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#at least i remember reading about it once
lorelune · 2 days
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O4O: part i
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|| jing yuan x reader || E/18+ || omega for omega, soft smut || wc: 10.3k  || ao3 ||
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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.
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minors, antis and ageless blogs dni
💦🎀 this piece is apart of SPRING FEVER: an omegaverse collab! 🎀💦
part i (here) — part ii (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 👀💗!!),
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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.
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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.
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bratzforchris · 3 days
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Goldfish
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Summary: Matt has a chronic illness that the nurses at his local clinic are all too familiar with. The new nurse in town hasn't had a chance to meet him yet, but what happens when she does?
Pairing: Matt x nursefem!reader
Warnings: Mentions of needles and blood, chronic illness, use of medical steroids, flirty nurse!reader (this is all fiction!), Matt is 20/reader is 23, Matt has a service dog!!
Word Count: Just over 2k
A/N: This is lowkey inspired by the experience I had a few days ago with a flirty nurse while I was in the ER (I'm still thinking about him--had me giggling n kicking my feet n shit like I was in a rom com [this is definitely a story time]). ANYWAY, Matt has PFAPA (my chronic illness!) here. It's usually a childhood thing, but some rare cases like myself don't grow out of it. You can read more about it here, if you'd like. Enjoy!!
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Matt Sturniolo is all too familiar with his local pediatric emergency room. In fact, he’s been there so many times that the nurses have started to treat him as less of a patient, and more of a friend. “Hey Matt!”, “How’s YouTube going, Matt?”, “I remember you!”,  “I saw you last time!”, and the list went on. Some might ask why he still went there at almost 21, but when you had a chronic illness, it was best to see the people who had been caring for you for years if you could. These nurses had been caring for him at least once a month, ever since he was 12, and were usually quite skilled in how to manage the brunette’s comfort. 
Matt had PFAPA, which left him with high fevers and extremely sore, almost strep like sore throats every month. It was a miserable thing to live, and it really impacted his happiness, especially on days like today when he was having one of the worst flare ups he’d had in a long time and both Nick and Chris were unable to come along with him to the doctor. Luckily for Matt, he had his service dog, Emily, with him, but he still longed for a human companion as well. While some people wondered why he ‘needed’ a service dog, Matt’s disability was invisible. Emily would let him know when his flare ups were starting as well as laying on him to soothe his body aches and chills and helping with his anxiety at doctor visits. 
The nurse tech took him into the back rather quickly, running their usual tests of strep, the flu, and COVID. About 98% of the time, they would all come back negative, but the hospital staff liked to do all they could to make Matt more comfortable. Sure enough, the nurse practitioner stepped in about 30 minutes later, a sad look on her face. 
“How are you feeling, Matt?”
Matt shrugged, grimacing as his throat ached when he swallowed. “‘M not great.” he murmured, petting his pup’s head softly as the anxiety welled in his chest. 
“Well, everything came back negative,” she told, a sad look on her face. “We can test you for mono, though. You have a lot of the symptoms for that. That one is a blood test. We’re also going to give you an IV since you’re dehydrated.”
That sentence alone made him want to cry. Despite the tattoos and piercings he had, Matt hated medical needles. They hurt and they freaked him out. Sensing his anxiety, Emily scooted closer to Matt, whining softly and butting his leg with her head. Matt pet the dog’s head softly, steadying himself to get his breath. “Okay…” he breathed, steadying himself. 
The nurse practitioner patted his leg gently, hurrying out of the room to attend to her other patients. Matt began to panic, his breathing rapidly increasing as tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t want any of this. He just wanted them to tell him what was wrong so he could get some meds, go home, and sleep. Patting the bed he was laying on gently, Emily hopped up, curling into Matt’s side. The pooch rested her head on her owner’s chest, subconsciously working to slow the brunette’s heart rate. 
A few minutes later, another nurse and a lab tech stepped into the small room he was in, holding a tray full of supplies. Matt squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the sight, already dreading the feeling of getting blood drawn. Both healthcare workers were very kind, of course, whispering soft nothings to him as they patted his leg and prepared to draw his blood. They promised him that the procedure would be quick and easy, but those words never mixed well with a chronic illness. 
“Your vein rolled because you’re dehydrated. We’re going to have to draw from your other arm.” the lab tech informed him.
“O…kay.” Matt whispered shakily, trying to get his breath and the feeling in his hand back. 
The brunette knew that it was okay to cry, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. He was a grown man, laying here in a kid’s hospital room, trying not to cry while they tried to draw his blood again in his right arm. Unfortunately for Matt, the dehydration he was experiencing from his extremely sore throat caused his vein to roll again.
“Oh sweetheart,” the nurse said sympathetically, patting his leg. “We’re going to give you a minute, okay? Let’s get some water and Gatorade in you before we try again.”
Matt just nodded as he was passed a mini water bottle and a cherry Gatorade. He was hearing their words, but honestly, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he was going to be poked and prodded again, and he didn’t like it. Emily snuggled into his side, whining softly and brushing her sandpaper tongue against her owner’s arm, trying desperately to get Matt to feel better. 
“Alright, honey,” the sweet, older nurse stepped into Matt’s room again, holding a fresh tub of supplies to draw his blood. “Let’s try it in your left hand, okay?”
Because chronic illness never made things easy, the third time was still a failure, leaving Matt with an already bruising hand and tears pricking his eyes. Before he knew it, he was being shoved a packet of goldfish crackers, a popsicle, and more water, being informed that he had to eat before they could try again. The snacks felt like swallowing shrapnel, making the boy cringe every time he had to swallow. 
“Hello, oldest patient of the day!” You cheered, practically walking into Matt’s room on a cloud of glitter. 
Matt jumped in shock, petting his dog’s head to calm his racing heart. “...hi…” he mumbled. 
“They called me in for backup,” You explained, a smile on your face. You absolutely loved nursing, and every day at your job truly felt like a gift. You’d graduated from nursing school last year at the top of your class and had been working in the pediatric emergency room ever since. It wasn’t every day that you had a patient who was 20, but you didn’t mind. “We’re getting this blood draw this time so you can get the fuck out of here,” You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind if I curse.”
For the first time all day, a small giggled made its way out of Matt’s mouth. “No, I’m okay.”
“I see you have a buddy,” You commented. “That’s nice.”
“She helps my…anxiety.” Matt seemingly chose his words carefully, but they still made you smile. It was clear that the boy had a bond with his pup. 
“I’m gonna look at your tonsils first so we can get you some medicine to help you swallow and then we’ll draw your blood, okay?” You asked, wanting to make sure your patient was comfortable with everything. 
At the mention of a blood draw, Matt’s blue eyes widened with anxiety, his body becoming visibly tense. You had become in tune with this, sliding on a pair of pink latex gloves and patting the soft material of the pajama pants on his knee. 
“Hey, look at me,” You murmured softly, waiting for his response. Once Matt had looked at you, you chugged on. “We’re just chilling, okay? I’m not going to do anything yet.”
Matt nodded, letting out an anxious breath he’d been holding. “Okay.” he whispered. 
You grabbed the flashlight to look in his throat off the wall. “Alright, I’m pretty sure you know the drill,” You chuckled. “Open and say ‘ahhh!’...oh yeah, you’ve got an icky throat. That looks like it hurts. Although…did you have a blue popsicle? You’ve got blue tonsils. It’s rather endearing.”
Matt flushed, his ears going red as he nodded. You smiled softly, throwing away the cap and hanging the flashlight back on the wall. You gave the boy the steroidal liquid the nurse practitioner had drawn up for him to ease the swelling in his throat, a blush creeping onto your face as Matt scrunched his eyes up at the disgusting taste, quite literally making grabby hands for his Gatorade. 
“Fuck, that’s gross.” he whined. 
“At least you got it over with!” You hummed cheerfully, in a small aim to make him feel better. “Unfortunately, it’s time for the bad part, but we can make it a little less shitty if you want? Maybe you could play me some music? Something you like, okay?” 
Matt fiddled with his phone for a moment before landing on Dominic Fike’s latest release. You smiled at the lyrics, releasing this was one of your favorite songs at the moment. You prepped the materials needed to finally get Matt’s blood drawn for the mono test, patting his knee gently in an effort to calm his trembling frame as he rubbed his pup’s head. 
“Hey, can I tell you something?” You whispered shyly, setting him up for the procedure. “You’ve got goldfish in your teeth–it’s really cute.” You giggled, your own cheeks becoming red. 
The brunette whined, breathing deeply as you began to draw his blood. “That’s embarrassing.” he grunted. 
A few deep breaths and small, sad noises later, you had finally gotten the sample needed. “We got it!” You told Matt excitedly, placing a Barney band aid across the site. “All done!”
You bustled around the room, making sure Matt was comfortable, throwing away your supplies, and making notes on your clipboard. You helped the boy drink water and got him (and Emily) a blanket, before taking his samples down to the lab to get checked out. By the time everything was said and done, an hour had passed and Matt was asleep against the small bed when you knocked on his door. 
“Hey sleepyhead,” You giggled, stepping into the room. “Nice nap?” Matt fisted his eyes, nodding as you went over his discharge instructions. You always hated releasing patients with no explanations or answers as to why they felt so bad, but in cases like Matt’s, that wasn’t always possible. Your best bet was to make him as comfortable as possible here. “Do you have any questions?”
The brunette shook his head, finally able to speak now that the steroids were beginning to work their magic on his throat. “No, but thank you. You’ve been the best nurse I’ve had all day…maybe even ever.”
You blushed at the compliment, helping the boy stand since you knew he was already exhausted, dehydrated, and lightheaded from having his blood drawn. “Do you need help getting to your car? I actually just got off.” You murmured shyly, glancing at the clock on the wall. 
Despite Matt’s steadiness on his feet and his grip on Emily’s leash, the blue-eyed boy nodded all the same, a quietly flustered look crossing his face. You smiled yourself, maneuvering Matt out to his car with a firm, yet gentle hand on his lower back. Thankfully, the waiting room had quieted down quite a bit now that it was nearing the evening, so no one questioned or pulled you away from walking Matt out. It was a slow trek with your patient being a bit unsteady on his feet, but you didn’t mind. Matt’s presence made you happy in an odd sort of way; you hated that he wasn’t well and that this would continue to happen for him, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about seeing him again. 
“I um…I hope this isn’t weird, but I would really like to see you again. Maybe another time? When you’re not in pain?” You coughed and chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. 
He smiled as he slid into the driver’s seat, rubbing his aching head that was seemingly getting better just by being around you. “I’d like that,” he offered. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”
Matt didn’t end up leaving his trip to the hospital with many answers beside the usual ‘It’s your chronic illness’, but what he did end up leaving with was your phone number scribbled onto a pink sticky note that he had been given in the parking lot. 
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tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy
note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3
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candycandy00 · 3 days
Note
Hi! I decided I'd try my luck with this. I love your writing btw, your Doll House fics are just amazing. Congratulations on 2k followers, you deserve it! Here's my request for the event:
Character: Tomura Shigaraki
AU Setting: Prison
Spice Level: NSFW or Slightly Spicy
Mood: Writers choice
Kinks: Daddy kink, size difference, virgin reader, praise kink, and if you want, non-con.
I was thinking maybe Tomura is a prisoner and Reader is a guard working at the prison. Thank you! I'm excited to see the results!
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Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Quirkless AU. Shigaraki is a prisoner, reader is a guard. Straddles the line between Dubcon and Noncon, so beware! 
Part of CandyCandy’s 2k followers event! Any feedback is adored! Dividers by @benkeibear.
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You’ve only been working as a guard at this high security prison for three weeks, and you already want to quit. 
It started out so well. The pay is good, the warden isn’t a complete jerk, you get along with your coworkers, and even the prisoners are relatively well behaved. Sure, they occasionally flirt with you or make inappropriate comments, but as the only woman guard, you’re not surprised. 
However, a week ago you were transferred to a different section of the prison, and that’s when you found out that Shigaraki Tomura, the infamous serial killer and terrorist, is being held here. 
Everyone in the country knows his name. Everyone lived in fear of him while he was on the loose, carving a path of murder and mayhem across the nation. And everyone celebrated when he was finally caught and sentenced to life in prison, but the public was never informed of which prison he would spend the rest of his days in. 
That was six years ago. You were a teenager then, but even you had watched the trial on the news, being equal parts terrified and fascinated by the thin man with long white hair and peculiar red eyes. He had remained totally silent throughout the trial, showing no emotion whatsoever. No remorse, but no pride or malice either. At one point he looked directly at the camera, and the intense look in his eyes gave you nightmares for weeks. 
So when your coworker led you to a cell with no bars, only a tiny window slot to look through, you were shocked when you looked inside and saw the notorious killer.
He was sitting on his cot, reading a book. He looked a little different, naturally after six years. His hair was longer, still that shocking white color, and he was more toned than you remembered. He probably lifted weights like the other prisoners did for recreation. He glanced up at the window slot, and his ruby eyes met yours. By reflex, you pulled away. 
For the next few days, you had to patrol this hallway. No one ever went into Shigaraki’s cell, for any reason. Food was pushed through the slot on a tray. He was taken from his cell once every night to shower. It had to be when there were no other prisoners in the shower room, because the guards needed to focus their attention on him. Two armed guards had to escort him to the shower and then escort him back. 
The guards didn’t seem that worried about him. In six years he has been completely docile and quiet. He rarely speaks and shows zero inclination for violence. Actually, he’s a model prisoner. At least that’s what the other guards told you. 
Once, you were one of the guards in charge of taking him to the shower room. You tried to avoid looking at him as he undressed in front of you and the guard standing beside you. But it was literally your job to watch him, as awkward as it was. He didn’t seem embarrassed to have a woman in the room, probably because he has a surprisingly nice body, well sculpted, with impressive proportions. 
After he finished showering, he dried off and dressed in fresh clothes, and as you stepped beside him to escort him back to his cell, he spoke to you for the first time. 
“Enjoy the show?”
You looked at him in shock, more from hearing his voice for the first time than from his words. But once those words sank in, your face flushed with heat and you frowned at him. “Murderers aren’t my type,” you shot back, and nothing more was said. 
Today, three days later, you find yourself on shower duty again. You and a friendly coworker are standing just outside the reach of the water’s spray, watching Shigaraki lather himself up, when both your radio communicators buzz with sound. 
“Riot in Cell Block D! Everyone available head to Cell Block D to assist!”
You turn toward the door to rush over and help, but your fellow guard stops you. “I’ll go. You stay and watch him!”
You glance at Shigaraki, who is taking his time rinsing off, then back to the guard. “Wouldn’t it be better for you to stay?”
He shakes his head. “Have you ever seen a riot before? It’s wild! People are throwing punches left and right, shoving, kicking… it’s dangerous! Look, Shigaraki has been perfectly behaved since he’s been here. He’s not gonna mess up his record now. Besides, you have a gun. If he tries to make trouble, just shoot him in the leg!”
With that, the other guard runs off, leaving you alone with the wet, naked serial killer. 
You place your hand on your holstered gun, just for your own peace of mind, and watch him warily. He glances over at you, and his eyes widen very slightly. He’s probably surprised to find you alone. A hint of a grin passes over his face, and he turns his body to face you, giving you a very clear view of his nakedness. 
It makes you want to avert your eyes, but you can’t. Especially not now, being the only guard in the room. He probably knows that. 
Suddenly Shigaraki groans and grabs the wall of the shower as he staggers toward you, as if he’s dizzy. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, your hand still on your gun. “Are you alright?”
“I don’t know…” he mumbles, holding his head with his free hand. “Feel like I’m… passing ou-“
He lurches forward, falling, and you rush to catch him in your arms. It’s simply human nature to try to catch a falling person, a reflex you can’t control. And as soon as you feel his hard, dripping wet body against yours, you realize your mistake. 
His hand moves swiftly to your gun, pulling it from the holster and tossing it across the room, far out of your reach. Your first instinct is to reach for your radio, to call for help, but he has one of your hands in a vice grip as he knocks the radio out of your other hand. It smashes on the tile floor, and you have no options left but to try to fight him off.
The struggle doesn’t last long. He’s taller and stronger than you, and he probably has a lot of experience subduing people by force. He killed a lot of people with his bare hands after all. 
He manages to knock your feet out from under you and you crash onto the wet floor as the water from the shower pours over you both. He drops down to his knees, straddling your thrashing body, and quickly pins your hands back, on either side of your head. 
“Stop fighting, or I’ll have to hurt you,” he says, his voice frighteningly calm. 
You go still, smart enough to know better than to waste your energy on a losing battle. “You’ll never escape,” you tell him, trying to sound sure of yourself. 
A disturbing grin spreads over his face. “Who said I want to escape?”
“Then what are you…?” Your voice trails off as you realize what he intends to do. “No!” you shout, struggling beneath him. 
He grips both your wrists and then slams them against the floor. “Be still, or I’ll snap your neck! And when the other guard comes back, I’ll snap his neck too! I’m serving a life sentence, I’ve got nothing to lose!”
You go limp, whimpering as he straightens up, releasing your wrists. Even with your hands free, you’re still unarmed, on your back, helpless. Trying to fight him will only get you killed, and possibly your coworker as well. You’re dealing with a murderer, so his threats are definitely not empty. 
“That’s it,” he says, lightly stroking your now wet hair, “that’s a good girl. Now keep being good for me, and you might just enjoy this.”
You look at him with venom in your eyes. “I would never-“
He covers your mouth with his own, his tongue slipping past your lips and mingling with yours. When he pulls away, he’s grinning at you again. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, where your eyes linger. You can deny it all you like, but I know what you want.”
“You’re wrong,” you tell him, looking him straight in the eyes. 
“Really? Guess we’ll see.”
You can feel the water on the floor seeping into your clothes, the edge of the shower’s spray hitting your left arm and shoulder, as his hands move to the buttons of your shirt. With nimble, steady fingers, he unbuttons them, shoving your shirt open to reveal your white lace bra. Then he pushes it up, above your breasts, exposing you. 
Turning your head to the side, you avert your eyes as his hands squeeze and rub your soft flesh. You refuse to make a sound. You won’t give him the satisfaction. 
Once he’s done groping your chest, he moves down, unbuckling your belt, then unzipping your standard gray uniform pants. You draw in a sharp breath as he yanks your pants down your legs, but otherwise remain silent. 
“Moment of truth,” he says, then he pauses. You glance back at him, and he says, “I’ll make a deal with you. If your pussy isn’t wet at all, and not from the water, I’ll stop. I won’t touch you again. But if you’re all sticky and ready for me…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence. You squint your eyes closed, and he pulls your panties off before opening your legs. You feel his fingers touch you, slide into you way too easily, and then he laughs. 
“In knew it! You’re drenched.”
You open your eyes, your face hot with embarrassment. “It’s the water! I’m not… aroused.”
He holds his fingers up, moving them like scissors to show the stretchy strings of fluid. “This isn’t water.”
You look away again, tears blurring your vision. Even you don’t know why you’re turned on by him. He’s a killer! “Just… don’t hurt me,” you finally say. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Huh?” He looks confused for a moment, staring at your face with red eyes until your words click. “Wait, never? So you’re…?”
You don’t say anything to confirm it, you don’t have to. You’re waiting for some gross comment or mockery, but he just leans his face down close to your ear and says, “I’ll take care of you.”
What does that mean? Before you can react, his fingers are inside you again, probing, stroking, making you feel things you’ve never felt before. You let out a small cry, and then clamp your hand over your mouth. You swore you wouldn’t make a sound! 
Shigaraki grins down at you. “Cute,” he says, before dipping his head down to kiss your neck. He’s being strangely gentle, kissing you like a lover, making your heart flutter even as your mind rejects everything that’s happening right now. 
You feel pleasure building in your core, and you fight the feeling with everything you have. You can’t cum from being touched by this monster! You just can’t! 
Mercifully, he stops, pulling his hand away and licking his fingers. You watch him, your breaths coming faster, your heart pounding. Then, you feel his hands on your hips, holding you in place. You don’t struggle as he pushes himself inside you, slowly and carefully, looking you in the eyes. You’re not even sure if you want to struggle anymore. 
There’s a disturbing beauty to him as he hovers over you, his damp white hair spilling over his shoulders, his intense eyes shimmering. When he begins moving inside you, he starts with shallow thrusts, slightly stretching you as he goes. There’s a bit of a sting, but nothing like you expected, especially with him. 
“You’re doing so good,” he says into your ear before kissing your lips again and thrusting a bit deeper. “Being such a good girl for me.”
As he starts to go faster, harder, he reaches down with one hand and strokes your clit with his fingers, making your hips buck reflexively. A moan escapes you, but at this point you’ve stopped caring if you make noise. You both hate this and love it, and you can’t decide which emotion is stronger. 
The pleasure builds again, spiraling through your body, and this time, nothing you can do will stop it. 
You cry out as you climax, your back arching. Shigaraki has one hand on your thigh, the other buried in your hair, and he keeps fucking you deeply as you ride out the storm of pleasure, clenching tightly around him. Eventually you feel him twitch inside you, and then he cums, not even bothering to try pulling out. He coats your insides completely, looking down at you with twisted affection in his eyes. “Good girl,” he says, before pulling out of you and standing up. 
He showers off again while you scramble to put your wet clothes back on, having no idea what to do about this. And so when your fellow guard finally returns, you’re silent besides telling him you got wet catching Shigaraki when he nearly fainted. 
Your mind is racing. Shigaraki dresses and smiles at you as you escort him back to his cell, looking almost smug. 
As you lock the door, he looks at you and says, “I hope you’ll be on shower duty more often.”
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starberry-cupcake · 2 days
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I'm back! Thank you kindly for your patience, we're done with Act III! It was probably a terrible idea to wait because this is so long, I'm so sorry.
previously, in harrowhark! a vagrant the ninth:
this happened
also a couple previews that will show up in this but are in the tag
currently, chapters 24-31 (END OF ACT III!!!):
harrow wakes up after sleeping a sensible amount of hours in yandere twin's room
yandere twin, who's into chomping cavaliers, complains about having had some harrow soup
they have a sort of tender moment, I guess
they have a complicated dynamic
harrow falls asleep again
she's in the bed and yandere twin is sleeping on the floor
and harrow is woken by the sound of self inflicted pain and torture
harrow gets tired of this and decides to just rip yandere twin's arm off
@lady-harrowhark reminded me that I called this (!!!) in this recap
I had absolutely 100000% forgot I said that but congrats past me!!!
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so, there's this scene in which harrow rips yandere twin's arm off and puts a new bone-y one in there, remade with her own parts
like this
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some people have told me in the replies that it's a sessual sort of scene, and I get that, I suppose it was the vibe it was going for
total respect to that
but I'm gonna be honest here
it felt like I was witnessing a birth and harrow was the midwife
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so harrow lets yandere twin know that she's been improving her necro powers via studying and practicing to try to make up for her being "lyctor lite"
harrow and alleged gideon aka ortus are the only people here that seem to be getting any work done tbh
so now, with the new arm, inner chad can use the sword again
and yandere twin is happy because she's now a proper lyctor and has senior chad aka augustine's approval
harrow is proud of herself for doing nice necro things like chopping and reconstructing arms
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as a thanks, yandere twin agrees to help harrow to kill alleged gideon the first aka ortus
nobody asked you, but ok
I actually have no qualms with alleged gideon aka ortus
because he's at least direct and honest about it
everyone here has an agenda, at least this guy's like directly trying to physically kill harrow
at this point, I respect the direct approach
augustine and emperor reverend professor john can go fu—
WELL, ACTUALLY, WE'LL GET THERE LATER
CHAPTER 28
we're back at gideon-less canaan house
canaan house isn't safe in any universe, all the trails lead to death
everyone who's alive or accounted for is having a sleepover
there's a bunch of people unaccounted for, actually
the kiddos from the fourth are allegedly hidden elsewhere
who knows, at this point
I don't trust anyone
there's a fog and rain and water rising still
which reminds me of the movie identity, in which they all were trapped in that motel because it wasn't actually a motel and they weren't actually alive per-se
magnus and abby say that protozoa should have decked mayonnaise uncle
which is one of the reasons why the gideon universe is superior
aside from the presence of gideon and camilla
I miss them so much I'm gonna start biting cavaliers
anyway, where in the hell is duracell bunny nephew???
he wasn't with mayonnaise uncle when he yeeted himself
his soul, which got detached from his body in the gideon universe, is still flying like a balloon across universes and dimensions, I guess
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abby didn't expect regina george twin to die, apparently, and says "if she's gone, then perhaps that means..." but doesn't elaborate
nobody ever elaborates
abby also makes harrowbean read another one of the "harrow texts"
I can't keep adding them all together in recaps because this will end up being super long but here goes the new one
"I will remember the first time you kissed me —you apologized— you said, I am sorry, destroy me as I am, but I want to kiss you before I am killed, and I said to you why, and you said, because I have only once met someone so utterly willing to burn for what they believed in, and I loved him on sight, and the first time I died I asked of him what I now ask of you. I kissed you and later I would kiss him too before I understood what you were, and all three of us lived to regret it—but when I am in heaven I will remember your mouth, and when you roast down in hell I think you will remember mine"
so yeah, we've got a triangular situation, I suppose
I need to put all of them together to continue to draw connections
my though was that this could be ice cube barbie aka annabel lee, because of the long-lost sun, but I'm unsure still
I don't think the timing fits the other side of the 3d model that's the gideon's mom and rebel leader situation
inconclusive still
abby suggests harrowbean she might be haunted
which might also fit with ice cube barbie??? maybe??? idk
CHAPTER 29
harrow says she doesn't remember shit about chad
get perpetually owned, chad
mercygirl asks harrow things about her necro process for the arm reconstructing and the last thing she asks is "what is the name of the saint of duty?" to which harrow says "ortus the first" and mercygirl goes
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me and my "alleged gideon" theory are very happy about this
the hill I will die on
mercygirl continues to use onomatopoeias to express herself
I do not want to think about what that would imply in a later situation I don't want to dig into
"you read unholy omens in the way people say good morning" that's what these recaps are, thank you very much harrow
that's our tagline over here, that's our brand
"how you loathed any sentence beginning with augustine says" SAME, BESTIE
I HATE THAT MAN
he can go fu— ANYWAY
harrow and yandere twin are having sleepovers so that harrow isn't murdered in her sleep
apparently the nudes are cyrus and his cavalier and yandere twin likes that energy
they gifted them to others as souvenirs too
it's like if you had a university classmate who sent nudes to the groupchat every birthday
yandere twin says augustine the asshole has agreed to help kill alleged gideon aka ortus the first
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I don't trust any of these lyctors if they're willing to kill each other this easily
how do I know they've got my back in combat if they don't have each other's backs—
I CAN'T EVEN ARTICULATE MY THOUGHTS AND NOT SOUND TERRIBLE NOW THAT I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS LATER IN THE PARTY
ANYWAY
yandere twin reminisces about not having been apart from regina george twin much in their lives and hoping she's sleeping well wherever she is
I also don't know where she is
yandere twin tells harrow that she was more farsighted than her
which I'm sure she was, but she doesn't seem to remember shit about it, and the letters remain unopened
harrow thinks it's kinda gross that the cyrus lyctor murdered his cavalier to become a lyctor and then took all of their nudes to the emperor's bolthole
none of these lyctors are operating from a place of common sense, harrow
"you were lucky that the memory of your own cavalier did not hurt you—except sometimes in the form of a sick headache in your temples, or in words stuck on repeat in your head"
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so, augustine's plan involves dinner
harrow, hearing that, is like this
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they look for clothes in the cavalier's things
yandere twin says "valancy trinit was my height, weighed more than both of us put together, and —judging by her portraits— had a body that did not quit"
I sure hope she's a thick girl, because I've had enough disappointment with the gideon cover not letting her have the arms she deserves
I hope valancy trinit looks kinda like this
ANYWAY, here's the makeover vibes, as previously shared
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apparently chad could embroider, which I have to admit is a good quality
hate giving him any props, but I must be fair
harrow painted the less cute skull in her repertoire and we respect that
they went to augustine's room and he's still an asshat
I don't like how he treats yandere twin tbh
I feel like yandere twin has a thing with validation because of how her life has been and he uses that
augustine justifies his betrayal to his fellow lyctor saying that he "caused more pain over these last scant forty years than I dare to admit"
mercygirl is also here for the party, all dressed up
SO HERE'S THE THING
I am so embarrassed I didn't pick it up on the fly and it took me the whole chapter to put it together
augustine tells her "dios apate, minor"
at the time, I didn't remember what it meant, and when I finished reading the thing, I was like "oh, it's exactly like the deception of zeus"
I forgot that's what it was called
I mean, I got the "dios" part, obviously, but forgot the "apate"
my ancient greek professor is going to come back into my life to shoot me at my doorstep
to be fair to myself, it was a long while ago that I took ancient greek
AT LEAST I PICKED THE REFERENCE UP AFTER, OK????
god, I'm so embarrassed
palmolive, I'm so sorry, I promise I figured it out eventually
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mercygirl punches augustine in the face, which is great
he insists on it being "minor", which idk where the line is there and I'm not gonna ask
idk which things are or aren't...involved in a minor form of zeus's deception
mercygirl says she's not wearing the right dress, I don't think it matters, it worked just fine
CHAPTER 30
everyone gets drunk except for alleged gideon aka ortus and harrow, because they're the only people in this group project who are doing the work
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augustine and mercygirl start fighting about something their cavaliers did back in the day
they start toasting for cavaliers and talking about how "hot pyrrha was"
there is no respect for the dead in the emperor's bolthole
there's about to be something else in the emperor's bolthole in a minute though
I was excited about them drinking, though, because that's when people start spilling some truths
the lost commander of BOE is a "she", her name is/was Commander Wake, she almost killed alleged gideon aka ortus
I'm still spinning with the gideon's mom theory
and the background telenovela I've got going on
BOE found a Herald, killed it and turned it into weapons against these clowns
good for them, tbh, kill these drunk irresponsible bastards
emperor reverend professor doctor john thinks it's narcissistic of him to toast to himself
I want to murder him in cold blood
I hate this man so viscerally I want to rip him apart with my hands
the twist in this book is that I'm gonna reach to his murder and it's gonna be me
it's like bastian reading the neverending story but it's me killing this man
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his full name is john gaius but I had been spoiled of his name by people not tagging their posts
he also does a "your mama" joke because he's my villain origin story
"part of your brain temporarily calcified into atheism" I'M GLAD, HARROW
so, they start to make out, all three of them
I finally caught up about zeus's deception and all about here
emperor awful is sandwiched between mercygirl on a table and augustine behind him and they forget there are children in the room
well, not children, but same difference, they're a million years old
harrow and yandere twin get the hell out of that display
CHAPTER 31
yandere twin wants to kiss harrowbean before she leaves to kill alleged gideon aka ortus, but harrow doesn't let her
harrow says "my affections lie buried in the Locked Tomb" to which yandere twin responds "Somebody might even exhume them for you"
when harrow mentioned not wanting to be touched while sleeping beside yandere twin, I remembered the pool hug and all that, that was a nice time
people were being killed left and right but it was a nice time
ANYWAY
harrow has a whole plan and has it all figured out, it's a really good plan, it works very nicely, but alleged gideon aka ortus isn't where they told her he was
sometimes, life works that way
the man you plan to kill isn't in the training room and all
she goes to look for him in not!dulcinea's crypt or whatever
and she sees this
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and the spear
she follows the children's hospital trail of blood to the incinerator
alleged gideon aka ortus is inside the fire thingy and not!dulcinea is operating the controls
I wonder who could have predicted that this woman could still be an issue even after death
me, it was me
anyway, no time for I-told-you-so's because harrowbean decides to help him out of there
I'm very happy because I need him alive
he knows things and he's less bad than everyone else around here
because he's upfront about the killing
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he tells her some things while he's kind of out of it
like to use blood wards instead of bone ones
that it will make her safe from "us"
"I know you're there. Kill me all you like. I would know you in the blindness of my eyes" he says and, among other things "Just tell me—back then—why you brought along the ba—"
WAS HE GONNA SAY BABY???? WHAT IF HE WANTED TO SAY BABY???
I'm still on my gideon agenda, sorry if it's embarrassing to read
of course emperor dickhead stops him before he can finish it
alleged gideon aka ortus says he doesn't remember shit afterwards and harrow sees her own mental state reflected in his
they can't find not!dulcinea, apparently
she's probably operating heavy machinery elsewhere
harrow is putting up her blood wards when she hears augustine and mercygirl argue about the whole zeus situation
the incinerator alarm apparently interrupted their plan of letting this happen
whether or not they had a hand on the not!dulcinea thing idk
mercygirl says she didn't move her
we end this act with ice cube barbie maybe annabel lee saying "The water is risen. So is the sun. We will endure."
obligatory yearning for camilla moment
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That is the end of Act III and of my commentary because this was way too long and I need to make less chapters at a time istg
78 notes · View notes
finniestoncrane · 2 hours
Note
Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3
Different Up Here
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, rimming, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly
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If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.
"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"
Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.
"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."
A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.
"Heh, that's a new one for out here."
Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.
"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"
"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."
"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."
You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.
That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.
Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.
"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"
Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.
"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."
You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.
"No, no no no no no. Just..."
The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.
"... fooling around... y'know?"
Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.
"Oh... oh darlin'."
He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.
"I don't think you're ready for that at all."
You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.
"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"
"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"
"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."
Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.
"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."
"Why? Sex is sex..."
You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.
"... Isn't it?"
"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."
The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.
"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."
His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.
"No, sir."
"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"
As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, sir."
You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.
You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.
And luckily, he seemed agreeable.
"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"
Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.
It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.
"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."
"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"
Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.
"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."
His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.
"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."
"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"
Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.
"Well, it's something like this."
He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.
Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.
Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.
"Well?"
"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."
"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"
He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.
"You like that? Like it rough?"
"I think... I think I like both."
"So, something like this?"
He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.
You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.
"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."
Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.
"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."
His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.
"Did they make you feel good?"
"No."
You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.
"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"
"A little..."
Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.
"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."
His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.
“And what about these pretty lips?”
Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.
“They touch these lips, huh?”
You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.
“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”
As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.
“Do it slowly though.”
Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.
“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”
You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.
“Turn around though. You face that way.”
The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.
“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”
A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.
The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.
It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.
“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”
His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.
“Don’t you dare, little lady.”
“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”
He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.
“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”
“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”
“I absolutely will not.”
Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.
Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.
“I am warning you, missy.”
“Cooper… I can’t stop…”
You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.
“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”
“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”
Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.
“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”
“Cooper…”
“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”
“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”
“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”
The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.
“Come on, darlin’, come on…”
Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.
As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.
“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”
You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.
“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”
As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.
“Alright then, get onto your knees.”
Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.
You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.
It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.
“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”
The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.
He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.
“Can I taste it… you?”
Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.
“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”
You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.
A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.
Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.
“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”
He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.
“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”
You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.
“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”
It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.
“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”
Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.
He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.
“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”
You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.
Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.
And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.
“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”
He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.
“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”
“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”
“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”
You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.
Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.
“Bigger than before?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.
“Better?”
“Mhm…”
“Speak up, darlin’.”
With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.
“Yes… it’s better.”
“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”
Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.
“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”
“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”
Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.
“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”
You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.
“Ah… Cooper…”
“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”
There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.
“A little…”
Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.
His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.
“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”
He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.
“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”
You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.
“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”
With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.
“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”
It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.
And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.
You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.
“Did I say you could get up?”
Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.
“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”
Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.
“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”
Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.
When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.
“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”
“M-more?”
More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.
“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”
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everybodyshusband · 2 days
Text
teaching a skill
mushy may ; day twenty two !! (approx. 860 words)
read under the cut or on ao3 :)
Aeon flops down dramatically onto the couch, only narrowly avoiding clocking his head on Mountain’s blanket-covered hip bone. “I’m so bored.”
Mountain hums. “Want to sit with me and read, bug? You can come under the blanket with me,” he sing-songs.
“Nooo,” Aeon moans. “I’m so hungry I can’t focus on anything which makes me bored but I can’t do anything because I’m hungry.” He glances up at Mountain and whacks his shoulder when he sees the earth ghoul smirking. “Don’t laugh at me, Mounty, I’m dying.”
Mountain sighs and puts his book down. “You wanna help me cook something then? I was going to make brownies later but I can make them now to give you something to snack on.”
“Please!” Aeon practically yells. “I’m gonna starve to death…”
“Come on. Up you get, buggy.” Mountain stands up and holds his hands out, pulling Aeon to his feet and leading him over to the kitchen. Aeon stands and watches as Mountain opens up drawers and cupboards, pulling out bowls, measuring cups, assorted ingredients and his old beat-up recipe book. “Alright, all we have to do is follow this recipe and then in about an hour, we’ll have some delicious brownies for you to eat. Are you ready?”
Aeon nods but… “I’ve never baked anything before, I– I don’t really know how to do it.”
“Hey, that’s alright,” Mountain assures him. “I’ll help you. I’ll set up the scales for you while you have a flick through the book and find the brownie recipe. I’ll be under the sweets category.”
Aeon shoots him a thumbs up and picks up the book. It’s one that Mountain has compiled himself from magazine cutouts and handwritten recipes, some passed down from the ghouls that came before him and some new creations from the earth ghoul’s own mind. By the time he’s located the brownie recipe, Mountain has set up the scales and is already beginning to measure out the flour; it’s no surprise to Aeon that Mountain remembers the measurements by heart, brownies are a once a week occurrence at least in their pack.
“Ah, perfect, thanks, Ae. Do you want to take over from here? I’ll be here helping the whole time.”
Aeon nods. “Yeah, sure. Thank you, Mounty.”
He gets a pat on the back and a kiss on the top of his head in response. “You’re welcome, bug. Now c’mon, Dew messaged and asked if I could make him something to eat. Lazy bastard doesn’t want to lift a finger and bake them himself even after I told him he could do it himself if he wanted them that badly.” Aeon turns to Mountain, eyebrow raised. “Fine,” the earth ghoul relents. “I said I’d be happy to and that I love him very much and did he want sprinkles and melted chocolate on his brownies?”
Aeon snorts. “That’s more like it,” he laughs. “I was getting worried for a second there, Mount.”
From there, the time passes quickly. Mountain jumps in to help or give advice whenever the quintessence ghoul asks for it, but for the most part, Aeon is doing well without too much guidance. The only real trouble comes when it’s time to decorate them; Aeon has no idea how to do that without messing up all his hard work by making them look atrocious.
“That’s half the fun,” Mountain argues. “Plus it’s endearing if they look a bit shit, and personally I think they taste better if they don’t look all fancy,” he confesses. “We’re only dripping on melted chocolate, you’ll be fine, I promise. Here, watch me do the first tray and you can copy that for the second, yeah?”
“Yeah, sounds good. Thanks, Mount.” Aeon watches intently as Mountain dips his spoon in the melted chocolate and picks up a decent amount of tempered chocolate on the end of it. The earth ghoul spins it around to stop the chocolate from dripping and Aeon is surprised that when Mountain reaches the tray of brownies he just… goes for it. The chocolate drips every which way and covers the brownies in a messy drizzle that Aeon can’t deny looks absolutely delicious. When it’s his turn, he does the same, opting for a slightly more uniform pattern than Mountain’s but the earth ghoul assures him the slab still looks more than edible. The two of them take it in turns with the container of sprinkles, covering their squares in the colourful blobs.
They cut the trays into brownie-sized pieces and compile both batches into one big container, making sure to set some aside for the two of them—and Dew. At a nod from Mountain, Aeon grabs one out of the container and takes a big bite, eyes widening in delight at the flavour. “I made that,” he says with his mouth still full. “I made that and it tastes so good!”
Mountain grins taking a bite of his own brownie “Yeah you did! It’s really good, well done!”
Aeon smiles widely, stuffing the rest of the brownie into his mouth gleefully. “We gotta go find Dew,” he urges. “I wanna go brag that I can cook and he can’t!”
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half-bakedboy · 2 days
Text
one hell of a story
For @bucktommyweek prompt: alternate first meeting | 1.4k | Teen
Tommy's not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot. He owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor, which is how he finds himself trying to land a failing helicopter in the middle of a baseball field. Unfortunately, he fails. But he meets Evan in the process, so it's worth it.
read on ao3 or under the cut
“This is Taylor Kelly with your morning traffic update… and we are going down!”
----
Tommy isn’t even supposed to be here. He’s not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot and he owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor. Tommy was too kind to tell him to fuck off, though, he’s pretty sure those two words will leave his mouth the next time he sees Trent’s face. 
“Tommy, what’s going on?” Taylor shouts. She’s holding onto the seat belt around her like her life depends on it—and it does, but Tommy isn’t about to tell her that. 
“Some kind of engine malfunction. Does Trent keep this thing in good condition?” Tommy asks. 
“How am I supposed to know?!” He really hoped for a more confidence-inducing answer. “I’m pretty sure he likes this thing more than me if that says anything!” 
“It does,” Tommy mutters, though he knows Taylor can hear him through the radio. Trent always talked about his crush on the redhead and how he would drop everything if she agreed to date him. Unfortunately, Tommy now knows he’s not exactly her type—no man is—so he thinks he’ll have to break the news sooner rather than later. 
“Are we falling?! Why does it feel like we’re falling?!” Taylor screams, panicked gasps following in quick succession. 
“I’m going to do my best to land, okay? There’s a baseball field below us, and if all goes to plan, we’ll land safely and you’ll have one hell of a story,” Tommy relays. 
Taylor laughs humorlessly into the radio. “And if it doesn’t?” 
“It’ll still be one hell of a story,” he declares. 
Then he focuses on saving their lives. 
The baseball field is immense and empty enough that he doesn’t have to worry about collateral damage from the landing, but he realizes quickly it won’t be that easy. Every single control he usually manipulates with ease shakes under his grip, and no matter how much pressure he puts on the cyclic, there’s no tilting his way in the right direction. 
He gets the machine as close to the ground as possible and prays that’s enough. 
All he remembers is the blades getting louder, a metallic screeching, and a terror-filled shriek, then everything goes dark. 
“Tommy? Can you hear me?” 
“I think he’s coming to!” 
“Kinard, open those baby blues for us!” 
When Tommy blinks to consciousness, he feels like he’s been hit by a truck. 
“Nope, just crashed a helicopter,” an unfamiliar voice says. He sees the blur of a few hands reaching out to slap the man, and when he follows the arms, he thinks he must be dreaming. 
“Wilson? Han?” Tommy’s voice is almost hoarse and he wonders how terrified Taylor was of his warning screams—
Taylor. 
He jolts up as best as he can but Hen and Chimney hold him down before he can go too far. The pain that radiates through his chest knocks the breath out of him and he falls horizontal once more, clutching his stomach in pain. He breathes quickly and shallowly, as any attempts to fill his lungs result in sharp twinges of pain. Someone he doesn’t recognize—the voice from before—places an oxygen mask over his face. 
“She’s fine. Not a scratch on her,” the man soothes. Tommy likes the sound of his voice. He stops trying to escape his old teammates’ grasp and instead, angles his head back to connect eyes with the unknown man. 
He’s a boy, really. Looks at least a decade younger than Tommy, but that doesn’t stop the rush of attraction that seeps through him. The man’s hair is mussed up like someone has run their hands through it—Tommy wants to run his hands through it—and he’s wearing his turnout coat unbuttoned like the picture of casuality. Tommy’s not sure he’s ever seen someone wear the uniform with such confidence and such… sweetness. He’s squinting his eyes from the sun though Tommy still notices a few small pink patches surrounding his eyebrow that match the color of his unfairly kissable lips. 
“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hen decides. Tommy knows he’s been caught when he recognizes the sarcasm in her voice. Hen’s always been an observant one. He can practically hear her eyes roll as she makes quick introductions. “Tommy, this is Evan Buckley. Buck, Tommy Kinard.”
“From Air Ops,” Evan says eagerly. Tommy’s stomach flips at the acknowledgment. How has he never heard of Evan before? “What are you doing flying with Taylor Kelly?”
“Slumming it with Skywitness Traffic, Tommy? I can’t believe I saved your life for this,” Chimney teases. Tommy smacks him on his nearest body part and takes the oxygen mask off of his face. 
As if on instinct, Evan reaches to put it back, and their hands brush and linger. 
Tommy hates to be cliche, but they’re lucky the ambulance doesn’t blow up when the sparks fly through the flowing oxygen. Actually, being touched by Evan Buckley seems like a hell of a way to go…
“Was helping out an old army friend,” Tommy explains. “Can’t let L.A. fall subject to bad traffic patterns, can I?” 
Evan laughs, and Tommy’s stomach does a weird fluttering he hasn’t felt in ages. 
“Guess you regret that favor, huh?” Chimney jokes. 
“Not anymore,” Tommy mutters just loud enough for Evan to hear. 
Tommy makes sure to maintain eye contact and only barely stops himself from winking at the poor kid. He’s blushing like crazy, redness spreading up from underneath his high neckline and overtaking his adorable cheeks. From the stillness around them, Tommy doesn’t think this is usual behavior, and he can’t help but feel a little satisfied about that. He chances a glance at Hen and Chimney who are both staring at Evan like he’s lost his damn mind. It takes everything in Tommy not to giggle—both because of embarrassment and the fact he might actually pass out from pain if he does.
“So, what’s the verdict, Evan?” Tommy asks.
The adorable man blinks a few times before glancing up at Hen and Chimney, who Tommy is very aware are the ones with the answer to his question. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy sees Hen gesturing for Evan to answer himself. 
“U-Um, I’m sure you feel ten-tenderness in your ribs so that’s… gotta be looked at.” Evan shakes his head like he’s all too aware of his stammering, but Tommy couldn’t be more smitten. “You lost consciousness so H-Hen—she checked for any issues with your eyes but nothing abnormal. How’s your head?” 
Without thinking, Tommy replies, “Would you like to find out?” 
There’s a chorus of: “Tommy!” “Get a room!” “Jesus Christ!” “Oh my god!” 
All of which are ignored by both of them. 
Instead, Evan tilts his head and smiles—it would’ve knocked Tommy off his feet if he were standing. 
“I think I just might,” Evan agrees. 
“Oh, you two are made for each other,” Hen turns toward Chimney, “how did we not see that?”
“Buck likes guys?!” Chimney says instead. Evan blushes even deeper and Tommy’s glad that he’s not on a heart monitor for all to see it skip a beat. “No, I’m done with this. To answer your question, Tommy, you may have an acute head injury and you definitely have some broken ribs. We’ve gotta get you to the hospital so if you’re done flirting…” 
“What if I’m not?” Tommy argues, just to rile Chimney up a little more. Tommy always enjoyed that—misses it, really. “What if I want to see Evan blush a little more?” 
“Oh my god,” Buck mumbles. He hides his face in his hands, but Tommy can still see the smile lines between the cracks in his fingers. “Hen, get him out of here.” 
“Got it, Buckaroo,” she agrees, shrugging at Tommy playfully. 
“I didn’t get your number!” Tommy shouts as best as he can with presumably broken ribs. He knows they’ll hurt a lot more the second he focuses on them, but how can he focus on anything but Evan? 
“118.” 
With that, Hen shuts the doors and Tommy sighs the happiest sigh he can muster. 
“Oh, he’s—” Tommy doesn’t even have the words, but Hen seems to understand.
“You’re in trou-ble, Kinard.” She clicks her tongue. 
And Tommy’s never been so excited by the prospect. 
(Chimney derails any further conversation with a line of consciousness that starts with, “Okay, since when do both Tommy and Buck like men?! How did I miss this?!”) 
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stromuprisahat · 2 days
Text
"I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream."
Siege and Storm- Chapter 15
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Oh nein! Mal has issues! With consequences of his actions he should be grateful for, and his girl not sharing every waking thought with him, when her worst worries spring from his most hated topics- the Darkling and her role in politics.
And Alina once again feels responsible for his feelings.
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Yeah, this would have a bit more weight, if Alina didn't do it only for appearances' sake. Or if she granted the position due to merit, not random pick of what she views as the lowest low. Or if she didn't continue speaking as if she were a narrator of wildlife documentary, describing a new species of animal that just appeared.
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Not necessarily, but it's one of Alina's less far-fetched deductions.
Aleksander could've been aware of David's fascination with Morozova's work. He could've picked the most skilled in bonework or the one most experienced in forging amplifiers- they're supposed to be rare, so not many Fabricators will have that.
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*mumbles* And somehow we're to believe this pragmatic man chose to follow Alina, because... ? She's the good one, or whatever?!
*chants* Double agent Kaminsky, double agent Kaminsky!
Alina: Why would you want to kill this man! How horrible! At least question him first!
She would make a delightful morally flexible character, if she were acknowledged as such, and embracing that quality.
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Says who? Zoya?
He KeEpS mE So BuSy!
Saints, Alina, you can't believe everything people say about themselves!
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Alina: I'm not sure my three months of training are enough, but I can do like two things with my powers, so let's focus on increasing them further AND on the mythical forbidden art that created my goal no. 1 in the first place. I bet nothing can go wrong...
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Only signing? Not reading to get into picture? And who prepares them?!
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Bureaucracy, baby!
Welcome to responsibility!
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I would sympathize with Alina much more, if she showed genuine interest in those she doesn't know. If her motivation weren't merely "Do the opposite of (what I think) the Darkling did". I she truly believed in her own philosophy.
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Shocking!
People forced to sit next to half-strangers they're not used to interact with, create unpleasant atmosphere!
My work experience considered- you're lucky there's no visible enmity- you could've made the wrong people sit next to each other and tableware could've ended up in wrong bodyparts.
Also: How is Nadia sitting next to Marie? I thought breaking up already existing friend groups was a point of this whole exercise.
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They're not gifts, Nikolai. They're just your father's property, but let's remember the Darkling didn't wait for the Queen to request a specific one's service, and turned it into a gesture of his own thoughtfulness. Fuck his strategems!
Alina's misplaced sensibilities are incredibly frustrating.
She wants to lead Second Army, but not order them, not assign them tasks directly, because that would somehow make her a bad person, instead of efficient leader.
What if no one will volunteer? What if weak, incompetent Squallers will? You don't look at special assignment and think- Yeah, whoever wants to do it... You PICK the most capable person with both sufficient skills AND suitable personality.
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Awwww!
Poor granny deserves an Oscar!
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Text
This might be a completely unpopular opinion (and it also might be wrong because it’s been A MINUTE, to say the least) but I hate the shadow and bone Netflix series. Hate it. Despise it. I remember watching half of the first episode and internally dying. They did the books so wrong.
Unfortunately just the mixing of the plot lines wasn’t the main issue for me.
They ruined Nina.
I have nothing against the actress who played Nina, not her portrayal if she was a stand-alone character in the Netflix series, apart from the books.
But Nina is MY GIRL. She’s not a flower she’s every blossom in the forest blooming at once. She is a tidal wave. She is overwhelming. She likes food. She loves waffles. She’s a flirt. She’s big, she’s loud, she isn’t proper.
When I was a youngling reading SOC for the first time, I read about Nina and felt okay for the first time in a while. Maybe the first time in my life. Because you could be beautiful and big. You could be graceful in battle but not when you’re plummeting. You can suck at the delicate art of tailoring.
You can say ‘I do not want to see that bird’ when someone says ‘You’re light as a feather’ without the stab in the heart.
I love Nina Zenik so much, I feel like she doesn’t get enough love in the fandom. And then again, I haven’t been active in the fandom for very long. I may be completely off-pace here.
But I love Nina Zenik, and I wanted to see my happy, shameless, loud and provocative girl on screen.
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shebsart · 2 days
Note
iirc you once said you liked subtle romance are there any movies or books that fit that description you can recommend?
hii sorry i forgot to answer this!
Please do recommend me stuff with similar elements, especially movies and books :))
I don't remember what I said this about but yes! The levels of subtlety might differ but I also really like when romance between two people is expressed in a non-direct way.
Some of these are not romance-focused but have a small part of it in them, some that I can think of for now: -Las Acacias (2011) - saw this one recently and some might call it boring but i was super invested in the minimal-dialog comunication between the two characters
-Leon Morin, Priest (1961) - i think my friends are sick of me talking about this one but you just HAVE to give this a try if you're into repression and melancholy in romance. Also hot priest <3
-I Dream in Another Language (2017) - it has magical realism! it has resentment! it has old people! Really really really reccomend this one, its a fave!
-Moonlight (2016) - not particularly a romance film entirely but it has a very touching moment of confrontation.. i need to revisit this one
-Fallen Leaves (2023) - anything by Karusimaki can be called subtle romance i think but i especially like this one :) The tone is very light and i like the northern humor
-The Lunchbox (2013) - also kind of slow but full of nice little moments
-Compartment No.6 (2021) - starts out as somewhat annoying (at least for me) but i warmed up to the characters later on. I like watching outcast people bonding over the story :)
-Phantom Thread (2017)- when you find the perfect someone who can handle your issues in their own unique way :3
-Amour (2012) - A different approach to love between an old couple. Theres one scene in this one that just makes me really sad but i wont say which.
-Love Letter (1995) , Brief Encounter(1945) , Frantz (2016) , The Appartment (1960) , Patterson (2016), Pain and Glory (2019) , In the Mood for Love (2000), Happy Together (1997), Portrait of a Lady on Fire(2019) , Before Trilogy (but especially Before Sunset, the second one), Last Life in the Universe (2003), A New Leaf (1971), Silence of the Lambs (listen it IS romance to me.), Sabrina (1954)- i put this here solely for the boat scene :)
I don't read many romance books but here are some that have romance i like:
-Stardust
-The Queen's Thief series(oof course :3 especially books 2,3 and 5 are my faves)
-Spinning Silver (has 2 seperate couples but i like one more than the other :3)
-Persuasion (by jane austen)
-Howl's Moving Castle (a fave!)
-The Mirror Visitor series
-Keturah and Lord Death (idr this one very well but it's a death and the maiden theme and pretty short!) , Curse of Chalion and it's sequel Paladin of Souls have some slowburn in them, Eyes of a Blue Dog (its a very unique short story by gabriel garcia marquez) , Chang ge Xing (manga)
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ashdreams2023 · 1 day
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Hello again! I was wondering if you still do requests and if so, can I request a Severus x reader but platonic? Like we've all read Sev being like a guardian of sorts to students but what if reader is like the prof that cares for Sev when he was a student? Like Severus' favorite teacher is reader cause not only is she smart and teaches well but she has a soft spot for Sevy and is one of the profs that punishes the marauders every time she catches them bothering Snape. Snape can see her as a mother figure that even up to the point that Sev actually became a teacher he still goes to her for his problems and she just babies him lol. (Reader was once the youngest teacher to teach in Hogwarts before Snape took that role)
Alright alright gonna do this now!
Platonic Severus snape x fem reader
All my respect
Severus had a rocky relationship with adults from a very young age that’s for sure, his home life and neighborhood left little in his faith for grown ups.
It was a rocky two first years when he couldn’t even trust his head of house let alone another professor, he felt uncomfortable if he had to seek his head of house for help, he preferred to suffer in silence, even if it meant having to sit in aching bruises from his bullies until he learned how to brew a cooling balm.
No one did a thing to genuinely help him, no one, he hated how everyone overlooked him, how They saw him just as a weird kid who others avoid for no reason but that they didn’t understand him.
That continued until his third year, after a brutal beating from Sirius and his wand almost snapping in half, he remembers it very clearly he was sitting in the hall feeling the entire world was against him.
Then you came, young looking and worried, at the time you were only 28 years of age, he knew you were the new hired substitute professor for charms.
He expected to be scolded and sent to his dorm but instead you kneeled down and without even asking a question tended to his injuries self, he flinched when you first touched his face but that didn’t stop you from applying some healing balm and checking his medical chart with your wand.
He was speechless to say the least, no one ever cared this much about him…even his mother…
"Tell me who did this to you and I don’t want any lies little boy" you tried to sound firm but he could tell you were still panicked about his state and what you saw on his medical charm, he was a scrawny malnourished boy "you can tell me, you’re not gonna be in trouble I promise"
Next thing he knows points have been deducted from the lions and he’s all healed up. Although that still didn’t make him trust you that easily.
But it kept happening, you stopped whoever was bothering him, looked out for him when he seemed a little off and much more, you didn’t rest until you got the marauders suspended from hogwarts for a whole semester because of that idiot and deadly prank.
You scolded him still but always with a gentle hand checking if he’s hurt or hiding an injury like he sometimes did.
"One of these days you will kill me with a heart attack!"
"They started it!"
Heck you even helped him get some rare plants for his potion making and recommended him to higher education, even after he messed up and used that awful name, you believed him, you saw the good in him and stood by his side.
He can thank you a million times but he still feels like it isn’t enough, even now at 35 of age, you’re 50 and still working in the same school.
He comes to you for guidance, he has tea with you every other day and you sit there smiling fondly as he complains and rants about his day, just like the little boy you once knew.
"With all my respect to you mother but these kids are insufferable" it takes him a minute to realize what he just said and he blushes crazily but you chuckle.
"Oh please, you’re the son I never birthed"
Severus sighs still blushing slightly from embarrassment "Isn’t it too late for me to call my professor mum?" He used sarcasm to hide his embarrassment.
You sipped your tea and leaned back on your chair "I remember when you were just a little lad, sneaking around to brew your outrageous potions and getting burned then coming back to me with a pout and tear stained eyes demanding I give you my cooling balm"
He smirked crossing his arms "I can make it myself now, I don’t need to be babied anymore"
"Oh? So you don’t your favorite tea cup?" She laughed softly.
Severus frowned dropping his arms, his tea cup, the one you bought specially for him because the design reminded you of a cauldron, it was childish and looked out of place in your neatly organized cabin with all the good China sets.
But he still went for it, he wouldn’t pick that one round tea cup and take it for himself, you would tease him about needing a grown up one but he would defend himself saying he would do just fine with this one.
"Well, good to know some things just don’t change sevy"
"Don’t call me that I’m a grown adult! I’m taller than you!"
"Whatever helps you sleep at night sevy" fighting you was useless, he should’ve known better but he always felt light, he breathed out and let a small smile creep on his lips.
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donquixotehomura · 2 days
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Donquixote Doflamingo x Reader His Type
Master List
this kinda got away from me lol, it's also messy, Nsfw part warning I marked it tho no worries, the kinda trigger warnings that accompany Doffy apply but not all of them, also blood and death not Doffy or reader..... ish. as always please tell me if you find any mistakes and to address my hiatus I got sick then busy then sick again it was a rough ride lol
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Feisty, headstrong, bratty, Loyal, obedient, smart, supportive, sympathetic, insane.
SFW AKA FLUFFY
He likes how loyal you are to him, how nothing and no one will make you betray him, how you’d defy the whole world for him and how you’d die for him.    He likes that you’re not with him because he’s a god or king, not because of his wealth or influence, not because he’s strong or a conqueror, you love his strength yes, but you love more than just that, you love all of him.   
He likes how nice you are to him, how you always listen to him and how you help him, how you don’t pity him for what happened but your reaction is just sadness because he suffered, it’s out of your pure feelings of love towards him which baffled him for a long time when he found out after he was done suspecting you had ulterior motives.    It takes him a while to get used to this and accept it, especially how you encourage him to open up and that it’s not weakness to have problems and it’s part of being alive, how he can be vulnerable with you without consequences.    If he just wants to talk, you’ll listen attentively and it doesn’t matter how long after if he brings it up again you’ll remember everything, if he wants feedback you’ll give him feedback and advice.    He’s conflicted because you taught him it’s OK to be vulnerable and show weakness to you, that he doesn’t have to be strong the whole time, especially that he wanted to portray himself as strong for you to show he can protect you and that he’s the best, that you won’t find anyone like him, so you don’t ever leave him, you assure him you won’t ever leave and he believes you.   Your love for him persists even tho you know he’s not as strong as he portrays himself, and that he has these *human* feelings, how he’s still tortured by nightmares of his past, how sleep escapes him on many nights and when he does sleep he almost always jolts awake in terror struggling to calm his heartbeat and control his breathing, how when that happens you don’t comment on it and just drag him into your arms and never acknowledge the nightmare waiting for him to do it when he’s ready, how you stop him from drowning out the terror with alcohol and give him an alternative, talking about random things asking about what he’s going to do tomorrow even tho you know his schedule or even read to him or tell him a story, but you never judge him no  matter what you never look at him any less and never leave or betray him.   How you still look at him with the same admiration and love you always did and even more, he questions if you’re sound of mind to be so genuinely in love with someone like him, he knows his flaws and wonders if you don’t, he asks you once and you just tell him that you know and acknowledge his flaws and you love him, flaws and all.
He realizes how much he loves you and that scared him, he avoided you for a couple of days till you basically pursued him and sat him down to talk asking if something was troubling him and if it's you, he doesn't confess outright but he makes it very clear, and he's thankful for your perceptiveness because he didn't have to say it for you to understand how he feels and how confessing won't be easy at least for a while.
In the end he hates that you're loyal and love him enough that you're willing to die for him, he doesn't want to lose you, just thinking about it puts him in pain.
NSFW
He likes his toys obedient and serving, however if you want to be more than just a toy you have to have your own sense of self and not just a mindless fool, he likes feisty and bratty, he likes his partner to have her own sense of self while still being loyal to him, he likes someone who has their own thoughts however if you always question him that’ll annoy him, there’s a delicate balance, he also likes it when you tease him and are bratty, there’s nothing he enjoys more than punishing your teasing till you’re begging for more or for him to slow down depending on which way he decided to punish you either way in the end he’ll be fucking the brat out of you till you can no longer think.    His queen can be as bratty as she wants, and she gets everything she wants, however all actions have consequences, the brattier you are the more he’ll punish you, his punishments are pure blissful torture.    Nothing turns him on more than seeing you be sadistic, killing enemies brutally? Turns him on, getting covered in blood in the process? Sends shivers down his spine and straight to his cock, torturing a traitor or enemy for information? He knows for a fact that you're secretly watching him and can see his straining boner especially when you throw him a knowing glance and smiling teasingly while standing over the poor soul that’s suffering, same goes for you for all the above, especially when he uses his devil fruit how the strings can be so dangerous and sharp enough to cut through anything but he has enough control that he can make them dull enough that he can use them on you without leaving a single cut or a few scratches if he wishes, licking your blood also turns him on.    When you bite him during sex, that’s a privilege held by no other, he discovered he liked it when he was fucking you hard in an empty hallway in some base of an underworld dealer he was making a deal with and got bored and annoyed so during a break, he dragged you with him to an empty hallway pinned you to the wall and told you to be quiet as he quickly pulled down your pants and his fingers found your wetness you lack of panties and being already wet wasn’t lost on him, soon enough he was balls deep inside you while you muffled your moans by burying your face in his neck, his shirt jacket and coat having already been discarded at this point, he never slowed down even as you both heard voices going up and down the other hallways, as you felt yourself about to come you clung harder to him while he encouraged you and also teased you that you’ll get caught if you’re too loud, you came hard and instinctively bit down on his shoulder so hard you drew blood, the sudden unexpected feeling made him follow you emptying himself inside you, quickly realizing what you did you went to apologize but before a word left you, you heard him laughing quietly in your ear, looking at you with that usual grin was an immediate relief what he said next shocked you “so my feisty kitten likes to bite fufufufu ...I’ll keep that in mind for later tonight” he finished his sentence by kissing your red stained lips tasting his blood on them, good news is his clothes covered your handiwork and yours covered his, otherwise everyone would have known what went down a few feet away from them  
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secsicornerwriter · 2 days
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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
I edited the original text and wrote what I wish he'd said to me, lol. Enjoy! 😂
Please be nice to me and let's interact, so I can feel human emotions once in a while. Thank you! 🖤
Genderfluid (she/he/they)
bi
18+ obv
I mostly write about: size kink, daddy kink, age gap (younger one has to be at least 16 years old), overstimulation, praise kink, degradation kink, monster x human, primal play, fluff, Dom x sub, Daddy x little play (younger one has to be at least 16 years old), incest (the younger one has to be at least 16 years old), Dom/Daddy x brat, breath play, F x M, F x F, M x M, F x M x M, F x F x M, trans characters, NB characters, monogamous relationships, polyamorous relationships (the correct abbreviation is "polyam" not "poly". Please, remember that: I'm tired of having to explain it to stubborn people over and over) + I'll be writing about everything I feel like writing, really. 😂 Remember that kinks and real life aren't the same thing. Also: other people also have traumas to get through, and reading/writing about this stuff helps them cope. So, don't like? Don't interact. Have a good day.
If you wish for the Reader of the writing idea you send me in the Ask Section to have male pronouns, well: you just have to ask! I want this blog to be a safe space for every gender! ✨ 🖤
Italian is my first language (born & raised).
I like to think I'm fluent in English but idk, you tell me that.
MY FANFICS (ENG)
Simon "Ghost" Riley
MORNING SEX WITH GHOST
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quinnxxx · 23 hours
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Thinking about how Choso eats you out like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get to
warnings: pussy eating, porn without plot kinda, erm I think that’s it. slight dirty talk. half- proofread. just drabbles. enjoy? or don’t. Lemme know if I missed any
He’d come back home from work a little while ago, and seeing you work on something on your laptop, your reading glasses on and hair in a messy bun-
That along with some exhaustion as well as some stress he needed to burn was enough to take you right then and there.
Choso was always a needy man, very clingy and sensitive. And if there was one thing he couldn’t go a day without, it was the sweet, sweet taste of your cunt.
You don’t remember exactly how it happened, but now your sweatpants are off, somewhere on the floor. Along with your panties. He had your legs pinned against your chest tightly, you couldn’t move them even if you really wanted to.
Choso had felt shivers the immediate second he saw your pretty cunt. He couldn’t help but lick a nice stripe up your wetness, groaning at the taste as you involuntarily twitched. And now you were the one shivering.
“Missed you…” he mumbles against your clit, which makes you squirm a bit. He places a kiss on the sensitive bud and your feet wobble in the air, unable to move your legs. “Cho…” you breathe out, already feeling dizzy.
“Mhm, I know. I’ll make you feel good, mm?”
You nod, and maybe it came out a little too eager because he chuckles softly before diving in.
You can’t help the mewl that escapes your lips once he delves his tongue into your wetness. With his nose prodding at your clit, his tongue slides in and out of your sweet cunt, slurping up your juices nonstop. His tongue swirling inside your gummy walls.
Once his teeth graze against your clit, you think you might just lose it.
Your hand flies down to grip onto his hair, eliciting a groan out of himself. He always liked when you grabbed ahold of his hair like this, almost pulling his mouth closer to your pussy. Wanting- no, needing more stimulation. It made him feel like you were in control, even at a time like this.
And come on, we can all agree that Choso enjoys being a bottom at least sometimes.
Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape and you try your best to avoid looking directly at him. Because he’s just staring at you. Either that or just closing his eyes, enjoying the taste. His meal, per say.
You couldn’t ever look him straight in the eyes, it was still embarrassing even after all this time.
Your legs were squirming and wobbling, shaking from the pure pleasure. It was overwhelming. Like you were about to explode.
“Ch-Cho- f-fuck… fuck!”
Choso smiled against your cunt almost every time you’d murmur curses or his name, or both.
He had moved to sucking directly at your clit and you felt tears prick at your eyes. It was all beginning to be just a little too much. But in a good way?
He sucks hard, gripping tighter on your thighs in your attempt to get away.
Your breaths got shallower and more rapid, head thrashing from left to right on your pillow beneath you.
“Fu-uck!” You practically scream. Thank god you didn’t have thin walls.
Your grip on his hair had tightened significantly, beginning to subtly ride his face, embarrassed you might come off as too eager or needy. But Choso thought it was hot, how you were so desperate to take everything he was giving you, because he was willing to give it over and over, as many times as you wanted.
And besides, the grip you had on his hair was also really hot too. At least to him it was.
“Mmm…” he groans against your clit. “Come on, you can do it. Cum for me, princess.”
And if you had a nickel for every time you came right after him saying ‘princess’ to you, you’d probably have at least a dollar. And it was about to be a dollar and five cents.
You couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut, forcing the small tears from out of your eyes as you let out an almost pornographic scream. And I mean scream. You were almost certain you were seeing the pearly white gates of heaven, a place only Choso Kamo’s mouth could take you, before you were cumming all over his tongue. He wasted absolutely zero time as he slurped it all up so eagerly. You were twitching and jerking your hips wildly. Because damn did you cum easily when it was him.
Your grip on his hair had slowly loosened as you came down from your high.
But Choso kept lapping at your folds eagerly, causing the little bit of sanity left in your head to vanish. You had to pry his head away to get him to stop, he was just so addicted.
“Cho… please… I- can’t…”
Once his head finally lifted up from your cunt, and you couldn’t help but blush once you saw his face. Completely drenched in your slick from his nose down to his chin.
“Choso… you’re…”
You couldn’t even get out a full sentence at this point, partly from the aftershocks of your orgasm, and partly from the view of your slick all over his face. It was almost embarrassing, but- and you’d never admit this to yourself or him- it was kinda kinky.
He licks his lips and you feel your cunt squeeze around nothing. Around what you half wish was his mouth. Still slurping and swirling inside and around your pretty-
“I’ll run a bath.” Choso interrupted your thoughts.
“Y-yeah. That- uh… yeah.”
He chuckles, standing up, using his fingers to wipe the slick off his face. You almost moan as you see him then lick the slick off of his fingers. You can see a quite prominent wet spot on his jeans, but you don’t say anything about it. He walks into the bathroom, and you start to giggle once you hear the bath water turn on.
He comes back out a moment later, his pants off and underwear assumingly changed, in his boxers and nothing else. There is a bulge in his boxers, and you flush a little again.
He crawls up the bed towards your face, and kisses you softly, and you can’t help but moan as you taste yourself on his tongue.
Choso snuggles up next to you, resting his head on your chest, drawing little shapes into your semi- sensitive thighs and stomach.
After a couple minutes he murmurs into your ear, sitting up. “Baths ready.”
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tsxmu · 2 days
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My thoughts on Levi's up coming bad boy one shot and his love life. :3
Now personally! I feel like he shouldn't have a love interest in the oneshot. Not because like I don't want to share him or stuff like that, but because that would kinda throw away all the levihan hints they gave us. Hell, it's most likely canon.
I understand that it's set during Levi's early childhood, teenage years and early adulthood but that would still kinda ruin the whole premise of Levi and how he lived. It's quite literally shown he didn't have any interest in anybody other than furlan and isabel, they were his only family. I doubt he'd find himself a crush down there.
The underground was a time where the only thoughts in Levi's mind was to survive. It was no place to fall in love and shit like that, given how in the manga for no regrets, even when given the choice to have a woman or anything from some man's store, he prefers taking something (specifically tea) from the store after winning the arm wrestling match.
Link to it::
Next, if Levi were to have some sort of love interest or crush during his youth, I feel like it would at least be mentioned once, it could be when he was still with furlan and isabel, but there's nothing. It could also be a situation like erwin's and marie's where nile got to her first because erwin chose humanity. But it seems unlikely. Erwin, still, cares about marie and talks about her. And if Levi liked somebody, given his big ol heart, surely he'd ask about this love interest at least once right??
If anything, romantically, Levi quite literally only has eyes for one person, which is hange. I'd argue it's canon. Levi is constantly worried about them, during countless battles together, he first thought of hange and their safety, he makes sure hange keeps themselves alive, he listens to hange and their hours long rambles, he even asked moblit, in the short story, to keep hange safe because he's the only one around them 24/7.
I get that he can have a first love, but he was feared and hated upon during his youth by the people in the underground, I highly doubt some woman is going to find that hot. Levi was dangerous, and people in the undergrounds knew that, yeah sure some people still fought them but humans are like that. Always biting more than they can chew.
I firmly believe Levi's first and last love was hange. I'm sorry to the eruri shippers but I see their relationship as only blinded loyalty from Levi's side and comradery/deep friendship due to their years in the military together. But at the end, erwin wanted him in the beginning for Levi's strength.
Hange on the other hand, always viewed Levi like a person, not a tool, not a thug, nor a person to be afraid of. Levi's first normal interaction above ground was with hange and how casually they greeted him, furlan and isabel while the rest of the corps were still weary of them.
There are countless scenes with him and hange, countless.
I'd say Levi and Hange have the kind of love and bond in the manga that nobody else can have. Not even eren and mikasa.
Hange and Levi's relationship was built on years of comradery and trust. They know each other well and only have each other. Even when erwin was alive, Levi knew more about hange than he knew about erwin, so much so that he knew how they knocked. Now, we can assume he knows erwin's knock too, but we've only been shown to see him recognize hange's knock. The two literally talk telepathically for gods sake!!! They just look at each other and understand! I don't remember seeing anybody else having that deep of a bond.
After reclaiming wall Maria, Levi was always by hange because they're all he has left and he's usually by their left side because hange can no longer see from that eye, it's a disadvantage and it anything were to go past them or attack them, it'd be from the left and Levi knows that, that's why he places himself to their left whenever possible.
Even during the end, he shows hange emotions that he's never shown anybody else. He's said things to them that nobody else has seen. He quite literally hands over his heart and gives it to hange to keep. He's seen holding back tears and holding onto the hand that last touched hange, knowing they'd never return back to him.
And even after that, in every shot of after the war, he's always thinking of hange, whether it's looking at the plane that they were last in, or the lollipops, or the glasses he holds. He's always thinking of them because they're all he had.
I feel like both Ackerman's chose to stay single because they lost their brunettes. They lost the one they loved most in the line of duty and will never move on from it because they know they're soulmates.
Both ackerman's wanted a peaceful life with their brunette but they couldn't. Not in this lifetime at least.
Which is why I humbly believe having a short love interest for the sake of nothing in the bad boy's manga would kind of ruin all that Levi has! It fits if he has only one love and even that he can't have because life is just that cruel. A short love interest would be useless and would only cause heated arguments between shippers and even send death threats to the creator, so for the sake of everybody, I sure to do hope there's no love interest for Levi in his one shot. We already know who his soulmate is, there's no reason to drag another character in just so the fandom can hate it for a reason as silly as "Levi's inlove with them."
To anybody who read all of this, thank you so much (❁´◡`❁). That means alot!!!
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bots-and-cons · 2 days
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Since requests say open
Can I get knockout and Shockwave with werewolf reader (not the transforms only on a full moon kind but the basically always able to transform, also not very scary just fluffy creature)
A/N: I basically went with the twilight type of werewolf (or at least what I remember of them), because that’s the only “fluffy, not very scary” one I can think of, also they’re biiiiiig. The reader is their partner/s/o so they’ve got a romantic relationship
~Shockwave~
•Shockwave is probably more interested in the whole werewolf thing on a biological/scientific level
•If you let him, he’d like to scan you, take blood samples, and other stuff like that
•He’s just interested in how the whole transformation thing works for you, because the mechanics of it seem way different than for his kind
•You sometimes sleep in the lab, just on some counter, in your wolf form
•Shockwave is aware that humans pet dogs, and the dogs enjoy it, so he’s wondering if the same would apply to you
•So one time you’re asleep, he starts giving you some scratches behind your ear
•You seem to quite enjoy it, and he’s absolutely enamored with how happy you seem to be when he pets you
•He doesn’t really do it often, because he doesn’t think it’s necessary or a thing you would need, but he does still think it’s nice 
•Shockwave thinks it’s odd that you don’t seem to match much of the lore he ends up reading about, because you’re very much a real thing
•You explain to him that most people don’t actually think werewolves are real and that most of the stuff online is just flat-out fanfiction
•Shockwave learns that he shouldn’t believe everything that’s on the internet
•Because he asks some very weird and uncomfortable questions based on his online research
•You’re just like “No, no no no, no no, no nope”
•Shockwave doesn’t really see you as a normal human, though you’re the only human he knows so he doesn’t really have a benchmark for a “normal human”
•He thinks of you as a werewolf, which you’re not offended by, because that’s what you are
~Knockout~
•The first time you transformed into a wolf in front of him, he was pretty freaked out
•In his (very loud) words “How the scrap did you turn into a dog?!”
•You walk up to him and bark at him playfully, and he thinks you’re the cutest thing ever
•Then he just basically starts baby-talking to you, because “puppy!”
•You of course can’t answer, because wolves can’t talk, even in the case of werewolves
•It’s honestly a bit weird, because if you showed a human this side of you, they would run away screaming, but Knockout’s reaction is “puppy” because you’re basically the size of a normal dog for him
•There’s a sort of “magic aspect” to this that your clothes become a part of you during the transformation, so you’re clothed when you turn back
•He of course has a ton of questions, main ones being “What?” and “How?”
•You’ve been werewolf since birth, but the traits only started presenting themselves when you were about 15
•You mostly find the “puppy” comment to be funny, but it ends up becoming a pet name that Knockout uses for you all the time
•It grows on you, but you weren’t that fond of the name at first
•You have to transform every once in a while, or you start getting this itchy kind of feeling and it starts driving your crazy
•You also just like running in the woods and feeling free so Knockout bridges you to places around the world where you can run
•Sometimes you like sleeping on Knockout’s chest or lap, and he likes to pet you, which you enjoy as well
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