#it was open for a brief moment and thats when i fucking STRIKE.

[blizzardz]

I JUST REMEMBERED THE CANON AHIT URL I'M HOARDING LMMAAOOOO

[olichat-reads]

Mrow Snippets | Creampuff

Bakugou x roomate cat!reader

Summary: you're getting a little tired of cat food and when the opportunity to get a taste of your favourite dessert arises, you strike.

A/n: more mrow content! i have some unused drafts that i didn't get to use in the main plot so why not put them to good use still with SNIPPETS :)) more cat dad bakugou content in the world!

🌟

"Sunny. Sunny, no."

Bakugou had only shut the front door, having just herd his flock of friends out from their weekly hangout.

Now, here he was glaring at a furry little gremlin- namely you, caught like a deer in headlights from where you were perched on the kitchen counter.

You held your body perfectly still the moment he laid those narrowed accusatory red eyes on you- as if he'd forget you existed if you didn't move too obviously, you thought, creeping a single paw forward, painfully slowly.

"Sunny. I can see you," he scoffed in disbelief as if he heard your thoughts. "Step away from the box."

Yeah, no such luck.

You stared right back at him with huge eyes- putting as much faux innocence into them as if you weren't a step away from the open box of creampuffs on the counter.

Neither of you moved.

The air was tense & still. You didn't even blink as you held unwavering eye contact with the blonde standing over you.

"Sunny-" he took a careful step forward & you pounced; grabbing a creampuff between your teeth & fucking ran.

"SUNNY, NO!"

SUNNY, YES! You all but cackled in victory as you sprinted around the corner, your little body allowing you to dodge Bakugou's grasp much easier than had you been human.

"Sunny that isn't for cats!"

Well jokes on you- I'm not a cat! You shrieked in delight as you slipped under the couch with practiced ease after all the time you've wriggled yourself into the small space to sulk after petty arguments with your roomate.

Even with you as a cat, the two of you easily fell into your usual dynamic of squabbling like an old married couple. Only being able to communicate with meows & chirps will not stop you from sassing the grumpy blonde & he doesn't hold back on the sarcasm & snappy remarks either.

Both of you essentially drove each other mad.

It was a good time.

Speaking of a good time, you siddled up in a safe corner at the very back of the couch, out of reach from a certain blonde and murped in triumph one last time before you took the biggest bite out of the pastry in your grasp, mewling in pure happiness at the taste flooding your tastebuds. God, you missed people food.

Your joy did not last long though- your stupidly jacked pro hero of a roomate having absolutely no difficulty lifting the fucking couch with one hand, the other swiping you from your sanctuary, making you squeak in surprise, holding onto your beloved creampuff for dear life.

No!

You held on tight, squishing the cream out of the pastry shell and into your fur, making Bakugou grimace at the mess but you didn't care. How could you when your roomate was about to seperate you from the tasty love of your life?!

No! You all but wailed in despair as Bakugou extracted the rest of the creampuff from your clutches.

The blashemy! The unjust! The-

Your dramatic yowling was cut off when Bakugou dropped you onto the sofa unceremoniously. You were all but ready to throw a tantrum over being ripped away from the source of your brief but great joy, only to be interrupted again, this time by a wet cloth dropped smack to your face.

You did that on purpose! You screeched, scandalized, tail bristling into an angry poof even more when that handsome jerk had the audacity to laugh at you-

"Calm down, brat. Just cleaning your face," Bakugou chuckled under his breath, gently wiping the cream of off the fur of your pouting face. Or if cats could pout.

You barely had a chance to get a word of complain out before a large finger swiped a dollop of cream onto your nose. You almost went cross eyed as you stared at the cloud of white in confusion.

"Thats all you're getting, brat. Don't want you getting sick."

Oh.

You had to huff out a laugh at that.

You're getting soft, Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamight you mused, licking the cream off your nose, purring like a little motorboat at the taste.

Ah. Oh, well. Gotta love your cat dad Bakugou.

🌟

A/n: ohhhhhh i really wasn't sure what to do with the taglist so i'm keeping it for now BUT PLEASE DO TELL ME IF YOU WANT OUT! maybe i'll do another poll if the majority of you want out we'll seee

Series taglist: @deadpoolsvodka @zbeez-outlet @fixed211 @arael-asuka @sadcookie365 @phrogfungi @trash-heichou-kacchan @sad0ni0n @woodzonesworld @mushi42 @yappydoo @kazxtora @nnubee @chuugarettes @voidsatoru @freakyundercover @momdisappointment @simp4rengoku @yaskna @zane2408 @lynn-writes-things @dinodumbass @jihyuniepark @julietdelamare @captainchrisstan @atrainb @wannabewolf @cupidcole @atsushiki @trashbin-nie @mothmanuwu @skyesayshi @nezykoi @theredtater06 @lanaxians-2 @alextheknight707 @vollkornpraline @misakik28 @carnationhcs @some-ryvant @blubearxy @dangerousluv1 @seokjin-bby @slytherclaw1227 @tjmaxx556 @kuleo26 @answer-the-sirens @stxrrielle @call-me-drartemis @ouch-thats-harsh @coodoritoss @thychuvaluswife @dynakats @naneko-nakooooo @letharue @sleepylittlebarista @moonbinnie0983 @ninashellhole @lovra974 @i-cant-write-for-shit

[foxboyclit]

hate (that i need) you

a short Chen/Ang'dra piece thats been sitting in my drafts for a while. tws: violence, stabbing, codependency, general abusive relationship themes

Ang’dra shoves the door to the apartment open with enough careless force to put stress on the hinges and announce her presence with a loud thud. It’s carried on by her heavy-and undoubtedly filthy-boots stomping against the stone floor. Chena’stra watches as she rifles through the small pantry, paying no mind to the organization because why would she. 

Chena’stra watches her trod to the living room, slump into a seat, loosen her belt and smack on her dried jerky. She clears the disgust from her throat.

“Nice to see you’re home.” 

Ang’dra offers a brief glance her way, a gross generosity on her end. The foolishness she feels for expecting anything more kindles her irritation. She pauses, lets the smoke pour into the room in the hopes it’ll choke out a response. It doesn’t.

“If you want to barge into my home and make a mess of it, the least I request is a greeting.”

That gets the other drow to hold her stare. 

“So it’s your home now?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Chena’stra tilts her head. “You’re away from dawn till midnight, when you are here you can’t be bothered to do any chore, all you do is raid my cabinets and  make a mess of every room. I’m the only thing living here.”

“Really? ‘Cause here I am, in your seat wasting time on this constant bitching. What else can I do, sweet pea?”

The pet name is nothing more than a stoker, more of a sneer than sincerity. Ang’dra knows this, knows what it does to Chena’stra’s temper. Being aware of the game does nothing to release her from it.

“Call me that one more time, and I’ll gut you.” Her threat is cast aside with a bitter laugh.

“You’ll find no relief from it.” 

“You really think so.”

“I do. You could stab me, leave me to bleed out, have more shit to clean up, and it’ll still be your tomb, sweet pea.” And there it is, that stupid grin of hers, that damned smirk that reeks of arrogance, that defiant glint in her single eye. Chena’stra feels heat spreading to her ears.

She lunges, grabbing onto Ang’dra tight to avoid being shaken off. The two roll across the floor before she wrestles her way on top of the larger drow, and puts that trusty hidden knife to use in her bicep.

“Vith! You cheating bastard!”  Chena’stra doesn’t have time to revel in her curses before she’s met with a knee to the gut. The strike sends her doubling over, and is easily pushed off. From her position on the cold stone floors, she hears a hiss and then, the clatter of her stiletto accompanying her in defeat. Her attempt to rise earns her a kick to the ribs, and over her own pained cry is the sound of heavy boots.

Then the slam of a door.

Then silence. 

She lay there, the physical pain making way for a sharp pang inside as she looked up to see Ang’dra gone.

Fuck.  She’d complain so much about being left in an empty apartment, and in the brief moment of Ang’dra being home she’d manage to drive her away. How could she be so stupid? If Ang’dra didn’t push, had restrained her before the knife plunged in, hadn’t worn that Abyss-damned smile on her face, she would still be here. 

She called for Ang’dra until her voice broke, begs coupled with names that’d make the most viscous matron recoil. Her shout fell into a sob as she realized there was nothing to answer her.

That houseless bitch knew, she had to, that the lingering pain would come from no wound, the fear that sent her heart stuttering wouldn’t be aroused by her voice. It was her absence that brought upon Chena’stra’s destruction. Slowly, she picked herself off the floor, subdued the tears reserved for a lost child, and stared at the door.

If she wanted to play this game, so be it. Ang’dra was a familiar beast, and she knew all the ways to summon her.

[sorikkung]

what goes on in neverland. ⇝ ch. 3: conversations, conversations, camboys?

word count: 9.8k

pairings: transmasc!reader x Everyone, everyone x everyone (its literally too convoluted for me to try type them out here anymore just see the masterlist for full pairings LOL)

genre: fluff, smut and lots of assorted shenanigans. hijinks, if you will

au: battle of the bands!au but make it gay and horny

warnings: adults talking abt their feelings, mutual masturbation, camming, bondage, remote controlled toys, edging, ruined orgasms, boys crying, cum swallowing but its realistic

a/n: the jump between me taking half a year to update to months to two within the same months??? progress is real guys. anyway we're finally delving into another pov this chapter how exciting!! a lot goin on, a lot of set up here i hope you guys are as excited as i am for what it leads to 🤭

please reblog and leave feedback if you enjoyed, it’s what keeps us writers going :’) (for every comment i get i open up a wip and write a few sentences. thats not bribery but literally just how motivating it is.)

tags: @honeybyunnies @syunderful @absentcaryatid @mingirn (lmk if you want to be added/removed!)

prev | masterlist | next

>you: i got some mad fucking tea to spill are you ready

>mingi’s bitch: omg bet come over

>you: aight @energeric where r u

>you: ???

Figuring you’d just meet him at the couple’s apartment, you slip some shoes on and grab your keys from the hooks in your doorway to leave, only to find the very man you were pinging grabbing his to do the same.

“Oh, did you see the texts then?” you ask, figuring he’d be going too, but then it strikes you that he probably would’ve started pestering you for details already before you even made it to their apartment.

“No, I’m– I’m heading out. Gonna hit the gym with a buddy.” He pauses mid-way through slipping on his shoes and tying the laces to look up at you. “What happened? Dude, your cheek is bruising, are you becoming the same kinda painslut as Wooyoung is or did you get into a fight?”

“Got clocked in the face by Changbin at the food court with Wooyo today, but it’s what his boyfriend texted me afterward that I’m gonna go discuss with him– you should come, the tea is piping hot.”

He shakes his head, hastily finishing tying off his laces and getting up. “Nah, I don’t wanna leave my friend waiting, he’s already there. If you can’t brief it in a maximum of maybe four and a half sentences, it’s gotta wait.”

You snort. “What the fuck is half a sentence meant to look like?”

“And you just used one. Three and a half, go.”

“Changbin’s boyfriend is hot and Felix is still definitely in love with you.”

For a moment, Eric doesn’t say anything at all. He just stares at you, unblinking, and you expect his eyes to widen or his brows to raise or show any inkling of surprise after a few seconds, but he doesn’t. For once you can’t read the dark clouds in his eyes, though you know he’s definitely having some sort of emotional reaction to the news, but he simply turns to grab his keys as if you didn’t say a thing.

“Cool.”

“Cool?” It stumps you, how normal he’s acting when you’re positive he’s feeling anything but. He’s a man who wears his heart on his sleeve and doesn’t hide how he feels, so the way he’s been acting in regards to Felix raises a few questions. Granted, you didn’t expect him to go running back to him – or maybe you did, just partially – but you certainly expected more than that. “That’s it? I thought you still liked him.”

He sighs deeply through his mouth and twirls his keys around his finger idly while standing in the doorway. “Why would I? Yes, I still like him. Maybe a part of me always will. But he’s the one who broke up with me because he didn’t have time for me. Now I see where that time went, and frankly, I don’t think I have time for him either. I too would rather focus on the people I care about. I don’t care if he still loves me. If he really, truly did, as much as I loved him? He’d do a better job at showing it.”

“That’s… fair,” you sound out slowly, nodding. It makes perfect sense, and in hindsight if he’d jumped at the opportunity first you might have even warned him for being too hasty for that very reason. “Don’t worry, he’ll see what he’s missing. We’ll wipe the floor with him and all of his friends.”

Eric gives you a nod and a half smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, then bids you goodbye and heads off. How abrupt, you think. You’ll probably come back to that one later.

There are many benefits to dating Jung Wooyoung, Mingi finds. One of them is that it can never really get boring. Everything about Wooyoung is exciting, and he tries to share that with Mingi as much as possible, whether that be spicing up what they try out in the bedroom or taking him on all sorts of wild adventures for dates, or just always having something going on exciting enough to talk about even on their lazy days.

Today is no exception; he sits on their couch in just his sweatpants, while Wooyoung lies draped across his lap in only his t-shirt. Not his own, but Mingi’s, naturally, and he’s already accepted he won’t get it back until it stops smelling like him. When today’s excitement – you, of course – strolls in and gives them a knowing look, he shakes his head before even greeting you.

“We weren’t fucking this time. Though if you took any longer we might’ve!”

It certainly wouldn’t be the first time you’ve walked in on them in more provocative positions, if that were the case – most times these days, they don’t bother to stop at the interruption, and more often than not you’re quick to join in on the fun anyway. It’s not unheard of, however, for you – or any of the other band members, for that matter – to pass on joining in and merely scroll on their phone or read a book or snack while in the very same room as the deed is being done, but nobody really minds. It’s just a thing that happens, at this point, just as normal as eating or playing video games. You all prefer it that way.

Hell, Mingi is a huge fan of the concept. It didn’t take Wooyoung very long to figure out how much he enjoys showing off, so as soon as his days of being a little shyer and more self-conscious fell behind him in favour of his newfound confidence in his sex appeal and comfort with the band, he became quite the tease when he has an audience. Perhaps that’s why he was all too keen to let Wooyoung drag him down the corridor Changbin went down at the battle of the bands and start making out with him on the spot, knowing – no, even better, hoping – the other man would be watching.

“Without me? How cruel.” You’re quick to join them on the couch, cuddling into Mingi’s side and allowing Wooyoung to sprawl across your lap as well. They both silently appreciate how you fit so easily into their lives as to not even need so much as a greeting when you arrive at their apartment. It’s your home as much as theirs, probably helped by how the whole band lives in the same apartment complex, albeit different floors. At this point, you might as well all be roommates. “Though I suppose I’ll be the crueller one, considering I’m gonna be having a threesome with Changbin and his hot boyfriend and you’re not invited.”

“What?!” Wooyoung jolts up off your laps, staring at you like you just grew a second head. “Why the fuck not? After I sucked the soul out of him that one time? Damn, he has no idea what he’s missing, I’ve only gotten better since.”

“Actually, he kinda does,” you chuckle, taking his place across his and Mingi’s laps so you can cheerily grin up at him and poke your tongue out. “Little birdy told me it was, to this day, the best head he’s ever had. Not that he’d ever admit it.”

“Wait a second, who was the little birdy? Changbin or Minho?” Mingi asks, idly tapping his fingers on your back while the gears turn in his head. Truly, excitement follows Wooyoung wherever he goes — he doesn’t even need to try.

“Minho. We’re Instagram mutuals now, apparently. He had soooo much juicy tea for me. Like how the reason Changbin is gonna deny all your advances is because he’s been in love with you since high school but doesn’t wanna admit it, even to himself.”

Wooyoung freezes, and Mingi freezes at Wooyoung freezing. Mingi doesn’t know the full details of Wooyoung and Changbin’s history beyond being best friends in high school with another friend who went back to Korea — Yeonjun, Mingi thinks his name was — and that the three of them helped each other experiment and realise that they all liked boys. It sounded very casual, and Mingi figured that makes sense; Wooyoung was one of the key players in opening the band up with each other more physically, and, by extension, his relationship with Mingi. Wooyoung is just the kinda guy who likes being physically and sexually affectionate with his friends, and that didn’t bother him. Not when he enjoyed it almost just as much. In many ways, Wooyoung was the reason Mingi could come so far outside his shell. He’d forever be grateful to him for that.

It takes Wooyoung a good, long moment to remember to breathe again before he bursts out laughing, loud and wide and unfiltered in all the ways Mingi just can’t help but fall for. He isn’t sure what is so inherently hilarious about Changbin’s feelings for him, but he doesn’t realise he’s grinning goofily until you give him a very particular smirk that he’s awfully familiar with. The ‘You’re so damn whipped it’s written all over your face’ smirk. But who in their right mind can blame him? At least, that’s what he thinks to himself while his lover takes a moment to recover.

“No way,” he says at last, “Changbin? In love with me after all these years? Oh, that’s rich. You don’t think- you don’t think that’s the real reason they joined the battle of the bands, is it? To see me again?”

“You and your massive ego,” Mingi huffs, nudging him in the shoulder. “I mean, possibly? I feel like it’s more likely that they’re tryna suck JYP’s dick. But that and Felix possibly holding some resentment for Eric and doing it out of spite might be part of it too.”

“Nah, Felix doesn’t resent Eric,” you inform him, “He’s still in love with him. Did Wooyoung not fill you in? That’s why Changbin was all like, ‘just because Felix still likes Eric doesn’t mean you can use him like that!’ It’s kinda the whole reason I got clocked in the face, which was lucky for your boyfriend’s pretty face because if I wasn’t there, it would’ve been him.”

“He didn’t really fill me in, no,” Mingi pouts, shouldering him again, but Wooyoung only scoffs and shoulders him back. “He was too busy telling me all about how hot Changbin was in a fitted t-shirt and how you went flying across a table to really elaborate on the why. Also how hot that Minho guy is and how he seemed down for the double date, so I’m wondering why all of a sudden we’re not invited to the gangbang!”

“Pfft. It’s- Just read the texts.” You unlock your phone and shove it in his hands to save yourself more explaining. Wooyoung snatches it from you before Mingi can grab it, so he simply leans over his shoulder to read without further complaint.

>lino.ooo: i wish he’d understand that being attracted to other people doesn’t mean i love him any less

>lino.ooo: but him accepting that would mean accepting he has feelings for people who aren’t me either 🤭

Mingi reads this and his first instinct is to look at Wooyoung’s face. Wooyoung, eyes adorably wide and almost trying to shove his face into the screen with how invested into these texts he is. The puzzle starts to piece itself together in Mingi’s brain, sneaking suspicions he hasn’t accepted enough to address yet, but he can’t help but feel for Minho’s situation.

>lino.ooo: but i’ve been dating him for a couple years now, and i’ve been his friend even longer, i know the signs. i know what he looks like when hes in love with someone, because he’s like that with me, too

That makes him look at Wooyoung once again, analysing every detail on his stupidly perfect face, and that’s when it really clicks. Mingi feels for Minho because it’s too easy for him to imagine himself in similar shoes – possibly because he’s already standing in them. And possibly has been for a long time now.

He thinks back to how their open relationship all started; how you and Sunwoo had been best friends with benefits since your last year of high school before you dropped out and ran away without him, anyway, and Eric since not long after, jokingly justifying your relationship with there being ‘nothing wrong with kissing the homies goodnight.’ It was an inside joke at first, one followed by obnoxious PDA between your trio or Mingi and Wooyoung calling themselves ‘totally platonic homies’ despite having been dating for a while, but somewhere down the line you had all started actually giving each other goodnight kisses.

He thinks about San, who used to blush such a pretty pink at the gesture, and how he couldn’t help himself turning a chaste peck on the lips to a kiss that lingered, hands that wandered – next thing he knows, Wooyoung is running to him saying he fucked up, genuine fear in his eyes, quick to confess how his goodnight kiss with San escalated to making out against a wall and how it all happened so fast and he stopped it as soon as she realised he was enjoying it too much for a goodnight kiss and ran to Mingi first thing to come clean. He had apologised so vehemently that day, like he was really, truly scared he would lose his lover for such a careless mistake; Mingi then wonders how much of that fear lies beyond the simple kiss.

How much of it was the feelings San made him feel that scared him so.

He decides to keep these thoughts to himself for the time being. After all, maybe he’s simply overthinking again, comparing himself to the other rapper now that he’s come and changed up the scene. Wooyoung has a type, it seems. Thick lips, broad shoulders, reckless confidence, and spits fire on the mic. He wonders how long it’ll be before he inevitably falls for Sunwoo, too. He fits the type to a T. Maybe he already has, actually, he isn’t too sure – but he’s far surer that the way he looks at you, San and Changbin, isn’t the way people usually look at their platonic friends. Or their former friends who they haven’t seen in years and desperately want to get in the pants of and show off to.

Mingi remains quiet.

“Well, I think our next plan of attack is rather obvious,” Wooyoung hums, barely concealing his excitement. However, neither you nor Mingi seem to follow, so you wait for him to realise and elaborate. “Like… if he doesn’t even realise he’s in love with me, we gotta make sure he does.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?” Mingi ponders aloud, raising an inquisitive eye at Wooyoung. He stares back at him.

“Exactly what it sounds like? We need to make Changbin realise he’s in love with me whether he likes it or not. Like, he’s in love with me, that’s so exciting? This whole time? I was literally his gay awakening, I gotta remind him how he got to this point in the first place.” Wooyoung states it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but Mingi simply blinks, then cuts you off before you can say anything.

“Why?”

That renders both of you silent, and it’s only then when Wooyoung and you seem to finally notice the seriousness of Mingi’s expression, the atmosphere sobering up so quickly it gives him whiplash.

“B-Because… come on, it’ll be fun! What’re you looking so serious for, I'm not the one in love with him! I think I just get a sick sense of satisfaction from it. Plus, he’s hot, you’ve already agreed with me that much, do you not want to make him squirm a little?”

Mingi only frowns harder. It’s true, they already discussed bringing Changbin and even Minho into the bedroom if the opportunity presented itself, but this wasn’t quite the opportunity he was thinking about. If Wooyoung sleeps with someone who he knows likes him like that, wouldn’t that be more than just a casual fling? Why would he want to engage when he knows feelings are involved already? Mingi thinks he knows the answer.

It begs the question, considering when it was brought up they never defined what ‘messing with’ other people implied. Mingi figured they were on the same page in it meaning just having sex or touching or kissing, but now he wonders if he missed something. “How far does our ethical non-monogamy go?”

“What are you–“

“Wooyoung, you’re really excited to hear that your old best friend likes you like that… what’s so exciting about it? You have me already.”

“What? I’m not excited, I just–” Wooyoung flounders at the accusation, bumping you out of the way so he can crawl half on top of Mingi, so he sees just how serious he is. Like the physical closeness would bridge the gap slowly forming. “Jagiya, that’s not what this is at all. I haven’t felt like that about Changbin since I was like, seventeen–“

“So you admit you did once have feelings for him, then?”

“Woah, woah! What is with that accusatory tone? Mingi, I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours, only yours.” He grabs both of his boyfriend’s hands in his, clasping them tightly while he looks in his eyes, wavering. It’s almost uncomfortable to watch. “There’s no competition. Whatever feelings I had for him back then are long gone now, it’s really just a sex thing, like we have with the band, that’s all it is! You know you’re the only one for me, you know I wasn’t even interested in settling down before you, that’s how much you mean to me. I’m yours, first and foremost, no one else’s. However else I get my dick wet doesn’t matter, it– it doesn’t change that. What we have is so much more than that.”

It’s definitely uncomfortable for you to watch now, evident in the way you try to awkwardly shuffle away from them. If Wooyoung notices anything off he doesn’t mention it, gazing almost unblinkingly into Mingi’s eyes in hopes it’ll make him feel his sincerity, but the only sincerity Mingi feels in that moment is Wooyoung’s sincerity to himself. Like he’s trying to convince himself of this just as much as him.

He can’t just tell him that, though. Who is he to tell his boyfriend which of his feelings are real or not? Who is he to say he’s deluding himself? That would be borderline gaslighting if he did, but he can’t ignore the signs that are becoming increasingly obvious the longer he stews on them. He speaks in Korean next in hopes that you won’t catch the meaning of his words.

“Your ears go red when you lie, Wooyoung.”

His mouth opens to say something, then shuts, then again, soundlessly appearing almost like a gaping fish. You don’t stay to hear more, quickly and wordlessly grabbing your phone back from where it had fallen to the couch in Wooyoung’s surprise and trying to make as little noise as possible on your way out to not disturb them. Mingi doesn’t blame you; all of a sudden the air in the room feels awfully stuffy and borderline suffocating, but he has to face this head-on, or else Wooyoung will be lightly dancing around the topic until it escalates.

“I’m not lying,” Wooyoung mumbles, his voice small and caught in his throat. “Is that really what you think I’m like?”

“I– Look, Wooyoung, I’m not going to tell you how you do or don’t feel, I just… Minho’s texts felt kind of relatable when he was talking about how he noticed how his boyfriend looks at other men because he knows what his in love look, looks like. I saw the way you look at Changbin and it just… reminded me of that. But I also see the way you look at them, too,” he gestures towards the door where you just made your escape, “and San. Honestly, I can argue for all of the band, but those two in particular, you look at them the exact same way you look at me. And I just… don’t know what I’m supposed to do about that. How I’m supposed to feel about that.”

Wooyoung shakes his head slowly, almost in disbelief. “There’s nothing to feel about. I meant what I said–“

It’s the denial that gets him. Maybe it wouldn’t sting so much if he just came clean and confessed it, admitted to feeling things for other people, and maybe they could talk about it and what it meant for their relationship, but if he can’t realise it himself they won’t get anywhere. And the more he tries to deny it, the more he digs himself into a hole that only highlights Mingi’s very suspicions.

“No you didn’t. Is that really all the band is to you? Just another way to get your dick wet?”

He pauses, settling back down on his legs as the weight of his words finally sink in. “No, I… of course they’re more than that, they’re... I probably shouldn’t’ve said that in front of him, I’ll– I’ll have to apologise to him later.”

Mingi nods. “Yeah, you should. Like, aren’t we constantly going on about how platonic love is just as meaningful as romantic love? Isn’t that why we’re as close with the band as we are? Saying that what we have is so much more than that just because its romantic is so diminishing. That’s how I know you don’t mean it – you don’t believe that, do you? That’s against everything we both believe in.”

“Well, yes, but–“ he gnaws on the inside of his cheek, trying to formulate a response. “I guess I panicked? I just don’t want you thinking after all we’ve been through together that I’m gonna be into Changbin now all of a sudden just because he likes me. As far as romantic love goes, I just want you. I don’t want anything to change that, to change what we have.”

“We don’t have to change anything,” Mingi reminds him calmly, hands smoothing over the smaller man’s thighs in a soothing motion. “I just want you to be honest with me, and honest with yourself. I won’t be mad at you if you like other people because I know you love me, I just… want you to be able to tell me. To trust me.”

Wooyoung nods silently, slowly at first, then frantically. “I-I will. I’m sorry, Mingi.”

“What are you apologising for?”

“I–“ He falls flat. “I don’t know.”

“Then don’t apologise,” Mingi reassures him with the faintest of smiles, cupping his face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. “Well, maybe do apologise, just not to me. I apologise for putting you on the spot like that.”

Wooyoung chases his lips after the first kiss, hands slipping around the back of his neck and pulling him in, kissing him deeply and sending tingles down Mingi’s spine. They’re both just so handsy, grabbing at whatever they can reach, Wooyoung drawing closer into Mingi’s lap to close the distance between them, so they can hold each other while they kiss like this. Mingi is honestly content to simply kiss him like that for hours on end, but Wooyoung seems to have other plans as their kisses grow hotter and their hands wander further, teeth digging into lips and nails digging into skin.

When he breaks apart, it’s to slip down Mingi’s lap and onto the floor on his knees, spreading Mingi’s legs apart and reaching for the band of his sweatpants. On his knees for him in nothing but his shirt, Mingi knows he’ll never not be affected by such a sight – if it isn’t old by now it probably never will be, and Mingi finds comfort in that. He likes knowing his boyfriend has him wrapped around his pinkie finger, and that he’ll never fail to drive him wild. It’s safe, secure, how his heart beats for him.

“Let me show you exactly how much you mean to me,” Wooyoung murmurs, low and sultry, but it has the opposite of the intended effect. Mingi tenses up, grabbing both of Wooyoung’s wrists on instinct, then pushes them away from him. The flash of distress on Wooyoung’s face doesn’t slide past him, but he doesn’t have it in him to feel too guilty about it.

“Wooyoung,” he breathes out, not letting go of his wrists. “How is this any different? How is having sex with me proving how much I mean to you when you just said all your relationships with other men are just about sex? What kind of message are you giving me with this?”

How Mingi’s heart beats for Wooyoung is safe. He knows that no matter what happens, that will never change – it will always beat for him. That much he is sure of.

Whether Wooyoung is the same, however, he is not.

His mistake seems to crash down on him all at once, and he slips his hands free and back to his sides as he scrambles to his feet in panic. “No, no, I didn’t mean–“

“Just… stop,” Mingi sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s tired. He doesn’t want to wrestle with – whatever this is that they’re wrestling with – any longer. “I don’t wanna go in circles again, can we just… cuddle?”

Wooyoung is eager to oblige, grabbing a throw blanket off the couch and curling up to Mingi’s side with a quickness he only ever really sees from him on-stage, but he's visibly relieved at the change of topic though guilt still lingers on his features. Mingi turns on the tv; white noise at this point, to leave him alone with his thoughts. Well, not too alone, with Wooyoung in his arms, but he likes it that way. Maybe a small part of him fears that if he lets go, he’ll lose him – but mostly, he just enjoys having him close, even when they’re not the happiest with each other. They’ll get through this.

He leans his head atop the crown of his lover’s, not before pressing a quick kiss to the top. Wooyoung buries his face in his shoulder, returning the kiss to his bare skin, and in that moment, that is all Mingi needs.

That’s enough excitement for one day.

It’s only when you finally get back to your apartment and shut the door behind you do you finally feel like you can breathe again, far away from the stuffiness of the couple’s apartment and the thick tension between them as they fought right in front of you. Not the first time they had done so, and you are usually comfortable enough in their home to just scroll on your phone on their couch until they’re done, but you’re not sure you’ve witnessed a fight quite so personal between them before. Besides, it’s not like you had anything planned for staying longer, so it felt easier to get out of there as soon as you can rather than wait it out as a spectator and hope they’d feel up to sex or video games or going for a cheeky fast-food run in the aftermath.

Sunwoo is sprawled across the couch when you arrive, and he raises his eyebrow at you over his shoulder when he notices the loud exhale at finally arriving home.

“What, did your gossip sesh with Woogi not go so well?” he jokes, but when you plop yourself across his lap, staring up at the ceiling with a humourless chuckle back, he figures he’s probably exactly right.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“Wanna talk about it?” He turns off his phone and slips it back into his hoodie pocket to give you his full attention, so you sigh.

“So the goss is that Felix is in love with Eric still, which I already told him and he doesn’t wanna do anything about it, which is fine, and then the other part was that Changbin has been pining over Wooyoung since high school. Which is like, a long ass time to be pining over someone you’ve barely seen since, but it’s enough that his boyfriend noticed – oh yeah, I’m leaving out details again. So Changbin ran into me and Wooyoung at the food court and punched me in the face–“

“–he what?! –“

“–yeah full-on sent me falling over a table, it was hot– yeah and then in a last ditch attempt for him to not like, literally knock my lights out in the middle of the plaza, I complimented his muscles and fed his ego enough for him to be too busy preening to deck me, and then his boyfriend came in. Lee Minho, or Lino apparently is his stage name, and he grabbed my ass, put a metaphorical leash on his boyfriend and basically said we had a point and then plugged Stray Kids’ Instagram, to which obviously I had to stalk, and then I followed his account because he has three really cute cats and we started dm-ing and– here I’ll just show you the messages.”

Sunwoo is straight-up laughing by the time you finish your tale, grabbing your phone from you as you pull up the direct messages with the eccentric man. “You know, just because you’re a rapper doesn’t mean you have to exercise that breath control when telling a story, take it from me.”

“This is how I normally talk!” That draws an exasperated giggle from you, and that’s enough to ease some of the tension that was weighing on your shoulders from the argument. “Basically, you’ll see what I’m talking about when you scroll down to it, but basically I told all this to Wooyoung and he was like, ‘If Changbin has feelings for me and doesn’t even notice I gotta make him notice,’ which for obvious reasons made Mingi a little uncomfortable, because why would he care about his crush on him if he’s already happily taken anyway? So he asked how far their ethical non-monogamy is meant to go and Wooyoung got all defensive and basically said that Mingi is his everything and everyone else is just how he gets his dick wet but doesn’t compare to him, and honestly… that one kinda stung a little.”

Sunwoo visibly winces at that, looking away from the messages to make sure you are okay. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.” You huff, sinking further into the couch and mentally hoping it absorbs you completely. “I dunno it was just so… tense for that moment there. Felt like there was a lot to unpack. Mingi seemed to think so, too, because then he just switched to speaking in Korean and I took that as my cue to leave.”

“Do you remember what he said?” Sunwoo offers helpfully; you aren’t fluent in Korean by any means, but being friends with a whole band of Korean speakers and roommates with two of them forces you to pick some basics up over the years. Especially with Sunwoo practically acting as Eric’s personal tutor, as the latter didn’t learn to speak it growing up but was familiar enough with it for it to be easier for him to learn. Similarly, Kevin never learned it at home either, but was a lot better at self-studying than you were and had also been learning for a lot longer – you had only decided to really commit to it after moving in with the boys and hearing how much they would practice at home.

“I recognised the main words, I think. ‘You’, ‘red’, ‘ears’, and ‘lie’. Lying maybe? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where that was going, though.”

Sunwoo nods, reaching down to play with your hair in a motion you think is supposed to be comforting. It does help. “That’s pretty awkward. How do you feel about it? What are you thinking?”

It’s in times like these when Sunwoo’s maturity shines through; while usually he’s one of the first to goof off and tease or get fired up and in his feelings, in contrast, he can often be very objective with other people’s issues.

“I feel… weird. Like I saw something I probably wasn’t meant to see,” you start with a sigh. It’s hard to place exactly what you’re feeling at first. “It was kind of… disheartening? The way Wooyoung talked about him and Mingi. I don’t know how to explain it, it was just so… uncomfortable. How he kept saying Mingi is basically like, above the rest of us, when I thought we all agreed that romantic relationships shouldn’t be the be-all-or-end-all of human connection because other bonds can be just as strong, but he kept emphasizing how what they have is so special and how he’s Mingi’s and no one else’s, and it’s like… what does that make us? I know he’s not our boyfriend, but I like to think we’re a lot more to him than just friends who get his dick wet.”

Sunwoo mulls it over for a moment, then stills the movements of his hands to give you a steadfast look.

“Do you want us to be more than friends?”

The question kicks your heartbeat into overdrive, suddenly picking up like you’re being chased by an unseen beast that could snuff you out at a moment’s notice. You try not to let that alarm show, but you have the gut feeling that Sunwoo picks up on it, at least on your hesitance to respond, so you open your mouth to say something before it looks like your silence has more meaning to it.

“No– yes? I mean, aren’t we already more than friends, in a way? Friends don’t usually do what we do. Is there not an in between friendship and dating? Since when were we the types to be stuck in singular boxes and labels, huh?”

Sunwoo doesn’t seem to buy it, shifting beneath your weight so you sit up to let him adjust his position and get more comfortable. What you don’t expect, is for him to instead swiftly cage you between him and the couch, towering over you with his eyes boring into yours. He doesn’t touch you, his hands placed firmly on either side of your head, but the proximity makes it feel like his whole weight is pushing down on you.

He says your name unwaveringly. “If friendship is just as strong and important as romance, why do you not want to consider us just as friends?”

Your voice gets caught in your throat. You want to ask why he has to be so, so close to ask you such a question, but the time it takes to gather your wits to reply is probably exactly the reason. You can’t lie to him like this, you can’t bluff or flounder or get anything past him. When he looks into your eyes like this, he sees everything beneath him, and in that moment, you feel more naked before him than you ever have been even without the presence of clothes.

“I… because it feels weird to call you guys my friends. Cause I have other friends, I’ve had close friends with benefits, too, but you guys are just… different. It feels different. You guys aren’t on the same level as people I call my friends,” you explain, hoping that it makes even a lick of sense, but you fear now that you’ve said it out loud it only serves to prove Sunwoo’s point.

Do you want to date them? You’ve been bouncing the idea around in your mind for a few years now, and you still don’t have a clear answer. When you first met San and Kevin, the answer was yes. For Wooyoung and Mingi, it was an ‘if only,’ but they were fresh in their relationship at the time, so you figured they were off-limits. Eric and Sunwoo you had figured any attraction to them was just physical and a result of you messing around with them while also developing a meaningful friendship beyond being an experiment or a booty call, but that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted to date them.

But as the band formed and you all grew closer, they quickly became the most important people in your lives by a long shot, people you’re closer with than you ever have been with anyone else, and that’s uncharted waters. Throwing sexual attraction into the mix only further muddies them, because is it that you’re attracted to them as a person in a romantic sense, or you’re attracted to them and the fact that you’re close to them as people and care for them deeply seem inherently romantic through that lens? Is it possible to be attracted to someone physically and love them platonically? Your logic tells you yes, of course, queerplatonic relationships of all kinds exist, but you’ve gotten to the point where you don’t know the difference anymore. Not when this type of relationship is all you’ve ever known, and you’ve enjoyed them too much to bother trying to pursue anything romantic with anyone. After all, explaining to any possible romantic interest that you don’t plan on stopping sleeping with your entire band and whoever else strikes your fancy, and that you and your band are so incredibly close and live together and spend basically all your spare time together, doesn’t usually score you any second dates.

It's not like that has bothered you much, though, perfectly content with what you have with them – they know you far better than any romantic interests ever have, so why would you bother when you already have almost everything you could ask for in a connection? But that only sounds like you’re already dating them, or at least treating it like you are but dodging the big scary ‘label’ question to not frighten them off and burst your bubble.

“You’re thinking really hard right now,” Sunwoo comments, smirking as he analyses your face. Why is he smirking? What does he think he just won? You can’t read his at all. What you do know is if he doesn’t just close the distance and kiss you already you might just explode, but he’s determined on running his mouth and for once in your life you feel helpless to stop him. He’d see right through your attempts at distraction. “Are you finally putting two and two together? Because what I see, is that Wooyoung talking about Mingi as the only one for him made you uncomfortable because you don’t want Mingi to be the only one for him. You want him to be ours, isn’t that right? You want him to be yours, too.”

You feel like the slightest slip of the tongue will end in instant regret, your last coherent thought fizzling out. “Are you trying to tease me right now, Sunwoo? I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” He moves one hand to pinch your chin between his thumb and index finger, making sure you can’t look away from his steadfast gaze. “Dead serious. Do you want to date us? Be romantic with us, tell us those three words you’ve been too scared to say for too long, take us on dates that are explicitly dates, call us yours? Is that what you want?”

How are you even meant to answer such a question? Do you? Don’t you? What would happen if you said yes? Or no? Your head is swimming – if the energy at Wooyoung and Mingi’s apartment felt suffocating, the tension now felt like walking a tightrope with a blindfold on. One wrong step, one wrong breath and you plummet to your untimely demise, but the tightrope you tread on is merely a thread and may snap at any moment regardless.

He says your name again, calling your attention back to him, awaiting an answer.

You don’t have one for him.

The door swings open so violently it bangs against the wall, San bursting in with a shout and his laptop in hand, screen facing toward you, and the most positively mind-blown expression on his face.

“You guys won’t fucking believe what I just found–! Oh. Uh.” His voice is booming until it’s not, dropping to the lowest of volumes once he sees you and Sunwoo’s position on the couch and the seriousness on your faces. Both you and Sunwoo break that contact to look at him in surprise, his equally surprised face staring right back at you. It’s laughable, even, how San has walked in on far less innocent interactions between you guys before, but it seems that even at a moments notice he can feel the thickness of the tension in the room. “Should I uh. Should I come back later? Am I interrupting something?”

You want to say yes, but it’s not like you had an answer for Sunwoo anyway. You suspect Sunwoo will tell him to leave so he can continue drilling you in private, but instead his attention catches on to whatever’s on San’s laptop. It’s porn, which isn’t very surprising, but Sunwoo cuts off whatever he was about to reply and narrows his eyes.

“Is that… Hyunjin?”

San is thrilled to launch into his story about how he was looking into camming as a potential source of income as he may or may not be about to get fired from the Snack Falcon he worked at after one too many shifts of just clocking on and leaving whenever he felt like it because hardly anyone shows up to that store anyway – “Ham Panther is literally right across the street,” he argued, “And they just sell the same shit, and more shit, for cheaper! Anyone who wants good food would have a better time at like, any other store that actually exists.” – but the final straw may or may not have been him and Eric smashing their old lights in the carpark at the back of the store when he was supposed to be closing.

“Jesus Christ, San,” you wheeze, “I’m honestly surprised it took them this long. Wait, but, wasn’t the reason they hadn’t fired you yet was because you were like, the only other employee they had?”

Sunwoo had given you a long, hard look before removing himself from you and letting San come in and go on about his story, which spoke all the words it needed to say. ‘We’ll come back to this later.’ You’re not sure you want to, but you’re happy indulge in San’s shenanigans for the time being and catch your breath again, even if it’s a struggle to shake off the heaviness of everything all at once so suddenly.

“Yeah, well, I was, but then this new guy joined, I think his name is Jeongin or something? I dunno, but it probably doesn’t matter since if he can take my shifts I’m probably done for. I’m at least gonna see a cut in my shifts, but also, I think the night shift guy is leaving, so there might be hope for me yet.”

“But not for your sleep schedule,” you joke, and San nods solemnly.

“Yup, no hope for that one. But anyway! Either way I was like, this probably won’t bode over well, and I’m hot as fuck so I might as well give a shot at being a camboy on the side? Like, seems easier than being a stripper, since I don’t have to learn how to dance or work a pole, and we have enough sex that I probably wouldn’t need to change much of my routine as much as just like, chucking on a camera every now and then. I could make sure your faces aren’t included in the shot, or I could just go solo. Helps to have an apartment to myself.”

“Keep flexing that on us, why don’t you?” Sunwoo huffs, rolling his eyes. He’s quieter than usual, but not enough for it to look like anything more than just being tired, but he’s no less sassy. “I’m less shocked you still have a job and more shocked that you can still pay for an apartment on your own.”

“Well, it helps that I don’t spend much on food,” San reasons, “Considering Wooyoung cooks enough to feed a small country and gets offended when we don’t eat it, and the rest of you guys don’t mind me raiding the fridge every other night or so.”

You snort. “Who said we don’t mind? You know the rule, if there’s only one left it’s not yours – take the last slice of pizza again and I will fucking end you, Choi San.”

He guiltily covers his hand with his mouth. “Oops! Enough of that though, so long story short I heard this site was pretty safe and pays well so I take a look to see what my competition would be like, and lo and behold… the one and only Stray Kids’ Hwang Hyunjin’s cock, balls and ass, first thing on my laptop screen. Viola!”

Placing himself on the couch next to you two with his laptop on his knees for you to see, he clicks play. You only recognise the man after your thorough Instagram stalking from earlier, but it’s definitely him – he doesn’t cover his face at all, the side of it pressed to the mattress with his ass up in the air, stuffed with a pink toy, hands tied behind his back and hard, leaking cock on full display for the camera, trapped in a cock ring that keeps vibrating around him. You wonder how he’s planning to untie himself after he finishes – or how he tied his own wrists behind his back anyway, and if he did that on camera or before turning it on, because there doesn’t seem to be anyone else with him. He must’ve been live for a while now because he looks on the brink of tears as the buzzing stops, brokenly whining and writhing on the bed.

“Please,” he whimpers, shamelessly shoving his hips down on the mattress where he’s stained it with his pre-cum already in an attempt to get any kind of stimulation while bound, “Please let me come. I’ve been so good for you guys, please, I was so, so close…!”

You can’t deny that the visual – hell, the audio too – is hot. Anyone with eyes, ears and a sexual attraction to men would agree on that much. While you thought you’d probably end up zoning out and overthinking your interactions with your bandmates the whole time, you find yourself instead transfixed with the performer on the screen and his alternative form of performance. Does his band know about this, you wonder? If not, it could be quite the juicy secret to leverage later. Regardless, heat simmers beneath your skin with every one of Hyunjin’s whiny pleas.

The chat is moving so fast you almost can’t keep up with it. But you do notice the sudden influx of donations, and suddenly the buzzing resumes again and Hyunjin’s whole body jolts as he squirms to get back on his knees so the camera can see his dick again. He doesn’t seem like he’s acting or playing much up, eyes glazed over and breathing heavy in between his honey-sweet moans. He’s so unfathomably pretty that even fucked out like this, he looks picturesque.

“Don’t come…? Guys please, please just let me come, haah, I’ll- I’ll put on such a pretty show for you I p-promise!”

San shamelessly adjusts the raging hard-on in his pants as you watch, hand hovering over the tracking pad. “So he’s managed to hook up both a cock ring and a vibrator to the site’s donations, but there’s options both to make it vibrate but also to make it stop, which I’ve never really seen before. It’s like a bidding war between the ones who want to edge him and the ones who want to make him come, which might be hell for him but holy hell is he raking in mad cash that way.”

“That’s actually so smart,” you hum thoughtfully, “Leveraging control freaks’ need for control to make even more money. Guess the orgasm denial enthusiasts are winning tonight, huh?”

“Do you think this is how they afforded all that fancy shit for their stage? Look, that guy just donated a hundred bucks to edge him again. If I can make this much money off camming, I can quit Snack Falcon for good and get like a day’s worth of pay in an hour or two!”

Sunwoo isn’t even paying attention to what he’s saying, fixated on the view on the screen and the sounds of Hyunjin’s whimpering filtering from the speakers. He slips a hand down the waistband of his pants and boxers to stroke himself languidly, wetting his lips. “He’s fucking hot.”

Jerking off to porn together isn’t exactly the most common activity between the renegades, but it’s not unheard of, either, if one of you happen to stumble across something hot enough to be worth sharing. It’s just that most of the time, with so many options readily available, you don’t really need to look for porn when the group chat’s attachments are full of it, and you could create an equally hot or even hotter scenario yourselves.

It’s still normal enough that you all just fall into it naturally without talking about it, San also tugging his cock free to jerk it a lot hastier than Sunwoo, obviously riled up from the moment he entered the apartment, shamelessly letting his head fall back and a groan filter from his lips at the sight. “He’s so fucking hot it’s unfair.”

Unfair to who? You think San is arguably just as breathtaking, but it doesn’t seem like the right time to voice that thought, especially after everything that just happened, so you keep that part to yourself and simply take in the sight of him, jaw clenched and almost fucking into his fist before turning back to the screen.

“Yeah, no kidding. Perfect face, perfect body, I can’t really say I’m surprised people are paying hundreds just to have their way with him,” you mutter in awe, working your fly undone because that visual is enough to make you throb but the sounds just make it maddening. Is that how desperate he usually sounds, or is that just him on camera? You’re itching to find out, already having decided on your next target for your borderline malicious flirting.

To your surprise, Sunwoo slaps your hands away with his free one before you can slip them down your underwear, but before you can protest or ask why he replaces it with his own, quick to rub at your enlarged clit without any of his usual teasing. You’re not sure if he just feels like it, or if it has anything to do with the conversation you were having before San interrupted, but if that is the case you’re not exactly sure what the message he’s trying to give is supposed to be. You don’t oppose to it though, happy to reach over and grab his dick instead, but he doesn’t let you do that either, clearly insistent on you not doing any of the work and him getting both of you off. You’re almost shocked that San doesn’t complain at being left out, but he’s not even looking at you two, just at Hyunjin’s trembling form on his laptop.

“O-Oh fuck, my love– my loves, I’m close, please, please let me come, d-don’t you think I deserve it? Ha-ah… please…!”

He desperately glances somewhere beyond the camera, and that answers your question from earlier; someone lucky is in the room with him – you wonder who, whether it’s a partner, a bandmate, or some else, but the thought doesn’t occupy you for long as much as the thought of him liking an audience even without a camera – watching as Hyunjin’s mouth falls open in a silent plea; please. He must be truly at his limit if he’s asking someone to interfere with his viewer’s wishes just for the sake of his orgasm, but the beautiful distress on his face tells you that whoever is on the other side of the camera isn’t budging. You like seeing him a mess like this, rather than the pretty and powerful man you saw on stage and talking to Felix at the Prism, and knowing that he’s your competition has you hoping they prolong his suffering just a bit longer; the thought of seeing him break and cry along with the feeling of Sunwoo’s skilled fingers between your legs has you almost dizzy.

“San, make him turn it off.”

“Wait, what?” San finally looks at you, hands balled into fists by your side as Sunwoo continues working his magic. “Like, turn off the stream or–“

“No, donate like twenty bucks to turn it off, I’ll pay you back later– I just hope no one pays higher to keep it on…”

“You’re cruel,” San scoffs, but he’s grinning just as sadistically as you as he sets up the donation to turn off the cock ring and the vibrator at the same time, and to your luck, as soon as the donation goes through, Hyunjin’s body goes limp as both toys immediately turn off.

“No, no, no, please let me come!” Hyunjin borderline screams, voice cracking under the strain as tears stain his pretty cheeks. His hips twitch in search of the stimulation he just lost, but within seconds he’s spurting cum all over his stomach and the sheets beneath him completely untouched, gasping and thrashing around on the bed. “No, fuck, no, please…”

He sobs into the sheets, the muscles in his arms bulging with effort to free himself from his restraints, but the moment passes and his dick is still achingly hard and an angry red from his ruined orgasm. His ruined orgasm after being edged for possibly hours by strangers, the orgasm that you decided to ruin just to see him squirm.

The rush of power hits you all at once, and with the addition of Sunwoo rubbing at your clit with vigour, you follow after Hyunjin, hips bucking up into Sunwoo’s warm hand as your high rolls through you in waves. You don’t make much noise beyond a brief groan, wanting to hear Hyunjin continue to plead, higher-pitched this time as the toys turn on again to overstimulate him after having his orgasm ruined. He’s an absolute wreck, covered in sweat, tears and cum, hair sticking to his face and framing his head on the mattress like a crown, and you find yourself coming harder than you usually would just from rubbing one out with someone’s fingers.

Sunwoo smirks, retracting his hand and licking them clean, moaning at the taste as he finishes in his own fist, grunting lowly at the feeling. Wanting to repay his generosity, you lean over and take his dick in your mouth, sucking it clean and making him twitch wildly at the oversensitivity, but you move to suck his fingers clean instead before it becomes too much, and he strokes your hair affectionately with his free hand as a silent thank you.

San is a lot louder as he gets closer, moaning and biting his lip, face scrunched up in pleasure. “Me next, please, I’m so close, just–“ He gently holds the back of your head, and you allow him to lead you to his cock and take the tip in your mouth, wrapping your hand around the base while you suck. “Fuck! Yes, just like that, thank you, fuck, I’m gonna come– can you– can I–“

You hum in confirmation, swirling your tongue around him and making sure to drag the ball of your piercing along the underside of the sensitive head just the way he likes it, and he comes within seconds, emptying his load on your tongue. As hot as the action is, it doesn’t taste great, probably due to the amount of americanos he’s been drinking as of late – so, feeling a little cheeky, you lean up to kiss him in his post-orgasm glow, and make sure to shove your tongue in his mouth and give you a taste of himself.

“Mmh–!” He makes a cutely disgruntled noise as you, for all practical purposes, spit his cum back in his mouth, but he doesn’t push you off him right away. When he does, he clicks his tongue a few times with a scrunched nose, tasting himself, then sticks his tongue out. “Okay, loud and clear, you don’t have to say it.”

You snicker at that, happy with your petty revenge and his endearingly peeved expression. “Less coming in my mouth till you lessen your coffee intake, ya nasty.”

San chuckles, covering his face with his arm in mild embarrassment. Only mild – it would probably be far more embarrassing with a partner or a hook-up, but the runaways unique closeness shines through once more as it doesn’t seem to bother him or ruin the moment. There wasn’t much of a moment to ruin, really – it was simply a casual release between friends. Bandmates. Whatever. It was casual, is the point, and comfortable enough to pick on each other like this and for him to dismiss it. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe I’ll invest in some pineapple juice or something.”

Sunwoo simply snorts at the exchange, tucking himself back into his pants and getting up. “Alright, I’m gonna go get us dinner, San are you staying?”

He beams, dimples on full display, charming as can be. “If you would be so kind, yes please.”

The other man simply rolls his eyes as he grabs his keys and goes to slip his shoes on. “I’m only so generous to you because you effectively pay for all our snacks by not looking while on duty.” He turns to you just as he’s about to head out the door. “Give some thought to what we were talking about earlier.”

San glances at you in confusion at you at that, but you don’t pay him any mind. “I think I wanna hear your answer first, mister.”

Sunwoo quirks a brow, the slightest of smirks pulling at his plush lips. That damn infuriating smirk that you usually love but is now driving you an entirely foreign kind of crazy that you are not equipped to deal with.

“Hm. I think that in itself tells me yours.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to elaborate or respond, stepping out into the hallway and shutting the door behind him, leaving you feeling as exposed as Hyunjin was on the screen moments earlier. Of course he has to get the last word in, that ass – but the implications of it haunt you all the way to your bed that night, staring at the ceiling, while Sunwoo sleeps with an arm around you like nothing – or maybe everything? – ever happened.

[kanesthirstblog]

NSFW ALPHABET: ABE HARUAKI

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Requires lots of aftercare but also wants to take care of you. Very clingly, like, will latch onto you and cuddle you for the rest of the night clingy. You should probably give him some reassurance or comfort, he seems like the type to stress about whether or not he was any good to you once the fun is over.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Hmmm... Totally the sappy kinda guy who tells you he loves all of your body and thinks it's beautiful and 100% means every praise he sings you about it. He loves everything about you from your soft hair to the tips of your toes.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

God. Just imagining him sprawled out on any surface with an exhausted yet dopey look in his eyes, covered in his own cum (and/or yours of course!) after a few rounds of sex really makes me feel satisfied. Really can't explain this one

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Secretly a bit of a masochist but also scared of being hurt so he never asks even if he really wants to.

Also secretly owns a couple erotic novels he used as "research" when you first brought up wanting a sexual relationship. Since you are his first, he would want to see how he's supposed to act in that scenenrio so he could please you properly. (But damn was he shocked when you wanted to be the dominant one. That wasn't in his books.) Haruaki learns the importance of communication that day.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Dudes a canon virgin y'all. This also excites me.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Secretly loves it when he's on his back so he can see your face as you ride him or peg him. He just thinks you're the prettiest person he's evermet and loves watching you even as you tease or toy with him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's a sappy guy. Would probably look at you like a puppy who sees someone they really love. Besides that he's have that dopey look like he's never been happier than he is in that moment, smiling up at you.

Once you've had sex a couple times he might start opening up more, cracking jokes and asking shy requests from you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yup. Makes sure he's nice and clean especially

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He really tries hard to be romantic but he has 0 experience in this area and often fumbles his way through it by trying to be sweet and make you feel good. Very bad at saying romantic things and would probably give up after a bit before he dies from embarassment.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Tbh I actually think he'd barely masturbate if he did at all. This is partly because I actually have an asexual headcanon for him and partly cause in canon he seems really put off by sexual things if not being outright afraid of them.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Contrary to some of the fandom headcanons, I don't really imagine the sailor uniform thing as a kink. It just seems like a typical fixation or something that gets played up for laughs to a strange degree. But maybe thats my ADHD dumbass brain projecting my ADHD onto a fave. (Off topic but him knowing everything about sailor uniforms, from design to creation, being able to make them himself, getting happy any time he sees one, ect. Are headcanons I have because his weird fixation with them reminds me of my fixation on rocks, mushrooms, and jewelry.)

HOWEVER

Praise kink. Body worship. He'd love to be pet gently while you tell him how pretty he is. How you love his soft hair or his long legs or slender form as you lightly trail you fingertips down his body or card fingers through his hair. And he would do the same for you too.

Might at least try pegging, and then realizes he actually likes it when you hold him down and pound his ass.

Would be too embarrassed and a bit scared to bring this up but actually likes the idea being treated roughly. If you could pull at his hair and bite him even a little bit he'd practically melt in your hands.

Might try bondage if it's light. Soft hand cuffs or silk ropes are the way to go.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

At home. Anywhere is fine as long as its at home

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The fastest way is probably being physical with him or just stripping for him. He gets embarassed and tries to hide but you know he's aroused, you can feel it when you sit on his lap.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He'd probably not be okay with having more than one partner. You might frighten him if he starts feeling like you guys are ganging up on him.

Public/semi-public sex is a no go. Especially since he is a teacher, he wouldn't risk his job on the off chance you both get caught.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I think he actually might no be very into oral at first. But will give or recieve though you may have to hear some complaint about it being kind of unsanitary or something. He's also kinda bad a giving oral but what did you expect? He's a virgin.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Personally prefers the slow and sensual kinda sex but you set the pace regardless so ultimately it's up to you. He won't be turned into a stuttering mess right away if you guys take it slow.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Alright with it as long as it stays private. You'll be the only one asking for these but try to get him in the morning before he leaves for work so you can corner him against a counter. Its best when his back is turned so you can grab his hair and lick along his throat, nipping here and there. He'd shiver in your arms as you trail a hand down to undo his pants

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As long as it isn't a risk to him (would probably be too scared to try knifeplay) or job (no public/semi-public sex) you could probably talk him into it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Hmmm... Depends I guess. I feel like he might only be active for a round or maybe 2 before he starts slowing down. You could still pound the guy into the mattress but he'll have those half lidded doe eyes cloudy with exhaustion. He'd wrap his arms around you loosely as if you'll help ground him to the waking world and try to hold you closer to him.

At that point you should definitely ask a few times before you start another round to make sure he's okay and reassure him that it's alright to stop now. Strikes me as someone who could easily fall into a place where he'd hide his desire to stop just so you can use him for your own fun since it makes you happy. That could be kinda bad for his mental health.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

You'd be the one with all the toys tbh. But you can sure as hell use them on him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's not much of a tease but if he's feeling playful, he might play up the innocent look of his. He really is a pretty innocent guy actually, but he knows you love that sweet look he's got to him and he will use it on you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

So damn loud. This guy would moan and beg loudly, scream your name and plead for mercy, for relief as you all but eat him alive. Might even cry and whine and beg. Oh, but he tries to be quiet so he doesn't risk disturbing anyone. He'd purse his lips and turn away from you while you play with his body in an attempt to stay quiet but he always gives in quickly. It's easy to turn this guy into a whimpering, begging mess no matter how many times you do this.

You'll know when he's tired because he will be unable to make much noise besides low pants and gasps. Probably best to wrap things up at that point before ya fuck him unconcious.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I have a few actually.

-Has a hard time saying no to you. He's a bit cowardly and overthinks and he would be afraid to lose a first relationship. This is potentially hazardous to his mental health because he might say "yes" to something he doesn't want for fear of losing you. Consent is important though so even if it's difficult at first, keep checking to make sure he's alright.

-I actually headcanon him as a sex indifferent asexual. He can 100% live with sex or without it. Doesn't matter to him, though he's terrified of trying it for the first time.

-The first time you tried to get him in bed, you pinned him to a wall and he was terrified because he thought you were trying to shake him down or harass him. (Well, the latter part was true but not the way he expected.) And then you kissed him and he straight up broke, wrapped himself in blankets and hid under the futon for the rest of the day. Disappointing? Sure, but damn was it cute.

-I'm actually caught up on how he would take to dirty talk tbh since a lot of it I've seen or heard involves some form or another of calling your partner a slut or whatever. Seems to be popular. On one hand if he's secretly a masochist, he might be into it. But on the other, he also seems like he might take anything you say to him to heart and beat himself up over it and would ultimately not like it. Also probably would not be comfortable if he did the dirty talking and assuming he manages to make it through the night without apologizing to you for everything he says, then you'll hear it when you finish.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Mandragora patterned briefs. You cannot change my mind on this one.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not very, so he's pretty chill about it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends on how much you exhausted him but it usually doesn't take that long.

Bonus:

Some more cute Haruaki.

[jjaybank]

a knight in faded cut-offs ~ jj maybank

words: 1,745

warnings:swears

requested:yesss :)

A/N:request from anon - Hii can I request one of JJ x Female Reader? The reader doesn’t have a car so she takes public transportation (taxi, bus, Uber, etc). She oversleeps and misses her ride and gets really stressed out about it. JJ sees her stressing and offers to take her to wherever she was going on his motorcycle. Then when they get there, he asks her out before she goes inside or something like that :)

Hi angel, I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get to your request! I will do better.

tagging some beauts (i hope thats okay): @bricksatanakinswindow @socialwriter @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @downbytheouterbanks @maybanksbaby @pixelated-pogues 

 lmk if you wanna be tagged in my stuff (and also if you don’t x) ﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You wake with a start, catching yourself freefalling through a dream.  The kind that makes you come round with a jolt and that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach.  You roll over in bed, rubbing sleep from your eyes and yawning into a stretch. Sunlight streams through your shutters and over your bedsheets, illuminating your bedroom in a soft glow. Which you languidly realise is pretty unusual.  The sun is usually only just coming up when you wake for work. Fuck. 

Your heart lurches into your throat and that sick feeling hurtles through your body again as you realise you must have overslept. You scramble around in your bed sheets, eventually shaking your phone onto the floor.  You reach for it desperately, jabbing at the screen.  It’s dead.  You must have forgotten to charge it overnight.  You roll your eyes and groan in panic, jamming the charger into the port.   You race around your room, throwing on your work uniform and frantically pulling a brush through your hair.  You throw the shutters open in haste, anxiously trying to gauge the time by the state of the traffic.  You squint at the fuel station across the street.  You recognise a few of the usual suspects picking up their morning paper and coffees, which relaxes you momentarily because it means that surely you’re not that late.  You curse when you stub your toe on the foot of your bed.   Your phone finally lights up with life and you grab at it while attempting to pull your shoes on one handed.  7.29 AM.   Fuck.   Your eyes dart to the window just as your 7.30 bus rolls on past.  A tirade of swear words cascade from your mouth as you grab your bag and dash for the door. It’s a beautiful day and you hate it. When the weather is bad the bus is always running late, and you are left to wait in a downpour.  But on this gorgeous, bright, sunshiney day here you are sprinting after your ride which has no intention of stopping. You give up on the chase as the bus rounds the corner of the street, resorting to throwing your middle finger up at the retreating vehicle.  Cars beep at you as they whizz past and you smile sarcastically, dipping into an over the top bow as you catch your breath.  You sigh in resignation as you slump against the pole of the bus stop, your mind racing as you consider your options.  You watch the people in the fuel station; a woman filling up the tank of her van, a group of youngsters grabbing sweets on their way to school, a blond guy kneeling beside his dirt bike checking a tyre.  You catch his eye for a moment across the road before you pull your gaze away and down to the tarmac.  You spare a glance for your phone and notice its already dropped back down to 1%.   You work on the other side of The Cut, a half hour bus ride away so you definitely aren’t going to make it on time by foot.  You have neither enough charge nor the cash for a taxi since you usually rely on your bus pass.   You are already on strike two – one more misdemeanour and you’ve got the sack which, given your financial situation, isn’t really something you can afford.   Fuck! And this time you say it out loud – in fact it’s more of a scream. Your outburst catches the attention of several people, including the blond. His head whips up from where he has been focussed on his bike and his brow furrows at your clear distress.  You cover your mouth sheepishly, waving a general apology to the vicinity.  You bury your face in your hands, the disaster of a morning running through your mind. You’ve probably only been awake for around ten minutes and it’s already one of the worst days you’ve had in a long while.  You are considering heading home to charge your phone and risk a call to your incredibly unforgiving boss, when a bike skids to a halt in front of you, sending small stones skittering over your barely tied laces.   You look up in despair, literally how could this day get any worse?   ‘Bad morning?’ It’s the blond guy from the fuel station. You watch in bewilderment as he dismounts from his dodgy looking dirt bike.  You look up and down the street – it’s broad daylight and there are commuters here, there and everywhere, if he’s a kidnapper then he’s a pretty shitty one. You look back to him and he’s watching you expectantly.   ‘Well?’ he probes, shifting against his bike so that he’s leaning against it with a certain air of confidence.   ‘I- uh,’ you stumble over your words and roll your eyes for the hundredth time since you woke, ‘yeah, “bad” would be an understatement.’   You laugh dryly, rubbing the toe of your shoe into the ground. He catches you off guard by flashing the brightest of grins and patting the seat of his bike.   ‘Need a ride?’   You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. ‘Why would you do that?’ you ask, baffled as to why the guy would go out of his way for someone he’d never met before.   He scratches the back of his neck bashfully and his vividly blue eyes meet your sceptical ones.   ‘Are you in a rush or nah? Just tryna get in that good karma.’ He laughs, shaking his head and moving to straddle his bike again.   Your heart thumps against your chest as you weigh up your options.  You really need your job.   ‘Wait!�� You step forward and his head snaps back around, a small smirk playing over his face.  You stretch a hand out towards him and he takes it warmly, passing you the helmet that’s been sitting on the handle bars.   ‘I’m Y/N’ you say, shooting him a brief smile as you secure the helmet on your head.  He helps you settle down on the back of the bike before he slips in front of you. ‘Nice to meet you, Y/N,’ and you can hear the amusement in his voice, ‘my name is JJ, I will be your captain today.’ You can’t help but snort in laughter.   ‘Please hold on tight and keep hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times.’  You wrap your arms around his waist tentatively in response.   ‘I do hope you enjoy your journey today to- wait, where are we going?’ He spins around in his seat to face you, and for some reason you can’t help but match his wide smile.   ‘Heywards,’ you respond, ‘you know it?’ ‘Oh, boy do I!’ He laughs out loud.  ‘Yeah, I get now why you don’t wanna be late.’ ‘Yeah.’ You groan, resting your helmet clad head against his back as he turns back around to start up the bike. The engine rumbles beneath you and before you know it the wind is pulling at your hair as you take off down the street and across the Cut.  You can’t help but enjoy the feeling.  The sun on your skin, the feeling of the boy’s muscles moving against you, the taste of the salt in the air as you pass through the harbour.  If you weren’t so worried about being fired then it would feel kind of magical.   The pair of you let out a whoop of joy as JJ overtakes the bus, each throwing up your middle fingers at the driver as you pass. You really hope he doesn’t recognise you or tomorrow morning will be awfully awkward.   You feel a weird sense of dread as JJ brings the bike to a skidding halt outside Heywards.  And it’s not because of the hour, you’ve made up plenty of time racing across the Cut clinging onto him for dear life.  You pout a little as you return the helmet.   ‘Thank you, JJ.’ and his face splits into a grin at the sound of you saying his name.   ‘It’s nothing.  You should miss the bus more often.’ You laugh at his brazen comment and catch the kind twinkle in his eyes.  You can feel a blush creeping up your neck as his gaze lingers on you for a moment too long. Movement in the shop breaks the moment and you step away from the bike quickly, running a hand through your tousled hair.   ‘Well, I better get going’ you grimace, gesturing towards the shop with your thumb.   He nods, his face twisted in thought. You offer a tight-lipped smile which he returns reluctantly. ‘Thanks again.’ You barely make three steps when you feel a hand wrap around your arm.  You jump a little but find yourself biting your lip against a grin as you come face to face with the boy again.   ‘Hi.’ He beams sheepishly. ‘Hi.’ Your stomach does a flip. You notice his tongue run delicately over his front teeth as he smiles down at you.   ‘I was just wondering if you’d maybe wanna call me sometime? Y’know, if you ever find yourself running late again?’ He surprises himself with how nervous he is, but his words are dripping with charm none the less.

You hold up your phone with a smirk. ‘Dead.’ You shrug and find yourself enjoying how disappointed he looks. ‘But maybe I can give you my number?’  He perks up immediately at your suggestion, rummaging in his pocket and pulling his phone out triumphantly.  You shake your head at his eagerness and type your number into his contacts.  He watches you walk into the store, waving briefly as Heyward shoos him away.   ~ Your day runs pretty smoothly from then on. Heyward even praises you for being a little early that morning.  He does shoot you difficult questions about why you were talking to JJ Maybank, however.  You kind of like that the boy’s reputation proceeded him.  When you finally get around to charging your phone later in the day you have two texts from an unknown number.  You smile to yourself as you open them quickly.   Y/N, it’s your knight in shining armour. I really hope the rest of your morning isn’t so bad. It really was nice to meet you. - JJ

You feel warm inside at the thought of the boy thinking about how your day was. You scroll down to the next message.  

You planning on running late tomorrow too?

And you were seriously considering it. ____________________________________ my requests are open x

[spahhzy]

No title: Chapter 4. Bridge to nowhere.

*Dimension 63 OG*

"Oh boy...Salem was early she really wasn't even supposed to arrive till AFTER the battle..."

.

.

.

"Jaune Arc?" Asked Cinder but all she got was a warm tingly feeling in her grimm arm.

"Yes Jaune Arc, bring him to me THAT is your main priority everything else is secondary" Salem said to her but to which Cinder was a bit confused.

Why did she need that weakling for?

"Master...I am confused why do you want me to prioritize that weakling above the relic...above the winter maiden!" Cinder said to her but all she got was silence.

"He is hardly worth the trouble expending energy for and as sad and pathetic as he is-ack" Cinder couldn't continue her tirade on Jaune as she felt her Grimm hand move and put a hand around her neck.

"What I want should be of no concern to you Cinder; YOU will do what I desire and not to further question me again...do we have an understanding?" Cinder couldn't see it but she could damn well feel her masters murderous gaze even with the Grimm hand suffocating her.

Cinder weakly nodded as she felt her grimm hand release her throat allowing the fall Maiden to gasp for air.

"Good...proceed with your plan...I will join you shortly" Join?

"*cough* join master?" Cinder said feebly and she felt the her grimm hand go warm and tingly again.

"Yes of course...as soon as I am able you'll know of my arrival" and with that the looming presence vanished.

.

.

.

"Like I said Salem was never supposed to return much less talk to Cinder again till after the battle...yet somehow she does"

"So we're still missing... about three more of the team members before we can get back to fixing what's broken and if im not mistaken...a certain gremlin should be plopping through the door soon.."

" anywho uh where was I? Oh right!"

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.

.

Cinder revealed only the part where she and Neo had managed to find out what Ruby and Co. where doing thanks to the Lamp.

She did not however tell her about the Salem part.

While she was busy talking, Neo was walking up behind Ruby under the disguise of an Mantle civilian with Hush seemingly ready to strike and finally end the silver eyed life.

Or was...

"Ruby!"

Yang had rushed in for her baby sister and took the strike meant for Ruby.

It shattered her aura but worse of all...she fell over the bridge.

.

.

.

"You know the bridge that Ambrosius said NOT to fall over...numpties"

"Sorry sorry...its just...it was hard to keep track of folk when they dissappear into a fucking pocket dimension...or maybe was it hell?"

"No...thats not hell...so was it a pocket dimension?...fuck I'm getting a headache"

.

.

.

"Yang!" Screamed Blake seeing her partner vanish into thin air she tried to jump after her but was held back by Weiss.

Enraged she turned towards Neo who was currently engaged with Ruby.

She ran towards the two throwing Gambol at Neo restraining her arm before coming down with a slash only for Neo to shatter and reappear still fighting Ruby.

Meanwhile Cinder hovered in the air as she threw fire slashes of her sword at Weiss who used her glyphs to block and dodge them.

"Why'd you have to come back!?" Came the voice of Penny who was flying in the air towards Cinder.

"Penny no!" Shouted Weiss as Penny flew rapidly towards Cinder.

"Why didn't you learn you lesson!" She said before punching Cinder sending the fall Maiden flying back.

"Oh Penny...I did" Cinder said as Penny looked back behind her to her friends and mantle citizens in concern which gave an opening as Cinder swiped at her with fire.

The battle continued with both Maidens flying in the air hit after hit on each other with Cinder gaining ground, it wasn't until a black Glyph by Weiss pulled Cinder in distracting her.

Annoyed Cinder used her Grimm arm and spawned in sharp projectiles, Weiss standing at the top near one of the gateways saw that citizens were still coming through she casted a glyph just as Cinder launched the projectiles blocking a few but some went in other directions and a few even through the gateway.

Jaune whom was helping with the evacuation effort in Mantle turned around as screams went out as the spike came through the gate luckily no one was injured though Jaune was concerned. Something was very very wrong.

.

.

.

"Oh indeed something was wrong and not because of Cinder"

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.

Jaune had made sure everyone was safe and not injured, once he was sure no harm came to mantle people, he turned to the gateway and narrowed his eyes.

He turned back to the crowd.

"I'm going in, use the other portal down the line" he pointed to another portal few feet away to which everyone nodded and started running to it.

Turning back, Jaune made his was forward stopping right at the entrance, breathing in and out and steeling his nerves Jaune finally moved right through.

As he was propelled through Jaune felt a sudden headache coming on and before he could blink the entrance to the other side was upon him.

Screaming Jaune went through the other portal expecting to be at the bridge way that lead to vacuo.

So when Jaune made it through the gateway he was surprised to not be standing on golden bridges leading to one big doorway, but it was a room!

Why was he here?...where ever here was!

He felt his head throb again too which he dropped to one knee.

"Woooow! You live here in this castle that's so cool Auntie!" Widening his eyes he turned around to see the boy from his last delusion and that same woman was their as well.

"It is pretty cool isn't it?" The woman chuckled ad she walked around while the young blonde boy just looked around amazed and excited. He stopped at the window before he let out another 'Wooow'.

Jaune stood up from one knee and walked towards the window and all he saw was a vast rocky terrain with purple crystals erected from the ground and the skies were a dark red.

"Hey Auntie...you sure mom and dad won't be mad you took me to this castle?" Asked the little boy to which the woman put a hand on his head and rubbed his hair.

"Will be back before they realize anything little knight...oh...would you like to see something interesting?"

"Oooh would I!" His eyes lit up with excitement and the woman just chucked before pointing a her pale white finger to a black tar like pit outside.

Grimm started to rise out of the tar pit.

"Ooooooh is that how Shadow was created?" At the mention of the word 'Shadow' a little grimm creature, looking almost like an Owl popped out from the boys hoodie and hooted happily at both him and the lady.

"Hmm yes that is his origin but you gave him life little knight" she said as she scratched the owls head gently.

"Coooool!" Before wandering around the room some more.

"Hey Auntie?" The boy said aloud as the pale lady turned around.

"Hmm?"

"Don't you get lonely up here?"

As soon as the boy said that Jaune felt another throb occur as he shit his eyes and opened them back up to reveal...he was no longer in a castle...

"I'm back at this field again...when will the delusion end!" He said to himself looking around but it was all the same as last time, just grass and a faraway mountain range.

"Com- ho-" more unintelligible dribble kept whispering into his ear as his head still kept throbbing.

"I just wanna go back! My friends need me!" He screamed out pacing around in the field while holding his aching head but eventually after futile attempts to find somewhat of an exit combined with the ever going throbbing of his head he stopped and dropped to his knees clutching at the pain he was enduring.

It felt like his skull was splitting in two!

Was he really going to die from a damn headache and in a delusion no less!?

"-ome hom-" and that babbling wasn't helping either!

Everything was going a mile-a-minute....what the hell was goi-

A hand on his shoulder stopped his thoughts suddenly the whispers were gone and the headache went away.

Jaune raised his head and turned around all he saw was a gentle smile and crimson eyes.

"Come home Jaune"

"Jaune!"

Jaune shaking his head only saw his feet tettering on the edge of the bridgeway looking behind him he saw Nora holding his right arm to prevent him from falling forward into the abyss.

"Are you alright Jaune?" Nora asked in concern Jaune just stepped back a little unsure of what the hell was happening, he looked to Nora with a smile.

"I'm fine...it was just the motion-sickness...those crazy doors haha" he said not even so sure of himself.

"Are you sure cause as soon as you passed through you stopped like a rock and then moved forward almost walking off the path" Nora said to which Jaune hugged his teammate.

"I'm fine Nora I promise...what's happened?" Jaune said as he released Nora from the hug and Nora sighed before pointing to the two maidens currently doing battle in the sky.

"Cinder"

" alright...priority one remains the same" Jaune told her as Nora just stared at the two maidens before going off to get the citizens to Vacuo.

Jaune turned his head looking at the fall Maiden and just for a brief moment, he wanted nothing more then to forgo mantle and attack the source fall this...pain and suffering.

Shaking his head he went to get everyone to safety.

.

.

.

"What...comes after well...Cinder managed to knock down both Weiss and Penny, shatter their auras and was going to kill Weiss but Blake managed to intervene"

"The main thing is Ruby, Blake and Neo all fell as in over the bridge fell. Neo bless the little gremlin should have really seen Cinders betrayal coming...I mean come on!"

"'Sigh'...now we get to...that event"

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.

Where did everything go wrong?

Yang, Blake and Ruby had all disappeared off the edge all thanks to Neo and Cinder...and it just Penny and Weiss left...

Dropping down from atop the bridge above Cinder Jaune came down to which Cinder blocked but did not expect to be propelled back by the shield.

She skidded along the platform as Jaune, Penny and Weiss all held out their weapons at her.

"Ahh so there's the knight" Cinder said as Jaune narrowed his eyes at her preparing for whatever attack she was planning until her Grimm arm started flailing about before stopping abruptly, Cinder smiled cruelly.

"She's coming"

Before sending every one backwards from a fire blast and summoning two swords she chucked one at Weiss and one at Jaune before sending a two fire walls splitting Penny up from Weiss and him.

Jaune could only stare in horror as the grimm hand flew through the fire and using its claws...dug itself into penny's chest.

Cinder was trying to steal the maidens power but before she could get any further Weiss came in and continued her attack.

The claws retracted and Penny fell helplessly to the ground bleeding...dying.

"Penny!" Jaune ran in his hands already glowing brilliant gold.

"H-hold on my semblance..."

"No" no? What did she mean by no?

"C-come on theirs no time to be funny" Jaune still had his hands glowing but Penny still didn't use her aura.

"Theirs not enough time...to heal me" Jaune shook his head at her reasoning.

"Weiss is giving us time! Y-you can't let me just let you bleed to death!" He said to her dreading what she was trying to do.

"We can't let her get the staff and the Maiden power..." she reached out her hand weakly and touched Jaunes glowing hand.

"But...their is something you can do" Jaune just looked at his sword.

"I-I don't know where the others are...but like I said Weiss can give us time...theirs no need for-"

"Please let me choose this one thing...trust me" she touched Crocea Mors while smiling weakly.

"Y-y-your asking me to-to " he stammered looking back and forth between his sword and her.

"I'm sorry...I know it's...hard but...please" she begged and Jaune felt tears begin to prick at his eyes.

"B-b-but what about everyone; Ruby, Weiss, Winter everyone...Your father!?" He told her but Penny just shed some tears and shook her head.

"I...I have...no regrets...please we are running out of time" as she said that a scream from Weiss came as Cinder hit her causing Weiss to stumble back.

(Please play World at War 'Vendetta theme')

Jaune held out his sword in front of him the reflection of his eyes staring right back at him. Swallowing the heavy lump in his throat his right hand started shaking as he brought the sword closer to Penny, who was just smiling at him.

"Thank you"

Cinder had gained ground against Weiss and was about to strike down the Schnee before a pained cry rang out.

Jaune with tears in his eyes took the sword out from Penny's chest, his tears fell to the floor along with Penny's blood. Jaune just looked at his sword, one half remained clean showing his teary left blue eye but his right eye was red from...

.

.

.

"I always said...two people died that day Penny and a piece of Jaune died too"

.

.

.

"You!" Screeched Cinder as she summoned her swords, yet Jaune paid no mind as he was so fixated on the puddle of blood pooling around his boots

"My..my god..what have I...what have I done!?" He said to no one but himself.

"Where did it go!?" She questioned in rage as she flew at him but still he said nothing.

"I promised my master I would bring you to her unharmed but unfortunately that won't be that case!" She slashed down her sword downward at him but as she did Jaune just raised his shield still looking at the blood before raising his head towards Cinder.

Cinder looked on in shock as it wasn't a pair of Blue eyes looking at her but one eye, the right eyes,was red.

Red like her masters. Like the grimm. Angry and with malice.

Gritting her teeth she used her grimm arm to bring down the other sword to which Jaune raised Crocea Mors to intercept it...but to Jaunes shock and despair...Cinder's blade cleaved through Crocea Mors.

His right eye flickered back to blue as he just looked at the sword before being knocked down.

"Once more...where did it go?!" She asked before being blasted by energy.

.

.

.

"Penny had managed to transfer the power of the winter maiden to Winter Schnee herself...allowing her to get an edge in defeating ironwood"

.

.

.

A shriek came though as grimm started coming through one of the portals.

on the outside in Mantle, Salem walked towards one of the portals as she used her grimm for eyes to see what was on the other side.

She caught sight of Cinder fighting a women with white hair, which must be the older schnee sibling but that mattered little.

"Where are you my little knight?..." She said before a feeling of joy spread through her as she watched a man with gold hair carry the second youngest of the schnee family.

Now with confirmation that Jaune was their she pressed forward and passed through the gateway...or at least tried to as the portal evaporated in front of her.

"No!"

She looked around as each individual portal kept disappearing.

"No no no no no" The grimm still had sight on Jaune but things were going wrong, her grim were...were falling?

"The pathways are disappearing...but that means..." If Jaune were to fall into the abyss...

She still had sight on him as long as she can reach a portal and get a hold of him all will be okay...all will be fi-

Until the grimm that was finally keeping sight of him finally too fell off and disappeared as well.

"No!" She shouted in despair she couldn't lost him, not Jaune not her s-

Cinder!

She was there!

Priority one bring Jaune Arc to her!

She wouldn't fail her!

Oh she is back! Which means that she must have completed her plan! Which means!

With hope, Salem blasted through to the staff of creation where the last remaining portal was.

.

.

.

"Now I can understand you confusion what is Salem's dedication to Jaune well...you see its a bit complicated...well not really but really does that make alot of sense?"

.

.

.

Winter could only scream in despair as Weiss and Jaune were blown up and tossed into the air, Weiss sailed over the bridge while Jaune slid across the floor his Aura shattering. Winter desperately tried to reach her younger sister who kept falling more and more into the darkness before finally disappearing on a flurry of lights.

Cinder stood triumphantly hold the staff before leaving through the portal that lead to the staff's vault.

Winter floated back up with tears in her eyes, but burned holes in the back of Cinders head as she saw the fall Maiden leave. Swearing vengeance upon her.

"Winter we have to go now!" Said Jaune but Winter kept looking at where Cinder left. Unmoving. Maiden powers still active.

"Winter!" Jaune said as everything started to disappear.

The Maiden powers flared up and Winter flew off towards the door to Vacuo, and Jaune was gonna follow suit...but when Jaune turned to it.. the bridge had already disappeared.

.

.

.

"Now originally Jaune was supposed to follow Winter through the same portal but fail and to dissappear...well that...does happen but..."

.

.

.

Salem had arrived just as Cinder popped through the portal staring at her unimpressed on the outside, but hopeful on the inside. It seemed also that the good general was alive and well...alive enough that is.

But her hope only died as it was just HER that only came through.

"Master I did it...I got the relic...though I could not get the maid-"

"Where's Jaune Arc?" What?

Cinder stepped back for a minute...as her mind processed her question and she paled.

She forgot the main objective...no no her main objective was the staff and Maiden powers.

"Cinder where is Jaune Arc?" Salem asked her voice calm and cold but on the inside Salem was panicking.

"I...I am sorry master by the time I had gotten the staff...the gateways were disappearing" Cinder said to her hoping her master would by her excuse. A blur flew right by her as Salem peered through the portal and gasped at what she saw.

On the other side Jaune needed to do something, the bridge to Vacuo was gone and Winter had all but flown in it but to her credit she did try to get him but he didn't want her to risk it, He'd find a way to Vacuo.

But right now he needed to get out of here, so following around winding paths their was one portal that remained open.

The one Cinder left through.

Shit. If he didn't get captured he would most likely be killed. Dammit it's a lose lose situation all around!

He still kept running finally on the main bridge to that portal.

Just keep running Jaune!

Keep running!

The gateway was insight!

He could jump right through it!

And jump he did as the bridge beneath his feet disappeared leaving Jaune flying in the air towards the gate.

A pale white hand reached out the gate trying desperately to reach out to him, much to Jaune shock , but he too tried to reach out as well.

Salem had reached a hand out of the other side of the portal after seeing Jaune run towards the portal in hopes to catch and pull him back and she was close she had Jaune on her fingertips!

She'd have her little knight back!

Only to her horror as the portal disappeared the shocked face of Jaune Arc was the last thing she saw before he too fell into the darkness and disappeared in a flurry of lights.

Salem looked down at her right hand shakily as Cinder came to her masters aid but was ignored .

Gone.

Her knight.

Her little knight gone just like that...taken from her just like everything else.

The pain came back.

The pain of losing a child.

Had once again returned.

Salem wailed in despair.

.

.

.

" it is wonky but everything is taking its natural course, everything is so far linear as it was supposed to follow"

[cosmicbash]

Hey, So I'm having a bad week and would really like an outed Kells and Em fic, it could be as angsty or fluffy as you want, I just need a happy ending. A little joy from a situation like that would be really nice right now, Thanks P.S. I've been reading your writing for a while and I think they're really great!! I hope you keep having Inspiration to do so!!!

Sorry I'm so late replying to this!! Ive had a shitty busy week myself and i feel horrible its taken me so long!!

I feel like instagram would be Em and Kelly's downfall. Just because the younger rapper is constantly on it, posting little snippets to interact with his fans, going Live, and of course posting pictures.

Slip ups are inevitable once he and Marshall start spending more and more time together.

Because Colson can't just cut back, when he does that fans start speculating. Questioning why exactly he's suddenly getting more secretive or searching through what he does share with a fine tooth comb to spot a new mystery girlfriend.

So Colson continues posting away on instagram and filming his lives, even when he and Marshall are together. Ignoring the headshakes and looks the older rapper shoots his way everytime he's on live laughing it up.

At first it's awkward, Marshall and him keep alternating who's going to duck into the bathroom or step out for coffee. But eventually they get used to it and comfortable enough that Colson can walk around their hotel room filming while Marshall naps on the couch.

The blonde even gets cheeky enough to start teasing his partner, like snapping photos of their shared brunches, or taking after sex selfies that always get Marshall hiding under the blankets or kicking him.

Really Colson should have seen it coming. You can only fly so close to the sun before you get burned afterall.

The mistakes start piling up soon enough.

Marshall accidentally yelling to ask him something when he's recording a live, Colson walking a bit too close to the couch and flashing the hoodie clad rappers back, the bottom of Marshall's AA necklace in the back of a breakfast shot, and more minor incidents that branch out from there.

At first Colson can just brush the unfamilar voice and thankfully covered up body as one of his assitants or friends. But as soon as that necklace peek gets out the internet does its thing and speculation over a possible collab strikes up.

The assumption being he gave everyone the glimpse on purpose.

Of course he's relieved the public isn't immediately jumping to the crazy possibility of them banging. Even though thats exactly what theyre doing. But him and Marshall AREN'T actually making any music together, and neither of them has publicly squashed their beef. Afterall, what better cover than pretending to still hate eachother?

But now that's all out the window. Colson's lack of an immediate excuse and rapid deletion of the photo just convincing the media their theories are correct.

Paul is of course furious, reaming both of them out over the phone about how they better get on a track together or figure out some new cover. And Diddy, well Diddy rarely comes off his self made throne to speak to Colson, let alone acknowledge most of his success, but the rapper actually does inquire to him about the whole spectacle. And Colson can't help but find himself wishing he had a guy like Paul who knew about them and could just simply yell at him because he still has no idea what to even say.

They settle on quiet ambiguous statements from their labels about how the two of them are working towards mending their beef and that a collaboration isn't exactly out of the question at this moment.

It works. For about a month or two, mostly due to them being apart yet again. The major hype dies down and Colson avoids any and all questions relating to Marshall in his lives and on twitter. The two of them are able to breathe a sigh of relief as temporary as it may be.

Until the next time they make time to see eachother. Colson's got a small charity event in Detroit that he plans on using as an excuse to linger around the city and steal some much needed time with his secret boyfriend.

Of course all eyes are on them yet again, questioning whether the young rapper might also be stopping in to work in some music with his rival.

With paparazzi tailing him more than ever it's impossible for him to just go to Marshall's place like he'd planned. Instead forcing him into renting a suite and wasting most of the day stressing over just how the hell he's supposed to sneak Marshall in with the bastards sitting outside the building like hawks. The other rapper isn't exactly helping either, just sending his usual cryptic texts telling Colson not worry about it but never expanding on what his plan is either.

By the time the blonde finally finishes his busy day and drags himself back to the room he has fully accepted that their rendezvous is not going to happen. Marshall had stopped texting him more than two hours ago and he wasn't about to act even more like a spoiled child by blowing the man's phone up. Colson's just given up. He can't even muster the energy to give the paparazzi outside his hotel more then an annoyed comment about how his life doesn't revolve around collaborations and the finger before slipping inside.

Marshall's presence in his hotel room, already stripped down to his night tee and briefs almost looks like a mirage. But when he shuts the door and crosses the room to bury his face in the other man's neck he smells like ivory soap and that woodsy beard oil the blonde bought him and Colson can't help but hug him closer.

He's so relieved to see him he doesn't even snark back at Marshall's muffled comment that he looks like shit.

The moment is sweet and Colson honestly should have realized it was just the calm before the storm but he's too caught up in complaining about the media and basking in his partner's soft agreements to care.

Before taking off to take his shower he hands Marshall over his phone, suggesting the brunette look through the mess his instragram comment section has become, all the questions and posts he's been tagged in over that little picture and their statements. Because why not? They would inevitably end up laying against eachother in bed scrolling through them all together anyway, at least this way Marshall can get a headstart.

And Marshall does actually swipe through them for a bit, spending more time admiring some of his partners pretty posts than he does reading the never ending stream of comments. The rapper rarely gets on the app himself except to post the occasional merch drop and promo. Social media isn't his forte, and it's not like he could follow Colson's account anyway. Navigating the app and searching for his boyfriends account was too much work when he could just asks for selfies over text.

Thats why when Marshall finishes his browsing and begins backing out of a post back to Colson's homepage he doesn't even care to pay much attention to what he's tapping. The flash of black and loading wheel that lights up the screen completely missed when he tosses it across the bed in lieu of playing around on his own phone.

The livestream he accidentally starts mainly films a blank ceiling through the rest of Colson's shower. The occasional creak and shift on the bed from Marshall's weight and blare of music from his own phones speakers all anyone tuning in can hear.

It doesn't take a brain surgeon for fans to realize the Live has been started unknowingly, but thats not going to stop any of them from filing in.

Maybe if Colson hadn't set his phone to silent the string of text messages might have alerted Marshall to his mistake. But the older rapper relaxes back on the bed less than a foot away blissfully unaware until Colson finally exits the bathroom.

Neither of them notice the phone when Marshall sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed, his body briefly flickering past the frame. They don't see the explosion of comments flying past the screen while they talk and Colson shoves the other man back onto the bed again. Bouncing the phone high enough to almost flip it if fate didn't decide to just scoot it closer to their tangling bodies.

Colson's whole upper body and face is in frame from then on. His cheeks flushed and smile cocky while he straddles his unseen partner. Marshall's fingertips peeking onto the screen where they're tickling the skin covering his ribs.

Its not until after Marshall's sat back up and begun peppering kisses down the front of his throat that he finally catches sight of his half blanket covered phone. An amused accusation about the other rapper trying to sneakily film them prompting Marshall to scoff and reach out for it.

"Probably just the app, shits always opening up to the camera on my phone-"

The rush of comments speeding past the screen and the unmistakeable red dot next to LIVE has Marshall freezing. His wide eyed face fully on screen for 10 seconds before Colson finally pries the phone from his hands to see whats got him so spooked.

Instead of panic, anger is what rushes through Colson's veins. A slew of curses leaving his mouth, before he finally manages to end the live. Phone promptly flying out of his hand against the wall afterwards.

The blonde wants to scream and thrash around. And thats what he does, fingers tearimg at his hair in frustration.

It takes Marshall's fingers softly prying them down for Colson to finally open his eyes again. The utterly terrified look on his partner's face chasing away his residual rage. "Fuck Colson I'm sorry-" its not the first time he's heard Marshall apologize, but it is the first time the man has ever done it while looking so scared of his response.

All the months he'd spent dreaming about his rival making such an expression have nothing on the real thing. And that smug powerful feeling he'd imagined was completely absent now. Just an uncomfortable knot seizing up his chest in it's place.

"I'm not--" his own voice feels tight. Tears threatening to bubble up in his eyes while the reality of the whole situation continues to wash over him. "I'm not mad at you, alright?"

He's mad at the media, at his fans, the rap industry, everything that makes him feel like this little slip up and intimate moment of theirs going viral will ruin their lives.

Colson's sick of hiding who he is and who he's with. Its utter bullshit. Its 2019 for chrissakes, who gives a shit who's banging who? They both make bad ass music either way and liking dick shouldn't change that.

Pushing up off of Marshall, Colson moves to climb off the bed. His hopefully not smashed phone across the room his current focus. But the older rapper snags his wrist and wont let him take more than one step.

And thats when Colson realizes just why Marshall looks so terrified. The man's worried that this is it, that he's going to just leave.

Run away from their problems and abandon the relationship they've been cultivating. Just go full scorched earth.

And that hurts.

So instead the blonde softens his expression and climbs back into bed, onto the other man's lap to hug him tightly. "Fuck Marsh--" He's not about to let the media ruin another relationship. "I love you."

The responding hug is so tight it hurts but Colson doesn't stop. "I fucking love you."

They're falling back onto the bed, legs tangling and Colson's teeth grinding while he rubs his face along the older rapper's shoulder. "I love you"

He doesn't even know what else to say. Now that the words are out it's all his tongue can shape.

"Colson-" Marshall's warm palms are cupping his face, pulling him back so they can stare at eachother

"I love you-" that one hurts the most, maybe because they're eye to eye and just looking at Marshall's soft expression and the possibility of losing it makes him want to crumble. "Please-"

He chokes back a wet sound in the back of his throat before they kiss. Pressing as close as he can, practically trying to glue their mouths together permanently.

Marshall's afraid to lose him just as much. They're idiots for ever thinking it might be a possibilility.

The media can get blown, and so can the industry and their so called fans. The cats out of the bag now and theirs no turning back. If they don't like them together than tough shit. They've both dragged themselves up out of the pits before, this will be no different.

Except, this time they have eachother to lean on.

"I love you to you cornball."

(((Ffffff this sat in my drafts cuz I got distracted by work and life. Im so fucking sorry anon!!!)))

((Also! Thank you anon! For the compliments! Im glad you enjoy my works!))

[ddaenggtan]

lay me gently | ksj

there is no time for loneliness among the fires of your forge, no room in your buzzing mind for thoughts of anything but your next invention and the pain in your leg. your life is tilted off its axis, though, when your parents arrange a marriage without your knowledge or consent, and your new husband begins to situate himself into your life despite protests from either of you. you don’t know what zeus and hera have planned, but a volcano is no place for a love god like seokjin. | monsters and gods pt 2 (masterlist)

pairing | seokjin x reader

genre/warnings | greek god au, aphrodite!jin, hephaestus!reader, disabled!reader (kind of. more technically accurate would be chronic pain!reader. but thats a whole discussion that ur welcome to have with me), fluff, slight angst but not a ton, v brief allusions to violence but its purposefully vague, not so brief descriptions of physical injury, descriptions of chronic pain, cyclopes! everywhere! i use that word so many times!, smut, literally the most vanilla smut i’ve ever written there are only two warnings, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, there are mentions of a war god that is a dick but it is Not Ares i promise, everyone still hates zeus bc he sucks, this also features dionysus!jimin but only a little, 

word count | 12.9k | cross posted to ao3

a/n | this is the second installment of gods and monsters!! i was actually in the middle of writing from eden when i stumbled across a really fantastic blurb about retelling aphrodite’s story the way we’ve all collectively decided to retell persephone and hades, so that there are two decent fucking couples in greek mythology, and there were a lot of good comments on said blurb that made those last two braincells in my head run into each other and make an idea. and then i promptly opened a new doc and typed half of this and a vague summary before sleeping for longer than i should have! and i’m always weak for aphrodite jin bc i mean....look at him....man looks like he was sculpted by Michelangelo like who am i to deny the gods, y’know? and i figured that since i had olympian!reader in the last one, i’d continue that and have olympian!reader in this one, also i wanted an excuse to write from a hephaestus pov since i’ve loved that dumbass blacksmith since i was ten and wrote a greek history article in school. so here, have this aphrodite retelling!! | title from work song by hozier

It's hot. It's always hot here, the consequences of living inside a volcano, you suppose, but the callouses on your skin have long since made you immune to the burns. You glide down through the halls, an old habit since the day you crafted the wheels you attached to your sandals. No longer did you need to carry the awkward and hefty cane everywhere you went, or struggle to make your leg move the way you wanted it to. The invention of the wheel was one you were forever proud of. 

The forge is already blazing when you arrive, each of the hundred levels full of cyclopes all hammering away. Steam hisses and rises through the air, and you chance a glance at the lava bubbling miles below you. 

"Careful today," You call to the cyclops closest to you. "It looks like she's feeling the burn again. Raise the guards soon, and keep them up until she blows. No sense letting good work go to waste." The cyclops nods and barks an order out at others across the levels. You wheel yourself further along, the sound of the celestial bronze shields being brought up serving as background noise. You probably could have waited another day or so to raise them, if you were honest; cyclopes are fireproof, which is useful in a forge, and you yourself aren't likely to be taken out by a mere volcanic eruption. The work, though...heat like that could affect even the strongest of your creations, and everyone works much too hard here to have to reform every bolt, repour every blade. 

You valued your time too much for that. 

"You have a guest, my lady," one of your workers called. You look up from the notebook in your hands - soot-covered, bound in leather, edges singed, with bits of paper sticking every which way from the many times you've jotted something down for later and stuffed it inside quickly before tying the leather cords that bind it - and frown. The cyclops grimaces slightly. "It...seems to be Lord Zeus."

You scoff and spin yourself around to follow him to the elevator reluctantly. "Probably wants to commission another throne, the bastard. Should've stuck him to the last one, maybe he'd get it through his head that not everyone wants to fuck him." You wave a hand and your guide gives you a curt nod before returning to work. You settle yourself in the lift and flip the lever. It's not a long journey, thanks to the many improvements you've made over the years, but it still seems that too soon the grate is sliding back into the wall to allow you exit. 

You tap your heels together twice as you glide off the lift, already reaching for the cane that you keep there for situations like this. The soft clicks and whirs are nearly imperceptible as the wheels break themselves apart and regress into the hidden compartments in your soles. Your leg becomes dead weight once more, and you wince at the way it drags behind you. You've half a mind to curse whoever came to call on you this time; you hate walking, even if the charade is a necessary one. You're still contemplating the idea when you hobble into your entry to see Zeus himself, stoic and cold as he ever is. 

"My lord," You call, barely keeping the venom out of your voice as you do. Many would say it's the heat of the mountain making your blood boil, but you know the truth. Very little in the world sets you off like the man in front of you. 

He turns and fixes a blinding grin on you. "My dear Hephaestus!" You scoff at the title; no one has called you by your name in centuries, lest they inherit your lameness. "Wonderful to see you, truly. It's been too long since my last visit."

"Yes, four hundred years does seem to crawl by without you to grace the halls of my forge," You drawl. His eyes steel for a moment, your sarcasm not as lost on him as you'd hope, but it quickly passes. "Why are you here, my lord?"

"Well, you remember how I said I would owe you a favor?" Your eyes narrow and you nod. In the handful of times Zeus has repaid the hundreds of favors he owes, it's hardly ever been something positive. "I'm here to pay it! I brought you a gift."

"A gift, what-?" You don't get the chance to finish. Zeus has already waved forward a steward he brought along. Your heart aches for the boy as sweat drips down his body and his tunic is already singed. Your own leathers are slightly oppressive in the heat, but at least they don't catch fire. Zeus takes a scroll from the boy, harsh and rough, and shoves it into your hands. You unravel it quickly, your eyes darting across the words on the paper.

"A marriage?!" Your screech echoes throughout the mountain and the clanging of metal on metal pauses for a moment. "What am I supposed to do with a marriage, much less one to a-" You scan the paper again. "A love goddess?"

"Not a love goddess," He tuts. "The love goddess. Well. Love deity. Aphrodite is a beauty, you're lucky I could arrange such a thing." Your eyes strain against your skull, threatening to pop out with every word Zeus says. 

"What in all of Tartarus is a ‘love deity’ supposed to do in my forge?" You ask him. He scoffs and waves the question off as if it doesn't matter. Your hand twitches with the urge to throw him into the lava, and the only thing keeping you from doing exactly that is the pain striking through your leg - a bitter reminder of just what Zeus is capable of - and the knowledge that it wouldn't even kill him. 

"Your mother was adamant about this, Hephaestus." You echo his scoff at this; you're sure she was. "Aphrodite will arrive within the week. See to it that everything is fit for a god." He chuckles at his own joke, and a vision of your cane shoved through his skull implants itself in your brain. You force yourself to take in deep breaths. The scent of hot metals, sparks, and sulfur calms you, as it always has. 

"Fine," You say, though Zeus is already on his way out. "I'm not keeping anyone here against their will, though!" Your shout goes ignored, as you knew it would. You grumble under your breath and hobble back to the elevator. Within moments you're shooting down to your bedroom, large and situated close to the heart of the volcano. You don't bother to activate the wheels of your shoes, instead leaning on your cane until you get to your bed. 

The plush mattress and blankets are a relief on your aching hip and leg and you let yourself lean back and just relax for a moment. The notice is still clutched in your hand and you find yourself staring at the looping curves of Hera's signature, wondering what she's up to this time. 

Memories flood you before you can stop them; being a young godling in Olympus, attached and in awe of your mother as she led you around the city, light gleaming off the golden columns. Seeing the fire in Zeus' eyes the first time he struck her in front of you, and the blaze that came when you stepped in front of her. Starlight glinting off her silver robes as she cried in her garden. The bruising vice he kept on your calf, the feel of the winds against your skin as you fell, the way Helios painted the sky as you kept falling. The feel of a hammer in your hand for the first time, juxtaposed to the throbbing pain in your crippled leg every time you so much as twitched. 

The notice is across the room before you realize you've thrown it. You want to believe she isn't playing games; Hera has always been somewhat conniving, but your mother has never been outright cruel to you, not since the night you tried to save her from her husband, and she always had her reasons. You may not always agree with her reasons, but that didn't change the fact that she had them. Still, condemning an innocent person to a life here...condemning you to live your days with a constant reminder of your plainness, your deformity, wasn't something you expected from her. Zeus, yes, but not her. 

You let yourself fall back onto the bed, only to adjust a few moments later when the pressure on your hip becomes too much. You're angled now, weight resting on your good side to alleviate even a bit of the pain from the other. It was the only way you could get a moment's peace since your fall, the only time the pain lessened. 

You allow yourself five breaths. Five breaths to let the tear slip down your cheek, drawing its path through the soot and the smoke. Four to let your breath shake in your chest and shudder in the air. Three for the ache in your hip to disappear completely, so you are blessedly free from your pain for once. Two for the thorns to tighten impossibly around your heart and let it bleed for you. One for the hole in your chest, shaped like a loving father and a true family that doesn't constantly commission weapons from you to throw at each other.

Pain arcs through your leg once more and you wince. Your hand massages the muscles there absentmindedly; it provides no relief to anything but your mind. You stand and click your heels together once more, glad when the wheels are stable once more. In seconds, you're off, flying through hallways to get to your workshop. 

You've got work to do. 

It's nearly the entire week later when one of the workers knocks on the door of your workshop. 

"Aphrodite has arrived, my lady." You wave at him and he disappears back into the mass of his brothers. It doesn't take you long to get to the entryway, rolling through the halls until you're just outside the large bronze doors. You retract your wheels and grasp your cane, reminding yourself that the more people thought Zeus had crippled you debilitatingly, the better. Your hip aches again and you tune it out in favor of tapping the end of your cane against a small hammer at the base of the doors. There's a quiet whir as they slide open, and you limp forward as best you can. 

The foyer is packed with people, cyclopes everywhere with bags slung over their shoulder, forest nymphs tapping at their smoking roots, naiads hissing with steam. In the midst of everything stands two still figures, one infinitely more familiar than the other. 

"I thought I told you that the next time you step foot in my forge, I'd stoke my fires with your bones." Your voice is loud as it reverberates across the walls. Both figures turn to look at you, but your glare doesn't falter. 

"Aw, are you still mad about that?" His smile is deceptively innocent. "You never would've gotten her off that throne otherwise." 

"It wasn't supposed to be her throne in the first place, was it?" You spit back as you make your way to him. It doesn't escape your notice that everyone but the cyclopes is staring at you, and you're glad the heat from the mountain keeps you flushed. You can't show weakness in front of this crowd, you can't let them know that you know they think you're below them. 

You can't let them know that in your worst moments, you agree. 

"Get the fuck out of my mountain, Dionysus, before I throw you out."

"Ooh, take after your old man a little too much there, don't you?" Jimin's smile never leaves his face and you resist the urge to smack it with your cane. Instead, you tighten your grip on it and take a breath. 

"What are you doing here?" You eventually ask through gritted teeth. 

"Just escorting a dear, dear friend." His grin has turned predatory as he rests a hand on his companion's shoulder. "My dear Hephaestus, I'd like to introduce you to Aphrodite." You glance over, looking the man up and down briefly. 

He's taller than you - though, with your pained hunch, many are. His shoulders are almost as wide as his eyes as he looks around the room, taking in the granite walls and bronze moldings. His clothes aren't practical in the least; soft and sweet and flowing linens in a pale lilac that complements the purple of his hair. It's a stark contrast to the harsh reds and greys of your soot-stained leathers. When he finally looks at you, his eyes are the same color as the grease you use to oil your inventions and give you no clue to his thoughts.

He's fucking beautiful and it brings a sob to your throat.

"It's...a pleasure." He looks you up and down, not unlike you did him, but whatever conclusions he makes, he says nothing. 

"Your quarters are on the fifth floor," You reply in lieu of an actual greeting. "Delius will show you the way. Be careful, or you're likely to lose your head. Keep a cyclops with you while you learn your way around, they can get anywhere." The god looks surprised, though you aren't sure why, and you turn. "They'll see to your meals and needs, as well, so if you find yourself wanting, just let one know. I'll have a key made soon, so you can come and go as you wish." 

Aphrodite starts to say something as you walk away, leg dragging slightly behind you as you go. Jimin seems to cut him off, though, already asking for wine. 

"And get that bastard out of my forge!" You yell over your shoulder. "If he's still here when I get to the lift, I'm throwing him to the pit." 

There's scrambling behind you as the doors close. You feel a twinge of regret; the love god has done nothing to you, you could have given him even the slightest chance. The memory of his eyes as he looked at you flashes in front of you and you lean against the wall for support. No love god would want to associate with someone like you. He is beauty and elegance, a practiced dance in a moonlit gazebo, and you…

You are a mistake, cast from your home and crippled for all to see exactly what happens when you get in Zeus' way. 

You take a breath and let the heat from the stone wall soothe the pain in your hip as much as it will before you set off for your workshop.

Seokjin isn't quite sure what to do with himself that night. His friends - suitors - have all gone, unable to bear the heat of the mountain for more than a brief goodbye, and Jimin was quick to go when the cyclopes started for him. What the story there is, he doesn't know. He doesn't know anything, as a matter of fact. 

He doesn't know why Hera pushed so hard to have him wed to Hephaestus. He doesn't know why the girl was so cold at their first meeting. He doesn't know why she seemed so normal. Most people he met fell to their knees within moments, desperate to please him and showering him with vain compliments that used to sound like music in his ears. Most were insistent in their offers to him, throwing out their bodies and souls and anything else they thought he might want, just for a single glance from him. He used to laugh as he blew them kisses, delighted by their mindless adoration. 

Used to. 

He doesn't delight in such things anymore. Centuries have passed, and still, not a single one of the people and creatures that fought to stand in his presence cared about him. All of them saw Aphrodite, god of love and fertility, beauty and passion. They vied for just one night with him, fighting wars to win his hand, throwing whole festivals across Greece for his blessing. It was and would always be an honor. He is beautiful and is thankful for it, but…

Just once, he would like to be beautiful as Seokjin instead of Aphrodite. Would like the people attempting to woo him to hear the words he speaks instead of merely listening to the musicality of his voice. Would like to be believed, trusted, valued for something other than his face. Seokjin has a mind, a creative, capable mind that has - more than once - developed solutions to issues plaguing the mortals, only for him to be brushed to the side while the smart ones figured things out. 

He hates it, just like he hates that Hera sprung this on him without so much as a warning. One day he'd been lounging in her garden, the one place he could find some reprieve from the hordes of suitors, and talking to Artemis about her life as a maiden, and the next, Zeus thrust a marriage certificate into his hands and told him to be packed by the end of the week. 

And now his wife doesn't even care to look at him. You're not entranced like everyone else. The stories have grossly exaggerated your looks; he was prepared to look upon a monster, not a woman, pained and covered in soot with a limp. Still, there had been no emotion in your gaze, not even an ounce of the hatred or disgust he may have dreaded in his journey to this volcano. 

Nor do you care to dine with him, clearly. He's been sat at a scorched rocky table longer than three of him, by himself, for nearly two hours. Olympus has spoiled him, clearly, or perhaps it's that your own manners are lacking. In the skies, everyone dines together, lounging on cushions and waiting until Zeus and Hera arrive before digging into the food presented to them. It's respectful, a way to honor the hosts of the home. Even there, however, he would not be kept waiting for more than ten minutes.

"You, there," He eventually calls to a cyclops in the corner, polishing goblets that likely haven't been touched in centuries. It turns to fix its eye on him, and Seokjin represses the instinctive shudder. "When does Hephaestus intend on dining tonight?"

"Apologies, my lord, but the lady has her dinner served in her workshop." Seokjin frowns at that and the cyclops continues. "She stays there most hours of the day, takes her meals there to ensure she makes the most of each day to create her inventions and improve upon her current ones."

Seokjin huffs and debates with himself for a moment. It would be rude to eat without his hostess present, but if you had your meals delivered elsewhere there was little chance you'd bother to come to the dining hall. He couldn't possibly go to your workshop to dine with you either; the cyclops could show him the way, yes, but he would no doubt be intruding on things he had no business being near, even as your husband. 

He spews out a slew of curses that make the cyclops in the corner blush and digs into a roll. He would simply have to eat alone tonight, and perhaps if he catches you tomorrow, he can request your presence at meals. 

You don't see Aphrodite again until the next evening. 

You've almost forgotten anyone else lives in the mountain you call home, still used to being on your own besides the cyclopes. Roniah had informed you that morning that the god inquired as to your whereabouts the previous night during his supper, and the slightest bit of guilt shoots through you. You should have joined him if only for a moment to be polite, but you'd gotten entranced in your latest designs. Your own food had been taken away in the wee hours of the morning, stale and unwanted. It was commonplace, but you need to at least be polite to your husband. 

You sink deeper into the steaming water around you, rubbing away the last bits of soot and grease as you ponder. The hot water is heaven on your aches, the warmth seeping through and relaxing them into painlessness. You don't allow yourself the luxury of bathing often, usually just wiping yourself clean every so often when the remnants of your work become too thick on your skin or the ache in your bones is too much to ignore. It's a nice reprieve, though, one you bask in each time. The water is close to boiling, comfortable and warm for a goddess such as yourself, and the steam makes it difficult to see much of anything. 

You've long since come to terms with your life; you aren't beautiful, you won't ever walk without pain again, you won't be the daughter your parents wanted. But it's moments like these that you let yourself pretend, if only for a moment. Pretend you weren't thrown from your home. Pretend your leg isn't covered in scars from where the rocks of Olympus sliced it open. Pretend you're the same woman you were all those years ago, clutching at your mother's skirts as Zeus thundered towards her. 

Your head starts to spin and you stand, clumsily making your way out of the pool and to the stone bench where your linen towel waits. You slip your robes over your shoulders and sigh at the softness of them. The black linen you keep here was woven by Ariadne herself, enchanted by Athena and dipped in the fires of your forge to withstand the heat. It allows for a slight breeze as you move into your bedroom, not bothering to tie the material closed completely so it hangs limp on your shoulders, torso exposed. Your skin is overheated from the water and you enjoy the way the air cools you just slightly as you sit on your bed.

You don't think anything of it until a throat clears behind you and you whip your head around to see Aphrodite standing just inside your door. 

"Apologies, my lady. Horedon did not mention you were indisposed when I asked him to show me to your quarters." His voice is pleasant, soft and gentle. It matches his image and makes you acutely aware of how loud you always are, always must be in order to be heard over the forges.

"It's an honest mistake," You say eventually, tugging your robes tighter around you. "What do you need? As I said, the cyclopes are more than capable-"

"I wanted to extend my gratitude, actually." You can't even be mad he cut you off, too surprised by his words. "You and your workers have been very kind in the day that I've been here, and I appreciate that. I know that this isn't exactly something we had planned."

You nod in understanding. Pain flares in your leg once more and you massage the muscle out of habit. "Are your quarters to your liking? I did my best to position you high enough that the heat from the magma wouldn't be too overbearing, but not high enough that the forge smoke would choke you. Ah, and your bed also has a screen function built in to help to filter the air, so it may be more like what you're used to."

"Thank you, it's lovely. Delius showed me yesterday, it felt very much like Hera's garden." If he notices your flinch at the words, he doesn't say anything. "Listen, Hephaestus, I know neither of us may have wanted this, but I think we should make the most of this. We can at least be civil. If you would, your company at dinner would be most welcome." You stare at him, a laugh bubbling up in your throat that you can't stop. He looks baffled upon hearing it and it takes you a full minute to calm down enough to speak. 

"Thank you for inviting me to dine at my own table, Aphrodite," you say with an amused smile. "I shall do my best to attend, should I find myself near the hall." His ears turn a lovely shade of pink as he inclines his head in a small bow and leaves. You laugh again once he's gone. The entire situation is too hysterical for you. 

You, a plain and hobbled smith, are married to a love god who is beauty personified, who has already taken it upon himself to invite you to dine at your dinner table with him. You really should have expected him to pull something like this; already comfortable enough to show up unannounced in your private chambers and issue invitations and probably demands of your workers. You're not sure why Hera has banished him here; he's so much like her, he should be a favorite, and yet she must hate him if she's sentenced him to live here for the rest of existence. 

With a sigh you settle back into your bed, pillows supporting the weight of your bad leg and sheets thrown haphazardly around you. 

You don't expect to sleep, so when you wake, you're disoriented. You're not sure how long you were out, but it seems to have been a while based on the hunger that gnaws at your stomach. You click your heels and wheel your way to the kitchens, rubbing at your eyes to clear the sleep from them. 

You're focused when you enter the kitchen and give a curt wave to the mass of cyclopes situated around the island. It isn't until you're done making your gyro that you turn, deliciousness only a bite away and lock eyes with Aphrodite.

He looks radiant, as always; the pale yellow cloth drapes along his form in a most appealing way, and there's an amused smirk playing over his lips. His hair is still that soft purple, but it's faded some. 

"It's nice to see you again, wife," He says with an incline of his head. "It's been a while since anyone's seen you roaming through the halls." You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you lean back against the counter, wheels dig into the stone underneath your feet. 

"Yes, well, I was resting. Nothing strange about that, is there?" His lips quirk in a knowing smile and he shares a glance with the cyclops to his right. You notice for the first time how soft his mouth looks, pillowy and full, and you absently wonder how many have felt those lips against their skin. 

"Eat up, my lady," Aphrodite says eventually. "After a week-long nap, I expect you need it. Zeus dropped by a few days ago to deliver his wedding gift, it's waiting in your workshop. I've already commissioned a new necklace for Hera as thanks."

You frown, stuffing the gyro in your mouth. It was one thing to learn that you've been asleep for a week - not uncommon, for a god, but useful knowledge - but to know that Zeus stopped by without waking you, and that Aphrodite has been running things in your stead… You glance quickly around, noting the way each cyclops in the room is turned toward the love god as if they had all been deep in conversation before you arrived, and the sprawling mass of gems and stones atop the island in front of them. 

"You're commissioning the cyclopes for jewelry now?" You eventually ask. He nods. 

"They truly have an eye for detail," He says, a cheeky grin growing on his face. The cyclopes look amused, a couple even laughing outright, and you stifle a sigh at the terrible joke. "And I had no idea that these gems are so common here. The quality is astounding, honestly, I only ever see it in the gems on Olympus."

"That's because the stones on Olympus are from here," you tell him. Your eyes rake over him and he seems...happier than last you saw him. The soft light from the magma tunnels highlights his features beautifully, only enhancing the natural beauty, and there are gems decorating his hands and wound tight around his throat in a choker. More than that, though, he looks peaceful, relaxed. His muscles are relaxed as he sits among the one-eyed giants, a smile never far from his face, and they make conversation with him easily, despite their usual hesitance to be around any of the other gods. It warms you to see them so at ease around someone other than yourself.

"Well, if it's for Hera, it must be the best. Get me the designs, Aphrodite, and if there's anything else-"

"Seokjin."

"Hm?" You turn, already halfway to the door. 

"Seokjin is my chosen name. Please, you don't need to keep using my title." 

"Oh." Your eyes must be as wide as saucers as you stare at him, but the soft grin on his face doesn't falter in the least. "Alright then, Seokjin."

"We'll get you the designs when we're done, then, Hephaestus." You nod a little at his words and roll yourself away from the kitchens. It isn't until you get to your workshop that you realize you never gave him your own name.

Seokjin is...confused, to say the least. 

The stories on Olympus about your mountain forge are varied and extravagant, but they all seem to agree on the basics. The mountain is a terrible place to live, always filled with soot and impossible to navigate and as hideous as its master. The cyclopes are unfriendly and outright rude to everyone, if not openly hostile, likely because they are forced into servitude. The forge goddess that rules over the volcano is as violent and temperamental as the mountain itself, liable to explode at any moment after being cast out of Olympus for her own hubris. You're said to be cold and unfeeling and cruel, whipping any cyclops that doesn't do what you say when you say and beating the others into submission as you forge more and more powerful weapons for Zeus, your punishment for daring to stand against him.

Seokjin was finding more and more that none of those things were true. 

Yes, there is soot everywhere, but a simple wash and blessing upon his clothes keep them clean and beautiful. The mountain itself is a bit harsher than what he usually would consider beautiful, but the crystal mines glow with the magma behind them, lighting the walls with a myriad of colors, and the soft light in the palace does wonders for his looks, not to mention the way the ash and charcoal have helped his complexion. The halls are winding and strange, but following the system of bells and strings that he's seen messages shooting along means that even when lost, he can easily find a cyclops to help him to where he's going. Said cyclopes were unfriendly that first day, but now? They were nice beings, each one enthusiastic about the things they create and excited to be there, especially now that there's another person to talk to. They warmed to Seokjin fairly quickly after he asked what they were making; some kind of automaton, apparently, and when he asked what it was supposed to do, how it works, each eye lit up with glee as they began to explain it to him.

And you.

You are not violent at all. Every time you look at one of your workers, it is with friendship and happiness, and while you are easily distracted and yes, a bit temperamental, you are ultimately kind. He wants for nothing, everything he could ask for is given almost as soon as the words leave his mouth, he is free to come and go as he wishes, which is more than can be said for some of the other gods he's met. You have been unfailingly kind in the wake of your marriage to him. Everything he's witnessed, from the way you rushed to stamp out a flare at the bottom of his robes one day to the way you held a cyclops in your arms as he sobbed for a brother who had been lost to the sea, nothing has shown him that you are anything like what the Olympians say. You are frequently absent, locked away in your workshop for days at a time and leaving him to his own devices, but even that is a breath of fresh air. For so long, he's been surrounded by people - gods, nymphs, mortals, anyone and everyone all vying for his attention because he's beautiful and elegant, stealing precious moments of solitude where he can, and now he has as much as he desires. It makes him want to cry, he's so thankful for it. 

He's only left a few times, determined to visit Hera and see the few friends he keeps - Dionysus is always glad to see him, odd enough, and loves to hear his tales of life under the mountain. Each time he leaves, however, he's swarmed. Not always immediately, but it's as if the world can sense his return, and they come in droves, all to catch a glimpse of his beauty. It's exhausting and overwhelming now that he's had so much time on his own, which is the exact reason he doesn't leave very often. The worst of them is an especially willful war god, who Seokjin swears has been camping outside the volcano to know the second he leaves to visit a friend because the man is on him in a heartbeat and refuses to leave him alone. 

It's irritating and the way the man looks at him leaves him uncomfortable for days after he returns. He has half a mind to ask a cyclops to start accompanying him out, but even Seokjin knows better than to bring one of them to Olympus; Zeus would strike the gentle being down in a heartbeat just for daring to step where the gods live. 

He ponders what else he can do as he wanders the halls of the mountain, a habit at this point. He's been here weeks, each day better than the last, and still hasn't explored the entire place. He's on the lowest level now, heat scorching the hair on his arms and sandals blackened with ash. There's been quite a clamor down here somewhere for the past few days, and he's curious to see what project is being hammered out. 

He doesn't expect to turn a corner, walk past an open door, and see you, wheeling frantically around a large room, papers tucked in all sorts of pockets on your overalls, hair wild, face covered in soot. He watches, fascinated as you screech to a halt beside a large worktable, rifling through paper after paper before finally finding whatever it is you're looking for, only to push yourself to the other side of the room to pull a steaming piece of celestial bronze out of a pail. You look harried and distracted, not even having noticed him yet, and it…

It's honestly beautiful. 

He's always loved seeing beauty like this; the sheer, unfiltered rawness of creativity and passion. The way you and others lost themselves in their work, blind to everything but the vision in their heads, forgoing sleep and food and everything else in favor of making something out of nothing. It's beauty in its most naked form; the naked truth of being real, in the fleeting moments of existence, and Seokjin lives for it. It's his personal favorite of all the beauty in the world, and you encapsulate it better than anyone he's ever met. 

It's also beyond fascinating to watch you roll around on the wheels attached to your sandals. He can't help but wonder what it's like, to not have to take step after step and instead just roll through the slightly slanted halls of the mountain. 

"Did you make those?" He regrets the words almost immediately, reaching in futility to catch you as you turn and trip over a pail set just too far in your path for you to dodge. "I'm so sorry, I should have announced myself. I don't mean to keep startling you." 

"It's fine," you groan, though the hand on your hip is white-knuckled and your teeth are gritted. "I should have been paying more attention." He strides over and helps you to your feet, not missing the way you lean on him for support until you can sit on the now-overturned pail. "What did you need?"

"Oh, nothing, I was just exploring. Those, on your feet, though. You made them?" He smiles at your nod, however hesitant it is, and settles on the ground beside you to get a better look. "They're amazing. This compartment here, are they retractable?" You click your heels together in response, and Seokjin watches with wide eyes as the discs fold themselves up and slide into the soles of your sandals. "Amazing. Can you make me a pair?"

"You...you aren't going to tell Zeus, are you?" Your voice is the most unsure he's heard it, and he frowns.

"Why would I do that?"

"I don't know, I just...he wouldn't really be happy if he knew I made these. Since I'm supposed to be suffering and everything, and they make it...not as terrible."

Seokjin scoffs. "No, I won't tell Zeus. You really do have to make me a pair, though, these are amazing. What else have you made?" Your eyes are wide when he looks back up at you, but you quickly pull papers out of your pockets to hand them over. 

"Well, this is my current schematic. I've just got to figure out how to get it to work."

"Is this...is this a person?"

"Kind of. The muses asked for some kind of...enhancement that would let them be heard in more places at once. So I've created this," You point to the left-most figure, which could only be Calliope. "Which is going to essentially absorb whatever the muse is doing, and then these," You run your finger along the other eight figures, each distinct but still matching overall, "Will distribute that to wherever they are. I've got a good basis for the visual representation, I think, and the audio system should be fine, but the issue I've been having is that I can't seem to get it to all...click."

"So you've got the transmitting figured out?"

"Yeah, that part was easy. And I built the miniatures, and they've been working fine, but I can't get the full sized ones to work correctly. I've smelted them down at least five times just to rebuild them." Seokjin stares at the papers in his hands, trying to make sense of the little scratches of handwriting that dart on and off the papers. He shakes his head, and pulls back, squinting.

"This may be a stupid question," He starts, looking at the front and side views you've drawn out, "But did you account for the weight?" You're silent for a long while, and when he looks up, you're gaping at him. "Sorry, of course you did, that was dumb."

"The fucking weight," You mutter. You're off in a flash, pulling the papers out of his hands to throw them down on a workbench and start scrawling again. "Because it wouldn't affect the smaller models since they use less material, but the full-size automatons would have the pressure which would affect the-" You start whispering to yourself, too rushed and quiet for him to make sense of, but he softens as he watches you go. He pulls the pail out of the way and sets it back against the wall before settling in on top of it.

He stays there for what feels like hours, watching as you pour adamantine into the molds and weld parts together and breathe that spark of life into the core of Calliope's automaton counterpart. He doesn't dare to breathe as you watch, hope clear in your eyes. Then the whirring starts and the automaton assumes a very Calliope-like pose, and you actually start to laugh and jump up and down. He can't keep the smile from his face, but he's satisfied now that he knows you're happy, so he moves to leave.

He's stopped by your voice, softer than he expected it over the hissing of the dying forge. He turns and you repeat your name. It sounds awkward on your lips, like you haven't said it in so long that your voice has forgotten what it sounds like, but you're smiling at him and you have soot on your face and he has to resist the urge to wipe it off. He echoes you quietly, and he thinks he's never heard a name more beautiful and fitting for someone like you.

Later, as he sinks into the steaming water of his rooms to wash the soot from his skin, he surprises himself. For the first time in his life, he wishes he wasn't a love god not for the unwanted attention, but because now he knows. He knows this feeling blossoming in his chest, and he knows how it mirrors that spark in your own heart. He can sense it, can feel it in the air as if it had actual weight to it, and he just...knows. He knows that you don't know what this is, that you probably will never realize what he feels, that you'll brush off your own feelings as some reluctant fondness while he can feel every step you take further into the magic of love.

And he won't be able to do anything to keep himself from falling in love with you and you won't ever be able to see that.

You've been locked in your workshop for days, putting the finishing touches on the Muses' automatons and adding the decorative bits you know they'll love. You haven't slept in twice as long, food even further from your mind, as it usually is when you get into one of your projects. It's a shock when Seokjin returns to your workshop balancing several trays of food and drink. You hold a strange fondness for him, unable to resist after he'd pointed out something so obvious in your designs. Anyone that could help you with your designs was worth at least knowing a little, you figure, but you never expected him to keep coming back.

And yet here is, directing three cyclopes to set cushions and blankets and all manner of soft, plush bedding on the ground just inside the door of your workshop. You gawk, wondering just how much nerve he has to be doing this and also what possible reason he thinks is good enough to disrupt you. 

"You need to eat," He says when he notices you staring at him. "Besides, you're basically finished with them, and you need sustenance and rest if I'm going to get my awesome wheel shoes." You refrain from mentioning that you've already got them made; you don't want to encourage him too much. Pelion gives you a look as he exits the room and you huff. Just because they spend centuries here, they think they can tell you when to take breaks and eat. Typical cyclops. 

You grumble as you wheel yourself to the mass of cushions Seokjin has created, but you quiet at the way it does ease the soreness in your leg. As good as you've become at drowning out the pain, the steady onslaught to your nerves has been fraying your attention more than you'll admit. 

Seokjin sits after you have and presents the food with a flourish. It all looks delicious, much better than the hasty gyros and wraps you put together, and your mouth waters. He very kindly does not mention how disgusting you must look as you begin to dig in, instead talking about a recent trip he'd taken to see Dionysus.

His tone eventually catches your attention more than his words. "Wait," You stop him, slurping down some ambrosia. "Back up. Someone's stalking you?"

"I...don't think I'd call it stalking, exactly. I don't think he's going to do anything, either, it's all just talk, but...well. It's still frustrating when I'm just trying to visit friends." 

"No, if it's bothering you, then it's an issue, then it needs to end. Tell me everything." And Seokjin does. From how the war god waits for him, either outside the mountain or outside Olympus, spends every moment Seokjin is gone following him around and saying some truly crude things. All of it makes your blood boil - Seokjin is kind, to the point that even the cyclopes love him, which is rare, and he gets harassed enough apparently without some god running around hitting on him constantly. 

The rumors, though. The rumors are what get you seeing red. It's no secret on Olympus that this was an arranged marriage; they aren't uncommon among gods, and they aren't usually a scandal, but yours apparently is. Seokjin hesitates when he tells you about them, and you nearly break your fork in your effort to keep your rage from him. All sorts of stories, from you abusing him, forcing things he isn't comfortable with, keeping him chained up, feeding him pieces of your cyclopes, that you had bought him from Zeus with promises of gifts from the forge. Each is as terrible as the last, and all of them have your stomach rolling, and Seokjin reluctantly explains that he believes the war god to be the source of most of them. 

"Well," You say, violently spearing a grape. "That must be stopped, immediately. I refuse to allow people to think of you like that, it's utterly disrespectful." You wobble to your feet and roll over to the wall of ideas you hadn't managed to get around to yet. "What do you think? Maiming? Or is that too quick? I've got a truly brilliant idea for a bull, it could eat him if I use the right materials. It'd take at least a hundred years for him to get out of that."

"Well," Seokjin eventually says. You turn to look at him, excitement bright in your eyes. The wheels in his brain are turning and he's got a fondness on his face as he lounges on pillows and cushions; it melts your heart. He looks every bit the love god he is, and something in you wants to sob at the thought. "I would say, personally, if he's going to embarrass us in such a public way, then it should only really be fair to embarrass him in such a way." He tosses the knife in his hand and it embeds itself in one of the papers on your wall. You ignore the throb of arousal that runs through you, looking instead at the design he's chosen. 

"Oh," You whisper. Ideas are already running rampant in your mind. "Yes, I think this could be a very good plan." 

Seokjin is in stitches when he next sees you, clutching at his sides as his laughter echoes through your workshop. The sight of his harasser in your net as he spouted off a variety of kinks that made even Zeus blush, in the middle of the golden city with all of the gods around him isn't one Seokjin is likely to forget. 

"I still don't understand how you did it," He says, calming slightly as he wipes tears from his eyes. "How did you weave such a net, and how did you enchant it to make him say such things?"

"It wasn't much," You say. Your smile is beautiful, a treasure rarer than all the gems that he wears and more valuable than anything he's come across. He wants to wear it, wants you to keep smiling like that, with such pride in your work and happiness radiating from you. "...and then Arachne wove it all together." He nods as if he'd heard the rest of what you said. Part of him feels guilty for not listening; it really is fascinating, how you craft such wonderful things out of such pedestrian supplies.

"You're amazing," He says. He doesn't mean to, but it's true. Even now, as you lean against your workbench, fingers digging into the skin of your hip without even realizing you're doing it, smile slowly fading into something else - something more - you are radiant. Soot across your face and wheels on your shoes and the kindest heart he's ever seen in a goddess, and he wants you like no one else. There has always been beauty in creation, always been love in inspiration, and you are the ultimate mix of the two, painted over with enough cunning and determination to keep at your work no matter what. 

He steps closer to you, slowly, and brings a hand up to wipe at the soot on your cheek. It smears under his thumb and your breath hitches in the most attractive way.

It's unbearably attractive, honestly, and it makes an ache swell within him that goes deeper than the physical. He wants to keep you smiling like that, wants to watch you work and bring you gyros and cart you to a hot bath on a bad day. He can see it, all of it, splayed in front of him as clear as if he were an Oracle. He'd waltz into your workshop and pepper you with kisses before pulling you out after him. Your wheels would squeak along the stone floor but you wouldn't complain even as he settles you in hot water and makes you forget your pain as he asks about your newest designs and creations. He can see it, and it's beautiful, and he wants it so bad that it hurts. 

Almost as much as it hurts when your face falls, expression closing off into the same passive coolness that greeted him when he first arrived. You slide your way around him and turn to face another worktable. It hurts, the way you won't look at him, and moves something deep and primal inside him. It urges him to go on, to trap you against that table and make you open up to him, make sure you know that you can trust him to satisfy you.

He stamps it down with a long breath. 

"Well," He says, pointedly ignoring your shaky breathing. "Thank you, again, for helping me. I suppose I'll see you around."

"You don't need to thank me, Seokjin," You say. Your voice is tight and your hands twitch and he wants to kiss you until the pain is gone forever. He doesn't. "You're my husband, I was only doing what was right."

"Still," He says, "It means more to me than you know."

You don't respond, and he leaves before you can. He doesn't want you to, doesn't want to hear the reluctant rejection spill from your lips when he knows. He's a love god, he knows when someone is in love, can feel in the air and taste it on his tongue. He knows that scent better than his own face and your workroom was suffocating with it. 

He has no doubt that some was his own; he knows this fluttering in his chest, the rolling of his stomach, the spark of lightning dancing along his skin. He knows. 

But he can smell the hesitation, too. Can see the way you fight the feeling, in every aborted reach for his hand and each averted gaze when he looks at you. You love him, he's so sure of it, but you don't want to be.

And he cannot force you to change your mind about that. He won't. He just isn't sure how long he can last without telling you that he loves you, too.

Curses spill from your lips as you glide cautiously through the hallways. You've grown too complacent, comfortable around your husband. You very nearly slipped the other day, were a hair's breadth from throwing caution to the wind and kissing him; it was a miracle you caught yourself. He'd just looked so happy. The smile, that laugh, everything about him was just glowing in the light of your workshop, and then he'd complimented you. 

It's been decades since someone complimented your work like that, and none of them had done so with that look in their eyes. The gentle warmth, the fondness, the glow.

The love.

That was what startled you out of your thoughts, the sheer love that radiated from him. That was what made you push him away. It's what has kept you from seeing him for nearly a week, turning on your heel and going the other direction when you spot him. You can't handle love.

Not just because you've never known such an emotion, not just because you've never had anyone look at you that way, but because...he's a love god. A man like Seokjin surely falls in love every day with each passing stranger that catches his eye, and you...don't. You've never felt this before, you've never had someone love you, you don't know how it works, and worse, you can't figure it out. 

You can't take love apart and look at each gear and cog and spring until you can piece it back together into a whole again. You can't observe and tinker and improve on something like love. Clouds and lightning? Simple mediums. Celestial bronze? Malleable as clay under your hands. But love? No, that was something utterly foreign to you. 

You drop to your bed and pull your leg up beside you to inspect the wheel. It's cracked, badly, and it's a shock that it survived long enough to get you to your room. You lean closer and flinch at the stabbing pain that rolls through you. It's a stark reminder of yet another reason you don't belong with Seokjin. A god like him has almost definitely lain with the most beautiful in all creation; he surrounds himself with only the finest gems, the softest cloth, the richest wine. He only accepts the best. 

You are far from being the best. Mutilated and scarred, left to limp around your mountain in solitude. You're past acceptance of your pain and the scars that mark your skin, you don't really care much that they exist anymore most days. Life could be easier without them, but would you have become the person you are today without them? You wouldn't have been so determined to find an easier way around, you wouldn't have worked for days on the wheeled sandals, you wouldn't have discovered your passion for creating. 

You wouldn't be in pain, though. And maybe, just...maybe, Seokjin would find you beautiful. As beautiful as the twinkling stones around his throat and the flowing silks across his chest. Beautiful enough to stay beneath this mountain in the smoke and heat, to press his pillow-soft lips against yours, to love without abandon. Now, though, with your scars and pain and awkward gait, you find yourself doubting what you saw. It could have been love, yes, but how likely is that? A love god forced to live in a suffocating cave, wed to the laughingstock of the pantheon. It's more likely that he's attached himself to the nearest person that shows him any affection, despite how desperately you want him to really feel something for you.

Three succinct knocks on the door of your room jar you away from the thought.

"Come in," You call. You wish you were more surprised to see Seokjin, purple hair prettily faded and matching the soft lavender cloth that drapes from his shoulders. 

"Can I have a few minutes of your time, Hephaestus?" He hasn't used your title since you told him your name, and it hurts to hear it now. Cements the fact that you are too different.

You nod, and the pain in your hip keeps you from moving away when he comes to kneel before you. 

"I love you," He says matter-of-factly. "I've let you avoid me this past week because it's not my place to force these feelings on you, but the stench of heartbreak is too much now. It just lingers in the halls and it's starting to seep into my clothes and if it keeps up, I might have to double my skincare routine because it soaks into my pores. So I love you. A lot more than I ever expected to, and probably more than I've ever loved anything in my life."

You gape at him. "What...why…what?"

"You are creative and cunning and petty and inventive and intelligent and determined and it's so beautiful," He says. There's not an ounce of hesitation in his face, and it steals the words from your throat. "I love you, and I need you to know that so you stop stinking up the forge with your angst and heartbreak. I understand if you don't want to be with me-"

"What heartbreak, what-"

"Well, I don't actually," Jin continues, ignoring your protests. "I'm really quite the catch and to deny yourself of me when you love me this much would be an entirely new and advanced form of masochism, but nevertheless, I will accept your rejection, however inane and ill-advised it may be, because it is, ultimately, your choice. You can tell me to go, and I will, and you won't ever know I'm here again. But, if you accept this, then…"

He trails off and his eyes soften impossibly as he wraps his hands around yours. You've never believed people could communicate so much with just a single look, but you're proven wrong by the sheer emotion in his gaze. Your name falls from his lips, and it's never sounded so nice to your ears.

"If you accept, then I swear to you, I will spend every hour of every day ensuring you feel loved. I will bring you food when you forget to eat, I will tidy your workshop when you can't find anything, I will carry you wherever you need to go when the pain is too much to bear." One hand moves to rest along your hip, warmth distracting you from the stab of pain that ghosts through it. "I will be everything and anything that you need, always and forever, and I won't let another moment pass with you thinking otherwise."

He looks at you with expectation in his eyes, and you...can't speak. There are no words for what you're feeling; the sureness of his love warring with the anxiety of not being worth it. You open your mouth several times to respond and find that you can't; of all the words flying around in your mind, none of them make it out. He waits, for longer than you would have, before he sighs and nods. 

"That's fine. Love is complicated even at the best of times." He stands, and the loss of his hands on you feels like part of you is being ripped away. "If you ever change your mind, let me know." 

His smile is sad as he leaves, and the clink of the door behind him is the last nail in the coffin. Something wet and warm hits your hand, and you realize you're crying. When did you start crying? You struggle to your feet, rolling wildly across the room before you gain your balance. 

The door swings open as you shove past it, the last bit of his purple robes turning the corner, and you shove off the wall to gain speed. You can't let him go. The knowledge surges through you with surety you've never felt, and it feels like there's a timer above your head, counting down to the moment you lose him forever. His name echoes through the halls, even though you don't remember calling it, and you speed around a corner to him. 

He's half turned to face you already, about to head down another hall since this one dead ends, and it's as you go to brake that you remember the cracked wheel. There is no braking, you're lucky you've made it so far, but you're at top speed right now and there's no time.

"Don't-" is all you can get out before you're crashing into him, wincing as he falls down to the hard ground and the wheel splits in half beneath you. The pain comes an instant later, too much weight too suddenly, and it would bring tears to your eyes if you didn't fight them down. 

"Wow," Jin says after a second. "You really did fall for me, didn't you?" His laughter drowns out your groan, but it's worth it for the way he's smiling at you. 

"I…" You hesitate, unsure of the words. He waits, patient and relaxed even as he adjusts you to sit on his lap instead of the rock. "I do. I want this."

"I know," He says with a grin. "It's nice to hear you say it, though." He doesn't flinch at the smack you give his shoulder, just presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"I swear to all the gods, Seokjin, if you don't stop, I'm going to put this discus through your skull."

"Ooh, please do. I hear that's how Athena was born."

"Seriously?"

"You're right, we don't need anyone else like that running around." 

You let your tools fall to the table in front of you and spin around to face your husband. He's exactly where he has been for hours, lounging among pillows and silks on the bed he's had installed in your workshop. A bowl of grapes sits nearby and he's been working his way through them for what feels like forever. If you weren't so irritated, you'd be struck dumb by the image he paints, half-naked and glowing as he pops a fruit between his lips. 

As it stands, you're just frustrated and horny now, which is never really a good thing, but especially not on bad days. The ache has made it hard to think, and you've been shuffling around all day trying to find a position that made it hurt just a little less but had no such luck. You've made no progress on the designs in front of you, either; between Seokjin's commentary and the fog of pain in your mind, you had no concentration. 

"I'm trying to work, Seokjin. We had an agreement, remember? You could have the bed installed, you can hang out here, I don't mind, but you have to let me work." 

"You've been trying for hours," Seokjin whines. "Take a break with me, please? You need to rest your hip anyway, or you won't be able to focus." You hate that he's right, and you hate that he knows he's right, and you really hate that he knows you know he's right. You grumble as you wheel over to him and as you slide your shoes off. It's his one rule about the bed, no shoes, and while you can't blame him since they were covered in ash and soot and rock, you still like to complain about it. 

His hands are on you in an instant, gliding under your shirt and massaging your hip. You sink into the touch, sighing as the pain lessens slightly.

"Let me help? We've still got some of the lotion that Apollo sent as a wedding favor. I brought it down, just in case." Lips press soft kisses to your shoulder, and you know it's only a matter of time before you give in. You should probably be a little ashamed of how little it takes for your husband to distract you, but you can't bother to care now. 

You nod, and you feel him smile against your skin. He's gone and back in a heartbeat and he lays you back against the pillows carefully. You wince when your hip rests flat, instantly adjusting to bear your weight elsewhere. 

"Is it bad today?" He mutters as he slides your usual leathers off. Any shyness and embarrassment you once had are long gone, softened by the passage of time and the sheer amount of times he's seen you naked. 

"No," You respond quietly. He shoots you a disbelieving look. "It's more annoying than usual, I suppose, but it's not any worse than usual."

"You shouldn't have irritated it by working," Seokjin says as he runs some of Apollo's lotion between his hands to warm it. "You could have stayed right here and gotten more done."

"I can't forge a throne from the bed, Seokjin."

"No, but you can draw designs for it. And for the jewelry I promised Dionysus."

"I still don't know how you talked me into making something for him that isn't a chastity belt or a guillotine." The heat in your words is dulled with every slide of your husband's hands over your hip. The lotion starts working almost immediately, sinking into your skin and dissipating any discomfort it reaches. Seokjin is smiling as he works and pats your thigh lightly. You twist more, laying on your side so he can reach the back of your thigh. 

"You can't be mad at him forever, can you?" He asks. You open your mouth to disagree - as a goddess, you quite literally can - but only a squawk comes out when he slaps your ass and watches it jiggle. He laughs as you slap at his shoulder, no real strength behind it. 

"That's it, give me my clothes, I have work to do." 

"Mm, I don't think so. Apollo said you have to rest for a while after applying, remember?" He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. 

"What do you expect me to do, just lay here and do nothing? I can't turn my brain off, Seokjin, I'll go mad if I have to lay here without being able to work."

"I actually had other ideas." The smile never leaves his face, and as he leans over you, you can feel the length of him pressing into your thigh. "Still just laying there, but much more enjoyable."

"Scandalous," You whisper, fighting a smile. "What would my husband think?"

"That you look sexier than anything he's ever seen like this and that he wants nothing more than to make you forget about anything but him." 

“That doesn’t sound very restful,” You tease as he kisses along your neck and down to your collarbone. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you can feel his familiar smile against your skin; he always does love it when you get flustered.  “I’m pretty sure Apollo specified ‘no sex’ in his definition of resting. He was pretty clear about it, actually, which makes me wonder what you’ve told him.”

Seokjin nips at your collarbone lightly. “Didn’t I say I want you to forget about anything but me?”

“Didn’t you say you were going to make me?” You retort. It’s a familiar argument, as comfortable and warm as Seokjin’s hands massaging your hip and thigh. His silk-soft hands dip downwards even as he rises, lifting your leg up and hooking your ankle around his neck. The discomfort that hits is overshadowed by the relieving stretch, and heat pools in your belly when you feel his length press against you once more, significantly closer to where you’d like it. He straddles your free leg, pressing against your naked core. 

“Seokjin, please,” You mutter. His touch is feather-light now, fingertips ghosting over your skin and marveling at the goosebumps they raise. You wiggle underneath him as he begins to trace your scars. The first time you’d done this, you didn’t let him linger; you were too embarrassed, too ashamed, too aware of the marks that start just above your hip and travel nearly to your knee. He’d insisted on it the next time, but you’d kept the room dark so you wouldn’t have to see his face. Months had passed before you could bear to watch him look at you, and when you did, it shocked you. It still does. It never seems to matter how many times he sees you like this, bare and vulnerable, scars on full display underneath his large hands. He always wears the same expression, the same awe reflecting in his eyes each time, his touch always gentle and careful, like he doesn’t want to make it worse than it already is. There’s no disgust, there’s no carefully crafted neutrality, nothing that you convinced yourself to expect. Just pure, unfiltered love.

It’s there still, radiant as he slides his hands along your skin. The sensation is dulled along the scar tissue, and yet you feel it in your very core. Wetness seeps into the fabric Seokjin is still wearing, and you whimper a little. He shushes you softly, grinding lightly to give you just a taste of the friction you so desire.

“Oh, my beautiful little blacksmith,” He coos. “You are absolutely soaked, did you know that? I haven’t even started yet, and you’re already so ready for me.” You whine as he slides a finger along your folds. You try to buck into his touch, but his other hand holds your hips firmly in place, though he never stops his massage. “Ah-ah, none of that. You’ll make the pain worse.”

You huff slightly under your breath, but you know he’s right. It’s a lesson you’ve learned several times over. 

“Seokjin, don’t tease,” You plead. You let your lip pout, knowing he can’t resist the very rare sight. “You said you would distract me. Or should I go back to my designs?”

“If you think you can,” He responds amicably. You turn slightly, your back resting flush against the bed while he moves your leg to wrap around his waist. It’s still twisted to the side, but the position helps with the pain leftover from the ointment. You open your mouth to snark at your husband, but all that comes out is a loud moan as he sinks two fingers deep inside you. His length, pressed into the meat of your ass, twitches at the sound. 

“Fuck, Seokjin,” You breathe. The way his fingers fit inside you is like no other feeling, and you could spend centuries trying to recreate it with no luck. 

"That's it, love," Seokjin purrs. His eyes are blown wide with desire and focused entirely on where his fingers disappear into you. "You take my fingers so good, sweetheart, like you were made just for me." A whimper escapes and you roll your hips slightly so he hits deeper inside. He grins and quickens his pace, knowing all too well what your body wants at this point. His thumb comes up to rub circles into your clit, gentle but firm; your back arches and your vision goes white with the force of the orgasm that's torn from you, and when you open your eyes, Seokjin is glowing. Literally, because you found out after the first time he made you come that that's a thing that happens to him.

"Please, love. I want you inside." Seokjin chuckles a little at your words, and if you had the energy, you'd kick him, but your legs don't work very well on a good day, so it's unlikely.

"Always so impatient," He tuts, though he does slide his fingers out of you and into his mouth. He moans at the taste of you, and your pussy clenches around nothing, because it's absolute sin to hear, and you wonder idly if maybe those Christians were on to something when they started talking about things being so good it's unholy.

Seokjin grabs your attention with a soft nip to your calf, accustomed to the way your mind wanders. He smiles at you, soft and private and beautiful, and lifts your hips with one hand. He slides a pillow underneath you and stifles a laugh at the way you wiggle into comfort as he settles your legs on either side of his hips. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” You huff. Seokjin doesn't respond, but you can see him trying not to smile as he pumps his cock lazily with one hand. "It's not very polite to laugh at your wife. In fact, it's considered fairly rude."

"Oh, is it?" He teases as he leans down to brush his lips against yours. The contact is brief but has your heart jumping in your throat nevertheless. 

"Yes," You reply, "It is. You should be nicer to m- fuck, Seokjin." He grins against your lips at your reaction, stilling as he bottoms out inside you. The stretch is perfect, would hurt if it didn't feel so good, and he knows it.

"What was that?" He asks. He nips at your lips when you whine. He drags his cock out, slow and delicious as you tighten around him, before sliding himself just as slowly back in. You'd be embarrassed about the moan that escapes you if you could focus on anything that isn't the way he feels inside you. 

From the first time he slid inside, there's always been something so right about the feeling. He fills every part of you, thick and long and harder than the bronze you work with every day. You've never been to the underworld, but you imagine this is what the Isles of the Blessed are like for the mortals, because it's rapturous. 

He thrusts gently in the beginning, always, careful to be sure he isn't too rough with your hip. He doesn't stop kissing you, plump lips moving sinuously against your own and breathing in every little moan and whine you make as he moves. He's so slow, so considerate, lets you set the pace each time, and right now? Right now, this is good. The slow, sensual strokes that you can feel against your walls, the steady press of him against your g-spot with every thrust, the warmth of his hand traveling from your thigh up your torso to tweak your nipple as he moves to glide a thumb over your jaw and then retrace his path back down. This is exactly what you want: the two of you moving together, slow and soft and perfect. 

You have plenty of time to try some wild new position later, after all. 

Your stomach lurches at the thought, heat pooling between your thighs as the band in your tummy steadily stretches. He doesn't change his pace at all, just adds a bit more force as he thrusts inside, and the added force against that spot inside has you seeing stars. Your moans are echoing and loud and with each one, Seokjin's glow just gets brighter and brighter. His hand wanders between your legs, rubbing small circles into your clit in time with his thrusts. 

"Show me, love," He mutters in your ear. "Love you so much, show me how it makes you feel. Let go for me." You whimper, blunt nails digging into the skin of his back. He doesn't stop, whispers exactly what he wants to see you do, but it's the way he says your name - quiet and reverent, like you may disappear if he's too loud - that finally has the cord snapping.

It must be too much, because you come to after a few minutes - maybe, time is so strange as a goddess - to find Seokjin rubbing soothing circles into your hips and pressing gentle kisses along the column of your throat. Your pussy contracts around him, and you whimper when you realize he's still hard inside you. 

"You didn't…?" You mutter, finding more words are too much work right now. 

"No, I don't need to," He assures you. He starts to pull out, but you manage to get a hand on his shoulder. 

"Want to," You mumble. Talking is hard, but you manage. "Want to feel you. Inside. Fuck. Please." He asks you if you're sure and you nod, and that's when he kisses you, soft and sweet and completely at odds with his next words.

"Gonna fuck you so good, my little blacksmith," He groans as he begins thrusting once more. He's faster now, hips snapping roughly against yours as he chases his high. "Can't wait to fill you up, wanna see you so full of my cum, want you to swell with it." He grins as you moan, tightening around him as another orgasm approaches. "You like that, love? You want me to fuck you full of my cum? Fill you up so good that it spills out of you for days?" He hisses a curse under his breath as you buck. Your free hand moves downward, rubbing at your clit gently. It's just the right edge of overstimulation, and it sends you off the edge once more, clenching around him. His hips stutter, and the feeling of you milking his cock sends him past the brink as well, and then he's painting your walls with cum. 

Later, after he's fucked his cum into you three more times and then eaten it out, he watches you draw a lazy sketch on the little bit of paper that you can reach. 

"It looks good," He says softly. You hum, wrinkling your nose. 

"I'm worried it's too...understated, I guess."

"No, I think it's perfect for her," Seokjin assures you. "Very Hera. Though, you should put in a secret compartment here, so she can stash her sex toys somewhere he won't look."

"What? No! I'm not building a secret sex toy stash in my mother's throne!"

"Fine." He's quiet for a few more minutes as you sketch. "I'll just get the cyclopes to do it."

[puroresu-musings]

NJPW THE NEW BEGINNING in Osaka 2020 Review (Feb 9th, Osaka-Jo Hall)

Nakanishi Final in Osaka-Jo Hall: Manabu Nakanishi, Yuji Nagata, Hiroyoshi Tenzan & Satoshi Kojima vs. Togi Makabe, Tomoaki Honma, Ryusuke Taguchi & Toa Henare  **1/2

IWGP Jr. HEAVYWEIGHT TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: SHO & YOH (c) vs. El Desperado & Yoshinobu Kanemaru  ***1/2

Kota Ibushi, Hiroshi Tanahashi, Juice Robinson & David Finlay vs. Guerrillas Of Destiny, Yujiro & Chase Owens  **1/2

Kazuchika Okada & Will Ospreay vs. Taichi & Zack Sabre Jr.  ***1/4

SANADA vs. Jay White  ***1/4

IWGP Jr. HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: Hiromu Takahashi (c) vs. Ryu Lee  ****3/4

IWGP U.S. CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: Jon Moxley (c) vs. Minoru Suzuki  ****1/2

IWGP HEAVYWEIGHT AND IWGP INTERCONTINENTAL DOUBLE CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: Tetsuya Naito (c) vs. KENTA  ****

Photos.

This was a show that got off to a bit of a slow start, but ended incredibly well. It opened with Manabu Nakanishi’s final ever match in Osaka, as his team was victorious when Kojima Lariated his way to victory over Honma at 7:09. The match was nothing really, but ended in Nakanishi bowing to the fans as he exited, getting a good ovation in a nice moment. The Jr. Tag straps were on the line next as Roppongi 3K defended against Desperado and Kanemaru. This was very good, but was missing something I felt. The Suzuki-gunners worked over SHO’s knee they injured at the Korakuen shows mid-week all match, but the champions overcame the odds. After SHO countered a Kanemaru whiskey mist attempt with a big German Suplex, he hit a cross-armed piledriver for a near fall, then the champions hit Strong X for the win at the 16:22 mark. Taguchi came out in the post match and asked Rocky Romero to join him in a challenge for the belts next. So it looks like 3K are getting the Coaches. Tanahashi, sporting one of his more preposterous “do’s” in quite some time, pinned one half of the IWGP Tag Champions when he locked Tanga Loa in a small package to end an average 8-man outing at 10:50, which was more about setting up future programmes. Tana and Ibushi challenged G.O.D. for the next title shot, but former champions Fin-Juice, who only lost the titles last week, appeared upset by this. It looks like it may be a 3-way.

New Japan announced a return to Madison Square Garden in August, as well as the firs two nights of G1 being held in Osaka in September, and a return to prime time Japanese TV in the mini interval. Well thats all newsworthy. Okada, teaming with Ospreay, once again pinned Taichi, teaming with ZSJ, with a Rainmaker to end a good 12 minute tag match. This was a brief sprint, though entertaining as it was, it was pretty forgettable stuff and really just a reason to get all four on the card I reckon. Next up, Jay White took on SANADA. I’m not going to lie, watching live, I fell asleep during this match, and had to go back and rewatch it before reviewing, and I can say that, whilst good, no doubt, it wasn’t anything too interesting. It went on an incredibly long time (22 minutes) and just didn’t feel like they got out of first gear. After Cold Skull kicked the ropes into an interfering Gedo’s crotch, he locked on Skull End, but made the age old mistake of letting go to try the Moonsault. Jay obviously avoided it, but gets caught in another Skull End. This time Jay makes the ropes, but SANADA gets a near fall with the Japanese Leg Clutch. White hits the Sleeper Suplex, a version of the Regal Plex, and finally the Blade Runner to take the win. As I say, this was really good by the end, but has to rank as something of a disappointment.

It was time to watch through fingers next as Hiromu defended the Jr. Title against arch nemesis Ryu Lee. Look, there’s no denying the spectacular nature of this match-up, but it was fucking terrifying to watch. Baring in mind, the last time these two fought resulted in one of them breaking their necks, this was never going to be an easy watch. Perhaps they’d have slowed down, or worked a less crazy style? Nope, it was business as usual, and it was frightening. They started with an epic overhand chop battle, until Lee hit a Frankesteiner out of the ring, sending the champion to the floor, then hitting a frankly insane tope suicida as Hiromu was sat on the barricade, wiping out all and sundry. Takahash followed that up with a Sunset Bomb out of the ring, and hits a nasty Death Valley Bomb into the corner, which Lee landed right on his head for. Hiromu locks in the triangle choke he calls “D”, but the Dragon hoists him up and teases the Dragon Driver, the same move which broke Hiromu’s neck, in a terrifying moment. Ryu Lee hits a double stomp off the top to the floor, then they end up on the apron, where Lee charges Hiromu, but ends up getting overhead suplexed off the apron to the floor. Hiromu goes up and hits his batchit crazy Senton off the top to the outside. Back inside, they trade Germans, and Lee attempts Desnucadora, but Takahashi catches him in D. Lee escapes with a buckle bomb, but runs straight into an overhead suplex into the corner pad. A devastating knee strike from Ryu gets a near fall, then he tries the Dragon Driver again (please stop!), but Hiromu escapes, then counters a Last Ride attempt into a Canadian Destroyer. Another huge knee strike by Lee gets a tremendous near fall, but Hiromu hits another Destroyer, followed by Time Bomb for another super close near fall. Takahashi pulls Lee up and hits a huge elbow strike, following it up with a second Time Bomb, this time getting the win and retaining the title at 23:54. As mind-blowing as this match was, I don’t need to see another between them for some time.

Moxley and Suzuki had a tough act to follow, but ended up being more than up for the task by having a very different, but no less crazy outng for the United States Championship. This was a wild brawl. They started the match by brawling through the crowd, and exchanged hard strikes. Suzuki worked over Moxley’s arm, wrapping it in a chair and bashing the chair clad arm with another chair. Suzuki locks on an arm bar, but Mox powers him up and powerbombs Suzuki through a table at ringside. They go to a close up of Suzuki who has a smile on his face as he lays in the wreckage, which was tremendous. They trade more forearms back in the ring, which Suzuki obviously wins, then locks on a tight rear naked choke, releasing it and getting a two count. A stiff sliding kick from Minoru follows, and Moxley returns the favour by hitting the Regal Knee. The Ill-Natured Man puts Moxley down with a big dropkick, then goes for the Gotch, but Moxley counters into Death Rider. Suzuki actually kicks out of Death Rider, then they had a chair duel, resulting in Mox hitting a DDT onto one of the chairs. They trade again with forearms and punches, before Moxley hits another Death Rider, this time finishing the match at 17:16. This was excellent. Zack Sabre Jr. came out in the post match, nailing Mox with the title belt, then chokes him out, signifying that he’s Moxley’s next challenger. That’s an interesting match-up indeed.

And in the main event, Tetsuya Naito defended both the IWGP Heavyweight and Intercontinental Titles against KENTA. OK, so this ended up being really great, but there’s no denying that both have seen better days, physically speaking, and expecting them to go 36 minutes seemed like a stretch. Whilst neither are as good as they were in 2014 say, both have tons of charisma, and that’s what got them by here. Also, some very fortuitous hard-way juice helped make it really dramatic down the stretch. The early going was a hard slog in all honesty, but this really picked up when Naito outlasted a Game Over, and hit Gloria for a near fall. After a ref bump, Jay White ran out and nailed a Sleeper Suplex on the champion, which brought out BUSHI, but he’s inturn taken out with Blade Runner. Hiromu comes running down, and takes care of Jay, dragging him to the back, whilst Naito hits his signature flying forearm on KENTA. From here, KENTA blocks a Destino attempt with a Lariat, then tries Go 2 Sleep, by Naito turns it into Destino. Naito charges KENTA, but the dastardly heel sends him into the exposed turnbuckles, which split Naito’s forehead open, and he juices really heavily. A KENTA Busaiku Knee gets a near fall, but another Go 2 Sleep is turned into a reverse rana, then Naito nails another Destino to end this at the 35:50 mark. In the post match, a bloody Naito calls out Hiromu, and challenges him to their long-talked-about match. Hiromu accepts his mentors challenge, so that shuld be pretty damn great.

NDT

[dylan-o-yumm]

Breaks from angst? Fluffy Nero at his wedding? Possibly?

(Fuck I got so carried away with this... whoops. Anyway I had a lot of fun conjuring this one up)

Nero didn’t want a big fancy wedding with a huge ball room and ceremony with a hundred people attending. And to be honest, you didn’t either. You knew how shy Nero got about PDA, so asking him to marry you and say his vows in front of a huge crowd didn’t even cross your mind. You both knew it would be far more special if it were smaller, with just the Devil May Cry crew and some of your family and friends, a small outdoor venue, and some booze and food. 

Nero was wearing a navy blue suit that fitted and hugged his muscles well, while you wore a nice knee length dress that fanned out slightly at the waist. You saw his jaw drop and eyes widen when you walked down the isle, and you definitely didn’t miss him wiping away tears with his thumb before you came to stand beside him, resting your hands in his. You too felt very emotional, unable to wipe the smile off your face as you started lovingly into his blue eyes. It was cheesy, but you felt like it were just you and him, no eyes on you except for his.

The ceremony was short, after saying your vows and exchanging rings, you sealed it all with a kiss. It was the best kiss you’d ever had, so much love and promise held in one action. You held onto his shoulders, pulling him to you as his arms wrapped around your waist, bodies pressed together while you waited for all air to leave your lungs before pulling away. You shared a loving gaze before large smiles made their way onto both your faces, the small crowd standing and they clapped and whooped. Nico and Dante were the loudest, cheering loudly like the children they are. 

The night rolled by and everyone began to drink and dance, mingling and enjoying being with each other before dinner came. There was one large, rectangle table, big enough to fit all your guests around it while you and Nero sat together in the middle, able to talk to anyone you wanted to. You talked to Nero the most though, whispering in each others ears and stealing kisses every now and then, just happy to be together. You did talk to Nico, Lady and Dante as well, since they were sitting on the other side of the table across from you, easiest to converse with. 

Dante stood up suddenly, tapping his whine glass with a fork to get everyones attention as they ate. You and Nero shared a worried glance at each other, not knowing where Dante was going to take this as he opened his mouth to speak. He began with warning his nephew, saying that if he ever hurts you he’d personally kick his ass, to which everyone laughed since he should be giving that warning to you instead, being Nero’s uncle and all. However, his speech didn’t end so wholesome and family friendly as he mentioned how the two of you were probably just waiting to get to the honeymoon part already. 

“To Nero and Y/n! The cutest fucking couple I have ever seen.” Dante raised his glass before taking a sip and smirking at the two of you. Your cheeks were pink but Nero was too happy to care about his goofy uncle embarrassing him in front of everyone, chuckling and pressing a kiss to your temple as he too picked up his drink and took a sip. A few more people stood up to say a few words, all a lot more kind and congratulating… except for Nico, she was just as bad as Dante, if not worse. 

After dinner and awkward speeches, slow music started and it was announced that it was time for the bride and groom to dance with their mother and father in law. Nero kissed the back of your hand as he went to offer his hand to your mother, pulling her from her seat and beginning a slow dance while they talked and laughed. You loved watching them get along so well. A finger tapped your shoulder and you spun around to see Nero’s father, Vergil extending his hand to you. He looked displeased that he’d be dancing in front of everyone but he did agree to do so anyway… After Dante offered to take his place that is. 

You took Vergil’s hand and followed him to the open space, his hand resting respectively high up on your back while the other held your hand. Your palm layer flat against his shoulder as you both began swaying slightly in time with the music. You could hear Nero chuckling and laughing with your mother still, smiling at the sound as Vergil shifted so you could see the pair dancing over his shoulder. You smiled warmly at Vergil and figured you better strike up a conversation since he didn’t look like he was going to. 

“I’m glad you’re here… So is Nero, even if he doesn’t say it” You stated genuinely, your smile fading to show him you were serious. Vergil met your gaze for a brief moment, humming as if it didn’t bother him either way before he averted his eyes again. You thought that was it, the end of the conversation and leaving you to have an awkward dance with… the devil. However he surprised you when he broke he silence. 

“My son is a fool about many things. However, I believe he is doing right by keeping you as close as he is. Without power, you cannot protect anything. With nothing, power has no use” He quotes as if it were a poem but you’re sure it isn’t one, his tone lacking emotion as usual but you didn’t mind. His words hit you like a ton of bricks and you wanted to ask him what he meant but he quickly raised his hand holding yours, spinning you before letting go. You expected to be left alone, having gotten your dance and words of… congratulations? However you smack right into someone, a hand quick to grab yours and resume the position you were previously in. 

“Funny bumping into you here” Dante joked, resting his hand on the middle of your back. You realised it was lower than where Vergil’s hand had been, but was still at an appropriate distance from your backside. You chuckled, fixing your hand on his shoulder and turning to watch the older brother head back to the table to watch the four of you dancing. “Figured I’d cut in since I’m clearly more of a father figure to the kid than Verg is.” Dante puffed his chest as if it were another title he was adding to his name. 

“Vergil is getting better. At least he isn’t killing anyone, so thats a plus in my books” You sighed, smile returning as you stepped side to side in time with the music. Dante definitely had more energy when it came to dancing than Vergil did, his feet tapping and hips swaying. Either way the two seemed to be pretty good dancers but in different genres. 

“I hope you have some tissues, kid. Cause I’m about to get sappy on you here” Dante warned, slowing his movements down considerably as he held a serious expression on his face instead of his usual smirk and carefree smile. “Nero hasn’t had a proper family before. It wasn’t until he started working for the business that he had us to call his family. He’s had a crappy life, no mother or father… until now, but thats not the point.” Dante frowned, telling you things you already knew but you didn’t dare interrupt him. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is thanks. I don’t think he was ever truly happy until he met you, and when you two started dating it was like a breath of fresh air for him. You changed him in ways I didn’t think were possible, but I’m glad you did because… I don’t know where the poor kid would be without you…” Dante was so uncharacteristically serious it sent shivers down your spine, but what he was saying only made your eyes well with tears. “So… thanks. For being there for my punk of a nephew when no one else was. Both Vergil and I owe you a great deal for you simply being you” He concluded with a soft smile.

You didn’t have words to express what you were feeling. You wanted to tell him that it was your absolute pleasure, being there for Nero, being with Nero… its been the greatest life because of him and you felt like you should be thanking him. It was Dante who introduced the two of you anyway. Instead you forgot about dancing for the moment to wrap both arms around the legendary devil hunters waist, hugging him tightly as you forced your tears away so you didn’t come back with puffy eyes. 

Dante laughed, patting your back as he hugged you back. You didn’t let go until you heard someone behind you clear their throat. You turned around to see Nero smiling softly at you, your mother already walking back to her seat as he stood before you. Dante pressed a kiss to the top of your head before walking off, too, going to sit down the the rest of your guests to watch what everyone has been waiting for. 

Nero held a hand out, letting you slide your palm against his as you stood to him. He gently tugged you into the middle of the dance floor, walking backwards as he did so, before pulling you to him, going to rest his hand on your waist like the two men before him did. Instead, you felt the overwhelming urge to be closer, far more closer to him. You didn’t give him the chance to react as you flung your arms around his neck and buried your face in the crook of his neck, body pressed firmly against his. He must have been shocked, the small crowd chuckling at the two of you as he settled for wrapping his arms around your waist, bowing his head to hide his face in your neck as well. 

“You feeling okay?” Nero asked and you nodded against him, chuckling at the fact that he was worried right now when you were holding each other as you swayed to music. Your chest was so warm and heavy with love and appreciation for the boy in front of you, Dante’s words echoing in your mind and you were sure they’d stay in your brain for as long as you were alive. 

“I just feel… so damn lucky” You breathed out, pulling back slightly and cupping his face in your hands to pull his face up, off your shoulder. You didn’t care that people were watching, and he seemed to let all PDA slide for today, since he usually wasn’t a fan of it. You pressed a soft peck to his lips, smiling when he chased you for a longer kiss. “I love you so damn much” You whispered. 

“I love you more. But, you got one thing wrong” Nero sighed happily, squeezing your waist a little as he pulled you tightly against him. You guessed what he was going to say before he said it, but hearing the words still made you smile like a love sick teenager non the less. “I’m the lucky one here” He whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek.  

Dante, Nico, Lady, all your family and everyone that were watching the two lovebirds on the dance floor, wished they had a love like yours. Thew were all smiling and imagining themselves in your position, being with someone they love like that. Everyone was happy. Even Vergil couldn’t help but smile at the two of you embracing each other, ignoring everyone’s eyes no you. Nero was all that mattered to you and you were all that mattered to him. 

[killerwhitequeen-blog]

Black Cloud (Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor x reader)

Anonymous asked: Hi! I aw that requests are open and was wondering if you could do a Roger Taylor one where the reader has amnesia and they are on a relationship and the reader doesn't remember. It can be angsty or fluffy, completely up to you!

A/N: I decided to go with both angsty and fluffy, hope you all enjoy, feel free to give criticism. Tbh this one is sad gamer hours so have fun with that

Warnings: Parent Death (brief mention), drunk driving, swearing.

The day had been off to a bad start for Roger, with Freddie making him redo his perfected drum solo a multitude of times, the skin on his snare tearing, having an argument with Brian over how convoluted his songs were and of course, not being able to see you.

You were stuck in work that day, with people you disliked and customers you detested, on your feet, for eight hours straight. Breathing out a sigh you cracked your neck, letting the vertebrae down your spine pop with it, feeling an instant release from some of works tensions.

You didn't know what would happen later but you had a sinking feeling in your chest whenever you thought about the walk home. Roger was unable to pick you up that day, busy with prior engagements, like the trip to the pub the band had been promising Fred for months. You understood completely and were actually looking forward to a nice quiet walk home before settling on the settee with a cuppa and watching mindless drivel on the TV before a good, deserved nights rest. But the storm cloud brewing in your stomach would not calm, it could not be satiated until the deed was done.

You called the boys before you left work that night, wanting to hear Rogers voice before he became mindlessly drunk, the phone picked up on the second ring.

“Yuh huh?” you heard Roger moan down the phone, obviously annoyed that he was the one to have to pick it up.

“Oh what a lovely way to greet your girlfriend Roger, really something to write home to mum about” you said sarcasm practically dripping from your voice.

“(Y/N) Fuck, I'm so glad you called, I've had the worst day imaginable... but you know what would make it better?” you could nearly hear him wiggling his eyebrows through the phone, making you giggle.

“No Roger, look, I only called to say, I'm leaving work now to try and get back home before it gets dark”

“Okay sweetheart, do you want to say hi to the guys before you go? We all miss you terribly” you laughed at his horrible attempt at a posh accent before giving your affirmation.

“SAY HI TO (Y/N)!” You heard Roger call through the studio and suddenly harsh footsteps were heard from the other end of the line.

“HI” all three boys shouted at once making the phone to your ear rattle slightly from the sheer force of the vibrations.

“Hiya boys” you paused for one second before saying “now ive really got to go Rog, I love you all and Ill see you soon, love you the most Rog, see you tonight right? No sleepovers at Brians, I dont care how drunk you get, I want to see you tonight”

“Bye (Y/N)” the lads yelled, rattling the poor landline once again.

“Bye love, I promise I'll see you later, I love you more than anything princess, bye” he mumbled so the others wouldnt hear him.

“bye” you said, putting down the handset and reaching for your bag, the sinking feeling in your gut getting worse by the minute.

You decided to take the front door out of work rather than the side, opting for visibility on the main road rather than taking the scenic route back to your flat. First mistake. You decided to look to the ground whilst walking. Second mistake. One minute you heard gravel crunching beneath your feet and in a split second you heard nothing but a blood curdling scream that you realised was ripping though your own throat. All you could see was black, the dark was so dark you could hear it, maybe even taste it but you weren't sure if that was the dark or the taste of your own blood filling your mouth.

You awoke in a sterile room, that looked like it had been scrubbed floor to ceiling so many times the plaster was ready to fall off of the foundation. You went to cough, suddenly aware of the thick tube that had been shoved down your throat, you gagged around it, throat closing up in protest to the intruder before you felt it being pulled out by the gentle hand of who you assumed to be the nurse but when you looked up you saw a man with a mop of blonde hair and striking, crystal eyes. Dressed in a simple blue linen shirt that was half buttoned and tight black trousers.

He looked at you as if you had just created the world and given it to him on a silver platter.

“You're awake! They said you wouldn't wake up for another two days at least. I missed you so bad princess” he exclaimed, grabbing your hand and just as his lips where about to graze your knuckles, you screamed. And you screamed bloody murder, it go so high to the point where you were pretty sure only dogs could hear you.

Your eyes darted around the room looking for something to throw at the man in front of you, before landing on the bed pan on your bedside table. Gripping it tightly in the hand that wasn't hooked up to any machines, you swung for the stranger in front of you. Or who you at least thought was a stranger.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU CREEP” you screeched, your throat sore and scratchy, whether that was from the tubing or the screaming, you were unaware, but you knew that you wanted this man far away from you, you were only 18 and this guy looked around 30, if not slightly younger, but still weird.

“(Y/N) darling what's wrong?” he looked so hurt by what you said, you almost felt bad for the guy.

“I DON'T KNOW YOU! WHY ARE YOU HERE?” you saw the sheer pain flash in his eyes before he slumped into the chair beside you, looking as if the world you had given him was burning and crumbling before his eyes.

A dazed nurse walked over to you, so you assumed it was the small hours of the morning. “What seems to be the problem Mr . Taylor?” she asked the man sat in the chair next to you and all he did was point at you before his features broke completely tears tearing down his face at an alarming rate.

“I don't know who that is” you whispered to the woman, afraid to upset the man more though you did not know why you worried, or why your heart ached for him in the way it. A sinking feeling filling your stomach like a dark storm cloud stretching throughout your insides.

“Thats your boyfriend miss (Y/L/N)” she said to you “I'll call for the doctor” she mumbles to the sad stranger.

When the doctor finally come into the room you had been sitting with the man for around fifteen minutes, him weeping into his hands, looking up at you every once in a while just for you to stare blankly into his crystalline eyes making him sob even more. The doctor checked you over, shining lights in your eyes and all other kinds of bullshit you didn't take the time to remember, you were too busy trying to memorise “Mr . Taylor's” face .

“Roger” the doctor said in order to stir the man too deep in sadness to think of much else. “She has amnesia, it should begin to pass in a few weeks but you're going to have to help jog her memory. You can take her home now, make sure to bring her in weekly for a check up on her stitches okay?”

“uh... yeah definitely, I definitely will thank you doctor Phillips.”

The doctor turned to you and started unhooking you from the machines before helping you to your feet.

“Thank you” you mutter, an unexplained guilt still filling you whilst thinking of the sad stranger.

You let 'Roger' lead you out of the hospital and into his car, Wheel in the sky by journey playing faintly through the radio and you could've sworn you had deja vu of a moment just like this from a few years ago, a man with a blurry face sat in the drivers side singing his heart out and you told him you loved him. The memory was gone as soon as it appeared and your head spun from the concentration needed just to look around the car.

By the time you were at Rogers flat, his tears had dried but he was still snuffling his nose as if in an attempt to suck the emotion back into his body. “well we're home (Y/N)”

“I don't know this place” was all you could weakly whisper in response before stepping out of the car and towards the towering block of flats in front of you.

Stepping into the cramped flat you're hit with a wave of nostalgia, making you weak in the knees, Roger holds you up by your arm pits and leads you over to the sofa in the centre of the room allowing you too fall back onto it.

“You alright love? Do you need anything? Water? Crackers? Cheese on toast? Say the word and im on it okay? Just ask”

“Tell me about “us”” you say gesturing over the 'us' with air quotes and pointing to the seat at your side.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything Roger” that was the fist time you had said his name since the incident and just hearing it made him smile radiantly, the sun should've been ashamed to shine compared to the glowing smile of the man next to you.

“Well, I'll start with what actually happened a week ago eh?” you nodded at this suggestion.

You were walking home from work alone, I couldn't come to pick you up, and you were all alone. You were just walking on a clear patch of pavement when a driver swerved due to being drunk at the wheel. Majority of the blow hit a lamppost next to you but you also took some of the brunt, you were knocked out cold (Y/N), christ as soon as I found out I ran to the hospital to see you but they said they had to induce a temporary coma due to blood on the brain. I didn't know how long I could last without you princess, you keep me level headed and I love you for that... we all do; me, Brian, Fred, Deaky especially. I need you with me always my love you keep me sane.

“I'm so sorry I wasn't there when it happened baby, I'm so fucking sorry” you sighed and took his hand

“I might not remember you right now, but I know that what happened was not your fault and you have nothing to be sorry for” you said with a conviction which your voice had not had yet that day, you knew this man was good inside and out.

That week people came to the flat to visit you, never remembering peoples faces had a tendency to make them cry. Roger continued to tell you stories throughout the time some beginning to jog memories like the angelic car moment.

We had our first kiss the first time we met, it was at a shitty uni new years party, at least it was shitty unil I saw you. You took my breath away angel, when you spoke you had the voice of a songbird, and your body... fuck it was difficult not to just ask you for a cheeky shag to be completely honest. It reached midnight and I saw you stood alone so I took my chance and asked if I could kiss you. You had been drinking beer and I could still taste it on your tongue it was heavenly. That's when I decided I wanted to take you out, do things properly date.

Roger broke the news to you that you were in fact twenty-seven and not eighteen like you though you were. He broke the news to you that your mother had died a few years prior of breast cancer. He told you how much he loved you and slowly but surely you returning to normal, remembering small details as he told a story, even the mundane ones where you would be reading in one corner of the flat with him writing songs in the other, staring at each other every once in a while eyes just filled to the brim with love.

He reminded you of all the arguments.

All the love.

The first time you told him you loved him.

The first time he said it back, nearly six months later.

He hid nothing from you and it worked wonders.

One morning you woke on the bed with Roger not lying beside you, confused you stepped out of bed, before remembering your accident, the amnesia, the pain you put roger theough.

“Babe?” you called as you stepped through the flat towards the sofa and when Roger looked at you, he already knew you remembered, there was no slightly vacant look behind your eyes. You had returned to him, his baby had returned to him and he could hope for nothing more.

He jumped off the sofa wrapping his arms securely around you and holding you tightly, he wasn't going no lose you again not now, not ever.

“(Y/N) I was working up the courage to do this before the accident, looking for the perfect time but I've now realised there is no perfect time there is only the now and we're lucky if we get that so (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) will you marry me gorgeous”

You gasped softly at the look of adoration of Rogers face as he held and you nodded, holding an onslaught of tears.

“Yes, Rog, a thousand times yes”

[petestark]

dad!tony:

- is 9047% okay with peter making a ‘video diary’ of his trip to berlin (even holds the camera for him for a brief moment in the car when they go to drop him back off in queens)

- hugs peter (that was a god damn hug fight me) and then blatantly lies to peter about how it wasn’t one, saying “we’re not there yet” (no one opens the fucking door like that, tony)

- makes sure peter has a parachute even when tony DOESNT HAVE ONE AND HE’S THE ONE THAT FUCKING FLIES

- monitors peter all the way from india and sends a suit to save him approximately .3 seconds after he was in serious danger

- not so subtly hints at the fact that he listened to every voicemail and read every text peter sent and not only that, REMEMBERED THEM TOO (“like that lady that bought you the churro” “i thought happy said you quit band six weeks ago”)

- put a heater in peter’s suit (y’all know he actually had to SIT THERE and think of these things. He got into Full Mechanic Dad Mode and made this suit specially for peter)

- like five minutes after saving peter’s ass he talks to him about college

- names protocols in peter’s suit “training wheels” and “baby monitor”

- MAKES 576 WEBSHOOTER COMBINATIONS????

- calls peter “mister parker”

- compliments him multiple times on his work (“nice work, kid” “nice job, kid” “you did a good job” “nice work in DC”)

- “MY DAD NEVER REALLY GAVE ME A LOT OF SUPPORT SO IM JUST TRYING TO BREAK THE CYCLE OF SHAME™” THE WAY HE SAYS “MY DAD” LIKE TONY HIMSELF IS ALSO A DAD. LIKE TONY IS PETER’S DAD. I CANT BELIEVE TONY IS LOWKEY REFERRING TO HIMSELF AS ONE OF PETER’S GUARDIANS AT THIS POINT WOW !!!!!!!!!!

- calls the FBI as soon as peter hangs up on him and immediately gets into his own suit and flies from wherever-the-fuck he is to where peter is (and assuming tony immediately left after peter hung up, it took him four minutes and twenty-four seconds (YES, i did the math))

- “don’t cut me off when i’m complimenting you” 1. either he’s just putting on that Public Tony Stark™ persona or 2. he’s making it seem like his compliments are worth a lot so when he DOES compliment peter (which is, again, relatively a LOT), peter feels Extra Good about himself

- “i think you’ve done enOUGH” MAD DAD™ TONY IS HERE AND HE IS ANGRY BECAUSE IF ANYONE DIED HE KNEW PETER WOULD FEEL GUILTY AND IF PETER HIMSELF DIED TONY WOULD HAVE THAT ON HIS CONSCIENCE AND GOD KNOWS HE DOESNT NEED ANY MORE GUILT IN HIS HEART

- (also i’d just like to appreciate the dialogue in between vulture and one of his workers- “so that’s it? you’re just gonna run?” “feds were waiting for us- now we’re on iron man’s radar? yeah i’m running. you should too.” like i’m so proud of my son striking fear into criminals)

- “if you even cared you’d actually be here”

tony: *is here*

peter: (งO_O) ง

i’m totally here for Intimidating Dad Tony who has so much fear for this kid’s life that it comes out as anger and scares peter

- “did you know i was the only one who BELIEVED IN YOU everyone else said i was CRAZY” TONY BELIEVING IN PETER SO MUCH THAT HE TRUSTS HIM MORE THAN WHAT OTHER PEOPLE ARE SAYING LIKE DAMN THATS DANGEROUS I KNOW BUT HOLY SHIT TONY! BELIEVES! IN! THIS! KID! SO MUCH!!!!!!

- “THIS IS WHERE YOU ZIP IT AIGHT THE ADULT IS TALKING” that’s just. a dad thing in itself.

- “AND IF YOU DIE-“ -whispers because he can’t even talk in a normal voice when he says this*- “-i feel like that’s on me... i don’t need that on my conscience.” AGAIN, TONY PHYSICALLY CANNOT HANDLE THE AMOUNT OF GUILT PETER’S DEATH WOULD CAUSE HIM

- “i was just trying to be like you” “and i wanted you to be better” okay but imagine what’s going through both their heads??? peter is probably thinking ‘how in the bloody fuck can i be better than iron man’ and tony’s probably thinking ‘c’mon, kid, it’s not that hard’ because tony only sees himself through the mistakes he’s made and peter sees tony through his achievements

- literally grounds peter by taking away his suit- like if that isn’t the most dad thing he did this entire movie

- “IF YOU’RE NOTHING WITHOUT THE SUIT THEN YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE IT” PASSING ON SOME WORDS OF WISDOM™ TO HIS NEXT OF KIN- TRULY A FATHERLY THING TO DO

- “god i sound like my dad” TONY IS JUST SO AFRAID!!! FOR PETER’S LIFE!!!! TO END UP LIKE HIS FATHER!!!!!!! THE ALIENS!!!!!!!!! HIS EX-TEAM!!!!!!!!!!!! HE FEELS SO TINY AND THERE’S. TOO. MANY. THINGS. THAT. ARE. TOO. BIG. FOR. HIM. TO. HANDLE. LET. HIM. REST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- peter: *is sad* i don’t have any other clothes

tony: *sees peter is sad* okay we’ll sort that out

tony: *gives him a souvenir shirt and hello kitty sweatpants to try and make him feel better which probably just ended up making peter feel humiliated but A++ for effort babe*

- HAS SUCH AN IMPACT ON PETER THAT PETER LITERALLY HAS A FREAK OUT AND THEN REMEMBERS TONY’S WORDS OF WISDOM™ AND THEN WOW PETER CAN SUDDENLY REMEMBER HE CAN LIFT A FUCKING BUILDING JFC

- gives peter that shoulder bump thing while smiling at him fondly idk that was just so cute

- puts his arm around peter’s shoulders, which he can just barely do because they’re literally the same height- rdj is 5’9 and tom is 5’8 (we all know tony wears high tops and high heels. he totally rocks them)

- asks for a little privacy with peter and then immediately apologizes for taking his suit

- “TOUGH LOVE MOMENT”

- sighs contentedly like he’s just so proud of peter that he has to breathe and take it all in. “my son did that. he fuckin Did That”

- mentions peter can be on the team and then when peter is all like “to the-to THE team?” he’s all like “ya lol anyway-“ like it’s no big deal. tony i know you’re fucking ecstatic inside to have someone on the team who loves and appreciates you as much as you love and appreciate them, don’t you try and cover that up

- MAKES PETER A NEW SUIT????? 1. IF IT WAS ALREADY MADE BEFORE TONY TOOK AWAY HIS OTHER SUIT, TONY DIDN'T THROW IT AWAY. HE FUCKIN KEPT IT. 2. IF IT WASN'T ALREADY MADE, TONY KEPT WORKING ON IT??? 

- smirks when peter isn’t looking because he’s a VERY proud dad

- gives peter a room???????

- PURSES HIS LIPS A LITTLE WHEN PETE SAYS “i’m good” AND U CAN TELL HE’S TRYING NOT TO SHOW IT BUT HE’S DISAPPOINTED (not in peter ofc but in his response because tony was just so excited to have peter live with him) and then his immediate “HOW ARE YOU GOOD WHAT DO YOU MEAN”

- is AN EXTRA FUCKING PROUD DAD™ when peter explains he’d like to stay on the ground and look out for the little guy for now. I SWEAR TONY LOOKED AT HIM SO SOFT AND THIS MIGHT JUST BE ME BUT I SWEAR TONY’S LIP TWITCHED A LITTLE BECAUSE HE WAS TRYING NOT TO SMILE

- FINALLY SMILED AT PETER WHEN HE WAS WALKING AWAY BECAUSE HE WAS SO PROUD

- anyways ya tony loves peter have a nice day

[unicornsandphoenix]

Beat that, Cinderella

Another drarry Cinderella story based off of this post! This time with a modern twist to it!

Written once more (this time actually fitting the prompt) for the absolutely stunningly incredible @drarrymylove (I hope you enjoy!) and once again I would like to send my love to my AMAZING beta, @staganddragon

Read on Ao3 here

Draco stared at the small but bright spirit bobbing in front of him. He opened his mouth, promptly closed it, and squinted.

“So you’re…”

“A fairy godmother. Yes.”

“And you…”

The fairy, Jeni, Draco remembered, rolled her eyes. “Make the wishes of truly innocent repenters come true.”

“And I am one of these?” He said narrowing his eyes.

“Yes.”

“And because of that you want to send me to the annual Ministry Ball? Because that is my wish. To go to a ball. Tonight. Filled with people who hate me.” Before Jeni could cut in, he added, “An ex-Death Eater. In a room full of Aurors.”

Jeni crossed her little arms in a huff, her curls bouncing against her shoulders.  “Draco. Darling. We have been over this. This is literally the third time we have had this conversation over again. Can you just roll with it? Please. Just give it tonight. Until 12 o'clock.” She reminded Draco ever so slightly of Pansy. Well. A lot, really. Had they met? This would not work out in her favor, Draco decided.

“Right,” Draco snorted. “And then what, at 12 I just leave? The fancy disguise you give me eviscerates? Someone pledges their undying love for me?” Draco chuckle stopped short when he had a brief image of Potter flash through his head. He scowled. And then glared for good measure. Stupid tosser would probably just ignore him as he had been doing ever since a few weeks before Draco quit Auror training last Monday. They must have moved him up to special classes, as Draco never saw him around the ministry, and Potter had certainly not made an effort to reach out to him. Not that he should have, a cheery voice reminded him. Several conversations and flirtatious smiles doesn’t actually mean anything. Draco shook himself out of his stupor.

“Actually…” Jeni started, wincing, and Draco leveled her with a flat look. “Well. We’ll apparate you out of there. No matter what is happening. Just as the clock strikes midnight. We’ve had some… issues in the past. Mice and pumpkins, you understand.”

“Great,” Draco mumbled crossing his arms. “Even fairy godmothers aren’t perfect.” Jeni tisked at him. “How did you even get in here?” Darco wondered. “The manor is guarded against magical creatures now.” Draco paled as he sat down on his bed heavily, remembering the last magical creature that had come to his house. “Are the charms failing? What if-”

Jeni landed on his shoulder and started to pet his hair. “No, Sweetie. I’m sorry I scared you. Godmothers aren’t like ordinary magical creatures. Our magic doesn’t register the same.” Draco took a breath and shook the dark thoughts from his head.

Draco chanced a glace out to his desk. Atop sat a horrifically boring book his mother had been pleading with him to read. He took a slow turn of the room, begging for something to stick out to him, but if he was being honest with himself, he supposed he had nothing better to do. Not that his time wasn’t important. And he had plenty of people to talk to of course. It was just that. Well. His parents were in Paris, and who knows where Blaise and Pansy had fucked off to. Draco had his money on Spain for Blaise and Italy for Pansy. Plus maybe this way he could find a way to talk to Potter again, without him ignoring Draco. It was a masked ball afterall. He pursed his lips, a wrinkle forming between his eyes. Ugh. Potter would probably dress up as a lion, that gryffindor. With his stupid hair and his stupid smile and his stupid penchant for talking to all the hot quidditch stars while he was in the middle of training  and right in front of him- He cleared his throat. “You aren’t going to leave until I agree, are you?” He said, defeated.

Jeni snorted softly on his shoulder and tugged on his hair. “Now you’re getting it. Let’s get you ready!”

Draco’s eyes widened. “What, now? The ball is four hours away! It’s still light outside, for Merlin's sake!” Draco said, flinging his arm to gesture at the window, upending the small fairy forcing her to flutter away.

“You may be right, but this is a long process!” Jeni was insistent, flying up in front of his face and backing him into an armchair. “Plus,” she added, snapping her fingers in a manner that would have made any rich pureblood impressed. A piece of rolled parchment appeared and conveniently floated over to Draco. “You have liability waivers to sign.” The moment Draco took the parchment, it unrolled and spilled across the floor.

“Salazar’s balls!” Draco moaned, already feeling sorry for himself. He grumpily added on, “This better be worth it.” Jeni just smiled and conjured a quill.

~~~~

Draco pulled nervously at his stiff collar outside the ballroom doors. He was nervous. Jeni had poked and prodded him nonstop for what felt like ages, the four hours flying by and an extra half hour used just for glamours, which Draco had insisted upon as to not be recognized. Jeni had rolled her eyes again, smacked him on the head, and then begrudgingly cast some hair coloring charms and the slightest glamour to his face. It was good enough, Draco supposed. No one was going to expect him to come to the ball anyways, and without his hair Draco thought he looked unrecognizable. But he had to give her props. He looked good. His hair was now rich colors of auburn, that brought out some color in his cheeks. His face looked good, not as good as his normal face, but still, Draco supposed, good. And the clothes.

Oh Merlin, Draco hoped somewhere in that contract (which was all hippogriff’s shit from what draco could tell- “contractee will not light the fairy on fire”, “contractee will not perform the macarena while drunk and naked on a balcony”, “contractee will not publicly declare their love for any orange muggle politician”, “contractee will not buy a plane ticket for a midnight flight and then jump out of the plane with no safety gear a minute until midnight”- I mean really, Draco thought, has anyone actually done any of this? Did they have no self respect?) it stated that he would get to keep these clothes. They were absolutely magnificent. Stiff and white on the top, they flowed out to the floor in silvery terraces. The collar was high, and yet dipped in in the front to show off Draco’s chest bones and a hint of his chest itself. Silver detailing, with hints of Draco’s favorite shade of green, crossed the expanse of the fabric, small dragons Draco had been pleased to take note of moved constantly to form ever changing and ever beautiful patterns. It was form fitting, and yet, not constricting. The best feature, Draco thought, was that it made his ass look like two plump apples, ripe for eating. The entire ensemble was finished off with a mask of a dragon that seemed to be made of pure silver with brilliant green emeralds embedded into it. It was entirely fitting of a Malfoy, and Draco was in love.

Suddenly, the doors in front of him opened, and a laughing couple fell out, almost on top of him. He sidestepped them with a sneer and made his way into the ballroom.

Lights were strung up from wall to wall, covering the ceilings. A live band played on the stage to the back of the room, and all around Draco could see people talking with on another. Smiles on their faces. No one stared at him when he walked through. Well, apart from a few glanceovers and appreciative  winks. Draco smirked back at them, but he was saving his wink for someone else.

“Hullo,” a rich voice said from behind him. Draco turned, and almost kept turning right around. The face might have been glamoured, Draco thought, but he would recognize that unruly mop of hair anywhere. If not for that, the eyes would have been a dead give away. Even the absence of the scar could not take away Potter’s earnest and casually commanding presence.

Potter was dressed to the nines, and Draco had to give him props. Or at least props to Granger. There was no chance Potter could have dressed himself for this occasion. He was not a lion, but instead a stag. The outfit looked to be a version of muggle clothing, a sharp black suit, though there was moving golden details on the collar and wrists that glinted everytime the light hit them. His glamoured face was hidden behind a black and gold mask, sleek and elegant, antlers coming out from either side in a majestic sweep. His hair, Draco supposed he could do nothing about, though it did look softer, smoother. Draco could see himself running his fingers through it, gripping on to it, tugging...  Draco was staring.

“Hullo,” he replied. Draco didn’t like the smirk that appeared on Potter’s face. What was he thinking?

Potter held out his hand, and Draco, trying not to see the moment as momentous as it felt, grasped it, but Potter didn’t let him go. “I’m Roonil, but you can just call me Roo. What’s your name?” Potter asked, his eyes never leaving Draco for a second. Draco’s eyes narrowed. What kind of name was Potter playing at?

“Drac- Drake. My name is Drake,” Draco was struggling. He had wanted to confront Potter, but why was his heart beating so damn loud? Also, something was suspicious in the way he was acting.

“Thats funny,” Potter said his eyes sparkling in amusement it sounds a lot like Dr-”

“Do you want to dance?” Draco blurted, afraid at what was about to come out of Potter’s mouth next.

Potter smiled, a real smile where the corners of his eyes grew wrinkles, and tugged on Draco’s hand, leading him onto the dance floor. How long had his hand been clutching Harry’s? Had Harry noticed how strange he was acting?

Harry yanked him towards himself and settled one hand on his back, pulling him in close. Merlin, since when had Draco started to call him Harry in his head? And why was he so out of breath?

Potter lowered his lips to Draco’s ear. “Full disclosure,” he whispered, making Draco shiver involuntarily. “I don’t actually know how to dance.”

Draco covered a snort with a faux huff of disappointment as his confidence rose back up. “Well, then. In that case, I suppose I will just have to lead you,” and he swirled a laughing Harry away.

~~~

Hours later had Draco panting for breaths as Harry lowered his head to Draco’s shoulder.

“I cannot believe you said that to them!” He cried laughing.

“I did! I was fed up! Why should I have had to obliviate the poor man if I could just convince him about the aliens!” Harry said, leaning back from Draco and gesturing wildly before, sinking down into the bench they were sitting on outside the ballroom.

“But Harry,” Draco said, clutching his stomach in laughter. “This poor man quit his job to hunt spaceships!”

Draco was so caught up in his joy, he failed to notice Harry had stopped laughing, and had started staring at him quite curiously.

“You said my name,” Harry stated, perhaps with a hint of wryness. “You know who I am.”

“I, uh, you-” Draco had nothing. Dammit. And the night was going so well! He had had Harry in his clutches- To do what with him, Draco? He thought suddenly. To laugh with him? To get him to smile at you like he has been doing? Is this not what you wanted all along? And now you have him. He doesn’t hate you for what you did. He doesn’t even know who you are. You are free. “Yes,” Draco sighed and pulled back a little. “I do know who you are.” Harry frowned slightly in consideration. “A massive prat! Who would have thought that the poster boy for the Ministry Auror Program commits crimes and convinces Muggles of nonsense in his spare time!”

Harry chuckled, seemingly relieved. “Didn’t you hear? I quit about a month ago-”

“You QUIT?” Draco interrupted. His mind was racing. Maybe Harry hadn’t meant to ignore him, maybe it was all a misun-

“Why, Drake, you seemed scandalized!” Draco quickly collected his thoughts and shoved them away for another time.

“No,” he sniffed. “Not at all. You merely caught me off guard.”

Harry smirked. “I’m sure. Anyways, Drac- Drake. I- Well. I wanted to know if maybe you would like to get dinner with me sometime this week?” Harry looked up at him through his lashes. “It’s been a while since I had this much fun with anyone.”

Draco’s heart thumped. Salazar, this is it! He thought. “I would love that, Harry, I really would. But I’m afraid that I have two conditions that must be seen to first.”

Harry was beaming at him. Well, really he was rolling his eyes, but the smile was important, Draco was sure. “Let’s see what I can do,” Harry said.

Draco nodded, scooting closer on the bench, reaching across Harry to cage him in, and leaning in close. “Well first,” He said, breathing softly and closing the distance inch by inch to Harry’s mouth with his. “I need to check the merchandise, of course.” He was so close, he could see the freckles in Harry’s green eyes. They rather matched his outfit, Draco thought distractedly, watching Harry taking his own eyes with what seemed to be wonder.

“But only of course,” Harry whispered inching impossibly closer and bringing his arms up to hold Draco close to him. They closed their eyes as noses nudged noses.

“Harry,” Draco whimpered. He felt a pulling sensation in his gut and then he was flying.

Harry’s lips touched his and- wait. Were lips supposed to feel this rough? Was Harry squeaking? Surely Draco wasn’t that bad of a kisser. His eyes flew open and he spit out hair. “What the fuck!” He cried out, turning wildly around his bedroom. A wet ball of light flew in front of him, crossing her arms.

“I won’t expect an apology from you-” Draco started to reply, but held his tongue in shock when the fairy turned away from him and just held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it.” Jeni shivered and quickly muttered a quick charm to dry and clean her hair, which returned to the bouncing curls. She looked down to examine her nails. “I hope you had a good time-”

“Would have been more fun if I hadn’t been pulled away,” Draco muttered darkly. But the fairy godmother just continued to speak as if he wasn’t even there, flexing her fingers out in front of her.

“And I hope that you don’t mind that we need to take away your clothes-” Draco let out a squawk as his clothes disappeared, replaced by a bathrobe (which, Draco would have liked to point out, was entirely too short, only barely covering what it needed to). “And please be aware that the glamour will stay in place until you decide to end it manually with a wand.” A loud bang made Draco jump, but the fairy only looked up from her nails. “Oh! I bet that’s him!”

“Who’s-” Draco started, but the fairy just popped out of existence. This was just going too fast for Draco. He heard muffled yelling from the front of the manor, where the door was creaking under the ferocious pounding. An impressive feat, as the door was larger than twice Hagrid’s height. “Alright! I’m coming!” He called out running down the hallway frazzled, confused, and still dazed after his almost kiss with Harry. “Merlin, will you stop!” He said, unlocking and throwing open the door. “Harry!” He said, shocked. Harry’s glamour was gone and he was holding his mask tightly in his fist, his hair looking as if he had run his fingers through it more than usual. How it could have gotten so messy in the span of only a few minutes, Draco could not say. He supposed Harry couldn’t say either. “What are you- how did you-” Harry knocked past him into the hallway before he rounded on him, but not without first glancing down at Draco’s bathrobe, or more specifically, his long, lean legs. It took a few seconds before Harry shook his head.

“What the fuck, Malfoy! You don’t just apparate away in the middle of-”

“I was forcefully apparated away, actually,” Draco interjected.

Harry just continued. “Were you just toying with me? What this all a large joke-”

Draco started. “Fuck no, Potter! I was literally dragged away- against my will- at midnight- wait hold on. Did you just say my name? Do you know who I am?”

Harry snorted, and moved down the hall, peaking into archways and doorways until he found one with sofas. He twitched his wand in the direction of the fireplace, which instantaneously lit up with a roaring fire. In turn, Draco, who had frantically moved to follow him after pushing the front door shut, felt his other wand twitch in response to the display of powerful wordless magic. At least the bathrobe was roomy.

“Well?” Draco demanded, crossing his arms and tapping his foot at Harry, who had sprawled on one end of the sofas in a huff. Harry scoffed.

“Really, Draco,” Harry said with a snort. Draco’s breath caught at the use of his name. But then he supposed, coming to the Manner had been a pretty sure give away. “Did you think you could get away with just casting a half-arsed glamour on your face and changing your hair color? Did you think I wouldn’t recognize that haughty sneer of yours or the way you held yourself? You even recognized me through my glamour!”

“Well,” Draco sniffed, sitting carefully on the edge of the sofa. “Your glamour was crap.” He shifted, hunching in on himself.  Softly, he continued. “And I was going to tell you. That was going to be part of the second condition. That we would accept the other without the glamours, or no deal.”

Harry chuckled fondly, but exasperatedly. “I’m still mad at you, you know,” he said with a small smile. Draco frowned, shifting a little closer and angling his body towards Harry’s. “Why did you leave?” Harry’s eyes found his, and Draco could see how vulnerable he was in this moment. “Jesus, Draco, I was really worried there for a minute,” Harry said, hands coming up hesitantly to hold Draco’s face, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. Draco breathed in. Draco breathed out. And then told him the whole story from the very beginning, which seemed to have started days ago and not just earlier that day.

“What,” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. “And it just so happened to strike midnight what was supposed to be the best kiss I’ve had in awhile-”

He froze, and Draco grew a smirk. “Oh, well then, in that case, Potter, I suppose I will have to make it up to you. Draco moved forward only to stop with a whine as Harry held up a hand to stop him. “What now?” He said against Harry’s fingers.

“If this is going to happen, I want it to be as Harry and Draco, with no glamours in the way. You have conditions to be met.” Draco’s breath caught, and his heart melted. “How else will I know you haven’t grown a mustache or gone hideous?” Draco scowled and Harry preformed another wordless spell to remove first the glamours on his hair, and then the one on his face, before he casually dropped his wand into the sofa to be able to continue to hold Draco’s face. Harry seemed enthralled. Draco was not amused.

“Shut it, Potter,” he said, even as he ran his hands through Harry’s soft hair.

“Harry,” Harry replied grinning, returning the motion in kind.

Draco smiled. “Harry. Shut it, Harry.” And finally, their lips touched.

Jeni watched them move into each other from her place on the windowsill, tickled with happiness. As apprehensive as she had been for combining the two assignments, both feeling guilty and both deserving forgiveness, she could not have asked for a better turnout. “Beat that, Cinderella,” she said, and promptly popped away.

[survivormykonos]

Episode #1: “everyone knows I’m here for the drama™️” ~Robbie

First impressions these people are basic players who wont have very big personalities, and not willing to put a lot of effort into this game. Hopefully thats not the case and its just late so no one is really wide awake :) Because I came to play and I hope thats what everyone else came here to do as well 

Okay so my plan basically worked, winning the first reward competition by placing a good score has opened up one of many avenues to come. Ryan, and Zeezo want to work with me (bad choice for them since I will be winning this aka taking them out eventually but oh well)

Him hitting it off really well with this tribe they are all so friendly and welcoming, Ain is my main homegirl at the moment she is the best and jared is a nice friendly face so it should be interesting to see what the coming days are like.

so not 30 minutes in and meowth comes out with the question "what if someones racist" which to me carried an air of accusation it was public and clearly meant for all to see it just gives me a bit of an icky feeling towards meowth

I'm glad that others are getting higher scores than me because i definitely don't want to be presenting as a threat in challenges particularity not the first day so i just am hoping that ill land middle of the pack challenge wise

so this immunity is fun i love puzzles like these even though they are hard tbh im not completly happy about our chances but i hope we can push through and win or the other tribes internet fucks up, either or really

so right now the vote seems to be between Robbie and Mewoth (Josh) and tbh i dont care which goes because they havent spoken to me but whatever, in any case id rather keep someone who actually contributed to the challenge and if he doesn't step it up then Josh will be gone next

Going into tribal council i am very nervous, you never know where the vote is until the votes are read and if im on the wrong side of the vote i might not be around much longer

I dont know whats gonna go down here but i hope i do well

reunited with lukas my love

she sells seashells at the seashore

why is the first vote already so confusing and wild.... just decide on a person

WHATS UPPPP!!! Can’t say much because I’m busy but I’m stoked!!! Only two other girls on my team tho :/ but it’s ok! I have Stephen who I know but I’ll get into all that later and I have lukas and Sammy on the other tribe who I LOVE TO DEATH but obviously can’t tell anyone that. Ain is on the other side who I hate but I just hope she gets voted out and we never have to interact :’)

Honestly, living my best life and enjoying the brief small talk with my tribe mates. So far getting a good vibe from everyone but lets be real, shit (I can curse right... I lowkey have always wanted to say that) is definitely going to go down as soon as something goes wrong. But like *shrug*. 

OK LET'S TALK ABOUT THAT TIME THAT I DIDNT WANT TO GRAB THE LIGHT AND SHINE IT ON ME AND WE WIN FIRST IMMUNITY AND I GET SENT TO PARADISE ISLAND!!!!!!!!! Yeah, because like, screw the idea of trying to lay a tad low for the first vote. But hey, I guess when you are working with Zeezo and she tells you the immunity boxes must be evens because of the clue she got, and then you get sent to PI, it can't be all that bad. I'm so shook I don't even know if I'm making sentences rn hahaha. I hate saying this, but like I am so happy with where I am rn, but I def know there is so much more work to put in before my tribe ends up going to tribal. AND SPEAKING OF TRIBES, WHET ON EARTH? Two abstains in the reward and then a tie and only two points in the immunity challenge for Yalos? Did they also think they were cast in ANTM because like same. We've all been there, amiright? Can they continue to do this so I can just breeze my way to merge and start playing this game already??? Please and thank you. 

When I wake up and realize I have so much work to do for school but at least I don't have to worry about going to tribal tonight! I aint mad! At least Im not gonna be the Francesca of this season soooooooo..... 

So... ya boy just beat Jared in a word search comp... and beat him... and went to Super Paradise Island... and idk which greek god is on my side, but one them has ya boy's back because he just the sapphire gem... Like no big deal... I didn't expect to be the first voted out and then just somehow came across getting one of the first big advantages of the game... WE ARE ALL FINE GUYS!!!

I have Oakley, who voted me out on Athena: Himalayas and Olivia, who I voted out on Atomic: Isle of Skye on my tribe. And my immediate thought is I want to work with them. Olivia more than Oakley, I don’t have any beef with him from another season but he is sneaky. However my strategy especially at this point in the game is just make lersonal connections and pretend to have the strategic knowledge of a goldfish. Here’s hoping it works.

So far I’ve talked to most people but some are easier to connect to than others, Joanna seems the most distant, she responds but it doesn’t feel friendly. But we won, so we’re all good this round. I really hope Ain goes home, shes manipulative, vindictive and isn’t afraid to use underhanded tactics.

WOAH! So after being recommended to play by a friend, I found out he ALSO recommended Miles to play, although in the other tribe.. I have someone I know here although I kinda got them eliminated in a Twitter Survivor... Hmmm... So far in Kalafati tribe, Im liking Miles and Joanna, Haven't had much contact with the others but they seem really cool. Im so excited to play, Especially with winning a lucky hidden immunity Idol

I’m still waving the flag

I’m still waving the flag I hate that challenge. I got a respectable score but if i did all that just to have the Yalos player stop after a low score, I'll be sad

My first impressions of the tribe is pretty positive! No immediate negative figures jump out at me. I'm still testing the waters, trying to figure out if any people are potentials for alliance members. Some people like Olivia, Jacob, Miles, Stephen and Thomas have reached out to me which makes them seem like good potentials for friends. However, I want to see how the reward challenge goes before I can evaluate my teammates further. 

It's amazing that we won the reward challenge and I'm so happy that I performed as well as I did. However, I am worried about the immunity challenge. I'm happy with the flash game, but the controls are really wacky and I already know it will take forever to get used to.

I'm honestly a little worried seeing that I didn't preform very well in the immunity challenge. Thankfully, we still managed to pull off a win and we didn't have to worry about tribal. Speaking of tribal, I don't think there is anyway Robbie is going to stay, seeing that he abstained in the reward and striked in the immunity. Also, I feel like I want to work with Olivia, but Miles also seems like a good person to work with, but I haven't approached either of them yet. Still weighing my options and figuring out the best way to proceed. 

Honestly it doesn’t seem like anyone is playing hard yet which is annoying me. Because I want to play hard, but if no one else is people can get sketched out by highly strategic, social players

Honestly if I finess this vote and stay in the game after forfeiting two comps it will be hilarious. But everyone knows I’m here for the drama™️ Hope no one gets blind sided

So the first night went..... alright. My tribe wasn’t as energetic or as talkitive as I had expected. It appears as though I am on a tribe with all gay men, which sounds nice in theory, but I’m bracing for the moment these twinks start wildin. Aside from the gays, I know Ain from a past org and am starting to warm back up to her. We will probs stick together for awhile. As of now, that’s all. 

Robbie, queen of being inactive and making cases to stay last minute, came to me with the idea of booting Meowth instead. I said hell yeah! All for that shit! Not that I don’t like Meowth, it’s just I would love to do something unexpected for the first tribal. However, Sammy and Michael seem to be so against it for some reason. Lord knows why. I’m going to aim to be in the majority, but I may just cast my vote for Meowth for the hell of it. 

Ok I don’t quite remember what my last confessional was but I know for a fact I fucked up the names. Robbie is the one on the line, Sammy is just another gay. I swap their names all of the time. 

I really like this tribe so far! Everyone seems pretty chill and it's nice to know that at the moment, nobody is really mean-spirited. I know that Jacob has some past with the other Miles, but he's on the other tribe, so there's really no past relationships to deal with either, at least that I know of! I think that by far, I'd probably like to align with Olivia and Joanna for sure, and maybe Stephen, Zeezo,  Oakley, and Julian as well? I'd rather not get into scheming this early! I think it'd be much better for my game at the moment not to be the leader or figurehead of a group, but rather an updated member. I guess I'll have to see!

Alright so... Not a whole lot is going on, it's just the start of the game, we're just doing the first reward challenge. This tribe is just a bit too large for my taste but whatever, I'll manage. Getting to know all these people is interesting, which is funny because the absolute LAST word I would use to describe myself is "interesting"

I'm not entirely sure what use one would have for a fire making kit in an online survivor. Am I meant to set my laptop on fire? ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME SOMETHING????????? lmao...

There's a few people that I'm getting great vibes from. Miles would probably be the biggest one rn. I would love nothing more than to get some sort of alliance going sooner rather than later JUST IN CASE but like I don't want to be the one to actively go out and do it because if someone leaks RIP ME. Idk what I'm doing just yet. We'll figure this out.

We won the first immunity and don't have to vote anyone out, that's awesome. I can't help but feel just a little concerned though, everyone's almost a little TOO peaceful on this tribe. I'm not saying I'd want to LOSE a comp and have to face tribal but the reads I'm getting from everyone is giving me a sense of unease. I do enjoy winning though and wouldn't mind winning out. I'm just saying, I feel very uneasy with the vibes I'm receiving. Good lord I just repeated myself there. Oh well.

I really like this tribe so far! Everyone seems pretty chill and it's nice to know that at the moment, nobody is really mean-spirited. I know that Jacob has some past with the other Miles, but he's on the other tribe, so there's really no past relationships to deal with either, at least that I know of! I think that by far, I'd probably like to align with Olivia and Joanna for sure, and maybe Stephen, Zeezo,  Oakley, and Julian as well? I'd rather not get into scheming this early! I think it'd be much better for my game at the moment not to be the leader or figurehead of a group, but rather an updated member. I guess I'll have to see!

I think I'm pretty safe after this immunity challenge. I was one of 2 people to win the head to head for my tribe and therefore I have a chance to go to Paradise Island! I'm trying my best NOT to go though because I think that would put a target on my back very early on.

Right now my closest ally is Matt and I feel that we have a strong bond. We're each other's #1's and talking back and forth over who should go tonight. I'm very torn for who I'm voting for at tribal tonight, it's either Meowth (Josh) or Robbie. I've heard that Robbie may have gotten the majority but I don't feel 100% on wanting him still in the game. Yes, Meowth is weak in challenges but he's another easy vote moving forward in the future.

So, what's been going for me so far?  Well, reward challenge I busted my ass and showed what I can do, which was great!  WE lost, which sucks, and 2 people didn't submit.  Those 2 were Miles and Robbie.  This made me upset, mostly because Miles I know from my Minecraft UHC days, so we made an instant alliance from that.  Robbie I didn't care about.  Then came immunity, where once again, Robbie was unable to compete, and I still stand by that I was robbed in my challenge because of a shit quality image, but this is what I'm used to from online games like this, so I'll move on (eventually).  We got rekt in immunity, and the obvious choice was looking like Robbie for not submitting twice.  So, being the intelligent player I am, I basically pitched to Robbie that he was going home unless he made a better pitch about someone else.  He aimed at Michael, someone who I somewhat wanted to work with at the time (in hind sight, I wouldn't have cared much).  I proposed, instead, we vote for meowth (Joshua) because he just rubbed me the wrong way, under-performed, and refused to talk game strategy with me at all.  I pulled in Lukas and Jared, as well as had Ain in my pocket, and with the acquiring of Sammy by both me and Robbie, the vote should be set in our favor.  I'm still trying to convince Miles to roll with us so he's not on the losing end of the vote, but I think its 50/50 whether he will or won't.  Honestly, I feel pretty safe with this vote, being that I was a top performer and have shown how active I strive to be in these games.  I'm not super worried about this vote and hope that Robbie sticks around.  Hopefully, he becomes a powerful player and a big help in challenges.  If he's not, he'll go next for sure.  Let's hope I don't live to regret these words!

I think I’m in a pretty safe spot right now, but we def have people who think they are running the show around here...SIT DOWN or else you’ll become a target early😉 but I like everyone just don’t know who we should keep...someone who hasn’t been active or someone who tries but does not communicate. Eh either way I’m not on the chopping block sooooo. Okay wow that sounds rude but um i like everyone:) yikes

Honestly, this is a fung ame and a fun set of people. Just hope my time here isn't too short.

So far I feel pretty good about my tribe even though there a couple people I forgot to ever talk to oops. We seem to be good at challenges and get along well. I've connected most with Ryan so far and told him my idol clue to gain his trust. He's told me he trusts me the most out of anyone so that's good. After we talked we decided to pull in a 3rd and settled with Thomas since he got the best score in the reward challenge. After consulting with Ryan I decided to share my clue with Thomas too and the 3 of us officially performed an alliance. I think with this alliance my goal is to think more long term. Thomas is probabaly going to on Tinder performing well at challenges and be a shield for me. He also doesn't seem to talk to a lot of other people. Meanwhile Ryan seems like the type of person who might play too hard so he could be another shield. Plus we get along really well so far so that's good :') We might pull in a 4th for the alliance later since Thomas is kind of inactive and Ryan suggested Stephen so I'm interested to see how that will pan out. In other news Ryan got sent to paradise island and got the sapphire gem thing so that's great :') So if one of us finds the idol we should have great power in the game so I'm looking forward to the rest of the game 

Nothing is going really because we have been on a winning streak and have been crushing it. I knew Stephen from a previous game and we agreed to work together. He is not being extremely subtle about it but I think he wants to work with Olivia because he has mentioned her a lot and how he likes her. I don't mind that because I do like her but I am worried about the two of them being closer to each other than to me because I know they know each other. I am really liking Ryan as well and would like to work with him. I am worried I am not being as social as I should be because I do notice that I don't talk to as many people as I would like. Miles I have talked to a bit but haven't built much of a relationship with him and everyone else I have said hi to and talked to a bit but I haven't really built anything or know anything about them. I just hope we can win long enough for me to build those relationships because I am worried that I am one of the two people to lose my round in the immunity challenge.

[wrestlingbabe]

Change That

Randy Orton/OC- Reader’s day has been long and just wants it to end, but Randy has another idea.

Warnings: Daddy kink(because I’m a terrible person), spanking, choking, just pure nasty

@fucking-bandsx I hope this is everything you have ever wanted and sorry I took a little while to make I found writing about Randy a little bit difficult idk why.

Today has been a long day to say the least. My match against Natalya was painful, Nikki Bella interfered with it so we didn’t even get to finish it and on top of all of that Randy lost his match against Luke Harper.

The only thing I have to look forward to is that Randy is upset and after his match he grabbed me by my waist and pinned me to him and whispered, “I hope my baby girl is ready for me tonight because I have a lot of stress I need to get rid of.”

The memory itself made me want to moan and slip my fingers down my shorts but that all would have to wait.

I parked my car at the hotel and made my way up to our room. I put the key into the slot on the door and opened the door. As I was setting my bags down, I got a text from Randy saying he would be late because creative was holding him up.

I groaned at the text and massaged my temples, “I need a drink.”

I made my way down to the hotel bar to see a few other wrestlers there. I ordered my drink and strolled up to Dean and AJ striking up a conversation with them. The three of us were talking about pretty much everything. Their match from earlier and who we think we could beat blindfolded. AJ smirked and leaned closer to me, “I bet you 50 dollars that I could beat Randy blindfolded.”

I huffed and looked at him, “Oh yeah well I bet 50 dollars that Randy would kick you ass.” I jumped a little when I felt a pair of rough hands on my waist.

“You bet your sweet ass I would beat him.” Randy said nonchalantly as the grip on my waist tightened. “If y’all would excuse us, Y/N and I have some business to attend to.”

Dean looked at me smirking as if he knew the “business” we were about to do. “Oh yeah don’t let us hold you back boss.”

Randy grabbed one of my hands and pulled me away from the bar. I waved goodbye to AJ and Dean and said a silent pray that Randy didn’t read my time with them as something else.

As we got into the elevator I turned to hit the floor button, I yelped when I felt Randy smack my ass. The jeans I was wearing made it sting more than it should causing a shiver to run down my spine.

“So thats what you do when I’m late? You go and flirt with other men, and not just any men but AJ and Dean? Well a least you said I would win against AJ.” Randy spun me around so I was looking at him. “You’re in for one hell of a punishment.”

I was about to say something but the elevator dinged to let us know we were on our floor. Randy grabbed my hand again while rushing to our room. I winced as Randy’s hand tighten on my hand, “Randy that kind of hurts.” He ignored me and opened the door.

Randy let go of my hand the moment the door opened and pushed me against the wall, “oh sweetheart you should know better than to call me Randy. You know damn well what you should be calling me.”

I whimpered and rested my head on Randy’s chest, “Are you going to fuck me Daddy?” I asked in the most innocent voice I could do.

Randy growled and pushed my shirt over my head. “Been waiting all day to do this. Have you under my touch squirming and begging to cum. Can’t wait to have that tight pussy wrapped around me.” Randy lifted his shirt off and brought my hands to his chest. “Would you like me to touch you?”

I moaned while my hands explored his body, “Daddy please. I’ve been waiting for it ever since earlier. Oh please.” Randy traced his arms over my shoulders and down my back to my bra and unhooked it. I dropped my hands to my side to let my bra slide down my arms. The moment it came off Randy’s mouth immediately attached to one of my nipples. “Oh god feels good.” Randy scraped his teeth over my nipple and I yelped at the pleasure.

“Take your shorts off but leave you panties on and get on the bed.” Randy ordered me. I turned around to give him a view as I pushed my shorts off leaving me in my thong. I heard Randy moan as he saw the wet spot he had caused. “Did daddy get you all wet princess?”

I groaned and turned to walk to the bed. My steps flattered when I felt Randy slap my ass again, “I asked you a question.” Randy practically growled at me.

“Yes sir. You made me so wet.” I whimpered as I crawled onto the bed.

As I laid down on the bed, Randy came to the foot of it. “Spread your legs.”

I blushed and threw my head into a pillow as I slowly spread my legs. I whined when I felt Randy brush his fingers up my legs. “Don’t be shy baby. You know Daddy loves you.” I smiled at his change of demeanor but soon gritted my teeth as I felt Randy bring his hand down hard on my inner thigh. “Do you want me to touch you now?”

I looked up to see Randy standing on my side of the bed now only in his briefs with his dick straining to be free. I nodded and brought my hand to his, “Can I help?” It was Randy’s turn to moan as I dragged his hand over my clothed core. I laid his fingers directly over my clit and let out a shaky breath as I bent my middle finger back and forth on his fingers which caused him to follow the same movement. The movement was barely brushing his finger over my clit so I pushed harder down on his finger. The new pressure had my mouth hanging open as silent O’s slipped from my mouth. “Daddy this feels amazing.”

Randy slipped his hands from my core and moved off the bed pulling his briefs off. He climbed back on so he was beside my legs and slowly pulled my panties off. He threw them across the room and grabbed my hips turning me to my stomach. “I almost forgot that this was a punishment and skipped out on spanking you.”

I groaned as Randy ran his hand down my ass. I arched my back as I felt the first spank come down hard on my ass. After the third and fourth one I started to grind my ass back into his hand. Once the fifth one made contact I moved up a little on the bed making Randy’s fingers slip down my core. A slight moan slipped from my mouth and Randy brought his hand down on my ass again. “Who-o said you could-d move?” Randy stuttered with his words.

I looked back at him to see what was making him stuttered and whined when I saw him slowly stroking himself. “Daddy will you please just fuck me now.” Randy came up behind me and entered me without warning. “OH-H GOD!”

“There you go baby. Scream real loud for me.” Randy started to move at a brutal pace. The only sound being made was our skin making constant contact. I let out a high pitch whine as Randy snaked his hand up my back and into my hair. “You’re taking me so well princess. Making Daddy feel so good.” Randy grabbed my hair making it into a makeshift ponytail and pulled me up so our bodies were pressed against each other.

I moaned as the new position made Randy go deeper. I grabbed his other hand and placed it on my throat, “Please Daddy.” I felt Randy smirk against my shoulder as his hand tightened around my throat. “Go harder.” I gasped out as I felt my orgasm building up.

Randy pushed me down while pushing me onto my hands and knees and grabbed onto my waist as he picked up his pace. “I feel you clenching baby. You gonna cum for daddy?” Randy placed his fingers over my clit and started rubbing it.

“Ple-ease.” A low whine escaped my lips. Randy pushed my shoulders down so my ass was up in the air. “I’m right there. Can I cum now Daddy? Please.” Randy started to pull completely out of me and push back in hard. 

“Go ahead princess.” Randy brought his other hand down hard on my ass and my toes curled as my orgasm rushed through me. I made animalistic moan as Randy brought both of his hands to my hips again and felt his thrust start to stutter. “god baby feel so tight fu-uck.” Randy came to a halt as he came. I groaned as Randy pulled out of me. “One second let me clean this up.” Randy brought a towel to my core wiping me clean.

 I dropped my legs to the bed and laid there for a second. “I’m so sore.” I pouted as Randy came up beside me and kissed my shoulder. Randy climbed up on the bed and straddled my hips pushing his fingers into my back. I moaned and rolled my head to the other side of the pillow. I brought one of my hands back and started to gently stroke Randy’s dick. Randy groaned, “Daddy can change that.”