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#I made it look as bad and dumb as possible
matara-okina · 1 year
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Ordinary Businessman Larry Pokémon, am I wrong?
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persephoneflouwers · 2 years
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Spill those press conference thoughts girl!
Hello 🌸
Where do I start? Let me say I agree with the general overview. I do think the two movies affected Harry in a different way. I do think he loved being part of MP because it really feels like a safe and comfortable environment for an exciting and important project. I do think he was intimately connected to the story and since I believe what I believe, I can’t not see his deep reflection on the character he plays in the movie. I do think the other movie was the ultimate bad choice for several reasons and I wouldn’t be surprised if all the people involved would feel this way too. It was poorly directed and they went for the lamest narrative in modern history ending up in a gross, embarrassing joke.
That being said… I know the main opinion in fandom right now is “Harry didn’t care about that movie”, which may be true, but also it’s his job and he’s a professional. I wonder in which extent he has the freedom to go there and say certain things without repercussions. Especially when he has been part of this mess for too long and whatever he says can compromise the entire thing. I know people say “they didn’t do a good job with the promo/marketing of that movie and stuff”, which may be true, but also I wouldn’t say it like that. They made decisions and planned strategies, that evolved in a final snowball at the press conference in Venice. The fact we were all expecting the crash says more to me than any interview ever could lol if that was so predictable why nobody prevented it? Unless… that’s what they wanted or at least, that’s what they could find useful somehow. I don’t know maybe I’m giving them too much credit hahah It was a 2 years long marketing campaign and as I said before, everything was set in perfect Hollywood style. All the buzz, gossip, stunt, scandals, drama, rumours of all sort around this movie (even spitgate if you want) were meant to put that movie under the spotlight. I don’t think Harry was unprepared for that movie, I think all the press was meant to go that way at some point. Since his arrival, Harry’s role was to be the diva from the carpet to the press conference. Nobody was expecting him to have clever thoughts on the movie or whatever. Even the press treated him like a diva with question about himself and the parallel career in music and fans (?). It was meant to be that way to me because they never tried to separate Harry styles the singer from Harry styles the actor. If that was your purpose, you wouldn’t use tickets for Harry’s tour to increase the presales for the movie. I despise WB, but if it’s true this was the movie they put all the efforts in… I genuinely can’t believe they would go with the flow like that during the conference on a super professional stage like Venice lmao Again, maybe it’s that I value work ethic too much and this was just simply bad, but the little question in the back of my mind stays… Nobody would go there and say the “movie is a movie” quote! I know it sounds like typical Harry, but Harry is smart. His job is literally to create masterpieces with WORDS. He better than anybody else knows the power of them. Look at the 180 turn My policeman!Harry took. It’s way too obvious. I’m not saying I 100% believe becoming a twitter meme was intentional, but I wouldn’t swipe this card off the table lol after all that’s what there’s left when your movie is nothing new and have no message but you just want to sell it using your actor fanbase. Cheap and lazy (like Harry’s team).
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skrunksthatwunk · 7 days
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playing dmc1 with my earbuds in (but on low volume bc they're being weird) while my roommate and her shitty bf argue. i feel like i'm recreating the very specific experience of some child of divorce out there
#how do i tell her she needs to break up with him immediately. posthaste.fuck it funny post over rant incoming tw emotional abuse i think#nyarla dni#(<- roomie and nyarla have met and i don't wanna air roomie's drama to ppl who know her w/o her consent. anon internet ppl only)#listen i'm normally for gentle advising and that's probably what i'll do since i don't want to stress her out but oh my fucking god what is#his problem. he's constantly putting her in these weird no-win situations where the only right answer is to never be upset or disagree or b#wrong on accident or be misunderstood by him and to tell him everything she's feeling so she's not 'playing mind games' but if she says wha#she's feeling he'll interrogate her and badger her with the same questions over and over again insisting she's unreasonable until she gives#in and says she's sorry with an attitude he likes. i fucking don't like him. and a lot of this is observations from today. the day after sh#GOT INTO A CAR ACCIDENT AND BROKE HER NECK. WHAT THE FUCK.#it's like he expects to be treated like a king on one of the worst days of her life and when she's upset he's like OH. OH I GET IT.#and lectures her on having attitude and taking things out on others when she's literally not even doing that. not to an extent that matters#anyway. like. there's more productive ways of dealing with that. where you don't treat them like a bad kid for getting overwhelmed#he has made her cry multiple times today. i have been around multiple arguments and fights and he's just genuinely. awful i hate him#hell the first argument i overheard *i* was in tears by the end (luckily they left soon after bc i had to run to the basement laundry#dungeon to bawl my eyes out because 1. i can't handle confrontation 2. i've never seen roomie cry and 3. she just seemed so hurt and tired)#anyway he just left again after a fight because. god this is so dumb. she told him to move while they were sleeping in the same twin bed#(remember she's in a neck brace) and he fucking. left the room for an HOUR bc he thought the only thing that could POSSIBLY mean (as he#insisted) was for him to get out of here and then when she was like oh hey i'm sorry i didn't mean it like that he decided to spend the nex#half hour of his short time on this earth chewing her out for not giving him a lengthy explanation while half-asleep as to like. why he#needed to move (she wanted to grab smth) and apparently he sat in the chair by her bed for like 10 mins before leaving so he probably saw#her fall back asleep. and then he got pissy when after he left she didn't pick up her phone when he was calling her? even though he knew sh#was asleep?? she didn't even know he was gone. fucking. i need to get him away from my roomie YESTERDAY#look. miscommunication happens. i'm not saying he's an asshole for wanting things said clearly. i am pro-saying what you mean.#but if every time your gf tells you what she means you make it into a 30 minute lecture (no matter how small the slight and w/o examining i#you're actually right or not) she's not gonna wanna fucking tell you if she doesn't think it's worth the argument. especially if you never#let her rest until she concedes. apology isn't enough. clarification isn't enough. she has to say how wrong she was and beg and GOD. UGHHH#and he's always on about how she hurts his feelings. a gust of wind could hurt his feelings. he's constantly berating her manipulating her#and then he's like >:( see that hurt my feelings you can't hurt ppl's feelings. you're disrespectful. HE"S THE WORST I FUCKING HATE HIM#look sometimes adversity reveals the truth of a person and this just amplified his shittiness so much. mr OH i slept in a HOSPITAL and it#was so bad... you can't be in a bad mood bc i've been doing the bare minimum and you need to prioritize MY feelings rn. also i won't leave
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clandestineloki · 9 months
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miguel o'hara x shy crybaby housewife!reader
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cw: non-graphic mentions of violence, suggestive bit at the end lmk if u want an nsfw of this!!
ok but imagine shy lil missus o'hara who's a stay at home wife while miguel goes off to either alchemax or to fight some bad guys
and miguel comes home stressed all the time but just a touch of her hand on his shoulder grounds him after all that fighting
and miguel is tired but happy, grateful for his little love taking such good care of him :)) giving you a forehead kiss before he goes off to the bathroom, settling in the perfectly warm bath prepared for him before indulging in his little wife's amazing cooking 
but one night when he comes home a little bit more tense than usual
she's very tense
she's heard him yelling at his subordinates over the phone and yelling at dumb-ass cops who get in the way of him stopping some thief
and while miguel has always been soft and kind and gentle with her, she's scared that she'll accidentally do something wrong :((
so miguel walks past her, exhausted, and almost smiles at the smell of dinner
no forehead kiss for her :(( poor baby
sitting at the dining table head in his hands as he mumbles about not getting the chance to grab a snack, let alone a break in spanish
and she knows he's hungry, but she knows his whole body will be aching if he doesn't take a bath to regulate his body temperature
but poor baby doesn't know how to say it without him possibly snapping at her :((
she's standing on the other side of the table nervously fidgeting with the dish towel and finding the right words to say
"y-you... you gotta t-take a bath f-first..."
miguel sighs into his hands. "i know, but im really hungry, cariño..."
"b-but... if you don't... you'll be s-sore..."
he looks up, brows furrowing. "what?"
he was genuinely confused why you seemed so scared of him, but his voice came out a bit more bluntly than he meant it to.
your eyes widen and you look down. "n-nothing," you mumble, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. "sorry."
"hey, hey, baby..." miguel stands up, walking over to you and pulling you into his arms. "what's wrong? did i say something?"
"no..." you sniffle, "jus thought i made you mad..."
"no, no, no, i'm not mad," he kisses all over u: your teary eyes, your wobbling lips, your forehead, the tip of ur nose
miguel kisses you deeply and then hugs you close to him. "im not mad, i promise. i'm just so so tired and hungry and the food smelled so good i'm gonna die if i don't get to taste it," he whispers, laughing when you giggle at his declaration.
"the bath can wait," he caresses your cheek with his hand.
"b-but you're gonna get cramps tomorrow if-"
he cuts you off with a big smooch to your face. "it doesn't matter. im staying home tomorrow."
"wh-what?!" you look up at him as he sits down, pulling you into his lap. "but you have work- and- and you're spiderman- and-"
he shakes his head, running his fingers through your hair.
"i'm your husband first, and all that other shit second."
miguel sighs, pulling you closer.
"i know i haven't been taking care of you the way i should be."
before you can interject about how he's doing so much already, he presses a finger against your lips.
"ssh. and alchemax and the cops don't really give a shit about me, can probably last every other day without me there. they'd probably have a field day without this jackass there," he chuckles. "but you, baby, i need to return the favor- ah, ah! let me finish, gatita- return the favor for keeping this place a safe space for me."
a kiss here, a kiss there. "entiendes?"
you nod, hugging him. "just glad you're home," you mumble, nuzzling into his neck.
he spends the rest of that hour enjoying the food you made for him while also feeding you and rattling all about the thugs he stopped that day.
then he pulls you into the bath with him, despite your protests, and laughs as he splashes you with the soapy water, making you squeal and threaten to spray him with the shower nozzle
then the two of you dry up and snuggle in bed, not bothering to put on any clothes. miguel smiles down at you and you smile up at him, before he rolls you on your back and crawls over you to make the sweetest yet roughest love to show you just how thankful he is for having a sweet lil thing like u to come home to <3
(part 2 is here~)
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fluffylino · 4 months
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pussy drunk minho
he'll never admit how dumb he gets for your pussy~
-contains mature themes
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"kitten, im not that obsessed with your pussy" minho scoffed out. you clicked your tongue.
now that was a lie.
"i doubt you could last an entire week without it" you argued back. he smirked.
"game on." now it was your turn to make a face.
"so if i win, you'll wear the collar?" his expression dropping. you could see the wheels in his head turning. wondering if he could really beat you against this game.
"that is...that is if you win. which you won't im sure of it but alright" you couldn't help but smile.
"deal"
"seriously though i can live without eating you out..." you laughed right in his face. to which he rolled his eyes.
the whole argument starting when you asked if you could dom him. his immediate response being a firm no. you couldn't help but whine, even begging for it.
if he could dom you. you could dom him.
his response being "i'd rather be the one in control. i feel uneasy submitting."
so you decided to pry more into it. you wanted to know more. to truly understand him.
"because i feel like my mind will go all fuzzy and i'll look like an idiot" that was exactly why you wanted to take charge. if not for sometime. you were happy even if it was a one time thing.
minho was cute eitherway and he'd be even more cuter on his knees.
and then what really did it for you was when he said he wasn't that obsessed with eating you out.
a lie honestly.
his morning routine consisting of waking you up with his face between your legs. breathless and absolutely horny. grinding against the mattress.
it didn't matter if he had to go out. that always came first. and he was one to give amazing head. always having that confident smirk after making you cum.
.
.
the day one was fine.
he seemed normal. doing his daily tasks. going to the company. coming back all sweaty and laying on your chest. you couldn't help how sweet he was.
day three was when you noticed him staring.
you hadn't even realised the t shirt you were wearing had ridden up. enough to have your panties exposed. he was talking to you about the dance formations when all of a sudden you noticed the way his eyes kept lingering downwards.
so playfully you spread your legs open and closed them. you weren't being obvious. him on the other hand was captivated.
eyes locked onto your covered heat.
"minho." you called out. he looked back at your face so fast you wanted to laugh.
"hm?" he hummed out, casually walking out of the room, mumbling that he was going to shower.
when he did go for a bath, you pressed your ear against the door. a heat pooling in your lower abdomen at the sound of him jacking off.
"pfft and he says he can do without it" you muttered under your breath.
.
"you want my cunt so bad, don't you baby" you teased. loving the way he hid his face in the pillows beside you. it looked like he was throwing a tantrum.
"come onnn just put the collar on and then you can taste me-" you suggested, rubbing his back.
"no no no no no-" he chanted cutting you off mid sentence, voice muffled.
stubborn as hell. there was no possible way he would do it.
.
.
"was it that difficult, huh?" minho stared up at you with crazy eyes.
first of all, to get him on his knees was a hassle. and now he glared at you playfully. you let out a small laugh. he really looked like an angry kitten. the clip on cat ears and black collar around his neck made him look so soft.
"are you gonna be a goo-"
"just let me eat y-" you clicked your tongue. now he was really pissing you off. a bratty smile on his face. you just wanted to slap him.
"yes yes. now can i-"
"thats it. im done" you stood up, ready to leave. until you were pulled back. minho gripping your thighs. a look of guilt on his face.
"i'm sorry. i'll be good" he mumbled, a small pout emerging.
"promise?"
"hmmmm"
you sighed. you didn't trust him yet. so you took the leash out. his mouth opening and closing when you hooked it onto the collar. his eyes locked onto were you clutched the leash.
"wh-"
his original question turning into a breathy moan. his face plummeting between your legs.
inhaling your soaked panties for a good few seconds. before he lifted his head back up.
using his teeth to take off your panties. you could see the way his breath hitched upon seeing your cunt. it had been so long since. he saw your pussy. after days. up close. leaning in.
a firm tug to the collar. a small grunt leaving him.
"you think you can just get right into it?" you raised an eyebrow, looking down at him. he seemed to understand. his pride wouldn't let him. but reluctantly he asked.
"may i...please?"
you nodded. satisfied.
.
you gasped. fuck you hadn't even realised how much you missed his mouth on you. his tongue licking into your cunt.
nose deliciously rubbing against your clit. face practically buried there. you were worried he wouldn't be able to breathe.
so you held onto his collar, pulling him back.
"m-mmmh... i-ive been so good" he whined, breathing heavily. your essence and his spit staining his chin and nose.
you noticed he was hard. precum soaking into his sweatpants.
"don't think i didn't notice you humping my foot" you choked out.
pussy throbbing at the loss of contact. you needed his mouth back on you.
"couldn't h-help it, sorry" he apologised, keeping his head down. as if he didn't deserve it. you ran your hands through his hair, tucking a few strands behind his ear.
"its okay, kitten. use my leg, hm?" you reassured, closing your legs around his head.
"aahmmhh f-fuck" minho cried out. enveloped by your thighs. nevertheless taking the opportunity to slurp at your dripping cunt. lewd noises echoing throughout the room.
his hips slowly moving. beginning to grind against your foot. you unconciously pressed down on his cock.
a muffled whimper escaping him.
"you're such a slut, a-aren't you" you hissed out. his lips wrapped around your swollen clit. as he sucked. pushing his nose against your cunt. trying to take more than he could possibly handle.
"say it, baby. you're a slut.." he gasped, glassy eyes looking up at you. sweat dripping down his neck.
lips swollen and red.
"s-slut for...for your p-pussy" he repeated. begging to make you cum.
"dumb f-for your cunt only ahhh"
"please p-please c-cum m-mommy" your breath hitching at the name. you let him get back. cock begging for release.
"gonna cum?" you whimpered out, nearly your climax. his head shaking as he humped your leg desperately.
"c-come on kitty, make me cum"
you moaned loudly, his wet muscle shoved so deep inside of you. his own high pitched moan joining you. both of you cumming at the same time.
a wet patch on his pants. his hips still bucking as he let his tongue hang out. riding his climax out.
nevertheless he cleaned you up. licking and running his tongue through your folds. making sure to not waste a single drop of your tasty essence.
small little whines leaving him at your taste.
"my perfect kitty" you praised him. minho panting as he looked at you. pouting. asking for a kiss. his head resting against your thigh.
"good k-kitty?"
"did so good for me"
.
.
"yeah okay okay...im a hundred percent drunk on your damn pussy"
"AHAH SO I WON-"
.
.
.
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murdrdocs · 3 months
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Babe. Babe. Babe. I’m ovulating and it shows BUT. I’m thinking SO heavy abt how in MULTIPLE of ur luke fics you comment on his desire to cum inside, knowing damn well he can’t/that he’ll be able to talk her into it one day and it WONT leave my brain alone. I need a fic where reader finally lets him. I’m gnawing at the bars of my enclosure as I type this. down horrendously. send help.
creampie; MDNI – i did not realize that I did this that often erm
if he hadn't have told you verbally, with the way luke is fucking you, you would've been able to figure out what his goal was.
it was one he recently set, having been given permission by you, coupled with extremely enthusiastic consent.
truthfully, it was about time.
all of those sessions where you would see him staring longingly at your cunt after he fucked it, as if he were expecting something else to happen. all of those nights where he would hesitate before putting on a condom, plump lips parting as if he prepared to ask a question, and then promptly closing as he decided against it.
it all led to this: luke finally fucking you raw, leading himself to an orgasm that would make it all worth it.
he has you in a mating press, as if he needed to amplify his intentions even more.
the tops of your thighs pressed against your chest, your ankles and calves thrown over his shoulders, the position spreading you open to give luke access to the deepest parts of you.
he keeps mentioning it, clearly as entranced by it all as you are. little breaths of "so deep" and borderline gasps of "you feel me?" spoken into the stiff air.
you really aren't much better. the ferocity of his hips, the hunger behind each thrust, has made you go dumb. you can only respond in pornographic "yes"'s and "mhm"'s every so often. all of your energy and sense has gone to the feeling of luke driving himself in and out of you like you're nothing but a pocket pussy.
he'd already made you cum once, and another is steadily approaching. it comes closer and closer as you realize that luke is using your body.
it arrives when luke tells you he's about to cum, since you know what that means.
somehow, your brain begins to function and words form.
"please, luke. please cum in me. i need it so bad."
you sound desperate, like something out a video curated perfectly to appease audiences. but that's just how luke has made you feel. that's what he's done to you.
he presses one of your legs further down into your chest and begins to roll his hips into yours, abdominal muscles going taut as his eyelids lower to watch it all happen.
"'m close, baby. just a little..." he lets the sentence tailor off without a complete ending but its not necessary. not when his hips twitch and then still and then finally, he's spurting cum into you.
it's a foreign feeling, but in the best possible way. warm and wet, copious amounts, more than you would've expected. you think you felt him fill you out a little more for a second, but you can't even begin to consider that whenever luke pulls out and his cum follows.
you barely mourn the emptiness before luke's speaking to you.
"did so well, angel. but i need one more thing from you." he lowers your legs, kisses the tops of your calves. "push it out 'f me. need to see it, angel."
you do as told, letting his cum drip out and encouraging it a little with your last remnants of energy. luke's breath hitches, and then you flinch when his fingers probe at your entrance.
he apologizes in a soft whisper but continues his exploration. thick fingers sliding in his cum, smearing it over your cunt. when he gets up to your clit, teasing the bud with the newly added slip, you say his name. it's meant to be a warning, but it comes out more as a plea.
either way, he still chuckles through his halfhearted apology.
"can't help it," he reasons.
"just look so pretty with my cum leaking out of you."
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neo-nomatrix · 10 months
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(My) Nuisance
Hobie brown x reader
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word count: 964
find the rest of the mini series here
synopsis: You thought you hated Hobie, but for some reason you’re starting to like him just as much as you like Spiderman.
a/n: (maybe too much) british slang used
You hate your next door neighbor. No, no you loathe your next door neighbor. You think he is the worst person to possibly exist. His stupid flat decorations, his loud punk-rock music blasting at unruly hours, the way he would come back to his flat at 4 am stomping his boots yelling with his friends about their latest anarchist protest. But you hate nothing more than the way he looks at you.
Everytime you try yelling at him he opens his door with the cheekiest grin on his face. While you’re standing there fuming he’s leaning against the door panel looking you up and down. The worst part is how much he tries to smooth talk you.
“I already told you how annoying your music is, no one wants to hear that at 3 am alright? Some of us have work in the morning,” you complain, smoke practically coming out of your ears.
“Oh c’mon love it’s not that bad. Don’t have to be such a tosser ‘bout it. It messes up that pretty face of yours,” he says.
“Are you daft? You’re the one keeping everyone up at night with your dumb guitar,” you roll your eyes.
“It’s not that big a deal sweetheart. Y’know i'm starting to think you’re making up rubbish just so you can talk to me more. I’ll admit it’s pretty cute but you could just ask me out,” he leans closer to your flushed face.
“I don’t fancy you if that’s what you mean,” you scoff.
“Not saying that. I’m saying if you wanna snog me so bad you could just say so,” he shrugs.
You could burst out laughing. Kiss him? That’s fucking hilarious.
“You’re joking right? i’d rather die.”
“I don’t believe in comedy, love,” he says.
“Of course you don’t,” you mumble as you storm off back to your door.
You’ve decided he is the worst person ever. He doesn’t deserve your efforts and time.
You set your keys down and fall into bed as you hear amp feedback and the sounds of Hobie strumming his guitar. You can’t help but roll your eyes. How could someone be so incompetent?
You reach your hand over to where the bed and the wall meet to grab your Spiderman plush. You hate to admit it because it’s kind of dumb but you’ve always loved spiderman. Ever since you were a little kid you collected posters, figures, pins, and merchandise having to do with the superhero. Even now, your walls are decorated in spiderman posters, you own spiderman clothing, and even printed your keys to have a blue and red spider web on them.
There was something so nostalgic to the vigilante and his style that you had to adorn your room with touches of blue and red. You thought spiderman was the embodiment of “cool.” From his suit to the way he acted around criminals to the electric guitar on his back. Sure, a guitar was the main thing you hated about Hobie but Spiderman did it better. He made it work in the way Hobie dreams of.
You wake up to the loudest knock on your front door you’ve ever heard. You immediately know it’s him. You try to ignore the blaring pounding coming from your door but it keeps going. You force yourself to get up and answer the door. You hope you can open it, yell at him, then go back to bed.
To your dismay the second you open the door Hobie places his hand on the top of the wood, stopping you from moving it anywhere else.
“What do you want this early?” you groan.
“It’s like 9 am, love. But anyway-” He cuts himself off before finishing his sentence. You’re too groggy to notice that he’s staring inside of your flat. His eyes search the walls and decor in front of him.
“So, I take it you like Spiderman?” He laughs.
“That’s none of your business,” you sigh, crossing your arms.
He pushes his way inside of your flat, moving around like he’s looking for buried treasure. He picks up memorabilia and smiles at them. He holds up a Spider-Punk figurine and turns towards you.
“Spider-Punk huh?”
“Don’t touch my stuff! You know this is technically breaking and entering,” you scold him, taking the figure out of his hand.
He puts his hands in his pockets and just smirks at you. That stupid smirk, displaying half of his teeth and perfectly showing his lip ring.
“What do you want from me, Hobie?” you question after placing the figure back on its stand.
“Jus- Just wanted to apologize for last night,” he starts.
“You mean this morning? We talked at 1 am, remember?” You say, passive aggressively.
“Right, whatever. You’re… You’re right,” he exhaled, “I shouldn’t be blasting my music that early. It’s inconsiderate and rude to the people in my vicinity,” he breathes.
In the time you’ve known him you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say sorry. You’re taken aback, did he really apologize? And did he sound genuinely sorry?
“Oh, oh uhm thanks,” you sat, still skeptical a camera crew would come out laughing saying this whole thing was a prank.
“I wanted to see if you maybe wanted to come to my show tonight? We could get dinner after or whatever you want,” He scratches the back of his neck, he’s nervous.
“I’d like that, I guess,” you reluctantly say.
“Wicked. Uhm, i’ll be leaving then. Sorry again,” he says. Shooting finger guns at you and making his way out the door.
You smile, maybe, just maybe, Hobies getting to you. As he’s leaving you could swear you see some blue and red material with spikes on it slipping out of his pocket.
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pandoraslxna · 5 months
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Too close to the sun
adult Ao’nung x female metkayina reader x adult Neteyam
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Words: 10.6k
Summary: Ao’nung loved you as Icarus loved the sun- too close, too much.
Warnings: explicit smut, mmf threesome, ooc Neteyam, biting, p in v, oral, toxic behavior, jealousy, possessive behavior, best friends with benefits, fake dating, angst, one sided love, double penetration, anal
Adult Neteyam / Ao‘nung art by the amazing @cinetrix 🩵
Notes: I was aiming for porn and it got emotional my bad
Translation:
Tsawke = sun
Sevin = pretty
Paskalin = honey
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"Everyone knows the story of Icarus, who Daedalus warned not to fly too near to the sea, nor too close to the sun.
Have caution, they are saying, because when they tell you this story they are Daedalus.
Have caution, I am saying, because when I tell you this story, you are Ikarus and I am the sun."
— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —
Ao’nung wasn’t always in love with you. And there’s nothing he wishes more, than for the time to come back where he wasn’t. That time, before that dumb arrangement.
It was a double edged sword.
It wasn't so much a friends with benefits arrangement as it was a assured destruction. Because Ao’nung hadn’t known what he was agreeing to.
“Nungy, would you do me a favour?”

You see, spending every possible second with you has taught Ao’nung to be cautious, to pick up on those minuscule changes in your voice, in your eyes. And the way you called him by this silly little nickname made goosebumps break out over his skin, because whenever you blinked up at him with those big doe eyes and that innocent little smile and then called him nungy, he knew that there was something that you wanted and he also knew that there was no way he could ever deny you.

“I’ll do you one too,” you promised, tilting your head, a mischievous smile tugging on the corner of your lips. Oh, you little…

“…alright. What do you want now, hm?”

Looking back, Ao’nung realizes that this was his first mistake. His next mistake was not getting up and running when you grinned at him like he was some prey that just walked into your trap. His biggest mistake, however, was not saying no when you proposed this strange arrangement.
"Please pretend that you… that you want me. That there’s something between us. Just for a while nungy, please. Maybe that would make him jealous, would make him realize that he wants me too."

Or maybe he made the first mistake long before that. Maybe his biggest mistake was to befriend that little girl he made fun of, twenty years ago. Or maybe it was making fun of you in the first place. Maybe he should’ve never picked on you, should’ve never made you cry, maybe he should’ve never went to you and apologize, because he has never apologized to anyone else ever before. Maybe he shouldn’t have blushed like an idiot when you accepted his apology, swung your little arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug, told him it was okay. Maybe, just maybe, he should’ve never made the girl cry that then accepted his apology so unconditionally that Ao’nung swore he would never let anything bad happen to you ever again, because you were the first person to accept him as he is, that could see through his façade and saw something good. Something worth to be loved.
He hadn’t known that he was agreeing to losing himself and becoming inseparable from you. Or maybe he had, he’d already known he needed you like his lungs needed air to breathe when it was just friendship between the two of you. He just hadn’t counted on how much his own helplessness to the whole situation would drive him crazy. How it would only be a matter of time before you sunk beneath his bones and nurtured this deep seated familiarity into a love so fierce that he would question if he had ever truly been in love before you came along.
But your love was directed to someone else.
Every single nerve-ending burned with the desire to haul a fist over and slam it into his face. It was on the verge of painful just to hold his muscles tightly still whenever he was around. If he did anything to this piece of shit, Ao’nung knew he would be the one to get punished for it.
Neteyam. He’s the one his tsawke was so head over heels for. The omatikaya prince that grew roots on his island a couple of years ago when his family sought otulu within his clan.
Ao’nung knew you had your eyes on him ever since you took part in training him for his second iknimaya with the metkayina. But he didn’t deserve your kindness. Neteyam didn’t deserve any of the things you did for him, the things you still do. Not with the way he had that filthy grin on his face when his eyes roamed your body. Not with the way he acted all innocent and kind in front of others, but his true nature made Ao’nung scrunch his nose in disgust.
Neteyam just wasn’t a good guy. Sure, he had this special talent in making others believe that he was, but he certainly wasn’t.
You’ve spent years trying to get his attention with courting gifts, fleeting touches and seductive words. But while Neteyam seemingly tried to leave his filthy fingertips on every women in the village, he barely paid you any mind. Just enough though, once in a while, to keep you wanting him, keep you on edge. Like this was all just a fun little game to him.
But what shocked Ao’nung most was, that you knew. You knew that he was a flirt, knew that he slept around, knew that he was playing with you, kept your hopes up for years on end but never returned any of these feelings or kind gestures to you and yet you still couldn’t peel your eyes away from him. It made his blood boil, because how could a smart little thing like you be so blind, so dumb to fall for him, of all people?
Truth be told, Ao’nung wasn’t even sure if part of the reason he agreed to any of this was that he was hoping it would work. Ao’nung was hoping this would get Neteyam jealous, he was hoping this would hurt him as much as it hurt you to find him flirting with another woman yet again, to find him wearing the bracelet you made while his hand was buried between another woman’s thighs. Yes, Ao’nung hoped it would hurt him. Even if he was hurting himself on the way.
But by eywa, could hurting himself feel any better?
The first time he gave in to you was intense. It left you with a noticeable, unplaceable stiffness in your walk the next morning, but aching to have him again. Ao’nung found himself unable to lean his weight fully against anything for three days, his muscles sore, feeling thicker than usual. There were gouges from your nails in his back, bruises from his hands on your body, marks from his teeth everywhere they could possibly cover. Marks that were normally meant for no one to see, yet you displayed them like they were art, meant to be noticed, to be seen.
"Louder, tsawke. Let him hear you."
He doesn’t know what drives him more insane. The feeling of your walls clamping down around his cock, squeezing him so painfully tight it felt like he might come undone at any second. Or the knowledge that you were doing this only now that he had mentioned him. Not that it actually mattered.
A wet rhythmic smack of flesh against flesh filled the air in your marui. Ao’nungs hands were at your hips in a tight grasp, your cheek shoved against the ground, ass high in the air as he pounded into you.
"Let him hear how good I’m making you feel", he whispered against the shell of your ear. "Moan my name."
Selfish, yes.
But you just sound so sweet when you gasp his name like that, with that whiny tone in your voice that’s halfway muffled into the sheets, little punched out moans garnishing the whole thing before his cock started throbbing inside you.
He made sure Neteyam heard every little noise you made, every moan, every whimper and every filthy squelch of his cock drilling into your wet heat. Ao’nung made sure he heard all of it. You were his, he let himself believe. Even if it was just for now, just for this.
"Ao’nung!" The name rolled off your tongue as a whimper, a gasp, followed by a choked-off moan as he gripped your hips and pressed himself closer against you, buried his face into the crook of your neck and lapped at the bite marks that he only recently put there.
Anyone could claim their mate with a courting gift, he thought proudly, sucking yet another hickey into your throat as he simultaneously trusted into you. But these bites and hickeys, they were an art that required precise observation from their presenter and the complete trust from their acceptor.
These weren’t cold, lifeless symbols of affection, no. You couldn’t just take them off. But they had short lifespans, often only a few days, a week if he was lucky. And this gave him the opportunity to continue to give you new ones over and over, of different sizes, shapes and colors; and if he didn't feel like putting them on your throat, then he could put them on your breasts, your hips, on your wrists, your shoulders or your thighs.
Your entire body was an available canvas for these markings and he took great advantage of this.
Ao’nung liked having the ability to move them and create new ones as the old faded and disappeared. He liked having the opportunity to accept and receive his own markings when your old ones had once again retreated from sight.
They were profoundly intimate, a powerful symbol that was physically felt each and every time it was given to an extent that any other courting gift never would be.
— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —
Yesterday night’s memories were still pretty much livid in front of his minds eye as Ao’nung not so subtle failed to listen to his so called friends about whatever they were talking about.
Nothing they weren’t used to. It’s not like he had ever actively participated in a conversation that wasn’t about him, anyways. And it’s not like he cares much about what that says about him. Ao’nung knows these guys aren’t really his friends. At least not like you are. They’re more like his goons, brainless little minions that have been following him around and would listen to every one of his orders since the day they found out he will be the next olo’eyktan. He’s almost certain that they wouldn’t stick to him if it weren’t for this fact.
Gentle waves rock him back and forth on his tsurak, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the vast ocean, his spear-gun strapped to his back as they wait for the rest of the hunting party to join them.
Ao’nung doesn’t need a mirror to know that he must’ve looked like he was ready to commit a crime when some of the younger hunters were accompanied by the Sully brothers, and he wonders which of these skxawngs had invited them so he knew which of them to exile from any hunts for the next month or so.
Neteyam greets the others first as he approches, polite as ever, but there’s a knowing, dirty little grin reserved just for him as he turns in his direction to reach a hand out for him to shake, like they’re friends. Ao’nung fights the urge to scoff and roll his eyes at that.
Reaching their chosen spot, he then signals the other hunters to prepare their fishing spears and nets. Each of them take their position, their eyes keenly scanning the water's surface for any sign of movement, while some others submerge into the deeper water.
However, Ao’nungs own eyes are unfocused. He has a hard time concentrating on anything other than that insufferable forest boy swimming only mere inches away from him. Like letting his five fingered freak of a brother participate wasn’t already enough of an insult to his warriors pride. No, now there were two of these demon spawns here with him. He knew Neteyam wasn’t even doing anything particular annoying, yet it felt like he was taunting him with every breath he took.
It was as if he could sense his thoughts, because a shadow suddenly casts over the spot Ao’nung had aimed his spear to, making it impossible for him to see through the waters surface. Looking up, Ao‘nung is then met with a pair of golden eyes and sharp teeth grinning back at him.
Any complain about Neteyam blocking out the sun so the man would hopefully move and bother someone else dies on his tongue, the moment his gaze lands on the shiny pearl that’s dangling over his shoulder, tidily braided into a strand of ink-black hair.
Ao’nung would probably recognize this white pearl everywhere. He was with you the day you had found the shell, had watched you crave and polish it for hours. He had wordlessly sat besides you, pondering if you even realized that a similar pearl garnished his songcord as a reminder of the day he had met you. That he had once sat where you sat, spent hours working in concentration to crave the pearl from such a filigree shell that his hands were hurting for days, hoping you would return the gesture to him one day.
"Neat, huh?" The omatikaya smiles, but it’s not a genuine one, before he brushes through his braids and twirls the pearl between his fingertips. It makes Ao’nung snap out of his thoughts, and he’s quick to advert his gaze to the sun, secretly hoping it will burn his eyes so he would never have to look at it on him again.
He just hums, barely a coherent response. While he wants to agree, simply for the fact that you had made it, he would also rather die than compliment the demons son. And he knows Neteyam just want to force a reaction out of him, so he chose to end the conversation right here and wordlessly swims a little further, where he then aims his spear to the waters surface, targeting a fish with precision and—
"Almost as pretty as the little thing that made it for me." Neteyam squints his eyes at him as he chuckles, and this time his amusement is sincere. Aimed to hit a nerve.
With a swift motion, Ao'nung hurles his spear into the water, but it completely misses the shimmery fish that had caught his eyes.
He turns to glare at the man that’s practically begging to be the next target. His Tsurak growls, making the water around him vibrate as it feels the anger radiating off his rider through the bond.
"I didn’t mean to insult you", Neteyam laughs and shakes his head, holding his hands up in surrender. "You two are awfully close, no?"
With a sigh, he regains his composure, takes a deep breath and, afraid that whatever might come out of his mouth would only start something that wouldn’t do him good, simply choose to nod instead, his eyebrows still drawn together tightly. Neteyams grin still hasn’t vanished, yet he seems to mimic the way Ao’nungs spine had straightened, which in return made him feel like he was under interrogation.
"How come I still haven’t seen any courting gifts on her then? Whatever it is called that you have with her, is that some kind of arrangement or…?"
"Nothing that should concern you, forest boy", he cuts him off.
"Hmh, right." Neteyam nods and Ao’nung can’t help but pray to eywa that this would finally be the end of this uncomfortable conversation. Unfortunately, it is not, as the forest boy then swims a little closer, his voice low as he says, "Well, by the sound of the moans you knock out of her", a look comes over Neteyams face, and it sickens him to realize it was arousal. "I may have to try my hand at her sometime too, just to see what all the fuss is about. Seems like she loves to spread her thighs for just anyone."
Ao’nung balled his fists, and ground his teeth together so hard, he was almost certain he could hear a crack. It took every last ounce of energy not to lunge at him.
Neteyams words whispered over and over and over in his head, a rolling loop that he thought might actually drive him insane.
— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —
Never had left him a hunting trip so tense before, Ao’nung realized, sighing as he lowered himself into the water. It was warm and relaxing, soothing his tense muscles and the ache he felt.
He seemed to get like this a lot lately, feeling stressed and tense and trying harder than ever to will himself to sleep, to concentrate and to stop thinking about this. But it was impossible. Ao’nung found his mind going back to the same problem over and over again and he found worry and jealousy rising in the pit of his gut more and more.
It had been some time since his last visit to the hot springs in the center of the island, and at least the waters were soothing on his overworked body. Not to mention the way your hands were gently running over his shoulders, as you positioned yourself to straddle his lap.
The hot spring was large, a natural pool that sat surrounded by smooth stones, leaving the air here steamy and considerably warmer than the rest of the forest. A popular spot to bath for the metkayina, but tonight it was calm and empty.
Long, ropy vines hung low and mingled with purple leafy plants above him. Bountiful beds of marigold, azure, blazing red, and creamy orange blossoms lined the space that the pool inhabited. Small particles of pollen danced in the steam that rose to the sky. Blue-green moss coated the rocks where their surface was wet and slick from the humidity.
You had both stripped out of your clothes, long past being uncomfortable with each other's nudity. Your warm, soft breasts now pressed against his chest, thighs framing his waist and his body finally relaxes as he deeply inhales the swirling aromas of both, the hot spring, filled with oils and herbs, and also your sweet natural scent.
Ao’nung rests his back against a rock that had been weathered smooth, his hands gliding over the soft skin of your back, up and down, as you continue to knead the tight muscles of his shoulders and neck. Through the upper canopy of the trees he could see night draw in and a soft rumble filled his chest as he pulled you closer.
"Still not going to talk to me about what happened today?"
Your playful voice is what makes him pry his eyes open and unfortunately return his mind to the moment and todays memories.
"Nothing happened today, tsawke. I already told you", he grumbles.
"You know I can tell when you’re lying", you push and Ao‘nung wants to roll his eyes, but he misses the strength to do so. Instead, he just buries his face into the crock of neck and makes a sound of annoyance. "And you’re never like this after a hunt. Normally, I can’t even get you to shut up about how you made the biggest catch and how you’re oh so much better than everyone else, how they’re all just a bunch of skxawngs and– ", you begin to mock him, but can’t finish the sentence as a teasing little giggle bursts out of you.
"That does not sound like me at all", he protests, yet can’t hide the lazy grin forming on his lips.
It’s moments like these that Ao’nung values most about your friendship. It feels so intimate and natural, the way you so playfully interact with him. How close you are, physically and mentally. You take care of each other, even if the ways in which you do, go beyond any normal friendship. It just feels so good to be in your presence, it makes him forget about the world around him for a while. Makes him forget why he was even so tense, what exactly had plagued his mind in the first place. There was just you now.
Ao’nung doesn’t even try to wipe the woozy smile from his face as he listens to your soft giggles and the joy it brings you to tease him, to know that you’re the only one allowed to do this and continue unharmed. Oh, how you loved to take advantage of the soft spot he had for you.
Your chest was still pressed firmly against his own, droplets of water running down your collarbone and collecting in a small puddle where your breasts are squished together. You wear your hair up in a bun, a few messy strands sticking to the sweaty skin of neck and forehead and Ao’nung thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes upon.
Between soft laughs as you mimic his cocky way of presenting himself, he catches you off guard as he suddenly presses his lips against yours.
He knows there’s no reason to do this. You’re all alone out here, so there’s no point in trying to make someone jealous that wasn’t even there to witness it. But from time to time, both of you had sought the other out just to get some sort of relief, so this wasn’t really something new to either of you. This agreement had long become more than a means to make Neteyam jealous. Besides, if he had to pick something he would get out of this agreement, it was this. After all, you promised him a favor if he would agree.
Your lips are soft and your tongue tastes warm and sweet as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head and cradling the back of your head to get better access. It doesn’t even take a heartbeat for you to relax into the kiss, exhaling a soft sigh as your arms encircle his neck and pull him closer.
The gentle sway of the water fuses you tighter together, and soon you’re rubbing and grinding against each others wet bodies. His hands are everywhere on you, pushing and pulling and kneading every inch of skin until your cheeks are flushed red and you’re panting against his lips.
"Please", you whisper softly, and he feels your thighs squeeze around his middle. Your hands roam over the muscles of his chest, then down over his abs, between your bodies, until they reach the base of his cock. "Please, can you…"
"Can I what?", Ao’nung breathes against your lips. He plants open mouthed kisses from the corner of your lips to your jaw, down to your throat. "Talk to me, tsawke. Tell me what you want."
"Touch me", you say, and it’s so whiny it almost sounds like a complain. Meanwhile your hands begin to stroke and squeeze up and down the length of his cock. It makes him chuckle as he licks a wet stripe from your collarbone down to your breast, "But I am touching you."
You make a frustrated sort of noise and Ao’nung smiles, softly, fondly, and then he carefully closes his teeth around a nipple and tugs.
"Fu– Fuck, c-come…on", you pant, "You know what I mean! Just— please!"
His tongue traces from your breast back up to your throat, where he buries his face into your skin to inhale more of that natural sweet scent you release. Ao’nung let’s out a deep groan once you stroke him a little faster and it almost makes him forget what he was supposed to do with his own hands.
"Please, Ao’nung", you whine again, but what snaps him out of his aroused trance isn’t your pleading voice. It’s the sound of someone else approaching the hot spring with a low chuckle.
"It’s not nice to make a woman beg like this."
You inhale a sharp gasp, pressing yourself tighter against Ao’nungs chest in an attempt to shield your naked front from any unwanted viewers. His tattooed arms hold you close, encircled around your back and covering your skin as much as possible. With his eyebrows knit together, he glances over the top of your head to see who was stupid enough to interrupt his alone time with you.
"Oh, please don’t stop on my account. I was enjoying the show."
Neteyam. Oh isn’t this just great, Ao’nung thinks to himself, grinding his teeth as he watches toruk maktos eldest step into his direct view.
There’s a sharp grin plastered on his entirely too perfect face. And this man dares to call himself a warrior? There’s not a hint of a scar on his skin, not one tattoo adorning his body that could tell of his victories, his hunts. He might as well be a nobody.
"What are you doing here?" The grip Ao’nung has on you is possessively tight and for a moments he thinks he’s the reason for your breath has stopped.
"Well, what do you think?", Neteyam chuckles and the golden color of his eyes seems to glint in the moonlight as they rake over your exposed back. "I came here to bath, just didn’t know this spot was already… occupied."
It’s a reasonable response. But not even close to a good enough reason for him to stay.
"You can leave then."
Neteyam did not seem to share the same thought.
"Hm, I don’t think I will. Besides, that gives us the chance to continue our nice conversation from earlier, don’t you think?"
Ao’nungs growl rumbles from deep within his chest as he watches him step closer to the hot spring. Briefly, he remembers that he had very clearly warned the brat to stay away from you this morning, even if it was through gritted teeth and words that were generally much nicer than the ones he would’ve preferred to use.
Neteyams hands were already working to untie the knot that held his loincloth together, before he paused for a moment. A quick glance to your face and Ao’nung was met with the sight of your widened eyes, lips slightly parted as you were obviously trying and failing to proceed what was even happening. Neteyam then pauses.
"Unless you…", with a tilt of his head his eyes meet yours, a sly smile pulling at the corner of his lips, "want me to leave?"
Taken aback, your breath hitches in your throat. There’s a look of uncertainty on your face, as if you were struggling to express what you wanted. If you even knew what you wanted, Ao’nung thought. Your eyes then skipped between both men for a moment, a blush spreading over your cheeks so deep, they were almost turning purple now.
Ao’nung feels his chest tighten as you glanced from Neteyam to him, and then back to Neteyam. For a moment he’s scared you would tell him to leave, now that what must’ve been a dream to you finally seemed to come true. But you don’t. You just say nothing.
"That’s what I thought. You don’t mind if I do, right?" A soft rumble filled the man’s chest, almost a purr, as he untied his loincloth and then stepped into the water.
Your breathing had picked up rapidly, Ao’nung realized, feeling the way your chest pushed against his own as you inhaled quick, shallow pants of air. There’s a moment of very uncomfortable silence, made worse only by the tension that filled the air as Neteyam let out a content sigh after making himself comfortable, sitting with his back against a rock, arms sprawled out over the edge of the hot spring like he owned the place.
His abs tense just above the waters surface as he stifles a laugh, and he brushes a loose braid behind his ear while his eyes seem to be glued to yours.
"By the look on her face I assume you haven’t told her about our conversation from this morning?" He asks, his gaze moving for just a split second to look at him. You seem to follow his example and crane your neck up to look at him questioningly, your brows raised high.
Ao’nung can't think about what he's supposed to say now. If he thinks too much about it, he'll end up punching him in the face and it probably won't end there. It’s like Neteyam can read his mind, or maybe he’s just good at reading facial expressions, because he’s quick to give an answer to the confused look on your face before Ao’nung even has the chance to open his mouth.
"Sevin", Neteyam says and Ao’nung wants to vomit, "why don’t you turn and face me, hm? It’s rude not to look at the person that is talking to you, don’t you think?"
Ao’nungs arms tighten around you, so hard it’s like he’s afraid you‘ll float away if he won’t hold you close enough.
But then you whisper a soft, "It’s okay", and uncontrolled jealousy punched right at his gut as you wriggled yourself free.
It’s almost like he had forgotten for a moment that this was kinda part of the deal. That he’s not the one that’s supposed to be jealous. That if he were a good friend, he would’ve gotten up and left ten minutes ago, give the two of you some space, help you achieve the goal you’ve been working so hard for the past year or so.
Usually, Ao’nung could camouflage all and any feelings from anyone very well behind angry glares and scornful smiles. He was an impenetrable wall for those around him. Except for you, of course, who could normally read him like an open book. But now that your attention was entirely directed to someone else, you couldn’t even see the way a flash of hurt and jealousy came over his face for just a heartbeat.
Your hands trembled as he helped maneuver you to sit on his lap, facing Neteyam that sat opposite of you.
"That’s much better, isn’t it?" He grins and you give him a sheepish little nod, blushing even deeper as he purrs a whispered praise. Ao’nungs arms encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him. He feels the soft of your bottom pressed against his crotch, and if it weren’t for the current situation, he would’ve loved nothing more than to slide into you and take you just like this. Unfortunately, the omatikaya sitting right in front him then continues to talk and sets every single nerve inside him on fire with the urge to get up and push his head under the waters surface until he stops mov—
"I meant what I said, by the way." He says and all of those murderous thoughts inside his head come to an halt. "There’s no need to stop doing what you’re doing just because I’m here."
He wants to laugh in the forest boy’s face, but decides to shove it back down and manages to keep his expression impassive.
"On the contrary. I‘m very content with watching." A seductive little wink is send your way and Ao’nungs whole body tenses. Neteyams gaze then lands on him and Ao’nung suddenly knows that he wants him to try something.
Ao’nung has a temper. He‘s always had a temper, everyone knows, and Neteyam is just trying to be provocative, Ao’nung tries to remind himself. But now his temper already flares, bright and white-hot, and he almost doesn't care about a response, doesn’t care about what he could answer to this as long as it hurts, so he bites his tongue hard enough to taste copper.
It’s unfortunate for both of them, that Neteyam can’t seem to shut up, despite the fact that neither him nor you had said anything yet. He‘s confident in every word that leaves his mouth, not even caring about what the two of you would think of him as he goes on, "Oh, right, I almost forgot. Since your dear friend hasn’t told you yet, I guess it’s my duty to enlighten you."
One of his hands curls into a fist and he can't seem to relax it, before he realizes it’s your hip that he’s squeezing. Not hard enough to hurt, but he lingers for a long moment before he can force himself to loosen up. He apologizes with a fleeting kiss to your shoulder, making sure to hold eye contact with the man in front of him, like it’s two Pxazang‘s battling for territory.
"Ao’nung and I had a very nice conversation this morning, and he actually made the proposal to…", his lip curls into a dangerous smile, "share you."
Ao’nungs mind goes blank. He wasn’t prepared for this.
Share you? But he did not…
His mouth opens to object, but all words seem to fail him, his brain struggling to keep up with what was happening, while he simultaneously tried to understand what Neteyam wanted to achieve with this lie.
"If that is something you would want, of course."
There it is again, that act of fake innocence, pretending to be oh, such a good and caring guy. It breaks his heart to see it working so well on you.
You glance up at him with those nantang puppy eyes full of hope and anticipation, "You… You did?"
But there’s silence and Ao’nung just looks at you. He listens once Neteyam opens his mouth again, he has to listen because his throat feels too dry to speak.
"Oh, yeah", he responds for him. A white lie, like everything else he had told you so far. "He told me how good of a friend you are and that this would be something you would truly enjoy. And I know for a fact that you really deserve this."
No. No, you don’t deserve this, don’t deserve him. And sharing you like this was never part of the deal, it wasn’t part of the agreement to take a part in any of this, to watch his filthy hands touch you. Ao’nung was never one to share his possessions– he never talked about his feelings, he just acted, knowing what he wanted and going for it. That was how he did everything; with quick deliberation leading to a fast resolve, quite the opposite of Neteyams tendency to manipulate.
"You’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you? Letting your friend arrange this for you", Neteyam chuckles and Ao’nung realizes just now, how much you’re squirming on his lap. "Why don’t you show me just how sweet your are, hm sevin?"
He’s only playing a role, Ao’nung has to remind himself. As much as he prayed for it to become reality, you weren’t his. He was just your friend. But if being a good friend meant to participate in whatever this was, so be it. At least he could be here for you, take care of you even when you were in another man’s arms.
It was comforting, in a way. Comforting like rays of sun soaking into his skin, so much so, that he‘ll forget what damage they can do if he stays to long under her comfortable shine. He‘ll burn, sooner or later, feel the pain when it’s already too late. But it feels good now, so he tries to stop worrying about everything else.
The feeling of your slick rubbing against his thighs reached a point where it was impossible for him to ignore, even though it hurt to know he wasn’t the main reason for this.
His gaze never leaves its target sitting across from him, not even as he dips his hands below the waters surface and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. The surprised little squeak you emit was kind of cute, he thought, as he lifted you out of the hot spring.
Your soft hands cling to him as Ao’nung makes himself comfortable, sitting down onto the flat rocks that enclose the pool of water, while he holds yourself up and open for Neteyam to see. Your legs are spread as far as they can go, and said omatikaya can be seen swallowing the salvia that pools in his mouth at the sight.
You were a piece of art; gorgeous, pretty and wet, droplets of water running down your curves, mixing with arousal that ran down your thighs. But you were also pretentious, greedy, and entirely spoiled and that was entirely his fault. And he knew how to play that card all too well.
Ao’nung nuzzled his nose against your cheek, up to your ear where he whispered, "You want him? Then show him", before licking the shell of your ear, making you shudder in his hold.
Even he felt the flush of dark embarrassment tickle up your spine, before you wriggled a hand free and lowered it between your spread thighs. A fingertip slid between your folds, teasing your slippery entrance with a quiet whimper.
"Don’t be shy", Ao’nung murmured, nipping on your throat. "C‘mon, tsawke. Be a good girl and put a finger in."
Nodding, you pressed your index finger against your slippery entrance, slowly pushing in to the last knuckle. Then, you wriggle a second finger in beside the first one, and start to ease them out together, then back in; a slow, slick push.
The moans that tumble from your parted lips are like the sweetest most familiar melody to him. To Neteyam, they are the reason one of his hands has disappeared below the surface, casting ripples in the water.
You curve your finger a little more and pick up the pace, thrusting them faster. The squelching sounds they coax out from between your thighs filled his ears, growing louder by the second. It was only overturned by the sound of his own ragged breathing, his heart thumping against his chest in the same rhythm his cock throbbed heavily, yearning for friction, for your hands to touch him, your tight cunt to wrap around his length and swallow him whole.
"Just like that, you’re doing so good", Ao’nung coos softly against the shell of your ear, "Look how much he’s enjoying the show. See what you do to him?" He tips his chin up and your eyes flutter open to get a glance of Neteyam. His ears are pinned back, eyes half lidded, with lips slightly parted and chest heaving as he strokes himself under the water. Ao’nung has to swallow back his own pride in order to play this role, yet he enjoys being the one that can touch you so freely while all Neteyam can do is watch as it happens. "He wants to touch you so bad", he chuckles lowly into your ear and your body decides to respond for you, hips canting forward to push your own fingers in deeper. "I bet he wants to know what you feel like, warm and wet around him. How tight you are. Fuck, if only he knew how good it feels whenever you come around my cock, the way you squeeze me. See his eyes? He’s hungry for you, tsawke. He wants to know how you taste like, too."
A helpless little whimper escapes you from his words and Ao’nung grins, the tip of his fangs sparking with mischief. "Should we make him watch, hm? Or do you want to invite him?"
"Nung", you mewl, plead with your eyes as you glance over your shoulder to meet his.
"I won’t do it for you", he whispers, tilting his head towards the other man with a sigh, "Use your words if you want him."
Your eyes follow his line of sight. Neteyam groans, then closes his eyes for a brief second and throws his head back in bliss, before he looks back at you with a dirty smile.
"What is it, hm?", Neteyam asks, "What do you want, paskalin?"
Your toes curl at the sound of his voice, raspy and laced with a certain type of hunger that could only be satisfied by one thing alone. And that thing is you. Breath hitching, you make a whiny little noise that almost sounds like a plea for the forest boy’s name, but that seems to be all you manage.
"Can’t get the words out, huh?", he chuckles, "That’s okay. Fuck, just look at that pretty pussy, doing all the talking for you. Look how she’s dripping, so eager to be filled, but your hands aren’t enough, are they? You need my help, pretty girl?"
Ao’nungs own fingers itch to help you out, to show him just how perfectly he can fill you with them. That there’s no need for this demons spawn here, that he’s the only one you need to satisfy you.
You seem to think otherwise, because you’re nodding quick and desperate, and Neteyam groans at the sight of your clenching hole once you had pulled your fingers out. A wordless inventions for him to take their place. So Ao’nung continues to hold your legs open wide as Neteyam pushes himself off the rocks and approaches slowly, gracefully walking through the waist deep water to stand before you.
With the way Ao’nung had hoisted you up and held you spread open as he sat on the flat rocks surrounding the hot spring, Neteyam didn’t even had to kneel or crouch to be eye level with what he craved most and the realization made him lick his lips in anticipation.
His hands find the soft of your thighs, caressing your skin before he placed soft kisses here and there, making you shiver in Ao’nungs hold. With his eyes entirely fixed on yours, Neteyam then runs the tip of his tongue through your wet folds and groans at the taste.
"Eywa, woman", he curses under his breath, then attaches his lips to where your slick oozes out in a clear, honey-like stream. "You’re so sweet, paskalin", it’s muffled against your cunt, before he withdraws and glances up at Ao’nung. "Does she always get this wet?"
You let out an impatient whimper and Ao’nung places a soothing kiss to your shoulder.
"For me?", he chuckles, the sound low and dangerous and he feels the goosebumps rise on your body. "Every single time, yes."
Neteyam grins. "Must be my lucky day then. Look how she’s dripping for me."
He takes his sweet time returning to you then, kissing and stroking everywhere but where you need him, but when he finally does, you gasp and moan as he nibbles at your clit, arches when he cups your ass and, with the soft sucking noises he makes, it felt he was drinking you in.
You moaned again, breathlessly, bonelessly, and your back arched away from Ao’nungs chest, or at least you tried to. Feeling so good, so stupidly happy, Neteyam then ran his tongue up and down your slit again and your moans turned into a wail.
He returned to lick and suck at your clit, alternating with a smooth up-and-down stroke with two of his fingers, teasing and circling your clit, then gently prodding them at your entrance.
"Mnnh– Fuck, ah, please, please", you whimpered breathlessly, hips bucking helplessly to get his fingers to slip inside, your head falling fully back against Ao’nungs chest. "Neteyam, p-please!"
But Neteyam only sped up, his tongue wet and rough and steady against your clit, groaning into you at the sound of his name from your lips, and pressing his face against your pussy like you actually taste of nectar or honey or any of those tooth rotting sweet fruit the Sullys enjoyed to eat.
Meanwhile, Ao’nung placed several open mouthed kisses from your throat to your jaw, enough of an hint to make you turn your head and claim your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. It was wet and filthy, just tongues and teeth as he devoured you, as Neteyam devoured your other set of lips.
You were moaning into the kiss, wanton and desperate, before finally, a set of fingers were pushed past your entrance and curled just right, while Neteyam kissed and sucked on your clit so passionately, Ao’nung felt the way your whole body tensed.
And then, then you were coming, bucking, crying out weakly even though it seemed you had no breath left in you. Shuddering and shuddering all through your body, shuddering between two hot bodies who worshipped you, who were holding you, staring at you like prey- beautiful, delicious prey, both of them so very hungry for you.
"Good girl", was murmured lowly into your ear, "Keep coming for us, c’mon let it all out. Let him taste how delicious you are."
Neteyams tongue continued to lap at your flowing arousal, groaning against your folds between filthy slurping noises. "Hmm, fuck. Is that all for me? So good, paskalin, you taste so good."
You kept your eyes closed and let the little tremors and aftershocks go through you, just breathing in tiny happy hums, because, eywa bless them to whatever heaven existed, they were both still touching you, gently and slowly. Neteyam kissing you softly, Ao’nung nuzzling his face into the crock of your neck, sucking on your throat, until eventually your breathing slowed, and you swallowed, opening your eyes.
Immediately, you were met with two golden eyes, looking up at you from between your thighs.
"Neteyam", you pant, "m-more. I want more. Please."
"Oh, do you?", he chuckles as he rises to stand on his full height, towering over you. "You’re such a cute little thing, so needy." He tips your chin up with a finger, then tilts his head as he grins down at you. "Think you can take both of us?"
There’s the sound of an audible gulp and neither Neteyam nor Ao‘nung himself can stifle a chuckle at this. You squirm in his arms for that one, grinding down against his cock that’s been trapped between his stomach and your lower back, making him grunt.
"I‘ll take that as a yes", Neteyam smiles wickedly, exchanging a look with Ao‘nung. He then stepped just a little closer, truly sandwiching you between them both before he hooked an arm under your thigh so Ao’nung could trace his hand down your spine and dip it down lower. Goosebumps run up your neck as his hand kneads one of your ass cheeks and then slides between them. Ao’nung expertly locates your dripping entrance from behind, fingers swirling in your arousal, dipping inside for good measure and he hums lowly at the sound of your weak little moans.
You’re always wet, always wet for him, beautiful and perfect, eywa, the way you just fit, it's like you plug into everything, everything that makes him high, incoherent, hard.
"You want this?", Ao’nung whispers into your ear, his tongue teasing your lobe. You clench around his fingers and give him a quick, desperate nod, so eager to be filled. He grins at that. His fingers retreat, covered in arousal he lets them glide between your cheeks to feel for your puckered hole.
"You want me in here, hm?"
Your whiny whimper of "Yes, please!" is completely satisfying to his ears. Your lack of surprise makes Neteyam realize you’ve done this before, and that mental image is a delicious one. One finger then eases into your tight hole slowly, fluidly. Neteyam watches with hungry, half lidded eyes as Ao’nung spreads you open on one and then two of his thick fingers, watches how expertly you take him in as he spreads your legs a little further to give the other man more space to work with. More slick is running down your pretty cunt, like a silent plea for him to fill it.
It's not long, though, before you’re squirming, the position you’re in making it impossible to push back against his fingers but they both know you’re trying to. It’s also not long until your moans turn louder, back arching, and you make a sound of protest when Ao’nung finally pulls his fingers out and deems you as loose enough. His cock is so painfully hard, leaking more pre-cum than he thought was even possible. He had to get inside you now, had to have you because in the back of his mind there still lingered this thought that after this, it could’ve been the last time he would get to feel you, to hold you, to fuck you, ever again.
So he wraps an arm around you, the other hand securing your thigh, while both of Neteyams hands hold onto the underside of your knees to spread your legs for them.
"Together then", Neteyam grins and Ao’nung can’t help but glare at him over your shoulder. Not even this situation could change anything about the grudge he’s holding against that forest boy.
A quick glance down your front reveals the sight of Neteyam pushing the length of his cock between your slippery folds, lubing himself with your slick.
The tremor that passes through your body seems more intense than usual, once you feel Ao’nung get into position too.
"Breathe, tsawke", he says, the tip of his cock nudging against your backside. You nod, inhale, exhale, and then they both push into you slowly, spreading you apart. Another whimper tumbles from your lips, your eyes squeezing shut and Ao’nung places a tender kiss to your temple as he slides further in.
"Good girl, just relax for me", he coos, "you’re doing so good."
For a moment it's too much, you’re way too tight and he thinks your body just can't reach that far, but then Neteyam seems to be fully inside while he slowly pushes deeper with minimal resistance. Neteyam groans, his grip on your legs tightening as he feels Ao‘nung move into place alongside him. You’re stretching around them both like you were made for this, and then Ao’nung glances at the space between your legs where you’re all joined, and there isn't a slither of space.
"Fuuck, look at that", the forest boy pants, smiling almost proudly. He gives the first languid thrust that makes you mewl. "That feel good, hm? You like being stuffed full of us, don’t you sevin?"
A whiny "Y-Yes", comes as a response, followed by a string of incoherent pleas for them to finally move.
"You sound so pretty when you beg, paskalin", Ao’nung says, granting your wishes with slow thrusts, making you feel every inch of him as he slides himself into you. Better adjusted now, your body welcomes him with every snap of his hips. Neteyam sets up a quicker rhythm, pistoning in and out of your body roughly, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot at just the right angle.
You flex your inner walls, squeezing his cock, until you feel him throb inside you with the change, moaning, and his gaze entirely fixed on where you are joined.
"Eywa, that little pussy is gripping me so tight. No wonder you kept her all to yourself. I wouldn’t share her with anyone, not even if she begged me to."
Their eyes meet for a second and Ao’nung’s breath is hot on your neck as he whispers, "you’re mine, aren’t you? He’s just lucky I can’t deny you any of your filthy wishes." Reaching to cup one of your breasts in his hands, he tweaks a nipple and earns a dirty little moan in response, your soft, velvety-like walls pulsating around their cocks.
"Oh f-fuck, make her do that again!"
Ao’nung was rubbing your nipples more roughly now, and your voice goes hoarse when Neteyam simultaneously thumbs at your throbbing clit. "Yeah, good girl", he praises you, thrusting into you faster, "so good, sevin. Shit, you feel so fucking good around me."
You’re close, Ao’nung can tell by the way you’re writhing, by the way your breath hitches when the tip of Neteyams cock brushes against your cervix, by the way your face twists with ecstasy when he fucks you harder, deeper.
He removes his hand from your nipple and slips it between your bodies, fingertips fighting for their place to rub against that swollen bundle of nerves alongside Neteyams, until your whole body is arching and your jaw drops.
"Nung", you moan like a prayer, "you’re– so big. M‘so full, gonna come!" It’s like you’re trying to finish him just with your words, and fuck, you might manage it if you carry on. His head falls to your shoulder and he presses his lips against your skin, then up your neck until your mouths are crushed together, a desperate thrashing of tongues and lips.
Words were entirely washed out of your system, your mind completely overtaken by the fullness of two cock sliding in and in and then all the way out just to slip back in, harder, tight body gripping and squeezing them.
It was all heat and pleasure. All those sensations, thoughts and emotions. Everything so close, but you just couldn’t reach it. Not yet. You felt like a puppet on a string, waiting for any of them to pull the right thread and help you to your release.
You’re right on the edge, right there.
The moment he breaks the kiss, Neteyam catches your lips in another, his tongue swirling around yours and a bitter part of Ao’nung hopes you still taste like him. If that is the case, Neteyam doesn’t seem to mind. His hips continue to snap hard against yours as he exchanges moans and spit through the kiss. It’s a filthy rhythm the both of them had set, various body fluids smearing between three tangled bodies.
Every time one thrusts in they brush over your pleasure spot, leaving you sobbing and writhing on their cocks, clutching on their arms so hard it hurts, chanting their names in between moans, hardly able to catch your breath.
"Let go, c‘mon I know you need it so bad", Ao’nung groans lowly into your ear, thrusting in just as the other man pulls out, which leaves you in a constant state of fullness, never empty for even a second. "Be a good girl and come for us."
It's a buildup of tension that arches your back and curls your toes and just when you think you can't take it anymore, something snaps. Your entire body tightens as you cry out their names, nails sinking so deep he’d be surprised if they haven’t drawn blood.
"There it is, pretty girl. Great mother, look at you creaming around my cock, gonna make me cum too", Neteyam groans, throwing his head back in bliss. He was thrusting into you so hard now, it knocked the very air out of your lungs, leaving you gasping for breath.
The little breath left in you was then stolen by a deep kiss, Ao’nung sucking on your tongue as he continued to pound into you, unable to think of anything else besides the way your walls tighten around his throbbing cock.
"Gonna cum inside you", he groans into the kiss, "Can’t hold back, I just need to fill you up, gonna fuck my cum into you and— hngh– shit!" He plunges into you, one, two, three more times and then comes with a grunt of your name.
Your legs were already shaking with the aftershocks of your own orgasms, twitching from overstimulation while Neteyam gave one last thrust, hips pausing, and then you felt it flowing— hot shots of cum pumped into you, filling you up nice and warm as he lost himself inside you with a low moan.
Ao‘nung wasn’t entirely sure if you could even hear him at this point, but he still kept the reassurance up anyway as they both gently lowered you back into the hot spring.
"Can't say that was a bad time, fish lips," Neteyam grinned, glancing at your relaxed face resting against Ao’nungs shoulder. Your eyes had fluttered closed a few minutes ago, as the metkayina man was carefully cleaning the sweat and other body fluids from your skin, holding you tight against his chest.
"Don't get used to it." Ao’nung warns in a hushed whisper, "I doubt I'll share her again."
"Wouldn't expect it. Worried I'll steal her away?"
"No. But I keep close tabs on what's mine," he counters, blue eyes cold as he watches the other man rearrange his loincloth.
Neteyams grin widens at this, and he shoots him a playful wink, "We‘ll see about that", before he leaves off to the village.
— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —
Ao‘nungs hammock might as well be carved from stone.
He hadn’t been able to get much, if not any sleep at all these past couple of days. Shifting restlessly, he’s forcing his eyes to close once more every time they inevitably drift open, but it’s not working. So he’s staring at the ceiling of his marui, at the woven walls, and out into the dark blue sky. It only makes his frustration worse. Days have gone by and now half the night has already passed, by the time he finally comes to terms with the fact that jealousy truly is an ugly emotion. But it somehow always reveals the truth. And it’s not like he didn’t already know the truth before. No, he knew.
He could joke about it all he wanted, whenever Tsireya made her teasing little comments about it. Could laugh it off and roll his eyes at his younger sister, tell her she’s just imagining things and that this is all just a means to get another man jealous. He’s just being a good friend. He turned these comments into jokes, because he‘s afraid to take anything seriously. Because if he takes things seriously, they matter. But it does matter. It matters so much, that it hurts now. Truth is, Ao’nung held his love for you so horrible discreet, that it was as persistent and almost as silent as bleeding from an unstitched wound. And now he was bleeding out. Painful and slow and irreversible.
Sharing you was a bad idea. Probably the worst he’s ever had, there was no doubt in it.
Ao‘nung tosses and turns in his hammock, unable to rest for any moment longer as his thoughts dared to consume him whole. Willing his body to get up before the sun was even beginning to rise, he found solace in the rhythmic crashing of waves down at the beach.
Ao’nung wishes that he could just have some kind of treatment to fix this problem. If only the tsahìk could cut his chest open and take his heart out to make it stop. Maybe eywa would bless him with a new one, one that wasn’t stained and stabbed and torn apart. Maybe it would take away the sick, knife-twisting pain he felt in his chest whenever he did as much as look at you. But in its own way, it was a good kind of pain. Like a constant reminder of just how much he was in love with you. How good it felt to love you. It was good, except for how it made him feel sick whenever you laced your fingers up together and squeezed his hand as though Ao’nung was something precious, something to be loved, and once again he catches himself wishing that you might ever look at him in the ways that Ao’nung looks at you.
It pisses him off to be reminded that he's supposed to be good at keeping his head, at keeping his distance, at not letting his lies consume him, the way that they're doing now. The way that they've done since this whole thing started. That this is all just a game of play pretend and you’re not really his.
Besides everything else he's doing that's completely unhelpful to this dilemma, Ao’nung’s overlooking one crucial detail: how can he stop pretending, when this is probably the closest he'll ever get to actually being yours, to you being his? How can he stop pretending when he's already made you this stupid, shiny little bracelet, because it would scandalize Neteyam in the entire, to think that Ao’nung and you are so into each other that you’re trading what could be mistaken as a courting gifts. And because it's the closest thing that Ao’nung will ever get to actually giving you a courting gift. He just has to take what little gifts he can from the world, right? So he can’t end it. He can’t end this arrangement. Not yet.
"Become my mate."
A simple statement. A straightforward question with a straightforward answer. But he would never actually ask that, would never receive an answer to this that wouldn’t hurt him, so he might as well continue to live in this perfect world that he lets himself envision.
Ao’nung turns the bracelet in his hands, thumb swiping over the carefully polished pearls. One of them sort of looks like the color of your eyes, as much as a simple blue pearl can emulate the deep ocean blue of yours and the way they sparkle when you look at him. The whole thing doesn't really capture your essence, it just made him think about you, and that's why he picked it out. He would give it to you today, he thought. He knows you would wear it for him, and maybe the thought of you wearing this for him, wearing something that would always mark you as his would make it enough for a little while longer. Maybe one day he would get his ass up and just ask you, would ruin your friendship just for the teeny tiny chance of you not turning his offer down. Maybe you would be his, one day. Truly his.
It’s when the first rays of sun begin to shine over the ocean, that he’s greeted by the sight of his own, personal warm solace. Sometimes that shines brighter and warmer than the sun herself. His ears perk up at the sound of you calling his name, waving your arms at him and a smile tugs on his lips. Always up early, he thinks, rising to his feet.
"It worked!" You squeak happily, jumping into his arms and Ao’nung continues to smile at you, albeit a little confused. You break away from the hug first, jumping excitedly and pointing to a piece of jewelry dangling from your wrist. He stares at it blankly, each breath making his lungs feel like they were filled to the brim with shards of glass.
His palm closed tightly around the bracelet in his own hand, tight enough he could feel the little shells cutting into his palm.
He knew this would eventually happen.
He could feel it in the back of his mind, lingering like a muscle he's held tensed so long that he can no longer remember what it felt like to be otherwise.
What Ao’nung didn't expect was, that it would be this soon. He really thought he still had time. More time. More time with you, before he would loose you to another man. Time to change his fate, time to–
"It worked! Neteyam courted for me, look!"
Ao’nung felt something in him shatter, breaking to the point of no repair. Breaking so violently that he wondered if it was possible for no one to have heard it. He felt it burn his skin, his eyes, the inside of his chest. Felt it burn like the sun burns, like it would burn if he tried to touch it. Ao’nung felt himself melt away and burn, and that’s when he reminds himself of the reason for the nickname he had chosen for you.
Tsawke. Because you are his sun.
And nothing feels as good and hurts as much as loving the sun. Because as well as she can make you feel good, as fast she can burn you.
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2K notes · View notes
myosotisa · 3 months
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‖ tags: smut, monsterfucking, size kink, unprotected p in v or p in a (p in hole, if you will), praise kink, knotting, creampie, multiple orgasms, gender neutral reader referred to as 'baby' and 'honey', overstim if you squint
‖ word count: 880
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“Honey, I'm – fffuck, I'm gonna –”
You grip his biceps tighter, cross your ankles, dig your heels into his lower back to keep him as close as possible. Shaking like a leaf, panting like an animal from your 2nd orgasm on his thick cock, you don't hesitate to beg. “Please, I want it. Want your cum, w-want your knot, please!”
He moans; a two toned sound of his voice pitching up in pleasure and the rumble of the growl on his chest. You can tell the moment he gives in to the release by the way his head starts to nod in agreement and the grip of his fingers presses in.
“Gonna give you what you want, baby, always gonna give you what you want,” he murmurs, almost mindlessly as the snapping of his hips into yours stutters and loses form. A few more moans and whines fall from his throat as his eyes squeeze shut – his cock kicking up inside you once, twice, and then you feel it.
The moment his nails dig into your skin, he swaps from thrusting in and out of your wet heat to a dirty roll of his hips against yours. The heavy knot at the base of his cock prods and presses against your entrance, the angle of his hips shifting and searching to try and get it inside you as his long groan turns to a whine.
Sometimes he's not able to knot you successfully, your body just not made to take the intrusion – but you want it so, so bad. Want him to plug you up with his cock and cum more than anything.
Maybe it's your determination, or maybe it's dumb luck, but his knot notches at a point that seems to make his animal instincts hone in. He rolls his hips into yours at the same angle again and again and again before it smoothly slips inside you.
You let out a hiss of pleasured pain at the sudden stretch at the same time of his sigh of relief, his expression switching from focused to blissed out as the last spurts of his warm come stay successfully locked inside.
After a single moment to recover, he's lowering himself on his forearms, draping his body over yours. “Did so good for me, honey, so perfect.” He breathes out hot air across the sweat rapidly starting to cool on your skin, making goosebumps appear that he presses open mouth kisses to.
“Thank you,” you sigh, happily dazed and comforted with the feeling of his skin against yours while you wind your fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. He shudders when you scratch your nails against the sensitive skin there, a shaky sigh leaving his own throat as he tilts down to nudge his nose against your throat.
“Careful,” he says with a breathless laugh, “keep doing shit like that and the knot will never go down.”
And maybe you're still cockdrunk, still lost in your desire when you purposely do it again, timing his shudder with a clench of your inner muscles around him. He makes a sound between a gasp and a whine, instinctively rolling his hips and shifting the knot swollen inside you.
“H–honey…” He warns pitifully, shifting his head back up to look you in the eye. When he sees the glazed over, smirking expression on your face, you feel his cock kick up again in interest.
“Maybe I don't want it to go down,” your voice is pitched low as you roll your hips up into his again, making both of you gasp as his cock shifts slightly and hits a different spot. “Maybe I want you to fuck me on your knot until you come again, over and over–” Your own filthy imagination makes you clench around him again with a gasp, your nails digging in to the nape of his neck.
He leans back, dragging you with him as he tucks his hairy thighs under yours and sits back on his heels with you still locked tightly in his lap. His hips mindlessly roll, his eyes locked on where you're connected as he watches the knot keep him from leaving your warm, wet hole while he rocks into you over and over.
You whimper, hands gripping his forearms now as you watch him watching you, your mouth hung open to take in air. You're so, so full – like you can feel it in your lungs.
His glance moves up to your face, his cock throbbing once more at the pleasure and want he sees there. “You’re,” he pauses to let out a shaky laugh, in disbelief and adoration. “Baby, you're insatiable.”
“Mhmm,” you hum, triggering him to pull your hips back against his harder, both of you moaning around the small shifts of his knot inside you. “Wanna stay here forever…”
“Fffuck,” he stutters, head tipping back as his face contorts into something that looks like agony. “It's really– We’re really going to be stuck here if you keep talking like that.”
He still doesn't seem to grasp how serious you are, how much you crave him. You purposely tighten around him, a pretty moan tumbling out of his swollen, pink lips before his wide eyes snap to you.
“Good.”
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1K notes · View notes
wongyuuu · 2 months
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lens of ice | yjh | one
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pairing: jeonghan x f!reader genre: figure skater jeonghan, light angst, a little fluff, smut in the next part word count: 12k summary: jeonghan has only one chance left to make it to the olympics. as he embarks on this decisive journey, you, a documentarist, are set to follow him as he seeks the ultimate glory. warnings: jeonghan is kind of reckless with his body a/n: i've been writing this one for so long now and though it's not finished yet, i decided to post half of it, as a way to motivate myself to finish it. i really wanna thank @ressonancee first for giving me idea and second for helping me through all of this and putting up my crazy ass mind 💓
part one | part two (final)
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The light buzzing of the fluorescent lights made him uncomfortable, it was like a premonition of what was to come. Something bad, he was sure.
Jeonghan was many things in his life, stubborn perhaps being the most obvious one, but dumb wasn't one then. He knew that his ankle was fucked up, that he was probably the cause of it. Too many hours of training, never giving himself enough time to heal before he got the ice again. He didn't know exactly how bad it was, that was for the doctor in front of him to say, but Jeonghan knew that nothing good would come out of the man's mouth.
"It's worse than I thought," the man said with a sigh, taking off his glasses "It's not just your ankle anymore, it's also your knee. And, I could be wrong, but considering the way you're walking, I'd say that you're right ankle also started to bother you"
Jeonghan hung his head. He was an athlete and he knew that he was being reckless, beyond actually. He should have gone to his coach the second he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. But he just went home, took an ice bath, and kept the whole thing to himself. Even on the following days, when the pain didn't go away at all, he still chose to keep his mouth shut and go to practice every day. And his coach, unaware of his condition, kept pushing him during practice. 
Not that he needed anyone to be harsh on him, Jeonghan did all of that on his own. But having someone else do that for him as well brought out a different desire for perfection. One that came from a dark place to show someone else that he was good, to prove people wrong.
"Can I still compete?" was all he asked, it was the only thing that mattered to him "Can I make it to the Olympics? It's the last one for me, after this I retire"
The look on the doctor's face wasn't reassuring, Jeonghan knew that his next words wouldn't be the ones he wanted. He wasn't about to hear what he needed.
"If, and only if, you have surgery, take physical therapy seriously, and rest as we instruct you, there might be a possibility. Small, but it exists" 
"When can I have the surgery?"
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You stared at your computer screen, a hand on your forehead as you read the email your boss sent you. You sat at your desk, not really knowing what to do.
"Seungkwan!" you called without looking up "Did you get this email too?"
Just to make sure that you weren't crazy, you read it once again. The third time in less than five minutes. No matter how many times you read it, it didn't change.
"Yeah. I'm excited but scared…"
That was enough to get your attention.
"Why?" 
Closing your laptop, you stood up moving closer to Seungkwan. Unlike you, who read the email many times, Seungkwan had already started his research. Not that he really needed to, everyone at the office knew that he was a huge fan of figure skating. So of course he would know all about Yoon Jeonghan.
The nation's pride and joy in figure skating, at least in the make category.
"Why scared? I thought everyone loved him"
It was impossible to look away from the picture Seungkwan had open on his computer. Jeonghan's face really was something else, as if he had been carved in marble by some ancient Greek artist. From his dark hair covering his eyes, giving him almost a mysterious vibe, to the way his lips were slightly crooked into a smile. You had to give it to him, the man was absolutely stunning. No wonder he left a trail of fans everywhere he went.
"He isn't the biggest enthusiast when it comes to the press. He barely gives interviews so I guess doing a documentary about him won't be easy"
Seungkwan kept scrolling, reading the latest news on Jeonghan. But the truth was that there wasn't any. His social media was also rarely updated, the last post was from months before.
"Well, good luck to you"
"What do you mean? You're the one in charge"
You just shook your head. The problem was Jeonghan honestly, you barely knew anything about him, though Seungkwan's words didn't help the case. The thing was that you barely knew anything at all about sports, in general, much less about figure skating. Lack of knowledge was an easy fix. The real issue was the fact that a documentary on a sport was way too different from what you usually did.
"I'm not doing this one. I have other projects I want to work on. Plus, this is too sudden. They want us to start tomorrow, Seungkwan. Do you really think that it's possible to have anything done by tomorrow?" he shook his head and you nodded in agreement "Precisely, so I'm sure that if we talk with Jihoon…"
"Nothing will change" 
A curse left your lips at the sudden voice behind you. Turning around you faced the small man. Jihoon had his arms crossed over his chest and the look in his eyes that told you that no matter what he wouldn't let you off the hook. Still, you had to try.
"Jihoon, I'm not your sports person. And it's too soon. I don't anything about Jeonghan or figure skating"
Jihoon simply shook his head at you.
"They want a different approach than the average sports documentary, so I recommended you. I'm sending Seungkwan with you because I know this isn't your area of expertise, though I highly suggest you do some sort of research" he turned around to leave with a wave of his hand then turned around for a second, as if remembering something "Hansol will be your camera and sound guy. They asked for a small crew"
With a salute Jihoon left.
"Fuck"
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You couldn't take your eyes away from the crutches under Jeonghan's arms and the orthopedic boot around his left leg. There was not a single article that pointed to surgery. There were plenty about his constant injuries though. Seungkwan had the same look on his face, of pure shock. 
"Are you okay?" you asked once he made himself comfortable on the couch.
Jeonghan sat sideways on the couch, his leg propped up over cushions. The position looked weird but he didn't seem to mind.
"Ah, this" he pointed at his leg nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing "Yeah, it's okay. Had to get the surgery done in order to make it to the next Olympic"
Nodding, you looked around. His apartment wasn't as big as you had expected. In fact, the three of you stood closely together in the living room, a bit too small for all the gear Hansol said he needed.
"Put your things down, let's talk. I don't know how this is going to work"
Me neither, you wanted to say but kept your mouth shut. Thankfully, Seungkwan was there to help you.
"Before we start any real interview or conversation, I think we have to tell you that this was very last minute for us. We only heard about this documentary yesterday, in the middle of the afternoon" he used his kindest voice, his voice laced with concern and a hit of fear, maybe "yn is in charge, she's the documentarist, she'll be asking the questions and dictating the overall direction that we're going to take with the documentary. I'm Seungkwan and that's Hansol. This is the smallest crew he could assemble"
Seungkwan was giving too many explanations, you felt. But he also wasn't wrong. What he did was normal, he was just introducing the crew. Maybe you were a little irritated by the way you were tossed into this job, without someone giving you enough time to prepare. Sixteen hours were barely enough.
"I assume my… reputation has gotten to you," Jeonghan said, a small smile on his lips.
A reputation he had indeed. Jeonghan was known for not liking the press and journalists. He avoided them at all costs and once, on one occasion, was seen being rude. And honestly, you had to give him a pass for it. Pushing the camera away from his face, almost delicately, could barely be considered rude at such a moment. There were way too many cameras around, all of them on his face, trying to get some sort of pronouncement on why he had not made it to the podium. 
And that had been years before but people still remembered him by that one moment. But what exactly did they expect? He underperformed, came in fourth place, and injured himself in the process. Was anyone expecting a happy and bright Jeonghan? 
"You can be comfortable around me. A conversation like this is fine. I just don't like being swarmed" 
Though his words were inviting, his face told a whole different story. He clearly didn't want this documentary.
"All of our interactions will be recorded," you told him, not leaving room for arguments on his end "These first few minutes aren't, out of courtesy and so that we can set our goals. I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything, or something that you don't want to be filmed, either right now or before we turn the cameras on. Once we start, we won't stop"
Jeonghan adjusted his position on the couch, his eyes never leaving you. It was like he was measuring your every move. He didn't like your tone, and how aggressive you were towards him. 
"I know this was last minute and I apologize for that. This is going to be my last run and, as much as I hate to admit, I'm a bit sensitive to it.
With furrowed eyebrows, you nodded. Jeonghan knew that you didn't believe him or that you cared about his reasons. He knew that the sole reason you were there was because someone made you. 
"Will you need to film my family?" 
"Yes, usually film family members to get a complete idea of someone's life" 
Turning around you nodded at Hansol, telling him to start setting up. With a shake of his head, Seungkwan moved to help him.
"I don't want my family to know the extent of my injuries. So if you only want them for context, to know about me as a child, that's fine. But they can't know anything about this" Jeonghan pointed at his leg "I've been hiding this for a very long time and I'd like to keep it that way"
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You dropped your bag on the couch, eyes tired and mind filled with one too many thoughts. The day had been easier than you expected, far more so. 
Based on Seungkwan's words you had expected to fight with Jeonghan in a way. It was a documentary so you needed him to talk and talk he did. There was no question unanswered or dodged, all of his answers were precise and consistent. All of it had sounded fake like he had rehearsed them a million times.
Even if you thought that your question had been good, and had caught him off guard, Jeonghan seemed to be fully prepared for it. He didn't hesitate for a second. 
In the few hours you spent around him, you finally managed to understand the fascination most people had with him. He was handsome, yes, but that was just the very basic and surface level of him. Beyonce that he was also good with his words. It was hard to tell that he was lying because he talked with conviction. After just one interview you were sure that if one day Jeonghan decided to tell you that your mom wasn’t actually your mother, you’d somehow believe him.
And the man knew all of it. He was aware of his beauty and charm, of what it did to normal people, and he used it in his favor. Jeonghan knew that most people couldn’t resist a handsome talented man. And that was a part he was all too willing to fill.
“Yeah,” you answered your phone, not bothering to see who it was, certain that it was just Jihoon.
“How was it today?” he sounded just as tired as you felt and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was okay.
“Fine”
“Just fine?”
You turned on your back, facing the ceiling, or at least whatever you could see with the lights turned off - not a whole lot, to be honest.
“He lied through his teeth today. There was no manager, and no coach around, though I do remember him saying someone would come. The person never showed up” you sighed “Seungkwan hates and Vernon probably thinks I’m a crazy bitch. So yeah, just fine”
Jihoon laughed on the other side of the line and you felt the little butterflies in your stomach come to life. You rolled your eyes at yourself. How pathetic it was of you, to have a crush on your boss. How very much bland of you.
Growing up, like a lot of girls that were influenced by way too much TV, you had wanted the be the odd one out. The I’m one of the guys kind of girl, or the one who refused to wear any kind of makeup or even come close to the pink because that was just girly for you. And now there you were, in love with the color pink, finding excuses to wear pretty dresses, and having a crush on your boss.
Teenage you would throw eggs at your head if she had the chance.
“Okay, but how was Jeonghan?” Jihoon pressed even further.
You sighed and closed your eyes, covering over face with your hand.
“He was polite, answered all of my questions, had a pleasant smile the entire time, and only asked for a bathroom break while we were there. Offered us food and drinks. He was fine” you said again, emphasizing the fine.
You could picture Jihoon, nodding his head and looking at the floor, probably thinking of what to ask next.
“Why would Seungkwan hate you? And why would Vernon think you’re a bitch?”
“Seungkwan thinks I went too hard on Jeonghan and Vernon just trusts Seungkwan’s judgment and goes with it”
Jihoon laughed again and you heard him moving around.
“Classic yn, going at someone while she’s angry. At least your anger was sort of directed to the right person”
“What is that supposed to mean?” you sat up.
You liked to think that you didn’t act that way all the time. In your mind, most of the time, you were able to hide your anger and just play nice like your mother had taught you to be. Jihoon’s words told a completely different story.
“Have some rest, there’s still a lot of work to do. Tomorrow you’re going with him to rehab, right?” Jihoon paused for a second and you heard a female voice in the back, you couldn’t make out what she said but you were sure of who it belonged to “I have to go. We’ll talk next week”
The line was disconnected and leaned back on the couch again. The problem of having a crush on your boss was also the fact that he had a long-time girlfriend and soon he was supposed to be marrying her.
You groaned, wondering if you had gone far enough that there was no going back from this crush.
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You sat across from Jeonghan once again, the position exactly the same as the first day. But this time you chose to be less irritable.
The other day you were frustrated because you had to give up other projects to be able to accompany Jeonghan and that, thinking rationally, had nothing to do with him. He asked for a specific documentary filmmaker profile and you were chosen by the studio. Maybe it was more your fault than his. But it was also a no-return kind of situation. The job was assigned to you and there was nothing you could do to change it. So the least you could do was do your best and pray that it didn’t take a turn for the worse.
And, if anything, the conversation with Jihoon helped you focus on work. It wouldn't be the first time you were doing something you didn't want to do and it certainly wouldn't be the last. So you decided that the best thing to do was just work, showing your professional side that had been left aside before.
Jeonghan looked at you the same way, eyes serious as if he was ready for a new attack.
"Thank you," he said to Vernon, who had just placed the microphone inside his jacket, so that he could pick up the sound well, but it was not visible to the camera.
You turned to Seungkwan and Vernon, waiting for confirmation from the two that you could begin. You received a wave from each of them after they checked that the cameras were on and recording.
You took a deep breath and turned to Jeonghan.
"I wanted to apologize for yesterday," you said "I wasn't fair to you. I was irritated by things that had nothing to do with you, but I somehow decided that they did"
Everyone in Jeonghan's living room seemed to hold their breath, you included. You didn't know what to expect from Jeonghan, not really. You had been anything but ungracious with him, in a way that to most people meant that any door between you two had closed.
Jeonghan decided, at that moment, that he had two options: a) he could let the previous day dictate how all interactions between the two of you from then on would be, and it would be many months of a bad relationship that would bring no benefit to anyone involved in it; or b) he could accept your apology, which seemed sincere enough, and let go of the discomfort he felt.
Option b was actually the only possible choice.
“Okay” he finally smiled “my reputation isn’t the best, either way”
Seungkwan and Vernon breathed a sigh of relief. It was as if a huge gray cloud had moved away and the weather was beginning to clear.
“No, your reputation had no influence. I was the one who lost my hand because of my problems and for that, I apologize” you said and you were sincere in your words “But Jeonghan, I need you to stop seeing me as your enemy. I need you to be honest with me.”
You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.
“You think I wasn’t honest?” he tilted his head as if analyzing you.
“In the same way that you don't want your reputation to affect the way I see you, I need you to not let the way you see other journalists affect the way you see me. I want to tell your story, however you want it told, but I need you to be honest with me.”
You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.
He was silent for a minute, his eyes fixed on his hands. His hair covered his face, so it was hard to get an idea of what was going through his head.
You looked at Seungkwan, seeking confirmation that you hadn’t been rude. He seemed to be as lost as you were, but the small smile he gave you was enough to make your restless heart rest for a second.
“What if I say something and regret it later?”
It was the first time Jeonghan looked insecure and it was a strange sight, but much more realistic than the other version of him.
“We can edit it, it’s not a problem. I said that because I was angry” you said apologetically once again.
“Can we throw it all away and start again?”
Jeonghan smiled and you had no choice but to smile along with him.
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“Let’s start with what’s happening now,” you said, folding your legs under your body, notebook open to a blank page and a pen ready to take notes “You underwent surgery not long ago, right? Why?"
Jeonghan took a deep breath, eyes closed for a second before placing all his attention on you. His gaze was almost too intense. You had to force yourself not to look anywhere but at him.
“A few years ago I fell during training and twisted my ankle. At the time, it wasn't a big deal and if I had stayed quiet for a few weeks, and did everything right, I wouldn't have had any problems. But I couldn't do it, I was preparing for a competition. I didn't tell anyone about the problem and just endured the pain. When I participated in the competition I fell again and that only made the situation worse. Today I have a problem with my ligament and tendon.”
With every word that left his mouth, you felt like a lump was forming in your throat, and with every second it was getting bigger.
Unlike the day before, it didn't seem like Jeonghan was lying, but you didn't know if you wanted the truth he was sharing. Even if it was a lie, a character he had created, the version of Jeonghan from before was a little brighter, a little more present in the moment. The version of him that was in front of you, that you imagined to be the closest to reality, was almost sad, detached from everything.
“Because I forced my right knee a lot, trying to compensate for the lack of my left one, I developed a problem with that one too”
“You’ve never talked about your injuries before, right?” he nodded “Why talk now?”
He was silent again, his lower lip caught between his teeth. That was a great question, one that not even Jeonghan himself knew exactly how to answer.
“I'm not sure, to be honest” he laughed a little. Instead of looking directly at the camera, his eyes were focused on you “Someone came up with the idea at some point and it didn't seem like a bad one, but I think it will only work if I make it to the Olympics.”
“Is that the ultimate goal then, to get to the Olympics?”
He shook his head, that fearless, confident look you had only seen in photos finally making itself known.
“No, the ultimate goal is to win”
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As promised, Jeonghan waited for you, Seungkwan, and Vernon outside the clinic. He was nowhere to be seen, really, but the car his assistant informed you of was parked right in front of the door.
You were the first one to exit your own car, while Seungkwan and Vernon prepared the camera to follow along. You could only assume he was the manager. Terribly young for a manager, sure, but a manager nonetheless.
“I assume you’re in” he extended a hand to you “I’m Joshua”
“Hi”
The exchange of words with Joshua was quick, no more than half a dozen. You didn't have much to talk about with him and he wasn't your priority, at least not at the moment. Later, at some other time, talking to him would be great. He had introduced himself as a friend/manager of Jeonghan. Having his point of view would be great and could contribute a lot, but your eyes couldn't leave Jeonghan.
His hair was tied back, but a cap covered much of his face. He had barely said hi to you or the other two. It wasn't a big surprise. While it was true that made up to a certain extent, you didn't expect him to simply welcome you with open arms, but his reaction was strange - or as strange as the reaction of a person you knew little, or nothing, could be.
“Can we film it?” You asked.
Jeonghan stopped and turned towards you. He had forgotten that you and your team would attend his first physical therapy session, but it seemed like the right thing to do.
Since the last time you saw each other, Jeonghan spent hours on end watching documentaries made by you and they all had one thing in common: they were almost like video logs. You followed everyone around documenting every tiny aspect of their lives. All those people told their stories and didn't seem afraid of having their lives exposed. And perhaps for people who didn't lead lives where they had been exposed too much, sincerity came easily.
For Jeonghan, that was never the case.
Being treated as the future, a promise of the sport, had brought a lot of harm and situations that neither he, nor anyone else, had the option to deal with or even, perhaps, ignore.
Cameras were pointed at him, rumors spread and suddenly he wasn't just Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who started skating because it would annoy his little sister. He became someone from whom people expected something.
As much as he could, Jeonghan tried to live up to all of those expectations, realistic or not. He tried to be as perfect as possible, on the ice and off of it. And it only took one day of silence, a few rude unanswered questions, and one bad performance — which had no real effect — for everything to collapse.
“You said you would film anything and everything.”
You grimaced, clearly regretful and maybe even a little embarrassed. It wasn't his intention, but he found your reaction funny anyway.
In your place, Jeonghan would have done much worse.
“Do you think it’s important?”
You nodded, perhaps more forcefully than necessary. Jeonghan laughed, he wanted to hold your head to make sure it was still in the right place.
“The documentary is about your return, so filming you here is important. I asked because it's your first session. I heard it can be painful.”
“It will probably be uncomfortable” he couldn’t deny that “Let’s do it like this, you can record it, if in the end you think it’s bad or that it doesn’t fit, we won’t use it
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You quietly followed Jeonghan and Joshua out of the clinic, Seungkwan and Vernon trailing behind you talking in hushed tones. It was no surprise that they were talking. Truth was rehab had been brutal. You knew that it could get hard for Jeonghan, that it could be painful but nothing really prepared you for what you saw. And if it was hard for you to watch him go through that, it was unimaginable to understand how it was for him.
Throughout the entire session, Jeonghan looked in pain, his grunts and the scowl on his face growing with each passing second and new movement. Midway through you told Seungkwan and Vernon to stop filming. You had seen enough and you had more than what you needed for the documentary. 
You would only film his rehab again when he was no longer in such pain, you decided. Out of the many things you learned about Jeonghan was that showing his weaknesses wasn’t something he was too fond of or even comfortable with the idea of it. So there was no real reason to keep recording and you couldn’t stand it either. 
While you watched his face contort in pain, you felt something inside your chest tighten. 
It had never been a real issue before with you. You had always managed to separate your personal emotions from the things you felt while working. More often than not you told stories that were hard to listen to, took someone’s suffering, and put it on the TV for the entire world to see in hopes that maybe a part of their lives would be changed. You had always been able to detach yourself from that. 
However while inside with Jeonghan, such a thing was not possible. You felt your throat constrict and your eyes grow wet and for a short while, you couldn’t breathe either. It made no sense really. Why did it hurt to see this man, you knew nothing about, in pain to the point you wanted to cry? Why did it sadden you so much that he was limping harder than before?
You wanted to approach him, ask if he was okay, if it had been too much. But it was out of line, it was one that you knew you shouldn’t cross. There was this itch though, in the back of your mind, begging you to just ask, to just take a step closer to him. 
It happened so suddenly that you didn’t even see it happening. One second it was just the five of you in the parking lot, in the next there were reporters with mics and cameras pointed at Jeonghan. You noticed how Jeonghan raised his shoulders at the same time he lowered his head. He couldn’t see in front of himself, you were certain. 
Joshua put an arm around Jeonghan’s shoulder while he used the other one to keep them away from him. Not that it was of any use. One of the cameras was directly under his face as if trying to get an expression, anything at all, that could show his discomfort with the situation. From somewhere behind you there were flashes. 
"Do you believe your injury was a result of your own carelessness?"  someone asked. 
You felt your blood run cold for a second and you froze in place, Seungkwan and Vernon behind you. 
"Do you think your skating career is over after such devastating injuries?" someone followed. 
"Did you regret pushing yourself so hard during training, knowing it led to your injury?" 
"How did it feel to watch other skaters progress while you were stuck in rehab?" 
"Are you worried that your injury will define your career more than your achievements on the ice?" 
The questions got progressively worse and you wanted to scream at them to just shut up, and stop. How could they just ambush someone like that with those questions? It made no sense at all. And though you knew that it would cause more harm than good you wished Jeonghan would tell them all to fuck off.
Instead, he kept his head low and just slowly walked to his car while ignoring everyone around him, all the careless words being thrown at him. 
You tried to take a step forward but were held back by Seungkwan, who gripped the strap of your purse. He didn’t say a word, just shook his head. 
“They can’t just do that to him” you almost cried
“If you say anything, it might only make matters worse,” Hansol said, his voice sad. 
That sudden need to protect Jeonghan felt weird but oddly natural as well. Weird because you knew that you shouldn’t, because you hardly knew the guy. Natural because it felt as if you had always done that like it was just second nature to you. 
“He is used to this,” Seungkwan said, still not letting go of your purse. 
“He shouldn’t be! They are barely treating him like a human!”
By the time you turned around, Jeonghan was already inside the car leaving the parking lot. 
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The clock on the top of your phone screen told you that it was 4:37 am. You hadn't even realized that you had spent so many hours still awake. 
As soon as you got home from the rehab with Jeonghan, you took a quick shower, ate the leftovers from the night before, and started to look up Jeonghan’s performances.
The man was a celebrity amongst athletes since he was a child. He was always seen as a promise of the sport. He was good from the start. Performing moves that he was still too young to do, entering competitions boys his age never really competed in and somehow managing to either come up to the podium or even winning some of them.
Everything was displayed online. Yearly competitions, practices, and small moments of his life.
Jeonghan's entire life, at least the sports part, was exposed on the internet for anyone, from anywhere in the world, to see. And it wasn't just the competitions, having videos of that part seemed completely normal and expected.
What was scary was all the other content. Some photos of him in school uniform, not one where he was actually looking at the camera, but ones that were clearly taken in secret. Another one from when he seemed to have simply gone out for coffee with Joshua.
You knew he had fans, that he was liked wherever he went, and that he was always followed, but that seemed a bit much.
In reality, watching videos of the competitions was like a gateway to everything that came after.
You knew very little about Jeonghan, only what you had read about in all the articles that you found and all of them had one thing in common: Jeonghan was a huge diva, who thought he was superior to everyone. But after seeing how he had been treated that day, as soon as he got out of rehab, you knew it wasn't like that. It was as if they had appeared out of nowhere, one second the parking lot was empty and the next it was full of journalists, shouting things and asking questions that to many would seem harmless, but were clearly intended to hurt.
Instead of watching more competition videos, not that there were many you hadn't watched yet, you decided to look for the famous video of him treating journalists badly.
You had never found one so easily on the internet. You just typed "Jeonghan and journalists" into the search bar and it was the first video to appear.
It was a scene very similar to the previous day. Jeonghan was in the parking lot, walking towards the guy when he was surrounded by several journalists.
"You didn't get the podium today, are you disappointed?" one of them asked and that was the most harmless question he got. “Did you really try hard or did you think you would get a high score because you were the favorite?” “Why did you fall in such a simple jump?” “Don't you think it was an amateur's performance?”
You didn't want to keep listening to all those meaningless questions, but you couldn't take your eyes off Jeonghan. He still had short hair at the time, even covering his eyebrows. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were hard, and his gaze was focused straight ahead, as he walked slowly to his car. Joshua tried as best he could to control the journalists with their microphones and cameras, but he was just one man against many. Finally, after what felt like ages, two security guards appeared, pushing the journalists away as they began shouting profanities in Jeonghan's direction.
Could those people even consider themselves journalists? Real journalists, who took their work seriously?
There is a very fine line between being a journalist who asks incisive questions and one who is completely disrespectful to the athlete. And those people were anything but professional.
It was no surprise that after that Jeonghan refused to give interviews.
That whole situation happened years before, at the beginning of the previous Olympic cycle, but even so, it was still a moment that haunted him. People remembered him as just that guy, someone who refused to answer simple questions. But what exactly did these people expect? That he was all smiles when he failed to reach the podium, even though he was the favorite in the competition? That he smiles when he hurts?
Finally, you managed to understand why he acted that way, and why his answers were so polite and direct. Jeonghan didn't want to leave room for interpretation. Not that he had much of a choice. People only see what they want to see, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.
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Jeonghan couldn’t take his eyes away from your back, he followed your every move. You stood next to Joshua, talking to him quietly, his friend showing you something on his phone. He felt something scratch at his neck. This new and unknown feeling. 
It was unusual for Jeonghan, to want to have someone’s undivided attention. It was usually the other way around and he was never willing to do it, with anyone. And then there you were and suddenly he didn’t like that you were talking with Joshua. 
It wasn’t like you seemed to be having fun either. You moved around with intention, your eyes always focused, your words and questions firm and straight to the point. Jeonghan couldn’t help but wonder if it was always like that with you. If your professional persona always took over who you were in other moments. 
His curiosity was huge but his courage to ask was very little. 
“She may seem like it, but she won’t bite your head off if you talk with her,” someone said on his left.
Seungkwan stood at his side, his hands clasped in front of him while he rocked on his heels. 
“I think she will,” Jeonghan said. 
Seungkwan took his reply as an invitation to sit. 
“You know, in the office, people call her the ice queen” he too looked in your direction, at your serious expression "She’s like that most of the time”
Jeonghan looked at Seungkwan expectantly, he knew there was a but coming soon. All he needed to do was wait long enough. 
“She didn’t want to take this job, our boss forced her to. She’s more into storytelling, real people, with real issues”
“Am I not a real person?”
The offense in Jeonghan’s voice made Seungkwan almost fall off his chair. He didn’t intend for his words to sound like that.
“Of course you are” he laughed nervously while trying to explain it as best as he could “If it were up to her, she would focus this documentary on you, on how you started skating, why, what attracted you to it, how it affected the rest of your life. But your team doesn’t want that, I think. We were told that you already gave many interviews on the matter so there’s no point in talking about it again. They want us to focus on your recovery and then you make it to the Olympics. She’s trying to figure out how to do that in a way that makes someone watch it”
Jeonghan nodded, feeling guilty. It had been his request to not the documentary so focused on the past and more on what was happening in the moment
“She also doesn’t like sports and hated the idea of the job, but that's beside the point”
Both of them laughed, eyes still on your back now that you talked with Vernon, giving him new instructions.
“I’ll make sure that she gets to do the kind of documentary she thinks is best”
Seungkwan stood up, a big smile on his lips.
“Who could have known that the ice queen and the ice prince aren’t actually that cold”
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After months of just rehab, it’s finally time for Jeonghan to get back on the ice and it pained you a little to admit that you were looking forward to it. The videos you watched could only take you so far, you wanted to actually see the real thing. Him, in action.
Of course, you know that he wasn’t going to be able to do a third of the things he did on those videos. But you wanted to see him in his element, how he would behave when he was finally around the thing he loved the most in the world — his words, not yours. 
The one thing you were able to learn from Jeonghan was the fact that he indeed loved what he did. Like most people, sometimes he hated it. It was the thing he was most passionate about, yes, but it was also his job, so there were days when he just hated and the mere idea of leaving the house was too much. 
It was too hard to be a professional athlete, it demanded way too much of him. Of anyone, really. Sometimes he wanted to be like everyone else and just not put everything he was into it. But if he did that, he lost one single day, he was scared that he could lose an entire year and maybe that year turned into two and then he could lose his chance to go to the Olympics. 
And he only had one change left. 
So, instead of focusing on much he didn’t want to do, Jeonghan decided to focus on the fact that there was only a year ahead of him and he would be able to do whatever he wanted and have as many down days as he wanted. 
He didn’t know what he wanted to do and what would be the after for him but it gave him something to look forward to. 
“Are you nervous?” you asked him.
Jeonghan was someone who was mostly quiet. You noticed that once he started to feel more comfortable he was one to start the conversation and even crack a few jokes here and there. Seungkwan had been the first person he kind of opened up to, which had left you a hint of jealousy. You wanted to be one he talked with mostly because it was your job but also just because. 
However, he had been especially quiet that day. The three of you went to meet him at his apartment. The idea was that you’d follow him the entire day, from the moment he woke up, to when he went to the doctor to get the final clear and then finally to the ring. 
He had talked very little, his eyes always focused somewhere else. It was clear that his mind was traveling somewhere far, far away. So you left him be, quietly watching him just move around. A silent shooting day, you told yourself  In the end, however, you had a job and he needed to do the talking.
“It’s been too long,” he said, his eyes never really leaving the ice “I don’t know if I can still do it”
You laughed, causing him to finally look at you, eyes wide on his face. He tried to look serious but the corners of his lips were turned slightly up.
“You just don’t feel confident, but you didn’t forget it” you looked at his ankle, it was still weird to see him without any sort of protection around it “How’s your ankle?”
He just shook his head and in that moment you chose to believe that he was said It doesn’t bother me anymore. 
Through the interviews, you found out that Jeonghan is the kind of person to suffer in silence. It was clear from all of his previous injuries, how he competed while in pain and only ever said anything when it was almost too late.
“Do you think I can still do it?”
There was something in his voice like he was almost on the verge of breaking. He sounded vulnerable in a way that was entirely too new, in a way you wanted to push Vernon and his camera away because that was a part of him you knew he didn’t want the world to see. 
Instead, you reached for his arm, patting it a couple of times, hoping that your touch, as ungraceful and awkward as it was, was able to soothe him, even if it was just for a moment. 
“I was watching some of your competitions last night, again, you know? And that guy? He’s still in there, I’m sure of it, I’ve seen him”
You weren’t just saying that to cheer him up, your words were true. You had seen that version of him, little glimpses here and there. He was in the way his eyes suddenly changed and it was like he owned the entire room, in the way he suddenly turned confident, in the way he was charming in a way that was almost sickening but all too enchanting either way. 
Whether or not he believed it himself, Yoon Jeonghan was a force to be reckoned with.
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"What kind of kid were you?" you asked, looking up at Jeonghan. 
He sat opposite to you, bent down to tie the laces on his skates. His hair covered his face, you were sure that he couldn't see much, but he didn't seem bothered by it in the least. Maybe he had just gotten used to it. 
Four months had gone by since you started to follow Jeonghan and even before that, he had kept his hair long. And you hated to admit that he looked good, too good even.
"What kind do you think I was?" He smirked at you for a second before going back to his skates.
Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile. 
"This is not how it works. I ask the questions here"
Jeonghan leaned back on his seat, giving you his full attention. His smirk did something to your insides. It felt tight and loose at the same time, like wild butterflies running around on your skin. 
"Come on, humor me"
You pretended to be in deep thought, Jeonghan as a child had been something you thought about for a long time now. Even though he was very serious most of the time there were these small moments where he looked like a kid ready to do something he wasn't supposed to.
"I can only think of you as a troublemaker” you smiled, closing your notes knowing well that you’d make no progress at all with the filming “I’ve seen pictures of you and a child and although you looked very cute, I’m sure you were a handful to your mother”
Jeonghan laughed, throwing his head back and in that moment he looked so carefree.
Even since the start of the documentary Jeonghan had used his most serious expressions, a frown always taking over his beautiful features. But he had been back on the ice for a few days already and in those days he had looked the happiest you had seen him yet.
Of course, he still hasn’t practiced the way he wanted or the way he used to. He still needed to take things slowly: fewer hours, less power in the movements. But it was undeniable that he was a completely different person.
It wasn’t that he had been in a bad mood every single day but there was just something about him in his element, of him doing something he was obviously passionate about, that was so enchanting that it became impossible to look away from him.
“Where did you see those pictures?”
“You do know that I had to google you because I had no idea who you were, right?”
One thing you managed to learn about Jeonghan is the fact that, if in the right mood, he is a trickster and most of all, a flit. You weren’t even sure that he was aware of what he was doing, it seemed like second nature to him.
He put a hand over his chest, faking being in pain. His face contorted and a pout on his lips.
“I thought we were getting to know each other”.
Seungkwan coughed by your side, finally making you remember that there were people around you and that the entire interaction between you and Jeonghan was being recorded.
There was something about Jeonghan that always seemed to make you forget where you were, that maybe there were people around you. You could only suppose that it was the charm of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, who knew how to sweet talk someone.
And Jeonghan knew what he was doing, what kind of words or looks could get a reaction from a woman.
Most of the time while around Jeonghan you had to remind your heart to be calm and quiet. Being around him was a temporary arrangement, as soon as the Olympics started said arrangement would be done and you’d have to go back to your normal life. One that didn’t include Yoon Jeonghan. And you also knew that there wasn’t space for you in his life.
“We’re going to set up the cameras around the ice,” Seungkwan said awkwardly while dragging Verno by the hand.
You watched as the two walked away from you, whispering in secrecy. You could only imagine the kind of things that they were saying. If you knew Seungkwan at all, you were certain that it couldn’t be any good.
“Jeonghan, I ask questions and you answer them. And while one could say that I’m getting to know you, I don’t think it would be possible to say the same thing about me”
Jeongahn's smile was defiant when he crossed his arms over his chest.
“You have a no-bullshit policy, which I should have known, from the start, but I wasn’t expecting someone like you. Although you try really hard to pretend that you’re not, your eyes are kind and you quietly take care of those around you, me included sometimes. You got worried when I was in pain in rehab and when Vernon got hurt it seemed as if you were angry, but you were concerned about him and after that, you asked to have another staff with you so that he wouldn’t need to carry so many things on his own. You and Seungkwan bicker a lot but when he isn’t around for a day you are quieter and your questions have been more direct. That doesn’t make you a lousy documentarist, please don’t think that I’m saying that, you take your job very seriously. I’m saying that you put people above your job. I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to become a documentarist, to begin with, to tell stories”
You stared at him, mouth open wondering just how he had come up with all of that and why he had managed to hit everything right on the stop. Especially the reason why you became a documentarist. It seemed very obvious, yes, but it wasn’t something that you had said.
In fact, your personal life was something that very few people knew. You weren’t one to share your thoughts and what was on your mind with people. Seungkwan was a good friend, but he was a work friend so your personal life was just that, personal. Not that you had someone to share it with, either way.
The apartment was empty when you left and it was in the exact same way and you got back. You were on your own, with no parents, no siblings and most of your friends had given up on you somewhere along the way.
For the longest time, you put your job first. It came before anything and anyone. You were building your career and name at the time so it was hard not to put it first. It was your dream, one that your friends supported at first but were displeased when you decided to put it first.
You had thought that if you made it big on your job if you got hired by a big production company, you’d be able to find the happiness that you had searched for a long time. And while some of it was true, your career was on the right path and you did something you loved, you didn’t have a lot more beyond that going one.
It was become just you and your job.
Was it sad? Yes, but it was also the life you chose.
“Just because I don’t know details of your life, doesn’t mean that I don’t watch you, yn”
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You watched as Jeonghan fell for what felt like the hundredth time that day. It didn't make sense, not really. At least not for you. And from the looks of it, for him too.
He was frustrated and completely angry. All those people looking at him, expectations high, waiting for something. He wasn't sure what. For him to fail? To see if he still could do it?
Everything was possible and impossible at the same time.
He couldn't stop his eyes from going after you every time you fell. Somehow, your reaction was the only one that mattered to him. The first few times your face was completely emotionless, as if you were staring at a blank wall. Then Jeonghan fell once again, and again, and again. He stopped counting at 10, but he knew it was much more than that actually. But your gaze, which was fixed on him, became more worried as the minutes passed and he hated being the cause of it.
Somehow, since he met you, only two things were on Jeonghan's mind: skating and you.
He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but you had taken over his every thought. It was as if you had walked through an imaginary door and entered his mind and decided that it was a great place to be.
Even on days when you didn't see each other because there was no recording, he was tempted to talk to you. And on one of those days, he just succumbed to the temptation of picking up the phone and calling you.
“Jeonghan, is everything okay?” was the first thing you said.
He hated that worry was the first emotion he awakened in you. He hated that the first thing you said wasn't "hello" like a normal person. But at the same time, the concern made him feel somehow welcomed. It could, of course, be all in his head, and what he saw as concern for himself was actually concern for the documentary.
"I just wanted to talk," he admitted.
Maybe it was because he had gotten used to talking to you, maybe it was because you offered zero judgment for the way he thought or reacted. Or maybe it was because it was you. Whatever it was, Jeonghan felt comfortable talking to you.
Telling the truth, about everything, was not difficult, in fact, it became something very easy. It was because of you, he knew.
"I realized I don't know anything about you"
You laughed and he listened as you moved through what he imagined to be his apartment.
"That's because I interview you and not the other way around"
He sat on the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him as he supported the rest of his weight on his arms stretched behind him.
"Do you think it's so bad that I know anything about you?"
You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to think about the idea. It wasn't bad, not at all.
At several moments you found yourself with your cell phone in your hand, ready to send a message or call him. You weren’t sure what, but there was something about Jeonghan that just made you want to tell him everything.
"What do you want to know?" you said with a sigh.
"Whatever you want to share"
The great truth is that very little happened in your life. You lived alone, worked every day, and came home alone. Your last boyfriend, or even a fling, was over a year before. Your friends, if you could call them that, were all from work. Your life was quite still and dull. Even if you wanted to talk about work. Jeonghan was your job. There wasn't much to talk about.
"I don't think I have much to tell" you knew that what you were about to say wasn't the happiest topic in the world, but it was what you had to offer "My mother passed away when I was nineteen, since then I've been alone"
You could still clearly remember the day your father left. There wasn't a fight. He never packed his bag and left. One day he was there when you woke up, he gave you breakfast and took you to school, like he did on most days. But it was his job to pick you up and he never showed up. Your mother showed up instead, her eyes swollen as she did her smile to smile at you and explain to the teacher why she was so late. When you finally got home she said "Now it's just you and me. Daddy had to leave"
For months, years even, you waited for him to come back. You thought one day he would just appear in front of you. You were disappointed when it was your mother who showed up to pick you up when he didn't come to his birthdays when you called the number he had left with his mother and he never answered.
You waited until you turned 18 to go after him. You only had a name, but with that alone, a person can find everything on the internet. You found him in another state, working at a real estate agency. You sat down in front of him and talked for about half an hour. You made up a story about going to college and needing a place to live. You said your name and your mother's name several times, surname and everything, and at no point did he seem to connect one thing to the other. Until the last second, when you said you would think about renting the studio he had suggested, and he walked you to the door. He said, "I left for a reason, don't come back here."
You couldn't believe what you had heard. You couldn't understand why he left and why he never came back. But at that moment you decided that if he didn't want you, you didn't need him. Your mother had worked so hard to make sure you had everything you needed.
Exactly one year later, your mother died in a bizarre car accident. It was like being 7 years old again and losing another person, only in a much more painful way.
"You don’t have any siblings?" Jeonghan's voice on the other end brought you back "Relatives?"
You shook her head, even though you knew he couldn't see you.
"I was an only child, so no siblings. My mom was an orphan so relatives either. My father left when I was a child"
You and Jeonghan spent the whole night on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. From trivial things to more personal matters. His delight upon learning that you didn’t have a boyfriend didn’t go unnoticed. 
Calls and messages became commonplace between the two of you. Your heart raced every time a new message arrived and it was hard to hide your disappointment when you realized it wasn't from him. On days when you didn't see each other, you would stare at your phone, waiting for it to ring, waiting for him to call.
So you hoped he understood when you shook your head in his direction, a request written on your face. That's enough for today, you can try more tomorrow, you hoped he would understand.
Instead of trying one more time after he fell once again, he skated to the edge of the ice. His face was red from the effort, and his chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm trying to force air back into his lungs.
"I want everyone out," he said, his voice broken.
Seungkwan and Vernon didn't even question it, they simply started putting away the equipment. Jihoon, who had shown up unexpectedly to "supervise" didn't seem to understand what was going on, but turned to help Vernon.
Jeonghan's coach was the only one who approached him, his hand on the athlete's shoulder.
"Go home, rest. Tomorrow we try again"
Jeonghan shook his head. He would only get out of there after managing to make the damn jump, even if he had to stay the whole night.
"Just half an hour more, but I want to be alone"
The coach clearly didn't like the idea, but he knew it was stupid to try and make Jeonghan change his mind.
You turned to him, looking at his face, trying to figure out if he was in pain or if he was just being a big blockhead. Without giving yourself the luxury of thinking about what you were doing, you placed your hand over Jeonghan's and squeezed for a second. You hoped he understood what you meant.
"You have to rest"
You knew everyone was watching, that despite saying they were leaving they weren't actually moving. Jeonghan didn't seem to care and for a moment you decided not to care either.
“Stay,” he said softly, so only you could hear him “please.”
Some strands of hair were stuck to Jeonghan's face, you wanted to get them out of his face, but caution spoke louder. You looked over your shoulder and everyone was still looking at the two of you, but as soon as they noticed your gaze they started moving again. Seungkwan shouted “We’re leaving” and seconds later the door slammed.
Finally, you were alone.
“You have to rest,” you said again.
You took advantage of the fact that no one else was there and removed the strands of hair stuck to his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Jeonghan sighed, his eyes closing as he leaned towards you. Just that little touch wasn't enough.
“I need to get it right”
"If you stop now and rest you will know what you are doing wrong"
A half smile shined on Jeonghan's face as he leaned further into the barrier, his face just inches away from his.
"My ego loves it when you say I'm doing something wrong”
You pushed him back, needing a little bit more space to yourself. He was too close, you could feel his breath on your nose and cheeks. It was suddenly as if the world was made of Yoon Jeonghan, it was just him and no one else. 
“I’m sure your ego will be just fine”
Instead of pulling your hand back, you allowed it to stay in his chest. Jeonghan smiled for a second before pressing his hand over yours. 
“Just another 30 minutes” he repeated what he said to his coach “I promise I’ll stop in precisely 30 minutes”
You nodded with a sigh. There was nothing you could do to stop him. Something told you that even if you threatened him to leave he would stay and practice, he would stay on the ice for far more than just 30 minutes if you weren’t around. 
So you sat down and waited for him. And he fell time and time again, his face growing displeased with himself at each passing second, each time he jumped but didn't manage to land. 
Jeonghan had done that same jump countless times before with ease as if one's body would simply perform such movements. To him, it always seemed as easy as walking. You had seen it in all of his videos, almost in trance by him. 
“If you’re not done in twenty-one minutes” you pretended to look at your imaginary watch “I’m taking you out of there by force”
Jeonghan threw his head back, laughing. 
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“Remember when you said that you never skated before?” Jeonghan asked after finally being able to breathe properly again.
You weren’t too sure how, but he had stopped after 30 minutes. A big smile on his face after he managed to land the jump after so many tries. After getting it right once, he didn’t get it wrong again. It was like something clicked inside his brain as if he had found the last missing piece of the puzzle.
Of all the things you said to Jeonghan, from the most personal to the most trivial, that was, by far, the only one you regretted. You had told him over the phone but he looked horrified, it was easy to imagine the wide eyes on his face.
But him standing there, in front of you, with a smile that could only be seen on the face of a mischievous child, said much more than any words he could utter.
“No,” you said, shaking your head, already moving back.
You had learned several peculiarities about Jeonghan in all the months you spent by his side, and one of the most glaring was the look in his eyes when he was about to do something he shouldn't.
“You have to try, at least once” his lips were a mixture of a smile and a pout “You will have the best teacher in the world”
You saw it and shook your head again.
“I can’t trust a teacher who spent the day falling” you pointed to the rink behind him.
As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You didn't know if your words would offend him, you hoped he knew it wasn't your intention. But you also knew that hell was paved with good intentions. Jeonghan was silent for a minute, his face serious, his eyes not leaving yours for an entire minute.
Then he smiled, his nose wrinkling a little as he laughed, loudly. It didn't take long for you to join him.
“You’re evil,” he said, trying to control himself, but failing “This way you’re going to break my heart”
“I think there are few things in this world that can break your heart.”
You would definitely be one of them, Jeonghan wanted to say, but he held his tongue in his mouth. He knew he couldn't say that, he knew that any word said wrongly could simply ruin everything he had built so far. If he could even say he built something. He liked to think so.
From the first time you spoke, Jeonghan knew there was no going back, at least for him. He had never done anything like that. He had never called someone in the middle of the night simply because he wanted to hear someone's voice. And in this case, it wasn't just someone's voice, it was your voice that he wanted to hear.
With each passing sentence, Jeonghan found himself falling more in love with you and he wasn't able to say why. Maybe he could blame it on your eyes, always so focused, but somehow when they turned to him, they seemed so sweet and sincere. Or your voice, which gave orders and asked incisive questions, but as soon as the cameras were turned off it became gentle and almost shy. Maybe it was the fact that you seemed like a lioness when you were working, never giving space for unfounded questions, but you were shy when it was just the two of you alone.
He liked this version of you, who was right in front of him, who seemed completely comfortable with him, to the point of making jokes — something that until that moment you hadn't done yet.
“We always have extra pairs in the back, I'm sure one of them is your size” he had made sure you would, with Seungkwan's help of course “And then we try it, what do you think?”
Even though you were shaking your head, you went to the closet where you knew the skates were stored.
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With your knees bent and shaking, you stepped onto the ice and immediately regretted giving in to Jeonghan's will. You didn't know how he had managed it, but in the closet, there was a brand new pair of skates, your size. Jeonghan had smiled as he bent down to tie your shoelaces,
“I’m going to fall flat on my face,” you said as you grabbed the bars.
Jeonghan held your face in his hands, your eyes fixed on his.
“I won’t let you fall”
The way the words left his lips made your heart skip a beat, or maybe several of them. You could feel it on the back of your throat and you could swear that your hands shook a little as you accepted the hand Jeonghan had extended to you. 
You wished it could just stop. Not for your heart to stop beating altogether but for it to stop reacting to Jeonghan. Everything changed after that first call and you weren’t too sure of where it was. He had, someway, somehow, become a pivotal point of you. His voice, his eyes. The way tingles started to run down through your body the moment his skin came in touch with yours. How, despite all odds, he made you feel safe in a way you weren’t too sure you had ever experienced before.
When he said that he wasn’t going to you fall, you believed him so you held his hands — strong enough that you were sure were hurting him but he didn't seem to mind — and allowed Jeonghan to pull you into the rink. 
“Don't move your feet” he said, voice ever so sweet but with a slight hint of teasing “I know it's probably hard, but let me take control here”
Forcing out all of the remaining air inside your lungs, you did as he asked. Instead of keeping your focus on the ice under your feet, you kept them in Jeonghan's face. A mistake, of course. 
His eyes were too intense if you could say that. You didn't want to understand what was happening. Perhaps for the first time since you met Jeonghan, you didn't want to understand what it could mean. You were scared. What, exactly, you weren’t sure.
“I didn’t even have to ask you to look at me,” he said and you laughed a little, automatically looking away “Keep looking at me”
The whole experience of skating for the first time, or being guided, was not being registered by your brain. All you could see, think, feel, was Jeonghan, as if he had become a central point of everything.
“I think we should stop here”
You hoped your voice was loud enough and judging by the look on Jeonghan's face, it was. The smile fell from his lips and it was as if a small light in his eyes had gone out.
You hated that you were the one causing that reaction in him, but you knew it was best to stop everything before it went too far.
"I thought that…"
“We can’t blur the lines that much” you shook your head.
You didn't know exactly who you were trying to convince, him or you. You also weren't sure you had to convince yourself of anything. It was as if your brain had split in two. One part, probably the loudest, wanted you to just let things happen. You knew you weren't doing anything wrong, you weren't doing anything much really. What you did outside of your working hours and who you did it with was your problem and no one else's.
But the other part, one that spoke softly and that should have had much less strength, said it was dangerous, but also didn't offer much reason to be dangerous.
Yet somehow, that was the side you chose to listen to.
"Why?" He asked forcing his feet to the ground, making the two of you stand in the center of the rink. “What line are we blurring?”
You shook your head, hands clinging to his waist as you felt your feet begin to slide.
“I don’t know” you whispered in response “We are working”
Jeonghan leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheek. With a sigh, he let his forehead fall onto your shoulder and closed his eyes.
You didn't know exactly where your skepticism came from, but you were also sure it wasn't completely unfounded. But truth be told, you wanted to blur that line and any others that might appear along the way.
“Go on a date with me,” he said “If you still feel that way, there’s nothing we can do. Just don’t… don’t stop something that hasn’t even started yet”
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theemporium · 11 months
Note
Wait wait, what happens in his van!!! Please? I beg of you!
well since you asked so nicely...👀
part one
.
You had been counting down the seconds until the final bell rang. 
Ever since lunch, you had been a flustered mess and it was all Eddie’s fault. You couldn’t concentrate on anything but the stupid smug smile on his face and the way his hand fit between your legs and his fingers—
And you were a fucking mess. 
Your panties were soaked and your thighs burned a little from how much you had been squeezing and rubbing them together. It took all your self-control to not hunt him down and drag him out to his van during one of your classes. Or better yet, sort yourself out in one of the bathroom stalls. 
But you were patient and you waited. 
You waited and waited and waited, and god, did Eddie make it worth it. 
“Shit, baby, look how well you take my cock.” 
Your whines were muffled by the sweater you had nuzzled your face against, your body rocking with each of his thrusts. He made you climb into the back, telling you he wanted you naked and ready for him the second he shut the door. He waited until the entire parking lot was empty before he climbed into the back with you, cooing at the way your body shook and leaked for him—all for him. 
“God, you really are a fucking slut,” he groaned, the sound of skin slapping against skin bouncing off the walls of the van as he gripped your hips, watching the way your cunt sucked him in with every thurst of his hips. “Were you this wet all day, baby? Were you this fucking desperate all day?” 
“Just wanted you,” you moaned, your cheek pressed against the balled up fabric as your lips parted with silent screams as he pistoned from behind you. “Needed you so bad, Eddie.” 
The blood rushed down to his cock, his ego was practically through the roof with the cock-drunk rambles that left your lips. “Yeah? You wanted my cock, baby? You wanted me to fuck you dumb?” 
“So bad, Eddie,” you cried out, your hands reaching back to hold some part of him, to touch some part of him. Your whole body craved him in every way you could possibly achieve. 
But Eddie acted quicker. 
He grabbed your hands, managing to hold both wrists in one hand before he kept them pinned against your back. He used it as leverage, pulling your body back on his cock with fast, harsh thrusts as you screamed around him. 
“That’s it, baby, fucking scream f’me,” he moaned, his head falling back as your ass bounced against his pelvis. “Tell me how fucking good my cock feels. Tell me how fucking deep I am inside you.” 
You felt like a million nerves exploded like fireworks throughout your whole body. Your throat rough and raw from the moans and begs you let out, the way you screamed his name as you came around his cock, as he continued to fuck you to his own release like you were just a toy for his pleasure. 
Your whole body felt heavy when he finally slid out, your face pressed against his sweater and your ass in the air as he watched the mix of both of your releases leak out of you, sliding down your thighs to create a mess. 
“Mmm, my pretty girl,” Eddie murmured as he leaned down, pressing a kiss against the cheek of your ass before quickly swatting your skin. “Hope you’re not too tired, I’m nowhere done with you yet.” 
“Eddie,” you whined, wiggling your hips for him. 
“Oh? You ready to go again?” he said with a laugh of disbelief. “My pretty little slut, all fucking dumb and stupid for my cock, huh?”
You moaned at his words, leaning back in hopes he would reach out and touch you again. 
“Shhh, baby, don’t need to cry for my cock. It’s all yours.”
.
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𝑀𝑦 𝐶𝑎𝑡 𝐼𝑛 𝐷𝑖𝑠𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑒
A/N: This is definetly not me projecting my love for cats and Regulus. Also, if anyone is interested in documentaries, I recommend you watching "Inside of a cat's mind". It was really interesting, and also a seratonin boost for me.
A/N: I feel like this sucks but I couldn't think of another way to end this, I hope you guys like it!
Prompts used: "I love her so bad" from this, "you are my favourite, you always have been." from this.
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"That's downright ridiculous..."
"Oh, come on, Reggie! What better way than this to show your lover your new animagus form?"
Regulus swinged his tail back and forth angrily as he laid on his mattress on his front legs, even rolling his eyes at his dumb friends as they continued to tease him with his brand-new look. It wasn't like he could talk in that form, but he was so goddamn sure that his eyes gave his thoughts away. What started this conversation and the endless teasing from his friends was that Regulus could now transform into his Animagus form.
Which was a black cat. A cute and cuddly one, as Pandora said while scratching his ears as Barty and Evan made fun of him for being soft. He hissed at them loudly, showing his sharp claws as a silent threat as he nuzzled closer to the sweater under his paws, full of your smell and perfume as a little happy smile found his face, watching Pandora who had been petting him as she chastised the other two in the room.
But it did nothing to help.
Since when it did anyways? Nothing could stop those idiots...
Barty and Evan let out a bark as they rolled on their bed, Barty crouching down with his hands on his knees in front of Pandora who had been sitting down on the ground, shaking her head for him not to do anything that would anger Regulus.
But, as usual, Barty didn't care, and dramatically wiped a fake tear from his eye as he offered his forefinger to Regulus, who had been eyeing him with bored eyes and an evil plan, wondering if it was obvious on his cat face as he imagined the delight he would feel.
"Awww, look at our little Reggie! So angry and deadly, with his little claws and teeth~ You are so soft now, so cuddly that I can just-AHHH!"
But of course, Regulus' personality didn't change just because he turned into a cat and since everyone practically knew not to call him that name... Well, except for his lovely lover you, and Barty still did it...
It was only fair for him to bite his finger and claw at his face.
"And that's what happens when you mess with Regulus, Barty. He is still the same friend we have that absolutely hates to be teased and that's what you get..." Pandora sighed out as she rose up, passing by them in the common room as she got out. She didn't care about the screaming behind her, Evan cackling on the ground about "how Barty got bitten by a kitten" while the boy tried to convince him that "it was a literal cheetah that bit him and not a kitten" as if his cooings and awes weren't the reason behind that cat's anger.
Well, he warned him that he didn't like that nickname so he had it coming, right?
Regulus nuzzled deeper into Pandora's arms as the young girl giggled, smiling to herself at seeing her friend happy as he always was whenever he had that special clothing close to him. "Don't worry, Regulus... I know Y/N is in the Great Hall, preparing you food again. So, I'll take you to your precious lover~"
And if his face couldn't show the possible blush on his face and how comedically wide his eyes were, the way he jumped up and kneaded your sweater that he found in his room after stealing it definetly did the job.
His heart beated harder at the thought of seeing you, preparing him a plate with a cute frown and possibly cursing at him for not caring about his health as you made little talk with your friends here and there...
He always knew he was one hell of a lucky guy for finding someone like you. So caring and loving and supporting...
All his life, Regulus never had known love or care. At least not from his mother and her twisted way of showing love and his father's abuse. All he had, for the longest time, was his brother and even then, he never thought he could have more, deserved more.
More of that love and affection he craved.
So, after pinning after you since the firs year, he finally had the courage of asking you out... Even if he didn't want to think back to that day because of the high stuttering of his, a sign of how nervous he was and how important you were to him.
Because that mother and father of his might have failed at showing what true love means, he had plenty of times to secretly read all about romantic books and witness it with his own mind and heart. He often thought that they weren't real, that the author went overboard with all the struggles and fights the main characters went through for the love they shared with each other, strong enough to stand against every strong wind, army or even death.
He questioned whether love was worth it all, when he wanted something serene and comforting. He was done with all the fights anyways, he didn't want any of those any more.
He deserved that at least, right?
But soon, he realized that not everyone is like his parents. Not every relationship is disasterous with the fights and disagreements... They are what makes it stronger and more powerful, with every hardship that comes.
He learnt that without those waves and little obstacles in the way, the comforting relationship and tender love he desperately needed would never be his.
So, he gulped down his worries and confessed his love to you, in one of the many times that you two hung out in the Astronomy Tower. By that time, you were already aware of his feelings by the way he was so soft with you and actually seeked to spend more time with you throughout your days together.
Besides, you were sure Regulus didn't spend his time taking girls to watch stars as he rambled about each of them while subconsciously holding your hand.
But then... Another problem arose: Showing his affections, a basic need of a relationship in his eyes.
Because, as any sane person could tell, Regulus didn't have the healthiest of relationship with his parents even though he knew what they... had between each other was far from love. He knew he would never dare, and rather kill himself, to do any of the things they did to each other to you. He knew he wanted to hold you, kiss you, openly show his love, the way his eyes shone brighter at the sight of you as you skipped to him was enough of a sign...
But he knew he wouldn't be able to bear all the teasing his friends and his brother, with whom he recently fixed his relationship, would do.
And he hated himself for thinking like that, doing the exact opposite of what he wanted to do when you didn't deserve it at all. He didn't want you to think that he was ashamed of you, which you never did and gold him that it was fine he didn't declare his love out all the time like a certain older brother of his and knew he loved you through his actions...
But it wasn't enough for him, it wasn't enough for the voices in his mind to stop.
You deserved a man who wouldn't shy away, who didn't have severe issues with himself. Someone who wasn't the item of a fucked up ideology... Someone who would be proud and confident in both himself and you, slinging an arm around you while walking and give you anything you asked for.
Perhaps a free future... Away, in a cottage with some animals...
But he was a selfish man who wanted to be that person, to be the reason of your smile and happiness every day. He just... had to find a way to show all of these thoughts and feelings.
But he was bad at it... So, why not get the help of a cute animal to see what you exactly like? And show his feelings?
"I swear to Merlin, I will strangle that boy when I see him! He disappears all the time, without eating! Who does he think he is?" You angrily turned to your friend who was eating her fries as she stopped her hand mid-air and looked at you with her eyes and mouth wide open. "What? Who?"
"Regulus, of course! That boy will give me a heart attack at one point, the other day I found him literally choking Barty because of that nickname again!" You angrily scoffed as you dumped more food like an angry mother, but your friend only laughed because of the twitch of your lips upwards.
"Yeah, but you love him and his special treatment, no?" She wiggled her brows as she continued to eat and you sighed out in bliss, a loving and stupid smile plastering on your face.
And yes, yes you loved him and his stupid grin whenever he teased you and his sweet smile as he watched you do your own thing.
But it wasn't enough of a reason to not to scold him when you see him as soon as possible.
"Maybe. And yes, I very much so am in love with him but I'll strangle him anyways... He promised to not pick up fights and take care of himself better- Oh, hi Pandora!"
You turned fast to where the bubbly girl was coming to your way, excitedly waving at her when your eyes landed on... the cutest ball of sunshine on her arms.
"Hi, Y/N! I see that you are... agitated?" She snorted to herself as she saw how you changed your mood at the sight of the cat between her arms as you nodded absentmindedly to her, waving off her question while scratching the little cat's chin with a stupid smile on your face. It was a known fact around the school how weak you were to them, and also your boyfriend.
With you both being smitten with each other, y'know?
Unknown to you though, that cat was the boy you loved, and he was soaking all the love in like a sponge. He was grinning from ear to ear, as much as a cat would be able to do, and he jumped down from where he was seated between Pandora's arms and flunged himself up towards your legs, pawing at them to make you cuddle him.
Patheatic, his inner voice said but he answered with I love her so bad....
"Well, it seems that our friend loves you very much!" She wiggled her brows playfully as you giggled, not aware of the daggers the cat, Regulus, was giving to your dear friend. Pandora didn't care though, she knew he never meant any of those stares and besides, that was exactly the moment for her to leave him with you so that he could get his head out of his arse and see how much you loved him and didn't care if he showed his love around people or not.
Because, by the state he was in, he didn't know shit about the extend of your love for him.
"Then, I will leave you with him! Don't worry he is very docile and easygoing, I'm sure you two will get along well! Goodbye!"
"Wait, Pandora- Wow, she left so soon..." you mumbled in thought as you looked down at the cat still pawing at your legs with wide blue eyes, his pupils almost so big that his eyes couldn't be seen as he meowed softly to you.
"Aww, don't worry I won't leave you! But I was going to visit my careless boyfriend who forgot to eat, again..." you kneeled on the ground with a playful scowl as you took him between your arms, cooing at the loud purr he let out as he nuzzled deeper in you. "I think he will like you too, what do you say? Hmm?"
Yeah, love, considering the fact that it's me... I think I will like myself enough...
Throughout the walk to your boyfriend's dorm, you kept the same big smile on your face as you kept looking down at the cat and squeezed his cheeks with your fingers. Cuteness agression is really something, you thought as he looked around the familiar sight of the door to his house's common room. He started to whine and get angsty a little bit, not wanting this "cuddle session" to come to an end.
"Don't worry, little one! I'm not leaving, I will sit here until Reg comes back and probably beg him to let me have you all to myself..."
He meowed in response, wincing under his breath at how this was the only way to communicate with you. Love, you already has that cat to yourself...
You smiled softly as the cat sniffed Regulus' bed and jumped on it, circling around himself until he found a good position and stared at you expectantly. You smiled back at the cat and turned your back to him to set the food down on his desk. Suddenly staring at the dark sky outside and seeing how long has it been that you last saw Regulus, you sighed sadly, wondering when he will be back and whether you should get out of his dorm before his friends arrived or not.
Sensing your sudden sadness, Regulus immediately jumped up and meowed at you hurriedly. Even as a cat, he was weak for your sadness and immediately alerted.
"Hmm? Oh nothing, little guy... Just wondering when my boyfriend will come and finally start to take care of himself." You laughed when he hissed softly and almost seemed like he was pointing at the bed. "You want me to lay down?"
A barely-there nod.
"Okay... I think I can use some rest. Scoot over..." you shuffled on the bed as its silky feeling engulfed you, resulting with you letting out a relieved sigh as the cat purred happily over your chest. You trailed a soft finger down his spine and up towards his face, your hand patting him while holding him as if he was a baby.
And he freaking loved it, loved the feeling of safety of your arms.
And obviously, when cats were happy, they purred loudly.
"Hmm? Oh, you like me? I like you too, little guy! You're so cute and so elegant with your black fur and shiny, blue eyes." Regulus purred even more loudly as he nestled on your chest, bumping his head to your chin, and neck as a way of marking you. You giggled at the cat, actually your possessive boyfriend, and continued to play with the playful cat as he made several cute moves with his body and eyes.
His behaviour surprised you, since you thought black cats were mostly grumpy and "I show affection ONLY when I want to, human." kind of animals. But this one....
This one didn't even leave your side for the whole day and instead laid on your lap, purring at every chance he had. Somewhere in a muggle book, you remembered reading that a cat's purring often touches the paternal part in one's brain and that's why humans care for them a lot.
Which was goddamn right, even if it was the same frequency of a baby crying. But though a baby's cry was often irritating with its high pitch, a cat's purr was comforting.
Another reason to convince Regulus to adopt kittens for when you left the school, and settled in an apartment as soon as possible.
"And you remind me of someone I reaaally love, y'know? I'm sure he would like to have you... Don't tell him this, but you are now my favourite thing in the world!"
Wait... Wait, wait, wait! What? That was so offensive! A cat, who you knew for a few hours, took your favourite place?!
"Meowwww!"
Nope, he couldn't let it happen! The plan wasn't even this!
"Hmm? What's wrong, did I say something bad?" You wondered as the cat you adored suddenly turned pissy, throwing what you assumed as "cat tantrums" after whatever you said that triggered him. Regulus, though, started to pace around the bed nervously. You tilted your head in confusion as the cat he jumped up and tugged on your robes to make you get up.
Yeah, cats definetly have God-complex...
"Okay, okay, fine! I'm up, I seriously don't know what... is... wrong..." your jaw hung open with your eyes wide when the black cat you adored and showed immense love to was... None other than your boyfriend.
"Regulus?"
"Hi, love..." he shyly looked at you as his hand caressed his face tiredly, tugging on the skin as he grumbled at the stinging pain on his back while trying to relieve himself from the pain. "Damn it, my spine hurts..."
"What... I don't understand, you have been the cat?! All this time?" You pointed to him with your hands in surprise, still not believing that the cat was your boyfriend who apparently learnt to become an animagus.
"Yeah, I was the cat..."
"But... why? Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of you for achieving becoming an animagus," he smiled softly at how you didn't miss the opportunity of praising him for his accomplishment, and he couldn't help but wonder at how easy it was for you to see past the fact that he hid something from you. He expected you to be angry for hiding it, but you were just... confused?
Why?
"But why did you hide it? I mean, it's a pretty big deal and your cat form was so beatiful with your little paws, soft fur and big eyes- I'm starting to loose the point of the talk, so please... explain."
He laughed when you finished your rant with a blushing face, looking at him with a flustered face as you waited. He knew you wouldn't judge, Merlin knew you never did, so he sat down on his bed and patted the area next to him.
"Because... I didn't know what else to do to show you." You continued to look at him confused for a second, occasionally side eyeing the room as if a clue would suddenly appear and lighten whatever that was going on right now.
"Well, it's only logical to show me rather than throwing random bottles on the ground... But I think you don't mean you, being a liquid-"
"Cats are not liquid, love..." Regulus sighed lovingly as you knitted your brows and playfully shook your head before laying a kiss on his cheek. "No, they are! They fit into anything possible even an asymetrical glass box!"
"When did you see a cat do that?"
"My sibling's cat... Though it could be because it is weird..."
He laughed as you seriously started to wonder whether what you said about the cat was true or not, and pulled you to himself by your shoulders. He was grateful you changed the subject after noticing he was slightly uncomfortable but...
He had to be honest after spending the whole day with you, and seeing what Pandora said about you and how much stronger your love was for him.
Because he finally knew, he didn't have to be a cat spy to show you his love.
"As much as my heart feels like it could explode with love from you noticing I was uncomfortable and tried to change the subject," you smiled bashfully as you blinked your eyes at him, not stopping him. He sighed once before keep going. " I did it to show you... how much I love you and show my affection in the only way I knew."
You would have cut him in the middle but by the slight wavering of his voice, you knew that it was something he had to get off of himself... That this conversation was important for him in every way possible.
So you listened... And with every word passing his lips, your eyes softened for the fragile and soft-hearted boy next to you.
"I never knew love, I never knew how to love and show it freely. Mom and dad saw it as a weakness, others saw it as some inconvenience... Sirius was the only one I have, and even then, he was the one expressing his feelings freely. Not me. I always did it silently... Taking care of Sirius' injuries after mother punished him or dad beat him. I did it by stealing his favourites from the kitchen or learning how to make them when my parents weren't home...."
A deep sigh, one that told many unsaid stories and feelings.
" Then I showed it with taking notes for my friends when they weren't able to attend classes. I showed it by taking care of their many injuries that definetly weren’t a result of training but rather... abuse. Merlin knows, I know those kind of bruises like the back of my hand. Then... But then, you came along with your shining eyes and wide smile, asking if you could sit with me in the train and suddenly... I-I wanted to be more. For you. I wanted to be enough of a man to deserve your love and show it to the whole world. Like my brother who openly hugged people, and kissed their cheeks or nuzzled to them... But soon, I was reminded that I would always be his shadow."
Silence scretchted between you as you continued looking at him, not being sure what to do now that he suddenly opened up about why he was avoiding you. You definetly didn't think your night would end up like this, even if him opening up to you was everything you wanted, but you would never be able to know that feeling.
Feeling like someone's shadow, having to endure what Regulus endured... Something he was grateful that never happened and would never happen now that you were with him.
You wouldn’t understand any of it, but you could be there for him now that he wouldn't be alone.
"You once asked me... 'Do you ever hide who you trully are?' at the side of the Black Lake in one of our nightly dates. I kept my silence then, didn't want to scare you off with my strong feelings since it was still too early but not for me who loved you for 2 year prior to that night, but... I never did, not with you, never with you. But... I never felt enough for you. I mean... How could someone as amazing as you would deserve the love of some coward? Someone who feared showing love?" He almost spitted the word "fear" as he shook his head in near disbelief at himself and how "ridiculous" he sounded, and you hated how much self-loathing he had and how easy it was for him to point that hatred to himself.
You had to change it, maybe not immediately but definetly in time.
"Regulus..." you softly rubbed his hand softly to make him look at you, and when he turned his head towards you... You saw the tears pooling in his ocean eyes. Your heart dropped to your stomach harshly as you gulped and brought his forehead down to meet yours. A silent move to convey your feelings to him.
"How could you not be enough of something you already have, from the very beginning?" You rubbed his cheek softly, bringing his face closer to yours as you kissed his eye-lids. As if you were scared to hurt him even more, when what all the world had been doing to him was hurting him.
Regulus shuddered as a shaky breath left him, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of your words. He lifted his eyes, looked into your own that showed only one thing and only for him: Love.
"You are enough, even if you don't think so and I love you, I loved you from the beginning." A gasp left him as his hands thightened their hold on yours nervously. You laughed awkwardly. " You don't have to say it immediately but... Please, don't be so harsh on yourself. It's okay to not want to do PDA, I already told you.... All I care is your happiness, that's it."
And with that, Regulus threw himself all over you from the immense feeling he was feeling at that moment, hugging you with all his might as you returned to gesture just as fiercely. After all, it had been a long day and you missed your boyfriend, the one that would speak about Quidditch nonstop all the while letting you sleep on him as his hands caressed your hair and rubbed your back softly.
Just like now, with the adding of inhaling the scent of your hair deeply which made your heart race sweetly.
And now that the stress of him was now over and you knew what was going on...
It was time to tease him back.
"Did you just get jealous of a cat enough to come clean to me?" You mumbled from your position where your face was buried in his neck, the tingles making him giggle as a groan left him at feeling your smile on his skin.
"Love, please!"
"What? You are the one who was jealous!" You giggled playfully, but your enjoyment was soon cut when Regulus threw himself on his bed with his arms still wrapped around you. You landed harsher on his chest than you imagined and you were worried you accidently crushed him but his sigh of contentment and the way he nuzzled to your neck showed that he was far from being bad.
"I can't believe you now have a nuzzling habit, are you going to knead at me too?" You hit his chest softly when his eyes shot open and an evil smirk found his face.
Oh, that's not something good...
"I already did it earlier when I laid on your chest- Oww!"
"Regulus Arcturus Black, when did you have a foul mouth!" You hit him with his pillow as he laughed hard and ended up on the floor while trying to stop you.
"What can I say, love. I have the most gorgeous lover of all Hogwarts!"
That little shit and his sweet tongue, knowing how to get himself out of any problem...
"Okay, you got out of trouble for now... You are my favourite by the way, you always have been, in case your childish self got jealous of a cat..." you grumbled out when his head landed on your thighs and looked up at you innocently.
"That cat was still me though..." he looked at you through his lashes as you giggled, relishing on your words and how they made warmth spread all around his whole body.
"Yeah, yeah, sure... There is something I have to show you though. I was planning for a few days now. Promise to not get sad?" He nodded without knowing and guessing what was happening...
But the only thought that crossed Regulus' mind, when he saw you changing into a pure white cat, was I love her.
As you swinged your tail around Regulus' waiting hand and nuzzled to him, he smiled softly and scratched your head softly while patting your ears. His heart felt so full of love and he didn't remember any other day he felt this much happiness.
"You are... most certaintly the most beautiful yet also annoying person I know. Being a white cat Animagus, completely contrasting me but also creating something so beautiful? Did you think I will let go of you easily after this?"
You tilted your head teasingly and let out a purr before changing back into your human form with your feet dangling off of the bed like a little kid as you threw your head back towards him to look at his raised brows while he tried to surpass the smirk that threatened to take over his face.
"Yeah, I know... But you love me, no?" You cutely smiled as you nuzzled closer to his chest, and unknown to you, he smiled to himself like a fool as he wrapped his arms all around your body thightly when your body reached where he was now sitting on the bed.
Oh Merlin, he already does love everything about you.
"Can we... cuddle like that? As cats? It could be our new bonding activity!"
"I can't believe... Okay, fine. Don't try anything funny though."
"Like what?"
"Like the meaning of that wiggly eye-brows!"
But since you both were weak for each other, you two soon dozed off like that, one white and black cat tangled together peacefully as their hearts beated the same beat.
Not knowing that the next day, Barty would startle everyone awake and embrass you while yelling "Our Reggie found another chich, cat, kitten, whatever! He is cheating on our sweet Y/N!"
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bunicate · 1 month
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⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒃𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒓����. lucifer x fem reader
warnings ꒱ྀི daddy kink. prbly excessive use of princess/little girl/human. size kink. praise. nipple sucking. fingering. possessive luci. unedited as usual. wc ꒱ 6k ノ 18+
note . . ᘏ⑅ᘏ ノ i dunno if this is even a repost anymore bcuz the original fic was only 2k words :c . . i also thought I wasn’t cwazy abt luci anymore but boy . . wus i wrong. i still luv him dearly. i hope anyone who reads this enjoys. thankuuu ^_^
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lucifer could never understand why humans, beings fettered by something as meaningless as mortality, could possess the ties to control and bind demons.
how such frail bodies of small messes, succumbing to sicknesses, phobias, and other little weirds are able to form pacts with such powerful creatures
it’s a polarizing thought that he’s never challenged or sought to change. he understands them for what they are. arguably worse than demons, and he wants nothing to do with them. they are violent, weak, and fickle, and somehow—in the irony of it all—the universe plays a trick on him.
he lowered his defenses and foolishly got ahead of himself. he was unlike his brothers; he didn’t need love or companionship, and yet, of all the powerful beings and creatures, it’s a human that turned him into something unrecognizable.
it was faceless, sneaking up on him, and he was unable to remedy it as he slowly felt it consume him whole.
a bond was webbed between the two of you, and he’s certain, frighteningly so, that nothing could break it.
granted, that level of trust surely didn’t form overnight, as you proved to be quite troublesome. you were used to peeking your nose where it didn’t belong and going into places mortals should never be, making his job more difficult, but still, he trusts you.
with six younger demon brothers and a human to look after, discord became frequent. secrets wrapped tightly were easily unveiled just from your existence in devildom.
he kept a mental checklist of all your wrongdoings, and now your invasion of his heart was another.
his heart.
nothing but proof of his existence, only meant to pump blood and oxygen, has now expanded far too much to fit within his ribcage. it was suffocating.
it made room for a different kind of love, for someone else, and he didn’t think it was possible. he became spoiled by your affections.
he yearned so much for you that he was convinced that his carnage and sadism might have withered. at least, that's what he thought, only to realize it’s been tucked away in a cavity that you simultaneously filled.
he’s unfortunately reminded that it never really went anywhere. he’s respected and feared by all, and yet it wasn’t enough to deter his brothers from causing any mishaps, especially one in particular.
♡ . . ♡
it’s dinner when lucifer decides to strike.
chatter and the smell of only the best food in devildom fill the room. he almost feels bad for souring the joyful atmosphere—almost, but as always, there's an impending conflict that would render him irritable for the rest of the night.
he sits at the head of the table as the eldest brother and strongest demon, earning everyone's stare from the shift in the atmosphere. you and his brothers could sense that he wasn’t going to make a meager announcement. lucifer moves slowly, careful to prevent any of his heedless anger from slipping through.
he looks at everyone in the room, but his gaze lingers on you a bit longer.
“forgive me for interrupting dinner, but it’s come to my attention that someone here has stolen something valuable of mine.” his voice is deep, stern, and accusing. it echoes in the candle-lit hall.
“my credit card.”
maybe it's his sadistic streak, but he knew asking that question was ultimately trivial. he knows which of his brothers is guilty; you all did.
there’s only one demon dumb and desperate enough to steal from lucifer of all people, and while the perpetrator was obvious, it didn’t make anyone any less anxious.
the avatar of pride is infamous for his punishments, and no one wanted to be on the receiving end. when anything goes amiss, they must answer to him, and you were no exception to that rule.
you point your manicured finger at mammon, and his expression morphs into utter terror. he yelps at your tattling, already plotting at least three different ways to make his escape.
“oh my,” asmo laughs.
belphie yawns obnoxiously, unamused by the series of events. it was just another typical night in the house of lamentation; nothing should surprise anyone, and still, lucifer let a troubled sigh escape.
mammon throws a fit of indignation, as if his culpability wasn’t already obvious.
tossing his hands in the air, he whines, “damn it. why’d ya’ have to tell?” he slides down the seat of the chair, trying to avoid lucifer’s angered stare as much as possible.
you don’t think to reply, almost even rolling your eyes at him. everyone knows it’s him, and like the well-behaved girl you are, you figure it makes no sense to drag out the inevitable.
but when everyone’s eyes settle on you in curiosity, you slouch in your chair and blush at the sudden attention. you feel nervous, like you made a blunder of some sort.
they expectantly await your answer, but you don't have one.
“s-sorry, mammon,” you squeak out.
your hands in between your thighs and fidget under their stares.
you couldn’t, at least not confidently, admit that lucifer has you wrapped around his finger. he expects far too much of you, and you couldn’t possibly ruin that because of mammon, but that didn’t lessen the slight guilt from easing in.
“don’t apologize,” lucifer says, bolstering his voice—his attempt at scolding mammon while reassuring you.
“it’s not up to her to entertain your lies. perhaps if you weren’t always up to no good, she wouldn’t have to confess to your wrongdoings,” he lectures.
he sneers at him, and you watch as the younger demon slinks back further. “you’re the second oldest. act like it.”
mammon huffs.
“ahhh, lucifer, you’re no fun.”
admittedly, the brothers would get away with a lot more if it weren’t for your honesty.
make no mistake, they all love you dearly, but the troublemakers couldn’t tolerate your obedience when it comes to lucifer.
when he asked you who ate all the food satan prepared for breakfast the next day, you didn’t hesitate to say it was beel. when he asks you who wrote ‘lucifer sucks :p’ on his wall, you don’t stutter to inform him of satan’s and belphie’s not-so-secretive plan of his tormentation.
anything he wants, anything he asks, you obey. that was just the nature of your relationship.
after mammon realizes pouting won’t get him out of trouble with lucifer, he goes back to eating, and the others follow suit. soon the lively atmosphere returned, but you felt rather self-conscious.
you looked over at lucifer in the hope of finding something that you're weren't sure of yet, only to see that he was already staring at you. you nibble on your spoon, suddenly feeling bare from his lowered gaze.
there is a sense of security that you crave. his look of approval serves as a reminder of why you’re faithful to him. it was rewarding to know that your loyalty didn’t go unnoticed.
you look away quickly to hide your flusteredness by sipping on your tea, but the sweet taste of earl gray isn’t enough to distract you.
dinner begins to slow and wrap up. one by one, everyone bids their goodbyes. mammon is the first to depart, knowing he’d need as much of a head start as possible. when you finish the remainder of your dinner, you get up to leave as well.
you think about how to spend the rest of your evening, and your mind wanders to cramped thighs and ruined pillows.
you grow heated by the memory of previous nights. you touched yourself too many times to count after constantly witnessing lucifer’s disheveled state after his long day of reprimanding.
you stuffed your cunt with your fingers nightly, trying to mimic the feeling of something much larger. it was difficult to commit such acts quietly in a home full of creatures with nearly perfect hearing, and still, you wonder what fantasy will tether you tonight.
maybe the one when he fucks you in diavolo’s office, or your personal favorite, he punishes you.
you fantasize about him pulling up your dainty dress to put you over his lap and spank your plump ass until cum soaks your thighs, but tonight, you don’t have to conjure up anything.
lucifer stops you in the middle of your daydream. grabbing your wrist gently, he catches you by surprise.
you clumsily turn. frazzled eyes meet unwavering carmines. you’re almost certain he could hear the thump beating between your legs.
the prideful demon pulls you close, forcing your bodies to collide and connect like missing pieces. his breath is warm against your ear.
“would you like to come by my chambers later tonight?”
you look up to search his face, wondering if there’s even a sign of doubt. after countless days and nights and all sorts of muddled feelings between sheets, there is a part of you that can’t truly accept that he sought you.
one of the most eligible bachelors in all of devildom, known for his fearsomeness, is holding you like you were glass, asking for your company.
you soak in his expression, and it’s nothing less than firm and impenetrable, and it's then that you realize it was not a question. he was not asking.
struck with a whirlwind of desire from that revelation, you nod weakly, but the demon only shakes his head in response.
“words, my little human.”
your head tilts on its axis only for a moment. your chest had to be wide open, bearing your insides to him. the effect he had on you must have been that obvious. you’re a puddle.
was it normal to feel the static every time he was around, after every word he spoke?
you feel hazy, but also a small sense of relief that you no longer have to question if he still wants you. you’ve exhausted your fingers and toys, and finally, what you have been needlessly craving would be fulfilled in a room only a few doors down. his gaze flickers to your lips, and they shine with promise.
you mustered up all the courage you had left.
“yes, i would love to come by later.”
you’re amazed that it didn’t come out as wobbly as you anticipated. you’ve gotten better at pretending, you suppose.
lucifer gives you a sweet smile. he’s pleased with your answer, and butterflies erupt in your full belly.
his gloved hand then completely engulfs yours to bring it to his lips. not once breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckle before he departs. a hopeless romantic.
he sets out to find mammon, and that gives you enough time to prepare.
you stalk up the stairs, declining levi’s invitation for a night of competitive gaming pitifully on the way. you’ll make it up to him next time.
by ushering yourself into your room, you act immediately. you don’t spend too long getting ready. a steaming, hot shower would suffice. you wash up with a bar of gentle soap, then follow through with too many to-count spritzes of perfume and faint-smelling lotion.
white with pastel pink trim.
your night clothes are simple and short enough to keep him on his toes. you look over at yourself in the mirror.
when did you become so daring ? you didn’t know. maybe asmo’s tips on charm and seduction were finally rubbing off on you. you wonder what his reaction would be if you told him you were using them on his brother. maybe he already knew.
you turn off your light and open your door. you peek down the hall.
it’s silent and empty, just as you predicted.
quietly, you shut the door, cursing to yourself when you hear the faint cry of the rusty hinges. your trek down to his room was anxiety-inducing, but in a good way. you feel refreshed, your body is more than ready, and you’re excited.
you hoped no one would drop by unexpectedly. beel would most likely wake up in the middle of the night for a snack, but the kitchen was in the opposite direction of lucifer’s room. not that it mattered anyway.
it wasn’t really a secret—not that those lasted with you around—but it would be. . . awkward. you’d much rather not have to deal with anyone overhearing all the naughty things you’ll beg him to do.
you stop your train of thought when you reach the end of the hallway. you’re in front of his door, and you sway from your heels to your tippy toes. the fluttery ache in your chest was making you skittish.
you take a breath to compose yourself, and then you knock with three light taps.
“come in”
it takes a good chunk of your strength to open his heavy door, but you appreciate the time it grants you. it gives you the space to calm yourself down and ease your prickly nerves.
when you enter, you let your eyes wander around the room first. nothing but books, old records, and silhouettes of things you couldn’t make out in the dark. you walk in and find him leaning against his unusually messy desk.
there's soft light from the lamp that hugs his frame and illuminates his coat discarded on the nearby dresser.
he fiddles with the strap of his gloves, giving you a small smile at the sight of your presence.
“you don’t have to knock, my love.”
he allows his gaze to explore, drinking in the outfit you picked out specifically for him. already, his trousers are suffocating and distracting him, but he’s quick to recover.
you bite your lip out of habit under his lustful stare.
“i know, but i wanted to just in case you were busy . . .”
there’s an amused huff.
his long legs carry him over to where you stand swiftly. his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks, and he presses a kiss against your forehead.
“sweet girl.” and the way it skirts the edge of sensuality could make you melt. “even if i am, feel free to steal me away,” he whispers.
you swallow down a moan at the thought. maybe one day he'll eat those words.
his hand trails from your face to the nape of your neck and pauses.
“you washed your hair,” he observes.
you shake your head.
“it got a little wet in the shower so I’m just letting it air dry for a bit, luci.”
you pull at a wet strand and watch it dutifully bounce back in place. “ i was too lazy to dry it.“
he watches the notion with careful eyes. you wanted to giggle at how serious he looked.
“i wish you would’ve asked me to help you. i don’t want you getting a cold.”
you smile at his sincerity. you realized very early on that lucifer enjoyed tending to you. he likes consistency and being depended on.
‘it’s for your own well-being,’ he says, but you think he likes to have a pretty girl to fuss over
you offer him a small pout. “i did think about it, but i assumed you were still scolding mammon. i didn’t want to bother you.”
“besides.” you turn away, “i don’t think he wants to see me right now”
already, you’re embarrassed by the thought of facing mammon again. flustered, you recall tonight’s dinner and the look on their faces. you are definitely going to avoid them at school tomorrow.
you slouch, "he totally hates me.”
you say it half-heartedly, but lucifer looks at you with seriousness.
he softly grabs you by your chin. “don’t speak like that. he doesn’t hate you—none of us do, and i’m not sure we are capable of harboring such thoughts.”
you smile. “i dunno. i’m pretty sure you guys hated my guts when i first came.” you chuckle, thinking he’d at least join in, but he frowns. his heavy hand strokes the top of your head in an affectionate rhythm.
“we had our differences, and i was far too harsh. that i know.”
there’s a faraway look in his eye, and you know there’s a silent storm forming. you reach out to cup his cheek, and he melts into your touch.
“i never hated you,” he says.
you knew that your actions played a part in straining the early stages of your relationship. you also had to come to terms that not only lucifer, but multiple brothers harbored resentment towards humans,
its not a perfect story, but everything about this was completely unconventional. you’re just a woman who somehow found herself stuck in an attempt at other-worldly diplomacy, now sandwiched between the trying relationships of seven powerful demons.
things are rocky, but it’s the happiest you’ve ever been.
“i was only teasing, luci. i'm not mad or scared anymore.”
the hand you rested on his cheeks gets gripped by his larger ones, and he kisses your palm fondly.
“besides, i think we both know i wasn’t completely innocent.”
he takes a deep inhale.
“still, i think about how things were before.” he recalls the past in disdain; he blames his pride and then himself.
“my brothers and i . . . we are devoted to you, and we have the pacts to prove it.”
it’s a provocation you’re still not entirely used to. you had 7 demons who offered themselves to you, and the proof is imprinted on their skin.
in the human world, you’re everything and nothing at the same time. feelings of loneliness and insecurity that are far too loud and are still not enough to matter. you realized everyone lived selfishly, and your heart wasn’t hardened enough to follow suit.
lucifer's thoughts about humans didn’t change, despite his proximity to you. talks of your life as a young girl only cemented his thinking.
you were far too perfect for humans, too devious for angels, and too innocent for demons.
you were an entity on your own, and scarily he worshiped you. all of you.
he’d never tire of sinking his cock into your wet cunt, filling you with his seed, and hearing those saccharine moans that fall from glossed lips. he was ravenous, but you truly didn’t know the extent of it.
“my brothers care for you deeply, as do i, but you must know.” his eyes seem darker and much more predatory, and you can’t bring yourself to look away. like a bunny trapped in a hunter's cage, your doe eyes double in size and tremors rattle through your frame.
“you’re mine alone. your mind and body belong to only me.”
lucifer is well aware that six other cocks competed for your attention. a crass choice of words, but nothing less than true. they vied for the human girl, with nearly everyone wrapped around her dainty fingers. you are a color in the world shrouded in sisyphean darkness.
his lips part on your skin. “they can touch and taste you because i allow it.”
rough hands pull up your skirt, and he grabs a handful of your ass. “this . . . this is all mine.”
you make sure to turn and give your butt a little wiggle. it's more than a sultry gesture, and lucifer thinks a human so docile posing erotically might be the one thing to kill him.
how do you make soiled underwear look so pretty and enticing? there’s a possessive streak, a soft darkness that opens its curtains upon your presence. it peers over his shoulder, urging him to devour you. to pick at your remains until he’s consumed you.
“you're beautiful,” he groans. he inches close to you, and you think your lips are going to meet halfway, but he kisses your forehead.
then, your eyelids, your nose, and the side of your mouth, you look at him with half-lidded eyes, and he doesn’t budge when you try to squirm.
lucifer steps back and leads you to his chair. he settles into the squeaky leather until his back is comfortably cushioned.
he pats his firm lap.
“come.”
you know he’s holding back. his muscles ripple beneath you, he slouches farther into his chair, his legs spread to give his groin space to freely twitch against the slackness of his pants, and it only invites you
you struggle to decide where to sit. his knee or over his lap, both very promising positions, but he decides for you. he pulls your hip so your cunt is nestled right up against his cock. you sigh breathily, already your brain turning to mush.
“i didn’t even touch you, and you’re already making such a mess, sweet girl.”
the angle you tilt your head hides your expression, but from the flutter of your lashes and the purses of your lips, he knows you’ve grown shy.
"you kissed me,”
your sweet tone and your faint aroma of honeysuckle and jasmine make his cock stir.
“is that why you’re so worked up? just from my kiss?”
not even on the lips—not yet at least, and you’ve already wetted the fabric with your sticky arousal.
“what will happen when daddy touches right here?”
it’s a feathery graze against your protruding bud. his knuckles nudge the seat of the moist cotton, right where the white turned nearly transparent against your swollen cunt.
“it aches, doesn’t it?”
slender fingers slip under the band teasingly. he studies the subtle twitch of your hole, pumping a stream of glossy slick.
“do you want me to make it go away, hm? do you want daddy to make it better?”
you nod, a broken moan falling from your trembling lips.
“ i wantmore daddy.”
you spread your legs wider, hoping he’d be more generous with his caress.
“soon, my love.”
his hands trail from your pants to your stomach to your shoulders.
his hands rub your stomach and under your breast, settling right on your hip. you know he is hyper-aware of the thin fabric separating his cock from your heat.
even in his lap, he’s taller than you, but only by a few inches. his eyes are low and hazy.
“i wish to take my time with you.”
his thumb trails over your nipple.
“you have no idea how much i missed you.”
his other fingers pull at the other nipple.
you’ve felt those same digits on your neck, in your mouth, curled around your wrist and threaded between your fingers, and now between your thighs
he begins to grope at your exposed flesh. he admires how supple they appear, and he has to restrain himself from sinking his teeth into them.
your body never falters, and it responds so well to his hot and addicting touch. lucifer tries not to tease you; after all, he is rewarding you, but the little sounds and pants that leave your lips almost make him rethink.
your skirt is wrinkled, and he flips it at your hip, and your entire bottom half is almost fully exposed. your bare legs are on display, and so is your clothed mound. he mumbles sweet praises into the side of your breast while tracing the outline of your pussy through your pants with his finger.
you pull him away from your chest to kiss him, and lucifer has to remember that you’re human. that your small and pouty mouth, which struggles to swallow, is as fragile as the rest of you. palms splayed about on your back remind him he can mold you.
his hands are in a constant of motion, tugging and squeezing at your flesh. it feels like he’s in awe of every part of your body no matter how it differs from his. his touches are messy and yet controlled. they search you in subtle restraint, fearful that they’ll hurt you.
you’ve never been touched this way. to have someone want you so desperately— to possess you almost. his hands are burning you and you feel on top of the world.
you moan at his caress and feel heat rush through your body. if it weren’t for the lack of air in his lungs, he’d never pull away but eventually he does. lucifer experimentally probes your clit and looks up at your face to admire your expression.
“do you like that?” he whispers. you bite your lip, and your voice raises in pitch, “mhm.”
lucifer smirks to himself and kisses your nipple. “what did i say about words, little one?”
he stops his ministrations on your cunt and licks at your areola teasingly. he settles the tip of his tongue on your heated bud, flicking it, sending a shiver down your spine.
“is my good girl acting up?.”
“n-no, daddy, never.”
between each breath, he plants open-mouthed kisses across your chest.
“i hope so. i would hate to have to punish you.”
he sucks diligently and roughly. his tongue aggressively strokes your nipple, addicted to how it feels in his mouth. he closes his eyes and continues his assault on your chest.
your soft cries filled his room, and the feeling of your teat on the surface of his wet muscles pleased him. the aforementioned headache was long gone because the plushness of your body took over his mind and soul.
you may feel an indescribable urge to obey him, but he's just as much under your spell as you’re under his. he’s the embodiment of pride, but he’s not against admitting that you invade every inch of him. you don’t know it yet, but anything you ask of him, he will deliver. he wonders if you could hear his heart thrumming against his chest.
you’re naked, but he feels equally as exposed.
he continues sucking on one breast, his other hand busied itself, rubbing the neglected one. you arch into his touch, your tit spilling out of his hand. the weight of it feels secure in his large palm.
the stimulation has you unruly within his embrace. one minute, your hips are still from his flicks at your pussy, and then it jerks up, wanting more from his skilled and wandering hands.
lucifer likes this side of you, desperate and unashamed of how you wanted him to use your body.
you’re so sensitive that any subtle movement sends pressure to your clit. every time you whimper, especially loudly, he's quick to praise you.
“such lovely noises. i bet you’d do anything to please me, hm?” he hums.
you remember his earlier warning eager to be on your best behavior. “yes, daddy.”
it was hard to verbalize but you were at his mercy. anything for his approval, anything for his praise, you’d do it, especially if it meant you’d get rewarded like this.
he then pulls up your soaked panties, and you gasp at the sudden gesture. they stretch across the surface of your wet pussy, and they snap from his brute strength. the break in the fabric spanking your cunt.
“what a pretty thing.”
he tosses your ripped panties to the floor, ruining your perfect set. but he’d buy you another.
“i just want to be your good girl,” you say, rubbing your legs together in anticipation.
“you’re always my good girl. isn’t that right?”
you nod and feel happiness bloom.
“the best girl for daddy,” lucifer sensually encourages.
at this rate, you’re dizzy and drunk on his intoxicating words and erotic touch. you’re babbling, and lucifer finds it endearing.
you whine when he finally takes his gloved finger and rubs slow and tight circles on your slippery bud. “dada—.” you cry especially loud.
“i know, i know,” he shushes.
you felt relief consume you at the friction of his gloves on your trembling cunny. he continues to rub and fiddle with it until you’re forced to bury your mewls into the crook of his neck.
he takes another finger and presses down on your twitchy button, and you flinch at the sudden burst of pleasure.
he knows your body like the back of his hand, and he knows how to make you fall apart. his finger continues to work on your sensitive nub, and you gradually begin to soak his lap with your arousal.
he drags his fingers over your labia and grazes over your desperate hole.
within a few strokes, he plunges two fingers into your heat. he watches you push your tits into his face from the pleasure that forces the arch in your back. and he takes a deep inhale. your pussy greedily latches onto his fingers, and you’re practically fucking his hand.
“you look so delicious in my lap. such a beautiful sight, and it's reserved for only me.”
the depth of his voice sends shudders through your body
he loved how his fingers slid right in. it felt like your pussy was made to take what he gave you. his big fingers fervently stroke your insides, and your legs shake.
just watching your tiny hole stretch to the width of his fingers threatened his self-control. he wanted to fill you with something much bigger, and he’d know you would take it because you're his precious girl.
he wants to see your cunt wrapped around his heavy cock, but he’d settle for now.
just seeing you so pliant in his arms from his tongue lapping at your breast and his large fingers was enough for him.
you drip all over his wrist, and it darkens his gloves.
lucifer’s fingers rub every soft ridge, and your cunt is more than happy for it. the wetness, the squelch, the tightness—it’s overwhelming for you. you feel as if you’re finally unraveling.
"i'm going to cum, daddy. please." you don’t know what you're begging for, but whatever he was willing to do, you needed it now.
lucifer knows you’re close—very close. you’ve nearly gone stiff, and you’re shaking against him. your toes are curled, and your first is clutched.
“oh, is this princess’ pussy going to make a mess?” he coaxes. you open your mouth, moaning, and lucifer leans down. your foreheads are touching, and you unabashedly mewl, your minty breath fanning his face. “is she going to cream for me?”
you feel your orgasm sneaking up on you. lucifer only increases the pace of his fingers thrusting in and out of your cunny. he becomes more brutal, only wanting you to be within his arms as his only goal.
he’s so close to you that your lashes touch his skin. sweat simmers on your chest, and he sucks on your now bruised bottom lip from all your biting.
with two fingers still buried inside you, stroking your walls, he presses his thumb to your clit once more.
“that’s it, it’s pretty girl.”
you felt it coming; you had ample time, and you tried to keep yourself contained, but the force was still too unbearable. you had no idea how much he was holding back.
“i’m so much bigger than you. so much stronger, and you’re so little, princess.” he chuckles in a state of disbelief.
“and you’re not even scared.”
“you’re too trusting, but i suppose that’s why i love you so much. daddy’s brave little girl.”
like a lick of lightning, lucifer feels his desire threaten to snap. his human—his sweet mess full of little weirds, kind eyes, and a soft mouth was going to make him lose himself. he's growling like a beast with every chant of his name.
“daddydaddydaddy —hiccup— love you lots, b-but. i-i can’t think anymore. can’t take it.”
drool collects on the side of your mouth.
“i know it’s a lot for you right now, but you’re doing so well, princess.”
he re-adjusts your body on his lap. “just think about daddy and his fingers.”
the appendages stretching your cunt pull out briefly.
“look at that precious pussy.”
he spreads your labia watching the uneasy throb of your hole that begged to be stuffed.
lucifer wants to mount you, but he remembers what he is when he can smell the blood pumping through veins and the feeling of your heartbeat under the tips of his fingers.
he needs to treat you like a prized dolly to dress up, to kiss, and to fuck.
you don’t need to think; he knows what’s best, and he wants to keep you on a shelf for his own use.
you made him a beast, luring him into darkness, but he was never good at hiding. he felt like he was defiling you. you were truly an entity different from anything he’s ever known. sweet as brown sugar, and he’s tainting you.
still, the thrust of his arms grows stronger. nothing but the milky, wet sounds of your drenched cunt
“your little pussy is crying. you can let go for me.”
your hearts swell with another wave of heat. the sweet babbles of you wanting to reciprocate his love die on your tongue when your body stills. you toss your head back with a pretty wail nearing your crescendo. noisily, his fingers pump your pussy with trickles of wetness spurting out.
your hips jolt forward and erratically hump the heel of his palm, hoping to reach your end much sooner.
“m right there, —!”
he's going to make you cum hard. everything from the sound of his voice to his rough fingers to the shape of his cock could make you cream. his skill never fails you, always leaving you nearly boneless. you’re always going to come crawling back for more, without a doubt.
lucifer feels your walls pulsate around him, warning him of your impending orgasm, and it strokes his ego.
“daddyyyy,” you pant deliriously. his thumb drags at your clit repeatedly and with the sensation of your insides being drained, you sob. you’re too loud, but you can't remain silent any longer.
lucifer kisses your forehead to soothe you, and with a slight pinch of your throbbing cunt, you erupt in the middle of his embrace. the dam finally breaks, and your pussy convulses angrily like it's trying to push his fingers out.
“thaaaaat’s it, baby. daddy is so proud of you.”
he increases his pace, draining you of all the cum your cunny could pump out. until your knees buckle around his wrists.
your chest expands, desperate for more air. your head is fogging up, and you’re exhausted. your limbs are strewn across the demon, lacking complete strength.
lucifer lets you cool off from your high, and he slips his fingers out of you. without hesitation, he buries them into his mouth. the taste of you fills his taste buds to utter satisfaction. you're delicious, sweet and sour, and addicting. he would inject the very essence of you into his veins if he could. but maybe he's already hooked on you; that would explain his racing mind filled with thoughts of only you.
this demon that he’s become terrifies him, but he doesn't want to change. his family and his precious human are all he needs.
he wraps you up in his arms and hugs you. your back is now pressed into his chest, eyes closed blissfully. lucifer tucks your head under his chin, and you rest safely in his hold.
he silently admires the number he did on your body and feels the familiar feeling of pride bursts within him. he looks at your beautiful face, your puffy nipples, and used pussy and he feels gratified fulfillment engulf him.
“perfect human,” he mumbles.
he graces you with another kiss on your heated skin.
“my obedient little girl.”
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Text
I could give you 50 reasons
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pairing - lorenzo berkshire x nott!reader
summary - enzo starts recieving notes from a secret admirer and is determined to find out who's behind them
warnings - fluff, teasing, kinda insecure enzo, fem!reader
wordcount - 3k
a/n - this was kinda inspired by the song 'hey stephen' by taylor swift. this is also my final entry for the hogmarch challenge :)
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Breakfast at Hogwarts was always a bustling affair, but today, the Great Hall seemed to buzz with an energy all its own. Enzo was settled into his usual spot at the Slytherin table between his friends, his mind still reeling from the recent breakup with his last girlfriend. 
Despite the lively atmosphere around him, a sense of insecurity gnawed at him. It had been the third time he got dumped this school year. Of course, they always had good reasons too. He didn’t think he was a bad boyfriend at all, but he knew they deserved someone who was just as taken with them as they were with him. But he couldn’t help it. None of them ever had his mind spinning. None of them made him feel the same way you did. 
But you weren’t an option. He dared a small glance at you, where you were sitting next to your brother two seats down from him, swatting your sibling’s arm as he tried to steal a piece of toast from your plate.
“Stop it if you want to keep that hand,” you grumbled, fixing Theo with a pointed look as you scooted your plate away from him. “I know you can be a little stupid but you can butter your own damn toast.”
Theo just rolled his eyes and reached over the table to nick a piece of bacon from Pansy’s plate instead.
You looked beautiful even with the glare on your face and your eyes still drooping sleepily. But Enzo quickly dropped his gaze back down to his own food. You were off limits. Theo had told him so years ago. If your brother ever found out about his feelings for you he’d be a dead man. Was he destined to never find the right girl?
A small brown owl swooped down and deposited an envelope onto his plate before flitting away, distracting him from his brooding. He arched an eyebrow, surprised by the unexpected interruption. Who would be sending him mail?
With a cautious glance around the Great Hall, Enzo opened the envelope, revealing an elegant script on the small note tucked inside. The words struck him like a bolt of lightning.
‘I love you because your smile lights up even the gloomiest of days.’
Enzo's heart skipped a beat. His eyes darted around, but there were no obvious suspects among his Slytherin peers. Everyone seemed to be focused on the conversation or fighting hard to stay awake. No one was even looking in his direction.
Reading the note again, Enzo felt a mix of warmth and unease wash over him. Assuming it to be a dumb prank, he folded the note and slipped it into his pocket. His appetite had vanished, so he excused himself from the table, his friends just murmuring in acknowledgement without even looking up.
Despite knowing that one of his friends was probably behind this and it was just a joke, he couldn't help the small glimmer of hope stirring within him.
ੈ♡˳
A day had passed since Enzo received the first mysterious note, yet the enigma had stayed in his mind like a lingering charm. As he settled into his seat for Charms class, he reached for his textbook, only to find another envelope nestled among its pages. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the script adorning the note inside. This time, the words seemed to leap off the page, echoing in his mind like a haunting melody.
‘I love you because your presence alone makes even the most mundane moments feel extraordinary.’
Enzo's pulse quickened, his mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts. Who could possibly be behind these heartfelt sentiments, and why choose to remain anonymous? His eyes darted around the classroom, but no one seemed to be paying him any particular attention.
With a furrowed brow, Enzo folded the note and tucked it away, his thoughts consumed by the mystery once more. Was this really just a prank, orchestrated by one of his friends to lift his spirits after his recent breakup? Or was there something more to it?
Lost in thought, Enzo barely noticed as Professor Flitwick began the day's lesson, his mind far away, consumed by thoughts of the mysterious admirer and the possibility of finding solace in their anonymous affections.
ੈ♡˳
Pushing open the door to the Slytherin locker room, Enzo froze as he ran straight into someone. He quickly reached out to grab your shoulders, making sure you didn’t fall.
"Hey, Enzo," you greeted him casually, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes. "Have you seen Theo around? I've been looking for him everywhere."
Enzo's heart skipped a beat at the sight of you, his mind momentarily forgetting about the mysterious notes he had been thinking about as he took in your presence. You looked even more enchanting up close, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
"Uh, yeah, he's probably out on the pitch already," Enzo replied, trying to keep his composure despite the sudden flutter of nerves in his stomach. "You might catch him there."
With a nod of thanks, you flashed him another quick smile before disappearing down the corridor, leaving Enzo to ponder the encounter as he made his way to his locker.
As he opened the door, his heart skipped a beat as he spotted yet another envelope tucked inside, nestled among his Quidditch gear. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for it, his mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts.
Inside, he found another note, written in the same elegant script:
‘I love you because you're not afraid to be yourself, even when the world tries to tell you otherwise.’
Enzo's breath caught in his throat as he read the words, his mind swirling with a mixture of emotions. As he headed out onto the Quidditch pitch, his mind was filled with questions, but one thing was certain: the enigmatic notes had ignited a spark within him, one that refused to be extinguished. He had to figure out who was behind them.
ੈ♡˳
As Enzo joined his friends for dinner in the Great Hall the next day, his thoughts were still consumed by the notes that seemed to be appearing with increasing frequency. Despite his attempts to focus on the conversation around him, his mind kept drifting back to the words he had received, his hand absentmindedly touching the folded papers tucked into his robe’s pocket.
Lost in his thoughts, Enzo barely noticed as an owl swooped down and deposited yet another envelope onto his plate before flitting away. A mix of anticipation and apprehension swirled within him as he recognized the familiar handwriting.
Gingerly, he opened the envelope, revealing the latest note hidden inside:
‘I love you because you have a knack for telling the worst jokes with the best punchlines, leaving me in stitches every time.’
As the conversation at the table continued around him, Enzo couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him. With each passing day, the weight of the unanswered questions grew heavier, and he knew he couldn't keep it to himself any longer.
Summoning his courage, Enzo turned to his friends, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his stomach.
"Hey, guys," he began, drawing their attention with a pointed look. "I need to talk to you about something."
His friends exchanged curious glances, eyebrows raised in interest as they waited for him to continue.
"It's about these notes I've been getting," Enzo explained, his words carefully measured. "I've been getting one every day. Any idea who could be behind it?"
A chorus of teasing laughter erupted from the group, and Enzo felt a pang of frustration at their reaction. He had hoped they might take this concerns seriously, but it seemed they were content to dismiss it with a joke.
"Awe, how cute," Blaise said with a smirk, shaking his head in amusement. "Our Enzo has a secret admirer."
Enzo's jaw tightened, his frustration mounting as he struggled to find the right words to convey the seriousness of the situation.
"Probably that first year who tripped over her own feet because she was staring at you this morning," Mattheo laughed, pointing over to the Hufflepuff table. “She’s over there right now if you wanna go shoot your shot.”
Before Enzo had the chance to tell his friend to fuck off, you spoke up from across the table, your voice cutting through the chatter with surprising firmness.
"Hey, cut it out, guys," you said, fixing his friends with a pointed look. "Enzo's obviously concerned about this, and it's not fair to make fun of him."
Enzo felt his ears heat up at your defense, a rush of gratitude flooding through him.
“Well, don’t get your hopes up, mate,” your brother decided to include himself in the conversation, ignoring the disgusted look you sent him as he kept talking while chewing his food. “Can’t imagine what they look like if they feel the need to hide behind those notes instead of just talking to you.”
"Whoever's writing those notes is probably just nervous to come forward. They might be scared that Enzo doesn't feel the same way," you spoke up again, looking notably less confident than just a moment ago as you poked around your plate with your fork.
“Yeah,” Pansy cut in, glaring at Theo and squeezing your arm under the table. “I think it’s cute. You guys just aren’t able to identify something romantic even when it hits you in the face.”
But Enzo barely heard Pansy as his mind whirled with the implications of your words. Could it be possible that the anonymous sender was feeling just as unsure and vulnerable as he was?
As the teasing continued around him, Enzo couldn't shake the newfound determination that had taken root within him. He had to find out who was behind the mysterious notes, not just for his own sake, but for theirs as well.
ੈ♡˳
Enzo sat in his dimly lit dorm room, the silence enveloping him as he carefully laid out the notes he had received over the past weeks. Each one carried a different sentiment, each one bearing the same elegant script that had become so familiar to him.
‘I love you because you always find beauty in the smallest of things, like the way the sun sets or the sound of raindrops.’
‘I love you because you have a smile that could rival a Cheshire cat's, especially when you're up to no good.’
 ‘I love you because, despite your insistence that you're not a morning person, you somehow manage to be the most entertaining person at breakfast.’
As he sifted through the notes, his mind buzzed with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. The possibility that you could be behind them lingered at the back of his mind, fueled by your defense of him earlier. He couldn't help but feel a surge of hope at the thought.
‘I love you because you inspire me to be a better person every day.’
‘I love you because you listen with both your heart and your ears, making me feel truly heard and understood.’
‘ I love you because, simply put, you're everything I never knew I needed but now can't imagine living without.’
The more he read, the more convinced he became that you were the one behind the notes. The way the sentiments echoed moments they had shared, the way they seemed to capture the essence of your connection—it all seemed too perfect to be mere coincidence.
A surge of warmth flooded through Enzo as he entertained the idea that you could be the one who had been reaching out to him all along. It felt right, somehow, as if everything he had been searching for had been right in front of him all this time.
His fingers traced over the words of each note, lingering on the one that had struck a chord within him:
‘I love you because you make me feel like I'm home, no matter where I am.’
The words echoed in his mind, stirring up memories of your first year at Hogwarts, back when he was in his second year. You had confided in him about feeling overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of it all. He remembered how he had stayed up with you, offering words of reassurance and companionship until you felt more at ease. You had said it felt more like home with him there.
As Enzo reflected on that memory, a realization began to dawn on him. The sentiment expressed in the note mirrored the connection he had felt with you from the very beginning. You had always been a source of comfort and familiarity to him, just as he had been to you.
A flicker of excitement coursed through him. But alongside that excitement, a wave of uncertainty washed over him. What if he was reading too much into it? What if his feelings were leading him astray, clouding his judgment? Also, if it was really you, how would Theo react? He decided that your brother would be a problem to deal with at another time.
Despite his doubts, Enzo couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to explore this further. With a newfound resolve, he reached for a quill and a piece of parchment, his hand trembling slightly with nervous anticipation.
Carefully, he composed a response, his words a reflection of the emotions swirling within him. He poured his heart out onto the page, expressing his gratitude for the notes and his longing to discover the identity of the sender. He finished his letter off with a question: ‘Meet me on the astronomy tower?’
And then, with a steady hand, he folded the parchment and sealed it with wax before tucking it away in his pocket. With a determined look on his face, he made his way to the owlery to send it your way.
ੈ♡˳
As Enzo arrived at the astronomy tower, his heart raced with anticipation. He couldn't shake the nerves that coursed through him as he waited for you, his mind consumed by thoughts of what might come next. Would you show up? Would you admit to being the one behind the notes? The uncertainty gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside, focusing instead on the hope that blossomed within him.
When he heard the soft footsteps approaching, Enzo's heart skipped a beat. He turned to see you standing there, the moonlight casting a soft glow around you, illuminating your features in a way that took his breath away. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air.
Then, with a shy smile, you stepped forward, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of nervousness and determination. "Enzo," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I…you were right. I guess I wasn’t as sneaky as I thought I was being, hm?"
Enzo's heart pounded in his chest as he waited for you to continue, his gaze fixed on yours with unwavering intensity. He could feel the tension building between you, a silent understanding passing between you as you stood there in the quiet of the night.
Finally, you took a deep breath, gathering your courage as you met his gaze head-on. "I... I've been the one sending you the notes," you admitted, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I couldn't keep it a secret any longer. I just had to let you know, even if you didn’t know it was coming from me. I... I love you, Enzo. I have for a while."
Enzo felt his breath catch in his throat at your confession, his heart soaring with a joy he had never known. Without hesitation, he closed the distance between you, his hands reaching out to cup your face as he leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss.
As your lips met, time seemed to stand stil. In that moment, everything else faded away—the doubts, the uncertainties, the fears—all of it washed away by the overwhelming tide of emotion that surged between you. It was as if the entire universe had aligned to bring you together in that moment, your hearts beating in perfect harmony as he gently cupped your face in his hand.
The kiss was soft yet electrifying, igniting a fire within that burned brighter with each passing second. Enzo's touch was gentle yet possessive, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek as he deepened the kiss, pouring all of his love and longing into his touch.
For you, it felt like coming home. In Enzo's arms, you felt safe, cherished, and utterly loved. It was a feeling unlike any other, a sensation that filled you with a sense of completeness that you had never known before.
As you finally pulled away, your breaths mingling in the crisp night air, Enzo's eyes met yours with an intensity that took your breath away. There was a depth to his gaze, a silent promise.
"I love you," Enzo whispered, his voice soft yet filled with an undeniable sincerity. "I love you more than words can express."
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you gazed back at him, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion that swelled within your heart. "I love you too," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "More than anything."
His other hand found the small of your waist, pulling you closer against him as he rested his chin on the top of your head. You felt the small laugh escaping his mouth, his chest vibrating against  your forehead as you leaned against him. “Theo is going to kill me, isn’t he?”
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heizouz · 8 months
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begging for sub lyney + praise kink i'd do Anything
nsfw sub!lyney + gn!reader, praise, lots of praise, dumb lyney
this isn't my favourite piece but lyney is all i can think about recently so i just had to get this out as fast as possible. thank u SM for this req bc it's just made me think abt how much of a praise kink he'd have lorddd... n e way i hope this is okay!!.. <33
"you did so good today."
lyney thinks he will burst if one more compliment falls from your lips. you're close—too close. your hands are all over him, teasing the buttons of his shirt, tugging at his belt loops, tracing along the lines of his jaw. he's so flustered, worked up, adrenaline still flooding through his body from his previous performance.
his hat and shoulder cape have been discarded on the makeup desk behind him, your eagerness not giving him any time to take a breath as you'd hurried him into his dressing room and painted his face with needy kisses. lyney had laughed, pushing you away to cheekily ask if you'd enjoyed the performance that much; his cockiness soon fading once the praises started tumbling out between desperate kisses against his skin.
your thigh is between lyney's parted legs, his back against the makeup desk; hands fisting the material of your shirt at your shoulders as he grinds against your thigh. he's whimpering, soft and embarrassed—a complete switch to his usual confident on stage persona and you can't help but feel the wave of pride at the way lyney can't seem to look up, fixated on the way he moves so obediently for you.
"look at you." you sigh, head tilting as you watch him fall apart against your leg. your eyes are soft but dark, taking in the desperate cant of his hips and pretty gasps with every movement.
you're not even doing anything. lyney does all the work—working himself along your thigh, fingers curling into your shirt, eyebrows furrowed with concentration to make himself finish.
he'd been so stressed for his performance, so it'd been your plan all along to let it be known how well he did. the relief of finally getting his act done was clear as lyney was so accepting to relieve himself, to let you reward him for such a good show.
"just like that," you whisper. your hand tilts his head to finally look up at you, his eyes glassy and needy, "my pretty lyney."
lyney flushes at the praise, breath hitching, "st-stop, please." though his thrusts never seem to slow, hips only stuttering a little.
you take note of that, eyebrows raising when you flicker your gaze to his desperate grinding, "you want to stop?" you press your thigh harder against him, leaning impossibly closer across body, "but you're doing such a good job for me, darling."
"mh-hah-" lyney whines, loud, at the feeling of your thigh pressing hard against his cock straining against his shorts. he doesn't seem to realise how pitchy he's getting, brain fuzzy and too focused on you and your close body and the praises and his need to show you how even better he can be.
lyney can't think when you press your hand over his mouth to stifle his increasing moans. your chest presses against his and although he never seizes to slow the movement of his hips, your close proximity and the weight of your body pressing him hard against the makeup desk forces his eyes to roll back at the friction of your thigh against his cock. he can feel himself dripping against the material of his shorts, so incredibly close to breaking from just the press of your thigh alone. the thought would've flooded him with embarrassment if he could think properly.
you force him to keep eye contact, his eyes lidded and glossed over, the only thing separating you being your hand covering his mouth. your eyebrows furrow a little at the halt of his hips, "hm? don't stop, dove. you're being so perfect for me."
he feels so hot, his throat is closed up, unable to form a coherent word except the muffled whimpers and whines. his brain is muddled, the previous anxiety of a bad performance completely erased because now he's being good for you, he's so perfect, he's doing such a good job.
and to top it off, you lean in close when he starts to rock his hips at your command, whispering the words, "good boy." and lyney could cry.
lyney's eyes threaten to close, eyebrows scrunched and pretty breathy whimpers bleed past your hand over his mouth at the words, hips stuttering against your leg. purple irises gloss over with tears of pleasure, everything all too much and all you can do is smirk a little at how fucked out the usual suave and charming magician is.
"'m gonna-" lyney mumbles behind your hand, breath quickening and he pleads with his eyes, words stopping halfway to moan noisily.
"ah-ah!" you rip away his chance suddenly, hand dropping from his mouth and you back up slightly so you're no longer situated between his legs. lyney whines, bucking into the air at the loss of friction, eyes pooling with tears.
"n-no, please, please." lyney's desperate, voice broken and whiny.
"not yet, dove. 'need to get these off." you play with the belt loops of his shorts, tugging him a little closer. you smile wolfishly, going to pull the material down, "i need to reward you properly."
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mothhball · 1 month
Text
five-finger discount
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Pairing | Neil Lewis x Reader
Warnings | 18+ SMUT, DUB-CON, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blackmail, sex on camera, brief edging, creampie, cheating, cursing, Moth pretends to know anything about movies
Summary | You’ve been trying to make easy money, but you’re not as subtle as you thought. Some lessons need to be learned the hard way.
Words | 4.4k
Notes | FINALLY DONE. and vaguely inspired by 70s porn haha
MINORS DNI
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INT. GUMSHOE VIDEO – THRILLER AISLE – DAY
“No, it's not. That's not what she said. Someone is in trouble. Something bad is happening!” squawks a woman from the running TV in the background while your fingers trace over the backs of the VHS as you walk past the shelves.
1 PM on a Wednesday certainly is no rush hour at Gumshoe Video. Even the most annoying film bros don't come here at this time of day to flaunt their knowledge of the craft and subsequent absence of social skills. You're in the clear, pretending to deeply think about your choice in entertainment for the end of the day, even though that couldn't be further from the truth. Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you spot the business owner, entranced by the film that he put on to pass the time, and you can see his plush lips silently mouthing along to the dialog. Cute. And easy to trick.
It's not your first time here. No, you made sure to become familiar with the place over the course of months now, learning where each genre and title has been sorted into its rightful place.
Certain old VHS-tapes can sell for a small fortune online, and for every tape you rent, you take one for free with the plan of selling it to the highest bidder. Currently, you have a stack at home, waiting for you to finally stop procrastinating and open up that damn eBay account.
Your pinky catches on a specific tape. 'A History of Violence', currently estimated to lure an additional 199 bucks into your greedy bank account. Quietly, you pull out the film, leaving a gaping hole in the neatly sorted row as you slip it into your purse.
With nimble hands, you try to rearrange the tapes to make the missing VHS a little less obvious, but in your haste, a few of them escape your clammy grasp and clutter to the ground. A head of silky brunette hair whips around, and you're met with pretty blue eyes as the store owner turns to face you.
You let out a giggle, trying to sound as vapid and innocuous as possible. You’re in character now. The persona you chose? An unassuming, ditzy little thing that’s hot enough to distract him, but stupid enough as to not get suspected of any wrong-doings. You’d say you’re a good actress. A fantastic one, even.
"Sorry," you purr, batting your eyelashes at him. "I'm a little clumsy today." You're already bending over to pick up the tapes when he makes his way over to lend a helping hand, and you make sure to show off your cleavage in an intentionally accidental way. You know he’s into you. You’ve been seeing the heat in his gaze for weeks now, along with the occasional crack in his voice and an almost endearing desire to impress you. It’s his biggest weakness and the reason your plan has been working flawlessly until now.
"Hey, hey, no worries. Uh, gravity wins sometimes. Don't sweat it," he grins at you, brushing his fingers against yours as the two of you work together to put everything back into place.
"What exactly were you looking for anyway?" he suddenly asks, breaking your focus for a second.
"Uh, Moonstruck," you mutter, completely on autopilot. The store owner nods, pursing his lips as he mulls over your answer. You’re aware of your blunder before he even answers.
"Moonstruck? Then you're in the wrong section. You know, with how often you come here, I thought you got the hang of our layout by now." Fuck, he’s got you. Play dumb. Play dumb!
Your poker face almost cracks, but you keep your composure. Or at least you try to. "Huh? Oh - I... right. God, I'm just all over the place today." You giggle again, relieved by the way his grin seems to soften. Hook, line and sinker. He may think he’s detective Sam Spade from ‘The Maltese Falcon’, but you’re Brigid O’Shaughnessy. Or he’s Batman and you’re Catwoman. Or – well, it doesn’t matter. Baseline is, you’re snatching tapes right from underneath his nose while he’s too busy fantasizing about what’s underneath your clothes.
The store owner speaks up again, lazily rubbing the back of his neck as he leans against the shelf, and his free hand wanders and gestures around a bit as if he’s trying to figure out which pose would look the coolest and most effortless.
“Right. Actually, that wasn’t really fair of me.” You tilt your head at him, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly which prompts him to elaborate. “Some of our tapes went missing. Y’know, some of the oldies and goldies? That’s why I didn’t stock Moonstruck this week.”
Your lips part in surprise, but all you can reply with is a soft ‘oh’. The store owner shrugs, leaning in towards you. There’s something conspiratory about his expression which makes your stomach churn a little. “Yeah. But I do still have it. It’s just in my office.”
There’s a beat of silence as you mull over the unspoken offer. Your plan is built on the one tape you always rent for cheap. No one would think you’re stealing if you’re actually paying for something, right? Despite this, you wonder if you should call it a day and head home with the stolen film hidden in your purse. Alibi be damned.
“I… That’s great. Uh, actually, I was just about to –“ he cuts you off with a casual wave of his hand, and the grin on his face widens once more.
“Don’t worry. I’ll even give you a discount. Just follow me.”
INT. GUMSHOE VIDEO – NEIL LEWIS’ PRIVATE OFFICE – DAY
The private office of Neil Lewis, cinephile and pop culture enthusiast, is decorated with a distinct Film Noir charm, lovingly empathized by leather chairs and a checkered floor. Not to mention the letters on the door. He calls himself a private investigator. A joking title that makes you palms sweat ever so slightly. You notice that he set up a small camera on his desk, but he brushes it off as a regular procedure.
"So... Moonstruck,” he starts, gesturing for you to take a seat. Which you do. “Great pick. Just curious - Why did you go for that one?" The question makes you pause for a second.
"The... the cover spoke to me,” you casually lie, trying to sound somewhat cute, but it doesn’t land. Neil’s expression quickly betrays his skepticism, and his lips part while his narrowed gaze wanders around the room for a minute. "Hm. And what about the other one?"
"What do you mean?" Play dumb, play dumb, play – but he’s not letting you off the hook so easily.
"The other tape."
Silence fills the office, and you swear the VHS in your purse is starting to burn a hole right where it’s settled in your lap.
"Which... other tape? I just picked out this one."
"Ohhh, right. Sorry. My bad. Just… Moonstruck." The way he’s saying this makes it seem like he enjoys the taste of the letters on his tongue. You nod, a little too eager to get this conversation over and done with.
"So you won’t mind me looking through your purse?" Neil leans forward in his seat, folding his hands on top of his desk. Your eyes briefly fall onto the little desk name plate that’s undoubtedly just made out of shiny, golden plastic. But it does the job. It intimidates you. At least to a certain degree.
“No,” you lie through your teeth, trying to shrug off the tension. “I… it’s certainly no problem, Mr. Lewis. None at all.”
Neil lets out an apathetic sigh as he rises from his seat, causing the leather to squeak. His steps seem a little too confident for a video rental owner as he moves around the desk to first walk over to the door and lock it. “Neil is fine. I’m not a big fan of… formalities,” he starts, coming up behind you to set his hands on your shoulders. His hands are gentle but firm, causing your body to warm right down to the deepest layers. To make his control over the situation even more apparent, he splays his hands, tracing your collarbone with his middle finger. It’s subtle enough that he could pass it off as a figment of your imagination if you should choose to speak up. But you don’t. You stay quiet, even as he leans down and you can hear the murmur of his voice right next to your ear.
“Open your purse.”
You bite your tongue, slowly opening your purse to find Cher’s face grinning back at you. It’s Moonstruck. In all of its romantic glory, and it makes both you and Neil freeze for a moment. You lick your dry lips, saying the first thing that comes to mind.
"That's mine."
"Yours?" You wouldn’t know, but his eyebrow twitches upward at your ridiculous claim.
"Yeah. A... personal copy." Great, now you’re doubling down.
"With my name on it?" Silence, yet again. You could basically hear the dramatic music that the producers of any reality TV shows use in the background of any tense scene. But this isn’t scripted. No, all of this is improvised.
"... what are the odds?" you croak, feeling how your throat goes dry in real time. Neil scoffs in reply, shaking his head, and his grip on your shoulders tightens a tad before he lets go entirely. His expression is stern as he steps in front of you, leaning against the desk and crossing his shapely arms over his chest. For a moment, he’s silent, letting his eyes wander all over your form in a slow, appreciative way that makes your palms get sweaty. “You do know I have to call the police, don’t you?”
“What?” Your breath hitches in your lungs, and you blink a few times, almost in an attempt to shake yourself out of this very strange dream. “This… this is just one tape. Isn’t this kind of excessive?”
“Yeah, maybe it’s one tape today. But you’ve been coming here for weeks.” Your jaw drops, but you can’t seem to come up with an appropriate response. You’ve been had. For the past months, you were convinced that he only saw you as a little piece of eye candy wandering through the store, but he’s been seeing right through you all along. Now you definitely don’t feel like Catwoman anymore. When he notices that you’re not going to say anything, Neil continues.
“Did you really think we don’t have security cameras all over the place? Well, I’ve been watching you the entire time, playing along when you pretended to be all ditzy and cute. It’s not just one instance. It’s a whole case, baby. And you’ll go to jail.” That makes you break out of your stupor, and you can feel your pulse speeding up.
“No- wait, no, no, no. Please, can’t we just talk about this for one second?”
“I don’t bargain with thieves.” He’s smug. Too smug for your liking, considering that he’s threatening you with the loss of your precious, precious freedom.
“Please, I’ll do anything,” you plead, fixing him with the biggest puppy dog eyes you can muster in an attempt to appeal to the soft, awkward side of him. And he cracks. At least the tiniest bit.
“Maybe… maybe we can work something out. But I’ll need to search you first. Who knows what else you’re hiding.” He gestures for you to stand, and you get up from your seat, causing the leather cushioning to faintly squeak once again. “Spread your arms. To the side.”
Your expression settles into a pout, but you do as you’re told, much to Neil’s satisfaction. He returns to his previous position behind you and starts by touching your shoulders, slowly trailing his hands down your arms. His fingers leave tingles behind on your skin, and you’re even more aware of how close he’s gotten when you feel his breath on the back of your neck. His cheeky hands continue to wander, making their way down your sides, softly squeezing around your waist before he moves on to your hips. You try to think about it as a TSA search, but it’s a little hard to do when his hands linger for much longer than necessary on your thighs and your calves as he crouches down. Once he’s satisfied, he straightens back up, and you almost think he’s done before he leans in to rasp into your ear.
“You’re gonna have to take your clothes off… so I can search you more thoroughly.”
Your heart skips a beat, and you’re about to protest, but he’s already pulling your top off, tossing it aside before he moves on to your shorts. A sigh escapes him as he pulls them down along with your panties, and he doesn’t give you even a second to recover before he’s gripping and caressing the curves of your body. Leaning his chin on your shoulder, he runs his fingers over your hips, feeling how your skin warms beneath his touch. “Take your bra off.”
“What? There’s no way I could be hiding a tape in there –“ In response, Neil lightly pinches your thigh, causing you to jump a little and let out a soft whine. Seems like there’s no way around it. With shaky hands, you reach behind yourself to unclasp your bra, and Neil leans back ever so slightly to give you the space to move. That is, until your tits are exposed, and his body is glued against yours once more. The feeling of his hardening cock pressing up against your ass sends heat into your core, and you instinctively clench your thighs together. Of course, this catches his attention.
“Ah, so you are hiding something.”
He wraps his arms around you, steering the two of you over to the mirror he hung on the wall next to his ridiculous little costume rack. You watch your own flushed expression as his hand slips between your legs to let his fingers trace over your already wet folds. With a groan, you try to avert your eyes before he corrects you with a rough grope of your breast.
“No. Eyes on yourself. I want you to see the guilt on your face while I search you.”
Reluctantly, your eyes return to the mirror, just in time for him to plunge a finger into your velvety pussy. Your lips part, and as much as you’d like to keep quiet, your resolve crumbles immediately when he finds that sweet spot inside of you. Within minutes, the office fills up with the sounds of your pleasure and the obscene squelching of his fingers in your wet cunt. And he’s thorough in his search, quickly working you up from one finger to three, making your toes curl against the checkered floor. For a moment, he drives you up to that delightful edge, only to pull his fingers out of you at the last second.
You don’t have the capacity to complain when he lifts his hand towards the light, showing off his glistening digits. Both of you are entranced by the sight, and Neil lets out a soft wheeze before he licks his fingers clean.
“Yeah, I made up my mind. Get over to the desk and bend over.”
“I have a boyfriend,” you whine, turning your head to give him your biggest puppy dog eyes.
“Well, you should’ve thought about it before you stole from me. Losing those rare tapes was a financial disaster for me. I’m risking this store. And I’m not gonna do it without something in return.” He finishes his sentence with a light smack to your ass which only manages to get you even more riled up. It’s hard to disagree with him when he knows just how to get you going.
Neil drags you back over to the desk, angling the camera in just the right way before he hurriedly tears his clothes off completely. The sight of his urgency makes your chest fill with butterflies, but you still need to protest. You have to!
“I don’t usually do this… what if my boyfriend finds out?”
“That’s one more reason to behave. You wouldn’t want him to see this little clip, right?” he asks, although the question is entirely rhetorical. You’d love to feel guilty, but you can’t bring yourself to it.
 His hands run from your shoulders down to your hips, kneading your flesh with the attentiveness of a potter crafting a masterpiece, and he leans over you to place open-mouthed kisses down your spine. You shiver, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle the noises that are threatening to escape your mouth. With a quick movement, Neil reaches under your knee to guide your leg on top of the desk, and you let out a soft sigh when you can feel your arousal rolling down the inside of your thigh as he spreads you open with two fingers.
“You know… nice girls wouldn’t get this wet in situations like these. Then again, you’re a filthy thief, so you’re the furthest thing from a good girl.”
Neil wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest so he can latch back onto the side of your neck, sucking and biting while he uses his other hand to guide the tip of his cock against your drooling entrance. His naked skin against yours fills your head with need, and you press up against him a little more to feel him more closely as he slowly pushes inside your velvety cunt. Both of you let out a hiss, and Neil follows it up with a needy whimper as he stills for a moment.
“Fuck… oh fuck,” he breathes, causing your lips to twitch up in subtle amusement. Neil’s hand shakes as he adjusts the camera, making sure to get everything in frame, and in this moment, you clench around him on purpose, causing him to moan right into your ear. “Jesus Christ, don’t do that –”
The slap to your ass is meant to punish you, but it’s doing the exact opposite, and you let him know this by moaning his name. His lips return to your pulse as he pushes his cock deeper into you, stretching you so perfectly that it sends goosebumps over your skin. Or maybe it’s because of his warm breath on your ear. Or his hands diligently kneading your tits. The cocktail of heated touches and sensations is literally making you feel drunk.
“Your cock feels so good,” you whine, causing him to suck in a sharp breath at the praise.
“Yeah?” he chuckles, bottoming out inside of you before he starts to set a slow, sensual rhythm. “You’re such a depraved little slut… getting off on your punishment. If only your boyfriend knew.”
Neil rolls his hips against yours, drawing a moan from both of you that would fit perfectly on the set of a porno. Maybe you’re hamming it up a little to feed his ego. But that isn’t very hard to do when he fills you up so deliciously, making you wetter with every thrust.
You’re already starting to feel breathless when he slowly speeds up, drilling into your dripping pussy with even more fervor. Words are starting to become a little difficult, but you try your best anyway. “You’re better than him. SO much better –“
Your reward is a second smack – aimed at your chest this time.
“You’re damn right I am,” he groans, sucking another hickey into your skin and adding to the little necklace of bruises he’s been placing around your neck. “Suck these for me, will you?”
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but it doesn’t last long when he brings his fingers up to your mouth, and you eagerly latch onto his digits, still faintly tasting yourself from earlier. You suck them down to the knuckle, running your tongue in between them in a way that makes him groan and pound your cunt even harder. Once his fingers are sufficiently coated in your saliva, he pulls them free from your lips and reaches between your legs to rub your clit.
The one leg you’ve been standing on threatens to give out immediately, but he holds you up with his other arm, and gently guides your hands into place to better support yourself on the desk. Neil nuzzles his face into your hair, breathing heavily against the shell of your ear.
“If you promise not to steal ever again, I might let you cum on my cock.”
His words are intercepted by quiet grunts and whimpers, and you find yourself agreeing pretty quickly, blabbering out promise after promise.
“I’ll never – never steal again! I swear, I swear, I swear, please! Please, please let me cum –!”
You’re almost not recognizing your own voice due to the desperately needy tone that’s laced through your pleading, but Neil doesn’t mind. Quite the opposite, really, because you can feel his thrusts picking up in intensity. He rewards your obedience by rubbing your clit a little faster, and you have to bite your knuckle as to not cry out his name. Fuck, it’s only noon and you’re approaching your release at breakneck speed.
“Fuck… I – I’m close,” you breathe, turning your head to look at him from over your shoulder. His teeth are back in your neck as he kisses and bites at your skin, and his voice sounds strained as he answers you.
“Go ahead… let go for me. If only your boyfriend knew, hm?”
That’s it. Your orgasm rips through you, and you let out a whine as you claw at the surface beneath you. Neil is generous enough to let you ride out your climax, but you can tell how impatient he is when he suddenly pulls out, swallowing heavily.
 “On your back.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. It’s a little awkward, but you manage to scramble and reposition yourself, lying back against the desk and looking up at him with flushed cheeks and tousled hair. Neil is in the same state, licking his lips and swallowing dryly as he guides his cock back into your cunt, aided by his thumb on the base of his length.
“Fuck… how can you still be this tight? Shit, FUCK…” He’s cursing and muttering under his breath, having half a brain to readjust the still rolling camera as to not miss a single second. His hands guide your legs around his waist, and he leans over you, staring at you through blown out pupils that clash against the vibrant intensity of his ocean gaze. His pretty face is red, and sweat beads on his forehead, causing his hair to stick to his skin. Without thinking, you reach up to push it back, causing both of you to still for a second before Neil finds his tone again.
“M’gonna fill you up… and send you back home to your boyfriend with a creampie in that pretty cunt. Alright? Alright.”
You can only nod in response, hearing your own racing heartbeat in your ears along with his continued grunts and moans. His hands on you are gentle, but his thrusts definitely aren’t as he pounds you against the desk. Neil’s hips smack against yours, causing every novelty item around the two of you to tremble along to your feverish rhythm. You tilt your head back but he goes after you, finally capturing your lips in a hungry kiss that he’s been trying to hold back from the entire time. But now that he’s rapidly approaching his own climax, the self-restraint is completely out of the window.
Your tongues clash, and you moan into his mouth when his hands find yours, linking your fingers together. Neil’s lips faintly taste of iced coffee as he licks against your tongue, and your grip on his hands tightens when his movements start to become erratic.
Your lips stay locked the entire time, even as he lets out a guttural groan when he finishes inside of you, thrusting into you a few more times to push it in as deep as possible. Finally, he stills and pulls away from you, unable to resist stealing one last peck from your swollen lips. You’re still breathing heavily as his hands roam over your body once more, relishing the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips. Now that he has material on you and you promised not to steal again, he’s gentle. Almost too gentle, and you have to clear your throat to snap him out of it.
Neil catches himself, blinking down at you with soft eyes while he wipes some sweat off his brow. There’s a subtle twitch in his lips that tells you that he’d love to keep touching you, but he’s aware of the setting you’re in. Almost reluctantly, he pulls out of you to let you retrieve your clothes. While you’re getting dressed, he checks the camera and stops the recording before he speaks up.
“You’re free to go, then. You know what happens if I catch you stealing again, right?”
The question prompts you to nod in response, and you mumble out a “yes” as you pull your top back over your head. Once Neil confiscates the VHS from your purse, you’re free to exit the store on trembling legs, cringing a little at the feeling of your combined fluids leaking into your underwear. But God, this heist was worth it.
INT. YOUR PLACE – LIVING ROOM – DAY
As expected, the house is quiet when you get home, and you let out a deep, satisfied sigh as you throw yourself onto the couch to decompress for a moment.
Not even 20 minutes pass until the front door opens, and you hear familiar footsteps. A lazy smile spreads over your face, and you sit up, watching you boyfriend as he kicks off his shoes and throws his jacket over the coat rack on the wall. He makes his way over, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, and your vision is filled by ocean eyes and faint freckles. Neil chuckles softly, placing the camera onto the coffee table before he sinks down on the couch next to you and pulls you close. “I’m glad Lucien agreed to take over the rest of the day.” You hum in agreement, closing your eyes when he brushes his fingers through your hair to massage your scalp.
“I think that was our best one yet.”
FIN.
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tags: @ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24 @detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls (couldn't tag) @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411 @ashdrinksoatmilk @luvizuku @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines
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