#also I think I’ll stick to strictly red for his markings because they go with the whole aesthetic more 😳✨💕✌️

[cursoulla]

[angelguk]

→ i could be enough — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jeongguk

word count: 3.3k

genre: smut + stoner!jk + very in love jk + very in love oc + i like pining aus i think that’s clear now lmao + pwp honestly + sumbody needs to admit there damn feelings GOD + fwbs au

warnings: oral sex (f receiving and m receiving ) / unprotected sex / creampie / handjob / sub!gukkie for a bit / rawing it for the first time hehe / drug usage (a lil weed) / not edited bare with me

soundtrack: apocalypse, cigarettes after sex  

It feels different tonight. Jeongguk can’t pinpoint it but he knows that something in his small universe has shifted. Even the weed that settles in his lungs feels different, burning low in the back of his throat every time he sneaks a drag from the joint that sits between his fingertips. The change doesn’t alarm him though, nothing can – not when he has this gentle buzz simmering in his blood. He doesn’t even realise his eyes have fluttered closed until you turn the handle on his bathroom door and step into his room, the white light that floods his dark room blinding. He blinks into it, cheeks unreasonably room and the heartbeat bruising his ribs dangerous. There’s something angelic about the way your flit into his room, the shirt you’d stolen from his closet gingerly billowing around your frame. But then you shut the door, halting the glow that illuminates your figure and Jeongguk is left wondering why his palms are clammy.

“Why are you half-naked?” You murmur, the slur in your words making his heart skip. And then you’re crawling on top of him, situating yourself neatly over the bulge in his pants that Jeongguk wasn’t fully aware of until your heat surrounds it, and he swears his heart stops. He takes another hit before he discards the joint on the edge of his ashtray, hoping the rush that flows through his body calms his nerves a little. It doesn’t.

“I was hot,” He eventually retorts, brain slow and his mouth dry. If it was pressed against yours it wouldn’t be. And when your boldly run your fingertips along the dark inking that lines his skin, Jeongguk nearly leans over and does it. But something holds him back, a funny weight sitting on his chest. You’re not close like that – not close enough to just want to kiss each other whenever you’re yearning too. Your relationship is strictly just smoking up together, which sometimes has led to fumbling in the sheets because you get horny when you’re high and Jeongguk finds you too pretty to say no. But never just kissing.

Jeongguk doesn’t know why he wants to just kiss you.

He blames it on the weed. (He knows it’s not because of the weed).

But to satiate the need that consumes his heart he settles his hands on your waist, choking back a low groan when you roll your hips into him, the friction almost sinful. He never gets hard this quick but something about you wearing his shirt, sitting so obediently on his lap and the remnants of your smoke session filling his room is doing something to him. And he’s not opposed to it at all. 

He spaces out again, brain fuzzy because you haven’t stopped slowly grinding against him. He can hear you faintly humming to the song drifting from his speakers, the print of your warm hands on his skin intoxicating. It’s easy to lose himself in this moment, his hands already wandering further down, gripping your hips tight. The tiny gasp that leaves his mouth when he bucks up and feels the dampness leaking from your core happens out of his control. It shuts down his brain for a moment, because you feel perfect like this, dripping all over him like you’re his.

He bits back that thought swiftly, though. Because you’re not his.

And yet when you lean into his space, his hands cupping your ass and your chest gingerly brushing against his own, Jeongguk really wishes you were his.

“I’m hungry.” You whisper it into the side of his neck, the smile on your lips pressing into his skin. 

“I – uh – I’ve got food in the fridge? Or we could order something? Whatever you want – I’ll pay.” He already gives you free weed but free food couldn’t hurt, right? He reasons it out with the sex even though he knows he shouldn’t. But that’s beside the point, he just wants to treat you a little bit if he’s being honest with himself.

“Not for that,” You softly reply, abruptly shifting away and Jeongguk has to physically stop himself from pulling you back into his space, sudden anxiety weighing over him. But that’s wiped away when your lips meet his and he feels himself melt, bones fusing together and his heart pounding frenetically in the cage of his chest. Your lips feel perfect on his, gentle and tasting faintly of the chap-stick you’d borrowed from him earlier. There’s also the faint aftertaste of weed on your tongue but he genuinely couldn’t care less because he knows he tastes the same. And also his dick is so hard that it’s making it impossible for him to thread together a simple coherent thought that doesn’t dissolve into nothing with every small moan that slips from your mouth into his.

He could die happy like this. High, with a pretty girl he thinks he just might be falling in love with kissing him. Yeah, he really could die happy like this.

You’re the one that pins him down and marks his skin. He prefers it like this – when you take control and use him how you want too. You’ve never really had that conversation but you’re too perceptive to not note down what turns Jeongguk into a blubbering mess whenever you end up in situations like this. And he’s unusually responsive when you take advantage of him like this. Like he needs you to want him. You can’t help but cup his bulge as you paint his neck purple and red, the weight of his cock in your palm turning your brain off. He’s already hard, dick twitching with every slight touch you give him. You decide then, that you want him in your mouth.

Jeongguk doesn’t question it, jolting when you press a kiss against his happy trail before tugging at the band of his grey sweats. His hips rise and he helps you shuck them off, sighing gently when his cock is finally freed, sitting heavy against the line of his abs. That sigh turns into a groan when you take him into your hands, stroking gently, your mouth inches away from length. You toy with him like that, the dry rub of your hands unpleasant but also irresistible. It’s only when he locks your gaze, that you give in, reading the want in his dark eyes.

 “Please.” It sounds breathless even to him, the plea tumbling from his mouth when you finally settle your lips around his length, cheeks hollow as you sink down on him. It’s the heat of your mouth that does him in, the firm press of your tongue trailing around his cock intoxicating. You take him in so well, the slightest gag around his tip driving his hips up and up, slipping deeper down your throat because you look so pretty with his dick in your mouth. He watches you swallow him with a heat burning through his system, gaze trained on the way his cock disappears down your throat.

The cave in his stomach happens quick, his balls already tight with the promise of his release as you work your mouth around him. It’s the tremor in his thighs that lets you know and when you pop off his length, mouth wet, Jeongguk whines. He whines, actually whines, a low needy sound that slips into the room. The sight makes your head spin. He looks incredible like this, cheeks flushed and his dark curls slipping around his head. You can’t help but take him in your hand again, the twitch of his cock against your palm setting off something in your core. There’s a pulse between your legs that’s demanding attention. But your eyes can’t leave Jeongguk, watching with strange contentment as he bucks up into your hand, the weight of his length making your grip tighten. 

“God – ngh!” He takes it so well, a slight arch in his back as he raises his hips in search of friction. The rising of his chest shifts you forward, eyes locked on his honey gaze. The press your press onto his lips is all heat and want and desire, and yet somehow, it’s gentle. Slow in the way he moulds himself against you, the groans that echo in his chest falling into your mouth. When you break away, Jeongguk chases it, pink petal lips not wanting to lose the taste of your tongue on his. “Please.” There it is again, that little word that drifts from his mouth. It makes your heart twist in your chest.

“Please what?” You return, hand still swiftly working around his length.

“Wanna cum,” Jeongguk murmurs, breath short. “Please – oh fuck! Wanna cum so bad.”

You kiss him again, not thinking about how your core tightened at his confession. The negligence to your own needs is doing your head in.

“Tell me you’ve got condoms,” You state when you finally separate your lips from his. Jeongguk barely functioning, blinking a few times before swiftly twists to reach for his bedside table. You give him the space to look for it, wiping away the slick coating your hand on his sheets. The shirt you stole from his closet gets yanked off next, and you don’t wait for Jeongguk to fumble around with your undergarments, stripping them off yourself too. It’s only after you’re tossed all your clothes off that you notice him still rummaging through his drawers, a frustrated huff floating through the air as he tosses an empty condom box onto the ground.

“Fuck.” He murmurs it into the quiet air, rolling round to face you. The look he gives you afterwards is sheepish, the tinge in his cheeks rouge and a hand running through his mussed curls. 

“Really?” You can’t help the incredulity that taints your tone.

“Yeah – fuck I’m sorry. I had no idea I was out. We could something else – if you want too.” You’re too wound up to respond, the heat pooling between your legs drawing your attention to his hard cock laying neatly on his abs. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, would it? But Jeongguk is already talking – reading your silence for something else. “I mean, only if you want to of course! We could just 69 or something or – or I could just get you off. If that’s what you want, I mean.”

“That’s not what I want,” You reply, picking up on the strange emotion that falls over his features. “I just – I don’t want that right now,” You attempt to amend, but there’s still something strange about the way he nods in agreement, hesitantly running his tongue across his lips. “Are you clean?” You try again. Jeongguk pauses, staring at you for a moment before he responds.

“Yes, why? Are you clean?”

“Yeah. And I’m on birth control.”

It dawns on him a second later, and there’s a tangible shift in the air around you.

“Wait, you s-sure? Like sure sure?” Jeongguk swallows hard, but you don’t miss the way his dick jumps at the idea. 

“Absolutely,” You say it firmly, hoping it’ll erase the apprehension that emits from him. “Now, please come here and fuck me before I explode from sexual frustration.”

Your back hits his mattress a second later, a small surprised giggle falling from your mouth as Jeongguk knocks your legs open, making space for himself there. The giggle evaporates into a choked out moan when his fingers fall onto your cunt, thumb toying with your clit in swift circular motions. He teases it, grinning when you squirm a little, before he drifts down, two fingers sinking into your heat without hesitation. It’s heavenly, the way he curls them up as he snaps them into you, sure movements that have you unknowingly balling the sheets that surround you into your fists. It doesn’t help that you’re wetter than you thought you were, slick immediately coating your inner thighs as Jeongguk fucks you open. It must surprise him too because he slows his moments, purposefully watching the way his fingers sink into you, the darkness in his gaze burning through you. 

“God,” He says it with wonder, dropping down to get a better view of your cunt. “How are you so wet?” 

His tongue meets your clit before you can spit out a remark, the words that once sat on your tongue reduced to helpless sounds that flood his room. He presses a palm flat against your thigh a second later, holding you down firmly, his wet tongue dipping into your floods with intent. Your fingers settle into the mess of his hair when his tongue replaces the fingers that were pounding into you, a broken cry of his name slipping from your lips. Jeongguk eats that up – literally, tongue fucking deep into your hole and the tip of his nose nudging against your clit. It has your toes curling, the way he licks up your slick like he needs it. You only push him away because it’s too much and not enough all at once. When he glances up, soft curls tumbling into his face, and his mouth glimmering with your wetness, you let the fire building in your core consume you.

“Need you,” You whisper, pawing at him until he’s resting over you, his hands gripping the back of your thighs. You let him fold you like this, the occasional brush of his cock against you setting your skin ablaze. Jeongguk sighs, pressing a brief kiss onto your cheek. It’s just a flash of his warm mouth printing on your skin but it leaves you breathless, pliant underneath him as he settles himself were you need him most. It makes you indulge, for a moment – that this is more than just hormones and convenience. But you don’t try to linger on it, ripping yourself from that gentle fantasy that yearns to reveal itself. You instead focus on the way Jeongguk lines himself up with your core, the tip nudging you open until he just gives in, sinking deep into your heat in one swift motion. Your brain gives up then, the stretch of him inside of you dangerously heady.

Jeongguk’s not thinking either. He’s trying to empty his mind of everything because if he focuses on the heat that surrounds him or how you’re dripping over his cock or even the tiny gasp that fell from your mouth when he slipped in or the tiny flutters of your walls around his bare length – he will cum. He’s not even joking. The tightness in his gut is a dead giveaway, abs clenching when you squirm underneath him, somehow shifting him deeper inside of you. Maybe it’s the weed but he’s buzzing, body a live-wire for your touch. He can’t do anything but drop his head into the crook of your shoulder, fingertips digging into your thighs as he holds himself still. You’re not helping his case though, whimpering softly into his ear and wiggling your hips around like you want him to blow his load right away. It’s sinful, how you wrap around him like you were made to take him like this. And it’s a sensory overload for his system too. He’s used to having that barrier between the two of you, but now that there’s nothing – now that he can feel every ridge in the walls of your wet cunt. He honestly might explode. Burst into a thousand little pieces, right here, like a star reaching supernova. 

“Fuck,” Jeongguk pants it into the heat of your skin, hips slowly picking up momentum as he drills you into the sheets. You can’t help but claw at his back, taking the hard thrusts helplessly, his name a mantra on your tongue. 

“Jeon-ah!” The curve of his cock hits a spot that has your vision blurring, the knot in your gut pulled tautly. He presses another kiss to your cheek, mumbling something underneath his breath that you don’t hear over the sound your lewd meeting. It verges on sounding like pretty, a strange fluttering erupting in your chest at the thought of Jeongguk finding you pretty as he splits you open on his cock. But you brush that thought aside, nerves sparking under the piston of his hips. It’s hard and rough, just like you prefer it to be. And yet you feel like Jeongguk is holding himself back, his thrusts tight with control. You don’t want him to hold himself back. You want all of him. All of it. And you let him know that from the hard kiss you plant on his mouth, dragging your fingertips down his back. The nails on his back dig deep, but from the groan he lets out, you know Jeongguk like that. And then his hips falter, a rough groan tumbling from his mouth as he fucks you deep. It’s desperate, the way your bodies mould together like you’re attempting to limit the concept of space between physical bodies completely, searching for a way to be one and the same. It sinks in then, with claws that lodge themselves into your heart, that fantasy you keep locked up. You want all of it. All of him.

You kiss him instead, forcing your attention on how well he fucks you. This can be enough. This has to be enough.

It doesn’t feel like enough though.

Unbeknown to you, Jeongguk is on the same wavelength. He’s trying not to let his mouth run but he wants to call you so many things. He wants to say your gorgeous like this, taking his cock like your meant for him. Him alone. He wants to call you his. He wants you to call him yours. He wants so much more than just this. He wants to hold your hand when you ride his dick. He wants to kiss you awake in the morning. He wants to fall asleep with you in his arms. He wants all of it. Not just this.

He burns the way you fall apart around his length into his memory, etching every sigh and moan you let out into his mind. You look beautiful. He aches to tell you that. But instead, he buries his head into your shoulder, hoping you don’t see how much his body trembles as his high descends onto him, the short hard thrusts he gives in to your heat almost too much for his system. But he does so anyway, even slow to peel his body away from yours because he loves the way your arms wrap around his body, even more than he loves the tight heat that his length is still buried it. Somehow, it gets worse when he watches you reach for your clothes, his cum still leaking from your hole. You head to the bathroom first, and your absence in his bed makes his heart hurt. He sits there, mulling it over, so afraid of something he’s not able to identify. And then you’re out of his bathroom again, looking like an angel once more. But before he can ask – just suggest – for you to stay the night, you’re shrugging your jacket around your shoulders, mumbling a goodbye that has his heart sinking right to his stomach. He murmurs one back too, reaching for his phone like he’s not hurt by the sudden rush for you to leave. He doesn’t see you standing there, paralyzed for a moment, when he does this – like you’re hoping he’ll say something – anything, that won’t have you walking out his door. But he doesn’t. Not that you should have expected that.

You leave in silence. Jeongguk can’t help but get up and roll another joint, his brain replaying how you looked underneath him, how you felt underneath him. The weed is good; the sex was amazing. He still finds you one of the best people he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing.

This can be enough. He forces this to be enough.

It doesn’t feel like enough though.

[peakyblinderswhore]

DAY 12 ⇨ SMILE FOR SANTA

GENRE: Christmas!au, Fluff, a lil Crack

PAIRING: John x Reader (although it does include interactions with the whole family :) )

SYNOPSIS: After John convinced you to spend the day with the Shelby’s, you made sure that you were there to help with anything and everything you could. Except when it came to the family photo that Polly had suggested on a whim. Everything was getting a little bit more chaotic than usual and the family was more than struggling to keep in check.

W/C: 3.4k

A/N: *ugly crying* because i love john!! john deserved better and i’d happily die for him. *shouting* ENJOY! OR ELSE! also merry christmas :) also john doesn’t have kids in this scenario :D it’s safe to say i got more than carried away adn fell in love with this fic. it pains me to have to leave this world behind after finishing this.

merry christmas! joyeux noël! feliz navidad! meri korisomasu! (🇯🇵 rom)

After that cold afternoon in your house when John had convinced you to spend the day celebrating with his family, you had found that you had become incredibly anxious as the day neared. Last night, you had been running around, making sure that the food you had promised to bring was cooking before wrapping it up tightly, burning your fingers twice as you hadn’t waited for it to cool down. 

John had given you some pocket money and you had spent the weekend deliberating between two dresses, having no idea which one would look better on you and which one would please Polly more. You knew she could be straightforward at times but you didn’t know if this translated over to what she might say about your appearance. In the end, John had blindly pointed at one and told you to buy it after getting frustrated about your nervousness but he kept insisting that it was ‘just like any other day with the added extra of strictly no business talk at the dinner table’.

When you finished stressing the morning of, John halted your never-ending train of thoughts when he knocked on your door, prompting you to open the door and make sure that you had everything you needed for the day in a flurry.

“John!” You breathlessly exclaimed as you swing the door open to greet him, “Please come in, there’s just a few more things I need to make sure of.”

Wordlessly, he wraps his arm around you, stopping you from walking away to whatever you were going to do next. “It’s one day; there’s no need to stress out,” he mumbles into your hair,pulling your back closer to his chest and winding his other arm around you.

You bring your hands to rest on his forearms, leaning your head back on his shoulder and breathe out, “I don’t want anything to go wrong… that’s all.”

John lets out a light laugh, “Have you met The Shelby’s before? No matter what you say or do or think is going to prevent a disaster from happening, there will always be something. I’m pretty sure last year it was Arthur’s drunk antics breaking things and the year before Finn knocked over the tree by accident which, in turn, lit up the rug as he knocked it into the fire.”

“Jesus… I’m not sure that helps my mind,” you say, wincing at the thought of Polly screaming at everyone as they put out the fire and attempt to save the rug and the tree, “Wait, is that where the massive scorch marks came from in the lounge?”

John loosens his hold on you, letting you turn to face him, his grin takes over his face, “You noticed? Pol’ tries to hide the scorches by arranging the furniture differently but we all know it’s there.”

“I was only trying to be polite,” you mutter, a small smile gracing your lips.

“That’s why she loves your company,” he leans closer, eyes flickering to your lips, “it’s one of the many why I love you.”

Your eyes flutter close and he presses a chaste kiss to your lips, not pressing for anything more. Turning your body to face him completely, you bring your arms to his chest, resting your palms on  the breast of his coat before curling your fingers around the lapels. His fingers brush your face, rubbing soothing circles into your cheeks. It was a kiss filled with love and it made you melt into his body, knowing that no matter what would happen today, you would be okay and you knew that at the end of it all you would still have John to turn to.

Eventually, you pull apart, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, making you instinctively run your thumb across the bottom of his lip, enjoying how they looked when stained with your lipstick, “You got a lil’ something…” you whisper before pressing a kiss to his lips and pushing him away gently.

“I’ll go clean my face then,” he replies, moving towards the sink.

When you’ve decided that you’ve gathered everything you need for the day you make your way over to the Shelby family home. It was a brisk walk in the biting cold, tucked under John’s arm with your arms wound tightly around his torso for warmth as he carried the food you’d insisted on cooking to lessen the load on Polly.

John pushes the door open and calls out, “Pol’? We’re here.”

At the sound of her nephew’s voice bouncing off the walls, Polly appears, wiping her hands on an apron that was tied around her waist, a smile board on her face.

“Love! You made it; I’m so glad you’ve decided to come over this year. Could’ve used the company last year -- what with our Ada moving down to London,” she pulls you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your cheek in greeting before addressing John, “and you, mister,” she raises an eyebrow, “I hope you’ve warned her about your shenanigans you like to pull on Christmas day.”

Amused, you turn to look at John, “Shenanigans? You never told me about any shenanigans.”

His face heats up, turning red from the sudden attention being directed his way and from the onslaught he knew Polly was going to let you in on. Instead he directs the conversation in another direction, “Ah listen  yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, “I don’t know…” he mumbles.

You decide to save him, resting your hand on his that carried the bags you had packed, “I made something so you don’t have to worry too much. Let’s unpack it.”

Polly grins, raising her hands in the air in celebration, “Perfect! I tricked Finn into helping too so he doesn’t accidentally light any trees on fire this year.”

You giggled, “Oh I heard about that one a little earlier on.”

Polly holds her hand out for your coat that you slip off of your shoulders, you quickly thank her before she throws it at John, “Hang that up, you little gremlin,” she playfully growls at him, “me and my niece have important work to be doing.”

He huffs in annoyance but does as his Aunt requested, pegging up your coats on her coat hanger -- something that she moved towards the front of the house when it came around to Christmas, knowing this might be the only day of the year that the boys actually stay long enough to remove their coats. She lets you lead the way into the kitchen, shooing you to stand by the table. Finn wanders over from the betting den, a spoon in his hand and a bowl tucked under his arm.

“Finn! Did you let Arthur taste some?”

He sheepishly nods. She lets her head fall back and her arms sag behind her as she groans, “I gave you one job! Don’t let Arthur eat the produce; it ruins the build-up to the main course.”

John shuffles into the kitchen and picks a chair to sit at, more than happy to watch you smile and be happy around his family.

You make your way about unpacking the food you had cooked while Polly scolds Finn. It’s not really serious scolding but it’s something you can watch from a distance, enjoying it. When Polly turns to go back to the oven, John gestures to Finn, encouraging him to move closer and takes the spoon from his grip. Finn’s eyes widen but he doesn’t say anything, not wanting to set Polly off again. John lets himself sink into the chair when he licks the spoon and you giggle at him.

Polly’s head snaps in your direction, making you squeak as you clamp your lips shut.

She eyes you before turning her attention towards Finn who had made his way closer to her, spoon mixing around in the bowl. “What have you made, love?”

“I made a crumble. I wasn’t sure if you were a Christmas Pudding family so I went for a family recipe instead. I also made some chocolates in case you weren’t a crumble family either,” you say, unveiling a baked apple crumble, still in the pot and a box filled with chocolate shapes, “I made the crumble last night but it can go in the oven to be warmed up later.”

John leans into you, hand reaching to pick up a chocolate but you slap his hand away, making his yelp, having not expected that. You glare at him, “Don’t be greedy. I know you had some while I went to reapply my lipstick.”

He waves you off, pretending to not know what you’re on about, making Polly laugh after seeing the scene that unfolded before her. Finn stands close to you, peering into the box, wanting to see what they looked like. When he saw them his eyes widened. You had spent the rest of your money on buying the best ingredients you could afford, not wanting to turn up with half-assed chocolates.

“Have one,” you whisper and nudge him with your elbow, “go on.”

“But…” he glances at John.

“Don’t worry about him. He gets to eat these all the time when I make them.”

Finn places the bowl down and gingerly picks a chocolate out of the box, making John burst out, “Hey! You can’t have any if I can’t.”

“Not true,” you counter. His mouth blubs like a fish. “Finn can have some since he’s never tried them before. Plus you get to eat them when I make them and you like to steal one every now and then when you think I’m not looking.”

John gets up and engulfs you in a hug that you weren’t prepared for. Polly moves the crumble out of the way and puts the box of chocolates on the side, not wanting any of this to get in the way, she smiles fondly at the two of you. He presses a kiss to your lips, to which Finn turns and imitates sticking his fingers down his throat and being sick, sticking his tongue out. Polly abruptly hits his arm, making him jump and rub it.

At some point Arthur walks in from the betting den while you and John are making a cock-up of the potatoes. By this point, you’re both mucking about while Polly sits smoking a cigarette at the table, occasionally telling the two of you what to do with something. Finn had run off to fetch something for Polly while she took a break.

“I thought I heard trouble brewin’.”

You spin on your heels, “Arthur!”

You drop what you were doing and greet Arthur with a bear hug, making sure to keep your hands away from his clothes in case you made them dirty. He lets out a chuckle and when you’re finished hugging him, “I almost forgot you were here. Were you finishing something up?”

He nods, “Finished now. Pol’s pleased she’s got me for the day now. It was urgent. Anyway, while you were busy, er, cooking,” he offers a skeptical look when he peers at John over your shoulder, you smile, shaking your head at this, “I pushed the table to the middle of the room.”

Polly looks up from her position at the kitchen table, “Did you get out the cutlery and the napkins?”

“Got Finn setting it up now -- Tommy rang. Said he’d be here soon.”

Polly scoffs, “Whenever that means,” she drags on her cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray on the table, “let’s start plating up.”

It takes Tommy less than ten minutes to arrive. He brings his smiling son, Charlie with him. Ada knocks on the door not too soon after in tow with Karl, a pleasant surprise for Polly who had explained she wasn’t sure if Ada was going to be able to make it on time if at all.

Polly dragged Tommy into helping her plate up the food and Ada pulled you to a side in the betting den, now transformed into the dining room with enough chairs to seat you all and some.

“So,” she drawls, “have you and John… y’know, made anything a little more official? Tell me there’s at least a bun in the oven! You two have been making puppy eyes at each other for years and have been dating for almost two.”

Charlie and Karl run around the table, chasing each other while Finn desperately tries to get them to sit down for fear that Polly will tell him off for not being able to look after a couple of kids on his own. You glance at Finn fretting over the boys and shake your head, smiling fondly before turning your focus to Ada, “Nothing yet.”

“Yet?”

“Well,” you begin, suddenly going shy, “I’ve suggested a baby. He’s more than happy to comply with that.”

Ada’s hands wrap around yours, something she tended to do right before whispering something that was supposed to stay between the two of you. “Personally, I think he wants you to himself for just a little bit longer,” she whispers, “and I cannot wait until we reach that fateful day… oh just thinking about it no--”

“Ada, where’s Y/N?” John calls out.

Ada releases your hands from her hold and calls him over, “Here, John. We were just having a catch-up since it’s been so long. Let’s switch, mhm? I’ll help Polly so you can talk to your girlfriend,” she emphasises the ‘girlfriend’ part, winking at you as she scurries away, her hair bouncing before she halts to whisk Karl up to help in the Kitchen with her.

John rounds the corner, scooping you up in his arms and spinning the two of you round. You squeal having not expected it but enjoying his playful mood. When he sets you down again, he rests his palms on either side of your waist, pulling you closer to him. You lean back, fingers wrapped around his biceps to keep yourself steady as you look up at him.

“What is it?” You ask after he had been gazing at you for a little while, “Is there something on my fa--”

He lowers his head, lips meeting yours as he begins to kiss you, keeping it soft and suitable in front of the young, wandering eyes.

When he pulls away he rests his forehead on yours, “What was that for?”

“I love you,” he simply says.

“I love you too,” you feel a warmth bloom in your chest, making your heart beat that little bit faster than usual.

“John!” Arthur calls, “Did Charlie tell you if ‘im and Curly were coming or not? I wanna know if I should bully Finn into setting up another two seats or if I can rest.”

John rolls his eyes, grasping your hands and lacing his fingers through yours as he leads you back towards the kitchen as Finn aids Polly with the turkey. “He said he was coming. He said he’d also bring the folding camera, to which I assume Curly is coming since most of the fun stuff is usually his.”

Polly looks up from setting the turkey on the biggest dish you’d ever laid eyes on, “Perfect; I think we should take a family photo. Don’t you?” She asks no one in particular.

Tommy sighs, “It’ll take too much time.”

Ada waves him off, “Nonsense, all the best photos are taken in a limited amount of time. Plus we’ll be able to get everyone in it, it’ll be a good experience.”

Arthur wanders off, not wanting to have too much to do with this conversation and mutters something about setting up more places at the table.

After a little bit of back and forth arguing, Charlie and Curly arrive, camera in tow. Charlie has a cigarette dangling from his lips and Curly brings you into a hug, leaving Charlie clutching onto the camera equipment.

“Curly! I’ve missed seeing your smile every time I pop by to see the horses,” you grin as he replies back to you, “where’d you get the camera equipment anyway?”

“Oh,” he begins, “Tommy thought it’d be a grand idea if we got pictures with him and his horse after it won at the races so I searched high and low for something to please him. Eventually I found this set up and got it under my ownership soon after. Tommy even pulled me into the photo since I looked after it mostly.”

Charlie scoffcs, “Curly, you’re the only one who cares for the creatures as well as you do. I don’t know anyone with a heart quite like yours.”

Polly comes over and pulls Charlie and Curly towards the dining room having them set up the camera at one end of the table. Yourself and Curly finish the conversation when Polly returns, informing you that dinner was ready to be served.

Everyone made their way into the dining room, a plate full of food to be served up each. Ada had scribbled out quick namecards, insisting it made it more fun and then there also wouldn’t be the argument from previous years about who gets to sit next to who -- especially with the younger kids now. Of course, you were seated next to John and you were sure that you noticed the seats were a little bit closer than the rest of them scattered around the table. Nevertheless, you made your way to your seat. John stood behind you, pulling out the chair to which you smiled warmly, not wanting to call him out on his manners that he only pulled out in front of his Aunt and instead enjoying the gesture.

When you’re all seated, Polly stands at the head of the table, hands clasped together, apron thrown away to the side somewhere and hair falling at her shoulders. “Everyone,” it’s been a tough year, I know that much more than you think I might. I’m thrilled that we could all be here this evening and I hope we get to experience this again for many years to come.”

The candles dotting the tablecloth illuminate everyone’s faces, eyes wide as you all wait for what she is going to say.

“While the food is still hot, let’s take a picture, eh? Curly, love would you mind setting it up and running back round again?”

Curly nops, jumping up from his seat, making sure everything was in the right place and the flash was on a makeshift stand.

“Alright,” he says, “the lighting’s a bit funny, so if you could all stand, it might be better.”

Slowly, you all rise from your seats. John’s hand rests on your waist so you move to the side to lean into his touch and rest your head on his shoulder.

He presses kisses to your hair, “You look gorgeous in that dress, you know?” 

You lift your head to talk to him, “It’s the one you picked.”

“I saw,” he grins, proud of himself, “sorry it took me until now to compliment you. I was trying to calm you down for the first half of the day and spent the rest of it helping out around here.”

You shake your head, “It’s okay. I knew you liked it. You grinned and gave me a good lookin’ when I answered the door this morning in it.”

“You saw that?”

“How could I not?”

“All right,” Curly calls out, “I’m going to set it off now.”

“Kiss me,” you whisper to John.

He does.

Curly runs back to his seat, Ada rests her hand on Karl’s shoulder in front of you, Polly rests a hand on Arthur and Tommy either side of her, Tommy has Charlie in his arms. Curly stands proudly next to Uncle Charlie opposite you and Finn sits closest to the camera in front of his Uncle.

You almost miss Ada slapping Karl’s hand and shouting, “Those cookies are for Santa!” as the flash goes off.

It’s in this moment, that you know you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world right now.

[johnsamericano]

“Stay PT. 1” j.j.h

Pairing: professor!jaehyun x prostitute!reader.

Genre: Angst, smut, fluff.

Warnings: Explicit sex, age gap, slight mention of violence.

Summary: y/n was a prostitute in the most expensive hotel of Seoul, not because she liked to have sex with strangers, but because she needed the money. Jaehyun was her college professor, he needed to “get laid” according to his friends, but he would’ve never imagined that the girl he hired was one of his students. His favorite student.

a/n: I’m sorry if this is shit. If you don’t like this kind of topics, please keep scrolling. I know that prostitution is illegal in Korea, but let’s imagine it’s not. Thank you for reading.

Part 2 | Part 3

“Alright, that’s it for today’s lesson. See you tomorrow.” Your creative writing professor dismissed the class. “Oh, wait. Before you go, leave your essays on my desk.”

Everyone groaned, specially those students who hadn’t done the assignment. You collected your stuff and pulled the essay out of your backpack.

“I’m really looking forward to read your essay.” Mr. Jung smiled warmly. “Your writing is impecable, maybe even better than mine.” You could feel the eyes of your classmates staring at you. It wasn’t common for your professor to compliment anyone.

“I’m nothing compared to you, but anyways, thank you, Mr. Jung. See you on Monday.” His dimples showed as he waved you goodbye.

You walked to your next class while Jaehyun left the building to meet his friends.

“Dude it’s been like forever since the last time we were all together.” Johnny hugged his friend tightly.

All the boys went to a restaurant near the school.

“So, how’s your love life?” Ten asked with curiosity.

“I don’t have time for that.” Jaehyun remembered all the essays he had to grade and felt the urge to go home. “Guys, I need to go.”

“But the fun hasn’t even started, we were gonna go to the club tonight.” All the boys whined.

“I have a lot of work to do, sorry.” Jaehyun picked up his coat while listening to his friends’ complaints.

“You know what? You need to get laid.” Johnny looked dead serious.

“What the fuck, John?” Jaehyun didn’t even know how to answer.

“When was the last time you had sex?”

“A year.” Jaehyun thought.

“Here.” Johnny placed a card in Jaehyun’s hand. “The place is a little bit expensive, but believe me, the service is amazing.”

Jae checked the card.

“You want me to pay for sex? I’ll pass.”

“As you wish bro, but that place is awesome.” Jaehyun left after hearing Johnny.

While he was checking the essays, the idea of going to that hotel wouldn’t leave his mind. “Maybe it would take some stress off.” He kept thinking.

After a lot of meditation, he decided to give it a try, if he didn’t like it, he could just leave.

He felt his hands shaking as he entered the hotel. Jaehyun walked towards the reception. Everything was so shiny, it was like being inside of a castle.

“Hello, how can I help you sir?” Jaehyun placed the card over the desk. “Follow me please.”

The walked towards the stairs that guided to the first floor.

“You just need to go up and turn to the left, there’s only one door so I don’t think you’ll get lost. Excuse me.” She bowed and went back to her place in the reception.

The stairs were made from quartz, the material was a little slippery, but Jaehyun managed to go all the way up without tripping. The lady was right, there was only one door with the inscription “Eden”. Soft music could be heard from behind the door.

A man welcomed him as he entered. He guided Jaehyun to a desk.

“Right now there are only two ladies and a man available.” He checked a book.

“I think I’ll stick with the ladies.” Jaehyun started fidgeting with his fingers.

“Very well.” He turned the page of his book. “One of them is 22, B cup, 1.60 meters tall. The other one is 30, C cup and 1.73 meters tall.” Jaehyun felt as if he was buying something. “The first one is submissive and basically accepts any kink the client wants to try, the other one is a switch and prefers vanilla sex.” The man directed his gaze to Jaehyun. “In my opinion, the first option is much better.”

“I think I’ll go with her.” The insecurity in Jaehyun’s voice made the man laugh.

“I’ll read the rules for you.” He cleared his throat. “Marking is strictly forbidden and so is any action that will affect our worker’s wellbeing. You’ll have an hour and a half to do what you need to do, in case of wanting more time, we’ll charge you $50 for every extra hour. No raw sex, you’ll have to wear protection, this is mostly to prevent a STD. And that’s all.” He pulled out a box from under his desk. “We also sell toys in case you’d like to purchase anything to make your experience better.”

“I think I’m good, thank you.” He put the box back in it’s original place. “How much will it be?” Jaehyun pulled out his wallet.

“$500.” Well, Johnny wasn’t exagerating when he said the place was expensive.

Still, Jaehyun handed his card to the employee. Once the payment was done, the man made a call.

“This way, sir.” He guided Jaehyun down the hall, the velvety walls gave the place a sexy vibe. “She’s inside.” He stopped in front of a room. “If you need anything I’ll be in my desk.” He bowed and left Jaehyun in front of the door.

He gathered all the courage inside of him and opened the door. The room was dark, so he turned on the lights.

“Hello, sir.” He froze when that familiar voice called him.

When you realized who it was you felt like dying from embarassment.

“Y/n?” He couldn’t believe his sweet student was a hooker.

“Mr. Jung.” You bowed a little too low, attempting to cover the blush on your face. “If you’d like, we can make a change. My coworker is free.” You were facing the floor.

“I...” Jaehyun couldn’t find any appropriate words. The view of you in a black lace lingerie set had stollen his breath. “I don’t care, but if you want to change then we can change.” He scratched his neck awkwardly.

“I don’t mind either.” To be completely honest, no one in their right mind would reject a man as handsome as Jung Jaehyun.

He stepped closer to you. With his pointer finger, he lifted up your chin. Those warm eyes made you feel somehow less nervous.

“I’m supposed to ask you about your preferences so...” Your words caught him off guard.

Would you still respect him after this?

“Sir?” Your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Please don’t think I’m weird.” You giggled. “First of all... I like to be called master.” His ears started to turn red. “I like my partner to be completely submissive. I also have a thing for bondage, but if you feel uncomfortable you can forget I ever said something.” He was talking to fast.

“Mr. Jung, please calm down. It’s not my first time doing this. We can try whatever you want.” You smiled to comfort him, but on the inside, you were just as nervous as Jaehyun. “Shall we get started?” He nodded.

His hands cupped your cheeks as he leaned down to kiss you. It was soft, until he slipped his tongue in your mouth. You moaned into the kiss.

Both of you started walking towards the bed without breaking the kiss. He pushed you down and you fell in the soft bed.

“Mr. Jung.” You moaned his name when he started touching one of your barely covered breasts.

“Master.” He corrected.

His hands started to undo your bra.

“I’ll just...” He lifted your back to remove it completely. “So gorgeous.”

His hands cupped both of your breasts. Your hips tried to grind on his crotch.

“You want my cock? Such a dirty little slut.” He lowered his body and grinded harder on you. “Do you want my cock inside your tight pussy?”

“Yes, master.” You whimpered. None of your clients had turned you on as much as Jaehyun did.

One of his hands reached for your cunt. His fingers went over the wet patch in your panties.

“So wet for me.” He got up and pulled you to the edge of the bed. Jaehyun unbottoned his shirt and pulled down his jeans. He kneeled in front of you and slowly slipped your panties off your legs. “So pretty.” His thumb slightly touched your wet pussy.

He finally got rid of his boxers and hovered over you. “That’s huge.” You thought when you saw his length.

“Condom.” You reminded him. With a groan, he got up from the bed and pulled one out of the pocket of his jeans.

He quickly opened it and rolled it down his dick. He went back to his previous position and aligned his tip with your entrance.

You felt his length slowly entering you. It hurt a lot, but the pleasure started to overcome the pain.

“Please move, master.” His pace was inhumane.

You were turned into a moaning mess. No one had ever made you feel so good. He pulled one of your knees to your chest. The pleasure just increased.

“My slut is having such a good time, isn’t she?” You wanted to answer, but your orgasm took over your mind.

You clenched your hole around him. Jaehyun came with a low groan.

Your breathing was erratic, that was the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Jaehyun got rid of the condom and laid down beside you. His arms wrapped around your body.

“That was so good.” He laughed slightly. “You’re amazing.” His nose started rubbing against your neck.

“Thank you, Mr. Jung.”

“Oh please, I think you can call me Jaehyun now.” He softly kisses your cheek.

“Okay, Jaehyun.” You both laughed.

An alarm rang, meaning your service was over.

“I need to go.” You got up from the bed and started collecting your clothes.

“Maybe I can pay an extra hour. We can cuddle and watch Tv. Sounds fun, right?” His smile was so sweet that you almost considered his proposal.

But you couldn’t jeopardize your job because of a pretty smile.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You got dressed and grabbed a robe from the closet. “See you on Monday.”

“Oh, come on y/n. Stay, I really don’t mind paying fifty bucks.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Jung.” With that being said, you left the room.

[davidmann95]

Got a 2020 Superman State of the Union assessment?

Not the most overtly monumental of years for big blue - a lot of the biggest news for Superman this year was about stuff we’ll see next year, which I’ll get into further below - but on the whole definitely a net positive!

Really, the only things I’d say counted ‘against’ this year were the back half of Rucka and Perkins’ Lois Lane and how badly that went off the rails - which for my money was more than counterbalanced by the conclusion to Fraction and Lieber’s Jimmy Olsen - and Romita Jr. turning in shoddy work on Action Comics. Otherwise? Bendis played out the consequences of Truth in fun ways and closed out his tenure on the main titles with a pair of artful final issues, we got Waid’s return to the character alongside Francis Manapul for a great short story, the last issue of the instantly iconic Superman Smashes The Klan, and several excellent installments in DC’s digital Man of Tomorrow series, while Commanders in Crisis introduced the Superman analogue to beat for the 2020s in Prizefighter. And in mass-media Routh’s Superman got a nice fly-by sendoff at the end of Crisis on Infinite Earths, there were two animated features in Red Son and Man of Tomorrow (the former of which I haven’t seen but the latter of which is probably the best official Superman movie, even if that says more about other Superman movies than anything else), and we naaaaarowly avoided the Superman logo being codified as fascist iconography for a generation. Oh and the comics industry did not in fact end due to Covid. So all-in-all a win.

Anonymous said: It’s almost New Year’s, what’s your predictions for Superman in 2021? (I guess you can do Batman too if you want)

So here’s what we do know officially for Superman in 2021:

* Superman & Lois will debut on the CW, the first Superman TV show (without substantial qualifiers) in 20+ years.

* Future State will feature Jon Kent taking on the mantle in Superman of Metropolis, Justice League, and Superman/Wonder Woman, while a now spacefaring Clark is in Worlds of War, Imperious Lex, Batman/Superman, and House of El. Meanwhile Kara graduates from Supergirl to Superwoman in her own two-parter as well as featuring in Superman of Metropolis, and Conner Kent appears to be acting as some kind of Superman in Suicide Squad.

* Phillip Kennedy Johnson takes over Action Comics and Superman in March, beginning with a two-part crossover The Golden Age illustrated by Phil Hester. After that Action Comics will be drawn by Daniel Sampere through around September, at which point Mikel Janin will be illustrating an event-scale arc for the book. Meanwhile Scott Godlewski will be the artist on Superman, but around the time of Janin’s arc on Action an entirely new, as yet unknown creative team will take over Superman while PKJ remains on Action. Both books will also have backup features spotlighting various Superman/Metropolis-adjacent characters as there’s little space for them in the cosmic direction the main story will be tilting towards for the time being.

* Superman: Red & Blue will debut in March as a counterpart to the various Batman: Black & White series over the years.

* Outside the main Superman books, Clark will star in Brian Bendis and David Marquez’s Justice League, as well as Gene Yang and Ivan Reis’s incredibly rad-looking dimension-hopping new take on Batman/Superman. Bendis is indicating we’ll be seeing the long-delayed Event Leviathan: Checkmate this year as well, which features Lois as one of the main characters.

* Not strictly Superman news, but apparently we’ll be seeing Netflix’s adaptation of Mark Millar and Frank Quitely’s Jupiter’s Legacy next year, which centers around the multi-generational drama of the family of Superman analogue Utopian.

* Zack Snyder’s Justice League, its hour come round at last, slouches towards HBO Max to be born.

As for predictions? Well for starters, pretty much everyone takes as a given that Mark Waid is putting together some long-form Superman project now that he’s working with DC again, and I expect to see something come of that next year; Tom King has also soft-announced he’s working on a Superman project since he’s done with scripting his three current DC minis, but I wouldn’t be surprised if nothing directly came of that until 2022. I’d also speculate that Scott Snyder has something in mind: he’s repeatedly said he’s planning on a major out-of-continuity project, and he’s made clear he’s done with Batman for the time being, I imagine he’s done whatever he wanted to for Wonder Woman with Death Metal, and anything he did with the JSA right now would be extremely in-continuity; I doubt he’s playing with anything less than the icons anytime soon and he definitely seems more engaged with Superman now than he was when he wrote Unchained (hell, the end of Last Knight on Earth can basically only be read as ‘I wanna write Superman now’). Again though, dunno that I’d put money on that being next year. 

Outside the theoretical prestige stuff, everything we’re hearing about Future State, Infinite Frontier, and PKJ’s barely-veiled discussion of his run seems to suggest Jon will end up sharing the Superman name in the present and probably taking over that book alongside the new creative team. If Batman: Urban Legends takes off then I wouldn’t be surprised if we got a Superman anthology given DC’s apparent current priorities of consolidating, testing a new publishing model, and putting the biggest names first. And maybe something will finally come of the back-and-forth over whether or not Cavill’s sticking around in the movies - if he is my first guess would be an appearance in DuVernay and King’s New Gods (which is still in progress per DuVernay as of this month) - but we can all I think be pretty sure he’s still not getting a video game anytime soon.

As for what we know for certain of Batman’s 2021:

* Future State has a whole slate of Batman-related books, but Tim Fox takes over the cape and cowl to fight the police state that’s taken over Gotham in John Ridley and Nick Derington/Laura Braga’s The Next Batman, while a resourceless Bruce on the run stars in Mariko Takaki and Dan Mora’s Dark Detective.

* James Tynion and Jorge Jimenez are solidified as the creative team on the now-monthly Batman, while Tamaki and Mora take Detective Comics, with a Damian backup by Joshua Williamson and Gleb Melnikov running through the first issues of each and apparently leading to something, probably a Robin book. Elsewhere Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo take over Nightwing, Chip Zdarsky and Eddy Barrows spearhead the new anthology title Batman: Urban Legends, and Tynion and Gullem March launch a Joker ongoing, while Bruce also stars in the aforementioned Justice League and Batman/Superman.

* The Gotham Knights game is scheduled to drop next year.

Aside from the Infinite Frontier cover suggesting Tim Fox will take on a role in the present before long as (a) Batman same as Jon Kent as Superman, hopefully with Ridley and Derington coming back, it doesn’t feel like there’s a ton of big Batman stuff to speculate on? Aside from the inevitable unannounced Black Label stuff - including probably Scott Snyder’s Nightwing book - we know the basic shape of things. The Batman is inching closer, Tynion/Jimenez are probably on Batman through at least the end of the year, Mora I don’t think stays on Detective because he’s committed to Once & Future but Tamaki presumably does, Taylor/Redondo Nightwing is immediately going to be a fandom favorite, and Gotham Knights is probably gonna suck because boy that doesn’t look very good. We know the broad strokes of where he’s headed for the time being across all media. If I had to take a whack at a big guess, I’d say I’m a touch skeptical about that HBO GCPD show or the Batmobile cartoon reaching fruition, the former because that’s an incredibly charged premise that has to act perfectly in sync with another mass-media project in another medium AND we know there’s already been behind-the-scenes drama, and the latter because that sounds incredibly stupid.

EDIT: Forgot, Bendis said in 2019 he was working on a Black Label Batman book, so wouldn’t be surprised to see that too this year.

[mypassionfortrash]

KICKS (part five)

After you and Roger nail down his limits, you finally set a date for your first kinky playdate. And, more importantly, you open him up to brand new sensations!

WARNINGS: Strong D/s themes; restraints, edging, overstimulation, facesitting and anal.  STRICTLY 18+. NOTES: Still going strong with this one! Thank you so much for all the kind words and amazing feedback on the first few parts. This chapter’s really long (over 6,000 words) so please brace yourselves! AND PLEASE, IF YOU LIKED THIS, SHARE IT!

CATCH UP: Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four

Tags: @jennyggggrrr​ @sarahgurl09​ @scorpiogemini @johnricharddeacy​​ @brianssixpence​​ @hellohellothere12 @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @internationalkpoplova @thefairyfellersmasterstroke @six-bloodyminutes @hannafuckingsucks​ @dancingcoolcat​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @theedwardscollection​ @inthelapofrogertaylor​ @lnnuend0​ @just-my-sickly-pride​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ @johndeaconshands​ @loveandbeloved29​ @toreyyyyyy 

“Scat? Like… Jazz singing?” Roger’s eyebrows hiked up. “Definite hard limit.”

“You poor thing,” you muttered, wrestling with a scantily clad mannequin.

Roger looked up at you from behind the cash desk. He shrugged. “Well, what does it mean, then?”

“It means shit.”

He scowled, sticking out his tongue. “People get off on that? Having people… shit on them? Fuck that!”

You shrugged and fastened the clasp on the harness bra you had dressed Melanie the Mannequin in. Then you assessed her hard plastic, but still very naked, rack. “Yep. People definitely get off on it,” you said, reaching for a roll of black bondage tape. Melanie didn’t have nipples, but she still looked far too nude to be front and centre in the shop window, so you bit off small strips of tape and stuck two ‘x’ shapes across her breasts. That might keep the locals quiet, you hoped.

“Definite hard limit,” he hummed, checking the box next to ‘scat’ in the book. “Ok, so watersports?”

When Melanie was safely back on display, you turned around to find Roger nodding as he continued to study the book of kinks.

“I love watersports,” he said.

“That doesn’t mean what you think it does either, Roger. And I’m not going to wee on you.”

“Wee on me?” he repeated, narrowing his eyes. “Oh! Oh, fuck, no! Limit limit limit!”

Perching up on the opposite side of the cash desk, you grabbed the book. “Alright, so we’ve got blood, needles, breath play, scat and watersports as hard limits. I’m going to add vomit to this as well because I’m assuming you’re not into that?” you began, glancing up at Roger.

He gave a swift nod in response.

“And feet, hair removal, enemas and blindfolds as soft limits. Why the blindfolds?”

“Betsy.”

“That’s fair.”

“And you want to try orgasm denial, overstimulation, chastity, restraints, spanking, queening – for obvious reasons – as well as pegging with a question mark and… humiliation.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure what pegging is,” Roger said. He knew. The peachy-pink flush that flashed over his jaw and up to his ears gave him away.

“Remember Big Red?” you asked, nodding towards the display on which Big Red lived.

His voice grew smaller as the redness seeped to his cheeks and down to his chest. “Yeah?”

“And how you said you didn’t want anything in your bum? Ever?”

Roger nodded and rubbed his palms together.

“Well, pegging is when your partner puts things up your bum.”

His teeth sank into his lower lip and tugged. “That… that sounds interesting.”

“Still want to try it?”

Roger swallowed hard. Then he nodded.

“And you know what queening is?”

“Not really, but it sounded fun,” he said enthusiastically. Then he leaned forward, furrowing his brow. “What is it?”

“It’s when I sit on your face and you…” you trailed off, flicking your tongue through your fingers.

“Oh, wow! Sign me up!”

“Let’s do that as a reward for you,” you reasoned. “And you remember all of my rules?”

Roger recited your list like a well-prepared boy scout, looking pleased with himself. “No kissing. No touching unless you ask. No penetrative sex.”

“Good.”

“I… I was also reading in the book that some people like pet names – titles – when they’re… you know.”

You laughed and looked down at your hands. They were clasped together on the desk in front of you. “You usually get around to that once you know you’re going to be playing with someone on a regular basis. Why?”

Roger shrugged and smiled sweetly. “I don’t know. I’m just curious what you’d call me.”

“I’ll have to think about that one. See what you’re like when you’re needy and begging,” you purred.

“I can’t wait,” he sighed. “When do you want to… you know?”

Your insides contracted at the thought. ‘It’s too soon,’ your brain screamed. ‘He’s not ready. You’re not ready!’ But the burn between your thighs told you otherwise. Your heart did too, fluttering inside your ribs like a caged animal dying to be set free. “Tomorrow night sound ok?” you blurted.

Roger’s eyes brightened, lighting up even in the corner of the dingy little shop he found himself visiting. “That sounds great.” He went quiet for a moment, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “What will I wear?”

“Well, you’ll be naked for most of it. It won’t matter much. Wear whatever you think will be comfortable.”

“Are we going to Doxy?”

“No, it’s probably better to start off at either your place or mine,” you explained. “Just in case things take a bad turn and you drop really badly.”

“Drop?”

“Sub drop, sorry. Sometimes if you’ve had quite an intense session, you might feel a bit sad or depressed. So it’s always a good idea to be somewhere where you can have some food, a nap, a bath, hugs. Whatever you need to get yourself feeling a bit better.”

“That makes sense,” Roger said. “I can come to you if you want?”

“Perfect. Just make sure you don’t drive to mine. I’d get a taxi there and back, but if you’re feeling shaky afterwards, you can stay the night. I have a spare room.”

“What time?”

“Eight sound alright?”

“It’s a date.”

Nerves paralysed you all day as you waited for eight o’clock to roll around – and for your playdate with Roger. 

You toyed with the idea of cancelling. 

You poked at the thought of feigning food poisoning or the sniffles. 

And briefly entertained the notion, after spending two hours in the bath, of staying in your pyjamas for the whole session – why make the effort if you weren’t going to have sex?

But one phone call to Andie was enough to coax you into the right headspace. As much as you hated her for it.

“But I just don’t feel sexy!” you whined, rifling through your lingerie drawer. “I barely know him.”

“Well, you’ve got enough in that bloody wardrobe of yours to make yourself look sexy, don’t you? Fake it ’til you make it,” she said bluntly. “And besides, maybe this is what you need.”

“What?”

“A very attractive man that clearly wants you but can’t have you. Might do wonders for your confidence.”

You huffed, pulling out a bralette and a pair of silk french knickers.

“He’s a dish. And if you want, I’d be more than happy to take him off your hands.”

“Not necessary,” you said, shuffling out of your bathrobe. “I think I can manage.”

Andie perked up. “So what’s on the cards for tonight, then?”

Using one hand to put your knickers on was a bad idea, so you stuck the phone receiver in the crook of your neck. “What was that?”

“What are you going to do to poor princess Roger?”

“I reckon I’m gonna…” you paused, slipping on your bralette. “I think I’ll start slow. Maybe with a massage or something and work my way up.” Imagining what he’d sound like when he begged slapped a smile on to your face. “I think I’ll edge him until he’s absolutely desperate to get off and then…”

“And then what?” Andie purred.

“I’m going to let him. Over and over. And if he whines, I’ll ask him if he’d rather be belted.”

“You big softie! He’s already turned you to mush.”

“I don’t want to scare him off! And besides, I don’t want to hurt him. I think he’s still a bit hung up on what his ex did to him.”

“Listen to me, you’re going to be just fine. He’s definitely comfortable around you, and that’s the hardest part.”

“Thanks, Andie.”

“And I want details tomorrow morning!”

“I’ll call you first thing. Promise.”

“Alright, darling, I’ll speak to you in the morning.”

Perched on the end of your bed in your underwear, you assessed your reflection in the mirror just in case you had forgotten even the slightest small detail. Your hair was perfectly styled. Your make up was pristine. But you still lacked something. You just couldn’t put your finger on what.

Then the panic came back.

You had made such a big deal about separating all of this from feelings and sex and relationships, and now you found yourself worrying about what Roger might make of your appearance as if you merely existed to appeal to him. A simmering, self-directed rage got the better of you and forced you out of your bedroom in search of another unconstructive way to channel your nerves. 

You found that in your drinks cupboard inside a bottle of vodka. Half measures weren’t something you did. You took the bottle and a glass back to your room, pouring yourself more than you needed as you walked. Only then did it strike you how much your hands shook. And what was missing.

At the end of your hall, a pair of stockings lay stretched across the rungs of your clothes horse with the rest of your laundry. Sinking the entire glass of vodka, a tiny lightbulb pinged to life above your head as you downed the last drop. 

That’s what was missing. 

The caress of nylon on your legs never failed to make you feel like nothing short of a goddess.

You scurried back into your bedroom on unsteady legs and tugged open your lingerie drawer again. Then you plucked out another pair of stockings and a garter belt. You shuffled out of your knickers and slipped on the newest additions to your outfit.

Much better.

You weren’t sure whether your newfound serenity was down to a simple pair of nylons or the triple vodka working its magic, but you felt ready to put Roger through his paces.

Until your brain interjected. Rude.

Were you going to play with him in your bedroom or the spare room?

You huffed, balling up your fists and resting them on your hips. Weighing up the pros and cons of both your options. 

Play here and you wouldn’t have to waste time moving anything into the spare room. 

Play there and you wouldn’t run the risk of having a sleepy Roger in your bed. After all, he was almost a stranger, and you most certainly did not have feelings for him.

You definitely didn’t like him in that way.

Or at least that’s what you told yourself, yanking open your drawer full of kinks. You knew exactly what you were looking for and quickly bundled the accessories into your arms, piling them high until you couldn’t carry any more. And then, you wandered through to the spare room.

You thanked your lucky stars that the bed was perpetually made, usually for drunk friends or when your parents came to visit. The idea of torturing one of the most sought after rockstars in the same bed that your parents occasionally slept in made you shudder. And it just wouldn’t leave your head.

Until the door buzzer pierced through your flat.

“Fuck.”

His voice was so bright when it sounded over the line: “Hi, it’s Roger!

“Come on up.”

As soon as you put the receiver down, you hurried back into the spare room to lay out everything you needed within reach. Your hands went back to trembling and your heart went back to racing. You could hear the rush of blood in your ears above the sound of yourself listing your accoutrements aloud. “Cuffs. Paddle. Lube. Oil.” 

Before you knew it, Roger was at your door, giving it three sharp knocks that forced your soul from your body for a few seconds. You almost didn’t make it to the hall. Apprehension stiffened all the muscles in your legs. Even cracking the door open was a chore.

But all of that subsided when you saw Roger pacing in the landing. The first thing you noticed was how his hands clung to the collar of his coat in a white-knuckled grasp. And then the coy smile on his lips when he spoke. The way he stopped dead, but couldn’t look you in the eye. “You look nice.”

It took every ounce of restraint you had not to giggle like a giddy schoolgirl. Instead, you smiled back and stepped aside. “Come on in and make yourself at home.”

For a split second, a bolt of electricity surged through you. The fleeting graze of his coat against your arm. The heady scent of his aftershave. How he ruffled his soft blonde hair as he stood idly and awkwardly in your hall.

All you could manage was a feeble, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not going to lie, I might have had a shot of whisky before I came here.”

“I’m not going to lie, there’s a bottle of vodka sitting on my bedside table,” you laughed. “You’re still sober enough to go through with this, aren’t you?”

“It was just a shot,” Roger said, “don’t worry.”

“Ok,” you nodded. Without saying another word, you wandered over to Roger and unfastened the buttons on his coat. 

His breathing hitched when you edged the heavy fabric down his arms, but he still couldn’t make eye contact with you. “Won’t be needing that,” he chuckled.

That dark-lashed gaze of yours went straight to his gut. “You won’t be needing any of it.”

“Right, yeah,” he said. “Will I… you know… take it all off?”

You arched an eyebrow, “Come through to the spare room first.” Grasping Roger’s hand, you led him through. As soon as he clapped eyes on everything laid out on the bed, his grip tightened. You turned to him to find his eyes widening. “You like the look of this?”

He gulped. Then he nodded.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. I’m a bit out of practice myself. It’ll take us a bit of time to get into the swing of things.”

“Looks like you’re already in the swing of things,” he grinned. Before you could croak out a response, Roger was already undressed down to his underwear; red briefs with a growing tent in the middle.

“You look rather smug,” you said, feeling emboldened enough to drag your nails over his collarbones. “Lose the underwear.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to be quite the slavedriver?” he grinned.

You shrugged, watching him hop out of them. “Because I am?”

“Good.”

“We’re going to start off really slow, though,” you explained, leading him over to the bed and sitting down next to him on the edge. “I’ll gradually ramp it up a bit but if you need me to drop back a bit, just say: ‘yellow.’ Got it?”

“Got it.”

“And if it gets too much–”

“Red.”

“Red. Good. And please remember to use them. I want you to enjoy this.”

“I will don’t worry,” he said, looking you square in the eye. His cheeks were already flushed.

Before any second thoughts could creep back into the space between you and Roger, you rose to your feet. “And please remember not to touch me unless I ask you to.”

“I have a feeling you’re not going to give me much of a chance to,” he quipped, nodding at the cuffs beside him.

“You’re awfully lippy tonight,” you smirked.

“You make it too easy.”

“Maybe I should leave the slow start and skip to the good stuff.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Or,” you began, stepping forward, “I could make you suffer. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Roger didn’t say a word, but he did keen into your touch as your nails clawed down his neck. With one hand on his chest, you didn’t have to use much force to get him to sink backwards. “On your front,” you instructed.

He complied, folding his arms underneath his chin. His calves hung over the edge of the bed, toes wiggling in anticipation.

You bent down close to Roger’s ear. “Good boy.” The sensation of your breath on his neck made him jump, but you noticed his eyes closing and a sweet smile forming. The damage Betsy had done was still visible across his muscles; a reminder to go gentle on him. You wandered around to his other side and grabbed the bottle massage oil lying beside him. Not caring to warm it up, you drizzled some on his spine. He winced, trying to roll on to his side, but his movements weren’t quick enough. He was pinned. Under you. Straddling his hips, you found yourself in prime position to manipulate him exactly as you wished. But first, all you wanted to do was explore him – every inch of him.

The join between his neck and shoulder was a familiar spot. His own hands wandered there all the time. But, for some reason, yours felt better, kneading out knots caused by years of non-stop touring. That, along with the soothing scent of lavender on his skin, turned him to putty in your hands.

He might have fallen asleep like that, too, had it not been for you shuffling lower along his thighs, placing yourself within easy reach of the rest of his back. Using every surface of your hands in slow, agonising waves. Up and out, stretching him until he groaned, overcome with sheer bliss.

“I thought this was all about pain,” he said.

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth. “As much as I’d like to smack that glorious bottom of yours, I think you probably deserve this a little bit more. How does it feel?”

“It feels amazing,” he hummed. “I’ll be a new man after this!”

Impatience almost got the better of you the lower down on Roger’s body that you moved. So much so that you had to bypass his bottom altogether to keep yourself on an even keel. As much as you were dying to see him squirm and hear him beg, the buildup was even more critical. So you slipped off the bed and focused on Roger’s legs instead. Soft yet slender in your hands, you worked more oil up his calves and settled on the backs of his knees. Your fingers moved like feathers over those sensitive spots, coaxing a strained whine from Roger as he tried to squirm away from your touch. “If you don’t lie still, I’m going to have to restrain you,” you warned.

The curves of Roger’s back quivered with a sharp intake of breath at those words. Then he relaxed again. But not for long. 

Moving up towards his thighs, you relished that unexpected softness. You weren’t massaging anymore; instead, you pressed the soft flesh, letting it pale underneath your fingertips. Roger’s thigh parted ever so slightly, granting access to the even more sensitive spots between them. His desire skyrocketed, arching his back when you clawed pink tracks up and down his skin.

“You’re getting needy, aren’t you?” you purred.

“Mmhm. Feels so good,” he said, swaying his hips.

“I bet it does.” A swift smack to Roger’s bottom had him rolling over on to his back. His cheeks were flushed and his breaths were cautious. He moved to cover his eyes with his arm but you quickly stopped him. “I want you to look at me.”

Roger’s jaw slackened but never once did his eyes leave you.

For all the effort you had put into loosening Roger up, his body tightened as you curled the fine hairs on his chest around your fingertips. Unable to even breathe, all Roger could do was lie beneath you, and watch.

And you took pleasure in observing his reaction. He adored your touch, you could see it in the way his pupils blew out every time he looked at you or the way his hips rolled up against yours. “I think I’m going to have to keep you still, Roggie,” you said, finally reaching his hips. You quietened down, lowering your voice to barely a whisper. “Would you like that?”

Roger looked like an angel – his beautiful thick eyelashes fluttered while his gaze shifted to you. The calloused pads on his fingers drummed against your stocking-clad thighs, unable to contain any patience he has left. “I think that would be a good idea,” he said with a contented smile.

“You’re smiling now, Roger. You won’t be later,” you said, removing yourself from him. Then you set about looping thick leather straps around his wrists.

His tongue poked out as he watched in awe, following every single one of your movements, binding him to the headboard. Removing all ability for him to get away from your onslaught. The delight in his smile grew when you straddled him again, just below his swollen, throbbing cock.

“Are you enjoying this?” you said, brushing your nails over his length, encouraging his hips to buck and roll into your grasp. 

Roger bit his lip and nodded, allowing himself to be carried away by the much-awaited contact.

A sharp slap to his thigh jolted him back to his senses. “Use your words.”

“Yes, I love it.”

You gave Roger a sly smirk as you reached for the bottle of lube beside him. With the bottle held high, you allowed beads of the clear liquid to drip down. The freezing cold lube colliding with his skin had him straining against the cuffs, but he soon held still. One scalding hot glance from you made sure of that. 

Apparently, he was the rebellious one in Queen, but here he was, docile and pliable. Doing anything to have his balls drained. 

He wasn’t getting his balls drained that easily. 

You used one hand, slipping his length through your grasp. “Let’s lay down some ground rules about how this is going to go, shall we?” you began, punctuating that with another pass over his cock. “You’re not getting off until I say you can. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he sighed, trying to bury the side of his face into the pillow.

You grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “And you’re going to look at me the whole time.”

His voice faltered, glancing down at your hand gathering pace. “Got it.”

“If you come without my permission, you will be punished.”

Roger gulped, casting an eye over to the soft leather paddle beside him. “Will it hurt?”

“Depends on how naughty you are.”

“I promise I’ll be good,” he sighed. “Promise.”

You loomed over Roger, your noses practically touching. “And if you’re good, you’re going to get a little treat.”

“What kind of treat?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Oh god,” he whined just as your free hand joined the party, circling the swollen head of his cock. “I don’t think I’m gonna last long.”

“Well, you had better start begging.”

A laugh rose in Roger’s chest and he did his best a suppressing it enough to strangle out a feeble, “please.” As if that would convince you that he really did need release. 

“I think you’ve got a little bit longer in you,” you said, finding your rhythm. The slick sounds of those smooth, purposeful motions, coupled with Roger lying underneath you, his lips slightly parted as he looked up with you made the heat between your thighs grow. You really wanted him there and then. 

But this wasn’t about you. 

And Roger was fast reaching the end of his rope. 

You swore you had never seen his cheeks so red.

“Please, please please, I need to come!” he whined. “I’m so close! Oh, god, I’ll do anything.”

A dull ache throbbed in your wrists. But you were desperate to draw this out for as long as possible. It wasn’t what you planned, but it guaranteed your chance to push Roger almost to his limit. “Alright, Roggie, come for me.”

“R-really?” he stuttered.

“Come for me. Be a good boy for me.”

“Oh my god,” he grinned. His eyes closed. His hands grasped at the slats on the headboard. He was buckling up for wave after wave of pleasure to surge through him. 

Except the waves didn’t arrive.

Roger’s eyes shot open with a whine. “What the fuck?!” he squeaked. His mind was too blurry to register that you were in the middle of tugging off your underwear. 

Until your dripping wet cunt lingered just inches from his face.

“I just wasn’t convinced that you really wanted to come.”

“Well, I fucking did!” He was testing you. He had to be.

“Oh, really?” Your patience had worn thin. In one swift movement, you turned and plonked yourself down on Roger’s waiting mouth. “Well, fucking prove it. Show me how much you want it.”

Roger wasted no time allowing his tongue to explore every inch of you that his restraints allowed him to reach. He wasn’t even sure if he could get you off like this, but he’d be damned if he didn’t give it his best shot. After all, he was desperate to avoid another ruined orgasm. Ravenous, in fact; sucking and licking at your folds before turning his attention to your clit for a brief moment. And he was sure to let you know just how grateful he was to get to taste you. Every satisfied hum shot through your body, making your hips kick into motion on top of him.

“Finally a good use for that tongue of yours,” you remarked. Leaning forward, you began jacking Roger off again. “Let’s see if you deserve to come this time.”

He sighed against you. He wasn’t about to let another orgasm slip through your fingertips. He had to let you know he wanted it. Eagerly, desperately, his tongue swirled over your clit, gathering its own feverish pace.

Now you started to realise what all the fuss over Roger was about. You had never heard him be so quiet since you met him, and for good reason. He was an expert with his tongue both in an out of the bedroom. 

But you were so fixated on that intoxicating feeling that you neglected your own duties. You looked down to find that your hand was no longer moving along his desperate looking shaft; just idly palming at it. He wasn’t going anywhere with that action.

So you made a conscious effort. Fighting against Roger, you got to work to bring him right to the brink of release. To the point where his moans made you squirm, and the muscles in his thighs tightened again. “Do you want to come for me, Roggie?” you moaned, grinding your cunt against his mouth.

He couldn’t speak. Of course he couldn’t. But that didn’t stop him trying to whine an almost convincing ‘please’ between circling your clit with precision.

“Come on, Roggie, come for me. Come for me,” you urged, grinding your hips with more urgency. 

Just when you were about to allow it, Roger’s attempts at pleasing you stilled. 

Just when he was about to get off, you let go. 

You leaned back and rode Roger’s face. “I didn’t tell you to stop,” you scolded. “Keep going,” you urged. 

Begrudgingly, Roger’s tongue darted over your clit again with the same steady pace in just enough time to stop you from coming down completely. But he made his impatience obvious, angling his hips to lure your attention back to his cock. 

You weren’t going to bow to the pressure right away. 

Why should you? 

When he was this keen to please you, you were hellbent on letting him. 

The sea of pleasure inside you raged. Keeping your balance fast became a chore. You gripped the headboard behind you for dear life, drawing your weight backwards. “God, you’re so good, Roger,” you gasped. “That fucking mouth!” 

Roger moaned against you as you rode his face. He relished this as much as you did. He found himself absolutely addicted to your scent and the sounds you made. The way you moved. 

Hunching over, you gripped Roger’s thighs as your own stiffened on either side of his face. Immobilised by the most intense, soaring bliss you had ever experienced, you were certain you were going to see stars after this. It felt like your body had shut down as it welcomed the electricity that pulsed through you.

Coming down, you were met by the sound of Roger trying to urge you off of him. You didn’t even know how long you had been out for. And here he was just dying to get off. 

How selfish of you to neglect your new little plaything. 

Sitting up straight, still straddling Roger’s face, you inhaled a deep breath in an attempt to gather your composure. Every muscle in your body felt like liquid as you moved, turning yourself around to get a good look at him. 

He looked pleased with himself. His sickeningly pretty features were scarlet and glistened with sweat and arousal and all you wanted to do was kiss him. Just a little taste.

But you couldn’t. Feelings were out of the question.

“I think you really deserve to come, Roger, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he sighed with a soft expression.

“I think you deserve a really, really big reward for being such a good boy,” you teased, swiping your thumb along his lower lip. 

“I do. Thank you.”

Your free hand crept down to Roger’s cock again. Still hard and throbbing. “And you know that I only want to make you feel really really good?” No holds barred.

“Mmmhm.”

“Good boy,” you praised. 

Even hearing that made Roger’s muscles twitch. “You’re not gonna do that to me again, are you?” he asked, squeezing his eyes shut. Bracing himself for disappointment.

“No, darling,” you soothed, “you can come as much as you like now. Any time you like.”

Roger must have sensed the change in your tone when you spoke, because as soon as you gave him permission, his whole body shook and the only words he could manage was a strangled, “thank you!”

He came down quickly; most men did. But what struck him when the fog in his head cleared was that you weren’t done with him just yet – even though he had to crane his neck to see you at the foot of the bed with your tongue gliding over the shaft of his cock.

“Oh fuck,” he sighed, throwing his head back.

“You didn’t think it’d be over that soon, did you? That would’ve been disappointing.”

“No! Just… just be careful!”

You couldn’t resist. You had to make him suffer even just a tiny bit. So, with a devilish smirk, you swirled an excruciatingly slow lap around the tip of his cock, savouring the last drops of cum that glazed it. 

Roger hissed, but his hips told a different story – bucking wildly in time to your efforts. Pressing his cock into your mouth. “Fuck,” he cursed again. 

With one hand, along with your mouth, you settled into another determined rhythm. Your hand worked his shaft, while your tongue tackled just the tip. Roger had surpassed the initial pain and was back to gazing down at you in awe. His teeth clenched together. His wrists tugging at their binds. But the sheer girth of his cock meant that it was only a matter of minutes before a dull ache seeped into your jaw if you so much as attempted to take any more of him in your mouth. 

And it would take longer this time around for him to come. 

Then you spied the bottle of lube nestled against Roger’s hip. The jewel in the crown of your new master plan.

Roger’s cock left your mouth with a pop, just long enough to check in with him before you proceeded. After all, his legs were still wild and free; you didn’t want to risk being kicked in the face. Some men didn’t take well to what you were about to do. “Do you trust me?” you asked, gazing up at him with wild eyes.

“Not gonna lie,” he puffed, “after all of this, I’m starting to have trust issues.” The broad smile he shot you told you he was joking.

You reached for the lube with your free hand and kept your sights trained on him. “I need to hear you say it though. I can’t make you feel really really good if I don’t think your heart’s in it.” He couldn’t see what you were doing, but he did strain to see what the suspicious click was when you opened the bottle and squeezed some lube on to your fingertips. 

“I trust you.”

“Good,” you said, bringing your lips down on to the head of his cock again. Concealing what your free hand was preparing to do. 

When Roger was safely duped into believing that your intentions were genuinely pure, you pressed a finger to his backdoor, massaging his tight, sensitive ring. At the same time, your tongue continued to flutter over the head of his cock. The new sensation had him mewling in delight. You never expected that reaction from him. Even the way he rolled his hips for leverage against your finger. Slowly you eased it inside him, right up to the knuckle. Then you curled it in on itself, seeking out his sweet spot.

“Fuck,” he purred. 

“Feel good?” you asked.

“Better than I thought, god.”

You slipped a second finger inside him, applying just the right amount of pressure for his breathing to labour. Now was the time to take things up a notch. To put on a show for him. Taking as much of Roger’s cock as you could in your mouth, you made a point of making as much noise and as much mess as you could. Your spit made his cock glisten and pass through your lips just that little bit easier. Sometimes it overshot and caught the back of your throat. He seemed to love it when your mascara started to run. 

“I-I think I’m gonna come again,” he groaned. He was beginning to tense up again; everywhere, including around your fingers.

You gave a pleased moan in response, not wanting to let up too soon. 

“Oh, I’m definitely gonna–“

That orgasm had already rolled into another, not allowing Roger any letup. Your hand and your mouth were missing from his cock, but your fingers still pressed up against that one magic spot inside him. His legs continued to spasm alongside your efforts. 

“Got another one in the tank for me?” you grinned.

“I think so,” he gasped.

“I’m gonna take these cuffs off you, Roggie,” you said, scrambling to your knees, fingers still working towards one final explosion of pleasure. “You ready?”

He nodded profusely. “Please.”

With one hand still preoccupied inside Roger, you stretched over him. You swore you felt the tip of his nose caress your chest. Your other hand unbuckled each cuff around his wrists, and, with him being the obedient little submissive he was showing himself to be, his hands didn’t go straight to your waist or your thighs. Instead, they draped delicately above his head with his elegant hands clenching into bony fists.

You stroked his matted, sweat-soaked hair. “One more, darling,” you soothed.

Roger nodded. “One more.”

“Touch yourself for me,” you said, moving backwards to get a better view. 

Roger groaned as his fingers tentatively wrapped around his semi-hard cock.

“That’s it. You look so pretty like this.”

“Fuck,” he whined. The fingers on his other hand raked through his hair, tugging at the roots to get a handle on the stinging sensitivity between his thighs. 

“You can go a little bit faster for me, can’t you?”

“Yes.” He could, but he had to force it. He gritted his teeth and moved his hand quicker, with more purpose. In the back of his mind, he was sure his cock would never work again after this. Certain he never wanted to come again. And he definitely didn’t have enough energy left inside him to coax out another orgasm. But he still wanted to hear you praise him, to tell him how good he looked, jacking himself off right there in front of you. His whole body trembled, and his skin was saturated with sweat. 

“You’re so beautiful Roggie.”

His hand moved a little bit faster. “Thank you.”

Your free hand trailed up his chest towards his neck. “You love coming for me, don’t you?”

Faster still. “Yes.”

You gave it a slight squeeze. Enough to quieten his moans for a moment. “And you love having that gorgeous arse of yours fucked while you do it?”

Even faster, ’til he could barely get the words out. “Mmm, I love it.”

You leaned in close to Roger’s ear. “Next time we do this,” you began, “it won’t be my fingers. I’m not going to go easy on you, Roggie. I’m going to put that tight little arse of yours through its paces and really make you squeal.”

NEXT >>

[rainbowglittr]

Love and Marriage - Chapter 9 (Mature- Minors DNI)

Description:

After a loss in the family uncovers a family secret, Jaleia and her husband Jesse are forced to balance one family crisis after another along with their budding careers and their plans to expand their family. Will the pressure to keep everyone else together ruin their own relationship? Can ruined relationships be fixed before it’s too late?

Chapter 9:

"Jessekins!" I called out as I walked thorugh the front door. It had been a long and busy day at work and I was tired. I put my keys down in the key rack.

"Do you have to call me that?" Jesse called out from the kitchen.

"Yes I do, my love!" I walked into the kitchen. Jesse was assembling tacos he leaned over so I could give him a peck on the lips.

"I hate this kitchen, it's too damn small. How was your day, Love?"

"Too long. Some dumbass mislabeled one of our test runs so we had to do the three hour test all over again. And guess who the dumbass was? Me! I was the dumbass who wasn't paying attention and had to stay an extra two hours to rerun the test. I could've slapped myself. I'm tired. How was your day babe?" I leaned against the counter, facing Jesse.

"You're not a dumbass. I got some interesting news today from the studio. I don't think you're going to like it though."

"Okay, great start. What's up?" Jesse snuck a glance at me and then started to talk.

"So the studio is sending me to L.A for a couple weeks to work with some new artists they signed." He started.

"That's great isn't it?" I asked as I washed my hands.

"Yeah except one of the artists I'll be working with is my ex, Imani."

"Imani is a singer."

"You've heard of Imani Redd?"

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold the phone, stop the presses, rewind the tape. Imani Redd is your ex? The ex that cheated on you and then dumped you? Imani Redd is that ex?" Imani Redd was a rising R&B singer. She was always in and out of the gossip blogs and always in some social media beef.

"Thanks for that and yeah, Imani Redd is my ex. I never told you? My mom never told you?"

"No, negro! No, you never told me that Imani Redd was your ex! You guys always went by her first name so I just assumed it was some girl named Imani, I didn't think it was the singer! How could you not tell me?" I said as I slapped his arm.

"I thought you knew. She's one of the artists I have to work with while I'm there."

"You're right, I don't like that. Why do you have to work with her?" I asked as I stole a piece of meat from one of the tacos he was making .

"Because if I don't, I won't be working with anyone good anytime soon. They'll stick me with crap projects." He said finally turning around to face me.

"How do you feel about it?" I asked.

"I'm not thrilled but I gotta do what I gotta do." I rolled my eyes at him.

"Don't be like that. I don't want to work with her, it's strictly professional."

"It always is until you get to talking and working together and then all of a sudden you're reminiscing, and old feelings start to reappear, and then someone catches feelings and I end up going to jail because I stabbed you after catching you with your ex."

"Why do you jump to violence so quickly?"

"Don't push me and you'll never have to find out."

"Baby I promise, nothing's going to happen. We'll work on a few songs and that's it. No catching feelings, and more importantly no stabbing."

"The most important part is the catching feelings part because if that doesn't happen I don't have to stab you."

Jesse held my waist. "Seriously Jay, nothing's going to happen. You trust me, right?"

"I do trust you, but realize that nine times out of ten, when a guys says do you trust me and the girl says yes, that guy does something completely untrustworthy, right? " Jesse looked me straight in my eyes.

"I promise you nothing is going to happen between us. I love you. You know I know what it's like to be cheated on, I would never do that to you. You know that. "

"I know. It's just hard. It's going to drive me crazy though, you almost married that girl, Jess. You guys have history. You guys have a lot of things in common. Does this not seem like a giant red flag to you?"

"I love you, I only have eyes for you. I'm not going to do you dirty. If you trust me, you won't have to worry about a thing. If you don't you're going to be worried for nothing cause I ain't sleeping with her, I don't want her in any way. It's just work and strictly professional." He said.

"Look I trust you, you've never given me a reason not to. But, there are two conditions, one, You better answer ALL my calls. I don't care if you're in the middle of writing or recording the best song you ever wrote, you better answer. I don't care if you're in the middle of dying, you better pick up. And two, you should NEVER ever be alone with her at any time in any place no matter what. Understand?" I said, looking into his eyes.

"Yes, love. I promise." He said pulling me close and kissing me. I unraveled myself from Jesse.

"I'm also taking Di with me, I think she deserves a little vacation, she's made a huge turn around. "

"I agree. Wait, you're leaving me alone? No fair."

"I'm sorry. But unless you can take off..."

"Which you know I can't."

"Then you have the whole house to yourself and my mom."

"Screw you." I said, pouting. I crossed my arms and glared at him.

"I thought we agreed you're too old to pout." I stopped pouting and continued glaring at him. He was now getting a salad out the fridge.

"I'll make it up to you. I promise."

"One, I don't want your sex. Two, you're making a lot of promises tonight. "

"One, Ouch, my ego. And two, I keep my word."

"Don't spoil her while you're there. I know how you are."

"I'm her big brother, that's my job. You're spoiled too."

"Yeah, but my dad did that, not my older sisters." I scoffed.

"That makes a lot of sense. I'm going to call Di down. She's probably talking to that boy." He said. Diana was still interested in the intern she was caught making out with and was alway texting him.

"I thought you said 'that boy' was nice?" I said raising an eyebrow at him.

"Not nice enough."

>>>>>>>>>>

"So I have good news for you Di." Jesse said as we ate dinner.

"Yeah?"

"I'll be going to L.A for three weeks and you're going to come with me."

"I get to go to Cali?" She yelled.

"Yeah, you gotta hang with me the whole time though but yeah."

"Yeeessss!!!" She screamed. She practically jumped into to his arms to give him a hug, almost knocking him out of his chair.

"Okay, okay, okay. Chill. You gotta hang with me the whole time. Mom said not to take my eyes off of you for a second, so well be in the studio for most of our time there, but we can still do cool stuff, like go to the beach, and I know you'll want to go shopping." He said. I groaned.

"Why rub it in?" I said. I let my head smack the table.

"I'm sorry baby, we'll talk about later Di."

"I'm so excited!" She said as she sat down.

"I hope you guys have a good time. When do you leave? You never told me." I said. I was already dreading it.

"Sunday night. Well get into L.A in the middle of the night our time but over there it'll still be evenings since they're behind us and well still be able to sleep." He said.

"Send me pictures, you know I love pictures."

"We will!" Di said.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

I thought really hard about Jesse going to write with his ex. I know he had no feelings for her. I know he loves me, and I completely trusted him, but I couldn't help but to feel uneasy about it. That's his ex. But at the end of the day I trusted him and I knew he would do right by me, so I had to stop stressing about it. Plus, would he really fall in love with another woman and cheat on me with his sister there? No. That would set a terrible example.

I sat on the couch and watched Jesse bring his and Di's bags down the stairs. They were just about to leave for the airport. I waited until Jesse got to the bottom stair to say "Do you need help?" He gave me a sarcastic laugh look and put the bags by the door. I was scrolling through Instagram when all of a sudden I felt a giant weight land on my lap. Jesse adjusted himself on my lap.

"So I told you I would make it up to you. So I hid somewhere in the house two presents for you. Good luck." He smiled.

"What if I don't find them?" I asked.

"Oh, I know you, you'll find them. And if you don't there's some diamond jewelry that's just gonna collect dust somewhere in the house. "

"You got me diamonds?"

"I told you I'd get you something sparkly. " he said. I pulled him on top of me, our lips naturally moving together. I put my hand on the side of his face as our tongues danced around each other. He shifted on top of me so he could grind our crotches together. My hands moved to his shoulders. He started leaving a trail of kisses down my neck, sucking extra hard where it was sensitive.

"You're going to leave a mark." I breathed out.

"I know." He said. After giving my neck one last kiss, he returned to my lips, moving his hips against mine at the same time, the friction of our jeans rubbing against each other turning me on more.

"Didn't you get enough last night? Don't start something we can't finish." I said into Jesse's ear.

"We better stop before-"

"Jesse, I'm ready- Ew! There's no door, how am I supposed to knock? And unsee that?" Diana's voice rang out from the stairs.

Jesse gave me one last kiss, whispering in my ear "we were about 4 seconds away from me having a big problem."

"Just get up." I laughed. We sat up and faced Di.

"Sorry, we'll be away from each other for a few weeks so we won't be having our usual nightly hot and nasty, banging against the wall sex-" Jesse started to say.

"Shut up!" Me and Diana said. Diana was covering her ears. He laughed as I slapped his arm.

"Don't torture her, behave." I said.

"I will. Di," he said, throwing her the car keys from his pocket. "While we make sure I have everything and say goodbye, you can sit in the car, get the air started and play the trash music you like."

She caught the keys. "Yess! We have to get to the airport in like thirty minutes. " she said as she walked out the door.

"Just enough time." He said, climbing on top of me.

>>>>>>>>>>>

We got to the airport in just enough time. I spent the ride to the airport using foundation to cover the marks he left on my neck. Diana laughed when she saw us all disheveled and marked up. (It got a little competitive between us and considering our skin was brown I didn't think love bites would show up as vividly as they did.)

When it was time to board the plane, I gave Diana a hug.

"Be good, and watch out for your brother."

"I will, I'll miss you." She said.

"I'll miss you too. Love you." I said, waving to her as she walked to the boarding door. Jesse hugged me tight amd kissed the side of my head.

"I'll miss you, Lovebug." He said, smirking. I hate that stupid pet name.

"I'll miss you too, Jessekins." I said matching his smirk.

"I love you, Jay."

"I love you too." I said, kissing him slowly.

"Make sure you call as soon as you land so I don't freak out, take pictures, ANSWER ALL my calls, and don't fuck up with your ex." I reminded him. He picked me up, my arms went around his neck and my legs automatically wrapped around him.

"You got it, my Queen. If you need help adjusting let me know." With one last kiss, he put me down and boarded the plane with Diana. I sighed and started walking back to the car.

I hope they have fun in L.A.

Cause I sure as hell missed them already.

[thiswasinevitableid]

What about #1 with induck? :3

I decided to make this part of three of “oh no I called the hero and I like him” and “where’s the hero when I need a hug.” But you can also read it as a stand alone.

1: How to make a plot villainous enough to attract they attention but tame enough they won’t get hurt 

Indrid stares at the screens, flipping between images and notes, dismissing them one after another. 

The scheme needs to hit just the right balance. 

It’s been a month and a half since The Green Knight, alias Duck Newton, snuck into his hideout to comfort him after his body and mind betrayed him by making him sad.

They’ve spoken not a word about it to each other. And Duck has once again reverted to only fighting Indrid with another member of the Pine Guard present. Duck kissed his forehead when he left that night, Indrid would bet his entire fortune on it. But Duck won’t even banter with him during battles. 

He’ll barely even look at him.

Does he revile Indrid so greatly that any affection between them must be made up for by a double measure of disinterest and mild disgust?

Indrid has thrown everything he can think of at him; if Duck sees him as a villain, then he will be a villain. He will fight, he will scheme, he will swear revenge. No matter how often he thinks of the way Duck fit against him, a puzzle piece in strange picture of this life. How his fingers itch to call him each night.

Even as he runs through his inner monologue he knows he's oversimplifying the matter.

You see, it’s not strictly true Duck hasn’t spoken to him. There have been no face to face talks or phone calls, that is a fact. But if one were to look at Indrid’s personal phone, one would find a text chain that is mainly images. Birds, trees, sunsets, a cat. 

The most he gets for context is:

Thought you might like this

Made me think of you. Don’t know why.

And, on the ones of moths

Look, it’s a cousin. 

And an even more recent one of an ice cream cone

Tried that Gelato place you liked. You’re right, it’s fucking baller.

Indrid replied blue moon, excellent choice.

He did not add that the flavor is mellow, sweet, and a bit strange, just like the man himself. 

He’d considered orchestrating a run-in at that shop, since Aubrey Little’s Instagram suggests Duck has been going there often with his friends. But Indrid has no doubt Mrs. Nyguen would ban him if he started a fight in her shop. 

Instead, he’s narrowed down his plot options to two: an art heist, or breaking into the mayor’s mansion. 

He has had his eye on that one Gauguin….

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

Indrid limbers up in the entryway of the museum. Between his powers and technological abilities, the main security was easy to disable. And there is a route to the post-impressionist gallery that will keep him clear of the more heavily secured rooms.

He pads across the tiles to the entrance of the traveling Monet exhibit. 

And sticks his foot into the path of the motion sensor he knows is there, setting off an alarm. 

He continues forward, setting off more alarms as he goes. Its when he’s in the modernist exhibit that the wisps of unease floating through his system coalesce into a form.

No security guards have appeared. He planned to disarm them and knock them out, and they should be here by now.

A glimpse at the futures gives him just enough time to turn and see a shape stepping into the arched doorway behind him.

“I was wondering if you’d turn up.” A clipped, cold voice muses as the figure produces a small remote, clicking it once to shut off the alarms. He recognizes the reflective white glasses when the figure grins at him. 

“The Flame. I, it can’t be, how did I-”

“Not see me coming? I don’t know, little brother. But at a guess it’s because you’ve lost your touch. Which would be of little concern to me, had your carelessness not just alerted our enemies to our presence here. So I will be need to be certain you cannot cause such issues in the future. Not to mention, one fewer villain in the city means one less person to stop me from taking  total control of the underworld.”

Indrid narrowly avoids a blast of white light, diving into the annex to his right. He doesn’t retaliate, activates his wings and shoots straight up through the skylight instead.

He’s not ready to fight the Flame. He’s never been ready. Not when they were children, training together. Not when they were sparring partners. Not when he’d finally had enough, when he saw just how much The Flame enjoyed hurting people. 

That’s why he ran from him in the first place. 

Landing on the roof, he considers his escape routes. Where is his nearest hideout, where is is his defensive equipment, where-

A small, clear orb hits the toe of his shoe. Even as he throws his arms around his eyes, he knows it won’t be enough. The light is blinding, bleaching his eyes as he crumples to the bricks beneath him. The next phase of the disorienter kicks in, high pitched tones drowning out his ability to hear anything, save for The Flame’s voice.

“You’ve become such a disappointment, little brother. First you abandon the life we trained for, your constitution too weak to handle the realities of our profession.”

“You, you speak as though I haven’t spent the last several years a prominent villain in my own right.”

“You’ve thrown in with some two-bit thieves and blackmailers, perhaps an eco-terrorist or an anarchist superhero when the mood struck. And you’re soft. The Indrid I knew would never hesitate to kill his rival by any means necessary. You’ve spared the Green Knight so many times I lost count.”

“You spied on me.”

“Of course. I, unlike some people, know how to scope the hero/villain layout of a town before making my debut. Good god, brother, you must have used your powers to determine your enemy’s name and true identity by now.”

“What I do with my powers is no business of yours.” He kicks a leg out in the direction of The Flame’s voice. The fear flooding his mind, scanning the futures for escape, means he fails to see the weapon before it connects with his shoulders. 

The scream of pain as electricity courses through him goes unheeded. The Flame does it a second time, and Indrid collapses, limp, on the ground. 

“Goodbye, little brother. So nice of you to lend my grand entrance into the city’s awareness an extra victim.”

Indrid loses consciousness to the sound of sparks. 

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

“Ned, can you get us closer?” Aubrey yells from her position on the wing of the hovercraft, “I need to be more in a closer range to control something this big!”

“I will do my best, but if the wings begin melting I reserve the right to get us the hell out of here!”

“There any way I can help, Lady Flame?” Duck leans over the passenger side of the craft, looking down at the blazing rooftop for the origin of the fire. 

“Grab me if I lose my balance?”

“Will do--oh, fuck! There’s someone down there. Aubrey, can you clear me a patch, right there, so I can jump down?”

“I can” the first half of the fire dies out when Aubrey makes a fist, “but that roof can’t be stable at this point.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Aubrey circles his arm twice, and a landing pad appears around the figure. He leaps from the craft, hits his mark right by the body’s feet. The smoke is still thick, even with Aubrey’s intervention, so he squints as he gathers the figure into his arms. 

“Don’t worry, we’re getting you out of here--ah! Oh come the fuck on!” He yells to no one in particular as the roof gives out beneath him. 

Landing on his knees, he’s relieved to find the fire never made it inside , though smoke did. In the flickering orange and spinning red and blue from the nearby emergency vehicles, he shifts the body in his arms, looks down with clear eyes for the first time. 

“.....Indrid?”

Nothing.

Indrid’s chest is corpse-cold in spite of the fire when Duck puts his ear against it. There’s a heartbeat there, a faint flutter that’s the most beautiful noise to ever grace his ears. 

Duck turns to the portraits on the walls, “what the fuck do I do now?”

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

The first thought in Indrid’s mind is: pine?

As he noses the soft pillowcase, still half-dreaming of coastal woods and a campfire, his eyes blink open. 

The room is dark, unfamiliar. Thick curtains cover the windows, thicker blankets coat the bed in which he’s laying. 

Cautiously, he pushes the covers aside and eases his feet onto the ground. His glasses are waiting for him on the bedside table, and his reflection in the closet mirror shows his thin frame covered in black sweatpants and a large shirt that reads “Devils Lake State Park.”

Hell has a sense of humor, it seems. A sense of humor and a very rustic decorating style. 

He opens the bedroom door, poking his head out into the dark hallway. Moves slowly, half from the stiffness between his shoulder blades from where The Flame hit him, and half from apprehension of what’s at the other end of the hall. 

The answer turns out to be anticlimactic; a living room, with a kitchen off to one side. 

Maybe the flames and sulfur are waiting for him outside the front door.

Or maybe he’s not dead, maybe someone rescued him. 

No, that second option is ridiculous. 

“Mew?”

“AH!” He jumps as a black, scruffy cat bumps into his shin. 

“H-hello there, little friend, do you happen to know where I am?”

“Mew.” The cat hops onto the back of a nearby chair, and he pets it hesitantly. 

“My, you’re soft. Soft and familiar. Where have I seen you bef-, oh, oh my, it can’t be. He wouldn’t.”

The front door opens and Indrid grabs the cat protectively, spinning to face whatever comes through it. 

“Mornin.”

“It, it is your house.” Indrid stares at Duck, the cat wiggling free of his hold and bounding over to greet her owner.

“Uh, yeah.” Duck slips off his canvas sneakers, grocery bags slipping on his arms as he bends to pet the cat, “where else would it be?”

Indrid looks at the room around him more carefully; the poster for the Monongahela forest, photos on a shelf showing Duck with family and friends, the ranger had hung by the front door. 

“In retrospect, it was a tad obvious. But in my defense, I assumed I was dead and in hell.”

“Geez, my decoratin ain’t that bad.”

“Nono, I’m sorry, I mean-” he stops when a grin cracks Duck’s face, and is managing a smile in return when his back spasms and he grips the chair to keep from falling.

“Shit, you okay?” Duck sets the bags down and hurries over to him. 

“Yes. I, the weapon the Flame used, the side effects can be felt for over a week. It also scrambles the futures in my mind for several days, which tends to make me dizzy.”

“Fuck, that sucks. Uh, I got some Tylenol and other medicine and shit while I was out, wasn’t sure what you’d need, and, uh, don’t usually have it in the house on account of bein super tough. You should probably eat before you take anythin though.”

“Yes, good idea. I, uh, I don’t want to impose, I, I can get something on my way home.”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhh.” Duck scratches his arm, ashamed, “no, you can’t. You ain’t in any shape to travel, or to be on your own for longer than a few hours. I brought you here so I could look after you somewhere safe, where whoever hurt you couldn’t find you.”

“That’s very kind, Duck, but all the same I should go back to my hideout.”

“Also you’re under house arrest.”

“Excuse me?!” Indrid leaps up, then immediately sits back down, dizzy. 

“Look, when the police saw who I rescued, they kept clamorin for me to turn you over, or to send you to a hospital who would do the same as soon as you opened your eyes. I just...couldn’t do it. So Ned talked ‘em into a deal. You’d stay under house arrest with the Pine Guard, and we’d look after you while also makin sure you couldn’t start nothin.”

“So I’m going to live here. With you.” Indrid tries to sound resigned instead of excited.

“Yep. But, uh, if you need a break or change of scene, or we ain’t gettin along, even though it sees like we been doin a better job of that lately, you can stay with someone else. Aubrey’s place has a real nice garden, and Mama’s is real fortified and cozy-”

“Duck, I want to stay here. I am sure the others are lovely once you get to know them but, well, I trust you. I, you have seen me in vulnerable moments and did not harm me. You didn’t even mock me. I feel safe with you. Also, your cat likes me.” He points to where said cat is now kneading his leg, purring happily. 

“That is a point in your favor. Here, I’m gonna go put away groceries and get some pizza bagels heatin up. You just take it easy right here, okay?”

“I can manage that. But, before you do, please answer me one thing?”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you stop fighting me one on one?”

Duck sighs, sitting down so the cat is between them, “I wish I could say it was some strategy or because I wanted to be better at keepin the city safe. Real reason is, I was gettin fonder and fonder of you. I didn’t know what I’d do if we were alone, and not knowin scared the fuck out of me.”

“I see. Was it so alarming to feel affection for me?”

“Wha-no, no, what I meant was that I was afraid I wouldn’t want to hurt you but you’d still want to hurt me, or I’d want to do things with you that you didn’t want but felt like you couldn’t stop me, or, just, any combo of things where conflictin feelins lead to trouble.” 

“Oh.”

Duck stares at him for a moment, waiting for him to say more. But nothing comes. Indrid wants to confess, but he can’t figure out what, exactly, the confession would be. The shorter man’s face falls for an instant, before he smiles again. 

“Guess we’re roommates now.”

“Roommates. Yes.” Indrid wracks his brain for what he knows about how two people live in a space, something he has not done since he ran all those years ago.

When that fails, he draws on his nights in front of the T.V for clues.

“Do I need to label my food? Or hang a sock on the door?”

“What?” Duck giggles

“Those are roommate things!”

“You’re right, you’re right” Duck holds up his hands in surrender, still giggling, “You don’t gotta label food, and no need to hang a sock if you need privacy; that room you’re in is the spare bedroom. Mine’s just across the hall. We can figure out chores and things as we go; might make you clean the bathrooms to make up for all the punchin.”

“That is more than fair.” Indrid smiles.

“There it is.” Duck murmurs.

Indrid cocks his head.

“That smile. You’re happy one, not your evil one. Make’s you look so fuckin stunnin.”

He disappears into the kitchen before Indrid can decide on being flattered or flustered. Settles on both, rolls onto his back on the couch, pulling a large, plaid blanket down onto himself, fuzzes with the pillows to find a position that doesn’t hurt. 

The smell of processed cheese and cheap marinara fills the house as Duck walks in with something hidden behind his back. 

“You might need this while you’re nestin up on the couch.”

He produces the mothman pillow from Indrid’s hide-out, which the villain grabs, wrapping his arms around it.

“Kinda had to give away your hideout. Sorry. They’re gonna bring more of your stuff over later, but they let me put together a box of things you might need right away. Grabbed your toothbrush and such too.”

“Thank you.” Indrid’s replies, muffled against the pillow. “Duck, I, I don’t know how, what am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to repay you?”

“You don’t got to. Yeah, there’s some things you could do that’d make both our lives a whole fuck of a lot easier. But Indrid?” He kneels down so they’re face to face, cups the back of Indrid’s head, and it’s tender and warm and Indrid presses into the gesture, desperate for more. 

“Long and short of it is I’m so fuckin glad you’re alive.” 

The chapped lips on his cheek can’t be written off as a dream this time. Duck turns his face gently by his chin to kiss the other and Indrid whimpers.

The timer dings.

“That’s lunch ready. I’ll go grab it, we gotta some calories into you, you been out for nearly whole fuckin day.” He stands, pauses, then reaches forward to trail a thumb on Indrid’s left cheek and down to his lips.

“Don’t you go anywhere.”

Indrid kisses the pad of the thumb before nipping it once, “Not a chance. You are stuck with me, Duck Newton.”

Duck grins, “Think I can handle that”

[ti-bae-rius]

Rafael and Max QSA fic

Lightwood-Bane kids fic (mundane AU) – based loosely off @khaleesiofalicante‘malec parent-teacher meeting headcanons’. It’s also very queer-positive and I hope you enjoy. Also yes some ages are weird and yes I did totally manip some canon to make this work but eyyy all in the spirit of the AU. 

“Who was that guy with Max at the parent-teacher conference?”

Rafael looked up from his lunch quizzically. Frickin’ Capri Suns. Who designed those flimsy little straws?

“Huh?” he asked.

He and his friends had claimed a table in the cafeteria and, as ninth graders, none of the younger middle schoolers ever encroached on their territory. Beside him was his childhood best friend, Alex, but the other guys – Ethan and Zabi – he’d only met recently through soccer try-outs.

“My brother is in class with Max,” Zabi told him. “You know, Hakim? He said your dad was there with Max and a tall guy wearing loads of rings.”

“Oh,” Rafael said, understanding, and took a bite of his stir fry. Magnus made the best stir-fry, with broccoli and baby corn. He was pretty sure Max had spent the morning waiting for the lunch bell just like him. “That’s my papa.”

“What?” Zabi asked, looking jealously at Rafe’s lunch.

“So, like, you know my dad – he picks me up from soccer practise – and then there’s my papa and he works late but he’ll be at the game next weekend. You’ll meet him at our parent-teacher conference on Friday anyway.”

“He has two dads,” Alex clarified, not looking up from his comic book. He was on the last issue of The Vision and refused to be disturbed by trivialities like food, especially since he – like Zabi – had cafeteria lunch and today’s mac and cheese resembled neither of the titular ingredients.

“But your dad doesn’t look gay,” Ethan said and Rafe’s brows furrowed.

“How do you ‘look gay’?” he asked, making sarcastic air quotes with his fingers. “You can’t tell if someone’s gay by looking at them, dude.” While he was pre-occupied, Zabi’s hand shot out and Rafael batted it away. “Don’t even think about it. This stir fry is my life, Zee.”

“But, like, you play soccer,” Ethan said and Rafe stared at him in confusion.

“Yeah?”

“But your dads are gay.”

“Yeah?”

“So…they let you play sports? Like, you don’t have to do theatre or whatever.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “I don’t even know where to start with that. That was like you were trying to win a game of homophobia bingo.”

“It’s not homophobic,” Zabi protested. “You just don’t seem like the type to like guys.”

“I’m not gay,” Rafael explained, painstakingly slowly. “My parents are.”

“But they’ll probably make you gay too,” Zabi said, with a conviction Rafe almost admired in its boldness.

“Oh my God, is Alex the lucky guy?” Ethan laughed and Rafael stood up, packing up his food and pushing his chair back. “Hey,” Ethan called. “Where are you doing, man? We’re just kidding. Don’t be all dramatic.”

“I don’t want to talk to you guys right now,” Rafe said, sounding frustrated. “You’re being idiots. I’m gonna eat lunch someplace else. Alex?”

From behind his comic, Alex was flushed red and his eyes were wide and imploring behind their glasses. “Come on, Rafe,” he said quietly. “Sit back down.”

“Are you serious?” Rafael half-laughed, but Alex looked away sheepishly. “Whatever. And I have a lot of homework, so you can’t come over tonight after soccer.”

Shoving his juice in the garbage, Rafael began the task of scanning the cafeteria for his brother. Luckily, it wasn’t difficult.

Max was, Rafael believed, something of a disco ball; attention-grabbing, a hallmark of a good party, and sure to be a talking point wherever he went. This might have been at least in part due to his blue-dyed hair, that or his tendency to pull people along with him to partake in some kind of adventure. To Max, everything was an adventure and as much as Rafael pretended he was too cool to play games with his little brother, climbing fire escapes to snoop on college film classes to see movies for free was kind of badass. It was fun to be part of Max’s adventures, especially when they involved scaring themselves stupid watching slasher flicks through windows with the wind whistling behind them all the way home like the breath of the crazed killers in the movies.

Now, at lunch, Max was currently attempting to charm a girl from his class called Mina by clumsily juggling three apples. One fell and rolled under the table, disrupting his rhythm, and he surrendered with a grin of defeat. He ducked under the table to get the lost apple, laughing at himself along with Mina and his friends. He didn’t even see his older brother approach.

“Max, come over here.”

Max turned and glared at Rafael.

“I’m busy,” he said, before darting his gaze pointedly to Mina.

“Too bad, this is important,” Rafael responded. Max sighed and got to his feet, reaching his hands out to his friends dramatically as if grasping for help. Rafe rolled his eyes and beckoned Max over to a quiet corner of the lunch hall to talk. When he was satisfied they weren’t going to be overheard, Rafael started speaking.

“Did your friends say anything about Dad and Papa after your parent-teacher night?”

Max gave a puzzled look. “I…don’t think so? We haven’t talked about it really. Everyone has been talking about the fact Anjali’s parents bought her a macbook for passing the finals.”

“Jesus, maybe we should try and get adopted by them,” Rafael said, shaking his head. “What twelve year old needs a macbook?”

“Um, me hopefully?” Max said, and Rafe shushed him.

“That’s not the point. The point is that people are talking in my grade. Ethan is being a real jerk about it.”

Max wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Why?”

“I don’t know, but I want to find out if I just have bad taste in friends or if our school sucks generally. Try and find out whether your group has any issues.”

“What then?” Max asked, wide-eyed. “Are we gonna, like, beat them up?”

“What? No,” Rafe said, confused.

“Oh good, because I’m obviously very here for sticking up for Dad and Papa but I’m really more of a pacifist than…”

“Yeah, I got it,” Rafael interrupted. “I gotta go. I’ll meet you later to walk home.”

“Don’t you have soccer? You always walk with Alex after soccer.”

“Not today,” Rafael said grimly. He glanced over at the table where Max’s friends were sat. “That Mina?” he asked and Max nodded. “Good luck. Tell her she has cool shoes. They have Adventure Time characters on. Dredge up anything you remember from those clips I showed you.”

“I knew your YouTube spams would be good for something,” Max grinned.

“By the way, you have broccoli in your teeth.”

“What?” Max asked, sounding frantic. Rafael cracked up. “Are you messing with me? Gimme your phone!” Rafael held it up out of reach and Max snatched up a spoon from the table, inspecting his smile in the reflective surface. When he found nothing, he hit Rafe with it lightly. “You’re the worst.”

“Four o’clock, bike racks!” Rafe shouted and Max disappeared back to his table with a glare, making Rafe smile. That was, until he glanced back at his usual table and saw Alex looking at him over the top of his comic. Rafael’s smile faded and he walked out, ready to find a back corner of the library to start researching his ideas where no one would see him – especially not his asshole friends.

 “I think some of my friends suck too.”

Rafael looked across at Max. The two of them had come home early and let themselves into the apartment, but neither had spoken much on the way home. Max read a book on the subway home and Rafe had his earbuds in, both distracted. Now, sat on the floor of the apartment doing their homework, Max had finally decided to talk. It wasn’t quite what Rafael had wanted to hear though.

“Really?”

Max nodded, looking disappointed. “Some of them are cool. Mina thinks her brother might be bi. The guys were cool. A couple of the girls were weird about it though.”

“Weird how? Like…homophobic?”

Max shrugged uneasily. “I don’t know. They weren’t like, hating. If anything it was the other way. They were being all weird and squealy about it, saying how much they love gay people. They’ve never even met Dad and Papa. I guess that’s better? But it still feels…kind of bad. Plus, they were all ‘we could totally tell because your dad dresses so well’.” Max scowled.

“I assume they meant Papa,” Rafe grinned. “Dad’s sweaters look like he found them in a hedge and then let a rabid dog maul at them for good measure.”

Max laughed before falling serious again, closing his book, a ruler in the page to mark his place. “What should we do?”

“I have some ideas. Have you heard of a QSA?” When Max shook his head, Rafael continued. “So, it stands for Queer-Straight Alliance and it’s like a club where queer students and allies can meet and make friends. It’s about teaching people what queerness means and making people understand better. I think it’s a good idea. I’ve been researching it.”

Max was smiling, nodding. “I like it. Do you think the school would allow it?”

Rafe’s own grin was mischievous. “Who said we have to tell them? This would be underground, strictly invite-only. The teachers would never have to know. That’s the beauty of social media.”

Max gasped excitedly, punching Rafael on the arm in a gesture of respect. “Like Dumbledore’s Army? Oh my God, where’s our Room of Requirement going to be?”

“God, you’re such a little nerd,” Rafael sighed. “But…how about the old music room in the basement?”

Max grinned. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good. Oh, this is so cool!”

Rafael nodded. “I think it could be.”

When the door opened, admitting both their parents, who were laughing at the coincidence of them both coming home at the same time, the boys exchanged a look and fell silent. Rafael packed his stuff into his bag, and disappeared to his room, pulling his laptop out ready to do more research and send out mass-texts to relevant people.

 “Hey, get some sleep, blueberry.”

Max looked up to see Alec in the doorway, a hand hovering over the light switch.

“Max? Can I turn this off? Wanna switch your lamp on if you’re still reading?”

“What’s it like being gay?”

Alec made a surprised noise and then came into the room, sitting down on the end of Max’s bed.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, what would you want people to know? If you could talk to the people who didn’t get it, like those people with the signs at that parade we went to, what would you tell them?”

Alec pressed his lips together and crossed his legs on the bed, leaning on his elbows.

“That’s a good question,” he said, and hummed in thought. “I guess I’d ask them how they’d feel, if it was them, or if it was someone they loved. I just wonder if they’d think the same way if it was something about them that so many people were opposed to. Like if they’d spent years not being able to get married because they were blonde or whatever. You know?”

Max nodded and turned on his bedside lamp. “It isn’t fair.”

Alec shook his head, smiling wryly. “No, you’re right. It isn’t fair. But people can learn, if you’re kind enough to educate them. You just need to be patient, and honest, and open. Sometimes, it takes people being vulnerable for the people who disagree with them to see they’re human too.” Max smiled sadly and Alec put a hand on his son’s knee over the duvet. “Why do you ask? Is there anything you want to talk about?”

Max shook his head. “No, nothing. I just wanted to know.”

“Okay,” Alec said, standing up. “It’s a very thoughtful question. Thank you for asking me.”

“Thanks for telling me,” Max said, and flicked his bedside lamp off. “Actually, can you turn the light out? I’m kind of tired.”

“Sure thing. Papa will come and say goodnight in a second. Sleep well, blueberry.”

As the room plunged into darkness, Max pulled out his phone from where it was charging by his bedside. He pulled up Rafael’s text tab and started typing:

‘I have intel’

Rafael’s reply came quickly.

‘12. Music room. Tell your friends. I’ve snapped some others.’

Max liked the message and turned his phone over so any notifications wouldn’t wake him up. By the time Magnus came in to say goodnight, he was already fast asleep, huddled under the duvet as always, a small ball in the middle of the bed. Magnus folded the curtains so the morning light wouldn’t wake his son and closed the door softly behind him.

 “Well this isn’t quite the revolution I expected.”

Max kicked his friend Raja in the ankle and sighed. The two of them, Rafael, and a small group of trusted confidants were gathered outside Music Room 1 in the mostly-abandoned basement of the school, staring at the locked door in defeat. The lights weren’t even on down here anymore, all the lightbulbs long since dead and never replaced. The underlit chins of texting friends was almost eerie in the gloom. All that survived down here, like the aftermath of a nuclear war, was brooms and Windex, and the occasional scuttling cockroach. Internally, Max was a little disappointed. Mina had promised to be here, and she was nowhere to be seen. He sagged a little on his feet. However, on cue, footsteps ran down the stairs. The gathered group scattered behind alcoves and stacks of chairs. The footsteps stopped abruptly and there was the sound of breath catching.

“Um…hello?”

Max wriggled out of his hiding place at the voice. Mina.

“Hey!” he said, and cringed a little when his voice cracked. Ugh seventh grade fricking sucked. Mina didn’t seem to notice. She beamed when Max emerged. “We, um, we can’t get in. It’s locked,” Max admitted, and she waved a dismissive hand.

“Kit taught me how to pick locks. I can get us in.”

“Cool,” Max breathed. Behind him, Rafael snorted and Max blushed, pulling out his phone. “I’ll give you some light. Here.”

With the torch beam on, Max bent down by Mina, who was twisting one paper clip and holding the other in her free hand. Her tongue poked out of the side of her mouth as she worked and, bent so close, Max could smell her shampoo. When the door made a clicking noise, and she pushed it open, the whole group cheered and she flicked the light on inside, grinning proudly.

“Thanks for the torch,” she said and Max smiled, red-faced.

“It’s cool.”

“Right, so I kind of explained over text but I’ll tell you all properly what this is,” Rafael said. Everyone was finding seats where they could – atop amps and on the stools behind the drumkits or at the piano benches – but Rafael stood. Max had claimed a spot beside Mina on a table, her legs crossed and his pulled up to his chest. Before everyone, Rafael felt a little nervous. Max was the one who was good at talking to crowds, performing in front of people, not him. Nevertheless, this was important, so he continued. “Okay, so this is the New York Educational Institute Queer-Straight Alliance, or the NYEIQSA for short – well, not that short.” A smattering of laughter made him relax a little. “QSAs are really important. Max and I have two awesome dads but not everyone gets it. Some people feel bad for us because we don’t have a mom or assume stuff that isn’t true about our family. Sometimes…” He thought back to lunch the other day and sighed. “Sometimes people can be mean. A lot of the time, though, people say stuff that sounds bad because they don’t understand and that’s what we’re doing here. We want to educate each other. Maybe some of you have family who aren’t straight or cis, or maybe there are people in here who aren’t. We aren’t asking you to come out, and we don’t want you to out anyone else, but we do want to talk about it and make people understand. That way, we can tell other people about stuff and people maybe won’t be freaked out by stuff that’s different.”

“I was talking to my dad last night and I asked him what he would want people who didn’t like gay people to understand about being gay, and he said he wanted them to think about what it would be like if it was something they couldn’t choose that everyone got mad at,” Max put in, and stood up from his spot on the table. “Like, what if people hated you just because you had brown hair or green eyes or something. You’d think it was really stupid and unfair, but that’s just like being gay. Like, it isn’t fair to bully people for something they can’t control, and you can’t control whether or not you’re gay.”

“And if you have questions, we can answer them. Or someone else in the group can. And if none of us can answer we can ask our dads or someone we know. That way, we can all understand. What do you think?”

“That’s badass,” Mina grinned and some others nodded along.

“Show of hands who’s in?” Rafael asked and he and Max exchanged ecstatic looks when every arm went into the air.

 “So…when do you decide to be gay?”

“You don’t decide. You’re born gay, you just eventually come out – which is what it’s called when you tell people you’re gay or whatever. It can be any time. My Papa has been out forever but my Dad only came out when he met Papa and they started dating.”

Everyone was lounging around on random surfaces – the floor was covered with coats and sweaters being used as pillows – and asking questions. To their surprise, Max and Rafe weren’t the only ones answering. After the initial few questions, others started pitching in with their own answers.

“What’s the difference between polysexual and polyamorous?”

“Polysexual is being into many, but not all, genders,” someone said, who was googling terms at the back when a lapse of silence fell.

“My brother is polyamorous.”

A boy a little older than Rafael named Tavvy was sat with his legs out in front of him. When the room turned to him curiously, he sat forward.

“So, my brother Mark has a boyfriend called Kieran and a girlfriend called Cristina.”

“Do they know about each other?” someone asked and Tavvy laughed.

“Yeah, he’s not cheating on them. They’re all dating each other. It’s like…hang on.” He walked over to the whiteboard, where composition lines for music were written, and uncapped one of the pens on the windowsill nearby. He sketched a triangle with double-ended arrows for sides and marked them: M, K, C. “So, they’re all dating each other, see?”

Somewhere above them all, a bell rang and Rafael sighed. “That’s the final bell. We have to get to homeroom. This was really fun though. Ask your friends if they wanna come and keep this a secret from teachers and stuff.”

“When are we meeting again?” Tavvy asked and Rafael faltered.

“Um…”

“Thursday?” someone suggested, and a group mutter of assent went around the room. Two days. Rafael and Max exchanged looks. They hadn’t expected this to be such a hit, but they nodded.

“Thursday sounds good,” Rafael said, at the same time Max said, “I’ll make a group chat.”

The group dispersed and Rafael gave Max a grin. Maybe this whole group thing wouldn’t be so hard after all.

 By a couple of weeks in, a problem became obvious: the room just wasn’t big enough. The small music suite felt cramped and claustrophobic, and they’d slowly migrated into the neighbouring room; it was a bigger room that must’ve once been a classroom. Who knew how long it had been abandoned? It still had a chalkboard, so the chances of someone coming down here to find them was slim. Rafael, Max, and Mina had shown up early on their first session in the new room, rearranging furniture and covering the glass-front window with construction paper to mask any light. Eventually, into the amicable silence, Mina spoke.

“My brother came out.”

Rafael turned, smiling. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He’s bi and dating this guy. They’re really gross together. His boyfriend came over for dinner.”

“What’s he like?” Max asked.

“Kit’s boyfriend? Kind of weird, but in a good way. He’s a forensic psychologist so he uses really big words, but he’s also beat my mom at Trivial Pursuit, so I think he’s pretty cool.”

A knock at the door made them all turn. When Rafael saw who it was, he startled. He’d hardly seen his friends since their fight at lunch, had made only polite conversation. Now, here was Alex, looking shy and nervous, but hopeful.

“Um, hey. I…I wondered if I could join?”

“Sure, ah…” Rafael turned to Max. “You two go make sure the others know where we’re going. They’ll be here in five minutes.”

Max and Mina left, closing the door behind Alex, leaving the two boys staring at the floor instead of each other.

“I’m really sorry,” Alex said finally, pushing his round glasses up his nose.

“Why didn’t you come with me? Why did you stay with them when they said all that stuff?”

Alex shrugged. “I don’t know. I…I didn’t want us to fight and I thought if I just stayed quiet maybe it would be okay.” He sat down on a table and looked at his hands. “I don’t know. I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

Rafael nodded, sitting down beside him on the table. “My dads have missed you coming over for dinner after practise.” Alex huffed a laugh and smiled tightly. “Papa said your goal last Saturday was ‘better than a well-shaken cocktail’.” This time, Alex did laugh, but it sounded shaky. Rafe put an arm around him worriedly. “Hey, dude. It’s okay. I’m not mad anymore.”

“I’m just scared, Rafe.”

Rafael glanced across, saw Alex rub a hand under his glasses, and decided not to ask questions. He put his head against Alex’s shoulder and texted Max to keep the others in the hall until he said to let them in.

“You wanna come over for dinner tonight? Papa is making nasi uduk. It’ll taste amazing.”

Alex nodded, sniffing. “We’re still best friends, right?”

“Obviously.”

“What’s nasi uduk like?”

“Oh my God, it’s so good,” Rafael began, launching into an explanation. By the time he was done, Alex was feeling better, smiling. He gave Rafael a grateful nod, which Rafe returned. “Our adoring public awaits. You wanna stay for the meeting?”

Alex sighed, nodding. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

[ithinkilikeit-reactions]

K-Pop life lessons (2 year old blog anniverary project)

I believe that music is something that can bring people together. I believe that the musicians we listen too and the things they create can teach us things. This goes for every genre, not just K-Pop. But there is a stigma around K-Pop of it just being men and women dancing around singing about ice cream, rainbows and happiness. It can be that, but it can be incredibly meaningfull and the artists teach us things. 

Here are some things I have learned: 

Monsta X , BTOB and Seventeen taught me that family isn’t just blood, it can go further than that. Your friends can become your family. 

SHINee and VIXX taught me that it’s perfectly fine to go against the grain of what others do. As long as you stay yourself. 

Day6 taught me that it’s okay to feel alone sometimes, but in the end you are never truly alone. 

Sistar, Girl’s Generation, AOA, Mamamoo etc have taught me that it’s okay to be confident and speak my mind when I feel like I am being done wrong. 

Here are some life lessons that other Kpop fans have chosen to share with me

“stray kids taught me that it's perfectly okay to be sad, depressed, or have anxiety because there's always a light at the end of the tunnel and so there's so many people just like me”

-@lysss-xo

“Super Junior taught me how to smile and laugh again after I had spent so much time barley going through the motions.”

-signed, A Shy Male ELF.

“VIXX and BTS taught me that even when you might feel down and think that nothing matters, eventually everything is going to get better.”

-        @michelleherrera16

“Day6 taught me that’s it’s okay to go at my own pace and everyone can feel lonely and thats okay Stray Kids thought me that everyone feels lost at some point and going into adulthood is scary and longing to go back to the easier days is normal”

-@its-simply-me19

“BTS taught me that I can't always think about everyone else, I'm young and I have my own dreams to go after. If I need it, I'll take the time to sort my sht out. That's thanks to SUGA's 'Nevermind'. Mikrokosmos made me realize I have a reason for being here right now, and my existence does matter. These two songs had lyrics that pulled me out of suicidal thoughts i'd been dealing with for 6 years. It’s so weird that certain lyrics had that effect on me. Although I still have depression and social anxiety, I’m slowly getting over it. I’m finding myself.”

-@moonkiddionysus17

“This is pretty basic, but BTS and Got7’s Jackson are teaching me to love myself since I hate myself to my core. It’s a long road but I know I’ll get there eventually ❤️⭐️”

-@broken-scene-queens 

“I know this isnt strictly what you asked butVixx and esp, Hakyeon inspire me. I see him being a leader and helping his members, vlogging, serving his country, moving out, spending time with friends and family, doing charity work in a very super low key way, being kind, gracious and just a lovely human being and it reminds me that's what I need to be. I want to inspire and carry myself with the level of maturity and grace he has.”

-anon

“Wanna One taught me the right way to life with memories, to not get stuck in the past holding onto memories crying because they're not coming back, instead I've learned to treasure memories and see them as something beautiful without pain, but with a smile on my face.”

-Anon

“VIXX and BTS showed me that there is nothing wrong with being sexually dominant and identifying as a woman -- their subby concepts gave me metaphorical wings. (my name is Coral but I don't have a tumblr I just check yours sorry)”

-Anon

“Monsta x and Dreamcatcher taught me to never give up on your dreams, no matter what anyone says, the amount of pain and heatbreak, or how long it takes. Dreamcatcher specifically taught me that it is okay to start over if what you were doing in your life did not turn out to be what you wanted. Sometimes it takes a little more time to figure yourself out before you are happy. ( Their story of how they went from Minx to Dreamcatcher really inspires me)”

-@brieflycraftycollectoruniverse 

“N.flying taught me that it’s okay to be weird, out of the box, and different. Taught me how to accept my weird personality and find others that accepted it as well.”

-anon

“So for me, it was VIXX. They were my first group and they came into my life at the right time. I had hit an all time low with my depression. 'Error' distracted me from the bad in the world and it was through them that I learned that there was still beauty in the world. Their lyrics inspired and Ravi in particularly inspired with his own struggles and his outlooks on life. I don't think I would be here or at least as happy as as stable as I am if it wasn't for them.”

-Anon

“A lot of the groups have fought me the families don’t end in blood, that you can make your own if needed, mainly 17 and Victon”

-🦋 anon

“iKON, EXO, and Monsta X taught me what a real family looks like, and how to support my fam through thick and thin. The most important lesson is that family doesn't end with blood, and sometimes it doesn't even start with blood. After all, the blood from a pact with your real family will always be thicker than the water of the womb.”

-@wynnewriteshq

“Red Velvet didn't really teach me much, but they gave me a reason to smile. Wendy said this on VLIVE a little after RV's 5th anniversary: "I will always be there for you, I will be there even when you leave because you can always come back to me." (paraphrasing) It made me cry a little on the inside because I found them the summer before I started high school. It was really rough but I had their music to make me happy.”

-Anon

“Tbh I got into kpop at a crazy time I'm a young mom and I felt so out of touch with who I am. It was more than one group, but the combination of "fun thing for me " and BTS had just started the love yourself series... it meant the world to me to remind myself that the me that exists under "mom" was worth love too.”

-Anon

“Got7 taught me that it's okay to have fun while chasing your dreams and ambitions. You're not doing anything wrong while having fun cause you're still on the path you wanna go. Even if there are people that don't believe in your dreams remember that you're doing for yourself, not for them. Do what makes you happy.”

-@ahgasedaa-mark

“Blackpink taught me to be the badass woman i am today. I think without them i would still be in my shell of depression and fear. Got7 didnt teach me anything they saved my life. Their music calms me and makes me feel loved with saying how beautiful, amazing, and perfect you are in their lyrics. I know it may sound cliche but their music has helped me a lot feel beautiful and good about myself. Bts did the same. both got7 and bts had taught me that i deserve better. They became my safe space when i have panic attack. They both helped me get me out of sexually abusive relationship and helped me gain the friends i have today. I have great friends that arent toxic and a closer relationship with my mom. I even met my boyfriend because without got7 and bts words i would have never gotten out of my house, get on dating sights, and go to japan. They have helped me immensely when i used to be shut in.”

-@kpopluvwriter

“RM of BTS reminded me that I love writing poetry to express the things I can't tell anyone. TOP of BIGBANG showed me that someone with anxiety issues can still do anything. Most of all, most of the groups I love have given me a community I can trust with more than just Kpop stuff- I feel safe telling fellow Kpop stans that I'm trans and nonbinary because I've seen such a supportive and loving community here.”

-Anon

“Kpop fan culture has taught me that you will always have a friend if you need one. Also that if someone is in distress another WILL come to help. Stray Kids, Bts, Seventeen etc.: have taught me that it’s okay to love myself and that if they love me I should love myself too.”

-@skylarrae168

“Stray kids taught me to never give up no matter how long it's going to take, it's okay to take your time and that no matter what I'm going through everything is going to be okay. Bts taught me that's it's okay to not have a dream and to just do whatever makes me happy and they also taught me how to be myself...like I should be always be myself and that there is nothing 'wrong' with me...if that make sense”

-@paigsa

“Kpop has taught me a lot of things subtly over the past couple years. But the ones I can really pick out are that. It taught me how not to give up on life when things get tough but just step back. It taught me how and when to cut out toxic people from my life. It taught me that I can still do so much despite my mental health and that my mental illnesses don't define me. It's also inspired me to start drawing again after a long bout of art block.”

-@z-stitch

“Kpop as a whole has taught me to be myself, to live more creatively and not to hide anymore.”

-@harmonal

Alot of these brought me to tears and I am so glad you all decided to participate in this and I really appreciate it. Please stick with me for the years to come ♥

[officialthiamlibrary]

Hello! Hello! So excited to share another fantastic creator this time on BTS. Thanks to everyone who’s given this series love and interest. It’s because of you that we keep highlighting the lovely talent in this fandom and today, is no exception. The writer of Compared to the Moon, Six/Seven, and more, parttimehuman, somehow stumbled into our ship and we’re damn happy she’s decided to stay haha. Read on to learn more about her.

Mercy! Ayyy, thanks for letting me besiege you with questions lol. Since the Thiam fandom is quite familiar with one another by now, any facts about you or your life that we’d be surprised to know?

I have a bachelor degree in financial mathematics. (Although I’m not sure how surprising that is.)

That’s wild, mostly because I can’t imagine beasting through an entire degree of math alone. Completely random, but I doubt I’ll have a chance to ask this again. In Shows/Movies, when the characters are in Math class and answering questions on the board, have you ever looked at their solution and thought, “wrong.” I always wondered if those were accurate.

Bold of you to assume that I still know high school math just because I’ve studied the more advanced stuff. Still, it has happened, yeah.

Ahh, touche, touche. Why don’t we actually talk about Teen Wolf and Thiam now lol. How did you find your way to the Thiam fandom? What about them drew you in?

It was a long and not very easy way, to be honest. I think I didn’t get beyond the pilot episode of Teen Wolf until the third try. I had over a month of free time after I graduated from uni, so naturally, I was bored. I finally watched all seasons. Thiam as a ship? Yeah, I’m not going to pretend like it was anything other than Cody Christian’s sexy ass that made that happen. And Theo’s heart-eyes for Liam in 6b of course. I wrote two fics, didn’t mean to stick around for long, and then I was invited to a certain Discord…

What do you think changed between your first time watching and your third?

You want me to be really honest? I had more time, was a little more bored out, had less other options. That’s about it.

Alol nothing but the truth here. Well, now that you’ve fully accepted the TW lifestyle, how would you put your own touches on a Season 7 spin off. What would be your very first scene and very last scene of the pilot episode? As an artist, how would you put your personal touch on those two scenes?

The first scene would be a steamy face-punching/make-out session between Liam and Theo. With proper lighting. Brett would be alive. Liam would look exactly like Dylan Sprayberry does. The last scene would be Theo falling asleep in an actual bed. With Liam’s arms wrapped around him. And forehead kisses. There would be a fist bump somewhere in that episode. And probably a lacrosse game. It would basically be an AU where it never gets dark because we all deserve to see properly after 6 seasons of TW.

“Proper Lighting,” *Slow Clap.* Honestly, we are owed that at this point. As a creator, do you only write Thiam? Any other fandoms or Pairings? Novels or Stories with Original Characters?

No. Actually, I believe these days I write slightly more for other pairings from Teen Wolf. I also have a longfic for another fandom in the works (The Raven Cycle). I will probably write a novel one day, I have quite a collection with abandoned attempts, actually. Apart from that, just like I do in the Thiam pack, I like to write my friends from real life little stories. I guess none of my characters are truly original, strictly speaking, because they’re always either borrowed from a fandom or I insert people I personally know in my stories.

Yessss! Just started the Raven Thieves and it’s my everything. Of all your stories, what’s been your favorite(s) to write or reread thus far?

Compared to the Moon. If I were to make a list here, the 26 chapters of Compared would be the first 26 points on it. After that I’d put My Sister’s Keeper, although it had me crying like a baby. As for smut, I’d say The Hot Cop Showdown, which is about Theo and Liam both turning up at a bachelor party in a police uniform, only that one of them’s an actual police officer, and one’s a stripper. The fun in that was that I wrote it live for a bunch of people who were guessing who was who, and I made my decision completely spontaneously.

Yass let’s definitely talk Compared to the Moon quickly because the worldbuilding is quite intriguing. First, for anyone unfamiliar could you offer a quick summary? How did you come up with what colors corresponds with an emotion? On an average day, what would your color undertone be?

Compared to the Moon is a High School AU where everyone is human, with the little bonus that people show their emotions as colors beneath their skin. While Liam, captain of the lacrosse team, bears a quite prominent red mark in his neck and back and is generally unable to control his colors, Theo, who’s new in school and the lacrosse team, doesn’t have any. They get off on the wrong foot, become roommates, fall in love. There’s a whole lot of drama. And a happy ending, but they do have to work a lot for it.

The idea to that fic came from a drunken conversation with my best friend who doesn’t give a single shit about Teen Wolf or my fics, but the thought had stuck with me. I did a bit of research on the meaning of different colors, but as I continued writing it, I more and more decided to not pay too much attention to that. One of the messages I wanted to convey was to not judge a book by its cover, which, of course, happens a lot in a world where people carry their emotions right under their skin. But the point is that you still never know. What exactly does Liam’s red stand for? Anger? Aggression? Pain? Blood? Or maybe passion? Leadership? Courage? Love?

And what does it mean that Theo doesn’t show them? Is he any less of a human being because of that? Does he not feel?

By the time I got towards the ending of the story, I’d realized that I didn’t want to answer any of these questions. And even if I had wanted to, I couldn’t have.

As for me, I feel like I’d be a little more blue and a little more yellow than I’d be other colors, for reasons I cannot explain.

That’s honestly lovely, especially since each color has a myriad of hues and therefore meanings. Including Compared to the Moon, would you say there’s one trope weaving your stories together?

Probably some form of bed sharing/sleeping together/cuddling. One of them watching the other. Someone who’s usually kept awake by nightmares finally getting some rest. Lazy mornings in bed together. Hand holding. Eskimo kisses. Innocent touches. Just a whole lot of vulnerability and trust and softness.

And I remember reading way back when (like Truth or Chimera haha) days that you write all of your stories by hand. Can you go into your writing process a little? Do you still keep everything you’ve written?

I don’t do that anymore. I write my notes per hand, also sometimes a few lines or ideas, but that’s about it. I’ve published around 600k words in the last year, so at some point I gave it up with the handwriting. I still have all my notes, though, among them the letter Theo wrote to Liam in Compared to the Moon. I’m a notebook hoarder, and I find that there’s a certain aesthetic to handwritten things, but now I mostly just sit in bed with my laptop and a kitty when I write.

Whatttt, live writing!?! How does it feel to write openly like that? Do you think it’s changed the way you create?

I mostly write my smut live. It’s amazing because the people who are following it can throw in their own ideas and make wishes. Many times that’s resulted in me taking a story into directions I wouldn’t have thought of myself. It’s a challenge, because you have to let go of the idea of changing something you’ve already written. Ultimately, I do it because the pressure of people literally waiting for the next sentence gets me to actually sit my ass down and type words.

I think it’s made me more spontaneous and more open to the idea of going into unknown directions. Most of the time, I have no idea what I want to write when I start writing it. But I’ve definitely learned not to stress myself about that. Some of the best things happen while live writing. By the way, almost all of Six and Seven has been written live.

Ok, it’s got to be asked lol. Six and Seven. How?! How do you write such steamy scenes and still retain the essence of the characters. Any writing wisdom to impart for writers who want to improve their smut skills?

This is a tough question, because if I’m being honest, I think the least about what I’m doing when I’m writing smut. I just go with it. I think a few good things to keep in mind are these: Call a dick a dick. Please and thank you. Consent is sexy, safe sex is sexy. There is no such thing as too much lube. Bananas and sex should never be combined. Communication is key. Literally. Dirty talk is the absolute best thing a smut writer can do, if you ask me. Them talking about their likes and preferences? Hot! One of them making the other ask for what they need? Hot! A nickname, a “Sir”, a praise, some begging? Hot, hot, hot, hot.

Other than that, one thing I really want to say here: Forget about who tops and bottoms. That is literally the least important decision to make. It doesn’t even cross my mind when I start writing a story. It also doesn’t have anything to do with who’s the taller or stronger one, or who’s the dominant one, or more experienced. That’s all bullshit.

Apart from that, your kinks are valid. Write the fucking hell out of them, seriously.

Everything. Everything about this is the best. I’m so tempted to say, “Introducing Behind the Screen with parttimehuman!” without the wrap of questions because of how helpful your advice is lol. I suppose, one final random question before we close up: If you were in a Breakfast Club detention situation with five characters from Teen Wolf, who would give you the wildest, most satisfying day. Who would be your teacher? And what’s one thing the six of you would end up doing?

I feel like Liam and Theo would be there, probably because they started punching each other in the middle of class. Stiles seems like the most likely one to have annoyed a teacher into giving him detention. Malia is there for skipping maths too many times. And Isaac. Nobody knows how exactly he ended up there, but everyone’s pretty appreciative of his sarcastic comments. We’d pass the time discussing conspiracy theories about what the hell is wrong with Beacon Hills. Coach Bobby Finstock would let us go early, because remember, Stiles is canonically like a son to him. And Daddy Finstock just can’t say no to his chaotic favorite boy.

Hahaha, Daddy Finstock. Finally, what’s next for you? In life or fandom or both?

In life? If only I knew. I might leave my home town (again) and go to uni (again), but I generally enjoy having no plan.

In fandom? A fucking lot. The Big Bang is getting closer and I am thrilled. I’m working on a whole list of other things, as always. Then there’s a special project that is for now a secret, a couple of awesome people will celebrate their birthdays soon, and Christmas presents are in the works. The Snow White AU will finally break some hearts soon. In case anybody reading this is still waiting for something, I swear that if I made you a promise, then I have it on a sticky note somewhere. Don’t give up on me! Prompts are always welcome (just don’t make me write angst).

And anything else you’d like to share?

If there’s anything I’d like to share, then it’s encouragement. From one introverted fandom lunatic to all the others out there. Never feel weird for loving something. Never feel ashamed of being passionate about what you love. Never let anybody stop you from obsessing over a character, or a ship, or a show, or whatever thing. Write that fic you think nobody will want to read. Draw the thing that’s been in your head forever. Share your love. There are more people out there waiting for exactly that thing to exist than you think. Write that comment, share your obsessions, never feel afraid to reach out. As for the Thiam fandom, some of the kindest people you will ever meet are in there.

My inbox is always open. For anybody.

On a proper cyclical endnote, Behind the Screens presents Mercy to you! You know what I’m going to say: the conversation doesn’t stop here. Meet her at these places:

Main Tumblr: flyde

Inbox/Ask: flyde  ask

AO3: parttimehuman 

Thank you for letting us get to know more about you! And thank you all for reading and requesting her. As always, if you have a Thiam Creator that you fan over, send us their names. Likewise, if you as the creator, would like to be a part of the Behind the Screens series, give us a shout too! We’d love to get to know you, as well.

@flyde

[98aroha97bangtan94]

Sticks and Stones

Pairing: BamBam X reader Genre: Angst/fluff Word count: 1,559 Summary: After you and your boyfriend decide to go public about your relationship you start to see some comments that have you questioning yourself. Are you really the best person for him? (A/N: I used they/them pronouns so anyone could read and it wasn’t strictly female or male, so you can replace them with your pronouns if it makes you feel as if it flows better!)

—-

Hey guys, so I couldn’t sleep last night which apparently makes me want to write a bit of angst. I’m not the best at angst so I hope it’s okay, still has fluff as well! Also first Got7 drabble, yay! ~Mod Phoenix

—-

“Are you positive you want to go public?” JYP asked as he looked between you and BamBam seated beside you. You both had been together for months and have managed to stay under the radar, other than the rest of Got7 and JYP. JYP knew early on and didn’t try to stop the relationship as long as it didn’t become a scandal or come to light quickly.

“Yes, sir,” BamBam responded, “Y/N and I have both thought long and hard about this. We decided now is the best time because we’ve been together for a while and the dating ban was lifted a while ago. We’re done with trying to hide our relationship and I feel like it’s almost like lying to the fans.”

“It’s not lying, it’s for your own safety,” JYP responded sternly before turning his gaze to you, “It is a mutual agreement right? You want it to be public as well? You know the responses some fans will have, right?”

You answered without hesitation, “Yes, it’s mutual and I know how some ahgase’s will react, but I’m ready for it.” ‘I hope..’ You thought.

With a sigh the company founder nodded, “Okay then, I’ll write up the official statement to release to the public. Once that’s out your free to post about each other and make your own statements if you wish.”

The two of you said in unison, “Thank you!” Before getting up and leaving his office.

“I have an hour and a half before I have to practice, so wanna hang out in the dance studio?” Bam asked as he happily grabbed your hand, no longer afraid of who saw.

“Sounds like a plan!” You responded happily. As you made your way to the studio you looked up at your boyfriend and questioned, “When do you think the statement will be released?”

“Probably within the hour since it’s such big news,” He guessed, “Hopefully within the hour so we can post something on my social media together!” His eyes sparkled with excitement as he locked eyes with you. Both of you had dreamed of having a public relationship and now it was finally coming true.

“We can finally do normal couple things, no more hiding!” You beamed, already planning on what you could do together.

You had made your way to the studio and both of you sat on the floor, gently leaning on one another. “You know where I want to take you first?” He asked before answering it in the same breath, “I want to take you to a fancy restaurant, no more dates in the dorm with takeout.”

You giggled at his confession, “That sounds perfect, Bammie. Maybe we could go see a movie together in theaters for once, too.”

He smiled at that, “Sounds like a date!”

You both sat and talked for a while or sat in a comfortable silence. After about forty five minutes he checked his phone and exclaimed, “The official statement was released!”

You quickly looked over his shoulder at the document, the confirmation that you two were officially public. You both hugged each other tightly before he pulled away with the brightest smile you had ever seen, “We have to take a selfie together so I can post about this!”

You laughed as he pulled his camera up, “Why can’t you use one of the hundreds of selfies we already have on your phone?”

“Because it’s our first day officially out to the fans, it needs to be commemorated!” He held his phone up and was still beaming. You smiled as well, holding up a peace sign. He quickly snapped the picture and went to type up the caption for the picture on Instagram. 'Hello ahgase’s, I’m sure you all are surprised by the sudden announcement that just came out. So here we are, this is Y/N! We’ve been together for almost six months and decided now was a good time to tell the public. I hope it’s not too shocking, but I really love them and I hope you support us as well as continue supporting Got7!’

“Annnd, posted!” He declared. He looked at you again and giggled, “I’m so excited, Y/N, I can’t wait for what’s ahead of us.” He kissed your cheek happily with another giddy laugh.

“Me either, it’s going to be amazing,” You giggled and lay your head on his shoulder, watching him post similar stuff on his other social media.

Soon the other boys began to enter, congratulating the both of you and there was plenty of teasing. You stood up and stretched, BamBam following suit.

“I’m gonna head back to my place, text me if you want to do something after your done at practice,” You chimed as you headed towards the door.

“Of course! Text you when we’re done!” He answered excitedly.

When you left you could here the boys teasing Bam, to which you just shook your head and smiled.

~~~

When you returned home you decided to check the buzz on social media you two must have caused. You knew some people would be cruel about it, but you weren’t as ready as you thought you were for these comments. There were so many hateful comments, some were simple and tame compared to others, 'they stole our oppa!’ Others stung a lot more than you thought, 'Who is this ugly bitch? How the hell did they ever get him?’, 'They’re no good for him, he can do way better.’, 'Why would he choose them when he could date anyone he wanted?’ The worst ones were the death threats, there were many comments saying 'If I see them I’ll kill them.’ or 'I hope they get hit by a car.’

You spent a long time reading these comments and they affected you a lot more than you had anticipated. You could feel your chest tighten and tears come to your eyes. You set your phone down and slowly laid down on your couch. The tears came quickly and you found yourself sobbing. Thoughts raced in your head, 'Maybe you’re not good enough for him.’, 'He could do way better.’ 'Why does he like me? I’m just some nobody, really..’ 'Am I no good for him?’ Thoughts like these took over your conscience and you couldn’t escape. You cried and cried, you thought you could handle this, but maybe you were wrong. The next hours were complete silence broken up by bouts of crying.

The black screen of your phone lit up, when you checked it was a text from BamBam, 'Hey babe, just finished practice! Want to do something?’

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, you felt hot tears burn your face again as you ignored the text. Ten minutes later another one followed, 'Hey, you okay? It’s not like you not to respond. I’m going back to the dorm if you want to come over.’ Again you didn’t respond and fifteen minutes later another text, 'Y/N, please answer me. I’m really worried…’ You turned your phone over and sighed, you just couldn’t bring yourself to answer him, you felt like you didn’t deserve to talk to him.

~~~

'Why aren’t they responding, they always answers in a few minutes..’ Bam thought as he helplessly stared at his texts. That’s when he decided to check social media, he was shocked at the hostile comments and knew you had seen them. “Oh no.. No,no..” He muttered to himself and ran to Mark’s room and knocked frantically.

“What?” Mark opened the door, annoyance clear on his face before seeing the young boy so distraught. “What’s wrong?”

“I need you to drive me to Y/N’s place!” He almost yelled out of a mixture of panic and anger.

“Yeah, yeah I can,” the older boy stuttered at the question, “Why?”

To answer he simply held up his phone with the horrible comments and stated, “She’s not responding and I’m guessing she’s read these. I have to make sure she’s okay.”

~~~

You had just stopped crying again when you heard a knock on your door followed by Bam’s panicked voice, “Y/N? Are you in there? Please let me in.”

You didn’t have the energy to get up from the couch, but you did sit up and call, “It’s unlocked, you can come in.” Your voice was strained from crying.

He burst through the door and ran to the couch sitting down beside you, “Why didn’t you respond to my texts? Are you okay? You’ve been crying.” The last sentence wasn’t a question as he looked at your red, puffy eyes and the tears still present on your face.

“Why did you choose me? You could find someone so much better than me, why me? You could date anyone you wanted, models, other idols, actors, but you chose a nobody. Why? Why did you fall for me? I’m nothing special.” You rambled off your thoughts so quickly you were surprised he even caught any of it. You had started to cry again and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at your boyfriend, so you stared at your hands in your lap.

He took your hands in his and gently pleaded, “Look at me. Y/N, please look at me.” When you refused to look up he released one of your hands and lifted your chin to look at his face. His dark eyes were glistening with tears and you could see the hurt on his face. He moved his hand from your face and took ahold of your hand again.

“You want to know why I chose you? Why I fell for you?” He asked before explaining, “I fell for you because you could see the real me, not the me everyone thinks they know. I’m seen as the guy who can’t stop dabbing, the guy who can never be serious, that member of Got7 that’s a walking meme. Nobody ever took me seriously, they saw me as an idol who loved to be goofy. But you were different, you didn’t treat me differently because I was an idol. When we first met you didn’t assume I was this goofy guy, instead you asked about my personal life and learned about the real me. You’re the first person to do that other than my family and the other guys. I don’t want a model, an actor, or an idol- I want you. You’re my rock that grounds me, you’re there for me no matter what, so don’t you dare say you’re a nobody. You can’t say you’re not special either, you’re the most kind, smart, funny, easygoing, and trustworthy person I know. THAT’S why I fell for you, THAT’S why I chose you, THAT’S why I love you,” He squeezed your hands tightly as some tears fell.

You were crying as well and took your hands from his to tightly hug him. He embraced you as you tucked your head in his chest and cried, “I love you too, Bammie. I’m sorry about all of this, it’s just those fans comments got to me…”

“You don’t need to apologize, you’re human and have emotions that will always be valid. And those nasty comments may come from so called 'fans’, but the real fans are the ones who support us, not try and tear us down.”

You nodded as he planted a kiss on top of your head. You looked up at him and mustered a smile, “Thank you.”

“We’ll get through this together,” He stated, returning the smile and squeezing you a bit tighter.

[fmlfpl]

Down the Rabbit Hole with Scott

FPL Cup Night Stalker, Round Two (GW18) Preview

Happy Weekend!  It's FPL Cup Time, Round Two!  

And that means more internet research, cough-cough, stalking.  RESEARCH!  For those of you who tuned in last week (click here for Round One / GW17), I have gone waaay down the rabbit hole of the intertubes with this one and dug up some interesting tidbits on the various FPL managers who our motley crew faced off against last week.

Round One / GW17 Recap

How did we do?  Pretty well, considering that H2H matches can be a random nightmare.  Five of the six of us went through to round two of the FPL Cup.

-- Walsh put up a 65-55 win over some Gooner Maniac Thomas Vermaelen fanboy on the strength of his 16 from Dilva and 9 from Razzers.  He bagged another 11 from the Pope and he moves onward.

-- Alon had a defensive masterpiece with four cleans and max bones to DDG as well as DilvaPoints and points from new friend Son en route to a 69-54 win over some Myanmar Massage Momma

-- Producer Nate, sadly, went down in a low-scoring battle, 38-41, to some Malaysian marketing and social media mogul.  RIP Nate.  It was a rotation/injury nightmare for him with zero minutes from Naughton, Sane, Morata, Ramsey, Kolasinac and Moreno.

-- Guest Jason was up against some Twitter account Gamer person who STILL hasn't made a transaction, and Jason eased to a 58-45 victory with Dilva and DDG as his top scorers.

-- Derek was up against the frightening Bulgarian Monster Energy guy, but Derek unleashed his WC on the dude and strolled to a 70-46 victory.

-- I was up against some dogfood-jerky eating doofus Bieber fan, and it's good that he was inept, because I only managed 45 points on my sixth straight red arrow, but it was enough to put me past his 33 points.

So what's on tap for this week?

Round Two / GW18 Preview (Stalk)

Walsh -- 947 points, 90,568th place

Teynteam -- Paul Tyrrell -- 808 points, 2,325,836th place

Paul is in his second year, and is sorta-Ghost, but not totally.  His last move was in GW15, and he changed his captain for GW16, but did nothing for GW17 and hasn't made a move yet for GW18.  I'm pretty sure it's this guy, who is the official club spokesperson and Director of Communications for the Derby County Football Club.  He previously held a similar title at Everton.  He's in one minileague called the Leicester Tigers Staff FPL, and the Leicester Tigers are a Rugby club, but Paul has been a PR consultant for the Rugby Football League, and one of the guys in the Leicester league tracks back to some time in Derby as well.

It looks like Paul may be sat on Firmino as a cap if he doesn't change anything, and has a less than fearsome front line that also includes Vardy and Abraham.  He does have a solid backline with Azpilicueta, Otamendi and Alonso, but the midfields pretty much neutralize each other and are near identical.  Walsh will have the edge with an extra Chelsea defender this week and with the Pope in goal.

Alon -- 928 points, 184,894th place

CAT-D F.C. -- Mike Weil -- 902 points, 420,315th place

Mike is an FPL veteran, in his eighth season, but hasn't yet cracked the top 300K mark.  He hasn't made a roster move yet for this week.  He splunked his triple captain chip back in GW8 on Sir Harold of Blank, when Spurs were hosting Bournemouth.  3x2=6.  Bleh for him.  Here he is on Facebook, married and with a little kid.  His page says he went to secondary school at the Tytherington School, in Macclesfield, and he is in one minileague, the Banter Battle, and there are FB friends in the same league.  I'm not quite sure what he does for a living, but most of his friends on FB seem to be in the Macclesfield/Manchester area.  Might have a clue though in his team name.  Cat-D, or Category D, is a term regarding an insurance write-off of an automobile after repairs.  When a car is totaled and written off in an accident, the insurance company then owns the car, makes repairs, and it is a Category D vehicle.  One of his friends is a manager/supervisor at an auto body shop in Salford, near Manchester and they offer a large selection of category D vehicles for sale.  I think our boy Mike works there.  That's what I'm sticking with.

As for his FPL team?  It's kinda crap with a front line of Jesus, Lacazette and Rondon.  He has Salah and Dilva for points but also has Willian, Matic and Romeu in the midfield, bleh.  He'll be hoping Rudiger makes the lineup and looking forward to return of Mee to his defense.  The DDG factor will be neutralized as both teams own him.

Guest Jason -- 933 points, 155,496th place

Once a Blue.... -- Corrinne Charlton -- 815 points, 2,154,156 points

Corrinne finished 416K last year in her first season, and is an Everton fan from England but she hasn't changed her team since GW8.  It's been strictly set and forget and there is a Kane captain coming Jason's way.  The rest of her front line is Lukaku and Calvert-Lewin and the midfield sports Salah, Eriksen, Richarlison McArthur and Capoue.  The only leagues she is in are a couple of pretty big ones.  150 for the standard league and over 100 in a H2H league.  They are both named DACBC something, but not sure what that stands for and I'm not getting anywhere with it.  Dead end.  Uggh.  Oh well, when in doubt, it's time to make something up.

The first thing that I could find that DACBC stood for was Dual AC Boosting Compensation scheme and deals with multistage amplifiers with low power and large capacitive load.  I'm sure that means something to somebody, and maybe this league is composed of those who are in the know.  But then it got really weird.  Only look here if you are totally insane.  And then I also kept coming across these guys, the Companhia Brasileira de Cartuchos, one of the largest ammunition manufacturers in the world.  So she's either an electrical engineering wizard, an insane numerologist, or a Brazilian assassin mercenary.  Watch out Jason.   Just eliminate her before she does something dangerous.

Derek -- 979 points, 19,887th place

The Invincibles -- Peter Eddy -- 918 points, 261,178th place

Peter is also an FPL veteran, in his tenth season.  He claims Arsenal and Canada allegiances and played his free hit chip, but nothing else yet.  His highest season rank was three years ago when he clocked in at 2,114 OR at the end of the year.  This is an interesting one, where one of the hits from a minileague seems intriguing and then you get the flavor of the whole league.  His minileague, The Hooliganship seems to be largely made up of people in the curling community of Canada and has several people who have competed at national and international tournaments.  One of them was a silver medalist in the Nagano Olympics.  The Eddy family includes Lori, who isn't in this league, as well as Steve, who leads the league and appears to have been fairly successful, and our opponent Peter, who I'm assuming is this guy who shows up in the page on the 1998 Canadian Junior Curling Championships.  But since he probably has to keep a day job, he might be this guy.

Anyway, he has a Kane, Firmino, Abraham front line and runs a 352 most weeks with a midfield of KDB, Cout, Richarlison, Grob and RLC.  Derek will counter most of that and put his Salah, Hazard and Dilva up against Peter's Cout, Richarlison and Grob.  I'll take Derek in that every day.  Stick to curling, Peter.

Desertonians -- Scott Ostdiek (ME) -- 964 points, 41,994th place

Champions 2016/17 -- Mark Nicholson -- 862 points, 1,066,791st place

Mark has played for nine years now and is still waiting to crack the top 100K.  He's in two leagues, one is the SJL Insurance Cup and they are an insurance brokerage based in Worcester.  I find faceshots and pages for a bunch of the leaguemates there, but this guy isn't upper echelon enough to warrant a page, it seems.  His other league also seems to have a number of people in the insurance industry in it, but ugggghhh, this guy seems just a wee bit out of reach.  So in a touch of holiday good spirit, I'm going to go with this guy, a Mark Nicholson in Worcester UK who is a self-employed tree surgeon but who was out-of-work when he was undertaking this bit of civic improvement.

He's kinda gone Ghost the last five weeks though, with no transactions, and no roster moves, so I'll be seeing a Captain Kane, along with Vardy and Rashford up top, and a midfield with Alli, Eriksen, Sterling, and Livermore.  I think it looks favorable, but I've been in a serious rut, so no guarantees of anything.

Well, that's our trip down the rabbit hole this week.  Hope we all come out safely on the other side and I get a new box of puzzles to unlock for the next round.

Good luck! - Scott AKA @tempebug on twitter aka desertbug on Slack