D
Deleted member 2241
I hate myself and want to die.
- Apr 27, 2024
- 253
Niamh had seen all the posts online before, the long songs, the passion. But now she was faced with the man himself, Manletmachine.
Hand trembling, Niamh lifted her hand to knock. Before her knuckles could contact the wood, the door swung open. Manletmachine leaned against the frame with his shoulder.
She lifted her head, already intimidated and she hadn’t even spoken. Right. Speaking. “Manletmachine.”
He stepped aside, waving her inside his goon cave. A tray of tea already sat on his desk, steam wafting from each cup. “Come in.”
He shut the door behind her, the catch of the latch making her pulse stutter and speed. For Manletmachine's sake, he hadn’t locked the damn thing. She was acting angsty and for what reason?
“So.” Manletmachine said propping his hip against the edge of the desk. He crossed his arms and smiled down at her. “What do you think?”
“Okay. Stop.” Niamh rolled her eyes. “I can’t help."
Manletmachine chuckled through tightly pressed lips. “So what did you expect"
Niamh, is now flustered. she doesn't know how much longer she can hold out on Manletmachines rizz. "I jus-"
At that moment, the man himself, Nosecel_ walks in, sitting down next to Manletmachine, tense expecting the worst to happen between Manletmachine and Niamh. “Do you want to talk about it?” Nosecel_ asks, and then looks annoyed when Niamh rolls her eyes. “Fine, just continue with your little temper tantrum then.”
“Give it a rest, Nosecel_. She's just tired.” Manletmachine whispers. “She's had a long day.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Nosecel_ says sharply, and Niamh shushes them both irritably and then Nosecel_ cries out, “Well I suppose you’re the expert then.” and actually storms out of the room.
“He’s just worried about you,” Niamh says, “after all those reps he's given you” . At this point Manletmachine realizes that Nosecel_ had been watching this whole time, whole heartedly waiting for something and he definitely didn't want to talk about it, but the pieces where coming together.
“I’ve only known you both for these few minutes,” Niamh says, suddenly frustrated. “This was just supposed to just be a confrontation, but now I crave.”
“This—” Manletmachine waves his hand vaguely in the direction of the bed “—this was never going to be easy. Especially with my brocels involved. But you can’t expect me to tell you that I don’t care about him. You don’t always get to be the focus of this, you know.”
“I’m the one you're in love with,” Niamh says meanly, and Manletmachine laughs, a short humorless one, and sits up.
“You’re the one we’re both in love with,” he says. “But you’re still being a dick.”
Manletmachine leaves the door open, and Nosecel_ keeps his eyes closed and breathes in the putrid air from the cave combined with the smell of whatever perfume Niamh is wearing, and he thinks about how he wants to taste it.
Finally he walks back.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Niamh's not looking at Nosecel_, but she is touching him. Manletmachine is lying on the bed, and he feels vulnerable and on display with Niamh kneeling between his legs and Nosecel_ staring at him. Manletmachine presses himself tighter against Niamh's back, and Nosecel_ wriggles restlessly into Niamh's grasp. He’s breathless, and jittery with a sort of spiteful need for all the attention. Every time he moves, her hand tightens absent-mindedly, and it’s almost, but not quite, enough. Nosecel_ whimpers, his whole body hot with impatience and a frustrated sort of desire that comes entirely from watching.
“Come on,” Nosecel_ says, and Niamh leans over him and presses a finger to his mouth, and Nosecel_ isn’t sure if it’s chastisement or a caress, and he’s not sure he cares.
“I want to get it right, Nosecel_” Niamh says, Manletmachine, laughs at the wild look on Nosecel's when he starts talking again, his voice is louder, so Nosecel_ can hear. He sounds cool and amused.
“He likes it,” Manletmachine tells Niamh, and Manletmachine looks down his own body, a furrow of concentration between his brows as he moves forward, strokes the back of Nosecel's knee nervously. He’s blushing. It’s nice to know he can still get like that.
“He likes how you are” Manletmachine says, and Nosecel's nods, and Niamh finally looks up at him and smiles, the huge beautiful grin that shows she’s really pleased about something, and Manletmachine slides a hand around him, presses against his stomach, murmurs, “I like how big you are too,” and then he drops his hand to guide Niamh.
“Go on,” Manletmachine says, “I told you, he likes it,” and Niamh pushes forward, hips pressing Nosecel_ down into the bed, and she mutters, “Yeah, I got that, thanks” but then she's grinding against Nosecel_ slowly and they all go quiet, like the air has been sucked out of the room leaving nothing but this feeling of the too much- and just right-ness of the three of them together this time.
And it doesn’t always work for Nosecel_, when they’re all together like this, but now they’re both watching him and he likes it so much, and then Manletmachine drops a kiss on the back of Niamh's neck and shifts around him to lie down next to Nosecel, and that’s even better, because then he feels compressed between them, all his uncertainties wiped clean by their twin forcefulness's.
“Now he’s happy,” Manletmachine says to Niamh, and Nosecel_ doesn’t even protest, because he is. Niamh moves faster, the force of her breaths heaving through Nosecel_ to where he’s anchored by ManletMachine's arm across his body, as he teeters on the brink of mindlessness, held there on the edge by the distracting purposeful touch of ManletMachine's hand against his chest, scooping the curve of his ribcage, centring him.
“This is good,” Nosecel_ says, first to Manletmachine, then louder so Niamh can hear, “This is so good.” And Manletmachine strokes at his hair, gathering the curls into his fist, tugging Nosecel_ into a kiss, and Nosecel_ thinks of Manletmachine's touch to Niamh's head, the complicated, hopeful, public tenderness of it. Then Manletmachine kisses Nosecel's ankle where it rests on Niamh's shoulder, and Manletmachine is still kissing Nosecel's mouth, just a lazy dip and touch of tongue, and Niamh comes between them both, shivering.
Much later, Nosecel_ curls away from the middle of the bed towards Manletmachine. Niamh is taking up half the mattress, and he’s slack with sleep, not quite snoring, but Manletmachine still doesn’t sleep well and Nosecel_ knows he’s half awake, alert for Nosecel's breathing. Their legs tangle, and Manletmachine hauls him in close so that they can whisper into each other’s skin.
“Sometimes,” Manletmachine tells him, “I miss it being just us. Or maybe...” He doesn't finish, because he doesn't want to make Nosecel_ sad, but then again, Nosecel_ knows that Niamh was something for Mancletmachine long before Draco was.
Maybe it isn’t fair to say it, with Niamh beside them, because Nosecel_ knows that Manletmachine would never have touched Niamh in the first place if he hadn’t wanted to make him happy.
Hand trembling, Niamh lifted her hand to knock. Before her knuckles could contact the wood, the door swung open. Manletmachine leaned against the frame with his shoulder.
She lifted her head, already intimidated and she hadn’t even spoken. Right. Speaking. “Manletmachine.”
He stepped aside, waving her inside his goon cave. A tray of tea already sat on his desk, steam wafting from each cup. “Come in.”
He shut the door behind her, the catch of the latch making her pulse stutter and speed. For Manletmachine's sake, he hadn’t locked the damn thing. She was acting angsty and for what reason?
“So.” Manletmachine said propping his hip against the edge of the desk. He crossed his arms and smiled down at her. “What do you think?”
“Okay. Stop.” Niamh rolled her eyes. “I can’t help."
Manletmachine chuckled through tightly pressed lips. “So what did you expect"
Niamh, is now flustered. she doesn't know how much longer she can hold out on Manletmachines rizz. "I jus-"
At that moment, the man himself, Nosecel_ walks in, sitting down next to Manletmachine, tense expecting the worst to happen between Manletmachine and Niamh. “Do you want to talk about it?” Nosecel_ asks, and then looks annoyed when Niamh rolls her eyes. “Fine, just continue with your little temper tantrum then.”
“Give it a rest, Nosecel_. She's just tired.” Manletmachine whispers. “She's had a long day.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Nosecel_ says sharply, and Niamh shushes them both irritably and then Nosecel_ cries out, “Well I suppose you’re the expert then.” and actually storms out of the room.
“He’s just worried about you,” Niamh says, “after all those reps he's given you” . At this point Manletmachine realizes that Nosecel_ had been watching this whole time, whole heartedly waiting for something and he definitely didn't want to talk about it, but the pieces where coming together.
“I’ve only known you both for these few minutes,” Niamh says, suddenly frustrated. “This was just supposed to just be a confrontation, but now I crave.”
“This—” Manletmachine waves his hand vaguely in the direction of the bed “—this was never going to be easy. Especially with my brocels involved. But you can’t expect me to tell you that I don’t care about him. You don’t always get to be the focus of this, you know.”
“I’m the one you're in love with,” Niamh says meanly, and Manletmachine laughs, a short humorless one, and sits up.
“You’re the one we’re both in love with,” he says. “But you’re still being a dick.”
Manletmachine leaves the door open, and Nosecel_ keeps his eyes closed and breathes in the putrid air from the cave combined with the smell of whatever perfume Niamh is wearing, and he thinks about how he wants to taste it.
Finally he walks back.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Niamh's not looking at Nosecel_, but she is touching him. Manletmachine is lying on the bed, and he feels vulnerable and on display with Niamh kneeling between his legs and Nosecel_ staring at him. Manletmachine presses himself tighter against Niamh's back, and Nosecel_ wriggles restlessly into Niamh's grasp. He’s breathless, and jittery with a sort of spiteful need for all the attention. Every time he moves, her hand tightens absent-mindedly, and it’s almost, but not quite, enough. Nosecel_ whimpers, his whole body hot with impatience and a frustrated sort of desire that comes entirely from watching.
“Come on,” Nosecel_ says, and Niamh leans over him and presses a finger to his mouth, and Nosecel_ isn’t sure if it’s chastisement or a caress, and he’s not sure he cares.
“I want to get it right, Nosecel_” Niamh says, Manletmachine, laughs at the wild look on Nosecel's when he starts talking again, his voice is louder, so Nosecel_ can hear. He sounds cool and amused.
“He likes it,” Manletmachine tells Niamh, and Manletmachine looks down his own body, a furrow of concentration between his brows as he moves forward, strokes the back of Nosecel's knee nervously. He’s blushing. It’s nice to know he can still get like that.
“He likes how you are” Manletmachine says, and Nosecel's nods, and Niamh finally looks up at him and smiles, the huge beautiful grin that shows she’s really pleased about something, and Manletmachine slides a hand around him, presses against his stomach, murmurs, “I like how big you are too,” and then he drops his hand to guide Niamh.
“Go on,” Manletmachine says, “I told you, he likes it,” and Niamh pushes forward, hips pressing Nosecel_ down into the bed, and she mutters, “Yeah, I got that, thanks” but then she's grinding against Nosecel_ slowly and they all go quiet, like the air has been sucked out of the room leaving nothing but this feeling of the too much- and just right-ness of the three of them together this time.
And it doesn’t always work for Nosecel_, when they’re all together like this, but now they’re both watching him and he likes it so much, and then Manletmachine drops a kiss on the back of Niamh's neck and shifts around him to lie down next to Nosecel, and that’s even better, because then he feels compressed between them, all his uncertainties wiped clean by their twin forcefulness's.
“Now he’s happy,” Manletmachine says to Niamh, and Nosecel_ doesn’t even protest, because he is. Niamh moves faster, the force of her breaths heaving through Nosecel_ to where he’s anchored by ManletMachine's arm across his body, as he teeters on the brink of mindlessness, held there on the edge by the distracting purposeful touch of ManletMachine's hand against his chest, scooping the curve of his ribcage, centring him.
“This is good,” Nosecel_ says, first to Manletmachine, then louder so Niamh can hear, “This is so good.” And Manletmachine strokes at his hair, gathering the curls into his fist, tugging Nosecel_ into a kiss, and Nosecel_ thinks of Manletmachine's touch to Niamh's head, the complicated, hopeful, public tenderness of it. Then Manletmachine kisses Nosecel's ankle where it rests on Niamh's shoulder, and Manletmachine is still kissing Nosecel's mouth, just a lazy dip and touch of tongue, and Niamh comes between them both, shivering.
Much later, Nosecel_ curls away from the middle of the bed towards Manletmachine. Niamh is taking up half the mattress, and he’s slack with sleep, not quite snoring, but Manletmachine still doesn’t sleep well and Nosecel_ knows he’s half awake, alert for Nosecel's breathing. Their legs tangle, and Manletmachine hauls him in close so that they can whisper into each other’s skin.
“Sometimes,” Manletmachine tells him, “I miss it being just us. Or maybe...” He doesn't finish, because he doesn't want to make Nosecel_ sad, but then again, Nosecel_ knows that Niamh was something for Mancletmachine long before Draco was.
Maybe it isn’t fair to say it, with Niamh beside them, because Nosecel_ knows that Manletmachine would never have touched Niamh in the first place if he hadn’t wanted to make him happy.
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