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cactus-cuddler · 5 months ago

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𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒚 ✭ 𝑨𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub! virgin female reader

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Plot: There is no specific plot. Bucky and the reader like tease and are both dangerously attracted to each other

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: explicit sex, use of nicknames as "good girl", "slut" and "whore". Daddy kink and dirty talk. I don't think there are any other warnings.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 4.5k (sorry)

-------- ≪ °✾° ≫ Author's note: sorry for any mistakes that may be there, English is not my first language! And sorry if the scenes may be badly written, it's been a long time since I wrote a smut between a woman and a man.

I write this ff because today I turn 18 (Happy Birthday to me!!) and I want so sign it. From today I can interact with all the "minor DNI" posts!!

I don't care if you are minors, read it if you want <3 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

James Buchanan Barnes. The very mention of this name can make your heart race, recalling his powerful presence, his toned physique, and the intense gaze he fixes on you whenever your paths cross. Your thoughts often wander to him, an obsession that fills your mind in the quietest hours of the night.

Yet, despite the thoughts that consume you, you're still a virgin. You’ve never found someone you were willing to give your heart to, let alone something more intimate. You've had relationships, but each time, you’ve held back, refusing to let things go beyond harmless flirtation. The thought of being vulnerable like that has always kept you at a distance. But with him, it’s different. There’s something about Bucky that makes you reconsider everything.

Your relationship with Bucky is hard to define. Sometimes you get along well, but other times, you find yourself wishing he would just disappear. And then there are moments when you wish he’d stop arguing with you altogether, using his frustration in ways that words can’t express. Is that too much to ask?

You’re curled up on your couch with a cup of hot chocolate in hand and a blanket to ward off the winter chill. As you flip through the channels, trying to find something to watch, your phone buzzes with incoming messages. Seeing his name on the screen sends a pang through your chest.

Teasing him has always been your favorite game. You start a random movie, not really caring about the plot, as you wait for him to arrive. The distant sound of a motorcycle engine signals that you're in trouble now.

When the doorbell rings, you open it, quickly masking your excitement. He’s standing there in his pajamas, and you can’t help but giggle. His pants have a childish space motif, and the matching sweatshirt does nothing to diminish his appeal. You’re wrapped in a blanket, so you're not much better off in his eyes.

"Popcorn?" he asks, and you invite him in. As he sees the movie already playing, he reminds you of his earlier request. You shrug and sit on the couch, munching on the popcorn he brought.

“You’re a bad girl,” he says, taking the remote to choose something else to watch.

“Just the way you like them,” you reply with a smirk.

You and Bucky work together in the same company, nothing out of the ordinary. You handle the computers and accounting, while Bucky works with metal. His vibranium arm would be perfect for his job, but he rarely uses it. "Oops, I’m right-handed, I do it without thinking," he says when someone asks why he doesn’t use his more powerful arm. You’ve seen how he looks at women, and it stirs something within you—a mix of jealousy and curiosity.

You first started talking after you accidentally spilled coffee on his white shirt a few months ago. To make amends, you offered to clean it, using a trick you’d read in a 1950s magazine titled "How to Be the Perfect Housewife." Not that you’re aiming for that role; you detest the idea of being confined by outdated gender roles. Patriarchy is disgusting! You would never want to marry a man in your life who confines you to a house with four children, a dog, three cats and a cactus to take care of alone.

Your conversations started off innocent enough, but things took a turn when you began texting late into the night. You both started teasing each other, pushing boundaries just to see how far the other would go. It became a game, one where neither of you wanted to lose face, even as feelings began to creep in.

So, how did he end up at your place tonight? You’re not sure, and it worries you. He’s never been to your house before. Sure, he’s given you rides home after work, a habit that started after the coffee incident. It became a routine, all because you playfully challenged his chivalry. “You? A gentleman? Don’t make me laugh,” you had texted him one morning. That very day, he was waiting outside your building, opening the car door for you. "It doesn’t mean anything," you had said to him in thanks. But tonight feels different.

The movie he picks is just awful. It’s filled with scenes of sex without sense.

“Is this too much for you? Should I change it?” he asks each time, and you just shake your head. In your life you see, read and write stuff more scandalous.

“How boring, if done like this even sex becomes boring," Bucky complains about another sex scene with the missionary position.

“You talk big, but I bet you couldn’t do any better,” you say, challenging him, not realizing what you’ve just started.

“With just one touch, I could make you scream my name,” he says, his voice low and intense. You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks, but you’re not backing down.

“I’d like to see you try,” you whisper, the challenge clear in your voice.

He looks at you, his gaze lingering, but then he sighs and turns back to the movie. “I’m a gentleman,” he says softly. “I wouldn’t take advantage of you like that.”

You feel a wave of frustration, mixed with a sense of longing that you can’t quite shake. You don’t want him to be a gentleman; you want him to see you as more. You’re a ruthless woman, you won’t give up easily. If you are not satisfied with him, well you will do it yourself. In front of his eyes.

You take off your blanket and lift your shirt up to your hips and pull your panties off throwing them on the floor. You lie down on your back and put your feet on his knees. You put two fingers in your mouth and suck them in front of him. ‘He provoked me’. You repeat yourself so you don’t feel guilty about what you’re about to do.

You do small circular movements on your clit and slowly start to sigh for the pleasure you are causing yourself.

“Bucky..." you say between moaning as you start to penetrate your little cunt with two fingers. Bucky is doing everything he can to hold himself back. His erection thills in his boxer asking to be released and enjoy for you and your warmth however he does not want to give up. It will not look but has solid moral principles and not taking your virginity is one of those.

“Bucky… please fuck me with your cock,” you say clenching your couch with fingers to hold back your spasms. This provocation has hit the mark, his erection is now painful and not releasing it could drive him crazy. Reach out to your face, sweat drops are playing on your forehead. He orders you to sit down and you perform. You are sitting one next to the other and you have your leg over his to allow him free access to your pussy.

"I won’t take your virginity," he announces by passing his thumb along your big lips. An unsatisfied grunt comes out of your lips, you want more. Much more than that.

“Why not?" you complain "I want you Bucky, I want to shout your name" add grumbling.

"It would be a nice show, believe me sweetheart but I can’t deprive you of your first time with someone you love," he says. In a flash all the previous excitement fades away as if in a spell. You close your legs and ask him to leave. "You can’t decide what’s right or wrong for me" you told him by pulling out your voice. He’s made his choice, and for tonight, that will have to be enough.

As he leaves, you find yourself wondering what it would take to bridge the gap between you. Because despite everything, one thing is clear: you want more from him, and you’re not sure how much longer you can wait.

The next morning, you wake up hoping that the night with Bucky was just a bad dream—a nightmare you could shake off with a shiver. But as you lie there, staring at the ceiling, you realize that it was all too real. The memory comes rushing back: you, vulnerable and exposed, touching yourself in front of him, moaning his name, only to be met with rejection. Your cheeks flush with a mix of shame and frustration. How could I have let myself go like that?

But there’s another thought that creeps in, unbidden. Despite everything, a part of you finds it almost sweet that Bucky doesn’t want to take your virginity unless it’s something more than just lust. He wants you to save it for someone you truly love. But the truth is, you do want it. You want him. The image of his lips on yours, his hands exploring every inch of your body, flashes through your mind, and you feel a pang of desire so intense it nearly takes your breath away. You’ve fantasized about him for so long—wondered if he could fulfill the dark, desperate needs you’ve kept buried. You’re sure you wouldn’t regret giving him your first time, so why should he?

‘Maybe he doesn’t want me,’ you think suddenly, the possibility of hitting you like a bucket of cold water. ‘Maybe I’m just a game to him, someone he can tease and torment without ever really wanting.’ The thought is unbearable, twisting in your gut like a knife.

You force yourself out of bed, deciding that you won’t let these thoughts ruin your day. Before work, you brew a hot cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine will give you the energy you need to push through. You can’t face Bucky today—not after last night. Instead, you opt for your favorite mode of transport, the one so many dismiss as the “poor man’s commute.” But you’ve always found the train comforting, a place where you can disappear into your thoughts without the pressure of small talk or the need to keep up appearances.

The ride is uneventful, the rhythmic clatter of the train soothing your nerves somewhat. When you arrive at your stop, your office is just a short walk away. You’re early—too early, really—so you take your time, letting your mind wander as you stroll. The morning air is crisp, and the world feels strangely peaceful. ‘Why can’t my mind be this calm?’ you wonder, but of course, it’s not that simple. Last night’s events linger, casting a shadow over everything.

Just as you’re about to step inside, your phone rings, the sound jolting you out of your thoughts. His name flashes on the screen, and your heart skips a beat. What does he want now?

"Y/N, come down now or we'll be late!" Bucky's voice snaps through the line, sharp with irritation. You can almost see the frown on his face, the way his brows would knit together. But with a calmness that surprises even you, you tell him you're already at the office, having taken the train.

"I hope you're joking," he growls, his voice low and husky, sending a familiar shiver down your spine. Even when he's angry, it's a voice that could melt you.

"Sorry, I should have warned you," you reply, hanging up before he can say more. The truth is, you didn't want to face him this morning, not after last night. The thought of seeing his cold blue eyes, remembering how they watched you with a mix of desire and restraint, makes your chest tighten.

You greet your colleagues warmly, slipping on your glasses as you sit at your desk, but your mind is elsewhere. The memory of Bucky's gaze, the way his hand almost trembled before he pulled away from you, keeps playing on a loop.

Hours pass in a blur of work until lunchtime, when Bucky suddenly appears at your usual spot in the break room. The moment you see him, your heart skips a beat. His presence fills the space, commanding and intense. You watch as he approaches, your colleagues' chatter fading into the background.

"I need to talk to you, Y/N," he says, his voice a mix of urgency and something deeper-something almost vulnerable. His eyes, however, are still guarded, a wall you've never been able to fully break through.

Your colleagues exchange knowing glances, smirking, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Without a word, you follow Bucky out of the room, conscious of the curious eyes behind you.

He leads you to the women's bathroom, and as soon as the door closes, he turns to you, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry," he begins, but the words seem empty, as if even he doesn't believe them.

"For what?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart is pounding now, and you don't know if it's from anger, confusion, or the mere proximity to him.

"For last night. I have no right to tell you who should take your virginity," he says, but you quickly cover his mouth with your hand, the heat of embarrassment rushing to your face.

"Don't say that out loud!" you hiss, glancing around as if someone might be listening. The idea that anyone might hear about your inexperience makes you cringe.

His lips curl into a smirk beneath your hand, and he gently removes it, his fingers brushing your skin in a way that sends a jolt of electricity through you. "Do you still want it?" he whispers, leaning in close enough that you can feel his breath on your neck. His voice is dark, teasing, but there's something else there too-a hint of uncertainty, as if he's afraid of your answer.

Your breath catches as he presses his knee between your legs, his hands firm on your hips. God, why does he have to be so confusing? You need him, but his mixed signals are driving you insane.

"You have to understand, I don't want you to regret anything you do with me," he murmurs against your lips, finally adjusting his knee just where you need it. Your body responds instantly, a wave of heat pooling between your legs.

His words are laced with concern, but also with a promise of something darker. "Even though it may not seem like it, I really care about you," he continues, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek, a gesture so tender it makes your chest ache. You feel small under his gaze, like a puzzle he's trying to figure out. And yet, in this position, you're certain you could unravel completely in his hands.

"The day I fuck you, I want to hear words like 'I love you, Daddy' coming out of your mouth. I don't want it to be a simple one-night stand, okay?" he finishes, pulling back just as quickly as he came, leaving you breathless and reeling.

As the door closes behind him, you're left with the echo of his words, your thoughts spiraling. 'How can he have this much control over me?' you wonder, struggling to steady your breath. Your heart is racing, your body still humming with the desire he left behind. Until yesterday, you were convinced your relationship with Bucky was built on mutual dislike and a twisted game of dominance. But now, you're not so sure. There's something deeper-a need, an almost primal urge to possess and be possessed.

The day you finally give in to him won't be gentle. You can feel it in the way your bodies clash, in the intensity of his gaze. It will be raw, fierce, and everything you've secretly craved. And when it happens, you'll be ready to let him see every part of you-the parts you've never shown anyone else, not even yourself.

After work Bucky takes you home, you decide to let go of what happened because now you know that he wants you as much as you do. He wants to be there for you and give you everything you can give.

"I've been thinking about what you said all day," you admit, adjusting Bucky's seatbelt. It feels tighter than it should and you think it's the reason you're short of breath when in reality it's the man in the driver's seat who's gripping the wheel in a way that's too erotic for your tastes.

"What conclusion have you come to?" he asks without taking his eyes off the road. The way his jaw clenched when he spoke and the hint of a neat beard on his cheeks spark some very perverse thoughts in you.

"I want you Bucky, so much. It wouldn't be a one night stand, I know I'd be addicted to your body pressing against mine," you admit bravely and a smile lights up his face.

“Show me how much you want me,” he taunts you.

You decide to please him without using your sharp tongue and you reach out to the crotch of his pants to feel what you have dreamed of so much. Under your fingers you feel him slowly swelling and as you feel it you bite your lip to hold back the excitement that is growing inside you.

You unzip his pants while he is still driving, you notice that he has slowed down and on his face you notice the desire he has for you. As soon as you free his cock you notice that your fantasies did not do him justice. It is definitely bigger and thicker than the one you imagined you rode every night. You wet your hand with saliva - as you have seen done in many pornos - and you start to touch it enjoying the heat on your hand.

You make small movements with the palm of your hand and the idea that someone could see you does nothing but excite you more. You are not an expert, you do not know what he might like more but despite this the movements of your hand are decisive.

"I knew you were a good girl," Bucky says from behind the wheel. Seeing how he's reacting to your touch excites you even more. His breathing is no longer regular, you see his expression satisfied by your touch and when you notice that there are only a few meters left to your house you almost feel sorry.

You start to pump faster, you have decided to challenge yourself and you want to make him come before you get to your house. As your hand increases the speed his sighs become faster and faster and when you see from his look that he is close to that point you take off your belt and lower yourself towards his big cock and take his tip between your lips until your mouth is filled.

"Such a good girl," he says to you while parking the car and you look into his eyes smiling, swallowing all his seed and licking your lips to show him that you liked it.

He fixes his cock in his jeans and then follows you into your home. He intends to return the favor you have done him and will really make you scream as he always threatened while he was teasing you. Once the door is closed behind you, you begin to kiss with desire. Your tongues touch and search for each other and feeling your taste mixed with his cum gives him another throbbing erection despite the orgasm of a few minutes ago.

“I knew there was a whore inside you looking for my cock," he tells you in a hoarse voice. Your body is on fire, you need him to give you more. He makes you lie down on the same couch where he rejected you less than twenty-four hours ago and begins to undress you hastily without paying attention to your clothes. He scatters everything around the room and when you are finally naked in front of his gaze he admires you in amazement.

You are perfect. Your body is perfect in his eyes. Every little imperfection that you see in it are things that he loves. You are a Greek goddess in his eyes and every part of you belongs to him and you both know it. From the day you stained his white shirt with coffee you already knew it would end like this.

He starts taking your breasts with his big hands, only his mind knows how many times he has wanted to touch them, bite them and suck them and now everything is possible. With his metallic hand he holds one of your nipples tightly, the cold touch of his hand makes you arch your back with pleasure and in the meantime he sucks and bites the other nipple making you want even more. Your gasps are music to his ears, your body is like an instrument in his hands and with every touch he is able to let out those little sounds he loves.

“Bucky, please I want more,” you beg with the help of your needy gaze.

"What a needy whore, isn't you?" he sneers and you nod to agree with him. You want to be his whore for tonight and for all the nights to come. He leaves a trail of kisses all over your body and then lingers on your pussy. The place where you need him to focus.

With his thumb he begins to touch your clit and in the meantime his gaze is fixed on your face dominated by pleasure from that insignificant touch. While with his thumb he continues his work with his middle finger he begins to penetrate your cunt going deep to feel how wet you are just for him.

"What a wet pussy we have," he compliments and then licks your juices from his fingers and satisfied he licks his lips.

He makes you sit with your back to the backrest and positions himself between your legs, placing your legs on his shoulders. As he enters you with two fingers, he begins to lick your clit while your hands are firmly on his head. You push him closer to you while desperate cries escape from your lips. Before that, you had never felt anything more pleasurable. His tongue moves expertly on your tight pussy sucking the right spots and alternating with licking.

“Bucky… I’m about to come,” you tell him between sighs of pleasure.

"Good girls only come when they are told, you are a good girl aren't you?" he tells you after taking his tongue off the place he was devouring with pleasure. He puts his fingers in your mouth and you impulsively suck his fingers taking all your flavor away from him. Your pussy is sweet and the taste and smell make Bucky ecstatic. He starts to undress too, letting his erection come out, now it seems even bigger than before and you don't know if you'll be able to take it all. But you know you'll make it, you want to show Bucky that you're a good girl. Good girls can take all the cock.

Before filling your pussy Bucky positions himself between your breasts and you squeeze them around his hard and veiny member. He starts moving with restrained rhythms while you stick out your tongue to lick the tip when you have the chance.

"You have no idea how much I've dreamed of being between these tits," he tells you between thrusts. Your hot tits around his throbbing cock are an incredible sight. Then Bucky takes a condom from his jeans pocket and orders you to put it on him.

You tear it off with your fingers and place it on the tip of Bucky's cock and then with your lips you cover that member with the condom.

“You're my good girl," he says, caressing your cheek. Then with a brusque gesture he turns you around and you find yourself doggy style on the couch with your legs wide open. He spits on his fingers and lubricates your pussy and then he enters you. Slowly and trying to get you used to it, it's still your first time.

His thrusts are slow but firm. It's not enough for you, you want more.

"Bucky..." you say between sighs.

"I know, baby... let your pussy get at ease to my big cock," he replies, putting his hand around your neck and then touching your breasts with the nipples still hard and stained by him. As soon as he notices that you no longer feel any pain, he increases his speed. He fills you up completely, making you scream with pleasure, he doesn't give you time to make you understand that he's sending your mind into a spin.

"Bucky... I'm going to..." you can't finish your sentence because he slaps you on the right butt. The slap sends you into paradise.

"You can only come when daddy tells you to," he replies, slapping you again, this time on your left ass cheek making you scream in pleasure.

After many deep and fast thrusts you feel the orgasm inside you, holding it back is fucking hard but you don't want to disobey Bucky, or rather, your daddy. He has taken away all your sharp responses with his cock turning you into a perfect whore for him. Like you always dreamed.

"Come for daddy, doll," he orders you, he's almost ready to come too but he wants to do it to you. On top of your body. You don't have to be told twice and you come on his big cock and as soon as he comes out of you he takes off the condom and orders you to get on your knees in front of him.

He starts touching himself in front of you and explodes in an orgasm on your beautiful face throwing away every single ounce of purity you had left. You lick your lips hoping to be able to take some of his cum and be able to taste it again like in the car. He grabs your neck and kisses you with fury. Your mouths both taste like the sex you shared and you can't be happier.

“You did really well,” he tells you and you bite your lip at the compliment. “I'm proud of you," he adds, giving you another long, longing kiss.

You go to take a shower to wash your sweaty bodies but "by mistake" Bucky's cock enters your pussy again and fucks you in your shower again giving you the second orgasm of the day and again by mistake his cock ends up in your mouth and Bucky teaches you how to give a blowjob that satisfies him. As soon as you finish the shower you slip into your bed, he wants to be with you after what you have shared and once in bed you fall asleep hugging each other.

The next morning, thankfully a Sunday, you devour everything you have to eat. You were so into sex that you didn't have dinner last night and your arguments resume but end with you rolling around in bed.

This new perspective excites you more than it should, every argument now corresponds to a perfect fuck and now to shut you up Bucky will put his cock in your mouth. "What a beautiful whore you are when you suck it," and these dirty words help you get an orgasm. Bucky says good girls like to be called whores and you are one.

"You're all mine," he tells you while you're sitting at the kitchen table where you've just finished eating, he said he wanted dessert so you you decide to propose yourself as a meal. You took off your panties and without being asked he was between your legs sucking and licking his sweet dessert.

"I love you daddy," you say closer to your orgasm, those are Bucky's favorite words. They make him understand that everything about you is his, your heart, your perfect cunt, your mouth and the rest of your body.

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nesmamomen · 2 months ago

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She urgently needs diapers that cost about $3 each.

Donate just $5 to each one of them

A father of a child @momensblong contacted me and told me that he lost everything and has no money left and will have to sell his phone to buy diapers and milk for his child. Ok I can't take it anymore. Please help them and write your names when donating to their campaigns. I will give you a gift of a tattoo or a picture taken by me.

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thirstydemisexual · 1 year ago

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LINGERIE||Simon"Ghost"Riley X Plus size!reader

Plot: A package that you definitely did not order gets delivered to your house

(inspired by the amazing fic "Friction" by @daisies-daydreams , I just had to write my take on Ghost buying his plus size girl some lingerie because DAM if it isn't stuck in my head)

Rating: (18+)

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: smut!, smut with little plot, body worship, mirror sex, Simon fucking your insecurities away, a lot of self projecting, a lot of pet names, p in v you know the drill, unprotected sex, creampie, oral(f!recieving)

This is the first smut I write and English isn't my first language so please be kind :)

No beta we die like the respect I hold for myself

It was a quiet morning, you had been lounging on the couch reading a book a friend recommended to you months ago and you just got around to actually give it a go, when the sound of the doorbell startled you. You quickly got up from the couch putting your slippers on and went to open the front door, retrieving a package from the hands of the delivery man.

You were slightly confused, the package was clearly addressed to your name but you couldn't remember ordering anything. Curious you settled the package on the kitchen counter and made quick work of the tape with some scissors.

Inside of the cardboard box was another smaller box, decorated with a pretty flower motif and the name of a brand that was not familiar to you. Opening it and unraveling the various level of tissue paper you found your face heating up once realising the content of it.

It was a lingerie set, and a pretty expensive looking one at the sight of it.

It was a blush pink lace babydoll with matching lace panties and matching fishnet stockings with lace trims.

You quickly dropped the fabric trying to regain some composure and made a beeline for the door leading to the garage where your boyfriend was busying himself working on his bike.

Simon didn't hear you coming in, too busy on his work and distracted by the music blasting from his phone or at least you thought so.

You see Simon knew exactly what package was going to be delivered that day and since the doorbell rang he was expecting for you to get to him.

"Si" you called out from the doorway, face flushed and voice uncertain.

He turned around, teasing smirk on his face, dark eyes meeting your gaze.

"Hey love, something's wrong?" he asked turning the music off and going to the sink and heading to the utility sink to clean his hands from the motor oil that was adorning the hands that you loved so much.

"Did you ehm-" you faltered " would you happen to know who exactly ordered a lingerie set to my name?" You ended crossing your arms under your breasts, looking at your feet.

His smirk turned into a full on smile while he strode towards you, his tattooed arm reaching out to hold on your plump hip, bringing you closer to him while the other hand reached for your cheek, caressing it tenderly before grabbing your chin and bringing your eyes to meet.

"Oh that?" he said then, head lowering to kiss just below your ear " I thought I would spoil my little princess for once"

No matter how many times he would use terms of endearment your heart would still flatter like it was the first time.

"Don't you think it's a bit too much?"

His gaze from playful quickly turned serious as he rose from the crook of your neck to look back into your eyes.

"What do you mean sweets?" He asked as you tried to look away "look at me"

"I mean" you pause swallowing, eyes quickly becoming lucid "Would something like that even suit me?"

"Again, what do you mean with that?" He asked again, gaze never leaving yours.

It took you a moment to get the words out, with a little tear

"I don't think something like that would suit me. I would look ridiculous with all THIS spilling out" you finally responded, indicating your thick thighs and soft stomach with your hands.

"(Y/N)" Simon's tone was serious as he leaned in to kiss your tear strained cheeks "I wish you could see yourself with my eyes"

His arms suddenly reached down under your ass and you quickly sneaked yours around his neck as you got what he was doing. He quickly picked you up, eliciting a surprised sound to leave your lips.

No matter your weight, in his arms you felt light as a feather as he walked with you in your arms, no signs of struggle. He left the doorway before pushing your back against the wall of the hallway that led to the kitchen. His lips met yours in a slow but fiery kiss. Your hands found themselves in his hair pulling, eliciting a little moan from him. He then pulled just enough to be able to speak, lips still basically on yours

"I'll kiss every insecurity out of your body or die trying"

He then secured his arms around you once again and began walking towards your bedroom and unceremoniously trowing you on your king size bed

"Wait for me" he then dashed out of the room.

You didn't have to wait long for him to come back with the lingerie box in his hands, placing it on the nightstand before climbing on top of you.

He kissed your forehead and started leaving a trail of kisses from reddened cheeks down to your throat.

"You are so perfect darling" his lips settled on your pulse point, eliciting a moan to leave your kiss swollen lips.

His hands roaming the curves of your body before making their way under your shirt stilling for a second, waiting for your permission to go on.

"Please" you let out of your shaky lips.

He didn't waste a second before removing your oversized t-shirt, revealing your bare chest, before pulling back and take in the sight of you.

"Look at you" he cooed, pupils blown wide while he licked his lips as if he was about to devour the most delicious meal.

Having him look at you with so much desire and want had your blood rushing south.

He started trailing kisses from your neck to your chest, your breath quickening.

His mouth immediately attached to one of your nipple, tongue playing with the heartened peak, a hand sneaking to your other breast playing with the left out nub, twisting and pulling in the way he knew was going to make you moan the hardest.

"Such perfect tits" he commented, deciding to abandon the peak to leave hard kisses all around your breasts, that were most definitely going to leave hickeys.

You arched your back, hands reaching out to his shoulders, grabbing and pulling at his black t-shirt.

"Si, 's not fair. I wanna touch you too" you mumbled between moans before his hands left your breast to capture yours in his, pinning them at your sides.

Mouth leaving your chest to look in your eyes once again.

" Nah ah sweetheart, this is about you"

He moved south, letting go of your hands with a look that let you intend that you better keep your hands for yourself. Simon started kissing your abdomen, hands kneeding at the flesh at your sides before settling on the waistband of your shorts.

"Can I?" He asked eyes locking into yours, before tugging your shorts and panties down in one move after you gave an enthusiastic nod.

"Such strong and beautiful legs" he started praising leaving kisses and small bites to your thigh, gaze still fixed into yours.

"You know I can't get enough of you, right? You-" he took a moment to raise from his position to place a sloppy kiss to your mouth"-are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Do you believe me?"

Your insecurities were screaming in the back of your head but you couldn't let them win, not when he looked at you like this, with so much love and desire. You believed him, it was impossible not to.

"I do"

A huge smile made his way to his face, eyes squeezing into small crescents as he got up from the bad. A whine of protest rising from your throat.

He took your hands and led you to your feet, before reaching for the box.

"Will you let me?" He asked, fabric in his hands.

"Yes"

"Hands up darling " you did as he said, fabric gliding over your arms. He caressed you while positioning the babydoll correctly over your figure, kissing you're shoulder right next to the strap before going on his knee. He made you step into the matching lace panties of the set, slowly dragging the piece up your legs before fitting it to your bottom.

He looked up at you while lifting one of your legs up to slip on the matching stockings. It all felt so heartworming, the way he treated your body like a precious thing, how he touched you like he was afraid to break you but his moves still confident like always, he knew what he was doing to you.

Once he had finished dressing you he rose up and you didn't waste a second before throwing yourself at him, passionately kissing him.

He left out a low chuckle before sliding his hands to your hips to softly push you around. You complied but let out another whine at not being able to kiss him how much you wanted.

You now where facing your full length mirror, hammered to the wall of the bedroom.

A rush of blood run to your cheeks, you weren't used to wear this type of things but you had to admit that it didn't look half bad.

"What do you think?" Simon asked, back pressed into yours, moving your hair away from your shoulder to kiss your exposed skin.

"I actually like it" you replied, letting one of your hand run on the fabric while the other reached for Simon's hand on your hip.

"Good" he whispered in your ear before starting to let a trail of kisses down your jawline and to your neck "because I intend to fuck you in it"

You let out a small yelp at the sudden attack on your neck, before Simon took your hands in his and positioned them on either sides of the mirro before taking your hips and moving them backwards so that your body was now in a 90 degree angle.

"Si~" you whined looking at his reflection in the mirror after he left a light spank on your butt "I want you"

He chuckled before stepping back to strip out of his clothes, his hard on slipping free from his boxers already covered in precum.

"Who am I to keep the most beautiful girl in the world waiting?" He knelt once again to the ground "But I need to prep you first"

He didn't bother taking off the panties you just put on and that were already soaked, he just pulled them aside before diving face first into your dripping sex.

As he licked up you slit and one of his hand slipped to your from to start circling your clit, you couldn't help the loud sounds you were making or the shaking of your legs.

His other hand reached your needy hole, spreading your folds with two fingers before letting one of them slip in.

Then one finger became two and then three and you were coming so close to your release.

Until Simon pulled out, sticking the slick fingers into his mouth and releasing a guttural sound at the taste.

"Simon" you nearly screamed " I was so close" a couple tears of frustration leaving your eyes.

"I know baby but I want you to come on my cook alright?"

He wasted no time before pushing is hard member into your pussy, thrusting so hard you almost smashed your face in the mirror with every push.

Upon realising that his tattooed arm sneaked to yourself and made you stand up a bit straighter as his hand gripped on your throat, not enough to stop you completely from breathing but restricting it enough in the way he knew made your head spin like crazy. His other hand steading your hip and keeping it still while he rocked into you.

"Look at yourself" he grunted "look at how beautiful you look while I fuck you"

It didn't take long for you to come after that, moaning his name, head falling back into his shoulder.

"Fuck, I'm close" his thrusts becoming sloppy "where do you want it?"

"Inside" you let out as best as you could with the small amount of air you had access to.

"I need you Simon" another breath "Need you so, so bad"

That was all it took for him to come, his hips stilling, painting your insides with his seed.

You both took a moment to breathe before he picked you up, still balls deeps into you, before dropping you both on the bed. He then pulled out, you hissing at the missing feeling of him inside you before turning around and nestling your head on his chest, sliding your arms around his waist. His hands bring you closer, one softly playing with your hair.

"You did so well for me, my beautiful, beautiful princess"

I hope you all enjoyed this, thank you all for the support and I hope I'll be able to post more after this week

Please feel free to point out any grammar error you find but please be kind, I'll cry

#Spotify #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost x y/n #ghost x female reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #ghost x plus size reader #ghost x chubby reader

927 notes · View notes

koushuwu · 16 days ago

Text

*:･ﾟ✧ LIE TO ME

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬): enemies to lovers, best friends brother, fake relationship, seemingly unrequited feelings, petnames (princess for reader), afab!reader, ovulation, fingering, kissing, implied m!masturbation, dryhumping, emotional smut, no editing we die like neji.

『•• miya atsumu | words: 7,4k | hq masterlist ••』

excerpt: “is it?” you asked, and stepped closer, facing him head on, chin lifted. “convince me then. lie to me. do you love me?”

i can’t sleep.

you sent the message before giving yourself time to consider whether it was a good idea or not. you were friends. sort of. but were you that kind of friends? that kind of couple, you corrected yourself, cringing at the idea of being in any kind of couple with him. for the record, let it be known that this whole relationship wasn’t your idea. honestly there shouldn’t even have been a relationship to begin with, but friends in mutual need helped each other out, right? right. that’s all that this was, really. a mere helping hand. for the both of you. that’s– your phone buzzed in your hand.

Caller ID: Atsumu Miya

“hello?” you said, after staring blankly at the caller id for a moment. why was he calling? and why did he call so fast? why this late? he didn’t offer you any time to mull it over any further, before he stole your breath right out of your lungs.

“want me to come over?” he asked, voice sounding a little rough through the phone.

“why are you even awake?” you countered, head flopping down onto the pillow. come over? you glanced over at the clock on your bedside table. 3am. he wanted to come over. at 3am.

“just answer the question,” he said instead, and for a moment you contemplated whether you should just hang up. if nothing else then simply to shut him up.

“you didn’t answer mine either,” you gumbled, obviously trying to deflect. to no avail, it seemed.

“i asked first.” smug bastard. you could just hang up. but you didn’t. so why didn’t you? because you could. any time you wanted. “i couldn’t sleep either. now d’you want me to come over?” he asked again. you sighed, eyes squinting into the darkness of your apartment, as if he’d be able to see.

“absolutely not.”

“sure.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, feeling your skin heat. he was really something, that atsumu. full of himself, that’s what he was. utterly full of himself.

“just, what kind of boyfriend would i even be, if i wasn’t there for my girl in her time of need?”

“miya,” you warned, but you were too tired for it to really, truly come across. your voice too soft. his girl? his girl?

“relax,” he said, sighing. “there’s no hidden motifs. i mor gonna do anything you don’t want me to. promise,” he added after a little pause. at that moment you felt a dull jab in your abdomen. something you pushed firmly aside, instead opting for another halfhearted attempt at protest.

“atsumu–” you’d meant it to be another warning, but instead it turned into something else entirely. something soft. something you tried to deny, just as hard as you tried to deny the fact, that maybe, just maybe, you actually wanted to accept. that you definitely weren’t ready to admit just yet. and somehow, atsumu saw right through you.

“i’ll be there in 20,” he said, letting his words hang in the air for only a moment and a half before he added “see you in a bit,” and hung up.

dumbfounded, you lowered the phone from your ear. he hung up on you. he literally hung up on you. that little shit. here you were, doing him a favor with this whole relationship thing, and he just hung up on you? okay, so he might be doing you a favor in return but— it wasn’t even like this whole thing was real in the first place. so why was he coming over in the middle of the night? why did it matter? why did he even care if you slept or not? and why did that dull ache in you abdomen refuse to ease? why?

“bet there’s a reason for that, huh?” you’d said to him. it wasn’t often that the two of you hung out alone, but as you both waited on osamu, you might as well do it together. what wasn’t a rarity however, was the way the two of you jabbed at each other. bickering more often than not. you were friends, sure, but he was still an ass.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he’d asked.

“i just mean that there might be a reason why your mom is bugging you about getting a girlfriend,” you said, matter of factly. “i mean you’re fairly good looking, but then you open your mouth and well– you’re not exactly prince charming, are you?”

“you think i’m good looking?”

“see, this is exactly what i mean,” you said, throwing your hands up in mock frustration. “there’s absolutely no way you’d be able to keep a girl satisfied like that.”

“oh really?” he’d stepped closer to you then. into your personal space, eyes locked on yours. “Wanna bet on that?”

“you’re asking– if i wanna bet?” you’d heard your fair share of dumb things coming from his mouth through the years, but this was straight up laughable.

“yeah. wanna bet?” he cocked one of those stupidly nice eyebrows of his as he studied you for your reaction.

“how would you even prove that?” you asked, still standing your ground. refusing to step down. that was, until he opened his mouth again.

“we date,” he said, and you staggered, taking a step back. what? you didn’t think this could turn any stupider but he really did just surpass your expectations for how absurd this could possibly get. “just for a while,” he clarified, looking as satisfied as a fat cat after a feast. “think about it. i could get my mom off my back about dying alone, and you need that shitty ex off your back too, right?”

“how do you even know about–” trailing off, you’d looked at him for a moment, mouth agape as it dawned on you. “osamu.”

“i can neither confirm nor deny that,” he said with a wink that clearly meant that you’d been right. “so. what about it?”

“what about it?” you mocked. “miya, i highly doubt you’d be able to convince anyone that we’re dating. be serious.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he’d almost sounded hurt then. no not hurt, but at least a little surprised. taken aback by your words. but then he smiled. because you hadn’t outright denied his proposal just yet. and you realized that yourself too. you fought him, yes. but you hadn’t exactly said no.

“everyone knows we don’t get along that well,” you told him. and it was true. you did consider him a friend. somewhat. but truly you mostly hang out because of your friendship with osamu. you and him had been best friends since forever, and of course, atsumu had always there too. you’d been closer as kids, but somehow he’d grown incredibly annoying throughout the years.

“opposites attract,” he said, and you scoffed. loudly.

“there’s limits.”

“are you saying you don’t think you can do it?” oh this fucker. of course,he knew exactly how to taunt you into getting his way. which strings to pull and buttons to push to light a fire under your ass. to ignite that competitive side that somehow always yearned to best him.

“oh i can do it,” you told him, arms crossed over your chest as you looked at him defiantly. “can you?”

“i’m an excellent actor,” he said, and the way the words left him so simply. so easily. it annoyed you to no end but you’d already pushed too hard. you couldn’t back down now.

“fine,” you said. “prove it. but you gotta make it convincing enough to fool even me.”

“easy.”

“is it?” you asked, and stepped closer, facing him head on, chin lifted. “convince me then. lie to me. do you love me?”

“i do.”

“bet.”

20 minutes came and went as you paced around your apartment, and like clockwork knuckles rapped against your door. you startled and glanced down the hall. it wasn’t that you’d thought he wouldn’t show. oh no. it was that the ache in your abdomen had only intensified, and by now you’d finally acknowledged it for what it was. and quite frankly, you weren’t sure having atsumu in your home when you were ovulating, in the middle of the night no less, was such a great idea. not that you were keen to delve deeper into that thought, but even you, who found him to be most irritating, had to admit that he was pretty. okay no, pretty didn’t even cut it and you knew that. as much as he was a menace, he was hot. really hot. and while you wouldn’t admit it out loud, often not even to yourself, you’d have to be blind not to be a little bit attracted to him. or well– not be attracted to men. there was another knock, abruptly pulling you from your thoughts. you yanked your hand from your mouth, where you’d been absentmindedly biting your nails. you made for the door, and–

“hey,” he said as soon as you opened the door, and you took him in. why did he have to be so effortlessly pretty? especially at a time like this. with his hair unruly, cheeks flushed from the night cold, and those damned gray sweats he'd undoubtedly tossed on in his rush to get to you. why the hell did he have to be wearing gray sweats? out of everything that he could have worn, why that? and oh dear was he not w– “for a moment there, i thought you weren’t going to open the door. are you gonna let me in, or should i stay out here in the cold?” he asked, and that’s when you realized you’d been staring. at his gray sweatpants. at the shadow of what hid underneath. fuck. yep. you really were ovulating. you shook it off, trying to get a hold of yourself as you stepped aside to let him in. or maybe it was to put some semblance of distance between the two of you.

“sorry.” he eyed you up, as if weighing your apology. or maybe he just took you in, calculating, reading you to find the source of your sleeplessness. as if looking behind your eyes for what you didn’t show. did he see the vicious knots in your stomach? or maybe he just took in your bare legs, trying to hide a smile that fought to pull his lips upward.

“what for?” he asked, now losing the battle as a smile really did stretch across his face. a smile that had you flustered in ways you hadn’t expected when you first texted him earlier. in ways that you didn’t want to be around him. atsumu really did sport a pretty face. he did have a smile that, for some unfathomable reason, made girls swoon. that was even if he never seemed to be able to hold onto them. he also kinda really sucked. which again made you question why you’d even texted him in the first place. since when had you become accustomed enough with him to do so? when had you become comfortable enough with him for that?

“if you keep looking at me like that, i’m going to throw you out on your ass,” you threatened, much to his amusement it seemed as he laughed softly.

“i’d like to see you try,” he challenged with a glimmer in his eyes. but then he held his hands up in surrender. “i’m not here to bicker though. if you want me to leave, i’ll leave. i’m only here because you couldn’t sleep and i want to help.” now it was your turn to study him. he seemed genuine enough, but what was he even planning to do anyway? you couldn’t seem to decipher just that, so you crossed your arms and asked.

“and how’re you going to do that?”

“you tell me,” he said, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “whatever you need, really. i can make you tea. a glass of warm milk? i even learned how to make a really good soup from samu.”

“soup is for when you’re sick,” you deadpanned. “i don’t think eating is going to make me–” you started but he countered before you even finished talking.

“i’ve also been told that i give phenomenal backrubs, actually. lie down. i’ll show you,” he offered, shoes discarded by the door as he stepped further into the apartment, not even sparing a glance over his shoulder as he crossed your floor.

“i–”

“i’m also an excellent cuddler.”

“tsumu.” this time he stopped. whether it was your tone or something else, but he stopped and looked back at you. you were wringing your hands in front of you as you looked at him, and he looked at you.

“what is it?”

“it’s just–” you turn your head, avoiding his gaze, suddenly not wanting to see his expression he didn’t look away though. you can feel his eyes on you. “don’t you think this is taking it a little too far? this whole being in love charade? no one else is here to see.” if you’d looked at him though, maybe you’d have deciphered the look in his face just then.

“who says it’s a charade?” you looked at him then. of anything he could have said, you hadn’t expected that. you had told him to be convincing, hadn’t you? and he did it well. when you watched him then, you almost fell for it. then he looked away, heaved a sigh and dragged a hand through his hair. “come on. let’s watch something until you get sleepy.”

you couldn’t quite figure out at that point, what to think or what to make of this whole ordeal. this was all very strange. new. it hardly seemed like atsumu at all, walking through your apartment and scratching the back of his head as he went. dragging your feet, you reluctantly followed behind. for years you’d found him to be a menace, and he definitely didn’t make a point of proving you wrong. at least it hadn’t seemed like he did until now. why was he suddenly so set on acting all nice and caring? why was he suddenly going out of his way like this? it was honestly kind of creepy. no– not creepy. odd. very odd. was this all because you’d told him to be convincing with this whole masquerade of a relationship? because he didn’t want you to have the last word about his acting skills? as much as you hated to admit it, he’d turned out to be quite the actor. that was a bitter thought, really. more bitter than you’d expected it to be. did you really hate losing to him that much? was that it?

“come on,” atsumu reached out and took hold of your wrist. you looked down at him on your couch, one leg popped up as he pulled, offsetting your balance and leaving you no other options but to fall on top of him or plop down between his legs. you opted for the latter. you didn’t recognize the show that he’d turned on, on the tv.

“what’re we watching?” you asked, skin warm under his hand still clasped around your wrist. you had to resist the urge to pull at it, and wring your hands together. why were you suddenly feeling so nervy? and why were you feeling so warm? you could feel him watching you. scrutinizing you. at least that’s what it felt like, but when you finally faced him, his expression was soft. soft? no. yes. soft. but also– he smiled then. that stupid smile you’d longed to wipe off his face on multiple occasions. your stomach twisted.

“i don’t know. hopefully something boring enough that you’ll fall asleep,” he said. that made you laugh. just a little bit. his smile widened. “now come. properly this time.” you looked at him. and then you looked at him some more. eyes narrowing ever so slightly. come? come where? with a shake of his head he sighed. “you really are a handful, aren’t you? if you sit like that, you’re going to fall on the floor when you fall asleep. now come here. stop looking like that. it doesn’t have to mean anything, just come. rest.”

and that was how you found yourself nestled against his chest on your couch, some shitty movie playing on the tv. at first you’d laid there, tense and rigid against him. as time passed, your body gradually relaxed, your hand settled against his chest as every breath he drew lulled you into a sense of security. you secure, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out how you managed to feel like that, in the arms of none other than miya atsumu. especially not with the persistent ache in your abdomen. the pain had risen and you knew that by now, trying to rise would make you double over before you’d manage to straighten out entirely. so you stayed curled up between atsumus thighs, trying your best to ignore the pain, the sensation of his arms around you, the rise and fall of his chest. just focussing on the movie. just the movie. that’s all you needed to focus on. you pulled up your legs further and tried to do just that. you hadn’t paid attention so far really, but when you did, you saw the male lead of the movie, backing the love interest up against a door, her wrists in his hands. oh. now they were kissing. okay. his thigh moved between her legs. okay. okay, since when did it become this kind of movie? atsumus breath tickled into your hair, and you looked up at him. he didn’t look back. his eyes were trained on the screen, but his hands around your waist twitched against your skin. your skin? you looked down, noticing your shirt had ridden up just a little bit. you adjusted in his embrace, thighs pressed together as heat engulfed you whole. okay. that’s awkward. you looked at the screen again. that’s really awkward. the male leads hands were roaming and you wanted to look away, but you didn’t know where to look–

“are you nervous?” atsumu asked, and when you looked up again, this time he looked back at you. there was a soft smile on his lips and concern in his eyes. “you’re very fidgety.”

“what? no. it’s just—“ you didn’t know why you told him. maybe you were just that tired. maybe it was the concern written across his face. or maybe it was just the way he’d made you feel safe and relaxed while you’d been snuggled against him. well, whatever it was, you swallowed, looked away and confessed “i’m ovulating. it’s driving me insane.”

“you—“ atsumu started. then he stopped. there was a brief silence in which you refused to meet his gaze. embarrassment might just swallow you whole when you heard him swallow thickly. at least you kind of wished it would. but that’s when he surprised you, more than you had thought possible. he placed a hand against your cheek and turned your face, meeting his case in earnest. “maybe i could—” he swallowed again, eyes more intense than you’ve ever seen before. “i could help you with that. if you want.”

“what’re you suggesting?” you asked, surprising yourself just as much by not outright turning him down. this was exactly why you didn’t think it’d be a good idea to have atsumu in your house when you were ovulating. because you might agree to something you normally wouldn’t. because you feared you wouldn’t be able to squash the pull you felt towards him. not that you’d actually admit to feeling it in the first place.

“do you trust me?” he asked, hands around you sitting still. he held you softly, as if he was refusing to let himself do anything before you agreed. as if he was ready to let go at any moment if you refused. arms looped gingerly around you, but not quite holding you. not quite. but you wanted him to. for some reason, you actually really wanted him to. so, what, maybe you just let ignore the consequences for tonight. maybe you just say to hell with it and give in. so what if it was all a lie. at least it was a sweet one of the kind, and at least– at least you got something out of it too.

“i— think so,” you said, surprising even yourself with your words when you really did just let yourself go.

“then let me help,” he said, and lifted one hand to let his fingertips graze lightly over the side of your neck. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.” his fingers traveled down. slow. tentative. almost hesitant. as if he expected you to push him away. and not long ago, you would’ve. not long ago, you wouldn’t have let him get this close to you in the first place. let him put his arms around you. not long ago, you probably wouldn’t even have let him into your apartment, if you were being honest. goose flesh rose across your skin as his fingers neared your abdomen. then stilled. he was offering you the chance to back out. expecting you to. but you didn’t.

“keep going. you said you’d help, didn’t you?” you asked him, encouraging him to go on. to hurry up and give you what your body so clearly craved. “let me stay in the fantasy for a little while,” you added, before you were able to stop yourself. right then, you really did want to believe that this was all real. just for a little while, even if it really didn’t mean anything to him.

“fantasy? what do you mean?” atsumu asked, fingers giving pause once more on their venture beneath the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

“stop talking. just– help me,” you said, hating how pathetic you sounded to yourself. for another moment, he didn’t move. for one retched moment, you feared he was going to pull back and you hated that thought even more. but then he moved. his other hand forced you to look back up at him, the other kept in place.

“you want to pretend. is that it?” he asked. his eyes flared but you saw no anger. no lies. “okay. you can pretend all you want. what do you want me to do? want me to kiss you like i’m madly in love with you?” there was something wicked in his face then. something– lost. no. that couldn’t be it. whatever it was, you didn’t want to see it ever again. what you did want was his lips on yours. his words having sparked something you didn’t expect.

“yes,” you told him. and so he did. he pressed his lips against yours and he kissed you so intently that you almost thought he really was in love with you. his lips ever so tender. soft. lingering between every swipe against yours as you moved him perfect symphony. when he broke the kiss, his eyes stayed close just that one moment longer, like in pure bliss.

“let me help you,” he said, as if you hadn’t already granted him permission. his lips graced yours once more. feather light, there and then gone. with your eyes closed, you felt his breath fanning against your lips still. the mere whisper of distance the only thing separating you.

“how’re we supposed so go back to what we were after this?” you asked against his lips, feeling the pull between you until even that last breath of distance was but a memory. “we were hardly even friends–”

“don’t you dare say that to me,” atsumu drew back. almost startled. when you looked at him, the look in his eyes was hard. somehow also vulnerable. you didn’t quite understand. “not after everything i’ve gone through.” you didn’t quite understand what that was supposed to mean. what he’d been through? the two of you had been through the exact same thing getting here after all. although you had to admit, something inside of you also pained. and it wasn’t just the dull ache of your ovaries or the lower back pain caused by your body ovulating. it wasn’t that, yet you couldn’t quite place it either.

“atsumu,” you said, studying his features. your body wanted nothing more than for you to close the gap once more. for him to bury his fingers inside you as you did. he always did have nice fingers. you shook your head. you should probably withdraw before you pushed past the point of no return. before it would truly be too late for you to go back to what you were. that’s what you should be doing. what you should be wanting. but for some reason, it wasn’t. “there is no way–”

“are you actually serious right now?” the wild look in atsumu’s eyes caught you off guard, when he pushed up to a sitting position, effectively putting more distance between you as you had to sit back in order not the fall. he sighed. rubbed a hand over his face before fixing you with another stare. he took a breath. then another. then he seemed to make up his mind. “i have literally had a crush on you for as long as i can even remember. you cannot seriously be telling me that you didn’t know.”

“me? a crush on me?” your brows furrowed as you stared back at him. now you were just starting to feel pathetic. you couldn’t believe you actually wanted to believe him. that you actually almost did. that you wanted it to be true. “you don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“i am not lying!” he ground the words out, and for one moment you entirely forgot how to breathe. you opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off. before you could. “jesus. okay. you want truth? then listen to me!”

“‘tsumu–”

“no. stop talking,” he said, once more cutting you off. at any other situation, you would have been severely annoyed with him at the amount of times he’d cut you off by now. but this wasn’t any other situation. right now, his hair was a mess, his face looked like it was burning, he cupped your cheeks between his palms, and his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed “the truth is, that i am so damn in love with you that i don’t know what to do with myself. do you really think i’d go around doing something like this for someone i didn’t feel anything for? do i really seem like that kind of asshole to you?” while he spoke, the hardness in his eyes shifted. turned to hurt in the silence that followed. his words were ringing in your ears, your mouth going dry.

“what?”

“nevermind.” atsumu’s hands fell away as he turned his head, suddenly unable to look at you. he cleared his throat and rose from the couch. “i understand if you changed your mind. i can leave–” your hand clasped around his wrist. you didn’t think. didn’t even realize that you’d moved. you only knew that you didn’t want him to leave. especially not like this. he didn’t look at you, but he stopped. you wanted him to look at you. just you.

“show me?” you asked. he moved. as if he was going to turn, but he didn’t. you saw the muscle in his jaw tick.

“excuse me?” his words didn’t sound right. he sounded hurt. really hurt. had you really made him feel this hurt, that he couldn’t even face you? the pain inside you gnawed. shit.

“i– your feelings,” you said. you didn’t know what you could say to make him hurt any less. but whatever you could do, you wanted to do it. maybe this attempt had been the wrong choice. you couldn’t tell what we going on in his head, but you wanted to make that pain vanish from his voice. you wanted him to sound like your atsumu again. “i’m sorry, i– atsumu, look at me.”

“what about my feelings? doesn’t matter it’s all a lie, does it?”

“atsumu, please.” he sighed, silent for a moment. then he obliged. tears rimmed his eyes when he met yours and there was a furrow between his brows.

“what?”

“i– don’t think you’re lying,” you said, surprised to find that you meant it. he looked at you, dazed as he held back those unshed tears.

“i’m not,” he said. his voice was still thick. it was still not quite his. but when his jaw worked and he cleared his throat once more, you knew. you knew that he meant it and you knew. knew why you’d wanted it to be true. why you wanted him to stop hurting. why you didn’t actually want to go back to what you were before all this. you liked him. you liked that dickhead. well shit.

“i know.” you looked up at him in earnest, hoping he’d read the realization you weren’t yet ready to speak out loud. “i believe you. i’m sorry. stay?” the last word were spoken softly, more a question than anything, asking him not to go.

“okay,” he agreed. then he looked away again, only throwing a half hidden glace your way as he spoke. “i can– if you need to uh– take care of uh– that– i can stay here while– you know–” you almost laughed out loud as you watched him struggle to find the words. was he seriously suggesting you go masturbate, right after he’d basically confessed to you?

“maybe you could help me?” you asked, once again fighting the laughter bubbling it way up your throat at the speed of which he whipped around to look at you. the way his eyes grew wide as he took you in. then you mustered up all the courage you had in you, maybe even emboldened by all of your body’s signals that now what the time of times for getting absolutely ravished. maybe. just a smidge. whatever it was, you cocked your head to the side and smiled. “show me. your feelings i mean. and maybe i could show you mine?”

“do you– are you sure?” atsumu asked, taking you in as he stood there before you.

“absolutely.”

“i’m not going to do anything you don’t want,” he said and closed his eyes for a moment. “i already said i wouldn’t.” the sigh that left you was heavy with frustration. how on earth did you even like this guy?

“atsumu, sometimes you can really be so thick. now help me. please.”

“really?”

“yes! take me to bed,” you said, pulling at his hand to rise from the couch.

“oh. okay. careful!” when the pain in the abdomen made you double over, he caught you in the process. you weren’t quite sure how it happened, but one moment you were about to flop back down onto the couch, the next you were in atsumu’s arms as he carried you bridal style through the living room.

up close, the scent lingering on his skin was stronger. you’d already smelled it when you’d rested against his chest on the couch, but somehow this was just more. maybe it was the knowledge that this wasn’t all just one big charade after all. either way, you liked it. you liked it a lot. and when you reached your bedroom, still floating in his embrace, you weren’t quite ready to be without it, almost making you beg him to just keep you in his arms like this. almost. instead you let him set you down gingerly, on top of your bed, before laying down beside you.

“were you in pain?” he asked, gaze grazing your features as he hovered, propped up on one elbow. “before, i mean. you almost fell over.” atsumu brushed a stray hair from where it fell across your face. you’d never seen him like this, and it made your cheeks heat up under his touch, more than the ovulation already did. you couldn’t help but wonder what had him acting so softly. of course, those feelings he’d just admitted to having, might have some say. but he’d had those for a while, so why now of all times? you couldn’t help but wonder if he was nervous. if he was as nervous as you felt as well.

“i was. i am. it hurts.”

“where?” he asked. “maybe it’d be best if we didn’t–”

“my ovaries,” you said, cutting him off before he could spew any more nonsense. at least it was nonsense in your ears, because while ovulating did hurt for you, it also made you crave touch so incredibly much. it made your skin feel warmer. tingly. it made you wet simply by existing. and he had the audacity to even suggest stopping before either of you really started? “you said you’d help me, didn’t you? so help me. touch me,” you said, looking up at him and catching his eye.

“can i kiss you again?” it was kind of cute seeing him this meek. you hadn’t realized it was something you’d be interested in, but here you were, thighs pressed together as you looked at him. it was as if he’d been transformed. where’d that cocky confidence gone? well. maybe it was your turn to take the lead. and so you did. instead of answering him, you grabbed him by the neck and pulled him to you, almost toppling him over in the progress.

lips pressed together. the heat of your bodies crowding the space on top of your bed. your tongue gently prying his lips apart. the heavy breath he released as he let you in. with his free hand, his fingers set out on that same trailed they’d been on their way to follow earlier. your skin tingled under his touch as he mapped out every inch of your skin as his fingers traveled south. it tingled as he reached the hem of your shirt. of your pyjama pants. you leaned up to kiss him harder. he was parting and you couldn’t stop the smile that found its way into your kiss. but then he drew back, breath labored as he opened his eyes and looked into yours. his fingers lingering there, in an effort to hold back and respect your wishes.

“you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to that,” he said, resting his forehead against yours, keening as your fingers threaded into the hairs at the nape of his neck. cute. you smiled. a smile that promised no sweet nothings whispered in his ears. it promised something different, indeed.

“and i never thought i’d see the day where i’d get to wipe that smug expression off your face.” you couldn’t help the little chuckle that left you at your own words. you really didn’t think you’d see the day. and yet here you were. and what more, his cheeks were clearly heating up and you could tell he was about to bite back. that’s how he was. how the two of you were with each other. and it would seem that you actually liked it.

“well i–”

“atsumu.” his name fell over your lips in a honeyed tone. it was kind of magical how his pupils widened at the sound of your name, so sweet in the intimate embrace of your silent bedroom. it stopped his objections and retaliations before most of them made it even halfway to his lips. you’d have to remember that, you told yourself. maybe you could use it to your advantage in the future. the way his very name affected him so. in the future. because right now, what you really wanted was for him to hurry the fuck up and do what he said he would. and so you told him. “yes. touch me. please.”

and so his fingers dipped further below the waistline of your pajama shorts, underneath your panties. the sharp inhale of breath filling the air when his lips met yours once more. when the pads of his fingers met the slick leaking between your thighs. the intake of breath that mixed with your own little sigh. you’d waited for this for way too long now. you’d wanted it. you angled yourself on the mattress to give him better access. the heavy ghost of his breath fanned across your skin as he kissed you harder. and you kissed him back just as hard. you needed him. a thought you’d never thought you’d have. yet here you were and you wanted him, desired him, needed him. desperately. instinctively.

atsumu’s fingers slipped easily through your folds. the wetness that’d accumulated while he’d been there only making it easier for him to give you what you wanted. deft fingers swiping at your clit, making your eyes screw shut. you leaned up into him, a hand fisting in his shirt to pull him even closer. close enough that he pressed against your side, and the hot swirl in your stomach was all but burning when you felt his hard cock pressed against your side. you wanted to touch it. wrap your hand around it. wrap yourself–

a moan escaped you when atsumu’s fingers pressed against your hole, pushing inside your soft warm cunt. was it warm in your room? it definitely felt warm. almost scalding as you involuntarily bucked into his touch. your skin felt like it might actually catch fire. the way his fingers reached deep within you. the way he paid attention to every little keen and mewl that left your lips. how he adjusted. your hand fisted in the sheets when atsumu’s breath ghosted across the shell of your ear when he leaned in. teeth grazing the delicate skin.

“can i take these off?” atsumu’s fingers slipped from your warmth, instead toying with the hem of your shorts. you’d almost whined at the loss of contact, but his words made you shutter against him. you nodded.

“mhm,” you hummed, not trusting your own voice entirely to speak the word. thankfully, atsumu understood. thankfully, he didn’t ask for further approval before shifted to pull down your shorts. the stunned sound that reveborated at the back of his throat when he laid his eyes on your bare skin. on your exposed, wet cunt. glancing down, you noticed just in time, how his cock twitched under his sweats. he didn’t seem to pay it any mind though. instead he was fully focussed on you. it was intoxicating really, the way he watched you. the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips. lips you couldn’t help but want to kiss. so you did. you reached up to grab him by the neck and pulled him to you. his arms caged you in as you pressed your lips to his. as you moved together with fervor. with such an eagerness and hunger that sent your heart racing.

once more, atsumu’s fingers found your core. you spread your legs for him further, when he pushed back in. letting your head fall back at the sensation, atsumu kissed your jaw. once. twice. then the side of your neck, tongue darting out to play across your skin as you adjusted to give him better access to your skin as well. it felt good. so good. when his fingers moved inside you, curling to find that one spot inside that made you moan a little louder.

once again settling on his side, atsumu pulled you tight to his body. your back now pressed against his front. his breath fanning across your neck as he let his mouth explore your skin. his firm chest against your shoulder blades. the hard planes of his stomach as your lower back slotted against him. oh god, and his cock pressed up against your ass, twitching where it was trapped between your bodies.

“how does it feel?” atsumu murmured against your skin. the sound of his voice making you buck, drawing a harsh hiss through his teeth. but he didn’t acknowledge it. instead he let his thumb swipe over your clit, while reaching deep inside. it felt good. it felt so good. but you didn’t know how to say the words. you didn’t think your voice would actually obey you if you tried. “feel good?” he asked, this time providing you with an easy way out.

“yeah,” you said, your voice coming out more like a breath than an actual word as you nodded.

“good,” he said, taking the lobe of your ear into his mouth, teeth nibbling softly as he gave it a little suck.

good, indeed. it was good. really good. you couldn’t imagine it even feeling this good, with your own fingers pushed inside your pussy. it wasn’t that you didn’t know what you were doing, or what you liked. but this. this was entirely different. the amount of attention he paid to you. the care with with he handled you, even as he picked up his pace, led along by the way your breathing hitched at his touch. his entire presence at your back. even more so, the soothing of that ache you’d felt all night. it was overwhelming, but it was so good. so good, it had your skin tingling and your legs tensing. his hips bucking when you pushed against him, making his cock grind against you. shit.

“shit,” he cursed, taking your cheek in his free hand to turn your face towards him. your lips towards him. he didn’t have to tell you twice. actually, he didn’t even have to tell you once, because you instinctively pounced, capturing his lips with yours in a searing, bruising kiss. one sharp intake of breath later and he kissed you back, hard. his hips ground into yours, as if he couldn’t quite help himself as he curled his fingers, and circled your clit. when he coaxed your lips apart, you moaned into his mouth. it was wet, it was messy, it was so good. his tongue swiped inside and your legs tensed even harder as your eye screwed shut.

pleasure washed over you in waves, your walls clamping down around his fingers as you finally released. fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck. his hands didn’t move. he kept working his fingers inside your cunt. kept kissing you just like that. kept holding you until you finally relaxed against the sheets. against him. that’s when he smiled down at you. an uncharacteristically soft smile that made you feel so safe.

pulling his fingers from your warmth, atsumu moved back, creating distance between the two of you, that safe little bubble threatening to burst. before you even had the mind to think it though, you grabbed his arm and looked him.

“don’t go,” you said. and the way his expression melted at your words.

“i won’t,” atsumu said. your atsumu. because he’d always been your atsumu, hadn’t he? you’d never expected to see the day where you’d utter those words, even inside your own mind. but where you were, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. your atsumu. who did all this for you, without getting anything out of it himself.

“atsumu,” you mumbled, still feeling sluggish as you turned a little in the sheets, hands reaching for him, intention very clear.

“you don’t have to do that,” atsumu said, pushing your hand firmly off of him. as if he hadn’t just brought you cum on his fingers. as if his cock wasn’t straining, trapped inside his sweats. as if it hadn't been pressed against you this entire time, making you yearn to touch it.

“of course i–”

“princess,” he said, cutting you off, still keeping your hand at bay with his own. “you can hardly keep your eyes open. get some rest. i’ll take care of it,” he said, the insistence clear in his voice, as he scooted back and pulling the blanket over you.

“but–”

“sleep,” he interrupted once more, now pulling your blanketed frame to his chest. and he was right, you could barely keep your eyes open. as you drifted off, you felt him kissing the top of your head gingerly. and then, just as unconsciousness took over, you felt him pulling away. “i’ll be right back. promise.”

and just like atsumu’s earlier confession, you knew that he didn’t lie to you this time either.

#haikyuu #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #fanfic #» spicy #everytime i have to tag i fic i get stumped bc i literally do not know how to tag my writing anymore #anyway here's a fic that i started writing back in 2022 but couldn't make work #here we are. now it worked <3 #atsumu finally cooporating

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maester-cressen · 2 months ago

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One of the most heartbreaking things about sharing and reading Palestine evacuation/survival fundraisers is to read how expensive and how hard to get some of the simplest products are in Gaza right now. Sardines, some of the cheapest fishes to ever get here in Brazil, cost up $30 USD a kilo.

Mohammed @ahmed0khalil is only nineteen but has so much on his shoulder. He has to provide for his five siblings, the youngest being six year old Ahmed. He's around 6 years younger than me, but has so many challenges getting food, treatment for his dad's diabetes/his brother's leg wound and hygiene products.

On top of all of this, his campaign (shared by 90-ghost and number 77 on gazavetters) is currently stagnating. It's one of the most important sources of income for the family, as they need to keep sustaining themselves while the border does not open for evacuation. If you live in the UK, you can enter this raffle to contribute to this campaign for a chance to gain a pearl phone charm!

Please boost this and donate if possible! Thank you <3

Taglist:

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@fluoresensitive @khizuo @lesbiandardevil @transmutationisms

@schoolhater @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada

@palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry

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@flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt

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@theropoda @tamarrud @4ft10tvlandfangirl

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@dlxxv-vetted-donations

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#palestine #free palestine #gaza strip #free gaza #all eyes on palestine #all eyes on gaza #all eyes on rafah #i stand with palestine #gaza

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skyeslittlecorner · 3 months ago

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Asmo's Selfie Reflections

First I'll have a little cry about the fact that there are no comics in the new cards. We've been robbed. Best part of the cards, along with the stories, is gone…

At least the prologue, with the presence of the kings and their right hands, was simply wonderful (Bael and his instant killing spree when he saw Beel <33)

I waited so long for Asmo that when he showed up it seemed unreal. He got everything. Most of my favorite physical features - checked. Glimmers of depth in behavior - checked. Being a dark and shady bitch - checked.

Plus, it's my personal thing, but seeing that nearly all my headcanons and assumptions for him matched reality made me squeal like a little girl.

Finally.

It doesn't surprise me at all that one of the the most powerful weapons of Hell is not so much physical, but mental force. Feelings that neither devils nor angels can resist. Love and desire have long been portrayed as some of the most powerful things, I have come across Greek motifs quite often, where the most powerful yet hidden gods were Eros or Aphrodite. As long as the spirit wants to fight, the body will follow, but without the spirit, what is left?

Especially since his order turns off your brain and tells you to follow, no matter how absurd it may be.

Asmo and his mind-fucks can help his own as well as his enemies. Especially since it seems that devils are quite traumatized after meeting him, and if they don't, they are locked up in Abbadon.

Although, it seems that he can control his abilities perfectly. He was able to blend in with the crowd and no one knew who he was.

Ahem I just have to stare at him every five seconds. My equivalent of breathing. And speaking of breathing…

*Grabs bottle of sanitizer and a mask* My dear, I know your (not)bathing routine and I still have pandemic supplies with me.

I love that the kings cover the entire spectrum of their specialties, especially the extremes. Satan is the avatar of anger, but he can keep his cool like no other when he needs to. Mammon is the avatar of greed, yet he is the most generous of demons. You get the idea. Same here, Asmo is both the lust and the love, the ultimate playboy and a loving husband.

And not only that, but complete lack of emotions and cold calculation too.

Oh yes, one of your sons is pretty famous, Vox Akuma as i heard. I really confused them when I saw Asmo for the first time-

Knowing how dark the rest of this is, I'm afraid of what you mean.

What follows is pure madness, and not really in a positive sense. Real madness and exhaustion. I had high hopes that he would take away any senses and twist in every direction, but he does it in such a beautiful way. And what's better, he loses himself too.

I only remember Satan, who at the end of Ch1 gave in to his anger so much that he almost killed Sitri and Ppyong. Asmo seems similar to me, completely lost in lust - only for a long time, without Mammon to calm him down, and without any scruples or limiting his power. If that's the case, then the devils of Abbadon must be damn strong. Crazy, but strong.

It's hard for me to describe anything after that, because it's hard for me to put six days into just a few words??? Literally. I have no idea how to describe it. I've read it a good few (a dozen) times and my brain turns off and goes into fangirl mode instead.

He seems as sweet as he is cold… which intrigues me even more, because so far he gives me the impression of a third party. He is not with the angels, and he is with the rest of the demons because it pays off for him.

At least one thing doesn't change.

Everyone loves to piss off Satan <3

I know that was a very polite analysis. That's not how I planned it, but just, just want to shove my phone into each of your hands and tell you to read it yourself because it's indescribable 😭

I already love this guy, and if he wants to sacrifice me in some twisted way, I'll even pour oil on myself to make the flames smell nice. Am I crazy? Yes. Am I ashamed? Absolutely not. Abbadon, here I come.

#whb #what in the hell is bad #whb asmodeus #it was sooo loooong #it wasn't supposed to be an analysis but that's how he affects me #AND HAVE YOU SEEN HIS HEAD'S LITTLE NODING IN THE UNHOLY BOARD WHEN WE BITE HIM #this little praise is all my life now

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flowerandblood · 11 months ago

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The Sin & The Penance

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, revenge motive, description of physical and mental disabilities, remorse, depression, hysteria attacks, swearing, trauma, suicidal thoughts ]

[ description: After a car accident, his brother has to deal with the consequences of what happened, and he, as his protector, does not know how to help him. His sister comes up with the idea of hiring someone as his carer who will be able to cheer him up and occupy his mind. It turns out, however, that the girl he hired charmed not only his younger brother. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension, dark, malicious Aemond. ]

Author's note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version "Esmeralda" is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 1 − The Knight & The Judge Part 3 − The Doubt & The Delight Epilogue

Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

That night he could not sleep – he wriggled in bed, checking from time to time whether she had perhaps called him back or written anything. Although he had tried to reach her at least ten times she did not answer and he was afraid to write her a message.

What if she went to the police with this?

Maybe that's what he deserved, he thought after a while with regret, staring blankly at the bright screen of his phone, wondering if he should try again despite the late hour.

As much as he tried to find some logical justification for what he had done, he couldn't explain what had really driven him.

Admittedly, at first he was guided only by anger and spite, but then these emotions disappeared, replaced by a hot, dark desire that filled his loins, completely overshadowing his cool judgement.

Something about her brightness, her lightness, her joy, made him long to lean over her like the dark sky, like night over the stars, and cover her with his blackness, his emptiness, consuming and devouring her.

He had never experienced such a disturbing and overpowering sensation before and was horrified that he was prone to such thoughts and such actions.

He had completely lost his mind because of her.

She had asked him to let her go, so why didn't he do so?

Alys had always been eager for his aggressive, violent games, he knew that, and he felt no remorse about what he was doing to her or where, but this little girl was terrified, trembling all over with fear, and yet all he could think about was how desperately he needed to feel her.

Perhaps subconsciously her cheerfulness, her attitude attracted him.

Maybe after years of sadness and mourning he wanted to feel at last something more than grief.

He covered his eyes with his hand, sighing heavily at that thought, feeling a squeeze in his throat and heart.

He only fell into a restless sleep in the morning with his phone lying next to his face, and was awakened two hours later by his alarm clock anyway, which he switched off with displeasure, tired, sad and embarrassed by what he had done.

He couldn't look Daeron in the face as they ate breakfast together. His little brother looked up at him from over his bowl of his favourite cereal with milk – he knew he was about to start asking questions about her.

"When will Esmeralda come here to sew our costumes?" He asked finally, stirring the milk with his spoon, looking at the chocolate balls that floated on its surface.

He pressed his lips together, not knowing how to explain to him how much he had fucked up.

What he had done to her.

"I don't know if she'll even show up here again." He replied truthfully, Daeron gave him a quick, horrified look.

"She promised me. She promised me we'd sew them together and go to the ball." He muttered, his eyes filling with tears again.

He decided he wouldn't be so cruel as to let him believe it was her fault, though part of his mind opted for that.

"I know, but I hurt her and I'm afraid she won't forgive me." He said lowly, swallowing hard, fiddling with his coffee cup, not daring to look at him, his heart pounding like mad.

"What do you mean? Did you hit her?" He asked in disbelief, and he clenched his eyes, realising that in his childish mind the greatest harm a man could do to a woman was that he could slap her.

He was silent for a while, not sure how or if I should explain it to him, whether it would be too much.

"In a way. And I did something else, much worse. Against her pleas. I could go to jail for that." He muttered, covering his face with his hand, feeling that even though he hadn't eaten anything he felt sick to his stomach.

"Why did you do that? She's so kind. What did she do to you? Did you get angry with her because of me?" He mumbled through his tears. He felt a tightening in his throat at the thought that, like any child, he was trying to justify the adult in his head, deciding that after all he was smarter and more experienced than him, so his behaviour must have been because he, his little brother, had done something wrong.

"No. No, it didn't and doesn't have anything to do with you. This is our adult business, but she has the right to be very angry with me and not speak to me. However, I'm completely sure she doesn't blame you." He replied quickly, biting his lower lip.

It wasn't until he spoke it aloud that it occurred to him how pathetic, inappropriate and cruel what he had done was, how afraid she must have been of him.

Was she telling herself she liked it so she could somehow survive it? She decided to go along with it so she wouldn't suffer?

"Do you think I can call her?" He asked in a quivering voice, and he looked at him with his heart pounding fast, recognising in the back of his mind that it was an excellent thought, that she might want to at least talk to him.

"Yes. Yes, of course. I'll give you her number, but call her from your phone. She's not answering from me."

He stared feeling the cold sweat on his back at his brother's reflection in the mirror driving towards the centre, seeing as he pressed the numbers written on the piece of paper on the keypad of his phone and lifted it to his ear – he heard the quiet beep of a call waiting.

He shuddered as someone answered, trying to focus on the road, complete panic in his mind.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Hello? Hi, it's Daeron. Can you talk? No, he can't hear what you're saying, we're just driving to the centre." He muttered, and he swallowed loudly, feeling a constriction in his chest from which he found it hard to breathe, trying to erase from his mind the image of him slamming into her again and again with the brutal, sharp thrusts of his hips.

"He told me that he had done you wrong and that he had hurt you very badly. I'm very sorry he did that. I just wanted to ask when we're going to sew our costumes." He mumbled out quickly. He felt his eyebrows arch in shame and covered his mouth with his free hand, resting his elbow against his car door, looking ahead in disbelief.

How could he do this to her?

For a moment Daeron listened to what she was saying on the phone with concentration and he was dying inside, afraid that she would explain to him with details of what he had done to her. After a moment he nodded as if he understood what she meant, he saw his face lighten a little.

"Okay. Okay, I'll ask my brother if he agrees to it. Bye bye." He said softly and hung up, sighing heavily.

"And?" He asked looking at him in the mirror, stopping in the car park, feeling like he was about to go crazy. His brother looked down at his fingers.

"Esmeralda said that after your argument she can no longer come to our house, but that I can come to her at the University. She said that the building is modern and wheelchair accessible, there are special toilets, lifts and everything needed. We could do my homework in her room in the dormitory and then walk around the campus, sewing and painting." He said uncertainly, glancing at him pleadingly. He swallowed loudly, feeling disappointed and at the same time understanding of her decision and grunted softly, turning off the engine.

"Would you like that?" He asked him calmly, and his brother nodded quickly.

"Then so be it."

Despite his requests, Daeron refused to tell him which of the boys had called him Quasimodo.

He said that it didn't matter now.

He thought with regret that his younger brother had more maturity and calmness in himself than he did.

Sitting at work he was all nerves, he had not received any notification that anyone had filed a police report on him, so for some reason, perhaps out of fear, she had not done so.

He felt both relieved and ashamed at the same time, unable to look at himself, thinking that he was not only disgusting on the outside but also on the inside.

When Alys suggested that they go to the toilet for a while he simply agreed, feeling that he needed to lash out, to expel the grief, shame and desperation that seemed to fill his whole body.

He turned her body violently with her back to him, thinking with fatigue that he didn't want to look at her face. As he unzipped his trousers he tried to focus on what he saw in front of him, on her panties lowered halfway down her thighs, her entrance sticky with arousal. He closed his eyes and grasped his cock firmly in his hand, giving it a few aggressive, hard strokes.

As much as he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about her sweet moans, about how wonderful she smelled, about how tight she was, about her body convulsing in his embrace.

He got instantly hard, wasted no time and surprised his lover, who moaned with delight at feeling how direct and exceptionally violent he was this day, his thrusts full of desperation and aggression, his groans low and throaty.

Something was wrong – her insides were different, her buttocks were different, her scent was different, too intense, her moans too deep, too sensual, not as innocent and surprised as hers.

He pressed his lips together feeling he couldn't focus or get as much pleasure out of it as he would have liked.

"− shut the fuck up −" He growled speeding up but it was to no avail – when he opened his eyes he saw a completely different woman in front of him. He slowed down, swallowing loudly, feeling that nothing would come of it.

"− fucking bastard − ah, don't stop − what happened? − did I do something wrong? −" She asked as he slid out of her and fastened his zipper in a quick motion, furious, disappointed, humiliated, distraught that he wanted her, this little girl, her moans, her scent, her touch, her gaze, her tight, weeping cunt, being able to spend whole nights with his face sunk between her thighs, begging her forgiveness, muttering between the flicks of his tongue that he would make it all up to her.

"− no − I'm sorry, it's my fault −" He said lowly, not wanting to lash out at her. She grunted quietly, surprised, putting her lacy underwear and trousers back on over her hips, fastening them with a quick, nimble movement.

"− you seem stressed − something wrong? − do you want to talk? −" She asked softly, and he felt a kind of gratitude that she hadn't laughed at him or judged him, that she had acted as if nothing had happened.

He decided, however, that he didn't want to share his thoughts with her.

"− no − forgive me − have a nice day −" He said calmly, opening the cubicle door and left the restroom, moving down the corridor in front of him, clenching his eyelids, brushing his short, slicked-back hair with a quick movement.

What had happened between them, what he had done to her had left a mark on more than just her.

He felt as if he had woken up from a lethargy after five years, everything around him was sharper and brighter, painfully clear.

The next morning, according to the arrangements made between her and Daeron, he was to turn up in the car park outside the University from where she was to pick up his brother.

He dreaded this meeting, dreaded what he would see in her face, disgust, regret and bitterness, all the way to the place he felt like stopping and throwing up.

He felt a shudder and a loud pounding of his heart when they arrived at the agreed spot and he noticed her, standing between the cars dressed in a fitted strapless dress with daisies on it, her beautiful hair the scent of which he could still smell in his nostrils loose, trainers on her feet.

He stopped, swallowing hard, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out, glancing at her – she stood at a safe distance from them and looked away, playing with the fingers of her hands, thoughtful and sad.

What he saw hurt him even more than if she had been staring at him with hatred.

He walked around the car and took out Daeron's wheelchair to which he helped him move from the back seat – his little brother beamed at the sight of her and began to move the wheels himself heading towards her. He saw with regret that she smiled warmly when she saw him, genuine joy on her face.

"Hi. High five!" She said to him cockily and their hands hit each other in the air, even though he was standing a few steps away she didn't give him a single glance.

"So, shall we go?" She asked encouragingly, and Daeron nodded.

He wanted to ask if she was sure he would be safe here, if she would remember to take him to lunch, if she would watch out for him, but he didn't dare, shame took his speech away.

He decided it would be better if he kept quiet and led them away with his gaze, then got into his car and drove to work.

He spent all day thinking about her, sitting over the case files recalling again and again her appearance, her pleasant figure, her warm face that beamed all over at the sight of his younger brother.

Why did she have to be like this?

Why did she have to be what he craved, the personification of his deepest, darkest needs, a ripe peach that someone had placed in front of him on a platter while he was starving?

When he arrived after work to pick up Daeron they both stood in the distance, said their goodbyes, and she turned away without even bestowing a single glance on him. He got out of the car, intent on helping his brother into the back seat.

"And how was it?" He asked lowly, feeling sadness and emptiness, anxiety and a strange tightening in his stomach.

"Great! We studied together in her room and then she showed me around the whole campus. We even looked in the classroom where the students were painting portraits and she told me a bit about how it was done. Everyone was very friendly." He said quickly, clearly excited and pleased. He swallowed hard, sighing softly as he folded his wheelchair and threw it back into the boot.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asked calmly, returning to the driver's seat, buckling his seatbelt and turning on the engine.

"Yes, we had lunch in the university canteen. I could choose whatever I wanted." He said with satisfaction, a wide smile on his face.

He felt like asking him if she had mentioned anything about him, if she had anything to convey to him, but realised that there was nothing she might want to tell him.

She was doing this to keep her word to Daeron.

For a few weeks it seemed to him that he had locked himself in some kind of circle, looking forward to Tuesdays and Thursdays, days during which he would see her, albeit only from a distance, her figure bright and graceful.

He wondered with pain if she still had the bruises on her neck that his lips had left and swallowed loudly, feeling ashamed that his manhood reacted to that thought with a strong throbbing in his trousers.

He had suspected it before, but now he was absolutely sure.

He was fucking mad.

On the day the carnival ball was to be held, he was supposed to drive Daeron to the centre and pick him up after a few hours, but he decided that it wouldn't be worth going home for such a short time and he would just wait for them somewhere off to the side without bothering them.

As he pulled up in front of the building he swallowed heavily, seeing her from a distance, already dressed in her Esmeralda costume, her dark, loose hair tied with a violet scarf to form a headband, bells tied to her purple skirt, simple black ballerinas on her feet, round gold earrings in her ears, clanking bracelets on her wrists.

However, what drew his attention most was her white, buff long-sleeved shirt, tucked into the the sea-colored corset under her breasts that wonderfully emphasized her waist, it's sleeves lowered so that her shoulders were bare, it was slit down in the middle, showing the bare skin of her chest.

He swallowed loudly, looking away, feeling with horror that the very sight of it made him hard.

He grunted, helping Daeron out of the car and moved behind him, guessing that she wasn't going to help his brother dress after all, not wanting to invade his privacy.

"You really look like Esmeralda! So beautiful!" Exclaimed his younger brother, and she turned gracefully raising her hands with a clink of her bells and bracelets, showing off her costume in all its glory.

He couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Where's my costume?!" He asked excitedly, and she picked up the large paper bag that stood next to her feet and smiled.

"Here. Let's go." She said lightly without looking at him, Daeron immediately pushed the wheels of his wheelchair and headed after her.

He moved behind them, feeling like an intruder, looking everywhere but at her, trying not to think about the sight of her partially exposed back.

She explained to him quickly what needed to be put on first and how – he was impressed that what she had made really did look like golden armour, but when he took out the individual pieces they turned out to be surprisingly light.

He locked himself and Daeron in one of the toilet cubicles, helping him to change, his brother looking extremely pleased.

"Are you two reconciled?" He asked, clearly thinking that since she was speaking to him again she had forgiven him. He swallowed loudly, not knowing how to explain to him that what he had done could not simply be taken back.

"I don't think so. But don't think about it. Hm?" He asked softly and he lowered his gaze, disappointed.

The sight of himself in the armour gave him confidence – it appeared that the whole thing had been designed so that he could flex his arms, elbows and wrists, the parts fitted together.

He thought with a pained grin that she had really made an effort.

"You look great. What a real knight you are. Come, it's time for you to dance a little with your beautiful Esmeralda." He said calmly, opening the door for him. He wheeled out into the corridor with a smile, his Esmeralda catching her cheeks with a wide smile of delight.

"My knight. Promise to protect me from the evil thugs!" She called out theatrically and glared at him – he swallowed loudly, turning his face away in shame, his younger brother assuring her that he would not let anyone hurt her.

Too late, he thought.

For some reason, he felt tears under his eyelids, his throat squeezed so tight he had trouble breathing.

He watched as they moved ahead into a large gymnasium where the lights were slightly dim, a disco ball was spinning on the ceiling, Girls Just Want To Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper was playing in the background, children and their caretakers spinning around, dressed as various characters and creatures.

Although many of the costumes looked quite impressive, he couldn't take his eyes off her – as she danced she sang the lyrics of the song with theatrical devotion as if she knew them by heart, her hair, bracelets and earrings glistened in the light of the multi-coloured lights, the sweat on the bare skin of her exposed arms glittered like little crystals.

He looked at her leaning with his back against the wall with his hands folded in front of him, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen, covering up what was happening in his trousers.

He looked around the room and noticed a group of boys looking at her and Daeron. He frowned, wondering if they were the ones calling his brother Quasimodo.

He felt some kind of satisfaction at the thought that they were watching his brother dance with a pretty girl.

He really deserved her.

Such a good kid.

He left after a while, pulling a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket – even though he hadn't smoked in months and was trying to quit, he felt that what was happening was too much for him.

His hands trembled as he put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it with his lighter, taking a loud drag, closing his eyes, clenching his fingers on the base of his nose.

There was only chaos in his head.

"We need to talk." He heard her soft, trembling voice and turned around immediately, taking a few steps away, for some reason terrified by her sudden proximity.

He stared at her with his lips slightly parted, his body froze still, his heart pounding like mad, his cigarette burning slowly between his fingers.

God, she was pregnant.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

"I can no longer take care of Daeron. I just wanted to keep my promise and go to the ball with him. I think he's had enough disappointments in his life and I didn't want to provide him with any more." She said shivering all over, looking everywhere but at him – he felt like he was about to vomit from terror and grief.

What?

"But…if I'm the problem, we can arrange it so that I bring him in a while early and you pick him up from under the main entrance. I'll pay you more." He muttered, completely surprised by her words, not knowing what to say, not wanting to imagine how his little brother would react.

She shook her head quickly at his words, fiddling with the bracelets on her wrists in a nervous gesture.

"I can't. He reminds me of you. You two are similar in appearance." She mumbled and burst out crying, drawing in air loudly, covering her face with her hand in an attempt to calm herself. He looked at her in disbelief, feeling his voice get stuck in his throat.

"I haven't told anyone about what you did to me, because in his eyes you are his authority. I don't want to put him through unnecessary suffering, but I expect you to come up with something and find some convincing explanation as to why I can't continue to take care of him, Mr Prosecutor." She muttered regretfully wiping her cheeks swollen from tears, struggling to catch her breath, her plump lips parted, her eyebrows arched in despair.

He didn't know when he fell to his knees in front of her, when he clasped his hands around her waist, dropping his cigarette to the ground – he pressed his face to her womb, breathing loudly, feeling like he was going through some kind of panic, his lungs compressed, tears streaming down his face one after another, everything around him seemed to spin.

"− I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − please, please, forgive me −" He mumbled hysterically what he had wanted to say to her for weeks – he heard her gasp loudly in shock, raising her hands in a gesture of helplessness, felt her place them on his shoulders trying to gently push him away, her stomach trembled under his face in sobs.

"− l-let me go − please, get up −" She whimpered pleadingly, but he shook his head – he thought he couldn't do it, he couldn't let her go.

"− I need you − even if for the rest of my life I will only look at you from afar −" He exhaled helplessly, sinking his nose into the material of her soft skirt, feeling her wonderful scent fill his lungs again, the warmth of her body that enveloped his face.

He didn't care that the people around them were looking at them like they were crazy, didn't care that perhaps they knew who he was.

"− I can't − I've tried − I've forgiven you, but I can't forget − you robbed me of my dignity −" She said in a raspy, broken voice – he felt himself whooping with his own tears, clasping his fingers at her back, his helpless mumbling ripped from his throat as if without the participation of his free will.

"− do what you want with me − fucking destroy me −"

"Aemond? What's going on?" He heard his brother's frightened voice and immediately rose from his knees, letting her go, both of them wiping their faces quickly, her cheeks pale and at the same time red from tears.

"We needed to talk. I'll be right back." She said quickly, forcing herself to smile – Daeron could sense the tension between them though, his lips tightened, his gaze wandering from him to her.

"Have you…reconciled yet? Has my brother apologised to you?" He asked uncertainly and she nodded and laughed lightly, something in her response made him clench his eyelids and swallow loudly – he covered his face with his hand, feeling that for some reason he couldn't stop crying.

You robbed me of my dignity.

"− y-yes − yes, we've already explained everything to each other, we simply got a little emotional − come on, let's go back inside −" She said softly and stroked his head – he smiled at her and glanced over his shoulder.

"Are you coming?" He asked, but he shook his head, choking out that he would wait for them in the car.

He locked himself inside in the driver's seat and put his forehead on the steering wheel, feeling an overpowering emptiness and this awful, terrifying chill, as if someone had gouged out his insides with a spoon like the flesh of a fruit, leaving only a mere shell.

He thought that he had died five years ago, on the day of that accident.

He only existed so that Daeron could live on.

He shuddered, as if awakened from a deep, restless slumber, hearing a knock on the window on his side – he glanced there and saw Daeron waving at him and his Esmeralda, looking at him uncertainly, terrified of his condition, dark night all around them.

He got out of the car, massaging his forehead, feeling a terrible headache, not being sure for a moment where he actually was or what time it was – in an automatic reflex he opened the back door and helped Daeron get in, he could smell her scent beside him, her gaze fixed on him.

"Are you sure you should drive?" She asked hesitantly, and he swallowed loudly, thinking that since the day of that accident he had never gotten into a car that someone else was driving.

"Yes. Shall I drive you back?" He asked lowly, not looking at her, folding Daeron's small wheelchair.

"No need, thank you, I'll get an Uber." She muttered, his younger brother furrowed his brow, looking at her worriedly.

"We'll drive you back. It's late, you shouldn't be going home alone." He insisted.

She sighed quietly and nodded, walking around the car, sitting down next to Daeron in the back seat.

He got behind the wheel and started the engine, involuntarily glancing at her in the mirror – their gazes met, her eyes sad and tired, full of a regret she had every right to feel.

He drove ahead, trying to wake up and focus on the road, looking at the lights of the cars passing him and thought that maybe if he had killed them it would have been better for all of them.

He grunted loudly, tilting his head back, leaning against the backrest, recognising that he had completely lost his mind, that he was sinking into depression and hysteria, that he had reached the very bottom.

It seemed to him that she sensed that something was happening to him – he was catching her on the fact that she was glancing at him uncertainly, answering something to Daeron who was chatting her up, talking about his friends' costumes. She was just nodding, pretending to listen to him, her hands playing with the material of her skirt in a nervous gesture.

God, how he longed for her to drive with him to their house, to go with him to his bedroom, so that he could kneel before her and whisper how sorry he was, how he wished he could make it all right, to slide with his hands the material of her shirt and her skirt, so that his lips could kiss her whole beautiful, warm body with devotion and adoration, her feet, her calves, her thighs, her stomach, her breasts, her neck, her face, her….

"WATCH OUT!" He heard her scream of terror and pressed the brake suddenly, at the last moment stopping in front of a crossroads where he should have given way to those driving on his right and left – a man almost rammed into them and started honking at them, gesticulating aggressively, opening his window and shouting, asking what the fuck he was doing.

He looked quickly in the mirror, feeling as if he was deaf, his brother was crying loudly, snuggled into her, shaking with fear, her eyes wide, staring at him in horror.

"… are you all right?" He asked dully, feeling like his head was spinning – he saw her nod quickly, and then suddenly he went dark in front of his eyes, his head dropped limply and hit something hard.

He was awakened by someone's conversation. He felt someone touching him, something pleasantly warm enveloped him – his body was lying on something soft and comfortable, he thought he was lying on the sofa in his house.

"− overwork, dehydration, stress, trauma − anything could have caused this, ma'am − when can his sister come? −" An unfamiliar voice asked.

"− his younger brother called her, but she only managed to buy a plane ticket for tomorrow −" He heard her soft, warm voice – he shuddered and opened his eyes with difficulty, wanting to see her, to make sure nothing had happened to her.

He spotted her blurred silhouette in the warm light of the night lamp – she was sitting next to him on the sofa in his living room, still dressed in her Esmeralda costume.

"− can you stay here until she arrives? − are you a friend of the family? −" Asked the man who was apparently a paramedic, packing his suitcase and pulling off his latex gloves. She nodded.

"− y-yes − yes, I'm his little brother's carer −" She replied calmly, the man and she both glanced at him when they noticed he was awake.

"− how are you feeling, sir? − you had a panic attack and fainted − I have given you intravenous sedatives and strengthening medications, you should feel better soon −" The man with the black beard, surely a few years older than him, said to him.

He grunted quietly as he tried to raise himself up on his elbows, feeling everything around him swirl and lay back, giving up.

"− fuck − I'm dizzy −" He muttered, his stomach sore and clenched.

She rose from her seat as the doctors left Daeron's room, sighing heavily in relief when the woman explained that he had only been scared.

"Aemond!" He shouted when he saw that he was awake, riding up to him in his wheelchair, wiping his face red from tears.

"− I thought − I thought you had died − you weren't moving − w-we couldn't wake you up −" He mumbled, and he hugged his head to his chest, closing his eyes, stroking his soft hair with his large hand.

"− I'm sorry − I'm so sorry − I've been working too much lately and I fainted −" He lied, swallowing loudly, his brother nodding his head in understanding, cuddling into him like a teddy bear. He kissed his temple, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

He thought he needed to pull himself together.

"− Esmeralda said she would stay with us until Helaena arrives − now it's up to us to take care of you − lie here and don't worry about a thing −" He said in a voice hoarse from crying and patted his head – he felt a tightness in his throat at his words, his eyebrows arched in emotion, he smiled involuntarily, feeling his lower lip tremble.

"− then I'm in good hands −"

He watched wordlessly as the doctors and medics left their house, Daeron showing his Esmeralda where she could find clothes to change into – she appeared a few minutes later in his long black hoodie reaching halfway down her thighs, her legs wonderfully bare.

She bustled around the kitchen with Daeron, trying to make dinner – he couldn't get out of his awe at what a harmonious duo they were, his brother talking to her without shame or embarrassment.

If he had been wiser, if he had given her a chance then instead of humiliating her, maybe now they would be preparing dinner together.

He rose to sit down when she brought him tea and sandwiches, thanking her meekly. He sighed heavily feeling he wouldn't swallow anything and although the medications were starting to work, he felt like his head was going to burst.

She only returned to the living room after she had helped Daeron change into his pyjamas and put him to bed. She approached him hesitantly and sat down next to him on the couch, not looking at him but at the floor.

"How are you feeling?" She asked quietly, covering her knees with the material of his sweatshirt.

He looked at her, silent for a long moment.

"Exactly as I should after what I did." He replied finally, not knowing how else he was supposed to call what he was feeling.

She looked at him with her eyebrows furrowed in pain, regret and sadness in her gaze, but at the same time also some kind of concern.

He thought in disbelief that his fate mattered to her despite what he had done to her.

She lowered her gaze to her knees, fiddling with the material that covered her thighs in a nervous gesture.

"He needs you composed. Emotionally stable." She said sadly, her lips trembling.

He stared at her face unable to take his eyes off her, thinking only of how much he wanted to touch her, dreaming of her hugging him and locking him in her arms.

"I know." He said dryly, understanding exactly what she meant.

He couldn't be unpredictable, distracted while driving in the car, at work and on a daily basis.

Could not be distracted by her.

"Why did you do it? Then when I wanted to leave?" She finally asked in a voice quivering with grief, and looked at him, the depth of disappointment, sadness and emptiness in her bright eyes.

He licked his lower lip dry with stress and swallowed hard, feeling his heart pounding like mad as he stared straight into her face.

"Because I wanted to feel you. You were so sweet and soft. You were melting in my hands. I couldn't stop." He muttered at last, feeling with shame how pathetic that explanation was, thinking he was just a fucking pervert.

He drew in a loud breath as she slid the blanket off him and sat on top of him, pressing her buttocks against what was under his trousers – he wanted to grab her hips, feeling a rush of adrenaline from disbelief, but she grabbed his wrists.

"No. Don't touch me. If I feel your hands on my body I'll start screaming. I will tell Daeron everything you did to me and that you tried to do it a second time." She said with a seriousness from which his breath caught in his throat; he immediately placed his hands as before on either side of his body, watching in disbelief as her tiny fingers undid his button and zipper, his cock immediately swelled and began to pulsate, a loud shuddering sigh escaped his lips.

God, was she really going to do this?

As if in response to his thoughts, she spread the material of his trousers to the side and slid his boxers down, revealing his throbbing erection, twitching with lust, the head of it pink and glistening. He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, swallowing loudly when he felt her grab it's base with a gentle flick of her hand and direct its thick tip between her warm thighs.

She had no underwear underneath.

She lowered herself onto him a tiny bit, barely sinking the fat head of his cock inside her, teasing him with the lewd click of her moisture – the sight of him stretching her slit and how wet she was turned him on so much that a low, helpless groan escaped his throat.

"− be quiet or I'll stop − do you want me to stop? − you didn't give me that choice, but I'm not that cruel −" She said with regret as he shook his head quickly, feeling how desperate he was to feel her again.

"− please −" He heard his own pathetic voice, not believing he was allowing it, but he no longer cared what she would do to him, he wanted to fuck her in any way she would let him.

He felt some relief at the thought of being humiliated, he wanted her to do to him what he did to her even though he knew she didn't have his awful nature.

"− what are you asking me to do? −" She whispered softly, almost tenderly, as if her superiority over him was giving her back what he had taken from her, her power over her own body, over what was happening to her.

"− use me −" He breathed out in a voice hoarse with emotion, saw that something had changed in her gaze, her lips parted in a shuddering breath.

He clasped his hands on the fabric of the couch and leaned his head back, gasping out loud as he felt her let him all the way inside her, his hard, fat cock throbbed aggressively with desire squeezed wonderfully by her hot, tight walls – he knew he was embarrassingly close to fulfilment and that she felt it too.

She put her hands on his shoulders, leaning over him, but not moving, waiting for his manhood to stop twitching inside her – her pretty, flushed face surrounded by her dark, shiny curls, her bright eyes fixed on him, her plump, swollen lips parted in a quickened breath.

"− use you? − mr. prosecutor wants to make me feel good? −" She asked in a whisper, her voice trembling with fear and arousal, as if she herself was shocked by what she was doing and by the fact that he was listening to her, by the way he was responding to her, by how much he desired her.

"− yes −" He mumbled out and closed his eyes with a low moan, feeling that with flick of her hips she slowly slid his cock out of her only to push it back in with a loud click of her wetness.

"− why? −" She exhaled, moving on top of him painfully slowly, her tight fleshy muscles giving him a wonderful squeeze each time she forced him back between her plushy folds, they both began to breathe louder and louder. He bent his legs at the knees, involuntarily tentatively responding to her thrusts with deep stabs of his hips.

"− God, don't you see that I crave you? −" He groaned low, with the last of his strong will restraining himself from tightening his hands on her buttocks and forcing her to move faster.

There was something wonderful about this slow agony, in the way she teased him, rubbing herself at the spot from which she felt the greatest pleasure, a sweet moan escaped her lips at his words.

"− are you always like this when you see me? − like you are now between my thighs? −" She mumbled in embarrassment, speeding up, their naked bodies began to slam against each other with splats of her moisture – he dared to buck into her harder, they both began to pant loudly, looking at each other with their mouths wide open, her lips puffy with desire.

"− of course − I jerk off every day thinking about you − fuck −" He muttered with difficulty, feeling the tickle and heat in his lower abdomen, his cock swelling with desire so much that he felt like it was about to explode if he didn't come inside her, their naked bodies slamming against each other.

He delighted in the sight of her throwing her head back at his words, her hot core pulsed hard around him, sucking him inside, her fingers clenched on the material of his sweatshirt, her buttocks slapping loudly against his thighs, soaking him all over.

"− touch me − touch me −" She cried out and he caught her quickly, one of his hands weaved into her hair and pressed her face against his, their lips joined in an aggressive, thirsty, sticky kiss, the fingers of his other hand clenched on the soft, firm skin of her ass.

They moaned loudly into each other's mouths as he began to pound into her like mad, almost not sliding out of her anymore – he embraced her and hugged her body to his, gripping her around the waist, her hands stroking his cheeks, his neck, his scar, his cock thrusting into her weeping folds twitching and throbbing like crazy.

"− fuck − fuck, baby, m gonna cum −" He babbled between the flicks of their lips, tongues and teeth. She gasped and came at his words with a loud mewl of surprise – he felt her moisture run down her thighs onto his lower abdomen, her muscles began to clench on him greedily, squeezing him wonderfully. He threw his head back and moaned in relief when he felt his warm seed spurt out inside her.

"− oh God − oh my fucking God −" He mumbled, experiencing such an intense orgasm for the first time in his life – for a moment he went dark before his eyes, he could see or hear nothing, there was only the wonderful hot pleasure spilling over his whole body, his hands clenched on her hot skin.

He hugged her close, snuggling her face into the hollow of his neck, covering their bodies with his blanket, not wanting Daeron to accidentally find them in this position, while having no intention of changing it.

He felt wonderful.

He stroked her soft hair placing tender, wet kisses on her temple, his other hand trailing reassuringly down her back, feeling that she was trembling all over with emotion, unsure as he was of what had really happened between them.

"− sleep here, little one − I won't touch you against your will − I promise −" He whispered, but her silence answered him – she breathed loudly along with him, lying still, his half-soft manhood still throbbing deep inside her.

"− I know −" She replied quietly after a moment, rising on her shoulders, sliding him out of her with a soft motion of her hips, his hands clasped helplessly on her thighs.

"− please, don't go −" He muttered, looking at her in horror, his heart pounding like mad.

Please, let me go.

"− I'm sorry −"

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Please, let me go.

She rose from the couch, trembling all over, covering her thighs with his sweatshirt, his semen mingled with her moisture ran down her naked skin.

"− I'll sleep in the free room next to Daeron's bedroom − I'll lock myself in − don't come to me and don't ever touch me again − we're even −" She said in a calm, quivering voice full of sorrow, sadness and emptiness.

He wanted to touch her fingers but she turned and left the living room, hiding her face in her hand as if she was crying again, disappearing down the corridor.

He lay looking dully at the spot where she had stood just a moment before, feeling a squeeze in his throat – with trembling hands he slipped his boxers back on and zipped up his trousers, feeling tears of disappointment running down the sides of his face onto the pillow under his head.

We're even.

_____

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(bold means I couldn't tag you)

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steddieunderdogfics · 5 months ago

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: steddieasitgoes! @steddieasitgoes has 27 works posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 23 of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @steddieasitgoes:

Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours)

for a fortnight there, we were forever

honey i'm still free (take a chance on me)

You Were All Yellow

Eat Your Heart Out, Big Boy

"Her fics are SO FUN. I have enjoyed every single one that I've read IMMENSELY and am always talking about them to my friends after I've read them <3" -- anonymous

Below the cut, @steddieasitgoes answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Was I supposed to watch Eddie throw Steve his vest – the quintessential 80s romcom moment – and be totally normal about it? But in all honesty, there’s just something about them that compels me. When you dig deep into their personalities and arcs, they’re really two sides of the same coin and there’s so many ways for that to manifest in fic.hen

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I had to consult my ao3 bookmarks for this one and “getting together” tops my list, which really isn’t a traditional trope but I absolutely adore that mutual pining, idiots in love sort of thing that happens in those fics. Bonus points for slow burns!

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Idiots in love for sure. Again, not a typical trope but I’m pretty sure it’s tagged on just about every fic I’ve written. It’s just so easy to slot them into those roles and banter their way into a love confession. The show is so life and death all the time, that I like letting them be goofy boys.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This is like asking me to choose if I’m more of a Steve girl or an Eddie girl – impossible! But if I had to narrow it down to a top few, I’d say: the most remarkable thing by greatunironic, rounding third, sliding home by througheden, better by you, better than me by palmviolet, and is your light on? By Adure

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Outside of fic I’m a huge fan of enemies/rivals to lovers so I think that would be fun to explore between Steddie. There’s a hint of it in Signed, Sealed, Delivered but I think their hatred fizzles out really quickly and I definitely want to play with something where that takes longer to happen.

What is your writing process like?

It sort of depends on the project, but typically I get a kernel of an idea. Somethings that’s a setting, sometime it’s a bit of dialogue, sometimes it’s just ✨ vibes ✨ Then I’ll add it to my jumbled mess of a notes app on my phone and keep adding to it as I get ideas. When I wrote my first fic (Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore) I had no outline whatsoever. I just knew I had this one scene in mind and kept writing and building the world until I felt the moment made sense to happen. Nowadays, I’m a bit more organized when it comes to longer fics. I’ll usually do a bare bones outline with the major beats I want to hit outlined. This gives me enough structure to not feel lost, but also lets the characters breath one the page and make their own choices. Every fic, but the one I’m working on now for the steddie big bang, I’ve written chronologically which helps me because I can see the progression of the relationship dynamics in real time. For one shots, it’s somewhat similar. I start with a kernel of an idea and a general plot in my head and just write and hope for the best lol

Do you have any writing quirks?

I think I use the same sentence structure a lot which drives me nuts, but I can’t always help it. Motif-wise I don’t think I have a unifying theme amongst all my fics, but I can almost guarantee that there will be some kind of third act break up. Happily ever afters are always going to be in my fics, but I like to make them work for it. Also they do a lot of gazing at each other and things in my fics. So much gazing!

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Generally, I like posting when something is completely finished. But I get antsy and have been known to start posting when the fic is 85% done and then procrastinate on writing the end until my deadline is looming.

Which fic are you most proud of?

I’m proud of all of them for different reasons, but I was really blown away with Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore. I hadn’t written fic in years and had never written a third-person mlm story before. At the time it was also the longest thing I had ever written. It definitely made me fall back in love with fictional prose writing and the steddie community as a whole.

How did you get the idea for Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours)?

It was actually inspired by a ficlet I had written earlier that year and decided to use as inspiration for the full length fic. I was driving around and I kept seeing mail trucks everywhere and I remember getting an image of Steve in those short khaki shorts, carrying a satchel full of mail. And then I remember thinking “I wonder what Eddie would think” and the worms took over. I will say, expanding it into a full fic did take some time though because the ficlet was just vibes

When writing Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours), what was something you didn’t expect?

How long it ended up being lol I think it came in double what I had predicted it to be. I also didn’t expect to write it in the way I did. All my other fics are very traditional in that each chapter is a day or a couple days and it follows a clear timeline. With Signed I really went for a vignette, slice of life sort of storytelling which was a bit difficult initially but I think it paid off in the end.

What inspired honey i'm still free (take a chance on me)?

That one was written for a valentine’s discord server so it was based on the prompt steddiealltheway on Tumblr had submitted. It took me a minute to work out the plot, but I liked the idea of Robin getting to be the wingwoman for Steve.

What was your favorite part to write from for a fortnight there, we were forever?

There was a metaness to that one that was so fun to write. You have Eddie falling in love with Supernatural, a show that was known for making questionable decisions in the end and talking about how fanfic saves the day and that’s exactly what I’ve spent the last two years doing for him lol I love the idea of Eddie being a fandom kid like all of us, and dragging and unknowing Steve into it with him.

How do/did you feel writing Eat Your Heart Out, Big Boy?

At the time I think I just wanted to write something fun and silly because I was deep into Signed, Sealed, Delivered at the time and was feeling bad about not sharing anything. It was like a palette cleanser.

What was the most difficult part of writing You Were All Yellow?

Definitely deciding which yellow objects I was going to use and figuring out how to string them together in a clear narrative arc. It was a puzzle of sorts that took a lot of patience to figure out. It was also a bit reverse-engineered where the objects dictated what the story would be. I think it would have been easier if I had the story first and then found things that fit that narrative.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I struggle with writing poetically, so I was really proud of this line from Duck, Dodge, Don’t Fall In Love: “He feels like an astronomer falling in love with stars for the first time in the untouchable night sky. Because that’s what Steve is, right? A dazzling force that Eddie can steal glances at but never touch, never reach.” But also any and all smut scenes I’ve written. That was an incredible challenge at first and I literally wrote the first make out scene ever under the covers of my bed lol

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m planning to participate in this year’s Steddie Week with some (hopefully) short one shots. And then I have my big bang fic When The Buzzer Sounds that will come out later this year. Other than that we’ll see. My notes are overflowing with ideas it’s all about finding the time and the right one.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

As I write this I’m not sure who nominated me, but I want to say thank you to them! It’s so wild to me that people resonate with the silly stories my brain comes up with and I’ll never take that for granted. There’s so many creative steddie fic writers out there and I’m so happy to be one of them. We really blew up overnight and it’s been so fun watching everyone grow together. And I want to thank all the mods behind this blog for helping share writers hardwork!

Thank you to our author, @steddieasitgoes, and our anonymous nominator! See more of steddieasitgoes's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #ao3 writer #steddie writers

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