#i will b indulging a lot more to cope

[keijoikawa]

curlin up beside them n’ lettin wrap their arms around mi n’ pull mi into their chest… becuz no matter how scared i am of mi mind they r safe n’ warm n’ comfortin n’ i nvr have 2 fear them.. no matter how many nightmares i have in da night, wakin mi up in tears.. ohh i need it rite now..

[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.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

When Their GF Is Followed Home

Pairing : ot8 (separately) x f!reader TW : reader getting followed ; reader panicking ; honestly it's fluffy ; major anxiety though ; might be anxiety inducing or triggering ; Word Count : Bangchan (745) ; Minho (847) ; Changbin (747) ; Hyunjin (1370) ; Jisung (1396) ; Felix (1114) ; Seungmin (1564) ; Jeongin (1645) -TOTAL : 9.4k AN : this is entirely self indulgent and I will write my requests, this is kind of a coping mechanism for me. Thank you for being patient with me and for everyone who commented on my post about what had happened and I really do appreciate and love all of you. I won't tag my perm. tag list in this one because it isn't really a request or anything, it's just for me, but I'm gonna post it here just in case anyone else needs it or wants to read it.

You should have been home 5 minutes ago, he knew exactly the amount of time it took for you to get from your job to the house, and even if traffic was bad, it would only tack on an extra 3 or 4 minutes. It’s been 20 minutes since you told him you got out of work, and now he was starting to worry. Did you have to stay late? It wasn’t unlikely, but you’d usually tell him these things so he wouldn’t wait up for you at night. 

His phone started vibrating, and when he saw your name as the caller ID, he let out a little sigh of relief… Until he answered and he heard the sound of the car running, which wasn’t what he was used to considering you were a strict advocate of not using your phone while driving at all. Then he heard your heavy breaths and your sniffling. You were crying. “Channie…” You whispered, the sound of his name shaky when it left your lips. “I’m being followed… I don’t know what to do…” 

The panic that he initially felt came back tenfold, he felt like he couldn’t breathe, and the worst part was that there was nothing he could do. It’s not like he’d tell you to stop the car so he could get to you, he didn’t know what the person following you was capable of or even what they planned on doing. “Call the cops��� Okay? Call the cops and go back to your work. Stay in your car… Lock the doors and keep the windows up.” 

You gasped before he heard the loud sob, he was terrified just hearing about it, he couldn’t even begin to imagine how you felt right now. “O-Okay… Bye… I… I love you…” You stammered, and the way you said it only had him freaking out even more. It sounded like you were saying goodbye to him, not like you normally would, but like a final goodbye. 

He knew where you were going, and he couldn’t, he just couldn’t sit at home and wait. He needed to know right then that you were okay, so he grabbed his keys, not even bothering to change into his shoes, running straight out the door and climbing in his car, racing towards your work. His own hands were shaking as his fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, his entire body was trembling as his head filled with the worst thoughts of what could have happened to you. 

The ride to your work was actually quite short, just a couple blocks, but right now it felt like it took forever to get there, but once he was finally in the parking lot, he could see that you were parked right out front. He pulled his car around to park behind you, quickly climbing out to run over to yours. 

It was heartbreaking to see the way you jumped when he got up to the window, the way your body was still shaking and your one hand still wrapped around the wheel in a vice grip as if you were ready to speed off if that person did come back. Once you realized it was him though, you rolled your window down, and then he really saw you. 

Your eyes were bloodshot and you were practically hyperventilating. “I-It’s my b-boyfriend…” You said to whoever it was on the phone, and when he glanced at it, he could see that you were still on the phone with the police. “I’ll hang up now… Thank you…” You whispered before ending the call and then looking up at him with the glassiest eyes, the saddest eyes, and all he wanted to do was hold you, to tell you that everything would be okay. “An officer is… on the way… right now…” 

“I’ll stay here with you, I’m not leaving you.” He assured you, grabbing your hand through the window and leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t help… I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I promise I won’t let anything like that happen ever again.” And now he was crying, you both were crying as you sat in the parking lot, but that promise that he made was one that he’d stick to and keep forever. You were the most precious thing in his life and he’d make sure that you never have to go through something like that ever again.

It was a late night in the practice room, another comeback and he wanted this one to be just as powerful as the last so he was practicing his dances as much as he could. He was taking a small break, resting against the mirrored walls of the room when his phone started vibrating on the floor beside him, the sight of your name and picture on his screen had all of his exhaustion washing away and a smile spreading across his face. 

“You know I love you… Right…?” Was the first thing you said as soon as he answered the phone, and the question alone had his heart sinking, but the way you said it, the way you sounded, he knew that something was wrong. “I’m headed back up to my work right now… I just wanted you to know that I love you so much… Give the cats kisses for me. I gotta go though… I’ll text you when I can…” 

The call ended before he was even able to say anything, but it was all so cryptic, it scared the hell out of him. Whatever was happening, he could tell that you were beyond scared, and for some reason you were saying your final goodbyes, and that had him pushing himself up off the floor and rushing out of the practice room and down the hall to the elevators. 

He was pissed at himself for staying at work so late, the building was on the complete opposite side of town, there was no way in hell he was going to make it to you. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, and all of the texts that he was sending didn’t seem to be going through because you weren’t answering any of them. He felt physically sick, like the entire room was spinning and his knees felt weak and he couldn’t breathe and he really just wanted to hear from you, to know that you were okay. 

“You shouldn’t be on your phone while you’re driving, you could cause an accident, Min.” He remembered the way you’d scold him from the passenger seat if he even reached for his phone while his car was in motion. That little memory only scared him more because he heard the sound of your engine running in the background of the call, you were on your phone while you were driving… Or maybe… Maybe you weren’t driving… Maybe it was someone else… His stomach sank deeper at the thought. There had been so many stories coming out recently about things that happened to unsuspecting people… You were so nice, so naive… He needed you to answer him, he needed you to text him back. 

20 minutes had passed since the initial phone call, he had sent you so many texts, and you finally answered him. “Heading home now… I’m sorry.” He was standing at the front door, waiting for your car to pull up, and when it did, there was an officer driving behind you. His heart was racing as he ran out of the house barefoot, not even caring as he ran out into the street to pull open your door, sighing heavily when he saw you sitting there. “What happened…?” He whispered, his hands landing on your shoulders as you climbed out of the car, and he couldn’t not notice how puffy and red your eyes were, but instead of answering, you fell against his chest, your arms wrapping tightly around him. 

The officer had to take some information, and once Minho had thanked him for escorting you home, he walked you into the house, pulling you down on the couch beside him. You told him what had happened, and he went through an array of emotions. Anger, sadness, panic, but most of all, he felt downright awful. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that’s what was happening?” He questioned as you laid against his chest, your fingers gripping tightly onto his shirt as your body continued to tremble. The fear that you had felt still hadn’t left, and he was sure it would be there for a while, and rightfully so. 

“Because I didn’t want you to get hurt trying to race to my job… I know how you are. I just wanted you to know that I love you…” You whispered back, your voice cracking as you started to cry once again. “I know that you love me, and I love you too, so much. I’m gonna drive you to and from work now… I can’t have anything happening to you… I’ve never been so scared in my life.” He murmured, his hand running soothingly up and down your back. Now that he knew you were safe, that fear and desperation that he had felt subsided but quickly turned to anger. He wanted nothing more than to hunt this guy down, to find out who it was and make him feel the same way you felt. You’re his everything, and he was going to do right by you no matter what it takes.

He was in the studio with Chan and Jisung, his phone muted so as to not ruin the recording process. Maybe he had just become complacent in the fact that nothing had ever happened before when you were on your way home, but he never felt the need to have his phone turned on when you were at work or while he was at the studio and you knew that. You’d text him at some point if you had the chance and vice versa, but you both knew that once the two of you were home you’d have so much to talk about it would keep you up for hours. 

“I’m gonna head out now, Y/N should be home by now.” Changbin said, getting up from his chair and stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” He was always the first to come in and get things started so that he could be the first to leave, not wanting you to be at home alone for too long. 

On his venture to the elevator, he finally pulled out his phone, noticing that his lockscreen was filled with missed calls from you from over an hour ago, and then a text from you from 25 minutes ago. You would never call him that much when he was in the studio… Unless there was an emergency… But there were never any emergencies. You worked right down the street from the house, what could possibly happen in that short amount of time? Unless there was an emergency in your job and you were trying to call him. 

Before even checking the text, he called you back, opting to take the stairs just to get out of the building faster as he held his phone up to his ear, waiting to hear your voice. “Binnie… I’m sorry I called so much… I’m okay now.” You whispered into your phone, and there was nothing truly relieving about what you said. You being okay now meant that you hadn’t been okay before and he wasn’t there to help you or even answer your calls when you needed him to. 

“What happened?” He urged, pushing through the exit door on the side of the building and coming out into the parking lot, slightly breathless from the amount of stairs he had just sprinted down in a matter of minutes. “Did you get hurt? Are you home? Where are you right now?” He needed more answers, but all he could hear were your shaky breaths over the line. “Baby… Talk to me, please.” 

He was getting more panicked the longer you stayed silent, and he could hear you softly sniffling as if you were crying. “I’m home… Not hurt… An officer escorted me home. I’ll tell you about it when you get in… Okay? I don’t want to talk about it when I’m by myself…” 

When he finally made it home and came through the door you were waiting for him right beside it, your cheeks stained with tear streaks, and you crashed into him as your body shook with uncontrollable sobs. “Shh… It’s okay… I’m here now…” He cooed, rubbing his hand soothingly over your back, although he still wasn’t sure what had truly happened, it must have been awful for you to be like this. “Tell me what happened…” 

As he sat and listened to you, all he could imagine was how scared you must have been. You were still shaking and you were already home, it must have been downright terrifying to be going through it at that moment. He wanted to know everything about what you possibly could have seen, what was the make of the car, what did the driver look like… He wanted to know every single detail. “Don’t try to find him… It’s not worth it…” You said shakily, holding tightly onto his hand. “It’s over now…” 

But it wasn’t over… Because you hadn’t seen the plate numbers, and all you could go off of was a vehicle description, and whoever this guy was… He was still out there. He could do it to someone else, he could come back and do it to you again… Changbin didn’t want to take those chances. For now though, he agreed, because he wanted to take care of you and make sure you were alright and make sure you felt safe. One thing he was certain about though… He’d never put his phone on silent again.

“I’m in my car now, I’ll text you when I get in the house. I love you!” The text came in and Hyunjin read it quickly, smiling to himself as he sank deeper into the couch at the dorms. You hadn’t been together very long, at least not long enough to take that step to moving in together, but he liked to know exactly when you got off work and exactly when you made it home. The second text that he had gotten used to, that he had timed almost perfectly to come in at least 7 to 10 minutes after the first text meant that you were safe and he’d finally be able to call you on the phone and hear your voice. 

When it went past 15 minutes and that second text didn’t come in, his initial thought was that you had just forgotten. Maybe work was just really tiring today and you ended up laying on the couch and passing out… But that didn’t make sense either… You’ve had days like that before and you still texted him to let him know you made it home safe… You just weren’t able to call him because you had gone straight to bed right after. 

“Hey honey… Did you make it home? Text me as soon as you can… I’m getting worried.” He quickly typed out the message, dropping his phone onto his lap as he nervously watched his screen. There were some nights that you’d stop at the store or the gas station on your way home, but even then, you’d text him beforehand that you planned on going there before going home, and then you’d text him when you made it to whatever destination you were headed to. 

After 5 minutes of you still not responding he couldn’t take it anymore, dialing your number quickly and heading to the front door. You had never gone this long without answering him, and you certainly wouldn’t have ignored a phone call from him. He even had his own special ringtone in your phone so you’d know it was him. Something must have happened, and his mind immediately jumped to the worst. 

“What’s going on?” Chan asked as he turned the corner from the kitchen, watching Hyunjin pull on his shoes. “You’re heading out?” Hyunjin never left this late at night, he’d usually already be in his room talking on the phone with you, his giddy voice heard through the walls, giving Jisung and Changbin perfect ammunition to tease him with the next morning. 

“Y/N hasn’t texted me to let me know she made it home… She didn’t answer my text or my call…” Hyunjin said, frantically looking around the room as if he was missing something, but it was just his phone which was still in his hand. He felt like a chicken running around with his head cut off, but the panic seemed reasonable at this point. “Can you drive me to her place?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes silently pleading with his hyung to say yes. 

“I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably just stuck in-” 

“No! She lives in a residential area… Her work is only a couple blocks away… She doesn’t have to go through traffic! Something happened!” Hyunjin shrieked, running his hands through his hair. “Look, if you’re not going to take me to her house, fine… I’ll catch a cab or something. But I need to be there. I need to make sure she’s alright.” 

So Chan relented, grabbing his keys off the hook and following Hyunjin out the door, trying his best to keep up with the younger guy who seemed to be racing against time as he ran down the hall to the stairs. 

In Hyunjins hurry to leave the dorms, he had forgotten to grab the key you had given him to get into your house, but he knew you weren’t home yet. The lights weren’t shining through the blinds in the window, there were no lights on at all. Your dog was still barking at the front door as he and Chan sat on your front porch. But what really gave away that you weren’t home was the fact that your car wasn’t parked out front. 

Every single set of headlights that came around the bend had Hyunjin standing up, checking to see if it were you only to dejectedly sit back down as the car sped past. You still hadn’t texted him back and his heart continued to sink deeper and deeper into the pit of his stomach the longer the silence lasted. 

Two sets of headlights came around, both of them lighting up the street, and this time Hyunjin didn’t even bother to stand up, his head dropping back down to stare at his phone screen as he expected them to drive right by like the other cars did… Until the car in front parked right in front of your house, and he realized that the car that had been driving behind was a cop car. 

He pushed himself up off the stairs, tripping over his feet as he ran down to meet you outside of your car, practically pulling you out of it once your seatbelt was unlatched. “Oh my baby… What happened?!” He cried, his eyes already welling up as he looked you over, checking for any sign of injury or harm, but all he could see was that you had been crying, you were still crying. “Baby…?” His voice lowered a little more as he looked at you with worry filled eyes, his bottom lip jutting out. 

“I am going to need some information. Your license and your phone number.” The cop said, and Hyunjins eyes widened. Did you get into an accident? Your car didn’t look damaged or dented, and you’d have surely called him if something like that did happen. He watched as you handed over your license to the officer, your hands trembling and your breaths shallow and uneven. “If something like that ever happens again, if you see that car or the driver, just call that number…” The officer handed you a tiny white card and gave you a sympathetic smile. “You’re okay, everything is gonna be okay.” 

He was more confused than ever now as he watched the officer climb back in his car, but he didn’t take the time to watch him drive away, quickly grabbing your bag and then leading you up to your house. “I’m sorry… Sorry for worrying you…” You croaked out as you kicked your shoes off and dropped down onto the couch, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. 

“No… Don’t apologize…” Hyunjin squatted down in front of you, grabbing both of your hands and giving them a light squeeze. “The cop followed you home… What happened? Why?” He questioned, kissing the back of your hands before cupping your cheeks, brushing away your tears with his thumbs. 

“I was… followed home… I had to go all the way around… And they kept following me. They blinded me with their high beams and… I called the cops. I didn’t know what to do… I drove back up to work…” You explained, your breaths coming out more heavy, your words broken up by loud sobs as your head fell forward. “I was so scared, Hyunjin…” 

He didn’t say anything, instead he scurried up onto the couch, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you onto his lap, his hand moving up to the back of your head to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Hot tears fell against his skin as he rocked you, whispering I love you’s as he held you close against him. 

There wasn’t much he could do, it had already happened, it’s not like he would have been able to stop it. Now all he could do was try to fight that fear, to make you feel safe again. It wouldn’t be easy, but nothing worth fighting for was ever easy. “I’m moving in… I don’t want you to be alone. Text me when you get off work and I’ll get a ride down there just so I can ride with you back home. This’ll never happen again, I swear.”

The problem with being out of the country for tours was the fact that he couldn’t bring you with him. Not only was it protocol from his staff members and management themselves, but your work didn’t really allow you that much time off. Whenever he was away, the two of you depended on texts, calls, and video chats to talk to each other, and with him being so far away, he liked to know everything. He wanted minute by minute updates on how your day was going and whether you made it to and from work safely. The guys would always tease him and say he’s being a little redundant, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting to make sure the person you love is okay. 

Your work schedule was never consistent either, which sometimes made it hard for Jisung to relax. Sometimes you’d get off work at 8pm, and other times you wouldn’t even be leaving the building until 11pm. It just depended on how much you had to do, and that would leave him restless, waiting for your text to come in to let him know you were on your way home. 

Tonight seemed to be a late night, and even though he wasn’t back at the house waiting for you, he couldn’t help but anxiously look over at his phone every couple seconds to see if your text had come in. He was about to start a live stream, it was already 10:40pm where you were, and there hadn’t been a single text yet, so he decided to text you. 

“Hey pookie bear, I’m about to start the live. You can still text me to let me know when you get off and please let me know when you get home. I love you so so so much!! I can’t wait to be back home with you!” He quickly sent the text before setting his phone down to the side to start the stream, trying his best to shake the nerves so he could turn on the camera. 

15 minutes into the stream his phone started vibrating. It wasn’t a text, it was a phone call coming in, and one glance over had him reading your name. Maybe you hadn’t read his text, but you usually didn’t call him during a stream, and you rarely ever called him when you were on your way home, and he still hadn’t texted him… Something must be wrong. He looked to the staff member who seemed just as confused on what to do, but he decided to answer it anyway. He wasn’t going to just let it go to voicemail. 

“Sungie… Baby…” Your voice came through softly, slightly muffled by the sound of the car engine humming in the background. “I love you so much… You mean the world to me, and you’re so special, you’re so amazing at everything you do… And I’m just… I’m so lucky that you’re my boyfriend, and I really wish I could spend the rest of my life with you… I just wanted you to know that. I have to go now though… I’ll text you if I can… Love you…” 

Now, Jisung was rarely ever stunned into silence, but this call had him staring blankly at the staff behind the camera who hadn’t heard anything. The call ended so quickly, but you were clearly panicking, you were crying, and he had never felt so hopeless in his life. He was thousands of miles away, and now you weren’t answering any of his calls. “The fans are wondering where you went…” The staff member said, but how was he supposed to worry about the fans when you were clearly in trouble, or hurt, or both. 

“I don’t know if I can… I…” Jisung stammered, running his hands over his face, feeling his palms get dampened with the tears that had started to fall. “Y/N is in trouble and I really need to try to get a hold of her… I can’t get back on like this… I’m scared.” He explained, but the staff member rolled his eyes, coming over with a box of tissues and setting it down in front of Jisung before flicking back on the camera. 

He didn’t have a choice it felt, but once the camera was off and the stream was over, he’d be having a long talk with the managers about the staff member who clearly wasn’t concerned with anything but himself. For the time being, he pretended to read comments off his phone as he stared at the text screen, waiting for you to say something, anything, to let him know that you were okay. 

It felt like forever, but in actuality, it was only another 10 minutes before another one of your texts came in. “I’m home now… A cop followed me home to make sure I’d be okay. I don’t want to worry you, it’s over with now, but I know that you’ll still ask, but I was followed home… I’ll explain everything when I get the chance to, but right now I just want to take a shower and go to bed. I love you… I can’t wait to see you either.” 

The text wasn’t in any way helpful, it actually made him feel nauseous, knowing that he wasn’t there when you had clearly been through something so traumatic that it made you feel like you had to call him just to say goodbye. The stream was still going, but he couldn’t be bothered to focus on it anymore, his attention solely on his phone screen as he continued to read and reread the message. He couldn’t keep up the act though, and once he had fully processed what he read, he looked to the camera. “I have to go now, there’s an emergency. I’m sorry… Please be safe, STAY. I love all of you.” 

As soon as the camera was off and the live stream ended, the staff member was pissed, but Jisung was just as angry. He was angry at himself, angry at the guy who was now coming closer to grab the laptop who had selfishly forced him to continue to live stream. “This is ridiculous. I’m sure the managers are gonna be real happy, especially ending a stream like that. I can only imagine the rumors that’ll come up.” 

Jisung didn’t care about any of that though, all he cared about was you. He pushed himself up out of the chair and headed to his hotel room door, pulling it open and motioning for the staff member to leave. “There is an emergency, and my girlfriend being terrified after being followed home when she was leaving work isn’t ridiculous. She’s terrified and I’m not there to physically comfort her and the last thing I want to do is a fucking live stream pretending that everything is all sunshine and rainbows. So get out, I have to call her.” 

Since you were okay, Jisung couldn’t exactly use your fear as a reason to leave the tour early, much to his disappointment. He wanted you to come out to be with him though, even if only for a couple days to help get your mind off of what had happened, but of course, you were still needed at work and your job really didn’t care that you had gone through something like that… Which again, made Jisung hate your job more than he already did. 

The distance seemed to feel so much further after what happened though, and there was nothing that would make him fully relax until he got home. For now though, you both agreed to stay on the phone with one another whenever you were driving, even if he was on a stream or in the middle of a concert, he’d stop everything he was doing to make sure you made it work and back home safe without something like this happening for a second time, and that agreement carried on even when he got home from tour… And now when you got home and he was there, he’d be waiting for you at the front door with open arms. That fear wouldn’t just stick with you, but it stuck with him too… The fear of losing you, of not knowing what to do… He never wanted either of you to feel that way again.

Your schedule was erratic to say the least, there was never a set time to you getting off, and Felix, being the sunshine that he is, trusted that you’d get home safe without any problems every single night that you did work. That’s why he didn’t expect you to call him or text him, he just believed that everything would be fine, and when you did get home, you’d let him know all about your day as he sat beside you on the couch. 

Tonight was no different, other than the fact that he was staying at the dorms because he had to head out early for a music video shoot the very next morning. You knew about this, and while you both hated being away from each other, you understood that his work was demanding, and sometimes it demanded that he be away from you for long periods of time. Instead of talking about your days in person tonight, you both had agreed on video calling each other, which was something that he was excitedly awaiting. 

When his phone started to buzz, he jumped off the couch and ran to his bedroom, shutting the door and locking it before answering and flopping down on his bed, a smile spread across his face as he waited to hear your usually cheerful greeting. “Felix…” You gasped out his name, and the happiness that he had expected to hear wasn’t there at all. He immediately went into panic mode, sitting upright on his bed and holding his phone closer to his ear. “I…I’m being followed, I don’t know what to do… I already drove past the house and… They’re still following me. They almost drove right into me… Felix I’m scared… What do I do?” 

You were audibly crying which had his own tears on the brink of falling over the edge, his fingers gripping the sheets tightly as his leg bounced over the side of the bed. “Hang up, angel… Call the police. You have to call the cops, right now… Okay?” He urged, or, moreso, demanded you to do. He hated the fact that he told you to hang up, but he knew that there was nothing he could do from where he was at right now. 

“Y-Yeah… Okay… I love you.” Was how the call ended, not even having the opportunity to say it back. He couldn’t sit still, adrenaline was coursing through his veins, and he wanted to go to you, he wanted to go to your apartment and wait for you there just to know that you made it home safe. The worst part was that he didn’t even know where you were going right now, he should have asked, but he didn’t want to waste anymore time which was essential to you and your safety at that moment. 

He couldn’t even stand to be cramped in his room that felt a little bit too small right now, walking out into the main room where the guys were sitting, and as if his emotions were like a cloud that had hit all of them at once, their heads lifted to look at him, questioning the tension that was radiating off of him in waves. “Y/N is being followed… Fuck! I don’t even know where she’s at right now… And she’s on the phone with the cops… I can’t call her…” He ranted, his hands running anxiously through his hair. 

“Do you want to drive out there to her apartment to make sure she makes it home? I can drive you there.” Minho offered, and Felix looked around the room once before nodding his head in agreement, shuffling over to the door and pulling on the first pair of shoes he could find. “I’m sure she’ll be okay. She’s a smart girl, she probably went back to her work.” His hyung tried his best to instill comforting thoughts, but Felix couldn’t stop thinking the worst. 

“Why would anyone follow her? Why would someone try to scare her like that? They could have caused her to get in an accident! What if they were trying to hurt her?!” Felix continued to ramble, and there was truly nothing that anyone could say to get him to think otherwise, not until he saw you again and made sure that you were truly okay. 

Just as Minho pulled up outside the apartment building, you were pulling into your parking spot, followed by an officer who parked a little further away. You seemed to be in a daze when you climbed out of the car, not even noticing that Felix and Minho were right there. Your keys jingled at your side from how much you were shaking, and he hated seeing you this way. He hated to know that someone, some stranger, had caused you to get like this. 

“Angel…” Felix blurted out, causing you to jump and drop your keys, which he rushed over to pick up off the ground before you could even begin to bend over to grab them. “You’re alright?” He questioned, holding you at arms length to check you over, and once he saw that you were okay, other than the crying, he pulled you against his chest. “You’re alright. You’re safe now…” He cooed, not even wanting to let you go for a minute to get out of the street and walk you into the apartment. 

“It was awful… I’ve never been more scared… My hands were shaking… I never use my phone while I’m driving… I couldn’t even focus… I thought I’d crash…” You choked out, your face still buried in his shirt as he continued to pet his hand over your hair. “He… He flashed his headlights at me… And I wasn’t going to stop… I just kept going… And I was scared my gas would run out and…” 

Felix shushed you, not wanting you to continue reliving those moments, at least not right now. You were safe with him, you were okay, although the mention of the headlights had him remembering a news report he had seen a while back about what that sometimes meant and it made him sick to his stomach. “You’re such a smart girl, angel… You did great. I’m gonna stay with you tonight, and all day tomorrow. I’ll head to the set the next day. I’m gonna get you one of those dash cameras… I gotta make sure my angel is safe, always.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, giving you a soft sympathetic smile. “Let’s get inside, get you something to drink, and then we can lay down and cuddle for the rest of the night… How does that sound?”

“What time do you think you’re getting off tonight?” Seungmin asked from the back room, the stylist working around his phone that he had held up to his ear. Hearing your voice always helped calm his nerves before he did an interview, although he’d never tell anyone else that. 

“Not sure… It’s a late night tonight. I’ve got a bunch of stuff to do when I finish actually working.” You answered dejectedly. Seungmin hated how much your job seemed to overwork you, and it wasn’t just that, but they didn’t even show any sort of appreciation for the things that you did. There was no raise in your near future, although Seungmin would always be the first one demanding that you get one whenever you brought it up. No one even thanked you, it’s like they simply expected it of you, which pissed him off. 

“You know that I’d take care of you. You don’t have to stay there.” He reminded you, and he heard your tired chuckle, one that usually meant that you wanted to take him up on the offer, but you couldn’t take him up on the offer either, and that’s why he never pushed the issue any further. “I’m doing an interview, but you know the number for the staff if there’s an emergency, right?” You hummed in agreement, and he sighed quietly. “Text me as soon as you get off work and as soon as you get through the front door. Okay?” 

“Alright. I love you.” You whispered, and you couldn’t see it, but his cheeks raised and turned a light shade of pink, his heart fluttering at those three words. You were the only person that could ever make him get like this. “I gotta get back to work. I can’t wait to hear about the interview tonight.” 

“Mm… I’ll tell you all about it. Don’t overwork yourself… And don’t play your music too loud in the car, you won’t be able to hear anything.” He preemptively scolded you, and he knew that you were rolling your eyes, but you always played your music a little bit too loud… Something that worried him when he knew you were driving home alone at night. He wished that he could be there waiting for you when you got home, but he’d be there soon enough, and that’s what was going to get him through the interview. 

About 30 minutes into the interview, Seungmin saw one of the staff members bring their phone up to their ear, their mouths immediately falling as they listened to whatever it was that was going on. Seungmin was observant, but he wouldn’t have thought anything of it if the member didn’t make direct eye contact with him before walking further away from the interview set. 

None of the other guys seemed to notice, and neither did the interviewer, they were all still talking and goofing off, making it harder for Seungmin to even try to hear what was being said. “I’m not feeling too well, can I have a minute?” He said, still staring at the staff member who seemed to be on the phone still. The guys all turned to look at him, but he didn’t have time to answer their questions, not when he had his own that he needed answers to. 

By the time he got up and made his way over to the staff member, the call seemed to be over, but the girl who had answered the call seemed to still be a little shaken up. Whatever it was, it must be bad. Once she noticed he was standing there, her head was already shaking, her mouth opening and closing as if she didn’t know what to say, which only annoyed Seungmin. If it was serious, he wanted to know right now. “She called… Y/N called… She was crying and panicking and… She said she was being followed and… She said she’s on her way back to her work now and she’s calling the police… I told her to call them…” 

Seungmins mind was immediately going through different scenarios, a multitude of different reasons for something like this to be happening. He was trying to be as rational as possible, which was quite hard to do when the worry was setting in and he felt absolutely helpless as your boyfriend. “Good… Good… That’s good…” He rambled, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to think of what to do. “Let them know that I need to go… I need to get up to her work right now…” 

There was only a short list of people that would follow you and have you panicking so badly. It was either a crazed fan that wanted to get to Seungmin or wanted to hurt you for being with him, or some absolute psychotic stranger. Crazily enough, it would be better if it were a fan honestly, at least Seungmin would know the motive and knew that most of them were hopefully not dumb enough to do something crazy in a public space such as your work. If it were a stranger… He didn’t know what they were capable of, and that scared the hell out of him. 

It felt like he was racing against time, and in that race, the staff member that was driving seemed to catch every single red light. It was aggravating, it was infuriating, and what was worse was the fact that you still hadn’t answered any of his texts which he had been sending out every five seconds, and the only reason it was taking that long was because he needed to type them out. 

By the time he got to your work, the cop was just pulling up. You had been sitting out in your car in front of the store for that long just waiting for an officer, and that too bothered him to no end. What if something bad had happened? Why didn’t the officer come quicker? He didn’t even wait for the car to come to a complete stop before jumping out and running over to your passenger door and knocking on the window. 

“Excuse me!” The officer shouted, rushing over to Seungmin, but you quickly rolled down the window, exclaiming that he was your boyfriend and unlocking the door so he could climb in. Of course, the officer needed to take down some information which seemed to take even longer when all Seungmin wanted to do was get back to the house with you and comfort you. 

“I didn’t want to ruin the interview…” You murmured as you put the car in drive, slowly taking off and heading back down the street. “I didn’t think they’d tell you… I’m sorry for making you leave.” If you weren’t driving, Seungmin would have kissed you to get you to stop thinking that way. An interview definitely wasn’t more important than your safety. “Are the guys mad?” 

Seungmin sighed, his head leaning back against the headrest but turned in your direction so he could look at you. Your knuckles had turned pale from how tight you were gripping the steering wheel, and your body was still shaking. You shouldn’t be driving like this. “This would be quite a stupid thing to get mad about, wouldn’t it? If you need me, I’m always going to run to you, before anything else. You’re my priority first and foremost.” He explained, and you nodded your head slowly, shakily sniffling as your bottom lip began to tremble. “I love you… That’s why I ran to you. She didn’t even have to tell me what was going on… As soon as she looked at me and I saw that look on her face, I asked her what happened. I’m so sorry you had to go through that by yourself… But never again…” 

You shook your head, your face scrunching up as you gasped sharply. “I still have to drive at night to get home from work. I… I don’t know if I can… Just the thought of it…” Your head dropped as you came to a stop sign, your hands quickly wiping the tears from your cheeks, and he wished he could have done it for you. “I’ve never… I don’t ever… God… Seungmin I’m so scared… What if they do it again?” If it were to happen again, if the same person were to come after you… Seungmin wouldn’t hold back. They were messing with the most precious thing in his life, and the fact that they had gotten away with it now, they should count themselves lucky. But Seungmin wouldn’t allow it to happen again, he wouldn’t allow you to be put in a situation where it could happen again. “I know you, for some reason, feel like you need to stay at your job. I’m not going to take that away from you… But I don’t want you driving at night by yourself again… Ever again. I’ll have one of the staff members come pick you up. Or I’ll have them drop me off so that I can ride with you. Either way… If you truly want to keep working there on that shift… You’re not driving alone at night anymore. I love you, and I don’t think I’d be able to live if anything ever happened to you. I’m going to make sure you’re safe. Always.”

He was performing tonight on Music Bank, and you had told him that you’d try to make it home in time to catch his performance. Of course, he told you it would be okay if you didn’t, and that he didn’t want you rushing to get done and potentially getting hurt trying to get home too fast. He already had your TV set up to record their episode just in case you weren’t home in time to see it. 

Your break managed to come at just the time that he was getting done up by his stylist, sending you silly little selfies to try to make you feel better after you had told him about how awful and busy your day had been. “I’m hoping I’ll be done soon, and then I can get home and change into my pajamas before the show starts.” 

Even though it made him beyond happy to know that you so eagerly wanted to see him perform, he wanted you to be safe, and he appreciated you regardless of whether you caught the show or not, just the fact that you wanted to rush so you could catch it was enough for him. “You have time… So please, take it. You won’t miss anything anyway, you’ve already seen us perform it multiple times in the practice room.” 

He could sense your eye roll just from staring at his phone screen, the way his message was left on read a couple seconds before the three dots appeared to show you were typing back. “Yeaaaah…. But I still want to watch it. I’m ending my break early just so I can get done faster. I love youuuuu. Hugs and kisses mwah mwah!!” 

How could you be so cute even over text? God, he loved you, and now it only made him worry more about how fast you’d be driving to try to get back home. He quickly typed out his last response. “Please drive the speed limit. I love you most. Seriously… Be safe.” 

15 minutes before the show was about to start, he got another text, and he quickly grabbed his phone from off the vanity table, his heart swelling when he read your message. “I’m fast as fuck baybeeee!!! I’m gonna make it home in time to see your performance. I might not catch the interview before hand though :(“ 

He chuckled to himself, hiding his phone from the guys as he texted you back. “That’s alright, but now that I know you’ll be watching, I’ll do so much better. Get home safe baybeeee! I love you a bunch!” He never thought he’d be this sappy, but with you, it didn’t even make him cringe. He just loved you so damn much, it was like you alone were making his earth spin. 

It didn’t take you that long to get home, he knew the drive from your work to your house by heart, and he was sure that you’d be able to make it home just by the end of the interview. His mind was soaring, thinking of ways that he could do facial expressions or certain moves just for you, things that only you would recognize that you’d know were for you only. It was one of his favorite things to do, giving you something to look for while he was dancing, and then coming home to hear from you if you actually caught it. 

As he stepped out on stage, he found his camera and smiled at it, giving a small wave to the lens before getting into place. This performance would be for you, entirely for you. He couldn’t wait for you to see it. 

He was sweaty, breathless, but excited as he rushed back off to the dressing room, grabbing his phone off the vanity and getting even more giddy when he saw the missed phone call and voicemail from you. It was probably you telling him just how amazing he was and that you had caught the little hand sign and wink that he had done for you. 

Dropping down into his seat, he played the voicemail, full volume because honestly, he didn’t care if the guys heard. You’d probably be complimenting all of them as well in the message. “Jeongin!” Your voice sounded through his speakers, and he wasn’t used to you saying his name like that, especially with that tone, and he immediately perked up in his seat. The sound of your voice had already gotten the attention of the other guys in the room and they had all begun to crowd around Jeongins chair as they listened with him. “Fuck… Fuck fuck… What do you want?!” You whimpered, the sound of your obvious crying and clear panic had Jeongin on edge, his eyes widening as he looked up at Chan. “I love you… And I’m really sorry I didn’t get to catch your performance but I know you and the guys did amazing. Uhm… Shit… Okay… I’m being followed and… And I have to go but… I just wanted you to know that I love you, okay? Don’t forget that.” The kissy sound at the end of the call wasn’t how Jeongin remembered it sounding, but he couldn’t even focus entirely on that. 

You were being followed, and instead of calling the cops first, you called him. Why would you call him? How bad was it? The call came in almost 10 minutes ago. “Call her… See if she answers.” Chan urged, but Jeongin couldn’t seem to get his fingers to move, he couldn’t even seem to breathe evenly as his mind went into a frenzy. “Someone call her! Minho, Changbin, you get him to Y/N’s apartment, someone go find one of the security and go see if they can find out where she is.” 

Minho was on the phone in seconds, dialing your number as he and Changbin ushered a seemingly shellshocked Jeongin out of the room. He was shaking, his phone still tightly gripped in his hand as he robotically followed behind the guys. “Everything is gonna be okay. I’m like… 99% sure she’s okay.” Changbin said, patting Jeongins back as he climbed into the back seat of Changbins car. 

“What about the other 1%?” Jeongin whispered anxiously from the back as Changbin climbed into the car. The two older guys both turned to look at Jeongin, confused about the question, but his hand slapped against the seat beside him. “What about the 1%?! You said you were 99% sure that she’s okay… So what about the other 1%?!” 

Changbin took a deep breath, looking to Minho who only shook his head as he continued trying to call your phone that was going to voicemail as well. “Don’t think about the other 1%. She’s fine. Okay?” 

Jeongin was completely zoned out the entire ride to your house, unable to think of anything except your voicemail. He had never heard you sound so scared and that fear was contagious, he was terrified for you, with you. He didn’t even realize how long Changbin had been driving until the car came to a stop, and he finally looked out the window to see that it was parked right outside of your house. 

The light from the TV was flickering through the blinds, and without a word or a look back, he climbed out of the car and ran to your door, his fist coming down harshly against it. He immediately regretted it though, wondering if the sudden loud knocking would frighten you more, but the door swung open and he saw you, illuminated by the light of the room behind you, already dressed in your pajamas, but your eyes were still puffy and your nose was still sniffling. You had been crying still. 

“Innie…” You croaked out his name, and he quickly pulled you into his arms, inhaling the scent of you, simply wanting to hold you after being worried for so long that he had lost you. “I’m sorry I missed it… I was watching it though… Just now…” 

He sighed softly, shaking his head as he tilted your back with his finger, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I’m not worried about that. God… I’m just… I’m happy that you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do if something had happened to you…” But he cut himself off, biting his bottom lip to keep from pessimistically rambling about all of the awful things that could have happened. “You’re okay though? Not hurt?” 

You shook your head in response, giving him a small smile. “Just a little shaken up… You’re here now though… I feel a lot better.” You were acting so strong, and he knew that you were only doing it because you could see how scared he had been. “I shouldn’t have called you and worried you like that… It was a… Just in case call… So that you’d know that-” 

He kissed you again, stopping you from continuing that thought. “I’m glad you called me…” He kissed you again, his hands cupping your cheeks now as he brushed his thumbs along your dampened cheeks. “But I want you to call the police first if anything like that happens again… I really want you to move to the morning shift so that nothing like that happens again…” You nodded your head slowly as your sniffles subsided until they weren’t heard anymore. “And I’m gonna get my permit… I’m gonna learn how to drive, I’ll have the guys teach me… I don’t want you driving by yourself anymore. I’ll be your personal chauffeur. Until then… I’ll just ride with you and wait up at your work until you get off.” You scoffed, but he wasn’t joking, and you quickly realized that. “You don’t know how worried I was… I wouldn’t be able to live anymore if you were gone.”

[charlyonok]

Woo! B-day. Finally. Redrew my icon for myself. Also tried foreshortening. More info about the art under the cut!

The original was the only angst piece I've ever drawn, and it was only implied. For some reason, I liked the headcanon of Emmet having alexithymia(difficulty understanding and expressing emotions) and described his feelings as sounds. For example, the sound of the bells represented happiness. The piece was supposed to be him trying to cope with Ingo's disappearance by attaching as many bells on himself as possible.

Obviously, stories like these are not mine to tell, and I won't pretend that I know a lot about it. The bells are still there just for the sake of self-indulgent metal rendering. The meaning changed, just like my approach to drawing fanart, which went from being stressed about everything to "you can do whatever you want forever". Made drawing way less exhausting, which is probably noticeable by how much I posted this month <3

[iwritebigbellies-blog]

What do you think "caused" your stuffing kink? I'm curious because I can't find any research as to why, biologically, the stuffing kink is a thing. I've had mine since I was old enough to remember, i.e., a toddler - watching cartoon characters eat a lot for a gag and feeling weird about it. I've got no idea what caused it or why my brain is apparently wired this way, especially since (like you, and apparently unlike the majority of the feedism community) it is *just* the stuffing and not wg/etc that turns me on. Just curious about other peoples' (and especially those who, like me, are primarily into the stuffing and not the wg aspect) experiences, I guess.

This got out of hand. Sorry.

TL:DR - I was born this way

Deeper thoughts:

So, when I was very distraught about why I had developed this incredibly inconvenient kink, I did a little bit of looking into paraphilias.

Unlike some other "kinks", this isn't a lifestyle choice (in my case, this is something I need to be sexually satisfied. I do not get aroused without it, I definitely do not cum without it.) It isn't something that is going to "spice up the bedroom" for someone looking for a new kind of fun. It is a flatly non-sexual thing that my brain has decided is hyper sexual. I think a good analogy is a foot fetish. Nobody decides to get into feet for fun. You either sexualize them, or you don't.

I think stuffing falls under fetishistic paraphilia, like the foot thing. There's a prevelent theory that foot fetishism is actually rooted in neurology. The foot section and the genitals sections of the brain are literally just super close together, so a little divergent wiring and boom, the foot is a sexual organ.

This kind of thinking rings the most true to me. Because I can't think of an "inciting incident" or single media that really made an impression on me: I wasn't even allowed to watch tv when I was a kid, so I mostly got my weird feelings from books and comics, and it felt more like recognizing a feeling that was already there than a single jarring experience. Also, because it doesn't feel confusing or traumatic or naughty to me: it's not like I got sex=forbidden, fat =forbidden, ergo fat=sex all jumbled up. There's no feeling of shame in my kink. Just the usual feelings one has about sex things: pleasure, intimacy, indulgence.

I feel like I am just wired different. I truly don't think I could, for example, therapize this away. It feels more like being straight: it is just foundational to my sexuality. It is my sexuality. Nothing made me like this. I just am.

Two tangental things about that:

Look at the people who try to run away from this kink. They always come back. It doesn't change or go away for them. There are a lot of really miserable people in this kink because a) we've pathologized it and b) there has been no real effort to make a welcoming community around paraphilias or fetishes in general. There is no safe space for fetishists. This kind of kills me, because I have talked to a lot of men in this kink and each of them has come at it in a totally different way. They could be helping each other understand this. They should be sharing coping or lifestyle tips. They could be more open about healthy ways to live it or showing success stories with partners and lives. We could all be more welcoming and understanding of the people who wander in here, because this thing isn't going away and we are all we have. We shouldn't be treating it like a disorder or social contagion.

I think being more community-minded would also help with the thing where some of us have "rare" versions of this kink. Cuz, yah, my sexuality is stuffing, not wg. There genuinely don't seem to be many of us. And it isn't cuz I am fatphobic and just want conventionally-hot guys to temporarily fatten up or whatever shit I am being accused of this week...I actually really prefer fat guys in a strictly aesthetic sense. But it isn't foundational to my sexuality. That is a whole different universe.

But because we're treating all of this like a den of iniquity, we're only engaging with each other on a horny level. And if you come at someone horny and they are not equally horny for you (such as when somebody comes at me asking how much weight I'd like them to gain), the conversation ends instantly, often in disgust, and leaves one or the other person feeling shame or guilt.

Those of us with more "rare" fetishes are gonna feel this bounce more than someone with a more conventional fetish. But, dammit, I still need a place, I still need a platform. I need to stand somewhere while I am waiting for the rare person who is actualy on my wavelength. I want to feel accepted and safe as a fetishist, not just horny. I am more than my libido, even as a fetishist.

Gonna throw some numbers out there.

The prevelence of true fetishism in the population is pretty unknown, but some studies have suggested like 11-17% of the male population have fetishistic fantasies, with women reporting in way lower, like 0-10%. But most of those are sort of conventionally sexual people who think it might be hot to have sex in public or with someone wearing cute gloves. The ones who are all-in on being fully fetishy (like me) are more like 0.00125% of the population. Of those, the vast majority are men.

Within the fetishist population, only about 15% are into specific body parts. (0.000002% of everyone, in our back-of-napkin math.) Almost half of those are into feet. There are other groupings: I have never seen "bellies" divided out on its own (though one did single out navels) so we're gonna say we are "other body parts", which is about 13% of body-part fetishists. (Math fails me here... what are we at, like, 0.000000026% or something?) It doesn't even matter at this point, it basically means that, statistically, every person on the planet who is as obsessed with full bellies as I am could fit in a small-town auditorium, and most of them would be men.

(Yah, I know, actual numbers probably much higher because all these studies require people to self-report, and shame/embarassment cuts that way down.)

If this was based on some kind of early conditioning, my feeling is the numbers would be waaaay the fuck higher.

Anyway, I am still mildly obsessed with Jughead Jones. >.>

[bratphilia]

nsfw alphabet: mike schmidt

note: i am a nsfw alphabet virgin so please be kind ^-^ also the wild card was so self indulgent byeskdj

taglist: @dilfity

a = aftercare

mike checks up on you, during and after sex. he brings you water and anything sweet. will also take a shower or bath with you that sometimes ends in round two.

b = body part

doesn't have one tbh. he's obsessed with your boobs, big or small, he likes to make the peaks harden with his fingers while the other is in his mouth. he loves clutching at your chest when you're riding him and looking at your pair while you suck him off. but he's also an ass man — again — big or small. loves to smack it, grab it, knead it, or finish on it.

c = cum

only comes inside when he's pussy-drunk and forgets to pull out. he doesn't want kids but he'll entertain the idea of coming inside if you have a breeding kink, then he'll just buy you a plan b. again, loves to pull out and come on your chest or ass.

d = dirty secret

wants you to tie him up when he's feeling needy, OR wants you to call him daddy.

e = experience

a lot of mike's experience comes from random occurences, such as high school flings, but since he's been taking care of his sister he hasn't had much of his adult life to explore sex that much. he watched a lot of porn to cope with the sexual frustration and it's hard for him to build relationships with women outside his family. it's complicated.

f = favorite position

LOVES IT WHEN YOU RIDE HIM. he gets to see everything, from your pretty little reactions, the way is cock disappears inside and reappears outside your pussy, and he gets to play with your tits

g = goofy

sometimes he'll laugh at some of the things he says when he's dirty talking to you like he can't believe he just said it. he also sometimes can't keep a straight face if you two are roleplaying. other than that, sex is no laughing matter to him.

h = hair

his hair is as messy as the hair on his head. enough said.

i = intimacy

varies based on the context leading up to sex. sex used to mean a lot more to him meaning he would always make it romantic, passionate love making, but he's getting used to more rough sex and quickies.

j = jack off

his favorite way to get off is either you telling him what you want to do to him, or just masturbating to photos of you, purposefully sexy or not.

k = kink

i've included this in two fics so far and i'll say it again: he has a huge voyeurism kink. he doesn't necessarily want to watch someone else fuck you... but if he did? fuck, it would get him hard. he moreso wants someone to watch you guys.

l = location

bedroom but sometimes he can't just help it!! there's no time for when or how, he'll just have to have you right then and there. this is where he really gets annoying because the public teasing goes crazy with mike.

m = motivation

i kid you not he is literally like a wild cat that goes into heat every now and then. however, if you're wearing something of his (especially the classic big t-shirt + panties combo) he just can't contain himself. he's also very much motivated by his anger and stress.

n = no

would never do something that you guys didn't talk about first. he MIGHT entertain the idea of cnc, but you guys would have to go through every explicit detail of what you want him to do to you.

o = oral

blowjobs are fine. they get him off. but mans is the biggest munch that ever munched. he will literally come in his pants while you're riding his face, no stimulation required.

p = pace

again, depends on the mood and the context leading to sex. if he's in a needy mood, he's practically humping your leg and thrusting in erratically and babbling incoherent words. when he wants to be rougher, he'll push your face into the mattress and just pound into you.

q = quickie

king of quickies. they tend to be the most efficient way to fuck when he's a caretaker at his age.

r = risk

things have to be discussed beforehand, in very explicit detail. he honestly wouldn't know what to do to you otherwise. he just wants to satisfy you!!

s = stamina

he'd honestly just be happy as long as he can give you head and make you orgasm at least twice. that's enough for him.

t = toys

would never personally buy a toy but would use the fuck out of them to tease you with if you had any. but vibrators ONLY. he hates anything being inserted into you that isn't his cock, tongue, or fingers.

u = unfair

loves to tease and edge, but it depends on how much time you have and the situation. if it's out in public, he's teasing you and there's a twenty percent chance he'll actually let you come.

v = volume

has surprisingly trained himself to keep quiet for the sake of his sister, but a whimper escapes him every now and then. he loves to tell you to "shut the fuck up" when you need to be quiet.

w = wild card

if you dated him before and during the events at freddy's, you would be right there with him at his career counselling appointment, where he caught his counselor raking his eyes up and down your body. he decided, intrigued, he wants to try a threesome.

x = x-ray

average but very girthy. maybe about 5 inches?? i don't really see him as a grower.

y = yearning

he literally has two moods: in heat or dom. literally the definition of a switch.

z = zZz

he takes sleeping pills after you guys fuck, but tries to stay awake until you've fallen asleep first.

[frasier-crane-style]

Watching White Collar, I'm in a two dimes situation with this and Stargate: Atlantis, where you actually watch a show with a huge slash fandom and find that the two guys aren't gay at all. I know slash fandom will read pretty much any relationship between two men as buttsex, but in this case, it seems so specific that Peter is the aloof big brother reluctantly giving guidance and Neil is the hyperactive kid brother reluctantly admitting he needs guidance that, I don't know, it kinda stuns me you could see that as sexual? They're closer to being father/son

Plus, Peter is not only married, but his wife Elizabeth is the third lead. She has good chemistry with Peter, they have a loving and respectful relationship--anytime going undercover requires that Peter feint interest in another woman, he's deeply mortified, even though Elizabeth is entirely understanding and trusting of him (to the point where she finds it funny more than anything else). She's not a rarely seen afterthought the way, say, Elliot Stabler's wife is.

This got me thinking about fandom OT3s. A lot of them are pretty simple. There's a love triangle? Well, what if all three of them got together? There, problem solved. The Bettie/Veronica/Archie thing. Self-indulgent, but it scratches an itch. I can respect it. Go write Bella Swan being double-teamed by both Team Edward and Team Jacob. What, we're saying this is where the fantasy gets unbelievable?

But there's a weirdly specific variant I wanna talk about. A and B are the two guys the fandom wants to slash together. C is A's female love interest. They're deeply committed to each other and C is too likeable for fandom to want to kick her to the curb. So, they just say that all three are in a relationship, despite B and C simply being good friends with little if any romantic/sexual interest in each other.

Exact same thing happened in Leverage fandom. Elliot and Hardison are da boys and fandom wants to slash them. Hardison and Parker have longstanding sexual tension that eventually becomes a relationship. Parker and Elliot are on good terms, but not really intimate with each other at all.

Nonetheless, fandom insists that the three of them are a love thing to the point where it's even 'acknowledged' by the show (in a wink-wink, plausible deniability sorta way where Elliot continues to date assorted women despite being in a 'relationship'). It's polygamy entirely driven by cope because slashers feel it's bad feminism to kick a girl out of the way of the yaoi sex they really want.

Sociologically, that's fascinating to me. It's like if men consumed a genre of porn where each movie included one male-on-male sex scene, despite that not arousing them at all, just for the sake of equality. Damn, bitch, you're really letting your fantasy life be colonized by Miss Manners?

[hooplecxnt]

I’m sorry if this sounds ignorant and I tell how happy and smitten you all are with Mr B. I just wondered how you cope without the physical closeness and ‘conventional relationship’ stuff that is difficult due to distance and dynamics? E.g. needing someone you love like him to go with you to some difficult family function or needing someone to take care of physically on occasion?

I hope this isn’t rude, love your blog and you seem super sweet.

Thank you, Dear! 💓 And I don't consider this a rude or ignorant question! - A few things spring to mind:

Even though he isn't physically there, he is very omnipresent - He has 24/7 access to my location & camera, so he can check where I am at & what I am doing, any time he wants. (Which helps bridge the distance a lot and makes me feel constantly monitored & watched over.)

Re: Difficult Family Functions

When it comes to braving difficult family functions on my own, his words are what carry me through and make me feel as though I have him right there by my side - His words are the gospels that give me my wings to both triumph & fly.

On some of my worst days, a simple message/check in from him feels like a hand to hold within the dark

Re: To Care For Physically

There isn't a day that goes by where I don't wish that I had his hugs, or that I was there to be able to suck his cock, drink his piss, fetch things for him, etc.... I miss him & the family terribly each moment I am away from them, but- I will steal Daddy's words on this one and say that, "a whole lotta denial makes a little bit of indulgence feel very good." When I'm with him, I cherish and take in those moments even more; I savior each hit, hug, smile, slap, chance to kneel at his feet, and drop of spit like there is no tomorrow.

The distance is definitely still tough, but he is worth every bit of it

(And, since he's a God to me, in a way... we'll never be too far apart, for he is always within my heart.❣️)

These two songs also sum up some of my feelings:

[Mr. B is the one person in this world that I never mind being "blissfully lonely" for ❤️🎵]

[andordean]

Intro Post Is Here

I promised myself I would make an intro post with my fic list when I hit a followers milestone, and lo and behold, the time has come to make good on that promise. 

(Breathe in. You got this, Dor. Ok, here we go.)

Welcome, friends. If you followed me sometime in the last year and a half, here’s a funny story for you: I used to write Witcher fics (a lot even, at one point) (and I pray I will write again, though at the moment brain be words what no speaky English). (But I digress.)

What you can find on my blog: shitposting, sarcasm, salt—and Ciri. A lot of Ciri. (Often tagged as: "brat <3". No reason.) Also, many Ciri pairings. We support most Ciri pairings in this house.

What you can find on my AO3: Also a lot of Ciri in different pairings, or sometimes in multiple pairings, as (a) I am a multishipper and (b) Ciri is bi and can do no wrong and (c) has two hands and a hatred for cages and also (d) poly/open relationships are the new love triangles and we need more of them, actually.

Specifically:

"Blood Ties" verse, aka Queen of Cintra verse (aka mammoth), or a 100k words novel in three parts about what happens if neither witchering nor ruling the empire (nor dying, I guess) fully satisfies our girl's ambitions. (Answer: let’s go and shake up the geopolitical landscape of the post-TW3 Continent, reclaim your throne, piss off Dijkstra in the process, make new allies and enemies both, grow and heal, get what you wanted, find indulgence, and also love. Ships aplenty, including some nobody else thought of. Just saying.)

"Broken Pieces" verse, or what happens if Cahir survives, but somewhat fails to move on (he tries), and Ciri fails to be indifferent (she also tries). (Answer: witchering shenanigans, but also some family reunions, Ceallach being a Smart Cookie, Geralt being the Daddest Dad, Ciri being a brat, but also right, but also needing a reality check and to get her head out of her ass. Spoiler alert: happy/bittersweet ending. It’s Witcher-verse, after all.)

"Splinters" verse, or what happens when the author develops a brainrot. (Answer: modern!AU with the main theme being: everyone is thirsty for Cahir/Eamon’s hands. Banter, pinning, thirst, smut, and more banter. Past that comes back to bite everyone in the ass, heartbreak, and a happy ending. Always a happy ending. And Angouleme being the Best Gremlin.)

“The Ghost of You”, or what happens when Ciri gets Ideas, and tries to use Cahir to get what she wants. (Formerly known as the Cancel WIP. Mind the tags with this one; set during LotL, unhealthy coping mechanisms aplenty, trauma and PTSD galore, leading to the first steps of healing. It’s always, always about healing with these two.)

“Sing To Me In The Dark”, or what happens if Cahir finds himself in Kaer Morhen to help defend it from the Hunt. (Answer: the author wants to know too. Although the author mostly knows, but brain no speaky English, see above.)

“Hunter’s Moon”, or what happened in Beauclair during the hansa stay there, from the point of view of a certain succubus. (Answer: a certain vampire attempting to be a smartass, not always succeeding; smut and banter, and more smut. Also, a heartbreak.)

If you like any of the above and tell me about it, chances are I’ll be making you a birthday gift the following year.

In the meantime, enjoy the shitposting, the salt, the sarcasm—and Ciri.

[summercourtship]

Kyra, I stayed up all night reading your new chapter, i am not even joking when i say that when i saw that it ended i LITERALLY GASPED OUT LOUD!!! The smut was TOP TIER! omg so hot! so many stuff happening!!! Edward smoking was so sexy! also him being like: “You were led astray, I see.” GOT ME BLUSHING FOR NO REASON????!!! Jonathan being a sneaky little bastard as always! it was so funny seeing him try to comfort the reader but also having no clue in what he was doing, like sir you are a psychiatrist! I imagine him reading a book like: “ how to comfort women for dummies”, another thing was him letting his facade slip for a second when he said: “You’re still my assistant, aren’t you? Or are you too busy for that?” I GUESS SOMEONE IS FEELING A BIT NEGLECTED HUH?! AND TO TOP IT ALL BRUCE WAYNE KNOWS SOMETHING IS HAPPENING!!!! THE JIG IS UP PEOPLE!!!!

But being real rn, you have no reason for being nervous, this chapter was AMAZING! Also if you don’t mind me asking, I would love to know what was your inspiration for starting this fic! I saw you were thinking of doing a BTS video i I love that!!!

THANK YOU! There is so much stuff happening and it'll probably stay like that until the end because there's only four chapters left and a lot of stuff to get through!!

Edward smoking: yes. I particularly enjoyed writing the detail of him offering the reader a drag and being disappointed when she refused because he's definitely the type to romanticize his lips touching the same things hers do (little does he know at that moment that she was planning on Fucking Him in like fifteen minutes.) And with him saying "you were led astray", I love him idolizing her so much because he's gonna get so hurt when he finds out she is just a normal person (who is in way over her head)

Jonathan: I think he knows how to comfort someone, but he doesn't want to actually comfort the reader. Because, again, he's feeling neglected and he's trying ten thousand different methods of coping and none of them are working. But it will come to a head, and soon.

Since she confronted the Batman on the roof, Bruce has been aware that the reader isn't telling him everything. Like, she isn't good at lying. But the burner phone going off and her lying about it is definitely ringing more bells in his head and he is realizing he needs to keep a closer eye on her. Wonder how he's gonna do that. :)

Thank you again for your kind words- I'm always scared whenever I update that this will be the chapter you all decide it's actually horrible and I wasted your time lol.

I don't remember exactly what my inspiration for this fic was, although I remember bits and pieces. It was originally just going to be a Bruce Wayne fic and I started writing it after I saw the Batman in March 2022. The first scene in the fic is the only thing I salvaged from that first version of the fic.

And then, months later, I decided to write a fic with Jonathan as a love interest along with Bruce bc I really like love triangles in reader insert fics lol, especially between heroes and villains. It's about the DYNAMICS.

Normally when I come up with my longer fics, it's because I write the fic I want to read- I couldn't find many Jonathan Crane multi-chapter fics and I wanted to fix that.

Edward was always going to be in the fic, but he only became a love interest later when I decided that I can be as self-indulgent in my fic as I want to be lol. He was always gonna be interested in the reader tho, the reader just didn't always reciprocate.

And as a fun little fact: the title for the fic was originally going to be "Stay and Burn" which is taken from the song Deus in Absentia by Ghost (my love). Then I decided to expand on it and make it my own. I like the dichotomy between fire and water, the implication that you made one reckless decision only to be blindsided by a different danger... idk.

Finally, YES when I'm done with this I do want to make a sort of BTS video where I just ramble about writing it. I've been wanting to make videos anyway for my art/shop, so why not add my writing as a topic as well?

[neoarchipelago]

tw for rape and sorta mentions of suicide (just basically saying kys in context ) for those very sensitive or triggered by these!!

but like i went through all the posts i could find and they never said anything bad about non con or dubcon she said rape fics were bad- and the point of her being a “hypocrite” for writing dubcon confuses me as why would someone who didnt support that stuff write it? it doesn’t make sense to me. i understand not liking her point on the kys bit but you guys got really hung up on it and completely missed the point of it about literal rape being romanticized and used as a fetish, not noncon and the likes used as a coping mechanism. it breaks my heart to see especially from people i supported and enjoyed a lot and got me into this community supporting rape. ive dealt with lots of sexual assults and have been raped myself a few times starting from a young age and let me tell you, its horrible. me and my boyfriend do get quite rough at times and do indulge in things like noncon- something that is used to cope and can help- and it is so much different than actually being raped. if you like it rough and dirty trust me girl i completely get it but actually being raped is the most demeaning, violating, and live devastating things that can happen- not to mention the other physical side affects of it. not trying to spread hate, maybe i should be for supporting it, but im more just sad? like seeing a community im so into and my biggest comfort character ( who also has dealt with rape) supporting and defending it all just feels like a betrayal and so debilitating. so many of my safe spaces have been ruined in a physical and metaphysical sense and it just reminds me of the sa when i was a teenager and other boys on my team (i was raped and abused by multiple wrestlers as i was the only girl in the sport in a very large state wide tournament hosted by my school) joking about it and making it not serious not taking me serious and sexualizing the whole situation and thinking i was lucky for a chick. just sickening and heartbreaking to see and the worst throwback thursday ever.

Hi love. First of all, I'm truly sorry of what happened to you. No one should ever have to go through that and you are truly amazingly strong.

Thank you for sharing your point through respect and calm.

I'd like to throw you back to this essay that explains my point of view here. Of course, it's understandable if you don't accept it. I'm not here to convince anyone on this. This is sharing a point of view.

Here, hoping that you fully understand.

This will however be the last time I'll debate on this subject, further comment or anons will simply get a copy paste.

THIS CONTAINS SA , SH AND SEXUAL CONTENT, BE CAREFUL

I- dub-con, non-con and CNC kink in fiction.

A- the place of these themes in fiction and how it separated from reality.

I think the line has to be drawn. A line people seem to forget too easily. Obviously, rape is a horrible thing. This fact has never been refuted in any fics or novels or books. No writer will ever tell you, ‘rape is awesome and soooo romantic’.

Fiction is absolutely fiction. We are aware of it. There's a big difference. This obviously something readers choose to read being aware of fiction. Being aware that the real thing is horrible. Warnings and tags are always there to avoid readers unaware of it.

B- the differences with other themes

One thing I've been asked is what kind of difference writing rape is from writing dub-con or even pedophilia?

On dub-con, the line is blurred. Softer, protagonist may be in a path where the sexual action is wanted but blocked by the mind or pushed to it by the other protagonist, forcing their own need to give in. It is still seen as rape as consent is not fully given. There's not much difference from non-con. Writers usually use this tag to avoid any triggers to people.

For pedophilia, let's see this in a more details. I think we can all agree that all these themes, dub-con, CNC, non con, always involve adults. Whatever it is the kink, or in stories, it’s adults. Adults who are aware of what sex is and what this kink it. Children should never be near any of those themes. It's not about kinks anymore, children don't have kinks.

II- the reality of voicing your opinion on internet

A- SA victims and SH victims, sexual shame

Now there's something we need to talk about. Writing theses themes are used by many as a coming mechanism. SA victims may often use these writings to help the aftermath of these events in their own life.

In the kink itself it's something that obviously causes a lot of shame towards people who are not part of it. But many things need to be said. It's a need for a control of a situation that is dangerous and traumatizing. It's a sign of truth with your partner. Fiction is a way to live that fantasy in full safety as they are clearly aware of the truth of that situation in real life.

Now the thing that has started this whole conversation was the ‘don’t forget to tell rape kink writers to off themselves’.

It is not a small detail. Not at all!

This is where fiction is separated from reality. You are telling a real person to commit a real act that could lead to fatal consequences.

Obviously I think we’re all aware that many people on this website suffer from depression, self harm tendencies and bullying. I do too. Your words matter. Trust me. We’ve seen it with Inquisitor’s death while a live TikTok.

Many other tiktokers who had helped not only spread rumors but bully the creator only realized their mistake once he killed himself.

This is a no turn back situation.

Do you think you have the guts to wake up in the morning, knowing someone killed themselves because they wrote something you were against? That you are the reason they died? Their families are grieving?

You can find an article on the CNC kink here:

-https://www.choosingtherapy.com/consensual-non-consent/

B- respect even through anger

We have established one thing. The internet is a wild, free universe. Anyone can say or write or post whatever they want.

You are free to voice out your opinion, anger amongst these binary and servers. But one thing that is not ok is the way you say it.

A point doesn't need to be full of hate or threats to be said. Especially when serious consequences could be blown by it.

Everyone has their opinion, things they don't like. You are free to avoid tags, not read, block people. Protect yourself first. But attacking isn't protecting yourself. You’re simply causing another kind of harm.

People need to own up to their words and actions.

If you tell someone to kill themselves, it's horrible. It's an actual crime. A full crime.

-

[marzbar20]

haii :3 i have no idea how to work tumblr so i'm very excited

this is my lil intro thing since i've never made an actual post on here before. i only really reblog stuff 😭 (please interact i need more friends)

my name is marz, but on here im mostly using my other names so call me jeff or tord and. i use it/he, (preference for it) and i'm veryyy much taken. i have a lovely partner who i hope never finds my tumblr but if he does then it's fine probably 😭 i'm also pansexual and homoromantic. (if you're confused it basically means i fuck all genders and date non-women).

umm... so like i very emo. i like genuinely almost every genre, including minimal country. i can rock with whatever!! but currently my hyperfixation songs are Daylily by Movements and Crucified / Witch Image by Ghost. i dress in mostly black jeans and band/rick and morty tees and my partners hoodies. i have the 2008 emo sideswept hair. i luv makeup tbh

i'm a stoner hehe i smoke to help with my issues. helps me genuinely function and deal with my misdirected anger so it keeps me a better person. not a nicotine guy tho. i luv my weed and just my weed fr.

i'm auDHD as well as having several mental illnesses. but mostly my symptoms reflect my BPD, PTSD and Autism the most. i have symptoms of illnesses caused by my bpd and autism- for example OCD and depression/anxiety/panic.

i don't have very many PTSD triggers if any.

now the fun part!! if you were wondering what flavor of autism i have, i like to write fanfic :3 i draw sometimes but i'm not as good at that so i stick mostly to writing. honestly if i figure out how to work tumblr better i will start taking requests related to my hyperfixatioms teehehe..

some of my special interests :

- Psychology (i'll pick your brain apart :3)

- Creepypasta

- FNAF (big favorite)

- My Hero Academia (specifically Bakugo)

- Homestuck

- Band :3 (band kid..)

- Melanie Martinez

- Markiplier (big favorite)

- Tim Burton films

- The Walking Dead (Game+Show)

- Vocaloid (Oliver my fav)

- TMNT

current hyperfixations!! this very much may change!!

- Gothic Literature

- My partner :)

- School (nerd)

- Band

it depends on what kin it is, but kins with an aterisk * next to their name are no doubles allowed!!!!! raaahhh!! thank u:3 i will later list some kins that are highly encouraged to interact HEHEHE

current kinlist. this may change due to the fact i havent indulged in many shows or games in ages

- Katsuki Bakugo (HIGHEST) *

- Jeff the Killer (Creepypasta) *

- Gamzee (HS)

- Karkat(HS)

- Killua (HxH)

- L (Death Note)

- Karma (Assassination Classroom)

DNI LIST!!

- proshippers

- people who ship any type of incest/proship/weirdness. :P

- people who like watch and enjoy ybc

- basic homophobia / transphobia / racism

- Bakugo, Jeff the Killer, Gamzee and Karkat kinnies (sorry doubles i am just thebonly one allowed)

- offenderman enjoyers

- people who make porn of teenaged characters. no i will not b writing any mha student fanfics sorry guys. (most villains tho? 😋)

- no weird sides of fandoms. each fandom knows what i mean fr.

- age PLAYERS. the kink way

INTERACT LIST!! PLZ!!

- similar interests

- similar personality style (i know y'all can tell)

- Kirishima, Kaminari, Tavros, Dave, Gon, and Creepypasta kinnies :3

- the less weird part creepypasta fandom

- stoners :3

- age regressors :) (the coping way)

okay that was a lot but i think that's it:) i hope people see this 😭

[trisscar368]

It's actually a pretty common fantasy, for multiple reasons.

1. If someone was raised in a culture that believes certain sexual desires are immoral, then rape fantasy is a mental/moral loophole. Often a normal, vanilla fantasy of having sex with someone because you desire to have sex with them can cross a taboo, so the solution is to come up with a scenario that allows you to indulge in sexual fantasy while maintaining the illusion of purity. "I want, I desire, (I'm horny) but I'm not supposed to be. If someone is forcing me to do it (rape) then I'm still Good."

You'll encounter this in the context of certain religious communities. You'll also see it a lot among women writers, especially if you go back a few decades to periods when owning your own sexuality and sexual desire was something that was still being fought for in secular spaces. And I've also talked with queer people who have mentioned rape fantasy as an early coping mechanism for getting around internalized homophobia. "If someone is forcing me then I'm not actually gay, so I can think about and explore these desires that are a part of me that I'm told I'm not supposed to have."

This ties into why vampires are Like That post Stoker (a sexual being, hypnotic, compelling, violating social boundaries and enticing innocents into desire and pleasure -- it's all about that sexual repression babbyyyy).

2. For some, rape fantasy falls into the category of being desirable. The concept of someone wanting you so much that they can't resist, that they'll break social norms... you can file large elements of how A/B/O and sex pollen tropes work in this category. This one is more generic, but there is also a social truth here in that some people want to feel desirable and have their sexual attractiveness acknowledged in a healthy way (the "girl you look so hot" convo vs catcalling) and society sucks at that. Especially if you're a guy, telling another guy that he looks sexy isn't normal (or safe) in a lot of places.

3. Some people are drawn to the power exchange, which is the only one on this list that is actually getting into what might be considered BDSM elements. In the context of those novels, it's being forced to feel pleasure, being forced to surrender. Which is again, very much vampires.

There is a secret fourth option that relates to darkfic, which is usually not the variety that's popping up in 1980s fantasy novels.

I've always been baffled by the weird fixation that the fantasy genre has on virginity and rape, and I don't mean the 'men who are severely misinformed on the period of history they're adding dragons to' kind, I mean the kind written by women who have multiple children and still seemed confused by where the hymen is. Both the inaccuracies and the whole-genre obsession has always baffled me. I'm only just now realising that the answer might be the same as most obsessions that baffle me. It's a sex thing, isn't it?

Has genre fiction secretly been chock full of BDSM fetishists this whole time and nobody told me?

[mx-tendercrispies]

cigarettes

Peter B. × Reader comfort

reader smokes, peter is getting into this whole father thing & reader lowkey wants a father figure

a/n: this is honestly entirely self indulgent. and someone teach me how to do italics on tumblr pretty please.

“You're way too young to smoke.” You hear a voice from behind you, followed by the flick of a lighter. You turn around to see the weary, sorrowed face of a middle-aged man that has endured a little too much in his usually so quiet life lit up for a moment. You recognise him - it's another Peter, of course. But you specifically recognise him to be the guy that's so close to Miguel, despite how isolated the leader of the spider society seems.

“So if i was old like you, it'd be alright?” Peter laughs along, not minding your mocking tone. It's a peaceful evening atmosphere, the sun almost fully went down behind the tall skyscrapers of Nueva York. It's a quiet scenery; and you've needed quiet. Being a fairly new recruit means you have a lot of catching up to do, and it's wearing you down slowly. You're not exactly proud of resorting to unhealthy coping mechanisms like cigarettes, but unfortunately, it works a little too well. And apparently it brings you good company, too.

“No, no, that's not what I'm saying.” Peter chuckles after taking a drag from his own cigarette. “I just… you have your whole life ahead of you. Quit while you can.” He advises with a now more somber tone. You muster him for a moment, notice how tired he looks, and you can tell this is genuine advice.

“Maybe.” Is all you can reply. Better than telling him you're already addicted. For some reason, thinking about how that could disappoint him scares you, even though he's practically a stranger. But especially when his soft brown eyes examine you, as if to try and analyse you, the desire to be someone he appreciates just grows stronger. Why does his opinion matter so much to you?

He must've noticed that you're a little lost in thought because he asks: “You okay?” “Yeah. I'm fine. Just getting used to the work here and all…”

His eyes practically bore through you while he takes another drag from his cigarette in silence, but he seems to accept your explanation.

“Most new recruits have a hard time adjusting to Miguel's strict schedule. Even those that have been Spiders for ages.” he leans onto the railing, just like you do, but instead of at the city, his eyes are fixed on you. “What I'm trying to say is - you're not alone. And if you need some guidance, well… I was one of the first to join. I've been here for two years. I think I'm plenty qualified to be your mentor.” He offers with a slightly smug smile. It's obvious he's at least a little proud of himself.

You look over to him again, smiling softly. “You don't exactly look like you're doing well, either.” “I had a rough patch, but I'm doing better now. I picked myself up and I fixed what I could.” He replies with a grin, reminiscing about how far he's come. After a little moment, he turns his attention back to you. “But I couldn't have done that all on my own.” His smile fades when he sees you smoking silently, not replying. “I don't know what you're going through, but I don't think you should go through it alone. I know what you're thinking - I'm just a stranger, blah blah blah… Let's ignore that and go grab something to eat from the cafeteria, yeah? I'd really like to get to know you.”

[ao3feed-kiribaku]

Where there is Anger

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/V3v4XaS by JustALilGuyAndItsMyBirthday Bakugou had hoped that UA would be a fresh start, a clean slate where he would finally be unreachable and never have to think about his past again, but unfortunately life apparently had a few more bad hands to deal to him before he could catch a break, and he can’t keep hiding from the past forever. But he can damn well try. OR Yet another recovery fic I may or may not finish Words: 2490, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Categories: Multi Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Bakugou Mitsuki, Bakugou Masaru, Kirishima Eijirou, Kirishima Eijirou's Parents, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Ashido Mina, Yaoyorozu Momo, Todoroki Shouto, Shinsou Hitoshi, Class 1-A (My Hero Academia), Class 1-B (My Hero Academia), Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Jirou Kyoutoku, Yagi Toshinori | All Might Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Ashido Mina & Bakugou Katsuki & Kaminari Denki & Kirishima Eijirou & Sero Hanta, Bakugou Katsuki & Yaoyorozu Momo, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Bakugou Katsuki, Bakugou Katsuki & Shinsou Hitoshi, Bakugou Katsuki/Shinsou Hitoshi, Bakugou Katsuki/Original Male Character(s), Bakugou Katsuki/Original Female Character(s), Bakugou Katsuki & Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki & League of Villains, KiriBaku main ship, Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki & Class 1-A Additional Tags: Past Rape/Non-con, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Hurt Bakugou Katsuki, Bakugou Katsuki-centric, Slow Burn, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Teacher-Student Relationship, Past, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abusive Bakugou Mitsuki, Neglectful Bakugou Masaru, Original Character(s), Suffering, Kidnapping, Implied/Referenced Torture, Self-Indulgent, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Explicit Sexual Content, Not the rape, unhealthy hook-ups, Somewhat song inspired, THERE’S A PLAYLIST read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/V3v4XaS

[cornus27florida]

I am really sorry to just replying but thanks a lot for the answer! I will try to do what you say, gotta start somewhere and indeed first steps are the hardest ;D

Your advice is the similar step as me but plus a dark secret from me (although I say these not to gathering pity but just telling as forwarding what's proffesionals said to me) because I am indeed working on huge multichapters series (the crazy tips from you, actually I done but ofc in progress) and that has so many mistakes but I try to fix 'em and ofc to love it

Because writing is one of the ways of me to coping from many self-problems especially in the mental side as in gets the infamous "middle life crisis" and I realize I am fucked up

...I used to bottling things up, realizing that it's make me so emotional and has negative moods, to the point of worse

the list is never ending but basically I am loving Adrien which is similar looking with Frederick as the main character of CPC which is series that I am working on in mega project - their character personalization is so damn relatable it's hurt and I am sometime crying but unknown what to do at those time

Long Story Short, after even hospitalized for a month - the doctors as in therapists suggest to me to STOP bottling things up and let it out as in gives more output...

I am used so scared as well like to gaining more "validations" through kudos and comments in my fanfic at AO3 but because my taste is kinda uncommon make me unpopular

Although after self-motivated once let out from hospital and gets acquinted with many writers in various community...

I learn to not care about "numbers" and just writing for myself, my self-indulgence of happiness that I deserve by correlating myself with many characters I use to write FF for ///end of the kinda like essay? once again thanks a lot! You are inspiring me so much espc through things that u reblog and your works (so OP as can do both fanart and fanfic) !!!

If you wanna take a look here the links: ><

A) My AO3 account, same name as my user in Tumblr but my discord name is different / btw is possible to join ur server?

B) The 'mega-project' series that I am working on in the present time, please wish me luck to love this more >w<

Hello! I am curious about this as an amateur of fanfic writer that struggling to do multi-chaptered one so please senpai ><

If you could go back in time and tell your younger writer self something, what would it be?

Like message to 'amateur' writers that has many 'problems'

i would tell my younger self to keep writing even when it's hard. i went 2 years without writing a single thing because it became too hard

also you dont have to follow any certain structure. just write in a way that's fun for you

i wouldnt recommend jumping straight into a huge multi-chaptered fic like I did but honestly I learned a LOT along the way by doing that, and you can see the improvement with each chapter, so...

just do whatever makes writing most fun for you! and don't worry about 'problems' - every writer makes mistakes but the more you write, the better you'll get. you gotta start somewhere!