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fluentmoviequoter · 14 days

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Call a Truce

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: You and Tim have a rivalry that began when you were rookies. Years later, you continue competing in everything you do, even when you're helping Tim get out of a dangerous situation.

Warnings: Tim gets hurt (tased, cut, broken ribs, goes to the hospital), angst, mentions of robberies, fluff! pretty standard Rookie warnings I think

Word Count: 3.6k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“You’re going to pass your rookie exam,” your TO said on your second day of training. “But there’s one thing I need you to do. Score higher than Bradford.”

And, like that, a rivalry was born.

Years after you started competing against Tim Bradford to be the best rookie, your rivalry has only strengthened. Everyone in your station knows about your competitive natures, but to outsiders and visitors, it seems like you and Tim hate one another. There has never been any real animosity, only competition and everything that comes with it.

“We’re riding together today,” Tim says.

You turn quickly, surprised to see him standing beside you. “What?” you ask.

“I just talked to Grey. We’re riding together, but he wouldn’t tell me why. Something to do with the string of robberies, I presume.”

“And he thought you would need help from a competent cop,” you reply with a nod. “I guess I can make time for that.”

“If that’s what you need to hear to actually try for once. I could find the guy on my own faster than you can get out of the shop.”

“We’ll see about that,” you scoff.

“We certainly will. The first one to spot anything gets a point, making contact gets five, and the arresting officer gets fifty. Deal?”

You look at Tim’s hand and wrinkle your nose in faux disgust before you shake. “You’re going down, Bradford.”

“And you’ll break the fall, boot.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Bradford!” Grey yells. “Let’s go! Roll call doesn’t wait for you.”

You smirk as you step backward toward the door. “Such a bad cop, Bradford. Keep your social schedule on your own time.”

“You wish you were part of my social schedule,” he counters.

“At least you’d have one then. When I have fifty-six winning points, maybe I’ll invite you to the celebration.”

Tim rolls his eyes and follows you inside. He can’t remember the last time he did anything with you that wasn’t a competition. You’re both good cops, though, so as long as you get the job done, your work rivalry isn’t hurting anyone.

“What’s it like?” you ask from the passenger seat.

“What’s what like?” Tim replies.

“Being a control freak that still loses.”

“Cute,” Tim mumbles. “At least I didn’t have to wear long sleeves for an extra month like someone I know.”

“Yeah, Lucy didn’t deserve that,” you agree. “You’re just a terrible TO, so you knew she wasn’t ready.”

“Or maybe she picked the wrong cop to idolize,” Tim snaps.

“Tim? Did you just admit that Lucy thinks I’m a better cop than you?” you ask happily. “Because I knew she had good taste, but I wasn’t sure if you knew that.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking for a suspect instead of obsessing over how people see you?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be driving instead of getting angry because I’m right?”

Tim takes a deep breath and returns his attention to the road. You push his buttons, but he pushes you just as hard. Everything between you is competitive, there’s a deep-seated need to prove that you’re better because of how your TOs treated you in your boot days.

Your phone rings, and you wave Tim off before he can tell you not to answer it.

“Detective Lopez,” you greet, though you say it toward Tim. “How can I help you?”

“Can you come back to the station or are you too busy flirting- I mean competing with Tim?” she asks.

“I can come back. Tim?” you begin.

“Got it,” he interjects softly. He hits his blinker and enters a turn lane to take you back.

“I’ll be there in ten,” you tell Angela.

“Thank you. We got a lead on where the stolen goods may be stashed but we’re shorthanded.”

“No problem.”

Angela ends the call, and you look at the road as you think about the details of the case. Something isn’t adding up. They know plenty about the suspect, but not where he lives or where all of the stolen property ended up. The guy seems homeless.

“Guess she figured out that you’re not going to find anything out here that I can’t find alone,” Tim muses.

“Or she knows that I’ve got a better chance of blowing this case open if you’re not aimlessly dragging me around the city.”

“What’d she say?” Tim asks.

“They found a lead and don’t have enough people to trace it. You can ride alone, as far as they know, so I get to track down tips.”

“I’ll find our guy before you find anything helpful,” Tim declares.

“Yeah, right!” you argue, turning in your seat to face him. “First one to find something that the detectives deem useful wins.”

“Wins what?”

You purse your lips as you think. There are not many rewards left that you and Tim haven’t already competed for. Maybe it shouldn’t be a material item, you think.

“The loser admits, in roll call tomorrow, that the winner is a better cop,” you suggest.

“It would be fun to hear you say that,” Tim says quietly. “Deal.”

He extends his right hand over the console, and you shake it firmly before sitting back in your seat. When he arrives back at the station, you exit the shop and salute him sarcastically before you walk inside. You begin to worry very quickly that the lead Angela called you back for may not be anything. No matter what, you have to beat Tim because you can’t lose.

“Control, this is Bradford, can you get me information on who owns 1219 Larga Avenue?” Tim radios.

“1219 Larga Avenue is leased by Corporeal Corporations,” control answers.

“A shell corporation,” Tim says to himself.

He’s been following a vehicle matching one listed on the case report. It isn’t the suspect’s vehicle, but one of his acquaintances’. Tim parks down the street and watches the house from his side mirror for several minutes. Whoever was driving the car seems to be staying for a while.

“Control, this is Bradford. I’m approaching the house, code 6-Charles.”

“Assistance on standby.”

Tim opens his door and then hesitates. In his uniform, he has no chance of getting close to anyone in that house. He could approach the house next door to gather intel about how many people are inside, but that could spook them and get innocent people hurt. The third option, one he will never admit to learning from you, is to play the part of a stupid cop at the wrong house.

“Officer!” a woman yells across the street.

Tim gestures for her to quiet before he closes his door and walks across the street. “How can I help you, ma’am?” he asks.

“There was this car that kept driving up and down the road yesterday! It was a young boy and an older man, and they would just drive down, turn around, and come back. I live here, my children play here, and if this is going to become a cesspool of gang people, someone needs to do something!” she explains.

“Ma’am, it sounds to me like a man may have just been teaching his son how to drive on a residential street, which is neither illegal nor gang-related. If you see them again, call the non-emergency line and someone will come make sure everything is alright.”

Tim has dealt with his fair share of stupid complaints, but he can’t even be bothered by this one. Not when something malicious may be taking place four houses away. The woman huffs as she turns to go back to her home. Just as she turns off the sidewalk, someone shoots.

Tim dives behind a nearby car and braces himself against the back bumper. Based on the spray of bullets destroying the car, Tim guesses it’s numerous semi-automatic rifles that he’s up against.

“Dispatch, I need that backup! I’m taking heavy fire,” he radios.

A moment later, dispatch calls, “Code 99” with his location. Tim curses; he doesn’t need every cop in the county coming to his rescue, just one or two. The bullets slow, and Tim moves carefully to the edge of the vehicle. Three men stand in the yard, and he aims his gun at the one closest to him. While he’s replacing the magazine into the gun, Tim shoots his leg, and he falls to the ground. The others open fire again, and Tim spins to be out of sight again.

A heavy hand lands on Tim’s shoulder, and before he can react, a knife is pressed to his throat. Everything goes silent as he’s lifted to his feet and shoved toward the sidewalk. The men have taken their injured partner inside, and Tim knows that once he’s in that house, he is as good as dead.

“Look, man, I just came to answer another call. Let me go and nothing happens,” he tells the man pushing him.

“You already called for backup.”

“And they’ll go to the other house, see a shot-up car. The most you have to do is answer the door and say ‘No, officer, I didn’t see a thing.’”

“You won’t see a thing if you don’t shut up,” the man growls as they near the door.

Tim stands up straighter, and when the knife falls toward his chest rather than his neck, he kicks backward and into the man’s knee. The knife scrapes across Tim’s uniform, but he doesn’t feel it as he turns to face the door and grabs his gun. His hand reaches the holster, but it’s empty. Tim looks around and realizes that his gun must be behind the car. He retrieves the knife from the ground and prepares to run for the car, but two prongs from a taser enter his chest before he can, and he collapses beside his fourth assailant. Sirens echo in the distance as Tim fights to stay conscious. The man on the porch squeezes the trigger again, and Tim only feels the first twitch of his legs before everything stops.

“LAPD, open up!” you yell.

You are moments away from punching the door when it swings open. Immediately, you recognize the long-haired man as your robbery suspect. The chances of him being alone are slim, though, so you can’t think about Tim right now, only about getting this man in custody without getting hurt or killed.

“How can I help, officer?” he asks, leaning against the door to block your view inside.

“I just have a question about the car parked down the street,” you explain with a friendly smile.

“All of my cars are here in my driveway. Maybe ask someone else.”

“So, you don’t know who owns the grey sedan with all the bullet holes and a dead body in the back?” you ask, raising your brows.

“Dead body,” he repeats. He looks past you like he’s trying to figure out how that got there.

“The owner?” you press.

“Oh, sure, uh Miguel, I think is his name. Big guy down the street.”

“Thank you so much for your help. Could I just get your name for my report?” you ask.

“Cody Lambert,” he answers, still looking past you.

You’re surprised that he gives you his real name. Your lie about the body in his car jarred him more than you expected.

“And are you here alone today?” you ask.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He shifts slightly, and you can see an empty living room behind him. You have an opportunity, but if you take it and you’re wrong, you may be putting Tim’s life on the line.

“Could you point out which house Miguel lives in? I’m terrible with numbers and directions.” You laugh at yourself to sell your dumb act and pray that it works.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, stepping out onto the porch.

He closes the door behind him, and you waste no time pushing him down onto the ground. You keep his face turned toward the dirt so he can’t yell as you secure the handcuffs.

“You’re under arrest,” you say in his ear. “And if you yell when I pick you up, I can’t promise anything. If you stay quiet, though, I’ll get you the best pro bono attorney in the state. Understood?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your offer, so you drive your knee between his kidneys and repeat, “Understood?”

He groans against the ground before a muffled, “Yes,” reaches your ears. You pull him up and walk him to your shop where it’s parked in front of the next house. As you reach for the radio to alert dispatch, a gun is fired inside the house.

“Too late,” your suspect says as you turn to look.

You abandon the radio on the floorboard of the passenger seat and slam the door. As you return to the front door and kick it in, you keep your gun ready. There isn’t time to waste in a situation like this, and Tim is counting on you. If he’s still here and still alive, that is.

When you reach a closed door at the end of the hallway after clearing the other rooms, you raise your gun before you and kick the door open. It hits the wall with a thud as you step over the threshold. One of Cody’s known acquaintances blocks your path, with a puddle of blood beneath him. You look past him to clear the room, but see what you’re looking for before you finish.

“Tim,” you say when you see him stretched out on a broken twin-sized bed.

“Took you long enough,” he mumbles. “And I won.”

You lean over him as you holster your weapon. He is injured and needs assistance, but his radio is smashed and yours is in the shop.

“Are there more of them?” you ask.

“There’s four.”

Tim hasn’t opened his eyes yet, which concerns you. More concerning, however, is the knowledge that there are two more people around this house. You cleared it, but they could be waiting in the attic or just outside.

“I’ll go call for help,” you tell Tim. “Stay alert.”

As you turn, heavy footsteps rattle the walls of the hallway. You look back to Tim and know you can’t leave him here. Even if you do argue, compete, and tease each other, you’re both cops and you have to protect one another. Plus, you care about him, and it hurts you to see him like this. Carefully, you push the door closed and lock it. There’s nothing in the room to block it with… except for the suspect on the floor.

“Did you shoot him?” you whisper. “How?”

“His gun,” Tim mumbles.

You tilt your head quickly, surprised and impressed, though you know Tim has more training in this kind of thing than the average cop. The guy is heavy, literally dead weight, but you roll him against the door as an extra cover before you sidestep the blood puddle and return to Tim’s side.

“Where are you hurt?” you whisper as you kneel beside him.

Tim hums, and you know he’s fading fast. You murmur an apology before you begin unbuttoning his uniform. When you begin to pull it open, you notice two taser prongs buried in his pec muscles. You pull them out quickly and squeeze your eyes closed when Tim grunts.

With his shirt open, you can see a several bloody spots, a scrape against his chest, and swelling on his right side. Gently laying a hand over his t-shirt, you know that his ribs are broken.

“I need to look, Tim,” you say as you grab the bottom of his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

You pull his shirt up carefully and inhale sharply when you see the bruises littering his torso and chest. The swelling looks worse without fabric over it.

“Can you breathe well?” you ask.

Tim shakes his head, a small movement that you feel more than see. There’s a chance that his broken rib has punctured a lung, and he needs medical attention now.

“Thank you,” Tim says. His eyes are still closed, but you watch his face as he says it.

A few moments later, Tim moves his left hand to catch yours as you look at the scrape spanning his chest. He squeezes your wrist softly and your eyes raise to his.

Tim blinks his eyes open and waits until he finds your face to ask, “Why are you helping me?”

“Tim,” you begin. “Why wouldn’t I? You can’t tell me that you think I hate you because of our rivalry. That’s all it has ever been, competition.”

Tim nods as his eyes close again. “I thought you’d be a better cop than me,” he mumbles. “But I got a promotion first.”

You chuckle, trying to ignore the pressure behind your eyes as you watch him lose the battle to stay conscious. In this moment, you feel something that you’ve never experienced before. All the teasing, and the competition to stay close to Tim, were different than this. The care you show him now helps you to see him differently.

Similarly, though his thoughts are jumbled in a mix of pain and adrenaline, Tim sees you as he never has before. Your soft touches, apologies, and clear care and concern for him awaken something in him. Maybe it’s been sleeping or maybe it wasn’t there before today, but Tim likes having you close like this.

“Promise me something,” you whisper. “When we get out of this, we’ll know that we both won.”

Tim nods, and you carefully remove your hand from his. With your gun, plus the one Tim used to kill Cody’s goon, you climb out of the window to get Tim help and the first aid kit from your shop. He knows you’re a good cop, but without you by his side, he can’t take the pain and the worry together, and he finally succumbs to the darkness again.

“I feel fine!” Tim argues with the nurse. “I can go home. There’s no reason to keep me here.”

“The doctors want to observe you overnight to ensure there’s no long-term damage, Officer Bradford,” she replies. “If you stop complaining, it will go faster.”

You knock on the open door with a bag in your hand, and the nurse waves you inside before she leaves. Tim looks at you from his hospital bed, and you offer a small smile. In the minutes after you left Tim in the house, you called for backup, searched the house again, put another suspect in custody, and got into a one-on-one fight with the last one. Tim doesn’t know just how much you went through in those five minutes that you waited for more backup, and he doesn’t need to. All that matters is that he’s safe and is getting better.

“How are you?” you ask.

“Fine,” he answers, watching the bag in your hand.

“Yeah, it’s for you.”

You pass him the bag with his favorite food, a play-by-play of last night’s game, and a picture of Kojo from the dogsitter. As he looks through it, you decide to tell him what you stayed awake thinking about. You finished filing your report as the sun rose over LA, and then you spent the few hours before you could visit Tim thinking of only one thing.

“I think we should call a truce,” you suggest. “A lot has changed in the last twenty-four hours.”

“I don’t want a truce,” Tim answers quickly. “We push each other to be better. We need that.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Then what do we do? Because I can’t go back to just competing all the time, not after what happened.”

“What happened?”

“If you didn’t feel it, I can’t explain it to you, Tim,” you answer softly, wringing your fingers together.

“You want to be more than competitive friends?” Tim guesses.

You shrug, and he shakes his head.

“I won’t stop competing with you or-“

“Taking figurative shots at me?” you finish playfully. “Better than real shots. I’m fine with not changing that part of our relationship, Tim. Besides, you and I both know that our friends are nosy, and it would be awful if we just started being nice to each other.”

Tim nods, and after a moment, looks at you. He extends his hand toward you, and you happily take it.

“Would you like to go to dinner after I get out of here?” he asks.

“I’d love that. I’m also planning to pass you during the next promotion. Then you can call me Sergeant when you try to tell me you’re better than me.”

“We’ll see about that,” Tim responds. “But I get to pick where we go since I did win the last competition.”

“I saved your life!”

“But I found our guy.”

“Maybe we both won,” you remind him.

A few weeks later, you kept your promise and now outrank Tim. Not for long, you assume, because he’s a great cop with a bright future, but for now it’s fun to remind him that you’re a Sergeant while he’s still an Officer. “Whoever makes the first arrest today gets to pick where we go on our date Saturday,” you say.

“Whatever you want, Sergeant,” Tim answers.

He tilts your chin gently before he kisses you. You sigh in contentment, happier than ever with Tim. When he releases you, you both climb out of his truck and walk toward the station.

“When I get a position on Metro, I get to say it first,” Tim says as he opens the door for you.

“That’s not fair!” you argue, blocking the doorway.

“If you’re scared that it’ll happen too soon, just say so,” Tim taunts.

“Fine,” you agree, offering your hand to shake.

He shakes your hand, then pulls you into a quick kiss.

“Have a nice day, Sergeant,” he calls as he walks away.

“You too, boot.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #the rookie abc #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

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iznsfw · 1 year

Note

Eunbi and Taeyeon threesome where Taeyeon unnie teaches Eunbi how to properly please her man 👀

In Absentia Lucis, Tenebrae Vincunt

Part two of Dulce Periculum | Previous Part | Next Chapter

Girls Generation's Kim Taeyeon x IZ*ONE's Eunbi x Male Reader Smut

10,144 words

Categories | sex-ed_professor!Taeyeon x valedictorian!Eunbi x student!Reader, mommy kink, lesbian sex, squirting, breeding

Content warning | teacher/student relationship, age gap (all legal, needless to say), slapping, degradation

mobile masterlist | masterlist

This piece is edited by and dedicated to @midnightdancingsol and @capslocked, two of my favorite writers. Thank you so much, I appreciate it! Originally had a different plot, but ideas hit, and I've been working on this ever since. There wasn't supposed to be mommy kink here, but then I realized that no one has written Eunbi calling someone mommy here before, so I wanted to try that but with my top two, Taengoo ;) IZ's best girls coming your way... now!

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

The clock says 10 AM sharp, and the skies are a warm sight of lively blue. Morning has long been here, yet for Kwon Eunbi, it’s an hour she can view as nighttime. With the school uniform keeping her warm from the wind of the powerful air-conditioner, she feels right at home. For once, she cares not for paying attention to lectures or reprimanding her classmates’ buzzing conversations. For once, she puts herself first—not her schoolwork, not her classmates, but her.

It’s not like she can continue her usual routine of studying even if she wanted to. Her body’s worn from endless days of studying and playing. Her forearms, formerly milky white, are now peppered with purple bruises. With the number of textbooks she’s flipped through under a flickering lamplight, it’s likely that she'll need to replace the lens of her round prescription glasses.

Still, she’s Sleeping Beauty herself. Chocolate hair falls messily but prettily over the pillow she rests on (AKA your arm) as she finds solace in slumber. The softest of snores barely make it past her full lips pressed together.

You gently rock her side to side, admiring how pretty she is even when she’s resting.

Too bad she's sleeping due to stress.

During class.

For a girl like her, classes are a lifeline. School in general is. She would never dare fall asleep in class. However, here’s the deal: she’s been put through stress harsher than the healthy amount (stress can be healthy, you’d argue, because if someone has nothing to stress about, then surely they aren’t alive?), and she’s starting to give out. Her grades start to stagger as time goes by. She almost passed out during volleyball training and could barely button her uniform right for school because of how tired she is. Eunbi’s leading the volleyball team for your senior year after all; it should be expected, but it just isn’t fair for her, and especially not for you, the one you’d argue cares for her the most.

Seeing her tired and battered makes you refuse to rouse her. She deserves the rest, more than anyone.

Jo Yuri, the annoying kid in class sitting at the desk beside you, thinks otherwise. She raises her hand high in the air mid-discussion of the importance of condoms, attracting the attention of your teacher.

“Professor Kim!” says Yuri; she stands up proudly. Roll your eyes at her, warning her to stay in her lane, but when has Jo Yuri ever done that? She quirks her brows back at you mockingly.

Kim Taeyeon glances at the girl's direction. Shit. Wait, she might have missed her—she’s looking back at Yuri with an inquisitive look. “Yes, miss Jo?” she asks.

“Eunbi is sleeping.”

“I see that,” says Taeyeon simply. She looks at Yuri from behind her gray-framed glasses with a slightly squinted look. “Anything else less of the obvious I should be informed of?”

A few small chuckles pass around the room. Although people won’t say it directly to Yuri, they all revel in her humiliation. Yuri’s the definition of a brat, and not the good kind. Her parents have funded the school's activities for decades, and because of that, she thinks she’s got a one-way ticket out of anything.

Unfortunately, you aren’t the train conductor. You can’t usher her away for every passenger’s convenience.

“W-well,” Yuri answers, a little unsurely now, “isn’t it basic class etiquette to be alert for discussions? You can’t make an exception for her.”

Taeyeon’s lips create a small, sarcastic smile.

“Kwon Eunbi works hard, Miss Jo,” Taeyeon says. “If anyone deserves a cut of slack, I’d say that it's her, someone who’s been truly conscientious, and not one who doesn’t put in effort even from a place where most of it has been done for her.”

Yuri’s cheeks transform into two red roses. “B-but, but you scolded me when I fell asleep during class.”

“That’s because you’re not an honor student, Miss Jo.”

The quietness is almost death-like. If it went on any longer, the classroom could become a graveyard. Everyone’s thinking the same thing. You can see it from the looks in their undead eyes.

“Now, Yuri,” continues Taeyeon, smiling, “would you like to say anything else?”

“No, Professor.”

“I thought so. Please take your seat.”

Taeyeon lifts her gaze from Yuri. She then addresses all of you, the calm yet piercing look in her eyes never fading.

“It would do us well if the only interruptions my class will have from now on are insightful questions and answers.

“Shall we continue?”

The class murmurs in response, their words echoing in the room. Yuri glowers in her seat, suddenly taking particular interest in her manicured nails. Even from afar, you can see her red ears.

The combined choir of young voices responding to Taeyeon rouses Eunbi from her sleep. Her eyelids flutter, and she gazes at you with sleepy eyes. She still hasn’t registered everything.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you say with a grin.

Eunbi looks at her surroundings, then at Taeyeon, who’s continuing to teach.

“Oh God, oh fucking fuck.”

Suddenly, her notebook and pen are all on her table, clicked and open. She glances at you with panic in her beautiful face. “What did I miss?” she asks frantically.

You don’t know how to tell her that you’ve witnessed a once-in-a-lifetime sighting: the annoying kid getting a taste of their own medicine.

But you smile instead.

“Nothing, babe.” You kiss her forehead. “A whole lot of nothing.”

“Class dismissed,” Taeyeon announces. “Have fun at the intramurals, everyone!”

The class files out rather slowly. Some are caught up in conversation about her earlier scolding of Yuri, and others are still arranging their books into their backpacks. Whoever’s already taking their exits are yelling their goodbyes, waving at her cheerfully; she waves at them, too, with a kind smile of her own. Despite her strict upholding of rules in class and her no-bullshit approach to discipline, she wants to show her students that she’s still a good teacher. She remains the same: someone who wishes to make a healthy connection with her students.

The last to leave are the boy and his little valedictorian of a girlfriend. It’s been a year since they two had gotten closer. Although they never officially announced it, Taeyeon can see the status of their relationship in the little things: their joined hands that draw envious looks, Eunbi's head on his arm, and the playful touches. It’s sweet seeing connections grow between her pupils, but she can’t help feeling a little...

Jealous?

Is that what it is? Taeyeon contemplates as she sits back down.

Yes, she is jealous, but not because she misses the proud, youthful feeling of being an adult nearly out of high school. She misses those days, that’s for sure, but it isn’t the root of her feelings. (She’s certain—not entirely yet—that it’s because of their relationship.

She’s only been teaching for a year, so she makes it a habit to catch a pretty face among the masses. For example, Kim Minju is pretty, but the honor student has a different kind of prettiness in her possession. It... attracts her.

And so does the boy.)

Said boy looks at Eunbi expectantly whilst he waits at the doorway. He’s the delinquent, isn’t he? His wrinkled uniform is enough indication—the punks always dress like that no matter the dress code or situation. They could be at their grandfather’s funeral and they’d still dress like a missing kid who’s learned to adapt to the streets.

“You coming, Eunbi-ya?” he asks her.

Does he ask her that privately? When he’s fucking her? When he’s pinning her down to the bed while her parents are out of town, as he gives her a hard and well-deserved pounding? He’d look so good doing that; he's far more attractive than he likes to make it to be. He’s nineteen, after all—boys are still like that at that age, even though they’re barely teenagers anymore.

Taeyeon can’t take her eyes off him. She doesn’t know how to; it’s like they're permanently glued to his movements, like she's only capable of looking at him and nothing and no one else.

What do her moans sound like when he’s fucking her?

Turns out she can, but only for the girl. She’s saying something to her boyfriend, but with how much she’s absorbing her—her body, her face, her cute little smile—she doesn’t quite hear everything.

Her moans would sound so pretty; she speaks so prettily that she’d sound good even when she’s below him. She’s a screamer, I bet, she looks like the type of girl who’d cry when—

“Professor? Excuse me, professor?”

Speak of the fucking devil (... angel?).

It was unusual of her to be caught by her students without her guard up. She has to remain focused. When those large, bouncy things are directly under her nose only restrained by a school blouse a tad too small, it’s difficult to.

“Yes, Miss Kwon?” asks Taeyeon, brought back to Earth.

“Um.”

Eunbi has her hands behind her back. Her eyelashes flutter beautifully as she guiltily fails to meet her eyes, leaving much to Taeyeon’s imagination about a fictive good little Eunbi, who’d sit on her teacher’s plaid-skirted lap and say soft, innocent things like that and—and—

“I’m sorry for falling asleep in class,” Eunbi says in a small voice. “I didn’t mean to. I was just so tired, I… I couldn’t help it. And I know that’s not a good excuse—”

I swear, if you put your tits in my face one more fucking time, rambles the voice in Taeyeon’s head—(it’s been there for a while now, and comes to life whenever she sees the wind blow Eunbi’s skirt up just right, or when the school collar fails to hide the forbidden view when she bends down to pick up a fallen pencil); it’s not my fault anymore if I do anything.

It’s such a raw, wrong thought, because it isn’t Eunbi’s fault either that she’s so tempting. It’s not her fault that those lips of hers curl downwards in the cutest, most pitiable angle or that her body is naturally carved to fit more than a handful. However, when one knows what they feel is morally repulsive, they tend to put the blame on anyone else but themselves.

“Water under the bridge, miss Kwon. We all have our moments.”

Eunbi looks surprised. “Really?”

“Really,” Taeyeon repeats.

Eunbi smiles widely. Even the way she grins is pretty. “Thank you, professor,” she says gratefully, bowing ninety degrees.

Taeyeon chuckles amusedly. “No need to bow like I’m an emperor, of course. Just do your best in the intramurals. I believe in you.”

“Yes—”

“(,) but I don’t think I can do this. Please, oppa.”

“Eunbi, that’s nonsense. You’re a great player, you’re gonna be fine.”

Star player and top student Kwon Eunbi squirms fearfully. That many achievements to her name and she still has doubts about her own abilities.

“I'm... I'm really not,” she says in a small voice.

She looks around the covered court with fear dancing in her large brown eyes. All these students—her classmates, anyway—are rooting for her. Thirty-six and more have all laid their eyes and expectations on her. She figures that’s probably what scares her more rather than the game itself.

“I don't want to do this,” she whines.

“But you can’t do anything about it now, can you, baby?” you ask her. Your hands frame her nervous face, rubbing your thumbs over her cheeks.

“I can, actually,” she says. “I can just go up there, say ‘oh, fuck this, fuck you all; I’m not doing it,’ watch them go bananas over it.”

Her lips have a sarcastic side to the smile it holds, but you know her. You know that she’s actually considering it. For the first time in her school life, she’s contemplating ditching it all for something, anything that isn’t this game.

She’s looking down at her rubber shoes again, but you raise her face to look you in the eyes. “You signed up to play. You’re a varsity player now. So you have to go do it whether you like it or not.”

Eunbi presses her forehead to yours and closes her eyes with a sigh. “I know,” she whispers. “I know.”

Considering your first intimate encounter was rough lustful sex, the two of you actually really care about each other. It made you realize that your crush on her isn’t purely from lust. You care about her, and you’re not happy about the amount of stress she's been under. To be fair, the whole school is suffering, including you, but you’re a known failure. You couldn’t give less of a fuck if your future transformed into a person, went on its knees, and begged you to take it seriously. Exam season is another Tuesday to you: nothing to care about, nothing new.

But for Eunbi? Exams and games mean everything. She has her reputation of being an honor student and overachiever to maintain. She has her parents, who are constantly pressuring her to join every extracurricular activity under the sun, to please. Additionally, due to a particular school board teacher’s brilliant idea to schedule the intramurals a week before the exam season, she has to juggle hours of eternal volleyball practice and studying and tutoring students to make it through the year. She barely has time in her packed schedule to breathe.

While the students on the bleachers are roaring and cheering excitedly in their color-coded shirts, she's in a tight sleeveless white shirt stressed to death.

There’s only a few minutes until the most important volleyball match of her life. What could go wrong?

(Everything.)

“Baby,” you say softly. “Baby, listen to me.”

Near tears, Eunbi looks up at you. “Yeah?” she asks.

You kiss her sore fingers, the insides of her thin wrists, and the bruises from the volleyball that mark her forearms. Kiss her where it validates her pain. Kiss her where it hurts. Kiss her where it means something.

“Whatever happens in the game,” you tell her truthfully, “I’ll still love you. I’ll still be proud of you. So just do your best for me, okay? I’ll be there all the way.”

“You promise?” Eunbi raises two fingers wrapped in medical tape.

“I promise.” Make your promise by gently grasping the digits she holds up. “Hell, I bet Professor Kim would be holding up a ‘Kwon Eunbi 4 The National Team’ tarpaulin.”

Eunbi giggles. You both know who you’re referring to: your sex ed professor, Kim Taeyeon. She started teaching at your high school just this senior year, and looks young for her age. Many students adore her, but she only really has one favorite, Eunbi. Always particularly sweet with her, just like earlier, and always attentive to her intelligent questions. If it weren’t for Eunbi being eighteen going on nineteen and in high school and Taeyeon a teacher, anyone would have thought the latter had a crush on her.

Her defense of Eunbi earlier just adds to your suspicions.

If Eunbi reciprocates those alleged feelings, you’d see why. Taeyeon is a charmer. She’s watching the basketball game with crossed arms and a stern look behind her round spectacles. Without saying anything, she attracts people. Anyone can see how beautiful Taeyeon is. She gave a short welcoming speech earlier and you could hear the oohs and ahhs of both parents and students alike.

“Oh, hush,” Eunbi says, waving it off, but she’s visibly more cheered up. “She likes me, but not that much.”

“If she liked you less, she wouldn’t have let you off the hook for napping.”

“It’s called empathy, dear oppa,” says Eunbi, flicking your forehead. “Don’t s’pose you know what that means.”

“Someone’s got a crush on their sex ed teacher.”

“And if I do, so what? She’s really beautiful.”

Take your biased eyes off Eunbi and you’d see that she’s beyond the statement of just “really beautiful.” Taeyeon has the look and aura of an older friend who’s blunt but loving, and would help you out of sticky situations, but not without tough-love advice. Her hair and minimal makeup always look perfect and natural, besides the fact that she looks quite young for her age.

But you won’t see that until later.

“See? If you need anyone to do your best besides me, do it for professor,” you add to make her laugh. “Okay?”

Eunbi wipes the last of her tears. She’s chuckling as she shakes her head at her current emotions. She’s Kwon Eunbi, for fuck’s sake, why is she like this? “Okay,” she says. She sounds a little more assured now. “I will. Thank you, oppa. I love you.”

“Same here.” You kiss her cheek. Comb your fingers through tangled strands of her side fringes left unrestrained by her high ponytail and pat her shoulder. “Ready?”

“Yep. Never been more ready.”

Eunbi’s team lost the game.

It wasn’t her fault. A lot of her volleyball teammates kept missing whenever the white ball was plunged back over the net. And by “a lot,” you mean fucking every one of them. She basically hardcarried the team. More bruises started to appear on her beautiful arms, and she looked more and more discouraged as the game time quickly passed.

The first thing she did was rush in your arms after the game.

“Oppa,” she muttered softly. She’s all sweaty and wet, but you didn’t mind. She needed you, and even if she needed you while covered head to toe with acid, you’d still hug her.

“I’m here.”

The second thing she did was weep.

“I fucked up,” Eunbi moaned, burying her head further in your shoulder. Now tears replaced the sweat that coated your skin. “I… I couldn’t catch the ball, and—”

“That’s not your fault, Eunbi. Your teammates were shit.”

Even as she continued to cry, she went to their defense. “Don’t talk about them like that. They did their best.”

If the situation wasn’t pulling her self-esteem down this much, you’d laugh in her face. “You call that best?” you asked.

Her incompetent teammates made you infuriated. They caused your girlfriend’s wane of confidence and more tears right after. It only made your anger grow from a flame to a fucking house fire.

“I… I just need a break,” she murmured. “But I never get it. It’s all just stupid fucking games, stupid fucking quiz bees. I’m just some toy to be passed around whenever there’s a competition that needs winning.” She chuckled sarcastically. “Nothing more.”

“Eunbi—”

“I’m gonna take a shower,” she said firmly, putting a full stop to the conversation. She was done here. She didn’t want to go back.

Eunbi took to the school showers after that like she said, and dressed back into her little school uniform for the resumption of classes later. What you didn’t know is, after everything that happened, she still intended to get dirty.

The program is still going on. Lee Chaeyeon and the rest of the dance club are performing a dance number as an intermission. As the trendy pop beat resounded through the school grounds, Eunbi dragged you back to an empty classroom and sat you down.

“Eunbi!”

Her knees land on the tiled, classroom floor. “Mmm, just... oppa, let me do this.” Eunbi frustratedly pulls down your jeans. She wipes the back of her hand on her lips. “I saw oppa staring at my chest earlier. He was more focused on them than the game.”

She’s wrong for that. Well, partly wrong but—

“Eunbi, aren’t there—” Tap her gently on the cheek when she keeps pulling your pants down. “Eunbi, oppa’s talking.”

Eunbi looks up. “Yes, oppa?” she asks.

“Aren’t there other ways to de-stress? I—I can buy you some ice cream. Baskin Robbins, just how you like it. We can even cuddle later if you want to. It doesn’t have to always be like this.”

She’s licking your cock sloppily now, as if she needed to do it or she’d have to repeat a whole game again. Your cock is her source of serotonin and dopamine—even chemistry can’t teach her that. (Sorry, professor Myoui, you’d say; but it’s the truth.)

Eunbi, with her pouty lips and ponytail coincidentally perfect for what’s about to happen, shakes her head. “No,” she says firmly. “I want oppa’s cock right now. I don’t want anything else.”

She sucks on your cockhead severely, treating it like her own candy. The pleasure hits, even though it only affects the tip of your length. You moan softly. She moans, too, and it goes on even without touching herself. She loves being a good girl for your cock. That alone gets her off.

If the school knew of the little tutoring incident that sparked your relationship, they’d be scandalized. That part is something you know secretly makes her wetter than you can imagine. The cliché, teen love story-ness of it all—you, a guy who wouldn't give two fucks about school even if you were paid to do it, and her, someone who’d die rather than put off a day of studying but would get on her plaid skirt coated knees for you—is something she’d like to roll her eyes at, but it's kind of destiny, isn’t it? Just like the stories.

What if they know? The teachers could suspend you. Better yet, expel you and put it on your permanent record.

Oh, but they don’t need to know about how fucking pretty Eunbi can look like when she’s being good for you. You can submit the squirms of her thick yet toned thighs, the passiveness evident in her eyes, and the eagerness her voluptuous body holds to pleasure you and herself as evidence. Nothing more is needed to prove it.

They don’t need to know.

Eunbi pauses her effortless bobs of her head to moan. “I love your cock, oppa,” she confesses, though it isn't really a confession when one thinks about how evident it is. Her tender licks already hold adoration in them.

Chuckle. You can get used to this. “More than me?” you ask.

“Nooo... oppa, I love you, too. You know that. But, hmm,” she licks your cock worshipfully, “this is number two. Mwah.”

“Good girl. You can touch yourself, you know.”

Eunbi gives you a clever grin. “I don’t have to. I have you.”

Touché.

She resumes sucking you off, letting out soft “Mmph”s of pleasure and satisfaction as she goes. Over time, she’s gotten better at giving you head. Her sloppiness begins to feel fulfilling, and she learns to make good use of her sweet, full lips as she wraps them on the sides of your cock and around it. Occasionally, she pushes up her glasses so that they don't slide off her nose while she goes about her pleasurable blowjob, which adds a more wholesome and cuter side to the daring fiasco the two of you are engaging in.

“Mmm, love this cock.” Eunbi gives loving kisses to your length. Her tongue erotically stimulates it with languid licks and sets fire to your emotions. “I can’t live without it. Hmph. All I'm ever good for.”

“Eunbi,” you say, concerned, “don't—”

“Please, oppa,” she says. Her eyes make contact with your own, and she pouts prettily. “Let me do this. I need you.”

Your cock rubs the inside of her cheek. It makes a visible imprint, making her look like she’s munching on ice. She ensures to devote soft laps of her tongue on the sides of your length. When she takes it all in, you gasp. You’re too wrapped up at her tongue also licking your heavy balls to be distracted by her whimpering. The deeper your cock goes inside her pretty mouth, the tighter her throat becomes. Her hands squeeze your thighs powerfully.

“Fuck.”

“There’s more where that came from,” she says cheekily.

“Oh yeah?”

She nods.

“Show me, then.”

Her lips part, as if going for an open-mouthed kiss, but it simply takes a couple inches of your length, caressing them with the softness of her balmed tiers and wetness of her mouth. She withdraws, then repeats, but now with more of your cock in her mouth. She looks up at you expectantly for approving reactions, but you give them, and would have given them without her expecting you to.

“Yes, fuck, yes, Eunbi.” Her hair tangles in your hand. She whines a little when your tip reaches further places down her throat. The jeers and yells of school spirit outside you’d love to join in, but you'd choose Eunbi's cute moans any day of the week, weekdays through weekends. “Take my cock. That’s a good girl. My good girl.”

Although she finds it difficult to deepthroat you, you can see her shiver at being called that. She likes it, oh, yes she does: being told she’s under your ownership, and being treated as such. With your cock fucking her tight throat and your hand pulling on her hair like you hate her rather than love her, it's all true. True and clear.

“Love you, oppa,” she says in between suckles of worship on your dick. Her eyes are watery, but now from the pleasure of having her mouth used. Oh well, it’s better than negative.

“Love you, too, sweet girl.” That’s another thing you like to call her: good girl, good sweet little thing, which sounds so corny but fits so well with her. And she likes it—and you can’t deny a good girl of being exactly that. Besides, she looks so sweet with her lips parted to fit your cock like that, and her eyes full of tears. She’d—

The door creaks open. Oh, curse interruption. Goddamned interruption.

Wait—

You look up. Oh, fuck—

“Professor!” you and Eunbi yell out in surprise.

A stuttering Eunbi withdraws her mouth from your cock, looking at her teacher with bewildered, brown eyes. You aren’t sure what exactly she’s thinking, but you can place fear in that face of hers. You’re pretty sure you look red as hell, too.

Kim Taeyeon is standing at the door. She’s watching the two of you closely. How long has she been watching? Or... or perhaps she just caught the two of you in the act? Her face holds an expression of nonchalance, like she’s been expecting this to happen.

All the earlier thoughts come back. You were so turned on by the thought of getting caught, but now that it’s happened, you realize you just put Eunbi’s future at stake. You might not care about your own, but you care about Eunbi. She has a whole, long and successful life in front of her, and you might have just ruined it.

“P-professor,” Eunbi stutters. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes grow wider as Taeyeon approaches her. With each step Taeyeon takes, she grows more scared. “It’s, it’s not what it looks like! I was just—”

“Shhh.”

Taeyeon pushes the side of her finger to Eunbi’s lips. There’s little distance between them. Eunbi’s knees would have knocked severely into Taeyeon's if not for the shushing index.

Eunbi’s flustered by their closeness. Her voice, normally so confident when stating answers in class, is broken in pathetic stutters. “P-professor,” she tries to say, weakly, her hands waving about, “it’s really not what it looks like. I was just—we were j-just…”

“Resting!” you pipe up, getting to your feet. It’s stupid, but it’s the only thing you can think of as an excuse.

Eunbi nods. “Yes! Resting! I was lying on his lap!” she adds helpfully.

Taeyeon stares at you two coldly for a few, long seconds, then chuckles softly. “Resting?” she repeats, and tilts her head to the side.

“Y-yes. And, and I was drooling, and it was—”

“Miss Kwon.”

“—really hot so I kind of, kind of fell to the—”

“Miss Kwon.” Taeyeon's eyes flare dangerously. “I told you to keep that mouth shut, didn’t I? Or do you just not listen to your teachers anymore?”

Eunbi’s eyes water. That’s the biggest insult anyone could ever tell her. School life means everything. If she couldn’t listen to her teachers, what good can she be?

You place a reassuring hand on her shoulder and step forward. “It was my fault, professor,” you say. How to get balls big enough to admit to that? Just ask Kwon Eunbi for a fucking blowjob, that's how. “I wanted a quick, uh, blow,” you wince, “so I asked her to do it for me. It wasn't her fault.”

“I knew what the two of you were doing, sweetheart. I wasn’t born yesterday. My only problem is that Eunbi doesn’t know what she’s doing, nor is she doing it properly.”

“Professor—” Eunbi tries to defend herself.

“Sit down, boy,” says Taeyeon to you. You do, hesitantly. You have no idea what’s about to happen. She gestures to Eunbi. “Miss Kwon, come here.”

Eunbi follows blindly, getting on her knees again. She’s still looking at her teacher with disoriented eyes.

“Look here, sweetheart,” Taeyeon says. She grabs Eunbi’s chin to direct her gaze to your cock. Then, she wraps her hand around your member and jerks upward. ‘Have you blown your boyfriend much?”

“S-sometimes,” says Eunbi, looking up at you unsurely. But you’re too busy gasping at your teacher's strong, firm hand to return her gaze.

“Don’t you know that the first thing you have to do is to give him a few pumps? It’s not necessary, but it’s good to get him going. Just like this.” Taeyeon slowly jerks your cock up and down, keeping a grip that’s tight but not too much that it’s uncomfortable. Her thumb rests on your cockhead to rub its sensitive surface, making you tense up.

Eunbi watches with hesitant yet curious eyes.

“Don’t go too fast now,” advises Taeyeon. “The whole point is your mouth. That’s where you want to hold nothing back. Do you understand me?”

Even as she teaches Eunbi how to pleasure you, something that's a little dangerous even for a sex ed subject, her voice remains the same as her teaching one: calm, no-nonsense, and nurturing. You’re a little turned on by it, you’re not gonna lie. Additionally, there’s Eunbi sitting there with her hands on her lap, looking like an obedient puppy as she listens to Taeyeon, ever the valedictorian.

“Yes, professor,” says Eunbi. She looks at you closely. “Oppa, are you okay?”

“Never been better,” you rasp out.

Taeyeon sifts through Eunbi's hair with her gentle fingers. “See?” she assures her. “He’s alright. He’ll feel even better when you learn how to put that pretty mouth to good use.”

Scarlet creeps onto Eunbi’s ears and face. Her thighs squirm again. “But it’s wrong,” she whispers. Uncertainty is written all over her face. “We could get in trouble for this, professor. I’m, oh, I’m so wet, b-but my grades—”

Taeyeon has had enough of her talking. She leans forward and shuts her up with a firm kiss.

Your mouth falls open.

Eunbi's pupils grow large like a cat’s in the dark. Her hands are suspended mid-air, seemingly unaware of what they should do. Meanwhile, Taeyeon has already grabbed Eunbi's tiny waist, insistent on keeping her close to her.

But then, like ice, Eunbi melts. She melts into the sin, she melts into Taeyeon. Her lips find themselves locked tighter with the older woman’s. She becomes the one who pushes forward, looking for more of that sweet taste.

Should you feel hurt? Scandalized, perhaps? Angry? You attempt to find the morally correct emotion to have in this situation, and you come to realize that you feel none of them. Instead, as you watch your teacher dominate your girlfriend in a French kiss, you’re painfully turned on.

Taeyeon lets her go after a few seconds. She cups a hand around Eunbi's full breast. Gently, she parts the buttoned lapels of the uniform and helps the girl undo her bra. Eunbi's expression remains one of disbelief and arousal. It switches to pure horniness when Taeyeon starts to suck and bite at her big, beautiful breasts. She begins to squirm, but Taeyeon holds her in place.

“Professor…” Eunbi whimpers. “Please, they’re so sensitive.”

“Shhh, let mommy do the work.” The professor squeezes the two round breasts at the same time, licking one’s nipple lovingly. “You like your teacher sucking your tits like these, Eunbi-ya?”

“Hnnn, yes,” squeaks out Eunbi, closing her eyes. “Professor, I—”

“It’s mommy,” corrects Taeyeon, kissing her student on the lips. “I thought you’d pick up on that, darling. You’re my top student, right?”

“I’m sorry, mommy. P-please suck my tits again. I’ll be a good girl.”

Never did you think that hearing your girlfriend call an older woman mommy would make you so hard. “Fuck,” you curse. You rise from the chair to join them. You’ve never heard of morality; its meaning evaporated the moment their lips joined.

“No, boy, stay there,” Taeyeon orders. “I’m going to show your girlfriend how to really ride dick.”

All of a sudden, not one article of clothing lies on Taeyeon’s body. The sweatshirt and jeans no longer hide her beautiful figure. Now, you can behold the glory of her body completely. Her form is toned and small. Her pilates, which she talks about when asked during classes, really helped carve her perfect belly. Her pink nipples, hard from the air-conditioner wind, sit on top of her handful-sized breasts, begging to be touched.

Eunbi looks like she’s just seen a goddess. Her worshipful gaze runs up and down the professor’s buttocks and breasts. Most importantly, there’s Taeyeon’s small, shaved pussy to marvel at. “Mommy,” your girlfriend says, “mommy, you’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you, baby,” says Taeyeon, bearing a confident smile. “Watch and learn, okay? And you,” she looks over at you, and leans down so only you can hear as she whispers: “Try not to cum so fast.”

You’d defend yourself if she didn’t slam her beautiful ass so quickly on your lap. That’s when your cock slips inside her, causing the both of you to moan and, additionally, for you to figure out exactly why she told you that. Your teacher is so fucking tight. Your cock immediately is covered by her juices, from base to tip.

“Oh, fuck!” Taeyeon cries out. Both her eyes and mouth become round at the pleasure she takes in. She looks at Eunbi in disbelief. “You really take this dick everyday?”

Eunbi doesn’t know how to respond. All that comes out of her mouth are moans. You suppose she’s a bit lost about what to feel right now as well. Perhaps she’s rejecting what she feels, which is turned on. But that can’t be it: her fingers are already under her skirt, trying to replicate the pleasure Taeyeon must feel about your dick.

“D-does it feel good, mommy?” she can’t help but ask. A small part of her young heart is mortified at the scene of her boyfriend fucking another woman, but another part is curious. She’s never seen her teacher in this state, and probably never will again. Eunbi’s mind is voracious on any hints of pleasure Taeyeon feels.

“Y-yes, oh my god,” says Taeyeon. She tries to maintain a neutral expression, but fails. “See what I’m doing? Circle, fuck, your hips a bit, just like this, s-so it feels good for you, too.”

Taeyeon lifts her hips a little, letting the rest of your length breathe for a little while. “Then take a few of it inside to get ready. You just have to get used to the size. After you’re used to it, you can start riding him.”

You’re left breathless in the wooden school chair as your sex ed teacher does exactly that. After riding only the first couple inches of your dick, she starts violently slamming herself up and down. You have to hold on to her muscular thighs to subconsciously direct her to slow down. And she does, but still not at a pace you can take. Her breasts keep bouncing in front of your face, as if they were asking you to devour them or choose death. And, with Taeyeon’s slick, tight cunt around you, you really don’t want to die yet.

Capture her breast in your mouth. Her sharp fingernails press down on your scalp. Her pitched moans beat on your eardrums. You can barely even hear Eunbi’s soft cries of pleasure anymore, nor can you place the sound of skin slapping and touching. Even the outside sounds of students cheering and referees narrating sound inaudible when Taeyeon’s obscene moans fill too much of the atmosphere.

“Good boy, bounce me on that big fucking cock,” growls Taeyeon. Her pussy grows impossibly tight, and you’re forced to perform your own upward thrusts to continue penetrating your painfully hot teacher. “Give our girl a show, you know you want to.”

You’re not a submissive guy, but you can live with Taeyeon praising you and calling you a good boy. You can live with her sweet, delectable vagina fucking itself on your cock. Fine, you admit you can live with Taeyeon basically confirming her ownership over your girlfriend Eunbi. But more than anything, you want to please her, to please your mommy. So it’s inevitable that you fuck her faster and rougher, summoning all the might you have in your body to make her scream.

Eunbi’s definitely been given a show, one that’s good enough for her to get off to. “Fuck, oppa,” whines Eunbi, ecstatic. The gleam in her eyes exhibits slight jealousy and more bliss. “It looks like it feels so good. I…” Her eyes shut, and her lips purse. “I’m so close.” Her fingers pump faster. Her hole struggles to catch up with the almost brutal pace of her digits.

“I’m close, too, fuck!” Taeyeon says. It’s almost like she’s angry when she throws her hips up and down, back and forth. She has more strength than your phys-ed teacher, that’s for sure. It’s like the gyrating of her body holds no self-control, and her mind is just on you and your cock, and nothing else. “Yes, yes, make me cum! Make mommy a slut for your cock!”

And you’d say you succeeded—Taeyeon’s voice reaches volumes a human being should be incapable of making. Her legs curl around your waist and behind the school chair to keep you as deep as possible as she cums on you. By then, you’ve sucked her breasts to redness and soreness. By then, Eunbi had reached her climax. You’ve managed to stave off your own. Some other time, you’d look back and wonder how you did it.

“Good boy,” Taeyeon gasps. She lifts your face up and kisses you on the mouth. “Such a good boy.”

“I want a turn, too, mommy,” says Eunbi. She’s pouting; there’s a whine tied around her tone. “Please? Please?”

Your professor removes herself from your lap. Her body has lost some of its former strength, but her actions still possess womanly confidence. She takes a slow walk over to Eunbi, kneels to her level, and lifts her chin upwards.

“Only if you promise to show what mommy taught you and clean off your oppa’s cock.”

“I will.” Eunbi nods furiously and repeatedly. She’s more than happy to do that just to have a turn of your cock. “I will, please, please let me!”

She crawls over between your legs. She forgoes the jerking part of Taeyeon’s hands-on lesson and goes for your cock with her lips immediately. Eunbi’s pink tongue glides on the coat of slick Taeyeon left on your length, delicately cleaning it up. The juices are replaced with her saliva. Carefully, inch by inch, she bobs her head on your dick, collecting the delicious taste of her teacher and the musky scent of your cock.

Her throat still isn’t used to your size. So, when she tries to take you in like she did earlier, she gags. You’re careful not to thrust in her mouth too much. You don’t want to hurt her, or block her from creating those adorable sounds of determination and arousal.

“Good girl,” coos Taeyeon, softly encouraging the girl to go on. “Just breathe through your nose, sweetheart. Take deep breaths. That’s my girl.”

When Eunbi comes back up for air, she’s breathless. Her shoulders ascend and fall with difficult pants. “Did I do good?” she asks expectantly.

“You did better than earlier,” Taeyeon says. “Did he taste good?”

“Yes, he did. But you were delicious, too, mommy.”

“You’ve always been a sweet girl, Eunbi,” Taeyeon remarks. She plants a kiss on Eunbi’s neck. “Just for that, you can have your oppa’s dick and taste mommy at the same time.”

Eunbi draws in a little excited breath. She practically drags you to the teacher’s desk that Taeyeon directs the two of you at, and lies down almost immediately when asked. Taeyeon pulls down your girlfriend’s schoolgirl skirt and volleyball shorts, which boasts a prominent cameltoe. But you and Taeyeon are able to see the real thing after just a few tugs of her clothes downwards.

There’s a genuine smile on Taeyeon’s face. “What a pretty little pussy.” She turns to you. “Tell me, is she tight?”

“See for yourself, professor,” you say without realizing it.

Even Eunbi is surprised. She lifts her back off the table. “Oppa— ah!”

Taeyeon’s finger finds shelter in Eunbi’s grippy pussy. Eunbi struggles and moans. You can see her little hole clasp onto the singular finger that intrudes its space, and how her enclosed walls part.

“Oh, ,” says Taeyeon with an evil grin on her goddess-like face. “She is.”

She moves her finger in and out, watching Eunbi’s blissful reactions to it.

“How can she take your cock if she’s this tight?”

“I’ll—ah!” Eunbi winces. Her legs close together, but that doesn’t stop the greedy Taeyeon. “I’ll do my best, mommy, I promise! I just want oppa’s cock!”

“Very well. Open your mouth and legs, Miss Kwon. Take those glasses off, too, and get ready. We’re not going to be gentle with you.”

Eunbi does as told. The honor student in her is still there behind the sex toy she’s become for you and Taeyeon. Her immediate obedience says it all. While Taeyeon throws one leg over the side of the table and her face, you part her legs. Eunbi’s legs never failed to amaze you. Her thighs, though muscular from running around the covered court all day, are full and jiggly enough to hold and use. Maybe one day you’ll give in and fuck her thighs. Cream them with semen milkier than her skin itself.

But her pussy will do just fine today, you think, if not better.

You and Taeyeon go to town in your respective parts at the same time. You fill Eunbi up with one, hard thrust, causing her to moan into Taeyeon’s pussy. Taeyeon sighs happily, too; Eunbi’s warm, wet tongue feels insanely good inside her pussy. Although inexpert and untried, just the steady thrusts of her tongue inside her can do.

“G-good girl, Eunbi,” she sighs. “Good girl.”

Eunbi’s whine of happiness turns into a groan after you form a steady rhythm. The teacher’s desk creaks back and forth along with your hips. You and Taeyeon squeeze and play with Eunbi’s huge tits, sometimes slapping them to draw a muffled, helpless reaction from her. But one look into each other’s eyes confirms this: you need to have each other, too.

Blinded by pleasure to be afraid, you lean forward and kiss Taeyeon. She’s hardly surprised, as if she expected that to happen. She earnestly kisses back. She’s sighing against your mouth. She tastes sweet; you understand now why Eunbi kissed her back like a greedy animal earlier. Your tongue navigates every sweet spot in her mouth, curling ‘round Taeyeon’s own tongue, as she fucks Eunbi’s mouth and you fuck her cunt.

Taeyeon bites your lower lip, licks it, then smirks. “Good boy,” she whispers sultrily. She kisses you again, ignoring the look of utter passiveness in your face caused by her tone and words. Gripping onto Eunbi’s bouncing boob in one hand and the other grasping the back of your head, she pulls you in for a deeper kiss. It’s something you’re glad to reciprocate; you don’t want to hear how pathetic you sound moaning because of Eunbi’s little pussy.

Eunbi has never eaten pussy before, but she knows what feels good. She tests it out by keeping a firm, hard pressure on Taeyeon’s clit. It elicits a positive response: a slightly louder moan from the other woman, and the rougher gyrate of her hips. She can’t see anything besides Taeyeon’s back and round ass. Her legs are numb from the consistent pounding, and she truly can’t feel anything besides breathlessness and pleasure. Her mind goes back to what Taeyeon taught, and finds that what makes her hornier is that Taeyeon is forgoing all that she taught—going against her own teachings, being a hypocrite—and fucking her mouth like she’s just a toy. It makes her so incredibly turned on.

“Fuck! Keep fucking me like that, Eunbi! Fuck yes, fill her up, fill our good girl up like that!”

Your thrusts get rougher, and Taeyeon feels Eunbi’s mouth give their all in eating her. The short, blunt flicks to her clitoris become full-on sucklings alternated with tongue-fucking. Unable to handle it, she lets out a guttural cry, slapping one of Eunbi’s breasts roughly, then wrapping her hands around her pretty neck.

“Come on, toy.” She slams her ass down on Eunbi’s face angrily. Her hands squeeze tighter around the girl’s throat. “Do what you’re good at. Eat my fucking cunt, make me cum.”

Eunbi begins to cry. Her squeal vibrates on Taeyeon’s pussy as her tongue plays with and fucks Taeyeon’s pussy. It’s so messed up, but Eunbi being used impulsively makes you fuck her harder. Her pussy traps your coming-and-leaving shaft as a steady spray of clear squirt goes your way. Eunbi’s screaming, trying to vent her pleasure by eating Taeyeon out more, which causes another orgasm from the teacher. The two pairs of bouncing mounds tempt you, and you have to pull out to blow a heavy load on Eunbi’s breasts.

All three of you are moaning and sighing together, creating an unholy choir of sin that the school choir would find repugnant. Eunbi shivers as Taeyeon lifts herself off her used mouth. Your legs feel like sticks against a heavy wind. You have to grab on the desk for support.

“Did she just squirt?”

Look down at your wet polo shirt and shrug, finding humor at the obvious question and its obvious answer. “I guess so,” you reply.

Taeyeon’s eyes glint with menace. “Make her do it again,” she says.

“What?” you ask, just to make sure you’re hearing her correctly. Now all the humor is gone. She can’t be serious. You don’t know how you’ll make it work. You’re barely coming down from your high, and Eunbi is at the brink of passing out. You can’t give her another orgasm; the two of you are way too spent.

Taeyeon, however, can go for days.

“I said,” Taeyeon grabs Eunbi by the hair and pulls her up, “make her squirt again.”

Eunbi’s tired frame relies on Taeyeon’s to maintain her position of sitting, but she doesn’t need a hand in her hair again to shake her head. She whines in protest when Taeyeon’s fingers play with her pussy again.

“Mommy, no! I’m too sensitive! You can’t!”

“Fuck her pretty cunt, toy,” Taeyeon whispers in your ear. Her finger, which slides back and forth on Eunbi’s clit, grows stronger and faster. “Teach her to take a good cock. Don’t mind her whimpering. She wants it.”

You’re automatically inclined to follow your teacher’s instructions. So, when you slide into Eunbi’s snug pussy again, she screams in pleasure. She grabs for anything—your hand, a chair—but Taeyeon pins her hands behind her back. They’re messily making out again. Eunbi lets out her moans in the form of greedy, wanton liplocks. Meanwhile, you cry out feral groans watching the two beautiful women kissing.

Eunbi’s wrists have fought themselves out from Taeyeon’s hand and have led themselves towards the valleys of her teacher’s tits. You're pretty sure she’s done so to finger her, which is proven when Taeyeon gasps and pins her down even more roughly to the table. They touch each other just the way they like it: roughly and unforgivingly.

Whenever Taeyeon twists Eunbi's nipples, your girlfriend’s cunt clamps protectively around your cock. It’s delicious—it’s difficult to drag it out when all the pleasure from your hands and Taeyeon’s makes her so tight and wet. Taeyeon’s harsh flicks send wet sloppy fluid leaking on the desk. Eunbi’s inexperienced yet somehow skilled fingers drive Taeyeon to hiss and bite down on Eunbi's full lower lip.

“Oppa, mommy’s too good,” Eunbi mumbles weakly. Her legs shake. “And mommy, oppa’s cock is so big. It fills me so well.”

“I know, baby. You’re taking him like a good girl.”

Giving Eunbi one last kiss, Taeyeon scoots over to you. She’s unimpressed; her arms cross, one over the other, below her killer breasts. “How are you going to make her squirt if you can’t fuck her fast?” she asks.

“I’m sorry, professor.”

“And from the boyfriend of a top student, too. You’d think she at least taught you something. Pull out. Now. Somebody needs to teach your girl a lesson.”

You’re actually glad to be able to stop. Eunbi moans at your hard cock leaving her hole, but she screams again—this time because of Taeyeon spanking her cunt.

“Mommy! Mommy, no—mommy!”

“Dumb little girl,” snarls Taeyeon. Her hand makes several rough landings on Eunbi's cunt over and over with little time to recover. You're horrified. “Aren’t you a valedictorian, Kwon Eunbi? You should know better and teach this no-good delinquent to fuck you properly. Do you even remember your classes?”

“Mommy!” Eunbi sobs. Her hips flinch and retract from Taeyeon's hand. “Hurts!”

The girl yelps and whines, but you can see her biting her lip as she watches the teacher punish her. It took your teacher risking her job and literally slapping your girlfriend's vagina for you to realize this: your girlfriend is a freak.

“You like how it makes you cry, don’t you?” asks Taeyeon. She slaps the wet folds until the skin around it is red. “Fucking pain slut.”

“Hurts, hurts, hurts! G-gonna cum again, mommy, please stop, you’re going to make me cum, haaah!”

Eunbi squirms and wails, jutting her legs out while she cums again. In the end, Taeyeon gets what she wanted: a spray of fluids from Eunbi’s pussy. She rubs her nub to prompt more of her squirting. The younger girl’s lower body jerks and moves away, but Taeyeon’s hand always finds her clit again.

“It took spanking to get you to squirt?” the teacher asks, slightly amused.

Eunbi can do nothing but sob and nod. What else is she supposed to do? She looks more tired now than she was post-game. Her naked, beautiful body’s wet and used beyond limit. “Mommy… I’m tired,” she says. “Please.”

“Take your time, angel.” Taeyeon slides Eunbi’s glasses back on her face. Behind the lens, her eyelids barely make it past her brown irises. “You were such a good girl for mommy today.”

Eunbi nods appreciatively. She nuzzles into Taeyeon’s hand. Her whole body feels like it’s going to break anytime soon.

Taeyeon turns to you with a dangerous look in her eyes. That’s how you know she’s not done, at least with you. She still hasn’t had her load, and she’s not leaving without it.

“Now let’s see,” she says, slowly, walking over to you with her shapely hips swaying, “if your little boyfriend can be a good boy.”

You gulp. You’re in for a long ride.

“You sure you can handle me, professor?” you ask. You’re being a hotshot again, you know that, but it’s the only way you know how to deal with nervousness.

You’re gliding her hand across her thighs, taking pleasure in this stalling that benefits you in more ways than one. In doing this, you get to touch Taeyeon’s slim, sensitive thighs, and toy with her prepared pussy.

Taeyeon’s shivering breath is the only indication of her pleasure. Her face remains stoic, almost offending, as she sits on the desk. Her clothes are anywhere but on her body. It’s not like you mind.

“I’d ask you that same question,” she says. She knows how to keep her guard up enough to make you red with humiliation. “But it seems like I know the answer already.”

Pinch her pink nipples. You’re copying Taeyeon’s way of letting her feelings manifest in her little actions and ways, hence the harsh squeeze of your fingers on the nubs. Eunbi watches on with anticipation, searching for the right scene to repeat in her mind to reach her climax. She’s whimpering quietly.

Taeyeon’s slandering you, you know it. It just so happens she does so incredibly sexily. Finding her deserving of a good fucking, line up your cock with her entrance and rub yourself on her lips. Your tip rubs her clit repeatedly.

“Which is?” you ask innocently.

Taeyeon’s breaths are short. “You’re too scared to fuck me,” she says, with no less confidence. In a way, she’s correct, but not for long. “Mmm, you’re scared of what would happen if you get to it and breed me. Your life would be over, you know that, and you’d ruin your girlfriend’s potential to excel.”

Sarcastically: “Am I?”

“Ohh, oh, yes, you are.” It’s a nice save from her. “And that’s not all there is to it, isn’t it? You’re scared of me. What’s promising I won’t tell anyone of what we did? That’s right: nothing, and that’s what scares you. It scares your delinquent ass more than you’d like.”

The table creaks backwards. Taeyeon moans.

You steadily thrust in her, reminding yourself not to be gentle as you would to Eunbi in lighter situations. No, your slut of a teacher deserves to be pounded. If she had to resort to her students to get a good fuck, she might as well get it.

“Am I still scared, professor?” you ask.

Taeyeon’s pussy is as good as the first time you entered her. But now it’s obvious she’s so much more turned on; her pussy grips your cock in any way but gently. Her tits start to bounce again.

“M-maybe,” she weakly gasps out. “With how small your dick is, I’d see why you are.”

Although her lie is clear, it sends a blow to your ego. You force her folds to welcome and swallow more frequent thrusts. Taeyeon is whining; or is that Eunbi you’re hearing?

Take a look at Eunbi and see that her legs, just like her teacher’s, are wide open. She’s rubbing herself while squeezing one boob in her hand. Her moans mix in with Taeyeon’s as she watches the two of you go at it. Needless to day, she’s enjoying the view.

Minutes later, you’ve got Taeyeon sprawled out even more on the table (if that were possible), with a tired Eunbi still kneeling at her side, as you fuck your teacher’s cunt to the point of oblivion. Your cock still drips with semen and precum from the previous sessions, but your desire to keep fucking Taeyeon’s tight, perfect pussy keeps you going. It’s the defiance, the sheer fucking will to go on that prevents you from passing out.

“I think it’s your thing, professor," you whisper in her ear, shedding the honorifics for just this time. “Fucking a pretty little high school student because you know she's curious, and being railed to shit by some delinquent. This cock—”

—Taeyeon gasps when you sharply thrust inside her—

“—and this pretty face—”

—Grasp Eunbi’s face in between careless, rough fingers; she whines pitifully—

“That’s what gets you off, right?” you ask. “Because you know it’s messed up: how good it feels being ruined by some boy who should be a nightmare but is instead the guy who can give you a good dicking-down. It just isn’t right, is it, Kim Taeyeon?”

“Oh, oh my god,” Taeyeon rasps. Her eyes are wide. You've just stripped her feelings out for her, one by one, while you rail away at her mercilessly. Her face is red; she's humiliated, nonetheless, but she's turned on. So fucking turned on.

“So cum for me, mommy.” Speed up your thrusts, grab her bouncing tits before dragging your hand up to her throat. There, you squeeze. “Cum like you want me.”

And cum she does. Taeyeon lets out a feral scream, squirming and struggling on the table. Eunbi, who was touching herself to you and Taeyeon fucking, crawls over and seals her lips around Taeyeon's clit, catching the squirt she expels. Taeyeon propels herself forward, causing your cock to bury itself deeper inside her and Eunbi's mouth to take more and more of her pussy.

“Yes, yes, yes, good boy! Fuck me, fuck me like I’m a whore!” Taeyeon cries. Her beautiful face is stretched and scrunched into an expression of pleasure. Her hips never stop going crazy at the doubled pleasure. “Keep sucking my clit like that, Eunbi-ya; yes, that’s a good girl, yes yes yes please—!”

Eunbi squeezes Taeyeon’s breasts and thighs while you release inside her. It goes against what she taught in multiple classes: safe sex, use of condoms, all that, but you want to continue feeling the beautiful wet walls close in on your cock, like it doesn’t want you to leave her hole.

And if you could, you won’t. But the human body has limits, and it can’t take non-stop sex unless your stamina’s like one of the school athletes. So, you can do nothing but welcome the darkness that covers your line of vision.

In the absence of light, darkness prevails.

The classroom is a mess. White fluid that’s definitely not Elmer’s glue coats the wooden teacher’s desk. You think you’ve broken one of the table’s legs. The floor needs to be mopped with how much of Eunbi’s squirt has sprayed on its tiles.

But you don’t worry about that. Not now, when Taeyeon lovingly takes care of your tired post-sex bodies. She’s dressed now, and although her messy hair and pants indicate a recent frisky session, you don’t suppose anyone would think that.

Through it all, you’re still students Taeyeon cares for.

“My good girl, and my good boy,” she says softly. She might be harsh, but her love is real. She buttons Eunbi’s uniform, kisses her, then kisses your forehead. She’s still trying to find her lost breath, but she’s smiling. She’s smiling despite the messed up morality of the situation as a whole, despite your body looking ragged after multiple climaxes and Eunbi’s body and breasts being marked with her own slaps. If she were asked, she’d do it all again.

“You’ll still be around to please mommy later, won’t you?”

Just like that, she’s put a mark on the two of you. You’re hers and no one else’s from this day forward, and you can’t decide what to feel about it. You had no idea how to react during this whole sex frenzy, but you think that vulnerable, helpless feeling is exactly what makes you smile. The feeling of having someone dominate you, claim you, own you, especially from someone who shouldn’t be.

God, you’re a mess. You’re fucked up. Taeyeon is fucked up. And, in her own little way, Eunbi herself is fucked up, too, but that’s exactly why you have each other.

Someday you’ll look back at all this. You’ll go over everything—meeting Eunbi, being her boyfriend, the whole fiasco with Taeyeon, all of it—and perhaps you'll laugh a little too. All of it is absurd, and is that of a plot straight out of a pornography video. To think it might happen to you, a guy who’s barely above average, would be the main cause of your reminiscent laughter.

They say high school days are wild. You find that to be true; you just bred your sex ed professor, called her mommy and made out with her while she rode your girlfriend’s face. To add to that, your first intimate encounter with Eunbi was raunchy, wild sex. And you sit in the classroom, with her leaning against your shoulder, attending another class as if nothing happened. Halfway through a biology quiz, Taeyeon enters. You don’t know if your eyes were just teasing you, but she winks at you as she leaves. It’s a wink that says don’t get too carried away, toy; we’re not done yet.

#kpop smut #girls generation smut #snsd smut #kim taeyeon smut #taeyeon smut #izone smut #kwon eunbi smut #eunbi smut #x reader #male reader #reader insert #pov smut #request

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angryschnauzer · 2 years

Text

By The Waning Crescent Moon

Summary: As an Omega you know you need to get home before your Heat starts, but when your car breaks down in the woods you need to seek refuge somewhere safe... surely a Convent will be the best place? Little do you know the nuns have long since left, only to be replaced by the worst possible thing; a pack of Werewolves. Even worse, its a full moon. Fandom: Henry Cavill, Sand Castle - Movie.

Wordcount: 4949

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Syverson x Omega Female reader (no race or body type specified)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Unprotected Sex, Desecration of Religious artefacts, Knotting, Werewolf Sex, Monsterfucking, Unplanned Pregnancy, ABO Dynamics

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll then get an alert each time i post something new. My AO3 also has my entire back catalogue of stories (going back to 2013).

Henry Cavill Masterlist

A/N: This story has been stuck in WIP hell for a couple of months, i originally got psyched to write an entire werewolf gangbang, but then all the bullshit in the USA happened and yeah, forced pregnancy wasn’t at the forefront of everyone’s to do list, even in fanfic. Furthermore the wolf gang was originally going to be a biker gang, but another amazing writer @sillyrabbit81 has since launched a truly amazing biker gang reverse harem fic, i decided to shelve that idea and instead sit on the original thought of werewolves for a while. I then had inspiration to make this a Syverson story, so here we go. The Were sex scene is heavily inspired by the graveyard scene between Lucy and Dracula in Bram Stokers Dracula movie, which in my opinion is one of the greatest creature feature/monsterfucking movies in the history of cinema.

By the Waning Crescent Moon

You waited at the stop light, the remote intersection of two highways high up in the hills of logging country. It was dusk, yet the sky was hidden behind obsidian clouds, heavy rain systems waiting to release their downpours in sporadic outbursts. Despite the cold rain dulling the summer evening, you were burning up. You’d stopped at the last gas station and had stocked up on a huge slush drink and a popsicle, but neither had done anything to quell the growing warmth within your body. Sat in your flimsy sundress you were at least grateful that in a moment of optimism that morning you’d dressed for good weather, even if you’d spent the day wrapped in the cardigan you’d found on the back seat. However now as you felt a droplet of sweat make its way down your neck and cleavage, you cursed and opened the window, grateful for the cool damp air against your skin.

The red light finally changed and you muttered under your breath to yourself as you pushed your old Nissan into gear;

“C’mon, lets get home” you said to no-one except yourself.

The highway grew narrow as it entered the woods, just a single lane in each direction, tall cedar trees closing in on both sides. The rain wasn’t as heavy beneath the thick canopy above you, instead there were wisps of mist clinging to the roadway’s edge.

As you continued along you felt the first pang of pain in your stomach, a cramp that grew with intensity like an old lightbulb trying to illuminate but suddenly extinguishing.

“Oh fuck…” you cursed, resting your hand on your stomach as you rubbed to ease the ache. You drove on cautiously, ignoring the rattle that was emanating from the engine, your mind elsewhere. You had only finished your last period a little over a week ago so it wasn’t that. You could feel another cramp starting to build, your concentration far from the road. That was more than likely the reason you didn’t notice the pothole, the car shook and the suspension made a deafening thunk as you hit the flooded crater without pause. With a scream you pulled your full attention back to the road, ignoring the cramp pulling at your gut as you struggled to keep the car on the road, slowing gradually until you were able to pause. The sudden understanding hit your mind as the realisation of what was happening registered. You scrambled for your phone, opening the calendar and scrolling back to the cold winter months.

A cold chill ran down your back like icy fingers against your spine. Six months. Almost to the day. Six months since your last heat.

“Shit fuck FUCK” you shouted at the rain splattered windows. How could you have missed it? As another cramp hit your stomach you curled over and rested your head against the steering wheel, at which moment your phone chimed. Peering out of one eye you looked at the screen and the reminder that had just popped up;

*Heat starting soon!!!*

“Yes, THANK YOU. 24 hours too late”

As an unmated Omega you set yourself reminders for when your heat was due, coming every six months you generally made arrangements to work from home, and ensure you loaded your purse with suppressants and painkillers so to deal with the build up. It would seem this time however you hadn’t set the reminder early enough, as you had neither medication with you, but would also explain the hot sweats and the reason you’d woken up that morning tangled in the sheets after dreaming of faceless intimacy.

With a sigh you wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, before peering out of the windshield at the dark and twisting road. Engaging first gear you set off but were immediately reminded that something terminal had happened when you’d hit the hole in the asphalt, your car now leaning on the kerbside. For a moment you considered calling for a tow truck, but then the rapidly failing rational side of your brain reminded you that the truck would likely be driven by a man, and the last thing you needed when you were about to come into heat was to risk being stuck with an Alpha you didn’t know. No, you needed to try and limp your car home, at least close enough to town that you could call your roommate to come help, she’d know exactly what to do. You made it a good couple of miles at a slow pace, the road straight and gently downhill, until a hairpin bend meant you had to sharply turn the wheel. Something loudly went ‘twang’ like a spring being violently recoiled. It was quickly followed by the sound of hissing air, and the car dropped even further on the kerbside. The tell-tale thud-thud-thud of a flat tyre could be heard as you freewheeled to the side of the road, before coming to a stop on the gravel side of the highway.

You took a deep breath and let out a scream, yelling at the windshield, before your stomach cramps hit back again. They were getting closer together and you knew you needed help. Checking your phone hopefully you were still disappointed when you saw that there was still no service, more than likely due to a combination of location and the bad weather. With a sigh you stared out of the windshield and you noticed a sign on a wall;

“The Sisters of St Augustus’ Refuge” you paused, the synapses in your brain firing and finally connecting; “A CONVENT! That’s just women!”

Climbing out of your car you grabbed your purse and cardigan, holding the latter over your head in a vain attempt to keep the worst of the rain off as you started to trot up the long driveway towards the building that loomed on the horizon. You failed to notice the other sign that lay on the ground, one put up by the real estate company handling the sale of the building but has since fallen.

The driveway was considerably longer than you anticipated, and by the time you were halfway your pace had slowed, your cramps now even worse. The large wooden doors of the convent came into view as you staggered closer, the rain and sweat mixing and running into your eyes, blurring your vision. You stumbled, your no longer white Converses catching on a pebble, righting yourself before you fell flat on your face. Another two steps and another pebble, you were falling when suddenly a pair of arms caught you, the dark robes fluttering in the storm as you blacked out.

Sy sat back in his chair, his boots resting on the large table as he picked at his nails with one long claw, being able to control the change to his advantage. Walter was pacing the room, pausing to glare at the clock on the wall before returning to pacing. Sy let out a small sigh, the entire pack was antsy, anxious and ready for the turn of the full moon, however this summer storm obscuring its silver rays was turning the pack into an angry mess. August had wisely disappeared into the depths of the building and Sy was thankful for that, he and Walter would always argue over the smallest thing. Sy also glanced at the clock, his stomach growling;

“Where is Mikey with that takeout?” he muttered to himself.

A sudden increase in background noise caused both Sy and Walter to pause and look up, their nostrils flaring. August entered the room from the door that led to the private quarters, just as the large double doors to the chapel opened. The two youngest members of the pack came bustling in, Will holding the doors open as Mikey staggered along, his long black duster raincoat still dripping with rain, a now soaked bag of takeout hanging from one hand, but what caught everyone’s attention was what else he was carrying; a young woman.

The room fell into an eerie silence as Mikey stood still, waiting to gauge the reaction from the rest of the pack;

“I…I found… she passed out on the doorstep…”

There was a pause before everyone sprang into life, the men helping Mikey carry the unconscious woman in, Walter lifting her and setting her down onto the makeshift workbench they’d commandeered when they’d moved into the old building.

Sy’s eyes widened before he cursed;

“Fuck…” he dragged his hand over his face before clearing his throat; “Aug, Walt, gotta talk. Will and Mike, make sure she’s ok”

August simply raised his left eyebrow before following, Walter trudging closely behind as Sy pushed the door partially closed behind them;

“Shit, this is the last thing we need, especially tonight…”

Walter nodded;

“I agree, whatever she’s doing here, we need to get her out of here before the storm passes”

August stood in the corner of the room, his silence eventually what drew the others attention;

“August, you’ve been uncharacteristically quiet on this” Sy questioned

“Maybe she’s not an Omega?” he simply shrugged; “Could just be lost or her car broken down”

“Then why is she unconscious and reek of heat scent?…” he paused… “And why…”

Sy fell silent, all three elder members of the pack’s attention rising to the tall stained glass windows, the pale light from the full moon spilling into the dark room as the clouds started to part. A simultaneous chorus of ‘fuck’ sounded around the room, before they started to change, the moonlight triggering the lupine curse within them.

They grew broader, their shoulders filling out their shirts. Jaws clenched as canine teeth elongated. The flick of fire in their eyes started to burn as the silvery rays of moonlight spread throughout the room. At first they didn’t notice the wisp of orangey vapour that curled through the small gap in the door, but as it moved around the room like a lost serpent August was the first to notice;

“What the hell is that?”

Sy and Walter followed his gaze before noticing more tendrils of the vapour, watching as it sparkled gold and copper in the moonlight. Sy gritted his teeth and pushed back the urge to fully transform, the skill he’d accomplished once he became the full Alpha leader of the pack;

“Stay here” he all but growled, stalking towards the mist and out into the hall, the sight before him stopping him in his tracks.

The young woman was awake, but was clinging to Will as she nuzzled against his neck. One of her hands curled through Mikey’s hair, pulling him to the other side of her neck. Wisps of orange vapour curled around them, seemingly emanating from her.

“BOYS!” Sy barked, both younger men trying to turn to the pack elder, but looked punch drunk.

“Uncle Sy…” Mikey muttered; “She’s… there’s something…”

Sy crossed the room lightning fast, pulling both younger men from her grasp before pushing them into a ray of moonlight as it spilt in through a side window, knowing that although the moon would turn them, it would also clear whatever was happening due to the vapour from their minds. August and Walter helped the two boys up, both elders now having almost completed their transformations, the younger turning as they stood. Sy gritted his teeth again and pushed back the urge to transform, knowing four, five full Were’s would destroy this young woman, and that someone needed to find out what the hell was happening;

“August, Walter, take Will and Mikey, go run, go hunt, anything, get all of you out of here”

The other’s paused, seemingly torn between the draw of the full moon and the pull of the young woman, but as Sy turned and growled, his eyes flashing golden they finally retreated.

Sy listened, his acute hearing picking up four sets of padded feet running across the gravel driveway and into the woods, before he turned to her;

“What the hell am i going to do with you?”

You sat on the hard surface, the blanket beneath you doing little to pad out the cold stone underneath as you watched the hulk of a man approach. You could immediately tell he was an Alpha, strong and virile, he was extremely broad with thick arms and thighs, he seemed to be 250lbs of solid muscle. Beneath the scowl on his face you could see stormy blue eyes that sometimes had a flash of gold in them, and hints of red in his thick beard. Your entire body was sweating, desperate for the touch of an Alpha. The two young Alpha’s you hadn’t been able to control yourself from scenting with had done a little to sate the heat hunger burning within you, but as this beast approached you your body burned for him.

Reaching for him your body immediately calmed the moment your hands grasped at his muscled forearms, breathing in his scent as he looked you over. When he spoke his voice was deep but soft;

“Miss, i gotta ask, but what are you?”

“Just an Omega… and i fucked up, my heat started…”

“Then why’d you come in here?”

“It said it was a convent… Nuns are women… i woulda been safe here…”

The man let out a long sigh;

“Oh honey… this wasn’t a convent of Nuns… it was a refuge for Moon Makers” he looked you up and down; “They shouldn’t have put ya on the altar…”

You were confused, you had heard the term Moon Maker before but it was so long ago you couldn’t recall exactly where. It was as if it had been a whisper you’d eavesdropped as a child, of something mothers and aunts had gossiped about with a sense of sordid envy.

Before you could dwell on that thought the storm outside blew wild, the crack of a tree could be heard and as it fell to the ground it let in a stream of moonlight right to where you lay. Bathed in the silver light the tendrils of orange mist started to swirl with vigour, and the Alpha before you let out a groan;

“Sugar, i gotta see the mark…”

He pushed you back as he stood between your legs, his large hands on your thighs as they crept beneath your short summer dress, pushing it up until your panties were visible and the fabric of your dress was bunched around your waist. His nostrils flared as he picked up your scent, the dark patch of wetness between your legs drawing him like a moth to the flame, but instead he hooked his thumb over the waistband of your underwear and tugged them down just a little until he saw your birthmark on your hip.

“The waning crescent…” he muttered

“What’s… huh? Moon Makers… Waning Crescent… I don’t understand” you were struggling to concentrate through the heat cramps, pulling the Alpha closer to you as you’d wrapped your legs around his thighs.

“Moon Makers are a special kind of Omega… the only one’s strong enough to bear the pups of a Were… the waning crescent is the shape of the birthmark they carry… shaped that way as if you breed on a full moon you’ll know if you’re carrying the pups by the time of the next waning crescent… It’s old lore, there hasn’t been a sighting of a Moon Maker for, well, almost twenty five years…”

You pulled him close, not even knowing this beast’s name, but were drawn to him. You hooked your nose beneath his chin, his soft beard rubbing against your face and you could feel him shake with restraint;

“You’re testing big Sy to the limits Sugar…”

“Sy…” you muttered, his name like a syrup on your tongue; “Sy… i’m still an Omega, and i need your help. This heat isn’t going away… i need you, as an Alpha”

Nodding, Sy cradled the back of your head. He knew what he needed to do. He just needed to get you through your heat, long enough to get you back to your home. He also had a secret, one that he’d brushed over many times when his brothers had joked about it, but an injury when he’d been in the army had meant he could no longer sire any pups with an Omega. It was something he and only he knew about, not even confessing this to Walter or August, and it had been safe in that knowledge that he’d been able to concentrate on leading the pack, without the distraction of offspring. Countless Omega’s had warmed his bed, but he’d insisted it was never the right time, not on a full moon, not the right point in their heat. Right now though, he needed to fight off his hind-brain, the part of him that wanted the Were to take over. He didn’t even consider things would be different with a Moon Maker.

He pressed his face to your neck, inhaling deeply against your scent gland, the soft dip in your clavicle, and let your scent wash over him. You were grinding against him, the slick in your panties dousing the front of his old combat pants, the thick cotton straining against his growing erection. His lips brushed against your neck as he spoke;

“Will you let me taste you? Get you ready with my tongue? Sugar… Omega, you want me to eat that pussy?”

“Sy… Alpha, please… I need it. I need you”

You were desperate; desperate for relief, desperate for pleasure. You watched as his massive hands curled around your panties as he gripped the thin cotton before with a low growl he tore the thin fabric to shreds. Licking his lips he fell to his knees between your legs, his face between your thighs as his tongue found heaven. That long thick tongue dove through your folds, lapping at your slick as he eagerly tasted your essence. Your hands fell to his head, the short buzz cut soft beneath your fingertips, but without anything to grip onto you felt lost, unable to anchor yourself. As if sensing your need Sy lifted one hand to yours, curling his fingers between your own as his piercing blue eyes never left yours, all whilst his tongue delved deep into your velvet channel. The more you cried out and wriggled the quicker he fucked you with his tongue, bringing you closer and closer to pleasure before with a final wide swipe of his tongue you came with a scream, calling out to the stars above as white hot pleasure coursed through your body and lifted your soul. Sy eagerly drank down your slick as it gushed from your channel, growling at the taste on his tongue before you finally fell back limp on the altar.

He pressed a kiss to each of your inner thighs before he moved to stand, and you watched as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it aside, before unbuckling his pants and let them drop to the floor. Toeing off his boots he was standing naked before you, his cock hard and rigid, thick and uncut, the knot at the base already starting to swell. You had been with an Alpha before but never one as big as Sy was, he was almost grotesquely huge, his girth as eye watering as the length. It was an angry red, his skin flushed and he was already dripping with need;

“Omega, I need you as much as you need me, you gonna let me fill that pussy?”

You nodded, and as Sy stepped forwards you saw there was hesitation in his step;

“Sy… what is it?”

“You ever been with a Were Alpha before?”

“A Were?” you shook your head; “But i want to. I need you Sy…”

“Not sure how much longer i can hold back the change, gonna have to be quick”

“I don’t want it to be quick, i want you… all of you”

What you were agreeing to was unheard of usually, very few had ever been with a full Were, let alone a Were Alpha, you knew the pheromones could drive an Omega crazy; “Do what you need to do Alpha”

With a growl Sy pushed you back, his body covering your own as his hands grasped your wrists;

“Hold still Sugar… need to tie you down so you don’t go flying off the altar”

“Altar?! Tie me down?!”

Sy paused, his face inches from your own;

“Say so now and i’ll stop, otherwise you’ll get as you asked and i will ‘do as i need’”

Swallowing nervously you nodded, wide eyed as you watched him pull ceremonial silk ropes from two corners of the altar beneath the blanket, tying your wrists in place. You could see his fight against the change was already starting to wane, his eyes burning like fire as his elongated fingers ran down your torso before grasping at your hips. He knelt between your parted thighs, pulling you up his thighs until his tip was poised at your entrance, dousing the bulbous head with your copious slick. With a growl he pushed forwards, stretching your tight walls as he slowly filled you. The pressure in your belly was intense, a white hot heat surging through your body as your mouth fell open in a silent scream. With your back arched you struggled to let your body adjust to his size, but then you felt the rough brush of the blunt tip of a claw circle your clit, carefully teasing the sensitive pearl from beneath its hood. As the moonlight poured down over your joined bodies you felt Sy start to change, of the Were taking over.

You moved your hips, realising you were now completely stuffed with his thick cock and eager for more, opening your eyes you let out a gasp, he had changed fully. Covered in a thick layer of auburn brown fur, his body was that of a Greek mythical beast. Though his features had changed, you could still see the same eyes that had burned for you just moments before. Shoulders as wide as the altar you were being defiled upon, which continued into enormous arms, thick with muscle as massive hands gripped at your hips as he started to thrust into you. You could both watch as he filled you before pulling out and repeating, his angry red shaft glistening in the moonlight with your slick before he’d plunge deep into you again and again. Each thrust stretched you so well you knew you’d be ruined for any other man, Alpha or not.

The pleasure coursed through your body, coming with a sudden force but the Were between your thighs just fucked you straight through it, now Moon drunk and high on the literal cloud of your scent surrounding the pair of you as you were carnally joined. With his biceps and forearms bulging the beast pulled you onto his thickening shaft repeatedly, his body arched as you were stretched on your tethers, legs bent at his thighs as you felt another orgasm chasing after the last. As your body squeezed him tight he let out a mighty roar, howling at the moon as you all but pushed yourself further onto him, your fragile body a plaything for his pleasure. Through the haze of lust and sin you felt the pad of his thumb move from your hip to brush over your birthmark, your gaze immediately drawn to his fiery eyes and you realised what would happen;

“Alpha, give me your knot, i’m ready”

With a growl the Were fucked into your plyable body harder and harder, pulling you to one final orgasm, and as that crested you felt the push and plug as he filled you, his seed pumping into you as his knot plugged you tight. Your scream echoed around the ancient chapel, and the world turned black.

A loud knocking at the door pulled Tina from her bed, glaring at the apartment as she strode through it, ready to give whoever dared disturb her at this ungodly hour of the morning a piece of her mind, but as she violently opened the door she was stopped in her tracks. In the morning light a hulk of a man stood on the doormat with you - her roommate - sleeping peacefully in his arms;

“Hey… I got her address from her driving licence”

Tina immediately scooped you into her arms, carrying you to the couch;

“Where has she been? Who are you?”

“Syverson… Her car broke down outside our place in the hills. She stayed out the storm with us but was up all night, she’s completely exhausted now”

Tina checked over your pulse and it was calm and steady, pulling at your eyelids which caused you to grumble and bat away her hands before you went back to snoring on the soft couch. Turning back to the giant Alpha currently standing in your doorway she held out her hand, to which Sy gently took it, surprised at how firm her handshake was;

“One of my brothers will bring her car back in the next couple of days if that’s alright? Got a lot on for the next two days”

“Yeah, that’s fine, but if i can take your number so i can check in, i know she drives a heap of crap but it’s still hers”

“Absolutely”

Tina watched as the enormous mountain of man carefully bent down and in neat cursive writing wrote his name and number onto the small notepad on the hallway console table, before ripping it off and handing it to her.

“I’ll… i’ll be going now”

Tina narrowed her gaze;

“You… you didn’t do anything to her, did you?”

Sy turned and met Tina’s glare;

“She spent the night” he turned and paused; “You might want to check her calendar, mentioned her heat is due soon” he let out a sigh before turning back to the doorstep; “Anyway, gotta go, the moon waits for no man…”

Tina watched him go, toying with the piece of paper as his truck pulled away, before she stashed it in her wallet.

A couple of weeks later you were irritable and snapping at anyone that crossed your path. The only thing that had gone right was your car had been returned to your apartment three days after your night in the hills, the suspension fixed, the engine running beautifully. It was like it’d had a complete overhaul by an entire team of mechanics. You weren’t going to question it as it was the one stable thing now in your life. The young guy that had dropped it off had practically thrown your keys into your hands, before sprinting off and climbing into a truck driven by someone that looked so similar he could have been a brother. You vaguely recognised them, but your only clear lingering memory of your time in the hills was Sy. You weren’t even sure how to even find him again, having taken drives through the forest a number of times but never able to find that same route again.

That night you were hungry, pulling a pint of your favourite ice cream from the deep freeze. You stepped outside into the warm summer night to eat it on the pallet wood seating Tina had built on the porch outside your apartment, watching the fireflies float into the air. After a while she joined you, a beer in her hand as she sat down silently. She was your best friend and had helped you through so much, but she’d been very quiet for the past couple of weeks, almost avoiding you.

“Hey Tiny” you used her nickname, one she’d very much grown out of after 5th grade when she’d grown a foot taller than you in the space of the summer break; “Everything ok?”

“Yeah yeah, i’m good… how are you doing? You’ve been… different recently”

You stabbed at the ice cream before setting it aside;

“Haven’t felt that great to be honest. Not sure what’s up, thought my heat was coming a few weeks ago but it seemed to end abruptly after i got back from…”

“Gotcha”

Tina looked up at the sky and you followed her gaze, seeing the thin crescent of the moon;

“Looks kinda like your birthmark, the waning moon…”

She didn’t finish what she was saying as you’d suddenly bolted to the bathroom, your retching clearly audible. With a sigh she rested her elbows on her knees… fuck, what the hell had you gotten yourself into? She’d been able to tell that Syverson was a Were the second she’d opened the door, counting the days back on her fingers she finally realised that you’d been with him the first night of the full moon, when its at its most powerful, and how your heat hadn’t appeared, yet she’d been able to pick up your bonding scent as you’d slept on the couch.

“What have you gotten yourself into?” she muttered to herself, the piece of paper in her wallet almost burning a hole in her pocket. She had sworn to your mother that she’d protect you, that she wouldn’t let you continue the Were bloodlines… but she’d failed. Now she had a decision to make… but first she’d go help you throw up, no doubt there would be another eight months of it to follow, the child within you already growing.

Pulling the paper out she held it between her fingertips as she stood, heading towards the bathroom where you were, you had a phone call make.

#syverson x you #captain sy x reader #werewolf sy #alpha sy #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #captain syverson smut #Alpha sy x omega reader

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augustvandyne · 5 months

Note

Angela Lopez x reader

Angela is going into labor and reader is racing against time after a stressful call and reader makes it just in time for Angela to start pushing

-🖇

yes guys please keep sending the asks for angela tim and lucy!!

maybe a part two where they are taking care of the baby? what do we think?

baby, baby

“Does God hate me or something?” You scoff, staring at the big TV in the conference room.

Of course a case you’d been following for weeks on end finally had a solid lead the second you were unavailable.

You were helping Angela into the car to take her to the hospital, as Grey had called you with the news.

He knew today was Angela’s due date, but he thought maybe he’d had a day or two, because not everyone’s baby came on time. But Angela’s baby was coming in a few hours, tops.

You’d dropped her at the hospital, made sure she was settled, and rushed to the station, hoping to be back as fast as possible.

That hope was crushed when you found out what the lead was.

The worst part was you were the leading detective on this case, so it had to be you to check out the lead.

The lead was an hour away, at one of the high security prisons. You were heading there as soon as you got word, along with Lucy for backup.

“Are you excited for the baby?” Lucy beams with excitement as you pull into the prison parking lot.

“I’m terrified,” You let out a shaky breath, your eyes never leaving the gravel. “What if I don’t make it back in time to see our baby be born?”

“That’s nonsense,” Lucy lays a reassuring hand on your arm. “I won’t let it happen.”

“It’ll be okay,” You tried to assure yourself, but it didn’t help at all.

Angela messages for the hundredth time, and you’re afraid to check. Scared to not only find messages involving curse words and Spanish and only god knows what else, but the haunting words, it’s time.

You skim through them quickly to make sure she doesn’t message saying she’s in labor or that your baby was born without you being there, and that she was leaving you.

If you had one nightmare, it would be Angela leaving you.

These past nine months have been a roller coaster. Not knowing when you would have your cute and cuddly Angela, or your ruthless, Detective Angela, but it would be totally worth it in the end.

If it’s made you realize one thing, it’s that you love her more than anything, and you’d never leave her—but you can’t say the same for her.

“Y/n,” Lucy says your name for the third time, you not even realizing, too worried about how Angela is doing and whether you’d even make it back in time. “We need to head in now if we’re going to make it back before Angela starts giving birth.”

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” You close your eyes and shake your head.

Turning the car off, you and Lucy hop out, basically sprinting into the prison.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

You’re so grateful to hear that this wasn’t a dead end lead, but you are so getting murdered today.

Whether by Angela, Grey, or by speeding.

Angela had texted you five minutes ago, telling you she was eight centimeters dilated.

In other words, she was close, and you were fucked.

Grey may kill you because you are illegally using the police car right now. Your lights and sirens are on, and you are going way over the speed limit, racing the hour back towards the hospital.

Now, it would take thirty minutes, more or less.

You were swerving in between lanes and traffic, trying your hardest to get there before she starts pushing, because you really didn’t need an upset Angela, and you’d already let her down by leaving in the first place.

Lucy helps along the way, pointing out open spaces along the way so you’d get there faster.

You don’t even pull into a parking space when you pull into the lot. You don’t take the elevator, you take the stairs.

It feels like you are racing against time, and it doesn’t feel good.

You hear Angela from down the hall.

She’s begging for you, but she already knows the answer, because it’s more than likely she’s been begging the nurses for you for the past hour.

But when you slide into the room, faster than the flash, her eyes are happier then ever.

“Y/n,” Angela throws her head back, grateful you made it just in time, because if you were even a second later, you would’ve missed everything.

“I’m here baby, I’m here,” You wrap your arm around her neck and kiss her forehead, not even caring about the sheen of sweat covering her forehead.

“It’s time to push,” The nurse nods.

“Okay,” You nod back, “It’s time, Ange, come on, you can do it. I’m here. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, I swear to you.”

You lean your forehead down to hers, looking into her eyes.

“Bring our beautiful baby into this world, okay? I’ll be here the whole time, cheering you on. I wouldn’t want anyone else to bring our baby here.”

“Okay,” Angela winces in pain, a hand on her stomach, the other now squeezing the life out of your hand.

She blows out a breath, crying out in pain, “I need ice chips.”

“Come on, baby, you’re doing amazing. I’ll get you ice chips—“

“No,” Angela all but growls. “You were gone for all of the contractions and— mmm, god. This really hurts. Point is, you were gone, and you are not leaving my side again until maternity leave is over. I don’t even care if you have to eat or go to the bathroom. You’re staying in this room until further notice. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” You smile at your beautiful and bossy wife.

#the rookie x reader #the rookie #please ask me about them #🖇️ anon #angela lopez x reader #angela lopez #wlw post

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longwuzhere · 9 months

Text

Some cool Easter eggs I caught watching My Adventures with Superman that I want to show to people so they can be in on it with comic book readers

My episode 1 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 2 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 3 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 4 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 5 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 6 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 7 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here and here

My episode 8 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 10 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

(SPOILERS if you haven't seen the show yet):

After what happened to Clark in the last episode we see that Lois, Jimmy, and the Newskid Legion are searching all over Metropolis for him and they name drop some location found in Metropolis.

As you can see from the map of Metropolis in the DC Heroes role playing manual, Park Ridge and Bakerline are one of the six boroughs of Metropolis. Park Ridge makes its first appearance in the Adventures of Superman #447 (1988) while Bakerline first appeared in Action Comics #599 (1988)

As the General is interrogating Clark we het a hologram flashback to his time with Waller in the army and Waller name drops the General's first name Sam. So we can conclude that the General is General Sam Lane (this is double confirmed in the next episode).

Sam Lane makes his first appearance in the silver age in Superman Girl Friend, Lois Lane #13 (1959). He's the typical farmer dad that Superman saves and meets. Nothing too special about it.

Now, GENERAL Sam Lane makes his first appearance in the Adventures of Superman #424 (1986)

Like her MAwS counterpart, Lois' relationship with her dad is VERY strained as you can tell by the panels here from the comic (W: Marv Wolfman, P: Jerry Ordway, I: Mike Machlan, C: Tony Ziuko, L: John Costanza). In the comics he wanted a son and Lois became that stand-in whenever he was around and that ruined their familial relationship. And much like his MAwS counterpart he deeply cares about his wife who we can assume he lost some time ago in the past. Also will we see a Lucy Lane in MAwS? Who knows.

Man of Steel, typical moniker for Superman, you're guaranteed to have that in any Superman media.

Slade actually loses his eye to match his comic book counterpart.

Later in the ep we see him with the eyepatch. Matches with his comic book counterpart as seen in this fantastic piece by Deathstroke co-creator, George Perez.

After the Superman Revenge Squad Task Force X escape thanks to Ivo absorbing more and more electrical energy he comes this giant kaiju sized monster rampaging across Metropolis with an axe to grind at Superman. The glowy bits on him remind me so much of Shin Godzilla. Oh and btw if you want to see the Justice League fight 2 very well known kaiju, preorder Justice League vs Godzilla vs Kong. Heres the trailer for it:

youtube

The first issue goes on sale in October 17th.

With the way Lois is worried about Clark here it gives off very Death of Superman vibes kinda like this page from Superman #75 (1992) by Dan Jurgens, Brett Breeding, Glenn Whitmore, and John Costanza.

Jimmy is usually labeled as Superman's best friend/pal so that's a given when a reference like that shows up

As the names scrolled up on Jimmy's IG-esque live stream we see some familiar names. The first is a reference Josie Campbell, the producer for the cartoon and the latter two are references to Superman support characters.

Pete Ross is Clark's childhood friend who first appeared in Superboy #86 (1960) by Robert Bernstein and George Papp.

In the comic Pete keeps scrutinizing Clark and he suspect that Pete might be on to his Superboy identity, but it turns out he just wanted Clark to play Superboy in the high school play. In like most Superman origins and media, Pete Ross is always Clark's best friend, but here in MAwS Jimmy takes up that role as friend of Clark but in this case its since they were in freshmen year of college.

Like Pete Ross, Lana Lang was also a childhood friend of Clark's ad also his love interest when they were teenagers.

Lana makes her first appearance in Superboy #10 (1950) by Bill Finger, John Sikela, and Ed Debrotka. In the comic Lana becomes a house guest for the Kents while her parents are away and she begins to suspect Clark and Superboy are the same person. Most Superman origins and other media usually have Lana and Clark be childhood sweethearts back in Kansas and she will occasionally show up in Clark's life again when they are adults.

After Clark punches through the Parasite body to get to Ivo we see the body just freeze there kinda like Shin Godzilla at the end of the movie. Btw go watch Shin Godzilla, Shin Ultraman, Shin Kamen Rider, fantastic trio of movies! Shin Ultraman is a better Superman movie than Man of Steel.

At the end of the ep Amanda Waller takes over Task Force X and name drops Checkmate. The organization first appeared in Action Comics #598 (1988) (cover by John Byrne) where Checkmate is a branch of Task Force X that was founded by Amanda Waller as a government intelligence agency. Like with most spy organization in the DC universe, they are shady AF. In their debut they legit kill a high ranking official from a different country in the name of "American safety".

Thank you for getting this far down in the post. Be sure to check out the other posts to see what other easter eggs and references were in the previous episodes: