Dear Yingxing What Do Those Hands Do

dear yingxing what do those hands do…

cw. fingering, semi-public sex.

yingxing knows he’s good with his hands. it’s expected of a master craftsman like him — from one who forged some of the greatest weapons the xianzhou have seen in centuries, to piecing together intricate jewellery and designs with equal dexterity. 

he’s shrouded in reverence, head filled with the praises of many. few may call him arrogant and proud, but even they cannot deny the truth of the talent held within the palm of his hands, blessed with this heaven sent gift, imbued in the creations he’s ever held the honour of handling. 

one could almost mistaken him for some sort of divine god in their fervent admiration, with the essence of creation at his fingertips. the irony, you seem to think — if only they knew where else those fingers have been, the same ones who had put together such relics to banish sin. 

truly, you think it’s almost sacrilegious, in the way they’re used now to coax such lewd sounds from you, his name rolling off your tongue like a sinful prayer. 

it’s almost enough to bring you to tears, your legs trembling as he drags his fingers in and out of you at such an agonisingly slow pace, one that has your walls desperately clenching around them, wanting for more. 

“just look at you,” he croons in your ear, taking in the sight of you spread out before him on a crafting bench, weapon blueprints and unfinished projects scattered around you — yingxing analyses you as if you’re another one of his creations, like you’re the greatest curiosity he’s ever beheld. 

he tilts his head to the side, silvery white hair cascading over his bare shoulders as he raises his free hand to stroke your cheek, almost in mock sympathy at your pitiful state. he’s barely done a thing, and you’re already dripping wet, so needy for him that he thinks could make you cum with just the two fingers he has inside you.

“yingxing.. please.” you beg, but he knows exactly what he’s doing, in that he’s memorised every inch of your body, and knows exactly where to touch you, to see you come undone in front of his eyes. 

to someone like him, taking something apart and putting it together are one in the same in the process of craftsmanship. humans and scrap metal are no different in that they have weak, sensitive points, and when he curls his finger against that sweet, sweet spot inside you, he’s rewarded with the sight of your eyes rolling to the back of your head, a soft moan pushing past your lips. 

gods, he’s addicted to it, abusing that same spot over and over as you babble his name incoherently in some form of broken desperation. it’s almost like music to his ears, as if he’s the only person who can make you feel this good, that you’re all his. 

because isn’t he just better than everyone else? 

no other hands are as skilled as his. it’s what he’s been told his entire life, and that vain, self-satisfied part of him knows it to be true. no one would be able to do what he’s done with such precision, to be able to see the sight of you before him, reduced to a crying mess from just two of his fingers. 

he wouldn’t let them try anyway. he’s a selfish man who always has something to prove, the sound of the bell tinkling as footsteps enter his workshop only gives him more incentive, roughly pinching your puffy clit in response, sending another sudden wave of pleasure coursing through you with a shudder. 

the noise that escapes you is nothing short of shameful, yourself mortified such a sound could’ve come from you, clapping a hand over your mouth as if to silence yourself, but your arm is swatted aside, met with eyes of piercing sapphire. 

he only smirks. “let them hear it. let them know how good it feels.” 

you don’t know how he manages to push his fingers even deeper inside you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as your body arches into his, your nails digging into his back.

but you’re utterly delirious beneath him, his mouth sucking and biting at the sensitive spots across your skin, watching your eyelids flutter and the whimpers that escape you as his fingers work in and out of your dripping hole in tandem. 

that small part of you that holds your remaining dignity thinks it’s so incredibly filthy, from the moans that now spill freely from your lips, to the things he whispers in your ear, as he brings you closer to that edge of pain and pleasure, that tightly coiled knot that’s been building up within you straining to snap at any moment. 

“come for me.” he seems to say in the clouded haze of your pleasure, as your hips seem to tremble beneath him in response. 

and then he’ll have you crumble completely in his arms, knowing he’s the only one that can piece you together, to fill you up again. 

I like to imagine that in an au where Meleanor lives and Lilia somehow still gets custody of Silver, like Malleus she is also initially disgusted by Silver before growing extremely attached to him because the "you love me, so you'll love my child" thing goes both ways.

A few hcs that I had while I brainrotted about this in Discord dms:

-Meleanor, like her son, is very fascinated by Silver's fast development.

-She is an easily impressed aunt/godmother and would heap SO MUCH praise on Silver for the littlest things. (and immediately turn around and strike Lilia with lightning for interrupting her)

-Lilia, on the phone(?): "Silver just said his first words!"

Meleanor, appearing in a burst of fire: "HOLY SHIT!!!"

-Sort of reflecting fae in folklore, she loves to kidnap take Silver back to the castle with her for "play dates" with Malleus, who will complain about it as he so very gently plays with the fragile infant his mother had trusted him with (he is a tsundere big brother)

-Revan always sighs every time he catches Silver in the castle because he KNOWS his wife didn't tell Lilia she took him, but he isn't unhappy to see him. Will include Silver in Malleus's tutoring sessions even though Malleus's curriculum is much too advanced for the average human, let alone a baby.

-Growing up, Silver calls Meleanor "Mother" because he hears Malleus call her that all the time. When he grows out of it and starts calling her "Lady Meleanor/Meleanor-sama", she sulks about it a bit.

If yall have other suggestions, feel free to comment them.

Another addition to this potential fic, what if dragoness reader looked like this in her dragon form?

(Image source: the queen of the silkwings from Wings of Fire)

What if reader was forced into hiding her dragon features because only the high elder is allowed to have them?

*Cue Dan Feng and Yingxing rizzing reader up by gifting high quality jewelry, silks and beautiful hand fans*

I'm starting to write this fic down, so why don't you guys suggest how these three started their relationship? These three are my choices;

1.) Reader and Dan Feng got together first, then they both fell in love with Yingxing.

2.) Dan Feng and Yingxing got together first, then they both fell in love with reader.

3.) Yingxing and reader got together first then they fell in love with Dan Feng.

Hear my random shower thoughts out:

Dan Feng x Dragoness!Reader x Yingxing

Like, in my head, they are THE power throuple, absolutely unstoppable. They are all down horrendous for each other, no one feels left out.

Maybe reader is a dragon from another planet/universe that somehow found their way to Xianzhou, and lived there bc they couldnt find their way back. Maybe they are a healer like Dan Feng. Think of Meleanor Draconia from Twisted Wonderland with Kanae Kochou's personality and habit of picking up random children from the streets and taking them under her wing from Demon Slayer, that is reader.

Imagine the hilarity, Yingxing rizzed up not one, but TWO powerful and hot dragons lmao.

Imagine the sexy times too, Yingxing just being used by two sexy dragons 😩 or reader being dicked down by the hottest blacksmith and the sexiest high elder ever.

But on another note, the angst tho. I have multiple possible ways on how reader died:

1.) Reader died in battle while protecting the children they took in/adopted.

2.) Reader (somehow) becomes Mara stricken and Dan Feng is forced to kill her, which explains Blade's thirst for vengeance. Bro might not remember his own name but he can vividly remember Dan Feng using the weapon HE forged to kill their wife.

3.) A combination of both 1 and 2.

And the aftermath will be :

Same as canon HCQ lore, Dan Feng and Yingxing fucked things up and Yingxing becomes Blade and Dan Feng is imprisoned. And many years (centuries) later Dan Heng is exiled and becomes part of the express. Blade is out for Dan H(F)eng's blood.

And as luck would find them, a person who is also part of the express just so happens to resemble their deceased wife....

Oops, this got longer than I thought.

Let me know your thoughts and opinions. Maybe I'll write this...

I think the Knight of Dawn being "a coward who is unable to stand up for what is right and does as he's ordered to" and "someone who cares deeply about his family and did everything he could so that Silver could live a happy and normal life in the future" are two statements that can coexist.