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#what fanfiction kind of good shit is this I LOVE IT
leatherbookmark · 8 months
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i love how passionate and emotional fic seongjoong is when irl they're like... an arranged marriage... lol
#not to say that they don't like each other or anything but. atz in particular seem quite aware (and not hiding it) of the practice of#ships -- not as in 'fans produce fanworks of you' but rather 'fans like your dynamics! play it up a little'#and the leader + the second 'highest' member are almost always shipped together as the 'mom' and 'dad'#which kind of doesn't make sense because a marriage usually precedes having children but in kpop is like. well here's a group and you're#two eldest members so you automatically get the mom/dad positions. sometimes it works -- whether automatically or because the#aforementioned members feel the need to take care of other members as they're the eldest -- but sometimes the dynamic is clearly#just there for the fans. and i can't help but notice that a whole bunch of 'moments' in 'seongjoong compilations' are like... not authentic#moments of them enjoying their time together but them being awkward/having awkward banter/doing fanservice during fanmeetings#and that's Different from the organic air ie woosan have#this is not to make fun of seongjoong fans because I PERSONALLY put very dramatic seongjoong in my hashtag Fic Verse#but then my fic verse was kickstarted because of that hwalazia magic and a single line in atz diary from fever 1. so it is. shall we say.#not particularly canon-inspired.#but i WOULD kill and die for every single fanfiction in which seongjoong aren't romantic sweethearts at the first sight but rather Struggle#i feel like Struggling is this... sort of a facet of their Brand... and so is mutually taking care of each other lol#they're like. this arranged marriage couple who grew to care about each other. not like 'oh shit two months in i realized i'm incredibly in#love with my spouse!' but 'yeah yknow what i like you here. stay'#good afternoon everyone enjoy this meandering and probably incorrect analysis of a relationship between two kpop lads#shrimp thoughts
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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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nctstar · 19 days
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Can I get a smut of Johnny suh using his size and strength kink on a petite female Y/N? Thank you~
heyy! i'm so sorry this is absurdly late :(( but hope you still like it! <3
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Wasting no time to rid himself of his clothes, he spoke. “This room is fine, right?” Muscles bulging as he fiddled with his shirt, the ridges of his chest drawing in the singlet, you bit your finger almost comically. “Hello? Earth to _?” The brown of his eyes were soft, a sharp contrast to his stature. He smirked, his hair bouncing as he threw his head back slightly. “Like what you see?”
pairing: johnny suh x fem!reader
other members: none
word count: 2.4k
genre: romance, smut
warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! as per the request the reader is smaller than Johnny but I refrained from describing body parts or her specific size or anything like that, she is just short. if you're sensitive to this kind of talk though maybe don't read <3 mild profanity, lots of kissing, johnny carries reader, manhandling, descriptions of johnny's torso and body throughout, dirty talk about the size of his ding dong schlong, mild degradation (use of slut), ripping clothes bc those muscles do more than lift weights <3, clitoral stimulation/fingering, reader is pretty slutty and dumb during sex (aren't we all), missionary sex, praising (sweet girl, good girl), condom use, talking after sex (post nut clarity fr)
disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 
a/n: i have been in such a writer's slump particularly with smut! like i think i need some time off to write some good fics and some good smut, so i'm sorry anon and to all my lovely readers if this is shit :(
“Now why would he ever say that?” You peeked at your friend pacing around your small room through your hair. Scissors in one hand, your (new) bangs in the other, you winced. “Wait, girl, I made a mistake I think.”
She sighed as you let the strands flutter across your forehead, uneasiness settling in your stomach. “Didn’t you follow what he said?” Brad Mondo’s curtain bangs tutorial continued in the background as you turned your head expectantly from side to side. Your friend held your head in place with open palms, looking at you through the mirror. “It’s actually kinda cute. Makes you look…well…”
“Don’t say small.” She snorted, bringing a hand to her face to unsuccessfully cover her mouth. “I don’t care, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”
You pushed yourself off the stool, rolling your eyes as you started undressing. “He didn’t mean it like that.” Your belt clinked as your jeans fell to the carpet, and you started bringing your shirt over your heard. “I’m sure it was his way of complimenting me.” Despite all your efforts, you couldn’t stop the annoyance that cemented your words into place. “I guess.”
“Girl, you need to tell him that it bothers you.”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
“Yeah, and it’s not weird to call some girl you’ve been on two dates with small.”
The doorbell cut through the air, making you both jump. “Shit. It’s like he heard or something.”
“Shit. Wait, just let him in and get him to wait downstairs. Okay?” Sudden panic was settling into your body, making your hands shake. Your friend got the message and hurried downstairs, zipping her skirt up in record time while hobbling downstairs. “Hope I don’t smell like chicken. I hate having shifts on Fridays.”
Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you pulled the skirt over the curves of your thighs and butt, watching the way it held onto your body. Stuffing the ends of the top into the skirt, you walked over to pick out a pair of shoes.
“I’m heading out! Johnny’s waiting down here!” Your friend’s voice made your body do the kind of useless flurry that it does whenever you know you’re running out of time, and you drag out the highest heels you own. Small, my ass.
“Hey!” As usual, he softened his frame when he saw you, placing his hands in his pockets and smiling so big so you would forget to feel intimidated by his 6-foot stature, or rock-hard physique. His eyes were like small moons, bursting on his face whenever he smiled. “Hey, nice bangs.” You instinctively went to fiddle with them, silently cursing yourself for messing them up. “Thanks.” Your smile was a little forced, but you were giddy to see him, your body rocking back and forth without your permission, ankles rubbing against each other.
“The pasta was so good,” you couldn’t stop raving, your hips knocking into Johnny as he walked you home, arms linked. “Like seriously, Johnny. So good.”
He laughed, the sound leaving him effortlessly. “I’m so glad you liked it. I remember the pasta here being amazing, but I was worried you would think I’m cheap or not taking you seriously. The place being run down and all.” You shook your head, your bangs shuffling from side to side as you did. “No, of course not. I would rather eat something good on the street than a tiny portion of something small and pretentious at an upscale place.”
He hummed, moonlight hitting his body, softening some angles and sharpening others, hair glowing golden brown as he walked. Your heels clacked against the linoleum of your front porch as you wondered whether your friend was home, but before you could reach for the front door, your knees buckled. You let out a small gasp as you felt Johnny’s arms around your body, pinching into your skin almost uncomfortably. “Oh shit! I’m okay, babe.” You both froze at the sudden nickname, his arms loosening around you as you straightened up. You shakily continued. “U-uhm, sorry, I mean-“
“I think your shoes broke.”                                                                   
Yeah, no shit, you wanted to bite back. But you held your tongue, frustration seeping through your pores as you held onto the rail, Johnny hovering protectively over you as you took the right heel off, now newly broken in two pieces. “Oh my god. These were so expensive! Ugh!”
“It’s okay. Maybe I can buy you another pair. Babe.” He said the last word almost sarcastically, and you glared at him. “Johnny.”
“I’m serious. I’m sorry those broke so easily. I’ll bring a new pair next time?”
“Johnny, wait.”
“You like me, right?” His face crumpled just a tiny bit. Not exaggerated like in the movies or anything, so subtle you would never notice from afar, or if you weren’t close. You warmed at the thought of knowing him so closely, so well, enough to know that something was not right in the lines of his eyebrows.
You gulped, not knowing how to respond.
“I feel like you kinda hate me.” He crinkled his nose when he said hate, almost sarcastically, but his tone jabbed you straight in the chest. You shook your head. No, of course not, you wanted to say. I like you. I like you so much. But I am small to you. I wonder if you think of me as small. Do YOU like me?
“I just, I don’t like being small.” He frowned, and so did you, the words sounding stupid as soon as they filled the small space between your bodies. “I mean, you called me small the other day. And I know you probably, well, definitely, meant it as a cute thing. Like physically. Like a term of endearment, you know? But, I don’t wanna be seen as small, like more than physically. You know what I mean?” You cringed internally at your words, watching him stare blankly back at you.
“Right.”
“I’m so sorry. I sound like such a jerk. I don’t mean to be hung up over one little word you said.” You bit your lip, tasting the remnants of your lipstick on your tongue. “It’s just what made me feel a little weird. But, I do like you, Johnny.” Your heart raced as you looked up at him. Your body moved without permission for the umpteenth time, and your arms melted around his hips, fingers splaying across the small of his back. Your mind screamed at you, but your body ignored it, burning up from within.
Tentatively, he brought one hand to your chin, skin warm but rough on yours. “I don’t think low of you. I never have. I just think you’re so fucking gorgeous. So perfect the way you are.” The butterflies in your stomach were now dancing, free, leaping over hills and grassy plains. “Sorry for the poor choice of words.”
You smiled, some of the tension leaving you as you let your bodies merge seamlessly, like lanes on an open road, like the sun as it meets the horizon. You kicked off your other shoe, standing on your tiptoes to meet his lips with yours. He tentatively glazed his hands over your sides, making you shiver and moan into his mouth. You brought your fingers to the nape of his neck, savouring the taste. “Mmm, Johnn-“
You yelped when he gripped your thigh, guiding it to press against his hips. “Jump up for me, baby.” You giggled, nodding as you straddled him, his torso gently rebounding back with your weight. As you met his lips once more, dragging your forearms across the top of his shoulders, you heard your front door open and close, the door to the downstairs bedroom fling wide open. As your back hit the bed, your hair splayed out onto the fresh sheets, knees bent, lipstick smeared.
Wasting no time to rid himself of his clothes, he spoke. “This room is fine, right?” Muscles bulging as he fiddled with his shirt, the ridges of his chest drawing in the singlet, you bit your finger almost comically. “Hello? Earth to _?” The brown of his eyes were soft, a sharp contrast to his stature. He smirked, his hair bouncing as he threw his head back slightly. “Like what you see?”
“Uh huh.” All the shame left your body as you drew circles on his body and face with your eyes, letting his thick frame tower over you. “Is this okay?” He breathed into your collarbone, and when you nodded fervently, you felt his lips suck and nip at your neck. Gasping, you gripped onto his neck, letting your ankles hook around the back of his jean-clad legs. “Y-yes. Yes please. Don’t tease, I want y-you so much.”
“Yeah?” He played with the buttons of your top, but you stopped him. “I can’t wait…just rip it off, please. I need you. Right now. Please, just use me. I know you can.” He drew an eyebrow upwards, and you almost felt a slight twinge of embarrassment until you heard the top rip, cold air exposing your lace bra, tits bulging as you arched your chest off the bed. “What a slut. Is this what you wanted all along?” He laughed as you wriggled under him, mouth latching onto the tops of your boobs. He released you only to throw your arms up, pinning your wrists down to the bed to watch your reaction. When you bit your lip in response, bringing your core closer to his, he laughed darkly. “Freak.”
“Yes, just for you, fuck, please.”
“Bet you’re just soaked under this tight little skirt. Want me to rip this off too?” You nodded before he could even finish his sentence, and the sound of your fabric ripping filled the air. “Mmm, just as I suspected.” As he dragged your panties down your thighs, you felt your wetness pool onto the sheets under you. “Please, please, hold me down and fuck me.” You whispered into his ear, letting your plump lips graze against his skin as you massaged the nape of his neck with your fingers. You whimpered when his jean-clad bulge bumped against your clit, the burn in your core growing with every passing second.
He kissed you deeply, pulling away at an agonising pace. “Tell me why, baby.” You whined, trying to gather some friction between your legs with no avail. His arms pinned yours to either side of your head, his legs like heavy weights against yours. “Please, I just, I want your cock i-inside me, w-want it to split me open…” He shook his head. “What makes you think I would do that to you? I’m too big for you, honey.”
You whined. “N-no, please. I don’t care, just, push it in me…” He laughed, kissing you. “Please, I want to feel so full…” He shushed you, sitting up to unbuckle his jeans. “Mmm, yes, yes please…” You were just babbling nonsense, the anticipation too intense to bear. His cock sprung out of his boxers, hitting his stomach, precum spilling out the edges of the tip. You heard him rip open a condom packet, dragging it on his length at lightning speed. He ran his cockhead through the folds of your pussy, making you whimper. “So wet.” He breathed, and you gasped as his tip entered you at an agonisingly slow place. “J-Johnny.” Your brain fought your body, wanting him to continue but feeling apprehensive at the impending stretch. “You’re so big. Fuck.” You snuck a hand down towards your clit, but Johnny grabbed your wrist, leaning over to kiss your chin. “Let me.” As he pressed one finger onto your core, you gasped, back arching, eyes squeezing shut. “O-oh, oh my…”
“You like that?” He started speeding up, your gasps and moans like drugs to his system. When he pulled away, he started pushing his length in, and you let out a deep breath, as if you had been holding it in the entire time. “Fuck.” You drawled, feeling him in every corner of your insides. “Fuck, Johnny. You’re, you’re so big, and s-strong.”
Johnny laughed, and you wondered for a second whether you had ruined the mood. “My cock making you lose your filter, babe?” You blushed, but the constant bump and stretch on your clit had your vision go foggy, your head spinning deliriously. You used your forearms to push away, breathing deeply as if his cock had suffocated you from the inside out. Johnny wrapped his arms around your hips, bringing you flush against his pelvis in one swift movement. “Uh uh, where do you think you’re going?” His snarkiness and the fulness in your lower stomach made your core squeeze excessively. “Ah, shit! Fuck, I think I’m gon-“ You felt it before you could finish your sentence, your climax stealing the words out of your mouth, making your heart thump incessantly against your ribcage.
Johnny cooed at your, his forearms now caging you by your head, peppering light kisses on your face. “You alright, sweet girl?” You nodded, gasping. “Please, please move.” He chuckled, groaning as he pulled back to thrust into you, making you throw your head back and scream. “Fuck, oh my god.” Your body shook with the force of his steady thrusts, his legs pinning your body down to the bed. “Good girl, that’s it.” He groaned, getting sloppier as he reached his climax. “You’re so good for me. So eager for me to pin you down and fuck you. Because I’m so big and strong, right?” You reached for Johnny’s neck, the embarrassment at your previous comments leaving you as you felt your core tighten, coil ready to snap. “Fuck, you just gripped me so tight, fuck. Nasty girl.” You moaned as you came, feeling him release inside the condom with a throaty moan.
Both of you heaving, gasping for air, you pulled Johnny close to your body, kissing his collarbone, his neck, his face. “I do like you, a lot.” Your breath tickled his skin as you spoke, and he stroked your hair gently with one hand, using the other to pull away from you to look into your eyes. “I’m sorry for calling you small. I admit, it’s a little weird.”
“Apology accepted. I think we’ve both called each other things we’re never gonna say again.”
“No, hon, you should always call me big and strong Johnny-“
“Johnny, please. Never mention that again. It was a moment of weakness!” You whined, shielding your face as he laughed, slipping off you to lie next to you on the bed. “Kinda sexy though.” You slapped his arm playfully, laughing as slipped down his forearm to take his hand in yours.
“I’ll think of something better for next time, promise.”
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sanspuppet · 6 months
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𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬 - 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
PAIRING: Yunho x fem!reader
RATING: smut (18+ MDNI)
W/T: colleagues to lovers, unprotected sex (do not), kinda rough sex, overstimulation, choking, mention of toys, creampie, pet names (doll, princess)
A/O: i want to thank @yuyusbunny for proofreading this fanfiction (i hope the next ones too) and helping me improving myself, lov u Laz 🫶🏻🫶🏻.
𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾
You were now walking down the street, your eyes clinging to your phone, searching for the nearest way to reach the bar that hired you the day before. You were messing with your left hand nervously, as you were trying to imagine your first day of work.
"It's very famous to be a bar, what if im not meant for it? Nah... they say the owner is very kind... i hope so."
Your best friend Jongho found this job for you, knowing that you were searching desperately for one, he was also a noticed costumer there, so when he mentioned you, it was almost like you were instantly accepted. Honestly you weren't into locals, that one was very well known in town, but you've never went there. A few minutes later, you were facing the entrance of the bar, the led writing with the name of it, as an attractor of attention. Flower, tiny trees and bonsais were decorating the outside, even if the local was recently open that morning, most of the tables were occupied by the people, drinking their coffees and eating something for breakfast.
"There it is..." you entered, hesitant, looking for your boss.
"Uhm... hello? Is there... a Jeong Yunho? Im y/n, the new employee." you asked at the bartender. He looked at you from head to toes, his smile making him look easily approachable.
"Oh, y/n! We finally meet, Jongho told me of you a few times. Wait a second, imma look for Yunho."
You leaned on your elbow on the counter, and tapped your fingers on the wood, while looking at the inside of the local. Soon after, you saw the figure of a tall man, heading towards you.
"Good morning."
you turned your head, looking at him. His low voice almost scared you for a second, despite his puppy eyes studying you. Meanwhile, you were already struggling to keep yourself composed:
"Shit, i didn't expect him to be this hot."
His black shirt, slightly unbottoned, was revealing his collarbones, and what it seemed the shadow of a tattoo.
"And he is supposed to be a barista??"
His cheekbones popped out when he smiled at you, revealing his sweet attitude.
"Im Yunho! Your boss, but i hope we'll get closer in the future, i'd like to be friends with my employees, if it doesn't bother you." You shaked your head, smiling back:
"Absolutely not! my name's y/n."
"My pleasure, come here, i'll teach you the work."
The day went great, the tasks were pretty easy, and you loved the chill mood created in that local, lounge bar music relaxing you and the costumers as they were waiting for you to serve their order. The only problem was that, everytime your boss was in your vicinity, checking you or just asking you to do something, your mind always blocked at his sight. No need to say because of his hotness, out of tune with his sweet personality, you'd say he's the perfect man.
"Y/n, can you come here?" you nodded and headed towards him, behind the counter.
"Yeah?"
"I need to teach you how to make coffee. You can't just be a waitress, right?" Yunho chuckled.
"Uhm... yeah, i think."
"Don't worry, it's pretty easy. We use instant coffee."
He turned, giving you his back, and took a few sticks containing the coffee mixture. Once he turned to look at you, he handed you one, smiling. Until that moment you didn't realize his hands, god his hands... slender, bony and veiny, his nails well taken care of. You shuddered when they made contact with yours, shivers running down your spine, fighting not to let yourself be carried away by your own thoughts, dirty thoughts.
"You have to pour the mixture in the cup." he gave you one, so you could copy his movements. You were quite slow in all you were doing, mind only focused on his long fingers, doing their job. You seemed... lost, or simply confused.
"y/n? you alright?" he asked, trying to figure out why you were so worked up from that easy tutorial. He then held the cup in front of your face, two fingers wrapped around the base of it. "You have to pour the boiled water slightly above two fingers, understand?"
"Wha- Oh, yes, yeah." you shook your head, trying to kick those pretty hands away from your mind.
"Then you keep stirring it until it looks good, easy right?"
"Yeah..."
Yunho grimaced, tilting his head to one side. He moved his hands on your shoulders, his fingers gripping at you. He then dragged them down your arms, slowly.
"You're so hot y/n." he whispered, his warm breath reaching your sensitive skin.
"W-what?" you felt your heartbeat accelerating from just that simple, innocent sentence. You looked at him, already panicking. He moved his right hand on your forehead, your mind was going to go on stend-by, from the feeling of him softly caressing it. You were surely developing the fattest crush you'd ever had, on him, your boss.
"You sure you're feeling good? i think you probably have a fever, your skin seems burning."
"Why does he have to be so handsome and adorable at the same time??" you said to yourself, unable to focus on his words, given his aphrodisiac beauty.
"Look at your cheeks, they're of a burning red." he caressed them, his thumb brushing the corner of your lips.
"It's because of you, dumbass." You moved your sight on his puppy eyes, probably unsuspecting the effects that his touch were giving to you.
"No, im okey." you murmured finally. Yunho moved his hands off of your body, and started to put away all of the stuff positioned on the counter.
"Uhm, anyways... the local is going to close soon, you can go for now if you want to."
You nodded, and made your way towards the door, almost forgetting it was made of glass... Well, not almost, because you bumped into it, making Yunho laugh.
The next days, and weeks, went similar: you simply did your new job. Went to work at late morning and got home at 7 p.m. You got used to that routine, you were well paid and had good company, perhaps the presence of your boss was what definitively convinced you to stay... hell ya, you were pretty sure he was the principal cause. Everyday he somehow found the way to touch you, making your insides fall apart in every single case: he'd move you away by grabbing your waist when he has to pass nearby, hold your hand when he'd accompany you to the back of the bar, or when you'd have your new nails done to get a closer sight, he also complimented your look every morning. In short: or he was the gentleman in person, or he was just clingy, or he also was infatuated by your simple existence. (No need to say that the last one was the one you hoped for so bad). At the end, you really became friends, after days of you joking and laughing together during work.
𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺
"y/n, i was wondering something." he broke the silence between you two, when he turned his head to face you, behind the counter where you were waiting for new costumers to come. You were quite nervous everytime you were alone with him: your foot kept beating on the floor.
"Uh-huh?" you murmured, focusing on the people sitting in front of you, both for not thinking of Yunho too much, and to make sure they were satisfied with your service.
"Today is Monday, right? So tomorrow we're open by the afternoon" his gaze glued to your pretty side profile.
"Yeah, i know" the feeling of his eyes sticking at you made your legs dizzy. "What's his purpose?" you thought.
"Wanna hang out later?"
"Oh no, he didn't-" you weren't mentally prepared to spend an entire evening with him, another touch from him and you were sure you'd fall on your knees for him, dick straight choking your throat. "Holy shit... and now?"
"Sure..." you couldn't deny, right? the worst thing that could have happened was that nothing would happen. In facts, you surely wanted him to just grab your hips and fuck you already. What? he couldn't just wear those skinny jeans and "accidentally" press his bulge against your ass, without expecting you to get horny. he was a freaking bastard in those moments, or he was dumb, or he liked the way you blushed and had your heart freaking out everytime he touched you, what a sadistic bastard. Yeah... you were definitely losing your mind, you craved for that man like a drugged craves for his drugs.
"Perfect! Give me your address, imma pick you up later, what about 8 p.m?" he took his phone, ready to take notes.
"shit, he's gonna enter my house"
"Uhm yeah, wait a second..."
A few hours later you were struggling to choose what to wear, still half naked from the shower you just took, hands grabbing dozens of dresses to look at them, trying to figure out which one to wear.
"if he told me at least where we're going..."
"should i wear just something cool?" "and if we go to a multi-star restaurant? i should be elegant..." "and if he takes me to his place?"
you suddenly heard the doorbell ringing, Yunho's voice speaking through the entryphone: "y/n? are you there?"
"duh... really??" you picked the first dress that caught your attention, wearing it while heading towards the principal door, you fixed your hair before opening it.
"Oh, here you are." he smiled at your presence.
"I need to do my make-up, it'll take a few minutes, come inside." you moved to one side, making him able to enter the house. He followed you till your bedroom, taking a look of the furniture, instead you entered the bathroom minding your own business. While you were putting on your mascara, you were staring at the reflection of Yunho through your mirror, and finally noticed how simply gorgeous Yunho looked: the smoking suit he was wearing fitted perfectly his slender body, the dark blue waist coat adhering to his chest. You lost yourself again inside your thoughts, your hands automatically moving and the figure of Yunho was only present in your mind. Once you got back to reality and exited your bathroom, you saw him sat on your bed, holding what seemed to be the buzzing toy you used to use during your desperate nights, and coincidentally, the night before was one of them. He was looking at it intensely, turning it around to see every detail. When he saw the small button he couldn't help but click it, making the vibrator starting to do what it was supposed to.
"Oh" a small whimper left his mouth as the toy he was holding started vibrating.
"No. nonono, fuck-" you ran towards him, intent on taking back what was yours.
"Give me that, Yunho." you took the vibration from his hands, holding it like it was your most intimate treasure.
"Uhm im sorry, i sat down and felt it under the blanket, didn't mean it." his innocent gaze turned quickly into a smirk, he leaned back on his elbows facing you while his body rested on the soft mattress of your bed, his legs open. "Didn't expect you to use that kind of stuff."
"I don't..." you tried to say, despite you perfectly knew that you sucked at lying.
"It's still wet." he chuckled, seeing your eyes widening, full of embarrassment, no wonder why your cheeks were of an intense red, and it surely wasn't because of your make-up. "Uhm-" you murmured, trying to think of a good lie this time.
"Don't lie to me, princess. You're a woman, it's normal to need some pleasure, right? Only thinking that looking at you, you'd easily get something way better than a vibrator."
You raised one eyebrow, asking again to yourself what were his wills: "What do you mean, huh?"
"Don't know, want me to prove it?" his smirk getting wider as he noticed you on the verge of your denial resistance.
"For now? No thanks im good with it."
"seriously? i had the chance to take him and i just wasted it? God, im so stupid." you wanted to slap your face right there, refusing yourself to believe what you just refused.
"Well, if you say so. Come on now, the restaurant is waiting for us."
He brought you to a famous italian restaurant, thank goodness that you were wearing an elegant dress, which as always Yunho complimented:
"You look so beautiful in that dress, the color matches your eyes perfectly." he said, when you both finished your dinner. The situation was quite embarrassing: you were constantly making eye contact, but not a single word leaving your mouth, expect a small murmur:
"Thank you, you're also very handsome..."
You didn't know if what happened at your house was only a joke, or his attempt to approach you, whatever it was, his previous proposal was now torturing your mind. After thinking of it a little too much you finally chose to just ignore it, and tried to enjoy some good time with Yunho.
"Oh God... he's drunk" you looked at his red face, chuckling while taking other sips of wine, his sight seemed fogged as he was trying hard to focus on your face when you talked:
"Yunho, you should stop drinking."
He laughed out loud, almost losing his balance, sat on his chair: "i can't! im so happy!"
"Why?" you asked, confused.
"Because i finally asked you to hang out with me!" he smiled, before standing up, already on the verge of falling, you stood up and immediately wrapped his arm around your waist, yours on his shoulder, helping him to walk straight. Your legs were shaking too, not because of the alcohol, but for the feeling of Yunho's finger gripping at your body, which drove you crazy. A smirk was continuously placed on his face, his head resting on the top of yours, as you were accompanying him to his car. You asked for its keys and sat in the driver's seat. You didn't know his address and because he was drunk he couldn't remember it, so you drove to your house. You were in your bathroom brushing your teeth and getting ready to go to sleep, once you got out, you found him already sleeping on you bed. You headed towards him, and knelt down to look at his tired face.
"He looks so cute... wait- and now? where do i sleep??"
You looked around, despite you hadn't another bed at your place, and there was no way you'd sleep on the floor, excluding your mini couch. You had no choice but to lay on your bed, staring at Yunho till collapsing from your tiredness.
The morning after, you woke up at the sunrise, when you turned your head to look for Yunho, you're heart almost stopped at the sight of his face a few inches from yours. His soft cheeks resting on the pillow made him look adorable. That moment felt perfect, until you moved your gaze down his body, and noticed his crotch pressing against the fabric of his pants, as if it wanted to escape from them, you widened your eyes, amazed:
"Jeez- he's pretty big..." you murmured, and suddenly frozen hearing Yunho yawning, having just woke up.
"what did you say, y/n? Wait... why am i laying on your bed?! W-what happened yesterday??" he immediately stood up, panick rushing inside his body.
"Nothing, you were drunk so i took you to my place."
He looked down at the feeling of his pants tightening, and gasped, knowing that you probably noticed it too, he moved his gaze at you nervously, then chuckled shyly:
"Uhm well... i should go now and take care of... the bar" he squeezed his eyes and sighed: "Yeah, the bar..."
𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼
The next weeks went as usual, just working and drooling secretly for your boss, handsome and kind as always. You were now sure that you loved him, what you kept asking to yourself was if he felt the same for you. And how could you prove that? Teasing him. Usually he was the one that "involuntarily" teased you in many ways. So you finally decided to test the waters, pretending to act normal as you were voluntarily driving him crazy. You actually acted like an annoying slut in his presence, rubbing yourself against him in every occasion, walking sensually, sure that his gaze was glued to your ass, sometimes you even vaguely flirted with cute costumers just to get him jealous. After only a week, you could tell that he was extremely on the verge of losing his patience.
It was late October, outside was raining hard and the bar was completely empty of people, just you and Yunho. He was looking intensely at you, while you were decorating a cupcake for fun, sometimes licking the cream off of your fingers joyfully. He sighed, arm crossed:
"Why you keep acting like this, huh?" he headed towards you, till he was just a few inches far from you.
"Like what?" you smirked at him.
"Like a slut, are you joking or just needy for cock? Tell me."
"Maybe both, don't know. Maybe i just need to get what im craving, don't you think?" Where did you even find that confidence all of a sudden? Was your whore side finally taking the control?
He got closer to you, the feeling of his heavy breath on your lips: "Uh-huh? And what do you crave so bad?"
you giggled, your heartbeat starting to accelerate: "Guess."
He sighed again, but this time a small smirk taking his way on his lips: "Come on doll, just stop joking around, i perfectly know you want me." he got closer, whispering at your right ear: "Just wondering why you didn't fuck me that night." You bit your lower lip, how many times you asked yourself the same question? "i don't even know, maybe you can ask me again to."
Yunho laughed, nodding. He took you in his arms, and make you sit on the counter, his hands on your sides to make you stay still. You could hear his heart pulsing quickly, yours was about to flutter, and the both of you inhaling deeply the air. He whispered again, his voice lower than ever:
"Wanna fuck, my beautiful?"
You chuckled: "who told you that im yours"
"Gonna mark you right now."
You whispered back: "Go on, then." Before he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him, kissing you passionately. Your tongues found their ways inside your mouths, his hands moving on every inch of your body, you could feel your skin burning under his touch. Thrill rushing in your blood as he sucked on your neck, leaving hickeys all over your sensitive skin, he was about to hike your t-shirt up when you stopped him:
"Yunho... the bar is open."
He rolled his eyes back and sighed: "Okey then, i'll bring you to my house, now." He took your hands, helping you to get down of the counter. He turned off the lights and the power of the place, you ran to his car while he was closing the bar. When you arrived, Yunho was already taking you in his arms, heading towards his bedroom. You giggled when he pinned you against the wall, him holding your wrist while you were stuck in a long, wet kiss. Small whimpers leaving your mouth, happy because you finally were trapped in his arms, horny because you were imagining what was coming next:
"Come on boss, teach me how to behave."
He groaned, looking intensely at your smirking face: "Oh fuck, i love when you call me that way" he sucked your earlobe, then murmured: "it gets me so hard, you can't even imagine." He gripped your waist, and throwed you onto the bed, leaving small kisses down your body, while he was dragging your clothes off of you, until you were completely naked. Shivers were running down your spine at the sudden cold feeling. He stood up, taking a complete look of your breathtaking body, his boner exposing his needs.
"God, you're soaking wet, all because of me." he chuckled, his chest expanding continuously as he was breathing heavily, while unbuttoning his shirt. Once he had only his boxers on, you were desperately begging him to go ahead: "please please please take them off..."
Yunho opened your legs, making room for himself. He pressed his bulge on your bare cunt, forcing you to whine annoyingly.
"You like when i tease you, don't you?"
"God im begging you please i need you inside me"
"Oh i see, should i give you what you want since you're acting so good for me?" he dragged down his underwear, his cock popping out, standing proudly: "Hmm?"
You kept nodding: "Yesyesyesyes-"
One hand held your thigh firmly as the other stroked his length a few times, preparing at the incoming pleasure he was about to feel. You arched your back when he finally pushed himself inside you, unbelievably hitting your g-spot with the first thrust:
"Fuck! Shit Yunho- s-so perfect..."
His hands were caressing your belly softly, unlike the way he was pumping in you roughly. He was too excited to finally have you, he couldn't contain himself and be gentle. No, he wanted to ruin your pretty hole so you would stop to seduce him and getting him hard during work.
"Now that you're so whiny, do you still wanna tease me?" he stopped, knowing that it would drive you crazy. He felt your walls clenching intensely, signaling him that you were "so close so close- please keep it in!"
"You're already reaching your orgasm, doll?" his cockhead rubbing against your clit, enough for you to roll your eyes back and suddenly creaming your folds. You moaned loudly, you're voice broken after only a few minutes. He leaned on you, his hands caressing your collarbones, feeling your chest widening under his palm.
"Too bad, because i haven't yet."
Yunho wrapped his fingers around your neck, squeezing it enough for you to breathe but not to groan. You looked at him with desperate eyes, feeling your soul almost leaving your body because of the overwhelming pleasure.
"i'll be forced to give you some days off, you're not going to walk for a week"
You wrapped both of your hands around his wrist, helping yourself to stay still while he was pressing you against the mattress. Every single thrust felt like heaven, there was no way he could be a virgin, he knew every spot where you needed to be touched. Yunho was also pretty loud during sex, your pussy fitted him perfectly, so much that he became addicted to it within the first minute. A mix of low and high moans were leaving his mouth constantly, he threw his head back once he felt his climax getting closer.
"Fuck you're so perfect for me, can't wait you to be mine."
Yunho took his hand off of your neck, and held your legs while he was pumping in you lastly. He bit his tongue forcefully, you were surely the best fuck he'd ever had. He didn't want to stop, despite the pleasure becoming too intense to be handled. Tears were falling across your face, feeling your pussy getting worshipped by his dick, too fucked out to even answer him:
"Want me to fill you with my seed, princess?"
You nodded slightly, biting your lower lip and rubbing away your ruined mascara from your eyes.
He pulled out and in, one time, rougher than ever.
"I want you to use your words when i speak."
You whined in reply: "Shit- yes boss, im begging you."
A few more thrust and he felt his orgasm hitting his body, releasing a big load, ropes of hot cum taking their way inside you, mixed with your own arousal. You both groaned at the addictive feeling. His cock was swirling once he finally slid out of you. Yunho headed towards the bathroom and brought you a towel, he caressed you inner thighs while cleaning you from the mess he made. He kissed your body repeatedly, getting closer to your face. He stopped at the sight of your surprised expression:
"Aftercare?" you asked.
"What? I might be a rough dom but im still a gentleman."
Yunho joined you on the bed, and wrapped his arms around your body in a warm hug. He moved your hair from your face leaving a small kiss on your forehead.
"Gotta make sure you'll never leave me."
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phoen1xr0se · 7 months
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I am a writer.
I started writing for the first time in over 18 years on the 2nd September this year. Only 25 days later, I have written 17 chapters, 58,503 words, my story read by 4,141 people, and have readers begging for more.
Now let me come to my point - what I am writing is fanfiction. And immediately this seems to discredit the effort, the hard work, the quality, the content - definitely not seen as proper writing. I'm not a proper writer. Because if it can't be turned into something I can make money from, if the ideas and characters aren't all my own, none of it is valid. I've been asked why I'm wasting my time on it when I could be writing something real (what they mean is something I can profit from).
The reason I picked up the figurative pen and began writing again is because I was so inspired by a pair of characters that I wanted to delve into them and learn them, elaborate on them, build a world around them. Writing about them brings me deep joy, finding beautiful words and painting a picture with them that makes not only me but my readers weep is a kind of magic I thought I had lost long ago, back when I still believed in love and people basically being good and all that shit. To know I still have that power, that I am making other people FEEL just through what I have to say, has brought me back from a very, very dark place.
Maybe I'll write my own stuff some day. Maybe I won't. But what I do know is that I will never do anything that's THIS difficult and all-consuming if it doesn't give me joy, or bring joy to others. I do it because I can't not do it. Because the story is screaming to be told, and I do my best to find the words to tell it.
A month ago I wondered what would happen if I turned the wheel of my car and flew off a bridge.
Today, I sat in St James' Park and wrote part of a beautiful chapter about a demon who has been rejected, abandoned and feels he is unworthy of love, who pushes people away, who cringes away from everything good because he knows he will ruin it like he ruins everything, who refuses to accept kindness because he feels he doesn't deserve it. As I wrote, I healed us both.
And it was a good day.
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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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pynkgothicka · 2 months
Note
Hey!
I love ur blog and ur writing they
Soo good can I request a yandere husband taehyung x reader where it's the typical wife worship husband kind lf thing also can u pls make him really dark too with a non-con
Sorry if it's too much
Love ya
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Million Dollar Man KTH
Pairing - Dark! Husband! Kim Taehyung x AFAB! Reader
Featuring - None!
Word Count - Around 1.8k
Tags and Warnings - Domestic Violence, Non-Con, Breeding Kink, Mentions of blood, forest sex scene, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Allusions to kidnapping
Authors Note - Late Valetines Day story! This is my last req!! Sooo some more personal inspiered stuff coming soon! Also please let me know if you guys like the longer more descriptive fics.
A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!
He was your world, your everything.
Or at least that’s what he told you.
Soon, you found yourself having to repeat these thoughts, constantly reminding yourself of them, almost blinding yourself to the harsh reality of just how miserable you had become.
You cut potatoes, sprinkling herbal seasoning on top. You put them in a pan and cover them with virgin olive oil. Placing the pan in the oven, you set a timer.
The beep reminded you of the constant threats and warnings he provided. He required dinner to be prepared by the time he returned home from work every day. Especially today, Valentine's Day. The day you are supposed to be the most appreciative of what Kim Taehyung has given you.
During your cleanup, you suddenly felt a pair of hands encircle your waist, and a broad nose press against your neck. You instinctively leaned into the touch, fully aware of who it was. "Hello, my love," he murmured, his warm breath gently caressing your neck.
"Hello, how was your day at work?" You inquire, speaking softly with a touch of sweetness. He grunted, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter. "Did you have a tough day?”
Taehyung uttered dismissively, "They were just bothering me, honestly. All I wanted was to be back home with you." He says, planting a kiss on your neck once more. You could feel his cock harden against the curve of your back. You shivered noticeably. His black hair brushed against your neck. "Are you cold baby?”
You glance downwards and shake your head. "No... Your hair just tickled me a little bit.”
Taehyung nodded to himself as he responded, "I brought you some beautiful roses and your favorite chocolates." He lamented slightly, his hips pressing against your back. You stayed quiet. "What do you say?”
“Thank you… I-I’m making dinner… I’m sorry I couldn't get you anything more.” You apologized. But you both knew the reason why.
You had no access to your funds.
No access to a vehicle to leave.
No knowledge of where you lived.
Not even the luxury of owning a phone or the login to any of the house's computers.
Yet Taehyung cooed. “It's okay, I know you love me. I don't need all that stuff.”
Shit. Not even light gaslighting could make him feel sorry and give you more privileges. You nod in agreement as he speaks. “I’m going to get cleaned up for dinner. Don’t wait on cleaning, you know I hate having a dirty kitchen.” Taehyung walks away, gesturing towards the mess on the kitchen counter.
“It’ll get cleaned. I promise.”
💲
After dinner, you prepared to go to bed. You'd expected Taehyung to be asleep by now, but he was up. Book in hand he lay in bed, his nightwear glasses making him look as sophisticated as ever. You gulped, walking towards the bed and crawling in. Crawling into bed next to him, you asked, “Aren't you sleepy yet?”
“No, I can't calm my mind," he stated abruptly. You could tell he was upset at something. It was something you had to pick up on, being with him. He was too emotional, his mood swings frightening you at times. “Where is my laptop?”
Of course that's what it was.
Desperation drove you to try and access Taehyung's laptop. He had left it unattended and you saw it as a chance to try and discover your location. The day you married Taehyung, he had swept you off your feet and whisked you away to an unknown place, leaving you with no knowledge of where you were or how to escape.
The house was nestled in a dense forest, surrounded by trees as far as the eye could see. Sometimes, you would gaze out the window, searching for signs of life in the distance. But all you ever saw was the endless expanse of darkness, an eerie stillness that only made you fear Taehyung more.
The computer taunts you with every failed login attempt, each one feeling like a slap in the face. Frustration and desperation build as you frantically try every password you can think of until finally, with a loud beep, the screen displays "Access Denied." Fury bubbles up inside of you as you realize you've been locked out. Trembling with anger, you snatch the computer and hide it away, unable to face another rejection from this merciless machine.
The silence between you two is deafening.
He flips a page in the book he was reading, seemingly calm but you know better. You can feel his eyes boring into you
"Why are you so quiet?" he questioned, flipping a page in his book. "I know you did something - you turned off the cameras. I received a notification on my phone.”
Quietly, you mustered up the courage to reply. “I-I wanted to…”
"What did you want? To abandon me? On Valentine's Day? After everything I've done for you? After everything I've sacrificed for you?" Taehyung bombarded you with questions, and you couldn't make sense of them. He slammed his book shut and got right in your face. His hands aggressively pulled at the bottom of your nightgown, as if trying to search you for something. You let out a gasp and fought back by kicking at him.
Then you got him. Your foot connecting with his face.
Taehyung jerked back, sitting up abruptly. A metallic taste floods his mouth as he runs his tongue over his now split and bleeding upper lip. “Won't you look at that…”
“T-Tae… I-I’m sorry. Please, I didn't mean it. I-I can pa-” But before you could finish, his hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off your words and squeezing tightly. The impact of your head hitting the wooden headboard sends a jolt of pain through your skull, but it's nothing compared to the fear that grips you as one of his hands grips your throat, his face twisted in a violent rage. Taehyung's grip tightened as he knelt over you, both hands now grasping at your neck.
“What was that for huh? I thought I broke you in… but obviously I didn't do a good enough job huh?” With each point he wanted to get across, he lifted your head and slammed it into the bed. You tried to fight him off, desperately scratching at his arm with your anxiously bitten nails. With each brutal blow, your vision became spotty and distorted until you spotted the vase of roses nearby. The ones he had just brought for you. Without hesitation, you grabbed it and brought it down upon his skull, shattering the delicate glass and sending shards and water flying.
You had only a few seconds to get away.
Your feet thudded against the soft carpet as you sprinted out of the bedroom. Gasping for air, you knew there was no time to stop and catch your breath. Every second counted as you tried to make up for what had been lost.
Racing to the living room, you shoved your feet into house slippers and tore out of the door, darting into the dense woods that surrounded the home. Branches whipped and sliced at you, as you climbed over fallen debris. The idea of stopping flashed through your mind, but you knew you had to follow through.
Trying to see through the minimal amount of light was nearly impossible. The darkness consumed the woods, with only the moon's glow and the trees creating harsh shapes on the forest floor. "Baby! Where did you go? I'm sorry!”
His voice. It was too close, sending a chill down your spine. You quickly ducked behind a towering tree, heart pounding in your chest as you tried to steady your ragged breaths. One hand clamped over your mouth to stifle any noise, the other clenched into a tight fist. "Fuck," Taehyung's voice taunts, followed by the sound of his footsteps approaching. "You got me good, but don't worry. But I can be better okay? We can drop this entire thing and go back to bed…” Taehyung's voice was next to you.
But you aren't falling for that. He wanted you to feel bad. Taehyung's predatory steps echo behind you, coming closer and closer until a vice-like grip seizes your hair, yanking you down to the ground. “I thought we talked about this? This running away shit,” he spat.
"Tae, please, let's just go home... I'm sorry! I promise I won't run again, just please-" Your pleas fall on deaf ears as Taehyung circles around you, his imposing figure casting a looming shadow, pinning you to the dirt and making you feel utterly helpless, the dirt making you feel grimy. You could hear him pull down his pajama pants and you began to cry out. As you struggle to break free, Taehyung's grip tightens and he slams your shoulder back into the ground with a sickening thud. Tears stream down your face as you realize there is no escape from this nightmare.
His hand went to his mouth as he sucked on his middle and index finger. With his other hand, he roughly yanked up your gown until it tore at the seams. You screamed and cried, squeezing your eyes shut in desperate prayer, hoping against hope that this was all just a twisted nightmare inflicted by cruel and malevolent gods.
A shrill cry escapes your lips as your husband rips off your panties and plunges his fingers inside you. They skillfully find your sweet spot, causing you to moan in pleasure. “Already creaming around my fingers, fuck, that's so sexy,” he growls, a mix of desire and dominance in his voice. His head lowers to kiss you messily, leaving a trail of spit on your frightened face. His tongue invades your mouth, despite your attempts to protest.
With the sudden absence of his fingers came the sudden intrusion of his length.
The force of Taehyung's thrusts feels like a battering ram, relentlessly pummeling into you until your body is split in two. Your gasps turn into desperate cries of shock and agony as he continues to ravage you, his lips locked onto yours in a twisted display of affection.
It all left you gasping for air.
Your screams of agony were muffled by Taehyung's unrelenting kisses as he pounded into you mercilessly. You claw and beg for him to stop, tears mingling with the dirt beneath you as he continues to take what he wants from your menatlly broken body.
He persisted, driven by his ultimate goal to finish inside you. His desire was to take control of you, impregnate you with his child.
As you rolled your eyes back in pure ecstasy, Taehyung's cock became coated in slick, sticky cum. The sight only heightened his own arousal and soon he was filling you to the brim with his hot release. Taehyung had a dazed yet blissful look on his face as he gazed at you.
“Don’t turn off those cameras again.”
Let me know through a dm or ask to be included in my official Taglist- @darkuni63 @captainengineer-trixie @chimmisbae @iloverubberduckiez-blog @mageprincess7 @looneybleus @whipwhoops @mayvalentine33
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rubyreduji · 11 months
Text
reading and doing — ljh
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summary: jihoon catches you reading fanfic about him
tags: smut (minors dni!), gn!reader, idol!jihoon, pre-established relationship, lowkey crack warnings: badly written dirty talk, small dick jihoon <3, explicit unprotected sex, dom(ish) jihoon, choking, restraint for a sec, spit used as lube, fingering, rough sex, fingers in mouth, creampie wc: 2.3k an: a meta ass fanfic. i tried to keep it gn so pls don’t mention the use of certain words okay bye
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Woozi thrusts his thick, large juicy cock into your soaking wet pussy and you squeal in delight.
A giggle escapes from your throat as you read the sentence. You will never not be amused by how people like to describe Jihoon’s dick in their writing.
“What’s so funny over there?” Jihoon asks as he turns his desk chair to look at you where you sit on his studio couch. 
“Oh nothing,” you tell him, a small grin still plastered on your face. 
Jihoon knows better than that and stands up and walks over to you. Before you can react Jihoon plucks your phone out of your hand and looks at what you were reading. A look of confusion mixed with disgust appears on his face.
“What is this?”
You snatch your phone back from him. “Fanfiction. About you specifically.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Carats write stories about you, usually about you and them being a couple. The stuff I read is mostly sex stories, but some of the slice of life stuff is cute too,” you explain with a shrug.
“Sex stories?!” Jihoon now looks more worried than anything else.
“Yeah, they’re kinda funny. Everyone thinks you have a big dick.” You know your boyfriend isn’t insecure about his size, whether it’s his height or…other parts of him, but you still like to playfully tease him every once in a while.
“I don’t know why the Carats would want to write something like that.”
“It lets them be delusional about being with you, let them have it Jihoonie.”
“It sounds like something Mingyu would like. You know how he is about fan interactions.”
“Oh there’s a lot for Mingyu!” You tell Jihoon. “I don’t read them though of course, I only read yours.”
“That I also don’t get. Why even read them when you have the real thing.”
“Because it’s fun! I like to see how people characterize you. The one I’m reading is just for shits and giggles, but some of them are actually good. Here.” You scroll on your phone until you find your folder of saved fics and pull up one of your favorites.
Jihoon takes your phone from you and reads a couple of lines before scrunching up his face and shaking his head. “I still don’t get it. You can’t actually find stuff like this hot.”
“I don’t know, it kind of is. I know you better than anyone else so I can just put you in those situations. It’s fun. I read them when you’re away on tour.”
This gets another dramatic look out of Jihoon. “You do not.”
“I miss you okay! And you’re always busy so I just go to the next best thing. If it makes you feel better sometimes I’ll also put on Ruby when I’m masturbating and just listen to that to get off.”
“Okay and now this conversation has taken a whole new turn.”
You giggle. “C’mon Hoonie, just read this with me. It’ll be fun! Maybe you’ll even find you like them.”
“I’m not sure how I’ll find enjoyment in reading what someone else has written about me.”
“You need to take a break anyways, please!” You give him your best puppy dog eyes and Jihoon glares at you but sits down on the couch.
“I don’t even know why I’m doing this,” he grumbles.
“Because you love me. And you’re secretly curious.”
Jihoon moves so your body is between his legs, your back leaning against his front. His head rests on your shoulder as you hold the phone up to read the fic. 
“This is technically a few chapters into a series but I really enjoy the smut so if the plot doesn’t make sense, don’t mind it.”
“Y/N this ridiculous-”
“Shhh, just read.” 
Jihoon listens to you and you can tell he is actually reading the fic from the small grunts he lets out in reaction to the story. There’s a bit of plot at the start before it gets into the smut and Jihoon stops you at a moment when you can scroll to it.
“Do people really like this? They want to see me in these situations?”
“Oh come on Jihoon you know what the fans think of you. You can’t be totally oblivious. You read your comments and I know you have a burner Twitter.”
Jihoon doesn’t have a rebuttal for that and you smile knowing you’re right. 
“Y/N I really do have work I need to-”
“Wait no, this is the good part.” You lean all of your body weight on Jihoon so he can’t get up, even though you know realistically he’s strong enough to displace you if he really wanted to. Jihoon just huffs and allows you to keep him hostage.
You try not to giggle as you read the smut, especially because you can tell Jihoon is invested. The smut in the fanfic that you picked isn’t anywhere near how Jihoon actually acts in bed and you wish you could see his face to see if he’s either intrigued or disgusted.
“Do people actually think I’m this mean?” Jihoon finally says and you laugh.
“Some people. You can be kinda mean sometimes. I think on camera you come off as standoffish,” you say. “But a lot of people think you’re sweet too. Also people are just kinky like that and enjoy this stuff.”
“Do you? You know I’m nothing like this.”
“I think you’re perfect the way you are. Don’t think me reading this stuff is me actually wanting you to be like this, I just think it’s fun to picture you in different scenarios. I mean, if people wrote smut about me would you want to read it?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it, because that’s weird to think about,” Jihoon grunts.
“Getting defensive there Hoonie?”
“Just shut up and go back to reading,” Jihoon grumbles.
“Oh you want to go back to reading? So you like it?”
“I just want you to shut up.” 
You do shut up, but only because you want Jihoon to continue reading.
The fic is getting to your favorite part when things start to get really intense. You have to give props to the writer for really going in. You know that you would never be able to find such…colorful language to use to describe the things you and Jihoon get up to.
You can feel Jihoon shift behind you. A small smirk spreads on your face when you feel the smallest bit of bulge press into your lower back. Jihoon likes this. 
“You okay back there Jihoonie?” You wiggle your hips a bit and Jihoon lets out a huff that you’re pretty sure is hiding a moan. “Enjoying this?”
“No.” His voice sounds tense and he answered a little too quickly to not be suspicious.
“It’s okay if you do Ji. It’s a bit of an ego boost isn’t it? Knowing all these people find you’re hot. I know this fic is particularly well liked, it has nearly three thousand interactions on it, and then all of the people who have read it without interacting. Do you like that? Three thousand people want to fuck you Hoonie.”
“I-I don’t-”
“Even if you don’t find that hot, isn’t the actual story kind of sexy? Just imagine it’s you and me in this scenario. Don’t you wanna be tangled up together as you fuck my brains out?”
“Y/N,” Jihoon whines. “Stop.”
“Stop? Stop what? Teasing you? No, I think you like it, just like how you liked the fanfic. Doesn’t it sound fun? Don’t you wanna do mean things to me while telling me how pretty I am?”
“Th-”
“Admit it baby, you like thinking about putting your big, fat cock into me.” You know you’re taking a gamble with your choice of words but it seems to work because Jihoon finally breaks.
You feel Jihoon’s hand come up around your neck and slam your body back into his. “Maybe I do.” His mouth is right next to your ear and you have to admit you do let out a shudder. “You want me to do mean things to you?”
“I think you want to do mean things to me.”
“Maybe I do, what then?”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
That’s all Jihoon needs to flip you both over, position himself over you. You definitely were not expecting to awaken a new kink in Jihoon when you told him to read the fic with you, but you’re definitely not complaining.
Jihoon keeps his loose grip around the base of your neck as he leans down to lock his lips with yours. The kiss is harsh and hurried and it doesn’t take long for Jihoon to stick his tongue in your mouth. He licks at your mouth and you arch your body into his.
His body rests between your legs and you can feel him grind down against you, his dick already fully hard. Jihoon’s mouth pops off of yours with a loud smacking sound. His hand moves off of your neck and trails down your body before it makes it to the hem of your shirt. He pushes his hand up under it, his fingertips making contact with the warm skin of your stomach.
He rubs his palm over your waist before moving higher to grope at your chest. His finger flicks over your nipple and you moan. Jihoon chuckles at this.
“Clothes off,” he growls as he pulls away from you. You quickly comply, stripping down to nothing as Jihoon does this same.
His cock is already slick with pre-cum at the tip and you have the urge to get on your knees and suck him off. Jihoon doesn’t allow this though, as he pushes you back onto the couch. You’re definitely worked up yourself by now and Jihoon can tell.
“Needy little thing, aren’t you?”
“You’re one to talk,” you bit back. 
“Ah, but I’m the one in control here.” Jihoon grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. “Aren’t I?”
“Hoon-ah, please,” you beg.
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me.”
Jihoon grins. “Glady.”
Jihoon lets go of your hands and brings his fingers up to his lips. You watch as he spits on the digits before moving them down to play with your entrance. You buck your hips into his hand and Jihoon uses his other hand to push them back down.
After what feels like an eternity of teasing Jihoon finally pushes one finger into you and you let out a mewl. Jihoon pumps it in and out of you until you start to loosen up and then he shoves another one into you. He continues to do this over again until you’re finally adequately opened up.
“Ready for me?”
You nod and Jihoon lines his cock up to you and pushes in. It’s a comfortable, familiar feeling as Jihoon starts to rock his hips into you. Jihoon is buried balls deep into you when he grabs your leg and hikes up over his shoulder.
Whereas Jihoon is usually soft and slow with you, he’s now fast and hard as he slams his cock into you deeper and deeper. Jihoon has always been an adequate lover, but now you get what people mean by it’s not the size but how it’s used.
Jihoon locks one of his hands around your thigh, digging his fingertips into the fat there. You’re sure you’re going to bruise later, but you don’t care right now. His other hand reaches down and cups your jaw. His thumb swipe over your lower lip before pressing down.
“You right, you do look pretty like this,” Jihoon smirks down at you. This thumb presses harder into your bottom lip until Jihoon finally pushes it all the way into your mouth, pushing down on your tongue. “Next time I’m going to tie you up and make you choke on my cock.”
You whine around Jihoon’s thumb at the image. It’s a good thing Jihoon is blocking you from saying anything because you’re sure if you tried it would just be utter nonsense.
With the way Jihoon is cramming up your g-spot you know you’re not going to last much longer. Luckily it seems like Jihoon is close as well from the concentration displayed on his face.
“Fuck, gonna cum inside, yeah?” You just nod the best you can.
You’re expecting Jihoon to cum first, but your climax creeps up on you and suddenly your legs are shaking as your back arches up off the couch. Your eyes roll back into your head as you let out a wanton moan.
Seeing you fucked out thorougly makes Jihoon spill over the edge finally, his warm cum spilling into you. He stays in you for a moment to catch his breath. He leans down to press kisses to your bare shoulder, nipping at the skin as he does.
Once you two finally have recovered, Jihoon slowly pulls out of his. You can feel his cum slide out of you as he does and it makes you whimper a bit.
“You were so good for me,” Jihoon coos.
“So you liked it?” You grin at him.
He defeatedly nods. “Yeah, yeah I did.”
“Yay! See Hoonie, look at all the doors this has opened. Maybe we should read more fanfiction together.”
“No, nope. We discovered this one thing, no more.” With that Jihoon gets up to go get you some water and a rag to clean up with.
Despite his final protests, you still feel victorious as you grab your phone and scroll down to the comments of the fic you two were reading.
You’re not going to understand this, but thank you SO MUCH for writing this fic, you’re the best &lt;3
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thatlgbtqfandom · 9 months
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I've watched a few interviews with the cast and crew of Good Omens and can I just say that, as someone who was a BBC's Sherlock fan back when it was still airing, it makes me so incredibly happy to finally have a show that not only doesn't queerbait (yes, the bar is in hell), but where the actors seem genuinely happy with and open about the queer direction the show is going in, and where they don't shame the fans for also being happy about this development. I just watched an interview with Michael Sheen where he, almost unprompted, brought up fanfiction and said that he thinks that it's a shame that people used to be weird about fanfiction because he thinks it's amazing and shows a love for the show. And... as someone who kind of still gets upset whenever I'm reminded of certain interviews and panels with the cast and crew of Sherlock (if you were in the fandom I'm sure you know which ones I'm talking about), this unabashed celebration of queer joy from the cast and crew of a big show like this is just something I could never have imagined as a young, queer fan!
I get that there are different circumstances, Sherlock fans could definitely be a lot sometimes, and maybe it's cruel of me to compare shows like this. But I genuinely believe that Sherlock did some actual damage to my (and many others') trust in media and in creators. It's one of the main reasons I absolutely didn't believe Our Flag Means Death would do what it did even when I was seeing it play out before my very eyes. It's why I didn't believe Crowley and Aziraphale would ever even come close to actually expressing their feelings for one another despite all of the queer subtext in season 1 and despite the cast and crew calling it a love story. Maybe all of this even added to my suspicions that they weren't going to follow through because we've all been let down time and time again.
And I'm not trying to pin the fault of queerbaiting solely on Sherlock and the team behind it - I am aware that there were many other big shows and movies that also queerbaited at the time. But out of all of those shows, I mainly watched Sherlock and it, along with the interviews with the cast and crew, were my main points of reference for what to expect regarding queer representation in (especially mainstream) media at the time. Which is why I'm mainly using Sherlock as an example of this unfortunate trend.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that with all of these shows now subverting our very, very low expectations for what kind of space queer characters and queer stories are allowed to occupy in (especially mainstream) media, I feel like my teenage self is starting to heal just a bit. But, both back then and in hindsight, I'm also completely baffled that a few shows in the late 2000s and early 2010s were able to get away with the shit they were pulling and completely ruin young, queer fans' trust in both creators and in their own media literacy.
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scatteredskittless · 2 months
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hello! your blog is so adorable sjgsf could i get hcs for alastor with a temperamental s/o? maybe when they get angry they flare up like charlie? thank you in advancee!! <33
Alastor x Temperamental! Reader
A/n: hehe thank youuu and of course !! writing for Alastor is always fun ♥️
Warnings: Not really any, just Alastor being a little shit lol
Fluff✔️ Comfort✔️ Angst❌ Smut❌
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📻𖤐 I find this dynamic amusing because Alastor canonically finds making people angry or “temper tantrums” like.. the peak of comedy? 💀💀
📻𖤐 Okay that’s over exaggerating it a bit but still, it is true. he also isn’t fond of those who frown a lot. Here’s the source for this little fun fact :3
📻𖤐 In your case though I feel like he’d find it cute. Hilarious and kind of pathetic as well? Sure, but you managed to get the Radio Demon himself into a relationship. There’s already been made a special exception just for you so I’m sure there’d be many more.
📻𖤐 Would still 100% egg you on or poke fun at you to get you more worked up just to laugh at you for it though
📻𖤐 Him coming up behind you and wrapping you up in a tight hug only to exclaim: “Smile, my dear !!” Or something along those lines as you’re literally seething 😭
📻𖤐 Wether it be to piss you off some more or not is still undetermined lol
📻𖤐 Being temperamental isn’t just about being quick to anger though, it means to be quick to… well, any emotion really.
📻𖤐 He isn’t the best with dealing with peoples emotions in what’s considered a normal way… but I’m sure that much is expected from smiley over here (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
📻𖤐 Like actually trying to help you calm down and such might be a struggle at first for him but he’s a quick learner.
📻𖤐 Listens fairly well when others are venting or talking about their problems though so there’s also that
📻𖤐 Good at giving out advice if you genuinely ask him for it, he’s got a lot of wisdom !!
📻𖤐 Lends you a shoulder to cry on if you really needed it… and I mean that in a very literal sense. Would let you cry against his shoulder as he patted your back and waited for you to stop your tears, you squeezing him in a tight embrace that he didn’t exactly return.
📻𖤐 As much as he finds it amusing to see your pouty face or how worked up you get to the point of flaring up and going all “demon mode” and what not…
📻𖤐 Your smile is still his favourite thing to see :)
📻𖤐 At the end of the day he does want to see you happy. He loves you in his own twisted little way after all ♡
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Please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my fanfictions/writing/headcanons without permission ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞
ᯓ★ Scatteredskittles
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leatherbookmark · 9 months
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dear google duckduckgo how to love and feel loved because i'm at my wits' end at this point
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luckyarchivist · 2 months
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Touchstarved LIs and Fanfiction AUs They Should Be In
Haven't been able to stop thinking about the people who said Ais is "always the tattoo artist in tattoo shop/flower shop AU". I don't even like tattoo shop/flower shop like that but it was such a correct thing to say and I have to acknowledge that. So here's that plus AUs I've seen that I think the LIs should be in.
Ais
Flower shop/tattoo shop, as mentioned. This one is TOO good. Come ON. Ais as the hot-ass owner of the local tattoo shop? Him listening to your idea for a tattoo and then smoothly and easily inking it into your skin and telling you you're good when you don't cry? I don't even need to explain this one. It makes sense in like every way.
NASCAR/Formula One AU. The idea of him getting out of that car sweaty as hell in the full racing suit after crushing a track record? Like, taking off the helmet and shaking his hair out and looking like he couldn't give less of a shit about winning first place? Yeah. I am not immune to vroom vroom
Mermaid AU but he's a bull shark or an octopus, not a fish. IDK if I want his claspers or his tentacles more, but either way he should be lurking in the briny deep and protecting me from the real ocean monsters and threatening to eat me even though he probably doesn't mean it, probably.
Vere
Magic/Witches AU. - C'monnnn, he's already so witchy! He's got the sleeves and everything. And yes I know TS already has magic in it, but you know what I mean. He, like, lives in the spooky forest and the people of the village are deathly afraid of him, but you need his magical help, so against the wishes of family and friends you seek him out. And he forces you through a series of dangerous illusions as a trial and, when you successfully pass them, finally agrees to help you for a price...
Royalty AU as either the capricious king of a powerful nation or that king's advisor, formal or informal (smart concubine). I've never seen Game of Thrones but that kind of castle politics, shadowy backstabbing shit seems right up his alley.
Modern AU as an artist: I already talked about this with Vere as an artist and game dev, but I think it'd be so funny if Vere was just sitting in a coffee shop (local, Starbucks is below him) trying to finish his commissions in peace because his roommate(s) are annoying and/or distracting. Honestly, Vere would also rock as a modern AU witch, like urban fantasy type.
Leander
Barista/Bartender AU. He's so extroverted and congenial I have to put him in a drink service AU. He definitely has a "time to mix drinks and save lives" type of work ethic behind the counter. He remembers regular customers and their drink orders, he is LIBERAL with discounts, and he leaves little notes to the people he thinks are cute.
Serial killer AU. I am so basic and even though I have no desire to watch or listen to true crime now, I was raised on the Investigation Discovery Channel and I've never lost that. Look at his fucking face. He's asking for it to be covered in blood. Even better if this is combined with the above AU and he's a sweet server by day and a ruthless murderer by night but he keeps the same wide, pleasant, and genuine smile on because both things are things he loves to do. Even BETTER if he has an obsession with one of his regulars and starts killing people around them in an attempt to get closer with them.
Theatre AU. Siiiighs. Yeah, I'm a theatre kid. And I just know this guy would be one of those actors who wants to be a mentor/older brother figure for any new troupe-members. He's walking you through all the vocal warmups. He's offering to help you run lines. He's driving you home after rehearsals. He is a triple threat, but he doesn't prefer musicals because he doesn't like singing in front of an audience (even though he's an amazing singer). And I just know props absolutely hates him because he keeps touching shit that isn't his.
Kuras
Hospital AU and Angels/Demons AU is too easy. Instead, I'm giving him the flower shop owner in flower shop/tattoo shop AU. Anyone here like KurAis? Anyways, I think it would be sweet to have him be the super-tall, kind but a little awkward and very knowledgeable owner of a flower shop. He probably enjoys crafting bouquets that have meaning in flower language. And yes, he knows about the nice meanings and the rude meanings, so you can get a "fuck you" bouquet from Kuras.
Detroit Become Human AU as an android. I barely remember D:BH but it was one of the first things that occurred to me when thinking about AUs for Kuras. Maybe because he'd be the kind of android who was like, "Don't worry, I'm not a real person, it's okay if I get shot repeatedly," and wouldn't understand why someone would be concerned about him anyways.
Elementary school teacher/single parent AU but I don't know if I want him to be the teacher or the parent. Do I want him to look after a group of children, making efforts to understand their silly little words and communicate with them so they learn and feel cared for? Or do I want him to be the struggling single parent who is so happy to see their child finally getting the attention they deserve outside the house? IDK, but I'd be happy either way.
Mhin
Superhero AU. They're kinda already halfway to superhero gear with the hood and the cape and the tight pants, but I think it be cool for them to dart from rooftop to rooftop, saving civilians and fighting crime. IDK if it'd be cooler if they were half-hero half-villain (controlled by their bird-monster side and wreaking havoc) or if it'd just be nice to have a crow hero motif. Anyway they save me and I'm a reporter who uses my reporter contacts to try and track them down not knowing they're actually my upstairs neighbor who I bring shepherd's pie and strawberry cupcakes to sometimes.
The other tattoo artist in tattoo shop/flower shop. You know how there's always some other character working in one or both of the shops? Ayeah that's Mhin. Number one, I think it'd be hot if they had tattoos. But even if they don't they're still hot when they give the tattoo because focus and skill are attractive. They're talented enough that Ais keeps them around even though they hate him. They never talk to him even though he's their boss. Over the course of the fic Mhin and Ais get closer b/c Kuras is friends with both of them and he wants them to like each other.
Angel/Demon AU as an angel because I want them to be corrupted :) I want them to be forced to submit to their own worst impulses :) and eventually realize that being evil makes them feel good and more importantly liberated and in control :) also maybe they can get wrecked by a demon please :)
Aaaand the DLC cast gets one as a treat!
Sen
Pacific Rim AU but PLEASE don't ask me why. I don't even REMEMBER Pacific Rim. But the clarity with which I could imagine Sen in a Pacific Rim AU is startling. She's gruff and she doesn't want to partner up with you, a rookie, but somehow you have perfect chemistry in the mech she doesn't want to acknowledge. She's too reckless out of disregard for her life, and you reel her in; you're inexperienced, and she fixes your mistakes. Then one day she starts to notice that she's guarding her own life more fiercely than ever before...because of you.
If that's not what Pacific Rim is about shhhh don't correct me /j
Elyon
Easy answer is pornstar/industry AU or camming AU but I'll never take the easy way out. And I know we don't know shit about the guy but I think reincarnation AU would kinda hit with him. His promo talks about wanting things money can't buy? Like possibly the ability to save his soulmate from dying and forgetting him over and over while he retains the memories of every life they've both shared and lived separately, as friends, lovers, enemies, and strangers? That would go hard imo.
If you read all of that, thanks! I hope you enjoyed~
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The 180 from how Katniss and Peeta are marketed as the safe healthy couple (which is what a lot of their relationship is about) to reading the actual text and witnessing two people who can’t live without each other and also have a lot of horny energy. Both of them really do seem to be eager to kiss and touch each other. They’re not really an innocent couple like the movies tried to make it seem
No, but like, it actually makes me ILL how down bad these two are for each other. I read this series nearly 14 years ago when I was 17 and I credit it for making me the absolutely wretched, thirsty bitch that I am. I've seen some takes where people say that she chose safe, calm love and while I get the idea - it's a misunderstanding of her monologue at the end about why she needs Peeta in her life. I think people read more than was intended in that "I have enough fire on my own" and kind of warped it to mean that her relationship with Peeta didn't have it's own heat or fire. THAT RELATIONSHIP IS SCORCHING AND THEY'RE BOTH IDIOTS, YOUR HONOR. I'm sorry, how is THIS lacking in fire? He tucks me in and says good night but I catch his hand and hold him there. A side effect of the sleep syrup is that in makes people less inhibited, like white liquor, and I know I have to control my tongue. But I don't want him to go. In fact, I want him to climb in with me, to be there when the nightmares hit tonight. For some reason that I can't quite form, I know I'm not allowed to ask that. "Why don't you get some sleep?" he says. Because I can't handle the nightmares. Not without you, I think. They are sure to be dreadful tonight. But I can hardly ask Peeta to come to sleep with me. We've barely touched since that night Gale was whipped. Instead he pulls me in close and buries his face in my hair. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touch my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I will not be the first to let go. There are literally so many of these but I'm going to limit myself to three because I'm on my lunch break and otherwise I'd be here all fucking day. (ALSO, ALSO, EXCUSE ME? SO IMPOSSIBLY GOOD???? I'VE SEEN FANFICTION WRITERS WRITE LESS THIRSTY SHIT THAN THAT, HOLY FUCK.) I maintain that if the movies had some sort of Lizzie McGuire-esque inner monologue cartoon version of Katniss, it would have been more patently clear just how fucking WILD Katniss was for Peeta.
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sheisjoeschateau · 8 days
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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | Part X
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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+
CHAPTER X WARNINGS/NOTES: t.w.'s - strong language, more angst, mention of dr*g abuse during childhood trauma, mentions of death and injuries, Max in a coma, fearful tears, shared sadness, major end-of-the-world terror talk. 18+
AUTHOR'S NOTE: As we dive deeper into just how in love Steve and Bauman continue to fall...we also dive deeper into darkness.
We get a glimpse into the childhood past of Bauman Squared.
Steve finally gets to laugh again with his kids -- and with the girl he wants to have his own kids with one day.
Dr. Owens comes back, but it's not why they expected. Erica is given the hardest burden of all. Robin & Eddie are the whacky aunt and uncle that everyone needed and basically get shit back on track while being thrown hard news. Argyle is actually just a kind dude. Nancy is pulling away, while Jonathan finally feels the gut-punching gravity of what he is losing. Jopper is still carrying the weight of both worlds.
And surprise, b*tches: DIMITRI IS BACK AND BOY IS HE SOOO BACK.
Lastly: chicken nuggets. That is all.
WHILE THIS IS A FANFICTION STORY: IT IS STILL MY WRITING. PLEASE RIGHTFULLY CREDIT ME WHEN REPOSTING OR SHARING. I DO NOT GRANT YOU PERMISSION TO POST MY WRITING AS YOUR OWN. - MISHA @sheisjoeschateau PROOFREAD UNTIL MY EYES BLED. IF THERE ARE STILL TYPOS, SORRY BOUT IT. 18+
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OH SO WE DO LOVE STEVE | Chapter X
“Why do I feel like this is some sort of twisted intervention?”
Erica Sinclair stood in the kitchen next to Murray as he cooked up something to share with a table of adults and teens — plus her.
“In a way, it is,” Murray responded to her as he stirred his ingredients. 
“...okayyyy,” Erica sassed, suspiciously.  “...then why do you want me here but not my brother or my other friends?”
Murray rolled his eyes.  Erica’s attitude was truly the one thing that could bring Murray’s entire mental empire crumbling down like a tower of cards being blown over by a gust of wind.  He pointed his spatula in her direction.
“Think of it this way, kiddo,” he said through a wry, condescending smirk.  “It’s like getting invited to sit at the adults’ table instead of the kids’ table for thanksgiving.  And you’re the only one we’re inviting before you get to go up there and hang out with your little friends.  Alright?”
Erica narrowed her eyes.  “What do I need to know that they don’t?”
Sauce dripped from the spatula as he stared at her.  Christ, she was relentless.  Then again…at least she seemed somewhat perturbed by the idea of knowing things before her brother and their friends.  That was pretty damn selfless for Erica Sinclair.  She cocked an eyebrow at Murray — who squinted back at her.
“Okay, why are you not as willing about this as I thought you’d be…”
“Look,” Erica said, crossing her arms.  “If I’m going to be made to keep a secret?  I need to know all the facts first.  Especially if I have to keep it from my brother.  And Steve.  And Bauman.”
Murray sighed through his nose.  She was right.  Mature, and right.
“I don’t want you to keep it a secret for good,” Murray clarified, speaking slowly.  “I just — we just need you to be made aware of some things before we bring it to everyone else’s attention.  And truth be told?  Harrington needs a break.  So does my niece.  And your friends?  They need some time with mom and dad.  You do, too.  But right now?  You’re the party member in charge of taking on some big information before we spread it to the rest of them.  And quite frankly?  I’m counting on you to help me — and the rest of us — help break it to them.  Got it?”
Erica let all of that land, her guarded expression softening into one of civil understanding.  She pursed her lips, considering this.  Finally, she nodded.
“Alright.  Deal.”
Murray shot her a thumbs up, resuming his cooking.
“That’s really lumpy,” Erica pointed to his saucepan with a soured expression.
“Ohforheaven'ssake —”
__________________________
Robin had taken on laundry duty on Steve’s behalf, knowing that Jonathan intended to talk with him.  Which is why she’d asked Nancy to help her with it, and it has turned out to be a good thing.
Nancy was clearly fraying at the seams.  There was a lot going through her mind, and it was all spiraling fast.  She needed someone to talk to, but none of her options seemed safe. 
She had no idea how or when to break everything she had been feeling to Steve. 
Her relationship with Jonathan was so tense and strained, any conversation shared with him had just blown up. 
And her mom would need to know everything about the upside down, in order to give her proper advice…and at this rate, that option seemed to have no place in this world. 
She couldn’t go to Joyce, because that’s Jonathan’s mom. 
Hopper and Murray were out of the question. 
She wasn’t close enough with Eddie to even consider it. 
And Argyle?  Well, he’d said about as much as he could say.  Far more than what she’d expected, if she was being honest.  
Nancy’s only other option was Robin Buckley.
“God, I swear — the air’s a disease at this point.”
Robin had sat next to Nancy on the porch, carrying the laundry basket.  Nancy quickly wiped a few stray tears, which Robin pretended not to notice – even when Nancy shot her a very forced, tight-lipped grin.
“Yeah,” Nancy chuckled wetly.  “It’s uhh, yeah.  Plagued at this point.  Thanks, Vecna.”
Robin nodded with a smirk.  “Yeah.  Thanks a lot, Vecna.  Fuck you, man.”
That made Nancy giggle, which Robin was grateful to see.  She decided to start off slow, not wanting to force anything.  After all, clearly Nancy was clearly going through it.  And the way she and Robin had started off?  Not great.  Buckley was definitely not trying to push her luck.  Sure, the two of them had gotten along super well as time passed, truly becoming friends while living in Steve’s house.  But they weren’t exactly best friends.  Friends for sure.  But not like Nancy and Barb had been.  Not even close.
“You know,” Robin mused.  “Sometimes, I think back to high school and how…I never really had a best friend while I was there.  Not like you did.”
That made Nancy turn to look at her, curiosity radiating for her bright blue eyes.
“You and Barb,” Robin explained.  “You two were thick as thieves.  She always made sure to take extra notes in Click’s class for you.”
Nancy’s eyes shone with melancholy fondness.  “She did…?”
“Yeah,” Robin smiled.  “Always.  Saved them on little flashcards and everything.  She was always like, ‘I gotta make sure I get this for Nance.’  Or whenever something crazy went down in the classroom, I could tell she was just itching to tell you about during lunch or after school.”
Nancy beamed at that.  She shook her head, grinning widely.  “God, I swear… Barb was like — like that little old lady who couldn’t help but wanna gossip.  Even though she hated drama, she loved it at the same time.  As long as it wasn’t hers or ours.”
“That totally tracks,” Robin snorted.  “What an icon, really.”
“Schyeah,” Nancy giggled wholeheartedly.  “Yeah, she…she was the best.”
Robin watched as Nancy gnawed at her lip, feeling the wave of sadness wash over her.  
“I just wish…” Nancy murmured, voice shaky.  “Just wish that I could…talk to her sometimes, you know?  Not just to tell her how sorry I am.  For everything that happened before she…”
Nancy’s voice trailed off.  Robin dared to reach over and touch her shoulder, relieved when Nancy didn’t push her away or tense underneath her touch.
“I just wanna ask her questions,” Nancy’s voice shook.  “So many questions, like…like the way we used to.  As best friends.  About — everything.  Life, family, love…friends…the end of the fucking world…”
Robin nodded.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I know.”
Because Robin did know.  Whenever she had become best friends with Steve, it had made her world significantly brighter.  Her heart was full, and her soul had been lifted out of its constant anxiety-ridden state.  Robin had been so closed off to bonding with anyone, especially the likes of Steve Harrington.  Little did she know, that guy would end up being her truest best friend and confidant.  The one she could lean on, tell anything to and count on for the rest of her life.  However short that might be, given the end of the world… But she had Steve by her side, trusting him with every secret she had and her literal life in his hands.  
Barb had been that for Nancy.  But she was gone.
“I don’t know what to do,” Nancy’s voice cracked.  She looked over at Robin with tear rimmed eyes, fighting them from falling as she bit down on her trembling lip.  “About…anything.”
Robin kept listening, wanting so badly to go on a rant but willing herself not to.  Because right now, it’s Nancy who needs to rant.  She needed to ramble until she couldn’t anymore.
“I’ve been so…God, I’ve been so in love with Jonathan since we met and…got through all of this together.  It just…just...worked.  Clicked, made sense.  Way more sense than Steve, but — but Steve and I, we…what we had was…it was real.  Really real.  Even Barb saw it, she just — just didn’t want me getting hurt, or…losing myself for a guy.  But I didn’t really.  Steve never pushed me to do anything that I didn’t wanna do, or…wasn’t ready for.  Ever.  Not once.  He was kind to me, and…and I feel like…like I just… I think I’m the one who did wrong by him.  Not the other way around.  All because I just felt so…lost, and conflicted, and scared, and unsure, and…and…”
Nancy curled in on herself, tears falling down her cheeks as she ducked her face out of sight.  But Robin scooched closer to her, enveloping her into a comforting embrace as she wept.  And Nancy let her, allowing herself to lean against her.
“I told him what we had was bullshit and it wasn’t,” Nancy cried bitterly.  “It wasn’t, he's not -- I was just…so fucking mad that Barb was gone.  And it was easier to blame Steve, all because he wasn’t hurting the way that I was.  The way that I still am.  But that’s — that’s n-not — b-because he d-doesn’t…c-care…”  
Nancy’s shoulders convulsed, and Robin’s heart broke for her as she held her tighter.
“B-but Jonathan had lost Will, so h-he…he got it.  H-he knew wh-what I was…going through… And I-I j-just felt...so r-right with him.  Because l-looking at him didn’t remind me of…of…”
Nancy choked on a sob.  
Robin knew she meant Barb.  She didn’t have to say it.
“I’m angry.  For me, for Barb, for Steve, for Jonathan…my mom, dad, Mike…everyone.  All the time.  And I just d-don’t know what to do, because…Jonathan shut me o-out, and w-wanted to b-break up with m-me all because he felt like…he was…holding me back, and wouldn’t just t-talk…to me…and then S-Steve… Steve, h-he wanted me back b-but now…h-he…he loves…he loves…”
Nancy ugly cried into her palms, muffling the noise so that it wouldn’t be heard from anyone inside.  Robin clung to her, rocking them back and forth with some gentle, soothing shushes.
“He loves her, Robin,” Nancy cried, heartbreak and anguish lacing her voice.  “He loves her, and s-she loves him back.  S-so much…b-better than I d-did…and I…I should be…so h-happy for him.  And h-her, but I just…I just…wonder if I…did I…did I m-mess up…?  Did I lose the p-person I was s-supposed to b-be with?  I just didn’t…think he’d…move on…and that’s so…fucking SELFISH of me…”
Robin squeezed her.  “It’s not selfish.  It’s human.  Steve is amazing.  But Nancy…it’s okay that you didn’t go back to him.”
“But you thought I should,” Nancy leaned back now.  She looked at Robin dead in the eye with bloodshot, red rimmed eyes.  They swam in regrets, sorrows and bitterness.
“You and Eddie both thought that we should,” she said, voice croaked and upset.  “Y-you both…thought that we…shouldn’t have…broken up, or…”
“You’re right,” Robin admitted, feeling bad but deciding it was best to just own up to it.  “You’re right, I did.  We did.  Me and Eddie.  But Nancy…sometimes we’re just so distracted by what seems right…that we can’t see what’s actually right in front of us.”
Nancy looked at her quizzically.  Robin sighed.
“Look, when you left Steve,” Robin explained, taking her hand into both of hers.  “Back in senior year, and you got with Jonathan…you two had your own journey.  You had each other.  Steve?  Steve had no one during his — except for the kids…and Bauman.  Because back then, he didn’t know yet.  He didn’t know about her and Murray intervening —”
“Yeah, I know,” Nancy said bitterly.  “We all know that now.”
“Just hear me out,” Robin pleaded with her softly.  “I promise, I’m with you, alright?”
Nancy stared at her for a moment, finally softening her tense jaw and nodding once.  Robin picked back up, on cue.
“Steve still had a lot of growing up to do.  On his own.  Dustin was the first to reach out to him.  Well, he basically forced himself on Steve.  And Steve needed that.  He’s an only child.  He needed a little brother to give him grief, and boss him around and pick on him.  You have Mike.  Steve didn’t have that until Dustin wormed his way into his life." Robin added with a smile, " ...and his heart.”
Nany thought about that, expression pensive with realization.
“Then Bauman came along,” Robin continued.  “She was Steve’s age… You and Jonathan were off with the adults.  He got left behind to watch the kids with her.  They went through…a lot of shit that night.  You did, too.  But so did they.  They fought off Billy Hargrove.  They protected the kids, fought off the demodogs in the tunnels.  They survived the night together.  You know what that feels like.  You and Jonathan bonded that way.  Right?”
Nancy hesitates but looks back at her, sniffing.  Eventually, she nods again.
“Right," Robin exhales deeply, proceeding. "So Steve… Steve had someone his age to be around, along with the kids.  And that was great.  Because she’s independent and badass, but also really chill and down to earth.  Like, some sort of femme tomboy.  Which Steve lowkey kind of needed, she really was exactly what --"
“Robin, I get it,” Nancy snapped, not wanting to hear about you in a complimentary way.  At least not at this moment.
“No, hear me out,” Robin insisted, giving her hands another squeeze.  “You need to hear this, Nancy, alright?  You know you’re beautiful.  You know Steve has been helplessly in love with you for years.  That’s not even a question.”  
Robin paused, shifting gears again as she refused to let Nancy look away from her.  
“...but Steve had to move on.  Or…find ways to convince himself that he could.  And Bauman?  She was there for that.  She was around, during all his growth.  And trust me – it was ugly.  You have nothing to envy there.  God, the way that they argued?  The way Steve talked to her, honestly?  Honestly.  You would’ve slapped him.  I sure as hell did a few times.  Mostly verbal slapping.  But I hit him a few times, not gonna lie.  You’ve seen the highlights of Steve’s growth.  You have seen the best parts of him, but…but Bauman was there for all of it.  She got to see it all happen in real time, from the second you and Jonathan met back up with them to right now.  And she owned up to her shit, too.  It wasn’t her fault, by no means was it her fault.  But hey, she took the hits.  Many times.  And she still ended up falling in love with Steve, who she swore was the last person who would ever win her over.  Those two knuckleheads were relentless whenever I came into the picture.  Fighting like lovers in a quarrel with absolutely zero history of affection to show for it.  But still, they got through shit together.  They put their differences aside for the kids, and when it came to fighting off the Russians?  She and Steve honestly kept me so sane.  And they kept us safe, too.  Me, Dustin and Erica.  They didn’t get along in the real world, but in the upside down world?  They did.  They didn’t even think twice.  Steve grew into a way better person because of her.  And she opened up a lot more because of him, and the kids.  She didn’t grow up with siblings either.  That’s another thing they have in common.”
Nancy took all of that in with a solemn expression.  Robin let that sink in before continuing.
“I know this is…a lot.  But really, Nancy…so much happened while you were gone.  Those two fell in love over time without even knowing it.  Shit, we didn’t know it either.  That was a plot twist for all of us — including Murray.  Despite what he says, that guy does not know everything.”
Nancy scoffed.  “I know that.”
“Of course you do.  We all do.  He does, too.  Especially now.  Now that his niece and Steve are clearly so head over heels in love with one another.”
Nancy’s heart sank at that.  She knew that it was true.
“I’m not…” Nancy mumbled, eyes downcast.  “I’m not mad at her for falling in love with him.  Or him.  I just…can’t help but wonder if I messed up.  Missed out on someone that I loved more than I allowed myself to when we were together.”
“You couldn’t have loved him more back then, Nancy,” Robin corrected her.  “Because who he was then, is not who he is now.  And who he is now is someone that Bauman has played a huge role in him becoming.”
Nancy sniffed a few times, bringing her knees to her chest and lost in thought.
“Do you still love Jonathan?”
Nancy looked at her, surprised.  “What?”
“Tell me what you’re feeling there,” Robin pressed gently.  “Why is that going wrong again?”
Nancy got defensive.  “Um, what’s wrong is that he clearly planned on leaving me while I was back here being loyal to him.”
“Right,” Robin mused.  “But…what about after he got back?  What happened then?”
Nancy opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t.  She thought about that for a while.
“We just…” she started.  “...we just…moved past it.  We let it go.”
Robin nodded slowly.  “After all you two have been through…knowing damn well that things need to be talked about…you both really thought that was best?”
“He doesn’t ever tell me how he actually feels,” Nancy snapped.  “I’m so sick of it.  I always have to push him to tell me things.  He just — shuts me out.  Clams up, retreats.  He won’t even tell me when he’s upset about something unless I make him.”
“Well then,” Robin nods.  “That’s definitely on him.  But what about you?”
Nancy scrunches her face in confusion.  
“Why didn’t you tell him how you felt either?” Robin asks, unblinking.
Nancy stares at her, not knowing how to answer that.
“I told him that I love him,” Nancy whispers.  “And that I…that we’re fine.”
Robin’s expression softens.  “Do you wanna be?”
Nancy’s face crumbles.  “I…I want…”
Robin waits, not knowing what to expect but knowing that it’s getting somewhere.  
“I want him to love me again,” Nancy cries in despair.  “I want him to fight for me, and — and love me the way that I thought that he did.  That he would.  That he always would —”
Robin holds Nancy again as she convulses with sobs in her arms.  They stay that way for a little while, allowing the dust to settle.  Nancy has said enough for now.  It would all unravel itself more over time. 
Meanwhile, Eddie had told Jonathan to make his way upstairs and talk with Steve.
“You’re on, buddy boy,” Eddie told him with a hard pat on the back.  
So while Jonathan made peace with Steve, Nancy had finally released some of her emotions and confided in Robin.
And now, all the adults were in the kitchen as Murray made some food for the older teens and Erica.  They’d asked Robin and Eddie to make sure that Argyle, Jonathan and Nancy were all going to be present for it, along with Erica before she could go upstairs and join the kids.
So here they all were now: sitting at the dinner table while Murray and Erica served them up plates and bowls of random foods.  
Jonathan had watched Nancy make her way into the kitchen with Robin, newly fresh faced and eyes puffy from crying.  She wore her pajamas now, having taken a quick shower and washing off the anguish from her meltdown earlier.  Jonathan’s heart cracked in two, and it did even more as Nancy went to sit next to Robin.  He stood up, unable to help himself.
“I got you a seat here,” he said, voice shaky.
Nancy had looked over at him, eyes cold and expression blank.
“That’s alright,” she said, voice level and cool.  “We share a room.”
Nancy sat next to Robin, demeanor cool and calm and collected.  She was stiff, but there was a chilling resilience to her that Jonathan had not seen in a while.  It terrified him, making his anxiety spike.  Had he lost her?  Was he too late?
He swallowed hard, accepting it — given everyone else at the table.  Hopper had awkwardly reached for some pepper as this was happening, working in slow motion as he felt really uncomfortable.  So Jonathan just nodded, and Joyce gave him a sympathetic look as she placed glasses of water and tea in front of everyone.
Eddie made concerned eye contact with Robin as he poured himself some water.  Yikes.
“I’ll sit next to you, my dude,” Argyle said warmly, knowing he needed to step in.  Jonathan was grateful for that, but still dying inside as he kept stealing glances at Nancy — who looked anywhere except his way.
Murray clicked his tongue loudly. “Alrighty then. Shall we?”
With a thud, he set down his plate. Joyce clenched her jaw but took a deep breath.
“Lay it on us,” Eddie said with a deep exhale, sitting down on the other side of Argyle. 
“Yeah, what’s this pow-wow and why is it just this group who's on it?” Erica questioned as she stationed herself on the other side of Robin. 
“Right,” Hopper sighed before shoveling a mouthful of mashed potatoes into his mouth and leaning back to chew, readying himself. Everyone waited patiently.
“Here’s the deal,” he began, leaning forward and eyeing everyone individually as he spoke. “No one here is being made to keep a secret. That’s not what’s going on.”
“So then why is it private?” Robin asked curiously. 
“Because right now…we need to set some things straight. Set in stone.  Before we dive into our group meeting tomorrow. Consider this…a board meeting of sorts.”
Jonathan furrowed his brow. “Don’t we want Bauman and Steve for that?”
Hopper sighed deeply, rubbing at his beard. “This affects them. And the kids.”
Eddie raised his eyebrows at that, feeling nervous. He looked over at Robin, who looked just as worried.
Erica scrunched her face up. “Then why am I here?…”
“Because I need one of you kids to be level headed and vouch for me,” Hopper explained. “And for Joyce and Murray. We’ve spent a lot of time figuring this out. Weighed out our options, talked to El about it.”
“Does she know?” Nancy asked.
“Some,” Hopper nodded. “Most… Not all.”
Erica leaned forward, truly listening and accepting that she was clearly going to need to stick with some sort of plan that her friends were not going to be keen on…
Hopper contemplated his next words carefully.
“Look. Tonight, I need those kids to rest. To laugh, play some card games. Eat too much candy, and just have a good night. Soak up all the fun they can get before this mandate goes into effect soon. And before we have to go forward with a plan.”
Hopper made sure that everyone was with him on that.  Off their nods, he continued.
“There’s two groups. One that’ll stay here, in hiding. Down in the basement, where we’ve already started making up basecamp. They’ll have to stay hidden.  Out of sight.  Quiet.  On high alert.  It’s a gamble.  Just because they’ll be home…it doesn’t guarantee them any safety.”
Hopper took a deep breath, eyes filled with dread.  He rubbed at the gap between his pinched brows.
“…the other group will have to risk getting back out there.  And we won’t be anywhere that’s not swarmed and completely surrounded by the government and — god-knows-who-else, before we can get ourselves back near the largest gate that’s torn itself open and is ready to swallow Hawkins.”
Everyone’s blood ran cold. 
No one was safe. They weren’t before, but now? Nothing was off the table. Everything was high risk, no matter where anyone was stationed.
“If you’re sitting here,” Hopper continued slowly, voice grave, “at this table, listening to this conversation…minus Erica and Murray...you’re in Group 2. ”
Nancy and Jonathan both felt their chests constrict, but they understood. It didn’t surprise them per se. And at this point, nothing should scare them. But it did.
Joyce looked at her eldest son, torn but knowing it had to be done.
Erica looked over at Murray, who gave her a soft nod.
Robin and Eddie looked at each other, along with Argyle, shuddering. 
“Dimitri is going with us,” Hopper added.
“Who’s he?” Jonathan asked.
“Russian soldier,” Joyce told him, holding up a hand to clarify. “He’s on our side.”
Jonathan hesitated but eventually gave her a small nod. He looked over at Nancy, who was staring down at the table with her teeth sunk into her bottom lip.
“He’s got insight,” Hopper continued. “Knows what we’re dealing with, and how to handle what we’re all up against.  We’ll need as many of us as we can get out there.  Those of us who know the risks, and know how to navigate this world.”
Robin processed that, thinking. “So that…where does that leave Steve and Bauman?”
Hopper was quiet. The way he gnawed his cheek made it clear that this was where it got messy.
“Steve is on the frontlines with us,” Hopper explained carefully. “…and Bauman is stationed back here with Murray and the kids, along with Dr. Owens.”
Robin’s heart sank, and so did Eddie’s. They both shared a sad, all-knowing look.  They knew this wasn’t going to go well.  At all. They knew that Steve was going to flip his shit at just the idea of leaving you out of his sight.
“Won’t Dr. Owens have a target on his back?” Eddie asked, concerned. “Won’t that — won’t that draw more danger here…?”
That made Robin look at Hopper, wide-eyed. The retired cop looked pale, eyes full of dread.
“He has to be here in case anything happens to Bauman or Max,” he explains solemnly. “Because if shit goes south here…they’ll need to run.”
Jonathan felt sick.  This also meant leaving Will behind.  “But…how? How can they run?”
“That’s where I come in,” Murray chimes in. “Between me and Erica and Dustin, we’ll be able to keep a close eye out for a signal — which Will can help us navigate.”
“Because he’s still connected to it all,” Joyce explains sadly.  “He still…feels it. He senses when it’s near.”
“Which is why he’ll be able to give us a warning,” Murray nods, adding to Joyce’s input. “Since El has to be out there with you guys, we’ll still have a connected source that's here with us.”
“The kids can’t do this,” Hopper adds, tone firm. “Not this time.  El doesn’t count, as much as I want her to stay back.  She can’t.  I know that.” He looks at Erica with parental eyes.  “But as far as the rest of you kids go?  No more.  It’s already bad enough having to risk you all staying here.  But if this is how it’s gotta go down?  You’re staying where there’s a controlled space, with 2-3 solid abort mission plans — which Murray knows from top to bottom.”
Erica hangs her head, but she nods. She knows this makes sense. 
“As for Bauman,” Hopper continues, eyes sad. “She’s not able to get back out there. Between her heart issues and her bad shoulder and ribs…she has to stay put.”
“No, I agree with that,” Robin says, voice full of gravel before she clears it. “But, umm…I’m just…really worried that…well it’s just — Steve, he’s um, he’s —”
“He’s going to have to do this,” Hopper interjects, but not unkindly. In fact, it’s full of empathy and remorse. “He knows the ways. You’ll all need him. His stamina, his strength. He’s strong, good with a bat and can outrun shit.  He also knows what to keep an eye out for, whatever comes our way.”
Eddie gulps, partially because he’s terrified about facing the underworld again…but also because he knows that Steve will be a wreck the entire time he’s gone with them and not with you. And if Eddie’s being honest, the idea of leaving you and the kids behind is killing him too. He’s especially grown to love you and Dustin over the last year.
“This isn’t open for discussion,” Hopper says, voice firmer and tone low.  “Tomorrow, when we have our living room meeting, I’ll be conveying this to everyone…along with Murray and Joyce.  And I need to know I have each and every one of you on our side.  Those kids are going to raise hell.  All of them are.  And this plan is not changing.  It’s either this…or we all stay hunkered down until we rot.  Am I making myself clear?”
Nancy and Jonathan nodded first, quickly followed by Robin and Eddie.
“Yes sir,” Argyle spoke first, and for the first time he genuinely looked aware of just how heavy all of this stuff really is.  Jonathan gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.
“Erica,” Hopper was looking directly at the youngest person sitting across the table.  “I’m counting on you.  I know that’s not fair, but I am.  You’re tough as nails.  You’re gonna have to be that way with your brother, and his friends.  Your friends.  You'll have to be hard...but gentle enough to get it through to him.  I don’t care what you gotta do, you do it.  Whatever you have to say?  Say it.  And if anybody gives you shit for knowing this before they did…send them to me.  Understood?”
Erica looked back at Hopper with the most somber expression.  But she nodded.
“Understood,” she said, voice low.
Hopper gave her a curt nod before looking over at the older teens.
“As for you guys,” he said.  “We all know the shit that just went down yesterday at the fence.  Bauman’s always been at the frontlines with us.  She can’t be now.  And Steve cannot hang back.  He’s got too much strength that we can’t afford to not have on our side of this battle.  And I don’t care if Bauman insists she can do it.  She can’t, and she won’t.”
“And if she gets stubborn,” Murray interjects, voice fierce.  “Tell me.  If she tries pulling a fast one?  You tell me.  Capiche?”
Eddie and Robin quickly nod up and down.
“I’ll talk to him if it gets bad,” Jonathan says in a weak voice.
Nancy narrows her eyes at him.  Since when do he and Steve talk?
“Good,” Joyce says with a sad, tight-lipped grin and nod at her son.  “He’ll need it.”
"I'll be there for him, too," Robin nodded at Jonathan.
“Will we be able to stay in contact with them at least?” Eddie asks pathetically.  “Via the walkies?”
“When necessary...yes,” Hopper confirms.  “We’ll have to be scarce about it.  Selective.  Nowhere is safe.  It’ll have to be reserved for vital communication only.”
Eddie frowned, but nodded in understanding.  Robin was currently biting her palm, consumed with dread and sickening anxiety.  Leaving you behind?  The kids?  Even Murray, who everyone had come to appreciate in their own weird sort of way — mostly because of how much they all loved you.  He was an extension of you.  The whole situation just felt…fucked.
But wasn’t everything fucked?  Wasn’t this entire world so catostrophically fucked in every single which way, seemingly irreparable?  
Was there actually an end to this nightmare?  A world in which the upside down would cease to exist…monsters would go back to their storybooks and dark, twisted fairy tales…the moon would only ever symbolize light within forgotten darkness...and the sun would never hide behind the ashy debris that currently clung to the air, just outside their windows?
Despite how everything looked grim, with seemingly no end in sight…you all persisted in choosing to believe.  Yes.  Yes, this was going to end.
The end of the world was nearing.  It was inevitable.
But it wouldn’t be your world.
***
You never really put much thought into what having a family would feel like one day.
You’d wondered.  Every little girl does.  In young girlhood, there’s the beauty of innocence that protectively surrounds all grown-up dreams that fuel your wildest imagination.  The dreams of never having to go to school, and being in charge of everything you want.  The dreams of being able to eat whatever you want, whenever you want.  The dreams of meeting your future husband, and getting to wear a big white, sparkly ballgown as you walk down the aisle to your happily ever after.  The dreams of being a princess in a big castle, ruling the land and having cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and tea parties everyday with your friends.
Sure, you’d had those dreams as a little girl.  How could you not?  It was inevitable.
But as you grew older, you didn’t really have a chance to fantasize about much.  You’d been made to grow up from a very young age.  Your grandmother had been there for you enough.  She kept a roof over your head.  Food on the table.  A very generous allowance, even though you never asked for one and you’d gotten yourself a job by the age of 13 painting peoples’ houses and doing yard work.  You’d even gotten hired by your uncle to do data entry for him, along with a couple of his contacts who did intense investigative research and needed someone to work remotely.  You earned your own living, and you did upkeep on your grandmother’s house — despite her never asking you to do so.  She was gone a lot.  She wasn’t very old.  Just a smoker who liked casinos and taking trips with her “friend” from time to time.  A woman, who she only ever referred to as her "assistant."  You knew better than to believe that, but you never said anything about it.  She was a closeted lesbian — which is why Robin coming out of the closet for you had been the easiest news to take, let alone support.  Your grandmother was a tough, long-acrylic-nails-donning boss bitch who did whatever the hell she wanted.  You’d gone with her many times to some casino resorts, mostly staying in the hotel room or just walking around the city.  It felt like living with a Mafia Mobwife.  It was cool, for the most part.  But it definitely meant being able to hold your own.  She’d raised herself when she was a kid — and in most ways, you did too.
It’s why you’d spent so much time with your uncle, who didn’t live very far.  He was home a lot.  Given his line of work, he didn’t go out much.  He became even more of a hermit as the years went on, and you liked that.  It meant consistency.  His spare room basically became your room.  It couldn’t exactly be considered a “guest room” when he never had guests over.  You’re the only person he invited over for company, and he loved it.  The two of you got along effortlessly.  His dark humor rubbed off on you early on, which your grandmother shared in but she wasn’t nearly as quick-witted as Murray.  That’s where you got it from.  But your dry, snarky wit was much more selectively timed than his.  He was all over the place.  You had solid social cues, given that you went to school and were around people often.  Your uncle was definitely an oddball.  But you loved him to death, and you got him better than anyone else did.
You weren’t babied.  You weren’t coddled, or sheltered, or given false hope about the world.  It’s why you held your own, and it’s also why you never victimized yourself.  It was to a fault, but you believed it was for the best.
So when Clark broke your heart into a million pieces, you told yourself it had been a risk from the start.  A gamble, just like the poker tables at those casinos that your grandmother frequented all the time.  Love was a dangerous game, and it spared no one.  There were winners and losers — and you’d lost this one.
But right now, in this moment, you felt as though you had just won every single jackpot that there was to win.  
Because right now, you were sitting in Steve’s lap on the floor of Max’s room in his big house, holding cards closely to your chest as Lucas screeched GO FISH at Dustin.  Steve’s hand was in plain sight, and if you were a cheater you’d have him beat in seconds.  But you didn’t need to win a stupid card game…because you had won the greatest game of all: life.
El and Mike were cuddled up close to each other, giggling and being young teens in love.  In a normal world, you would assume it to be puppy love between them.  But this world wasn’t normal, and the shit that they’d been through together wasn’t any different than what you and Steve had been through together.  It was real love, and you let them be that way.
Lucas was seated next to Max in her bed, holding her hand and laughing like a kid again.  Dustin was hoarding all of the candy from his backpack (so much for sharing) and laughing like a buffoon.  He bickered with Steve and the kids as usual, but something about it was just so…bright.  Hearty laughter bounced off the walls, and there were so many times that Steve had belly laughed — along with you and the other kids — that you’d all lost count.
Sometimes, you swore that you saw Max’s lips twitch.  As if she could hear you all in her coma, wanting to laugh along with everybody.  Lucas would talk to her as if she could hear you all just fine, squeezing her hand and kissing her forehead while showing her his hand in cards.  Dustin even gave her a sleeve of her favorite candy — just for her.  He might not have basic manners with the rest of you, but Max?  Always.  
Will was keeping score, seated next to you and Steve with the biggest smile you had ever seen him wear.  He laughed hysterically the entire night, even going as far as verbally expressing adoration for you and Steve.  Dustin would pretend to gag, but Will would just tell him he knew better than to think that the curly-haired smart alec wasn’t completely in love with the two of you being together.  Dustin had grinned all dopey and wide, rolling his eyes but not arguing with him any further.  
At some point, Mike suggested all swapping ghost stories.  
Lucas had barked the loudest laugh.  “How about the one we’re currently living??”
“Hey, hey,” Steve interjected.  “I got a better idea.  Tell your most embarrassing story.  One you’re scared shitless to tell.”
You'd grinned in his arms, snickering.  “Oh I got plenty of those.”
“I mean hey,” Dustin shrugged with a mouthful of candy.  “If we’re gonna die, we might as well get real.”
“Okay chill, we’re not going to die,” Steve scoffed, hiding his internal worry.
“It’s possible,” Mike shrugged, grabbing another bag of M&M’s.
Steve huffed.  “Dammit, Wheeler —”
Mike’s devilish grin was infuriating yet endearing at the same time.
“I wish Max could hear all of this,” El said with a tinkering laugh.
You gave her the warmest of smiles and a wink.  “Trust me.  She does.”
“Hell yeah,” Lucas smiled wide, squeezing Max’s hand.  “I’ll even tell one of her stories, for her.”
“...dude, she’s gonna kill you,” Dustin warned him, but there was a smirk lifting at the corner of his lips.
“I’ll go first,” Will announced, laying on his stomach as he ate some popcorn.  “One time?  I was asleep in bed but I woke up because I heard Jonathan moaning so loudly — like, disturbingly loud —”
“Okay, maybe I needed to lay down some ground rules here —” Steve starts with a very tight voice as you snorted into your palm.
“Just hear me out,” Will laughs, holding a hand.  “I thought it was with a girl —”
“William,” Steve scolded.
“But he was in the bathroom,” Will talked over him.  “Shitting his brains out.”
Dustin cackled while Mike audibly expressed disgust while laughing at the same time.  El looked shocked, giggling hysterically into her hand.
“Damn, that bad?!” Lucas roared.
“He lit every candle in the house,” Will cackled.  “Mom went to use it shortly after him and came barreling into our rooms to ask us in a panic what had died up one of our butts!”
Steve collapsed into you laughing, and you couldn’t even breathe from laughing so hard.  It was that sort of deep laughter that’s so painful because it’s quiet before you’re able to finally erupt with loud laughs that help you come down from a high.  All the kids were a fit of cackles and giggles, too.  Erica made her way into the room finally, jumping right into things and bringing cookies with milk.  All of you exchanged stories, allowing yourselves to only cry tears of joy.  It was exactly what you all needed, long overdue.
And for the first time in ages — none of you thought about the upside down, or the impending doom that awaited you just outside of the Harrington house throughout all of Hawkins.
That night, you and Steve tucked every single of your kids into their assigned sleeping bags and cots.  Lucas stayed with Max in her bed, asking you sheepishly if that was alright.  You’d nodded, along with Steve — more than approving.  And given you both would be chaperoning that night in the same shared room, you also let Mike and El cuddle up together in a sleeping bag.
“Hands outside of the covers, Wheeler,” Steve warned him, but he gave him a wink — adding please at the end.  Even Mike gave him a smile and nod, like a little kid who felt called out but also didn’t have any intention of disobeying.
Dustin and Will joked in high pitched voices about being bunkmates with their sleeping bags next to each other, given they were the two singles of the group.  Technically, Erica was too.  But even if she wasn’t, she would still demand her own space.  She had situated herself on the floor beside Lucas’s side of the bed, not planning to give him a hard time for a good while given what was in store for everyone tomorrow.
As for you and Steve — the two of you had stationed yourselves in the center of the room, closest to the door.  That way, you could see all your kids at any point during the night and also be the first to fight off any harm coming your way, should danger lurk on the other side of the locked bedroom door.
Steve ruffled Dustin’s hair as he dozed off, earning a sleepy little “hmph” from him.  After he made sure all of them were comfortably settled in for the night, he crawled over to you.  His nail bat was propped somewhere nearby — ready to be swung into action if need be.  But the need for it that night never came.
You curled into Steve’s chest, breathing in his clean, masculine scent and allowing it to fill all of your senses.  Sighing contentedly, you felt a rush of warmth wash over you as his lips pressed into the top of your head.
“I love you so much,” he whispered.
“I love you more,” you murmured in the softest of whispers.
You felt him chuckle against you.  “Impossible,” he breathed into your hair, pulling you so close to him you might as well be the same body.
And had you not been so completely relaxed in his arms, you might have fought him on it.  The whole "I love you more" thing. In fact you definitely would have.  But you just hummed, dozing off in his strong arms and allowing sleep to find you.
***
Waking up had been beautiful. The sun was even more hidden than usual, plagued by the new world coming into fruition. But despite the lack of sunshine outdoors, you felt as though it shone through the entire room as all the kids woke up and whispered to each other. You pretended not to hear them when they talked about you and Steve. Because if you were being honest? You’d been dying to hear their uncensored thoughts. If they thought that you weren’t listening, they wouldn’t hold back from saying what was actually on their mind.
Turns out?  All of them wanted this. The two of you together.  They laughed about how some of them thought that Steve was going to end up with Robin at first. 
“No way,” Lucas shook his head in a confident whisper. “Those two? They’re like brother and sister.”
“Yeah, but Bauman’s so out of his league,” Mike whispered back.
“She is not,” Will added in a defensive whisper.
“She so is,” Mike whispered indignantly.
“No way, Steve’s awesome,” Dustin defended in a whisper.
“Yeah but like,” Mike whispered, pondering with a sigh. “I mean yeah. He is. I like him. He’s cool. Way cooler than I thought he was at first. But Bauman’s literally a badass. She doesn't care what people think.”
“Steve doesn’t care anymore,” Erica chimes in, speaking softly. She’s actually pleading Steve’s case and it’s adorable.  “He used to. But when we were down there with the Russians? And he had to wear that stupid sailor outfit for work?…”
“Oh my god,” Dustin snickered. “That shit was so funny.”
“He looked like Shirley Temple from the Good Ship Lollipop,” Lucas snickered back, and Will had to shush them so that they wouldn’t wake you up.
“My point is,” Erica continued with sass. “Steve doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks of him now. I mean…he gave her hell the whole time I was around ‘em.”
“I still don’t get that,” Mike whispered.
“Me either,” El added quietly.
“What do you mean?” Dustin whispered in confusion. “I told you guys the whole story. That once upon a time ramble I had to sit through when Murray basically went on to give us an entire rundown on the two of them?”
“Well duh,” Mike whispered in annoyance. “I know that. But dude…she’s…like, she's...”
“Hot.”
Everyone went quiet, and you stiffened as you held back laughter. Because the person who had called you hot?  It was El.
“Bauman is hot,” El repeated.
Eventually someone snorted. Then, they all did. You bit back laughter, blushing into Steve’s chest with your face kept hidden.
“You’re hot,” Mike added to her in a coy whisper.
“No, you are,” she whispered back sweetly.
“Enough,” Erica whispered definitively. 
“Max thinks that Steve is hot,” Lucas scoffed.
“He is,” Erica and El said at the same time.
“Hey,” Mike whined, and they all shushed him.
“Face it, dude,” Dustin whispered flatly. “He is. I wish I looked like him.”
“You look great, man,” Will assured him. “You got a girl like Suzy. You gotta be a stud to catch someone like her.”
Dustin had blushed at that with a wide, dopey grin. “Think so?”
After listening to them chat some more, eventually Steve started to stir. He’d told them good morning, to which Dustin all too happily responded with a very loud good morning back —- making Steve audibly groan and bite back curse words. The kids all snickered. 
Will started handing out drawings out to everyone. You all had been sketching and drawing together in your assigned room earlier the day before, while Steve had been getting Max’s room ready.  Will had told you all to draw a picture of someone else in the party. He’d even chosen who was drawing who.  
Will and Lucas drew each other.
Mike and Erica drew each other.
El and Dustin drew each other.
And you drew Steve, before he joined you all and eventually drew his original art piece of you while you all played a round of the Game of Life.
Here you were now: holding your drawing close to your chest, and wiggling your eyebrows at Steve. He gave you the most adorable smirk, his cocoa brown eyes still a bit sleepy and his perfect hair the sexiest case of bed head. He stretched, toned arms flexing and his white t-shirt clinging to his muscles in all the right places while being loose enough to wanna rip it off of him…
Not the time, Bauman, you mentally scolded yourself.
Steve had reached underneath his pillow to fetch his drawing of you, holding it to his chest and sitting across from you — crossed-legged and shooting you a wink. All the kids mirrored you both, sitting opposite their assigned art piece subject with throaty giggles and snorts. 
Will looked at everyone excitedly, like a proud art professor, ready for his classroom to partake in show-and-tell.
“Alright,” he smiled. “Everyone ready?”
“Yeah, you go first, Byers,” Steve nodded at him with an encouraging grin.
Will blushed. “Oh…well…I mean…I should go last. You guys first. On the count of 3, everyone turn your photos around to your partner.”
Mike snorted as he stared down Erica. “Howdy, partner,” he drawled in a fake accent. El giggled, and so did Lucas. 
Erica shot Mike a wry smirk. “Easy now, cowboy.”
“Bet you made me look like a total loser,” Mike snickered. 
“I don’t have to draw you to make you look like that,” Eric’s said in the most sugary sweet, sarcastic voice.
“Okay snarkbutts, settle down,” Steve scolded lightly in a groggy voice, no heat behind it. “Will has the floor. William: proceed.”
Will saluted him. “Alright. Count of 3.”
“Please tell me you gave me teeth,” Dustin mumbled lowly to El.
“One…”
El shrugged. “I dunno.”
Dustin narrowed his eyes. 
“Two…”
Steve gave you a coy look, asking in the lowest of mumbles, “How big’s my hair?” 
You grinned like a devil, your voice lower. “Not as big as your other best trait.”
Steve lifted a very cocky eyebrow with a deepening grin.
“Three!”
Everyone turned their papers around, and a soft silence fell over you all minus a few little reactive intakes of breath.
Dustin had drawn El with a million eggo waffles in the sky around her. She looked like the most adorable cartoon character, with anime eyes and full cheeks. Her hair was shorter, the way she’d looked back in ‘83 whenever she’d returned. But it wasn’t slicked back. It was free, curly and a little wild. Her smile was innocent and childlike, and there was a policeman in the back waving. Hopper. 
El had drawn Dustin with his signature cap and his big toothy grin — which made him beam, because she did give him teeth in the drawing after all. And in this drawing, there were bubble boxes above him that read all the quotes she associated with him, like Steve! and She’s our friend and she’s crazy! and Shit shit shit shit shit!
Mike had drawn Erica into a comic strip. He showed her as just a wee tike, then at Scoops Ahoy with an ice cream cone, then playing DND. The last image of the strip showed her with her arms crossed and a triumphant smile, with a banner behind her that read Welcome to the Party.  (…as Erica looked at it, she felt the most unfamiliar warmth seep into her bones and the joyful sting behind her eyes sent her into pure shock.)
Erica had drawn Mike on his bike, riding through the neighbor with his backpack and a flashlight. His dark hair blew in the wind, and there was a thought bubble above him with little heads that resembled all of his best friends.  Above him and the thought was a quote: “Mike Wheeler: nerd, snark machine and superhero to all.”  (…Mike felt so emo, he didn’t know what to do with it.)
You had drawn Steve in a very chic sort of hot anime-like way.  It honestly looked like an actual character that existed in an anime universe.  In the drawing, Steve held his nail bat in one hand and a McDonald’s happy meal in the other.  He didn’t quite understand that part at first — until he spotted behind him, there was a Winnebago.  Six familiar faces, very stick-figure-esque, stood there waving.  You also stood there, with a quote above your head: “six-piece nuggets, coming right up.”  Steve breathed the fondest of chuckles as he took it all in, wanting to laugh and smile and cry and tackle you with his kids all at the same time.
Steve’s drawing of you was more adorable than you ever thought him capable of drawing.  You were the cutest little cartoon, backpack over your shoulder with combat boots — but you were wearing the most beautiful dress.  It was yellow, which complimented the happy blue sky behind you.  Yours and Steve's favorite colors combined.  There was a big house behind you, with seven other stick figures that looked an awful lot like Steve and your six nuggets.  And right next to you, there was a dictionary-esque definition of you:
BAUMAN (Pronounced bow•men)
A professional love-life ruiner; cute but psycho; hardcore but soft; too smart for her own good; humor darker than the dark espresso she drinks straight, because she’s a sociopath; also hotter than said cup of coffee; terrifyingly beautiful from the inside out; my mortal enemy turned favorite person; the girl who makes everything make sense; someone I can’t fathom living without, and can’t believe I ever thought I could; the love of my life, in this one and the next and so on, so long as she’ll have me.
You had never felt so full in your entire life, and neither had Steve. The two of you just stared at each other’s drawings. Grinning, glassy-eyed, chuckling, aching, filled with every ounce of joy and every ounce dread — all at once.  Neither of you could speak, but neither of you had to. Your eyes, along with his, spoke volumes. They said everything there was to say, just as much as your sketches did.
Lucas had drawn Will in a wizard’s outfit.  He held a tall, majestic scepter — with a large hat on top of his head.  Surrounding him was a large swirl of colors, whimsical and light, painting a galaxy of sorts.  And in this galaxy, there were little floating stick figures with all his friends’ names above them.  Will was smiling in the drawing, with his hands in the air and on top of the world.  Literally, because in the picture he was standing on top of a globe.
As for Will...he had drawn Lucas at a basketball game. He was scoring the winning basket, and an entire crowd cheered behind him.  All of you were there.  Will was there, next to all his friends.  You and Steve were next to each other, along with his mom, Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle, Eddie, Robin and Hopper.  Even your Uncle Murray.  
And Max…that’s where Will’s drawing got unique. 
She was piggybacking Lucas, as he jumped and shot the winning score of the game, her laugh radiating through all the pens and crayons and markers that Will had used to sketch her.  She was alive, as were the rest of you.  Very much alive.
Just as you all were right now, inside one of Steve Harrington’s many bedrooms in his big house with no parents.  
No matter what doom was swiftly approaching — no matter what monsters were looming underneath the surface, and already roaming the real world — you all were together.  You had each other.
You always will.
***
Late morning upstairs has been kind to you.  It's been light.  Hopeful. 
There’s something about walking downstairs that makes the energy shift.  It sends an odd sort of chill up your spine, despite Steve’s arm draped securely over your shoulders as you wear one of his large gray hoodies with your bad arm in a sling.  You feel a certain pang in your chest as the kids follow you all down into the kitchen…but this time, it’s not because of your heart arrhythmia.
As Hopper and Joyce smile at you all in the kitchen, greeting you warmly and having prepared a table full of pancakes that had smiley faces decorated with whipped cream and chocolate chips and strawberries on top — something about the scene frowns at you.  A deep frown that you’ve seen on everyone’s faces whenever there is bad news waiting to be shared.
Your uncle is coming over to hand you a hot cup of decaf coffee, winking at you and Steve as he gives him a tight shoulder squeeze.  He’s moving past you both towards the man named Dimitri, who is walking in from the living room.  Murray brings him over to introduce you.
“Dimitri, this is my niece,” Murray grins.
You shake his hand firmly with your good arm, smiling gratefully.  “Heard a lot about you.”
“You as well,” the man says with a genuine smile, kind vibrant eyes and a thick Russian accent.  He’s definitely seen some shit.
“And this is Steve,” Murray gestures, a bit of a coy glint in his eye.  “Her boyfriend.”
Steve blushes, a soft smile gracing his features and shining through his eyes.  He wholeheartedly adores being called that out loud for the very first time: your boyfriend.
Your uneven heart skips several more beats, which typically would raise a lot of concern — but at the moment, you’re too fucking happy to care or pay it any mind.  You watch Steve flash his signature charming smile and reach out to firmly shake hands with Dimitri, who is looking back at your handsome boy with the widest grin.  The masculine exchange of lighthearted friendly words between the two men makes your stomach dance for some reason, especially as your uncle chuckles along with them.  
This is completely uncharted territory for you. Nothing about this moment is familiar.  But you could really get used to it.  It’s new.  And you adore it.
Dimitri meets the kids, who all take to him very well.  Especially El, who seems to already be familiar with him.  Likely because of Hopper.  Jonathan and Argyle are being introduced to him by Joyce, while Eddie is rounding the corner with a big stretch and yawn.  Steve shoots him a smirk as the metalhead makes his way over for a big ole bro hug, whispering something to him that makes Steve snort while Eddie grins like a devil.  Steve swats at him playfully, successfully smacking him as Robin walks in with Nancy close behind.  Steve’s quirky platonic soulmate makes her way over to you with a warm smile, swinging an arm over your shoulders so that she’s nearly headlocking you in a hug.  She’s a bit taller than you, by just a couple inches, so it gives her some upper hand.  You’re chuckling lightly, nose scrunched and tightly winding your good arm around Robin’s waist as you smile back at Nancy.  Her eyes are still sad, a bit lost.  But there’s no animosity there, at least not that you see.  She looks at you shyly, timidly…but with utter kindness.
Unbeknownst to you — Robin had suggested to Nancy that she stay with her last night in Steve’s room.  For Nancy, that had been…hard.  Necessary, but hard.  For multiple reasons.  For one thing — the last time she’d slept in Steve’s room, she had been his girlfriend. Being asleep in there 2 years later without him, now as his ex, brought back a flood of memories — bittersweet and haunting.  Being in his bed, twisted up in his sheets, felt wrong.  But she just couldn’t bring herself to sleep next to Jonathan that night.  Not yet.  Not after everything that had unfolded.  So Robin had stayed up talking with her, having a heavy heart to heart.  But it turned out to be exactly what Nancy needed.  Just what the doctor ordered.  Robin Buckley had unintentionally become a nurse of sorts over the last several months, and maybe even somewhat of a therapist.  Although — Argyle sort of had her beat in that department earlier that afternoon.  But he was the much simpler kind.  Whereas Robin got deep, given her innate gift at rambling until you were given no choice but to cut her off because your most honest thoughts were yanked out of you as you were made to listen to her ranting.  Nancy had cried some more, but she’d also laughed.  A comforting mixture of both smiles and frowns were shared between the two unlikely friends.  Robin wasn’t Barb, nor would any other girl be that kind of friend to Nancy.  Robin was very different from Barb.  However, her heart was just as loving.  She loved hard, and it showed.  She let Nancy pour her heart out, pouring some of her own out in return.  And somehow…somehow…it brought Nancy some newfound peace and understanding.
So as she looked at you now, having seen you come downstairs with Steve and the kids — now introducing yourselves to the new Russian house guest, and sharing a special connection with Eddie and Robin in a way that only settled couples so effortlessly did — Nancy could see something in the two of you that she’d not known Steve capable of being while she in a relationship with him.  And while she selfishly ached for her younger self who’d missed out on having that with him (and sometimes still found herself pining after), she selflessly began to feel happy for Steve.  And she even began to feel some happiness for you.  Not completely.  Not yet.  She couldn’t quite commit to making full peace with it all, given that healing takes time.  A very long time.  But as time continued to pass, which Nancy hoped you all would still be granted given the circumstances of the crumbling world, she knew that she would eventually get there.  
Murray and Dimitri were saying something funny, making Hopper and Joyce share a hearty laugh with the two of them while the kids were asking the new gentleman a million questions.  Steve made his way over to you and Robin, hugging you both — and Eddie threw his arms around all of you, resulting in fond groans and grunts from you all along with big smiles.
Nancy and Jonathan made unintentional eye contact as this happened, but Dustin shouting GROUP HUG! snapped their focus away again. The boys all bear hugged you guys while El and Erica were already pouring syrup onto their pancakes.
Eventually, you all sat down to enjoy a feast.  And while it tasted so deliciously sweet…the bitter aftertaste stemmed from looming doom that creeped just beneath the surface of your feet.  The energy shift was still felt, and despite the warmth of homemade pancakes and Steve’s hand on your thigh…your blood ran cold.
***
It was the early afternoon that finally unveiled the darker energy shift you had all been sensing since that morning, after you left the comforting quarters of your little family sleepover.
Everyone was now seated in the living room now — the way you always were, when it was time for you all to have a group meeting and listen to Hopper go over a plan of sorts or give a rundown to the household.  Except this time, Dimitri was here along with Dr. Owens.  It wasn’t like all the other times.  This was different.  Very different.
This one scared you.
Maybe they all should’ve. All these talks that centered around the end of the world. All these household meetings about the impending doom that came with said end-of-the-world. But somehow, you’d grown accustomed to them.  Comfortable.  It meant you were all still alive and that you all had something worth fighting for. And it had always meant there would be another meeting.
But there was an unsettling sort of feeling of finality to this meeting that set it apart from all the others.  And as Hopper stood with both Joyce and your uncle Murray…you felt goosebumps scatter up and down your arms and legs, regardless of Steve’s warm oversized hoodie and your leggings and socks.  Their faces were somber, a bit grim.  Murray kept his arms tightly crossed while Joyce fiddled nervously with her hands.  Even Hopper, ever the strong and firm type, looked nervous.  Maybe even afraid. 
They spoke all slowly, taking their time with why everyone was there — why Dimitri was now in the picture along with Dr. Owens — and what all needed to be discussed.  And the longer they spoke, the thicker the air got.  Tension spread around the room.  It was especially evident as none of the kids were making a sound.  They hadn’t uttered a single word.  Not one of them.  The adults had the floor, and when they asked Dimitri to stand with them, you all knew this was going to go in a bad direction.
So when they all told you the plan, looping Dr. Owens into the picture and why he not only was here for this talk — but here to stay — the gravity of the current situation landed.
You all felt your souls plummet to the deepest depths of your stomachs with a hard thud, as Hopper revealed two large whiteboards.  They both had entirely different detailed layouts…and beside each one, there were two separate lists of names.
One list of names would be at the frontlines.  The people who would be diving head first into the upside down and all of its perils. 
One list of names would be hiding out here.  The people who would maintain home base, helping operate things from the other side in the real world, while risking the chance of being found, caught and killed.
Both sides were at risk.  Both teams could die.  Both groups might not ever live to see another day, or each other, ever again.
As Steve stares at your name, along with the names of all of his kids aside from El, on the opposite whiteboard from his own name…he feels bile rising in his throat.  His stomach twists into knots, deeply tangled with unbearable anxiety and anguish.  His mind races, but his lips don’t move.  Fear paralyzes him, rendering him speechless as the adults keep talking and gesturing to the boards.  The castle on a cloud that his dreams have just began to build for the two of you, walls high and protecting you both along with his kids — his family — was drifting away from him.  And all he could do was watch it drifting further and further away, into the void, as he stared into space.
You felt his grasp on you instinctively tighten as his muscles stiffened.  Steve was rigid against your back, and you were grateful that he couldn’t see your face right now.  You were sitting between his legs on the longest part of his couch, facing the same direction as you took in the whiteboards while absorbing all the information that was being relayed to the group.  With a harsh swallow, you risked peeking at everyone else’s reactions — quickly scanning the room with your eyes.
Mike’s usually sour expression looked far more sad than it usually did.  He only ever looked like that when El was in danger, or things were spiraling out of control.  He sat on top of the coffee table with his elbows in his lap, crouched forward and staring a hole into one of the whiteboards.  Dustin’s mouth was agape, and his unusual silence was loud.  He hadn’t said a word from where he sat on the couch next to Erica.  Will sat on the other side of Jonathan, brow furrowed and heart blue.  He knew the risks being taken, and it hurt his soul seeing that he would be apart from his mom and brother.  He felt as though he always had been, ever since this all began, and it seemed to be a never ending circumstance.  Lucas was taking it all in from his seat on the leg of the couch, hands wrung and expression reserved — but defeated.  He’d really grown into a young man this past year, and he’d been taking so much in stride.  But even so, he looked conflicted.  Really conflicted.  
After taking in the kids’ reactions, your eyes swept over to Robin and Eddie.  She was seated in the giant loveseat, per usual, with Eddie perched on the arm of it.  You narrowed your eyes as you caught sight of Robin fiddling her thumbs, eyes darting up and down from her fingers to the adults with the whiteboards.  Eddie was bouncing his knee anxiously, nibbling at his fingernails — which were already bitten to stubs.  While the two of them looked to be taking this hard, the way that the rest of you were…they also seemed to be absorbing it a bit differently.  As if maybe they had a hunch about it already…
It wasn’t until Erica stood up to sit by Lucas with zero prompt that you felt slightly suspicious.  Because as she did, Robin shot a very quick tight-lipped smile in Erica’s direction with eyes that radiated sympathy.  Did they know this was coming?  Is that why Erica had come upstairs with the cookies and milk later than the rest of the kids?
You sighed through your nose, focusing back on Hopper as he gestured for Dr. Owens to stand up with them.  The older man made his way to the center of the tense room, hands dug deeply into his pockets and wearing a very sympathetic smile.
“I’m really grateful you all have put a lot of faith in me, despite everything,” he said humbly.  “Truthfully, it’s not owed.  I know that.  Still…I promise you’re in good hands with me.  Not those guys out there.  Hence why I’m here.  And I know you’d have already figured out by now if I was still working for that side of things.  Between El and Will, and all of you crazy smart folks, I’m outnumbered.”
He added a light chuckle at the end that nobody returned.  Dr. Owens sighed, taking no offense.  He knew this was not going to be taken well.
“I’m in this fight with you,” he said, stronger than how he spoke before.  There was conviction in his tone that he never really used, and it only heightened just how severe things currently were.  “If it were up to me?  None of you would be out there.  I’d be out there on the frontlines.  But…given Max’s comatose state, and Bauman’s heart condition, I know I’m needed here.  Which is just as big a risk that’s being taken out on the battlefield, because we’re staying in Hawkins as the evacuation notice and mandate goes into effect.  The city will be swarmed with government officials who are all behind this.  We’ll be surrounded from all angles.  No one is safe.”
You’re pretty sure that Steve had stopped breathing at this point, and the veins that prominently stuck out from his arms tightly wound around you made your throat close up.  
“I’ll be here to monitor Max, along with Bauman.  I’ve got plenty of medication to help steady the heart arrhythmia, and anything vital needed for a medical emergency — on anyone’s behalf, not just Bauman’s and Mayfield’s.”
“But…what happens if…”
A tight voice made everyone’s heads whip in its direction.  It was Dustin speaking, eyes wide with fear.  He wasn't being his usual cocky, overly confident self.  He looked and sounded genuinely fearful.
“…what happens if we’re caught?  What do we do?  Where do we go?”
Murray sighs, stepping forward.  “We’ve thought about that.  Right now, there’s only 2 options.  But they’re solid.  The best we’ve got right now.  One more than the other.  See, look —”
Murray went into detail about an abort-mission plan, but it sounded distorted in your ears as the gravity of the situation weighed down on top of your shoulders: you were all splitting up.  And this time might be the last time.
At some point, Mike had started to finally come to life.  His snark was returning, but even he wavered and the fear in his voice wasn’t concealed.  Hopper and El had to level with him, which only flustered Mike and caused him to stutter.  They had him beat, and he knew it.  He wanted to storm off, but Erica had told him to sit his ass down and listen.  It was so unexpected that he did as she said.  But your own brain was playing it all in slow motion.  As Will began asking questions with Dustin, you could see how Lucas had looked like he wanted to ask Erica if she might have already known something — but he didn’t.  Dr. Owens was saying something about Will being tied to the other side of things and being the assigned “El” of their group opposite of her, which fired up Mike as he demanded to know why the hell that required him to be out of the group heading to the frontlines alongside his girlfriend.  Before Hopper could even respond, Eddie was jumping into action along with Jonathan — coming to the retired cop’s defense.  That only bewildered Mike more, which fueled Dustin’s confusion into high gear as he made arguments alongside Mike.  Lucas had thrown his voice into the mix, but when Erica’s was louder — telling them all to listen, for the love of god listen, and Lucas stared at her in silent bemusement.  Will was weakly pleading with them all to please calm down, along with Joyce, who shot Argyle (of all people) a desperate look, and he made his way over to sit down next to Will and tell him it was going to be alright.
“NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS ALRIGHT,” Mike cried, angry and sad and scared in the way a child made to grow up too soon has every right to be.
“Mike, please,” Nancy’s voice trembled, her blue eyes glassy.
“Nancy, this isn’t okay!!!” Mike wailed.
“M-Mike,” Nancy stammered, her own emotions giving her a shake she couldn’t stop.  “Just l-listen to me…”
“No, you never listen to me!!!” Mike bawled.  “Never!!!”
“Hey hey, Wheeler, hey.”  
Steve finally found his voice as he reluctantly made his way to stand up away from you and approach his kid that was having an absolute breakdown.  Mike was still wailing, but as Steve approached with an unwavering look in his eye — baby Wheeler allowed for the group's assigned babysitter to actually place his hands on his shoulders and try to level with him.  Mike’s face crumbled, his words not making any sense the more he stumbled over them.  All that could be made out was something he was trying to say towards El — something about why and how could you and tell them I’m coming — which made Steve get a firm grip on his shoulders as he told him not to blame her for this.  After all, Steve had all the experience in the world as far as wrongfully placing blame on someone else was concerned…and it made your entire body ache as you watched him soothe Mike, who just bawled and mumbled nonsense in his hold.
El began to cry, too, leaning into Hopper — whose bottom lip trembled.  He bit down on it hard and willed it to stop, his eyes overwhelmed with everything that was unraveling before his eyes. 
Dustin was going back and forth with Erica, but he sounded so pitiful it made your uneven heart crack.  He kept looking over at Steve, begging him to understand.  Please Steve, please, let me go with you.  Eddie moved to immediately hold him, crushing him in more of a death grip than a hug.  The metalhead mumbled into his curly hair — not this time, kiddo, not this time.  Robin had a hand clamped over her mouth, emotions taking over as she barely managed to bite them back.
You stood up instantly, moving to hold Buckley.  She didn’t hesitate to make room for you on the seat, letting you take her in your arms as she shook like a leaf.  You gently swayed her side to side with you, murmuring quiet little words that were meant to be comforting — knowing they weren’t, but offering them anyway.
Your eyes met Jonathan’s across the room as he swayed with Will as well.  His pupils were blown, consumed with dread and drowning in pure misery, and you knew that yours weren’t much different.
Mike had buried his face into Steve’s chest at this point, and it made Nancy cry into her own palms as she curled in on herself.  
“I can’t do this,” she whispered, voice cracking at the end.  She looked at Hopper and your uncle, eyes guilty and full of shame.  “I - I’m sorry.”
Before you could even process what just happened, Nancy was barreling up the stairs.  Jonathan watched her go, panicking.  He looked at Will, then at you — eyes pleading.  You didn’t even let a second pass before you’d squeezed Robin to signal her, standing up to bring her over to where Will was seated.  You took Jonathan’s place as he went after Nancy, holding him tight as Robin leaned against you on your opposite side.  Argyle kept a kind hand on Will’s shoulder, still sitting to the other of him.  
“Steve, please, you die I die, remember?”
Dustin’s whimpered words had to have been the saddest plea you’d ever heard in your life.  Steve almost broke but before he could he flung an arm to sweep Dustin into his hold, as baby Wheeler kept bawling into his chest.  He held them both steady, letting them fall apart in his protective arms and doing everything in his power not to break down with them.  He couldn’t.  If he did, he’d failed them.  But to Steve’s dismay…he did anyway.  He ducked his head down, shaking against the two of his kids, letting himself silently weep with them.  For them. 
Lucas looked utterly heartbroken, which Erica noticed.  The youngest Sinclair cast aside all her pride, looking at her older brother with the most sympathy and love she could have towards anyone in this world, and she threw her arms around him.  He only let it shock him for a second before he held her back, a grateful silence falling over them both.  
You felt tears of your own begin to brim your eyes, but before letting them fall you looked up towards the adults…seeing your uncle first.  Murray looked back at you with every ounce of empathy and solace that could be found inside his dark soul. 
You gave him a soft nod, silently communicating with him.  I understand.  I’m sorry you had to deliver this news, but I’m here and I understand. 
And he returned the soft nod, lips pressed into a thin line but communicating back through eye contact and body language.  I love you and I hate this.  But I’ve got you.
Dimitri stood next to him, eyes somber and downcast.  He was new to the picture, but having seen the other side of things and just how bad a toll this has clearly taken on you all — he mourned for everyone’s pain. 
Dr. Owens had to sit down, unable to speak and wringing his hands.  
Hopper and Joyce held each other, along with El.  They looked at each other, devastated but steadfast.  
This plan was not open for discussion.  
This plan was not open for debate.  
This plan was final.
And so you let the tears crawl over the edges of your eyes, feeling them skate down your cheeks as you clung to Will and Robin and felt the world sit on top of your shoulders.
***
-- so as you can see, shit's getting intense. the gut-wrenching angst approaching has me overwhelmed but I'm so sickeningly happy about it. suffice it to say, Steve & Bauman are my Roman Empire and they are endgame. so if that gives you any sort of hope, given the inevitable doom that is in store for them and everyone else involved...then yay.
<3 this story forever lives on. forever and ever amen. - misha
TAGLIST (ILYSM) If I forgot you or you wanna be added, lmk :)
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nightgoodomens · 6 months
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I’ve had this idea to use in fanfiction but I’ve been kind of thinking about it in a way it could work in the show too (not that I think it will but hey want some angst?)
Bentley is everything to Crowley right. The only thing he has left at this stage and it’s his home too.
Metatron clearly wants Aziraphale and Crowley separated, he clearly has something against Crowley because of the right ugly look he gives him and worries if he remembers him.
Imagine Aziraphale who keeps on talking about Crowley because he misses him so badly and it’s driving Metatron insane. He needs Crowley to disappear for good, otherwise Aziraphale will not let him go.
Imagine Maggie is actually an angel helping Metatron.
So Metatron comes up with a plan. Now, he thinks the worst of Crowley (because he’s behind his fall and he needs to believe he deserved it, but actually he’s simply a bastard who hated someone better than him) so the plan, in his mind, will either have the result of Crowley dying or going full evil. Either way, Aziraphale will fully reject him.
Maggie’s job is to invite Crowley for a coffee. Crowley drives over, parks further away because he doesn’t want it close to the bookshop, starts walking away.
The idea is that someone drops a holy water bomb under the Bentley. It explodes, Crowley loses his beloved Bentley and home, knows it’s Heaven because of the Holy Water that hopefully will hurt him too, and in Metatron’s mind he loses his shit and joins Hell against Heaven. Result = Aziraphale’s heart breaks and he lets him go.
Or even better, Metatron hopes, that he will notice they’re putting something under the car and goes back close enough that it kills him. Aziraphale loses him and hopefully his own mind so he’s easy to control.
But it’s not what happens.
When Maggie smiles brightly to welcome him, as he’s making his way from where he parked over the road, it’s Nina who walks out too and waves to him - and notices someone running to put something under his car so she shouts for that person to leave the car alone.
Crowley turns immediately and makes his way back, Nina following him. The car explodes, Crowley is luckily not close enough to be killed, but he gets hit by the power of the explosion, gets thrown right against the building. Nina who was farther away just gets pushed away.
She and other people rush to Crowley, and to Maggie’s surprise, while he is clearly in shock and needs a moment of them to sit him up and Nina to talk to him until he finally focuses on her and his mind clears… Maggie can see that he’s soaked in Holy Water which is doing absolutely nothing to him.
Crowley doesn’t realise it’s Holy Water, his eyes are on his Bentley, his home, and he chokes no… and Nina with others need to hold him down because he tries to run to it.
Someone shouts to call an ambulance, Maggie clearly wipes those ideas from their heads, Crowley is in too much shock to think clearly and do it himself. Muriel runs over shocked, her and Nina drag Crowley to the bookshop where they try to calm him down because he’s shaking and they wipe the dirt from his face, try to dry him up with towels, and actually hold him tightly until he stops shaking.
Maggie reports what happened to Metatron. Crowley has nothing now. Metatron hopes the next step is Crowley losing it. He doesn’t understand why Holy Water didn’t work but then it didn’t before so clearly that wasn’t a fabricated story.
What Metatron doesn’t know is that Crowley is now really immune because… he kissed an Angel. A certain angel who’s in love with him and without knowing gave him such protection.
What Metatron doesn’t know either is that Aziraphale has kept in touch with Muriel to hear about the Bookshop and most of all about Crowley.
He also doesn’t know that Crowley and Aziraphale are so close that Aziraphale would feel if something terrible happened to Crowley. And he definitely felt the pain of Crowley getting hurt and losing his Bentley. It nearly tore Aziraphale’s heart apart.
He doesn’t know that Aziraphale gets in touch with Muriel immediately and she tells him about the bomb. Of course Aziraphale is still foolish enough to think that it was Hell’s work. Muriel didn’t know about the Holy Water.
But Aziraphale, in rage, goes to see it happening as Heaven records everything. He finds the video. He recognises the angel who puts the bomb under Crowley’s Bentley. He can’t believe it. He digs deeper and finds out that Metatron ordered the Holy Water Bomb.
He holds the picture of Bentley on fire, and Crowley, devastated, held to the ground by humans, protected by humans, so he doesn’t end up hurt even more.
And this is how Metatron loses Aziraphale completely.
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rollercoasterwords · 2 years
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hey guys btw there is actually never a good reason to loudly and publicly talk about how much u dislike a fanfic!! Like. let's break this down for a sec:
i don't like it
ok, understandable. i've dnf'd lots of fics because i didn't like them. but the people writing fanfiction are doing it for free and for fun, and you don't know anything about their lives. they could be a young writer just starting out! they could be an older writer getting back into writing after years of being unable to! they could be someone going through a rough patch whose only source of joy right now is writing their silly little stories! talking about how much you dislike a fanfic literally does nothing except hurt the person writing it. that's it. it is not productive, it is not necessary. even strangers on the internet deserve basic human empathy.
ok but i really don't like it
babe, i feel u! i'm a hater too. rant about it privately. shit on it in private messages or group chats with friends. u can dislike something without dragging its creator into the town square to throw tomatoes at them, yknow?
ok but i really don't like it AND it's popular
ok? shouting about that on the internet doesn't make you cool or special or unique. it just makes you kind of mean and, honestly, bitter. like i said before, this is fanfiction. nobody is paying for it. nobody is profiting. there is no standard that these writers are obligated to meet. clearly, other people like the work. why not let them enjoy it in peace?
no u don't understand it doesn't deserve to be popular there are better fics that deserve it more!!!
talk about those fics then!! post about how much u love them!! uplift those writers!! ur tweet or tiktok or tumblr post is not going to suddenly make a popular fic lose all popularity, no matter how undeserving u perceive it to be. if this is actually coming from a place of frustration because you feel like there are other fics that deserve more attention, then just give those fics attention.
no but it's problematic
mmm ok. let's sit with this one for a second. i want you to ask yourself--is it really, really problematic? is it perpetuating harm against a marginalized group? remember, this is fanfic; it is outside the consumer economy, and the stories it tells will almost never make it to a mainstream audience. so is the story actually hurting people, or is the author just exploring something that you're uncomfortable with? because if you're just uncomfortable, then assuming the work is tagged properly, the best course of action is to just click away. as uncomfortable as it may be, people are allowed to write stories that you might find upsetting or gross or weird, and those stories existing is not inherently harmful in and of itself.
it is actively reinforcing harmful stereotypes/rhetoric/etc
okay! ok. if you are deeply concerned because you feel that this fic is genuinely harmful, then go to the writer. leave a comment. send them a message on tumblr or twitter or tiktok or wherever. explain your situation and see what they say! nine times out of ten, i'd bet that an ao3 writer means no harm and would be willing to listen and address your concerns. in fact, they might even be grateful to you for being kind enough to make them aware of a problem and educate them on it. every ao3 writer i've ever spoken to is an incredibly kind and thoughtful person; you don't need to immediately go on the attack
the writer is unreachable/nonresponsive/not willing to address or change the problematic thing
alright. if you truly feel that this fanfiction is actively harmful and can't reach any kind of conclusion with the writer, and you want to warn others who might read the fic, then do that. do that. make a post that says hey guys btw, x thing in this fic is not a good representation/perpetuates a harmful stereotype/whatever the problem is. and leave it at that! you don't need to go further and insult the writing or the person who wrote it. that is helpful to exactly no one, and if your goal is actually to make the world a better place, then you should learn how to draw attention to an issue in a way that encourages actual dialogue instead of dog-piling and personal attacks.
anyway the next time you feel the desire to post about how bad you think a fic is, feel free to use this as a guide before u do! xoxo
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