#as you can probably tell...i like this view of the desk :3

[pefkaes]

22.03.2025 // day 394 // 그냥 평범한 날

just an usual day, but trying to be cosy. i've been obsessed with the combination of lemon juice, coriander and bird's eye chillies lately. so i've been dousing my food with the three. i'm also happy with the way the desk is coming together. night-time activity includes a steaming hot cup of tea, some minecraft and listening to the lotr audiobooks by phil dragash; absolutely love the drama. it is so comforting, like being wrapped in a soft blanket. all i need is a height adjustable footstool.

[theliteraryarchitect]

5 Reasons NOT to Use Multiple Point of View (and What to Do Instead)

I've been meaning to make this post for a long time. As a developmental editor, I see a LOT of manuscripts that use multiple point of view (where each scene or chapter is from the perspective of a different character), when they really should be using a classic single character POV. Over the years, I've come to the conclusion that writers see multiple POV as a solution to problems that really shouldn't be solved that way. Basically, they're using it for the wrong reasons. And when that happens, instead of making the story more awesome, multiple POV can actually weaken it.

Here are five of the most common reasons writers choose multiple POV (and why those reasons might be a problem). Don’t worry—I’ll also share what to do instead.

1. You Don’t Know What Your Story Is About

Sometimes, when writers aren’t 100% clear on their story’s main conflict, theme, or plot, they reach for multiple POV. It feels like a fix—after all, why focus on one perspective when you can try out a little of this and a little of that?

Here’s the thing: multiple POV actually requires you to be more clear about your story, not less. Readers will naturally look for a thread that ties all the perspectives together, and if that thread isn’t there, the story will feel scattered or aimless.

What to Do Instead: Take a step back. If you’re feeling unsure about what your story is really about, try some journaling or outlining. Ask yourself:

What’s the main conflict?

Who’s the central character?

Why am I telling this story?

Often, writers discover they actually have one protagonist, and a limited third or first-person perspective would work better. If you still feel like multiple POV is the right call, go for it! Just be sure to periodically revisit your outline to make sure the story hasn’t “gotten away” from you. (Multiple POV has a sneaky way of doing that.)

2. You Haven’t Developed Your Characters

Multiple POV doesn’t work unless each character is fully developed. Every POV character needs their own voice, journey, and reason for being in the story. If they can’t stand on their own, readers will notice.

What to Do Instead: Before assigning a POV, ask yourself:

Is this character compelling enough to hold the reader’s attention?

Do they add something essential to the story that no one else can?

If the answer is no, it might be better to stick with a single POV. Sometimes less is more.

3. You Can’t Decide on a POV Character

This one is common, especially in early drafts. You’re still figuring out your story, and it’s hard to choose whose perspective should take center stage.

What to Do Instead: Experiment! Write key scenes from different characters’ perspectives. Often, the strongest voice will make itself known as you go. And remember: just because you write a draft with multiple POV doesn’t mean you can’t narrow it down later.

4. You Need to Share Information Your POV Character Doesn’t Have

Ah, the classic "But how do I show this thing the protagonist doesn’t know?" dilemma. This is probably the most common reason I see writers reach for multiple POV. It’s tempting to throw in a chapter or two from another character’s perspective just to share that extra bit of information.

The problem? Those chapters often feel disconnected from the rest of the story. Every POV character needs to carry their weight, and dropping in a random narrator just for convenience can leave readers feeling unsatisfied.

What to Do Instead: There are other ways to get information across. Here are a few ideas:

Educated Guesses: Let your main character speculate. (“Iris kept tapping her pencil on the desk. Was she nervous about the meeting earlier?”)

Show, Don’t Tell: Use actions, dialogue, or other clues to reveal what another character might be thinking.

Bring in a New Element: Introduce a third character, a conflict, or even an object that reveals something important.

Overhearing or Spying: Yes, it’s a little cliché, but when used sparingly, it can work in a pinch.

5. You’re Looking for an Easy Way Out

Let’s be honest: multiple POV can feel like a catch-all solution to tough storytelling problems. Need to fix pacing? Add another POV! Can’t figure out how to make the ending work? Add another POV!

But here’s the truth: multiple POV is actually harder than other POVs. You’re not just developing one character—you’re developing several, and you have to tie all their perspectives into a cohesive whole.

What to Do Instead: Focus on nailing the story with a single POV first. Once you’re confident the core of the story is solid, you can decide if adding other perspectives will truly enhance it.

In Summary

Multiple POV is a powerful tool, but it’s not a shortcut. It requires careful planning and strong execution. If you’re considering it, ask yourself:

Does every POV character bring something unique to the story?

Am I clear on the main conflict and theme?

Could this story be told just as well (or better) with a single POV?

Sometimes, the simplest route is the best one.

Hope this helps!

/ / / / / / / / / / /

@theliteraryarchitect is a writing advice blog run by me, Bucket Siler, a writer and developmental editor. For more writing help, download my Free Resource Library for Fiction Writers, join my email list, or check out my book The Complete Guide to Self-Editing for Fiction Writers.

[cheonstapes]

miguel o'hara stars in... 'NERD!MIGUEL STARTS AN ONLYFANS' (ง ื▿ ื)ว

a/n~ this popped in my head so quick and i thought i was gonna combust if i didn’t start writng then and there٩( ᐛ )و once again all creds to @nymphomatique 💗

part 2

summary; your nerdy almost-boyfriend starts an onlyfans without you knowing.

wc; 1.6k

pairings; nerd!miguel o'hara x rich!fem!reader

cw; SMUT!!, onlyfans, miguel being embarrassed, m!masturbation, panty kink, humiliation kink, sub!miguel pretending to be a dom, miguel being obsessed with reader (//∇//), dom!reader, reader being possessive (as you should), the woman was too stunned to speak, paint me like one of your french girls, nawt proofread - i was half asleep

ok,, nerd! miguel with a secret onlyfans that he hides from you.

because he’s lowkey embarrassed 

because he wants you to find it and punish him for sharing what’s yours with others

on top of that, he’s one of the top accounts on the site. i mean it’s not a surprise- he’s still hot as fuck. extremely tall, chiseled body, thick thighs, sexy face, big dick- he’s quite literally perfect, and he knows you know that. 

he only started it because of you, anyway. the compliments you whisper in his ears, telling him how beautiful he is, how much you love his body, he never realised how fine he actually is. so one day whilst he was sitting in your dorm, finishing up on of your reports, he decided he would put his body to good use. you were out for the night, and you probably wouldn’t come back until the next morning so he had all the time in the world. 

he scrolled through a few pics you took of him on your phone, but something was bugging him. he looked so…submissive in them. yeah, of course he enjoyed being submissive - but only for you. the idea of other people seeing him in a way that’s reserved for you and you only giving him a strange feeling in his chest. miguel was a virgin before he met you though, so being submissive was really all he knew. being dominant felt wrong, but he was willing to give it a try.

feeling a surge of confidence, he stood up from your desk, stripping himself of his shirt, leaving him clad in his loose sweats. he sat on your queen sized bed, scooting himself up to the headboard. he really was a tall motherfucker though, long legs dangling off the edges of your fluffy mattress. he props one leg up, resting his elbow against it as he angles the camera down towards his chest, bulging muscles highlighted by your warm fairy lights.

he takes pic after pic, different angles and positions around your room even using some of your toys as props. but in all of those pictures, he never showed his face - that’s for you, and nothing can change that. instead, he offered his followers a view of his plump lips, pulled into a lazy grin in every photo. 

a few months pass and he’s been racking up followers like crazy, all the money he makes - he spends on you, of course, buying you bags, clothes, shoes, anything his pretty mommy desires. you don’t question where he was getting all that money from, miguel also came from a pretty wealthy family - he did still spend as much of his parents money on you as he could.

eventually, he was in the top 3 creators of the site. he started to get a bit more raunchy with his posts, after that, he blew up like crazy. the constant *pings*! from his phone, however, was a means for suspicion. since when was your little loser of a boyfriend, well he’s not your boyfriend yet, but since when was he popular? like, people only know who he is because of you, and still nothing really changed since you claimed him as yours - so what’s with this sudden boost in attention he’s receiving?

he sits across from you, at your desk again, as you glare holes into his back from your plush bed. he’s smiling at his phone, the screen hidden from your view and you can only assume the worst. he’s talking to other bitches. everyone knew you were possessive, but when it comes to miguel? that’s a whole ‘nother situation. you wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of anyone who even thought about fucking around with your miguel. having connections is a real blessing.

your tongue clicks in annoyance, voice cutting through the comfortable silence in the room as you call out to him. “miguel, give me your phone.” you hold a hand out towards him, unmoving as your face remains devoid of emotion - although your twitching eyebrow tells a lot. he looks up at you immediately, pushing his frames back up his face. “w-what d’you need my phone f-for?” it was a valid question in any other circumstance, but this wasn’t any other circumstance. this was your obedient, not so little, miguel questioning you.

your brows raise, an amused scoff leaving your glossy lisp. you raise from the bed, strutting over to him as you snatch his phone from his hand. “the fuck is up with this attitude, hm? i don’t remember teachin’ you to be a little brat.” you sneer down at him, he was pathetic, really. face flushing as he realised his mistake, stumbling over his words and whimpering soft pleas of forgiveness. “shut it.” you don’t spare him another glance, gripping his phone as you sit back on your bed, crossing your legs.

unlocking his phone was easy, his password is your birthday - you could smile at how cutely obsessed with you he is but you were too pissed off at the moment. and of course, his lock screen and wallpaper is a picture of you, the same with his instagram pfp as you scroll through his chats. everything was weirdly innocent. there were only brief dm’s between him and what seemed like old friends and some current friends you didn’t even know he had, even his snapchat was completely barren.

you double, even triple checked his socials - not even a finsta in sight. with a deep sigh, you give up. of course you weren’t going to say out loud that you were overthinking but- oh? that stupid notification sound again. you quickly looked down at his phone again, seeing a notification from twitter. you completely forgot about it - seeing as it’s not even fucking called twitter anymore. 

clicking on it, your eyes widen in surprise. this whole account was a complete 360 from the miguel that grovels at your feet on a daily basis. the most teasingly sexy posts litter his feed - promising all that and more if you just clicked on the link in his bio, and that you did. miguel was watching you nervously the whole time, thinking the worst at your silent reactions. he moves to stand, hoping that just maybe he can get his phone back. “sit the fuck down.” and he sits.

what a fucking slut. your good little boy, in all these different positions, fooling his fans into thinking he’s some strong, sexy, dom. getting off in your bed, calling his fans all the nasty names you call him. the whole situation was just so funny to you. these poor people, they didn’t know how much their favourite daddy dom was in fact a little bitch, for you and you only. 

there was a part of you that was happy seeing have so much confidence, as much as you want to keep him all to yourself. it was kinda hot, him trying to act all dominant. you’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t make your cunt throb, biting your lips as you scroll deeper, and deeper. one post in particular caught your eyes, though. it was a video, the lighting was darker than the others but his body was just as clear. you put the volume all the way up, snickering at miguel’s frightened gasp behind you.

you can see why this post had so many likes now, cause god was it sexy. miguel laid on your bed, his face not visible, chest on display as he lightly ran his strong hands up and down his body, mumbling deep praises to his fans about how ‘good’ they are for him, how well he could fuck his pretty little sluts, how they probably wish they were there with him. who wouldn’t? his fat cock was drizzled in lube, sticky, hard, and leaking all over his hand. it rested on his stomach, smearing pre all over his happy trail, as he traced a thick finger along the throbbing veins. 

his moans where still just like you knew them to be, whiny and breathy, small whimpers leaking through his spit soaked lips. his hand worked himself faster, pumping up and down just like you do, skimming over his tip in the same way you do. after all, you’re the only one who knows how to use him. it feels like he edges himself forever. constantly stopping and starting, gripping onto his cock tightly to stop himself from exploding all over himself.

he pants heavily, growling softly as he pulls something up out of frame, a small black lacy thong. your black lacy thong, the same one you had on right now. he wrapped it around his aching cock, rubbing his tip along the crotch before rapidly fucking himself into the fabric. he doesn’t last long though, the thong smelt like you, he had only taken it a few minutes before he started filming - digging through your dirty laundry like some depraved perv to find the perfect pair.

only after a couple quick pumps did he spill all over the pretty fabric, his mouth hung open, chest shimmering with sweat. he brought the soiled panties to his mouth, sensually licking off his own cum before shooting a teasing smile at the camera - the video ending. you couldn’t even speak, slowly turning around to face him, his head hanging down in shame. 

oh, you were gonna make sure he learnt his lesson. his fans too.

to be continued…

- i want his balls jn my mouf

[helslastangel]

I'm back bxtches

Random Observations #9

Y'all still need the disclaimer or will reason prevail?

🦂 Scorpio Mars are POWERHOUSES in my not-so-humble opinion. If you are prone to procrastination, especially in your career or as an entrepreneur, Aries Mars might hype you up but a Scorpio Mars (esp in 10H) is gonna make damn sure you finish your to-do list.

I had a friend with this placement and she literally bribed me with weed to come to her house, then she took my phone and house keys and made me sit and finish designing my business cards and send them to Vistaprint before she'd give my damn keys back. Made over $5K USD from my next few clients though so I wasn't even mad about it lol

🦀 I don't care what the astrology girls like to say - my observations of Cancer moons is that they are FORGIVING AF. Like it takes a lot for a Cancer moon to be really done with you and chances are you're more wrong than they are.

Cancer moons come off as manipulative to a lot of people. But when you actually dig below the surface, you'll notice this common thread where people who aren't good at seeing other people's points of view unless they need something immediately project that attitude onto people who genuinely give a shit.

Obviously there are evil Cancer moons and they're extra terrifying for the above reason, but they're the minority and the slander is unnecessary imo. The people who have literally put up with my WORST behavior the longest and genuinely dropped it after a good open conversation were all Cancer moons.

👬 Which leads me to another interesting astro trope I'd like to kick over right about now. Gemini moons. Love them but in my experience they are usually what people think Cancer moons are. Gemini moons, from my observation, don't soak up as much, if any, of other peoples' energies. They're gonna keep it moving emotionally regardless of how you wanna be in the moment. That means they can easily smile with you for years if that's the path of least resistance, but that does NOT mean they particularly like, care about or think highly of you at all. They MIGHT, but you will NOT know unless they want you to know or you somehow trigger them enough to rip the black tape off the redacted parts of their mental file on you.

If you're someone who is used to everything being totally transparent and straightforward, you're in for a wild ride with a Gemini moon in your life. I've had quite a few as friends or coworkers, etc., and I promise without fail there always came the day where I ended up wiping tears of laughter from my eyes, feet up on my desk, twiddling my thumbs listening to the 11-minute voice note from the latest Gemini moon in my life. Pretty much telling me in no uncertain terms exactly what they thought of me, where I should go, why, and how happy they would be to direct me there personally.

As a Capricorn moon, I never have the kind of reaction they'd like to this but it's always interesting to see the abrupt change as they can literally seem perfectly cool 3 minutes before the other twin takes over. I don't even think it's a good or bad thing, just how it goes.

Cancer moons seem this way but chances are you chose to ignore the VERY OBVIOUS SIGNS THAT SOMETHING (probably everything) was wrong, lol. Cancer moons can't hide their feelings for shit (reason #101 why I love them; it's easier for me to fix a problem if i can quickly see there is one 😂).

🦁 Let's change tracks and talk about Leo mercuries for a minute. Y'all get your inside and outside voices mixed up a LOT, lol. Every Leo mercury I know had trouble speaking quietly in quiet-appropriate situations but then catch them outside trying to get their friends attention at the other side of the street and suddenly it's like Tom got their tongue and tossed it to Jerry. Can barely get a sound out. Why is that? I know it wouldn't be all Leo mercuries but for those who experience this, please tell me what it is, I'm genuinely curious lol. As a Libra mercury I kinda have a similar problem. On another note, I've noticed that Leo mercuries can be highly persuasive people even if solely because of the amount of power and confidence they put behind the things they say.

My ex-husband has Leo Mercury at 24° (Pisces degree) and I promise you that man could make you believe anything against your will 😂 One time he was trying to get out of having to go to a friend's event and rather than just decline like a normal person, he crafted this masterpiece of an excuse that somehow involved me needing his attention (I had been on the couch under his arm half the day so no lol) but the way he spoke on the phone?

I swear to God even I caught myself nodding along all like "yeah, yes I did feel a bit neglected today and wanted more time with babe"... 😂😂😂 like NO TF I DID NOT FEEL NEGLECTED AT ALL but I got second-hand convinced lol. And yes he was loud when I or his friends were 12 inches away but couldn't raise his voice for shit to order through the drive-thru at McDonald's lol it was cute, though, I'd do the yelling into the intercom thing 😂

🐟 Lemme say this about Pisces suns - you are very underrated, from my observations. I've noticed Pisces suns in particular struggle with one of two major issues when it comes to others' perceptions of them - either people seem compelled to minimize/infantilize their contributions and achievements, or people fail to notice they exist altogether (or forget about them easily). I've always held my Pisces sun friends close for as long as I could and hyped them up because nearly every Pisces sun I've met has been incredibly talented and usually creative in some way. I'm talking genius levels of ability in some area that goes completely overlooked or undervalued by the majority of people in their circles.

These are the people who you vaguely notice as the cool server, hot bartender, friendly delivery guy, helpful sales associate, only for you to run into them somewhere else and you find out they run a whole personal training business or play 6 instruments perfectly and give lessons to kids, or taught themselves professional photography and have a camera in their bedroom worth more than your savings account. I've met so many Pisces suns who seemed to be one way and then there were so many layers to them that it was like reading an interactive novel.

That's what was on my mind for now, drop your favorite placement from your own chart in the comments, I'll compile them for random observations #10 😘

[oikasugayama]

YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG pt. 3

MDNI, this is a NSFW series for adults

pt. 1 Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3 Ranpo, Akutagawa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 (finale) Atsushi, Nikolai

Ranpo

you get a weird voicemail from Ranpo in which he was whimpering and saying "please, please, [y/n]," and then there was some fumbling with the phone and it cut off.

you're worried, of course you are, thinking maybe someone had taken him or hurt him and he needed your help, so you rush to his dorm and pound on the door, calling his name

you press your ear to the door and hear some muffled voices suddenly cut off, then hard footsteps approaching.

when ranpo throws the door open, his face is flushed, his hat and glasses are no where to be seen but his eyes are wide open, pupils dilated. you glance down and notice his clothes are disheveled, his shirt not tucked in, his fly undone, he's not wearing any shoes.

"WHAT" he snaps.

"i-- i thought you were-- you sent me a voicemail, it sounded like you were hurt or something??"

his face falls and simultaneously gets significantly redder, he steps back slightly and tries to think of what to say. that's when you spot his open laptop on the table beside a box of tissues and some lotion

"oh fuck," you say, looking from it to him. "holy shit, you were-- oh my god i'm so sorry!!"

he panics, trying to block your view "what? no-- no, i can explain, i was--"

"wait, was that voicemail in the middle of you masturbating?? dude, you said my name"

"seriously, it's-- no, i didn't, it was a misunderstanding!!"

"you know, you're a terrible liar, ranpo. brilliant mind, but a terrible liar."

Akutagawa

god he looks hot in this gif

Mori sends you to get Akutagawa for an impromptu meeting, which you have a sinking feeling is about your conduct with Akutagawa during the last mission. you nearly missed a target because you were, ahem... busy... in an alley together.

the first place you look for akutagawa, obviously, is in his own office, but he isn't there. in the hallway you run into Gin, so you ask if she knows where her brother is, and she says he was looking for you not long ago, so you decide to check your own office.

as soon as you crack the door open you hear the wet noise of his precum-damp hand pumping his cock. since you started hooking up, he's been finding you nearly every day to get his load off, it's no surprise that he's doing it here without you.

"akutagawa," you hiss, slinking into your office and locking the door behind you. "mori wants us to meet him now, probably about this exactly thing. i don't think we can keep doing this."

his hand stops and he glares at you, frowny mouth turning further to a scowl.

"mori may be the head of the organization, but he can't tell me who i can fuck. come here."

you take a second to decide, but when akutagawa stretches his free hand out to you, you rush to accept it. his expression brightens, no longer scowling but now smirking.

"good girl. mori can wait, can't he?"

"yes," you nod, sinking to your knees in front of him.

you meet with mori only after the taste of akutagawa's cum fills your mouth

Ango

You work into your lunch break, trying to finish a report that your boss needs asap. when you finally finish, you rush to ango's office to drop it off. you throw the door open without knocking, walk in several steps, and only then do you notice a few things:

he's not at lunch, he's still sitting at his desk.

his dick is out, in hand.

he's staring at you, in shock, with a slightly grumpy look on his face.

"sir!"

"close the fucking door," he demands, and you oblige quickly, trying to slip out as well, but he stops you. "ah, ah-- you stay. just close the door, and lock it while you're at it."

you do and slowly turn around to face him, and you can't help but to watch the way his fingers tease the head of his cock, brushing across the slit, feeling every contour of the tip.

"is that the finished report?"

"yes sir..."

"bring it to me."

you walk on shaky legs toward him, and his hand goes back to stroking himself as you get closer. you try to lay the report on his desk, but she shakes his head and reaches his free hand out. you give it to him, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

"why are you shaking?"

you try to stutter out a response, settling on "i don't know what to do."

"i find that hard to believe," he says slowly, turning toward the empty space beside his chair. "you always know what to do. that's why you're my best assistant."

the praise isn't anything new, he's always far nicer to you than anyone else he works with. you should have known the day he would hit on you or ask you out would come, but you never expected it to happen at work, and not like this.

"yes sir..." you say, slowly rounding his desk until you're standing in front of him. you drop to your knees and he sighs contentedly, leaning his head back against his chair and closing his eyes.

"good girl," he moans when your mouth touches him. "the best."

[maybefae]

How do others perceive you?

Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3

Remember, this is a general reading and it may not resonate for everyone or completely. Tarot is a tool to help guide but you are responsible for your actions and life, you choose your path.

Tips!

Pile 1

Tarot: Page of Cups, The World (Life on Earth), Queen of Cups, The Hermit (The Cosmic Tree), The Chariot (The Spirit Plane), Page of Wands, The Star (The Veil), Four of Wands, Death (Past Lives), Wheel of Fortune (Life Map)

There is an air of being from the energy of the Earth itself. Not necessarily in a grounded way but in a more light way. People definitely think you have a beautiful smile and you have a laugh that almost sounds like bells ringing. I don’t remember if there’s a scene like that in the Tinker Bell movie or if her voice/laugh sounds like bells, but that’s a message. 

They think you’re really connected to Earth, to the energies that be, and that’s something maybe you don’t even notice about yourself. Since I’ve pulled the cards, I had a feeling of “they don’t even believe it” even when they were telling me all these lovely things. This feeling is something I wish for you to feel, and you can! Especially since it’s your energy. 

There is a feeling of familiarity with you. You flitter in and out of people's lives for brief moments, and if you believe in past lives (since energy is continuously recycled), you probably have met a lot of the people you come in contact with in lives before this one. There’s a safety, like stopping by a fire on a long journey. Strangers may get reminded of loved ones when they meet you. 

They see you as a healer. And this may be something you notice about yourself actually. You may get tired easily because it seems like you have to help people all the time or people ask a lot of you. And I do wish you returned this energy to yourself, even if it’s for a small time in the day. Set boundaries. This could also be a reason why you filter in and out of connections with people. 

I also wanna add that this deck was really excited and wanted to be the first in line. People are probably really excited to see you and talk to you. You may have a really bubbly energy and like being a social butterfly. You may also be the subject of friendship crushes, like people really wanna become friends with you.

Pile 2

WARNING: This pile was more on the “negative” side. If negative readings aren’t for you, I would suggest not reading this one.

Tarot: Three of Wands, King of Wands, Queen of Swords, Two of Wands, Eight of Swords, Five of Swords, The Star, Seven of Cups, The Magician

Before I even pull cards, there is an air of seduction. It’s like I made eye contact with a feline in the wild or a snake just slithered in. A large portion of the deck was in my hands but the other half was stuck in the box and fell onto my desk very noisily. You probably don’t give a lot of tells right away and it takes a lot of time for you to show your other self. The air of mystery is what makes you seductive; people want to figure you out. And, from experience, this could drive you absolutely insane because once they figure you out, they leave.

I’m going to be honest, I think a lot of people perceive you as “bitchy.” It could honestly just be because your stubborn and you know what you want, you go for it, and achieve it. A lot of men see you as a threat just because of your strong personality. In some ways, you could be seen as selfish because you won’t bother looking from someone else’s view. If you are an ex-people pleaser, this could be an absolute compliment. You know your worth and you want to achieve your dreams, people being threatened by it are none of your business.

If you are actively being selfish and not bothering to have empathy, well…I would do some self reflection.

Something about this pile seems so angry? There’s an aggression about this reading. Some people could take you as someone that constantly feel like you have to defend yourself, in an angry way, or you’re someone that has a hard time taking accountability. 

I’m getting Kat from 10 Things I Hate About You, “Planet Look At Me, Look At Me.” Some people think you have to be the center of attention. They acknowledge that you definitely can get whatever you set your mind to, but they might not think you deserve it.

There is an air of being very misunderstood, my loves. For the people that don’t mean to come off this way, I feel like you have probably gone through a lot in the past. You’re defensive due to past hurt. You honestly may not even love yourselves and it comes off as anger to others. I couldn’t move on to Pile 3 because I kept over thinking. You may feel really bad with how you react…There’s heartache. I wanted to come back since I felt the need to hug you all. For readers (and you don’t even have to like this series or author), but you give me Nesta vibes (iykyk).  

Pile 3

Tarot: The World, Three of Swords, Five of Cups, Seven of Swords, Page of Swords, The Hermit, Knight of Pentacles, King of Cups, The Star, Ten of Cups

Ah, this is my melancholic pile. People see you guys as troubled, wounded from your past. You are well loved! But I think you have a hard time accepting it or you don’t see it. There is a feeling of always having to fight, sword raised, but you are very tired from battle. I’m getting the image of a knight falling to their knees after a battle is over, some with their heads looking up at the cloudy sky and others with their heads lowered. 

There had been a painful heartbreak where you went into hermit mode. You turned into yourself so you don’t get hurt again. It’s not that you aren’t friendly! But you certainly keep everyone at arms length. You’re constantly looking at the past, at the empty cups, at what you don’t have anymore…I don’t even think you’d even see new and beautiful things and people that will come into your life. You could, unfortunately, have had things pass by you without realizing. 

You are ones to focus on the material world. I don’t necessarily see back-breaking work, but enough to get by. You’re numb and can only exert as much energy as you can. You don’t have any battles with others, more of the battles come from yourself. You beat yourself up. But you don’t realize the potential you have.

There is an older man here. A wise man. This could be someone in your life or someone who has passed…he watched over you. He has so much love for you and it pains him to see the turmoil you cause yourself. He wishes to share the burden with you. He wants you to talk to him and seek his comfort. And honestly, he could offer you very good guidance/advice. 

Decks Used: Ophida Rosa Tarot by Leila and Olive, Ethereal Visions Illuminated Tarot Deck by Matt Hughes, White Numen Tarot: A Sacred Animal Tarot Deck by AlbaBG

Dividers: @inklore

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Paris, Texas pt. 2

aka: 2 Texans, 1 Lady 🎀 The joel x javi x f!reader threesome PART 2!!

WC: 8k | Other fics | Rating: 18+ | Read on Ao3 | PART ONE

Paris, Texas the video by my love

this one goes out to my fellow mlm fans and voyeurs, i hope it’s everything you wanted and more <3; dedicated to everyone that gets a tag bc i love you 5ever

Summary: Joel, still struggling with his conflicting feelings about the threesome with Javier, gets a surprise visit at work from the man himself that leaves him even more confused. After a week of seeing Javier in his dreams, he gets another surprise visit at work.

Note: it’s pretty heavy on the m/m action so if that’s not ur thing no worries you can still have a forehead kiss from me 

Tags/warnings: pwp, smut on smut on smut, internalized homophobia, dubcon joel/javi, infidelity, oral (m and f), consensual f/m sleepy oral, m/m anal, it’s not exactly a cuck chair–but there is a chair and u get to watch from it, top!joel, bottom!javi, but also switchy/vers in the future bc, respectfully, i would to experience the best of all worlds, i do not have a dick (i’m just a member of the fanclub) so if any of the m/m action is wildly inconceivable or something pls let me know i’m happy to receive feedback (spit as lube just pretend ok), some angsty guilt and shame in between the smut bc joel is still in denial, uhh dom!joel, idk if contractors have offices and i spent too long googling about it before remembering the point was the porn so pls forgive if that ruins ur immersion, tell me if i forgot something important

standard almostempty warnings at this point: unprotected sex with no consequences bc it’s fiction; f!reader is able-bodied otherwise no descriptions of skin tone, blushing, hair, idk tell me if there’s something that takes you out (physically); everyone is probably bi; no y/n, no beta just fueled by the power of adhd and delusion, if u see a mistake it was the gremlins i’m sorry 

PLEASE TELL ME IF U LIKE IT OR IF U HATE IT OR IF YOU WANT MORE

Joel is buried in paperwork. Permits and invoices are stacked up on his desk in organized chaos. The week has been a disaster. He blames his low-grade headache on the deadlines and number crunching, but he knows something else makes him uneasy. He rubs the pads of his fingers between his brows as if he could massage away the stress or erase the permanent worry line carved into his features. 

The noises outside his office blend into static as he recommits himself to getting caught up. 

He rolls up the sleeves of his worn plaid shirt, sighing to himself before he resumes. His pen scratches across a form he doesn’t care much about when the door to his offices creaks open. 

His head snaps up, looking across the room with a sharp glare. He’s not in the mood for interruptions, and he's already irritated at being stuck behind a desk playing catch-up. He isn’t expecting the man that enters the room. Stifling a surprised noise, he narrows his eyes to a sharp glare. He’s not in the mood for work-related afternoon interruptions, let alone a surprise visitor.

“So, this is the boss’s office?” Javier’s voice is smooth like he didn’t just appear out of nowhere and uninvited.  

“Yep,” Joel mutters, grip on his pen tightening in his fingers. Dropping his eyes back to his work, considering ignoring the man. Maybe he can will away the pest by avoiding eye contact and ignoring the intruder sizing up his space. 

Javier scans the sparse office. Empty walls, bare bones, and practical. 

Joel assumes he’ll have a snarky comment about the size of the room or the view. He keeps flipping through the paperwork in his hand, braced for Javier’s attitude. Joel is tense and prepared to snap back, but his shoulders are tight and stiff as if he’s been sleeping on concrete for a week. 

The signature scent of Javier, spicy and smoky, fills the air. The fragrance stirs Joel's memories and causes a visceral reaction. It makes his gut churn and fingers itch with restlessness. 

The last–and only–time he’s seen Javier plays out like a well-edited montage. New images flash every time he blinks. Dark eyes. Sweat glistening on Javier’s chest. Lips, tongues, and teeth, he tries to subtly shake the thoughts out of his head.

Javier drops into the chair in front of the desk, eyeing Joel with a casual bravado. He crosses one leg over the other, resting his ankle along his knee in his dark jeans and rusty red button-down. He links his hands behind his head as if he’s prepared to settle in and bask in Joel’s discomfort.

Javier’s eyes roam over Joel’s desk. “You don’t have a secretary for all that paperwork?” he muses. A smile pulls at the corner of Javier’s mouth that Joel could sense without looking at him. He can feel the heat of Javer’s gaze pouring over the desk between them, making the air feel heavy, thick with something unsaid. 

Joel can feel his pulse jump in his throat, chest constricted. “Nope.” He hoped his clipped tone would push Javier out of the room, but that hope flickers and dies when he takes in the nonchalant sight. Irritation spikes in Joel at the whole disturbance. He’s not interested in letting Javier take up residence in his office. Or his mind. 

“You need somethin’?” Joel’s throat feels dry as he spits out the blunt question. He flips through the next invoice without processing a single word on the page. He’s tired and has a low threshold after a week of poor sleep. Though, he’d never admit, except maybe to you, that he’s easily irritated even with a good night of rest. But you always slice right through his grumpy shell.

“Just in the neighborhood,” Javier drawls, “thought I’d stop by.” 

“Right.” Joel rolls his eyes, ”We supposed to be friends now?” Or what? Something more?

Javier shrugs casually, like that’s up to Joel to decide. 

Joel tosses his pen and paperwork onto his desk. He takes a breath, forcing his features into something neutral. The night you brought Javier into your home, and your bed has haunted him. Made it so he couldn’t think straight. Tortured him, not with regret, but with the messy, tangled knot of shame and desire. 

Now Javier is here. In the flesh. Self-satisfied and content, watching Joel and waiting expectantly. Waiting for what? 

“Is staring me down part of your ex-cop deal? You come here uninvited to interrogate me or something?” Joel accuses with annoyance in his eyes. 

“I don’t need to interrogate you,” Javier answers, mellow and cloying, “already know what you want.” He shifts, leaning forward, speaking quieter. “Just wanted to see if you’ve figured it out yet.” 

Joel works his jaw as he crosses his arms. A brick wall of resistance. The fuck is that supposed to mean? 

He clocks when Javier’s eyes lower, tracing the line of his arms, the same way you do when you catch Joel in a mood. You so easily diffuse his anger, disarming him with your wit or completely dismantling him with your body, unlike the instigator in front of him, who seems to only get under Joel’s skin. 

Joel lets out a deep sigh. Javier isn’t here to be friends. 

“It was what she wanted,” Joel says, his eyes hard, his voice firm. It felt like a weak excuse the second the words left his mouth. Shit. 

Javier can taste the blood in the water. His eyes glint at the thrill of the chase. “Is that all?”

The room feels like it’s shrinking. Heat crawls up the back of Joel’s neck, anger entwined with something else he refuses to name. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he replies, standing up from his chair, trying to tower over Javier in some pathetic attempt at dominance. 

A move he immediately regrets.

Javier also stands, circling around the side of the desk to look Joel up and down. Boldly. He admires Contractor Joel. The way he fills out his well-fitted work jeans, the way his deep green plaid hugs his broad shoulders and strains around his biceps as he crosses his arms again. 

The workwear suits him. A strikingly masculine figure. Powerful and seductive. Tempting Javier just by existing. “I get it,” Javier murmurs to himself, understanding what you’d mean when you first described Joel. The disgruntled expression, the furrowed brows and sharp eyes–he only makes it worse. 

“Always thought the whole construction thing was a cheesy porn gimmick,” Javier admits, “you could pull it off though. You got the toolbelt and the hat?” 

“You can leave,” Joel replies dryly. 

Ignoring Joel, Javier steps closer, “I’m just saying,” he rests a finger on Joel’s shoulder, drawing a line down towards his chest. Joel’s body is rigid, the contact searing his skin even through the soft material of his shirt. “You look good. This is your color,” he tugs at the dark green fabric below Joel’s throat. He drops his hand, and Joel feels like the earth could swallow him whole. 

Javier’s mock compliments make Joel’s stomach flip before he steels himself again. Javier flashes a diabolical smile, catching the flare of Joel’s eyes and the hard swallow of whatever retort he couldn’t muster. 

“You’re really trying to convince yourself, aren’t you?” Javier’s voice is dripping with mock sympathy. 

Violent, intrusive thoughts race through Joel’s mind—socking Javier in the jaw to wipe that smug look off his face, grabbing him by the collar and running him through the wall, slamming him onto the desk. Face down so he could lean over his body and tell him, hot breath on the back of his neck, that he’s about to learn to watch his mouth. 

Joel’s hands flex, knuckles popping, and heat stirs at the base of his spine at the dark desires. Suddenly, very aware of their close proximity. Close enough to feel the heat of Javier’s body, and to see the unwavering confidence in his face. 

Amused by Joel’s volatility, Javier scoffs gently. His warm breath fans between them, and a smirk spreads on his face. Out of context, it’s only a gentle tease. A flirty smile and charged moment. But to Joel, strained like the last barricade holding back a beast, it’s too much. He snaps, and the beast gnashes its teeth. 

“Get fucked,” Joel’s voice is a rumbly, low growl. 

Javier’s smirk blooms into a Cheshire Cat grin. “I’d ask if you were offering, but I don’t think you’ve got it in you.” 

Blood pounds in Joel’s ears. Drowning out the voice that wonders why Javier can rile him up so easily. The reminder that he’s got no reason to be jealous. That you’ve done nothing to make him worry. 

“You were only doing it for her, huh?” Javier’s voice was quieter but still laced with danger.

Joel’s jaw is clenched tight when he replies, “Yep.” It doesn’t carry the conviction he needed to convey. 

“Shame she isn’t here now, then,” Javier keeps pressing. The honesty in his tone throws Joel off. 

“Would do anything for her,” Joel adds, softening fractionally at the truth in it.  

“Anything?” Javier repeats. 

“S’right.” 

“For her.” 

“For her,” Joel nods in agreement. Letting out a breath, he didn’t realize he had been holding.  Javier rocks back on his heels like he’s about to turn and stroll away, satisfied by God knows what part of that interaction. 

But he pauses. 

Time feels weighted until Javier moves in closer. Another smile breaks across his face at how easily he can shock Joel into a trance with his audacity. Acting in defiance of all of Joel’s words. 

His hand snakes up Joel’s chest until his fingers are slipping between the curls at the base of his skull. He leans in close, lips ghosting over the shell of Joel’s ear, “Is this for her too?” He shifts back half a step, and with the hand on the back of Joel’s head, he urges him to look down. 

Javier’s hand had moved between them, palming the bulge in Joel’s jeans, his fingers pressing against his erection through the denim. Joel’s lips part, his whole body jerking forward instinctively, and a low groan rumbles in his chest before he can stop it.

Javier’s smirk deepened. “That’s what I thought.”

For a moment, Joel’s mind blanks out, lost in the haze of physical sensation. His body reacts before his brain catches up. 

“The fuck are you doing?” Joel snaps, grabbing Javier’s wrist and yanking it away. His voice is hoarse, breath ragged. 

“Anyone could walk in here.”

Javier didn’t pull away; he didn’t flinch. His head cocks in contemplation at Joel’s specific reasoning. 

Leaning in closer, Javier’s voice drips with amusement. “You’re afraid of them?” he nods towards the door. “Worried about what? That your crew is gonna find out their boss likes cock?” he laughs softly, a dark, teasing sound. 

Joel’s chest heaves, heart pounding. Anger, lust, and frustration all swirling together inside of him.

“You think they won’t take orders from you if they hear the noises you make for me?” 

He knows Javier is running his mouth to provoke him. But it works on him anyway. Joel huffs dismissively, without a thought, “You think I’d make a sound for you?” 

“I think you’ll beg me to stop before you do.”

Before he can dwell on the ramifications, Joel acts on impulse. Stepping back, his face hardening as he stares Javier down. That smug bastard. He’s consumed with a defiant urge to remove that smirk from Javier’s face. 

“On your knees,” he orders, his voice cold, flat, and restrained.  

Javier’s eyebrow raises, lips curling into a lazy smile. “Why, Joel?” he asks, voice playful. 

“You know why.” The presumption is underscored by the sound of Joel’s belt clinking before he unzips his jeans. He grips the base of his thick cock, menacing and erotic, as he keeps his hard gaze on Javier. 

He accepts the challenge, kneeling slowly, never breaking eye contact. 

“Yeah,” Javier murmurs, “you look even better like this. All frustrated and desperate to be touched.” His voice is thick and low, like molasses. Almost reverent, but at the same time gloating, as if Javier’s only proving himself right. It’s infuriating to Joel that the man can so freely express his desire and rile Joel up further with the same words. 

Javier’s hand covers Joel’s as he gives Joel’s cock an experimental stroke. Joel hisses through clenched teeth, slamming his eyes shut and tilting his head up to break the eye contact. To sever the intimacy. He’s taut, impatient, and ready to snap. 

Until Javier’s lips wrap around his weeping tip, and they both groan in unison at the sensation. The wet heat of his mouth sends a sharp throb of pleasure through Joel. The intensity causes his hand to shoot out to his desk, fingers digging into the edge in an attempt to ground himself. 

But it’s no use. 

Javier knows exactly what he’s doing, taking him deep, fast, his mouth warm and eager. His hands work in symphony with his mouth, twisting around his length, massaging at his thighs and hips, deliberate and competent. He has nothing to be shy or restrained about. 

Sinking into the pleasure, Joel starts to reason with himself. A mouth is a mouth, he can allow himself to have this, to let himself enjoy it.

And he does. 

Javier’s tongue teases underneath the sensitive head of Joel’s cock before he slides past his lips, along the flat of his tongue, and deep into his throat. It’s good. Why is it so fucking good? Joel’s head tips back down, blinking his eyes open. His body shudders. 

It’s not just a mouth. 

Seeing Javier’s head bobbing, his cock disappearing past the man’s lips, it stirs something wild and untamed within him. 

It’s a mistake to finally look. To really watch, taking it all in. The handsome features on Javier’s face, the unapologetic pleasure he takes from every reaction he pulls from Joel’s body. The strength and finesse of his hands are so different from you. He’s drawn to follow the movement of  Javier’s hand dropping to readjust himself, to ease the pressure on his own aching cock. 

The brief friction looses a moan from Javier, vibrating around Joel’s length. It’s undeniably fucking hot. Joel’s control slips, possessed by his urges. 

He reaches for Javier’s face to cup his jaw and hold him still. And he gives in. Fucking into Javier’s mouth, hips jerking recklessly. It’s a desperate strain to tamp down the groans clawing at his throat, and it doesn’t help when Javier watches him with his half-lidded eyes. No. 

“Shit,” he admonishes himself. Suppressing the captivating draw he feels. He tries to find focus, to keep it together–but there’s a loud knock that staggers him. 

A voice, muffled outside of his office door, shouts to him, “There’s a vendor here, says he needs your sign-off.” 

Joel’s breath hitches, “Fuck,” he spits, hands grasping the desk and Javier’s jaw, forcing out a coherent response. “Be there in a minute!” he calls out, voice strangled. 

Javier doesn’t stop. He doubles down, hollowing his cheeks and greedily coaxing Joel to lose control. And, of course, he does. Joel’s climax hits fast and hard. His last attempts to stifle any noises falter. He gasps, body jerking as he comes, spilling into Javier’s mouth. 

Dazed, he can only blink as Javier pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking. 

“Seems to me like that was just for you.” 

Joel is wrecked, leaning against the desk, his heart racing. He doesn’t have time to process anything before Javier kisses him—brief, chaste, leaving behind the taste of himself on his lips.

“Better get out there before anyone worries, boss,” Javier whispers with a wink before walking out of the office, leaving Joel standing there, stunned, unable to move. 

As the door clicks shut behind him, Joel isn’t sure if the knot in his stomach is anger, guilt, or worse, wanting more. 

Seems to me like that was just for you. 

It echoes, slowly settling over Joel. 

He nearly doubles over when the reality finally hits. His thoughts race, consumed by the thought of you. What did he just do? 

…………..

Joel is wracked with guilt and misery for days. Suffering in his own self-imposed torment. 

He needs to tell you, but he can’t figure out how. There’s no version of, “Hey baby, you know the guy from the threesome? The one that I threatened to kick out of the house? Well, he showed up to my office, and I may have come down his throat before he disappeared without a trace like a dick-sucking fairy.” that he can come up with that sounds redeemable. 

Worse, he still can’t get over the guilt and shame of how it even happened. Seduced by another man? He can’t fathom the reality that another man could turn him on, refuting the way he felt when he watched Javier sink to his knees. And rejecting the truth when his cock stirs at just the memory. Joel is at a complete loss for how to explain it away. 

It fucks with his sleep. He jolts awake in the middle of the night, aching and hard and furious that Javier has invaded his dreams. He sits up in bed, dragging his hands over his face. And you stir, always attuned to him. 

You’re warm and sleepy, but concern washes over you in the moonlight. 

“Can’t sleep?” you murmur, reaching out to pull him towards you. “What do you need?” Always so grounded, so considerate. It twists the guilt inside of him. He tries to erase his self-loathing and reassure you, to ease you back to sleep. 

You aren’t quite conscious enough to listen, but when you shuffle beneath the sheets to cuddle up to your man, you gasp when you accidentally brush over his hard cock. Not because it’s a shock to find, but because in your barely lucid state, you’re uninhibited. Earnestly expressing the desire his arousal sparks in you. 

“Use me,” you whisper, slow and syrupy. Difficult to deny. 

“No, baby, it’s okay. Go back to sleep,” Joel argues softly. 

You roll over, muffling a low whine into your pillow, before turning back towards Joel. You can make out his profile in the dim glow of the room. You can feel the resistance, but you give it another shot. 

“It’s not okay,” you grumble, and his head jerks towards you, “can’t go back to sleep now, you’ve got me all wet already.” 

“Okay,” he gives in like he could ever hold out on you anyway. He pulls back the sheet, exposing your sleep-warmed skin to the cooler air. Running his palm down your spine as you melt face down on the bed. He crawls overtop of you, straddling behind the curve of your ass, before lowering himself, caging you under his body. 

The skin contact is overwhelmingly intimate as he presses soft kisses to your neck and shoulders. You settle with ease and whine softly into the dark room as he rubs his cock along your slick folds. He continues, grunting in his own pleasure, as he glides along your seam, soaking in the sensation of you. Wet and needy from his touch. Until your legs are twitching and your whines grow louder, impatient, and sharp until he hears you say his name. When you plead for him to fuck you already. 

Then. He adjusts and sinks slowly into you, filling you inch by inch, grinding languidly against your plush body. 

You’re soft. Warm and wet. You take him so well, and he knows how to find the angles to make you shake and cry out for him. Now he chases it, needing to please you, to give himself to you. He plunges into you deeply, whispering praise against your skin until you’re shuddering and gasping beneath him. He nearly comes with you, but when the thought of Javier pops up, he falters. He pulls out of you and gently flips you over. 

“Sleep,” he commands as he settles between your legs, and you let it take you. Drifting off before you can process that he didn’t finish. Content to dream about Joel’s tongue dipping into your fluttering entrance and his hands spreading your legs wider. 

Joel stays between your legs, making your dream a reality. Trying to purify himself by worshipping you. Pouring his sins out between your thighs. Seeking forgiveness through your pleasure until he’s too tired to dream. 

He’s convinced this method will work. That eventually, he’ll forget about Javier altogether. But Joel underestimates how deeply the other man has sunk his claws into the back of his mind. It’s unsustainable, and his exhaustion becomes more and more apparent throughout the week. 

Despite thinking he’s able to cover up his internal torment, you always seem to know when something is wrong. You don’t push. You’re patient and gentle with him. It adds to his guilt. 

You help out in any way you can. Commenting that he seems stressed and tired but never asking for an explanation. You let him stew on his own emotional nightmare in solitude. As he prefers. 

For now. 

When Joel admits to you on Friday night that he’s behind at work, you simply nod. He doesn’t argue when you offer to bring lunch to him the next day. But he can barely meet your eyes when you smile and trail off about how you know just what will help him get through the day. 

You tell him decisively that he deserves to finish up early if he’s going to the office on a Saturday. He can only nod. Determined to spend the morning figuring out how to confess to you. With words. 

He’s still in a haze of fatigue the next day. Despite the rest of the office being quiet, his head is loud and buzzing. Likely the reason he’s so taken off guard when the door to his office swings open. 

“Working on the weekend?” 

Joel’s pulse spikes as the sound of Javier’s voice fills the room, smooth and mischevous. 

Anger floods his bloodstream and cuts through the fog of shame that had been clouding his vision. Joel crosses his arms and levels a ruthless glare at the man leaning against the doorframe. 

Javier should be the one that looks out of place. Overdressed for the occasion, in the wrong place. But he stands confidently, neatly groomed, and polished. His dark blue collared shirt and fitted jeans highlight his broad shoulders. He looks like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be, and his expression says he knows it. 

“No,” Joel says gruffly. Unperturbed, Javier sails into the room. 

“I don’t have time for this. Get out.” Joel says, his voice low, dangerous. He stands, hips leaning against his desk, prepared to back up his threat. His tolerance is already out the window for Javier. 

Javier shrugs, movements so fluid in relation to Joel’s fixed demeanor. 

“You didn’t say please.” His smirk is maddening. Joel’s fuse is short. He’s not interested in games. Not interested in having anything to do with his surprise guest at all. But he doesn’t move. Words caught in his throat. 

“Besides,” Javier continues breezily,  “you aren’t very convincing. I told you last time, I like this look on you, all mad and–”

Joel feels thorns clawing at his throat. Furious that his nerves flutter in response to Javier’s backward flattery. He can’t be thinking straight, that’s all. 

In fact, it’s damned near impossible to think when Javier keeps running his mouth, pushing every button he’s got. 

“Fuck you,” Joel hisses, vibrating with frustration, cutting off whatever Javier’s next words would have been. 

Amused by the interruption, Javier’s smile widens, eyes gleaming. “Mm,” he purrs, stepping closer, “You would like to, wouldn’t you?”

That’s it. 

Joel snaps, his hand shoots out, grabbing Javier by the front of his shirt and shoving him roughly against the nearest wall. The loud thud of Javier’s back hitting the drywall echoes in the small office. But the smirk on Javier’s face only deepens. 

“Touchy today, aren’t you?” Javier teases, breath coming out in a soft laugh. His body is pinned between the wall and Joel’s, but he doesn’t seem fazed. In fact, he looks pleased with the predicament. 

Joel’s breath is coming out hard and fast, fists still gripping the fabric of Javier’s shirt. This is the last person he wants to see right now. He seethes. Pent up and compressed into a dangerous coil. 

“You think this is funny?” Joel snarls, his face mere inches from Javier’s. 

Javier’s smile softens into something darker, more intimate. “A little,” he admits, leaning in just enough that their noses almost brush. “But, you seem to be taking it pretty seriously.” Javier shifts under Joel’s grip, his hands skirting up Joel’s waist. “You’re so worked up.” 

Joel grits his teeth, a ferocious-looking expression that only eggs Javier on. 

Dropping to a whisper to demand that Joel listens closely, Javier adds, “Maybe you’re not mad at me at all.” 

Before Joel can snap back, Javier shifts, movements effortless and exact. 

In an instant, Joel finds himself flipped, his back flat against the wall, slammed with a force that he wasn’t expecting. Javier’s arm presses across Joel’s chest, and his hips press against Joel’s in a way that sends a hot wave of need shooting down Joel’s spine. 

“Maybe,” Javier murmurs, lips to Joel’s ear, “you’re just mad at yourself.” Javier rocks his hips into Joel’s, grinding against his body in a slow, deliberate motion. A shudder ripples through Joel’s frame, even as his mind rebels against the thrill. “Denying the truth.” He emphasizes his point, pelvis pressing into Joel’s hardening cock, rolling his hips again. “Denying the pleasure.” 

No. Joel holds out. He isn’t going there. Not now, not ever.

But damn, the way Javier has him, the heat of his body against Joel’s. It tugs at the tangled knot of confusion in his chest. The knot that’s close to unraveling. 

“Fuck you,” Joel spits again, but it lacks the venom from earlier. His voice is a little shaky, resolve crumbling the longer Javier stays this close.

Javier smiles, his lips brushing against Joel’s jaw. “Say it, Joel.” He’s all-consuming, like a tidal wave crashing over and destroying all of Joel’s hastily constructed defenses. Javier is a relentless force. 

“Say it,” Javier demands. “I already know. Knew the first night we met,” he murmurs. “Just need to hear you say it.” 

Joel’s heart pounds against his chest, and his mind races. He wants to shove Javier off, wants to do anything other than stand there and feel his body respond to every damn word Javier says. Instead, he can’t seem to do anything. Can’t stop the muscles spasming in his core, or the way his chest heaves under Javier’s arm. 

“You can’t, though,” Javier whispers, his voice a dark, teasing rumble. He drops his arm, releasing Joel from his hold. “Such a shame. I wanted to know what you could do with that pretty cock of yours.” 

That was the last straw.

Joel grabs Javier by the waist, roughly spinning him around, and shoving him face-first onto the desk. 

“You wanna know what I can do with it?” his voice is harsh and wild. 

A reckless energy blazes between them. He pushes Javier down, leaning over him, chest pressed into Javier’s back. One hand snakes down Javier’s side, stopping at his hip. The other hand firmly planted on the back of Javier’s neck, pinning him down. 

Javier catches his breath. He doesn’t resist. If anything, he leans into it, arching his back, breath coming out in soft pants as Joel’s firm body boxes him in. With their bodies pressed tightly together, Joel’s straining erection isn’t subtle. “That’s more like it,” Javier murmurs, breathless but still smug. 

“Shut up,” Joel’s voice is hoarse. He is losing himself in it, the heat, the tension. Javier’s solid, toned body beneath his. He doesn’t want to think anymore. Doesn’t want to feel. He just wants to take control. To push past all the noise in his head. 

His body is on fire. Adrenaline, testosterone, and arousal all surge through him. Heightening every sensation, forcing him to be present. Rooted in his physicality. 

Gritting his teeth, Joel’s hands grip Javier tighter, a bruising force. 

“You’re gonna be good now,” Joel orders, “For me.” His voice is rough dark, and he doesn’t bother trying to hide the anger—or the heat—coursing through him. He can’t deny it right now, not when it burns so intensely.

He shifts his stance behind Javier, grinding his hips forward and feeling how Javier’s body responds. How he invites the contact and braces against the desk. Sweet, thick satisfaction pools at the base of Joel’s spine. 

Javier is still mouthing off, taunting Joel. Despite his voice sounding more breathless, it still brims with arrogance. “For you,” Javier repeats Joel’s words. “I thought it was all just for her? Have you changed your mind now?” 

Joel doesn’t answer. He’s too far gone. His hands move to the waistband of Javier’s jeans, yanking them down roughly, exposing the curve of his ass. Javier lets out a small gasp but doesn’t protest. In fact, Joel can feel the anticipation humming in Javier’s body, and he’s amused when Javier presses back as if he needs to dare Joel to go further. As if he could stop now.

Curling over Javier’s body, Joel presses his fingers to Javier’s mouth. “Suck.” Javier complies, allowing Joel to slip two fingers past his lips. Javier lets a hum vibrate around Joel’s fingers that causes Joel to roll his hips, grinding his still-clothed erection against Javier. 

Losing the war with himself, Joel takes out his resentment on Javier. He hooks his fingers into Javier’s cheek–jerking his head to the side. He glowers at the signs of arousal on Javier’s face. The undignified hunger. 

Remnants of disgust curdle in Joel’s gut. “You’re fuckin’ sick,” he accuses in a husky whisper, removing his fingers and straightening, breaking the eye contact that stirred something fierce and hot in his veins.

Accusations aside, Joel continues. He watches, smirking to himself, as Javier tenses at the sudden contact when Joel runs his hand over the curve of his ass. He takes his time. Enjoying his own exploration of Javier’s body. Smooth skin and firm and muscular. 

When he slowly pushes a finger inside, Javier’s body tenses at first, but Joel is persistent, working in deeper and stretching him open. 

Javier lets out a soft moan, still managing to sound smug even with the sharp gasp that follows. “You act all pissed,” Javier’s whispers, “but you love this.” His voice drips like warm honey with a teasing bite. 

Joel grunts, ignoring the taunts, focusing instead on the way Javier’s body relaxes beneath him, allowing him to add another finger. Javier’s breath hitches and he drops his head onto the desk. 

“Yeah,” Joel mutters, “you like that.”  

His words on encourage Javier to continue, “Know you wanted this,” he breathes, “that you’ve been thinking about it since last time, since the first time.” He continues his murmuring, words spilling over Joel’s desk, “I know because you’ve been in my fuckin’ head since that night.” 

“You’ve got an awful smart for someone in your position,” he continues, mindlessly flipping the attitude back at Javier, pointedly ignoring his confession. 

A strained chuckle comes from Javier, his body tightening with every twist of Joel’s fingers. “You still think you’re in control here?” he breathes, voice challenging and raw. “You’ve got no idea.” 

Joel pulls his fingers out abruptly, letting out a throaty growl as he shoves his jeans down just far enough to free himself. He spits in his hand, slicking himself up with rough, hurried strokes, his mind focused on the sight of Javier bent over his desk, waiting for more, begging for it. 

“Let’s see if you can keep running your mouth with my cock inside you,” Joel’s voice is layered with satisfaction. A challenge. He’s firm, gripping Javier’s hips and lining himself up. The room feels still, their ragged breath the only sound filling the air. 

He feeds his cock into Javier slowly. The tight heat of Javier’s body draws a guttural noise out of Joel, and he pauses for just a moment, letting the sensation wash over him. Then he pushes in deeper, inch by inch. 

Javier lets out a sharp moan, hands balling into fists against the flat top of the desk. “Fuck,” he breathes, and this time there’s no teasing edge, just raw need. 

Holding still while they both catch their breath, Joel’s hands dig tightly into Javier’s hips, anchoring the two of them together. He buries himself to the hilt, savoring the overwhelming sensation of heat and friction. 

And then he starts to move. 

Slowly, at first. Deliberate. He moves with measured control, hips snapping forward, pushing deeper with every stroke. Javier groans beneath him, then manages to mumble something about Joel being desperate, about how much he wanted this, but the words are broken, breathless. 

“Yeah?” Joel growls, picking up the pace, his movements growing rougher, harder. “That’s what you think?” 

Javier’s body jerks with each powerful thrust, breath coming in short bursts. “I know it,” he rasps, his grip on the desk tightening as Joel relentlessly continues. Slamming into him harder now, control beginning to slip. 

“You talk too much,” Joel decides, pounding harshly into Javier, reveling in the sweet clench as his pelvis meets Javier’s ass. He’s entranced by the sensation, the skin-to-skin contact, the heat, sweat, and musk. 

Joel feels reckless. Intoxicated with the rush of adrenaline and dopamine. Chasing an escape and taking it out on Javier. He is distantly aware that Javier has stopped with his taunting. The only sound either of them makes are low groans and throaty grunts as he pounds into the man beneath him. 

So absorbed with the immorality and the thrill he’s blind to the rest of the world and the rest of the room. 

Until the door opens. 

Joel freezes, his heart dropping into his stomach. 

It’s you. 

You shut the door, locking it, before turning back to face both men. Joel’s mind goes blank. His body is still pressed against Javier, his hands still grip his hips, his body flush against his. 

For a split second, he thinks he can pull away and cover up the situation somehow, but there is nothing that can explain this away. No excuse. No cover story. His body runs cold, at a loss for words, mouth agape. 

Then he sees the look on your face. 

You stand still, like a prey animal caught in the line of sight of two apex predators. You can see the fear in Joel’s eyes, and your heart lurches, aching to comfort him. But the rest of the scene has you stopped in your tracks. 

Joel sees your eyes widen; your breath is shallow, but there’s no shock. No confusion or hurt. Just a raw, undeniable hunger. You aren’t prey. 

You stand, taking in the sight of Joel fucking Javier into his desk, and your lips part in a small, breathless sigh. 

Javier turns to take you in, noticing the shift in the room, but he doesn’t pull away either. He is glowing, flashing his teeth with a wicked smile. The locks of hair on his forehead are damp with sweat, and his chest heaves as he remains braced atop the desk across from you. 

“Look who’s here to watch. Her own private show.” 

Joel swallows hard, still buried deep inside of Javier, his heart races. Adrenaline and arousal tangle together in a haze that leaves him unsure and adrift. 

You step further into the room, your gaze never leaving Joel’s as you cross the room. Setting down the lunch you brought, you perch on the edge of the chair that sits in front of the desk. 

“Don’t stop,” you encourage. 

Joel still looks like he’s forgotten how to blink or breathe. 

“The deli had a long line, and I couldn’t get parking,” you trail off a little breathlessly, watching the confusion on your man’s face. 

Statuesque and still, Joel is dumbfounded that you’re talking about being late for lunch while he’s balls-deep in the man bent over his desk. Is this real life? He’s been plagued with dreams of Javier for the last two weeks, waking up hard and sweating. But they weren’t like this. None of them were like this. 

“Don’t stop,” you repeat, voice dropping, sultry and encouraging. But he’s still locked in a trance.

“Can’t perform for an audience this time?” Javier quips, and Joel can hear the eye roll in his tone. 

Joel swallows hard, his mind spinning. He doesn’t know what to make of this. How to handle the fact that you’re here, watching. But with the heat in your eyes and the lack of surprise, you seem so relaxed–no, you’re enjoying this. 

That does something to Joel. 

Something dangerous. 

The invitation in your eyes sets him off. 

“She said don’t stop,” Javier continues on, smirking playfully at you, pushing back against Joel. 

Slowly, Joel regains feeling in his body. His hold on Javier constricting, his breath steadying, “I won’t.” He starts to move again, indulging in the sensation as he slowly drags his cock almost all of the way out before burying himself deep with a harsh snap of his hips. The motion forces a gravelly moan out of Javier that makes your cheeks hot. 

Joel continues, unhurried, fixed on the expression on your face and the depravity of the situation. You have a sparkle in your eye that he’s familiar with. “You knew,” Joel states. You nod in affirmation, a grin spreading on your face. 

“I set it up,” you whisper. 

Your admission hangs in the air. The sex-filled, debacherously thick air. Joel's remaining hesitance dissipates as it all sinks in. Washing away the fear of being caught or ashamed. He can see the glow on your face, your eyes dark--blown out with lust, wetting your lips as you wait for more. He can ask questions later. 

For you. 

He tells himself, dismissing the last of the voices in the back of his mind. 

You can see the gears turning in Joel’s head before something settles in, and the dark look he gives you makes your body burn up. Joel grunts, and you nearly melt, knees weak at the eroticism. It’s a good thing you’re seated. 

Joel slams harder into Javier, giving in to the primal heat driving him forward. Every broken breath from Javier feeds Joel’s growing need. His intensity shoots straight to your core. Your cunt throbs between your legs. You settle back into the chair, savoring the fruits of your labor. 

Your eyes trail over both men. It’s better than you could’ve imagined. You only wish you’d been in the room last week. However, getting the details from Javier kept you aching all week, even with Joel’s newly acquired midnight oral fixation. 

You feel the hungry look on your face, gaze darkening as you marvel at the lewd scene. You don’t wait for Joel’s approval. Hand dipping beneath the waistband of your shorts, slipping over the seam of your pussy, already needy and wet from the debased view of the two gorgeous men. 

“Oh, shit,” Javier’s eyes nearly roll back as he watches you, eyes flicking from your hand disappearing beneath your shorts and up to your face. 

Your lips part, arousal flooding your body at the dynamic between both men. You watch them in awe, like your very own porn starring your two favorite men. It’s indescribably hot to see you Joel so unraveled, his teeth clenched in a feral snarl as he continues. And to see Javier so blissed out beneath him. 

“Show me,” Joel’s plea sends a tingly thrill down your spine. You remove your hand from between your legs to show off the tips of your fingers, glistening from tracing your slick folds. The way both men are glued to your display gives you a different thrill, something powerful and bright that starts in your chest and flows through your body. “Show me everything, baby,” his gruff voice is irrefutable. 

You slip the shorts off, spreading your legs wide and parting yourself boldly to give your men their own private show. You trace your fingers from your entrance to your clit, drawing circles and seeking relief from the pulsing need that has you already feeling precariously close to the edge. 

Joel’s breath comes in harsh pants now, body slick with sweat. The desk rattles beneath them as he drives into Javier, losing himself in the rhythm, the heat, the friction, and in the sounds Javier makes–those desperate moans, ragged breaths, the way he was trembling beneath Joel, taking it all. 

And all the while, Joel’s gaze flicks back to you, watching the way your breath quickens, the way you touch yourself more urgently. Like a live wire had been lit between the three of you, charging the room with an intensity Joel had never felt before.

You’re spread out in front of both of them, a vision he’ll never forget. You freely let out soft whimpers and sweet whines that drive him wild. It all surges through Joel like a fever, threatening to consume him and driving him harder into Javier, who lets out a strangled moan. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you sound frustrated. “You have no idea how fucking hot you are like this–shit.” You watch them with rapt attention, your hand moving quickly between your legs as you touch yourself. Joel can hear the soft, slick sounds of your fingers working and can see the way your body shivers with the same need that builds inside both men. 

Your soft moans fill the room, blending with Javier’s broken gasps and Joel’s deep, gruff groans, creating a symphony of debased pleasure. 

“Let’s see,” Joel encourages you in a hoarse voice. You can feel all of the need radiating from both men, it’s salacious and empowering. Joel’s gaze stays on you as he pounds into Javier, watching as you arch your back slightly, fingers working faster. Your parted lips and breathless noises make Joel’s pulse pike. 

“I’m gonna come,” You can’t stop drawing out deep and bright waves of pleasure as your eyes dance in a flurry between Joel and Javier, taking in every detail. You can vaguely hear Joel’s praise as you work through the sensations. Panting shallowly, you’re fixed back on them as you start to relax. 

Joel’s cock throbs inside Javier as he watches you, and for a brief moment, his rhythm falters, overwhelmed by how much it was turning him on to see you like this, to know you were getting off watching him like this. 

Having caught on to Joel’s shift in focus, Javier lets out a choppy laugh. His own voice cracks with need. “She likes watching you fuck me,” he says, his words slurred with pleasure. “Look at her,” he begs in earnest. 

“Shut up,” Joel grits out. 

But Javier only laughs again, his voice still jagged. “Can’t blame her,” he continues, testing Joel’s patience. “Told you already, that sexy angry look you get–” 

Joel doesn’t let him finish. He slams forward, thrusting into him deep and hard. Cutting Javier’s words off with a loud, choked moan. “Talk too fuckin’ much,” Joel spits out roughly as he leans over, his chest pressing against Javier’s back. 

Joel catches the telltale hitch in Javier’s breath, the sharp, desperate moan that slipped from his lips as his need builds, coiling tight in his gut. He slides a hand over the curve of Javier’s ass, snaking around his hip, tracing over the curls at the base of his cock, and finally wrapping his fingers around his length. 

Javier’s entire body jolts, clenching tightly around Joel at the contact. Joel strokes Javier’s cock firmly, matching the rhythm of his own thrusting. He revels in the delicious sensation of Javier tensing beneath him, and his breath catches in his throat. 

The display of dominance and ego keeps you enthralled. Skin ablaze as you can barely keep up with the intensity of the two of them. You sink two fingers into your throbbing cunt, aching to feel filled and as wrecked as Javier seems. 

Javier’s body clenches tightly around Joel as he watches you come in front of them, for them, but Joel isn’t about to stop. “You,” Joel growls as he pulls Javier’s head back just enough to hear him better. “You’re next.” 

“Just–fuck,” Javier groans, hips pushing back to meet every thrust, practically vibrating under Joel, the usual cockiness faltering and replaced with something more intimate. “Don’t stop.” 

Grinning through clenched teeth, leaning forward, breath hot against Javier’s ear, Joel’s voice is velvety smooth, “I know.” 

“You gonna come for me?” Joel asks, his fist tightening as he jerks Javier’s cock, his other hand holding him steady by the hips. 

“Please,” you add, desperate to see them fall apart. 

“You–” Javier’s head drops forward, his voice a ragged gasp. He can’t finish the sentence as Joel slams forward, his hand moving faster and harder as he feels Javier’s cock pulsing in his grip. 

“Come on,” Joel taunts now, rough and demanding. “Do as you’re told for once, Javier, come for me.” 

And with a sharp gasp and cry, Javier’s body tenses, his cock jerking in Joel’s hand as he comes. The sheer intensity of his release is all too much. 

Javier slumps forward, panting and spent, Joel’s gaze shoots back to you. The sight of you–the way you are losing yourself in watching them–makes Joel’s entire body light up with a new intensity. 

You let out another soft groan, your gaze locked on Joel’s as you touch yourself, your fingers glossy with slick arousal. “Fuck, Joel,” you whisper. “Please.” 

His body reacts immediately to the sound of your voice, the sight of you so undone, and he knows he’s close. He can feel the way his cock throbs inside of Javier, the heat of his release building in his gut, tightening with every rough movement. But this. Having you here, watching pushes him to the edge in a way he hadn’t anticipated. 

Hips stuttering, Joel’s orgasm tears through him. Groaning deep within his chest, his body jerks forward as he comes inside of Javier. His fingers dig so hard into Javier’s hips that he knows he’s going to leave bruises. 

Javier shudders beneath him, panting, body spent, but still bracing himself against the desk as Joel rides out the last of his release, breath coming in harsh, uneven pants. He looks at you, and a grin spreads on his face. The wrung-out expression really does it for you. 

Your eyes are half-lidded, face hot with arousal, fingers desperately reaching for the sensitive spot inside your cunt that Joel reaches with ease. Both men’s dark eyes rake over your body, spurring you on. Writhing under your own hands and their heady expressions. 

“Goddamn,” Javier breathes raggedly, but his tone is laced with admiration as he watches you. It makes you glow. “So pretty like that.” You moan louder, body arching as you ride the edge of your release. 

“Such a good girl,” Joel says. “Come for us.” 

With a shattered breath, you come–moans filling the room as your core contacts in waves. Until you’re cursing and panting softly. Letting the praise flowing from Joel and Javier wash over you. You giggle softly, acknowledging you feel more cockdrunk than the two of them look despite only watching. 

You feel a warmth settling between the three of you. 

It makes your limbs feel loose and floaty as you smile lazily, watching both men tuck their softening cocks back into their jeans. You swell with pride. For your own luck, snagging two incredibly gorgeous men. And for successfully executing your plan. 

You know there’s more work to do. You catch the awkward pauses and shuffling, but you can only allow your heart to swell as Joel helps you to your feet as if your legs stopped working. A deep-seated contentment unfurls in your chest when his arms wrap around you. And when he releases you, watching as you pull Javier towards you, you remain hopeful. 

You’ve got more in mind for your two Texans. 

divider: @cyberangel-graphics

lomls:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange

@94namkooksworld

@gothcsz

@thundermartini

@magneticecstasy

@witchofthedeepwoods

@txlady37

@oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff

@bitchesuntitled

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@tobethlehem

@amanitacowboy

@lotusbxtch

@qveerthe0ry

@ace-turned-confused

[ctrlhope]

Love Thy Neighbour (m)

synopsis: Jimin is a patient man, at least, he thinks he is. But you test him so much. Can’t you just be good? Be so pretty for him? He knows you want to be. Knows you can be so perfect, just for him.

p.jimin x f.reader

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: wc: 4.5k

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: genre: yandere/dark, smut, dark content

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: content: yandere/dark!jimin, noncon, dubcon, implied non-human!jimin, kidnapping, use of a sex doll, cruel and unusual punishment, mindbreak, fear play, blood, biting, marking, minimal prep, cervix bruising, dehumanization (?), creampie, rough sex, jimin is lovesick and delusional and also a gross perv, lmk if i missed any <33

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! the demons won and i finally decided to post this after it was sitting in my drafts forever <33 i wrote this about a year ago with jimin in mind, but then i posted it to my anime blog instead. if you read it over there… no you didn’t AHSSKSH it’s still probably my favourite thing i’ve ever written tbh <33 im back into the swing of writing so nightlight coming soon!! as always please read the warnings <//3

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni -> dark content

Creak.

Footsteps. Footsteps right in front of you. Right in front of your hiding place.

Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please keep walking. Please. If there’s any god out there please make him keep walking.

Bang.

His fist hits the desk right above your head. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Why the fuck did you even hide? It was dumb. So dumb. You can’t get away. Maybe if you ran, kept running forever you could get away. But you can't. Not anymore. It’s too late for any of that.

“There you are, pretty doll.” His sick smile is all you see as he leans down, face coming into view. He’s crazy. He’s fucking crazy. You know that. You do.

You knew from the moment he knocked on your door in the middle of the night. He was practically buzzing as he rocked on his heels. His speech was weird, manic. He’s never spoken like that before. Not whenever he would come knocking on your door asking for sugar, at least.

You tried to be polite, you really did. You tried to make small talk, to politely excuse yourself, your hands shaking. You tried to close the door on him but it just wouldn’t shut as he kept rambling. His foot was shoved in the way, preventing your escape. His dirty fucking sneakers– god even now you remember them so clearly. You remember so many things you wish you didn’t.

How he fucking smiled when you looked back up at him.

It makes your stomach churn to think about it now.

You remember clearly how he grabbed you. He forced his way inside, slowly backing you against the wall. You remember how he grabbed your wrists, talked about how tiny they were in his hands. Showed you only a moment of warmth before harshly biting into the skin, red rising to the surface, coating his tongue. A sound of pain was retched from your throat, trying to pull away while his grip only got tighter. His hips forced you into the wall, trapping you. Keeping you as prey.

He said you taste delicious.

It fucking echos in your head. Makes you go insane with how it repeats over and over again. Exactly how he said the words. The lilt in his tone, the smile that made him look like he just saw the face of god. How excited he sounded at the first taste of blood.

The way you could tell that he craved more.

Craved everything you had to give.

You didn’t think demons were real before that night. Ghosts, angels– anything that goes bump in the night was just a figment of one's imagination. Maybe hallucinations. But this, this was real. How you wish this was all just some stupid hallucination.

Nothing is paranormal before you face the devil himself.

Nothing is more terrifying than when the devil wants you.

You learned that that night.

He dragged you next door, throwing you to the ground. He looked like a shadow, only a silhouette as he stood in the doorway. The moon casting a glow from behind him. You couldn't see his face, none of it was legible as you scrambled backwards. Trying, trying so desperately to put some space between yourself and the beast.

His shoulders heaved as he panted. Like a fucking monster that just got his kill.

He had.

He closed the doors. Locked them with what felt like a million keys. He started fucking giggling. Giggling like a goddamn lunatic as his demeanour changed completely. He was smiling like an innocent little kid. He was happy. The happiest you had ever seen a person before.

“Ahhh~” He sighed, glee laced in his all too cheery tone. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Speaking, churning in your ears so it's all you can hear. It mocks you. Mocks your very being. Mocks you for trying to live a normal life away from him.

You remember how he clung to you that night as you sobbed. Whining about how you shouldnt be sad, that you were home now. He’d coo, playing with your hair as he tried to ‘soothe’ your trembling body. His arms wrapped around you in a vice. It felt like he was choking the air out of your lungs.

Maybe he was trying, maybe he wanted you dead. You really had no clue. You just wanted to get away– be as far away from him as you could. You’d do anything, you told him as much. Change your name, leave the country. You promised you wouldn’t tell anybody! You would tell him anything if it meant you could leave.

But he kept you in place. Tucked in his arms. His entire body wrapped around yours, keeping you close. Keeping his face nuzzled into your neck. Smelling you. Smelling your fear.

He loves that smell.

If you let him he would breathe it in all the time, treating it as the very thing that keeps him alive. Well, until you die anyway. But he knows that won't be anytime soon! You’re strong. You're tenacious. He knows you are. You’ve dealt with so much in your life, you can deal with him too. He just knows it.

He wonders what all of your other emotions smell like.

Hmm.. What about love? That would be an interesting smell. Maybe it would be sweet like honey? Maybe bitter like chocolate… Humans are so interesting. They're so fun.

You are especially. And he knows you’ll like him too. He’s sure of it as you finally tire yourself out, falling asleep on his beat up mattress. Mmhmm crying for hours must really hurt your soul. Poor thing. He would fix it. Fix you up all nice and pretty. Yeah, he knows just how to. His pretty experiment.

Well, he thinks that’s all you are. A nice human experiment for him to play with. To learn everything about. Learn what makes them tick, what makes them laugh, what makes them cry. Seokjin told him as much. He could keep a little human as a pet, dispose of them when necessary. But… he doesn’t want to let you go! Just the thought makes him want to cry!

You are already better than he ever imagined!

Bang.

The chair blocking your body is thrown back, assaulting the wall with a deafening crash. Your hands come up, covering your ears. Shit Shit Shit! Fuck, what are you going to do, what are you going to do?! Your body forces itself as far as it can into the corner of the desk. All you can hear, all you can think about is the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Why are you so dumb?! You knew you couldn’t win! You never win any of his games!

He squats in front of you, blocking your only means of escape. You hear him, watch him inhale deep before letting out a sick laugh. One that makes you want to cry. One that makes you feel like trying to run– trying to hide is useless. Maybe it is. You don’t see how you could possibly get away.

The pictures covering his walls tell you everything you need to know.

“Found you.” He smiles, crawling towards your body, crawling towards your last bit of safety. He looks like a monster– he is a monster. He can’t be human. He can’t. You refuse to believe it. Your legs kick, they try to get away. They try to be your last line of defence but his face only shows that of an owner looking at a puppy having a fit. He looks so fond of you.

You want to scream.

He grabs your ankle. It hurts. Everything hurts. You should’ve become numb at this point, you wish you had. You feel your body slip out from under the desk, dragged against the hard floor. Pick you up with ease, lay you down in his bed. His gross disgusting bed.

He pouts. He fucking pouts at you. Sits in front of you..

“Don't tell me you’re jealous.” His frowns, tilting his head at you. “I didn't mean to make you! I swear! I just wanted to show you. How much I love you…how good I could make my pretty doll feel.” You could never be jealous. Not of anything involving him.

Especially not involving the putrid fucking sex doll that lays next to you in bed.

How he fucked it last night, making you watch. Made you hold his hand while he thrust into the thing. Made you cup his face as he came inside.

“How I’ve been practicing just for you.” He coos, a smile gracing his lips as he moves to his knees, crawling towards you in the bed. “Humans are just so hard to understand…And I really couldn’t wait for you any longer.”

You don’t hear his words. Your eyes fixated on the doll that looks just like you. Every freckle the same, every mole. Every fucking tiny detail mirrored yours in a lifeless, hollow core made of silicon. Filled up with his cum. You don’t want to think about how many times he’s fucked it. How many times he’s pretended having sex with you while holding it close. How much he had to have spent to get such a thing.

How deep whatever he feels for you runs.

You swear it probably coats his veins. Running under every inch of this skin. Giving it colour. Giving it life. It's all you’re able to think about when he leaves you alone in the apartments. It’s hard for you to swallow. To believe for yourself. You wish it is a lie.

You let him get close. You let him into your bubble for only a second. You allow his face into your neck. Biting your skin, drawing blood once again. He loves the taste. You think he's probably obsessed with it. You wanted to recoil away, disgusted with how he hums, lapping at the skin. But you don’t. You need to let him have this. Even if it's just for a second.

You close your eyes tight. You feel him relax. He thinks you’re giving in. You know he does. You can do this. You can do this. You may have only made this decision a moment ago as you stared at the doll, but you had to do this. You had to do it for yourself. It may be the last chance you get. You can’t stop fighting.

You can do this. You can do this.

The mantra chants over and over again in your head like a prayer. You feel his hand reach up, covering your clothed breast with his palm. Massaging it carelessly, without any thought or respect for you. In his head you’re probably the same as that fucking sex doll.

Your knee shoots up. Right into his crotch. Right where it hurts the most. Your hands shove him with all the strength in your body, getting him off of you. Getting him away for only a moment while he recovers. Maybe. Maybe you can make it out of the door. Or maybe you can make it to the bathroom and lock yourself inside. Maybe you have a chance. Just maybe.

Your body scrambles off of the bed, moving faster than you ever thought was possible. You race towards the door, arm reaching out for the handle. You’re so close. You’re almost there. You’re almost able to get away.

Freedom is within your grasp, it's so close you can taste it. He forgot to lock the door, you know he did. You didn't hear any of them click back in place when he came inside. He was too caught up in the moment with trying to find you. If you make it there then maybe, just maybe you can get outside. Run as fast and as far away as you can. Call the police and escape from him. Spread the wings he’s tried to clip.

You land flat on your face.

Not even your arms are able to cushion your fall.

A hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you, dragging you again. Backwards. Back into the cage. Back to him. His chest heaves. His shoulders hunch. He looks dishevelled. Crazed.

He has that fucking smile plastered on his face.

“I love it when you run. It's so pretty.” He giggles, “You know me so well.”

You kick at him, thrash your body as he pulls you closer and closer. “Get the fuck away from me!” You yell, though it falls on deaf ears. All the strength in your body is being used to get away. To try and escape from him. He can’t be human. He’s too strong. Even with your struggle he still lifts you easily, like you’re just some fucking little kid having a temper tantrem.

“I’ve been so patient…” He sighs, placing– rather, forcing you onto the edge of the bed. Your knees on the floor as your torso is pressed against the mattress. Your arms pinned behind your back with one of his hands. Your hips pinned in place with his own. You can feel his cock against you. He’s hard. “I really am patient, you know?”

He hums, gently rocking his hips against you. His entire length pressed against your cunt. Taunting you. Words are not needed for you to know what’s to come. “It’s really too bad you know? I’ve run out.”

The simple statement makes your blood run cold.

“I’ve been so gentle…so caring…” He purrs, forcing his sweatpants down his legs. Just enough for his cock to spring free. Just enough for him to be able to stroke himself. For him to press the fat head where he wants– no, no. Needs to be. “I’ve really been trying my best to be good for you.”

You wish you could see. You wish you could see everything– exactly what he is doing. What he is planning to do to your wrecked frame. If, if everything wasn’t such a surprise then maybe… maybe you could make it a little better. But like this… you’re helpless. You’re trapped. You hate it. You can’t stand it. You wish you still had more tears left to cry. But you know it’s over. You can’t do anything now.

Exactly how he wants it– wants you.

You feel him stop moving, an excited gasp resonating from his throat. His entire presence changes in a flash, giddiness taking him over as the cogs in his brain turn. Making up his own story, his own reality changing all over again. “Unless, you don't want me to be good for you? You want me to take what I want? That’s why you’ve been trying to run and hide?”

His frame towers over yours, his full weight pressing against your back forcing you deeper into the bed as he mumbles into your ear. “All you had to do was say so~”

All you can do is whimper in response. Whimper like a wounded animal that's been forced to accept their fate. Your head is blank, devoid of all thoughts and feelings. There is nothing. Nothing you can do.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe a small part of you does like it. Who knows. You certainly don’t.

He blows gently on your ear, teasing you before he leans back. Your bottoms are forced down, exposing your cunt to the entire room. You can feel him practically buzzing with excitement. With some sick pleasure found deep within his gut.

“So pretty!” He whines, spreading your cheeks to get a full view of your pretty little cunt. You hate that you’re already wet. You hate that the feeling of his cock did it to you just moments before. You hate that he can see it. You hate the way pride bubbles up in his gut. The way you can hear him lick his lips like a starved man.

Hate what the other little voice is saying inside of your head. Hate that even maybe a little bit of your soul wants to feel him. The quiet fucked up voice that you always try to silence in the dead of night when you’re left with your thoughts.

“Mm… I wanna taste you so bad but… I really can’t wait anymore… what am I supposed to do!!” You can practically hear the pout plastered on his lips. “Ah~”

The fat head of his cock finds its way back to your cunt, dragging itself up and down your lips. Milking every last bit of wetness out of your hole. Your nails dig into your own hands— maybe his. It’s hard to tell where you stop and he begins. When he’s this close it’s hard to tell much of anything.

“We have forever together don’t we?” He chuckles, his head stopping at your unprepped little hole. Attempting to push into it with just enough pressure to have you squirm. Have you bite down on the sheet to silence any sounds that might try to come through. He’s too thick. “We can try out all sorts of fun things together~”

His thumb aids as he tries to push the head of his cock inside. Prodding, trying to force his way inside without a care in the world for how it might hurt. How it might feel for you. He’s too big— you’re, you’re too tight. You can’t take it! It won’t fit you just, just–!

“Mmmm!!” A muffled cry breaks free from your throat as the head of his cock buries itself in your cunt. Your ears ring, pain taking over your senses as he lets out a mouth watering, near pornographic moan from above you.

His grip on your wrists tighten, eyes staring at where he’s fucked himself into you. Wow~ it’s so pretty. He never expected a human to feel this good! It’s incredible! Magnificent! And this is just the first inch of him? Oh my… he can only imagine what bottoming out with feel like— how it will feel when his cock is pressed against your cervi—

Wait wait!! He’s getting ahead of himself again. A gasp leaves his throat as he pulls out, a muffled whine leaving your own. Your hole clenches around nothing. What a cute little thing! It’s calling him back in!! He knew you wanted this, he knows all about you huh?

He drags his cock back and forth through your lips again, red mixing in with the pretty white. He dips his cock head over and over again into your entrance, thrusting himself deeper and deeper every time. Stretching you just perfectly around his length.

Hmm, humans like prep right? He figures that this is close enough. His doll doesn’t need it. She just takes him right away— someday you’ll be the same! He just needs to break you in! But until then, he needs to savour this… who knows when you might come around again?

Mmm… you’re too mean to him. Yeah, that’s all it is.

Ah, it’s too bad he’s too lost to notice you’re already falling apart. Your back is arching on its own. Working without permission to give him a better angle. Your hips bucking, leaning back ever so slightly as he presses into your cunt. Urging him just a little deeper. Your pussy is too wet to think about anything, your head in a daze as he teases you, taunts you relentlessly.

You don’t want this— at least you think you don’t. But, it’s so hard to know what you really want when your head gets like this. When it’s actually feeling good. When the pleasure mixes with pain to concoct something dangerous. Something that makes you unsure of anything, really. Maybe you’re dumb, maybe you’re stupid. Yeah. You probably are. But that’s okay. He likes that.

He likes you.

He slides his cock inside of your hole, his hand moving to your ass as thrusts his hips. Forcing his cock deeper and deeper with each stroke. Your walls clenching around every inch that pushes its way inside. God, you’ve never felt so full. You’ve never felt anything like this. Anything like his cock, anything like him.

Whimpers, whines, all sorts of sounds escape your throat as you let him do what he pleases. Give into whatever twisted pleasure is being given to you. It’s hard to stop them when he’s even louder— panting like a fucking dog as he feels you. Feels every inch of you. Makes you two become one.

He fucks into you so hard it hurts. So hard that your entire body is being pushed into the bed, spine curving up to meet him with every demonic thrust of his hips. Every time the skin of his thighs meets your ass, every time the head of his cock meets with your cervix, pain racks through your body. You can’t take it. You feel like you’re going crazy. You feel like you’re the insane one.

The sound of skin against skin penetrating the sound of your ears like some sort of sick, twisted song. A song he plays so well. One you don’t want him to stop. No matter how much it hurts, how it stings you, you just can’t find it in yourself to push him away. His moans feel like a siren’s voice, luring you closer and closer, pushing you so close to the edge.

“Why’s she so mean!” He whines, his thrusts frantic and hurried. Only caring for his own pleasure, only caring about him. “Won’t let me in any deeper doll! Can you believe that?” He groans, pressing his cock so hard against your cervix you nearly scream in pain. Your body thrashes, trying to get away from the sensation.

He shushes you quietly, leaning his torso against your back as he coos. “Shh… shh… it’s okay… we won’t try that today okay? Must be too much for you… poor thing.” His hips relent, slowly rocking into your battered cunt to give you a little bit of a break. To rest before the main event.

You want to cringe at how wet you sound, how messy you’ve become due to his cock and his cock alone. How greedily your pussy takes him, urging him back with every thrust. Wanting it. Wanting him.

You see his arm reach past your head, grabbing onto your mimics hair. Pulling the doll closer. Holding its head so it’s staring right into your eyes. It’s so lifeless. So hollow.

“It’s okay.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Someday you’ll take me just like she can, yeah? You’ll be sooo~ good for me.” His hips start to pick up their pace again, thighs slapping against your ass so hard you might see stars. So hard you actually want to listen to him.

“I had to break her in too, real good.” He pants out, losing himself in the feeling of your tight, warm walls.

You flinch away. You can’t look at it anymore. Can’t look at a face that is exactly your own yet so cold and distant. So lost. Used for months on end. Maybe a little sense comes back to you, a small part of reality seeping back into your skull.

He tsks. Fucking tsks and shakes his head in disappointment. “That won’t do… I need my girls to like each other…” He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at the thing. The creature with your hair and eyes.

“Kiss it.” His voice changes in a second, morphing into something commanding. Something scary.

Fuck reality. Living in whatever dream you’ve created for yourself is better. Better than facing this. You don’t want to disobey. You want to listen, want him to let you cum. Want to be good. Maybe want his praise, even if it’s just a little.

Your lips meet with the cold, lifeless silicon. Tasting whatever disgusting leftover cum can be found on its lips. He pushes the head against your lips, forcing you to lick your tongue inside. “Adorable!!”

He likes it. He likes it too much. You can tell.

Tell by the way his hips pick up speed, forcing your used hole to take him over and over again. Forcing you to accept him into your body. Forcing you to fall for his cock. Make sure no one else will ever be able to use it. Use you like the way he wants to.

Can tell by the way his cock twitches, his thrusts becoming sloppy. His pace completely out the window as he searches for nothing but his own release.

Maybe you like it too. Like the way his cum tastes. Like the way he took this, took all of you for himself. All of you flesh as his. The coil tightens in your stomach, white specks start to form behind your eyelids. You’re close, too fucking close you just can’t take it anymore.

A loud moan leaves your lips, muffled by the silicon held against your mouth. Waves of pleasure crashing through your frame like a tidal wave of ecstasy as white paints the inside of your walls. Ears ringing, vision gone white as endorphins fill your brain making you forget— forget everything about this moment. How fucked up it is. How you want more.

Your walls clamp around his cock as it jerks in your cunt, milking every last drop of cum from him. Filling you up until you’re stuffed. Until you can’t think anymore. Until you’re so tired you just want to collapse.

He drops the doll letting you pull your head back to finally be able to breathe again fully. Your frame slumps against the bed. Tired. Drained of everything it has to give.

He slowly pulls out of your abused little hole, watching the way it flutters around nothing. Watching the white mixed with red slowly drip out of it onto the rug. “Humans are such incredible little things…”

He smiles, shallowly dipping a finger inside your walls before popping it in his mouth. Just a little taste. “You did so good doll…” He pets your hair, gives you some sort of comfort after everything he’s done. It’s the least you deserve.

He moves your body into the bed with ease, pulling a blanket over your shaking form. A nap would be good right now. It’s always good to give humans at least one nap a day! Mhmm… and you seem like you could use one.

He moves behind you, wrapping an arm around your body from behind. Pulling you close to his chest. Making no mind to fix your clothes. This is good. This is right. It’s how it’s always supposed to have been!! Ah, and now he has all the time to make you understand that too. He’s so lucky. So lucky to have found such a good human.

“Night night dolly…” He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair gently. Coaxing you to sleep. “Let’s have a great day tomorrow too, yeah?”

Right. Tomorrow. Cause this is forever.

You can’t help the small smile that creeps to your lips at the thought. Forever. ♡

⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[yujinnieswifeu]

Now... What if I said mean g!p boss wony who bullies you cus youre slow at work.. throw in wtv kinks you want... I be open minded like how these legs are

pairings: sub!fem reader x g!p dom!ceo wonyoung

warnings: lots of smutt, wony degrading y/n, kinda mean wony, breeding without consent (don’t do this irl pls)

a/n: OMGG HIII can i say i love your writing 😭, i read the wony one and it was so good, rlly need a part 3🥹, and also the pyramid game one AHHH tht one was so good too!! Btw, thanks for requesting and rlly hope you enjoy this oneshot 👉🏻👈🏻, im also sorry for being so late to answer since life has been hectic for me😭 (not proofread btw, will probably do it tmr)

Wonyoung actually has this small crush on you, at least she thinks it is. But how could she, a ceo like someone that is just a secretary? Gosh, she hated what you have done to her. So when it was past 9am and you were a minute late, Wonyoung had to say something about it. Scolding you like a kid, telling you that her time is precious and that cause you were late for a minute, it also meant that she would be delayed by a minute in whatever she does since you are suppose to report her what she has to do for the day whenever the clock strikes 9 every morning.

And of course you would just apologise, poor you, having no idea why she was always being so mean to you. You were just a minute late after all, but she had something to say about it too. When she dismisses you after, you went on with your day, sitting at your desk that was just opposite of hers. According to her, it was to make sure ‘her secretary was actually doing their work’. And how could you talk back, after all she was the ceo and your pay was higher than the others by 2 or 3 times.

When you went back to your desk, Wonyoung had a nice view of your ass, the way your hips sways left and right was making her breath hitch, it was like you’re doing this all on purpose, wanting to get her attention, to seduce her. And paired along with that short skirt, oh…it makes Wonyoung think how you would look all bent on her desk, her hand hiking your skirt up even more as you push yourself more against her bulge. Fuck. It was making Wonyoung throb below, feeling her bulge becoming hard, the tightness in her pants as she lets out a small grunt which you heard.

When you settle in your seat, you looked over at Wonyoung, seeing her a little breathless, and you quirk a brow. “Are you okay sajangnim(i think it means boss?)?” She just looks your way, and frowns. “Why are you focusing on me? Focus on your work, or you wont be going home at all!” Her attitude was making you annoyed, and you roll your eyes, mumbling something to yourself that Wonyoung should care, but right now she has a problem to take care of.

Without another word, she goes to the toilet, and you watch her leave, your eyes looking over her crotch unintentionally as you saw what looked like a bulge? You were sure it was, and you suddenly find yourself shifting uncomfortably in your seat, thinking if you caused it. You probably did, since it was only you two in this huge room of hers this morning, where she would only allow a few in, the important ones to be exact. It has you thinking if your outfit finally worked, after all, how could you not like her, yes she has this crappy attitude towards you, but gosh, it was Jang Wonyoung, and she was drop dead gorgeous. Wherever she goes, people would stare, and you were one of them. Now you had to come up with a pl—

“Why are you just staring off into space? Don’t you have work to do?” Wonyoung snarls, looking your way, her brow raised judgingly. You jolted a little in your chair, her voice giving you a slight scare as you looked up at her. “O-oh, yes sorry, i will get right to it now sajangnim.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she returns to her seat, watching as you clumsily get to work. You were acting off and she notices it, it has her thinking why did you not talk back like you usually do, maybe that was what she was drawn to, since no one ever dared to roll their eyes at her, or much so talk back, but you were the first.

During the day throughout your work, Wonyoung could not focus at all. She did not know why, but you seemed different today, what happened to the y/n she knew? You were testing how much she can hold back, dropping something behind your desk, bending down to retrieve it. At first, Wonyoung wanted to childe you, but when she saw you bend down and reach for the item that you dropped, your skirt hiking up a little in the process, giving her a view of your ass as she just stayed silent, shifting slightly in her seat feeling her pants tightening. She wanted to groan, to push you on your knees as she drives her cock in your mouth for making her feel this way. She just pushed her thoughts aside, and carried on with her day, but god, you made it so hard. When you walked to her to give her some files, and ‘trip accidentally’, the files now on the floor as you held onto her desk instead, your boobs was almost spilling out which was the last straw for Wonyoung, immediately growling as she pushes your front to the desk, her things knocked over, landing messily on the carpet.

You let out a high pitch yelp, your hands gripping the sides of the desk as you could feel the pool between your legs at what she was doing to you. “Care to tell me this is another ‘accident’ of yours?” She almost growls against your ear, her fingers hikes up your skirt, feeling your panties which was now wet with your arousal, coating over her fingers, and lands a harsh slap over your core, making you whine out. “Fuck, what a slut, you think i’m so dumb to not know you did all that on purpose? Bending down to take up your pen which dropped, having your ass display for me, and now this?” She growls, her front presses against your back as you arch your back, pushing your hips back to meet her bulge, moaning when you did so.

“Dumb slut, can’t even say anything can you? On your knees.” Her hands go to undo her pants as you immediately got on your knees for her, letting out a small groan when she finally releases her hard on, her tip now swollen and red from your teasing. It makes you gulp, not expecting her to be so big, and she slaps her cock on your cheek. “Now you’re silent hm? What happened to the y/n i know? The one that just can’t fucking shut up hm?” You only whine, feeling your walls clenches over nothing as your clit throbs with her degrading words. “Now suck me off slut.” You immediately get to work, your hands at her base as your lips wrap over her tip, taking her in slowly. She only grunts, watching you take her slowly as she starts to lose patience.

“You can’t even do this fucking properly can you? Always need my help, stupid slut.” She growls, holding your head in place as she fucks your mouth roughly instead. You gag almost immediately, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill as you try to push yourself away from her, but to no avail. “F-fuck, this is what your mouth should be used for.” She groans, her eyes rolling to the back as she continues to fuck your mouth, her hazed eyes looks down at you, taking in your puffy eyes and red face as you struggle to take her cock, it only makes her go faster, her thrust becoming more erratic as she feels the immense pleasure building up, groaning as she pulls her cock out of your mouth, stroking it as she spills her load all over your face. Your face coated with her cum makes you look even better, Wonyoung could feel herself getting hard again. “So much b-better like this…clean it up.” You scoot closer to her now semi-hard cock, licking at her tip as you clean her cock that had your saliva mixed with her cum on it, moaning softly at the taste.

She looks down at you, suddenly so obedient for her. Wonyoung could feel her cock starting to get even harder, and she pulls you up by your hair instead, a whine leaving past your lips as she presses your back against her desk, her hands goes to your thighs as she makes you spread for her. Looking at your arousal, she almost moans, there was a huge spot on your panties now, and she could not wait to slam her cock inside of you. Pushing your panties aside, she bites her bottom lip, god were you dripping wet for her. “So wet when i haven’t even started? Didn’t take you for someone who likes to be degraded.” She teases, running her tip between your folds, watching as your arousal smears over her cock, her breathing getting heavier. “M-mommy…please..” you whine, the nickname rolling off your tongue unintentionally, and she only groans, pushing herself into you without any warning as she starts the pace mercilessly.

You let out a gasp, followed by a loud moan which she returns with a glare, her hand goes to cover your mouth instead, and your eyes roll with pleasure. “Shut u-up slut, you don’t want the people outside t-to know what we’re doing right?” She grunts, her hips slamming against yours now with each thrust, the desk moaning under you two from how hard she was fucking you. Wonyoung speeds up her movement, her tip kissing your sweet spot with each thrust as she makes you see stars. “M-mmph mmh!” Your legs were starting to twitch now, and she knew you were close. “Don’t you fucking dare.” She growls, her words sends a shiver down your spine, whining against her fingers and she shoves them into your mouth instead. She could feel herself getting closer with each thrust, her hips snapping against yours more sloppily as her breathing gets even heavier, you feel the knot in your stomach threatening to spill, your toes curling as you try to hold it in.

“N—ngh oh fuck, you’re so tight, i’m going to breed this pussy okay?” She moans, not even giving you a chance to deny as she paints your walls white, you moan around her fingers, eyes rolling as she continues to thrust deeply, knowing you were still on the edge. “Cum slut.” She orders, pressing against your clit which sends you over the edge, she pulls out immediately, and watches as you writher against her desk pathetically over nothing. You whine out loud, she was being so mean, making you cum with just a touch and not stimulating you, your eyes teary now. “Aww, are you crying now? Pathetic slut, that’s your punishment.” She dresses herself up, ignoring your pleas to do something about it and she has a sudden thought.

“Be a good slut, and do your work properly, then maybe i’ll reward you.”

[writingsbytee]

HIDDEN PT. 3

TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER

WARNINGS / TRIGGERS: Violence, death, reader gets traumatized

SUMMARY:  Things get real when Raul spots Daphne. Will Terry come to her rescue?

TROPES: grumpy x sunshine ; “touch her and die”; slow burn;

AUTHOR’S NOTE: OH MY GOD. Y’all I’m so sorry this took so long. When I say life has been whooping my ass I mean that shit. And I’m having the birthday blues. But please enjoy this installment of ‘HIDDEN’ . I hope it was worth the wait. 

WORD COUNT: 2K +

PREVIOUSLY ON HIDDEN: 1 , 2

*Please do not plagiarize, repost, or steal my work. This doesn’t count for re-blogs!*

DAPHNE

My heart is pounding, my ears are ringing, and all I can hear is the whoosh of the blood rushing through my veins.

I try to take a calming breath before I speak, “Raul?”

Rafa’s younger brother Raul sits back in his chair eyeing me appreciatively. His lips curve into a devilish grin. If I thought Rafa was bad, based on what he’s told me he doesn’t even compare to his younger pyromaniac of a brother.

“Pretty, pretty Daphne last time I saw you, you were at the end of my brother’s fist. Good to see you’ve really leveled up,” he finishes sarcastically, motioning toward Terry. My eyes shift to my right where Terry’s standing and he looks pissed! Gone was the sweet, playful man rubbing my neck 15 minutes ago. The man standing before me was scar personified.

Eyes narrowed with a permanent scowl in place.

“My brother will be glad to know that I’ve found his little dove,” Raul says, a mischievous look glinting in his eye. My pulse thunders in my ears as rage blurs my vision. Before I know it I’m across the table in Raul’s face.

“You limp dick piece of shit! You tell Rafa where I am and I’ll tell the cops about October 4th”. Threatening a sociopath probably isn’t my best moment, but I’m just so pissed off at men feeling like they can take what they want when they want without consequences. Raul’s smirk vanishes and his eyes darken. 

I barely blink before his hands are around my throat, “You stupid fucking cunt! Open your mouth and I’ll fucking kill you. You think you can threaten me, I’m fuck-”.

Whatever he said was cut off by a bullet piercing the side of his head. His blood splattered against my face as he dropped like a sack of potatoes. My eyes frantically search for the source of the shooter. My breath catches when I see Terry placing his gun back in his waistband.

“Never liked that motherfucker anyway,” he said looking at Raul’s lifeless body. I stare down at him in shock, eyes lifeless. I blink hard and take a deep breath hoping I can wish it all away. My dreams prove futile when I open them and he’s still there dead on the floor. Terry’s timberlands come into my view and I look up to meet his eyes. 

“Daphne, are you ok? Talk to me!”, he says, shaking my shoulders. I open my mouth to speak but no words come out. 

“Look at me Daph, shit. Mario!” Terry’s right in my face shouting, but it feels like I’m in the bottom of a well. I’m lifted off my feet and a scream leaves my lips. 

“Shh, shh, it’s just me,” Terry says carrying me towards his office. Once we’re inside he sets me on a couch and heads towards his desk. My trembling hands reach up to wipe the blood off my face. Terry grabs my hands, placing them back down at my side.

“Let me,” Terry said, bringing a baby wipe up to my face. He gently scrubs all the blood and makeup from my face. I look up at Terry, our eyes finally meeting after all the chaos that occurred. 

“You’re blurry. Why is your face blurry?” I ask.

I hear a deep sigh come from Terry, “Daphne, you’re crying.” As many times as I’ve helped people dealing with their own trauma’s, I can’t even identify my own. I wipe the tears and take a deep breath. I can’t believe Raul’s dead, well I can based on everything Rafa’s told me about him. You can only lie, cheat, kill and rob for so long. He wasn’t a good person, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to see him shot in front of me. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your hair soon,” I say, getting up from Terry’s couch. Terry pushed me down by my shoulders shaking his head. 

“No, you’re not going anywhere. I had Mario drop your car off at home,” Terry said, moving around his office. 

“What are you going to do to me?” the tremble of  my voice audible in my question. 

“I’m taking you to my place, we need to talk about what happened. I know you have Lexi, but I want to make sure you’re okay,” Terry said, moving to sit next to me on the sofa. 

“You just shot him Terry, I’m still just trying to process everything,” I was rubbing my hands up and down my arms with anxious energy. Terry took notice and went to grab his jacket, placing it around my shoulders. I took a brief inhale, finding comfort in the bergamot scent that surrounded me. 

“He was strangling you Daphne, he would’ve killed you. I couldn’t let that happen,” Terry said looking down at me with an intensity that I’ve never seen before. 

“You saved my life and I can’t thank you enough for that Terry. But this is too much I feel like I can’t even get my head on straight,” I was spiraling. The ringing in my ears intensified along with my breathing. This was the start of a panic attack, a bad one.

TERRY

Shit! She’s about to have a full blown panic attack, maybe I shouldn’t have shot that little shit in front of her. I just didn’t think, I reacted which is something I rarely do. I squat down in front of her to make sure that we’re eye level. 

“Daphne, look at me sweetheart," I say with an even tone of voice. Her deep set brown eyes meet mine frantically. She’s looking at me but I might as well be a lamp with the way she’s looking through me. I placed my hands on either side of her head, I can practically feel her thoughts. Her breathing is still erratic, if she keeps this up she’ll pass out. 

“Daph, you need to breathe, c’mon honey just breathe for me,” I say, moving my hands to rub up and down her arms. That seems to snap her out of it when her eyes refocus on mine. 

“There’s my pretty girl you think you can breathe for me?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. She tries to take a few deep breaths, but they come out choppy, like she’s on the verge of tears. 

I try to stand, but her hand reaches up and she grips my collar.

“You - You can’t leave me in here. Please don’t go.” She looked up at me with those doe eyes and I started to feel things. Things I shouldn’t be feeling, like wanting to protect her from everything. 

“I’m not going anywhere, but we need to leave, my guys need to start cleaning up. Can you stand?” 

Daphne takes another shaky breath before she stands. I adjust my jacket on her and turn to grab my keys off my desk. I wrap my arm across her shoulder and begin to lead her out.

“Is this okay? My arm around you like this?” I ask, sneaking a peek down at her. She nods her head and we head out of my office.  

“Wow, your place is beautiful, “ Daphne says, her eyes darting around my loft. A small smirk reaches my lips, and I say a quiet thank you. I direct her to the spare bedroom and bring her some spare towels, and some clothes of mine for her to change into.

While Daphne’s in the shower I go to do the same. Jesus today has been a fucking day. So much for trying to ease her into the lifestyle. Was is messy to shoot Raul in the middle of my establishment with witnesses? Yes. But do I regret it? Fuck no. But knowing that Daphne’s ex is Rafa changes things. 

Rafa and I used to be thick as thieves, running these New Orleans streets. Until he got greedy, he wanted to step into some dark web type shit and I wasn’t for it. We parted ways and I assumed we could just leave it at that. But now I see we’ll have a reason to chat again. That reason being 5’2, beautiful and thicker than 2 day old grits. I hop out of the shower, moisturize and spray a little cologne on before throwing on a plain white tee and gray sweats. 

Making my way towards my kitchen I can hear Daphne on the phone with someone. I slow my steps so I can be nosy and hear what she’s saying.

“Lexi, I’m fine I promise. He just scared me.” I hear her say and my heart drops to my ass. I figured I scared her a little bit but I hope it doesn’t deter my plan. My ears perk when I hear my name being mentioned.

“I’m at Terry’s place… he didn’t want me to be alone after what happened with Raul. He’s being nice, that's all. He couldn’t have one of his bartenders too traumatized to move,” she giggles at something her sister says on the other side of the phone and my heart warms at the sound. 

“You dirty little slut I am not doing that!,” Daphne whispers into the phone. I figure this is a good time to make my presence known. Her eyes lock with mine when I round the corner to the kitchen. 

“Lex, I’ll call you later. Love you. Bye,” Daphne says, shooting me an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that when I didn’t come home Lexi got worried,” Daphne said, wringing her hands together nervously.

“It’s all good mama, if you’re not too wiped by today I think we should talk,” I gesture toward the living room. She nods slightly a small smile on her lips as she makes her way toward my living room. My eyes get stuck watching the way her ass moves in my shirt. No way this woman is real. We settle into the love seat and I stretch, a lame attempt at trying to bring her closer to me. A small smirk forms on my lips as Daphne inches closer to me. My shirt rides up against her  plush thighs revealing that she’s not wearing the boxers I gave her. This woman is going to be the death of me and she doesn’t have a clue. 

“Look, I just want to start by saying I’m so sorry Daphne. I don’t regret shooting the motherfucker, he was hurting you and I don’t stand for shit like that. I just hate that I traumatized  you in the process. I’m not usually that violent, but like I said he was hurting you, and I’d do it again,” I’m a little out of breath at the end of my rant. My eyes meet Daphne’s and I can’t help but get lost in them. They’re mesmerizing.

“Terry, can I hug you?,” she asks, scooting closer toward me. A small chuckle leaves my lips before I open my arms wide, inviting her in. 

“C’mere pretty girl,” I pull her to me and wrap my arms around her. She fits perfectly in my arms, like she’s meant to be there. A content sigh leaves her lips, her lips brushing against my neck in the process. After a few moments, she pulls back and our eyes meet. 

“Daph, can I kiss you?” 

Another cliffhanger?? I know I know, don’t beat my ass. I hope you guys liked this one more to come soon. I’m really happy I could get this to you guys today, it’s my birthday and I couldn’t keep y’all hanging any longer, sorry this one is a little short the next part will be longer!

if i forgot to tag you please leave a comment

Until next time

TEE <3

TAGLIST

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[lovequartz]

under wisteria blossoms

⊱ pairing: town doctor!wonwoo x reader

⊱ genre: small town, acquaintances to lovers, fluff & angst

⊱ warnings: historical inaccuracy, self-image and self-esteem issues, period-typical views (marriage/women)

⊱ word count: 7900+

⊱ tonight, i’ll send the glow of a firefly to somewhere near your window

⊱ notes: happy and somewhat relived to be able to share this, i think like aoybb this is something that i worked really hard on and tried my best with <3

The boy's skin feels warm and clammy underneath Wonwoo’s fingers. He’s glad the family called him when they did, thankfully the young boy’s condition had been better than he’d anticipated. He hangs his stethoscope back into its place over his shoulders and turns to the boy’s grandfather. 

“It’s a mild fever, he should be feeling better with a few doses of herbal tea and lots of rest,” Wonwoo pauses to pull the young boy’s shirt down and the sheet covering him, back up, “please don’t hesitate to call me if anything changes.” 

Your father walks the doctor to the door and bids him farewell with a firm handshake as well as a pat on the shoulder. As soon as the door shuts you move to change the washcloth resting on your nephew’s head.

“You could’ve greeted him properly rather than peek at him from the hallway,” your father teases. 

You shake your head as your hands busy themselves with wringing the washcloth. “He was so handsome,” you sigh, “I almost broke into a rash just staring at him.” You place the now cool fabric back into place across your nephew’s forehead, and press your moist hands against your cheeks in a futile effort to bring a chill to your warm face. Perhaps you’re the one with the fever now.

Your paths do not cross with the young and handsome doctor until sometime a week or two later. Your parents had insisted you bring him a small basket of persimmons on your morning delivery to thank him for Silas’s care, and your sister, Silas’s mother, had insisted that you bring your nephew with you.

So there you were, the pair of you, walking towards the town center to find Jeon Wonwoo’s office of practice. 

Silas squeezes your hand to get your attention and you glance toward him to let him know you’re listening. 

“Auntie,” he starts, “do you think I should become a doctor when I grow up?” 

You almost giggle but hold it in lest he thinks you’re laughing at him. His mother would probably run the streets in excitement if she’d just heard her son’s query. 

“Now why do I have a say in what you should be when you grow up? You can be whatever you want, I always tell you that.” 

His lips form a small pout before he replies; “You’re my best friend, of course you have a say.”

Tears try to fill your eyes before you will them away with a shake of your head. “Well as your best friend I say that you should be whatever makes you happy.” You tell him and lean down to quickly press a kiss to his cheek. “Now let’s hurry to Mister Jeon’s office so he can get his persimmons and you can go to afternoon classes.” 

The doctor’s office isn’t too hard to find, mostly due to the fact that there’s only one of them, and it’s fairly new to town.

As you and your nephew make your way to the entrance you notice the wisteria plants that span the awning. ‘They'll look lovely when they bloom in spring,’ you muse. 

The bell above the door chimes as the two of you enter and the young man sitting behind what you assume to be the reception desk nods in greeting. 

“Do you have an appointment?” He asks once you are closer to the desk. 

“Actually, I’m here with a delivery," you say, shyly holding up the basket, "and payment for Dr. Jeon's house visit." 

"Of course," he stands to receive the basket from you and sets it on the floor beside his chair. You watch him smooth down his dress shirt as he returns to his seat. The man then pulls open a drawer at his side and retrieves a medium sized journal, setting it in front of him and wetting his index finger to flip through its pages. 

"May I know the date the visit took place? As well as the patient's last name and address?"

You provide him with the information and watch as he skims through the cursive written on the journal's pages. 

As you converse with the man about payment you can't help but be thankful about how well behaved Silas is as you do. Although it might have been due to his fascination with the fish in a tank that sat in the waiting area, tucked next to some chairs and a table with a few newspapers, you're no less grateful. 

The two of you leave the office shortly after, your nephew a bit disappointed in not seeing Dr. Jeon, the man who has become the current subject of his admiration. 

"I'm sure we'll see him sometime soon," you say, trying to lift the boy's spirits, "it's a small town after all. Now, run along to class. Your mother will have my head if you're late again." 

Silas bids you farewell with a hug and you watch him jog down the road towards the schoolhouse, his bag swinging behind him. Unbeknownst to you that the doctor you'd been speaking about was watching it all from not too far away. 

Wonwoo is just shy of exhausted as he enters his practice. Removing his hat and tweed coat, holding onto them to hang them up in his office. 

Seungkwan stands from his chair to greet him but before he can utter a word Wonwoo lets out an almost comical sigh. 

"Please tell me I'm done with house visits for the day, I don't think I can handle another matriarch trying to convince me to marry their daughter." 

"You'll be happy to note that all the patients left today are mostly general check-ups." Seungkwan replies with a look of amusement. "Oh and before I forget the daughter of the persimmon farm came by with a basket for you and also took care of their bill for the visit two weeks ago," he continues. 

"I thought I caught a glimpse of her outside. Thank you, Seungkwan, I'll be in my office if you need me." 

Wonwoo closes his office door behind him as he enters, hanging up his hat and jacket on the coat rack to his immediate left. The basket of persimmons sits in the middle of his desk, covered with a cloth that had to have been hand-sewn. It's cream colored with a bouquet of embroidered flowers in the corner, beautiful work. It's a shame he can't enjoy the sweet fruit that lies beneath, work comes first. 

The bookstore's wood stairs creak as you ascend and in turn the bell hanging above the door chimes as you enter. Delight flashes across your face as you lock eyes with the girl who sits behind the counter. She returns your joy earnestly with a small smile and a wave of her hand. 

"You seem to be awfully chipper this afternoon." Jisun notes as you lean against the counter. 

"Maybe because I have it all to myself," You reply, with a smile. 

"I thought you had deliveries to do today?" She asks, confused. 

"Well, I did have one delivery today, to Dr. Jeon's office. My father said if I made that delivery and sent Silas off to classes I could take the afternoon off. I might have to do some this evening though."

At the mention of the doctor's name your friend gives you a coy look, which you ignore. 

Jisun and you fall into easy conversation between the calm buzz of the bookstore and her helping whatever customer needs it. You move to sit beside her behind the counter, to free up space. She tells you all about the planning being done by her mother for her upcoming wedding. Her engagement to the eldest son of the town's pottering family, Kim Doyoung, happened sometime this past winter. Jisun was over the moon when he had asked for her hand; you remember her crush on him from your school days. He was set to take over the family business in two to three years due to his father's declining health. 

"I'm thinking late summer or next autumn, because of the weather. My mother wants it to happen as early as possible, but Doyoung and I are okay with waiting a bit longer. His mother is fine with whatever I decide, she's truly wonderful." 

"I'm sure everything will work out. I just can't wait to atten– your response is cut off by the bell above the door chiming to announce a customer, your and Jisun's eyes snapping to the door. 

To your utter horror, Jeon Wonwoo enters the bookstore. 

You duck behind the counter quickly, praying he hasn't seen you yet and clutching your headscarf so it obscures your face better. 

Jisun gives you a confused look but you wordlessly plead for her to act normal, breathing a sigh of relief when she turns to greet the doctor. 

"Welcome, Dr. Jeon! I wasn't expecting you today."

You're glad Jisun is a better actress than she seems. 

Wonwoo returns her greeting and asks about the store. To which Jisun replies; "It's been fine, not too busy and not too slow." 

"How's Doyoung's father? I understand he's been taking his medicine diligently, but I haven't got around to seeing him yet as I was in the office all afternoon." 

She offers the doctor a smile, "He's doing much better, thankfully. We're all really grateful to you, Dr. Jeon." 

"Please, call me Wonwoo, I prefer to be 'Dr. Jeon' during work hours." 

Jisun smiles, "Of course."

Your squatting position soon becomes uncomfortable but you'd rather die than show yourself now, so you continue to listen to the two converse. 

"And the wedding? I know you've been planning." 

"Well, nothing is set in stone yet, but Doyoung and I are thinking perhaps late summer or even early autumn. Fret not, you and Seungkwan absolutely have a place on the guest list." 

"Looking forward to it then. Sorry to take up so much time with small talk, your father has a medical textbook saved for me. I told him I would be by this morning but I was a bit too busy." 

"I see, it's likely in his study then. I'll be just a minute!" She replies before turning around to the back of the bookstore, shooting you a wary glance before she disappears. 

You hear Wonwoo hum quietly to himself as he waits, and you silently pray for Jisun to make haste. Your legs are burning, not only from the weight of your body but also mostly due to the weight of your deceit. No matter, you cannot possibly let Jeon Wonwoo see you. 

"Here it is!" Jisun announces cheerfully as she returns, holding up the thick book with two hands and a sense of pride. 

"Thank you, Jisun. How much do I owe?" 

Jisun calculates the total along with a hefty discount sparing no room for argument, before wrapping the book up and handing it to the doctor. 

"You take care now Wonwoo! I'm sure I'll see you soon." Jisun says as she bids him farewell. 

You breathe a sigh of relief at the bell chiming, and the sound of the door closing. Grabbing onto the counter you hoist yourself back to standing much to the torment of your legs. 

"What was that about?" Jisun asks with a confused look as you wince and massage your knees. 

You open your mouth to respond but Jisun continues; "Don't you dare say 'nothing'." 

"I don't want him to see me." You admit, looking at your feet. 

"Why not?" She seems incredulous at your confession, "Is it because of your scar?" 

Your hand instinctively reaches to touch the long scar that runs through your left eye and down your cheek. The scar that "marred" you, the one that made people look twice, the only thing that prevents you from finding love. 

You sigh before giving Jisun a hollow smile, "I have to fetch Silas soon. I'll tell you more later." 

And with that you wave to Jisun and make your exit. 

The reminder of your scar brings awful memories back to the surface of your mind, and they are all you can think about as you walk to the schoolhouse.

Early Summer (Two Years Prior)

"Darling, is your sister ready? The Baes will be here any moment!" 

Your sister hurriedly pulls the curlers from your hair, and runs a brush through them. "Give us forty seconds Mama!" She looks you over in the mirror before giving you a reassuring smile, rushing to pick up the discarded curlers. 

"You look beautiful! Now go see Mama, quickly!" 

You meet your mother in the kitchen and she gives you a once over before kissing your cheek. "My lovely girl." 

Your mother instructs you on when to join them at the table after the Baes arrive and to bring the persimmons she's already cut with you. Figuring you still have time, you move to your sister's room where your nephew is playing. 

"Hi Silas." You say softly as you find a seat next to the boy. 

"Hi Auntie, what happened to your special meeting?" He asks with a tilt of his head. 

"The special people aren't here yet so I came to say hi one more time." You reply, pushing his hair out of his face, it was getting so long. 

You and your nephew chat for a bit more until the commotion from the front of the house draws away your attention; the Baes have arrived. 

The Baes were a modest family, a mom, a dad and two children, one boy and one girl. They owned the town jewelers, and were surprisingly well known. Bae Giwoong, the head of the family, was skilled with his hands, creating beautiful pieces that complimented anyone. Paired with a wife that had vast knowledge on jewels and precious stones, they had done quite well for themselves.

Hyunsik, the son, had come in earnest with his family to potentially ask for your hand. You were quite nervous, but seeing as your sister had married almost four years prior and had Silas, it was only natural that you were thinking about marriage as well. 

The meeting was dragging on. You had presented the persimmons just as your mother had instructed, before taking your seat at her side, across from Hyunsik who you offered a polite but reserved smile. He did not return it, only glancing at you briefly before returning his attention to the conversation between your father and his. 

Soon, the chatter dwindled and the Baes announced their leave. Your father convinced Mr. Bae to have a cigar with him just outside the house before they departed. You busied yourself with clearing the table of the used forks and now empty cups of tea your mother had prepared.

After your tidying, you swiftly move through the house to the window at the front of it, intent on eavesdropping. 

Peering out you see the son and father chatting amongst themselves, your father probably in his study to fetch the cigar he promised Mr. Bae. Leaning closer to the ledge you're able to hear the two as they converse. 

"They're a good family, what do you think of her?" Mr. Bae asks. 

"They seem to be," Hyunsik agrees, "She's adequate, I suppose. If only she didn't have that unsightly scar," he continues. 

Your heart drops into your stomach at his words, as your hand unconsciously reaches to the scar. 

His father mulls over his words with a hum before replying; "You'd have to keep her under lock and key, the poor girl's mangled." 

The dread in your stomach hardens and you want nothing more than to stop hearing these harsh words, but you are frozen in place. 

Hyunsik nods in agreement, "It's really a shame. I'd be able to overlook it if it were anywhere else, I just can't imagine waking up to that face every morning."

You feel the tears before you register that you're crying, and the sensation is enough to knock you back to consciousness. You stand hurriedly and make your way to your room before anyone can see you in this pathetic state. 

 You pretend. In the day you are just yourself, getting errands done and living day to day. You pretend to agree, when your mother tells you that Bae Hyunsik would not be asking for your hand due to the fact that he believes you two wouldn't be compatible. At night you are inconsolable, crying into your pillow until your tears eventually put you to sleep. 

Silas senses a shift in your mood, but as a three year old he only does what he can. Seeking attention whenever you're sitting idle, laying his head on your lap while you stroke his hair. His little hands playing with your free one. 

Eventually, you learn to move on. As does Hyunsik when he marries the eldest daughter of Lee's dairy farm. 

His words, however, will stay with you forever. 

Drawn out of your memories by the clanging of the schoolhouse bell you quicken your pace, keeping eyes out for your nephew. He appears within a few moments, his own eyes searching for you. You wave to him when he finally finds you. 

"How were classes?" You ask as the boy bounds up to you, reaching to smooth his unruly hair. 

"Good!” He chirps, before launching into detail about his afternoon. Keeping the two of you entertained as you follow the road home. 

The days that follow glide by until eventually they all bleed into a week, a week since you’ve seen the young doctor. Your deliveries go as well as can be expected, though they have been slowing down, and your father is busy preparing the year’s saplings. Silas has gone off to visit his paternal grandparents who live a few towns away, your sister going along despite her relationship of apathy with her in-laws. She did say something about Henry’s younger brother finishing his woodworking apprenticeship so she was expected to be present. 

You find yourself bored without your small friend but find time to chat with Jisun every now and again. Miraculously you haven’t run into Wonwoo at all, though you’ve caught glimpses from afar and he has not gotten any less handsome. 

At dusk your mother finds you with a basket in her hands. 

"Did I forget a delivery?" You question eyes falling to the vermillion fruit. 

"No dear, your father is out with the trees still and it slipped my mind that I had promised Mrs. Lee these. You know her youngest just got engaged," She explains. 

"Ah right I had forgotten. I'll take care of it," you reply, taking the basket from your mother's hands and pressing a reassuring kiss to her cheek. 

The walk to the Lee home is not long, but it is closer to the town than to your own home. You greet the few townspeople you come across on the way, offering them small smiles and polite nods. 

The greetings have you in a good mood so you have a little more pep in your step as you bound up the Lee family's porch, curling your fingers around the knocker when you make it to the door. 

"Coming!" You hear a girlish voice say, followed by the sounds of the door unlocking. 

With a slight tug of the door inwards you come face to face with Lee Daeun, the eldest Lee sister, one hand laid on the wood while the other cradles her very pregnant stomach. The polite smile on her face slips when her eyes flash with recognition. 

"I had assumed your mother would be dropping by, not…..you." 

You offer a shrug, "Mother sent me instead, sorry to disappoint." You reply jokingly, trying to ease the tension. 

Daeun doesn't respond right away, choosing to study you for a few moments. The silence becomes awkward quickly so you try your best to remedy it. 

"Congratulations to your sister, what a joyous occasion for her. And to yourself, I didn't know you were with child." You say with a warm smile, probably the most genuine thing the two of you had exchanged thus far. 

You hold out the basket to her, which she takes sliding it up her arm so it rests in the crook of her elbow.

"Yes, well, our family is quite satisfied with her fiancé. He's the son of an artisan, and they live a few towns eastward." Both her hands now rest on her stomach, "As for this one, it's only been a few months. Hyunsik is over the moon, and Momma insists on keeping me inside for the time being, so I don't get out much." Daeun's eyes seize you once more before she continues; "And yourself? I know your family has been searching for suitors, any success?" 

She may as well have doused you in cold water with the way her tone becomes icy. 

"Unfortunately not. I'm not too worried though, I know finding a suitable bachelor can take some time and I'm nothing if not patient." 

A scoff escapes her at your reply. "Worried? I feel you should be rather embarrassed. My youngest sister, a girl who we both watched play with mud when we were all children, is now engaged. Meanwhile you continue to age with no partner to call yours, as well as toting around your poor nephew pretending he's your own. I think it's time you face reality, nobody wants a scarred wife no matter how pretty she is." 

You are stunned into silence, fists clenched and nails biting into the skin of your palms. Every cell in your body fighting the urge to cry at the venom Daeun had spat at you for seemingly no reason at all. 

"Give your parents our family's thanks." Is the last thing she says before shutting the door in your face. 

You stare at the door for a few moments, tears starting to blur your vision, before you turn and hurry away from the Lee's home. 

Hot tears are blurring your vision as you head in the direction opposite your house. You want to find somewhere quiet to cry your eyes out before heading back to your residence and pretending everything is fine and dandy. 

Reaching closer to town, you stumble across the fountain just behind the main street, tucked between a few trees. A veranda shielding it from the setting sun with vines of wisteria weaved through its wood. The flowers are nowhere in sight as their blooming season is still a ways off. You, however, are too busy crying to care much about wisteria.

Shakily you manage to sit at the fountain's edge before your body is wracked with your sobs. Fingers fumble to pull the knot of your scarf resting against your chin loose, and once the fabric comes free you bury your face in it, your tears never once stopping. 

You don't know how long you sit there crying, removing your face from your tear stained head scarf every so often to breathe. 

A soft voice is the thing that finally brings you back to reality, and there before you with worry etched into his wrinkled brow is Jeon Wonwoo. 

Your mind blanks at the sight of him, and it feels as if someone has stuffed cotton in your ears as Wonwoo's lips move but you cannot hear a word he utters. His concerned frown deepens as he gets no response from you, leaning closer. It's as if all the blood in your body rushes to your head and you feel yourself falling backwards as if someone had grabbed onto the back of your dress and yanked. 

Wonwoo cries in surprise as he watches you fall towards the water, arms reaching out to grab you. The sound kicks your brain into gear, it's too late to stop your descent but you throw your hands back to catch yourself. A loud splash echoes through the small area before you are engulfed in the sensation of cold water drenching your skin and clothes. Wonwoo as he lunged to grab you had also met with the fountain water, his hands and forearms submerged, and his body leaning over top of yours. 

Silence buzzes between the two of you as the only thing you can do is stare at each other. It's only then do you truly realize the situation that you've found yourself in. Wonwoo's face is mere inches from your own and the only thing you can think is how much more handsome he looks up close. His strong jaw, sharp nose, and the flecks of honey that swim in the brown of his irises. 

You notice him studying your own face, and as his eyes drift over to the left you remember why you were crying in the first place. Your hand snaps up to cover your scar and this is what seems to break the trance between you and the doctor. Wonwoo can feel the blood rushing to his ears as he scrambles back to his feet, bowing his head and offering apology after apology.

 When you don't respond his eyes meet yours, and he notices you have not made any attempt to remove yourself from the fountain. Your green dress is bunched up over your knees, the fabric now dark due to the water, and your patterned head scarf still gripped in hand. 

Wonwoo's face still feels like it has been set ablaze but he offers you both of his hands, "May I?" 

You nod shakily before he leans over and your hands reach up to grasp his own. He pulls you firmly, but not yanking, and even lets one of your hands go to loop an arm around your waist for a more secure hold. 

You notice how firm his body feels against yours and how much taller he is than you'd thought now that you're practically pressed together. Heat rushes to your cheeks. 

Wonwoo slowly removes his arm from your waist and his hand from yours, taking half a step back to give you some (much needed) space. 

"Are you alright? I feel awful about startling you, but I heard the crying and wanted to know if you were okay." 

"I'm fine," you reply, voice small, "my apologies for getting you wet." 

The doctor's lips twitch and you feel perhaps he wants to laugh at you. You wouldn't fault him, you are soaked to the bone, rivulets of water running down your legs beneath your dress. 

"Water under the bridge." 

You almost giggle at that, but duck your head down and compose yourself quickly. 

Wonwoo continues; "Would you mind walking with me to my practice? I live right above it, and would feel better if I could get you into something dry before escorting you home. I know you live a bit out of town." 

Before you can respond Wonwoo must have realized how he sounded. 

"I know because you left me the persimmons and I treated the young boy, though I didn't see you there. I have seen you around town with him though, just briefly of course, completely coincidentally. I don't go out of my way to catch a glimpse of you here and there. I promise, I'm not a strange person." Wonwoo rambles in an attempt to clear the air, though you're not sure it needed clearing in the first place. 

The space above Wonwoo’s office is quaint, what it lacks in size it makes up for in homey-ness. Books piled neatly from where they spill out of the bookshelf, a warm armchair nestled right beside it. A dining table with one chair, both a dark cherrywood, sits against the wall adjacent to the small kitchenette. There’s a small wood-burning stove that looks well loved. Everything in the space feels very Wonwoo to you. 

Speaking of, you can hear him rustling through the drawers in the other room. He ushered you in despite your protests, not wanting to drip all over his home. Once inside he disappeared for a moment, reappearing with a towel clutched in his hand, and then layed it across the floor in front of you. “Since you feel so strongly about not getting my floor wet,” he’d said, before disappearing once more. 

You fiddle with your fingers, still drenched to the bone, as your clothes drip drip drip onto the towel. 

Finally, Wonwoo exits the room, pulling the door closed behind him with a bundle of clothes tucked safely in his other arm. 

“I’m sure they won’t fit like a glove, but you’re likely grateful for dry clothes either way.” His tone is a bit teasing, and you can only nod in response with your ears feeling hot. 

“The bathroom is just opposite of my room,” He says, passing over the clothes to your hands, “take your time. It’s just about dark so I’ll be sure to walk you home. You can call your parents, or husband, when you’re dressed. I have a phone.” He continues. 

The ‘husband’ comment makes you bristle but you decide to clear the air with Wonwoo at a later time, desperately wanting to get out of this wet dress.

“Thank you,” you reply softly, and turn to scurry into the safety of the bathroom. 

You get dressed quickly, not bothering with your undergarments. You’d rather have wet undergarments than be bare underneath clothes that don’t even belong to you, the thought flushes your whole body with heat. 

Wonwoo directs you to the phone, it rests on a side table next to the armchair,  and you dial your house phone with urgency, despite the slowness of the crank dial. The line rings for a few moments, and as you hear the other line click “Mother?” tumbles from your lips. 

Your mother says your name with surprise, “Darling where are you? Are you still at the Lees’?” 

“No, something happened on the way home. But I’m with Doctor Jeon, you know Doctor Jeon? He treated Silas when he had that god-awful fever. Well, he helped me out, so I’m fine. He insisted I call you before he accompanied me home, so I was just letting you know Momma.” 

You listen to your mother talk for a bit more before you bid her goodbye, her voice ringing out a “Be safe on your way home!” before you set the receiver down. 

“Thank you for letting me use your phone, and for the clothes,” you say to Wonwoo, who sits across the room from you in that dining table chair. 

“Of course,” he replies, “now let's get you home.” 

The small talk as the two of you walk the path to your family home is pleasant enough. You find that Wonwoo has somewhat of an eclectic sense of humor, and he’s quite witty despite the seriousness of his profession. In no time your home is visible, and you feel a tinge of disappointment at its sight. 

“Well, I suppose this is where we part,” Wonwoo sighs as the two of you stand in front of the gate of your home. 

“I suppose,” you echo.

A long pause ebbs between you both as you gaze at each other.

Suddenly you feel a jolt go through you as you have a realization. You’d forgotten your dress on the floor of his bathroom. 

“My dress,” you say bashfully, “I left it in your bathroom.” 

“That’s okay, I’ll get it washed for you. You can come by the office in the next few days, I’ll have it nice and clean.” He assures you with a soft smile. 

“Thank you,” you reply. 

Before you can turn to leave Wonwoo continues; “I haven’t seen your boy around, Silas was it? How’s he fairing these days?” 

You offer the doctor a tight lipped smile, “His father took him to visit family a few towns over.” You think you have to clear this misunderstanding up before it's too late. 

“Also, he’s not mine. Silas, I mean, he’s my sister’s son. I’m not married, I’ve never been.” 

“I see,” Wonwoo replies, and you feel you may have offended him somehow at his tone but he continues; “That’s good then, I felt I may have been acting inappropriately towards you. Thinking you were married and all.” 

“I didn’t think you were acting inappropriately at all.” 

“That brings me relief. Then you won’t think me telling you how lovely I think you look would be inappropriate either? Considering you’re unmarried.” 

You feel your ears are deceiving you, because surely Jeon Wonwoo didn’t just say he thinks you look lovely. But as you gaze at his face, a handsome smirk paints his lips, perhaps your ears work just fine. 

It seems your mother has never had a more perfect sense of timing as she swings the front door open shouting your name. 

You tear your gaze away from Wonwoo to call back to her; “I’m here! No need to shout.” 

You hear her footsteps as she makes her way to the gate, shooting Wonwoo an apologetic glance. He offers a soft smile in response. 

It isn’t long before you hear the rattling of the gate lock and your mother’s voice again “Honey, what are you doing loitering around outside…“ Her words trail off as she takes in Wonwoo standing across from you. Her gaze flits between the two of you, pausing at your state of dress; a linen shirt and black trousers that were a few sizes too big. Despite her obvious shock your mother paints on a lovely smile and bows her head in greeting to the doctor. 

“Oh my, Doctor Jeon, I had forgotten you’d be accompanying her home! Thank you for helping my daughter out, you’re quite the gentleman.” 

You shoot your mother an incredulous look, not wanting her to embarrass you further than you yourself already have. She ignores you, of course. 

Wonwoo bows his head with a smile, “Not at all. It was my pleasure, your daughter has quite the interesting personality.” 

“Doesn’t she? We have no idea where she gets it from, there’s no one like her in the family.” 

You assume your mother is trying to rope Wonwoo into having something to eat by the glint in her eye so you jump in. 

“I’m sure Wonwoo would like to head home, Momma. He has a bit of a walk back into town.” 

“Do you?” She turns to him, “We’d hate to keep you.” 

“I have some time,” Wonwoo assures her, “there’s no one waiting for me at home.” 

You can’t help but feel betrayed by Wonwoo’s choice to indulge your mother. 

“Really? Have you eaten? Let me pack some food for you to take!” 

And before any of you can say anything, your mother has Wonwoo’s wrist in her grip gently leading him through the front gate and to your house. 

You run a hand down your face before following. 

Your mother leads Wonwoo through the house, through the living room, to have him sit on the ledge just outside the living room doors that open up to the garden. 

“Now you wait right here,” your mother tells him, “I’ll have my daughter fetch you a drink while I pack up something for you!” 

“Thank you,” Wonwoo replies. 

She eyes you meaningfully before grabbing your arm to drag you to the kitchen. 

“There’s some cold yuzu tea in the fridge, take him a glass please.” She sets a medium sized cup onto a saucer, and you recognize it as a part of the china set your family typically uses for important guests. It’s white with some foliage painted on the side. 

You follow your mother’s command as she busies herself with packing side dishes, reaching past her into the fridge where the pot of yuzu tea sits. 

After pouring a cup you garnish it with a rosemary sprig you pluck from the plant sitting on the kitchen’s windowsill. You're careful not to spill as you make your way to where Wonwoo waits, your pace slow. 

He gives you a kind smile as you set the cup and saucer in front of him, thanking you in a soft voice. 

“Your mother made this?” He asks, after having a sip. The tea is quite refreshing, and it's probably one of the best yuzu teas he’s ever had. 

You shake your head. “I made the pot this time, usually whoever finds it running low makes it, between me and her of course. My older sister can’t brew tea to save her life, she takes after father.” 

“Well, it’s delicious. I suppose you’re quite the master when it comes to brewing tea.” 

You shake your head again, bashfully. You feel small under Wonwoo's fond gaze, not sure what is the appropriate way to act when he's showing you such kindness. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, with Wonwoo sipping at his tea and you trying to discreetly study his face. You know you've thought this before but he really is quite handsome. 

"The garden is beautiful, I don't think I've seen one built in the middle of a home like this before." 

"My great-grandfather built this house," you reply, moving so your body is parallel with Wonwoo's, both of you facing the open space. "He traveled a bit with my great-grandmother and when they built this house they took inspiration from some of the homes they stayed in on their travels." 

"I see." He replies, setting his now empty cup down, his knuckles brushing the side of your hand as he does so. 

You pull your hand away, as if burned, and heat flushes your body. 

Wonwoo doesn't comment on this thankfully but you think you see the edge of his lips twitch. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting!" Your mother's voice rings out. Walking to where you and Wonwoo sit with the containers of food wrapped up in an orange cloth. She sets it between you and Wonwoo as she kneels.

"I don't know what you like, so I added a bit of everything! I snuck in a couple of persimmons as well, we have more than enough." 

"Thank you kindly," Wonwoo says sweetly, giving your mother a smile. 

"It's no trouble dear! And don't worry about the containers, I'll have this one fetch them from you whenever." She says, motioning to you. 

"Well, thank you again. I should be getting on my way now, I've overstayed my welcome it seems." 

"Oh not at all!" Your mother pats his arm, "We're always happy to have you Doctor Jeon. My daughter will see you out, don't be a stranger now!" 

Wonwoo gathers the cloth in his fist, and the cup and saucer in his free hand. You take the china, passing it to your mother before leading Wonwoo back towards the entrance of your home. 

Soon you are in the exact same setting you were when you had arrived; you and Wonwoo standing across from each other at the gate. 

"My apologies for my mother, she's the type to flit around even if you tell her to sit still." 

"Not at all. She's quite the character, but I can tell she's also immensely kind. I now know where you get it from." The smile on Wonwoo's lips is teasing and you think about how nice it is to have someone compliment you. 

After a few more short moments of small talk you urge the doctor to be on his way. The sun had already sunk low behind the horizon and the path back to town settled in darkness. You hurry to grab him a lantern, just to help him light his way home, as the roads would absolutely be dark until about halfway into town. 

Wonwoo promises to make it home safely, and he watches you enter your house before turning and making his way to his own. 

Later that night you lay awake, palm pressed to your racing heart, replaying the moment Wonwoo called you lovely over and over again in your mind.

The next few days are spent with you staying busy, too busy even to go see Wonwoo for your dress. Pruning the persimmon trees and overall maintenance of the farm are the allotted tasks that fall to you. The workload is a bit heavy due to your sister and her family’s absence. 

You’ve taken to sleeping in Wonwoo’s linen shirt, his pants have been washed and folded, but perhaps selfishly, you can't bring yourself to part from his shirt. It smells like him, petrichor with a light musk and the hint of something floral. It's intoxicating and the scent lulls you to sleep better than any tea you’ve ever had. 

Sadly, you aren’t meant to hold on to the young doctor’s clothes forever. You have your mother wash the shirt, and find a bag to put Wonwoo’s clean clothes in so they can be returned to him. You intend to slip out quickly, but when your mother catches wind of your plans she rushes off to grab a few persimmons to send with you. 

“Please, he’ll be sick of persimmons at this rate,” you whine. 

She ignores your concern, slipping the wrapped fruits into your hand. “Nonsense! Nobody can be sick of persimmons,” she argues. 

Soon, you are on your way to the doctor’s office. Unfortunately, with the persimmons in tow. The walk to town is pleasant enough, and you get a sense of tranquility with nobody else on the path except for yourself and the occasional woodland creature that makes an appearance. 

You made a point to doll yourself up just a bit, wanting to leave Wonwoo with a better impression of yourself than last time. You don’t have high hopes, but perhaps just a hope that Wonwoo holds any feelings other than cordiality towards you. Your dress today is a dusty pink, and you’d found your sister’s rouge and applied a smidge to your cheeks and lips. 

The air is somewhat brisk, as it usually is in early fall, but the chill still makes you shiver slightly. Red and yellow tipped leaves sway in the crisp wind, it is undoubtedly autumn. Soon enough you are at the entrance of town, face burning with embarrassment as you catch a glance of the fountain, remembering the events that transpired there. 

Your pace quickens. 

As you come upon Wonwoo’s practice, you are surprised to see him waiting outside. Giving you a small smile and a wave when he notices you. 

“Good Morning,” he greets you with a honeyed voice.

“Morning,” is your soft reply, “do you always mill about outside this early?” 

This makes the doctor chuckle. “No, not usually. I saw you coming up the path from my window, so I figured it was only right that I came to greet you.” 

“Oh,” you try to fight the heat blooming on your cheeks, “I have your clothes, freshly laundered. Mother thought it pertinent to slip in a few persimmons even though I told her you’re probably sick of them by now.” 

The smile has not left his lips yet, and he reaches out to take the bag from your hand, fingers brushing against your own. “I could never be sick of persimmons,” he replies, “after all, everytime I have one I think of you.” 

The heat rushes back tenfold, you are beyond flustered and you think Wonwoo notices because of the way his lips quirk up. You feel your brain has been fried at just those few words and you struggle to form a reply.  Thankfully, Wonwoo takes pity on you, despite being the cause of your non-functioning state. 

“Your dress is upstairs,” he tells you, “I didn’t want it to get wrinkled so I hung it up as best I could. If you’d like, we could go upstairs and retrieve it or I can always bring it down to you.” 

“We can go upstairs,” your voice small as you reply, your heart fluttering shamelessly in your chest at the thought of being in Wonwoo’s cozy home once more.

The fluttering of your heart does not stop even as the two of you climb the steps.

You get a lovely sense of warmth when the two of you enter, and you look at the wood stove still kindling. Wonwoo guides you to sit in his armchair, disappearing to the area his kitchenette is. You watch him grab a resting teapot and pour whatever resides within it into a mug. The mug is then wordless placed in your hands, and you murmur a soft “thank you”. 

“Apple blackberry tea,” he explains, “I thought you might need some warming up from the chill.” 

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” you reply softly, “thank you.”

A small smile twitches at Wonwoo’s lips as he watches you cradle the mug and bring it to your lips to taste the tea. “Your dress is in the other room, give me a moment.”

You nod, taking another slow sip of the delicious tea. Both fruits pair surprisingly well, and it seems to be the perfect blend for a crisp autumn day. 

Wonwoo returns, your dress folded meticulously and resting in his hands. Despite how well worn it is it looks almost brand new, testament to his care of it.

“Oh, you didn’t have to go to all the trouble!” You stand to take the dress from Wonwoo’s hand, fondness swimming in your chest.

The man just shakes his head, “It was no trouble. It's something that belongs to you so I wanted to make sure it returned to you in an adequate condition.” 

You press the garment to your chest, your eyes meeting his. You try to think of what to say to convey your gratitude but nothing seems good enough. 

It's almost as if Wonwoo turns bashful under your gaze as he rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t intend to keep you longer, I would accompany you back to your home but unfortunately I have a few patients to see this morning.”

You snap back to reality at this, “Oh! Don’t apologize please, you’ve done more than enough for me, Wonwoo. I can make my way home no problem. Thank you again, for everything.” You give him a nod, walking past him to the door. However, before you can turn the knob you feel a hand at the crook of your arm, pulling you gently to a halt. 

Glancing behind yourself, you see that Wonwoo has stopped you. An emotion you can’t quite place swims within his eyes, and it just adds to your confusion. 

“Wonwoo..?” You say slowly, when neither of you has spoken for a stretch of moments. 

He uses his delicate grip on you to turn your body so you two face each other once more, and the hand on your arm raises slowly to hold your cheek. Suddenly, his thumb is rubbing against your scar gently. He whispers your name and you feel as if you’ve been caught in a trance, you can’t speak, move, or think. All you can do is breathe and feel Wonwoo’s touch. 

His eyes trace the lines of your face, before they find yours. “From this moment onwards, I intend to court you. If you’ll have me.”

His words stun you, a moment of silence passing between the two of you before it is broken by your mouth, moving faster than your mind can. “Yes, I’ll have you. Of course I will,” You say breathily. 

A smile tugs on Wonwoo’s lips and then he is leaning down to brush his lips over your scar, his hand falling from your cheek and finding your own. 

⊱ notes: as always thank you for reading! it really was a pleasure to write this doctor wonu is very dear to me <3333

[lalalychee-x]

DR. RATIO D!CK PROFILE ft. headcannons

♡ WOOO! Per request, next up in this series is DR. RATIO! Didn't expect this series to gain so much attention; should I make a masterlist for it? Anyway, yk those comments that pop out hex codes about character's cock? Yeah, well, I'm going to do that too, and this time its our mundane know-it-all...!

♡ BASICS

girth: #edcfc7 body: #fae9e3 tip: #e8b3a7 size: 7inch-7.5inch texture: pale veins +veiny enough to feel them, very little curve thickness: 2.5inch foreskin: no

DR. RATIO! 's dick is probably well kept as he can't stand mess or imperfections. Looks like a work of ART, goddamn, like its perfectly sculpted. And he's generally one of the thicker ones.

DR. RATIO! 's cock doesn't curve much or at all, again looking pristine perfect. He's overall quite pale, and his tip is pale-reddish, thick and long. It takes up a good 2.5inches of his length off the bat...

DR. RATIO! is awfully stubborn though. He often just plays dead-serious, even if he is aroused by your antics. It does take him a lot of SHEER WILLPOWER to not give in.

DR. RATIO! However, expanding from that, the second he can get off of work, he has you bent over his desk and pounds you from behind. He likes tracing circles on the curve of your back, down your spine to feel and massage every curve and every bone. He grips and feels every lock of hair on your head as he pulls on it gently from behind. 

DR. RATIO! Heavily going off of that previous point, he just loves watching your figure shiny with sweat and fluid beneath him. He definitely mutters in awe at your figure, chanting how beautiful you look and worshipping your body as he fucks you: as if you were the most alluring piece of art to him.

DR. RATIO! is, despite appearing cold, praises you a lot; almost worshipping you when he sees your figure on display. He'll trail his hands (and occasionally his tongue) up and down your body, massaging and groaning with a furrowed expression as he does so. Will be constantly mutter praises and compliments breathlessly as he touches you.

DR. RATIO! is, however, a very work-orientated man. You often tease him, almost begging him to give you a bit of attention when he works long hours, or when he keeps saying 5 more minutes when you come to pick him up from his office to have lunch with him. But its not like you back down easily either...

DR. RATIO! Oh boy, you're lucky that his collegues respect him enough to not say anything when you've finally had enough and tug on his belt from under his desk. You purposefully choose when he is on a call or meeting of some sort with his camera on, before being agonisingly slow with sucking him off. You consider it a bit of payback for his cold nature (though, he is comforting at heart).

DR. RATIO! is (not so) surprisingly easy to annoy, but it's also (not so) surprisingly easy to get him hard. Just a few pumps and a couple of licks from you, means he's already having to mask his flustered state; you can tell because he starts furiously tapping his foot under his desk beside where you're sat. Out of view of the camera and the people he's talking to, of course, but he slips up once in a while. "Yes, I think we should — ! Mmh —! Hrgh, s-sorry. Repeat t-that?"

DR. RATIO! takes things slow in general, enough that he can savour you and really take in all of you, like he was analysing you. He relishes your figure as foreplay, kissing you in strange places, but it's pure admiration. To be admired by Dr. Ratio is insanely high praise.

DR. RATIO! ...How do I even describe balls?! Like, at all?! Am also working on a small Ratio x reader fic soon! Keep an eye out and tell me if you'd like that <3

Feel free to ask for other characters!

♡ Please do not modify, steal, plagarise or post on other platforms without asking. Thank you!

[bakugoushotwife]

gym partners

a/n: this was a hot hot hot request! i hope you gojhoes love it as much as i do <3

pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader

cw: pining lol, pervy gojo, scheming gojo, blowjob, mentions of oral fem receiving.

wc: 4.3

He knew exactly what he was doing. Inviting you over to work out in his private home gym after hearing you complain about the facility you had been attending since graduation. Satoru Gojo wasn’t subtle in the slightest, you were convinced he didn’t know what that meant. He’s been shamelessly flirting with you since your first meeting all those years ago in the classrooms of Jujutsu Tech, and it seemed graduating from school wouldn’t stop him from trying to impress you out of your pants. Maybe it was because you were so nice to him, never faulting him for his arrogance or annoying tendencies. It didn’t hurt that you were ridiculously beautiful, and your techniques were truly awe-inspiring. Maybe it was because despite all this, you played hard to get with him for some reason. 

It was fate that made you both teachers at the same school you used to attend, for it gave him ample opportunity to pester you more. He  overheard you telling Shoko about the athletic facilities being inadequate and the amount of male attention that you earned. He wasn’t so fond of the latter statement, though he knew it to be true. You were a total smokeshow, any man would be winning the lottery to cart you around on his arm, the perfect duo of insane talent and looks. He almost thinks it’s unfair until he considers that he himself is also the same way, selfishly enough. Though ever since that day, he can’t help but let his brain go wild thinking of all the ways he could make you his in his home gym, if only you’d jump on the opportunity. 

Your relationship with Satoru was…complex at best. You had been friends and training partners since you met in your first year at Jujutsu Tech, seemingly the only person other than Suguru Geto who could not only withstand–but enjoy–his presence. And then Suguru was gone, so it left you as all he had. Boy was he determined to prove it, to keep you as his person for life. He was the closest thing to a friend you had, aside from Shoko now that you’ve started teaching. 

There was definitely something more to the connection, at least you thought. Banter was seamless, working together on missions only showed the sorcerer world the best team imaginable, and he tirelessly worked to spend more time with you. You were only apprehensive because of your own massive crush on him. It may seem counterintuitive, especially if you think he could like you too, but you kept convincing yourself that it was your own brain playing tricks on you, making you see more to the story when there really wasn’t. He was probably trying to be friendly with you, and as badly as you wished you could have that, you know you could never settle for it. You would always selfishly desire him in more ways, not that you’re the only one. You know every man, woman, and everyone in between or outside of those definitions did a double take anytime he walked by. Anyone who’s anyone wanted him, and you would never be able to blame them. So you shot him down at every invitation to spend time together one on one, avoiding him anytime you knew that you would be alone. 

So imagine your surprise when he knocks on the door of your classroom and slides inside before you can respond, just the two of you. Alone. With Satoru Gojo. You look up from your papers, your focused gaze meeting the familiar, friendly, and fiery blue gaze of the one and only strongest man alive, even with the blindfold obscuring your view of him. He grins, and you look back down at the stack of History of Jujutsu Technique assignments. He chuckles, pulling a wooden chair away from a desk and dragging it behind him as he struts to your table. The sounds of the wooden legs screech along the tile floor until you can detect his frame towering over your desk, feeling his snarky eyes burning holes into your head. 

“Miss Y/N! Long time no talk. If I didn’t know any better–” He says, the amusement in his voice evident as he spins the chair around to straddle, leaning his lanky arms over the back. His blindfold kept the emotion in his eyes guarded, but his smile was bright white–and clearly teasing you. “I would think that you were avoiding your dear old pal, Satoru!” 

You hum in fake confusion, looking up at him with a furrowed brow. “Avoiding you? Oh no, never. I’ve just been so busy lately. All these papers, decorating the apartment, I got a cat recently and I–”

“Started going to the gym, a little birdie named Shoko told me. She says you hate the one you go to, though. How unfortunate.” His features are as smug as ever, and you know instantly that Shoko didn’t tell him a thing. “I imagine she told me out of the kindness of her heart, for our dear friend knows that I happen to have a state of the art, top notch, extremely expensive, home gym!” 

You narrow your gaze up at him. You may not be able to see his eyes through the blindfold, but you knew that he could see yours. He could see everything about you, except for  emotions, thankfully. “Shoko did not tell you that I started working out.” 

“No, she didn’t!” He admits without shame, leaning forward on his propped up hand, his smile unfaltering. “I just happened to overhear, but the fact remains! I can help.” 

“I…work out pretty early, you know our schedule, I just don’t think I could impose.” You smile at him politely, shifting your weight in your seat. He was bringing you dangerously close to revealing the truth. You yearned for him so bad, he had to feel it. Knowing Satoru, you wouldn’t put that past him. An invitation to come to his home every day and work out was nearly too good to pass up, yet you knew that if you jumped at the chance, you wouldn’t be able to deny yourself from crossing other boundaries as well. 

He tilts his head at your reasoning, his jaw tightening and the corners of his mouth twitching. “So do I, like you said, Our schedule. Really, it’s no trouble! I’m sure you’d feel safer in my home, anyway. No pervs, except for me of course.” He chuckles so boisterously that you almost think he’s genuinely joking. You start to nervously chuckle with him when he leans his chest against the chair, his face sneaking closer to yours. “I’ll even get us breakfast on the way to school. C’mon, Y/N…that’s an offer too good to refuse.” 

So you don’t. You find yourself driving to Satoru’s ridiculously expensive penthouse in Tokyo on a Tuesday morning, in your best workout attire and a nervous fluttering heart. You had to admit yourself at the gate via pin, one that he bestowed upon you the other day in your classroom. The house sat atop a secluded hill, and even from the bottom of the driveway, you could see a bright light shining in these early hours of the morning. It seems that he wasn’t lying, he really did work out early. To most, it may seem a bit extraneous to work out on top of training and running missions alongside being a teacher, but it was something that cleared your head in the mornings and allowed you to take some peace in your day. Though it seemed that idea was far abandoned. You park your car and stare at the expensive home. You knew the Gojo heir was loaded, but you didn’t know it was to this extent. He told you to just come in when you arrived, so you did, even though the house was shrouded in darkness, you squinted to let your eyes adjust, gasping when the light is flicked on all of a sudden, revealing a shirtless and blindfold-less Satoru Gojo leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs. He was grinning, beefy arms folded across his well defined chest, all enticing your eyes to trail downward. You could only hope your eyes didn’t bulge from your head or that you were openly drooling at the sight of his carved out abdomen, easily sixteen indents rippling through his midsection. You had to shift your weight, thighs rubbing together without even a word. 

His grin grows and his eyes shine brightly, the chlorinated-pool gaze of his zeroing in on your skimpy little outfit. Your sports bra barely contained your chest, and by the way those yoga pants got sucked into your ass…you weren’t wearing any underwear. He licked his bottom lip, pointing behind him with his thumbs. “Good morning, Y/N! Gym’s this way, I’ve been waiting for you to get started.” 

“Good morning Satoru.” You gulp, approaching the staircase. You keep your eyes trained on the steps, unable to look at him for too long. He stifles his chuckle as you grow closer to him, his form partially blocking your way on the steps. He likes to make you nervous, so he doesn’t move out of your way. He stands his ground, humming excitedly when your bare skin brushes against his. 

“Oh Y/N~” He coos seductively, enjoying the blush that creeps up your neck and colors your ears. “Right this way. What type of workouts do you like? We can do anything! Yoga, weight training, cardio, you name it, sweet lady.” He says, the upbeat tone of his voice making you feel like he knew something that you didn’t. He shows you into the room that was already well lit. Your eyes do bulge from your head this time, his home gym was the size of your entire home. He snickers at your reaction, strolling ahead of you and sitting on a bench press chair. He holds his arms out, as if telling you to behold the beauty. “Welcome to the Gojo Dojo.” He jokes. 

You snort a little, nodding as you step into the room. “You know this is bigger than most people’s houses, right?” You ask indignantly, letting your bag fall from your shoulder and into the floor as you survey all the equipment, weights, and mats Satoru had at his disposal. 

He nods proudly. “It can’t be helped, really. I give to charities!” 

You giggle at his defense, shaking your head as you make your way over to a few stretching mats spread out for the two of you. He watches you of course, wondering if you were impressed by his facilities. He can’t help but admire your physique as you set your water bottle down. He hadn’t ever been so enamored before, not even when he really tried to be into other people just to stop thinking of you. You were perfect. Mind, body, and spirit. You really didn’t need to work out at all, and he certainly hoped you weren’t doing it to lose any weight…my god you were absolutely delici—

“Satoru? Did you hear me?” You ask, waving your hand in front of his face with a soft laugh.

He shakes his head. “No, I was fantasizing about how good you look.” He admits without shame, blinking his focus back to your looming frame in front of him. Even when he was sitting, you were only a few inches taller. He lets his eyes skirt over your frame, smirking without pause. 

Your cheeks heat up, and you’re sure you just didn’t hear him correctly. “R-right. I was thinking I’d do some stretches,then work my core. What are you gonna do?” 

He wants to say something else clever to fluster you further, but he decides to take the passive route. You should be able to feel how bad he wants you at this point, his incessant attempts to get you alone, the way he nags you at work and blows your phone up with memes and reddit posts he wanted your opinion on should all be enough aside from his very obvious flirting. Anyone else would have given up, taking you for not being interested, but Satoru knew you better than anyone. He knew that if you weren’t interested in him, you’d say so. You wouldn’t just widen your eyes and brush him off, you must think he’s joking.

Which is why he’s wanted to get you alone for so long. If only he had some one on one time with you, then he could be as bold and vulnerable as he may need to be to win you over. That would come later, for now, he had to let you complete your workout. He nods at your agenda, thinking of the next step in his own routine. 

“Chest. Watch and weep.” He winks, and you quickly turn your back to him to go to your mat. He was too much for you, as anticipated. You could feel your body warm, and you knew he would see it if you turned around. What made you think you could make it through a workout session with Satoru when you could hardly stomach him being in your classroom with no supervision? He just chuckles at you. Maybe his affection was just a bit overwhelming for you, you couldn’t discern if he was messing with you or not, and didn’t want to embarrass yourself in any event. He supposes he could understand, if only you weren’t so stupid. You were the only person he held on a pedestal, the fact that you couldn’t understand how much you meant to him at this point was bordering on clinical insanity. 

He stands up to put his weights on the barbell, not bothering to conceal his watching you. You could feel it, but you figured it would be more embarrassing to stop and confront him over it. So you just continue, folding in half at the hips to touch your toes. He sighs at the sight of your round ass, your poor excuse of a sports bra nearly betraying you here, your fat tits almost spilling out into the floor. He packs the 45 pound plates on, four on each side, clearing his throat loudly. He doesn’t miss the way your head snaps up, shyly averting your gaze once you realize he set a trap for you.

You lay on the mat, you start with some leg raises, tilting your head back far enough to watch Satoru lay back on the bench. He hums to himself, feeling along the bar for his best grip. Once he’s satisfied, he lifts the 405 pounds without any of the effort you’d expect to see from such a heavy weight. He hardly even grunts, though you notice the sweat start to bead on his forehead  as he sets into reps. You’re not sure when your legs fall down, but you can’t help but be mesmerized. The bright lights of the room make the layer of perspiration shine, his chest and abs glistening like he’d been coated in a layer of coconut oil. You bite your lip at the sight, trying to fight the naughty thoughts raiding your consciousness right now. He does eight, ten, twelve reps at that weight before he racks it again, grinning as he senses your eyes on him. He takes about thirty seconds as a little break, deciding to show off a little for you. He starts another set, maybe forcing a few grunts to elicit a soft gasp from you. He’s sure you think he can’t hear you, but he does. He even hears the shakiness of your breath, though he denies himself the simple pleasure of looking at you. 

You’re a mess, and it’s horrifically embarrassing. He hasn’t touched you, he’s hardly looked at you, and he hasn’t even done anything inherently erotic, but you can feel your slick sliding down your thighs as we speak, and your nipples are hardening under your bra, which of course doesn’t conceal a thing. You watch him lift without doing any exercise yourself, embarrassed by the way he works you up without doing a thing. 

“Impressed by this strength, little thing?” He sighs out in between reps, finally racking his weights and standing up to remove them. He smirks at you, trying to pretend like you’ve been doing bicycle kicks the whole time. You’re effortlessly seducing him, just by being here and wearing that. He feels like he’s trying so hard to get your attention. Maybe this is all for naught, he thinks, wiping his face off with the towel hanging around his neck. He hadn’t even planned to work out today, mostly just wanting to be with you in every form of the word. He sighs out when you just groan out an ‘mhm!’ in response. 

“Okay..well.” Satoru says, his voice still pitched to be cheerful but definitely not to the same excitement you were used to hearing. It makes you pick your head up to check what’s wrong, you’re just about to speak on it when the words die in your throat. He’s slid out of his shorts, just standing there in his Hollister underwear, the ones with the short inseams. They make everything about him look even bigger, his broad thighs and long toned legs, and of course, his massive bulge. You nearly moan just from the sight, he’s literally walking sex and rubbing it in your face. “Since you’re noticeably not impressed or into me, I’ll.. stop embarrassing myself and go get showered. I can still take you to school if you want–I owe you breakfast.” 

Your eyes widen. He’s gorgeous, you’re sure you could wash your laundry on his stomach, the light coating of sweat covering his muscles made your mouth water—and what did he mean about you not being impressed or into him? Has he really been flirting with you all this time, and meaning it? You sit up quickly. “Satoru–wait.” 

He stops, the panic in your voice makes hope bubble up in his gut again. He turns on his heels. “Yes, Miss Y/n?” 

Now that his eyes are back on yours, you don’t know how to say what you want to say. How could you possibly put into words how bad you’ve wanted him for years, how you’ve yearned to be more than just the passing and whimsical friendship that you have. How could you tell him that you’ve desired him in your bed since the moment you met him, though how profound was that? Most people did. “I–I’m…well, I just, have…had..” You fluster again, looking down at the yoga mat you’d been laying on. He folds his arms, grinning at your bashfulness. Your confession was coming, it was on the tip of your tongue, he could feel it. 

“You’ve what, baby doll? Been tirelessly in love with me for years? Dreamed of me every single night?” He chuckles at your expense, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall just like he was when you came in. 

So that confirms it. That’s exactly what he wants you to say, what he needs to hear from you. He loves you, wants you more than anything. All his elaborate schemes and shitty pick up lines have been for real, and you’ve neglected them for years. You still don’t know how to communicate this need, this carnal desire you have to be his woman. So you don’t. You huff in embarrassment at yourself, at your inability to ever come outright and say how you feel. It’s going to be the death of you here, the reason you lose the man of your dreams. 

No. No, you tell yourself. If Satoru can be so bold with his declarations of desire for you, then you would return the favor. From head to toe, your body erupts into flames and your body moves on its own. You get to your feet, eyes trained on Satoru’s puzzled blues. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth and shyly look away, sitting back on your knees once you stand a few inches away from him. You look up, blinking thick eyelashes up at him. Your hand reaches up for the waistband of his underwear. 

“I dunno how to say it. So let me show you.” You offer with a shaky breath, cupping the bulge that slowly grew before your eyes. 

It was his turn. His eyes widened in shock, though his hand found itself knitted in your hair immediately. The feeling of your soft and slender hand holding him over his underwear was only driving him crazier. He needed to have your touch, the real one. He nods, pulling your face a little closer. 

“By all means, darling girl. Show me.” His grin is growing closer to the devilish side. You lick your lips and nod again, tucking your dainty fingers under the waistband and tugging them down. You try to contain your excitement as his length slaps up into those gorgeously defined abs of his, but you can tell by the look on Satoru’s face that you fail. He chuckles, your eyes widening in anticipation and your thighs rubbing together like you’re trying to start a fire. 

He was gorgeous, down to every ridge and vein decorating his perfectly arched cock. You were salivating, he was trimmed immaculately, just some short white pubes there to focus on. You sigh, feeling the heat pool between your legs at the same time you lean and reach up to grasp him. He lets a choked gasp go just from your slender fingers wrapping around his base. He has to consciously think about making himself look down at you, not wanting to miss a second of your beautiful face taking him in. You pump him slowly a few times, still taking in his massive length and the pretty bead of precum gathering at his slit. 

“Don’t tease now, god knows you’ve been doing enough of that for six years now.” He groans, pushing his hips forward so that his pre was spread all along your lips. He giggles at the obscenity of it all, and the way your tongue darts out to lick it all up. Goosebumps prickle along his flesh as you bat your eyes up at him and guide his shaft into your waiting warm mouth. He gasps softly at the feeling of your wet walls swallowing him in, the shocking way you swallow him down your throat was enough to have him fighting the urge to cum down your throat already. You were the girl of his dreams, and he’s been having fantasies of you on your knees like this for years. He groans as you start to move, his back falling more flush against the doorframe. 

You moan at his taste, willing yourself to take him all at once. The weight of him on your tongue was comforting and satisfying, and looking up at the way his face contorts in pleasure, you wonder why you did delude yourself for so long. His fingers gently scratch at your scalp, urging you further down his length, his load rapidly approaching at your gags. 

You let go of his base, forcing him down your throat even though tears spring to your eyes from the action. You move your hands to his hips instead, deepthroating all he had to give you. “Such a nasty girl, swallowing all this dick so good.” 

You moan softly at his talk, actually swallowing around him and choking just a bit. He loves it, the sounds you make and the eager way you bob up and down. “Y/N–I’ll cum soon if you don’t stop.” He warns, though you don’t take it as a warning at all. In fact, you only take it as encouragement to keep going, to make up for all the years you could have had together if only you weren’t so scared. You increase your pace, not minding the ache in your jaw as his hands slide down to hold your face. His features are all worth it, his mouth parted in pleasure, eyes scrunched tight as he fucks his hips into your mouth, pubes rubbing against your chin. His load is huge like the rest of him, the hot liquid sliding down your windpipe. He leaves his dick in your mouth for a minute, still grappling with the aftershocks of his nut, realizing this wasn’t a realistic fantasy of his and you were actually on your knees, sucking him dry. He grins down at you, knowing that your lives together were forever changed. You’d have a while to sort that out, all he cared about now was returning the favor, making you feel as good as you just made him feel. His hands gently stroke your cheeks, and you slide off him with a pop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Your eyes never left his, and he couldn’t tear himself away either. 

Your heart pounded in your ears, and you knew this meant big changes for your previously platonic relationship. “Pretty girl, god I’m so glad you did that…let me make you feel good too, please?” He asked, the whine at the end so desperate you could hardly believe Satoru Gojo was begging you to eat your pussy. 

“I–I’m sweaty, it’s not as bad for dick..” You giggle shyly, unable to look at him and say such a thing. 

“I have a shower. C’mon. We have time.” He wiggles his brows, stepping out of his underwear entirely. His hands pull you back to your feet, keeping his hold on you as he directs you to the shower.

[moonstruckme]

so i read somewhere that sometimes a better response to someone struggling with depression is warmth, rather than positivity and i was thinking if you’d be interested in writing a bau!reader x spencer pre-relationship or established relationship whichever u prefer!! where he comforts a depressed reader having a rougher couple of days & is very gentle and understanding and warm towards her 💘

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: depression

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 638 words

You’ve been completely useless through this whole case. You’d sat with the team during various briefings, gone along to view crime scenes and question witnesses, but your brain just wasn’t working hard enough to put anything together. Lately, the effort of cranking the gears is too much. 

You’re considering leaving the rest of your paperwork for another day. You want to not be here so badly. You want your bed. You want to stop being a burden to the team that’s been carrying your dead weight for the past couple of days (and giving you increasingly inquisitive looks throughout that time), and to go home and sleep the weekend away. 

It’s a testament to your fatigue that you smell the coffee before you hear Spencer approaching. Morgan would hand you your ass if he knew. 

“Thanks,” you say, making an effort to smile at Spencer as he sets the plain ceramic mug on your desk. The coffee inside is barely brown, letting you know that he’s already loaded it down with cream and sugar the way you like. 

“Seems like you might have a long night.” He leans back against your desk and braces his hands on either side of his hips, nodding towards your paperwork. 

You shrug. “I don’t know, I’m thinking of leaving it for Monday. Strauss doesn’t need my report that badly.” 

Spencer nods again. “Are you doing okay?” 

“Yeah.” You blow gently on your coffee, wishing the aroma brought you the same sense of contentment it usually does. “Why?” 

“You never let your paperwork sit overnight,” he says. “And you’re not eating as much, having trouble concentrating, looking tired all the time…” Spencer pauses, meeting your eyes. It’s an effort not to drop your gaze. He sounds like he’s been adding things up for a while. “Do you need anything?” 

You smile again. It feels better this time, more genuine. “I’m just having a tough couple of days,” you tell him. “It happens to me sometimes, it’ll pass. But thank you.” 

Spencer’s face smooths out and pinches all at once. For a profiler, he’s shockingly horrible at controlling his expressions. Or maybe he just doesn’t feel the need to around your team. You read him plain as text: relief at having an identified problem, distress at the lack of an easy solution. 

You know he means well, but you can’t stick around to bear the weight of any more disappointment.

“I think I’m going to head out,” you do your best to sound calm, reassuring, as you gather your bag from beneath your desk. “See you Monday, Spence.” 

“Wait.” You pause, but then Spencer’s falling into step beside you, grabbing his bag to follow you to the exit. “Do you want to come over?” 

You look at him, surprised. “To your place?” 

He nods. “Yeah, there’s a marathon of the Jurassic Park movies on tonight. We could watch them and order pizza, or whatever you want.” 

A little laugh startles out of you. The sensation feels odd and atavistic, like a bubble popping in your chest. “You like Jurassic Park?” 

“I like talking about how unfeasible it is,” Spencer says, pressing the button on the elevator. “Did you know velociraptors were about the size of a large bird?” 

“...I did not.” 

“Probably because you watched Jurassic Park.” He smiles, and you can’t help but copy him. “Really, I’m not attached to the idea of watching them. We can do whatever you want.” 

The inside of your lip finds its way between your teeth, but Spencer glances down and you release it. “I’m not sure I can pass up the opportunity to witness that much berating,” you say. “How many are there?” 

“Six, not including two short films or the animated series.” 

“Will you hold it against me if I fall asleep?” 

“Not at all.”

[junabuggy]

Okayy so I’ve done something similar but I wanted to see it from someone else but it’s Creepy pasta room head canons !!! I don’t mind who you do but I would love to see Jack’s most of all !! Thank you <3

Creepypasta room headcanons

A/n: At the beach rn with family.. sighhh I hate the beach (._.) BUT I LOVE THIS REQUEST !!! LMK IF YALL WANR A PART TWO (^_-)☆

Includes: Jeff, Ej, Toby, BP and Nina :333

Warnings: None

「 ✦ Jeff ✦ 」

🔪✮ MESSY ASS ROOM and it does NOT smell all that great tbh 😭😭

🔪✮ Has zero shame about it too, you come to hang out in his room he'll just kick stuff to the side and shove stuff off the bed casually.

🔪✮ Posters all over the walls, most of them are of bands he enjoys (He stole most of them 💀)

🔪✮ Jeff has a knife collection so he has a little setup for them :3

🔪✮ ALSO!!!! Side headcanon he fucking loves MSI (The song "This Hurts" by them is literally him chat)

🔪✮ There's a window in his room by his bed that you can use to get to the roof of the manor, it's actually got a pretty damn good view too

🔪✮ Has a mini fridge in his room beside his bed that has drinks in it

🔪✮ Mostly energy drinks and Pepsi with like, a singular water that'll never get drank.

🔪✮ Probably doesn't have sheets on his bed.. the mattress is full of mysterious stains

🔪✮ Musty BEAST (I love him)

「 ✦ Eyeless Jack ✦ 」

👁️‍🗨️𖤐 Jacks room doesn't smell all that great either.. he keeps all his organs to munch on and such in there.

👁️‍🗨️𖤐 There really isn't much there tbh, just the essentials to have in a bedroom.

👁️‍🗨️𖤐 A bed, a wardrobe, chair and a desk with an old computer on it..

👁️‍🗨️𖤐 Oh and a few shelves with one big window that he usually keeps closed ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

👁️‍🗨️𖤐 His flooring is a grey-ish carpet and his walls are painted black

👁️‍🗨️𖤐 Kinda boring, ik 😭

「 ✦ Toby ✦ 」

🪓☆ Chaotically clean room, bro is a maximalist to the extreme (^o^)

🪓☆ ‼️‼️ He yearns to collect ‼️‼️

🪓☆ there's a few shelves with trinkets he's collected over the years on them (≧ω≦)

🪓☆ Posters, banners, stickers, drawings and records littered eevveryywhere on the walls and ceiling of his room (maybe this is just projecting because thats witterly my room ☝️)

🪓☆ Has the glow in the dark star stickers on his ceiling for sure

🪓☆ His room is MUCH bigger than the other proxies, has everything he needs and more

🪓☆ I mean, he has a little couch in there that has a big stuffed animal on it and a bug blanket (His hyperfixation is bugs, if you couldn't tell /silly 🪲🪲 )

🪓☆ He spends a shit ton of time in his room because it's genuinely super cool

🪓☆ Has a Tv mounted on his wall in the corner !!

🪓☆ Oh and he has a guitar in his room that he l can't play, he just thinks it looks cool o_O

「 ✦ Bloody Painter ✦ 」

🎨꩜ VERY CLEAN ROOM. AND VERY PARTICULAR ON HOW HE KEEPS THINGS.

🎨꩜ Don't mess with any of his shit without permission first and you'll be fine 🙏

🎨꩜ Has some of the normal (Ones that he doesn't use blood in, he keeps those safe.) paintings, drawings and sketches he's made on his wall behind his easel in the corner of his room :33

🎨꩜ I also think he likes to write!! So maybe some poetry is on his wall as well in that little corner ^_^

🎨꩜ Almost the entirety of his back wall is window which he loves

🎨꩜ HAS PLANTS !!!! 🌱🪴

🎨꩜ Has a nice desk to draw on with a comfortable chair. Theres a nice smelling candle on it with a few books and a lamp (●＾o＾●)

🎨꩜ Also owns the most??? Comfortable?? Blankets?? EVER????? Amazing textures, NO SHERPA <(｀^´)>

🎨꩜ Has a drawer thingy dedicated to his art supplies (Which is also very organized, btw)

🎨꩜ HE HAS A RECORD PLAYER. YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE.

「 ✦ Nina ✦ 」

🪱ᰔ SHES A SCENE GIRL!!! ROOM IS SCENE!!!

🪱ᰔ Like holy shit it's so colourful ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

🪱ᰔ LOTS and LOTS of homemade stuff stuck on her walls along with various other things, there's stuff everywhere

🪱ᰔ Now you already know she owns a gir blanket and a gir backpack, like cmon (灬ºωº灬)♡

🪱ᰔ Collection of stuffed animals !! Some on her bed and some in a hanging net in the corner above her bed

🪱ᰔ Has LED lights and there's no windows in her room

🪱ᰔ Has a nice desk with a computer on it and trinkets, her keyboard lights up rainbow ☆´∀｀☆

🪱ᰔ Her wardrobe and closet are FULL. She has like, so many cool clothes, belts and accessories

🪱ᰔ Convinced slender to let her paint her walls funky and cool !!

🪱ᰔ Soooo her walls are purple and she painted on with a smaller paint brush cheetah print all over them :3 (She's an icon and I love her dearly)

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐲

[toruro]

IF YOU WROTE ABOUT TAEHYUN I WOULD DIE HAPPILY 💘💘 if you don’t mind a nsfw request, messing around with academic rival Taehyun stuff maaaaybe 👀

answers

pairing. kang taehyun x reader

tags: smut (18+ / mdni), academic rivals au, mean dom taehyun, bratty reader, fwb (more like enemies who fuck but iykyk), angry / hate sex, implied dacryphilia, pet names (pretty)

w/c: 930+

a/n: i wrote a rly similar thing for joshua ages ago but i feel like it's so fitting for tyunnie too ... academic rivals is just right for him :3 ty to @agustdiv1ne my lov for reading this over 4 me hehe anyways thank u for requesting, i hope u enjoy!

taehyun likes answers.

taehyun likes knowing answers.

he likes simple responses, easy explanations—pretty much anything that gives him the answer, plain as it is.

so it's safe to say he's just the least bit ticked off when you somehow outscored him on the last o-chem exam, and neither the professor nor you are giving him a straight answer as to how in the world that happen.

because taehyun swears—he swears on every last star in the sky—that he had hit the nail for this one. studied hours on end, turned down every single one of yeonjun's party invites, cancelled half his plans with beomgyu—he did fuckin' everything to make sure he'd secure that number one spot, but there you were, grinning with your stupidly pretty, pristine face as you held up your paper with a bright red '100' etched into the corner.

you must've been so proud of yourself too.

taeyhun almost feels bad, looking down at you as you try to muffle sobs of pleasure with your palm as he rams into you from behind.

"how'd you do it?" he hisses, bruising grip latched onto the plush of your hips.

"d-dunno what—fuck—" you whine when he jams his cock into your warm cunt with vigor that has you lurching ageainst the desk, gripping the edges so tight your knuckles are beginning to burn white. "—dunno what you're t-talkin' about," you manage to gasp out in the short moment of recuperation taehyun gives you before dragging his hips back and shoving his length back in just as deep.

"fuckin' liar," the faux, silver haired boy grunts from behind. a strangled moan escapes your throat as he continues to drill into you, and you press your cheek against the cool wood of the desk in fruitless hopes that it will keep you sane for just a moment longer.

"t-taehy—"

"save it," he growls, and the way his voice is so gravely, so deeply animalistic has you unconsciously thrusting your ass backwards too to meet his forceful thrusts. "can't even gim'me a—" his breath hitches when he feels your sopping cunt tighten around his length. "—a straight fucking answer."

you try to shake your head but with the way your body is throttling after ever snap of his cock into your cunt, the task proves extremely difficult. "feels so-oh good," you tell him in airy breaths. "c-can't—" you can't think, is what you want to say, but you're too fucked out to even be able to form coherent words, and the thought makes you grow dizzy with heat.

taehyun moans at the sight that follows—you looking up from him as you crane your neck to face him, back arched into the hottest fuckin' view he's ever had the pleasure of seeing, tears streaming down your pretty face, staining your cute cheeks, dripping off your swollen lips and—fuck, he might as well bust it on the spot if he wasn't so damn furious.

"feels too good, huh?" taehyun scoffs. "too good to tell me how you outscored me?"

"i-i—" you choke out when he rams into you so hard the sound of skin slapping against skin rings in your ears. "—told you i dunno. it's j-just i did better," you choose to add, not realizing that those five words were probably the last things you should have said.

taehyun pulls out of you in an instant.

it happens so fast that you swear you can still sense the lingering feeling of his fat cock inside of you, all pretty curves and veins carving their shape into your hot, gummy walls.

and then it hits you.

you're painfully empty.

"sh-shit!" you whimper, scrambling against the desk with jelly legs and sore hips as you mindlessly try to do anything that'll fill you up. it nearly angers you how quickly you resort to begging. "no, no, no, no—please, no! why'd you stop?!" you cry out, turning to face him him completely now. your ass now presses into the side of the table with taehyun looming over you in front, eyes dark and jaw clenched.

your eyebrows curve into a frown, puffy bottom lip jutted out in a pout as taehyun watches you intensely as you mewl softly, pushing yourself to sit on your desk and spread you legs for him. "taehyun, i—"

"so now you wanna talk?" he scoffs, surprising you by grabbing your thighs and yanking you closer to the end of the desk so that your dripping cunt are positions right in front of his shining cock. "tell me," he mutters, sliding the thick tip between your pulsing folds but not giving you what you want the most.

"please, taehyun, please," you repeat, writhing against his hold in a dreadful attempt at slipping his cock into you.

"you gotta tell me, pretty," taehyun whispers, nudging his length against your throbbing clit so that you jerk slightly at the stimulation.

"already told you," you huff out, having half the mind to roll your eyes at him, but something tells you you know better. "dunno—guess i just—"

you shriek loudly when he sinks into you at once, balls pressed against your ass as he leans over you and pins you to the desk. "say it," taehyun dares, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear as you close your eyes and revel in the feeling of him so deep inside of you. "say it and you won't walk for a week."

you don't know what possesses you to gulp and murmur, "—guess i j-just outsmarted you—ah! taehyun!"