#they’re so ride or die I can’t

[ghostradiodylan]

Oh, me? I’m actually fine, I’m just sobbing hysterically because I’m thinking about Dylan saving Kaitlyn from the walk-in freezer again. Don’t worry about it.

[sparky-is-spiders]

Jonmelanie would communicate near exclusively in arguing and nobody would find out that they were dating for three years.

[rpfisfine]

I’m still so fucking angry abt the death grips thing I wish ppl could treat artists like human beings

[starsstillshine]

something something the sapphic rep on tv getting cancelled bc stories about lesbian/young/women are seen as disposable and are thus made to be low quality leading them to being bad, underperforming, and cancelled

[starlooove]

Duke not trusting cops and him making his debut in a movement of people who were making their own changes bc of the inaction/compliance of the police are two concepts that aren’t connected enough for me.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Sid just punching Seids in the face 😅

yeah we don’t love that 🫡 to forever quote YCDT, no ethical consumption under late-stage nhl,,, the nhlpa is a farce and needs to develop standards for head contact,,, fighting in hockey is antiquated and one of the potential methods for growing the game is to showcase individual players and remove some of the contact to allow skills to be at the forefront like in woho,,, this is a multi-faceted issue and heavily debated in hockey because of the way fighting is so ingrained into the idea of what hockey *is* (regardless of whether or not it should be) and especially with everything that’s been coming out about power dynamics and violence in/around hockey i think there’s something to be said about how the normalization of violence on the ice translates into hockey culture and outward behavior because there isn’t really foundational support coming from the league and guidelines that would delineate expectations surrounding off vs on ice actions

yet also, i a) grew up with many blood feuds and a detroit reputation for bench-clearing line brawls, which happened at the first game i ever went to, b) am a simple stupid creature easily delighted by the big skate boys dropping gloves and c) no one got injured, which does not make it okay but makes me feel like i can have a little violence, as a treat. usw usw everything is complicated there’s a million theses on it this is not the post for that, this is the post for me to show you moritz seider my beloved BODYING sidney crosby and one of my favorite mickey redmond quotes about him which is just “seider, as we’ve seen before, doesn’t care”

(source)

[cerealmonster15]

Link and normal are so besties to me I don’t care how much fans pretend they’re not + the players themselves joke that they’re not lol like djfivibjfjfvihjg normal is so attached to his friends and link is CONSTANTLY checking on normal and they’re always doing stupid things together and believing in each other and CARING and WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[inkoutsidethelines]

Thinking about how I would write an adult Scooby-Doo series, because I think it can be done.

The first thing I’d do is make the characters actually be adults.  Still young, but adults, in the mid to late 20s range.  Mystery Inc. is a private detective type business that they run together.  In this universe, the supernatural/ghosts/etc are real, but not necessarily common, so when they take on a case, the culprit might be a person disguised as a monster, or it might actually be a real ghost.  The stakes can be higher; sometimes a bad guy is legitimately trying to kill them.  Sometimes the mystery they’re trying to solve is a murder.  Sometimes they actually get hurt on their cases.

Fred: the core of Fred’s character should be that he’s incredibly kind.  Like, give a stranger the shirt off his back kind.  The “Fred can’t talk to potential clients because he might take a case for free and we need to eat” kind.  He’s an honest and good person and sometimes gets himself into trouble because he assumes other people are too.  While he’s not very good at reading people or noticing ulterior motives, he’s brilliant when it comes to mechanical or engineering type stuff, so he’s the one who keeps the mystery machine running, builds their gadgets, and of course, designs the traps.

Daphne: she comes from old money, and her parents absolutely despise her life choices, to the point where they haven’t officially disowned her, but they have basically cut her off, so she doesn’t actually have access to any family money.  Growing up wealthy has granted her a variety of skills, including speaking multiple languages, horseback riding, and fencing.  She’s very into fashion and jewelry (even if she can’t afford it anymore) and has extensive knowledge of both that can occasionally provide a vital clue in a case. And even though her parents have cut her off, Daphne still has a wide network of contacts she can ask for favors sometimes, because she’s personable, and people tend to like her.  Daphne is also very emotionally intelligent, and is usually the one who can spot when someone is lying to them.

Side note - I ship Fred and Daphne, so I think I would start them off as an established couple for this universe.  Dating, engaged, married, I don’t care.  They are stupidly in love, ride or die for each other.  There’s no will they, won’t they, no worries about cheating.  They are in a healthy, happy, loving relationship, and no one (not even Daphne’s disapproving parents) are going to mess that up for them.

Velma: she is the forensics nerd who sometimes gets super excited about the wrong thing at the wrong time (”He was mummified in seconds? That’s so cool!” “Velma!  His wife is standing right there!” “Oh.  Sorry.”).  She’s not purposely insensitive, she just gets laser focused on her work and forgets to filter herself sometimes.  She’s also the one who can get so fixated on solving whatever mystery they’re working on, she’s willing to bend or maybe break laws.  Is breaking and entering really so bad?  Not if it gets them answers.

Shaggy: he is still the comic relief, but he’s the comic relief by being the only person in the group that actually has common sense.  He manages the business’s finances, he’s the only one who knows how to cook, and the others tease him for being a coward sometimes, but Shaggy maintains that if a ghost with an axe is coming for you, running is the only sensible option.  He should also have a range of random knowledge that sounds useless, but sometimes saves the day (ex ventriloquism, origami, the history of spoons, etc).

Scooby: as this is a universe where supernatural creatures exist, Scooby is an ancient eldritch type being that took a shine to Shaggy when he was a kid, and took the form of a talking dog to befriend and hang out with him.  Aside from the talking dog bit and not aging, he never uses his powers in a way that anyone notices.  The audience is not told upfront that Scooby is an ancient eldritch being; it should slowly be hinted at throughout the series so the audience put it together, but the characters never realize it.  Scooby genuinely considers Shaggy to be his best friend, and cares about the rest of the gang too.

[tender-rosiey]

pretty babies – gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: idk about yall but I love me some drunk gojo

satoru never drinks, but when he does, ohoho, you’re in for quite the ride.

today was one of the days when he was less of a chaotic handful but more of an emotional mess who apparently can’t even remember his own wife. you sip on your drink, ignoring the drunk satoru leaning on the bar.

he slurs his words as he tries to flirt, “you’re sooo pretty, y’know that?”

you nod with a hum and give him no further reaction. in situations like these, you figured out that letting him go all out until he is tired and sleepy is the best solution. it really is like treating a baby.

thankfully, after many years of being in the presence of one gojo satoru, you’ve built up some patience.

he rests his head on the counter and he looks up at you, eyes wide and in awe, “I bet,” he hiccups and it is followed by a silly little giggle, “we’d make superrrr cute babies! like all round and chubby and we’d much on their cheeks like…mochi! yes! mochi…now I am hungry.”

a smirk makes an appearance on your face as you glance at satoru who is blabbering about building a family with you and spoiling you rotten.

a little teasing won’t harm anyone. so you quip, “you know,” and his attention is already on you, “you already gave me three super cute babies.”

his mouth is wide open in disbelief as he sits up, “no way!”

“yup! and they’re waiting at home for us.”

his eyes crinkle because of his wide grin, “really?!” he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, “you got photos?! please tell me that you do!” and he switches to a pout so quickly, it gives you whiplash.

however, you gladly pull out your phone and show him the multitude of photos you have.

ones ranging from him being in a crib to help the youngest one sleep to ones with two of the three kids ganging up on him and him desperately calling for your help. satoru goes through every single photo, head on your shoulder and cheek squished.

he is silent throughout it all and when he is done, he looks up at you, “so that means that you’re my wife?”

you nod and your fingers, naturally, find their place on his head. he feels a little shiver of satisfaction before he smiles, one lovesick and silly smile, “I really hit the jackpot.”

you laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I guess you did.”

so you take him back home where the kids are already asleep. satoru crashes on the bed right away, steady breaths filling the room. slowly, you take your place beside him and you feel his arms wrap around you.

he pulls you closer and buries his face in your hair. and you close your eyes, letting yourself be lulled to the land of dreams.

when you do wake up, you’re greeted by satoru literally on top of you and deep in sleep. you would like to let him sleep more especially since he looks so comfortable, but you’re going to suffocate at this rate. so you pat his back lightly, “satoru, honey, wake up.”

he groans and buries his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling something along the lines of ‘five more minutes’.

not budging? then fine, you decide. you take as deep of a breath as you can then call for your kids, “who will help mama?!”

it’s quiet and you can feel satoru smirking against your skin. it looks like he won, but then a bunch of footsteps are heard and it’s your turn to smirk.

your husband lifts his head to glare at you—of course, not without sporting one of his famous pouts.

the door is then slammed open and your eldest son is there, “WHO DARES HURT OUR MAMA?!”

he gasps, very dramatically like a certain someone, and points at his dad, “PAPA?! you’re suffocating mama!”

“again?!” your daughter pops up from behind her brother, staring at her dad in disbelief.

they both stand beside your bed glaring at him and he glares back, the three of them forgetting why you called for your kids in the first place. so you do them a favor and remind them, “satoru…I AM GOING TO DIE LIKE THIS!”

satoru is pulled  back by his shirt and your kids take turns in—trying—to beat him up. you get up, greedily breathing air till you’re satisfied. you ignore the screams of your husband until you’re done with your morning routine.

luckily enough, when you got out of the bathroom, you found no one except your husband.

laying on the ground.

presumably dead.

with a bunch of drawings on his face and his hair contained with multiple hair bands.

you snap a picture of him very quickly then you sit on the ground next to his corpse. you poke his butt and he groans, making you giggle, “what happened to the strongest sorcerer?”

he turns towards you with a small frown, “his pretty wife didn’t kiss him good morning so he had no energy to fight,” his head snaps towards the two tiny figures giggling behind the door, “these monsters.”

they squeal and run away once again before he catches them.

you gently take the hair bands off, “you’re lucky that our youngest devil is still asleep,” you then smooth down his hair and pat his head, “I love the smiley faces on your cheeks.”

he whines and rests his head on your shoulder, “stop bullying me!”

you hum and stroke his hair, “you know, you did something pretty cute yesterday.”

“I am always cute; what’re you talking about?”

“you flirted with me, your wife, and said we would make ‘super cute!’ babies,” you reveal and satoru seems unbothered. in fact, he seems proud and very happy with himself so you continue, “so I had to remind you of our three little devils and then I showed you pictures.”

he stands up, posing all confidently, “what can I say? I excel at everything even being cute—“

“then you cried like a little baby when I showed you my picture post labor and kept apologizing.”

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[atlabeth]

take my breath away

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you help spencer train for his fitness exam. he kind of just wants to kiss you.

a/n: some fluff (and something short) after i broke my own heart (and my brain) in my last hotch fic! i’m truly in my criminal minds era. enjoy

wc: 1.3k

warning(s): reader is a runner so im sorry to my unathletic friends. but this is all fluff

“Spence,” you said, unable to bite back your smile, “how are you this bad at running?” 

“I’m—” he held up a finger as he caught his breath and shook his head. “I’m not bad at running. My form… is perfect.” 

“We barely made it a mile in,” you said, and you chuckled as he keeled over, his hands on his knees. “It can’t be that perfect.” 

“It is,” he insisted, on the edge of wheezing. “I’m just unathletic.” 

“You never did sports as a kid?” 

“I graduated high school at twelve,” Spencer breathed. “I was too busy studying. Reading. Doing anything other than sports.” He looked at you and shook his head. “And I’m not crazy like you.” 

Your smile only grew. “You should put your hands over your head. It helps get more air in.” 

“That’s actually a rumor.” He shook his head again. “When you raise your arms, muscles that contribute… to the bucket handle movement of your ribs—” He heaved a sigh, his brows furrowing, and again, you held back a smile. You were sure this was one of his only weaknesses. “—they’re not able to function properly.” 

“Alright, genius,” you said, mockingly but with love. “Recover however you like. You clearly need it.” 

Spencer pouted as he straightened up, his whole face contorted in discomfort. When your boyfriend asked you to help him train for his upcoming fitness test, you didn’t think much of it—you got a full ride through college because of track, and you keep healthy with morning runs, so you were happy to help. 

You’d thought about straight up offering a myriad of times—mostly after bearing witness to his attempts at running in the field. One time, the two of you were paired up to do some interviews, and it ended in a chase. By the time Spencer caught up, nearly dying on the sidewalk, you already had the unsub subdued and cuffed. 

(It took him a while to live that down with Morgan.)

Spencer was gifted at other things, sure—not just everyone is a classified genius with an eidetic memory, and he’s the youngest recruit in history—and you loved him more than anything. But you couldn’t not make fun of him, just a little bit. 

His face was still red, his glasses fogging up a bit from the humidity, and his hair was a mess, so you moved closer in order to brush the stray strands out of his face. 

“Running isn’t my thing,” he said. “Well— fitness isn’t my thing. I’ve got everything else covered.” 

“Oh yeah?” You started smoothing back the strands of his hair, and you offered a crooked smile. “Then why are we out here trying to improve your mile time?” 

“Because it would be nice if Gideon doesn’t have to get all my fitness stuff waived again, and if I want that, I need the help.” His eyes didn’t leave yours, and once you finished, your hands lingered on his cheeks. You nudged his glasses back up to their spot. “And I think I’d run a marathon and die trying if it meant I got to spend more time with you.” 

Your eyebrows rose. “If you want to run a marathon, I could probably get you there. It would take a lot of time together, though.” 

“Please, no,” Spencer breathed. “Just the time together part.” 

You grinned, and you patted him on the cheek before you pulled away. “Running is good for the soul. Why do you think I’m so happy all the time?” 

“Well, this morning you said you were happy because of me,” he said. “Yesterday, it was because we had our first case-free weekend in two months. The other day—” 

“That coffee I had?” you interrupted. 

He nodded. “How’d you know?” 

“Because you made it for me,” you said, “and I love it when you do that.” 

Spencer shrugged. “You do it all the time for me. It’s only fair.” 

“But that’s proof,” you said. “Running does make you happy.” 

“Running does release endorphins, but anyone who likes it is crazy,” he repeated. 

“That doesn’t sound scientifically backed.” 

“The way I feel right now beats science,” Spencer huffed. “And you’re not happy all the time. You frowned 23 times while writing up your last report.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “You were watching me? And counting?” 

He shrugged. “You’re nice to watch.” 

“Very smooth, Dr. Reid,” you said cloyingly. “But flattery won’t get you out of this.” 

“I’m not trying to get out of anything!” he defended. You stared at him, and he held up his hands. “Okay— only halfway. But you are nice to watch. That’s why I’m still here.”

“If you’re watching me while we run, that might be why you’re doing so badly,” you said, amused. 

“No—I think it’s the only thing keeping me going.”

“You don’t really look like you’re still going,” you said wryly. “You should be good at this. You’ve got long legs.” 

Spencer shook his head as he screwed his eyes shut. He let out one last breathy sigh, and you hoped he’d finally recovered. “Also largely a rumor. It’s more about leg strength compared to bodyweight—long legs help with lengthy strides, but you need to generate enough torque to move faster than with shorter legs.” 

You smiled. “You’ve still got facts? Even while you’re dying?” 

“Mostly because Elle’s said it before too. She says I look like a baby giraffe learning how to walk when I run.” Spencer shook his head again. “I think the only thing my height is good for is getting things off of shelves.” 

For once, you tried to reign in your joking. “Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t want this whole thing to be miserable for you. Running should be fun.” 

“We can stop doing this?” he suggested. “I can let go of what’s left of my pride, get all my fitness stuff waived again, and go back to figuring out cases in an air conditioned conference room?” 

You smiled, and you moved closer. “How about this?” 

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you pulled him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt, effectively cutting him off. He hesitated for less than a split second, but his hands fell to your waist as he brought you in closer. 

When you let go and moved away, he still had them there, and he was smiling like an idiot. 

“Does that help?” you asked innocently, tilting your head. 

“Yeah,” Spencer said, nodding rapidly. “Uh— yeah. I actually think I could go for another mile now.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh as you ruffled his hair, messing up your earlier work. “I’d love to test that, pretty boy, but I don’t think you can make it another mile.” 

Spencer shook his head. “If you keep kissing me like that, I think I can make it through that marathon you mentioned.”  

“Sure I don’t take your breath away too badly?” you teased. 

“I have some facts for that, but I don’t think they apply.” His lips curved up, and the redness from exertion mixed with his steadily rising blush. “Because you, uh— you did take my breath away the first time I saw you.” 

“I should start calling you loverboy with material like that,” you mused. “Morgan’s annoyed that I took pretty boy from him.” 

Spencer grimaced. “Just thinking of Morgan seeing me like this makes me want to get back at it. I can’t deal with any more of his teasing.” 

“But my teasing’s okay?” 

He frowned. “Of course. It— it’s kind of why I fell for you.” 

“Ah,” you nodded. “That’s why you’re still at this. You don’t like things being handed to you.” 

His cheeks darkened again, and you laughed as you leaned in to peck him on the lips one more time. 

“Alright, loverboy,” you said. “Ready to get back at it?” 

“No,” he said affirmatively. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?” 

“Not if you want to pass,” you said wryly, and you gestured back at the trail with your head. “But you know what they say—one step at a time.” 

Spencer grumbled, and he shook his arms out again. “Fine. As long as those steps are with you.” 

You smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 

[envy-of-the-apple]

Earth Kills Moon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word count: 6.3k

Part two of Sun Eats Moon

Synopsis: A retelling of Sun Eats Moon in Suguru's perspective

(Warnings: forced relationships, bullying, non con touching, non con kissing)

Suguru liked you. 

It wasn't even a crush. A passing interest, maybe. You were pretty. You had a nice smile. Though, he'd never directly spoken to you, he could tell that you were kind. Not in the artificial cherry most people were. Natural, like honey, never spoiling. You share the same homeroom as Satoru, and he'd always tended to be observant, unlike his friend. One thing he liked about you was how observant you were. You were constantly looking out for your friends, mere acquaintances, and everyone in your vicinity. Often, Suguru wondered if being a people-pleaser was natural or from a fear of not fitting in. 

Suguru is observant. He notices the lingering gaze Satoru gives you when you walk away, hurrying to catch up with the rest of your friends. Satoru then turns back to the carton of chocolate milk you'd left him.

"Cute," Satoru says after a minute. It's more of an afterthought than anything. He pops the carton open. Suguru hears the fabric tear. He hums in agreement. The topic switches to something else, a hot celebrity maybe? Suguru can't remember. That day had been so insignificant to him. It hadn’t mattered to him for Suguru to remember anything further.

A few days later, Suguru noticed Satoru was spending a lot more time with you. 

It was hard not to notice, actually. His friend attached himself to you like he'd die if he couldn’t. Satoru went everywhere with you now. Suguru caught him walking you from school, offering you rides in his new car, following you to the lunch hall. And if he couldn’t go to where you were, he’d drag you back to him. Watching you and Satoru was a bit like watching two magnets. North pole and South pole. So different, yet constantly finding the other. 

“Tryna’ run away from me, now?” Satoru asks, a teasing lilt in his voice as he watches you fiddle with your bag.

You laugh, continuing to fish out your lunch box. “Just grabbing lunch.” 

“Eat with us,” Satoru insists, “we found a great spot up at the rooftop.” 

You meet Suguru’s gaze just then. He’d been silently lounging on a nearby desk, observing the two of you. He gives a smile. You return it. Polite. He wonders if your mother taught you to smile like that.

“I thought students weren’t allowed up there?” You ask Satoru. 

The boy rolls his eyes. “So, who cares? It’ll be fun.” 

You pause, right then. The tiniest of hesitation. Suguru wonders if you’re noticing just how different you and Satoru were. You, the people pleaser, meek, always more than willing to bend towards authority. Satoru was rougher, more resilient, uncaring of signs and rules. The gap between the two of you is astronomical. Could you feel it as well?

Whatever you’re thinking, it’s gone in a moment. You rise, giving Satoru another laugh. To Suguru, it sounds pretty. 

“Well, have fun for me. Besides, I can’t ditch my friends. They’re waiting for me.” 

With that, you give both him and Satoru a tiny wave, before disappearing out of the classroom. Suguru waves back. Satoru doesn’t. Instead, he keeps his eyes on your back until he can’t see you anymore. 

“Got ditched again, hm?” Suguru teases. Satoru only groans, tossing his head back as he leans dangerously on the chair.

“Always leavin’ me for ‘em, too,” he complains, “so fuckin’ annoyin’.”

Suguru can only smile, getting up to follow his friend out the door. He can barely count how many times he’d seen this before, each with a different person. It starts the same. Satoru will cling onto you for a couple more days, and then ask you out. When you say yes, he’d date you for a few weeks before eventually getting bored and dumping you. 

It’s a cruel cycle, something that’s just an inevitability with Gojo Satoru. The boy can’t stay in one place, he’s constantly moving around, never one to stop. For Satoru, Suguru was the most permanent thing in his life. Which made sense, they were pretty similar in terms of ideals. 

A cruel cycle, and Suguru feels a tiny bit of sympathy for you. You were sweet, unlike the type Satoru typically went for. Honey. Natural. Truthfully, Suguru was a little disappointed as well. The type of disappointment he’d feel when someone took the last crab stick before he could. A fleeting feeling, one that ultimately wouldn’t matter. 

◉

From the day they first met, Suguru knew one thing: Gojo Satoru has never been told no before. 

It made sense. He was the only child to one of the most powerful families in the country. Spoiled from day one, some could say. Satoru grew up knowing nothing but wealth and prosperity. They met when they were both still in elementary school, still with high-pitched voices and large eyes. Suguru’s family was fairly affluent as well. Now that Suguru thinks back, perhaps their meeting had been orchestrated by meddling parents in order to form more connected. It didn’t matter, either way. It had benefitted all three parties, after all.

Yes, Suguru knew from the moment Satoru pointed at him and declared him his ‘best friend’, that Satoru had never been told no before. 

Satoru was the Sun. The universe revolved around him, catered to him. Suguru supposed he wasn't much better considering he too spoiled his best friend in that sense. They were different. They'd been born different, coming from families who cherish them with wealth and power. Suguru supposes it was natural for them to be so intertwined. Like calls for like. 

Suguru isn’t aware of the exact details, but he knows you rejected Satoru. 

The boy doesn’t have to tell him. His friend is uncharacteristically quiet during that weekend. He has no interest in the arcade, or the next basketball tournament his team is going to compete in. Satoru just sits on top of Suguru’s bed, casually sucking on a carton of chocolate milk. Suguru glanced down at the abandoned PlayStation remote. He’d lost yet another game against his dark-haired friend with no complaints. Satoru didn’t even play

You’d really done a number on him, Suguru thinks to himself. Suguru would assume it’s heartbreak, but he knows his friend better than that. Something burns in his chest, but he’s pushing it away before he can figure out why. Nipping it in the bud. It was a cruel thought. A bad one. He should ignore it.

Well, it’s done. It doesn’t matter anyway. Satoru would eventually get over it. He’s not known to sulk. 

He’s not there to see what Satoru tells them, but he’s there to see the effects. 

It starts out small. Or perhaps just not noticeable enough. Gojo Satoru has always attracted attention, whether it was satisfactory or not. Lackeys, Satoru often calls them because they're too far beneath him to even be called equals.

Suguru notices their sudden interest in you before even you can. A harsh word here and there. Giggling at the word 'easy'. You peacefully trek on, not noticing the abuse until it turns physical. That starts at the end of Monday. 

By Tuesday, they're already shoving you down each chance they get. You get surprised when it happens the first time, then the second, then the third. You have soft skin, plushy, Suguru could tell. He wondered if it was getting marked now. He wonders if you go home, peeling of your uniform, staring at the bruises of hands on your skin because you’re so fragile.

(They never go too far, not enough to completely injure. Suguru knows this because one time, one of the idiots had pushed you too hard. You’d stumbled, nearly hitting the back of your head with a metal locker. Satoru had seen. Suguru doesn’t know what Satoru did, but that particular one was gone the next time and the rest got the memo to scare, not injure.)

Satoru never takes part in this, but he keeps an eye on you sometimes. Tuesday evening comes and they both silently watch you through a window. You move through an empty hall, before they arrive again, slapping your binders out of your hands, chortling with each other. They're too far away to hear, but Suguru could bet it would sound like nails scraping against a chalkboard. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Suguru watches his best friend. Satoru looks impassive, face blank as he stares down at your figure. Akin to a child watching ants burning through a magnifying glass, instilled with that innate desire to see them explode into ash. 

When the lackeys leave, you bend down on the floor, collecting your stuff. Your hair covers your eyes, so he can't see your expression, but he can see your shoulders tremble. Were you-

A corral of people run to you. They lean down, picking up the stuff you had missed. You look up, your eyes are shiny but you're laughing when they say something. You wipe at your eyes, standing up as they lead you out of the hallway. Suguru had seen them hanging out with you before. They all seemed like they supported each other, supported you. 

Suguru feels his frown deepen, conflicted. He doesn’t like it.

"It's not nice to pick on the weak, Satoru," he quietly says. 

Satoru's eyes trail your figure out the door. He gives a small hum.

By Wednesday, your friends disappear from your side. 

The abuse is getting worse, noticeable to the point where the rest of the student body is heavily avoiding you. Teachers won't raise a finger at what's happening. As much as they like to preach about their 'zero tolerance for bullying', Suguru knows they'll willingly turn a blind eye when matters involve Gojo Satoru. No teacher wants to deal with the wrath the Gojo family is more than willing to unlease for the sake of their heir.

Yet, you aren't getting it. You don't break, don't bend. He can feel the humiliation roll off of you in waves, yet you don't react. Which was strange because he knew your archetype. A people-pleaser, constantly bending over backward for other's sake. You want nothing more than to become part of the crowd again, completely invisible. You’re community-oriented. You thrive off of companionship. This ostracization must be killing you. Suguru doesn't get it until he spots your face, just once, narrowed eyes, anger. 

Pride. He'd forgotten other people had that too. Though, Suguru admires it, a part of him knows it shouldn’t last.

Suguru thinks he does it because he pities you. You're a little naive. Suguru has your thought process figured out. You think if you take the torment long enough, Satoru would eventually just forget about you all together. Once he's done with you, you'd focus on picking up the pieces that used to be your life. It's not a bad plan, if you weren't dealing with Gojo Satoru. 

The boy is a hurricane. Fast, unrelenting, unforgiving. Satoru won't stop. He won't stop until you're ruined and broken. Turned into a mere asteroid of what you once were. 

So, Suguru decides to give you a push in the right direction. 

The students have already created a wide circle for you by the time he steps in, bending down, picking up the stuff you had dropped. You're silent until he hands you his pieces. He doesn't bother responding to your timid thanks. 

"Give in," he tells you, watching the way your eyes widen as you look up at him.

You're weak. Physically, emotionally. He could easily pick you up with one hand, crush your body with his fist. Satoru could eviscerate your body from existence. You don't stand a chance with him. With either of them. 

His advice to you is good. Reasonable. And yet, he sees the face you make, the way you slowly get up. You won’t listen. That same burning feeling in his chest starts. It's gotten more painful. 

You don't listen to him until you lose nearly everything. Just as he warned you. Friday comes. You become Satoru's. And it's a little too late for everything. 

◉

Suguru doesn't think you ever learn that Satoru loves messing with you. 

Or, perhaps you do, but you can't help it. You're too honest, too open. He often wonders if that's how you were raised. To be honest, open, vulnerable. Your parents must have filled your thoughts with delusions, coddling you with words of cheap motivation. The world is your oyster. You just had to reach out and take it.

Maybe now you're finally realizing, sitting on Satoru's lap, that all men aren't created equal. 

Clearly, you weren't happy about it. Yet, you aren't complaining, sitting there pliantly legs firmly crossed, hands curled into tiny fists, staring rigidly on the floor. The first few times Satoru had done this in public, you were always biting your lip, tears threatening to fall. Now, Suguru thinks you just dissociate, coming back when Satoru laughs at something, jostling you in his arms. 

It's a bit like watching a helpless bird on the ground, twitching and spasming after it had just collided with a glass window. Pitiful, but there was nothing that could be done. It's the inevitability of it all that makes him pity you more than anything else, really.

Every so often, your eyes would catch his. It's a quick glance, as though you were wondering if he was watching. He can barely catch it, but Suguru is observant. Much like you. It's meaningless, and your gaze returns to the floor. Your fists tighten. 

Granting you mercy, Suguru stops looking at you during those times. 

He's not sure how Satoru sees you. Perhaps, you're akin to a dog for him. Though, that might not be very good for you. Satoru hadn't been very good with animals when he was younger. Satoru had always been rough with any pets he came into contact with, pushing and tugging. Suguru doubted that had changed. 

Satoru's is your official title. It isn't a relationship. It's an ownership. Unequal from the start. The one who holds the leash in the end, will always be Satoru. 

It took a while for you to fully learn that. 

Suguru didn't mean to catch the two of you. Looking back, it was probably because Satoru couldn't care less if someone was watching. Maybe Satoru was being obvious on purpose. It was a little while after school had officially ended. Suguru knew your usual routine would place you right at the library, scrolling through books. Satoru would most likely be there too, pestering you about this and that. It's the scene Suguru prepares himself to walk into.

Instead, you're wedged in between the white-haired boy and the wall, there's no space for you to do anything but sink. You're already crying (when was the last time you smiled?), trying to pull away but Satoru isn't letting you. He's gripping you by the chin, forcing eye contact. His sunglasses are off, tucked on his collar. 

Suguru's close enough to hear. You're begging. Apology after apology. It's barely a whisper, but they're spilling out of you like a prayer. He can't discern the context, but he knows enough. 

You made Satoru angry. 

He's still smiling, but it isn't sincere. Almost bordering on mania as he tightens his grip on you, forcing you further into the wall. Suguru doesn't think Satoru has ever hit you before, but now he's wondering if quick violence was preferable to this. 

"Don't be like that," Satoru chides as another squeak leaves your lips, "Where was that smile you were givin' him, hm? C'mon, pretty girl. You were wearin' it just a second ago." 

"It-it wasn't like that, I swear," you continue to plead, still not realizing that it's too late, "he was giving me his notes. Please-please Satoru-" 

"Wrong answer," he cuts you off, you flinch at his harshness but Suguru decides Satoru's being nice to you. He's been known to do worse, "we've been over this before, haven't we? Or did your stupid brain forget?" 

You're choking down another hiccup. It takes a minute for you to calm down enough to speak clearly. Ever impatient, Satoru's hand digs into your shoulder. 

"I'm sorry, Satoru," you say, "it won't happen again." 

He tilts his head, waiting. You wilt under his gaze. 

"I'm sorry...’Toru." 

Satoru gives a satisfied hum, pulling back and Suguru can practically see your lungs sag with relief. His mania is gone, replaced by something much more lighthearted and carefree. Suguru'd seen it before, but it was certainly something watching Satoru go from one high to the next. Even to Suguru, it's terrifying to witness. 

Suguru decides to make himself known right then. He comes out of the shadows, acting as though he'd just arrived. His friend lazily gives him a wave, curling an arm around your waist. You try to scrub away your tears with your forearms, unaware of how much Suguru had seen. Another mercy Suguru grants you. He doesn't acknowledge it. 

The three of you sit in the library for half an hour until you're done pretending that you're studying. When Satoru walks you home, Suguru follows. He notes that you barely hesitate to give Satoru a chaste kiss on the lips, and he wonders how often his friend has demanded one from you for you to be so casual about it. 

He thinks he gets it when he and Satoru are walking on the street without you. To Satoru, you aren't a dog. You aren't a pet, something that he keeps to see bark.

No, you are just Satoru's. 

◉

Towards the end of the year, Suguru realizes that Satoru loves you. 

He's nicer to you, now. Suguru doesn't think you've realized how softer Satoru's gotten, but the change is there. He spots less marks on you now. The biggest evidence he has is that stolen moment of you and Satoru. You'd accidentally fallen asleep during lunch break, dozing off on your desk. Satoru was right next to you, gently pushing your hair out of your face. Satoru loves you. 

You've changed too. Adapted, he should say. You cry less, now. Each time he sees you, you look more and more put together. As though, you're done mourning. The final stage of grief. Acceptance.

Despite how much nicer Satoru is to you, he's still just as clingy. Suguru notices that even now, none of your former friends speak to you. No one at school does. It's an unspoken rule to not mess with Satoru's things. 

Suguru can still remember the last guy who hadn't gotten the memo. A new student. Freshly transferred. Suguru had heard the conversation. The guy was hardly interested in you. It was nothing more than small talk. The pat on your shoulder had been thoughtless at least, friendly at most. 

Satoru beat him until the boy was bloody and had a broken nose. A week later, he'd transferred again. 

You're off limits. To everyone but Suguru. 

The Earth is the only planet capable of sustaining life within this cold solar system. It's close enough to the sun to feel the warmth, yet far enough so it doesn't burn. It's strong, too. A powerful magnetic forcefield, capable of shutting down the sun's cosmic radiation. Thus, the Earth spins happily around the Sun, surrounded by a sea of dead planets. 

So, sometimes when Satoru can't walk you home. Suguru does. 

It was just the beginning of spring. The school year was starting to end. The school itself was starting to slow down. Teachers were getting less and less strict, less work was given out. It didn't matter. Colleges had already been picked. They were all close to the end. 

You don't say much when the two of you are alone. Suguru understands. It's hard to say much of anything when you're crushed by the weight of Gojo Satoru. But Suguru could have sworn he'd seen a flicker of relief when he came to pick you up and not his friend. You're clearly happier when it's him. Suguru decides he likes how that feels. It's a quick feeling of superiority. Something that quickly disappears when your eyes flick down. 

He knows where your house is, but he lets you take the lead anyway. Suguru figures it's the least he can do, give you that sense of control when nothing you do ever really does anymore. 

You and him have forged a shaky companionship. He's not sure what he is to you entirely, but you seem reliant on him in some way. it’s his fault, he thinks. He wonders if it has to do with the contraception he'd given you. He can still remember the trembling hands as you took it from him, curling the packet into your grip. That day he went home and his fingers felt strangely itchy. 

Does the Earth ever wonder if it can turn the Sun?

When he asks you a question, you answer. At least you aren't mute, though Suguru doesn't think he'd blame you if you ignored him. Your voice is stilted, with enough words to answer the question, but still not enough to fully sate him. 

And then, you break. 

Just a bit. 

A tiny piece of you shatters, and you show yourself to him. 

He'd been talking about something insignificant, college, his plans. Just ramblings. Somehow, Satoru comes into the conversation and he's talking about the area of his friend's college campus, how Satoru mentioned that he's looking for apartments for the two of you to stay in. And then, you're uncharacteristically scoffing. 

"Right," you say, head faced down on the sidewalk as you kick a rock, "because I'm following him there." 

Suguru can't help but place the sarcasm in your voice. The bitterness. He's heard it before, but it's a fascinating thing hearing it come from you. And then Suguru realizes that you accidentally gave something away. 

You were leaving. 

Somehow, it never crossed Suguru's mind that you were still rebelling, even now. And yet, he can't shake off the heat in your voice, your words. 

You seem to realize this too, freezing. 

He lets you falter for a few more moments before giving you a reprieve. 

"Satoru's idealistic like that," he let out. 

Your shoulders lower, and for the sake of both you and him, he doesn't press any further. 

He doesn't let himself let it go, even when he drops you home, arriving to his own house. Always cold. The mansion's lights are always off. No one's ever home. And Satoru's out of town. 

It's better this way, Suguru thinks as he lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling. No distractions, he can think better, as he replays your words over and over again. You were leaving. You were leaving. You were leaving Satoru. 

The night passes. When Satoru comes back to town, he's joyful as always, an arm slung around your shoulders. Suguru watches the way he coos at you, saying how much he missed you. You take his affections the way you always do, with a strained smile and wavering eyes. 

You glance at Suguru. Suguru stares right back. 

For a moment, Suguru thinks he understands why people are so enthralled with solar eclipses. The moon is seen as an underdog in most instances. It must be thrilling when a weak satellite can cover the sun's rays. Even for just a little bit. 

Suguru doesn't tell Satoru. He pushes the burning in his chest, ignoring the itchiness in his fingers. Things are better this way, right? After all, the two of you come from completely different worlds. It's nonsensical to think otherwise. 

Two weeks before graduation, you disappear without a trace. 

And Satoru breaks. 

It's a slow dissent. It comes in stages. The boy is angry at first, searching for you at school, when he can't find you there he loses his facade and demands where you are from your parents. They can't give him a clear answer because you're an adult now and you barely told them a thing before moving out. Suguru doesn’t think they knew what Satoru was to you. He doesn’t think they ever will.

The heat fades day by day, Week by week. Satoru starts to deflate the longer you aren't in his hold, his to mangle, and grab, and keep. He stops taking care of himself. His skin became paler, cracked lips, hollow cheeks. His eyes turn into this grayish blue that Suguru can't bring himself to look at for too long. He loses weight day by day. 

Suguru had never seen him react this way before. Satoru was always shining. He was the sun. Now, the center of the solar system was dying. He can feel himself dying with it. 

Satoru hadn't just loved you. Satoru had been obsessed with you. He breathed you in, inhaled your essence like oxygen. You'd been a part of him; a necessity. And then, you tore yourself away, leaving him bleeding on the concrete.

Guilt. Suguru feels it in his stomach, rising to his throat, threatening to stain his clothes. It's too late to say anything now, so he keeps it huddled deep inside of him. Suguru hopes it'll never come out. He helps the best he can, being there for his friend, his best friend. 

It takes a month for Satoru to start eating properly again. A few months later he starts regaining his usual physique. The gray in his eyes stays for a bit longer than Suguru likes. Suguru supposes he should take what he can get.

A year passes like that. The evidence of what you left behind fades, like bruises disappearing on skin. Suguru and Satoru become college students. Then, they graduate.

When Satoru joins the business, Suguru, his right-hand man, his second, his best friend, is right next to him. They’ve always worked well together, but that doesn’t change as they shift into adulthood. Despite how different Suguru and Satoru were, Suguru liked to think that their personalities were stagnant; unchanging even to the times.

What Satoru feels about you remains stagnant as well.

Suguru doesn’t think about you often, these days. Barely a few times a year, when he feels nostalgic enough to get out his old high school yearbook. He’d page through, spot your smiling portrait face. He’d find himself staring at you far longer than he liked too.

At first, Suguru thought Satoru was the same. Much like how one thinks about a lost toy they cherished when they were younger. The resentment would fade with time. Satoru didn’t speak about you for years.

Suguru hadn’t expected the girls, however.

He doesn’t notice the first one. He sees her, but he doesn’t internalize it. She’s hurriedly putting on her clothes after a clearly exciting night, so Suguru respectfully averts his gaze. He’s more focused on his exasperation at how Satoru had missed yet another meeting with the board. They would be less than pleased if they discovered Satoru didn’t show up because he was hungover.

The second time it happens, Suguru has a passing thought of how familiar the girl looked, despite being sure he’d never seen her in his life.

The third time it happens, Suguru realizes all the recent girls Satoru’s been bringing strike an uncanny resemblance towards you.

It’s not anything too obvious, but all of them would look a bit like you. Most would have your skin tone, your hair. One had your eyes, not the color, rather the shape of it. Satoru had kept her around the longest.

Suguru doesn’t say anything about it. Part of him wonders if Satoru is even doing it on purpose.

Suguru loves Satoru like he would his own brother, but his recent hobby was starting to get on his nerves a bit.

“So much work,” the man complains, “Why can’t we just send all this off to Ijichi?”

“He has his own work to complete,” Suguru reprimands, “the sooner you stop complaining, the sooner we can finish.”

Satoru rolls his eyes but moves to another page of meaningless paperwork; Something that would be scanned into their system and then tucked away into a random file cabinet. They currently sat in Satoru’s grand kitchen, lounging on the barstools after Suguru had pounded Satoru’s door in. Satoru had let him in with an irritated look, complaining that it was the weekend and he had ‘stuff’ to do.

“He’s my assistant,” Satoru retorts, “my work is his work.”

“The reason why we’re in this mess in the first place is because you kept pawning off your job to the poor man in the first place. You’ve given him wrinkles from just the stress of being in your vicinity.”

“That’s insulting,” Satoru counters, “my presence is nothing but calming.”

“You do the exact opposite, actually. A black hole that sucks the soul out of everyone who hangs around you.”

“You hang around me all the time and you don’t have wrinkles.”

Suguru smiles. “It’s because I don’t respect you enough to listen to anything you’re saying.”

Satoru’s about to respond, when another voice interrupts him. Alluring, feminine.

“Satoru,” she coos, “When are you getting back here?”

From his seat, Suguru has a clear view of Satoru’s bedroom. Only her head is peeked out, and Suguru notes her bare shoulders. Your eyes, and your lips this time. She’s tilting her head, mouth curved in a coy smile.

Of course. Suguru can only roll his eyes. There’s that same burning feeling in his chest. During the years, it hasn’t really gotten any better.

“Coming, coming,” Satoru calls back, “just a minute, babe.”

“Stuff to do, hm?” Suguru drawls with amusement. Satoru flips him off.

"Worry 'bout yourself," Satoru says, "when's the last time you got any, huh? Honestly, when's the last time you've taken a break? A vacation?"

"I can't," Suguru replies, "I'm always stuck babysitting you."

“I’ve been waiting for half an hour, ‘Toru." The woman interrupts. "Can’t you just do it later?”

Suguru hadn’t even noticed it. He brushed it off, barely hearing their conversation as he shuffled around the papers.

Satoru had.

He hums. Straightening his back.

“Yeah, I’ve changed my mind. You should head on home.”

At first, he thought Satoru was talking to him. Then, he hears the woman’s annoyed huff.

“Hold on, you’re kicking me out?” She asks.

“Yeah, sorry,” Satoru says, not sounding very apologetic, “I got a lotta’ stuff to do and you’re not gonna wanna stick around.”

His tone is light, but Suguru can’t help but place a sense of annoyance in them. The anger. His posture is stiff, almost like he’s primed for a fight.

‘Toru. She called him ‘Toru.

You used to call him ‘Toru.

“Seriously, I-”

“I hate repeating myself: Get the fuck out.”

There’s silence, and then Suguru can hear her mutter to herself as she shuffles inside the room. She comes out minutes later, not quite dressed, but presentable. She shoots Satoru a glare, to which he only waves off. The door shuts with a noticable thud.

“Back to work,” Satoru says, “do you feel hot? The AC has been acting up, lately.”

He carries on like that, back to normal, as though he wasn’t about to snap just a few minutes ago. Suguru follows suit, not aknowledging the outburst, much like he doesn’t aknowledge most things regarding you.

Later, Suguru laughs about the hypocrisy of it all. Satoru brings home physical reminders of you, but he refuses the remnants of you. The most intimate parts, he’d kept hidden away from his life, yet he still wishes to touch, to feel. He wonders how you’d feel if you knew that Gojo Satoru is wrapped around your finger, even now.

◉

Satoru had done something yet again. It's always something with Gojo Satoru. Suguru should have left him to deal with the legal team himself, but here he was, trailing beside the firm’s directors as the man droned on and on how well Mr.Gojo would be well taken care of how here our clients are family. He forces himself to push away that feeling in his chest, scorching his throat. He was getting sick of the constant blabbering. He’d glanced away for just a second.

And then he saw you.

You, not some remnant, not some picture, not someone similar. You. He knew it was you. A little older, a little taller. You’d switched the high school uniform for a blouse and a pencil skirt. Suguru stares. He’s tempted to say your name, seek you out, as though you’re old friends-

He reels himself back in.

You disappear through a frosted glass door, completely unaware of his gawking. You hadn’t seen him. Good. The firm’s director didn’t notice his pause, carrying on as though nothing happened. Suguru smiles and laughs at the horrible ice breakers, but he also steals a glance at the name of the door you went through.

Later, Suguru looks up Higuruma Hiromi. A well-established lawyer. Worked at the firm for nearly a decade.

You are his sole paralegal.

Law. He had never considered it for you. Now, he thinks it’s a little fitting. He can’t help it. He looks you up. You have no social media, most likely from a remnant fear, but he finds where you went to college, what your area of study was, where else you’d worked, your life. Questions he’d had for nearly a decade he finally has an answer.

Honestly, Suguru was a little mad it was all so easy.

He can’t see the entire scope of your life, but he knows you were happy after high school, away from Satoru. You seemed happy when he caught that glimpse of you. There was a slight smile on your face, you never did that with Satoru around.

Satoru’s a little pathetic, a thought he has to concede to. He’s still hung over you, while you clearly hadn’t thought of him in years.

Suguru stares at your picture a little more.

The burning feeling comes back again. Hotter, melting.

Oh.

Suguru is disgusted by you.

You, that bitch loitering in Satoru’s bedroom, that greedy firm director. Disgust, that sick feeling crawling down his stomach, seeping into his bones. He’s disgusted by the weak.

He’s even more disgusted when they think they can defeat the strong. Decieve them.

You always thought you were better than Satoru, better than Suguru, even from the beginning. Even when you rejected him. Even when Satoru’s goons were torturing you, you still thought you could get out of it somehow. Even when Satoru had his hand on your shoulder, claws sinking into your flesh, you were still looking for a way out. It was like watching a rat trapped in a cage, pathetically sniffing around for an exit.

The weak could never escape the whims of the strong. It was a truth of the world, something he’d always known and yet it’d take a decade for him to put the words together. The weak could never make a fool of the strong.

You are weak. A mere satellite floating along, before getting trapped in the Earth’s gravitational force. Suguru could crush you with one fist. Satoru could evisirate you to atoms.

Does the Earth ever wonder if it can turn the Sun?

“I’ve put together a legal team that will represent you.”

Suguru places the neat stack of documents onto Satoru’s desk. The white-haired man barely gives them a glance. Suguru knows Satoru won’t ever look at them, even when your name is hidden somewhere within the sheets, along with Higuruma’s. Suguru wonders how long it’d take for Satoru to figure it out. It’s a shame he won’t be there to see it unfold in real-time, but perhaps, once Satoru puts the pieces together, he’ll thank him.

Here, in the present, Satoru types away at his computer, barely paying attention to Suguru’s words.

“Oh, great,” Satoru says off handedly, “thanks, man.”

Suguru sighs.

“Uh, I love you?” Satoru tries again.

“Never repeat those words to me ever again,” Suguru responds, “I wish you’d be a bit more interested in this, considering it’s your fault the company is in this mess in the first place.”

Satoru gives a hushed hum of agreement. Suguru smiles.

“In other news: I won’t be here next week.”

That catches his best friend’s attention. Satoru gapes at him.

“You’re quitting?”

“No, idiot. I’m taking your advice. I’m taking a few weeks off. I already put it in the calendar that you never check so why did I even bother.”

“A vacation? You never take vacations, even when I beg you to,” Satoru squints at him, “What’s the occasion?”

Eventually, Satoru will figure it out. For now, Suguru wants to enjoy this.

“I worked hard this year. I should reward myself, shouldn’t I?” He reasons, “oh, and I have a surprise for you showing up in a week or so. Let me know what you think of it.”

“A gift? For me?” Satoru beams. “You really do love me.”

“Don’t push it.”

The Earth is the only planet capable of sustaining life within this cold solar system. It's close enough to the sun to feel the warmth, yet far enough so it doesn't burn. It's strong, too. A powerful magnetic forcefield, capable of shutting down the sun's cosmic radiation. Thus, the Earth spins happily around the Sun, surrounded by a sea of dead planets. 

If Satoru was the Sun, then Suguru supposed he would be the Earth. Close enough to receive the star's radiance, but with a strong enough magnetitic field to shield from solar winds. 

If Suguru was the Earth, then Suguru supposed you would be the Moon. A tiny cratered satellite he tugs along with him, forever in sight of the burning sun. 

[scientia-rex]

I feel like disappointment in Biden is baffling to me because he was always a disappointment. He was the asshole who got to ride to power on the coattails of a better man. He told bizarre and repeated lies (despite getting caught at it and his team telling him not to) about having a Welsh coal miner dad when he did not and he stole that story from actual Welsh people. I read a profile of him years back that pointed this out and told the story of the time he straight up ignored good advice from an expert not to plant a certain kind of tree too close together and flew a bunch of them out to plant, at night because he was just too fucking excited about it, and they all died. He’s not a smart man! He’s charismatic ish and lacks principles and as far as I can tell doesn’t really care about abortion rights or a lot of things we’d consider pretty critical to preserving freedom. I sincerely thought he couldn’t become President because there were so many obviously better candidates in the pool. I underestimated the sexism and antisemitism in American politics, and when he became the candidate in 2020 I gritted my teeth and voted for him because the alternative was a man who is not only an idiot but also profoundly dangerous. Trump is not ha-ha crazy, he’s Mussolini crazy. He is not dangerous because he’s stupid, although that doesn’t help; he’s dangerous because he does not care about anyone except himself under any circumstances and if that means he lets the far right push us straight into forced birth for white women and sterilization for women of color he’s going to do that. If that means conversion therapy for queers and death penalty for homosexual acts he’s going to do that. He has literally no limits. If he gets back into power, a whole lot of people are going to die, again. It’s not a hypothetical because it happened the first time and he’s only going to get worse.

I am not, never have been, and never will be a fan of Biden. To pretend that he and Trump are in any way equivalent is wrong at best and another goddamn Russian psy-op at worst. To pretend that a third party candidacy is viable in the US is to completely ignore every election of your lifetime and your parents’ lifetimes, and to further ignore the lesson of Ross Perot.

You cannot save Palestinians by not voting for Biden in November; the best you can do is chip away at his margin, and the worst you can do is see Trump elected so he can decide to do the worst possible thing in ever circumstance. Biden has Palestinian blood on his hands and watching this when we could have had Bernie or Elizabeth Warren instead is maddening. (I would have preferred Hillary to Trump, but I don’t think she’d be any different than Biden here. They’re both old-school politicians.)

I hate everything about this, and I hate that saying “maybe don’t put the man who literally said he would kill his political enemies in power” is seen as supporting genocide. It’s acknowledging reality. Joe Biden as a person can eat rocks for all I care. I was kind of hoping he’d die sooner in his term so we’d have time to get used to and then vote for President Harris. (Remember when the line was “she’s a cop, don’t vote for her”? Funny how there’s always a reason not to vote for a woman or a person of color or someone you just “don’t like” and can’t put a finger on why except she “seems angry.” Oh does she. How would she not? When Michelle fucking Obama, the picture of grace , STILL got called angry for having the nerve to be a Black woman with an opinion? When Hillary Clinton lost to a man with no political experience to her decades and who openly discussed sexually assaulting women? Would you have voted for President Harris? Or would you let Trump win again because you don’t LIKE her personally and she’s made decisions and statements you disagree with?)

Biden has both less power than his critics give him credit for and more power than his fans give him credit for. He needs to do more to pressure Israel and although it’s a delicate diplomatic situation I’d rather see us fuck up our diplomatic relationship with Israel than watch more Palestinians get murdered for things like “wanting to eat” and “existing.” The line has been crossed, and he doesn’t see it. Because he wasn’t the best person for the job. Because they didn’t get elected, because of sexism/antisemitism/racism. Hell, I have no idea what bootlicker Pete Buttegieg would have done here, but I’d have given him a try. But no. We got Biden and we’re stuck with this reality where you can be as leftist as you want and still have to look at the situation and decide whether you’re comfortable contributing to a Trump victory through inaction. I want socialism—I want every single person on Earth to have clean drinking water, enough safe food, shelter, medical care, and education—and I’m going to vote for Biden, pissy as it makes me, because the only actual alternative is so, so much worse, for me personally as both a woman and a queer, and for everyone in America and the rest of the world who Trump would find reasons to hurt. What do you think the man who openly and repeatedly praises dictators is going to do when those dictators massacre their own people? Yes, we need to care about this genocide now. We also need to care about all of the other people who are at real risk, both at home and abroad. Would a Trump government agree to fund military intervention in Haiti without insisting on it being a colonial exercise in power? Would a Trump government roll back the restrictions on discriminating against transgender patients in healthcare? How would Trump respond if Orban started dragging people into the streets and shooting them en masse? How would Trump respond if China finally went for it and invaded Taiwan? There are more lives at stake here than mine or yours or even those of the Palestinians, who have deserved better for literally decades and are being mass killed in ways that should result in immediate sanctions, a war crimes trial, and the execution of Netanyahu.

The world deserves better from you than complicity in a Trump victory.

[cupidlovesastro]

astrology observations #4

❥people with a lot of air and water can be very spiritual and have a soft heart when it comes to humanity and children

❥moon in 11th house people can automatically make you feel so close to them even if you guys have known each other for a week. you can feel like besties or like you can trust them easily.

❥sagittarius stelliums can be so loud when voicing their opinions or things they enjoy. they can be pretty loud in general, and they love joking. i also noticed even when they’re being serious, people will laugh at what they’re saying because they’re known for being the funny friend 😭

❥if you ever wanna know what someone’s rising sign is, but you can’t tell by how they look, listen to what they say, what they care about, and what they do or enjoy doing. i noticed that a lot of your personality is filtered through your rising and when you start listening to the things they say, or notice the things they do it’ll start to add up. for example, i know a taurus rising, he talks about how much he loves his children a lot, he enjoys cooking and eating, he buys a lotttt of things, and he has 3 college degrees but loves his lazy days where he lays in bed all day watching thriller movies😭

❥leo in ceres will ride or die for their children. they will defend them no matter what and have the hugest heart in the world for their children

❥chiron in 12th house can have a conflicting and hard time with spirituality. wether it be believing in it, scared of it, or worried that your not good enough for a higher entity. you could also have been forced into religion

❥capricorn, taurus, libra, aries, and leo in juno, definitely love princess treatment from their soulmate 🫶🏽

❥the most hardworking people i know have taurus,sag, capricorn, and aqua in their chart

❥people with fire mercury in 1st house can be giggly and smiley when talking to them, or when they’re talking

❥having virgo in big 6 in your composite chart can indicate you and your partner care about being hygienic around one another. if it’s in venus, mars, or moon, it might be held at a even more higher standard. it could also mean that you both care about keeping your space clean if you live together

❥mercury positively aspecting venus can mean people feel attracted to you just by your voice and you could be good at flirting or smooth talking 😭

[aestheticpearl]

— ‘you’ve got to press it on you.’

characters. dewdrop, rain, swiss, mountain, phantom

themes. SMUT

[warnings] smut, blood, biting, dacryphilia, size kink, corruption kink, light choking, mirror sex, spanking

[gender neutral reader]

ghoulettes

a/n: they’re ghouls, read at your own risk

➳ dewdrop

he def fucks with a PASSION

very accommodating

if you want to go slow, he’ll go slow

if you want it rough, he’ll be rough

he can be whatever you’d like, praise or degradation

‘oh yeah, that’s it baby— fuck you really know how to move, where’d you learn that hm? you fucking the other ghouls?’

POWER BOTTOM

i said what i said

dew loves to watch you ride him

and he loves to hold your hips to guide your movements

it’s definitely his favorite position

he doesn’t mind topping tho

this ghoul will mark you up until your neck is painted in your own blood

he’ll lick it up cause he love how sweet you taste

“such a pretty thing covered in your own blood and my cum, fuck you turn me on.”

you lay breathlessly on top of the ghoul as he pets your head. you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, your mind fuzzy and fucked out.

“few more rounds yeah?” dewdrop states moving so he’s now on top of you.

he slips himself back inside you with little effort, using his own cum that’s on you as a lubricant.

you groan into your pillow at the stretch of him. no matter how many times you do it, it still burns in the best way possible.

“that’s it, you’re so good at taking my dick.” he says before leaning over to bite your shoulder.

➳ rain

he doesn’t fuck

he makes love

and he’s so good at it

gives the BEST head

he would stay between your legs for hours if you’d let him

shower sex

y’all are always fuckin in the shower or in some kind of water

oddly enough he’s not a fan of bath sex

the water splashes on the floor and you almost slipped because of it one time

shamelessly loud moans

he breathes heavily after he cums that’s so hot holy fuck

he’ll definitely thank you while cumming

‘thankyouthankyouthankyou— hgnnn i love you so much’

loves to make out with you while he’s inside you

he’s def cried after sex cause it felt so good but don’t tell anyone that

your lips are starting to go numb because of the heavy make out session between the both of you. it almost distracts you from the slow but skilled rolling of his hips into yours. almost.

“you feel so good around me, satan i love you so much.” rain says before moving back into the kiss and pinning you more up against the shower wall.

the water pours down both of your bodies and something about it just absolutely does it for rain.

“you look so amazing like this, soaking wet while i drill my cock into you.” he moans.

➳ swiss

kinky bastard

degradation king

but like his aftercare is amazing so it’s fine

corruption kink

fav position is doggy

loves shoving your face into a pillow while he plows you from behind

also likes to lean down and yank you up so he can hold your neck

has marked you everywhere

needs to let everyone know you’re his

‘you’re mine, don’t forget that’

almost bit a major artery in your leg

ALMOST

there was a lot of blood but it’s okay cause you didn’t die and it only turned him on more

he will try any angle that feels good

he MAKES you flexible

this bitch definitely growls

LOVES to make you watch how he disappears inside you

def has a mirror next to his bed

“look at how good i fuck you.” swiss grips your face and makes you turn to look at yourself in the mirror next to him bed. “look at how well your slutty hole takes me ahh fucking whore for my cock.”

you let out a pathetic whimper that makes swiss chuckle as he pushes your head back into the mattress.

“keep your eyes on me.” he whispers in your ear as he holds the back of your neck. he plants a swift smack on your ass before rubbing his hand over it gently to soothe the sting.

“good play thing.”

➳ mountain

he knows his size

he also knows how to use it

OH LORD

he is so gentle tho

a little scared he’ll hurt you

he also can’t degrade you

he tried and HE ended up crying

loves how he towers over your body

can and will man handle you which means he will fuck you everywhere he can

the wall, the bathroom, the practice room

everywhere

loves the thrill of getting caught

‘shhh baby you don’t want us to get caught do you?’

he loves when you’re vocal, since he kinda just grunts and groans

mountain lifts your leg gently for better access and you can’t help but moan loudly before his hand covers your mouth and he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“so loud, i’m starting to think you want someone to catch us pretty thing.”

your eyes squeeze shut as your body is hit with another wave of pleasure as you feel mountain’s free hand take yours to guide it down your chest and stop at your abdomen before pressing down.

“i’m right here, you feel that?”

➳ phantom

i love phantom i do but he’s younger and doesn’t have as much as experience as the other ghouls

that being said

he focuses a little too much on himself but

HE WHIMPERS

‘ah fuck’

he loves holding you close to him while thrusting into you

doesn’t pull out all the way, he kind of just jerks into you really fast

lil jackhammer

he learns how to make you feel good from your guidance

likes when you communicate how you feel during sex

he likes seeing you cry but only because it feels good

he doesn’t like hurting you

bites you but not hard enough to draw blood

he likes praising you

very possessive

phantom places gentle kisses over the fresh indent of his teeth on your neck while holding onto you for dear life.

“such a good little thing for me nghh so tight, all mine.”

you’ll admit he was going a little too fast for it to feel good on you end, that was until you adjusted your hips and he started hitting a certain spot that had your legs shaking.

phantom takes notice of this almost immediately.

“i hit your sweet spot didn’t i?”

“p-phantom i need to you slow down and keep that angle.” your eyes are practically rolling back into your head at this point as he listens to your instructions.

“fuck you’re squeezing me so tight.”

please reblog to show support ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

feral i’ve gone feral you guys

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist

[wonusite]

Favorite

❝ When Professor Jeon realizes his most earnest student is no longer paying him the attention he craves, he goes to great lengths to make sure he’s the only one holding her attention. ❞

pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem reader

genre: teacher au, cam girl au, college au, smut

word count: 9.3k

warnings: illicit relationship, imbalance of power, age gap (reader is in her 20s and wonwoo is in his 30s), sex work, drinking, lots of pining, jealousy, misunderstandings, professor!wonwoo, student!reader, cam girl!reader, masturbation (f and m), oral sex (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, office sex, car sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation, pussy drunk!wonwoo

a/n: this has been in the works for way too long and i’m so happy with how it came out. hugest shoutout to the nonny who sent in the ask that started it all. minors dni!!

You think you might actually die.

If you didn’t spontaneously combust from how embarrassed you felt, then you were going to go find a cliff to throw yourself off of. You can’t remember the last time you fucked up this badly, and it doesn’t help that it’s all your friends can talk (and laugh) about as you’re having dinner.

“Maybe he didn’t open it.” Vernon tries to reason.

“Yeah, right.” Soonyoung snorts. “He probably already clicked on the link and is jerking off to her videos right now.”

Chan’s laugh is one of the most endearing sounds you’ve ever heard, but right now it just sounds annoying. You’re glad you ordered an alcoholic drink with your meal because otherwise you wouldn’t be able have this conversation. When your friend sees your sour pout, he quickly changes his tune.

“You’re worrying for nothing. I’m sure once he saw what the site was, he clicked off.” Chan says as he not-so-subtly scoots his chair away from you. “He’s like the most respectful guy ever.”

“Chan’s right.” Vernon is quick to agree. “Professor Jeon isn’t the type to cross those boundaries with a student. You said you sent him an email saying it was a mistake, right? He’s a nice guy, so—”

“How fucking naive can you two be?” Soonyoung cut in with an incredulous look on his face. “I know his type. Those quiet guys are the biggest freaks behind closed doors. He’s definitely the type to fuck a student. I’ll put money on that shit.”

Chan pauses to mull over Soonyoung’s words while Vernon can only offer him an exasperated glare. The two boys know better than anyone how you feel about your professor, and they also know that the older man was the only person in the history of the universe to treat you coldly. This was definitely the worst situation you could ever find yourself in, but Soonyoung was too oblivious to see that fact.

Being the sweetheart that he is, Vernon is quick to change the topic. “Seokmin just texted me. He said everyone is on their way to Jihoon’s place. Let’s get the check.”

For a moment, it seems like your inner turmoil will be forgotten. Sure, you do have class early in the morning, but right now you were going to focus on having a good time at Jihoon’s party. And Vernon was probably right. Professor Jeon was the sweetest, most respectful man you had ever crossed paths with. He probably deleted the email after realizing what it was. And even if he hadn’t, this moment would eventually pass.

After all, no one ever actually died from embarrassment.

Everything was fine until the four of you are about to leave the restaurant and Soonyoung lets out a sound that resembles a chicken being strangled. His eyes are bugged out as he comically gestures across the dimly lit place. Your heart twists uncomfortably when you finally see what has him acting like a fool.

“I told you so.”

Those four words are the ones you hate the most in the world, especially when they’re coming from Kwon Soonyoung. You love him, you really do, but his lack of perception is fucking maddening sometimes. It’s especially infuriating in situations like the one you were in now.

“No fucking way.” Chan whispers with his mouth dropped open. “That’s—”

“Just because they’re having dinner together doesn’t mean they’re fucking.” Vernon reasons, obviously trying to spare what was left of your feelings.

“Who cares?” You manage to say without letting your voice tremble with the heartbreak that was currently seeping into your bones. “Let’s get out of here before they see us.”

Soonyoung only scoffs, not able to believe that your nosy ass doesn’t seem to care about the juicy scandal the four of you had stumbled upon. Vernon starts to push him out the door while you and Chan hurriedly follow behind them. Luckily, you manage to make it out of the restaurant without catching the attention of your English professor and his TA.

Normally, you would’ve loved to be a witness to any potential gossip, but this was different because you just so happened to be the tiniest bit in love with your professor. The more rational part of you knows that it doesn’t really mean anything that Professor Jeon was having dinner with his TA, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting a little bit (a lot).

No one ever died from embarrassment, but apparently dying from a broken heart was real.

“This is actually a good thing for you, Y/N.” Soonyoung says once you’re all in Chan’s car and driving to Jihoon’s party.

You grit your teeth and manage to answer him in a somewhat calm voice. “What are you talking about?”

“If Professor Jeon says anything about the link you accidentally sent him, you can tell him that you know he’s fucking his TA.”

It actually wouldn’t be a bad idea if even talking about the very possibility that those two were having an illicit affair didn’t feel like someone had punched you in the stomach. But instead of letting any of them see how much it actually hurt, you only offered what you hoped was a convincing laugh.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

You look out the window as the conversation takes a different turn, not noticing the looks Vernon keeps giving you all the way to Jihoon's apartment. He doesn’t say anything because you keep speaking and laughing like everything is fine. He should’ve recognized your calm and aloof behavior as a sign that you were on the verge of spiraling, but he didn’t.

Even as you unbutton two more buttons of your pretty blouse and hike up your skirt when you enter the party, he doesn’t say anything. It’s easy for him to assume that you want to hit on some of Jihoon’s producer friends for fun as you often did after getting a little tipsy.

It’s not until he sees you drinking like the world is running out of alcohol that he feels the need to intervene. Vernon quickly walks over to you, eyeing you with blatant concern. You don’t even acknowledge him as he goes to stand beside you.

“Maybe you should slow down.”

You ignored your friend’s concerned voice and downed another shot. In the back of your mind, you know he’s right, but the need to forget about your hurt feelings and humiliation was far greater than reason. Besides, you can hardly taste the alcohol anymore which makes it easier to drink to your heart’s content.

“This is a party, Vernon.” You remind him. “I’m only trying to have a good time. I deserve to, don’t you think?"

Of course he thought you were in desperate need of a fun night out. In fact, he’s the one who convinced you to come since it had been a hot minute since you left your apartment for something that didn’t involve working or school.

But Vernon can see that the way you’re drinking is only an after effect of what you saw at the restaurant, and if you kept this up you were going to black out like you did at Junhui’s party freshman year. Because he didn’t want to relive that night, he makes sure to bring you plenty of water and keep you within his sight. If he couldn’t stop you, he was going to make sure you were taken care of.

Maybe you’re acting childish, but you don’t really care at this point. All you can focus on is the pain that’s tightly gripping your heart. The alcohol helps a bit, but you still don’t manage to forget the events leading up to your irresponsible drinking.

You could get over your little slip up, and even the fact that Professor Jeon was potentially fucking his TA. But what really hurt is that your English professor seemed to display this great disposition to everyone in the world except you. Sure, you should’ve been grateful that he probably didn’t open the link you sent him because he was having dinner with TA, but your fucked up mind and heart couldn’t care about that for some reason.

It’s not fair, you can’t help but think.

You were down bad, but it wasn’t your fault. Every time your English professor smiles, you feel like your heart is going to implode. The way his kind eyes always form into crescents as the softest smile ever graces his face is possibly the most attractive thing you’ve ever seen.

What’s not fair is the fact that Professor Jeon has never directed his pretty smile at you. Not even once.

It’s not like he’s never had the opportunity to do so. You purposely arrive early to his class in order to sit at the very front, and not to mention that you’re very vocal during discussions and always answer his questions. But all he’s ever offered you is a fleeting glance and a nod of acknowledgement while the entire English department gets that stupidly endearing smile of his.

Chan always tells you how thirsty you look during class, and when you make the argument that he wouldn’t know since he always sits all the way in the back, he actually laughed at you.

You lean forward so much that it looks like you’re about to fall out of your seat, he’d said.

After you catch yourself doing exactly that during one of Professor Jeon’s more riveting lectures, you wanted the earth to open up and swallow you whole. If Lee fucking Chan—one of the most oblivious people you had ever met—had noticed your massive crush, then you were 100% sure your professor had as well.

Just thinking about it made you cringe and down another shot. The burning feeling made you come to a decision. If your professor didn’t care for you, then so be it. Tonight was the last night you would feel heartbroken over him. You were going to shove him out of your heart and mind if it was the last thing you did.

Wonwoo can’t describe the feeling in his chest when his class is ten minutes away from starting, and you’re not already in your usual seat. He tries to brush it off because maybe you’re just running late. After almost an entire semester of always being early, it was only logical that you would be late at least once. Things happened, and he was sure you would show up soon.

At least, that’s what he thinks until it’s actually time to start the class and you’re still no where to be seen. It bothers him and it shows. Bad.

The class is probably the worst he’s had since he first became a professor, but that was the least of his concerns. All he can focus on is the uncomfortable feeling twisting in his gut as he thought about the possibilities of why you didn’t show up to class. Wonwoo doesn’t want to believe that you’re too embarrassed to show up because of the link you accidentally sent him.

You had sent him an email containing the correct link and profusely apologizing about thirty seconds later, and after he saw the name of the website he could see how the mistake was made. Unfortunately for you, the two websites were very similar in name.

If you really were avoiding coming to class because of that, he wishes you would give him a chance to tell you that he wasn’t uncomfortable or angry. But Wonwoo doesn’t get the opportunity to speak to you as soon as he hopes because almost an entire week goes by until he sees you again. He sees you on the way to his office and calls out your name before he realizes what he’s doing.

The way you’re expression drops into a cold discomfort makes him falter a bit. Where was that bright smile you always directed at him? It only makes Wonwoo certain that you were still mortified over what happened.

“I didn’t see you in class on Tuesday.” Wonwoo says after you awkwardly greet him. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just... personal stuff.”

The air is painfully awkward, and Wonwoo can’t stand the abrupt shift in your behavior. He needs to let you know that what happened shouldn’t make you feel uneasy around him because he understands that it was a mistake. However, he doesn’t react fast enough to do so.

“Professor.” You say hesitantly, nervously biting at your bottom lip. “Did you click on the link I accidentally sent you?”

You’re looking at him so shyly and nervously that he becomes powerless immediately. Wonwoo wants to make you feel more comfortable, but he also is unable to lie to you. “I did.” He says honestly. “But once I realized you sent the wrong website, I clicked off.”

Wonwoo can tell his honestly doesn’t make you feel any better. Just as he goes to comfort you, your attitude suddenly shifts.

“I’m really sorry. I swear it won’t happen again.” The apology sounds sincere, yet it’s missing the usual warmth your voice held whenever you spoke to him. “I have to go. I’ll see you in class.”

Wonwoo’s heart sinks when you run off without even giving him a chance to say goodbye. Maybe this is his own fault for taking your once sweet attitude toward him for granted. He never thought a day would come where you would actively avoid him.

A sudden determination to have things go back to the way they were overcomes him. Unfortunately, things got worse before they got better.

When he sees you again, you’re not early. You aren’t late either, but it’s odd to see that you don’t seem to care to be early anymore. And you don’t sit right at the front either. No, this time you sit all the way in the back between two boys—Lee Chan and Xu Minghao. This somewhat bothers him, but he can’t really be upset. After all, you were allowed to sit wherever you wanted.

It’s not until he sees you giggling and talking with those boys—particularly Minghao—during his lecture that he really gets agitated. He carries on as normally as he can, but this sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach is expanding up into his chest keeps distracting him. Deep down, Wonwoo knows this feeling is nothing more than petty jealousy.

Your new behavior carries on for weeks, and it makes Wonwoo feel like he’s losing his mind.

Finally, he decides he can’t keep his frustrations pent up inside and does something he knows he shouldn’t. When he gets home, he immediately goes to his room and gets on his computer. He opens the browser and is quick to click on the only site that’s on his favorites. Wonwoo quickly logs in, the action of typing his username and password is muscle memory at this point.

His eyes don’t mind the videos on the homepage, he only focuses on going to his subscriptions and clicks on the only profile he has under his favorites. Wonwoo let’s out a laugh. It’s quiet and slightly bitter. It’s funny how worried you were about him clicking on the link when he had been watching your streams since before you became his student.

Wonwoo feels a sense of sour accomplishment. He’s gone almost an entire week without watching any of your videos, but that was all in vain. As he scrolls down, he notices that you’ve done two streams since he last watched you. Just as he was deciding which one he was going to watch, he got a notification.

brattydoll sent you a message!

It’s pretty certain that Wonwoo flinched so hard it can be seen from space. He can’t believe what he’s seeing, and it almost feels wrong that this is happening to him. But he shoves all those thoughts aside and quickly clicks on the notification.

brattydoll: hi! you were the top tipper for the stream i did last week. as usual, you are eligible for a private stream. let me know what time and day best works for you xoxo

It takes him less than a minute to type a response to let you know he’s ready now. He waits in anticipation for your message, really hoping you say you’re ready too.

His dick starts to get hard when you tell him you’ll be ready in ten minutes while also explaining the boundaries you have while doing these private streams. He doesn’t really need a reminder since he’s won a private stream from you a couple of times before. Honestly, all he can really focus on is how he’ll get to have you all for himself. He quickly strips down to his underwear before he settling into his chair.

Wonwoo feels his cock twitch when you pop up on his screen. You have a sweet, seductive smile on your face as you gaze at your screen. It’s not like the one he was used to, but at least he can pretend you’re directing it at him like you know who he actually is. He’s fully hard by the time he notices that you’re wearing the lingerie set he sent you recently. You look absolutely divine in it. His very own temptation. Licking his lips, Wonwoo starts typing into the chat.

you look beautiful, baby. how have you been?

“How have I been?” You tilt your head innocently. “Horny. But what else is new?”

Fuck. This is exactly why he could never look you in the eyes for too long when he saw you in person. Wonwoo was always afraid you would be able to tell how much he wanted you if he looked at you too long. He was never good at hiding his feelings, after all.

“Do you like how your gift looks on me?” Your sultry voice asks, and Wonwoo feels his heart pound when your smile becomes affectionate.

i fucking love it. i knew it would be perfect for you.

Your tantalizing grin makes Wonwoo wish he was there with you. God, how he would ruin you.

“Before I start, I have one question.” You say as you lick your lips. “Are you not gonna let me see your pretty little cock?”

Wonwoo lets out a deep breath because he can literally feel his cock throb in need. He quickly angles his webcam so you can only see his torso before he turns on the camera. Your wolffish grin has precum oozing from his bulbous tip, and he thinks vaguely that he would fuck that complacent smirk right off your face if ever given the opportunity.

“Thought you were getting shy on me, baby.” You say as your hands start to trail up your body.

never.

You giggle sweetly, and Wonwoo feels like he can come from the sound alone. He wonders if you know exactly what you do to him and everyone who gets to see you like this. He suspects you do.

“I missed you.” It comes out breathy as you start to knead your tits. You bite your lip before pulling off your bra. “You hadn’t been on my latest streams, and I thought that maybe I wasn’t your favorite cam girl anymore.”

If only you knew.

you’ll always be my favorite, kitten.

You moan softly when you see the chat, thumb and index finger pinching and tugging at your nipples. “You promise?”

Wonwoo types a quick yes before he grips his cock, thumb rubbing across his slit, spreading the precum all over his tip. His large hand starts to pump his cock, watching as your eyes focus on the what he squeezes and tugs on himself. Wonwoo lets out a shaky groan when he sees your thighs squeeze together.

let me see that pretty pussy, baby.

You’re quick to push your panties to the side and your two fingers along your wet lips. Wonwoo’s eyes are glued to your pussy. Watching you use your arousal to lubricate your fingers is driving him insane, and he has to slow his movements when you sink your fingers into your cunt. He wonders what face you would make if it were his fingers fucking you instead. They’re so much bigger than yours are.

“Fuck.” You moan as you start to grind into your hand.

Wonwoo watches as your fingers move in and out of your cunt, eyeing the way you arousal is dripping down to your ass. Fuck. He wonders if you always get so wet or if the sight of his cock is getting you off. Part of him feels content deludedly believing it’s the latter.

Your moans grow louder when your fingers brush against your sweet spot. It’s rare that you imagine it’s your subscriber’s dick inside you and not your fingers, but cockydom’s cock is just so big and pretty that it’s hard not to. The other part of you thinks about your hot professor despite the fact that you were trying to get rid of the feelings you had for him. Oh well. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Wonwoo curses as his movements speed up. There’s nothing he loves more than watching you play with yourself while pretending that his fist is actually your sweet little cunt.

you close, baby?

“So close.” You whimper as you feel your orgasm building up. “Are you gonna be a good boy and come with me?”

He’ll do anything you want. Instead of telling you that, Wonwoo types in the chat to keep your eyes on him. He wants you orgasm to the sight of him coming.

You’re glad your eyes are focused on the pretty dick on your screen because it makes it easier to reach your orgasm. The sight of the flushed cock aching and throbbing makes you clench around your fingers. You can tell he’s close by the way his hips are bucking into his hand as he squeezes around the sensitive tip. His thighs are quivering, and with a few more drags of his fist, you see the first rope of cum shoot out of him.

Wonwoo lets out a strangled gasp as his cock throbs wildly with each ribbon of cum that shoots from his tip. He comes so much that his seed covers his hand and abs. It glistens over his pulsing dick while he fucks his hand through his high. He smirks when he sees that you’re eyes are completely fixed on him as he milks every last drop from his cock.

A low moan tumbles past your lips as your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you. Wonwoo is careful to watch your facial expression, his fist subconsciously speeds up. You're just so fucking hot, and he just imagines how you would look coming on his cock.

You smile nicely and sweetly at the camera, biting your lower lip as you moan softly and rub a thumb over your clit. Two fingers spread yourself so he can see the way your folds glisten with your slick. Wonwoo’s zero in on your quivering cunt and the fingers that held them open. He just wants to take them in his mouth and suck them dry.

“I haven’t came that hard in a long time.” You breathe out blissfully. “You always do this to me.”

Wonwoo swallows thickly. Fuck. You’re turning him on all over again.

“Let’s end it here, baby. Be sure to watch my next stream.”

And just like that, the screen goes black and Wonwoo is left staring his own reflection.

Sometimes you have to wonder if your life was fate’s way of punishing you for something you had done in a previous life because there was no fucking way you were this unlucky without any reason.

When you agreed to meet Seokmin for dinner, you never thought you’d be itching to leave the moment you arrived. All you wanted to do was have fun and distract yourself from your failing plan to get over Professor Jeon, but unfortunately for you, fate had other plans.

After the hostess leads you to your table, it becomes clear that bringing along Soonyoung and Chan was a mistake. Because sitting at the table alongside your friend was none other than Professor Jeon Wonwoo. You nearly trip over yourself because not only is he there, laughing and talking without a care in the world, but he looks so fucking hot while doing so.

The older man isn’t wearing his glasses and his hair is slicked up, exposing his forehead. Your professor looks like an absolute dream, but all you can see him as is a nightmare in the flesh.

This could not be happening to you.

It always slips your mind that Seokmin is older than all of you, but now you know that you’ll never forget. You considered turning around and making a stealthy escape, but your overenthusiastic friend spots you before you can even make a move. He greets all of you with a loud shout. At this point you can't just run away no matter how badly you want to. But you decide to stifle all your feelings, and try your hardest to not act like a skittish animal.

“Professor.” Chan greets casually as you three go to sit, and you envy that he’s so nonchalant. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I haven’t seen Seokmin in a long time.” Wonwoo says, noticing how you’re doing everything in your power not to look at him.

He won’t stand for it. Not anymore. “It’s nice to see you, Y/N.”

It gives him a sick thrill to see you shiver at his words. It’s subtle, but it’s there. He manages to smile instead of smirking like he wants to. Wonwoo has always known you’ve felt an attraction toward him, and he wasn’t going to let you forget it. After all, you were his favorite student.

“Don’t be so awkward!” Seokmin chastises you after you tensely greet your professor. “Wonwoo is just a normal guy right now! Don’t even think of him as your professor.”

If only that’s why you felt so uncomfortable.

Your first mistake of the night was bringing your moronic friends who can’t take a hint. The second mistake was ordering a round of shots to ease your nerves. It’s not like dinner isn’t going smoothly, but the coiling in your stomach refuses to let you relax.

You try to engage as much as you can without letting your emotions slip through, but your professor keeps making it hard. You’re not sure what’s wrong with him, but he seems interested in everything you have to say, no matter how small. You can’t help but feel a little bitter at that.

Where was this energy when you were making a fool out of yourself during his many classes?

“Y/N.” Seokmin calls in a singsong voice after he downs another shot. “A little birdie told me you’re seeing someone.”

You try to ignore Wonwoo’s piercing stare, but it’s hard. Instead of focusing on your professor’s uncharacteristic behavior, you cast a fleeting glare at Chan. He can never keep his mouth shut, and this time you don’t know how you’re going to keep yourself calm enough to answer Seokmin.

Somehow, you manage to respond normally. “I wouldn’t say that. This little birdie is obviously mistaken.”

“Really?” Soonyoung cuts in, and you can literally hear the alcohol starting to dictate his actions. “Because Minghao has been wanting to fuck you since high school, and you finally went out with the kid last week. It’s gonna break his heart to know that you don’t want to be his girlfriend.”

You clench your jaw and give Seokmin a look that said, control this fool before I murder him. Sure, maybe it would’ve been good for Professor Jeon to think that you weren’t trying to get at him because of the link you’d sent him, but talking about Minghao’s apparent schoolboy crush on you was not the way you wanted to do that. Also, it was just uncool to air out someone’s intimate feelings like that.

Before any of you could intervene and stop Soonyoung’s drunken ramblings, your dear friend keeps talking. “Of course you’re not obligated to return his feelings. If that’s the case, Seungcheol also wants to go out with you. Just let me know."

Chan might not be very observant, but he knows when you’re on the verge of exploding. He definitely does not want to see you on the warpath because it’s possibly one of the scariest experiences he’s ever gone through. So he quickly intervenes before you decided to shove one of the utensils on the table down Soonyoung’s throat.

“You said Jihoon asked you to sing on the new song he’s workin on.” Chan cuts in before Soonyoung can keep talking. “Did you say yes?”

This shift in conversation works out for all of ten minutes before Soonyoung starts up again. However, he’s now changed his target to your English professor.

“Wonwoo.” Soonyoung slurs the name slightly. “Can I ask you something?”

You can see the disaster waiting to happen, and you only hope he doesn’t do anything to perturb your teacher. As you share a look with Chan, you can tell he’s thinking the same thing.

“Since you’re not my teacher anymore, I feel comfortable asking you this.” Before he can say anything, Soonyoung continues. “Are you fucking your TA?”

Everything just goes silent.

Seokmin’s smile drops instantly. All he can do is gawk at Soonyoung. Chan looks at Professor Jeon while hiding his mouth behind his hand, and you just know he has that shit-eating grin on his face. That dumbass finds it funny, but you know that your friend isn’t done with his drunken questioning. Professor Jeon doesn’t seem all that fazed. He only blinks slowly before his eyes fall to you.

You’re not sure what Wonwoo sees when he looks at you, but whatever it is, he doesn’t like it. When he looks back at Soonyoung, there’s a lethal coldness in his eyes that you never in a million years thought you’d see. If looks could kill, your friend would be nothing but dust at this point.

“No, I’m not fucking my TA.” His deep voice comes out in a growl and you almost want to hit yourself for feeling turned just by the sound of it. “Why would you—?”

“You don’t have to lie. You’re amongst friends here.” Soonyoung declares with a laugh.

God, you’ve never wanted to throttle anyone more than you did right at that moment.

“Besides, you were seen having dinner at Michelins.” Soonyoung says before he gestures to himself then to you and Chan. “By us.”

It was official. You were definitely paying for something wicked that you had done in a past life.

Wonwoo’s shocked gaze falls to you, but you and Chan are too busy looking like you were one more word away from strangling Soonyoung to pay him any attention. Ten shades of horror goes through him at that moment because even though there was nothing going on between him and his TA, he didn’t want you to think there was.

“Aha,” Seokmin chuckles nervously. “Soonyoung’s a little drunk, I guess.”

“That’s right.” You say with a disgenuine smile and gritted teeth. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Luckily, Seokmin is quick to call for the check with the pretext of needing to get up early to go record with Jihoon. You share a look with Chan as you all get up, knowing you were both utterly fucked. Sure, Professor Jeon didn’t seem like the petty type, but Soonyoung had a way of bringing that side out in people.

“Wanna share an Uber?” Chan asks you as he hold on to a wandering Soonyoung.

Again, you ignore your professor’s piercing gaze and shake your head. “Minghao’s gonna take me home.” You say as you gesture behind you to the waiting car.

Wonwoo watches with a clenched jaw as you slip away after only offering him a halfhearted farewell.

Since his plan didn’t work this time, he was going to move to Plan B.

It makes him smirk a bit. Soon enough, you’d be the obedient, earnest student you were before this entire mess started.

If Wonwoo felt hesitant about executing his plan before, he definitely doesn’t after seeing the way your attention is focused on Xu Minghao the entirety of his class. He can barely manage to keep a calm facade as he tells you that he needs you to see him before his office hours are over. Just as he hoped, you come just when there’s about ten minutes left. He knows you do it so you wouldn’t have to spend much time with him.

You try to rush him because you can’t stand him when he has his hair slicked up and no glasses on. And you feel like you’re going crazy because it almost seems like he’s aware of this with the way he’s looking at you.

“I wanted to make sure you don’t feel uncomfortable around me after what happened the other night.”

It’s a shame that you can’t tell him that you don’t want to talk about it, especially with him. Instead of telling him that you just wanted him to get out of your mind and heart, you only offered him an impassive shrug. “I don’t. Is that all?”

“I also hope you know I’m not sleeping with my TA.” Wonwoo says in a slow drawl that makes a familiar heat gather at the pit of your gut.

“Yeah.” You breathe out shakily. “I know you wouldn’t sleep with a student or someone who was your student.”

You feel like a wounded gazelle when Professor Jeon starts to stalk toward you. A quiet squeal leaves your throat when he wraps a strong arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him. “Who says I wouldn’t?” He hums against the shell of your ear. “I’m not fucking my TA because she’s not the one I want.”

A dull thumping sound fills your ears, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s your heart. You swallow thickly and look at Wonwoo with wide eyes when he pulls away from your ear. “I… but this—”

“Don’t look so surprised.” He purrs in that deep voice of his, and you can already feel the wetness start to pool between your legs. “Despite what you all think, I’m a cocky dom.”

It takes you half a second to figure out what he’s implying. Your jaw drops, feeling like you’ve been body snatched and dropped in an alternate universe. “You—! You’re—!”

“Don’t get shy on me now, kitten. That’s not you.”

If he’s cockydom, then he’s been watching you for a long time. Much longer than you’ve been his student. It flatters and mortifies you all at the same time.

“Do you know how hard it was to have you so close without being able to touch you?” Wonwoo groans as he presses closer to you. He smirks when you whimper at the feeling of his hard cock resting against you.

“I couldn’t even look at you without thinking about your pretty little cunt.”

Suddenly, it all makes sense to you. His coldness, his unwillingness to pay you much attention, everything. That’s all you need to realize before you smash your lips on to his.

Wonwoo moans into your mouth, hands sliding down beneath your skirt to dig into your ass. His cock twitches when he feels that you aren’t wearing any underwear. Fuck. He was going to ruin you in every way possible.

You slowly guide him toward his desk without disconnecting from his lips, needing him to fuck you like you’ve dreamed of him doing from the moment you saw him. Just as you’re about to bend over his desk and show him how wet you already are, a knock startles you both.

“Professor? Can I come in?”

You both recognize it as his TA’s voice, and just as Wonwoo is about to tell her to get lost, you put a finger to your lips. He can only watch as you drop to your knees and crawl under his desk before you motion for him to sit down. It’s almost comical how easily he complies with your wishes, just how he always has during the private streams.

You really do have him wrapped around your little finger.

Wonwoo pushes his chair forward a bit, but not too much so he wouldn’t crowd you. He clears his throat before telling his TA she can come in.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No.” Wonwoo’s smile is too pretty and too casual for your liking. “Not at all.”

So you do what any other rational person would do.

You start to undo his pants.

Wonwoo is always good at keeping a poker face, but you’ve observed him long enough to know when he’s starting to get flustered. The edges of his mouth tighten and his eyes get this look in them. It makes you lick your lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Somehow, you manage to get his cock out of his pants without making too much noise. You find it kind of cute how Wonwoo is acting like he’s unaffected. However, his hard, twitching cock says otherwise. It’s so big and thick, and looks ten times prettier in person.

You lick your lips before you wrap them around the big mushroom top, gently swirling your tongue around to nurture the head. You’re looking up at him, holding back a smirk. He keeps talking with his TA about lesson plans and other shit you don’t really care about. How can you when you finally have his cock in your hands and mouth like you’ve always wanted?

Wonwoo covers a moan with a cough when you take the rest of him into your mouth. Well as much as you can, anyway. They say the camera adds ten pounds, but it didn’t do his pretty cock any justice. You can barely fit half of him in your mouth.

That doesn’t stop you from sucking his dick like a lollipop. It’s heavy against your tongue, weighing it down with the sweet, opaque drops of precum. Wonwoo is surprisingly good at not making any noise, but you can tell he’s close when he starts to carefully thrust up into your mouth, forcing you to take him a little deeper.

You speed up your movements as much as you can without making any actual noise, hollowing your cheeks as you do.

“Are you okay?” That stupid TA of his asks. “You look a little flushed.”

“Just fine.” He grits out with a tense smile. “We should probably wrap up now.”

You hear the rustling of papers just as Wonwoo starts twitching in your mouth. The soft whine you let out feels like a hot rubber band around his cock.

“Lock the door on your way out.” Now your professor sounds like he’s in pain, and you know you have him right where you want him.

“Okay?” His TA sounds confused. “But are you sure you’re—?”

“Just go.” He growls, and in the next second you hear the door slam shut.

You almost laugh, but when you see Wonwoo’s thighs clenching you prepare yourself to swallow every last fit of cum he has for you. It doesn’t take long for his cock to twitch wildly before ropes of hot, salty cum shoot down your throat. He always comes a lot, but you overestimate your ability to swallow it all. Some of this spills out of the edges of your mouth as Wonwoo lets out a loud moan.

When you pull away, he grips your arm and helps you up so you’re face to face with him. He looks so good, sweaty and flushed from his orgasm. Wonwoo’s thumb wipes the excess cum from your chin before shoving his sticky finger in your mouth. You happily lick his tongue clean, making sure to moan wantonly while you do so.

Wonwoo picks you up easily and settles you on the edge of his desk. His eyes are dark and hungry as he put his hands on either side of your thighs. “Such a fucking tease, kitten. What would you have done if she caught us?”

You boldly smirk at him, feeling your arousal drip out of you and spill on to his desk. “No one would believe her anyway. Everyone knows sweet, respectful Professor Jeon would never fuck a student.”

That’s all it takes for him to grip the front of your flimsy t-shirt and literally rip it off of you. The cold air hits your bare tits, and you can’t stop the surprised gasp that you let out.

“No bra and no panties?” Wonwoo growls, licking his lips at the sight of your hardened nipples. “Were you planning on seeing that boy tonight?”

You bite your lip and smirk. Maybe you would let Soonyoung off the hook sooner than planned. “So what if I was? You have your TA to keep you company after hours, no?”

Wonwoo growls a bit before he lifts your skirt enough to expose your dripping cunt. He licks his lips when he sees that your sweet nectar is staining his desk. He gently moves to rub your folds before delivering a harsh slap to your cunt. You whine loudly, hips thrusting upward. He repeats his actions until you’re literally trembling against him.

“Such a bad girl.” Wonwoo says as he start to rub your cunt to ease the stings of his slaps. “But let me make something clear to you, kitten. I make the rules here.”

Before you can think to protest, Wonwoo shoves his fingers inside you, knuckle deep. You can only moan and grind into his hand as he curls them expertly against your sweet spot. His actions almost have you screaming, cunt clamping down on his relentless digits. He pulls out his fingers from your needy hole with a wet pop just before you can allow yourself to fall into true bliss.

Wonwoo smirks when you let out a bratty whine. He loved every second of it. His bratty princess. “Your pussy is so greedy, baby. Sucking my fingers in and not wanting to let go.”

You might feel embarrassed, but Wonwoo drops to his knees and smashes his face into your hot cunt. He smirks against you when you let out the sexiest moan he’s ever heard. Immediately, he shoves his tongue inside you and swirls it around slowly, licking up every drop of your juices.

Wonwoo can’t help but moan at how good you taste. Fuck. He knew you would taste like heaven, and it feels wrong that he’s deprived himself of you for so long. This all feels like a dream to him.

All you can do is whimper and mewl as you grind your cunt into his face. You let out a broken whimper as you feel your climax approaching. “Professor!”

Wonwoo pulls away from your cunt, smirking when you whine. “Uh, uh, kitten. It’s Wonwoo. Say my name.”

He groans when he sees your fluttering hole clench around nothing, and again he dives in like a madman. This time he shoves his fingers inside of you, needing you to come on his tongue. All it takes is a few licks and pump of his fingers for you to close your legs around his head and orgasm with a shout of his name.

“Wonwoo!”

Fuck. He’ll never get over hearing you moan his name. At this point he doesn’t care if the dean himself hears you. He won’t stop until he stuffs you full of his cum.

You can only watch as he tugs off his clothes, appreciating how good his body looks in person. Wonwoo stalks towards you and rubs your cunt a little, mean smirk on his face. You pout at him with a low whine and wrap your thighs wrapping around his waist. “Don’t be mean like you usually are.”

His other hand moves around your body to roughly knead at the swell of your ass, pushing you against his fingers. You mewl softly, fluttering your eyelashes bat him as you look at him with puppy dog eyes that you know he won’t deny.

“Don’t be a fucking brat.” He growls suddenly shoving his slick coated fingers past your lips to shut you up.

Your tongue feels heavy as you twirl the tip around the pads of his fingers, hands scratching at his chest. A low groan rumbles in his broad chest as he watches you with darkened eyes. “Only good girls get fucked, kitten. Remember that.”

Before you can say something bratty as is your custom, the words on the tip of your tongue when you feel the tip of his cock grinding against your wet entrance. It makes your mind go blank with need.

Wonwoo’s fingers slips out of your mouth and settle on your hips to keep you still. “Your little cunt is so wet, all for this fucking cock, huh?”

You nod fervently, mewling loudly as he pushed in slowly. The stretch burns, but also feels so fucking good. You feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock, but Wonwoo isn’t satisfied with only your mewls and whimpers. Even as he’s fully sheathed inside your hot cunt, he’s thrusting painfully slow, dragging his hard cock along your walls torturously.

“Don’t stay quiet, baby. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

Your whine makes him throb inside you. “I’ve wanted your cock for so long. Just fuck me already.”

“What a whiny little brat.” Wonwoo smirks as his hands move up your body to pinch your nipples. “So fucking cute.” His words are slightly slurred, drunk on the feeling of your pussy struggling to fit his whole length.

“Fuck! Wonwoo!” You moan when he starts to thrust into you.

You can only whimper and gasp as his big cock rams into you at an unrelenting pace. It’s almost too much, but you quickly learn that your nerdy English professor is insatiable. His palms trail down to your thighs until he has your trembling legs pushed up against your chest. This new position makes him fuck you deeper, and by now you’re babbling under him, head thrown back and incomprehensible moans on your lips.

“Fucking love your cock!” You moan as he continues to hit the spongy spot inside you.

Your thighs are quivering from how hard he’s fucking you, but you love it. All you can focus on his how the cook in your stomach is on the verge of snapping.

Wonwoo groans at the feeling of your slick walls clamping down on his cock. He pulls back a bit, watching in awe as the base of his cock gets coated in a thin white ring of cream. A broken moan tears from his throat as his cock starts to twitch and throb inside you. “Gonna come for me, baby?”

All you can do is nod stupidly as he lets out another groan from how tightly your pussy is. “Good girl.”

It only takes one more snap of Wonwoo’s hips for you to come undone and coat his cock with your cream. He moans along with you, hips still thrusting to fuck you through your orgasm.

Your glassy eyes stare up at him in your afterglow and you wonder if it’s the mind numbing orgasm singing through your veins or if Wonwoo has always looked so ethereal. 

“Fuck, kitten. All this for me? How cute.”

You can only whine pathetically when you realize Wonwoo is talking about the wet squelch that’s filling his office when his cock slams in your pussy. A string of broken whimpers tumble past your lips at how he’s pounding into your overstimulated cunt.

“So fucking tight, baby.” He breathes out heavily.

From his sloppy thrusts, you can tell me close. It makes you grin and purposely clench down on him. “Fill me up, professor.”

He thinks you’re kidding until you push away the hands that are still holding on to your legs. You stealthily wrap them around his waist so he won’t pull out. Wonwoo moans, unable to hold back his orgasm. You both moan as he dumps his cum into you, his hot seed filling you to the brim.

He slowly lets you go, and just as you think you’re done. Wonwoo flips you over so you’re on your stomach and bent over his desk. He groans at the sight of his cum leaking out of your cute little pussy.

You lay pliant and silent as Wonwoo folds your skirt up, his big hands kneading the globes of your ass in a gentle circle. Being the inpatient brat that you are, you wiggle your hips back until you bump against his damp cock. Wonwoo lets you rut your ass against his crotch for friction until he stills your hips with a click of his tongue. “So impatient, baby.”

“Only for you, babe.”

Wonwoo groans and spreads one ass cheek to the side and exposing your messy cunt to the air. You’re so pretty and wet for him, hole fluttering and glossy with your mixed release.

“Want me to fill your tight little cunt again?” Wonwoo asks patronizingly as he nudges the head of his cock between your wet folds.

You smirk against the cool wood of his desk. “Don’t act like you’re not dying to.”

Wonwoo can’t be angry when you arch your ass further against him in invitation. Not when he knows your words are true. Also, he finds it increasingly difficult to refuse you. His fingers curl around your waist and your body down his desk until he impales your little pussy on his cock. The stretch is painstakingly slow, forcing you to feel every inch, ridge,and vein dragging along your walls.

“Oh!” You moan wantonly. “Fuck me.”

“Look how well you take me. If only you would’ve kept your attention on me, I would’ve been nicer.”

You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or not, but you don’t fucking care. His big cock feels too good that it’s all you can think about.

Wonwoo groans in approval, watching the way your pussy expands as he draws back. He’s obsessed with the way your cunt sucks him in nice and tight as he plunges back into you. Being the insatiable little brat that you are. You start you bounce yourself back on his cock.

“Kitten.” He says through a strained moan. “What did I tell you—?”

His reprimand is cut off with a sharp grunt, his hips stuttering while you tremble and frantically fuck your cunt on his cock at a quick pace, the pleasure coiling in your lower belly faster than before. He smirks and decides to match your pace until you can’t take it anymore.

“So wet and perfect for me.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Wonwoo start to slam into your spot at a brutal pace. The loud squelching from your pussy and your moans is all you can hear. It’s almost a miracle that no one has come to his office from all the noise you’re making.

“But I think.” Wonwoo grunts as the tip of his cock ventured deep into your cunt, intoxicating him with your tightness. “My bratty princess still needs to be taught a lesson.”

His deeps voice makes you shudder, and when you sink your nails into the hard woods, you feel large palms cover your smaller hands. Wonwoo links your fingers together before he starts pounding into you once again. He groans at the feeling of your hot cunt clenching down on him. So perfect and tight.

He fucks into you roughly until you’re wrapped around him so tightly that he can barely move. Wonwoo can tell that he’s fucked you stupid because all you can do is whine and moan about how big he is. It’s nonsensical babbling that doesn’t really make sense, but he loves every bit of it. All it takes is for you to cream on his cock for his own orgasm to hit. Your spasming walls make him thrust deeply into you, fucking his cum back into your walls relentlessly.

Once he can’t handle the overstimulation he gently pulls out of your sensitive cunt. You mewl softly, and Wonwoo feels like his heart is on the verge of exploding. He gently rubs his thumbs against the back of your hands before pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your head.

“Come on, baby.” He says gently as pulls you up from his desk. “Let’s get you home.”

You’re not sure when you fall into an almost domestic routine with Wonwoo, but you’re too busy enjoying the bliss of fucking him to care. A giddy feeling blooms in your chest when you’re leaving your part-time job for the night and see your professor's sleek black car waiting for you. No matter how many times he’s waited for you, the warm feeling never dulls.

Within minutes of getting into his car, your back is brushing up against the steering wheel as you sit on Wonwoo’s lap. By now you’ve taken off your jeans and are only wearing an oversized sweatshirt that originally belonged to him. Of course, you’re also wearing the pair of lacy panties that he bought for you a while back.

“Fuck, kitten.” Wonwoo licks his lips as he lifts the material covering your clothed cunt. His cock twitches when he sees that the fabric is wet. “Did you know I was coming?”

The grin you give him makes him want to ruin you. “I was hoping you would.”

You’re so needy, but he loves it. And now he’s going to ruin you all over again.

Wonwoo loves the pretty little sounds you let out as you start to grind into his clothed cock. “You’re acting so needy. Does that mean you’re gonna behave tonight?”

You give him an impish grin and shake your head. It would be a cold day in hell if you were ever to be pliant for him. Wonwoo growls lowly, and before you know it, he’s pulling out his cock and dragging you up and down the length of it. “You feel that? It’s all for you, baby.”

Being the impatient brat that you are, you don’t wait for him to give you permission to sink down on to his cock and start bouncing on it. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, desperately holding on to him as if he could disappear right in front of you. His fat cock is stretching you out so much, and no matter how many times you’ve fucked already, you’re still not used to it.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good. So tight.”

You let out a loud whine when Wonwoo starts to thrust up into you. All you can do is moan his name as your pussy spasms and clenched down on him as he grips your ass to help you fuck his cock.

“So fucking good.” You mewl as the tip of his cock hits your g-spot with every thrust.

The sound of skin slapping fills the car and all you can think about is how good you feel. It doesn’t matter that your arousal is leaking down to his balls and staining his pants. Your hot cunt feels too good. Wonwoo moves his hand down to toy with your clit, thumb pressing into it a bit as he starts rhythmically rubbing it with his thrusts.

Wanton moans spill from your mouth as you feel your orgasm approaching. Your fingers claw at his chest as you finally come, feeling the coil in your lower abdomen finally snap. With a few more sloppy thrusts, he goes as deep as he can before finally releasing his load into you.

As usual, Wonwoo keeps fucking into your wet walls, eager to fuck his cum back inside you. Your mixed release seeps down to the driver seat, but that’s the least of Wonwoo’s worries. He pounds into you harder, your cunt practically swollen now by how hard he’s fucking into you.

Finally, he slows his movement before completely stopping. He makes no move to detach from you.

“Will you spend the night with me?”

He asks so shyly and cutely that you can’t deny him. It’s not like you were going to anyway.

“When am I gonna get fucked on cam?” You read the chat with a giggle.

“I don’t know.” You said as you smirk at the man behind the camera. “Whenever my boyfriend stops being so camera shy.”

Wonwoo bites his lip, smirking as you took off your bra. If it’s something you wanted, if course he would do it.

Because you’re his favorite.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo

[atinylittlepain]

okay i was wondering if you could a joel x fem reader maybe even dbf joel where it’s loosely based on the song diet mountain dew by lana del rey? like the pining part of it and also the lyric “let’s take jesus of the dashboard” THATS SO HOT TO ME SO IDK

ive never requested anything before soo hope this is okay 🫣🫣

ahhhhhh, this one is a doozy

Ride It

pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

joel milller masterlist

She calls her dad's co-worker for a ride and gets a little more than she was expecting.

warnings | 18+ SMUT, age gap, DBF!joel, and not much else y'all

............................

“Hello?”

“Mr. Miller?” She can hear sheets rustling, his gruff sigh over the crackling receiver.

“It’s late, honey. What’s wrong?” Her heart stutters at the sweet name he calls her, the same name he’s called her since she first met him when her dad started working for Miller Construction four years ago.

“It’s my car. I think I have a flat tire and I can’t drive on it.” A long sigh filters through the phone.

“You should call your dad. He’s probably worried sick about you.”

“No! I can’t– he’s gonna be so pissed. Please, Mr. Miller. Would you– would you come get me? I know you’re good with cars and all. Please?” Another long sigh.

“Alright, honey. Will you tell me where you are?” She does, pulled over on the shoulder of the highway, a little ways out of the city but nowhere near home.

“Hang tight, I’m coming.”

“Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

“I’ve told you a thousand times– just Joel, honey.”

“Thank you, Joel.” 

“I’ll be there soon.” She clicks her cell phone shut with a sigh, slumping back in the driver’s seat of her car. Her stomach swirls in anticipation. Normally, she’d try to tamp down the crush she’s had on Joel for quite some time, but after a night out in the city with a few of her old high school friends, she’s just warmed up enough to let her mind race with thoughts of him. It’s silly, something that could never really happen, seeing as her dad has been best friends with Joel for years. But it wasn’t impossible, was it? After all, he’s younger than her dad, and only fifteen years older than her. Jesus christ, get a grip. She huffs, shaking her head to still her thoughts as she looks out at the pitch-black Texas night.

It isn’t long before headlights are brightening up the inside of her car and she turns in her seat to see Joel’s familiar pick up truck pulling up behind her. 

….

The rosary that hangs off her rear-view mirror is swaying harshly, the only sound beside their harsh panting and the sticky slap of skin is it clinking into the windshield over and over again. She’s not entirely sure how they got here, a mixture of late night talking and boundaries being flirted with until they both gave in to something they couldn’t have in the light of day.

“Shit, honey– fucking squeezing me– bit of a stretch for you, huh?” A high-pitched whine falls from her lips, her nails digging into the fabric of his unbuttoned flannel. Joel lets out a breathy laugh.

“That’s it, bounce on it for me, there you go– fuck– boys at school just not cutting it, are they? Need someone with a little more skill.” He punctuates his last word with a jolting thrust up that has the swollen tip of his cock grazing a spot so deep inside her it makes her crumple up against him, his rough fingers digging into her ass to support her as he starts a jagged rhythm of his own.

“C’mon, miss college. Use your words. Who’s making you feel so good?” She hadn’t been expecting it, a surprised yelp leaving her lips when he smacks the curve of her ass, hard, broad palm sure to leave a mark. There is nothing comfortable about the position they’re in, her straddling his lap, scrunched over him in the driver seat, one hand pressed up against the car door window while the other digs into his shoulders for stability. But all she can focus on is the sweet snap of pain and pleasure licking up her spine with each of his thrusts. 

“You, Joel– you feel so good– want more– please, please–” Her words die in her throat when he thrusts up particularly hard, pressing her hips down to meet him and holding her there in a deep grind. She lets out a choked sob of his name, cunt clenching hard around him and coaxing a low moan from the back of his throat. 

“Been wanting this for a while, haven’t you, honey?” His words are a smear against her bare chest where he had tugged down the front of her dress and bra, leaving harsh grazes of his teeth to the swell of her tits. He chuckles when the only response she gives him is a preening whine.

“Fucking knew it. You think I didn’t see how you were looking at me? Practically begging for it– shit– dirty little thing, aren’t you? What would your old man say, huh? Does he know his daughter’s just a little slut?” His voice is a southern slur stamped hotly into her skin, low and drawling and all melted together, pushing her even closer to the brink as her wetness starts to smear down hers and Joel’s thighs, the sound of skin slicking and sticking with each thrust becoming impossibly lewd. It’s almost too much when his one hand dips under her rucked up skirt, fingers harshly toying with her clit.

“Give it to me, honey. Make a fucking mess, c’mon.” The pleasure floods over in an instant, the only sound she can make is a breathy chant of his name as her hips seize up and she spasms around him. He’s not far behind as he thrusts into her a few more times before his hips stutter to a stop and she feels his warmth spreading inside her. She clings to him, both of them breathing hard and flushed with pleasure. 

“Jesus christ, I’m sorry– I should’ve–” “S’fine, I’m on the pill.” He throws his head back into the headrest at that, chest still heaving. But he doesn't stay still for long, jostling her in his hold as he suddenly leans forward and yanks the rosary still clinking into the windshield clean off the rearview mirror, tossing it haphazardly onto the passenger seat. She quirks an eyebrow at him as he settles back into the seat.

“Damn noise was driving me insane.”