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usedpidemo · 2 months

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More than you know (Nmixx Haewon)

“Miss Haewon, please see me after class hours later. I would like to talk to you.”

There it is. A rather predictable bookend to another dull lecture. She saw it coming from the moment she walked into the classroom.

She absolutely loathes hearing it.

Despite the comically indignant scowl she shoots you on the way out—and the mocking jeers from her friends that elicit embarrassment—by the time the final bell rings, she couldn’t wait to see you later on.

You’re excited, too—but for all the wrong reasons.

She’s the only thing keeping your passion for teaching alive.

—————

For the record, Haewon is not a bad student, not in the slightest. If anything, she’s par for the course. She’s not gonna be some summa cum laude, but she isn’t a sorry case, either. And that’s been the pattern with your students for years. They only care enough just to get by. Haewon is the most clear-cut example you can refer to.

Based on the rather intriguing stares she shoots at you, you’d be tricked into believing she’s actually interested enough in improving her future performance in class. Peeking through the laptop, catching glimpses of everyone’s grades. Her name is highlighted on the document, and the scores consist primarily of mid-eighties with some low-nineties. Clearly she’s nowhere close to a flunk or a future dropout.

Better than the high seventies and low eighties that the rest of your class averages.

“Sir, how many times do we need to go over this. I’m doing well for myself,” she remarks, giving you a look that says I told you so. The evidence is right in front of you, written in bold. “C’mon sir. Just let me go early today.”

And that’s when you make your first of many mistakes—feeding her the attention she craves. Where’s this energy when it comes to your lectures, you wonder?

Before you even entertain the thought, the scene has already gone completely sideways. Here’s a student with zero regard for following rules, and you’ve experienced your fair share of troublemakers. She’s sitting on the desk, pale skin in plain view from the off shoulder cropped sweatshirt that barely qualifies for the dress code. You’re looking—and she’s keenly noticing.

“Maybe another time, sir?” Haewon reads your mind like an open book. She’s purposely dressing improperly for two reasons: to piss off the higher-ups who hate her guts, and to make it easier for you to rip through her clothes. “I’ve got dance practice with the theater girls and I’m running late.”

“Well for one, you can drop the honorifics,” you reply, plainly, in a particularly weak effort to change the conversation. The attention you give her is short-lived; your focus returns to the unanswered emails and grades you need to fill. “Class hours are done for the day.”

It’s evidently not the response she wanted, because her arms are crossed and she’s pouting. You have to admit, she looks cute acting like that, revealing clothes be damned.

“Sir.” Haewon drawls out into a groan, bothered by the monotony of waiting when she has places to be. She won’t go as far as to knock your laptop down, but she’s considering it as a last resort. “You’re being a bitch right now.”

Anyone else in her position would get it—a verbal lashing that would get your teaching license rescinded and take you to court, but Haewon is the epitome of getting away with murder. You have no idea how she does it—how she manages to escape mostly unscathed from punishment. Even now while you drum on the keyboard, because you’re allowing her to call you a bitch without consequence.

Maybe because you like her more than you would openly admit.

She sighs. It’s a defeatist tone. A few moments later, you close your laptop and she perks up.

“Take a seat. I do want to talk to you about something important,” you tell her, knowing one hundred percent certain she’s not getting off your desk.

Haewon can’t help herself to a snarky comment. “Damn. Finally.”

By every conceivable account, this should be awkward, if not outright wrong. She’s still an undergrad, you tell yourself, staring into her sharp, alluring eyes. For as rebellious and as unruly as Haewon acts, she still listens to you. Hell, you’re the only professor she bothers to attend classes regularly for. She’d tell you she cares in her own twisted way. Look at how she dresses, for one. Your thoughts consist of mainly her in some cumbersome position, her lips letting out these desperate, heavy gasps. Your hands squeezing her taut breasts; the way her shirt accentuates the curves of her chest drives your imagination wild. You can spend all day planning how you intend to fuck her—

“Sir, you’re staring again.” A snap back to the present, where she’s grinning and leaning close to your face. So pretty. “I get it—I’m hot, but we’re on borrowed time, sir.”

“Right. I honestly forgot what I was gonna tell you,” you mindlessly drawl, searching through your desk for something. Something to temporarily distract you from the inevitability of the end. The rest of your paperwork lies unattended in the faculty room, you remember, but you’re not gonna step foot inside that place—not when the other professors are still around. Time is money. “But it’s definitely not your grades, that’s for certain.”

“What’s it about, then?” Her eyes continue to follow your every move.

You place a folded sheet of paper between you. She grabs it and reads through the brief content. The response is concerning.

“You’re leaving?” Haewon turns to you, stunned and gobsmacked. A rare expression coming from someone who’s usually indifferent toward everything and everyone.

Genuinely, you have no idea how to explain yourself. You had this all planned out since the beginning of the year; these two semesters will be your last, you were completely certain. You could have told anyone in the faculty. They’re decent people—as decent as they can be during the few times you actually interact with them—but they were merely coworkers and nothing more. You could have told your wife, who just so happens to be a fellow professor and colleague, but she’s one of the reasons why you’re leaving in the first place.

Word spreads like wildfire around campus, so you know to be careful, but this is straight recklessness. You call it mutual trust.

“Been thinking about it for a while,” you say, rather quietly, trying your hardest not to look her way.

“Let me guess,” she says, breaking the pretense of sympathy and concern for her usual caustic tone. “No one cares about your shitty class?”

You’re not remotely bothered by her comment, even if she’s speaking the truth. Though she could have used a nicer word besides shitty. “Part of it, yeah.”

“I seriously don’t understand why there’s gotta be a religious unit for a business degree,” she adds, fascinated by her own question. Even more so than listening to your lectures. “I don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it either.” Truthfully, you seriously question why you’re even teaching here to begin with.

You’re employed by one of the top universities in the country; every parent would sacrifice everything just for their children to study here. It pays well by teaching standards, but the bar is in hell. Despite the prestige, the overall experience is no different than your time in public high school. Most of the students who do attend come from rich backgrounds; people who use the place as a dick measuring contest to see who is the richer person. These entitled scholars who are always on their phone—one of their many phones—and cheat to get ahead.

It happens so often on the regular that you eventually stopped caring.

“Hmm,” Haewon thinks to herself, running through every piece of information she has to weaponize against you. She knows you better than anyone, mainly because you share personal life details like they’re the daily newspaper. Not to mention the very reason she comes to the classroom in the afternoons: you.

Then she comes to a rather off the wall conclusion. “It’s Miss Myoui, isn’t it?”

You squint your eyes. Haewon glints up. A small opening.

After a brief pause, she piles on, smirking. “Did I touch a nerve? Poor you,” she says, shooting you a mocking pout that you mostly ignore. “I guess you haven’t had some good pussy in a while. I mean, there’s no reason for me to be here other than the fact that Miss Myoui isn’t letting you clap her ass. Maybe the rumors are true then—”

Before she continues to spill more information that anyone shouldn’t be allowed to know, you fire back with a sharp glare. She cheekily grins. By ignoring the flashing red light right in front of you, you’re purposefully walking towards your own downfall. It’s a trap; you know this. You know Haewon more than any other student. All her little tricks, all her crafty schemes.

God, you can already see how this is gonna end.

“So I’m right?” Haewon tilts her head, leaning slightly forward. Her smug expression, word choice, and mocking tone tests your patience—including your blood levels—and you’re failing by the minute. “Trouble at home?”

Your response? Nothing. Going word for word with her ultimately results in a losing effort; previous conversations with her leave you more tongue tied and in a rut by the end. Haewon is so natural at getting under people’s skin. It’s what she gets off on—wrapping professors and superiors around her finger with her mouth. And more often than not, she’s charismatic and charming enough that it’s entertaining, but no one wants to openly admit it except you.

It’s how she’s able to read you like an open book. Let personal information slip so seamlessly. The numerous discussions regarding her underperformance in class lead into intimate sessions where you and Haewon become more acquainted with each other. A little too comfortable at times, but you can see where and why she acts the way she does. And you had come to the conclusion that you can’t fix her. Many have tried—and failed. She does whatever she wants, and she’ll end up getting away with it.

You slide your laptop aside, ready to dance with the devil, going against everything you swore against. “Mmm—not quite, but you’re halfway there.”

Haewon smiles and her eyes flutter. Not in a patronizing, condescending way, but the sweet kind. Genuine. The soft side she’ll only let you see. “Miss Myoui not letting you clap, sir?”

“She does,” you say, dour. And I already told you class hours are done. Please don’t call me sir.”

“Right. Sir.” Haewon’s playful tone trails off with that loathsome word. She can’t help but smirk; it’s second nature to her. She’ll claim that you fell for that bait, but that was deliberate, you’ll say—even if she refuses to believe you.

After a brief impasse, “So—sir,” she follows, using her eyebrows and cadence to tease, her hands on the edge of her pants, teasing some underwear, “You need to fuck me again? Now? Is Miss Myoui not letting you have some lately?”

Turning your gaze away and to the desk, “About Mina,” you reply, drumming your fingers on the table, deep in thought, “I’m planning to divorce her soon.”

“Huh?” Her eyes shoot wide, her expression rather surprised at the sudden revelation. You’d think by how she teases you about your wife, she’d have a much more subdued reaction. Considering she knows facets of your rather strange relationship with Mina. “Well, I would tell you’d be fumbling big time, but you should know—”

“She’s cheating on me. I know.”

Now she’s genuinely shocked, completely caught unaware. She’d assume you to be particularly naive and clueless about campus rumblings, especially since she’d never see you outside of the classroom and in the faculty room. “Well damn. I honestly thought you didn’t know.”

“Can’t say it would be the first time I’ve heard about it,” you say, turning to face her again, cold and gloomy. Pointing your finger at her, “And before you say anything, no, I didn’t catch her getting eaten out in the faculty room.”

You say that with the utmost sincerity—and sarcasm.

Haewon hesitates, before answering, rather “I figured.” She understands that your poor eyes have seen some things you shouldn’t be seeing.

Truthfully, you’re amazed she hasn’t brought up the subject a lot earlier. Since the end of the previous academic year, you’ve noticed Mina’s sudden changes in behavior. She’s sending more text messages telling you she’ll arrive home later than usual, the frequent faculty outings she chooses to attend, the cancellation of plans scheduled months in advance—the biggest of which, a dinner date at a particularly expensive five-star restaurant on the other side of town that has a notorious 18 month waitlist that you miraculously booked for your anniversary. And that was five months ago.

People change, but Mina is an entirely different person to you now. You can hardly recognize her.

“I guess I should say I’m sorry for what happened,” Haewon says, pretty modest and empathetic in tone, but even during serious moments, she can’t help but remark, “But you were kind of loser material for a woman like her.”

You can only stare back, annoyed. She chuckles, heartily. Seeing your animated, cartoonish expressions only serves to amuse her even further and fuel her addiction of teasing you.

“Ah, I fucking love you, sir. You’re my favorite professor for this reason.” In an instant, the somber facade falls apart and she’s back to being her usual coy self.

“Among other things?” you question.

“Such as?” Haewon looks confused. It’s a bluff; you’re calling it now. “Such as what, sir?”

Placing a hand on her knee, you’re creating friction so intense that her mouth goes agape and her breaths grow heavier. “Such as the fact that no one eats you out better than I do,” you reply, inflection transitioning from formal to low.

“Oh?” She doesn’t believe what’s happening to you. “Sir,” her cadence dances in such a melodic and sultry way it’s gonna ruin you faster than anything she’s done so far. “You have no evidence to prove—”

Suddenly, Haewon goes tongue tied, unable to finish her sentence. That’s a first. And you didn’t need to lift a finger or use your voice. Your other hand finds solace around her toned waist, exploring her tummy, and it’s thankfully not restricted by any layer of clothing. So much pristine skin to claim as yours, you begin to lose your restraint—and there isn’t much left to begin with.

“I can take you to the faculty room and show you,” you mumble against her belly, the cold breath tickling her flesh that she trembles. Haewon’s senses float off, her vision growing dark as her hands impulsively latch onto your shoulders. In return, you peck her navel, her abs, until you reach her abdomen, a hair’s breadth away from her chest. Between kisses, you continue to feed into her want, “Or I can give you an example right now.”

“Please,” Haewon finds enough clarity to cup your face up and meet her in a lengthy passionate liplock. This is what she wanted from the start. “Indulge me, sir.”

The only thing keeping you two apart is the laptop dangling on the opposite side of the table, almost pushed aside while you were making out. You quickly place it on a random desk before closing the two classroom door curtains.

When you return to Haewon, she’s sitting atop your desk, playfully swinging her legs, smiling modestly. It’s only now that you recognize how pretty she looks. But behind that meek appearance is a demon, a temptress that only sees you as a conduit for pleasure. In her eyes, the only purpose you have to give is sex, and nothing more.

So push your chair forward when you sit down. Haewon’s legs are already spread wide, but the pants remain on them. She doesn’t like to do it herself.

“Won’t give me a cheating discount?” you say, looking up at her coy grin, placing your hands around the hem of her trousers.

“Technically—” she trails off, kissing you, “You’re cheating on her with me, sir.” Followed by another. Each one deeper, more intimate than the last. “Don’t act all innocent now, especially when we’ve been doing this for months.”

Then, Haewon consumes you—as in, devours you. Grabs you and makes out with you with a passion you wish she’d present during class hours. You’d be content to remain in this position for the rest of the day, even if the clothes never come off; he’s so passionate and fervent that it’s intoxicating. But it’s all planned. Elaborate. You’re familiar with her more than you ever want to be: how she loves to unbutton your shirt while kissing you, how she mumbles and hums softly against your mouth, how she whispers desires that end up becoming realized after the foreplay. In reality, she’s the one dictating the pace, the one calling all the shots, and you’re merely an instrument she uses to indulge herself.

And she wants it: everywhere, in every position—something you find too much to handle, and she’s already quite the handful. But it’s merely a delay of the inevitable; you’re going to fuck Haewon, you’re gonna pour all your cum inside her, and you can figure out the rest the morning after.

More often than not, your shirt ends up unbuttoned, but not completely undone. One of two layers keeping your impulsive desires in check. As you work Haewon’s pants down her legs, most of your lesser instincts are shown in full display. It takes almost tearing your own fingers off your very hands not to rip through her panties. Meanwhile, she’s lounging on the desk, enjoying the sight of you reverting back to something primal.

The way you fondle her creamy thighs, never finding their beginning and end, is like beholding a sculpture crafted by the gods. They’re meant to be worshiped, to be handled reverently.

And Haewon guides you through the process, commanding you like she has authority over you. Titles do not matter—they never have. “Keep going,” she says, as you leave delicate kiss marks down her thighs, slowly burying yourself into the inviting presence of her pussy. Peeking through the near-nonexistent layer of fabric, she shifts the lift of her legs, perching on your shoulders as she forces you into her suffocating warmth.

“Show me,” she gasps, brushing your hair with her hand, and that’s what sets the rest into motion.

Her legs clutch you into a breathless hold. God, she’s killing you slowly, and you don’t mind it one bit. At this point, you have nothing to lose. You might as well treat this as your last supper, your final meal before you have to say goodbye. She can strangle you with her thighs while you drag your tongue up and down her folds, suck on her clit, take in all her nectar—it doesn’t change the fact that Haewon is gonna fucking end you.

You might as well repay the favor.

And despite throwing caution to the wind, Haewon appears unprepared. Dazed and confused by the overwhelming sensation burning through her nerves, she trembles—and moans. She couldn’t be any less subtle if she tried; hearing her hit notes you never thought she’s capable of hitting only serves to be a minor distraction from her pulsating heat. You’re relentless, slowly picking away at her senses, at her sensitive cunt, knowing that no one can eat her out as well as you do.

“S-sir.” Haewon can only muster up a single word before her mouth fills the room with nothing but air.

Deep down, you despise the rather obstructive yet comfortable position you’re in. Your tongue brushes against Haewon’s folds, going back and forth to taste of her warmth and her clit. The rest of her frame lays atop the desk, trembling, unable to keep herself steady under your grip. She’s lost you somewhere in between, clinging onto the edges of the table for support. You can only imagine her jaw agape, her expressions twisting in pleasure, wriggling and tossing her head around as she aimlessly tries to find some semblance of control.

Her mouth is the only tool she can use to make some sense of this overwhelming bliss. And even that doesn’t amount to much. ‘Shit,’ ‘so good,’ ‘don’t stop—’ these are only some of the things she groans out as you trap her in a whirlpool of her own ecstasy. It’s still not enough. You want to prove her wrong; you want to remind her what’s important, and the only way you can make sure she truly understands if she fucking cums all over your face.

So while Haewon writhes and makes a damn mess of your desk, you continue to feast on her pretty cunt. She’s making sure every person in the building knows how good your tongue is, and it’s in character with how unabashedly shameless she behaves in front of everyone. Her legs kick sharply against your chair, so you end up where you were supposed to be from the beginning—on your knees. And yet it doesn’t deter you; if anything, you grow more attached to her pussy, savoring every taste and drop, taking piece of every little part of her as yours.

You can’t wait to explore the rest of her body and claim it as yours. On the off chance you’re able to rip her shirt off, your hands roam her tight, lithe figure. You’re met by layers of fabric, frustrated at the inability to grab her breasts in their natural form. She grabs you by the wrists; it’s a miracle she’s able to feel you through the waves crushing her to the desk. You suck on her clit hard. She lets out this guttural moan that sounds violent in nature, like you’re hurting her, when you’re actually doing the exact opposite.

And it’s how you play off each other for the most part. Your need to get Haewon naked is only matched by her desperation to cum. She doesn’t need to tell you directly how much she wants to. Her hands guide you beneath her shirt, and you press on the underside of her boobs in appreciation. You’re playing a dangerous game; you have no intention of letting go.

Surprisingly, Haewon holds up well. One look and it might appear that she’s a complete wreck: how her body trembles unceasingly, how she has half her shirt lifted to give you a better view of her chest for when you eventually come up for air, how helpless she is at even the slightest touch. You made her like this. It’s a habit she’s used to by now; she’s learned that a figure like hers is meant to be admired, to be used.

Before you grow comfortable with the habit, the idea that you can eat her out on the desk for hours, Haewon cums.

She keens and shudders through her surprise orgasm. It’s aligned with her playful nature to cum without your knowing, even though the signs were there all along. Your tongue works through the torrent of fluid, then the wave of slick that you drink up. Lap whatever your satiated bud allows. You can see remnants of her climax spill down the desk and to the floor, to her pants.

Even now, you’re still learning something new about your students. For one, you never knew Haewon squirts.

The wet desk would make for a perfect reference picture for when she questions your legitimacy again—but you have better ways of explaining yourself.

You give Haewon no reprieve; she mewls and whimpers as you lick her folds clean, till you settle into soft, gentle kisses. The situation is all sorts of fucked; she has places to be and friends to meet, but you have her on top of your desk, keening after eating her out and making her cum without a care. It’s gonna take an essay's worth of explaining the glaringly wet patches on her clothes and deep red marks over her skin.

Truthfully, she’d rather be with you than with her overbearing friends—but you won’t hear it directly from her lips.

Speaking of, you hear a phone ring. Haewon cranes her neck in the direction of her bag. “Sir, I need my phone.” She huffs, gasping for air, each word spaced out between deep breaths.

Regretfully, it takes every bit of your resolve to release your tongue from her warm cunt. You rummage through her bag and hand the phone over to her. It’s about picking up the pieces now, salvaging whatever you can make of the mess you made, albeit there’s hardly anything to save, even yourself.

“Don’t.” Haewon uses her loose toes to point at you, shifting herself into a sitting position on the desk. You’re halfway done with the first button on your shirt when she stops you. She’s tapping through her phone, texting some bullshit excuse to her friends. Knowing her, they’re most likely no better than her; they might be playing into your little secret, too. All it takes is one person, one word of mouth, before information spreads around like wildfire.

Like everything else about her, you had mostly left it up to interpretation. Forcing details out of Haewon is a near-impossible task. You were never really a good negotiator. The deal usually ends up like this: her panties for a bonus in her grades, her lips for a signed excuse letter, and if she was really in the mood, her pussy for a cheat sheet. Sometimes,

She sets her phone aside on the desk, hopping off the table to lay her hands on your exposed chest. Momentarily kissing you, she whispers, “Sir, I told them I would be a little late today. You should know better by now.”

Her fingers wring around the collar of your button up shirt, eyes ablaze with reinvigorated lust, lips curled in a pleasant smile. You’re so enamored with her, it drives you crazy. Even when she pushes you onto your chair, even when she rips the already undone shirt off your body, all you can do is pay attention to the stars in her eyes. Her warm, wanton gaze—both charming and alluring in all the right ways. She knows how to use every part of herself to near perfection.

The rest of your clothes couldn’t come off any faster. Your pants and boxers pool around your ankles, followed shortly by a dark cropped sweatshirt. You’re not given any time to savor the perfection that is Haewon’s naked figure; she’s straddled on your lap, stroking your hard cock with a delicate grip. She smirks, and she has every right to look smug. You’re left breathless, under pressure; if only you can see yourself in the mirror and see how needy you look, and the utter control Haewon has over you.

And you allow her; this is her specialty, this is what she’s built for—to fucking end you.

If your words allow you, you’d command her to get on her knees, suck your cock and take a warm load all over her face; this is the ideal position to make the move. But you can’t. Not when you’re missing the point.

Haewon is on the edge of your lap, running her hand around your cock, gathering spurts of precum on her nails and finger pads. She’s still winded from before, slow in her movements. The naughty look she gives your body never grows old.

“I hope you don’t mind if I ask you a question,” she starts, looking down at the little mess she’s making on your thigh. You’re too overwhelmed to breathe, let alone say a word.

“Be honest with me. I’m being serious for once.”

And she sounds like she means it. You gulp your throat as you enter the unknown.

Her eyes flicker up to meet yours, her expression deep in thought, something she’s not usually seen doing. And you feel the heat gradually building on your lap, but you’re paralyzed by anxiety for the sensation to register. She runs the other hand through hair to take a good luck at you: your rather sweaty face, somewhere between pleasure and tense.

“Tell me,” she sighs, running a hand down your shoulder to your elbow, before continuing, “Am I the best student you’ve ever fucked?”

“Yes.” The word comes out involuntarily, as if it were muscle memory. Like your body knows, and it knows itself better than anyone or anything else.

It draws a piqued reaction from Haewon. She raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “And what about Yoona?”

“And what about her?”

A reply you end up regretting almost immediately. Haewon doesn’t take bullshit for an answer, as evident by the cold, dour stare on her face. If there’s anyone who knows the ins and outs of university, it’s her.

It doesn’t take long for you to cave in. “She’s so tight,” you admit, sounding like a guilty criminal being interrogated. “But you’re still the best, I swear.”

“And what about Yuna? That exchange student Lily? Miss Minatozaki? You say that to just about anyone.”

In an instant, she goes from curious and passionate to downright frightening. It’s not supposed to be like this; normally it’s you who has the authority. Haewon can go on and on for hours if she wanted to. She has all the leverage, all the evidence, all the power to cause the end of everything, your life included. But she only wants one thing: the truth.

“They’re nothing compared to you. Promise. You’re still my favorite student.”

To a certain extent, you’re right; Haewon is your favorite, but for all for the wrong reasons. It has nothing to do with teaching her anything other than being a good toy, because deep down, she’s about as irredeemable as your peers make her out to be. Really, it’s about using her body, fucking her, pushing her to the absolute limits—anything to get your mind out of the numbing, monotonous work of being an actual professor. There are many good girls in class, including the names she mentions in passing, but this is a stark reminder that Haewon is yours, and you belong to Haewon.

“Then show me.”

And to drive the point even further, she sinks down on your lap, pressing her weight on your crotch—until her pussy meets your cock and you both disappear into the sea of pleasure again.

Haewon throws her head back, and she’s never looked more vulnerable, not even when you had her laid out on the desk. All this flesh and body to claim, and you have no clue where to begin. But that’s the least of your problems when she begins to glide up and down, rocking your lap with slow, agonizing thrusts. You end up blanking out and caring about the friction in your hips instead.

The slip of your cock in and out of her pussy when she rides you. Your palms press against her waist while you watch her slowly come undone: the moans, curses, and every sound in between, the rapidly twisting expressions, the hypnotic jiggle of her chest. Soon, you find a steady rhythm to match, and everything becomes effortless. Both of you pushing and pulling against each other’s bodies in an effort to get deeper. You forget you’re a professor and her a student, only two souls in need of sex during some trying times in your lives.

In a way, you’re both meant to be. Fate is a strange entity.

Then Haewon regains some clarity, enough to be kissing you, moaning directly in your ear, demanding your gaze. Even when her hole swallows your cock, she still wants your attention. And even while you have it so deep in her cunt that she’s mewling, struggling for oxygen, she manages to form a coherent sentence.

“Tell me I’m the tightest. Tell me I have the best pussy you ever fucked.”

God, she’s so fucking tight you can’t fully comprehend it. Perhaps even more, and you’re used to using her. Maybe it’s all that pent-up frustration toward your dead end job, toward Mina, that makes her clench tighter. That’s now how pussy works; you’re just stretching her out really hard, but you have nothing sensible to conclude with. What you can tell, however, is that you needed this—and you needed it badly.

You’re thankful you closed off the doors and curtains to the classroom, because the last thing anyone needs to see and hear is the sight of Haewon riding you while you both moan about how good the other feels.

“Love this pussy,” you murmur, breathing against her collarbone, wanting a taste of her taut nipple. She has you in a tight bearhug that binds your hands around her waist. “Fuck—so—fucking—tight—the best—”

And that’s all she needed to hear. Every word—every sound—slips from her lips like it hurts, but she’s in total bliss. She moves her hips against the roll of your cock with deep emphasis, like fitting puzzle pieces together, and it sends you. You’re left even more breathless, more in awe at how fucking well Haewon takes your length. As if it was always meant for her.

Curses and praise aside, she’s never one to talk during sex. But then she makes the faintest comment about how your cock fits so snug inside her, and you honestly just lose it.

Once in a while, a certain inquiry is brought up. What’s your favorite thing about me, Haewon asks, when it’s supposed to be the opposite. You’re supposed to give out this very question to your students as a way to improve your teaching style and maybe come off as an approachable authority figure. As expected, it wasn’t helpful in the slightest. She then would suddenly come to you at the most random of times with this particular question, and you’d be preoccupied with numerous things—home life, school activities, the usual—to find an answer.

But right there, right as you spear deep into her tight, needy cunt, is where you figure it all out. It’s all in the little details. Your hand going up and down her arched back. The squelching of her pussy against your cock. The furious sound of your flesh slapping against hers. Her loose, shrilly whines while you bury your face between her chest, begging you harder. Her hands tangled with your hair and nape. All that while she’s bouncing on your lap at such a feverish pace; she’s going to break the chair you’re sitting on.

Before you know it, your tongue has traveled all over the most sensitive parts of her body: nipples, neck, and even pits.

Everything about Haewon is so ridiculous, you can’t believe how much of a challenge she has been for the longest time that you’ve forgotten how easily she folds. Like she’s meant to be used.

But no punishment is suitable enough; no amount of discipline can change her. If anything, it only fuels her goal to thread the needle even further.

“Gonna fucking cum, Haewon,” you hiss against her ear, blurring the line between kissing and biting her collarbone. Using all the strength in your hips, you have her legs spread as wide as they can over the chair, over your thighs. The squirt she releases as she crashes on your lap serves to fan the flames in your cock even brighter. It’s all but inevitable that you’ll pour it all inside her, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

If you had any semblance of a spine, you’d never let her hear the end of it. The idea that her pussy isn’t getting its fair share of seed disgusts her. She needs to learn what boundaries are, and how not to cross said lines. At least there’s one lesson you can impart on her before you split, but you’ll save that for another day, because you cum.

You fuck Haewon so hard, she turns into mush that melts in your grasp. Forget the guttural groan you made; the aftermath is alarming. Her pussy drips with a huge load pooling on the chair and trickling down her thighs. You make sure you bury yourself to the hilt and unload inside her. The evidence is undeniable; from the smell to the sight of clothes and cum, there’s no concealing it—if there was even anything to hide, because your salacious activity could easily be heard anywhere in the building.

And lost in the madness is your train of thought; your body is reeling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you simply idle. Let your cock stay in Haewon’s warmth as long as possible. Let the setting sun bathe her pretty face in that lovely afterglow. Let her slowly recover and realize that you’ve been right all along about everything.

“Sir, you came inside me a lot,” she says, a little over a whisper, trying to take record of your work. Her eyes stay glued to the puddle of cum dripping down her leg, running a finger to taste you.

“For my favorite student, why wouldn’t I,” you tell her, caressing your hand up and down her back. Even through the climax, you never stopped.

The brief, peaceful respite is interrupted by, you guessed it, another phone. This time, it’s not Haewon’s. She moves gingerly bending down, almost tumbling over in an attempt to retrieve your phone from the depths of your pocket. Your only contribution is ensuring she doesn’t bash her head on the floor.

“Well, well, well,” she comments, looking at your phone with a familiar, sarcastic tone before handing it over to you. “Speak of the devil.”

On the screen are two missed calls and one new text, all from none other than Mina herself. A grim reminder of the reality you live in.

The message is as predictable as it reads. She won’t be home till late in the evening, which might as well be dawn of the next day.

“Miss Myoui is getting it. A hundred percent sure.”

She delivers it with such conviction that it might as well be fact. You’d be upset about the very thought—anyone would—but a glance at Haewon gives you an idea. One that leaves her curious.

“Sir? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You can already imagine it: the image of railing Haewon everywhere. On the table, against the wall, under the showers. Maybe if you’re lucky enough, Mina will go through that door and be greeted by the sight of her least favorite student getting fucked by her husband from behind.

You show her the text, and just like that, you’re both one and the same. A look of pride crosses her face, as if she’s accomplished an important milestone—and it’s quite a momentous one.

And what better way to celebrate than inside the comfort of your home.

—————

(A/N: Been down bad for Haewon since December. Also, NMIXX is actually good now! Their latest EP has some bangers, highly recommend Run for Roses and Passionfruit. The setting might be a bit more on the bleaker/less wholesome side, but I hope it's not uncomfortable/upsetting. Thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #nmixx #haewon

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ghouljams · 5 months

Text

Where You Go, I'll Follow tags: cowboy au, Soap x reader, miscommunication, actually zero communication, fluff, apologies, making up, Soap being the best boyfriend, if you run I'll chase you energy Summary: You're used to this dance: Soap wants to see you so he texts you something stupid, you want to see him so you block him, he comes to see you in person to ask you to talk to him. It's a well worn path, and it works surprisingly well, but only when everyone knows what they're doing. (This fic performed in a closed course by professionals, do not attempt in your own dating life)

You stare at your phone, fingers hovering over the unblock button next to Soap's name. It's been a few hours since your last message, you're sure he's sent more. Usually you wouldn't have to wonder he'd be here pinning you to a wall or swiping some little trinket that forces you to unblock him and demand it back. You lock your phone, squeeze your fingers together, and try not to be upset that he's respecting a boundary.

Maybe he just got busy and couldn't spare the time to chase after you. Which is ridiculous, he shouldn't be chasing after you, and it's good that he isn't. This is good. This was bound to happen eventually when he lost interest so it's good that it's happening on your terms.

Your heart squeezes tight in your chest.

He's been busy before and shown up with mud caking his boots and dirt under his nails. He's shown up still carrying a piglet. Shown up in the wee hours of the morning, shown up late at night, shown up, and shown up, and shown up for you. All because you'd stopped texting him, he took it upon himself to say his words in person. He always has to get the last word in, even after you'd blocked him.

So where is he?

He must be tired of you. Tired of chasing after you when you're such a horrible choice. Not a first choice, not even a second choice, hell you would be hard pressed to be a third choice. It's good that Soap's gotten his little joke out of his system and you can go back to how things were before he started chasing you.

You tug your truck door open and stick the keys in the ignition. You- you don't really have a plan here. You'll figure it out when you see him, you just have to see him. Maybe you'll curse him out for fucking with you for so long(for making you think he cared about you). Goose would probably let you get a few punches in before she intervened, she's a good friend like that. Yeah, you'll figure it out when you get there.

Except you haven't figured out shit by the time you pull up in front of the Price family home. You grip your steering wheel tight and bang your head against it a few times. You should go. You shouldn't have even come here. It's pathetic, chasing after a man that clearly doesn't want you. Have you learned nothing?

You conjure up some anger to cover your upset and storm into the house. Soap, predictably is sitting on the couch chatting with Gaz. He sits up straighter when you slam the door and he makes eye contact with you. You go to stand in front of him, his legs spread wide on either side of you and his face blank. He raises a brow like he doesn't know why you're here. Why are you here?

"You didn't come find me," You frown, squeezing your hands into fists. Your nails dig into your palms. Soap stares up at you. Gaz silently gets up, and heads towards the kitchen.

"You told me to fuck off, only so many times a man can be told no before he gets the point." He tells you. You feel your lip wobble a little, your throat tight looking into his eyes. He feels impossibly far from you, despite you standing between his knees. He looks at you like there's a wall between you, something that you couldn't break down even if you tried. Something in your throat stings, and spiderwebs across your chest.

"You always come find me," Your voice breaks on the small hiccup that signals tears are on their way, and Soap's face falls. His hands rush to hold your hips, thumbs soothing against your shirt, his voice soft as he pulls you closer.

"Oh no, no, hen don't cry," He shushes you as you wipe at your eyes quickly, try to maintain your frown around the wobbly pout that's quickly formed. "Am sorry, am here, you found me," He pulls one of your hands from your face and kisses your fingers, his eyes gentle as he watches you, "Am naw goin' anywhere."

"You always come after me," You press, feeling the dam break as tears fall down your cheeks. Soap makes a soft pained noise, and tugs you down onto his lap, hooking an arm under your legs to settle you more comfortably. He cups your cheek, kisses your forehead.

"Ah know pet, am sorry," His voice feels warmer when you push your face against his shoulder, his hands softer where they touch you, "ah should've come to find ya, ya must've been worried." You hum, and curl your legs towards your chest to fit more of yourself in the circle of his arms. Soap rubs your back, soothing as he murmurs assurances. "You know if you want to see me you can just ask," He whispers against the shell of your ear.

"Cringe," You mumble, your mouth against his throat. He hums, and you enjoy the vibration of it under you lips.

"Just wanted ta offer," You can hear the humor in his voice, the understanding, "Hard askin' for things, eh hen?" You don't bother answering him, you both already know that. You can't invite him over so you do the next best thing, and force him to come find you. He always does.

He always will.

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #soap x reader #oc: moon #cowboy!soap #he's not doing any cowboy-ing though #Gaz getting the fuck outta dodge as soon as Moon shows up lmao #he's not going to be involved #except that he's texting birdie about it in the kitchen #gossips the both of them

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Text

blow me like a candle • e. jaeger

Eren was never really a fan of parties or celebrating birthdays at all for that matter but (y/n) knows just the trick to make his special day one worth remembering.

cw: black fem reader, musician eren x influencer reader, oral sex (m/f receiving, he eats ass for like .1 seconds 😭), food play, squirting, toy use, public play, aggressive eren, mentions of car sex, masturbation, choking, overstim, kitchen sex, pet names, cumshot, breeding, (princess, daddy, baby)

wc: 4.1k

📝: y’all know I couldn’t let baby boy’s special day pass without doing something for my fav ship! Hope y’all enjoy. Happy belated to my beloved!

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“And who all did you invite?” “Just a few friends, that’s all.” “Get to naming or I’m not going.”

the expected banter between you and your fiancé had been going on for nearly an hour now. All this amid your preparations and planning for the one day a year that you’d have to all but force him to take it off.

“For real, EJ? It’s your own damn birthday party. How you not gone go?” Smacking your lips in pure frustration at your man. Honestly, you shouldn't be too surprised when dealing with someone so stubborn and ornery. For the three years that you had been together, March thirtieth seemed to be a day of dread rather than enjoyment for the disgruntled musician. Fans had already begun flooding his inbox, comments and mentions with love, adoration and fan edits of the man who brought them a plethora of hits over the years. Some even consider him the sole reason they were even on this planet. Celebrating the life of EJ the Don..you were scrambling all week, planning a party for him in secrecy, hoping to surprise the rapper but with a bit of digging and zero resolve from his assistant, he quickly discovered your plan and voided it immediately. While everyone else was showering him with love and hoping to make his twenty eighth trip around the sun a happy one, Eren was too busy being glued to his next online match and dismissing any and all talk about some extravagant party. Including his own wife to be!

“Because (y/n), it’s pointless. A bunch of people who don’t even fuck with me on a regular day, running in my face and being annoying. Why should I spend my day in a loud restaurant or looking at Jean’s ugly ass mug when I could sit right here, kick my feet up, play some COD…..” His words trailing off while pulling you toward him with a gentle grasp on your wrist. “And eat frosting off your ass. Is that too much for a man to ask?” You’d all but dismissed him, rolling your eyes as he burst into laughter. It was obvious he wasn’t going to make this easy. “I’m serious though, princess. There’s just no use in wasting time or money on something like this. I’m happy right here with you.” At the end of the day, it was his decision. But a last ditch effort at guilt tripping couldn’t hurt! Folding your arms over your chest, (y/n) pushed your lip into a pout, giving him those glaring brown eyes. The ones he could never resist or say no to. Truthfully, you wanted him to have a nice time and gather all of the people who cared about him in one place. For once, let him be the one taken care of..

“I get it, I’m sorry..” “it’s fine, I just rather—“ but before he could finish his sentence, you began in on your little tirade and even threw a few tears in to make it plausible. “I mean, I just wanted you to have a good day, that’s all..I guess it really doesn’t matter.” In the midst of your little tirade, his smile would quickly fade into a look of confusion. Now he felt bad! Here you were planning and expending all of this energy into a gathering, spending your own money and resources to give him an amazing night and he’d rather spend it playing some stupid game. Unbelievable! Refusing to see his baby upset, regardless of his better judgment, Eren released a huff and got up to console you. “Calm down, princess..alright, you win. I’ll go.” Just then, that seemingly somber glare turned to one of pure excitement! “You mean it?! Oh my goodness, I’m so happy!—“ but there was one minor stipulation he wanted to attach to this little acceptance offer. In mere seconds, that deviant grin was back plastered across his handsome face and you couldn’t help but get the sneaking suspicion that something insane was swirling around in that big ass head of his. “One condition.” The only words he uttered to grab your attention. Cradling your waist tightly and running his hand across the lower part of your stomach. “I’ll go to your party, because I know you worked so hard planning it. BUT…there is something you have to do for me..” just then, you’d freeze in his clutch, wondering what exactly this man had in mind. Granted, he would’ve been perfectly content with just you, a blunt and his PlayStation but since you were all but forcing him to participate in this little charade, he might as well be entertained while going and he knew just the trick to doing so! “What is it?…” but alas, you wouldn’t receive your answer right away. Just as you had done for him, you’d let his mind wander and contemplate what could be. Walking off towards the kitchen after parting with a peck to the cheek, Eren just burst into laughter at the thought of his own sinister plot. “ ‘EJ, stop playing. What is it?”

“I’ll tell you just like you told me..it’s a surprise.” And suddenly, you knew the next few days of anticipation of what was up his crafty little sleeve.

it wouldn’t be until the night of his much anticipated soirée that you’d find out just what he was up to! By that time, it was too late and he had surely set you up! Because what other way..what gift would be greater than to force (y/n) into sporting a controlled vibrator for the duration of the event?! Underneath your shimmery designer, thigh length dress and thin pink panties lay a discreetly hidden device..shoved inside of you and controlled by his hands. Even with the promise of wanting to do anything to make his special day the best and just genuinely happy, you couldn’t believe that this was his request! Coupled with the fact that he didn’t want to be around all of these people anyways? You were certainly in for a hell of a night. Forcing him to do social interaction; the one thing he despises most on his birthday…this was karma! So as you sat by his side at Casa Tua..across from a table of his peers as they poured alcohol and sang his praises, he was casually tapping away at his screen, tormenting you with each passing second. That silicone mashed up against your mound and whirled around in your flesh. Tiny shocks of stimulation sporadically hitting your clit. Gifts and wrapped packages surrounded the table, lavender ambience lighting scattered above you and your company as he swirled his thumb pad around and drove up the frequency, making it nearly impossible for you to keep your composure. “..you’re the worst.” “You did say you’d do whatever I wanted.” To which you had no choice but to agree. No matter how flustered you were, clenching your thighs together and chewing at your lip. Everyone around you cackling, bantering among themselves. Meanwhile, you’d keep your hands entangled around his arm, clutching each time he hit another pulse. Trying to shield your face from being spotted. “No need to hide that pretty face..let everybody see how much you’re enjoying this.” Snickering from behind his palm as he gave that small dot another spin and watched you peel over once more; clutching his arm in the process. However, he was unphased and continued sipping at his champagne flute full of Moët. That smirk riddled across his face. He only wanted you to cave so that he could inevitably risk you away but your pride wouldn’t allow it. After having made your little spectacle and pleading the case as to why he needed to be drug out of the house, you were going to pay for this!

“..why don’t you moan a lil’ bit for me, baby? Tell me how good that feels inside of you..” It was at that exact moment, the waiter began dispersing meals around the table and neither of you could focus on the delectable dishes in front of you for the fact that the only thing you wanted was to devour each other! Eren was growing farther aroused and impatient by the second. Wishing he could tear you out of that dress that had your titties looking so juicy stuffed up in it. That made the curvature of your plump ass sit just right and of course, there was that beautiful face…one he wanted to fuck relentlessly until you stained his dick with that sticky gloss. “Or better yet..say the magic words and I’ll make it stop.” All the while taunting you with higher frequencies..whispering in that low deep tone that always drove you mad with lust. Whimpering through muffled lips, (y/n) cradled your face into his shoulder blade and to play it off, he’d coil a hand around your back when the server made his way to your side. “Had a little too much to drink..lightweights.” Chuckling with the man before he walked off. Buying you a bit more time as you rutted your dripping cunt against that toy. Staining the seat of your panties in that slick…a mess he had to see for himself. Luckily for the both of you, everyone was a bit preoccupied with their own side conversations to notice that he was discreetly tugging back your thong and exposing that swollen clit to the cool elements. “…I bet you want to let it out so bad, don’t you? Ride my fingers instead…or better yet…” just then, you’d feel his middle and ring fingers swirling your swollen bud, eliciting a gasp from you. “I can give you this dick. Whatever you want, princess. All you have to do is say it. Don’t be so stubborn..” that smug look had turned into a full blown grin because he was getting an absolute thrill out of all of this. The longer you waited, the further you prolonged your own orgasm. There was no point in pretending you could handle it. “ ‘Ren..” “Say it.” So reluctantly but eventually…you’d cave! In a shrill moan, still cradling his forearm through his white button down, you’d utter the one phrase he was looking for:

“…take me home.”

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*

thirty minutes later

after having abandoned the restaurant and all of your unsuspecting friends, the two of you jetted out of the eatery; his arm cradling you as he carried you from the establishment. From there, his plan was in motion. Funny enough, the two of you had devised your escape plan in the event that you couldn’t hold out; under the guise that you had fallen ill after one too many glasses of liquor. Putting on one hell of an act, so much so, an Oscar should’ve been seated next to his five Grammys. Either way, it worked and once valet wrangled his red McLaren to the forefront of the building, you were out of there! The brief drive home was equally as thrilling as the rush you got from potentially being caught. Whilst he maneuvered the wheel, trying to get you guys home quickly, you’d indulge him from the passenger’s seat; legs parted to either side, facing him whilst playing with that pretty pussy. Gently rubbing on yourself to release that tension building in your body. In the confines of this car, you were free to scream as loudly as possible, say whatever you please. Pumping those digits in and out, creaming all over them as you moaned for the man responsible. Even squirting and drenching his leather interior, which brought a big smile to his face. “You’re so fucking sexy, oh my god…”

so it came as no surprise when you got through the front door of your home, things only escalated…whisking you around whilst making out. Pinning you against the wall with his knee parting your thighs. Eren slid those nimble digits between your folds… whimpering and grunting against your lips. Tugging your top down and sucking on your nipples. Ravaging every inch of your body he could get his hands on..those tattooed fingers pinching, pulling and spanking you as he saw fit. Who needed two hundred dollar dinners when he could devour you as he saw fit? Naturally, it was only fitting that he take you to the kitchen, set you atop the counter and really start the party..no pun intended!

“Open those fucking legs, hurry up.” From the switch of tone in his voice, you knew for certain he was done playing these games. All night, he had been watching you strut in that tight little two piece..teasing him and practically begging for him to get that pussy. How envious he was of that Lush Vibrator being buried deep in your greedy little cunt. He could’ve had it all a lot sooner had you just let him stay home, now..it was time to put his claim on it. Not wasting another second of his precious time, (y/n) parted those thighs as far as you could spread them and held them in place with your palms. Gripping the thick of that ass and staying steady for him. It was a beautiful sight.. “..Eren, baby. I need it so bad. I need that dick..” desperately declaring as you watched him strip himself of his own clothing. “I know, baby. I got you..” Your panties tugged to the side by a finger hooked around the material and heels dangling in the air. Trust, he wanted to fulfill your desire for the both of you but there was one thing he needed before doing so. See, he had plans all night of how he wanted to go about this…the fantasy plaguing his perverted mind for days. With his shirt finally unfastened, he’d toss it to the floor, starting on his belt next as he beelined for the fridge. You already looked absolutely delectable and divine, but this would just set it over the top. When he retrieved his sought after item, you’d smirk and begin laughing when you saw what he had. “First though, let me have a lil’ taste of you.” Brandishing in his hand a canister of whipped frosting, Eren removed the top and tilted it downward, leaving a few little dots on your neck, nipples..along with a trail going down your exposed stomach. Even leaving a few on your asscheeks. Pink confectionery laden across your beautiful dark skin..it was the sweetest treat he could ask for. Bending down, he’d grasp your chin lightly and shove his tongue into your mouth, flinging it around as you engaged in sloppy kisses. It was almost criminal how badly he wanted you..cupping your breasts in your palms, you’d watch him closely as he lowered his head to begin lapping up those tiny piles of frosting. Slowly, he’d twirl his tongue around your perky mocha nipples; softly suckling them off. (Y/N) trailed those freshly done nails through his hair. Those narrowing eyes glaring at him as he glided down your body.

“Mmphm!” Sharply exhaling in reaction to his careful movements. He could tell that you were thoroughly enjoying this little display of foreplay. “I’ve been waiting all night for this..” Slowly but surely swiping up the sugary trail, all the while keeping his gaze fixated on you. It wasn’t until he reached your mound did he pick up that can once more and dot your clit with the same substance. “Let me see your hands, baby?” Cooing to you in that sweet tone as he intertwined your fingers and shifted his focus to your slit, slurping on those delightful juices; stirred up by all the teasing. The mixture of your natural taste and that subtle sweetness of that frosting intermeshed for a delicious flavor. He was in absolute bliss at the moment, enjoying every bit of that body that he had been denied all evening. Because of that, he was going to ensure that he ate your pussy until his jaws locked up. For his own pleasure and you could come, cry and whatever else you felt necessary but this was his right now. “Hnghhh!! ‘Ren…oh shit. Right there..eat this pussy..” He’d continue on, spitting down into those folds and your entrance, being stretched open by his two free fingers. Whilst the two of you held hands, he’d greedily feast, making loud moaning noises and vibrating against your plump lips. Soon, he’d turn his attention to your decorated backside and licked it clean; gently flicking his tongue across your asshole momentarily. By this time, your nectar was trickling down his chin and even to his throat; that bobbing Adam’s apple jumping as he drank in your divine mixture. Eren was so enamored that he didn’t want to come up for air even..only to praise you for doing so good for him. “Keep putting in my face, princess..mmm, fuck..” meanwhile, you had no idea just how hard you had gotten him through the concealment of those pants. Hearing the sounds of your smacking wetness and little voice calling out for him. He’d proceed to tongue fuck and give you insurmountable pleasure, so much so that you reached another orgasm, but it was right before you could make it to a third did he cease and come up for air. His mouth and cheeks eventually stained in that syrupy sex. “C’mere..” demanding in a breathy wind as he clutched your throat and meshed your mouths together.

with the opposite set of digits, he’d undo the button of his black pants and tug his boxers down his waistline. That thick cock; swollen and throbbing with desire for you. “I want you so bad…want you so fucking bad..” by this time, becoming quite needy as he gripped his shaft and drug it across that aching cunt. Glaring with watchful eyes, (y/n) nibbled at your bottom lip in anticipation and Eren had no plans to keep you waiting for long! “..Take it…” “..give me that pussy. Open it up f’r me..” using your fingers to part that pretty slit open and seconds later, his tip made home inside of you.. “f-fuck!” Normally, he’d be gentle and all for going slow..taking his time but after being edged along for teased, he was about to tear your shit up! The initial sensation catching him up a bit until he gained a rhythm and the two of you finally found yourselves in sync. That leg draped over his shoulder and shook as he began to thrust. In and out..feeding you a couple deep ones, only to draw out some of that silky cream. Pumping until he was able to fit half way. “..you gonna let me have this pussy, baby? You can take more, I know you can. ‘S so tight..” baiting you along with that sweet charm, all while choking you out for added stimulation. He didn’t let you take your eyes off of him for one second, wanting to see each of those beautiful reactions. Even when you began to shed a small tear and whimper. “You can take this dick f’r me, can’t you? Let me put that shit in your stomach? That’s the only gift I want..” “..mmmm..yeah. I can take it, daddy. Give it to me!” Begging him to increase his speed and beat your shit sore if that’s what he desired. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long before he hit his stride. You’d find yourself clutching the sides of that countertop, bracing yourself for that brutal pounding. The sounds of your rough love making ringing throughout the room, all that passion and affection coursing between your sweat riddled bodies. “Right there, right there! Please don’t stop, ‘Ren! I’m gonna come.” That much apparent by the tight clutch of your cunt around his shaft. That milky white sheath coating him…but he knew what was coming next and he couldn’t wait to feel it. So much so, he’d massage your clit and bait you on.

“Squirt on this dick then..come all over it..” Coaxing out that sticky rain as he swiped his fingers across your bud and let it spray his lower abdomen. Your body shook violently in reaction to that pent up orgasm. The third one you’d experienced tonight and you weren’t sure how many more you could handle. However, your husband-to-be was going to put it to the test! “Thaaat’s my girl. But you’re not done..I know you got more.” Gritting his teeth and grunting in your ear. Giving you only seconds to adjust before folding you yet again and doubling down, folding you into a bit of a mating press to really pound your pussy. “AHH! Fuck, fuck…” making you yelp in an excessively high pitched voice as your skin smacked and collided in a fury. His entire pelvis soaked in slick as he slammed those full balls against your backside. The two of you were making a beautiful, aggressive, mess…letting him have all of you was more than he could ask for on a day like this! Soon though, you wouldn’t be the only one reaching climatic bliss as you felt him swelling up inside of that tight womb. “Imma—imma nut in that fucking pussy!” “Come in me, ‘Ren! Nut in this pussy, daddy!” Emptying his sack shortly thereafter and letting the remnants spill into you. Both of you releasing ear shattering cries simultaneously.. “..oh my God..” “..oh shit.”

even so, that still wasn’t all he had in the tank! Once he pulled out, letting the pulsating shaft hit the cool air; withdrawing from your sore warmth to give it a break. “..yeah, I need that throat now. Clean me off, baby.” And you were thrilled to oblige! Helping you to the floor, placing you on your knees, Eren positioned himself in front of you and kept that hair reigned back as he let you work your magic. “..you’re so fucking pretty..gone let me fuck this face..” just in pure awe of how gorgeous you looked, despite being put through the wringer by him. With tear stained eyes and running makeup, you’d laugh and ask that he pass you the frosting. Now it was his turn to be devoured and sucked up. The best finish to an already wonderful night. You were so thankful that he whisked you away from that party now! Tilting that canister up, you’d spray a single line across his aching cock and quickly slide your tongue across it shortly thereafter. “Mmmmm..yeah..see how good you taste?” Nodding your head as you began bobbing it back and forth. Cleaning up your mixture of cum and the pink cream splattered all over his lower half. You didn’t even need hands..taking him to the hilt in the back of your throat only moments after beginning. Eventually, you’d start implementing twisting palms and drawing out not only more of his moans but the remainder of that nut as well. “Are you going to come for me?..come all in this mouth?” Fluttering those adorable eyes that made him weaker than he already was. (Y/N) would open your mouth wider, preparing yourself to be drenched in that warm seed. You knew he couldn’t withstand it much longer. That thumping was growing by the millisecond and as you’d twist him around in your palms..”OHHH! FUCK…”

you’d find yourself absolutely saturated in that hot white semen. Covering your face, mouth and titties..to which you’d proudly parade with a wide smile on your face. Wiping it clear from your eyes with his thumb, Eren would lean down and give you the biggest kiss he had mustered all night. He couldn’t believe the aftermath of what you two had created. But you both could do nothing but burst into laughter..

“Damn..kinda went overboard, huh?”

“You think so?” regardless, his happiness was your main concern and giving him the best present a man could ask for. He couldn’t imagine celebrating any other way!..grasping your chin once more, he couldn’t help but to keep showering you with pecks, even after swallowing his cum.

“Hey..happy birthday, baby..” Knowing that dinners, expensive gifts..whatever, nothing else could top this.

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ninadove · 10 months

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So. There’s this show I really hate.

I didn’t even want to watch it, but I was forced to sit through literally all of it because my parents liked it for some reason that completely eludes me. Not only is the plot catastrophically bad and the characters inconsistent — it’s also very, very misogynistic in essence. Just thinking about it now makes me want to chew on the writing team’s bones.

I genuinely have nothing good to say about this show.

So. Do you know how many posts I uploaded to the corresponding tags?

ZERO (0)

Because there’s no point in spending energy on a thing I hate so passionately, and even less in ruining it for other people.

Don’t get me wrong — it’s OK to point out irregularities in writing, and to talk about specific aspects of a story that upset you. But uploading dozens of posts about how you Hate The Thing, Analysing The Thing Is Pointless, Everyone Who Worked On The Thing Is Stupid, and Everyone Who Loves The Thing Is Delusional, is maybe not the genius take you think it is.

It doesn’t make you smarter than everyone else. It just makes you boring.

#This post was written in defense of #miraculous ladybug #Which is getting INSANE amounts of hate right now #But it also applies to #rwby #Especially to RWBY actually #Considering the nature of the criticism around the show #At least:#1. Tag your salt posts #2. Stay off other people’s posts #3. AND ASK BOX apparently this needed to be specified #It’s just politeness at this point #anti rwde #vent

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yangsharperavery · 7 months

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i do find the contrast between body language/nonverbal communication and verbal communication with these two so fascinating.

especially as carmy and sydney navigate each other in a space where there's clearly something that exists between them that one, or both of them, aren't conscious of yet.

as they struggle so significantly with verbal communication, we see the way they use nonverbal communication via their bodies and mannerisms and facial expressions to convey how they feel and what they want.

what sticks out to me is the way that carmy shakes and nods his head when he and sydney are having a serious, intimate or important conversation.

as if he knows himself well enough to know that his verbal agreement or response would fall short so he simply moves his head in affirmation. letting his energy convey the rest.

this is also part of why he uses his gaze and eye contact the way that he does. he's speaking to her without words.

they often stand so close to one another. like... all the time.

in many of their scenes, one could say this is a stylistic or director's choice for the shot but that makes zero sense because the shots with everyone else don't have that level of physical closeness except for some of the obvious kitchen (behind!) scenes. carmy and sydney's closeness is almost tactile even though they only touch a handful of times.

which is why the wall tear down scene is so amusing because they literally had no reason to be in each others face like that.

carmy got in her space, looked at the demo/the guys before he turned back to sydney, but she only moved away from him after they made eye contact and she said "yeah, exactly".

as if it was super normal for him to be that close to her, whether he was looking at her or not.

the under the table moment is incredibly intimate for a number of reasons. they're already incredibly close because there's not a lot of space under there, but not only do they situate and move their bodies within the confines of that space notating physical proximity, carmy reaches out and fiddles with her side of the table, which posits her energetically directly underneath him. not just beside him.

conceptually, that is almost the closest he could be to her without actively touching her.

nevermind that moments later his fidgeting hand starts to quicken when she looks up at him and they have that moment of prolonged eye contact.

again, a form of nonverbal communication practically shouting. she can't see his hand, but we do.

the wordlessness of that particular moment, especially after they had managed to say some of the most vulnerable, affirming and comforting phrases they'd ever uttered to one another up to that point (their best verbal communication yet), is pretty extraordinary.

when they're talking about the veal fat in s1, and she's reaching over her head and says the right answer and he turns to look at her, they're SO physically close.

when they're cooking at his apt and he's cutting tape, he's so physically close to her, his shoulder is practically leaning into hers when she teases him about the chef's whites.

even in the meeting with cicero, if you look at the three of them sitting behind the table, sydney is closer to carmy than nat and carmy has his arm out, mere centimeters from sydney's elbow.

before they start their back and forth about stars, when sydney says "we're going to be better", their arms are practically touching.

even when she's walking out after saying goodnight and carmy gitches, she walks so close to him to leave. his body fully turns to accommodate and follow her energy, she almost literally physically brushes past him.

claire kind of moves out of the way but sydney walks into carmy's space and he moves his focus/attention with her as she exits.

if you watch it happen, he acquiesces to her energy and presence like a human revolving door. again, nonverbal communication.

the doorframe isn't that narrow. she could have easily said whatever polite thing to claire and not gotten THAT close to carmy to say "i'm saying goodnight."

there are a bunch of examples of their physical closeness that doesn't make sense outside of gravitational pull, a desire to be that close to one another and nonverbal communication.

sydney's body language after the under the table moment and before receiving her gift is also a huge tell, even though it's not directed at, or meant to be communicative towards, him. she's clearly impacted by what occurred.

of the two, i think sydney is the closest to realizing that what exists between them is far beyond professional likeness, purpose or partnership.

the way she's obviously trying not to get mad at him when she says "well tell claire thanks then", you physically can see her stuffing something down.

even carmy can see it, he says something about it. sydney actually does this alot with carmy specifically, ayo is so damn skilled at it.

we've seen her get mean or be reactionary with richie, tina and marcus.

but never carmy. even when she walked out on him s1, in the midst of a highly emotionally volatile scene, she didn't raise her voice.

that's why she doesn't argue with or lash out at carmy, even though it's often warranted, she doesn't want to hurt him. doesn't want to make him feel bad. doesn't want to be angry or annoyed with him.

but why? she has no problem being upfront and direct and again, even argumentative if she needs to be. but never with carmy.

to me, it seems like she doesn't want to display too much emotion with or in front of him.

but why? does the range and depth of those emotions scare her? are they messy? are they warranted? are they illuminating?

sydney is very protective of carmy (and of herself emotionally). see how she reacts when richie talks shit or when her father questions her trust in him. or even when nat makes that snide remark after he gets locked in the walk in.

she cares a lot about carmy's emotional and mental fragility and feelings.

when she came back to "get her check" they don't hash it out or fight. he just stares at her, with this unbridled relief that he can't articulate but we all see it! it's so obvious he can't even start speaking right away.

and then he launches into talking about the dining space for a new restaurant and she forgot why she was mad.

it's like when the person you have a crush on does something cute or sweet and the dumb or mean thing they did right before it completely leaves your mind.

none of this is written in the dialogue of this show. it's all nonverbal communication, toward each other or to us, the audience.

#sydcarmy #carmy x sydney #the bear fx #the bear #sydcarmy meta #the bear meta

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the-bitter-ocean · 2 months

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Wanted to write a short writing thing based on @daily-odile doodle they did for @tealgoat in tales of time au! Set Post game so implied references to the full game are under the cut:

< Mirabelle is explaining to you the intricacies of the lore for a new horror book she found earlier today. >

< It had been a while since the two of you were able to have a chat.>

< Spending all of your energy to subconsciously channel a long forgotten ancient type of craft to go back in time repeatedly did your body zero favors. >

< It’s nice to have a different change of pace. >

< Being able to listen to her talk about something new- plot twists you can’t predict, dialogue you haven’t heard.. >

< It’s comforting.>

< It reassures you that you’re still here. That you and everyone around you is still real. >

{“ So far I have a couple of theories of who the ghost haunting the protagonist might be! It could be a long lost lover.. or maybe a secret twin or-“}

< You can feel your vision blur. >

< Why are you so tired? >

< No, you are not tired. You’re focused and present and listening. >

< It’s all different now so you have no reason to be tired! You don’t have the right to zone out. Focus. >

< Mirabelle’s voice melds into static in your ears. You hear soft excited chatters and then silence. >

< You don’t feel like getting up.>

< You close your eyes. >

< You feel like you’re falling. >

< You feel a tug on your- >

<…! >

< no no no no no- >

< You don’t want to go back! You know better now! You can’t you won’t not after everything that happ- >

{“…!! I’m right here! I didn’t mean to startle you! You just looked..scared? So I wanted to wake you up? If that’s okay? Uh-”}

< Oh. A normal tug. On your shoulder. From one of your allies.>

<…>

< You slowly sit up and adjust your glasses. They aren’t damaged, so that’s a win in your books. It’s a hassle to replace them. >

< You take a deep breath in and out. >

< You look over at Mirabelle and smile. >

<“ I’m fine. You can carry on your explanation. What happened next in the story?”>

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 1 year

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SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

Felix has never been one to complain when something is wrong. But sometimes, he needs a gentle little reminder from someone he loves that he's perfect in every conceivable way that matters. And for all the other times, talking anime and school girl skirts with the baby and his favorite noona is just what the doctor ordered.

A/N: For that one nonnie who wanted more JeongLix fluff. I hope this fulfills all your wildest dreams. 💗

(Also, it's canon that if you say Minho's name three times in the mirror, he appears and roasts the shit out of you.)

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, OT8, Skz!pack, Poly!skz, Skz!abo, ot8 x you, ot8 x reader, skz x you, skz x reader, skz imagines, skz reactions, skz scenarios, skz fluff, fluff, Bang Chan, lee minho, seo changbin, hwang hyunjin, lee felix, han jisung, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, y/n

Genre: Fluff

Title: Zero Complaints

“Do you think Yuki honestly didn’t know Kaname was her brother that whole ass time?”

You glance up from where you’re hanging your head over the bed, popping the sucker out from between your lips as you meet Jeongin’s furrowed gaze.

“Yes.”

Jeongin heaves a sigh and tosses aside the finished copy of the manga he was reading, annoyance written all over his pretty features, making you want to laugh.

He’s really going through it.

“But-” Felix points out from where he’s lounging beside you, leaning over to snatch your sucker, as you shoot him a halfhearted glare, even as he smiles innocently at you and sticks the candy between his own teeth. He points to the youngest omega. “-she knew at the end.”

Jeongin scoffs, wiggling out from under the weight of your combined legs, huffing as he goes. “Yeah, but then she still chose him over Zero! And we all know, that man was fucking hot, not to mention a trained killer.”

You laugh, dropping your head back over the edge of the bed as he gets up, watching him upside down as he returns the manga to its proper place amongst the extensive collection on Seungmin’s shelf.

“You say that like it’s another reason she should have picked him.”

“It is!” Jeongin protests heatedly. “Guys with a little bit of psychotic energy and the means to kill you are always the better love interest choice, everyone knows that!”

Felix grins around the stick of your sucker at the clearly irritated baby omega. “You’ve been spending too much time with Hyunjin.”

Jeongin sticks his tongue out at the other omega. “You can’t say shit, hyung, you’re like the fluffiest, softest, most harmless guy I know.”

Felix shrugs and takes a long lick of the sucker. “Guilty.”

“You know who could kill you though-” You reply thoughtfully, sitting up as Jeongin throws himself back on the spacious bed by your feet, looking clearly bummed out by the conversation.

Without a thought, both omegas reply back in sync, “-Minho-hyung.”

“What about me?” Minho stops in the open doorway, a basket of laundry propped on his hip, his dark eyes scanning your trio with something akin to dangerous suspicion, expression unreadable.

Jeongin snickers beneath his breath, flicking his eyes first to you and then to Felix, who is trying to bite back a grin and remain nonchalant as he takes another slurp of the lollipop innocently.

“Nothing, hyung.”

Minho narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t enter the room, taking another step in the direction he was going as he says warningly, “That’s what I thought.”

When he disappears from sight, you all let out a collective sigh of relief and Jeongin instantly falls back on the pillows in a fit of wild, chaotic laughter.

“Fuck, that was close.”

“How does he always just appear when you’re talking about him?” Felix gasps out around his own laughter, sucker held between tiny fingers, as he waves it toward the now empty doorway. “It’s like he has a sixth sense or something.”

“He can smell bullshit a mile away.” You agree with a nod and an amused grin in the omegas direction. “Fucking scary, that one.”

Something thoughtful comes across Jeongin’s face. “Do you think if I asked hyung nicely, he’d dress up as Zero with me for Halloween?”

Felix instantly shakes his head, and you choke out a cynical laugh.

“Not a chance.”

“Nope.”

“Who would you be if hyung was Zero?” Felix asks curiously, eyes sparkling with delighted amusement as he eyes the youngest.

Jeongin crosses his arms over his chest with a huff. “Yuki, obviously. But I’d make the right choice.”

“I’d like to see you in a school girl uniform.” You muse thoughtfully, something wicked flashing across your gaze, as Jeongin snaps his eyes to your own. You arch a brow at his look of shock. “What? I bet you’d be adorable.”

“Adorably sexy.” Felix adds, pointing the almost finished sucker at Jeongin to prove his point.

Jeongin snatches the candy from the older boy’s fingers and pops what’s left of it into his cheek with a glare in your direction.

“I changed my mind.”

“Ah, Innie, don’t be like that.” You coo, biting back a smile as you flop down on the bed so your head is in his lap, pinning him beneath your weight and forcing him to look at you as you reach up to pinch the full skin of his cheeks.

He tries to push you away, but not with enough strength to actually do anything.

You smirk up at him, playing with the stick stuck between his full lips.

“C’mon, I bet we could convince Sungie and Bin to do it with you.”

There is intrigue in his eyes now.

“Fuck.” Felix says in almost a groan beneath his breath, stretching out beside the two of you, open hunger on his pretty features as he stares up at the ceiling, eyes far away. “Can you imagine hyung’s thighs in something like that?”

You watch the bob of Jeongin’s throat as he audibly swallows.

You don’t blame him. Saliva is pooling beneath your own tongue at just the thought.

“Maybe we can convince the whole pack to do a group costume. School girl outfits for everyone.” You say somewhat hopefully, because now that it’s been spoken into existence, you absolutely need to see it come to fruition.

“Fuck.” Felix repeats again, sighing hard, as he reaches up to throw an arm over his face, the skin of his throat flushing pink. “Minho-hyung’s thighs too-”

“You know, if you’re all so desperate to see me, you could just ask.”

“Fuck.” It’s your turn to swear sharply, jerking upright in surprise at the unexpected voice from across the room.

Minho is leaning in the doorway, arms over his chest, a smirk on his lips, eyebrow arched at the three of you.

Felix puts a hand over his heart, and you’re sure it’s pounding matches yours.

“How do you do that, hyung?”

Minho cocks his head, eyes going predatory, and you hear Jeongin swallow again.

“Consider it a gift. Or a threat. Your choice.”

You all stare at him as he backs from the doorway, teeth flashing in a dangerous grin as he disappears from sight once more, words echoing over his shoulder as you hear his feet on the stairs.

“Come find me when you’re ready to pitch your ideas.”

Jeongin lets out the breath he’s been holding.

“Fuck, he’s scary.”

Felix nods in agreement, but you don’t miss the hot flush creeping across his throat in reaction to Minho’s dangerous teasing.

“Yeah, but-” He looks thoughtful. “-’psychotic, kill you energy,’ am I right?”

Jeongin blows out a harsh breath and grumbles somewhat begrudgingly, “Yeah, yeah. It’s fucking hot or whatever.”

You grin and settle your head back into the youngest’s lap once more.

“Now, more importantly, let’s go back to school girl skirts.”

*******

“I’m just saying-think about it! Do ghosts have teeth?”

Beside you, Seungmin lets out a long, irritated sigh, and levels a glare across the table at Jeongin that could scorch earth.

“Shut the fuck up, Innie. This is the last time I ever let you join our study group.”

“No, no, he’s got a point.” Yeosang chimes in, tapping his pencil thoughtfully on his chin, the open book in front of him long forgotten.

You shoot him an openly exasperated look of desperation. “Oh my god, Kang, don’t encourage him!”

Jongho blows a harsh breath out through his teeth where he sits on Yeosang’s opposite side, and shoots both you and Seungmin a dead sort of helpless look.

“You’ve lost him. You’re not gonna get him back at this point.”

“Oh my god.” Seungmin groans, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his temples violently, as if to stall the incoming headache. “We’re all going to fail this exam.”

“Speak for yourself.” Jisung scoffs from the beta’s opposite side, snapping his book closed with an air of finality and a smug grin. “I’m gonna ace it.”

“You’re not even in the class.” Seungmin deadpans, and Jisung shrugs, nonplussed.

“Yeah, but if I were, I’d smoke you all.”

“Absolutely no fucking way would that happen.”

“Okay, beta boy, keep telling yourself that.”

“God, I’m going to throttle you.”

“Oh, hell yeah, I’m into that.”

You glance across the table, away from the betas’ bickering, to where Yeosang and Jeongin are now deep into a debate over the logistics of ghostly dental procedures, and let out a long, resigned sigh.

Fuck, Seungmin’s right. You’re screwed.

“Hey.”

You glance over your shoulder at the deep, accented greeting, and see Felix and Minho approaching your table, duffle bags slung over their shoulders, still wearing their work out gear, damp hair tousled with quickly drying sweat.

Their dance seminar must have just ended.

“Hi.” You respond, giving them a little wave of your fingers, as Felix leans over you, his chin on your shoulder, and his gaze sweeps over what you’re currently studying.

You feel rather than see him pull a face.

“That looks hard.”

“It is.” You reply dejectedly, leaning back into his embrace, as his fingers find the knots in your shoulders and begin to massage gently. You groan and sink further into your chair, rolling your neck as Felix’s small, warm fingers work over your tense muscles.

There’s a headache starting to pound behind your eyes.

You glance to where Minho is breaking up the still arguing betas, across the table to Jeongin and Yeosang, and then complain quietly, tiredly to Felix, “Unfortunately, even after hours of studying, I don’t think I’ve retained anything.”

Felix hums in sympathy beneath his breath, and continues to massage your shoulders, the sweet scent of oranges beginning to curl around you the longer he stands behind you.

It’s nice, it helps the headache that’s threatening, and you feel yourself relaxing the more he continues, like a human stress relief lotion.

Omegas will do that to you.

You tilt your head back and close your eyes, before you ask him, “How was the seminar?”

You hear him sigh and crack open an eye to see his lips pull down into a slight frown.

You sit up straighter, suddenly on high alert.

“Felix?”

He shakes it off and shrugs, giving you a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes as his fingers resume their motions down the center of your spine.

“It was fine. Really. I’m just tired.”

Before you can question him more, San and Wooyoung appear, slapping the omega standing behind you on the back in greeting, their own bags still slung over their shoulders, and Felix plasters on a bright smile for the pair.

“Our pretty pixie boy stole the show like always.” San remarks, as if he can sense what you were just talking about, a grin curving his lips upward as he regards Felix with something akin to pride. “Sure you don’t wanna switch out of kinesiology for dance, Lixie? It’s not too late, you know.”

Felix chuckles, and your wolf relaxes slightly at the familiar sound.

“I’m sure. That was exhausting.”

Wooyoung grins sharply in response. “Good choice. Minho-hyung might kill you if you threatened his throne.”

Felix laughs again, holding up his hands to the pair of friends. “I want no part of the ice kingdom, thank you.”

Minho glares at the four of you over Seungmin’s head, that uncanny ability of his surfacing again, and you offer him a sweetly innocent smile before turning back to the conversation at hand.

“Speaking of- '' You lower your voice and glance between Wooyoung and San, their faces etching into curiosity at your sudden change of tone. You grin mischievously and arch a brow at them. “-how much convincing do you think it would take to get Seonghwa in a school girl uniform, complete with skirt?”

Felix grins, and it's the first time since he arrived that you’ve seen the expression reach his eyes. You make a mental note to check in with him later.

San looks intrigued. “Probably not much honestly.”

Wooyoung looks downright devious. “Why?”

You lean back in your chair. “Oh, just ruminating on ideas for interpack Halloween costumes, that’s all.”

Wooyoung shrugs, unbothered. “I mean, he’s worn something like that for Hongjoong-hyung before, so it probably wouldn’t be much of a stretch to convince him to dig it out of the old closet and wear it again.”

You fake gag. “Ew. Gross.”

San grins, all sharp teeth and bright eyes. “You asked.”

“Yeah, but there’s such a thing as too much information, mate.” Felix says with light amusement, clapping the beta on the back warmly.

San shrugs one shoulder. “All’s fair in love and war.” His expression grows wicked. “And interpack relations.”

Something like shock ripples across Wooyoung’s face, as if he’s had a sudden revelation. His mouth forms a little ‘o.’

“Wait.” His jaw drops and his expression shifts covertly to Minho, who is currently annoying Seungmin by messing up his carefully color coded notes. His voice lowers to a whisper. “Do you think when Seonghwa-hyung and Minho-hyung were dating-?”

He leaves the question open ended, hanging in the air between all of you, like a bomb about to go off that none of you know how to defuse.

“No.” Felix says in slight disbelief, shaking his head, even as Minho suddenly freezes, narrowing his eyes on the four of you from down the table.

“Uh oh.” You mutter beneath your breath, reaching for your textbook and shoving it into your waiting backpack. “Time to go.”

“We should ask him and find out.” Wooyoung is saying, and San is immediately shaking his head, dragging the omega away from the encroaching alpha with a hand slapped over his mouth.

“Absolutely the fuck we should not.” You’re just standing up from the table, reaching for Felix’s hand, when Minho catches the strap of your backpack, yanking you back into him, glaring down at you as his hand migrates to curl around your forearm, fingers digging into your skin and making you wince.

“Oh, hey, Min.” You say, somewhat breathlessly, trying to go for innocence.

You’re not sure it’s working, judging by the look on his face.

His gaze shifts from you to Felix, and then he reaches out and snags the omega, pulling him toward the two of you even as Felix lets out a surprised little squeak.

You’re sandwiched between the two of them now, and the spice of Minho’s amber in your nose makes you want to sneeze.

“Felix.” Minho says in a low tone, staring right at the omega, and you see him fidget beneath his gaze, and you reach conspicuously beneath the edge of his coat to pinch him, warning him silently not to tell him anything.

Felix winces, as Minho reaches out to snake a hand beneath his chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

He knows he can break him. Felix isn’t known for his lies and deception, and for good reason.

“Felix.” Minho repeats, his voice firmer this time, and his fingers dig slightly into the divots beneath your mate’s jaw, making Felix shiver, but clearly not in a bad way.

His scent of oranges spikes in the space between you, making your mouth water.

“What were you talking about?”

Felix flicks his gaze down to you, desperation clear in the dark recesses of his eyes, and then he swallows.

“Nothing, hyung.”

Minho sighs, and without warning, tugs Felix forward roughly, nearly sending him toppling into the two of you. His fingers slide down the omega’s throat, and his expression is thoughtful, as Felix once again shudders beneath his hold.

“Ah.” Minho tsks, letting his gaze sweep over the omega, before he drops it to you, held immobile between their bodies, a smirk curving the corners of his lips. “I’m disappointed, sweetheart. I’d have thought you’d have taught him how to lie better than that.”

You open your mouth to respond, but Minho snakes a leg between your thighs, and all you can manage is a soft gasp at the sudden pressure.

Behind you, you feel Felix freeze.

Minho leans into your space, eyes holding your own, and moves, his thigh creating delicious friction between your own, and you jolt forward, your fingers grasping his shoulders and digging into him as you drop your head, trying to catch your suddenly lost breath.

You manage a glare in his direction, even though your brain is screaming at you for being stupid and stopping this, because you need more.

“Minho, we’re in the library.” You hiss out between your teeth, voice strained, and in response, he rubs you again, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to stop the strangled groan from leaving your lips.

“Oh, I’m aware.” He tilts his head, dark eyes flashing. “But public punishment is just so much more fun, is it not, sweetheart?”

You glare at him, holding his gaze in a silent stare down, and he smirks, before finally dropping your eyes and flicking his attention to the omega standing silently behind you.

“Now. Let’s try this again.” He murmurs, and it takes everything in you to hold still and not use the thigh at your disposal to apply pressure where you need it most.

You won’t give him the satisfaction.

He tilts his head and stares at Felix, a predator appearing in his dark eyes.

“Are you tired, Felix?”

You feel Felix swallow, and then, “Yes.”

Minho smirks. “Very good. Good boy.”

You don’t miss the way Felix shivers at the alpha’s praise, and you clench your hands into fists at your side, trying desperately to ignore Minho’s thigh still pressed against your increasingly wet heat.

“Do you want to go home?”

“Yes.”

Minho hums in approval in the back of his throat, eyes glinting dangerously. “What were you talking about?”

“Seonghwa-hyung in a mini skirt.”

Jeongin appears then, resting his chin easily on Felix’s shoulder, answering Minho’s question without a care in the world, as if he’s completely oblivious to the battle of wills currently happening between the three of you.

Both you and Felix groan simultaneously.

“Innie.”

Jeongin looks suitably baffled, eyes going wide.

“What’d I do?”

Minho arches a brow, looking slightly interested, slightly amused, but there’s not enough in his expression to go off of to give you an answer one way or the other.

He pulls his thigh from between your own and you release the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

He lets his fingers fall from Felix’s chin, but his sharp gaze remains on the omega as he asks, softer this time, “Do you want to tell (Y/N) what happened at the seminar?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Felix swallow, and then he lifts his chin.

“No.”

Minho stares at him for a moment longer, and then nods in response, reaching into his back pocket for his phone.

“Okay.”

He glances between the two of you as he pulls up the brightly lit screen. “Call the rest of the pack. We’re going to that stupid little rundown bar the two of you are so misguidedly fond of. It’s been awhile since we all blew off some steam together.”

Your eyes light up, and you smell Felix’s sudden excitement in the way his scent sharpens.

“Seriously?”

Behind you, Jeongin does an excited little jig.

Minho rolls his eyes, nodding as he holds the phone up to his ear.

“Yes. But hurry up before I change my mind.”

******

“It was a joke, baby. I swear.” Jisung tosses his hands so wide that he nearly knocks over a couple of drinks, Hyunjin still glaring narrowly at him like he’s not entirely convinced he believes the floundering beta.

“You gave my number to Choi Yeonjun freshman year as a joke?”

“I mean, yeah?” Jisung looks around the table as if for support, but you all give him the same blank look, knowing better than to get involved in their little fights.“Why else would I do it?”

Changbin arches a brow between the two as he takes a sip of his beer. “I wasn’t aware you guys knew each other freshman year.”

“Oh, we didn’t.” Jisung waves a hand in dismissal, reaching for his own glass of alcohol. “But Minho-hyung knew Seonghwa-hyung, and I asked him who the biggest prick he currently knew was and he gave me Hyunjin’s name.”

Across the table, Chan chokes on his drink and Jeongin cackles loudly with unbridled amusement from beside you.

“Fuck you.” Hyunjin bites out, tossing back the rest of his own drink as he pushes back his chair to head to the bar for another.

“I’d let you.” Jisung wiggles his eyebrows at him suggestively as he stands, narrowly avoiding being hit upside the head as the disgruntled omega passes behind his chair.

Beside you, Felix lets his head drop onto your shoulder with a heavy thunk and a contented sigh, and you glance over to him, noting the cute red splotches on his cheeks and nose from the sake he’s currently drinking.

Felix is normally touchy on any given day, but buzzed Felix is even more affectionate.

It’s always been on the list of endearing things you love about him.

The conversation between your mates has drifted onto other things around you, and you use the opportunity to press a kiss against Felix’s warm forehead, brushing his hair out of the way as you ask in a low, soft voice, only heard between the two of you, “What happened today, Lix?”

He sighs, and you think he’s going to clam up again, but instead, he burrows closer to you and rubs his nose along the fabric covering your shoulder before he says quietly, “It really wasn’t that big of a deal.”

You angle your body to face him, lifting his chin until he reluctantly meets your gaze.

God, he’s pretty.

“Baby.” You murmur gently, letting your fingers trail the line of his jaw, down the column of his throat, across his scent gland. You don’t miss the way he visibly relaxes at the targeted touch. “If it’s bothering you, then it’s a big deal.”

He drops your gaze, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth, his brow furrowing. You resist the urge to reach out and smooth the expression over.

He doesn’t need you to fix anything right now, he needs you to be patient and wait.

It’s not something your alpha has ever been very good at.

Felix sighs and flicks his gaze briefly across the table to Minho, who is currently listening to something Chan is telling him with a fond, amused look on his face.

“It’s stupid.” He protests halfheartedly once more, but you don’t say anything in response, waiting for him to continue.

Finally, he glances down at his fingers clenched in his lap, and says quietly beneath his breath, “The instructor called me up. As an example. Said I was doing everything perfectly.”

You let out the breath you’ve been holding, and give him a gentle smile, but he still doesn’t meet your eyes.

“That’s good, right?”

“Yeah, but.” Felix blows out a harsh breath between his lips, gripping the fabric of his sweats between his fingers. He shakes his head slightly, and the scent of oranges bitters, putting you on edge. “He called me ‘the perfect omega.’ Kept going on and on about how I have the ‘ideal build’ and the ‘right body for the job’ and ‘my expression was soft and open and exactly how it needed to be for something like this.’”

Ah. There it is.

Very few people outside of the pack know how much comments like that bother Felix. He’s always been regarded by others as ‘the perfect omega’-gentle and empathetic and lithe and soft spoken, swathed in pastels-but like Hyunjin, he’s never just wanted to be seen as a pretty face, a by-product of his subgender.

Of course Minho would’ve instantly picked up on how uncomfortable your shared mate was as soon as the instructor started talking about that shit.

You reach out and slowly, gently unclench his fingers, one by one.

“Baby.” You murmur, and when he doesn’t look at you, you slide a finger beneath his chin and repeat yourself. “Lixie. Look at me.”

He does so, albeit reluctantly, and you tilt your head, studying him, your eyes holding his own.

You see him relax slightly as you begin to radiate calming pheromones.

“None of that is untrue.” You start, and he sucks his bottom lip back between his teeth, even as you reach out and swipe your thumb over the plush skin to free it once more. “But you also absolutely know that none of that defines you either. None of that is even remotely important in making you you.”

The corner of his lip curves up into the start of a small, unconvinced smile.

You clench his fingers tighter between your own, sweeping your gaze slowly across his face.

“Lee Felix is not just ‘the perfect omega.’ In fact, when I think of you, that’s not even a blip on the radar. But do you want to know what is?”

Felix hesitates, and then he nods, and you let out the breath you’ve been holding, squeezing his hands between your own.

“The Lee Felix I know is the only person who can make Minho laugh on a bad day. He’s the only one who knows exactly when Seungmin is too much in his head for his own good and can pull him back out again. The only person I’ve ever seen able to convince Changbin to skip leg day and stay home for snuggles and a movie instead.”

Felix cracks a smile at that, and you feel yourself start to warm with relief from the inside out.

You chuckle, releasing one of his hands to sweep some hair back off his forehead, lingering when you feel how soft the strands are beneath your fingers.

“He’s the single most important person in Hyunjin’s life, the only one besides his moonmate who truly knows what it’s like to only be seen for your pretty face or your label society has given you. He’s also the only person-and I know this for a fact-that Jisung has ever shared his childhood blanket with. Willingly at least.”

Felix laughs, and his eyes shimmer a little, as you stroke a finger down the high arch of his cheekbone, marveling at how smooth his skin is beneath your touch. You trace a line across the constellation of freckles that spatter his nose.

“He’s the only one Jeongin ever lets see him cry, the only person who can pinpoint exactly when Chan is having a bad night for sleep and sneaks into his bed so he’s not alone, and the only person on the whole goddamn planet that MeiMei loves more than me.”

Felix sniffs and wipes a hand across his nose, and you reach up and brush a tear from his lash line before it can completely fall.

“The Lee Felix we all know, and love, is all that and so much more, subgender be damned. And I need you to remember that for me, baby. Always. Promise me.”

Felix nods, sniffing once more, and swipes at his eyes before he downs the rest of the sake in his glass.

His scent is clear now-sweet and crisp and untinged.

Across the table, Minho quickly glances in your direction from where he’s still in conversation with Chan, as if he can sense the shift in Felix’s demeanor for the better, and he arches a knowing brow, a sudden slight lift to his lip that silently praises ‘good girl’ which is clearly meant for you.

Your alpha stops clawing at the pit of your stomach.

Behind you, Jeongin leans into your space, resting the sharp jut of his chin on your shoulder. You can feel the concern for his hyung radiating off of him in waves, the spice of cinnamon filling your nose.

“You okay, Felix-hyung?”

Felix nods again, and lets out a little watery laugh, fixing the youngest with a gentle, affectionate look.

“Yeah. I am now.”

You grin and drain your own glass before glancing at the two omegas you’re currently sandwiched between.

“You guys wanna get out of here?”

Felix nods. “Yes please.”

Jeongin grins deviously, sharp teeth on display.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

*****

“You’re literally so pretty, hyung.” Jeongin comments wistfully to Felix, where he’s currently braiding the older omega’s long hair, still wet from the bath they had just left a few moments before.

You enter the room, pulling down your sleeves and drying your hands after draining the water for them, and arch a brow as you watch the two of them fondly.

Jeongin glances up at you with large, dark eyes. “Right, noona?”

Maybe it’s the lingering warming effect of the alcohol from earlier, or maybe it’s the effect the combined cocktail of their scents has on your body and mind, but whatever the reason, you agree truthfully, fervently, without a second thought.

“So fucking pretty.”

Felix blushes, his tan skin going rosy beneath his freckles, and looks away from your heated gaze, his throat bobbing in a silent swallow.

You settle onto the bed beside them, watching, enraptured, as Jeongin’s long, lithe fingers easily work a perfect french braid into Felix’s blonde hair.

Your gaze drifts to the youngest omega’s side profile, sharp and fox like, and you admit, again without thinking, into the silence between the three of you, “You’re also really fucking pretty, baby boy.”

Jeongin’s fingers falter, and he shoots you a surprised, wide eyed look, as if he’s caught off guard by your honest sentiment.

“Right, Felix?” You echo the youngest’s query from earlier, glancing to the omega currently sprawled between the other’s legs.

Felix nods instantly, tilting his head back to study Jeongin’s slowly reddening face with an almost reverent expression.

“Yeah.”

Jeongin flushes all the way to the roots of his hair, and muttering something that sounds pretty close to ‘shut up’ under his breath, he goes back to playing with Felix’s hair, doggedly avoiding both of your eyes now.

Silence stretches, Felix humming a soft little tune to himself under his breath, and you find yourself watching them again, lost in the way Jeongin’s fingers deftly weave Felix’s hair into intricate patterns, the way that Felix’s shirt-one you vaguely recognize as Minho’s-slouches off his shoulder, revealing the shiny pink skin of his mating mark.

The sight sends a shiver of delight down your spine, your wolf instantly triumphant.

Mine.

“Fuck, I love you.” You say out loud without really meaning to, caught up in the moment, your heart all sorts of stuttered in your chest, your entire body warm.

Jeongin scoffs. “I mean, I would hope so, noona.”

“No, but like-” You fall back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to make them both understand.

Everything inside of you is currently humming with the rightness of this situation.

“It’s the kind of cheesy, sickening love that makes people do stupid things. The sort of love that you hear about in fairy tales, where the prince gives up everything for the princess, or the whole world is righted just by two people finding each other. It’s that feeling you get when your stomach leaps before the edge of a rollercoaster, or the way you feel eating your favorite childhood food that your mom made special only for you. That’s the kind of love I’m talking about.”

You take in a breath, pondering in the lingering silence for just a moment, and when you look at Jeongin, his nose is scrunched in open disgust, his lips pulled into a dramatic grimace.

“God, noona, who knew you got so sappy when you drink?”

“She’s always sappy, even when she hasn’t been drinking.”

Minho appears then, dropping a blanket onto the bed on top of all of you, and there is immediate panic in Jeongin’s eyes as he scrambles to sit up straighter and blurts out, “We weren’t talking about you!”

Minho tilts his head with a predatory look, watching the youngest sweat for a moment, before he replies easily, “Oh, I know.” He motions to the blanket he’s just delivered. “Hyunjin said you were having a sleepover, so I thought I’d bring back the blanket I washed earlier. It’s Lixie’s favorite.” He gives the omega a knowing wink.

You bite back a smile as you watch Jeongin relax just a little.

“Thanks, hyung.” Felix gives the older man a grateful smile and grabs the blanket, raising it to his nose to inhale the scent of laundry detergent.

Minho nods and leaves for the door without another word, pausing in the frame for a moment to say, “Oh, I have seen it by the way.”

The confusion must be apparent on your faces, because his lips curve into the hint of a smirk as he leaves the room as quickly as he came, but not before tossing out casually over his shoulder, “The school girl outfit.”

He disappears, like he hasn’t just dropped a bomb, and Felix shoots you a disbelieving look, eyes wide.

“Fucking-”

“-hell.” You finish for him, nodding slightly, jaw slack.

Jeongin looks lost, glancing between the two of you.

“What? What was Minho-hyung-?”

You move at the same time Felix does, pouncing on the youngest omega as you slap your hands over his mouth, pinning him down and tickling him into submission beneath the two of you.

“Don’t. say. his. name.”

********************************************************************************

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hearts4hughes · 2 months

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ECHOES OF LOVE | MARK ESTAPA

mark estapa x fem!reader

summary: in which reader confesses her love for her best friend— oops.

warnings: angst w/ happy ending, reader and mark both being blinded by love, nothing else!!

author note: my first writing after what feels like forever. oh my goddddd!! i have months of ideas and thoughts for more writings on the way. i haven’t done first person writing in forever, but i honestly love it!!

The University of Michigan had been my dream school since freshman orientation; Umich felt made for me. Yet, it wasn’t the only thing capturing my heart during those college years. Environmental Science class introduced me to Mark, and it wasn’t just about the subject matter. Mark, a walking ray of sunshine, entered a room like a force of nature, captivating everyone with his vibrant energy. Engaging conversations and lively class discussions made Mark the embodiment of an unforgettable college experience. It only took him two classes to claim the seat next to me, uninvited but eventually charming his way into my world.

Amidst my journey at Umich and with Mark, an opportunity to study abroad in Italy emerged. Excitement coursed through my veins, but it was tinged with a bittersweet undercurrent. Studying abroad meant a semester without seeing Mark, and my heart ached at the realization. The palpable truth lingered—I had feelings for him.

The day before leaving for Italy was spent entirely with Mark. We recounted memories, gossiped, and held each other. An emotional undercurrent hinted at something more than platonic love. In a moment of uncertainty and sadness, I confessed my love for Mark. The silence that followed my confession echoed in my ears as he stared at me with wide eyes. I had read the situation wrong, and tears brimmed in my eyes as I stormed out of his dorm.

The next morning, I vowed to leave the hurt and agony in Michigan and treat Italy as a fresh start. Italy became a sanctuary, a place where I could do as I pleased without worrying about the boy who rejected my love proposal. Now, sitting in the small, claustrophobic plane, dread overshadowed my return to the real world. Thoughts of making a scene to ground the plane lingered, as four months of studying abroad in Italy felt like pure bliss—warm weather, Italian boys, and zero drama. However, the sweet sounds of Taylor Swift couldn’t coax the cacophony of my racing thoughts. How to make a 12-hour flight even longer?

MARK: Hope Italy treated you well. We need to talk.

My hands trembled as I reread the message, the digital words carrying a weight that mirrored the turbulence within me. The plane had landed mere minutes ago, and as much as I dreaded my return to Michigan, a strange sense of comfort enveloped me the moment I stepped off the aircraft. As I navigated through the airport’s hustle, Mark’s message echoed in my mind, creating a symphony of worry and anticipation.

The journey from the airport to my dorm was a blur, the cityscape outside the window a mere backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts in my head. The prospect of facing Mark, unresolved emotions lingering like a specter, fueled a mixture of anxiety and a glimmer of hope.

He wants to let me know how he feels. Is that good or bad? What if he found someone else? What if he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore? What if… I mentally stop myself from spiraling down that certain rabbit hole.

With a heavy heart, I approached my dorm building. The door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit room adorned with posters and decorations. The message from Mark burned brightly on my phone, demanding acknowledgment. The empty bed next to mine indicated my roommate Miley’s absence. As much as I missed her, part of me was relieved to be alone. I read the note on my desk written in her neat handwriting. She wouldn’t be home for the rest of the night. Good.

MARK: Where are you? We need to talk.

The urgency in his words heightened the tension, and I hesitated, almost responding, but I couldn't muster up the courage to press send.

MARK: Y/N, if you're trying to ghost me, at least turn your read receipts off.

Shit. I silently cursed the advanced technology of iPhones.

Y/N: What do you want, Mark?

MARK: To talk, we need to talk.

Y/N: Oh, now you want to talk. Seems convenient.

MARK: I'm serious, Y/N.

I scoffed as I read his final text message. Who's he to say when I need to talk to him? I could ignore him for the rest of my life, and it wouldn't even bother me—scratch that; I'd miss him more and more every day.

Y/N: Fine. Let's meet at Logan’s around 7:00.

Y/N: Seriously, Mark, don't make me waste my time.

I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease that settled in my stomach. Logan’s, the pizza place around the corner, wasn’t fancy, but it held a certain charm. Memories of late-night pizza runs with Mark flooded my mind.

I grab my phone, checking the time for the fifth time in ten minutes. Everything feels wrong, from the headache-inducing bright lights to the fact that Mark is ten minutes late. The air inside Logan’s is thick with anticipation, and I can’t escape the nagging thoughts that something significant is about to happen.

The door chimes as Mark finally enters, a disheveled look on his face. I try to read his expression, but his eyes remain elusive. We exchange awkward greetings, and the atmosphere tightens with every passing second.

“Hi,” Mark says, gesturing to an empty booth. The weight of his words hangs in the air as I comply. The vinyl seats are cold against my skin, and the tension in the room is palpable.

Mark fidgets with his hands, avoiding eye contact. I want to break the silence, to demand answers, but fear keeps me silent. Finally, he takes a deep breath, meeting my gaze.

“I didn’t handle your confession well,” he admits, his voice strained. “I panicked, and I’m sorry.”

His words hang in the air, and my heart races with a mix of relief and frustration. The apology doesn’t erase the hurt, but it opens a door to understanding.

“Mark, I know what I did was stupid. I ruined a perfectly fine friendship for my selfish feelings,” I sighed, shame laced my words.

“Y/N,”

“No, Mark,” I interrupted. “You don’t need to pity me, I get it.”

“Wait, let me finish.” He spoke, reaching over and grabbing my hands in his. “Y/N, I didn’t handle what you said well because I was scared. I was scared because I’ve never felt so much for a person.” He huffs, eyes filled with sincerity and care. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you. I can’t even put into words how you make me feel. These four months without you have been pure torture. Ask any of the boys, I’ve been a complete and utter mess.”

His admission hangs in the air, and I feel a whirlwind of emotions—shock, joy, and a lingering sense of pain. The rollercoaster of feelings leaves me momentarily speechless.

“Mark, why didn’t you say something before I left for Italy?” I finally manage to utter, my voice a mix of vulnerability and frustration.

“I was scared too, Y/N. Scared that you wouldn’t feel the same way or that it would ruin our friendship,” Mark explains, his gaze unwavering. “But the truth is, I can’t imagine my life without you. I couldn’t let this continue without being honest about my feelings.”

“Mark, I… I don’t know what to say,” I admit, still processing the whirlwind of emotions. “I thought you hated me.”

“I could never hate you, Y/N/N,” he brought his hand up to your face, caressing your cheek. “I’m stuck with you forever, whether you like it or not.”

I giggled, tears of joy spilling over and flooding my face. “I like that idea.”

#hearts4hughes #nora’s writings 💐#mark estapa x reader #mark estapa #umich hockey #mark estapa imagine

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fjtrickster-blog · 2 months

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Raph Ninpo

Raph's ninpo is something I think that not only gets over looked but also his progress with it in the series.

I was rewatching season one and couldn't help but reflect that everyone makes a big deal about Mikey being the one with all the mystic mojo and stuff when the one who really does the heavy lifting and is shown to grow with his power is actually Raph.

I mean yes Mikey makes his mystic weapon activate first and he clearly has a knack for mystic stuff. However we don't see Mikey really do much with his powers over the course of the series. So I guess in terms of brothers you have Leo actively struggling with his. Donnie having none of it, and Mikey not having any real issues at all.

But here's a point I'd sit on. Mystics and Ninpo are not the same thing. They are similar but I was thinking on this. Ninpo is made out to be a big deal and is about connection and family and just the power of love. And the cool thing? This is hinted at through the whole of season 1.

BY RAPH.

I wish I could find screen shots to add to my points but while Mikey just makes his weapon work and then has zero issues for the rest of the show. Raph has active progression with his powers all tied to specific moments.

Raph catching Leo is the iconic one of this but there are a few littler ones throughout. Raph's giant form actually shows up as soon as the Paper Theif episode. All his brothers are caught by the giant oragami ninja and Raph charges in and actually for a brief moment goes huge. A more interesting point though that gets over looked Raph uses his ninpo once without his weapons prior to season two. During the late fee episode when they find a mutant silver fish Raph throws his basket ball. If you look during this scene the ball glows with his ninpo energy and that's why it goes through the silverfish and the rental machine. This is the only example of the turtles not using their weapons to use their powers prior to the season 2 finale. It's a fun detail I wish was talked about more because it has implications to the debate of "do the turtles need their weapons" to do things.

A small complaint though is how under appreciated Raph's ninpo can be. Donnie's abilities are free realistate, Leo's straight forward (though not really as abused as they could be c'mon folks I know you've played portal), and Mikey is a freaking wizard who can do what he wants.

Raph however gets "big form hulk smash" which is fair but I hate how his ninpo upgrade is like ignored 90% of the time. More than that there are neat ideas where this power does interesting things like when Raph throws himself with his own big form. More over he has freaking SHADOW CLONES! I want Raph to be Narutoing up the scene! Even if they're not solid (which maybe could make them solid we only have ONE SCENE TO WORK WITH!) it's still a fun thing that can make their total chaos fighting style even better.

SOMEONE APPRECIATE HOW COOL RAPH IS!

#rottmnt #Rise Raph #Seriously still mad his upgrade got ignored #I know it's hard to animate all that crazy but why give him that power then?#Ugh #What if he could put aura armor on the others?#That's an idea?#Or weird power combos?#Do the copies have to be of him #WHO KNOWS!!!

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luvieshifts · 1 year

Text

the maze runner maze diversity ideas directly inspired by this @petrichor-idyllic post!!

ive literally been thinking about it nonstop since omg okay BASICALLY its confirmed in the scorch trials movie that there are a bunch of other mazes aside from the glade and group b. since these other mazes are never touched on there are one million and one ways people could go with them in fanfiction in terms of layout, weather conditions, etc. so i wanted to share some!

petri had tons of great ideas (go follow them right NEOW) and im just here to expand on them. 4 the sake of simplicity im gonna call the “gladers” subjects/mazers since we dont really know what theyd call themselves, and im gonna call the “glade” the centre. i am gonna keep calling new kids greenies bc i think its a funny little name + DISCLAIMER i have not read the books and i also do not have the time or energy to rewatch the movies so if any information is off my bad fr

NOT PROOFREAD

MONSTER IDEAS

a maze with birdbox style monsters so they have to navigate the maze blindfolded

a maze where the monsters are deathly afraid of some sort of metal that wicked wont send them enough of to make clothes or armor (at least not enough to keep every mazer safe) so all the people are heavily pierced. greenies come up piercingless and have to sit in the piercing hut (where they keep the metal) for however long it takes them to let the maze piercers do their job because absolutely no shot are they letting any dumbass teenager go anywhere with their rare life saving metal without it being fused to their bodies. the maze record for time a greenie has spent in the piercing hut is 3 full days and the less time you spend in there when you first arrive the more street cred you get

^ the piercer would probably be the maze leader, im picturing someone who at the beginning was the only person that could talk greenies into getting the piercing over n done with and as more came up the maze just filled with people that would only listen to the one person they trusted enough to pierce them straight out of the box.

a maze with underground monsters. you drop something heavy enough and something shoots out of the ground, jaws wide open. they have treestyle type houses, floating bridges connecting buildings. they dont have runner equivalents bc theyre working on building bridges through the maze and its like a no brainer that they cant go anywhere without a bridge. instead of “someone should try surviving the maze at night” its “we should climb the walls” and everyone thinks hes just as nuts

^theyd have a box but wouldnt it be fucking funny if their greenies just fell out of the sky?? they have a little platform right underneath where the greenies and supplies land (they call it ground zero) picturing wicked somehow forgetting to cushion the platform at first and patient zero falls out of the sky and dies on impact

a maze where the monsters arent giant teen eating beasts but deadly insects. one bite of that one and youll vomit up your internal organs, breathe in gas from that one and your entire body will be paralyzed. accidentally step on that one and your foot will swell to the size of a bowling ball and fucking explode. experiment with how your mazers cope with this - maybe everyone wears layers and layers of bee keeping style clothes outside and all the buildings are netted. do they have disinfecting rooms? do they have some sort of poison that takes the insects out? how to they distribute this poison since they cant just pierce it on like the metal maze?

a maze with the hunger games mutt type monster-mutations made out of fallen mazers

a maze where the monsters arent monsters or a threat at all but contain clues or keys thatll help the mazers get out and are notoriously impossible to catch

MAZE IDEAS

on the wiki page for group b it says their maze went vertical at one point - a maze that is completely vertical, their centre (creatively named The Hole) being like a tube just walled in by heaven high maze structures. you look up and at some point the walls give way to an abyss. most of the mazers have given up hope of getting out because it looks endless - or does it? nobody really entertains the idea that the top of The Wall is closer than they think, that the creators have put in a fake ceiling to fuck with them, but the people theyve sent up dont come back down and when the hole is quiet enough they can hear something alive up there and nobody can say for sure that their little village is any worse than what theyll find if they try to leave

hunger games quarter quell type maze where different sections of it have different monsters or obstacles. the sections with the easiest to bypass obstacles have the most complicated puzzle, the sections that are the easiest to navigate have obstacles 10x as deadly

PEOPLE IDEAS

a maze where 2 people come up in the box at a time (inspired by this thomas fic). theyd have names like box-mate or smth for whoever you come up in the box with (i.e thats jeff, he’s clints box-mate) and everyone is really close with their box-mate, platonically or otherwise. i feel like theres alot of cute potential for this idea, like an alby-equivalent talking to aggressive mazers like why dont you go find your box-mate and chill out. go cuddle or something. greenies often feeling weird about their connection w their box-mate (bc who wouldnt??) and long time mazers teasing them about it “oooooh somebodys making eyes at their booox-maaate muah muah muah”

unisex maze (although all these ideas can be unisex) where the number of boys and girls is slightly or very uneven at any given time. people have bets going around that time of the month every month about whether theyre getting a boy or a girl w things like chores and food being traded like currency. the bonfires on greenie day are just celebrations for the winning party

got this idea from petri but someone alone in a maze!!! just completely isolated for however long, not being expected to survive but making it out somehow. have you guys ever read an article or paper on the long term psychological effects of solitary confinement in prisons? of course itd be different but isolation is literally used as a torture method in some places. humans are not supposed to be so alone!! a lone mazer that sleeps by the thinnest part of the walls at night so they can hear the monsters, have some sort of connection to another living thing. a lone mazer that only survives their maze because they know their monsters like the back of their hand after spending endless nights well hidden in the maze just OBSERVING the creatures because it becomes a comfort to them, seeing something outside of themself move by its own free will. a lone mazer that never stops talking once theyre out of the maze because long silence makes them feel like theyre all alone again, a lone mazer that doesnt talk at all once theyre out of the maze because they cant stand the sound of their own voice anymore.

^ petri had the idea of an animal companion and i think that is a wonderful idea!! they have this fic where the reader had a dog and theyre really cute together. go full on disney princess & give your character a bird or a chameleon or a tiger if youre a jasmine guy. a dog or any predatory animal can conceivably help your character escape the maze - give your character a sloth or a koala or just a really lazy cat. give me a lone mazer whos animal companion is dead weight but they dont have the heart to leave them, who keeps their fat cat strapped to their chest like a baby as they fight for their life.

person alone in a maze with a baby. ik this sounds so random but wicked wanting to see the effects of growing up in the maze so they send in a carer, someone that looks after the mazers before theyre sent in. the carer raises the kid angry at whoever has trapped their now adopted child in this torture chamber come to find out they used to be one of them

maze where the subjects are supposed to get injured in some way to force them to rely on one another. a subject being deafened by a banshee type monster, a subject getting a limb amputated by medjack equivalents after getting suddenly and suspisciously sick. they dont spend so much time mapping the maze as figuring out how to get all of them through to the very end because they quite literally cannot make it without every single mazer

a maze where the subjects keep their memories but theyve all been altered. some remember wicked as saviours providing shelter for them as orphaned children, others remember being restrained, poked and prodded, a vague feeling of grief and betrayal that they cant explain. others dont remember wicked at all and insist that the maze is a paradise compared to desert wastelands filled with zombie people and viral disease.

your mazers can react to this in any way shape or form. maybe factions/cliques of people with similar memories form. nobody wants a leader from a different group in charge of the entire maze so they dont have one, there not being any rules that apply to every group in the maze because nobody will listen to eachother. everyone thinks the ones that dont remember wicked are crazy and the anti-wicked group have the most reason to become violent, have been the most violent in the past so everyone thinks theyre psychos. it takes them longer than other groups to get out despite having memory because they all take over different parts of the maze and refuse to share information.

mazers that have access to technology. they can make things like recordings and audios but no way of connecting to the outside world and no information aside from what they put in themselves. they learn to program things and make robots/drones to navigate the maze for them, make intro videos for greenies so they dont have to deal with them. instead of track hoes and medjacks they have groups of people that work on different kinds of technology because theyve learnt to automate most of the stuff the gladers do by hand. some work on exploring the maze, some make weapons, some study the monster corpses theyve managed to get, etc etc.

CULTURE/TRADITION IDEAS

the different ways people commemorate dead mazers!! in the glade they cross out their names on the maze walls and in group Bs maze they like sculpt their faces into the ice. give me a maze that tattoos the names of their fallen, whos oldest mazers have the most ink so it kind of goes without saying that the more tattoos you have the more authority you have. greenies being able to tell clearly whos been around longer based on which names they have tattooed. give me a maze that mounts the weapons of the dead on a wall, a maze with a regular graveyard that the mazers visit on slow days

greenie events!!! give me greenie celebrations like the bonfire we see in the glade, parties or games, feasts to welcome newcomers. give me a maze where the arrival of a greenie is grim, one more mouth to feed, one more lost soul trapped. a maze where everything dims down around that time of the month because another person means another month theyve failed to get out. give me mazes that test their greenies to see if theyre of any use to the group because those that arent are dead weight. a maze that holds Greenie Trials, where you have to complete an obstacle course or survive a night in the maze or complete some obscure challenge and if you cant youre tossed to the monsters.

^bonus points for a gally-equivalent getting to say ominous shit like The Last One Didn’t Make It

TATTOO SUBGENRE

because i dont know what else to do with these

maze where wicked programmed the monsters to respond to some basic specific kind of symbol and the people have it tattooed in very visible places, painted on every hut and wall

maze where the monsters are deathly allergic to some sort of liquid so the subjects tattoo themselves with it

maze where you have to be incredibly light on your feet when navigating the maze so people tattoo maps on themselves.

GROUP B

i know im supposed to be talking about maze ideas not mentioned in canon but group b has so much potential their wiki says that group b doesnt have runners, they literally all just go out into the maze in a giant group, AND that their monsters are out day and night PLUS their maze is a frozen wasteland. i imagine any girls that arent strong enough to withstand everything are like pretty quickly weeded out and only the hardasses that adapted quickly enough were left omg the cultural norms that would form?? theyre all absolutely jacked and if a greenie dies nobody bats an eye cause tough shit. no introduction no transition period you come into the maze with us and dodge airborne monsters or you stay here and freeze to death. the creators do send them medical supplies but over time they start to notice the way the group interacts w eachother so they start sending less to see if they can push it even farther, make the girls have to ration their medical supplies. it works tenfold oh you broke your arm and you want a sling, aris?? rachel got her arm CHEWED OFF by a FLYING MUTANT PTERADACTDOL and didnt ask me for so much as a BANDAID

this is like evidenced on the wiki too multiple girls suggesting they just leave aris to freeze to death or get eaten by monsters in the maze because theyre SUSPISCIOUS of him?? like absolutely unprovoked too thomas had a stung glader accusing him of being at fault for the maze an unconscious girl who came at the wrong time who is apparently going to be the last greenie they ever recieve feverishly gasping his name just so much ammo for the gladers to toss him out and it takes the death of like half the glade and an insane gally to get him where aris was upon arrival. they literally punch aris square in the face immediately after they decide not to kill him bc “its the fastest way to remember your name” like how did you guys realise that??? "fastest way” so you admit there are other ways??? why are you giving all your greenies concussions

GEN

because i dont know where to put these

explore the concept of failed mazes. a desert maze where the subjects couldnt survive on the monthly supplies because they couldnt farm any food on their own because, well, desert. a maze where wicked did something like the memory altering maze, purposefully dividing them but they went too far and the mazers killed eachother off hunger games style

test mazes! have you ever wondered why the mazes operate the way they do? why do they send people up once a month? why are the mazers of all different ages? why not make the centre already stocked with food and buildings so the subjects can spend more time cracking the maze instead of learning how to grow crops?

a maze where they sent all the people up at once and without guidance from more experienced subjects they pretty quickly killed themselves off. a maze where the subjects were too young and werent organising themselves or mapping the maze fast enough, a maze where the subjects were too old and lost hope faster and easier. a maze where the mazers had everything they needed upon arrival and nobody wanted to leave.

AND MANY MORE!!!

IN conclusion make ur own mazes people!!!!! get creative w it there are so many different directions you can take it in!! pls feel free to use any ideas thats what theyre here for i dont need credit but PLEASE tag me id love to see anything that comes from this nonsense!!! nd lmk if anybody wants a pt2 because i had a million half baked ideas that didnt make the cut i am filled to the brim with Thoughts

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wavelikewhat · 10 months

Text

If The Shoe Fits

Pairing: Seventeen Vernon x reader (any pronouns) Summary: You and Vernon are reluctant friends after Seungkwan and his girlfriend invite you everywhere in their attempt to help you get over a breakup. But everything changes when you and Vernon get caught in the rain. Wordcount: 2.8k Content notes: Very fluffy. Reader has a recent breakup (ex-girlfriend left them). Seungkwan is dating an original character (she/her pronouns). No smut but Vernon is shirtless (this should happen more anyway). Genres/themes/appearances: Strangers to friends to lovers. Vernon's bi wife energy. Seungkwan and his gf are meddling in everyone’s lives. Several hikes where everyone wears sunscreen and drinks water. Could be read as idol AU or just AU. A/N: tysm for reading and loving Heartstrings (Woozi) and Bend It Like Mingyu (Mingyu), I really appreciate all the notes and reblogs!! Here is more adorable svt fluff if you enjoyed those :)

Vernon checked the time on his phone. It was only 7:30. Seungkwan said they would pick him up at 7:45, but Vernon didn’t mind being ready early. He sat on the stoop outside his apartment building and watched his neighborhood come to life. A few neighbors said good morning to him or nodded in acknowledgement as they passed.

Finally, a small white car parked in front of him and he saw Seungkwan and his girlfriend Yuna waving enthusiastically from the front.

Behind Yuna, you watched Vernon through the window as he walked toward the car without much of an expression on his face. You raised an eyebrow and looked him over skeptically as he entered the back seat beside you. So this was the person Seungkwan assigned as your chaperone on the hike today?

Yuna passed Vernon a coffee after he buckled his seat belt. He introduced himself to you and you introduced yourself to him, then Yuna took over and chatted with him a bit, thanking him for joining on short notice. This gave you a chance to examine Vernon surreptitiously. You hadn’t met him before and all you knew was he was Seungkwan’s close friend.

You wondered if Yuna or Seungkwan had mentioned the real reason they thought you needed a chaperone: your girlfriend broke up with you a week ago and Yuna did not think you were coping well. But weren’t you supposed to sit at home crying and eating ice cream and binging anime after your girlfriend told you they didn’t want to be with you anymore??

You and your ex-girlfriend had planned this hike with Seungkwan and Yuna ages ago, and instead of canceling Seungkwan found what he believed to be a suitable replacement. You had no idea what to expect from Vernon because all his friends seemed wildly different from each other.

Seungkwan focused on the tricky roads while Yuna talked to Vernon. The reason he called Vernon a few days ago asking him to join the hike was very simple in his eyes: Vernon was quiet companionship when that’s what you needed, and he was a good conversationalist if that’s what you wanted instead. Seungkwan wasn’t sure what you would need today, but for him a strenuous hike with zero discussions was sometimes the best thing to get his mind off things.

Vernon did not know about your breakup. Seungkwan had only said they planned to go as four and now they were three, so could he come join? Vernon didn’t have other plans and he agreed. He liked Yuna and always made time for Seungkwan.

Eventually, Seungkwan parked at the trailhead and everyone gathered their belongings, strapping into backpacks and making sure everyone had sunscreen and water. The trail was medium difficulty that culminated in a view of the mountains, and it wasn’t a very well known trail so you were looking forward to not seeing many people.

Seungkwan and Yuna pulled ahead early on, but both of them looked back frequently to keep you and Vernon in their line of sight. Vernon was behind you and he climbed in silence, which was perfectly fine with you. You didn’t really feel like making small talk with a stranger today so you focused on your footing to avoid tree roots and large rocks.

Whenever you stopped for water, Vernon stopped and drank some water too. You appreciated that he didn’t push past you or ask you to move faster after “wasting time to drink water,” like your ex did. Suddenly, the memory of her saying that to you made you irate.

“Have you ever had someone tell you that drinking water on the trail was a waste of time?”

“Me?” Vernon asked. He was surprised you were starting a conversation after hiking in silence for half an hour, and he was doubly surprised by the emotion in your voice.

“My ex-girlfriend used to say that to me. That’s why I liked planning hikes with Yuna and Seungkwan. They always take pictures when we stop. Were they doing that because of her…?” you wondered aloud, looking up ahead at the duo. At that moment, Yuna glanced back and saw you had stopped. You heard her call out to Seungkwan, and she pulled out her phone to take a photo of you and Vernon.

Vernon laughed. “I think you might be right. She’s a good friend.”

“She really is,” you agreed with a smile.

“How long have you known her?” Vernon asked as you started climbing again.

“Since we were teenagers.”

“That’s like me and Seungkwan.”

“Really? You two seem so different.” You glanced back and nearly tripped on a tree root. The way he was smiling as he talked about Seungkwan was unbelievable. It totally transformed his face.

“We’re different and we’re similar. I’m sure it’s the same with you and Yuna.”

“True. I’m glad she made me come to the trail today. Don’t tell her,” you warned.

“She made you come on the hike? Seungkwan just told me someone had to drop out.”

You laughed bitterly. “Yeah, my ex. She broke up with me a few days ago.”

“Ahh. I’m sorry.”

You hummed in response. You weren’t really sure how you were feeling about everything. The two of you climbed the rest of the way in silence, and the view at the top was definitely worth the sore muscles you would feel tomorrow morning.

Before dropping you off at your apartment later that day, Yuna AirDropped all her photos from the day to everyone in the car. You scrolled through them as you walked up the steps, grinning at all the cute and funny pictures she and Seungkwan had taken on the way up. But Yuna had also caught the moment you asked Vernon about his friendship with Seungkwan. You zoomed in on his incandescent smile, visible just past the back of your head as you looked back at him. All of Seungkwan’s friends definitely had something magnetic about them.

…

Over the next few months, Seungkwan and Yuna started inviting you and Vernon to more things together. You found yourself invited to dinners, random museum outings, and one memorable camping trip where Seungkwan managed to spill soju on all his belongings and had to assemble a truly hilarious outfit out of Vernon and Yuna’s spare clothes. His revenge was to pull on Vernon’s beanie and imitate him randomly over the rest of the evening, leaving everyone crying with laughter well into the night, especially Vernon.

You wondered how Seungkwan had decided that of all his friends Vernon was the one he would pull into this little group. You were starting to appreciate that Vernon left you alone when you weren’t really feeling up to a lot of conversation, yet somehow his brain waves aligned with your weird sense of humor. Every time the four of you were together, you and Vernon ended up cracking up in laughter while Seungkwan stared at the two of you in confusion wondering what could possibly be so funny.

One night, after dinner with you and Vernon, Yuna turned to Seungkwan as he drove her home. “I think Vernon has been really good for Y/N,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Seungkwan asked.

“I think it’s been good for Y/N to get to know someone who didn’t know what they were like as a couple… Someone who doesn’t know their ex.”

Seungkwan nodded understandingly. “Vernon doesn’t make assumptions about people.”

“Y/N said they told Vernon about the breakup.”

“Really?!” Seungkwan exclaimed in shock. “I only know what happened because you told me!”

“Y/N must be really comfortable around him.”

“Do you think…” Seungkwan started, then trailed off.

“What do I think?” Yuna asked.

“Maybe they might be a good match?”

Yuna hadn’t thought about it before, but your personalities and interests did align more often than not. After a few minutes of silence, Seungkwan spoke.

“Do you think Y/N is interested in dating someone new?”

“I don’t know,” Yuna admitted. Her eyes sparkled as she continued, “But I can find out.”

…

“That dinner was so good!” Yuna exclaimed as you all walked into your rental house on Jeju Island. Seungkwan and Yuna had invited you and Vernon to join their weekend getaway, and his family had treated everyone to a huge homemade feast on the first night.

“It was amazing! And your sisters are so funny,” you added.

Seungkwan rolled his eyes. “They’ll never change!”

Yuna laughed and wrapped her arm around his waist. “It was good to see your family again,” she said, looking up at him. She turned to you and Vernon. “I think I’m going to get ready for bed. Good night!” Seungkwan agreed and wished you a good night, following Yuna to their room.

“It’s been a long day,” Vernon said, yawning. “I’m going to shower and go to bed. Is that okay with you?” The two of you were sharing a bathroom for the weekend.

“Sure, I’ll finish up after you’re done.” You settled down on the couch with your phone. Yuna and Seungkwan had plans for the next day and you wanted to look up some things to do. You hadn’t asked Vernon what his plans were, but from getting to know him over the last few months you found he was a pretty agreeable guy who seemed equally content hanging out by himself or out doing an activity with people.

“Bathroom’s all yours,” Vernon called out to you as he stepped through the door.

“Thanks! Hey, what are your plans for tomorrow?” you asked quickly before he could go into his room.

“I was thinking of doing a hike, but I didn’t decide which one. What are your plans?”

“I was just looking up things to do. Do you want to do a hike together?”

“Sure. Want to decide over coffee? I saw a cafe nearby when we drove back tonight.”

“Sounds good.” It wasn’t until this moment that you registered the only thing he had on his body was a towel wrapped around his hips. You found your eyes zipping across the muscles outlining his torso. There was a lot more to take in than you expected.

“Alright, good night,” Vernon interrupted, and he walked into his bedroom and shut the door. You blinked, surprised at how quickly he disappeared.

After he closed the door, Vernon let out a big sigh. When he caught you checking him out, he did not expect his body to respond. But over the past few months, he found himself thinking about you a lot, and he had even wondered if you might be interested in going on a date with him and getting to know him one-on-one, especially since 100% of your encounters had included Seungkwan, Yuna, and now Seungkwan’s entire family. That moment in the hallway was making him start to think you might be as interested in him as he was in you.

That night, you dreamed about your first encounter with Vernon. Everything about that first hike came back to you in vivid detail, especially the moment when his smile had taken your breath away. As you walked to the cafe with Vernon the next morning while making small talk about whether the weather would hold up for a hike, you felt an urge to figure out how to make him smile at you that way he smiled when he talked about Seungkwan.

At the cafe, Vernon pulled up the trails he had been considering and the two of you agreed on a short one-hour hike to the top of one of the mountains on the island. You checked the weather as you walked back to the house.

“It might rain later today,” you said, scrolling through the precipitation report.

“Soon?” Vernon asked, pulling out his phone to look up the weather himself.

“It says 2-3 hours from now, so we’re probably okay.”

“We should probably bring some extra clothes in our backpacks,” Vernon suggested. “I got caught in the rain on a trail a few years ago and I was so annoyed I had to drive in my wet clothes.”

You laughed. “I will definitely pack extra clothes. That must have been miserable!” Vernon told you a few stories from that trip with Seungkwan and some of their friends, and by the time you reached the house you were laughing hard at hearing about their antics.

After a pleasant drive to the center of Jeju Island, you and Vernon started up the mountain. The trail was well maintained, and you saw a few other people climbing as well since it offered a great view of the island from the top. As you recalled, hiking with Vernon was pleasant because he let you set the pace and he stopped without comment whenever you took a break. Unfortunately, after twenty pleasant minutes passed in silence, you found yourself pelted by huge raindrops.

“Let’s turn around?” Vernon suggested from behind you. You nodded and began following him down. It was only drizzling, but it was much safer to go back to the car in case it started raining heavily. Just as you spotted the car in the parking lot, you saw a flash of lightning and heard the rumble of thunder. Suddenly, the skies opened up, and you and Vernon started running to the car through crazy rain that seemed to be coming at you sideways.

“Get in the back seat!” Vernon shouted, holding up the car keys to unlock the car. You followed his instructions without thinking until you both scrambled into the back seat of the rental car, gasping for air and laughing at how wet your clothes had become in the last few minutes.

“Why did you tell me to get in the back?” you asked after catching your breath and drinking some water.

“After I got caught in the rain on that other trip, I had to drive to the airport later that night and the seat was still soaking wet from my wet clothes. It was honestly one of the worst experiences of my life,” he laughed.

“Can you please tell me everything that has gone wrong in your life so I can learn from all your mistakes?” you joked. A huge grin stretched across Vernon’s face and he laughed harder than you had ever seen him laugh before. You felt a rush of pride in your chest for making him laugh that way. It melted into a rush of heat as your eyes drew down from his face and took in the wet shirt plastered across the muscles on his chest and arms.

Vernon calmed himself down rather forcefully (you definitely heard him mutter to himself, “Okay Vernon, calm down”) and handed you your backpack from under the passenger seat where you had hidden it from view. He pulled his bag out from under the driver's seat and combed through its contents to find his dry clothes.

Then he pulled off his shirt, right in front of you.

You froze in the middle of unzipping your bag, totally incapable of fine motor skills while your eyes were graced by the beauty of that body. That body! What?! He looked amazing last night after his shower, but it was even better up close.

Vernon looked up at you at that moment and caught you staring. You had nothing to say for yourself. You had been paying more attention to him and to his attentiveness over the last few weeks. There were a lot of things about him you had started to like a lot. Now you had to add his chest to that list of things.

“I have a question for you,” he said suddenly. “Wait, I can’t say this without a shirt on.” He tugged a dry shirt over himself, and a tiny part of you (okay it was a very major part of you) was disappointed at no longer having access to the abs before you.

Satisfied his shirt was on correctly, Vernon looked back into your eyes and seemed very serious. Your heart raced. “Do you want to go out with me sometime? Just me, I mean. Don’t get me wrong, I love Seungkwan and Yuna. But on the off chance you feel ready to date someone new, I was hoping that could be me.”

You felt a grin spread across your face, and a moment later you saw that same grin mirrored on Vernon’s face. “Yes, definitely,” you replied, and you put your wet arms around his dry shirt and kissed him, pulling him against your rain soaked clothing. Guess he'd have to drive back shirtless after all.

#vernon #vernon fanfic #vernon fluff #chwe hansol #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #seventeen x y/n #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #svt fanfic #svt x reader #svt #seventeen #wavelikewhat #wavelikewhat svt #seungkwan #seungkwan fanfic #seungkwan fluff

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magnoliacharmed · 10 months

Text

Christian's Good Girl

(not my gif!)

18+, Christian Cage x Fem!Reader one shot

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Word count: 2,337

Tags: Angry sex, vibrators, jealousy, hair-pulling, daddy kink, light dom/sub, exhibitionism, oral sex (mentioned), overstimulation

Additional character(s): Wardlow

Summary:

Christian Cage gives you a very special gift. --- Sitting in his lap one evening before a taping of Dynamite, Christian was ready to put you to the test.

“You’re gonna do something for me. Something fun. Something that shows how much you really love me.”

Christian Cage was a tease. He lived to be a jerk who enjoyed the suffering of others. You were starting to think that he gained some kind of life force from it like an energy vampire. That had to be the reason he started to zero in on you in particular. He’d already burrowed deep into the minds of Jungle Boy and Wardlow like a disgusting worm. Then when he got tired of them he dropped them like a bad habit, always on the lookout for his next victim. Lucky you to be just in his line of sight.

It’d only been a few months since you started to fall for his weird psychosexual games. At first they left you confused. You were upset at yourself for not getting angry at him when he gripped his hand on your jaw to turn you to him mid conversation. He held you in place with his sparkling blue eyes, the tips of his fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks. As soon as he did it your train of thought was thrown off the rails. All you could think about was how strong he was— God, he was a lot stronger than he looked. You were as lost as a fawn in the woods with shock in your eyes and an instant submission relaxing your muscles. Yes, you’d be perfect.

It didn’t take long for you to start following him around like a puppy. You were always at his heels ready for any scrap of his attention. But like a puppy, sometimes you were disobedient. It was always on purpose to teach him a lesson, to show him that even though you'd do anything for him, he had to prove himself. Christian could admit that your undivided devotion made him feverish. He loved it when his toys already came ready to play with. Despite your occasionally defiant nature, you were very open to his desires. It was his world and you were living in it.

Sitting in his lap one evening before a taping of Dynamite, Christian was ready to put you to the test.

“You’re gonna do something for me. Something fun. Something that shows how much you really love me.”

You didn’t know what else you could do to show your affection for him. By this point everyone was pretty aware that you were his. The way he left his hand resting on the back of your neck while you talked to other men or the deep, messy kisses he pulled you into before he walked down the ramp were signs enough. What more could you do? Well whatever it was, you’d do it happily.

You shifted around in his lap to face him. Grinding against him while you turned, you wrapped your arms around his neck and blinked at him in that way he liked so much. All innocent and doll-like just to do something disgusting to him immediately following it. The very first time you did it, you dropped to your knees to pull his dick out from his pants and let him push it all the way down your throat. That same sweet look was in your eyes now, that same sweet look as when you were drooling and gagging all over the girth of him.

“Sure daddy, what is it?”

Your hands came to rest on his cheeks. Looking at his beard you came to realize how much you missed feeling it scratch against your thighs. Squirming at the thought of his tongue gliding over your clit, you wished you hadn’t tried to teach him a lesson by being flirtatious with the other wrestlers. For that transgression he punished you harshly— lots of spankings and he wouldn’t eat you out for the indefinite future. Little did you know he missed it just as much as you did.

Christian shifted around to dig in the pocket of his pants. Your eyes widened when he pulled out a bright purple silicon toy. It was curved just the slightest bit with a small raised area close to the top of it. Excitement began to course through your veins at Christian’s next words.

“You’re my good girl, you know that right?”

All you could do was nod.

“No, not good enough. Out loud.”

Christian smacked your backside, the skin exposed due to your short skirt bunching up.

“Yes, daddy.”

“That’s right. So what you’re gonna do for me is wear this little toy tonight, okay?”

Your hands gripped the sides of your chair while Christian leaned you back to get better access to your panties. He pulled up the tight fabric of your skirt to expose your underwear, some delicate lacy affair he had bought for you. Taking care to be gentle, he pulled them down just enough to place the smooth silicone toy right in the seat of your panties. It felt comfortable against you.

“I can control the vibrations of it from my phone. You keep being good and I won’t mess with the levels too much. But if you act up…”

Christian pulled out his phone and opened up the vibrator’s app. Within seconds the thing buzzed to life with a force that almost knocked you out of his lap and into the floor.

“Stop it stop it stop it! I promise I won’t do anything!”

Christian took mercy on you and turned it off.

“I’ll give you a couple minutes to recover. Why don’t you go walk it off? It has a pretty good range. I’ll start it up again soon.” The smile on his face was so easy, it drove you insane. Walking out of the room with your thighs squeezed together, you could have sworn you saw his handsome features already twisted up. This would be just as hard for him as it would be for you.

---

You were wrong. This was way harder for you.

Even though Christian could be a total asshole most of the time, tonight he was being very sweet. He set the vibrations to a nice level, not light enough to be a tease but not strong enough to be uncomfortable. The toy buzzed pleasurably at your clit. You were smiling like the Cheshire cat but otherwise could hold a conversation normally. Christian stayed away from you for the majority of the night pretending as if he wasn’t the one making you feel this good. He’d glance you way every so often to see you squirm or for you to stop midway through a sentence to catch yourself. You were being good.

That was until you started talking too much.

Wardlow approached you at the catering table looking somber. Your hands were clenched around a bottle of water as you took small sips from it. You barely registered his presence next to you when e began to speak.

“Hi there.”

“Hi, honey. Why the long face?”

“Ah well, it’s because I see you’re spending time with Christian now.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s one way to put it. Spending time.”

“I just wanna tell you this ‘cause I’d hate to see him put another person through the pain. He’s a bad guy, okay? He might be treating you well now but he’ll turn on you when he gets bored. Trust me.”

You’d seen it play out at least twice now. The only person Christian cared about was himself. He’d use anyone to make his way to the top and not care how hurt they were after the fact. This thought did itch at the back of your mind sometimes. That was a bridge you’d cross when you reached it.

The vibrator raised a level. It still felt good but now you had to cross your legs. Uh-oh.

Christian saw you from across the large room talking to Wardlow. Anger scrunched up the lines on his face and reddened his skin quickly. Wardlow was trying to taint his newest plaything. Trying to make you see all of his flaws. And from the look on your face, you might seriously be considering whatever garbage he was spewing. He knew the perfect way to stop this right in its tracks.

Leaning over past Wardlow’s wide frame, you caught a glimpse of Christian messing with his phone.

“Wardlow, I really— appreciate! You coming over to warn me… it’s sweet— of you.”

The more you dragged this out the worse it’d be for you. Christian dragged his thumb on the strength slider with every word you spoke. Wardlow’s concern for you was painted plainly across his face, his eyebrows scrunching and his eyes searching yours for an answer.

“I’ve got Christian handled though. You trust me .” You winked playfully and squeezed your legs even tighter, then stomped your foot on the ground. There was no way he couldn’t hear how loud this thing was. Maybe it was just vibrating through your whole body and ringing in your ears.

“Are you okay? You look tense.”

“Yes, I’m doing just fine! Gotta go!” Christian was pissing you off. It's not like you were actively seeking out Wardlow, he came up to you! It wasn’t fair that you had to be punished ‘cause of his nosiness. You figured since you already made him this mad, why not take it a step further?

With deliberate steps forward, you reached up to stand on your tiptoes and kiss Wardlow’s cheek. Peeking over his shoulder, Christian shook his head slowly at you. You were in big trouble.

You ran away in the direction of Christian’s dressing room. Wardlow stood still in a daze at your strange behavior and warm kiss trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

---

As soon as you made it to Christian’s dressing room you collapsed on the floor. You were a panting mess, the toy sending you closer and closer to a mindblowing orgasm that you were sure Christian wouldn’t let you have. About a minute after you fell on the floor, Christian walked in slowly and shut the door behind him. You opened your squeezed eyelids to see him the angriest he’d ever been as he stared down at you with his arms crossed over his chest. Then you looked down and saw the bulge in his pants.

“You’ve got me handled, huh?”

“I'm sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it—“ Your body curled in on itself while you moaned. There was no way this thing could get stronger.

Your eyes flew back open when Christian grabbed your hair to pull you up onto your knees. He held you there while you pawed at your panties trying to move the toy away from your overstimulated clit. Tears began to cloud your vision of him and your scalp started to hurt at his grip.

“You weren’t being a very good girl for me tonight. I don’t think you deserve to come.” Christian sighed and rubbed at his erection, his gaze not leaving you for a second.

“Please!”

“Tsk, tsk. I think I have to teach you a lesson.”

Christian led you up on to your feet by your hair and dragged you with him to a small couch in the room. He took his time to sit down and readjust himself before pushing you back down on to your knees. Finally he let go of your hair to unzip his pants. His cock sprung out already leaking from the sight of you so ready to come. Your mouth began to wrap around it when he snatched your head back again by the hair.

“What makes you think you can have this right now?” Christian grabbed his dick and lightly slapped your cheek with it. There was such a cruel and condescending note in his voice that your own anger bubbled over. It wasn't your problem that he couldn't trust anyone, why should you suffer because of it?

That was it.

“Fuck you Christian, let me come!”

Your whole world was turned upside down when Christian pulled you up into his lap and right onto his cock. One long and tortured moan fell out of you at the feeling of being so filled up by him. The toy finally slid off your clit with all of the movement and you were happy for it. What you really wanted was to feel him inside you. He snapped his hips deep inside your writhing body as you pawed at his face. You’d probably leave a scratch or two, but Christian wore those proudly. Anything to show that he made you feel that good.

“Daddy loves you… even when you piss him off.”

“You’re an evil bastard, I hate you so fucking much!”

The string of profanities you had for him that had been steadily building up all melted away. You could never stay mad at him, not when he fucked you hard like this. Christian wrapped an arm around your waist while he fidgeted around to look for the toy. Placing it gently on your clit while he continued to plunge his length within you, you cried out for him. Your body leaned into his, your breath tickling his ear while he breathed hot into your chest.

“I’m gonna come for you, daddy.” You whispered in his ear all honey-sweet.

Your muscles tightened around him with his final stuttered thrusts inside of you. Christian was pretty sure he was going blind when he released inside of you, the sight of your shaking body making his heart beat too fast. You couldn’t catch your breath as pleasure washed over you, it was just too much. Christian removed the toy from you and grasped for his phone to shut it off. Your body limply fell onto the couch.

“Were you getting jealous of me talking to Wardlow?” You giggled.

“You must be delusional from that vibrator. And I obviously didn’t fuck you hard enough if you’re still able to talk.”

“Mmm, you're such a dick. I love you.”

“I thought you said you hated me?” Christian leaned over to kiss you softly.

“Same thing."

#aew #all elite wrestling #christian cage #christian cage x reader #wrestling #wrestling fanfic #aew smut #wrestling smut #aew fanfic #aew christian cage #magnoliafanfic

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babayagaiscomingforya · 2 months

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ahem *in a shitty, clearly fucked up french accent* hello mr.wick AUGH

rank your top five favorite ships from the franchise!!! :D

Hello mrs. french cun- I mean...

marquis de gramont.

I'm chill with ships in most fandoms I'm in. In the sense of "I see basically every ship as valid even though I have a favorite" and JW is the same. Majority of these are going to be with John, because...well, you know how it is. Gonna start from lowest to highest.

Winston/The Bowery King

These two are John's divorced parents...that's it. Didn't consider them before but the fourth movie gave me so much interaction that I just couldn't stay idle. They're giving me "Divorced parents but when they're together in one room it's like they never divorced" energy. The whole scene of them helping John get ready to face possible death was so wholesome...as wholesome as this franchise can be I mean.

John/Zero

I like this ship just because it's funny. Zero's acting as if he is an obsessed fangirl is sooo funny in the context of organized crime. I don't really imagine them as a normal ship, more like unrequited love where Zero writes self-insert fanfics and John doesn't know that he exists.

Marquis/Santino

Mostly happened because of you and @tobytheeggo. I mean, yeah, I don't think I need to explain much it's two cunty Europeans what else do you need? They're awful for each other. They're the celebrity couple that everyone is like "couple goals" and then turns out they're constantly at war.

John/Santino

I don't know why but these two probably had the most, just, pure sexual tension. It's silent, they're not doing anything in particular but just they way they look at each other and Santino's tone of voice. It just suddenly gets really hot in the room. I mean, c'mon.

- How would you do it I wonder? - My hands. - How exciting.

Their interactions are somehow both erotic and threatening.

John/Caine

I mean...have you seen the fourth movie? I love the bickering, the parallels, the "friends placed against each other by circumstances outside of their control", they embody the dynamics I seem to enjoy most often in other fandoms. Their first fight. Them shit-talking in another language so that Killa wouldn't understand. Them teaming up in the stairs scene. When Caine sits down next to John and cries because it's all finally over. John has a lot of "friends" throughout the whole franchise, but these two are the only ones that made me feel their relationship while watching the actual movie and not after I have already read and created headcanons.

Bonus: My John/Grisha crackship that only I and like two people understand. They're kinda like John/Caine but only add EVEN MORE differences by throwing a blond policeman fuckboy into John's face and seeing what happens.

Okay byeeee.

#john wick #ask

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camcanime · 9 months

Text

When Stars Align

(A Kiribaku x F!Reader fic)

Ever since you were little, all you wanted was to become a great hero. Your parents are both amazing people in your eyes, saving others every day, so why wouldn't you want to be like them? Every great hero has to start somewhere and you've got your eye on U.A. High-school of Japan.

(Chapter 1) Got What it Takes?

U.A.: the super-elite school of Japan for young, aspiring heroes, who want to be the best of the best. Only the most skilled, tenacious, and daring teenagers make it here. This school has produced some of the greatest heroes in the world. It must be pretty cool if so many people talk so highly of it, right? You hope so. You have travelled halfway across the world just to score a chance of getting in, after all. You can only hope that all the hard work pays off. It has been a long and difficult process but, finally, you are here.

With clenched fists and determination glistening in your foreign eyes, you stare down the first obstacle in your wake: the gate to the physical exam. You almost can't believe this is the real thing. It certainly seems a lot more intimidating up close. There aren't many things that worry you, especially when it comes to your quirk and your ability to use it. You have to admit, you have been blessed with a truly wonderful quirk, so why are your palms so sweaty?

Everyone around you is preparing themselves, warming up, and getting in the zone. There are definitely some strong-looking students. You never really took much notice of just how many varieties of quirks there are. With competition such as this, you are beginning to wonder how much of a hard time this is going to be. Snap out of it! Now is far from the time to worry. You need to remain primed and focused if you stand any chance of passing this. With a steadying breath, you close your eyes and mentally go over the rules set in place for the marking criteria.

The briefing entailed that four types of "faux villains", as they were called, are to be expected in this trial. Each villain will be worth different points according to their respective difficulty levels. It sounds easy enough: just beat up some bots using your quirk and rack up enough points to get into your dream school within ten minutes. Easy peasy. Yeah, not so much. Present Mic also detailed that the fourth faux villain variety awards you zero points, merely acting as an obstacle more than anything else. It must be quite a hindrance given the fact that there is only one in each sight.

After what feels like a lifetime, the gates finally open. It's go time. A series of bright, star-shaped constructs take form beneath your feet and betwixt your fingers, sitting comfortably within your palms. They may be no larger than your hands but, with enough of them, you are able to lift yourself from the ground. It is only a few inches in the air but it's a lot faster than running. Not to mention, it will likely be wise to conserve your physical energy for combat and evasive manoeuvers should you not be able to activate your quirk fast enough.

You bob and weave around oncoming students, and it doesn't take long before you encounter your first hurdle - three of them, in fact. You land nimbly on the ground and the stars disappear, leaving you to face the robots that rank with a couple of level ones and a two. Decision time: do you prioritise the higher level, or do you rid of the lower rankings first to reduce the numbers? You choose to favour the latter option and fling a cascade of especially sharp stars their way. The metal skin shrieks upon impact, tearing away and unleashing a gush of sparks from within. One quick turn of your body soon after and you direct double the amount towards the last robot. It takes just one more attack before it blasts out of commission. If you keep going at this pace, victory is sure to be well within your grasp.

Some minutes pass and you can only assume that you have managed to reach the 40s. It's a rough estimate but it's good enough for you at the moment. Unfortunately, fate has other plans and decides that it is time to meddle with your good luck. Flickers of multi-coloured spots pass by your peripheral but you make no effort to stop. You can't stop. There is absolutely no way of telling how many points all of the other students have retrieved. If you stop to take a break now, you might just lose your chance. There isn't much that can be done at this point in time, so you take it upon yourself to listen out for anything that sounds heavy enough to be a robot and aim your stars as best as you can. Scatters of rubble come up to your left and you strike to the best of your abilities immediately. How strange...

That didn't sound like metal.

"Whoa," a gravelly voice bellows, "I can tell you wanna' win but don't take out the competition."

This is a fact that you overlooked. Without your sight, the risk of hitting nearby students is that much greater. How could you be so careless? Not only could someone have gotten seriously injured but you could lose out on points because of your recklessness. That is a consideration taken into this exam, right?

"[I'm so sorry]," you accidentally spill in your native tongue. You swallow before correcting yourself. "I've used my quirk too much, and now I can't see anything. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You hear a laugh, "No, man, don't worry! Lucky for you, I have a pretty indestructible quirk."

What a relief, you think to yourself. Nonetheless, that still doesn't change the fact that you could have hurt him. If it was someone who didn't have a defensive quirk like him, they could have suffered some serious cuts. You don't dwell for much longer when a firm hand lands on your shoulder, followed by that voice again.

"You gonna' be okay? We should probably get you out of the battlefield if you can't see."

"No, no, I'll be fine," you object desperately, shaking your head. "It'll wear off soon."

You expected this mystery person to leave it at that and wish you luck before continuing to get himself more points but he decides to stay. He clearly has a big heart, that much is obvious already. If any of these students deserves to pass, it's him you've decided. You can only hope that this inconvenience doesn't hinder his chances.

When your vision begins to return, you can just about make out smudges of black and red. This guy's face is still rather blurry but you can tell it's the colour palette of his hair and eyes. Is that a small scar on his brow? It's hard to tell. Another colour comes into view, distracting you: green. That can only mean one thing.

"Watch out!"

You are quick to pull the student out of harm's way and your other hand extends, targetting a flurry of bright, iridescent stars at the faux villain. Luckily, you can confirm that it is indeed taken down before your eyes are invaded with kaleidoscope colours once more. Seconds after, the horn blares, signaling the end of the exam. Is that going to be enough? You got so caught up in the mess that you completely lost count. It isn't even a matter of being able to confer with the boy who helped you as you are already being dragged away by the paramedics. Shoot.

You didn't even get his name.

This is the part that is most agonising. You could have been beaten to a pulp during the practical and the physical pain would still hail in comparison to the existential dread occupying your precious time. You have the ability to practise impeccable temperament but the impatience is wearing you down thin. You can talk a big game about your quirk all you want but deep down you're just a canister of anxiety waiting to be punctured and explode. What if the examiners retract points for your reckless mishap? What if you didn't get enough points, to begin with? Did you ruin the other student's chances of getting in? You hope not; he seemed nice. The stewing of these questions has been fermenting and rotting away in your brain since the exam finished. Your downward spiral is cut off to a temporary halt when a resounding knock breaks the silence, followed by a voice.

"[Starshine,]" it calls gently through the varnished wood. "[I made breakfast. You should come and grab a plate.]"

Food is the last thing on your mind but you know that the insistence of your father won't allow you to skip out on the most important meal of the day. Begrudgingly, you peel away from the mountainous cocoon of fluff and trudge out, being sure to drag one of the blankets with you over your shoulders. The man you refer to as 'Paps' smiles endearingly and pats the top of your head as you pass him. He has been awfully distressed about you - both of your parents have. Being a lot softer than his cartoonishly calloused partner, he has a tendency of going over the top in assuring you have everything you need to feel better. It is terribly sweet, of course, but you wish he wouldn't be so concerned, especially considering how much energy he puts into his job. Both of your parents work so hard, they shouldn't have to worry about some measly exam anxiety.

Paps follows your fragile self down the stairs like a hesitant slinky, silently wondering what more he can do to alleviate this pressure that's weighing you down. All contemplation is set aside when the mail for the morning slips past the front door's tongue. Is that...? It is! Your makeshift cape tears away and lands in your father's face as you descend the rest of the way via the banister. You fumble the landing and drop to your knees, scrambling for the letter like a crazed raccoon to a pile of scraps.

It must undoubtedly make for a hilarious sight because you can hear your Paps' laughter come up beside you. "[Well? What are you waiting for? Open it.]"

Yes. Opening the letter is the next step, isn't it? Your entire body is practically vibrating with a mix of nerves and anticipation. Those worrisome thoughts are close to bombarding you into a coma again but you know you need to open it despite your fears. Your fingertips threaten to pale beneath the pressure of your grasp. Just think of it as a bandaid: you just need to rip that sucker off and get it over with. Through bated breath, you scurry back up to your bedroom and close the door. If this is to turn badly, you would much rather be alone for it, much to your Paps dismay. He shall let you be for now but will remain at the ready should you need him.

Prying open the envelope is hardly done with any grace or precision but you can barely withstand your trembling. A disc-shaped ornament tumbles onto the carpet in front of you. That explains the strange shape, at least. The device stares back at you dauntingly and you have to take a deep breath before pressing the little button that will unveil either your demise or your sanctuary. It chirps to life and a hologram projection springs up, revealing the greatest hero this planet has ever known: All-Might. This must be a good sign. There is no way they would get the top dog himself to bring bad news to the students, right?

"It is I," he announces, baring that trademark smile of his. "Well done, (Y/n) (L/n)! As I am to become a teacher at U.A. I have the proud honour of declaring your success in making it in. Congratulations! You have a fantastic quirk, young lady. Now, you certainly had a couple of fumbles during the practical but your ability to prosper again was most impressive. We weren't just examining students on how many points they could get, after all. You earned some hero points saving that young man from that faux villain."

There is a lot to unpack here. The top-ranking hero himself is going to be a teacher? That's amazing! Not only did you get in but he's going to be your teacher as well. This is almost too good to be true. You thought for sure that said occurrence would have lost you points, especially since you got that student into that mess in the first place. It is a guilt you had been bearing on your shoulders this entire time - a weight that is slowly starting to lift with All-Might's words. It makes you wonder how that boy did and, as if on cue, your question is answered.

"Don't worry, (L/n), the young gentleman has also made it into the school," he continues, easing your aforementioned worries. "He earned himself a fair few hero points with the noble deed of checking on your wellbeing. Being a hero isn't just a matter of how many villains you can take down - it's also about doing what is right! Well done to both of you! I have a feeling you are both going to make wonderful heroes someday."

You catch your own smile in the mirror opposite to you once the hologram disappears. Having two wins to hold under your belt is something you hardly expected but you are certainly not going to complain. Any and all previous engagements with your negative psyche are dwindling as you turn your focus to preparing for school. That first day cannot come soon enough.

Getting this done was a mission and a half, let me tell ya'. I lost this first chapter TWICE due to technical difficulties, but we got there in the end. I really hope it's good enough despite the blimmin' torment XD (Also, if there's any confusion, the dialogue presented as '[ ]' is meant to represent characters speaking in English)

Chapter 2

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