#i need to stop saying and writing y'all

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF SHENKO 1/?

The end of the world has a way of reminding you of all the things you forgot to say do. Mass Effect: Legendary Edition (2021)

[takaraphoenix]

No, actually, I’ll not just be generally vaguely upset about the framework that pisses me off, I will also be specifically pissed off about the way he’s trying to pat himself on the back and rewrite history.

So having a gay character be brave by coming out and that bravery be an inspiration to other queer characters so they can be brave and come out too is something that comes off poor on its own already - because of the shallow framework that our existence alone is already oh-so brave of us and that others wouldn’t have dared come out if not for Major Queer Character who did it first.

But there is something particularly twisted and nasty about Riordan using this for Nico di Angelo, actually.

Because Nico di Angelo didn’t come out.

Nico di Angelo didn’t get to be brave or inspirational.

Nico di Angelo was forced out of the closet.

Nico di Angelo was outed against his will, in front of others.

Eros forced Nico to come out in front of Jason.

And, quite frankly, the way it was handled further was just as poor. To make this repressed teen from the 1930s, who up until mere days ago was dealing with severe internalized homophobia and couldn’t even admit his own feelings to himself, confess his crush in public, in the middle of camp...

Both of these events really just showed that Riordan is a straight man who doesn’t know this, and didn’t do his research beforehand.

And people just love giving Riordan the benefit of the doubt. Love giving him a pass and clapping him on the shoulder for the inclusion and for trying. And you know what! Yeah, I do love that he includes the gays. I do not think he should get excused for handling representation like shit though.

And this? This is in his newest book? You should think authors grow. Best selling authors should do more research. Get consultants. Stuff like that.

Instead, we’re going back and rewriting history. That forced coming out? Now a moment of bravery and inspiration for others!! Look how great and amazing that is!

Nico di Angelo didn’t get to choose that he was ready to come out, it wasn’t a moment of bravery. Not the kind of bravery that it takes when you are ready to face your personal truth and willingly take the step to own it. It was a moment of fear and desperation. And it was the bravery to face that fear and desperation.

And it really makes me sick to now learn that we’re looking back at it and pretending otherwise, in-universe.

[thediamondarcher]

I hate seeing people saying Nick is flawless or perfect because he's literally right in front of you, his flaws are THERE and you're still not seeing them

[stringsnwires]

Engineer, you are incredible. Your teammates, your acquaintances, even the many strangers that knew you only from a distance, all seem to refer to you with nothing but good words. Consider your accomplishments in your field of passion, consider your skills that leave many slack-jawed and fascinated even decades away from you, consider how much of an anchor you are for so many, how even if everything you are is not effortless, it certainly seems like it.

You could never disappoint anyone, even if you lost all these things, or gave them up - at your core, you are the man that's already brought so much to the world, a lot of which many agree is good. If there's one thing you can't do, it's disappointing someone. If you are happy with someone, your family should be happy for you as well. Again, it is only ever your choice to tell them, but, you've done enough. You can forge your own life now, Dell.

Stay safe, and give your sweetheart a reminder you're happy to have him. :-)

- Foreigner Anon. (Alive and well, haha.)

Aw, hell, Mister (or Miss).

You're awful sweet. I wish I could respond properly, but you've left me thoroughly tongue tied. I appreciate all y'all for these things. Swear I don't need em any more than the next guy.

I don't know ya any, but I'm mighty certain I could say it all back to you, fella. Thank you.

[queer-reader-07]

bashing my head through the wall because for some reason everyone on this website seems to forget neil isn't the sole creator of good omens

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

the 2014-2018 harrison nickname (ris) making a COMEBACK as I write my scene ideas out on these notecards because I am NOT writing his whole name out a bajillion times

[mischiefprincess]

I have so many thoughts about Mobius, I absolutely HATE the way he treats Loki in various moments of s1, the way he tries to manipulate him and use him for the tva's mission, and he has the audacity to feel betrayed by Loki when he runs after sylvie and leaves him behind in s1e2???

Sir you KIDNAPPED LOKI AND ERASED HIS ENTIRE REALITY, MENTALLY TORTURED HIM WITH FOOTAGE FROM HIS TRAGIC FUTURE, COERCED HIM INTO WORKING FOR YOU UNDER THE THREAT OF BEING ERASED FROM REALITY IF HE DIDN'T COMPLY AND YOU REALLY THINK YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE MAD AT HIM FOR TRYING TO ESCAPE???

What he does after is even worse, I could NEVER accept him putting Loki into a torture loop to be kicked in the balls and to hear Sif telling him that he deserves to be alone and he always will be, the worse part imo is that a lot of lokius fans seem to think this is cute and a show of Mobius's feelings towards Loki, what the hell???

First off he doesn't have the right to be mad at Loki, second, torturing someone like that is absolutely fucking VILE and I don't care that people think it's cute or funny

BUT

I blame those disgusting actions more on the directing of s1 who was very keen in humiliating Loki at any given moment than in the character of Mobius itself, I ADORE Mobius in s2 bc he is sweet, caring and understanding of Loki, he truly is a good friend and I love their dynamic in it, I don't know what Kate Herron had against Loki but she truly tried her best to diminish and humiliate him whenever she could, every character is annoyed by Loki in s1 and he's treated like a fucking idiot, thankfully that was changed in s2 and he was finally treated with respect and dignity

Btw I should say that I appreciate lokius very much and I think they're cute together but pls stop with the crap, Mobius's "jealousy" isn't cute or funny, he literally abuses Loki just bc he can and Loki never gets a proper apology for that, Mobius apologizes to sylvie but never to Loki (KH when I find you...), again I blame this on the directing and writing of s1 and I don't think s2 Mobius would've done all that to Loki bc he's a different character in it

[boomerang109]

thinking about wwda azula

[flintbian]

I may get crucified for saying this but y'all I'm genuinely not sure what you were expecting. The show was bad from the beginning. All it had to offer was shallow diversity points. There was no compelling narrative to fulfill from the get go.

[shivasdarknight]

banging my head on the table

why do people have this urge to come onto other peoples' posts and make it about themselves.

the number of times ive talked about My Own Lore publicly and someones come onto My post to talk about their stuff while completely ignoring everything i said.

like do you not realize how shitty that feels. wouldnt you not want it to happen to you.

then why the FUCK do you do it to others.

[firendgold]

Since I saw that you're doing the violence ask game can you answer 22, 25 and 7??

I sure can.~

This one got long af though, so another readmore.

(still choosing violence)

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

This is another one I've answered already, but tbf... it was yesterday. So I can pull my second favorite part of canon instead so you don't have to re-read an older answer.

There's two moments that tie: one in year 5 and one in year 6. Year 5's moment is a nice warm-and-fuzzy "the trio are such good friends" scene, in the midst of Umbridge torturing Harry with her quill:

It was nearly midnight when Harry left Umbridge’s office that night, his hand now bleeding so severely that it was staining the scarf he had wrapped around it. He expected the common room to be empty when he returned, but Ron and Hermione had sat up waiting for him. He was pleased to see them, especially as Hermione was disposed to be sympathetic rather than critical. “Here,” she said anxiously, pushing a small bowl of yellow liquid toward him, “soak your hand in that, it’s a solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles, it should help.” Harry placed his bleeding, aching hand into the bowl and experienced a wonderful feeling of relief. Crookshanks curled around his legs, purring loudly, and then leapt into his lap and settled down. “Thanks,” he said gratefully, scratching behind Crookshanks’s ears with his left hand. “I still reckon you should complain about this,” said Ron in a low voice. “No,” said Harry flatly. “McGonagall would go nuts if she knew—” “Yeah, she probably would,” said Harry. “And how long d’you reckon it’d take Umbridge to pass another Decree saying anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked immediately?” Ron opened his mouth to retort but nothing came out and after a moment he closed it again in a defeated sort of way. “She’s an awful woman,” said Hermione in a small voice. “Awful. You know, I was just saying to Ron when you came in . . . we’ve got to do something about her.” “I suggested poison,” said Ron grimly.

Just seeing the trio bounce off each other is soothing (especially after reading days or weeks worth of fanfics where they all suddenly hate each other or were never really that good of friends or whatever). Harry's gratitude and stubbornness, Hermione's caretaking and forethought and plotting, Ron's voice of reason and necessary dash of humor... all perfect. Also, just... Harry is so used to going things alone, toughing things out by himself. It's heartwarming and sad that he still doesn't expect Ron and Hermione to do something as simple as waiting up for him to get back from hellish detention. Also also: Crookshanks curling up with him. ^^

Year 6's moment is just between Harry and Hermione:

Hermione stopped dead; Harry had heard it too. Somebody had moved close behind them among the dark bookshelves. They waited and a moment later the vulture-like countenance of Madam Pince appeared round the corner, her sunken cheeks, her skin like parchment and her long hooked nose illuminated unflatteringly by the lamp she was carrying. ‘The library is now closed,’ she said. ‘Mind you return anything you have borrowed to the correct – what have you been doing to that book, you depraved boy?’ ‘It isn’t the library’s, it’s mine!’ said Harry hastily, snatching his copy of Advanced Potion-Making off the table as she lunged at it with a clawlike hand. ‘Despoiled!’ she hissed. ‘Desecrated! Befouled!’ ‘It’s just a book that’s been written in!’ said Harry, tugging it out of her grip. She looked as though she might have a seizure; Hermione, who had hastily packed her things, grabbed Harry by the arm and frogmarched him away. ‘She’ll ban you from the library if you’re not careful. Why did you have to bring that stupid book?’ ‘It’s not my fault she’s barking mad, Hermione. Or d’you think she overheard you being rude about Filch? I’ve always thought there might be something going on between them …’ ‘Oh, ha, ha …’ Enjoying the fact that they could speak normally again, they made their way along the deserted, lamplit corridors back to the common room, arguing about whether or not Filch and Madam Pince were secretly in love with each other.

Very, very cute scene showing Harry and Hermione getting along casually, something we're not often treated to even in canon. A frankly disturbing amount of fans (particularly fans of A Specific Ship I Will Not Mention Here) have bought into the propaganda that Harry and Hermione aren't really that good of friends just because during GOF, when he'd just experienced his first ever schism with a close friend, Harry privately confessed to missing Ron and enjoying the things he did with his male best friend more. The trio is not "Harry and Ron, then Ron and Hermione". It's "Harry, Ron, and Hermione"; all three of them are necessary pieces of the whole. Harry and Hermione's friendship is different than Harry's with Ron, but it's no less valuable, and not any weaker, or else Hermione wouldn't have stayed in that damned tent.

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

Every bit of discourse about Sirius not getting a trial. We know. The injustice is the point. The cruelty is the point. The POINT is to show that wizarding Britain is glitz and glamor and not all that fair to its marginalized peoples and underclass, you nimrods. Frankly, the fanfics that purport to 'fix' it by giving Sirius his "restored Lordship" or a bunch of seats on the Wizengamot or immediate "wizarding guardianship" over Harry or some unnamed hot babes for him to fuck on or off-screen are very... shallow and unsatisfying. Either that or they give him a bunch of money, though this would at least be on brand for the Ministry. But like... yeah. I'm tired of this complaint always going in the same direction and not being a gateway to Greater Commentary On The Series and the World. Because it's not like Sirius and/or Harry become the type of people who rebel against this ideology. If anything, they embrace the pureblood nonsense in a lot of these fics and are just mad that Sirius was the target that one time. Gaaaah.

And, and. Every bit of discourse about Dumbledore leaving Harry at the Dursleys and/or the sacrificial lamb throwaway line by Snape, especially because 99.9% of people discussing it either haven't read the books, haven't read them since the first time and desperately need a re-read, have only seen the movies, are parroting opinions from some other wrong person on the internet, are all read-up but blatantly ignoring what Dumbledore and Harry say (and don't say) over what they THINK they mean, or some other lovely form of ignorance that leads to the same long-debunked takes being re-introduced as GASP-DID-YOU-EVER-CONSIDER soundbites over and over and over and OVER again. I'm so sick of it.

I get it, JKR's a TERF, you don't want to re-engage with her work, and you don't have to. You don't have to give her any more money. Hell, you shouldn't, ever again. But please, fucking make sure your knowledge is correct and not fandom telephone when it comes to Harry's childhood and Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. I'm not-even-lowkey sick of some of y'all at this point.

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because of how the fandom acts about them?

I... don't have an immediate answer for this, so I'm going to have to think about it. To you it's only going to take me one line, but for me it'll actually be like... an evening or something.

...

Okay.

This is difficult because (to use the exact terminology) I can't think of a character I've come to hate because of how the fandom acts about them. I definitely have characters whose most popular fanon versions are so irritating or repulsive that it has caused me to look more critically on the real versions of them, though. I guess maybe I'll list those here.

Fleur came to mind first. She seems (and can be) very shallow and haughty in canon at first, but shows compassion and hidden depths in all three of her appearances. She has some veela hair in her wand from her grandmother, and a deep devotion for her younger sister. However... many fanfics (especially harem fanfics or flowerpot fanfics) paint her as either this femme fatale who uses her "veela allure" at will and Cannot Fathom the idea of a man who can resist her (and is thus more vulnerable to falling in love with such a man) or as a super-powerful witch whose family is basically running Magical France (since of course, she is the only French character we know, so why wouldn't she be the most influential person there? /s). Basically, the "foreign" version of what people do to fanon Daphne Greengrass. Ironically, the best fanfic portrayals of Fleur I've seen are the ones that keep her shipped with Bill (with a few flowerpot exceptions, see A Beautiful Lie by MaybeMayba as the prime example), or ship her with Hermione or Ginny... which is sad because I love me some ship variety. (And I still think Bill/Tonks would've been rad as hell.) So I don't dislike canon Fleur, but fanon's "over-attention" to that possible veela heritage and the weird implication that Harry was just "forced" not to notice this perfect woman in his life, rather than just noticing her beauty and not being interested, rubs me the wrong way and disinclines me from including her in many of my own works.

The Bones family is next. Yes, both Amelia and Susan. Susan isn't as bad (I think she has... two lines in Order of the Phoenix? maybe?), but as with most "mostly undefined" HP girls, the personality the fandom has given her (the super sweet politically-savvy Hufflepuff girlfriend of "just do independent!Harry with Lordships and pro-Ministry propaganda and plenty of Wizengamot meetings between Hogwarts classes") is one I've seen so many times it has come to negatively affect my view of the real girl, even though I think the way she calls Amelia "auntie" in canon is adorable. As for Amelia, fanon likes to make her either the Only Sane Man in the Ministry or the leader of the sane faction, who magically is able to fix or ignore all the corruption in said Ministry and can railroad through whatever decisions Harry needs done once he needs to Do Political or Pureblood Stuff Outside of Hogwarts--provided, of course, he's been nice enough to Susan recently.

The closest actual answer to this question I have is Tom Riddle. I didn't like him in canon by any means--I'd probably say I was neutral toward him, just seeing him as "the young Voldemort before he did his magical girl transformation". But fanon kind of acts like he and Voldemort are... two different people? There's these pervasive ideas that either Tom could've been "saved" if Certain People Just Did More (to stop him sneaking around and bullying and murdering???), or that Tom wasn't really so bad when he was gathering up supporters, murdering his family members and the few people who trusted him, and generally going around Becoming the Dark Lord--it was just when he made the switch that he became bad. And like... no. I can't buy that. Even in fanfic, I can't get fully behind the idea of a sane Tom Riddle who was Doing Good until he got sidetracked Oh Nooo. He wasn't. I believe Voldemort was saner before he tried to kill a baby and it backfired, but I don't think there was ever a point where he could have been saved. At every fork he made the wrong decision--to soothe his ego, to feel powerful, to feel special, to feel better than others and make them feel that way too. Tom Riddle's a prick. If anything, we should've seen him squirm a little more before he died.

The last one stings, because it's a character I adore: Hermione. Hermione is a very polarizing figure in canon and always has been, I get it. But what particularly hurts me about her fanon portrayals is that they are VERY SELDOM accurate, or even balanced. Either the author sees her as Their Wife and so she is perfect and never does any wrong and basically becomes the main character of the fic (even if she is not actually the main character), or they overinflate her flaws and use it as a reason to hate on her and bash her to oblivion. There's rarely an in-between. I'm not sure which one is worse. If you held my feet to the fire, I might say the former because a character without any flaws or one who takes over the entire narrative and doesn't let other characters breathe is not fucking interesting to me in the slightest.

This especially hurts because I am a huge Harmony fan and like 60% of bad Harmony fanfics are always the same fucking tropes/plotlines. Hermione is unironically referred to as The Brightest Witch of THE Age (incorrect, not what Remus said. he said "the brightest witch of your age I've ever met", basically meaning she's unusually smart for a fourteen year-old girl). She's treated like the next female Dumbledore who has all the answers (even about stuff she wouldn't know) and often guides Harry's every move.

And speaking of Dumbledore--the same girl who is supportive of him in canon and (after Harry) is MOST likely to recognize Dumbledore as a human who can make mistakes is ALWAYS turned into a Dumbledore Skeptic Who Has Been Suspicious of His Motives All Along, and who will do whatever it takes to get her boyfriend away from his manipulations... by taking manipulative!Dumbledore's place. That's right. This version of fanon Hermione ALWAYS becomes the same thing the author is supposedly railing against, because Harry becomes her mouthpiece, spends all his time with her to the exclusion of anyone else, and can't have a single meeting or meaningful scene with any other character unless she is also present.

Haphne fics do this too, but I swear they got it from bad Harmony fics and it makes me so mad. For once, I would love to read a Harmony fic where Dumbledore is portrayed accurately and both Harry AND Hermione are equal, independent partners who don't have panic attacks if separated for more than five minutes. Especially because as a child Hermione never struck me as the kind of person who even would get married or have a serious relationship distracting her from her Great Work!

But yeah. That last one hurts the most because I love Hermione as an individual, as the very important third of the trio, as a potential partner for Harry (though this isn't the right blog for that!), and just as an iconic character.

I... think that's all? Yep. Thanks~!

[a-b-riddle]

Part Six

Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.

None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.

You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.

The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.

By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.

A colleague. You had a colleague!!!

The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.

It was one of them.

You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.

Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.

A vision.

You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.

"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"

"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"

"Listen," "Bon-"

"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."

"If you just let me make it-"

"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."

"Just give me a chance."

"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”

So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."

"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.

"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”

“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.

There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.

“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”

You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.

Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.

"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.

But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.

No.

If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.

No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.

"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."

"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.

He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.

"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.

His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.

There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.

He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.

He doesn't throw you on the bed.

Not this time.

He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.

But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.

"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.

He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.

"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.

"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.

In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."

You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.

He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.

Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.

With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.

It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.

The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"

"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.

His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.

His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.

"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.

"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.

It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.

You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.

The end.

He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."

You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.

"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.

He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.

"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.

He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.

His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.

You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.

You needed it to stop.

You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.

I could die like this, Lass.

Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.

He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.

You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.

You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.

You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.

His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.

Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.

"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.

"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."

You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.

"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.

You weren't too far behind.

He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.

But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.

"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."

He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.

in out in out in out.

Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.

"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.

His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.

His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.

"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."

He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.

"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.

"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."

You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.

Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.

"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.

The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.

Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.

"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."

"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."

"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."

"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"

"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."

"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."

"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.

"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."

"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"

No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.

But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.

You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.

So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.

"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.

"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.

You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.

You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.

Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.

"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"

You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.

Three minutes.

Three minutes.

"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."

You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.

You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.

You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.

"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.

"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."

"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.

[mrsbarnesblog]

Tattoo

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader

Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.

Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘

“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off. 

“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach. 

You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse. 

“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree. 

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that. 

But you were so wrong. 

As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint. 

“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug. 

“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.

"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him. 

“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky... 

Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath. 

Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself. 

Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn. 

He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing. 

He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person. 

“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile. 

And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk. 

You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.

You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head. 

“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot. 

“Thank you.” You almost whispered. 

Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.

You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo. 

To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes. 

“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away. 

“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness. 

“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”

Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.

“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.

“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”

“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it. 

"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke? 

Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session. 

“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there. 

“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.” 

“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”

“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”

You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you. 

The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over. 

You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. 

“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected. 

“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it. 

“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”

“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.” 

“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.

“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop. 

“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again. 

Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything. 

You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes. 

“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.

“No!”

“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one. 

“I can do it myself!” 

You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged. 

Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest. 

“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.

Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss. 

He was good at it. 

No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself. 

“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.

You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop. 

God, he must be big. 

Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly? 

“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.

“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.

"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question. 

Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs. 

Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot. 

“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?” 

“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.” 

“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"

Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment. 

“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do. 

“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”

“Loosers.” 

“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”

“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.

“Okay.”

Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.

With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died. 

Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch. 

Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.” 

"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips. 

You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you. 

The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed. 

You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time. 

You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.” 

“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold. 

“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong. 

"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?" 

“I do.” 

Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips. 

Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs. 

Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer. 

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there. 

Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip. 

“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing. 

With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress. 

“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.  

“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails. 

“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time. 

“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues. 

When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside. 

He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life. 

Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could. 

“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.

“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away. 

“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”

“I want to cum. Let me, please.” 

“Good fucking girl.” 

Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder. 

You both felt how close you were. 

Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.

“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple. 

“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?” 

“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.

Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…

“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”

“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you. 

“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session. 

“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.” 

“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer. 

[hoshifighting]

WARNINGS: afab!reader, non-stabilished relationship, lots of alcohol, suggestive, university's games, competition, hangovers, being drunk, public-make out.

college fling!seungcheol just bc he looks so university's crush coded in today's show.

college fling!seungcheol that would stand there, hands on his hips, head tilted a little as he scanned you from head to toe when y'all got paired. “you sure about this?” he asked to the organizer of the games, voice full of doubt but eyes already sizing up jeonghan across the field, like that rivalry was the only thing keeping him in check. you just raised a brow, cocky grin pulling at your lips. “oh, don’t worry. i’ll carry us.” his laugh was quiet, disbelieving, but there was something about the way his lips twitched like he wasn’t ready to write you off completely.

fast forward a few games in and you’d completely turned the tables on him—like, when you knocked jeonghan’s smug ass out of dodgeball, the look on seungcheol’s face was priceless. you were really out here, dodging like your life depended on it. jeonghan’s out for blood, but you’re quicker. you hit him square in the chest, and his dramatic reaction has seungcheol laughing so hard he nearly doubles over. like, he blinked a few times and then that big, stupid grin just split across his face. he gave you this sideways glance, “i might’ve underestimated you.”

“yeah, no shit.”

so now, you’re stuck, tied leg to leg with him for this stupid-ass three-legged race. he’s got his arm slung around your waist, warm and firm like he’s not letting you trip up even once, and his breath is hot against your ear as he leans in. “you ready to win this?”

“you better keep up,” you shoot back, glancing up at him just to see that fire in his eyes, the same one you’d caught earlier when he was glaring daggers at jeonghan like the free beer wasn’t even the point anymore—it was just about beating him.

the whistle blows, and suddenly you’re off. at first, it's awkward as hell—legs all tangled and stumbling over each other “you gotta move faster,” he says, out of breath, too serious, like this whole thing isn’t ridiculous.

“maybe if you stopped dragging me like a sack of potatoes!”

“we’re not losing to him,” he mutters, eyes sharp like he’s got a personal vendetta against that flowing hair and smug smile.

and suddenly, you’re in it too, because if there’s one thing you hate more than this sweaty, chaotic mess, it’s losing to jeonghan.

“fine. let’s beat his ass.” maybe it’s the adrenaline or maybe it’s just seungcheol’s grip tightening around your waist, but you two start to move as one, hitting your stride, and you feel the wind whipping past your face as you dash ahead of the other pairs.

by the end of it, you’re both panting, chest heaving, but you’ve won.

later on, the soccer game, when you’re standing by the soccer field, he’s got this boyish smirk plastered on his face. “just cheer loud,” he calls out before jogging onto the field, glancing back every now and then, clearly waiting for your cheer. and yeah, maybe your voice is a little louder than it needs to be when you shout his name, but when you see the way his whole face lights up as soon as you do, it’s worth it. he says he’ll play better if you cheer for him, like your voice will magically give him superpowers.

he scores a few points and each time, without fail, he looks over at you, like he’s feeding off of it. like, your praise alone is fueling him more than anything else. after the game, all sweaty and breathless, he jogs over to you, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “told you i’d win.”

college fling!seungcheol that would be loud as hell when you’re out there, ready to crush the final game. it’s some chaotic water relay—like, they filled these huge tubs with water, gave y'all a bucket, and the goal was to fill up another container on the other side of the field. the buckets had holes in them, so you had to sprint before the water leaked out.

and seungcheol? this man was unhinged. standing right on the sidelines, practically losing his damn mind every time you bolted back with a half-full bucket. “FASTER, Y/N, COME ON! YOU GOT THIS!” it was like he’d forgotten that this wasn’t some life-or-death competition, just free beer for a year. other students were shooting him dirty looks, a couple even told him to shut up, but he didn’t give a single fuck. “LET’S GO, DON’T SLOW DOWN NOW!”

that's when he saw something different in you—like, something clicked in his head, especially when you wiped your face, water dripping down your legs, making those already too-short shorts stick to your thighs. his cheers stopped mid-scream for a second, eyes going wide as they raked over your legs. he blinked like he’d forgotten what he was supposed to be yelling, and for a moment, it was just him staring.

“shit,” he muttered under his breath, but then he snapped out of it just as quick, “COME ON, Y/N! LET’S GO! ONE MORE, YOU GOT THIS!”

the final lap, water sloshing everywhere, legs burning, and you sprinted across the field with that leaky-ass bucket. and when you dumped that last bit of water into the container, tipping it just right, you barely had time to catch your breath before seungcheol was on you.

he practically tackled you into a hug, soaked and laughing like a maniac. “WE DID IT! FREE BEER ALL YEAR!” he was yelling in your ear, spinning you around like you weren’t already dizzy from running your ass off. his hands slipped down to your waist again, fingers digging into your skin. the grin on his face was huge, like he was the one who won, not you.

“put me down, you big idiot,” you laughed, but honestly, you didn’t mind the way he held you up.

“not a chance,” he grinned, pressing his forehead to yours, still breathless. “you fuckin’ killed it. i knew you would.”

and then came the beer. someone from the staff tossed a cooler your way, cracking open a cold one, and before you could even take a sip, seungcheol snatched it out of your hand with this naughty look in his eye. “oh, nah, you’re not drinking that yet.”

“what—” but before you could even finish, he shook the bottle like a madman and sprayed it all over you, foam and liquid pouring down your face and chest, soaking your already-wet clothes even more. you gasped, but it was too late—you were drenched.

“cheol!” you screamed, reaching for another beer, ready to get him back. and that’s when it turned into this all-out beer fight, both of you laughing so hard your sides hurt, chasing each other around the field with bottles. students were cheering, joining in on the madness, but all you could focus on was seungcheol, hair wet and sticking to his forehead, eyes bright as he grabbed another bottle and aimed it right at you.

“this is for winning!” he shouted, dousing you again, the white beer's foam in the middle of your breasts through your sports top, and you retaliated, beer spilling all over his shirt, his jaw slack with a mock gasp.

“you’re gonna regret that,” he said, but his voice was soft, eyes flicking to your lips just for a second. you both froze, your chest heaving, his hands sliding to your waist again, beer dripping down your arms, clothes clinging to your bodies in the late summer sun.

“not if i do this first,” you whispered, grabbing his collar, and in one quick move, you kissed him.

your bodies slipped slightly, drenched in beer, but that didn’t stop you from pressing yourself tighter against seungcheol. his arm, still holding the half-empty bottle, looped around the back of your neck, drawing you in closer as his lips crushed against yours. his mouth was hot, wet, tasting like the beer he’d just sprayed all over you, and you felt the way his tongue dragged against yours, sucking at it slow and messy, like he was taking his time, savoring the taste of you. your fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling just enough to make him moan into your mouth.

you felt the cold bottle you were still holding press into his back as your bodies shifted. his free hand twitched, so close to your ass that you were almost sure he’d give in and grab it, but he paused. his fingers hovered just above your skin, twitching like he was fighting the urge. even though you could feel the heat between you two, that raw, hungry want, he knew where you were. middle of the field. right after the game. some people were definitely watching, but no one cared. honestly, stuff like this? it happened all the time after athletic games. it was almost tradition.

still, seungcheol held back. instead, he pulled back slightly, lips swollen, breathing hard against your mouth as his forehead rested against yours. “you’re making it real hard to be respectful right now,” he mumbled. the way he said it made you even wetter—not from the beer, not from the sweat, not from the water—and you let out a breathless laugh.

“who said i needed you to be respectful?” you teased, nipping at his bottom lip before finally letting go of his hair. his eyes flicked down to your lips, and his grip tightened, like he was fighting every instinct to just take you right there.

but then someone yelled, “get a room!” and seungcheol just grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked at you. “come on, let’s go celebrate this win properly.”

— // —

after a good bath and a quick nap, at night, you made it to the bar, it was packed. everyone from the games was there, still high off the adrenaline, beers already flowing, and the music was loud enough to shake the walls. seungcheol’s arm was around your shoulders as you walked in, pulling you close like he wasn’t about to let you get too far from him.

“you think we’ll ever have to pay for a drink again?” you asked, glancing up at him with a smirk.

“not after today,” he replied, flashing you that same cocky grin that made your stomach flip. “free beer for a year? we’re legends now.”

you found a spot at the bar, already surrounded by some of your friends, and before you knew it, you had drinks in your hands. shot after shot, and seungcheol was right there with you, matching you drink for drink. you lost track of how many times he leaned in close, voice low in your ear as he made some comment that had you laughing so hard your sides hurt. his hand never left your waist, and each time his thumb brushed the bare skin just under your shirt, it made you squirm.

at some point, seungcheol challenged you to a drinking game—one that neither of you had any business playing after the amount of alcohol you’d already consumed. “you’re gonna lose,” he slurred, eyes half-lidded as he leaned in close, face inches from yours.

“in your dreams,” you shot back, taking another shot just to prove a point.

you lost the game, obviously. seungcheol won with a shit-eating grin, and you were tipsy enough to let him pull you into his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist like you belonged there.

— // —

by the time you both stumbled out of the bar, the cool dawn brushed your skin. seungcheol’s arm was slung over your shoulders, both of you laughing about something you couldn’t even remember. the streets were quiet, the rest of campus dark except for the streetlights flickering above. you were both drunk, but in that good way where everything felt light and easy.

“you think we’re gonna regret this tomorrow?” you asked, glancing up at him with a smirk.

“probably,” he grinned, his voice slurred as he leaned in to press a sloppy kiss to your temple. “but who cares?”

the walk back to your dorms was full of teasing, bumping into each other as you tried to walk straight. every now and then, seungcheol would stop, grab your hand, and pull you into a kiss, laughing against your lips when you almost tripped over your own feet.

when you finally made it back, he didn’t let go of you. not when you fumbled with your keys, not when you stumbled into your room, not even when you both collapsed onto the bed, still fully dressed and reeking of beer. he pulled you into his chest, both of you too drunk and too tired to do anything else.

“you’re a mess,” you whispered, eyes half-closed as you curled into him.

“you smell like beer.” he mumbled against your neck.

— // —

monday's mornings comes way too fast, and the hangovers hit even harder. you woke up with your head pounding, still tangled up in the sheets with seungcheol’s arm draped over you. groaning, you tried to sit up, but the room spun, and you collapsed back onto the bed.

“never again,” you muttered.

seungcheol just chuckled, his voice raspy and rough. “we said that last time.”

you both spent the entire day nursing your hangovers, drinking water, and trying to piece together the night before. every now and then, seungcheol would nudge you, reminding you of something stupid you’d said or done, and you’d both break into fits of laughter despite the splitting headaches.

[sceletaflores]

A Different Kind of Compensation.

part two!

pairing: mike schmidt x fem!reader

prompt: you’ve been babysitting abby for mike nearly three months now. he constantly apologizes for not paying you yet, you constantly tell him it doesn't bother you. one night he comes back from his shift at freddy’s and has a different idea on how to compensate you for all of your hard work.

warnings: 18+, oral (fem receiving), vaginal fingering (kinda???), munch!mike.

word count: this was supposed to be a short dirty work that somehow turned into a 2.2k monster. told you i love to ramble.

authors note: remember when i said i might write smut if i was just so moved by an ask? well turns out my very first ask moved me. y'all are nasty, i love it. mike, of course, is a munch because why would he be anything else? i never, with a capital N, write smut so please bear with me if it sucks. i hope whoever requested this loves it! i wrote it instead of finishing my scientific article for bio so it better be decent hehe.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗ ╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

The sound of the front door opening followed by heavy footsteps woke you up from where you were dozing off on the couch. You gazed at the clock on the side table near you and sure enough, 6:10 blinked back at you. Mike was finally home. You heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, most likely shedding his work vest and hanging his keys on the little hook by the door.

You yawned, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you sat up on the couch. The blanket you used to cover yourself falling to pool around your waist. Mike finally made his way to the living room, sitting on the couch with a soft grunt. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice rough from lack of use. “Abby eat anything?”

“Yeah, a little,” You mutter back through a barely concealed yawn, head lolling to rest on the back of the couch. “You know how she is.”

He hums in acknowledgement but stays silent apart from that, keeping his gaze trained on the infomercial playing on TV. A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You sit up even further on the couch, leaning against the arm rest facing Mike. The blue/green hue of the TV bathed him in light, his hair was unruly with curls sticking out at awkward angles. He had deep bags under his eyes. Just as you thought about getting up to take off, he spoke up again. 

“I promise I’ll get you the money,” he says softly, not taking his eyes off the TV, “I…I just need some time.”

You scoff in mock annoyance, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Mike, you know I don’t care about the money. I don’t mind doing this for you.” You reply, nudging his knee with your foot softly then just leaving it perched on his lap.

Mike finally turns to look at you, there's a strange look on his face that you can’t quite place, but you give him a small smile all the same. He stares at you for a few beats, you can practically see the gears turning in his head. 

“You deserve something,” he whispers, his brows furrowed in frustration. “You do so much for me, it’s only fair.” As he speaks, he slowly moves his hand off the couch to your ankle still resting on his thigh, he starts rubbing slow circles over the skin there. His eyes never left yours as he touched you, a very obvious question in them. Asking if you wanted this.

Heat instantly rushed to your belly, cheeks turning a light shade of red at his touch. You’d always thought Mike was attractive, but you never would have imagined he’d want to be anything more than friends. Since he was already so busy with taking care of Abby and his hellish new job.

You swallow once before speaking, your throat feeling dry all of a sudden. “What are you suggesting?” You ask so softly, wondering if he even heard you. Mikes’ fingers stop in favor of trailing his hand up your calf in a featherlight touch, disappearing under the blanket to seek out more of your soft skin. Your heart is beating so fast you think you might die, the sound of it echoing in your ears loudly. 

Mike's big brown eyes stare into yours with a newfound intensity, visibly shocked that you're reacting so viscerally to his touch, his pupils are blown to hell. Chocolate brown being swallowed by black.  His tongue coming out to sweep over his top lip.

“How about you,” he says slowly, scooting closer to you on the small couch. He crowds into your personal space like he belongs there. Mike’s lips inches away from yours. He smells like old leather and dust from being cramped in the security office at Freddy’s. Your chest heaves as your eyes flit back and forth from his eyes to his lips. Seconds drag by like hours as you painstakingly wait for him to finish his sentence. “Stay right there while I make you feel good.” He finally says, his breath fanning over your face hotly. You can’t even speak, afraid of how desperate you might sound, just nodding your head roughly, not looking away from his hungry gaze.

Mike’s hand runs up your leg quickly after you give him the green-light, slipping further under the blanket and higher up your leg until he reaches his destination. He rubs you gently through your shorts, your breath hitches sharply at what should be just a simple touch, but you’re still so worked up from earlier that it feels ten times more extreme. You grasp the blanket still strewn over your lap tightly in your fists, it's the only thing keeping you from seeing Mike’s hand at work between your legs.

Mike reacts to touching you for the first time like he can feel it too. His breath stutters out of his chest, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your already wet folds through your thin cotton sleeping shorts. “Fuck.” He breathes out quietly, so quietly you doubt he even meant to say it out loud. He opens his eyes again, breathing slightly rougher as he stares at you through his arousal induced haze and heavy eyelids. 

Seeing your face must spur him on because he starts rubbing with more fervor than before, his clever fingers applying more pressure making you moan softly. You cut yourself off quickly, eyes darting down the hall to Abby's bedroom door. It's still closed, there's no light leaking through the crack between it and the floor.

"Shit, Mike." You whine quietly.

Mike groans softly at the sound of his name leaving your lips, body trembling slightly with the feeling. Suddenly he wrenches his hand out from under the blanket, and rips it off your lap frantically. You gasp sharply at the cool air breaking through the bubble of warmth the blanket provided, involuntarily closing your legs.

Mike pushes up from his position on the couch next to you, knee walking over so he's kneeling in-front of your clenched thighs. You're still slightly sprawled across the cushions, leaning on the arm of the couch.

"Do you know how crazy you make me?" He asks roughly, putting both his hands on your still closed knees. It takes a second for your brain to catch up to answer him, after a few moments you finally manage a faint shake of your head.

"No?" He asks, tilting his head to the left slightly. "Let me show you then."

Mike grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him, and leads your hand down into his lap. Your breath catches in your throat when he places your hand directly over his clothed erection, but it gets drowned out by Mike's louder whine thanks to you touching him for the first time. You drag your eyes downward, his dark grey sweatpants leave little to the imagination. He got more worked up touching you than you first thought, if the wet patch forming near the tip of his hard-on was anything to go by.

As soon as you started to rub him with purpose, Mike grabbed your wrist, halting your efforts. "No," He said breathlessly, practically panting. "No, this is for you tonight. Just wanna focus on you."

He let go of your wrist, turning his head in your direction. Both of you failed to realize how close you'd gotten when he dragged you to him. Your noses practically touch when he turns, catching you both off guard. His eyes travel down to your lips, staring at how red and puffy they'd gotten from you biting them to muffle your moans.

"How sweet of you, Mike." You whisper, leaning in just a tad closer. He lets out a guttural groan and closes the distance between your lips, claiming your mouth with his own. He leans forward, gently guiding you to lay back on the couch. His body completely covering yours as the two of you makeout, his arms on either side of your head and his hips slotting against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock against your cunt. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up to meet his.

Mike breaks the kiss with a whine, trying to muffle the noise by shoving his face in your neck. You bring your hands up to tangle in his curly hair, yanking it roughly as he starts littering kisses all along your collarbones. Nipping and sucking in-between his gasping little moans as you twist and pull his hair in your grip.

He tears his mouth away to stare up at you through his lashes, his lips are swollen and red. “Please,” He gasps out, his hips unconsciously grinding down into your thigh. “Let me eat you out. Please. Tell me I can, say I can.” He babbles, hips rutting faster every second you don’t answer him.

“Yes.” You exclaim as quietly as possible. “Do it, Mike. Eat me out.”

Mike’s whole body shudders at your words, eyes falling closed for a second before he quickly slides down your body, leaving an odd kiss here and there as he goes. He brings his hands up to grip the waistband of your shorts, pausing to take a single steadying breath, then he tugs them down along with your panties and tosses them aside. He stares down at you in awe for a good few moments before he lays on his stomach, right in front of your dripping cunt.

Mike kisses along the inside of your thighs for a bit, licking everywhere but where you want him to the most. “Thank you.” he mutters, tone way too earnest for the situation at hand but you don’t have much time to think about it before he’s diving face first into your thighs.

“Fuck!” You let your voice get way too loud in the quiet atmosphere of the house, but you can’t help it. You didn’t think Mike had lots of experience because of some late night drunken talks before, but he was either lying or holding out. He works his tongue expertly along every inch of you. Every swirl, flick, or suck has you catapulting to the edge way faster than you’d imagined.

It doesn't help that Mike keeps letting out these noises. Small needy whines or deep guttural groans that you can feel. He’s moaning like he’s the one getting head, unashamed and authentic. It’s so fucking sexy.

“Shit Mike, I’m close. I’m so close.” You whisper too quietly for him to hear with his head trapped between your thighs, but it doesn’t matter. Mike brings his thumb up to lightly circle your clit as he laps against your entrance, and you're gone.

Your thighs shake as you release, grabbing on Mike’s hair for dear life as you go through the most intense orgasm ever. He moans into your cunt, working you through the aftershocks. He laves his tongue along you until the overstimulation gets to be too much and you drag his face away by his hair.

He sits up, the bottom half of his face covered in spit and slick. That visual alone is almost enough to get you ready for round two. It’s silent except for the heavy breathing coming from you both.

After he catches his breath, Mike retrieves the blanket from behind his back somewhere to cover the lower half of your body. Your thighs are still shaking as he lays next to you, it’s a tight squeeze but neither of you seem to mind. He kisses the side of your face sweetly, throwing his arm around your waist to pull you in even closer.

You finally regain enough conscience to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off?” You ask, “I mean I can’t feel my legs but I’m sure we could think of something.” Mike only laughs quietly, shaking his head. “Maybe next time, this was about you.” He said, beginning to rub his fingers back and forth on your hip. “Plus I, uh, I already sort of…” He trails off, a flush forming on his cheeks.

It took you a second to realize what he was saying, but when it clicked you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your mouth. You lifted up the blanket covering the two of you, and sure enough Mike had an impressive wet patch seeping through his sweats.

He pinches your hip lightly, offended by your giggling. “Don’t laugh at me,” He complains with a smile, yanking the blanket back up. “I couldn’t help it.”

You stifle another laugh to the best of your ability, though your shoulders still shake ever so slightly. You turn your head to press a kiss to his lips. It’s different from the previous kisses you shared tonight. It’s slower and softer, full of a new emotion that you both feel, but know that it can wait to be talked about later. For now you’re both just basking in the afterglow.

You break the kiss first, pulling back only slightly to lean your forehead against his. You both smile at each other for a second.

“Okay,” You give in, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from his face. “But believe that tomorrow is all about you.”

[sleepynoons]

alhaitham x afab!f!reader, nsfw, 18+, not beta read

cw: omegaverse (alpha!alhaitham + omega!reader), heat, knotting, massive massive MASSIVE breeding kink, impregnation kink, size kink, slight sadism/masochism (more masochism if anything), mentions of pain + hurt, marking + biting, fingering, squirting, unintentional edging (receiving), allusions to dubcon + objectification (but none of it actually), slight nipple play, implied marathon sex

notes: sighs,,, idk how i ended up convincing myself to write omegaverse,,, but i really had a lot of fun with this,,, anyway, i love being an alhaitham fucker, and i love it even more when he loses it and can't be his usual put-together self. lmk if i missed anything in the warnings.

edit: 700+ notes?? y’all :((( i’m v touched and also cracking up lol omegaverse ig checks out - but tyssssm for all the love!! reminders that requests are still open (pls read my rules), and i’d love to have moots/anons!!!!

edit x2: 1,000+ notes... y'all... this is a massive milestone for me to hit - thank you so much for all the love on this lil drabble!! there's no amount of words that can describe how grateful i am, truly.

“ALHAITHAM, FASTER!”

you’re whining, sobbing, desperately begging your lover. anything will do – he can even just lie back and let you bounce up and down on his cock. but you’re only in such a frenzied, lucid state because of your heat. alhaitham, on the other hand, is a few weeks out from his next rut, which means he is able to think about what’s rationally best for you.

you’re infuriated. you need more. you need him to mount onto you, pounding and thrusting into you until you’re screaming for him to stop, and even then, he’ll continue to push you over the edge over and over again until you’re a sticky, fucked out doll. the fire in your belly is burning so passionately, and while you would say something snarky or sarcastic to rile alhaitham up, you can barely carry a thought and can only dig your fingernails into his biceps to convey your impatience.

your lover grunts at the piercing sensation and, through gritted teeth, says, “you just started your heat. rushing through it will only hurt you and lengthen your recovery process.”

you groan at his response, overtly dissatisfied and restless. alhaitham’s response is… it’s just so typical of him. he’s detail-oriented, almost scientific in the way he takes care of you. this isn’t your first heat with him, and he’s learned from prior experiences how to ensure your safety and comfort. in fact, the two of you now follow a procedure to prepare for your heat that consists of: gathering all of your favorite snacks and drinks; washing and prepping all of the pillows, clothes, and blankets you’ll need for your nest; and most importantly, figuring out a polite way of telling kaveh that he’s getting “sexiled.”

but this is overkill, you scream in your head. in missionary, alhaitham is going at a steady pace, but what he doesn’t know and can’t feel is that he’s edging you. he’s fanning the flames of your arousal yet never helping you reach the peak. he’s stimulating you at your most sensitive spots and parts, but it’s not enough for your release. he’s torturing you, and he can’t even tell.

“alhaitham,” you cry out for the nth time. “please, please, please! i can’t take it anymore! i just - i need your cock! i need to cum! please, please, i beg you, i promise you i’ll be fine! alhaitham!”

you’re breaking down into tears. by instinct, your body releases more of your scent, and somewhere beyond your crying, your lover takes a deep inhale.

while alhaitham isn’t in his rut, that doesn’t mean he can’t lose control. he hopes you know that he’s doing his best for you, that he’s holding onto the last shreds of his willpower because, if otherwise, he doesn’t know what will become of you. he’s so much bigger, stronger, sturdier than you are, towering over you in both size and strength. he can be painfully forceful, and inflicting pain upon you is the last thing he wants to do.

but you’re sobbing uncontrollably. you’re defenseless yet pleading him to take you roughly, to break in your pussy with his heavy, leaking cock. you want him to use his force to placate your insatiable heat. you need him to overpower you.

he releases a long, shuddering sigh. he attempts to rationalize, consider the potential repercussions of giving in. but he soon realizes he can’t think. your addicting, heady scent, combined with the beautiful sounds of your moans and whimpers, are rendering his mind empty.

it’s pointless. he growls, “you asked for this.”

one second you’re weeping, and the next all of the air inside you is knocked out by a sudden, harsh thrust from alhaitham. he’s going so fast and hard now, cock head brushing against your womb while his balls and knot slap against your asshole. you feel your toes curl at the feeling of being split apart, and your mouth parts to voice salacious moans.

this is what you wanted. you feel your body relax. you just have to take it, take his fat cock bullying your cunt open, take his harsh bites and teething at your nipples, take his seed until you’re filled to the brim. in your mind, all you can think is, you’re his, you’re alhaitham’s, he wants you. the omega in you croons happily, and you’re every bit as delighted as well.

alhaitham grips onto your wrists tightly as he shoves himself into your tight, sticky walls over and over again. at one point, he flips you over, commanding you to raise your ass up higher. as he holds onto your hips, he watches your ass bounce and jiggle as he pounds into you, and he wants to lick down the beautiful curve of your back. you’re doing your best to stifle your screams because somehow, your lover is reaching even deeper, and the scraping of your breasts against the bedsheets is driving you mad.

then, you feel one of alhaitham’s hands reach down, brushing against the fat of your thighs. it’s inching dangerously close to your throbbing clit, and heat rushes up to your face.

“wait, alhaitham, no –“ 

your lover pinches your yearning bud, and you scream. wetness gushing everywhere, you’re squirting and creaming, white cum staining your lover’s cock and leaking out of your pussy. your eyes roll back, and you’ve lost all ability to control your body, which is absolutely shaking as alhaitham continue to rub and flick at your clit as he tries to squeeze his knot into your fluttering hole.

“oh, archons! alhaitham! stop! no, no, it’s too much! it can’t fit!”

alhaitham, still teasing and toying with your pussy, leans over and snarls into your ear, “you were just saying you wanted more. now you can’t take it?”

you’re wailing. you feel as if you’re being ripped apart at the seams. but the thought of alhaitham’s knot is just too delicious to pass on, so you don’t complain anymore. you just accept the waves of pain and pleasure that crash over you as alhaitham finally locks his knot inside you and bites down on your neck.

your lover groans loudly, lost in his delirium as well. after a few more shallow grinds, he reaches his own high, and you feel rope after rope of his cum fill you up. alhaitham’s cum is so warm and gooey and thick that you’re drooling and slobbering over the pillows at being filled up so thoroughly – impregnated – with it.

even as he’s still cumming, alhaitham bites on the shell of your ear and commands, “keep up, because i’m not stopping anytime soon.”

you can only whimper and fist the blankets even tighter at his command, bracing yourself for the next round.