#Some of them just don't occupy my brain as much!

[illdiealonelyguy]

Apartment Story (Spencer Reid x BAU!reader)

We'll stay inside till somebody finds us, do what ever the tv tells us, stay inside our rosy minded fuzz.

My first time writing something like this, and i'm sure its not very good and there's room for sooooo much improvement, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Summary: You've reached the groggy, grey winter months where nothing much usually happens, but this year is a little different. This year, you have Spencer Reid by your side. To combat the post-christmas blues and make some use of the last remaining weeks before you both head back to your desks at the BAU, Spencer attempts to find solutions for you both to remain as calm and content as you possibly can.

Tags: Spencer Reid x BAU!reader, fluff.

Word Count: roughly 789

You were roused by the sound of shuffling sheets beside you,and a temporary loss of warmth, before an arm reached itself under your side of the bedsheets to the small of your back. Eyes still heavy and closed, you nuzzled back towards the main source of heat - your own personal central heating system: Dr. Spencer Reid. Gently, you opened your eyes, head still resting against his chest, and peered up to be welcomed by his adoring smile.

"Good morning," Spencer whispered as he kissed the top of your head.

"Morning," you croaked, still squashed against his body, your breath against his neck making him giggle.

You open your eyes wider, this time gauging an impression of today's weather: grey and wet. just like everyday since the start of November, it seemed. This specific state of the weather was sure to weigh heavy on your heart until the end of March, when things would start to brighten up and look more alive.

"Hey, what's gotten you looking so somber?" Spencer inquired while turning your head towards him with his hand on your cheek.

"The weather! i just feel so trapped in such a monotone season. Eveything looks like it's been stripped of life," you lament into his caring eyes, a hint of worry working it's way into them. "You make me feel better, though. I remember once telling you that i think i chase the sun. It makes me feel far more alive and productive and full of ideas. Anyway, i came to the conclusion that you are my sun. Just being around you is enough to, for a while, help me forget about how much the winter months tend to weigh on me. So, thank you for that." You smile up at him while a faint flush settles over his cheeks, clearly bashful at such a - as he would put it - poetic metaphor.

"You're thanking me for being myself?" he chuckles.

"I suppose i am," you affirmed, leaning in to kiss him. He replied with a hum as he kissed you back, contentedly.

---------------------------------

You both spent your morning cuddling, reading and drinking tea (well, coffee for Spencer) and after the afternoon hit it's peak, the daylight seemed to be sucked away too fast for your liking.

Returning from the kitchen with two cups of tea occupying both of his hands (Spencer's new year resolution to only drink coffee in the mornings for a better night's sleep seemed to be going well, you thought) Spencer padded towards you in his fuzzy-sock clad feet, sitting beside you on the sofa and turning to you, thoughtfully.

"I think we should buy you a SAD lamp. Oh, and also stock up on puzzles, sudoku books, crosswords and other activities which will stimulate both of our brains. Well, I of course tend to these activities more than you- there's nothing wrong with that by the way! You enjoy more creative hobbies and i logical ones, but we could build puzzles together as i'm very, very bad at creative activities. Oh! I could also run to the pharmacy and get some vitamin c tablets. They'll be good for us to take in the winter," Spencer offers in a breathless frenzy.

You chuckle at his despiration "Are you still thinking about what i said earlier? Spencer, it's common to feel slightly more down in the winter months, i don't want you worrying about me too much!" you reply with a comforting smile, reaching out to take his hand in yours, squeezing it a few times as if to physically transmit your words into him.

"I know, i know. I just care about you so much and i'de hate for you to feel the weight of the shorter days wearing you down. I feel less motivated this time of year, too. But - not to steal your beautiful metaphor here - i think you might me my sun, too. Sunlight increases the production of sterotonin which helps improve mood and promote feelings of happiness, and spending time in the sunlight can reduce levels of cortisol in the body. You have the same affect on me."

"The science in your metaphor made that sound far more romantic," you giggle as you consider his words, Spencer gazing at you lovingly. "I think we will survive, love. We've got eachother, and our books, and yes if you like you can buy a bunch of brain stimulating puzzles," Spencer gazes downward shyly at your words.

"I think we've got an arsenal of things within ourselves to battle the winter blues away. Especially eachother." You end with, softly.

Leaning towards you, Spencer takes you in his arms. "I think you might be right." He mutters into the soft material of your shirt, holding you tightly.

[itz-pandora]

Who's your favorite charcter of all time?

And don't you dare say shadow

OF ALL TIME??? Oh goodness....

too broad a question tbh, I have a lot of blorbos but they're incomparable

[torchickentacos]

I hate it when my chronic illnesses are chronic and my disabilities are disabling and my seasonal affective disorder is seasonally affecting me

[nabhx]

......Are NONE of them blond anymore?? That's not a casting complaint or anything as much as it is a costuming thing- But just something about going from four out of the six being blond to ZERO is so funny to me help 💀💀 y'all were too blond so now NOBODY gets a turn, you can have your blond back when you've learned your lesson ☝🗣

((Post with the images I'm talking about right here, I didn't want to bother the op with this gchjjbh))

[aenslem]

can we just take a moment and appreciate the fact that young puts the weapon down to use his fists, it needs to be physical for him, he needs to feel rush when he hurts him, and I love it, I am here for this, I am here for these two being wild about each other, it's just beautiful

if he wanted to kill rush, he would just shoot him, he does not want to kill him like 'kill him', but he wants to beat him so much, he wants to feel rush's life in his hands, that way he can have some control over whatever they have going on between each other, this 'need to beat you' mode is so good, I absolutely enjoy it

yeah, there are better things to enjoy in life than watching how two idiots on screen would fight, but there are some sports where people pay to watch those things, I just chose to enjoy it between a space drama, mostly caused by one of the jerks above

I am trying to imagine what their relationship would be like if the show was not cancelled, and they did become more, um, 'friendly' I guess I can call it friendly, less physical, which obviously sucks for me, I enjoy them getting physical. I think even when they are on good terms young would not be able to not be aggressive with rush in some ways. it would not be life threatening like in this scene, and rush would know it, but their arguments would be heated, and I think young would use his strength, maybe pushing rush to a wall a little too hard, stopping him by holding his arm a little too hard, I think whenever young would realize he is losing an argument he would try to get into rush's personal space, it's the way he shows his strength, he can't win with his mind, but he can win by force. he knows it, but also, I think he would not do it intentionally all the time, with rush it's always unintentional, heated and brought to the point where you can't control yourself and you give into it and act on impulse.

I think it would start with less and less aggression in fight, and more enjoy outdoing\outsmarting the other one. like playing a chess, like, you can be smart as rush and win, but you also need to be a good strategist, so young does have something to offer here, he can challenge rush, and I think he has the chance to win a game. so they would be around each other as if they play a chess. the more they would play this game the more they would want to win, they would make the other one learn some new tricks to win, I think they would make each other better by learning thing or two from one another, and by the end of the show they would actually enjoy having an argument, having a talk, maybe one day they would just talk, you know, like normal people, and it would not end up with one accusing the other one in sabotaging something, or lying, or whatever.

rush just crawling away, and young trying so hard to not finish what he started, you can see he wants to beat him more, but he is tired of this as well. have you seen a man who is so tired by trying so hard to not kill smb? love it

they are trying so hard to control things, but they can't even control themselves

as if it is not about control and power for you, man. when he offers rush to work together in 'darkness' he looses his shit and the talk goes the wrong way, just because young wanted rush to report to him, not him consulting his actions with rush. you want to control this man, but he is like a force of nature, you both are like two hurricanes meeting at some point and you either collide and become even more dangerous together or destroy each other and everything around you.

oh, and let's appreciate this screencap here, idk, I just love it, because I love men suffering, also robert carlyle has pretty hands there

he ain't wrong here. young does something on impulse and then regrets, he can be calm and strategic, but when it comes to something he cannot control, something like rush, he is all about emotions, bringing out the worst in him, and causing to act based on impulse rather than thinking about his actions through, he does it after, and it usually ends with regret, as we saw in 'justice'. yay my fav part <3

anyway, idk where I was going with this but here we are

oh and you know what I love about young? he is a man of force, using fists instead of words, but he actually listens if you talk to him, and even if he does not always understand it he tries and is not opposed to explore something new and learn and stay on an ancient ship with 10 more people and the man who framed him for murder just to find out what lies beyond it all. you may say it's because he feels responsible for those people, and yes, he does, but I also like to think that it's not just responsibility, but young just wanting to go to unknown places to see wonders of the universe.

[huh-i-guess]

Paloma

(Captain John Price x F!Reader)

Summary: You all go to a club after a mission in Mexico and your drunken words have a sobering impact on your captain.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, daddy kink, embarrassingly drunk reader (no sex while she's drunk), spanking, choking, authority kink (?), age gap, unprotected sex, price gets nassssty

Word Count: ~ 6.3k

(Reader's callsign is Pepper)

I don't own MW2, the characters, or the gif above.

“Pepper. We’re waiting on you. What’s taking so long?” Simon gruffly inquired from the bottom of the stairs. “y/n what are you wearing?” He examined as he questioned your choice of club attire.

“A dress. Duh?” You deadpanned.

“WOAH.” Some of the guys gasped as you walked down the stairs.

“Steamin’ Jesus. Where’ve you been hiding these things?” Soap quipped.   

“You guys are acting like you've never seen me in civies before. They are just legs, come on. Leave me alone suds.” You swatted at the Scotsman that poked at your thighs.

“Pepper. I’ve seen you in civies before but not in a dress. Not this dress” Soap stated while his lips quired into a sly grin. 

“Yeah, I can't say I have either. You look beautiful though.” Gaz affirmed to your left.

“Thanks, Gaz.” You tilted your head in appreciation. Alejandro and Rudy walked in from the kitchen. Ale’s face brightened as he took in your appearance.

“¡Qué hermosa mi amor pero eso no es nuevo para ti!” Alejandro winked at you.  

“¡Gracias Ale!” You smiled as your face flushed with warmth. 

“You look gorgeous, sweet girl.” You looked over to the bench where your captain sat.

“Thank you, Captain.'' You smirked at Price's compliment as you watched his eyes rake down your body. Something about Price stirred things deep inside of you. Like a primal need. A want. A craving. But he’s your commanding officer so that’s all that he can ever be.

 A want. 

You fought the urge to clench your thighs together at his heavy gaze. His baby blues met yours and you felt yourself to suppress a shiver. Get it together.

“Okay let's go before they close the doors on us huh.” You cleared your throat and made your way to the door. 

~~~

You had just finished a massive bust and the team wanted to chill for a bit so you recommended clubbing. Did you recommend this because you miss shaking your ass and wanted to get drunk? Yes. Yes you did. You could only deal with so much testosterone for so long. It wasn’t like you hated being around the guys, you loved them, it was just that you sort of missed the thrill of getting hit on and it actually leading somewhere. The guys flirted with you all the time but it never went anywhere because at this point you were all family. It wasn’t even flirting anymore, it was like getting a compliment from a drunk aunt. 

You missed when flirting had an edge. When it led to you going home with someone and riding them till the sun came up. Some small part of you missed being treated like a girl. You appreciated that the guys saw you as one of them but at some point you have to remember that you have needs… parts you have to have filled. 

Price treated you the same as all of the guys and part of you appreciated it but his “flirting” always had a different air to it. Like he wasn’t trying to rile you up or ruffle your feathers. It was like he wanted you to hear everything he said and take it to heart. Like he meant it. Clubbing could also serve as a distraction from your feelings about the man. It wasn’t fair that he could occupy so much space in your brain. 

So you styled your hair, put on a face, slipped on a cute but always comfortable pair of heels, and a dress that damn near guarantees you’ll get laid. And made your decision to kick back and take your mind off of Price.

~~~

“So… Can I get drunk tonight?” You looked at Price for an answer and batted your mascara covered lashes.

“Why are you looking at me? You’re a grown woman and you don’t need my permission to do things.” Price rasped avoiding eye contact as he gripped the wheel. 

“Okay cool. So then you don't have a problem with me going home with someone tonight?” You probed watching as his hand white knuckle gripped the steering wheel. The men behind you fighting to hold in giggles knowing their captain’s feelings for you that he has yet to admit.

“Now why would I have a problem with that, Pepper?” Sounds like he has a problem with it, you thought. You chuckled and looked out of the window as you watched the stone fences eventually turn to trees. Alejandro’s car in front of you eventually came to a stop outside of the club. All of you regrouped at the door and made your way in. It always felt a little weird being one woman walking in with a gaggle of 6 men on your tail but you’ve been in weirder situations. You grabbed a booth on the far side of the club. Making sure to have easy, clear views of all of the exits. 

“Okay. I'm going to the bar to have a drink. Please don't come over unless you need something. You guys have a tendency to scare… people away.” You laughed and winked as you made your way to the bar. You spotted a handsome man who appeared to be having a drink with his friends and you knew you had to get his name. 

“The huntress is on the prowl, Price. You gonna do anything about that tonight?” Soap questioned his captain with a low whistle.

“Soap. I have no clue what you are talking about.” Price denies.

“Ay dios mio. Captain, you play the fool so well. We all know how you feel about her and I think she knows too. We are in Mexíco. My people do not play when it comes to beautiful women.” Alejandro began as he lifted himself from the booth. “I saw at least four others whose jaws dropped when she walked in. You will miss your chance with her here if you keep being shy.” Alejandro chipped with more bravery than his brothers at the table before he patted Price on the back and made his way over to a beautiful woman he had locked eyes with the moment he stepped foot in the club. 

After a while you got bored of the man you were talking to. He was a beautiful man but lacked any depth and honestly didn't seem like he could do any of the things you need a man to do. You stayed up at the bar and turned back to look at your group's table. Almost all of your group had been dispersed throughout the club. The only ones left at the table were Price and Rodolfo. They seemed to be deep in conversation and enjoying themselves so you smiled and headed to the dance floor. 

You found a group of girls to dance with that seemed to be having a good time and you asked if you could join their group just to dance for a bit and were welcomed with open arms and kisses brought to your face. You missed being like this. It's been ages since you hung out with a group solely made up of women. You quickly learned their names and where they were from. They were from all over the world and just spent time traveling together across the world as a group. The group was composed of some of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen and you felt great being accepted into their group. Mara was from Brazil, Tati from Puerto Rico and a number of other girls from a variety of countries. Tati had been eyeing Gaz all night and you knew that they’d hit it off deciding to introduce them later in the night. Your priority at the moment was dancing and having a good time.

Although you were in a Mexican club, they played all kinds of Latin Music and even random hints of American Music. Anything that you could move to, you moved to. From Destiny’s Child to Bad Bunny to Kali Uchis to artists you’d never heard of. You and Mara had been platonically grinding on each other for a major portion of the night. Your hips had minds of their own and moved any which way. Your system was flooded with an indiscriminate number of margaritas and palomas so you felt like you were on cloud nine. Your hips hadn’t stopped moving even as you felt a pair of eyes on you. The heat of the gaze could only belong to one man in this club. 

 You looked back to the table and locked eyes with Price. You smiled, felt a wave of confidence, and blew him a kiss before you turned back to Mara, Tati and the others.  La Romana by Bad Bunny and El Alfa came on and you all were locked in place on the dance floor. The tequila from the drinks you downed had you feeling like the only thing that mattered in the world was dancing to this song with these girls that you quite literally just met.

 You and the girls danced to the song as if you were the only people on the floor. Tati started rapping El Alfa’s part as all of the inhibitions exited your body. You couldn’t even call it dancing anymore because at this point it was just cheering as the gorgeous woman next to you rattled off in Spanish. By the time the song ended and you were out of breath and drenched in sweat. You raised your voice over the music as you drew the girls in and let them know that you had to take a break. You were met with a number of hugs and kisses to your cheeks as you turned to slip from the crowd. You decided to stop at the bar for another drink and turned back to the table. The liquor coursing through you made it feel like you were floating as you made your way back over to the table with your fruity cocktail in hand. 

Price’s eyes followed each step that you took and he stared at you with a burning gaze. The heat of his stare felt like a rope as the intensity pulled you closer and closer to him. You eventually closed the distance between the two of you and plopped down next to him. You were most definitely invading his personal space, but he just sat with the slightest smirk on his lips. 

“You look like you’re having fun out there, sweet girl.” He said as bumped his shoulder into yours. Your mouth was moving before your brain could even formulate a response. You never really did kick the habit of rambling when you got drunk. That little fact about you and Price’s watchful eyes had you loose. Absolutely no control over your body or your mouth, so you rambled. 

“I would be having so much more fun out there with you, daddy. Those girls are so sweet though. Mara and Tati and I think someone named Olivia. I can't really remember but I think Tati and Gaz would be so cute together.” You leaned into Price and lovingly looked into his baby blues. For some reason you grabbed his hand. “I haven’t danced like that in so long. Did you see my hips? It was like they had a mind of their own. Feel like I'm gonna be sore in the morning. Ugh, Daddy you should’ve joined me out there. Wanted to feel you behind me. Grabbing my hips and guiding them. Might’ve even put your hand on my throat and let you choke me a little.” The filth slipped from your mouth with a giggle and you hadn’t even realized the gravity of the comments you'd been making. You’d called him “daddy” twice. Not once but twice. 

Price stared at you dumbfounded. He felt his dick twitch in his trousers. Of course he’d been watching you from the moment you left the table to the moment you set foot on the dancefloor. He watched you meet the girls, open your arms, and be welcomed with kisses and giggles. Watching the interaction had him feeling things. His mind told him was too old for you. It told him that he was old enough to be your father and he already was your superior.

He’d watched you play with the lad at the bar who hadn’t even realized how out of his league you were. Price’s mind told him that you have all of these young men at your disposal. The doubts about his age flooded his mind. Why would you want him? You deserve someone who can keep up with you. Someone young and energetic.

His doubts were put on the back burner when you blew that kiss to him. He felt his heart flutter in his chest. When you damn near skipped over to him his heart was replaced by a warmth. When you called him “daddy” his cock stood at attention and his doubts had flown far from his mind. 

“Sweet girl, how many have you had tonight?” He groaned. 

“Like 4 shots of tequila and a few palomas? Have you had one yet? I think it's the national drink of Mexico or something like that” You chirped. 

“You know that I won't enjoy that. Barely enjoying this sorry excuse of a whiskey.” You pushed the cocktail over to him. 

“Please just give it a try for me, daddy? I tried that scotch the other night and I almost passed out from how strong it was.” Price let out a long sigh and looked into your eyes as he grabbed your glass and took a sip of the grapefruit cocktail. The smile plastered on your face was enough to melt his heart. He felt the cold liquid hit his tongue and was immediately hit with the sweet tang of grapefruit and the light punch of tequila. He would never admit it, but he actually enjoyed the slight tangy and sweetness of the drink. He faked a grimace and placed your glass back on the napkin. 

“Happy, love?” You giggled in his ear and kissed his cheek. Your brain hadn’t even registered what you’d called him just a moment ago. His eyes met yours.  “y/n, I don't want you going home with anyone tonight.” Price stated with a serious tone. He almost sounded how he did when you went on missions and he’d used your real name. Not your call sign or a term of endearment. 

“Daddy, don’t be so serious, I wasn’t planning on it.” You leaned into his ear as the words flowed from your lips, sweet and syrup-like. “ I just wanted to look pretty for you. Maybe sit on your lap and dance a little but you can be so stubborn.” Price turned his head and looked at you with wide eyes. Full of lust but also full of shock at your gall. 

“Love, I think I should take you home. You’ve had quite a lot tonight.” You leaned into him and pressed a giggly kiss to his cheek. 

“Only because it's you, okay. You really don't want to dance with me. Not even one song?” You practically begged as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

“Let's see if you can even stand up on your own, Love.” 

“Of course I can.” You stood up and felt like the world had left you behind as wobbled on shaky feet. 

“Mhm. Let's go home.” Price affirmed and you frowned, but immediately thought of Tati and Gaz.

“Wait. Tati and Gaz. They need to know each other. Let me introduce them, please daddy.” With a long sigh that was meant to calm himself, he nodded and let you drag him to the dance floor. Of course you had hopes of playing matchmaker tonight. He chuckled a little at the fact that you always had the best interest of the team at heart. 

When you spotted Tati, she looked at you, and then at the 6'2 man planted firmly behind you. Her smiling face began to reflect one of concern as a frown crossed her stunning features. She tried to convince you to stay with her to make sure you weren't being taken advantage of in your state of intoxication. You felt your heart warm at the act of consideration, but let her know that you know him, trust him, and love him. Loud enough for him and everyone around you to hear over the music. His eyes widened and his face immediately flushed into a shade of deep red. He cleared his throat and grabbed your phone. He asked for the girl's number while you leaned on him and looked at him like he roped the moon out of the sky for you. He’d definitely remember the dopey love struck look that was painted on your face. 

He let you take Tati over to Gaz. Gaz, Soap, and Simon had been planted at the bar drinking and laughing with each other before you tapped Kyle on the shoulder. He turned around and was met with the sight of you, very much inebriated and giggly, arm intertwined with Price’s as you leaned onto him while holding onto Tati’s hand. Kyle and the others were glad to see you clinging onto Price and watched the interaction in fascination. 

“Kyle. Tati. Handsome man meet stunning woman.” You hummed while pushing Tati toward Kyle, feeling satisfied with your matchmaking skills. “Daddy, let's go home.” You looked up at Price. Soap’s mouth dropped open as soon as the word slipped from your mouth but quickly clamped it shut as he locked eyes with his ever serious captain. Simon just shook his head, not completely in disbelief at your comment, but more in amusement that you’d been drunk enough to say something like that in front of the others. Gaz’s eyes widened because he definitely heard you call your captain, daddy, but he threw on a smooth grin as he looked over to the beautiful woman that you brought along with you. He was torn between clowning you for your kinky admission or letting it slide. He ultimately decided to put it on the back burner as the gorgeous woman locked eyes with his. You whipped your body around and stumbled your way toward the door. 

Price basically carried you to the car. He was supporting most of your body weight with his as he chuckled while navigating the two of you through the gravel filled parking lot. The pair of you reached the Black SUV and Price swept you into his arms as he opened the car door. 

“In we go, love.” As he situated you securely in the passenger seat. Just as he was about to close the door you slurred out a “wait.”

“What do you need, sweet girl?”

“I’m sorry for being like this, daddy. I just wanted to have fun. I didn’t mean to be a burden.” He chuckled and brought your hand up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your hand.

“You’re not a burden, love. You just had a bit too much to drink. It happens. As long as you had fun, I really don’t mind it.”

“God,” you said with a sigh, “You’re so hot. Can we have sex?” The warmth returned to his face at the admission. He had no intentions of doing anything with you tonight except maybe brushing your teeth and tucking you into bed. He sighed with a soft smile and closed the door. 

“You truly are something special.” He said into the nothingness as he walked around the car.

The rest of the night was a blur for you but all you remember was Price carrying you back into the safe house then lying in the soft covers of a bed and finally drifting out of consciousness.

Price sat next to you in bed and watched your sleeping figure as your soft snores filled his ears. When he was satisfied with the amount of breaths that fell from your lips, he lowered himself into the sheets next to you and lost his own battle with consciousness. 

--- --- ---

When you awoke, you were met with the sight of an empty bed and the sun shining through the flowing curtains. You looked over to the on-suite and saw your burly captain brushing his teeth at the sink. You released a content sigh as you turned onto your side. You felt yourself being pulled back into the warm embrace of sleep but as soon as you were at the cusp of consciousness, you felt the bed dip next to you. You kept your eyes closed but felt your captain just sitting there. You heard his breaths as he sat motionless next to you. The air grew tense as a beat of silence passed. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel the heat of his gaze. Was he just staring at you? Was he going to say anything? 

“What are you doing?” You probed, anticipating a gruff response.

No reply and then a long, heady sigh. 

You started to turn your head until you felt a warm, firm body press against your back. Price’s body molded into yours as he reached around your front to find the hand that rested on the sheets. His hand found yours and you gawked at the difference in size. His hand engulfed yours in a warm embrace as he gave it a soft squeeze. His face nuzzled into the nape of your neck as he filled his lungs with your scent. His hairy chest was snug against your back as you felt his lips purse against your warm skin. 

The tension grew as he shifted his hips forward against yours. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his bulge firm against your ass. He let out a low hum behind you at the feel of your soft bottom against him. Your mind started running through scenarios as you tried to recall the events that took place last night. How did you end up in bed with your captain? Did you fuck your captain? Did you do what you’ve been craving since your first meeting almost two years ago?

“We should talk about it, love.” He said with a firm squeeze to your hand. 

“Did we… Did we have sex last night?” The words came out far meeker than you had intended. He let out a small sigh and pushed his head deeper into the crook of your neck. 

“No.” Before he placed a soft kiss against the side of your neck. You felt a chill run down your spine at the intimate act. “You were far too inebriated for me to feel comfortable doing anything to you.” He hummed as he began to pepper delicate kisses on your neck.

“I wanted you to.” Slide its way, breathlessly and truthfully, from your lips. 

“I know.” His hips shifted into yours, allowing you to feel him fully. Feel the warm, firm thickness that John had hidden under his shorts. “You looked stunning last night. Seeing you free and enjoying yourself like that, it made me feel things.” A gasp slipped from your lips as you felt his cock twitch against your bum. “Things I thought I had buried. Things that aren't right. Things that I shouldn’t feel about you.” He rocked his hips into you as his hand tightened around yours. “Then you danced your way over to me, looking at me like I hung the moon in the sky. Calling me what you did.” He groaned in your ear at the memory as he rolled his covered length into your behind. “You remember what you called me, love?” A fervent pulse into your rear. His hand left yours and trailed its way up your front, stopping just under your breast. 

You couldn’t say anything. Your mind had just gone blank as your captain began to frot into your clothed ass. “Hm? Do you remember, sweet girl?” His hand made its way into the valley of your breasts and he pressed, pushing your torso impossibly close to his. Your back and ass flush against the mountain of a man. 

“I-”

“Do you need me to remind you?” His hips curled into yours. Your thighs tightened and your pussy clenched around nothing. Air slipped from your mouth as your words were trapped in your throat. Lost searching for words as his cock rubbed into the covered crevice of your ass. The intimacy of the act had dulled your thoughts. The only thing that filled your mind was him and the effect that he had on you. 

“Ah. I- Price.” 

“No. Not that. That's not what you called me seven times.” His hand made its way to your gulping throat. “That’s not the name you used. No, I don't think so. That's not what you said in front of the others.” You pressed your ass into him needing to feel more of the thick bulge that was trapped between you, your underwear and his. 

“Please.” Was all that you could conjure as your mind told you to take matters into your own hands. Your trembling hand made its way between the two of you searching for the thick length that was causing the blankness in your mind. The man jerked his hips away from you. Away from your desperate touch. 

“Ah ah. Not until you say it. I know you know it sweet girl. You wouldn’t let me forget it last night.” His voice had a deep, raspy quality to it that you’d never heard from him before. It set your core ablaze. 

“Captain please.” His grip on your throat began to constrict as your hand searched behind you desperately seeking the source of warmth you’d just lost.

“Getting closer.” His other hand slipped under your neck and replaced the hand he had tightening on your throat. The hand that was originally at your throat made its way down your body as you trembled at the sensation of his warm fingers teasing your body. 

“Mmmmmm fuck. Please please. I-” His fingers made their way into the waistband of your absolutely drenched panties. Your hips twitched at the sensation. He pressed his palm just above where you needed him. His breathing deepened in your ear. He growled in your ear. Deep, full bodied like a scotch. Gravelly.

“Say it.” Your hips twitched at the command. 

“Price I- please I’m-,” the words racked your brain as you tried to concentrate. His fingers on your pubic mound just began to tap. Light yet so impactful as his fingers just danced upon you. You tilted your hips upward trying to catch their movement just a bit lower. So close to where you needed him. The words tumbled out of your mouth at breakneck speeds.

“Daddy, please.” You were almost crying now. He tugged your ear lobe between his teeth as he sank two fingers into your weeping pussy.

“Oh fuck yes.”

“Say it again, sweet girl.” No hesitation. No stammer. 

“Daddy. Fuck.” He rocked his hips back into yours as he plunged in and out of you. The meat of his palm rubbed harshly against your puffy clit. An exhale forced itself from your lips that was soon accompanied by a low whine.

“You wouldn’t stop fucking looking at me last night.” Rock.

He licked the side of your neck as he breathed heavily against your ear. He curled his fingers inside of you as the breaths were forced from your lungs. 

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” Rock.

“Like you had some kind of spell on me. Your hips. Watching them sway in that dress.” Rock.

“You- uh fuck- wouldn’t stop.” He groaned as he pushed his fingers in further. Rock.

“You insatiable little slut. I shouldn’t even fuck you right now.” His hand constricted around your throat again. The man was tearing you apart with just his fingers and his voice.

“I- oh my god. I’m so sorry, daddy. I didn’t mean it.” The groan that ripped from his throat shifted something inside of you. You needed to hear him make that sound again. Your hand fumbled behind you as you searched for his cock. John tilted his head away from your ear as he watched your clumsy ministrations. You, frantically searched behind you. 

“Desperate girl.” He chuckled over your shoulder. 

“Please, daddy. I just. I wanna make it better.” Maybe you were desperate. You really couldn’t care because the thing your really needed was so close yet being shielded from you by fucking fabric. “John fucking help me.” 

Wrong answer. 

He pulled his fingers from you and rolled out of the bed. Your body followed as he stood up. “I’m sorry, daddy. Please just- can you just-” Frustration was not a strong enough word to describe your feelings.

“Lie on your stomach.”

“Huh?”

“I won't repeat myself.” You wouldn’t even give him the chance to repeat himself as you laid yourself flat on the bed. 

“Hands behind your back.” You complied. Of course you did.

He gathered your wrists in his hand and ran his palm over the covered globe of your ass and you shivered at the touch. He yanked your panties down to your thighs and your newly exposed pussy fluttered at the change in temperature. 

“Fucking gorgeous. God look at that little pussy. It's too bad though.” You couldn’t see what he was doing behind you but your hips twitched in anticipation. 

Apologize. Yeah that’s what you should do. “Daddy, I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you feel good.” 

Smack.

An exhale left your lips that you didn’t even know you'd been holding. The pain hadn’t even fully begun before he dropped his palm onto the other cheek. You rocked your hips back in shock. 

“You don’t like to listen, sweet girl. No. You don’t think, do you?” The sting was red hot on your ass and you somehow couldn’t stop your pussy from clenching. He pressed your hands into your back and forced you to arch for him. He ran a thumb down your dripping slit. He dipped the tip of the thumb, just barely, into the opening of your weeping center. You shifted your weight back, further into his touch, and let out a soft moan. 

Smack. 

You pressed forward into the bed hoping to run from the sting that blossomed on your ass. 

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You whined.

“Sit still.” 

“Yes, daddy.” 

He let go of your hands and moved his own to the burning flesh that encompassed your ass. His hands squeezed and groped, kneaded, the plump fat that sat at your hips. 

“Calm down, sweet girl.” He soothed. With a firm grip of your ass, he turned his thumbs inward, and pulled the stinging cheeks apart. His thumbs sat just above your drenched slit. He pursed his lips and pushed a drop of spit from his lips. It landed on your perineum and trickled its way into your opening. You tried to still your hips as your mind conjured a visual of the filthy act. The picture you painted in your head had you shivering. 

“Are you gonna be good for me, love?”

“Yes, daddy.” You eagerly nodded your head against the pillow. 

He hummed behind you as he kneeled above your trembling body. He grabbed your hips and tilted them upward, deepening the arch of your spine. He pressed his weight against you as he shifted his own hips forward. His underwear was gone. You could finally feel just how massive he was as he shifted his bare hips into yours. He pressed his cock down between the globes of your ass and he rocked his weight into you. A light whimper left your lips as you felt the girth that hung between his legs. He pressed his thumb onto his cock and sank it down into your wet heat. 

The stretch was blinding as you forced yourself to calm your breathing and you felt him work your open on his cock. Your body shook as he made room for himself inside of you. It felt like the air had been pressed from your lungs. 

“Oh god yes. Thank you, daddy.” 

“Tight as a bloody vice.” A deep groan tumbled from his mouth as he dropped all of his body weight onto you. He let you adjust to his girth before he repositioned his arms and legs so he could support himself and fuck you proper. He pulsed his hips forward and you swear that you could feel him at your cervix. The kiss of his cockhead at your center sent a shiver through your body. 

“So fucking deep, daddy.”

“Yeah I am.” He sighed quietly. He rocked his hips into you again and you keened. You reached your hand up to his, needing to hold onto something as you prepared for what was to come. His thrusts began to pick up speed as he fucked you into the mattress. The only thing that could be heard in the room was the sound of his hips slapping into yours and your quick releases of air as he fucked into you. A ragged growl left his throat as he straightened his legs and grabbed your neck. It was a blur of colors and gasps as he shifted the two of you over. He laid on his back with your back to his chest and planted his feet firm into the mattress. He slipped a hand around your front and found your neglected clit. His hips met your ass with a fierce clap. The sounds that left your mouth were quick little yaps as he fucked up into you. The change in angles had you feeling him even deeper than before and you were about to start seeing stars.  

You’d never been fucked like this. His hips shot upward and brought yours back down as they descended. The pressure of him driving into your aching pussy along with the tight, firm circles on your clit had you clenching tightly onto his cock. He was hitting all the right spots deep inside of you and taking care of your clit just the way you needed. All you could do was lay on top of him and take it as he basically used your body. His breathing had gone ragged as he pounded you.  

“Daddy I-”

“What sweet girl? Is it too much for you?” He smirked, out of breath beneath you as he pounded into your pussy. He stopped the circular movements on your clit as he pulled his hand away from your body. A frustrated goan fell from your lips at their removal. The groan was short-lived as tight gasp replaced it. Price quickly dropped his hand back down onto your clit in a sharp slap.

“Oh my god.” You squeaked.

He chuckled behind you and did it again. The sting from his motion had melded perfectly with the pleasure of him digging into you. Your pussy tightened around him as the sensations of his actions pushed you closer to the edge. He brought his hand back down onto your puffy clit and sighed into your ear. The only thing that slipped from your mouth were the short moans that were being punched out of you as you took what he gave you. 

“You gonna cum, sweet girl?” He taunted over your shoulder. His condescending tone had your pussy bearing down onto him. 

“Fuck. I feel you tightening up on me.” His voice had started to sound almost surprised as he made you take him. He placed his hand back on your pussy and used his index finger to rub small, intense circles on your clit. 

“I’m gonna cum, sweet girl. Where can I? Huh? Can I cum in you?” He ragged under you. 

“Fuck yes. Yes, daddy. Yes.”

“You gonna let me fill you up? Huh?” He sounded absolutely feral. He applied firmer pressure to your clit as he groaned into your shoulder. 

“Oh fuck, daddy” You threw your head back and dropped all of your weight onto him as you felt your release flood your system. Your back arched and your toes curled as you struggled to take air into your lungs. The intensity of the orgasm rendered you speechless and helpless as it washed upon you. Price’s movements grew sloppy as he tried to walk you through your release. You ground your hips into his as you rode out your high. 

“Fucking shit.” You felt your captain throb inside of you as he emptied himself into your aching cunt. You felt the warmth grow inside of you as his seed flooded your warm walls. 

He straightened out his legs and layed the two of you onto your sides. He left his softening cock inside of you as he wrapped an arm around your sweat drenched torso. All that could be heard in the room was the sound of your breaths syncing up as you laid there in bliss.  

“Holy shit.” You panted. 

“Mhm. I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” He sighed, breathlessly as he traced your senseless shapes onto your stomach.

“Yeah? Me too.”  You smiled as you turned your head to partially face him. 

“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” His baby blues met your gaze.

“Because you’re a stubborn man.” A satisfied chuckle fell from his lips as he smiled at you.

“I guess so.” 

A beat passed as the two looked into each other's eyes. Your breaths had fallen in sync with one another.

“You told your friend that you loved me.” Somehow, more warmth spreads across your face and your eyes widen and his smile grows. 

“I- I do.” You said, meek as a mouse, as if you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. 

He leans over and places a soft, tender kiss to your lips. His lips feel surprisingly soft and only mildly chapped as they move against yours. He pulls back from you, breathless, as his eyes lock onto yours. 

“I love you too, sweet girl.” 

[keikikait]

ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

read my other rafe series here!

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader (not au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 3k

summary: you're his safe space after stressful days in the outer banks

warnings: friends with benefits, light angst, no outright smut but it's mentioned/suggestive so read at your own risk, cheating??, i promise i don't actually hate sofia, i haven't finished s4 yet so i don't know everything, pining, soft rafe comes out for like four seconds, not proofread

a note: this is my first fic for outer banks! i don't think i slayed with this...

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

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Ever since Rafe met you a year ago, he’s gone to you after everything.

Whenever he’s angry, or stressed, or feeling downright homicidal, he comes to you. He knocks three times on your apartment door before you let him in, pulling him into your arms. Sometimes he doesn’t even knock the third time before you’re throwing the door open and grabbing his hand. It’s almost as if he steps into a portal into another dimension with the way he immediately relaxes in your presence, everything rolling off of his shoulders as he wraps his arms around you. You’re always so soft, and you always smell so good, like that expensive perfume he got you for your birthday.

You’ll hold him for as long as he needs, rubbing his back and lightly scratching his scalp with your nails, it’s the least you could do considering he pays for them every time. He just has one rule. You can’t kiss him. And it’s so hard not to. It’s hard not to grab him and kiss him while he’s thrusting into you, hand on your throat. It’s hard not to kiss him when he rushes inside your apartment, angry tears in his eyes with blood on his knuckles after losing his temper on someone. 

You spend most of your nights waiting for him. Sometimes you stay up all night, waiting for those three little knocks. You spend most of the time asleep on your sofa, hoping he would come to you instead of her. 

Sofia.

At first, he told you Sofia was just a friend, which turned into a friends with benefits. He told you there wasn’t anything serious going on, and that she was just a girl he kept around when he was bored, that she was good for his ever decaying image in the Outer Banks. And you believed him. You fucking believed him. There was a little part of you that wanted to occupy his brain, be the only living space in his head. And when he’s filling up his lungs with a cigarette or some weed he bummed off of Kelce, you wanted to be the only name that’s under his breath. 

You didn’t know the truth until you saw her Instagram post. Her account was private, but you managed to get your follow request approved on your burner account. You spent far too much time scrolling through her never-ending posts and stories, looking for a glimpse of him. You had decided to check her account while eating your breakfast this morning, the spoon clattering out of your hand when you saw her newest post.

It was a photo of her and Rafe, lounging in his new house, with the caption; ‘Soft launching an almost year-long relationship. Happy 8 months, baby!’

Your oatmeal was shortly discarded. You crawled back into your bed, cancelled all of your plans, and decided to hide away from the world until you got over him. 

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It was almost 10 PM when you heard the three little knocks.

Rafe stands on the other side, hands shaking slightly. What was taking you so long? He bangs twice more before you finally open the door. 

You hold the door open just wide enough so he can see you, keeping your hand firmly on the doorknob. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He doesn’t sound like his usual self. He sounds drained, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than usual. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a hoodie, a gold chain around his neck that glitters in the light. It feels like forever before he speaks again, eyes not meeting yours. “Can I come in?”

You should say no. You should turn him away. You were the other woman, after all.

But you let him in, stepping aside, biting the inside of your lip.

Rafe sighs, relieved. He really didn’t want to stay somewhere else tonight. Quietly, he slips past you, going straight for your sofa. He plops himself down, immediately kicking his shoes off and burying his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. You shut the door and lock it, hesitating before walking over to him, standing next to the sofa. You almost move to sit next to him, nervously picking at the skin around your thumbnails.

He doesn’t notice you hovering over him, too lost in his own head. He looks like a complete mess. Rafe is usually so put together, always straightening his hair until it’s just right and tugging on the sleeve of his designer sweatshirt if it’s even a centimeter out of place.

“You okay?” You eventually say, and you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth. You shouldn’t have even let him in.

“What do you think?” His tone is bitter, but you can tell there’s no real bite behind it. He still refuses to look up, his fingers lacing together and gripping his hair almost painfully.

“Don’t do that.” You immediately say, reaching out and grabbing his fingers. “Don’t rip your hair out.”

He flinches for a moment, not expecting you to touch him. He glances up at you, his gaze meeting yours for a second before he looks away again, his shoulders slumping a little as all the fight leaves his body. Rafe doesn’t pull his hands away, instead he just moves them out of his hair, allowing you to hold his hands.

He looks so disheveled it almost hurts.

You sit down, continuing to hold his hands. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t respond at first. Instead, his thumb brushes against yours, absentmindedly. “We got into a fight. Me and Sofia.” He admits quietly. It shouldn’t make your heart leap into your throat, but it does. You shouldn’t be happy that he and his awful girlfriend are fighting.

“I’m sorry.” You say, brushing your thumbs over the back of his hands.

He sighs heavily, leaning his head against the back of the sofa. “It just… It didn’t use to be like this, y’know? We were just friends, and we were just messing around.” His tone is bitter, almost annoyed. “Now she wants me to be her boyfriend and everything is… different. And I don’t like it.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly. At that moment you feel a glimmer of hope, that maybe he didn’t want to date Sofia, and that he actually wanted to be with you. “What happened?”

Rafe closes his eyes as he tilts his head towards the ceiling, like it’ll help him remember. “She was nagging me all day. Nag nag nag. I was trying to work, she wanted to go on a date.” He pauses just for a second to take a deep breath, his brow furrowing slightly when he releases it. “She started being a brat. ‘Oh, but you always make time for her!’” He says the last part in a high-pitched mocking tone.

“You can talk to me, if you want.” You slide your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. “You’re always welcome here.”

Rafe stares at your interlocked hands, biting the inside of his lip. He hesitates for a second before giving your hand a small squeeze. “I told her I didn’t feel like going on some stupid date, and she started acting like a baby. She said… she said if I wasn’t going to act like a boyfriend, I shouldn’t get to have all the benefits of having a girlfriend.” He says the last part with a scoff, anger making its way into his voice again.

You squeeze his hand. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

Rafe finally looks back at you, his brow furrowing again. “Yeah. I don’t want to be home with her right now.” You didn’t know they lived together.

You hope it means as much to him as it does to you that he’s staying here. 

You lead him into your bedroom, pulling out the spare clothes that he keeps here. He changes in front of you, as he always does, and you have to stop yourself from staring. Part of you feels guilty for letting him stay here while his girlfriend was at home, waiting up for him.

You start to overthink. You want Rafe here. You don’t want him to go home, especially not to her. But you don’t want to be the other woman, you don’t want to make an enemy out of Sofia. “Rafe, maybe you should--” You start to say before he suddenly grabs you, throwing you onto your bed and climbing on top of you.

“Don’t.” He interrupts you, pinning your wrists to the mattress as he moves in to lay between your legs. He looks down at you, his brow still furrowed. “I don’t want to talk about her or hear her name. I just want to forget about her.” He leans down towards your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin. “I need you.”

“You have me.” You say softly.

He shakes his head. Something in him shifts as he starts tugging on your shirt, trying to pull it off of you. He seems desperate, desperate for you and to feel your skin against his. “You don’t get it.”

You lift your arms so he can pull your t-shirt off. “You need me, Rafe, and I’m here. I’m always here.” Your expression falls, growing slightly worried as you see his eyes turn red, tears starting to well up.

Rafe shakes his head, the motion almost desperate.  “No,” he answers, his fingers tracing the soft skin around your ribs. “I need you. I need you in a way that I’ve never needed anyone before. I need to be so close to you that we’re a single being. I need my skin against yours with no boundaries between us. I need—”. He slowly pushes you onto your back, moving to hover over you as his hands continue to roam, moving to caress your sides and hips. “I need to feel you against me,” he whispers. “I need your skin on mine until there’s no way to know where you begin, and I end.”

You’ve never wanted to kiss him so bad. You reach up and cup his face, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. "You have me, honey. In every way you want. I'll always be here."

He presses his face against your palm, closing his eyes and nuzzling into your touch, chasing after the gentle sensation of your hands against his skin. He swallows hard, his throat bobbing as his eyes open again to meet yours. He presses closer against you, his forehead dropping to rest in the crook of your neck. He lets out a shaky breath. “Baby,” he whispers, voice cracking slightly before he stops, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he tries to hold himself together.

“What?” You ask softly, your hand moving up behind his head.

“I… I can’t take this anymore.” Rafe presses himself even closer against you, his entire torso pressing against yours as his arms wrap around your middle, his fingers tracing the skin of your back. “Sofia.” He says her name like it’s a curse, his grip on you tightening. “She’s controlling and clingy and demanding. I have to go where she wants, do everything she wants, and I can’t say no to anything, or she throws a tantrum. I hate it.”

“Don’t think about her.” You say softly into his ear, rubbing the back of his neck with your thumb. “She’s not here. I am.” 

“I know,” he whispers, and the words come out so close to him moaning that it sends little sparks directly to your core. “God, I know. You’re all I can think about. You’ve been all I can think about since I met you.” 

A moment of silence passes between you, only the sound of his ragged breathing filling the room until he speaks again, sounding more desperate this time. “Kiss me, please.”

Your eyes widen, your heart almost stopping. “What? But Rafe, you told me I couldn’t.”

“I don’t care.” His voice is firm, his hand moving up from your back to cup your cheek, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes are dark, the deep blue practically black in the low light of the room.  “Please. I need to feel something that isn’t her against me. I need to feel you. Kiss me, please, kiss me, please—” His words break into a desperate plea, his hand pressing against the skin of your back almost frantically.

He sounds so desperate, it makes your heart ache.

You cup his cheeks and kiss him, going softly at first.

Rafe immediately melts into your touch, his entire body relaxing in response. His hands start to roam again, his fingertips tracing the curve of your waist, the skin on the underside of your thighs, the flesh of your back. He can’t stay still, touching every inch of you that his hands can reach as he kisses you like the taste of your mouth is the only thing that will save him from drowning. His tongue swipes along your bottom lip, begging you to give him more as he pushes your legs open. He grinds himself against you, reaching down to pull your panties off. He pulls away before ripping the soft purple cotton in half, shoving the remnants into his pocket. He sits up on his knees, tugging his sweatpants down, smirking at you when your eyes linger on his bulge.

He tugs his boxers down and goes to climb on top of you again when you stop him. “Condom, Rafe.”

That stops him in his tracks, his eyes widening slightly and his cheeks turning pink as he looks down at you. “I didn’t—“ He swallows hard, his throat bobbing obviously as he looks almost guilty. “I didn’t bring one.”

“Dresser.” You say. “Top drawer, by the socks. Big box of ‘em.”

He immediately scrambles off of the bed, his fingers trembling slightly as he pulls open the drawer, digging through it before finding the box. He picks up the box, his fingers drumming against the lid for a moment before popping it open. He glances at you as he pulls one out, tossing the box onto the floor next to a discarded sock without bothering to shut the lid. “How often do you bring guys back here?” He asks, more accusatory than he intended for it to be.

“Not for other guys.” You say. “You just never bring any.”

“Oh.” He seems to relax a little at that answer, swallowing hard and looking almost sheepish as he turns around, holding it up between two fingers.

He looks so handsome walking over to you, now.

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Rafe fucks you so good, you almost tell him you love him.

Your legs are still shaky the next morning as you make your way around your kitchen, preparing some breakfast. You hear him padding through your apartment before coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his chest against your back. You lean against him as you cook, reaching up with your free hand to cup his cheek.

You sit in comfortable silence.

Until Rafe’s phone dings.

He sighs, pulling it out of his pocket. He opens the message and reads it, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Something wrong?” You ask.

“It’s Sofia.” He says.

You tighten your grip on your spatula. “Is it?”

“Yeah,” Rafe sighs, kissing the back of your head. “I gotta go home. I promised her a brunch date on the mainland.”

You freeze, but just for a second. “You’re going back to her? Even after what we talked about yesterday?” You turn the stove top off and set your spatula down, turning to face him.

“Yeah. She’s my girlfriend.” Rafe says.

You’re speechless. Were you being delusional last night? Did you dream it all? “But… I thought you said that you didn’t like being her boyfriend.”

“I don’t.” Rafe says, sighing. He tilts his head slightly. “She’s good for appearances, for my reputation.”

“But you don’t need her to have a good reputation.” You argue. “Just try to not fight every Pogue you see, and your reputation will skyrocket.” 

“You don’t get it, baby.” Rafe says, starting to get defensive. “I need her. Whether you like it or not, I need to play pretend with her.”

“But is it worth it?” You ask. “Is it worth being unhappy?”

“I’m always unhappy!” Rafe says. “I’m kinda used to it, sweetheart.”

You scoff. “Are you unhappy with me?”

“No, of course not.” Rafe says quickly. “Don’t be stupid.”

You sigh. “Rafe, I just don’t understand your reasoning.”

“It’s just for appearances.” Rafe says. He can feel himself getting angrier and angrier, but he has to hold himself back, stop himself from snapping at you. He reaches up and tugs on his hair again. “God, what do you want from me? What do you want me to do, huh?”

You suck in a short breath. You haven’t seen Rafe angry in so long, you almost forgot what it was like. “All I wanted was you.”

Rafe purses his lips, looking away. He takes a shaky deep breath, counting to four before releasing, a trick you taught him. He takes a step towards you, watching you flinch slightly. “No, don’t��don’t flinch, baby. You know I’m not gonna do anything.” He reaches out, cupping the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair before pulling you closer. He kisses your forehead before sighing, leaving his lips against your skin.

“It’s just for appearances.” He whispers. “I promise.” He kisses your forehead again before pulling away, cupping your face. “I’ll be back tonight, okay? Please promise me you’ll stay up.”

You nod.

Rafe sighs, lightly squishing your cheeks, his voice low and soft. “Words, sweet girl.”

You shiver, leaning closer. “I promise I’ll stay up.”

“Good girl.” His voice is almost a whisper as he pulls you closer, kissing your forehead yet again. “I’ll be back soon.”

He leaves as quickly as he entered, shutting the door behind you.

You let out a shaky breath before turning the stove top back on and continuing to cook.

You were going to stay up. You would be stupid not to.

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let me know what you think!

part two is here!

[stevesbipanic]

@steddiemicrofic prompt: fool, WC, 454, rating: G

Only fools fall for someone like Steve Harrington. You'd have to be foolish to fall for someone to kind and caring, someone who'd never let you feel unloved. Only fools would fall for that smile, those eyes, knowing love was being given freely yet not quite the one you wanted.

Only fools like Eddie Munson fell for straight boys like Steve Harrington.

"Eddie? You ok?"

Eddie was shaken from his bemoaning thoughts by the very boy that occupied them.

"Yeah, Stevie, sorry, spaced out for a second there."

There was that smile again, if Eddie dreamt hard enough he'd believe that smile was reserved just for him.

"We should have a signal for normal zoning out, please be advised no scary dreams or weird thoughts about clocks happening here," Steve laughed. It was nice being able to laugh about it, Vecna was dead a year now, they were safe and free.

How could he tell this beautiful boy that he had scary dreams every night of Steve hating him or weird thoughts about how his hair looked almost golden in the afternoon light. Eddie would be a fool to lose what he already had.

"I was thinking, maybe you wanted to go see a movie with me this Friday? We could stop by the diner and grab burgers too?" Steve looked nervous, why did he look nervous it wasn't like they'd never done those exact things together before.

"Of course, Stevie, that sounds great, as long as I'm not stealing you from some nice girl on date night."

Steve was blushing now, wait why was he blushing, had Eddie embarrassed him, did his date cancel?

"Um, actually, I was hoping maybe, it's ok if you don't, but um, fuck this was a dumb idea." Steve looked upset and if there was one thing in the world Eddie hated more than anything else it was Steve looking sad.

"Hey, sweetheart, what's wrong, what were you hoping?" Eddie could feel his foolish heart skip a beat at the impossible possibility of what Steve was trying to say.

Steve took a deep breath and Eddie felt those hazel eyes he loved so much look directly into his soul, "I was hoping you'd be my date, Eds."

Before Eddie's brain had a chance to panic his heart answered, "Stevie, there's nothing I'd rather do this Friday than be your date."

Only fools fell for someone like Steve Harrington, a boy that picks you up on time and holds your hand. You'd have to be foolish not to fall for a kiss goodnight at your door. Only fools fall for their best friend but Eddie thinks he wouldn't mind being a fool as long as he had his Stevie.

[gorgeys]

kinda pervy!queen maeve x femsupe!reader

sorry this is so long but i finished season 3 and had to get this out of my system. maeve come home the kids miss you.

and pls more ppl write for her 🙏🙏

she doesn't want to be like this.  she really doesn't.  but as you sit down at your new seat across from her at your first seven meeting, all of her morals fly right out the window.

you're smiling up at homelander as he introduces you, but all maeve can see are your hands attempting to pull the low cut neckline of your suit up to cover more of your tits.  your suit's brand new and, like starlight's, shows more skin than your previous one which takes some getting used to on your end.

vought's costume department also made quite a few mistakes so your new suit is basically a size too small.  it's the world's best push-up bra, giving maeve so much to look at.  but it's the small opening of your suit over your rib cage that really gets her.  it shows just the teeniest big of your underboob and it's already driving her wild.

you're already not leaving up to imagination, but still, she wants to reach across the table and rip the black leather right off of you.  she wants to run her cold hands all over your chest and make your nipples turn hard under her thumbs.  she wants to grope and squeeze your tits and watch as your face morphs between pain and pleasure.

when you look over at her, you finally notice that she's been staring at you with what appears to be the meanest death glare you've ever seen.  she's leaning forward with her elbows on the table and a clenched jaw as if you're her next target.  you look away quickly, already scared of her.  you just hoped she didn't hate you.  she was your idol after all. oh, if you only knew what she was thinking.

you're too pre-occupied to notice, but every time you leave the conference room after a meeting, she always walks behind you.  of course, it's not an accident.  nothing she does is an accident.

she notices that whenever you walk in front of one of the boys (especially the deep), your hands constantly rest along the hem of your skirt which barely covers your bare ass, ready to pull it down and obstruct their prying eyes.  but with her, you don't seem to care.  it's probably because you think that you're both girls so you don't have anything to worry about.  little do you know she's the worst of them all.

her eyes constantly peek beneath your skirt, hoping to catch a glimpse of something.  a couple times she does get lucky and sees a bit of your white or pink cotton underwear.  one time she gets really lucky and instead catches your black lace panties and wonders who you could be wearing those for.  it's moments like those where she hopes you know she's looking.  she wants you to wear those for her, no one else.

but most days she's not that fortunate.  instead she just watches the sway of your hips and ass as you both walk over to the elevator.  again, she wants to run her hands all over you and feel every single curve.  she visualizes herself squeezing your ass and whispering in your ear how soft and smooth your skin is.  then she imagines bending you over something so she can see all of you.

but then you enter the elevator and turn around and smile sweetly at her.  having spent enough time in the seven, you know she won't ever smile back, but it doesn't really bother you.  you've accepted that's just who she is.  meanwhile, she contemplates pressing the emergency stop button, slamming you against the wall, and shoving her fingers so far inside of you that your brain goes fuzzy and tears are slipping down your pretty cheeks.

it's that same thought that keeps her awake at night.  she can almost hear your whines and moans echoing in her head.  she can hear you begging to cum all over her face and promising you'll be a good girl for her.  you're so loud in her head that she can't help but reach under her shorts and rub circles on her clit as she whispers your name into her pillow.  she thinks about fucking you so often that, to her, it feels like it's really happened.

one time she comes back late from a team-up and, on her way toward her room, peeks into the training room to find you practicing moves on a punching bag.  she stops and just watches through the window for a second.  your back is to her but your hair is up and she can see the sweat dripping off your neck, some of it hitting the mat beneath your feet.  she wonders what it tastes like.  probably salty, but also sweet because it's you after all.  she'd lick your sweat right off your neck in long stripes.  she'd probably lick it off the floor too if she was feeling extra thirsty.

she's torn.  she's tired and you look tired and if homelander catches her, he'll know something strange is going on.  but as you turn slightly toward her and use your tank top to wipe some sweat of your forehead, she makes her decision.

"hey" she says, leaning against the door frame.  you whip your head around and are more than surprised to see her of all people with her arms crossed over her chest and a smug half smile.  "need a training partner?"

you weren't going to say no to this uncharacteristically kind offering, even if you were just about to head upstairs.  so you're jumping around the mat at nearly midnight, dodging her blows and getting in a few licks of your own.  you're a pretty good fighter, but not as good as her, so it's not long before she has you pinned to the mat with one forearm against both your shoulders.

your chest is heaving beneath her arm and your mouth is slightly open.  she's never been this close to you before.  she feels like she's on fucking fire, feeling herself on top of you like this and feeling her skin against yours.  she would've been able to control herself if you weren't staring into her eyes like that, looking a little dazed but excited.  who can blame her for closing the distance and kissing you like there's no tomorrow?

you're beyond shocked.  more like stupefied.  you'd never even had an inkling that she had thought of you in this way.  in fact, you assumed she wanted to kill you sometimes.  but the way she kissed you so hard and dug her teeth in your bottom lip made you want her so badly that you could feel your panties growing wet.

with your little crush on her, you thought about this moment sometimes and assumed she'd be rough but my god she was rough with you that first time.  she barely let you move, keeping you completely pinned to the mat with one arm while the other snuck beneath your skirt.

"you don't even know how long i've been waiting for this," she whispers into your ear as her fingers push your panties to the side.  she's instantly assaulting your clit in fast, tight circles, leaving you writhing beneath her, though there's not much wiggle room between your bodies.

"maeve, what if somebody sees?" you ask between quiet whines.  what a suck up you were, constantly trying to gain points with the other members of the seven in hopes of gaining more power.  she especially hated the way you sucked up to homelander, always grinning at him and laughing at his stupid, gross jokes with hearts in your eyes.  a small part of her wanted him to see her fucking you so good.

"you'll keep taking my fingers, goody fucking two shoes," she says through gritted teeth before shoving a finger inside of you with no warning, causing your back to arch up and off of the mat.  "good girl, baby."

after that night, there's less staring and imagining but more touching and doing.  her hand grazes your ass when you pass each other in the hallway.  she pretends to swat a fly away from your chest and ends up smacking one of your tits.  it always ends with that same no-good smile.

you try your best to only end the night in maeve's room if homelander's out on a mission, but she grows impatient.  you're an addiction and every little taste she gets leaves her wanting more.  she especially gets handsy when you've spent a lot of unnecessary time with homelander.

"y'think he can fuck you like this?" she asks, her strap buried deep inside of you.  you're sat on the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around her waist and hands tangled in her hair as she relentlessly pounds into you, pushing you toward your third orgasm.  you moan a "no" into her shoulder before biting down on her skin.  "yeah, that's what i thought.  if i see you touching him again, i swear i'll strip you naked and fuck you in front of him.  now cum before i change my mind and don't let you."

she once threatened to make you wear a vibrator to one of the seven meetings after you came back from a team-up with homelander's arm around your shoulders.  but, after a lot of begging and time spent on your hands and knees feverishly eating her out, maeve finally forgot about the idea.  he would've probably seen it anyways.

but, one of, if not her favorite time fucking you is on a random sunday when homelander's out doing day-time talk show interviews.  she drags you into the seven conference room and sits in homelander's chair at the head of the table.

"feels good, does it, baby?" you say, sitting on the edge of the table in front of her, reaching underneath your skirt and shimmying your panties off.

she sighs a sigh of accomplishment and leans her head back against the chair without taking her hungry eyes off of you.  "feels fucking fantastic."

then she's rolling her chair forward, locking her arms around your thighs, and pulling your pussy toward her mouth.  you lie back on the table with your legs over her shoulders and moan maeve's name as her lips enclose your clit and suck harshly.  she shushes you but with her lips against your cunt, the vibrations only leave you struggling to compose yourself.

the rush of power from eating you out in homelander's chair makes her hungrier than ever and she laps you up quickly, collecting your juices on her tongue and swallowing proudly to avoid leaving behind a mess.  "you taste better than ever, baby," she says, licking her lips before leaning down to give you a chaste kiss.

everything's going well until one fateful meeting when homelander's getting on your ass about some dumb little thing you said in an interview that's been twisted by fans and is now trending on twitter.  he was talking to you like you were a mentally unstable infant and it was starting to piss maeve off.

"hey, cool it, homelander," she interrupts him mid-sentence as he ranted on about your "tiny pea brain."  he turns his face, which was inches away from yours, toward maeve who was coolly leaned back in her chair.  they had a stern staring contest for a few moments before something inside of him snapped.

"just cause y/n's slutting herself out to you doesn't mean you have to be her lesbian knight in shining armor, maeve."  maeve was far better at hiding her shock than you were.  "yeah i fucking knew about you two.  don't think you can hide anything from me."

and that was when your secret arrangement turned into a very public one.  you would be lucky to escape this situation with your life.  luckily maeve would never let you go without a fight.

[lovegoodlane]

Pursuing the Prefect- 3

3.7k words

Warnings: mentions of sex, teasing, oral sex [female receiving], fingering

Summary: Fred and his prefect continue to grow closer, but their relationship grows tense when he suggests a public date (soft Fred, dom (ish) Fred)

Author's note: Here's another part! I'm trying to build up a storyline in case y'all want this short fic to continue. Enjoy <3

Link to part 1, part 2

----

Another week at Hogwarts had passed. You had spent a bit of time with Fred, sneaking kisses in empty classrooms and even spending Saturday night curled up on a blanket at the quidditch pitch. It was nothing official yet, but you were enjoying getting to know him.

It was already Thursday. The weeks were passing by in a blur. As a Sixth Year, you were focused on studying as much as you could before taking the entrance exams for an Upper School program in potions. It was difficult to get in, so you spent much of your free time cramming as much information into your brain as possible.

You walked to dinner with Cho and Beatrice, chatting about the Winter Ball coming up next month. Beatrice had been talking your ear off about Oliver Wood for the past week, and she was hoping that he would ask her to be his date.

"He's so dreamy," Beatrice swooned. "If he doesn't ask me to be his date, I might use a curse on him."

"Do you talk about anything other than Wood?" Cho snapped, clearly annoyed.

Cho's relationship with Cedric Diggory had been on the rocks. She had a bit of a jealous streak, and watching other girls fawn over Cedric got on her nerves. They'd been arguing about it nonstop for the past month.

"Cho, leave her alone," you said defensively. "She's allowed to be chuffed about Wood. You were the same with Diggory. I get that you're brassed off, but that's not Bea's fault."

Cho glared at you, huffing. She knew you were right. "Who are you going with? Seems like Adrian is your only option," she said, veering the conversation topic away from herself.

"I'm definitely not going with Adrian," you said empathically. "I don't need to have a date, I'm not worried about it."

"Maybe Fred will ask you," Beatrice teased, nudging you. "He seems pretty fond of you."

"I'd rather go to the ball with a toad than Fred Weasley," Cho asserted.

"Godric Cho, pull the stick out of your arse, will you?" you said, clearly irritated with her. 

You still hadn't filled Cho in about your situation with Fred. The only thing she would do is make snarky remarks and tell you that it's a bad idea. She was too worried about her squeaky clean reputation to see any value in associating with the Weasley twins. It pissed you off.

"I think I'm actually going to skip out on dinner, I'll grab something from the kitchen elves later. I want to get a start on my Potions assignment," you said as you had reached the Great Hall.

It was just an excuse to not have to sit through dinner with Cho. You could barely stand her recently, and taking some space felt like a good decision. 

Beatrice squeezed your hand in a goodbye, and Cho only shrugged and rolled her eyes. You turned to head for the library, wanting some peace and quiet after dealing with Cho's attitude.

You were only paces from the library when you ran in to the Weasley twins. 

"Hey birdie," Fred greeted you. "Heading back into your abyss?"

"My abyss?" you questioned.

"The library," he said matter-of-factly. "They should give you a cot so you can sleep there, would save you a trip to your dormitory."

"Have you two even seen the inside of the library? Or do your pranks occupy too much of your time?" you asked, crossing your arms and jutting out a hip. You raised your eyebrows at them expectantly.

George chuckled, enjoying the attitude that you were hurling at his brother. Very few people had the guts to stand up to Fred.

"You can show me if you'd like," Fred retorted, stepping closer to you. "Though I can't promise that I'll be much interested in doing homework, if you know what I mean."

You bit the inside of your cheek. These flirty showdowns were routine between you two, but somehow it was more embarrassing when someone was watching. Like George. But that didn't mean that you were going to let Fred win.

"I would be willing to tutor you again, Merlin knows that your grades need it," you said, closing the space between you and Fred. You reached for his tie, playing with the end. "It'll cost you, though."

George cleared his throat, an attempt at reminding you two that he was still there. It didn't matter though, both of you were locked in to this battle.

"Name a price, darling," Fred muttered, his hands ghosting underneath your robes and finding a place on your hips. 

You looked up at him, trying to soften your gaze to appear innocent. You were going to put the nail into his coffin.

You stood on your toes so you could whisper in his ear. "I keep having a dream where you bend me over a desk in Potions class. That sounds like a sufficient payment to me."

You nipped at his ear before pulling away, grinning at him sweetly as if you hadn't just whispered something filthy in his ear. Fred stared at you, a slight blush in his cheeks in response to your words. He still wasn't used to your boldness.

"Are you two going to shag in the hallway or what?" George piped up, causing his twin to turn around and give him a slap to the chest. 

"We were on our way to dinner. And I am still very hungry, in case you have forgotten," George said, directing his last sentence at Fred. It was a not so subtle reminder for him to keep things moving. 

"Did you have dinner already?" Fred asked after giving George a glare.

"No," you responded. "I was going to get something from the kitchen elves later."

"Then why don't we do that," Fred proposed. "George, you can go on to dinner. I'm sure you won't miss me."

George shrugged and offered you a wave before he headed off in the direction of the Great Hall. You hadn't been intending to spend your evening with Fred, but you could think of worse things you could be doing instead. Like sitting through dinner with Cho.

"The kitchen elves love me," Fred said sarcastically. "You'll have to do your prefect sweet talking to get them to hand over the goods."

——

After getting some sustenance from the kitchen elves, you and Fred ended up back in his dormitory. He wanted to show you the music player that Hermione had gotten him for his birthday last year. It was Muggle technology, and he found it incredibly fascinating.

"What is it called again?" you asked as you settled onto his bed. You propped yourself up with a pillow, waiting for him to work the music player.

"I think Hermione called it a record player," he replied, fiddling with the machine. "You have to put these records on it to make it play music."

He held up a few of the records in his collection. To you, they just looked like big black discs. 

Fred finally settled on a record and put it on the machine, adjusting the volume. It was something you had never heard before.

"This is from a band called Mother Mother," Fred explained. "Hermione says that they're pretty edgy."

He finally joined you on the bed, leaning up on the wall behind him. You both sat there listening to the music for a bit, content without conversation.

"I've been wondering..." Fred started, looking over at you.

"Oh no," you teased. You jokingly put your head in your hands.

"I haven't even said it yet, you git," Fred replied, pulling your hands from your face. You grinned at him, and he grinned back.

"I wanted to know how you started dating Pucey in the first place," he said.

You breathed out. You knew that Fred was curious about your relationship with Adrian. Everyone at Hogwarts knew that you were dating last year, and it took most people by surprise when they found out that you had broken up.

"Adrian's dad is my dad's boss," you answered. "We've gone on holiday together every year since we were kids. The summer before 5th year, he suddenly fancied me. That's pretty much it, I guess."

"That's it?" Fred questioned. "You didn't put him through trial after trial like you're doing to me?"

He flicked at your thigh, emphasizing his teasing. 

"Adrian was different. I was younger then, less experienced. And no one had been interested in me before," you said. 

"There's no way that can be true," Fred said, adjusting his position on the bed. "You've always been pretty. I'm sure lots of blokes have fancied you."

"If they did, none of them told me," you replied, letting out a dry chuckle. This topic was a bit of a sore spot for you. You had always felt like you weren't pretty enough, as you hadn't drawn the attention of the boys like some of the other girls at Hogwarts. But this insecurity subsided a bit as you got older. Who needed attention from a boy when you could have good grades?

You and Fred sat in silence for a moment. He seemed to be thinking about what to say next. 

"Of all of the blokes at Hogwarts, you chose a Slytherin?" Fred asked, half joking and half serious.

You slapped at him. "I don't care what House someone is in. I dated Adrian because he fancied me, and I was tired of all of my friends having boyfriends. Adrian is smart, and he's good looking. And whether you like to admit it or not, he's cracking at quidditch."

"Cracking is a bit of an overstatement," Fred replied. "Did you even fancy Pucey then?"

You shrugged. "I liked the companionship. We had always been friends. It wasn't difficult to turn it into something more. And I wanted to keep up with everyone else at Hogwarts who was snogging and shagging anyone they could get their hands on. Adrian felt like a safe option."

"So it sounds like you never really liked him," Fred said, leaning his head on your shoulder.

"I liked him, but I didn't love him," you answered. "He really loved me. And I still feel bad about that. But I just....my heart wasn't in it."

"Is that why you broke up?" he asked.

"Part of it. He wanted things to get more serious. Slytherin pureblood families are really intense about dating and marriage, and he wanted to consider next steps. I wasn't ready, and I wanted to focus on academics," you said. "I didn't want to break his heart. And I know that he still really cares about me, but I'm not cut out for a life like that."

"What, you mean that you don't want to be the next Narcissa Malfoy? I can't imagine why not," Fred teased, poking at your side. 

"Shut it," you replied, slapping at his hand. "I'm not made to be a pureblood trophy wife who pops out perfect pureblood babies. I want a career."

"That makes sense," Fred said. "You've got enough brains to do anything. So what would you want to do?"

"I want to go to Upper School for Potions," you said. Every time you talked about it, it sounded far away and impossible. "I don't know where I'll go from there. I could make potions for hospitals. Or maybe I'll teach, I'm not sure."

"You'll be cracking at teaching," Fred said, a smile stretching across his face. "My marks in Potions were way better when you tutored me."

A slower song started to play from the record player, and Fred popped up onto his feet. He extended a hand toward you.

"Dance with me?" he asked, giving you a wink.

You tried to fight the smile that started to spread across your lips, but it was too late. You accepted his hand, wiggling off the bed and joining him.

He guided you to the center of his dormitory, placing one of your hands on his shoulder and holding the other. His hand found its way down to your waist.

You began swaying together to the music. It was a bit awkward and clumsy at first, but after a bit, it felt romantic.

"Do you have a date to the Winter Ball yet?" Fred asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," you teased him, squinting your eyes and scrunching your nose.

"I would actually, because I'd like you to be my date," he said.

"I'll have to think about it," you replied, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of an easy "yes".

"What, do you need a grand gesture?" he asked, squeezing your hip. A lopsided grin was on his lips. 

"The only thing I need is time to think about it," you replied, cocking your head slightly at him.

You leaned your head onto his chest, finally closing the small gap between the two of you. You stayed like this for at least one whole song.

"Birdie?" Fred said, a question clearly on the horizon.

"Yes, Fred?" you replied, your cheek still pressed against his chest.

"We don't have to talk about it if you're not ready, but it's something to consider," he started.

"You're making me nervous," you said, pulling back so you could look up at him.

"No, it's nothing to be nervous about," he soothed. "I wanted to talk about next steps. Y'know, what you're comfortable with and what you're not."

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"Well....we seem to have a comfort level. We snog, mess around a bit. But I wanted to see how you feel about anything more," he said. "And I don't want this to feel like I'm pressuring you, I want to know so I don't overstep."

You could feel your cheeks heating up. Talking about sex in any context made you feel a bit flustered. At least Fred was being polite about it.

"Uhm...well...I'm not sure," you answered. "It feels like a big step."

"I know, birdie," Fred said, his hand moving to your back to rub soothing circles. "There's no rush. I want us to be able to talk about these things if we're going to keep seeing each other."

"Right..." you said, still feeling a bit sheepish. "I just...Adrian and I had sex, but that was only after he said that he loved me. I'm not sure that I'm made for casual hookups like some other people are."

"And that's absolutely okay," Fred replied. "I don't need to shag to know how much I like you."

You looked up at Fred. He was staring at you with those soft eyes again. His patience and willingness to communicate only made him more attractive to you. 

You put your hands on either side of his face, standing on your toes to kiss him. His hands found your waist, pulling you in as close as possible.

Your kisses were sweet, and it felt like Fred was reassuring you that he didn't just see you as a shag. His feelings were genuine and his intentions were pure. Well....pure might not be the best word, but his intentions were good.

Your hands found their way down to his shirt collar, and you tugged at it. You pulled him back towards his bed, pushing him back onto it. You straddled him like you had the very first time you were in his dormitory. 

He kept kissing you, his hands wandering up your thighs. Everywhere he touched felt like an electric shock, and you were dying for more. 

"Freddie?" you said, interrupting your make out session.

"Yes?" he replied, a tad breathless. 

"I need you to eat me out," you commanded, looking him dead in the eye.

Fred smirked. "Your wish is my command, birdie."

He flipped you on your back, propping your head up on his pillows. He resumed kissing you, biting at your lower lip while his hands gripped at your thighs.

Fred worked his way down, undoing your tie and unbuttoning your shirt in what felt like seconds. Your cheeks flushed as he took in your light pink bra. You hadn't considered that Fred would see you bra when you put it on this morning, otherwise you would have chosen something different. 

"Pink? I love it," Fred commented with a smirk. He kissed along your collarbones and down to your chest, leaving a love bite between your boobs. 

He made his way down to the top of your skirt. "I think the skirt is going to stay on this time."

His words were enough to make you want to clench your thighs together. He could feel your body tensing in desperation, so he graciously positioned himself between your legs.

Fred kissed along your thighs all the way down to your knickers. His fingers played at the waistband.

"You still want this?" he asked.

"Please Freddie," you whined.

He pulled your panties down your legs, tossing them onto the floor next to the bed. He worked your skirt up just a bit so he could see what he was doing.

Fred's tongue darted out, teasing you. You almost yelped, gripping onto the sheets to try to keep it together. You were so desperate for him that it felt embarrassing. 

His tongue worked around your clit, purposefully avoiding where you wanted him most. He loved the whimpers that were coming out of your mouth. He knew exactly how desperate you were. 

Fred squeezed your thigh with one hand and brought the other to your clit, rubbing circles with his thumb. His tongue worked its way down to your entrance, and your back arched off of the bed in response.

"You like that, darling?" he asked, pausing for a moment.

You only nodded in response, unable to get any words to come out. Fred resumed, his thumb playing with your clit and his mouth teasing your entrance. 

He pulled his mouth off of you, dragging a long pointer finger down to your entrance. 

"Is this okay?" he asked before going any further.

"Yes. Please," you answered, burning for his touch.

Fred's finger teased along your entrance before finally pushing it into you, a whine escaping your mouth. He worked it in and out slowly, kissing your thighs and leaving love bites.

"More please," you begged, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach.

Fred obliged, plunging another long finger into you. He picked up the pace, and you were rocking back and forth to meet his fingers. 

A number of profanities fell from your lips as you chased your release. Fred was admiring the sight in front of him, relishing in finally having his fingers inside of you.

"Such a good girl for me," Fred murmured. "So gorgeous like this."

You moaned in response, so close to your release. Fred's fingers had found the trigger spot inside of you, and he pounded against it again and again. 

You finally finished, your back arching off of the bed. Fred slowed his fingers, working you down from your high. He kissed the inside of your thigh.

"Fuck, you're perfect," Fred commented, admiring your form as you tried to catch your breath. 

He kissed a trail down your thigh, nipping at your hip bones. He left another love bite just above your hip bone. He loved marking you up, and secretly, you loved it too. His marks were nothing that you couldn't conceal with a glamor charm when needed.

Fred returned to your center, licking a stripe from your entrance up to your clit. You groaned at the overstimulation.

"Think you have another one in you?" Fred asked, massaging your thighs with his hands.

"You're going to be the death of me," you replied, ruffling his hair with your hand.

"That sounds like a yes to me," he smirked, placing one more kiss on your thigh before returning his attention to your clit.

He alternated between sucking on it and playing with it with his tongue, driving you absolutely mad. Your nails dug into his scalp, urging him for more.

"Fuck Freddie," you whined. 

You pulled at his hair, causing him to groan into you. Your hips started to buck up to meet his mouth, trembling at how sensitive you were after your first orgasm.

Fred was determined to make you finish again. One of his hands wandered up to your chest, sneaking under your bra. He pinched and played with your nipple, forcing moans and whimpers out of your mouth. 

"Freddie...so close," you breathed out, struggling to form words. 

Ten more seconds was all you needed to find your second release, trembling and whimpering as you finished. You panted in disbelief at the boy who was able to get you to finish twice. You had a hard enough time finishing once.

Fred kissed along your stomach, working his way back up to your mouth. He finally kissed you on the lips, and you gripped at his hair to pull him even closer.

He pulled back, grinning at you. "Good?" he asked. 

"Don't even," you slapped at his shoulder, giggling at him. 

His head came down to rest on your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair, placing a kiss on the top of his head. 

"I want to take you out on a date," he stated, nuzzling further into the crook of your neck.

"Where?" you asked, still playing with his hair.

"There's a Hogsmeade trip this weekend, how about then?" he said, picking up his head to look at you.

"I'll have to think about it," you replied.

"You are going, right?" he asked, sounding almost confused.

"Yes," you answered. Not a single Hogwarts student would want to miss out on a trip to Hogsmeade. Not even you. 

"Then why not?" he asked, pushing the issue.

You readjusted so you could sit up. Fred sat up too, putting his back against the wall behind his bed. 

"I haven't told all of my friends about you yet," you admitted. "Spending time together at Hogsmeade would make us look like...well, a couple."

"And you have a problem with that?" he pressed on, sounding a bit hurt. 

"No, well....I just like how things are now. It's private. It's just you and I without other people getting into our business," you said with a shrug. 

"So you don't want people to know that you've been seeing me," he stated, turning his head so he wouldn't have to look at you.

"No, Fred," you replied, reaching for his hand. He pulled it away. "I'm just not sure that I'm ready for something so public after Adrian. I need a bit more time."

"You're willing to sneak around and hook up in my dormitory but you can't be seen with me at Hogsmeade?" he said, now very clearly upset. 

"Fred...." you trailed off, trying to find something to say. You agreed, it did sound that way. But you just weren't quite ready for a public commitment. The whole school would be buzzing, and you liked to remain out of the spotlight when it came to gossip. 

"Please, just go," Fred said, still refusing to look at you. You sat there frozen for a minute, absorbing his words. You quickly dressed yourself, pulling your robes on and grabbing your back pack.

You headed for the door, turning over your shoulder before you left. "I'm sorry, Fred," was all you could say before turning the knob and walking out.

----

Next part

[wishful-seeker]

I think some people don't realize some of us HAVE to be chronically online unfortunately, especially if we are bedridden or housebound due to illness. Obviously this isn't great for many reasons, and I've definitely fallen into the habit of rotting my brain with 7 second reels or ending up in really petty online arguments because i have nothing else to do. Just try to take care of yourselves, maybe you have to be chronically online, but maybe you can look out a window for a few minutes, or actively not read comments you know will upset you, or maybe make an effort to take a break from watching reels or tiktoks every few hours. Its incredibly difficult to have an occupied life when you're stuck in bed or at home. Personally I've found eating or being on my phone while also outside helps, writing/journaling in the notes on your phone, rewatching a loved tv show instead of interacting on online discourse or watching mind numbing dopamine hit reels over and over. Anyways, i know its difficult and you aren't bad for being chronically online especially when you really don't have much of a choice, just try to be gentle with how you treat yourself and consume media these days. I frequently take breaks from Instagram and tiktok, i think i haven't used them in about 2 weeks right now. Its also helpful to find safe spaces online. I consider tumblr a much more tame and healthier media for myself to consume because there isn't much fighting and just more wholesome random info everywhere. It also helps to text/call friends, reconnect with them online, ect. I hope my fellow chronically online people have a nice internet day.

[smuttysabina]

COMM: Lisa gets Dommy-Mommyed

(Girl-Cock Celine x Lisa, 3.3k Words) Tags: OTV & BlackPink Collaboration, Not what I thought my first streamer x idol smut would be but here we are lol, Girl-Cock, Anal Oral Vaginal Sex, Dommy Mommy Celine, Multiple creampies, Unexpected voyeurism, Bathroom sex, Some cum play, Implied Impregnation

A coterie of girls relax in the restaurant booth, all of them chattering amiably about the concert they had gone to that night. All of them had enjoyed themselves immensely; after all, Blackpink were known for putting on a show, and they had not disappointed. The rather messy orgy that had occurred onstage had really only enhanced the performance's appeal, and the girls were more than a touch aroused by what they saw. The bustiest of the group politely excuses herself as the other girls go into the naughty details of what they had seen (watching Jennie taking five guys at once had been particularly impressive), and makes for the bathroom, discreetely covering her crotch. The next booth over, amusingly enough, the topics of discussion for the girls were themselves relaxing, though their discussion was far more pointed...

"...Oh please," the richly tanned Lisa was grumbling, "you're just making a big deal out of it because your brother doesn't want to fuck you." Jisoo sputters in outrage while Jennie and Rose snort into their drinks, "You fucking whore! Maybe I just don't want to do weird shit like you do!" Lisa rolls her eyes and sighs, "Whatever, I'm going to go piss, I swallowed so much cum I feel like my tummy is going to burst," and with that she squeezes out of the booth, leaving behind a stinking puddle that seeps slowly into the seat. Typical.

Celine, known to her adoring viewers as StarSmitten, had a problem, a surprisingly girthy problem, bulging from her crotch. She clamps one hand over her mouth, her bountiful breasts heaving as she struggles to contain her moans while she strokes her throbbing girl-cock. The only other bathroom stall had been occupied soon after Celine had entered, and whoever was inside of it was busily taking the messiest dump she had ever heard. The disgusting sputtering had at least provided her with an excellent cover to disguise the noise of her masturbating, but with pre-cum beading from her tip, she knew she would soon be wailing with pleasure when she climaxed. But now the din has died down, as Celine's neighbor groans with release and starts to clean up, even while the poor streamer is on the edge of painting the stall door with her semen. A sudden silence falls, as both girls grow quiet, their ears straining as they listen suspiciously to each other, one of them worried she had been caught, the other...

Lisa sniffs the scented air of the bathroom once more, certain that she had caught the scent of sex. The reeking contents of the bowl beneath her was not helping in the slightest, though after having several gallons of semen pumped into her guts, the resulting mess was going to be unpleasant no matter the situation. Lisa's brain soon filters out the foul stench, and once more she smells the distinct tang of freshly spilt sexual fluids; which meant that her neighbor was indulging themselves a little bit too much. A broad smile slashes across Lisa's face, having some fun in here would be much more preferable than dealing with Jisoo's puritanical ranting. She smoothly hops onto the toilet, using it to boost herself up to get a peek at whoever's masturbation session she was about to interrupt, and is mildly surprised by what she finds. A remarkably busty girl stared up at Lisa in shock, her tits on full display, her hands unable to stop stroking one of the largest cocks Lisa had seen that night. Both of them open their mouths, but before either can say anything, the girl suddenly moans as a rope of cum erupts from her cock, painting Lisa's bemused face with a thick ream of jizz. Delightful.

Celine is blubbering as she fumbles open the stall, only for Lisa to shove the door open, pushing Celine back into it before slamming the flimsy door shut and locking it. The idol wears a nasty smile as she licks the sticky cum off of her lips, as Celine's eyes widen once she realizes who's face exactly she had just unloaded all over, and she gasps out a stuttering apology that is only silenced when Lisa kisses her. The streamer moans as the taste of her own semen fills her mouth, unable to resist as her mind reels from the stupefying fact that one of her favorite idols was busy forcing her cum-slathered tongue down her throat. When Lisa breaks off the kiss, Celine is left dazed and more than a little aroused, "Lisa..." Celine groans, "Me!" Lisa agrees happily, idly groping her, "What, why are you here?" Celine sputters, "Does it really matter?" Lisa rolls her eyes, "I think we have better things to do than worry about the details," she runs a hand along Celine's bulging erection, "Bigger things..." Celine shudders as lust burns through her habitual shyness, urging her to take advantage of the unexpected interruption of her masturbation session by a beautiful and willing girl. Even if it was Lalisa Manoban.

Hesitantly at first, but with growing confidence, Celine guides Lisa downwards to her knees onto the cool tiles of the floor, panting as her cock throbs against Lisa's pretty face. The idol playfully licks the sizable meat resting on her face, before slightly cocking her head, "I usually don't bother asking, but what's your name? I get the feeling we might be here for a while..." Celine pauses as she considers her answer, but some boldness within her makes her say, "Mommy, Celine," Celine breathes, and Lisa smirks in expectation, "Well then, Mommy, I've been a baaad girl..." Any restraint Celine still has snaps and she grabs the idol's head before shoving her wide cockhead into Lisa's waiting mouth, forcing her dick down her throat. Celine was sure that Lisa's oral techniques were superb, but at this point she was only able to think about pumping one of her rather pent-up loads into one of the idol's warm holes. Lisa gags enthusiastically as the streamer uses her mouth like disposable toy, Celine moaning uncontrollably as she works her repressed lusts from the Blackpink concert out on one of its main instigators, "You freaking slut, I was so hard the entire concert, I nearly fucked Aria watching you getting gangbanged!" Her weighty balls slap against Lisa's chin as her pace increases, "Oh god, oh god I'm going to cum in Lisa!" Celine cries out as she forces her cock as deep as possible down the idol's throat, shaking as she dumps her seed directly into Lisa's stomach while she squirms from want of oxygen.

Celine only relents when her orgasm fades, and she hurriedly pulls out to allow Lisa to gasp for air, coughing wetly as cum splatters onto her petite breasts. She looks coyly up at Celine, "Thank you Mommy, can I have some more?" she glances meaningfully down at her bared slit... Moments later Lisa has her back against the stall, her hips thrust outwards as Celine gorges upon her pussy, lovingly eating out her idol with cock stiffly at attention. Lisa groans with pleasure, holding the girl's head against her crotch, reveling in her slow but steady worship; women were always so much better at foreplay. The idol quivers as she climaxes, squirt running down Celine's chin as she drinks down Lisa's stinking juices like it was the sweetest nectar; and when the two kiss once more, their sexual fluids mix in their mouths. Drool connects their tongues when they break off the kiss, with Celine humping Lisa's toned stomach in anticipation of what was to come. "Oh Mommy, please! I need it so bad!" Lisa begs demurely, as Celine lifts up her leg to allow her sizeable cock access to the sweetness between her thighs. Lisa's eyebrows raise as inch after inch of girthy cock slides into her belly, making it bulge noticeably as it stretches her experienced cunt out; it wasn't the largest cock she had taken, but it was far bigger than most.

Lisa wraps her arms around Celine's neck as the latter pumps furiously between her sweaty thighs, both of them flushed from the passion of their sex. Fluids splatter onto the tiles beneath them from their messy coupling, with Celine's cock leaking copiously from the stimulation of Lisa's superior cunt. The idol's pussy was sopping wet, expertly squeezing and relaxing in time with every thrust, warming her shaft with its burning heat; only Pokimane's goddess-like pussy could compare. Celine pants as fucks Lisa, every motion sending more squirt leaking down her swaying balls, staring deep into her partner's eyes even as she rearranges her insides. Her soft, pale body presses itself against Lisa's much darker and leaner form, squishing it against the hard plastic of the stall, leaving her no room to escape even if she wanted to. The pair talk dirty as they mate, their sex talk swiftly going from naughty to downright depraved, as Lisa urges Celine to slake her nastiest fantasies using her nubile body. The wall of the bathroom stall rattles as the busty streamer tries to ram the limber idol through it, their erect nipples stabbing into each other's breasts with every thrust. Lisa feels Celine's orgasm before she can, the tightening of the balls and the pulsating shaft informing Lisa of her incoming insemination, "Give it to me Mommy!" she squeals, wrapping her legs around Celine's waist, "Give me your babies!" Celine groans as Lisa's words send her over the edge, she was going to knock up Lalisa and put a baby in her belly; and after a few powerful thrusts, she creampies Lisa's drooling pussy.

The pair shudder against one another as their dueling climaxes stimulate each other's genitals, until they both recover enough to resume their passionate make-out session. "Good girl," Celine croons between kisses, and Lisa preens at her praise, she was thoroughly enjoying her submission to this girl-cock wielding Mommy; she hadn't been mothered this hard since she had gotten spit-roasted by Jihyo and Momo. Celine suddenly grabs Lisa's leg and uses it to spin her around on her cock, a maneuver only made possible by Lisa's superb flexibility, but when it is over Lisa finds herself with her chest pressed up against the wall. The narrowness of the stall made doggy style impractical though, so Celine turns the idol about and forces her against the stall-door, before starting to plow Lisa from behind. Lisa moans loudly as she gets fucked, she loves it rough and nasty, so she was hardly going to complain about heading to round two before Celine's semen had even dried. The loud clapping of their flesh reverberates around the bathroom, and if anything the stall door makes as much noise as the stall wall. The sexual cacophony comes to a screeching halt however as the door to the bathroom suddenly creaks open, and the pair stop, panting quietly as their sexual fluids drip down onto the floor.

Someone walks into the bathroom before pausing in front of the pair's shared stall, rustling with their clothes before softly calling out, "Um Celine? I can smell what you're doing, do you need some... help?" Celine's eyes widen with shock, she had been gone for so long that Pokimane had come looking for her! And now here she was, balls deep inside of Lisa with two loads already roiling inside of her petite body. The idol in question noticed her lover's embarrassment, and decided to make the situation worse by being a naughty girl. Lisa stands up straight to allow for clearance, and shamelessly pulls the door open, revealing to whichever of Celine's friends it was that her girl cock was currently occupied. She raises her eyebrows in surprise as she stares at the curvaceous girl waiting in front of the stall, her pants already around her ankles in anticipation, her shirt and bra pulled up to reveal her impressive cleavage. Lisa smirks smugly at the shocked Poki, "Sorry, Celine is in use right now," "Oh! My god!" Poki sputters, "Wait Celine is that... from the concert?" Celine moans, utterly mortified that her dear friend had caught her in the act, her natural shyness overcoming her. Rolling her eyes, Lisa slams the door shut again in Poki's face before leaning against it once more, proactively moving her hips to get the streamer's attention back. "Cmon, Mommy," she purrs, "I'm so sorry your friend saw you, it must be sooo embarrassing..."

Her chagrin artfully diverted, Celine gets work plowing the sluttiness out of Lisa, her worry about Pokimane hearing her having sex fading with every thrust. The stall door rattles violently as Lisa gets fucked up against it, Celine leaning down to press her sizable bust against Lisa's back, squishing her into submission with her weight. Lisa's cunt makes disgustingly sloppy noises as the two blobs of soft warmth stick to her back, she had always had a weakness for large breasts, probably due to sleeping with Jihyo all the time, and with her girl-cock pounding her weak spot, Celine was driving Lisa wild. Loud squelching noises from the other side of the door indicate that the pair's unexpected guest was enjoying herself as well, and Lisa unabashedly howls as her squirt sprays onto the floor. Something else splatters onto the tiles, and the idol smiles as she smells the stench of another woman's squirt; cucking other bitches was such fun. But now the excitement of having a voyeur was starting to get to Celine and her thrusting took on a fresh energy, Lisa's petite cheeks glowing a rosy red as Celine's crotch slams against them again and again. She moans loudly as pleasure washes through her shaft and up into her body, hugging Lisa tightly against her as she pumps the idol's already clogged cunt full of yet more thick coils of semen. Lisa gurgles happily as warmth spreads through her belly once more, she could get used to this...

Celine sprawls back against the toilet, sighing with pleasure as Lisa sucks on her heaving breasts, while her hand busies itself stroking Celine's cock back to its full length. Lisa takes her time suckling on her Mommy's engorged nipples, her tongue lavishing each of them with attention as pre-cum drools down Celine's twitching womanhood. Pokimane meanwhile had ensconced herself in the stall next to theirs, and was noisily adding her own fluids to the putrid mess still steaming in the toilet. Her face flushed with arousal, Celine gives Lisa's ass an emphatic slap, "Sit on it," she orders huskily, "Use your ass this time," and Lisa happily obeys. She stands above the streamers upraised cock, before slowly sitting on the tip, before demurely pausing, her anus tightly gripping just under the head, "Mommy, you're too big..." Lisa simpers, "I don't know if I can take it all! Celine's delicate hands grasp the idol's waist, and steadily forces her down onto her dick, reassuring Lisa the whole way down, "Good girl," she coos as Lisa takes it to the hilt, her cock throbbing with the petite idol's guts, "now ride it for Mommy..."

Lisa complies with gusto, her initially hesitant grinding giving way to her naturally skillful technique as her own lust spurs her to abandon her bashful playacting. Celine's girl-cock spasms as it is massaged by Lisa's sloppy innards, her guts squeezing every inch of it as it slithers in and out of her ass; masterfully pleasuring it until it is on the brink of eruption. Using Celine's tits as handles, Lisa gives the streamer the best ride of her life, making a mockery of her past lovers' most enthusiastic efforts as Lisa tries to milk her of every last drop. Celine groans once more, holding onto Lisa's waist for dear life as her load spews into Lisa's asshole, who does not relent even for a moment as she rides Celine's orgasm out. She only slows once the streamer's cock stops pulsating, languidly standing back up to allow Celine's load to leak back down onto her glistening shaft. Celine lay back, utterly exhausted by Lisa's voracious asshole, still shocked by how thoroughly it had drained her. Lisa cuddles up against her, squishing her body against Celine's comfortingly as she daintily sucks on her neck; she was enjoying the downtime as much as the sex.

The bathroom door clangs open once more, causing everyone to start in surprise, as someone new stalks into the humid room. The girl sniffs loudly before sighing, "Are you done getting fucked yet, Lisa? I kind of have to piss." Lisa giggles from her resting place atop Celine's bodice, "Sorry Rose, I'm still busy in here!" Rose grumbles before kicking off her shoes, "Whatever, I'll just use the sink them, again," she groans with release as liquid hisses into the bowl, "Oh, and take your time, Jennie is busy fucking her way through the staff, and there were some sluts next to us that I've been training. We should be finished in an hour though so hurry it up!" The noise dies down and Rose hops back down onto the tile, slipping her shoes back on as she walks out. "See you in an hour!" Lisa calls at her as she leaves, before beaming at Celine, "So, want to make me late?" Celine blushes shyly, suddenly modest once more following her colossal orgasm, "Oh! Um, I guess- but I don't know if..." she looks embarrassingly down towards her crotch, where her noticeably flaccid girl-cock was sticking to Lisa's thigh. With a patient smile, Lisa slips down between the streamer's legs, and gets to work sucking some life back into her member. Celine moans and squeaks as the idol works her magic, the jumps in surprise as Lisa slides a finger into her ass, curling it up to massage her prostate. Which was more than enough stimulation to make Celine erect once more, but not enough to reignite her dominating fire. Lisa smirks knowingly up at Celine, "I'm ovulating remember...?"

A minute later and Lisa was on her back on the cold tiles, Celine pumping furiously between her thighs as she plows her into the filthy floor. Lisa's legs kick at the the plastic walls as she gets fucked in the cramped confines of the stall, her slutty cunt already painting the streamer's belly with squirt. "Oh Mommy," she moans loudly, "you can't knock me up in my ass!" But Celine does not relent, grunting as she proves her dominance of Lisa's greedy asshole by pounding it out of shape and flooding it with her cum. Only then does she push her cock into Lisa's inviting pussy, leaving the idol's anus gaping and leaking curdles of semen. The steady slap of flesh fills the bathroom once more as Celine mating presses Lisa, squishing her breasts against the smaller girl as she does her best to breed her fertile cunt. Lisa squeals as she climaxes once more, "Break me Mommy, break me!"

Three hours later Lisa saunters out of the bathroom, her holes gushing semen down her thighs, and rejoins the rest of Blackpink around the table. She had left Celine sprawled in a puddle of their conjoined juices, leaving her Mommy with just enough energy for her frustrated friend to get a load or two out of her; impregnation always got those cock-havers riled up. Lisa beams happily at the other girls, all of whom were equally naked and covered in sexual fluids, "Sorry it took so long! Is everyone ready to go?" The other members of Blackpink roll their eyes, getting up and leaving a hefty tip to pay for the damages. The four of them continue their bickering where it left off as they wind their way through the overturned tables and chairs, picking their way through the piles of pants-less bodies and puddles of cum.

Was it really a Blackpink event if it didn't end in an orgy?

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Against the wall

05/24/2024

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,917

Warnings: rpf, alcohol, pining, naughty thoughts, fluff

Summary: Sometimes all it takes is a room full of people to figure out you want nothing more than to be alone with that one person.

A/N: Guys, this was written in a fevered frenzy. Haven't felt the muse in months and don't know whether she did a good job, but I am so happy she is not dead.

Picture is a screen cap from this video

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

If you enjoy my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. No permission is given to copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

She had forgotten how much she loathed being in a room full of people. Maybe it was a condition that came with age, to appreciate silence and solitude, or maybe, just maybe, it was entirely his fault. 

Her back leaning against the wall, his hand was splayed out right next to her head, supporting the weight of his body as he leant in slightly so he could focus on her voice above the noise of the bustling room. He had never been this close to her, so close she could smell the intoxication scent of his body, and in an instant the chatter was drowned out by the wild drum of her heart, which in turn made it one of the most challenging tasks she had ever had to face to string her words together into meaningful sentences. 

But it seemed she had somehow succeeded, against all odds, as he turned his head to look at her, his face so close now that she could feel the heat of his breath on her face. And as if that had not been enough to clear every coherent thought from her head, he chose to turn his lips up into the most dazzling smile upon her silly joke. 

It made her dizzy, combined with the sparkle in his eyes it was an almost deadly combination, impossible to resist. It had captured her completely. He had captured her completely, occupied her every thought in a way that was bordering on concerning, for her sanity, maybe even for the idea of feminism she lived by, but even more so for the very essence of her existence. 

She had seen it all so clearly, a happy future, no one to bother her, especially no man to cause her even more worries than she already had. Just her, the path in front of her clearly mapped out. And then he had crossed her way, and it had dawned on her that what she had deemed the perfect life would seem like nothing but a cheap substitute next to a life with him. Certainly, she could still be happy without him—if she needed to. 

The problem was, she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to live a life without the sound of his laughter, without his twisted sense of humour and the way he looked at her when they were engaged in a conversation, as if there was no one else in this world, as if it was only him and her. He made her feel secure in a way no one ever had. When he entered the room, she could feel her shoulders relax, her breath going more easily and the galloping of her heart slowing in pace. And when she talked to him, it was as if she had never done anything else in her entire life. There was nothing of the usual unease or urge to appeal between them that might, under different circumstances or with a different man, lead her to a point at which she had either moulded herself into a completely different person or where everything meaningful she had wanted to say and that had been phrased so clearly in her head became lost somewhere on the way from her brain to her mouth. With him though, she could just be herself, safe in the knowledge that he would not judge or tire of her at some point. 

If only she knew with the same certainty if he felt the same. Obviously he did enjoy talking to her as well, or he wouldn’t be standing here right now, choosing to talk to her when he had a room full of people to choose from. But did he also hang on her lips like she did on his? Did he also wonder if they were just as soft as he imagined them to be? And would he like her to step closer, or pull him closer to her instead? And when her hand rested against his chest then, would she feel the same thunderous beat that drummed behind her own ribs? Would it start to flutter as soon as their lips met and refuse to fall back into its regular rhythm until their bodies lay sweaty and spent, their desire finally sated? And in their blissed out state, would he hold her? Would he pull her that impossible inch closer and press the softest of kisses to her forehead, telling her all she needed to know without uttering a single word? Would he still be there in the morning to see her tousled hair and sleep-wrinkled face and look at her with the same affection she thought to find in his gaze right now? Would he—

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” His back still turned on the intruder, he gave her the most dramatic roll of his eyes she had ever seen, making it very hard for her to hide a snicker. “Come, there is someone I need you to meet.”

She wanted to protest, wanted to do whatever it took to keep him close, but before her brain had even been able to form a protest, he was being dragged away from her, his lips forming a silent apology. 

This social engagement was tedious. The thought came as somewhat of a surprise to him. There had been a time when he had truly enjoyed this kind of event, but tonight something just was not right about this party. Well, not ‘something’ as in an unknown factor that made this party different from other parties. It was not unknown to him at all. In fact, this evening had been perfectly enjoyable up until that moment he had been so rudely separated from her. 

She was still leaning casually against that wall, the only difference being that he was too far away from her now. To be fair, any distance that exceeded an arm’s length was too far for his taste. She on the other hand did not seem to mind his absence much, as someone else had already taken his place by her side to engage her in what appeared to be a most entertaining conversation. Not one glance did she spare him, while all he could focus on was the ludicrous attempt to will himself back into his old position, close to her. So close that her breath would waft across his neck again as she spoke, the heat of her body crawling over his skin. Maybe her hand would find him by accident—or intentionally, which would be all the better. After a moment he would return the favour, finally giving in to his longing to feel the smoothness of her skin against his fingertips.

Instead all he could feel was his mouth opening as she brought the glass to her lips and took a sip of champagne. Would he be able to taste it on her tongue if she allowed him to kiss her? He almost hoped he would not be, because what he really desired to taste was her, the exquisite, singular flavour only she possessed. 

And still, that would not nearly be enough to sate his hunger. He wanted to taste all of her. Her lips, her skin, the moist heat at the apex of her thighs. He wanted her so much he could feel his mouth drying up upon the ardor of his wish, no, need for her.

What would it be like to have her? He had imagined it a thousand times over and yet there were so many questions still left unanswered. Would she voice her pleasure or enjoy in silence? Was it her wish to be the director of their passion play or did she want him to lead the way? Would his name glide over her lips in a soft moan or would she scream in ecstasy when they had finally reached the peak? Would she stay serious, caught up in desire, all the way through or would there be giggles and laughter? And what then, after they had given themselves to each other completely? Would she leave, seeing this as an experience best enjoyed once only? Or would she stay, her naked body resting against his in peaceful slumber, and allow real intimacy to begin? 

If it were his choice to make, he would know exactly what to choose. But he could not blame her if she opted for something different. Commitment was tough, and there had been times when he had thought that he, like so many others, was simply not built for it. But watching her now, he could not recall how he had ever been this blind about himself in the first place. 

It had been strange at first, that sense of belonging that always befell him when she was around, completely unexpected. But ever since he had felt it for the first time and realised its true meaning, it was as if he had discovered a law of nature, complex and yet so easy to understand, as if it had always been an inherent part of him.

Once again, the dryness he had felt earlier returned to his mouth, more demanding this time, until it had managed to push every other thought aside for a moment. Instinctively he set the glass to his lips, his eyes not once leaving her until he had lifted the bottom high enough to block his view. It had only been for the blink of an eye, but now he found himself almost choking on his final gulp when his eyes returned to find her spot against the wall empty all of a sudden.

Leaving without a goodbye was childish, she knew, but she just could not shake this nagging feeling that had befallen her out of the blue, that being in the same room with him without talking  to him or being able to at least be near him without looking as if she was running after him like a duckling was far worse than not being here at all. 

With a sigh she set down the glass on an empty table she passed on her way to the exit. What a waste, as it was almost half-full, but somehow it did not taste quite right, and so she left the rest of her drink behind, like the dream that she would ever be to him what he was to her. 

It was dark as she entered the hallway and the air felt uncomfortably cool in contrast to the air inside that had been heated by all those bodies. Their chatter was still following her now, echoing from the walls left and right. 

It must have obscured the noise of his steps, or maybe they had not made any sound at all. Otherwise she would have recognised their rhythm from a mile away. But instead, she only realised that he was there as his warm hand closed around her wrist and gently brought her to a stop. And despite the fact that she had halted her steps almost instantly, she had not expected him to be this close now as she turned, so close that she could see the startled expression of her eyes reflected in his own. So dark, so green. 

He did not utter a single word. He did not have to. She knew when his grip on her loosened and his fingers softly glided between hers. She smiled, and so did he. And then, slowly, they began to walk.

taglist:

@rosecentury

@lowkeysimpinloki

@fightmespideyboy

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Last Part

Word Count: 13.8k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 

Warnings: fem!reader, sub!gyu, dom!reader, dom!gyu, sub!reader, fingering, handjobs, missionary, doggy, mentions of previous noncon, yandere behaviour, violence, bodily harm, alienation

You still have the dreams, the memories, the torment. They never went away despite you trying your goddamn hardest. Your brain seems to conjure them up harder and more vividly the more you work to push them away. You don't know if Beomgyu knows this but he's beside you every possible second of every day, keeping you busy and helping to push it all away, or at least distract you from it. 

You've quit your job. Beomgyu isn't unreasonable. He will help you get another job, just as soon as you feel better. But not right now. You're not ready yet. You need rest and he makes sure you get it, devoting every second he's not at his job or getting you food and stuff you need to taking care of you.

He wanted you to move away, just pack your things and get away from this place that had brought you both such grief, but you couldn't go through with it. Not yet. You had freaked out when he suggested it, telling you it would do you good to get a fresh start and get away from Taehyun but you know he wouldn't be the only one you'd be getting away from. All your friends are here. Your family is here. And even though you're hardly seeing them right now, you know it wouldn't be right to completely uproot yourself from everything you've ever known except Beomgyu. Even though you'd promised to completely and fully devote yourself to only him, you know it can't be good for your already unstable mental state.

You tell him that you'd feel so terribly alone if you move away, especially when he goes to work. So he offers to quit his job to spend all his time with you, explaining that he has put aside some savings he could use for the time being but you still refuse. You tell him that you'd be horribly selfish to let him waste the little precious money he saved up just so he can babysit you but you don’t tell him about how much it scares you to cross that last boundary, to let him completely and utterly devour your entire life despite something at the bottom of your soul telling you to just give it to him.   

Beomgyu reassures you that he doesn’t mind. He wants to spend his money to make sure you're taken care of, but you still refuse. You stand your ground and hold onto the last shred of your life that is not his–for what? You don’t know–and he reluctantly lets it go, for now at least. 

Instead, he uses the time he does have with you to pamper you, feeding you breakfast in bed, getting you things to occupy your time while he's away, drawing baths for you when he gets home from work. It all feels so terribly familiar. The sense of deja vu choking you but Beomgyu is determined to mentally and physically push it all out of your mind and take its place instead. 

He only reads you happy poems and stories, only sings you cheerful love songs. You feel like he’s lulling you into a deep slumber. You're still where you've always been–your friends and family are still within reach, your old life is there to reclaim if you want to–but it's like he'd succeeded in putting a wall between you and the world just like he wanted, and it scares you that you can't tell if that is a good or bad thing. Maybe you should just give into him, fall into him and dissolve into his being until no one will ever be able to pull you apart again. 

You feel his fingers knead the skin of your shoulders as he sits behind you in the bathtub–once again using his free time after work to take care of you instead of giving himself a break after working hard all day. Bubbles and candles surround you, the calming scent of them permeating your brain like a drug, aided by the glass of wine in your hand, to lull you further into your slumber. You let out small hums of appreciation under Beomgyu's expert hands that seem to know you better than you know yourself. How does he know where exactly to touch to unwind a particular knot in your back or relieve a certain stress that has been nagging you for a while? All you have to do is sit there and sip your wine, letting the groggy feeling from the liquid combine with the blissful pleasure of Beomgyu's touch to submerge you deeper into a dreamy state that one day you may never wake up from. 

“There is this beach I was reading about online that I'd like to visit.” You tell him lazily and he chirps happily. He always gets so excited when you initiate any outings or dates to go on and it makes that familiar tender spot in your heart ache at how selfish you’re being. He tries so hard to make you happy and fill your life up with fun and exciting things to do to distract you from the loneliness, and yet you so rarely respond in kind. “Sure. Anything you want, my love.” 

You smile, hearing the relief in his voice, and you go on, a little more excitedly. “It's near that old medieval castle at the cliff top. It's very popular.” 

“Oh, that place.” His hands falter and you can feel a sudden strange chill in the air. “It's just an overrated touristy spot. I know plenty of other beaches that are better.”

You pout. You didn't expect his response. He is usually happy to do whatever you want and you had actually been looking forward to going to that particular beach for a while. “But I want to go there. The beach looks really nice and I thought I could even go explore that old abandoned castle with my prince.” You giggle, trying to crane your head back to send him a flirty look but the expression you find on his face wipes all hints of playfulness off yours.

“And I don't want to. Pick literally anywhere else.” His response is strangely irritated and you frown. You should probably drop it. He is right. There are plenty of nice beaches around. You don't have to go to that particular one. But something about his sharp refusal prompts you to dig more. Stupid girl. Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat? 

“Why do I need to when we can just go there?” You huff, tension creeping back into your shoulders. 

“I said no.” He rebuts with no explanation and your fiery temper sparks through the heavy fog that has been weighing on your brain. 

“Oh, you said no? Well then if Master says no then I guess that's the end of it.” You snap, your anger begging for you to let it catch fire.  

“Why are you being difficult? I thought you said you'd listen to me?” 

And just like it, he snuffs it all under his finger. You immediately shut down. How long is he going to hold that over your head? You've quit your job. You haven't spoken to Taehyun since then. You hardly see your friends. You stay home waiting for him like a dutiful little housewife. What more does he want from you? You know you've made a mistake. You know you promised to make it up to him and regain his trust, but surely asking to visit a stupid beach doesn't count as a potential breach of trust, does it? 

“Forget it.” You mumble, deflated. You were really looking forward to going there. The place looked super pretty online. It was one of the few places lately that have managed to get you excited at the prospect of visiting them. It held a certain vibrant draw to it when everything else seemed gray and dull in comparison. But you guess you can’t have even that.

You try to get out of the bath, no longer in the mood for intimate messages, but Beomgyu holds you back. Of course, he does. 

“Wait.” You hear Beomgyu sigh and let his hands drop to the water to circle around your waist and pull your body back against him, his lips kissing the junction between your neck and shoulder gently, apologetically. “I'm sorry, baby. I just have a bad feeling about that place. Can't you trust me on that?”

A bad feeling about the place? What the fuck does that mean? It’s just a beach, what could possibly go wrong there? 

Still, you hesitate. You didn’t think that anything could go wrong by being friends with Taehyun either and that Beomgyu was being overly jealous and paranoid but here you are. Maybe if you go there you'll fucking drown or something crazy like that.

You suppose you can give him that. You know if you had a bad feeling about a place, Beomgyu would not force you to go there. It probably wouldn’t be fun anyway if you make him go and he hates every second of it. You want to do something you both enjoy. 

But you really wanted to visit that place. Maybe you should go when he's at work… 

No. Just the idea of going out in public alone without Beomgyu makes you shudder. You can't handle being around people without Beomgyu's comforting presence to rely on. He's got you right where he wants you.

“Fine.” You say in a small voice, finally relenting. 

“Thank you, princess.” He sighs in relief and the tension in the air begins to dissipate once again. “I know you’re bored. I promise to take some time off work and take you on a nice vacation somewhere. How does that sound?”

“Okay.” You mumble unenthusiastically. 

“Come on. Cheer up.” He holds your jaw gently and turns you towards him, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that slowly turns sensual. 

“Beomgyu…” You whine into his mouth, the water shifting as you rub your thighs together. He will never not have an effect on you. You’re too weak for him. 

“I know, princess.” His hand drops between your legs, loosening you up. “I got you.”

His light touches are as strong as electric currents coursing through your veins, and before long, you find yourself squirming in his hold, pushing yourself closer to his touch while paradoxically trying to get away from the intense feeling at the same time. 

But he doesn’t let you. He throws his other arm over you, caging you into place as he takes a hold of your breasts, kneading them until your nipples have pebbled in need. 

“Baby…” You keen, pushing your breasts further into his hand, and crying out as he pulls one of your perked nipples between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Relax for me, baby.” He hums, holding you in place as he works his fingers inside you. It stings a bit as the water dilutes your arousal but he throws your legs on either edge of the tub to give him more space for his fingers to easily breach your hole, the heel of his palm working in tandem to bring you to the edge so scarily fast that you barely even register the sharp bite of his teeth on your neck as he zealously marks you. “Let me take care of you.” 

It’s a spell–a bid to get you to let go, and it’s so hard to not give in when he makes it feel so damn good. 

You're so exposed like this. Even though there is no one here to see you but Beomgyu, it feels like the whole universe is watching him spread you open to his satisfaction and no amount of faux demurity would fool the universe into believing you're not a willing participant in all of this. It's hard to care about your debauched display when your orgasm was heating you up from the inside so much you feel like you might spontaneously combust. Why is it always so intense with him? How does he do it so well? 

You may never know but what you do know is that your orgasm was rolling towards you like the water rolling over the edge of the tub, sharp and sudden, and when it reaches you it threatens to take you under. But Beomgyu holds your head above the water as his relentless fingers continue to fuck you until you yield to his will. You break apart under his touch, forgetting about everything except him in those few moments, forgetting about the beach, the castle, Taehyun and everything you've lost–the only thing registering in your mind is Beomgyu's touch, Beomgyu's smell, Beomgyu's warmth.  

“Beomgyu, Beomgyu, Beomgyu!” You cry as your whole body convulses in his arms, yet it doesn't slip from his hold for even a second, and when you finally come down from your quaking orgasm, you're still in his hold but half of the bath water had spilled over the edge, exposing your skin to the chilly room air–a stark contrast to the searing heat of Beomgyu’s hard cock pressing against you lower back as he tries to subtly jerk himself off against you, and it's your turn to hold him in the palm of your hand.

His quiet desperation brings even more memories to mind, memories of prince Beomgyu needily humping you in frantic attempt to get off, secret exclamations of desire and forbidden love whispered hotly on the skin of your neck or ears or breasts as he mounts you like a dog in heat in a way that he makes sure to tell you is not befitting the image of a prince like him. 

But when you turn around, it's your Beomgyu you see there, a regular college student on the surface, though nothing about him is regular. Is he really even your Beomgyu? The image of him in front of you shimmering and wavering between the Beomgyu you know and prince Beomgyu, and you're not sure which one is real anymore.

“You’re perfect.” He tries to reach out to you but you put his hands on either edge of the bathtub. “Keep those there.”

“Baby–” He starts to whine but shuts up when you grab his submerged cock and start jerking him off roughly. More water splashes out of the tub but neither of you care. He'll clean it up after anyway and you don’t even feel guilty about it. 

“Please, please.” He cries pathetically as if you're the one in control.

“Please what?” You ask curiously as if you're expecting him to suddenly reveal something that would make sense of the tangled mess you've made of him in your mind. 

“Anything.” 

You snort. “God, if someone is to see you like this they'd think I never touch you. You've been cumming every day, in my hand, my mouth, my ass, my cunt, on my face, my tits, my back…”

“It's not enough.” He shakes his head, looking delirious. “Never enough.”

“Well if it's not enough then what's the point of me doing this?” You taunt, going to pull your hand away from him but his own hands quickly fly out to grab yours and put it back on his cock as his whole body springs forward to get close to you as if he could glue his body to yours so you can't escape. “No! Please!”

“Get your hands off me.” You growl and he quickly puts his hands back on the tub's edge, trying to appease you so you wouldn’t deny him, but it’s not enough. He has to feel as helpless as he makes you feel and so you push him away roughly, his head almost hitting the ceramic as his back meets the wall of the tub. 

“You can't keep your hands to yourself, huh?” You purr, raising your free hand to his chest to play with his nipples, making his back arch and his fingers turn as white as the ceramic they're gripping onto while your other hand twists over his cock. 

“Sorry.”

God, you hate hearing that false word fall out of his mouth. You're pretty sure Beomgyu has never been sorry for anything in his life. 

“Are you?” You challenge, squeezing your hand around the head of his cock tightly. “Are you really sorry?” 

“Princess?” He cocks his head to the side innocently, as if he has no idea what you’re talking about. God, how he drives you crazy. “Please, I’ve been good.” 

Has he? You can’t tell anymore. He's poisoned your mind so much you can't think straight. 

You sigh, jerking him off fast, hard, knowing that the only thing that can soothe your troubled mind right now is watching your tormenter–your everything–fall apart in your grip just like he had done to you over and over again. And he doesn't disappoint. 

“Fuck! Oh, gods, I'm so close.” 

“Gods?” You laugh. That’s new. “I'm your only god, baby.”

“Yeah… only you.” He easily agrees with whatever you say, no thoughts behind his big adoring eyes, his body lying limp in the bathtub, only his hips moving to meet your fist everytime it goes down to smack against his pelvis. “Wanna cum for you. Worked so hard for it.”

“You did, didn't you?” You coo, one of your thumbs brushing against his hard nipples while the other teases the slit of his leaking cock. “Worked so hard to take care of me. Just need a little bit of attention in return, don't you?”

He nods eagerly, his lewd unabashed moans echoing all around the small bathroom as his high builds and builds, not daring to snap without your divine order. “Please, please…”

“Poor baby.” You tsk, looking at the man laid out before you and knowing in your heart of hearts that he was far from innocent. 

Rotten. That's the word that comes to mind when you look at him and you can't put your finger on why. But then why does he still look so beautiful to you? 

“Cum for me, love.”

“Yes! Thank you!” He cries out, his cum shooting out of his cock and immediately dispersing in the soapy water, tainting it like he's tainted you but you can’t get yourself to get away from it, the same way you can't get yourself to get away from him. You're rotten too now.  

“I love you so much.” He slurs as his body sinks into the water. 

“I know.” You do. It's the only thing you can be sure of anymore in the confusing mess that has become your life. That and “I love you too.”

___________________________

“Taehyun, what are you doing here? How did you get this address?” Your slow dreamy life comes into sudden disturbing focus when you see the one person you've been hiding from standing right outside your door. But your barrage of questions can't stop him from pushing past you into the apartment and back into your life. 

“I got your address from Yujin.” He explains once he's in and you look around in worry. He shouldn't be here. You'd barely managed to convince Beomgyu not to hurt him when he found out you had kissed him. What is he going to do if he finds him alone with you in the apartment while he's at work? You can't even let yourself think about it. It's too terrifying. You need to get him out. Why the fuck would Yunjun give him your address? Is she doing this to get back at Beomgyu? To get back at you? 

“Please leave. Beomgyu is going to lose his shit if he sees you.” You tell him as if that's not the understatement of the century. But Taehyun doesn’t appear to be phased. 

“I know. He is very dangerous. That's why I'm here.” He tells you, calmly acknowledging your statement that would have anyone else possibly running for the hills. “I have to tell you something. I think you were right. I think the dreams are memories.” 

You freeze in your spot, all thoughts of getting him out of here suddenly put on the backburner. What the hell is he saying? Has he gone crazy too?

You have secretly, shamefully, been harboring that rotten suspicion for a while now. The dreams just all felt too real to just be dreams. Nothing that vivid, that detailed, could just be the product of a slumbering mind, right? Besides, it didn't even stop at the dreams. You were having these “recollections” even while you're awake now, but you don’t dare believe them to be real memories because what would that mean for you? Best case scenario is that you've officially lost your mind and worst case scenario is that all of those dreams and images actually are real and Beomgyu really did all those awful things. You did all those awful things for him. 

“What makes you say that?” You gulp, asking cautiously. This feels like one of those moments that could forever change the trajectory of your life and maybe if you keep a cool safe distance away, you'd come out of this unscathed.

“I have been having more of them too. They have been plaguing my every sleeping moment, my every waking moment. They’re driving me insane–” He looks up at you and his expression almost knocks you off your feet. You know that look all too well. You see it in the mirror every day now. It’s the look of someone feeling themselves going mad and hoping that they really are because the alternative is just too cruel to consider–all the grief, all the blood, all the loss. No, it’s simply too much to bear, and you can hear the same torment you’re running from twisting his voice as he goes on. “Memories of us together… we were married in your dreams, right?”

His face is afflicted with an agony so raw it lashes against your skin in thick, bitter strokes that leave you gasping.  You never told him that. How did he know that? Okay, calm down. Breathe. This doesn't mean anything. He just had a lucky guess. Nothing more. 

“Yeah.” You admit slowly, watching him cautiously as if waiting for a further attack from him, and he doesn't disappoint. 

“You left me for him.” He says, an accusation in his voice that makes you falter. He is speaking to you as if he’s now fully convinced that the dreams are true, as if you really were married and you’d left him for Beomgyu. 

“No!” It feels strange defending something that a possibly fictional, possibly real version of you may have done because she's not you!--or is she? You didn’t leave him but you did. You don’t have to answer for her crimes but you feel compelled to try to anyway. “I thought I was saving you.”

But that just makes him angry, his fury so deep it couldn’t possibly have just been born today. It feels ancient, the edge of it sharpening over centuries. “Don't lie. That's not why you left.”

“It is. I swear. I just wanted to save you. I wanted to save everyone.” Your words sound insane even to your own ears but they're tumbling out of your mouth before you can even fully process them, again feeling compelled to defend yourself. You don’t even understand half of what you’re fighting about–your only aid in this battle are half-formed images of a fabled previous life you don’t want to remember.

“You’re lying to yourself.” He spits out bitterly, his visage taking on a hue that makes him look much older than he actually is–that makes him look like the Taehyun from your dreams, afflicted by loss and death and forced to grow up way too quickly. And here he is again, aging years in the blink of an eye. “You knew how crazy he was. You knew he wouldn't stop and you didn’t care. You just wanted to go back to him. You never fucking cared.”

“I didn't. I swear to god–” The way his conversation was heading brings a fresh wave of nauseating deja vu crashing onto you. You shake your head, trying to dispel whatever Folie a deux you both seem to have fallen victim to. You need to pull the plug on this insanity before you completely lose your mind. 

“Forget it. This is insane. Those memories aren't real. We're just working ourselves up into a frenzy. My brain has obviously sprung up all that shit out of my anxiety regarding me and Beomgyu's relationship, and after I told you about them, you started dreaming them up too.” You narrow your eyes at him as you attempt to rationalize your way through this mess, “Or you're taking advantage of my obvious mental instability to convince me to ditch my boyfriend to be with you.”

That must be it. It's the only explanation that makes sense and you try to hold onto it like a woman drowning, but Taehyun refuses to let you. 

“For fuck's sake, woman, wake up!” He grabs you by the shoulder and shakes you as if he could forcefully shake off the walls of denial you’ve been trying to build around yourself. “It's me. We've been reincarnated again for some sick reason and we're forced to relive everything we've done again, just in a different setting. Maybe it's a punishment. Maybe it's a test to see if we would choose differently. Choose right.”

“And the right choice is you?” You ask and he scoffs, looking affronted by the mere idea of there being a question about it. “It clearly isn't him. After all he's done to you. He imprisoned you. He raped you… He killed you.”

He looks as if he doesn't fully realize what he'd said until he’d said it, as if the returning memory was compelling his tongue to speak before it's been fully realized in his brain, and as the memory passes through him to you, you suddenly feel a sharp, piercing pain in your abdomen. It only lasts for a second but it draws the breath right out of you. For that second it feels like your soul is being carried away on that breath and you panic at the terrifyingly all too familiar sensation of dying. No. No. No.

But just as suddenly as that breath was exhaled, it was shoved back into your chest when Taehyun covers the phantom wound with his hand. Your own hands quickly clasp around his, and your eyes widen in a gruesome realization. 

“He killed our baby.” You whisper, your face suddenly wet with tears you didn't realize were there. Oh god. You're the dead ex-girlfriend, aren't you? There was never anyone else. It was always you.

“He did. He wasn’t going to let anyone have you if he couldn’t. Even your own child.” Taehyun says, allowing a painful melancholy back into his voice. “So he stole you from the world.” 

You and Taehyun slowly and fearfully piece together this traumatic past life you seemed to share, some details you had already recalled before while others were triggered by Taehyun’s own mad recollections. It's not a perfect story. There are many gaps in it but the main frame is enough. 

You were a Lady at Prince Beomgyu's royal palace. You loved each other but couldn't be together because he was betrothed to someone else, couldn't even tell eachother. But Beomgyu was secretly plotting to keep you bound to him, and it was working until Taehyun came into the picture and you developed an interest in each other. Beomgyu didn’t like that and he went crazy and… he hurt you. That pushed you to finally escape from him and marry Taehyun but your marriage wasn't perfect and Beomgyu took advantage of that. He threatened the lives of thousands, including Taehyun, if you didn’t go back to him. Taehyun told you not to but you did. You thought you'd be saving him and everyone else but you had just stupidly walked into Beomgyu's trap. He never intended to let Taehyun live. And when you finally realized your mistake, when you saw Taehyun's life on the line, you acted in a moment's frenzy to save him, plunging your knife right into Beomgyu's heart and ultimately succumbing to a fatal wound he dealt to you in response with a kiss and a promise that he'd find you again.

And he did. Gods help you, he did. 

It's a horrific story, disgusting, cruel, and you don’t want to believe it. It can't be. 

“We have to go. We have to leave before he comes back.” Taehyun pulls on your arm but you hesitate, automatically digging your heels on the ground and not letting him move you. He stares at you in shock. “You can't be serious? You're choosing him again after everything?”

You shake your head, panicking. “No, Taehyun–”

You want to tell him that you haven't chosen anything. You just don't know enough to make a decision. You still don't know if any of this is actually real or if you're both just mad. Even if your brain tells you it is, your heart tells you that it can't be true. This is ridiculous. Beomgyu loves you. He would never do this to you. And who is to say that he even knows any of this himself? What if he's just like you and Taehyun were at first, only feeling an inexplicable sense of love for you and hatred towards Taehyun that he doesn’t even understand the source of? Is that why he had been acting so irrational and scared to lose you? Because he has all these emotions he can't explain? 

And what about Taehyun? Yes, you had something maybe in a past life but does any of that translate into right now? Can you abandon Beomgyu and the real love you have for each other in order to build a relationship based just on memories of a previous life that ended tragically for all of you? Did that past Taehyun even love you?

You want to explain all of that to him but you don't even get the chance to before you're interrupted by the sound of keys turning in the front door's lock. 

Your eyes widen and fear grips your heart. Despite what you tell yourself about none of this being real, you suddenly fear for Taehyun's life. 

“Hide. Please, hide.” You try to tell him but he's not listening to you. He has no intention of hiding and you can see that when he grabs your hand and pulls you behind him roughly. 

When Beomgyu steps into the house and sees you, all doubt in your heart about the memories being false dash out of the room with the first word out of his mouth. 

“Again?” He asks coldly, viciously. “I knew from the moment you met him that this would happen. Even centuries later you can’t fucking help but act like a slut when he's around, huh?”

“You knew.” You croak, throat closing up to try to prevent that breath from escaping once again, fear shaking you to your core. “You always knew.”

You were too kind. Too stupid. He wasn't acting crazy because he loves you so much and was afraid of losing you. He wasn't acting crazy because he didn't understand his own feelings. He was acting crazy because he's done this before and he’ll be damned if he lets you ruin it again. 

"Of course I did. I have to find you every time.” 

“Every time?” The shaking spreads to your heart, weakening it, throwing off its rhythm. Your poor, naive heart that doesn’t know what to do with itself when the one person it loved and trusted in the world has been lying to it this whole time. “This happened more than once before?”

He laughs cruelly. “This, something else, the details differ but it's always us. Me and you.” He turns to Taehyun with rage that could hardly be contained in the small room. “Not him. I haven't seen him since that first time. The gods really wanted to piss me off this time.”

“Or maybe they wanted her to finally break free from you.” Taehyun's grip tightens around you–to hold you back or to protect you, you don’t know–something that Beomgyu doesn’t fail to notice, his upper lip curling in a snarl, clearly displeased that Taehyun even dares to touch you. But before he can act out on his rage, you speak up. 

“So what? We just keep getting reincarnated and reliving this misery over and over again?” You’re surprised he hears you when you can hardly hear yourself. 

“You do. Not me. I was only reincarnated once, right after we died. I spent many lifetimes in your tomb, mourning you. I thought that was what I was brought back for and I would've stayed there forever but I was drawn out by the gods who wanted me to realize they’ve sent you back again and again for me to find you. It's amusing to them, to see me suffer and lose you.” 

He knew from the beginning. He knew lifetimes ago and he lied to you from the start, made you feel crazy for having these dreams, tried to gaslight you into believing it was all in your head all while working to put distance between you and everyone else so he can have you all to himself. How long was he going to keep up the facade for? Is this what he did every time or does he always come up with new cruel and unusual ways to break you just like he did that very first time? 

“Why?” You ask lowly and he stares at you in confusion, not understanding the question so you gather up your strength and speak louder, more clearly. You need to finally get answers. “Does it ever work?” 

“Sometimes it does. For a little while anyway, before the gods decide we've had it good for too long and tear us apart again.” He scowls, blasphemously enraged at those mythically evil gods. “At first I thought they were giving us second chances but they're just laughing at us, watching us get together before ripping us apart like a child ripping the wings off a fly.”

“Then why let them? Why keep doing it?” You ask again and Beomgyu directs his anger at you. 

"Would you have been able to have all those memories of us, not just of our first life but every single one after, all these fragments of our infinity together and just ignore it and move on, just pretend like you don't know the other half of your soul is out there waiting for you to complete them?"

You shake your head. No. You've fallen for it before you'd even regained your memories. You can't imagine how brutal it is on him. God, to imagine him scouring the earth looking for you only to lose you again and again in horrific ways… it made your soul ache for him despite everything. 

"I have to keep trying. We were so close this time. We were fucking happy. I worked so hard to make everything perfect for us but you had to ruin it. You had to let him in.” He growls at Taehyun who was unimpressed with his entire confession. 

“If my mere existence was enough to ruin your happiness then maybe it wasn't real from the start.” He challenges, not letting you go for a second. He'd learned his lesson. His hold on you hurts, turns your hand cold and blue but you dare not protest. “You've lied to her, manipulated her and blinded her until she bowed to your twisted will and even then she was still struggling against you every step of the way. If you really loved her, you would let her go. I bet she was the most happy during those lifetimes when you were under the ground in her tomb where you belong. You killed her. You deserve to mourn her for eternity. You don't deserve to get a second chance with her.” 

“It doesn’t matter what I deserve. I know she wants to be with me, which is more than I could say about you.” Beomgyu’s face twists in a sadistic grin. “Despite everything, she still can’t live without me. You know, because you've tried to make her. She never loved you and it kills you to know it.” 

That works. Taehyun lets go of your hand and lunges at him. Beomgyu is on the ground before the scream leaves your tense throat. He didn’t stand a chance. You’ve seen Taehyun fight before, and Beomgyu–immortal being that he is–still is not able to weather the flurry of punches Taehyun’s trained fists are raining down at him. 

Taehyun pummels him to the ground right in front of your eyes and you can’t bear to see it. Yes, Beomgyu has hurt you. Yes, he has been lying to you and manipulating you all this time. Yes, he's done unthinkable things for you, to you, but you still can't just stand there and watch him get hurt. You're sick of all the pain. You want it to be different this time. Maybe that's the way to break free of this curse. 

You try to tear them apart but Taehyun is like an unstoppable force that has been dying to be unleashed. You cry and pull and plead but he doesn’t stop, slowly reducing the love of your life into a bloody, gory crime scene before your very eyes and you don't know what to do to stop him. 

It’s only when you see the glint of a knife as he pulls it out of his pocket that you’re able to finally do something to stop the carnage, and you throw yourself over Beomgyu in order to protect him. 

“Please!” You cry out, inconsolable. “Please, stop hurting him.”

Please, don’t take him from me again. You hear her sob from deep inside your soul, getting louder and louder by the second as she struggles to finally break through the rusty door of memory and time. 

“He has to die.” Taehyun growls, looking crazed. “He won't stop until he’s dead.”

No. No more death. That can’t be how it ends again. 

“I can't let you hurt him.” You sob, shielding Beomgyu with your life. You don’t know if this Taehyun would kill you–You don’t know if past Taehyun would’ve killed you–but you can’t let him do this. 

“I knew you would choose me, princess.” You hear Beomgyu’s muffled voice from beneath you and look down to see a demented, bloody grin on his face before you and Taehyun are thrown off him. 

He does it so easily, leaving you to gape at him in shock. If he could’ve done this from the start then why did he let Taehyun beat him up? 

You watch in horror as the tables quickly turn and in the blink of an eye it’s Taehyun that is on the floor and Beomgyu is on top of him with his hands around his throat, choking the life out of him. No matter how hard Taehyun tries to push him off, he does not budge. 

You try too. Beomgyu was never heavy, even you are usually able to throw him around if you really wanted to, but now he is like a rock that can’t be moved. You rip at his clothes and nothing. You claw at his skin and nothing. Nothing happens except the slow snuffing of Taehyun’s breath under him. 

“No. Why are you doing this?” You wail, tears burning on your cheeks. “Just stop. Please. I can’t lose either of you again.” 

But you should’ve known better. You should’ve known that would only make Beomgyu angrier. "This is why he has to die. We were happy before he came along and we’ll be happy again once he’s gone.” 

You can see Taehyun’s face turn blue as he struggles and fails to push Beomgyu off him, the only sound coming from him are his thrashing limbs, no air able to escape from under Beomgyu’s death grip. 

The view is enough to suffocate even you and you quickly say everything you could think of that might persuade Beomgyu to spare Taehyun, even if spelt your own doom. “Don't hurt him. I'll go with you. I swear I will go with you and I won't try to fight you ever again. Just let him go. Let him go and I’ll be all yours.” 

“Your promises mean nothing to me when you’ve broken them so easily before. It doesn’t matter. You’re mine anyway.” He answers, unimpressed and you shake your head. “I will fight you every day if you hurt him. I will never forgive you. You may have me physically but my heart won’t be yours anymore. You’ve fucked up so much Beomgyu. You owe me this.” 

He grunts, his hands tightening around Taehyun’s throat for a second–the poor man’s face almost turning purple now–before he loosens his grip enough to allow a thin, raspy breath of air into Taehyun’s lungs. 

“What does it matter anyway? He'll be reborn again. Away from us.” He spits out angrily, his fingers twitching–dying to resume their vice grip on Taehyun’s throat but thankfully holding back.  

"It matters to me. If you want me to let you have me, you’ll spare him.” 

To your surprise, it is not Beomgyu but Taehyun who speaks up, his voice so uncharacteristically weak coming out of his almost crushed windpipe. “Let him kill me. Maybe then I'll be rid of you.”

The coldness in his voice freezes the air in your lungs, forming jagged icicles that tear you apart from the inside. 

“You've made a fool of me too many times before. I will not live out another life as a fool. Free me of you.”

You hold back your tears. “Taehyun…” 

“You'll never escape from him because you deserve him.” 

Beomgyu looks torn between his fury at Taehyun’s vicious attack on you, and his relief that he’s ruining whatever goodwill you’d built up behind his back, but he seems to settle on the latter, a slow unkind smile warping his lips. 

“See what he is? He was never the better option. He would never love you like I do, unconditionally and forever. Let me kill him. It will do us all good.” His voice turns fearsome on that last appeal and you struggle to remain unshaken in the face of it. Yes, you deserve this. If all the little and big pieces of your past life that have come back to you are real then you deserve to live in a world bound to the monster you nurtured and hated by the one man who tried to break you free from him. 

“Let him live.” You insist, fighting both men for Taehyun’s life now. “Let him live or I’ll make sure that all that you’ve worked for this time will have been for naught. You may as well kill me after him because you’ll never be able to have me in this lifetime again.” 

Beomgyu bares his teeth at you like a feral dog, unhappy about your demands of mercy for the sake of the man who in his eyes was the reason he lost you–and by the sounds of it is intent on doing it again.

“If you keep me alive I will hunt you both down until I kill you.” He warns and Beomgyu looks at you in a silent plea, like a child begging to pour salt on a slug, but you shake your head at him. 

Do you not care about his threat? Of course you do. Do you not believe him? Of course you do. But just like before, you've got no one to blame but yourself and Beomgyu–Beomgyu because he forces the strings of fate to weave to his will and bring you together no matter how ugly and knotted it ends up making your lives, and you for always stringing along innocent people into it, tying them up into a mess that isn’t their own. 

“Come on, Beomgyu.” You put your hand out to him. “Let’s go.” 

You see the vitriol in his eyes soften at the extended hand. You know he wants to take it. He wants nothing more than to take your hand and disappear forever with you–Taehyun is an afterthought to him, this entire life just a distraction in the grand scheme of things–and so he does. He reaches out to take your hand, but not before he grabs Taehyun’s head, smacking it against the hard ground and knocking him out. 

You gasp at the violent action, withdrawing your hand in shock but Beomgyu doesn’t let you, reaching out to clasp it tightly in his own hand, reminding you that once you give him something, you can never have it back. “Beomgyu!”

He rolls his eyes, standing up and pulling you flush against his body. “He’ll live. Might take some time to recover, or better yet he’ll be dumber for it, but he’ll live just like you wanted. Now forget about him and just focus on me.” He grabs your chin and turns your gaze away from the unconscious Taehyun and towards his own face. “You have to hold up your end of the bargain now princess or you'll pay with his life.” 

Of course. Even this small act of kindness couldn't be selfless. He only did it in order to ensure your good behavior. As long as you live, you’ll have to appease Beomgyu's demented whims or Taehyun’s life will be on the line. A deal with the devil.

Your lips tremble and you ask yourself. Is this really what you deserve after all? Were the sins of your past life so offensive to the gods that the only way to pay for them is through eternal damnation with your monster? Was there no hope of salvation for you? And would you have taken it if there was? 

“Where are you taking me?” You ask in a shaky voice as he pulls you after him and away from the flat, leaving every part of this temporary life behind. 

"Somewhere no one will ever find us.”

__________________________________

The journey to this place in the middle of nowhere lasts longer than you could’ve imagined, longer than you could stay awake, that it feels like he was really taking you somewhere at the edge of the universe where no one can reach you ever again. You doze off as the adrenaline that had kept you going until now leaves your body, and Beomgyu is more than happy to let you rest in the backseat of his car as he takes you through dark remote areas you wouldn’t have been able to keep track of even if you were awake. 

When you finally reach your destination and groggily step out of the car with his help, you almost think you’re still dreaming, because in front of you is a massive mansion you’ve never seen or heard off before. All the way around was nothing but empty woods, the imposing and impressive structure seemingly completely cut off from the rest of the world. 

You look at Beomgyu in shock, the sleep flying off your eyes at the unexpected sight. 

Beomgyu grins–or at least attempts to through the swelling of his lips, his bloody teeth barely visible underneath. Oh, your poor beautiful boy. He looks like a mess. “Do you like it, princess?” 

“H-How?” You ask cluelessly as he pulls you towards the entrance. “Being immortal has its perks. I knew I needed to make myself a small fortune to show off whenever you were ready to come back to me.” 

You’re in for a bigger shock when you finally step inside the mansion, because everyone and everything here–all the decorations, furniture, servants and household staff gathered around to greet you–are all styled in a way you only recognize from your dreams. The entire mansion looks as if Beomgyu had plucked it straight out of your first life. 

And yes, there are people there. You had been fully expecting this grand building to be running on magic or something ridiculous like that. After all, if immortality and vengeful gods are real, what makes the thought that stupid? But no, there are people here and you honestly can’t tell if they belong to this era or if Beomgyu somehow stole them from your previous life. 

“Welcome home, my lady.” A woman who you presume to be the head of the household staff bows towards you. You just stare at her, mouth agape. She didn’t look like she was wearing a costume or putting on an act. She looked exactly how you remember the staff at the old palace looked like.  

And what did she say? Home? Is this really home? It looked like it–definitely smaller than Beomgyu’s old palace despite how big and opulent it is by modern standards– but you’re scared by how your guards are already going down by the familiar sight. 

Beomgyu nudges you as the woman straightens back up and stares at you in expectation. 

“Uh, yes, thank you.” You chew on your lip and Beomgyu chuckles lightly. “You’ll have to forgive my princess. This is all a bit of a shock for her. I am sure once she goes back to her old self, she’ll be much more mannerly.” 

“Ah, yes, of course. Silly me.” The woman laughed graciously in turn, “The poor dear must be exhausted from all that travel. I know we have all been waiting for her to finally arrive but I suppose our welcome party will have to wait for the morning when she’s properly rested.”

They have been waiting? They knew you were coming. Beomgyu was always going to win, wasn't he? It was just a matter of time. He always does.

“That’s right. She can hardly stay upright from the fatigue.” He pulls you towards him, and you realize belatedly that he’s holding you up by the waist. “Pray tell me that our bath is ready.”

“Of course, my prince. And a fresh change of clothes too.” She chirps happily, proud of her immaculate service. “It’s all waiting for you upstairs.” 

“Wonderful.” Beomgyu turns towards you and smiles, “Let's head to our chambers, love, shall we?”

Your spacious bedroom has an almost equally large ensuite attached to it where some servants were still fussing about, putting extra oils and salts into your bath to make it gentler and more calming, before Beomgyu dismisses them and goes about his familiar habit of bathing both you and himself. You barely register any of it, too preoccupied by the overstated luxury of the place around you to pay much attention to him undressing you and pulling you into the large tub–the water a perfect temperature, the smell heavenly, his touch both gentle and purposeful as he attempts to cleanse you of your previous life. 

You feel both out of place and right at home, the two very different sides of you pushing and pulling as you look around the room. The way this bathroom is decorated and even the products he’s using look and feel more expensive than your entire life had been so far, and Beomgyu appears well aware of that fact and quite pleased with it too–happy that he could finally show off what he’s been dying to for so long. You always had a feeling he wanted to shower you in the finer things and you never understood or accepted it because you thought he was just another broke college student making stupid rash decisions in order to impress his love, but now you get it. 

He makes sure to explain to you the source of everything he’s using and the rare ingredients that go into it, trying to appeal to that old part of you that had apparently yearned for spoils and riches. Of course these weren’t just simple shower products that normal plebs use. These were made specifically for you, just waiting for your arrival. He points out every aspect of the bathroom and the room attached to it that seems to be catching your eye at the moment and tells you how he chose them and where he got them from–how he chose the golden and brown accents because they’re reminiscent of the sunflowers you so adore–how he had the ceiling decorated in shining stars to resemble the stars you would see when you laid in each other’s arms in the palace gardens. It was all so meticulously planned and decorated just for you. 

Is it really for you though? It may have been for a past you but are you still her? Can this extravagance be for you when you never even realized that anyone would ever care to spend so much money on a place that everyone else uses only to get rid of their waste or wash off the dirt and grime off their bodies? 

But as Beomgyu continues to flaunt it all to you, you realize that even a room as ordinary as a bathroom is another space where the rich and powerful can show off their wealth. It’s a room where they go to shed the filth of the outside world away and relish in their highly curated luxury and beauty just as Beomgyu is doing right now–diligently scrubbing that real world off you and washing it down the drain until this fantasy mansion looks like it could be where you belong. 

If just the bathroom was hard for you to wrap your head around, you can’t even begin to describe how lavish the connected bedroom is, but one thing that catches your eye amidst the exuberance of it all is the portrait in the middle of the wall facing you. It’s a portrait of you and Beomgyu, or rather prince Beomgyu and the person you were back then. He is standing behind you in all his royal garb and you’re in front of him dressed in the finest silks and jewelry money can buy, shining like his most prized possession as one of his hands rests on your shoulder and another is seen wrapped around your waist possessively.  

“Do you like it, princess?” He asks after he dries you off with the softest towel you’ve ever felt on your skin, his hands almost mirroring the portrait as his slightly bloody lips follow the curve of your neck, not caring if he leaves small crimson streaks on your skin. “Does the place suit your taste?” 

“It’s…” You utter slowly, eyes jumping around the room as Beomgyu stares at you with hopeful anticipation, waiting for the realization of all his effort, but as you say your next words, his expression falls. “It’s a lot.” 

“A lot?” He scoffs, offended. “The you I know would never say such a word.” 

You gulp. “Well maybe that person isn’t here anymore.” 

Why would you say that? Why would you purposefully upset him when he’s shown you time and time again what he’s capable of? It’s a lie of course. She has always been there deep inside, slumbering but not dead, just waiting for him to come back and awaken her. 

“Not there anymore?” He growls, pushing you onto the impossibly soft bed and climbing over you, not as gentle as he had been so far. “Bullshit. You just need a little reminding.”

He kisses you roughly, angrily, with the weight of centuries of longing that had turned sharp and tender. You can’t help but respond back. Despite your words, she claws her way out of the abyss at his beckoning. 

“Why do you always have to make me work for it?” He growls, nipping at your neck while his fingers find their way between your legs, the easy practiced way he can get you dripping no longer such a mystery to you. He has honed it over lifetimes. “Why do you love torturing me?” 

You? Torturing him? He has controlled you in this life and the first one and probably all others in between. He has manipulated and hurt you in countless ways and yet you’re the one hurting him? 

“Because you deserve it.” You breathe out mournfully, “We deserve it.” 

His swollen lips curl in distaste. “I don’t care. As long as I got you, I don't give a shit about anything else. Let me be damned for all of eternity as long as you're mine.” He kisses you again, the metallic bitter taste of blood combined with his natural sweetness so fitting for him, your corrupted angel. “Always mine.” 

He pushes his fingers inside you and your pussy takes him easily, knowing who it belongs to before even you did. 

The way he has you on your back with your legs open and your feet in the air is a scene you’re sure has recurred over and over again across your centuries with him, repeatedly laying his claim to your pliant body until you can no longer rebuke him, your body knowing what to expect now even if your mind still struggles to catch up. 

You feel Beomgyu pull on your hand to wrap it around his cock, the silent order from him not needing to be said out loud for your body to start acting, your grip on him turning firm as your hand moves in that practiced way over his cock that has his jaw hanging open and his back arching into your touch, his eyes hungrily feasting on the sight of you splayed open and ready for the taking.  But he waits, letting both your desires build up to an unbearable heat. 

“Fuck, Beomgyu… just do it already.” You hiss, sick of the wait. He knows you're his. You've always been and always will be so he should just get it over with. But of course Beomgyu can't let it be that simple. He has to force you to say it. He has to rub your face in it so you won't dare disobey or deny him again. 

“Is my princess in there?” He cocks his head to the side, his thumb flicking your swollen clit, making you bite down on your lip. You can’t bear the way he looks at you. It makes your skin burn. 

“Yes.” A few hot tears fall down the sides of your face. Why bother fighting it anymore? He has won. 

“Does she want me?” He continues, pulling his fingers out and making you whimper at the emptiness as he takes your hand off him so he can replace his fingers at your entrance with the head of his cock, hot and thick, taunting you with what he could give you if you bend to his will. “Do you want me?”

He leans down to press his forehead against yours, locking eyes with you and looking right into your core, forcing you to face him as you give in. 

You let out a pathetic cry. “Yes. I want you. I will always want you.”

“Good girl.” He pushes inside you, letting out a heavy sigh of relief, like coming home after being lost for so long. “I missed you so much. I always knew you'd come back to me.”

He did. This entire mansion is a testament to it. And so you lie there on your back and take it, getting fucked open by Beomgyu, his beat up face not taking away from his beauty. If anything, his bruised and bloody visage contrasts with the backdrop of the elaborate and extravagant ceiling above him and serves to drive home the lengths he’s willing to go–the ugliness and horror he’s willing to let come pass so he can have you, so he can steal you away and keep you as a good, pliant fucktoy for the prince who had always been greedy for more than his fair share. 

“Maybe I should thank the fool for getting you back to me.” He murmurs, making your eyes jump from the glittering chandelier above him to his sparkling eyes that cannot be dimmed even by the blackness around them, that have only been put off once by death itself before he revolted against it and came back for you. “Getting you to remember us.” 

You frown. You know what he means. You were together before Taehyun came into the picture but not fully, not the way he wanted you to be. But now he's slowly getting back the you he's always been chasing, the you he may have only reunited with a few times over centuries. You understand that. Still that doesn't mean he can disparage Taehyun, and it doesn’t mean that you want to be reminded of him. 

“Don't speak of him.” You don't want to hear it. You're here, aren't you? He won and you’re here. He should just let you forget what that has meant for you. 

He smiles, more than happy to not speak another word of Taehyun ever again, and rewards you by bending down to kiss you as he fucks his cock ruthlessly in and out of you, fully devoted to helping you forget. 

“Fuck, I really missed you.” He groans against your lips before pulling back so he can feast his eyes on you. “Now that I have you back I don't think I can give you a break until I show you just how much I missed you. Gotta make up for all our lost time.” He drills his cock faster and harder into you, the wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh ringing around the room so loudly you're worried that all other occupants of the house can also hear it. “Not gonna rest until all your holes are filled to the brim with my cum and you remember just how much I love you.” 

“Gyu…” You whine at his loud promises, fearing the rest of the household is hearing his filth. “Keep it down.”

He laughs, fucking you harder. “Why should I? Everyone here knows who you belong to. They know their master will be fucking his princess every night. Every day. They may as well get used to it now because I don’t intend on hiding any of it.”

“What?” Your cheeks flush bright, surely he is not suggesting what you think he’s suggesting. 

“This isn't our old palace, princess. I don't have to hide what is mine anymore and I expect you not to either. And if that means they can hear or even see me claiming what is mine then so be it. It’s what I always wished I could do anyway.” 

Yes, you know that very well–images of Prince Beomgyu’s attempts at inappropriate touches in public flitting through your brain. You shake your head, whining. “Not hiding, just common decency…” 

“Fuck that. Gonna show the whole universe who this pussy belongs to.” He growls, and you feel one of his hands move between your bodies to reach your pussy, his fingers easily rubbing your soaked lips and making your thighs tense up. 

“Beomgyu!” You cry at the sudden spike in pleasure, your pussy clenching around him when you get no escape from it, his hips incessantly thrusting against yours and barreling you towards what you know will be a blinding orgasm. “It’s too much.” 

He shakes his head, fingers going faster. “Not enough. Never enough. Now cum for me, princess. Make a mess on my cock.” 

As if you could have stopped it even if you wanted to. Your orgasm causes your whole body to seize up–your thighs crash around his thin waist, your pussy spasming on his twitching cock, your nails digging down into the flesh of his back as you throw your head back and cry out loudly, the irony of you asking for decency not lost on your grinning lover. 

“That’s it. Good girl. Now take it. Take all of me.” He grunts, spending himself inside you, the first of the many times he promised you he would. The first of your lifetime together. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

In the heat of it all, it takes you a second to respond, a second too long for Beomgyu’s liking, and he grabs your face and makes you lock eyes with him. “I love you.” He repeats, continuing to fuck his cum into you as he waits for your response. 

“I-I love you too.” You gasp out, your nails digging even deeper into his skin, begging him to give you a break, the overstimulation ruthlessly gripping your own flesh. “I love you. Please.” 

He finally slows down. It takes him a minute to completely stop, and you can see that he didn’t really want to but he does iit for you. “Did you miss me?” He asks, doubt and insecurity plaguing his swollen features, silently asking you to put his troubled soul at ease. He may be a cruel and calculating being sent back to punish you for your sins, but underneath it all he’s still your lovesick boy, your prince whose soul yearns for yours, and it would be the cruelest thing of all to deny him that one thing that keeps him from perishing.  

You nod, reaching out weakly to play with his hair, your muscles cut down by fatigue then completely turned to mush by pleasure. “Yes, I did. I missed you even when I didn’t know who I was missing.” 

He smiles gently at that, letting out a small breath of relief that conveys all his vulnerability before bending down to give you a sweet peck on the lips. “I’m right here. I promise to keep reminding you..” 

You don’t know if he’s promising this to himself or to you, but it leads your mind to troubling questions. 

“Are they going to let us stay together?” You frown, suddenly apprehensive at the thought of those cruel gods he’d spoken of. Now that you have him–now that you know exactly what you’ve been missing, it petrifies you to have him ripped away from you again so soon. If you must be damned to be with him, then let you be with him, damn it!

“For this lifetime, maybe.” He answers hoarsely, uncertainly. “Every time you choose me, we're doomed further. They're just letting us rack up the debt.” 

“Choose? Do I ever have a choice?” Your question is innocent, your mind too scrambled to come up with an intentional attack, yet Beomgyu still perceives it as such. 

“Of course you do. You always do. If you reject me enough times, you condemn me to a hell like no other, to being cut away from you forever.” He answers defensively, needing you to know that you’re not blameless in any of this, and you know you’re not because your heart spasms painfully at the thought of being forever severed from him the same way an artery spasms around itself to keep from bleeding out. “If I force you then it's the same. You have to choose me yourself. That's the only way we can be together.”

A sick feeling of realization hits you. You suddenly get it–why he let himself get beat up by Taehyun. He had to wait for you to choose him. If he had just killed Taehyun and took you away, it would’ve tallied up against him. He had to let you doom yourself. Even if all you’ve done to earn damnation is to hesitate when Taehyun asked you to run away. Even if you did it to save Taehyun, it didn’t matter. You choosing him will always be your sin.

He's right. These gods really are wicked and unjust.  

“Do I choose you every time?” You ask in a small, shaky voice and he frowns, your question prompting what must be disturbing memories to spring to his mind. “Not always but most of the time.”

“What happens when I don't? Do you let me?” You hold your breath, anticipating his response. Does he let you be? Does he force you? Does he hurt you? Is every time you choose him similar to this time and your first life? Could you be pardoned by pleading that you’ve been forced into it or is the sheer amount of times you chose him enough to prove your wickedness beyond a shadow of doubt?

“Why are you asking about that now? You chose me in this lifetime. The rest doesn’t matter.” He brushes you off, goosebumps prickling your skin at his diversion. In his nonanswer lies the truth. No, he doesn’t let you. He doesn’t accept defeat. He never did and never will. 

“Doesn’t that bother you, what they’re doing to us? Forcing us into this cycle over and over again?” You push tentatively. “Don't you want to be free?” 

If you stop choosing each other, will you break this infernal cycle? 

“From you? Never.” He tells you with all the certainty and conviction a man can hold, forehead pressed against yours, your breaths intermingling as if your souls are greeting each other. “Darling, if they give me the choice between heaven and you, I would choose you every time. My existence is meaningless without you, salvation is nothing to me if I can't be with you. I would go through this hell again and again just to spend these precious few moments with you. Let me suffer alone for lifetimes if it means I get even one day like this to feel your love once more.”

Your heart swells, different emotions warring inside of it–eternal love for him, happiness that he is so devoted to you that even death can’t keep you apart, anger that he won’t grant you salvation, hate for everything he’s put you through, horror that you will never escape, soul deep fatigue at the weight of it all–but you can’t even begin to untangle them from each other because he doesn’t let you. This is your reunion and he won’t let it be ruined by your doubts. 

Instead, he flips you over, pushing you onto your tummy and pulling your ass up, the sound of him jerking his drenched cock to hardness the only thing you can hear over the ringing in your ears before you feel it breaching your pussy to fill you up again. He lays himself over you, his hips immediately go to work fucking you, making use of every moment he has stolen with you. 

“Gyu…” You whine, mind too fried to care much about the way you’re drooling over the expensive sheets. “Too fast.” 

“I’m sorry, princess. Just wanna make up for all the lost time. I promise I’ll be gentler later, will take care of you so well.” He babbles, the strain of the pleasure he’s getting from your tight walls evident in his voice. “Promise. Just be good for me tonight. Okay?”

You get it–his desperation, his insatiability. This is one of the only few times in his long, lonely existence when he gets to be with you and have you fully in this way–his princess brought back from the unfathomable and untraversable void of death and lost memories for him. And you can’t find it in you to deprive him of you right now. You’ll think about it later. You’ll worry about what this means for your soul��s eternal damnation tomorrow, but for tonight, you’ll let him have you. You’ll let your rotten souls rejoice in the company of their other half. 

“Okay.” You mumble dumbly, letting him take you like a bitch as tears of overstimulation line your lashes and your fingers clutch tightly onto the sheets. You can’t even pretend that it doesn’t feel good, every thrust of his hips, every touch of his hands, every filthy word he says, every load he release inside you–it all shifts and molds you into the wretched lover he’s been searching for, the walls you’ve built up to contain her getting torn down with every position he takes you in until you lay limp with no fight left in you and it’s revealed that there is no one behind those walls. There never was. She was always you. 

When he’s finally has his fill, and you’re more dirty and ruined than you ever were before the bath, he lays down next to you and takes you in his arms–his tight embrace suffocating and hot after what he just put your body through but he doesn’t care. You don’t care. You’re with each other, and that’s how your story always ends and begins. You've been here many times before and you'll be here for many more to come. 

You are at the edge of sleep, almost falling over, when you hear a small sniffle and feel him shake ever so slightly under you. You look up to see his teary eyes and you lift your hand to his face to brush those very costly droplets away. “Why are you crying, baby?”

“I'm just so happy. I missed you so much.” He whimpers, his hold on your getting even tighter. “I love you.”

You know. You couldn’t have understood it so fully before but now that you know a fraction of what he went through to get here, you know that his love is not a mere mortal love. It has defied fate itself and it will live on for eons to come. As long as you're on this earth, he'll stay here to find you, and when you leave, he'll follow you wherever you go, be it heaven or hell or the unfathomable unknown. As long as you're together, his wretched and weary soul can find its peace. 

“I missed you too. And I love you.” 

And I'm sorry it has come to this. I'm sorry I let our once precious love grow so gruesome and hideous that this twisted ending is our only version of happiness. 

_______________________________

A/N: aaaand that's the end of this portion of the story. let me know what you think of this ending. less death than usual lol.

would you rather get tyun's ending (mostly tyun focused) or continue the story from where this chapter leaves off (mostly gyu focused)? Or would you rather a new unrelated story entirely?

Here are some teasers for the two ideas

Tyun's ending:

“Where do we go from here?” You ask defeatedly and he narrows his eyes at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re clearly angry at me. You don't trust me.” 

“Yeah, and?”

You frown too. How can he not see where the problem lies? “How are we going to stay together like this?”

“Are you thinking of leaving again?” Now he starts getting angry, vindictive, the wrath of the warlord in him cutting through the centuries. 

“No–”

“Because I won't let you. All your bullshit excuses are gone. there is no war. You can't pretend you're going back for the greater good.” His voice is mocking on the last part, and you feel your face heat up.

“It was not an excuse!" You sputter. You can't believe he's saying this to you. "It was real!” 

“You’re my wife. That's what's real and you should've stayed loyal.” He tells you unkindly, not interested in your explanations.

“So you want me to stay just out of principle even if you're just going to hate every second of being together?” It would be funny to see the way he has completely not changed even in this new life if it wasn't so painful.

“Maybe. But I certainly won't be made a fool of again and maybe it's high time you experience some consequences for your actions.”

Gyu's ending continuation:

“How could you do this? How could you be so stupid?” Beomgyu's response to you slipping out for the day seems like a wild overreaction. You know he insists on controlling every aspect of your life so you won't leave him again but going out to walk through the surrounding small village for a few hours could hardly have many consequences. Not when he apparently controls the whole village. 

“You’re overreacting.” You roll your eyes at him but that just makes him freak out more. 

“You don't know what you're risking. He could have found you! He could have taken you away from me!” 

“What are you talking about?” You push him off you. “How would he do that when you know exactly where he is at all times?”

You scoff at him but the scared look on his face makes you falter. “You've lost him, didn't you?”

He doesn't answer you, and you watch his face grow paler. “What is he going to do? You’re immortal.” 

“But I am not all powerful, and there are beings out there more wicked than me.” He tells you fearfully, reaching out to hold you once more. 

Unrelated fic idea:

“Fuck, this feels amazing.” He groans and turns to you, “Can I use him every day?” He asks you cheekily and you grin as you hump against Beomgyu harder. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Look at him, he’s soaking my hand with precum.” 

You hear Beomgyu garbled moans around Soobin’s cock and you question him. “What’s wrong, baby? Is Binnie using his big cock right this time?” 

Beomgyu whines again and you laugh at him, but Soobin doesn’t find it so funny, not with his cock getting the full brunt of all of Beomgyu’s vocalizations. “Oh god, I’m close. Can I cum on his face?” 

You grin widely. “Of course, Binnie. I’m sure Gyu wants to help out his hyung any way he can. He’s so needy he’ll let you cover his pretty in cum because he knows that will earn him a reward. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Also you can send and ask for any of the characters and I’ll answer as the character

[akookminsupporter]

A Rather Personal Post

This will be quite a personal post, and I hope the few who follow this blog don't mind. This isn't about Jimin and Jungkook or BTS, yet at the same time, it is.

The past few months have not been the best, neither from a professional, family, nor personal standpoint. My mental health is on the brink, wanting to give up. Stress is overwhelming me. A toxic boss is worsening things, and the family situation I'm going through is the bitter icing on the cake I'm eating; but amidst all that, there's this blog.

I once said that BTS came into my life at the right moment, just when I needed them without knowing it. Today, I can say they have stayed in my life to provide an escape from my reality, a healthier and less dark one.

More than once, I've wanted to give up. I've realised that I don't have much to live for. I feel like I've failed. I fear that when I'm gone, people won't remember me for anything specific, just that I was there, occupying the space assigned to me. Some things and people in my life keep me from giving up, but sometimes it's hard. I'm fed up with myself and everything. I'm tired.

But Jimin and Jungkook's show, and Jimin's album in particular, have brought a bit of light to my mind, a distraction I desperately needed but couldn't find. These two things have managed to quiet the noise in my brain or made it more understandable, more bearable. The same goes for this blog. Words cannot express how grateful I am for this space. This has been an incredible distraction, for which I am thankful every day. That's why I post so much. That's why you see me so excited about the show and Jimin's album. This may seem silly to some people. Maybe others think I'm being dramatic, and perhaps they are right, but I'm also being honest.

So for that reason, I want to thank the few people who are still here. I want to thank BTS for making my life a little happier and those who have been here since the beginning of this blog and those who have joined along the way. You mean a lot to me. And I am eternally grateful to you.

[marypsue]

In that vein (hah), I just have to take a moment to gush about the costuming in The Lost Boys because. Have you seen the costuming in The Lost Boys. Like each costume standing on its own without anyone in it still gives you a sense of a whole character, which is important because some of these characters don't get, uh, lines. We have to be able to distinguish them immediately by visuals, and the thing is, we can, because they're not just dressed to look attractive, they're dressed with the purpose of establishing character.

Like, consider Michael. They kept it very simple for him, on purpose, he's a regular everyman kind of guy thrown into a Situation. But also, he's trying too hard. The white t-shirt, jeans, and leather jacket call back to James Dean, Rebel Without A Cause, but the leather jacket's brand new without a scuff or a crack, not broken in, and it sits uncomfortably on his shoulders. The earring doesn't suit him - it belongs to somebody else, a funhouse mirror version of himself that he's tempted by, but also it literally belongs to somebody else. Who gave him that earring? Star's implied to have done the piercing, for him, which also tracks - the earring's a little piece of someone else, someone darker and wilder, that's been dug right down into his flesh by his association with Star. It's tasted his blood.

It's also a little piece of the boys' uniting aesthetic bleeding over onto him. There's a magpie sensibility to all of them, but then each of them are visually distinct as themselves within it.

Star's clothes have 80s cuts but form a 60s hippie silhouette, solidified in time. She's the most colourful of them all, her white tops signifying a flash of innocence, but at the same time as she climbs on David's bike, she pulls on a big black jacket that almost envelops her, a little piece of his shadow falling over her and devouring her light. Again, it doesn't quite fit her, like she's playing dressup as a darker, wilder self just like Michael is.

And speaking of David. That boy is chin to toe wrapped up in black. The coat references batwings, which is a great detail. And those gloves! He doesn't touch Star; he doesn't touch Michael; he doesn't touch the world, except through a layer of darkness. It's real Old West, white-hat-black-hat level symbolism. Except.

The real villain of the piece isn't the dangerous, sharp-edged boy in black - although of course you need to look out for him, they don't call him 'dangerous' for no reason. The real villain of the piece is the most perfectly conventional, middle-class, unassuming, don't-look-twice take-him-home-to-mother normal guy imaginable. Grey and beige. Business casual.

It's the perfect camouflage for a predator.

(And then also like. I can't wax as poetic about it right now because my brain cells are otherwise occupied. But please consider how much character is there in, like, the Frogs' army-surplus duds and Sam's terrible, incredible shirts.)