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#i didn't really care about it and then i read fanfiction
mactavishenjoyer · 2 days
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This is still just an idea not a fanfiction but adding more to this
Ghost sat in awkward silence next to Price while they waited for Soap to finish. Ghost couldn't bring himself to say anything or even look up from the floor until the silence was finally broken as Price let out a deep sigh. "If he doesn't pass this psych eval you know I'm going to beat the shit out of you right? I swear if I have to put him on leave because you cheated on him I'll make sure you fucking regret it." Ghost shifted uncomfortably in his seat at price's words.
"I didn't know..."
"didn't know what? That he would pull a gun out on you? Neither did I but here we fucking are." Price stood up "I'm going to go smoke." he said before leaving, a cigar already in his hands. An onlooker might have mistaken Price for a tired dad with the way he was acting.
Ghost sat there hoping Soap didn't come out while he was alone but of course he would never be that Lucky. As if the universe could read his thoughts Soap walked out. He looked at Ghost with nothing but Disgust.
"Where is price?"
"He stepped out for a cigarette."
" and why are you still here?"
Why was Ghost still here? Yeah he cared about Soap but it wasn't like he was the one in love with him. He couldn't help but feel like he had to. As if he still had the lingering of the other Ghost's emotions. Maybe he should come clean? Admit that he wasn't His Ghost. God, he'd sound Crazy. He's causing more damage by lying though.
It took a lot of convincing but Soap was eventually convinced to hear Ghost out. As he sits beside the person his boyfriend cheated on him with he starts to regret it.
"Why the fuck is the whore here?"
"I'm not a fucking whore"
"really because from what I hear you can't stop sleeping with taken people. Isn't that how you ended up a single father?"
Gary looked like he was going to punch Soap and soap looked the exact same way. Ghost made a desperate attempt to calm Soap down. Like how Ghost did to Gary he spilled his Guts to Soap. Telling him literally everything. Soap laughed in response"God, what fucking bullshit!".
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amber-tortoiseshell · 6 months
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what's your color headcanon for Shadowsight? I personally imagine him as a black smoke with ghost tabby
Thanks for the ask! 😸 However I have to start with this: right now i'm only at the last book of A Vision of Shadows. So for me Shadowsight is just a kit with some concerning visions, and i don't know much about him or his siblings. This means my opinions on the family can and probably will change when i get to know them better.
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I wrote Shadowkit into my family tree as blue blotched tabby. Blue can get very dark, so i think it passes the "dark grey" description, and I like that he isn't a perfect copy of the tigers but a "diluted" one.
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However I have to admit i like yours too! Dovewing is silver for me, so black smoke is perfectly within the possibilities of her and Tigerheart's litter, and it looks cool. I'd keep the blotched ghost pattern.
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allylikethecat · 1 month
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Matty's mare!!!! I love her, I love the update, it's so good 💚💚
Ahhh thank you so much for not only taking the time to read the new chapter of All the King's Horses but to also send me this ask!! I'm so happy to hear that you enjoyed the update (I'm sorry it was late!!) and that you like Fictional!Matty's mare! I'm so excited about Sally the horse, and I was grinning so much as I wrote about her because Fictional!Matty loves her *so much* which as someone who is *also* absolutely obsessed with their horse, I relate to on a very personal level. Not to be dramatic but Pop (my gelding) is my entire world, literally sometimes I will just start crying because I love him so much and I don't know how I got lucky enough to be his person. My Fictional!Matty feels the same way about Sally (which is also an interesting position for him to be in- he's a professional he's not supposed to get attached to horses like this...) Thank you so much for giving my very niche AU a chance! I hope you continue to enjoy how the story unfolds! I hope your Sunday is going wonderfully and that you have a great rest of the week!
❤️Ally
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camellcat · 2 months
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every time I remember no hot ashes/bad wolf I just. oh my god. ROSE TYLER AND MICKEY SMITH AND THEIR LITTLE FAMILY OF MISFIT FRIENDS </3333
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trivalentlinks · 1 year
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genuine question: do you think fan fiction non-trivially benefits the creators of the corresponding original work?
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evasive-anon · 3 months
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Jason Attacking Tim at Titans Tower
Fanon vs Canon
We've all seen the versions in fanfiction but I'm not so sure everyone's seen the original so if you're one of those batfam fans who doesn't want to read the comics (regardless of reasons) but you are curious about how it actually went this is for you.
What I'm addressing:
What does Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?
Did Jason drug all the other Titans?
Did Jason really wear a Robin costume?
Did Jason slit Tim's throat or call him replacement?
Did Jason actually break Tim's bo staff?
Was Tim crying or scared?
Did Jason write a message on the wall in Tim's blood?
Did Jason's eyes glow green?/Did he follow pit rage mechanics?
Panels and details below. This is a LONG one.
What did Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?
Dialogue in fanfiction during the Titans Tower attack varies based on what kind of fic you're reading but usually its either 'time to clip Replacement's wings' if its staying a beatdown whump 'or oh no precious lil bby why is no one watching you' if its an accidental child acquisition. Not judging either option, but this ain't about them its about the real shit.
Look at these opening lines:
Hey, Tim. I was here first.You're the Red Hood. You've been cleaning up Gotham the easy way. Easy? What do you know about easy, Tim? You had a father that looked after you. You went to a private school, right? You slept in a bed. I slept on the streets, I lived in the alleyways in Gotham. Trying to survive. Until Bruce took me in. I trained as hard as I could. I did whatever he asked. . . at least at first. But it didn't matter. They said I wasn't tough enough to be robin. But today, they say you are. Show me, Tim. Show me what you have that I didn't.
Jason really puts himself out there in all of his dialogue in this encounter, the struggle of having to fight for anything and everything he got in life, even the things that came to everyone else for free, and then being told he wasn't even good enough for the things he fought for.
There's a trope in fanfics that if Jason knew Tim stalked Batman and forced his way into being Robin that it would change how Jason felt about the situation but that's even addressed in this comic:
You were a kid, worried about how Batman was spiraling down into darkness. You spent weeks tracking the dark knight. Solving a mystery no one else could. You discovered who he was behind that mask. Millionaire Bruce Wayne. You were so pleased with yourself, I'm sure that you forgot who you were really dealing with. I know Bruce Wayne. And let me tell you, Tim if someone was trying to find out who Batman really was. If someone was stalking him for weeks. He'd know about it. You can't be that good. I am. He let you find him. And I bet he said the same thing to you as he did to me, didn't he? That you had a talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light to his darkness. Robin, the Boy Wonder.
Tim saying 'I am' is really such a moment that doesn't come through in text because he is right that he really did do that but I also completely understand why Jason wouldn't believe it.
TBH my favorite part is how done Tim honestly sounds with Jason thoughout all his trauma dumping. Like imagine a grown man who used to work the same part time job as you breaking into your house, dressing up in your work uniform, ranting about how much the job ruined his life while he beats your ass??? God, and he probably had to write a fucking report about it after. RIP Timmy.
What do you want? Do you want to be Robin again? Is that it? You... want to take it away from me? Why in the hell would I ever want that? Don't you get it? When I died no one cared! No one remembered me. Are you completely insane? No one could forget you. I've spent my entire career wearing this mask under your shadow. I had to convince Batman to let me try this. All because he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to you. You ask me, that's the only reason he hasn't taken you down. He's holding back. But me? No freakin' way. That's the Robin I wanted to see. Still. You do realize the whole idea of training a teenager to fight against something he'll never eradicate is a mistake. It didn't even surprise anyone when I died. When I failed. I failed-- but I'm still beating you. Do you think you're that good now?! Do you really, Tim? Yes.
Tim bashing Jason across the face as he says 'no freakin' way'? *chefs kiss*
Jason drugging the other Titans to knock them out?
Little bit true, Kory was actually just already away from the tower and BB and Cyborg were about to bounce because of the drama going on with Donna's return but Jason like super tazes them and then drugs Raven who he thought already went through enough shit without him knocking her out violently.
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Note: Jason says in the text here that he never rolled with Cyborg or BB but like he actually did in some comics so?? The continuity is lie I guess idk.
Did he show up in Red Hood gear or a Robin costume?
Both tbh but he spent most of the time in the Robin costume but bro actually made a stripper rip away version of his Red Hood gear so he could dramatically reveal the Robin costume underneath. I can't believe no one ever includes that in their fics its so fucking funny.
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Does he call Tim 'replacement' or slit his throat?
No, this came from a Batman comic with Hush not Teen Titans. That incident takes place in a graveyard not Titans Tower and he calls Tim pretender not replacement.
Does Jason break Tim's staff?
Tragically, no. The bo staff snap would have been iconic. Instead he just takes Tim's staff and beats Tim up with it and breaks stuff. BUT!! He uses it to bust a statue in the TITANS MEMORIAL ROOM which is a place in Titans Tower just for having statues of dead previous titans and Jason is rightfully pissed he didn't get one. Like Tim is correct in saying no one forgot him still but like I would be hurt too if all my friends made cool statues of friends that died and then just left my zombie ass out, like wtf.
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Note: I am seriously losing my shit that I have never seen someone bring up the memorial room in a fanfic. That is so much angst material. 😭
Tim crying/ being scared?
Hell no. He's a fucking Robin you know he's being a sassy boy the whole time, even towards the end when he's about done he's still saying he's her and I love Tim for that.
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Note: There are a few different times where Tim does a flippy Robin move and then Jason just fucking copies it like flexing that he can do it too, and its just so petty and stupid he's trying so hard to be better than an actual child. 💀I get why in the context of the situation but its still so ridiculous.
Message on the wall in Tim's blood?
TBH I really don't know for sure on this one?? Like its implied that he did but Tim isn't bleeding all that much throughout this beatdown and like we don't see Jason do it just the Titans reacting to seeing it after. It could be Tim's blood, it could be red paint, and it could even be that Jason packed an actual bucket of blood to bring with him to write a message with after he finished. TBH the world is your oyster on this one.
Note: If anyone can find another comic where this event was brought up where they actually clarify it was Tim's blood hmu and I'll update this but I couldn't find any.
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Pit rage/ glowing green eyes?
Fanon only at this point in the comics. Jason is seems to be himself and even thinks Tim and his friends are pretty cool at the end, and he's just like reflecting on if he had good friends if he would have turned out better as he leaves.
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royalarchivist · 7 days
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Phil: That's crazy– by the way, what's up with you FCKIN THREATENING Missa? Get those cat ears off.
Bad: What the fudge are you talking about? I would never do that! Threaten someone? That's crazy!
Phil: I literally have– I literally have a note from him that says... uh hold on, let me find it. Let me find it, where is it. Sht, I lost it.
Bad: Read the note? What does it say.
Phil: [Grumbling] I lost it.
Bad: You have a lot of penguins by the way, you should really do something about that.
Phil: [Grumbles] I don't know where I put the note. [Laughs]
Bad: [Trying not to laugh] Well, if the note doesn't exist... I guess it wasn't real!
Phil: Shut up! [Laughs] Alright, here it is, here it is. [To Tubbo] CAN YOU STOP?! Oh my god, Toby! Holy sht, alright.
Bad: He wants more, Tubbo!
Phil: Here here here, look. [Reading Missa's book] "Don't trust Badboyhalo, he killed some rabbits I worked with some raccoons and he killed those guys too. I'm so scared, please help, holy molly canoli. He threatened me. Take care of our beautiful eggs, I don't want to put you guys in danger." You threatened– you threatened Missa.
Bad: That's crazy, I didn't know Missa wrote fanfiction! That's crazy. What a crazy story!
Phil: [Phil punches him] I'm so done with your sht. [Laughs] I'm so done with—
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nutmeggery · 8 months
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I need Neil Gaiman to know that Good Omens 2 made me feel emotions I haven't felt in nearly a decade.
When I heard there was going to be a Good Omens 2 I was looking forward to it, of course. I just wasn't expecting it do anything super special to my emotions. I was sure I'd enjoy it, though. I really enjoyed s1.
But, for the last few years, I watched shows and afterwards basically thought well, that was fun, and I quickly moved on and didn't think much about them. There was only about 3 shows in the last 5 years that had made me feel truly emotional and stayed on my mind to the point where I felt like I needed to engage in fandom for a while. (Good Omens 1 was one of them.)
I wasn't spoiled by the leak. I never even knew there was a leak. So I had no idea what was coming in s2. And oh boy...
See, I'd watched Our Flag Means Death, a show where you don't expect the lead characters to kiss, because, well, that never happens in these types of shows, right? And this is important because when they did kiss, it felt like a door that had been locked with just about all the high security locks in the world had suddenly, inexplicably, been opened. Something switched inside me. It took me months to understand what it was, but when I thought about Good Omens before s2 came out, I realized what it was.
I would never truly enjoy a bromance they're-only-queer/in love-by-your-own-interpreation story ever again. Stories where nothing is confirmed, just subtext that anyone who doesn't want to see it can easily deny and mock those who wish it was more.
While it was clear that Crowley and Aziraphale cared a lot about each other in s1, and were probably in love, it was still just a fun ship for fans to play with in fanfiction and fanart. Do they love each other? Oh sure. In what way? Well, that's up to interpretation. Ok, cool. But it's not quite Our Flag Means Death, is it?
Then I watched Good Omens 2. And from episode 1 I saw my favourite Angel and Demon duo love each other. And I was having the best time. I hadn't had such a good time watching a show in a long while. It was not only right up my alley, it was an alley I wasn't even aware was my alley until I saw it. I enjoyed seeing the old characters, the new characters. Oh, I was wonderful.
It was clear to me that, of course Crowley and Aziraphale love each other, are IN love with each other, showing it in their own way. And I wasn't expecting it to be THIS obvious.
And then when the kiss happened, I couldn't believe it. I covered my mouth with both hands and gasped and sat up straight in my seat. I had never expected it--the heartbreak it added to the already heartbreaking scene--it rewired something inside me.
It was like my emotions had been locked up in a stall like a horse for so, so long, and now the gate had been opened, the stable door kicked down, and the horse was running out onto the large pasture into the daylight, bucking and kicking up grass. Oh my god, I have to take a few minutes to process that entire 6 hour marathon of emotions.
And by a few minutes I meant a few days.
More than a few, actually.
I didn't need a kiss to understand how much they loved each other, but I did need the kiss to understand how intense and heartbreaking their separation is for them after everything.
But more than that, the kiss broke a barrier. They really did it, I thought. They really dared.
Aziraphale and Crowley aren't human males, no, but they're played by male actors. And that is significant. That makes the kiss significant. In the world we currently live in.
Weeks later, I'm still obsessed with the show, re-watching s1 and 2, reading the book again, listening to the audio drama. And I'm on tumblr, seeing people's posts and art to somehow sate my hunger for a s3 that doesn't exist (yet).
And I'm having a wonderful time.
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veganineden · 9 months
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On the Evolution of “Happily Ever After” and Why “Nothing Lasts Forever”
A reflection inspired by Good Omens 2
One of my favorite Tumblr posts on the second season of Good Omens 2 was actually not about the series at all, but our reaction to it, primarily the ending. @zehwulf wrote, “I think a lot of us—myself included—got a little too comfortable with assuming [Aziraphale and Crowley would] work on their issues right away post-Armageddon.” We did the work for them through meta, fanfiction, fanart, and building a plethora of headcanons. Who among us AO3-surfing fans didn’t read and love Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm?
In the 4 long years since season one was released, we did more than seek to understand and repair rifts between two fictional beings: we were forced to reckon with ourselves too. We faced a global pandemic, suffered traumatizing losses and isolation, and were forced to really and truly look into the face of our atrocities-ridden and capitalistic world. The mainstream rise of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Justice work, and our participation in this work, showed us that the systems in place were built to oppress and harm most of us, and they are. 
So, what does this have to do with the evolution of “happily ever after”? 
My friend put it best in a conversation we had following the season finale, when she pointed out a shift in media focus. The “happy end” in old stories about wars and kingdoms used to be “we killed the evil old king and put a noble young king in his place and now citizens can live in peace” and we’re transitioning into a period of “we tore down the whole fucking monarchy.” 
If we look at season one, written to follow the beats of a love story, it comforted us by offering a pretty traditional happy ending pattern: you get your fancy dinner with your special someone, the romantic music plays, and you have a place to call your own. Season one’s finale provided a temporary freedom for Aziraphale and Crowley, the “breathing room,” but it didn't solve the problem that was Heaven and Hell, or the agendas belonging to those systems of oppression. 
Is it good enough to keep our heads down, pretend the bad stuff isn’t happening, and live our own personal happy endings until we die? Moral quandaries aside, if you don't die (or if you care about the generations after you), then, like Aziraphale said, it “can’t last forever.” There’s a clear unpleasant end to the “happily ever after” that’s based on ignoring our problems– it’s the destruction of our relationships, and humanity. 
Ineffable Bureaucracy can go off into the stars because they do not care about humanity. 
You know who does?
Aziraphale. 
And Aziraphale knows that Crowley cares about humanity too. (He knows because Crowley was the one who proposed sabotaging Armageddon in the first place, who only invited him to the stars when he thought all was lost, because Crowley would save humanity if he thought it was possible, and Aziraphale knows Crowley has survived losing Everything before, and he will do all in his power so that Crowley does not need to experience that again.) 
In season one and two, we see how much they care about humanity, beyond their orders, to the point The Systems begin to frown at them. Aziraphale hears Crowley’s offer to run away together in the final episode of season two, to leave Earth behind, and just like the first time that offer was made in season one, he declines. He knows choosing only “us” is not a choice either of them can live with for the rest of eternity.
I believe season 3 will provide an opportunity to “dismantle the system,” but I don’t know how it will play out. I worry that Aziraphale has put himself in the now-dead trope of the “young noble king.” (I wish Crowley had told him why Gabriel was dismissed from his duties.) I worry that he would martyr himself as a sole agent for change. I worry that he doesn’t actually know how to dismantle anything by himself: because you can’t. He needs Crowley. He DOES. He needs Crowley, and Muriel, and other angels and demons and humans without fixed mindsets to help him. Only by learning to listen and making room at the table for all can they (and we) move past personal satisfaction to collective liberation. 
Crowley was right when he said that Aziraphale had discovered his “civic obligations.”
So, I think we will get our modern-day happy ending– and it’s going to involve a lot of pain and discomfort, communication, healing and teamwork– and in the end, it’ll all be okay. There will be a time for rest and a time for “us.” 
And most likely a cottage. 
“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”
 - Maya Angelou
Support the SAG-AFTRA strike and other unions. Trust @neil-gaiman. Register to vote if you haven’t yet. Hold yourself and others accountable with compassion. Read books. Keep doing the work. Rest. Then watch Good Omens 2 again.  
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pufflehuffing · 4 months
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Courting rules in the 1890's and Hogwarts students
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Courting: be involved with (someone) romantically, with the intention of marrying.
I love reading time accurate fanfiction and decided to delve into the courting rules of Victorian England, more specifically the late 1800's. I twisted some rules to add my personal interpretation of how these habits would work for Hogwarts students. This post is specifically about courting, not casual dating. Please keep in mind that the 1890's weren't as progressive as the 2020's while reading and that this discusses middle- and working-class families. This post will probably be subject to additions when I learn even more about Victorian England.
English isn't my native language so I hope the grammar isn't too bad? Let me know!
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Meeting someone new.
Typically, teenagers were allowed by their families to begin courting between the ages of 16 to 18, though their education always came first. Girls were taught at home by their mothers to prepare meals and take care of the household. Boys were taught to work with their fathers at home or at the local workshops so they knew how to handle enterprise. During the summer months, Hogsmeade had more soon-to-be sixth-years working the shops than the actual owners.
In September, sixth-years were taught sexual education by the school nurse. She was aided by the potions professor, who taught the girls how to brew a simple contraceptive. Boys were taught their valuable role in society, and how important it was that they did not court multiple girls at a time. It was the boy who had to make a move, so to speak. Victorian women had a more helpless image than they do today, seen as delicate flowers who needed men to take charge.
A girl who was kind, patient, benevolent, peaceful, charitable, and caregiving, was worth pursuing. Girls were to pursue boys who possessed the ability to speak with ease, respect, and courtesy to all, a neat appearance, excellent manners and respect for all women.
The two sexes didn't mingle much. Students would often stay within their own circle, only befriending peers in their own house and classes. The only times that Hogwarts students really had time to meet someone new was during their walks in the hallways, study time in the library or on their trips to Hogsmeade. Therefore, students would often join extracurricular clubs to widen their circle like Quidditch, the school choir, the Astronomy club, Crossed Wands, etc.
Students taking Defense Against The Dark Arts were to follow rules when dueling with the other sex. Boys weren't permitted to use Depulso or other blasting charms at their female peers unless specifically asked for by the professor as it was ungentlemanly to launch a female into a stack of crates without reason.
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Dating and falling in love.
If he perceived that she was interested, and he was confident that his position in life and circumstances were sufficient to allow him to proceed, a boy took the next step — sending an owl to the girl's father (or his next-in-line if he had died or was absent from the family) to ask permission to pay a visit to their home. In this letter, he stated his position and prospects, and mentioned his family, as well as his blood status and house. Boys would often pen down what electives they were taking and which profession they would like to pursue after graduation. The letter's envelope would be sealed with a wax stamp of the boy's house or family crest.
Families played a crucial role in the courting process. Parents often had a say in their children's relationships, and the approval of both families was considered important.
If the father of the girl had approved of the young boy, courtship could commence. Most courtship was conducted exclusively in public places and always in the company of a chaperone. Note that I'm discussing romantic and not platonic relationships. Girls and boys were allowed to spend time together alone platonically, under the clear pretence they weren't courting.
The lovers weren't officially allowed to give their suitor any gifts without her parents being present during the exchange. Though it wasn't uncommon for boarding school students to hide lockets under their pillows and dried flowers in their journals, hoping the house-elves wouldn't find them. Flowers, fruit and non-explosive candy from Honeydukes were allowed to be given without supervision, as their perishable nature implied no greater enduring memorials.
With the many rules society put on courting teenagers, love letters were one way to escape the prim and proper manner at which they conversed. Love letters were considered sacred and sincere testaments to a couple’s love; such intimate correspondence was regarded with respect and a deep sense of privacy. A family member would never open a daughter’s or sister’s love letter. Upon receiving an owl she were to retire to her room to read its contents in private.
Often times girls would scent their letters with their perfume and moving portraits were popular attachments. Photography wasn't popularized in working-class families until the next century, yet witches quickly gossiped about conjuration spells that allowed them to take small polaroids of themselves. Boys would attach the dried flowers I mentioned earlier. The more experienced wizard could include a conjured paper butterfly or bird.
Staying at Hogwarts, students weren't allowed in the other gender's dormitories, so they resorted to explicit portraits and sneaky snogs in the Astronomy Tower or the Muggle Studies classroom. Gifting each other their scarf was a discreet way of "claiming" each other, though it was considered improper by the professors.
After having learned the disillusionment and silencing charms, teenagers were very eager to master Evanesco.
The more cunning wizards and witches of Hogwarts would sneak into the Restricted Section of the school's library to look for Muggle books that contained erotica in order to spice up their love letters and late-night encounters.
If allowed by her family, male students would accompany their date to the Yule Ball. They were instructed to never lose sight of her there and to not drink any alcohol in her presence. The couple was also required to arrive in separate carriages and left the event separately before midnight. The boy would walk his lover to her carriage or to her chaperone and bow his head to say goodnight.
As graduation approached, boys who were in the process of courting were sat down by their father figure who explained the importance of marriage. The boy was expected to start thinking of proposing to his lover.
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Getting engaged.
Though courtships were short and often only lasted less than a year, engagements were commonly much longer, and usually lasted several years. This was especially the case for working-class couples, as they had to work to save money for the marriage.
Though boys were allowed to ask their girlfriends for their eternal love via an owl, it was much more proper to do so in person. It wasn't permitted to propose marriage with a ring, though they were often obligated by the families to officiate the engagement with one.
After the couple decided to get married, the boy was supposed to visit his future wife's house often. Visits were often made in the evening and when he came over, he needed to pay attention to everyone in the family, not just his fiancée. The goal was to slowly win over the family's affection, especially the girl's mother.
Engagement rings were a means of showing a boy's wealth. If he had worked at the workshops or had inherited some Galleons from his family, he could gift his lover a more intricately designed one. Rings ranged from a simple band to a collection of carved initials and differing gems.
Rings weren't often gifted to boys from their girlfriend, though if her fortune permitted it, she could have a custom wand handle made for him.
Gift giving became more frequent amongst the lovers, as did penning love letters, since the couple would be spending more time apart to work and earn money. Gifts were allowed to be given in private now too. Lockets were often (officially now) exchanged with a small enchanted cloud inside. The light represented the giver's mood: red meant anger, blue meant sadness, pink meant in love, green meant happy. A bewitched bouquet or a self-writing quill could also be thoughtful presents.
Once the couple got engaged, they were officially allowed to get closer to each other physically. No couple had the nerve to tell their parents they had probably already kissed and perhaps spent the night in their lover's dormitory already, and that they snuck out just before the prefects and house elves would catch them. Nevertheless, they were now officially allowed to go for walks by themselves, hold hands in public, and take rides without anyone accompanying them. They could also share a hug, a sweet kiss, or hold hands publicly now.
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pagodazz · 2 months
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Emh fans when they're asked to stop sexualizing Evan Jennings and his characters because it makes him and his wife uncomfortable:
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hope y'all are so happy with yourself for going against his wishes and being fucking freaks to him. You're all why he's barely online anymore. you cannot behave and you cannot be normal and you all have ruined what could be a very fun fandom.
Everyone in this fandom sees Evan as a piece of meat basically, you all only care about his character because Evan is a good looking guy. I mean!! let's be real here!!! let me quiz you on the lore!!! let me see just how fucking much you know about ALL the characters. let me see how much you ACTUALLY give a shit. Because all any of you do is post about how attractive you find Evan/habit and it's honestly so annoying.
I'm not saying you can't compliment him??? or appreciate his looks?? but drawing him in sexually compromising positions, writing in great detail about what you want him to do to you (PUBLICLY. no one gives a SHIT what you fucking do in private.) Or you're fucking mixing up habit and Evan, and just acting like you know his story when CLEARLY the most of you have watched habit compilations on YouTube and NOTHING else.
You cannot even convince me otherwise because I deal with people coming in my comments all the time asking about BASIC INFORMATION. like IF YOU DON'T KNOW THE PRINCETON TAPES ????? WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK????? YOU NEED THAT FOR THE SERIES. YOU CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO UNDERSTAND HALF THE THINGS WITHOUT IT???????
This isn't saying you can't write fanfiction or shit like that this is JUST SAYING BE RESPECTFUL?????? these slenderverse actors ARE NOT A LIST CELEBRITIES. they're not like fucking Oscar Isaac or whoever people are obsessed with right now. THEY'RE NOT FAMOUS. THIS IS NICHE. THIS IS NOT POPULAR MEDIA 😭😭😭😭
Emh literally made NO money from their series, they didn't create it to gain anything like that. they created something fun and NOW YOU ALL ARE THE REASON THEY HAVE NO PART IN THIS FANDOM ANYMORE.
you robbed them of being able to love their creation and I hope you're all happy about that honestly because it seems like this fandom is only gonna get worse in this area. and I'm deeply disappointed.
edit: I would like to add one thing, Vincent caffarello had to deal with situations of extreme sexualization as well, and his got to the point to where he had to leave. Vinnie used to be very involved with the fandom, he even used to read fanfic which he had to stop doing because people would be writing characters to SEXUALLY ASSAULT HIM or others and he just couldn't continue to read things like that. He delt with minors sending him explicit photos and messages and that's literally all kinds of FUCKED UP. He did NOT want to be involved with that stuff.
It's like when Evan had someone impersonate him to try to get with minors. THESE PEOPLE ARE NOT OBJECTS FOR YOU TO SEEK OUT PLEASURE WITH. THEY ARE PEOPLE.
they are HUMAN.
if they were women?? would you be doing this as much??? or would you realize how messed up it really is.
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melodygatesauthor · 7 months
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Then I Saw You
Basil Stitt X f!Reader
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Beta Read By: @xbellaxcarolinax - Using prompts by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, a few Nonnies, and my own ideas.
PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!
Summary
You moved in next door to Basil Stitt two weeks after his incident. After everyone he cared about ignored his calls and acted like he didn't exist, he was starved for affection, and your pretty voice caught his attention immediately. He decided he'd do just about anything to have you all for himself...anything.
Tags/Warnings
Disclaimers: There is heavy non-con in this fic, it's not for everyone. If you're sensitive to that sort of thing in fanfiction, please keep on scrolling thanks.
NSFW, non-con, rape, sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, masturbation, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, breeding kink if you REALLY squint, non-consensual somnophilia, drugged sex, non-consensual drug use, minor mention of suicide but NO actual death or implied death in fic, also me making some shit up like how peepholes work, neighbor!Reader, dark fic, dark Basil Stitt. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)
Word Count: 9.8k
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Basil saw the moving truck outside when it pulled up by the curb. Two men got out, opened up the back, and started to bring someone’s belongings inside. His apartment was only one of the two on his floor. The old man across the hall went to a nursing home a couple of weeks ago…was he getting a new neighbor? Sure enough, he heard them opening the door across from his and moving things inside.
He looked around at his living space, a disgusting mess of old pizza boxes, empty alcohol bottles, and his broken belongings. No doubt he’d need to get a better handle on his outbursts. He’d already received a notice from the landlord with all the banging and shouting the person living below him had dealt with. Depending on the kind of person the new neighbor would be, he might get more than just a warning if they heard him being too rambunctious.
That’s when he heard your voice, a sweet thing that crept under the gap between his door and the hardwood floor that he was likely to lose his security deposit for after destroying it. He ran to the peephole, looking through the lens and seeing you for the first time. 
His heart felt like it stopped beating. His entire body shook as he pressed his palm to the door. You were…beautiful.
“What the fuck…” he whispered to himself, as you walked into your apartment. “W-what the…” he stepped away from the door, “fuck.”
The second your door opened again he was pinned to his own, his good eye glued back at the peephole to get a glimpse of you. He whined, seeing your pretty smile as you handed the movers some money. Why were you smiling at them like that? Basil paused. Why did he care?
Maybe it was that you sounded, and looked, so nice. His calls to his girlfriend had still been unanswered, and the same could be said for his parents. You looked like someone who would care about him. Someone who could look past…
No.
Despite wanting to stare at you longer, he stepped in front of his mirror instead. There was no way you would be able to stomach looking at someone like him. He touched the reddened, rippled deformity on the left side of his face. An overwhelming dread poured into his chest, making him feel heavy with sorrow. How could anyone love him? His own mother couldn’t even be bothered to speak to him, even after all the voicemails he left.
“Yeah absolutely, I’d love that,” you giggled in the hall.
You’d love what? Basil thought, rushing to the door once again to see who had you feeling so upbeat.
You had a piece of paper in your hand. He didn’t like how one of the movers was smiling and looking at you. Was he flirting with you? Basil’s hand reached for the door handle, but he stopped. What was his plan? Was he going to walk out there, someone you’d never seen or met before in your life, and just tell the guy to fuck off?
In a perfect world…yes.
He’d step out there, no paper bag on, and tell the man off. Basil imagined you’d be so enamored with his actions that you’d kiss him, smiling at him the way you were smiling at the mover right now. You’d touch his cheek and look at him as though his face were normal, like it was just a couple of short weeks ago. Your lips looked so soft.
Basil whined, pressing his entire body against the door, cock rubbing between the wood and his abdomen. He saw you go into your apartment again, closing the door behind yourself. Over the next couple of hours he sat in front of the door, waiting…listening for your voice. All he heard was the sound of the movers going in and out, until finally there was nothing.
He stood there in the still of the silence, breathing slowly and trying to contain himself. He thought about opening his door again and knocking on yours, introducing himself as any good neighbor would. His breath hitched in his throat when he considered your reaction though. What if you saw his face…
What if you saw the monster he’d become?
“No, no, no…” he shouted, feeling emotionally overwhelmed at the thought of your rejection.
He would rather spend his life watching you through his peephole than risk your outright denial of him. At least in his mind, he could think up a million fantasies where you loved him, let him take you on a beautiful date, and where you were pinned underneath him, screaming his name while he made you come over and over again.
He was still so fucking hard. He needed you to step out of your apartment. He needed you now. Just the sound of your voice would do something for him. If he could just hear it, just a little bit, it was all he needed. He slowly opened the door and stepped into the hall, ensuring no one was there. He walked up to your door, looking through the lens to see if he could get a glimpse of you.
You walked by, and he thought he might collapse. You’d changed into something more comfortable, a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top. As you should, it was rather warm that day. You deserved to be comfortable, perhaps even naked. Basil’s thoughts consumed him as he watched you bending over to open a box, pulling some things out, and disappearing from view. How lucky he was that you put those boxes right there by the door.
His hands gripped the doorframe tightly, and he rutted his hips involuntarily against the door. His whole body shook, watching you move so freely around your new home. He wondered what would happen if he just walked in and took you while you were bent over in a box. Your pussy was right there, hiding behind such a thin layer of fabric. Surely it would be easy to just…
He bit his lip so hard he tasted iron, rolling his cock faster against the door. His breathing was labored, needy, and desperate for you. Basil knew he wasn’t good enough for you, but you might like him if you just gave him a chance. He could thrust into your wet, velvety heat and make you scream out like it was the best thing you’d ever felt. Or maybe you’d cry out in terror because no one wants to fuck a monster.
He let out a low growl, feeling his cock ache while it leaked in his pants. You’d heard the sound, stopping what you were doing to turn and face the door. 
That was it. 
That was all he needed to see before he lost it. His body shook against the door while a soft whimper left his lips. Hot cum spilled out through his clothes, leaving a wet streak on the wood he’d been rutting against. He sighed, finally feeling some sense of satisfying relief. Even after all the nights he’d spent palming his own release, he’d never felt so good. 
You did this to him. 
He had to move, looking into the peephole to see that you were coming closer. Basil darted from your door, opening his quickly and locking himself inside silently. He didn’t want you to know he was there. He couldn’t let you know he was there. He couldn’t let you see his fucking face.
----
It only took him a few days to get your schedule figured out. 
In the morning when you left - he presumed for work - you were dressed so nicely. He would’ve followed you but, on account of his horrific deformity, he couldn’t. So he settled for what little bits of you he could. He loved it most when you’d come home, tired from the day and retreating to your apartment so he could sneak over to your door and peek at you.
He would only allow himself a few moments of watching before his conscience forced him back to his own place where he would fuck his fist raw, passing out on the couch. Everything was fine, and he could see himself doing things that way forever, until it wasn’t enough anymore.
He needed more. 
Basil found a gift card to a coffee shop up the road that he knew only had a dollar and some change left on it, and made his way to your door late one night about a week after you’d moved in. You were already in bed, at least, he assumed you were. It was two in the morning and he couldn’t hear a sound coming from your apartment. Basil stuck the card in between the frame and the door, wiggling very slowly so as not to make a lot of noise.
Click.
When your door opened slowly, he felt his heart fluttering wildly. This was it. This was the moment that he finally would get to see you. He stepped slowly, sock-covered feet treading silently over your floor. Your apartment was laid out exactly the same as his only mirrored, making it easy for him to get to your bedroom. He stopped when he got to the doorway though. There was a mirror on the wall to his right.
Turning to see his appearance, he lost all confidence. The grotesque creature looking back grounded him. He couldn’t go in there, not like that. What if you woke up? Maybe if he was still attractive he could make you understand why he was there, standing over you and watching you sleep, but not like the way he looked now. If he tried that now, you’d scream, calling him a freak, or a monster. He couldn’t risk hearing such horrid words coming out of such a pretty mouth, so he backed away.
“Another day…I’ll see you another day then,” he whispered with a soft cry leaving his lips. “Goodbye.”
On his way out, he stopped when his foot landed on something unexpected on your living room floor. He reached down, feeling something soft in his hands. He knew immediately what he was holding, but he brought it to the dim light coming through the window from the moonlit sky to look at it anyway. They were black, made with delicate lace…your panties.
----
Basil stared at your panties on his bed for at least two hours. He hadn’t smelled them yet because he wanted to pace himself. He wanted to savor them, enjoy them as long as he could before he had to steal another pair. Deep down he hoped they would fix him; that they’d be enough to satisfy the unquenchable thirst you seemed to fill him with. At the same time, he knew deep down that this was likely only the beginning of what would become something very, very, dark.
Taking the delicate fabric in his hands, he brought them to his face, rubbing the place that touched your cunt along his nostrils and inhaling so deep he thought he might faint. He shuddered, falling back and catching himself on his desk. He moaned, feeling them against his face once more.
“Fuck, fuck baby…” he whined, breath coming out in a ragged pant.
His tongue darted out, dragging along the place where your flavor was most potent. He whimpered, squeezing the desk so hard his knuckles ached. He licked again. You tasted too good, so delicious he thought he might die if he never got his mouth on the real thing.
Basil’s elbow brushed against the handle on the knife he’d stabbed into his desk multiple times. He snatched it up, holding it and turning it in his hand, letting the moonlight shine off the metal. He could see his mattress just over the edge, and had - what he thought was - a brilliant idea. His cock ached, and it was your fault. Once again he needed to satisfy his urges because you wouldn’t.
He stormed over to the bed, knife in hand, before stabbing a hole deep into the center, making sure it was big enough to take him. He didn’t even know where the knife landed when he threw it to the other side of his apartment, and he didn’t care. Basil wrapped your panties around his pillow before hastily removing his pants, hands shaking in the process. He’d never felt so fucking desperate.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost convince himself that the stuffing in the mattress was a good substitute for your beautiful pussy. It wasn’t, nothing would ever be a good enough substitute for you, but this wasn’t too bad. He slid himself in all the way, body shaking at the sensation as the cotton moved aside for him. Basil buried his face into your panties, taking in your smell some more, and licking them to breathe in your taste.
The bed rocked against the floor, probably loud enough to piss off the occupant of the apartment below him. He didn’t fucking care, he was busy.
“Mm, that’s it, baby, you feel so fucking good,” he whispered the words he wished he could say to you. “So tight, you’ve been waiting for someone like me to come stretch you out hm? Fuck.”
He wondered if you’d like the way he sounded when he was grinding into you. Would you like listening to his hungry moans and low growls? What about when he whimpered and whined? He always thought he sounded a little pathetic, but would you judge him for it? He couldn’t help it, when the pleasure overwhelmed him he had to vocalize it.
“Honey, you’re so sweet,” he kissed your panties, imagining that you’d squirm for him when he did. “Such a pretty little pussy.”
He was good with his tongue, he knew you’d like it if you’d just let him have you. There wasn’t a man alive that would spend hours with his tongue flicking over that swollen little clit until you were nearly pissing yourself from overstimulation, not the way Basil would. No one could love you the way he would.
His drool made your panties wet, the taste and smell already mixing with his own while he fucked the hole in his mattress sloppily. He got louder, practically yelling in a loud rasp while he mouthed at his pillow.
“You’re so good, s-so g-good.” His voice became heavier, deeper, more like a low, feral growl as his climax closed in.
Basil’s body stopped with his cock buried to the hilt inside the mattress. His body trembled and shook while he pumped shot after shot of hot sticky cum into the cotton. He was practically screaming, face buried into the pillow to muffle the sounds. His mind went blank, except for your face. He felt his cock twitching, emptying every bit it could into the damn mattress.
It was just a fucking mattress.
Basil’s heavy breathing slowed and eventually turned to sobs. He held the pillow close, crying into it, soaking the fabric with his tears. What kind of loser fucks a mattress? He thought to himself, feeling his cock getting soft inside the hole he’d made.
----
Basil woke the next morning with his drool adhering your panties to his scarred cheek. His cock was dried with cum to the hole in his mattress. He groaned, feeling like he’d had the night of his life…only to quickly realize that he looked like a pathetic mess that his own mother couldn’t even bring herself to love. He’d fucked his mattress.
What kind of loser…
His thoughts trailed off before he could finish repeating the sentiment of the night before. He peeled his face off the pillow and winced in pain while pulling his dick out of the bed. He heard your voice in the hall, calling him like a siren song to his peephole. He looked out there, and you were standing in the hall laughing with your phone to your ear.
“Yeah you can pick me up at seven, that would be great,” you said as you disappeared out of view.
“The moving man…” Basil said to himself, turning away from the door and running both hands through his hair with his eyes wide, his anger building.
He saw himself in the mirror again, face dropping as he was reminded of his disgusting appearance. His hair was everywhere, cock limp and just hanging there like a sad, pathetic thing. His shirt had pizza sauce stains all over, and discoloration under the armpits. In a moment - a very short moment - of clarity, Basil realized that even if he did manage to get you to move on from the scar, he wouldn’t be able to impress you looking, and smelling, the way he did. 
“Alright, you’re going on a fucking date with some fucking loser huh?” He said, feeling the pain ripping through his chest. “Let me show you what you’re missing!”
He showered, feeling clean for the first time since the incident. When he stepped out of the shower, he noticed the good side of his face for the first time in over two weeks. The way the steam covered the mirror, only the unblemished side was visible. He touched it, feeling comfort in the fact that he could pretend for a moment that he was normal, that everything was normal.
He turned the hot water in his bathroom sink on, keeping the mirror steamed up while he took his razor blade and shaving cream out of the cabinet. He had to keep wiping the mirror so he could see himself, and that was probably why he nicked his cheek a little. He cursed, finishing the shave and then holding a small bit of toilet paper to the wound. As if he needed more deformities on his face.
Once composed, Basil walked out to his living room, realizing finally what a mess it was. He couldn’t possibly bring you in there with it looking like that. And he was going to bring you in there one way or another.
It took him all day to get his apartment back to a, somewhat, normal state. Basil had to push through several mood swings in the process, fantasizing about how impressed you would be, complimenting how nice his place was, and reality creeping its way into his mind and reminding him that you were going on a date tonight…
A knock on his door forced all the thoughts to a stop. Who the fuck was knocking on his door? He hadn’t bought pizza or groceries. The new mattress he ordered wasn’t expected until next week. Basil walked up to his peephole, peering through only to nearly collapse when he saw you. He stepped away from the door as if it were made of hot coals.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. His body immediately started trembling. “Um…I can’t come to the door right now!”
“Oh!” He held his chest when you spoke. You were speaking to him. “Well that’s okay, I just wanted to leave you some cookies.” You chuckled softly. “I honestly didn’t even realize I had a neighbor until I heard you playing some cool music yesterday.”
“C-cool music?” 
Basil was still so in shock that you were even speaking to him that he’d forgotten how inconsiderate he’d been yesterday afternoon. He remembered playing music so loudly it probably could be heard by you and the downstairs neighbor.
“I’m sorry if it was annoying, I’ll keep it down next–”
“No it’s alright! I actually like it!” You couldn’t be that perfect, you couldn’t be. “Well, I hope you like chocolate chip, I’ll leave them here! I’m not the best cook but I tried.”
Your little giggle would be the death of him. 
“I would like anything you made for me…” He said softly as he was struggling to breathe.
“What did you say?”
He cleared his throat, “I um…thank you so much I’m sure they’re great.”
“Okay well, have a good day! Maybe I’ll see you another time.”
With that, you were gone, and Basil’s knees felt so weak he had to sit on the floor. You talked to him. You fucking talked to him. You really did like him. You must have liked him, why else would you have come to his door and left him such a nice gift?
Basil waited by his door until he was sure you were gone before opening it and pulling the cookies inside. They were still warm, you must’ve just made them and waited for them to cool off before bringing them to his door. He held one in his hand, turning it around to decide which side to bite first. He finally bit into it, feeling the sweet flavor fill his mouth, forcing a smile over his lips.
You made those for him. 
Basil ate too many cookies, and with the pang of despair rushing through him periodically at the thought of you going on a date in just an hour, he found himself with his head in the toilet bowl, vomiting uncontrollably. He groaned into the bowl, beginning to cry in frustration. He couldn’t keep himself together. You deserved to go on that date with someone else, someone who wouldn’t flush the delicious gift you brought them because they didn’t know how to establish self-control.
Your door opened at 6:55pm on the dot. Basil was, of course, watching you. He felt his cock aching immediately at the sight of you in that tight black dress. Watching the way it shifted as your hips swayed down the hall made his heart rate rise quickly. He couldn’t believe that someone else would be seeing you in that, touching you in that.
He had the urge to be destructive again, feeling his breathing become rapid and labored in panic. He went to the window where he could see the street below to watch you get into the man’s car, only to see you standing there shivering. Why hadn’t you worn a coat? Basil looked over at the clock, 7:01pm. The guy was late.
While he didn’t enjoy seeing you waiting in the cold, Basil did like knowing the man was unreliable. He watched you pull out your phone, likely calling your missing date. He could tell the man didn’t answer by the way your arm dropped to your hip and head hung in disappointment. You waited though, still hoping he would show up, just standing there in the cold.
For ten more minutes Basil watched you wait, full of hope, only to end up disappointed in the end on your walk back into the building. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so happy, wanting desperately to rush out into the hall and offer to take you out. He couldn’t though…that stupid fucking scar was ruining his life.
It hit him suddenly, that you would be hungry. He couldn’t let you go hungry, not after how sweet you’d been to him, so it was time to repay the favor. Even before the incident, Basil couldn’t cook for shit, and he wasn’t about to try now. This opened the door for another opportunity though…an opportunity to see you in person…
“No, no you’re crazy,” he said, looking at himself in the mirror.
He couldn’t see you like that, not with the horrible scar. And showing up at your doorstep with food in hand and a paper bag on his head would be even weirder than the scar. But if you were asleep, well, it would be hard to be afraid of him then…wouldn’t it?
With a plan in place, he called to order a pizza. He didn’t know what you liked yet, but everyone liked pizza, right? You were nice, you’d probably eat it even if it wasn’t your favorite. Plus you’d be hungry. He was banking on you being hungry.
The food arrived at his door a little while later, and the delivery man knew to just leave it on the floor. Basil took the sleeping pills he was prescribed and crushed them, sprinkling the dust over each slice so you were sure to get some in your system. Every bit of reasonable thinking was gone. He needed more than just your damn panties and a cum filled mattress.
He needed you.
Basil put the pizza in front of your door and knocked before scrambling back into his own place. He watched through the peephole as you stepped out, dressed in a comfortable pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt. You sniffled and looked down at the pizza with a confused expression. It was obvious that you’d been crying.
That’s what you get for thinking someone else could do better for you than I can. Basil thought to himself.
You lifted the sticky note he’d adhered to the box, reading over it slowly before a smile appeared on your face.
Thought you might be hungry.
The cookies were really good, here’s some pizza.
Your neighbor, Basil
Basil’s heart nearly stopped. You were smiling because of something he did. You were smiling because of him.
“This is so nice of you,” you said softly, looking at the door. “Would you…would you want to come in and have some too?”
There’s no way this was real. There’s no way you were actually inviting him into your apartment. Basil looked down at his clothes and straightened out his shirt. His breathing became shallow at the thought. This was so unexpected, he couldn’t believe it. Basil looked over at the table next to the door and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the bowl he usually tossed his keys in. 
“Um…I can’t, but you should enjoy it,” he said with a crack in his voice.
He was surprised to see the look of disappointment on your face. This must be his delusions toying with him again. You weren’t disappointed that he wouldn’t come to your apartment, that would never be the case. He stood there awkwardly, watching you through the peephole, waiting for you to leave.
“Well, you didn’t have to do this, but thank you so much, I actually am hungry.” You paused and sighed, “I’m glad you liked the cookies,” you said to him before retreating to your own apartment once again, pizza in hand.
Basil was trembling at the door for the better part of a half hour. He was stunned by your reaction, by the fact that you invited him over. It couldn’t be real. You’d fucking invited him over! If you’d known what a loser he was, would you have still invited him? If you’d known he fucked a hole in his mattress while intoxicated by the smell of your cunt would you still want him in your home?
----
He waited until it was late and he knew you’d be sound asleep. He walked into your apartment, noticing the pizza on the counter, the box still open, and three slices missing. Surely you’d consumed enough to be comatose for the time being. He stepped into your bedroom and froze.
“Wow,” he whispered, staring intently at your half-dressed form on the bed.
You hadn’t even covered up. Did you know there was a chance he might creep into your house and you wanted to be ready for him? Did you wear that tank top that barely covered anything and those lacy panties knowing he would like them? What about the way your lips parted…were you expecting him to kiss them?
Basil knelt down, reaching his shaking hand out to touch your cheek. Your skin was so soft. He felt a sob swelling in his chest. If his face was still soft, would you let him touch you while you were awake? Would you be able to actually look at him without being disgusted? He couldn’t even look at himself without being disgusted anymore.
“So pretty…”
He leaned in, brushing his nose against yours, in a small way he was testing to see if it would wake you. You stayed asleep, and so he moved forward, pressing his lips against yours. He stayed there for so long, just letting his mouth linger, feeling the way his skin felt against yours. He felt his cock growing already, aching and pressing against the zipper in his jeans. He wanted to feel your mouth in other ways, a kiss wasn’t enough.
“Someday I hope you’ll be able to enjoy this while you’re awake but…for now this is how we need to do this, okay?” he looked at you, knowing you wouldn’t answer, but hoping your subconscious would somehow hear him and understand.
Basil unbuttoned his pants, sliding the zipper down slowly and pulling the waist down with his boxer briefs as well. His fat cock bobbed out, already leaking from the head, slick strands dripping to the floor beneath him. He held the top of your head with one hand, and his length with the other, bringing the weeping tip to your pretty lips.
His body trembled immediately, feeling the way your mouth opened around his girth. He moved in further, feeling the wet heat of your tongue on the underside of his shaft. If he gagged you would you wake? He tested it, sliding forward more, watching those lips stretch around him. If you were awake you’d look up at him so pretty, eyes filling with tears as you struggled to take him all the way.
He stuffed himself all the way into your mouth, the tip of his cock resting in your throat. He could feel your body responding to the foreign object naturally, throat closing around him while you gagged, but you stayed asleep. The feeling was indescribable, causing his entire body to shake and tremble while he kept your head impaled on him.
“You’re too good baby, too good…you're gonna make me come…gonna make me come too fast! Ah!”
Basil pulled his cock out of your mouth and jerked his spend onto your cheek. He fisted himself angrily, beyond pissed that he couldn’t hold it in for more than one fucking minute. If the time ever came - which he expected it wouldn’t - that he managed to get you in bed while awake, if his face didn’t scare you off, the fact that he was a minuteman surely would.
He looked all around for something to clean you up with, but anything in your apartment would have to be taken out, or else you’d know someone was there. Basil decided to peel off his t-shirt, using that to wipe your face clean. He leaned against the wall, looking at you, still scowling and infuriated with his inability to perform, even while you were sleeping.
The longer he looked at you though, the more aroused he became all over again. Maybe getting off so quickly wouldn’t be a dealbreaker…not with you being his own personal aphrodisiac. He walked over to you again, touching your hip and squeezing your flesh. He pushed you onto your back, hooking a finger into the waist of your cute little panties. To his surprise, between your lips was sticky, warm, and wet. Did he do this to you? Did he have this effect on you?
Basil pulled your underwear down your beautiful legs slowly, staring at the slit between them hungrily. He felt some drool spilling over his bottom lip that he wiped away quickly. Tossing your panties aside, he crawled onto the bed, lowering his head between your thighs. He could smell you as he closed in, the same familiar smell he’d spent the other night drowning himself in.
Using two thick fingers, he spread your lips, watching the slick strands of your arousal stretch and break as they moved further apart. Everything was glistening and wet, and it was all for him. He leaned in, licking a stripe up and collecting what he could on his tongue, bringing it in past his lips and letting the taste settle in his mouth before swallowing.
He became immediately addicted, going in and pressing his face against your mound, moaning loudly into it. He wondered if you’d notice the feeling of his textured skin against your thighs. Would you find that disgusting? Of course you would. You’d probably yell at him and throw him out of your apartment just for looking at you with that milky broken eye in his head while he ate you out.
Not while you were asleep though. While you were sleeping he could plunge two fingers into your tight little hole and feel your cunt clenching around him. In your sleep you wanted him, you were pulling his fingers in deeper like you were starving and needed to taste him. It wasn’t enough, his fingers just weren’t going to do it for you, you needed more.
Positioning himself between your limp legs, Basil brought his cock to your entrance, gliding it between your folds to get it slick with your juices. If you were awake he imagined you might be moaning, whimpering, maybe even begging for him. He tested your threshold, seeing how well the last man in there had stretched you out. Not very well it would seem.
Slowly, he slid himself in, shuddering as he felt your walls closing down over every inch. He used two fingers to hold your puffy lips open so he could watch your cunt swallowing his cock. He needed to last, he needed to keep himself from coming too soon again. He might be a pathetic freak, but he wasn’t going to spill his load like one.
Fuck.
He wondered if this was how he would keep you. It was entirely possible he’d just pumped a baby into you without your knowledge, but that was okay. It was perfect actually. You wouldn’t want to have a baby without someone around to help you, right? He’d be able to swoop in and be there for you, to care for you.
He touched your stomach as he pulled out of you. He shuddered on the way out, looking down at the mess he made as it trickled from your pretty little hole. Basil had never been so proud of something in all his life. He may have been a hideous monster, but he made you look so beautiful just by stuffing you with everything he could. He wanted to do more. He wanted to do it again.
But he wanted you to be awake this time.
----
Another week went by of you and Basil trading food and notes throughout the day. It started the morning after he fucked your sleeping body that you came by with breakfast. He smiled and nearly cried again as he watched you put down the plate with a metal lid keeping it warm as if he’d ordered room service.
“Good morning. I don’t know if you like coffee but, you can come over and get some if you want,” you said, waiting to see if he’d respond.
He didn’t, instead he just stood there staring at you. He didn’t want to come over yet. Not while you were awake anyway. He couldn’t stand the idea of you seeing him and being afraid of what you saw. The thought of it was devastating and it hadn’t even happened yet.
“Um, no thank you. Thank you for the breakfast though I’m looking forward to it. You’re a great cook.” He said through the door.
You looked disappointed again. Were you lonely or something? Why did you care if your neighbor wanted to come over or not? You didn’t even know him, wasn’t that dangerous? He sniffed out a laugh at his own thoughts.
“It’s fine, my offer stands,” you started for your apartment again.
“I’ll cover lunch,” he said quickly before you disappeared.
When lunch came, he wanted to do something better than pizza. You deserved something good after what you’d done for him the other night, so he ordered from one of the fancy restaurants nearby and had it delivered to your door. When you retrieved your food, you furrowed your brow and smiled widely.
“Really? Gino’s? That place is pretty pricey.”
“Well, you’re really kind so… I thought I’d do something nice for you,” he felt nervous every time you spoke to him.
To his surprise, you left the bag in the hall and disappeared into your apartment. Did he do something wrong? He started panicking, thinking maybe he’d offended you somehow. Did you hate expensive food? Did you not like Gino’s? He reached for the handle, ready to pull the bag into his apartment and hope you forgot about it altogether when your door opened again and you stepped out with a folding chair in hand.
“Well, if you’re going to buy me an expensive meal, the least I can do is join you for lunch. Did you get something to eat?” You asked, sitting down and pulling out the meal he’d bought for you.
“Uh, well…” he felt his stomach grumble suddenly when he realized he hadn’t thought of his own hunger in the slightest, “I had a big breakfast.”
You chuckled, “Yeah so did I…here…”
Basil watched in awe, still shocked you were even giving him the time of day, as you sorted the containers of food and made two meals out of the one he bought. You reached for his door and then stopped, dropping your hand at your side.
“I know you like to keep to yourself, so I’ll leave this here and turn around so you can get it, okay?”
Why were you so understanding? Were you quite literally the epitome of perfection wrapped up in the most beautiful looking person he’d ever seen? Basil, at this point, was nearly certain he was having visual hallucinations. It wouldn’t be the first time since the incident that he’d thought he’d seen things…or heard things. Maybe this was just him going completely nuts. Maybe this was just an extension of his psychotic break. You put the box of food down and turned.
Slowly, Basil opened the door, not peeking his head out far enough that you’d be able to see even if you did turn around, and he pulled the food back inside. You didn’t even try to peek. You didn’t let - what he assumed to be - your morbid curiosity get the better of you. Basil pulled a chair over and sat with his half of the meal on the other side of the door.
He couldn’t see you now, but he could hear you, and that was good enough for him.
“So, you obviously saw me get ridiculously embarrassed last night,” you said from the other side of the door.
He smirked, thinking about how much he enjoyed you last night, and how much you seemed to enjoy him, despite not ever knowing he was there. You called it embarrassing, but to Basil, it was an amazing, and unwasted, opportunity to show you something better.
“Well, maybe it’s good that he’s doing this now instead of wasting your time later,” Basil said, taking a bite of his food.
He thought about Katherine and the way she’d been to him. She cheated on him for so long, and yet he stayed. Since seeing you, Basil considered that he never really loved her, he just hated the thought of admitting someone could cast him away so easily after so many years. He further hated the thought of losing the social status that came with having a girlfriend. Everyone seemed to respect you and treat you differently if you had a pretty girl on your arm. He would’ve dealt with the cheating to avoid the shame of admitting she’d cheated on him, but he never really loved her.
Not the way he loved you.
“You’re very right about that,” you agreed with a mouthful of food. “What about you? Are you seeing someone?”
Basil laughed loudly, “me? Is that a joke?”
“Hey, just because you’re a hermit doesn’t mean you don’t have some online girlfriend or something.”
“No…no, no one would be interested in me,” Basil felt the weight of his loneliness on his chest again.
“You seem like a sweet guy, and you do have great taste in music, I’m sure there’s someone out there who would love to date you,” you chuckled, “this kinda feels like a date.”
Basil put his food down, having completely lost his appetite in favor of this conversation with you. He stood, going back to the peephole. You must’ve heard him because you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours and stared.
“Why?” He asked. “This is weird.”
“What’s weird? Me talking to you about my dating life when you literally live next door to me? You probably know more about what’s happening in my personal life than anyone,” you said, shaking your head and putting your food on the floor too.
You got up and walked to the door, putting your palm on the wood paneling and resting it there.
“When I came in from that date, well, lack thereof, I called my best friend and my mom, and no one answered,” you looked at the floor and then back at the peephole. “Some stranger who I hardly know, but who also seems to be going through something, was kind enough to send me a pizza. That kinda checks off a lot of boxes for me as far as someone I might be interested in getting to know better.”
“What if you find out I’m actually a horrible person? Like you said, you don’t know me,” he retorted, thinking about what he’d done to that pizza you were so grateful for.
“Are you a murderer?” You asked bluntly, keeping your eye on the peephole.
“Well no, no I’m not.”
“Okay then I don’t think–”
“What if I’m hideous?”
“I don’t give a shit about looks really,” you sighed and sat back down in your chair. “I know this is weird, that’s why I just want to talk to you, get to know you a little. Is that alright?”
You were right. There was no harm in getting to know him, except it gave him hope. The last thing he could handle was the thought of you leading him on and then turning him down once you saw his face. What if getting to know you only made his obsession grow? How would he ever recover from the crushing despair if you rejected him once you saw what he really looked like?
“Fine,” he said, sitting back down.
For days you shared meals and stories, taking turns sitting outside the other’s door while getting to know one another. Basil was falling for you. It was more than just that obsession to fuck you now, it was that need to call you his. It was the need to have you smiling and laughing with him on a lazy Sunday morning or while apple picking in the fall. Simultaneously, it was the need to have you moaning his name while you took every inch he had.
He would overcome anything for you, even his greatest fear, which was risking your potential rejection of him.
He gave himself the excuse he needed to knock on your door and come inside. You’d had a heavy package delivered, and while he was certain you could handle it, he decided to offer some help. Basil knocked on your door, heart pounding with every step he heard you took toward him. He adjusted the paper bag on his head, knowing he looked foolish, but he wasn’t ready to show you everything yet.
You opened the door, and he saw your eyes scanning him up and down. This was the first time he was seeing you in the open while awake, and you took his breath away. It was evening, so the two of you had already had your dinner date. The UPS driver came late, and you probably hadn’t planned on company, hence the short shorts and ill-fitting tank top.
“Basil?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
You were judging him, he could tell. His palms started to sweat and he lost the ability to speak. Could he remember how to breathe?
“Oh, my package!” You exclaimed, walking over to it and trying uselessly to lift it.
“I got it,” he said, coming out of his stupor and rushing to aid you.
You thanked him as he brought the package into your apartment and placed it down on your floor by the couch with a heavy grunt. He stood up, stepping away from the package. His paper bag rustled as he did so.
“Thanks. I probably could’ve dragged that in here myself but…I appreciate the help,” you sighed, giving Basil a smile that nearly stretched ear to ear.
If you could see his face, you’d see how flushed his cheeks were at your charming expression.
“What?” He asked, keeping his eyes on you.
“I’m just happy to see you out of your apartment,” you explained sincerely. “You don’t have to keep the bag on unless you want to, but it’s going to be kinda hard to drink some wine with it on.”
You went to one of your cupboards and pulled out a bottle of Barefoot Moscato and two glasses.
“All I’ve got is white, and it’s cheap,” you said, pouring the drinks.
“Oh um…I’m not…I was going to go back…”
“Come on Basil, please just stay for one glass?”
How could he say no when you looked at him like that? So sweet and begging that it nearly brought a tear to his eye to even think about turning you down.
“Y-you really want me to s-stay? You don’t think I’m weird or–”
You laughed, “I mean, you are wearing a bag on your head, I can’t lie and say that’s not odd but…” you trailed off as you handed him the glass of wine. “We’re all a little weird right? I mean, I’m letting a guy I barely know have wine with me in my apartment with a bag on his head. Who’s weirder?”
Basil couldn’t help laughing. You made a good point, so he decided to try and relax, and the wine certainly helped. Three glasses in each and you were both feeling a bit more loose, but he was also feeling something else. While you were laughing and telling him about how annoying this girl at work was, your breasts were bouncing with every wild movement of your arms. He was mesmerized.
“-And when I tell you that’s all she ever does…are you listening?” The bag on Basil’s head shifted as he looked back at your eyes.
“Yeah, yes.”
You chuckled, looking down at your chest and back up at him, shaking your head.
“All you men are the same, just after one thing huh?” You asked, downing a fourth glass of wine.
Basil’s heart stopped in terror. No. No, you couldn’t possibly think that of him could you?
“No, no it’s the wine I’m sorry I was zoning out and I wasn’t even looking at them I…I’m so sorr–”
“I’m kidding. You think I would’ve answered the door when I saw it was you out there wearing this if I didn’t want you to look at me?”
Basil let out a half-hearted chuckle, trying to breathe again, “kidding, right…” he finished off another glass as well. It was then that he realized what you’d said. “You want me to l-look at you? Like…like you…” he gulped, “you want me to…”
You laughed, nodding and sighing at him affectionately.
“Basil, I think you’re a nice guy, I want you to look at me.”
His mind was fuzzy, and even with only one good eye, he could see clearly as you started to bring the straps of your tank top down. Either your self-esteem was so on the floor, and you’d take your top off for any man that gave you the time of day, or you were really into him. He didn’t want to get his hopes up only to have them crushed, so he took what he could get, and enjoyed the moment, watching you lower your top down, showing your beautiful chest off in a lacy bralette.
You couldn’t see the way Basil’s jaw dropped, or see the way the drool dribbled down his chin, but he couldn’t breathe again.
“I’m going to assume that you like what you see, even though I can’t tell what you’re looking at…” you raised your eyebrows.
“Yes, yes I’m sorry I’m just…wow…”
“Wanna feel ‘em?” You asked with a hiccup.
Could you get cuter? Your big, gorgeous eyes were looking at him from the other side of the couch, begging for validation. You really needed someone as pathetic as him to validate you? Someone so beautiful needed his reassurance to feel adequate? You were practically asking him to tell you just how much he loved your tits and wanted them. Who was he to deny you?
“Um…I…”
Before he could stutter any longer, you were crawling on the couch over to him, sitting on your knees, your chest perked up for him to admire. Basil’s cock had been at half mast for the better part of the hour, and now it was threatening to bust through the seam holding it back. With a shaking hand, he reached out, touching your breast underneath the thin fabric of the bralette. You bit your lip as his thumb brushed over your hard nipple.
“You have really big hands,” you said with a giggle that made Basil’s body spark with an electric shock.
“You like that? Big hands?” He asked, bringing his other hand to cup your neglected right breast.
“I do,” your tone was sultry and sweet.
A breathy moan escaped as his hands massaged your tits, taking his time to rub his thumbs over your peaks, feeling the way they got harder under the bralette. He pinched them, enjoying the way you whimpered when he did. You were so sensitive, he knew you would be, he could feel it.
He felt something else too, the unmistakable and insurmountable arousal growing inside of him and pooling in his groin. He cursed under his breath, squeezing your tits tight while he felt the heat, shooting in spurts, and wetting his lap, making a mess of himself…right in front of you. Basil froze, afraid to move, afraid that you would see how pathetic he was, blowing his load after only touching you for a second.
“Did…did you just…” you started, looking down at the dark, wet spot on his lap.
“I’m so sorry, this has never happened to me before,” he lied, trying to cover himself with his hands. “I’ll go, oh my–”
“No wait,” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder before he could leave. “Are you kidding me? That’s so fucking hot.”
That was it, the proof Basil needed to convince himself that you were all in his head. Though he usually couldn’t feel his hallucinations, not like this anyway. He would’ve kissed you right then, but he couldn’t. You still didn’t know what he looked like, and no matter how much of his odd behavior you were willing to accept, he couldn’t be certain you would accept his deformity.
“Can you bend over for me?” He asked, voice soft and pleading.
You bit your lip and nodded slowly, turning around and putting a throw pillow under your chest. Basil removed the bag from his face, letting it drop off to the side of the couch. He could see you much more clearly now, bent over so nicely for him, rear poised and ready for him to touch. He stood up and unclasped his belt, then pulled down his soiled pants and boxer briefs, discarding them on the floor.
“Can you promise me you won’t look?” He asked, holding onto your hips as he positioned himself behind you.
You giggled and nodded, “yeah, I won’t look, I promise.”
He leaned over you, “thank you,” he whispered in your ear, feeling your body shudder in response, “such a sensitive girl.”
You whined as he kissed down your shoulder, bringing his hands to your waist and holding tightly. He ran his cock between your ass cheeks, feeling the sweet friction they provided was going to set him off again so soon after he just came. You said it was hot though…
“I’m sorry, it’s coming again I can’t stop–ah!”
Basil moved his hips faster and faster until he was shooting heavy ropes of white all over your back, getting some on the couch. He felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment, despite your saying how much you liked it. You laughed again, wiggling your ass a little and rubbing it along his length.
“Such a needy boy,” you taunted, “get it in me next time.”
He furrowed his brow, running the fat tip of his cock along your slit. You still made him so fucking hard, no matter how many times he came, he could keep going as long as you were around. Basil watched your lips part, swallowing him whole until his pubic hair was brushing against your rear. He whined, feeling your walls flutter around him and hearing your satisfied sigh.
“Yes, oh wow, you’re f-fucking h-huge,” you said, gasping as though he’d been pounding you for hours, but he still hadn’t moved since he slid into you.
“You really like it? You think it’s big?” He pulled back, seeing how wet you made his cock until he slammed forward again.
You cried out, “oh god yes!”
Basil squeezed your waist tighter, finding a smooth rhythm that kept you wailing and drooling on your own couch. He watched you hold onto the arm of the couch, burying your face into the pillow and screaming into it like he was killing you. He pushed on your back, forcing you to gasp and groan, face being forced into the cushions.
He leaned forward, kissing your shoulder, “tell me how much you like it,” he whispered, “please, I need to hear you tell me how good I feel.”
“I-oh god I can’t-mm!”
“Please,” he begged pathetically, kissing your back again, “tell me it’s good, please.”
“It’s good Basil it’s…oh!”
He felt your pussy squeeze around him, and when he looked down he could see it throbbing while you gushed over his cock. You were incoherent, making high pitched whines as you continued losing yourself in the euphoria. He’d slowed his movements, trying once again to contain himself a little longer. It was clear you wanted more when you started moving on him again on your own, taking what you knew you needed.
“Basil,” you mewled.
He leaned into you again, “yeah?”
“I want to see you, please,” you said, voice pleading for the one thing he never wanted to give you.
Basil would give you his soul, his body, everything in his bank account in order to avoid letting you see his fucking face. He slammed into your hips, growing a little frustrated with your curiosity. Did you want to see it so you could mock him? So you could laugh at the man while he fucked you full? Why did you need to see him so badly?
“I want to see your face when you come,” you said as though you could read his mind.
Basil pulled out of you.
This was it.
He couldn’t keep hiding from you.
He sat back, feeling the cool leather of the couch against his rear.
“Fine,” he said coldly, feeling dread weighing on his chest, making it hard to breathe.
You turned around slowly until you finally met his gaze. Your lips parted slowly, eyes scanning over his face as though you were mapping it out, memorizing the details. As you leaned in closer, Basil turned his face away from you, shielding the deformity from your eyes as though it might make you hate it less. He could feel the tears welling, he was already anticipating your harsh words.
“Why are you hiding from me? Pretty boy,” you cooed in the softest voice, reaching out a hand and touching his scarred cheek, turning him to face you.
“W-what did you just say?” He asked, a tear spilling over and running down his cheek.
“I can’t believe you’d keep your beautiful face hidden from me like that,” you climbed over his lap, straddling his hips.
“Are you playing with me? Huh? What’s your angle? Are you going to go to work tomorrow and tell all your friends you fucked a freak?” He was getting angry, but trying to keep it from boiling over.
You giggled, “do you really think that lowly of me, Basil?” your face closed in on his and your lips brushed against the rippled skin on his cheek softly.
He choked out a moan as you lowered yourself on him, stuffing your cunt full of him once again. You liked his face? You really liked it? He threw his head back, hair falling out of his eyes as he looked up at you. He guided you as you bounced up and down on his dick, feeling it bruising the deepest parts of you. You brought your hands to the back of his head, holding onto his dark curls tight while you kissed him deeply.
“Mm, you’re so so-good-baby,” he growled lowly, “use me, use me to get off again, I want you to come on me again and again I–”
“Shh,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his, forcing your tongue past his lips, and the second he tasted you, he let out a whimpering moan.
He squeezed your hips tighter, intoxicated by the feeling of you, and the sounds of your wet pussy slapping against his lap. He started rolling his hips upward, feeling himself getting deeper and deeper with every pass. It was like your body knew he belonged in there, making room for him as it should. You let out a guttural moan, deep from inside of you, and Basil could feel your cunt starting to flutter around him again. 
He latched his lips to your neck, and you immediately held onto both of his shoulders and lurched forward, hips freezing while your cunt contracted over him in waves. Basil came once again, cock throbbing while it filled your little hole with everything he had. He pulled your hips down, placing both hands on top of your thighs and holding you there while he rutted upward, sobbing as he did.
He couldn’t believe you let him take you. He couldn’t believe you called him pretty. Most of all, he couldn’t believe that when you were both finished, panting heavily on the couch as clarity set in, you didn’t call him an ugly monster and scream at him to leave your apartment.
“So you…was that…did I do alright? You liked it? You don’t think I’m hideous?”
“Basil…” you leaned in and kissed his nose, “you’re perfect.”
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meowordeath · 17 days
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A/N: :3 I was inspired to make this because of another post I was reading. This is my first time publicly posting fanfiction, so let’s all keep an open mind if there are mistakes !!
Doppelganger? Francis Mosses x Reader
Warning: Angst? I think this qualifies as angst.
wc: 900+
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There is a routine, there has always been a routine. Why is today different, something is different, but what? Something feels off, but everything is in order, you’ve checked, double checked, hell you even triple checked, why does today feel… off? “Darling..?” His voice, did it always sound like that..? Did he always… look like that? He tilted his head toward you, as he slowly lifted his arms up to your shoulders. “Oh Darling. You must be tired. You’ve had a long day at work, rest, I can take care of everything else.” You sigh looking at him. His smile was warm exactly how Francis would always look at you.
“You’re right, I… I must be exhausted, nothing seems to be out of place. I’m sorry, I must look crazy.” You let out an airy laugh as you rub your face. He let out a quiet laugh, moving your hand aside and replacing it with his own. “It’s just one of those days, even if you do look loony searching the apartment.”
You lean forward, resting your forehead against his chest. When did this feeling of something off start to consume you? He didn’t move to embrace you, just letting your head rest on his chest. He slowly eases you off him, turning you around steering you toward the bedroom. “You should rest, whatever was wrong will be alright tomorrow darling.” He said softly. You nod walking to the room, he didn’t follow you.
Time felt as if it was moving extremely slow, the clock was ticking but was the time passing? Changing alone, that felt new, was Francis still wearing his Milkman attire?
The bed was cold, you hated the cold. Francis was warm, he… where was he? You just stared at the ceiling, beginning to darken as the sun had set. Left alone with your thoughts, acutely aware of every noise in yours and Francis' small apartment. Maybe an hour had passed when you heard the soft click of the front door. It’s night, where could he have gone, perhaps he wanted to smoke before bed.
You turn on your side, pretending as though Francis was there. “Today was rough, Francis.” your voice came out in a croak. Francis was facing you, laying on his side. “Mm, tell me what about it was so rough.” You sigh, rolling onto your back. “You’re why it’s rough, stupid man.” His chuckle is slightly loud, it sounds just like you remember. “Mm, really, I don’t remember doing wrong by you?”
You turned your head toward him looking into his eyes. He was still on his side, his face serene like he was madly in love with you. “You didn’t come home, how am I supposed to tend to our apartment by myself asshole.” Francis finally rolled onto his back. “Mm, I don’t know what you mean, I am home.”
You were pulled out of your daze from a click of the front door. Hastily you stand, making your way to the living room. It’s dark, you can’t see a single thing, you can see his silhouette though. Slowly you reach toward a lamp. “Don’t turn on the lights.” He spoke sharply, it wasn’t a request, it was a demand.
“Oh, darling, why aren’t you in bed.” He says exasperated. His silhouette stalks toward you. Your hand trembles, hovering right above the switch of the lamp. You make the move to turn it on lights once more. “You turn on that light, and you will die like Francis!” Your blood turned cold at what he said. “Do you want to die? Francis, sure didn't.” His voice spoke, you knew deep down, you knew this wasn’t Francis, you just were unable to come to terms with it.
His hand went over your own and you could feel a wet sensation on it. “Just go to bed darling, and nothing has to happen. We can forget about all of this.” He… It? It leaned in resting its forehead against your own. You were terrified and also mourning at the news It had told you. “Why… Why did you have to take Francis? My Francis���” You shook as you tried to hold in your grief. “Because it was easy. He delivered right to my doorstep, or well to my old identity’s doorstep. He was just supposed to be a snack, until I saw his memories. He lived in what is quite literally a temporary livestock farm for me.” It let out an excited breath, you could feel it against your face.
“I’d rather not kill you, it may give me away to the D.D.D, but if you don’t go to that fucking bedroom and go to sleep, I will.” It threatened you. You let out a sobbed, before covering your mouth. It had a tight grasp on your other one, it showed It meant it. “I can’t…” You croaked out. “You can, or you will die.” You shook your head violently, ripping your hand from his grasp, bringing them both to your face.
It sighed. “You fool, I gave you the chance to live, at least you’ll be reunited with your beloved Francis.” It says in a condescending tone. You can’t help but cry, both out of fear and anguish. “Before you die, don’t you want to gaze upon your beloved's face once more.” It clicked the light on, not even allowing you to answer. It ripped your hands from your face. You take in the bloodied sight of Francis face, you can’t help but sob once more.
“I’m so sorry Francis.”
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hope you like this :3
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moonydustx · 1 month
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So I have this thing...
I need more Law x Reader fics pleeeaassee (;TДT)
Anyway...
May I ask a reader (up to you what gender) reacting to law proposing to her? Which I doubt canon law would even do but I guess since it's fanfiction, who cares if it's Canon, right???
OMG, this is incredible, hold my hand and I'm with you on this, thank you so much for the request. In my HCs on the Law (I will still post them) I think if it was important for him to do it without even blinking. Surely it would be something more discreet, a small ceremony between just two? I don't know, I might be rambling too much.
Apologies because I didn't have much time to review and maybe I got carried away writing it. I hope you enjoy!
Important: italics are for flashbacks and character readings aloud.
The proposal - favorite moment (part 01)
Part 02 - Part 03
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Law counted the minutes until night arrived, it was one of his favorite moments. That was when you would sneak around the submarine and end up knocking on the door on it. In most of these situations, you didn't get out anytime soon. He's not much of a follower on the calendar, celebrating each month together - and come to think of it, everything happened so naturally that it was decided on which day it started to be difficult for you to be a boyfriend.
Like so many other nights, you found yourself doing what was one of the only things Law could name as a hobby. You were nestled between his legs, your body resting on his chest as you attentively read another book. He found himself leaning against the wall, one of his hands resting on his body while with the other he tried to leaf through one of the new editions of Sora comics that he had picked up on the last island he visited.
He had already lost count of how many times the two of you had wasted hours tangled up in his bed reading and something else he was used to hearing you sniffle at something, like you were doing this time. His eyes looked away from the painting and went straight to where you were reading, just out of curiosity. The other times you were sniffling, he had found you reading about some character who died, some reunion, some couple who got together. This time, from what he could see, it was a marriage proposal.
He already knew it was an important topic for you. He also knew that if he had to choose to spend his entire life with someone, it would be you. Law had thought about the hypothesis a few times and when reading the small excerpt from the book, he let himself think about the idea.
"Wow." your feet were planted in front of an immense showcase. Dresses were stacked side by side in various sizes and textures, some with huge trains and others full of silk.
"Don't tell me you're one of those marriage freaks." Ikkaku planted himself next to you, next to Bepo.
"They are beautiful." the bear confirmed, touching the glass.
"Not freak…" you tried to find the words, you really didn't want to sound like a crazy person. "I mean, marriages are two people coming out in love to the world, to the government, to whatever god they may believe in or to no god at all, as if nothing could intervene or separate them."
"Okay, insane then." Shachi appeared behind you, mumbling.
"Actually, that's a nice way of thinking." Ikkaku replied to him, watching you just shrug. "And I won't deny it, they are beautiful dresses."
"Time to go." The captain's voice echoed closer than you imagined, as if he had been there the whole time listening.
Seeing the crew members move forward, agreeing to the captain's request, Law took a few seconds to evaluate the display that had distracted everyone. He could just be daydreaming, but one day you would look incredible wearing a dress like that along with the new name you would carry. Ms. Trafalgar.
From that day on, the idea of ​​proposing to you never left his mind, Law just needed to find the perfect opportunity and it appeared before his eyes.
"Okay…" your choked voice took him out of his reverie. "That's enough tears for today and I'm getting sleepy." you closed the book, turning towards him and snuggling even closer against Law's body.
"Do you mind if I keep reading some more?" he asked and you just mumbled no. His hand got tangled in your strands of hair and it didn't take long for unconsciousness to take you away.
Law gave himself a week to put the plan into practice. The small room at Polar Tang was tidier than usual however you could notice Law more tense than usual behind his back.
"Everything is fine?" you asked, quickly turning to face him. Law seemed distracted from the book in his hands.
"Everything amazing." his lips quickly touched the top of your head. It was now. All the other battles he had faced had not even come close to the anxiety he felt at that moment. "That book you were reading last week?"
"Ah, it's this one. I'm almost done. It's a period romance, princess, knight and all the little things that involves." you laughed, knowing that from your description he would hate the book. "There's no point trying to convince me to read Sora, this one is much cooler."
"So cool you were crying the last time you read it." he said in a teasing tone.
In a casually planned way, even if it went unnoticed in your eyes, he placed the comic he was reading on the bed.
"It's because he was so sweet to her, made an amazing statement."
"Really? Let me see." He moved even closer to your back, looking for space on your shoulder to follow the written words and find the perfect cue.
"Here. Can I read it?"
"Please." he asked, feeling his hands sweat cold.
"Of all the countries I've visited, I don't think I've ever found a home except in you. You've been my home, my safe haven." You started reading, already feeling yourself melting with those words. At the same time, Law took out a small box hidden behind one of the pillows. "So let me be the sword that protects you, the heart that loves you infinitely. I thought happiness would only find me in the next life until I found myself lost in you. What do you mean by that, my love? So, the The knight fell to his knees, the wounds of the battle he faced seemed not to bother him, not when Annya's eyes rested on him. Annya then heard the four words that carried a lifetime of promises…"
"Would you marry me?" Law's voice echoed alongside yours.
Before you could ask what he thought, a small black box appeared in your field of vision. Inside it, a golden ring with a small heart symbol glittered. The book fell from your hands, finding your lap, as you turned to your boyfriend.
"Law?" at that moment, your voice was not the most reliable. As shaky as she was, your vision was blurred by what you suspected were tears. Your hands covered your lips, still not believing what you were seeing.
"Maybe my sword heals you more than defends you, but that doesn't mean I'll let anyone hurt you in this world. You're my home, my safe haven and I can't wait for you to be my wife. I'd even kneel, but It's a little complicated." he smiled, seeing you still paralyzed on top of him. "So, would you marry me?"
"Yes." the first time came out as a whisper. "Yes Yes Yes!" with each new time the word left your lips, you allowed euphoria to take over your body.
Law took your hand, placing a small kiss before putting on the ring and repeating the gesture, as soon as the jewel was in the place where it belonged. His hands pulled you so your legs were around his waist.
"That's…" you even tried to speak, but it was impossible to put everything you felt at the moment into so few words. You saw him pull out a ring that was the same color as yours, without all the details. "Let me do it."
Before he could put it on his own finger, you took it from his hand and repeated the same thing he had done to you. He placed a small kiss between the tattooed fingers and let the jewelry take its rightful place.
"I don't believe." You looked at your hand and then at him. "Law, that was so amazing."
"You're incredible. I can't wait to see you become Mrs. Trafalgar. My beautiful, smart, a little crybaby…" he wiped away your tears, bringing a laugh from your lips. "My dear wife."
"I love you so much." you cupped his face, taking his lips to yours.
Even though it was full of emotions and promises, it was a calm kiss. Law, like you, wanted to record every second of that moment, every inch of skin kissed, every touch.
In the end, Law was also a marriage nut - just with his dear Lady Trafalgar.
----
Little extra:
Law was never a big fan of public displays of affection, but that morning he had made an exception. Seeing you happy, showing off your new ring and the promise of marriage, ideas of what to do on the date, honeymoon suggestions. He couldn’t deny it, it was amazing to see how happy you were with the whole situation.
His happiness was short-lived when he saw three sullen faces - one of them looking like a bear - sitting in front of him.
"So Law, my friend." Penguin began.
"Shut up, it's me."
"But I'm his best friend." Bepo grumbled.
"What do you want?" he asked, trying to understand what the three were discussing so much
"Which of the three of us will be the best man?" Shachi warned and Law watched the three in front of him cross their arms and wait for a response.
Before he could respond, Law felt two arms slide and lock around him.
"We haven't decided that yet guys. We can talk about it later." you asked and watched them begin to argue among themselves who would be what.
"Thanks." Law muttered, making you laugh. You bent down to his ear level.
"And you, I'll be waiting for you in the room. I got someone to cover my duties today, now I want to continue feeling what my dear fiancé can do for me." In contrast to the whispered and sexy voice that left your lips, you left a chaste kiss on Law's cheek and left towards the dorms.
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softestnatalie · 8 months
Text
Abandoned corridors of the heart
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female!reader
Timing: Season 1
Summary: You were on your own when the apocalypse started, not having much family or friends. That, however, changed when you met a grumpy redneck in the woods. In desperate need for help and a group, you chose to trust him just the slightest bit. You didn't expect him to change your life the way he did.
Warnings: large age gap, mild language, swear words, daryl being an ass, violence, blood and gore, character death, sexual content, just basic TWD stuff, topics like sexual assault and self harm
Autor's note: Hi! This is my first The Walking Dead fanfiction. It will start in season 1 and end in season 11 so this chapter will play in the first episode of TWD. Of course I will put in my own plot as well. The female character is supposed to be the reader, not an original character, so I won't describe her looks and you can imagine her however you want. She does have a backstory tho. The warnings above are for the story in general but I will try to put warnings for each chapter. That being said; have fun reading babes! &lt;3
Chapter 1: The home you lost
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You didn't know how it started or when exactly it started, but you knew it was spreading quickly. They were talking about the unknown illness on TV, playing it on the radio, warning as many people as they could. That's how you first heard about it - the terrifying sickness - you just didn't take it as seriously as you should have. You were living with your mother to that time - only being 19 - so you told her about it in hopes she would ease the little worry you were feeling.
She didn't - couldn't. You remember the look on her face when you told her - the slight widening of her eyes, the raise of her eyebrows, and the way her mouth parted the smallest bit in shock - and you knew she wouldn't be able to comfort you even if she wanted to because she was even more worried than you.
It was only a few hours later when you saw a weird figure on the street while you were walking home. It made you squint your eyes in order to see the walking sillouette a bit better, not that it helped in any way. You realised quickly that it wasn't a person - not a living person at least because, really, no living person could look like that and it made you shiver nervously. The groaning was getting louder the closer that 'thing' got to you and only then did you decide to continue moving and get home as soon as possible. You were lucky that day.
You decided against telling your mother about the incident. Not only because you weren't able to process what you saw yourself, but because you didn't want to cause her any more fear than she already had, so you kept quiet.
Everything was still pretty much normal - people went to work, friends were being met, and places were being visited. A few things did change though. Everyone was being more careful when they were outside, almost like they had a third eye on the back of their head. What scared you a little more were the people walking through your city - definitely too many to count and the masses only got bigger as days passed. Some of them were covered in blood while others were completely clean. It was clear to you why these people left their home and what their goal was and it made you question how long it would take until you would be one of them, deperately looking for a new home.
You and your mother decided to stay at home from that point on because it was simply too dangerous to step a foot outside. Both of you called in sick for work, making sure you wouldn't have any problems when all of this was over. It only took a few days until stores and businesses had to shut down or were run over by 'them'. Things got even worse when your food was starting to run out, barely getting you through these few days, and your mother offered to go out and get more from a nearby grocery store, but you declined. The last thing you wanted was your mother getting hurt.
Only another two days later did you change your mind. The food was officially out and you had to rationate the little bit of water that you had left. You knew someone had to go out and get supplies in order for you to survive. Your mother shook her head almost angrily when you asked her if you should accompany her on her way, telling you it was important for you to stay as safe as possible and that she would never allow you to put yourself in that kind of danger. A mother is supposed to protect her child.
So you waited inside your shared apartment, biting your nails in nervousness - a habit you just couldn't seem to overcome. You glanced at the old clock hanging on your wall - 5 minutes had passed. Under normal circumstances she would only need half an hour to come back with what you needed but given the current situation she would definitely need longer. That's why you weren't suspisious when your mother wasn't back after an hour had passed. But when the two hour mark was reached and there was sill no knock on your door, you felt your fingers twitch nervously.
You thought for a moment, not knowing what to do. But you knew rather quickly that you should go and look for her. So you put on your shoes and a jacket, grabbing the keys for your house before shutting the door behind you. Your heart was starting to beat quickier the more steps you took. It was your first time going outside since all of this - whatever 'this' was - started and only now could you see what kind of impact it had on your city; whole buildings were destroyed, the otherwise busy streets were empty - not a single moving car - and where couples and families were once walking together was now an empty sidewalk.
The only noises being heard were the wind blowing softly around you and disgusting groans in the distance. You kept your pace steady and fast as you looked for your parent but you quickly lost all the hope you had when you reached the little shop and there still wasn't a single sign of your mother. You opened the glass doors slowly, carfully stepping inside and your mouth opened in shock at the condition the shop was in. Shelves were pushed to the ground and almost all of them were empty.
You called the name of your mother softly but when you didn't get an answer and the store remained silent, your shoulders dropped in disappointment. You decided to take a few of the suppplies with you before you left the store again. 2 bottles of water - not much but enough for a few days - and a few packs of sliced bread. It was all you could carry since you didn't take a bag with you.
Your heart made a big jump inside your chest and a little squeal left your lips when you saw a head between two fallen shelves. It was rotten and somehow a light shade of gray, it's teeth yellow. You would have covered your nose if your hands wouldn't have been holding the things you needed to live because the smell was just so disgusting, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.
It was time to go back, you decided. You looked around once more before you turned around and pushed trough the doors, leaving the body behind. You kept your eyes open on your way home, hoping you would catch a sight of your mother - without success. Still, you were trying to think positive; maybe she would already be home by now, waiting and worrying for you.
You were wrong. The house was empty and the only thing that had been waiting for you was silence. A deep breath left your mouth as you walked into your kitchen, not even bothering to take off your shoes, and put down the food and water. You lowered your head, putting your hands on the kitchen counter for stability. You felt alone - so utterly alone - and you missed your parent more than words could describe. Guilt was bubbling up inside you because you let her leave. You should have gone with her, helped her.
Only when you opened your eyes again did you realise you were crying, soft tears running down your face and making your head ache. Another shaky breath left you as you sat down on your couch. You left the front door unlocked because there was still a chance of your mother coming back and you wanted her to be able to get inside at any time of the day. The chance was slim but it was there.
It was slowly starting to get dark outside when you got up to eat some of the bread you found, taking the water with you as you sat on the couch again. You thought it would be the best to stay on the couch for the night since it was close to the front door and you wanted to be here if your mother came back and you knew you wouldn't be able to get any sleep anyway.
That's what you did for the next few days. Eat, wait on the couch, sleep for a few hours, and wait again. But she didn't come back and at this point you started to understand that it would probably stay that way - that you wouldn't get to see her again - and it made you cry harder than you thought was possible. Still, you didn't dare to lock the door because maybe, just maybe, she would come one day.
Things were going okay until you woke up one night with noises coming from your door. It was dark outside and your clock proved that it was way past midnight. Your were frozen for a moment but you moved quickly when the door opened, a smile forming on your lips. It faded as quickly as it came when you realised that whoever was in your house definitely wasn't your mother. And before you could think of what to do, the figure was standing right in front of you, a clicking sound filling the air before he pointed something at you. It was too dark to recognize it but you could imagine what it was.
"Stop," the voice spoke and you were pretty sure it was a male talking to you. You didn't dare to say anything in fear of saying the wrong thing. "Don't move," he spoke again.
It was quiet for a few moments before you heard his voice once again, "Do you have food?" He asked you in a rather harsh tone. You nodded your head as slow as possible, lifting your hand and pointing in the direction of your kitchen, "Just bread," you whispered, "You can take it - you can take it all - just leave again, please."
The man started walking backwards in small, heavy steps but still kept the gun pointed at you. He grabbed a pack of sliced bread and looked at it before he put it down again and chuckled quietly, "Oh, baby, this is my home now. Feels safe enough here."
He shushed you when you started to talk, pleading for him to just leave you alone. "You can choose how you want this to end," he walked closer again, stepping right in front of you and pressing the cold end of the pistol against your forehead. "Option one: you're gonna put on your shoes and walk straight out that door," he nodded is head into the directon of your front door, "You won't come back and everything will be fine. No one has to get hurt."
You winced slightly when he pressed the gun even harder against you and you shook your head silently. You didn't want to leave - you had nowhere else to go and you would never survive out there - especially on your own.
"Option two: you will refuse to leave and well," his voice got quieter towards the end and he trailed the gun down the side of your face, "There won't be enough space for the both of us."
You sayed still as you thought about his words and you felt the need to cry again because you knew that either option would mean your death. That man would kill you if you decided against going and if you decided to go and try your luck out there, you would probably die within the first day. Staying inside your home - which held some of your most important memories - would be the easier death. Definitely less painful.
Still, you went to put on your shoes in slow steps, signaling the man before you that you wouldn't do anything stupid and were planning on leaving. Why did you think option one was the better one? Because it gave you hope and at least the smallest bit of a chance to survive.
The intruder chuckled again, "Good choice."
Your shaking hands made you fumble with your shoelaces before you walked towards the still open door, giving the person one last look before leaving the house you've been living in for the past 19 years behind. As soon as you could hear him close the door you let your tears fall, allowing yourself to be weak for the millionth time this week because how could everything go so wrong so damn quickly.
You didn't know where to go or what to do because you didn't even get the chance to take a bag or anything similar with you. You were alone - lost the only person you were still close with and now even your home. It made your heart squeeze painfully in your chest and you just wished it would end - wished that your life how it was just a few weeks ago would return.
The first place you visited was the shop from a few days ago in hopes of finding food once again. You weren't so lucky this time - the shop was completely empty, not even a single pack of anything left. So you went to a few other shops but the only thing you could catch at the end of the day was one can of coke. Obviously, other people were just as desperate and needed food and water just as much as you did.
A few days later you found yourself in the woods a few miles away from your home town and you were honestly suprised you were still alive. You hadn't eaten since you got kicked out of your own house and the coke ran out after a few nights. The weather was good for the most part but the nights were really cold and not having a jacket with you wasn't making it easier.
Luckily for you, you didn't really have many enounters with those 'rotten people'. You saw a few but you always managed to hide successfully before they could cause you any harm. You wouldn't have known how to defend yourself if one of them would've attacked you - you wouldn't have known what to do. You didn't know a lot about them in general. You knew they were spreading the illness by biting still living people but other than that you were completely clueless.
Your clothes were drenched in dirt just as well as your exposed skin and not having any way to shower just made you feel worse about the whole situation. A few cuts were decorating your left arm caused by your stupidity when you tripped over your own feet and scratched your arm against a tree when you tried to catch yourself.
Your feet were screaming in pain after hours of walking and looking for something - anything. A place to stay, something edible or something to drink or maybe even your mother. By now, you were sure she was dead - or one of the 'walking deads' - and you slowly started to come to terms with it. Still, the uncertainty was killing you. You needed to see her - needed to say goodbye to the person who had raised you for the past 19 years.
You decided to take a break and took a seat at a nearby tree, leaning your back against the hard surface when you felt like your feet wouldn't carry you for much longer. You leaned your head back in exhaustion, letting yourself relax for at least a few minutes. God, how you wished to be home in your bed right now, your mother sitting in the living room and watching her typical shows. You missed those times. So much.
Thinking about your mother was always hard. Losing her was the biggest loss you ever had to face in your life. She was always a very loving and caring person and you were so incredibly thankful for the good life she was able to give to you. Not having a father figure made you both grow really close, making her not just your mother but also your best friend.
It was truly-
Your thoughts got interrupted when you heard a loud grunt echoing through the woods and your first reflex was to jump up from the sitting position you were in and look around you in quick motions. You couldn't see anything near you - no danger or somthing that could cause you any harm. You were about to continue walking when you heard yet another grunt.
You pondered for a moment before you decided to walk into the direction the noises were coming from. You had no idea why you did what you did but something inside you told you it was the right thing. You picked up a stick from the ground just in case you had to defend yourself.
It only took you a few seconds to find the source of the noises and your mouth opened in pure shock as you watched to scene in front of you. Right there, on the ground in a forest, was a man lying on his back with his arms high above him, trying to hold a dead person away from him. Its head was dangerously close to the strangers face, its teeth making a loud sound as it tried to take a bite.
You were frozen for a moment, not knowing what exactly you should do - not that there was much you could do. You were weakened because of the days you had to get thorugh without having any food. You thought about turning around and hide once again but you quickly decided against it. Instead, you thightened the grip you had on the stick in your hand because you had to at least try and help the man.
So you took all the braveness you had left inside of you together and moved as fast as you possibly could, raising your arm and smacking the stick against the creatures head with force. Your hit forced the dead person to let go of the man and roll over the tiniest bit. It wasn't much but it was enough for the man to get back on his feet and grab the crossbow - which was leaning against a tree a few meters away - and pointed it at the creature. One of his arrows pierced through its head right when it started to walk into your direction.
You winced slightly in fear and shock, staring at the body that was lying right in front of your feet, blood oozing out of the wound. Your hands were shaking as both, you and the man, were breathing heavily. Swallowing once, you slowly raised your eyes to look at the man you just saved and your heart started beating even more wildly when you saw that the crossbow was now directed at you.
"Drop it," the man spoke and the gruffness his voice was holding sent a shiver down your spine. You were confused for a second until you realised that he was talking about your stick. You found it quite weird - funny almost - how he seemed to feel threatened by a simple stick while he was holding a damn crossbow. Still, you had no wish to die so you dropped the stick slowly, letting it fall to the ground with a quiet thump.
It was quiet between the both of you and only after a minute of silence did you decide to speak to him, "I don't mean any harm."
He didn't answer but his eyes stayed on you, studying you for a few more seconds before he finally decided to lower his weapon as he seemed to realise that you had saved him and that you definitely weren't armed besides that pathetic little stick. He looked around in hopes of seeing the squirrel he had been hunting but when he didn't, he turned around and started walking away.
Your body reacted before your mind could even catch up as you took a few quick and fast steps after him, "Wait- wait a second." And once again you didn't know why you did it but you hadn't had a conversation with another living person in days and it made you desperate. You didn't want him to go - didn't want to be all alone again, just waiting for one of those things to catch you.
He stopped abruptly and turned around in one swift movement. The words seemed to die in your throat at the look he gave you. His eyes were glaring at you and they seemed so distant - almost cold - and they were intimidating you to no beyond.
"Ya gonna talk or what?"
His southern accent was thick and filled your ears, causing you to stay silent for a few more seconds, just staring at him before you finally found your voice again, "Sorry I-," you paused for a moment beacuse you didn't even know what exactly you wanted to say to him, you just knew that you didn't want him to leave you alone, "Where are you going?"
He furrowed his eyebrows into an even harder glare and let out a small scoff as if he couldn't believe that you had actually asked him such a thing. It made you shrink back even more, rocking on your feet in nervousness.
"None of yer damn business," he grumbled quietly and you honestly didn't know what you expected since it only made sense that he wouldn't tell a complete stranger anything about himself. Still, you didn't give up and once he turned around and started walking once again, you spoke up for a third time.
"Please, don't leave me here," you felt ridiculous begging him like that but he was the only chance you had. It had been days since you last saw a living person - another human being - and you just weren't ready to let go of the situation beacuse who knew when you were going to meet somebody else - if you would meet somebody else, "It has been days since I've last eaten or had something to drink. If you have a safe place to stay, please, take me with you."
He looked at you again and was suprised to see tears forming in your eyes. He continued walking as a another scoff left his lips, "Ya don' really think I'd take a stranger with me, do ya?"
His quiestion made you shrug to which he gave you a side glance, "Please," was all you could say even though you knew that it probably wouldn't do much to convince him but you still tried because, what else were you supposed to do?
Your pleading made him think about it more than he would have liked because as much as he didn't want to admit it, he woul've been dead if you wouldn't have saved him and you actually didn't seem that bad. He wasn't sure if he was even allowed to bring people back to the camp since he and his brother were pretty new there as well and big, mighty Shane was the 'leader' - at least that's what he liked to call himself - making all the decisions. He had to roll his eyes at the mere thought of that guy.
Then again, he really didn't care about Shane's opinions since he and his brother would leave them soon anyway. So whatever impact you could or would have on the group wouldn't be his problem. That's what convinced him.
He gave you one last look before he nodded, "If ya even think 'bout doin' somethin' stupid-"
He didn't have to finsish his sentence as you nodded your head, "I won't."
He gave you another nod before he continued walking and you took that as your clue to follow him. His steps were big and fast, making it quite hard for you to follow him. Other than your heavy breathing and loud steps, everything was quiet, giving you time to actually think about your current situation. The realisation that you wouldn't be alone anymore almost brought a smile to your face. Almost.
"So, what's your name?"
The man walking in front of you looked behind him at the sound of your voice, an annyoed expression forming on his face, almost making you feel bad for speaking up.
"Daryl," he answered eventually, his voice only a quiet grumble. You nodded and waited for him to ask about you but when he didn't, you told him your name on your own accord.
"I'm (y/n)," your voice was almost as quiet as a whisper and when he didn't show any reaction at all, you thought that he didn't hear you but he did nod eventually. You quickly understood that he was a man of very few words or maybe it was just because it was you. Either way, the walk was quiet and neither of you said another word.
It took about an hour until you finally reached a bigger group of people. You were walking up a small hill before you stopped in your tracks at the amount of humans in front of you. 14 - you could count 14 faces - 15 with Daryl and 16 with you. It took you a moment to get out of the trance you were in because you really didn't expect to ever see such a large group of living people again.
Your eyes widened when you saw a man walking towards you and Daryl in fast steps and by the look on his face, you could only assume he wasn't happy.
"What the fuck?" the man raised his voice, shaking his head in disbelief as he eyed you before he looked at Daryl, "What the fuck is this?"
Daryl shook his head in annoyance and rolled his eyes at the man because, really, who did he think he was? He walked past Shane as a scowl formed on his lips, "Found 'er in the woods," was all he answered with a small shrug of his shoulders.
You felt incredibly out of place as you watched to two men arguing with each other and the lingering looks of the rest of the group made you feel even worse. They were looking at you as if you were some kind of enemy - an outsider - and you knew that nobody really wanted you here. So you lowered your head until all you could see was the dirty ground - the only escape you had.
How could you bring her with you?
She's a stranger!
You're putting us all in danger!
The male voices got louder and if the world wouldn't have been so fucked up, you would've turned around and left as fast as your feet could've carried you. You lifted your head in shock when you felt someone standing in front of you, hiding the sun from you.
"Make yourself useful if you wanna stay here," the man spoke harshly, staring you down, "And don't even try anything stupid, understood?"
Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to find your words but after a few seconds of silence you simply nodded instead of saying something.
He nodded as well and placed one and on his hip, lifting the other to point into the direction of a few women, "Go and help them do the laundry."
You would have given him a piece of your mind if you weren't so damn desperate for a place to stay, so instead of telling him how disrespecful he was being and that you were far more useful, you gave him a slight smile and nodded once again before walking away. You could feel their eyes burning holes into your body as your feet carried you to the pair of women.
You waved softly and murmured a quiet 'hey' as you reached them. They stared at you with a look you couldn't fully describe but you would say it was something between fear and uncertainty before one of them spoke up.
"I'm Carol," the woman spoke while she looked anywhere but your eyes and you thought that she seemed just as shy as you, which kinda comforted you. She had really short hair, most of it being gray already, her eyes blue, and her very thin lips were formed into a very slim smile.
"Lori," the other woman said with a small nod. She was beautiful. Long, wavy, brown hair that matched the color of her eyes and her lips were also formed into a smile.
The fact that they were being nice and pretty much friendly to you eased your discomfort a little more, so you let your own smile play on your lips, "(y/n)."
You walked closer until you were standing next to Carol and you decided to follow the mans instructions, copying the womens actions and hanging the soaked pieces of cloth on the clothes line. It almost felt good because it gave you a sense of the life you had been living just a few weeks ago. The three of you made slight conversation - basic smalltalk, them mostly trying to get to know you a little bit better - and before you knew it, the work was done - the laundry basket empty.
"Is there anything else I can help you with?" you asked the two women you were hoping would become your friends soon but before one of them could answer your quiestion, there was a much deeper voice sounding from behind you.
"Hey there," you turned around and were greeted by a man looking at you with kind eyes. He was pretty old you would guess, his beard and hair painted gray and white, "I'm Dale," he offered you his hand to shake, which you accepted a bit hesitantly, "Thought I'd give you a tent so you have a place to sleep in. You're lucky, I had a spare one in the back of my RV," he gave you a bag that he had been holding in his other hand.
The smile that showed on your lips was the most genuine one in a long time, your tensed shoulders relaxing at the kindness he was showing you, "Thank you, Dale." He grinned before walking away again, leaving you with Carol and Lori.
"Go and set it up," Lori said, "We're going to cook in the mean time."
You didn't argue much, they managed to do it without you before so they'll definetily manage now. With a nod you searched for an empty spot and quickly found one. It took you a while until you were finally finished, it being harder than you thought it would be. It was pretty dark by the time you were done and when you looked around you could see the group starting to eat.
You opened the zipper of your tent, sitting down softly and watching them from afar. After all it wasn't your food to eat and you didn't feel like you had a right to sit with them as if you were one of them. You were sure most of them still didn't like nor trust you. Carol walked by after a few minutes, holding a bowl of something to eat and stopping once she saw you alone, "You don't wanna sit with us?"
You shrugged, "I just- I don't wanna intrude."
She scoffed a bit, it almost sounded like a chuckle, "You're not. Come on, I'm sure you're hungry."
She was right, you really were hungry and as if your stomach heard Carol as well, it decided to grumble right in that moment. You blushed a bit when her smile widened but stood up and nodded with an 'okay'. You followed her as she brought you to the rest of the group and once again their eyes were on you - some kind, others not so kind - but you tried to ignore it as best as you could as Carol gave you a bowl of food. Your eyes locked with Daryl's for a second but the glare he gave you made you look away only a second later.
And you actually felt quite okay because even though you had lost a home, you felt like you just found a home.
Chapter 2
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alessiamalfoyzabini · 2 months
Text
Happy Ending | EXTRA 02 | Because I love you
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Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader
Word Count | 3,494
Warnings | +18, presence of a lot of blood, a dead body, Jungkook is absolutely crazy here, dark atmosphere, MC is deeply shocked, many tears, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, anger, angst, smut dubcon, raw sex in the shower, vaginal penetration, yandere themes, touches and kisses, this is a yandere story, be careful.
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This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.
I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.
This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.
Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.
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⤷ Summary | You have finally discovered Jungkook's dark secret, are you ready to accept the man you have come to love?
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➢ Author's Note | Happy birthday to me!!! 🥰🥰🥰 To celebrate I decided to post the second extra of Happy Ending, let me know if you like it! 💕
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Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @douknowbts, @aiiselle90210, @fewercascade , @mageprincess7, @m00njinnie, @get-that-brain-working, @whipwhoops
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➢ EXTRA 01
➢ Main Story
➢ Spin - Off | Dark Moon || PJM
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She really didn't want to ignore what Jungkook told her.
But she was alone in that new house, it was so dark, and the storm outside was terrifying her as it had not in a long time.
Something strange vibrated in the air that evening, something that moved under her skin like a snake and caused long chills of frost.
She clutched tightly with her other hand the gold ring that proved their marriage had taken place, it had been strange to see all those unfamiliar faces taking part in the ceremony, it had seemed to her more like a business meeting than actual nuptials, but the most important thing was being together, Jungkook had clutched at her all the time to make her understand.
Now she needed him, who was in the basement working on something, he had not told her exactly what he was working on, he had simply made her promise that she would not go down there for any reason in the world, with or without him.
Deglutinating slightly in front of the door in question, it was tall and dark, imposing and terribly menacing, she was about to turn back to their bedroom when a thunderclap far louder than the previous ones made her jump on the spot with a squeak, she grabbed the handle pulling it toward her and cast a glance at the dimly lit stairs that were supposed to lead downward.
With a sigh she took her first steps, barefoot and with only a thin nightgown to protect her from the drafts of that place, the further she went the more she could hear strange noises expanding throughout the flight of stairs, she squinted wondering what the hell her husband was up to.
"Jungkook?" she whispered with her arms wrapped around her own body in a vain attempt to protect herself from anything that might harm her.
Another painful noise to her strained ears left her speechless, maybe... maybe Jungkook had hurt himself?
She hastened her steps with anxiety painfully gripping her chest, flung open the small door that separated her from the smaller room, and what she saw left her breathless.
There was blood, so much blood, everywhere.
On the work table were scattered numerous weapons, all of them ominous-looking, but even more grotesque was the lifeless form of a man slumped badly in a chair, his feet were bound by a chain and his arms behind his back had received the same treatment, his dark hair and skin were premeared with red, viscous liquid, his swollen, ashen face confirmed what the girl was thinking. He was dead.
A high-pitched, shrill scream left her throat, she brought her trailing hands to her pale lips and began to take small steps backward, her breath coming less and less.
Who was he? No. Why was he there? What the hell had happened in there?!
She turned like lightning to run away from that horrific sight, but blocking her escape she found her husband himself, staring at her with a stern, icy, frightening expression. His imposing shoulders covered the door, preventing her from running away like a terrified mouse.
Y/N sobbed harshly at the sight of his bloodstained clothes; she could not believe it, he... he...
"You promised you'd never come down here," he said reproachfully, furrowing his brow and wondering why she had preferred to leave the warmth of their bed to go down into that hellhole.
Y/N shook her head, "N-No... I-I just wanted to... Please, let me out" she cried with less and less breath, trying to get as far away from him as possible, but in doing so she collided with the table. She was stuck.
Jungkook approached her slowly, holding a threadbare dishcloth in his hands, "Aish...look at your lovely little feet," he huffed, Y/N cast a glance at her bare feet, they were completely soiled, "You shouldn't have seen any of this," he continued with a twinge of displeasure in his gaze.
When he reached her Y/N found herself stiffening, afraid of a possible violent reaction, but nothing of what she feared happened.
Jungkook hugged her to himself, cradling her against his strong chest as if before his eyes he did not have a girl in the throes of a nervous cry, but only a puppy to comfort.
"You didn't have to find out like this, although I'm actually relieved...it's a part of me that I couldn't keep secret forever, I was tired of lying to you in fact," he murmured into her hair, leaving a tender kiss that didn't match the surroundings and situation.
"What does it all mean, Jungkook? What is going on? What are you doing?" she sobbed shakily, terribly shattered by the aberrant sight of the man behind her lifeless.
Jungkook tenderly caressed her cheeks, his expression softened by a note of adoration. Y/N was beautiful even with fear written all over her face.
"That's what I am, my love," he admitted, "I didn't want to scare you, so I never told you anything, I knew it would be hard for you to understand."
A light bulb went off in the young woman's brain, Seokjin and the evenings he made Jungkook spend away from home.
"You kill people," she huffed, lacking strength.
"I don't kill people, I deal with those who deserve punishment," he emphasized harshly, "They are bad men, Y/N...I just clean up."
Y/N cast another glance at the body, but had to look away immediately to prevent herself from vomiting her dinner, she staggered into her husband's arms, close to fainting.
The nauseating smell in the tiny room was making her feel sick.
"Was he a bad person, too?" she whimpered, praying for an affirmative answer, something to help her accept such a truth.
Her heart was torn.
Her husband was a murderer, but the love she felt for him was so strong and suffocating that, even with such knowledge weighing on her small shoulders, she was unable to turn away from him.
Jungkook's dark irises sparkled brightly, understanding the meaning behind his wife's words.
"He was, he hurt a lot of girls before I managed to catch him, I'm sorry I brought him here," he said truly regretful, "Our house should not be infected by certain beings, but tonight I had to make a break from the rule of not bringing work home."
He spoke of killing as to a job, Y/N did not know how long it had been going on or who he was working with, she just wanted to go back and forget whatever she had seen or heard that night.
"I...I don't know who you are," she murmured with tears in her eyes, "I don't know who you are and I'm afraid," she cried harder hitting him in the chest, she didn't even know what she was saying.
She felt split in two, she was scared but also very, very angry.
Why had he not told her such a thing earlier? Why had he forced her to discover his secret in such a revolting way?!
Jungkook let her do it without moving a single muscle; he knew too that it was difficult for her to accept it, but he was also sure that she would.
She was his woman, she would never let him down.
"I'm still the same, Y/N," he whispered in her ear, leaving a small kiss on her temple.
"Jungkook, I have to-" I have to get out of here.
"I'll clean up everything of course! Honey, I'm sorry...I know you hate to see dirt everywhere," he made crucified and sorry, Y/N could not believe her ears, according to him that was what was making her sick to her stomach?, "Come here," he hummed as he brought his face closer to the girl's face, took her gently by the cheeks and pressed his lips to the girl's, heedless of the blood on his fingers that soiled the soft skin, Y/N groaned in disgust.
"Jungkook, what the hell!"
"Y/N" the boy's dark, predatory eyes caged her, his lost expression troubled her, "I need you now," he begged grabbing her by the hips, pushing her against the table he badly scanned away the objects and made her lie down on that hard surface, not giving her a chance to disentangle herself from his grip, so strong was he.
Y/N screamed breathlessly, frightened and confused.
The boy towered over her with his entire size, adoring the sight of his wife now sharing the same secret with him.
"What do you want to do here?!" she shrieked in a high-pitched voice, looking around as if mad.
Her legs were unceremoniously spread wide, she peered breathlessly at her husband's lost face.
There was something they both loved to do sometimes, sex without foreplay.
There was something arousing about entering her still tight and rigid because they were too aroused to give themselves time, it was exciting the way she got wet quickly after the first thrusts, and Y/N loved feeling him hard and mighty in her.
Reduced as he was like that, he could not venture to touch her too much; therefore, he found it was the right time to take advantage of that wild way of joining.
"You like raw sex, don't you, love?" he asked without really expecting an answer, Y/N squeaked looking at him like he was crazy, "Take my cock," he growled leaving her speechless.
He forcefully pushed his taut erection against her covered core and Y/N shuddered breathlessly, her brain shut down at her husband's subtle growl.
"Don't make me repeat myself, sweetheart," he licked his wife's lips, cupping her face in his bloody hands, ignoring how the viscous liquid uncomfortably smeared the woman's soft skin.
She moved like a robot, unzipping his pants and pulling out Jungkook's heavy cock, he practically purred against her mouth, kissing her again, "Look at me, my love, just me" he murmured to her teary eyes, moved his hips against her hand, his cock already stiff and throbbing, spurring her on.
"Jungkook..." she pulled up with her nose, tightening her lips indecisively on what to do, watching the door behind her husband, "Please don't make me do it here," she pleaded, causing him to freeze.
He frowned, he had never forced her to take him and she had never refused sexual intercourse with him, finally fully understanding her discomfort.
He kissed her forehead, sighing against her warm skin, before pulling away disgruntled.
If Y/N thought she was finally free, she had to think again, in front of her Jungkook began to strip off his soiled clothes, throwing them to the ground with a resounding slap! Soon his perfect, blood-stained body was completely naked, heedless of the confusion printed on his young wife's face.
He unceremoniously took her in his arms, Y/N dared not move to refuse the contact, aware that Jungkook could keep calm up to a certain point and then... there was that dark curiosity that made her wonder what he would do next.
They walked back up the stairs to the basement, Y/N took one last look at the lifeless body in the room and shuddered, that would be an image she would never forget, she let her forehead fall back on the boy's smoothly sculpted chest wearily, casting a glance at the hallway they were walking down she noticed that the boy's goal was to get to the shower room they had recently had installed in the new house.
They had moved into a new house after the wedding, she was so happy, she would be able to leave behind those first terrible memories she had of the four walls, too bad that now even those were filthy with a new and terrible event. She swallowed the nonexistent saliva, trying to chase away the stench of death that accompanied them both.
"Y/N," Jungkook began, holding her tenderly in his strong arms, he entered the shower with her before beginning to undress her, the woman shivered from the cold, she had almost forgotten about the storm howling outside, "I would never hurt you, you know that, yes?"
He bent down slightly so he could look into her eyes, but Y/N escaped his scrutinizing gaze.
"Look at me." he intimated firmly, he took her chin between two fingers, forcing her again to point her irises into his dark ones, when they bonded once more Jungkook threw himself on her lips, claiming them with possession and desire, the grip he maintained on her face was soft, however, as if he wanted her to know that she was safe with him and she had to give in to that passion, she returned that contact with desperation, trying to bury in the meanders in her mind what she had discovered that night.
Jungkook groaned smugly, grasping her thighs securely to allow her to bind her legs to his hips, her back stuck to the glass of the cabin, soon after she felt the jet of water hit them and she screamed in surprise, widening her eyes.
At their feet the water began to run crimson, as bewitched she ran her hands over her husband's chest, rubbing away those terrible stains, the signature of the sin committed by the man a few meters away. She did not want to look him in the eye, not at that moment as she passed to clean the arms that held her.
"Y/N-."
"Shut up!" she exclaimed in a broken voice, shedding more tears that mingled with the still flowing water.
Jungkook's wet hair stuck to his forehead and the tips touched his wide-open eyes. He looked like a little fawn caught by surprise.
He should not have had such an innocent look, even his red lips should not have been so sweet and tantalizing.
"You've been lying to me all this time, and just like that you bring a dead body into my house," she hissed, driving her nails into the boy's forearms, "You're a fucking crazy bastard," she continued snarling, exploding for the first time that way.
The boy watched her for a few moments without saying a word, before a grin spread across his otherwise angelic face.
"You may well be right, my sweetest wife," he laughed softly, "But to take you away with me and save you from that miserable life of yours I certainly could not be normal, those who love cannot afford to be normal," the tips of their noses touched as he blew those words at her and entered her with a slow thrust, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut as her unready pussy recognized the cock of the man she loves, Jungkook sadistically pushed deeper, enjoying the relaxed progress, he knew that she was experiencing a burning sensation that she secretly adored.
"Those who love cannot be normal," she repeated as she clutched at his chest, that phrase continued countless times in her mind as Jungkook underscored that thought by shaking her body repeatedly with direct and precise strokes, feverishly kissing her lost face.
She rested her head against the glass of the shower, letting the jet of water cloud her vision as her walls moistened around the man's increasingly tense cock, beginning to flicker more and more intoxicated by that forbidden pleasure, accompanying Jungkook's gradually more frequent and devouring moans.
"I fucking love you! You're perfect," he said through clenched teeth in her ear, growling at yet another squeeze of her abused and needy core, "Y/N, without you everything I do would be meaningless," he confessed, kissing her full cheek before brushing her face with his forehead, hiding his expression from her.
But his tears Y/N felt anyway, and it was the first time she could feel him so vulnerable.
Perhaps that night had not been upsetting only for her.
"J-Jungkook," she stammered, stopping short when the thick tip of his cock hit a particularly sensitive spot, her thighs glistening with water trembled as she increased her grip on his sculpted body, "I believe you, but no more secrets or-... work at home," she begged him with a knot in her throat, accepting without more strength what he was.
Those who love cannot be normal.
The boy nodded instantly, leaving small kisses on her chest, taking a sensitive nipple in his mouth, then going up her tender throat to her lips.
"Do you love me?" he rotated his hips expertly, making light contact with the young woman's swollen, tense clitoris, which at that point trembled uncontrollably.
"Mpf! -Kook!"
"Tell me, fuck! Tell me again, like you always do every day and every night; when I hold you, when I look at you, when I fuck you so good you lose your mind," he ordered in a raw voice, ready to make his cock explode inside her womb, wanting to offer her a little life that was already ready to grow with her.
He slammed into her several times violently, the glass shuddered furiously, and Y/N's eyes automatically closed at the powerful orgasm that shook her to her bowels, followed by the boy's copious jets of cum that filled her completely.
"I love you," she whimpered against his neck, trying to block her husband's last thrusts by clutching her walls, making them both gasp, "It's impossible for me to imagine a life without you, I could never leave you," she sobbed, completely exhausted and overcome by that all-consuming awareness.
"That is exactly the effect you have on me, my love... see? Together we are our everything, we don't need anything else."
The water was now flowing clear and clear, every trace of what had taken place in the basement had been buried.
Jungkook shut off the shower spray, got the girl down from his arms and immediately covered her with a large clean towel, helped her gently, kissing every visible patch of skin from time to time as he finished drying it thoroughly, it was a ritual now and there was no trace in him of the crazy man he had been almost an hour before.
In the bedroom he helped her brush out her damp hair, the next day it would be an unwatchable tangle of strands, but she really didn't have the strength or patience to even think of drying it with a hair dryer, she just wanted to sleep for hours on end. Jungkook on the other hand brushed the damp locks with joy, he loved their softness and shine, his little woman was gorgeous in every way.
"Let's go to bed, honey," he crooned, "You're about to collapse," he chuckled, snapping a noisy kiss on her forehead, missing the effect it had on the girl, who watched him with a lighter heart and a blank mind.
She fell asleep wrapped in her husband's arms, her head buried in the hollow between his neck and shoulder, lost in that sweet and inviting body heat, inhaling Jungkook's delicious scent.
He waited patiently for her to fall into Morpheus's arms before moving slowly, untangling their bodies from the firm grip that Y/N unconsciously tried to maintain, he sighed discontentedly.
He did not like the idea of parting with his beloved, but there was a filthy worm that had to be disposed of as soon as possible before it plagued their beautiful home with its stench.
The next day Y/N lazily opened her eyes, the sun's rays had long since penetrated the room, and stretched herself thoroughly before getting up and putting her feet on the floor.
She looked around for her husband, but he was not there.
In return she sensed voices whispering in the living room, frowned remembering that they were expecting no one that day, put on her Stitch slippers, a gift from Jungkook to tease her because of her endless love for the little being, and clasping her arms to her chest went to "investigate" the mysterious guest.
A dark-haired head and a blond-haired head turned in her direction when she gave evidence of her presence, her eyes widened.
Jungkook and Kim Seokjin both looked at her with a smile.
Suddenly memories of the night before flooded her mercilessly, causing her to gasp for breath.
She had accepted that she had to share Jungkook with that life, but the images of what she had seen still remained horrifying, and the smile they were both giving her sent shivers down her spine.
"You're awake!" exclaimed Jungkook cheerfully, leaving her interjected.
He was bursting with happiness for a reason still unknown to her.
"Jungkook, what..."
"Y/N."
Seokjin's quiet voice stopped her, she shifted her gaze to the man in silence, he had always given her the impression that he knew more than he wanted to reveal, her ex-principal had always been a mystery to her and now she had concrete certainty.
"Welcome officially to the family, Mrs. Jeon."
Jungkook's eyes shone euphorically, thus expressing his pride, Y/N instead observing Seokjin's angelic features understood that the devil had a face and a name.
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