#I've cleaned this up but need to post again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

celestiababie · 2 years ago

Text

Stay At Home Husband! Mingyu Part 3...

Pairings: Stay at home husband! Mingyu x fem! reader

Genre: Smut with plot, fluff, hint of angst (nothing too bad I promise)

Warnings: Cursing, talks of traditional gender roles :/, getting cockblocked multiple times (once by your daughter), fingering (m), pegging, cum eating, use of the word slut once, reader can't cook in this. Let me know if I need to add anything else

Word Count: 7.255k (this is the longest thing I've posted oof—)

Summary: You try and find ways to give back to your loving husband...with a few trial and error.

A/N: Here's part 3 of this wonderful saga. I had so much fun writing this and I'm actually proud of it which is a weird feeling. I hope it doesn't disappoint those who wanted a third part! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Credit to the anon who gave me an idea for part of this fic!

Series Masterlist

Y/DN = Your daughter's name...I didn't want to just make up a name everyone hated pfft

Ever since your previous rendezvous a few days ago with your husband, he noticed something different about you—or rather: how you were treating him.

You've always been a fantastic wife. He couldn't ask for a better woman to marry, but there were very distinct roles in the relationship that kept him comfortable and at peace. He found purpose in cooking breakfast every morning for you and your beautiful daughter, which is why it surprised him to wake up one morning with a noticeable absence on your side of the bed. The smell of pancakes and bacon confused his brain, making him question if he was dreaming.

But all his dreams included you, so that couldn't have been it.

He made his way to the kitchen, still groggy from waking up. He rubbed his eyes as his eyes suddenly came into focus on your figure, scrambling around the kitchen with a look of frustration on your face.

This wasn't right—cooking breakfast was his job.

Your head raises upon hearing the clearing of his throat, too focused on your terribly made pancakes to notice your half-naked husband standing by the archway. You bite your lip in embarrassment as your husband comes around the kitchen island to examine your creation.

"What are you doing?"

His question causes a pout on your face, his eyes flickering down to your lips, holding back from kissing you since he hadn't brushed his teeth yet.

"Well, since it's my day off...I thought I could make breakfast for you and Y/DN, but they stuck to the pan, and I tried to scrape it off...but! At least we have scrambled pancakes now!" You hope your smile distracts him from the abomination you plated, but to your disappointment, it hadn't.

A noticeable frown forms on Mingyu's face, his eyes drifting off with an unreadable expression.

Oh God, he's gonna divorce me over pancakes.

You curse at yourself as you let your head fall into your hands.

"I'm a terrible wife— I can't even cook one good thing for my husband." You huff into your hands, and another wave of embarrassment runs through your body.

Mingyu's attention quickly turns to you again, letting your words sink in. That wasn't remotely why he felt a little bit upset.

Mingyu loved cooking for you and Y/DN. He was perfectly content with the dynamic you two had. You went to work while he stayed home, taking care of the house and Y/DN. That's how it's always been. But ever since that night in the living room, Mingyu noticed you doing more things around the house. Things that were his job. He couldn't help but feel a little sad and empty, feeling like he was no longer pulling his weight in the relationship.

"You don't need to cook, Y/N. I cook for you, I've always cooked for you, and I love cooking for you," he firmly states with a soft voice, his hands moving to rub up and down your shoulders.

"I know, but I just want to do something nice for once. You always do so much for me, and I never get to do something back."

Your head rose from your hands. A pout still lingers on your lips.

"Is that why you've been doing the dishes lately? And taking out the trash? And cleaning? And doing the laundry?" He asked with a loving gaze, his hands reaching up to cup your face in his warm palms.

You slowly nod as you avoid his eyes, his stare making you feel shy even after years of marriage.

Mingyu briefly smiles at you before dipping his head to press his lips against your forehead. Mingyu lifts you onto the counter, standing between your legs, and he interlocks your hands with his.

" Although I appreciate you wanting to do things for me. I really appreciate the thought. You don't have to take care of the house to take care of me and show me how much you appreciate everything I do. Maybe for other people, those things would feel like tedious chores, but for me, it's nice? I like taking care of the house. And I like making sure you and Y/DN are comfortable. Please don't take that away from me, okay?"

"I'm sorry...I just wanted to be a good wife," you whisper. Before your head can fall to look at your lap, one of Mingyu's hands tilt your chin upwards, forcing you to look at him in his soft coffee-colored eyes.

"You don't have to do all those things to be a good wife or mom. You do plenty to provide for Y/DN and I. Do you think I'm a bad husband for staying home?"

Your eyes widen from his question, emotions flaring up despite knowing he didn't actually think you thought he was a shitty husband.

"Of course not! You're the best husband in the world." You softly hit his chest, feigning offense that he would even ask such a thing.

A proud smile creeps on Mingyu's face, his teeth pressing down in his bottom teeth in an attempt to hide his inflated ego.

"Good. Now let me remake breakfast before our little angel wakes up. And if you really wanna give back so bad, I'm sure we can find other ways that don't include you stealing my precious job," he chuckles out as he turns away from you, setting your abomination aside as he begins to make breakfast as usual.

You playfully glare at the back of his head before a smirk replaces your previous pout. As your eyes scan Mingyu's half-naked figure, they soon place their attention on Mingyu's ass in his boxers, reminding you of your husband's question from a few nights ago.

Admittedly, you had no clue what pegging was when he asked, causing your husband to say a simple 'oh—never mind then.' before dozing off to sleep. But you didn't forget and did some research to know exactly what your husband was into.

And, fuck—was the idea hot.

You slide off the counter and wrap your arms around Mingyu's waist as he cooks, your head resting against his toned back. You slide your hands down his waist, causing Mingyu to tense against you as he feels your hands suddenly cop a feel of his ass.

"Something like fucking you after all these years of fucking me so well? Would that be a good way of giving back, baby?"

Mingyu's breath hitches, a blush forming on his cheeks as he listens to you. He turns his head ever so slightly, giving you a surprised look.

"You said you didn't know what it was—"

Biting your lip, you squeeze his ass before pulling away completely, making your way out of the kitchen, but not before saying, "I didn't, but I do now. Finish up breakfast. I'll wake up Y/D."

You flash him a wink as you sway your hips more than usual, leaving him as flustered as he usually made you.

The next couple of your days were spent with your eyes practically glued to your phone, researching all the best ways to peg your husband. You were woman enough to admit that you lacked expertise in this field, and the last thing you wanted was for Mingyu to have a bad experience because you didn't know what the fuck you were doing.

After spending a generous amount of time searching the Internet for information and ordering a few toys, you felt confident enough to finally put your newfound knowledge into full use, ready to give your husband the most mind-blowing orgasm he's ever had.

Operation: peg your husband was in full effect and running smoothly...

Mingyu's face lit up with pure excitement when you whispered into his ear at dinner all of the dirty things you wanted to do to him while your daughter struggled to use her spoon.

You ignore Mingyu's stare at the side of your face as you reach over to help your daughter eat her food, her adorable smile of gratitude taking your mind off of Mingyu, who was still staring at you with an expression that could only be described as pure desire.

Once your daughter finally got the hang of using her spoon, you lean back into your seat, turning to look at your husband, who hasn't touched his plate since.

"What's wrong? Does Daddy need Mommy's help too?" You smirk as your husband's eyes darken, his pupils blown out as he clenches his fist underneath the table.

The sound of Y/DN's laughter brings the both of you back to reality, reminding you that you shouldn't, in fact, be undressing each other with your eyes right in front of your unknowing daughter.

"Daddy, look! I can eat better than you," your daughter giggles out, reminiscent of Mingyu's laugh, as she raises a spoonful of food to her mouth to prove her point.

Operation: peg your husband was still running according to plan.

After Mingyu cleaned up all the dishes, you read your daughter to sleep alone this time, your husband too busy taking a longer-than-usual shower to get himself all prepped for you. You silently praise your daughter for being a fast sleeper, just like her father.

With your daughter peacefully tucked into bed, the stuffed bear in her arm keeping her company, and the night light shining bright to keep monsters away, you quietly sneak out of her room to make your way toward the master bedroom.

The sound of the shower running is the first thing you're greeted with as you open the door. Wanting to give Mingyu an additional surprise, you quickly change into his favorite pair of red lingerie that fit your body like a glove, hugging all the parts that made Mingyu drool.

You saunter towards one of the bedside tables, grabbing everything you planned on using for the night.

Upon hearing the shower suddenly stop, you scrambled onto the bed, adjusting your bra one last time as you waited for Mingyu to exit the bathroom.

He nearly jumps out of his skin as he spots your body on the bed, clutching his poor heart.

"Fuck sake— I didn't even hear you come in..." He decreases in volume with each word that leaves his lips, his brain trying to take in how fucking sexy you looked.

Red always was his favorite color.

You bite your lip as your eyes trail down his bare chest, all the way down to his v-line, the towel loosely wrapped around his hips leaving very little to the imagination. You'd always love your husband no matter what he looked like. But, you did appreciate how easy on the eyes he was. Long gone was the rowdy yet kind, naive boy you met in your second year of college. Mingyu was now a well-rounded adult who seemed to grow into his looks year after year, aging like the most decadent fine wine.

With a single finger, you beckon Mingyu to you, his towel dropping as he moves to climb on top of you. His lips instantly found yours, pressing them against yours in sync that was perfected over the years. A soft moan gets muffled as Mingyu's hardening cock presses against your stomach. As his lips left open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down your neck, and over your collarbones, his hips grind his thick cock against you.

His desire for you was evident, but you couldn't allow yourself to get distracted away from what you wanted to do for Mingyu. As much as you loved how his hips and mouth movement felt so natural, it was time to try something new.

" Baby, this isn't a part of my plan. I'm the one on top tonight," you coo out, hands pushing your husband off of you and onto his back with little resistance. Mingyu was a big guy, much stronger than you, which is why the lack of pushback confused you. But with a single look at the desperate look on Mingyu's face, his lustful eyes staring deep into yours, you could tell Mingyu was too horny to have any control over his own body.

"You still want this, pretty boy?" You drag your nails down Mingyu's chest, causing his whole body to shudder at the feeling. He licked over his lip, nodding his head a few times without a hint of hesitation. He wanted it so bad. He's secretly fantasized about playing with his ass but was always too focused on your needs to bring it up and too nervous to try it on himself. But tonight, Mingyu had complete trust in you.

"Please, fuck me," he lets out with a heavy breath, his hips squirming against the bed as his anticipation starts to get the best of him.

A single chuckle from your lips causes his cock to twitch, something about the sound turning on even more. You found it somewhat amusing that Mingyu, your strong 6' foot 2" husband, was begging you to fuck his tight little ass.

"Come on, baby, you know I can't fuck you just yet...I gotta make sure you're all stretched out for me so you can take it like a good boy," you tease as your hand trails lower and lower, nails grazing down his shaft before rubbing underneath his balls. Instantly, your actions elicit a positive response, Mingyu's hips bucking against you as his head sinks into the pillows beneath him.

"Such a pretty boy— Spread your legs for me?" Your soft tone eases any nerves that start to build in the pit of Mingyu's stomach, his legs spreading slightly. You shake your head and guide him to spread his legs a bit more, pushing them until his feet are planted firmly on the bed.

"Just relax for me, Mingyu. I promise I'll take good care of you," you whisper as you lean forward to kiss up his stomach and chest, the man underneath you sighing in pleasure.

Reaching to the side, you grab the bottle of lube you grabbed earlier from the bedside table. You lean back as you playfully wave the bottle in front of Mingyu, a soft chuckle rumbling out of him.

"Let's go over a few things, okay?"

Mingyu nods, mumbling an 'okay' as he waits for you to continue.

"Tell me if you ever need to stop or take a break for whatever reason, tell me immediately. I want you to have a good time, and if you're not, I don't want you to force yourself to continue. I need you to tell me how you feel when I ask. And if you need me to change how I'm doing it, I'll go as slow, fast, hard, and deep as you want me to, but I can't read your mind, so you need to speak up. Got it?"

Mingyu canines sink into his plush bottom lip, biting back a smile from the authority in your voice.

"Understood, baby. And if you're uncomfortable with anything, you better tell me too. I know you're doing this for me, but I don't want you to feel weirded out by anything. We'll stop if either one of us isn't feeling it."

Mingyu briefly sits up to press a long kiss to your lips, not just out of lust but out of love. He lays back down, nuzzling his head deeper into the pillows as he watches you closely for your following movements.

With a deep breath, you pop off the cap of the bottle of lube, squeezing out a more than generous amount onto your finger. It was better to be safe than sorry. You rub the glob of lube between your thumb and two fingers, warming it up so it wouldn't startle Mingyu as your press your fingers against his tight hole, rubbing over it in slow circles.

Your eyes flicker to your husband's face, catching the way his eyes flutter close, his entire body sinking further into the bed. He had no idea how good he looked right now.

Your other hand rubs over one of his toned thighs before a question leaves your lips.

"Feels good?"

You knew it did, you could tell by the look on his face and the way his cock seemed to twitch with every rub of your fingers, but you wanted to hear the words come out of his mouth.

"Mhm— so good, baby. Can't wait for you to fuck me," he sighed, his hips starting to move against his finger, showing you how badly he wanted it.

"Yeah? You think you're ready for a finger?"

You let out a laugh as your husband nods his head against the pillows, the furrow of his brows showing that he was starting to get impatient.

You allow your eyes to focus on where your fingers meet his ass, your mind running through all the information you read online before mustering up the courage to press a single finger against the puckered hole, the lube aiding you as you the tip of your finger sinks into him slowly. Mingyu shifts a bit at the new and slightly uncomfortable feeling of your finger inserting into him. It didn't feel terrible, and he didn't want to stop yet, but it was definitely weird.

The face of discomfort on Mingyu causes you to stop your finger from going any deeper, a look of concern now written on your face.

"Need me to stop?"

Mingyu quickly shakes his head, smiling at how attentive you're being.

"No, I'm good. I promise. It's just weird. I'm fine. You can continue, baby."

You allow yourself to trust his words, your finger sliding into him almost all the way before halting again. Mingyu lets out a deep exhale as he tries to adjust to the feeling. After the initial wave of discomfort, Mingyu had to be honest with himself...it didn't really feel like much. He could tell your finger was inside of him, but there was no pleasure.

"Still good, Mingyu?"

Okay, you've got this. Just 2 inches deep, down to the first knuckle. Now all you gotta do is curl your finger up a bit.

"Yeah, I'm good. It does really feel like anything, to be honest with— holy shit, fuck, oh my god."

Mingyu's words abruptly cut off with a string of profanities, his back arching off the bed as you curl your finger just as you read online, nudging against his prostate. It was unlike anything he's ever felt before, his body losing control over itself as a sudden shock of pleasure moved throughout his entire body.

"Shit—are you okay? Should I stop?" You ask in a panic, not realizing your husband's strong reaction wasn't out of pain; it was out of pure pleasure.

Mingyu lets out a whimper as his eyes open to look at you, shaking his head as his hands move to grip the bed sheets.

"No, don't stop. Fuck—it felt so good, baby. Please, please, please do it again. Keep going, please," he begs, desperate for more.

You feel a heat run through your body when you realize how much Mingyu had enjoyed what you did, arousal soaking into your panties. You rub over his stomach as you curl your finger upwards again, causing another strong reaction from Mingyu.

Biting your lip, you began to move your finger in a come hither motion. Mingyu's mouth drops as whines and whimpers leave his lips before he can stop them. His eyes roll to the back of his head as his knuckles turn white from how hard he gripped the sheets. Precum leaks out of his cock, enough for Mingyu to nearly convince himself that he was cumming already.

"Look at you, baby, taking my finger so fucking well. You're so tight, Mingyu. How am I ever gonna fit another finger, let alone a cock, inside you?" You tease, watching your husband fall apart underneath you all from a single finger inside of him.

Mingyu pants, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tries to register what you're saying, too fucked out already to focus on anything other than what he felt.

" Finger—a-another one, p-please," Mingyu practically sobs out. It was safe to say this was the best thing Mingyu had ever experienced. Mingyu absolutely loved fucking you and the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock, but this was different. A different kind of pleasure. Something so intense it was almost unbearable.

You dip a second finger into Mingyu's hole as he wishes, stretching him out further than before. You continue your curling motions, the feeling somehow more intense than before. Mingyu's moans grew in volume, a familiar but different feeling forming in his stomach, getting stronger with each push of your fingers.

Mingyu felt lightheaded in the best way possible, his brain turning into mush as he allowed himself to fully immerse himself in the incredible feeling.

"M' gonna c-cum—fuck, s' close," he slurs, his eyes rolling again as he feels his biggest orgasm yet getting ready to burst out of him.

" Yeah, baby? I haven't even touched your cock yet." You were amazed at how much pleasure Mingyu was getting out of this and a bit proud of yourself for being the one giving it to him.

All he needed was a few more good pumps of your fingers.

A little bit more.

Just a bit more.

Knock knock knock—

"Mommy? Daddy?"

The sudden sound of a soft knocking and your daughter's soft voice behind the door takes you out of the moment. You curse under your breath as you pull your fingers out of Mingyu, a whimper leaving his lips from the sudden emptiness, the feeling of release getting ripped away from him. You felt bad, you really did, but you couldn't exactly ignore your daughter, who sounded upset from behind the door.

"I'm so sorry, Mingyu. Let me just check what she needs—"

"I-It's okay, just check on her," he pants out, slowly coming down from the feeling of his almost orgasm. Yes, he was frustrated from the sudden stop, but the guilt of feeling frustrated towards his daughter was instant karma, the feeling turning him off completely.

You quickly wash your hands in the bathroom, grabbing a robe to cover your lingerie-clad body. Mingyu covers his body with a blanket as you open the door, bending down to hug your sniffling daughter.

"What's wrong, princess?"

"H-had a n-nightmare," she hiccups, hugging your body as tight as her little arms would allow her. You turn your head to flash an apologetic smile at your husband as your daughter cries in your arms.

Operation: Peg your husband did not go as smoothly as you had hoped.

It was beginning to seem as if the world, some unknown force, had a vendetta against you fucking your husband in the ass. Nothing seemed to be going your way.

For starters, your work was very demanding, with additional hours to your schedule, which left you mentally and physically exhausted by the time you got home. The pay was generous, but it wasn't worth the time it stripped away from you. The time you could be spending with Y/DN and Mingyu. The time you could be spending fucking the brains out of Mingyu.

Then, you got sick. Maybe it was the exhaustion your body was being put through. Or maybe, it was just because cold and flu season was rolling around. Either way, you got fucking sick, which meant staying in bed all day, using up your precious sick days.

Then, just as you recovered, for the most part, Y/DN got sick as well, leaving you and Mingyu to take care of your little princess until she felt all better.

It was safe to say that Operation: peg your husband was put on the back burner.

Mingyu hadn't complained once. Not when he worked extra hard to prep your meals for your long days at work. Not when he'd run you a bath and give you a nice shoulder rub before you passed out. Not when he took care of you when you were sick. Not when he took care of your daughter.

It frustrated you that you couldn't take care of your husband. Either he ignored his wants, or there simply was no time to tend to them. But, you weren't gonna let this stop you. If anything, the past few weeks were only fueling your determination, ready to pounce on your husband at any given moment.

However, you were more sophisticated than that (not really) and devised a new plan to get into Mingyu's pants.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you feel Mingyu's loving hands rub your sore shoulders as he sits behind the bubble bath he prepared for you. Although Mingyu hated seeing how exhausted you've been, getting extra worried, especially after you were sick, he did enjoy the night routine you two had nowadays. You didn't eat dinner with Y/DN and him, but he did spend time with you, helping you unwind.

You raise a hand out of the bath to cover one of Mingyu's before interlocking your fingers, bringing his hand up to your mouth to press a few kisses to his skin.

"That tickles, Y/N," he giggles, trying to pull his hand out of your grasp, but you didn't let your husband escape. Not when you had to let him know what you planned out.

"I have the weekend off...so we get to spend time together tomorrow."

Mingyu smirks at the suggestive tone in your voice, leaning forward to rest his chin on the bathtub.

"Yeah? And Sunday?"

"Mhm, and Sunday. And I know how much your parents have been dying to see Y/DN recently, so I may have told them that she could stay at their place for the weekend. They seemed happy about it."

Mingyu's smirk only grew wider as you spoke. He lifts his head and slowly drags his hands along your shoulders and down to your breasts, submerged in the water.

"We get the whole place to ourselves?" You can hear the excitement dripping from his voice, biting your lips as he squeezes your tits.

"That's right, baby. We have unfinished business to tend to. I still haven't fucked your pretty ass yet. They'll be here to pick her up around 1 pm"

Mingyu lets out a sigh as his mind drifts off to the night you fingered him. Although he didn't cum, the feeling of your fingers was incredible, and it only made Mingyu want more.

It was safe to say that your little operation was back. This time, you were gonna make sure your husband came.

You smile brightly as your daughter waves goodbye to you and Mingyu.

"We love you! Be good to Grandma and Grandpa, okay?" Your husband calls out to her as she gets further away, her hand tightly grasping your mother-in-law's hand.

Y/DN turns her head to nod at Mingyu, letting go of her grandmother's hand to hold her arms over her head in a heart shape before she's placed in the car and off for the rest of the weekend.

Once the car is out of sight, you turn your heels to face Mingyu with a devious smirk.

"Bedroom?"

"Bedroom."

Mingyu scoops you up in his arms as he eagerly brings you into the house, kicking the front door behind him closed. He carries you up the stairs, nearly tripping as you kiss along the side of his neck, your hands roaming across his torso and tugging at the shirt he wore. Luckily, the two of you make it to the bedroom in one piece, your husband's clumsiness not interrupting what you both were craving.

Mingyu was buzzed with excitement since this morning, touchier than usual as he waited to have you all for himself. He planned ahead, taking time to prep himself when he took a shower this morning, so there was no time wasted today. There was nothing more that Mingyu wanted other than a glimpse of the feeling he had last time.

You two touch and grope at each other feverishly, and you strip each other of all of your clothes. You momentarily gawk at your husband's naked body. Sure, you saw him undress all the time, but you were too busy to appreciate your husband's body. You wanted him to know how sexy he truly was.

Mingyu let out a moan as you kiss his chest, bending down slightly to lick up his abs, his knees almost buckling at the feeling.

"Lay down for me, Mingyu," you breathe out, your voice low and seductive, so sexy that any man would listen to you. And he does.

Mingyu lays on the bed like last time, but this time having his feet planted on the bed without your guidance.

You feel a tingle shoot to your core as you hungrily gaze at your husband in full display before you. You crawl between his legs, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you hold yourself up with the other.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted this, my pretty boy. How many times I've thought about bending you over the counter whenever you made breakfast and making your pretty ass mine," you breathe out before dipping your head to kiss along his neck and collarbones, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

Mingyu's cock twitches beneath you as he moans from the feeling of your lips marking his skin.

"My ass is already yours— always has been, baby," he laughs. His hands grip your waist as you continue to kiss his skin, making your way up to his ear to give it soft nibbles.

"Yeah? All mine, baby? You're gonna let me stretch you out like last time?" You whisper in his ear, your voice making his cock twitch again.

Mingyu nods, his hips bucking upwards to rub his cock against you.

"So hard, and I've barely done anything yet. I don't think you're gonna last very long, Gyu," you tease as you lean back, taking Mingyu's cock in your hand to toy with his tip, a single bead of precum leaking out of him.

"I-I've been saving myself for you. I haven't even touched myself since," Mingyu admits as he squirms from the attention to his sensitive tip. You raise an eyebrow at your husband, shocked at the fact that he hasn't had an orgasm in so long.

"Poor baby probably has so much backed-up cum. I bet you're gonna make a fucking mess tonight. Gonna cover yourself in all your cum when I fuck your ass," you pout at him, feigning sympathy, which only makes another bead of precum drip out of him.

You let go of Mingyu's aching cock to reach into the bedside table, pulling out the same bottle of lube as last time. You follow the same steps as last time, rubbing the lube between your fingers and rubbing it along his hole in slow circles.

The speed of your actions was agonizing for Mingyu, his head throwing back as he groaned in frustration.

"Fuck—just put it in already, please."

You giggle at your husband's lack of patience but decide to give him what he wants, sliding two fingers in, causing him to sigh in relief.

"I finger you once, and all of a sudden, you're acting like a slut who can handle more. Don't get too ahead of yourself, Mingyu."

Before Mingyu can respond, a loud moan rumbles out of him, his head pushing against the pillows as his back arches off the bed when you curl your fingers just like last time, hitting his prostate with damn near perfect precision.

"Shit— so fucking good," he moans out, his eyes shut as your fingers prod against his prostate over and over.

Like last time, his cock leaks precum, pooling on his stomach.

You coo praises as your other hand slowly rubs his shaft, your fingers still working inside of him. Mingyu lets out a string of moans mixed with a few curses that slip out of him, his brain foggy from all of the pleasure.

The tight feeling in his stomach causes him to snap his eyes open, his hands darting down to push yours away from him in a hurry.

"Shit—did I do something wrong? Is everything okay, Mingyu?" You panic as you immediately take your hand off his cock and slowly pull out your fingers. You watch as Mingyu pants, licking over his lips before responding.

"I'm g-great—more than great, baby. I didn't want to cum before you got to fuck me," he breathes out, a rosy hue covering his face and chest. Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, noticing it sticking to his forehead.

A deep sigh leaves your lips, relieved that nothing's wrong. You run your hands over Mingyu's thighs as you lean over to press a kiss to his lips, his head lifting from the bed to chase after your lips when you pull away too soon.

"Stay right here, baby," you whisper to him as you get off the bed. Mingyu stares at the ceiling. Sounds of you shuffling around in the bathroom are the only thing heard, along with his heavy breaths. Mingyu turns his head to look at the closed bathroom door, worried about how long you were taking.

"Everything okay, sweetheart?"

"I'll be out in a minute!" Your voice calls out from behind the door as you adjust the strap-on, ensuring it's perfectly secured. You had a few toys of your own that were compatible with most strap-ons but were probably too big of a jump for Mingyu, who only knew what two of your fingers felt like. You were used to having Mingyu's thick cock in you, but Mingyu wouldn't be able to handle one close to his size just yet.

So, you opted for this one. A solid black one that was soft to the touch, curved at the end, came with its own strap and was a decent length and thickness for a beginner.

You turn to look at yourself in the mirror, straightening your back with newfound confidence before you exit the bathroom.

Mingyu's eyes quickly find your figure walking towards him, his eyes catching the toy that was now strapped onto you. His cheeks flush as he bites his lip, trying to hide his excitement as you crawl onto the bed. You bite back a smile of your own as you spread your husband's legs apart further, settling your body in between them.

"Do you want it like this, baby? We can try a different position if you want," you coo out, your fingertips trailing along his inner thighs.

You watch the cogs of Mingyu's brain turn as he thinks about your question. He had done some research himself and knew exactly what he wanted to try first.

"Can I lay on my stomach? I always fuck you like that, so I'm curious what it feels like—and I heard it's a good way to start," your husband shyly asks.

You nod your head with a reassuring smile, helping Mingyu flip onto his stomach, giving you a good look at his ass that you were ready to fuck. You feel arousal drip down your legs as you position yourself over Mingyu. His arms find comfort folding underneath the pillows as he turns his head to the side, waiting for more.

Kisses up his back and your hand rubbing over his ass, occasionally squeezing at it, causing Mingyu to sigh, his hips squirming against the bed, and his cock rubbing against the mattress.

"Fuck—Y/N, don't tease me," he moans out, lifting his hips to push his ass against your loving caresses.

"I'm not teasing you, baby. I'm appreciating you, am I not allowed to appreciate what a nice ass my husband has?" You said it was all mine, right?"

A shaky breath leaves Mingyu's lips as your words manage to turn him on more, his hips lifting once more.

"All yours— but please fuck me already," he whines, his lack of patience evident."

You chuckle softly at your husband's begging but decide to play nice tonight, reaching over to grab the bottle of lube and coating the toy thoroughly. Your hand spreads Mingyu's ass apart, letting some of the lube drip down onto his hole. You set the bottle aside, still holding his ass open so you could line the toy up to his tight hole.

"Now you know how it feels when you tease me, Mingyu."

You slowly push the toy inside of him, the curved end slipping past the tight rim. The toy was undoubtedly thicker than your fingers causing Mingyu to hiss at the new stretch. You do a quick check-in to ensure he's okay, only pushing more of the toy in when your husband gives you the green light.

Mingyu moaned as the tip of the toy nudged against his prostate, the curved tip instantly pressing against it as it slipped inside him. You soothing rub his lower back as you push the toy deeper inside of him inch by inch, letting him adjust to the new size.

"You're doing so well, baby. I'm almost all the way in. Such a good boy taking my cock," you purr out, shifting your knees on the bed, the toy moving inside of him and drawing out another moan from your husband.

Once you fit all of the toy inside of him, you stop moving, letting Mingyu embrace the full feeling before telling you to start moving.

You slowly start pulling out, your husband moaning at the feeling and letting out an even louder moan when you push your hips forward, the toy nustling deep inside of him. You repeat the same slow thrusts, biting your lips as Mingyu falls apart underneath you.

Mingyu couldn't control the way his body was moving underneath you, squirming at the feeling of the toy repeatedly hitting that spot that made his brain turn to mush. He could tell he could cum from this alone. All the weeks' worth of build-up only made him more sensitive, his body craving a release. He thought it couldn't get any better until you spoke up.

"Should I turn it on now?"

In his fucked out state, his brows furrowed, confused as to what you were talking about.

"T-turn it on? Turn what—" he turns speechless, his mouth falling open as a high-pitched moan escapes him, his eyes rolling back to his skull as he feels a vibration inside of him and hit against his sweet spot.

Oh yeah, and the toy vibrated.

You bite your lips as your eyes scan your husband's frame, more of your arousal dripping down your thighs as he thrashes underneath you from the intense feeling. Precum soaks into the bed as he feels his orgasm building and building with every thrust of your hips. You paid no attention to the tired feeling creeping up on you, your mind too focused on making your husband lose his mind.

"That's it, baby. I bet you can't wait to cum, hm? Gonna make a big mess for me? Maybe we should flip you over so I can watch you cum all over yourself."

Mingyu nods his head to your words, letting out a broken sob when you pull out to help him flip back onto his front. You smile at the glazed look in his eyes and his flushed face, resembling how he looked when he was drunk. But there was no alcohol in his system, the dazed expression on his face a product of the pleasure you were giving him.

You hold Mingyu's legs open with one hand as you line up the vibrating toy up to his hole, pushing into him with ease this time around. Although this wasn't for you necessarily, you enjoyed this position more, loving the way you could watch your husband's eyes roll back, his mouth unable to close as whines and moan of ecstasy left his pretty lips.

You could tell Mingyu was getting close as you thrust the toy into him a bit faster. His breath sped up the closer he got, hands gripping the pillow underneath his head as his entire body shook with the need to cum.

"S' close— fuck! Don't stop, baby. So, so close," he sobs out, his eyes tightly shut as he tries to prepare himself for the orgasm that would come any second now.

Your hand cups his balls, gently fondling them, and that's all Mingyu needs to send him over the edge. You watch in awe as your husband's back arches off the bed, a deep and long moan echoing out of him as thick cum oozes out of his cock, seeming to never end as it pools and drips from his stomach. His whole body shakes uncomfortably, his eyes rolling back as the only thing Mingyu can feel is a warmth shooting throughout his entire body. This was much different than his usual orgasms. The feeling wasn't even remotely the same. You helped him ride out his everlasting orgasm, his body continuing to shake even when he had no more cum left to shoot out.

You turn off the vibrator and slowly bring your movements to a halt when your husband whines about the feeling.

"Too much— too much." His back finally makes contact with the bed again, trying to come down from his high. You stay inside of Mingyu for a few more seconds before slowly guiding the toy out of him, him wincing when the tip grazes his sweet spot.

"You came so much, baby. Made such a pretty mess for me," you coo out, leaning over to swirl your finger in the pool of cum on his stomach.

Mingyu remains silent, still trying to catch his breath, his body convulsing every few seconds from the aftershocks of his orgasm. You lap up some of his cum with your tongue as your husband has just enough energy to grab your face, pulling you up to him so he can taste himself off your lips.

"Have fun?" You ask rhetorically, a dazed chuckle leaving his lips as he opens his eyes to finally look at you, the look of lust in his eye now replaced with love and affection (and tiredness).

"Mhm, thank you, Y/N. I love you," his words come out in a whisper, his voice huskier than usual from all the moaning.

You smile and cup your husband's face, kissing his lips again.

"I love you too. Let's get cleaned up, yeah? I'll make us something to eat."

Mingyu raises an eyebrow at you, not wanting to address the issue with what you just said. You bite your lip as you roll your eyes at him, letting go of his face to run them down his shoulders.

"Fine, I won't cook. But I'll order something for us to eat and just pretend I'm an amazing chef in my head. Is that better?"

Mingyu smiles at you and nods his head, rolling the two of you over to lay face to face on your sides, not paying mind to the cum dripping onto the bed.

"Much better. I wouldn't want to find a way to explain to Y/DN why we have to move out after you set the kitchen on fire."

Your husband shushes your annoyed response with his lips, distracting you from the rude (but believable) words that left his lips.

Damn him and his kissable lips.

2K notes · View notes

ichigoromi · 2 years ago

Text

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧| 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

Hiii, it's been a long time since I've posted! I am back briefly, just to post a little gift that I have been keeping for some time😅 I hope y'all are doing fine!

Work has been busy, but I am taking time to write again...and it has not been going well.

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi (timeskip) x Y/n (she/her)

Genre(s): Romance, some light angst(?)

Warning(s): mentions of drinking, y/n being drunk

Enjoy!

Sakusa Kiyoomi

Recently, your relationship with Sakusa has been going through a rough patch where you would start fighting over minor things.

You started going on more business trips, and he travelled more often due to his activities as a national athlete.

Today was the worst. He just woke you up abruptly and started a fight about you never keeping the house clean, and it all blew out from there.

So, instead of sitting down and talking about the problems you two have, you went to the company’s weekly dinner, which you rarely did, and now going for the third round.

Your subordinates are scared as you down the tenth(?) pint of beer at this place.

And it was time for you to head home after seeing your drunken state.

They haul a taxi for you, and soon, you are returning home to your place.

Somehow, you managed to haul your drunken ass back to the apartment in one piece. You fumbled with the door lock, finally got the pin right, and entered your home. Sakusa was sleeping soundly on the sofa, waiting for you because it was unlike you to return home so late.

You shrug off your heels and are about to leave it sprawled on the floor, but then your boyfriend hates it like that. In the darkness, you put your heels back in the shoe closet and walk into the living room.

“Hmm? Why are you outside~? You should sleep inside, and where’s yer blanket?” He was asleep on the sofa without a blanket, and you knew he might catch a cold if he continued to sleep outside without the thick duvet.

It was hard to walk straight while drunk, but you dragged out your heavy duvet and lay it over your sleeping boyfriend.

“Night night, Mimi. I’m sorry, too~.” You leaned over and kissed his forehead, cheeks and lips before collapsing on the warm wooden floor, falling asleep almost immediately.

[The following day…]

Sakusa woke up to you holding his hand and sleeping on the floor, curled up to your golden retriever, who casually becomes your bolster. He saw that you were still wearing the clothes from yesterday and the duvet over him.

He carefully moved your arms away and carried you back into the bedroom. Sakusa then proceeds to change you out of your clothes into a shirt of his because you love sleeping in his shirt, which he loves and hates because you look cute, but he is always running out of clothes.

When he makes sure you are clean and comfortable, he heads to the kitchen to make breakfast and prepare a hangover cure when you wake up.

You woke up with a splitting headache and dragged your feet to the bathroom to freshen up, but that did not help your hangover.

“Jin? Mama is not in the mood to play now. Go find papa.” But your loyal companion continued to stay by your side.

And you feel it.

Sakusa could hear you emptying your guts in the bathroom; he turned off the gas cooker and rushed to you. He held your hair back while rubbing your back soothingly as you puked into the toilet bowl.

Even though Sakusa is very uncomfortable with this, his precious girlfriend is very sick and needs him by her side.

“I’m sorry, Mimi. I know it’s disgusting-” You were going to apologise to him, but he cuts you off immediately.

“Don’t apologise. I’m the one who should be apologising. Are you feeling better?” Before you could answer him, you were puking again.

He helps you up from the floor and passes your rinsing glass to rinse your mouth before getting your toothbrush. You brush your teeth thoroughly before gurgling mouthwash. Sakusa holds you close to him as you two walk towards the living room.

After all that puking, you were exhausted and famished. Sakusa, he holds you close to him, and you lean on to him.

“I think we should go on a date later tonight. I’ll reserve at that restaurant and get you-” You shushed him with a kiss. He instinctively holds your waist, eagerly bringing you closer to him.

When you pull away, you start laughing.

“I don’t need no high-class restaurant. Let’s catch a movie and go to the arcade, then have oden by the roadside stall and have a night walk with Jin, just like old times. That’s what I’ll like. I feel like because we are not spending enough time together or having talks like a couple, it causes us to drift apart. So, what do you think?” You suggested while looping your arms around his neck and straddling him on his lap.

“I love it.” He leans in and pulls you into another deep kiss.

🍓's taglist — @wolffmaiden @mysterypotatoink @notamazinglizzy @daydreaming-bao @freaknerdanfie @coconut-dreamz @slurp-slurp-slurp @ushygushybaby @Gukksen @gukksldp @chloee0x0 @eclairia-monarch @lynvshuji @yurirhsk

Wanna join my taglist? Join here~!

It's not long, but I hope you guys enjoyed it! This is my last post of 2022, and I wish everyone a good year ahead and stay safe and healthy!

I miss you guys, and I will come back soon!

With lots of love,

Rosalie🍓

©️ ICHIGOROMI — Please do not plagiarise my work or re-edit and repost as your own.

Reblogs are appreciated!

580 notes · View notes

deirakizuna · 4 years ago

Text

Alright i'm back

#you most likely didn't notice that i stopped using tumblr for a week #i decided to take a break because i couldn't handle the amount of negativity i was seeing in here #and i learnt a lot about myself in that week i asked myself many things and stuff #but in short: from now on i'm not gonna take it. i need to reshape my online experience to one that doesn't cause me distress #and by that i mean that i'm gonna unfollow a bunch of people. clean my dash a bit more.#fyi if we're mutuals or anything and you see that i unfollowed you: i have nothing against you personally so please don't beat yourself up #if i unfollowed you then maybe it's because you reblogged something that i either don't want to see or that distressed me enough #and since i can't block individual posts i have chosen the closest non-confrontational solution #which is to simply unfollow #again: i don't want to cause conflict and neither do i believe i can change your way of seeing things drastically #which is why i'd rather just. go and let you be. and also let myself be.#so please don't go to my inbox asking for an explanation. because i know that my answer could cause a misunderstanding.#and misunderstandings often lead to conflict. i don't want that for you nor to myself.#i'm also doing this because i've noticed that tumblr has gone from being my comfort space to being a stage #where we're all supposed to perform and act high and mighty or else we'll be treated like trash. and i don't want that.#this used to be my safe space. and it has become a site i dreaded to go back to after i took a week off of. i'm gonna change that.#so for closing this off: i have nothing against you. but i suggest that you investigate on your own the things you take as a fact here.#because it's most likely that the post you reblogged is spreading misinformation and causing more harm than good #AND please. Accept that people make mistakes. children make mistakes. teenagers too. and adults even more.#let people learn from them and grow from the experience. let yourself learn as well from your own mistakes.#and never forget that you're a human too. craft your online experiences to your tastes and comfort. you don't have to apologize for that.#anyways i'm done ranting. let's get back to weird funny posts and thirsting over fictional characters #because this has been my safe space for almost 10 years and i had to clean it up at some point. i don't even own a duster oh God--#deirakizuna #deira says stuff

0 notes

lackablazeical · 2 years ago

Text

Addams! AU snippet 2: 'Lab'

FULL CREDIT TO WRITER NewFallenLeaves ON A03! SHE IS THE BIGGEST SUPPORTER OF THIS AU, AND IS INCREDIBLY TALENTED AND SWEET. GIVE HER A COMMENT, KUDO, SHARE, WHATEVER. MAKE HER DAY JUST A BIT BETTER, SHE DESERVES ALL THE LOVE!

This specific snippet had actually been inspired by some art! Im pretty sure I've posted it before, but might as well also include it too! (It is pretty old, forgive meeeee LOL)

Full snippet below the cut! ⬇️⬇️⬇️

-----

Donnie had the setup exactly how he wanted.

The rat specimen was pinned to the exam table, paws impaled and spread. Its belly fur was scraped clear and the bloated, pink flesh exposed. It had died in the trap before Donnie could get to it (thank you, Mikey, for setting the couch on fire again and delaying him.) So no vivisection. But that was fine, dissection was the next best thing. Especially of a pregnant rat, oh, giddy grin, he was going to get a whole clutter of partially-developed babies to experiment on! And with Mikey and Raph off in the tunnels and Leo traipsing around the Hidden City somewhere, Donnie finally had a quiet afternoon to himself.

He intended to make the most of it.

Swiveling the lamp so the lighting beamed down on the specimen, he curled his fingers in anticipation. The mechanical scalpel joint lined up just at the top of the rat’s throat, where he could cut a straight line to open the abdomen–

“Donnieeeeeeeeee!”

Leo burst through the double doors. He waltzed across the room and flung himself over the dissection table, swooning like a lady in the throes of a fainting spell.

“Wha–” Donnie grabbed for his tray of needles and surgical knives before it upended and strewed across the floor. “Nardo! You’re squishing my specimen!”

Leo fixed him with a dreamy, half-lidded gaze. “I just met somebody.”

Donnie glowered. This was the reason Leo had barged into his lab? To annoy him with ceaseless gushing over some new simpleton he’d decided to pursue?

“You’ll never believe it,” said Leo. “I rescued him instead of mugged him.”

Donnie shook the table. “Didn’t you hear me? Get off.”

“He was cornered. By two smelly thugs. They had these adorable little switch knives, trying to be all intimidating. Donnie, I’m telling you, it would have been pathetic that he got himself hemmed in like that, if his cowering wasn’t so adorable.”

“Nardo…”

“You should have seen how cute his face was, all covered in blood!” Leo kicked his feet. “Oh, I couldn’t help myself. Don’t worry, don’t worry, you’ll be so proud of me, I only licked him a little–”

“I don’t have time for this–”

“--so I’m sure he knows I’m a gentleman. Oh, it was such a good thing I was there, those brutes were so unsophisticated, they wouldn’t have done anything right–”

“Oh my god would you just shut up!” Donnie dragged his hands down his face, opening a sliver on his cheek as the scalpel on his finger caught flesh. “What level of disinterest and indignation do I need to achieve before you get it through your addled brain? I do not care.”

Leo’s smirk never wavered. He held up his hand, smudged deep with red, and waggled his fingers. “Wanna sample?”

Donnie opened his mouth to argue, then hesitated. He peered a little closer at the smear of not-yet-coagulated blood. “...it was a yokai?”

“Mmm-hmmmm.”

“What type?”

“One you don’t have any blood work for yet.” Leo’s grin widened. “Rabbit. Or bunny. If there’s a difference.”

The swab was in Donnie’s hand before he realized he’d made the decision to reach for one. He soaked up a dribble from Leo’s wrist and snagged a clean Petri dish. “Of course there’s no difference, why do you think the combination term ‘bunny rabbit’ exists? It’s a hare that comes from another genus. And what do you want, huh? You don’t just saunter in here and offer me free DNA for my trials for nothing.”

“Can’t I help my dear brother with his evil lab experiments out of the goodness of my heart?”

“As if you have one.”

Leo dissolved into giggles.

Donnie capped the dish and pulled a fresh label from the drawer. “So? Spill. What am I beholden to you for after this oh-so-generous and selfless donation?”

“Oh, you know. Age, blood type, zodiac sign, debilitating allergies or hypersensitivities. Aaaand if you happen to match those to any particular medical records and it leads to a place of employment or a home address…”

“Don’t you have enough stalking victims already?”

Leo hopped off the metal slab and pirouetted his way out the door. “No such thing.”

#addams! tmnt au #rottmnt au #rottmnt #leo rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #cw dissection #cw animal cruelty #cw animal death #cw pregnancy mention #tmnt au #rottmnt fic #addams! leosagi #NewFallenLeaves #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt art

501 notes · View notes

callmeadin · 2 years ago

Note

Hiyaaa i saw tht u need inspo or smth idk

I was thinking maybe scaramouche x reader accidental confession if u want to write that

Dont overwork urself drink water AND EAT!!

a/n --- hi!!! thank you so much for requesting this, this was really fun to write! i kind of got ahead of myself lkdjfhsdkdf. i actually finished this several hours ago but i had to wait until school was out to post this lmao. i hope you like it!!!!

Accidental Confession

scaramouche x gn!reader

pronouns - they/them - not mentioned

warnings - none, really. not proofread, maybe ooc, a smidge of angst, fluff

"you... you what?"

• you didn't know that one of the fatui would find the trashed letter and give it to the sixth harbinger

• you actually weren't planning on giving it to him, ever really

• you just needed to put it into words and on paper

• it's not the first "letter" you've written either; you just always made sure to keep them in a secured place or threw them away

• suppose you shouldn't be throwing them away anymore

luke was leaving one of the rooms given to you after delivering something from your aunt. he didn't find you in there, which was a surprise as you're almost always in there reading or painting. you aren't actually a member of the fatui, and you live with la signora. luke kicked something on his way out of the room.

he looked down to see that he kicked a trash can with the contents spilled. luke felt guilty and started to clean it up. as he was putting the several crumpled up and torn papers, he stopped when he found, what appeared to be, a sealed letter. picking it up, he turned it around to see if it was addressed to anyone only to read the name of the balladeer.

now luke was curious; why would you, one of the nicest people he knows and bickering with the aforementioned harbinger, have a letter written for lord scaramouche? and most importantly, why did you throw it away? regardless, he set it aside to continue cleaning the rest of the trash on the carpeted floor.

when he threw the last thing away, luke grabbed the letter next to him and stood up. he was supposed to go report to la signora that her gift had been delivered, but instead he moved towards lord scaramouche's office.

• at first, scaramouche didn't bother with the odd letter one of the subordinates gave him out of the blue

• but a couple of hours later he looked at it again

• looking closer, not only is it addressed to him of all people, but it's your handwriting

"you write letters?"

• this new found curiosity consumed him

• he was going to open it and read it

• only to be interrupted by tartaglia barging in

• scaramouche didn't get the chance to read what it was that you wrote for the rest of the day

the next few days were busy for the fatui. it was close to midnight and scaramouche was pretty sure that if he was a mortal, he would've been utterly exhausted. however, he was tired from doing so much paperwork and the mission from that day. he sat back in his chair and looking down at the stack of papers with a disdainful look, he sighed heavily. his eyes wander over to the locked drawer on his right, and remembered about your letter.

"i can give myself a break," he said under his breath as he unlocked it and gently grabbed the off-white letter. scaramouche didn't want to crumple it or anything; don't ask him why.

as he carefully cut the top open, he felt... dare he say, nervous. he couldn't figure out why.

"it seems like a lot of the things i've been feeling i can't figure out," exhaling a sigh to steel his nerves, he pulled out the folded piece of paper. "why would you write something to me, anyways?" he scrunched up his face when he heard his voice that just screamed desperate.

• he was too scared to see you the next day, because what if this was all a joke? he doesn't want to get betrayed for the fourth time

• scaramouche didn't last very long without confronting you about the letter

• he needed to know if it was true

there you were, chatting with viktor like there was nothing ever wrong. scaramouche stood there right outside of the open door, not knowing why he just can't interrupt you two. you're gesturing animatedly with a bright look on your face as you talk about a book you just finished. viktor's nodding along until he looks over at the silent third party.

"uh, hey, i don't mean to interrupt you, but i think i should get going," viktor says nervously. you hum and look over to the door and see scaramouche waiting.

"oh, alright," you give him a questioning look, but his expression is undecipherable. you wonder what he wants. as viktor leaves, scaramouche quietly walks in and closes the door, leaving the sound of the harmonic jingles that hang from his hat.

"what's wrong, little fandango man?" you try for a more lighthearted jab and tone.

"why did you write that?"

• you nearly felt your heart drop. but then you told yourself that it wasn't possible, cus you keep all of those unsent letters in a locked place

• but the way he asked that, and the way he's acting,

• but how would he have gotten one of them anyways???

"why... did i write what?" you felt your anxiety spike, your heartbeat increasing tenfold. out of the corner of your eye, you saw your trash can that was still filled with papers. it was by the door. it was supposed to be next to your small desk in the corner of the room. and you sure as hell don't see the last letter you wrote in there. your entire body grew cold.

"don't-"

"scara, i don't think you were supposed to read that."

his face scrunched up unpleasantly, though you suppose in a different circumstance you'd think it cute. "then why did one of la signora's subordinates hand me a letter, with my name written on it, and said that it was from you?" his tone became harsher, but not colder. he almost... sounded desperate.

you finally make yourself look at him, "i threw that away because i was scared of you seeing it," you said flatly. "you weren't supposed to ever see that, or read it, or know anything about that-"

"so is it true, then?" he cut you off.

"i," you hesitate, but with the way that scaramouche is looking at you, it might be better if you just tell him yourself. "yes, it is." you swallow. with more confidence, "yeah, i do love you."

• you can't tell if he looks devastated or happy, maybe both

• he takes off his hat so he can walk towards you

• he just leans against you without saying anything

• you allow yourself to card your fingers through his hair, finally confirming that it is as soft as it looks

• you two stay like that for a while, not saying anything

"why?"

"hmm, you read it, didn't you? believe it or not, i have more that i haven't thrown away," he immediately raises his head and asks,

"you what," you feel your face heat up.

"yeah, i do," you laugh softly.

your faces are pretty close, and so you do something that you weren't planning originally. as quick as lightning, you peck him on the lips. almost before you can, his entire face becomes red and he hides it behind his hands. the sight is absolutely adorable to you, and you laugh wholeheartedly.

scaramouche thinks your laugh is the most pleasant sound he has ever been graced with.

#genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #balladeer x reader #wanderer x reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #genshin impact #scramouche #GAH i hope this was okay

529 notes · View notes

jjmaybankshousekeeping · 2 years ago

Text

burden - jj maybank

summary - jj always feel like a burden to his girlfriend when she has to clean him up after he gets into a fight.

warnings - fluff, angst?

word count - 804

a/n - sorry if this isn't the best, i've never wrote anything like this before, but i'm trying my best. also, this ended up being a lot longer than anticipated, but oh well.

post number - 1

reader - she/her, fem!

add yourself to my taglist here

after a difficult eight hour shift, at the local walmart where she worked, yn made her way back to the château, the place where she practically lived at this point. it’d been a busy night, with multiple new customers coming in every minute or so, and then piling onto the register, that she was working on, five minutes later. given that she was the only one working on the registers after six pm, it was a very stressful night.

but she could forget all about that and relax once she got back to the château and could sleep all of the stress away.

once yn got to the château, she went straight into the spare bedroom, which her boyfriend had claimed as his own, expecting to see him in bed already, either waiting for her or already asleep. mildly surprising yn, jj was nowhere to be seen. however, she didn’t worry; instead she assumed he’d gone out to smoke, or for a late surf or walk.

she climbed into the double bed and immediately melted into the soft mattress. she leant against her silky, white pillow to check on her unread messages that she’d gotten since last time she’d checked. while reading her messages, yn saw a blonde haired boy enter the room in the corner of her eye. she didn’t remove her eyes from the screen as she assumed that jj would just join her in bed momentarily, which he did.

jj climbed underneath the duvet and moved over to where yn was sitting, before he dug his head into her stomach and snuggled up to her.

“hi, baby.” she said softly, still not looking away from the screen, running her hands through his soft blonde hair, “where’ve you been?”

“got caught up at the club.” jj mumbled into his girlfriends shirt, which previously belonged to him.

“hm?”

he repeated himself, “caught up at work.”

“your shift finished at eight… it’s on. what kept you there for so long?” yn asked, growing slightly suspicious, finally looking at jj.

“nothing, don’t worry.”

“jj..” her tone changed. yn knew when something was wrong with her boyfriend.

“it's nothing.”

yn tugged jj’s hair softly, to make him look at her. his face was covered in small cuts and bruises, and he had a crimson liquid dripping from the largest cut on his face, which sat just below his right eye. yn took jj’s face in her hand.

“baby.. what happened?” she ran her thumb across his cheek.

“nothin- it’s nothing.” he brushed it off.

“jj, don’t lie to me. what happened?”

“nothing. me and rafe just sorta got into it at the club. don’t worry about it.” he pushed yn’s hand off, before going to his own side of the bed.

“why? did he say something again?”

jj sighed, knowing there was absolutely no way she was letting it go, “he said something about me being your bitch, and about how i’m a pussy when you’re not around. i-” his voice got stuck in his throat, “i just lost it. i’m so sick of him. he treats us all like shit because his daddy has money and ours don’t.”

by this point, yn had noticed the tear rolling down jj’s face, and his voice breaking in between words. she wiped the tear from his face, “please don’t cry, love.”

“sorry- he just really gets to me.”

“i know. let’s just get you cleaned up, and we’ll talk about it in the mornin’, yeah? i can tell you’re tired.”

“i’ll be fine. let’s just go to sleep.”

“jj, these could get infected. they need to be cleaned, baby. please just let me help you.”

“it’s fine.”

“jj-”

“i said its fine!” he snapped, shocking yn slightly, “i’m sorry- i’m just sick of burdening you all of the fucking time. every time i get into a fight, there you are; having to clean me up like i’m a fucking child! you’re probably so sick of me.”

“jj maybank, don’t you dare think that again.” she cupped his face, “jj, you are my boyfriend, you are not a burden to me in any way whatsoever. the fact you would even think that hurts me a little.”

“sorry. but rafe isn’t wrong. everytime i fight, i come running to you for help-”

“you don't come running to me.” yn interrupted, “i help you because i want to help you, and i like helping you. that’s what girlfriends are for.”

“right. i know that, but he gets in my head.”

she smiled at him softly, “well don’t let him. his opinion means fuck all.”

he chuckled, “i love you, yn”

“I love you too, jj.” she pressed her lips against jj’s cut ones, softly, making sure not to hurt him anymore than he already was, “now let's get you cleaned up.”

690 notes · View notes

willowser-but-nsfw · 2 years ago

Text

[ nsfw ] - post-apocalyptic au (mentions of guns, blood, war, fighting for survival) ; probably ooc bakugou because of the setting ; implied/minor shinsou x reader ; smut (18+) (may or may not be exposing my spit kink with this one LOL)

[ word count ] - 7.5k

"y'want me to do it?"

it smells like copper.

when you press your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you taste blood; a preemptive warning for what's coming, what you'll spill. for some reason, the rifle feels heavier than usual today.

"c'mon, what're you waiting for?"

maybe it's because you can't see his face. seems immoral that way. maybe it's because showing your back to someone is a sign of weakness in the world now and everyone knows that; him walking backwards to the safehouse, one arm barely raised in surrender — that's trust. that you won't do exactly what you're planning to do to him.

"gonna let him knock on the front door or what?"

"would you shut up?" you hiss, snapping back to fix your watch-partner with a glare. "i'm trying to focus."

he only raises one eyebrow, lazily gesturing back out to the road where the figure is stumbling along. despite hitoshi's easy facade, you can tell there's a sincerity to his words, even more evident in the tight hand he has around his own gun. he's allowing you the time, the chance to make your own decision, but he's as much a guard to the house as you are.

holding your breath, you look back through the glass reticle and find the man again. the gun aizawa gave you is from before the war, but it'll still take a raider's head off if you aim it right, and it won't be clean about it, either. even from where you're sitting in the watch blind, you have him clear in your sights and all you have to do is rid the tension from your shoulders and ease out your breath and —

the man crumples into the dirt, and stays there. a dusty lump of skin and bone and uncertainty.

when you pull back to look at hitoshi, he ignores you, frowning at the sight. the rusted chair he's half-leaning back in creaks when it hits the floor, screeching as he scoots to its edge to better survey the road. it's been a few days since he's shaved, the skin underneath his sprouting hairs irritated from where he's been scratching.

"this is a trap if i've ever seen one."

"so what are we supposed to do?" you pull the rifle from where it'd been perched on the ledge — something that deepens hitoshi's frown; a finality. "just leave him there?"

("we can't lose our humanity," aizawa told you, both, as you all stood on the screened-in porch, watching eri make dolls from sticks and straw in the yard. it hadn't been long after you joined their encampment, and you'll never forget the way he looked at you. with trust, pleading, that you wouldn't become everything they feared. "or else we'll be no different than the damn machines.")

hitoshi finally looks at you with his heavy, withdrawn eyes, and he looks the same as he did the night he found you in that ditch, all alone and bleeding out. he could have just left you to die on some excuse about not having the room or space or resources to take on another mouth to feed, but —

frustrated, he shakes his head, chasing away his compassion and memory in staunch self-defense. "this is a trap."

it's been a few days since either of you have seen another person this far out west, even longer since raiders have come along and met their own graves. a sweeter aspect to having the safehouse on a hill: you can see anything coming for miles. it gives you all the time you need to prepare for bandits and thugs, the wayward todoroki corporation 'droids that scan this edge of the earth.

you can see anything coming, even the end. and it can see you, too.

you don't argue because his concern is rooted in truth; what little peace you've had is bound to expire. it never lasts very long. people are getting desperate, moreso than usual. aizawa predicts a fourth of the population won't make it without food and shelter and something to keep warm when the next winter hits — which isn't far off.

out on the road, the lump never moves.

"fuck it," you grunt, kicking your chair back as you stand. your rifle strap slips over your head easily, the weight of it grounding as nerves light with unease. "just—cover me."

hitoshi glares, but doesn't move to stop you. "you're explanin' this to shouta on your own."

you shuffle down the rickety ladder, jumping off as soon as you can because you hate the stupid thing. the dehydrated skeleton of a bush snaps when you clamber through it, kicking along dead limbs and branches and thorns until you reach the barren, dirt road.

once you're out in front of the blind, you give a thumbs up and you don't move until hitoshi's light flashes twice, hidden by what remains of an old pine.

even from where you're standing, you can hear the man breathing, wheezing audibly enough that your own chest tightens in response. could be from the storms and their acidic haze, or prolonged exposure to radiation that's started to eat him up from the inside; either way, you don't think it sounds like he has long.

before you can fully approach, the up-close sight of him stops you dead.

half-alive. battle-torn, much more than you expected; your mouth fills with saliva at the dried clumps of blood clinging to one side of his face, crusted over with debris and muck. his right arm is — fucked, to say the least, and he's at least lucid enough to know it, cradling it close to his body as if you're going to steal what's left of it.

only his left eye is open, probably the only one that can still make out a damn thing, and he watches you, half-lidded.

an explosion of some sort; probably set off a mine in that airfield north of here. must have walked near 50 kilometers in this direction, which would explain why he's in such a piss-poor state. rifling through his pockets produces hardly anything, save for some lint and a small folding knife — that you do take, for good measure. not once does he try to stop you (as if he even could), choosing instead to take you in the only way he can.

you sit back to check his ears, and his head moves without fight. maelleable. surrendered. his right one is hard to find, underneath the blood. "can you hear me?" unsurprisingly, you receive no response. probably can't hear a thing. "hey. can you hear me?"

but then — he blinks, twice and slow.

behind you, the nuclear glow of night begins to unravel and you can feel it nipping at your skin; cold and chemical, a fresh burn under running water. another quick flash of light means to hurry you along, but you just raise a hand to hitoshi.

"you can hear me?" your voice drops considerably, to a narrowly audible whisper. the kind you would use with a newborn, or when trying to calm a wounded animal. "blink twice."

he does.

something softens in your chest, something that's long since crusted over. you've become so used to finding the threat in everything, you've forgotten what it looks like to need help, and now it's staring you in the face. carmine and bleary and scared. you can't feel his skin beneath your gloves, but you touch the sharp curve of his brow, wiping away the grime.

"hitoshi," you call, "get the horse. and the stretcher."

aizawa doesn't say anything when you get back. no one does. not even him.

it takes effort to care for him, which you think is the lesson you're meant to learn — the hard way. after he's loaded into the house, the hands that tend to him are your own and no one else's; the water you boil for your own bath goes to him, trying to carefully wash his wounds as he watches you, unchanged; for the first two nights, you give him your rations, until you're so hungry that you have to split them.

he doesn't speak to you. doesn't make any sounds, not besides his ever-present wheeze — which you have to get used to sleeping beside. you give him your sleeping bag, though you don't mind the floor as much as you thought you would.

there are no grunts of pain, not even when you have to peel the tattered remains of his clothes from his arm, just to wrap up the gristle that's still attached to him. he'll probably lose it, if he's lucky, but you've got nowhere near that kind of medical expertise and kayama hasn't been back for a few months. longer than anyone has expected. he'll have to wait, just like everyone else.

there's — little you can actually do for him besides bandaid-ing him together, because you're so afraid of hurting him or making any and all of his situations worse that you take your time. too much maybe. pulling a shirt over his head and squeezing warm water out of a towel down his grisly body and even feeding him; you're hardly able to take care of yourself. doing it for someone else proves to be a challenge. lesson learned, though the regret never comes.

three weeks go by, before he tells you his name.

you're sharing a granola bar and a can of peaches from your own personal stash, enjoying the peace and quiet of the dining-room-turned-barracks. hizashi has been taking your watch shifts and in return you've been helping eri out in the garden, tending to the field behind the house so that you can be close, just in case.

("is he going to die?"

she's afraid of him. you can tell by the careful way she watches him, shallow little breath held whenever you help him to stand for another round of clean bandages. she rotates who she sleeps with because she doesn't have a bed of her own, and since you've given your pillow up to your half-man, she's kept her distance, both when awake and not.

"what?"

she swallowed and turned her attention down to her nails, picking at the dirt underneath them as you tossed another potato into the bucket she was holding.

"him. hitoshi said—"

"i don't care what he said." you barked, harsh and in a way you would feel guilty for later, but it made sure she didn't ask again.)

the right half of his face is completely bandaged up, making him look more mummy than man, and his eye is trained on the spoon of peaches you keep feeding him. he takes it patiently, but there's an eagerness to his bite that has you worrying he's going hungry.

he's much bigger than you; that, you could tell even before you got his clothes off. his shoulders are wide, broad, and the strength they carry couldn't have been born from anything but healthy labor. it's been a long time since you've seen someone so well-fed and it makes everyone seem smaller and more feeble in comparison, has you wondering where he could have possibly come from, before he got nearly blown to hell.

you don't care what hitoshi is saying. that he's questioning everything now.

defiantly, you think that maybe if he'd helped with the wound-washing and bandaging, he'd know how much meat and tissue and muscle lies beneath your half-man's skin. no wires or tracking chips. no metal. just human.

you can't explain why he doesn't cry or speak or even cringe, but emotion is in there, somewhere. maybe next to his hunger and his trust. the sense he has to touch you with only gentle, considerate intent.

a 'droid wouldn't do that. all of you know it, from experience.

"i have to go into town soon,"

he watches you carefully, teeth clicking against your spoon when he closes his mouth around it. food gets shoved into the left side of his cheeks on instinct and it reminds you of some rodent you're sure doesn't exist anymore.

"i'll be gone a few days, but i have enough food squared away that no one should bother you." even if they don't want him here, you know the rest of the house won't put him out, not with you gone — but still; you want to take care of the only tension they could have with him. "i'll leave you my pack if it will—"

"i have to go to kamino."

stunned, you look up at him, spoon midway between the two of you. your half-man stares back, blinking as if he's just woken up from a long and fitful sleep.

"you can talk?"

"yes." his brow furrows, as if your question is irrelevant or maybe stupid. "i have to go to kamino."

"uh," now you blink, trying to picture a map in your mind. the miles stretch on the further you think about it. "i don't think you'll get very far with the state you're in."

he nods, suddenly grim, and goes quiet. retreats to a place that's not here, with you, as his eye glazes over and sticks to the floor. you feed yourself a peach in an attempt to sweeten the sour feeling that bubbles up inside you.

you wait as long as you can before speaking again, until you can't take it. "you'll be moving on, then?"

he turns his head, focuses more on your face with his one eye and — you get the feeling it's the first time he's ever looked at you, really. which you know is stupid because he's done nothing but watch you, but now: alive and aware, he catalogues your face, the dip of your shoulder, a stray scar that's jagged across your collarbone.

assigning it to memory, maybe.

"yes. when i'm better."

you shrug, and try to keep your mouth from curling down like it wants to. "might be a while."

"someone's waiting for me."

it makes you feel bitter, though it shouldn't. as if he's throwing all you've done for him in your face even though he's not.

you feel — overwhelmingly embarrassed at yourself, but it doesn't stop the burn that builds in your waterline.

people are so scarce these days, an endangered species. finding one to tuck into a worn sleeping bag, to rinse the dirt from their hair and help them with their clothes, to become reliant on the white-noise sound of their wheeze — it happened too easily. lesson learned.

your half-man shuffles in front of you, nodding back at to the granola until you're feeding him again. a spell has been broken now, and because he's talked and shown plans to leave, you think he should maybe be feeding himself. but what the hell.

cheek full, he asks, "you know where kamino is?"

again, you picture the map in your mind, frowning at the distance. "it's not close."

"can you take me there?"

you shake your head; whiplash. two days ago, he couldn't stand on his own and now he's trying to lead an expedition half-way across the country. briefly, you picture it: him and you, snaking down the beaten path, avoiding the highways and finding old 100-yen shops to sleep in. using the aisle shelves like a bunk-bed, him on the bottom. wheezing until you're lulled to sleep.

when you look back at him, he's frowning. "i-what? me?"

again he makes that face: furrowed brow, mouth slanted like he can't comprehend your question — or why you've asked it.

"i can't just," you glance back, checking the room for open ears. "i can't just leave them."

"why not?"

"because," now you frown. "they've — been good to me and i don't want to abandon them." you close your eyes and you're in the dark again, being eaten up by ants and the dry, nuclear heat of summer. left to die, all alone. "they saved me."

it's silent for a long time, his voice echoing in your ears now that you've heard it. when you blink back into the here and now, he's just staring down at the floor again, already gone.

"besides," you continue, more eager to hear him speak than you're willing to admit. "i don't even know who you are."

"bakugou katsuki," he murmurs, automatic. his eye flicks to you and — you think it could be glowing, in the low light. carmine, like the burn of a fire. "my name is bakugou katsuki."

you and hitoshi find treasure in a nearly ran-sacked pharmacy; enough antibiotics to last a while, maybe longer if everyone is careful enough to avoid scrapes and burns and scratches. there's a tub of vaseline and a dented can of coffee grounds, something that aizawa will be ecstatic about, even if he doesn't have a half-decent way to use them.

it takes a day and a half to get into town because you only travel at night, and you spend a chilly evening under a crumbling overpass, housed in the rubble. shinsou even shares his beans. all around a win-win, in your book.

it's not until you're on the way back that disaster strikes.

you get comfortable, pig-headed from the weight of the haul on your back, and you cut across a desolate highway in an attempt to shorten the trip. both of you are too eager to get back and share your spoils, and it makes you careless.

hitoshi is in the middle of probing you about bakugou, when aqua lights flash off the failing frame of an old house.

"'m jus' sayin'," he grunts, shrugging. "he's pretty weird, don't you think?"

you don't want to answer him, but his question is so childish that you can't help it. "so are you, but i'm not judgin', am i?"

even in the dark, his wide smile is obvious, and he opens his mouth to retort something that will surely infuriate you when it seems as if the whole sky lights up. you know it doesn't really, but the neighborhood has been nothing but the skeleton of the world before, and to see the light after only traveling in the dark almost has you blinded.

hitoshi grabs you by the arm and you're being dragged through the dirt before you have time to blink. he doesn't have to tell you to keep quiet; you hold your breath, mouth open, tasting only the salt from his palm and your own fear.

the night-cover is meant to protect from raiders and feral animals.

aizawa says that the 'droids are heat-seeking.

aizawa says, "there's no hiding from them."

you're both bent awkwardly behind a mound of rusted scrap metal and old rubber, legs and back folded to better blend in, though you have no idea if you even will, and the light flashes like a heartbeat in the distance. a block or two down, you think, if you're as good with distance as you think you are, and you track the echo of it underneath the remaining war-haze that blocks the stars.

not even a thought crosses your mind as it trails across the horizon, getting further and further away until it stops completely. and then fear sets in like a cold sweat.

during what few run-ins you've had with the todoroki 'droids, they've never just — gone away; they have to be dismantled, head pried from their shoulders. a thick piece of some kind of metal you've never known the name of sits at the base of their skull, soldered beneath their fake, translucent skin, and getting it off is a bitch and a half.

but if you don't, it won't stop. ever.

you have to get out of here, far away before it gets closer and hears the rapid drum of your heart, but — should you run? no doubt it'll hear your footsteps across the ground, every breath that rushes from your lungs, and it'll reach you way before you can get —

hitoshi moves his hand from your mouth and your eyes flick up to his, the direction he points to — south, back to the safehouse — but it's hard to move your limbs from where they've frozen over with cold fear. your hands are shaking, shoulders, too, but you slowly push yourself to your feet, crouching close to him.

he doesn't say anything, and he won't; you've just got to trust him.

it's been so long since you've encountered one. since you've even seen one this far out. you're half a day from the house, but that's still close, in the grand scheme of things. dangerously, your mind dips into dread, imagining the copper smell of your encampment, if they've been found first.

you can't go there. not now.

hitoshi takes low, careful steps away from the corroded junk metal, crossing from dead tree to dead tree as softly as he can, and you follow even as tears well up in your eyes.

all you can see is eri's little face. the last thing you said to her. how shouta gripped hitoshi's shoulders, murmuring something meant for only him.

how bakugou looked, forlorn, on the inside of the porch screen as you headed off into the night.

you can't go there. not now.

walking so close to the ground strains the muscles in your calves and they burn, full of fire and tension, but you trail him as long as you can, for what feels like hours before you're finally out of the neighborhood and back on the barely-trodden trail. it's not until you can stand that you finally breathe — or at least, that's how it feels, with how tightly your lungs have shriveled — and shinsou turns to stare at you, wide-eyed.

"what the fuck!" he whispers, harsh, before pointing to where you've come. "what the fuck!"

"i know!"

"no, not 'you know', this isn't a fucking coincidence!"

all your fear crescendos, crumbles into fury. "what?" you snap back from him as if he's slapped you, teeth bared, feral.

"he's a goddamn infiltrator!" no names need to be said in order for the message to get across. "another fucking hunk of tin!"

"you don't know anything," you say it for nothing, because he won't stop talking over you. "i've had his blood all over my fucking hands, hitoshi! his arm is nothing but a wad of meat and bone, and you'd know that if you—"

"hello."

hitoshi spins around before your argument finishes settling on the air, placing himself between you and the half-crouched figure watching you from the tree line. hands raised in surrender. just like bakugou.

in no time, the both of you have your rifles loaded, staring down the reticle with the stranger's head in your sights.

"i'm alone," the man says, and you see a flash of white hair as he fully stands. the first thing you notice about him, is how immaculate he seems. untouched by the wasteland. "i just need some help."

"back off," shinsou barks, bumping into you as he takes a step backward, urging you to do the same. "turn around and forget you ever saw us."

"i just need some help." he says again — but his eyes glow blue in the shadows, hands clicking beneath his fleshy exterior, and then before you know it, an alarm screams, ringing so high in pitch that you're forced to drop your gun and cover your ears.

it doesn't last long; hitoshi manages to fire his rifle, clipping off half of its head just as it lunges for the both of you. it stumbles to the ground, sparking and zapping as it repeats "i just need some help, i just need some help," over and over and over, until hitoshi is firing down on it again, right at the height of its neck.

the world goes so silent, it hurts; you can feel a deep and thrumming pain in your ear canal, and when you pull your hands from your head, they're wet and dark in the hazy night glow. hitoshi tries to say something, but it's muffled, and then he's pushing you along in the night until you're both sprinting. running as fast and as far as your body will carry you.

it's day, when you reach the house.

aizawa doesn't care half as much about the coffee as he does about the noise you've made, that they heard all the way out here. he toys with his eye-patch, headache apparent on him as he rubs at the vein protruding in his forehead.

he's not mad at you, he says, but you'll have to be on the lookout. for what's sure to come, in the following days. boarding up the house, starting the generators around the property, just for the extra heat and distraction. you'll have to take longer watch-shifts, all of you. even eri.

day-old blood trickles down your shoulders and into the tub, when you dump a bucket of water over your head. it's the first thing you do — try and wash the excursion from your skin — and even though the water is warm and fresh-boiled, you can't stop shivering. digging your fingers into your arms as you hug yourself, head throbbing.

maybe it's because you haven't slept that you still feel like you're in that neighborhood, holding your breath as the neon warning flashes. if you close your eyes, it breathes behind your lids, white-hot and blinding. and your ears —

you barely register the door creaking, eyes snapping open as bakugou peeks his head in.

a fucking infiltrator.

your jaw loses tension as soon as it finds it, has you wincing from the ache, and you close your eyes and turn away from him. he should be able to take the hint. if he's human, then he'll understand how badly you want to be left alone. how badly you need to weigh your options, as the end looms over you all.

something buzzes in your ear, and when you turn to look back at him, he's sitting on the edge of the tub, staring down at the cloudy water.

"what?"

his eye snaps up to your own. aizawa's loaned an eye-patch to him and all his head wrappings are gone, leaving him to look, truly, like a half-man; scar and tissue and pink, with all his tenderness.

another fucking hunk of tin.

("you have to destroy they back of their neck. you have to, eri, do you hear me?"

she looked so young, so tiny, with a gun in her hands.

"they're all connected, and they can all track each other. one after another, they'll keep coming.")

you miss what bakugou says to you again and you shift, angling your head before shaking it.

"can you hear me?" he repeats, and you read the soft words against his lips. "blink twice if you can hear me."

and you do, slowly, leaving them closed as they burn with unshed, nuclear-hot tears.

it makes you jump, when his finger lightly touches your forehead, near your brow, and he watches with simple interest as water droplets collect on his skin. he trails lower, just under your ear, and then his brow furrows. that red gleam returns to his eye, like he's just waking up again.

"y'r bleedin'."

"not anymore," you can feel yourself talking too loud. "it's — fine." you mean for him to move his hand away, but he doesn't. and you don't make him.

instead it goes to your hair, where it's down and plastered against your skin, and he very carefully tucks it behind your ear before angling your head, as if he can see the damage better. he leans close, eye intent on where his skin meets yours.

and you can't take it anymore, as the tears finally run over your cheeks. "what the fuck are you?"

bakugou is half through a wheeze when you ask, and he stutters and coughs and — you just don't know. you can't fucking tell.

how human he seems. how gentle he can be.

how different he is.

"what?" he rasps, signature confusion decorating his half-face. "what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"i'll tell them," you seethe, though you don't mean word of it. "if you don't tell the truth right now, then i'll tell them what you are." a bitter laugh huffs out of you and his eyes narrow, annoyed almost. "who am i kidding? they probably already know and are just waiting to take your ass out. as soon as i give the word."

"i don't know what the fuck you're talkin' about."

"don't fucking lie to me," the words are lost to your ears, echoing somewhere in your skull — and even then, you can tell how desperate they sound. his eye tracks a fat, hot tear that slips from your own. "please don't lie."

bakugou doesn't answer, just frowns at your cheeks, and then he moves his hand to stroke the fat of them, gently. as always. he collects the tear on his finger and inspects it carefully, closely, before tasting it with the pink tip of his tongue; you and all your salt.

when he fixes his eye on you — so bright and red and alive — you lurch forward in the water, grabbing his face in your hands before yanking his mouth down to your own.

he grunts, loud and surprised, and he's hardly able to catch himself, hand going flat against the ceramic between your legs. you breathe him in deep through your nose: the subtly sweet scent of his sweat, the bitter fall air that's clinging to his soft skin — decayed leaves and earth and stratosphere, something foriegn and strangely clean.

your lips part his and your tongue slips into his mouth and he gasps lowly, sliding his hand in the water closer to you, moving in to press back against you with just as much hunger. it fans the flames to life in your belly and you drag him further into the water, until he has no choice but to fall in, knee thudding against the tub as he lets out a quiet "ow" against your lips.

you don't care — don't know how or what to care about — and you pull back from him to yank at the bottom of his shirt, stretching it out until he's able to slip it off his head, around the bandaged remnant of his arm with a little more concern; funny, how it's always him that's being careful.

in a world like this one, maybe that really does make him the outlier. maybe that really does mean he's something inhuman.

the thought threatens to make you sick and your lips tremble, scooting closer to hug your face into his warm, toned body as he struggles with the button on his pants. they're soaked and sticking to him and he gives up half-way through, instead moving to cup the back of your head so he can kiss you again. you note that he still tastes like peaches, just as saccharine.

you help him out of his worn jeans — which really is a struggle, thanks to you and your forcefulness — and you try not to be so obvious in your inspection of his dick. on a handful of occasions, you and hitoshi have fooled around and it's always been just like this: desperate. the need to feel skin on skin. to know that you're still alive.

when you wrap a hand around him, he sucks in a breath and groans into your mouth, pressing you back against the tub so he can hike your legs up around his hips. your not as ready as you could be, but you don't even care about that right now; you wet your fingers with your tongue even though you're half in the water and circle the swollen tip of him, watching the lip he digs his teeth into, his eye as it lids, as if he really feels it.

and you want him to really feel it.

the burn is good. the burn is what you want, though the quiet "fuck" he gasps into your ear has you shuddering. bakugou places a clumsy kiss on your cheek, where your tears have dried, and you want to hate him. for what he may be. for how soft he feels, as the water sloshes out onto the floor with every slow grind of his hips.

you want him to fuck you until the ringing is finally gone from your ears — but instead he's careful like he wants this to last, and it only cements something deep in your weary chest, something you might never get out.

his tongue drags across your lower lip until you open your mouth for him and he kisses you deep and messy and wet, so that a thin line of saliva connects you two when he pulls back, and the sight has his hips snapping a little harder. he watches you so intently, hooked on the drop of your mouth, when you tilt your head back to gasp at the ceiling.

"fuck," he hisses again, leaning in to lick a hot stripe up your throat. "y-y'r so—"

you want him to shut up and stop making your heart thunder in your ears, so you press your lips back to his, even if the two of you are just gasping and groaning into one another. there's never been enough time or privacy for anything sentimental and everything between you and shinsou has been quick and wordless, something the two of you hardly acknowledge outside of the moments you need one another.

but this is entirely unfamilair; you can feel yourself growing impatient, a hot desire coiling at the base of your spine as you slip down a little more against the ceramic, to angle your hips up so he can fuck into you hard enough to bring new tears to your eyes. your fingers scrape against the bottom of the tub and he squeezes his eye shut, muffling a long moan into the skin of his shoulder when you clench around him.

his cheeks are warm, you realize, red in the crappy light filtering through the foggy window. flushed, burning with all his blood, and you reach a wet hand up to trace his face, just as he had yours. the action makes him slow, and he angles his head into your palm like a cat, nosing at your dripping fingertips until a small laugh huffs from your nose. bakugou watches you quietly, though a smile ghosts the edge of his lips.

the first one of his you've ever seen.

gently, you slip your fingers under the strap of his eye-patch and he tilts his head so you can pull it loose and —

you don't know what you're expecting: another neon bulb, just like the aqua glow that had tracked you in the dark or maybe a dim light, powered by batteries and wires and his mechanical heart; instead you just find an eye, human and destroyed. cloudy, like the sun behind a post-war haze.

"c'mere," you murmur to him, slipping your ankles up to his shoulders as he thrusts into you shallowly once, stuttering through his breath as he sinks all the way in. you wait until his shoulders are trembling, until you're barely able to speak with the whine in your voice. "i'll—go with you—to kamino."

bakugou nods once, eye so full of something warm and soft and human before he kisses you, punctuating each press of his lips with a harsh rut of his hips. he moves his hand to the edge of the tub, gripping the ceramic so tightly that it creaks before his pace increases, as he drives you closer and closer to the end. one you welcome.

you wrap an arm around his neck and dig your nails into his skin and whisper into his ear, encouraging him; "fuck, yes, katsuki, right—oh—" and he shudders, hardly able to steady himself through your orgasm before his own hits him, has him pulling out late to cum on your half-submerged stomach.

he groans lightly and slumps down onto you, devolving into another lazy, messy kiss as his fingers tangle into your hair. lips sliding against your own, just because, like he can't get enough of it.

bright, aware, alive, he quietly murmurs into the heavy, damp space between you, "don't abandon me."

and you fear that you couldn't even if you tried.

two days trail by in charged silence.

eyes are open at all times in the house, ears, too, as the quite invites itself into every nook and cranny. at times you catch even bakugou holding his breath, muting his still lingering wheeze; it's not getting any better, and you hate to think of what that means, but it's not getting any worse, either, and so you take that for what it is.

he becomes — touchy, obviously so. always feeling you in some way; fingers trailing up the inside of your arm or tucking strays behind your ear, thumbing your lobe gently, as if he's afraid to worsen the damage you're still healing from. you share the sleeping bag and he sleeps with his nose in your hair, breath against the nape of your neck.

sometimes he lays with his head on your chest, just listening to the drum of your heart.

hitoshi doesn't speak to you. hardly looks, with bakugou by your side — and he always is. you can't tell if he's still angry or if it's dissolved into something worse; a wound eating up his skin. the silence from him makes you feel guilty, as if there are sides now and you've picked the wrong one. betrayed him somehow.

the remorse never lasts long though, not when bakugou is following close behind you to the barn out back, sighing into your mouth and hugging your body to his, tight, like he wants to breathe through you.

he's very touchy. eager, as if this is something he hasn't had before.

you suppose you haven't either. not like this.

you're coming out of (what used to be) the kitchen when you see it. brushing tangles out of your hair with your fingers, distracted by the shape of his silhouette in the front of the window.

he's peeking through the boards, always on high alert as aizawa has instructed him to be. his back is to you and you count the crescents you've left on his skin, frowning at how easily they disappear into the constellation of his scars.

now that his head wrappings have come off, you can see the new growth of his hair, what was singed off in the blast he's still never told you about. he's a little damp, just like you, fresh from the bath neither of you really took, and his skin looks extra pink and tender, soft.

and there is a little gray symbol on his scalp, faint and ruined, trying to survive among his wreckage.

maybe you gasp and that's why he turns around; you don't know because you still have a hard time hearing and you disconnect completely from your body, ears ringing like they did only nights ago.

he's without his eyepatch. it's still sitting on the counter, where he tossed it before slipping into the water, between your legs as his mouth found yours. insistent. hungry. like he knew what that even meant.

you don't say anything at first. don't even move. and you watch the recognition come to life in his eye, as his hand slowly goes to the back of his head.

carefully, he says, "it's not what it looks like."

when you don't respond, he takes a step toward you, coming up short when you retreat; a marionette of his movements. whatever is wired in him to display pain does, finally.

bakugou sighs, squeezing his eyes shut before trying again. "i'm not—"

"liar."

his expression falters. a glitch, you tell yourself.

"you're a liar." it's such a simple truth and yet it cuts so deep, all your trust blown to bits as he becomes exactly what you feared he would.

a goddamn infiltrator. another fucking hunk of tin.

you feel sick, suddenly, swollen with regret as your stomach churns. the todoroki corporation must be making them differently, attempting to blend them into what remains of the human population by weaving veins and replicating tissue and sculpting muscle and —

"it's not what you think."

what even spills out of him, when he cums? you've never thought to look before, too distracted by the addicting press of his lips, how he strokes your tongue with his own as if he could never get tired of it. there are only so many places you can find to yourselves; the barn is dark and he wipes your skin off with his own shirt; the bathtub is half-full, sometimes murky from the dirt that the water washes away.

"don't—listen, 'm not like them. it's not like that."

he must be programmed that way to protect himself. to lie, to deflect. all the gentle touching is another line of code they've perfected, meant to leave you thinking of nothing else except for how he feels inside of you.

and you fell right for it. lesson learned.

it's not a little flame that identifies him, like the rest of the 'droids, but a small, cartoon bomb. lit, ready to explode.

aizawa keeps a loaded handgun underneath his pillow, and you lunge for it just as he dives for you.

you hit the floor hard, but so does he, and he's damaged, rusted, and you're able to scoot yourself far away from him, smooth material of the sleeping bag hurrying you along.

bakugou — or whatever he is. it is — only rises up on his knees, arm raised in surrender. just like before. just like the last one.

the second he — it — opens its mouth, you're already screaming, furious.

"fuck you!" the safety clicks; even you hear the echo of it, in the silence of the house.

"no, listen," it begs, alarm and panic and fear generating across its face. sickening, how real it seems. "i need your—"

you bark out a laugh, and it's because your cheeks swell with it that you realize they're wet and that your nose is dripping. "what, my help? digging all our graves, or do you even do that? do you even know what that—"

you choke, suddenly, voice breaking as he — it — tries to scoot closer. you should fire a warning shot or — no, you should just kill him. it.

when you shoot this gun, everyone will come running. they might have already overheard your shouting, with how quiet the property is, and you know once they do, it's over for him.

it.

"you have to believe me."

a trick, you tell yourself. meant to distract you, to take your unease away. scripted to find the softest parts of you, to poison.

sickening, how real it felt.

when you close your eyes, you go back to last night, listening to the audible breath that scratches in your ear. that vibrates against you neck, so that you can feel him, that he's there and safe and alive.

him. bakugou.

you can't look. it's hard enough to find your voice. "how long d-do we have? at least tell me that, before they get here."

"i don't know what the fuck you're talkin' about," an echo. a repeat of the lines he's learned to say to you. "because i'm not one of them, listen—"

bakugou — it — goes silent, and when you open your eyes, the barrel of a rifle is peeking in from the other room, only a breath away from his head.

hitoshi rounds him carefully, slipping around the back of him, urging you to move out of his line of sight. so he can blow him to hell, once and for all.

it.

quietly, the voice — one you know, one you've listened to — tries one final time. "please," it says, cloudy eye pinned to you, as he wears an illusionary sorrow. "don't abandon me."

hitoshi watches you carefully, waiting for you to move and —

(bakugou tucks a hair behind your ear, running the pad of his thumb gently across your browbone. just as you'd done, on the night he lay crumpled at your feet.

good to you, good to each other, in a world rigged to blow.)

you don't.

instead you drop your arms and shake your head. surrendered.

"sorry," you croak, running a hand across your face. "my ears, he—just scared me, that's all."

hitoshi doesn't retreat. if anything, his grip tightens, something flashing in his deep eyes. "don't bullshit me, not me. he's fucked and you know it—"

"you're right," you nod, bottom lip trembling as it — bakugou — watches the tears slip down over your jaw and onto your neck. "but we're leaving."

you close your eyes, blinded by the breath of light that flashes behind your lids. the image of bakugou pressing a kiss into your cheeks.

"i have to get him to kamino."

#[ bakugou ]#bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #maybe this is so cringe but human x android romance gets my fucking goat #the IMPLICATIONS the HUMANITY the ROMANCE and UNDERSTANDING #there is so much involved on such an emotional level #not saying that's what this is though 👀#who can say for sure 👀

418 notes · View notes

welcometogrouchland · 2 years ago

Note

hey bestie. are you doing okay? you seem violently unwell and hysterical 💖stay strong icon 💪💪💪

The teen witch isekai show is running my brain through a meat grinder right now

#ramblings of a lunatic #asks #thank you for the ask. i needed a check up #i just need something from disney. i need promo art. i need a poster. i need a still frame. i need a trailer. i need a tweet of only emojis #anything. fucking anything man #the amount of unwritten fic ideas in my notes app. the unfinished sketches (that i might eventually clean up into a sketch dump)#(i have requests that i forgot to post bc i only got one request for each prompt i rbd and thus once I finished the piece-#-my brain just sort of. forgot abt it. BUT I'm gonna post those together maybe with some third image. maybe another art game who knows)#i normally get my sillies out by talking to my irl friends abt it (also this is one of the first times I've had more than one friend irl-#-share an interest/fixation with me and it's been life changing holy shit. collective tism off the charts)#but we're all on Christmas break and probably not meeting up til after the new year so for now I'm just simmering #like some kind of sauce #i need to take drawing requests again soon i need some sort of outside communication with this fanbase that isn't just #lurking in the tags and breathing heavily when i see a post i like

0 notes

nymphbnny · 3 years ago

Text

blatant

MINORS DNI // +18

genre: nsfw

pairing: eren jaeger x female reader

word count: 3 k

tags/warnings: spitting, choking, slapping, praising kink, hair pulling, dirty talking, dom eren, sub reader, mirror sex, fingering, (fluff??)

synopsis: your irrepressible desire of getting a tattoo makes you run into one of your ex flings who happened to be the only tattoo artist in your area. regarding the lockdown the country was facing, he was currently working from his apartment. despite your friend's multiple warnings, you decide to shrug off the past and get inked.

➥ a.n: hey babies! i'd like to apologize if i haven't posted much lately, i've been really preoccupied with college and responsibilities. i will deliver your requests as soon as i can. enjoy <3

"It ain't worth it babe, trust me." I heard Hitch say through the phone, shuffling in the background indicating that she was cleaning her space. "Once we're done being confined you can try the tattoo artist who lives next to my door. He's very good." I rolled my eyes, my lashes already thick from the amount of mascara I applied.

"Hitch I understand your concern but you really got nothing to worry about." I chuckled and pushed my chair away from my vanity. "He seemed very cool and over it when I texted him to book my appointment. Almost as if it wasn't him." I slid my jacket on and eyed myself one last time in the mirror. Her sigh was loud enough to resonate in my ear. "You do you I guess if you need anything call me. Don't forget to show me the results." she cheered and hung up.

***

I knocked three times on his door, a weird feeling rushing through my veins. Was it anticipation? Was I that eager to see if he had changed? I shook my head adjusting the mask on my face and glimpsed at the empty road. Those streets used to be full at a time like that. The sound of his door opening reset me back to my main focus. His eyes slightly widened once he saw me, his hand still holding onto the side of his door. I furrowed my eyebrows at his peculiar expression. His eyes looked me up and down before he stepped aside, allowing me to step into the familiar apartment. His place looked pretty much the same, except for the new ps5 that was replacing his old one. The atmosphere was reeking of the smell of weed and his cologne. "I wasn't expecting you to be here, I mean what were the odds?" he chuckled closing his door and followed me to his living room.

I turned around once I felt his presence behind me, only to slightly jump from how close he was standing, his tall figure towering over me. I took a step back, my eyes never leaving his. "You're acting as if I didn't text you two days ago." I sassed crossing my arms. He huffed and reached his hand over, dipping his fingers in my mask pulling it down. "Take it off, I can't hear shit." I rolled my eyes and pulled it off. His lips upturned in a small smile before uttering in a low voice: "As pretty as ever." I could feel the butterflies in my stomach go crazy. He always found his way around words. He stepped closer again, this time lifting my chin up with his index finger. "Now say it again."

"What I was saying is that I texted you two days ago to book my appointment." the whole time I was talking he was staring at my lips, his brushing against their corner. "Armin takes care of my Instagram. He must have been the one who replied to your message. You really I wouldn't have teased you if I was the one who replied to you?" he teased and pulled away from me. "I was too busy doing someone anyway, now, where do you want to get inked?" Eren asked taking his shirt off to reveal his old tattoos and some new ones that were resting on his chest and ribs. He also got more muscular. Eren pulled his hair up in a bun, a few locks falling down his forehead and shoulders. He slid his gloves on and tapped on the mattress next to him before he sat on his chair and prepared the ink.

It always surprised me how he was able to shift personalities so quickly. One of the main reasons we never got together. I took off my jacket and threw it on the couch beside me. "My ass," I nonchalantly said unbuttoning my pants. I heard him scoff which made me cock my eyebrow at him. "You think I'm joking?" he shook his head.

"Not at all, I just find it cute how comfortable you are around me knowing we had a history together." My pants were fully off as I stood with only my panties in front of him, his gaze never leaving his gun. "Oh please, it was just a fling, too short to even call it history." I mocked before throwing my leg over the black leather then the other knowing my ass was probably in his face as I was sitting on my fourth before I lied flat on my stomach and rested my head against the soft small pillow. "I already sent you the picture," I stated. He lowly hummed, applying some cold liquid on me before speaking up again: “How’s your boyfriend doing?”

His words struck me like lightning. What was he talking about? “Eren what are you babbling about?” I inquired tilting my head to look at him. He sighed bringing his chair closer to me, my face facing his chest as he looked down at me. “The guy you were making out within Hitch’s story two days ago.” I chuckled at how dumb and oblivious he sounded which he quite didn’t like judging by the look on his face. “Do you still follow Hitch?”

“You’re changing the subject,” he pulled himself closer, his face inches from mine. “I don’t think it’s any of your business to know. I never ask you who you fuck.” I shrugged. This was getting irritating. I came here to get a tattoo and instead I’m getting interrogated about my love life. “You’re my business y/n, you know that,” he mumbled his fingers tucking the hair that fell on my face behind my ear. I scoffed, tired of hearing his gibberish, and turned my face to face the wall. “Y/n,” he scowled his fingers lacing in my hair, slightly tugging at it. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” I winced swatting his hand away, as I kicked my legs off the mattress and sat up, bending over to reach for my jeans.

“I’m so sick of you being a prick- hey!” I squealed once I felt his hands on my hips, pulling me back to sit me on his lap, his big hand flat on my stomach as the other wrapped around my throat. “Eren-“ “Shh, don’t make me make you listen to me.” he taunted, his breath heavy against my neck. I shifted in his lap, my ass going over his growing erection, a familiar feeling forming between my thighs. I wanted to yell at myself for letting him toss me around like that. I should’ve listened to Hitch. Shit… “Let go, I don’t want to get that fucking tattoo anymore, I’ll book another appointment somewhere else.” I squirmed, attempting to move away but he tightened his grip around my neck, almost making me gag for air.

“Who was the man in the story baby? He looked very fond of your lips, so did you. Was he that good of a kisser?” He trailed his lips from my neck to my ear, brushing them against my lobe. I gulped, cursing at myself for being vulnerable around him. I knew he was no good, from the moment I led my eyes on him and allowed him to my bed I knew, and yet, here I am today. “I don’t know, it was just a party,” I mumbled his index finger moving to rub my bottom lip. He hummed, clearly not satisfied with my vague answer. He let go of my throat, his hips bucking upward, my body almost falling off. I took this as my queue to get up and leave but Eren had other plans. He stood right behind me, his hands resting on the bare flesh of my ass, squeezing gently and slowly as if he was trying to feel me for the first time. “You know, you’re the only one I think about when I need to get off.” My eyes widened at his vulgar words. How could he be so disgusting and bold? Mostly, how could I be so stripped of my self-dignity to like it, how could something like that make me feel special?

“That’s why you called eh?” I challenged him raising my chin up to look at him. “You can’t just pull shit like that and expect me to be okay with it. I want to leave.” I sighed and moved past him, his hand gripping my arms and pulling me back to his chest. His hands were now cupping my cheeks, memories rushing through my brains as he silently smiled at me. “I know you want to fuck me.” and unfortunately he was indeed right. I wanted to feel him stretch my walls as he pounds himself deep within me, my name falling from his ajar lips as he fills me up with his hot cum- “And now you’re thinking about it. C’mon baby, kiss me.”

My heart was pounding in my chest and for a second I got lost in his emerald eyes. Fuck it and fuck this dumb tattoo idea. He was reading my mind, I could tell by how close he was bringing his lips to mine waiting for my next move. He knows how obedient my body and mind are when it comes to him. If I were to fuck him, I’d also have to relocate knowing that I won’t be able to control myself. “You’re taking too much time.” he seethed before forcing his lips on mine, hungrily parting mine to allow access for his tongue. It didn’t take me long to kiss him back, acknowledging the fact that I’ve been deeply craving this for a while. My fingers worked through his hair, freeing it from his tie, his black locks falling above his shoulders. He was so damn handsome fucking hell.

I could feel his smirk against my lips when I trailed my hands across his toned chest, slowly dragging them down to feel his abs. I traveled them back up to squeeze his broad shoulders. Every atom of me missed feeling him like that. “You sure as hell switched sides real fast.” he teased, his hands wrapping underneath my thighs to lift me up and walked to his bedroom. LED lights were added to his wall along with a new bed that was much bigger than the one I got used to. He dropped me onto his mattress, my body slightly bouncing as I brought myself back, watching crawl over me, his lips taking mine between his again then biting on my bottom lip. His hair was caressing my cheeks as he hovered over me, one of his hands rubbing my thigh and gently smacking it as the other held onto the headboard, his bicep flexing at the stretch.

His hand ran up my abdomen to my chest, slipping under my Metallica shirt, his face turned in a cocky expression when the pads of his fingers directly felt my breasts, my nipples hardening at his touch. “No bra?” he raised his eyebrow, his hand now lifting my t-shirt up exposing my boobs to him. He lowered his head and began his assault on my chest, sucking biting, and licking my nipples like a newborn baby, unable to remove his head from my chest. I bucked my hips up, needing more friction. Eren must’ve gotten the message, his lips kissing their way down my panties, his teeth sinking into the fabric before pulling it down, the dark stain making him chuckle slyly. “Thought you found me repulsing,” he mumbled before slapping my clit with his middle and ring finger, making me squirm. He shook his head with a smirk, his hands wrapping underneath my thighs to pull them up, positioning my legs on his shoulders. My hips were inches up from the mattress, my throbbing cunt in full display. He smiled down at my sex, gathering some spit before coating it with it.

Eren always liked to make a scene out of everything, and that was exactly what he was doing; spitting, sucking, and even slurping at my pussy, the obscene sounds he was producing making me blush from how vulgar it was. He kept licking my slit, occasionally slipping his tongue in and out, casually adding his fingers to bring me closer to my climax. I was a squirming and panting mess but he didn’t care, he never did. He loved the way he pleasured me, it always inflated his ego in some way. “Eren… ah shit…” I gripped onto his black hair and pushed him closer to my heat, almost making him lack air. I climaxed around his fingers, his tongue licking off all the arousal that was dripping down my thighs. He gave my pussy another smack, the sensitivity of my orgasm making me yelp.

“I’m not done with you yet, all fourth baby come on,” he pulled away before taking off his bottoms along with his brief, his cock standing hard and veiny. Fucking hell I missed it. He gave it a few pumps, enjoying the way I was drooling over his dick, my eyes unable to look elsewhere. Was I tripping or did he get bigger? “Come on doll, face the mirror-like the good girl you are, my good girl,” I moved my body until I was facing his mirror, my back arching until I was prepped on my hands and knees, aching to feel him. I wiggled my ass back once I saw his reflection behind me, his hand sending a harsh smack to my ass, rubbing the flesh then repeating the action. “I was going to go easy on you-“ he started, pushing his tip in, “but I can’t hold back anymore.” And with that, he rammed himself into me in one harsh thrust, my hips moving forward as I whimpered loudly.

He definitely got bigger.

I could feel my tears burning up behind my eyes as he stretched me completely, his tip already rubbing my cervix. Eren never once slowed his pace, instead, he pulled my hair to adjust my arch, forcing me to maintain eye contact with him as he smirked at me from the mirror. He threw his head back, his mouth agape as he groaned, my cunt clenching tightly around him. “Shit still got the best cunt.” He chuckled darkly, his words degrading me to the fullest, my self-esteem currently nonexistent. “Oh fuck, Eren…” I moaned out, my tears running down my cheeks from how good it felt. “It’s so good it hurts…” I whined throwing my ass back, meeting his thrusts. His hand snacked around my neck, bringing my body back to collide with his chest, the position making my swollen pussy squeeze his cock even more. He kissed down my neck, casually biting and sucking. “I fucking missed you, fuck-“ he groaned turning my face with his hand, his lips capturing mine in a lustful kiss, his tongue wasting no time to penetrate my mouth.

I could feel my second orgasm approaching, my knees getting weaker, and my ability to focus fading away. Eren must have noticed, his hand letting go of me before flipping me around to hover over me, his dick never once leaving my heat as he relentlessly kept fucking me. I wrapped my legs around him, his face buried in my neck as I came around him, chanting his name in his ear. “Gonna make you swallow every single drop.” he breathed, his cock pulling out of me before he straddled my face, tapping his tip on my mouth. I instantly stuck my tongue out, his hand jerking himself off, ropes of cum shooting in my mouth. Doing as told, he smirked down at me before bending down, kissing my lips one more time then got out of bed. I sat up, reaching over to the box of tissues that was on his nightstand, and cleaned myself, Eren doing the same. I toyed with my fingers before finally getting out of bed and gathered my stuff, wanting to leave as fast as I could.

“Yo, what do you think you’re doing?” He questioned cocking his eyebrow, not fond of my decision to leave his apartment. His sweats were back on along with a new hoodie he picked up from his closet. “Home?” I sassed pulling down my shirt. “It’s dark outside and no one is out there, you’re not going out alone.” he scowled furrowing his eyebrows. I chuckled, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Do me a favor and skip the caring act. Been there done that, don’t recommend.” I mocked turning on my heels, only to be beckoned closer to him, his hand yanking me with his to his bed.

I collapsed on his chest, Eren was quick to pull his blanket over us, making it impossible for me to move. He wrapped his arms tightly around me and rested his chin on my head. “Eren what is going on with you-“ “I don’t want to leave you ever again. I’m not letting you go.” He gripped me tighter, my face sinking into the soft fabric of his hoodie. “Stay, please.” I should have left, I should have refused and denied him, but I couldn’t, however, a chime coming from his phone made me tilt my head to scan his lock-screen.

agatha

r u still comin’ over tomorrow?

“You fucker,” I smacked his chest and pulled myself away from him. “You are still the same asshole. It was just the weed doing the talking for you.” I finally got off his bed and gathered my stuff again, making my way to his door. “Yo, yo,” his footsteps were fast behind me as he wrapped his arm around my waist, stopping me from turning the knob. “I said leave me alone-“

“Agatha is my cousin Jesus Christ stop moving around.” He steadied me, both hands on my hips. “Why did you act like that calm down.” I looked up at him, only to find a sincere expression on his face. Something in me told me to leave, to turn my back, and to never come back, however, I did quite the opposite and allowed myself to get tangled up in his arms, again and again, and again.

4K notes · View notes

c-is-for-circinate · 2 years ago

Text

On one hand, there's definitely more of this to be written, and possibly even more of this scene.

On the other hand, posting now means it gets posted at all, and I also happen to think that the place where it ends is very, very funny.

In short: Dustin is a smart kid with a lot of good ideas. Unfortunately, he knows this about himself, which is also his greatest flaw. Set somewhere between Stranger Things S3 and S4.

---

Dustin shows up at Family Video on a Wednesday night. Steve never works Wednesday nights -- slow enough that Keith can spare him, late enough in the week that most girls are actually wiling to consider it a date night. He's seeing the second Nightmare on Elm Street movie, which Dustin is maybe a little annoyed about because it's only been out for a week and the Party needs Steve to get them into R-rated movies, he knows that. But Steve just said something about horror movies being essential opportunities for girls to cuddle in close so you can protect them, and completely ignored Dustin's totally reasonable comments about how Steve is the one to freak out at jumpscares most of the time when he watches horror movies with them, and went anyway.

Which is so stupid, because there's literally nothing real to protect a girl from in a horror movie. Steve has literally protected Robin from actual Soviet torture, with his actual face. Dustin saw him through that concussion! Dustin knows perfectly well that Steve probably drew the Russians' attention on purpose the whole time he and Robin were in there!

And somehow, he and Robin still aren't dating. If that isn't enough, then Dustin really doesn't see how putting an arm around a girl to save her from Freddy Krueger is going to do any better.

So Dustin bikes his way to Family Video, in the dark because it's November in Indiana, and when he gets there he folds his arms on the counter and gives Robin his brightest, most patient smile. She takes one look at him and rolls her eyes.

"He's not here right now," she informs him. "So if you want to badger him into renting you an R-rated movie, you're going to have to come back tomorrow, I'm not your babysitter and I'm not doing it."

Dustin just keeps grinning at her. Broadly.

"You know, Robin, we never talk," he says. Robin groans.

"Oh god, what now?" she asks. "And get off the counter, Keith's in the back and if he sees you he'll throw a fit."

"Keith is taking a nap back there and we both know it," Dustin scoffs. As if he doesn't know Keith's habits. "He only ever comes out of the back when Steve's working because he likes to make Steve do menial tasks while Keith hits on the hot girls that he thinks come in here because Steve's working."

"Fine, whatever, it's creepy that you know that," Robin sighs. "What do you want?"

"So I've been talking to Steve," Dustin says. "You know, our friend Steve. Pretty face, good hair, excellent reviews on the kissing front."

"Ew," says Robin. "Ew, no, you're twelve, don't talk about Steve kissing. Don't talk about Steve kissing at all!"

"Excuse me, one, I'm fourteen years old, I am in high school, where I just saw you earlier today, so it's not like you're that much older than me," Dustin says. "Two, if we don't talk about kissing Steve, how are we going to get you two over this weird little speedbump you're having where you're somehow not dating yet?"

Robin groans again. It's louder this time, and she also tips her head back to the sky while she does it. Dustin waits patiently.

"I'm not going to date Steve," she says. "Please stop bugging him about this, it's not going to happen. I don't want to talk about it, he doesn't want to talk about it, can you please just let this goooooo." She groans the last word, drawing it out like Mike when his mom tries to make him clean his room.

"Not until I see you two happy," Dustin says firmly, unmoved thanks to many years of being friends with Mike. "Steve is one of my best friends, and not only are you his other best friend, we've been through the heat of battle together, which means you're my friend too. I want both of you to be happy, and clearly there's nothing you like more than spending time together--"

"Yeah, because we're friends, Dustin, that's what friends do," she says, but Dustin has proof.

"Friends don't have to get jobs working at the same retail store even after their old one burned down," he begins.

"We're good coworkers and otherwise he'd have to break in a whole new set of coworkers who haven't had to deal with Dustin Henderson already for months," she says.

"You work well together, you compliment each other, you already get along with his other friends..."

"Not sure if 'getting along' is the right phrase right now," Robin mutters. Dustin ignores her.

"He's always giving you rides places, he's literally left a date to give you rides on multiple occasions --"

"Like he doesn't do the same for you!"

"Robin," Dustin says pityingly. "Leaving a date? When it's not the end of the world?" It's so obvious how much Steve likes her. Dustin's never seen him act like this with anybody since Nancy. Not that it's exactly the same as Steve used to act with Nancy, but clearly that's just because he's had time to grow and mature, and Robin's better than Nancy for him anyway. She keeps him from stressing out too much. "Driving you to school every morning even though he couldn't even get there on time most days when he was a student himself?"

"I don't have a license!"

"You really don't have to worry about it," Dustin says. "I happen to know for a fact that Steve would date you in an instant if you said yes."

Well. A strongly-supported scientific theory, anyway, which is basically the same thing. Anyway, it should be enough to get Robin spilling whatever self-doubt she's bottling up -- she's too nerdy, Steve only dates slutty cheerleader girls, whatever -- so Dustin can explain to her all the ways she's wrong, and they'll finally be taken care of.

"And I happen to know for a fact that he wouldn't, so how about you take the word of the person he's actually not dating and drop it?" Robin demands. She sounds on the verge of actually upset with him.

"But why?" Dustin demands right back. Which is really the crux of it, isn't it? Dustin has been asking the world why at every turn for fourteen solid years, and he has never let it back down without a fight.

"Steve likes you! You're at least as pretty as all those other girls, and it can't just be that you don't think you're cool enough for him, because lest we forget, the last time he was actually in love instead of just being kind of easy for any girl to look his way twice was with Nancy Wheeler, who is by definition a nerd!" Dustin lays his most damning evidence out rapid-fire, taking down Robin's arguments even if she hasn't made them yet. "He's a hot guy! He's kind of a catch! You're a cool girl! You actually like him back! What is the problem here!"

"Not every guy likes every girl just because they're a girl!" Robin fires back at him. "Not every girl is attracted to every guy! And you know, the fact that you think that is insulting and reductive, when some guys and girls don't even like girls or guys at all, and what would Suzie think, Dustin? What would Suzie think if she heard that you think every guy should date every girl he's friends with just because he's friends with her?"

"First of all, Suzie thinks you and Steve are destined to live happily ever after once he saves you in another bold act of heroism," Dustin informs her. Obviously. "Second of all, what do you mean, some guys don't like girls and girls don't like guys?"

And then Robin gets a look on her face. Dustin might have let it go, if Robin hadn't gotten that look on her face.

It's a split second of sheer panic. Robin ducks away from him, turns back to the Family Video checkout computer like she's trying to be casual, but her hands are anxious, picking up a stack of videos just to put them down, and she's not looking at him, and Dustin saw it. Dustin saw.

"It's just a thing, that happens sometimes, right?" Robin asks. "You can't just assume you know what somebody wants, that just because two people are both attractive they're going to want each other. You don't want to date Max, right?"

"Actually, yeah, I had a crush on Max when we first met, and I reconciled myself to her choice of Lucas in favor of slightly strained friendship until I discovered the love of my life in Suzie," Dustin informed her. "Much like Steve reconciled himself to Nancy's choice of Jonathan, until he met you and suddenly started spending all of his time with you. And anyway that's not what you said, you said that some guys don't like girls at all, which sounds like you're talking about gay people, which doesn't even..." Except that Dustin's thoughts are starting to catch up with his words, and he's trailing off, because. Because holy shit.

Steve dates so many girls. So many! He's constantly hitting on them and striking out, almost like he's just going through the motions, like he's not even trying except for appearances' sake. Even when he goes on actual dates they never last more than once or twice. And he's been doing it like that since high school, exactly like that. He's blown off dates to give Robin rides places. He's blown off dates to give Dustin rides places. He once blew off a date to sit in Mike Wheeler's basement and doze off on the couch while the Party spent three hours building D&D characters for their first-ever Hellfire Club campaign.

And Nancy? Nancy Wheeler, who Steve was totally in love with, except that according to Mike they started having problems basically as soon as the very first demogorgon fight was over and didn't stop for the next full year? Nancy who left him for Jonathan, who Steve is still friends with. Steve and Jonathan are better friends now than they were before he and Nancy broke up. Or at least they were before the Byers left for California, anyway, and that's basically the same thing, Jonathan was probably Steve's best friend actually his own age before he met Robin which was really sad, actually, but--

Steve getting super close with Robin after getting dosed with Russian drugs that were meant to make them tell the truth! Robin and Steve acting like they knew a secret that they couldn't tell anybody else or else!! Robin swearing up and down to the ends of the earth that she knows Steve doesn't want to date her for a mysterious reason she can't and won't explain!!!

"What, no, who said anything about gay people?" Robin is babbling, collecting more and more videos in her hands like a nervous D&D player who thinks hoarding dice is going to save them from a red dragon, but Dustin ignores her. "I just meant that attraction is complicated, and--"

"Holy shit," Dustin breathes. "Holy shit, is Steve Harrington gay?"

Robin drops the tapes.

#C writes stuff #Stranger Things #and then Dustin proceeds to make SO many terrible plans #just so many #poor Robin #POOR STEVE

299 notes · View notes