#bi plaid

[autism-swagger]

Non exhaustive compilation of my favorite of Daisy's many gay ass outfits. Girl who do you think you're fooling.

[mr-ladystardust]

live blogging the genny lec tonight, exit poll is looking good for labour, even better for tory haters and horrifying for reform haters. shame that green didn't get more seats, but it's not unexpected, hopefully they get more over the next couple hours

[oldfangirl81]

I have Bi Buck fabric

[callmehabie]

First time I take out of my sewing machine in years and it's to put a patch on a flannel.

[campfiretaxidriver]

Also briefly forgot the word chamois and was trying to google by searching for like. “Types of long sleeve shirts” “another word for flannel style shirts”. And it’s never been so fucking obvious to me that google fundamentally doesn’t work anymore. You search for that second one, it’s nothing but pages of fucking ads. I don’t want your stupid fucking fake ass not even made of flannel flannels. I want a similar style shirt based on the description. Google needs to be taken to “grannys big farm Vermont” because my lord this search engine is dead

[colorlessjay]

Oh my Jack, I’m obsessed with your BTTF AU.

I know it might not quite fit into your AU but I’ve been giggling to myself about the potential hilarious misunderstandings. My fav being s6 Dean attempts to put together all the little clues Cas has dropped about his husband but like comically wrong (plugged-all-the-numbers-into-the-right-formula-and-somehow-got-the-wrong-answer wrong)

Dean in the guest bedroom with sticky notes and red string: ok so he wears flannels and he has an Impala that looks suspiciously like baby and cas mentioned he had hair longer than mine and that he was a hunter and Sam and I knew him and they were friends for a while before anything romantic happened, and I’m clearly not hanging out with cas as much …

Dean (having a panic attack): son of a bitch I know who cas is married to!

Dean (mopey and despondent and slightly horrified the next day and definitely not with puffy eyes): Cas, I, I have to know, your husband, it’s not *gulp*

Cas (visibly worried he’s given too much away and s6 dean is still so repressed that the bi realization is throwing him into despair)

Dean whispering (trying not to vomit): Sam?

Cas (too stunned to hold back his reaction): *hysterical laughter* oh, no, dean! I’m not married to sam.

Dean (nearly passing out from relief): thank god!

Cas (under his breath): this is why my dean asked me to love him anyways when his past self asked an incredibly stupid question

Honestly I fucking love that so much, I think I have a way to shoe horn that into the AU

kinda like this:

It's been two days

It's been two days stuck in the future, and Dean feels frustration bubbling up in him as his brain tries to puzzle piece everything together

It doesn't help that Cas won't tell him shit

Best friend my ass!

Okay, maybe he's being a bit of an asshole saying that. Cas- This Cas has been nothing but a great host. He always has food in the fridge, he has extra clothes he lets Dean borrow, he doesn't get all up in Dean's personal space like his Castiel does

But at the same time, Cas keeps giving him these looks, like he knows something Dean doesn't

which sure, yeah, he knows a whole hell of a lotta things. It's the future. But Cas us smug about it. At least it feels like he's smug about it. It doesn't help that Cas is out of his holy tax accountant get up and dresses like a regular John. Least his taste in band shirts has improved thanks to his husband

Husband

yeah, that still causes a record scratch in Dean's brain every time he thinks about it

And he's got no problems with it! Love is love and all that. Who Cas wants to take home and put a ring on is his own business. It's not like Cas is a guy, he's an angel. A beam of holy light or whatever. So technically, he's not gay (Not that Dean would have a problem with that!). But it does make his husband some kind of monsterfucker

which is also totally fine. Cas is a catch. Good for both of them

So why doesn't Cas say who his husband is?

Is he scared Dean would judge him? Well fuck him for that! Dean's not a homophobe! And Cas is his best friend! He'd be supportive of him and his monsterfucker husband! Rainbow streamers with Cthulhu and all!

Unless Cas is more worried about Dean's reaction to who he's married to...

which is dumb. From what little Cas told him about Mr. Mystery (Cas refuses to tell him his last name), he wears a shit ton of plaid flannels, he cooks a lot with Cas, likes to read (a guess he got from the 'shared library' Cas showed him), is pretty handy around the house, has long stupid hair and loves his dog Miracle...

Holy shit

Dean was on his feet before he even knew what he was doing. He practically kicks down the guest room door and runs around the house looking for that damn Angel/half angel/not angel

He finds Cas in the backyard with Miracle, playing fetch on the wide stretch of land he owns

Cas looks all too comfortable in his loose, light washed jeans and Metallica shirt, his hair wind swept, probably from running around with Miracle while Dean took a nap.

Cas spots Dean approaching and waves at him with a smile, only to drop both as he sees Dean's determined march

Dean can't blame him. He has no idea what he looks like right not but he knows what he feels

like he's gonna explode

"Dean-" Cas starts but never gets to finish as Dean grabs the future version of his best friend by his shoulders and holds him still, grounding himself as he speaks

"Did you marry Sam?"

The question hung in the nice summer air for around two, three beats. Miracle even pausing where she sat with a stick in her mouth, her little head tilted to the side

Cas' usual stoic face breaks into surprise and Dean holds his breath

Only for Cas, Angel of the Lord, to burst out into an explosive laughter that rocks Dean's entire being

Suddenly Dean has no idea how to react, because Cas is... he's got the biggest, gummiest, most hysterical laugh he's ever seen. It completely transforms his face that Dean is questioning if he's still taking nap, and this was all just some weird dream where he thinks Cas is almost...

cute

Get it together, Winchester!

By the time Dean shakes away his shock, Cas is already on the ground, on his back, clutching his sides as he laughs into the sky like Dean just told the joke of the century

"Hey!" Dean snaps, his face feeling warm for reasons he doesn't have time to think about. "Answer the damn question!"

"No! Hahaha!" Cas says in between laughs, Miracle coming to his side to paw and bark at her owner

"Why the fuck not???"

"No I mean-" Cas takes a deep breath and wheezes, coughing into his fist as he tries to get himself together

Dean grumbles impatiently, popping a squat just to poke at Cas' arm to get him to answer

Eventually Cas' laughter does die down and Dean finds himself staring at just the biggest, smuggest grin he's ever seen on Cas

"I mean no, I did not marry Sam. And I believe he his reaction to you saying that would be much funnier than you asking me" Cas, for the love of God, giggles.

And it shouldn't be cute. Cas is an old man and he's giggling and Dean shouldn't feel... whatever the fuck it is he's feeling right now that's not frustration

But oddly enough he's not frustrated at all

he's relived

Is it because Sam's not gay or because Cas didn't go barking up his brother?

Why does that matter? It shouldn't. Stop thinking about it

"Dean" Cas starts, his laughing having died off and his smile softer as he stares up at Dean "Why do you ask?"

There's... there's a tone to Cas' question that Dean doesn't like. So, he does the one thing he's good at

He pushes himself up and shakes back into himself

"Well you weren't telling me jack, so I thought I'd throw in wild guesses and hope I predict something" A cool lie slip out but even he can tell Cas doesn't buy it

Damn it. Those eyes always seemed to see through him

Cas doesn't call him on his bullshit, but he knows. Dean knows he knows and it bothers him further

"Yes well. Perhaps if you keep guessing, the truth will come out eventually"

"yeah... eventually"

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

Anyways. Drabble done. Doot doot

[genderqueerdykes]

thank you both for this, i was literally in the process of writing a post about this as i saw these.

i came out as bisexual when i was about 19 or 20 years old, in 2011 - 2012. this was such a difficult thing because everyone around me suddenly had very pointed opinions on me. suddenly i wasn't queer anymore, i was a straight person. i asked people why and they said well bisexual people are half straight, which makes you straight, which means gay people don't want to be around you. i was told nobody likes bisexuals because they're too straight to be gay and too gay to be straight

i had a literal personal dilemma because i didn't feel like that at all. when i was realizing i was bisexual i was realizing i was attracted to all genders in a queer way. i did NOT feel like my attraction to men, women or genderqueer people was straight in any way, shape or form. i've always fit in much better in both gay and lesbian circles. those have always been my home, and my community

in the early days of my transition, when "genderqueer" wasn't even remotely heard of, i had to try to transition into being a man to be seen as trans at all. i went from being forced into lesbian spaces to being forced into gay male spaces. nobody let me pick where i was existing. i was being pushed around. i liked both lesbian and gay male spaces, but i was being told when i could and couldn't occupy the spaces. and then when it came out i was bi everyone called me a traitor and said i was a straight person

my best friend at the time came with me to pride meetings and when her mom found out about that, and that i was bi, she told my friend she couldn't come to those pride meetings anymore, and that i was turning her daughter into a lesbian. her mother would not stop calling me a lesbian all throughout my life. from early childhood, she thought me and her daughter were dating because i was butch and she was femme and we were very close. her mom carried this belief into adulthood, asking her outright if we were lovers. her brother thought we were, too, and taunted us about it.

my own mom weaponized lesbianism against me. she hated how butch i was. she hated that i "looked and acted like a lesbian". she called me a butch and a bulldyke hatefully. she told me not to dress or look certain ways or else people would assume i, and her by some proxy, were lesbians. my mom was insanely butch so i don't really know why this was being leveraged against me but either way when i became a young adult and my mom was trying to force me to learn to drive (something i am terrified of doing due to having 2 dissociative disorders), she asked what kind of car i would ideally like. i said a truck. i was standing there in a purple plaid shirt and she just sighed and went "I knew you were a lesbian." she pointed out my shirt. she was weaponizing lesbophobic and butchphobic stereotypes against me, but either way, reinforcing that i was a lesbian in one capacity or another

i got so tired of my friends harassing me for saying that if i was bi that meant i was straight and i needed to stop calling myself gay because i wasn't, and that it was an "insult" to the gay community. note that nobody gave a singular flying fuck about the bisexual community at all. i was literally bullied out of identifying as bi, because my straight cishet male friends hated it, and my lesbian identifying GF was uncomfortable with it because it made me sound too straight.

the thing is, none of these people asked what being bisexual meant to me.

i actually liked the lesbian community a lot. i really love other lesbians. i have always been attracted to lesbian and butch identifying people for as long as i could remember. i loved seeing strong butch women on TV, even if there were rude jokes. i loved the idea of being a masculine person who is sometimes a queer masculine woman. i loved the idea of being with femmes, i loved queer women and people who took femininity to the next level. i also loved seeing gay men when and wherever they existed. i always felt like i fit right in, and like i was seeing a reflection of a part of myself i needed help discovering.

i have almost always, as long as i can remember, identified as a gay man, and a lesbian, at the same time. my attraction to men, women, and people of all genders is queer no matter what gender of mine is involved. it doesn't matter. i have never felt "half gay half straight" which is why people weaponizing heterosexuality against me as a bisexual forced me to strictly identify as a gay man for almost a decade. it was painful to ignore my butch lesbian side, and to stop identifying as gay, because people would criticize how attractive i found women, and other people

if people had let me exist and explain what bisexuality means to me, they could've understood that bisexual is an inherently deeply queer attraction no matter what genders are involved, but NOBODY cares to listen to the bisexual. everyone LOVES to speak for us because we're just "straight people invading the queer community."

we've had it. bisexuals are queer. even if they DO identify as "half straight" they're STILL queer. let bisexuals define bisexuality. there is no one size fits all form of bisexuality. every single bisexual defines it differently and that's the point. it's a very complex identity with many layers that often relate to gender and presentation as well as attraction.

let bisexuals define bisexuality.

[almostempty]

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

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@ace-turned-confused

[lover-of-mine]

Okay, I'm gonna make this post because I'm annoyed. Yes, I said a fully yellow outfit means Eddie queer in that episode. Yes, this shirt is yellow. But this shirt is not fully yellow. The plaid has its own set of implications.

Even then, the yellow present in this shirt isn't the right yellow. Buck was in various shades of blue in his bi arc before reaching his blue. The first yellow we see him in is not gonna be the correct yellow.

What's the correct yellow? I don't know, but since Buck's blue matches Oliver's eyes I'm leaning towards a gold/honey color. My current bet is something between the yellow Buck is wearing during the will reveal and the color behind Eddie during the coming out scene.

Now please watch the story unfold before throwing a fit because a blog that may or may not have leaks said nothing happens for Eddie in the episode and you want him to scream at his mother and cry that he's gay and has always known and she forced him to be someone he's not while throwing Chris on his shoulder and running back to LA in the first 5 minutes of 812 or else that means queer Eddie is cancelled and Ryan is leaving the show.

[the-mpreg-guy]

Idk how to articulate this but Dean as a butch bi man who still enjoys feminine activities and whatnot is so important to me. It feels like that's not a type of character that's just. Allowed to be very often? Ever?

I think the fact that he has muscles and runs around in plaid and beat up leather jackets and has a special interest in cars and likes working with his hands and watches m/f porn enthusiastically while also starting fights on mommy blogs and likes to wear panties and hyperfixates on a “mom show” and gets flustered around men who are bigger and stronger than him is very neat and good character design. ♥️

[iwannascreameurekaa]

pjo characters favorite Chappell roan looks part 1

guess who found this stupid list again I keep forgetting I do these things. spoiler warning this is ooc and very bad. I did most of this at 3-5 am so get ready for sleep deprived writing. part 2

Leo's is 100% this look from the 2024 VMAs. You tell me he wouldn't absolutely adore the edits of her saying "not me bitch" he would actually say "zoo wee mama" unironically okay

Percy's is this from the album cover for the rise and fall of a Midwest princess photo shoot both because of how it has an intense feeling of being out a place and because it's BLUE! Also he likes the lighting of the photo

Pipers is the marching band outfit from the hot to go music video

Jason fav is the butterfly look from Coachella 2024 

Hazel is absolutely obsessed with the tiny desk concert look and I agree because OH MY GODS. Hazel loves the layering of the hair, and that there's a trash bag in Chappells hair. Her favorite part about the whole outfit is the socks but the little butterfly clip in Chappells hair is so cute to Hazel. 

Annabeths favorite is the Statue of Liberty look from the governors ball yes it might be because she's an architecture nerd but also she's a bi disaster mkay

Franks is the white swan look from Jimmy Fallon. He will scream the bridge to good luck babe even tho he's a man and he will BLAST THAT SHIT TOO. 

Grover's fav look is when she was on the comment section podcast. It's whimsical and cute and he adores it. Also he supports Chappell roan 100% on the boundaries she set bc SHE IS A PERSON BE NICE YALL ☹️ he's a Chappell defender for life 

Drews favorite is the casual mv dress (whoa sapphic drew anyone???) let's just say she had a "situationship" thing and now I wanna write angst anyways FUCKED YOU IN THE BATHROOM WHEN WE WENT TO DINNERRR

Katie loves the giver outfit. The plaid is something that Katie can't NOT love okay. The curls and whole country vibe really get her 

Lit loved the taxi dress. he recognizes cunt when he sees it and he cracks up at the green paint 

Nyssa loves the snl look but specifically with the hat the hats important okay. I think a kid of Hephaestus would really like this outfit bc of the rope things and um idk how to describe it you know what I mean tho okay 

Blitz absolutely adore the pink pony club outfit from chappells performance on snl. The seamless white dress that sparkles and looks like literal heaven is something that can't be hated by someone who loves fashion as much as blitz does. He loves the stripe of white in chappells wig and the bow on the side of her waist. Really the whole outfit is incredibly and he will not hesitate to tell you 

Georgie likes this look from either one of chappells tours or from when she opened for Olivia Rodrigo I cant remember but she loves the tassels (?) and the shininess and everything about it. This is the outfit an 8 year old would adore

Alabasters fav is this magician look from a photo shoot that I can't the remember the name of. Maybe a little cliche but shush

Ethan's favorite is this incredibly look that I have no idea what to call or where it's from. All I know is that Chappell is serving all sorts of things and Ethan agrees with me okay I'm literally Rick himself 

Shels favorite is the snl look but without the hat. She likes the waist pieces she says they look like butterflies and she really likes the slick back look of her hair and then the curls messy in the back. It's a vibe. 

Sams favorite is the look Chappell had on Sabrina carpenters Christmas special A Nonsense Christmas. There's two pics because I absolutely adore this look. She's so elegant wtf.

Lavinias favorite is the dress Chappell had on when she was invited to perform with Olivias Rodrigo at one of her concerts. It's pink it's flowery it's sparkly, what more could you ask for? 

Cecil would've tried to recreate this makeup look and he would've failed miserably. The tights really pull this outfit together. The neck ruffle, the flowers in her hair. Cecil loves everything about it.  

Calypsos favorite look is the Marie ann look with the wig because a) it absolutely eats and even this 6000 year old girl can recognize an icon and b) calypsos a sucker for the flower embroidery on the front 

Gwen would've loved this like I don't know anything about her but she feels like the kinda gal to be obsessed with marriage culture and not in a "I wanna get married and have a big beautiful wedding" way I mean a "I know every aspect of this, good and bad, and am willing to be the backbone of the failing society" way 

Rip Lou Ellen you would've loved kaleidoscope. Rick can you give Lou a book and then make her a tragic lesbian I would love that please and thank you. Also the freaking star clips in this outfit are fiahkajda. Btw this is chappells kaleidoscope outfit and yes it's lous fav and it's beautiful. 

paolos fav is the angel look. Basic? maybe. but stunning? yes

Zoes fav is this blue cowboy look. It's shiny and she likes the color blue. Also the sparkles kinda look like stars... whoa who said that whattt

Bianca's fav is this wonderful look that is glitching and the backgrounds gone my phone is about to explode I apologize. The detail on this is insane. The tassels hanging from every end, the points and curves that really give it that alternative and crazy look. Rip Bianca you wouldve loved the subway.  

Dionysus but Mr D specifically. He's a queer icon and he loves the other queer icons as well. This outfit from the guts would tour film premiere is his favorite  because of many reason. First is the red mesh the entire dress is made off. Chappells whole red aesthetic really does remind me of red wine and shit and also I'm just grasping for ways to connect this to Mr d so bear with me. Also the flowers on the dress are so freaking pretty usgajfjwhwh love those. The black boots contrast great with the rest of the outfit and I know Mr d would like that detail. Also the fact that her tits are almost out. yes Dionysus wouldve love you yes Chappell get it girl I love you

Luke's favorite is this look. I don't know where it's from but I think this reminds Luke of his mom. Maybe his mom liked animal print idk I just like this outfit

Junipers fav is this one and I also don't know where it's from. It's a simpler outfit than others but it's so adorable and juniper would love chappells aesthetic okay like juniper would be the biggest fan of California I just KNOW

and that's all I have. of course there's so many more looks and characters so if I missed anyone or a look you like feel free to request it I am bored out of my mind rn

part 2

[slavicdollie]

My bestfriends brother ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Summary: Things don't go as planned when your close friend invites you to watch the new Johnny Cage movie.

Notes: Post-mk1 story and Bi-hans betrayal never happened. AFAB reader isn't one of earthrealms champions just a cool girl Tomas started to become friends.

Content Warnings:NSFW, dub-con fingerbang, small temperature play ,female masturbation.

Chinese culture was a beautiful sight but she still loathed her father for moving here, leaving behind her old friends and memories. She struggled to learn the language and felt outcasted amongst her peers all but one, a silver haired man named Tomas the same age as her. He knew what it felt like to be different from everyone else. A friendship began to spark between the two of them sharing stories of the past and present. Tomas was a good listener and sometimes she just needed to get things off her chest.

It had taken a lot of convincing to allow her at the fire temple Kuai liang was content with her visiting considering she looked as if she had never fought in her life, she put an end to that assumption when showing off her meteor hammer skills,she had shown interest in martial arts from a young age. Both Kuai Liang and Tomas looked impressed they had never seen a warrior move so beautifully and Tomas was practically drooling.

Bi-han however was not too fond of having a stranger enter their home let alone train with her brothers whilst not being lin kuei.

"I promise I am not a threat Grandmaster I simply enjoy the company of Tomas and practicing how to use my meteor hammer in a professional sense." Tomas felt his heart race at her statement.

Bi-han only grunted a popular gesture of his," You are no lin kuei do not presume to address me as Grandmaster." As he walked away stoicly, she began to admire him his handsome face and hot physique could not go unnoticed.

She became more comfortable around Tomas even making jests about wanting to fuck his brother, "Yeah I'd totally freeze my tongue on Bi-han's flag pole" Tomas laughed awkwardly hiding how uncomfortable he was and he looked almost...hurt?

She found herself becoming more comfortable around the lin kuei trio kuai liang appreciated her fire puns but Bi-han only shot her deathly glares.

"Are you ready to have your mind blown?" Tomas asked with a stupid grin he was excited to be apart of Johnny cage's new movie even if someone else was casted he was interested on how they would portray him. "Didn't know ninjas were allowed TV's" actually Tomas and Johnny had convinced Bi-han to install one.

Tomas and Y/n sat on the soft couch sharing popcorn. Tomas was blushing due to how close her leg were to his,she was wearing a skirt but he knew not to look at it she'd probably think he was some kind pervert and never want to speak to him again. Their faces were glued to the screen until interrupted by a deep voice. "What are you two morons doing?" Tomas jumped at the sound of Bi-hans voice but Y/n just smiled and replied "Watching the movie about you guys, the guy Johnny got to play you really captures your essence" The actor had been grumpy and mascular just like Bi-han.

Bi-han let out an annoyed grunt,"I told Cage our victory is not for entertainment" although he disproved of the movie being made he still wanted to see what the fuss was all about, motioning for Tomas to move up now sitting in the middle, between his adopted brother and his friend who he found to be alluring.

Bi-han removed the popcorn from her lap and gave it to Tomas that may have been the kindest thing Bi-han had done for him yet his only intention was to get a view of Y/N's skirt. It was a black plaid skirt with a pink ribbon around the middle that was above knee length. 'Why is he staring at me' Y/n began to think while Tomas was too focused laughing at the movie. Bi-han stared at her as a predator stared at it's prey. She looked at him for a split second making eye contact only to quickly look down and play with her fingers which was a common thing for her to do when nervous.

This action only annoyed the cryomancer next to her causing him to pull her hands apart placing them on her sides. He turned to look at Tomas seeing him stuck on the screen like a kid at a candy store, Bi-han rolled his eyes and looked back to the girl next to him. He begun rubbing his rough hands on her gentle thighs. His hands were cold she shivered at his touch. He put a lock of her hair behind her ear almost as a way to reassure her everything was going to be okay.

She subconsciously started rocking her hips and he slowly started to put his hand under her skirt reaching her cotton panties. Pushing her panties to the side and entering two fingers in her slit while she parted her legs, turning to look at Tomas who was oblivious to what was going on. The ninja used his cryomancer abilities to form solid ice on his fingertips. She whimpered softly at that, quickly covering her mouth to prevent Tomas from looking over. Bi-han started moving his fingers in and out of her wet pussy. She wanted to moan and tell him to fuck her right now,who cares if Tomas was there. She was a blushing and sweating mess Bi-han wanted to make fun of her for her reaction but did not want to draw attention to it.

Thank the elder gods for the volume of the TV or else Tomas would be hearing the sound of his friend's pussy as she was getting fingerbanged by his older brother. The finger fucking went from slow and gentle to rough and fast tears started to form from the inner corners of her eyes,Bi-han noticed this and wiped them away and started going slower and she tried to keep in her moans with her hand. She was about to cum and accidentally removed her hand from her mouth,"AAAERR THAT WAS A GOOD FIGHT SCENE" she tried to play her orgasm off as a reaction to the film. Bi-han smirked and Tomas only said "I know right!" not judging her reaction. Bi-han grabbed the popcorn bowl from Tomas and giving it to the girl he just dispoiled. His fingers were still covered in her juices she opened her mouth to put the popcorn in her mouth but instead was greeted with bi-hans jizzed covered fingers shoved in her mouth she need not be told what to do and started sucking her mess from his rough fingers.

She had completely forgotten the plot of the movie she was watching and only shooting smiles at Bi-han and wondering what other parts of his body are cold. After the movie, Tomas got up and offered Y/N to stay for dinner. "You know it's pretty late I should get going home." She refused awkwardly. "Did you enjoy the movie?" Bi-han asked with an unreadable expression.Tomas was taken aback since when does Bi-han care about the opinion of others especially on irrelevant things like a movie directed by Johnny but the girl about to leave knew he was not referring to the movie,"it was nice...I've never experienced something like that before" she smiled at him. Tomas offered to walk her home but she needed to be alone and given time to think.

'Did that really just happen??The always angry dude just fingered me while he was sitting next to his brother!!???' The whole scene felt like it came out of a bad porno. When she arrived home she went to straight to bed staring at her ceiling contemplating if this was a dream or if it actually happend. 'Of course it happend Y/N' she slightly hit herself on the head. Her mind begun to wander again thinking of Bi-han how he smirked at her after her release how good his fingers felt inside of her. She put her hands inside her underwear and tried to recreate Bi-hans movements her hands weren't as cold as his but you have to work with what you've got.

The skirt:

[charlierainfordsso]

I am currently at the gym and there is a girl who LOOKS and DRESSES like Alex Cloudmill right to the orange beanie and the plaid and I am having such a goddamn bi crisis and I really want to ask her if she plays SSO but that is not normal functional gymrat behaviour HOLY SHIT

[technicolordreamstudio]

Happy Bisexual Visibility Month, everyone

[ID: a bi flag background with the text "Bisexual Month is in September to honor the return of flannel" above a flannel shirt which is giving the finger guns with both hands. The flannel is open, showing no one is wearing it, but it does have arms. the arms are lavender. The flannel itself is in a plaid pattern in purple, pink, and blue, and has a tag on the back which looks like the bi flag]

[letters-unsending]

57 - Villain has a realization. Found Family.

/////

Villain froze as stared down at his plate. The ceramic had a crack in the side and the fork he held had a bent prong.

He had been trained to parse illusion from reality. Illusions were lazy: full of repeating patterns, refashioning a single concept a hundred times. He could spot an illusion when the carpet, tea sets and napkins were all fringed with the exact same design, but there was no pattern here, only reality, uneven and skewed.

He set his fork down. Across from him, Sidekick ate with his usual gusto, and next to sidekick, Heroine busied herself with her favorite tea and scrawled a wonky character onto her napkin. She lifted the drawing toward Hero, who shrugged alongside Superhero when she asked if they recognized it.

The napkin, Villain knew, was left over from a pirate-themed birthday party Sidekick had tricked him into attending. Their plates were different colors. In the middle of the table, a burnt tear cleaved through the cloth, a mishap from Heroine’s bi-weekly game night.

Altogether, the scene was too detailed to be illusory, but Villain’s head spun and the ends of fingers turned to static all the same.

He was standing before he could think, chair squealing back as he kneed it to the side so he could clamber past Hero’s chair and duck into the hall.

The flow of chatter in the dining room turned choppy, punctuated with questions and Superhero’s answering murmurs. Close as he was, Villain should’ve been able to discern every word but the conversation devolved into white noise as he faced the portraits in the hall.

The first picture depicted Hero and Heroine, young, gap-toothed and balanced precariously on Superhero’s shoulders. Below the picture, was a crayon drawing of a dog—Heroine’s work, by the looks of it.

Villain pushed himself off the wall, passing more portraits: all joyful faces and embraces. Another drawing. A picture of the family dog. Stick figures. Finger paintings.

Villain rounded another corner and almost bumped into a shelf full of Sidekick’s elementary pottery class projects. Cursing, he tripped backwards, back into the hall, and startled as hand closed around his shoulder.

“[Vigilante].”

Superhero. Of course, it’s Superhero.

“I’m sorry. Just forgot about an assignment,” Villain blurted, twisting out of Superhero’s grip to face the man, “I’m pretty sure it’s due at 10 instead midnight because it’s that one teacher that—well, yeah that teacher, so I’ve got to go.”

Villain’s voice petered off as Superhero stared down at him. He opened his mouth, then closed it as his throat and chest gave that tell tale squeeze. Oh god. Here? He couldn’t.

No way.

“Okay,” Superhero nodded, though the soft slouch of his brow told Villain that his lie had been seen through, “could you wait a moment though? Sidekick made dessert. I can pack you a container before you go.”

Villain nodded and held his breath until Superhero sighed and walked down the hall.

He fell back into the wall and blinked back the stinging in his eyes, but his vision blurred anew as he stared at the picture Superhero had previously blocked. Villain recognized the place—the bench outside the exam center—and Hero, Heroine and Sidekick were all squeezed onto it. And behind them, stood Superhero and himself.

He looked for a pattern in the wall and found purple paisley.

Villain laughed.

He palmed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing, but choked as Superhero’s footsteps echoed down the hallway. Plastic clattered and Vigilante was tugged, coughing and spluttering, into Superhero’s arms, his cheek smushed against threadbare plaid.

Villain slackened and Superhero held him up as he caught his breath.

After a stretch of time, Superhero drew back his arms and Villain swayed, rubbing the tack away from his eyes.

Superhero pushed the plastic food container to his chest and clasped his shoulder. “You can take this and go, if you want, but you’re welcome to stay and finish dinner. I’m sure the others would appreciate you staying.”

Cradling the container, Villain glanced toward the dining room. Sidekick peeked out the doorway and Villain nearly dropped the container in favor of shielding his face, but he looked toward Superhero instead, and then toward the picture over his shoulder.

“Are you sure?”

Superhero pushed him forward.

[rems-writing]

Fuckboy Hongjoong headcanon

-> Pairing: fuckboy!Hongjoong x amab!reader

-> Trope: strangers to lovers

-> Wordcount: 2,200 words

-> Rating: nc-17

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet

I'm also tagging @acupoftaewithsomesuga because why tf not lol

-> Kim Hongjoong was not your average fuckboy. Due to the punk aesthetic he always has with his fits (i.e. plaid skirts attached to black ripped jeans, combat boots, band tees, black leather jacket, and eyeliner that makes his eyes more alluring than ever), most students assumed otherwise. His antics and high body count (do not ask 💀) molded his personality into that of the type of rockstar that does drugs and sleeps with lot of women and the occasional man. Yeah, this boy was bi. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who is always seen getting turnt at either a frat party or a spring break rager, chugging beer and slipping his tongue down any woman’s throat before taking them to bed for the night and forcing them to leave the next morning. It’s either that or he leaves. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who even has professors fall at his feet due to his charm and that infamous smirk that everyone loves

-> Well… everyone except you

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt like his word had stopped when he laid his eyes on you walking through the entrance of the college campus,

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt a strange feeling in his chest when you brushed past him with your earbuds in and a CD player tucked in your hands alongside many notebooks and a couple of textbooks.

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt strangely elated when he found out that he shared the same literature class as you despite always showing up late to that class, as well as other classes. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who fought to stay awake just to listen to your voice as you introduced yourself to the class and explained why you loved literature so much. He usually falls asleep in the times that he actually shows up to class. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who waltzed his way towards you when the professor decided to have everyone stand up and walk around so every student can get to know each other. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who was surprised when you held your hand up and bluntly told him that you knew what he was and that unless they were paired up for a project together, you want nothing to do with him due to his reputation around the college. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who usually brushes off that statement with ease if someone else said it. However, since it was you, he felt his chest tighten with pain. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who kept up his nonchalant act and shrugged with indifference as he walked away from you. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who sat back down in his seat when the icebreaker was over and the professor started lecturing. Although, he just stared at you from afar rather than paid attention to the actual lecture. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who watched you leave after you had packed everything and left the lecture hall. He was enamoured with the way you moved. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who saw you walking down the hall and called out to you to join him at his table in the campus cafe. His smirk was painted on his face as usual. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who was surprised when he saw you gape at him like he was stupid before walking away briskly. 

-> “God he’s a tough one to crack.” He muttered to himself. “Oh well!”

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who found himself at yet another party with a girl straddling him, kissing his neck and moaning at the occasional squeeze of her hips. It was his way of encouraging her to keep going. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who looked up but instead of the random girl’s face, he was looking at yours. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, whose eyes widened before shutting them tightly and opening them again so he could see the girl’s face again. 

-> “Sorry. Maybe I smoked too much.” He reassured her. Or was he trying to reassure himself? Sure, he did smoke before this, but he didn’t hit the blunt that hard to visualize someone else on top of him. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who fell back into his usual antics when he took the girl to an empty room and fucked the daylights out of her in order to distract himself. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who immediately clothed himself after he was done with her and made sure she was fast asleep before leaving the room, cursing to himself when his clunky boots hit the hardwood floor. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who exited the party that was still going on and found himself wandering outside, thinking about what exactly was happening to him. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who accidentally bumped into you, causing you to almost drop the CD player in your hands. For some reason, he’d blame himself if it ever broke. Luckily, it didn’t since your earbuds were plugged in so it just hung there instead.

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who saw you widen your eyes and clutch your CD player to your chest before turning away from him. He felt his own chest tighten again. Surely, he didn’t think he was that bad to even break things on purpose. Right?

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who helplessly watched you walk away after muttering a half-assed “Thanks” to him. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who shook his head and scolded himself for caring about your opinion on him when he really shouldn’t before walking home. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who actually found himself walking to literature class not only on time, but early at that. Professor Park was pleasantly surprised with this. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt excited when he found out that he was partnered with you for a project. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, whose excitement died down when he saw you wearily approach him and cautiously sit next to him. Your hood was over your head and you kept looking down. Why did that hurt his heart?

-> “Oh, come on. I’m not that evil! Right?” Hongjoong joked with you, only to receive a silent yet serious answer when you didn’t respond to his attempt at making the atmosphere a little lighter. 

-> “Hey. Say something.” Hongjoong urged gently but to no avail. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who decided to focus on the project by opening his textbook. 

-> “It’s fine. I’ll take care of everything. Just… do whatever you want.”

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, whose eyes widened when he heard you speak for the first time. He was happy momentarily before he realized the weight of your words. You’d basically do all the work and he’ll just present the project before getting the grade. He’d hated how you assumed that he doesn’t care about schoolwork. He also hated how you were right. Most of the time, he could give two fucks about assignments. However, since your arrival, he found himself wanting to be in your good graces. For the first time, he actually cared about someone’s opinion on him. 

-> “No. You listen to me. And you listen to me well, Y/N.” Hongjoong said sternly. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who regretted speaking like that when you flinched and looked up at him before nodding once, indicating that you were listening to him. 

-> “You’re right. I don’t normally care about assignments. However, since you have this vendetta against me, how about I prove to you that I actually care about this class?” Hongjoong explained softly yet firmly. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who stuck out his overly ringed hand to you so you could shake it and be a part of this truce that he was putting out. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt flustered for the first time in a long while when you took your hand in his and shook it. Your skin was soft. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who found himself longing for your touch after you let go. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who found himself in the library with you after class to get a head start on the project. You would do the writing while he would do the research. The both of you would occasionally switch roles so you wouldn’t tire yourselves out doing the same thing. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who would notice that you’re getting tired and told you that they can continue either later on tonight or maybe even tomorrow. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who bid you goodbye before going back to his dorm room to study some more rather than go to the next party available. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who found you at the campus cafe the next morning and gingerly approached you. 

-> “Hey. I know we have all of the next class to do more of the project, but I wanted to ask your opinion on something.” He asked shyly. Hongjoong was never shy. Ever! Yet around you, he couldn’t help but feel this way. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who hung onto every word as you explained the part that he was stuck on for the project, nodding along and jotting down side notes in the margins of his notebook. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who walked alongside you to literature class before sitting next to you. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt proud of himself for contributing to the project and was extremely happy that you were warming up to him.

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who was about to bid you goodbye when you offered to hang out with him outside of class. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who couldn’t help but tease you when you explained that you felt bad for being indifferent with him when they first met before sighing lightly and reassuring you that it’s fine. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with you as you two continue to hang out with each other every day. Yeah, that was it. Hongjoong felt love. That would explain why he felt his heart blossom at the sight of you every time he’s near you. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who, all of a sudden, hates his reputation and is racking his brain on how to change himself for the better. He even asked Professor Park for some insight!

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who was walking down the hall one day to his next class when he saw a group of girls (aka his past flings) surround you. He knew right then and there that the karma that attached itself to his reputation would bite him in the ass. And it did. Hard. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who took it upon himself to march over towards them and shove them away from you. 

-> “You’re seriously protecting him? I mean we get that you’re bi, but what’s so special about him? You do realize that he’s nothing more than a phase, right?”

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt his blood boil dangerously upon hearing their words and clenched his fist before speaking through gritted teeth. 

-> “He sees me beyond my reputation. He knows me. Inside and out. He is someone whom I would give everything up for. Because guess what? I fell in love with him. And I will not stand by and let bitches like you fill his head with lies and tell him otherwise. The moment you approached him and started harassing is the same moment where I realized that this isn’t the life for me. I don’t want my reputation. I don’t want a different person on my arm every day. I don’t want him to be scared of me. I don’t want him to push himself away from me. I want his trust. His love. So I suggest you scram before I make things worse for you.” 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt satisfied when seeing the girls run away. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who looked down at your hunched form and bent down to your height to get a better look at you. 

-> “Was that too much? I’m sorry. I know we’re just friends, but what I said is true. I’m willing to change for you.”

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who grabbed your hand and placed it against his chest, his heart beating steadily underneath your palm. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who blushed upon feeling your lips on his cheek. You had kissed him! If he was in his room, he’d probably kick his feet and giggle loudly like a schoolgirl. 

-> “Thank you… for standing up for me. And for returning my feelings.”

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who held your hand, savoring the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who gradually felt himself change overtime as his first romantic relationship was slowly progressing. Gone was the punk aesthetic (minus the many piercings on his ear and the half skirt attached to the pants. You expressed that it was a cool fashion statement and that you wanted to try it out one day). Hoodies replaced leather jackets, regular sneakers replaced combat boots (he would only wear the boots if the mood called for it), and his eyeliner was gone. In addition, anytime someone would flirt with him, he’d deadpan at them before bluntly stating that he’s taken.

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who’d roll his eyes playfully as you tease him for the harsh rejection. Deep down, you loved the loyalty he was displaying. 

-> “Oh, come on, Joongie! She was actually pretty.”

-> “Yeah, but not as pretty as you, baby boy.”

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who smirked in satisfaction as you blushed shyly and hit his shoulder playfully before laughing and holding you close to him. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who watched you fix his hair underneath the beanie he was wearing with adoration. 

-> Kim Hongjoong, who no longer identifies himself as a fuckboy ever since he has met you and would do anything to keep you by his side. Always and forever.