I need every single one of you to cross your fingers, hold your thumbs, or whatever varient of "wish you luck" you use that this dissertation will yield a decent grade.
Olruggio is... Olruggio is great. I've only just met him and I love him already. I think he'd be great for domesticity. I think he'd be great for those late night talks. Sharing a bed with him, discussing the chores of the next day... teasing him just enough that he is forced to toss a pillow at your face. He's perfect for comfortable symbiosis.
Jing Yuan was not a morning person—ever since your marriage, only your love seemed to beckon him awake.
-> Jing Yuan x GN ! Reader || ~950 words
-> Contents: established relationship ,, early mornings ,, fluff ,, non-sexual intimacy
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Ever since Jing Yuan married you, the General had developed a lazy habit of oversleeping long past the sparrows' morning songs. Their usual chipper cadence did nothing to beckon him out from beneath the comfortable blankets, nor did your shuffling stir him enough to give into the early light of day. He missed breakfast. He missed warmups and routine. Jing Yuan allowed himself to rest a while longer each day as if the extra minutes of indulgence could dampen any aches that followed noon.
(Perhaps it was selfishness that stirred in his heart, longing for prolonged, tranquil risings—a mellow greed for comfort. The tides of duty would carry him to the Seat of Divine Foresight regardless of the time spent in bed. Surely he could permit slumber to cling to his weary limbs a moment more.)
The bed felt warm. Your kisses always felt warmer.
Jing Yuan wasn't truly asleep.
He smiled into the cushy pillow when he felt the bed sink once more under your weight and you crawled atop the mattress to where he lay. He could smell the early sunshine on your skin: rich and heated, accenting your perfume and tumbling down your day-clothes in pleasant waves. You had awoken before him again, as you had the day before, getting through the morning like a gentle breeze through spring leaves. Fabric ruffled. A chime of jewels rang out in the quiet bedroom. You settled by his waist, tugging the duvet down with careful hands till Jing Yuan felt lines of sunlight drape over his body.
Your breath fanned across his shoulder and warmed his skin with potent affection.
Your hand ghosted his back before it began to rub even circles against his old wounds.
Tranquility rippled in the wake of your lips as you kissed his skin and abundant time shaped them into a smile. It was a road well travelled by you: the path from his toned bicep, past the deep scar on his shoulder blade, to the shallow dip of his spine. Your nose brushed against the relaxed muscles and Jing Yuan hummed a purr of content.
It was a sign he was conscious enough to bask in your attention.
"It's time to wake up." Your words were spoken quietly, drifting afloat a tone of adoration as you slid your hand to palm at his side. You massaged his skin tenderly. Lovingly. Your fingertips ghosted another scar and the General took to poorly feigning sleep.
(All of his senses were drawn to you. Perhaps if he kept his eyes closed for a moment longer you'd dote on him a little more.)
Gently, you scratched his back and Jing Yuan groaned. Despite his resolve, he flexed his hands against the mattress like a large cat instinctively kneading its bedding before he slipped them beneath the pillow. His muscles rippled as he stretched—he hugged the pillow in a tight hold, hands flat—letting his face sink into the cloud-soft material. His own hot breath bounced back across his face.
Your hand found its way into his milky, white hair.
"You've slept long enough."
Another hum—Jing Yuan made no effort to move.
"Jing Yuan."
A little more.
Continuing its journey of gentle caresses your hand brushed away the fluffy hair clinging messily to his forehead. Beneath the bangs, golden eyes blinked open lazily. They peered at you with the warmest of smiles bringing worn creases to their corners. They crinkled. They were aged with centuries past. Jing Yuan looked at you through thick lashes, heavy with sluggish sleep, and though his vision was strained he took you in like he did every late morning.
With one final stretch, Jing Yuan pushed himself up to lay on his side.
"There you are," you said quietly and his smile widened with affection. He chuckled at your expression—daylight reflecting in the gloss of your eyes—and reached out to trail a single knuckle against your leg. He knocked it against your knee. You once more brushed the hair out of his face.
"You look well," Jing Yuan commented, "have you eaten yet?"
A playful scoff left your lips. "I have. The birds kept me company since my own husband failed to join me. How cruel."
"You wound me," he drawled in response though his words lacked any true weight. There was mirth in your expression—Jing yuan read it well. He found it beautiful—how could he not—as sunshine illuminated your face. It glowed against the shadows of your features. Your smile was bright. Your eyes shimmered. Your brows furrowed with adoration. You leaned down again and he made room as you kissed his lips with the promise of love. The fabric of your clothes draped over his muscle and you lingered, grinning against his lips.
Your lips moved slowly—your hand cupped his face. His hair tickled your cheeks and his touch found your waist.
He met your gaze with half-lidded eyes.
"Come," you spoke, sitting up. Jing Yuan longed for more. "Get dressed. I'll plate breakfast for you."
"Whatever would I do without you, my love?"
The bed felt colder as you shuffled off its side, straightening your clothes once you stood flat on your heels. Your jewellery chimed again, gems and metal ringing quietly, your footsteps padding softly. You smiled as he sat up—grinned at the way fabric pooled in his lap. "Wake up on time, perhaps," you teased.
Jing Yuan couldn't help his chuckle. "Is that right?"
Maybe it was for the sake of your generous affection that Jing Yuan took to such lazy morning rituals. The General wasn't opposed to earned indulgence, and when it came with kisses from the one he cherished most, he was much obliged.
Mannnn this adult Zuko's got hands and he's dead set on taking my heart. What were the animators thinking?? He's making me swoon and giggle this is terrible!!! He's so... aughhh.
