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i lived
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“darling girl” / “sweet girl” / “pretty girl”
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a clever mind is fatal
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goth prom fits!!!
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at the goth prom owo
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Mentally I am putting my men in these
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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, omega reader, 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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lorelune · 19 hours
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alone again;
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lorelune · 20 hours
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🌷 SPRING FEVER: MASTERLIST 🌷
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— welcome to the running masterlist for the SPRING FEVER collab <3 enjoy some omegaverse fanfics across various fandoms within the reader insert niche!!
this is an open collab! if you're interested in joining, check out the main post here for guidelines and instructions!
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honkai star rail:
💦 —@owlespresso - the golden ivy which clings —luocha x reader
🎀 —@owlespresso - the red fruit which ripens —blade x reader
💦 —@owlespresso - luocha x reader x blade
🎀 —@lorelune - O4O —jing yuan x reader
💦 —@jingsyuans - jing yuan x reader
🎀 —@yinyuedijun - aventurine x reader
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haikyu!!
💦 —@54prowl - sakusa x reader
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jujutsu kaisen:
🎀 —@batteryeatery - can you help me, sensei? —gojo satoru x reader
💦 —@firein-thesky - affection's edge —getou suguru x reader
🎀 —@minnaci - gojo satoru x reader
💦 —@saintshigaraki- maki zenin x reader
🎀 —@forest-hashira- bunnies and bite marks —gojo satoru x reader x getou suguru
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baldur's gate 3:
💦 —@chiwhorei - halsin x reader
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my hero academia:
🎀 —@andypantsx3 - when i make you mine —todoroki shouto x reader
💦 —@mangostarjam - knot happening —bakugo katsuki x reader
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one piece:
🎀 —@petrichorium - shanks x reader
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demon slayer:
💦 —@jingsyuans - kyojuro rengoku x reader
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inuyasha:
🎀 —@undermine-the-instinct there is less good here (then i intend) —sesshomaru x reader
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genshin impact:
💦 —@chronosdawn - childe x reader
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lorelune · 20 hours
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Bunnies & Bite Marks
i was able to hop onto @lorelune's spring fever a/b/o event super last minute last night, so this is my entry for that! (technically i did finish this fic before midnight but i didn't have the energy to format it then, so it's going up now, haha). i apologize in advance bc this is definitely the filthiest thing i've ever written. i don't know where most of this came from (i think the boys possessed me and ghostwrote it tbh). i was enabled by aleks to put this on paper, so... thank him lol
read on ao3 here | wc: ~8.1k | cw: a/b/o dynamics/omegaverse, hybrid au (fox geto, bunny reader, bunny gojo), gn afab!reader (afab anatomy terms used), alpha geto, omega reader, omega gojo, established stsg, oral sex (reader receiving), threesome, multiple orgasms, knotting, biting/claiming, mating bonds, intersex omega (gojo has a penis & a vagina), unprotected sex, creampies, gojo has a praise kink & a degradation kink, a little bit of voyeurism, multiple discussions of consent, i'm pretty sure that's everything! 18+ only, ageless/blank blogs & minors dni.
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You were still trying to figure out how you’d ended up in this situation.
Growing up, your parents had warned you countless times about Big Bad Wolves, told you to watch out for their pointed lies and pointier teeth, but they’d never warned you about foxes and their silver tongues.
Now that you thought about it, your parents were probably being more metaphoric than you thought as a child, but it was a little late to come to that realization, seeing as you were already underneath a particularly sly fox and completely at his mercy.
But how were you supposed to not trust him, not fall for him? His dark eyes were so kind, his little smile so warm… and he’d had another bunny hanging off of him, inviting you to spend time with them, to get to know them. And somehow in just a few short months, you were coaxed into bed by that same welcoming bunny and kind fox.
A small tug at your ear brought you back to the present, and you blinked, looking up into those dark eyes, now a few shades darker with desire – hunger, your instincts told you, making your heart pound even faster in your ribcage.
“Where’d you go, little one? You left us for a second there.” Suguru’s voice was low and rumbling, but you could hear the genuine concern woven in with the lust that laced his tone.
“They zoned out because you’re taking so damn long,” Satoru retorted from behind you before you had a chance to say anything. He hugged you a bit closer to his chest, trailing his lips across your cheek as he murmured, “Maybe we’ll just have to start without him, hm? Who needs an alpha, anyways? They're just knotheads, after all.”
Despite his bravado, you could feel the way your fellow bunny’s heart rate picked up as you both watched Suguru for his reaction.
To his credit, Suguru’s composure was nearly unshakeable; the only outward reaction to Satoru’s half-threat was a slight twitch of one of his elegant black fox ears, and he cocked his head slightly. “Is that so?” he questioned, then looked away from Satoru to focus on you. “You can believe him if you want, little one, because I know you’ve never been with an alpha before, but you should know he doesn’t even believe that himself. You should hear the way he begs for my knot like a cheap whore, even when he’s not in heat.”
Satoru shuddered behind you, and a soft puff of air ghosted across your skin as his grip tightened further around your waist. You’d known he was aroused before he held you so tight, but now it was undeniable, his hard cock pressed against your back, and the size of it made you jump slightly; if he was that big as an omega, then what the fuck was Suguru hiding in his pants? You shuddered at the thought, and you couldn’t stop the hint of fear that tinged your scent.
Both men stopped then, detecting the change in your scent. They exchanged a glance, and Suguru’s entire demeanor softened as he spoke again, lowering himself so he no longer towered over you where you sat on the bed with Satoru. “Do you want to stop?” he asked quietly, tilting his head slightly. “We don’t have to go through with this if you’re not comfortable.”
“We won’t be upset,” Satoru added, lightly rubbing his thumb back and forth across your stomach in an attempt to soothe you. “If you’re not enjoying yourself, we’ll stop. Your comfort and pleasure are really important to us.” 
Though you knew they were expecting an answer, you could tell they would be patient with you, even if it took you hours to decide one way or the other. You hesitated, taking a few moments to really examine how you were feeling, both physically and emotionally. The fear you felt was undeniable, but it was strongly rivaled by your desire, your prey instincts warring with your human wants. 
And really, you knew you were safe with them, even if Suguru was a predator. His self control was stronger than anyone else you’d ever met, and even if he somehow did lose control of himself and begin to succumb to his instincts, you were certain Satoru would do everything he could to protect you; he was stubborn and aggressive, especially for an omega, and a prey animal hybrid on top of that. 
Feeling comforted by that knowledge, you once again met the alpha’s gaze. “I want this,” you confirmed. “I want you – both of you.” 
Almost before the words were fully out of your mouth, the smell of arousal grew thick in the air, so heavy it should have choked you, but really you couldn’t get enough of it. Suguru’s was more potent, but it just made his scent a little smokier. Satoru’s, on the other hand, was sharp, a burst of cinnamon against the syrupy sweetness of his usual scent. Everything combined was so heady, so overwhelming in the best way possible, that your eyes fluttered shut, and you bit your lip to keep from moaning out loud.
“Ah-ah, none of that,” Suguru chided, reaching up and squishing your cheeks together slightly until your bottom lip was no longer caught between your teeth. 
Your eyes opened again at the touch, your pupils blown wide as you gazed down at the alpha in front of you.
“We want to hear you, little one. How else are we supposed to know if we’re making you feel good?”
“Sugu likes it noisy,” Satoru added, leaning in to whisper in your ear. He trailed one hand down your stomach to your thigh, rubbing little circles on the soft flesh of your inner thigh with his thumb as he spoke. “You’ll see soon enough, but he’s a talker… loves when I talk, too. Loves when he fucks me dumb and all I can do is moan and whine and whimper, all because of him…”
Though the other bunny was speaking to you, both of you had your eyes locked on the fox, all of you waiting for someone else to move first. Your heart pounded in time with Satoru’s, your bodies finding an odd, instinctual sort of comfort in each other; two prey hybrids against one predator.
Said predator’s gaze was still locked on yours, his lips curling into a hungry smirk, now that he knew that you wanted him – wanted them – just as bad as they wanted you. He shrugged slightly at Satoru’s words, and he pushed himself up from where he’d knelt on the floor in front of you, once again towering over you. 
“Since you were so quick to insist that you didn’t need me,” he cooed, taking a step back from the bed. “Why don’t you two get started, hm? Get them ready for me, pretty boy.”
Before you even had time to fully process the alpha’s words, Satoru was moaning in your ear, then practically dragging you further up the bed with him. 
A rather undignified squeak of surprise escaped you at the movement, but you were too taken aback to try and fight it at all. Next thing you knew, you were on your back, staring up at Satoru with wide eyes. 
“You ready?” he asked, eyes glinting as he stared down at you.
“I, uh… ready for what, exactly?” You felt your cheeks burn with both arousal and embarrassment, your brain already feeling a little unfocused, and they hadn’t even touched you yet.
“Sex, duh,” he replied, but he couldn’t quite stifle the giggle that accompanied his words. The sound helped relax you a bit, and you smiled up at him.
“I’m pretty sure we’re wearing too many clothes to have sex,” you told him, a soft laugh escaping you, and he grinned, winking playfully at you.
“That we are, little bunny,” he agreed, tugging lightly on your ear. “But I’m gonna take care of that right now, don’t you worry.”
You wrinkled your nose at him, and it twitched a bit, the movement involuntary. Pulling your ear from his hold, you frowned up at him. “You’re a bunny too, y’know.”
“Ah, yes, good catch! I, however, am not small, in any sense of the word. So you’re my little bunny.” His smile sharpened into a smirk, and the sight, combined with the implications of his words and the outline of cock that had been pressed against you mere moments before, had heat stirring in your belly. 
When you offered no further comments of protests, Satoru got to work ridding you of your clothes, so quickly you were worried he might tear them in his haste to have you naked beneath him. By the time he reached your bra, though, you batted his hands away.
“I’ll do this part, if you ruin this I’ll be very upset with you.” The bra wasn’t anything especially fancy, but you still took care of it as best you could, because you liked the way it made you look. “Besides,” you added, reaching around to undo the clasps. “Don’t you also have to be naked for us to have sex?”
Satoru pulled his shirt over his head as you spoke, and he huffed quietly when it got stuck on his ears for a moment. He smirked at you again afterwards, though. “Hmm, not necessarily, no. But I’ll be nice and get naked anyways.”
You rolled your eyes at his words as you tossed your bra off to the side, presumably in the direction all your other clothes had ended up. As you settled back against the pillows, you went to cross your arms over your chest out of habit, but stopped when you caught Suguru staring at you. He said nothing, but his meaning was clear: there would be no hiding from either of them tonight, or ever. You were theirs now.
In just a few seconds, though, your view of the fox was interrupted by your fellow bunny, who looked like he was ready to go all night with you and completely ignore his partner sitting in the chair across the room. “Lay back and spread your legs for me,” he encouraged. “I’m dying to taste that pretty little pussy of yours.”
His words came as a shock, and you felt your face burning all over again. “You don’t, uh. I mean, you don’t have to do that. Really.” You pressed your knees together as you spoke, unsure how to proceed. None of your former partners had ever expressed interest in going down on you, so you weren’t sure if Satoru felt obligated to do this, or what, but you didn’t expect him to frown at you.
“I know I don’t have to,” he confirmed. “But I want to. Like I really want to, if you’re comfortable with that.”
All you could do for a few long moments was stare at him, as if waiting for him to laugh at any second, for him to tease you for falling for such a silly prank, but he never did. His eyes were focused on your face, though they were now more black than blue because of how dilated they were.
“You can tell him no, little one,” Suguru assured from his seat across the room. “You’re calling the shots here. If you say no, it doesn’t happen.”
Once again comforted by his words – and baffled that you had so much control over this situation – you let out a soft, trembling breath, before looking back to Satoru. “If you really want to…” you agreed quietly, hesitating a moment longer before you complied with his earlier request, leaning back against the pillows and spreading your legs.
“I really do,” Satoru confirmed yet again, and as you spread your legs, his gaze instantly dropped to his prize. He was quick to settle down on his stomach, wrapping his arms around your thighs once he was eye-level with your cunt. 
“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re dripping for us already.” He sounded almost in awe of you and your body as he spoke, and if his hold on your thighs had been any less sure, you would have slammed your legs shut again. As it was, you squirmed uselessly in his hold, face burning in embarrassment.
“Stop staring,” you whined, hoping you didn’t sound as flustered as you felt. “If you’re gonna use your mouth on me then get started already.” The attempted scowl on your face vanished as he bit down on the plush of your thigh, and you yelped. “That’s not what I meant!”
“Isn’t it?”
“Satoru,” Suguru chastised, and both of you froze at his tone. “Don’t be mean to them. Do what you promised, or I’ll have to punish you.”
Satoru’s ears dropped at the mention of a possible punishment, and he nodded slightly. “Yes, alpha,” he said, then pressed a gentle kiss to the spot he had bitten. “Sorry, little bunny,” he apologized quietly, holding your gaze as he spoke.
Still feeling a little baffled by how quickly Satoru had obeyed Suguru, you simply nodded your forgiveness.
He seemed to relax a bit then, and he dropped his gaze once again. His intense focus on such an intimate part of you had you feeling beyond flustered, so you leaned your head back into the pillows, staring intensely at the ceiling. You could feel his hot breath against your slick soaked skin, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what he was waiting for.
“It’s not very polite not to look at someone when they’re pleasuring you, little one.” Suguru’s voice had a teasing lilt to it, but you could tell he wasn’t entirely kidding.
Is that seriously what’s stopping him? you thought to yourself, but you didn’t say the words out loud. Instead, you replied, in a voice much smaller than you expected, “I can’t look at him.”
“Why not? Is something wrong?”
“No? I-I don’t… I don’t know,” you stammered. “Nobody’s ever gone down on me before. I can’t look at him while he does it.”
There was a beat of silence, then another.
“Can you look at me instead?”
That caught your attention. You lifted your head from the pillow once again, though this time you focused on the alpha across the room, rather than the omega between your legs. This is manageable.
“Hmm, there you are,” the fox hummed, giving you an encouraging smile. “Better?”
“Much,” you agreed quietly, and you were surprised to find that meeting his gaze was exactly the thing you needed to ground you.
“Good, I’m glad. You can start now, Satoru.”
The first swipe of his tongue up your folds had your whole body trying to jerk away from the touch, though the movement was involuntary. It didn’t feel bad – in fact it felt good, really good, as he pressed in closer, his tongue exploring places even your fingers had rarely touched. When he moaned against you, your head dropped backwards at the intensity of the feeling.
“Ah ah, little one.”
Suguru’s voice had Satoru stopping his movements, despite the fact that he wasn’t the one being spoken to. You whined pathetically as his tongue pulled away from you, and you couldn’t help but pout.
“Eyes on me,” Suguru continued, the words clearly directed at you, “or you don’t get to cum yet.”
Instantly your head shot up, and you stared at the alpha wide-eyed, breathing a little heavier than you had been before.
His expression was smug once you met his gaze, and even if you hadn’t been able to see his smirk, you would’ve been able to hear it in his voice. “Very good,” he praised.
With the confirmation that you were doing as you were told, Satoru was quick to get back to work, moaning into your skin as he licked up your slick. Some part of your brain was insisting that no omega should enjoy the taste of another omega’s slick, but Satoru had never been what an omega should be, so you shoved the thought aside.
Just as you pushed the thought from your mind, the bunny between your legs wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. It felt as if all the air had been sucked from your lungs, and your thighs clenched around his head, though that only made him moan louder into you.
Somehow, you managed to keep your eyes open and locked on Suguru, even if your vision was a little fuzzy around the edges. When he spoke to you again, though, it took a bit more focus to really hear him.
“You can touch him, you know.”
“Wh— oh my god — what do you mean?”
A small chuckle escaped him, and he tilted his head slightly as he gazed at you. “You can touch Satoru, if you want to. You won’t get in trouble, or anything like that. In fact,” he glanced down at the other bunny’s fluffy white head, “I can confidently say he wants you to touch him. Isn’t that right, pretty boy?”
“Please,” Satoru whimpered, barely pulling away from your cunt long enough to speak, and he was quick to dive back in, this time working his tongue into you.
You weren’t sure what the noise you made was, but you didn’t really care; all you could focus on was the feeling of his hot, wet tongue working you open. Without even thinking about it, your hands flew from the bedsheets to his hair, tangling the strands between your fingers and pulling, much harder than you’d intended to. There was no room for you to even attempt an apology, though, because the sensation had him moaning louder than before, and he rutted his hips down into the mattress.
“Told you,” Suguru chuckled, but neither of you really heard him, too lost in the way Satoru had his mouth on you, licking up your slick like he’d die without it.
When the other omega pulled his mouth away from you, you whimpered, dropping your gaze from Suguru’s to Satoru’s. Before you could form any sort of complaint, though, you watched as he released his hold on one of your thighs and pushed one of his long fingers into you.
Your brain short circuited at the sight, and you let out a strangled moan, unable to tear your eyes away from his hand. He worked you open carefully, first with one finger, then with two, and before you knew it he was curling three fingers into your sweet spot, the pleasure of it so intense you were nearly cross eyed, especially with the way he was still sucking on your clit. 
“I told you to get them ready for me, didn’t I, pretty boy?”
“Yes,” Satoru answered instantly, the word muffled against your skin; the vibrations of it had you moaning quietly.
“And do you think your fingers are going to be enough for that?” His voice was a little darker than before. Not scary or overtly predatory, just… more intense, more focused; hungrier.
“N-no, alpha,” Satoru panted, thrusting his fingers faster, panting heavily into your pussy. “Want to taste them first, please? Wanna make them cum all over my face…”
There was a pause, somewhat tense as both you and your fellow bunny waited for the fox’s answer.
“Well, when you ask so nicely,” he practically purred. “Go ahead, Satoru. Make a mess out of them.”
That was all the permission Satoru needed. He latched onto your clit once again, alternating between sucking and tracing patterns against it with his tongue, his fingers abusing your sweet spot until you were seeing stars.
You barely recognized the scream that tore its way out of you as your own voice, too busy thrashing in his hold, thighs clamping down around his head once again. You gushed slick everywhere – all over his fingers, all over his mouth, all over the sheets – until everything was wet and almost sticky with it. 
Though you had no memory of closing your eyes, it wasn’t long before you heard Suguru’s voice, now much closer than before, gently calling your name, asking you to open your eyes for him. Eventually you managed to comply, slowly fluttering your eyes open to look up at the fox.
“There you are,” Suguru praised quietly. “Pretty boy really did a number on you, huh?” He brushed your hair out of your eyes as he spoke, and you weren’t really sure if he expected you to answer him or not. You stayed silent, more focused on catching your breath and coming down from the most mind blowing orgasm of your life, and your silence didn’t seem to bother him at all.
“What about you, pretty boy. How’re you feeling?” You managed to follow the alpha’s gaze – albeit a bit sluggishly – as he turned his attention from you to the other omega, and what you saw had your face burning all over again.
The lower half of Satoru’s face was absolutely drenched in your slick, and you could see how it was beginning to run down his chin and jaw to his neck. His hand wasn’t any better off, either: there was slick coating him well past his wrist. You were mildly horrified that you’d done that to him, but it was clear by the look on his face that he was thrilled that you’d made such a mess of him. “Feelin’ really good,” he answered, a dopey grin on his face as he sat up. The bunny leaned over you a bit then, getting as close to the fox as he could without actually moving from his spot kneeling between your legs. “Wanna taste?”
Suguru smirked slightly at Satoru’s question. “Of course I do,” he replied. Then, he reached out, lightly threading his fingers through the hair on the back of Satoru’s head, pulling him into a messy, heated kiss; a kiss that he absolutely dominated, without any sort of protest from the other man.
As you watched them, still somewhat dazed, you realized that, at some point between getting up from his seat across the room and joining the two of you on the bed, Suguru had stripped himself of his clothes, leaving him just as bare as the two bunnies waiting for him. There was a part of you insisting on looking down, on getting a good look at his cock while you could, but you were too caught up watching the two men kiss.
Some time later – minutes or hours, you weren’t sure – they broke apart, both of them panting against each other. “Delicious,” Suguru murmured after a moment, licking the last vestiges of your slick from around his mouth. “I’ll have to get a taste first hand next time, but for now, pretty boy, you need to finish preparing them for me.”
Satoru nodded obediently, though a soft squeak escaped him as the other man reached around and tugged lightly on his tail, just to tease him a bit. The bunny huffed indignantly, but the effect of his reaction was lost when you saw that his pupils were still blown wide and his eyes were still slightly glassy as he focused on you.
“You ready for more?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as he looked down at you. “Or do you need more time to catch your breath?” As he spoke, he reached down and began to stroke himself with the hand still coated with your slick, his breath stuttering a bit at the touch.
Thankfully you had managed to catch your breath by this point, and you nodded dumbly for a moment. “Yeah, I’m ready,” you confirmed, sounding more steady than you had expected, given your brain was still catching up to your body. 
“Thank god,” Satoru sighed, then shuffled into a better position, hovering over you and propping himself up on the hand not currently occupied. “I’ll be careful,” he promised, his voice gentle and sweet. 
You nodded again, trusting him to keep his word, and spread your legs a bit wider to better accommodate him. A gasp flew from your lips as he lined up with your entrance and slowly began to push forward. You’d known he wasn’t small, but feeling the outline of his cock against your back was not the same thing as feeling it pushing its way into your body. Your hands shot up to his shoulders, nails digging into the pale skin there as he slowly filled you, inch by impossible inch. 
When you felt his hips finally meet yours, you both let out a shaky moan, and he dropped his forehead to yours for a moment, now propping himself up on his elbows so he wasn’t fully crushing you into the bed.
“Can I have a kiss?” he asked quietly after a few moments, and the question caught you a bit off guard, especially since he seemed a little nervous to ask.
Pushing on his chest a bit so you could get a proper look at him, you scanned his face to figure out what, exactly, his goal was, but all you found in his expression was earnestness and hope, and the tiniest hint of worry. “...Yeah,” you agreed after a moment. “Yeah, you can have a kiss.”
The little grin that tugged at his lips was more adorable than it had any right to be while he was buried balls deep in you, but you found yourself smiling back anyways, allowing your eyes to slip shut for a moment as your lips made contact.
Though the kiss started as a soft, chaste press of lips, it quickly devolved into deep, sloppy kisses, barely enough time to breathe in between each kiss. Your ability to breathe was well and truly stolen for a moment as Satoru began to move, gently rocking his hips up into you at first, then eventually beginning to properly thrush, pulling out a bit before pushing back into you again.
Each movement had you panting and moaning beneath him, one hand still gripping his shoulder as the other trailed up his neck to tangle in his hair. “Ho— o-oohhh — h-how is this preparing me for Suguru?” you asked, doing your best to focus on the omega above you, despite how good he was making you feel.
“He’s bigger than I am,” Satoru answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He noticed the way you tensed slightly and shuddered at his words, and he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay,” he soothed, and you could hear a quiet purr rumbling in his chest as he spoke. “That’s what this is for, ‘kay? I keep making you feel good, make sure you’re nice and ready for our alpha when it’s his turn.”
Apparently still able to scent your apprehension, the bunny pressed a few more soft kisses down the side of your face, still purring quietly all the while. “It’s ok if you don’t think you can take him,” he murmured. “If you need to tap out after me, that won’t hurt his feelings. He’s gonna fuck me either way. After you and I are done you can participate as much or as little as you’d like, little bunny. Whatever you say, goes.”
Something about the tenderness underlying his words, and the sweet way he called you “little bunny” had you practically melting beneath him. “Okay,” you murmured, turning your head to catch his lip in another soft kiss, letting the touch linger longer than was strictly necessary, simply enjoying the intimacy while you could.
“Satoru?”
“Yes, bunny?”
“I appreciate how gentle you’re being with me right now, but my guess is Suguru won’t be as gentle.”
A small laugh escaped him, and he shook his head slightly. “You’re right,” he confirmed.
“Then I really think it’ll be better for all of us if you stop moving like you think you’ll break me and just fuck me.” Even as you spoke the words aloud, you felt flustered, but Satoru just smirked.
“Your wish is my command.”
He shifted his position slightly, guiding your legs up to wrap around his waist. Once he was confident you were settled, he started moving again. The sharp shift in the way he was fucking you was enough to make you yelp, though the sound dissolved into an unabashed moan, your grip on him tightening everywhere, desperate not to get jostled away from him.
It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for you to feel another orgasm building, but you were powerless to do anything but hold on for the ride and moan the omega’s name as he brought you to new levels of ecstasy.
Satoru’s pace faltered a few moments later, his hips stuttering to a stop as he gasped. You whined softly, but shifted until you could look over his shoulder to see what had happened.
Suguru was kneeling on the bed behind Satoru, a hint of a smirk on his face as he gazed down at you. “Please,” he said evenly. “Don’t stop on my behalf. It’s absolutely delicious to watch.”
When Satoru shivered and moaned loudly in your ear, you looked down from the alpha’s face, not entirely unsurprised to see he was currently fucking Satoru’s pussy with his fingers.
“Awe,” Suguru taunted. “Is this too much for you, pretty boy? Do you need me to stop?”
“No!” Satoru answered immediately. “N-no, feels good… wan’ more, please, alpha?”
The fox seemed to consider for a moment, his ears and tail twitching in sync, before he came to a decision. He withdrew his fingers and landed a solid smack to the omega’s ass. “Make our little one cum first.”
“Yes, alpha.” 
Clearly not wanting to disappoint Suguru, your fellow bunny resumed his relentless pace from before, hips stuttering a bit as Satoru began to fuck him with his fingers again, but he didn’t stop this time, and was easily able to regain his rhythm. 
Ever a quick study, it wasn’t long until Satoru found your sweet spot, and once he found it, he adjusted his hips to make sure he nailed it with every thrust. He nibbled and sucked at your neck as you whimpered and writhed beneath him, thighs beginning to tremble where they were locked around his waist.
“You gettin’ close, little bunny?” he asked breathlessly, barely biting back a moan of his own as he waited for your answer.
“Uh-huh,” you whined, tilting your head to grant him further access to your neck. “Need more, ‘Toru, please…”
“I got you,” he promised. One of his hands snaked between your bodies, his palm resting on your lower belly as he reached down with his thumb, rubbing slow circles on your clit, the pace of his thumb a stark contrast to the pace of his hips.
“Cum for us, little one,” Suguru encouraged from above.
That was all it took. You wailed as you tipped over the edge into pure bliss again, your vision whiting out for a few moments as you shook almost violently in the throes of pleasure. Satoru was still rock hard inside you when you came back to yourself, though his thumb was – thankfully – no longer on your clit. His movements were more subtle now, more of a rocking motion as he moved back and forth into the wet heat of your cunt and the welcome intrusion of Suguru’s fingers.
“Please,” he whimpered, looking over his shoulder at the alpha. “Please, wanna cum, need to cum, please…”
“Shh,” the fox soothed. “No need to beg this time, pretty boy. You’ve done very well.”
The bunny whined at the praise, blush instantly coloring his cheeks as he rocked back onto the fingers in his cunt.
“Want you to cum inside them, yeah? Get them nice and wet for me…”
Satoru moaned the loudest he had all night at the command, and he nodded, moving his hips with purpose again now, though his movements were a bit uncoordinated. That didn’t matter, though, because soon enough he was pressing his full length into you one last time before spilling into you, simultaneously gushing slick over Suguru’s hand.
The sudden warmth filling you made a shiver run down your spine, and you moaned quietly at the feeling; it was much more pleasant than you would’ve expected. You were a bit surprised Satoru didn’t fully collapse on top of you then, but when you felt a larger, more calloused set of hands gently unwrapping your legs from around the other bunny’s waist, you realized it most likely because Suguru was planning to move him out of the way.
Your theory was proven right when, rather than falling down on top of you, Satoru flopped onto his back beside you on the bed, breathing heavily and staring almost unseeing at the ceiling. A moment later, a curtain of dark hair encroached on your vision, and you turned to look up at Suguru.
His narrow eyes crinkled around the edges as he smiled down at you. “Feeling alright, little one?” he asked gently, ghosting his fingers along the hickies Satoru had left down one side of your neck.
You hummed softly, giving him a slight nod, lashes fluttering and goosebumps raising your skin at the featherlight touch of his fingers on your throat.
“Good, I’m glad. How about a little breather, hm? Pretty boy over here will get all pouty if I don’t pay attention to him, too.” Though his words teasing in nature, almost taunting, the affection in the alpha’s voice was unmistakable.
His comment made you giggle softly, and you nodded. “Breather sounds nice,” you agreed. “I just get to lay here and relax?”
“Yeah, just relax,” he confirmed. “Roll over for me, I’ll help you get comfortable.”
You did as you were asked, flipping over so you now laid on your stomach, rather than your back. You jumped slightly as you felt him lift your hips with one hand, but quickly mellowed out when you realized he was just sliding a pillow under you.
“Comfy?”
“Very,” you hummed, unable to stop the purr that began to vibrate in your throat. “Go get him off before he starts whining.” You gestured in Satoru’s direction, eyes half closed as you allowed yourself to really relax.
That made Suguru laugh softly, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek before moving over to the other bunny, who seemed to be more coherent now, given that he looked displeased, and his bottom lip was jutted out.
“I don’t get whiny, and I don’t pout,” Satoru insisted.
“You’re pouting right now, pretty boy,” Suguru teased, smiling down at him.
Satoru said nothing, just huffed and looked away from the alpha above him. “You’re so mean to me.”
“Ah, but you like when I’m mean to you.”
“In bed.”
“Yes, pretty boy, I know. Only in bed.” Suguru began to press soft kisses down Satoru’s body then, pausing at his chest to take one of the omega’s pretty pink nipples between his teeth and tug lightly. 
Satoru squeaked at the feeling, body jerking and gracelessly trying to swat the alpha in retaliation. “No fair! You promised you wouldn’t use teeth on them anymore.”
“Sorry,” Suguru apologized, not looking particularly sorry at all. “Won’t happen again.”
As they bantered back and forth, their affection for each other rolling off of them in waves, you watched silently from the sidelines, a soft, if slightly sad, smile on your face. Though you’d been in relationships before, you’d never had anything like what the two of them had, either romantically or platonically. Not until you’d met them, anyways.
They had always been so sweet to you, welcoming you into their world so quickly. You knew they never needed to pretend to be anything they weren’t when they were together, and the more time you spent with them, the less you felt like you had to pretend around them, too. It was nice to have people you trusted so much, and who trusted you the same; to love someone and have them love you in return.
Because really, you did love them, and you’d told them that before, more than once. It was a sentiment you knew they returned – they’d said it to you more than enough times for you to believe them – but the longer you thought about it, the more you realized that the line between romance and friendship with them had long since blurred, and that began to weigh on you.
Do I want what they have, or do I want… them?
Almost as soon as the thought crossed your mind, you shoved it aside; now was certainly not the time to be unpacking all of that.
You were quickly pulled back into the moment and out of your thoughts when you heard Suguru say your name. Only, he wasn’t talking to you, but about you, as he ground his hips into Satoru’s, buried to the hilt in the omega’s pussy. It took you a moment to realize what he was talking about, but eventually you realized he was talking about… biting you.
“They’d look so pretty with my mark on their neck, don’t you think, pretty boy? Let everyone know who they really belong to, who loves them more than anyone else.”
Satoru whined, though the sound wasn’t entirely pleasurable. “You said you’d bite me first,” he replied, voice quiet and smaller than you were used to hearing. “You promised, promised I’d be first, even when we fell for them. You promised.”
The pain that laced the edge of Satoru’s words nearly broke your heart, and before Suguru had a chance to say anything, you decided to cut in.
“Bite him first,” you said quietly, meeting the fox’s dark, steady gaze. “Keep your promise, bite him first. I’m not going anywhere.”
His eyes flashed at your words, and an almost hopeful look crossed his face, before he looked back down at Satoru. “You heard them, pretty boy. They’re not going anywhere.”
The bunny smiled at the news, letting out a little chirp – the single most adorable sound you’d ever heard him make – at the news, though soon enough he was gasping and moaning again as the fox fucked him a little harder, kissing and sucking down his throat and pumping his cock in time with his thrusts.
“F-Fuck, alpha, gonna cum,” he whined, bucking his hips up into Suguru’s fist.
“Cum for me, pretty boy,” Suguru cooed. “Cum for me and I’ll bite you.”
The words had barely left the alpha’s mouth before Satoru was crying out, writhing and bucking his hips as he spilled over Suguru’s hand, coating his fingers in white.
At that same moment, Suguru fulfilled his promise, biting down hard on the curve of the bunny’s throat, sinking his teeth into the scent gland there and thoroughly claiming Satoru as his. Satoru tensed as he was bitten, but it was only for a split second before he went completely boneless beneath the alpha, whining and babbling his name until the alpha released his hold on his neck.
“Look at you, pretty boy,” Suguru murmured affectionately. “Even prettier now that you’re mine…”
Satoru’s answering hum quickly morphed into a whine of protest as Suguru pulled out, still rock hard and covered in the other man’s slick; he hadn’t knotted Satoru, which struck you as odd.
“It’s ok, baby,” Suguru rushed to soothe him, brushing the hair from his forehead and pressing a soft kiss to the sweaty skin there. “I’ll knot you later, alright? Gotta make sure little one’s all taken care of first.”
The words seemed to do the trick, and Satoru quieted down, nodding slightly as he rolled over to lay on his side, now facing you. “He’s gonna make you feel really good,” he murmured, reaching out towards you and taking your hand. “His knot feels incredible.”
You giggled softly at his words, though you were sure he was being entirely sincere as he spoke. You squeezed his hand gently, only pulling away when Suguru removed the pillow from beneath your hips and rolled you over onto your back once again.
“Hi,” he greeted with a small chuckle. “You ready to take me?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but the words died in your throat as you finally got a good look at him, your eyes going comically wide. 
His cock was huge. Maybe not quite as long as Satoru’s was, but it was much thicker, which reignited your worries from earlier in the evening.
“Hey, look at me,” Suguru called, gently tilting your chin up until you met his eyes again. “We can stop right here if you want. If you’re not ready to take me, that’s okay. And if you don’t want to have sex but you still want me to claim you, we can do that too.”
Knowing you still had the option to back out, even now, and knowing neither of the boys would be upset with you if you did was enough to bolster your confidence. “I want to keep going,” you told him. “Want you to knot me, claim me as yours.”
“I can definitely do that,” he said, purring a bit as he leaned down and kissed you. Much like your kisses with Satoru earlier, the touch went from sweet and chaste to desperate and devouring in just a few short moments. 
As the alpha broke the kiss and shifted to sit back on his knees, you whined and attempted to follow him, but he kept a gentle hand on your stomach to keep you down where you were. “Wanna see what a mess Satoru made of you,” he said, a wicked gleam in his eye.
You swallowed thickly and nodded, not protesting as he placed his hands on your knees and pushed your legs apart, staring down at your messy, dripping pussy. When he let out a low whistle at the sight, you whined in embarrassment and covered your face with your hands; you couldn’t believe he wanted to see all that, couldn’t believe you were letting him, couldn’t believe he was enjoying it.
“Pretty boy sure did a good job getting you ready for me, I’ll give him that,” Suguru said, wanting to have just a bit more fun teasing the two of you, his two bashful omegas, before he gave you what both you and he wanted so badly. “That’s good, though. It’ll make it easier for you to take me.” He rubbed his hands up and down your thighs for a moment, waiting until you peeked through your fingers at him. 
“It will?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “The glide will be nice and easy, no dry friction or anything to worry about causing any pain. It’ll still probably be a bit of a stretch,” he added. “But it’ll be much easier on you this way.”
The tension bled from your shoulders at his words, and you nodded again, slowly pulling your hands away from your face. “What are you waiting for, then?” you asked him, biting your lip lightly after you spoke; you normally weren’t one to tea or speak so playfully in bed, but these two brought out a different side of you than any of your previous partners, and for that, you were glad.
“Well when you put it like that,” Suguru replied with a grin, spreading your legs a bit wider so he could settle between them more comfortably as he leaned down over you once again. He pecked a quick kiss to your lips as he lined himself up with your entrance. “I’m not waiting for anything anymore.”
He pushed in slowly, just as Satoru had, but you could feel your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You clenched around him involuntarily, and he hissed at the feeling. 
“Deep breaths, little one,” he murmured, helping you breathe in time with him, which in turn helped you relax and release the tension in your body. Before you knew it, he was fully seated inside you, and you cradled his face in your hands as you both took a moment to breathe.
“Suguru?” “Yes, little one?”
“If you don’t knot me soon I think I might combust.”
A small laugh burst out of him then, and he easily captured your lips in a kiss. “I don’t think you’ll have to wait long,” he assured you. “I’m as desperate for this as you are.”
And desperate you were. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as you pulled him into another kiss, your fingers slipping through his silky black hair as you attempted to find something to hold onto, something to ground you as he fucked you, every movement deep and intentional, as if he had a mission to accomplish, because he did. Both of you were eager for him to knot you, to bite you and claim you as his just like he had done with Satoru a bit before.
You whined against the fox’s skin as you buried your face in his neck; he was making you feel amazing, but it wasn’t enough.
The feeling of another set of lips trailing down your arm to your shoulder had you gasping in surprise, and when you turned to see what was happening, you were pleased to see that it was your fellow bunny coming to help. He twitched an ear affectionately in your direction, and you did your best to return the gesture, a sweet – if somewhat fucked out – smile on your face as you looked at him.
Taking the gesture as an invitation, he leaned in and kissed you slow and sweet, his light purrs vibrating into the kiss and making you scrunch your nose as the feeling, but it wasn’t unpleasant. You allowed yourself to get lost in the kiss and the feeling of Suguru’s thick cock filling you better than anything or anyone else ever had, so when you felt two of Satoru’s dexterous fingers land on your clit and start tracing little infinity symbols, you gasped, beginning to writhe under the pleasurable stimulation. 
“I’m gonna cum,” you warned, the words escaping you on a high pitched, whining moan, and you clenched around the cock inside you.
Suguru moaned in return, licking up the side of your neck left unblemished by Satoru before he spoke. “That’s okay,” he mumbled into your skin, placing hot, wet, openmouthed kisses haphazardly across your skin. “Let us make you feel good, don’t worry about anything else.”
You could only nod in response to his words, and seconds later you were falling apart, moaning high and breathless as you clenched around him, shuddering and shaking with pleasure. “Bite,” you begged quietly. “Please, alpha, claim me…”
A low, possessive growl rumbled in Suguru’s chest at the sound of you referring to him as “alpha”, and almost instantly he was sinking his fangs into your neck, in the exact same spot he had bitten the other bunny.
The breath was stolen from your lungs as you felt him puncture your scent gland, and while your prey instincts stiffened every muscle in your body for a split second, preparing you to flee for your life, the tension disappeared just as quickly, leaving you practically a puddle underneath your fox.
Just when you thought everything was done, that it couldn’t get any better, you felt Suguru slam into you one last time, flooding your insides with warmth; you also felt the way his knot swelled, stretching you out impossibly more and locking you together for a while.
You wailed at the feeling, nails scraping at his scalp until he released your throat from between his teeth. It was as if all the adrenaline and pain bled out of you from the new bite mark in your neck, and you certainly weren’t complaining.
A soft grunt slipped from your lips as Suguru collapsed on top of you, though he did what he could to keep his full weight off of you. When he deemed that task too difficult, though, he wrapped his arms around you, carefully rolling both of you onto your sides. Satoru was quick to snuggle up behind you, reaching across your body until he could rest a hand on your shared alpha’s hip; Suguru quickly did the same, and once they were touching each other again, they relaxed. You were sure their purring was involuntary, but it was genuine.
You’d certainly slept worse places than between two purring men who loved you.
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yeah i.... don't really have anything else to say. this was not proofread so i apologize for any glaring errors. also i don't know how dicks work.
tagging: @lorelune @yutaleks @dr-runs-with-scissors @kentohours @fushigurro (not tagging my usual taglist bc uhh. this is not what y'all signed up for lmao)
dividers by saradika-graphics
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lorelune · 21 hours
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lorelune · 22 hours
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i keep seeing people shouting abt dark content and hsr so i guess i need to speed up on writing architect part 4 :))))
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lorelune · 23 hours
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knot happening (part one) — bnha, alpha!bakugou katsuki x f!reader, aged up characters, established relationship, a/b/o dynamics, use of "brat" and "pipsqueak" as pet names, smut in the second part (coming soon), omegaverse!au for the spring fever collab run by @lorelune ! 1.2k words
your new company has some... interesting policies for employee heat cycles. you do your best to find a loophole.
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"I can't do it."
"The hell d'ya mean, you can't do it?"
You give your Pro Hero boyfriend and resident alpha A Look. Bakugou Katsuki has the grace to shut his mouth, but he rolls his eyes and drapes a heavy arm over your shoulders, yanking you into him on the faded yellow couch you picked out together years ago.
"This is my first heat at this new job, and it's just... embarrassing. Do you know what they do, Katsuki?"
He raises a sharp blonde eyebrow in invitation.
"They..." your voice drops with horror, "they announce it to the whole company."
"Hah?" Katsuki sits up a little, strong thighs flexing beneath his gym shorts. He came in on the tail end of your mental breakdown, finding you pacing in the living room of your apartment with your hands tugging incessantly on your borrowed shirt. "What the fuck?"
"I know," you wail, "it's ridiculous! The president sends out a company wide email explaining your absence, and the HR team sends you a care basket, and the Sales team sets up a pre-heat drinking party! Do you know what's in the care basket, Katsuki?"
"Do I wanna know?"
"It's filled with sex toys, babe! SEX TOYS! From my company! They're branded!"
A spark lights up in Katsuki's otherwise vaguely concerned expression. "Don't they know you're mated?"
"Yes, of course, that was in my file," you wave him off, still seeing horror images of company branded sex toys floating in your mental vision. "I heard from Sasaki in Accounting that the toys are for when your mate needs a break. Y'know, from fucking."
Katsuki's derisive snort is loud and breaks you out of your personal hellhole. "What kinda fuckin' alpha needs a break when their mate needs 'em?"
"Well, not every alpha is a big strong Pro Hero like you," you point out, poking him on one annoyingly firm bicep. The familiar scent of caramel and smoke fills your nose. "And actually, maybe I should ask if they've got any onaholes for when you're the one in heat. Last time I needed another two days to recover."
"Hah?! There's no fucking way I'll use one of those!"
You peer up at your boyfriend reproachfully. "I like being able to walk, Katsuki."
"You don't need to fuckin' walk if I'm carryin' you everywhere, brat."
"Hmm, we'll see," you say. Katsuki's red eyes flash as you tap your bottom lip with your finger thoughtfully. "There's gotta be a way for me to take a week off work without telling them I'm going into heat."
"There's no way you'll be able to avoid it," Katsuki rumbles, leaning forward to catch your finger with his teeth. He nips at it lightly before leaning down more to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. That, more than anything, finally makes your anxiety simmer down. "You always smell so fucking good before it starts. Everyone's gonna notice."
"You're the only one who can do anything about it, though, so you'll have to keep it in your pants or quit picking me up after work."
"Not happening," Katsuki presses another kiss along your hairline and noses into the strands, sniffing deeply. It tickles, and you laugh, trying halfheartedly to shove him off of you. "What else do they give in these care packages?"
"Actually, besides the super cursed sex toys, they include really good snacks and electrolyte drinks to keep your energy up," you say, "and I'm really glad my company is so open about it all, but it's just so embarrassing!"
Katsuki hums, letting you vent out your worries. You look really pretty like this, dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of pajama shorts, some soft cotton thing that barely covers your perfect ass. He pulls your legs onto his lap and you flop backwards on the couch, moving on from your minor breakdown to sharing a funny story that happened to one of your new coworkers the other day. He had missed hearing about it then, stuck on overtime for a patrol, so he basks in your attention now as the two of you laze around on the couch.
The afternoon passes into evening. It's a rare lazy Monday together — your new job lets you have three day weekends in exchange for slightly longer work days, and Katsuki's patrol schedule happened to line up this week. You're digging into a pint of ice cream after polishing off a plate of his delicious (but spicy) curry and rice when it comes up again.
"What're you gonna do about your heat?"
"Well, I was thinking," you slide your spoon into the thick cream and wave it at him, "I'll still need to use my authorized heat cycle time off, since I want to save my vacation and comp time for real uses, so there's no avoiding the company finding out..."
Katsuki raises an eyebrow and accepts the spoonful of ice cream you're dangling in his face. His tongue pokes out to chase a bit of cream lingering on the edge of his lip and he grins, sharp, at the way your eyes track the movement. "But...?"
You have a feeling Katsuki hasn't fully thought through the horrors of corporate sponsored pleasure items, but you have, and the thought of everyone at your new company knowing you'll be getting fucked within an inch of your life makes you want to shrivel up and die. All companies have policies in place to protect time off for heat cycles, as society couldn't function otherwise, but this is the first place you've worked where impending heat cycles are declared company-wide. Normally it's just marked as time off.
"But they don't have to find out until after it starts, right? So as long as I can get through the pre-heat stuff without anyone noticing, I can avoid the cursed care package and company-wide email!"
"Ain't happening," Katsuki says flatly.
"We've been mated for sooo long now, babe," your gaze flicks up to meet his and you pout. Your boyfriend outright snorts when you start batting your eyelashes at him. "Surely you can resist the pre-heat symptoms this one time? I swear I'll get over my company's shenanigans once I see it happen to a few other people. It's really great how supportive they are, but I need some time, that's all."
"Your heat is in like. Two weeks," Katsuki says.
You pout up at him some more.
"During your last heat cycle we broke the mattress frame when I missed your first few pre-heat days."
"Yeah, but that was because you had that mission that went long," you say. If you could just... convince him... "C'mon, babe, this will be different! You're such a strong, powerful alpha — resisting me will be a piece of cake! Unless..." you pause and scoop another bite of ice cream into your mouth, "you're too weak to resist me."
"Are you callin' me weak?" Katsuki narrows his eyes. You wave your spoon casually and shrug.
"I mean... all you've gotta do is ignore my pre-heat. I'm just an itty bitty omega..."
Getting into a staring match with Pro Hero Dynamight is not on anyone's Top Ten Good Ideas list, but you match your boyfriend's red glare steadily.
"Alright, pipsqueak, you're on," Katsuki scoffs. "We'll see who's beggin' for who by the time your heat rolls around."
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lorelune · 24 hours
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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, omega reader, 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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lorelune · 1 day
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last but not least, the pyro gang is here 🔥
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lorelune · 1 day
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JING YUAN CAMEO IN THE NEW TRAILER??
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lorelune · 1 day
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