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neopuppy · 3 months

Text

Angel Baby (M)

pairing. alpha Jaemin x pregnant female omega reader

genre. *gasp* and they were neighbors AU, non-traditional ABO, single & pregnant y/n, fluff, smut, M/F

warnings. profanity, alpha/omega dynamics, ‘pup’ instead of ‘baby’, possible inaccuracies(writer has absolutely never been pregnant), pregnancy aches & cravings, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

wc. 8000

now playing. angel baby//Troye Sivan

smut warnings. unprotected sex, pregnant sex, lactation, use of ‘mama’ and ‘mommy’, breast fondling, fingering, oral, slick, painful orgasm(for Jaemin), etc

a/n. wanted to title this fic Orgasm Donor sooooooo bad, but tumblr whack these days

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

“You know even though this is my first pregnancy, it’s not that bad.” You proudly nod, dipping another blue cheese filled olive into a cup of hazelnut spread. “I haven’t even been having those weird cravings everyones always going on about.”

Jaemin stops working on setting up his old coffee machine, shifting his gaze to watch you pop another olive coated with sweet cream in your mouth before you struggle to open a jar of pickles. “No weird cravings?”

“Nope.” You shrug, smiling triumphantly only to quickly fall into a frown as you squeeze around the jar more without budge.

He hums, twisting around to grab the jar from your hands and open it himself, nodding and smiling as he passes it back to you. You thank him, whispering that you could have opened it before continuing to munch and dunk a pickle into the spread and proceed to pour coconut shavings on it. “That’s a good thing. What about that uh, morning sickness?”

“Haven’t really had that either.” You murmur between bites, lifting your hand to cover your mouth, your other reaching to rub your stomach. “Means I’m going to have a very sweet and calm pup.”

“How’s your back feeling today?” He asks, thinking about how you’d hissed and made a pained face yesterday while trying to pick up a basket of laundry.

“Oh it’s..” putting on a smile, you wave him off. “—It’s fine, the doctor said my last trimester would be the hardest on my body.”

Jaemin turns back around to set the water cartridge in place for the coffee machine. He wants to add that your doctor also recommended staying off your feet, massages since you need to avoid hot water, and while it may be uncomfortable- try to stay off your back while sleeping. You always managed to change the subject whenever he attempted to mention a spa day to pamper yourself, or even offered his own hands to knead your tired feet.

“Offer still stands.” He reminds you, running the machine to clean it out. It’s only fair he sets it up anyway. It’s for him, since he’s been staying at your apartment longer than his own these days. “What about your Gochujang cravings?”

You instantly shy away, hiding your face to your shoulder demurely. The reminder of why and how Jaemin’s become such an integral part of your daily life always makes you feel embarrassed. “The tub I stole from you is nearly empty.”

“I’ll have to get you more next time I go to the store.”

Jaemin, while fond of the memory, also recalls it with embarrassment. It was 3 in the morning when he heard repeated light knocks that quickly escalated to heavier more determined knocks. He stumbled out of bed reaching for a hoodie to throw on and cover up his bare chest, slowly trudging down the hallway from his bedroom to the front door. “Yeah yeah, hold on.”

With half asleep swollen eyes he opened the door to find you frantic, eyes blown wide and your hands clasped together under your stomach smiling at him nervously. “I’m so so so sorry about this.”

He quickly snapped awake upon seeing your panicked expression, standing up straight and rubbing his sleep tired eyes. “It’s fine, seriously. Is it the pup?? Are you okay??”

“No no, pups fine..” you trail off, laughing anxiously. “My grocery order was missing a few items and you see.. I’m eating some apples, a little late night snack..”

Jaemin nods confused, relieved that your water didn’t break early or something. “My delivery person refunded the Gochujang I ordered. I guess they were out at the store.” You explain, feeling silly and terrible at the same time for waking your neighbor over this. You hardly even know him beyond the first run-in you had the day you moved in. “I was just wondering if maybe you have any to spare? If not it’s okay. I’m seriously sorry, I thought about texting you, but I don’t have your number.”

He perks up at the mention of Gochujang, squinting at the idea of needing chili pepper paste for your apples. “I do have some actually. I just went to the market a few days ago. Here, why don’t you come in for a minute while I grab it.”

“Are you sure? I can just be on my way, and bring you back the container tomorrow..”

“No no, it’s fine.” He yawns, motioning for you to follow him to the kitchen. “So, apples and Gochujang?”

“It’s sooo good, the hint of spice really pairs well with the crunch.”

“Should you be eating something this spicy, uh, right now?” He questions, wondering if that’s good for a baby, mentally noting to look that up online later.

“Oh, I love a little spice.” You nod, looking him over now under the kitchen light. “Nice sweater..”

Jaemin makes a confused sound, shutting the fridge to look down at himself with a container of Gochujang in hand. “Oh..” he tries to smile when you snort, rubbing his free hand down the large bold black letters reading ‘Orgasm Donor’ on the white hoodie. “It was a joke gift from my friends.. I didn’t uh..”

“Is it true?” You ask coyly, glancing away when he looks at you surprised.

“Is what true?” He retorts, not awake enough to catch the way you grin and shyly bite your thumb nail.

“Are you charitable?”

He’s struck for a minute, blinking slowly in disbelief that the cutest pregnant Omega he’s ever seen is currently standing in his kitchen at 3 in the morning desperate for chili paste to eat with her apples flirting with him? The same Omega he watches waddle through the halls after picking up her mail leaving behind the softest traces of fresh whipped creamy milk? The same one he couldn’t help but notice had no mating mark adorning her long beautiful much too bare neck?

Peering bewildered from the front of his hood back to you more than a few times, he gapes like a fish, lifting up the tub of Gojuchang. “Yeah, anything you need, I’m always an apartment away. I work from home now too so don’t worry about showing up whenever you want, I’ll give you anything you want.” He says too eagerly, stepping forward with a smile. “Like this chili paste.”

What are the chances you show up at his door like a glowing dream, leaving your warm milky scent behind that softly carries him back to his dreams. Dreams full of you, your smile when he passes by, the cute way you struggle to bend over and frown because your belly has just gotten too big.

He could tell after that you needed more help than you were willing to let on, especially by the number of packages showing up at your doorstep varying from small to way too large for you to be handling on your own.

“Hey, remember when I said you can come to me for anything?” He said approaching you attempting to push a new extra large package through your door. “I meant anything, consider me your new delivery man, alright?”

“Ah, you really don’t have to. I still owe you for the Gojuchang..” the same paste you shamelessly never returned- that Jaemin would never ask you to bring back anyway.

“You don’t owe me anything.” He always made sure to reassure you with a large smile, removing his shoes as he entered your apartment and asked for directions.

“It’s a new drawer for the baby.” You said, motioning toward the spare bedroom you’d begun to decorate. From that day he refused to let you handle any furniture building on your own, to the point that he felt invasive for barging into your life this way.

The few comments you made here and there gave him enough hint that you’re on your own. No Omega soon to give birth should be alone, this is one of the most vulnerable times you will ever experience in your life. Besides, he likes helping you. He loves to hear you gasp when he effortlessly picks up the new crib you ordered, loves to hear your comments about how strong he is. Loves to still have your scent swarming around his head when he returns back to his apartment, and he really really loves being around you.

That’s why a coffee machine in your apartment has become necessary. After a quick shower and brushing his teeth, he’s already on the way out, taking a few short steps to your place.

“Good morning.”

It’s become your normal day, sitting around on the couch watching lamaze videos as you practice your breathing. Jaemin’s changed his schedule around to fit your lifestyle. You have no idea how you got lucky enough to move in next door to a not only ridiculously handsome and helpful Alpha, but an extremely polite and giving one at that.

The nurses at your clinic always blush and giggle while he waits for you, drooling over the good looking built Alpha without a trace of mating mark on his skin. They’ve made a few comments to you, curious about him, curious about your relationship with him.

He’s not your Alpha, even if your Omega has started to believe so. How can you not with his constant concern for your wellbeing? The random gifts he brings to you, trying to pass them off as something he saw on his way home even though you saw the packages waiting at his door. He’s really been there for you, more caring than any Alpha you’ve been with before; including the absent one-night stand you had that wanted nothing to do with you when you contacted him to let him know.

Sure, the predicament you’ve ended up in isn’t the best, but as you fold new onesies and put away matching pacifiers you can’t find the will to be upset with your decision, even if this isn’t the way you imagined your future to unfold.

“How are you feeling today?”

He’s been repositioning the furniture that’s already set-up in the pups future room, finding where you’d like the crib to be placed before working on building your new items. “Still having trouble sleeping?”

Yes, sleeping has been rather difficult. It’s been months now since your last heat. 9 months to be exact, landing yourself where you are now after the wild excursions your last put you through. Throwing up, swollen feet, random cravings, and an aching back can’t nearly compare to how insanely frustrating it is to lose sleep. The push and pull happening between your thighs to your brain always hits at night. It started after the month you first moved in, the dreams that had you waking up soaked with slick.

Your physician had explained that they would only get worse, seeing as Omegas typically have an Alpha to handle those issues. The pregnancy suppressing your heat in turn makes your hormones 100 times worse.

And that is where Jaemin comes in, you tried to avoid him and keep your distance, but he’s just too damn nice. Making it impossible to turn down the Alphas unwarranted help, never asking anything of you in return, he simply wants to help.

After that night of craving chili paste, you solemnly patted your way back to your apartment, pathetically frowning at the tub of Gochujang you’d been craving.

Orgasm Donor?!? You could scream! The sexiest Alpha you’ve ever seen right next door in nothing but his boxers and a ridiculous sweater, it took all of the strength you could muster up from the moon Goddess herself to clamp your thighs shut and strain your muscles to not drip slick right there in his kitchen.

The Alpha had to know by now how dizzy his presence alone makes you. Having to sit down whenever he steps foot inside of your place, you sigh, biting down on your lip to not drool over how tight his shirt is today. Each movement flexing the strong muscles lining his broad back too visible. Even after being bred enough to get pupped you can’t control how crazy your hormones have made you feel these last couple of months. No amount of balancing tea or vitamin in the world can quell the need to get absolutely fucked by the strong Alpha taking up space in your future nursing room.

“Still bad I take it?” He says before you can respond, too lost in your thoughts to realize how long you’ve been staring off fantasizing about all the ways he could take you.

“Does it show?” You ask self consciously, rubbing your stomach to comfort yourself.

“Huh?” He turns, noticing that you’re playing with your hair, bringing it closer to your face. “Oh no no, you look as cute as ever.” He smiles that same charming toothy smile he always has specifically for you. “I just meant, y’know I worry about you getting enough sleep. I was reading and it’s important you get at least 10 hours minimum.”

“10 hours is wayyy too much..” you laugh, rubbing under your eyes trying to remember how bad your dark circles looked this morning.

“I can definitely help you fall asleep.” He says casually, not understanding how feral your Omega is. The little voice inside of you growling and lunging forward to escape with a ‘bet you can’. How much longer can you really endure having this Alpha around before you make headlines.

PREGNANT WOMAN CHOMPS THROUGH HER NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR ALPHAS BICEPS, CLAIMS HER HORMONES GOT THE BEST OF HER!

How humiliating. If only he understood your true despair stems from him and how rabidly horny he’s gotten you.

“How does this work? You’ll be sleeping in your bedroom while the pup stays in here, or will you be ruining your back on this chair?”

Jaemin asks nonchalantly, carrying on the conversation you’ve been checking in and out of. Quietly humming to himself as he positions a cushion on the seat of the rocking chair he’s been working on assembling for the last hour. He definitely took longer than what he’d estimated in his mind when you mentioned your new crib and chair arriving today. Not that he’d ever admit that he wanted to scream after 10 minutes of searching for one screw that the instructions called for. He’s sure the crib will take another two hours to set up after this(if he’s lucky), biting back a sigh to not catch your attention the more he thinks about it.

“I think for nap time it’d be best to get the pup used to this room, I’m sure I’ll struggle to not sleep by his side every night at first..” you admit shyly, cupping under your stomach and rubbing over the round exterior. He wants to agree that there’s no way a newborn pup would want to leave your side; not with the way your face lights up whenever kicks beat against your stomach or when he brings you back from your doctor visits listening to all the exciting future plans you have lined up.

“It’s probably not my place to say, but you shouldn’t fall asleep in here much. This chairs not that comfortable..” he frowns, testing out the rocking motion. “I’m sure we can find another crib that could fit in your bedroom..”

“Another crib is a bit out of my budget right now.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He grins, standing up to tap the large cardboard box you’re perched on. “Isn’t that what baby showers are for? I’m sure your family has already stocked up on things to gift you.”

Ah, a baby shower. Of course, how could you fail to mention that neither of your parents have spoken to you since the day you showed up at their doorstep 3 months pregnant, unmated and out of wedlock. “Ah, you—you have a point.” You mumble nervously. “You’ve been at this for a bit, I’ll get the coffee brewing.”

“Coffee sounds great right now.” Jaemin says, helping you stand up without releasing your hands until he deems your ankles steady enough to walk on your own. “You know how I like it.”

“Four shots of espresso over ice?”

“Exactly.” He winks your way, beginning to unbox the crib you’d shown him a few weeks ago. Some fancy overpriced one imported from Italy, a dream according to what you had said while he sat with you as you browsed through various baby decor online shops.

He really wanted to ask what the hell ever happened to Babies ‘R Us, recalling his days working across the street from one, but you looked too happy smiling wide as you showed him the different canopy designs and various woods used to customize each one.

“It’s perfect for a boy, don’t you think?”

Ah, these are really questions you should be asking your Alpha.. if you had one. His lips draw down, peeling open the cribs manual to divide and separate each piece into small sections to start working out.

It’s hard to believe an Alpha, any Alpha period could just up and leave their Omega to raise a child alone. Jaemin can’t forget the first day you moved in and struggled to drag your belongings down the hallway corridor creating an unnecessarily noisy ruckus outside of his apartment. He stormed out ready to curse you to hell for waking him up, having come home from the gym late the night prior and hoping to catch a few more Z’s that morning. The shout ready to exit his lips hung in the air upon seeing you nearly tip over and let a bag full of clothes spill onto the floor instead of risking the chance to fall and land on your stomach.

You had to have been only a few months along at the time, barely showing a small bump. You hadn’t spotted him yet as you stood there looking over your neatly folded clothes falling apart and making a big mess to clean up. Stress and exhaustion pulled at your soft glowing face, slowly sliding down to your knees to throw everything back in the bag you’d been carrying.

He contemplated speaking up, opening and shutting his mouth as he watched a tear slip down your cheek, swallowed past the seam of your lips. Anyone with half a brain would be able to read the room and assume you weren’t in the best situation given your state at the time. Still he couldn’t help but take in your pretty skin, glossy eyes batting away more tears from pouring, and the small pout permanently etched on your lips as you gathered your things.

“Here, let me help.” He said, deciding to bend over and grab your bag as you shoved in the last of your clothes. To your surprise, you glanced up, jaw hanging as you started to shake your head. “New neighbor?”

Everything progressed slowly from that moment. Sure, at first it was all a coincidence how often he’d find you having a hard time carrying packages from the mail, out of breath lugging your groceries from your car, cursing loudly whenever you’d burnt dinner and set off your fire alarms. He can’t deny making an effort after your first month next door to check in on you, whether you asked for help or not. Especially after the night you showed up begging for chili paste. Without being too intrusive he picked up on hints, figuring out that the Alpha that got you pregnant was clearly no longer a part of your life.

Instinctively he had to do what any respectable Alpha would willingly want to do. Helping you through these past 5 months has been entertaining to say the least. There’s a bit of charm to your silly nature, to how often you whine and complain about your feet getting wider, your back hurting, the odd cravings that hit in the middle of the night. The ones you still deny are cravings, he snorts thinking about that.

Jaemin’s had more fun getting to know you than he has had with some of his long term relationships, even turning down potential Omegas to spend weekends with you. Someone has to be here to make sure you don’t burn your spaghetti again..

And there’s a possible chance he’s developed some feelings, feelings beyond friendship. Could just be his Alpha viewing you as his mate, watching your stomach grow and expand every week does drive him a little crazy, just a tad.

“Hmm,” realizing he’s been reading the same paragraph over and over again without registering any instructions, he looks around and sits up. You’ve definitely been gone for longer than 10 minutes by now..

“How’s that coffee coming along?” He asks, jogging down the hall, feet hitting the brakes as soon as he makes it to the end. “Shit.”

“I—I don’t know what happened.” You cry, hands shaking above a broken mug and spilled dark liquid.

“Are you hurt?!” He rushes forward, falling to a squat to reach for your arms, hands pausing mid-air. “Oh my God..”

“I’m—I’m sorry, please don’t look..” you whine, hunching in to hide your breasts. It’s useless to try, completely leaked through your shirt leaving your pert nipples completely visible through the thin soaked material clinging to your ample chest.

“You’re—“ Jaemin stutters, swallowing a thick wad of saliva, mouth going dry at once as the sweet creamy scent of breast milk swirls around his tonsils. “I need t-to help you.”

“S’ok, I got it..”

“No no, come on.” He gulps, gently grabbing a firm hold on your waist to bring you back up with him. Against his insane willpower, he has to look. He has to lower his gaze and focus on how your breasts bounce as you find your balance. They’re so full, look painful and ready to burst. He’d read about this.. how Omegas can begin to lactate months prior to giving birth depending on how often they typically go into heat. He thought informing himself of all the possibilities would make everything much less daunting, but there’s no way to deny how fucking good the scent rolling off your warm flesh tastes as it seeps through his senses.

And when you regain your balance, reaching behind yourself to grab at the kitchen counter ledge, your chest shoves out even more, inadvertently spurting milky liquid from your nipples. He tries to keep his scent calm, tries to look away, tries to stop his fingers from itching to cup and squeeze out more. But fuck everythings hitting at once, spiking his scent, thrumming through his cock until it twitches against the inside of his sweats.

He should be ashamed, ashamed for objectifying this vulnerable moment, for imagining his lips sucking around your leaking buds, dragging the material of your shirt past his mouth to suck it clean.

“Alpha..” you moan, shattering any ounce of guilt he felt. Snapping his gaze to your face he nearly crumbles at your wet parted lips, the tears clinging to your lower lashes.

“I know Mama.” He agonizes, tightly gripping your waist as he works to take deep breaths through his mouth and blow out slowly, averting his gaze away from your body. “L-let me help you change.”

The last time he can recall feeling this feral had to have been the day before he woke up in his first rut. He’d been at the gym working up a sweat, arms on fire by the time he exited the weight training room and decided to end with cardio. Plans went astray when he neared a treadmill to hop on and looked around only to realize the gym had to have been full of Omegas. Omegas perspiring a damn storm judging by the way the aroma of sweet honey caramel skin and lush petals of Jasmine slapped him across the face. He had to leave after a minute to calm himself, head dizzy and feet off balance as he made his way to the lockers to melt away his perverse thoughts.

Even the hard-on he suffered to jerk off that night could not compare to how painfully his cock aches right now. Throbbing faster than a rapid heartbeat, he even fears his dick could burst if he has to swallow anymore of your scent, if he can’t rip his gaze away from your perky delectable nipples.

“Alpha, I’m hot.”

Fuck. You are. You’re so hot. He nods, unrealizing that he’s agreeing, not even noticing how scorching hot your skin feels through the material of your shirt. “T-think I should l-leave.” He says begrudgingly, feeling like a failure, a coward.

“Please.”

That’s it. That’s all it takes to strip away the last bit of self control he could come up with. It wasn’t much anyway, the mixture of your breast milk and delicious pregnant scent combined could send him straight into an impromptu rut. “A-are you sure?”

He licks at his plump lips, leaving a film of saliva over his naturally pink pout that makes your thighs squeeze together. Even with shards of broken mug too close to your feet and the pungent smell of coffee wafting between you, all you can think about is how big the Alpha is. He’s so big in front of you right now, bringing your need to feel small and taken care of to light. The independence you’ve convinced yourself of all dissipating with his large hands rubbing up and down your sides, arms flexing from the tense struggle running through his body.

“What should I do mama? Hmm? I need to clean you up.” The fear he had of taking the next giant leap of a step with you quickly exits, furrowing his eyebrows as he takes in your sobbing pretty face. He’s used that nickname a few times before, always sending shivers up your spine, but it’s worse now. The sugary tone he speaks to you in, so cute, striking each nerve as he moves you to the counter to get your bare feet away from the mess.

“Please Alpha, I feel..” thick arms wrap around your waist, laying his forehead gently on yours.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

It’s too hard to say anything with the tremors his question releases throughout your body, searching for his hand to slide it down past your stomach between your legs where slick has already started to seep through your leggings. “Here.”

“Fuck.” He hisses, biting down on his teeth. “You’re making me crazy, you know that?”

“S-sorry,” you hiccup, squeezing around his hand cupping your middle. “That’s w-where—hurts..”

He tsks, shoving inside your bottoms to drag his fingers through the wad of slick gathered between your folds. It’s so much, leaking out profusely, covering his palm and wrists as he slides in deeper to tease your hole. “Messy, so damn messy mama.”

“Ah, d-don’t!” You croon, eyes welling up with tears from the relief of finally having your pussy touched by someone other than yourself. Harder and harder to reach past your stomach most nights, you succumb to whimpering into your pillow frustrated, fantasizing that your neighbor would hear your distress and gallop in on a horse like your knight in shining armor. “Don’t call me t-that.”

“No?” He frowns, nose brushing yours. “But your pussy tightens up around my fingers so good when I do, mommy.”

“Alpha! Ugh!” Dropping your neck, you let out a long winded cry. Panting short of breath from his thumb working furiously to harden your clit. “S’too—too dirty, p-please!”

“You’re right,” his tongue clicks, echoing around the kitchen. “You are still so so dirty mommy.”

With one arm he manages to lift your butt onto the counter, nodding for you to scoot on with a pat on your hip. He settles between your parted thighs, reaching for the hem of your shirt. “Wait!” You panic, gripping around his wrists. “Don’t..don’t want you to see..”

“What??” Gasping surprised, he blinks confused, rubbing the fabric of your shirt between his fingers.

“My body right now—“ you flush, darting your gaze away ashamed. “Don’t want you to see..

“Nonsense.” He snaps, using a firmer tone with you that you’re not accustomed to hearing. “You think this,” touching your stomach, he glides upward to cup and squeeze your breasts. “And this? Doesn’t make me feel rabid out of my damn mind to fuck you right here, break the laws of humanity and wolf alike, get you pregnant with my pup somehow?”

It’s the angriest he’s ever looked, wrinkled between his nose and eyebrows, glaring at his heavy palms kneading your breasts to make more milk trickle. “Fuck, I’ve tried so hard to know my place, to show you nothing but respect..”

“S-stop,” you gulp, letting go of his wrists to smooth up and squeeze his biceps, clawing your short nails into the muscles. “Disrespect me, please Alpha..”

Big round eyes stare at you full of shock, taking in how you bite on your lip shyly. The trickles of milk so creamy and thick, spilling down his hands to his flexed forearms. “One thing I’ll never do—“ pressing in, he licks at your Cupid’s bow, long eyelashes blinking against your cheek. “Is disrespect you.”

The sound of your shirt ripping open has you gasping, sinking your nails deeper into his muscles. “But since you asked so fucking nicely.”

He gets the message quickly as you reach for the collar of his shirt and pull hard enough to stretch the fabric, quickly stepping back to strip it off and fully display his well built shoulders and chest. The gurgle from your throat that follows pleases him, returning your hands to feel every inch of new muscle you weren’t familiar with. His mouth is too thirsty, salivating as he takes your full breasts again without anything to hide your swollen nipples and admires them for less than a minute. Lapping at his wet lips as he shoves between your cleavage, licking up the remnants of dried and fresh milk with a deep groan.

Fuck. It’s incredible, nothing he’s ever tasted before. Sweet nectar that can only pour from a fertile breedable Omega built to birth healthy pups. Every sense and nerve in his system lights on fire, digging his face between your ample chest despite your cried moans. It’s bliss, more intense and real than anything, shoving his tongue between your tits to fuck the small gap.

“Alpha!”

Breast milk won’t stop running down his arms, opening his mouth wide to capture one of your hard nipples. The nub digs against the roof of his mouth, slurping down the cream as your other tit leaks akin to a broken faucet. “So fucking good mommy.” Jaemin says roughly, pulling away to look over your pleasured face.

His lips swollen pink with a sheen milky layer, completely debauched as he goes in for more and attends to your other nipple. They swell up after many nibbles, gently digging his teeth into your firm buds. Each suck tastes sweeter than the last as your scent spikes and Omegan arousal swirls around him. The strong tones of milk mixing in with yours has his Alpha fanatic, jerking his hips against the kitchen counter for some type of friction on his cock.

“Alpha please, my pussy, please.” You ask too innocently, as if the activity that expanded your stomach out in the first place didn’t prove otherwise. He grunts for you to wait, shoving his face back in-between your bosom, jiggling the fleshy meat against his cheeks. If not for your hips jumping up he’d continue to assault your tits, spend hours playing with them until you have nothing else left to quench his insatiable thirst.

“Bet your pussy tastes just as sweet.” He grumbles, moving down onto his knees to pull off your leggings and panties in one go. “Fucking hell.”

The amount of slick painted across your thighs and ass could compete with the local community pool, maybe even replenish a tiny village. His cock jump’s fiercely at the sight before him, lavving the residue of breast milk on his lips for a clean taste as he dives in.

“Jaemin!” You shout, scrambling to grab onto something at the first stroke of the Alphas tongue prodding between your chubbed folds. The sounds he makes only add fuel to the fire, releasing more slick with each deep growl and bated panting breath.

“Taste so damn good Omega,” he hums, enamored by how syrupy and powerful your scent slaps him across the face from between your thighs. Shuffling forward on his knees, he holds your thighs open to stretch his jaw wide and roll his tongue from your entrance to your clit, jolting your legs to kick the kitchen drawers with his skills.

Everything feels so good, spinning your mind around. The only frustration as you peer down is the sight of your round stomach completely hiding the Alphas lustful gaze and sloppy tongue. “Alpha, pleasepleaseplease!” sobbing, you kick at the drawers again. “Can’t see your face! C-can’t see!”

Jaemin shoots up at the sound of your affliction, eyes blown wide with concern as he reaches for your shoulders to sit you up. “Shh shh, I’m here.” He smiles, a disaster of slick covering his nose, lips and chin. “Look at me pretty mama.”

“Mmm..” reaching for his face, you smear the slick on his lips. “Messy.”

“Messy for you.” He kisses at your thumbs, sucking on the tip of one he captures. “Such a bad mommy, wants to watch her pussy get ate?”

Nodding feebly you move to stroke his neck, squeezing around. “Can’t see you down there..”

“Stay like this okay?” He instructs, pecking you, leaving slick on your chin. “Sit just like that, you’re doing so good for me mama.”

Setting your palms on the counter, he opens your thighs up a little wider, getting down into a squat to keep his head at level with your knees. “Keep your pretty eyes on me. Gonna make you feel good.”

His eyes stay on yours, one palm splayed on your thigh as his other reaches just under your navel. Stretching his neck back into an uncomfortable angle, his tongue hangs out, blinking up at you before diving back in to lap at your clit. Wide firm licks catch your sensitive folds, face rocking back and forth to really let you feel his tongue stroking between each crevice.

Big watery doll eyes stay facing up to watch you fall apart, scratching at the counter desperately to not reach for his hair to slam his face in deeper. Slippery hot stiff pressure teases under your clit, he keeps it there twitching the muscle until your hips start to rock forward and tears erupt from the corners of your eyes. The heat inside of your stomach pools, coiling up to your chest making it harder to breathe. He keeps at it for another minute until your eyebrows scrunch together.

The lick he delivere to your clit sparks raging nerves up your spine, arching forward and nearly losing your balance on the counter to fuck his face.

Dipping lower he finally plunges as much of his tongue as he can inside of you, slapping your inner thigh when you shout out in pleasure. The thick fat muscle rubs at your inner walls, sucking down the slick that tries to choke him out. Much like your breasts, he could spend hours just like this between your supple thighs, memorizing the way you fall apart and shake from every lap and stroke of his tongue.

Finally caving, you grip onto his hair, crying out brokenly. “I’m c-cum—“ his tongue disappears before you can complain, moving to stand and shove three fingers inside your cunt. “Ahhh!”

“Look at me mama, be good for Alpha.” He orders throatily, vocals thick and corded with slick. “Squeeze that pretty pussy around my fingers, give it to me.”

“Jaem—Alpha!” The heels of your feet slam against the drawers painfully, reaching for his wrist as he jerks the three digits stretching you open. Bicep rippling from the strength being used to shoot your release out around his relentless working fingers. “S’too—good.”

“God you cum so fucking pretty.” He sighs, gently drawing free to rub your clit while you twitch against him. Lips finding yours to calm your high with tender kisses.

“Come here pretty.” Jaemin says huskily, daring to scoop you up without a hitch, bare round stomach pressed to his smooth abs just enough to not apply pressure. He turns toward your living room, setting you down on the couch to grab a few pillows. “Here baby, let me make it comfortable for you.”

“Alpha..” you whine, still conscious of how big you must look on your back like this. He only smiles, bending in close to kiss your lips.

“I can’t knot you, don’t want you to stay in this position too long.” He says, sweating through excruciating horny pangs shooting through his dick.

“Please Jaemin, want you i-inside.” You beg much too prettily, pulling his lips back to bare his teeth. He wants to be gentle with you so badly, wants to focus on you and make you cum to your heart’s content. But God you aren’t making it easy.

“Only for a little, okay?” He says raggedly, hoisting you to sit leaned against the pillows to take pressure off your lower back and still make it easy to get between your legs. “If it’s too much I’ll stop.”

“Won’t be too much Alpha, need you so bad.” You say drowsily, still drunk from the orgasm his fingers and mouth ripped out of you. He nods, tugging on the string holding his sweats up, blushing when he sees the giant wet stain of pre-cum that’s leaked through the cotton fabric. “I should put a condom on.”

“I’m already knocked up.” You giggle, covering your face. “Don’t want anything between us.”

Fuck. You’ll be the death of him talking like that. Pushing down his sweats, he gasps at how red the tip of his cock is, looking painful to the touch. There’s no way he’ll be able to last long enough to not pop a knot inside of you.

“Alpha.” You whisper, angled perfectly in a half seated position to see how enraged his dick looks flush against his stomach. He doesn’t even have to stroke it, doesn’t want to out of fear of cumming before he even enters you.

“You sure about this?” He asks once more through gritted teeth, already lining the tip up to your entrance.

“Pl-lease.. haven’t gotten fucked in s-so long.” You hiccup, too excited, bending your neck in to watch his throbbing red cockead nudge against your hole.

“Fuck! Ahh,” hissing, he gingerly grabs the base of his size, slowly pushing in until your cunt snaps around him. So tight, tight like you haven’t been fucked in months exactly as you just admitted. He’d fuck you so hard, make you take every inch until his dicks coming out of your nose. But now’s not the time, this isn’t about him no matter how hard the veins lining his length throb in disagreement. “Feel g-good?” He asks, licking at the sweat beading on his upper lip.

“M-more, please!”

He can’t do it, can’t push more than the tip in because it’d be too greedy. Even if he gets you off first it’d be too fucking greedy. As painful as it is to ignore the begging cries you let out, he opts to press down on your clit. Thumbing the stiff nub back and forth with short thrusts drawing the fat tip of his cock in and out enough to have a perfect view of your hole stretching around him. “So good, you’re doing so good for me mommy.”

“Alpha!” You twitch, lower back arching up starving for more. “P-please! Deeper!”

He wants to cave, give you everything you want, make you cum on his cock and bloat your stomach out even further with rivers of cum deep inside of you. “C-can’t.” He grits, grabbing onto your hips firmly to stop himself from thrusting in further. “D-don’t make me..”

“Need it! I need it!” You keep pleading, head tossed back with your wet spit slick lips parted open panting. “Fuck me! F-fuck me please! Put another baby in me!”

“Ahh, you c-can’t say that!” He growls in pain, digging the tips of his fingers into your hips hard enough to leave marks. You can’t say that, anything but that. “Mommy wants Alphas cum.”

“Y-yes,” you whine, stroking down your stomach to direct his gaze beneath your navel. “Wanna feel you h-here, mommy wants it.”

“Shitshit,” that’s it, that’s enough to jerk his hips and push in another inch. How could you ask this of him? How could you act like such a sweet pilant breedable bitch, begging to get fucked and fucked until all you know how to do is get pupped. “Yeah, mommy wants it deep.”

His sack feels heavy as he plunges in the rest of his length inch by inch, slapping against your rim balls deep. “Get you pregnant again, keep you pupped up with my baby.” He rambles, focusing on not slamming his cock in like a wild animal. Having to squeeze his eyes shut to not cum when he sees your milk filled breasts bouncing up high enough to hit under your chin. “Fuckfuckfuck, you’re too much.”

He sounds so desperate, dying to ram into you faster with each rough grip on your hips. Pushing up off his knees, he squats to angle his cock in even deeper, making your lips fall open with a loud shouted moan. “Right t-there mama? Is that it? You want it there?” He asks, raspy and throaty, deep voice coming out from a deep torned place.

“Alpha!” You stammer, spluttering the same words over and over again mindlessly.

“Look at me,” he groans, bending in closer to cup your cheek and grind his hips. “W-wanna feel you cum on my cock. Gonna cum for me mama?”

“Fuck, ahh!” His thumb presses against your bottom lip, nodding with you as his other hand slips between your conjoined lower halves. Expert figure eights work more slick out making his cock slide in even easier if possible, wet and messy rivering down his inner thighs.

“Cum for me, come on.” He growls, thrusting a little faster to chase your release. His balls slapping against the dip of your ass with each push in. The entirety of his length penetrates in and out, skyrocketing your pleasure by pinching your clit. Each flick and rub rushes heat through your stomach and chest, toes curling as you find his wide blown out eyes.

“F-fuck me, breed me full of cum.” You plead between gritted teeth, reaching to hold around his neck, suffocating the scream that rips from your chest. It’s been so long since you last had a release this strong, unable to even arch up with the weight of your stomach holding you down. You kick out and cry against his pouty lips, eyes rolling back.

“That’s it mommy,” he cries, eyes watering up as your walls squeeze the life from this dick and he has to do everything in his power to stop himself. His Alpha screaming at the top of its lungs to knot knot knot! Especially with the way you beg for it, the way your pussy swallows his dick whole and grovels to be knotted.

“Don’t p-pull out, please Alpha.” You sob, opening your hands in search of his. “Inside me, s-stay inside.”

“Ughh!” Jaemin can’t stop himself anymore, shoving his cock in to fill up to the brim with a few more sloppy thrusts. Reaching for your hands, he bends over bridging his upper half above yours. The muscles lining his stomach twitch and clench, sucking in at his navel as he draws his length out to the tip and the base of his cock expands. It’s more painful than he’d expected, his Alpha howling like a beast inside, gnawing through his facade of strength as tears pour down his cheeks. “Fuck. Fuck!”

He sniffles, cockhead still lodged inside your tight hole spurting out sticky cum that seems to satiate you judging by the long sigh you let out.

“Alpha..” you say drowsily, eyes half-lidded with the most serene smile looking back at him. “Sleepy.”

Nodding furiously, he kisses your hands before releasing your hold, quickly wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Pulling out okay? Need to clean you up.”

Jaemin hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to not bend at your will, having to tune out the way you whine for him to stay inside of you. His Alpha shouts and snarls, berating him for not listening to their Omega.

He’s so fucked, already recognizing you as his mate without considering what you must feel right now, driven by your out of whack hormones and lust.

“Don’t leave me.” You pout, whining so pretty.

“I’m not going anywhere mama.” He reassures, leaning in to kiss your stomach. “But I need to get you cleaned off before you fall asleep, alright?”

He tries to make it quick, scrambling to fill up a bowl of warm water and grab a few washcloths. Can’t be fast enough when he jogs back to the living room to find your eyes fluttering open and shut. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll take you to bed.”

“Nooo,” you continue to whine, huffing petulantly. “Too heavy..”

“I bench 280, don’t doubt me.” He chuckles, shaking his head. Sitting by your side, he slowly cleans the mess of slick and cum that’s dripped down to your thighs and ass, patting the area dry. “How are you feeling?”

“Eepy.”

He’d squeeze you if he wasn’t so happy to hear that you’re relaxed enough to possibly get a full night of sleep. Proudly smiling to himself as he finishes cleaning you off and bends closer to your face. “Time for bed.”

“Don’t leave me..”

He scoffs playfully, getting up to position you on top of his arms, squatting down to ensure he picks you up properly. “I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Mmm..” true to his word he carries you to your room without much struggle, softly laying you down on your bed and stumbling when you grab onto his arm and pull. “Stay here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Stop asking.”

He sighs, moving to the empty side of your bed, shoulders instantaneously losing the tense concern and worry he’d been holding onto. You can talk about this in the morning, or the afternoon, or at night, or never.

Maybe he can just accept that you both wanted this and more than anything he wants this. He wants to help you with your pup, take care of you after you give birth, help cook and clean, make sure you’re well fed after hours of trying to put your pup to sleep.

It can really be this easy, living here in this moment. In the safe comforting space of your small apartment that’s started to feel more like home than his own. Playing house with you has brought him more relief than hours at the gym.. long nights out partying.

He watches you get comfortable on your side, beginning to breathe in and out more shallowly.

“Jaem..”

“Hmm?”

“You’re staring.” You murmur, trying to hide a smile.

“I am.” Scooting in closer, he lightly rests a hand on your stomach. “I’m scared to ask, but this is okay, right?”

A cute growl emits from your chest, laying a hand over his. “I’ll let it slide, you do a real good job around here.”

“It’s okay, you can finally admit that you like me.” Letting out a long sigh, he nestles in closer, cheek resting on your chest. “I like you too.”

“Do you?”

“Is it standard for Alphas to cancel their plans every week to hang out with their pregnant Omega neighbor?” He hums, following your hand to rub your stomach. “Ah, what am I saying? I was all happy to get you to fall asleep and now I’m talking your ear off.”

He’s met with the light sound of breath, lifting his gaze to find you well past counting sheep. Adjusting to cradle your head better, he kisses your forehead. “Night night angel baby.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

#jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #neopuppy fics #na jaemin fanfiction #jaemin fanfiction #nct dream fanfiction #nct fanfiction #nct x reader #jaemin x you #jaemin x reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction

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katsukiizmoon · 6 months

Note

bodyguard or bestfriend! katsuki who practically lives in your personal space, he's only "looking out for you" and "making sure you're okay" he definitely isn't dependent on feeling your warmth against him, he definitely doesn't get antsy when you're not near him, not at all

Second time writing this, tumblr ate it the first time 🥴 but no because I bet he leaves his shit there and then forgets.i have so many thoughts on this

Katsuki has practically raided every square inch of his apartment. He’s checked every basket, drawer, nook and cranny of the place— and he’s found four pair of boxers. Total.

There’s no way.

A frustrated groan leaves his lips when he notices missing sweatpants. His face twists into a scowl while he shoves the last of his dirty laundry into the washing machine. He snatches the detergent and tosses it in, pressing the button and turning on his heel.

He storms out of his apartment and shoves his keys into the door, locking it. And you know something’s off the moment he arrives. He huffs and puffs like he’s going to blow your house down. All the while, you sit perched on the couch with a basket of laundry and a no-brain-needed show on.

“I’m goin’ fucking insane.” Katsuki grits, carmine eyes peering into your ceiling.

You hum and toss a pair of panties into a nearby basket. A sigh leaves him as his chest sinks beneath the black tank top.

“You always are— but why now?” You raise a brow at his glare, resisting a snicker.

Your fingers lay purchase on a pair of his sweats. Effortlessly, you begin to fold and separate the rest of the laundry. Another pair of his sweats are in your hands as you pause to look at him.

“Searched the damn place top to bottom,” a sigh “- can’t find my shit. Got four pair of boxers. I’m losing it.” He grunts with an exasperated groan.

Katsuki peels his gaze from the ceiling to meet your own. You begin to chortle and snort.

The pair of sweatpants in your hands meet his face with a dull thud. Without thinking, katsuki yanks the offending fabric away and growls.

“Oí, asswipe-“ The second pair meets his face before he can finish and it takes all of three seconds for it to register.

“.. why d’you got my shit?” He takes a deep breath, just like his therapist told him to, trying not to jump to conclusions.

“You always leave your shit here— I’ve got an entire drawer. You’ve even got a toothbrush and face razor in my bathroom.” You challenge, holding up a pair of boxers you’ve just found in the basket.

Katsuki blinks. He has been over a lot. But it’s only because you can’t take care of yourself— you’d die! The blonde runs through memories of cup ramen and expired snacks in your fridge and pantry. His eyes roll.

“Well, I need my shit, brat.” He chooses to say instead.

You glance at the TV to see two of the girls arguing over what food to have at a party. Typical, there’s always that one bitch who wants fruit at a candy land themed party.

“Go for it, it’ll end up back here anyways-“ you chortle and toss a pair of clean boxers his way “-you’re over five days a week.”

Ruby orbs narrow, brows furrowing as he takes playful offense to your statement. A grin plasters across his face and he leans in.

“Wouldn’t have to if a certain shithead could take care of herself, now would i?” Katsuki taunts and assumes victory. He looks proud of himself.

Your brows shoot to your hairline and you laugh wildly. The task at hand half forgotten, fingers reaching into the basket to grab a random article of clothing and throw it at his head.

“Oh please, you come here for back rubs and head scratches.” The teasing tone of your voice has his eyes rolling. Hard.

Katsuki looks down at the fallen fabric and snorts. Big hands put the pink, scallop trim panties in the basket to your right while he formulates a good answer.

You’re not completely wrong.. but you can’t know that.

“Nah I c’mere cause’ you’ll get a scurvy if I don’t.” He lies, grabbing a towel to fold.

Banter continues on and off through the night. He talks shit on the show you’re watching but gets invested anyways. Like always. A plate of steaming curry is served for dinner and afterwards you show him to the stash of his items stored away in your bedroom.

He grumbles and flushes a peachy tone, throwing most of the items in his bag. He leaves two or three pairs, though.

You get lectured again on groceries even though he’s the one that cooks. And, now? There’s a grocery list on your fridge that says “k: bringing order on Monday” in not too-pretty handwriting.

Katsuki finds himself basking in the warmth of your hands later. Pretty fingers rub his taut muscles and tug at the roots of his hair. Nails drag up and down, up and down his shoulder and back casually. He’s out like a light in minutes.

He wakes up and chooses to ignore that he’s already left another set of clothing in your laundry basket.

#he gets nervous two days later trying to go on a “no staying over streak #and ends up in your place anyways #[ best friend au ]#< ping ! >#[ katsuki ]#bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x yn #bakugo x yn

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mncein · 9 months

Note

pls do newjeans reaction / headcanon where their s/o and then previously had an argument and their s/o got injured badly?

okay !! but the injuries are not that brutal hehe, once again sleeping late to fulfill your requests. doing this on my tablet is hard bro tumblr doesn't stretch to the screen, BUT is fun bc i'm listening to music <3

new jeans masterlist | main masterlist

MINJI —

why did this even happen? minji asks herself, she's currently tending your cut on your palm. an argument between you happened earlier before dinner, she's supposed to get the ingredients at a nearby store, but instead she comes home holding two bags of chips and coke. was that the reason why she was all smiley before going off?

earlier...

"minji! what the hell did you buy?!" you say as you stood by the kitchen, eyeing the bags full of chips and bevarages and no sign of the ingredients you asked her to buy.

"you said buy something for tonight?" she asks back, putting down the bags and hanging her jacket.

"no. i said, ingredients for dinner tonight!" you reply, there's no way you'll be having what she bought.

"whatever, you're going to eat those for dinner and don't even dare to ask me for some of what i cooked." you pointed your index finger at her before walking off to cook.

now...

"you're so dumb sometimes." minji states while she wraps gauze around your palm. you glare at her.

"says the one who bought chips." you roll your eyes, then watching her take care of you wound with a small blush on your face, she looked so focused...

"hey- i only misheard." minji argues back, slapping your injured hand, seemingly forgotten that it's wounded.

"ow! what the heck?!" you retract your hand from minji, glaring at her while you soothe your poor hand.

"i'm sorry! i forgot." minji sighs.

"now look who's dumb." you laugh.

"oh, now look who can't cook." minji fought back and laughs as well.

"i'm not eating your chips." you roll your eyes.

"but you have nothing to eat." minji replies.

"then cook for me, idiot." she sighs and nodded in defeat, you smile and kissed her, now she's forgiven.

HANNI —

you both had an argument about her clean clothes and laundry. you thought the clothes on her bed were dirty and put them in the laundry, and it was unknown to you that she's going to use them later on their shoot of new jeans zine.

earlier...

"where are my clothes on the bed?" hanni asks, entering the living room where you are.

"oh, i put them in the laundry." you reply, looking up from your phone.

she groans and puts her hand on her head with a frustrated look on her face. "why would you put them in the laundry?!"

"i-i thought it's used and dirty.."

"why wouldn't you ask-!? ugh, forget about it." she walks out before you could speak, you sigh. well it's also her fault for putting them in the bed so messy.

now...

"are you okay?" hanni asks for about 30 times now, you lay on the couch clutching your side which has a big bruise.

good thing you haven't set the pile of laundry that has hanni's clothes in, rushing to get it, there was a piece of your clothing on the ground and you slipped because of it. landing on your side, you groan in pain and the next thing you see is hanni rushing to you with a worried face.

"yes, i'm fine now hanni, thank you for asking." after you said that, your side aches and you clutch it in pain, another reason for hann to be worried again. she slaps your hand away and lifted your clothes up to check your side, gasping when she saw a big purple bruise.

following her eyes, you gasp as well. "do you think it's a broke bone?" you ask, getting scared now, you're definitely not okay. she sighs in relief when she just misread tha date today and there was no filming, she has to take you to the hospital now.

DANIELLE —

she never starts the argument, she gets scolds by you, it was raining outside and the girl decided to shine her light outside and play outside like a little kid. but you said something that really hurt her. rushing to her room, you follow behind, saying a lot of sorrys.

SLAM-! THUD!

you fell down, holding your head after you groan in pain. danielle didn't know you were, that, close to her door and she accidentally slammed it too hard.

"are you okay?! i'm sorry.." she asks multiple times, her hands fly everywhere, not knowing what to do.

she hugs your head, but every minute passes, the bruise forming on your forehead gets worse. danielle panics once more, reaching for your hand and helps you stand up, leading you to the kitchen.

danielle took some ice from the refrigerator and wrapped them around her precious handkerchief and held it against your bruise gently, she was so worried but at the same time guilty.

"i'm so sorry... i didn't mean too..." she whispers, her lips quivering. you look up to her with a small smile through the pain.

"it's okay, i'm sorry too, baby." you held her hand, took the ice and aid yourself. before she can reply, she sneezes, you sigh.

"i told you not to go outside, it's raining." you chuckled and ruffled her damp hair.

"but it's nothing compared to your bruise..." she sniffles, pouting.

"it's okay, really. i just don't want you sick." you hug her, and you both watched as the rain falls outside your kitchen window.

HAERIN —

you sat on the floor, checking your wounded knee, she stood in front of you in silence. you bleed from the cut on your knee, because you were following after haerin as she walks to her room to avoid the argument. but while you do so, a sharp edge of an object wounded your knee.

haerin stood there is shock, not knowing what to do, shaky eyes stare at the blood dripping from your leg. her unsteady legs kneels down beside you.

"i'm sorry.." she silently says, looking at you from the side. she's apologising even if it's not her fault? poor girl.

"no, no, don't apologise. it's not your fault." you reassure, holding her hand tightly as you endure the pain.

"i-if i didn't try to go back. you wouldn't have gotten injured." she mumbles, looking at your knee and back to you.

"no, haerin, it's fine. i can just bandage it up." you struggled to stand up, but a pair of hands helps you up to the kitchen.

"look, i'm sorry for what i've said earlier. i know you were tired." you spoke, caressing haerin's cheek with a weak smile. besides it's better to have a cut than continue the argument and you'll hurt haerin more. seeing her cry hurts more than a wound.

haerin nods, "it's okay... but let's worry about your wound? yeah?" she made you sit down as she kneels to bandage your knee.

feeling so guilty and thinking you got this wound because of her, even if it's not, she can't help but feel that way :( like minji, she's very focused on aiding you, but winces when she presses too hard that your wound gushes out blood. so sad about it, her eyes won't even leave it for a few seconds. very careful about it, reminding you not to put too much pressure on your knee :(

HYEIN —

earlier...

again, you scold her for the 3rd time of the day, was very picky about her food and acts very dramatic. telling you that she doesn't want to eat anymore and storms to her room. sighing, but still, you went to the kitchen to cook some food for you and her later, just incase she gets hungry. plus you won't let her starve because of a stupid argument. knocking on her door for a few times, asking what she wants, she just tells you to go because she'll just order her own food.

now...

she finally exits her room with her phone in hand, ignoring you on the living room while she pays and takes the food she ordered. placing it down the coffee table, she noticed that you're wrapping gauze around your three fingers. her face turning into a worry mess.

"what happened?" she quickly sits down beside you, takes your hand and helped you with the gauze. glancing up at you, you were avoiding her eyes.

"i got cut, while cooking." your face flushes in embarrassment, after being so professional and bragging about your cooking skills, you got cut? eh, it's part of the cooking life anyways. hyein lets out a breathy chuckle, cupping your cheek.

"don't be embarrassed, it's okay. i just ordered food for us, you don't have to worry about anything related to food." hyein pats your palm, indicating she was done with the bandaging. she motioned to the bag of food on the coffee table, handing yours and taking her own. it's good to see her happy again, and not so mean, like earlier.

p/s : laziness season done! i'm terribly sorry for the wait anon :( i had to do so many chores around the house, weather updates, and it's raining heavily here 😭 anyways, hope you enjoy !!

#kpop #new jeans #new jeans x reader #new jeans imagines #minji x reader #hanni x reader #danielle x reader #haerin x reader #hyein x reader #cein's new jeans #cein's anon requests

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luvrrszn · 7 months

Text

and they were roommates *

COLLEGE ROOMATE!MIGUEL O'HARA x FEM READER (18+)

summary miguel o'hara is your roommate, and then he's more than that

warnings [all sexual themes are at the bottom end of the post] explicit/18+ (smut), unprotected sex, dom!miguel, not proofread

a/n (gif posted originally by @/cantstoptheimagines, can't figure out tumblr's gif shit so i'm doing this instead, hope that's okay :)) guys i'm so bad at writing smut please go easy on me also if u have requests PLEASEEE send them in i'm so bored

masterlist

"oi! you left your panties on the countertop again, you goblin! take it back!" miguel yells at you from your shared bathroom.

"my bad." you mumble, a piece of toast in your mouth as you shuffle into the bathroom, in a hurry to grab your underwear off the marble countertop.

miguel watches, amused, as you scramble to get your things together before your 8am class. it's 7:48am, and it takes you at least 15 minutes to drive to campus, and that's if you make every green light on your way there.

you're lacing up your sneakers by the door as miguel pours himself a cup of coffee. he walks over to shut the door behind you after you leave. as you run down the hallway to the elevator, he calls out after you, "buy some juice on the way back, we're out of that."

you give him a thumbs-up before disappearing around the corner.

—

you're cooking your favourite homemade meal—pesto pasta. turning off the stove, you turn around to grab a bowl from the shelves. when you turn back around, you see miguel hunched over your pan of pasta, mouth stuffed with food. YOUR food.

you slap him away from the pan, as he feigns hurt, "ow, ow, that hurts. now you gotta give me pasta to make up for it."

"you ate two bowls of instant noodles already, how are you still hungry? get away, boy." you swat his fork away.

"c'mon, please?"

you roll your eyes and give in.

you were never truly going to say no to miguel o'hara. you had cooked enough for two because you knew this was going to happen, and you knew you weren't going to say no to miguel.

—

"miguel! stop using my shampoo! and my lotion! you know they're super expensive, get your own!" you yell at him from the bathroom, inspecting the fullness—or now, emptiness of your body care products.

"hey, mami, what can i say? those are the real deal." he replies, barely looking away from his laptop.

"yeah, and they cost a shit ton. stop using my stuff and go back to your nasty 30-in-1 soap or whatever." you huff, glaring at miguel angrily.

—

saturday evenings are spent at the dining table going over the grocery list, preparing for your weekly sunday grocery runs.

saturday nights are spent on the sofa in the living room, watching a movie.

sunday mornings are spent at the grocery store, wandering down the aisles even though you've been there every sunday for the past year and a half, ever since you moved in with miguel after a mutual friend introduced the two of you upon finding out you were both looking for a roommate.

sunday noons are spent unpacking the bags of groceries, which more often that not contain bags of junk food that miguel somehow managed to sneak into the cart.

sunday afternoons are spent doing laundry. miguel loads the washing machine while you handwash the delicate pieces that require extra care. afterwards, you toss what can be put into the dryer into the dryer while miguel hangs up the rest of the clothes to dry. then, the two of you settle into a comfortable routine of folding laundry.

that's just how it was. every week, without fail.

—

the moment you fell for miguel was when you caught a horrible cold and he took care of you.

despite you trying to shoo him away multiple times, he never gave up.

"come on, princesa. you're sick, let me help you."

"i look like a hot mess right now, miguel. just leave me alone, i'll be okay." barely finishing your sentence, you broke out in a fit of coughs and wheezes.

"no can do. you're sick, so get your ass back into bed. i'll bring you some chicken soup, so for now, just rest." miguel replied, placing a bottle of water and some cold medicine on your bedside table.

when he returned, he found you curled up in your bed, duvet tucked under your chin. he placed the bowl of soup on your bedside table, before placing the back of his hand on your forehead, only to realise that you were burning up.

"take your meds, princesa. you're running a fever."

with his help, you washed your fever medicine down with a gulp of water. then, you snuggled back under the duvet. when miguel turned to leave, your hand shot out from under the duvet, grabbing his wrist. you croaked out a "stay".

without a word, miguel got into bed next to you, slipping his arm under your head. you curled into his chest, falling asleep to the steady rhythm of his heart beating.

—

the moment miguel fell for you was when you left to visit family during summer break and he opened the refrigerator to find each shelf lined with containers of food.

you had left that morning, hand gripping your suitcase handle as you said to miguel, "try not to die, finding a new roommate with such short notice would be hard."

miguel grinned and flipped you the bird as you turned around and disappeared down the hallway to the elevator. closing the door behind him, miguel beelined for the refrigerator. maybe there was some yogurt he could have for a quick breakfast.

upon opening the refrigerator, he found that each shelf was packed containers of home-cooked meals, all prepared by you. well, that answered the question of why the apartment smelled so good when he got home last night.

there were containers of pasta, rice, chicken, salad, whatever you could think of, it was there. turning around, miguel spotted the sticky note you had left on the kitchen island. he picked up the light pink sticky note and read your note.

"seriously though, miggy. try not to die. i'd be a little sad if you did."

he couldn't help but let out a little chuckle.

—

you are the one who first confesses your feelings. on saturday night, after movie night, you gather all your courage and say, "miguel, look, i-i have to tell you something. and when i do, or even after i do, i need you to promise you won't hate me."

miguel's heart is racing. worries fill his head and his heart, and he can't help but wonder if you are going to tell him that you want to move out. he takes a deep breath, and replies steadily, "i could never hate you. go ahead, princesa."

you turn to look at miguel, and you say, "you're my best friend, and there's nothing i wouldn't do for you. you know that, right?" he nods.

taking in a shaky breath, you continue, "i like you. and it's okay if you don't feel the same way. i can't remember a time where i didn't know you, and i'm not sure i want to either. so if you don't feel the same way, can we at least still stay—"

"shut up," miguel cuts you off.

you're taken aback, stammering, "w-what?"

"just shut up," miguel repeats as he moves towards you, encasing your lips with his. you let out a slight gasp, and miguel takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

the kiss is everything you've imagined and more. it's hungry and passionate, but also gentle and reassuring. words were no longer needed; words weren't enough for miguel to express how much he liked you back.

you let miguel take control. you surrender, savouring every moment of the kiss.

and it leaves you breathless.

—

from that night on, nothing much changes. but at the same time, everything changes.

your weekend routines remain the same, but throughout the week, there's sex. so. much. sex.

miguel's sex drive is crazy, and you can barely keep up. not that you're complaining.

"miguel," you let out a breathy moan. your left hand is tangled in his hair, your right hand littering his back with scratches. miguel fucks you relentlessly, pulling his hips back and slamming into you in one fluid motion.

his hands slide downwards towards your nipple, and he toys with them, tugging gently and rubbing them between the pad of his thumb and his index finger. one of his hands slides even further downwards, and traps your clit. he rubs slow circles on it, drawing a moan past your lips.

his coordination is crazy, and you're stimulated in all the right places.

miguel senses that you're near your climax, and he speeds up, slamming into you with such tenacity that you almost believe he's in such a rush because the world might be ending in two seconds.

miguel goes faster, rougher, deeper, helping you chase your finish. the knot in your stomach tightens, tightens, tightens—then it snaps. you scream miguel's name as you cum all over his cock and go limp, seeing stars from what you think might have been the best orgasm of your life.

still deep in you, miguel feels every contraction of your pussy around his cock. you tighten around him, and after two more strokes of his hips, you're milking his cock for every drop of his cum.

out of breath, you lay there on the bed while miguel cleans up the mess on the bedsheets.

—

that afternoon, as you take out the trash, you bump into your next door neighbour, mrs palma. she looks and you and chuckles, "glad the two of you finally got together, but keep it down, wouldya, sweetheart?"

you turn as red as a tomato.

#📓—juniwrites #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #atsv #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #across the spider-verse

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brigoesrahhh · 10 months

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HI WELCOME TO TUMBLR!! can i get some hcs for malewife spot pre/post collider does NOT matter to me he's so babygirl i need him as my wife🙏🙏🙏🙏 even if he's my failwife that's okay ill love him anyways 🥰🥰🥰

ty!!<3 this is so real LOL, alright let's go 😼

Malewife Spot Hcs Pre & Post-Collider:

600+ words.

CW: light NSFW content (overstimulation, masturbation, teasing)

PRE-COLLIDER:

Despite being a scientist, I do not think that Jonathan can cook. Although, (being a father before… y’know) I think that he learned to bake some small things like cupcakes and cookies for his son... Now he bakes for you!

He enjoys decorating the cupcakes the most — icing them with pink frosting and over-the-top rainbow sprinkles.

He would be the breadmaker, absolutely. He didn’t make a ton, but he never wanted you to work for too long and encouraged you to take days off when you only felt a little ill.

When you were sick, he would come into your room with your favorite drink and blankets just out of the dryer, and turn on your favorite show/movie.

He's usually nervous around you most of the time because of how happy you make him, but he's awkward and doesn't know how to express it in words. This results in a lot of gift-giving and caring for you, constantly making sure that you're happy and comfortable.

He feels so lucky to have you. Likely struggles with overthinking and needs reassurance that you love him. (Because you both already know that he’s head over heels for you.)

[NSFW] Would talk you through it, and constantly ask if you were enjoying it. It would turn him on to know he was doing you good.

POST-COLLIDER:

Now that Spot wasn’t able to get a job, he spent most days… how do I say… being a criminal.

You were always in the back of his mind, even when making decisions that had nothing to do with you. You are like the rational part of his brain. In his mind, he would say “What would Y/N do?” and probably do the thing he wanted to anyway.

When you were in a shop and you saw something you liked, he would know. He could sense it. He would steal the item and wait for an excuse or event to gift it to you, in an attempt to hide the fact that he had stolen it. But you always knew, and would say in response: “Spot, you’ve gotta stop-” when he would cut you off and say “But I love you!” and you would sigh in defeat.

While you were out working, he was sleeping in your (technically shared) bed, doing your laundry, cleaning your desk, doing your dishes. He would do anything in service of you if it reminded him of your presence.

Extremely clingy when you do get home after work. Because as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he was thinking about you the whole time you were gone.

[NSFW] Something about that damn collider made him more submissive in bed. I don’t know if he accidentally slipped into a horny dimension or sum shit, but he's down BAD for you.

[NSFW] He would absolutely wear your clothes and be obsessed with your scent. This would send him down paths in his mind he didn’t think he had, thinking about all the stuff he wanted you to do to him.

[NSFW] He would masturbate thinking about you when you weren’t home and think about you rewarding him for doing all of your chores. He secretly hoped for this and had this in mind when he was helping you out without asking.

[NSFW] He gets flustered really easily, and becomes really needy, grinding and begging included. Teasing his holes while ‘making out’ is his easiest weak spot, and he gets riled up very quickly.

[NSFW] Despite being taller than you (he's like 7ft in my mind) he’s squirming under your touch. Overstimulation drives him crazy, shaking and begging for you to stop, but he enjoys you being in control.

#atsv #across the spider verse #the spot #the spot x reader #jonathan ohnn #jonathan ohnn x reader

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happymommas · 11 months

Text

Stray Kids (hyung line) hcs/short stories

Head canons/short stories of the hyung line in stray kids: When M/n is just having a bad day, and felt like he couldn’t deal with anything anymore. His depression is just slowly taking over his thoughts. He couldn’t think of anything, but how he didn’t belong. Yet his boyfriend(s) help him with those thoughts, which are slowly taking over.

———-————————————————————————

A/n: Hi! I know it’s been a longggg time, but I’m back. I just couldn’t find the motivation to write for tumblr. I did write for one of my books on Wattpad though. So if you want to read that my username is ilovepickle73! It’s a XO, Kitty book a Min ho x Fem! Oc x Male! Oc. If you’re interested go read it!!!! Anyways I’m gonna shut up and let you read. Unless you didn’t read this then whatever I guess. Byeeee 🙃

———————————————————————————

Chan:

You get home from a long day of hard work. The feeling of tiredness sticking to you like glue. You drag your feet and walk with less confidence. You try and breathe, but that just doesn’t seem to help anymore.

You sigh and try to let the feeling of being tired out. Your eyes start to already tear up to the thought of being so worthless. You didn’t belong, you’re co-workers already hate you, and your boyfriend doesn’t talk to you as much either.

Yeah there are some things that help you with your horrible depression, but it can’t work now. You take your shoes off after realizing you zoned out for a pretty long time.

You take your heavy coat off, it rubbing against your sore arms. You hiss as you feel the pain of clothing rubbing on your scarred skin. You groan a little and walk upstairs to your shared bedroom.

You rub your eyes and slowly take off your shirt. You throw it in the laundry basket. Leaving your pants on you lay in your bed. You close your eyes and sleep to the sounds of nothing.

— little time skip —

Chan opens the door and sighs happily. Finally he’s home. He takes off his shoes and jacket seeing yours as well. He smiles and squeals quietly. He sneaks upstairs and creaks the door open to see you asleep in your guys king bed.

He smiles larger and takes his pants and shirt off. Putting them in the laundry basket as well, he stays grinning as he can’t wait to fall asleep in his lovers arms.

He lays down and feels you shift after he gets into the cold sheets. He feels your arms around his waist. As his result, he kisses your knuckles. He closes his eyes happily before he opens them quickly. Just to look back down.

“What in the cocoa pebbles!” He shouts in his echoey brain. He blinks fastly then looks at your calm face. He turns and smacks your cheek lightly.

You open your eyes slowly and look at him. You smile and kiss his forehead. He stares at you in shock. How could you hide this from him? Have you always felt this way? Have you always done this?

He sighs sadly. You frown confused at his sudden sadness. Then look to your arms then to him. Fuck. You sigh through your nose. You grip his chin gently and kiss his lips.

He looks straight into your eyes. His own tearing up when he sees the secret apologies behind them. You bite your lower lip. He gulps nothing and kisses you softly.

You give a small smile as does he,

“Tell me. Tell me every little thing that hurt you, okay? I love you, and I won’t judge you darling. Nothing could ever make me change my mind or feelings about you” You let out a shaky breath at his statement.

“Okay.” You nod your head unconsciously.

He sits there to listen.

Let’s do this then.

———————————————————————————

Hyunjin:

You sit on your comfortable couch. Thoughts taking over your ability to get up.

Stupid. Disgusting. More disturbing words play through your head. You grew up with horrible parents, so the words didn’t hurt you as much. Before one caught you by the leg.

Helpless. Why that one all of a sudden. Maybe it’s the fact you try and help yourself as much as you can. Not wanting to put your own problems into others. Especially your boyfriend, Hyunjin.

You feel your empty eyes slowly tear up,

“I’m home pretty!” You hear your boyfriend say a few feet away. A slam of the door following behind,

“Oh. You’re right here.” He smiles and walks up to kiss your cheek. You keep your focus forward. You didn’t want him to see the pain in your eyes.

You sigh and look up knowing he’s gonna start questioning you. His face then turns into one of confusion as the tears start coming down your face quickly.

“Pretty? What’s wrong?” He feels his own eyes dry up. When you cry he feels like he’s going to cry,

“Nothing baby.” You state as you kiss his forehead. He grunts quietly and grabs your face,

“Don’t lie. What’s going on?” He speaks determined. You bite your lip. You let it go as you talk,

“I just feel so..tired. I feel like I can’t keep up with everything..” You look at him in his eyes. Obviously do to the fact he still has his hands on the sides of your face.

“I’m sorry pretty. I’m sorry you’re feeling that way. I’m glad you can talk to me. I did have to push you a little bit but not by a lot. I’m happy you trust me so much. If you need me, pretty. I’m here for your gorgeous face. Don’t ever feel like you’re worth nothing to anyone and like you can’t keep up. You’re worth so much to everyone. I would risk everything for you. And trust me I’ve seen you put your power to the test. You can keep up just fine pretty. It just might be the stress, you take up everyday. Maybe take a break. Even if it means days to weeks. We’re all okay with it as long as you are okay.” He gives you a speech as he kisses your face between some sentences. You smile softly and kiss his lips. He pulls away and sighs,

“Now what do you want for dinner? I can make some F/F?” He smiles a little. Your own smile growing larger. Glad he can comfort you in many different ways,

“I’m alright with that.” You reply,

“Let’s go make you some F/F then!”

———————————————————————————

Changbin:

You sing a soft melody. Today was your day off as the manager for stray kids. You felt your sour body move softly. Not wanting to hurt it anymore. You move your body from the stove to the sink. Wiping your hands so you can start cutting the fruit.

You were making dinner because that helps with stress for you. You move to the cutting board with the already washed fruit. You set it down gently and grab the clean knife. You slice the first piece of the cold apple.

You sigh and stare at the fruit and knife. You feel your eyes strain to the knife longer than before. Your breathing starts to pick up. You try and slow it down, but the air just won’t get into your body the right way.

You feel your body lower to the ground. Your legs to your chest. You put your head on your knees. And feel your breathing still as quick as before. You were to into the attack to here the door open and close.

You start to hear footsteps come towards the kitchen,

“My love? Are you in here?” Fuck. Changbin’s home. You try to stand, but your legs feel weak. You fall back into the ground and groan. You hear running stomps speed towards you.

You sob now feeling a headache,

“My love! Are you okay?” He grabs you by your upper body. He pulls you towards his chest as you cry. You grip his shirt and feel the tears make contact with your hand.

He grips you tighter and kisses your forehead,

“My love? Please answer me.” He grips you even tighter if possible. You feel your chest love violently with each sob coming from your mouth. You try to speak,

“I-I c-can’t b-breathe. I-I c-can’t do an-anything rig-right.” Your words are staggered everywhere. The cries and hard breathing getting in the way,

“Alright my love. It’s okay. I know you feel everything is harming you right now, but you’re safe. I promise you are safe in my arms. You don’t need to feel any pain mentally or physically anymore. I’m here to be your breathe you can’t reach and the tears that go down your cheek. I will relive your stress by leaving your body through them. Panicking is okay. It’s natural but I need you to try and calm down. I need you to breathe in for three seconds then let it out in three. Okay, my love?”

You look up at him eyes puffy and cutely red,

He calms you down with his words. You do as he says and try to breathe in threes. 1 2 3 in. 1 2 3 out. You repeat this in your empty void. You feel yourself stop crying and breathing slow down. You bring your hand up and wipe away the still wet tears. The dry ones sticking to your face.

You kiss his lips before he goes to shut the stove off and put the knife and fruits away. You feel the sleepiness take over. Your eyes slowly close, your head falling forward.

He turns around to see you asleep about to fall off the counter. He rushes over as he decides he’ll just do the dishes later. He picks you up again. He takes you up stairs. He walks into the bedroom and sets you on the bed under the comforter. He kisses your forehead for the third time today.

“Sleep well, my love.”

———————————————————————————

Lee know:

You stretch your limbs and hear that satisfying pop. You lay back down in your bed. You look to Lee know’s side of the bed. You sigh seeing him not there. You feel your eyes tear up.

You had a nightmare a few days ago that started exactly like this. Lee know leaves, he says he’s staying out late, you go to see him, you ask him how he’s doing, he gives dry replies, you’re confused, and then he just tells you he’s tired of you.

You feel a tear go down one of your cheeks. Another one following behind. You hear your phone vibrate. You turn around. You see a text from Lee know,

“Emotionless” baby

Hey darling. I won’t make it tonight I have to work late. I’m sorry!!

Your heart drops. No this can’t be happening.

Okay babe. Do you mind if I see you later?

You stress as you wait for the answer. You swallow nothing and stand up out of the bed. You grab your phone off the charger. You walk to the bathroom and brush your teeth. Not having your eyes on the phone, just in case it’s something bad he text back.

You take your clothes off and get into the shower. You decided to just check later.

— little time skip —

You get out the closet with your new clothes putting them on quickly. You took your time in the shower. Wanting to see him as soon as possible. You grab your keys and get to the entrance of the house. You open the door and rush to your car.

You basically speed to JYP Entertainment. You get to the doors and walk in. The receptionist nods at you and lets you pass. You get to the elevator and get upstairs. You get to the studio and open the last door in your way slowly.

You see Lee know laughing with Chan. You sigh and walk up behind him,

“Hey.” You said from behind him. When he turns around he smiles widely,

“Hey darling.” He keeps smiling as he hugs you. You smile and hug him back. Feeling the relief spread throughout your body,

“What are you doing here?” He asks,

“I asked you if I could see you. I’m not sure if you answered though, so I just came.” You nod and smile.

He smiles and makes you sit down. Him soon sitting in your lap. You wrap your arms around him. You felt your heart pick up as you think he will just tell you how tired he is of you and then leave with Chan.

Your leg starts to move a lot with out you noticing. He turns around and looks at you. He sees you biting your lip which is something you do when anxious. He grows confused as he drags you outside the room,

“What’s wrong?” He grabs the sides of your face. You groan quietly. Screw his observation skills. You sigh,

“I’m fine. I just need to breathe.” He nods and holds your hands. You feel your eyes tear up just slightly. He grabs your cheeks and wipes the slow tears.

“Are you sure you just “need to breathe?”” You nod but he obviously doesn’t believe you. He wipes the tears then hugs you again.

You burst out with tears. He holds you tighter,

“Whatever that is harming you right now. Does not matter darling. I’m here, Chans here, Hyunjins here, Changbins here. We’re all here for you darling. You can cry, and we’ll be your shoulders. We’ll wipe your tears before they touch your chin. We’ll be your sunny days in your own dark nights. Darling we love you. I love you, and I won’t ever stop loving you. I will be here for your lonely cries and your lonely thoughts. I won’t let you go. We will keep you safe and with us. We’ll stay with you as long as you need us to darling. We love you okay?”

You sob hearing the sweet words of one of you lovers. He stops hugging you and kisses your soft lips. He smiles at you softly but sadly. You smile back with more confidence than before.

God, do I love them.

———————————————————————————-

Im done y’all!! YAY! I’m so happy I can post this for you guys. I get I was gone, but like I said I didn’t have motivation. Yet now I’m out of school, so I can write more for you!!!!! But we still don’t speak of that. We never know what might happen. Have runs reading other stuff y’all while y’all wait for me.

#short imagine #gender neutral reader #skz x reader #skz x male reader #top male reader #uke male reader #stray kids

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amee-racle-ofmyown · 4 months

Text

(for some reason tumblr wouldn't let me edit the post draft? so I've had to screenshot this ask)

how can I say no to someone asking me so nicely for heist mark content? and thank you!! I'm so happy you enjoy it🥺💖

I decided to go with 11. picking a leaf/flower petal out of their hair, or brushing dirt off of their face

mud on my face and heart on my sleeve, when I'm with you

Heist!Mark x reader | Words: 1,264 | Read on AO3

A masters degree in digging, huh?

A bad luck magnet and reckless idiot at times though he may be, your partner in crime never failed to surprise you.

You were left reeling, barely enough time to process the deep hole that had appeared on the floor of your shared cell in what was surely an impossible amount of time. Or had it been longer, and you had simply zoned out while he was digging? No, that didn't seem right.

Years of carefully planned heists — down to the precise minute for certain jobs — had allowed you to develop a near impeccable sense of time. But today you felt strange, as if something was throwing off that instinct, making you doubt your judgement.

Self-doubt, however, was something you could not afford to pay any mind on a high-stakes job such as this, especially when Mark always seemed to rely so heavily on your choices in the heat of the moment. So instead, you allowed yourself to indulge in his confidence, using it as a springboard to bring you back to certitude.

You followed him down into the tunnel as the two of you made your way under the penitentiary to the Warden's office.

When you emerged, the pair of you were covered head to toe in soil and dust. It wasn’t the first time you had both ended up dirty on a heist, having to throw your clothes in the laundry when you returned to base, but the smug satisfaction and relief that came with bringing home your loot was always well worth it.

Once you had secured The Box, it was only a matter of fooling the nearest prison guard into aiding your escape. You watched as Mark absolutely milked his performance, feeding the guard some sob story he’d made up on the fly about him and his grandmother both being on death’s door, while you gestured dramatically to emphasise parts of his tale when it felt appropriate.

You struggled to stay composed seeing Mark’s expressions — he’d always been one for theatrics. In your opinion, he was overdoing it too much for the act to be convincing, but all that really mattered was the guard was completely buying into it, far too distracted by Mark to notice you fighting to contain your laughter (or the gaping hole in the ground, apparently).

‘I know this sacrifice, and what it means to you. But it means so much more to me,’ Mark declared with as much gratitude as he could muster, clutching the guard’s phone tightly.

The guard responded with various distressed noises, and you honestly couldn’t believe how well this was going.

‘But if also, you know, I could hear my gran-gran’s voice in peace,’ Mark continued somberly. ‘I don’t want you to hear her. She’s real sick.’

‘Ok, yeah, she’s probably got some kind of weird co- I get it,’ the poor guard stuttered.

‘They’re okay, they can hear it,’ Mark said, nodding and gesturing to you.

‘Yeah you guys — y’all shower together n’ whatnot,’ the guard replied, getting up to leave.

Mark nodded dismissively while you frowned and raised an eyebrow at the guard’s words. As he trudged sadly down the hall, though, you felt a little bad for lying to him. Either he was going through something himself or was just a particularly emotional guy.

Mark perked up, dropping the act as soon as the guard was out of earshot. ‘Well, that was easier than I thought it’d be. But we got a phone, which is the only thing we need to get outta here.’

You stood up, stepping towards the edge of the room and poking a finger against the gate, which the guard had conveniently left ajar, pushing it wide open with a creak.

You turned to look at Mark, then back, gesturing to the open cell door and the obvious escape before you.

‘Nooo, that’s too easy. We’ll leave that as a backup plan for our backup plan. I’ve got a call to make.’

You simply rolled your eyes. At times like this, it was better to just let your heist partner do his thing.

You hear Bubba’s voice over the phone, letting you know he’ll arrive in five.

‘Now, I don’t know if that was five hours or five minutes—’

The squeal of tires is all the warning you get before a pickup truck bursts through the back wall of the cell rear-end first and you hear Bubba yell for you to get in.

What immediately transpires is a blur of motion as you feel adrenaline in your veins and your heart thrumming in your ribcage. Mark ushers you to the back of the vehicle, yanking the door open and letting you go first as you clamber into the safety of the cargo bed, pushing aside fallen bricks from the collapsed wall. Mark follows suit, pulling the door closed behind him, and the car speeds away into the night.

You barely register the chill of the October air as you cling to the back of the truck with your left hand.

The autumn wind whips at Mark's hair as he crouches beside you. You can't help but think he looks gorgeous despite his roughed up appearance, all the dirt from the tunnel and the rubble from the broken wall.

He shoots you a grin, looking positively ecstatic, and you can practically feel the triumph and thrill that radiates off him. It's the same feeling coursing through your nerves as well.

You have had close encounters with the authorities before, but breaking out of prison is a new high for you both.

You give him a wide smile in return, and when he looks directly into your eyes everything around you seems to slow and obscure out of focus. All that matters in this moment is that you're both safe and free, and all his attention is solely on you. The space between you feels static and you think to yourself that any risk, any close call, is worth it for him to be smiling at you like this.

You reach out towards his face with your free hand, cupping his cheek in your palm. His eyes widen a fraction but he doesn't say a word or make a move to pull away.

You almost miss how he leans ever so slightly into your touch as you swipe at the dirt with your thumb.

‘Your face is all dirty, dummy.’

‘So’s yours.’

Your other hand comes up to hold the other side of his face and you shift slightly, steadying yourself (not that you really need to, you seem to have slowed down enough that you won't fall out suddenly and besides, you trust Mark enough to grab you in time should that be a real danger).

His left hand comes up to your right to tenderly hold your wrist in place.

His skin feels warm against yours, stubble tickling your palms. You wipe at the dirt and dust with both thumbs this time.

Your faces are inches apart now. You can't ignore the way his eyes flicker very briefly down to your lips, and you have half a mind to kiss his stupid, smug face right then and there.

The moment is broken as Bubba calls out to you both from the driver seat, letting you know that you'll be far enough to stop soon.

As you and Mark exit the vehicle though, the rush remains present, and it isn't just from the thrill of escaping. His gaze and touch send you on a roller coaster of their own.

#aww. all that only for bob to pull a gun on them😔💔 LMAO #(EDIT UHH. this was scheduled for 10 pm my time I have no idea why it posted now tumblr is broken💀 whatever I guess)#I tried to keep y/n speaking to a minimum #I want to make a more concentrated effort to write them and the captain as selectively mute or very quiet #not for all my fics but some #coming up with a title was the hardest part of this #thank you for requesting!! and for reading🫶 I really missed getting writing requests honestly #amee writes #ahwm #a heist with markiplier #heist mark #heist!mark #mark iplier #heist mark x y/n #heist mark x reader #heist!mark x y/n #heist!mark x reader #partners in crime #x reader

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heartsick-honeybee · 11 months

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Okay. Now I'm fucking mad.

But since you keep blocking me let me just air this out.

You can call me immature all you want but let's get some things straight

First off I never said a fucking word to you or about you before you blocked me. And then you unblock me to send me this crap and block me again, okay

Second off, she NEVER ONCE USED YOUR NAME. You made a PUBLIC POST with her name on it. And EVEN when she DEFENDED herself she STILL didn't use your name.

In addition as far as your very public "server" comment. Yeah, pretty sure you mean me. And again. I didn't say any names. Presuming I meant you kind of seems like guilt to me. Particular as I in fact didn't SOLEY mean you.

That day YOU weren't the one the initial Convo was even about.

That's guilt.

But I digress.

You tell me not to insinuate something and on the same breathe apparently are going to start a war because she defended herself WITHOUT even using your name? That's fucking cute.

Oh and it's also cute how you wrote me but not her.

Let's get this straight.

She is the nicest fucking person I've met in my life.

She is sweet and kind and mild and just doesn't have it to stand up for herself the way is needed here.

I, on the other hand am not. I have no such reservations. I'm a bitch. You chose the wrong one of us to write. ESPECIALLY before blocking because I'm going to say my fucking piece and if you would rather have it public than private than then be my fucking guest.

"I'm going to screenshot this for my benefit"

But not actually have that conversation? Just so you can show people you wrote me for the clout and woah is me? Clout this.

Words can be misread, actions aren't misread.

I saw that post and that person said nothing that wasn't kind about EITHER if you. You did not have to start shit.

Especially something about her not supporting other writers? That's funny considering you blocked her first.

As far as you not reading her shit that's also funny since you had it bookmarkes on A03 before she came to Tumblr.

The fact you'd blatantly have 1500+ followers and use your popularity with them to publically post lies against someone who's new here to the point she's being bullied off the site is absolute fucking bullshit.

"You're misreading my tone. I'm offended you'd insinuate "

IT IS BULLYING. THIS IS BLATANTLY BULLYING. DO YOU NOT KNOW WHAT BULLYING IS?

And to someone who won't defend themselves?! That post she put is hardly even a defense. And the fact you can publically post WITH HER NAME trying to play the victim and talking shit and yet start shit over what little she did to defend herself, absolutely fuck you.

Yes you're right, I am 32. I am too old for this shit. I am too old for assholes like you who think growing-up means condoning 16yr old level bullying without saying a word because apparently being an adult means ignoring it.

Absolutely not. Being an adult means you shouldn't fucking be doing it and I am SURELY going to call you out on your shit if you think it's so cute to play these games.

You really wanted to say something, you want to write me, you write me and we talk inbox. You wanted to be a coward and get your little bit in and block me, don't blame me for everyone seeing your dirty laundry, this is what you wanted.

Here's a new thought. Instead of lying to your fans to play the victim here why don't you tell them the truth.

All of this started before she ever said a single word to or about you.

All of this started BEFORE SHE EVEN JOINED TUMBLR.

But you don't want to include that part do you Finnie?

I AM KINDLY RELYING ON SOME MUTUAL TO SCREENSHOT THIS AND SEND IT TO HER since she only unblocks when it's convenient. THANKS.

New Edit:

I took this down because Finnie talked to me personally and asked if we could mutually let this drop, and we agreed. Despite the fact I only posted this one thing and they, throughout the time made SEVERAL harmful post even publically calling us names and acting like WE bullied YOU, But hey, we agreed anyway. And this post has been taken down for a few weeks and no further have been made... Only for them to talk shit non-stop this entire fucking time.

I am sick of this.

I am absolutely sick of your gaslighting victim playing lying bullshit.

You're such a goddamned narcissist.

You and your little circlejerk of friends that claim youd "NEVER BULLY ANYONE" even while you're blatantly making public posts calling someone a vile cunt is ridiculous. You can keep patting eachother in the back with your fucking pity party bullshit.

You literally bullied her into deleting her account.

And yes, telling harmful lies about how someone is "being mean to you for no reason" after you blatantly outted their name publically for no other reason than YOUR OWN GODDAMNED PARANOIA is shit.

Because you DECIDED that some fucking rando no one ever heard of literally copy pasting on AO3 MUST mean YOU.

What the ABSOLUTE fuck is wrong with you?!

And no, I'm not down to play with this.

If you're reading this and your first thoughts are

"Omg it's so childish to speak up, being an adult is accepting bullying" then you can absolutely suck my dick and choke on it.

Your mentality is the problem with the world.

Being an adult is knowing when to speak up against injustice.

And anyone who's ignorant enough to think I'm full of shit for no other reason than I am angry and speaking crass need to revaluate their life and values..

Yes I am mad. Someone should be.

If you're stupid enough to believe a narcissist because they're playing stupid and throwing a tantrum, do PLEASE block me. The fact the majority of you people automatically took their side without even ASKING Caesaria a goddamned word despite having supposedly been fans says enough to me.

You don't care what the truth is, CLEARLY, or your have gone out of your way to talk to HER and get both sides.

You made up your mind from the first moment because you have bias towards a narcissistic disgusting excuse for an individual who's playing you all like a flute.

Or for a few of you who commented on this, because you're the same type of person and condemning them while doing the same shit makes you look bad, right?

Fuck. You.

On the bright side since Caesaria deleted her account, I can finally speak my mind. She didn't want to cause more uproar.

I on the other hand am sick of seeing this one sided bullshit.

Yes. Of course you privately inboxed us privately asking us to delete our side meanwhile being very vocal on your end to make everything completely one sided. You must manipulate people a lot, huh?

I would love to note.

In the original post I didn't talk shit.. I didn't do anything but state the facts.

Now? Now yeah, I'm being a cunt. After all, you publically called me one in your post I may as well make SOMETHING you said have a shred of truth, right? You're fucking welcome. 🩷

Oh and one more thing.

"inb4" the whole "you're making enemies" thing...

Any person who is such a terrible human being as to be a part of this crap is NO ONE I'd ever want to associate with at my WORST of days.

All I'm doing is causing a group of gross people out themselves upfront.

Getting rid of shitty people in mass is much less problematic than ending up dealing with them individually in the long run anyway.

Good riddance.

#finniestonecrane #bullying #fanfiction #fanfic #nygma #nigma #riddler #immature #areyoufuckingserious #dontplaygameswithme #dontusepopularitytobullynyfriends #aita

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the-oc-lass · 5 months

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Nimona OC - Charlotte Swiftheart/Corova

Arrives two days late with Starbucks hot chocolate because I don't like coffee

Hello tumblr, I have returned. It was a zoned out weekend and I didn't do anything productive other than laundry. But to make up for it, I have a drabble for you! So, there's that.

Also, I did a little bit of medical research for this (heavy emphasis on "a little"), but I have no idea what I'm talking about, honestly.

TW: Canonical missing limb depiction, crude medical practice, blood mentions

First, Previous, Next

She adjusts his arm around her shoulders, glancing at him in panic. He's slumped against her, and she feels like she's going to throw up. She rapidly knocks out the pattern on the pipe by the door, and it opens.

"Good Gloreth!" Grive exclaims, quickly allowing them inside. Ballister stumbles slightly, and she shifts to catch them and accommodate his extra weight.

"I've got you, I've got you. It's gonna be okay, Bal," she says, hoping that she's better at convincing him than she is at convincing herself. She turns away and looks at Grive. "Get Norshe." He nods and scurries off, and Charlotte leads Ballister further inside. They have a small designated medical area, but she knows it doesn't have what he needs. He's missing a damn arm. He could bleed out and die here. The thought makes panic rise in her stomach, but she pushes it away and gets him onto the shaky bench. She takes a moment to breathe, pushing her hair out of her face so that she can see properly, then moves to Ballister's other side. She removes the pauldron from his injured shoulder, and it's the first time she gets a good look at his arm. Or...Lack of an arm. She feels the blood drain from her face at the sight. Good Gloreth, Ambrosius, what have you done? She forces herself to focus, ripping off her belt. She loops it over what's left of his arm, then quickly starts pulling it tight. Ballister groans as she gets it into place, and she reaches over to brush his hair out of his face.

"I know, I know. But this is going to keep you alive, okay? I'm going to make sure you're okay," she says. His eyes crack open, and she feels what remains of his right arm twitch, as if he were going to reach for her with it.

"Ambrosius?" he calls, clearly delirious from the blood loss. She wants to cry.

"Good Gloreth." Charlotte turns her head, and Norshe is standing at the opening in the curtains, eyes wide. As Charlotte looks back at her desperately, Norshe quickly rushes inside. "We need to cauterize."

"What?" Charlotte exclaims. Norshe grabs a bottle of antiseptic and some rags, dragging a small cart over and setting everything on it.

"I need you to disinfect the wound. I'm going to heat up my knife, and we'll cauterize to stop the bleeding," she says, speaking in a tone that feels far too calm for the situation at hand. But Charlotte nods, feeling practically numb, and she quickly does as Norshe asked as her partner leaves again. Ballister hisses at the sting of the antiseptic, and Charlotte gently shushes him. She can't help but notice how her hands are trembling as she works. Norshe returns, her knife glowing from how hot it is. "Chari, I need you to hold him down while I do this." Charlotte nods, watching as Norshe takes her belt off as well, folding it before she encourages Ballister's mouth open slightly. Something to bite down on so he doesn't break his jaw. Once again, Charlotte feels sick. She reaches over to press one hand on his other shoulder, and her forearm presses down on his chest. She looks toward Norshe, who has her free hand on Ballister's shoulder. They make eye contact for a moment, then Norshe nods. Charlotte can't watch as she brings the burning knife to Ballister's severed arm, and she presses all of her weight down as Ballister tries to rear up, screaming from the pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut as she repeats it over and over. All at once, Ballister's body goes limp, and the screaming stops. She opens her eyes, tears blurring her vision, and looks at Norshe in panic.

"He just passed out from the pain. It's alright," she says. An awful burning smell reaches Charlotte's nose, and she turns away again to bow her head, forehead resting against Ballister's armor. Her only comfort is the erratic rise and fall of his chest, telling her that he's still alive. She finally lets out a sob, and then she can no longer stop herself.

Lovely tagged people:

@ammonitetheseaserpent @perfectkittystranger

#nimona #nimona oc #nimona movie #nimona 2023 #nimona film #ballister boldheart #injury #canon severed arm #oc: charlotte swiftheart/corova

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skelly-words · 8 months

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JJK characters at the smoke sesh

SFW

I was smoking so I thought of this, just some little headcanons.

It's kind of reader insert because 'you' being there is implied, but not romantic, or just ignore it if that's not your thing.

also, I'm new to posting my writing on tumblr, so let me know if I'm doing anything wrong and what I should be writing, anyway... HCs

Gojo

Do NOT give him aux, not that his music taste is bad, but he'd purposefully play some wacky bs (think Minecraft remixes and bad SoundCloud rap) just to piss off everyone else.

He gets the giggles when he's high, everything is funny and he's crying a little from how much he laughs.

Gojo's tolerance is so low that he's only in the rotation for the first couple of bowls. (guys I can't roll, but we get creative with the DIY bongs.)

He brings snacks, but they're all sweet and he eats most of them.

Talks the whole group into playing dumb party games (truth or dare, would you rather, 20 questions). And he's fully invested too. Nobody else actually cares and he's standing there scolding you, "no it's important. If you had to pick one of us to go, who would it be, me or Nanami?" Cries when everyone picks him.

Geto

Here's the better music option. I can't say exactly what he'd play because it's different every time. He has a playlist for every mood.

Brings the savory snacks, most of them are spicy. I think he'd also pull up with a tupperware of leftovers too, but just for him. There's never enough for everybody, but maybe you could talk him into giving you a few bites.

He'd start doing random conventional tasks so incredibly wrong. Geto would be baked, and just stand up to start doing laundry. As long as you keep him away from the kitchen, he's fine.

The English language no longer exists. He just makes up words that sound similar to the intended definition. Mixes these in with his long-winded monologues about life or when he's trying to convince you to let him use the stove.

He's a lighter stealer, don't let it out of your sight or it'll disappear. He'll help you look for it too, until someone just offers theirs (which will also be stolen).

Nanami

Quiet. He's just in his own head.

The only one man enough to text the plug (even if he sounds like a fucking cop, he does his best).

Does not condone underage smoking, these are his loose college years. So if you're under 21 (sorry broski) gtfo.

He zones out a lot, just staring at the floor.

Swears up and down that he's not high when he's been counting the floorboards for the past twenty minutes.

You also have to keep him out of the kitchen because Nanami doesn't want cheetos, he needs REAL food. But if you let him cook before he smokes, the munchies are immaculate.

The only time you'll see his hair messy. It's like the hair gel gives up after the first hit.

Shoko

She starts eating the snacks before you've even packed the first bowl. Also stashes her favorites for later before anyone else can get to them.

Funks up the function with her cigarettes too. Everyone groans when she pulls her pack out.

Highest tolerance of the group, or maybe she just keeps it together the best even when she's tripping.

And she never passes that shit either (it's okay 'cause she's pretty). Whoever's next to her is getting straight ash.

Utahime

She's only there when Shoko is so she can have a Satoru buffer.

She'll get all soft and sappy though, complimenting random features and attributes of whoever's shoulder she's leaning on.

Honestly, really nice to be around.

She also likes sweets as munchies, but it kinda works out because she and Gojo only get along when they're stoned.

Gets bullied into getting fast food when the snacks run out.

Mei Mei

She only smokes girl blunts, rolls them herself, and doesn't share.

Probably doesn't even come most of the time.

She doesn't talk to anyone until she's hungry, and then all of a sudden gets friendly as she sneaks a hand into the pretzel bag you're holding.

#jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento #shoko ieiri #utahime iori #skel procrastinates

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plexippusangel · 2 months

Text

Jesus my mom was literally gloating yesterday about finding opportunities to make me work to make ends meet bc "we're not a family that gives support for free" meanwhile she's not even paying me minimum wage and she has given my sisters SO MUCH for free and I'm not saying they should get less but I would like some too maybe? I did give her a look I could not pretend to be civil about that.

Like what the fuck. Who deserves it if not me??? I was changing your youngest child's diapers when I was FOUR YEARS OLD and you used to brag to your friends about how responsible I was for doing that. They all wished they had a kid like me to help out!!! I deserve back pay honestly. Some of my mom colleagues were talking about how it makes sense that my mom isn't letting her grown daughter living with her help with the laundry since the kids always do it wrong, meanwhile I was doing the majority of the laundry in the house from the time I was 12, and I just had to laugh that shit off. Oh, I was getting yelled at for folding my dad's socks and underwear wrong, but I was doing the damn laundry.

I had to beg for money on tumblr to get money for doctors' appointments for the infection that fucking disabled me. For six fucking months, I repeatedly had to wait until I got enough money together AND could beg someone to give me a ride with that shit festering just because I was working and my parents didn't think it was fair to give me money when I??? Had a job too??? Yeah my student job where I was spending all my money buying food on campus because I didn't have the strength to cook for myself because I had a fever for months on end and was dissociating because of the level of pain I was in. I had professors stocking food and ordering food for events that they knew nobody would eat just so they could send it home with me because they could tell I was struggling. Oh, and the rest of my money was going to groceries my sister would eat with her eating disorder that my parents did nothing to treat. And tuition, since my scholarship and financial aid covered almost everything but I didn't get any help with what was left.

If my parents didn't have the money, I'd get it, but they fucking do. I almost wasn't ALLOWED to apply for FAFSA because they didn't want me seeing how much money they made and feeling betrayed that they put all their cash into big house instead of college fund.

Idk. I'm just angry because there is so much shit that I deal with where I can see exactly where it came from and how it could have been avoided. I could be healthy right now. I could be driving my Subaru around taking my kayak up to the late on the weekends in summer, cross country skiing in the fall, out and proud, maybe with a gorgeous partner, maybe not, but in another life I could have been so, so happy.

And I do okay for myself! And I love myself! And I am proud of where I've managed to get myself even when it feels impossible but what the FUCK

#faer personal files #i might delete this later i am just feeling so angry about so much shit and i'd be writing this in my diary if i didn't need there to be a #chance that somebody would see it #parentified child bullshit

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absentcaryatid · 2 years

Text

Three Guys and Your Underwear

An ATEEZ fanfic by AbsentCaryatid

Yeosang is your boyfriend. Seonghwa is your roommate. Hongjoong is your best friend since preschool. One day you came home to find all three of them hovering over your dirty laundry basket inhaling the scent of your underwear. Can they explain what they were up to in a way that makes them completely innocent of doing exactly what they were caught doing?

2.5K words, Content note: gender neutral reader referred to with they/them pronouns, underwear sniffing, innuendo laden but still probably squeaks by for all tumblr using ages

There were three perverts standing around the laundry basket in your bedroom. Huddled together, your best friend Hongjoong, roommate Seonghwa, and boyfriend Yeosang had been sniffing away at a pair of your underwear. They were so engrossed that they apparently missed your greeting called from the front door on arrival. When you announced your presence in your bedroom doorway Hongjoong screamed and as a group they shot about six feet in the air being caught at their activity. Seonghwa looked guilty and Yeosang froze. You stared at them and they stared at you.

Bordering on yelling, nervously Yeosang claimed, “We can explain in a way that makes us completely innocent of exactly what it looks like we were doing.”

“Okay, try me. Please tell me this isn’t what it looks like.” The trio audibly relaxed a little until you narrowed your eyes and amended, “But make it believable.”

“It isn’t, I promise,” Seonghwa pleaded.

You snorted. “Isn't what it looks like, or isn't believable?”

There was laughter at your comment. Yeosang cut it off quickly at your look though. He could be bold sometimes, but was not a fool.

Ever the rules lawyer, Hongjoong hedged, “What does it look like?” His attempt at innocent doe eyes did nothing for you.

You took in a deep breath while pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’m going to say this nicely on the very slim chance there truly is a reasonable explanation for you three to be standing beside my dirty laundry and huffing my underpants, but what is going on, guys? You need to tell me, now.”

Yeosang, the true love of your life, snatched the underclothes out of Seonghwa’s grasp and hid them behind himself as if you had not just seen everything. He was a smart man, but fright tended to dull his intelligence. While you had not gotten very intimate yet, Yeosang had on some happy occasions viewed you in your underwear so him handling a pair was not as embarrassing for you as it could have been.

Hongjoong was also no stranger to your underwear having helped you try on outfits for years. And then there was the public airing of thankfully clean laundry in the living room that Seonghwa as your roommate did not bat an eye at. So, among the three of them, no one was completely unfamiliar with your intimates. And yet, none of that could be compared to finding their noses buried in a pair as they stood beside your dirty laundry, inhaling deeply.

While you felt there was absolutely nothing wrong with people finding scents arousing, certainly enough of your boyfriend's worn shirts found their way to your bed for cuddling up to his comforting scent, your lack of consent put a different spin on things. Yeosang was somewhat forgivable as a long-term romantic partner, but the man you shared the apartment with and your friend from preschool? Knowing all three as well as you did, it truly seemed out of character. Holding off on getting upset, you took a huge leap of faith and said, “I trust this is a misunderstanding.”

“It totally is,” Hongjoong blurted in a panicked voice you had not heard him use since you had caught him on the verge of flagrante delicto with Seonghwa on your bed last year after Seonghwa's old bed had broken under mysterious circumstances. So yet again, it was not necessarily what was going on but how your things were involved. After all, your best friend and your roommate had been a couple for some time so any activity between them was natural and generally to be expected, but not on your sheets if you had any say in it.

Thumb and forefingers rubbing your forehead, you warily decided to have this conversation rather than go for a walk and return to the apartment pretending nothing had happened. “Okay.” Another deep breath helped center you, somewhat. “Good thing you are about to explain because it seems like I have discovered three men in my life are standing in my bedroom smelling my underwear.”

“Yes,” Yeosang admitted, drawing the word out slowly while keeping the clothing at his back. “But it is definitely not like you think.” Watching the stern look on your face he quickly raised his palms and waved them wildly, underwear included. Hongjoong got the giggles watching the briefs flail as Seonghwa flinched at the sight. Stilling, Yeosang reassured, “It is totally fine, these underpants of yours are clean.”

Changing from shock to confusion you looked at the trio oddly. “Do you not understand the point of panty sniffing? I don't want to have to explain it to you.”

Regaining more of his usual humor, Hongjoong laughed at your words. “It really is not like that, I can promise you.” Meanwhile Seonghwa was still mortified and while profusely mumbling apologies he left for the kitchen wondering if he could ever look his roommate in the eyes again.

Taking your hand and leading you out of the bedroom to defuse the situation, Yeosang implored, “I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for this!” Following his lead and sitting on the couch at his side, you watched him place the underwear on the clothes drying rack in front of him. The fact that there had been a spot available to fit the underpants lent credence to the claim they were clean after all. “If you keep an open mind, I will tell you what happened.”

“Good luck,” Hongjoong cheerfully called as he ducked out the door. Yeosang ruefully watched his own roommate exit, escaping from this embarrassing conversation. The two men lived together and that was how you had met your beloved boyfriend in the first place. As much as you loved Hongjoong, his level of housekeeping left something to be desired so you never even considered moving in together after college when you both were in need of a place at shared rates. Seeking roommates, you had been lucky to find Seonghwa through an ad and Hongjoong found Yeosang the same way. Hanging out regularly at one apartment or the other across town, it had worked out conveniently when you and your best friend each fell for the other's roommate.

By now you tired of travel between Yeosang's place and your own and had decided to move in together. Hongjoong wanted the same with Seonghwa, as long as he would put up with your best friend's constant messes, so a trade of residences was in the works. In fact, that was what had led to today's altercation as you would discover when your boyfriend described the events.

“I feel like some kind of weirdo doing this,” Seonghwa admitted.

“There is nothing wrong with what we are up to,” Yeosang argued.

“But what if we are caught? It would look bad.”

“Seonghwa, you see their underwear drying in the living room all the time so there’s nothing odd about this.”

Hongjoong interrupted Yeosang, “I would like to believe it works like that, but I don’t think that’s true.”

The youngest in the group smiled, “There’s hardly a difference between seeing underwear and sniffing it. Does the sense we are using to examine it really matter?”

The other two looked at him dubiously. Seonghwa wrung his hands and said, “This definitely feels like crossing a line and we are toast if they find out. Hurry it up, they will be back soon.”

“Telling me Seonghwa and Hongjoong were uneasy with what you three were up to says nothing about how it happened. I am still waiting to know why it was going on, Yeosang.”

“Okay, okay. I am making this a good story, I want it to be interesting to tell our kids one day when we can all laugh about it.”

“Yeosang, you are not selling yourself well as father material if you think underwear sniffing is an appropriate topic for children.”

Looking shocked, he clarified, “They could hear about it as adults. I do have some judgement.”

“I have yet to see it,” you impatiently snarked. He sent you a withering look. It left you wondering if he was going to petulantly withhold his tale in retribution. “Please continue,” you asked nicely.

His voice dripped smarm as he bowed to your request. “Of course! Anything for you, my love.” Yeosang was enjoying this situation far too much. Maybe he knew he could vindicate himself after all.

Answering the door chime, your roommate Seonghwa had greeted Yeosang who arrived a little earlier than expected. “Here for them? Of course you are, come on in.”

Your boyfriend eased off his shoes and placed them on the rack nearby.

“They are not home yet but should be soon. Come sit in the living room and raid the fridge if you need to.” Seonghwa waved your boyfriend in then trustingly left for his own room again. Normally you would have been fine with this arrangement but for once you had not put away the drying rack filled with your underthings from a recent wash day. They were air drying to spare their elastic from the harsh heat of the dryer, but now on full display for the guest.

Struck by an idea, Yeosang picked up one of the underpants before him and started smelling it thoughtfully. Again and again he sniffed. And that was when Seonghwa walked back into the living room and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight. “I could hear you from my room and thought you needed a tissue for all that sniffling.” With a disdainful glare, he threw the box at Yeosang testily. “Guess you still might need a tissue if you keep that up, you perv. You do you, but not on my couch.”

Stunned at the insinuation, Yeosang's mouth hung open. “I was only trying to figure out the brand of detergent to buy and keep at my place so they have everything they like already set up on moving day.”

“Oh, right,” Seonghwa replied, instantly regretting his rudeness when the actual reason for the activity was a caring one, despite how it appeared.

Laughing, Yeosang agreed he probably had not seemed so innocent and Seonghwa's reaction was understandable.

“I think your partner keeps the washing powder in their closet by the laundry basket. I don't think they would mind if we went in there to look.”

“So that is how we ended up in your room,” Yeosang explained as you nodded along.

“But Hongjoong too?”

Like Yeosang, Hongjoong had a key to this apartment too but he was less hesitant to use it and barged on in determined to surprise his boyfriend with a visit. Hearing talk coming from your bedroom, he arrived to find Seonghwa and Yeosang nose deep in a pair of Y-front style underwear. He recognized the teal shade, part of the Star Wars ewok Underoos set he had seen you purchase on a recent shopping day together.

Understanding Seonghwa was utterly besotted with him, Hongjoong did not assume the worst despite what he saw. Instead, he was far more interested in the slit along the crotch you had added since buying them. Best friends don't necessarily know everything about each other. Perhaps you were not as timid as it had always seemed when it came to physical relationships.

Looking up somewhat guiltily, Seonghwa greeted his partner. “We are trying to recognize their detergent brand so Yeosang can have it ready to use at his place. I have no idea who makes this scent. I just use whatever they have bought, but it is divided into in a smaller container so we don't have to lug the heavy box down to the laundry room each time. The original packaging must be stored somewhere else.”

Relieved, Hongjoong requested, “Let me smell, maybe it will be familiar.” The underpants were passed to Hongjoong and it was his turn to breathe in the aroma. He thought for a bit and could not place it other than knowing it was the scent of hugging you.

“I already told you the rest of the conversation from there until you walked in. It was so familiar, we were sure we could remember the brand if we just kept trying.” Yeosang wrapped an arm around you and came in for a kiss which you eagerly accepted. He then asked, “Am I forgiven?”

Your broad smile held the answer. “Yeah. You know I can never stay mad at you, and this time there is no reason to anyway when you have been so thoughtful.” Looking at Yeosang in wonder, you did have one more question. “Why my underwear of all things? So much confusion could have been avoided if you had grabbed a sock from the rack instead or smelled a shirt once you were at my closet.”

“The vivid color drew my attention. I do like the shade and would love to see you in them sometime.” He raised an eyebrow. “The slit crotch gave me a surprise. I think we are really going to enjoy the benefits of living together.”

“Butterer. You are changing the subject though. I was really thrown to see you three with my underwear, and smelling them too. And Seonghwa and Hongjoong saw the cut I made in them! I might die of embarrassment.” You hung your head, shaking it slowly as it dawned on you what they must have thought. “Just like you had an outlandish tale to explain what I caught you doing, there is a simple explanation of my own. It is a crop top hack I heard about. Works as a light bra too for people who need that. Pretty comfortable actually and I like the look for hot days. If I had not been so stressed by the surprise I would have recognized it immediately as not actually underpants anymore so not really sniffing material anyway.”

“Hunh, a top. Not what I was expecting at all from the slit. Oh well.” Yeosang held one of your hands in his own and became serious. “I am truly sorry about you walking in on us and jumping to a reasonable conclusion.” He stroked your hair knowing from experience that was the best way to comfort you. Laughter always helped too. “Seonghwa showed us the laundry powder is kept in the recycled plastic container in your room. You are lucky I did not mindlessly read the label and offer you Cool Whip to wash your clothes when you move in.”

“Oh no, I have much better uses for that,” you said with a sly grin. “You are right that living together is going to bring us so many new opportunities.”

Yeosang wasn't quite sure what you had in mind but he looked forward to finding out.

Yeosang Masterlist

General Masterlist

#ATEEZ #ATEEZ Fluff #ATEEZ Fanfic #Kpop Fanfic #Kpop Fluff #Kang Yeosang #ATEEZ Yeosang #Yeosang #Yeosang x You #Yeosang x Reader #Gender Neutral Reader #Hongjoong #Seonghwa #It was a rare day off #fake smut #cross posted on ao3 #diverseinsertknet

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alexanderlightweight · 11 months

Note

Hi ! I hope you're doing well !

I was wondering if you still write prompts from last week ?

hey! it's a very hot day today but the only things i have to do are some paperwork, laundry, oh i need to make the chicken i thawed too... and ofc writing. oh i need to wash out Nightshade's pool, the last storm made it pretty gross with pollen again.

oh well, its a little busier than i thought but thats okay. I hope you're doing well too

Yes! I still write them

It might takes a little bit of time, but I’m trying to answer every prompt that comes to me! sometimes I answer that I won't answer a particular prompt but otherwise it means it's still going to be answered

i know it may not seem like it (i dont mean this in a bad way cause like, there is no way for people outside of my tumblr to know that's why i'm specifying) but i'm steadily working my way through the oldest of prompts and the newest of prompts by virtue of which ones light my brain up with 'oh i can write this right now!'

^_^

I've got 113 prompts in drafts and 40+ in my inbox so I'm hoping I can catch up in the next month or so on my days off. because i am a dragon and this is my hoard and i hate parting with any of the prompts lol

they all have to be filled! or answered

i hope this helps?

also in no way am i upset by how many prompts i have. a little sad it's taking me so long to get to some of them. but when im out working or busy in RL, i tend to scroll through my drafts and inbox and see if i can start mentally cataloging data for their future verses.

<3 lumine

(I posted this publically and i hope that's okay because i've had other questions like this and i'm trying to share as much info as possible)

#lumine answers asks #lumine talks to ppl #writing wednesday answers

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filthforfriends · 1 year

Text

The Hybrid (Part 2)

deranged Omegaverse Thomas x Damiano

Word count: 7k

I originally thought this was too unhinged and graphic to post on Tumblr, which is it has been exclusive to AO3 until now.

He expected Damiano to be…well Thomas wasn’t sure exactly but he didn’t expect him to be busy with house work. Thomas was cooking one of the few meals he knew how to make well, while Dami marched in and out of the laundry closet with endless piles of blankets, clothes, pillow cases, and bedding. He seemed focused and not to be in much discomfort, so Thomas just let him be. He had dealt with an extremely difficult heat, so if washing every piece of fabric in the house made him content, Thomas wasn’t about to interrupt.

“Dami, cucciolo, it's time for breakfast.” Thomas stopped and listened for oncoming footsteps then tried again. “I’m not going to mate you on a calorie deficit,” he called. When that got no response, he went looking for Daminao and found him in his bedroom closet, extremely concentrated. He was arranging the spare comforter he kept in there, with the only linens he hadn’t washed, their dirty sheets. He kept tucking pieces of clothing in one corner, and Thomas realized they were the clothes he wore yesterday.

“What are you doing with my dirty clothes, cucciolo?” Damiano looked up, hair falling into his face, like he hadn’t heard Thomas come in. For someone crawling around in a closet he didn’t look very self conscious, maybe just apprehensive that he’d been caught.

“You can have them back, but I need them now.” His tone leaves no room for argument, not that Thomas would.

“Whatever helps, sure…but, um, why?”

“Because,” he splutters, incredulously. Damiano sits back on his heels and Thomas can sense the wave of stress that rolls off of him. Maybe all that work was just him trying to quell his anxiety.

“Because they’re the only thing that smells good,” he professed. “In this whole fucking apartment. I woke up and everything smelled wrong, except you. Just, uh ew!” He makes a noise of disgust, face crumpling. “But now this spot smells right, with the sheets, and the clothes. So it’ll be okay after I wash everything.” Damiano takes a few deep breaths, trying to regulate, and Thomas decides that removing him from the only spot in his home that he liked wasn’t a great idea.

“Let me just get breakfast, okay?”

“Breakfast?” he chirps hopefully, looking up from rearranging. He's crouched down in briefs and a big t-shirt, in this nest of blankets. He’s nesting, Thomas realizes. In that moment he wants to wrap Damiano in bubble wrap and go ahead in time to murder anyone that might have a negative thought about his sweet little omega.

“Of course I’m gonna make sure you eat, cara mio.” Damiano bites his lip and his face breaks out in a full smile. “I made omelets and coffee.”

“Okay!” He seems to finally surface from whatever compulsion he’d been tending, surprised that the world had continued on, when his focus was elsewhere. His expression was so open and trusting, enthusiasm so pure. Thomas almost couldn’t stand to leave Dami when he went to the kitchen and loaded everything onto a tray. On the way back that aggression towards outside threats solidified itself, directed at Samuel, and any past mating partner of Dami’s. Thomas almost didn’t have perspective to recognize that this was textbook alpha ideation that should be ignored.

It wasn’t difficult to refocus when he rounded the corner into the bedroom, and found that Damiano had located his jacket and was integrating that into the nest as well. He was using it as a pillow case, scrunched into the same corner as the rest of Thomas’ dirty clothes. Their bedsheets smell like mating, but the scent Dami gave off is far more enticing to Thomas. Why have the two muddled together when he could get an untainted dose directly from his glands? Dami sat back on his heels with a sigh, proudly looking at the rumpled mess of fabric in the bottom of his closet.

“Do you like it?” he asked, obviously pleased with himself. Thomas’ first instinct was to say sure? However, his omega was beaming with so much pride he couldn’t do that.

“Yeah, it's great!” He set the tray down and sat on the bedroom floor, across from Damiano. Thomas knew omega’s were very particular about the scents in their nest, so he was careful not to disrupt anything. He took his coffee off the tray and observed Dami while he sipped. He looked deeply perturbed all of a sudden, and it could only be a reaction to Thomas.

“Is –”

“Get in,” he demanded. Thomas barely set the mug down in time for Dami to grab his arm and try to pull him inside the closet.

“Okay, okay,” he lamented, struggling to fit all his limbs in a nest barely big enough for someone half a foot shorter than him. Dami huffed impatiently until he settled, then somehow managed to fit his body against his like a puzzle piece. Thomas got the short end of the stick, having to eat only with his left hand, while his right was around Damiano’s abdomen. He couldn’t complain though, since he could literally feel the happiness radiating off of Dami. He alternated between taking huge bites, and nuzzling against Thomas, whose senses were so overwhelmed by Damiano’s pheromones that he couldn’t even taste his coffee.

It took him a minute to realize that Dami was scenting him. It felt a bit like smoking way too much THC way too fast. He was high, his sense of depth perception and body awareness fuzzy. Things calmed down after a moment and having the weight and warmth of another body helped. Sure kids fooled around with it, but scenting someone was a greater commitment then having sex with them. He wasn’t even sure if he should mention it. It may have been instinctual, not a completely conscious choice.

“Sorry, too much?” Damiano was looking over his shoulder at Thomas, whose eyes fluttered open then closed.

“Uh…” He really tries to form a sentence, but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth. Damiano leans forward and pulls a bottle of water from under the edge of the nest.

“Drink something,” he suggests, unscrewing the cap. Thomas takes a swig and chuckles.

“Everything tastes like you,” he mumbles, smiling. “Come back, I don’t mind it.” Thomas makes a come hither motion and Damiano sits between his legs, leaning against him, while his head rests on the wall. Thomas rubs Dami’s stomach absent mindedly, his other hand lazily playing with Daminao’s hair.

“You know,” he muses, “I’m realizing how weak my omega instincts are. Like I don’t nest or scent at all.”

“Really?” Damiano has started eating the blueberries brought from the kitchen, washed but still in the box.

“Yeah, my interactions with alphas have always been so,” he searches for a descriptor but ends up with “meh. Underwhelming, I guess. Like I never really cared…but with you,” Thomas squeezes Damiano and starts peppering his head with dramatic kisses. Damiano dissolves into giggles, wiggling infinitesimally closer to his attention.

“It’s different?” he prompts, doe-eyed and rosy.

“Yeah, it feels less unnatural,” he affirms. “I’m not really sure what to do with that realization. I mean, it explains why I can’t keep an alpha. I’m the worst lay of their life,” he chuckles.

“Well you could be the best lay of my life,” Dami counters. Thomas can’t help but laugh incredulously.

“Given I’m not an expert, even though I should be, but, don't omegas build nests because they don’t have an alpha? I am sitting in the evidence of my mediocrity, cucciolo. You shouldn’t need this.”

“That's not why,” Damiano counters, turning around and straddling Thomas to look him in the face.

“Then why?”

“Because, because I wasn’t sure if you were going to leave. I thought maybe this was an experiment for you.” He looks down at his hands, insecure. “There's a level of risk for you, and I know I wasn’t easy to deal with yesterday.”

“Cucciolo, I’m not going to leave,” he croons.

“Because if you’re going to leave, you need to do it now.” Dami’s jaw is so staunchly set that Thomas knows he’s holding back emotions.

“It’s not even an option for me, Damia. You can relax about that.” Daminao nods and rearranges himself back to the original position, but Thomas can feel his breathing is more labored.

“Cara mio, you really thought I’d just leave you after yesterday? I know my rut isn’t what you’re used to, but I’m gonna try my best to keep you satiated and comfortable.” Daminao starts scenting him again, in the place of language. “You should slow down if you want me totally conscious, cucciolo.”

“Oops,” he whispers, sounding small.

“Don’t worry, it's cute,” he affirms, affectionately. Thomas rubs his cheek on Damiano’s head adoringly, admiring how well it fits against his neck. It was so nice to have him tucked away and safe, to be receiving all of his focus. Thomas resumes cuddling and Dami continues munching, finally seeming at peace. A pleasant silence fell over them, and Thomas could never recall a time when he was both hormonal and comfortable with himself. It always felt like his skin was one size too tight, and he wanted to shed it and grow into himself, but there wasn’t anything to grow into. He would always be a hybrid.

“This is perfect,” he gushed. Damiano’s words interrupt Thomas’ spiraling. His instincts agreed with Dami’s sentiment, but his limbs were screaming in protest. His left leg had fallen asleep five minutes in and his right was bent at an awkward angle that had grown sore. Not that he would dream of moving with his mate so content. The fingertips of one hand stroked Damiano’s arm, raising goosebumps, the other on his stomach. His hair was soft against the scuff of Thomas’ cheek, and smelled delicious.

Damiano seemed to hum with satisfaction, letting himself be held so lovingly. It reverberated in Thomas’ chest, almost like Dami was vibrating against him at a very low frequency. The sound went from humming to this constant drone that came from the back of the throat. It was definitely positive, pleasurable, and also primal. The sound came in waves. It wasn’t until he let Damiano nuzzle against his neck, that Thomas realized what was happening.

“Are you purring for me, cara mio?” he marveled, trying to look at Damiano's face while he just nuzzled further in Thomas’ neck.

“No,” he playfully denied. The purring stopped when Dami vocalized, but then started back up again. He snuggled against Thomas, licking at his scent glands.

“Yes you are,” he cooed, voice dripping with affection. Damiano was trying to make his body as small as possible, using Thomas as a shield. “I can feel that you’re smiling, cucciolo, don’t lie to me.” Dami let out a giggle. Thomas massaged his scalp where it was pressed into his neck, leaving kisses.

“I don’t know what you expect, you’re scenting me,” Damiano admits shyly.

“I am?” Thomas exclaims. “They always said my glands were underdeveloped!” He couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice.

“It's not overwhelming, but it's still really nice,” Dami murmured, sleepily. Thomas’ cheeks ached from smiling. He’d never felt this normal.

“So omegas purr when they get scented,” he said to himself, but Dami shook his head.

“No, it's ‘cause you.” Immediately, Thomas wanted to flood him with questions.

“Can you explain –?”

“Mm, mm.” Damiano shook his head, and Thomas realized he was regressing back into omega headspace. As he lost his ability to communicate verbally, his scent evolved, glandular signals taking over. Unfortunately, Thomas struggled to read his pheromones. It would be easier if they were bonded, or if he was an alpha, or if this wasn’t his first time mating someone in heat. He was entirely underqualified and inexperienced. Suddenly, they were speaking two different languages, and Thomas desperately didn’t want to misinterpret.

The question of how to conduct himself in this moment made his heart race. If I don’t understand him, how can I go about this responsibly? Is not doing anything at all irresponsible in and of itself? Does having to ask these questions at all mean I’m failing him? As soon as Thomas had worked himself up, the sensation of a weight pulling him back down to earth settled in every muscle. His heart rate slowed, he remembered to breathe evenly. His body felt heavy, but suddenly calm, and he smelled the sweetness of springtime. For a moment, he was swooning so intensely that he lost sense of personhood, and could feel the body leaning against him more than his own.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, trying to get his bearings. Lilac. That's what permeated the air: when the lilacs first bloom in June. He could finally pinpoint the scent of Dami’s pheromones, which means this sudden calm came from his glands. If he wasn’t panicking over his biological shortcomings, what Damiano needed was very apparent. He wasn’t using speech so, Dami was more omega than human, and that omega side of him needed to be satiated to bring his biology back to an equilibrium.

Thomas slicked up, even though he wouldn’t be receiving. It was his body’s reaction to arousal and it triggered Damiano to have the same response. This unnatural reaction was the reason alphas and omegas preferred to hook up outside their primary gender. They were the exception, because usually the pheromones just weren’t compelling. Damiano and Thomas’ sexual relationship wasn’t regarded as a red flag necessarily, but definitely seen as odd. They tried to limit it to friendship as much as possible, to perpetuate the idea that they were just a couple of bored, horny omegas. Thomas didn’t have a consistent alpha, Damiano and Samuel were together out of hormonal compatibility, not in a relationship, so Samuel fucked around too. The narrative that they were just a couple of petty omegas worked well, as long as no one found out just how intensely pleasurable and natural their sex lives were.

“Can I touch you?” Thomas' hand ventured lower, playing with the waistband of Dami’s briefs. His scent became oh so inviting, so Thomas started to rub his hard cock over his boxers. He refused to take advantage of the fact that Damiano was non-verbal. He bucked his hips up into Thomas hand and whined in the back of his throat. Thomas dipped his hand into Dami’s boxers and held his cock in a fist, not moving. He waited for some kind of response communicating consent: a yes, a head nod, even a guiding hand. Instead, Damiano, who was feral, horny, and desperate, bit him in retribution for stopping.

“Ow! Hey, no teeth!” Instead of apologizing, Damiano pulled his briefs down, kicking them off with his feet. He grabbed Thomas’ hand, brought it back down to his cock, and held it there in a vice grip. Even as Thomas stroked him, Dami didn’t let his wrist go, thrusting up into his hand. He was holding on so tight that the area became sore, and being in rut was not contributing to Thomas' patience.

“Too tight,” he warned. When Dami didn’t respond, Thomas gave him one more chance. “Too tight Damiano, you’re hurting me.” Damiano ignores him, lips parting in pleasure. As beautiful as the sight may be, Thomas feels a scathing irritation at his omega acting like he gets to control the situation. He rips his hand away and Damiano’s eyes fly open, pelvis jerking as he searches for stimulation. He scrambles to sit up, confused as to why his alpha would suddenly deny him sexual pleasure without communicating. He snaps his jaws at Thomas, who just scowls at him, giving him the silent treatment.

His glandular secretions weren’t strong enough for Damiano to read anything beyond anger. He sat up and pressed his face to Thomas’ neck, teething at his scent glands to get a clearer message.

“Dam, I swear to god if you –” The musk on his taste buds suggested submission, but didn’t demand it. Testing the boundaries, he nipped at Thomas' neck, and was immediately wrenched away from his body.

“Don’t fucking bite me!” Thomas shoved Damiano away, angry that he wasn’t listening. Daminao looked frustrated and confused, which was such an unjustified reaction that words failed Thomas and he let out a growl of frustration. This seemed to have some meaning, and it felt so cathartic he did it again. He had to manually combine the urge to make guttural sounds from the back of his throat and the emotions he wanted to convey. For a real alpha this was all just instinct.

Damiano ducked his head in submission, mouth trembling because this was so unlike Thomas. He’d never gone from nothing to yelling at Dami. At first he was silent, then so enraged the growl ripped from his chest. All Damiano needed was a little direction and now he was getting punished for not being a mind reader.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.” Daminao watched Thomas’ face soften, and his lips move. Had he been trying to talk to Dami this whole time? “Can you hear me when I speak?” Thomas taps his ears, and Dami shakes his head. He tries his very best to assign meaning to the sounds leaving Thomas’ mouth, but the part of his brain that processes language has taken the back burner.

The guilt settled in the pit of Thomas’ stomach. It was a painful reminder of how limited his experience was. He considered that Damiano was intentionally hurting him before remembering that he could just be unable to interpret spoken words. A real alpha would have never made this mistake. Thomas let out an apologetic whine, and Damiano crawled back onto his lap, scenting him to show that all was forgiven. Thomas scented him back, because it was comforting, and affirming.

Damnaino focused all his attention on saying one word. He could visualize the way the letters looked, but his tongue wasn’t cooperating. Getting it to move and create the fine details necessary for speech was an uphill battle.

“Knot,” he slurred, pronouncing it with two syllables. Thomas nodded, trying to stand up and move to the bed. Damiano needed this to happen in his nest. With no other way to communicate, he bit the back of Thomas' thigh as he moved from a sitting to a kneeling position. Thomas whipped around and used a handful of Dami’s hair to wrench his back. Forcing him to look up as he towered over him, Thomas let a quiet, but vicious growl crawl from his throat, nose scrunched.

There was a beat of silence as Dami realized his mistake and whimpered apologetically, bowing his head in subservience.

Thomas took his time getting in a comfortable sitting position. The space was so tiny that if Damiano wanted them to mate in the corner of his closet, he could do all the work. He gestured to his briefs, as if to say “come do your job, then.” His scent drew Damiano in, welcoming like fresh cut cedar. He pulled the boxers down then crawled back up to be eye level with Thomas’ groin. Feeling the ego boost of rut, he spreads his legs and lets out a huff, waiting for his omega to find a good use for that busy mouth.

Dami’s instincts are happy for an opportunity to pleasure their alpha. Thomas’ slick has already soaked into the fabric of the nest, the scent marking it much to Dami’s approval. Somehow, it carried the smell of an alpha. Not as strong and salty as copious amounts of pre-cum, but extremely attractive. The musk of Thomas’ body made the slick drop down to Dami’s thighs as he took his cock in his mouth. Having an ass full and knotted brought satisfaction like nothing else in the world. However, the stretch of giving an alpha a blowjob was also pleasing to omega instincts.

Thomas doesn’t even try verbally directing his omega. Damiano was plenty proficient at responding to the signals of his body. When he’s had enough, he gently pulls Damiano’s mouth off his cock, and gives a rumbling hum of approval. Dami smiles coyly, pleased with himself while he shifts to straddle Thomas. They almost knotted this way last night, but Dami had changed position. Secretly, Thomas had grieved being able to watch the face of his omega so close. What they were doing felt sacred and he wasn’t taking it for granted.

Damiano was so focused with the task at hand, that he hadn’t even met Thomas’ eyes. His beautiful fingers wrapped around the base of Thomas’ cock, and stroked it a couple times to evenly disperse the pre-cum. Droplet glistened on the winding lines of ink marking his skin. Once he’d done the absolute bare minimum of prep, Dami sunk down onto his alpha’s length.

As soon the tip of his Thomas’ cock pushed into his anus, a rush of slick wetted Damiano’s thighs. His body’s response was so visceral that he trembled before he was even fully seated. His breath caught in his throat, the memory of yesterday’s desperation a bitter taste in his mouth. The idea of still enduring that today made his stomach turn. Thank god for Thomas, in many ways more than just this.

Damiano was shifting his legs to support himself properly as he rode Thomas cock, when a finger hooked under his chin prompting him to look up. There was a commanding stillness in his gaze, like the exhale of a steading breath. All of the beautiful green of his irises had been consumed by the black hunger of his pupil. Still, his eyes were kind and soulful, maybe just because all their years of friendship had impressed this onto Damiano.

Innumerable shitty interactions had left Dami, and all omegas, jaded towards alphas. The problem was Damiano was especially upetty, disruptive of social norms. Many joked that he was placed in the wrong body, but Damiano didn’t feel out of place in his own skin, just in his interactions with the opposite primary gender. There was a maliciousness that lay behind an alphas gaze, rooted in the knowledge of their ultimate power. Looking at Thomas felt like being held, instead of shoved to the ground and ordered to kneel. Damnao knelt before Thomas because he wanted to, when he wanted to.

Right now, the only thing Thomas asked of him was a kiss. He maintained eye contact in a way that communicated reverence, before leaning forward. It was merely a peck, such a stark contrast to where their bodies were joined, fluids causing their skin to stick together in uncomfortable ways. He pulled back, waiting until Dami’s eyes fluttered open to meet his own.Thomas cupped his face in both hands, pushing the hair back with his long fingers. He was so desperate to understand the moment, but all Dami could offer was radical acceptance, and that informed nothing.

Letting out a sharp breath, Thomas pulled Damiano back in, this time the kiss was deep and passionate. Maybe it was like a hurricane: the calm was in the center and he just had to brave the bit that threatened to sweep away his fragile sense of self. Damiano had no such reservations. He kissed Thomas with tongue, raising himself up so he could push open his mouth, testing the boundaries of his dominance. Daminao’s tongue explored the fragile tissue of Thomas gums as he bounced on his cock. He got a hand tangled in his soft, dirty blond hair, pulling a bit too hard on the nape of the neck which earned him a slight growl of warning. He kissed Thomas fiercely, lips molding together while he managed a sporadic pace. Desperate panting turned into moans as the exploration of tongue gave way to gentle nips.

Damiano had learned his lesson, and was very careful not to break the skin. Thomas was probably too trusting, but having his lips nibbled on by the man sitting on his cock was heavenly. Soon Dami’s nails were digging into his back, and his energy demanded a knot. Thomas got a good grip around his torso and met his thrusts. Finally engaging his hips started the process of perpetual motion resulting in a knot. It came quicker each time, and soon Damiano’s moans revolved into a whine, interspersed by grunts as he rode the knot.

Everything became hopelessly tense again, but Thomas was getting used to it, and could almost breathe this time. He felt another rush of slick soak the comforter below at the same time Dami’s stained his thighs. There were moments before orgasam so intensely pleasurable that it was totally unbearable, and yet they had to bear it, and held onto each other desperately, in an effort to survive.

“Relax, relax,” Thomas grunted, lifting his hips to collide with Dami’s.

“I can’t, I just can’t,” he whined. “You gave me a knot, I – uh, please,” he moaned. His nails dug into Thomas’ shoulders hard enough to leave crescent shaped bruises.

“Just try,” Thomas said through clenched teeth, the vein protruding on his forehead.

“No, no, no, no,” he repeats, shaking his head hysterically. Damiano sinks down slowly and an obscene noise rips from the back of his throat that isn’t even vaguely human, more like an injured hyena.

“Don’t make me give up the knot. Please, it's so good. It feels so good.” He babbles against Thomas lips, into what used to be a kiss. Damiano is using up too much air for that now, gasping as he tries to reach orgasam. His growl intends to sound assertive, but comes off as helpless. Thomas shushes him, trying to calm Damiano off of the edge of hysteria with a steady hand rubbing his back, but realizes this isn’t what he needs.

This is a really shitty position to get momentum from, so Thomas braces one forearm against the wall of the closet, and gets a tight grip on Damiano’s glute with the other. He pushes himself up into a kneeling position as Dami clings.

“I won’t. I won’t do it. You can’t make me!”

“Ssh, cucciolo, I’m not going anywhere. Just relax please.” They’ll definitely have to work on communication later. “Get your feet under you,” Thomas coaxes. Doing the horizontally would be so much easier, but there isn’t room and if he tries to transfer them to the bed Damiano will loose his fucking mind. Repositioning at least gives him something to focus on, and can deliver the stimulation he so desperately needs.

Thomas gets a vice grip on his hips and Damiano braces one hand behind himself on Thomas thigh and the other around his waist, frantic fingers digging into muscle. The first thrust makes his eyes roll back. It's a new angle, a deeper angle. Thomas tries to stay grounded, but it's such a small space with so much sensory input and he’s never felt Damiano so completely. The smell of slick, pheromones, pre-cum, and mating. Damiano, glorious as he rides Thomas’ cock, his olive skin seems to glow like an ethereal creature. Every undulation displays his features, every time more beautiful than the moment before. He grunts, putting so much hard work in, and Thomas cums immediately.

He actually closes his eyes. It's too much stimulation otherwise. He has to adjust his grip, the sweat making it difficult to hold onto Damiano, who put total trust in Thomas to support his weight. With his eyes closed, the noises from his omega become all the more impactful. Thomas tries to suppress his own moans so he can hear them. Damiano is enjoying the hot spunk filling him up more than Thomas is ejaculating it. He’s practically singing with pleasure. It's so primal and satiating that he doesn’t even notice when his own orgasam begins. All the overwhelming stimulation just blends together.

Damiano’s cum splatters onto his and Thomas’ chests, while he manically bounces on his cock, no rhythm, all desperation. Each time he bottoms out, Dami lets out a little grunt and Thomas opens his eyes just to watch his omega’s parted lips. He spasms with climax internally, and his alphas head falls back, hitting the wall. Thomas has to put every ounce of focus he can barely muster to support Dami’s upper body. The internal and external orgsams are not simultaneous, but it's close enough that Dami is fighting for consciousness.

Thomas gives him another knot before he has the chance to ask. It's intuitive. He slows the pace down to his own liking. Each thrust starts with his sit bones on his heels, bearing his weight for a moment of rest. Thomas pushes off with as much force as possible, snapping his hips into a plank position. Before Damiano can panic that Thomas has pulled out to the knot, his cock is buried as deep as possible. The slide against his walls is the best part. Thomas gets to feel his velvety muscular walls constrict in pleasure, Damiano gets every inch of pulsating cock, weeping with precum. Thomas' ankles are dripping with his own slick, but contradictory biology isn’t even on his mind. Damiano is.

Thomas mates him with everything he has. Dami tries to thank him, but it comes out as gibberish and devolves into a moan. Even as he struggles for breath, Thomas' chest feels more open, his body more invigorated. He wants to give into instincts, but his omegas comfort is more important. His head has lulled to the side, mouth open. He’s looking at Thomas’ body jolting with each thrust, like watching his alpha fucking him gets him off.

“You want –” Thomas isn’t even sure what to ask. “You okay?” It's such an ill fitting question.

“Heaven,” Dami whispers, corners of his mouth turning up into a smile. A rush of slick hits Thomas’ mid thigh, and Damiano’s hand that rests there slips. He transfers his grip to his lower back, but there's so much sweat they’re both fighting to hand on. Thomas sets into a rhythm only sustainable because he's in rut, a little faster than before, the way Dami likes. He doesn’t have to think about the mating, that part comes so naturally it's not even conscious. The more animalistic he feels, the more things fall into place. A knot, excruciating to produce yesterday, thickens without any effort pulling it forth.

Thomas is hyper aware of the muscles he's using: lower back, glutes, abs. Instead of lactic acid production his body skips to endorphins. The only issue is that things keep slipping. Dami is struggling to hold on and Thomas has to keep readjusting his grip. Damiano has another anal orgasam without warning. He whines all the way through it with his eyes rolling back in his head. There's no message intended, just an expression of pure pleasure. His body starts to tremble and there's so much sweat Thomas’ hand slips and he nearly drops him.

“That's it,” Thomas growls. He pushes the closet door wide open and lays Dami out on the floor halfway in his nest and halfway on top of the breakfast dishes. Thomas pushes them out of the way haphazardly. Something clashes then breaks. Neither of them wince.

For a moment things don’t fit together right. The ground is uneven, there's nothing to prop up Damiano’s hips with. Thomas slips drastically enough that he accidentally pulls out, subsequently losing the knot now that he’s no longer mating an omega. It's like watching Dami’s face in slow motion. One moment he’s focused on adjusting to the new position and the next his face is crumpling in panic, betrayal, loss.

“No, no! Come back, Tommy, please –” he wails. Thomas rectifies the mistake in only a couple seconds, but the knot being ripped away has triggered a fear response. Dami is panicking, even with Thomas’ cock fully seated inside him. He’s trying to force another knot to pacify him. Feeling Damiano’s chest shudder underneath him with a sob makes his own eyes sting, pain shared just as their pleasure is.

“Cucciolo, I’m so sorry,” he croons. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay.” Damiano’s breath catches in his chest violently with each syllable. A shaking hand comes up to wipe his eyes. He brings his legs to his tummy out of habit, and Thomas carefully hooks Dami’s shins over his shoulders. He feels past the point of exhaustion, but also aware he has an indeterminate amount of energy left. His rut had never been this intense before, so Thomas was finding the boundaries as he experienced them.

“I don’t know, ugh,” Thomas growls, struggling with words. “How much I – I have,” he pants. “I can’t…can’t –”

“Everything,” Damiano answers. Give me everything. Okay. Everything turned out to be a knot that took all his focus and a handful of thrusts. Thomas collapsed, pushing Dami’s legs off his shoulders, so they could achieve some level of comfort. The sensation of Thomas' skin shifting against Damiano’s cock was enough to make him cum. There was very little actual spunk, but his entire abdomen spasmed during orgasam.

Thomas outright yelped in pain. He couldn’t cum again, after this level of athleticism there was no way. Yet, the perfectly lubed walls of Damiano’s ass constricted aggressively around his cock, and pulled an orgasam from him like his dying breath. Not only was it way too tight, but Thomas’ cock had been overstimulated 20 minutes ago. Exquisite torture. Instincts kept him in place, and Thomas couldn’t decide if this was the best or worst kind of excruciation.

“God, please relax, please,” he whimpered into Dami’s ear, a couple tears falling. One of Thomas’ hands found a grip on a bed post, trying to channel all the sensation into something, anything. He let out a growl of frustration. This wasn’t sustainable. How could the world expect him to willingly put himself in this situation over and over? It was as if he was having the life force squeezed out of him like a toothpaste tube. Slamming his palm to the ground, Thomas roared in anger. He felt Damiano twitch below him.

His omega was cowering, head tucked against a raised shoulder with his eyes screwed shut. His limbs were still curled around Thomas, but he seemed to be bracing. For what? Where had Damiano learned this behavior?

“Hey, cara mio, I would never hurt you.” Thomas lifts a hand to brush the hair out of Dami’s face, and he winces right before his hand makes contact. “Damiano, baby.” He seems to settle once he realizes the touch is loving, but that doesn’t stop Thomas’s stomach from sinking or the red hot rage that rips up to his throat.

“I’m going to hurt whomever made you scared,” he found himself pledging. “I’m going to make them scared too.” Sober, Thomas would never take on an alpha, but it didn’t matter if this promise was empty. Damiano was too far gone to register words. Which left Thomas to communicate in a language he only spoke accidentally, and never to good effect. Instead, Thomas scented. It seemed the only way to consistently communicate positive intentions.

This function had been much easier to pick up, he just had to focus on Damiano. After a couple gently nudges from his alpha, Dami relaxed and let himself enjoy Thomas’ pheromones. He looked blissed out, mouth hanging open. After getting his bearings, Damiano started scenting Thomas back, and finally relaxed. They both took a deep breath, which left Thomas in a wonderful haze, where all things unpleasant were dulled. It was the sensation of being high, but instead of separating each other as their senses diverged from reality, Thomas and Dami were brought together. Their partner was the only thing stimuli fully realized. At first Thomas struggled for clarity, but his omega ran a hand along his back, soothing. Somehow he knew to give into it.

“I didn’t expect you to do that,” the omega mused. Thomas had lost track of how much time had passed.

“What?” He propped himself up, instead of lazing on Damiano’s chest.

“Bonding. I’m glad though, I feel content now.”

“Right.” Having none of these experiences for himself made it difficult for Thomas to keep them straight in his head. “That's another thing I’ve never done, scented someone back. Makes it hard to bond, y’know.” Actually without mutual scenting and a knot it was impossible to bond, but Thomas used casual language to convince himself this wasn’t important. It was though, everyone else got so much more out of life.

“Yes you have.”

“What?” Thomas asks, bewildered.

“You have scented and bonded someone. Me, just now.”

“Oh, right,” Thomas smiles to himself, then so much that his sexy, little feral teeth are exposed and Daminao starts running his tongue across every one until Thomas closes his mouth and shakes his head.

“Eh! What are you doing?” he makes a noise of disdain, only for Damiano to dissolve into giggles, thoroughly amused with himself.

“So how does it feel to have your cherry popped?”

“Much more fun than the first time, but, em -” Despite Thomas’ best efforts, his expression must change, because Damiano’s face falls. “I didn’t realize the extent of the nonverbal bit, we need to create a system of consent for that. I felt like I kept unintentionally yelling at you in a language I didn’t speak.” Damiano chuckles, but there's no humor in Thomas’ face.

“I never want to yell at you, but especially when we’re mating, cucciolo.” There's so much tenderness in his tone. “Everytime I miscommunicated I felt like I was failing you because I’m not a real alpha. Like the thought that you were just being totally vulnerable with me and I yelled at you…” He trails off and swallows hard, tracing a finger down Dami’s profile who is looking up at him with untainted affection. “You’re not mad.”

“Not even a little bit,” he supplies. “It’s not like alphas are mind readers, that comes with time.” Thomas huffs and grimaces in thought.

“That doesn't matter. I’ll never be an alpha, and this will never work the same.” He sounded dejected, but instead of making Damiano sad, it made him angry. How could Thomas give up so easily?

“We don’t know that until we try,” he defended, attempting to rid his tone of any acidity. Thomas looked like the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. Panic rose in Dami’s chest at the prospect of his mate not being there his next heat. He wanted to demand that Thomas pledge he would knot no one else, ever. On the other hand, Thomas saw himself only as Dami’s last option, not his first choice.

“You’d want to do this again?” he asked, bewildered.

“Yes!” Damiano gushed. “You tried to understand me more than some alphas who’ve been practicing canine dialect since their very first pubic hair.” This would be the time to bring it up. Thomas raised himself up to his elbows, dirty blond hair falling in a curtain around his face. Damiano’s legs squeezed around Thomas' hips, heels digging into his lower back to keep him close.

“Yeah um, I could tell from your reaction,” Thomas is looking at Damiano emphatically, who raises a questioning eyebrow in response. “I mean, just the way you reacted, it seemed…” As much as he tried to read his face, Dami’s expression only communicated confusion.

“It's par for the course,” he brushes off, lightly. Maybe the reaction was subconscious, like so many other things in this state. Thomas didn’t even know what he’d said. Flinching could be an instinctual reaction, like slick or moaning, something not notable enough to recall.

“You can’t just bite me when I do something you don’t like,” he redirects.

“Right, sorry,” Dami winces. “I just get a really strong urge with you, for some reason.” Damiano knew the reason. It was the same reason that there were moments when part of him regretted taking birth control while knotted by Thomas. Damiano didn’t want children, not with Thomas as anyone. It was the same reason he’d washed every scent bearing surface in the apartment of his previous mate. It was the reason he’d called Thomas instead of a different alpha.

He’d been far from celibate before Samuel. There were plenty of options. It was the reason he’d skip his mothers birthday before Thomas’ rut. The reason they had such a close friendship, why every time Thomas asked he would say yes, why he would never spill the hybrid secret even with a knife to his throat.

It was the same reason, that fateful night at 18, just before the tears fell, he wanted to say thank god. Thank god because I’ve been wracking my brain for ways our bodies could fit together. In fact, when you first walked in that door I wanted to propose something so desperately and barely held my tongue. What if I take off all my clothes, and you take off all your clothes and we lay in my bed, then find something that feels right and do it until we’re exhausted. I don’t even care how sex looks between us, as long as it exists.

So when that answer came, when your body said this is how it looks, I cried tears of joy, silently, so you couldn’t see. But if you hadn’t cried I wouldn’t have either. If you said I want to try something, now that I know, I would lay on my stomach, hands clasped like I was praying, slick running down my thighs. For a moment, I was blinded by my own narcissism, and didn't consider isolating how this’d be for you. I thought that here you were, the only omega made for another of their kind, so my instincts weren’t broken. Maybe I was made for you after all.

Notes: Not a new fic! This chapter is about a year old it just seems ridiculous to have “AO3 exclusives.” If this isn’t your thing (immensely understandable) you can opt out of both omegaverse and band member x band member on my taglist.

-Eden XOXO

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