating you but he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world or have it any other way.
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- 完 ♡︎
460 notes · View notes
d0youc0py · 1 year
Note
I am literally in love with your writing. Can we get a more silent/nonchalant reader that doesn't usually speak so that when 141 goes home upset she doesn't have much to say and they get upset?? Angst to fluff please, thank u so much!!
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You were just starting to drift off to sleep when the door shut abruptly.
“Sweetheart.” You heard from the living room. You were usually still up and roaming at this time, but you really just wanted to curl up under the covers.
“In here!” You shouted. He wasn’t suppose to be back for another two weeks, he had just left three days ago. “Everything alright? You’re back already.”
“Fucking hell.” He grumbled making his way to the bedroom. You met him at the door way scanning him over with your eyes.
“You get hurt again?” You questioned tugging at his shirt. He shook his head. His cheeks were flushed and his hand rubbed back and forth over his jaw.
“You’re not gonna believe this.” He scoffed. He patted your bottom in greeting and pushed his way into the bedroom. He started peeling off his clothes until he was just in his boxers. “Price pulled me out.” He growled. Your eyes widened. That was very unlike Captain.
“What happened.” You questioned plopping back down on the bed. He paced back and forth. You were shocked when he actually began to explain. He usually never went into any detail about his job.
“Said we made a bad call, some people who weren’t suppose to get hurt ended up getting hurt.” He grumbled, plopping down next to you.
“We?”
“Me and Gaz.” He clarified. “The best bit is that he didn’t pull Gaz, just pulled me.” What you were about to say next was the opposite reaction of what he was expecting.
“Well you are Lieutenant, yeah?” You yawned. His head left his palms and shot over to you.
“What?” He spat.
“I mean you’re the one who probably made the call, Captain goes down with the ship.” You shrugged. You leaned over to press a kiss against his shoulder but he tore himself away before you could.
“You fucking serious right now?” You instinctively shrunk away from the growl in his voice. “He didn’t pull Gaz because he’s the favorite.” He pressed.
“Si, Captain doesn’t play favorites like that and you know it.” You don’t know why you said it. You guess you just didn’t want Simon to have hard feelings towards Price, especially when he didn’t deserve it. That was Simon’s breaking point. He reached across the bed and grabbed his pillow, stomping back into the living room. He needed time to cool off. To be honest so did you. Sighing you got up from the bed and turned the lights off, crawling back under the covers.
•Morning•
You woke up to the smell of your favorite breakfast in the air: French toast. Relief flooded your body. You had a bit of a hard time sleeping last night due to your tuff with Simon, but the fact he was making your favorite breakfast showed he was over it. You shed the covers off making your way to brush your teeth.
“Si.” You chirped. He turned from the stove looking at you with regretful umber eyes. You shot him an assuring smile. He quickly lifted his arm and you took the cue to nuzzle yourself against him.
“Sorry for being an ass last night.” He murmured, kissing the top of your head. You looked up at him placing your lips against his.
“It’s alright.” You whispered against him. “I should’ve laid off and been more supportive of how you were feeling.”
“No, you were right. I did make that call.” He tossed a fat slice of French toast onto a plate with eggs. “I just didn’t want to hear it last night. I’ve never been taken off a job before, guess I was just embarrassed about what you’d think of me.” He mumbled so low you almost didn’t catch it. His cheeks were flushed from the level of vulnerability he felt he was showing.
“I understand.” You smiled again. You took his heated face in your hands pressing quick and hard kisses against his cheek, enjoying the way they darkened.
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He was throughly exhausted. No matter what he did everything had either gone wrong or made no impact whatsoever. That’s why as soon as he got in the door his hands were at your sides, picking you up and holding you against him. He buried his face in your shoulder, inhaling deeply. He could feel the tense muscles in his back already loosen.
“Hi Cap.” You smiled, resting your head against his broad shoulder.
“I never want to hear the word Captain ever again.” He grumbled, causing you to smile.
“Tough time?” You questioned, he nodded his head, keeping it buried in your neck. He flopped down on the couch keeping you tight in his lap. He sleepily told you vaguely about what had happened. How the enemy seemed to constantly be one step ahead of him. Now no one can deny John was great at his job, but he was starting to feel the pressure. Starting to feel like he wasn’t good enough. That maybe he was loosing his magic touch. He told you this- not exactly in those words, but enough for you to get the idea.
“Sorry you feel that way.” You sighed. He waited patiently for you to continue.
“That’s it?” He huffed. You raised your head from his shoulder.
“What?”
“That’s all I get?” He repeated.
You chuckled dryly. “What do you want me to say?” You scoffed.
“I don’t know.” His eyes darted around the room. “Maybe a ‘You’ll pull through John.’ Anything is better than ‘sorry you feel that way’.” He chided. You pulled yourself off his lap, and he let you.
“Didn’t know you needed that type of assurance.” Of course you knew he would come through in the end. He was Captain John Price. He rubbed his face with his hands, getting up from the couch with a grunt.
“I think I should sleep in the guest room tonight.” He sighed. You opened your mouth to stop him but nothing came. He waited by the doorway like he was expecting something too. With another sigh he disappeared down the hallway.
You groaned and buried your face into the couch cushion. You didn’t mean to come across so uncaring. You loved this man more than anything, of course you wanted to be there for him. You had always struggled with the brain to mouth connection, that’s one of the things you loved about John. How quickly he and gracefully was able to make that connection. Bitting your lip you pulled yourself off the couch, making your way to the guest room.
You knocked at the open door. He was sprawled out on the bed, still fully clothed. His deep breathing made you wonder if he had already fallen asleep. His eyes panned over to you.
“Yes, sweetheart?” God he could never be mad at you could he? You walked over to him slowly, kneeling on the bed.
“I’m sorry.” You said softly. Your hand slowly left your thigh and rested against his stomach. He reached down and grabbed it, pressing a hard kiss against your knuckles. He leaned up on his elbow and you couldn’t resist the urge to wrap your arms around his shoulders and bury your face in his neck. He chuckled softly and laid back down holding you tightly against him.
“S’alright.” He assured, kissing your temple.
“No it wasn’t. Of course you’re going to make it through it. You always do.” You said, kissing his cheek. You could feel him smile against your forehead.
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
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“You don’t think I’m right?” Johnny urged. His body was hot and he had been cracking the same knuckles over and over since you had gotten home.
“I don’t know Jo.” You shrugged, grabbing a glass from the cabinet.
“Cut the shite.” He growled. “Do you or do you not think I’m right?”
It had all started earlier when the two of you went out on your weekly date night. You both decided it would be fun to try bowling, the only problem was you were sharing the lane with a bunch of men who took a little too much advantage of the bar. They weren’t handsy or inappropriate by any means, just very concerned about making sure you got a strike. They offered you a plethora of tips and tricks and when one of them stood a little to close to you (for Johnny’s liking anyway) he lost it. He gave the guy a hard shove and dragged you out of there, with the prize counter lady yelling at the two of you to never come back. Johnny had taken your silence as disagreement for the way he had acted. He’ll admit that maybe he did over react, but what was he suppose to do? He swore that guy was about to touch you, and who does he think he is anyways? You were obviously with Johnny so why did they all think it was okay to interject themselves into your game? This is the explanation he gave you.
“I don’t know Johnny.” You groaned again. He growled low in his throat, running a hand through his hair.
“Why is this so hard for you, huh? You either agree that I made the right choice or you thought I was an ass. Which one is it?” He pressed. His fiery blue eyes bore into yours. His passion was was always so intense, it never failed to overwhelm you.
“Why are you trying to fight, Johnny?” You mumbled. You could feel tears prick your eyes and you hoped that he would notice them and shut himself down.
“Answer me!” He shouted his hand slamming itself against the counter. The tears finally fell, along with his heart. “Shite.” He said quickly. You hid your face in your hands. “I’m sorry, bon.” He whispered quickly. He took a few slow steps towards you, like he was approaching a skittish deer. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
It was true. The man would jump in front of a bus for you without a second thought. He was just so hot-headed and stubborn.
“I know.” You mumbled. His hand gently reached out resting against your arm. When you didn’t pull away he took it as an ‘okay’ and pulled you against him.
“I’m sorry.” He repeated, tucking you under his chin. “I just get so feisty when it comes to you. I need to work on it, I know.”
You nodded your head in agreement letting yourself relax against him.
Bon= shortened version of Bonnie
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He had just spent the last thirty minutes venting to you and all you had to say was,
“That sucks.”
He had just gotten back home from the store and he didn’t even bother pulling the groceries out of the car before he was charging in madder than you had ever seen him. He had gotten into a road rage incident. Some lady cut him off- almost damaging his beloved car in the process, so naturally he gave her a little honk with his horn. The woman proceeded to break check him. Luckily he was far enough away that he didn’t rear end her, but she didn’t seem to know that. She got out of her car yelling at him for hitting her even though there was obviously a few inches of space between the two cars. She demanded he call his insurance company, which he refused because no damage was done and it was pretty obvious she did it one purpose. The situation just continued to escalate from there.
He’d been with you for over two years now so he knew you weren’t much of a talker- but he expected a little more out of you then that. Especially when you saw how shaken up he was from the encounter.
“Could you imagine?” He continued, hoping to spark some sort of feedback from you. You just nodded your head in agreement.
“Groceries still in the car?” You asked. His eyes widened, and he stiffed from his spot on the couch. “Serious?”
“What?” Your brows furrowed at his expression,
“A ‘that sucks’ and ‘groceries’ is all I’m going to get out of you?”
You picked at your fingers and shrugged. He ran a hand down his face.
“Yeah, the groceries are still in the car.” He sighed, standing up from the couch. You watched quietly as he trudged to the bedroom the door closing softly behind him.
It had been a solid hour since you had seen him. You had put the groceries away and even began to make dinner by the time he appeared again. You hoped that by making his favorite stir fry you would be back in his good graces.
“Smells good.” He commented, sitting at the kitchen island. “I called Cap.” He said suddenly. You looked up from the wok sending him a small smile. “He said he’d use her plate numbers and add an unpaid parking ticket on her record.” You both chuckled. He slowly stood up and made his way over to you, resting his chin on your shoulder. “He also said I should apologize to you.” He hummed, kissing the skin your tank top strap didn’t cover.
“You don’t have to.” You interrupted. “I should apologize, Ky. Anyone would be shaken by that experience and I just brushed it off. I’m sorry.” You could feel him smile against your skin. His hands rested on your hips, turning you around to face him.
“I shouldn’t have taken it out on you though. I’m a natural talker and sometimes I forget how the other half live.” He snickered, kissing you lips quickly. You pulled him back down attaching you lips back to his.
What’s wrong with me that I love angst so much? Thank you anon for your kind words and this awesome request! I seriously enjoyed writing this!
1K notes · View notes
sitp-recs · 28 days
Note
do you have any recs for drarry + workplace romance?
I definitely do, one of my favourite tropes! This list is strongly focused on office romance and as you can see it got a bit out of hand so I’m gonna link two additional rec lists that might interest you: sports AU and Quidditch fics. Enjoy!!!
Measure My Lordship With Thine Vulgar Aye by @starquestingfordrarry (M, 1k)
Draco buys some Muggle magnets for the office.
Coded Office Missives by carpemermaid (E, 2.5k)
They had an arrangement. Malfoy would send a coded memo when he needed Harry. He knew to tell his secretary to hold his appointments, and lock the door after he arrived. It was a game they started when they were just starting their careers at the Ministry; it’s something they’ve kept up all this time.
The Keepers by RenVeree (T, 3.6k)
In the Rare Books Department of the Ministry of Magic, Draco tends to unique texts and, on occasion, a certain Unspeakable.
Graffiti and Insomnia by SilentAuror (M, 4k)
Harry can't seem to sleep these days. Perhaps it's the boredom of his office job, but all that changes with a bit of graffiti in the office bathroom one day.
Never Gonna Give You Up by InnerLilith (E, 5k)
Five times Harry rickrolls Draco and one time Draco gets him back.
Like This and Like This (Dreams of Lace) by @primavera-cerezos (E, 6k)
Harry gets an accidental peek. He can’t think of anything else.
Say the words / then stay around by Teatrolley (NR, 6k)
They’ve been together for a while when Harry decides that he wants to try the Auror Office again. What he doesn’t consider is the effects the work might have on the two of them. But, then again, maybe those effects don’t have to be all bad?
Interdepartmental Memos by GoldenTruth813, Henndra (E, 6k)
What do you get when GoldenTruth813 plays Harry and Henndra is Draco? An epistolary fic of course!
Contretemps by @moonflower-rose (T, 8k)
Draco Malfoy has been living like a model citizen. If only he could convince Potter.
Small Spaces series by @bixgirl1 (E, 8.5k)
Malfoy is like an itch under Harry's skin on an average day. It's even worse when they're trapped in a lift.
Love, Actually, is All Around by @punk-rock-yuppie (T, 10k)
It's Christmastime, and Harry has just started as the new Minister of Magic. It just so happens that Draco works in his office as well, a holdover from Kingsley's tenure. Naturally, love is in the air.
Settle in in my slow-burning heart, orphaned (NR, 10k)
Five years after the war Draco is working a tech developer job in the Auror Office, and it's all great except this one thing: Harry Potter works there, too. Things only become stranger when Harry starts bringing Draco ugly souvenirs back from his work travels.
Sweet Indulgence by @the-sinking-ship (E, 10k)
It doesn't matter that Marcy from Accounting is dancing on the tables, Shacklebolt is wearing antlers, and Elliot from Transportation is on his third round of Mariah Carey on karaoke because all the free champagne in the world won't salvage the Ministry Christmas party for Draco if Potter doesn't show up soon.
Little Talks by Femme and noeon (E, 11k)
Draco's been shagging the Head Auror for months now, and he's sure it's just a fling. Until Harry asks him to a Quidditch match, that is, and things go horribly wrong.
This Unexpected Windfall by mindabbles (E, 11k)
Harry doesn’t like it when Draco is called in to work one of his cases. No. He doesn’t like it at all — at least that’s what he tells himself.
Crossed Wires by @skeptiquewrites (E, 11k)
Harry James Potter, Member of the Wizengamot for Godric’s Hollow, Secretary for Transport is ill-suited for the world of wizarding politics. Enter Draco Malfoy, Director of Communications for the Minister for Magic to moonlight as his press secretary. It should solve all of Harry’s issues with the press and Draco’s issues with over-work. Theoretically.
What Real Thing? by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (E, 12k)
They don’t cuddle, they don’t talk about their relationship (or lack thereof) and they certainly never fall asleep in each other’s arms.
Title of Their Sex Tape by @cibeewastaken (T, 12k)
What are the Wizarding world's most elite law enforcers doing when they aren't catching criminals? It seems Auror Malfoy is often caught throwing food into Auror Potter's mouth when he's mid-yawn.
In Which Harry is Magnetic North and Draco Is An Idiot by bryoneybrynn (T, 13k)
For as long as he can remember, Draco’s been bringing fake dates to his family’s annual Yuletide celebration in order to evade his mother’s matchmaking. This year, Potter’s posing as his pretend boyfriend.
The World of Management (Or, Harry Potter and the Office Romance) by @moonflower-rose (E, 15k)
Draco Malfoy is the heart and soul of the Department of Magical Games and Sport. The only thing standing in the way of professional bliss is his boss. And Harry Potter.
Give Me a Quiet Mind by @wellhalesbells (T, 16k)
Draco is Weasley’s assistant. Except for the week he’s not. Whose brilliant idea was that again?
Ardour of Karma by @xx-thedarklord-xx (E, 17k)
“Malfoy knows something is going on with you and unless you both want to go back to fighting and death glares, you should fix it.” “How do I do that? Just waltz up to him and say, ‘I know I’ve been a prat but your scent makes my dick swell. How’s your day?’”
Common and Cliché by bryoneybrynn (E, 17k)
Aurors Malfoy and Potter have to work a case on Beltane. It would be simple if everything wasn't so damn distracting.... For those of you who are wondering, yes, I've tried to cram in as many h/d clichés as possible. But hopefully the story works as a story, too. It's not crack!fic by a long shot but it is a bit tongue-in-cheek.
Knot Your Average Coworkers by @thecouchsofa (E, 22k)
It takes Harry a while to work out that every month, almost like clockwork, Draco is given an assignment in the field that takes him out of their shared office for days on end. After each assignment, Draco returns looking so bloody exhausted that Harry gears up to file a complaint with their boss.
Little Red Courgette by @blamebrampton (T, 31k)
When this season's purple courgettes are woefully thin, Draco Malfoy thinks it amounts to small beans. Next thing he knows, the Department of Standards is over-run with leeks, Brussels sprouts all sorts of legislative difficulties, and somebody appears to have put a roquette under Harry Potter.
The Vanishing Department by @dictacontrion (E, 47k)
The things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, even if that involves a lot more form-filling, bickering, covert glancing, miscommunication, and flying furniture than we might expect.
The Darkness Before the Dawn by Ren (E, 55k)
A mysterious creature is loose in London, stalking and killing people. Auror Harry Potter requests the help of a liaison from the Beast Division and gets saddled with Draco Malfoy. Will they be able to stop the creature before it claims more lives?
We Are Young (I'll Carry You Home Tonight) by Femme (E, 70k)
Harry and Draco have been falling into bed on and off again since the last election five years ago, much to the amusement--and financial gain--of their circle of friends. But when Harry agrees to work with Draco to put Kingsley Shacklebolt into the Minister's office, they can't work side-by-side again every day and sleep together; that would be courting disaster. Wouldn't it?
The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (T, 103k)
This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine.
Make This Leap by @oflights (M, 118k)
Harry owns a struggling restaurant which is running out of money, and his Head Chef has just handed in notice. He's at a bit of a loss as to what to do until Narcissa Malfoy presents an obvious solution: bring in Draco Malfoy as Chef and part owner.
All Our Secrets Laid Bare by firethesound (E, 149k)
Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.
Tales From the Special Branch series by Femme (E, WIP)
When Gawain Robards asks him to form Special Branch seven-four-alpha, Harry Potter knows they'll have to work outside the confines of the law--even though they are the law.
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jksprincess10 · 11 months
Text
Fix it  || Din Djarin x reader
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Summary: Your mandalorian asks you to clean his suit. Reader is someone who fixes anything and is nicknamed “Fix” in this. No physical description is given. (3k words)
CW: maskless!din with face reveal, tattooed!din, petnames (mesh’la) pwp, breeding kink, oral (f and mreceiving), fingering, manhandling, praise, lots of fluff (they’re kinda in love with each other ok)
A/N: This takes place after s2. Din still has the razor quest and hasn’t been redeemed yet.
Masterlist
Part 2
Life on Nevarro was mostly quiet for you. You had made a name for yourself as the local smith and the person who could pretty much fix any piece of weapon and armor. You were living in a tiny grey stone house, the bottom of it was your workshop and the top floor was your little nook; a tiny apartment big enough just for yourself. Your workshop had accumulated tons of foreign materials, dust, tools you had inherited from your deceased father and dirt. So much dirt. No matter how many times you cleaned the workshop, it became dirty again in seconds. Your work wasn’t the most delicate. But you liked this life.
You often met adventurers and people from the Guild; they all came and went as the moon cycles went on. They were mostly all forgettable, a mass of young people looking for a thrill and a good kill. But there was one… who stepped in your workshop a few times. And this one, you couldn’t forget about.
You finished wiping clean the chest plate you had fixed for a client when you heard the bell ring, triggered by the quick opening of the door. Your turned around and wiped your hands on your leather apron, stopping in your tracks when you saw him. The one you couldn’t forget about.
He was still broad; shoulders the size of a door, and still masked. His usual shining armor was… dulled by a substance you couldn’t quite identify. He was here. Your Mandalorian.
“Well, well, didn’t expect you so soon.” You teased, even though you were pleased by his presence.
With a heavy thump, the Mandalorian sat on the worn chair destined for your clients. You approached slowly to examine his armor.
“I found myself in a… sticky situation.” You could sense the grimace he was making under the intimidating visor. Your fingers barely touched his shoulder pads, and you discovered a slimy, neon-green substance.
“Gross.” You grimaced as you wiped your hand on your apron.
“I know this might not be part of your usual services, but do you have anything to clean the beskar? Your price is mine, Fix.” Fix was your little nickname, everyone called you like that. Not many people knew your actual name, and you were okay with it.
Mando always offered credits, but you rarely made him pay. He would always find a way to sneak more than enough credits on your stone table before he left. Last time… he even took you out to diner, well, he didn’t eat, because he couldn’t take off the helmet, he just looked at you while you engulfed what he bought you. And you had finished the night on his ship, making yourself cum again and again on his thigh as he never took off anything. He simply encouraged you, clothed hands touching every part of you that was accessible to him. That night felt like a fever dream that you couldn’t forget. You felt your cheeks heating up at the memory, and you fiddled with the large pockets of your apron.
“I do. I might have every cleaning product for every metal in the galaxy.” You smiled. You inspected his armor closely. It seemed like it was even sticky under, on his flight suit. And his helmet… you didn’t know how he could even see. “But I have… bad news.” You looked at him up and down. “I think I might have to clean… everything. It seems to be sticky everywhere. I know it’s not… ideal, but you will have to take off the whole thing, I’m afraid. Do you have a change of clothes and helmet?”
You saw how tense his shoulders got. “I don’t. Is there… any other way?”
“I’m afraid not, Mando. Can’t clean it good enough if it’s on your body. It will most likely need to soak for a while.” You went to the door and turned the sign to “closed” and locked the door. “No one will see you here. You can trust me.”
You heard a modulated groan. “Fine. Turn around.” You did, and tightly closed your eyes. You heard the shuffle of fabric, the heavy sound of beskar meeting the ground. Finally, a hissing sound. In your time having him as a client, you didn’t even dare try to imagine what he looked like under his armor. Even when you two were intimate. But there he was, so close, flesh unveiled. You pushed the thought away.
“There. Everything is on your table.” Hearing his real voice set a fire in your stomach. It was just as deep, but more… human. He felt so… real.
You took a big breath in. Out. And opened your eyes, facing the table. Tense, you took a few steps to your table and got to work. You let the suit soak first in a small basin you always filled with water in case something needed cleaning. Even touching the fabric felt inappropriate, too intimate.
“Isn’t it taboo… taking off your helmet, Mando?”
“It is… prohibited. But I am already deep in sin and on the way to redemption.”
“I see.” You took a can of product, shook it, and sprayed a generous amount on the chest plate. “Where’s the little green munchkin?” You asked as you rubbed the metal vigorously, dissolving some of the sticky substance.
“He is… away.” You heard the sadness in his voice, so you didn’t ask more questions.
“It seems to be coming off.” You said. “But it might take a while.” The beskar was already shinier and more reflective. Through the metal, you could see the hint of silhouette; tan, scarred skin, decorated by dark tattoos. “Fuck.” You pushed the armor piece away, which fell heavily to the ground, and closed your eyes. You felt a mixture of guilt and arousal in your gut.
You heard him get up; step closer.
“Is everything okay, Fix?”
“Y-Yes! You might… be more comfortable upstairs. Make yourself at home. I will call you when it’s ready and I’ll get out so you can put your clothes back on.”
The Mandalorian agreed quietly and took the stairs to your living space. When he was out of the way, you sat down for a few seconds, breathing heavily. You saw what you shouldn’t have seen. When your breathing got back to normal, you got back to work.
You scrubbed all the armor pieces until your hands hurt. You washed the heavy fabric of his suit and set it to dry under your industrial fan. Outside your door, you could see that the sun had already set. But Mando never bothered you once. He was probably used to long, quiet days on his ship.
You washed your hands thoroughly from the slimy liquid and wiped away the sweat from your forehead.
“Mando, it’s almost dry.” You shouted from downstairs. “But… before you get down here, I have… to tell you something.”
“Did you break something, Fix?”
“I didn’t.”
“Good.”
“But… I saw your reflection, earlier.”
Silence for a few seconds, then you heard him come down. You immediately closed your eyes.
“Mando, I’m still down here!” You protested. You were going to make a run for it, but you felt warm hands holding your wrists. “I’m sorry I’ll – I’ll gauge my eyes out. I… barely saw anything.”
“Open your eyes, mesh’la.”
“But – ”
“Open them. Remember what I said? I’m already deep in sin.” He said firmly.
Your eyes fluttered open and your irises adjusted to the darkness. The man was only wearing his dark underwear, he was completely vulnerable under your gaze. You took all of him in, as he waited nervously. You didn’t think you’d see a warrior like him get nervous under your gaze. Maybe he always was, and his armor hid it. You admired his strong legs. His generous groin. The scars on his stomach. His broad chest, marked by dark tattoos. His strong arms equally marked. His throat hinting at his nervousness. His jaw, dressed in a scratchy, dark beard. Plush, inviting lips under a mustache. A prominent nose.
“Say something.” He pleaded.
Your eyes met his, big, brown, and almost teary. He had dark, wild curls. You took his cheeks between your hands, feeling the warm flesh under your fingers. He was so… real.
“You’re handsome, Mando.”
He let out a sigh of relief.
“Din. Call me Din, please.”
“Come here, Din.” You smirked and pulled him impossibly closer, wrapping your legs around his middle. Strong arms helped pulling you up, hands holding your ass. You whispered your real name in the shell of his ear, and he smiled, letting your beautiful name rest on his tongue. A secret for another. You saw his physical restraint and hesitation for a few seconds, until he let go.  Plush lips met yours with extreme caution, like he hadn’t done this in a long time. And truth be told – he hadn’t, since he was a little boy. Every time he had intimacy, it was with the barrier of a helmet and partial clothing. Your hands kept him close. Din trapped you against the nearest wall, and you moaned in his lips, deepening the kiss. Butterflies were flying in your belly, making you want and love.
Clumsy hands undid your apron, and it fell to the ground. You both gasped for air, but your lips couldn’t leave him for long, and you kissed every parcel of flesh available to you. Your feet met the floor momentarily so you could undress to his level; overalls and shirt gone. He took in the beautiful, clear vision of your body, one he could see without the constant darkness of the visor.
“Gorgeous, mesh’la…” He breathed.
You felt your cheeks heating up. Your hands guided his, placing them over your breasts, which he caressed with feather-like touches.
“You won’t break me.” You said softly. “Don’t be scared, Din.”
He squeezed the flesh lightly, before he undid your bra. You slid the clothing off your arms. He pulled you back up in his arms, and you squealed in surprise when his face disappeared in your breasts.
“I want to taste every centimeter of skin.” There was this undertone of urgency, he knew your time was limited. He knew the sins couldn’t last forever. He took one of your raised nipples between his lips, sucking and nipping at it softly. Your hands found purchase in his curls, holding him close.
“Please, please, please…” You didn’t really know what you were asking for, but you wanted everything he could give. His lips let go of your raised buds, sliding up until he found your throat, where he left gentle kisses. With one hand, he got rid of your underwear. His fingers took place between your bodies. He slid two fingers across your slit, just feeling around. His index and middle fingers circled your clit, making you moan under the sudden spark of pleasure you felt. Your head went limp against the wall, mouth agape. His circles were tight, fast, until you squeezed your legs more in a silent orgasm.
Suddenly, he moved again, and your back met the cold stone surface of your worktable. Your legs laid on his broad shoulders while he kneeled, and he parted your folds with his fingers. He kissed your clit gently, before teasing it with the tip of his tongue. His hands squeezed the soft flesh of your thighs while his tongue got lost in your sweet essence.
“How did I live so long without tasting you, mesh’la…”
How did you live so long without him tasting you?
Your moans got simply louder as he circled his tongue expertly.
“Don’t stop, Din, I’m – ah, I’m so close.”
His name on your tongue was a symphony to his ears, and it only encouraged him. His moves got faster, until your thigh tried to close around his head, but his big hands were holding them open for him. You cried loudly as he lapped at your gushing juices.
“You did so good for me.” He praised in a raspy voice.
Din watched as your stomach raised and fell in labored breaths. Finally, you straightened up and slid down his boxers, salivating at the sight of his muscled thighs and raised cock.
“Wanna taste you, please.” You begged.
You got down from your table as he took off his boxers completely, and immediately met the ground with your knees. Maybe sitting naked in your workshop wasn’t the smartest move, but you didn’t care in the moment. Mando held on to the nearest wall as you greedily took all of him in your mouth, eager to taste him.
“Kriff, mesh’la, slow down…” His fingers tugged on your hair, and you let his cock fall out of your mouth completely, before licking up a stripe on his member. You watched as the strong warrior whimpered and closed his eyes. Slowly, you took the head between your lips and sucked softly. He bucked his hips up uncontrollably, pushing himself further in your mouth. You swallowed around him and bobbed your head up and down in a regular pace. You didn’t expect Din to be so… loud, but you appreciated hearing his moans without the modulator. He let you control him, until he pushed you away, out of breath.
“Am I not doing a good job?” You asked innocently.
“Stars, yes, you are. I wanna make love to you, come here.” His hands grabbed you and he pulled you back up. You wrapped your legs around him as he switched your positions, making your back rest against the cold wall.
He aligned his length with your hole, pushing slowly until he buried himself completely in you. You hadn’t felt a man like this in so long – and it was a stretch, but you it became pleasant after a few seconds, when your walls molded to him. He looked down at you, sparkling brown irises and smile on his lips.
“You’re taking me so well. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He asked.
“Hmhm. But I wanted this for so long, Din…”
Din’s lips latched onto yours, in a delicate and slow kiss. While you were distracted with his tongue, he started moving his hips slowly.
“How long, mesh’la?” He asked as his head rested on your shoulder and he thrusted deeply. You moaned and wrapped your arms around him, scared of falling.
“Ever since… you first came here to fix your… old armor…”
“Why didn’t you ask before?”
“Thought it was… prohibited.”
As if he was punishing you, he went faster and deeper.
“There are… ways around it.”
His hands grabbed your hips firmly as he fucked you dumb, the sounds of your skin clapping together filling the room. Without any warning, you tightened around him and it sent him over the edge. He cursed as he shot ropes of his cum in your cunt.
Both out of breath, he let you down and watched as his spend trailed down your thighs.
“I’ll…. Go wash up. Come upstairs with me?”
He agreed and followed you up the stairs. You took a few minutes for yourself in the bathroom; washing down there and convincing yourself that it wasn’t a dream.
Another confirmation was when you came out of the restroom to your bedroom and saw Din laying naturally on your bed, like he had always been there. He looked so pretty like this, in the low light coming through your window. Skin painted gold, some of it scarred with symbols. You laid beside him on your bed, your head laying on his broad chest. It would probably be the last time you would feel the warmth of his flesh.
“When are you doing your… redemption?” You asked as your finger traced some of his tattoos.
“As soon as possible. Why?”
Sadness suddenly filled your being.
“So… this is the last time I can have you like this?” You lifted your chin to look at him. He frowned when he saw the tears forming in your eyes.
“Unless… you become my riduur.”
“Your… wife?”
“There is time, mesh’la. I will keep breaking things and bringing them to you. You can have me in other ways, like before.”
“I’ll… miss your face. But I know the Creed matters to you.” You smiled and caressed his cheek. “I will consider the other option, though.”
“Let’s make the most of it, then.”
Din rolled over you with a wicked smile, trapping your body between the bed and him. You squealed when he bit affectionately the skin of your neck. You looked down and saw that he was already half hard. You caressed him lazily to help with the situation as your lips found his in a soft kiss.
“Oh, by the way… I have an implant, if that matters.” You whispered against his mouth as you pushed him away slightly.
“Perfect. Although….” He caressed your stomach. “I wouldn’t mind fucking a baby into you, mesh’la.”
His words made your cheeks heat up, which made him smile widely. His hand caressed your cheek while he whispered. “Do you wanna… go again?”
“Yes.” You wrapped your legs around around his middle, his hips taking place between your thighs. He pumped his member a few times, before inserting in between your tight walls. His eyes weren’t leaving your face; he wanted to keep a photograph of your blissed face in his mind. You looked at him too, even though you were tired, registering every crinkle, every hair, every pore on his face. Din fucked you slowly, his body close to yours and his lips almost never leaving you. You memorized his scent, his voice.
Moments later, it was time for goodbyes. You watched Din as he put his suit back on, clean armor and all. The helmet hissed and took its rightful place.
“You did a great job. Thank you, Fix.” He said as he tipped his helmed towards you. You kissed the top of it with a smile.
“You’re welcome. Please… come back soon.”
He wrapped an arm around you to hug you probably for too long, before heading towards his ship. You watched as he left, still feeling filled with his warmth and love.  
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saltysultry · 2 months
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I don’t think I’ve ever seen ship policing in any fandom as hostile as the policing in the Hazbin fandom. Since when did canon matter when it came to ships? Since when did the OG source material and what the creator says affect anyone’s ships? Did people forget that ships have no affect on the canon material and therefore remain harmless and insignificant? Did people forget that shipping is only fantasy and cannot actually harm anyone?
“bUt ThEyRe EnEmIeS!!1!1!” So? Shipping enemies isn’t new nor does it “erase” the original dynamic in the source material. It’s one of the most popular ship dynamics!
“iTs QuEeR eRaSuRe!!1!1!” No ship is as strong enough to overtake OG source material to erase anyone’s canon sexuality. Also, regarding Alastor, Aro-Ace is a spectrum. His canon sexuality shouldn’t affect anyone’s fantasy (because shipping is, again, just fantasy).
Never has any character’s canon sexuality stopped someone from creating fan material of their own ship and I don’t see why this “ship policing” is enforced in this fandom. Let us not forget, none of these characters are REAL! Queer representation doesn’t hang in the balance of how Hazbin characters are “properly shipped” amongst fans. If anyone’s ship bothers you, you don’t have to engage in it or support it. If you feel strongly enough to have to bully someone or call their art ugly because you don’t like it, go outside and start talking to real people. Please.
And my last note, coming from someone who is ace, who’s had a rough journey trying to figure out their own sexuality and struggled so long with labeling (because everyone’s obsessed with labels), STOP SPEAKING FOR US! Alastor’s canon Aro-Ace being tampered with among shippers doesn’t need to be your hill to die on!
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hot-take-tournament · 2 months
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Nothing annoyed a younger me more than opening ao3 to look up my favourite character only to find so many fics that were so contradictory to how he’d actually act (mostly for the sake of shipping, but the way fandom sometimes treats m/m parings and feels the need to shove them into certain roles and traits is a completely different conversation that I will not be getting into)
I think a lot of this is because of people wanting these characters to fit into tropes and stereotypes that they were never made for, so they end up stripping them of all defining characteristics so they can fit the perfect mould, which is more of a bigger issue with fandom as a whole rather than a couple people mischaracterising my blorbo
But honestly? Good for them, it may be annoying, but they’re doing something creative that makes them happy and there is nothing more beautiful than that
I’m all for people doing whatever they want forever and if that means wildly mischaracterising my favourite guy, then go ahead and have a blast I’m genuinely happy for you, even though I can’t stand it and it makes me die a little on the inside
Something I will never get though is people trying to explain away/ justify/ just comply ignore any bad thing a character they like has done. That’s the best part of them! You’re allowed to like villains, can you really say you love them if you can’t accept them, war crimes and all?
Conclusion: make bad, cringey art. It doesn’t matter if it’s entirely self indulgent you made it for you anyway
(I still voted yes on the pole though, at that point they are just glorified oc’s, but who cares? I don’t have to read those fic’s or interact with those people at all)
on this blog we're big believers of "doing what you want forever"
but to be honest when it comes to mischaracterising i'm probably the worst for it, i'll just pick one character trait and just latch onto it permanently
like i don't even remember anything about sae niijima but whenever i put something in the microwave i still slam the table like YOU REHEATED LASAGNA YOU MUST HAVE HAD THE HELP OF A MICHELIN STAR CHEF
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shadamyheadcanons · 3 months
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For me, Shadow and Amy's dynamic is basically two different types of touch starved in a person
((If any of the gifs on this post aren’t loading for you on mobile--like they aren’t for me--you can download them or check the sources listed. As for desktop, they play just fine, but they won’t line up next to each other like they do on mobile. Tumblr is a comedy of errors.))
Yes! Absolutely. I’ve seen tons of fans say Shadow is prickly and would respond badly to hugs, but canon says otherwise. This is a bad reaction:
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[Sonic 06]
Whenever I feel like being sad, I wonder if Bad-Future-06 Silver has ever been hugged.
This is a bad reaction:
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[Sonic Unleashed, gif source.]
And I shouldn’t have to say this, but...yeah. These are very bad reactions:
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[Sonic X]
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[Sonic Generations]
Yikes. I feel bad for both of them.
But this?
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[Sonic Adventure 2, gif source.]
This is Shadow’s only canonical hug in the games, and aside from jumping slightly from being snuck up on, he seems to like it just fine.
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Just look at that smile! He’s happy. He finds it endearing.
It was a hug from a complete stranger meant for someone else, but he still drank it in--and, given that he’d effectively just lost Maria, he really did need it. It’s the combination of Amy’s gentleness AND her speech that changed his mind. After all, if someone as sweet as her sees something in the humans, maybe they’re not so bad.
My buddy who runs @shadowxamyweek recently reblogged a post about this hug, and their tags sum it up perfectly:
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[ID: A screenshot of tags on a post. The tags read:
#official art #4kids #shadow the hedgehog #amy rose #YEAH 😭 #listen I read nothing that has happened with them in SA2 as shippy - and i ship them #THIS HUG? THR SPEECH ON THE ARK? #those are two lonely kids #those are two left behind kids #those are two kids so desperate for affection #for two vastly different reasons #Amy loves with her whole chest and will never stop doing so- no matter what happens #and Shadow does too- that is key to remember- Shadow loves... so fucking much... that it hurts #you are RIGHT op when you say this is probably the first time someone has been gentle with him in a long long time #he doesn't even run away #in the game- when Amy flees- he takes a step after her- a moment's hesitation- a 'wait' #this kid NEEDED a hug #and i firmly believe part of the reason Shadow listens to Amy in the end is BECAUSE she is the only person who showed him gentleness #softness and kindness and affection #if only for a moment #fjdodhdofjgor THIS is what i mean when i say 'be gentle- be kind' #it MATTERS #it FUCKING MATTERS
End ID]
Shadow doesn’t hate hugs inherently; it’s just that no one hugs him in the first place...
...aside from one person.
Amy’s easily the most affectionate character in the cast. It’s cute at first glance, but there’s a common thread to every instance that puts a damper on it.
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She’s always, ALWAYS the initiator.
She puts more into each hug than anyone else does.
She’s always the last to pull away.
The most reciprocated Amy hug I know of in canon is this one:
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[IDW Sonic issue #22]
Which is absolutely adorable...but Amy still initiated. Because it’s always her job. Even the characters who like affection don’t need it the way she does...with one exception.
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And this tiny detail just killed me. The little, “wait, come back 😟”
It’s the only time I know of when someone has actually stepped after her like this. In a game where everyone left Amy behind, he wanted to follow her. Mister so-called-prickly didn’t want the hug to end.
Because he’s the only one who needs it as much as she does.
He wants to be held as much as she wants to hold someone else, and no one else is warm and sincere enough for it. Compare these instances:
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[IDW issue #6]
Sonic thinks Shadow is wrong about something, so he grabs Shadow’s arm to stop him, and Shadow aggressively wrenches it away and leaves.
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[Archie Sonic Universe #23]
But when Amy thinks Shadow is wrong about something and grabs his arm to stop him, he gently removes her hand and thinks about what she has to say.
Even when he doesn’t want to be touched, he makes the distinction between “don’t touch me” and “not right now, please.” These are from two different continuities, of course, but I think the point stands. Amy’s special. He’s gentler with her than he is with other people, and that’s consistent across all canons.
Side note: how often does Amy get to feel special like that? I actually really like that Sonic doesn’t place others in a hierarchy of importance, and I wouldn’t change that about him even if I could...
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[IDW issue #2]
...but Amy does play favorites. I want her to feel like she’s someone else’s favorite, too. I want her to have someone who puts her first and likes her best. I think Shadow’s more than capable of that. I believe he craves clinginess like hers deep down, even if he hasn’t consciously figured that out yet.
I have an entire tag for these two being affectionate. My favorite is probably this one.
Of course, there may be those who say I’m reading too much into one (1) hug. And you know what? Maybe they’re right! We need a bigger sample size. Sega, make more characters hug Shadow, please. Let Rouge comfort him after he confides in her about something. Have Omega give him an awkward metal embrace because he read on the internet that organic beings like that kind of thing. Make Shadow himself pull Silver into a hug when he’s breaking down crying from the stress of always having to be a hero. Show Tails accidentally grab onto him out of fear when they’re trapped in a lightning storm, and when he gets embarrassed and pulls away, have Shadow hold him for the rest of the storm and admit he’s not fond of bright lights, either.
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[Sonic Boom]
That scene where Shadow and Amy rescue Cream and Cheese from Cryptic Castle? That easily could’ve turned into a cute group hug.
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[Shadow the Hedgehog (2005)]
And I have seen some absolutely adorable fanart where he holds Cream’s hand while he and Amy lead her through Cryptic Castle to make sure she doesn’t get lost 🥺
Have Knuckles give him an empathetic bro-pat on the shoulder when he finds out Shadow’s the last one of his race, too.
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[Archie Sonic Universe #89]
Have Sonic try to hug him, and then when Shadow inevitably pushes him away and says he doesn’t do hugs, have Amy arrive and latch onto Shadow instead while he tries to stutter out an excuse as to why she’s allowed to and Sonic isn’t.
The most affection Shadow has in recent history is stuff like this...
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[Sonic Prime season 2 episode 1]
...where Sonic tries to hug him and Shadow immediately pushes him away, knocks him over, and tries to punch him in the face. Kind of says it all. Amy stands out as the only one with a good track record here.
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[IDW issue #36]
Especially when you have him look at her like this when someone else is on the receiving end of that affection.
So in the absence of further evidence, I have no choice but to interpret this in the most Shadamy way possible. Your move, Sega.
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a-certain-romance · 10 months
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She can hardly wait
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Characters/Ships: Yae Miko x fem!reader & Dehya x fem!reader
Synopsis:
Warnings: Smut written by a minor, a/b/o dynamics (both) possessive tendencies (Miko), biting (Miko), fangs (Miko), mentions of blood (Miko), Praise (Dehya), Riding (Deyha)
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In actuality, you had nothing against not wanting Miko to help you through your heat. But you couldn’t help but be somewhat wary of the person she would become when the cycle gets to her.
So when your heat came around the corner and you avoided her as best as you could, this sly fox decides to make no interference whatsoever. If you really think you can handle it alone, so be it. She won’t stop you. Miko knows you’ll need her eventually. It’s only a matter of time until you come crawling to her with tears in your eyes.
In fact, she’ll do things to purposely tease the shit out of you. Showing off her legs more, whispering in your ear with a breathy voice, lingering touches too close for comfort. “I’m sure you must have a good reason to keep this from me. But dear, wouldn’t your rather let me take it from here, hmm?”
She wants you to beg for it. Her favorite part about this whole process is how weak and willing you would undoubtedly become. Miko can smell your desire from a mile away so it’s only a matter of time. She finds this whole idea laughable. What am I going to do, break you? She’s debating it.
It’s all fun and games to her. That is until, your scent starts to attract the attention of others. Left and right, men & women approach you more often, offering their their “assistance” to help satisfy their your needs.
And it ticked Miko off. Tch, like they can do any better. Perhaps she spent too much watching you tremble and not enough time doing anything about it. It’s about time she gives you what you’ve been aching for.
“My, you are desperate little thing” her index finger slides slowly down your stomach. “Tell me. Would you have said yes to them? Those faceless scoundrels who don’t know you like I do.”
“Never, Miko—“
“That’s right, because you’re mine. I’m the only one who can make you feel this good” She taps her finger firmly at your entrance in a familiar pattern. Three, two, one…one, two, three.
“Alright, I believe I’ve teased you long enough. It’s about time to let the world know who you belong to, don’t you think?”
Her pointed teeth pierce the skin right above your collarbone. At the same time, Miko slides the end of her cock past your folds. With that, every sensation becomes heightened. Even though it’s only the tip, you arch yourself close to her.
“Well aren’t you needy” She swipes a bit of blood off her pointed fangs as she smirks down at you. “It’s only just the tip. I’ve barley touched you yet.” Miko leans down to lick your wound clean.
“There. If anyone should dare to defy this mark, they shall answer to me. Now let’s finish this, shall we?”
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Dehya on the otherhand is the polar opposite of Miko. She would drop everything to be with you if you called for her. She’s on you in seconds the minute she smells you flare up. Deyha’s managed to keep track of the time of your cycles so she can prepare accordingly. She’s been with you long enough to know the signs: flushed cheeks paired with a stronger scent and a little bit of extra clinginess. It makes her wonder why you’re hiding this time around.
Deyha brings a bag of overnight clothes to your place where you’ve been isolating yourself. She finds you huddled in a pile of blankets, sweating profusely. Only this time it wasn’t because of Sumeru’s intense weather.
“Missed me?”
You mumble out a response to which she shakes her head at. Before tending to your sexual needs, she forces you to drink a cup of water and removes a few blankets from your bed so they won’t get in the way later. You explain afterwards how Dehya’s involvement with Sumeru’s chaos lead to you decide to go through this one on your own since she seemed preoccupied with other matters. She lightly scolds you for not mentioning this sooner. Dehya doesn’t stay mad for too long though. Now that she’s here, she’s going to make you spend your day and night working through your heat.
“That’s it..that’s my girl. Think you can take it all the way?” Dehya opens your legs wider around her waist and pulls you close to her chest. It never fails to shock you how she can go from pampering you to pounding you at a moment’s notice.
She groans into your neck when she bottoms out. “You’re taking my cock so well baby”. Her hand caresses your cheek, “I’ll make you feel so good. I’m gonna start thrusting now, okay?”
Her stokes are languid as you get used to the position. But your intoxicating scent triggers a rut of her own. Her breath hitches. A new feeling suddenly being awoken. She brazenly pulls you you closer by the hips to meet her thrusts. The closer you are, the further she fucks her shaft into you.
“Nnh, please just hold still for me, like a good girl would” Dehya changes the angle to hit deeper than before. The way her cock drags against your walls feels heavenly. Despite this being your heat, she’s a whimpering mess trying to please the both of you.
“Baby, you feel so good,” she whispers close to your ear, “Such a good girl. I need to—“
Her the throbbing head repeatedly knocks against your cervix. She swells, pulls out, and shoots her load on your stomach. Your slick still continues to drip from between your legs; your satisfaction not entirely met. You still need Dehya’s help. And that means you’re going to let her take you however she wants, right?
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lurkinggirlie · 3 months
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Elain & Azriel are EndGame
Azriel’s bonus chapter: semi-essay on my thoughts
This post will be a long one. The shipwar has been going on for far too long, and there's a possiblity that we'll be getting closure soon. So, I want to put my thoughts out there. For Obvious reasons, I could be very wrong, but this is what I think based on canon text: (Ignore any errors..I haven't edited this, and I'm sure there are many posts like this that are way more articulate)
Elriel are endgame. If they’re not then Azriel is kinda pathetic and having him end-up with anyone else is bad writing and character assassination. (Which we sadly won’t put past sjm but I don’t think she would..at least I hope)
1- Elain has no other love interest. Yes, Lucien is her mate but we have hinted at a broken/rejected mating bond for the longest time when it comes to these two so having them accept it eventually is going to be quite underwhelming, repetitive and boring. Even Lucien seems to have given up/isn’t interested in bridging that gap between them, which we’re told in both acofas and acosf. Unless you want to count the longing pointed out by Cassian, although Cassian also pointed out that Lucien was also uncomfortable when he mentioned his mate. To add on, there is no sexual tension between the two, and we know how important that is for sjm’s couple. You can't keep whining "but Elain isn't giving him a chance, if only she gave him a chance, then maybe this and maybe that" Elain is not a seprate entity, she is what SJM writes, Sjm could have written that but she did not yet and I'm not sure if she will. It feels too late at this point, she had already shown us that Elain has feelings for someone else aka Azriel. The author doesn't have to spell everything out for us to understand to what's going on. Sarah usually makes it clear who's endgame. and she literally is. So, it would be very sudden and out of the blue if Lucien and Elain were to end up together when she had never shown it before. When even Azriel pointed this out “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway” people can say Rhys killed elriel, that the bonus chapter ended them. But this line right here tells us otherwise! First we know Azriel and Elain can read each other so well that they don’t need words, and then Azriel tells us this. He’s literally telling us that Elain does not want Lucien.
We also cannot compare elucien to Feysand or Nessian in the “enemies to lovers" department, because these two seem to hardly care about each other. For obvious reasons she wouldn’t accept or reject Lucien in a book that isn’t hers. But if they do end up together I’d feel robbed that she had more sexual tension with Azriel than she did with Lucien. And we know that Nessian and Feysand had sexual tension before getting together. Most of what we got from Elain and Lucien was awkwardness, and discomfort. Not a single spark. Furthermore, it would feel like Azriel was just leading Elain own. Plus their romance (Lucien and Elain)  would not feel organic, only getting with Lucien because she felt rejected by Azriel, which doesn’t give epic romance no matter how sjm tries to spin it. It would always make Lucien seem like the second choice.
2- Azriel regifting the necklace was a dickhead move, and offensive to both girls. Anyone thinking the regifting of the necklace ended elriel or started gwynriel is delusional and clearly doesn’t know how the romance genre works. (should’ve thrown the gift in the Sidra like Cassain did) I can’t believe Rhys isn’t paying Azriel enough that he felt the need to return the necklace to the shop instead of throwing it. Senstive Illyrian baby indeed. 
3- Rhys saying stay away from Elain (can we take a moment to appreciate how sexy Rhys was for pulling rank, he really made the ship more interesting now) and Azriel actually listening to him?? When he told him you can’t order me to do that. shit would be underwhelming if Azriel actually stayed away? Hello? Secret relationship potential ? Hello? Forbidden romance potential  ??? The tropes would be epic. Sjm had never done that. And I’m not saying she will, but this is how I see it playing out. + Azriel saying it was a mistake to Elain, and Elain apologizing?? The fact she was confused/hurt and probably thought she misunderstood the whole situation? SHE IS BABYGIRL?? Regardless, Azriel saying it was a mistake and it being a mistake is NOT it. This is not how romance works most of the time. This is such a basic romantic trope, why are a lot of people misinterepting it? Elain deserves better, and sjm isn’t about to hurt Elain’s feelings without making it up to her. And she’s definitely not making Azriel end up with another girl before he fixes that shit. I will be needing a proper apology to Elain.  
4- Whenever people think of the bonus chapter they weigh in Azriel’s feelings far more than Elain’s. It’s clear that Elain and Azriel’s feelings are MUTUAL, ignore the bonus chapter and it’s right there in the actual book. I don’t think Elain got the memo that Azriel had  a conversation with another girl after he hurt her feelings which made him realize he’s in love all of a sudden. *sarcasm*  that would be very out of character for Azriel. 
5- His chest sparkling at the thought of Gwyn getting the necklace was so??? I have been saying he’s for the streets and yes this was out of pocket. So, I understand people shipping them. However it could mean anything really, you can't continue saying that Gwyn in the bonus has to mean something, and that that spark must mean somethig but continue to disreagrd every single Elriel interaction like they mean nothing. Because for it to be taken as romance we’d have to ignore the beginning of the bonus, the feysand’s bonus acosf/acomaf/acowar and acofas. + we could easily take this in a platonic way, which is how I viewed it when I read the bonus. Not everything has to be romantic. And sjm will NOT introduce a new guy to make him end up with Elain since we already established Elain doesn’t want Lucien and Lucien doesn’t want her either. 
6- I know that a lot of people have theories about Gwyn being a lightsinger and all of this happening because of her powers (While I do think this is very smart, it wasn’t something I thought of so I won’t talk about it). I do think it’s possible, and all the theories I saw were really cool but idk where sjm is going with this, so to make it simple I do think it could be because she’s his student, she went through a lot it could simply be platonic happiness that a girl who went through so much is going to be happy about something. Even if it was a secondhand necklace specifically picked with ANOTHER girl in mind PLUS I do think sjm wanted drama, and for people to doubt elriel cuz now they have all these obstacles, so Gwyn would be the easy choice, but the second choice regardless. The relationship would feel icky and I genuinely cannot see the potential gwynriels keep talking about. I would take the ship a lot more seriously if a) he didn’t regift her another girl’s necklace b) there was more to them in the actual book. c) he wasn’t still upset about it 3 days later… 
7- There’s a high possibility Gwyn never even got the necklace..
He gave it to Clotho not Gwyn, he didn’t want his name mentioned, and then said if any other girl would like it to give it to them: the aim was to get rid of Elain’s necklace. It’s sort of a parallel with Cassain throwing away Nesta’s present.
I think it’s possible that Azriel went there because he knows how much the girls in the library have suffered, especially since his mom did too, it's possible he thought "okay this is a pretty necklace, I don't want to hold onto the reminder of what could've been, so instead of throwing it let another girl be happy about it. At least it won’t go to waste”
Clotho could tell there was something wrong, like maybe she sensed the energy and decided ayeee let me keep this aside for him, he might come back and ask for it. 
The bonus did not happen at the end of the book 
If Azriel was truly in love with Gwyn now /or he wanted her/ or more between them was going to happen/ or they were mates according to some theories we could have AT LEAST gotten more after the bonus. 
We know the bonus happened after solstice.
Nesta mentions that Azriel was stone-faced and more aloof than usual, he wouldn’t even give her a smile. That was 3 days after the necklace situation. I think it would’ve been a great opportunity to highlight any attraction between Azriel and Gwyn.
Maybe he sees the necklace around her neck, maybe Nesta and Emerie compliment Gwyn’s necklace, or Gwyn telling them she doesn’t know who it’s from, maybe they tease her that someone might have a crush on her. Nesta could’ve pointed out that Azriel was looking at Gwyn’s necklace.or looking at Gwyn in some sort of way. Literally anything. 
Anyone pointing out the way Azriel and Gwyn looked at each other. A charged glance perhaps. Literally ANYTHING. We only got him looking at her with admiration which is very teacher coded. 
If sjm hadn’t made Nesta realize Azriel had a thing for Elain then maybe gwnyriel would’ve been more appealing to me. But no, Nesta noticed. This doesn’t mean nothing people.
aside from that we got nothing romantic, but a part of the fandom still acts like we need to exile Elain because she’s coming between Gwyn and Azriel’s epic love story.
Not everyone has access to the bonus.  
The Azriel chapter was only in ONE store in the US, but Feysand’s bonus chapter was in 3 stores in the US and UK. I don't know but something tells me it’s more important.  Soooo if SJM would do a love interest switch she would not do it in a bonus chapter, and wouldn’t be highlighting the Az/Elain interactions in ACOSF as much as she did. 
Feyre’s chapter focuses on Elain, it literally tells us Elain is next once we’re done helping Nesta. EASY MATH. and the Azriel bonus also focuses on elriel/Azriel’s feelings. ENDGAME MATERIAL RIGHT HERE. 
But the girls swear up and down that Gwyn and Azriel’s book is next because of a secondhand necklace. 
Let’s assume elriels are the delusional ones (like so many of them say), how do we explain these. 
Casual readers who usually read books and aren’t on the internet and aren’t looking for bonus content (wish that was me)  (lord knows I skipped every bonus chapter in throne of glass and crescent city and I wasn’t confused about anything. Not even once) so they’d expect answers for 
The Charged glance between Azriel and Elain
Azriel following the sound of Elain’s laughter. 
Elain looking away when Azriel smiled at her during family dinner, Cassian god bless him that idiot could NOT piece all of that together. BUT it was still highlighted through his POV ???
His secret to tell never hers (and we do learn of that secret in the bonus but people who didn’t read it could only guess so they’d want a confirmation) and sjm did say in one of her lives that Nesta learns of one of Azriel’s secrets (she looked all giddy about it)... and that Azriel is going through some shit right now…and we learn why from the bonus chapter. 
Cassian being confused that it seems like Azriel moved on from Mor
Nesta pointing out that Elain moved on from Graysen
Cassian wondering why Elain is lying about where she’s going. (I viewed this as her avoiding Azriel but idk) 
Azriel’s protectiveness of Elain. He gives mate behavior without the mate part. (I will hit him on the head though omg let my girl do something)
Elain willing to look for the troves even when Nesta wasn’t, the girl wants to do something  (her journey is coming next) 
Nesta wondering if Elain is training with Azriel or the twins (who are spies that were trained by Azriel !!!) 
Feyre telling Azriel that Elain got him beat for secret keeping. Sure it might sound delusional but Elain keeps being compared to Az/being a spy and maybe this could be a thing. 
Elain speaking back to her sisters about them treating her like a child?? Hello finally 
The way Elain’s mother only treated her like a pretty doll which shaped up Elain’s whole life??? I want this from Elain’s POV sooo bad 
In conclusion, we’re not pausing Elain’s story so Azriel can end up with a side character in a spinoff about an og side character, we’re sticking to our og side characters for now.
Azriel being over Mor because of Elain, and Elain moving on from Graysen because of Azriel only for Elain to get over Azriel to be with Lucien (who we got nothing from aside a mating bond..) and for Az to get over Elain and questioning fate for her…only to end up with gwyn…like I don’t think anyone could take Azriel’s feelings seriously if this happens. Shit will be too goofy.  Because if he ends up with Gwyn who says he won’t move on to the next pretty girl he sees afterwards.
To add to that, what plot would we have for Azriel and Gwyn. We'll get more Valkyries training, more healing journey so the plot would have to be paused for this. Nesta’s book was mostly about her healing journey and friendship, while it was nice I don’t want a repeat for the next book. Especially since we know the Rite took a toll on Gwyn, she went back to the library, wasn’t even sure she would make it to Nessian’s mating ceremony. This doesn’t give the protagonist of the next book to me. Or "I thought it was pretty obvious"
Elain’s healing journey had started in ACOWAR, she got her friends in ACOWAR. Now is their TIME to do something!! She is next. 
Closing thoughts on what I think would happen based off each ship happening: 
If elriel happens = new sjm couple dynamic/interesting plot. Fresh sjm protagonist that is unlike sjm's others + we don’t ignore all the foreshadowing and hints. We follow the love triangle we set up in the og trilogy + finally get a rejected mating bond. And instead of warrior training we might get spy training and instead of physical power (as far as we know) we get something more mental. Again this is very new for sjm + there’s a lot to Elain’s power that we don’t know and since Azriel was the one who found out what she was, I think it would make more sense for him to know how to help her. Imagine the sexual tension during training..yes please. I hope sjm doesn’t rob me. Elain is really mysterious, we got Nesta’s inner thoughts before her book but we still haven't gotten a peep about Elain’s inner thoughts and I’m just dying to know more. AND THE STAKES!
1) Rhys forbidding Azriel from Elain, 2) Elain’s mating bond,3) Azriel’s self doubt and how he doesn’t think he’s good enough. 4) The blood duel and the political mess we could get into. (Lucien probs won't but what if Beron would, the breeding potential, A seer must be a powerful thing she can see things others can't and I think that’s valuable. If Eris thought Nesta was valuable as cauldron made and there was no potential there, so The Autumn court probably feels even more entitled to Elain) We have high inner and outer stakes. I have a feeling SJM will fumble all this potential but a girl can dream 
If elucien happens = another successful mating bond + “enemies”  to lovers sort of but they won’t ever be mean to each other so maybe not enemies, just dislike and awkwardness to friends to lovers?  We ignore the hints about a rejected bond and in mating bonds we trust. We also ignore all the elriel hints, and their mutual feelings. We follow the love triangle set up in the og trilogy. I don’t think Lucien could train her in anything? Maybe self defense, Idk Sarah could pull something, but I don’t see Elain leaving her circle of friends but neither do I see Lucien settling in the night court and leaving his own friends. There are no stakes but Elain’s and Lucien’s awkwardness around each other + Elain’s feelings for Azriel. Elain’s and Lucien’s plot connects though so at least there’s that, SJM could ship them off on a mission together and make them get closer. Forced proximity sort of thing. 
If gwynriel happens then = we lost the whole plot, ignored the foreshadowing and hints found in the actual book. Mentor to lovers, civil with each other. Azriel has to move on from Elain first though and that could be icky. Healing journey, more Valkyries training. So we pick up from where we left off in acosf, and we’d see Azriel trying to get her to come out of the Library, or he goes to visit her there until she agrees to come out again. Maybe if Gwyn is a lightsinger then idk more training with Azriel? Again, no stakes but Gwyn’s trauma and Azriel’s self doubt oh and also his feelings for Elain. But that’s it, Gwyn as of now does not connect to the overall plot with the troves (she’s not made therefore she can’t use them) or koschei. So I don’t see us making her go on a mission like that. I’ve seen a lot of gwynriles saying Gwyn has spy potential idk where, but she could barely keep a secret for Nesta so I highly doubt she’d be keeping secrets for the IC. 
Ps: the original koschei plot is 3 sisters marrying 3 very powerful wizards and like idk 3 sisters 3 brothers…we can have a retelling ya know 
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