#this is very self indulgent but i had to share it 💗

[yuujispinkhair]

Going insane at the thought of being on vacation with modern!boyfie Sukuna, and he takes you to a nice restaurant for dinner, making sure that you have a table for two in a cozy corner, all romantic with candlelight and wine. He’s holding hands with you on the table, playing with your fingers while chatting with you. And he’s so flirty and sweet, giving you butterflies with the charming things he says and the way he grins and looks at you with so much love in his eyes. The intimidating bad boy all tame and sweet just for you. From time to time he even brings your hand to his lips and kisses it while looking deeply in your eyes, in a way that tells you without words that Sukuna is truly yours. Just like you are his.

You walk back to your hotel hand in hand. And you lean against Sukuna, swooning at how tall and strong he is. Swooning at how nice it is to be here with him. How sweet it is to talk to him and laugh with him. And it hits you suddenly how close Sukuna and you are. How intimate it feels to be on vacation just the two of you, spending time together away from your everyday lives. Sukuna’s large hand tightens around yours, and you know without looking, that he is smiling right now, probably thinking the same.

[gghostwriter]

One Single Thread of Gold

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Penelope tries to solve a Spencer Reid riddle and the one time she (and the team) meet the reason behind all the changes Trope: Fluff! Just fluff and team banter! w.c: 4.0k a/n: For some reason, my earlier post on this disappeared dunno why. But this is a very self indulgent fic as reader’s background is basically based on the industry I work in. I had a lot of fun writing the team banter and I hope you enjoy it too! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗

The first clue presented itself on a dull Wednesday night as the team, minus Hotch and Rossi, were leaving the bullpen after a full day of pushing papers. Penelope in all of her sunshine and colorful glory was buzzing about these accessories that she once spotted on a storefront window.

“I saw a pair of earrings and a matching necklace that would look so good with that top you bought the other day, JJ. You know, the blue one with those soft sleeves—they would look great with it. It’s tres boho chic.”

JJ smiled, opening her mouth to reply, but Spencer beat her to it.

“Did you know that boho chic was actually a response to political and social movements?”

“Wait, what?” Emily interjected.

He took her disbelief as a sign to continue on. “Yeah, yeah. There’s an article written about it in Vogue—softness and femininity historically appears in moments of political stress and war. Just like in the 70s with the hippie and anti-war movement that defined their style as a generation.”

They all piled into the elevator and turned to face the boy genius like he grew another head. For all they knew, this could be a clone and a very bad one at that. The Spencer Reid that they knew had absolutely no interest in the realms of fashion.

Penelope was the first to break the silence. “Vogue?”

“Kid, what gives? Just the other time, you didn’t know how many shoes a woman owns and now you’re some kind of expert?” Derek asked with both eyebrows raised.

“Did not knowing activate some kind of button that made you want to read about it?” Emily added on, feeling like she was in some kind of TV prank show.

“What?” Spencer licked his lips, nervous with all the attention on him. He felt like he was about to slip something up that he had been keeping to himself for a while now. A hidden precious gem that was you. “I—I like to read.” A believable excuse except his voice went up an octave, giving him away.

The three women shared a look.

“But you read academic textbooks and classic literature,” JJ stated.

Penelope added on. “Not fashion magazines.”

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I don’t discriminate when it comes to reading. If it’s interesting—” he shifted his weight one side to another, thinking that the ride down on the elevator seemed to be taking slower than usual. “—I’ll read it.”

Penelope narrowed her eyes. She was no profiler but she could smell a lie from a mile away way. That wasn’t the whole truth. Dr. Spencer Reid was hiding something.

“Okay, see you tomorrow!” he squeaked out as he ran out of the elevator once it hit the lobby.

She turned to the three profilers, stunned with the boy genius’ erratic behavior. “Huh, did anybody else get the feeling that Spencer was hiding something?”

“Maybe, but the kid does read a lot. Maybe he just ran out of books.” Morgan shrugged.

The other two profilers tilted their heads and slowly nodded in agreement. It wasn’t far off on something Spencer would do. He did once pick up a pamphlet in the airport to read as mentioned before to her by Derek, granted it was for a case but still, Penelope couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else.

So when she arrived home that very same night, she propped up her laptop and got to digging. Boy Genius was hiding something big and Little Miss Oracle of Quantico can find anything with her tech skills. She’ll get to the bottom of this mystery, once and for all.

———

Spencer was glad to be coming home to your presence. Having spied the lights still on from the outside of the apartment, he took the steps two at a time, excited to see his 2nd favorite person after his mother—you.

“Spence?” You called out, having heard the mahogany front door open. “Is that you, baby?”

“Hey, love. I missed you,” he deposited his satchel to the nearby sofa and ran to give you a hug.

You burrowed yourself into his arms. All the muscles in your body relaxing as you caught a whiff of his cedar wood perfume—the same scent you’ve gifted to him during the early stages of dating. “I missed you too. How was your day?”

“Better now with you,” his words coming out muffled as he refused to detach himself from the embrace. “Actually, I almost slipped up today.”

You extricated from his arms to give him an inquisitive look. The slight scrunch on your nose and raised brows made his heart flutter. How expressive, free, and trusting you were. It reminded him of your first encounter. How you teasingly asked him if he was a serial killer when he offered you a ride home in the pouring rain and how you easily accepted regardless.

“Yeah? Did any of them catch on?” you probed as you pulled him by his belt loops to the direction of the bedroom.

He laughed, finding your aggression cute. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Maybe we should schedule dinner with them sometime,” you coyly suggested as you slowly started to unravel his tie. “I mean, we’ve been together for over a year now and I have moved into your apartment, under the guise of watering your plants while you’re away. Which is a lie, by the way—”

“I have plants!” he protested. His hands divesting you out of his sweater, bringing to view his favorite silk set in deep purple that accentuated your skin and the blush on your cheeks.

“—that I brought over, Spence,” you quipped back. “But don’t worry, I won’t spill how the intelligent FBI agent fooled naive me into moving in with him.”

There was a glint in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. “Love, I wouldn’t exactly call you naive—” his voice going an octave lower. “—not when you’re looking at me with those tempting eyes of yours.”

Giggling, you leaned in for a kiss, one that he quickly took over. His calloused dominant hand wrapped around the back of your neck, effectively caging you in while his other cradled your cheek—a stark contrast to the other. Kissing Spencer had always felt like a religious experience that you never want to part from.

Reluctantly pulling away, you caught glimpse of his need for you. His hazel eyes now dark as ink, nostrils slightly flared, teeth sinking into his lower lip, and his dominant hand dug into the fleshy nape of your neck. It made you feel desirable, like the goddess that he would call you when he’s on his knees tasting nectar from the source.

The discussion of inviting the team out for dinner was long forgotten. No other words were spoken as you pushed him on the bed—only the cries of his and your name and moans of ‘yes’ echoed well into the night.

***

The second clue was uncovered when Spencer walked into the cold windy bullpen with new black cardigan adorning his lithe body. It was non-descriptive to the untrained eye but for fashion enthusiast Penelope Garcia, she knew what those four white lines on the sleeve meant—luxury label and priced well above their pay grade.

She narrowed her eyes. The Spencer she knew wouldn’t dare spend his salary on anything besides limited first edition books. Something was truly up and she planned to get to the bottom of it as her initial online search turned up nothing.

“Reid, that’s a really nice sweater,” she complimented, throwing in her bait.

He smiled. The thought of who gave it to him warmed his heart. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks Garcia.”

Her sparkly pink kitten heels clacking on the floor as she came closer. “Can I see it?” she innocently asked.

The request threw Spencer off the loop but thought nothing of it as he shrugged and handed it to her—still warm from body temperature.

Her squeals caught the attention of the other profilers filling into the office.

“What is it, baby girl?” Morgan deposited his bag on the table and stationed himself beside her. “It’s Reid’s new sweater. Are you seeing something I’m not seeing?”

Garcia rolled her eyes. This was why females are considered more observant that their sex counterpart. Her chocolate thunder was a profiler but how could he not notice what she was deducing?

“Huh,” Emily surmised. “Based on the fibers, it’s definitely not polyester. Possibly a 100% wool, what do you think, JJ?”

“It says here on the tag—100% virgin wool,” she read out loud. “That makes it very expensive, right Garcia?”

The colorful tech analyst smiled. Her girls could never let her down. “Right you are, girlfriends! But it’s not only that, this—” pointing at the four stripes on the sleeve. “—this is a signature Thom Browne detail. Their prices go up to at least 600 dollars—” they all turned to Reid who seemed clearly agitated. “—now why does our boy wonder have a piece that could buy at most five cute heels?”

With his vast intellect, he couldn’t think of a way to weasel out of this impromptu interrogation. He couldn’t very well say that it was a gift now could he? If he did, that would lead to another hard hitting question ‘from who?’ He raked his hand through his curly hair, taking the same path as yours did just earlier as you gave him a kiss goodbye.

When you gifted him the cardigan from your last New York business trip, he really thought nothing of its material equivalence, besides feeling grateful and loved. It was proof that you paid attention to even the littlest details about him.

“Hey Spence, I got you something,” you looked up at him with sparkling eyes. The first thing you had done when you got home was run into his arms. A simple act that healed his aching heart from missing it’s other half.

You reached into your luggage, enthusiastically pulling out the black clothing wrapped in tissue paper like some magician pulling out a rabbit from a hat. “Here you go!”

“A new sweater!” He exclaimed.

You rocked on your heels, looking bashful as you explained the reasoning behind it. “I noticed you fidgeting when you wore the cardigan JJ gifted you last Christmas, the polyester fibers used on it must have been really itchy so I got you a new one—” your eyes widened at how your explanation could be taken the wrong way. “—not that her gift wasn’t great! No, it was very cute! It’s just—I want you to be comfortable and protected during your cases in cold states. Polyester is a good insulator of heat but wool is still the best.”

He loved how unabashed you rambled about your interests. That was one of the first things he piqued his notice. How you liked to share your knowledge about the fashion industry that you work for but never coming across as stuck up or snobby, you just genuinely wanted to educate anyone who had a wrong perception of the billion dollar commerce. Admittedly, he was one of them but hearing you rave about it’s nitty-gritty details and socio-economic movements changed his mind. It also helped that a beautiful and intelligent woman, such as yourself, was educating him.

He pulled you in for a kiss, stopping all the worries that ran through your head. “I love it. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing at all, baby. I like taking care of you. Just like how you take care of me,” you reasoned. “Plus I got it on sale courtesy of the magazine connections.”

A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie. It was Penelope with an eyebrow raised at the subtle smile that graced his face while he replayed the moment in his head.

“Okay,” Morgan drawled. “What’s got you smiling, Pretty boy?”

“Nothing,” he squeaked out, turning to see Hotch make his way across the office. Spencer hurriedly collected his things and started to move even before their unit chief could call their attention.

“We have a case,” Hotch announced.

The remaining BAU members all looked at each other, silently communicating about Reid’s irregular demeanor, before piling into the conference room for another grueling scene of murder.

“He’s been acting weird,” Garcia rushed out. “Definitely hiding something. What do you think, Em?”

Emily nodded. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“A girl?” JJ guessed.

“Yes, must be a special one for him to keep secret for so long,” Garcia surmised. “Do you think he’ll hate it if I go further digging around to find out who she is?”

“Further?” Emily clarified.

JJ laughed. “Probably, let’s wait for him to volunteer the information. Okay, Garcia?”

She sighed, shoulders drooping, before nodding in agreement.

***

The third clue was quite literally handed to Penelope Garcia on the jet after a case when she accompanied the team.

“Cold Alaska is so not good for my skin,” she grumbled as she rummaged her bottomless bag for her favorite hand cream. “I love going with you all on trips rather than being stuck in my own tech cave but the weather wasn’t it.”

Morgan chuckled. “Aw c’mon baby girl, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy our time together?”

“You, my sculpted hunk, and the fireplace were the highlight,” Penelope turned to the other female profilers. “My beauties, do any of you have lotion? I think I lost mine.”

Before JJ or Emily could even utter a word, a tube made its way to her lap courtesy of her seat mate, Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Reid, since when do you carry lotion?” Emily inquired.

He shrugged. “Hand cream has it’s benefits besides from moisturizing the skin, it also provides an additional layer of protection. Depending on it’s properties, it can also repair and undo damage.”

The females all shared a look. This was another unexplainable behavior from their resident genius.

“We know that,” JJ stated. “We just thought you didn’t.”

His brows furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, besides from the fact that you’ve never shown interest about skincare before, isn’t it a stereotype for men not to know? Unless—” Emily slyly smiled and nodded at Garcia to continue.

“Unless you have a girlfriend that we don’t know about,” Garcia bounced on her seat.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Spencer’s eyes widened in alarm. He didn’t realize he was walking into a trap before it was too late. “What makes you say that?”

They laughed.

JJ started. “Besides from you suddenly being knowledgeable in fashion—“

“—or having a pricey sweater you’d never buy for yourself—” Emily added on.

“Or, or—“ Garcia reached out to touch his hand. Which made Spencer react with a high pitched call of her name. “—having a shea butter lotion with rough hands!” She waved the tube up in the air. “Plus, this is half empty. So either it’s not working which I doubt since this is a good brand or you keep this in your bag for a special someone to use!”

Derek chuckled. “Baby girl, you could be a profiler at this point.”

“Oh tell me something I don’t know,” she quipped back. “So Reid, want to tell us the truth?”

He sighed, finding no escape. “Yes, yes I have a girlfriend.”

The girls all shrieked with laughter and their own corresponding questions of who is she? How did you meet? How long has this been going on? What does she do for a living? Is she pretty? Oh I bet she is!

“Looks like that cat is out of the bag,” Rossi nonchalantly stated.

Four sets of eyes turned to look at one of the BAU founders. “Rossi, you knew about this and didn’t tell me?” Garcia gasped, a hand to her chest at the thought of betrayal.

He laughed. “I caught them on a dinner date once and our boy wonder over here—“ nodded in Reid’s direction. “—begged me not to out him yet, said he wanted to be the one to tell the team the news but that was like what, six months ago?”

“Six months ago?” Emily repeated.

“Wait, wait. Hotch, don’t tell me you also knew?” Morgan asked.

The unit chief smiled. “She was added to Reid’s emergency contact last February.”

“February? That’s almost a year ago!” JJ sputtered out.

The tech analyst turned to glare at the youngest member of the BAU. “Reid, you better start spilling all the details or so help me, I will stalk all your digital footprint when we land until I find out who she is, where she lives, and what her deepest darkest secret is.”

“What about hearing it all from her, instead?” He rubbed the back of his neck. The secrecy had gone on for so long and there was no time like the present to introduce his chosen family to his chosen partner—hopefully until the end of time. “She wants to treat you all out for dinner tonight.”

All four nodded vigorously as they watched him pull out his phone and send a quick text to which you readily replied and agreed to.

“My man,” Derek sighed. “Can’t believe you got a girlfriend without me being your wingman.”

“Answer me at least this, is she pretty and does she make you happy?” Garcia asked. No matter how nosey she may be, she only wanted the best for Spencer and if the recent lightness and smiles were all caused by his mystery girlfriend, she already approved.

“The prettiest,” Spencer gushed out. “She’s my own personal sunshine.”

The three girls melted into their seats. Their youngest was all grown up waxing prose over his lover.

“She makes you sappy too,” Derek teased.

***

[EXTRA - When the mystery was uncovered]

Spencer had never felt any more nervous that this moment as he, with the rest of the team minus Hotch and Rossi, wait for your arrival. He sat with his back to the restaurant entrance and his cardigan laying on the empty seat beside him as a reservation mark. His eyes had been going back and forth to his idle phone and to the conversation the team was having.

Morgan noted his state of distress and chuckled. “You okay there, lover boy? She’s still coming right, your mystery girlfriend?”

“Yeah, yeah. She said she was on her way 9 minutes and 24 seconds ago and based on the route and traffic, she should have been here 45 seconds earlier. Just worried that something might have happened.”

Penelope leaned in, picking on her bubblegum pink choice of drink as she did. “You know, if you just told me her name I could have tracked every movement by now and you wouldn’t be sitting here worrying.”

“What—no Garcia, I don’t want her tracked plus she didn’t want you to know everything about her even before meeting her,” his voice going up an octave in your defense.

She shrugged. “I’m just saying. I mean we don’t know a single thing about her—”

“We do know she exists and you’ve been together for almost a year now,” Emily interjected.

“Actually, it’s been more than year—one year and 124 days to be exact.”

“Buttercup, all I’m saying is we don’t even know how she looks—” Garcia gasped, having spotted a passerby on the window and what she was wearing. “Oh my gosh, that maroon coat is to die for and that textured leather bag—I wonder if I could track her down and ask where she got it.”

“Oh she’s pretty,” JJ noted.

Derek smirked. “Baby girl, tell me if you plan to ask her ‘cause I wouldn’t mind asking for her number.”

The tech analyst’s eyes further widened as she noted the attractive woman going inside the restaurant.

“You weren’t kidding about that coat, Garcia, it looks really nice,” JJ appraised.

Emily squinted her eyes, taking note of the garment in question. “It looks high quality, probably vintage and—is she going near us?”

“Oh gods, she is! Act natural, act natural!” Penelope chanted as she repeatedly slapped Derek’s arm.

The stranger stopped behind Spencer. “Hey handsome,” your melodic voice was a siren that called to his every being. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Penelope’s jaw dropped as she took in Derek’s flustered reaction.

“Me?” He pointed at himself, getting picked up in such a public setting was new even for him—the ladies man of the BAU.

You laughed. “Well, you too but I was more of talking to this lover of mine—“ you bent down, kissing your boyfriend’s cheek. “Hey, Spence.”

A series of gasps were heard all around the table.

The youngest stood up and turned to give you a soft kiss on the lips. “Hey, Y/N. I was starting to get worried.”

“I missed the train, sorry I forgot to send an update,” you explained as he helped you into your seat.

Promptly seating back down, he angled his body to yours—all attention on you as if you were the only one in the room. And in a way you were, with how molten his doe eyes stared, alternating between yours and your painted lips that begged to be kissed.

He always felt breathless when you were near. It was as if he found his very own Aphrodite to worship here on earth. Spencer was no believer of fates or destiny but he would pray and light a candle if he needed to, just to keep you his. Your intelligent mind complimenting his, your outgoing personality that draws anyone in, and your face that could launch a thousand ships.

Those eyes that could read the deepest crevices of his fiber of being. Those cheeks that begged to be caressed by his calloused hands. Those soft lips that deserved to be kissed and devoured until you, in turn, were as breathless as he was. He suddenly wished you both were anywhere else but here—specifically in the confines of the apartment where he was free to express his love, devotion, and adoration until you scream his name and beg him to stop. His hand, having found it’s way to your thigh, squeezed the flesh three times—communicating his promise to have your hair laid around you like a halo as you lay under him, bare and writhing with need.

The blonde on the other end of the table cleared her throat, cutting through the tension.

“Okay, Spence,” she smiled. “Mind introducing us to your girlfriend?”

He brought your hand to his lips, leaving a series of sweet kisses on your knuckle. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is the rest of the team. Morgan—“ he gestured to each one. “Emily, JJ, and Garcia.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you!” You exclaimed. “So sorry we’re only meeting now. We wanted to stay in our little bubble for as long as we could plus this handsome FBI agent—” you nudged Spencer’s shoulder. “—wanted to keep me to himself. But where’s Aaron and Dave?”

Emily whispered under her breath. “Aaron? Dave?”

“They had prior commitments, love. They did send their regards and Rossi wants to invite you to the next gathering at his mansion,” Spencer explained.

“Love?” Penelope squeaked out. This was really starting to feel like Twilight zone for the team members.

You nodded. “I’ll definitely plot it on my calendar. Now, I heard you had some questions for me?”

“How’d you two meet?” JJ asked.

“When was the first date?” Emily inquired.

Penelope brought out a pen and paper. “What’s you social security number?”

Derek snorted at that. “Do you have any other siblings?”

Spencer’s eyebrows raised further and further up with each question while your shoulders shook with laughter.

“She has all the time in the world to get to know each of you,” Spencer laid out. “No need to make it sound like an interrogation.” He was wishing to keep you forever, if you’d let him.

You smiled as you caressed his cheek, having caught on to the veiled meaning behind his words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[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.

[thehighladywrites]

being elain archeron’s gf

summary: headcanons for being her gf💗💗

warnings: fluff, nsfw

amara’s note: this is for you elain lovers 💗💗 also this was very self indulgent👀

- You met Elain through Cassian. You were his second in command and was assisting him and the inner circle during the war

- There you and Elain met and hit it off instantly.

- People surrounding you noticed the small, sweet gestures exchanged between you and Elain, leading them to root for your connection.

- Both of you were afraid of taking your friendship further because you didn’t want to risk the beautiful friendship between you. But please, you had been in love since day one.

- Eventually, Elain had enough and asked you out on a date to which you say yes.

- You have regular date nights where you do everything from stargazing to going on little trips to other courts.

- Your favorite gift from her is the necklace she made you out of your mother’s old jewelry.

- Her favorite gift from you is when you arranged with Cassian, Feyre and Rhys to explore The Continent and the other courts with her a summer. You were gone for around four months having a blast. It eventually becomes your annually scheduled trip.

- Elain is extremely clingy and wants to stay near you all the time which you love. Being Cassian’s second in command isn’t easy and there is hard days where you have to fight back tears at the mere thought of going back to Elain’s arms.

- Cassian often notices when you’re in distress and let’s you leave early almost all the time.

- You just come home and wordlessly collapse in her arms, letting out everything today while she strokes your hair and rests your head on her chest. After you’re done venting, she undresses you and cuddles you to sleep

- Elain always knows when you just want to vent and when you need advice and want a solution to your problems. She’s incredibly attentive to you.

- You also help her with her powers, researching every book and visiting every city with a smidge of information that could help her.

- You both trust each other very deeply and have extreme faith in your relationship.

- I just know you have a secret language/code/moves you use in order to signal the other. Kinda like queen elizabeth using her handbags to send signals to her staff. So you both are able to talk without anyone else knowing anything about it.

- Let’s talk sleeping.

- You both share a room and a bed. It is all decorated by Elain since she has particular materials she can’t stand. She is in charge of decoration and you build her whatever she wants, ugh that is such a dream

- When sleeping, you other sleep completely naked, skin to skin for comfort. I’m talking tita smushed together, legs thrown over the others, practically sharing air. Or you both sleep in breezy nightgowns. You basically sleep on one pillow bc you wanna be super close. If you could, you’d be in each others skin.

- She LIVESSSS for nail scratches. Feeling your nails on her scalp knocks her out cold 🥶 This pretty girl also likes when you drag your nails on her arm and back.

NSFW

- elain is the dominant one. I just fucking KNOW it, it’s a hill i will die on

- I know she has a freaky little side she only shows you.

- No one else has seen this side of her and they never will.

- She’s all cutesy and kind to others while degrading, praising and fucking you stupid.

- she has a major mommy kink, aka you call her mommy. I KNOW IT

- IT’S ALWAYS THE SEEMINGLY INNOCENT AND QUIET ONESSSS

- She eats pussy like a pro, like she gets in there and has you cumming so quickly it’s crazy

- I know she has a strap that u sit on all the time

- Oh to be stupidly fucked by her

- A bit fluffier, she lovessss resting on your titties while you stroke her hair. She finds it super soothing and can sleep instantly. You often do it after she uses her powers and gets a headache

- you share clothes and everything together. Basically twins. But since you’re the generals second in command, you’re a bit more muscular then her which she looooves.

- Public pda isn’t very graphic. A few quick kisses is standard. Oh, and you always hold hands SO CUTE AHHH

- You both get very easily jealous bc both of you are drop dead gorgeous, like absolute stunners so you guys get hit on a lot.

- That is when your possessive side comes out👀 pulling her into your lap and kissing her neck for everyone to see or she comes up from behind and puts her hands around your waist, dragging your back to her chest to mark her territory and she doesn’t let go

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

'Ruined' domesticity - e.m. x gn!reader ft. Uncle Wayne (dad💗)

Summary: You and Eddie are both cuddling in bed after a long day full of all the usual bullshit and just as you reach your threshold consciousness, Uncle Wayne comes home from work and you 'ruin' the moment by launching out of bed to give him a hug. Uncle Wayne would later call it a 'flying tackle', but you won't care. All you ever want is the Munsons home together with you, and they're here. This is just another favourite part of your day, but it always happens right at the end... as Uncle Wayne comes home, you and Eddie come home to yourselves. Home is where the heart is.

A/N: Inspired by a conversation @thefreak0fhawkinshigh and I have had a few times. I couldn't get this little daydream out of my head. If you spot the LOTR reference, I'm giving you a forehead kissie.💗This is self-indulgent as all hell, I just wanna attack Uncle Wayne in a hug and call him dad and feel him hug me back. I just want to be loved by a parent since my own do not care.

TW; this is just fluff but in case it's triggering to anyone, there's swearing in the narrative, Eddie is a squeezer and I describe his hugs as being held by a boa constrictor (positive, affectionate, I adore snakes and Eddie), mentions of unspecified stresses in your lives, reader calls Uncle Wayne 'dad'; there is no familial connection but he's a definitive paternal figure to Y/N, mentions of reader's parents not taking good care of them so Uncle Wayne is very much their father figure and fulfils the role perfectly because of course he does!😭🥺

Gender neutral reader & no coded language.

People who wanted to be tagged: @ali-r3n @jslittlebirdie

Word count: 2, 080.

Finally, finally, you were exactly where you had wanted to be even before you had dragged yourself out of bed this morning.

Wrapped up in Eddie Munson's arms, and he in yours.

Limbs tangled together, heads sharing the same pillow, your arms around one another so tightly that you could feel his heart pounding against the safety of his ribcage and fluttering against your own. You could feel your own heart racing, too, your blood singing in your ears even as you laid there waiting for Morpheus to embrace you.

The 'you' was singular but it included you and Eddie, for nowhere would either of you go where the other couldn't follow.

Eddie hummed contentedly as you pushed your body into his, curling your arms tighter around his shoulders as you nuzzled the cool tip of your nose into the crook of his neck.

"Love you so much, Eddie," you mumbled, carelessly pressing kisses to whatever part of him was nearest, "don't know what I'd do without you."

Eddie had a feeling that you had more to say, so he squeezed you even tighter into him, until not even a sheet of paper could have been slid between your bodies, and awkwardly moved so that he could kiss the top of your head. "I love you too, sweetheart." No matter whether you were mid-intense discussion or half asleep, you and Eddie always said those few words back to each other. Even if such a 'rule' hadn't already been in the Munson Doctrine, you would have made it an addition; Eddie knowing how important he was to you was always a top priority. The thought of Eddie not knowing how loved he was made you feel genuinely sick.

"I just miss you all the time," you sighed, "even when you're right here." You squeezed Eddie and he playfully groaned, pretending to be in pain from the strength of your grip. "Want you around all the time. More I have, the more I want of you. Don't wanna let go."

"Whoa, hey," Eddie grinned a megawatt grin which left your heart aching, giddy was he to know just how loved he was by you, his eyes soft with all the love in the world because he never thought he'd ever have this with anyone, let alone with you, "you don't have to miss me, okay? I promise. I'm right here, sweetheart." He tightened his arms around you again until you felt, for a second, like you were being held by a boa constrictor (and you loved it when Eddie held you like that). It was a silent reciprocation of everything you had just shared, and a mutual need to have you as close to him as possible. In turn, you pressed kisses where you could reach. With you and Eddie, the more affection which was shared, the more the love grew. Your hearts were so big anyway but they were limitless and timeless when it came to each other.

You could never get enough of Eddie; your heart squeezed so much that it made your chest physically ache with the force of all the love you held for him. You both laid there, wrapped up in one another's embrace and not willing to let go for even a second. Little more was said as the both of you wound down for the night. Just holding each other, breathing and thinking and finally finding peace in one another's company after yet another crazy day full of too much to do and little time to do it in, mixed up with all the usual bullshit which life liked to throw at you like you weren't already busy enough.

You and Eddie were creeping closer and closer to your respective threshold consciousness, but just as you allowed yourself to properly settle down with the intention to sleep, you heard the roar of a van coming down through the trailer park, tyres crunching on gravel, and then the sound of a car door opening and closing. Boots bit down on gravel and then concrete, and you froze as you realised that the steps the feet were ascending were the ones outside the trailer. Which meant only one thing:

Uncle Wayne was home.

There was the familiar jangle of keys and before you even realised what was happening, your body was wriggling out of bed. Now that Uncle Wayne was home, there was no way you would relax enough to fall asleep without being able to say hello and give him a proper hug.

"Mm?" Eddie sleepily shuffled around, his hands patting around for you. "Wassit?" It would have been enough to make you get back into bed at any other time, but this was Uncle Wayne. You could cuddle Eddie any time you wanted, but Uncle Wayne was only around for limited hours every day and you always made a point to seize every opportunity for a hug that you could. He was more of a father to you than either of your parents had ever been, and he had only been too honoured the first time you had told him. He was used to you greeting him excitedly and always with some sense of urgency. You had been waiting for this moment all night and now he was here.

"Dad!" You hissed, shaking Eddie gently, "dad's home!" you were desperately dodging Eddie's grabby hands as you tried to untangle yourself from the hot bedsheets which you and Eddie had been sharing for several hours. Finally, you got yourself free, hopping awkwardly on one foot to make sure that you didn't trip over the sheets wrapped around your toes. You moved much faster than your sleep-heavy mind could comprehend as you were already in the hallway by the time your mind told you that your limbs were cold from being in bed for so long. "Dad's home dad's home dad's home!!!!" Your words quickly became nonsensical as your excitement heightened and you ran down the hall, just catching a blur of red and blue flannel closing the front door behind him, a hand deftly locking it, before you launched yourself at it. "Dad!!!"

Uncle Wayne was very used to being attacked when he came home from work. Anyone who knew him, though no one knew him better than you and Eddie, knew that he adored being attacked when he came home. It meant that he was home, that he was safe, that he was loved. Eddie had been throwing himself out of trees and vans and into his Uncle's arms for as long as he could remember, but now you did the same thing... it had been just over a year since you had begun to date Eddie and you were well and truly a Munson now. Honourary, at least. But still... a Munson.

And that meant that you were 'allowed' (encouraged) to indulge in the luxury of doing what Eddie liked to do every morning before school after setting up the trailer so that his dad could reheat dinner, shower and then collapse into the bed Eddie unfolded and set up for him - throw yourself at Uncle Wayne in a hug. But more than that, oh, more than that... you would be caught, held tightly, and feel yourself coming home just like Eddie did, when he did the same.

If anyone other than a Munson tried to do to Uncle Wayne what you and Eddie loved doing, then woe betide them. Being loved by a Munson as a Munson came with a different set of rules, a different way of expressing and sharing love. The only exception to that may well have been Dustin... everyone loved Dustin, and for good reason. He, too, could score an Uncle Wayne hug, but he would not have been allowed a moment of flight beforehand, unlike you and Eddie.

Uncle Wayne's arms were already open for you; he had heard you almost yell Eddie out of his threshold consciousness and then bound down the hallway, through the living room, and then -

home.

Uncle Wayne grunted, a gruff oof as you collided with him in that red and blue flannel you loved so well. He didn't stumble, he didn't falter. No, he merely adjusted his feet, caught you in his arms, and held on tight. "Well, it ain't a proper homecoming 'less someone throws themselves at me." Uncle Wayne's greeting was saturated with laughter, his ocean blues deeply creased at the edges and alight with tender affection. He squeezed you in his arms and you nuzzled in, smiling to yourself as your body took a natural deep breath of its own accord. "Hey there, darlin'," Uncle Wayne ducked his head down to press a kiss to the top of your head; it was all he could see of you. You moved your arms so that instead of being over the top of his flannel, you moved them down and then under his flannel, where it was warmer and closer to your dad. "Take it you missed me?"

"Even when you're here." You squeezed Uncle Wayne around the middle, letting yourself sink into the hug with the man who was more of a father to you than either of your parents had ever been combined. You didn't want to let go but you knew that you would have to eventually. "How was work?"

"Miss you too, darlin'. You and our Eddie." Uncle Wayne sighed between greeting you and answering your question; the exhaustion in his voice made your breath get stuck in your throat. "Oh, same old, y'know." You had the feeling that Uncle Wayne was going to elaborate a little, but before he did, there was a loud and overdramatic sigh from behind you. You gave Uncle Wayne one final big squeeze before you stepped away from him. You stayed close, though, and waited to see if your Eddie would join you in greeting his dad.

"Would you quit stealin' Y/N from me, man?" Eddie's words were harsh, but his tone was soaked with barely restrained laughter as he bounded across the trailer. He skidded to a stop in front of his dad, thought better of it and then jumped at Uncle Wayne, throwing his arms around his dad's shoulders as he pulled himself in.

Uncle Wayne chuckled. "I did no such thing! Y/N attacked me!" He held onto Eddie like if he let go, then Eddie would slip through his fingers like the sands of time. "I ain't gonna complain about that, you know I ain't." Just like with you, Uncle Wayne let himself both sink into his hug with Eddie as well as be the strong wall for Eddie to melt into. The hug between the Munson men went on for longer than the hug you had with Uncle Wayne, but that was okay - you could have a hug from him any time you wanted, all you had to do was ask. And sometimes, you didn't even have to ask; just one look at you, when you were in a certain mood, and Uncle Wayne knew that you needed to be sandwiched between him and his boy for an undetermined amount of time. Uncle Wayne tried to let go of Eddie, but the boy whined and Uncle Wayne smiled to himself and squeezed Eddie tighter. "Easy, son, that's it. You know I ain't lettin' go 'til you want me to. M'right here."

Eddie sniffled and mumbled something like, "never gonna want you to let me go, dad," and your heart melted into a puddle on the floor, right along Uncle Wayne's. You weren't supposed to hear it, only Eddie's dad was, so you let Eddie keep his secret. Finally, Eddie literally wriggled his way free and found his way back to you as Uncle Wayne turned to look around the trailer. He saw the pull out sofa ready for him with the duvet pulled back and the pillows fluffed up, he saw frying pans and dishes on the draining board next to the sink and suspected that dinner leftovers were waiting for him in the fridge (he was right), and that the shower would be ready for him as well with pyjamas and his usual products (it was). His kids had made sure that all he had to do was eat, shower and then sleep, and warmth bloomed in Uncle Wayne's chest like flowers in a garden.

An eternal spring day, deep inside, forever.

[globaloppaaa]

matthew things .𖥔 ☁️ ݁ ˖‧₊˚ ⋅🌹

just because seok matthew is AN ACTUAL SWEETHEART oh my gosh i just had to share some hc’s ab him

partially based off my experience attending and performing at kcon LA!

- outwardly he may not enjoy the cute and baby comments made towards him, and he’ll try to dismiss them or change the topic publicly, but he’s totally hiding the fact at how much he loves the attention.

- when he’s alone with you or with close friends he’s the biggesttt softy. you can always tell when he gets blushy because his ears start to turn pink no matter how much he denies it.

- “happy virus” is the perfect dubbed name for him. he’s always looking for a way to make everyone smile. whether it’s through funny jokes, gifts, even embarrassing himself, if he gets a smile from you he’s done his job.

- on the topic of smiles, his is the most contagious thing. (this may be based off my personal experience 👀) you could be feeling any kind of emotion: anger, stress, nervousness, but one look at his bright smile comforts all of your worries.

- separate note for how his cheeks do that lil squish thing when he’s happy OH MY- you get the point.

- LOVES drives with you. idk something about him getting to showcase his biceps while jammin’ out really gets him going. doesn’t care when or where to, but i feel like the atmosphere of late night drives make him feel at peace.

- he’s gonna be respectful when he drives though, mama raised him right 💪🏼 He’d be nervous to reach over to you, no matter how desperately he wants to. It’ll take him a few months just to work up the courage to hold your hand against the gear shift.

- he soooo wants to rest his hand on your thigh but he reprimands himself bc that’s your personal space 😡

- he shows off so unintentionally… at least, he likes to innocently let it on in that way. yk that thing he does where he comments those heartwarming messages, followed by the most gruesome, whore-looking pic? it’s 10x worse when it’s just to you.

- “good morning sweetheart, i hope you rested well! i miss you love, my mind only thinks of you.” and he’s shirtless curling dumbbells 🥴

- acts like a toddler when your separated from each other. you could be going off to work and he’ll stay jumping at the door waving his arms until you’re down the street and out of his sight

- so later when you approach your doorway after a long days’ work, you better believe he’s running up to the door like a puppy just to give you the biggest welcome home greeting.

- confirmed golden retriever 🦮‼️

- he’s a sucker for romance, rom coms’, etc. anything that remotely reminds him of his relationship with you he’s obsessed with. matching outfits, hugs that sweep you off your feet, and those romantic phrases that leave you a blushing mess every time. 😵‍💫💗

- his pet names can be soo precious. with the way he comments to his fans i have no doubt it isn’t any less special for you. his favorites interchangeably revolve around baby, love, darling- (i can’t write any further i’ll cry).

- pet names with matthew can also be absolutely atrocious though. stink, booger, or some nickname from an embarrassing moment of yours seem very fitting to him. as much as he loves you, making fun of you is one of his top priorities.

that’s all i can write without making it self-indulgent ✌🏼

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

To you he's a menace to society, he's my little princess though. I'm back and here to serve more ideas of my favorite mean bbg 💗💗

Ok ok so I know this is based on the fic I sended, but can you imagine tan's wife being just so sassy? Walking up to this well known and feared leader, hand on our hip, smug smile, not a care in the world and saving our boys. And we always win because I said so.

Which brings me to my next point, acting. (I'm not obsessed with this idea at all haha) Now, this is silly but hear me out, since in the movie, the prince is a diesel because of her acting and how she bluffs, what if reader is arguing she's also a diesel because of her great acting skills. All I know for sure is that Lem would be so pissed at what we just said.

I hc that Tan doesn't spend much time on the internet, so when we send him "I'll see you at 14:37 :)" don't expect him to know. Lem would be like "you fucking dumbass" and having to explain what it means. (1437 = i love you forever)

Casual dom with Tan?? Pulling you by the waist so thar on the sidewalk you're further from the cars. Giving you his jacket because you "forgot" yours at home (he secretly loves it) scolding you when you don't eat and holding your chin up to make you look at him

This one is self indulgent but, wearing heels all day and you're legs hurt so he offers you a piggy back ride back home :((

Last one, I think he's kind of hesitant to open up at first but as time went by, and you two get married, what do you think will change in your relationship?

OK LAST ONE FR THIS TIME I'm feeling a little mischievous, giving him an attitude? 😱😱 shocking but,, how will he react? Please share thoughts ☺️

Also,, that text conversation ?? Delicious, thank you for the food ma'am. A while back, when I send one of these ideas asks (idk how to call them) I mentioned how it'll be like to be in a groupchat with these two and the fake sms app is exactly what I had in mind. Now that I saw the post, I wanted to ask if you could do something similar but I'm aware it's probably a lot of hassle so it's okay if you don't want to !! Sorry for any spelling mistakes!!  💺 anon

I love wearing sunglasses bcs no one will know what you're looking at haha. I say as I'm obviously staring at Tan's chest

hii!! ofc ofc, please enlighten me with ideas of our cute wholesome angel😩!!

1. like a protective mama bear 😌 always looking out for our little princesses. and yes to winning bc that’s the only way tbh

2. 😭😭😭 yes!! would kinda imagine as a femme fatale just bc it’s badass, and she would have many skills- acting one of them!! like someone you watch in a movie, and you’re like she’s fucking cool

3. yes!! feel like he’s a bit old in that department - he’s not really ‘up to date’. tbh I didn’t I know what that meant either until I read your last line😭 I feel like Lems the opposite of tan with the internet, he just knows things

4. ARFFGH LOVE IT!! he’s very chivalrous bc I say so! he NEVER lets you walk on the outside of the pavement!! always holds the/ your bags !! holds you close if you’re both out at night!! makes you food if you haven’t eaten!! makes you drinks- big acts of service kinda guy🫠😌 MAYBE… he doesn’t need a jacket but always brings one bc he knows you’ll get cold :((

5. so cute !!! especially if you went on a date!!

6. he’s a tough nut to crack!! dare I say a little difficult to love at times😶 I think he just needs lots of genuine reassurance and support to get you both past that first barrier. also he probs tries to push you away. but once you’re comfortable with each other and had a lot of time to learn from one another, he’ll be a great partner!! as most people, he gets more comfortable with time, so he’ll start to annoy you and wind you up for fun. maybe might argue more as time goes on, but they’re not that serious, nor are they petty, just standard ones

7. he knows how to shut you up, that’s all im gonna say

8. ugh you’re so welcome, love feeding my children😌 yes yes ofc!! just need to figure out how to that (bc it’s 3 people) I send messages to my ipad and respond that way😭 so if I find away to make a group chat as such, I’ll definitely let you know

9. he’s got such a pretty chest🥹

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Hello! Really wanted to share with you feelings about your neighbor! Soap . This job is so comfortable for me. I am very quiet and withdrawn, do not like tactility and sometimes I get teased because of it. Sure, I'm boring, but Soap... he's so cute. I have never had a person who would treat me not as a sociopath or strange. I admit, sometimes I even cry from this fic, because I feel that I can also be interesting and that they can listen to me and not try to talk to me or pull me out into a crowded place. What can I say, even now, while writing this, I missed a few tears. I'm so glad to feel like I have a place... Thank you. Thank you very much💗

Aww I’m so glad that my fic resonated with you and I’m sorry people treat you that way.

Admittedly, the neighbor!Soap fic is a little self indulgent since I’m very introvert/have extreme social anxiety so having someone like Soap treat me normally without any judgement is something that I want out of friendships/relationships.

I have every reason to believe that Soap would be kind to you. He wouldn’t call you boring because he understands (also he works with Ghost he’s got enough patience when it comes to this stuff.)

[shittybundaskenyer]

now it really is a wip i guess

Soooo my writer’s muse has been submerged in depression on vacation for a very long time now, but I started a little something-something maybe a week ago when the weather here turned really nice and I had some time to sit outside and soak up the sunlight. This thing is 100% self-indulgent romance (and a bit spicy👀) because I can’t be helped. Also Read Dead still has me in a chokehold after like 3 years so yeah. Thank you Isabell (@wintersongstress​​) for making me post something, now I have to finish this or I’ll go insane. I don’t know who to tag so anyone who’s reading this and has a wip, feel free to share it! 🌼💗🌼

It's spring and you're a flower, and you bloom too, unfolding your body like petals, legs and arms slowly sliding away to reveal soft flesh. There's no shame when Arthur looks up at you like you're the goddamn sun and the stars and the wind caressing his face. Maybe you are when you reach down and slide a thumb over his brow, the downwards arch of his eyelid when he closes his eyes. Two gorgeous pools of blue-green look up at you when your finger slides lower, over his lips, to dig in and make them part, wet tongue darting out around a small kiss. 

You watch him. His eyes, his mouth. 

His long, golden lashes lower, a dark kind of fire ignited in his gaze, doin’ the only sin he does not regret committing—wanting you. 

He grabs onto your side, the flesh on your hip and stomach, leaves heat in his wake there, large palm-shaped sunspots that ooze light into your bloodstream. Christ, you want him to touch you more. To make you burn, to make you into a flame that needs his tending.

"You're so damn pretty, little dove" he murmurs in that low voice, watching how a single flower of forget-me-not falls from your hair and lands on the top of your breast, trapped in a bead of sweat like a fly in amber honey.

The back of his head hits the ground, like it's a pillow woven from freshly sprouted grass and wild flowers and wet earth, and he moves you in his lap, lower, where you can feel him, hard and oh so ready but still waiting for your move. 

The spark is ignited. Your sun burns inside your ribcage for this man, a heart shaped from light, and you reach between the two of you to get him rid of his pants. Arthur doesn't move, but he lets you pull up his shirt, over a strong stomach and golden brown hair, over old scars that faded into silvery lines, to a ribcage housing a kind heart. 

"Will ya have me, Arthur?" you lean close to him, your bellies touching, your hand still restless at the buckle of his gun-belt, and he sighs into your hair, hips twitching at your eager request as he leans in to lay a gentle kiss on your temple, then the arch of your eyebrow. 

"'Course, sweetheart," he reaches up, cradles your nape as he curls his other arm around your waist, turning you until the soft earth cradles you like another lover.

[slashingdisneypasta]

May I ask/sugest a self-indulgent scenario where for whatever rason Y/N has to ride with the Toon Patrol but there's not enough space so has to sit in the lap of one of the guys (minus the driver obv)

If you're suggesting/requesting I write it then no 😅but if you just wanted to share the idea?? Yesssss, its so good XDD

Honestly I'd have very very few complaints if I had to sit in Wheezy's or Greasy's lap XDD

Lets see what everyone else thinks XD

[chronic-ghost]

Hello 👋🏻

Hi ! I hope I'm not bothering you. Just wanted to pop into your ask box and tell you that I really enjoy reading your fics! I've been a fan of pedro pascal for some time now and I really really love reading your take!! Esp on Javi in liar liar! It was really funny and you made me laugh so much! Thank you so much for writing and sharing !! I really hope you write more soon! I can't wait to read 🖤

I saw you shared an ask game?? I had some questions? if you don't mind answering that is because I know its been some time since you posted it? Feel free to ignore it if you want.

15 16 29 34 39 41 and finally 69 for Liar Liar

Sorry if they're a lot you dont have to answer all of them! I just couldn't resist.

I love your work ! Hope you have a great day! 🖤

okay so i had to take a minute to read this and reread it and reread it again. You are absolutely NOT bothering me -- I read this after a particularly humbling day at work, and wow, I thought about it the rest of the day. Thank you SO MUCH for reading my work! I am so touched that you are a seasoned pp reader and you find my take unique! It's hard out here for a fic writer so messages like this truly make all the frustration and head-banging that comes with writing really worth it. 💗 you are so sweet and i hope there are good things for you to look forward to!

As for the ask game, I am more than happy to play! :) And if you'd like, you don't have to wait for those games to come around if you have a question about a fic or would like an update! My ask box is always open! Here's your questions:

15. What’s your favorite time to write?

Probably the mornings. I like the mornings the best in general and there's nothing better than starting the day with a good writing flow!

16. Do you write by hand, on your phone, or on your laptop?

oh man, laptop every single time. I write notes or ideas to myself on my phone when I'm in bed and the brain waves are pulsing, but I could never write long form on anything but my computer. I know writers who write everything down first AND THEN type them -- to me that is like god tier writing process. I am a weak, weak woman.

29. What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

When I make people laugh. Call it my "fawning" instincts, but I always try and make people laugh in different social situations -- to varying degrees of success. So when people laugh at my dumb jokes in fic, I'm really pleased with myself!

34. How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

😬 oof y'all are gonna be able to spot my kinks after this. But honestly, it depends on which fandom/situation I'm writing for. I wrote a Midnight Mass fic that was very, very personal to my experiences growing up in Texas around Catholics. On the other hand, I don't have the guts to be, uh, so public as the reader in 'blood makes noise'. I think most of my reader characters are a mix of myself and who I want to be.

39. What’s your most self-indulgent wip?

(oh, honey, they all are) i think it's a tie between (working title) Living Dead Girl, where reader becomes Max's blood donor and (working title) Riders of the Purple Sapir, where Din and reader go on a quest for vengeance against the men who killed her father. The cowboy goth in me is REAL excited about both of those.

41. Who’s your favorite character you’ve written?

Max is quickly becoming the little bug in my ear about most things. He has such a distinctive personality from other Pedro boys, I love it so much. All his little faces kill me.

But I've said this to a friend -- i think half the fun writing for the pedro boys is coming up with a reader character that perfectly meshes with them. What personality traits would drive them up the goddamn walls? What do they need to feel fulfilled in a partner? So if "reader" can count as a character, I really liked the reader in Go Ahead, I Dare Ya and Recovery Road. Just as insane as their counterparts.

69. What are your favorite fics at the moment?

YES YES YES i get to GUSH about the fics that have me gnawing at my cage bars:

Psychomanteum by @whatsnewalycat is literally everything I want in a fic. perfect extensions of the characters from the source media. new problems for them that make you see more facets of their personalities. so.must.fantastic.smut it makes me want to scream. the angst and the grief and the literal haunting of a dead spouse - or a spouse that you lost but maybe didn't ever actually have adsfaksldjf GHOSTS I LOVE GHOSTS. i cannot recommend this fic enough. i am on my hands and knees begging people to read it.

This one isn't pedro specific, but @astroboots's Every Me Every You is like my kryptonite. Every new chapter hits me in a place that I didn't know could hurt while being such a fun throw back to the good ol' days of the MCU. i feel like it's written specifically for those of us who were on tumblr during the 2012 avengers take over. Good times.

For just the sweetest, gentlest Dieter Bravo, please consider @stardustandskycrystals 's Curls. I stumbled across it one night before bed and I was up until like 2AM to finish it. It's adorable and I just need them all to be okay forever and happy and little Charlie is basically my child at this point. Oof!

*takes you by the shoulders* if you even remotely like Prospect or the sci fi genre, I am BEGGING YOU to read Compulsion by @iamskyereads. Like. Like. I cannot formulate words to express how fantastic this piece of fiction is. I want to leave detailed, thoughtful comments but my mind just goes blank after reading it. Her work is truly a staggering piece of world-building and character development. I cannot believe this art is just free for me to consume. i am . . . undone by how good it is. (you should also read her Lie To Me series, insanely good too)

I KNOW i'm missing some so if I forgot yours I am SO SORRY FOR BEING AN IDIOT.

This response ended up being way longer than intended but I hope this show how much messages like these matter to me. Thank you again for reading and I hope my future fics don't disappoint you!

[softpine]

thank you guys for indulging me, you literally changed my whole mood 💖

@morrigan-sims mac absolutely counts :P i forget how long it's been since you guys have seen him, because he's always running around in the background being a nuisance while i'm trying to set up scenes fjskjds but anyway, thank you sooo much for sharing!! the supernatural elements are definitely my favorite too, i try to keep them balanced because i know they're not for everyone, but i find them so interesting to explore.

steviiiie my girl stevie. i don't pick favorites but she does have a special place in my heart (unfortunately for her, that means i pass a lot of my own issues onto her lmao but what else is writing for?) to answer your question: the dream she had as a kid was just a regular "wishful thinking" type dream, nothing prophetic! but if stevie got the chance, she absolutely would go comfort her younger self. she needed the hug :(

ahh i remember that anon about coco, that's so cool that you guessed that!!

thank you so much for this message, for always giving the best feedback, for being soooo awesome, all that great stuff :') 💖💗

@titoro woahhh i know exactly what post you're talking about and that's so long ago, thank you for being here 🥺💖💖💖 i'm so thankful that you would go out of your way to keep reading, and i hope YOU know how appreciated you are 💗

omg same, i have to rein myself in otherwise i would give you 293293029 alternate universe finns 😭 and that's awesome, my favorite thing is giving characters enough depth where you can be angry at them and also understand them and wish things were different! thank you so much for reading 💖💖

@rebouks WHAT i had no idea you read frozen pines before you joined, that's so cool 🥺 you inspire me constantly so you have no idea how much it means that i inspired you a little bit too. and i'm so happy that's the message you took away; i used to get embarrassed over how much i cared about my silly little NOT LITTLE sim story, but there's no reason for anyone to be embarrassed over anything they care about and have put so much love into creating. i have a lot of pride in what i've created and i hope you do too 💖 thank you so much for sharing, this made me so happy to hear 💗

godddd this is so sweet, thank you so so much for taking the time to share this with me (it's not too much, it's juuust right haha) 💖 these are some of my favorite scenes i've ever worked on, so i'm really glad you like them!! it's rare that i ever look at one of my own posts and wouldn't change anything, but that's how i feel about jada & alisa's confrontation, like it literally jumped out of my brain and onto the screen exactly how i pictured it. it makes me crazyyy 🥴 i just recently re-read the stevie + truck driver story and the funny thing is, i have no memory of whatever "daddy issues tiktok trend" i was angry about, but i'm glad i wrote it. you're not alone in it being a little too relatable lol. NYC griffin!!! i miss him :( he was probably the happiest version of finn we've seen yet. at the very least, he was the version with the most freedom. "i will love you in every life" literallyyy 😭 and he WAS the catalyst for asa and finn's real kiss omg. asa would've taken way longer to confess his feelings were it not for NYC griffin. pour one out for him!! sjksjd thank you soooo much for this lovely message 💖💖

ahhh that's a huge compliment, thank you 🥺💖

@bitchyybabyy400 omg if i was an outsider and casper/talon's kiss was the first thing i saw, i'd back out soooo fast (i'm really sensitive to second-hand embarrassment fjksjds) so i applaud you for sticking around :') and an IDEA BOOK that's so cool !!!! i'm legit honored, thank you so so much 💗💗 huge congrats on testing out of that class!!

@moonfromearth ooh this is super interesting, i'm always curious to know which posts "hooked" new readers!! it's amazing to hear that each characters' personality comes through even though you don't know who they are. and you even read the short story!! that's so cool, thank you!! 💖

awww yes selvadorada!! i need to speed things up so we can get back there faster lmao. this is so sweet, thank you 💗

@kanakomimura ohh man yeah, the labor scene made me emotional too ;-; and of course the breakup scene, i'm still pleased i was able to shock people with something we all knew was coming. thank you so much for sharing, this means a lot 💖

I MISS HIM SO MUCHHH. soon.....

@hedgehogs-and-songbirds thank you!! i ended up building a compost bin which took me all afternoon, but was pretty fun sjfksjd and i miss that era sooo much, it's why i'm always doing flashbacks and remaking their teen sims because i miss them 🥺 but it's been fun to try new things too! i'm so happy you're still around 💖💖

[koqabear]

hii sol !! i hope u have a good break n stay healthy hehe 💗 also wanted u to know u r one of my fav writers on here n i only recently found out ab camera shy n its so good >//< i also read what the body wants a few months back i think n im just so in awe like how do u write so good omg :(

i may have been lurking in the shadows of ur blog for a long time already but ill always be lurking..🫡

hiii !! omg thank you 🫶🫶 my break has been going very well and i've been getting my motivation to write again hehe... very excited to share some projects with u guys once i come back 🤭

ahhhh thank u so much aldkgh camera shy has a special place in my heart tbh, like that was probably the most self indulgent thing i ever put out. and wtbw... im still in shock by the sudden resurgence it had and honestly i don't think i could tell you what was going on in my mind when i wrote that...! it was a fever dream at best.

asdkglh always lurking... i'll have to keep an eye out for you...

[thereaderinsertlady]

(crawls in through your window) um hello yes I have a Valentine letter hehe 👉🏻👈🏻

This one is for my favourite Kirby anime character, Escargoon… and I’m very sorry for the massive self indulgence 😂💕

It ended up with slightly tsundere vibes, I didn’t mean for that to happen but I always end up being a tsundere when it comes to this kind of stuff, oops 🫣

And thank you for doing this event, it’s a really sweet idea!💗

Now to go and drown in my embarrassment (flies away)✨

(Also I did write it by hand but it looks like image submissions are turned off, but I’ll still share the photo on my page on Valentine’s Day if I’m not too embarrassed haha💗)

I’ll stop rambling now; here’s my letter!💕

—x—x—x—

Hi Goonie💗

Happy Valentine’s Day! I’m not very good at stuff like this, but I wanted to send you a letter anyway.

I’m glad I have you.

We’ve had our ups and downs, but every challenge we’ve faced together has only strengthened our bond, right? At least, I hope that’s how you feel too.

Ugh, my cheeks are heating up just writing this sappy stuff. You’d better not let anyone else see this letter or I’ll never forgive you.

Come and visit me soon, OK? I know you’re always pretty busy, but I miss you when you’re not around. And if you don’t come visit me soon, I’ll just have to come to the castle and embarrass you at work, and we wouldn’t want that to happen would we? 💗

Love, Rosie

The letter arrived in your mailbox at the end of the day on Valentine's Day, surprisingly. Perhaps the mailman decided to do some overtime to get everything mailed away? Regardless, the letter you received seemed like it was typed out on a typewriter. It still felt warm.

[Dear Rosie, Sorry that this letter may come in late! The King won’t leave me alone, and I’ve been running around the castle– he’s very big on Valentine’s Day, apparently. I managed to quickly type this out (my handwriting is horrible, as I’m sure you know) to say that I’m happy I got to meet you all that time ago! I’d love to spend more time with you. Maybe we can meet up on that one bridge, and have some alone time? The one that’s near the cherry blossom tree? I’m hoping I can sneak out late at night at some point, but let me know of an exact date when we can meet up. With care, Escargoon.]

[cameliawrites]

🛠 💖 and 🍦 for the ask game!

Sorry in advance for the long-ass answers here; I got overexcited! 😳🥹❤️

🛠 What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

Alas, I am but a simple woman—Google Docs for fics, always.

It’s actually a bit funny, because in my professional life, I hate Google Docs with a fury—Microsoft Word is a thousand times more conducive to the kind of persnickety formatting things I have to do to my legal writing.

But for fic writing, Google Docs lets me invite my friends to come leave comments on my WIPs (🥰), AND I have a very handy extension to convert all my formatting to HTML so I can easily copy and paste it into ao3!

I guess the only other “tool” I use for writing is my Notes app, because I often get ideas for fics or snippets of dialogue late in the night, out on walks, etc.

Just for a laugh, I’ll share this note from when I was drafting my oneshot “someone to watch over me” (& I always associate Winston with this fic for leaving SUCH a kind comment on it that melted my heart):

So I usually end up writing snippets of dialogue (without any punctuation 😅) and descriptions of scenes, and both of those things shown here ended up making it into the final cut of the fic!

Although I genuinely have no clue what this line—“Well I’m not; Inej mutters, and ignored the knowing grins as she stalked out of the room”—is referring to, because it didn’t make it into the published fic. And the tenses are all fucked up!

Sigh. 2:30 AM Lia is something else.

💖 What made you start writing?

Mmm, the boring answer is that I’ve been writing creatively since I was a child—typical sob story about not having very many friends in elementary school and becoming a voracious reader instead, etc. etc. (Don’t feel bad for me; I have been richly blessed in this life.)

The more interesting answer regards why I decided to start fic writing, which only happened this year.

I hadn’t written any sort of creative fiction since…early high school? Maybe? (Around age 14 or 15 or so) before this year, actually! I read the SOC duology about 5 or 6 years ago and loved the books (and I actually remember reading pretty much all the kanej fic that was available on ao3 at the time, lol). This past winter, I decided to do a reread and my kanej hyperfixation reawakened at the same time that law school just broke something in me—I was like, “legal writing is fucking HARD and the feedback is brutal. No silly fanfiction that I publish online is going to be as difficult or miserable as this.” …and it kind of killed off any fear or hesitation or self-doubt I had about diving in. 😂

Literally wrote the first fanfiction of my entire life at age 22 (and I already find it cringy, but I guess that means I’m improving? Lol), and now I’m nearly 70,000 words in and having the time of my LIFE doing it.

When I started, I was of course worried that nothing I wrote would be worth reading—but all of you lovely people have assuaged that doubt time and time again, and I can’t even begin to articulate the difference that’s made in my happiness this year. So thank you. 💗

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

I’m a sucker for fluff, so this question really is like asking me to pick the sweetest ice cream flavor.

I would say this little kanej kidfic, though. Everything I write is some level of self-indulgent, but this one is so absurdly saccharine that I can hardly believe I deigned to publish it. 😂 I try not to throw Kaz & Inej’s characterization out the window in favor of romantic tropes, but sometimes I toe the line, lol. I’m often mad at myself about it!

Sorry I’m such a marshmallow. 😅🤍

[jaylaxies]

finally just had the chance to read the jay chapter of tatbifb and i feel SO MANY THINGS AFTER THIS??? it was soso cute and then the end hurt so bad (but in a good way) 😭 i loved it soooo much though the fic was perfect, thank u for writing and sharing it with us 🫶🏻

AAA thank you so so much for reading it love <33 im so very glad you like it and this feedback means the world to me :3 it was so self indulgent cause jay is literally the loml 😭💗 i hope you have a great day/night ahead, anonnie <3