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vivid-ink · 7 months

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'The Love Shack' Part V - The Fault Is Ours

Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22) Warnings: Adult content 18+ MDNI

Part V Summary: You'd prepared for Neteyam's upset, prepared for his anger, but what you hadn't prepared for or even anticipated was his complete and total disregard for you... Word count: 13.7k

Series content: Mentions of group sex, MMF threesome, smut, sex toy play, squirting, anal sex, kuru play

Read Part I, II, III and IV in my Masterlist HERE

Author's Note: My darling lovelies, I present to you the finale Chapter 5 of this series. 🥰 I never thought I'd write anything else after 'Violet Eyes', but lo and behold, here I am at the end of my fifth series. And it's honestly all thanks to you wonderful folk in this community who have supported me & brought me so much enjoyment. Without further do, enjoy this finale!

***~~~***

“I could ask you the same thing! What the fuck are you playing at?”

Lo’ak’s words rang in your ears and looped over and over in your stunned mind. Shaken and upset by Neteyam’s abrupt exit, your words had forsaken you and you’d been unable to offer immediate any answer to Lo’ak’s question apart from meekly muttered apologies.

It had very quickly dawned on you that whilst Lo’ak appeared as confused as you were, he and you were not at all confused about the same thing. You were reeling at his brother’s upset, whereas he appeared to be upset with you and confused by your actions.

You were alone in the play area currently. Lo’ak had gone into the shack’s main area to find some space and presumably warm some water for clean-up. You’d always had one of the brothers, usually Neteyam, to burrow against and snuggle up to while the other prepped the necessary things for clean-up and aftercare. The solitude tonight was new and it was unpleasant.

With Neteyam’s heated departure and Lo’ak’s apparent irritation, you felt cold, confused and abandoned.

Fat teardrops squeezed from between your lashes where you sat on folded legs on the bed, hunched over and hugging yourself. Your kept your snuffles as quiet as possible. You always felt vulnerable and frazzled after a session with the brothers. Once the extreme highs of sex and pleasure play had diminished, you were often thrown into a hormonal slump that left you feeling exposed and in need of comfort. There was no comfort today.

Neteyam had stormed off and now Lo’ak was angry with you too… You’d just wanted a parting kiss from each of them…

Your arms were crossed over your front and your fingernails dug into the flesh of your upper arms as you cried. The entire space still smelled of the activities you had engaged in with the brothers, and the scent was suddenly suffocating.

Eywa, tonight’s session had ended in disorientation and disaster… You should’ve listened to your mind’s cautioning earlier… You should’ve just said your piece and left…

Deciding it was probably best for you to leave, you crawled to the edge of the bed and stood on wobbly legs. Finding your chest covering on the floor, you secured it again over your breasts, fingers fumbling clumsily with the ties. Eyes still blurry from your tears, you swiped a hand over your face and continued to look for your loincloth.

Lo’ak re-entered the space with some cloths and a bowl of warm water. He took in your trembling and tearful state as you attempted to dress yourself again, and he sighed, “Hey, where are you going? Stop.”

“I think I should go. “You mumbled. You refused to meet his eyes, keeping your head downturned with your chin tucked against your chest, “I didn’t mean to upset you both.”

Setting down the things he was carrying, Lo’ak stopped you trying to pull your loincloth up your legs, “No, lie back down. We still need to get you cleaned up. I’m not letting you leave like this. Eywa, look at you.”

The sticky mess between your legs was trickling down your thighs. Your skin was damp with sweat and your nose was running from your tears. When you ignored his words and twisted out of his gentle hold, the remainder of Lo’ak’s patience snapped. With a growl, he took hold of you by your waist and hauled you back onto the soft bedding despite your rueful cries to leave you be.

Lo’ak watched as you curled onto your side, sobbing into your hands. He was still annoyed at what you’d done earlier, but he also recognised the emotional mess you were in after their play session. It was also obvious to him that you didn’t understand what had caused Neteyam’s upset. With another bone-weary sigh, he wet several small cloths in the bowl he’d brought in and wrung them dry.

“Shh, sweet thing. Come on, let me clean you up.” Lo’ak coaxed, gentling his voice.

He crawled onto the bedding next to you and tenderly parted your knees to sweep the cloth up your thighs and between them. Taking the other warm cloth, he folded it and placed it over your core, knowing the warmth of it would soothe the temporary swelling from their session. He wiped you down with a third cloth, the moist warmth of it smoothing over your belly, back and upper arms. He gently pried your hands from your face and he cleaned them too before dabbing at your face last.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was an unhappy squeak.

Putting the cleaning cloths aside, Lo’ak tucked himself behind your curled form, spooning you. He tucked an arm around your waist and pulled you to him, “Do you even know what you’re apologising for?”

“For upsetting you both.”

“Do you know why Neteyam took off and why I’m upset too?”

You considered his question. Great Mother, Neteyam had been furious… Things were strained enough already between the two of you and now it felt like things had broken down even further. And you’d simply kissed Lo’ak… You didn’t understand his recoil either…

You shook your head, fighting back another swelling bout of emotion, “No.”

Lo’ak cursed softly. He kept his arm around you though, wanting to soothe you still despite his frustration with you, with his brother, with the whole situation. He began measuredly, “I’m going to say my piece and I’m only going to say it once, because this whole thing, this we-don’t-talk-about-feelings shit, that you and Neteyam have going on is getting ridiculous.”

You sniffed softly, pawing at your eyes again when more unwanted tears poured forth, “Feelings can’t come into this. This arrangement was physical only.”

“Does that change the fact that they exist?” Lo’ak asked. Knowing you wouldn’t see as you were facing away from him, he gave an emphatic roll of his eyes, “Look, I know you have feelings for my brother, and I don’t think I’m speaking out of turn here because I feel like you know this already, but Neteyam returns those feelings.”

You shifted, rolling onto your back so you could scowl at him, “Where are you going with this? What does it matter?”

Lo’ak propped his head up on his elbow, responding with a glower of his own, “It matters because the bond that you share is sincere! There’s meaning there. What you and I share? That’s purely physical; just sex and body play. If you kiss me it’s because you enjoy the sensation, but there’s no meaning there.”

“So that’s why you’re angry? Because I kissed you and it doesn’t mean anything?”

An exasperated hiss left Lo’ak, his irritation rising again, “No! I’m upset because Neteyam is upset! You upset my brother, you upset me. That’s how this works.”

You could match his rising temper, however. Sick of the confusion you felt and just wanting Lo’ak to speak plainly, you spat, “So why is Neteyam upset? Things were going fine and then he decided to throw a tantrum!”

“Because you kissed me!” Lo’ak howled, frustrated by how something so simple in his eyes was so oblivious to you. Fine, he’d spell it out for you, “You said no kissing. That was the boundary that you set. You’ve denied my brother’s attempts to cross that line for weeks now. You denied him again tonight even when he asked to kiss you, and then you suddenly decide after it all to kiss me?!”

Realisation flooded you at how your actions had appeared and you were quick to refute the misunderstanding, “No! It’s not what it looks like! I wanted to kiss both of you one last time. You just happened to be closest. I was facing you so I kissed you first! But I would’ve kissed Neteyam next!”

Lo’ak emitted a miserable groan and flopped onto his back, pressing the fingers of one hand into his eyes, “Fuck, you should’ve kissed my brother first.”

You groaned and your hands flew to your face again in distress, “Great Mother, what a mess. Tell him for me when you see him? Tell him I wasn’t doing it intentionally to spite him?”

Peering through your fingers, you saw Lo’ak fix you with an incredulous expression, “I won’t be telling him anything. You’re going to explain yourself to him and the both of you are going to talk. Properly. Honestly.”

“I’ll apologise and explain what happened, but there’s nothing else to talk about.”

With a scathing laugh, Lo’ak rounded on you again, “You know that’s such bullshit, Neyomi. I know you’re in love with him.”

It was the truth. You knew it within yourself, had known it for so long now, but to hear it called out so openly by Lo’ak was a shock to your psyche. It felt like his utterance of the words had willed it into a truth so solid that no matter how much you wanted to deny it to salvage what was left of your heart, you couldn’t.

“He told me what happened that night at the hot spring, about how you denied his affection and pushed him away after. That really cut him deep.” Lo’ak added, and his tone was woeful.

Bitterly, you moved to sit upright so you could look at Lo’ak square in the eyes. You glared at him, cursing the tears that pooled in your eyes and threatened the spill, “So, what? You want me to tell Neteyam how I feel. Apologise for pushing him away, pour out my soul, and break my heart over a man I can never have?”

Understanding washed over Lo’ak at your words. There it was. The reason that had prompted your sudden change in behaviour over the last couple of moons. He’d known it wasn’t because you’d had a change of heart. You were only trying to protect yourself. Lo’ak thought of his brother’s stubbornness then, of Kiri, and their grandmother’s approval of the proposed arrangement. He chuckled.

You frowned at Lo’ak’s quiet laughter, feeling indignant and wondering if he really was cruel enough to be laughing at you right now. You hissed harshly, “It’s not funny.”

“No, no! I’m not laughing at you. It’s just this whole situation could be so easily solved if you and Neteyam actually put your egos aside to talk.” Lo’ak quickly reassured and he shook his head at you mildly with a final huff of laughter, “If there was a chance you could be with my brother, would you take it?”

Your face was still pulled deep in a frown, but the points of your ears twitched in sceptical interest, “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

Lo’ak licked his lips and ground his teeth together. It wasn’t his place to say. The arrangement was a formal one and until it was officially announced by the tsahìk, it was not to be spoken of. Clan formalities had to be observed by all and Neteyam had technically broken the rules by telling him about it.

“My grandmother is going to make a formal announcement to the clan tomorrow night at communal last meal.” Lo’ak said, and there was a particular note in his inflection that urged you to listen, that told you what he was telling you was significant, “If you truly care for my brother, you’ll speak to him afterward and you’ll tell him the truth of how you feel. Because he’s a stubborn skxawng who’s been stung one too many times now and the he won’t be honest with you unless you make the first move.”

***~~~***

You sat with Tula and some of the other female warriors, all gathered for last meal in the central gathering space of the village. You’d barely eaten anything all day and yet, as you stared at the assortment of stewed, roasted and fresh foods on your food mat, you didn’t feel even an ounce of hunger. Your anxiety had made sure of that.

It’d been a typical day of rest for the clan; families enjoyed each other’s company; friends spent time catching up over fun hobbies; children squealed and ran amok the village grounds, glad for a day off from lessons and chores. However, you’d been a tense knot of nerves all day awaiting the tsahìk’s impending proclamation.Ordinarily, you wouldn’t have been bothered. The tsahìk made all sorts of announcements all the time, but tonight’s announcement would supposedly be bringing you an opportunity, or so Lo’ak had assured.

You’d sought Tula out first thing in the morning, brimming with emotion and nerves after the mishap at the shack last night. The olo’eyktan’s family had passed you at communal breakfast and while Lo’ak had graced you with a genial grin, Neteyam had avoided acknowledging you entirely. Everything came to a head at that point.

You’d told Tula everything then about how Kai had ended things, how you’d confronted Neteyam at the shack and what came after. You’d cried in her arms over how you’d inadvertently slighted Neteyam and told her of what Lo’ak was urging you to do. To your surprise, Tula had sided with Lo’ak’s view on things.

What followed was a day of forced, but blessed pampering from your best friend. Tula had taken you down to the bathing springs, where she’d treated you to one of her wonderful back rubs with sweet oils, before she helped you to undo your tightly braided hair for washing. She had cooed and clucked over you, slathering you in all sorts of balms and creams that would help reduce the puffiness of your eyes, relax you and smoothen your skin.

Your hair fell loosely around your ears and shoulders now, luscious and silky from Tula’s various herbal conditioning treatments. Your skin felt smooth like baby’s bottom and she’d dowsed you in a scented oil to help promote calmness. She’d plucked several sun lily blooms from their stems on the walk back to the village and threaded them through your locks, remarking with a flourish that the vivid indigo hue of the flowers set off the rest of your more casual look perfectly.

“You’re quiet this evening, Neyomi. You look beautiful by the way.” Silwey observed, smiling at you from across the gathered circle of women.

The other female warrior’s smile was polite and you forced as genuine a smile back at her in return. Silwey was beautiful too, very beautiful. She had the kind of classic beauty that all the old women harped on about. The kind of loveliness that would make most men drool and gawk.

“Thanks, Tula did a fantastic job on me, as always.” You replied, picking at a small morsel of meat and popping it into your mouth.

“Not that you don’t always look beautiful though, but there’s just something about today’s look that really flatters.” Another female, Kanoa, added brightly.

“Kai is a lucky man.” Silwey chortled. You nearly choked on your food.

Clearing your throat gently, you shrugged self-consciously at Silwey, “Ah, Kai and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise.”

“It’s alright. The split is fairly fresh, but it was mutual.”

Clearly feeling bad for catching you out on an awkward subject, Silwey attempted to cheer you up, “Well, whoever catches your eye next will be a very lucky man.”

The women all murmured in cheerful agreement. Even Tula, who was doing a great job of pretending that she was unaware of the real reason for your disquiet. You mustered up a kind smile at Silwey to reassure her you’d taken no offense. You wondered if she would’ve been as kind if she knew that the man who’d caught your eye was Neteyam…

Absently, you wondered if Neteyam had sought Silwey out on her own again in the weeks you’d stopped going to the shack. You were well aware of Silwey’s romantic interest in Neteyam, especially after her last bold proposition to him all those weeks ago on the very day that had led to your evening spent with Neteyam at the hot spring. The thought of him with Silwey pained you, and you forced the thought from your mind.

A chorus of soft hushing and murmurs rippled through the gathered Omatikaya then and you saw the tsahìk step up onto the raised platform by the bonfire. She raised her arms and the clan fell obediently into silence.

“Brothers and sisters! I thank you all for gathering this night, may Eywa bless us in our communion.” Mo’at called out, her voice carrying strongly over the crowd, “A proposal was brought to me for consideration not long ago, by our olo’eyktan, regarding the traditions our people have long held about how our clans are led. Tradition has always decreed that our peoples be led by a mated pair, olo’eyktan and tsahìk, unified and blessed in the eye of Eywa.”

Your heart was beginning to pound in your chest, impatient for the tsahìk to get to the crux of her proclamation.

Mo’at continued, “But in recent generations, this has not always been so. Indeed there are other clans where the leading pair are not mated to each other, instead leading their people through an agreed partnership. Even for us Omatikaya, things have changed with the coming and subsequent defeat of the Sky People.” She turned astute eyes at her family, at Jake and Neytiri in particular, “I have retained my position as tsahìk because my daughter chose a warrior’s path, while my son-in-law Jake leads us as chief. But I am getting old now.”

Muted murmurs of curiosity were rising within the crowd, all keen to hear what their tsahìk was about to say.

Mo’at raised her arms again and she gestured this time for two others to join her on the platform. Neteyam ascended at her beckoning closely followed by his sister, Kiri.

Mo’at smiled warmly at her two grandchildren, placing a hand on each of their heads in blessing before addressing the crowd again, “Our line of succession has not changed. Neteyam will still succeed his father as olo’eyktan in time to come. However, I have prayed to our Great Mother recently and she has shown me who is to walk the path of tsahìk after me. As many of you have experienced for yourselves, our Kiri is gifted and Eywa’s voice has whispered to her since she was barely more than a babe. Our Great Mother has chosen and Kiri will fulfil the role of tsahìk when my time comes to pass!”

A current of emotion washed through the clan, all susurrating and murmuring, some excitedly and others confusedly.

“Wait, what?” Kanoa breathed, “Kiri will lead with Neteyam?”

“Yes.” Silwey affirmed, “She will be tsahìk and Neteyam will be olo’eyktan alongside her.”

Mo’at’s voice rang out again and she continued, “I hereby declare Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan and Kiri te Suli Kireysi’ite our Omatikaya successors! They will choose their own respective mates, but they will lead this clan in time, brother and sister in partnership!”

Neteyam and Kiri clasped hold of each other hands then and they raised their arms in affirmation of their partnership before the people. The Omatikaya roared their approval, clapping, howling and ululating their joy.

They will choose their own respective mates… Mo’at’s words rang in your ears amidst the din the clan was making around you. Tula clutched at one of your knees, beaming at you happily at what the proclamation meant for you: A chance to love, truly and freely.

Your gaze drifted to the rest of the Sully family standing by the foot of the platform. You caught Lo’ak’s eye and he smirked at you, his eyes twinkling with meaning. This was what he’d meant last night. You recalled his question to you: If there was a chance you could be with my brother, would you take it?

You knew your answer: Absolutely.

The thrilled yammering of the warrior women around you brought you back to the present.

“So he can choose any woman he wants now. Not necessarily one of the healer women.” Kanoa’s voice was an energised whisper and she giggled girlishly at her words.

“Yup, sounds like it.” Another warrior, Neneka said, “Great Mother, have mercy on my soul for saying this, but I’d love to get under Neteyam, you know what I mean? He watches and plays around a bit at the old outpost, but he’s not as unreserved as Lo’ak is.”

You froze when you realised what the topic of the conversation had turned to among the women. Eywa, you didn’t want to hear about other women’s experiences with him…

“Yeah, he’s picky.” Kanoa sighed dreamily, “I bet he’s a generous lover though. Someone here is lucky enough to know.” She elbowed Silwey and burst into another fit of kittenish giggles.

“Hey, stop it. I’m not going to kiss and tell.” Silwey replied, laughing and swatting lightly at Kanoa. She pursed her lips sassily then and she gave a sly narrowing of her eyes, “But he’s an incredible time. That’s all I’ll say.”

The warrior women crowed with laughter at their gossipmongering and your food looked very interesting all of a sudden. You picked at the offerings on your food mat, eating a few mouthfuls and concentrating hard on the burst of savoury flavours on your tongue in a bid to drown out the awful conversation around you. You could feel Tula’s concerned eyes peering at you, but you kept to yourself.

“Well, I’m going to go and congratulate Kiri.” Tula pronounced, trying to change the subject. She pushed off her heels to stand, “Kiri is the one who’s been formally confirmed into her role tonight. It’s not all about Neteyam.”

“That’s true. Good idea.” Silwey agreed, rising to her feet along with the other women. She tittered boldly and then added, her tone brazen, “I’ll congratulate Kiri and then perhaps see if Neteyam would like some private company tonight too.”

The women snickered and began making their way towards the platform to offer Kiri their felicitations. You shook your head at the mob of them as they left. Eywa, the women were as bad as the men were with their egging and bragging of sexual conquests…

Tula lingered behind, staying with you. She crouched down next to you and reached out to squeeze your shoulder, “Don’t pay any attention to them. Eyes on the prize. You have a meaningful conversation that you need to have with Neteyam tonight. And it could change everything.”

“I know.” You sighed, looking over your shoulder where Kiri and Neteyam stood by the front of the platform, surrounded by a throng of well-wishers, “It’s just- I think I really hurt him last night.”

“There are two sides to every story. He’s not exactly been forthcoming with you either. You both need to just clear the air and get everything out in the open.”

“Thanks for everything today. Thanks for listening.” You shot Tula an appreciative smile, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Tula’s answer was a smile and a wink, but her face twisted into an unimpressed grimace when she looked to the front of the platform again, “Better work fast, babe. Silwey’s got dessert on her mind tonight.”

Sure enough, you saw Silwey whispering into Neteyam’s ear when you cast another glance over your shoulder. It was now or never. You needed to get Neteyam alone and you were going to swallow your pride and tell him everything. Dusting your hands off, you rose to your feet, intent for the throng of people gathered at the front.

Politely excusing yourself as you stepped past families and groups of friends, you weaved through the crowd and passed the crackling bonfire on your way. You made for Kiri first, wanting to congratulate the other woman. You had never spoken much to Kiri, but you were acquaintances through her brothers. Being a warrior by profession meant that you had more to do work-wise with Neteyam and Lo’ak than with Kiri, who was of course a healer and spiritual leader by trade.

Finally making it to the newly appointed tsakarem (tsahìk in waiting), you greeted Kiri politely, making the appropriate gesture with your fingers splaying out from your forehead, “Oel ngati kameie, Kiri. Congratulations on your appointment. The clan rejoices and thanks you for your service.”

Kiri’s answering smile at your greeting was enigmatic, her large golden eyes bright and perceptive, “Ngati kameie nìteng (I see you also), Neyomi. Thank you for your kind words.”

You mused quietly to yourself that Kiri already seemed to have the piercing look of a tsahìk down perfectly. The other woman was unfazed as she openly eyed you from your face, down your torso and legs, and then back up to your face again. She cocked her head at you then, eyes in a slight squint, “The tsawksyul blooms are a nice touch in your hair. Beautiful.”

“Irayo (thank you).” You thanked her, realising awkwardly that you really didn’t know what else to say to Kiri. You were also wilting a little under her penetrating gaze, so you spluttered a parting blessing, “May Eywa bless you and keep you always.”

Kiri nodded, the short and wispy ends of her short hair swaying where they framed her lovely face. Her eyes flitted to Neteyam who stood several paces to her right, surrounded by what could only be described as a gaggle of fawning women. Your own eyes followed Kiri’s, taking immediate note of the fact that Silwey was closest to him and that she’d curled a covetous hand around one of his biceps, her side pressed against his.

“I expect you’ll want to get my brother’s attention now that his pool of choice has widened.” Kiri began, moving closer to you so she could speak into your ear, “Like the rest of these eager vultures.”

Her disdain was clear in her tone and you shifted uneasily on your feet. You shook your head to refute her statement, not wanting to be reduced or likened in any way to the notion of a shallow, insipid woman, lusting after a man of high standing.

“I do need to speak to Neteyam, but it’s important. An apology actually.” You replied, hoping your candour would prove your sincerity to his intimidating sister.

With one last cock of her head and a piercing stare that made you feel like she could see you inside and out, the warm smile that Kiri graced you with next was unexpected, “My brothers speak highly of you, as do the warriors in your platoon. Eywa ngahu (May Eywa be with you), Neyomi.”

You dipped your head in acknowledgement and Kiri’s attention was quickly pulled away by another clan member wishing to congratulate her. With a deep breath, you refocused on your objective.

Neteyam was speaking to four women, all smiles and laughter as they conversed. You managed to place yourself in a gap between two of them, just big enough for you to slip into without needing to push anyone. It placed you directly in his line of sight, but if you thought he was going to acknowledge you, even out of courtesy given there were others surrounding him, watching him, you were wrong.

Mild irritation flared in your gut and you continued to look at him, trying to catch his eye. However, Neteyam’s gaze studiously avoided yours while he spoke in turn to the others, even quirking a small smile at Silwey when she leant her cheek against his shoulder. Your distress was sharp behind your sternum at the sight, but you were determined.

You cleared your throat audibly, causing a lull in the conversation as the women turned to look at you. You seized the opportunity, “Excuse me. Neteyam, can I have a moment? I need to speak to you.”

Finally, for the first time that day, his amber orbs clashed with your own. There was no warmth in them though, no emotion. Just pure impassiveness that sent a dreadful shudder through you.

“If it’s about work, it can wait until tomorrow morning.” Neteyam’s response was clipped.

His icy demeanour was cutting. You’d expected him to be upset, but not like this, not cold and unfeeling. “It’s not work-related, but it’s important.”

“Sorry. I’ve got plans tonight.” More callous brusqueness.

This was an unexpected hurdle. You hadn’t anticipated his refusal to speak to you. You’d prepared for his upset and for his anger, but not for his complete and utter disregard. A painful lump was forming in your throat and you swallowed it down tightly.

Keeping a tight rein on the brewing storm of your emotions beneath the surface, you maintained your careful mask of composure and tried again, “Neteyam, please. I only need a few moments.”

“No, I’ll catch you another time.” It was a clear dismissal.

You weren’t going to beg, not in front of everyone. You would swallow your pride, but not to the extent of abandoning all of your dignity.

Silwey was frowning at you, puzzled displeasure colouring her features, and the other women appeared equally uncomfortable at the awkward exchange. The telltale hot flush of humiliation was beginning to tingle and burn on the skin of your face. You regarded Neteyam’s hard gaze one final time before you turned and excused yourself from the group.

The world around you became surreal, the noise of the gathered clan becoming a dull hum as you ambled on numb feet back the way you came. You could feel your composure beginning to fracture, the turbulent storm within you threatening to spill, and with the first breath that hitched painfully in your chest, you broke into a sprint in the direction of your home shelter.

You needed somewhere safe and away from prying eyes for the dam to burst… For the upheaval of your emotions to come pouring out…

Your eyes stung and your vision blurred with the uncontrollable arrival of your tears. An onslaught of sobs besieged you next and you tore the sun lily blooms from your hair as you ran, pawing at the wetness streaming from your eyes. Evidently what had happened last night at the shack had been the last straw for Neteyam. You cried at the unfairness of it all.

You finally had a chance, but now it seemed that Neteyam was unwilling to grant it to you…

Someone was calling your name, the thud of heavy footfalls catching up to you. You ignored their calls, pumping your legs harder to increase your speed.

A strong hand hooked around your elbow, slowing you with a jolt and you attempted to spiral away, “No! Leave me alone!”

Another hand clasped hold of your other arm and your pursuer spun you in their arms to face them. Your forearms collided with a muscled chest and for a split second your mind tricked you into believing that Neteyam had come after you, but as your blurry gaze lifted to the man’s face you recognised who it really was.

Wrong brother. Lo’ak.

Lo’ak’s expression was cross, but you knew his irritation was not directed at you as he shushed you softly, “Hey, it’s alright, sweet thing.” He gave you a brief but tight hug before pulling away and fixing you with determined eyes, “Listen to me, OK? You have to keep it together. Go to my family’s shelter and wait there. Let yourself in, no one is home. They’re all still eating.”

Only half paying attention, you stammered, “W-What? Why?”

“Because I’m sick of this back-and-forth! You and Neteyam are going to talk. Tonight.” Lo’ak pressed insistently. He squeezed your arms gently in reassurance, “Go wait in my family’s shelter. I’ll get my brother.”

“He’s got plans.” You had meant to sound unpleasant, had meant for your voice to be a grating rasp, but what came out was an unsteady warble of words.

A harsh scoff left Lo’ak and he was already turning to jog back towards the crowded throng, “Nope, trust me. He doesn’t. Not if I have anything to say about it. Go! And stay there!”

***~~~***

A cacophony of grunts, thuds and slaps filled the woodland air as the brothers brawled off the main village pathway behind some shrubbery.

Neteyam hadn’t appreciated Lo’ak’s brisk interruption just as he and Silwey had been making their way to a quieter spot for the evening. He’d refused his brother’s ‘urgent’ request to return home at first, until Silwey had sensed the quickly rising strain between the pair and had grudgingly excused herself with a plea for him to seek her out later once the ‘emergency’ had been resolved. Neteyam had known exactly what his brother was doing, had known that there wasn’t a ‘family emergency’ at all, since their entire family could still be seen enjoying their dessert of fruit by the bonfire.

Spiteful comments were exchanged, hissing taunts were made and in the end, it was Lo’ak who’d thrown the first punch out of frustration.

The pair of them tussled, no longer upright on their feet, but wrestling on the moss-covered ground instead. It was a violent tangle of arms and legs. Neteyam had almost succeeded in his attempt to pin Lo’ak, when his younger brother threw a stinging punch, his fist colliding painfully with his jaw. A wounded groan left him and Lo’ak seized the opportunity, rolling to flip his brother onto his back in a pin.

Neteyam’s eyes were scrunched closed and his face was contorted into a pained grimace. Their bodies were robust with strong bones and tough skin, but the pain was always sharp and the bruising would show.

“You done, bro?” Lo’ak snarled, spitting a build-up of saliva and blood on the ground to his side.

Breathing hard, Neteyam fought a throbbing jaw to crack open his eyelids.

Lo’ak could see his brother was still angry, but the vehemence of Neteyam’s ire had dissipated after their brawl. He felt his brother pat his thigh in a gesture of submission and he shifted his weight so Neteyam could sit upright. Lo’ak rose gingerly to his feet, his hip aching a little from a rapid roll that Neteyam had executed earlier. He extended a hand out to his older brother who took it, pulling himself to his feet.

Fisticuffs had never been a regular occurrence between them. Not even when they’d been young boys. Lo’ak had always excelled at being the problematic, troublesome younger brother, but Neteyam had kept hold of his maturity and patience most of the time. They’d only ever had a handful of fistfights in their lives and they’d all been over significant issues. And it was fair to say that tonight’s issue was significant.

“I won’t let you run from this.” Lo’ak declared, wiping the stray dribble of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of a hand, “I’ve always been the stupid, reckless one, and you’ve always looked out for me. Well, I’m returning the favour. She’s worth it, bro.”

Reminded of the reason for their brawl in the first place, Neteyam gritted his teeth and closed his eyes with a deep exhale through his nose. He didn’t want to talk to you… He figured that you felt bad, that you wanted to apologise… but he was past simple apologies now… He didn’t want to face you if you were just going to seek forgiveness and then go back to your life without him…

“There’s nothing to be said. She’s made herself clear that she isn’t interested.” Neteyam muttered severely, massaging at his own tender jaw with cautious fingers.

“I’m fucking done hearing that from both of you!”

“And I’m fucking sick of saying it! She won’t kiss me but she’ll happily kiss you! Things are pretty damn clear to me!”

“That was a misunderstanding, and she’ll explain it herself if you let her! For once in your life, can you just trust me on this?!” Lo’ak exclaimed, exasperated, “I’m not the one being the skxawng ass right now! You and Neyomi have tiptoed around each other for weeks! So I’m staging an intervention. Forced discussion!” The blood continued to build-up in his mouth and he cursed again with another spit to his side. He’d taken an elbow in the teeth from his brother at some point and he was quite sure that one of his teeth had loosened.

“Sorry.” Neteyam mumbled somewhat contritely.

“It was a good move with your elbow, very fast.” Lo’ak conceded, huffing out a laugh. However, his face returned to its sombre expression then, “Maybe you and Neyomi will both find it in yourselves to apologise to one another tonight too.”

Neteyam’s only response was a bitter snort. He was aware Lo’ak had spoken to you last night after he’d fled the shack. His brother had been scant on the details this morning, but he’d insisted that what had happened was a misunderstanding and that he needed to speak to you. Still smarting from your denial the previous night, Neteyam had promptly let Lo’ak’s words in through one of his ears and out the other, not intending at all to follow through.

When Neteyam didn’t say anything more, Lo’ak inveigled him, “Look, she wants to talk and clear the air. You both have some serious shit you need to say to each other and I’m not going to keep playing messenger between you.”

An image of you from earlier in the evening flitted to the forefront of Neteyam’s mind. He saw you with your hair loose and un-braided, the long strands falling to frame your face and trailing to tickle your shoulders and upper back. You had three tsawksyul blooms threaded into your locks behind your ears. You’d looked so beautiful... The next image was of the wounded look on your face when he’d denied your request to speak him in a callous dismissal in front of the others. The hurt that flashed in your eyes had been plain to see, and it had felt good to know that he’d hurt you, that he’d given you a taste of your own medicine.

“Where is she?” Neteyam queried quietly.

“Back at our family’s shelter. I asked her to wait there.”

Moistening his lips, Neteyam took a deep breath and set off back towards the main village path. He felt rotten now for upsetting you. Yes, you’d hurt him, but it didn’t make things any better for him to have hurt you in retaliation.

“Bro,” Lo’ak called out, making Neteyam stop in his tracks, “Don’t make things so hard, OK? Be honest. Open up to her. You might be surprised at what you find.”

With a sideways glace at his brother, Neteyam nodded, “Yeah.”

***~~~***

You sat on your folded legs on the floor of a smaller alcove in the Sullys’ home, waiting anxiously to see if Lo’ak would succeed in his endeavour to persuade Neteyam to speak to you. It hadn’t been a very long while, but it had certainly been long enough that you were starting to worry that perhaps Neteyam had remained unyielding.

You’d let yourself into the Sullys’ home shelter like Lo’ak had instructed and you’d proceeded to drift about awkwardly as you took the space in. Their shelter was much bigger than the standard ones most families lived in. Perks of being the chief’s family, you supposed. It had a much more spacious living area and the alcoves branching off the main space, that served as each individual’s private area, were also bigger than usual.

Trinkets and decorations both of Na’vi and human origin adorned the shelter, speaking to the mixed heritage of the family. Tinkling wooden chimes hung from the joists that held the shelter up. Homely furniture and utensils were set about the space on thick woven rugs, and little paper images of the family (which you’d come to learn were called photographs) were displayed here and there.

You’d ambled about, quietly admiring the place but too nervous to touch anything out of respect. Your nose had led you to one of the alcoves in particular, Neteyam’s familiar scent wafting from it like an appealing perfume that called to every nerve and cell in your body. A sense of comfort had washed over you and you’d settled yourself on the floor rug in his alcove to continue your wait.

Everything about the alcove screamed Neteyam, from the neatly made bedding to the well-ordered layout. His elegant bow and weaponry were systematically arranged against one side, long knives, spears and daggers hanging from a sturdy looking frame. Tidy piles of fabric and clothing sat nestled in a wooden chest, and a small but ornate dresser sat on the far side with his personal jewellery and knick-knacks. Your own alcove looked like a haphazard hovel in comparison, but whenever your mother complained of the mess, you always maintained that you found comfort in your chaos.

As another wave of apprehension consumed you, you inhaled deeply through your nose and let your breath whistle out from between your lips. Your gaze fell to your clasped hands in your lap. You knew what you wanted to say. You’d rehearsed the words over and over in your mind the whole day. You just needed a chance to say them. A pang of hurt lanced through your chest at your recollection of Neteyam’s callous dismissal. You hoped that you’d get that chance tonight.

The draping flaps at the entrance of the shelter swished apart then and your head snapped upright with a gasp to see Neteyam enter the space. Another gasp left you when you took in the few purpling bruises on his ribs and jawline, visible even in the lambent glow of the firelight in the central hearth.

You were on your feet and marching up to him in an instant, concern in your voice, “What happened?” You raised a gentle hand to his face, wanting to examine his jaw, but he flinched away from your touch.

“Lo’ak said you were waiting here to talk. He was very persuasive with his fists.” Neteyam replied and his tone was harsh and tight.

Your lips settled into an unhappy line. Your gaze dropped to Neteyam’s clenched fists by his sides and you spotted the telltale cuts on his knuckles that indicated the fight certainly wasn’t one-sided. You felt another sharp pinprick of hurt that the brothers had gotten into a physical disagreement over your request to speak to Neteyam. Did he really loathe you that much now that he’d fought with Lo’ak over this?...

Neteyam stood motionless while he watched your various emotions flit across your face. He noted the absence of the sun lily blooms from your hair, noted the downturn of your ears, the stickiness of your cheeks and the shine around your eyes. You’d been crying... Guilty regret bloomed in his gut, but his pride was quick to quash it. He was hurt too, hurt by your previous denials. Tears may not have left his eyes but that didn’t mitigate the fact that you’d hurt him too with your rejections.

Your heart thumped in your chest, blood pounding in your ears as you watched Neteyam wait for you to say something. His gaze was cold and the impatient swish of his tail was telling.

Now, in the moment, with the chance you wanted presented to you, the words you’d repetitively rehearsed earlier seemed to have abandoned you entirely. Desperately trying to tamp down the panic that was rising, you heartened yourself. Now or never, Neyomi!

“I’m sorry.” The words were a sticky croak in your throat and you cleared it softly before continuing, “I didn’t mean for last night to end like it did. The truth is, I wanted to kiss you both one last time. Lo’ak just happened to be closest to me. I would’ve turned to you after.”

“Uh huh.” Neteyam’s response was sceptical and he felt his irritation beginning to rise. It was certainly a very convenient explanation on your part… You’d wanted to kiss him too? After all your rebuffs and refusals, he found it incredibly hard to believe.

You sensed his disbelief and you pressed your point further, “I’m not just saying that, I mean it. I didn’t do it to mock you or hurt you. I was so spaced out and I wasn’t really thinking things through. I’m sorry, really I am.”

“Yeah, OK. You’re forgiven.” Neteyam said with a shrug, feigning insouciance in a bid to disguise his hurt. He didn’t really forgive you. He felt far too wounded to excuse your actions so easily, but he was growing more and more uncomfortable in the thick tension that surrounded you both and he wanted out of there. If what you wanted was to apologise and seek his forgiveness then you’d done that. Conversation over. “If that’s all you needed to say then you’ll need to excuse me. Someone’s waiting for me.”

The nonchalance Neteyam was displaying made you feel equal parts sad and angry. Here you were being sincere, wanting to start an honest discussion and he wasn’t even trying. It felt as if he was here just so he could tell Lo’ak he’d spoken to you, when nothing about his manner or his words was genuine. Neteyam’s frame was already turned halfway away from you, his intention to leave clear.

Your annoyance spiked, emboldening you and you hissed, “No, I’m not done. Don’t walk away from me.” Especially not to run back into Silwey’s arms…

Pausing in his steps, Neteyam gritted his teeth and his injured jaw throbbed painfully. He turned to face you again with pinned ears and unimpressed eyes, “What else?”

He watched your as your breaths began to deepen and a frown marred your lovely face. You were so impossibly beautiful even when you were angry, and the thought only further infuriated him in that moment. Lo’ak’s words echoed in the recesses of his mind; be open, be honest. But what did his brother expect him to do? Pour his heart out to you? He’d done that once before the night of the hot spring, and you’d thrown his affection back in his face.

Your next words were uncanny, as if you had somehow read his thoughts.

“I’m sorry also for how I reacted that night at the hot spring.” You stated, making a conscious attempt to stop your irritation from colouring your expression. You wanted to appear sincere and you didn’t think an apology delivered with a scowl would achieve that. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings then either, and I’m sorry if I did.”

Neteyam wasn’t making the same effort though and his words were muttered through clenched teeth, “Again, you’re forgiven.”

Your tail hung low between your legs and you frowned at him, upset, “You’re just saying that. I’m trying to tell you that I’m genuinely sorry and you’re just going through the motions!”

The monster of his pain that Neteyam had spent the last couple of moons trying to restrain reared its ugly head in full force. He didn’t want your apologies. He wanted you. But just as he couldn’t force you to feel for him what he felt for you, your apologies couldn’t force his earnest forgiveness from him either.

“Well, a genuine apology doesn’t always earn genuine forgiveness, especially when forgiveness isn’t ready to be granted on the forgiver’s part!” Neteyam cried in a bitter shout. He saw you gulp and recoil slightly at his raised voice, but he’d uncorked the bottle of his tumultuous emotions now and after being pent up for so long, his words poured from him in an inexorable stream, “Do you know what it’s like to want someone, to be around them every day, to be so close to them and know what their body feels like, tastes like, and yet have to live with the fact that they don’t want you the same way?! You know, if all you wanted from me was the pleasure of my body, then so be it! I’ll accept that and I’ll get over my feelings in time. But don’t expect me to forgive you now when I’m not ready to do that!”

His shouting startled you at first, but you were quick to recover. He wasn’t the only one who could be loud.

“It’s not just your body I want!” You shrieked in return, and it was Neteyam’s turn to wince. You advanced on him and he took a few steps back as you gained on him until he was backed against one of the shelter’s support beams. “And yes, I know exactly what it’s like to want someone and feel like you can’t have them because that’s how I’ve been feeling too, you skxawng!”

You were so close to Neteyam now that your chin was tilted up defiantly while you held his gaze. He was glaring down at you in return, his broad chest heaving with his own resentment. You were both reeling from each other’s words, both your brains working frantically to process the situation. However, rationality was hard to find when emotions were running high, especially when what felt good in the moment was to spew blame and point fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the tsahìk’s arrangement with Kiri?” You demanded hotly.

“What difference would it have made?” Neteyam snarled, “Besides, you avoided me for weeks! You were impossible to get hold of and then you went and started fucking Kai!”

“It would’ve made all the difference!” You screeched, “And don’t bring Kai into this! I never put any restrictions on you or Lo’ak while our agreement was in place. I never stopped either of you from carrying on with your other play nights with the other women!”

“I haven’t been with anyone else since you! Despite everything, all I want is you!”

“Me too!”

Both his words and yours were shouted and the sound reverberated in the hollow confines of the shelter. You sagged as if suddenly tired from the emotional tirade of the last while, and you saw the remnants of Neteyam’s ire gradually seep from his own furious expression. The truth of the situation struck you both with such stark clarity that it stunned you both into deafening silence.

Neteyam was the first to break the silence. He gave a slow shake of his head and he closed his eyes, trying to make sense of it all, “Wait, what? So why did you pull away that night at the spring? And then you avoided me and stopped coming to the shack when you start seeing Kai.”

“Because I was scared.” You murmured, and the memory of your sleepless nights filled with heartsick despair brought unbidden tears to your eyes. You blinked wet eyes up at him and your tears escaped at the action.

Neteyam hated the sight of your tears, especially now that he was the cause of them. He sighed wearily. Tenderness swelled in his chest and he cupped one of your cheeks with a gentle hand, smoothing away the rolling bead of moisture with his thumb. His deep voice was soft and gentle when he spoke, a direct contrast to his harsh bellows from before, “Scared of what?”

“Of falling for you.” You gave a wet laugh and continued your explanation, “You will be olo’eyktan of this clan one day. By tradition your mate must be worthy of being tsahìk. That was never going to be me. I ran because I was in too deep already. I wanted to keep what I had left of my heart, but I realised after that it was too late anyway.”

Neteyam stifled a curse under his breath. The arrangement of Kiri becoming tsakarem hadn’t been confirmed yet at the time. His grandmother had still been deliberating and praying about it when the night at the hot spring had occurred, but the decision had been made not long after. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so wounded by your actions, if he’d listened to his brother and been more persistent in getting hold of you, this current situation may not have spiralled so out of hand.

“Fuck, I should’ve said something.” Neteyam lamented with a groan, tilting his chin down to rest his forehead against yours, “I was just so convinced that you didn’t feel the same way and that telling you would just result in another rebuff. Especially since you still came to the shack to play for but refused to kiss me.”

“I wanted to, so much.” You whispered with a sniffle, your nose brushing his lightly, “I tried with Kai, but there was no spark there. All I could think about was you. How could I not want all of you? You’re everything I want. I wanted to protect my heart but it broke anyway trying to stay away from you.”

Your words ended in a mewling sob and Neteyam enveloped you in his arms, crushing you to him. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, the comforting warmth of his body only seeming to make you cry harder.

“Shhh, I’m sorry too.” Neteyam soothed, running a large hand up and down your back while the other cupped your head against him, “I’ve been a fool and I’m so sorry.”

Remorse and shame flooded him as he reflected now on the past while. Hindsight was always 20/20. Great Mother, you’d both been so stupid... You’d both been on the same trajectory all along, except you hadn’t seen a conceivable way forward and while he had, knowing of the arrangement with Kiri, your fear and your avoidant behaviour had caused him to misunderstand and unwittingly hide the solution from you.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, loosening his hold when he felt you shift to peer up at him.

Dabbing at your nose and eyes with the back of your hand, you apologised for your appearance, “Sorry, I probably look a mess.”

Neteyam emitted a scoff and graced you with a warm smile. His hands framed your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks, “No, you’re beautiful even when you cry, paskalin. I’ll claim that kiss that you owe me now, if that’s alright?”

With a giggle, you agreed.

Sliding your palms up his chest to wind your arms around his neck, you pushed up onto the balls of your feet to meet his lips in a smooth and plush meld. It was different to how you’d imagined it would be last night, in your dazed state of overstimulation and arousal. When you’d decided on sharing one last kiss with Neteyam and Lo’ak, you’d been dejected and you’d expected the kiss to be filled with an air of sad finality. But your kiss with Neteyam now burned bright with hope and promise.

Pulling away gently, Neteyam’s smile was wide and you could see your own happiness mirrored in his golden orbs. He nuzzled your cheek affectionately, rubbing his cheek along yours while you did the same. You felt lighter than you had in a long time, the blooming warmth of your joy radiating from your heart out towards your limbs and extremities. After so many miserable nights and awkward days, the relief and thrill of knowing that feelings were requited on both sides was wonderful.

Neteyam pressed a chaste kiss to your lips and he declared, “I want to court you, openly. I want every man and woman in this clan to know that you and I are seeing each other. No one else, no more shack visits with Lo’ak.”

You couldn’t help the beaming grin that danced across your cheeks, and you chased his lips with your own as you spoke, “Yes, I accept, and it wasn’t Lo’ak that I came to the shack for.”

You felt Neteyam’s strong arms embrace you again while his lips and tongue danced passionately with yours. When you felt his large hands move to your upper thighs to hoist you against him, you instinctively twined your legs around his slender waist, locking your ankles behind him. He manoeuvred both of you into his alcove, messily pulling the cloth drapes at its entrance closed to cocoon you both in the privacy of the space.

Lowering you gently onto the softness of his bed, you moaned quietly with delight at how everything smelled of him. The heavy weight of him settled beside you and he stretched out alongside the length of your body. You both turned to lie on your sides, facing each other. It was darker in the alcove with no lamps lit in the space, the only source of light being the glow of the main fire behind the draping cloths at the alcove entrance. But Na’vi eyes acclimatised quickly and soon you could clearly make out the contours of Neteyam’s handsome face.

Your eyes trailed his form slowly from head to toe, following the vividly glimmering constellations of his tanhì (bioluminescent freckles) on his face, down his chest, abdomen and his legs. You were unhurried as you drunk in the sight of him and he appeared to be doing the same, his eyes performing a similar trek over your own body. Eywa, he was so gorgeous… His body was just perfect, every defined muscle encased in warm, smooth skin that smelled of masculine virility.

You reached out to trail your fingers over his ribs and his toned abdominals, relishing the shudder you earned from him as your fingertips traced the sensitive skin of his hip.

One of his hands stroked across your cheek and he leaned in to kiss you gently, whispering a beloved declaration against your lips, “I love you.”

Your lips stretched wide and he felt your smile against him, “I love you too.”

“Shall I show you just how much?” Neteyam’s voice was a mischievous rasp.

You tittered and sighed desirously, “Yes, make love to me, you stubborn man.”

A dark chuckle from him, “You’re going to have to be quiet here though. Think you can do that?”

You nodded soundlessly, eagerly reaching to undo the ties of your chest covering and flinging it aside to bare your breasts to him. Neteyam’s groan was almost inaudible, but you felt the rumbling growl of it with how close you were to him. His hands were immediately on your breasts, the heat of his palms searing against your soft mounds. He kneaded your breasts, thumbs stroking sensually over your incredibly sensitive nipples that hardened under his attentions. The sensation made liquid heat pool between your thighs.

Your hands made quick work of your loincloth and the fabric was flung to join your top. You felt one of his hands snake around your hip to pull you closer to him, front to front, and when his legs tangled with yours you noticed he was bare against you too, devoid of his own loincloth. You smoothed a hand over his strapping chest, fingertips testing the hard muscle there before your hand meandered towards his neck and you clutched his head towards yours.

You kissed him languidly, tasting him and smelling him, marvelling that you could love him now, truly. No more pretending. No more holding back. After so long without his lips against yours, you could quite honestly say that if the pair of you did nothing but kiss all night, you’d still wake up satisfied.

Neteyam pulled back from the kiss then and you whimpered in complaint, but he hushed you with a thumb against your lips. He murmured to you, “Shh, I love you here,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Here,” A kiss to each of your eyes, “Here,” A kiss on your nose… And on he continued downward, your shoulders, a suckling kiss to each nipple, over your heart, your navel…

You lost count after that, just getting lost in the amorous bliss of his lips paying worship to every inch of your bare skin down to your toes. He didn’t disappoint though and when he parted your thighs to settle himself between your legs, and licked a full stripe from your pussy up to your clit, you jerked with a stifled cry.

“I love you especially here.” Neteyam growled. His mouth got to work, licking and suckling at your soon throbbing core while you watched him through hooded eyes.

His golden eyes locked with yours and the intensity of his gaze made your pussy clench, pouring with slick. Your fingers played absently with his beaded braids while your hips rocked against the moist paradise of his mouth. Your eyes could barely stay open as you enjoyed the building pleasure.

Something slid down one of your thighs then and you cracked open an eyelid just in time to see Neteyam trail the thick braid of his kuru (neural queue) over your hip towards you. It was a very intimate thing, to touch another’s kuru. The intimacy of the action was surpassed only by the making of tsaheylu between two people, but Neteyam’s invitation to you to touch his was clear.

Slowly, you reached for the meticulously braided length with one hand, gently running your fingers over the smooth hair around it. Neteyam let out a small sigh that puffed against your core and he closed his eyes, enjoying your caress. You trailed your hand closer towards the end of his queue where you knew the delicate pink tendrils of it were housed. Tenderly, your fingers delved past the ends of the hair around the sheath and a sharp jolt of pleasure raced through you as the tendrils enveloped your fingers.

Neteyam whimpered, his lips and tongue ceasing their work momentarily as pleasure shot down his queue and straight to his stiff cock which gave an excited spurt of pre-cum. It was new sensation to him and a thoroughly erotic one. He couldn’t describe it, but as your fingers played with the tendrils, it was almost as if he could feel your fingers touching him at every single erogenous zone simultaneously. He resumed his feasting of your core, tongue lapping at your slick folds that only seemed to moisten further with each lap of his tongue.

His name was a whispered sigh on your lips as your clit pulsated and your inner walls squeezed. The addition of a couple of his fingers came next and he sealed his lips over your nub to suck intently at it. The tendrils of his kuru fizzled pleasantly in and around your fingers. You didn’t know what made you do it, instinct perhaps, but you brought it up towards one of your breasts then, letting the squirming tendrils attach and wrap themselves around your areola and nipple.

The pleasure was instantaneous and Neteyam’s groan against your flesh told you he felt it too. A wave of ecstasy flushed through you from your nipples to your core, throwing you into the inescapable clutches of an orgasm. Mindful of your surroundings, your mouth formed a silent ‘o’ and your fingers twisted in his hair while you writhed in bliss. Neteyam’s hand gripped onto the flesh of your hips, keeping you still enough so he could continue to drink from your core.

Your desire burned feverishly within you despite the shattering climax you’d just experienced and you were impatient to have more of him against you. Tugging at his braids to get his attention, Neteyam lifted his face, licking his lips while his cheeks glistened with the evidence of your arousal. His expression was almost feral as he crawled up your body on all fours, and you spied his straining erection, watching it bob as he made his way up to you.

You shot him a slow smile as he settled himself alongside you again and the mess on his face didn’t deter you from kissing him. You murmured, “Thank you.”

“I’m enchanted by you, paskalin. I’ll do anything you ask for as long as I live.”

A hot blush stained your cheeks at his romantic words and you didn’t know whether to kiss him again or hide your face. You saw him look at the end of his kuru where it remained attached to your breast and you urged him, “Leave it. This might sound strange, but it’s as though I can feel you better. And it feels good.”

Neteyam smirked at you and nodded in agreement, “What would you like now? I’m impatient to have you though.”

His shifted his hips, his drooling erection slipping against your lower belly. You chortled softly at him and you took pity on his aching flesh, reaching down with a hand to greet his cock with a familiar stroke. A loud grunt left Neteyam and you hushed him, ears twitching and listening to the surroundings of the shelter. No one had returned yet, you were quite sure, the both of you would’ve heard them. Though it paid to be cautious.

Getting caught in a compromising position with the olo’eyktan’s son in the olo’eyktan’s home was not a misdemeanour you wanted against your record.

You continued your teasing stroke and squeeze of his cock, revelling in the sound of Neteyam’s strained panting by your ear. You paused by the swollen tip, running your thumb back and forth over his frenulum, which drew a very vulgar curse from him. His free hand was stimulating your other nipple while the tendrils of his kuru undulated over your other. The stimulation made your pussy ache and your clit throb longingly and you rubbed your thighs together to try and ease the pressure.

“Let me help you with that. You know I can fill you up so good.” Neteyam purred, thrusting his hips so his cock slipped faster in the grasp of your hand as if to press his point.

You smirked at him and licked sensuously over his parted lips with your tongue, “No, I think I’ll tease you a bit more for being so mean to me earlier. Besides, I want to try something.”

Your introduction to Neteyam’s neural queue made you eager to return the favour. Reaching behind you with your other hand, you brought your kuru over your shoulder and carefully held its end out between you, the twisting pink tendrils greeting Neteyam with their rippling dance. Already breathing heavily from the pleasure you were giving his cock, he lifted his hand to meet your tendrils, and both of you gasped as they twined around his fingers.

The sensation was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Heat flushed over your skin and you prickled everywhere that you were sensitive; your nipples hardened and your pussy gushed with more slick. An unbidden erotic image came to you of your kuru’s tendrils wrapped around Neteyam’s cock and you shivered with delight at the thought.

Gently pulling your kuru from Neteyam’s fingers, you gradually inched it down towards his midsection, wanting to make the image your brain had supplied a reality. You watched him for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty, but his pupils were blown so wide with arousal you could hardly see the gold of his irises, and he looked on with as much eager anticipation as you did. Releasing his cock where you held it in your right hand, you brought left hand with your kuru towards it. The tendrils eagerly wrapped around their new target, coiling around the head and upper shaft.

You felt Neteyam’s body lurch at the same time that a wave of immense gratification shot through your neural queue to your own core.

“Fuck, Neyomi.” Neteyam keened and you saw his cock pulse, emitting a viscous string of pre-cum. It continued to throb and you swore your clit was throbbing in time with it.

Neteyam groaned aloud again, evidently struggling to keep to his own rule of being quiet. You rolled onto you back, pulling him atop you and silencing him with a deep kiss. You drowned in the moist heat of his mouth, lips and tongues waltzing in-between the twist and turn of your heads. He was rocking his hips against yours, his cock trapped between your bodies while your kuru still remained coiled around his sensitive flesh.

He broke away from the kiss with a sharp hiss of pleasure, “Wiya (damn), I’m going to cum like this if I can’t have you soon.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good?”

“Too good. Please, I need you.” Neteyam pleaded with a whimper, and he continued to ramble, “I know you must be aching for me. Let me make you squirt on my cock. You must have missed that right? All those weeks you didn’t come to the shack.”

You paused. It was true, you had missed him and missed his body, but you’d technically managed to squirt too with the dildo you’d poached from the shack…

When you didn’t answer, Neteyam stilled in his movements and he turned questioning eyes at you, “What is it?”

You bit your lip sheepishly, wondering if you should fib your way out of the situation or tell him the truth and make him feel a little less special. You didn’t want to start your new relationship off with a lie, so you resolved to be truthful, “I did manage to squirt whilst I wasn’t with you.”

His eyes widened and he looked rather taken aback.

“N-Not with someone else!” You quickly amended, “I pinched one of the toys from the shack a while ago when you and Lo’ak weren’t looking. It ah- It does the trick.”

Neteyam’s face suddenly morphed into a very smug smile and he leaned down to nibble at the point of your ear while he drawled, “Oh the dildo. We wondered where it had gone. Did you enjoy it, you little snitch?”

You shivered against him and rubbed your cheek against his, “Yeah, so your cock’s not the only one that can make me squirt. Sorry.”

Neteyam’s answering chuckle was deep and self-assured, “Don’t be. I’m not sorry about that.”

Confusion coloured your face and you pulled your head back to look at him, “You’re not?”

Neteyam’s expression was still incredibly conceited when he shook his head. He reached down and gently removed your kuru from his cock, keeping hold of it still though and letting its tendrils find purchase amongst his fingers instead. Sliding his knee between your thighs, he urged your to part your legs for him, which you did without hesitation. Balancing over you on his forearms, he settled his hips against yours and began a tantalising rub of his cock against your folds. You moaned with want and hooked your ankles behind his lower back.

“Why would I be upset about you squirting on that dildo,” He taunted huskily, “When that dildo was made from a mould of my cock?” His last words were punctuated with a sharp thrust of his hips, his long length penetrating you suddenly and fully to the hilt.

You threw your head back against the bedding with a guttural cry, uncaring at that moment if anyone heard you. Well that explained a lot about why that dildo had felt so good inside you… You didn’t have time to ponder on that thought. You clutched at Neteyam’s body, arms wrapped tight around his torso, your legs locked around his hips as he settled into a rhythm of rocking thrusts.

“You’re mine, paskalin.” Neteyam vowed and his lips found yours again in an all-consuming meld that set your heart and soul alight with elation.

You couldn’t get enough of him. He was all around you, over you, in you, and yet you still felt like you needed him to be closer. Your fronts were pressed to each other’s and your tails were twined; if you died like this you knew you would die the happiest you’d ever been. Your mouths remained fused, pausing only for short intakes of breath before finding each other again.

Neteyam’s thrusts were slow, but they were deep and you could feel every last ridge and outline of his cock inside you. The depth of his movements was delicious and the intense and pulsing throbs of your pelvic muscles signalled an impressive climax on the horizon for you.

Neteyam broke away from your kiss, tucking his face into the side of your neck to stifle his own reflexive moans of enjoyment. You knew he was close too from the shudder of his torso with each of his thrusts, and you could somehow feel his pleasure too, from his kuru at your breast and your kuru within his grasp.

Great Mother, you could only imagine how breathtaking it would feel when two people mated and made tsaheylu…

The winding spiral of pleasure twisted tighter and tighter in your lower belly, and your fingernails scored Neteyam’s back whilst you teetered on the brink of oblivion. You felt suspended in time, the only sounds you could hear were the pounding of your hearts and Neteyam’s harsh groans as he too hovered on the edge. He lifted his head and his gaze locked with your own, each of your pleasure-filled reflections mirrored in the dark pupils of each other’s eyes.

It was the only reflection you ever wanted to see in his eyes, your own face staring back at you. You never wanted to be without Neteyam again and as your heart shattered with the depth of your love for him, so did your core. Your climax swept through you like a tidal wave, your pussy clenching down and pulsing rhythmically as the wetness of your squirt gushed between your bodies. Your face twisted into what you hoped was a silent scream while the pleasure consumed you.

The squeeze and clench of your walls around his cock, as always, was nirvana for Neteyam. His entire frame tensed and went rigid, and he gritted his teeth hard to keep himself from shouting out his pleasure as he ejaculated. Your body milked him for every drop he had and your pussy continued to flutter around his swollen length pleasurably.

“Neteyam… Neteyam…” You whispered his name in a blissful chant and though your arms and legs shook from exertion, you kept them wrapped about him, not wanting to let him go. You mewled in complaint when he tried to roll his weight off you, so he deftly rolled you both so you could lie on top of him, still intimately joined.

Neteyam clasped you to him, on arm draped over your back while his other hand made soothing strokes over your hair. He could feel your breaths puffing gently into the crook of his neck where your cheek rested against his collarbone. His kuru and yourshad detached at some point and they trailed alongside your bodies, but it took nothing away from the intimacy you were both still wrapped up in.

“By Eywa, you’re it for me, you know that?” Neteyam affirmed with a hoarse chuckle, “Without a doubt. I’ll never look at another woman again.”

Your heart soared at his words and you knew, if you could see yourself, that your tanhì would be glowing bright with your immeasurable joy and contentment, “I guess we’re both ruined for each other then.”

“Will you be mine, formally? Will you accept this offer of betrothal?”

You gasped softly at his request. Your heart screamed your answer, affirmative without any hesitation, but the cogs in your mind began to turn. His betrothal request was unexpected. You’d agreed earlier to be courted openly by him, but a betrothal was serious. It was an engagement to be mated for life and while your heart danced for joy, your conscience questioned, not his fit for you as a mate, but your fit for him as mate to the olo’eyktan.

“Neyomi?” Neteyam queried quietly at your silence. His apprehension was clear in his tone.

You raised your head to regard him, blinking wide eyes at him, “I want to accept, but what if I turn out to be wrong for you? What if I’m not fit to stand by your side as wife to the olo’eyktan?”

He laughed at you then, relief sweeping over his face when he realised why you were hesitating, “You stand by my side every day already, paskalin. You’re my second-in-command and you’ve partnered with me, challenged me where I needed to be, and supported me for years. You already hold the position without the formal title.”

Tears sprang to your eyes as your emotions began to gain the upper hand. You murmured wetly, “You really want me like that? Forever?”

Neteyam craned his head upward to brush his lips against yours, “I want you every way that I can have you. As my second-in-command, my wife, mother of my children…”

His words trailed off, interrupted by you as you pulled him against you to claim his lips in another searing kiss, “Yes! I accept.”

There was commotion then in the main space of the family’s shelter. Hushed whispers and soft chatter sounded, indicating the return home of the other Sullys.

A very loud and contrived coughing fit sounded from Lo’ak, who cleared his throat dramatically several times, apologising repeatedly for his noisy fuss. You and Neteyam grinned at each other in the darkness, chortling to yourselves, knowing full well that Lo’ak was wanting to ensure the both of you knew that you were no longer alone.

You settled your head against Neteyam’s chest again, closing drowsy eyes and basking in the afterglow.

Neteyam murmured a bedtime prayer and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, “Sleep, my love and I’ll rise to kiss you again in the morning.”

***~~~***

You were awoken by the sound of soft knocking against wood and a feminine voice calling out gently.

Neteyam stirred beneath you, his shoulder shifting beneath your cheek. You’d slept pressed against each other the entire night and were it not for the corporeality of the situation currently, you would’ve sworn it was all just a wonderful dream.

More knocking sounded and you were grateful to see the cloth drapes at the alcove entrance remained shut. Neither of you was decent yet.

The feminine voice called again and you recognised it to be Kiri’s, “Good morning, you two. The day has long begun.”

Part of you sighed in relief. Better Kiri than Neytiri. Great Mother, you didn’t want to face Neteyam’s mother right now after a sensual night with him, under their roof…

Neteyam’s smile was debonair and he blinked sleepy eyes at you. You squinted back at him, the harsh daylight outside obvious even in the confines of the shelter. You startled with a gasp. Daylight! By Eywa, what was the time?!

Scrambling for your clothing, you smacked Neteyam’s thigh, “Neteyam! The hunters! We’ve got patrol this morning!”

Kiri’s laughter sounded like a charming peal of shell chimes from behind the drapes, “Mm yes, I daresay it caused quite the stir when both the commander of the warriors and his second-in-command didn’t turn up for work today.”

A long and grumbled curse hissed out from Neteyam as he pressed the fingers of one hand into his eyes.

Kiri was quick to chastise, clucking her tongue in reprimand, “Language, brother. Besides, there’s no need to fret. Dad and Lo’ak stepped in to lead today’s patrol. There isn’t any urgency for you.”

Dressing quickly nonetheless, you shared a chaste kiss with Neteyam before he drew back the alcove drapes. Kiri stood with her arms folded, looking mighty amused as her eyes flitted sagaciously between the pair of you.

Kiri’s shrewd eyes took in your form, trailing you from head to toe again, but there was a teasing glint in them when she spoke, “That was some apology you had for my brother.”

Flushing a deep shade of violet, you greeted the young woman meekly, “Good morning, Kiri.”

“Where’s Mum?” Neteyam asked, glancing around the empty shelter with nervous eyes. He threaded his fingers through yours to hold your hand. His mother wouldn’t have been pleased by what the both of you had done. Yes, you were both grown adults and intimacy was not frowned upon amongst the people, but there was a certain respect that one had to have for their parents’ home.

Kiri giggled again with a polite hand over her mouth, “She’s out. She left early this morning to help Grandmother gather some herbs.” She snorted when she saw Neteyam visibly relax, and she couldn’t help but take another jab at him, amused by his discomfiture, “Oh don’t worry, Mum definitely wanted to throw you both out earlier this morning, but I think the Great Mother had something to say about that.”

You frowned, not understanding Kiri’s meaning. Neteyam’s ears too pricked in curious interest and he cocked a questioning head at his sister, “What do you mean?”

Kiri padded to the main archway of the family shelter and she pulled one half of the entry cloths aside, motioning with her head for both of you to step outside, “Come see for yourself.”

Following along a little behind Neteyam, the warmth of daylight greeted your skin as you both stepped out into the open. You heard Neteyam suck in a breath and halt in his steps. Blinking against the intense daylight, your eyes took a few moments to acclimatise. However, when they finally did and you took in the spectacle before you, you gave a loud gasp of surprise.

All around the Sullys’ family shelter, littering the ground and hovering about the structure, were dozens of atokirina (seeds of the sacred tree). The feathery seeds undulated about the place, sprinkling the shelter in a dusting of blessed white.

Kiri stepped out after the both of you, grinning, “Evidently Eywa thought all was right with the world.”

You felt Neteyam pull you to his side and he nuzzled your cheek tenderly. Your answering smile was bright and you placed a shy kiss on his shoulder.

“Do I need to tell Grandmother to make another formal announcement?” Kiri asked, smirking at the tender display of affection between you.

Neteyam’s beamed at his sister and his response was full of affectionate confidence, “Yes. Neyomi and I are both spoken for. We’re betrothed.”

And all was right with the world indeed…

Epilogue - Silwey's Reaction HERE

***~~~***

Author's Note: The end! THANK YOU again to all of you wonderful folks for your awesome support. I absolutely love interacting with everyone and it's because of you that this series became a reality. It was only ever meant to be a oneshot! I hope that you've relished Neteyam & Neyomi's (reader) journey to love. Let me know your thoughts, scream to me in the comments! Reblogs, likes & comments are always very appreciated. 😘

Tag list: @teymars @eyweveng @leaveitbythewave @luvteyams @akiras-key @bajbr @qcswrites @reggiesslut @neteluvr @savvysscandles @dasaniix @emery-333 @vintaqestar @live-laugh-neteyam @itssomeonereading @strawberry-vamp0 @delacruzyari @bluecooki3 @aalex561-blog @frustrated-kitten @innercreationflower @wolf12thsworld @wheneclipsefalls @iameatingmyhair @ele-sme @investedreader @oasiswithmyg @daeneeryss @pandorxxx @anonka01 @hunbomb @pandoraslxna @adrianarose7 @sunghoonmyluv @notnat02 @getthisoverwith33 @simp4myself @spicymayyo @animehoe1-800 @daddysmurfslefttoenail @iman-lu @creepytoes88 @flyingspacewhale @neteyamswifesworld @lostress101 @nilsavatar @cloudyw1ndzz @itsjazzsworld @solemnlover @asweetblueberry2 @blue-slxt

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neptuneiris · 7 months

Text

sparks (02/04)

And I know, I was wrong But I won't let you down

pairing: business-boyfriend!aemond x fem!reader

summary: at the beginning your relationship with aemond is perfect and there were no worries. until he becomes the Heir of his father's company, the most important in the whole country and certain events and certain people start to interfere in the relationship.

word count: 8.8k

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IT'S HERE! MY GOD-i'm so excited for you to read this, I'm really enjoying writing this fic so much and your comments and opinions make me very happy, and I'll be waiting anxiously to answer them:)

I also want to thank you for the incredible support for the first part, it was simply amazing! thank you for reading, commenting and reblogging, it means a lot to me beautiful people❤

now i won't stop you anymore, enjoy and wait anxiously for the next part!

As the sun slowly sets on the horizon, you and Aemond arrive at the majestic event venue of one of the most luxurious hotels in the city.

You are both dressed elegantly, he in an impeccable black suit and you in a stunning metallic ocean blue dress, the same color of the sapphire that Aemond wears in his empty socket and also his favorite color.

You have always waited for the ideal moment to wear this color of dress and match perfectly with Aemond, knowing too well and so does he that this night is very important.

The whole street and around has the passage completely obstructed for outsiders, there are police cars guarding the whole area along with security guards to allow the entrance to the hall of the huge hotel where the whole event will happen to the people who have been required.

You along with Aemond are allowed to pass through easily, while you watch through the window as all the press goes crazy and take pictures of absolutely everything, especially the car, as they know that inside is the Heir to Targaryen Inc.

There are a lot of cameras, a lot of light and above all a lot of people.

You feel how Aemond's hand gently squeezes yours, bringing his body a little closer towards yours, observing everything just like you and feeling perfectly how anxiety starts to run through his body, as well as he starts to feel a knot in his stomach.

The magnitude of the event and the amount of people gathered there started to make him feel nervous even though he has attended these events before.

But especially now he feels that way because he knows that all eyes will be on him now that he is his father's Heir.

He knows he hasn't even gotten out of the car and he's already the center of attention, so he imagines what a disaster it will be by the time he's finally in full view of all the photographers.

You immediately notice the change in his facial expression and gently stroke his arm with your free hand, comforting him, watching him with understanding and giving him all the support you can, letting him know that this is what you are here for and that he is not alone.

Aemond feels a little more reassured to feel your touch and closeness, feeling lucky to have you by his side at this crucial important moment in his life's work.

He doesn't even understand how he had thought of coming here earlier by himself, without you. He doesn't know what he would have done.

However, good times can't last forever.

Confused you watch through the car windows as Criston continues to drive slowly along, passing the main entrance to the hall where all the businessmen and also women with their companions have their pictures and videos taken.

Thing you've done with Aemond before but… now it looks like that won't be the case.

"Where are we going?"

"Love, I need you to do this for me."

You ask him watching him with your frown, to which Aemond looks nervous, anguished and sorrowful, holding his hand more firmly with yours.

Then you watch how Cole parks at another entrance on the other side of the hotel…. where there is absolutely no one, just security guards.

He starts to say to you as he gets fully incorporated in the seat, leaning towards you, not letting go of your hand and speaking to you in a rushed tone out of nerves, as you turn your gaze to him confused.

"I need you to go through that door, Hel should already be waiting for you. I'll meet you in there, okay?"

His words definitely throw you off, watching him with great attention and slight surprise.

"Why?"

He stirs in his seat as he sees the confusion in your eyes, also as little by little sadness begins to creep in, feeling more anguished than before but having to ask this of you, even though he doesn't agree.

"It will only be for this moment, I promise. Once we meet in there, we'll be together."

"But why don't you want me to come in together with you?"

He lets out a long breath, starting to worry.

And despite his explanation, you can't help but feel sad and annoyed as you watch him still intently with your brows furrowed, not saying or doing anything for a few seconds, the realization becoming clearer.

"It's not that I don't want love, it's just that my grandsire has asked to take pictures of us with Rivers and his uncle."

He explains to you with a sad look.

"And I don't want them to take pictures of you standing apart and start publishing them in magazines talking things about you. At least there's no one here and it will be safer."

"Sir, we have to go now. They're waiting for you."

Cole alerts him from the pilot's seat, watching you in the rearview mirror, and Aemond again watches you, insistent and concerned.

"Love, please," he murmurs to you under his breath.

You avoid looking him in the eye as you now resignedly let go of his hands almost abruptly and coldly and then grab your handbag and begin to quickly exit the car.

You lower your gaze as you press your lips together, feeling the discomfort coursing through your body, trying to control your true emotions, but you can't.

You definitely didn't expect this.

Aemond lets out a long breath.

"Please don't be angry, love."

He tells you pleading and sad, but you don't look at him or say anything to him, you just get out of the car and close the door to quickly head to the huge door with a lump in your throat and with a sharp pain in your chest.

You truly understand the importance of this event for him and the company, you were the one who insisted on coming too, but you definitely didn't deserve this, to be hidden away as if you were an intruder and didn't belong here.

And Aemond at all times is not calm and has barely started the night.

Once he gets out of the car, as you also enter the hall where the whole event will be held, inside and outside the bustle of the crowd and conversations fill the air.

He meets his grandsire, Alys Rivers and Larys Strong, while you meet Helaena.

You also see other family members of Aemond that you also know, like his half-sister Rhaenyra and his uncle Daemon Targaryen, also his nephews and cousins, his mother and his brothers, Aegon and Daeron.

Even Helaena didn't know she would be so busy, apologizing to you for how little time you have to catch up, but you assure her that all is well, when the truth is not.

You thought that with them everything would be easier to get along with, like before, especially after what just happened, since you always got along well with his family.

But this event is too important since the Targaryens are the center of attention and everyone is busy, even the cousins and nephews.

The whole place is absolutely grand and elegant, the whole atmosphere has an aura of prestige and sophistication like all the people present.

The room has tall, wide windows that offer breathtaking views of the city, illuminated by the night lights, as the hotel is located in the upper suburbs.

At one end of the hall there is a raised stage where presentations and speeches will take place, there is also sound and projection equipment, also an area for the press. But for the moment, there is a group of musicians.

Silk tapestries add touches of warmth and luxury throughout, as well as large crystal chandeliers hang from the high vaulted ceiling, casting flashes of light.

There are tables carefully decorated with white linen tablecloths, as well as comfortable and elegant chairs with high backs.

Finally there is the luxurious bar, where drinks are free and there are two male bar tenders at disposal.

You head there, wanting to have a drink to calm your spirits, unconsciously waiting for Aemond, being here alone and not feeling… not at all well.

There are already a considerable number of people entering the hall, all the businessmen with their wives, sons and daughters, also their assistants, while you watch as all the Targaryen greet everyone and are cordial with elegance in their clothes, postures and out-of-this-world appearance.

While you stand apart, sipping your glass of wine, observing everything. Then you take your phone from your bag to entertain yourself for a moment, when then, Aemond appears.

But not alone, but with Alys Rivers.

This doesn't bother you, on the contrary, Aemond was completely honest with you telling you that they wanted to take pictures of the two of them and that's what happens, while you see him with his serious and cold face standing at the entrance with her and then a small part of the press inside the room taking more pictures of them.

But that's not what catches your attention or what bothers you, what does is that this woman is wearing a dress the same color as yours.

You hide your surprise very well while at the same time a mixture of emotions completely overwhelms your inner self, watching how she poses and smiles with such elegance towards the cameras next to him, completely pleased.

It seems that she is his companion, not you.

Compared to your dress, hers is completely fitted to her body and reaches above her knees, wearing black high heels, with her hair pulled back in an elegant bun with black locks falling on either side of her face.

While yours is completely long and a little looser without straps, wearing silver high heels with your hair completely loose styled in slight waves. (click here)

Normally the color of the dress wouldn't have mattered to you, but you see the way she poses and behaves with him in front of the press, while those people with their cameras ask them for more and look pleased too, asking them to be closer to each other.

It really looks like she is his escort, totally overshadowing you.

At that moment, your self-confidence fades and discomfort comes over you, also annoyance. You try to keep your composure but the tension all over your body is too much, instantly looking away from them and feeling an incredible urge to cry.

It's just a dress, don't overreact.

You tell yourself, saying you shouldn't react, not here, not now knowing that this is important to Aemond and his family, that you are really his companion, not her and that eventually everyone will see that.

But you can't help it… you feel humiliated.

You take a huge gulp from your wine glass, averting your gaze from everything and everyone, focusing on the city lights through the large windows, enduring more of the urge to cry and let out everything you're feeling.

Though clearly Aemond doesn't have a hard time finding you all over the hall.

"Hey."

You hear him approach and he gently takes your arm and turns you towards him, watching you with full attention, while you take the last sip of your glass of wine, watching him afterwards without emotion.

"Hey."

You look away and call the bar tender, asking him to refill your drink, still feeling the discomfort all over your body as Aemond knows perfectly well how you must be feeling.

And he watches you hopefully, wanting you to say something, anything, even giving you his full attention, wanting to be with you and only you after such a stressful and unnecessary entrance to this boring event.

But nothing. You don't say or do anything to him.

"Love, I'm so sorry," he tells you honest and sad.

Again you say nothing to him, acting completely unconcerned, your face neutral and emotionless.

"Seriously, about before I didn't want to do it but my grandsire insisted and she…" he pauses, letting out a long breath as he runs a hand over his face, "I'm sorry. If I had known I would have—

"Don't worry about it."

You interrupt him, not wanting to talk about it anymore, certainly because you don't want to ruin his night any more and you don't want to stress him out any more when he must be getting enough to do and take care of tonight.

But he insists.

"I know you're upset and—

"I know perfectly well when you're lying to me."

"I'm not upset."

"I'm not upset. I haven't even said anything."

You tell him still watching him emotionlessly, clearly wanting to make yourself look as believable as possible with your words. Then at that moment the bar tender hands you your glass of wine and you begin to drink, going back to watching everyone.

But Aemond continues to watch you intently, concerned.

"Then say something, anything, please."

And that's when you start to react, starting to get annoyed with his attitude.

"And what do you want me to say?" you snap at him quietly, "I told you I'm not upset."

'At least not with you, just with the situation,' that's what you really want to say.

But you stay quiet, wanting to end the conversation once and for all, as you tried to do from the beginning but he keeps insisting.

"I don't know Y/N, just tell me something, whatever you want, but make it true," he also whispers quietly, moving closer to you to create more privacy between the two of you in public.

"Y/N! There you are, my dear!"

And before you can say anything back to him, at that moment a third voice interrupts the small discussion as it approaches towards both of you.

Alicent Hightower exclaims with a huge charming smile, sporting a beautiful emerald green dress and extravagant hairstyle, instantly enclosing you in a gentle but firm embrace which you reciprocate, now putting on your best face.

"Ah finally I see you after so long," she says lovingly in your ear, "I'm so sorry we couldn't talk when you arrived, as you can see we're all busy and it's crazy, like every time. But I'm so happy to see you."

She tells you as she pulls away from you and continues to watch you with her soft, comforting smile.

"Don't worry, I totally understand," you assure her with a small smile, "You look beautiful."

"Oh! Thank you," she observes to herself, still smiling, "You too my dear, absolutely beautiful."

You widen your smile a little more, for a moment feeling embarrassed since also a certain woman is wearing the same color as you, but you quickly push that thought away.

"Thank you so much."

"Come," she says to both of you, without letting go of your hand, "Rhaenyra has told me she wants to greet you, so does Daeron, before it all begins."

And this is what puts the discussion you were having with Aemond to a complete pause.

He follows you instantly, while you soon greet his half-sister and nephews, starting to catch up with all of them, also his cousins, Baela and Rhaena, who have always been absolutely charming and fun with you.

You also greet Aegon, who comes accompanied by his girlfriend, Cassandra Baratheon, where you know they are only dating because of an arrangement between his grandsire and her father, as the Baratheons also own an important company and thanks to their relationship, the two companies have partnered up.

You then talk to Daeron, who tells you that he is about to enter college along with Luke, his nephew, and then a very animated and happy Helaena joins in the conversation, the two of them making you totally forget everything that happened as soon as you and Aemond arrived at the hotel.

In fact when you and Helaena talk alone again, she mentions to you quietly that everyone knows what her grandsire is trying to do with Aemond and Alys Rivers, telling you right away that she doesn't agree nor does anyone else for that matter, only him.

She also tells you not to be intimidated by him, much less by that woman by briefly mentioning about the dress since of course she has noticed and assures you that you are not alone in any of this.

You are quite relieved and comforted by this, as you had given up hope the moment you saw Alys so pleased at Aemond's side, but now hearing this… it really makes you feel very relieved.

Then the whole event begins.

You take a seat next to Aemond at one of the tables that are right in front of the stage along with his entire family, as well as the other guests, while Otto Hightower takes the microphone and gives a brief welcome.

Aemond next to you takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, wanting to feel your touch despite what happened a few moments ago between the two of you and you leave him, where neither of you say anything.

Then businessmen begin to take the stage, each speaking on key topics in the banking industry, such as financial regulation, investments, digital banking, risk management, fintech technology and more.

These presentations are given by industry experts and thought leaders, including Otto Hightower and Larys Strong, the uncle of Alys Rivers.

Even Helaena takes the stage to talk about new acquisitions in Highgarden's company, also Daemon with Rhaenyra Targaryen.

They also offer the opportunity to pitch projects or seek investments related to banking, they also talk about acquisitions, mergers or strategic collaborations.

They also again talk about financial technology.

When it then comes time for all the businessmen to focus on establishing relationships that can lead to business opportunities, collaborations and alliances with other businessmen.

Aemond tells you that he will be back in a moment, telling you briefly that he will speak with Rodrik Greyjoy, also an important businessman who is the head of the Pike company, the most important company in the Iron Islands.

You just nod and he leaves, then you think you might talk to Hel or Daeron, even Jace or Baela for the moment, but as you watch them, the entire Targaryen family is again busy talking to different men with their wives and children.

You let out a long breath and stand there alone for a few moments observing everything around you, then decide to approach the bar again and order a glass of wine, which is what you usually always drink when you feel uneasy and anxious.

And standing with your glass again you observe everything, focusing on Aemond for a moment, watching him talking to Greyjoy, both a bit more apart from all the people and looking both very serious and professional with what they must be talking about.

You don't know how long you last like that, just standing there and nothing else, not really doing anything, just asking the bar tender to refill your glass every so often, making sure to always drink small amounts of your wine.

When then you notice it.

Being alone in a secluded corner of the huge hall, you see how two women a few meters away from you in long and more than elegant dresses, wearing valuable jewelry and with a look of superiority and also a little mocking, watching you.

This confuses you and catches your attention at the same time, watching out of the corner of your eye as both watch you from head to toe and talk quietly among themselves without disguise, you not understanding anything.

You observe yourself, wondering if there is something out of place in your appearance, since appearance is what matters most in events like these, but everything is still fine with you, so you do not understand what it is that draws their attention to you.

However, in the face of this you again feel your nerves coming and your confidence fading, feeling uncomfortable, out of place and with anxiety all over your body.

You turn around, leaning your elbows on the counter as you bite your lips and try to calm yourself, feeling that suddenly all eyes are on you, not understanding what is wrong with you.

When a voice speaks in your direction.

"I'm surprised to see you here, Y/N."

You leave your drink on the bar and turn around, coming face to face with Otto Hightower, who is also wearing a smart suit and has a serious, cold look on his face that shows unconformity in your direction.

And you have no idea what to say to him.

How is he surprised to see you here if you've come to these events before with Aemond?

"It's not what you wanted, I guess," you tell him with a certain bitter and serious tone, speaking to him in the same way he is speaking to you.

He bites the inside of his cheek, then settles next to you with an appropriate distance, calling the bar tender and asking for a glass of white wine, while you watch him intently throughout.

"No, of course it's not what I wanted and I'm relieved that at least you understand that," he finally tells you, serious and direct, "I told Aemond perfectly well that he shouldn't have brought you, but he's just as stubborn as his brother."

You bite your lips, avoiding speaking to him in a ruder tone than you should and also avoiding saying what you really want so as not to cause real trouble, with annoyance starting to course through your body.

"I'm his girlfriend," you tell him seriously and in a reminder tone.

"And this is work," he replies in kind, "And serious work. Something you wouldn't understand from working in a coffee shop."

You let out a snort.

"Are you trying to put me down?" you stare at him incredulously.

"I'm just being honest and seeing things as they really are," he says and doesn't give you a chance to speak, "My grandson is a successful man, just like his family. And he should surround himself with people just like him. Believe me I have made sure he is where he is now and I care deeply about his future," he says with a condescending tone, "Don't you?"

"Of course I do," you tell him instantly, "I've done nothing but support him."

He gives a fake smile.

"That's good to hear, exactly what I would expect from you, but I want you to understand one thing and I want you to get it right, Y/N."

He begins to tell you with his eyes never ceasing to look directly into yours, glowing with a cold and more than willing determination, his posture demanding power over you, making you feel small as you continue to watch him intently.

"You don't belong in this world," he tells you menacingly, "I've tolerated this nonsense from you and him long enough, but now that he is his father's successor and is in a higher position and with a promising future, I won't tolerate it anymore," he makes it clear to you, "You can't really offer anything important to Aemond and that's what we need, assurance and alliances for the good of the company."

He tells you in the cruelest tone of all, where even though you try to remain calm, you begin to feel insecure and lose your composure as you listen intently, feeling a sharp pain in your chest.

"And that's exactly what Alys Rivers can offer him."

Then your shoulders drop, your whole posture ceases to feel tense from the defeat invading you and you feel a deep ache all through you, feeling utterly small, helpless and vulnerable.

You lower your gaze with your lips parted, trying to control all your emotions as you feel your eyes glaze over and you feel a painful lump in your throat, not wanting to cry now in this place with him continuing to watch you intently.

Then you press your lips together in an expression of anguish and humiliation, unable to help yourself.

"Our family has built a reputation and that's the most important thing to us. And you don't fit in, you're just not of use, now do you understand what I mean?" he tells you expectantly.

But despite how he is making you feel, you try to defend yourself.

"Is money and reputation really more important to you? Don't you care about his happiness?"

"Aemond is not going to live on love, silly girl, neither the company," he tells you instantly annoyed, "So I hope that for the sake of him and his work, you will be the one to decide to end the relationship since he certainly won't," he tells you bitterly, "Alys Rivers is starting to lose patience and there is no way I am going to lose the opportunity of association with her company, have you understood?"

You watch him without saying anything, still with your sad look and also with the surprise to see his determination, the how he really doesn't care about Aemond's feelings, while he throws you his hateful look and continues to watch you more than threatening.

When then the sound of the microphone catches everyone's attention, also yours and his, watching the stage.

"Hum… excuse me? May I have your attention for a moment, ladies and gentlemen, please?"

Alys Rivers speaks, starting to get the attention of all the people who stop talking and focus on her, while you still feel all your overwhelming emotions.

"Good evening everyone, it's a pleasure to be here present with all of you," she smiles elegantly to the whole audience, clasping her hands together in front of her, "For those who don't know me, I introduced myself, I'm Alys Rivers, co-owner of the Riverlands company, nice to meet you."

She says as she radiates confidence and determination, reflecting her commitment and enthusiasm, as you watch the business wives smile at her throughout.

"I would like to take this moment to announce a very early association that I am still working on together with my company partner, Larys Strong," she says without stopping smiling at any moment, looking very happy and excited "So I would like to call to the stage my very soon to be partner, Mr. Aemond Targaryen."

Thunderous applause from all present can be heard throughout the hall, while you watch as Aemond smiles politely throughout as he walks up to the stage and makes his way to stand next to her, who also claps in his direction and watches him proudly.

And so together they appear confident and authoritative, as if they own the whole place, while Aemond waves and thanks the whole audience at the same time.

Then the applause fades and Alys speaks again.

"It is also an honor to announce before all of you, a collaboration of our two companies," she says proudly, "Since I first met Aemond, his vision and ethics impressed me deeply. We have shared many conversations and have discovered that our companies have common goals and values."

Aemond at her side nods in approval and continues.

"Our companies, Riverlands Group and Targaryen Incorporation have been at the forefront of financial innovation for years. So we have decided to join forces to empower our organizations."

Then Alys says something else, but you don't pay attention as Otto Hightower again speaks in your direction.

"Now you see?"

He says to you and you again feel that sharp pain in your chest as you turn your gaze to Alys and Aemond.

"That's the way things should be, the two of them together, a perfect complementation," he says confidently, "Even all the people here are pleased to see them together, the press too, that's what they expect, not a coffee shop employee next to the next head of the most important company in the country."

Each of his words and also the ones from before are like a dagger to your heart, feeling sadness, shame, humiliation and anguish.

The feeling is horrible, especially because you see how again all the people applaud for the two of them and the press starts taking pictures of the two of them together, while you feel trapped in a whirlwind of negative emotions that consumes you completely.

You watch as Aemond doesn't approach her at all, but she does, placing one of her hands on his arm, smiling and posing for the cameras, while you watch as Aemond tries to subtly pull away from her, but she won't let him.

You also know he won't say anything to her at that moment, not when the eyes of everyone in the place are on them and so are the cameras, so they continue to pose for more pictures to be taken.

"Enjoy the rest of the night."

Otto tells you with the fakest look and words of all, watching you for one last time then turning away from you and back to the crowd, complacently watching the show his grandson is putting on along with Alys Rivers.

And when you watch him walk away, at that moment you notice it again, the stares of the women.

This time you see how they and their husbands look in your direction, with curious looks and others with equally mocking looks, whispering among themselves, all of them watching you from head to toe, making you feel even worse.

They make you feel as if you are an intruder, as if you are the one who is wrong to be here, as if you are not Aemond's girlfriend and instead they accept Alys, looking at you as the bad guy, even with pity.

Then you feel you can't take it anymore and decide you've had enough.

Completely humiliated, you turn away from the bar and start looking all over the place for Cole, who you find at the main entrance along with more security guards, heading towards him quickly.

"Ms. Y/N?"

He says to you as you stand in front of him.

"Can you take me home?" you ask or rather plead, "I'm not feeling well."

"Do you need me to get you something?" he asks you instantly, willing.

"No, just take me home, please."

"Of course but Mr. Targaryen knows?"

"Yes," you lie, "You'll have to come back to pick him up."

Finally you convince him and both of you go to the door where you entered instead of the main door since the press is still outside.

And not having the courage or the spirit to say goodbye to anyone, not even Helaena, you finally leave the place.

Meanwhile Aemond continues taking pictures and enduring the flash of the cameras every second, slyly taking Rivers' hands off him, acting unconcerned and willing when inside he wants it all to be over.

When in the middle of all the commotion, he catches a perfect glimpse of your figure walking out of the event through the doors he asked you to enter with Cole by your side, without even looking back, this catching his attention and confusing him instantly.

He is about to apologize to quickly go after you, not liking that at all, feeling a bad feeling, starting to worry, but a hand on his shoulder stops him.

"They want to take pictures of the whole family together."

He turns his head and finds his grandfather, whom he instantly watches attentively and curiously.

He watches all the people around him for a moment as everything is a mess as everyone wants to take pictures and videos, but in the end he leans over to talk to him, trying to create privacy.

"Why did Y/N leave?"

"She leave?" he repeats acting surprised and confused, "I don't know, son. I didn't even notice. Now come on."

"I saw you talking to her," he tells him instantly, insistent.

"We didn't really talk much, now come on, this is important."

He tells him also serious and insistent, making him stand still for the press to start taking pictures of the two of them with Alys Rivers and Larys Strong, then the whole Targaryen family and so on with other businessmen.

But all the time Aemond is not calm, not at all.

Until after a while he sees Cole re-enter the hall, so he quickly makes his way towards him.

"Where is Y/N?" he asks him with bewilderment in his eyes and in his tone of voice, concerned.

Cole frowns.

"Sir, she said she was feeling sick and wanted me to take her home."

"And why didn't you tell me?" he snaps at him instantly, slightly annoyed.

"I'm sorry Sir, but she said you knew."

And at that moment Aemond knows that's definitely not good.

He lets out a long breath and runs a hand over his face, beginning to feel frustrated, only to have his mother walk over to him at that moment and take him with her to have a conversation with the Arryn's, reluctantly having to stay, feeling uneasy every moment as he wants this all to be over so he can come to you.

But the night is far from over.

And it is not until two hours later that people begin to say goodbye to leave, so Aemond takes advantage and also decides to leave, since he sent you severe messages at certain times but you did not respond to any, this stressing him and worrying him more.

So once he is able to leave, he quickly together with Cole start to leave the hall, but Eleonor hurriedly stops him.

"I'm sorry Sir, but aren't you supposed to stay? Here I have the card for the suite you asked me to book," she raises the card in her hand, looking at him confused.

Aemond feels a sharp pain in his chest, not having the slightest idea what happened with you as to decide to leave without telling him anything, but he knows it's no good, besides the fact that his grandfather's attitude seemed suspicious to him.

And he can't help but feel annoyed.

He knows you haven't spent any time together and he thought it would be a good idea to book a suite for the two of you without telling you anything, wanting it to be a surprise, but now it's all ruined and he doesn't even know why.

"No, Y/N is gone," he tells her with frustration visible all over his body and gaze, "You use it or cancel it or whatever, it doesn't matter anymore."

And without further ado he resumes his walk, wanting to get to you as soon as possible.

You hate the loneliness in which you find yourself.

When you get to the apartment, you want to leave immediately, thinking for a moment that you should have asked Cole to drop you off at Floris or Sarah's house.

You put on your sleeping clothes and take your pillow and a sheet to go back to the living room and get comfortable on the huge couch, wanting to sleep and forget about everything.

In fact that's what you think now, maybe call one of them and ask them to pick you up. But the hour is already late and you don't want to bother them.

So the only thing you do is to take off your make-up and your dress where at all times you still feel the discomfort and humiliation running through your whole body, feeling also a helplessness.

But unfortunately that's not what happens.

What happens is that you can no longer control all the feelings and emotions you felt since Aemond asked you to enter the event through other doors and you finally let it all out, starting to cry silently even though you are alone.

You don't know how long you last like that but you cry until you fall asleep, hugging one of the couch cushions tightly in the darkness of the huge apartment.

Some time later Aemond finally arrives home, so in a hurry he rushes into the apartment with all his anguished and worried look on his face, wanting to see you and talk to you, heading purposefully into the bedroom.

But he definitely didn't expect to find you asleep on the living room couch.

Never before have either of you had the need and desire to sleep apart, not even after having a fight, so surprise comes over him and he watches you sound asleep there… on the couch instead of the bed.

He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what has happened, and doesn't know what to think.

He understands that you were very upset with him for what he asked you to do so that is one reason, also Rivers' colored dress, but what happened next?

He doesn't know and he's very frustrated that he doesn't know, he's also frustrated by the whole situation.

And he can't stand it. He can't stand seeing you lying there asleep, not wanting to sleep with him.

He takes off his jacket without taking his eye off you at all times, leaving it on the back of the single couch and carefully walks over to you, where again his heart breaks at the sight of the dried tears on your cheeks and also the cushion you are hugging wetly.

Immediately he feels guilty, so gently, he kneels beside you and watches you for a few seconds sadly, asleep in a ball, with an expression of exhaustion on your face.

You blink then carve your eyes, getting used to the night light to try to see, when Aemond's cologne hits your nostrils and you look up at him over your face with a confused expression.

He swallows hard and leans over you to hold you in his arms gently and carry you to bed without waking you. He puts one arm under your knees and the other under your back, trying to lift you gently.

But because of the movement and also from feeling his hands on your body, you wake up.

"What are you doing?" you ask him sleepily.

"I'm putting you to bed, love."

You frown and immediately place your whole body hard and tense, removing his hands from your body.

"No, I want to stay here."

He lets out a long breath.

"Come on, let's go to bed."

"No."

"Love, please."

"I already told you no, Aemond."

You tell him in a more serious and completely annoyed tone, as he watches sadly and worriedly as you make your intention clear and again cover yourself with the sheet, turning your back on him with your annoyed expression.

He feels more the anguish of being this way with you, the feelings of frustration and loneliness taking hold of him, feeling helpless in the face of the situation.

He misses you completely, your closeness, mutual support and communication, because this just makes everything even worse, not being able to work things out, you leaving his side, having this physical and emotional distance.

Aemond feels like the person he loves is slipping through his fingers and there is nothing he can do to stop it.

"Y/N please," he insists once again, hating the situation and the feelings it brings, "Let's go to bed, you know I won't be able to fall asleep without you by my side."

"Let me sleep," you tell him seriously and curtly, still turning your back to him.

"Love."

Aemond calls you one last time, feeling the negative emotions invade him even more at that moment, feeling hopeless, but he stops when he sees that you are firm with your decision and he can't do anything about it, feeling more constant the sharp pain in his chest.

And so you ignore him, trying to go back to sleep.

So Aemond has no choice but to heartbrokenly retreat to the bedroom and leave you alone in the living room.

The next morning, the horrible sound of your alarm wakes you up, telling you that you have to get ready for work.

Not having slept enough the night before and remembering everything that happened, you're annoyed and defeated as you lie there for a few minutes staring at the ceiling, not having the energy for anything at all.

But knowing that you can't afford to miss work, you have no choice but to get up.

However, it strikes you that the coffee pot in the kitchen is not on, because even though Aemond has the day off, he still locks himself in his office to get a lot of his work done, and coffee is essential for him to be more productive.

So curious and cautious, you head to the room, seeing that the door is open.

And when you slowly peek your head out, you see Aemond on the edge of the bed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, looking in a tired state and as if he hadn't slept all night.

You press your lips together, as you don't want to talk about what happened, at least not yet. But you know that avoiding it won't be easy.

You know it when Aemond catches a glimpse of your slowly moving figure out of the corner of his eye, so he raises his gaze and his eye looks directly into yours.

You instantly react, avert your gaze from him and head to the closet with a hurried step to grab clean clothes while he watches you attentively and pleadingly at all times, wanting this silence and tension between the two of you to end.

"Y/N—

He couldn't sleep all night and the restlessness so far hasn't left him alone, so he's exhausted and doesn't plan to do any work today because he simply can't.

But he wants to try to fix about last night.

He calls softly to you in a careful tone but you quickly cut him off.

"I'm going to shower."

You say hurriedly but with no encouragement in your voice and quickly walk past him, entering the bathroom and closing the door behind you, leaving him alone with those bad thoughts in his mind, letting out a sigh as he brings his hands to his face, frustrated and tired.

It's not until an hour after you finish getting ready to leave for work that you see Aemond in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water, finding it strange that he's not locked in his office, but you don't ask him anything about it.

And when you finish making sure you bring all your stuff in your bag, like your phone, keys and wallet, Aemond watches you cautiously throughout, still feeling that weight on his shoulders and that ache in his chest for not being on good terms with you.

"I can drive you."

He tells you suddenly, softly and in a calm voice, this catching your attention but you don't even notice him, instantly hurrying to get out of the apartment soon.

"It's okay. I don't want to slow you down at work."

"I'm not going to work today," he lets you know, this surprising you, but you hide it and don't react.

But you still reject him.

"There's no need. Don't worry."

And so you head for the door, walking out of the apartment, leaving him behind.

This of course hurts Aemond, as you've never turned him down on this sort of thing before, feeling really bad.

Still he later texts you asking if you need him to pick you up, but again you turn him down telling him that Sophie, your co-worker, will do you the favor, when in fact you take the bus.

And once you get home, there is still this tension and silence between the two of you, which feels horrible, but above all it feels more horrible to Aemond, who even though he tries to talk to you about it, you don't let him, cutting him off instantly, excusing yourself with other things.

That night you sleep in bed together with him, relieving him that he didn't want to go another full night without sleep, but you both sleep completely apart, not touching each other.

That's unusual, he's just never been through anything like that before and of course he hugs you and tries to talk to you in the comfort of your bed, but you don't respond to his touch.

You let him hug you but you don't hug him back, turning your back on him, making it clear that you don't want to be that way with him. So he can only let out a sigh and pull away, respecting your decision and your space even though it hurts.

But he can't take this anymore.

The next day at work he goes looking for his grandfather, serious and willing, entering his office without knocking and closing the door without much tact, watching him with annoyance all over his face.

Otto Hightower looks up from some papers on his desk and embodies an eyebrow at him, expectant and slightly confused.

"Can I help you?"

"What did you say to Y/N?

He inquires her instantly, getting straight to the point, serious and annoyed. But of course, Otto Hightower feigns an innocent expression on his face.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me," he warns, "I know you talked to her and I want to know what you told her."

"Aemond," he lets out a sigh, "If you're having problems with your girlfriend, you don't want to try to get me in on your fights—

"It's no coincidence that she left that fucking event right after I saw her talking to you, so tell me what it was you said to her," he demands again, more serious than before.

Otto shakes his head, even with the innocent expression lingering.

"I told you we didn't even talk much. We just talked about your future, the things you're accomplishing and in the end I told her to enjoy the rest of the night, that's all. So maybe you should be more concerned about why your dear girlfriend walks out of a very important event for you leaving you alone, like she doesn't care."

Aemond can't help the frustration and anger that begins to grow inside him.

"I know you're lying."

"You're misunderstanding things."

"She's not talking to me! She's upset and I don't even know why, she doesn't want to tell me!" he exclaims angrily, completely losing his patience.

And his grandfather just watches him silently with a serious look, not saying anything else to him and this causing more frustration and annoyance to Aemond who quickly walks towards him, placing his hands on his desk and leaning towards him with a threatening face.

"I don't know what happened but I know you said things to her," he makes it clear, his tone serious, "You made me hurt her to not only ruin the night for me, but for her as well—

"Aemond—

"Or what?" he interrupts him as well, not letting him speak, "You think I don't know all the effort you're putting into trying to further increase the rumors between Rivers and I with the press? In how you're interfering between me and her by getting Rivers in the way? And all because you don't want to lose a fucking association with a company at the cost of ruining my relationship?"

Otto Hightower slowly rises from his chair, watching him just as seriously and menacingly.

"An association that believe me you don't want to lose either, Aemond."

He makes it clear to him slowly, with an obvious and equally menacing look, leaving Aemond silent for a moment.

"We could never partner with Dorne, so partnering with Riverlands is all we have left, because after all, before long you'll be the new boss or am I wrong?"

"If you lose it… it could cost us millions," he reminds him slowly and clearly, "And you risk not only your own future as an businessman, but the future of all of us, your family, the partnerships with the other companies, the employees and the legacy we've built. And obviously I can't allow that to fall apart."

He inquires and Aemond swallows hard, feeling a knot in his stomach, knowing full well that his father's health is getting worse every day.

And everyone knows, his mother, his brothers, uncles, aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, everyone… that it's only a matter of time.

"But there are other ways, there are—

Aemond shrugs and clenches his hands tightly into fists as Otto watches him harshly, the room feeling charged with tension.

"We will go bankrupt, Aemond! What don't you understand!?"

Explodes Otto furiously.

""Your father left a lot of work pending since he got sick and now you are his successor, which you are lucky that I am breaking my back for you to help you, to save from now on your reputation and the company that will be under your command when the time comes. And that you don't want to help me in the same way for not learning to separate personal relationships from your work, is not my problem."

"We will go into crisis if we don't get Riverlands, we will lose income, we will have a lot of debt, our companies in Oldtown, Lannisport, Stom's End, in the Vale and in Winterfell we will lose them. And Riverlands has partnerships in Essos as well as Dorne, so understand what's at stake," he continues in a harsh tone, "Do you want Helaena to lose Highgarden and Winterfell or your mother to stop running the company in Oldtown? Do you really want to lose everything we've built? Is that what you want to happen, Aemond?"

Aemond's heart begins to pound, he lowers his gaze and with his jaw clenched he thinks about it, he feels anxiety and deep bewilderment. He thinks of his sister, his mother, his brothers, his whole family, everything they have built.

Otto's words echo in his head in a constant echo and suddenly… he feels trapped, cornered in his own life, helpless.

At that moment he craves a respite, that need for peace, he needs you by his side, the woman he loves and the one who can give him that comfort zone.

But you are not there, everything suddenly feels lost and he also feels that everything is wrong, and he is instantly overcome with frustration, sadness, anger and an overwhelming sense of vulnerability.

Aemond really clings to his own determination, determined not to give in to his grandfather's threats, but he knows he's right about everything about the company and his family. And he really feels trapped, because he doesn't know what to do about Alys Rivers and her company.

So he can only place a bitter smile and shake his head, his mind a mess.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?"

He tells her as he begins to walk away from him, starting to pace around the room slowly as he runs a hand over his face, placing it on his chin.

"You leave all this burden to me, because you want to take advantage of me just like what you did with Aegon and Cassandra."

Otto rolls his eyes, watching him just as annoyed and bored as before.

"If you don't want to learn how to work this kind of thing out's, I don't understand why you're going to be the next boss."

"No, of course I can work this kind of thing out," he makes it clear, serious, watching him annoyed, "Just not in this dirty way."

"Alys Rivers is a very demanding, perfectionist and exacting person, just like her uncle. So if she wants to try to maintain an intimate relationship with you, you're going to let her, for the good of the company. Or at least pretend, pretend you're interested in her too so you can sign that fucking paper once and for all."

Aemond looks at him completely disgusted, badly and with a scowl on his face, watching him as if he doesn't know him.

"You are… completely disgusting."

"I'm teaching you how to survive in all of this and also how to keep the company afloat," he makes it clear to him, his other way of looking at things.

"You only think about yourself, money and reputation. You don't care about my feelings, my relationship and that I'm hurting Y/N."

"No, I don't care, because the company is not going to sustain itself otherwise," he tells him simply, nonchalantly, "And if your girlfriend can't understand this, your job, your future and that we can't fail, then I don't understand why you're still with her. You have to make sacrifices in order to live, and that's something you better start understanding now."

Yes… Aemond knows he will have to make sacrifices. It's the first thing his father told him since it was ruled that he would be the Heir.

But Aemond told himself from the beginning that if those sacrifices were his family or his relationship with you, he will go to great lengths to keep his family out of it and you too, because he is not willing to lose you.

He wants to be worthy of you, treat you like you deserve, give you the world and keep you by his side, because the last thing he wants because of his desperate grandfather and a reckless woman is for the relationship to no longer work.

He knows it won't be easy, but he will do the impossible.

Although… the breaking point is near.

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#aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond

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jjkamochoso · 16 days

Text

Pretty as a Picture

Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

Fluff

When you’re exploring Marley with Levi and co., you find yourself enthralled with some new technology…

Warnings: cussing

When you and the others left for Marley, you had no idea what you were getting yourselves into. You were terrified that the outside world was going to be a vision of disaster and leave your high expectations completely unmet. However, when the boat began to dock at the port and you got a glimpse of the bustling city, you practically had stars in your eyes.

“Hange! This is so exciting! Look at all the new developments!” you gushed, taking in the foreign sights. They agreed wholeheartedly, rambling about certain things they had read about over the years that were going to be investigated today. Levi wanted to roll his eyes at your over the top excitement, but he had to admit he was very curious about life in Marley as well. As the boat started letting people off, you nervously ran your fingers over your outfit, desperately trying to straighten out the high quality fabric of your disguise.

“Are you trying to impress these people or something? Stop fussing. You look fine,” Levi said, leading the way off the boat without giving you a second glance. You looked at Hange, who just shrugged their shoulders and ran after Levi. You and the Survey Corps captain were in the newer stages of a relationship. You had known him for years, rising up the ranks together, and had shared a close bond for most of that time. Not too long ago, you both realized your relationship held the element of attraction for one another and after an awkward confession from the both of you, your deep companionship turned into a budding romance. It was all new territory for both parties, neither of you having much experience in the dating department, and the two of you were trying to figure out the right balance between your old selves and new title as lovers. You tried not to worry too much; Levi didn’t seem the type to break up with someone. If he chose to be with you in a romantic way after being your friend for so long, you’d most likely be together long after your bodies were consumed by the soil of your shared grave.

You hurried off the boat, your party waiting for you with anxiousness to get the trip started. On solid ground once more, Levi took his usual spot next to you. You smiled internally at the gesture. This relationship would have no hand holding (for the foreseeable future), but his closeness, akin to a guard dog, was better than that. Out of the corner of your eye came a flash and both of your heads whipped around to see what it was.

“Hange!” You pointed to the area from which it came, “What is that?”

“That’s a camera! It makes photographs like the one we saw in Eren’s basement,” they explained.

“So cool,” you breathed out. “What I wouldn’t give to have one.”

You suddenly found yourself being dragged over to the camera, Levi having an iron grip on the extra fabric of your sleeve.

“My partner wants one photograph, please,” he told the man working the contraption.

The man laughed a little, clearly figuring out you weren’t from the area. “One photograph, huh? That’s quite alright.” He turned to address you. ��You can sit right here and pose.”

You nodded, slightly nervous but trembling with excitement as Levi handed the man the money.

“I’m going to count to three and when the flash is over, you’ll be good to go.”

You weren’t quite sure exactly what to do with your body as the man started his count but when you saw Levi watching you intently, you relaxed and broke out into the biggest smile. The flash went off and you were told to wait a few minutes for the photograph to be ready.

“Oh! Sir? May I please have one more? I would like one of my boyfriend,” you said, looking at Levi expectantly.

His eyes went wide, shaking his head. “No way. Your memory isn’t that shitty to where you’ll need one of these to remember what I look like, is it?”

You gave him the biggest puppy eyes and poutiest face you could muster. “Please, Levi? For me?”

He sighed, giving the cameraman more money. “Fine. But you have to be in it with me, brat.”

You cheered when he stood next to you, you on the seat once more, and you could tell he was nervous.

“Just relax and look at the circle in front of you. You don’t have to smile or anything if you don’t want, just think of a positive memory or place. That way it’ll look natural.”

As the man did his countdown, Levi frantically tried his best to look comfortable and right before the flash went off, he knew exactly what to do.

During your wait for the photos you heard commotion from the group about “ice cream” so of course you bounded over, Levi trailing behind you. When you got your hands on the treat, you took a big bite of it which was a huge mistake.

“It’s so cold! My teeth! Ouch!” you exclaimed, your mouth open as you tried to fan it out. Levi watched you complain to the teens that they didn’t give you a fair warning that it was freezing, a small smile on his face.

“Tch, give me that. You’re going to drop it,” he said, taking the cone from you. Learning from you the wrong way to eat it, he snuck a taste using just the tip of his tongue. It was cold, sweet, and a total waste of money—but if you liked it, he would gladly bring home the entire cart and the recipe. With plans to meet back up with everybody after you got your photographs, you and Levi headed over to the cameraman.

“That was very kind of you to let me get those taken,” you told him. “And I love that you did one with me. That means a lot, you know.”

“It’s no problem,” he muttered, eyeing every passerby so that they didn’t get any ideas of messing with you. His time in the Underground made it so that he hated being in large groups of people, crooks and crime always lurking about in those environments. He certainly didn’t want you to be swept up in any of it either, so his senses had been on high alert the entire trip. Thankfully that was the case or else right now you’d be splayed on the ground, grievously injured. Not from a criminal, but from some machine called a “car.” You two had to cross the street to get back to the cameraman but in your haste, you had forgotten there were technological advances you weren’t used to roaming around the city. You stepped off the sidewalk, chatting about something called a “balloon,” when a car came careening down the road, going much too fast for a busy pedestrian area. Levi had noticed it in the nick of time, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you out of harm’s way. He couldn’t even find it within himself to yell at the driver, too concerned for your well being.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hurriedly looking you over for injuries.

“Yeah, I’m fine, but,” you pointed sadly to the ground where your ice cream lost its life, “my ice cream isn’t.”

That earned a Levi eye roll. “Forget the food. If you keep up this carelessness, the photograph is the only thing I’ll have left of you after this trip.”

You sighed since he was right, as always. “I’m sorry.”

“Just pay attention. I’d hate for you to survive everything we’ve been through just to get taken out by some horse wannabe.”

You burst out laughing, Levi unintentionally lifting the mood. He never thought of himself as an overly funny guy but the way he had you gasping for breath after a hard hitting sarcastic remark would’ve made anyone certain he was a comedian.

The man with the camera handed you the finished products and you excitedly examined your solo one.

“Levi! Look! It’s my face!” You shoved the photograph toward him and he looked it over.

“It is, isn’t it?” he said, his voice laced with a hint of amusement and wonder. He tucked it into his hat for safekeeping (and he kept it on his person every day after that so you were always together; it had miraculously survived the blast from Zeke). When you saw the photograph of the both of you, you were at a loss for words.

“We look so… pretty. Happy. Normal.”

Levi caught a glance and hummed in agreement. He was ecstatic that his actions translated well through the camera. When the flash was about to go off, he had placed his hand on your shoulder.

“What?” you had asked him, turning away from the camera to look at him, thinking he had a question. Instead, you were greeted with steel blue eyes that were gazing lovingly at you, while Levi’s lips were curled into a soft smile. He was the epitome of handsome and you had practically melted, lovesickness etched all over your features and the camera flashed, capturing it forever.

“I’m keeping this one since you have the other one,” you said, tucking it in your chest pocket. “Me and my shitty memory want to make sure we remember this forever.”

You nudged Levi in a teasing manner and he just shook his head. Finding your way back to Hange, you felt a sense of peace wash over you that you didn’t think would be possible in foreign lands, and that was all thanks to Levi. Even if you didn’t always express your love in the most conventional ways, he proved his loyalty and trust in you time and time again. You hoped your photographs would be preserved and serve as proof that the so called island devils weren’t evil after all—they were people, too. People who could laugh and smile.

People who could love.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi fluff #levi ackerman x reader fluff #levi x reader #levi ackerman

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042502 · 26 days

Text

Photography // M.Sturniolo x Reader.

SYNOPSIS: After a meeting with friends, you and Matt have a sensual photography section. WARNINGS: Nude photographs, inappropriate language, sex, massages, a little jealousy, fetishes, feet. NOTES: My first language is not English, so if you find any grammatical errors you already know why :) avoid making offensive comments about it, If this is too much for you, Fuck off. MASTERLIST!!

I put me cell phone aside, after sending a message to Sophia, saying that you were already home. Me attention is completely focused on the figure of the boy leaning against the bedroom door frame, with the camera lens still looking at i and a smile on his lips. You strike a pose, taking the wine glass between my fingers before another click.

"Was it good?" I ask sitting on her calves.

Matt looks at the camera screen, still smiling widely, even a little goofy.

"You always turn out well" he praises me and I feel my cheeks hurt from laughing so much.

I see him approaching, sits in front of me, on the floor of the room. I stretch my legs towards Matt's body, and quickly grabs one of my feet to warm it with his palms. I'm sighing, feeling his thumb massaging a specific area of my bare sole.

I bring the wine glass to my lips to take a sip.

"Do you like me?" I try to find out, quietly. I hold the wine glass against my chin, feeling the coldness of the glass. thoughtfully.

"¿Mmm?”

"Your friends. Do they like me?"

Matt hangs his head in the corner.

"And who wouldn't like you, baby?"

"Sometimes I think I don't have much to add, my mood isn't very good" I begin to list.

"They love you, don't worry" he lifts your leg slightly to kiss my heel "And you? You like him?"

I Smile.

"Yes," I reply. "They're fun. Nate is hilarious”

"It's a good thing Chris didn't drink, and was able to take him home."

"Sophia is very pretty and nice. I think we can be friends... And Madi too, she's fun" Before taking another sip, i lifts her other foot so Matt can massage it, just as he did with the previous one.

Matt leaves me another kiss, this time on top of my fingers. Some hands run over my skin, soft, one extends to my ankle and returns, in a caress. Matt gaze meets my.

"Nate says you're pretty," he comments, like it doesn't matter, but his eyes darken. And me don't cooperate, daring when you give a mischievous smile, looking at the ground.

"He's cute, too."

"Mm... Seriously?"

"He's cute too. He's really hot." I feels a determined pressure during the massage and laughs unassumingly. "He's an adorable boy."

Matt catches his bottom lip under his teeth, as if he has to bite off the words before they can escape his mouth. The even theatrical expression makes I laugh a few more times, so when he gives me one back.

"Do you think he's more adorable than me?"

"Jealous, baby?"

Matt pulls me by my feet, making me back slide against the arch that separates the room from the balcony. Teeth graze me skin, nibbling, teasing. All the clumsy movement is meant to tickle me and make i laugh until your stomach hurts.

"Matth..." I tries to say his name, in vain, because he chokes on the word halfway and only knows how to bend his legs to save himself from the attack of jealousy.

When he gets mercy, it's a disaster. With her elbows resting on the cold floor, her legs spread and the hem of her floral dress completely wrapped around her waist. I gasps, noticing that her eyes are even wet.

My boyfriend's gaze goes from soft to hot as he places his attention between me legs. The sight of the cute underwear model is a refreshment for blue eyes; The background is light, lace at the edges. Also rest me head on the doorpost in front of me, take the digital camera, hanging by the strap around me neck, once again in my hands.

The angle, now more lascivious due to the circumstances, is not scary. On the contrary, calm down, me murmur, because you'd rather pull down me thong and show off again.

A mischievous smile appears on the boy's lips, behind the camera, but he did not take the photo. He approaches, on his knees, to position itself between my thighs. With one hand, I spread my legs further apart.

“It's cute,” he says charmingly, because the next sentence is obscene. “But it would be prettier for the camera if it were wet, right?”

Me nod and watch as Matt takes his thumb into his mouth and sucks on it, then brings it to me sweet spot. The stimulus soon grows in my lower abdomen, it's exact. In circles, in a pleasant rhythm, like someone who is more than used to caressing me there.

I throws his head back and sighs. The delicious burning in the pit of me stomach is even more pleasant when he takes the opportunity to bite my chin, blowing the hot air against my skin. My body responds, shuddering, me insides clenching around the void, needing something inside.

"Ah, yes, baby, now..." I only looks forward when i hears him whisper. I follows the up and down movement that the indicator makes between the wet mess me become, sinking slightly, but not entering. Her eyes were lost between my legs.

"How pretty..." he leans in to place a kiss on the corner of my mouth. "I would love to capture the moment..."

He doesn't even care if your face will be framed by the camera, his expression sweet, his lips parted and his eyes shining with lust. Most of the time, the albums they make don't even reveal the dirty faces of the bodies immortalized at seedy angles. Oh yeah, i done this before. Repeatedly. Perhaps more than can be counted.

Me think it's just my little thing, you know? Something in common. Me can't deny it, the ego rises when me watch the shots i takes. Me really think me the most beautiful girl because of him. And it's not that he hasn't taken risks as someone behind the camera, too. Among the different photos in which me are the muse, are my, of the male body. The striking jaw, the slightly white skin. The hands with long, thin fingers, the small V-shaped entrances that lead to the bare abdomen, marking the pelvic bone.

Is it too naughty to have wished during dinner that the camera would stop photographing the moment of celebration and be used in the living room, like now? Of course me enjoyed the time me shared with my boyfriend's friends, my feel like you're going to be friends with his friends, but well, I'm already so trained in showing yourself in front of the camera that me can't. Look at him with the object in front of his hands without feeling a tingle in my body. The curves of my body drawing me in the darkness, naked on the mattress after giving it so much; semen-stained skin and his mischievous smile, as if nothing had happened.

"Matt" i say the name in the most sensual and cunning way i know how. Me hands go straight to the waistband of the shorts, restless until me undo the only button. I gets up from the floor, reverses her position with such eagerness, moaning like a kitten. in heat, until he gets him to lean his back against the bedroom wall, hiding them both from the lighting that penetrates the room from the apartment balcony.

"What? Hmm?" I still have to hear the hoarse voice whispering, pretending, as if it can't even read perfectly what me want. Matt is smiling, he helps me slide me shorts and underwear down a little so me can grab his erection. "What's up, huh?"

He himself is in charge of getting rid of the camera that he has hanging from his neck, taking off his shirt and throwing the object in any direction.

He holds his chin, raising his attention from the head shining with lust to the man's cynical face. However, his movements with clenched fists, rising and falling along, do not stop.

"You're so excited you can't even talk, like a smart girl, right?" The tone is pure mockery, laughing, teasing me just when me need it most. Me pout my lips, me palms already wet. I lifts her hips just so i can line me up and lowers them again, turning them inward.

The boy's hands slide down me thighs, pricking the flesh with his nails until they dig into my ass. He closes his eyes taking advantage of the tight sensation of being swallowed by my body, he even leans down to seek my lips, but he remains with his mouth half open, sucking air into his lungs.

He crosses his legs, giving me full support with his thighs to go up and down without quickly feeling his muscles hurt. He encourages me, pays me one or two compliments with a sweet accent that makes me forget the rhythm of the rubbing up and down against Matt crotch. He's rubbing his sensitive spot, his fingers sinking into my boyfriend's thick hair. And it contains no pleasure. The sweet moan, head tilted to the side, mouth open, so crazy in the sensation that a little saliva slips from the corner and drips onto one's own thigh.

"Silly" Matt mocks, with a smile. He takes his thumb to wipe away the wet traces, but I just wanted to trick him, ending with a light pat on the cheek. I laugh and he laughs.

He grabs the hair at the back of my neck firmly, so that i eyes cannot escape his gaze.

"You know what you want, huh?" He tells, but he doesn't respond with words. I lifts me off the floor, i guides me to the bed. In her hands is the control to adjust me sitting on I'm calves on the mattress, leaning me torso so that it is resting on the edge. He leans down and is ready to be inside me once again. "Imagine how delicious a photo of you body dripping with semen would be, huh? What do you think?"

I smile, satisfied with the new circumstances. Just imagining yourself that way is enough to make my body boil, offering yourself even more in that position. And the worst thing is that i stays still, with her little eyes looking over her shoulder at the man's figure so focused on getting everything in until he completely falls apart, that when i catches him with a mischievous smile, i feels her cheeks burn.

Unfortunately, he also doesn't escape the completely drooling boner at the end. My body expels the white cream during the first contraction. matt gasps, unable to divert his attention from such an erotic scene. He could have lifted the camera off the ground at the same time, immortalizing such indecency, but the echo of voices coming from the street makes him click his tongue in frustration.

“Mattheeeew!” Madi is the one who shouts first, screeching. The last syllable not only lengthens, but also takes on a higher pitch.

"Come back, Matt! Hey, open the door, heeey?" Nate shouts along. "Madi forgot the... What did you forget?"

"Matt!" The third voice is Chris's, also making a fuss, as if it were the end of the world that Madi had forgotten something that not even the girl herself can remember what it is. And from the sound of the horn to get more attention, it seems that everyone returned to their front door at this time of night. My God, the neighbors...

My boyfriend pulls up his shorts, buttons them to cover himself as much as possible, and sighs. But me call him before letting him go anyway.

"Matt..."

"Calm down, baby" the male voice sounds soft. He caresses me back, tilting his head so he can look at me. "Stay here, quietly, wait for me. "I'll be back, I'm going quickly."

"But, Matt," i grabs his wrist as he watches him threaten to leave again. “What if it drips on the floor?”

The expression on Matt's face is so angry that me even regret the stupid question. His smile spreading, the soft bite of his lips as he shifts the focus from his eyes to my ass.

"Ah baby, you look prettier for the photo that way."

NOTES: Remember to hit the heart and share it with your friends! Thanks for reading^^ If you want to be part of the taglist, leave a comment on the post posted on my profile!

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

Text

Aftercare Part 2 (Steddie X You)

A/N: I had an extremely ugh day (couple of days actually) so Ive been living in this fic, writing it out lol Enjoy it <3. I feel safe with them.

Part One Here

Warnings: Dom Steddie and Sub Reader and all that implies (I regret nothing!) , Spanking, DP, mentions of previous bad past relationships for the reader, Smut and fluff. No angst today my friends.

Word Count: 4275

It had been a few days since your tender incident with your roommates Eddie and Steve. The day after they took care of you, you found yourself incredibly sore, not just between your legs but your ass and wrists as well.

The continued to look after you, changing your bandages and icing the swollen area of your limbs. Today they both had to work so your plan for the rest of the afternoon was to put on one of Steve’s shirts and cocoon yourself in Eddie’s bed while you waited for them to come home.

As you entered Steve’s room, you found yourself looking at it with a completely new set of eyes. The smell of his cologne hung in the air making you dizzy as your memory floated to him sitting on the edge of the bathtub caressing your thighs. Your fingers ran across his dresser as your grinned at the pictures you passed of the three of you together. On his desk were some applications for jobs he had been looking at including one at his father’s firm but thankfully he hadn’t filled that out yet and you hoped he never would.

Yellow notepad paper caught your eye and you reached over to bring it closer to you so you could read it.

Sexy things I think Y/N would enjoy:

Spanking (The correct way!)

Restriction/ Handcuffs (Eddie may have some that won’t hurt her.)

Daddy? (This is more for me and Ed. I know it turned me on hearing her talk like she did.)

DP ( I think she’d love to have us both inside her especially with how fucking tight she is…)

I know she said she likes it rough. Eddie said he had some ideas of things he did with other girls. I don’t think she wants us to really hurt her…I don’t know. I should ask her…

Edging ( I just want to hear her beg me in that little voice to allow her to cum)

Role play? (She loves scary movies. I bet she’d love Eddie and I pretending to stalk her and then using her.)(Seriously that thought got me ridiculously hard!)

You smiled as you read his list. The men you tried this dynamic with were always pretty selfish, focusing on their own pleasure instead of yours. Steve seemed to genuinely care about you and your feelings; they both did and always had.

Picking up a nearby pen you scrawled a note of your own on the bottom.

All of these sound fantastic, Stevie! Or should I say Daddy? ;).

Reaching into his closet you grabbed one of his button up shirts, giggling as you wrapped in around your naked skin. He was so much bigger than you were, his shirt feeling like a nightgown as it touched past your knees. It made you feel safe, as if he was there right now with his arms around you.

You pleasantly sighed as you left and headed to Eddie’s room. The metalhead was night to Steve’s day. Where Steve’s room was neat and organized, Ed’s was a complete disaster. His room had a cologne smell like the other boys but it was hidden under is signature smell of cigarettes with a dash of weed.

Even the pictures he had of you three were slightly different. All of Steve’s were from outside in the sun whether it be at the beach or a school event you guys had attended in high school. Eddie’s were from nighttime activities like after one of his shows at the bar or a heavy metal concert outside of town.

You grinned as your finger’s ran over his guitar. God, you loved watching him play. The way his eyes zeroed in as he focused on the notes or the way his fingers moved across the strings… Fuck. A small moan left you at the memory of those same fingers thrusting inside of you.

As you sat on his bed, one of his composition books bent into your thigh. You opened it expecting to find doodles and notes on his next D & D campaign but were surprised to see song titles.

Y/N’s Mixtape

No One Like You- Scorpions

Little Lover- AC/DC

Rock Me- Great White

Why am I not better at this?!

I don’t want them all to be sexual! I need to ask the guys.

-Learn to play Def Leppard

I want to play a song for her on stage and I know she likes them.

Photograph or maybe Animal?

Not Pour Some Sugar! Too cliché!

It took you awhile to find anything to write with in Eddie’s room so you settled on a marker you found under a pile of clothes.

“You got some kinda hold on me You're all wrapped up in mystery So wild and free So far from me You're all I want, my fantasy.”

Your grin grew as you turned on his stereo and Metallica lightly flowed through the speakers. Finding a spot in the middle of his bed, you curled up into a ball, hugging his composition book to your chest as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

##############

The bed dipped by your side, followed by the notebook gently being pulled from your grasp.

“Did she write something in it to?”

You kept your eyes closed so you could hear what they would say when they thought you weren’t listening. You could hear the subtle smile in Steve’s tone as he asked Eddie his question who responded with an equally happy sounding voice.

“Yeah, she did.”

“What does yours say?”

You felt a calloused palm tenderly pet your head, pushing your hair out of your face.

“I wanted to play something on stage for her. I thought she deserved something special after what she went through…has been through with those other assholes. She provided a suggestion.”, he grinned. “What about yours?”

“Shit, dude. What I was working on wasn’t as romantic as yours.”, Steve chuckles. “I, uh, wrote down some things I thought she’d like to try…in bed, you know? Especially since no one seems to be doing it correctly. I still can’t believe she didn’t know what aftercare was.”

“Yeah…what did she write? Hell, what did YOU write?!”, Eddie laughs at his friend.

“She said she liked them all especially, um, calling us Daddy.” The bed gradually dipped on your other side as he lowered his voice. “Dude, that little voice she spoke to us in—fuck—I’ve been jerking off to that sound for the past few days.”

You tried so hard to hold it in but it was impossible to catch the heavy, pleasure filled sigh that escaped your lips.

“Hey Harrington, did your list mention touching her while she slept?”

“Naw, Ed, it didn’t. I think this sweet girl would hate that we made her feel good and she wasn’t awake for it.”

“Very true. We can think of it like a punishment for snooping around our rooms and taking your shirt without asking.”

“I wasn’t snooping.”

“Oh shit, Munson. Would you look at that. She’s awake.” You slowly open your eyes to meet their beautiful smiling faces.

“I just wanted to be close to you guys since you were both gone.” Sitting up, you lean your cheek on Eddie’s shoulder. “I missed you two.”

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

You excitedly flash them your wrists. “Much better! And I can definitely sit normally now.”, you giggle.

“Did that prick call you?” Steve sighed when you shook your head.

“Probably won’t come around again until he’s horny.”

“Well, he’ll have to go through us so…” A wicked grin spread across Eddie’s face when he noticed you exhale again. “You really like us being protective over you, don’t you?”

“I like knowing that I’m safe and cared for.” Your head hung in shame. “I’ve never felt that before.”

Steve’s fingers hooked under your chin, lifting you to face them. “You’re always safe with us. We would never make you feel unwanted or unloved.”

That giddy feeling from the other day returned at his words as you shuffled your shoulders and beamed with pride.

“Can-Can we play?”

The metalhead chuckled as he turned to Steve. “She’s so polite. I love it. Which makes me wonder…Y/N, were those other guys just hitting you to hit you? Like with your idiot, why did he spank you with a belt?”

Your eyes narrow at him as his choice of words for your now ex-boyfriend. “I told him I wanted to try something rougher so he said he could spank me.”

“But that’s not you, is it, sweetheart? I mean you’re not into that sado-masochistic stuff. No judgement if you are.”, he grins.

“No, I don’t want to be hurt like that. I just…like being controlled… and punished if I do something wrong.”

“Like going through our stuff when we aren’t here.”, Steve replied.

“I wasn’t going through your things! I just—”

Eddie interrupted you by roughly grabbing your jaw. “Didn’t sound like to me he was asking but telling you that you did something incorrect. For a pretty girl that’s so polite, you should know it’s not ok to touch other people’s property when they aren’t there.”

The action of him grabbing you and talking the way he was had your pussy clenching as you felt yourself slowly dropping.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I did a bad thing.”

“It’s okay, honey. You’ll learn.” Steve smiled as the metalhead loosened his grip. His eyes were constantly scanning your face for any discomfort. You seemed to be enjoying yourself so far so Eddie continued.

“Do you have a safe word you prefer?”

“I usually use Red. I mean, I haven’t used it yet but…”

“Tough girl. Can I ask you something and I want you to be honest?”

“Yes of course.”

“Have you wanted to but you felt embarrassed? You said last time that fucker hit you too hard sometimes. Why didn’t you use it?”

“It’s not that I feel embarrassed… I don’t want to seem weak…”

They both heavily sighed but Steve couldn’t help himself as he climbed further up the bed and collected you in his arms.

“Y/N, we know you’ve been through a lot. Not just with guys but with your family to. You’re not weak if you need to stop because you feel uncomfortable.”

“Promise us, princess. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, unsafe, or anything like that, you will say that safe word. No matter what we will still love you.”

“I promise.” To add emphasis and lighten the mood you do the “cross my heart” gesture along your chest making them laugh.

Eddie crawled up the bed as well till he was shoulder to shoulder with Steve. “What do you think, Harrington? Should we let this descension slide just this one time?

“I mean, little girl needs to learn the rules and respect us, right?”

“I-I respect you…”, you mumble.

“Hm. I don’t know, baby. Maybe just a small punishment, Munson. Just to let it really sink in.”

The man nods and motions for you lay your head on his lap, adjusting you so you stomach was across the other man’s thighs and your ass accessible. Steve tugs your panties down your legs, gently running his palm over the soft flesh.

“These cuts do look a lot better, Y/N. You said they don’t hurt anymore?”

You shook you head aggressively before responding in a tone that had both boys subtly groaning. “Eddie took really good care of me.”

“Yeah, he did.” A small yelp left your throat as his hand came down on your backside. It wasn’t hard but meant to tease while making sure you were okay. “How did that feel, honey?”

The metalhead brushed back your hair from your face as your nails dug into his jeaned leg.

“Good. S-s-so good.”, you moaned. “You can spank me harder i-if you want to.”

Steve didn’t do it immediately, choosing to run his hands along your skin before finally rearing back and delivering a much harder smack that had you pushing up on your arms.

“Do you like that, princess? Do you like Steve spanking you?”

Your eyes practically roll out of your skull as he does it again a bit harder. “F-fuck, yes I like it.”

“Say it correctly, babe.”

*SMACK*

“Mmm—I like Steve spanking me.”

“Jesus… here, Y/N. Don’t…don’t move.”

The man slides out from under you and you hear sounds behind you of him shuffling around before something clanks loudly to the floor.

“Again, didn’t take long for Harrington to get naked.”, Eddie chuckles making you smile as he continues to play with your hair.

Your hips are abruptly lifted so your lower half is more exposed for him on your knees as he firmly spanks you again before his tongue suddenly licks between your folds.

“Steve! Oh my god…”

“It’s ok, baby. You’re ok. Remember, you’re safe with us.”, Eddie coos. “As sexy as you look, I’m going to slide this shirt off you.”

You lift up on your hands again, helping pull Steve’s shirt over your head as the boy behind you continues to aggressively devour you, moaning into your cunt as he strokes his length.

Pulling back, his palm comes down on your ass and you mewl as your head falls back down to Eddie’s lap. One of his hands reach underneath you to grab a handful of your breast as the other pushes his tongue back inside of you.

“You really are so beautiful, sweet girl. You deserve to be treated right.” His fingers caress your nipples causing you to moan as he gently tugs on the erect bud. “Do you want that? Do you want us to take care of you and make you happy?”

“You…you both have—fuck—have always made me…happy.”

Your answer genuinely makes him smile. “Not like this, sweetheart.”

Your mouth falls open in a silent whimper as you cum, body collapsing as you twitch with pleasure. Sighing, you feel yourself being lifted and wrapped up in Steve’s embrace again. Your eyes remain shut as you inhale him, forehead pressed to his neck as they both tenderly praise you.

“I want you both…to feel me at…at the same time. I don’t think it’s fair for the first time we’re together one of you has me first.”

“Who said we were going to fuck you tonight?” Your eyes meet Eddie’s playful ones, glimmering with mischief. “I mean, you misbehaved and then, I don’t know about you Stevie, but…” He obnoxiously stretches his arms wide. “I had a LONG, stressful day.”

“I did to, Ed. There were so many rude customers and we were SO busy. I kept thinking ‘Gosh I can’t wait to come home and just crash on my bed ALL ALONE.’”

“Oh, come on! Like you haven’t been thinking about fucking me for the past few days.” You crawl off Steve’s lap and climb into Eddie’s, straddling his waist. “I have ever since I saw you both naked. I kept thinking ‘How could I have known these men for so long, lived under the same roof even, and had no idea their cocks were that big.’”

The boy underneath you exhaled through his nose at your words, feeling his dick get unbearably hard against his jeans. Your palms glided down his chest, raising off his shirt before leaning forward to place delicate kisses along his shoulders and neck.

“Please, Eddie. You both deserve to feel good to. Make me yours.”

The metalhead practically growled as he crashed his lips to your own. Effortlessly, he lifted you off him, passing you to Steve who was more than happy to pick up where his friend left off.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Not at one time. I have had anal but…”

The man’s fingers tenderly lift your chin. “It didn’t feel good?”

Your own fingers run through his hair as you place a kiss on his lips. “Not with him but I trust you two.”

Steve grinned as he held on to your waist, shifting his body down the bed till he was flat on his back. A now naked Eddie pounced back onto the mattress making you laugh before licking your lips as you watch him pour some lube into his hand and stroke it along his cock.

“You ready, honey?”

You nod as Steve grips the base of his own cock, allowing you to descend onto it at your own pace. Even with just the tip of him inside of you already full.

“Steve…fuck…”, you moaned, lowering yourself further.

“Yes, baby, you’re doing so good. Just…take your time. Y/N, I…”

“T-tell me, please.”

“I’ve never felt a pussy this fucking tight before. Fuck me, Ed. You don’t even know what you’re about to experience.” His words had you fluttering around him making him groan until you were fully seated on top of him. “Don’t fucking move. I swear I don’t know how long I’m going to last.” His newfound gruff tone had you clenching again, leaning forward on your hands as Eddie gently pushed you down.

“Oh yeah? You like hearing me tell you what to do?”

Steve watched as your face scrunched together as Eddie gradually began pushing his dick into your ass.

“Jesus Christ.”, he grunted under his breath.

The other man grabbed your throat, pulling you closer to his face. “I asked you a question, little girl. You want to play rough you have to show respect. Now…” They both thrust their hips into you roughly at the same time eliciting an obscenely beautiful moan from your lips as your forehead fell on his. “Do you like hearing me telling you what to do?”

“Y-yes, Steve. I-I-I like it.”

His hand snaked around to the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his as they began thrusting into you. Eddie’s palm slid up your back, intertwining his fingers in your hair as he yanked it back.

Steve looked up at you with half-lidded eyes swearing he had never seen anything or anyone so perfect. He had always hated the way people in your life treated you. To him, you deserved the world but he had always been so scared to make a move. He was terrified of losing you and at least as your friend and roommate he could keep an eye on you, protecting you while being there when you needed him.

Eddie spanked you hard and you whimpered at the feeling as he leaned over you to kiss along your shoulder; his ear closer to your lips so we could absorb those gorgeous sounds coming from them. The metalhead struggled to get along with anyone but could always connect with you and Steve. You always made him feel like a person and not the freak everyone thought he was. There was that level of insecurity within him though that felt you could do better than him. He always wanted to tell you how much he truly loved you but, like Steve, was so scared of losing you.

Truth be told, they needed you as much as you needed them.

“Fuck me…I’m gonna fucking cum. Do-do you feel comfortable with us—”

“Yes!”, you cut Steve off. “Fuck yes—mmm—please. Fill me up, Daddy.”

“God fucking hell—”, his voice strained as he tightly gripped your hips, trusting into you roughly as his spend released inside of you.

Eddie wrapped his arm around your chest, pulling you up against his own as his fingers reached between your legs to rub your clit.

“Cum, pretty girl. Fucking squeeze us both as fucking hard as you do. Come on, baby.” He kept urging you as he pumped faster.

“What-what should I—fuck—call you? Are you Daddy to?”

“I’m whatever you want me to be, princess. As long as you do what I say.”

Your arms clung to his as you placed your lips against his ear. “I know—mmm—you’re an amazing…dungeon master. Do-do you want to be my master to?”

The moan that left his throat was too much for you as your eyes closed and you came. Eddie soon followed, pounding into you roughly till he grunted against your skin and released his seed inside of you.

The three of you collapsed on the bed, panting as you tried to catch your breaths. As Steve started to stand however, you quickly reached for his arm.

“Don’t leave!”

“Whoa! Hey, honey, it’s ok. I’m not leaving. I was just going to get something to clean you with because I assumed you wanted to lay here for a little bit before taking a shower.”

He could still see the panic in your eyes until Eddie’s arm slid under yours and pulled you tighter against his sweaty chest. “It’s ok, sweetheart. I’m right here. You’re not alone.”

“Did you wanna take a shower now?” The metalhead chuckles as you nod, Steve smiling as he lifts you into his arms. “Maybe we should do it like this till she gets more comfortable.”

“I’m sorry.”, you pout; afraid your making things too difficult.

“Baby, there’s no reason to be sorry. Now, Eddie, on the other hand should be sorry for how much of mess this fucking bathroom is.”

Said boy who had been getting the shower ready, stood to his full height and playfully squinted at his friend. “Excuse me. Rude. I like my bathroom. I know where everything is.”

“Yeah, on the floor.”

You giggle at their banter as you step into the tub. “I don’t mind your bathroom, Ed.”

“THANK YOU, princess.”

After both men follow you in, you stand still allowing them to clean and take care of you. There was a vast difference between this time and last time. The biggest one being while they had been rough with you there wasn’t any lingering intense pain. You ass stung where they had spanked you but it was a good burn that had you softly sigh as you leaned back against Steve’s chest.

You were already sore between your legs and your ass but it was a dull, lingering pain that you knew would have you constantly thinking about them and how good they made you feel.

That garbage feeling you had come to know after each sexual encounter wasn’t present here. All their attention was on you and as they continued to care for you, you felt your brain slowly return and leave that previous headspace you were in. They never pushed you or made you feel rushed. Because you had felt so heavy and collapsed in his arms last time, Eddie always kept his hand or arm on your waist just in case.

If you happened to feel that clingy impulse, you would rub your nose into Steve’s chest and he would smile softly as he held you to him. After you and they were clean, they quickly dried you, shoved a shirt over your head, and jokingly tossed you back into bed.

Eddie chose to remain naked, lighting a cigarette as Steve thew on some boxers before laying on either side of you.

“Fuck. Look at me being a dick. Y/N, is it ok if I smoke this close to you?”

“It’s fine, Ed. I don’t mind.”, you grin. There was a comfortable silence that feel over the room as you laid together. Your smile grows as you place your hand on Steve’s chest. “Um, so I’ve never done roleplay or any other punishment type stuff before but I’m opening to trying anything you suggest. Just nothing too violent… like don’t punch me or anything.”

“Who wanted to punch you?!”

“No one! I just… I’m still learning…”

“Sweetheart, no one should be punching or kicking you.” Eddie raised his arm and you lifted your head to rest on top of it. “Did you like what we did here?”

“Yeah!”, you exclaim a bit too excitedly making them chuckle. “I, um, I didn’t hate the belt with my ex. I just—he just—”

“It’s too hard. Y/N, is that your way of saying you’d like to add that into our thing here?”, Steve smiles coyly.

“I think as long as I’m with you two, I’ll like anything you try.”

Eddie squished the cigarette into the ashtray, rolling onto his side to face you. “Is it ok if we try, maybe, taking you out to dinner or a movie?”

“Eddie, of course. I love hanging out with you guys.”

“That’s not what he means, honey.”

“Oh…”

“Before you said you didn’t want this to be a one-time thing but you didn’t actually say if—”

“You wanted to be our girl or just do this.”, the man gestures around the bed.

You scoot your body further down the mattress and grab Eddie’s cheeks as you place your lips on his. As you roll over, you do the same with Steve before settling down fully in the metalhead’s embrace.

“’Our girl?’ Is this the 60’s? Are you going to give me your jacket pin, Steve Harrington?”, you teased.

“If that’s what you want, pretty girl. Hell, I’ll do whatever I have to do to show the world how much I love you.” His tone dropped to a more serious register as he reached out to caress your cheek. “WE love you.”

Eddie lightly gripped your jaw, turning you to face him. “We do. Now I don’t have a jacket pin but I can tattoo my name on you somewhere.”

“No!”, you laugh as his fingers tickle up your sides. “I love you to. I’d love to be your girl."

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seat-safety-switch · 7 months

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"You gotta get down here," explains Inspector Hector. "Those beavers are eating the whole campsite!"

Let me explain. Back in the 90s, I spent a lot of time (not even court-ordered) volunteering at a campground. They gave me a place to sleep in exchange for the work, and the place was basically empty during the winter. This idyllic environment (completely devoid of human life) worked wonders for my mental health, and also gave me an opportunity to work on as many small engines (Deeres, Kubotae, what have you) as the other volunteers could break.

Over the years, I migrated away from there, into the city, to get what boring people call "an actual job." However, they kept my phone number, and once in awhile I'd get called in for a disaster that only I could handle. Usually it was small, like a torn fuel-pump diaphragm, and sometimes it was not. This was one of the latter cases.

We'd had beaver infestations at the campsite before. In the fall, they get real fucked up on the low water levels from the downstream reservoir. It's not enough water to survive, and certainly not enough in which to build a boss beaver hangout. Their little rodent brains freak out, and they start trying to dam everything in sight. Problem is, this happens every year, and trees take a really long time to regrow. Over the years, these waffle-tailed motherfuckers have gotten closer and closer to the camp as they progressively deforest the area around the river. And now they were, if Hector was to be believed, eating the buildings.

My mission held that I had to get rid of these beavers somehow, but in a humane fashion. While campground life had given me some skills and a sense of self, urban life had given me a sense of degenerate resourcefulness. I knew exactly what I had to do. Home Depot's famously warped and water-logged lumber is completely useless for all tasks. All tasks, that is, except for "bribing beavers to go away." So if you come by the river this winter and notice that the beaver dams look a little poorly constructed all of a sudden, you can thank the shareholders of the orange toilet store.

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yourantag · 2 months

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Do NOT Let Him Cook (Morningstar!Ithaqua×Reader)

AN: Happy White Day! I'm probably not posting more than this and the other fic I was supposed to post Valentine's Day (which, as you can see, I failed in doing) for March. I will, however, be posting a little more in April cause that is my birthday month! Expect a few indulgent fics. This fic is honestly just crack, so if you need something silly and sweet, here we are! Genuinely, do not let this man cook. Word count: 2.2k words Summary: It's White Day, a day of reciprocated love. Of course, Helel has to give you something in return for your wonderful Valentine's gift. Now, if only he could figure out how he turned a tart into a fruity croissant...

There were very few things Helel feared. The first, of course, was you. He held your heart in his hands as you did too, yes, but no one could get him to obey them quite like you could. It was loyalty, it was devotion, one reciprocated through blood and love. To possess such power over him is somewhat of a marvel, something to fear, even just a little.

The second was your death, the thought of you leaving his side forever. He'd tear apart the world, commit sacrilege in the holiest places, and declare war upon the gods before he'd let someone take you from him. Still, he cannot control plagues, time, or the hostility within the hearts of humans. Life is delicate, even Helel cannot deny that.

The third thing he feared, Helel learned, was baking.

It seems simple enough, really. Chuck a few ingredients in, mix it, then toss it in an oven. Easy, right? Looking around him now, with smoke billowing off the charred tray (and wow, he didn't know metal could burn like that), Helel was completely at a loss.

"Ah, these don't seem quite right." He muttered, scratching his cheek. All Helel wanted was to give you something in return for your Valentine's gift, something special. He had consulted many people, even asking some of the prisoners, as odd as that sounded.

Most didn't give any good responses, only saying "please let me go" or "you're going to pay for this." Terrible advice, really. Not even on topic, either, but it could be worse, he supposed. So, he went to ask his favorite person to bother.

"For the love of- just make them cookies or something!" Nebuchadnezzar had exclaimed, absolutely done with Helel's ramblings. He looked about ready to chew his tongue off so he could finally know peace again. At least death wouldn't ramble about their lover for 15 hours straight.

It had been a decent suggestion, so Helel had taken it. Perhaps he shouldn't have, considering the disaster that was most of his creations.

The counters were covered in flour, the fine powder dusting the area like snow. Splatters of batter, egg, and butter painted some places like abstract art. The worst place of all, funnily enough, was the table. It was completely clean, presenting only a few delectable looking treats.

Sadly, they were not exactly what they were made to be. Somehow, Helel had managed to make bread instead of cake, a croissant instead of a tart, and now small bricks instead of cookies. He carefully tapped one against the counter, wincing as the wood chipped under the force. The cookie, however, was fine.

'I... can't give them this.'

Helel smiled awkwardly, wanting nothing but to slam his face against a wall. He had thought "it couldn't be that hard!" and look at him now. It was pathetic, to the point he genuinely considered just asking a servant to make something instead. However, that's literally something he could do any other day. It didn't carry the significance he'd want it to.

You had given him the head of the rebellion's leader, which most would find horrifying but he found terribly romantic. The best Valentine's gift, truly. Sure, he couldn't give you something of equal value, but he could try and match the sentiment. Helel knew you loved effort and thought, so he would do his best to give you something of that in equal measure.

So, he couldn't give up. Helel once again turned to a different page in the cook book, praying to himself that he didn't fuck up this time. He couldn't possibly mess up sugar cookies, right? They were simple, so surely no matter what they'd be fine.

He was cursing himself wasn't he?

He poured the ingredients, carefully measuring them as he went through the motions. It went smoother this time since he just made cookies (if he could really call them that). With practice under his belt, Helel managed to make a tray of cookies.

"Now I roll them in sugar before baking... where's the sugar?" He looked around, grabbing at the jars in front of him.

"That's flour... that's baking powder... or is it baking soda?... that's powdered milk... wait why do we have powdered milk? Oh!" Helel smiled as he finally found what he was looking for. He didn't know how the chefs managed to get anything done with nothing labeled, but that was the beauty of not being a chef. He didn't have to know, and perhaps he never would.

So, he popped open the glass jar, pouring in the crystalline fragments into a bowl. They glimmered innocently in the light, small gems that melted upon one's tongue.

Helel quickly tossed each cookie ball into the bowl, placing them back onto the tray afterward. Making sure they weren't too close together, he arranged them one last time. Finally, he placed them in the oven. The timer would let him know when they were ready.

The man sighed, moving quickly to wash the dirty dishes. He knew he could leave it to the servants, but at this point, he just wanted to get rid of the evidence of his failures. Sure, most of his baked treats looked... fine, but the first few looked as though it had gone through someone's digestive system already.

After all was said and done, Helel felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. If this was what the chefs dealt with on the daily, he was going to have to give them a raise. All this for some desserts? Really? They deserved to be paid more for this misery.

Checking the timer, he nodded to himself. 10 minutes was enough time to snack on something. Helel let himself drop into a seat, groaning as his weary legs finally got to rest. He grabbed the cake-turned-bread, cutting off a small slice. The cookies were a definite no, and he had his suspicions about the croissant, but the bread seemed fine.

'If I get poisoned from this, they're never going to let me live it down.'

You would absolutely make fun of him. Morningstar, the King of Babel, dying from his own creation. It sounded like a story Shakespeare wrote, really. Helel hoped more for his pride rather than his life that he wasn't that bad at baking.

Taking a few bites, he found that he wasn't dying yet. Which was relieving, of course, but to his surprise, the bread also tasted not bad. Sweeter than most breads, but nothing unbearable. It was probably going to be one of the few things he could actually share with you.

At the chime of the timer, Helel took the cookies out of the oven, letting them cool. That would give him another few minutes to start packing things up. Should he use red ribbon or white? It's a White Day gift, yes, but you told him red reminded you of him.

Humming, the young king started slicing the bread, gently placing the slices in a nice container. Perhaps he should pack some jam in the basket too- it would go well with it.

Helel glanced at the first batch of cookies, opting to dump them in the trash after a brief moment of contemplation. Could they be used as projectiles? Honestly, yes. Was he going to let anyone know he failed that badly? Never.

Finally, he took a bite of one of the croissants. It was fine as well, just odd. The fruit fillings and cream were distributed well throughout the pastry. If it weren't for the fact that it was supposed to be a tart, Helel might have been proud.

Packing those up as well, he placed the 2 containers in a basket, grabbing a few jars of jam and a butter knife. By then, the cookies were sufficiently cooled. Though, after taking another look at them, Helel wondered what he had done wrong this time.

Unlike the first batch, these cookies were puffy. They weren't like cream puffs, but they were certainly not cookies. Had he mixed up which of the powders he was using? He really wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

The other pastries he had packed weren't made to be what they ended up as, but tasted fine anyway. Maybe, these would be the same.

So, shrugging his shoulders, Helel tossed one of the "cookies" in his mouth.

And instantly he regretted it.

It was salty. Not salty in the pleasantly seasoned way, but salty as in if he had drank salt water it would taste better than this.

Spitting out the abomination, Helel glared at one of the jars. Of course he mixed up the sugar and salt, of course. Still, he at least had something other than this. He'd just have to dispose of these.

If you didn't find him.

The door clicks open, and Helel can't decide whether he wants to scream or jump right out the window. In the doorway, as he expects, is you. You're always welcome in his eyes, his wonderful, perfect significant other. However, at this particular moment, he really wishes you weren't here.

"Helel? What are you doing here?"

Though you ask, you already seem to at least know he was baking. Not a very hard assumption to make, all things considered, but that just makes things harder for him.

"I was... baking." He says, giving a strained smile as he slowly grabs the tray of cookies. Hopefully, if he's quick enough, you won't even notice him toss the entire thing in the trash.

'Please do not ask about these, please don't notice-'

"Is that a scone dusted in salt???"

Helel was going to throw himself off a cliff.

"...I was trying to make sugar cookies."

The look you give him simply reaffirms his decision.

"I... see. What's the occasion?" You draw closer to him, staring curiously at the basket. He's thankful he managed to add a blanket on top beforehand, though it would've been nice if he had tied a ribbon around the handle, too.

"It's White Day, so I wanted to give you something special." Helel responded, dropping the tray with a sigh. It was too late to hide it, so why bother?

You hum softly, lips curling into a smile. You grab one of the scones, taking a bite before he can warn you. Yet, instead of spitting it out like he expected, you chewed as though nothing were wrong with it.

"Are- are you okay?" He can't help but ask. He had tried one right before you came- he knew they didn't taste good. So, how was it that you ate the entire scone without even cringing in the slightest?

"Yep, I'm fine. I'm sure you already know, but these are salty." You laugh, quickly grabbing a glass of water and chugging it. Despite the concern he feels, Helel can't help the way his chest warms.

"Well, yeah, I was going to warn you about that. Can't believe you ate it all- I spat it out immediately. Why did you eat it anyway?" He can't help but ask. You weren't one to shy away from being honest. The fact you looked him in the eye and told him it was salty was proof enough. You weren't scared of him, so why would you put yourself through that?

You give him a smile, tilting your head towards the window. The sun is high in the sky, letting all know that it was sometime in the afternoon.

"You've been here for... I'm guessing at least 5 hours. I don't know how you haven't collapsed yet, but that's not the point right now. The point is," You take his hands into yours, kissing each of his knuckles. "I see your effort, and I don't want to let it go to waste."

Helel, for all his cruelty, his hatred, his grief- cannot be anything but in love for you. To love is to be seen, to be known, and it seems that for all his life, that's exactly what you've done. Seen him, known him, but most of all, loved him.

So, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing kisses from your palm down to your wrist. He lingers there, letting you cradle his face as he closes his eyes.

It wasn't perfect by all means, but he thinks that this small moment is worth more than anything he could've ever orchestrated. Helel doesn't need endless praise, gifts, or overwhelming acts. All he needed was a bit of acknowledgement, a bit of love.

"Happy White Day, my sun.”

ALTERNATE STORY:

Helel did not realize he was that bad at baking. He completely blames Nebuchadnezzar for everything.

"HELEL, HOW THE FUCK DID YOU MANAGE TO MAKE A MONSTER!?"

"HIS NAME IS FREDERICK KREIBURG AND HE'S SORRY TO SAY THAT HE'S FRENCH!"

"WE AREN'T EVEN IN FRANCE! WHAT DID YOU ADD TO THOSE COOKIES? THE CREMATED REMAINS OF YOUR DAD!?"

"...that explains why the sugar was so dusty."

"...Helel Morningstar Babel-"

"Ahaha... ha..."

Yeah, Helel was going to kill his brother if you didn't end up killing him first.

#idv #identity v #identity 5 #idv ithaqua #ithaqua x reader #idv fanfic #identity v fanfic

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leverage-ot3 · 4 months

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notable moments from The Cross My Heart Job

leverage 4.09

(team comes down an escalator toward the main floor)

Sophie: Well, that trip was a complete disaster.

Hardison: It was a train wreck.

Eliot: No, it was a shipwreck. And you know how I know that? 'Cause I was in the wreck.

Hardison: Hey, man, I don't want to hear you complain. At least you don't have to fix th-the ear buds. You know what?

Eliot: Man, don't talk to me about the ear buds! I just fought three ex-Brazilian combat divers with spear-guns, underwater!

Hardison: I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear it.

Eliot: You believe this? (taps Sophie’s arm)

Sophie: Ow, don't touch me. I am sunburnt everywhere. I hate playing the French heiress on the topless beach.

Parker: Oh, I don't know what you're complaining about. I didn't even get to see the emerald.

Hardison: Are you for real?

Eliot: Oh, my god, for the last time, it's not an emerald. All right? It's an island. It's the "Emerald of the Caribbean."

chaotic family on an escalator

- - - - -

Parker: The heart could be anywhere by now. They could have jumped in a taxi and driven off.

Sophie: No, no, we have to assume it's still in the airport, that they're planning to fly it out.

Parker: Why?

Eliot: 'Cause otherwise, we've already lost

- - - - -

Eliot: All right. They're in there. We're gonna need a distraction.

(Sophie takes off her pants and uses her long shirt like a dress, then shakes out her hair and pulls a pair of heels from her purse. Parker counts some cash)

Parker: All right, they told Linda to call from a pay phone for instructions once she made the drop.

Eliot (hands Parker money): Better hurry up, or they're gonna start getting suspicious.

Parker: It's a good thing we didn't stay on that island to see those emeralds.

Eliot: Parker, I just t...

(Sophie leans on Eliot to put on her shoes)

Eliot: You carry high heels in your purse?

Sophie: I always travel with heels. (takes Parker’s scarf and ties it around her waist) How's this? Distracting enough?

Parker: Hmm.

parker and eliot both look away, partially to give her privacy but partially to act as a wall so that other people won’t see her changing

notice the stark contrast between this scene and the other changing scene in this episode

- - - - -

(the clerk closes the doors. Inside, Eliot pulls the kidnapper between two tables while Parker talks to Tanya)

Paker: Yeah, that will work. We'll get you a little taser, carry it with you wherever you go-

parker and her tasers + being surprisingly good with kids

- - - - -

Nate (to Eliot): What do you got on this guy?

Eliot: He's not a professional. He has no combat training. Lousy Zanshin.

Parker: The what?

Eliot: He's a loc... It means "personal awareness." Thug for hire, but very well funded. (hands Nate tickets) Two first-class tickets, one for him and one for the girl, and that's how they got past security, and (hands gun to Nate) plastic gun. One or two shots in the barrel warps, but that's pretty much all you need, very pricey hardware.

Parker: Why would someone pay for that but not hire a professional?

Eliot: He doesn't want a professional. He wants a local so we can't trace him back to him.

- - - - -

(Eliot uses a cord to tie the kidnapper’s hands)

Eliot (to Sophie): Don't suppose you travel with handcuffs.

Sophie: No, not on this trip.

👀👀👀

- - - - -

Parker: Plus the ear buds are busted.

Hardison: And I burned our phones and our credit cards so we can't be traced.

Sophie: Most of our money went on bribing the waiter.

Eliot: We're operating in a secured area.

Parker: And my lock picks are checked.

Hardison: And airport wi-fi is a joke. Face it, we're practically naked.

- - - - -

(Eliot and Parker walk out of the Restaurant and part ways. Parker approaches a kiosk that sells computers and looks around, then crouches to look at the locks before walking away. Eliot approaches an electronic store before yelling catches his attention from a check in desk not far away)

Platinum Flyer: You guys! Hey! Platinum flyer over here. Come here. Somebody look at me.

Airline Clerk: Sir, please calm down.

Platinum Flyer: Ju... let me stop you right there, okay? I don't care what seats you have left, all right? Do you see this? (holds up a card) I am a vista Atlantic platinum flyer, all right? Is this card gold? No. Look at it. Is it silver? No.

(Eliot looks around, sees a magazine and picks it up)

Platinum Flyer: It's platinum, all right? So if you think that I am sitting back in coach with the rabble, you got another think coming, all right?

(Eliot puts the magazine over the Platinum Flyer’s briefcase as the man tries to drop his wallet into it)

Platinum Flyer: You can just forget it. I don't even want to talk to you anymore. Who's that? Thing one and thing two, come here. You guys. Hey!

(Eliot walks back to the electronics store and pulls the Platinum Flyer’s credit card from the wallet. He enters the store and grabs several packages of walkie talkies, then flags down a clerk)

Eliot: Yo, yo, yo. Come over here.

(Parker tries on various sunglasses, stealing a pair before walking away. She walks past again and steals a snow globe. On another pass she steals a bag. She returns to the computer kiosk and breaks the sunglasses to picks the locks, revealing an old style CRT monitor)

all this competence porn, it’s SO GOOD

- - - - -

(later Parker and Eliot take apart the walkie talkies at a table while Hardison uses an old computer at the bar with Sophie and Linda watching while Nate paces)

Nate: Hardison, come on.

Hardison: Look, man, this is like stone knives and bearskins, okay? Nobody's asking Eliot to fight a guy with a nerf sword.

Eliot: Damascus, 2002.

Hardison: Like you've been to Damascus.

domestic parker and eliot taking apart walkie talkies? eliot legit sword fighting with a nerf sword? amazing

- - - - -

(the clerk watches from behind them, amazed)

Hardison: Wh-what? Come on, man. Like you've never seen a man travel with a desktop before. Go.

LMAO

- - - - -

Nate: Right there! Right there. Him.

Sophie: Dean Chesney?

Nate: Dean Chesney, CEO of Vertronics defense contractor. I had my eye on him for quite a while, but he was never a high-priority target.

Hardison: Why not?

Nate: He was dying.

- - - - -

(Eliot sits down and his feet hit against the struggling kidnapper. Eliot kicks him in the head but he continues making muffled sounds)

Nate: Are you done?

(Eliot kicks the man again)

Eliot: Yeah

- - - - -

Hardison: After we get out of the public areas of the terminal, we work on level two. It's ground crew, tarmac access. It gets us from here to the private terminal.

Parker: How do we get that? Break Eliot's wrist?

Hardison: What? N-no, no. We just pick one up from where the ground crew left it.

[Locker Room]

Parker (opening combination lock): Yeah, this will keep my stuff safe, from a 6-year-old with the DTs.

(Parker opens the locker and removes a jacket. Eliot closes the locker and hits the lock on the one next to it, opening the lock. He pulls out a level 2 badge and hands it to Parker)

Eliot: That's two.

(Parker and Eliot begin to change clothes)

🔥🔥🔥 scene tho 🔥🔥🔥

also, notice how they start getting changed without turning around or anything, like hardison would have immediately turned around because that’s who he is. she literally immediately takes her shirt off without a care. he doesn’t even blink at it. eliot and parker have a very strong, nonverbal, physical bond because they’re similar entities. they understand each other on a deep level because of their pasts and there isn’t that type of need for modesty between them.

also they’re literally so close to each other when they’re doing this??? literally, personal space? they don’t know her

ALSO, eliot throws his shirt at the camera and idk it feels like he’s giving parker privacy from the “onlookers” (aka the camera) if you get what I’m saying,,,

- - - - -

Sophie: Well, we have to lure them out.

Parker: Oh, okay. Set Nate on fire?

Eliot: Settle down

she mouths “no” back at him and they have a silent exchange where she ends up smiling I love them

- - - - -

Hardison (pacing): Come on, Eliot. Come on, come on. Come on, man.

Announcer: Mr. Picard. Mr. Kirk Picard, please meet your party at door "E.

ELIOT KNOWS HOW TO GET HARDISONS ATTENTION. HE KNOWS TO MAKE A STAR TREK REFERENCE AND BAM HARDISON KNOWS WHATS UP. WHAT D O R K S

- - - - -

(Eliot gets into a cart that Parker is sitting in. She holds up the keys and hands them to him)

Parker: Let's ride

her SMILE and EXCITEMENT

- - - - -

Hardison: Excuse me. Uh, something's wrong with my pin. Can you reset it for me?

(Hardison hands the card to the guard, who scans it)

Guard: Can you confirm your old pin?

(the screen shows that the card belongs to a woman and the guard looks at Hardison in surprise)

Guard: Uh...

Hardison: What?

Guard: Wh—

Hardison: what? You got a, you got a problem? My little transformation? Go on, speak your mind. Yeah, I had some surgery, huh? A little nip, a little tuck, a little pop, okay? And now I am who I'm supposed to be. I used to be Francesca. Now my name is Frank!

Guard: Um...

(a second guard turns to look at Hardison)

Hardison: You got a problem? You... excu—excu—I didn't know this was the club. You all up in the mix, don't even know the flavor. What's your problem? (walks around the desk aggressively) You got a, you—everybody got a problem with this? Look, racism, sexism, anti-semitism? That's how you y'all want to play this? Cool. I thought it was a no-no in airport security, but I see y'all profilin' me right, left, and center, everywhere. You know what? Shame on you. Shame on your mama. Shame on your kids.

(Hardison glances at the monitor to see the pin number, then walks back around the desk)

Guard: I-it's fine. I-it's fine. I got no problem with anything. Uh, it-it looks like you used to, used to be a-a really pretty girl.

Hardison: Used to be?

Guard: A-and n-now you're a-a very handsome gentleman.

Hardison: You hitting on me?

Guard: C-can you confirm your old pin?

Hardison: It's 5135.

Guard: Uh. (scans the card) Okay, there. Try that.

Hardison: Thank you. (looks at second guard) You better re-adjust your peripherals.

Guard 2: Real smooth.

(Hardison returns to the card reader and scans the card, entering the pin)

Reader: Pin accepted.

Hardison: Don't care what anybody else says. Next time, I'm taking the train.

I can’t tell if this scene was transphobic or not ??? like, it could have been worse and he called out people who would be judgmental of his “transformation” ???

like there was like one other kinda transphobic thing they did in the show but I forget the episode

- - - - -

Nate: I know what you're gonna say.

Sophie: I think you should have a drink.

Nate: Okay, I didn't know what you were gonna say.

Sophie: Look, we don't like it when you drink, (pours him a drink) but we trust you when you do. We both knew this was gonna get personal. We need you to stay clear-headed. You let it get to you now, it's gonna go bad for all of us. Be very careful, Nate.

- - - - -

Nate: Sam would have been 13 this year. A teenager. Almost a man. I mean, you know, probably a big pain in the ass, but… Joshua Spin is getting out of that hospital bed.

(Sophie nods. Nate sighs and takes the drink, looking down at Sophie’s hand over his)

- - - - -

hardison’s GRIN when he sees all the computers in the tower 🥺

- - - - -

Parker: It took us 8 minutes to get there. It's gonna take us 8 minutes to get back. Wait. (goes around to the front of the cart)

Eliot: What are you doing? Wait. No way!

(Parker lies on the ground and reaches under the cart)

Eliot: Come on, Parker, we got to go! We got to get-- Let's go! What are you do-- Quit monkeying around under there!

(Parker stands up holding a piece of electronics)

Eliot: Did you just pull something out of the engine?

Parker: Yeah. Spark regulator, keeps the cart from going more than 25 miles an hour. Now we'll get there in 4 minutes.

(Eliot starts the cart and takes off quickly)

Parker: Hey! Whoa! Whoa! Yeah!

- - - - -

Nate: Last week on that island, you faked a volcanic eruption. How is this harder?

HE DID WHAT NOW

- - - - -

Nate: You just sell it to the tower.

Sophie: Massdot special?

Nate: Massdot special.

Linda: Massdot special?

Sophie: Yes! (takes Linda’s phone and makes a call)

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: National Weather Service. This is Rachel.

Sophie: Oh, thank God!

[Crab-a-Rama]

Sophie: I was just out walking my dogs, and I saw a tornado touch down!

(Nate pulls up pictures of tornadoes on the computer)

Rachael: Are you sure?

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: The current forecast don't indicate any severe-weather patterns.

Sophie: I'm sure.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Sophie: I took a photo of it with my phone. I'm sending it to you now.

(Nate sends a picture of a tornado to Rachael as he dials the phone)

[National Weather Service]

(Rachael looks at the picture in shock)

Rachael: Uh, please hold, ma'am. (places Sophie on hold and takes another call) National weather service. This is Rachel.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: Are you asleep at the wheel? There's a tornado out here by the airport right now! A freaking tornado! Come on!

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: Bill. Bill!

Bill: What is it?

Rachael: We got calls here. I think we need to issue a tornado warning for the Cincinnati metropolitan area.

- - - - -

Chesney: --to make the top of the list. This is my only chance. I've planned for months. I have eight backup contingencies. I'm fighting for my life, Mr. Ford! What are you fighting for?

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: I am fighting for that 15-year-old boy that you're going to kill.

[Chesney’s Room]

Chesney: God helps those who help themselves.

Nate: And I help people who can't.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: And God help you if anything should happen to that boy, because if he spends more than one second longer in that hospital than he needs to, I will make it my mission in life to end you.

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: I will ruin you.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: I will ruin your name. I will ruin your company. I will bring down everything you have ever touched. And when I am done, I will hunt you down--

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: --and I will kill you myself.

[Crab-a-Rama]

(Nate hangs up the phone)

- - - - -

parker yells “yee haw” a lot and I love her for that

- - - - -

Pilot: Tower, field is in sight.

Program: We have you in sight. Clear to land on runway 1-8.

Hardison: Okay, flight 4-0-9. W-we have a visual. You are clear to land on runway 1-8.

Pilot: Roger. Clear to land.

(the airplane lands safely)

Pilot: Tower, we are down.

Hardison: Yes! Hell yeah! That's what I'm talking about.

Pilot: Say again, tower?

Hardison: I'm sorry. No, no, I'm sorry. It's cool. It's cool. It's cool. Celebrate with me. All right.

hardison managed to land an airplane with 300 people on it with nothing more than a computer and a flight simulator and we STAN our intelligent man

- - - - -

eliot was always standing next to hardison in all the extra scenes in this episode and we love to see it

- - - - -

(Eliot looks at Nate and Sophie, then nudges Hardison)

Eliot: Let's go.

(Eliot grabs Parker on the way down the hall, Hardison follows them)

his lil pat on hardison’s shoulder? how he places a guiding hand on parker’s arm, leading her away? we LOVE to see casual touches and casual intimacy between them

- - - - -

so hardison likes to assemble model helicopters in his spare time sometimes and nate assembles model ships in his ???

- - - - -

Chesney: So now what? You can't report me without exposing yourself. And what's to stop me from trying again?

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: I am. (hits remote to bring up information and a video feed on the monitors) I'm watching you. I'm watching your money, your people, your company. What have you got there, a pulse rate of 86?

[Chesney’s Room]

(Chesney looks around in alarm)

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Oh, look at that.

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: Just jumped up to 104. That can't be good for you.

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Make your peace now, Chesney. (continues putting model together) Because if I see anything, anything I don't like...

[Chesney’s Room]

Chesney: Well, Mr. Ford it seems you've killed me after all.

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Oh, I didn't kill you. God killed you. I just made sure it took. (hangs up)

#eliot spencer #parker #alec hardison #leverage ot3 #parker x hardison x eliot #leverage #nate ford #nate ford meta #sophie devereaux #sophie devereaux meta #parker meta #alec hardison meta #eliot spencer meta #meta #notable moments #the cross my heart job #leverage season 4 #mine #leverage: let's go steal a queue

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jadeazora · 7 months

Text

A bit of review/overall thoughts for the Teal Mask.

Overall, a much better attempt compared to DLC1 of SwSh. The Isle of Armor was pretty cool, but the storyline was pretty bland overall. I found the story much more engaging here, especially when we get the true story of what happened between the "Loyal" Three and Ogerpon.

Speaking of the new Legendaries, the L3 are interesting with how much intelligence they show (from knowing how valuable the masks are and traveling across regions to get to Kitakami to clearly planning their revenge on Ogerpon right in front of you and Carmine) and how they might have been corrupted by the Toxic Chain. Ogerpon is also really cute with how much personality she shows. I feel SV really did a great job with bonding us with our Legendary partners overall.

Also with the Loyal Three, there's a number of interesting guesses about how they came back to life. My initial assumption was that it was something like them feeding on Kieran's anger and resentment to reawaken themselves, but there's also the theories that he was possessed by the Toxic Chain (we do see a purple glow travel up his arm during the scene if you pay very close attention, so it's possible this is where he would be possessed) and the rumors of the crystals from the Crystal Pool possibly bringing the dead back to life, since Carmine mentions a rumor where people have met those who have passed away there, and Kieran was hanging around with the Mask that had been imbued with those crystals.

(As an aside, SV has very much of a corrupted wishes vibe, from the Professor and their vision of a utopia would cause an ecological disaster to Paldea, to the Loyal Three wishing for beauty/power/intelligence when they made contact with the Toxic Chain at the possible cost of their morality, and how Kieran wishes to become stronger than the player but falls into his obsession at the end.)

Honestly, Kieran's launched himself into being one of my favorite rivals with the game seemingly building him up as a problem for the Indigo Disk storyline, but it's neat how the siblings undergo a complete reversal with how they view the protagonist. He's also a pretty decent challenge, with a fully-evolved team of six in the low-mid Lv70s all packing held items. (If you're doing this after you completed the main story of SV.) He puts up a much better fight than Geeta does, for sure, and I hope he gets to meet your base-game rivals in the next storyline.

Carmine is also really fun, especially when she starts warming up to us, but I do hope she gets called out for her earlier treatment of her brother, and how she started this whole mess by lying to him. Like, I don't think he would have felt left out by us just randomly running into Ogerpon. We thought it was a child until it dropped its mask, we could have just explained that to him. We're the new kid, how would we know any better or what the ogre looks like? I guess she might have been worried that two little kids would just climb up this dangerous mountain at night, but it still lead to more problems.

I loved Perrin's sidequest too, and hope we see her again in the Indigo Disk! Bloodmoon Ursaluna is so cool (already one of my fave Gen9 Pokemon and regional variants), and can actually give you a pretty fierce battle if you go in with a new team.

Kitakami still feels a little empty imo, just like the base game, but there's a good amount of small caves that sometimes have rare Pokemon inside, and places like the Chilling Waterhead that I wouldn't even know was there if not for Fezandipiti. Some other areas are also visually cool, like the Crystal Pool (interesting to see those crystals from Area Zero are showing up in other regions as well) and the Fellhorn Gorge.

I'm really excited for the Indigo Disk now, like full-on brainrot mode rn, and feel the Teal Mask really does a pretty good job of building up the second part of the DLC with all the little teasers we get. (In comparison, SwSh's DLC felt more separate between the two halves.) I feel they haven't shown much of the story aside (from the BB League/battling stuff), so things are probably going to get pretty crazy, especially with certain things the datamine has given us, in Pt2, and I really can't wait to see what happens next!

#pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon sv #pokemon sv spoilers #pokemon sv dlc #pokemon kieran #rival kieran #rival carmine #pokemon carmine #loyal three #fezandipiti #munkidori #okidogi #the teal mask #the hidden treasure of area zero #ogerpon

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cocogum · 1 month

Note

what is waven like what happens in it

It took me some time to organize my thoughts which is why I couldn’t answer you sooner Anon but I’m here now ✨

Just before I begin though, I just want to tell you that since Waven still needs to update more (like the fact that it needs to showcase more races cuz we only got five) there will be some specific things that I will have to skip explaining because they’re not fully shown. But don’t worry, I’ll be able to explain to you the general basis of what’s going on. So at least you will know a lot more than nothing.

I started playing the game just a few days ago but I already had the context of what was going to happen way before I began playing.

So here’s how it goes:

After the events of Season 4, some events will happen in “The Great Wave” Wakfu manga (coming out on April 19 on allskreen.com) but after that, 10 years will go by and that’s where a new era called Waven will begin.

We don’t know how but we know it will somehow involve Yugo. Yugo, at some point in time, will be the next danger to the world and will invoke the most gigantic wave ever made. It’s so gigantic in fact that it will swallow multiple kingdoms and many lands. We don’t know why he will do this and we don’t know if he will do it intentionally. We also don’t know when and where he will do this. This is why the next era is called “Waven” because it’s based on the great wave that ravaged so many lands.

His wave would be such a huge disaster to the world that it will be a bigger calamity than the time Ogrest had been crying.

So now that the lands have been completely wiped out, and Yugo’s body count is higher than ever, the World of Twelve will somehow survive this thanks to the remaining lands that survived the disaster. These lands will be turned into islands. The main transportation will be by boat.

Kingdoms and great countries will turn into islands while other places such as Brakmar and Bonta will still be called “nations” despite not looking like one. A lot of people died obviously but they don’t specifically tell you. You can just tell by how it all looks.

Based on the screenshots I took for you, here are the places that will remain in the world (listed in order by how I placed them) :

Vampyre Boat

Brakmar nation

Tofu island

Amakna nation

Crackler island

Whisperer island

Bwork island

Chafer island

Bonta nation

Gobball island

Albuera nation

Pig island

Taur island

There might come more locations in the future but who knows.

If you’re wondering about the characters then no worries. The main characters are still alive which is a relief at least.

For the Percedal family, Evangelyne, Dally, Elely, Goultard, and Pin are still here. Pin grew up a bit and now looks to be Elely’s age. He can be seen tagging along with his father everywhere he goes.

We don’t know where Elely is yet but Tot did say that she was going to have her own series during Waven so all is good for her. As for Flopin, he’s alive as well. His progress with Madagaskan will be shown in the future.

For the minor characters, we can actually see that some of them have survived the great wave as well.

We can see Ogrest lazing around and singing in his garden. Given his peaceful behavior, I’m guessing Otomaï and Dathura are doing okay too.

We can also see Elaine with her father as well as Bordegann and Kabrok with his wife still working in their shop.

We even see Lotie, an osamodas girl that Yugo and Adamai met in Season 1 AND have seen her again in the manga. She can now be seen fully grown and playing with Igor.

Her father and brother don’t seem to be around the area and her speeches didn’t involve or mention them in any way.

Goultard is very much alive and well. He teaches you how to defeat the shushus as soon as you wake up and choose a race. He’s kind of like your guide for how the fighting is supposed to work in Waven.

Speaking of which, the main enemies you will have to face off as of now, are shushus.

There are giant floor openings in different locations of the World of Twelve that let out shushus and are quickly spreading around the world. You, as the player, have to get rid of them while also battling some characters that have gotten possessed by them. Also, you can actually get to see some gods (for now you can only see the Cra goddess) from their former selves in need.

The Cra goddess, for example, can be seen but she seems to have her whole body missing. Her head is the only thing intact and Evangelyne decided to check up on her.

We also get a piece of information from Astrub that helps us understand the world better and how the people reacted to the change:

“To whoever reads these lines: you are a survivor. You have been chosen to help rebuild the World After. You are one of us, and we welcome you. Welcome to Astrub.

The lands of Before are but a memory.

When the Great Wave crashed down ten years ago, it ravaged everything in its path, leaving behind only ruins and desolation. A few places survived, as did a few lucky survivors. But the World of Twelve, drowned under the seething waters, died.

Heroes are gathering. In the past, they had already proven their courage and bravery in the service of the common good. Once again, they are taking the fate of the world into their hands. They are organizing themselves into four cardinal Clans to help the world rise again. A new era is dawning. Life is asserting itself. Hope for a new future is growing.

Order, Nature, Science and Trade are now working in harmony to maintain the balance in his New World. History is on the march again.”

Other than that, that’s all I have for now.

Like I said before, I’ve been playing the game for over a week now so it’s obvious that I missed a ton more info on the world not to mention that I didn’t even start talking about the remaining lands and what their deals are.

Waven is available on Steam for your PC and on the App Store for your phone if you’re interested in finding more on your own.

I’ll be sure to let the ones who can’t/don’t want to play it be able to know new things I find here cuz A LOT is going on already!

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littlemessyjessi · 1 month

Text

“Couple of Chaos” : A Kim Namjoon/RM Commissioned Request: Plus Size Reader, Messy Reader

Kim Namjoon x Reader, Plus Size Reader, Messy Reader, Established Relationship

Prompt: Namjoonie and his partner who is just as much of a mess as him. A darling. A lovely person. Love of his life. But just as much of a chaotic mess as he is, lol.

“Life is the messy bits.” - Lisa Friedman

Headcanons: How Namjoon and Reader deal with the both of them being messy as hell.

First and freaking foremost, you’re both disasters

just full on

You’re both equally chaotic

one as bad as the other

and yet ya’ll will get on each other’s nerves so bad with messes

like…. ya’ll both do it and yet when it’s the other person it’s somehow terrible

hypocrites, the both of yuns

that being said, in a way, ya’ll kinda complete each other

Namjoon is a perpetual passport loser right?

And I’ve lost count of how many times he’s lost his air pods

Well, cue…. you

His personal storage locker… or purse. Whichever you want to refer to it

If you carry a purse, just snatch his shit from him and keep up with it so this man can actually board a plane

If you don’t carry a purse but wear a bra, stick it in the boulder holder

If you don’t do either, put it in your pocket for him

If you don’t have pockets then you have bigger problems to worry about that Namjoon-ah and his lack of ability to keep up with his shit

Now, assuming that you do have these things, you do this so often that Namjoon just knows you have them.

Needs chapstick? If you’re in a relatively private company, he just goes into your pocketeses for it

Passport? Ok, so Namjoon is smart as fuck. We get it. However, he do be having some primo himbo energy at times.

Picture this: Airport. Namjoonie lost passport. “Oh, wait a second. I know where it is!” Just turns and sticks his hand in your bra and deep sea dives in the titties until he has found what he’s looking for. Assuming that you have titties. If you don't, well again- homeboy is just deep sea diving in whatever area you're currently keeping his belongings.

meanwhile, the eyes of everyone around him have been scarred and you’ve just been violated in front of the entire airport

he realizes this in about 3 seconds and all he can do is give you that cute dimpled smile

of course he’s forgiven. It’s Joonie. If you don’t forgive him then I’ll be along directly to deliver an ass whoopin'. Let's not play with sweet Namu's precious feelings. He's an angel and a perfectly wonderful person. Fuck with him and you fuck with me. And I have raged stored from the age of three. I am now in my 30s. I have it and I will use it.

so yeah

and going back to ya’ll getting on each other’s nerves

doom piles

There. I said it.

Ya’ll both got doom piles and junk drawers and whole ass closets just full of random crap

and you nearly kill each other over it on a regular basis

“Jagiyaaaaaaaaaaa! Come on! There is a full on mountain of stuff here and you can’t even close this drawer.”

“Namjoon, would you like to discuss the entire guest bedroom full of figurines? Or perhaps, the closet full of books? Or maybe, just maybe, you would like to explain to me why there is an drawer in our bedroom full of baby things when neither one of us has any plans of having children anytime soon?”

“....” *Joon bites lip and narrows eyes

“....” *you lift a brow*

“Alright, jagi. My mistake. You hungry?”

“Yes, I’m starving.”

“Wonderful.” he smirks. “Where would you like to eat?”

Your head slowly turns around.

You narrow your eyes at his smug ass face.

“How fucking dare you, Kim Namjoon?”

And he has the audacity to smirk at you because he knows he bested you cause you can’t decided where to eat to save your life.

Jokes on him though because you just needed a project. It was sorting through your doom piles but now that he’s pissed you off it quickly changed to annoying the ever living hell out of him.

Lowkey though, jokes actually on you because Joon loves it when your fiesty and sometimes purposefully does this shit just to rile you up.

You also know this about him though. Which is why you left the junk drawer open and also why you got sassy.

He likes that you’re a mess and you love that about him too.

"This is the stuff that drives me crazy This is the stuff that's getting to me lately In the middle of my little mess I forget how big I'm blessed"

- This is the Stuff, Francesca Battistelli

Members Reaction to the Deities of Destruction and Disaster:

Seokjin: (A/N: omfg Seokjin you did not have to be so aggressively attractive. And that goes for you too, Namjoon)

Long suffering sigh. The hyung energy is strong here. It’s part frustration and part pure bewilderment as to why, how and what even is he going to do with the both of you. That being said, Seokjinnie thinks the two of you are super cute together. You definitely get scolded but also, he cracks easily because come on. Look at ya’ll. Thanks God every day that Namjoon uses you as his purse though. He is so tired of standing around in an airport, lol.

Yoongi: (A/N: Cue the dreamy sigh. Just look at them. Look at the smiles. Look at the damn ARMS!)

I’m gonna be so for real with you right now. He does not give a shit about the mess. I mean, don’t get his things in a mess but if you roll up in a 2003 lifted Tacoma, open the door and a bunch of shit falls out… I mean, maybe he might give you a little bit of a lecture but honestly? That’s ya’ll’s problem, lol. But also stop losing ya’ll fucking airpods, the both of you. If a bra works then do that because he will not be loaning you another pair ever again. And he refuses to talk about why.

Hoseok: (A/N: Mother of God. I have the fattest crush on Hoseok. Also peep that cute little Kookie. And how DARE you attack me like this, Namjoon?!)

Never in the history of ever was anyone annoyed more by this than Hoseok, lol. However, he doesn’t bitch. Oddly enough, he never complains about it. He never bitches. He never lectures. He does, however, come over to hang out and help the both of you clean your mess. Hoseok is great for body doubling if you have ADHD. However, if you have an issue with him doing the cleaning it might be an issue. It makes him itch and he needs to scratch it.

Jimin: (A/N: It's unspeakable how much handsomeness is in this gif.)

An actual ANGEL for body doubling if you have ADHD and you’re trying to handle the depression hoarder situation in your bedroom. Super respectful and understanding. He just enjoys spending time with his loved ones so he would gladly come help if you want it or just keep the both of you company. Because clearly body doubling does not with you and Joon together. You just make it a bigger mess. Acknowledging this: Jimin finds this chaos hilarious and doesn’t do anything to stop. Ya’ll are wild and unkempt and honestly? Jiminie is here for it.

Side note: I am particularly attached to Jimin in this gif. Look how beautiful. Look how handsome. I swear, that man is dangerous. We are all very, very, very lucky that he's such a sweetheart because don't act like if he asked you for a kidney that you wouldn't immediately start looking for something to carve with . And if that happened to be a spoon, we'd all just accept our fate. Don't lie.

Extra Sidenote: Namjoon be looking extra delectable. *chef's kiss*

Taehyung: (A/N: First of all, damn Namjoon. Those arms. Sweet lord. I'm looking, Joonie. Respectfully, of course..... but I do be lookin. Second, does Taehyung not look like the most precious creature in all the land?)

A precious darling. He does not give a shit about the mess. He just loves his hyung. He loves his hyung’s love. Ya’ll are special to him and that’s how you are. He thinks it is part of ya’ll’s charm and your charm as a couple. Ya’ll are a messy couple but not in the having your dirty laundry out for everyone to see way. In a “aw, Jiminie, look at them. They are such tragic disasters but they’re disasters together.” kind of way. He will find a way to make it romantic no matter what.

Jungkook: (A/N: Just Jungkook out here living his best y/n life, honestly, lol. )

Ok, so here’s the thing, lol. Jungkookie has had his own issues with messes here and there. Also, let's be honest.... he's got the fattest crush on Namjoon, lol. His crush on Namjoon may even rival the crush I have on Hoseok. Like, I kinda doubt it because there ain't much I wouldn't do for that man but still. Jungkook loves him's Namjoonie. He loves all that Namjoon-ah is associated with. He's his biggest fan, lol. With you, it is honestly the same. Like... his hyung is in love? Who is this person that has captured the heart of the most magnificent Namjoonie? If you managed to do that and Namjoon is happy.... honestly Jungkook adores you. Regardless of the hopeless fucking messes that the both of you clearly are. He and Taehyung share this but in addition to this, Jungkookie will literally help you with anything you need. He just wants to hang out with you both so he'll do like his Jimin hyung and either just chill while you sort or he'll help you. Or just hang out in the chaos and not solve anything, lol. He just loves his hyung and he loves his hyung's love as well. It's as simple as that.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading my content and thank you so much to @alisoncdariel for commissioning this piece! I hope you enjoy it!

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setsugekka · 1 year

Text

『paradise lost』 ; 01

❝ do you ever wonder? ❞

↳ finding out about one of your friends spending a night with your best friend changes the trajectory of the way you view him...forever and for always.

⎯ ୨series mlist୧ ⎯ ○ ⎯ ୨next୧ ⎯

『 pairing 』 : kim hongjoong x fem!reader

『 genre 』 : friends to lovers, romance, explicit sexual content.

『 rating 』 : mature

『 word count 』 : 10k

『 warnings 』 : drinking, smoking, sexually explicit content: unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (f rec), (nice) dirty talking, light possession play, light humiliation play.

“Have you ever done it?”

“No, of course not.”

“Have you ever thought about it?”

“Definitely not.”

An admission of complete truth: you hadn't.

That was, of course, until you had.

It had been four years since that gloomy Thursday evening — rain drizzling and water pooling on the sidewalks from the numerous days prior that the weather had also made itself to be less than pleasantly known; you had made the mistake of putting off shopping for sewing materials for too long, materials you now needed and had no choice but to brave the elements to acquire.

Atypical of you for sure, calling a cab to haul yourself around town, but with the weather in such disarray, it was a last ditch effort, and in a hurry you remember the sequence of events as if they had transpired just yesterday. He also doesn't often let you forget: the grabbing of your bag from the seat next to you in the back of the car, and the harsh swing of the car door — not another thought present to you besides the acquisition of your items and the hastiest way in which you could find your way back home.

That swing of the car door. Only seconds later followed by a shrill “oh shit” and a loud thud accompanying, with enough force to slam the door right back shut in your face.

“I still kind of feel like you did it on purpose, how did you not see me?”

“I didn't look! I was just trying to get in and out, I didn't think about it!”

Your best friend raises his eyebrows, rim of his glass pressed to his lips with a hum and the sound reverberating inside of the emptiness where no more drink resides. His response is almost silent, but it speaks the same words he always does when the topic is revisited.

That he doesn't believe you. That he one hundred percent believes you meant to annihilate him with a taxi car door in the pouring rain.

Kim Hongjoong. Art student when the two of you met, now turned art guy. Relatively accomplished by his own right, nothing fancy but enough to get by and comfortably at that. The kind of bizarre stereotype of an alternative guy who has Michael Jackson and My Chemical Romance on the same playlist and buys five hundred dollar Jordans second-hand even in spite of the markup in price just because he wants to reform them himself. A little eccentric, no stranger to the occasional binger, but he was kind. Thoughtful and available in ways that you, over the years, often found surprising. Through tough break-ups and family disasters, Hongjoong was somehow always available. On the night that your boyfriend of two years broke up with you — and even though he had only just moved into his loft apartment; with only his bed and some loose couch cushions for furniture, before you knew it you were waking up alone among the comfort of his pillows and blankets, only to gaze down at the man — curled up onto the cushions like a cat in the living room area, as if it not his first time in such a scenario.

He was your best friend. You don't recall the conversation happening, though. No large, fanciful declaration of fondness from either of you but the nights together at his place grew longer and with less time in between them. When he needed help painting the walls or shopping for interior, he called you.

And when he finally announced his place having been “finished,” it was you that he called over for a movie and drinks. Just you.

One thing you had gathered over the years, was that Kim Hongjoong didn't date. Perhaps not in the traditional sense. Maybe he saw people, but he didn't have a partner — not that you could ever tell. In all of the years the two of you had been together, through all of the partners of yours that you had introduced him to, the opposite had never occurred. Hongjoong's private life was simply never a topic that had ever come up — because he never brought it up.

Pulling your attention back to the present — watching the man in front of you with dark turquoise blue hair, crimped, curly and messy in his face order another drink, the memories pull a smile across your lips, catching him off guard as the waitress waltzes away to retrieve the next round.

“What?” he asks, cautiously inquisitive, as if worried he's done something wrong.

“Nothing,” you answer casually, “just thinking about all the years we've been friends.”

Raising an eyebrow again, curious as always, Hongjoong leans forward across the small wooden table of the bar that the two of you currently reside in and smirks. “What about them?”

The waitress comes back faster than expected, and Hongjoong pulls himself back upright to thank her before settling back into his somewhat domineering position. Expectant. As if the conversation has now taken some sort of quiet turn into a power struggle, of sorts.

It hasn't, and you know that. He just naturally carries this sort of essence. Unmanageable confidence and conviction. Sometimes, you think that you've never known anyone who knew themselves as well as he did.

And truthfully, you loved watching it. As if being around him rubbed off on you in some magical, intangible way.

“I don't know,” you start, taking a sip from your new glass. “That I'm glad, I guess.”

“Me too.” he quickly chirps in response, and somehow, the unrelated reply jogs your memory about another topic you had meant to inquire about.

“Oh! While we're here, are you going to be able to come with me to do fabric shopping tonight? I know we never made concrete plans but...since we're here.”

You watch Hongjoong shake his head gently in response, swallowing the brown liquid quickly in an effort to explain as soon as possible. “Can't, got plans tonight, actually should head out soon.” he adds, illuminating the screen on his phone to check the time.

“Damn,” you sigh, checking your own phone as well. “Alright, well let's get you out of here then, Mister.”

It's playful, and Hongjoong rolls his eyes in response as he grabs his things and stands up from the table. The both of you pay on your way out of the bar and upon exiting, still in front of the large doors of the establishment. A trendy, sort of dusty place that Hongjoong likes — out of the way for you, but you're happy to oblige his peculiar tastes.

“What are you up to, anyways?” you ask, innocently enough, but your interest becomes all the more piqued when he elects not to indulge you with the details of his evening.

“Just got some stuff goin' on,” he says, tossing his bag onto his shoulder and giving a half grin, “I'll text you later?”

It wasn't particularly unlike Hongjoong to leave out information, in fact, it may have been less like him to indulge you with all of the details — but something about that instance, you found bouncing around in your mind for the rest of the evening.

Grabbing your fabrics from the store and heading back to your apartment, your best friend and whatever happenings he has going on for him are quickly dismissed from your mind as your girl friends all begin staggering in for the evening. Wine, music and chatting — it has been quite a bit since all of you able to get together for a night in, and after finding a nice corner for you to not so beautifully shove all of your sewing projects in, the lot of you all clinked your glasses and got the night underway.

“So, anything new going on? Any new interests?” one friend asks, and she always was the nosiest one.

“No, no, nothing like that,” you respond, hand gently waving in the air as if to dismiss the words physically. “If it were anything like that, you guys wouldn't be here right now.”

Laughter erupting in the joint dining and living area of your condo, the same friend then leans in towards you — nearly empty glass in hand and quite evidently feeling the effects of such, she smiles a wickedly coy turn of the lip before speaking quietly. “How's your friend?”

Not the first time he's been made the topic of discussion, and certainly wouldn't be the last. You roll your eyes with the insistence of again? but play along all the same. “He's fine.”

“Oh, you're asking the wrong girl!”

It's a comment from across the room, and pulls both of your attention to it immediately. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you almost can't even comprehend the turn which the conversation has taken.

That is, until you see the bright red ears of the friend sitting next to her loud-mouth roommate, and slowly but surely, the pieces start coming together. You can't even help the genuine, audible, shock-response. The gasp and widened eyes, hand pulled up and over your gaping mouth.

“You what?” and before she even has a chance to consider answering, you double down again, “Him? You? Wow.”

Humiliated in jest and with a face now hidden away behind hands, your mouth still lies open with surprise. It isn't the fact that they did, but more so the confirmation that he even really sees anyone at all. Someone that stands such a low profile romantically, socially, sexually — you were sort of anticipating never seeing the day where you were to be faced with the knowledge of the fact that Hongjoong might actually be a sexual being.

Not really information you needed or even really cared about, but intriguing nonetheless; if for no reason other than you being nosy.

“Imagine my surprise when I had to pick her up from the same place I've picked you up from like fifteen times.”

Now you're really gobsmacked.

“Wait, tonight!?” you certainly can't hide your shock now, “You were with him tonight!?”

Bashful-friend falls backwards onto the couch in an attempt to escape the cascade of humiliation befalling her, but to no avail. “I was out with Hongjoong tonight, he told me he had something to do but I didn't think he meant one of my friends!”

“Oh — are you jealous?” another friend pipes up, but you're more than willing to shoot the thought down with confidence. “No, I'm just — surprised he wouldn't tell me, I suppose.”

The room falls silent for a moment, originally-nosy-friend snorts at the turn of events and begins pouring you and herself another glass of wine but the friend insistent on causing problems on purpose that night has other plans on the agenda: cause more problems, of course.

If you were able to go back in time, stop yourself from hearing certain things, or seeing certain things; keep parts of your consciousness locked behind doors that you never were aware of — looking back, you think that you might. Looking back, you remember how quickly it all happened, and how doomed you were from the word 'go.'

How, sincerely, you didn't stand a chance.

It only takes a moment, after all. One piece of information that works its way into your mind, forever changing the way you think of someone, or something. The way you view art, or a film, or hear music.

Or see someone.

“So then,” the friend begins, leaning down towards the girl attempting to melt into your couch. “How was it? How is he?”

“Oh man, come on,” you groan, not interested in hearing the intimate details past this point. Sure, you had been curious about his goings on, but you've learned quite enough now.

“Let her speak,” the friend says, reaching down and shaking the girl with the red ears, hands still completely covering her face — but once the room stills and silence takes it once again, she breaths deeply, slowly exposing her reddened face and staring at the ceiling, she speaks.

“Fucking incredible.”

Whoa, you didn't expect that.

“The best I've ever been with, like —“ and pausing, she leans up to make eye contact with you, your own features heating at the words already spoken, “Sorry, you probably don't want to hear about this—“

You urge her on, insist that it's not a big deal. It really isn't.

You think.

“So attentive and intimate and just—“ and she pauses again, as if taking a moment to relive the experience in her mind before carrying on to expose more of the details of her love life with your best friend. “I can't explain it, sex with him was like...on another level, like nothing I've ever experienced.”

Hongjoong? Your best friend, Hongjoong? That guy?

And nosy-friend pipes up again, gleaming with excitement at the dirty narration of events. “So are you guys like...a thing? Seeing each other?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” she answers quickly, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you that you neither understand nor are proud of. “Was just a one time thing — I mean, I would, but he was pretty clear about what he wants so that's fine.”

Clear about what he wants? One time, no strings attached sex?

You're not proud of the fact that this information remains to be the only thing on your mind for the rest of the night. Through more glasses of wine, more stories, more dancing — through it all, it's the same thought, the same visage in your thoughts.

Your best friend, Kim Hongjoong.

Being honest with yourself all throughout your life is something that you've found to be very important.

It's taken years to get to a place where you could. Where you could just sit down with yourself and be clear and concise about your feelings, your desires, your thoughts — but you had reached that place. Somewhere in adulthood, you managed it — it isn't perfect, but functional enough.

Albeit, sometimes the things you have had to make peace with haven't been your favorite. This was one of those things.

Three days since the night you had the ladies over, Hongjoong had texted you that evening just as he said he would, and you opted out of responding. Not necessarily unusual, but the two of you remained in frequent enough contact that you knew the ongoing silence was going to start to ring some alarm bells.

But you simply don't know how to deal with it. Deal with it. Thinking it even to just yourself pained you, and you really wondered how you allowed things to spiral out of control to this point. Maybe you should just fuck someone. Not him, but someone else.

Because, well, you wanted to fuck him.

But you haven't seen him since before you found this information out, and perhaps it was simply a false alarm. Having the knowledge of your best friend being some sort of sex god is not so easy to swallow, as it seems, especially when you tend to be living entirely unfucked, currently.

It really has been all you have thought about since that night, though. Unending visuals of him and you in scenarios and positions you had never even considered for a moment prior. Sure, you had always thought Hongjoong was attractive — obviously he was — but your friendship together has simply never taken that turn, not even for a moment. Not on his end, and certainly not on yours. You've agonized for days since then, trying to remember a moment in time where maybe, just maybe, Hongjoong had tried to put the moves on you. Tried to make something happen, and you failed to find with each and every passing thought.

It seemed as though, in all four years of your friendship, Hongjoong truly did only ever view you as a friend.

Mindlessly thumbing through pages of a fabric book, zoned out and once again lost in the same thoughts you had been for days since, it's the vibration of a notification received on your phone that jolts you back to reality — and not thankfully so, because you don't have to check to know who it's from.

>Hongjoong: what the fuck dude lol

you: oh hey

>Hongjoong: don't oh hey me you've been ignoring me for days???

you: i've just been busy omg you're so needy??

>Hongjoong: you're such a dick lmao whatever do you wanna go to the bar tonight?

The question makes your skin crawl in a way that it typically wouldn't. An otherwise normal, casual, everyday sort of inquiry, now adorned with shiny new appeal that only you — the receiver — are privy to. A few minutes pass as you get lost in your thoughts before your phone vibrates again.

>Hongjoong: wow are you really ghosting me again already

you: sorry I got caught up in this fabric book yeah let’s go, what time?

>Hongjoong: uhh it's like 5 now so idk, 7?

you: yeah that's good i'll see you there

>Hongjoong: cool will you stop being so fuckin weird then?

you: buy me a drink and I will consider it hehe

Hongjoong opts not to respond again — not unusual of his texting habits as the time and date has already been set, but the open-endedness of the night leaves you writhing in anticipation. Could it happen? Do you even want it to happen? In all likelihood, the actual doing of banging your best friend tends to change the relationship forever, and you aren't entirely sure if that is something you are willing to commit to.

Yes, you wanted him. Yes, you are curious, but are you willing to throw it all away to sate those desires? You really can't say.

Having already been out and with things to do upon plans being made, regrettably, you aren't sitting at what you felt to be your highest rate of sex appeal. You look fine, sure — hell, even good, but if you're going to try to make a move, you'd have liked to have time to make a bit more of an effort.

Standing outside the front doors of the bar, you're not waiting long before the familiar silhouette of your short-statured friend strolls up, cigarette in one hand and a bottle of half-empty beer in another. Torn up gray wash jeans and a simple white tank under a black blazer — colorful paint splotches adorning it, it's easy to tell where he has just come from.

“Busy night?” you playfully jab, grabbing towards the bottle in his hand as he pulls it away from you.

“Uh-uh, you're not a very nice friend! Leaving me on read for days at a time!” he quips back, black painted fingernails and cigarette daintily hanging between two of them as he points towards you with squinted eyes, as if examining you.

And you are so gleefully comforted by his inability to read inside of your head at this moment, because you can't help but think how sexy he looks, and how doomed you truly are from here on out.

But really — and you know this as well — nothing has changed. Hongjoong has shown up to your meetings like this time and time again, already with a buzz and reeking of smoke and paint thinner — this is nothing more or less than the guy you're friends with, and always have been. The only thing that has changed, is you.

“I told you I was busy,” you respond as Hongjoong pushes you inside of the building, ordering drinks with a quick wave of his hand to a regular bartender who knows him and setting the both of you down at a table in the corner. You can't help yourself now — watching his every move more intently than you ever have before: blowing blue curls out of his eyes before placing another cigarette between his lips and bringing his hands up and around to light it, you look at his hands, small but pretty — well kept because he frequently goes for manicures, which then only brings your attention to the length at which he keeps his fingernails...for very specific purposes, and you can feel the flush of heat pooling in your ears again already before the bartender interrupts to bring the drinks — that, which you are thankful for.

“Right so,” he begins, taking a sip of his cocktail and leaning forward over the table towards you, “what's been going on with you?”

You know what he means, but you seek a way out of acknowledging it.

Taking a sip of your own drink, you simply shrug and smile. “I told you, just busy!”

Hongjoong hums at the response, taking a swig of his own drink followed by a puff of his cigarette, but never for a moment breaking eye contact with you as he glares you down. His stare feels intense — almost stifling, inescapable in so many ways — though you find you may not want to escape, either. A natural domineering aura to him that while always there, only now lights something deep within you. A newly unlocked side of you that you wish for him to explore.

“You're lying,” he says with totality, squinting briefly again but leaning back in his chair, still watching you intently. You don't show weakness, and carry on with the contest. “Why didn't you text me back that night?”

“I was busy, girls were over.”

By now, you figure he's aware that you are aware, and now it's just a question of how the two of you are to navigate the waters of arriving at the point, and then out of the jungle that is the awkwardness of having such information.

It's not awkward for you, you want what she had, but navigating that is a whole other forest in and of itself, and it would have to wait until you've made it out of the weeds of this one.

You watch a grin take Hongjoong's features, his eyes finally shifting away and him huffing through his nose. You watch him take the side of his bottom lip between his teeth — just briefly, before sighing and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Aha, so you know. She told you.”

Part of you wants to deflect, play the game, pretend you don't know what he's referring to, but the longer it drags out the further you get from your goal, and at this point just being in his presence this long, you find, is having an unbelievably adverse affect on your ability to maintain a cool, calm, and collected stance.

He's just a friend; something you have to constantly remind yourself through the visual of him bending you over the bathroom sink in the back of the bar.

Face contorting into what appears to be a wince, Hongjoong brings his cigarette-free hand up to run it through his hair before rolling his eyes and taking another drag.

You're surprised by how genuinely disgruntled he finds this information.

“Guess I kinda knew she would, I mean, I was hoping for the best but—“ he says, stamping the white stick between his fingers out into the ashtray and taking another sip of his drink. “This is why I don't fuck friends of friends.” he finishes the thought, tipping his glass towards you as if signaling some sort of lazy toast to loose-lipped acquaintances.

If you're honest, you find it awkward. Taken aback by how stiff the atmosphere has become with the knowledge bestowed upon him, you find yourself unsure of what to say. You don't want to downplay his legitimate feelings of discomfort at the disclosure of his sex life, but at the same time...it's you. His best friend.

“Well,” he begins again, and you're thankful for the break in silence on his end.

“What did she say?”

Nevermind, not thankful.

And of course, you don't want to lie. She said you were abysmal, that sucks, because he probably knows otherwise anyway, but telling him the glowing review might make the journey for yourself just that much trickier. What if they continue on together?

“She said—“

“Actually, nevermind, I don't want to know.”

“You sure?” Surprised, you almost beg to grant him information you weren't thrilled about him knowing to begin with.

Hongjoong snorts, drinking the rest of the liquid from his glass down and setting the empty thing on the table in front of him, pulling forward with elbows firmly planted and leaning towards you again. “No—“ he sing-songs in response, “you'd probably be mad at me if she said I was selfish or bad, which I know I'm neither, but you're nosy and annoying so I'm sure you'd be upset with me for something already.”

“I'm annoying? Says the guy running through my friend group.”

“Hey! That's not fair! It was one person, we hit it off back at that party in October. It's not a big deal.”

Smiling, you wave down the bartender to order another drink before Hongjoong stops you suddenly. “Hey, would you be okay with taking this party back to my place? I kinda have some shit I wanna work on.”

Not an unusual request, again, for your friendship. The anticipation pools in your gut all the same, however. You agree.

Hongjoong's loft is always precisely what you would expect it to be.

What that means, in totality, is that it perfectly exemplifies the man himself: right down to the old, broken down lock that holds the door together while he's gone, one that you've insisted time and time again that he get replaced as it neither holds a lock well or unlocks particularly well either, but he stands firm that it's a piece of the puzzle. As everything around him is. Every single minute part, however simple or intricate, Hongjoong always has a purpose or a vision. It's far from the first time you've entered his place, but this time it feels different. You know that it's the anticipation you're placing on a series of events that only stand out to you. Gazing at the piano-painted walls — alternating; one black, then one white, then black again, and repeating all of the way around the perimeter — all of the way up to the unfathomably high ceiling, you remember the day that he signed for the place and how cheap he had gotten it due to its horrifically poor condition. One whole year of friendship dedicated to refurbishing his home, and time you find that you would never trade for anything.

Kim Hongjoong's home, that feels distinctly like your second. Your own sweat, blood and tears in every corner and crevice — knowing that he would never have it any other way.

“The kitchen is kind of a disaster—“ he begins, and you cut him off before he has a chance to explain.

"What are you doing to it now? The kitchen was the only nice thing about this place when you bought it.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, stepping through some cardboard box towers of who knows what on his way towards the dining room space. “I think that's why I kind of hate it, though.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Dunno, I'll figure it out.”

You're unsurprised when the two of you make it to the arched opening to find that the majority of the nice marble and tiling — the only thing that had made the apartment worth anything at all to begin with when purchased, has already been torn apart by the man with the blue hair standing just in front of you.

“So you tore it up before you had a plan on what you wanted to do with it.” Not a question, a statement.

Hongjoong hesitates before replying, but only for a second. As if hearing it out loud for once has caused him to realize how truly insane it actually sounds. “Yeah, guess so. Drink?”

Nodding, you continue looking around, trying not to step on chunks of marble and stone that lie scattered across the area like a construction site. You figure, if it were anyone else, living in this sort of chaos would make a man go mad — but for Hongjoong, this is where he thrives. His creative process, how he functions and works best, is among the chaos of things and people. A man that grows tired of anything he sees too much of, and quickly, at that. Painting walls and tearing up fixtures and changing his hair color...all just examples of the ways in which Hongjoong thrives in the mayhem of everlasting change.

You come to find eventually that the only constant in Hongjoong's life is you.

And this thought does not weigh on you lightly, the implications slightly dizzying, you try not to think too much of it. That's typical of friendship, which is true. But also—

“Hey, are you okay for real?”

With the sudden inquiry pulling you out of your shaky head space, you have to quickly come back down to earth. “Y-Yeah, why?”

Hongjoong's eyebrows furrow playfully, he looks at you as if you have three heads on your shoulders. “You've been so weird tonight.”

It's true, and you know it. Pressing your back against one of the only intact counter tops next to the fridge where the man shuffles through items, you take a deep breath before continuing on in an effort to save the evening, and your dignity.

“Yeah, just a lot on my mind I guess, busy.”

“Like what?”

Well, he wasn't supposed to ask.

Now, you are faced with a decision. Shoot your shot and have it pay off, thus getting what you desire and potentially changing your friendship forever, shoot your shot and be denied, with the same potential outcome, or do nothing. Carry on as if you never learned this information, and as if your desire for him never changed.

Easier said than done.

“Umm, I guess—“ you begin, then follow it up with a deep inhale and closing of your eyes. You hear Hongjoong shut the refrigerator door and shift to stand next to you as he sets up beverages of some sort, but you choose to ignore him in an effort to focus on your plan. You're going to do this. You've got to do this.

“—Been thinking about what she said, about you...and her.”

And once the words leave your mouth, what feels like hundreds of other worries quickly replace the ones you've just allowed free. You worry that it's not enough, that you'll have to elaborate. You worry that it is enough, and that he'll find it weird that you're even thinking about it, caught up in it.

It's the huff through his nose that you hear from your right side that lets you know he very much is aware of what you mean. Followed then by a gentle hum, and the man next to you only carries on with the drink making that he had begun.

Slowly prying your eyes open to survey the scene, what you suspected to be the case has been just that: Hongjoong next to you, a delicate curl to the corners of his mouth as he simply continues making the both of you the cocktails that he had originally set out to.

“That's all?” he finally says.

You sort of feel as though you should lie and say 'yes.'

You don't get a chance to, though.

He's fast, his shift in movement from next to you to in front of you, and the first thing you feel is the distinct press of his fingertips against the skin of your exposed thigh — you hadn't worn a skirt for this purpose, as you had already been out anyway when he contacted you, but you now thank 'you' from the past thoroughly.

The touch is light, delicate. Barely felt as the tips dance across the skin, and slowly crawling up. Your breath hitches in your throat once your brain is finally able to catch up to the situation at hand and you're able to take in the sight before you — Hongjoong wedged between your legs, you sitting partially perched up on and against the counter top before him, and his bottom lip coyly pulled between his teeth as his gaze turns from his hand playing teasing games, to up and at you.

“Mmm, I get it,” he begins, playful lust gracing his features as he looks at you through hooded eyes. “You want what she had.”

True, but the question makes your insides swim with anticipation, exhilaration. The coming to fruition of precisely what it was that you had come to terms with desiring only days prior, but unsure if you would ever have it. Hongjoong is playful, a tease, even; but you didn't think he would go this far without intent behind his words — actions. Icy to the touch from just having been in the refrigerator, his fingertips continue upwards, leaving a cool trail of where they just seconds prior have been, and you dare not break eye contact with the man to look down at the sight as his hand disappears beneath the hem of your skirt — curling around to the outside of your leg and making faster work of inching up to hook two fingers into the side of hidden away fabric.

“The Kim Hongjoong Experience,” he chuckles out, as if in an attempt to lighten the mood, and it's only after that you realize you've been holding your breath for the duration of his hand's journey up your leg. Maybe for the best. Maybe he really does know what he's doing.

“Yes? No?” he finally asks, because you have yet to answer him, and with the words lodged in your throat along with the furor of the pending encounter, you can only nod quickly in affirmation.

His other hand carefully slides up your opposite leg to match hooked fingers on the alternate side, and with a gentle tug, you know that he's signaling for you to pull off of the counter enough to release the garment from you. Once free, you step out of it and place hands on either side of yourself for leverage against the counter. Unsure, at this point, of what to expect. Hongjoong leans forward and into you, much to your surprise — warm, soft, lips lightly against your own and it takes you a split second to realize before you're melting into the kiss, teeth grazing against bottom lips as his hands slowly place themselves back up your thighs. You can't help but feel exposed, despite not being all that much more than before — the gentle pry of your legs apart by him to accommodate the width of himself between them, and then the light placement of his palm against your core has you keening into his touch already — putty in his hands, just waiting to be molded by him.

An art piece shaped to perfection by Hongjoong, you simply want to be the next.

“Are you okay?” he whispers into your mouth, low and confident but in need of the affirmation to continue all the same. You say that you are — feeling the curl of his lips against your own just before his middle and ring fingers press between your folds with such ease that you feel the rush of heat to your cheeks. “Tell me what feels good, or doesn't.”

You nod again, focus lost on his words and demanded down between your legs — to the way that his middle finger ghosts circles over your clit, then dipping back down to the source of the wetness — deftly pressing in and accommodated with ease, but not rushing all the same. Stilling once knuckle deep, Hongjoong pulls from your lips only an inch or two, and it's as if with anticipation of hearing the whimper that falls from your bitten-red mouth once freed. You watch him as he watches you, smooth, shallow flicks of his wrist into you as to survey your every reaction — the way that he watches you is truly as if he's working, and it's not wrong. He is, in fact, working you.

“Feels good,” you manage to say, knowing that he needs to hear the words and it takes everything you can muster to get even that much out. “Good,” is all he whispers in reply, before pulling his hand back and resuming the circles against the most sensitive part of you. When you had fantasized about what it would be like, you thought you would handle it better. You expected to have a better grasp, hold out longer, not so easily melt into every touch and word he gives you. A false sense of confidence, because as short as the encounter has been you can already tell that this is Hongjoong's motive; to break you down by hand in such an intense and masterful way that you're already worried you may never get fucked like this again — not by someone else, at least. As the muscles in your legs and abdomen tighten and pull with every slow swivel of his fingers against you, you vaguely recall all of the ways in which the signs were always there that this would be the case. Vastly outclassed by him, even if he were too humble to ever admit it. You find out by accident that this is only another example of it.

“Still good?” he asks, snapping you out of your daze — a daze somewhat induced by the fact that your orgasm is already quickly approaching, and you are trying to buy yourself some time.

“Yeah, I'm close—“

“Really?” he says, eyebrows pulling upward and and surprise lacing his tone, as if it's taken less work than he had anticipated, and you might be more embarrassed if not so hopeful for your impending release.

“I think we should wait, better if you wait,” he says, slowly pulling his hand from you, the whine escaping you bringing a smile to his face as he instead takes you by the hand. “Geez, not too long. Should move to the bed, I can't work here.”

Work, such a particular and pointed vocabulary, yet exemplifying him to perfection.

Hongjoong leads you upstairs to his bed by the hand, never letting you go for even a second until you lie back against his mattress. You watch him peel his shirt off and you realize that you don't think you've ever seen him this way before then — deceptively toned, nothing excessive and clearly not from working out, but not as thin as previously thought. You watch him pry at his belt, then his pants button, and then discarding them off and to the side before he climbs up the bed and between your legs again to kiss you — this time, with far more intent than previously in the kitchen — as if this truly were where he did his best work.

Pulling off, he whispers for you to sit up, slipping your shirt over your head, then wastes no time with your bra.

“An expert, huh?” you joke at his precision, and he shrugs.

“I've done it a few times.”

“Get around, huh?” Another playful question — this time met with his groin pressed hard into your own and his mouth hot against your ear. “Maybe, does knowing that make you come?”

Typically, your answer would be “no,” but in that moment, you aren't so sure anymore.

And just as quickly, Hongjoong pulls away from you to shimmy your skirt down your legs, dropping it off the side of the bed and leaving the only clothing left on sight being his boxer briefs. He assumes the position again, hovering over you and nipping kisses along the line of your jaw.

You're still lost in the thought of him asking if something about him makes you come, though. By the second, you lose confidence in the fact that you may make it out of this experience the same woman that you went in as.

Hongjoong slips down, kissing along the skin of your neck, and meeting with your breast, hand working the opposite in tandem as his tongue swirls over the other and you involuntarily arch your back into him, hand smoothing upwards and nestling into his hair, he makes it a point to pull off only enough to look up and at you — the visual of his tongue dipped out of his mouth and against your flesh as he stares at you enough to make the arousal crash over, you drop your head back down against the mattress. “God,” you whisper, as if exhausted already.

“I'm gonna eat you out, if that's okay,” you hear him question, and you don't bother looking up at him to agree, needing a break from the bombardment of visual stimulation you've already had to suffer through thus far. “Yeah, okay.”

Hongjoong slides down further between your legs, lips loosely pressed to various places on your torso as he makes his way down to pry your legs apart. “Can you not come?” he asks, gently sliding a single finger up your slit. You sort of don't know what he's even asking of you.

“What?”

“Want to wait, it's better if you wait,” he reinstates from earlier in the kitchen, but you thought he meant he was going to make you come now and not even later, but you figure he has a plan. Regardless, curiosity does get the best of you.

“I don't know. Why?”

He chuckles against the inside of one of your thighs, in between pecks. You're still opting out of looking at him. You can only imagine how fucking sinful he looks now, if he looked like that just a second ago from your chest, and if he's asking you not to come, then looking you cannot.

“I like it,” he starts, and the drop in his tone is equally sinful, “a lot.”

You don't have to be a literary genius to put the logic together that he's telling you he likes to eat pussy, and quite probably more than you're able to hold out for. Knowledge that's dizzying in and of itself. Stand alone. Then there's everything else about the night accompanying it, as well. You weren't going to make it out of this alive.

“Might have to—“ you're cut off by Hongjoong's mouth making contact with your most sensitive flesh, enough to make you jolt up the bed at the suddenness of it. You hear him chuckle under his breath in response, but you focus on the task at hand. “Might have to wait.”

You realize the answer doesn't even make much sense, but it's all your goo-brain can muster, and Hongjoong seems to understand it well enough, replying with a simple “next time, then” and another press of his tongue into you, but one thing remains in the fore front of your mind.

Next time?

A pointed swirl of the tongue against you, and the thought is lost — thighs threatening to clamp down against his head in spite of his attempt to hold you open for him, you huff out an “oh god,” at the rush, tossing an arm up and over your face in an attempt to ground yourself. You absolutely are not going to make it for whatever sort of marathon cunnilingus session Hongjoong had hoped to have tonight, but with the way his mouth is working you in such little time, you're happy to let him have his way in the future. Bringing a hand up and pressing the same two fingers from before into you once again, the arch of your back has you involuntarily pushing yourself down and against his mouth even more — much to his delight, as far as you can tell, from the way the gentle suction of his lips against you briefly intensifies.

“Good, feels good,” you stammer, breath shaky and trying not to allude to the fact that you're close again as if hoping to come before he's able to stop you, but as a man tailored to the craft, Hongjoong picks up on all of the signs; even as a new and previously unexplored partner — slowing his ministrations against you to eventually pull himself away entirely, and much to your dismay.

“Can't trust you to tell me.” he laughs, and you bring your arm off your face just in time to watch the man before you sit back and on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before giving you a look that so distinctly tells you that you've misbehaved.

“You're insane,” you huff out in response, and it brings him to a chuckle again.

“I've heard that before.”

Crawling back up the length of your body, Hongjoong wastes no time pressing his lips hard into your own, this time much more aggressive than the previous — more teeth than before, breathing heavier and more ragged — groin pressed into the apex of your thighs a bit more snugly, but the feeling of it, the need to feel him, see him, weighs heavier and heavier on you. As he pulls away from your mouth to trail kisses back down your jaw and toward your ear, you whisper out to him, “want to taste you,” and much to your surprise, he shoots the idea down immediately.

“Next time,” Hongjoong answers swiftly, a heavy whisper into your ear and deep press of himself against you again, it feels like a bid to get you to forget, to change the subject. Like he doesn't want you to, yet doesn't want to say that.

“But I want to,” you plead, an assumption that he may think you don't really want to and are only offering because he has been so gracious, but it's the following giggle into your ear — a tickle with the puff of his breath and his hand floating up to the side of your face, opposite of where he reside, thumb tracing your bottom lip to eventually lightly hook into the corner of your mouth — you welcome it, tongue swirling against the black painted finger, you pull a groan from his throat, almost pained, dripping with elicit desire and want.

“Next time,” he reiterates. “Not about me.”

You conclude that tonight — the first time — he makes all about his partner, although his insistence on there being a next time rings heavy in your ears as someone well aware of his alleged “policies.”

And yeah, you want to suck him off, but you want to allow him the reigns of the experience even more. Next time, then.

Hongjoong pulls himself up again, kneeling between your legs and runs a hand through his disheveled, blue hair. “I don't usually do this, but since we're close—“ he starts, and it's the first time you can tell through the entire experience that he seems uncertain of anything.

“I have condoms, but—“ and he pauses again, you realize you're watching him think through this in real time, that it must have been a thought that came to him only just now in this moment. “Obviously it's fine if you want to use one, just saying.”

Looking him dead in the eyes, you ask, “How often do you give partners this option?” and immediately, he responds.

“I don't.”

“Then I kind of—“ and you pause, a wash of humiliation taking you in the moment at how desperate you realize you are to feel him, and paired with the fact that you're getting an experience that no one else does. The Kim Hongjoong Experience? Then what was this?

Corner of his lip curling only briefly, Hongjoong settles back down against you to kiss you; lips, jaw, chin, down to your neck and around to the juncture where your ear meets. Humming into your skin, hand dipping down and between the two of you to gently press into you and work you open for him again, you moan into the touch. “Ahhh,” he says, an innocent enough passing commentary that you think is about your maintained slickness.

“So you really want to feel me, hm?”

You realize then, that he's referring to your willingness to go without protection, but the words send the arousal pooling in your gut straight south more, tightening around the fingers already buried inside of you. Now he truly knows where you stand.

“You like when I talk dirty,” he adds. Not a question, but a statement. He knows this, and is simply informing you of the newfound knowledge that he has acquired. “Can I?” he asks, and without being entirely sure of what it is that he's asking permission for, you grant it with a quick nod, followed by the feeling of him removing his hands from you and freeing himself from his own confines.

Hongjoong rests his weight on one forearm as his other hand remains between the two of you, head buried into your neck as he slowly rubs the tip of himself along you — collecting the wetness but not yet pushing in, you reel at the feeling of being so, so, close and still not having it. You're not one to beg for dick, but you're certainly reaching a point where you might have to. Hips pressing up and against him in an attempt to feel more, you hear him snort in laughter — hot puffs of breath against the skin of your neck and face at your neediness for him. “God, you want it so bad, you poor thing, how have you made it this long?”

In truth, “this long” has only been a few days, but at this point, you're not sure how either with the intensity in which you need to feel him inside of you.

“Joong, I—“ you start, but you insist to yourself on not wanting to beg for it. He picks up on it too quickly, though.

“Yes?”

“Don't play.” It's not begging, you're just asking nicely.

“It's okay to ask for what you want,” he whispers in response, nearly pressing into you enough to enter, but only with intention of egging you on. “I'll give you anything you want.”

Hot and laced with want, but more than that, the desire to please, and you can't help yourself any longer. “Joong, please,” you respond, and he hums at your compliance as he slowly sinks himself into you until his hips meet flush with your own. Hongjoong stills once you are made full with him, bringing his arm back up to bear equal weight on both sides and interlocking his own fingers with your own, you find the experience of finally having him inside of you intense. Intimate. Passionate and raw for all of the obvious reasons but even beyond that, you find that it's the way he looks at you from atop you — takes in your every movement and breath and sound that is truly what makes him the lover he has allegedly been made out to be.

The first withdraw, followed with a glide forward of his hips is slow like the first, the second and third similar. Then he shuffles himself in position slightly and retracts again — this time, the roll of his hips forward has you gasping out. He notices, with the way his face changes, as if he has found what it is that he's been looking for. You realize that he has.

Nothing about sex with this man occurs by accident. Everything carefully planned out in accordance to precisely how and when he plans on making you come.

Your breath hitching in your throat as you attempt to swallow down a particularly pathetic whimper, you watch him smile in response to it, as if he's having fun being the unraveling of you.

“Feel good?” he asks, and you respond “yes” in a gasp as his hips snap back into you at the same angle, but quicker and with more force. The feeling nearly knocks conscious thought out of you completely, the aftermath has you reeling. “Good, I'm gonna move, okay?”

Nodding, Hongjoong kisses you before pulling up and to his knees again, still buried inside of you but once again adjusting his positioning, he places his hands at your waist and pulls you down against him, your feet planted flat on either side of his hips, knees bent, and you realize now that he's constructed the perfect angle.

He draws back again, this time pulling you onto his cock with more force than his own push, but with the weight behind it as well as the angle, you immediately reach down and grip into the bed sheets. “Fuck,” you whimper, then another snap of his hips, “fuck, fuck, Joong—“

“That good, huh?” he replies, almost as if the scene before him is simply an experiment and you're the test subject. Just a man on a journey to find the most optimal angle, albeit, you don't imagine that's too far from the case.

“Fuck, I think—“ the words falling from your lips sooner than you're able to stop them, and Hongjoong chuckles in response.

“God, can't do anything to you or else you'll come.”

It's humiliating, and kind of true.

“Might have to just let you so we can really have fun.” he continues on, changing position again so that he lie atop you just as the two of you had started, and you'd be lying if you said that the idea of it didn't excite you.

“Didn't know you wanted it this bad,” he says, snaking an arm down to hook under your knee to grant a new angle, and you groan first in response to the sudden, hard drive of himself into you, then at the contact of his lips to your jaw.

He's clearly better at having conversations throughout, you already feeling completely fucked out, and having lost the ability to form coherent thought, you want to play along nonetheless. “I didn't know either, not until—“

The knowledge makes him still for just a second, then a slow, deep grind into you in response. “Hearing it from her did it?”

You nod, it's all you can do with the thick drag of him against you and pelvis pressed firm, but you notice that the information is exciting to him, that much is clear.

Hongjoong shifts positions enough so that he's able to pull your wrists up, clasping both of yours together and over your head — quite a switch up from how things had just been, but the grin on his features tells you that he has something in particular at play, something you're excited to become privy to. He settles back down between your legs, carefully restraining you and solidly kissing you on the mouth again, tongue hard against your own before pulling away — and for the first time that night, the look in his eye is almost animalistic. Primal.

“Tsk, tsk,” he finally starts after a myriad of movements. “You only want me because someone else had me, is that it?”

Hongjoong snaps his hips again, this time harder than ever before, and at just the right angle — he has you crying out already, and much to his pleasure.

“You can have me too, but you won't want anyone else after,” he adds, now fixed into a steady drive that makes your skin feel like it's electric, body weight pressed firm against you to free up his hand to rub fingers into the narrow space between the both of your hips. “You'll just have to be mine, you okay with that?”

You nod, only pathetic whimpers falling from your lips as your eyes clench shut at the swiftness in which your orgasm approaches. Hongjoong never relents in rubbing or talking you through it, fucking into you hard as his fingers dig brutally into the wrists held over your head.

“Look at me,” Hongjoong says, the whisper in which he says it betraying the sort of demand it feels so strongly to be, and you follow his direction all the same in spite of its difficulty. “You like it?”

“Yes” you whisper, airy and fucked out.

“You want to come?”

“Yes,” you manage out, but you're losing the ability by the second.

“If you come, you're mine, you know that right?”

You don't care how insane he sounds, because the things that he's saying to you have you clenching hard around him, and every muscle in your body tightening painfully, desperate for the release he's dangling in front of you — any second now at the precipice of granting you what you need from him so badly, so badly that you'll say anything he wants to have it.

“Please, please, Joong—“ you beg, unbeknownst to you until you hear the words in your own ears, and you watch the way Hongjoong's eyes darken at the sound, bottom lip pulled up between his teeth as he pulls his attention down and to the place where the two of you meet.

“Where do I come?” he asks suddenly and with a shake in his voice, his strokes becoming longer, fuller — you know that he's asking because he needs to know now.

“Inside, ple—“ and you don't get to finish the thought before he's reaffirming your choice. “You sure?”

“Yes,” you exclaim, almost annoyed at his insistence on being such a thorough lover, but it's enough for him then, drives into you hard and long again only a few more times before the coil in your abdomen snaps with the promise of release and you do — hard — harder than you think you ever have before, and if it weren't for the fact that his industrial loft came with the added bonus of no neighbors, you'd be sure that he'd be receiving numerous noise complaints after tonight. Hongjoong fucks you through your high, calmly praising you through it about how well you take him, how well you did, until he reaches his own orgasmic inevitability — fingernails still dug deep into the skin of your wrists as he gently strokes himself through his own and burying deep against you.

Nearly collapsing soon after, but having the awareness to catch his weight before crushing you, Hongjoong rolls himself off and to the side with chest heaving and one hand sloppily pressing hair from off of his glistening forehead.

You take the free moments to stare at the ceiling above, unable to move. The post-coital fuzziness of mind-altering orgasmic euphoria still ever-present and coursing through every nerve in your body.

Hongjoong coughs, throat dry from the previous activities before managing to speak.

“Hey uhh, I didn't mean all that stuff by the way—“ he begins, taking on a tone as if to mock himself. “Like about you being 'mine' and all that, was just dirty talking you since you seemed to like it.”

You laugh, “I know.”

“You okay?”

You inhale deeply, still attempting to catch your breath, and as a result, the “yes” you exhale in response sounds entirely spent. Pleased.

Sitting up on your elbows, you look to your side at him, chest still rising and falling with a bit of quickness.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yup.”

“You kept saying 'next time,'” you begin, slightly worried that you may ruin the afterglow of the night. “Did you mean that?”

“Yeah, why wouldn't I?” It's a quick response. “Obviously we don't have to if you don't want to, you won't hurt my feelings.”

“I dunno,” you answer, even though you do. You decide to be forthcoming. “Heard you're kind of a one and done type deal.”

“Because of one person?”

When he says it like that, you realize how unfair the assumption truly is.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Ideally,” Hongjoong starts, so much seriousness to his tone that you find it almost alarming. “I'd like to get to a point in our relationship where I can eat you out for longer than twenty seconds without you coming.”

Caught off guard, you choke on your own spit, playfully swatting at his arm as he rolls away and off of the bed, rummaging through the pile of clothing on the floor.

“I actually do have work I need to get done,” he reaffirms from earlier — the whole entire reason the two of you ended up at his place tonight to begin with.

“So like I said, next time.”

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.

⎯ ୨next୧ ⎯

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