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mayhemories · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! Can I request a continuation of Teacher's Pet if you're okay doing it? reader takes the kids on a field trip to see whatever animal/cool thing in the rainforest (up to you) Neteyam and a couple warriors volunteer as chaperones to protect you and the kiddos for safety. He volunteered cuz duty but also saw this as a opportunity to get closer to reader 😈 During the field trip he notices one of the warriors try to flirt with Reader. Neteyam is SO jealous about this.

gif: @world-of-pandora

Teacher's Pet Pt. 2

Anon when I saw this request I nearly passed out bc I thought I had accidentally leaked a part of the plot to this chapter. Wtf great minds think alike <3 hope my vision was satisfying for you!! I'm incredibly anxious about this one not being as good as the first one.

Don’t attack me because this part took so long. I was travelling between continents, have two assignments due and writing multiple works at once 🫡 trying my absolute best here. Some of my tags are working and some are broken! I’m so sorry if you asked to be tagged and it did not work for you - it was not on purpose.

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Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar)

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: Swearing. Reader is slightly harassed/made uncomfortable by a male character (Neteyam doesn’t let it last for long). Neteyam is an adult with adult thoughts, Reader is an adult with adult thoughts, albeit a little innocent (just in her nature).

Words: 3.2k

Author’s Notes: Direct continuation of Teacher’s Pet, you can find part one here ←

Taglist: @lilprettypetite @nyotamalfoy @weasleytwinwheezes @aonungs-tsahik @rainbowsocks @glitterandgoldfinds @bluealiensimp @melsunshine @ussoppl @wondxrgurll @luvlykrispy @myheartfollower @gloryavila @itssiaaax @mashiromochi @punkrockrogers @simpforboys @casiia @neytirqs @oh-austin @eywas-heir

Fic Taglist: @neteyamore @waaakemeeeup @tejas-kris @gardenofvows @nuhteyam @m4nd0l0r @bobojojoba69 @sydhersom @fanboyluvr @humbug5 @viviartsy @izzytheconosieur @dreamybiitch @heaven1oo4 @myheartfollower @agelsully @slythermania @neteyamyam15 @bealone-prm @okaylorrainee @koryianders @uwu-i-purple-you @jackiehollanderr @b-tchymoon @gloryavila @reneyahh

Continue reading under the cut:

It had been a week since dinner with the Sully’s, with your favourite student and her incredibly, incredibly attractive brother.

Neteyam.

His name has been running around your mind, stretching and weaving its way around every thought like a songchord every moment since you left his family home. You could not help but feel ashamed at the thoughts your mind had conjured regarding the warrior, regarding his hands and lips and strong arms. A blush broke out across your face, recollecting the private crevasses of your own mind, feeling as though everyone around you could see, could hear, what you dreamed of.

“y/n!” Neteyam yelled out to you before he could stop himself. He had just come home from rounds, and his visceral yearning for you could not be halted, if he did not see you immediately he probably would’ve ripped the entire village apart until your figure appeared. And how Eywa had blessed him with seeing your face straight away.

You spun, facing him, looking almost shocked that he had found you in the bustle of the afternoon. And, to his delight, he could’ve sworn that a light smile graced your beautiful face, in addition to a light, fading blush.

“Neteyam,” Your voice was so beautiful, so, so, so beautiful. Like a song Neteyam never grew sick of. “Can I help you with something?” You asked, gently. Head slightly cocked. Neteyam couldn’t help himself, his body reacting without his brain, his arm reaching for your own, resting it just above your elbow.

Your entire body felt like it had been set alight. Neteyam’s light grip on your arm made you feel numb, made you feel like you were floating. And how, how, were you supposed to listen, to comprehend anything he said to you?

“No, no, but I was uh-” Neteyam stuttured, he hated how unsure he was around you, how nervous you made him. “I was wondering if I could help you.” He finished.

Yes. Yes, he could. He could help you in so many ways that you wished you could voice to him.

“How so?” You tried to remain professional, remain calm. But Neteyam still hadn’t removed his damn hand and all you could think about was how you wanted his hands. Both of them. Everywhere.

Neteyam let out a nervous chuckle, his hand retreating from your arm, finding its home at the back of his neck. Something that you had clocked as a nervous tick, though you could never work out why someone like Neteyam, a handsome, strong and mighty warrior was nervous talking to you, a simple teacher.

“Tuk let it slip that you and the kids plan to visit the syaksyuk tomorrow,” Neteyam felt his cheeks start to burn. He felt like slapping himself in the face, he needed to wake up, needed to collect himself. His father and brother would laugh at him for this interaction, he knew it. “To go that far into the jungle, alone, looking after twenty-something kids is dangerous.”

You looked down at your feet, and Neteyam felt guilty, felt like he was scolding you. God, he wasn’t much better than his father.

Your mind was wheeling. You and the kids. You and the kids. You knew, realistically what Neteyam had been referring to. Was it so wrong to wish for him to mean something else by it, though? You and our kids. That was what your heart longed to hear one day.

“Would you chaperone us, Neteyam?” You asked sweetly. You tried to catch his strong eyeline, and when you did you felt the warm, flowing feeling pool in your chest. Looking at him was like taking your first breath after emerging from a pond, being around him was like feeling warmth after your marrow had been frozen. He made you feel so, so very alive. Alive and incandescent and important.

Maybe, maybe it was incredibly selfish of you that you used your students as a front, used his sister as an excuse to see him. But you chased that feeling, you sought out his defiblirating presence.

Neteyam felt like he was flying, felt like he was dying. Like he had flown too close to a tree and his actions had finally caught up to him. And here you were, offering him everything he has ever wanted, so simply, like it was nothing at all. Fuck, he loved you for it.

You made a reach for him, your own hand mirroring the placement he had on you only moments ago, desperate for that blood-pumping high.

“Only if you’re not busy of course-”

“Of course. It would be my pleasure-”

Neteyam and yourself had spoken at the same time. Two bashful morons who could obviously not contain themselves in eachothers presence. Well, thats what it felt like to Neteyam, anyway. Despite the fact that you were the most intelligent Na’vi he had anything to do with.

“I can bring a couple of hunters, if you’d like.” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why would he do that? Neteyam can’t help run his dumbass mouth, he had secured the situation and fumbled it within seconds. All he wanted was to have more moments with you, alone. Or alone as one can get with a gaggle of children at your feet.

Not that Neteyam minded seeing a bunch of children at your feet.

And just like that, that beautiful blooming, romanticism errurpted in your chest, it died. You felt naive, you thought that Neteyam was angling at a moment, somewhat, alone. But him being the perfect, golden man that he was, cared genuinely about your safety. Cared about your class’ safety. Eywa damn it, his sister’s safety. All over again, you felt yourself running amock in your own thoughts. Was it not incredibly kind that he would give up his time to chaperone you and your class? He would only offer if he cared. You did not stop the love that unfurled in your chest.

“Thank you, Neteyam.” You offered the man a smile, hoping he would sense your genuine excitement. “That’s extremely generous of you, I know how short on free time you are.”

Neteyam was so, so happy. He felt like crying. He just doesn’t understand how you do it. Neteyam, as if being controlled, like a ghost in his shell, let his hand find yours that laid still on his arm, covering your hand.

Everything was so effortless with you, so right. He did not just feel acknowledged or witnessed. But perceived, you saw him. Neteyam knew he was projecting. All he did know, though, was that he saw you. All he could wish for was that maybe, Eywa willing, you would see him too.

Lo’ak was getting increasingly more pissed off. Watching Neteyam pussyfoot around you was painful. At first, it was hilarious. So hilarious that even his Dad got in on it. Jake found himself leaning against a support beam, Lo’ak a hairsbreadth away from him. The two of them watching his eldest son, watching his baby boy absolutely make a fool of himself.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Lo’ak.” Jake laughed lightly, shaking his head. Lo’ak had heard that sentence alot, usually in regard to his behaviour, but this time it was his father laughing at his older brother and Lo’ak was incredibly thankful he wasn’t on the end of it this time.

“It’s embarassing.” Lo’ak agreed.

Jake sighed. He didn’t realise how much Neteyam lacked in confidence. In the back of his mind, in the deep, dark part that Jake kept hidden, he couldn’t help to wonder if it was his fault that his eldest struggled to express himself.

“Neteyam!”

Immediately your hand flew to your side, a blush exploded across your face and ears, you did not know why you were embarrassed that Jake Sully had caught you and Neteyam out- you were doing nothing wrong, anyway.

But Neteyam’s mirroring blush said otherwise.

“Time for dinner, boy!” As quick as he announced his presence from a few tents away, Toruk Macto was gone, disappeared into the threshold of his own home.

“Bring your girlfriend!” Neteyam’s younger brother, Lo’ak called out. Following his father he quickly made himself scarse. You felt Neteyam grow rigid at the younger boy’s teasing words.

Your blush deepened, and you cursed yourself for turning into a blushing, dumbstruck girl everytime Neteyam was near.

“I’m uh,” Your heart fluttered everytime the precise, calculated warrior stuttured. “I’m sorry for them, they’re just teasing.” Neteyam looked sincre in his apology, but just as embarrassed as you had been.

You laughed, shooing him away. His searing presence had become too much.

“It’s alright, ma Neteyam.” You giggled, you were obviously unaware of what you had just said. Neteyam felt like a hunter going in for the kill with how aware of your words he was. He was enamoured. So fucking in love with you, it was beginning to hurt. “Go, go have a feast with your family.”

You smiled and Neteyam wanted to commit it to memory, etch it into his brain, a permanent reminder of your glowing nature.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Neteyam returned the smile, stalking his way to his family home.

And maybe it was his broad shoulders, or the way his braids moved as he walked. Maybe it was how confident he made you, or how much you wanted him, you didn’t know. But you could not stop the bold streak that only Neteyam could conjure:

“Neteyam!” You called out, the boy spun, halfway home, brow cocked. “It would be an honour to be your girlfriend, you know!” Echoing the words that his brother had teased him with, you decided not to stay to give him the satisfaction of the last word, you waved goodbye before ducking into your own tent.

Neteyam chuckled, like a young boy in trouble. All the way home.

Later that night, while he was trying to find sleep in his private quarters of his family home. Neteyam tossed and turned in his hammock. His thoughts chasing the ghostly figure of you in his minds eye. As he so often did. But this time, words that he would only imagine you saying were replaced with memory.

Ma Neteyam. Ma Neteyam. Ma Neteyam.

God. He wanted nothing more than to be yours. To court you, to mate you, to build a home, create a nest for your eventual tribe of children.

Normally at this point, Neteyam would start to feel guilty, to hold thoughts of you this way in his heart, and dirtier thoughts of you in his head. But as his hand snaked down between his legs, to his throbbing member, Neteyam dwelled on your parting words to him.

It would be an honour to be your girlfriend, you know.

And the guilt did not come for him.

“Children, before we head out to go see the beautiful syaksyuk, I want you all to say a big thank you.” You gestured to Neteyam, and the two other warriors he had conned into chaperoning you and your class. The four adults and twenty-two Na’vi children stood at the precipice of the wild jungle.

“Thank you Ayo’to,” Your class echoed as you placed your hands on the shoulder of the youngest Na’vi warrior that had joined you today, working your way down the line, behind the young men. “Thank you Marek,” you moved along to the shoulders of the next hunter. You found your hands stalling when you reached Neteyam. You went onto your tippy toes, your eyes just peaking over Neteyam’s broad shoulders, giggles rang out from the kids, as one of your hands found Neteyam’s shoulder, the other one wrapping around his taunt bicep.

“Thank you Neteyam.” You said, along with your kids, his honey eyes finding your own and you wished you could live in his line of sight forever.

You pulled away, after leaving your hands a beat too long. You ushered the children to follow you, as your chaperones dispersed themselves around. Smiling to yourself, as you realised that Neteyam bought up the rear, sticking incredibly close to the few children in the back of the group.

So fatherly, so protective, your heart swelled at the sight.

“Neteyam is my brother.” You heard Tuk whisper to another boy in the class, who was watching the man in awe. Smiling softly to yourself, you were so thankful that you had the confidence to accept Neteyam’s offer of protection in the first place.

Neteyam felt the smile plaster itself to his face, as he watched you teach the kids. He felt alive as your tail swished back and forth, happily. As you crouched down to be the same height as your students, to point out flora and fauna, to help them learn and love the gift of nature around them.

He could not help to think how stunning you looked, out here in the morning light of the jungle. How your big, bright eyes glittered when your students answered something right, or engaged in asking questions.

But to his dismay, the two young hunters Neteyam had pulled to help out, noticed your beauty too. And this soured his mood, greatly.

He felt livid as he watched Marek’s trained eyes find their target on your ass. He wanted to punch Ayo’to in his square, stupid face everytime he pulled a large leaf back for you. But, the worst part of it all was that this was Neteyam’s own fucking fault. He offered additional help, he picked these two grunts.

He was incredibly unhappy with his choices.

As you held a slender finger to your plush lips, signaling for the kids to be quiet as you ushered them into a clearing, Neteyam felt guilty for his sudden shift in mood. You were so stunning, so happy. You did not notice how the other two men treated you. You were so focused on the kids, on their education, on their happiness.

Neteyam felt a tug on his hand, Tuk had almost ignored him the whole walk, enraptured with everything you had said.

“What’s wrong Neteyam?” Tuk asked, her voice no louder than a whisper. Neteyam loved his sister, loved her keen eye for her family. He noticed that she shared that keen eye with you, too. Like you were her family, too.

“Shh, nothing, go sit with the others and listen to (y/n).” Neteyam urged Tuk on. The young girl quickly sat in the grass with the other children, their eyes trained on their teacher, despite their surroundings.

That was just another thing Neteyam found himself loving about you. Your ability to hold a room, to command attention without explicitly asking for it. He smiled to himself as he thought it was a great trait for a Tsahik.

“Kids we must be quiet, must be still as we wait for the syaksyuk.” You walked from the front of the class, to the back, watching them as every Na’vi child had their eyes glued to the tree canopy, waiting for any sign of the blue and yellow primates.

“You’re a great teacher.” One of the hunters, Marek, had suddenly appeared next to you, whispering in your right ear. "Maybe you could teach me something, sometime." You blushed at the young man’s comments, but it was not the same blush you held for Neteyam. It was different. You were in discomfort.

“Thank you,” You willed yourself to remain calm, remain professional, in a hushed voice to not scare away the syaksyuk, or be loud enough for the children to hear. “I appreciate that you’ve given time to assist me and my class today.” You kept your words clipped, hoping that your tone and lack of eye contact would push your feelings clearly.

Though you doubt the boy, the man, Marek, you doubted the fact that he cared much about your feelings.

“Is anyone courting you, (y/n)?” You felt the hunter’s hot breat fan across your neck, you felt like his prey, trapped against his chest and an invisible wall of professionalism standing behind your class. You knew there was nothing explicit in his question, outright. But it was the lewd undertones that had you nervous.

Where was Neteyam?

“I do not think that is an appropriate question, Marek.” You wished your words had not fallen out of your mouth, shakily, but they had. They had and now he knew you were nervous.

Where the fuck was Neteyam?

Neteyam was seeing red, was fuming.

Marek had crossed a line getting so close to you, that was a given. But as Neteyam watched the bead of sweat roll down your face, watch as your eyes flicked back and forth in front of you, that was enough.

Silently, as to not interrupt the children’s viewing of the syaksyuk, Neteyam made his way over.

He heard Marek ask about courting.

He heard your curt reply. But between your words he could hear your uneasy nature. He could hear the rising panic.

“You’re excused, Marek.” Neteyam put his hand out to you, relief flooded him as you quickly pulled yourself against his arm and chest, a beat away from Marek and his looming figure.

“But-” Neteyam cut the hunter off, sick of seeing his stupid face.

“I want you gone, now. Be quick and quiet about it.”

You felt like a fool, holding onto Neteyam’s strong hand for dear life. Marek wouldn’t have done anything to you here, not infront of the kids. But it was the fear of it, creeping around in the back of your mind that upset you, nonetheless.

“Yes Sir.”

You watched quietly as Marek fled through the brush of the jungle. Silent like the hunter he was. You watched as he pulled the other young hunter, Ayo’to along with him.

It was you, and Neteyam, and the kids, of course.

“Are you alright, ma (y/n)?” Neteyam asked softly, pulling your back to his toned chest, his chin resting on the top of your head, large, muscled arms snaking around your waist to hold you tightly against him. Protecting you from any harm.

You could not help but to lean into his touch, lean into your love for the man. You knew your brain would pick itself raw over the use of that prefix later, now was for you and him. Now was for your kids and the swinging syaksyuk that had appeared through the canopy.

You rested your hands on top of his own, “I’m alright now, ma Neteyam.” You whispered as the kids began to ooh and ahh at the syaksyuk. Giggling as the primates chattered through the trees.

You allowed yourself to laugh with the kids, allowed your mind to wander to the daydreams you have of loving Neteyam. Allowed yourself to conjure and image of your firstborn sitting on his father’s shoulders, enraptured with the world around them.

You let yourself feed into that dream as you felt Neteyam’s very real lips ghost over your hairline, above your left ear. He left nothing but a thought of a kiss there, and you felt that same blooming in your chest.

“Have dinner with me tonight.” Neteyam gently whispered once more, this time laying a tangible, corporeal kiss above your ear.

You could’ve folded, in half, then and there if it wasn’t for Neteyam’s strong hold.

“Anything you want, Neteyam.” You whispered back to him, cocking your head to look up at him. You noticed the muscle flick in his jaw as he looked ahead, pretending not to see your line of sight. Gently, you placed a small kiss on his jawbone. Featherlight, it could’ve vanished if he wished it to.

You hoped he did not wish it to.

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sminiac · 21 days ago

Text

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡ Bad Miracle | Day 24 of Piwontober !

⋆ Ex Bf!Choi Jiung x Reader

Event hosted by my beloved @kisseobie & @sxfterhearts <3

Prompts — Seduction, Against a wall, Somnophilia.

Contains — Alcohol consumption, saliva consumption, slight exhibitionism, oral, porn with plot, sex in a vehicle, very heavily ‘Nope’ referenced, Jiung being kind of pathetic.

💌 — This is quite a lengthy read which is genuinely my bad, I got so carried away, I just love Jordan Peeles brain. If there’s any consistencies pretend there isn’t, I’ll be making tweaks here and there to this even though it’s already posted, I was just worried abt getting it out haha, thanks :b

“So…slutty Jean Jacket it is?”

Of course Jongseob happens to string together his most unpleasant sounding set of words and absentmindedly spews them out at you, precisely summing up your biggest internal struggle.

It’s like he’s petulantly flicking salt into the gaping deep seated wound of guilt that hollows you out.

Despite your torment, it still eats at what’s left of you for subjecting him to even more of your off-putting behaviour that’s only worsened over the past few weeks leading up to the party. Unknown by him, you’ve been fighting with the same question the entire ride out, it’s been sitting in your mouth, warm and heavy like a bad bite you just can’t swallow.

Maybe you deserve it. Fortunately Seob’s tolerance for your fret without a readily available solution to wash it down, disinfect you of the bile, is astounding—gold medal deserving, even though your plastic display case now feeling more like cardboard box because of your ex’s absence.

Seob is already frequently withdrawn because of his jobs demanding schedule, leaving him socially deprived, added an unhealthy addiction to energy drinks that only makes his screen induced migraines worse.

Funnily enough, with the proclivity for being a cloistered insomniac he possesses the biggest hatred for being alone. Impromptu hangouts are a norm, or—were a norm, especially the late voluntary hours you spent with him watching over the dingy looking bookstore that smells heavily of dried glue and mildewed paper. You haven’t been there in a while, but you didn’t mind how often you were staring at the same ‘Employees favourites!’ end cap that have held the same boring books for the past handful of months that he’s been collecting the same boring bi-weekly cheques.

It’s a different kind of bonding, what the two of you do, one where you don’t feel pressured to constantly entertain the other, which is why there’s a remarkable lack of awkward tension now.

It’s normal for Seob to be spacey once trapped in that busy head of his, full of silent yearning for a position in the lively music store that’s just down the street from his, even with what little room his discontent leaves up there, he doesn’t lack the critical thinking skills that it takes to figure out the foundation of your ulterior motive, which he assumes was the very thing that led to your sudden call for a ride after being so steadfast in your refusal to attend a party that you know fully well he’ll be at.

The fact that Seob grudgingly agreed to your company for the ride here doesn’t mollify your stacking inhibitions anymore than the culpability thats balling up in your throat, keeping your tongue tangled and barred in its enclosure, a strange thing he implicitly feels inclined to shoulder too.

A finger adjusts the strap of your wings that uncomfortably dig into the soft part of your underarm, its already a struggle conducting the sexy inwardly it doesn’t help that he sounds so dejected talking about your version of the large horse hunting saucer.

Flowing light with each sway of your hips the white mini skirt you hunted for is hugging nicely at your hips, while silently you endure the tedious task of having to pull up the thin cheap-feeling socks every few meters you walk, which isn’t something you have to explicitly express your loathing for anyways, he could already tell by the third yank.

But, you look good, even with the excessive effort and inconveniences, you know you do.

All of your details, even down to the pair of red lace panties that shape you in just the right places, is for the sole purpose of what you’re walking into now—your secretive plan, which, if you outright ask Seob, is inherently a horrible idea, but even in all of its horrid glory you still pursue it tirelessly for the sake of having the smooth voiced male to yourself for just another night.

Dead set on getting your turn one last time, the intemperate lengths you went to for your costume would make sure of it. You’d make yourself a spectacle if thats what it takes to have him back in your optics.

Indiscriminately walking out from the shallow line of trees that taper off in thickness the further you come from the main road while actively sexualizing angels of all things, right in front of your squeamish, personification of virginity looking friend is the most anticlimactic, shameful culmination of what is —notably one of your more desperate attempts yet— made to somehow, some way, successfully seduce someone, and subsequently not how Seob envisioned his night out. Never has he ever seen you in something so indecent, so vile in the most watered down, gentle of words.

All of this, for what? Closure? He doesn’t get it, your intentions, the enervating process of breaking up only to then come back? Yeah, all of that and still somehow having the profound drive to do whatever it is you’re up to. He doesn’t fucking get it.

Fictitious or not you believe that somewhere past his denial and shaping of resentment there’s a sliver of him that supports you, in a: it’s just dick, do it! Way.

Besides, you could always do much worse than sleeping with your ex.

Your eyes are still focused on his location and nothing but. Zooming in, flicking out and refreshing the map that Jiung’s idle avatar sits on like some psycho stalker. You’ve been like this, acutely anxious and insufferably inquisitive ever since he parked his mom’s vehicle off the side of the dark secluded road when your map had suddenly gave out and stopped working due to the abrupt cutoff from service, it was in Jongseob’s opinion undeniably foreboding to how the rest of your evening was going to play out, but keeping a handle on his lips would probably be for the best.

With two vodka seltzers already settling into his system that you bravely shotgunned together in the front seat of the silver mini van, he’s already so dreadfully bored that not even his oncoming buzz is enough to make this enjoyable. He sighs a loud antagonizing breath, looking off his shoulder to see the small scattered twinkling mix of orange and purple hues starting to leak through the bushes, a muddled, faint sound of music and drunk laughter following.

Usually he’d be anxious to get to your destination but all he can think about is being home—getting plastered in the safety of his own cluttered room, with you, in comfy pyjamas and within the range of expensive fast-food delivery services instead of having to worry if some asshole with beer induced confidence is enough to get you to strip of that tiny fucking skirt, because when you’re drunk he’s convinced you were a track star in your past life, he hates sports, and he hates a floating drunk just as much as the talkative ones.

“You hear me?” He tsks, pinching at the cheap pair of wings on your back and tugging on it. His fresh bi-coloured hair that you did by hand sweeps with the motion of his suddenly weighted head, falling to the side of the dirt path that you walk, studying your face in the cool toned glow of your screen.

Hoping to catch a glimpse of Jiung, you’re too focused on tapping through the few stories people have posted to care for the small feathers he accidently rips out, leaving a bald spot on your right wing.

You swat his hand away, still cradling your phone. “Slutty…bad, yeah i know, you despise me. But it’s…fitting, isn’t it?”

God, he thinks, if only it were that easy.

He watches as you slide up out of the app, and then promptly tap it back open again, eyes rolling for the umpteenth time tonight “What? The sexualization of a territorial slaughtering alien? You can’t be serious.” Hands stuff further into the pockets of the baggy denim that hangs at hips, a thick braided chain hung off the loops of his waistband, clanking with the dramatic rise.

Who does he think he is? Acting all high and mighty. “You’re the one who speculated that Jean Jacket found OJ worthy of mating with, this is all your doing, boy. And, arguably, your costume isn’t even really a costume but I’m not saying anything about that.”

If you were to ask the rest of the friend group who has all taken a sudden, unexpected interest in the 2022 sci-fi thriller movie —that in your opinion is more of a psychological-thriller than horror— they’d make quite the defensive argument about it, the same way you expect Seob to with his half-assed take on Angel Torres.

“That’s insane, so you want to mate with Intak? ‘Cause that’s what I’m hearing. If you’re so interested I can go grab him for you, or…would you rather take a ride on the cowboy?” He says it to be annoying, he didn’t mean it literally, but whatever he intended or didn’t the offer catches your attention.

Big unsure eyes peer over at him as you hug your phone close to your chest, which he already knows is your only source of heat that’s preventing stiff fingers and chattering teeth. Another thing to roll his eyes about.

“If it saves a horse. You wouldn’t mind finding him from me?” The question comes with an abrupt pause, your feet just as uncertain as your tongue. “I- well shouldn’t we, i mean, how do you think he’d feel if i showed up with you? He was never fond of how close we are, so, should I walk up by myself?” If only you knew of how badly Jongseob wants to call you out for your stupidity right now, to slap your pretty face with both the flat surface of his palm and the back of his hand like they do in the cartoons. Before his lips can even move with the ghost of an insult, an unexpected laugh beats him to the sheer hilarity of your unnecessary complexities. “Wow- no? Thats fuckin’ pathetic, Y/N, I was being sarcastic. You seriously need’ta calm down, you’re not even a virgin and you’re acting like this.” A heavy hand of his reaches out, grinning in a way that makes his tooth poke out from behind his lip as he pats heavily against your shoulder, causing your winged frame to shake.

“No ‘m sorry, that was really harsh. Oh, you feelin’ it yet? ‘Cause I think i am..” At the same time he asks you both come to a sudden stop at the expansive clearing. The lights brighter, the music louder, a blazing fire maintained hot and tall to the left of you.

How did you not realize you were already here? How long ago did the effects of the two cans you knocked back start to kick in? Or, did it kick in?

“Y/N, Seob, you made iiit!” Shit.

Intak, the not-so-chalant ‘OJ’ tries to scoop you up in an awkward three-way hug, just barely do you manage to step back in time to not get lassoed in by his long orange sleeved arms. Obviously a few shots deep he doesn’t seem to notice that he’s only cradling one of you as he sways back and forth, babbling loudly—something along the lines of being glad he has other people to drink with all while leaning his entire weight from one foot to the other and nuzzling the the top of his forehead against Seob’s.

Keeho and Taeyang, a very well decided fit for ‘Emerald’ and ‘Antlers’ are a few paces back, red solo cups in hand, sharing an unfaltering run of giggles over what you assume is Intak’s tendency for being overly affectionate and Jongseob’s constant susceptibility to it. You break off from the two emotional idiots, finding company with the other two who are at least not swaying and going on drunken tangents about how much they love each-other.

Keeho announces loudly, “Y/N, sexy Jean Jacket! I like it.” While wrapping an arm around your shoulder, unhesitant about inviting you in as he’s always done, sticking you right between him and Taeyang who shuffles away a little with a genial smile, allowing you more wiggle room.

The three of you make short conversation, bonding over detailed stories of the two in front of you that were actively wrestling; trying to see who would hit the ground first by aimlessly swiping at ankles. They went at it for a while, Intak’s boyish laughter and Seob’s shrill cackle entertaining you until you started getting so cold that it became a struggle for the sound to come naturally. By the time they calmed down, dry mouthed and winded, you’d finished off the last of Taeyang’s drink that he offered somewhere between Seob doing this and Intak doing that. Unsurprisingly you were the first to offer grabbing sodas and a special refill in thanks for Taeyang’s generosity, it was an unsuspecting card that you pulled, but Jongseob knows you aren’t that considerate, you haven’t even seen Shota yet, a presumed highlight of your night, your personal paparazzi.

You don’t hear the slurred, sputtered out complaints as you quickly make your escape under the poorly strung Halloween themed lights that dangle from one low branch to another along the perimeter of the barren landscape, especially by how quickly the bonfire draws you in like a moth, your motionless body gone cold from standing for so long—you figure that’s where it makes the most sense to be, plus, better scoping ground.

The boys wouldn’t mind a few forgotten minutes as you settle on top of a tree stump. Surely they could wait for you to warm up before returning.

This isn’t a place you’d typically be comfortable by yourself, it only sinks in as you settle. Couples aggressively make out across from you with their tongues and cheeks contorted by the heat, an uncomfortably loud game of beer pong on an unlevelled table that happens just a few feet away, and the boring’s who are only lively when there’s pictures being taken, bright and fast.

Beyond the fires hot flickering light, there’s an old barn, big and dark—much too big to be overtaken by the fire, notably ominous looking from the distance it sits at, something about its unwelcoming nature intrigues you.

We are a creature of habit, even the unforgiving ones, aren’t we? You lean forward, letting your cold cheeks warm in its embrace, squinting, trying to make out any little detail you can from being this far out.

“Y/N?” A masculine voice calls. It should be disgraceful the way you know exactly who it is as soon as the first syllable of your name is pronounced, but you don’t have the spare time to linger on it.

He doesn’t wait to see your face before he proceeds to silently crouch down at your side, coolly granting himself the pleasure of your company without the need of clarity, it almost makes you question how he’s so comfortable and certain of himself for doing it, granted that of in itself is quite the rabbithole.

A colourful can occupies his hand as he bends in his red blazing-like suit, floral embellishments decorating the blazer, sporting a smile under his cowboy hat, white hot teeth the glint of your very demise. “i knew it was you.” He finishes suavely, body planting in your direction but his chin rests on his shoulder, only allowing you the right side of his cheek and jaw.

Spot on, you think. He couldn’t be more like Jupe even if he tried.

An arm is propped to the side of your thigh to keep his rocking weight stable. Eyeing what little he’s lent to your field of view, theres a lingering smile of your own, wondering if he’d also move it closer without a word.

“God. ‘Knew it was you’ don’t tell me you’re a stalker now, Jiung.” It’s endearing, really, your wit smoking off your tongue and he’s only spoken a few words, he loves how you don’t cower under his towering height because of its persistence. “Are you?” Seems your skin has thickened in his absence, too.

It’s sharp, the sensation of his teeth digging into the delicate internal flesh of his lips, pursing them tight as his defined adams apple bobs in his throat. He’s humoured by you. “Mmh not quite. I, can be though, if that’s the kind of thing you’re into now.” You don’t see the way his eyes flicker towards you under the bone white suede of his ridiculous hat, brows raised in a subtle sign of expectance on your end, then again, you can’t see it.

“Is it?”

Your head shakes, an airy almost bashful laugh filling in your wordless mouth, its a different timbre in comparison to the girls he’s encountered previous to your arrival who were fervently nodding as if he had just asked if they wanted a treat when he was dropping vague hints to the unraveling of their revealing costumes. Your wet lips glisten in the available light, smiling that pretty fucking smile he can trace in the cold wrinkles of his pillowcase. “Like.. roleplay? Never thought about it, pervert. What’ve you been getting up to since I’ve been away?” His laugh is fuller than yours as it abruptly escapes, but it’s a shared emotion nonetheless, even if you loathe the way he shares it with you so easily.

“Man, you wouldn’t even believe. Speaking of, do you…aghh, no- never mind.”

You twist, but his position only hardens. A sour ringing in your gut at the implications of his activities. “No, oh my god, no, you can’t do that? Do…i, do i what?”

Out of habit he start toying the silver ring that sits on his ring finger, a swipe of his pink tongue running against the corner of his mouth. It’s stupid, even he’s wondering where the overbearing amount of confidence came from that prompted him to even think of asking you such a thing. But he never learns. Does he? “Do you- i mean, are you into…that kind of stuff?”

A chill crawls up your back, dispersing over your skin, dancing on your spine. “Well, i mean- that’s an awfully personal question, considering we aren’t…” Jiung backs up a little bit, his arm shifting away from your thigh as if he didn’t expect for you to remember that you aren’t dating anymore. “—No yeah, it is isn’t it? You’re right I shouldn’t uh- you shouldn’t answer that, i mean, you don’t need to. Obviously.”

The drinks you’ve kocked back are really starting to build off of one another, so much that you don’t even try to hide the entertainment you consume at his expanse. A laugh makes him feel lighter. “Obviously…I was joking, you already know what makes me tick, right? Don’t get your incredibly red suit all dirty about it.” Panicked, Jiung lifts his arm, looking along his elbow to see a few smudges of tree pitch dragging along his sleeve. “Shit,” he murmurs, desperately attempting to rub it off with dry fingers. “was expensive too.”

The curved brim of his hat is full in your vision, a desperate shake to his frame as he fruitlessly tries to lessen the stain. “Spit on it.” You thoughtlessly suggest while crossing your leg over your other, attention fully diverted from his panic, because thats the pleasure you have of doing now.

Jiung stops suddenly, the top half of his face that’s still well hidden from the angle lowers further from your sight. Utterly clueless he eyes at what little skin you’ve exposed to him. Generally speaking the expanse of your soft looking legs isn’t a lot, but with a sex drive as high and responsive as his, Jiung already feels the switch of pressure in his lower region flip.

‘Spit on it’ he thinks, trying to subtly adjust his waist out of view. Do you know how insane you have to be to say that around him and not mean what he now so badly wants it to mean? His short nails drag over the sticky spots along his arm, redirecting his attention to the ground, for your own sake, for his. “I don’t think that’ll work.” He utters.

This is humiliating, he’s the one dressed as a cowboy yet here you are doing the wrangling, and you don’t even know how good of an arm you have.

His thighs tense under the tightening fabric, fighting the sudden urge to move in a way that’ll satisfy his stirring cock. He can’t fuck his ex-girlfriend, thats not something he does, that would be…deplorable, he’d be despised by your shared mix of friends, but fuck, he’s never wanted to see what those buttons on your shirt would reveal if he were to rip them free, would Seob, the more protective of them all even notice if he took you right in front of the orange light? Would he keep watching if Jiung made you messily fuck yourself on his cock? Your finger taps on the crown of his hat, “Your mouth dry?” You ask.

Jiung’s lips part, but then decidedly shut again as he nods. “Yeah, uhm, really dry, is there any water? ‘m not feeling good.”

Honestly, you should’ve known that the host of the party would’ve had it somewhere you’re not even supposed to be, and that all of the drinks were hidden in the barn so it wouldn’t look suspicious coming to the property with heavy coolers and kegs. The water was left behind thinking it wouldn’t be important enough, nor worth the struggle of trudging through sharp dead grass to retrieve it.

You set out towards the ominous building, a quieter volume than you assumed is shared in the passing stroll, the few words that you do exchange are fluid, amiable in short, and enough for you to successfully rock your weight into every divot in the hard-to-see ground. Your ankles have a much easier time when Jiung intently takes your arm around his, making you hold onto him with an assertive hand, you feel the way it effectively causes your dilapidated barrier to crumble under his touch, the frail support beams of your silence that you’ve been silently trying to uphold comes crashing down just as fast as he links into you.

He knows just as well as you that it’ll only lead to more of your mutually fruitless efforts to be squashed underfoot, but neither of you speak on it, instead you step a little harder and you hope a little less that your backup walls manage to persevere through his wrath. Unsure of if this is right, if you’re allowed to cling to him like this, any lick of your self restraint being wrapped up by a frail splitting string, intent on squeezing you in two halves. The small unfurling existence thats been covertly living somewhere inside of him starts to crack when your attention evolves into something vast, the same one that bloomed in the heat of his bed, seeking to be bathed in your pouring praises.

There’s always been something about you, something infuriating, something nauseatingly enticing about the way you patiently tend to his almost-aching cock with such a weightless attention compared to the borderline fret that others may have felt about getting him to reach his peak.

But tonight, he would leave different.

Even as you’re smoothing his pre-cum down the curve of his erection, his unopened bottle of freezing cold water discarded at his feet, your eyes find other things to admire.

Your head is in the clouds and he’s losing to what’s above.

Struggling with the knowledge that the space you occupy is unrestricted area, Jiung fights with the unimpeded sounds of soft fuss that burst from his mouth.

You don’t notice. Or, maybe you just don’t care. “It’s pretty tonight��clear, you notice?” The slightest amount of pressure is appended to your already taut fist as you wetly stroke him down to his base, pace notably far too lackadaisical for his taste, however he still finds some form of joy in this, almost exciting in a way, how you build back into the motion of things, running a finger over his tip ever few returns you make to the head. Despite his prior grievance you do manage to press slightly against his balls with the established speed of your milky glide, a guttural sound initiated by both the coursing zip of twitching pressure and the lack of increase in speed.

After having made a sticky mess of your palm it comes up to circle at his tip, grooving so sensitively against his continuously drooling slit that it admits an additional series of whimpers to escape, some he manages to catch before they drawl out, others he has to physically stop himself from letting free by digging his teeth into his red swollen lip. “Shit, been too fo-fuck! Focussed ‘n you.” Normally, he can pull out a minuscule reaction with that one, but it’s as if his piteous response drifts right past your ears. Continuing to drag long boring strokes absentmindedly you mutter back, “That’s sweet Ji’.” dismissive of his tactics, you look like you’re speaking more to the air and not to his face as you deftly slip the small silver hooks from the top of your corset. “‘s not!” He cries, emotion tightening in his face, trying to evoke some sense of empathy into you, any little sliver you have to offer.

Unsuccessful, you hum to yourself in a hairsbreadth of contemplation, “I don’t feel like putting you in my mouth tonight, y’know. ‘m sorry if that’s what you were waiting for.” It isn’t sincere, he knows you don’t mean it when you take your attention away from him to briefly peak your head out from behind the shed. “Aren’t listening to me…spent s’long, so much ‘f my- fuck, time. Hn’ you wont even pay attention t’me.”

Being on the furthest side from the lights makes for quite the struggle to scan the field, to see if anyone has managed to stray away from the group, you worry for your reclusiveness. Before you can get a good thorough look Jiung weakly rests an unsteady hand on your cheek, curling along the structure of your face as he silently pleas for a minute—just another minute added to his time spent with you, its all he needs.

Narrowed in confusion your eyes find him before the rest of your body cares to follow. “What?” You coax, bland of confusion, or even a genuine interest at all. Still he’s persistent as ever about his goal tonight. To get a word out of you at the very least was successful but nothing to feel exultant about, there’s still a large nagging part of you thats unvanquished, and there’s not a chance he’s backing out now when he’s so, so close.

He swallows, an expression on his face that would be poignant to anyone, except you. “Listen please. Just want you to make me forget where we are, or- shit, who i am to you- if i matter or not. I’ll take it.” He looks pained as your slowing motions come to a gradual halt, letting out a strenuous needy groan, but you can tell in some sick way that he’s savouring every bit of his torture, like he’s ready to spew the words ‘thank you’ any second now as you run your thumb against his sore slit.

His cock stands upright, so wet and heavy that it bobs a little even with the scant movement of his hips and no support of your hand. He’s so pretty, so much that you could chant it in a never ending string until your words blur together and no longer sound real, so pretty and so stupid. The pressure is ripped away, only returned so you drag the pad of your index finger up the side of him so painfully slow.

“You will, huh?” You ask,continuing to trace him. “Whatever i give you?”

Greedier than time, firm in his belief he confirms “Everything.” via burnt throat. “Give yourself to me, need you t’use me if thats what you need.”

“You’ll be quiet?” It’s a gentle ask, as soft as the breeze that makes him shiver just the same when he feels it.

A nod once slowly, twice, and then it becomes so fast. “Everything?” You ask again, bold—unsure of if that’s the kind of question he’ll willingly answer a second time, if it’s something he thought critically about the first, but the feeling of hearing him say it is so satisfying you can’t help wanting it a second time.

It’s funny, someone like you not expecting someone like him to drop everything for just a strum of your time. He has nothing, absolutely and completely nothing to lose. Jiung’s been looking for a pleasant sounding being all his life, and this whole time a symphony was right under his nose.

With not even a waver in his voice Jiung replies, steadfast on his decision for a second time: “Everything.” With equally as much conviction on his tongue.

Fingers work fast at your panties, tugging them down and off. Jiung watches, choked with words, his desire, feeling whiplashed by your pace and the contrast of lace. He’s overwhelmed, but fuck does he enjoy it. The underwear is as good as forgotten when he drags a large tantalizing hand along his stomach, a habit of his that’s known of, he likes the way his nerves tingle, how the feeling goes straight to his cock, it reminds him of the time you made him explain to you in thorough and jaw achingly explicit detail how he likes to fuck himself when you’re away, the way you squeezed your thighs tight when he mentioned the parts that weren’t inherently sexual, but were a habit of teasing. Is it bad to wonder if he stills does it the way he told you? Even though the underwear is an extremely flattering cut and colour, you couldn’t possibly care any less when his fingers reveal the set of butterflies underneath his crisp button down, finger tips dragging over the sensitive lines.

The light touch of your own fingers quickly guide his cock between your plush thighs, “Pretty, whadda’ they mean again?” he can feel the heat you put off before the both of your faces are screwing up at the sudden feel of each others differing temperatures. You don’t really care, he knows you don’t. “Being pretty isn’t enough?” Jiung can feel the brittle air dispel from his body as you reach a hand down to better separate your sticky folds over his dick in addition to a soft rocking motion. Immediately catching at your sopping hole when he shoves forward, you catch the way his chest squeezes in with a depriving inhale of air.

It feels like he’s just been punched in the gut, hands dropping to your waist to keep himself held back against the wood wall, a deep groan unfolds in his chest, shooting up his throat at the haze of pleasurable tingles. “Love that you don’t really care, know you don’t, fuckin’ love it.”

You’re ridiculously soft, and so fucking hot that it almost hurts from the effect of the frigid air, he can’t believe this is what you’ve been keeping from him, that he allowed it to happen. He should not be as gone as he is without even being inside of you yet, but god the thick warmth of your arousal coating over him is so heavenly as you start moving, finding refuge in you from the cold. “Can’t…can’t keep…” he struggles, unknowing of what it is exactly that he can’t do, but what ever it is you’re greatly overestimating him if you continue to keep grinding your slick pussy on him like this.

Mortifying, that’s what it is when his head is thrown back, unable to watch you inconspicuously rub yourself along his length, coupled with getting an ear full of your muffled sounds of pleasure. Taking the opening of his neck you lean in, tongue dragging against his skin before pressing light pecks to the wet area. You move so fervently that he can feel his tip poking out and brushing against your skirt on the other side—dragging along his dick, the stitching in the front soaks up your remaining fluids.

He’s able to catch quick glimpse of his drenched cock with a certain swift bump of his head directly against your clit, but even in his sputtering pleasure he refrains from watching all too closely, even when soft, more audible sighs start billowing out of your pretty mouth. “Y/N, baby plu-please…‘m not as strong willed- fuck, ‘s you think i am.” He tries his best to keep his lower half still, open for you to use—his twitching erection pressed snug under you, between, but the rest of his body unapologetically has a scorching drive of its own.

Not in the softness of his bed but he so badly wishes that he was. He can’t grip at the wrinkled sheets or fist at his pillows, the only surface keeping him held is the damp wall that you can hear the scratch of sewn sequence in the shape of a flying saucer grazing against.

Compared to the wreck of a man pressed in front of you, the pleasure you feel isn’t immense or head spinning-ly good, but, witnessing, feeling the way you have him acting makes up for its lacking amounts. “Ohh, Jiung, already know you aren’t.” The feigned empathetic lilt you speak in comes naturally, your eyes soften, a gloss to them that he’s familiar with being in his own even though his friends swear he has the metabolism of a pig.

He’s so incredibly drunk on you, absolutely wasted—fascinated beyond belief that it’s possible.

Everything feels like its slowed down, he vaguely notices the way your cheeks push your lower eyelids closer to your irises, a sharp devilish smile tensing your muscles as you simultaneously nudge his dick back with the very tip of your index finger, nestling him right under your weeping cunt, your walls tensing with the expectancy of a welcomed stretch.

You’re fucking drenched, fluctuating in excitement as you lift to the tips of your feet, then sink back with a long muted breath as he coasts inside with a huffed “Fuck…”

Nodding his head profusely, in semblance of chanting ‘good, good, good’ as he heels his body forward—out, cold hip bones pressing fluttering kisses against yours. He pauses from the sense of embarrassment augmented by your scrutiny as you sink him deeper, yet it’s still such an addicting feeling to be under, he needs more but can’t bring himself to fall under his orgasm so easily. He spasms, hesitates plenty, all the way until he’s completely bottomed out.

“Please, let me…” your body finds balance with manicured fingers pressed into his shoulders, an aching arch closer to his chest. “Let you what?” You wrangle out through a tight chest, your lips find his, speaking directly against him, into his mouth. “Don’t be coy, jus’ lemme’ fuck you already Y/N.” His head slopes slightly to the left, looking at your lips under his heavy eyelids—already waiting for a kiss that he can only hope you’ll be willing to spare.

He noses at your cheek in waiting, sharing with you his stuttering breaths as he presses a warm peck on the side of your mouth, refusing to kiss where he wants without his call of permission being uttered. “Be good, I will, make you feel- good.” The fasten of your arms around his neck is swift, a further proof of your allowance, “Really good?” You raise, urging his head straight and back.

He feels the hat lift from the back of his warm head, the change in air amplified by the sweat that clings to the roots of his hair. It pops off, but he’s buzzing in delight much too greatly to care. He slides the words out, “Really good.” with a mouth full and wet as you reach for the broad crown of white, fingers hugging as you lift it over to your head.

“Go on then.”

Almost instantaneously he’s grabbing your hips, planting a solid foot and expertly moving from his place to fit you between his chest and the barn. Hushing your small surprised gasp once he’s certain you’re stable, a chaste kiss against your brow bone as a damp palm wraps against your outer thigh, he moves it up, out, opening you so he can press further in as they drive forward, canted in his haste. “Wet—s’fucking wet my girl.” It’s a reflex to bury himself inside of you, as much- as far as you can handle and stilling once he can’t nudge himself any further. Every inch of his figure is effected by small shakes and straining twitches, choppy voice narrowly escaping as he palms at your neck, feeling, covering as much of your skin that his hands are capable of with a tight grasp of your thigh in his other hand, he needs you everywhere. Watches the process of your mouth falling slack, taking everything in, feeling the tender depth he reaches even at such a difficult angle, your fiery brain can’t even begin to comprehend how much more of you he’d be able to reach if you were in a different angle, one more accommodating, and promising of pliability.

“Focus, shut up ‘nd focus!-”

A small significantly heavier jump of his hips has your nerves shot to hell, but you hold yourself tight, even a sliver of composed is enough to be convincing. He works out of you in short, taking a fingers width worth of himself out, then giving you added an additional width of two in each return. The feeling is good, it’s filling after being starved for so long- a hunger strike if you will, but it doesn’t succeed in bringing you any closer to your orgasm. “Thought you said, you’d make me feel good.” You huff in a thin unconvincing voice, frustrated. His head descends to your shoulder, thinking that he’s welcomed when you let the slope of him in, that this is his claim, that there’s no more ground another person could cover that he’s not already been.

Nails sharp and hot scratch at his scalp in the motion of your joints closing around a clump of hair at the back of his head.

“disappointing.” Floats straight to his ear, its invasive, vibrating inside of his head like a frantic bee.

A startling moan rips from his hold, the kind where you know it was large and full of bass to start with but not strong enough to uphold up its weight, like helium spewing from the volatile confines of latex. Whining frantically, his eyes snap shut as he digs his face further into you, damp flesh pressing into damp flesh, the wet sticky sound of his cock repeatedly plunging into you from the rutting at such a loose impatient pace. The sight is indescribable, the rocking of two bodies, moving as one, feeling as one, yet the brains that keep you moving are so incredibly different from each-other, disconnected in emotion by light years, steps, miles, planes apart, but physically the closest you’d ever come to be.

His jaw is wrung slack, drool pooling out with his tongue lax over the edge of his bottom teeth. Globs of the tepid liquid drip as his thrusts flatten out into timed punches, it leaks down your clavicle, sticking to the curvature of your collarbones. His meek sounds jointly purged by your body as he slips the opening of the corset further apart, impetuously tugging further so he can get a proper hand on the soft skin.

Small unintelligible sounds are made in the back of his throat as he presses the centre of his palm to your breast, squishing the tense of your nipple into it. “Ji’,” he hears, restlessness distinct in your voice, coaxing, hoping for something more. Heedlessly Jiung’s arm, fingers that you’re so desperate to feel under your skirt, disappear from your sight, feeling as he brigs it to the side of your ass, resulting in an even greater awkward position for him to be in with his height, but he can ignore the strain he feels in certain pints of his neck and back for the way you start pressing into his hand, a struggled whine leaving your mouth with the offer of your chest to his touch. “Oh, you like that.” A squeeze to the supple round of your ass evokes a heaved sigh as he presses a cold wet kiss to the base of your neck.

The meek stimulation to your nipples isn’t as effective as your clit being played with, a vitalization, but not a slake to your insatiable thirst. A dry swallow, the pleasure all fizzles and intertwines the same even in its marginal amounts, you can’t bleat about it, the intentional squeezing around him becomes close to incessant because of it, begging that he continues with the teasing pinches as his hips oscillate with a steady reoccurring flow into yours.

From the sole feel of your body confidence daringly creeps up over his shoulder, pink tongue drawing the essence of it back in.

A silent indecipherable moment shared as he looks to you before leaning in, eyes flitting as he laves against the neglected bud, further covering you in him as the muscle retreats, curls back, cradling the secretion of saliva into the bend of his tongue before his lips pucker, letting gravity take over as it dribbles it out across your tit.

Brushing back his tussled hair, wanting a look of the glassy liquid as it departs from the warmth of his mouth, your body moves without the need for communication, fruitlessly drying to grind against his pelvis, but he’s got so much more ground. Your hand moves rashly against his mouth, index finger accepted gracefully by his tongue, an unhesitant thing—dancing against the digit.

Jiung—already so dazed, retracts back outside of you, leaving a few inches of himself in for a fleeting moment. The empty space he leaves behind aches for his return, but the sight of him readily taking a second finger to join your other mitigates any measly discomfort.

“Tell you i like it, ‘s that mean you wont touch on my clit for me?”

His lips tighten, tongue licking up against the appendages, trying to shake his head, lidded glossy eyes stare intently at your face.

“You know I’ll touch you all you want, just tell me.”

“Shut the fuck up, keep moving.” A tempting beckon for him to return back to the heat between your legs is made, small barely noticeable spots of dark over the thigh of his red slacks, how could he resist knowing of the mess you’ve made? He reaches down, skirt bunching around his wrist as his middle finger straightens out from its curve, running directly against the spot that has your entire body tensing.

A continuous slide is maintained as his thrusts quicken, full, unceasing.

The deep all consuming indication of his approaching orgasm falls into the unwonted rhythm of yours, frantic muttering and endearing whines that you try and fail to retain behind those pretty lips of yours.

It’s predictable, he thinks, the reckless abandon of your body trying to meet the movement of his own, craving for the throttling nudge of his cock to hit that special place you’ve been dreaming of.

Shallow breaths shared in a silent race. Jiung can feel your arousal starting to cover more of his finger, the dwindle in volume of your noises and the succumbing weakness in your legs. “Hol’ on pretty, mmnh—‘m gettin’ there,” he pants, your hip is far past the point of discomfort but the pain only punches your orgasm closer. “wait f’me, you can wait, huh? Know you fuckin’ can.”

God, you know you sound pathetic when a headlong “mhm!” Is tumbling from your restraint, and he adores the feeling of your body curling in on him, whether it’s subconscious or not, how you grip him so tightly, and beg for him to keep fucking you through your orgasm because once you’re stampeding through the crest of it qyou can’t keep a sensible control of how you sound or the way you move.

The obscuring blanket of fog on the windows collect into small droplets, he’s closer to believing that with each prolonged close of his eyelids that the small action spurs them to spill, allowing what’s left of the outside world a glimpse in through the thin clear streaks.

Hands abandon the secure hold on his flimsy shirt that drapes haphazardly off your backside, once spotless, now defaced by nature and your recklessness.

A lingering smell of sex hangs over your heads in the confined space, it should be repugnant, concerning the way he inhales the balmy scent so greedily, but on his own accord he justifies it in the sense that no matter how much he resents its existence, everything about you is so addicting-ly cruel—sweet with an overthrow of bitter that he yearns to internalize. You’ve always tasted, smelled all the same in compelling amounts.

Jiung can’t bring himself to be worried about his primarily bare frame being seen when his dick sheaths up into you so easily in frail minor strokes. The repetitive movement of his body leads his natural musk to emanate a heavier trace behind on your skin, the softer notes of his amber cologne crushed along the obsessive pull and hold at your back, frantically trying to keep your jelly limbs solid against him.

Stained shirt is gripped tighter in his fist, softening a whine by plunging it into an exhale as he hoists your body further up his thighs. The sheer amount of unpredictability of the situation arouses a flurry of tingles to surge from the bottom of his stomach, resistance starting to dwindle as you steadily crawl out of your hot slumber, thinking of the varying ways Jongseob would react if he conveniently showed up.

Jiung likes that someone could easily peak in and catch the both of any minute now with the recent influx of spilling people that exit from the property.

The paced rut of his cock drives him closer into overstimulation, having forced himself to still the past 2 times the unwelcome pressure of his peak pulled him to the top, you asked of him to wait, the request still vivid in his head, ‘until I wake’.

He’s doing himself absolutely no good, the steer of your weighty hips in his hold revitalize the entirety of the moment you asked him so sweetly to take care of you when your stamina was proved to be inadequate for the stretch of time he’s capable of keeping you busy in the back of the cold vehicle—knocked out with the remnants of your request still drowsily hanging onto your lips not too long after you snagged the keys from Seob’s pocket, your top clasped one hook off from the other.

The sudden flatten of your knees holding out on the seat gives him a better advantage, as well as a little bit of a scare. His clammy palms migrate to your ass, feeling on you as you press up for him, keeping yourself still so he can properly fuck into you from below. “J’…” you hum, voice barren and small, the middle buckle under your leg digging against your bone.

A hand massages at you, drawing light against the expanse of your soft skin. “I know honey, hn’know—shit..”

2:13 was read the last time he checked his phone, the feeble sound of yelling from the party starting to lose it’s vibrancy, to it now being 3:00 am with little to no noise, and his phone battery on the cusp of giving out and plunging the screen into indefinite darkness—something he’d normally be worried about, furthermore, try his best to avoid, but the way your breathing gradually softens on top of his chest as your body wakes to full responsiveness, telling by the squeezes around his length that its just what you asked for, it makes the significance of his trivial concerns so unusually minuscule.

His eyes clamp shut, swallowing down his discomfort from the lack of space he was meant to endure. “S’good, you’ve always felt s’fucking good, sweet girl.” He shifts again, caressing the back of your head, anchoring you through his stammering thrusts.

“Thirsty.” You groggily complain, slithering a slow hand between your bodies, pussy twitching from the praise, aching to be touched. Jiung was fearful of the sore throat that he knows you wordlessly suffer from now, it always does after you drink, your hoarse squeaks evidential as you trace messy circles over your puffy clit. Body far more awake than you feel.

He didn’t think to take any water before the two of you managed to slip by the boys, and there’s sure as hell not any sitting in here. “Poor baby.” Inwardly he takes the flitting time to mull it over, but realistically there’s not many options to begin with. Well, except for one.

He doesn’t hesitate when guiding your head back down to level with him, his flicking his chin up as an indication for a kiss, to which you cluelessly comply. He’s a little stunned that you meet him halfway, the mobility of his lower body unceasing, but that doesn’t hinder the process of his tongue invading your mouth seconds after he’s finally able to properly press his rigid lips against your soft pliable ones.

Expertly he shoves a wad of his spit onto your tongue, another peck left at the corner of your mouth as it disperses over the muscle before he curtly tips back. “Swallow.” He husks, sealing you off, parting from his offering.

He leans back onto his forearms, folded up blazer pushed beneath his shoulders, leaving you leaned over, wet lips holding the additional liquid inside. You let it slide to the back of your throat, gathering, he waits to see the movement in your neck so he knows that you’ve swallowed it.

When you do, the peak of his 2nd orgasm starts breaching his senses almost simultaneously.

The body of the van rocks in his urgency, sweat beading out from his hairline as it squeaks, empty cans at the foot of the front seats rattling. “Good, baby?” His face pinches, struggling to punch the words out. “Good Ji’, so fuckin’ good.”

The feeling of his quickly approaching orgasm is unworldly, yet the nagging palpability of your current circumstances looms equally significant in vitality. “Jongseobie…‘s gonna be so—so mad at us.” He worries aloud, glancing down at the dark outline of your hips that starts straying from the tempo he set, the wet sloshing sound of your cunt recklessly sucking him down intense to his ears. Your sporadic grinding against him is relieving to see. You’re close, within the same nearing distance that he is, aching for the final puncture at your thinning endurance that’ll snap you slack. “Making a mess, all over me ‘n the seats.”

What a time to finally have some consideration for your friend.

Instantly he feels the leverage you use to pitch your upper body upright, holding the top of the headrest as you meet his thighs with short bounces. You can only dream of reaching over to muffle his irrelevant noise with a hand, trying to focus on the creeping sensation that starts strumming at your nerves, one that makes your legs feel fuzzy, and causes sweat to drip down your back, it’s far more pleasant of a feeling when his mouth is shut.

Piqued by the sound of his voice, you huff back an unconvincing “We’ll deal with it-” as your head lulls back, allowing yourself to fall into the dark of your eyelids, letting you forget about what’s on the other side of the van, and exactly how you got here in the first place the faster you rub at your clit. “Jiung,” you whine, spasming and restless.

“Yeah baby” he struggles out.

You shift, hold straining around the headrest, around his cock in the same, slippery finger ruthlessly sliding on your clit.

“Need- shit Jiung, need you to shut the fuck up already, make me come.”

Fuck, it’s ridiculous the way you ask him of any little thing and he’s jumping to get it done. Jiung doesn’t take your demand lightly, a thoughtless account as his foot presses onto the carpet floor, the piston of his hips deepening out with the aid, pressing his length into you as far as he can reach, the unforgivingly lewd mix of your fluids ringing at the plinth of his cock—sticky against what’s managed to leak to the underside of your legs, you feel its thick consistency spread further from the shared pace that has you unraveling overtop of him in the matter of minutes, sinking from the muffled sound of his voice.

“Love—love you, baby, please, please say it back.” He blubbers pathetically, convinced by no one either than himself that you’re just as deep into this as he is, that’s this is just as emotionally charged.

“Come back, come back t’me…missed this pussy s’fucking much- god, fucking miss you.”

He can’t comprehend the second his own climax hits, it’s a blur of flesh and liquid, the stiffening of your body, the aggressive shaking from your waist down.

Your spent body melts down on top of his, a shared exhaustion sinking into your bones.

Fingers rub softly against the small of your back, unwilling to move even if the cramped position makes him ache and numb in certain points of his limbs. You hardly move, and for a fleeting moment he’s able to take it all in, the stillness, the quiet, the ambience that resembles the warmth of your relationship, clumsily fucking in places you shouldn’t, disappearing on weekends and not a singular trace left behind of where you went.

This is us, he thinks, painfully convincing himself into believing it utterly and completely, that this is leeway back into your old affairs. But the truth, it couldn’t be more clear, you’ve known it long before the door slides shut.

Tugging at your skirt, you smooth yourself out as you step away without a spared glance back, keys pressed into your palm, wrapped by your fingers. You’re content, satiated even previously being in the face of your unremitting constraint, you got what you came for, throughout the time it took you to get it, maybe you didn’t succeed in becoming the spectacle you thought yourself to be among everyone else, but with the spoken covet of your presence in his life again, you sure as hell felt like it.

Hefty footsteps thump closer to you at a concerning pace that slows you down. Flashlights swing along the ground, with the lack of it you can’t tell exactly who is running down the path—concerned by the urgency in their pace until the figure comes to a sudden out of breath stop.

Jongseob bends over, his sandpaper tongue striking the roof of his mouth.

“Cops were called, we gotta go.”

#piwontober24 #choi jiung smut #choi jiung x reader #choi jiung imagines #p1harmony jiung x reader #p1harmony jiung smut #p1harmony jiung imagines #p1h jiung x reader #p1harmony smut #p1h smut #piwon x reader #piwon imagines #piwon smut

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morningstargirl666 · 3 months ago

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hi! do you have any long canon klaroline fic recommendations?

i’m missing klaroline and actual canon isn’t gonna cut it

I'm going to assume by long fics you mean multichaps? I've always found this fandom seems to be lacking in them, and I'm not talking about the 5-10 chapter fics --- I mean the long ass, epic-length fics that transport you to another dimension and rob you of nine hours of your life in a back-alley because you couldn't close the ao3 page at 1am. Other fandoms seem to have dozens of them but klaroline? Not so much. Writers here seem to prefer the 50k one-shots or playing with a different AU altogether, which is fantastic of course, but sometimes you crave something different, you know? Something you can lose youself in. It's what made me write TBBW, initially. However, that doesn't mean the fandom doesn't have some canon-divergent gems.

Epic-Length Wonders:

Red Queen by KS_Caster / @ks-caster

3-Part Series, Over 200k+ words. Season 4 Canon-Divergent. The last part is a WIP. I absolutely adored this fic when I first read it and I still adore it now. Klaus puts Caroline first and continues to put her first during the search for Silas' cure and it is fucking amazing. The werewolf/hybrid world building in the second fic inspired me to write more fics like it. It's not had as much attention since it was moved to AO3, but trust me, this fic is a hidden gem.

Wicked Schemes by willowaus / @willowaus

30 Chapters, 260k+ words. Season 1 TO Canon-Divergent. Ignores the baby plot. Caroline inherits the powers of a harbringer and the way its weaved into the fic so flawlessly makes you question if it wasn't just canon to begin with. Honestly epic world building. Wolf!Klaus also makes an appearance! A true klaroline classic.

make them bow. by for_darkness_shows_the_stars / @stars-and-darkness

35 Chapters, 220k+ words. Season 1 Canon-Divergent. Klaus is dropped into season one while Caroline is still human. Klefan bromance. Damon retribution. Forbes family dynamics. Klaus covered in blood. Council Members and Founding Family warfare. There's a reason this is the most commented-on fic in the entire fandom even though it's barely been out a year.

Binge-In-One-Sitting Multichaps:

Til I Tasted You by KiryTheStitchWitch / @kirythestitchwitch

4 Chapters, 22k. Canon Divergent/Soulmate AU. Will ruin you with single most devastating declaration of love in existence, forewarning you now.

throw roses into the abyss by marxandangels / @marxandangels

7 Chapters, 99k+. WIP. Technically Season 6 Canon-Divergent (after Liz dies) but ignores canon for the most part, especially TO wise. Explores the concept of humanity-less vampires so well, with a dash of world building on the side. Klaus and Caroline's relationship is also explored with such nuance --- like these two aren't just attracted to each other but entwined by their very souls, kind of nuanced. Oh, and the bloodsharing scene drawn by here by @stardust414 lives rent-free in my mind.

Someone's First Choice by unpublishednovelist

10 Chapters, 29k+. Post-Canon. This one's a WIP but I'm keeping my eye on it because it's good. Like hella good. Caroline decides to say fuck it and goes with some college friends to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, accomadation covered by our favourite Original hybrid. She breaks up with Tyler over voicemail. Queen shit.

All I Need by emeraldvixen

14 Chapters, 60k, E rated. Canon-Divergent/Wolf Mate AU. In the mood for some hot and steamy smut? Emeraldvixen's got you covered.

the fate makes for a lousy poet by for_darkness_shows_the_stars / @stars-and-darkness

7 Chapters, 50k+. Season 3 Canon-Divergent/Soulmate AU. The Originals in pajamas. Need I say more?

Who put Bella down the Wynch Elm? by for_darkness_shows_the_stars / @stars-and-darkness

7 Chapters, 60k+. Post-Canon. A murder mystery whodunnit with original side characters and Caroline in all her bad ass glory, after she's left Mystic Falls and its hellmouth-worthy shenanigans. Just - for a minute - imagine canon expanded on the tvd universe and revisted the fact the Originals are little more than nightmarish stories in the supernatural world, or that Stefan is the most infamous mass murderer on the east coast and maybe you'll understand how amazing this fic is.

Important to note these were all specifically Canon-Divergent multichaps. There's plenty more gems out there, just for different AUs and lengths. I also only looked at my ao3 bookmarks for this, so like, I'm probably forgetting several.

#klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #klaus x caroline #fanfiction #fanfic recs #as you can tell I am not normal about ella's fics #they're good fucking fics alright #anon ask #ask and ye shall receive

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gilverrwrites · 6 months ago

Text

Conjugal Visit

Captain Boomerang/F!Reader, 2.2K words

AN: I can't remember what inspired this, but it's just a cute, fluffy, smutty thing I've been working on between request and uni work.

Plot: Digger is rewarded for saving the entire world with a 1 hour conjugal visit. It's not much, but it will do. Rating: 18+

CWs: None really, its just fluffy smut! Very mild angst, swearing, unprotected sex, p in v sex, cunnilingus, woman on top.

Please remember: You are a super star!

He’s been sending you origami unicorns and gibberish-filled letters about his good behaviour for months, but the promised conjugal visit never came, at least not until after he’d saved Metropolis, and, well, the whole world, maybe even the universe from an alien invasion.

When his figure popped up on the news, you’d know it was him straight away, even despite his zipping around like a bonafide speedster.

Later, when Lois Lane showed clearer footage, had confirmed it was him your heart had thrum with pride. You’d told anyone who would listen “That’s my man! That’s my Digger, out saving the world!” You’d even texted articles to your family, to prove he wasn’t the layabout felon they’d always complained about. They didn’t need to know that he was part of some kind of suicide mission, only out there because the government considered his criminal(-ly cute) ass expendable. No, as far as you were concerned, he was a hero, who would save the world, and come home to your loving arms when he was done. At least that’s what you told yourself to help you sleep at night.

The positivity paid off though. When Digger and his teammates had saved the freakin’ world, his leader, Waller had graciously offered him a few years of his impossibly long sentence and a whopping 3 hours with you. It was considerably less than standard but you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Digger, however, was. His complaining had reduced his reward time to just one hour, and you were determined to make the most of it.

As you approach the door, you eyed the various trays shelved next to it. Each one filled with different sizes and brands of condoms, all of which were too small for Digger, and you weren’t allowed to bring your own. Every finger and toe was crossed that the morning-after pill you’d pre-purchased would be enough.

A straight-faced guard opens the door for you, you thank him as you step inside, disappointed to be the first one here. An ancient off-white plastic analogue clock on the wall loudly counts down each missed second as you wait for him, brushing your hair out with your fingers, sucking your teeth to make sure there are no remnants of breakfast stuck between them. When the door finally opens once more you have your skirt hiked up to your waist as you fiddle with your underwear. It wasn’t the comfiest, but it was Digger's favourite.

Your efforts don’t go unnoticed, your jailbird boyfriend’s eyes are bulging as he takes in your form for the first time in too long. Your heart races as you do the same to him, suddenly feeling both coy and unstable as you examine the way his uniform hangs from his lean body. God you can’t wait to get those off him.

From the excited look on his face, he was having similar thoughts about your outfit. You release the hem of your skirt, but before the fabric can even flutter back against your skin, Digger has you in his arms, using all his muscle to lift you up high by your thighs, head nuzzled against your stomach as he spins you around.

“I’ve missed ya so much, you’ve got no idea. I can’t believe you’re really here. The real you, not just your pictures stuck above me bed.” He blurts all the things he’s wanted to say but couldn’t convey until now. “I stare at you every night, been dreamin’ bout this moment.”

“I missed you too baby. Now kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!” You jiggle your weight until he begins to lower you.

“Don’t have to tell me.” He chuckles, situating you at hip height, putting your faces in closer proximity, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, as you lock lips with him. He tastes like mouthwash, which was not unwelcome, but strange. Certainly different to the stale beer you were accustomed to. Regardless, Digger didn’t miss a beat, slipping his tongue into your mouth and kissing you with so much enthusiasm it made you miss him again already.

The way he smiles into your kiss nearly makes you pull away to giggle. The way his calloused fingers tickle your skin as he snakes a hand up to cup your ass does make you throw your head back and laugh out loud.

“That tickles! Stop!”

“Nah, I’ve missed this sound too much.” He doesn’t stop, now deliberately tickling both your hips as you begin weakly hitting his shoulder. “You know what else I’ve missed the sound of?”

You squeal as he releases you all at once, throwing your body onto the bed.

“That!”

You sit up on the bed, arms crossed as you wait for him to stop laughing at you. The bed itself is old, the springs of the mattress creak under every move, and the comforter is itchy as hell, but it will have to do.

“I should be mad at you for that, but I’ll forgive you this once 'cause I missed you so much.” Leaning back, you spread your legs, revealing your underwear and offering him a come-hither look.

He looks like a fox in a henhouse, pointy grin, big eyes, and it makes your pussy tingle with excitement.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Love, but I sure as shit am lucky.” His shirt and trousers are gone before he lands above you. Long fingers lock onto you, clumsily helping you undress until all that’s left is Diggers crew socks. He never takes them off for sex, ‘extra grip for when I’m givin’ it to ya real hard’, so you don’t bother trying to get them off him.

“Digger, you’re a hero!” You argue between sloppy kisses. “Even if you weren’t, you still deserve good things.”

“Yeah…” For a moment he looks at you, really looks at you, without the lust or the laughter. It might have felt scrutinising if you thought for a second that he knew what that word meant. “But you loved me before, an’ I really didn't deserve you then.”

Before you can respond he’s slinking down your body, fingers pushing against your entrance and making you squirm.

“You’re so wet already, you miss being all filled up by your old man aye? Bet you’ve been feeling so empty. I’m sorry I got me-self locked up. Sorry I left you so high and dry.” He slips one finger in, cupping your pussy, pressing down on your clit with his thumb. He hadn’t always known your body so well, but you’d spent so many nights wrapped up in each other that it was second nature now.

“Don’t…” you try to speak between deep breaths. “Don’t be sorry, make it up to me.”

No need to ask twice, in seconds he sucking on your clit and slipping a second finger inside. His crooked nose nestled against your pelvis area, mutton shops scratchy between your thigh as he begins to lap at your core. When he skims your sweet spot at just the right angle you whimper, tugging at his russet hair, which in turn causes him to let out a deep moan that reverberates against you.

You whine and squirm against the wobbly bed as he continues, the fire in your belly building as duel licking and fucking pushes you closer to the edge. He hits that hot spot inside, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his head. With your orgasm in sight, Digger picks up his pace, slipping in a third finger as he concentrates his efforts on your clit.

Reflexively, your back arches and your toes curl as your orgasm hits. Your hips roll, searching for more friction and Digger uses his free hand to press on your stomach, holding you in place until you come back down.

“Ah, crikey. You taste just as sweet as I remember.” He comments as he comes back up, face gleaming with a mix of cum and saliva. “I missed that.”

Before you can respond he places a wet kiss on your belly button. “An’ I missed this.”

Your sternum. “An’ this.”

“An’ definitely these.” He cups both of your breasts as he lowers himself and begins to rub his face between your cleavage. Green eyes peer up at you full of cheek when you grip his hair and tilt his head to look at you. “What?”

“We're on a time constraint, you wanna spend it all in there?” He purses his lips playfully, looking back and forth between you and your boobs as he pretends to consider the question.

“I could die happy here.” To emphasise his point, he burrows between them once more before conceding. His cock bobs from side to side as he sits back, shimming his hips. “But we wouldn’t want Digger Jr to miss out on all the fun.”

“Agreed! Let’s put him to use.” His hips feel pointed in your grip as you grab them, dragging him between your spread legs again. He runs the tip between your lips, teasing your clit and coating himself in your slick. When you feel his head at your entrance, your muscles tighten, trying to draw him in further.

This is the part you’d been craving and dreading. Even when you’d been sleeping together routinely, ‘Jr’ was too big to slide in with ease. The burn of your walls struggling to stretch around him makes your breathing uneven, the lubrication of your earlier climax doing little to ease the process.

“Hey, hey, relax now, breathe.” Digger coos, leaning in close and cupping your cheek, reminding you that keeping calm is the best way to get through it. You nod, even though your body is in overdrive, you will yourself to relax, steadying your breathing and he gradually works his way into you. “That’s it, Darl’, let me into that tight little snatch.”

“Ew, Digger!” You groan and laugh at his atrocious word choice, but it works. It distracted you enough for him to bottom out. Smugly, he wiggles his bows and his cock at the same time, the motion making you pant and squirm, needing real friction.

“On your back Harkness.” You order.

“Yes ma'am.” Hands gripping your hips he does the heavy lifting, flipping your bodies until he lays flat on his back, and you hover above him.

Comfortable, you waste no time bouncing on his lap, gripping his shoulders for support as you roll your hips up and down. “Fuck, Digger, that feels so good.”

“Oh yeah.” He agrees between gritted teeth, his hands reaching up to cup your tits, his hips jerking up to meet your thrusts. “This is so much better than jerking off to your photies every night. Nothin’ beats the real thing.”

The more you rock together, the more he crumbles, face scrunching, hands abruptly grabbing at whatever skin he can reach, no longer just occupied with your breasts.

“Shit Digger, your dick is the best.” You praise and you can tell from his pink cheeks and rapid movements that he’s on the brink.

“Fuck. Touch yourself, touch yourself, touch yourself.” He begs, wanting you to cum but too lost to do it himself. You dip your finger between your legs, circling your clit with firm, circular motions, causing tension to quickly coil in your gut, but it's not enough. “Fuck, woman, hurry up and cum.”

“Impatient.” You scold, purposely pumping your body in fast, deep motions to aid Digger's climax.

“Can’t help it.” He whispers quickly, desperately. “You feel too good.”

He’s a beautiful withering mess beneath you, gleaming under a layer of sweat. All sharp edges and soft freckled skin. Eager to put him out of his misery you press harder at your clit, rubbing as fast as you can muster until you can’t help throwing your head back, panting as you approach your peak, and Digger is right there with you, gripping you with bruising force as he finally lets himself release. Pleasure seeps through your body as you ride out your orgasms together, Digger grunting with every spurt of cum he releases inside of you.

“Wow.” You pant, as you relax, collapsing onto his Digger's chest. “I missed that.”

When he’s recovered enough, Digger wraps his arms around you in return, pulling you closer for a deeper hug. “We’ve still got it.”

“Still got it.” You concede. Sex with Digger is always good, but the come down, the cuddling and the pillow talk is comforting. As much as you want to, you can’t fall asleep in his arms, can’t have a thumb war over who has to go get snacks, can’t stay up all night talking about that guy you hate from work, or Digger’s latest heist plans. “I just wish we had more time to talk. I want to hear everything.”

In sync, both your heads turn. Yours to the clock, Diggers to you.

“Not much time, is it?” He probes, you know he can only read digital.

“No, just a little under 10 minutes.” Determined not to let your limited time together get you down, and feeling Digger’s cock already growing hard inside you once more, you offer; “Think we can squeeze in another quick?”

“Don’t need to be quick, don’t care what they do to me.” Digger flips you over, his turn on top. “They’re gonna need one of them giant magnet thingys to pry me off of you, Love.”

Request Info || Prompts || DC Masterlist || Ko-Fi

#captain boomerang #george harkness #george digger harkness #george digger harness x reader #captain boomerang x reader #smut #ssktjl #gilverrwrites

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satocidal · 1 year ago

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hi I hope you’ve been doing well <3 could you possibly write Gojo making female reader! cry during s^x and her using her safeword? basically the aftermath of that as well. tysm 🫶🫶

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳“Careful There!” — Gojo Satoru

Synopsis:- You should’ve known better than to tease him—I mean, I don’t blame you but I don’t blame him either; so now you’re all tied up for him, and his pleasure alone. He’ll push you right over the edge—slowly, but just as carefully, he’ll bring you back too.

— word count: 2.6k

— An: Heavily, like heavily inspired from this thing I heard once💀 I mean, yk. I can’t even find it now but like core memory lmao. And also because mean Gojo is an all time favourite of mine so- sorry not sorry. Hope you like it Anon baby<3 also like it’s very stretched out and the build up is sort of a lot? The main shit is at the end so lol💀

— Tw: !MDNI!AFAB!Reader; Porn without much plot; degradation (reader gets called whore, slut, etc); implied sub-dom dynamic; impact play (like three(?) pussy slaps; spanking); hair pulling; praise; use of safe-word; Mean Gojo+ Soft Gojo; mentions of filming/pornography; mentions of Nanami; All characters are of age; use of sex toys; crying (reader cries; use age of “sir” when referring to gojo; feminine nicknames used.

You knew you shouldn’t have, you knew it everytime and yet no amount of warnings would ever be enough for you to learn- would it?

That’s how he saw it, he loved it, oh Satoru loved it oh, so much, perhaps beyond compare, when you went out of your way to tease him —but sometimes, just sometimes you got out of hands. That gentle teasing wasn’t gentle— the dirty little whispers were all too loud, the back talk was entirely rude and his reputation was often ruined.

Satoru barely cared though, most of the time, he didn’t at all for you were all that mattered to him and he, to you.

But there’s only so much a man of his temperament can take, only so much even the strongest can endure—especially if you go out, a smirk plastered on your face as you wear the smallest- skimpiest piece of clothing in your closet—the one he bought for you and then ignore him all day while you chatted away with his colleagues—With Nanami.

Arms pressed together in front of you, you bent a little too well—cleavage so deliciously evident, Satoru watched you then, an amused smirk adoring his lips—you continued making aimless conversation with the younger blonde, loving just the effect you had on him—loving just how uneasy you were able to make him with a small pout of your glossed lips and movement just to inch closer to him.

He watched still as you bounced away to seat yourself next to Kento during lunch, fingers playing with your hair as you batted your eyes at him—Satoru only watched.

He wouldn’t ever be described as a jealous man, after all, but cruel? That could find its way a couple of times.

So, He watched still as you got on your tip toes to kiss Kento’s cheek to greet him good-bye and he watched as you winked at random strangers in the street, aware all too well that with Satoru looking beside you, not a single soul would even dare to walk your way.

But then he watched still as you whimpered, his fingers grasping your hips a little too roughly- a bruise sure to be found the next morning while he lead you through the street to his house—he watched pleasantly still as your face contorted, another whimper ready to befall your mouth as he pushed you onto the couch.

“Bend,” his voice, a command and you knew everything that was coming.

There is a time for everything and you had gained experience enough to realise that being a brat was not the perfect time when Satoru lost his smile around you—and yet, a brat remains a brat.

You grinned and you raise a brow—“No,” your lips spelled out—and that was quite literally all it took before his massive form towered on you, eyes a tad bit darker than the usual.

His brows raised now— “We can do it my way or your way,” his voice was stable, “just know that neither is going to be easy for you.”

A lip bite, eyes averted- he watched patiently as he’d done all day—and a moment later you found yourself bending over the arm rest.

“The silly brain of yours is actually working Hm?” It was rhetoric, but obvious and yet you had fought each urge of yours to mutter a “more capable than yours.”

The issue lay with the fact that you fought and fought and lost, finally muttering it a second later with a grin on your face—Satoru loved it.

No words escaped him this time, rough hands working fast to push your head deep into the couch, raising your hips to get better access—spreading your legs to shame you a little too much.

“Tell me,” he mused, smirk all too evident, “if I inspect your pussy right now—will i find it wet?”

You had also learnt over the years of dating him that there was no right answer to this question—not even silence.

“No,” you lied instantly, curious to where that would lead you—he hummed, fingers just then prodding deep at your panties—soaked.

Squelch!- the room was so quiet, the sound so prominent, Satoru couldn’t help but smile wide—“Let me rephrase, how soaked would it be?”

Your face burned at that instant, eyes shying away to even look up at his shadow—“He got you wet doll?” His voice deep- fingers teasing your entrance through the material of your wet panties, “You’re so easy as to get this wet by him? And he didn’t even reciprocate your advances baby,” his words were mean, fingers meaner in the way they avoided your clit- in the way they avoided touching you just how you wanted.

“It’s not fair is it?” You could feel him squat down—face right at your panty-clad pussy, breath hot, teasing—“you tried so hard, he probably wanted to fuck you there on the table when you bounced your tits for him—” his other hand just then grasped your thigh, spreading you all the more for him—“but yaknow’,” his fingers landed a quick slap on your cunt—“I’m generous right? Maybe I should film you tonight yeah? Make the prettiest little videos and share it to him—oh, why just him? I could show my pretty whore around to everyone,”—another slap—“That’s what she likes right?”

He couldn’t see you, sure, but he knew you all too well, he knew your teeth were clamping down hard on your lips, your tight little hole clenching and moans begging to be let out.

You heard him hum again, “I don’t think you can take me tonight doll,” your eyes widened—“Toru’ please!” Another slap—sharper.

You let out a groan—“I’m sorry sir,” you instantly mumbled, “Please please please, I can take you, gonna take you so well—wanna be your-”

“-Fuck toy?” He interrupted your rambling, “Wanna be my plaything? My pet?”

You nodded immediately, then and there—any and every ounce of shame having left already—“Beg,” he got up from behind you—walking painfully slow as he admired the view of your upturned ass—“Beg just like I’ve taught my pretty slut.”

And that was your cue, body lifting off the arm rest, not even daring to pull down that tight fabric of your skirt to compose yourself—just falling on your knees instantly—Satoru manspreads all the time, an invitation to do the obvious—but you just find it 10 times hotter when he’s mad at you.

You crawled in between his legs—hands reaching up to undo his pant—to beg properly—your fingers fumbled around the button when—“Did i say you could do that?” His voice was sharp, condescending.

Your eyes widened, hands retracing their path immediately—“Sorry sir,” you muttered under your breath—he sighed.

“You’re never gonna learn, are you? Never gonna realise your place Hm?” He leaned towards you, fingers gripping your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together—“Whores are dumb right? You’re a dumb whore right?” You couldn’t help but nod helplessly, eyes boring into him.

He chuckled at that, faux—“Do it, like I’ve taught you to,” every word was punctuated by his foot judging your thighs, “Yes sir,” your whimpered.

And just like that, you found yourself raising yourself just close enough his clothed crotch, Palms rubbing at his hard-on, “Use yourself in the right manner,” you heard him say and you sighed, it would in fact prove to be a long night.

Your face found itself moving close to his crotch, his musky scent registering inside you well, a scent you loved—all together, you could feel his fingers grip your hair gently, pressing your face roughly at his crotch. You couldn’t help but gag- your body itself trying to back off as your nose filled in with his scent, and it got harder to breathe.

You heard him ‘tsk’ at your attempt and his hand pulled your head roughly away from him—“What have I told you doll?” He sounded like a disappointed guardian with his tone, “You can gag all you want, cry too, but never back away yeah?”

You nodded, remembering his instructions well, “Sorry,” you muttered and he shook his head- “Let’s do it again yeah?”

His voice was so gentle, so opposed to how he was in the moment as he bucked his hips into your face, tears lining your eyes as you did your best to keep your face pressed to his crotch.

“Good slut,” he finally muttered, as he let you back away slowly, “This what you wanted to do to him yeah?”

“No,” you shook your head quick, “Never.”

He scoffed—“get up,” he prompted- watching lazily as you scampered around him, “To the bed and I wanted you naked and in position,” it wasn’t anything new- you’d heard him say it all the time but just the way this time he didn’t smile, just the way it wasn’t a text either, just something about everything told you that it would be a different night.

———

Your teeth bit down on your lips hard—the pressure building on your cunt slowly, ever so slowly, it ached.

“Toru’” you whined—a sharp sting—your head tilted to the side while your cheek beared redness form his slap, face scrunching in pain.

“Sorry,” you mumbled—voice barely audible—you lay there on all fours, naked, ass raised in all its glory—red and marked with his handprints—his.

“And I dared to think I've taught you better doll,” his teeth were gritted, jaw clenched as his hands pumped his own cock slowly—savouring your sight.

“Such a needy cumslut you've proved to be hm? Just begging for attention— can't even take my name right,” another sharp slapped he landed, grabbing and squeezing your ass roughly—“so wet and messy when I haven’t even used my damn cock,”

You could only groan as the slow buzz of the vibrator in your cunt increased.

“Sir please,” you begged, “Pleasepleasepleaseplease wanna cum so bad I’m so close,” all falling to deaf ears as he did nothing but squeeze your ass.

No words—before you could even realise what was happening you felt his fingers spreading your folds—so pink and puffy and pretty, he sighed at the sight.

Your shame and embarrassment only grew as he got close, nostrils inhaling your scent and he spat on your slit—“Don’t even need it, do you?” He voiced our loud—“Greedy little slut.”

You couldn’t help but let out a high pitched gasp the moment his tongue contacted with your clit right after his words—your back arched, tears streaming down your puffy cheeks as you tried holding onto your release.

“Gonna cum sir—please,” your voice was shaky now, the feeling was overwhelming, and you knew you were approaching your limit.

But not yet- you could take more, right? And so Satoru continued, tongue lapping onto every last corner of your folds—the vibrator long forgotten and removed.

“You cum tonight without my permission and this whorehole of a pussy you’ve got will not milk me anytime soon yeah princess?” He’d pulled you up now, closer—sweat and tension heavy in the air as he grasped onto your throat and pressed your back to his chest.

You wanted to shout no, you wanted to say you’d be his good girl but in the way his fingers bullied your pussy—his cock had not even touched you yet—the angry tip leaking Precum—in these ways you could only babble.

Soft moans and whispers of his name leaving your mouth, head almost empty of all thoughts.

He didn’t seem to notice yet—not for a while, you already had shifted though, slowly losing control over your body.

“Turn,” he prompted—you complied accordingly, dying to be validated, dying to hear him call you his good girl.

He pushed you into your back instantly—your eyes were still puffy, tears and drool marking your face—“such a needy, filthy one you are huh?” His voice was meaner now—your eyes, dazed.

“I could replace you, you know,” in an instant—too mean—what did he mean? Your thoughts spring fast—replace you?

“I’d have a million people lining up you know, far fucking better at this,” tears lined your eyes again, not of pleasure or pain this time—hurt.

Your thoughts ran wild—had you been that rude to him? You wondered as much as your tiny fucked out mind could manage—was he really angry at you?

“No,” you whimpered—his cock lined up at your entrance finally—and just as you were getting what you’d care we all day, you didn’t want it.

Not anymore.

But you hadn’t said it yet- not your safe word—Satoru continued, his vok pushing deep into you.

Your eyes rolled back, fingers clutching onto the bed sheets beneath you as you but your lip—“Toru!—Fuck, s’much, wait,” your pleas seemed empty, hollow.

He thrusted in again, deep—almost pulling out before coating his cock with your slick and pushing in deeper—you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Red!” You screamed—his eyes widened, pulling out of you instantly, guilt all too evident.

Silence crept in slowly, for a good minute only the buzz of the forgotten vibrator sounded in the room.

Satoru held your form close, palms sweaty and clammy, the scent of sex heavy in the air—“You alright doll?”

You shook your head, his heart sank.

“Shit,” he began, “I’m sorry I didn’t- I didn’t notice-”

“-would you actually replace me?” Your voice was small—eyes wide as you gazed up at him.

His brows furrowed as he looked down at you—“what?”

Confused—until it came crashing down—“Of course not princess,” he smiled, hands stroking your hair, “You’re my only one you know that right? Only one.”

His voice was firm—eyes scanning for any bruises that may make you uncomfortable as he kissed your forehead—“Anything I say during sex is highly superficial ok?”

You nodded—he chuckled, “I’m sorry,” he paused, “did I get too rude? Mean? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head again, earnestly, “You couldn’t,” he smiled, “sorry,” he mumbled again, softer against your skin.

“S’fine,” you mumbled back—“let me get you cleaned up?” His eyes gazed at you—“unless you wanna…?” A mischievous smile played at his lips—“still haven’t given my princess her climax, have I?”

You giggled—you loved him.

“I’ll take that as a yes alright?” He giggled this time as he fared his hand through your hair, “you’re the prettiest and the best girl you know?”

You smiled, so did he.

“And I’m so proud of you too,” he continued, laying you with your back on the bed, “Such a brave little doll yeah? My doll.”

And let’s just say if he didn’t get you to cum instantly on his fingers, with all that praise you’d have done it anyways.

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year ago

Text

fic rec friday 47

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

Damnit, Pidge by spirkylurkey

Pidge has some top-secret-classified-don't-tell-Keith-info that she accidentally lets slip to, you guessed it, Keith. Lance is an embarrassed mess. Keith isn't faring much better, to be honest.

this one made me LAUGH the way that this all pidge's fault and she's literally like. well. you shouldn't be so gay then. and she's right!! they're so dumb i love them

2. Operation: Faking It by @writeonclara

“What the hell, guys?” Pidge squawked, wrestling away from Matt. “Why are you pretending to be a couple?” Or: Matt and Lance pretend to be a couple because Shiro and Keith are clueless as hell.

do you guys remember shatt?? i remember shatt. adashi will always have my heart but shatt will literally always be funny bc ofc thats ur fic name. anyways. this fic is mostly klance but the entire concept is just so ridiculously goofy that u have to laugh. do you like lance and matt? do you like fake relationship to real relationship? do you like inverted tropes? do you like pining? do you like comedic jealousy? then this fic is well and truly for you because it has all that and more

3. all's well that ends well to end up with you by @coruscatingcatastrophe

Keith's jacket gets ruined, so Lance decides to be a good Samaritan and give him his. This is the beginning of the end.

megan's fic literally make me want to eat cement i'm so serious. i've read and been obsessed with TONS of her stuff but this one???? this fucking one???? oh god the slowburn kills me. the blossoming realisation that oh god we've been dating this whole time huh. the CHIVALRY...............a romance novel in the truest of senses and i am going to fry

4. as long as it won't separate you from me (i'll be fine) by @coruscatingcatastrophe

A little intrigued—not that she’d ever admit it—Pidge begins to climb the stairs. But before she even reaches halfway, the door—slams shut. All on its own, or so it seems. Pidge pauses, brows creasing in confusion, as she turns to look down at her dog. “Did you see that?” she asks. Peculiarly, she notes that Bae Bae’s fur is bristled, and he growls at the door before barking twice. That’s weird. Bae Bae never growls. Turning back to the door, Pidge feels unsettled, but she tells herself not to jump to ridiculous conclusions. There’s a logical explanation for everything. Maybe there was a gust of wind from the air conditioner, or the doorframe isn’t level. Whatever it is, she’s going to figure it out. - Or, a Beetlejuice au (kind of). Pidge isn't a fan of her new house, Lance and Keith are the ghosts haunting her attic, and together they hatch a plot to convince Shiro and Adam to skedaddle out of the house. There may be demon summoning involved. But seriously, Adam. Getting your hair set on fire really isn't that bad.

HAPPY (late) HALLOWEEN!!! ive been thinking about this fic all october and finally let myself reread it. ive never loved beetlejuice more than when i read this. it's so fun!! so interesting!! pidge gets a chance to shine!! klance are so!!! the way it had the story of beetlejuice but adapted well!! im!!

5. never thought i'd see the day in my life by @coruscatingcatastrophe

But Keith has somehow gone even paler in the short amount of time he’s been at the table, and he shakes his head. “No, something is . . .” His gaze flickers back to Lance, and he’s startled to find that Keith’s eyes are purple. They’ve got to be contacts. Ridiculous. As if the mullet and gloves and personality weren’t enough. Keith pushes away from the table abruptly, looking incredibly put-off now. “I, uh—gotta go,” he mutters, before angrily gathering up the backpack he’d dropped into the chair next to him and storming out of the cafeteria. “Huh,” Hunk says. “Well, that introduction could have gone a bit better. Don’t take it personally though; sometimes Keith’s just like that.” - Or, a Twilight au starring Lance as Bella, Keith as Edward, and the rest of the Voltron gang as themselves. Lance is insufferable, Keith is awkwardly trying to figure out why Lance is the way he is, and along the way they fall in love, or something. It's probably, definitely the best love story since Twilight itself.

now ive never read twilight and i refuse to on principle. but i didn't find this one creepy and instead it was super fun and dweeby and lance is indeed a ray of sunshine, thank you megan for noticing, and it turns out when the story isn't a hetero mormon wet dream it's actually a good time!!

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

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shirecorn · 2 years ago

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What’s your favourite mlp species? Have you got any thoughts on kirins/niriks?

Request ponies, species, etc I havent done here

I am both a creature and character designer, so I have a lot of thoughts about MLP world!

Paradoxically, the non-pony species interest me less than the actual ponies, because they are all really solid and well done designs. There's not a lot I would reinterpret tbh, and drawing them would just be taking what they have and making them realistic.

The non-pony creatures tend to be more detailed because they are generally cameos and don't need to be animated doing nearly as much as ponies do.

Compilations by AndoAnimalia on deviantart

The kirins are really lovely designs! I love the ankle tufts, and how the stripes on the horns glow when using magic. Really nice creature design here.

The Nirik part was a little boring, and the plot/conflict was not sophisticated enough for my tastes. But it is a show for young children, not biology majors. Lots of room for worldbuilding and headcannoning lore to flesh it out, but I prefer something I can completely rewrite. The kirin lore was fine and I'm fine leaving it as-is.

Another good one is breezies.

I love them they look so stupid. Their wings are over the top but perfectly designed to sell the "piece of lint in the wind" delicateness they have.

as for my favorite creature?

Bug momma

I really love changelings and love how edgy they are.

The reformed changelings are decent but I would have designed them differently. I may take a crack at them later on if I feel the need. I feel like they should either be pony-adjacent (with manes at the very least) or further removed from ponies. this middle ground is kind of like having a bug monster alien that just happens to be bipedal, with humanoid shoulders, arms, and hands for no evolutionary reason (the reason is practical effects and putting a dude in a costume but shhh)

all this is about creatures though, and its very important to talk about character design whenever we discuss creatures. A character's personality should be the quickest read about them, rather than their biology. If something is too complex, the personality gets lost because you have to spend your details adding ankle tufts and articulated fingers.

The mane six, and basically all other ponies, use the same base puppet, and each unique part needs its own turnaround. Every prop and hairdo and eye shape needs to be understood from every possible angle because these are main characters and they need to be be able to turn, spin, and do karate without the animators having to make up the back of applejack's hat every time she faces away from the camera.

Having the same body means animators know how to draw both rarity and rainbow dash from a back 3/4 view with one hoof raised. So from a technical standpoint, simple is best.

Even in big budget productions, where every character has a different body with different close and face shapes, main characters are simplified so that the audience can quickly read pose and expression without getting lost in complex clothing designs or face makeup. Reading poses and expressions quickly is very important to understand and empathize with the character before they've moved to the next pose. You need to understand the emotion the character is feeling and the action they are doing in a split second.

you start to get more complicated and an entity becomes less of a character and more of scenery because it has so much detail its harder to read the emotions from one frame to the next.

There's a reason he doesn't wear his funny hat for the duration of the movie! It's much easier to read his emotions without it. Adding lots of detail and weird props is something designers do a lot when introducing a character if they want to make that character feel mysterious or "other" because its harder to relate when your brain is stuck on the details. also masks just do that by nature of being masks.

where was I going with this

My little pony g4 has great creature and character design.

If it were high budget, major studio with All The Money, there might be more variety in character proportions, and more distinction between the different pony species. But its a puppet animated show that was always meant to make marketable designs to be turned into toys. We just get lucky when there's a good story to tell along the way

#ramble machine #ask #shire screams

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txttletale · 1 year ago

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I really agree w/ all your Hades opinions! I played that one first and then went back to all the other SG games, and was surprised at how much better the storytelling was in Transistor and Pyre. Hades is really fun and clearly high quality, but its world and characters feel so much shallower compared to its predecessors, and I really despise Hades himself, so the "reconciliation" stuff falls flat for me. Since you like Pyre, I wondered if you would maybe want to talk about your general feelings on it a little bit--what you like about it, what you don't? It's the least popular of SG's portfolio, which is so sad to me because I think it's the weirdest and most interesting one of the bunch, both story-wise and gameplay-wise (even though my personal fave is Transistor, which is still excellent, I think Pyre does more things I admire).

pyre is one of my favourite games of all time so i would love to talk about it! i mean. where to begin. i love its world. i love the very clever decision to make all the proper nouns and fantasy stuff hoverable hyperlinks so that you, the player, can be filled in on important background information about the world without the need for stilted expository dialogue:

i love the world of pyre. it's genuinely beautiful, it's my favourite of any of supergiant's worlds: the downside looks genuinely unique, it looks at once forbidding and electrically pretty.

like god damn. but what i love most about pyre is the story and characters, and how they're both not just communicated to you through the traditional methods this game employs (dialogue, flavour text) but in a way that's woven into the gameplay.

like, pyre isn't a game about fighting, it's a game about sports. it's a very high-stakes sport, but it's a sport -- for those who haven't played it, the plot of pyre is that you and your band of wacky misfits have been banished to a secret underground world. from time to time, the stars align and one person can escape this exile by winning a game of fantasy baskebtall -- and because it's a sport, the game's happy to let you lose. you can lose and that can just be part of the story. on two different occasions, i chose to throw plot-critical matches in pyre--once because an NPC on my team asked me to and once because i felt like the other guys deserved to win more than the protagonists did. and the game treats that as a valid choice, a valid thing to happen in the story! it lets the game explore opportunities and feelings and situations that a more traditional game where the player 'has' to win in the 'canonical' ending isn't capable of and it does it really well

and similarly there's something very very clever done with the character writing. getting to know characters better -- finding out why they were exiled, what's at home that they want to return to, why they want to get back to the surface -- is the same process as improving that character's stats and skills in the basketball games. the result of this is that the characters you know best, the ones you're most emotionally invested in getting to escape exile, are also the ones who you've been relying on to win your basketball games! it's by far the best iteration of the 'switch up your playstyle or else' mechanic that supergiant obsessively puts in their games because it ties directly into the emotional stakes of the story and can make it a genuinely difficult choice to liberate someone who's an essential part of your team but you've just learned has a desperate need to escape before something terrible happens to their loved ones outside.

also its got the best romance route of any supergiant game. i dont give a shit about meg or thanatos when i've got sandra the unseeing

#ask #pyre #long post

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the-martyrfication-of-the-matron · 1 year ago

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Hey new to the aphmau fandom, like days old, and i was wondering what order to watch her rps as its kinda confusing to me

This is going to be such a long post because there’s so much to say! (There is a TLDR at the end if you don’t care about specifics and just want a watch order)

The inclusion of side-series and stuff just convolutes things a tad. But I promise, you will get an answer.

First;

I suggest a side series to start. Which isn’t to say that they’re all short, they’re just not relevant to the Big Two.

But, yeah, just dip your toe in the pool first.

Dreams of Estorra- never watched it. But it’s popular. It should be on the Aphmau Stories channel instead of her main one, if you can’t find it there. If someone can offer me a summary for it I would love you.

A Royal Tale- a weird mishmash of Disney and the Aphverse. A lighthearted fantasy show with some adult humour, Lo (< an icon), and romance. It will introduce you to some of the characters from the other series without overwhelming you with references you won’t understand. Aarmau, but they’re exes who hate eachother. It’s only a roleplay

Mermaids Tale- similar thing to ART, a mermaid au for Aphverse. Very Aarmau centric, there’s lesbian mermaids. I cant actually remember the plot but it got me into my train (the singer) phase. It’s only a roleplay

Mod Mod world- never watched it, but it did get a sequel that I’ll bring up later. Again, would love a summary from someone.

My Inner Demons- it’s one of the only non-aphmau centric shows and doesn’t include ANY aphverse characters. The main character is Ava, and it’s set up like a Harem Anime with a bunch of male demon love interests for her. It has quite adult humour, but it’s pretty cute aesthetically and deserves a second season. It’s only a roleplay

HeartPoint- a girl sees how much people like her platonically and romantically by little stats that appear above their heads. I believe Aphmau is the only Aphverse character, and whilst the romance is pretty obvious to me, I’ll leave who she ends up with blank as that’s kind of a part of the series… iirc. It’s only a roleplay.

There may be more… I’ll have to look.

Anyways.

So.

Onto the behemoths.

Minecraft Diaries is the first of the Roleplays to really get her popularity. It’s a medieval fantasy, with both roleplay and let’s play elements in it. It ran for three seasons, seasons one and two being 100 episodes each, however season 3 ended short. It was never completed. Season three is regarded as the worst season, and most either don’t consider it canon or haven’t watched it at all, but I consider it canon solely because it introduces us Lo, who I love. The two main ships when it was popular were Laurmau and Garmau, and if it weren’t for MyS, they probably still would be treated as such.

If you want to watch the main series in chronological order, I would watch MCD first. It is my favourite tho so maybe I’m biased. The lore can be contradictory and the quality slowly improves over time. It started to get remade with Rebirth, which you can watch before hand to get a general gist of the show before you dive into it, though it isn’t incredibly accurate to how the original is. Seasons 1-2 are on Aphmau’s main channel (I think), but season 3 is on Aphmau Stories. You don’t need to watch MyStreet but, you will probably end up watching it anyways.

Brief intermission: Void Paradox. The Mod Mod world sequel, is also a side series for MCD s1, and was made years afterwards. Very high quality, probably one of the better side series in general, and deserved a continuation. MMW isn’t required to watch it, but for context on Laurence and what’s up with him, MCD s1 is.

The next is MyStreet. It started as a modern Au for Diaries with the side stories and The Big Move, however began to be made into its own series. It begins as a slice of life, and is very light hearted with an Aarmau emphasis. It faces a genre swap for Season 4, before reverting to a slightly more solemn version of what it once was, before it goes back to a darker vibe for s6. Until s6, it existed in a separate universe to MCD, and you don’t need to watch MCD to understand it (though it does provide some context for s6)

There are prequels and side series (and a three episode sequel, which is fun). PDH is the main one, and because MyS was made first, they can contradict, however you will need to watch PDH S2 for context for MyS S4. Otherwise you won’t know the villain or understand what the fuck he’s doing. After them, there is PDH: Graduation days, and FalconClaw University. Neither are particularly important, but again, FCU offers some context for s4, so… you could watch it. It’s just not mandatory. There’s Aphmau’s year after s4, which is just a recovery mini-season, and there’s Her Wish which was released before s6, but set after it. And I will give them credit, they did preplan when they wrote her wish and watching it after s6 and realising everything they did to retain continuity… oh it’s good. Her wish does require watching MCD S3/late s2 though, it won’t make sense without it.

TLDR;

If a series isn’t Void Paradox, Mystreet, MCD, Phoenix Drop High or FalconClaw Uni, you can just watch it whenever.

MCD / PDH / MYS is my personal favourite watch order, because it’s all chronological. But just go with whatever you vibe with!

MCD is the OG and fantasy Medieval, but is a mix of roleplay and let’s play, and doesn’t have entirely consistent lore. It has a partial remake and it’s final, incomplete season, sucked.

PDH is higher quality and a highschool drama with fantasy undertones but less relevant, and is a prequel for MyS

MYS is the most popular and is a slice of life with more fantasy undertones, as well as very high quality, but suffers through genre swaps, and requires some context from the other two in later seasons.

#aphmau #aphverse #aphblr #minecraft diaries #mcd #mystreet

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teethstitch · 22 days ago

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Since you are into TMNT I am curious what’s your opinion on each of the turtles in general since you seem to be into all iterations of them /gen question

ooh fascinating question. unsure if you mean each individual turtle from each gen or just each gen itself but i'll go into both!

so i actually have a tmnt powerpoint i'm working on right now, so i'll lift some stuff but obviously i won't lift it all, ill go in franchise order. shows and comics in order (show specific comics will go in the show sections) and then movies. spoilers for pretty much every single thing i talk about. if you haven't finished a specific iteration just skip the paragraph about it

Mirage

I havent read too much of mirage, though i'm sure its good i find it a bit visually noisy and actually struggle to read it- my vision is fine as far as i know and i don't usually have trouble with other black and white comics but man mirage is hard to read, whenever eastman would draw for idw annuals or issues i'd have a hard time getting through them because even though the style is cool i just can't see anything, so yeah, that for the time being kind of sums up my thoughts on mirage, i think the shredder worm shark is funny as hell though. i suppose the only thing of note i have an opinion on is the april race debate - wherein by one of them she was thought of as white and the other thought of her as non-white (i can't remember which ethnicity), so based on that i've seen people say that means she's white or the other ethnicity but since they're co authors i've just gone with the idea that mirage april is biracial. that's about the only mirage thing i can actually give my two cents on, moving on!

1987

I really like 1987, i haven't watched it all but trust me i'm slogging through it o7. i adore the animation mistakes, the way they give one turtle another turtles lines, and i think the characterisation is pretty solid. sometimes the show can feel tedious to watch personally, which is why i love saturday morning adventures, it's a much more concise, thought out version of the show itself and is a beautiful love letter to the show (they also finally sent usagi home :'D). obviously it went on for way longer than it realistically needed to, a majority of episodes basically mean nothing unless they introduce new characters, its the one piece of the franchise, lots of filler, i still think it's great though. i also love shredders revenge, it was the first tmnt game i've played since joining the fandom and similar to SMA it is a genuinely beautiful love letter to the community and franchise, i'm an avid cross stitcher as well so pixel games make me happy because i can stitch straight from the game sprites, which i've been doing :3. I love how the turtles are characterised, Cam clarke is iconic and i love shredder and krangs dynamic, irma has become the love of my life and much to my dismay i love the neutrinos which sucks because they're only present elsewhere in idw, i'm doubtful but begging Tottmnt to bring them back.

2003

2003 is by far my favourite of the shows, i actually enjoyed fast forward unlike much of the tmnt fandom, i thought it was fun, though sterling was meh to me, i just didn't like him - even though i liked fast forward i can personally admit the show dealt with similar issues to 1987 of just. extending itself. when they were able to focus on plots and do arc episodes was great, but the seasons could have definitely been cut down sometimes because the formula of an episode was beholden to ads, which meant every 5 minutes someone had to say something shocking or nearly die only for it to be dissuaded or continued after the ad break, watching it digitally now with no ad breaks was kind of funny though because i would be up late sometimes and delirious and the 03 singers yelling 'teenage mutant ninja turtles' at me while mikey or other did a cool move entertained me much more than it should have. I really love that the opening scene is recreation of the first scene in the mirage comics, even if i have trouble reading it i think thats cool and fun, i love all the turtles voices and characterisation, i never have any complaints about voice in any iteration but especially not here, they all feel perfect. the fandom is a big part of the joy of 03 for me, but i do still love watching my favourite episodes back from time to time, and like any good 03 fan i can scream about good genes and same as it never was like a banshee, though i do also have a lot of thoughts on other arcs dw. usually i find it easier to pick a favourite turtle iteration to iteration but man is it hard here, they all have their moments, i think the humour and the darkness are played really well (cough except for when leo got stabbed in the shoulder and i had no idea where he got stabbed until he got a scar next episode because there was no blood). I was drawn into the fandom by rise and it will always hold a special place in my heart but 2003 is far and away my favourite iteration. forever sad about the dreamwave comics being cut short and no one picking them up. we deserve more official 03 comics.

IDW

I'm also still reading idw - don't kill me its long and also theres just a lot of turtles stuff to get through, okay? I really have enjoyed it thus far, i jumped for joy when the neutrinos were revealed, i hated chet with a passion and they somehow wormed me back in with the fugitoid reveal, i will say similar to watching 03 digitally and just getting hit with the before ad and after ads cutaways back to back, there's a bit of an annoyance in trying to find and read everything in exact order, because missing a micro/macro or short side story like the secret history of the foot can kind of screw you over, so when someone says they're reading idw its not actually the 150 issues, its well over 200, though i haven't counted specifically. if you read the powerpoint pictures you'll see the artist death match, basically i was just going to pit them against each other by choosing the best design of reoccurring characters and the artist would get the point, there are some great artist who had a hand in this series, i can't deny all of them are talented, but man some of them are just not for me, getting through an arc with a style i don't like is a breath of fresh air, right now my main example of a style i like is Mateus Santolouco - not all the character designs are my favourite but the secret history of the foot clan was gorgeous, especially karai, she's always been one of my favourite characters. i enjoy idw, i think the worst thing i can say about it really is sometimes theres styles i don't like and akin to other comic series it can be stupidly difficult to figure out the exact reading order when you're not there from the beginning.

2012

possibly controversial (definitely, i'm lying to myself), 2012 is probably my least favourite of the franchises shows (no, its not below next mutation, just talking animated main shows). just to explain myself, I do LIKE the show, but of the shows i find its the least in line with my humour, the gross out humour is a little more uncomfortable for me given the 3d style, i can't deny the story is probably the most well done of any of the shows thus far, i do enjoy the story and i think even non relevant episodes to the main storyline do a good job of serving some kind of purpose to character development or giving the viewer a look into the world, it is by no means a bad show, i would never say it is, i do like it, but for myself personally i struggle to sit down and rewatch because of some of the things i pointed out and some other things like the way apritello is written, leorai (shudders), idk why but 2012 splinter just annoys me, i will say the turtles and april are really enjoyable characters, i find most of the characters (karai, casey, some of the minor villains even) pretty engaging, everyone feels really fleshed out and similar to 03 the voice acting is on point, though this iteration isn't my favourite in terms of rewatchability, i audibly cheered when i realised shelldon was greg cipes, when he said booyakasha i was on the floor weeping. 2012 is a show that i would watch on occassion when it was on, its the one i technically grew up with, though i wasn't really into tmnt as a kid, but greg cipes was pretty much my childhood as a big teen titans kid, as well as mae whitman, i was a big tinkerbell kid, so those 2 are a huge highlight of the show for me. my feelings on 2012 are pretty confusing, but i still do like the show, its just if anyone (like you) asked, i would have to say its technically my least favourite, but again, by no means means that its bad, because it isn't, it's just not really as for me as the other shows. the '12 comics i enjoy, i haven't read too many but the batman crossover was sick as hell, style wise the 2012 comics are solid, while i don't think 2012 looks bad as a 3d show i would personally be more drawn to it if it was 2d like the comics, i just prefer 2d.

Rise (2018)

As previously mentioned, like many others rise was my formal introduction as a teen/now adult into the tmnt fandom, for a while it kind of stood out as my favourite before 03 topped it, but still i love it with all my heart and i rewatch episodes frequently. i think the voice casting was on point, i had recently finished ducktales so ben schwartz and josh brener were welcome surprises, kat graham was in perth for a con recently and i was so sad she wasn't scheduled for the melbourne run of that con and was heavily tempted to go just to see her, rise april is definitely my favourite of all aprils, while i think its a fun dynamic when April is an adult and sort of an aunt figure to the turtles, rise april really killed the older sister thing, every episode she's in is a treat, omar miller and brandon smith (am i meant to put middle/second names i have no idea) were stunning choices for raph and mikey, rise raph is so brotherly and silly, he just brings so much heart to raph, Mikey is so much fun in rise, i can get caught up in inflection and the way a line is said and there's a lot of variety with Mikey's lines, its funny and i couldn't ask for better delivery, i think they're all good at it but brandon knocks it out of the park with mikey. So, partially the blame goes to 03 but rise was also what got me into usagi yojimbo, it's kinda funny how the only show without a canon usagi is the one that kinda goes the hardest in adding him into stuff. the format of the show not getting to focus a lot on plot and mostly just being one off episodes obviously isn't ideal, but for what story we got i really enjoyed, i also just liked the one off segments, the majority of them i really liked and found funny, for me this is probably the show that makes me laugh the most out of any of them - while i tend to participate nowadays more with the 03 section of the fandom, i still love rise to my core and still interact with it here and there.

Ronin

As i said before, theres a lot of tmnt to go through, but uh. everyone talks about the last ronin, so i detoured my regular watching and reading to dive into it. I liked it, there are things i would love answers to but i might just need to reread to know because middle of reading my cat threw up and i had to pause to clean it up, so yeah- there are things i'm worried to have possibly misunderstood, like the dissolution of their treaty of sorts, misremembering or misunderstood that part of the story is a possibility but if its not that i'm still desperate to know who actually betrayed who first, what actually did the turtles/foot truce in? i haven't gone into re-evolution or lost years yet, i've been meaning to but occasionally i'll get a new shiny hyperfixation and when i return to turtles i tend to dive right into the shows or long running comics first compared to stuff like ronin. i am very excited for the game and the film, little nervous at the idea the film will be live action but i'm mostly just going to wait and see, no sense hating it before i even know what it looks like.

Mutant mayhem/tales/2023

i know i said movies last but its kind of different since the movie was before the show- so deal with it ig. mutant mayhem is a great movie, emotional, funny, i really like it, and the style translates beautifully into 2d animation for the show, i don't have much to say on the movie itself, i really liked it, i watched it with my mum who really liked it and she can be pretty hot and cold when it comes to movies. Tales is a fun show, i similarly don't have too much to say, i struggle to rewatch things i've watched semi recently because i get burnt out on it quicker, but i'm super excited to watch this iteration continue, i'll miss rise like hell but i think tales shows great promise and i'm looking forward to more of it!

Bayverse

if you're wondering why i skipped the 2007 movie its because i haven't watched it, semi similar to mirage the style is a lot, but not similar in the way that i can actually tell whats going on in 07, i just. don't like the style. bayverse is pretty controversial but i like it enough, i don't really rewatch it because the 3d models freak me out, but i love the fanart people make, i do think the character designs themselves are very good, peoples fanart definitely helps you look at them more clearly as well. I still don't visually get leo's bone necklace placemat thing. splinter in the first movie is too furless and he needs to be shot. the movies themselves i don't find too special but i don't dislike them, i remember watching the second movie because some cousins and i went out with our nan and my younger cousin wanted to watch it so we did. i had very little turtle exposure as a child but out of the shadows was part of it.

Original trilogy

I quite like the original trilogy, it's very campy but i think its a fun watch, similar to mutant mayhem i watched these with my mum, we really only watch the movies together and we had a good time, we both struggle to really take them seriously. we had to pause the first movie for a WHILE to laugh at the bathtub scene, i still laugh about it frequently and remind her of it just as often, 'i'm coming....... tO A DECISION' also was funny, the third movie is there also.

Batman vs tmnt

Holy crossover, batman. i really like this movie, as a tmnt fan and a batman enjoyer this movie is just so good, many have said it before and i will continue to say it. the movie is so full of easter eggs, i'm still trying to figure out if that portrait in the turtle van is of mikey or jennika - everyone is characterised so well, the dynamics between the batfam and the turtles is done amazingly, alfred and mikey as a duo is delightful and as always the voice acting is so good, i would sell my soul to hear kyle mooney and baron vaughn as mikey and donnie again. eric bauza is always fun to see given his history with tmnt, so seeing him actually be a turtle for once was great, i really enjoyed his performance as leo, i still can't believe darren criss is raph. i'm a gleek and a huge starkid fan and i can't hear it but i know its true. its fucking insane. the movies story and pacing is just really good, and is one of the few animated tmnt iterations to actually let people get hurt, have visible injuries and get fully murdered on screen, when i saw that foot ninja DIE die i was fucking pumped, a lot of the other video iterations lack actual tension because yeah shredder wants to murder a guy but this is family programming, so he wont and can't. but you watch people die and suddenly that hologram the foot tried to kill doesn't just feel like a 1987 thing where the one time the villains are able to do real damage its a decoy, it feels like a truly necessary precaution, had batman not done that, someone would have died, no doubt. i've spent an extended period of time analysing the easter eggs in this movie, especially when it comes to the turtle van itself, i LOVE the van design, the fact its an old rv, the call back to 87, the spare tire being an anti-foot symbol, the grafitti saying 'Foot Stinks', the April calendar with a picture of a turtle on it, its all a genuine treat. I love this movie, i think it's the best tmnt film ever, i love rise's film but to me nothing holds a candle to this. rarely do i only ever have one criticism for a movie but the only issue i have with the movie is the fact they clearly imply mr freeze DIED and that mutated batman killed him but they NEVER TOUCH ON IT AGAIN. i need directors commentary, i need a script, i need SOMETHING to tell me what happened. anyways. the fighting is so much fun, i love it, it's delightful to watch a tmnt fight and to be fully dialed in because it feels like a real fight, 03 had some pretty good fight scenes but in essence they were very cartoony in the way they won a lot of the time, i just think the batman vs fights are golden, especially the penguin fight, but again, all of them are really good.

so yeah. i have a lot of tmnt opinions, there's more i could say about each iteration individually, especially the shows, but i'll leave it with a list of my favourite characters and their iterations.

IDW Karai, 2012 and 2003 karai, they mean the world to me, i'm a big karai fan and i think they're great. of course the neutrinos, as little as they appear they mean the world to me. 2003 casey is definitely my favourite casey, second is probably idw casey. Batman Donnie is so much fun, his lack of social awareness is really played up but it feels natural and very donnie and i love the think he does where he moves his head like he's going to hide it in his shell but doesn't so he's just poking out. Rise april has my entire heart, she's the best and i'd die for her. 03 and 24/MM Leo, they're both great. really the entire rise cast has my heart. also the 03 cast but special shout out to 03 splinter he's just very sweet. i have to stop now because i could yell about even more characters forever, so last one i would say Alopex, i think she's a great addition to the franchise and i hope more people adapt her.

in case you weren't wondering because i'll tell you anyways, i do have oc's, i just don't really draw that much or particularly well so i don't post about them, i do write about them but i don't publish it bc i don't think anyone would care much, i don't really dip into oc fic either so.

so yeah. general thoughts on most of the franchise! if you want me to expand on any of the thoughts i shared here i'd be happy to but for now my fingers ache from typing so bye :3

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2003 #tmnt shredders revenge #rise of the tmnt #tales of the tmnt #tmnt 1987 #tmnt idw #tmnt mirage #batman vs tmnt #tmnt 2012 #mutant mayhem

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