#He was always accommodating of his mommy

[atihkinsam]

I mean let's be REALLY real though, with the way they set up Mary Winchester on supernatural, there was no way they could have legitimately brought her out of the woodworks and NOT have it fall flat on their faces.

She was almost this Saintly Figure this Paragon of Motherly Love and Sacrifice and then she is NOT.

Obviously cause the the writers had Amara RIP her out of some near perfect heaven where she hangs out with John and baby sam and little dean for eternity,

And then is thrust into this Dumpster Fire earth that dean just saved from getting nuked by making god and his sister see the winchester way, 'thou shalt love thy brother as thyself' which is absolute bars btw!!

Because didn't God's son HESUS! write that down for us?!

I mean dean on many levels expected her to get RIGHT BACK into her Role as Mother Mary and was super pissed that she was just weirded out by two (more like one?!) grown dude(s) and way too much testosterone for her own comfort.

[nereidprinc3ss]

i keep you clean; you surrounded me

in which husband!spencer reid spirals after realizing he can't be your daughter's hero forever.

angst, fluff warnings/tags: this fic is about spencer's past addiction, and how he's afraid it will impact his relationship with his daughter, conversation about alcohol, this is a fix-it fic for my life, ends on a hopeful/positive note, lots of self-loathing from Spencer, uses the phrase "shooting up", PLEASE do not read if this is going to upset you!! PLEASE!! fem!reader a/n: this felt healing in a way for me but that might not be your experience reading if you also have issues with a parent with addiction so please tread lightly and make the right choices for you. CHOOSE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH OVER MY DUMB FANFIC I CAN'T STRESS THAT ENOUGH!! and ily

“Daddy?”

Ada’s not asking for you, but you look to her anyway. She’s squeezed between you and Spencer on Rossi’s swing, and her cheeks are still feverish—remnants of a recent and rather hysterical fit of giggles. She has a glass of lemonade between her little hands (you’re trusting her with a big girl cup, if only because it’s not your glass or your house) and she peers into it intently. Her little grass-stained feet kick. Spencer pushes the swing back ever so slightly, for her entertainment. 

“Huh?”

She holds her glass up for him. 

“Our drinks are the same color.”

“They are,” he nods. “Do you like yellow?”

Ada shrugs. It’s exaggerated—one of her favorite moves as of late. “It’s okay.”

Spencer glances at you like he always does when he sees glimpses of you in your child, eyes sparkling as if her opinionated and bluntly honest nature is in any way reminiscent of you. 

“Yeah, I agree. Yellow is just okay.”

She leans against him and he’s quick to accommodate her, affectionately brushing his knuckles over your bare shoulder as he slings his arm across the back of the swing. 

“Daddy?”

“What, lovebug?”

You smile, letting your head fall back and your eyes close. The sun is warm on your face. 

“Mommy’s drink is red.”

Nothing gets past her. Rossi had pushed the drink into your hand almost the second you stepped through the door, insisting it would go well with lunch. It sits otherwise untouched on the glass table. 

Spencer hums. The swing rocks gently. 

“That’s because she’s not having lemonade like us. She’s having a grownup drink.”

“Oh.”

You think that’s the end of it, that she’s satisfied with the answer, until another moment passes, and her voice, sweet as the tinkle of little fairy bells, is posing a very loaded question. 

“Why don’t you ever have grownup drinks? Me and you always have the same.”

Spencer’s already looking at you, brows drawn as you sit up. Your eyes, open now, go wide, and you shake your head slightly to signal you have no idea how he’s supposed to respond either. 

His hand goes to Ada’s hair, gently scratching her scalp as his eyes dart over your face. You can see the gears turning in his head. This is one of very few things he clearly didn’t read about in any of the literature on raising kids when you were pregnant. 

“I… some people don’t like grownup drinks.”

It’s an inadequate answer, especially coming from Spencer—just this morning he explained to Ada why the sky is blue. Rayleigh scattering. Blue light scatters more than any other kind of light. Which then led to an impromptu lesson on oxygen molecules and other basic chemistry in the car on the way here. 

So there are standards. 

“Why not?”

You interrupt, unable to watch Spencer flounder any longer. “Ada, why don’t you go see what Henry and JJ and Uncle Dave are doing? That looks fun, right?”

You gesture down the yard to where JJ and Rossi are teaching Henry to play cornhole. 

She looks at you with big brown eyes—the set of them, the color—those are all Spencer.

“Can you and daddy come?”

You straighten out her dress and take the half-full glass from her little hands, setting it next to your own on the table. 

“In a minute. Go ahead.”

Spencer’s hand slips from her hair as she pushes off the swing and bounds down the yard. You make sure she arrives to her destination without incident, before scooting closer to your husband and taking his vacant hand. 

“Spence?” You ask quietly, leaning in to try and insert yourself into his eye line. He doesn’t look away from Ada. 

“That was bad.”

“It wasn’t. She doesn’t understand. It’s fine.”

“I didn’t—”

He looks down, lips pressed together, and your heart twists and drops like overripe fruit from the vine as you realize his eyes have glossed over. 

“Baby,” you whisper, relinquishing his hand only so you can rub his back. Your other finds his knee, drawing as close as you possibly can. “It’s okay.”

“How am I supposed to explain it to her?”

A tear falls, making a dark splotch on the fabric of his pants. 

“You don’t have to. She’s only five. I guarantee she’s already forgotten all about it.”

“I will. I’ll have to tell her one day. She thinks I’m perfect, how am I supposed to—”

He stops himself, voice tightening to a halt. You watch him hold back a cry like you haven’t seen in years. It’s an old, familiar ache for you. You can’t imagine how it feels for him. 

“Spencer,” you coo. “She adores you. She loves you so much. That’s never going to change.”

His nose twitches. 

“I’m going to disappoint her.”

“How? How are you going to disappoint her?”

“I think it’s pretty disappointing to find out your dad is a junkie.”

His tone isn’t particularly harsh but the words are like a slap anyway. 

“Spencer…” For a moment you don’t know what else to say. It’s not a secret that he’s ashamed of that chapter in his life, but you had no idea he was contending with this much self-loathing over it, even after all this time. It seems like such a distant point in the rearview mirror that the two of you almost never need to talk about it anymore. “You are not a junkie. It’s been, what—a decade?”

“I don’t want to have to tell her what drugs are, let alone that I... she thinks I’m the smartest guy in the world, and one day I’ll have to tell her that drugs are extremely dangerous, and I was shooting up for four months anyway. No matter how I try to explain it to her the ultimate takeaway is going to be that I’m weak and I wasn’t smart enough and she’s never, ever going to forget that. How am I supposed to—I can’t be a role model for her. I fucked up so badly.”

Your chest aches, somewhere deep and hollow, as he leans forward, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, only for a moment—before Ada shrieks and his head snaps back up. Henry is chasing her with a worm. Spencer watches on, tears still leaking from his eyes and expression otherwise neutral. It’s bittersweet to hear him express such deep insecurity about the thing he’s best at in the world, even as those parental instincts kick in and he’s setting aside his own feelings to keep an eye on her. He’s never trusted himself. He’s never seen himself the way you do. 

“Baby, you are her dad and she loves you. Her love for you is not contingent on your past. You are so, so good to her. That’s all she knows, okay? She doesn’t care what you were doing when you were 25. She cares about whether you’ll be home for dinner, and if you’ll play dolls with her, and if you’ll tuck her in. That’s all she needs to love you.”

JJ wrangles the kids and after a moment Spencer looks down again, brow furrowed deeply as drops like rain dot his lap, but he hardly makes a sound. You lay your cheek on his shoulder. “And until she’s old enough for the whole story, which involves a lot more violence than I am comfortable with her being subjected to right now, you don’t need to explain it to her. You have time.”

“She wants to know now.”

“She also wants icecream for every meal. But I can’t make her understand why that’s a bad idea. What she wants and what she needs and what she is capable of understanding are all different categories. I know you love answering all her questions, and you’re a really good teacher, but you can’t make her understand something as complex as addiction.”

Spencer sniffs. 

“Developmentally she’s only really capable of understanding the world as it exists in relation to herself.”

“Exactly. So give her some time, and give yourself some time.”

“What if she asks again?”

“Then… you say you don’t like how it makes you feel. And tell her to clean up her toys. Condition her to stop asking.”

Spencer stumbles over a teary laugh he hadn’t been expecting. You sit up straight, holding his face between your hands and encouraging him to look at you. His cheeks shine with tears, but you wipe them away tenderly. 

“You’re perfect to her,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to one cheek, “and you’re perfect to me.” He cups your elbow as you kiss the other and looks at you with so much sheer adoration you could get all choked up, too.

“Wow,” he sniffles, and takes a deep breath, pulling you into him, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Of course you do,” you mumble into his shirt, eyes fluttering shut as he presses three kisses to the curve of your neck where he’s buried his face. 

“I could be canonized as a saint and not deserve you.”

Sainthood. You ponder that. 

Saints have to live virtuously. They also have to be dead. 

You hold him a little tighter. You like him exactly how he is: technically imperfect. Probably not getting into heaven. Still venerable. Very much heroic. Alive, and with you.

“I’m really glad you’re not a saint.”

He chuckles. His hand slides up your back, and then side to side—a path it’s made time and time again which has only ever led you to wonderful, perfect places.

“Me too.”

[gilbertscurls]

Favorite Part ➵ Matt Sturniolo

warnings: smut, matt loves your tits, fingering, mommy kink, praise kink

inspired by previous request

You were lying on Matt’s bed, enjoying the feeling on his weight on top of you, his face buried in between your breasts. It has become a kind of ritual—whenever Matt got anxious, sleepy, or annoyed at his brothers, he would bury his face in your chest, claiming that it was bringing him comfort. And he looked so adorable when he asked, so who were you to deny him anything?

“You comfy?” you asked softly.

Matt mumbled something sleepily, his face nuzzling deeper into your chest. After a few more moments, he stirred slightly and muttered again, this time more clearly: “Mhm, comfy… Love you…”

He snuggled in closer, his arms tightening around your waist. You hugged him back, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest at his sleepy declaration of love. You looked down at him, his face still buried between your breasts, and you knew you’d keep him right here, exactly like this, for as long as he wanted.

Matt let out a soft, sleepy moan, his body pressing against yours as he sought out more of your warmth.

“More…” he mumbled, his hands sliding down to your backside. “Can I…? Mhm, can we…?”

His hands squeezed your ass, pulling you even closer as he nuzzled against you. Matt’s voice was muffled, but his intentions were clear: he wanted more, even in his sleep. “Please… Mommy… More…”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head in amusement as you looked down at Matt’s sleeping form. He was always so affectionate and needy, even in his sleep. You decided to indulge him, gently spreading your legs to accommodate his sleepy request. “Okay, baby.”

Matt’s hands kneaded your butt possessively as he settled between your thighs, his face still buried between your breasts. He let out a content sigh, his body relaxing even more as he drifted deeper into sleep, wrapped around you like a koala. “Mommy…”

He shifted slightly, his face rubbing against your nipple as he adjusted his position. You felt a little jolt of pleasure at the sensation and wondered if it was intentional on his part or just a happy coincidence.

As Matt shifted, his hand accidentally brushed against your clit, sending another spark of pleasure through you. He let out a soft, mumbled sound, his face still pressed against your breast, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was unconsciously seeking out more affection and comfort.

You decided to gently encourage him, slowly guiding his hand back to the spot between your thighs. Matt mumbled sleepily, his fingers curving to touch you more deliberately. His face nuzzled against your breasts as he slowly, sleepily stroked you, his touch gentle yet firm.

Suddenly, his lips wrapped around your nipple, his sleepy suckling became more insistent as his fingers continued to gently rub you. The dual sensation of his mouth and hand sent waves of pleasure through you, and you found yourself growing more and more aroused by his uninhibited actions.

“Matt… Baby…” you whispered, your voice hitching.

Matt lifted his head from your breast, his lips glistening from sucking on your nipple. His eyes were still half-closed, but there was a familiar hunger in his gaze as he looked at you. “Fuck, you taste amazing, Mommy…”

He buried his face back between your breasts, his hands more purposeful now as he caressed and kneaded your flesh. His touch grew bolder, his fingers spreading you open as he slowly pushed one, then two fingers inside you. “Mommy… So warm… So wet…”

You let out a soft moan as Matt’s fingers curled inside you, his thumb rubbing against your clit in slow, lazy circles. His face was still buried between your breasts, his breaths hot against your skin as he lazily fucked you with his fingers. “Mommy… Love your pussy… So tight…”

You ran your hands through Matt’s hair, gripping his locks as you arched your back, pressing yourself against his talented fingers. He sucked harder on your nipple, sending a hold of pleasure through you as he flicked it with his tongue.

“Matt… Oh fuck… Yes…”

Matt’s fingers pumped in and out of you, his touch slow and deliberate. His mouth worked in tandem with his hands, his lips and teeth gently teasing your breasts as he lazily worshipped your body.

“Mommy… Love making you feel so good… Love hearing you moan for me…”

“Such a good boy for me…” you praised in between the moans.

Matt’s eyes fluttered closed, a look of pure bliss spreading across his face at your words. He redoubled his efforts, his fingers picking up their pace as he sucked harder on your breasts. “Love… Love that, Mommy… Call me your good boy… Please…”

You obliged him, your voice breathless with pleasure as you moaned sweet nothings in his ear. “That’s right, my good boy… You feel so good… Don’t stop…”

Matt shivered at your praise, his fingers moving faster inside you. His touch became more urgent as he felt you getting closer. He latched onto one nipple with his mouth, sucking hard as his fingers curled inside you.

“Come for me, Mommy… Want to feel you tighten around my fingers… Please…”

Your body tensed, your walls clenching around his fingers as you came hard on his hand. Your back arched, pushing your breast even further into his mouth as he sucked greedily. Matt moaned into your skin, his fingers still pumping inside you as he rode out your orgasm.

As you came down from your high, Matt slowly removed his fingers from your pussy, bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean. He looked up at you with a satisfied smile, his face still buried between your breasts. “So beautiful, Mommy… So fucking beautiful…”

Matt snuggled back against you as he draped an arm and leg over your waist. He let out a content sigh, his body relaxing completely as he drifted back to slip, murmuring, “Love you, Mommy… Forever…”

You gently kissed his forehead, wrapping your arms around him protectively. You stayed awake for a little longer, basking in the afterglow and listening to his steady heartbeat. “I love you too, sweetheart. Forever and always…”

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom

[xxsabitoxx]

Here’s a Baby Fever Sanemi teaser for an imagine I started working on in August and simply… forgot about 😔

“Yeah, I do.” he breathed out, eyes focusing on your intertwined hands, chest picking up in pace as you both entered untouched territory with this conversation. “Well, indulge me, paint me a pretty picture, Sanemi.” He laughed, letting you go now so you could finally turn your body and face him properly. “Paint you a picture, hmm?” he questioned in a low tone, smirking at you as you nodded eagerly, that familiar glint in your eyes. You were sitting on your knees now, hands clasped neatly before you on your lap while you waited for him to speak. “Well, would you like me to paint this picture verbally, or would you rather I show you in a more… hands on way?”

You smirked, bringing your hand up to your cheek to tap it idly, pretending to think about the answer. “Well I’ve always been more of a visual learner…” You squealed, that was all Sanemi needed to hear before he was pouncing on you. The force of him pushing you back against the couch nearly took the wind out of you, laughing loudly as he nuzzled his face into your neck. You kept laughing, the feathery light kisses on your skin were ticklish. Your hands found their home in his hair, playing with the soft strands as his lips moved closer to your mouth. Sanemi loved the sound of your laughter, especially if he was the one making you laugh.

Sanemi’s lips met yours in a searing kiss, swallowing your laughter as he spread your legs apart to accommodate his weight. Your lips parted easily for him, allowing him to lick his way past your lips and dancing around your own tongue. He tasted as sweet as the honey in his tea, warm and inviting as your mouths moved against each other. Your hands intertwined in his white locks, tugging at the roots until he was shivering from the sensation. Each tug caused his cock to grow harder, the thrill of your body sending him over the edge as his hips subconsciously rolled into yours. Breathless, you parted, his face hovering just above yours as his hands came down to cup your cheek. “If we really do this, you know there is no going back, right?”

“I know, I want this.” Your tone was softer, your hands untangling from his hair so you could hold his scarred cheeks just as he held your own. “Make me a mommy, Sanemi.”

[pure-smut]

daddy.

featuring: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

contains: sneaky s*x, doggy, creampie, rough s*x, use of 'daddy' (ofc), unprotected s*x

word count: 1k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

masterlist

a/n: yay ty for this request! i'll do a separate one for 'mommy' bc that has yuji written all over it lmao enjoy daddy toji!!

@shinysp4rk

You’re at a dinner with your parents in their house with your boyfriend, Toji Fushiguro, so you know you shouldn’t act up. But when Toji’s sitting right next to you and he’s wearing that tight black shirt…

You really can’t help yourself.

You’ve been reaching under the table to squeeze his thigh throughout the starter, reaching slowly up higher and higher until it’s the main course and your hand is practically over his dick.

Toji’s been shooting you warning glances all night, trying hard to make small talk with your parents – not an easy feat for him at the best of times – but you’re relentless. When you reach up a little higher and palm his bulge through his jeans, Toji nearly jumps out of his seat.

He coughs a little too loudly, rising to his feet suddenly and strategically holding his napkin in front of his crotch.

“Uh, excuse me for sec,” Toji says, nodding apologetically to your parents before shooting you an angry look and walking out.

You hear him stomp upstairs to the bathroom.

“Sorry, he’s had a hard day at work,” you say with a shrug. “I’ll go check on him.”

Your parents exchange a look but nod agreeably as you follow Toji upstairs. He’s just coming out of the bathroom when you bump into him, a scowl on his face. Your eyes slide down to the obvious bulge in his jeans, a grin crawling across your lips.

“You didn’t manage to get rid of it?” you tease.

“It’s a process,” Toji growls back. “It’s going down and so help me god if you do anything to bring it back up-”

“I’m sorry,” you interrupt sweetly, sidling up to him to smooth your hand over his large chest. “Have I been bad, daddy?”

Toji’s not a man who’s easily caught off guard – in fact, he’s always one step ahead of you, always knows what you’re about to do before you do it.

But not this time.

Toji’s lips part and you feel him freeze under your touch.

“What did you just call me?” he chokes out.

“Hmm?” You play innocent, running your hand from his chest down his hard stomach, lifting yourself onto your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Daddy?”

Toji moves like lightning, snatching your wrist and dragging you down the hall. You barely have time to protest before he’s pushing you face first against the wall, his hand curled around the back of your neck to pin you in place. Toji’s other hand makes quick work of your panties, reaching under your dress to pull them roughly down.

He runs his fingers across your folds, testing how wet you are. You squeak in surprise at the feeling and his hand tightens around your neck.

“Stay fucking quiet,” Toji says lowly against the shell of your ear. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Your parents are downstairs, remember?”

You swallow thickly, hearing the muffled conversation between them in the dining room below your feet.

“You that desperate for daddy’s cock, hmm?” Toji continues, keeping his voice just above a deep whisper. “Actin’ up, teasin’ me, like such a needy little slut.”

You nod as much as you can, trapped between Toji’s large hand and the wall.

“Y-Yes, daddy,” you whisper back. “W-Want your cock.”

“Yeah, I can tell, fuck.” Toji smears your slick against your lips, in awe of how wet you are. “We need to be quick, princess, but I’ll give you a nice, long fuck tonight, hmm?”

“Yes, daddy, please.” You push your hips back, seeking him. “Please.”

“That’s a good girl.”

You feel Toji push his thick tip past your lips and brace yourself. He doesn’t usually let you take all of him without some prep first but you don’t have time for it right now. Still, when he pushes himself in, you have to bite your lip hard to keep from squealing out loud.

You stretch to accommodate him quickly, his girth pushing against all the nerves inside you as he fills you with his cock. Toji can feel you tense up so he reaches around under you to start playing with your puffy clit.

“Relax, baby,” he breathes against your ear. “Let me in.”

You exhale a shaky breath and try to force yourself to relax around him, the feel of his deft fingers on your clit making it easier.

Toji starts pump slowly, only going halfway so you don’t make any noise from skin slapping against skin. Even his shallow thrusts are enough for your breathing to turn ragged, his cock dragging along the nerves at your entrance combined with the tight circles he’s making on your clit.

Below you, you can hear the sounds of cutlery clanging against plates and footsteps as someone walks into the kitchen.

“Fuck, princess, daddy’s gotta be quick,” Toji groans in your ear, picking up speed.

You’re squeezing him so tight, your needy little hole massaging his cock in a way that’s making it hard for him to think. He wants to make you cum, wants to hear the desperate little noises you make as he draws orgasm after orgasm out of you, but that’ll need to be for later.

Right now, he’s painfully hard and on the brink of his own euphoria.

“You want daddy’s cum?” Toji’s cock throbs at his own words.

He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he unleashes himself inside you, cock twitching as he spurts thick ropes of cum deep in your dripping pussy. You both stay there for a moment, stifling your heavy breathing, as Toji presses kisses against your shoulder.

“Clean yourself up quickly before your parents notice,” he instructs, before kissing your neck. “And definitely call me that again tonight.”

masterlist

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[luveline]

Please a Hotch (new girl dad LMFAO) little fic where he discovers the joys and wonders of being a girl dad 😭🤍 like dressing up and playing tea party, or ‘honey, what do I put in her hair?? A bow? A ribbon?? A headband?? A clip??’ Or something about their baby girl always running to him when she bumps her head or falls!! I think it would be really cute

“Do you mind?” you ask through giggles. 

Aaron rubs his hand up the length of your stomach. It tickles in a strange way, but you’re laughing because he’s cornered you on the couch. He takes up the entirety of your view, the air hot between your close faces. 

“No,” he says simply. He has big hands, warm hands. They leave heat in their wake where they touch you. 

“No, come on. I can’t see Jane.” You’re mostly kidding. You really can’t see Jane, but she’s about three feet away, and your living room is baby proofed.

Aaron peeks behind his shoulder. His smile says more than words —he must have caught her smiling herself. “You okay, honey?”

“Yes. Okay. Okay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m okay, I’m just giving mommy some kisses.” Aaron strokes your stomach with a loving thumb. “You want to come over here for a cuddle?” 

Jane doesn’t answer. Aaron turns back to you with a glowing smile. “She’s very happy. Now let me kiss you–” You’re laughing again as he kisses you, your cheek, the high point and the end of your brow. 

“I can’t believe you’ve cornered me,” you say, nudging him away to hold his face in your hands. “It’s too warm in here for this, you need to give me some space.”

“I don’t want space from you,” he jokes, matching your playful tone.

“Daddy!” Jack calls from somewhere deeper in the house. “I need help!”

“With what?” he calls, sitting up and away from your touch. He squeezes your leg as he leaves, his voice echoing against the hallway walls, “Jack? What’s the problem, buddy?” 

He waits for an answer he doesn’t get before heading upstairs. You weren’t lying when you said it was too hot for kisses —the winter chill is pervasive and Jane is vulnerable to the cold, so the heat is high and the Hotchner boys are pink in the cheeks every time you see them. You fan your face, tracking Jane’s clumsy waddling as she ferries a pink teddy bear next to her baby doll beside the picnic blanket you’d laid out for her. 

“Having fun, Janey?” you ask. 

“Baba,” she mumbles. 

“Alright, that’s fun. How about I go make us some dinner?” 

“Babababa…” 

“Bababa,” you say back. 

You set about cleaning the mess she’s making before it can explode and prop the door between the living room and the kitchen open to watch her while you peel some potatoes. She plays happily for a while, and upstairs you can hear the celebratory shouts of the boys having figured something out. “Come have some juice before you do the next part,” Aaron says. 

With a sudden bump and a telling silence, Jane falls over. You drop your potatoes and wipe your hands on your front, prepared to sweep her up in your arms and coo away any tears. Her crying rings like a storm siren, so loud you miss the rush of footsteps down the stairs. 

“Baby,” you say softly, holding out your arms as you approach. Aaron and Jack trickle into the room behind her. “Let mommy see? What did you do, huh?” 

She climbs onto her feet. You don't even realise she’s looking away from you until she’s running at her father’s legs, completely ignoring your offered embrace. “Oh, sweetheart,” Aaron says, bending down to meet her. “What did you do? You hurt yourself? Let me have a look. Let me see.” 

Your chest is a pit, that falling feeling as though you’ve missed a step, but the open joy on Aaron’s face soothes any jealousy quickly. “What did you do?” he asks again, lifting his head to accommodate her little body as she wraps her arms and legs around him. He picks her up. She looks small under his chin. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

Jack weaves around him to hug your thigh. “Did she fall?” he asks. 

He can come to you for anything, big or small, just like Jane can go to her father. You ruffle his soft hair with a smile. “She’s just shocked when things don’t feel nice because she’s so little. It probably didn’t hurt very much, okay? Don’t worry.” 

“Don’t listen to mommy,” Aaron murmurs, patting what looks like the entire span of Jane’s back with a barely opened palm, “I’m sure it hurt lots and lots.” 

“Dad,” she mumbles tearily.

Aaron gives you the look. One he does all too often when he’s feeling grateful for the things he has, his brow pinched into a gentler furrow than usual. “I know, honey. That floor is so mean, always hurting you. I think we should get some soft carpets instead, what do you think?” 

Jack tugs on your hand. “Can you make me some apple juice, please? I think he will be here for a while.” 

You’re thinking there’ll be carpets fitted in here within the month. “Sure, babe. You wanna help me make some French fries?” 

[allpiesforourown]

why does your asshole roommate bingge not want his mom (the washerwoman) to get any. does he not want her happy? does he hate women

HE'S TIRED!! of women hitting on his mommy!!!

Okay so we know the washerwoman in canon was weak because of sickness, but in a world where she can get afford health care and has accommodating employers like the Shens, she'd be able to work. And since a lot of housework requires a surprising amount of strength, she'd have slight muscle definition.

Now imagine you are Binghe; your mom has a tan from gardening at work and her toned arms are on display. The two of you help a woman in the parking lot carry her groceries to her car. This woman has heart eyes as your mom says "this is nothing, carrying laundry all day has me used to this." Your mom introduces you as her son and the smile on the strangers face immediate falls. She looks put out and says "oh you're married..." before your mom explains "oh no, Binghe isn't mine by blood" and this woman who wants your mom so bad bursts into smiles again. This is the 3rd time this week this has happened.

Luo Binghe cares about two people in his life: his mother and Yuan ge and they're both always getting hit on!!!!!

[lorelune]

O4O: part i

|| jing yuan x reader || E/18+ || omega for omega, soft smut || wc: 10.3k  || ao3 ||

Jing Yuan has been content riding out his heats alone for centuries. You, despite being another omega, are happy to lend a hand if Jing Yuan will have you.

minors, antis and ageless blogs dni

💦🎀 this piece is apart of SPRING FEVER: an omegaverse collab! 🎀💦

part i (here) — part ii — part iii (coming soon!)

notes: hello omega jing yuan omega jing yuan save me... the way omega jy has haunted me for months. MONTHS. this fic is incredibly indulgent soft, needy smut with non-traditional a/b/o dynamics. THANK YOU to the lovely @owlespresso for beta reading!! please read the tags and enjoy!! <3

CW: a/b/o dynamics, omega jing yuan (with afab and amab anatomy), omega reader (afab anatomy), past yingxing/jing yuan/dan feng, bottom jing yuan flavors (though reader does not do any penetration), use of toys, worldbuilding around omegaverse, lots of biting, milfy jing yuan, mommy kink without the word mommy (at least not in this part 👀💗!!),

Jing Yuan has not shared his heat with anyone in a very, very long time. Centuries, most certainly. Jing Yuan doesn’t find it very useful to keep track of that length of time— he finds it cumbersome if anything. There’s no use holding onto a past that only forces him to redigest pain. 

Jing Yuan rarely has heats. He keeps a diligent schedule of medication and only has to go through them once every decade or so. Occasionally less, if the Luofu is passing a particular star system or comet field. His heats are always cumbersome. He can conceal his omegan sensibilities often, but it is more difficult prior to a heat.

Preheat is a different beast.

When Jing Yuan sequesters himself in his estate for the better part of a week, anyone who knows he’s even there assumes it is to go through a rut. A week is a standard amount of time to take off for a rut and is expected. However, a heat has a standard time off of about two and a half weeks. Much longer to accommodate preheat and nesting needs. 

Jing Yuan rarely indulges his own. 

The Luofu, at large, assumes he is an alpha. This is manufactured, however only partially. Generally, the citizens of the Luofu assume, given that he is the General and he has a larger, broad-shouldered stature, that he is an Alpha through and through. He always wears scent patches in public, which is normal for both omegas and alphas. Betas, too, occasionally. Depending on the subtype. The Charioteers know that he is an omega, but they are committed to some amount of discretion and guard the information as a secret. Lady Fu, an alpha, will occasionally scold him for being so secretive. Like he harbors some sort of self-hatred that he is an omega. 

It is simply more convenient for him to be seen as an alpha. Jing Yuan doesn’t wish to disturb this perception.

And therefore, it is much easier to wait as long as possible between heats and bear them alone. Whatever instincts he has can be satiated with toys and a half-decent nest. Jing Yuan has always considered this enough. ‘Enough’. 

(It’s not sating. Jing Yuan cannot lie to himself about this. He remembers laying with Yingxing, and how the alpha made him feel more full and content than Jing Yuan had ever thought possible during a heat. Or ever, truthfully. He remembers how calming Dan Feng’s presence had been— grounding and reassuring, too. Jing Yuan was fucked, filled and protected. An omega’s dream.)

Jing Yuan... copes with what he has. A large, plush bed with a downy mattress, a few donated, alpha-scented garments, and a collection of inflatable, knotting toys. He always leaves his heat with lingering cramps, a brutalized hole, and a yearning that takes a few weeks to quiet itself. 

It is natural that he craves his mates. Even if they are long dead (not dead. Not really. Not the same as they once were, anyway.)

And certainly, never to be his again. The mating mark on his neck has long faded.

Jing Yuan tracks his heat so such yearning can be anticipated and planned for. He knows when his heat is approaching, down to the specific day it will occur. He titrates off his suppressants carefully, and maps out a portion of time off for himself a year or so in advance. 

Which is why it is very odd that he starts exhibiting preheat symptoms in the middle of the day, a random day, during a tactical meeting.

Even if he had been titrating down his dose in anticipation for a planned heat in a few months time, it is far, far too early to begin feeling symptoms. The familiar itchiness prickling under his skin is entirely unexpected. Jing Yuan has to put a particularly large amount of effort to get through this unnecessary meeting without letting a single symptom slip. He can only adjust in his seat so many times before it is improper, or juggle the cradle of his jaw from one hand to the other before it is clear something is wrong. 

If any of the Charioteers and their advisers notice anything amiss with him, they say nothing. The only one who looks off-put is Fu Xuan. She’s a spitfire alpha herself, and perhaps she’s keen enough to notice that Jing Yuan is beginning to feel... unwell. Though he is masking his scent as he always does, he imagines that the flush in his cheeks is becoming increasingly obvious.

Fu Xuan gives Jing Yuan a wary look as the meeting is dismissed.

“General,” She says curtly. “Are you well?”

“I’m fine,” He gives her a rich laugh as he stands, muffling a groan as his stiff back and knees ache. He’d sat for too long. He feels light-headed as he rights himself and Fu Xuan glares at him.

“I doubt that,” Fu Xuan huffs. “I will not interrogate you in public, nor do I think you would give me an honest answer even if I did—”

“So little trust in me, Master Diviner—”

“ However, I will urge you to go home. ” She takes a step closer and sniffs the air. It’s just the two of them in the meeting room now, the rest of the parties in attendance having filtered out. Subtly and without fanfare, she takes his hand in her own, and presses her wrist to his. Jing Yuan keeps an easy grin on his face but can’t help the way he tenses his fingers, flexing them at the contact. “Do you need an escort?”

“Is Lady Fu worrying for me? How kind.”

“I’m— not, ” Fu Xuan huffs now and more roughly smears their wrists together. The scent gland she is almost abusing is swollen and hot to the touch. It takes all of his composure not to squirm with her treatment. “I’m no fool. If you have a heat starting, you should be comfortable at home, not in a war room.”

“Master Diviner, you think I’m an omega?” Jing Yuan says with a smile. He knows she is already privy to this, but he can’t resist teasing her a bit.

“You are insufferable. Even in this state. Go home. I will take you there myself.”

“I’m afraid I can’t return home just yet,” He hums. He imagines he has a few hours before proper pre-heat sets in. “I have a lunch date that I cannot miss.”

“You— a lunch date?”

“Yes, of course. It’s a scheduled event, dear Diviner.”

“Do not patronize me.”

Jing Yuan laughs as she fumes. He has the urge to ruffle her hair, but thinks better of it. The complicated updo would surely be ruffled, and Jing Yuan is already getting an earful as it is. 

“I would never.”

Fu Xuan yanks her arm away with a growl. She wears some type of masking perfume, she always has, but with her frustration swirling, a bit of her actual scent peaks through. It’s light on the back of his tongue, floral almost. Nearly inedible, but the kind of scent Jing Yuan that makes him nostalgic—

(For a master with a scent like frost-covered roses, and a packmate with a scent filled with springtime lilac blossoms in fat clusters.)

“If this lunch is really so necessary, may I escort you there at least? Or will your alpha be meeting you here?”

“They’re not an alpha.” Jing Yuan hums. His stomach feels warm regardless. “And I’ll be just fine getting there myself.”

Fu Xuan looks at him, questioningly. Her lips open, then close once more. There are questions she clearly has. And for all her brashness and hot-blooded fervor, she understands decorum better than most. She pries out of care and her good intentions, and Jing Yuan can respect that if nothing else.

“I’ll concede,” Fu Xuan sighs. “ However, please let me know if there’s anything else you need. You have my number.”

“Noted.” Jing Yuan rises, and feels the heat clouding his head sink lower in his body. He’s being engulfed. 

Fu Xuan deadpans, “General—”

“Have a good rest of your day, Master Diviner,” He calls with a light laugh, slipping away before Fu Xuan can give him any further grief.

...

As the Arbiter General of the Luofu, Jing Yuan knows its streets and secrets very well. There’s more than one way to arrive at his favored terrace garden without being seen or smelt by the public. It is helpful that this path is lined near an aqueduct stream, surrounded by lush greenery and clumps of fragrant azure asters. This path is tucked away, straddling an external tunnel of the Luofu’s inner tunnels. Really, only the Calibrators aboard the ship use it, and as there are only a few and they tend to keep to their delve, Jing Yuan has very little fear walking this way at his own leisure.

He is glad you tend to take your lunch dates in the privacy of this particular garden, under the gazebo and nestled atop its many silken blankets and pillows. A conventional restaurant in this state would be doable, but unideal. 

Jing Yuan can smell you as he approaches. It makes him pause, just outside the gate. His hands hovers over his jade abacus as he opens his mouth to taste you in the back of his mouth.

(Warm, a familiar scent that he associates with the rare indulgence of relaxation. It’s not overly sweet or ripe, but balanced and full-bodied. Not quite floral or fruity, and not deep enough to be akin to an aged black tea. Perhaps like the roll of a hearth or the beeswax of a lit candle.)

He’s sighs. It calms him instantly. 

Even if you aren’t an alpha, you are familiar, as is the current setting.

You’re sitting at a low table in the shade of the gazebo. There are several plates of cheeses, cut fruits, salted meats, and nuts laid out. You’re ladling sticky honey into a small dish as he enters, and look up at the sound of the gate closing.

You smile when you see him.

“General,” You smile. “I apologize, I started setting up lunch without you. Everything should still be chilled.”

“No need to be sorry,” he laughs gently, brushing a hand against your shoulder before rounding the table, and taking a seat across from you. “I could never complain about your diligence. You have chosen quite the spread today, haven’t you?”

You flush with a nod, and gesture down to the table, “The markets were lovely today, I had to splurge. You’ll have to let me know what you think.”

“Only if you do the same.”

“I-I can do that,” You smile at him softly.

Despite your familiarity, you still regard him with some amount of anxiety. Jing Yuan has long since placed this has less to do with his status as General, and more than likely due to a deepened amount of affection that Jing Yuan... entertains. Enjoys. Thrives off of, even. He perhaps returns it, though he hasn’t told you that explicitly.

Besides, you believe him to be an alpha. He’s sure that, if you did know his secondary gender, such affections would fade quickly. The allure of what he could provide as an alpha is quite different from what he can provide as an omega.

Jing Yuan takes a sip of sparkling juice, and as he lowers the thin-necked glass, you look at him strangely. A crease knits itself between your brows.

“Did I get some on my face?” Jing Yuan chuckles and wipes at the corners of his mouth with his thumb.

“No... you just,” You stumble with your words, hands flexing in your lap. “Are... are you alright? Your cheeks look quite warm, and you’re sweating around your hairline.” 

You always have been keen to bodies other than your own. It’s not the most common trait. 

“... Am I?” Jing Yuan could choose to lie at this moment. It would be easy to say he was using a new brand of suppressants, or blame it on a stressful day. However, he doesn't like lying to you, only twisting the truth when entirely necessary. “I do suppose I’m at that point in my cycle.”

“Oh!” You startle and sit up more straight. You push a plate at him. “Pre-rut? You should eat, then. You’ll need your strength. Do— do you have someone I can call? I don’t mind.”

Your worry is cute. 

Jing Yuan can’t help thinking about it. You are an omega full of so much care and urge to help. Jing Yuan has seen it and experienced it many times, and has also seen how it has gotten you into unfortunate situations. You have a trusting mind and spirit, and more than once, it has been used against you. 

Jing Yuan likes keeping you close, so he can look after you, even if it’s from a distance.

He stares down at the plate. There’s a pile of glistening orange grapes, a few roses of sliced, cured meats, a chunk of honeycomb, and buttery looking crackers. It does look delicious, however Jing Yuan has always struggled to eat in his pre-heat. When he looks up at you to decline, your expression looks even more worried, almost sour.

Before he can speak, you are. Petal-soft lips lips downturned. “Are you... not in pre-rut, General?”

He deflates, slightly. He is old— and. He does not wish to steer you away from what is a correct assumption. You are his most trusted companion.

“I am not,” He says softly, and picks up one of the grapes. He squeezes. The skin is taut and tight. “And, please call me Jing Yuan. Formalities can be dropped, yes?”

“I— yes, of course.” You look from his plate to him. “So, you’re... pre-heat?”

“I am, yes.”

“Oh!” You immediately heap his plate with several other kinds of fruit, and grab a clean glass and pour ice water from a pitcher into it. “I apologize— for. Making such an assumption.”

“No need to apologize.” He soothes and lays a hand over yours. “I’m aware of what the vast majority of the Luofu assumes my secondary gender to be. It does not bother me. If it did, I would have corrected the greater public long ago. I apologize for not telling you directly until now.”

“It’s— okay,” you reply. Perhaps a bit hurt. “I never asked. I just— I just thought. Wrong.”

(Please be kinder to yourself, he thinks. It hurts to see you saddened on my account.)

“Nonsense,” he laughs and gracefully takes the water you offer. He downs the glass down his parched throat. He— hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. “No harm done. If anything, I’m grateful that you now know.”

(Regardless of how it could change your feelings toward him.)

Jing Yuan has tempered heartbreak for millenia. Another one— is not nothing, but it is manageable. Perhaps not during preheat, but he still has time to mourn. 

“I’m glad too,” you tell him, and squeeze back his hand. You only scent him sometimes, always so shy about it, but now you firmly rub the scent gland in your wrist against his. His aches, and the sensation and exchange of pheromones nearly makes him wheeze. He straightens his spine. 

“Was that—?” You almost pull away.

“No, it’s very welcome.”

You stare at him, intent and soft, before settling. Tentatively, you rub at the gland in gentle circles.

“You should eat,” you say after a moment. “Do you have an alpha I can call? Or— um, anything you need me to pick up for you?”

“I am fine.” Jing Yuan will text Qingzu for the essentials, rather than troubling you. “I’ll finish lunch with you, and then see myself home.”

“... No alpha to pick you up?”

“None to speak of, no.” Jing Yuan manages a smile.

(It has been— centuries since Jing Yuan had an alpha to care for and stake a claim on him. The notion of finding another has been put out of his mind since he himself had to confine Dan Feng to the Shackling Prison and exile the man Yingxing became. Even after meeting them as they are today, Jing Yuan knows they are no longer his mates.)

“Oh.” 

Every one of your emotions is so clearly on your face. You look so sad for him and you squeeze his hand. He has half a mind to pull away, and remind you that he does not need your worry. However, he is in pre-heat, and by Lan, he is craving worry.  

“And... heatmates?” You ask. “I don’t want to pry, but it’s hard to spend a heat alone.”

“Once again, none.” Jing Yuan replies without hesitating. The silence that follows is poignant as you study him. 

“I see.” You frown again, clearly thinking. Jing Yuan can see the thoughts turning around just behind your eyes. You pile on even more fruits to his plate. “Eat, eat. You need it.”

“This much fruit will give me a stomach ache, I fear.”

“Some of it, at least!” You huff at him. “For me, please?”

Jing Yuan meets your gaze, easy and soft. There’s no threat, only the heat that matches your scent and the feel that radiates in his chest.

(You are not his alpha. You are something entirely different— something that he wants so badly to hold.)

“For you.”

...

By the end of lunch (in which, Jing Yuan does manage to eat a decent amount of the fruit you’d put on his plate), Jing Yuan’s pre-heat has begun to simmer into a more uncomfortable territory. He desperately wants to shed his uniform and armor, and slip into a robe and no bottoms. He hasn’t begun to slick yet, but he will surely start to by sundown.

Jing Yuan stands after the meal, stretching. It’s proper afternoon now, and the birds of the garden chirp eveningsong. 

“Jing Yuan?” You ask as he stretches his arms above his head. His name sounds lovely in your mouth.

He hums, “Yes?”

“Do you want a heatmate?” You ask quietly. 

He looks at you. 

You’re fiercely meeting his gaze, even though you’re clearly struggling to. Your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth, and you’re fighting a frown from the crinkles on your forehead. Regardless, you stand your ground and ask a question that is surely difficult to broach, especially so directly.

“I—I am offering.” You stammer. “To clarify.”

“To be my heatmate?”

“Yes— I hate to think of you suffering alone, Jing Yuan. If I can be by your side to ease it, if only a little, I would like to be.”

“That is very brave of you to ask.” He smiles with a tilt of his head. “And bold.”

“I— I’m being honest.” You almost whine. It’s so cute. “Is that a no?”

“No, not at all.” Jing Yuan replies. “However, I wouldn’t want you to help solely for my benefit. If you wish to enter my nest exclusively to be an aid, and not out of... personal wants, I would feel guilty.”

“It’s— it’s personal wants too.”

“... Is it now?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Even though I’m not an alpha, as you thought?”

“Yes.”

“You’re certain.”

“ Yes, Jing Yuan.” 

“I cannot give you a knot—”

“I do not need one!” You break, much to Jing Yuan’s amusement. “I am happy to be by your side, regardless of that! If anything, I’m more than happy to share a nest with you without the assurance of a limp and a potential pup.”

Jing Yuan smiles, almost unrestrained, and your cheeks heat deliciously. 

You stammer, and poke at his chest, “You’re teasing me—!”

“I apologize, you must forgive me—”

“ Rude—!”

Your bury your face in his chest and nuzzle there. It’s— clearly a self soothing action, one you realize a moment too late isn’t quite proper. You stiffen, beginning to draw away, before Jing Yuan catches you by your scruff and holds you there. 

“You’re alright,” He holds a wide palm there. “I apologize for teasing you. I mean so warmly.”

“... Scoundrel.” The sound muffles into his chest.

“Am I?”

You peer up at him, so warm in the cheeks and eyes... almost watery. Something in his chest feels sticky and molten. 

“ Yes—” You dare to meet his eyes again. “But, one I’m very fond of.”

Jing Yuan steels himself.

You are an omega. It is not your pheromones addling his mind. There is clarity in the attraction and affection he has for you, one not influenced by the urge to be knotted and bred. Though, Jing Yuan wants that, maybe part of him needs it. There is a trunk full of toys and implements he has tucked away that will sate the urge. The feelings that he carries for you will not so easily be placated.

“I would like it very much if you were to share my heat with me,” He speaks softly, just for the two of you to hear. Not even the garden birds will know his words. “If you are still offering.”

“Yes,” You say quickly, tentatively wrapping your arms around his waist. “Yes.”

He chuckles, easy and low, and presses his nose into your hair. Perhaps it’s pre-heat, making him sentimental and mushy. He usually hides out and bears it alone in his comfiest nest so these feelings typically do not get expressed in any other way other than delirious, anguished cries while a knotting toy takes the edge off. 

Jing Yuan finds these are nice to indulge, as your scent envelopes him.

...

“I lied earlier,” Jing Yuan says as you enter the threshold of his estate. “I apologize sincerely.”

“Oh?” You ask with a tilt of your head, accepting a pair of house slippers eagerly. “... What about?”

“I am in pre-heat unexpectedly. Though I have been tapering suppressants for an anticipated heat, it has come far earlier than planned . Things are... not as I would like them. You’ll need to excuse me for a few moments.”

Jing Yuan, like any omega, is particular about his home and nest, especially around his heat. He knows his home and inner chambers are not to his liking and he’ll need to prepare them. Even if you aren’t an alpha entering his nest, you are a guest and companion he is very fond of. You deserve only the best.

“Of course, whatever you need,” you assure him. “Do you need me to grab anything while you do so? I don’t mind running to the market—”

Jing Yuan turns on his heel, grabbing your arm firmly, “You’re not leaving.”

“O-Oh.”

Your eyes widen, and heat rises in your cheeks. Your throat bobs as you swallow and nod. Jing Yuan— were he not in pre-heat, would perhaps be a bit embarrassed by his brazeness. However, now? The idea of you leaving his home sends him reeling. You cannot leave— not until you smell like him and his nest. Not until— not until this is over.

“I sent a request to Qingzu to fetch us a few things during the walk over. She’ll be here shortly. I do, however, have a bowl of fruit that could be cut up while I get myself sorted. How does that sound?” 

You nod eagerly, happy to follow instruction. Jing Yuan knows this about you and enjoys it thoroughly.

He sets you up in the kitchen with a bowl of sunsiettas, a box of meldberries, and a few bunches of perfectly ripe, round kaishen grapes. Jing Yuan leaves you to the task, which he can already tell you will do dutifully. You thrive off of praise and direction. It’s a dangerous trait of an omega to carry, even more terrifying to hold openly as you do. Jing Yuan knows it has burned you before.

However, he intends to indulge you well and kindly, as it pleases him very much.

His mind, far-too warm and itchy, yearns to spin fantasies as he locks himself in his room with a shake of his head. 

He must keep it together. Just for awhile longer. His bed is— not a nest. Not the nest he wants (needs) it to be. His duvet, thick and luxurious as it is, needs a fluffing and a fresh scenting. His pillows are not arranged to his liking, and he needs to poke through his linen closet and add some extra layers as well. He needs to make sure there’s lube nearby with clean toys. Water out. His phone charged and volume on— (though, he already sent a message to Qingzu stating his heat has hit and he’ll be out for at least a week. ‘Defer to Diviner Fu :3’ , which is Jing Yuan’s payment to Lady Fu for the list of errands he had sent her.)

Jing Yuan shakes his head with a laugh. The little alpha will certainly be pleased when she hear she’ll get to play General for a while. 

Pre-heat drives him forward. He sheds his many layers (without aid, which is objectively a headache and he regrets not asking you for assistance initially. However, Jing Yuan is fairly certain that if he were to be fully bare around you, regardless of his pre- heat or not, he may jump you and drag you into his nest—)

Pre-heat is also making him somewhat irrational.  

He throws on his favored robe, a silken, cream-colored garment with delicate gold and red embroidery around the hems. The sleeves drape at his wrists and a sash ties it snugly around his waist. The itch that’s been rolling around just under his skin feels duller, with the less restrictive garment. The fabric crosses over his chest in a way that is... revealing. Probably too revealing, under any other circumstance, especially given that you have never seen him in anything less than his daily regalia. 

The thought of looking so indecent around you has its allure to it. One that Jing Yuan lets himself entertain with a smitten smile as he works.

He is attracted to you, surely. This he knows and has known. 

Jing Yuan acknowledges that this is both emotional and physical. You are dear to him, truly. In a way that is unique to any of the connections, he holds in the present. Your presence is one he thoroughly enjoys, and, more than once, (many times), has craved during his late-evening ruminations in his courtyard. He— has thought about inviting you over, if for nothing else than a chat in the moonlight and tea or wine to your preference, however—

He has always stopped himself.

Yearning, he will allow in the ways he has learned to manage it over the centuries. Small doses of longing that can be enjoyed and swallowed down, without festering. Being brazen with his wants and feelings is... slipperier. Especially concerning you, as you are dear to him, and Jing Yuan, for better or for worse, would like to share space with you for as long as he can manage. 

This attraction is regardless of secondary gender. 

Jing Yuan has not cared about secondary gender for a great while (since he shared a bed with a short-lived alpha and one of Long’s Scions, who, like all Vidyadhara, did not have a secondary gender at all.) 

Your presentation as an omega was never a deterrent to him. If anything, it was something of a comfort. Jing Yuan was claimed long ago, and he knows that no alpha’s claim will feel the same as Yingxing’s and he wouldn’t want anyone, especially you, to attempt to emulate it. The ownership of a claim was not something he sought. Jing Yuan has had his heart broken enough for this lifetime. He is sure you could rend his heart asunder, however it would not be in the way of losing a mate that he is biologically tied to. 

Statistically, Jing Yuan is lucky that such a loss did not cause him to become Mara struck five hundred years ago.

He is very content with whatever your relationship could become. If nothing else, the prospect of it allures him. Especially now that you know his presentation and clearly seem undeterred yourself. If— if anything. Your scent calmed and cooled when he’d told you on the terraces. 

Another thing that Jing Yuan will have to parse when he isn’t so wet that he’s leaving puddles in his wake. 

For now, Jing Yuan’s nest is satisfactory aside from a few personal items. 

Now, all it’s missing is you. 

...

Jing Yuan does not find you in the kitchen, but rather the foyer, wishing Qingzu a goodbye with a wave and shout. 

Jing Yuan must—

(Temper his instincts because you are far too close to the door and you need to be in his nest and his teeth need to be in you and his scent on you—)

“Jing Yuan,” you say to him warmly, with a smile. There are a few canvas bags on your arms. “How are you feeling—?”

Jing Yuan can’t stop himself from dragging you away from the tall set of doors and back to the kitchen. You squawk at his firmness, but don’t reject his touch. He helps you heft the bags onto a low table. His own arms shake, with both the strain and his own heat-induced weakness.

“It’s really progressing, huh?” You tentatively raise a hand, and place it on his forearm to stroke there.

Jing Yuan practically purrs when you rub over the silken fabric, “It is. Quickly. However, my nest and appropriate supplies are ready. Did Qingzu deliver all that I asked?”

“It seems so.”

There are— three more bottles of lube. A few pearly-looking medicine pills, a specialty item from the Alchemy Commission. Several stacks of ready-made meals and electrolyte powder. There are several vials of milky-looking oils he had her grab for more scandalous purposes as Jing Yuan would like to avoid any type of friction abrasion. Lastly, there are few unmarked boxes with new toys.

“You’re so well-prepared.” Your eyes are wide as you take stock of the haul. Jing Yuan bundles things into a basket and ushers you to his nest.

“I have gone through many heats,” he chuckles. “I have learned the best tricks.”

“I-I can see.”

As you enter his bedroom, you stare at his nest with wide eyes. You jump when Jing Yuan locks the door.

“... Is that alright?” Jing Yuan asks.

“Yes, yes, of course. I just—” You swallow. “I haven’t ever helped another omega through a heat. If you have any pointers or preferences, let me know while you’re still in your full mind, please? I’d like to make this as comfortable for you as possible.”

Jing Yuan thinks for a moment. With a tilt of his head, he rests his hands on your shoulders. Your scent is spiced, a bit nervous, but also undeniably aroused. Your gaze darts down to his exposed collarbones and chest, then quickly back up to his eyes. Heat rises fiercely in your cheeks. 

“Your presence will be helpful in and of itself,” he assures you with a squeeze. Carefully, he hooks his thumbs on your outer garment and pulls it down, undoing buttons and ties along the way. Your lips part, breath hot. “I’ll guide you as I need. My heats tend to be mild, though they do last a full week. There will be lulls, which I tend to be quite worn out during. I’ll need your assistance more than anything.”

You nod, taking in his response. 

Jing Yuan— he’s holding it together. Slick is beginning to drip down his inner thighs and there’s an ache in his core that feels heavier and hotter by the minute. However, he does want to do this part slowly. He prides himself on his patience. Piece by piece, he takes off your day clothes and tosses them into his nest. Without them, your scent is stronger. Your neck is bare from any topical or adhesive blockers.

“During the rest of it though?” You ask, softly. “When you’re in the throes of it.”

Jing Yuan hums, letting a shaking hand rest on the curve of your waist, “I’m not certain. It’s been quite some time since I’ve shared a heat with anyone.”

“... Really?”

“Yes.” Jing Yuan presses his lips to your forehead without thinking. The heat of it, of you, sinks into his own. He feels like he’s going to burn up. “Does that surprise you?”

“Yes.” You answer, and push yourself closer to his neck. Your lips part to taste his scent on the back of your tongue. “You are a catch. I know you have quite the lineup of suitors... I just assumed.“

“You also assumed I was an alpha.”

“The General is a skillful liar.”

Jing Yuan clicks his tongue, sliding a hand below your last garments. Satin, lacey things that are almost sheer. Thin. He could tear them easily, but doesn’t. His touch lingers.

“ Jing Yuan,” he reminds you. You stammer before pitching into him. He carefully walks the two of you backwards. His legs are close to giving out. “And I’d like to think of it as a skillful withholding of unnecessary information.”

“ Jing Yuan is very good with his words,” You murmur into the soft skin of his neck, lingering around one of the scent glands there. They ache, sore and unstimulated.

So carefully, you stretch up on your tiptoes to nose at one of them. Your scents bloom together and his eyes almost roll back into his head at the meld of it, the relief and rush of connection. 

It’s the last push Jing Yuan needs before dragging you into his nest with a stifled moan. Coherency is shattered and all he can do is crave, crave, crave.

...

You are a good heatmate.

Astoundingly good. Attentive, kind, and so soft. It’s a relief to Jing Yuan, who’s heat-addled mind is so used to loneliness and cold. You do not have the scent or knot of an alpha, but you’re more than enough. It’s presence and comfort in a way Jing Yuan so, so missed. It’s enough in a different way— and that difference is good. 

(You are not Yingxing or Dan Feng, and Jing Yuan is grateful that you aren’t.)

Jing Yuan finds himself on his back, with you wrapped around him. You let him pillow his cheek against your collarbone. His nose presses against your scent gland, and he pants against it with an open mouth and spit slicked lips. Your hand lays over his chest, cupping his breast while gently thumbing over his nipple. He’s so swollen there, aching.

He cries out as you pinch, as if it could relieve any of the pressure roiling around under his skin.

You curl closer into him with your lips against his temple. “Does that feel good?”

He can only keen and hope you understand that it’s a plea for more. 

You must because a moment later you’re squeezing with your entire hand. It’s— too big of a handful for you. Your fingers are soft and your touch gentle. The visual of the plump flesh of his chest bulging out from between your fingers rewires Jing Yuan’s brain for a craving he never knew possible. A rush of slick gushes from his cunt and— it’s so much. He lurches into your neck, licking blindly at your scent gland. Vaguely, he notices you stiffen and your scent grows a little sharper. 

It’s worry. Jing Yuan can’t have that.

With every ounce of his strength, Jing Yuan rolls you below him, and sits on your hips. You let him, so pliant and agreeable, and lay below him. Jing Yuan’s breath catches and drool slips to the corners of his mouth.

You are beautiful. You look debauched, and you’re not the one in heat. You’re flushed and damp with sweat, just as he is. The robe he’d draped you in is mostly open, revealing supple skin and your last bastion of modesty in the form of a cute pair of panties that Jing Yuan will fantasize about later. 

You look up at him in awe, lust-hazed just like him. There’s little composure to be had as your fists ball up in the sheets around his thighs. Your gaze goes glassy as you look from his face down to where he’s seated atop you and back again.

“No teeth,” he assures you. It is the last coherent thought he has, if only to provide your some comfort.

You look up at him sweetly and nod, grabbing the plump flesh above his hips. “No teeth.”

(A claim wouldn’t take, anyway. Not really. Omega-to-omega pairings lack the necessary pheromones to stake a claim on each other. The most it would do would indicate that whoever has been bitten is a submissive-leaning packmate. Which— Jing Yuan actually would not mind biting you. He would like his teeth in your neck if you would ever allow him.)

He groans at the thought, lowering his head as a silver mane of hair spills around his face.

Jing Yuan is drenched and hard, leaking from the tip of his cock and seam of his cunt. It’s— filthy. You’re soaked too, with a mix of him and undoubtedly yourself too, though Jing Yuan can’t scent it over the smell of his own heat. It’s regrettable as he is sure the mix of you must be divine. Heavenly. 

He wants it in his mouth.

Jing Yuan slinks down your body, licking and sucking at patches of your skin. You try to bat him off, haul him up and away from your own leaking sex, but he resists. He needs a taste or he’ll die, probably. His heat can be quelled in a number of ways, he presumes.

With his face buried in your cunt, surrounded by your scent, the ache for a knot is dulled. When you cry out on his tongue, it is almost deafened.

Jing Yuan drinks you up— he should pay more mind to your clit, probably, if he wants to get you off properly. However, he is so immensely distracted by your entrance and the essence of you that’s leaking out. There’s a rapidly widening damp spot beneath your ass. A steady flow that Jing Yuan needs in him. 

He seals his mouth over your cunt, and prods his tongue inside of you. He presses so close, suffocating with his nose tight to your clit, to lap at your insides. 

You— you wail above him. Your hands bury in his increasingly tangled mess of hair for any sort of leverage. Jing Yuan doesn’t let up; he doesn’t think he can. Your tone crashes into one that’s softer, more airy, begging for more. For less. Jing Yuan can’t entirely tell. He isn’t sure he cares, truthfully. All he knows is that your thighs tighten around his head with each suck and slurp.

The sound of it is heavenly.

Your thighs press around his face. Flush to his cheeks are the scent glands in the apex of your inner thighs. Not everyone has them, as they’re something of a recessive trait among all secondary genders. The scent that comes off them is your own, however muskier and deeper. It sticks to the inside of his nose and pours down his throat like a nectar. You mewl when he breaks away to lap at one, coaxing out more of the scent. He gluts himself on it.

He needs, he needs, he needs.

“Jing Yuan,” you pant above him, propping yourself up with one arm while the other blindly reaches among his nest. “Do you need it? Knot?”

He— 

(He needs to be filled. He isn’t picky if that feeling is quenched with his cunt, ass, throat, or nose. The scent of you is almost enough, even if he clenches down on nothing and feels hollow in his belly. The sensations are so dull with you nearby. He feels heat incensed, but in a way that craves closeness with you and not the manic pursuit of a knot.)

It’s refreshing. Jing Yuan regrets not propositioning you for this treatment sooner.

“Are you offering?” Jing Yuan purrs. He places his thumbs over the scent glands of your inner thighs and presses down on the swell of them, just under your skin.

Your back bends off the bed and you throw your hand over your mouth. Teary eyes meet him and you nod. From the folds of the nest, you pull forth a knotting toy with a shaking grip. 

It’s beautiful for a toy. It’s a model that Jing Yuan had seen in a few high-end adverts on the few social medias he moonlighted on. It’s a flesh-like plastic cock, with an inflatable knot at the base. A little, wired remote drags along the blankets of his nest as you hold the phallus out to him. The plastic of the toy is a light gold, cut with veins of blue. It looks otherworldly and unreal. Jing Yuan has never cared for much realism with his toys, though this one is human enough. 

He makes a mental note to get Qingzu a bouquet for purchasing it for him on such short notice. 

The head of it feels cool against his cunt. It’s a welcome sensation as it feels like his body is burning up from the insight. He lays over you, wrestling you a bit to be flat below him, with his thighs caging yours. He growls when you try to grab the toy from his hands to assist.

It makes you pause.

Your soft palms cup his cheeks, “Do you not want me to help?”

“The angle—” The angle won’t be right, Jing Yuan wants to say. His words feel lost in his throat as he slowly begins to push inside himself. He gasps and tries to duck into your neck, to like and suck at the gland there and feast on your scent.

“I can try—?”

“ No.” 

Jing Yuan wants you just like this. In his nest, smelling like him and arousal and safety. The toy that’s sliding into his cunt is mostly irrelevant, as is the twitch of his cock as he slowly and methodically fucks the toy into himself. Little by little, he bullies it into his underused hole. The stretch is— is not bad. It would be far more uncomfortable if he weren’t in heat and pouring slick. 

You ask more quietly, just as he bottoms out. You still haven’t let go of his face. “Are you sure?” 

He is, but he can’t find the words to say so. Instead, he nods and tucks himself closer to you. You pet down the back of his neck and push on his scent glands. They ache with his heat. The pressure and direct contact makes him grunt as he adjusts to the toy in his cunt.

You hush him and nuzzle in his cheeks, “You’re doing so well. So good, Jing Yuan.”

He keens and pulls back the toy cock, only to shove it back into himself a moment later. Praise from you is a drug. He’s sure. You’re unbearably earnest and sweet and you are too kind to him. You whisper more of them into his ear as he fucks himself, deep and slow. He feels the sentiment of your words more than he hears it. Deeply affectionate and caring. If he were more lucid, he would be disarmed by you, speechless even. Perhaps he is already speechless, but he blames that on the heat haze and how the head of the toy is pressing deliciously into his sweet spot.

He narrows his focus on the spot and fucks him on the toy in earnest.

Jing Yuan will have an arm ache after this. Many aches, actually. It will be worth it. It is easiest to bear with you underneath him, tilting your hips up to grind against his dripping cock. It’s not the friction his body craves, but it’s welcome. It sends sparks down his spine and he whines into your neck. 

You nip at his neck, high on the side of it, and Jing Yuan lets loose a cracking moan. It’s almost embarrassingly loud. Were Jing Yuan able to feel shame in that moment, he’d be red-faced.

Instead, he tips his head to the side, allows you room to mouth and suck marks as you desire. You catch on quickly, and hum, licking broad stripes and soaking him in your scent. Your marks. It surrounds him.

He fucks himself on the toy faster.

(It’s nothing like the heats he had while he was mated with Yingxing and Dan Feng. Not at all. They were shorter, back then. Perhaps it was his youth or the relentless pace and haze Yingxing kept that burned Jing Yuan out faster. Or, maybe it was that Dan Feng always made sure he was wrung out, despite not craving him in the same way Yingxing had. It was carnal then. It still is now, but it does not feel as manic. You are gentle without qualifiers, sweet without expectation, and happy to let him rut into you and back onto the toy as much as he pleases. Your kisses are bruising, but not bloody like Dan Feng’s. There’s a different pace, a different scent, and a different intent.)

Jing Yuan once enjoyed the desperation that Yingxing put into everything he did (including him). He had fallen in love with Dan Feng for his poetics and distanced care. You have neither of these. It is unfair, ultimately, for Jing Yuan to draw comparison. 

Perhaps, he’ll feel guilty over it later. For now, his arm gives out and he falls into your chest with a keen. His back arches, hips raised, and the new angle is so, so good. You run your hands through his hair, and move your thigh, just right, so he can grind on it to his heart’s content.

He’s close; he can feel it in his belly.

What sends him over the edge is the feel of your lips against his hairline, the way your lips have curled into a soft, easy smile as you kiss him there. You stroke down his back, like how a good lover would.

You are a good lover. 

He shudders as orgasm grips him. The sound that rips from his throat is shattering, as overwhelming as the heat that boils over in his guts. And you are such a good lover, that the little remote must have already been in your hand, as in the moment he comes, the knotted base of the toy begins to swell. Jing Yuan can’t— can’t chase his orgasm. He can feel his eyes growing wet while his body feels out of his control (he hates that, he really does). You, however, are a good lover and reach and stretch, matching his angle with the toy and fuck him through it yourself. The knot catches once inside him, then a second time, and with the third, it locks him and the toy together.

And with what can only be called a sob, Jing Yuan fully collapses on top of you.

He can’t keep himself upright, he realizes. His thighs tremble terribly, and his arms are the same. His eyes are filled with tears he didn’t expect and doesn’t know what to do with. It feels vulnerable. Too vulnerable, in a way that Jing Yuan has avoided for centuries now. 

Before the feeling can consume him, you’re coaxing him onto his side and wrapping yourself around him. A sheet gets pulled atop the both of you and you’re nosing into him wherever you can.

“It’s okay,” You tell him. “You’re okay, I promise.”

A muffled sound that comes from your throat, followed by the low roll of a purr. 

Oh. 

All for him?

He shoves himself closer, skin to skin in all the spots he can reach. His tongue laves at your scent glands as his cunt flutters around the toy. He claws at your back before locking his arms around your waist. 

You’re purring for him.

He can help but do the same, even chirping without meaning to as he nips at your jaw. Jing Yuan trails his lips to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. You curl and laugh at his touch, and Jing Yuan steals the lovely sounds from you with a kiss. It’s something deep and consuming, and Jing Yuan needs more of the taste of you. You squirm into it, gasping and opening your mouth for him to explore as he needs. Your openness continues to undo him. 

It’s all the reassurance he needs. Any poisonous feelings fall away, and Jing Yuan, for the first time in far too long, finds himself content and knotted. 

...

Jing Yuan has never had a heat quite like this one.

It is certainly more mild, and certainly a bit shorter than what he was expecting. The worst of it lasts five days, followed by three days that he can’t quite call post-heat. Though the desire in him is less feverish, he still craves your presence so much it hurts, and the idea of you being out of his nests sends him into a toothy panic those days. The ‘no teeth’ rule is modified to allow some biting, as long as it doesn’t involve any scent glands.

(However, Jing Yuan still would not mind putting a claiming bite on you. He makes a note to bring this up when he’s feeling some clarity of mind and can... attempt to court you properly.)

The most intense days of his heat are spent with a knotting toy in his cunt, rutting against your soft thighs, or with your hands wrapped around his cock. He eats you out whenever he can muster up the energy to shimmy between your legs and luxuriate there. Any down time is spent dozing in the warm sun rays that his bedroom is perfectly placed to receive. 

The latter days of his heat, Jing Yuan is more lucid. 

It’s in those days he truly enjoys his heat. Though the burn of arousal still lays within him, it is easily tempered with your presence in his nest and your many shared bite marks. Your time awake is spent lazily kissing, speaking in low voices, and sharing laughter and cups of cool water, one after the other. 

Jing Yuan, partially, did not think he would ever get to experience this type of connection again. with you or any other partner. The intimacy of the act is so deeply vulnerable, and after the spiritual loss of both Yingxing and Dan Feng, he never endeavored, or wanted to endeavor to, open himself up in that way again.

He, perhaps, convinced himself he did not need to.

(Nevermind the many nights, both heat-addled and otherwise, Jing Yuan spent craving nesting companions. Nevermind how many nights Jing Yuan lay alone, accepting his losses and mourning mates he’d never hold again. Jing Yuan could never choose to be selfish.)

It helped when Yanqing was little. He was just a small pup with golden eyes like Jing Yuan’s and a fiery spirit, even when he was so small. Jing Yuan had never considered himself maternal, however having a pup to take care of brought out latent instincts he’d spent the better part of his life pretending didn’t exist. As Yanqing aged, however, he was less receptive to such affections and connections. After presenting (far too young, poor thing, traumatized body), Yanqing wouldn’t share a nest with Jing Yuan unless he fell ill. Even then, Jing Yuan would have to coax him into it.

It quenched something in him. It allowed Jing Yuan to let himself care in the direct way he craved. With his position as General, how often does get to show care with his hands, and not with his words or stratagems? Not with sacrifice or poetry, but with his body and scent. 

Jing Yuan realizes now that there truly have been so many urges and behaviors Jing Yuan simply did not indulge.

And as his heat breaks, Jing Yuan thinks he’d like to start indulging them more.

...

On the last day of his heat, you stir around nightfall. You are exhausted, Jing Yuan knows this. Though his heat has provided him with a surprising amount of stamina, you are in standard condition, and looked wrung out halfway through day two of his heat. Jing Yuan’s grateful you’re as fond of midday naps as he is. 

You are cradled against his chest, your cheek pillows on his breast. He’d thrown a robe on while washing up, and hadn’t elected to remove it. The silky texture of it feels lovely against his flushed, sensitive skin. You seem to enjoy it too as you grip at the fabric of it in your sleep, nuzzling into his chest.

Your brow scrunches and a little sound pops from your throat as you try to burrow closer. It’s a hopelessly sweet gesture, desperate and honest. Jing Yuan can’t help but chuckle and smooth a hand over your mussed-up hair.

When your eyes crack open, your voice is raw, “‘S morning?”

“No, nighttime.” Jing Yuan nods to the darkened window.

You raise yourself up just enough to look, hum, and then fall back on top of him, “Feels like it should be morning.”

“We haven’t been keeping a very consistent sleeping schedule,” Jing Yuan rarely does, but he imagines that you and your position with the Sky Faring Commission have quite a regular routine. “You can keep resting.”

“I don’t wanna’,” Though, you shove your nuzzle into his chest, smearing him with your scent. “I wanna stay up and talk to you.”

“Me?” Jing Yuan smiles, smitten. He pinches your cheek. “About anything in particular?”

“... Not yet.” Your eyes slip closed. “Maybe later. I want to say things to you, but I feel... mushy. Inside my head.”

“Pheromone drunk?”

“‘Something like that,” Your words slur. “Not that I’m complaining. You smell so good, Jing Yuan.”

When you say his name, he shudders. The hand that’s been playing with your hand slips to your nape and squeezes. You keen at the contact and tangle your legs with his. It’s an impossible amount of closeness you are seeking, but Jing Yuan must attempt to give it to you. It’s abashed and honest, and in the stillness of night, how can he not indulge?

“Do I?”

“ Mhm.”

“Like what?” 

You’re falling asleep, clearly. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open even as you inhale deeply. Your lips part and you take his scent into your mouth. 

“Earth after rain,” You hum. “Sunbeam and linen. Warm milk.”

He squeezes you.

(A long time ago, Yingxing had complained about his scent. ‘Complained’. His face had been flushed crimson, telling him how distracting his sweet, rich scent had been. Dan Feng thought it was the funniest thing, considering Yingxing so clearly enjoyed Jing Yuan’s scent, as did he. They’d described it similarly— “petrichor” Dan Feng had told Jing Yuan while sweeping his mane back from his neck— “the smell of sunshine” Yingxing had told Jing Yuan after berating him.)

“How complementary.” Jing Yuan purrs and pulls you closer by the waist. Your face is smushed against his chest, but you don’t complain. You keep your lips parted to enjoy his scent. “And you like it?”

“So much,” You assure him, droopy-eyed. 

So good for him, so so good.

Jing Yuan presses the tip of his finger to your lips, a bit chapped from the dehydration and exertion. You chirp with it, a bit more awake.

He hushes you, and pushes his finger further into his mouth, “Sleep now, dear. You need to rest.”

“‘So do ya’,” You try to say, though it comes out garbled as Jing Yuan lays his finger on the flat of your tongue. Your eyes widen and go a bit crossed to look at his wrist, then up to his eyes. 

Jing Yuan isn’t entirely sure what compels him, but something does. Gently, he leans down and presses his lips to your forehead. He idles there, and pets down your side.

“I’ll sleep soon, I’m sure you know.” Jing Yuan says softly. “Will you indulge me?”

(He asks to be selfish.)

Without hesitating, you nod.

(And you let him.)

Jing Yuan doesn’t explain himself. He doesn’t need to. Maybe it’s the specific sweetness his scent must take on, or the night air in contrast to the warmth and comfort of his nest, but you understand what he wants and give it to him without so much as a word.

Your lips open a little wider and Jing Yuan slips another finger inside. You stroke your tongue on his fingers as you close your mouth, eyes going dazed and heavy-lidded. You take a deep breath, inhaling his scent into the deepest parts of your lungs. You suck on his fingers gently. 

Jing Yuan watches with still, even breaths.

Later, he will analyze why this scratches so many itches in his brain. Why his post-heat mind feels more calm and sated than he thought possible. Why he wants more of this, always, even if he doesn’t have a name for it yet.

For now, he is so, so content to have you this way. You are lulled back to sleep so easily, sucking on his fingers with your cheek still smushed against his breast. Even as you sleep, Jing Yuan doesn’t remove his fingers. He explores the inside of your mouth with gentle, easy pressure, so as to not wake you. It’s exploratory, more than anything. 

He plays with you in such a way until he’s too drowsy to continue. Satisfied and warm, he drags you under the covers and holds you close, scenting you one last time before letting himself fall into a contented, new kind of sleep.

...

You depart suddenly, while Jing Yuan is in the kitchen deftly chopping fruits and assembling little parfaits. 

You had been in his bathroom, freshening up with whatever products you’d like from his stash. Jing Yuan had left you your own robe for when you exited, quietly beaming that he’d have yet another article with your scent on it.

However, when you do leave the bathroom, you are fully dressed in the day clothes you arrived in a week ago. You stand at the doorway of his kitchen, pausing, wide-eyed.

“I n-need to go,” Your voice wavers, like you’re going to be ill.

Something squeezes in between Jing Yuan’s ribs. There are thin, transparent patches on your neck on either side. Scent blockers. Your eyes look watery. Jing Yuan immediately sets down the knife he had been working with.

“Is everything alright?” asks Jing Yuan. He knows something is wrong, even if he can’t smell you, you’re clearly distressed and disheveled.

“It’s— it’s nothing. It’ll be okay.” You tell him. Your voice trembles and you shake your head. 

“Are you sure? I can help.”

“It’s— it’s really nothing. I need to leave. I-I’m really sorry.”

You look from him to the foyer that leads to his front door and back again. There’s a desperate look in your eye that Jing Yuan has never seen with such an intensity before. It makes his heart ache and his hands feel clammy. He sighs.

(And a quiet, ever-present voice in his mind says, “they all leave, eventually.”)

“Alright.” Jing Yuan gives you a smile, the best he can muster. He knows it must be sadder than intended, as your expression falls and you look like you’ve been punched. 

“I’m so s-sorry.”

“It’s alright,” It isn’t. Not fully. “Handle whatever it is that you must. I’m only a call away. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”

“Okay.” You take a shaking breath and shudder out the exhale. You’re trying not to cry and it takes everything in Jing Yuan’s being not to rush to you and attempt to mend whatever is causing you distress but—

(He can’t. He can’t do that. You have asked him to leave you be and Jing Yuan has spent his entire life honing his ability not to chase, even when he so, so badly wishes to.)

You give him one final, fleeting look, “Thank you. I— I’ll see you at our next lunch, okay? I’m sorry.”

It looks like there’s more you want to say, but you’re already out the door before you can. Jing Yuan hears it open and shut with a soft thud that vibrates throughout his home. It leaves Jing Yuan standing alone in his kitchen, frozen, while the robe he wears slips down his shoulders. He bears your marks, and reeks of your scent. His nest grows colder each minute. And though his heat has ended, the yearning for you has not.

If anything, the feeling is far stronger than it was before.

He latches onto the fact you will have your lunches. That— he will find some clarity then. That he can inspect you for damage during the next sunshine-filled meal you share, and prod to see if the last week and half did not carry the same type of... meaning for you, as it did Jing Yuan. He will need to make sure you’re well. He’ll fret until then, he knows this.

(A more dormant, possessive part of him wishes he snatched you back from his foyer and threw you back into his nest. If something was wrong, he could. If something needed fixing, he could help. If it were anything official for your work, Jing Yuan would pull any and all strings to get you out of the obligation. If you were hurt, Jing Yuan would do anything to see you better.)

Instead, Jing Yuan idles in his kitchen, feeling struck and helpless. Something in him aches, deep and low, and Jing Yuan lays a hand over his chest and squeezes it into a fist. He had thought he had become used to this type of loneliness, but it aches all the same.

[star-suh]

Blackmail

Kim Mingyu x Male Reader

cw: top mingyu, rough sex, blackmailing, mingyu is a father as if he has a kid and a wife and an asshole too, toxic masculinity(?) is just a comment mingyu says),cheating, y/n is a closeted gay, car sex, feminization, unprotected sex, tummy bulge.

an: so i finally could finish this but my perfectionism is telling that could've been better lol.

—

y/n is a teacher at the local high school and one of his students is a pain in the ass, not paying attention, throwing paper balls, bothering his classmates. one day fed up with this, y/n scolds him "hey you brat, what are you doing?. you think just because your parents have money you can do whatever you want?", "hell yeah" the bastard replied cockily. y/n just laughed and rolled his eyes "you're a typical daddy and mommy's boy hiding insecurities behind all that money… so i ask you to leave the classroom and go to the principal. oh and you can't come back to class until your parents come do you hear me?" yelling that last one part. the boy told that to his parents overexaggerating things so they can 'punish' the teacher. mingyu, the dad, decided to investigate about him and use that information as a way to blackmail him, he found out that y/n frequents a gay bar and after that he always leaves with a man to a motel.

"hello mr. kim" welcomed the teacher "i told you to come here to talk about your son's behavior. he's very disrespectful towards me and his classmates and that's not ok" mingyu was just listening to everything with a smirk on his face and his arms crossed "that's all?" he laughs "here mr. y/n" mingyu handles an envelope to y/n he opens it and it's full of pics of him with men and there's even a flash drive "your blowing skills are good mr. y/n how much do you think this would cost?" he asks tapping the object.

"please don't spread these pics anywhere.. i beg" said the teacher scared "i won't say something to your son ever again.. or… or if you want i can leave the school ye-yeah that's it i'm quitting the job here just… just destroy this pics please" y/n grabbed the man by the hands "why you're so worried about this? you could be a good star in the porn world". "no one knows about it" y/n lowered his head "please… no one needs to know this…" his hands were shaking trying to convince mingyu. "so you'll do everything i want right?" mingyu tapped his chin with his fingers "listen i will talk to my son and tell him to behave a little more but in exchange you have to met me tomorrow night, give me your number i'll send you the address later" mingyu winks and leaves…

y/n was now sitting besides mingyu in his car, "so what do you want me to do?" asked a sad y/n, mingyu passed his phone to y/n in where his video was playing "watching that video got me so fucking hard" he palmed the growing bulge on his pants he then unzipped it and pull his cock out "i want to feel that pretty mouth of yours around my cock too. suck it" he whispered guiding y/n towards his cock, "fuck so wet and warm" grunted mingyu, y/n started to feel dizzy smelling mingyu's musky cock. "such a perfect cock" muttered y/n worshiping every vein, the thick shaft, the size of it, "look at you, I thought you would put on a fight but you already gave in to me. pathetic bitch" laughed the rich man who started to mouthfuck y/n at a harsh pace.

some minutes have passed and mingyu's cock was dripping with y/n's thick saliva, mingyu stopped y/n from sucking his balls "c'mon let's go to the back seats" there mingyu discarded his pants and leaned on his back "let me taste that used pussy" y/n obeyed an accommodate himself in a 69 position so he can keep sucking mingyu while he eat his ass out. mingyu started with doing circles with his fingers on y/n's rim, then spat on it and introduced the first finger "mmh is indeed warm" then he introduces a second finger.. the third and lasty a fourth one all of them knuckles deep going in and out "i'm started to get why everyone on that bar wants this pussy is so fucking tight. more than my wife's" mentioned mingyu, "hngh" moaned y/n with his mouth full of cock. grabbing him by the waist mingyu lifted y/n and started to eat his ass enjoying how it clenchez every time he introduces his tongue "such a tasty manpussy"...

mingyu groped y/n's chest and started playing with his nipples, tweaking and pinching them to get those pretty moans out of y/n's mouth then used his mouth to lick and bite them 'he's moaning a lot… i guess this is a sensitive part for him… kinda like it' thought mingyu.

now tapping his cock's head on y/n's clenching hole mingyu was getting ready to pound him "please wait… use a condom i've never done it without one" pleaded y/n, "fuck off you're not the one in charge here i'm gonna breed your manpussy you like it or not" mingyu grunted putting the cock's tip already inside "that also means that i'm gonna mark this pussy as mine" an in one thrust he put it all at once forming a bulge on y/n's lower tummy "woah look at that" he laughed "you're took it balls deep not like my wife she can barely take half of it" he whispered that last part licking a stripe from y/n's nipple to his ear. both stayed like that for a moment until mingyu started to move every thrust being harsher than the last one "please be more gentle" squirmed y/n pressing his hand against mingyu's stomach trying to stop him but he quit it "don't be boring dude, you're a man just endure it and let me enjoy your pussy" he then pulls out and spat on his shaft and sucked y/n's hole introducing his cock right after repeating the action during some minutes.

"tell me how it feels" demanded mingyu putting his hand around y/n's neck, applying some pressure and moving his hips quite gently to make y/n feel good "it's sooo big… it feels so good how it stretches me… i like.. i like how it is throbbing inside me… can't wait to feel your cum" that's when mingyu realized y/n was already his. "so you want my cum inside you that bad huh?. what a whore. then be my side pussy and i'm gonna pump you up every day with my warm sperm" a dizzy y/n just kissed mingyu as a way to said yes, he was desperate, mingyu is making him feel things no one ever has. y/n knew what he was doing was wrong but the pleasure was immense… he just wanted more and more.

mingyu was now fucking y/n in a quite uncomfortable doggy style position pressing the bottom's head against the window with his hand, traces of saliva and sweat being smeared in the glass everytime mingyu thrusted harshly. with a loud grunt and a last hard thrust mingyu came inside y/n “don't you dare to waste any drop you whore. keep it all inside your pussy” the top rode his high with a couple of last thrusts.

he pulls out and start using his fingers to scoop the cum and put it back inside the gaping hole, savouring the delicious wet sounds “you have a taste pussy professor. glad it's all mine now… right?” mingyu licked his ear waiting for his response, “yeah” it's the only thing that comes out of y/n's mouth, his tired self just enjoying mingyu's breath ghosting over his neck. “good boy” mi gyu added kissing his forehead and then driving towards a hotel.

the next day y/n woke up in a hotel room, his lower back in so much pain with a note on his side that reads a number that y/n calls “hello?”, “good morning slut” mingyu's sexy voice answers “i have some news for you… i won't spread these pictures of you but in exchange i want to keep fucking your pussy, my wife's it's not as thight as yours and also i can breed you as much as i want. so… deal?” y/n hesitates but eventually responds “...deal” hanging up the call while gathering his things to go home. on the other side of the call mingyu just laughs and lick his lips while driving towards his job.

[dorabellingham]

Tea time

warning: none

characters: jude x mom!reader

summary: when your daughter wants to have a tea party, but he is too tall for the chairs

request: yes

may contain spelling and translation errors!

The afternoon was sunny in Madrid and the Bellingham family’s living room was filled with laughter and toys scattered about. Three-year-old Amala was beaming, already dressed in an orange sundress that matched the decor of her tea party perfectly. Her cheeks were slightly pink with excitement, and her eyes were bright with anticipation of what was to come.

—Daddy, you’re coming to my tea party, right?

Amala asked, with a determined expression, as she placed the toy tea cups on the children’s table. The little girl had everything planned, from the plastic snacks to the soft music playing in the background.

—Of course, my love! I’m on my way!

Jude replied, a wide smile on his face as he entered the room. He was tired after a long day of training, but his daughter’s joy was contagious. He looked at her, delighted, and was immediately overcome by a wave of fatherly love. Amala pulled on his arm, gesturing for him to come closer to the table.

—Sit here, daddy!

She said, pointing to one of the colorful little chairs, which seemed more suitable for a doll than for a 6’1” man like Jude.

Jude looked at the small chair, then at you, who was watching the scene with a knowing smile on your face.

—Honey, I don’t think I fit in this chair…

He said, with a playful tone.

—You have to fit, daddy! It’s my little tea party.

Amala insisted, her eyes fixed on her father, full of determination. For her, there was no other option. Her dad needed to be part of her doll’s tea party.

—Okay, I’ll try, honey.

Jude said, knowing that if there was one thing he would always do, it was to make hos little girl happy. He bent down to be at her height, but when he saw the chair, the smile turned into an expression of slight hesitation. The chair looked like it was made for a toy, and he didn't want to ruin his daughter's moment.

You, already sitting in one of the chairs and trying not to laugh at the situation, decided to help.

—Come on, Jude! It'll only be a few minutes! —You laughed while he kept his eyes wide open— And if you can't, you can always say it's because the chairs are too small for you.

Jude, catching on to the idea, made a worried face and let out an exaggerated "Oh no!" as he began to slowly lower himself towards the chair. The sound of the creaking wood echoed through the room as he tried to find a way to accommodate his long legs. Amala watched with anxious anticipation, holding the tea toys.

Finally, Jude managed to sit down, but it was clearly a difficult task. He had to bend his legs in a way that seemed uncomfortable, and soon the chair began to wobble under his weight. Amala let out a loud laugh, which made Jude roll his eyes comically.

—I'm not very good with small chairs. —Bellingham admitted, grimacing as he balanced himself. —But for you, my love, I'll do whatever it takes!

The little girl laughed, satisfied, and began to serve the “tea”. She filled the toy cups and began to distribute them.

—Here, daddy! And here, mommy!

She said, handing a little cup to each of them. Jude made sure to imitate his daughter's gesture, raising the cup to his mouth and making a dramatic expression of pleasure.

—Delicious! This tea is made with the best leaves from the magical forest! —Jude declared, as if he were a true connoisseur. —And what do we have to go with it?

Amala smiled even wider, starting to describe the plastic snacks they had on the table.

—There are fake cookies, fake cupcakes and… a fake cake too!

She was so proud of her little party that it was impossible not to be enchanted by the scene.

You couldn’t help but feel a warm feeling in your heart, seeing your daughter’s enthusiasm and Jude’s effort to get comfortable. It was a simple moment, but full of love and joy. You didn’t know how to describe how much your life had changed since your girl arrived. Every day was a new adventure, and every laugh from your daughter was a reminder of the love you shared as a family.

—Amala, my love, I loved the tea party. Mommy's so proud of you —You praised, making the little girl shine. —You’re the best hostess in the world!

—Thank you, mommy! —Amala replied, so happy she almost jumped out of her chair. —Daddy, will you help me have more parties like this?

—Of course! We can have a tea party every day, if you want. —Jude said, looking into his daughter’s eyes with the same seriousness he used during games. —Just let me know when the chairs get bigger!

The trio continued your tea party, with you making faces and grimacing as Amala served you with her toy treats. You laughed, joked and enjoyed the moment as if it were the most important thing in the world. For you, it really was.

After a few rounds of tea and smiles, the little girl, tired, decided it was time for a break.

—Daddy, mommy... I'm sleepy.

—Oh, really, honey?

Jude asked, already getting up with much more difficulty than he should have.

—Let's put you to bed then, cutie.

As Jude picked up his little female copy in his arms, the little girl snuggled into his shoulder and gave you a brief wave, which you returned with a sweet smile on your face.

—You know this is the most perfect moment of your life, right?

Jude, with a satisfied smile, nodded.

—Of course. That's all I could ask for. You know, even with those tiny chairs, I would do anything for her.

—You’re an amazing father, Jude. —You said, hugging him and leaving a small kiss on your daughter’s forehead. —I love you even more for being like this.

He smiled, his heart warmed by your words. He wouldn’t trade that moment for anything, even if it meant spending a few hours sitting in tiny chairs.

[love-jelly]

THE VALIDATION.

sypnosis: precious, sweet choso would never ever deny you in any way, always opting to let you do whatever you wanted for your own entertainment and satisfaction, even if it includes giving you his heart and body.

contents: tutor!choso, sub!choso, dom!reader, pet names (choso: cutie, baby, bubs, darling, pretty prince, good boy | reader: mommy), dirty talk, hair pulling (m!receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public sex (does this even count idk), choso is desperate for some puthy (YOUR puthy), overstimulation (m!receiving), praise kink

word count: 1.4k+

a/n: based on this idea by @hotlinemurder ! tysm to maki for blessing my tl with this idea and i hope i did it justice !! hope u enjoy !! minors dni. ageless / blank / minor blogs will be blocked if seen interacting!

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

choso tutors you every wednesday and friday afternoon from twelve pm to two pm every other week in the university library. a timeline you both come up with to nicely accommodate both of your schedules- him with his studies and you with your parties and whatnot. not to say you don’t focus on school, you do, life’s just easier when you can ignore all the pending assignments that are due at 11:59pm and all the teachers that seemingly have it out for you.

but choso is sweet, unnecessarily so even when you try to quietly yawn at his rambling that seems to bounce off the walls of the study room you two rented. even when you start doodling in your notebook, when you’re supposed to be writing down what he’s trying to teach you. life is just more fun when you let go, something you’re sure choso doesn’t know how to do when you don’t show him how to.

choso is a straight-a student and tutor, teaching you topics better than any of your professors on the surface. but when you have him in the palm of your hand, with actions that are only a little suggestive? you’ll surely have him fucking you better than any of them too.

a few taps from the tip of a black pen on your notebook shakes you from your thoughts, choso gazing at you with concern evident in his eyes and a cute frown.

“you do know midterms are two weeks away, right?” the concerned lilt in his tone is cute but not cute enough for you to really care, knowing you would rather be doing anything else than studying calculus four.

you look up and smile apologetically, “sorry, cutie, but partial differentiation of functions is not on my mind right now.”

he blushes softly at the pet name but holds his ground, “but you didn’t come to any lecture last week. these questions are gonna be on the exam, you have to know them.”

you stand up, going behind him to undo the two buns he keeps atop his head, “‘s alright, i have you, don’t i?” the locks of hair unravel like a pretty present as you massage the mop around, evening the spread of his pretty brown hair.

“that’s why i’m trying to teach you right now but you won’t even listen,” he softly whines in slight protest, distracted by the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair.

“i have a better idea- don’t you wanna have fun?” you twist yourself onto his lap, thighs fitting atop his as you straddle him. you twist your hand into a fist to garner a hold of his hair, pulling it back to lift his head to expose his pretty wide eyes.

“b-but-” he stammers, moving his head to the side to avoid your eye contact, not sure what excuse to use. you roughly pull his hair again to force him to face you again, a mewl falling from his lips.

you cut him off with a soft voice, “you want me to stop?” you press chaste kisses to his jaw and throat, leaving an especially hard one on his adam’s apple, a soft sigh slipping out from his mouth.

he groans, unable to find an answer in his now-muddled brain. “please-”

precious, sweet choso would never ever deny you in any way, always opting to let you do whatever you wanted for your own entertainment and satisfaction, even if it includes giving you his heart and body.

“please what, baby?” you smile lightly, knowing he would always give into pleasure, give into you. 

“please make me cum,” his usual honeyed, deep voice is exchanged for a separate breathy, higher tone that’s reserved for your ears and your ears alone.

“all you had to say, bubs,” you lightly grind your core to his hardening, twitching cock, that seemingly was begging for some sort of stimulation that could help relieve the hot bubble that was forming in his lower belly.

something between a whine and a groan erupts from choso’s lips as you go in for another kiss, you swallowing up his sounds by connecting your lips.

“we’re in the library, darling. remember to be quiet, ‘kay?” you remind him with a sweet smile as if you weren’t the reason for his loud volume.

he whimpers, “s-sorry, mommy, please-” he chokes out, “c-can i put it in?”

you reach down and pull his cock out of his pants and give it a few jerks. “do you deserve it?”

choso scrunches his face in pleasure, eyes shut and lips wet with both his and your saliva. he manages to open his eyes a bit and breathe out, “yes- yes i do- please?” his brown orbs plead with you for stimulation- for pleasure- for mercy.

“put it in then, show me how desperate you are for me,” his fingers are fumbling around, pushing your skirt up and realizing you’re wearing his favorite lacy violet panties underneath, he groans quietly to himself admiring the wet spot on it for a second. set back on his prior mission, he pushes his cock into your panties, creating a large wet spot as he humps the scratchy material to find pleasure.

“my pretty prince, right? look at you, you just wanna get off, huh? i’ll let you use my pussy- so you better use it well.”

“thank- you, mommy,” he mewls softly before aligning himself with your hole. he quickly shoves it in- catching you off guard, forcing a hiss and moan from your lips that he quickly shuts up with a kiss that you dominate early on.

his hands have you in a vice-like grip that’s sure to leave bruises, holding you a few inches above his own body as his hips uncontrollably rut up into you, balls slapping on your buttcheeks.

“f-fuck- what would your parents say about this, huh? their p-precious little boy so desperate to cum inside of a woman?” you bite his earlobe, moaning directly into it, only serving to make choso’s dick impossibly harder.

“do-don’t-”

“don’t what, bubs? don’t tell your parents? but with how much you c-cum inside me, won’t we have to tell them when we have a b-baby?” you chortle in his ear, his face tinted red from embarrassment but still rutting up into you, desperately searching for release that feels so close with the way you’re clenching around him, still wanting to cum inside you as if it was his lifes goal.

“c-can’t- please- please let me cum inside.” he nearly sobs, his orgasm feeling like it’s approaching.

“don’t stop, don’t stop. you’re doing so so good for me, bubs. keep going- just a bit more, you’re almost there, baby,” you whisper into his ear, keenly aware of the effect your words have on him.

“please, please, please- let me-” 

“you wanna cum? you wanna cum in me? give your parents a grandbaby? you want that huh- you want your parents to know what a dirty whore you are for wet pussy- my wet pussy? come, come inside me.” your filthy words spill out of your mouth and into his flushed ear like whispers of an eternal bliss in hell.

a chain of “yes”s leave his lips in needy murmurs as he nears his climax. his thrusts into you become shorter and sloppier as you hug him closer, quieting your own moans by putting forth effort in marking up his neck.

a long, languid moan is ripped out from choso’s chest with his hips still rutting into you, albeit slower now, steadily fucking his cum into you, although his cock is still semi-hard. “let me- let me make you cum, please?”

you breathily laugh, “keep fucking me, baby, i’m almost there.”

choso continues his actions through strained movements, overstimulating himself, still roughly but quietly moaning through his own pain and pleasure. pulling you closer and staring at your pretty face filled with pleasure, he seems to be mesmerized by every feature on your face that contorts to prove that you were finding as much bliss in this as he is.

“fuck, i’m close, baby. gonna make me cum? make me cum,” choso quickens his pace, grunting in exertion. with a hand slapped over your mouth to hold back your shriek, you cum, spasming around his cock. fucking you through your orgasm, choso whines. he was so focused on making you cum that he didn’t realize he was nearing his second orgasm and with one last thrust into you, he spills a second load into you.

“good boy, choso. you did so well,” your validation makes him feel tingles all around his stomach, butterflies awakening in his stomach.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

if you enjoyed this, please reblog and/or consider following me!

a/n: honestly i hate this n i felt like it was WAY too fast paced. BUT i promised a fic so here's one amidst my busy schedule :') life stop fucking me in the ass when :/ thank you for reading !!!

[gremlingottoosilly]

All i can picture is monster konig tossing his new born chile into the ocean and be like “ INTO THE WILD ELDRICHLING AND ITS SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST” lol🤣

And mrs konig is terrified bc why dud u just throw my 3 children into the wild like that—

But lets be real it was probably how he was raised. Tossed into the ocean and abandoned but his parent.

Exactly! This man doesn't have parental issues because he never knew his parents. Case closed. Our girl is terrified(( she just went through months of hell, with all of those eggs inside and long hours of pushing them all out only for Konig to haul her over his shoulder and drag her to toss the eggs into the ocean/let the other monsters take them as a means of raising soldiers( she would be so so disappointed and sad, and Konig just don't understand why she is behaving like this, it wasn't even human children! He can't understand our emotional turmoil, but he knows that humans are weak and soft, so he will try his best to accommodate you. He will try to find some plush toys to make you care of them, would softly hug you every time you're alone, and will fill you with new eggs as soon as possible!! His pet wifey is crying so much over losing her children, he will have to drag her to whatever government facility is raising those little soldiers so she will see that they're actually fine!! it's okay, they are raised to be war criminals just like their father! If Konig feels particularly charitable, he might let her play with hybrid children...only as a means of setting her up to be a good mommy! Horangi's children from his little incubator are literally hybrid tiger kittens, and Konig is always very jealous when we play with them instead of laying with our master(

[f1nalboys]

Did You Mean It? - Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x Fem!AFAB!Reader

WORD COUNT: 819

WARNINGS: nsfw, breeding, dubcon, daddy kink (bo refers to himself as daddy multiple times), mommy kink (bo refers to reader as mommy once but not sexually, just in reference to becoming a mom), talk about getting pregnant (bc duhhh), some teasing from bo. kinda proofread. lmk if i missed any tags!

Bo’s tongue runs along the warm flesh of your neck as he pumps his cock inside you. Your body was beginning to ache, your leg muscles cramping from the position he’s held you in for the last half an hour. “F-fuck,” Bo grunts, his breath warm. His voice cracks as he speaks, his hips sputtering. “You’re so fuckin’ tight, sweetheart, gonna cum nice and deep inside you.”

You wince at a particularly deep thrust, your hole clenching tightly around him, and he mistakes it for affection. He always did. You did too sometimes. You feel the hot breath of his laughter before you feel it rumble from his chest, your legs thrown over his shoulders. “Yeah, that’s right, darlin’. Daddys got you, he’s gonna fill you up nice and full, let you carry around his seed. You want that, right?” He asks and you cry out, the stretch of his cock almost too much. You’re not sure why it still hurts after all this time, but a part of you wonders if you like the pain a little too much to accommodate it. “You wanna carry my baby, darlin’?”

Your eyes widen as he asks, feeling his cock twitch inside you. He never spoke like this. In the entire time of you being here in Ambrose - was it weeks or months? Maybe a year? - Bo avoided the topic of family like the plague. You remember asking him once if he ever wanted children, and you remember how hard it was to sit afterwards. His thrusts speed up and you cry out in pain, his cock ramming into you with renewed fervor. Your cunt squeezes around him tightly and he grunts, the noise low in his throat. A growl. A sharp reminder of who he is. 

“Yeah? You fuckin’ want it too, don’t you? Right, Y/N?” He asks, grunting in between each word. He moves his head from the crook of your neck, a flash of appreciation in his eyes as he takes in the hickies and bite marks he had littered across your skin. His blue eyes are dark when he looks at you, sweat glistening off his forehead. “Say it. Say you want my baby and I’ll fuckin’ give it to ya’.” He says and you know he’s close.

You realize you are, too. It was so much easier to feel your own pleasure when you knew Bo was feeling it too. 

“I… I want your baby, Bo. Please.” You stammer out, panting. It felt like the pleasure had hit you out of nowhere, knocking the wind out of you, making you feel all of it at once. There was no growing pit in your stomach and no warning. “Holy shit,” you say, eyes widening as you look up at him. He smiles and you wonder briefly if you’ve ever told him how handsome he was. “I-I’m gonna cum.”

Bo moans, his hands grabbing ahold of your face to keep you looking at him. “Good. Fuck, fuck yeah, cum around my cock, sweetheart, milk me.” He shudders, his eyes squeezing shut. “A-Always heard that it sticks better when you cum too.” He says before he groans loudly, pushing the entire length of his cock inside you as he cums. You feel him spill inside you, gasping at the sheer amount, before your own orgasm rips through you. He whimpers, a noise you rarely got from him, as your pussy clenches around him, making sure you got every drop. “Fuck, you’re so god damn tight.”

Bo catches his breath as you ride out your high, grinning down at you in a way that makes you close your eyes, embarrassed at the intensity. You grunt when he moves your legs off of his shoulders, your muscles tense as they flop back against the bed, his cock still stuffed inside you. “Did you mean it?” You ask quietly, your voice unsure in the dark room. You don’t need to open your eyes to see Bo tilt his head to the side, humming. “About… about giving me your baby?”

His laugh makes you shiver. His finger runs down your cheek as he tsks, mocking. “Aww, are you worried I was lying, darlin’? Worried daddy wasn’t gonna make you a mommy, that I wasn’t gonna give you a baby?” He asks, his voice cruel and low. Your eyes open to look up at him and they widen slightly; you had expected a cruel and teasing grin, but the look on his face was far softer than you had come to know. His usual frown lines were smoothed over, a small smile on his face. He leans down, kissing gently along your cheek and jaw before he settles them right next to your ear. “I meant it, sweetheart. And I’m not done just yet.”

His hips rock forwards slightly and you whimper from overstimulation, your cunt pulsing.

“I’m gonna make sure it takes.”

[puppykittyangellamb]

I just wanna be the always pregnant boywife of a big strong man! I don’t care that other people won’t know I’m a boy per se by looking at me, im pregnant after all I understand. But our loved ones know me, he knows me. I just wanna be a mommy and a good wife! I wanna go to church hanging off his arm in our good clothes, it’s a liberal church there are other gay people there, it’s a little weird when I start to show and my good clothes get too tight and my chest starts to fill out but everyone’s understanding. Some gossip starts around when I have to shift to maternity wear to accommodate how big I’m getting and my breasts filling out. I just wanna be a good boywife and mommy! Our first little one comes along but he wants another baby as soon as possible and I’m happily knocked up again! Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, making good meals for my man, our kid, me and the the little one on the way. I’m carrying heavier this time, I’m more sedentary taking care of the baby and the home, he likes that I’m getting bigger, he loves my growing hips and thighs, my fuller breasts, my heavy round belly, I’m softer this time too. He loves his little pregnant husband, he loves that I’m a good mommy, he’s proud of how big I am and loves to show me off despite me being a bit sheepish still. He’s proud our baby is happy and healthy and he’s proud the baby in my belly is strong. He can’t wait to have as many kids as he wants with me!

[thequeenofuselessinformation]

So basically the entire character list of The ballad of songbirds and snakes is the exes from hell

1. Coriolanus Snow

-Mansplain Manipulate Manwhore

-Great hair and fashion sense

-Love bombs you

-Old money

-His (grand)mom hates you because her son can do no wrong so clearly you're the problem

-His favourite hobby is emotional and mental abuse

-Snitches on you when cheating at family board game night (he's deflecting that he's also cheating)

-Emotionally stagnant (narcissist with mommy and daddy issues)

2. Sejanus Plinth

-Loves you to bits, so does his mom (your waistline will never truly recover)

-Indecisive about where to grab dinner always

-New money and it shows in his insecurity

-Supportive asf

-Breaks up with you because he can't be with a non pacifist/vegan

-Daddy issues

-Condemns Shein hauls

-Identity crisis every other week, you'll have to talk him out of a buzz cut, jumping off the ledge or giving all his money to scammers (if you collect all the stamps you'll get a financial compensation from his dad on the wedding day)

3. Lucy Gray Baird

-Her Ex is a dick, will stalk and harass you

-Her family is a bunch of hippies, will make you eat with your hands, on the floor, while singing Kumbaya

-Sings you to sleep, braids your hair

-Almost poisoned you thrice cause she doesn't understand you shouldn't mix cleaning products together

-Old soul

-Thrifts, recycles

-Puts salt in your coffee after arguments

-Ghosts you after your make or break argument

4. Casca Highbottom

-Never asks about your day, his is always worse

-Drug addict in denial

-Weird beef with his old classmate's son (he never lets anything go)

-Dislikes people, which would be fine if you weren't included

-Always on some sardonic shit, probably a business major with a psych minor

-His pills take all the space in the shared bathroom, your makeup will be shoved in the far lowest drawer next to the TP

-His ancient ass coworkers hit on you at symposiums, he's too high off bathroom cocaine to stop them (or gets off, either way you're tired and want home)

5. Dr Gaul

-Devil Incarnate

-You somehow rizzed her up at a function and she's been showing up at your house ever since (you don't how but she has both the address and a key)

-Petting zoo type of owner

-She always smells like chemicals and latex

-Asks you unhinged "Would you rather" questions and refuses to drop it (makes your Would you love me if i were a worm ex cute by a long shot)

-Will perform experiments on you without your knowledge or consent

-Insists her pet snake shares your bed

-Freak in the streets and the sheets (the restraining order won't even go through cause she's in cahoots with half the Government)

-Definitely wanted for war crimes somewhere, the G in Geneva convention stands for Gaul

6. Lucky Flickerman

-A clown.

-His hair and skincare products take over the entire bathroom/vanity

-He can't dress to save his life, but he sure thinks he can

-Golden retriever boyfriend energy

-Steals your concealer, refuses to admit it

-Would you like to see a magic trick? What do you mean this is a serious fight, there's a quarter up your nose

-Impulsive buyer, has 13 snow globes of panem because they were on sale and looked shiny

-Even his pet thinks he's a dumbass

-Cries during movies

7. Tigris

-Yes she do the cooking, yes she do the cleaning

-Insecure about her appearance (critical, will cost you)

-Her family is a bunch of snobs

-Anything she touches turns into gold

-Her cousin can do no wrong, you have to accommodate everything for him or she'll die (and he never even visits, "just in case")

-Her grandmother is a package deal, I hope you like boomer propaganda and info commercials early on Sunday morning

-Empathetic asf

-Puts everyone's needs above hers (and unfortunately yours)

[darksigns-exe]

find me here where i belong - stepdad!jolly x f!reader

warnings: none

word count: 585

note: so @ladyveronikawrites requested a little zoo date with jolly and my brain went straight to stepdad!jolly hope you enjoy <3

masterlist | taglist sign-up

You’d been open and honest with Jolly from the beginning. On your second date, you’d told him that you had a kid from a different relationship, hoping that it wouldn’t scare him away. 

But Jolly had stayed. 

His first meeting with your daughter had been incredibly sweet. He’d asked you about her interests beforehand and had brought a very adorable Bigfoot plush with him as an icebreaker. She’d been so very shy at first, but Jolly had won her over surprisingly quickly. 

A year later, he’s a fixed part of your life. Since you’ve moved into a place that can accommodate all three of you, things have only gotten better. Whenever Jolly is at home, you set aside times on the weekends just for the three of you. You’d set up a jar of activities at some point to eliminate the decision-making process and to give your daughter the feeling that she had made the decision. 

This weekend, your outing would take you to the local zoo. Which worked great because your daughter had just entered a phase of being obsessed with giraffes. As always, you bring your camera, intent on capturing at least a few moments of the day for your photo album. 

Watching your usually so shy daughter, pull Jolly from one enclosure to the next on her search for the giraffes warms your heart. It had taken Jolly a bit of time to grow into this new role, but by now he seemed to feel rather comfortable with it. He is so patient with her, lifting her so that she could peek over some of the higher walled enclosures. When you get to the petting zoo area, he acts as a safeguard so that she feels brave enough to actually pet the animals, making sure that he always he’s always within reach just in case. 

When she finally spots the giraffe enclosure, she sets off. Her wobbly run, accentuated by the shifting of her little giraffe themed backpack, is absolutely endearing. 

“Look!” She exclaims, excitedly pointing out of the smaller giraffe.  

You watch her and Jolly from a few feet away. The barricade of this enclosure is a little too high for her to be able to see over it very well. Jolly leans down, you can’t hear what he’s saying, but at the end of their exchange your daughter ends up seated on his shoulders. You snap a few pictures of them, before making your way over to them. 

Your daughter's excited chatter fills your ears as soon as you’re close enough. Her giggles at whatever Jolly is telling her warm your heart. Their relationship is so wonderful and watching them grow closer has been one of your favourite things. 

You step up next to Jolly, and he automatically reaches for your hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

“Look mommy, it’s a family. Like us.” your daughter exclaims once she has noticed you next to Jolly. 

When you pass by your daughter’s bedroom door later that evening, you catch a glimpse of Jolly tucking her into bed for the night. You stop, just out of sight, watching their exchange for a moment. He presses a kiss to her forehead, before he finally gets up. 

As he steps out into the hallway with you, you realise that he’s trying his hardest to fight back tears. You wrap your arms around him as soon as you notice. Jolly returns the embrace, pulling you to him so tightly. 

“She asked if I’m her dad.”

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