#SOBBING ON MY KNEES | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mediumgayitalian · 8 months ago

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“Did you wash your face?”

“Yes.”

“Brush your teeth?”

“Yes.”

“Brush your hair?”

“…Yes.”

As soon as he says it, he coughs. A freckled hand moves to itch at his throat, rub at slowly puffing eyes.

“You, William Andrew,” Lee says, grinning, “are a liar.”

Will scowls. “Am not!”

The effect of his glare is significantly undermined by the redness of his eyes and the cough that interrupts him mid-sentence. Shaking his head, Lee leans into his bunk and scoops his brother up, heading to the Big House. He slides his hand in tangled, curly hair as Will rests his head on his shoulder, still breathing heavily.

“I can feel the knots in your hair, doofus.”

Will curls up tighter in his hold, muffling another cough in his elbow. “Nuh-uh.” He sniffles. “Hey, Lee, am I dying?”

Lee snorts. “No, you’re not dying.” He ducks into the back entrance of the infirmary, flicking on the lights and setting Will on the counter of the nurse’s station.

Will’s brow furrows. “Then what?”

With his swollen tongue, it sounds more like ‘den wah’. Lee picks up the pace — he’s pretty sure, based on what he knows, that the reaction will go away on its own, but a little Benadryl can’t hurt.

“You’re having an allergic reaction.”

He finally finds the stash of Benadryl — who sorted the mortal meds cupboard by colour again — and grabs one of the little measuring cups. Will sees the medicine and immediately starts whining, trying to climb off the counter.

After a minute of wrangling, he manages to keep Will put with one leg over both of his, chin hooked around his shoulder to hinder any escape attempts so he can pour the medicine with both hands. (He pours one teaspoon, even though Will is eight and should be having two. He’s too small for two. It worries him, a little bit — but there is nothing in his vitals to indicate anything’s wrong, so he must just be a late bloomer. Or maybe he and Michael are just destined to remain under five feet for eternity.)

“I’m not drinking it I’m not drinking it I’m not drinking it ew ew ew ew ew —”

“Yes you are —”

“No! Gross! It’s disgusting!”

“You’ve never even had it before!”

Will looks at the tiny little cup like there are worms writhing in it. (He would probably be more willing to eat it if it was worms. Last summer he ate an ant before Lee could stop him. No one told him demigod life would involve wrangling dangerously impulsive children, and he would like a refund, please, thanks.) “I can tell.” He clamps his mouth shut, turning away. “I am not drinking it.”

“It will help you,” Lee says exasperatedly. Was he this difficult as a child? He needs to call his mother. “I can literally see you scratching your throat, you little snot.”

He shoves his hands under his thighs. “No.”

“…It’s bubblegum flavoured.”

Will turns slowly to look at him, evaluating the little cup with suspicion.

“Bubblegum?”

Lee shakes it enticingly. “Bubblegum.”

After a long, tense moment, Will nods once.

“Fine.” He accepts the little cup, bringing it up close to his face to inspect with one squinting eye. “But if it’s disgusting I’m spitting it out.”

He brings the little cup to his lips for the most delicate, most minuscule of sips, more of a dip of the tongue than anything. Lee rolls his eyes. A second later, a pleased look slots on his face, and he downs the rest of the medicine in one large gulp.

Immediately, some of the swelling reduces, and he stops breathing so laboriously.

“There you go,” Lee murmurs, smoothing back his hair. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Gods, you’re stubborn.”

He’s smiling as he says it, leaning down to press a kiss to Will’s freckled forehead. He slumps into it, sighing, arms winding their way around Lee’s neck almost shyly. Understanding the gesture for the plea that it is, Lee scoops him up again, wincing as he elbows his ribs in an effort to get comfortable, and starts putting the medicine away one-handed (by alphabet, the correct way to sort.)

“You sleepy?” he asks softly, feeling Will grow heavier against him. He crosses his fingers — Apollo kids don’t often suffer side effects of medication, but he’s hoping the drowsiness’ll kick in. It’ll be nice if Will actually, like, sleeps through the night. For once.

“Mhm.”

Smiling wider, he flicks off the lights and steps out into the late evening. Cicada song swells in the mid-spring mugginess, owls hooting somewhere in the darkness. The curfew harpies’ chittering grows nearer and nearer. Lee waves to some of his friends as he sees them puttering outside their cabins, running through the last of their nightly routines, and finally ducks into Cabin Seven.

“He out?” Diana asks, hushed, setting aside her guitar to walk over.

Lee hums. “Almost. Had to give him some Benadryl, so he’s sleepy.” His smile turns sly. “He lied to me about brushing his hair and broke out in hives.”

“Of course he’s allergic.” She leans forward, shaking her head, and presses a gentle kiss to his temple. He doesn’t stir. “Goodnight, sweetpea.”

The rest of his siblings call out their own soft goodnights as Lee walks over to Will’s bunk, covered in stickers and bracketed by Michael and Leanna, and sets him on the mattress. It takes him several minutes to pry himself out of his grip.

“Love you,” he whispers. He brushes his knuckle across his cheek. “Night, kiddo.”

———

The next morning, Will sleeps in for hours. The rest of them rise as usual with the sun, but he’s snoring, drooling onto his Star Wars pillowcase. The cabin is filled with muffled snickers and snapping cameras.

“I am going to have so much ammo on him by the time he’s thirteen and embarrassed by everything,” Michael says gleefully. “So, so much ammo.”

Lee grins at him. “Make sure I get a copy.”

The walk to breakfast is almost strange — the twelve of them again, no baby brother. Melody, complaining about the Hermes girl who is not picking up on any of her hints, pauses mid-sentence to ask if she can swear. Cass laughs out loud and allows it. Quickly, breakfast becomes a competition of who can swear the most or the most colourfully, free now that there are no little ears (as if Michael hasn’t supplied Will with a vast vocabulary already).

By the time Will stumbles into the pavilion, rubbing sleepy eyes, breakfast is almost over.

“Well, hello, lazy bones,” Lee teases, getting up to grab him a plate. Will trails slightly behind him, fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt.

“‘M not lazy,” he grouches, accepting the heaping plate Lee hands to him, “you drugged me.”

They walk to the brazier near the Apollo table, taking in the sweet smell as Will scrapes off a hefty chunk of olive bread. Lee waits for him to close his eyes and finish mouthing a quick prayer before guiding him, still sleepy, to the bench.

“I didn’t drug you. You took the medicine yourself.”

“Um, no way! Unless a patient is educated about the risks, benefits, and alternatives about a treatment, they do not have informed consent.” He nods resolutely, evidently proud of himself for remembering the spiel. “Ergo, you drugged me.”

Lee has the sudden, overwhelming urge to burst into tears. Will is — he’s just so bright, and so little. Eight years old and chattering off about informed consent, intently watching Michael in the infirmary, taking notes in his little blue notebook and wrapping bandages on burns with his tongue poking out between lost teeth. When Lee was eight years old, he was chasing his friends around at recess, chattering to anyone who would listen about Pokémon.

He had felt it, when the glowing gold lyre appeared above Will’s head: this child will do great things. They’d all felt it. Cass had gone stiff, eyes flashing green and face creasing in horror, before remembering herself and the big blue eyes watching her, scared, and plastering a smile on her face. ‘Great things’ is never a good thing for a demigod to do. A demigod destined for great things is a demigod doomed.

With every straining molecule, he wants to turn to the heavens and scream, no! You will not have him! You will not use him! He is not yours to toy with, to use until you’re bored! I will not allow it! By my dying breath I will not allow it!

Instead, he swallows around the lump in his throat and says, “What kind of dork says the word ‘ergo’,” and laughs when Will sticks out his tongue. He reminds his baby brother to chew with his mouth closed and keep his elbows off the table, lest his mama kick his ass, and forces himself to focus on the way he leans into Lee’s side as he eats; to memorize the wideness of his unburdened smile.

———

“I’m allergic to lying?!”

“Seems like it,” Lee confirms, closing one eye to line up a shot. He breathes in, holds, then exhales, letting the arrow loose. It hits the bullseye, but not quite as centred as he’d like it to be. Shoot. He sets down his bow, and Will runs off, scooping up the volley and running back with them.

(Gods, Lee loves having a little brother.)

“That’s not a real allergy,” he huffs, placing an arrow in Lee’s waiting hand. “The ten most common allergy types are foods, animals, pollen, mold, dust mites, medications, latex, insect stings, cockroaches, and perfumes or household chemicals. Other allergens are rare but not impossible, but all are a result of physical stimuli. An allergy to a concept or person is a figure of speech.”

Lee squints at him. “Do you know what ‘stimuli’ means?”

“No.”

“It means a thing that evokes a specific reaction. Where’d you read that?”

“‘The Flu, The Plague, and the Common Cold — How We Are Shaped By Reacting’ by Phyllis Ledger.”

“Huh.”

He lines up another arrow — closer to the centre, this time. Good enough.

They don’t learn a lot about paediatric care at camp, or really anything outside of first aid and emergency services, but he’s pretty sure that normal eight-year-olds don’t read and memorize medical textbooks in their spare time. Is he supposed to nurture that? He has no idea how to nurture that.

It’s kinda funny, though. Cute.

“How can I be allergic to lying if that’s impossible?”

“Is sewing a severed arm back on a person using magical nectar and singing songs possible?”

Will pauses, considering. “Okay. I guess so.” He waits, letting Lee focus to make another shot. “I still think it’s stupid. Are you allergic to lying?”

“Nope.”

“Is Cass?”

“Negative.”

“Michael?”

Lee scoffs. “If Michael was allergic to lying, he would be dead.”

“Is anyone else allergic to lying?”

“Nope.” This time, the arrow lands in the dead centre — finally. “Just you, kiddo.”

He’s heard, of course, of children of Apollo afflicted with such an inconvenience before. Their dad is the god of truth, after all. It’s bound to happen.

Will frowns. “What are the parameters?”

Lee glances curiously at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, what is lying? Am I allergic to lying, or not telling the truth? They’re different, you know.” He fidgets with the last arrow of the volley, picking at the tail. “Am I gonna get hives if I say something that’s not true, even if I think it’s true? What if I say something that’s a lie but everyone believes it’s true, like when people believed smoking was good for you?” He gasps, looking at Lee with wide, worried eyes. “Oh my gods, am I allowed to be sarcastic?”

Lee tries his very best to hold back his laughter. He is obviously unsuccessful, because Will scowls, shoving him as hard as he can and throwing off his last shot.

“It’s not funny!”

“It’s a little funny,” Lee snickers, jogging down the range to gather his arrows. He slides them into the quiver, tossing it and his bow onto the equipment deck. “You’re very adorable when you’re mad. You get all —” he pokes Will’s dimpled cheeks, grinning when it makes him smile — “pouty and red. Like Tinkerbell.”

“You’re mean. You’re a horrible mean big brother and I want Beckendorf to adopt me instead.”

“I’ll let him know,” Lee says drily. “C’mon, kid. There’re cabin inspections tonight; I know you got Lego everywhere. Time to clean up. I swear, if we get Castor again I’m gonna —”

“Oh, I didn’t see you guys! I hope I’m not interrupting your practice.”

Lee stumbles. “— lose it.” He trails off weakly “Hey, Carter.”

The son of Athena smiles widely, dark eyes twinkling. His front tooth is just slightly crooked, and Lee finds himself staring at it.

“Hi, Lee.”

Lee wonders, briefly, if he has suddenly developed tachycardia. It certainly feels like it. He remembers something Will had rattled off during lunch yesterday — hummingbirds don’t actually hum, they just beat their wings thousands of times per minute, often in sync with their heart. Lee feels a strange kinship with the little birds right about now.

Will clears his throat loudly.

Carter startles. “Oh! Oh, hi, Will, I’m sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

Will squints suspiciously. “Uh-huh.”

“I was just hoping to use the archery range, if you’re done with it.” He tucks a lock behind his ear. “Or, um. We can share, if you want.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Lee rushes to assure, “I actually just finished, so I’m all — it! It’s all yours!” He clears his throat, sure his face is flaming. “Uh, take it away! Shoot straight!”

Mortified, he clamps his hands on Will’s shoulders and practically shoves him forward, rushing away as fast as is socially acceptable.

“Okay,” Carter calls out behind him, audibly confused. “See you around, Lee.”

Lee makes some sort of horrible, crackling chucking sound. “Right-o!”

Just bury him. Really.

“Smooth,” Will mutters, the second they’re out of earshot. Then he pauses, delighted. “Hey! I can still be sarcastic!”

Lee flicks him on the forehead, scowling. “Shut up.”

———

“— it just seems so vague, right? I mean, say I look at the sky and say, the sky is green. That’s obviously not true. But what if I think it’s true? Or what if I think blue is green, and green is blue? Am I being truthful? Is truth defined by my belief, or by whoever I’m speaking to? Or some arbitrary, so-called objective standard? And what if —”

“Will,” Lee begs, hands pressed to his rapidly-pulsating temples, “for the love of Zeus, please settle down.”

“I can’t,” he says dramatically. He gets another couple jumps on his (FRESHLY MADE) bed before Lee gets fed up an wallops him with a pillow, sending him tumbling with a shriek. “Child abuse! I’m telling Chiron!” He makes a pleased noise. “Hey, I can still exaggerate! I wonder if acting is considered lying —”

“I am going to lose my mind.”

“— and what about, like, withholding the truth? Like, for example, if you asked me, hey, Will, did I make a big embarrassing fool out of myself in front of Carter this morning, and I do not say yeah, totally, I was embarrassed for you —”

“That’s it.”

Lee pounces on him, murderous, digging his fingers into his brother’s sides as he shrieks with laughter, pinning down his arms so he can’t writhe away.

“Mercy! Mercy! I’m sorry, I’m —”

“You’re literally lying right now!” Lee says in disbelief. “I can see your eyes reddening!”

Luckily, the reaction isn’t so severe this time. Maybe it’s a smaller lie, leaning more into teasing than anything, or maybe even the universe can’t be so cruel when faced with Will’s giggles. Either way, Lee tickles him until he’s begging for mercy for real, gasping as he darts away.

“You’re such a brat,” Lee says fondly, catching his breath.

Will sticks out his tongue. “Nuh uh.”

“Get over here, doofus. It’s nine o’clock. You were supposed to be in bed a half-hour ago, I’ll tell you a story.”

Predictably, that gets him quiet, clambering over the mussed sheets and shoving himself into Lee’s side, leg sprawled over his knees and chin digging into his chest. Big blue eyes turn to him with attention, wider than the sea and skies, sparkling, clear with open trust. The lump surfaces in Lee’s throat again, and he brings his hands up to smooth down Will’s hair, distracting himself by untangling the many knots.

“One day,” he begins, voice a little wobbly, “there was a boy.”

“In a galaxy far far away?”

“No. Shut up.”

Will pouts. Lee kisses him on the forehead.

“There was a regular boy on regular Earth. And he was small and clumsy, because his brain was too big for his body and threw him off balance.”

“That’s called a Chiari malformation.”

“William Andrew.”

“Sorry.”

“Gods. Anyways. The boy.” He clears his throat. “The boy was the most curious boy to ever exist. He would observe things, with his big eyes, for hours, trying to figure out how everything in the whole world worked. He’d memorized how every creature in the pond worked together when he was four years old. By the time he was five he could speak frog, and dance with the fireflies.”

Will giggles. “A boy can’t speak frog, that’s ridiculous. Can the frog speak back?”

“Shhh. Listening ears. One day, when the boy was eight, he got very bored by his house, even with the pretty pond. The frogs were too busy to play with him and the fireflies had flown off to work, so he decided to go on an adventure.”

“A quest?”

“Yes, exactly. A quest for knowledge. He decided he would learn every piece of information possible so that one day he could bring it back to his village and share it with everybody. Do you know what happened?”

“What?”

“He was successful. He spent many years travelling and observing and running from monsters to get all the information he could. And when he came back to the village, the people saw that he was kind and intelligent but very naive, so they sucked out all the knowledge from his head to use for themselves and he died. The end.”

“What? No!” Will pushes himself upright, unfortunately putting his entire weight on Lee’s spleen, jaw dropped in outrage. “That’s a horrible story! You can’t end the story like that!”

“My story,” Lee wheezes. “I can end it however I want.”

“Tell it better!”

“Fine, fine. Get off my organs.”

When Will is settled again, curled in the crook of Lee’s arm and glaring at him suspiciously, Lee continues.

“The villagers didn’t kill the boy. You’re right. But they weren’t very careful with them, either. The boy wanted very much to help, so much that it was sometimes all he could think about. And the villagers didn’t mean to, but they treated the boy like he was a knowledge machine — taking and taking and taking, forgetting to give back, to check on him. One day, the boy was so drained of knowledge that he collapsed.”

“Of stress-induced exhaustion?” Will asks softly. His eyes, finally, have begun to droop.

Lee smiles. “Something like that.”

“Then what happened?”

“The villagers panicked, because the boy wasn’t awake to tell them how to fix him. They didn’t know what to do. Some of them, even, didn’t know why he collapsed at all, they thought he might be cursed and didn’t like him anymore.”

“But he wasn’t cursed, he was sick!”

“That’s right. He was sick, because he didn’t stop to take care of himself. He let people take too much without making sure he had enough to stay whole.”

For a long time, long enough that Lee thinks he’s asleep, Will doesn’t say anything. And then he says, in a very small voice, “Does the boy still die?”

“No,” Lee whispers, tightening his hold. “His big brother comes back from a long trip and heals him. And then he yells are the villagers for making him sick, and makes them promise to be more careful. The end. For real this time.”

“I like the second story better,” Will says. “It’s good that he had his big brother there.”

“Always.” Lee swallows, shifting once Will’s eyes flutter shut, sliding him under the covers. “Always, kiddo.”

#thinking about what could have been and sobbing on my hands and knees on the ground #something something the children of prophecy know which of them is going to live something something #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #will solace #will solace angst #lee fletcher #will solace & lee fletcher #i don’t know how else to tag this but like. pain #my writing #fic #longpost #baby will #baby will solace #kid will solace #smart will solace

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rekishiteki · 9 months ago

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Ardent Affection

Summary: You just really love Jing Yuan

Words: Around 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff the whole way through; reader is not described in any way and implied to be a long life species; reader and jing yuan are very clingy and a little possessive; jing yuan decided to be cheeky so this ended up kind of suggestive at the end

Notes: I wrote this for meee!!!!! It's self indulgent!! It's what I want to do with jing yuan!!! It's been months and I'm still so down bad for him. I'm so in love with him it's making me ill!!!! Done trying to edit this so take it before I explode from the yearning

This is also an offering to his rerun banner. I need my beautiful husband so please let me win my next 50/50 and his lightcone 👉👈

You're relaxing with Jing Yuan in his gardens. He's lying on his side with a hand propping his head up. His eyes are closed and he looks content to be here sunning himself. You're sitting with your back resting against his middle. His other hand is placed on your arm and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest. It's comforting. You let out a content sigh, basking in the serenity of the moment. Your thoughts drift to Jing Yuan as they tend to do, your gaze drifting along with it. You examine him and his beautiful features, heart tightening with the love you feel for him.

"I wish I was as old as you." The words come out of your mouth impulsively, the barely formed thoughts surprising you.

Jing Yuan's eyes open. He looks curious. A moment passes before he responds. "How come?"

You purse your lips before turning away to think. Knowing this Jing Yuan simply lets the hand on your arm start gently stroking you. He'll patiently wait for your answer. He always does.

After a while you turn your body to face him. One hand is supporting you on the ground while you rest the other on his side. "Because," you pause and squeeze the hand you have on him. You're always nervous to voice the feelings you harbor deep within. But in the end you can't help being an open book for him. He makes it so easy to do so. "Because maybe I could have known you sooner. We could've had more time together. And... you wouldn't have had to be alone for centuries."

He's silent as he takes in your words, eyes never leaving you. Then an amused huff escapes him as he brings his free hand to cup your face. The smile Jing Yuan's giving you drives you insane, the one where he looks so utterly in love with you that it constricts your heart to the point it feels like it's going to burst from the overwhelming affection you have for him. Those feelings are where this thought originated from. You love him so much it makes you greedy. Greedy for him. You want his everything and you want to give him everything in turn. You hate that you've missed so much of his life. You want all of him including the past you can't have. To make him irrevocably yours, and you his.

Jing Yuan draws you closer, his thumb lovingly caressing your cheek. It brings your attention back to him. You wonder how much of your thought process he's aware of. Your noses are almost touching now. He's smiling as he speaks. "I have you now."

It takes a moment to find your voice as you find yourself lost in his eyes. "Is that enough?"

He's staring at you like he wants to get lost in yours too. "More than enough. We have our whole future ahead of us, don't we?"

Something inside of you snaps. The way he says it, like it's obvious the two of you will always be together. For a long time. It makes you delirious. Delirious with love. And you need to act on it or you really will burst. So you surge forward to kiss him. And he must have been expecting it because he's already turning on his back and taking you with him. The hand on your cheek moves to the back of your head to press you closer. Your own hands are gripping him tightly. His other hand now on your waist squeezes in response. And so the two of you lie there, luxuriating in each other's sweet kisses. You want to kiss him forever but the need to breathe wins out. You break away with a sigh. Jing Yuan's eyes gleam with mirth as he watches you and you feel as if your breath's been stolen again.

You wonder if you should say something but the only thing you're capable of coming up with is a flurry of I love you's. Jing Yuan seems to know what's rattling in your head for his gaze softens. He brings a hand up to your face again but this time you lean into it and grab it. He chuckles. "You're always so sweet for me," he says, looking so incredibly fond of you.

You hum in acknowledgement. "I love you," you mewl. You love Jing Yuan so much, how could you not want to be so sweet and good for him? He's gone through so much yet still remains so good and kind hearted without ever expecting anything in return. But you want to return it. You want to give him the love he lives by and fill his life with joy. This is the second origin of your thoughts. If you knew him longer you could've started making him the happiest man on the Luofu sooner.

"I love you, too. Very much." He says it like it's a secret just for you, all while looking horribly smitten. It sends your heart soaring. You smile at him and there's no doubt it's just as smitten as his.

Jing Yuan stills and you don't have any time to react as he's the one surging forward to kiss you this time. However this kiss is different. It's searing and tantalizing. You feel your world tilt as Jing Yuan turns to settle over you trapping you under him. His lips part briefly and then give a chaste peck before pulling away to grin at you. It's a playful grin, almost smug. He tilts his head to the side almost as if he's challenging you.

You're wide eyed as you take a moment to recover. Then you laugh and shake your head, smiling all the while. "You're such a scoundrel."

"Only for you." You can tell how much he's enjoying this from the delightful smirk he's wearing.

"Yes, yes, you're my scoundrel." You reach up to pat his head. There's a small hum as his eyes close momentarily in pleasure.

"Do you regret being loved by a 'scoundrel'?" The amusement is clearly written on his face. It's evident he knows what the only answer is.

You scoff. Fleetingly you wonder how to continue but Jing Yuan's assurance in your love for each other always makes you want to be sincere. So you smile and answer, "No. I could never."

A quiet moment passes where Jing Yuan simply returns your smile before he's leaning down to press a loving kiss to your forehead. "Good. I'm afraid there's no escaping from me now." Suddenly, you're very aware of the hands that grip your waist a little tighter and how you're effectively pinned beneath him. It's like he's saying you're his and the thought sends a thrill through you. You're in the palm of his hands now and that's your favorite place to be.

You bring up your arms to wrap them around his neck. You easily pull him closer to you. The two of you stare at each other as the silence simmers with a gentle heat. It's broken—but not gone—when you quietly tell him, "I wouldn't have it any other way. Because you can't escape from me either."

Jing Yuan practically lights up at that. He grins, pleased. "I'm all yours." You think Jing Yuan likes to enable your possessiveness. Something about it seems to fill him with satisfaction. Maybe it's knowing that someone could feel so ardently for him. That somehow you've chosen to love him and never rescind it. Or at least that's how you feel about him and his possession of you. It does make you greedy. He's greedy. He'll take whatever you give him and return it tenfold. You two are lovesick and doomed to never recover.

The thought is tickling. You laugh. There's no need for words so you simply lean forward to kiss him. He meets you halfway. You can't tell who started it but it doesn't matter. Each one speaks of the love you hold for the other.

Jing Yuan pulls away with a nip to your bottom lip. Your breath hitches. Both from the action and the way he's now looking at you. He wants to proposition you. You know he will. And he knows you'll agree. He'll be so nice and sweet as he asks you it'll leave you swooning. You both know this and yet it never gets any less exhilarating.

You can feel the anticipation grow within you as you watch him draw closer. Jing Yuan rests his forehead against yours. He's smiling. The desire in his beautiful golden eyes holds you captive. One of his hands is lightly trailing down your arm to grab your hand. He interlaces his fingers with yours. The two of you remain like that for a moment to take each other in. Finally Jing Yuan says to you, "My dear," and it's spine tingling the way he calls to you so reverently. "Allow me to express my love for you in other ways. Let me show you how good I can be for you, hm?"

His words send a delightful shiver through you. "Please, Jing Yuan," you answer him but it's more of a plead. He really is so good to you. Whatever he gives you, you also want to return tenfold. Jing Yuan gives you one last fond smile before he's up and carrying you to your shared bed. The love you have for him is bubbling up again and threatening to overflow. You also want to express it in other ways. To tether him with sweet adoration and endless devotion like he readily does to you. It's a fulfilling game of give and take neither of you want to end.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #on my knees begging and sobbing please jy just give me one chance!!!!!#genuinely cannot remember when i was this down bad for a character... jy what have you done to me.....#i need to chew glass or be sedated idk just put me out of my misery!!!!!!#jy posting

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