#so don’t fucking call me. or text me. and beg for my forgiveness because you suddenly realize you were a bad friend too.

[putragismf]

So glad we don’t talk anymore.

[babyleostuff]

call me back

fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!hoshi x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.6k

. . . fighting with you is never easy for hoshi. especially not when an ocean is separating you

was fighting over the last piece of cake stupid and immature? yes. did it feel like hoshi’s whole world was about to collapse when he noticed you ate it? double yes. while your boyfriend wasn’t known for his great patience and non-existent anger issues, he never took his anger out on you, no matter how frustrated and annoyed he was.

well - until last week. 

hoshi came home tired and very, very hungry, nothing out of the ordinary, though you could clearly see he was a lot more agitated than usual, so you did what you always did when he came back exhausted like that - gave him space. you were just about to start your nighttime routine when you heard your name being yelled from the kitchen, and not in a happy “baby, my love, my darling, please come hereeee” kind of way. 

you didn’t even get a chance to take a breath as you entered the kitchen, coming face to face with soonyoung and his angry pout. “where the fuck is my cake?” he asked, and now, a week later, his words were still echoing through his head. 

it was never his intention to lash out at you like that. obviously. he was tired, and hungry, his muscles were aching, he felt like a bad boyfriend for spending so little time with you, and he forgot to buy a gift for his mom's birthday - not that it mattered, nothing could excuse him for being so mean to you. to make matters worse, instead of acting like a man and begging on his knees for your forgiveness, he chickened out and just left. 

“man, why don’t you just don’t call her and apologise?” woozi sighed, throwing his head back because it had to be the tenth time he had to listen to hoshi’s story of how he decided to act like the biggest dick over an overpriced piece of a strawberry cake. 

“i did but she’s not answering.” 

“no shit, i wouldn’t have answered either.” 

and that exactly was the biggest problem - it was hard enough to go through a fight while he was home, but now that he was overseas, a thousand kilometres away from you it was impossible. yes, he could send you flowers and shit, but it would only piss you off even more. there was no way for him to show you how truly fucking sorry he was. 

“i know you’re angry with me right now, but please,” hoshi took in a shaky inhale. he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so… sad. “please, just call me back,” that had to be the tenth voicemail he left you ever since he left home. 

you, on the other hand, weren’t doing much better. you felt like slapping the shit out of him that night in your apartment, and although you were able to control your sudden surge of violence, you didn’t hold back on cursing him out after he left. you even thought about burning his side of the closet but if you did that you’d lose all of your favourite hoodies and flannels, so you gave up on that too. 

after your short rage situation, you sat down at kitchen island, and stared at the empty plate where soonyoung’s cake was supposed to be. how were you supposed to know he’d act like that over a cake? obviously you wouldn’t have eaten it then. you figured your boyfriend must’ve had a really bad day at the rehearsals. the past couple of days were really harsh on him, and if you could you’d wrap him in bubble wrap, a couple of blankets, and cuddle the shit out of him for being so strong through all of this. 

all of those excuses for him and still - you couldn’t bring yourself to answer his calls and texts, no matter how much listening to his voicemails broke your heart. 

“so, um, i know we’re not talking but i’m just calling to tell you good morning. remember to eat, and um, have a great day, baby.” 

the boys were slowly losing their patience too (seungcheol asked mingaho if he could share some of his calming tea) because a grumpy hoshi was never a fun hoshi, plus - they hated seeing their best friend constantly beating himself over your fight. there was something lacking without their performance team leader’s spark. 

“should we just call her?” mingyu looked over at soonyoung, who was sitting by himself in the corner of the room. “he looks pathetic, moping around like that,” he snorted. 

seungcheol groaned, banging his head on jeonghan's shoulder. as they started to get older he started to feel less like a leader but more like a therapist (he really thought about resigning the day seungkwan came whining about a love triangle he got himself into). “they are adults, they should figure it out between themselves.” 

“oh come on, do we have to remind you what we had to do for you when you forgot about your girlfriend's birthday so she would forgive you?” mingyu snickered, and pulled out his phone. 

you didn’t know what to expect when you saw mingyu’s picture flash over your phone screen. it definitely had something to do with your boyfriend, that much you gathered, but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear what he had to say. your boyfriend’s words really hurt you, and no matter how much you wanted to forgive him, you weren’t sure you could do it yet. 

eventually, you clicked on the green button with a shaky finger. “yes?” you took a deep inhale and prepared yourself for whatever you were about to hear. 

“okay, so you know exactly why i’m calling. your boyfriend looks like a kicked puppy, he stopped saying horanghae, he’s dressed all in black and he looks like he drank an entire bottle of soju. i mean, don't worry, he didn't do it because he would be reeling now, but you get what i mean. whatever happened between the two of you, give us back our hoshi."

"well, that was very tactful," you heard coups' voice in the background.

“can you shut up for one second?” 

“no, in fact i can’t.” 

“okay, boys, i don’t want to interrupt whatever is going on, but i really need to know if he’s doing as bad as you're saying.” 

“bad” didn’t even come close to what hoshi was feeling. at this point he was so angry and frustrated at himself for acting like he acted, that seriously had to be one of his lowest points of his life achievements. now you were going to dump him, and he’d have to drown himself in soju, and grow a beard, and write a sad love song that he’d hear at the radio for the rest of his life, and-

there was no way you were calling him right now. and yet, “h-hello? babe?” 

“no, the fucking pope,” he’d have to add a cabin in the woods to his list of what he’d do after you’d break up with him. “kwoon soonyoung, you have to be one of the most insufferable, impatient and immature people i know. all this because of a piece of cake? do you hear how childish that sounds?"

loud and clear, honey. 

“that’s why i didn’t apologise in the first place. i immediately realised how fucking stupid i acted, and felt so ashamed of saying all of those awful things to you, and so i just left.” 

you sighed defeated. you kind of anticipated him saying that - your boyfriend had a habit of doing things before thinking them over, and as much as you understood him being exhausted and overworked, you still couldn’t forget how small he made you feel that night. 

“look, i really don’t want to fight, being away from you is hard enough, but…,” you ran a hand over your face. what were you supposed to do? you spent the last three nights on the couch because you couldn’t fall asleep in your shared bed, and there were so many times when you wanted to text him about the most unserious things that only he’d get, but you just couldn’t. “your words really hurt me.” 

“i know, shit, i know, and i’m so fucking sorry. whatever i’ll say it won’t be enough, i should’ve apologised right away. fuck, your boyfriend is such a loser,” you heard him laugh, but it was not the usual soonyoung laugh that made the flowers bloom, and sun shine. “i understand if you want to take a break.” 

“that’s the thing, i don’t want to take any breaks. i miss you so much. i miss talking to you every night, i miss our silly conversations, i miss getting my daily hoshi boyfriend pics. i’m sick of seeing your face on twitter and not over face time,” you pulled the sleeve of his sweater over your hand, like it would make you feel any closer to him. “let’s take it slow, maybe?”

you could swear you heard soonyoung exhale, “yes, yes, let’s do that. whatever you need, babe,” he said immediately. “my poor baby must’ve been so nervous.” 

“i love you, you know,” you whispered. there was no point in making things worse and pretending that you didn't miss him, and even though it would probably be a while before everything went back to normal, you didn't want him to doubt whether you still loved him as much as you did before.

“i love you too. very much,” he whispered back, finally sounding a bit happier. “and baby? thank you for calling me back.

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[pascalpvnk]

take it from me

pairing: bilingual!joel miller x f!afab!reader

summary: joel is a simple man who simply finds pleasure in pleasing you.

warnings: moodboard used for aesthetic purposes - does not represent the reader description, 18+ MDNI, no timeline, no specified ages, no mention of sarah or ellie, LATINO JOEL (most translations within the text except for some reused pet names/common phrases). This is porn with minimal plot (but unrelated plot I canon—his favorite artist is Linda Ronstadt and I stand by it.), Joel maneuvers reader, manhandling essentially, no other descriptions of reader other than nipple piercings, body worship(?), Joel’s filthy fucking mouth, mention of thigh riding, oral (both receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, mentions of intense emotions, aftercare.

word count: 3.3k

HOW TO SUPPORT PALESTINE // IMPORTANT FOR TLOU READERS & WRITERS

a/n: fun fact, I’m a virgin, so if it seems far fetched it’s probably because it is. anyways, a special shoutout to ramon nomar for being the muse for this piece, another to @mrsswilliams for beta-ing and fueling my horny antics, thank you to my spanish teachers for guiding me to this moment (probably not your intention but I digress), and to you for taking the time to be here and hopefully enjoying! happy reading xx (banners & dividers by @saradika-graphics)

Addicting is the only word Joel Miller can muster up to describe you as his mind clouds with lust each night he’s alone, bucking into his own fist and spilling his sins after he’d met you. Of course you’re beautiful and charming above all things, but he can’t help the way his cock stirs after simply a phone call from you describing your day. How you miss him and want to meet up again soon.

Joel isn’t the brightest man, which he is very self aware of. But what he craves to learn about you, what your favorite flower is, favorite ice cream, your desires, outranks any level of intelligence a man could hold. He wants to please you, not for a superficial reason to use against you down the line. He enjoys your smile and the way your eyes crinkle, your dimple making an appearance on occasion, and it makes him feel good. The little things shine a light in his chest, ever the people pleaser.

However, he finds a red, hot desire to rouse you, make you squirm under his tender touch. To watch every fiber of control and tension dissipate from your being.

But he’s cautious.

He’s treading on thin ice within himself. He wants to give and give and give, but he’d never forgive himself if he overwhelmed and alarmed you. Your wit keeps him on his toes, tempting and trying his willpower to take things at a palatable pace.

But he’s just a man at his simplest form, a glutton for pleasure wanting to carve himself a home within you and give everything he has to please you. 

You found yourself perched upon his lap, a forgotten movie droning in the background as hands and lips explore new territory. Joel firmly guided your hips, firstly against his own, then he aided you across his denim clad thigh after you wriggled your pants to the floor. 

Choruses of Spanish praises, filth, ‘mamita, use me’, and phrases alike rolled off his tongue effortlessly as he found pleasure within your own. Consuming every moan, gasp, and ‘don’t stop’ you were so eager to give.

He struggled to deny your beautiful pleas to get him off as he had for you. You knew he wanted you to, there was no doubt in your mind considering the prominent bulge straining and begging you to. He reassured you, or rather made excuses for himself to ease the guilt he felt at your subtle disappointment.

I’m not coming in my jeans in front of the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.

You said you had work in the morning, anyhow. We outta get’cha home, preciosa.

Joel kissed you softly as he pulled up your pants, grabbed his keys, opened his truck door for you, waited at red lights, and finally as he dropped you off at your apartment building, sealing the night with melted wax, branding himself on your heart until you meet next.

Made it home okay, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.

And he does.

His head is already spinning at the thought of going out with you again. He’s showered, trimmed, even ironed his flannel before making sure it’s buttoned and tucked properly. Well rested is not one of the qualities he’s adorning—no thanks to you running his imagination rampant—but the adrenaline he feels, and the coffee he drank at noon, make up for his lack of preparedness.

At the end of the day, those things don’t even matter. Joel Miller makes it as far as his front door when you ring, bringing you inside with the intention of grabbing his own keys. His hands find you instead, your face in a gentle caress as he compliments your attire, your appearance as a whole, and your waist as he kisses you with increasing fervor. You don’t stop him, and he doesn’t stop himself.

“Ay dios. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you all day,” he mumbles against your neck, walking you backwards to his bedroom. His shirt wrinkles under your tight grip, suffocating him until you pop each button open one by one. You leave him in his black undershirt, half untucked in his dark washed jeans.

The back of your knees find his mattress before you even realize, forcing you to sit parallel with his waist. He takes his time, always calculated with his hands on every sweet spot he can reach. Joel cups your jaw, admiring your blown out pupils and the raw lust overtaking your features.

“Wanna take good care of ya, now,” he soothes. “Just say the word and I’ll stop, you know I’ll stop for ya, promise.”

It’s half of a promise to you, half of him asking you to promise to tell him if it becomes too much. You nod, reaching for him once again.

“No, chiquita,” he holds your hand to his chest. “¿Me prometes? You promise me?”

“I promise,” you say clearly and wholeheartedly. “On my life.”

With your renewed consent, he folds himself over to kiss you deeply. His tongue dances with yours, similarly to a few nights prior but with increased desperation. Fingertips graze up your sides, nerves twitching under his subtle touch, only unlatching your lips to lift your top over your head. His eyes fixate on the pebbled flesh and metal protruding your bra, making quick work of the clasp before removing it.

“I knew you had something hiding underneath this,” he muses, toying with the fabric of your bra between his first two fingers. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any prettier, hm?”

Joel skims his thumbs on the underside of both of your breasts, attaching his mouth to your collarbone. He suckles your delicate skin, committing the taste of your sweet musk and desire to his memory. He softly licks over one of your nipples, taking in how your head tips back with a sigh. He brings it into his mouth, nipping and assuaging the pierced bud until you manage to free his shirt out of his waistline.

“Paciencia, amor. Patience, sweetheart, please,” he pacifies as he guides your hand out of reach from his belt. “Just wanna savor you. Can I?”

You nod and opt to tangle your fingers in his curls. Approval seeps through his smirk as he continues his ministrations for as long as he pleases, feeling accomplished each time your hips chase his.

Joel stands up straight, running his calloused hands over one of your clothed legs, meticulously pulling each shoe and sock off and tossing them to the side to find later. 

“Do I need a condom, baby?” He mutters against your knee, toying with the hemline of your pants.

You tell him no and quickly explain you’re clean and protected. Something in him visibly switches, desire becoming carnal. He clings tight to his sense of control, desperately willing himself to give himself to you, not give into himself.

Joel drags both layers of bottoms down your legs, watching you challenge him by keeping them clamped together. He exhales heavily through his nose, your limbs relaxing slightly, but just enough for him to retake control.

“Christ, looks like I was wrong again,” he sighs, smoothing his flattened palms over your open thighs. You can get prettier. “Oh she’s pretty, mamita. All this for me?”

A gasp falls between your lips as you’re tugged closer to the edge of the mattress. Your head spins, the only thought crossing it is Joel. His hands. His words. His filthy mouth and how it’s mere centimeters from where you want him to be. Need him to be.

“Joel,” you whine, feeling the scratch of his blunt facial hair on your inner thighs. His lips tease the sensitive skin around your pussy.

“What?” He coos, fingernails biting your flesh. “Dime, baby. Tell me what you want.”

It feels pathetic, you’re completely at his mercy, stripped down on his bed while he remains fully clothed over you. He has you in the palm of his hand, putty waiting to be molded and shaped however he pleases. Bliss has already warped your features, the anticipation of what’s to come already numbing your brain.

“I want you,” you cry simply.

“You have me, don’t ya? I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”

Frustration bubbles in your belly. You’re truly not annoyed, but the tension might snap you in half before he gets the chance to.

“Want you to touch me,” you plead. “Want you to make me come, please.”

Joel hums with content, thumbs pulling your cunt open from the outer lips. A slick, sticky mess you are, hardly touched and begging to come. Arousal seeps from you, finding its way to your tight hole. You watch Joel wet his lips, the self restraint slowly dwindling from his gaze. 

“Show me,” he huffs. “Be good and fuck your hand f’me. Wanna see how you like it.”

The sound of his metal belt buckle clanking against itself is enough for your hand to fly below your hips. Relief floods your nervous system the moment you circle your clit, hips lifting and chasing the friction. Sighs leave your parted lips, eyelids falling shut with pleasure.

“Ah ah,” he corrects. “Eyes on me, beba. Sigue jugando con esa flor bonita. Mírame.” Keep playing with that pretty flower. Look at me.

You comply with his request, half lidded but maintaining eye contact nonetheless. Your fingers toy with your cunt lazily, eyes settling between his burning gaze and his taut boxers. His length strains beneath the thin fabric and his hand twitches at his side.

“I love watching you, mami,” Joel purrs. “Wish y’could see how perfect you look right now…perfectly wrecked just for me.”

His words egg you on, pace quickening on your throbbing clit. Moans spill from you as you watch Joel squeeze at his seemingly uncomfortable erection for his own relief. His other palm keeps your legs spread for him, kneading desperately at your thighs as you work yourself towards the edge.

“¿Quieres que te ayude, mamita?” Do you want me to help you?

Joel settles on his knees, both palms splayed against your skin to keep you pinned down. He licks a broad stripe from your asshole to your clit, sucking harshly on your labia before diving into your weeping cunt, all while audibly sighing with delight at your taste. Your hand instinctively rushes to grip his curls.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he grumbles while putting your hand back where he says it belongs. “Keep playing with yourself. Make this pretty pussy cry all over my face, cosa dulce.” Sweet thing. 

Your digits pulse against the nerve bundle, shocked by the sensation of his tongue swirling inside of you. It’s absolutely obscene. He slurps up everything you have to give, edging you until your legs clamp over his ears. Joel sings into your cunt, a delicious melody that sends you into a frenzy. Your walls flutter around him as he guides you through your orgasm, nose nudging your hand out of the way to make more room for himself.

Your gaze drops from the ceiling to his blissful face, thick eyelashes brushing his flushed cheeks as he savors you. It all begins to feel like too much as you grip onto his shirt. You pull the cloth towards you and he gets the hint, dragging his mouth away from your pussy and removing his top.

“So desperate to come, mamita, already finished with me?” He cants, smoothing a thumb over your kneecap.

“No- just need a breath,” you pant. You take in his features, broad shoulders with a strong chest, thick arms. His hair alone has you running laps, the sparseness of it littered on his torso and below his belly button, his curls tousled already from your hands, and his beard—fuck his beard—is absolutely soaked with your arousal. He makes no attempt to wipe it clean before kissing you. The taste of your cunt dances on your tongue as he licks into your mouth.

“Joel,” you sigh, his lips leaving yours and trailing down your neck. “I wanna suck your cock, please.”

“You wanna suck it?” He smirks, slipping his hand beneath his boxers before shoving them off of his thighs. His fingers slip through your folds briefly before he deposits your cum onto the tip of his dick. Mischief plays on his expression as he opens your legs once more.

Joel slowly stuffs his cock into you, not your mouth but your pussy. A gasp escapes you, morphing itself into a moan. Your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his ass to pull him in deeper.

“Thought you wanted to suck it,” he grunts with a devilish grin, grinding his hips down into yours.

“Hmm, I’ll suck it later,” you draw out with a smile.

He leans down to suck your bottom lip into his mouth, gently nibbling on the sensitive skin before pulling off. 

“God, mamita,” he exhales. “Love fucking this pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

His hips drive into yours at a devastating pace, only using a portion of his length to massage your pussy. You quickly adjust to him, allowing him to thrust deeper into you. You cry his name while simultaneously having all of the oxygen punched out of your lungs. Joel swallows your wails whole, moaning against your lips in return.

Your legs tense around his body, face twisting up with pleasure under the weight of his. Lips drag against your skin, anywhere he can reach. The room spins around you, eyes rolling back into your head as his hand snakes down to play with your clit. You desperately claw at Joel, gripping his curls in one hand and bruising his back with the other. 

“Dámelo. Give it to me like I want, sugar,” Joel coaxes. 

The bundles of twine prickling your flesh and holding you together in one piece snap, your body completely shattering into a million fragments underneath him. He stays buried inside you as you pulse around his cock, humming into your neck and soothing his hands over your burning skin. 

Joel gently settles onto his side near you, cupping your jaw and kissing you feverishly. You shift your body to face away from him, pushing back against his soaked erection. His eyebrows furrow, grunts of detest coming from him.

“No, mami, I want to look at you while I fuck you. Ven aquí, come here,” he corrects, grasping your arm to guide you to press up chest to chest with him. A brief hiss escapes him as the cool jewelry brushes up against his nipples.

“These’ll be the death of me,” he sighs, latching his mouth to yours once more as he maneuvers you the way he wants. 

His cock slips easily back into your wet heat, arms trapping your upper half against his as his legs anchor to the bed to buck into you. He grips onto your ass for leverage and you find yourself holding onto it with your own palm. It’s slower, intimate, reeling you in to take more, to take it all.

He draws another orgasm from you. Your heart thrums against his hardened chest, his pounding against the confines of his ribcage. He collapses on his back with a breathy groan, sweat perspiring on his forehead. You push back his sticky curls as he catches his breath this time.

“You still wanna suck it?” He chuckles cheekily, offering but not forcing. 

He’s surprised as you eagerly crawl down his body, curling over his thigh while taking his cock in your fist. Your back is to him once more, but beggars can’t be choosers, especially while he’s stuffed in your mouth so perfectly. His fingers drag along your spine, palm splaying flat to soothe the sensation quickly after. His hand stills and stomach flexes as you take as much of him as you can, pumping your tight fist over the remainder of his length.

“Fuck me,” he shutters mindlessly, “feels so good, amor. Treating me so good.”

The praises fuel you, moaning around his tip as he continues to trace shapeless trails onto your back. Your mind feels cloudy, not thunderstorms and impending doom cloudy, but rather a sunny, breezy, nothing could ever go wrong kind of cloudy. You feel taken care of for once, free to slip into a warm, blissful state with Joel. He feels safe.

“Come back, preciosa,” he grins as you make your way back up his body. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you deeply once more, running his hands gently all over your skin as you settle on top of him.

“Missed ya,” he chuckles, kissing your swollen pout a few more times before wetting his fingertips with his spit. He reaches down, circling your clit as his cock twitches against your seam. Your head falls beside his, feeling too heavy to hold up on your own.

Joel protrudes your cunt once more, nestling into you carefully at first. You writhe over him at the push and pull of his cock inside your fluttering walls, hips snapping down against his with subtle slaps of skin rejoicing. He picks up his pace beneath you, overwhelming your senses a bit too quickly.

You work your core to sit up, fully sheathed with his length as you grind against him. He grips onto your hips, watching you use him for your own pleasure. 

“Tan bonita, amor,” he hums smugly, his fingertips dancing along your bare thigh, his other hand tucked behind his head to prop himself up. “So pretty, mami, fuck.”

He tweaks his fingers against your nipples, pinching the pebbled flesh carefully as you ride his lap. Tufts of his neat pubic hair scratch at your clit, the friction of everything causing you to soak his lap further. You’re being pushed to your limits, throat dry and voice hoarse. Joel wishes to have put water on his bedside table, he would’ve had he’d known you’d end up here so quickly. 

“Doin’ okay, sweetheart?” He checks in, toying with your fingers that have found a home on his chest. You silently nod, eyelids low and face contoured with bliss.

“Think you can give me one more, bebita? Come on my cock one more time and I’ll give you whatever you need.”

Your voice hardly sounds like your own, but you mean it when you tell him yes, please. He feels it when you clamp down on his length, his thighs tensing so tight they almost cramp. His legs hinge at the knee, body pivoting you forward into his chest. Joel grabs fistfuls of your ass as he fucks up into you, all of the air leaving your lungs.

His grunts and groans become less calculated and intentional, thrusts becoming sloppier and instinctual. You squeeze him tight, toes curling as you already tumble towards your impending high.

“Mierda,” he hisses, strong arms pressing your torso firmly to his. His lips consume your every breath, whine and borderline scream.

“Take it, use me, amor. Dámelo, cariño, and I’ll give you my cum. Take it from me,” he grunts sharply, pressing into you impossibly deeper and faster. Your skin bursts into flames, embers showering your body as he pulls that final high from you. You shutter above him, dead weight against his body as he uses you to finish himself off. He evacuates your warmth and pumps out his load between your sticky, worn out figures with a drawn out groan. 

Joel makes the first move to stand up, cock softening and hanging between his legs. He starts to step towards his en suite bathroom to find a towel, but you reach for him.

“I’m just gettin’ somethin’ to clean you up, honey,” he smiles before seeing a sadness in your eyes, longing for him to come back. Tears prickle your eyes and Joel quickly makes his way back to the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay, baby, cálmate,” he hushes carefully, holding you close to him. “We’ll getcha cleaned up in a little bit, I’ll make you whatever you fancy for supper and relax with you, sound good?”

A nod suffices his question, knowing you trust him enough to stay rather than run off eases him as he grounds you back to reality with his warm embrace.

to stay up to date on when I post fics, follow @pascalpvnk-writes and turn on notifications! i hope you enjoyed xx

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 2

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 6.3

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, dry humping, degradation, dom!reader, sub!beomgyu, fleshlights, beomgyu being a perv and using oc's panties

You step into the apartment, hoping against hope that you won’t find Beomgyu in there. It’s been a few days since your fight, and you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder–ignoring his text messages, giving him one-word replies whenever he speaks to you, pretending you’re too busy to continue the marathon of whatever stupid show you were currently watching–and every time you do that, he’d look so heartbroken you have to fight for your life to not forgive him then and there. 

But fate hates you, or maybe it was by Beomgyu’s design, because as soon as you step into the living room, you see Beomgyu on the couch, fiddling with his guitar. He looks up when he hears you enter.  

You try to make a run for it, sight set on your bedroom door, but Beomgyu quickly springs up and calls your name. “Wait! I wanna talk to you.” 

“Well, I don't wanna talk to you.” You mutter, bee-lining towards your room, but Beomgyu is quicker. It only takes him a couple of large steps to put himself between you and your bedroom door. 

“Please!” He begs. “Just talk to me.” 

“I don’t want to talk right now.” You try to push past him but he won’t budge. 

“No, please, listen. I’m sorry for kissing you. I was just… I never got an A before. I didn’t think I could get an A. You know me. You know how everyone thinks that I’m so stupid. I know you think that I’m stupid. It just meant a lot to me. I was so excited to show you that I’m not always such a dumbass.” 

You sigh. "I know you're not a dumbass." 

“But I am. I’m such a dumbass and I’m so sorry for kissing you but please don’t leave me.” 

“Leave you?” You stare at him incredulously. “Beommie, I’m not going to leave you. What makes you think I would?”

“Well you haven’t been talking to me. I thought you were done with me.” He says glumly and you laugh. “No, silly. I was just giving you the silent treatment. Never heard of it?” 

"So we’re still friends?" He asks hopefully, tears in his eyes, looking like a kicked puppy. 

"Of course, we are. Don't be silly." You reach out to run a hand through his hair, and he happily leans into your touch. "Okay. Promise me we'll never stop being friends. I can't lose you."

You hesitate. This is why he can’t know you’re in love with him. It would ruin you. "I promise." . 

“Good.” He gives a big sigh of relief before he throws you a mischievous grin. “Are you going to come see me practice for the big gig today? I need my groupie.”

You smack his shoulder. “I’m not your groupie.” 

“You can be. Maybe we can sneak off and mess around backstage.” He pulls you by the hips and rests his forehead against yours but doesn't attempt to kiss you. 

"Beommie… I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?” He whines like a brat, “I won’t try to kiss you again, I promise. I'll be your good boy." 

God, the things those simple words do to you. You could never have imagined the man you’ve thirsted after for years acting so needy for you, but you can’t let this go on any longer. It fucking killed you to have him kiss you, knowing it didn’t mean the same to him as it did to you. If you keep this up, you’ll only open yourself up for more hurt. You have to protect yourself. 

"I just don't want us to get mad at each other again."

"We won't." He tries to reassure you, but you put a hand to his chest and push him away. "No, gyu. It was fun but we can’t do this anymore.” 

He grabs your hand in his and brings it to his lips to press a kiss against your palm, making your heart flutter. "Then what's going to motivate me to do good?"

"Ice cream?" You suggest, taking your hand away, and he groans. “What’s rock and roll about that?” 

You snort. “Your band name is tomorrow by together. There is nothing rock and roll about you guys.”

“Okay, ouch. Groupie invitation revoked.” 

__________________

Watching Beomgyu play his guitar is like watching magic happen. Even when he messes up or is struggling–the way he’s just so immersed and serious about his craft is so inspiring and you feel so lucky to be able to witness it. 

It was a moment like this–seeing him so lost in the music–when you first realized you’re in love with him. And now, a few years later, that love has only grown stronger. 

“He really is an idiot.” You hear a familiar voice next to you and look to the side to see Yeonjun also looking at Beomgyu. 

“What do you mean?” 

“If I had a girl look at me the way you’re looking at him, I would never let her go.” He says so casually as if he hadn’t just exposed your entire guts out to the world. 

“What–-why would you–I–” You sputter, getting even more flustered at the amused look on his face. Damn him. You take a moment to recollect yourself. “Don’t be silly, Yeonjun. We’re just friends.” 

“Are you? Then how come you won’t go out with me?”

You roll your eyes. “Have you ever considered that you just might not be my type?” 

He raises an eyebrow at you, looking at you like he doesn’t believe it for a second. “Oh, please, I’m everyone’s type. What, you don’t like tall, handsome men? Lead singers? Really talented lovers?”

You suppress the blush his last comment intended to entice in you. “I already told you. I can’t go out with a guy who will flirt more with his fans than me.” 

“Aw, are you jealous, baby? You know I can clean my act up for you.” He moves to get closer to you, his hand reaching out to wrap around you, when suddenly Beomgyu steps in between you two. “Leave her alone, Yeonjun.”

“Why? She likes it.” Yeonjun grins, sending you a wink, and you stick your tongue out at him, making him laugh. Yeonjun tries to reach out to mess up your hair in revenge, but Beomgyu intercepts him. 

“No, she doesn’t. Now, leave.” 

“Alright. Alright. Chill. I’ll leave for now but if you’re not gonna snatch her up then don’t blame me for trying.” He sends you a wink, making you blush. “See you later, doll.” 

You bite your lip, staring at the ground to try to get your blush under control. You don’t like Yeonjun like that. Well, at least not near as much as you like Beomgyu, but you still can’t help the effect he has on you. He’s just so charming, and if you hadn’t been so absolutely in love with Beomgyu, you would’ve definitely been under him long ago. 

“You really shouldn’t encourage him.” Beomgyu says irritably, “You know he’s a manwhore.”

You shrug. “I know but it’s still nice to have a man’s attention.”

“Hey, you have my attention.” He protests, and you stay silent, giving him a cryptic look. 

“What?” He narrows his eyes at you, and you shake your head, dispelling any stupid thoughts of confessing your undying love for him. “Nothing. It’s just not the same. You’re my best friend. He could be something more.” 

“Oh.” Beomgyu steps back, frowning. “Um…okay. I understand that, but do you really need it from Yeonjun? I just… he’s my bandmate, you know?”

“I know.” You say, even though you really don’t. Why should that matter? “But he’s sweet and charming–”

Beomgyu groans, cutting you off. “Please. Anyone but Yeonjun.” 

“Beomgyu—”

“Please.” 

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

You don’t know why it matters so much to him but you honestly don’t care. It’s not like you have your eyes on Yeonjun or anyone else but Beomgyu. You’re hopeless anyway. 

__________________

You and Beomgyu have easily settled back into your old routine, pre-hooking up. Like right now,  you’re cuddled up on his bed watching a movie as if nothing had ever happened–as if you’ve never touched him–as if just the feeling of his body wrapped around yours isn’t scorching your skin. 

“I can’t believe we’re watching this stupid movie again.” You groan, shoveling popcorn into your mouth. 

“Hey! I’ll have you know that Top Gun is one of the greatest pieces of cinema ever made.” He defends his favorite movie fiercely. 

“The greatest bore ever made you mean.” You grumble and he kicks your leg. “Shut up. I don’t insult your stupid horror movies when you make me watch them.” 

“You just did!” You retort, and he scoffs. “Well they’re stupid.” 

“Whatever. We’re watching The Shining after this.” 

“No we’re not!” He protests heatedly, and you answer back just as passionately. “Why not? We agreed we would watch one movie horribly picked by you, and another very superiorly picked by me.” 

He looks down at his hands, mumbling quietly. “You know those twins freak me out. I won’t be able to sleep for a week if we watch that.” 

“Aw, Beommie.” You coo, propping a finger under his chin to make him look up at you. “Well tough luck, wuss. We’re watching it.” 

“I hate you.” He whines, burying his face into your neck. 

Yup, all back to normal. You don’t want to cry because just the light brush of his breath against your skin sends your nervous system into overdrive. Nope. You’re all good. Just two friends watching a terrible movie. 

_______________________________

For a guy who just said he’s so afraid of The Shining, he won’t be able to sleep, he sure is sleeping very soundly right now. 

You glare down at him. He made you sit all through that stupid movie and he’s knocked out half-way through yours. You’d wake him up and give him a severe talking to if you weren’t so incredibly, wonderfully comfortable right now. You feel so warm and toasty with his long body wrapped around you like this, and the view you have–his face resting against your chest so close you can count his eyelashes… it was heaven for you. You suppose you’ll let him sleep for a bit more. 

Maybe you should get some shut-eye too. You’ve been so tired staying up all night studying for the test you took earlier this morning that you can’t help dozing off yourself, his embrace more comfortable than a bed of clouds to you. 

You were feeling so fucking peaceful, the weight of sleep helping to push down all your negative feelings that you don’t even pay much attention to Beomgyu’s repeated movements at first, just chalking them up to him shifting around to try to get comfortable like you. 

Sure, it was taking longer than was reasonable and he was pressing himself closer and closer to you each time, but it’s not like you were going to complain. The closer to Beomgyu, the better, right? It’s only when you feel something hard pushing up against your thigh that you realize what exactly is happening. 

"Beommie, what are you doing?" You mutter sleepily. 

He goes rigid and it takes him a while to respond. "...nothing."

You would have let it go if you didn’t still feel his hard cock against you. “Oh, really?” You challenge, moving your thigh up against him, ripping a deep groan from his throat. “Then what is this?” 

“Okay, okay, I really missed you.” He groans, wrapping his entire body around you. “And you just felt too good against me.” 

You scoff. “Have you no self control?” You ask even as you move your thigh against his cock. 

“No.” He admits, full on humping you. “Just need you.” 

“Beomgyu…” You pretend to hesitate, not wanting to let him off the hook quite so easily, not wanting him to see how much you need him too.

“Please, baby.” He begs, voice even deeper with sleep and all husky. That was your undoing. 

“Fine. You can keep going, fuck me.” You ‘finally’ relent, but the spoiled brat isn’t content with that. He tries to pull your shorts down. “Can I actually fuck you?” 

“No! I meant you can fuck my thigh.” You clarify, silencing his emerging protests with your finger in his mouth. “It’s bad enough that I’m letting you hump me like a rabid dog. You don’t get more.” 

“But this is so humiliating.” He whines through your finger before burying his face against your shoulder as he continues to vigorously dry hump you, miming fucking you the best he can. 

"I've seen you hump your body pillow before– More times than I would have liked– This is an upgrade for you, you pervert."

"You're so mean." He whines again and you snort. "I'm helping get your virgin ass off. How am I mean?"

“You’re just so mean.” He cries, grinding fervently against you. 

“And you’ve gone brain-dead again.” You laugh, “Come on, baby. Just focus on getting off. You’re almost there aren’t you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then come on. I want to feel you cumming against my thigh. It would be really fucking sexy.” You drawl, pulling his head back so he can look at you. 

“Y-yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You trace a finger over his perfect lips, resisting the urge to kiss them. Fuck, now that you’ve had a taste, it’s like you’ve developed a craving to them. This is why you should have never let him kiss you. “You’re so pretty, wanna see you lose control.” 

“Okay–okay… if you want it.” He stares at you deeply, and you nod.  

“I really do.” You murmur, “Want you to cum all over yourself for me.” 

“You’re so fucking dirty.” He growls, pushing your legs open and pressing himself between your them so he’s humping your pussy instead of your thigh. 

“Hey! Bad boy!” You screech, stuttering when his cock brushes against your clit. Your hand goes out to grab him by the hair. “Bad b-boy.” 

“Please, please, don’t make me let go.” He pants, his hips driving into yours roughly. “I’m almost there. Gonna cum for you, pretty.” 

You hesitate at the nickname, loosening your grip. 

"No, pull my hair harder. I like it when you’re rough with me."

"Now who's the dirty one?" 

"I can't help it." He sucks in a sharp breath, "You drive me crazy." 

Well, that makes two of you.

"Fuck, Beommie." You gasp, pulling on his hair and making him lose it. The way his cock is grinding against your clit making you reach the edge yourself. If he keeps this up, you might actually…

"Oh god, yes, yes, fuck!' He shudders and can tell by the warmth soaking his pants and the way he presses his hips snug against yours that he had orgasmed. 

Oh well, so much for that. 

"Did… did you cum?" He asks once he had caught his breath a bit. 

"No." You admit awkwardly, a little breathless yourself, and he looks disappointed. "It's okay, I'll take care of it."

"But I wanna do it." He whines. “Let me.” 

"No, Beomgyu." You refuse to let him feel how wet you are right now. He can’t know how much you want him. You can’t let him touch you because if he did, you don’t know if you would ever get enough.

"Why not?” He huffs, annoyed. “Why don't you want me to touch you? Do you find me so repulsive?"

"Don't be ridiculous.” You grit out. How very Beomgyu to be this oblivious. “You’re very handsome.” 

"You clearly don't think so. Otherwise you wouldn't freak out every time I try to touch you." He snaps, “Listen, I know I’m no Yeonjun, but you don’t have to make me feel so hideous.” 

“This has nothing to do with Yeonjun or you, you ass.” You lie through your teeth. "I'm just not ready to let anyone touch me yet, okay? Unlike you I’m not just looking to get my rocks off. This actually means something to me.”

“So it’s okay to meaninglessly get someone off but it’s not okay to let them get you off too?” He calls you out on your flawed logic.

“Yes.” You double down anyway, and he opens his mouth to argue but you beat him to it, realizing you need to end this discussion before you say something stupid. “See? This is exactly why I didn’t want us to hook up again. Maybe we should–”

“No, no! Fine, I’ll back off.” He puts his hands up in the air, literally backing off. “I won’t try to touch you or kiss you or do anything to you anymore. Only you can do what you want.”

“Beomgyu–”

“Please! I really don’t want this to end. It feels good being with you.” He pleads. God, he has no idea what he’s doing to you. It’s unfair that he has this much effect on you and he doesn’t even know it. 

You really shouldn’t say yes. This is only going to end in disaster, if you say yes. 

“Fine.” 

____________

“I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m just going to go home.” Beomgyu exclaims, freaking out in his small dressing room. He and his band have been invited to play at one of the most popular spots in town. It’s a huge opportunity for them, and so naturally it comes with a great deal of pressure, which Beomgyu is definitely feeling. 

“No! You can’t!” You intercept him, holding onto him tightly so he won’t escape. “You’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for years! You can’t just go.” 

“But I am freaking out. I am going to make a fool of myself if I go on that stage. I know I will.” He cries, looking at you with pure panic in his eyes that is actually contagious. But you fight to keep in control of yourself. You have to be the rational one for him. 

“You are going to do great–”

“You don’t know that. They will hate me. They’re boo me. Oh, god, they’re going to throw things at me. I have to go. I have to–” 

You grab his face and kiss him, shutting him up, and even though this time you’re prepared for the kiss, the feel of his lips still takes you off guard. There is nothing in the world that could prepare you for the electricity you feel whenever your lips touch, and this time when you hold onto him, it’s to keep yourself from falling to the ground.

“You won’t.” You tell him once you bring yourself to pull away from the kiss. Or once you run out of oxygen that is. “You’re the most talented musician I know. I know you’re freaking out right now but once you’re out there, you’re going to put on the greatest show those people have ever seen. I know you will, because you’re that good!” 

“You kissed me.” He mumbles, confused. 

“Well, you wouldn’t shut up.” You mutter nervously. 

“Right.” He clears his throat, and it’s silent for a few seconds before he looks at you shyly. “You really think I’m the most talented musician, you know?” 

“I know you are.” You say truthfully. 

“Even more than Yeonjun?” He asks and you roll your eyes. “Even more than Yeonjun.”

He grins widely, triumphant. “Okay. I will go out there and show those fuckers how it’s done.” He says confidently, taking a step towards the stage before he quickly doubles back. “But before I go… another kiss for good luck?”

Oh god, you’re being put through hell and you have no one to blame but yourself. 

“Don’t get used to this.” You roll your eyes, pulling him into another kiss. 

_________________

Beomgyu does amazing. Maybe it’s the stage lights, maybe it’s the sway of the music, maybe it’s the energy of the crowd, maybe it’s how happy he looks up there–but you’ve never been so in love with him. And so proud, and so amazed, and so bewitched. 

And it seems everyone around you thinks the same. The crowd absolutely went wild for him and his band. They cheered loudly after every song. They hooted and clapped whenever one of the boys interacted with them. They enthusiastically answered their questions and followed their requests. It all went so well, you just know this gig has secured them many more in the future, and you like to think that you helped in your own way, by keeping the lead guitarist from running away before the concert. 

Said guitarist grabs you and hauls you off the ground in a suffocating hug as soon as he sees you backstage. “Did you see that? Did you hear how loudly they cheered for us?” 

“So loudly I think one of my eardrums has ruptured actually.” You laugh, making a show of pulling at your ear. “You guys did so amazing, Beommie! The band absolutely blew everyone away!”

“Who cares about the band? I rocked!” He shakes you excitedly. 

“Yes, you did.” You easily give in to him fishing for compliments. He deserves it. “You were the star of the show. I heard so many people around me–”

“Oh my god.” Beomgyu gasps, staring at something behind you. 

“What?”

“It’s Haeun.”

You look back to see the devil herself. “Oh.” 

“Beommie!” She greets him enthusiastically, coming over. Beommie? That’s your nickname for him. You’re the only one who calls him that!

“You did really well.” She enthuses, making him puff his chest out like a goddamn rooster. “Y-you l-liked it?” 

“Of course, I did. I always knew you’re so talented.” 

You can’t help the snort that escapes you, and they both look at you, Beomgyu mortified and Haeun unimpressed. “Sorry, something was stuck in my throat.” You mutter, wishing the ground would swallow you up right about now.  

“Anyways,” She rolls her eyes at you then pins him with a flirty look so thick you think you could actually suffocate on it “What I was saying is that you looked really good up there.”

He gulps, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She coos, stepping closer to him and running her hand down his arm through his sleeveless shirt until she reaches his hand and pulls it up, playing with his fingers. “You really know how to finger those strings, huh? I wonder if the guitar is the only thing you can play?”

Once again, you can’t keep in the noise of disgust that came from deep within you, but this time neither Beomgyu nor her pay any attention to you. 

“Uh—well—I–” He stutters dumbly. Typical.

“Why don’t you and the band come to the party I am hosting Friday? Maybe you can show me those moves up close?” She winks at him. 

“Hell y-yeah. I’ll be there.” He chokes out and she smiles widely. “Great. See you then.” She leans in to press a kiss to his cheek and you almost reach out to scratch her eyes out but you contain yourself. 

She gives you one last snobby look before throwing her hair back and walking off. Beomgyu stares after her, dazed. "Am I crazy or did she just flirt with me?" 

“Come on, Beomgyu, apes are more subtle than her.” You grumble, the fire of jealousy consuming your insides. “Anyways, you know she’s only doing this because you’re becoming successful, right? She always treated you as a loser before, never giving you the time of day, but now suddenly that you gain a shred of popularity, she starts liking you?" 

"Oh." He pauses for a second, and you reach out to pat his back, wishing to comfort him, when he breaks into a huge grin. “So what you’re saying is that I’m popular and she likes me? Awesome!” 

“Ugh.” You storm away, followed behind by a confused Beomgyu.

________________

“Since I did really well today, don’t I deserve a reward?” Beomgyu grabs you as soon as you’re back at your apartment, pulling you flush against him and trying to kiss you.

Now, you would have loved to give in. That kiss you shared earlier still tingles at your lips, but not after what he did. The nerve of him after slobbering all over another woman in front of you!

“Wait until the party, maybe she’ll give you your reward.” You push him away, disgusted at the thought of it. But Beomgyu continues proving to you why he easily wins the title of least aware person in the entire universe. “But I want my reward now.” 

“God, Beomgyu, you really know how to turn a girl on.” You growl, shoving him out of your way. “Go to sleep.” 

"What's your problem?" You hear him ask before you slam the door shut. 

You rip your clothes off–band merch you wore to support the idiot–and put on a long shirt. Which as soon as you settle under the covers, you discover actually belongs to him, his scent all over it and drowning you in unwanted feelings. 

You don’t care that she came on to him. You don’t care that she invited him to her party. You don’t care that he’ll probably go and she’ll make a move on him and he’ll fall deeper in love with her and she’ll have him all wrapped around her finger and–

Okay, you care. You care too much. You can’t handle the thought of it any longer, but you can’t reveal your real feelings. It will be the end of you. No, you have to bottle it all down. 

‘You can’t let it show.’ You think to yourself as you curl into a ball, shutting out the outside world and even your own memories, trying to just be claimed by sleep. 

But the world isn’t that fair, and through your curled form you can hear the sound of Beomgyu moaning out. You can’t quite hear what he’s saying but you’ve heard him enough times to know exactly what he’s doing. 

You bet he’s thinking of her. You bet he’s imagining fingering her. You can’t allow that. Not while you’re lying here breaking over him.

You throw the covers off you and storm to his room, bursting the door open. 

“Hey!” He cries out, trying to cover his junk. 

You roll your eyes. “It’s just me. No need to freak out.” 

“What are you doing here?”

“I heard you from my room.” You say plainly. “You weren't exactly subtle. Now let me see.”

“But I thought you–”

“Do you want it or not?”

He only hesitates for a second, the whore, before he throws the blanket away.  You roll your eyes, getting onto the bed and grabbing his dick, pumping it in your hand. He immediately flops back, relaxing into your touch. “Oh god, I needed this.”

"Yeah? Got all horny from the way everyone was eyeing you up? You know you really gave Yeonjun a run for his money with how slutty you were acting." You mutter bitterly. Yes, you enjoyed the show, but it wasn’t only Haeun eyeing him up. 

Beomgyu glares at you. "Can we not talk about him while you're fisting my cock?" 

“Whatever.” You brush him off, focused on something else right now. "So, thinking of fucking any of your new fans?"

“Hmmm.” He mumbles, and you can see from the way his eyes have gone all glazed that he’s not paying attention. “You. I really wanna fuck you.” He thrusts into your hand, whining. 

"You wish." 

"I really do." He breathes out, and your own breath stutters. Man, this is dangerous but you can’t stop. You speed up your movement, making Beomgyu wince. 

“Wait, dry, dry, hurts.” Beomgyu whines at the chafing feeling, and you almost feel bad for him if it weren’t for his next words. “Why don’t you put it in your mouth to get it wet?” 

You snort, seeing right through him. “You’re not slick, gyu.”

“But it really is dry.” He pouts, making a show of expressing his pain as you continue to jerk him off, and you sigh, removing your hand. “Where is your lube?” 

“In your mouth.” He replies like a smartass and you pin him down with a glare. “I can always stop, you know?”

“Okay, okay, it’s in the drawer.” He gives up, pointing to his bedside cabinet, and you quickly look away from his adorable pout, knowing if you look at it too long you’d just give him everything he wants. 

“What the fuck is this?” You pause in your tracks once you open up the drawer.

“What?” He asks, a confused look on his face that quickly turns to horror once he sees what you’ve fished out of the drawer. 

You hold up a fleshlight and a pair of panties silently, waiting for him to explain. Panties that you know too well, your own fucking panties in fact. 

“I can explain.”

“Yes, please. Explain to me how you’re such a massive pervert who steals his best friend’s panties so he can jerk off with them.” 

“You’re not just my best friend.” He protests lamely and your stupid heart swells up against your best efforts, only for him to smash it to pieces again. “We mess around and you get me so horny, I can't help but imagine what you'd feel like. But I know you don't want that so I had to get creative."

Well, it’s still a compliment, right? He’s jerking off with your panties, not hers. Then again, you’re his roommate and he has easier access to your underwear. 

You throw the items at him. “Show me what you do with them.”

"But I don't wanna… I want you." He whimpers, leaning towards you and trying to kiss you. 

"Tough luck.” You hiss, pushing him away. “I want to see." 

He groans, grabbing the lube and squirting a generous amount onto the toy before pushing it in with his fingers… in and out, in and out. 

Okay, that bitch may have had a point about his fingers. 

"Get to it already." You snap, mouth dry. 

"I'm just getting it ready, sheesh." He mutters, finally lining the toy up with his cock before moving it down his length. 

"Oh…" He sighs, head falling back as the toy takes his cock. 

"Feels good?" You whisper, and he nods, pulling the toy off with a wet sound, taking a second to catch his breath before pushing it down again. 

"God, you're pathetic." You mutter, more to yourself than to him. You're so fucking turned on right now, you’re sure you’re more wet than that fucking toy. "Fucking a plastic pussy because you can't get laid?"

"You wanna volunteer to f-fuck me instead?" He grits out but it sounds more like a moan with how much he's struggling to not succumb to the pleasure. 

“Is that what you think about when you're fucking yourself?" You ask and he hesitates, the toy slipping off his cock. 

God, his cock looked so good–so hard and glistening and thick. You wanna throw that stupid toy away and take him instead… but you can't. So you grab the hand he has holding the toy and make him move it to his cock again. 

He gasps as you push it back down. “Ah…y-yeah. Think about fucking you all the time.” 

It takes everything in you not to put your hand between your legs and rub yourself off right now. “And what do you do with the panties?” 

He freezes, a deep blush dusting his cheeks. “I don’t wanna say.” 

Now that just makes you want to know all the more. “You know I can always leave?” You threaten and he groans, his hips bucking into the toy. “Stop saying that. It’s not fair.” 

“Show me.” You insist and he whimpers, not looking at you as he grabs the panties with his free hand and pulls them towards his face, taking a whiff off them. 

“Oh my god, you freak.” You gasp, your thighs pressing together at the obscene sight. 

“No, please–”

“I didn't say you could stop.” You snap when he drops his hand and stops fucking his fleshlight. 

He whimpers, bringing the cloth back to his face, his tongue peeking out to lick against the fabric. 

“Fuck, you’re disgusting.” 

He whines again, shaking his head. “Just wanna taste you.” 

You cock your head to the side curiously. “You wanna taste me?”

“Uh-huh.” He nods dumbly, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head at the thought of it. Well, who are you to deny him something he wants this badly?

You put your hand down your shorts, nearly making him choke as he watches you rub your soaking pussy a little bit to coat your fingers before bringing them out and holding them for him to see. You spread your fingers apart, showing him the strings of arousal between them. “You want this?” 

He drops the panties and sticks his tongue out like a dog begging for a treat, his hips never ceasing their rutting into his toy, the sticky sound of his cock pushing in and out ringing against your ears.  “Please…please…” 

“Okay, quit drooling.” You mutter in disgust at the saliva falling onto the sheets below, and move your hand towards him. As soon as your fingers are within reach, he takes them fully into his touch, moaning out at the taste. 

He sucks them off, his tongue licking up any juices in between your fingers until there is none left. Then he pants, “More…sit on my face.” 

You pull your hand away, your pussy quivering at the thought but you don’t let it show. “No way. You don’t deserve it.” 

“Why not? I’ve been good. Haven’t I been good?” 

‘Not when you’re thirsting over her.’ You think to yourself bitterly. 

“Please.” 

“I said no.” You shut him down, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun of your own.  Finally giving into the temptation, you slip a hand into your shorts as you watch him continue to fuck his toy.

Beomgyu groans out loud. “Oh, come on. Now you’re just teasing me.” 

“How am I teasing you?” You grin, rubbing your clit as you watch him lose it over you. Yeah, this is why you continue to do this. This will be your undoing. 

“You know how much I wanna touch you. Just come on up and sit on my face.”

“No.” 

“Please. I can make you feel better than your fingers can. Just give me a chance.” 

“Oh please, you’re a virgin, Beomgyu. I know you have no experience. I’m better off fucking myself.” You laugh at him. 

“Yes, I do. Look at this.” He leans forward, pressing his fleshlight against the bed and fucking into it. 

“Is that how you imagine fucking me?” 

“Yeah–you always take it so well.” 

Fuck, he really knows how to get you going. 

You shake your head. “Well I’m not a plastic toy for you to hammer your dick into. I need to feel pleasure too.”

“Then teach me.” He cries out desperately. “You can make me do whatever you want. I won’t say no.” 

“Are you whoring yourself out to me?” 

“Yes. I’m your whore.” He agrees, his dick thrusting wildly into his toy, and you in turn pushing your fingers into yourself and matching his pace, pretending he’s fucking you. “Just please do something. I’m going to burst.” 

“But I want you to burst, baby.” You lean closer to him, brushing your nose against his. “I like how pathetic you look cumming on yourself or in a pocket pussy. You’re such a fucking loser.” 

He’s nearly gasping at this point. “Come on, please. Wouldn’t having my cock inside you feel so much better than your fingers? Just pin me down and use me the way you like. I don’t mind.” 

He’s driving you fucking crazy. You’re one second away from breaking. And maybe you would have, if he hadn’t kept talking. 

“Just need to feel a real pussy.” 

How does he always do this? He always ruins it for himself, always reminds you that you’re just a pair of tits and a warm pussy for him. Not who he really wants, just what’s available. 

You sigh heavily, taking your fingers away from your pussy. “I’m getting bored. If you don’t blow your load now, then you can do it by yourself.” 

“No, no. I can do it. I’m a good boy.”

“Yeah? Are you a good, pretty slut who cums on command?” You mock him, but he doesn’t care. He wants it too bad. 

“Yeah. Just–just give me a kiss.” He pleads, and seeing your face, he quickly adds. “Just a kiss and I’ll empty my balls out for you.” 

Well, it’s not like this would be the most egregious mistake you’ve ever made. You’ve already kissed him. Might as well get this over with and go back to your bed so you can wallow in how you’re nothing but a warm body to him. 

“Fine.” You press your lips against his and he immediately opens his mouth, his tongue licking your lips, trying to push inside. You let him, wrapping your lips around his tongue and sucking on it before brushing against it with your own tongue. Meanwhile, you sneak your hand between you, taking control of the fleshlight and pumping it rapidly over his sensitive cock, not even giving him a chance.

“Do it then. Now.” You demand, your lips still connected together with a thick string of saliva. “Oh god, oh my god, cumming, cumming baby.” 

He kisses you again, muffling the noises of his climax against your mouth, and you take every bit of it like you can never get enough. 

But eventually he pulls back, his high over and not needing you anymore. 

“God, that was crazy.” He says at last. 

“Yeah. Learned a lot about you and what you like to do behind closed doors.” You mutter, and his eyes widen. 

“Listen, it’s not–”

“It’s not what I think, I know. You’re just a pervert who needed some help getting off. I get it. But next time you take one of my panties, I’m breaking your arms.” 

____________________________

A/N: well I think there is one more chapter or at most two left of this series. kind of a short one. what are we thinking so far? always open to hear ideas. i just thought of an ending but i'd love to hear from you guys. maybe i'll be inspired

Taglist: @wonwooz1 @yaorzu-blog @allylikesdabee @rkivezzs @malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop

this was just a provisional taglist as i don't usually do one. it's just a few people have specifically asked to be tagged so there you go

[sanakimohara]

DDLG with seungmin....sounds like a god send🥰🥴

“DDLG” K.S.

Forgive me for the late response to you, love. 🖤 and of course DDLG Seungmin is going to get a spotlight. It’s only fair. 🖤

[ MDNI ]

++++++++

Dom Seungmin is a silent hard Dom. He doesn’t impose verbal control often which leads to you relying on nonverbal communication. When he pats his lap, an empty space beside him, or a perfectly vacant spot near his feet on the floor you don’t hesitate to sit/kneel. No words needed. With a tap of his fingers under your chin Seungmin instructs you to open your mouth wide for him -readying you to suck on his fingers or wrap around his cock. Every action he imposes is a way to instill mindless submission in you. He takes pride in your obedience, rubbing the top of your head lovingly when you listen without having to be told, and you welcome the praise with a tender smile. “Good pup/kitten.”

Dom Seungmin thrives off reading your expressions, can tell when you’re slipping into subspace, and attends to you accordingly. You don’t have to say anything to get his attention because it’s already drifting towards you. What kind of owner doesn’t watch over his pet at all times?… Not him. That for certain.

Dom Seungmin prefers you wear a collar/choker as a sign of his ownership. Out in public you have a charm/tag attached to it with his name engraved on one side but in private a little bell takes it place. Seungmin thoroughly enjoys the soft jingles your collar/choker makes, signaling when you’re near him, or showing off what he knows to be his. He’ll hook a finger under the dainty jewelry, using it to pull you close for a kiss, or hold your gaze when he’s speaking to you. It’s an automatic reflex he can’t seem to shake and you don’t pull away when he does. He owns you. There’s no doubt about that and the smile on your face every-time he admires his brand around your neck makes him fall in love with you all over again.

Dom Seungmin will make you walk around with a vibrator nestled in your cunt all day. You’re not allowed to remove it, touch yourself, or come without his elicit permission. It’s pure torture, a literal hell on earth for you, and um pooling in your panties and inner thighs keeps you fidgeting for hours. You text and call him non stop after the fourth time he’s edged you, wanting to cry as you beg him to stop, or at least be merciful enough to let you come. Your attempts are in vain because Seungmin amps up the intensity of the toy just to hear you swallow desperate whines, and broken whimpers purely for his entertainment. All while mocking your lack of restraint and sulky behavior. “You’ll be fine, pup. Keep it in for a few more hours and I’ll help when you get home…” “Stop? But it sounds like you’re enjoying it, sweetheart..” “What was that? I should set it higher…?” “You’re so cute when you beg, little one.”

Dom Seungmin sends you borderline threatening texts if you’re out in public together and another person so much as looks your way a little too long for his liking. He gets jealous easily and isn’t afraid to show it either. Although, you find it funny to some degree, he’s completely serious about his warnings.

^

“Get away from him.”

“Come here. Now.”

“Stop fucking with my patience, Y/n.”

“I should fuck that smile right off your face. His joke won’t be funny then will it?…”

“Don’t look so scared now, pup. You obviously wanted my attention and now you have it…”

^

Dom Seungmin doesn’t mind that you call him ‘daddy’ or ‘sir’ casually. He’s listening to you either way and prefers you call him such things in private. The one time you did slip up and asked him a question while using his title in public the smuggest smirk was plastered on his face for the entire day. “Should I get the green tea or mocha twist, daddy- ah erm….I mean s-sir….fuck, I mean- Min stop looking at me like that!” You whine while glaring at him, face on fire with embarrassment, and your heart thundering so loud you couldn’t even hear what was going on around you two anymore. He shook his head, quieting his laughter as best as possible before squeezing your hand that was intertwined with his, “The green tea sounds better, pup…”

Dom Seungmin will make you rut against his foot as a punishment. He doesn’t care if you beg to ride his thigh instead or plead for a less strenuous and humiliating reprimand. Whatever you’ve done deserves no leniency and Seungmin isn’t the type to crumble so easily under the influence of round and tearful puppy eyes. Seeing you struggle, writhing around like a bitch in heat excites him more than you realize, and he’ll make you carry on like that until he’s satisfied with the mess you make of yourself. “M’ tired,” you huff through building tears, legs on fire with pain, and your panties soaked through completely, but he makes no move to help you. “Did I tell you to stop?” His voice is low, barely bouncing off the darkened walls surrounding you two, and a shiver runs down your spine as the depth in his tone becomes evident. “No…” you reply meekly, unconsciously rolling your hips to resume your task. Seungmin grins, petting your head appreciatively, and gingerly lifting the top of his boot to press harder on your quivering cunt. You whimper at the added pressure, letting tears fall as another climax curls in your tummy, “Sir…please…n-no more….i wanna rest!” The pitch of your voice rises as the hand in your hair twists and tugs at the strands roughly, forcing your head up to look him in the eyes as he responds in an unnervingly calm whisper, “Good puppies don’t talk back to their master. When you learn that maybe I’ll let you stop. Maybe…”

Dom Seungmin allocates aftercare through discreet gestures. Drawing a bath for you, stocking up on your favorite snacks/drinks so you can indulge in a treat after, and leaving his clothes out for you to wear are common examples. He’s capable of giving you words of affirmation but firmly believes acts of service speak much louder than words. Your obedience to him is matched perfectly with his ability to provide whatever you need/want. It’s a fair transaction of effort on both parts. Seungmin never asks more of you than necessary and you don’t except him to overdo his gratitude. A wholesome midnight walk to get ice cream makes you happier than finding a dozen roses wrapped in silk. That isn’t to say he skips out on gifting you expensive rewards.

“Every pet needs a well earned treat…”

+++++++

So, I’m officially back, and I’m currently going through my inbox to answer requests. I apologize for taking so long to get to them but life is currently giving me lemons and I’m not the best at making lemonade… (that was funny so you better laugh or else…. :/ 🖤) Anyway, I hope you Min Stan’s liked this one… 🖤

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

This hairstyle on him was insanely attractive for no apparent reason. Whoever’s idea it was to style him like this during that era should get a raise, extra paid time off, and a Medal of Honor from Stay. 🖤 Credit to the creator 🖤

[puppietooth]

let me preface this by saying i will love and adore and cherish s3 no matter happens. however, i will say — the one thing i want to see is carmy going out of his way to get back on sydney’s good side.

i’m talking begging for forgiveness, grovelling at her feet, bending over backwards for her.

imagine:

carmy gets out of that walk-in, sees the queasy look on her face, and is already drafting that notes app apology in his head. he tells her he’s sorry and that he fucked up and she tells him they managed to pull everything off without him but she cannot with his bullshit right now.

that hits him like a punch to the gut and, well, he gets it cause it’s definitely deserved.

but as the weeks go on, carmy tries to talk to her she only responds in shrugs, nods, and yes chefs. sydney goes home straight after service, after she helps with clean up, does not linger and talk in the office with him like they did before. carmy tries joking with her and she rolls her eyes more often than not. he asks her if she wants to work on the menu with him and she says no and he gets the feeling that she doesn’t even want to be alone with him anymore.

and that’s when he realizes — fuck. she’s so mad at him.

my girl is mad at me i want to die.

so? what else is carmy supposed to do but the most?

sydney comes in one morning and tells tina she was running late so she couldn’t stop by her favourite spot to get her morning latte. carmy overhears this and takes it upon himself to run to that spot, ten blocks over, to get her that latte. and when he gets back, sweetly and breathless, he gives it to her only to find out it’s the completely wrong order. but syd smiles, just a little, says a small thanks.

during family, he casually hints at the fact that he’s seeing a therapist now — says sorry chef i have therapy saturday afternoon when marcus asks if anyone would be down to go to the farmers market with him. because he needs her to know that he’s trying to get better. for himself, yes, but also for her.

his notifications are on and his phone is never on silent anymore — carmy vows to never miss a text or a call from her ever again.

carmy starts checking in with her about everything. when the walls need to be painted again he tells her, asks sydney if she’s okay with changing the floral arrangements but the bar, lets her know he’s ordering new aprons for the line cooks, runs tweets by her before posting them to the bear’s twitter account. and it gets to the point where syd has to tell him to chill — that she appreciates him not wanting to keep her in the dark, but some things just don’t need her approval. pats him on the shoulder and tells him it’s his restaurant, too.

it might come off as a bit showy but he tells her great work today, chef sydney after every service — because she is doing great work.

when sydney’s finally moving out of her dad’s place carmy is there, bright and early, moving her boxes into his car, trying to avoid the subtle stink eye her dad is giving him. again, deserved. he drives her out to her new place, helps her set everything up and lingers when she asks him if he wants coffee.

carmy shows up for her, everytime. he sets his own priorities aside, swaps them out for hers. sydney says jump and he asks how high?

it all comes to head on her birthday. before service he goes up to her and gives her a present — a scarf, fabric pink and decorated with prints of various different flowers. it’s soft and silky and he saw it on a mannequin in a window front while he was downtown a couple of weeks ago, immediately thought of her. she tells him it’s lovely and beautiful and she’ll wear it all the time but that he really didn’t have to — that he doesn’t have to keep trying to win her over, that she isn’t mad at him anymore, that she hasn’t been mad for a few weeks now, that she can see he’s trying.

then, sydney hugs him, strong and gentle at the same time, tells him — i see you, carmy.

whatever is supposed to happen after that does not happen because fak starts yelling about an exploding toilet from the room over so sydney scoffs and says she’ll go take care of it.

and it’s at that exact moment that carmy becomes aware of what he hasn’t been aware of but that has been there, right in front of him this whole time.

holy shit.

he likes sydney.

he likes her a lot.

[highvern]

Track 6: Thinkin Bout You - Katie

"Because it's four o'clock in the morning, And that's about the time I start zoning // Thinkin' 'bout all the ways that I want it"

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x Reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: one night/two night stand, mutual masturbation, teasing, smidge of exhibitionism, oral sex (f. receiving), strength kink, brat reader as always this happens every time guys

Length: ~1.2k

Note: oh how I love my loser gamer husband and MAYBE this one is longer than 1k but it's wonwoo and yall literally have to forgive me for it.

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy!

Mixtape Series: Me & You Masterlist

main masterlist

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

SATURDAY 3:13AM

Wonwoo: You up? Y/N: seriously? Wonwoo: So that’s a yes Y/N: no Wonwoo: Don’t be like that Y/N: what do you want? Wonwoo: 👀 Y/N: die Wonwoo: C’mon Wonwoo: You know you want to

You’d only hooked up with Wonwoo once. He was a friend of a friend. Not overly outgoing but he made decent conversation if you stopped to speak with him. You could count on one hand the number of times you'd interacted with Wonwoo since he became a part of your friend group. But last weekend, something was in the air and you ended up back at his apartment before either of you knew what was happening.

It’d been good. Good enough that you broke your no sleepover rule. Partly because it was nearing dawn by the time you two calmed down, and the other part because your legs refused to work after Wonwoo seemed to decide his new favorite place was between them.

But you managed to sneak out with shaky legs and smudged makeup long before he woke up. Since then, you pretended it didn’t happen and Wonwoo followed your lead. No texts or calls. No probing from your shared friends. You could almost convince yourself it'd been a weird dream except for the monster hickey on your inner thigh and the mouthwatering memory of his body molded snuggly over yours.

Despite maintaining a nonchalant front, the wall crumbled more and more each minute. Wonwoo opened the door, all you needed to do was step inside and you were guaranteed a good time.

SATURDAY 3:25AM

Y/N: fine Wonwoo: Woah. Don’t get too excited Wonwoo: Come over Y/N: an ancient philosopher once said he who wishes to get his dick wet can put in some fucking effort Wonwoo: Send me your address then little miss attitude Y/N: be here in 30 or don’t bother coming

Not fifteen minutes later Wonwoo has you bent in half at the edge of your bed, your body clad in nothing but ruined panties.

“All for me?” Wonwoo asks from between your thighs. 

You can’t answer, continuing to choke on the promise of nothing but mind numbing bliss since he’s walked through your door. Every inch of your body throbs with the ache of his attention, nipples peaked and a new bruise blooming along the curve of your hip. 

Wonwoo positions you just the way he wants, finding no resistance when lifting your knees atop his shoulders, his head boxed in between. One of his thumbs brush against your panties, your hips stuttering forward to chase the tease of friction. The other makes a path down from your knee to your ass, squeezing before roughly pulling you to the edge of the bed where he kneels.

He’s so close you can feel the ghost of his lips against the back of your thigh. “What’s wrong?” 

Thrashing in embarrassment, you pray he finds a place in his heart to take mercy. As luck would have it, Wonwoo is willing to wait all night, even if it drives him crazy too. 

“Tell me what you want.” His lips grazing the sensitive skin at the crease of your thigh with each word, punctuating them with a painful nip. 

It’s an impasse. You’re too proud to beg, and Wonwoo is too stubborn to give in so easily. He even has the audacity cock an eyebrow when you look down at him perched between your legs, like he knows you’ll crack first. You try to curl your calf around his neck and tempt him forward but Wonwoo resists easily; a delectable flex of his stomach to keep away from where you need him.

“Put in some fucking effort and tell me.” Wonwoo bites into the meat of your thigh.

Everything bleeds red. Winding a hand in his hair, you jerk him away with a sharp tug. The sudden movement catches Wonwoo off guard; startled by the force and giving you room to sit up. Your free hand finds its way into your panties; the initial embarrassment only lasts a second as Wonwoo’s confused expression morphs, the realization of what you’re doing brightening his eyes.

“If you’re gonna make me beg,” you sigh dreamily, wallowing in relief. “Then I guess you’ll just watch.” 

You feel the harsh bob of Wonwoo’s chest as he swallows, whispering a quiet “Fuck” while his hands busy with removing your underwear and for an unobstructed view.  

Once the last scrap of your clothing is gone, Wonwoo resumes his previous position, front and center to the mesmerizing display. His hands find the inside of your thighs, thumbs dipping down to spread you apart. Every ripple and curve privy to his gaze, and the way you clench around nothing clear as day.

Soft hums bubble in your throat, the sheets beneath you rubbing your skin raw as you squirm under your own hands. You can almost forget Wonwoo is there if it wasn’t for the harsh rise and falls of his chest against the back of your legs and the tickle of his bangs against your knee.

Sneaking a peek at the voyeur beneath you, the sight leaves you even more breathless. Wonwoo’s bruised lips part around labored breaths, his chest flush and shiny in the dull streetlights sneaking through the curtains. His glasses are askew but he doesn’t bother straightening them, eyes glued to the hand fucking your cunt, studying the way your fingers twist and curl. Following the path of his free arm, the vaguely familiar rhythm scratches your brain; but a hiss alerts you to the fact he’s touching himself too. When you clench again, more wetness dripping down the curve of your ass to ruin the sheets, Wonwoo licks his lips, pulling his eyes to your face, surprised to see he’s already being watched.

An indecipherable whine is all the permission Wonwoo needs before diving in. The bruising grip around your wrist threatens to cut off circulation but it doesn’t register when he flattens his tongue to lick from your entrance to your mound, the vibration of his rough groan against your clit forcing your legs shut. But Wonwoo hones in, repeating all the attention you’d demonstrated with precision.

It's shameful. The obscene way Wonwoo laps against you, taking every last drop for himself. Your hips cant against his face, almost forcing him off when he delivers a strong suck at the same time he stretches you around two of his fingers. Not to be deterred, Wonwoo wordlessly slugs an arm across your hips. 

Blood rushes through your ears, deafening the broken chant of his name fleeing your lips. The end hits you in the gut, riding Wonwoo’s tongue messily with a harsh grip in his hair to keep him there. To his credit, Wonwoo refuses to stop, the shake of your muscles revitalizing his efforts until the need to breath rips him away.

Dragging his mouth to your own, tasting the remnants of your arousal on his lips, you press a hand into his boxers only to find his soft length and a sticky mess. And then Wonwoo is the one begging.

-

Taglist: @tomodachiii @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[nadvs]

I was reading cam girl for the first time (soooooo f good btw) but what do you think it would be like if she didn’t forgive him? like i feel as though the stuff he said about her was kind of unforgivable, i wanna know your thoughts on what it would be like if she decided that she didn’t want to hear him out?

I just want to know your thoughts or what you think would happen/ like how the story would looks if she never forgave him yk? 😭…. like how the fight would kind of unfold and whether she quits her job, or even how he feels about? (i just like angst LOL)

thank you!! omg yesss when i was writing it, i was like this man will literally have to wait hours for her and get on his knees and beg and grovel if he wants to be with her 🙂‍↕️ same though i love angst so i got you hehe

based on this fic! sad ending (all hurt, no comfort)

when she gets home from the party that night and sees rafe sitting outside her door, she’s in disbelief.

he tries to trail her into her apartment, but she doesn’t want to hear him out. as she’s pushing him out of her place, he keeps telling her to wait and listen but she shoves him out into the hallway and he’s so desperate that he says “i love you” to her on her doorstep.

it takes her back for a moment, and she glares at him as he searches her face for any hint of forgiveness, but she finally says, “you went too far with the things you said and the things you let your friends say. you don’t respect me. the kind of love i want doesn’t look like this.” his heart shatters.

she recounts it all to him, how she knows he said she never says no to him, how his buddy called her a slut and he laughed.

he says, “i’m sorry, okay? i beat that asshole up. and i hate myself for saying that shit. just calm down so we can talk.”

she says, “i’m never talking to you again.”

she shuts the door and he just stares at it with his heart pounding, never having been rejected like this. he’s sure that she must just be mad in the moment, because how can she throw away the connection they have?

it’s hard to control himself because he’s so pissed and heartbroken, but he goes home, sure they’ll fix things. she just needs to cool down.

but she doesn’t return any calls. he even sends her money to get her attention. no response.

he comes to her apartment again the next night and when she won’t open the door, he pleads, “don’t do this. we have to see each other at some point.”

“no we don’t. i quit my job.”

she’s standing in her kitchen, staring at the door, thinking about all the times he came through it.

she wonders if she can just move past this all. but what he said was so horrible that she can’t imagine being happy with him, knowing what he’s capable of.

she called the cleaning agency earlier that day and asked to work at another house. she can’t imagine going back to tannyhill. seeing rafe. dealing with the staff there. and she shut down her account on the cam girl website. she’s done with it all.

“you quit?” he says angrily through the door. “baby, why? i’m so fucking sorry, alright? you can’t end this because of some bullshit i said to my friends.”

“rafe, go.” the tears are thick in her throat. “leave. we’re done.”

he’s terrified to ask, but he has to know.

“do you love me?” he asks. he waits, staring down at the floor.

“i did,” she finally answers.

“you did?” it gives him hope for a second, but reality crashes down on him again.

“i don’t anymore,” she says. it’s a lie, but she knows once enough time passes, she’ll be over him. “go.”

he keeps calling and texting her. he keeps sending her money. he even goes on the cam website, but her account is gone. he tries to find her in case she started a different account, but he can’t.

she never responds to any of his attempts to talk.

about a month later, rafe is at one of his friend’s houses, sitting by the poolside, when he sees her again. he’s been more moody than ever before since their break-up. he’s mad that she threw what they had away. he’s hurt that his apology wasn’t enough.

from the pool, he notices her. he never told his friends her name or what happened, just that things didn’t work out, so they have no idea what a big deal it is that he’s seeing this girl right now.

he stares at her from the backyard as she cleans the sliding door glass. she didn’t really quit. she just went to work at another kook’s house.

she comes out to wipe the other side, the sound of her sliding the door open getting his friend’s attention.

“honey, get us some beers, will you?” his buddy calls.

she turns her head, the frustrated look rafe knows all to well etched on her face.

“i’ll let the servant know,” she replies flatly. “i only clean.”

when her eyes land on rafe, she freezes. she was just thinking about him. she thinks about him all the time. how fun he was, how much he loved spoiling her, how sweet he could pretend to be.

but deep down, he was cruel. she knows he’ll never really see her as more than a sex object. what they had was transactional.

“i don’t get why they’re so sensitive about that shit,” his friend laughs quietly. “like, just get some drinks. i don’t give a damn about your job description.”

rafe watches her rush away.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” rafe mutters, standing to follow her.

“got a soft spot for maids, cameron?” he replies tauntingly. but rafe ignores him.

she tries to gain some composure, hoping that he won’t trail her. but it’s rafe. of course he’s going to find her without any consideration for her feelings or her job.

he sees her rush down the downstairs hallway into a spare room. when she turns at the sound of footsteps, her breath catches when she sees him up close again.

“i thought you quit,” he says, his voice low.

she brushes past him to close the door so nobody overhears. her back is to the door, her eyes wide while she looks up at him.

“i quit at your house,” she replies. “what do you want?”

rafe’s brows pinch in a mix of sorrow and frustration. he missed her voice. the way she used to talk to him. over her computer. in her bedroom.

“is he always a dick to you like that?” he asks. she tries not to look at his toned body, droplets of pool water scattered over his chest.

god, she misses his body. his touch. everything.

“i don’t care what he says,” she replies. “this is just a job.”

rafe tilts his head, gazing at her with disbelief.

“is that right?” he mumbles. “was it just a job with me, too?”

she stills. throughout their time together, she thought to herself over and over that being his own personal cam girl was something she’d do for free. she genuinely enjoyed her time with him.

and because she’s not interested in playing a game, in being eaten alive by her pride and later regretting it, she’s honest.

“i would’ve done all that stuff with you without the money,” she admits. “i fell for you. but i was always just body parts to you and i respect myself too much to-”

“why are you so fucking stubborn?” he interrupts. “i told you i love you.”

“no, you just love using me.”

“so, i’m a liar?” he scoffs.

“i’ll never forget what you said. i’m a slut to you.”

“no, you’re not,” he says tersely. “do i have to fucking beg?”

“you don’t have to do anything,” she says, “because nothing will make me want you again. i have work to do. don’t follow me.”

she leaves the room, wiping the tears building up in her eyes away.

rafe wants to punch a wall. he wants to destroy everything in this room. and the only thing keeping him from doing it is knowing she’ll have to clean it up.

he leaves without saying anything to his friends. he wishes he never saw her. because hearing that nothing will make her want him again is something that’ll replay in his head over and over. it’ll haunt him.

he won’t open his heart up to a girl ever again. he swears it to himself. nothing is worth this agony.

[yaemikomine]

SHOULD’VE SAID NO.

summary: your best friend slept with your man and you decide to take revenge by sleeping with her ex Featuring : Ken Ryuguji part 1. masterlist

“ You should’ve said no, you should’ve gone home you should’ve thought twice before you let it all go”

“Bitch fuck you” you screamed out into the air, cross faded on a mixture of weed and whiskey. After you found out by your now -EX- boyfriend that he had cheated on you with your best friend of two years last weekend at a party, you trusted him in going by himself - turns out you shouldn’t have trusted him because after he slept with her they started hooking up on the low.

You guess he felt really bad because he was the only one who came forward and told you what they had been doing. In a fit of rage you spammed your also now -EX- best friend with messages of you just calling her many things while your ex was also blowing up your phone apologizing -telling you- begging you for forgiveness and telling you that it meant nothing to him, that he only loved you n he loved you more than anything

Once you were done texting her everything, you went to message him - you said how you could never forgive him nor her, how you want nothing to do with them anymore, how she can keep his tiny dick - just going off on him and than blocking him before he could say anything else to you about how he only wants you.

“You shouldn’t be begging for forgiveness at my feet, you should’ve said no, baby, and you might still have me”

It’s only been a week - and it’s been hell for you. Your ex hasn’t gotten the hint that you really don’t care n keeps texting you on random text free sites how he missed you, but he’s literally dating your ex best friend n telling you this. You contemplate getting a restraining order, “it’s probably easier than having him blow up my phone” you think before you get a ding from your phone. You pull it out of your pocket to check. “It’s this bitch.” You sign and open the text message. “I don’t know why I need to tell you this but MY MAN don’t want you nm so fuck outta his phone” you had a look of disgust and confusion on your face that just said, “what the fuck…”

you reply back quickly with, “don’t nobody want your man besides you hun, keep him” griping your phone tightly, almost thinking it will crack under the grip of your hand. “Mhm sure, but you still on his phone texting for him back”

“This bitch has to be delusional” you almost guarantee you would laugh if this whole situation doesn’t involve a home wrecking whore ex best friend. “I don’t know what you’re on about - but I’m not in his phone… so how about you get the fuck outta MY phone before I fuck your ex” you’re in the middle of a cafe, sitting down - knowing you hit a nerve by the way it seems like she’s writing you a paragraph because she’s taking too long - almost like she truly doesn’t know what to say. “Nah you wouldn’t… that’s too far even for you”

“Bitch…be fr” you whisper quietly at your phone, “how are you gonna say it’s too far but I guess you didn’t think it was too far when you started fucking my bf” you sent it and then send another text, “ngl I would tho he bad asf” you already know she’s fuming - you smile to yourself, proud you even thought of that.

“You’re not his type so try again bitch” you already know what to say, thinking of everything. “Sure let’s see hoe” before blocking her and getting to work with your plan. You get to texting her fine ass ex, Ken Ryuguji.

“You say that the past is in the past, you need one more chance - it was a moment of weakness and you said yes”

You planned to accidentally bump into him at a college party and make small talk, flirt - get him upstairs, and get hot and heavy with him. You’re ecstatic, just thinking about him gets you turned on quickly - shaking off the nerves, you began to get ready to pull up to the party. Getting ready at your friends house, Emma - you both take your time in looking good, making sure not one thing looks bad with you two.

“Bitch are you scared or nervous for doing this?” Emma says, putting her hair up into a cute claw clip. “Uhh sorta… I guess i don’t know” setting your face and putting on blush. “Well I mean anyone would be but jus fuck it cause you’re getting revenge. Don’t nobody deserve what they told you so now you gon say fuck it, right?” She was especially mad because she told you he wasn’t good for you and you didn’t listen. “Yea fuck it” you both pregamed and took cute photos to post later on - then going on to the party.

On the way to the party, your nerves are now in the roof - shoving them back inside, “girl you gotta do this” on your phone, scrolling through insta. “Bitch we almost here so, you know what you gotta do” you smile at yourself from the camera on your phone, “i know, I know” looking at her, you blow a kiss to her face before kissing her cheek. She smiled at you from the corner of her eyes - pulling up to the party, parking the car - you and her immediately get out of the car n walk through the door.

You and her both go looking for the drinks, excited to get drunk and chill the nerves - Emma makes her way to the mountain of bottles on the kitchen counter, you follow close behind her. You grab a cup and pour whatever entices you - perking up as you hear the familiar voice of Draken, you look around slowly as to not seem like you’re looking for him or anything like that. You catch him in the corner of your eye - perched on the couch, smoking a fat blunt - more rolled blunts and weed on the coffee table in front of him. you smile to calm the nerves coursing through your body. And then the games began - you make your way over to him.

“Ken~” you flirtatiously walk over to him, attracting and bewitching the looks of other people surrounding him. He looks over to you - taking a hit of the blunt that was in his hands, “hey” he replies back to you, his glassy baked eyes looking you up and down. “this boy so fine…” you think as you sat down right besides him on the comfy love seat, squishing you both together. You look up at him, “I didn’t know you were gonna be here - you didn’t tell me..” grabbing the blunt from his hand, softly, you take a hit from it - blowing the smoke in his face as he looks you in the eyes.

It didn’t take long for it to hit, “you sure you should be doing that” he eyed you for a while before taking it from your hands. “Yea, I do actually”

“You can see that I’ve been crying, and baby, you know all the right things to say. But do you honestly expect me to believe we could ever be the same?”

It didn’t take long for you both to find your way upstairs, heatedly making out - you feel his dick on your inner thigh, “goddamn he’s big as fuck…” a thought in your mind, grabbing the back of his hair - griping it as he opens the door into a room. You feel bad for whoever’s room this is, knowing you’re both going to leave a mess.

You push him on the king sized bed - kissing down his body, you’re on you’re knees, unzipping his pants. His cock springs up at you, “he really is big” you think as you pull it out of his boxers. You immediately stroke it, hearing the soft moans coming out from above you - you look up at him, and he looks so majestic. “Ken~ you look so pretty, making you into this… can I take a phone?” You question, he’s tight lipped but nods a sign yes. Flipping out your phone - still stroking him - you snap a quick photo before flinging your phone across the floor.

Putting your lips on the tip, stroking the rest of his length, “ugh my hair is in my face…” and it’s almost like he read your mind because he immediately puts his hands into your hair, making a ponytail with them. Going even further down him, you gag, looking up at his and you don’t seem to care because the faces he makes is enough for you to be satisfied right now.

You go back up to the tip of it, kitten licking the pre-cum. And than once again going further down him, inch by inch. Both your hands going up and down the rest of him you couldn’t go down, going the same tempo your mouth is. One hand goes down to play with his balls - his moans getting louder - and it seems like that was the last thing he needed before he cums into your mouth. You keep going tho, swallowing most of it but some dribbling down your chin

You pull off of him, mouth full of his seed, and smile at him as he catches his breath. You get up off your knees, pushing him down onto the bed. You slide up and down his dick, your panties the only border between both him slipping inside of you. Pulling off your panties - you get back on top of him. Sliding him between your folds. Moaning at the sensation as he looks up at you with slanted eyes, hands on your ass. Your hands on his chest.

Putting a hand down, gripping his manhood, slowly you push him inside of you - moaning at how good he feels, “look at you ma… you look bad as fuck like this” he says, looking up at you as if you were the only thing that mattered to him right now. Smiling at his words - you get to work on making both him and you feel good.

You go up and down his big dick - if anybody heard you outside of the room they would definitely think you guys were filming a porno with how much moaning you’re doing. Throwing your head back in pleasure, you continue in jumping on him, wanting so badly to reach your climax.

“Fuck…ken, you’re so big” you manage to moan out, your hands on his chest and his still on your ass, slightly pushing you up and down his dick.

“It’s strange to think the songs we used to sing. The smiles, the flowers, everything is gone. Yesterday I found out about you. Even now just looking at you feels wrong”

You’re both laying down on the bed - the smell of sex, weed, and sweat surrounds the room. You’re on his chest laying down, softly. “So…” you’re speechless and so is he because he says it as well. “Uhm so I think I should go before Emma notices I’m gone…” you slowly get up off his chest, feeling bad for leaving him there - you grab all of your clothes, putting them on as he watches you in silence. You pause for a minute, before waving bye to him and walking out the door. “That was the best dick I’ve gotten…” you think, stunned as you walk down the stairs. “Bitch there the fuck you were - I’ve been looking for you everywhere” Emma grabs you by the shoulders - sniffing you - “Girl… did you actually do it…”

you nervously smile at her as a sign of “yea I did girl…” she’s not mad but drags you out the door and into the car. It’s about 3 AM by the time you both are on the way home. You suddenly remember about the whole reason you fucked him, pulling out your phone and going into the chats between you and her. Sending her the beautiful photo of Ken, flushed and moaning heavily - “turns out I was just his type. Try the next bitch hun” you put your phone down on your lap again

By the time you and her get home, you check your phone again and there’s only one msg. You smile giddily because this time draken messaged you.

[givethemsmut]

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Ten | Where It All Started…

Dom sat on the couch, his long legs spread out and his whole body screaming he gave up. We couldn’t keep fighting, hurting each other to call it even and running away when it got hard. We had too much to loose.

His voice was quiet, matching his exhaustion with this saga. Neither of us giving up or wanting to, forgiving wasn’t something we did often. “You have to tell me how to fix this. We have a child coming.”

“I need you to tell me everything. I have to know it was nothing but sex, Dom. Zero feelings.” Sitting down beside him I waited for him to speak.

“How are you gonna know that from me telling you?” Shifting towards me so slightly I planted myself on the couch next to him.

“I’ll know. I’ve seen how you handle me. I’ll know the difference.”

I was on the edge of my seat waiting for him to show me when he got on his knees in front of me and his body was so close to mine it physically hurt.

“It was in a hotel room like this. She texted me to hang out and I told her to come over. She was sitting on the couch like this when I told her it’s no strings, that I have someone at home waiting for me.”

Sitting on the couch I felt his hands drag me further to the edge as he continued, “I kissed her and she didn’t taste like you. I kept telling myself it didn’t matter, I could close my eyes and pretend.”

My legs fell apart and my mouth fell open as his fingers yanked my pants down my legs with no push back from me. I asked to see, to know, and he was delivering.

“I kissed her like this…” his mouth caught mine and I could taste the way he always did, minty.

“I put my tongue in her mouth,” his hand cradled my face and I felt his mouth open on mine, feeding me his tongue. My back arched and I closed my knees so slightly I felt his body tense. In a breathy exhale he tried to level his breathing when he whispered between us. “Then I touched her here…”

His fingertips draw small shapes and hearts on my skin, tickling my sides and flirting with touching my tits under my shirt.

He spoke and I acted each awful thing out.

“Where were her hands when you kissed?” I begged to know more. I wanted to hurt more, anything to hold onto reasons to not fall for Dom completely.

“Under my shirt,” letting my hands explore the same way I leaned in enough to let him kiss me deeper.

“We made out for a while because I wasn't getting hard. She didn’t moan like you.” Almost on cue I whimpered for more even though I shouldn’t. “Fuck, that’s my weakness.” His hand dropped between us, squeezing himself through his shorts. 

“She didn’t care you had someone?”

“A lot of people don’t, babe. She knew I wasn’t all there. She knew I just needed a warm body.” He confessed and it validated me entirely.

“Warm body?”

His grip found my hips again, grabbing onto me more aggressively and pulling me forward. “To kill the loneliness. Warm body. No strings.”

I let my body relax with every kiss. I wanted to scream, scream I hate him and her for replaying in my mind more than I could handle but I stayed silent.

“It’s more than a body when someone turns you on…” I whispered between simple kisses while Dom’s fingers outlined the seam of my panties.

“What do you want me to say, mi amore? You want me to cop to not getting instantly hard for someone else? You want me to admit I was attracted to her?” His tongue tangled with mine even though I wanted to push him away. “I’ll admit whatever you want baby. She kept kissing my neck, rubbing, trying to get me harder.”

I did exactly what he said but Dom was already hard for me. Sneaking my hand over his crotch I whimpered feeling him jerk against my palm.

“What did she say?” I asked while my hand rubbed his length in his shorts.

Trying not to groan or make a sound his head fell backwards against the back. “How wet she was, how much she wanted me…” His hand grasped over mine and his forehead landed on my chest. It made me angry when he said other women were telling him the details of their panties and what my boyfriend did to them. Sneaking my hand inside his underwear I slipped off the couch, both of us on our knees, bodies pressed against each other.

“Fuck. Fuck baby, you gotta stop.” His hand squeezed mine. “It’s you. I can’t fucking… I can’t control myself if you push me too far. No amount of anger or fighting will keep me from making that pussy mine.”

“She got on her knees, right? Like this.” I was flirting with the pain, seeing how far Dom would let me push him.

“Yes.”

Dragging the band down enough to let him pop out I let my hand close around his girth.  Chasing his mouth I nipped at his lips until the back of his hand grabbed the back of my neck enough to keep me close. Pushing him on the couch I watched him willingly let me take control.

“Fuck, mi amore.” He dragged out the words.

Dropping my head in his lap I got comfortable between his legs. Taking his tip in my mouth I dragged my lips down just enough to swallow his tip. Teasing him I let my mouth tighten before the familiar pop sounded around me. “How did it end?”

“She asked me to come in her mouth and I couldn’t…” His erratic breathing hinder the smoothness of his voice when he continued, “I apologized a bunch and asked her to leave. Once she did, I got into bed and called you. Like I should have… I asked you to get into bed, get your toy out so I could come hearing you moan my name. Like a good little girl you fucked that toy for me.”

“You were touching yourself?”

Biting his lips he responded, “I had to come baby. I needed you, I just fucked up first.”

I watched his hand stroke himself and I got even more wet. “You want me to touch myself in front of you?”

“No, I want inside that pussy. Just like yesterday, baby. Please.” Dragging me back to his lap my legs shook and my stomach erupted with lust. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” I said honestly.

Grabbing my ass, I felt Dom’s fingers bully between my legs. “What about last time? You know you want this, hermosa.”

“I couldn’t watch you touch yourself, I folded.” 

He started stroking himself painfully slowly and moaning into my neck. “Like this, baby? I fucking need you to come all over my cock. I wanna be covered in you. You know I’m fatter than any toy you use, baby. You should have been mine years ago. You never should have used fucking toys to get off.”

I shivered on his lap at the arousal in my body. I let out a small moan without touching myself. “We should take a break. I don’t think I can share you and you’re gonna be on the road a lot. I understand not wanting to be lonely.”

Getting off his lap I stood up on shaking legs, “I just need a few minutes alone please.”

Holding onto me he whispered, “So you can finger yourself? Stop pretending you don’t need me. We aren’t teenagers anymore. It’s okay to need this. I’m not saying you can’t hate me afterwards.”

“Dom. Letting you touch me will make me forgive you. It always does. Please just let me hate you a little longer.”

“Hate me baby but I’m not watching you fuck something other than my cock.” Standing up he guided me to the bedroom watching me riffle through my bag for my vibrator despite his hallow threat.

Ignoring his presence I took off my top and panties. Completely naked I got into bed while Dom followed suit. His muscles and all the tattoos he collected showed. His fingers caressed my legs when I turned it on, teasing between my legs, trying not to moan.

“Fuck baby. This is exactly what you did when you wouldn’t let me touch your pussy.”

Twisted over on my hands and knees, I held it between my legs, pushing back on it and letting myself moan Dom’s name. It wasn’t until I moaned his name I felt his body push against me. “Stubborn still. I’m right here baby. You don’t need some fucking toy.”

I felt his hand stop me, replacing my toy with the tip of his own cock. “We aren’t teenagers anymore. We are gonna have setbacks. We aren’t breaking up. You’re having my baby. I’m gonna be sorry and I’m still gonna make you come.” 

Kissing up my spine he whispered a single I’m sorry with every kiss until my hand stopped holding the toy altogether. Tossing it to the floor his knuckles brushed the inside of thighs, “That’s never gonna compare to me. I know every single spot.”

Dom took me from behind, hips thrusting into my ass and when we came our bodies trembled. Dom folded over on top of me trying to catch his breath.

“Who was it?”

“She does interviews backstage. Jackie. She knows I’m basically married to you.” He said it so plainly.

I decided to let it go right there. I had no other choice except walking away and I was pregnant. I couldn’t do that to our baby. I wouldn’t survive another mistake on my record.

His arms engulfed me, pulling me into his chest as he cuddled me. We both fell asleep even though it was the afternoon.

When we finally woke up Dom jumped out of bed and rushed to survey the room for our belongings. “Fuck. I’m late. Babe wake up.”

Begrudgingly I woke up and rubbed my eyes to wake up. “Second show, same venue?”

“It sold out so they added one. Fuck. Do you wanna come or stay here?” He asked, grabbing his duffle. 

Getting up I threw on his sweatshirt without a bra or shirt and found a pair of my own comfy pants. I didn’t care about impressing anyone. “Don’t forget your bag. After the show we get on the bus.”

Leaving the room he jammed his thumb into the elevator button and answered his silent phone. Pinching it between his ear and shoulder he spoke. “Yes, Rhea, I'm coming. I was late.”

Her Aussie accent came through clear, “Alright stud!”

“It’s not like that. At all. We fell asleep.” Taking my hand I followed and he continued to talk to his work wife.

Once we were at the venue everyone was buzzing around. Everything was coming to life. It was overwhelming to say the least. I felt out of place and in the way. “Stay here, okay.”

I did what I was told when I parked myself in some random location that was unidentified. Randy came over, shirtless and in his gear, “Kiss and makeup yet?”

“Don’t you have to warm up or something?” I asked unamused. 

“When did you start hating me because Dom does?”

I stared at him trying to assess his words. “I don’t hate you but that doesn’t change that nothing is going to happen between us.”

“You mean more than what already happened.” He watched my face fill with guilt and shame before he laughed. “Dom has no idea we hooked up. That’s fucking gold.”

“Dom and I weren’t together. We were roommates. He doesn’t need to know.” I suddenly felt like a hypocrite for my own secrets. We weren’t together at the time.

“Oh sweetheart, he saw me kissing you in the elevator, I’m sure he already knows.” Stepping very close to me I backed away into the wall. “It was a good ass night. I haven’t forgotten it.”

“I’m pregnant with Dom’s baby, Randy. We’re never gonna happen.”

“When he cheats again, call me. I have no problem FaceTiming you to get off.” He winked at me and my whole body cringed.

Randy was walking away when I saw Dom talking to a beautiful woman. Grabbing his arm and stopping him I asked, “who is that?”

“The woman he fucked. Offer still stands for round two. I’m still waiting for my turn, princess.”

Back in Florida Dom was training twenty four seven and going to every WWE event he could. Even the fancy ones. When WrestleMania was in town he asked me to go with him.

So I did.

I put on the fancy, revealing dress and the heels to match. Dom would always look so handsome in his suits.

His dad hired a car for us so neither of us would have to drive. Slipping inside the car Dom wouldn’t stop looking at me with this goofy smile. “Fucking gorgeous.”

After a minute of staring I simply told him, “We can’t, Dom. This is a work event for you.”

His long legs were spread out, “Your right but we get too tipsy and fuck after I can’t help it.”

We were living together on our own for a year now, no slip ups or even sightings of other people. Just a lot of teasing, flirting, masterbating. It was torture. 

The Hall of Fame was a huge event full of legends when we sat through the three hours of speeches and tributes. Some of it was lost on me but growing up with Dom I caught onto a lot. 

The one person I had ran into at every wrestling event since I was eighteen was here. Randy Orton. Every year he would hit on me, touch my ass, whisper sweet nothings in my ear. For years he was married but now he was divorced, sans ring. 

Randy was the polar opposite of Dom. He was built like a gladiator, sleeves of tattoos, shaved head, cocky. Dom was alternative, quiet, humble, slender muscles. I don’t know how I was attracted to both but I was. 

Scanning the room Dom was talking to stiff looking men when I went to the bar to grab a drink. “Whiskey, neat please.”

From behind me I felt a hand on my ass and body creeping up to me. “Dom,” I whispered but when I looked over my shoulder it was Randy. “I know he’s a love sick puppy over you but he’s not brave enough to touch you in public. He’s been housebroken.” 

“And you're not?” His hand was still on my ass, only now he was in front of me, hand around my body. “Aren’t all the bosses here?”

“I know my value. And I’m a villain here, I can break the rules.”

“Hate to break it to you but touching my ass isn’t really adding to your bad rep.” His fingers dug into my ass, truly grabbing, it made me gasp.

Leaning down into me his hand snaked from my ass up the side of my body where the dress went bare. His fingertips were calloused and rough against my skin unlike Dom’s. They didn’t stop, caressing the side cleavage of my dress. His thumb disappeared in my satin dress, nudging my nipple when my body melted. 

Whispering into my ear, “don’t dare me, princess. I’m competitive.”

“Dom could see.”

“Are you together or does he just wish he made a move?” Randy’s hands were touching my tits and I got wet knowing we were in public. 

“We’re just friends. I don’t wanna hurt him. We took each other’s virginities. It’s complicated.” I whispered back.

“And now he wants to fuck you again but you keep saying no? So I’m guessing you don’t take guys home or anything.” His head dropped and his lips touched my neck. “I can make you feel good baby.”

“I haven’t without anyone but Dom.”

“Sit on the barstool.” I did as I was told and Randy stood in front of me. Pushing up my satin dress his hand touched my bare thighs and smiled when he realized I wasn’t wearing panties. “No panties? Damn, you’re torturing him.”

“Open your legs, princess. Don’t moan out loud. I’m gonna put my fingers inside of you.”

Opening my legs enough for his big hand I felt the pressure of three fingers fighting to stretch me out. “Oh fuck,” I whimpered into Randy’s suit jacket. 

“That’s how big I am. Do you wanna come, princess?” 

“Not here. Anywhere but here.”

Randy took me back to his hotel and guided me to his bed. “Do you wanna take it slow baby?” His mouth found mine while he pulled me on his lap. Sitting on the edge of the bed our mouths opened on each other for our tongues. His hands worked to undo his dress pants when I looked down between us at the monster. 

Pulling my dress straps down he felt my tits, pinching the nipple and putting his mouth tightly around my nipples. 

Laying back he pulled my dress off entirely, staring at me. “Goddamn baby. Look at this body. Perky tits, tight ass pussy. We’re gonna have fun.”

“Don’t be mad. I have to take it slow. Please.” My hands were shaking and everything in me was betraying Dom.

“Here baby. Just ride it like this. You decide when you sit on it.” 

Rocking my hips I felt him adjust his cock to be wedged between my pussy lips so he wasn’t inside me. “Fuck, just like that baby. Ride it.”

His tip bullied my clit and I shook on top of him. “Randy, Randy…” I cried out knowing I was going to come. 

“Come all over me baby.” Once I did he used his strength to push my pussy up to his mouth. “Fuck me. Pussy juice is so sweet, baby. Ride my tongue.”

His tongue pushed inside me and I felt a rush force me to grab the headboard. I rode Randy’s tongue inside me like I rode Dom’s dick. 

I left Randy’s hotel room ashamed, guilty, everything I didn’t want to be. It was that night I realized no amount of other men were going to stomp out the love I had for Dom.

Now Randy was using it as leverage.

[rafesgoldrings]

imagine topper or kelce leaving because of rafes possessiveness. like it’s been constant of “it’s mine” and shit and they finally get fed up 😩

Topper would be the one to leave, Kelce gets equal treatment and has never been told he can’t do something the way Topper has. You’d be furious that Rafe had pushed him away, blowing up his phone with calls and texts begging him to just talk it out and come back. He’d go a week with no contact, not even bothering to let you know he was okay, before he finally called you and agreed to meet up. You’d agreed to the country club, that way it was an open setting and hopefully they two boys would keep things calm and peaceful when they talked knowing other people would be able to hear if they got too loud. Rafe would be annoyed, insisting there was nothing to talk about because ‘Topper was just being a little dramatic bitch’, which earned a slap on the head from you and a look that absolutely would have put him six feet under if looks could kill. You’d all sit at a table that was more secluded from everyone else, ordered your food with fake smiles, and alcohol for you because you couldn’t do this sober. “You wanted to talk, so let’s talk” Topper would initiate the conversation, you’d tell him that you were sorry if you or Rafe ever made him feel like he was less than of like he wasn’t a part of the relationship. Rafe would roll his eyes, not ready to admit that he may have taken it too far a tiny bit, and you’d kick him from under the table and glare at him. “Fuck okay, i’m-hm-i’m sorry…if it seemed that way. Maybe I got too carried away, I don’t know why there’s this constant silent fight between us. But i’m sorry, you’re just as much part of this relationship as Kelce is and we’d like it if you came back” you knew it was hard for him to apologize. Could see it in the way he swallowed harshly and avoided eye contact the whole time. Top was silent for a few minutes and you worried that maybe this was too much for him to forgive, that he was done with this and couldn’t handle it anymore, but then he grabbed both of your hands and offered a genuine smile. “I forgive you, I think maybe I hold resentment towards you because you were right about Sarah and you’re her brother. You warned me about her, but at the time I was just so wrapped up in her that it felt like you were trying to sabotage my happiness and I’m sorry for that. What we have is good, it makes us happy, makes me happy. I should have just talked to you both about it, i’d be more than glad to come back. I think we just need to communicate better and maybe talk about boundaries beforehand” you gave him a big smile, leaning over and kissing his cheek to make it look like it was just three friends sharing good news to avoid suspicion. Rafe gave him a true smile, flashing his pearly white teeth as squeezed his hand. The three of you letting go when the waiter came back out with your food. You’d pulled your phone out and took a photo of the three of you smiling and sent it to Kelce with a message saying ‘Ropper made up, foursome tonight?😏’ and getting an immediate ‘hell yeah baby’. You smiled as you turned your phone off and placed it on the table, enjoying your food with your favorite boys without competition.

Tag List: @sweetestdesire @xyzstar @congratsloserr @madelynie @outerbankspov @dreamingwithrafe @lcvelylies

[vamossainz55]

"do you think.. we can go back to what we were?" + charles

a/n: hope you enjoy bby! vv short but angsty (sorry for doing charles that way)

tw: mentions of cheating

part of my drabble party <3

back to the start -- (cl16)

The air is thick around you both, so heavy that you can barely breathe. You realize that this time, you really are done, because for the first time ever, you feel like you don’t recognise the person right in front of you.

He looks sorry, regret supposedly written all over his face as he comes to grab your hand but you can’t let him do that, you can’t let him rope you in again. 

“Don’t.” You say, voice cold and distant as you take a heavy step back. 

“Please, I’m sorry.” He says, practically pleads, and it hurts. It hurts like hell, because despite all of your efforts to forgive him, to understand him, to rebuild the relationship from the pieces he had already destroyed, it only took him one night out to burn it all down again. 

“You fucked up Charles, again, and again, and again.” You accepted every single apology before, lies masked with soft kisses, gifts, crocodile tears. 

“I love you,” but he doesn’t, and a part of you wonders if he ever really did. You wipe your own cheeks, shaking your head as Charles continues to beg. 

“Don’t lie to me, don’t look at me right in the eyes and tell me you love me. How dare you?” Your voice cracks for the first time that night and you have to tear your eyes away from him. You’re not sure if you feel more betrayed or embarassed at this point, the argument becoming all too familiar by now. 

“You’re not sorry you did it, you’re sorry you got caught.” You have to take a deep breath, feeling lightheaded already. Charles continues apologizing, explaining that he had one too many drinks, and that she approached him first.

You almost laugh at his words, every single explanation being reused.

You wish you had known better, you knew how Charles was when it came to relationships. He’d do anything for the one he loved, anything apart from being faithful. 

Maybe if you had stayed on the sidelines this wouldn’t have happened, you wouldn’t have to say goodbye but a part of you thinks though, believes, that for a fact, it was inevitable. Because at the end of the day Charles can’t let anything come too close without breaking it. 

“I need to go Charles,” You murmur, defeated as you step towards the door. “Please don’t call me, don’t text me, don’t reach out to me.” 

“But, I need you.” Charles says, “You’re my best friend.” The words linger in the air and you force yourself to not turn back, to not look at him. 

“I can’t anymore, I can’t let you do this to me.” You murmur, shaking your head. 

"Wait, please just wait. Do you think.. we can go back to what we were?” 

You turn a bit this time to look at him, and for the first time ever, instead of regret you see remorse in his eyes and despite the ache in your chest you don’t step any closer. 

You shake your head. “There’s nothing to go back to anymore.” 

[hockey-fics]

Rather Forgive You Than Lose You ~ Brock Boeser 

Summary: You really believed that once a relationship was over it should stay over. But maybe there were exceptions to that rule, and maybe you were one of those exceptions. 

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: Drinking

Author’s Note: I don’t really like this one but I want to post something that might get the ball rolling on me writing and posting more. So this was written very quickly and edited just as fast, please don’t expect my best work. 

The sun is shining through your window and you’re squinting, a dull ache in the back of your head from the drinks you had the night before. As you slide the coffee pot back into the coffee maker you feel Brock’s hands slide along your waist. Leaning back against his warm body your eyes flutter shut, but only for a second, because you weren’t prepared for what was next. 

“I’m going to a dinner party next Friday, you want to come with me?”

You’re caught off guard by the question and after a couple minutes of silence you shimmy your way out of Brock’s grasp. “Brock, we’re not together anymore. I’m not going to a dinner party with you.”

Brock’s eyes are drilling into you in a way that makes you uncomfortable. You couldn’t figure out the look he was giving you. In the two years of dating you hadn’t seen the look he was giving you. “Are you fucking serious?”

Your breath gets caught in your throat as you stare up at Brock, stepping away till your lower back smacks into the counter. “What do you mean?”

Brock chuckles, shaking his head. “Never mind,” Brock mutters, chuckling coldly. “But you know what?” Brock asks, stepping closer till he was nearly pressed against you.  “If you don’t want this to be anything anymore then stop fucking calling me every time you want someone to fuck you.”

Your breath is shaky as it leaves your lips. “Brock, I…this isn’t….I promise this isn’t just about…that.”

“Really?” Brock snaps. “Because the only time you’ve talked to me since we’ve broken up is to invite me over to have sex.”

“We broke up,” you say, repeating his words back to him. “What are you expecting when I text you? To go on a date? Stop fucking answering me if you don’t want to just come over and hook up.”

Brock is silent for a second and it makes your heart begin to race. “Fine,” he says, stepping away from you. “I’ll stop answering your fucking texts,” Brock snaps, walking towards the door of your apartment. 

You don’t say anything as he walks to the front door, but that didn’t mean you weren’t screaming on the inside. On the verge of breaking, of screaming out for him to stop, to not leave you. Because yes, you had broken up. And you were usually the person who would say that once a relationship ends it should be left in the past. But you didn’t know how much it would hurt when he actually moved out of the apartment you shared. You didn’t know that every single day you would miss waking up beside him. You didn’t know that everyday you came home from work to an empty apartment would leave your heart aching. 

So you started texting him. Just to hook up. You had convinced yourself that was all it was. You weren’t a casual hook up type of person, so it only made sense to go back to someone who knew exactly what you liked. Or, that’s what you told yourself. 

It had been a week since that morning and it felt like you had gone through a second breakup. But this time you couldn’t ease the pain by inviting Brock over. If you did that you would have to admit the truth, that you missed him in a much bigger way than just sexually. 

“You’re going to have fun, just relax,” Amy says as you walk into the bar she had convinced you to come to with your group of friends. It was a Friday night and she had practically begged you to get out your house and stop moping around every night.

“Fine, fine,” you laugh, letting her pull you straight to the bar to get some drinks. 

You were just polishing off your third double gin and tonic when you see him. He was across the bar and had noticed you as well, his eyes already on you. “Brock is here,” you tell Amy, looking over at her. 

“We can leave,” she tells you quickly. 

“No, no, it’s fine,” you tell her, stepping back away from the bar. “I’ll be right back.”

“Y/N,” Amy groans. “Don’t. You’re just going to get hurt again.”

“I’ll be fine,” you assure her. 

Weaving your way through the bar you step into the empty spot at the bar beside Brock. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Brock says, turning his body to look at you. “How’ve you been?”

“It’s only been a week,” you point out, shrugging. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” Brock swirls the dark liquid around his glass before taking a drink. 

Shaking your head you catch the attention of the bartender, ordering another gin and tonic. “How’ve you been?” You ask Brock after getting your drink. 

“Terrible,” Brock chuckles under his breath. “So, are you going to be honest with me now?”

Sighing you take a sip of your drink. “Yeah,” you whisper, staring down at your drink. “Haven’t been great.”

“Sorry,” Brock says quietly before chuckling. “I guess that’s weird for me to say.”

Shrugging you turn your head to look at him. “I miss you,” you admit. 

“Me too,” Brock says, moving his arm across the bar, sliding his hand under yours and curling his fingers between yours. 

Swallowing heavily you watch your interlocked hands for a few minutes before looking back into his eyes. You don’t know how long you were standing there, trying to work up the courage to say or do anything. But once you do, even you’re caught off guard by your actions. You lean over, pressing your lips to his in a gentle, quick kiss. “I should probably go,” you whisper as you pull away from him, cheeks burning as you slide off the barstool and step away. 

“No,” Brock’s voice breaks as he says it and he reaches over to grab your hand. “I mean, I guess, if that’s what you want…but-,” Brock shakes his head. “Fuck, never mind.”

Nodding slowly you take another step back before turning around and heading back across the bar. You stop by where Amy was sitting, letting her know you were going to get some air and insisting you would be fine when she offered to go with you. 

Outside the air is cool but not unbearably cold, which you were grateful for as you pace the same ten feet in front of the bar over and over again. The door opens and you stop pacing, trying to look normal as you stare off down the street, as if that was somehow more normal than walking.

“You okay?”

You recognize the voice immediately and you spin around, looking over at Brock. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you lie. 

Brock nods, glancing back to the door. “I can leave you alone, if you want.”

“No,” you say, too quickly. “I, uh, I mean, you can, or don’t, either way it doesn’t matter to me.”

“How did it end up like this?” Brock breathes out and you turn around to look at him, waiting for him to go on. “We were so happy for so long, I had an engagement ring, I was ready to be with you forever,” Brock continues, looking around for a minute before turning his attention back to you. “And the next thing I know you’re telling me that we rushed into things, that we should take some time to figure ourselves out before making such a big commitment. But, fuck, I don’t need the time to figure myself out, I know who I am and what I want and all I wanted was to be with you.”

You didn’t realize your eyes had filled so full of tears till one slips down your cheeks. “I don’t know, Brock. I was scared, I’ve never been in a relationship like that, not one that I thought might last forever, but…but relationships almost never last and I was scared that we’d end up just like that, broken and sad and it seemed like if we stayed together longer then it would just be even harder.” You were truly crying by the time you stopped talking, tears and mascara running down your cheeks and you’re gasping for air because suddenly it felt like you couldn’t get a breath past your chest.

Brock grabs your arms, pulling you into a hug, protective and comforting. “It’s okay, just take a deep breath,” Brock whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I’m right here, you’re going to be okay.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter, pulling back as soon as you could take a full breath. “Fuck, sorry, I ruined your night.”

Brock chuckles and grabs your hand, pulling you closer again. “You didn’t ruin anything, you never could. It wasn’t exactly a fun night anyway, if anything you’ve made it better.”

“I’ve been a wreck, Brock,” you whisper, trying to wipe the tears from under your eyes without making what you could presume to be a mess of mascara even worse. “I don’t know what to do…I don’t know how to move on…you know?”

“Yeah, I definitely know,” Brock replies with a sigh. “Do you want to get back in there to your friends?” Brock nods towards the bar, the loud music emanating from the inside as someone steps out into the quiet street. Truthfully, going back in there was the last thing you wanted to do. You were already drunk and crying, that almost always signalled the end of the night for you. 

“Not particularly,” you whisper, arms wrapped around yourself, the cool air starting to seep into your bones. 

Brock pulls his jacket off, slipping it over your shoulders. “How about you go tell your friends you’re leaving and I’ll take you home?” Brock offers. “Or, I’ll get an Uber, I guess, but I’ll get you home.”

You give Brock a nod, slipping your arms into his jacket. “Thank you.” Heading into the bar you scan the room, spotting Amy and Stella standing by the bar. “Hey,” you say as you approach, grabbing their attention. “I, uh, I’m going to go home.”

“No,” Stella whines, spinning around to look at you. “It’s not even midnight.”

Amy lets out a loud sigh, shaking her head. “She’s going home with Brock.”

Stella whips her head over to look at you with wide eyes. “Wait, what? Is he the one that’s been making you cry?”

So your mascara was as much of a mess as you had thought. “I mean, I guess, but not because he did anything wrong…I’m still in love with him, it’s just, it’s really hard.”

“No kidding you’re still in love with him,” Amy groans. “It’s been like a week since you saw him last, if you want to move on you need to stop seeing him all the time.”

“I don’t know if I want to move on, Amy.”

Stella and Amy exchange a quick glance, Amy shaking her head slightly as she returns to her drink that was sitting on the bar in front of her. Stella reaches over, placing her hand on your arm. “What do you mean?”

“I want to be with him, Stella.”

“You’re drunk,” Stella reminds you, pulling you into a hug. “I don’t think you should make this decision now.”

Shrugging you pull away from her. “Then I won’t make the decision tonight. I’ll wait till tomorrow. But I really don’t think it’s going to make the decision any different. We were happy, Stel. I got scared, there was nothing wrong with the relationship. I just fucked up and maybe…maybe he’s willing to give me another chance after I tried to push him away and maybe that means something and I can’t just ignore how badly I regret ending things in the first place, and-“

Amy cuts you off by throwing her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. “Okay, we believe you, we just want what’s best for you. If you want to go with him, try to figure this out, that’s okay.”

Pulling back you sniffle quietly, wiping away another round of tears from your eyes. “Thank you. I, um, I’ll text you guys later.” Once you turn away from them you walk as fast as you could manage through the bar, only slowing down only once you were outside with Brock. 

“Uber will be here in a minute,” Brock tells you, putting his arm around you, tugging you into his arms. And he was right, the Uber pulling up in front of you just a moment later. The ride is short, and as you’re getting out of the car you notice Brock not making a move towards his own door. 

“Oh,” you whisper, looking over at him. “I guess you’re, um, going home?”

“Yeah, I was going to, I didn’t want to, um, assume you wanted me to stay.”

“Well, will you stay with me tonight?” 

Brock nods, climbing out of the car and following you up into your apartment. After taking off your shoes, you slide Brock’s jacket off your arms, hanging it up by the door. 

“Do you want anything to um, drink or eat?” You ask, turning back around to look up at Brock. 

“I’m okay right now.” Brock glances around the room, as if trying to find any changes you may have made since the last time he was there. His eyes lock on something and you follow it to the gallery wall of pictures, many of which were of you and him. 

“Maybe I should have taken those down, I don’t know, I just…I couldn’t get myself to do it.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Brock moves closer, placing his hands on your waist. His eyes shift up and down from his lips to your eyes and you shuffle even closer to him,.

Brock leans in and you can feel his breath on your lips, your body tingling and you’re nearly begging for him to touch you you. You make the first move, pressing your lips to his, the kiss immediately moving from gentle to eager and frantic. Brock slides his hands from your waist to the backs of your thighs, swiftly lifting you onto the counter. You’re gasping for breath by the time he moves his lips down to your jaw and neck. “Fuck, please, can we go to the bedroom?”

“Of course.”

The next morning you wake up with Brock’s warm arm slung over your waist, your body tangled amongst the sheets. Slowly you roll over, watching as Brock stirs awake. “Good morning,” you whisper. 

“Morning, beautiful,” he mumbles with a sleepy smile. His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you over his body, your head resting on his shoulder. “How’d you sleep?”

“Really good.” You draw imaginary shapes on Brock’s chest with your fingers, watching his body rise and fall with his every breath. “I don’t want us to be over,” you blurt out, knowing you only had the courage to say it because you weren’t making direct eye contact with him. 

“Then it doesn’t have to be.” Brock runs his fingers through your hair. “I never wanted it to be over and I still don’t.”

You’re quiet for a second before sitting up, turning to face Brock, needing now to look into his eyes. “But how can you forgive me for trying to push you away?”

“I’d rather forgive you than lose you.”

[kawaikylian]

BELIEVE ME PART 2

Angst 🖤

I don’t know how it started, he believed something terrible and didn’t believe me. We hadn’t talked for days, I called him billions of times and texted him, I had guessed we were done.

He had unfollowed me, erased all my photos, blocked my number and told everyone we weren’t a thing anymore. It was hurtful, I had even talked to Richarlison about what happened, he admitted Neymar confronted him ending in the distruction of there friendship.

It was South Korea vs Brazil, I had came to support richarlison and paquetá two dear close friends of mine, of course I knew Neymar would be there, but it wasn’t going to stop me, a part of me was hoping he’d talk to me, but he didn’t, he only glanced at me multiple times, he would not talk to me, but I admit he looked like he was eager too.

I tried my best not to cry feeling shitty, I kept on wiping my under eyes to prevent crying but I couldn’t hold it in, as the game ended and everyone was walking out my eyes immediately begin to itch, I shut my eyes with force trying to stop the tears.

“Fuck!” I mutter, I realize people are looking at me as some of my makeup smears off and I’m covering my face, richarlison notices coming up to me asking if I’m fine, “voce Esta bem?” He asks with a sweet voice earning a small smile from me. (“Are you okay?”)

“extrano a ney” I say with a soft sweet voice, richarlison hugs me to call me down, I hear a voice call from behind, it’s Neymar, he seems obviously pissed, richarlison walks up to him “o que você quer?!” I don’t hear much except, Neymar’s voice goes a bit high.(“I miss ney”

I walk up to the both of them to ask what’s happening but my face goes into shock when I hear the word “girlfriend”.

“o que você está fazendo com minhas Mulher?”, I become utterly angry “I am not your fucking girlfriend” Neymar becomes surprised “so what your fucking him now?”.(“What are you doing with my women?”)

“No? I am not having sex with him, we are just friends, but regardless it should not matter to you because remember we are nothing right?!”i scoff thinking about the entire situation, “querida nós precisamos conversar” he says in a soft needy tone.(“Dear we need to talk”)

I shew richarlison away and ask Neymar to talk somewhere more privately.

“Não sei por que fiz o que fiz, mas sinto muito.” he begins to somber, he weighs him body down lowering onto his knees grabbing my hands and begging for forgiveness.(“I don’t know why I did what I did but I am so sorry”)

“Desculpa me Por favor linda sinto falta do seu toque, Eu acordo sozinho todos os dias. Eu sinto muito arrependimento, sinto muito.” Im still mad at Neymar but not entirely, I immediately hug him forgetting about everything, I hug him tightly, because I miss his touch.

(““I'm sorry please beautiful I miss your touch, I wake up alone everyday. I feel a lot of regret, I'm sorry.”)

We hug for a good minute, I look into his eyes pulling him into a big kiss, more tears fall onto my face “I forgive you baby”.

I was still mad at Neymar but all I needed at that time was his arms and his touch.

Not the last part

Part 1

[hannigramislife]

#4 Scene of my Random Mdzs Fanfiction

Prompt: What if 3zun reincarnated in modern au?

Scene: Lan Xichen remembers the past, and tears both Nmj and Jgy a new one.

Walking towards Nie Mingjue’s office, Jin Guangyao had a sinking feeling of dread settled in his gut, and it was growing by the second. He hadn’t heard from Lan Xichen in over a week, all his texts and calls having gone unanswered, which was unusual, as Lan Xichen took only a couple of minutes to reply. Jin Guangyao thought he had been grateful for the opportunity to have Lan Xichen back in his life, but now that he didn’t wake up to good morning texts, and didn’t receive random pictures during the day with Lan Xichen’s humorous captions, Jin Guangyao realized he hadn’t appreciated them enough. Only a week, and he felt Lan Xichen’s absence like a limb. If something had happened to him, Jin Guangyao would never forgive himself.

Going to Nie Mingjue for help had been something of a last resort; Jin Guangyao didn’t trust the man, wouldn’t turn his back on him if the gang leader had both his arms broken and tied behind his back. He was much more volatile than Jin Guangyao remembered him to be, and he could no longer be trusted not to go too fucking far. Lan Xichen was a bleeding heart with a strong sense of justice; how long until he got in Nie Mingjue’s way. How sure could Jin Guangyao be that this Nie Mingjue wouldn’t harm him?

If Nie Mingjue had something to do with his disappearance, Jin Guangyao would kill him, no questions asked. Even if it was the last thing he did in this life, he’d kill him.

If not, then he’d made the right choice in going to him, and if Jin Guangyao had to beg Nie Mingjue on his knees to help him find Lan Xichen, then so be it.

Lan Xichen was worth it. He had always been worth it.

Once he neared the man’s office, Jin Guangyao heard faint voices coming from the small room, its door ajar. Curious and immediately on edge, he made his steps as light as possible, pressing close to the wall.

“…alm down for fuck’s sake, so we can tal-“

“Calm down?!”

Jin Guangyao almost felt his heart stop at hearing Lan Xichen’s enraged voice echo through the room.

“You want me to calm down, da-ge? You want to talk to me now, don’t you? Well, what shall we talk about first? Wanna talk to me about what the Jins are doing? Want to talk to me about how I had to wait for hours to talk to you 3 days ago because you were busy bleeding out in a hospital bed? Or, my personal favorite; when were you going to tell me I was regularly having coffee with the man who killed you, hm?”

Jin Guangyao felt like a bucket of ice cold water was dumped on him. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as his mind processed the words Lan Xichen had screamed. Too many emotions whirled inside him for him to make sense of them all; shock, joy, sadness, fear, anger, regret— and stronger than them all, desperation.

Desperation to prove to Lan Xichen that he wasn’t the same person, that he wanted nothing more than to be a man that could stand by Lan Xichen’s side proudly. He wanted to beg for a second chance, an opportunity to be better. Other people could do it easily, why couldn’t Jin Guangyao?

It took a moment for Jin Guangyao to realize that Nie Mingjue had gone suspiciously quiet.

He only had time to blink, and lean back slightly, before the door was flung open, and Jin Guangyao found himself facing a very tall, very intimidating, very shirtless-while-wrapped-up-in-bandages Nie Mingjue.

“It seems this conversation is no longer private.” He said as he stared down at Jin Guangyao, crossing his arms in disapproval, shifting the suit jacket he had thrown over his shoulder.

No. Bad brain. Not the time.

Jin Guangyao swallowed painfully, keeping his eyes on Nie Mingjue, if only so he didn’t have to face Lan Xichen. “For a private conversation, you sure are loud. And the door is open.”

The gang leader snorted, before pulling Jin Guangyao in.

Jin Guangyao stumbled in as Nie Mingjue closed the door firmly; with his only exit closed, Jin Guangyao had little to do but face his friend, his former sworn brother. Hesitantly, he locked gazes with Lan Xichen, and was taken aback by the emotions he saw in them. The shock he had anticipated, once Lan Xichen remembered, the heartbroken pain, too, because Lan Xichen had always been so honest in his feelings, but the anger- the anger was new.

Lan Xichen was facing them both, eyes shifting from Jin Guangyao’s curled in figure, to Nie Mingjue standing tall behind him.

Lan Xichen was indeed angry. More than that, he was furious.

“Er-ge,” Jin Guangyao started, for once unable to find the right words to say.

Apparently, that wasn’t important, as Lan Xichen wasn’t planning to let him talk. “Was it fun?” The man cut him off, voice shaking from a kind of emotion he had never seen in him. “Tell me, was it fun? Leading me around by the nose again, pretending to be my friend?”

Jin Guangyao wished Lan Xichen had just punched him instead; it would have hurt less.

“No, no, Er-ge, it wasn’t like that—“

“Was it amusing for you, seeing me fall for the same act twice? What was your plan this time, A-Yao, were you waiting for my memories to return, or was a nice, dramatic reveal what you had planned?”

There was a time Jin Guangyao had seen, and caused, many lives to be destroyed, many suffering in people, even those who had been closest to him, and he’d done so without so much as batting an eyelash. And yet, Lan Xichen’s cruel words were enough to make him want to sob— and Jin Guangyao had heard his fair share of cruel words.

“I wouldn’t— I woudn’t do that to you, Er-ge. I would never hurt you like that.” Jin Guangyao said desperately, wanting Lan Xichen to believe that, if nothing else.

“You wouldn’t do what, Jin Guangyao. Wouldn’t do exactly what you did last time?” Lan Xichen was trembling with badly concealed rage, though he never raised his voice.

Jin Guangyao’s mouth clamped up, his words failing him. Lan Xichen wasn’t listening, he didn’t look like he planned to listen anytime soon, and there was nothing Jin Guangyao could say that wouldn’t come off as fake, manipulative.

In their few weeks of ignorant bliss they’d shared together, Jin Guangyao had forgotten what the events in Guanyin temple had reduced him to in the eyes of his Er-ge. Every word was now open to doubt and suspicion, every smile was fake and planned, every touch meant to draw out trust.

Lan Xichen had no naivety left to give Jin Guangyao, this time.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. Besides him, Nie Mingjue tensed, and Jin Guangyao didn’t know if that was a good sign or not. “I’m sorry, Er-ge.”

Lan Xichen blinked in disbelief, before letting out a slight scoff; another thing Jin Guangyao had never seen him do. He had the uncomfortable realization that, like Nie Mingjue, like himself, this Lan Xichen was also different.

“You’re sorry,” Lan Xichen repeated, voice hard as steel. “Isn’t that a bit too little, too late, A-Yao? A couple of centuries, maybe? What am I supposed to forgive you for? You didn’t hurt me, after all. No, that’s the one line you wouldn’t cross.”

Lan Xichen was, indeed, much different. His words cut deeper than his sword ever did. It had been foolish to hold onto a man that hadn’t existed in centuries.

Or maybe, his mind whispered, this is the same Lan Xichen, and that’s just what he would have always thought about you, had he known the truth.

Sometimes, A-Yao didn’t like his own mind.

"That's not what I'm talking about," Jin Guangyao said, struggling to keep his voice even. "I meant this life, our friendship. I didn't mean to hurt you by getting close to you. I assumed you would not remember."

Lan Xichen took a deep breath. "How is it," he said, "that the only way you can be close to me is when you keep me blind?"

[nyikondlovu]

You were the only reason I had to go on, you were my dream, all the things I never knew

(Cross posted on AO3 and Wattpad (ik ik))

“what the fuck Jake?” Devon can’t help but let out loudly. Forgive him, he’s slightly pissed.

“I know, Pam and Larry said no.” Jake says looking apologetic over the video call

Frustrated, Devon reponds: “I'm cooking for you! Would a text or heads up have killed you?”

‘Shit. He’s pissed.’ Jake Wheeler can see it in how tight his eyes are and how the phone seems to be slightly shaking meaning Devon’s hands are trembling badly.

“I know, I just got distracted and-“

“No, it’s happened every other weekend for SIX fucking months Jacob…that’s 12 weeks. 12 dates. 12 opportunities for us to be together that you’ve ditched.”

“Wait no it can’t be 12…” the curly haired boy trails off.

‘I can’t, I have so much homework.’

‘You can’t come, I don’t know what we’d even do.’

‘This weekend is no good babe.’

“You couldn’t even give an excuse for the last one, Jake!” It cannot be said that Devon Evans doesn’t have the patience of a saint but fuck even he can snap.

Is something wrong with him? He thinks as he looks at his boyfriend fumble for an excuse.

Does Jake not love him anymore?

Is Devon not worth fighting for?

…maybe not it seems.

Devon has been through a lot but one thing his mama taught him is never beg for love or to be in spaces you’re clearly not wanted.

He loves Jake but fuck he’s so tired of feeling unwanted.

“…Dev?” Jake calls out, he doesn’t know how to explain that he doesn’t feel good enough for him. That his life is crazy and he cancels or doesn’t show up because it’s better if Devon is as far away from Jake as possible.

He sees…something flicker through his boyfriend’s face before it’s back into a neutral expression.

He’s doing this for himself even though it hurts like a fucking cunt.

“You will not or cannot make time for us, you don’t communicate, you barely answer texts and calls so it’s clear where this is headed…” he starts

‘No. No. No. for the love of EVERYTHING, Devon, please don’t.’ Jake internally begs, he feels his throat start to tighten up.

“It’s best if we end this relationship. We can’t find time for one another and it’s hurting me Jake. You don’t love me anymore, fine. But don’t string me along like a fucking idiot. My heart can’t take that.” Devon carefully says, making sure to keep his voice steady but he can’t stop the tears welling up in his eyes.

“Dev -Dev please no. I can do better. I love you so much please don’t fucking do this-“ his begging is cut off.

“I’m done Jake. We’re done. For good this time,” and the screen goes black.

Leaving both teens staring at reflections of themselves with tears streaming down their faces and their hearts heavy.

“I love you more than i ever thought possible.” Jake whispers, and starts to frantically look at Uber prices from Salem to Hackensack

Devon starts turning off the stove and packing away ingredients he pulled out of the kitchen cabinets and fridge.

“I love you but I have to love me more…” the black boy says to himself.

maybe if he says it enough times he’ll even start to believe it.