Tumgik
#sometimes you will be uncomfortable and that's OKAY
simpjaes · 1 day
Note
heeseung taking out all his anger during sex drabble pls ❤️
Tumblr media
MDNI.
this was originally written for jeno on my other blog but it fits so well [i rewrote it/reworded a lot of things. it's much better now lol] wc: 2.3k
tags: Heeseung hate fucks reader when he has a bad day, unprepped penetration, reader basically loses her ability to feel anything other than his cock lmao (cock drunk)
Tumblr media
It doesn't always hurt when Heeseung has his hands on you. Really, most of the time it’s blissful. There were those nights though, when he would be rough, careless, and borderline worrisome with you. Oftentimes humiliating you in the way you can barely even mutter his name, weak and quivering under him. 
It doesn’t happen happen, but when it does, you know how much you always end up…kind of loving it.
Really, even if in the moment you’re in pain, sometimes even scared, you had to tell him after the fact to keep doing it. That it’s okay. That you fucking love it. 
Naturally, tonight is another one of those nights. 
Heeseung, first, had you against the counter with his strong arms pressing you back until your head hit the cabinets. You were, essentially, pinned there between his frustrated eyes and the counter top with him slotting himself between your legs. Not a single word is said to you, not a single explanation, and arguably, you know better than to ask. 
You already know. He’s had a bad day.
So, you just let him. Feeling his lips go from a grimace to biting and nipping against your skin. You can only imagine how bad his day went for him to be so silent, still, you let him do as he pleases because you don’t exactly want to make it worse for him. If anything, you’re fine with being an outlet. You get plenty out of this too, after all.
And there is a part of him that knows he’s doing this with you rather than at you, based on your previous pleads to be his outlet. He’s forever in love with the fact that you let him be this rough, with his bruising grip and harsh teeth. There’s nothing more in this world he could need to unwind aside from you and you alone. Solely because you let him.
When he drags you to the bedroom without a word, you simply let him. Internally bubbling with all sort of emotions. Fear, excitement, concern, arousal. He appears to be more angry tonight though, solely because his fingers gripping your wrist hurts much more than usual. You can feel your skin under them, pulling and stretching under his grip as he takes you to where he wants you. 
And yet again, like on many nights like these, he doesn’t offer a single bit of foreplay. He does little more than getting his cock out with that same frustrated face, flicking his head down as if he has an expectation of you. That, he does. You know it very well, and you do as you’re directed. Rolling your pajamas down your leg and easily spreading your legs and pussy for him. 
Unprepped, still mostly dry. You know it’s going to hurt, and he knows it’s going to hurt too. The understanding is mutual but the act is much needed on more ends than just Heeseung’s. 
The drag of his immediate, forced, plunge is uncomfortable for both of you, but something about the feeling of getting you wet while he’s inside of you is something that grounds Heeseung beyond belief. The feeling pulls him out of his red thoughts and turns them a shade darker. 
It’s always you who can distract him. 
And, of course, he only goes faster and harder at that point, chasing the moment for when you’ll slick up for him nice and wet. Gripping onto your body in such a harsh way that all you can do for him is whimper and cry. Your eyes always force the tears, especially when he hasn’t kissed you yet. But even if he had kissed you, you’d be unable to kiss him back at this point. Not until the discomfort subsides anyway.
Thankfully, and like always, it doesn’t take long for your body to want it. What was once the sound of dry and slapping skin turns to that of wet, squelching sounds as you drip out and around him. The drag hurts no more, and by this point you need him to go harder, faster, fucking deeper. After all, if he’s going to hate-fuck you when you’re not even the point of his anger, if he’s not even going to kiss you, he better find a way to make it hurt more. 
Heeseung does come back to himself when he feels the slide though, loving that he can come home from his awful day and have you present yourself in such a way for him. He loves you more than anything, for so many fucking reasons that don’t include that, but still. This is what you do for him, and it brings his softness back tenfold as he reaches out for your face, eyes softening for you in concern. 
Fuck, he swears he learns something new about you every day too. After all the years the two of you have been together, he’s shocked when you turn your face away from him. He’s a bit defeated at the act, partially wondering if he’s really pushed it too far in terms of using you. It’s not often he doesn’t at least give you some praise as he does this, but really, he was so, so upset. His brain just….he needed this before saying anything. 
And so, at that motion of you turning your face away from him and his softer hands, he only slams his hips harder. He tips himself back a bit now, using one hand to tug at your clit as if it’s a form of retaliation from your rejection.
It would be retaliation anyway, but Heeseung knows well enough how much you love to hurt. You love when he tugs and pinches against your pretty, swollen clit. The sharp pains always make you cry in a way that fucks your brain up. As if you don’t know whether to plead for him to stop or to ask for more. 
Still, he’s frustrated that you won’t let him love on you now that he’s grounded himself a bit. His whole fucking day has been a disaster, and now you’re pulling away? Not making eye contact? Not letting him kiss you?
“Baby, look at me.” He says, now nearly demanding that you do as he says. 
And, of course, you do. 
“You want it to hurt more?” He continues when you still shift your eyes away from him, but he’s a bit amused in the way you nod to him. So out of it for him that he feels almost silly for being upset at you in the first place. 
“Yeah?” He nods with a half chuckle, slowing his hips but now driving in with intent and harsh plunges. “Just like that?” 
You yelp as you urge him with a nod, loving the sear and feeling of your boyfriend tearing you open. And while you know he’s being rough, he’s not quite giving you his all now that he’s softened up.
You want him to give it his ass by this point now, if the sound of your pussy is anything to go by. You want him to fucking hurt you, to the point you can’t moan, to the point you can’t breathe. 
“More,” You manage to get out for him in another yelped whimper. “You’re being soft.”
“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation with his hand reaching for you cheek again, burying his leaking cock in so deep, so painfully deep. “Look at me.”
You do, showing him your blown out pupils and mess of hair on top of you head. You nod frantically, wanting him to push further than he ever has. Wondering if he’ll ever surpass his own limit for you. 
It goes like this for a while longer than usual. More pain, more pleasure, and your heart rate higher than you thought possible. 
He’s using you so well and you couldn’t be more proud to be this for him. An outlet, his girlfriend, his sex doll. And fuck, he bites, he bruises, he drags his hips so painfully into you that you feel like you genuinely could be split in half at any moment if he truly wanted to. 
So full, you can feel it so deeply inside of you that all you can do is cry.
You lose yourself to that feeling, basking in the sensation of your walls clenching every inch of him and moaning out with each second that passes. To the point your throat is sore and your eyes are swollen from the tears. 
He pulls against your hair now, holding his hips in place and burying himself just as deep as before inside of you. Instantly, you see tunnel vision now. Like you could burst, both physically and emotionally, all for him. 
Him, him, him. 
And he only holds himself like that to the point that you can feel your cervix bruise. He only pushes harder now, trying to inch in more of his cock despite having no more to give. He lifts your leg over his shoulder just to get a different angle at the failure, only to find a way to make you feel him deeper than you thought was possible. 
God, it hurts so good and he loves it. Your pained face paired with the image of your pussy taking the entirety of him. You’re everything to him. 
And now? His grunts are that of focus rather than pleasure. He wants to ruin you, he is trying to ruin you to the fucking core just to see if you’ll unravel in a new sort of way. 
It’s the fact that he’s talking to you through it too. You can’t make out a single word though, tunnel vision is tunnel hearing, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his cock bruising the deepest part of you. Being torn apart by the man you love is…something you’ll never forget. 
And when you do manage to catch a smirk on his face before his hips start sliding back and forth again, you realize he loves this as much as you do. Of course he does, who wouldn’t love a girl willing to let her man surpass his own limits? 
Out of respect, no less. 
“Are you with me?” His voice echoes through your eyes, and while he’s fully aware that you’re absolutely fucking gone with the way he’s fucking you right now, he takes your distant nod as confirmation. 
Despite how far aware he seems in your head, you know that every sensation your body is feeling right now is because of him. You can’t help the quivering. The uncontrollable shaking.
It feels so good, to the point you are nearly numb to everything else around you. The swollen feeling of your body being abused is too, too fucking good. You can’t even comprehend that he’s kissing against your slack mouth, but you do your best to kiss him back. 
Goddamn does he love the way you drool all over yourself and him. Good. Fucking good girl. 
“Try again,” He chuckles against your tongue, waiting, just to see if you can manage to kiss him properly. Though he suspects you’re completely lost in your head right now. 
After all, he’s giving you exactly what you asked for. 
And all you can do in return is blink up at him with a dazed smile. Your body is moving up with each of his thrusts just to make it that much more painful, and his lips continue to lay against yours. He’s truly waiting for you to kiss him back like you have the ability to do it. Like you can truly think of anything else rather than what he’s doing between your legs. 
Hah. 
“You’re so gone, baby.” He smiles in a breath at your failure to do anything more than leave your mouth open for him. He’s fucking floored by how much you love this, and how you truly embrace the inability to think at this moment. “You’re loving this, hm?”
You can’t even not for him this time, feeling pangs of pain and pleasure shoot through your body with each sharp thrust. 
“Try again, pretty girl.” He encourages you when he licks against your bottom lip again, gripping your hair with his other hand and craning your neck back. 
”You can do it, come on.” He adds, biting against your neck and licking the mark. 
You once again, can’t even try, because he accentuates each word with a drag of his pulsing cock and a sharp pressure against your clit with his abdomen. So, you stop trying, falling into the depths of the sensations and allowing yourself to lose your grasp on reality entirely. 
Fucking hell, he loves it. The way you come undone, the way your entire body goes clack before shaking uncontrollably with a wet spurt of your pussy trying to push him out. He can feel you clench around him, your body acting on instinct to push, push, push, the pleasure out and all over him. 
He has to hold back his own impressed moan at the way he stays buried into you as you squirt around him with that pretty, pained look on your face. 
“Fuck, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grunts out, slowing his pace to feel you clench around him fully, enough to where he needs to brace himself to pull out slightly just to shove his cock right back into that quivering mess. “So out of it too, god–” He moans now, leaning back just to look down fully. Noting how you’ve left a mess all over him. 
And you still continue to quiver, your pussy still clenches and grips him. All the way until you’re slack, still clenching, and he’s now pumping his cum into you with such a relieved moan that it almost brings you back to reality. 
By the time he’s done shaking on top of you, out of breath, and pulling out, your ears are ringing save for his soft voice. 
“Baby?” You hear him say as he dips down beside your head. “I got you.” 
You manage to nod to him and smile in a drunken kind of daze as he lifts you from the bed for the proper clean up from a boyfriend who very much loves you. 
433 notes · View notes
blue-jisungs · 2 days
Note
hi omg I loved all ur “u sleep with plushies” for each svt unit, may I req a hhu ver ??? all of the other units were so cute😭💗
you still sleep with plushies ♡
author's note. thank you hehe!!! it was so fun to do, sorry it took so long tho:(
vcu ver && perf ver
Tumblr media
┆彡 SEUNGCHEOL [ 승철 ]
he never considered it a problem?
like he’s been at your place a couple of times and noticed the plushies, thinking it’s just really cute :(
i mean come on, some of his members heave weirder habits (like sleeping with their eyes open…)
so when you asked him if that bothers him, seungcheol was offended that you even thought!!! about it!!!
however . . .
when he does sleep at your place, you two all cuddled up and comfy
and then… he wakes up only to see your back
okay, it happens… maybe you were uncomfortable
BUT THEN HE SEES YOU’RE CLUTCHING A TEDDY TO YOUR CHEST!!! INSTEAD OF HIM!!
he’s so sulky, good luck with that …..
you explain that it’s just your comfort plushie and that you cuddled it out of habit :(
so cheol insists that he can be way better than it and begs you to let him stay one more night to prove his point ☝️
and he kinda does, he becomes your new giant, warm and loving teddy bear <3
┆彡 WONWOO [ 원우 ]
wonwoo noticed before you could tell him
well, you really thought you were slick when you didn’t bother hiding them because you hoped he’d think they’re there for the aesthetics
or when you two went shopping and your eyes widened upon seeing a cute plushie:(
yeah, he knows
but he thinks it’s really cute, especially if you have that one specific plushie ever since you could remember and you always sleep with it
so not to make a fool out of yourself in front of his friends, you don’t take it with you when you go on a trip with them
after whole day of fun, it’s time to sleep in the cabin
and wonwoo notices that you’re constantly squirming around, unable to fall sleep
and you confess that it’s because you didn’t bring your plushie:(
so he offers to be the plushie for the night, reassuring you that he doesn’t mind and you can cuddle him as much you wanna
and that may have been a risky decision because ever since…… well, he is one of your plushies now ^__^
┆彡 MINGYU [ 민규 ]
you decided to invite your boyfriend over and share a secret with him
mentally, you got ready to get teased about it
but you when mingyu entered your bedroom he didn’t even notice the plushies 🧍‍♀️
he was just happy that u let him in your personal space and looked around your room with hearts in his eyes, like a kid in a candy store
"so you don’t mind the plushies?" you mumbled, plopping down on your bed and holding one for emotional support
"the pl– oh? ah, baby…" he groaned and swore his knees got weak; you’re just too cute for his own good
he doesn’t mind, at all - which you’re kinda surprised but happy
he does get pouty if you cuddle a plushie to sleep instead of him >:T
sometimes will spray his cologne on your (or his) favorite one so you could feel like he’s here when he’s out having schedules ☹️
might steal a one or two to his apartment, esp puppy ones 💔
┆彡 VERNON [ 버논 ]
i mean we all know nonnie, he’s really chill about everything (welp, except bugs but—)
so when you were facetiming him once and you noticed your plushies are on camera, you started panicking
"yo, what is it? did something happen?" he asked, noticing something’s wrong
"yeah… no… well…" you stuttered, not sure how to answer "did you see that?"
"what? that big spider behind you?" he stuttered and soon after laughed upon seeing your scared face "sorry, it was a bad joke… hey, don’t get sulky…"
"i meant my plushies…" you mumbled and pulled one closer
"oh them? yeah, and? you always have them. say hi to gerard by the way" vernon nodded
what.
there’s no gerard in your collection but later on you realised he meant (plushie name)
like really,, he doesn’t care in a way that – he doesn’t mind you having them
he does care about them, though :(
will put a blanket on them if he thinks they’ll get cold or carefully reads all the corners of the internet before putting them into a washing machine:(
masterlist <3
taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu ,, @nonononranghaee
541 notes · View notes
notmyneighbor · 16 hours
Text
Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman and Female Reader
Finale
Word Count ~ 3.3k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ fluff and smut, pregnancy
Also available on AO3
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
taglist ~ @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific @yoongiwantsme @that-0ne-simp @kaislashes @charli33-b33 @finalitgirl @kawaiichookie @vexillum-moeru @blackcurrant28 @r4yyyyy @dazedin2d @mrsspector-grant
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The true name of your doppelgänger is crooned into your ear.
A sound that is strangely soothing, syllables slipping like water in a brook, a gentle rush of water.
You attempt to replicate the sound and of course it doesn’t come out right. He’d warned you of this. The human tongue is incapable of replicating the foreign language.
“Why do you have such an easy time learning ours and we can’t learn yours?”
He’s gone back to the human version of his being, the tired eyes of the milkman studying your frustrated features, his fingers stroking and smoothing away the lines creasing your brow and the corners of your mouth.
“The newness of it, maybe. Yours is a relatively young race.”
You prop your head up on your hand, dragging fingernails over your lover’s chest. “How old are you?”
“Me, or my species?”
“Both.”
He turns onto his back, nestling down in the pillows. “In Earth years….we have existed for tens of thousands of years. I’m a tenth of that.”
“You are not over a thousand years old,” you murmur in disbelief.
His eyes meet yours and he smiles softly. “You’re right, I’m not. I’m teasing. Sorry, love. More like one hundredth of that.”
“A century.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Wow.” It’s hard to reconcile the idea. Despite whatever face he wears, you’ve always thought of him as near enough your own age. “An older man, huh?”
“Something like that.” He lifts the hand you have resting on his bare chest and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Is that okay?”
“It’s a little late to ask, but yes, it’s definitely okay.” You bend to kiss his mouth. “I really wanted to learn your name.”
“I know, sweetheart.” He worries his bottom lip, considering. “What if I tried to describe what it meant instead? And we discovered a language equivalent that was similar.”
“Alright,” you agree.
The milkman’s copy pauses, considering. “In Greek mythology, there was a name for something otherworldly that was borrowed from Latin, then later used to describe a kind of afterlife. Fields of paradise. An eternal resting place of bliss for the worthy. Elysium. But that notion of otherworldly is the best way to describe it. The original term is Elysian.”
“Elysian,” you try it out. It sounds nothing like what the alien had said earlier, of course, but the idea is there. “I like it. It’s pretty sounding.”
“Well, that’s it, then.”
“Elysian,” you repeat, bending to kiss his mouth again. He smiles against your lips. “You like hearing it, huh?”
“It’s pleasant, I’ll admit.”
A sudden thought occurs to you. “How do you know about Greek mythology?” You have never seen anything that indicated the milkman read classical literature.
The doppel clears his throat, looking a little nervous. “There was a professor.”
“Oh.” Of course Francis wasn’t the first human he’d ever cloned. “Did you…take him over, too?”
“No. Just replicated. Retired. Library at home.” He squirms a little, looking uncomfortable.
“Did you…” You don’t really want to give voice to the query. You’re not even sure precisely which it is. Kill? Consume?
“Sweetheart, please don’t ask me that.”
You swallow thickly. You forget, sometimes. Caught up as you are in how he is now. Denying what he used to be.
“How long ago was that?”
“I don’t remember.”
“But you remember what you read in a book.”
The doppel sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “It was awhile ago.”
“Not who you were when you…Francis…”
“No.”
“How many? How many people have you…”
He sits up, and you straighten beside him. “I don’t want to talk about this. It’s not who I am anymore. What I am. You know that.”
“I know. I just…” Your voice trails off again.
“Listen to me, sweet girl. All that matters now to me is you. Keeping you safe. Making you happy. I love you.” He plants a kiss on your bare shoulder.
“I love you, too.”
“We should go to sleep. Work in the morning. And that damned box to deal with,” he mutters, leaning to switch the bedside lamp off.
You feel him lying down again and you snuggle next to him, your head pillowed against his chest, his arm curled around you. You’re wide awake, now. Questions spiral in your mind. “Elysian?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you ever miss your planet?”
“Maybe a little. I did. Not so much now.” His arm around you tightens.
“What was it like?”
“Very green. More of a tropical climate, I suppose you would say.”
“And you left because…”
“Food shortage.”
A brisk answer. You’re not going to ask what precisely the doppels consumed in their native location. “Have you been to any other planets?”
“One. Small. We didn’t stay long.”
Another ominous answer. Not enough to eat, perhaps? Did anyone ever properly repel the invaders? Or were they an unstoppable force, like a plague of locusts sweeping the land, consuming everything in their path, leaving nothing but desolation in their wake?
“What’s it like traveling in space?”
“So many questions tonight.” His lips press against you hair. “It’s indescribable, really. Beautiful. Vast. Daunting. Someday, I would like to show you.”
There’s a lull in the conversation as you both mull over that prospect. You had never thought much about space travel. Had no real knowledge of astronomy. But the idea of exploring the stars with this creature by your side made you curious. What would it be like, to be so far away from the only home you've ever known? You feel the gentle rise and fall as the doppelgänger’s lungs expand and deflate and hear his heartbeat, slow and steady. You try to match his rhythm. A game you haven’t played since childhood. Facing off with a friend in the schoolyard. While cuddling with a parent at home. That is what he feels like to you. Home. How fiercely you want to protect him. You squeeze his shoulder.
“What happens when you run out of members of your squadron to send here for sacrifice?” You ask quietly. A concern you’ve harbored for a long time finally given voice.
“Let’s not worry about that tonight, okay? I’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
“Ignoring it won’t make it go away.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”
“I don’t want you to be harmed, either.”
“I know, my love. Now try to sleep.”
You shut your eyes, thinking there’s no way you’ll be falling asleep anytime soon, only to find yourself proven wrong as you soon descend into slumber.
***
You awaken to darkness.
It’s early, dawn still a ways off. You reach out drowsily to find the doppelgänger sitting upright beside you in bed.
“Elysian?”
“There’s a doppel,” he says softly. “But something about it is off. I don’t…”
You’re instantly alert again, jerking upright, throwing the sheet off of you. “Where is it? Outside? On this floor?”
Had you let one in by mistake? Or was this some new intrusion?
“I’m not sure,” he replies distractedly. The weight on the mattress shifts as he rises, his face barely visible when he draws back the curtain to peer at the street below. “Not outside,” he declares. “Closer than that.”
Your pulse quickens. Inside, then.
“Wait there,” he advises. “I’ll go have a look around.”
You immediately disobey, sliding out of bed. You can’t just sit still waiting for whatever was going to happen. You pad barefoot out of the room, finding yourself in more darkness. Your fingers trail on the wall as you move forward, your feet leaving carpet and finding linoleum.
“Elysian?” You hiss, squinting, trying to detect him in the shadows.
“I told you to stay in the other room,” his voice growls from somewhere to your right. The living room. “It was gone, but now I’m sensing it again”
You bump into the couch, finally deciding it’s more of a hazard trying to find your way in the dark, invader be damned, reaching blindly until you crash into the lamp, nearly knocking it over before your fingers fumble for the switch.
Francis’ doppel paces the small apartment, even unlocking and cracking open the front door before shaking his head and shutting it again. His gaze meets yours.
“So where is it?”
He steps towards you slowly. His eyes widen. “Is it possible…”
“What?”
“Sweetheart.” He stands before you, laying a palm on your abdomen.
“I’m…”
“Carrying my baby. Our baby.” His other hand cups your cheek tenderly. “We did it, my love.”
He gathers you against him, his face burrowed into your neck. Wet. He’s crying. You’re crying, too. Weeping. Relief. Joy. A new kind of fear. Maternal instinct kicking in already.
You had to protect your unborn hybrid child.
***
There’s no sleep to be found for either of you now.
You’re cuddled on the couch, wrapped in Francis’ bathrobe, the doppelgänger’s arm curled around you protectively, waiting for the new day to begin.
“I’m afraid to make an appointment with the doctor. I should go, but…what if they find out?”
“Best not then, love. Just to be safe. You should talk to your mother. Whatever you need to be doing, what to expect…”
You nod. “We need to get married as soon as possible.”
“You’re already my wife in every way that matters, but yes, we will. Very soon.” He pauses. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I know your reasoning behind it, but I think you should stop working for the DDD. Especially since we’re moving into your house together. There’s no reason for either of us to be anywhere near here anymore. Let’s go, sweetheart. Leave this behind. Start over. Begin our life together properly.”
“Let me give a notice. Finish this week, and the next. It’s just how we do things. Allow them time to find a replacement. We still have the box to deal with,” you remind him.
“Then you’ll leave the DDD?”
“Yes, I’ll leave.”
He sighs heavily. “Thank you.”
“What time do you think it is?”
“Maybe three? I left my watch in the other room. Can’t see the clock from here,” he murmurs against your cheek. “We still have time.”
“I was thinking we should go downstairs. Tamper with the device right now before the sun even rises.” You lean back to look at your lover. “They’ll keep working on it. There’s no guarantee they won’t succeed again. Or find another means.”
“I know. But that won’t be your fight, love. That’s for someone else to worry about.”
“Aren’t you scared?”
“Yes,” he admits. “More than I ever have been. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it. Our baby is worth it.”
***
The director of the DDD requests an exit interview with you.
Really not a request, more of a requirement. You’re not entirely surprised. You didn’t think you’d escape quite that easily.
It’s been a little over a week since you and Elysian sabotaged the anti doppelgänger frequency box. Lying about the results on the survey after the allotted trial period. A temporary solution to a larger problem, but at least your doppel was safe for now.
And your baby. Your half human, half doppelgänger child nestled in your belly.
You try not to rest your hand on it as you sit before the stern faced man’s desk. Of course there is nothing visible yet, your stomach still flat, but you’d already grown accustomed to touching there. You force your hands to meet and fold together in your lap, your head bowed slightly, the very picture of meekness and subservience that seemed so favorable for women of the time.
“You’ve submitted your two weeks notice.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And the reason for that is?”
“I’m getting married. Ready to settle down, start a family.”
He grunts. You can’t tell if it’s approving or not. “People don’t often leave the DDD. Not voluntarily,” he adds.
“Yes, sir. I’m aware. It wasn’t an easy decision, but I feel it’s the right one.”
“Not going to be easy to replace you. Not if you gave two months notice, let alone two weeks,” he admits grudgingly. “The DDD thanks you for your service. I’m certain you’ll still uphold the tenets of the cause, even if you’re no longer formally employed by us.”
“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.”
The middle aged man begins to slide a document across the desk towards you after signing it and stamping it with the official seal, only to halt at the last moment, staring hard at you. Your eyes lift to meet his.
“I understand there’s a new vacancy in that residence now. Another rare occurrence.”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
“The milkman that was missing that day of your…indiscretion. Francis Moss, wasn’t it?”
“Mosses,” you correct, then wince internally.
“Yes. Him.”
You remain silent, your hand still stretched out, reaching for the paper. Your heart thuds in your chest. Please, just let me go. Please, please…
You suddenly have the document clutched tightly in your hand. He was letting you go after all. Freedom. You force yourself to walk from the room at a dignified pace, the paper carried in front of you like a shield. When you exit the office building your tense, rigid posture relaxes and you heave a sigh of relief. Another challenge overcome on the road to forever with your doppel.
***
You love coming home to your fiancé.
Seeing his delivery truck in the driveway. Soon you’ll be the one welcoming him inside every afternoon. But for now, he’s the first one to your inherited farmhouse, waiting for you on the porch he’d raced up to kiss you all those months ago, gifting you a taste of new rain and the smell of fresh petrichor.
“How did it go?” His tone is casual but you know better, seeing his white knuckled grip on the railing.
“I’m free.” You wave the letter in the air and he snatches it from your hand, hurriedly scanning the words.
“You really are,” he murmurs, looking bewildered and relieved.
“That doesn’t mean they won’t still be watching. But for now, for now…”
He smiles at you, one arm wrapping around your waist. “Should we celebrate?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Hmmm…” He hums thoughtfully, his lips brushing your ear. “Come inside with me, love.”
***
There are little details of the house that bear traces of Francis Mosses, now. The crocheted blanket rests over your couch. The portable record player has a permanent home in your bedroom. The dresser hosts a collection of your doppel’s things: a belt, cologne, some spare change, a wooden handled hairbrush. There’s a shirt that needs mending hung on the post at the end of the bed.
“I’ll fix this later.”
“Mmm hmm.” His eyes never stray from your face. You sit on the edge of the bed and he kneels in front of you, sliding each shoe off, caressing your calves. You sink a hand into his hair, bending to plant a kiss on his forehead, inhaling his scent. Notes of bergamot, the clean citrus in his cologne. Your shampoo now in his hair. Strawberry. Everything a combination of you two. Already joined in so many ways.
His hand cups one knee, his palm warm and comforting over the joint. He slides it inside, stroking under your skirt, creeping between your thighs. He nudges at the clothing that is your work attire, shoving impatiently to gain better access. You accommodate him, pushing yourself back until you’re lying horizontally across the mattress, your skirt now rucked up around your hips, the doppel’s fingers dragging your panties out of the way.
“Need to be inside you, sweetheart.”
He’s on his hands and knees above you. You work on the fly of his pants. Your haste makes you clumsy. The metal teeth of the zipper catch on the fabric of his pants. He shakes his head, laughing softly, the sound turning to a growl when he struggles in your wake. It finally gives and he lowers himself down, guiding his cock into your entrance.
You gasp and his mouth crushes yours, swallowing the sound.
His hips press yours and you’re thinking of the nearby field with its fading summer flowers. That’s where you want to be wed. Here beneath the open sky, in this sanctuary of yours. You whisper it beside his cheek and he draws back, looking at your features. “Is that what you want, love?”
“Yes.” Your rock your pelvis against him, your legs wrapping around his body. “Elysium fields with my Elysian…”
“I love you,” he breathes. He thrusts and it hits something tender inside, the aching place deep in the hollow. Your fingers tangle together. Hot inside you. Something molten in your core. You’re melting. Clinging to him. The world shatters, comes back together in little pieces. Tired eyes gazing into your own. Soft smile.
***
You’re still tangled together.
Bodies intertwined. A comforter thrown over you both to ward off the chill of the oncoming autumn night. You’re discussing possible baby names again. You like the idea of something celestial. Named for the sun or the moon or one of the countless stars above. A constellation, an outline of a portrait when they arrange themselves just so. A planet, a galaxy. Infinite possibilities.
“It reminds me of a song,” Elysian murmurs. You’ve been taking turns tickling each other. You were losing horribly but determined to get revenge, making another attack along his unprotected ribs. He remains stoic and unresponsive despite your best efforts.
“What song?”
“Hmmm…” He hums thoughtfully. “In Other Words, I believe it’s called. How does it go?”
Fly me to the moon
And let me play among the stars
Let me see what spring is like
On-a Jupiter and Mars
In other words, hold my hand
In other words, darling, kiss me
Your heart lurches. It’s the melody. The one Francis used to hum. The replicant notices your teasing fingers grow still and he stops singing abruptly.
“What’s wrong?”
“That was the song. The one Francis used to hum all the time.”
“Oh, love. I didn’t realize…”
“Of course not. It’s okay. I’m okay.” Your eyes feel a little full, tears brimming.
“I know you still love him. I wouldn’t ask you not to. That wouldn’t be fair.” He drags a thumb across each cheek, close to your lashes, collecting the salted liquid. “He’s always going to be present in some regard. But I can’t resent him. I have to love him a little bit, too. Because he brought me to you.”
“What if I’d called the DDD that day? What if…” More tears escape. You’re suddenly overwhelmed. If you’d contacted the disposal team and destroyed him, this person that has become your world, created a new life with you…This song was what had finally swayed you. Another gift from Francis.
“Sweetheart. You didn’t. You let me into the building. Into your heart. There’s nothing there to be sorry about, from your perspective anyway. If I had to choose again, I would not see you hurt, I would not want to take him from you, but love, how could I ever give you up? I can’t. I could never. You’re carrying our future. You’re my forever.”
His lips graze yours. Your fingers curl around the back of his neck, drawing him more firmly against your mouth. “Sing the rest for me. I want to know all the words.”
Fill my heart with song
And let me sing forever more
You are all I long for
All I worship and adore
In other words, please be true
In other words, I love you
“I love you.”
You’re joined again. Hips and hands and mouths.
Maybe one day in the future you will be brave enough to travel with the alien into space. Explore the wonders of the heavens with your children by your side.
For now, you are content in this bliss on Earth.
253 notes · View notes
midnightorchids · 20 hours
Note
Hello I'm literally obsessed with how you write jason todd and how you invision him I binged your jason todd list and it's so good. I was wondering if you could write one where he has like a bubbly golden retriever girl who is obsessed with him and would leave any conversation to just go to him
First of all, you’re a literal sweetheart omg! Thank you so much for reading, I’m so glad you like my work! And second, I am so so so sorry for how late this is!!
This idea is so cute, Jason totally deserves a cute and bubbly gf!! This is a little bit long, but I hope you like it!!
Tumblr media
Jason had once again invited you to another one of Bruce’s galas as his date. Formal events were never your scene, but you couldn’t say no to Jason, especially when he’d ask so politely.
He’d stare at your face lovingly with his big doe eyes. His calloused hands would cup your face gently as his thumbs delicately grazed your cheeks. His bitten lips would turn into a small smile and you couldn’t bear to say no to his pretty face. That’s how the story always went, he’d stare at you innocently and you’d always agree to attend.
Jason hated attending galas, but he hated going to them alone even more. Hence why he brought you, he wanted you there for moral support. 
He always tried his best to be gentleman when it came to these types of events. His eyes never leaving you for a second.
A few years ago he made up a code for when you’d attend formal events together. You still remember the look he gave you when he explained the “rules.”
His gaze was gentle and his hands were laced with your own. He spoke in a soft, hushed voice, “okay pretty girl, listen up. One squeeze, means you’re done with the conversation. Two is for when you’re ready to leave. Got it?”
You almost never had to use the code though, somehow Jason always knew when it was time to head out.
Galas and formal events were always so consuming, exhausting almost. The politics and business were far too confusing. You never found yourself wanting to engage with most people as it felt awkward to initiate conversations sometimes.
You’d spent most of the evening stuck to Jason’s side with his hands firmly on your waist or tangled between your fingers. 
However, despite your views of the galas, you were a star. Men and women alike frolicked around you, like bees to a flower. You were always a source of wonderment— polite, kind and beautiful. 
You always greeted everyone with a soft, welcoming smile. You were bubbly and made an effort to look engaged in conversations when people approached you. Whenever you’d do this, Jason couldn’t help but smile to himself. It wasn’t your element, but here you were immersing yourself into these empty conversations for him. 
This particular gala felt similar to most of Bruce’s events. Noisey chatter and expensive gowns engulfing the room.
You were starting to feel tired and Jason was starting to feel antsy too. But he was cornered by three men in matching black suits and it was too awkward to leave. You and Jason rarely got separated at such places, but it had seemed to be just one of those nights. You took a seat at the nearest table, as the pair of stilettos on your feet were starting to cause an uncomfortable ache.
You stared into the crowd, a smile small on your face when you’d accidentally make eye contact with someone. You were in your own head, paying no mind to your surroundings when a tall man walked over to you. 
“May I sit here,” he said, pointing to the seat next to you. You nodded your head with a polite smile. 
Minutes go by and you notice the man trying to gather the courage to speak to you, but it seemed that every time he tried, he got nervous. You tried to ignore his behaviour and found yourself looking around the room for Jason. He still seemed to be preoccupied with the men.
Jason’s jade eyes met your gaze from across the room and his stern expression slowly morphed into a small smirk, making the scar near his lip more pronounced. 
He nodded along with the men, but his attention was on you. He stood up taller, trying to fix his posture. He ran a hand through his styled hair, making it just the right amount of messy. He looked good in his navy suit and your eyes raked his body. He looked pretty today and he knew it too.
A voice brings you back to reality and you look over into the direction of the sound. It was the man from earlier. 
“Pardon,” you asked softly and the man smiled. 
“Oh, I was just saying that it’s quite lively here tonight,” he said fixing his tie anxiously.
“It really is, it’s very loud tonight” you kept your answer short. The man looks up at you, his eyes fixed on your lips. 
“So I was wondering-” the man’s words don’t seem to register, you’re too busy looking at Jason. He was done with his conversation and was making his way over to you. You quickly get up in excitement.
The man still seemed to be talking and you find yourself interrupting him. 
“I’m so sorry but my boyfriend-” and Jason pulls you in by the waist, paying no attention to the man. 
“Hey pretty girl, I’m sorry I took so long,” he says. His voice low and sympathetic. You grin in response, happy to see your boyfriend again.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, “let’s go home Jay. I’m so tired and my feet hurt,” you confess, pouting. 
Jason smiles gently. You look beautiful to him. He takes a strand of your hair and tucks it behind your ear and you can feel your face getting hot. Even after years of being together, Jason still had this effect on you. 
“Let’s go, want me to carry you,” Jason giggles and you smack his chest playfully. 
“I’m fine, let’s just leave,” he intertwines your fingers in his and leads you out the door. 
The man’s face looks stunned, he didn’t expect you to run off with your boyfriend mid conversation. 
195 notes · View notes
chosodarling · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media
Dating Laios Touden Headcanons
Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: oh the little guy..... i love him very much. also, i considered doing one of the sillier gifs of him, but i decided against it.
Tumblr media
this guy's very, very sweet with you. he doesn't wanna hurt you on accident, and he gets that he can be annoying sometimes. it's always best for you to listen to his rambling, since that's how he feels like hes being listened to.
he loooves talking about monsters with you. if you're not able to go in the dungeon, he definitely brings back some cool stuff for you. this includes monster scales, pelts, horns, teeth, skulls, flowers, et cetera. if you want him to get you something specific, tell him! however, he might come back with a few wagons full of whatever you asked for (and chilchuck will have a very long and agitated conversation with you!)
however, if you are able to go to the dungeon, he's absolutely overjoyed yet scared shitless. what if you get hurt?? or eaten by a dragon??? or turned to stone??? this means that most of the time, you have to specifically tell him you want to fight if thats what you want. however, if you do want to fight, it's like a match made in heaven for him. he's so super happy that he can fight alongside you! plus, he'll teach you the best ways to defeat monsters and practice his skills with you.
he's quite cuddly, too. he hugs you, holds your hand, plays with your hair, lays on you to sleep, etc etc. he just can't ever get enough of you, and always likes to at least be near you! if you're uncomfortable with cuddling, hes okay with sitting with you and talking about monsters and stuff. he's very considerate!
he's probably the type to watch you sleep 💀 not even in a creepy way, he just likes seeing how peaceful you are and listening to the slow beat of your heart.
if you have a favorite monster to eat from, he'll do his best to hunt down a lot of them. may god help the ecosystem, since he just took out half of that monsters population so you can have good food.
it's absolutely imperative that you get along with the rest of the party. mainly falin, sure, but if laios sees you being unnecessarily rude to a member for whatever reason he'll be very put off by it, since these people are important to him.
overall 10/10 very sweet dungeon man
Tumblr media
thank you very much for reading!
Tumblr media
133 notes · View notes
strangererotica · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
Soft!dom Eddie x Sub!Reader • Dom!Steve x Sub!Reader • Perv!Dirty Cop!Hopper x Reader
SMUT SMUT SMUT, minors DNI • Includes established MFM relationship, mentions of drugs & incarceration, abuse of power, spanking, rough sex with aftercare, angst, sex in the Blazer. Hopper is a manipulative asshole in this fic; only proceed if you’re comfortable reading his character from that perspective. <3
Tumblr media
Eddie sat down heavily, frustrated, on the edge of the bed. He’d been in a weird mood all day, but it seemed his negative attitude had reached a peak. “Over my lap,” he ordered. You smirked back at him in silence, leaning with your ass against the dresser a few feet away. You weren’t going to budge.
Eddie’s eyebrows lifted at your audacity, his big eyes blinking back at you in surprise. He sat forward slightly, palms closed over his knees. “Okay,” he conceded. “You wanna be a brat, that’s fine. I’ll tell Steve when he gets home, let him deal with you…”
You winced, knowing from experience that if Steve delivered your punishment, you wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably for days. Steve’s hands were bigger than Eddie’s, and he had fewer reservations than Eddie did when it came to leaving marks.
Eddie’s lips twisted into a smug grin as you reluctantly made your way over to him, pulling your panties down. “That’s what I thought,” he teased. Eddie guided you onto his lap, your stomach resting over his thighs, head dipped toward the floor. He lightly groped the fat of your left cheek, before drawing back his hand and spanking you.
The sting was minimal, but the burn left in the wake of Eddie’s hand radiated through your muscles. A little shiver ran down your spine as Eddie’s breath blew cool between your shoulders. “What am I being punished for, Sir?” you asked. Eddie chuckled above you.
“You really don’t know?” he asked, before spanking you again. “Thats kind of adorable. You take my hand so well-.” *smack!* “-And you don’t even know what you’re being punished for. Just that I know what’s best for you…” *smack*
Eddie was switching between both sides of your ass, rubbing away the sting each of his strikes left behind. You were grateful for Eddie’s punishment and not Steve’s, because unlike Eddie, Steve never participated in any kind of aftercare. That was Eddie’s job; Steve left the tenderness up to him.
After fucking you into a wet, contented mess, Steve would just leave the room. He’d pull out of whichever of your holes he’d just obliterated, leaving you sloppy and swollen, letting his cum drip all over the place as he staggered off to the shower. Eddie’s job was to clean you up, to soothe your wounds after a particularly rough session, and to make you feel safe. Eddie would lick you head to toe, cleaning Steve’s cum off your skin and from inside whichever hole Steve had used.
You’d sometimes come again while Eddie was cleaning you up, and he’d give you lots of praises and encouragement for doing so. He’d kiss your pussy and tell you, from between your slick, quivering thighs, what a good job you’d done making Steve happy, and making him happy, too.
Eddie would then pull you into his arms and cuddle you to sleep. You’d drift off in the safety of his arms, with the comforting feeling of Eddie’s cock pulsing against your ass. When he was sure you were asleep, Eddie would carefully exit the bed and go relieve himself in the bathroom.
“Such a good girl,” he said softly, caressing the sensitive skin of your ass. “I’ll bet when people see you out and about in Hawkins, they’d never guess what a little freak you are behind closed doors…”
Eddie groped your ass, messaging away the pain. You shifted on his lap, his stiffening cock poking uncomfortably against your ribs.
“I’ll tell you,” Eddie said. “Why you had to be punished.” He guided you off his lap and seated you beside him on the bed. You waited for Eddie’s explanation. “Last night,” he began. “When we were fucking…you called me Jim.”
It was difficult, but you managed to conceal the wave of dread that rushed through you. Shit.
“And it got me thinking…” Eddie continued, his tone cautious, displeased. “…Do we know anyone named Jim?”
You avoided Eddie’s eyes, fearing the look of suspicion you’d undoubtedly see in them.
“Or maybe the real question is…” Eddie sighed, wrapping his arm around you, a soft (but intentional) act of dominance. “…Who do you know named Jim?”
You swallowed, stalling, your mind scrambling to make up a suitable response. You wouldn’t tell Eddie the truth, of course. That you were secretly fucking a man name Jim behind both Eddie and Steve’s back…that Jim was Chief Jim Hopper. You couldn’t tell Eddie that you and the Chief had agreed upon an arrangement of sorts, one which existed in order to keep Eddie out of prison…
Your boyfriend was a drug dealer. Everyone in Hawkins basically knew this about Eddie; but he’d somehow avoided being charged for possessing or selling illegal substances. At least, until a few months ago. Chief Hopper had followed an anonymous tip that had told him where Eddie was currently crashing. The tip had brought Hopper straight to the door of your apartment complex. He’d parked his Blazer in front of the building, and waited for Eddie to emerge.
With every intention of arresting Eddie, Hopper had waited, and watched. But when Eddie did emerge from behind the door, he wasn’t alone. He was with you. And from the way you were hanging on Eddie, lifting on your tiptoes to reach his neck for a kiss, it was more than obvious to Hopper that you and Eddie were a couple.
A rather sinister idea was born in Hopper’s mind…that if you cared for Eddie as much as it appeared you did, you’d likely be willing to do whatever it took to keep him out of trouble. Hopper chose to postpone Eddie’s arrest until he’d had the chance to confront you in private. The following afternoon, Hopper waited for you to leave the apartment alone, and then made his move.
Under the guise of arresting you for drug possession, Hopper had gone through the whole cuffing process, making sure to grope you more than he needed to in his search for any ‘weapons’ you may have had on you. Hopper loaded you into his vehicle, but put you in the front seat beside him instead of the back. When you questioned him what evidence he had against you, Hopper explained that he was actually there for a different reason.
“That scumbag boyfriend of yours,” Hopper started, and left the sentence hanging as if it didn’t require a conclusion. You didn’t bother explaining to Hopper that you had two boyfriends, because it wasn’t necessary. Given Eddie’s reputation in Hawkins as a metal-loving, devil-worshiping, pothead deviant, assuming Hopper was referring to Eddie made sense.
To play off your nerves, you pretended not to know about Eddie’s drug usage or selling. Batting your lashes at Hopper in an attempt at naïveté, you hoped to throw him off any suspicion of Eddie (and by association, you and Steve also). “You mean Eddie?”
Hopper smirked back at you, digging a cigarette from his pocket. Your charm wasn’t working on him. “Yeah,” he replied dryly. “Who the fuck else would I mean?” Hopper rested the cigarette between his lips and held his lighter beneath its tip. You watched it bloom and crackle alight, your heart rate steadily increasing. You knew that if Eddie were to be arrested, the cops would likely have enough evidence to lock him away for a long time. And that terrified you.
Affirming the direction your thoughts were taking, Hopper explained, “Reason I’m here now, talking to you instead of Eddie, is because l see how much you care about him.”
Hopper exhaled smoke in front of him, looking ahead through the windshield as he spoke. “You don’t wanna see Eddie do time…hell, I don’t want to see the kid get locked up, either…”
That was a lie, and you knew it. Hopper didn’t give a shit about someone like Eddie. “But he does have some serious charges against him…some that could land him years behind bars.”
You shuddered at the thought of Eddie missing from your life. You and Steve would have each other, of course…but without Eddie’s softness, there would only be Steve’s roughness. The tenderness Eddie showed you, the cuddling, the warmth, the gentle punishment rather than harsh, would be gone. Your world would be a darker, lonelier place, without Eddie in it…
“So what can I do?” you asked, unprepared for what Hopper did next. “I mean, how can I help Eddie?”
The Chief removed his cigarette and licked his lips, a lecherous little smile replacing his former look of compassion. His tone was colored with a husky, suggestive darkness when he spoke, his hand moving to rest atop your thigh… “I’m sure you and I can work something out...”
You gazed down at Hopper’s hand, watching his fingers boldly trace further between your legs. He didn’t react when you called him a pig, and when you asked “are you really that fucking desperate for a woman to touch you?” Hopper laughed, unaffected.
“Trust me, sweetheart,” he assured you, taking another relaxed drag of his cigarette. “I don’t need this…” Hopper slipped his hand deeper, till he was cupping your cunt in his palm. You drew in a shocked breath.
“…But if you want your loser boyfriend to stay out of prison-.” Hopper continued, slipping his fingers under the fabric of your panties. “-You do need me…”
There was a pause between you, as Hopper awaited your response. He let his fingers glide between your lips, gently spreading your labia apart. When Hopper’s thumb pressed against your clit, a soft whimper left your lips before you could stop it. He snickered callously; Hopper’s ego was boundless.
“Fine,” you conceded, after weighing your options (you had none). “If you promise to keep Eddie safe.” Your jaw was tensed in a look of defiance.
Hopper nodded his approval, a triumphant, sick grin on his face. He removed his hand from between your thighs with a groan, and placed it on the gear shift. “Atta girl,” he muttered over his cigarette, and put the Blazer in reverse.
Hopper pulled out of the building’s parking lot, and drove you somewhere private, a place where no one would see how he touched you, how his fingers pumped in and out of you in time with the rhythm of your hand around his cock. No one knew that twice a week for the past three months, you’d been fucking the town’s Chief of Police in the back of his squad car. And what only you knew, not even Hopper, was that you liked it.
You’d liked it the first time, and every time since. Hopper was older than Steve and Eddie, and with those years came an experience that was obvious in the way he fucked you. Hopper didn’t just lick your pussy; he made out with it, sloppy, filthy tongue-fucking you, smearing your slick, saturating his beard in the wet heat of you. He’d come up for air just long enough to breathe, before burying his face between your thighs again. Hopper smothered himself against your cunt, lapping long stripes up and down your slit, consuming you like a man taking his first meal in days…
Hopper was hung, and he knew how to use what Mother Nature had equipped him with. When you rode him, Hopper was always able to buck up into you without hurting you. He had a control over his body that few men you’d been with could claim. Being an exceptionally cocky, dirty bastard may have had something to do with Hopper’s confidence; but regardless, he’d obviously had a lot of practice fucking women.
You wondered sometimes how many women Hopper had been with. You vaguely recalled the rumors you’d heard whispered around town about Hopper’s reputation for pumping and dumping the women of Hawkins. But somehow, the rumors had failed to include the fact that Jim Hopper was a goddamn pro when it came to fucking.
The backseat of his police Blazer was cramped, but he fucked too well for you to mind the location. You would have let him have you anywhere, regardless of how uncomfortable, dirty, or inconvenient the place. Being folded up and pinned under the weight of Hopper’s body, his strong arms locking you in place, filled you with a sick sense of security. However toxic he was as a human being, Hopper’s ability to bring your body to rapture was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. The twisted arrangement between you and Hopper had quickly begun to feel more like a relationship.
Even when you were being intimate with Eddie and Steve, you found yourself longing for Hopper. The bed your boyfriends fucked you in was soft and warm, all silk sheets and fluffy pillows, lavender-scented candles arranged at the bedside. It used to be your sanctuary, your favorite place in the world.
But now, what turned you on more than silk sheets was the feeling of your ass being rut into the sweaty, polyester backseat of Hopper’s car. In exchange of the soft romance of lavender, you preferred the scent of Hopper’s aftershave and stale cigarettes, the musk of his sweat dripping from his chest to yours as he fucked you...
— Eddie squeezed his arm around you tighter, and it shook you from your thoughts of Hopper. “So tell me, baby,” Eddie pressed, a poorly-concealed suspicion in his voice. “Who do you know named Jim…?”
You tried to laugh it off, telling Eddie he must have misinterpreted the sounds you were making. “I was moaning a lot,” you teased, trying to distract him. Eddie stared at you for a moment, as if waiting for you to confess something. When he realized he wasn’t going to get anymore information out of you, Eddie offered you his hand to leave the bed. “Doesn’t matter, pretty girl,” he said with pleasant tone. “What d’you say we smoke a little, watch some TV, then head to bed?” Eddie pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. When he pulled away, there was a sadness in his eyes that the artificial smile on his lips couldn’t hide.
“I’d like that,” you replied, taking Eddie’s hand. He glanced at the clock beside the bed. “It’s late,” Eddie observed. “Better get our fun in now; Steve’ll be home from work soon...”
Tumblr media
Steve Harrington wasn’t a jealous man. Or perhaps more truthfully, he was jealous and simply refused to acknowledge it. The relationship you and Eddie had together irritated Steve, because it was a level of intimacy he himself had never been a part of.
Unlike Eddie, Steve was able to hold down a full time job. Being away from the apartment the three of you shared for eight hours a day meant that Eddie had access to you that Steve did not. Eddie’s current employment status was, officially, unemployed. Unofficially, Eddie was quite a successful local drug dealer. Steve normally would have had nothing to do with the kind of guy Eddie was…but you loved Eddie, for reasons Steve could only guess at.
Maybe you loved Eddie because he was gentle, soft in all the places Steve couldn’t be. If there was an emotional switch inside of himself that Steve could have flipped, to make him the kind of soft dominant that Eddie was, Steve would have flipped it in a heartbeat. All he wanted, was to be wanted exclusively by you.
Steve had grown up in a home where affection was scarce, and almost never expressed. Watching the shit show of a marriage his parents had, Steve decided early on that he never wanted to be tied down to any one person. He’d constructed walls around his heart to protect him from any relationship a woman could offer him beyond sex. Meeting you had been a life-altering experience for Steve. Because despite all the years he’d spent hardening his heart, you’d entered Steve’s life and demolished them instantly…
The problem was, Steve still had so much emotional baggage to rid himself of, before he could love you the way you deserved to be loved. He didn’t want to be the mature, stoic presence in your life forever; but it’s all he knew how to be. Steve wanted to romance you, to spend his family’s generous fortune on something that mattered for a change: on your happiness.
But the man you loved, whose arms you drifted to sleep in every night, was a drug-dealing freak. The complete opposite of Steve, who’d barely smoked a single joint in his life, let alone tried the harder drugs Eddie was fond of using and distributing...
Steve left work for the evening and was grateful to be heading home, for the chance to be near you again. He drove his BMW to the apartment complex, pulling to a stop in his usual space. Steve would have entered the building as usual, without pause, if he hadn’t noticed a police vehicle pulling out of the lot just as he pulled in. Steve was always a little wary around cops, not for himself really, but because he didn’t want you to get in trouble for your association with Eddie.
Steve watched the car pull away, noting the lettering on its sides. “Chief,” he read aloud, and his anxieties multiplied. A standard police vehicle wouldn’t have concerned Steve as much, but the Chief of Police had apparently been to your building. Maybe Steve was being paranoid, but he needed confirmation that you were alright.
He walked briskly up the two flights of stairs to your apartment, and unlocked the door in a hurry. “(Y/N)?” Steve called into the dark front room. “Ed?” He rounded the corner to the bedroom and found you and Eddie asleep, in each other’s arms as usual. Steve lingered in the doorway, leaning against it, his heart rate slowing to normal. Of course he was only being paranoid, again. Whatever business the Chief of Police had at your building, it clearly did not involve Eddie. For the moment, anyway.
Steve sighed in relief, setting his briefcase on the couch. He loosened his necktie and made his way to the kitchen for something small to eat. After finishing his quick meal and a couple of beers, Steve returned to the bedroom. He watched your body softly sleeping, hair splayed in pretty waves across your pillow.
Steve climbed into bed beside you, and pressed his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss he knew you wouldn’t feel. “Sweet dreams, angel,” he whispered. Steve wrapped his arms around you and held you closer than usual, wishing he could give you this same tenderness when you were awake. But Steve knew he was too cowardly for that, too frightened of revealing his love for you.
He held you a little closer than all the nights before, curved his body securely around yours more snugly than usual; because finally, Steve realized, it’s how he should have been holding you all along…
Tumblr media
100 notes · View notes
ceilidho · 3 days
Note
okay you opened a can of worms by inviting me to share my thoughts but i'm spewing this jumbled mess into your inbox.
i don't know why the fallout price cult leader got the worms WIGGLING as much as they did but it's so, so brilliant. because cults are so, so sneaky. there's a reason why people join them, or are born into them, and never ever leave. they're charismatic. kind. they make the weird acceptable in ways most others wouldn't. like i mentioned before, out of the frying pan and into the fire; except you don't fully realize you're on fire.
price's vault runs so smoothly that no one would ever expect anything sinister because all the inhabitants are completely content, if not thrilled with their lives. they welcome you with open arms, which is much needed and extremely missed after not having real human contact for x amount of time due to distancing because of the sickness that ravaged your old home.
oh god, and new breeding stock? i just know that if you make a comment about it, unsure if they're joking, they pass it off as an archaic term. it's your strong genes. you survived a plague, didn't you? if you eventually choose to wed and have children, it'll strengthen the population. that's it. don't think too hard about it.
but all it is is fucking mind games. they have to rewire your brain if you'll ever be an upstanding citizen of the vault. everything is completely normal, especially the things that make you uncomfortable. it's how they get you. how they hook you in and never let you go. and hell, if they can't train you? good on Mr. Price, our Overseer, to take in such a wreck of a woman. he truly is our good leader, setting such a wild thing straight.
it's like if midsommar and fallout had a fucking child and i'm so here for it. i think this will rot me from the inside out for a few days.
but also the idea of raider!johnny just. fuckin covered in blood after slaughtering the band of raiders for ever dare insinuating that you were anything but his is also hot as fuck. i do love my men feral and disgusting.
omg I forgot to post this the other day because I read it as I was falling asleep but holy shit……please write this I beg of you 😫 sometimes I look back at the way Price spoke to Gaz in MW1, the subtle manipulation of it all, and god. He’d make such a good cult leader.
66 notes · View notes
bakubunny · 3 days
Note
My first on fridays we share with the class ask!! I haven't had anything but Kirishima and Bakugou on my mind recently, specifically fluffy comfort between an experienced Kirishima, anxious Bakugou, and neurodivergent reader. Bakugou is a rather loud person, even into adulthood, and he knows this. Bakugou also is somebody I personally see as not the best at comforting people. This always seems to cause Kirishima to be the one comforting reader when they need it. Bakugou never really minded this, he does wish he could comfort reader like the red head does though, just so they could be more comfortable around him. I have a feeling he'd be nervous about upsetting reader by saying something wrong or being too loud, so he never really gained very much experience in comforting them. So when reader ends up overwhelmed by something (ex.: schedule completely thrown off, an overstimulating situation, a very loud group of people, these are just ideas) he isn't entirely sure what to do. He goes to find Kirishima for help once he's sure reader is ok to be on their own for a couple minutes, and once Kirishima does come to help, he decides to teach Bakugou how to comfort reader without making anything worse (ex.: where reader doesn't like being touched, helping them calm their breathing, comforting words, distractions, also just ideas).
Sorry this is so long, and sorry if anything in this made you uncomfortable. Also sorry it's so specific, feel free to change anything if you do end up writing for this ask. This was written with an autistic reader in mind but it doesn't have to be specified. Thank you for your time, and have a nice Friday!!
Tumblr media
this is so sweet 🥺 i like that you specified an autistic reader because that’s a perspective i don’t have; i typically approach nd!reader with an adhd mindset.
while i like to hc katsuki as someone who’s almost too observant for his own good and quickly learns what doesn’t work, i could see this, too, especially in his early 20s. he still fumbles quite a bit socially in some ways as he learns to let his guard down and show his soft side. sometimes he doesn’t know what to do with himself; he hates seeing you flinch a little when he yells and he tries so much to prevent it, even though you’ve told him many times it’s okay, it’s only because he was loud.
i think having a friend like eijiro around for him to ask questions or even just observe in the moments when it’s difficult for you to communicate what you need does a lot of good in bridging that gap until you can talk about it later. this would go even further in a krbk x reader relationship in that i think katsuki would pick up quicker than you might have assumed initially.
Tumblr media
21 notes · View notes
Text
So I just had to unfortunately block someone for being rude in the comments of one of my posts. Since I blocked them and the conversation is gone I'll put the conversation down below in the interest of fairness. I feel like this person is probably pretty young and still learning so i'd like to extend them some grace. If they are willing to learn to be kinder in fandom spaces then I am willing to hear them out and unblock them. Until then, my blog is a safe space for me and for anyone else who would like to have fun and be respectful about it. I know that I say a lot of nonsense. I know that what I joke about or the things I share aren't for everyone. I'm not for everyone. (Hell, sometimes i'm not even my OWN cup of tea.) AND THAT'S OKAY. You are under no obligation to follow me, interact with me, or even let me follow you or interact with you if who I am and how I joke makes you uncomfortable. But you do owe others kindness and respect as long as they show you that kindness and respect in turn. In this case, this person did not show up to me as their best self and so I chose to disengage and to block. If this happens again with anyone else, I will do the same. (Also with the caveat that changed behavior can lead to being unblocked, because I DO believe in giving people the space and time to change and do better.)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
24 notes · View notes
sstarmoon · 2 days
Text
There were only three people that Regulus had let see the most vulnerable and weakest part of him; Sirius, James and Remus.
— Remus was his best friend, the person he trusts completely. With whom he could spend hours and hours reading in silence and would never get tired or feel uncomfortable. Regulus knew that he could tell Remus anything. That he was, in some way, his platonic soulmate. Remus was the person with whom he could be completely calm, the person with whom he understood without having to speak.
When he looked at Remus he couldn't help but see himself; a different version of him. And Regulus couldn't help but smile when thinking about that. He really loved Remus, he was a very important person in his life. He would risk anything for him.
— Sirius was his brother, the person he loves most in the world, the person who was there for him since he was born. Regulus loved Sirius in a way that no one could understand, only they knew how much they needed each other. If Sirius, for some reason, stopped being there for Regulus; a very large part of him would be empty, dead. It was a connection, a bond, a type of love that only brothers share.
By blood or heart, whatever; they were stars of the same constellation. Children of the same mother. Victims of a shared pain.
And Regulus needed his big brother so much. His care, his comfort. Cry in his arms and know that everything was going to be okay, that his big brother was there for him. Regulus could be small, weak child who cried and trembled in his older brother's arms, paralyzed with fear; or an lost, scared adult, fearing like a little child, and yet he would always feel protected in Sirius' arms. Because Sirius had seen the worst and the best of him, and he still was proud of his little brother.
And even if for a period of time he couldn't say it, even if for a period of his life was hard to admit it, Sirius would give his life for his baby brother. And Regulus loved Sirius so, so much. Regulus wouldn't be the person he is if it weren't for his big brother.
— James was the love of his life, his soulmate. Regulus lives for him and would die for him. James was his everything. He adored every part of James as if he were the most beautiful thing in the world, and he was.
Every time he looked into James' dark brown eyes he couldn't help but think about how the man in front of him had no idea how much he loved him.
It was cute to know that James thought exactly the same.
But even if James told him a thousand times that he loved him with all his being, Regulus would never believe him. Not completely, at least. Because Regulus would never believe that James could love him as much as he loved him, because what Regulus felt was so strong that it was almost painful.
There was no human way, no words enough, no actions possible that could show how much Regulus loved that man.
James was the sun to his star, the day to his night.
Regulus never knew what it was like to feel loved, complete, before he met James. And sometimes it was frustrating not having the words to say it. An I love you was not enough, an I love you was nothing compared to what Regulus felt.
Sometimes Regulus just wanted to grab James' face and scream, because jeez, he loved him so much that it crossed the line to the opposite side. He sometimes wanted to punch his stupid, handsome face for forcing him to love him more than anyone could love.
James was an idiot, and god, Regulus loved him so much that he cried once a month thinking about it. Regulus loved him so much he fucking hated him, because, how could an idiot like James Potter make his whole world his?
Everyone revolved around the sun, no one could avoid it. It was so bright and warm, gravity was pulling them towards it.
But Regulus was completely his.
James didn't know the power he had over Regulus and sometimes he scared himself thinking about how much control James had over his emotions.
James Fleamont Potter had no idea that he had next to him an idiot who would die and kill in each one of his lives to spend just one with him.
And Regulus had no idea that James would tear his heart out of his chest and hand it to his worst enemy if it meant he could see Regulus' beautiful eyes looking back at his one more day.
29 notes · View notes
lovemyromance · 3 days
Note
god that elucien blog is so annoying. they have the worst takes and get mad whenever theyre forced to have a logical argument and always start attacking. that comment about your trauma not being special was fucked up, sorry you had to deal with that. theyre horrid sometimes
Thanks. Honestly, I was a little taken aback by the force at which these Gwynriels started attacking me all because I said the ship makes me uncomfortable.
They just kept harping that all SA victims are fine with Gwynriel and it only makes Elriels uncomfortable and I was just like "actually, not true." And I got hit with the "well your personal SA trauma doesn't make you any more superior to try to shame an entire ship" or whatever
Like what? Excuse me?
Aside from the fact that I literally never said that
Genuinely I had to sit there like - what the actual fuck? I'm not out here commenting on anti posts telling them their ship is making me uncomfortable. I just scroll past it.
But then they come onto my post and have the audacity to call me all sorts of names and dismiss my own trauma to tell me that "actually no Gwyn is ready to have all these aggressively sexual HCs we have because she asked Azriel if he could sing and they can ship them because they're fictional characters". Like okay? I don't care?
Why come into my post and say I'm wrong? Say I'm misogynistic for wanting to ship female characters (especially ones with SA trauma) only when they are ready and with people they've actually shown interest in?
Literally these people are insane. I'm blocking all of them from now on. I'm not having "debates" anymore with people who don't even respect real people, let alone fictional characters.
19 notes · View notes
barbiewritesstuff · 2 days
Text
Glimpses: True Love's Embrace and True Love's Caress (Part two)
Thank you so so much to @ayselluna and @ladyspacey for requesting a part two. It means so much to me ❤️
Not proofread. Never proofread.
Tumblr media
He paces in front of your tent, creating a path in the dirt where his feet dragged. Shadowheart is inside, stitching what she can't heal with Lae’zel’s help. The two of them have gotten close, closer than he expected if their sneaking back from that private clearing was any indication…. He tries to distract himself with that, the gossip, the drama he could create if he told Gale but your voice floats his way and he’s back to thinking about you.
You sound a little hoarse, and you speak barely above a whisper when you tell the girls you’re okay. You lie when they ask what happens, your version of events thankfully matching his own, because he'd been too much of a coward to admit to Gale and Karlach that you were wearing the matching magic rings everyone all but made you swear not to wear, and that Astarion hadn’t noticed until he’d been so lost staring at your perfect breasts that he'd gotten stabbed.
But then, where to start if he told the truth? They’d ask why you would give him the ring, something he wasn't so sure about either. There were multiple possibilities of course, one being that you'd realised he was bloody useless in a fight and decided he was the biggest liability. In order to preserve potions and reviving scrolls, you had casted a warding bond over him. That was the answer he liked best. The one that allowed him to turn the pain, grief and absolute terror bubbling inside him like an unsupervised cauldron into anger.
It wasn’t the correct reason of course, and deep down -- and let’s be honest, not so deep down -- he knew it.
There had been a few nights of passion, a couple of stolen moments of heavy petting when searching for loot or simply when no one was around to look, but these seemed overshadowed by the nights he forwent his meditations in favour of spending your watch by your side, sometimes chatting, sometimes not -- There was never the expectation to entertain you, something which, at first, made him wildly uncomfortable but that he now cherished.
There were the mornings you snuck into his tent to do your makeup in front of the only unbroken mirror in camp. You always tried so hard not to “wake” him, but he’d usually pretend to awaken halfway through you applying powder on your eyes -- Placing the blame on his being up on you was easier to admit he woke up specifically to gaze at you applying creams, powders and lipsticks, but at this point, he figures you know anyway. There’s no need to be subtle with you, no need to steal anything, even moments, when you made it clear through repeated actions that whatever he wanted to take, you would give freely, even your own blood.
There was also the matter of loot. How you stole anything that wasn’t nailed down (and some things that were, in fact, nailed down. You’d stolen the nails too) in order to sell and barter your way towards food, armour, trinkets and Karlach’s ever growing collection of Teddy bears. But as soon as Astarion mentioned he liked something, even if it could be bartered for exactly what they needed at that moment, you would give it to him. He tries to stay quiet now after battles, half so he doesn’t arouse suspicion and half because the last time he spoke up, you gave him the trinket that would have bought you the first meal you’d eaten in nearly three days. And yet, shiny, pretty or even ridiculously ugly things he might like and get a kick out of, keep appearing in his tent -- it used to freak him out, how well you knew him, and it still does sometimes, especially when he admits to himself that this all was meant to be manipulative. He was meant to seduce you to gain favour and protection. Fucking you was his ticket to safety, to salvation. And it did get him that, he guesses, it just wasn’t the safety and salvation he bargained for.
The flaps of the tent part and Shadowheart pops her head out.
“She’s fine to see visitors,” she tells him, “She’s still weak but the noise of your pacing was driving us up the wall.”
“Pardon me for being worried,” he says, dramatically placing a hand over his dead heart in emphasis.
Shadowheart humms sceptically, “Worried she might die, or worried you won’t be able to feed?”
Well, he internally scoffs, at least he still has them fooled.
“Speaking of, you’re on a rat diet until she’s fully healed,” Shadowheart adds as he steps into the tent and she and Lae’zel step out.
He wasn’t even thinking of feeding, even with the blood gushing out of your wound, calling his name with every dwindling heartbeat, he’d fought a surprisingly easy fight against his more feral instincts and brought you back to camp. Nothing but worry for your safety and irrational fury had crossed his mind since your injury.
Irrational fury he was now failing to keep down.
“What the hell were you thinking?!” He whispers through gritted teeth, “You could have died, you absolute fool. Do you think me so incapable of protecting myself?!” He continues, ignoring the fact that you can hear the grief in his voice. The other two can’t, they haven’t spent enough time with him, but you know him inside out.
You stay quiet, much to his absolute fury.
“I am not a child you need to protect, I am perfectly capable of doing this myself,” he adds, grabbing her wrist in his hand, and sliding the ring off your finger. You open your mouth in protest, but he throws the most genuine glare he can muster your way, and you close your mouth again without speaking.
He pockets your ring, and takes off his own, placing both in the inside pocket of his jacket.
Astarion eventually gives you one of them, tucked inside a letter he gives you before the final battle, and that he asks that you keep on you till the end. It’s his own ring, obviously, and he prays it’ll keep you safe even if you're only carrying it.
18 notes · View notes
strawbrygashez · 1 day
Text
Zero Day Family HCS
Some thoughts I have about how the two would interact with each others families and whatnot..
•In the movie, it seems like Cals family is always doing something & are very family oriented! With how large that one party was and how we see Cals parents interact with Cal a lot more positively than how Andres parents interact with Andre… SO this makes me believe that when Andre does accompany Cal to those big family events, he feels slightly overwhelmed and out of place.
Since Andres extended family is more than likely all back in Germany, it feels so alien for him to see a whole family around like this. Grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, you name it.. he has no idea it feels that’s like. It’s literally always has been just Andre and his parents the majority of his life.
That being said though, I think Cals close and extended family welcome Andre with open arms. They’ll chat with him and pull him either which way at a party to go see something or someone :,)
(Speaking of, wouldn’t it be funny if one of Cals cousins had a little crush on Andre.. and they tell Cal something like, “Yeah your friend over there is kinda cute. What’s his name again?” And Cal just… becomes a total dickhead and is like “Let me introduce you to him :D he’s single!” And drags them along to meet Andre despite their protests. He himself knows that Andre will more than likely not be interested at all but Cal loves pushing Andres buttons and making him uncomfortable every now and then.)
So Cal will walk off after he introduces the two and says some bs like “hey you aren’t seeing anyone right Andre? I want you to meet my cousin.” Andre is dying on the inside because he has no idea what to say to her and it’s just so uncomfortable for them both. He definitely finds Cal after and hits him in the back of his head)
•Cals siblings are obsessed with Andre. They always run to the door when he comes over and show him things they made or new toys they got and unless Cal puts up a fight or Andre is just really not in the mood, they’ll try to pull Andre outside so they can play things like football with him.
Initially, Andre didn’t think he’d like being around Cals siblings because for all he knew, all kids were just annoying and loud but once they started going on about how they like Andre more than their own brother sometimes, he’s making sure he’s the coolest guy they know. He likes the feeling of being someone others look up to and the little ego boost that comes with it :,)
•Again with Cals siblings, I think even they can tell how totally joined at the hip Cal and Andre are.. which leads to some teasing and “Uncle Andre” being said 💀 Andre won’t even take it to heart like he would if anyone his age was saying that kinda stuff to him since their just kids and are genuinely just playing around. He’ll just playfully shove them away or put a hand over their face to make them shut up.
•Andre isn’t particularly close to Cals parents but they like him well enough. Andre doesn’t really know how to deal with parental figures that well because his own parents are kinda just yknow ‘there’ for the most part. He doesn’t particularly feel very close to his own parents besides maybe his mom a bit.
————————————————————————
•Andres mom loves Cal a lot! I feel like Andre never had any close friends growing up so she’s so happy Cal hangs out with him. Especially because he seems so nice and a good influence (💀).
I like to imagine that one day, Cal went to Andres house because he needed to vent and just get out of his own house for a bit but when he showed up, Andre wasn’t there. Like maybe he’s working later then usual or some school thing came up. Usually, Cal would just go up to Andres room anyways to wait for him but Andres mom insisted on making him something.
Cals sitting there at the dinner table dissociating and she notices somethings off so she asks if he’s okay and.. he just starts bawling. He doesn’t even mean to but yknow how just hearing someone ask if your okay can make u cry? Yeah. So she sits down with him and tries her best to calm him down and understand what’s going on.
Hes’s eventually able to calm himself down with a mix of her help and him just being embarrassed he broke down in front of her. Andre comes in soon after and is very confused why Cal looks like he just got done crying with his mom next to him. And is even more confused when his mom tells Andre to keep a eye on him and maybe take him out somewhere.
•Andres dad and Cal barely interact besides Andres dad patting his shoulder and asking about school, girls, what he’s been up to and etc. Cal can tell that Andres dad doesn’t like him that much since Cal doesn’t really act all tough and masculine but it’s nothing crazy. Just kinda a thing where they’ll occasionally chat and nod to each other but that’s about it.
•Andres mom loves to share embarrassing things about Andre so much. Like telling stories about how cute Andre was and how he’d follow her around all the time when he was younger, how’d he pick her flowers, how he still believed in Santa a bit past the appropriate age to still believe in him, and etc. she also loves showing Cal Andres baby pictures and videos too. Andre will straight up leave or put his head in his hands but Cal doesn’t give a shit. He’s SO giddy about seeing this old side of Andre. It takes everything in Andre not to hit Cal when he asks “Where’d that sweet, kind boy go?”
15 notes · View notes
godofsmallthings · 4 months
Text
i wish i could take the time to parse through my taylor swift is/isn't a gay icon thoughts on here but i fear people on this website don't know how to behave
192 notes · View notes
sparklecryptid · 4 months
Text
I had no patience for people policing other peoples ships before i went to library tech school and library tech school has make me a little bit pissy about the entire thing actually.
130 notes · View notes
shima-draws · 1 month
Text
Anyway speaking of poly trios. Have any of you considered Lawlusan because MANNNN.
52 notes · View notes