[oneshot] being productive
Title: being productive
Genre: au, smut
Author: gdgdbaby
Rating: NC17
Inspiration: THANKYOU kpopficwangst ♥
Notes: olympian!au~ which is just an excuse for godxgod PWP D8 oh well teehee.
Being the fucking god of war was definitely not what it was cut out to be.
He was promised hordes of able soldiers, ready to be commandeered into battle, and legions of willing women to come (pun absolutely intended) and do his bidding. He wanted fire and brimstone raining down from the heavens, the blood of enemies spilling out to make the rivers run red.
Instead, all Seunghyun got was a bunch of wannabe hotshots fighting over a chick whose face was supposed to sink a thousand fishing boats or some shit.
He was a little fed up with this, and if he didn’t get some legit action soon, he was going to murder Chaerin’s newest posse of suitors and lover-boys.
The door to his throne-room banged open, and the skinniest girl he’d ever seen stomped in down the red carpet. There were bangles all over her arms and a thin white headband on her head. Dark eyeliner and mascara coupled with an extra-tight toga gave her an mysterious, smoky look. For a second he thought maybe Hyori was finally doing her job and sending some sweet lovin’ his way, but the blondie seemed a little too irate for that.
“Who the hell are you,” he snorted into a bored hand, giving the girl a once over. A bit too flat-chested for his taste. “A messenger of the messenger?”
“No,” the girl snapped, and a certain texture in that voice made him realize that Barbie-without-breasts was, in fact, a boy. “I don’t work for Hermes. I’m here to proposition you.”
He quirked an eyebrow, slightly interested. “What exactly does this proposition entail?” He’d had sex with guys back in the day (he’d stopped though, after Poseidon’s watersports weirded him out a little too much).
“Hyori wants me to get laid. Apparently I can’t do my job right unless I’m getting some.”
Mount Olympus drama in the making? He was so there. “Why do you have to listen to Hyori anyway?”
The god stopped in his tracks halfway down the carpet, hands on his hips. Multicolored bracelets jangled as he gestured towards a long quiver strapped on his back. “Cupid, duh. Are you fucking blind or something?”
Seunghyun ignored the last part. “So, Cupid, you think if you have sex with me, a male, and fellow Olympian to boot, you’ll piss her off enough that it’ll get her off your case?”
“Ding ding ding, we have a winner,” Cupid said, tone snarky. “And please, call me Jiyong. Cupid is so fucking girly.”
Seunghyun raised an eyebrow. “And that headband you’re wearing isn’t?”
“Just stop talking and kiss me already, idiot.”
“Bitch,” he said under his breath. Cup-Jiyong didn’t have time to retort because he’d flown forward, grabbed the skinny god and shifted them to his private chambers.
The boy let out a squawk of protest as he landed ass-first on his blood-red sheets. He glared and tried to sit up and say something, but Seunghyun cut him off with a hand over his mouth.
“If we’re doing this,” Seunghyun said, voice low and dangerous, “we’re doing it my way.”
That shut the annoyingly high-pitched voice up for a bit. He tore what was probably a designer-toga in half, breathing a sigh of relief when all he saw was muscle definition and a hint of ribs. Emaciation had no place in his bed. He quickly undressed himself and started moving hands all over smooth, pearly-white skin.
Finally, Seunghyun kissed him, and Jiyong did sinful things with his tongue that made the blood shoot straight to his cock. Clearly, he hadn’t earned the title of god of love for nothing. Slender legs wrapped around his waist, pulling their erections together and a gasp from Seunghyun’s open mouth.
He reached down blindly to open a cabinet-drawer in search of lube, but an impatient Cupid grabbed the bottle himself and coated his own hand. Before he could react, Jiyong stuck two fingers between his legs and began scissoring.
He almost came at the sight of Jiyong finger-fucking himself, moaning with his head tossed back against the pillow. Growling, he slicked his cock up with the oily substance, and yanking Jiyong’s fingers out, slammed his hips forward.
Jiyong’s breath hitched, back arching beautifully off the bed. His hand moved inched down to stroke his dick, but Seunghyun grabbed both of them and pinned them above Jiyong's head. He moved agonizingly slow, slipping in and out, and Jiyong babbled endlessly, moaning his name and cursing.
“Fuck, move, you tease,” came the command, but Seunghyun didn’t let up his maddening pace. The hand that wasn’t pinning Jiyong down flicked at his nipple, and the blond bucked wildly, Seunghyun swallowing his groan with a deep kiss.
Inevitably, Seunghyun couldn’t help himself and the rhythm got faster and faster, the smell of sweat and sex permeating the room. Jiyong was reduced to incoherency, meeting him thrust for thrust and ripping noises from Seunghyun that he didn’t even know he could make.
His hand moved down to jerk on Jiyong’s cock, thumb skimming over the precum gathering on its tip. His breath caught as Seunghyun pumped his hand twice, three times, and then he was coming, semen splattering over his stomach and face positioned in a silent scream. Jiyong involuntarily contracted, the added tightness and friction sending Seunghyun over the edge, head pitching forward to let his mouth suck lazily on Jiyong’s neck.
For a few moments, post-coital bliss rendered him unable to speak. Seunghyun collapsed to the side, rolling over on his back to gather his bearings.
After catching his breath, Jiyong slipped off the bed shakily, looking thoroughly debauched, and gathered the remains of his ripped toga. His bangles were all twisted and the white headband was askew across mussed up blond hair. He turned towards a satisfied Seunghyun and smirked wickedly, waggling his fingers at him before shifting away (probably to give a full account of the events to a horrified Hyori).
Seunghyun stayed in bed a little longer, a stupid grin plastered on his face.
Things were looking up.
A/N: Y'all know Cupid is such a diva. AHAHAHAHAHA ♥
Genre: au, smut
Author: gdgdbaby
Rating: NC17
Inspiration: THANKYOU kpopficwangst ♥
Notes: olympian!au~ which is just an excuse for godxgod PWP D8 oh well teehee.
Being the fucking god of war was definitely not what it was cut out to be.
He was promised hordes of able soldiers, ready to be commandeered into battle, and legions of willing women to come (pun absolutely intended) and do his bidding. He wanted fire and brimstone raining down from the heavens, the blood of enemies spilling out to make the rivers run red.
Instead, all Seunghyun got was a bunch of wannabe hotshots fighting over a chick whose face was supposed to sink a thousand fishing boats or some shit.
He was a little fed up with this, and if he didn’t get some legit action soon, he was going to murder Chaerin’s newest posse of suitors and lover-boys.
The door to his throne-room banged open, and the skinniest girl he’d ever seen stomped in down the red carpet. There were bangles all over her arms and a thin white headband on her head. Dark eyeliner and mascara coupled with an extra-tight toga gave her an mysterious, smoky look. For a second he thought maybe Hyori was finally doing her job and sending some sweet lovin’ his way, but the blondie seemed a little too irate for that.
“Who the hell are you,” he snorted into a bored hand, giving the girl a once over. A bit too flat-chested for his taste. “A messenger of the messenger?”
“No,” the girl snapped, and a certain texture in that voice made him realize that Barbie-without-breasts was, in fact, a boy. “I don’t work for Hermes. I’m here to proposition you.”
He quirked an eyebrow, slightly interested. “What exactly does this proposition entail?” He’d had sex with guys back in the day (he’d stopped though, after Poseidon’s watersports weirded him out a little too much).
“Hyori wants me to get laid. Apparently I can’t do my job right unless I’m getting some.”
Mount Olympus drama in the making? He was so there. “Why do you have to listen to Hyori anyway?”
The god stopped in his tracks halfway down the carpet, hands on his hips. Multicolored bracelets jangled as he gestured towards a long quiver strapped on his back. “Cupid, duh. Are you fucking blind or something?”
Seunghyun ignored the last part. “So, Cupid, you think if you have sex with me, a male, and fellow Olympian to boot, you’ll piss her off enough that it’ll get her off your case?”
“Ding ding ding, we have a winner,” Cupid said, tone snarky. “And please, call me Jiyong. Cupid is so fucking girly.”
Seunghyun raised an eyebrow. “And that headband you’re wearing isn’t?”
“Just stop talking and kiss me already, idiot.”
“Bitch,” he said under his breath. Cup-Jiyong didn’t have time to retort because he’d flown forward, grabbed the skinny god and shifted them to his private chambers.
The boy let out a squawk of protest as he landed ass-first on his blood-red sheets. He glared and tried to sit up and say something, but Seunghyun cut him off with a hand over his mouth.
“If we’re doing this,” Seunghyun said, voice low and dangerous, “we’re doing it my way.”
That shut the annoyingly high-pitched voice up for a bit. He tore what was probably a designer-toga in half, breathing a sigh of relief when all he saw was muscle definition and a hint of ribs. Emaciation had no place in his bed. He quickly undressed himself and started moving hands all over smooth, pearly-white skin.
Finally, Seunghyun kissed him, and Jiyong did sinful things with his tongue that made the blood shoot straight to his cock. Clearly, he hadn’t earned the title of god of love for nothing. Slender legs wrapped around his waist, pulling their erections together and a gasp from Seunghyun’s open mouth.
He reached down blindly to open a cabinet-drawer in search of lube, but an impatient Cupid grabbed the bottle himself and coated his own hand. Before he could react, Jiyong stuck two fingers between his legs and began scissoring.
He almost came at the sight of Jiyong finger-fucking himself, moaning with his head tossed back against the pillow. Growling, he slicked his cock up with the oily substance, and yanking Jiyong’s fingers out, slammed his hips forward.
Jiyong’s breath hitched, back arching beautifully off the bed. His hand moved inched down to stroke his dick, but Seunghyun grabbed both of them and pinned them above Jiyong's head. He moved agonizingly slow, slipping in and out, and Jiyong babbled endlessly, moaning his name and cursing.
“Fuck, move, you tease,” came the command, but Seunghyun didn’t let up his maddening pace. The hand that wasn’t pinning Jiyong down flicked at his nipple, and the blond bucked wildly, Seunghyun swallowing his groan with a deep kiss.
Inevitably, Seunghyun couldn’t help himself and the rhythm got faster and faster, the smell of sweat and sex permeating the room. Jiyong was reduced to incoherency, meeting him thrust for thrust and ripping noises from Seunghyun that he didn’t even know he could make.
His hand moved down to jerk on Jiyong’s cock, thumb skimming over the precum gathering on its tip. His breath caught as Seunghyun pumped his hand twice, three times, and then he was coming, semen splattering over his stomach and face positioned in a silent scream. Jiyong involuntarily contracted, the added tightness and friction sending Seunghyun over the edge, head pitching forward to let his mouth suck lazily on Jiyong’s neck.
For a few moments, post-coital bliss rendered him unable to speak. Seunghyun collapsed to the side, rolling over on his back to gather his bearings.
After catching his breath, Jiyong slipped off the bed shakily, looking thoroughly debauched, and gathered the remains of his ripped toga. His bangles were all twisted and the white headband was askew across mussed up blond hair. He turned towards a satisfied Seunghyun and smirked wickedly, waggling his fingers at him before shifting away (probably to give a full account of the events to a horrified Hyori).
Seunghyun stayed in bed a little longer, a stupid grin plastered on his face.
Things were looking up.
A/N: Y'all know Cupid is such a diva. AHAHAHAHAHA ♥