#Michael is just proving he’s THE GUY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

consistantscreaming · 1 year

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I'm relistening to The Magnus Archives, and I made a list of Actual Canonical Details we as a fandom forget about

- sasha gets coffee from a specific coffee shop every morning

- Jon has an excellent sense of direction

- canonically in artifact storage there is: a wardrobe light cannot penetrate, a carved rock eye that interferes with the video cameras and therefore is kept in a black velvet bag, and a scalpel ride with disease no matter what they use to sterilize it, kept in a hermetically sealed plastic box

- during halloween week, they have to call in the archives as backup due to the influx of statements. jon canonically gets a good nights sleep after disproving these statements.

- Jon sincerely believes he is far too unlucky for statements to just be a hallucination

- Not-sasha asked not to be recorded multiple times

- when told he benifited from gertrude's death, jons only response was "...I didn't?"

- [daisy became police in ~2002, almost 15 years before the story starts...meaning she is canonically late thirties/early 40s

- even when compared with the paranormal, daisy considers car accidents worse

- mary keay made an eye pun "i know the institute and i haven't always seen eye to eye, as it were"

- jon noticed when ghost hunt uk stopped updating

- sasha is taller than not-sasha

- annabelle dresses like a vintage clothing store exploded on her, has bleach blonde hair and dark skin

- annabelle looked "like the type of person that talked to cleaners as if they were actual people"

- annabelle looms over the cleaner by almost a full foot, meaning she Tall

- "the moment i die will feel just the same as this one" is not just a georgie thing, it's an End thing in general, as proved in ep 70

- not-sasha tends to stay late

- martin worked at the institute in 2009

- micheal has curly sandy blonde hair

-micheal is tall

- melanie and jon are on the same wavelength, and when working together they both came to the same conclusions with the same evidence

- elias does not think daisy is smart

- georgie is observant, and pays attention to peoples behavior

- melanie thought jon killing someone with a pipe was "wildly out of character" for him

- georgie and jon have a mutual friend named Jess who thinks Hungarian food is "too Soviet"

- jon borrowed georgie's coat when he went to meet jude perry

- jon tells jude to kill him as an ultimatum every five minutes

- elias tells tim that when presented with horrors, he finds comfort in beaurocrocy

- jared hopworth is handsome with cheekbones and a jawline to die for

- georgie was canonically willing to cover for jon to the police with no context after an unpleasant breakup and after no contact for almost 5 years

- georgie grew up poor in liverpool, and had a scouse accent until she went to oxford

- basira is a huge nerd and will talk about what she's reading to anyone who will listen

- nikola makes an allusion to not having a face

- martin and melanie got along fantastically

- georgie told jon that he needs anchors

- "if something happened to you, or-or god forbid, The Admiral, I-"

- "Don't be a Stranger." georgie thinks she's funny

- michael had a childhood friend who was taken by something like michael (schizophrenic) and that's what drove him to the magnus institut-he never you over what he saw or didn't see

- Hannah is a black woman who works in the library, had a "Thing With The Milk In The Breakroom" in april 2016. Went on maternal leave to have a baby in June of 2017.

- elias enjoys scheduling

- martin zones out when he has to read a statement, and often takes little notice of his surroundings when doing so/about to do so

- martin was looking for a book called "marvelous spiritualism and the circus in tge 19th century" and a guy named tom said tim had it checked out

- danny and tim didn't talk much, but were still close

- Abigail Ellison-who tim calls abby- is a mutual friend of tim and danny's from "back home"

- tim shipped danny and abby

- out of the two of them, danny was more assertive and tim "had never been able to stand in the way of his confidence"

- tim has a big armchair, a printer, and a couch

- melanie has made everyone in the archives cry

- [basira loved wtg until it "took a weird turn in season 3" when they introduced something she thought was odd

- melanie, basira, and martin used to go out for drinks, and martin and basira were gossip buddies

- Melanie's dad had dementia relatively young, but he always remembered her. He called her "Little Moth", and her mothers life insurance helped pay for him to be put into Ivy Meadows Care Home-where he was killed by the Corruption at the hands of John Amherst before Julia and Trevor burnt it down.

- julia is in her early thirties and wears nondescript hard wearing denim

- jon thought that reading statements could be a classical addiction, but decided that even if it was he had no time to, as he put it, "experiment"

- Peter was surprised that elias killed people kimself-implying elias has people to do murders for him. what other murders did he commission

- martin and basira both noticed something wrong with melanie after the Elias Incidint when her work started to deteriorate-martin said she'd always been "quite conscientious"

- right after being told by basira that standing by with a cup of tea wasnt enough, when melanie entered the room Martin immediately offered her a cup of tea.

- Martin knocked over a stack of papers and defended himself by saying that they shouldn't have been there. the absolute madlad

- after micheal stabbed jon, jon told martin he stabbed himself with a bread knife; and martin then proceeded to A) believe him and B) not trust him with anything sharp after that

- Gerry didn't care abt what happened in the unknowing bc he's a book. jon asked if he was serious. Gerry responded that he was, in fact, dead serious.

- gerry teases jon by saying he doesn't know anything before rescinding that statement avd giving the vaguest hint possible. he's such a dickhead i love him

- gerard didn't trust gertrude-he wanted to, but she reminded him of his mother

- gerard called trevor and julia "the van helsings"

- gerry was jealous of lietner bc his mom paid so much attention to them

- mary haunted gerard for 5 years before gertrude destroyed her, and gerry cried with relief when gertrude gave him back the destroyed book

- before the unknowing, daisy was running around killing mannequins and other Strangers

- tim didn't think they would be able to stope the unknowing

- jon would rather have tim where he could see him-which is why he let tim come (guilt guilt guilt guilt GUILT GUILT GUIL GU

- basiras dad couldn't stand people who passively whined about their problems. he always said "If you don't like something, you accept it and you adapt, or you fight, and you change it. Whining doesn't help."

- Melanie was depressed before the unknowing

- jon rambles about his latest insights and melanie wants to punch him.

- martin: "it felt good, weaving my own little web." "Also, i get to burn some stuff, so that's cool"

- basira was the one to suggest that they not tell Melanie they were doing surgery

-Daisy made jon listen to the Archers. "I hate it. but it feels... good, to hate something that can't hurt me"

#the magnus archives #magnuspod #tma #jon sims tma #martin blackwood tma #basira hussain #alice daisy tonner #melanie king #georgie barker #sasha james #not sasha #tim stoker

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welcometowhore-rrorville · 10 months

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I AM LIVING FOR YOUR SLASHER HEADCANONS, esp the last post!! but i have a question: what do you think michael would do if the next time he wants to fuck, they’re like “nope, don’t want to, you didn’t make me cum” and is generally just provoking him and saying shit like “i can just find someone that CAN satisfy me” and other dumb shit. would he not care?? get jealous? knife through the door?? so many possibilities

Thank you thank you!!! <3

𝒞𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐹𝑜𝓇

Featuring: Michael Myers

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: oral sex, fingering, rough sex, overstimulation, general nsfw things, mdni, i got carried away, unedited because I didn't think i'd write this much

As for your question(s):

I think it definitely depends on how long you've known him. The only way he'd give a flying fuck about what you think is if he was down bad. Especially if we're talking about the OG Michael. RZ Michael is easier to convince to actually give a shit what you want in bed, but it's still not a priority for him. Still, there are certain personality traits you can exploit to get what you want. . .

When you first brought up that you were unsatisfied in bed, it was a very soft comment after he was done and zipping his jumpsuit back up.

"I didn't even cum. . ." you mumbled, staring at your bare abdomen and leaking cunt. It was all him. You didn't even have the chance to pleasure yourself; it was too difficult with him constantly flipping you over and manhandling you. Your body was sore and bruised, but you laid there, discontent.

You moved your gaze to look at his masked face. Judging by the way he stopped his movements, he'd heard you. You bit your lip, turning your eyes away and down to your hands which fiddled with each other. You knew he didn't care, but it would be nice if he did.

"Just get out, okay?" you spoke, embarrassed and a little angry. "I'll just get myself off since you can't seem to do it."

Your tone had him walking around to the side of the bed, grabbing his discarded knife from the nightstand. You flinched, but didn't bother to run. If he wanted to kill you, he would have already.

Just as you figured, he turned back around, trudging out of your bedroom with the blade in his grip. You rolled your eyes. You were half tempted to call up and old friend of yours for a night, but realized that might end in bloodshed. Michael was much too possessive for that.

Suddenly, an idea crossed your mind. You knew Michael was selfish, but he also always had something to prove. He wanted to, no, needed to be the best at everything. Nobody could escape, outrun, or hide from him, and he knew that. So what if. . .

It was a few days later when he came back, heavy footsteps on your porch alerting you. Still, you pretended not to notice, phone up to your ear as you chatted. You were leaned against the kitchen counter, occasionally popping some popcorn into your mouth.

The door to your house creaked open before shutting again. You paid no mind.

"Go out? Ha," you spoke, fingers moving around a stray popcorn kernel absentmindedly. "If I want to get drunk, I'll do it in my own home, thank you very much."

At this point, he was looming in the kitchen doorway, but you didn't even bother with a glance.

"Oh, go out to meet someone, huh? Yeah, I guess that would be nice. . . I mean sure, there's a guy that stops by, but I'd be lying if I said I was satisfied." You leaned against your fridge, his massive form still lingering just a few feet away.

"It's just. . . other people I've been with have gotten me off four, five times a night, but this guy? Not once. Yeah. You heard me. Not once."

You made sure to emphasize that last phrase. You knew the dangerous game you were playing, but you didn't care. "Talk to him? Girl, I've tried. He's like a brick wall. Doesn't even say goodbye. As soon as he's done he's out the door. Rude? Tell me about it. Sure, I've had better, but he always keeps crawling back looking like a kicked puppy. I just kind of feel sorry for him."

You didn't have time to speak again before the phone was ripped from your grasp and tossed carelessly across the kitchen, plastic pieces shattering across the tile.

One hand wrapped around your throat while the other rested just beside your head, almost denting your poor fridge with the force. The choke was painful but not deadly, and you locked eyes with the culprit, staring intently.

He pulled you against him before slamming you back against the fridge, and you winced at the sudden force. "What's wrong with you?" you sputtered out, your hands trying to fight the grip on your throat.

He glanced at the destroyed phone, and you had to stifle a smirk from appearing on your lips.

With another slam, he finally released his hand from your neck, and you took in a few shaky breaths. Still, he loomed close enough to leave you pressed against him.

"You're angry," you spoke, rubbing the marks forming on your neck. "I assumed Michael Myers never got angry."

He looked to the shattered telephone again before looking back at you. He wanted an explanation.

"What do you want me to say? It's true. And I'm pissed about it. All you ever do is use me then leave. I haven't had a proper orgasm in weeks!" You pushed your hands against his chest angrily, but he didn't budge. "I know you're not a good man, but it still isn't fair. I can't even call anyone because you'll have a knife through their neck before they can get their pants off."

He let out a breath, both hands finding purchase on your hips. "Now's not the time," you huffed, moving to push his hands away. His grip tightened. You headbutted his chest, forehead resting against the rough material of his jumpsuit. How could he be raring to go at a time like this? "Unless you've got anything planned for me tonight, I'm not interested."

He didn't falter. You looked back up to try and read his face through his mask. It did not work. You could tell he was. . . different than usual, but he was probably still pissed off from your words over the phone.

His fingers nestled behind the waistband of your shorts, and in one fell swoop they dropped to the floor. You stayed silent. He never had the decency to take your clothes off. It was always ripped or sliced, and there was never any time taken. Hell, he'd never taken your shorts off without your underwear going with.

You stifled a laugh. Was he actually. . . trying?

He slid a knee between your thighs, pinning you. One hand explored your upper half, sliding under your shirt until he hit your bra. His other hand travelled downwards, slipping underneath your panties. You felt a rough digit slide against your clit and let out a sudden breath. Quickly, he backtracked, moving back up until he found that same spot.

You had to bite your lip to prevent a gasp from leaving it. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been stimulated there. It was suddenly all too-sensitive.

Two fingers caught the small nub, and you had to grip his shoulders to prevent yourself from falling. The digits toyed with it, squeezing and brushing like he was testing something. Your forehead pressed against his chest as heavy breaths left you.

One hand worked at massaging your chest, running a thumb against your nipple, while the other played with your clit harshly. You didn't expect him to be gentle in the slightest, but it still had you shimmying your hips in discomfort. It's not that you weren't aroused, and in fact, you were all too turned on. He'd never shown any interest in any part of you besides your cunt and mouth, and even then it was only to slide his dick into. This? This was all new. This feeling of rough hands overtaking your body, touching your skin, pleasuring you for the first time. . .

You pushed your hips forwards, trying to gain friction. With any luck, you could actually get off tonight.

Suddenly, all hands were off of you and he stepped back, tilting his head.

You rushed to hold yourself up, knees wobbly. You shot daggers at him, eyes burning. He stopped. Why the fuck did he stop?

He stared at you, waiting for something. You crossed your arms over your chest, looking as put-together as you could with wetness creeping down your thighs and shorts discarded on the floor.

"I'm not apologizing, if that's what you want," you muttered. "Congratulations, you found the clit. Took you long enough. You'll have to work a little harder if you're looking to clear your name."

In a flash, he had you hauled over his shoulder, and you let out a gasp of surprise. You could only sigh as he took you to your destination.

You were dropped onto your bed, legs dangling off the front as he pushed you down into the mattress. You cocked a brow.

In an event you'd never thought would happen, he kneeled down in front of you, hands spreading your thighs apart. Was this a dream? You were in shock. There's no way he was going to. . .

You were pulled out of your thoughts when your panties were slid down your legs and tossed aside. It didn't take long before one hand was back between your legs, rubbing your clit as the other pressed against your stomach to keep you in place. You couldn't move your thighs which were locked apart, blocked by his shoulders.

You couldn't sit up with the way he had you pinned, and so stared at the ceiling, hands gripping the sheets.

A new sensation startled you, and you tried desperately to sit up enough to see, but it was no use.

It was his tongue, dragging up your folds until he reached your clit. He took the nub in his mouth, and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to prevent the noise that threatened to come out.

That old and familiar feeling built within you, like a spring coiling and coiling, ready to snap. Your mind went blank as a tension built within you. It was like everything but your cunt was numb. There, feeling was in overdrive. Every swipe of his tongue, every prod of his fingers inside of you, swiping forward to push against your favorite spot: it was too much.

You came with a breathless gasp, back arched as your hands dug into the sheets. Even without seeing, you knew your cunt was a mess. You could feel your cum seeping out. You could smell the scent of sex in the room. Your thighs shook, pussy clenching around nothing.

You expected him to pull back, but instead you felt his tongue licking at your cunt, swiping up any spill into his mouth. You let out a whine as he prodded inside, tongue lapping up your wetness.

Digits were back to circling your clit, and you moaned, still much too sensitive. Despite this, he had no intentions of stopping, instead switching out his fingers for his mouth as he thrust a finger inside of you. You had no time to process before another joined the first. Your head pressed desperately against your bedsheets.

"Slow down," you gasped, voice shaking. He didn't heed your words, and in fact, sped up the way his fingers pushed in and out of you. You whined. The tension was already back and ready to snap within you.

"Michael," you cried, eyes clenched shut. "Please!" You weren't sure what you were pleading for.

You came again, more violently than the last. Over and over your cunt pulsed, leaking your cum to pool at your enterance, only to be pushed back in with the shove of his fingers.

"Okay! Okay! You win!" you panted, wiping the sweat from your face.

When he still showed no signs of letting up, all you could do was let out a weak groan. You got what you desired, you supposed. But it seemed he found something he liked as well.

All this because you decided to talk a little shit about him. You didn't dare tell him there was nobody on the other line.

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rfxiii · 5 months

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could I request hcs for franklin, trevor, and michael on how they would go about apologizing or making it up to you after they did something wrong (I feel like I'm not making sense lol 😆 but basically I'm asking how would they get back on your good side after messing up big time) if requests are close, I apologize!!

(This totally makes sense, no worries! And my requests are always open, so feel free to send an ask whenever you’d like- I’m just a little slow atm. Also, I’m sorry about the long wait, and I hope you like it ☺️)

Franklin, Trevor, and Michael making up with you after an argument:

Franklin Clinton:

Arguments with Franklin are fairly rare. He’s a pretty level headed, loyal partner. But, like every relationship, arguments do happen.

Despite being kind, loyal, and loving, Franklin is also stubborn. It can be the cause of several of your arguments. And can also lead to him refusing to admit he’s wrong right away.

But once he does realize he’s been wrong, and understands that he’s upset you, he’ll go to the ends of the earth to make it up to you.

He’ll come to you like a sad puppy- curling up beside and gently taking your hands in his. He’s had time to think about what went wrong, and what was done to start the argument to begin with. He wants to talk it over, wants to get to the root of the problem to make sure it never happens again. He’ll stay up all night talking with you, and apologizing, until he’s sure everything is resolved and that you’ve forgiven him.

He may buy you something small and sweet the day after the fight. A teddy bear or a bouquet of roses aren’t uncommon after the two of you have had a disagreement. And for a few days afterwards, he treats you especially gently. He hates hurting your feelings or making you mad. So, he wants to prove just how much he does love you. Even if you two do argue.

Trevor Philips:

Arguments with Trevor are fairly commonplace. He’s set in his insane ways, and always self assured that he’s right. He’s more apt to listen to reason when it comes to you. But his erratic, wild behavior, and bad, dangerous habits are normally the root of arguments between you two.

There are several ways things can go after you two argue. But more often than not, it’s a couple days of passive aggressive comments and the silent treatment, until he’s convinced that this is the fight that’s going to split you guys apart. And then comes the waterworks.

He comes, literally, crawling back to you on his hands and knees, sobbing and snot nosed as he begs you not to leave him. He’s usually fairly high when he breaks down like this, so talking to him is slightly difficult. But he babbles at you non stop- telling you how much he loves you, how sorry he is, how he’s “such a worthless shit”.

The true talking it out usually comes the next morning, or afternoon, depending on how fucked up he got. But after his tears dry up and he’s caught his breath from all the sobbing, his usual method of making up with you is desperate, clingy sex. He doesn’t have a very good grasp on such big emotions, so he shows them physically instead of verbally. And you can feel his love and remorse through every press of his lips and every touch of his rough, scarred hands.

Michael De Santa:

He has issues with loyalty and honesty. You knew that before you got with him. But it doesn’t make the arguments that ensure because of it any easier.

He’s stubborn, self assured, and hot headed. Getting Michael to admit he’s wrong is like pulling teeth. And getting him to apologize is harder than winning a one man war. Once you two start to fight, it can last for days. And because of his petty, passive aggressive attitude, he sometimes tends to make things twice as bad.

It’s almost never that you hear him actually say “I’m sorry”. But eventually, after a few days of fighting, he realizes he’s being a child and understands that he was wrong. Even if he won’t admit it. So, he shows it the best way he knows how. Through gifts.

You’ll come home to find expensive jewelry on your pillow, or a new outfit hung up for you in the closet. He’ll have your favorite dinner made, and he’ll buy the wine he knows you like the best. He won’t apologize to you. But over dinner, he’ll take your hand, tell you how beautiful you look, and say something like “Let’s not fight anymore, angel. You know I hate seeing you upset.”

You know he’s too prideful to apologize. So, usually it’s just easier to cut your losses and accept that, while he’ll never verbally apologize, this is his version of saying “I’m sorry”. You know he truly is apologetic, and you love him, so you both agree to let this go and move on. He’s a good man, he’s just a little emotionally immature at times.

#gta v #gta 5 #grand theft auto v #grand theft auto 5 #trevor philips #michael de santa #franklin clinton #gta x reader #x reader #/reader #franklin clinton x reader #franklin clinton/reader #trevor philips x reader #trevor philips/reader #michael de santa x reader #michael de santa/reader

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stop-talking · 2 months

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You're his ex, but he's desperate for a babysitter. (pt. 1)

Mike Schmidt x fem reader

2.5k words

Tags: 18+, mike x reader, no use of y/n, exes, enemies, enemies to lovers, slowburn? sassy mike, sassy reader, pet names, banter, angst, so much angst, flashing mike, fluff, spending time with Abby (because everyone always forgets her??)

Part 2

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Mike holds his breath as the phone rings. He's already gone down the mental checklist of people who he could possibly call for help right now, and is currently scraping the bottom of the goddamn barrel.

*click* "Hello?"

He speaks hurriedly into the dingy landline phone, praying you won't immediately dismiss him.

"Hey, it's Mike. Please don't hang up."

You're tempted to hang up on him then and there, just to prove a point. You guys broke up nearly a year ago, and hadn't spoken in... what, six months now? But the tone in his voice... he sounded desperate.

"What, drunk and lonely again?" You scoff, unable to resist taking a jab at him. You two hadn't exactly ended things on good terms, his lack-of-sleep induced grumpiness and general unpleasant disposition making it hard for him to take criticism without it turning into an argument. It wasn't your fault he never made time for you. It wasn't your fault he was so emotionally unavailable.

"No." He grits his teeth, already regretting calling you. "I need a favor. Please." He chokes the word out, his stomach in knots from having to resort to this.

You pause for a few moments, chewing on his words. It must really be serious if he'd called you, after all the things you'd said to him last time you spoke.

"Well... lets hear it, then."

"I need you to watch Abby tonight. My usual babysitter isn't answering the damn phone, and I have to leave for work in an hour. I can't leave Abby home alone. I just can't."

In an hour? You glance at the clock, it's already 8:30. What ungodly hours is he working?

"I thought you didn't work nights? I swear to god, Schmidt, if you're making me watch her so you can go get laid-"

"No. Nothing like that. I swear." He sighs, sounding genuinely exhausted. "I'm working as a security guard these days. Night gig. Long story. It sucks ass, but I need this job. Can you watch Abby? I'll owe you one."

You bite back the urge to scoff at him. He's not even going to pay you? Figures. Oh well. Holding a favor over his head might be fun.

"Ugh. Fine. I'll see. What time will you get back? I have work in the morning."

"6:15. Maybe 6:10, if I drive like a maniac."

"Shit. I'll have to get ready for work at your place. If I go home first I'll be late."

"Yeah, sure. Anything. Just please stay with Abby. She goes to sleep at 10, you can crash on the couch. I just want someone in the house with her."

You let out an audible sigh. Are you seriously going to go crash on your shitty ex-boyfriend's shitty couch on a work night?

...Yeah, yeah you are.

"Damn it, Mike. You'd better kiss my fucking feet when I get there."

Mike almost laughs at that. Almost.

"Sure thing, Princess." He cant help but taunt you a bit, using an old pet name he used to call you way back when you were dating. It probably wasn't the best decision to irritate the last person he could rely on, but he wasn't in the right headspace to make good decisions right now. These days, he mostly runs off of coffee and self-hatred.

"I'll be there in 30. You'd better be on your knees and groveling when you open the door." You slam the phone down before he can answer. Michael fucking Schmidt. Still the same jackass you broke up with all those months ago.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

When Mike opens the door to greet you almost exactly 30 minutes later, he reluctantly drops to his knees. He'd hoped you'd forgotten the silly request, but the unamused look you gave him said otherwise.

"Fucking witch." He grumbles, hanging his head as you brush past him into the house. Were you wearing... pajama pants? He stares at you as you set down your things, a purse and what looks like an overnight bag of some sort.

"Stop gaping. And stand up. You look pathetic." You shrug off your coat, revealing an old t-shirt underneath. Yeah, you were in pajamas, so what? Its late. And you couldn't be bothered to put in extra effort for Mike, of all people.

"Excuse me for doing as her majesty commands." He groans and stands up, brushing himself off. As if that'll make him look any more presentable.

Abby tentatively pokes her head out of her room, watching you and Mike argue. Shit. Did she hear all that?

"Hey Abbs." You wave to her, deciding to ignore Mike's comment. "It's gonna be just me and you tonight, sound good?"

She looks to Mike for approval, who nods and gives her a tired smile. The only kind of smile he's been able to muster lately.

"...Will you play with me?"

"Yeah, 'course I will. Let me have a chat with your brother real quick." She seems to accept that answer, closing herself back off in her room. You sigh and follow Mike into the kitchen.

"There's leftovers in the fridge, and a lasagna in the freezer. Probably have something edible in the pantry. I think there's popcorn." He explains, pointing out a few different measly options for a quick meal. "Look, she probably won't, but just try and get her to eat dinner."

You watch him lean back against the counter and rub at his temples. God damn, he looks... exhausted. His hair has grown out a bit since you last saw him, dark brown curls hanging low over his forehead. His eye bags seem to hang even lower.

"Yeah... I'll try and get her to eat."

An uncomfortable silence lingers in the air as you both run out of things to talk about, so he fills the void with an insult.

"You really had to come over in that?" Mike scoffs and gestures at your frumpy t-shirt and pajama pants.

"What? Were you hoping for something slutty?" You cross your arms and give him a smug look.

He turns his head, unsure what to say to that. Maybe part of him did hope to see you dressed in something a little more revealing. Or maybe just undressed. God damn it, was he blushing?

"Fuck you." He mutters, making his way to the entryway and slipping his shoes on.

"No thanks. Been there, done that." You respond dismissively, watching him leave with a smirk.

Mike slams the door on his way out. Not hard enough to startle Abby, hopefully, but hard enough to make a point he's not in the mood to play your little games. Still, the whole drive to work, he can't help but wonder what if...? What if you had never broken up with him? What if he had been a better boyfriend? A better provider for you and Abby? A better man?

"I fucking hate her." He grumbles, but the words are hollow.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"Mike told me you stopped coming over because he found out you're a witch and you curse children. Is that true?" Abby finally musters up the courage to ask the question that's been on her mind ever since you walked through the door.

"Did he say that?" You chuckle, a little shocked that this is what she chose to ask after ten minutes or so of silently coloring together.

"Yeah. He said you cursed him, too. And that's why he can't color anymore. He'll explode, or something." She babbles, not looking up from her paper.

"Hmm... well, if you're really worried about your brother, I'll cut you a deal." You do your best to keep the anger from your tone as you continue to color beside her at the table. That asshole doesn't color with Abby anymore?

"...What kind of deal?"

"I'll lift the curse on your brother so he can color and draw again... but you have to eat dinner. Ten whole bites."

Abby seems to consider this for a moment, turning and eyeing you suspiciously. Mike likes to mess with her like this. Were you messing with her too? Probably. But, well, if it would make Mike spend time with her again...

"Fine. What do we have?"

You smile at her. This babysitting stuff is a breeze.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

When Mike stumbles in the door the next morning, he spots you fast asleep on the couch. He flops down in the recliner and just watches you sleep for a minute or two. You look so pretty when you're asleep. Serene. Peaceful. Not at all like when you're awake, giving him that attitude he's so familiar with. He sighs and makes his way over to the couch, knowing he should probably wake you for work.

"Uhh... wakey wakey?" He mumbles lamely, unsure what to really say. Definitely not good morning, beautiful. He scoffs to himself at the thought.

"Mmm... Mike?" You blink up at the man gently shaking your shoulder, your eyes adjusting to the morning light.

"Yeah. Who else would it be?" He shakes his head in amusement and goes back to sit in the recliner.

"I dunno. A hookup?" You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes, then stretch out.

"A hookup? Still being passed around, then?" He responds with a scoff, trying to hide just how much that answer bothers him. Even after nearly a year of being broken up, he doesn't like to imagine you with other men. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, even if he's not into you anymore. Actually, you don't look half-bad right now, stretching your arms over your head like that...

"Can you blame a girl? Had to make up for all the unsatisfying nights with you."

Mike reeled at that little quip. The smug look on your face, god... He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to shut you up with a kiss or a punch.

"Just fucking go home." Nice one, Mike. That'll show her.

"Hey, you agreed I could get ready here. I'm gonna go use your shower, and then I have something to talk to you about."

Something to talk to him about? He scowls as you walk off towards his bedroom. Why couldn't you just leave him alone? Why did everything have to be so complicated? He groans and goes to lie down in bed. Maybe he could get in a quick nap while you shower. Maybe.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You emerge from the dingy bathroom connected to Mike's bedroom fifteen minutes or so later, steam trailing in behind you.

"Three-in-one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash? Seriously, Schmidt?" You scold him, crossing your arms as you stand before his bed wearing nothing but a towel. At first, he seems annoyed when you pull him out of his brooding, but when he takes in your current state of undress, he sputters.

"S-so? Its economical." He scoffs, irritated, but unable to look away as you make your way around his bed and out the door.

You return a minute later carrying your overnight bag. "Forgot my clothes." Mike just nods, still unable to tear his eyes from you.

"Stop staring."

"Stop waltzing through my room naked."

"This isn't naked." You gesture to the towel wrapped around your body, drawing his attention back to you.

"This is naked."

Mike watches in complete shock as you let the towel fall to the floor, completely baring yourself to him for a few moments before finally locking yourself in his bathroom. You hear him mutter a few curses on the other side of the door, and smile as you get changed.

"Was that really necessary?" Mike scowls at you when you emerge from his bathroom a few minutes later, now fully dressed.

"Calm down, Mikey. Not like you haven't seen it all before." The old nickname you used to call him by doesn't sound endearing anymore. It sounds taunting. Mike looks like he cant decide between kicking you out of the house or pulling you into his bed. Good to know you can still get under his skin. And maybe his bedsheets, if you wanted.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" He finally asks, sighing in defeat.

"C'mon. I'll tell you."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Mike sits in the recliner, watching you set up a bunch of unnecessary crap on his coffee table. Did you really have to do your makeup right in front of him?

"A witch, Mike? Seriously? You told her I'm a witch, and then left her alone with me for the night?"

Mike swallows. Shit. He honestly forgot about that, it was just some lame excuse he came up with right after the breakup back when he was still distraught.

"Am I wrong?" He tries to brush it off with a sassy comment, but folds when he sees your intense glare.

"I mean... uh... I'll tell her you're... not a witch..." Real smooth, Schmidt. Mumble and stare at the floor.

"It's not even about that, really. Feed her all the lies you want. What I'm upset about is that she told me you don't color with her anymore."

Mike finally meets your eyes as you apply yet another random powder he doesn't understand the purpose of to your cheeks with the swipe of a brush.

"I'm busy. And it's none of your business. I asked you to come be her babysitter, not her mom." He snarls, hands clenched into fists.

"I'm not trying to be. It just breaks my heart to hear that stuff from her, Mike. I told her I'd lift the 'curse' off of you if she ate her dinner, and she did. So consider yourself un-cursed."

Mike grits his teeth as you put air quotes around the word "curse". He knew you were right, and that bothered him more than the fact he was being a shitty brother. The worst part was, you weren't even being snarky, you just sounded genuinely concerned for Abby. God damn it.

"...Yeah. Fine. Un-cursed. Got it." He grumbles in agreement as you finish up your makeup and swipe the assortment of products into your purse.

"How do I look?"

He wanted to tell you that you looked gorgeous, that he missed having you around, attitude or not. But in this moment, he couldn't do it. He was too tired. Too angry.

"Like a whore."

"Someone's jealous he doesn't get any."

"Like I'd want you."

"Oh yeah, the raging boner you had earlier when you saw me in a towel was because you don't want me. Totally."

Oh, now you're just taunting him.

"I'll have you know that didn't happen till after you lost the towel." Mike scoffs as he follows you to the entryway, unlocking the door for you while you slip on your shoes.

"Don't lie to me, Mikey."

"I'd never dream of it, Princess."

Mike has to resist the urge to pull you into his arms as you leave for work. Maybe if you didn't look so goddamn smug, he would. Instead he just shuts the door and locks it, hating himself for how much he enjoyed this whole interaction.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

will probably write a part 2 (with smut??)

edit: here is part 2

(no smut. part 3 tho...??)

idk this was my first fanfic ever so enjoy

#josh hutcherson #mikeschmidt #mike schmidt #fnaf movie #fnafmovie #mike schmidt fluff #josh hutcherson x reader #jhutch #mike x reader #no use of y/n #fnaf fic

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blasphemecel · 1 month

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Michael Kaiser, Shidou Ryuusei — Red

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader, Shidou Ryuusei/Reader WORD COUNT: 1.5k TYPE: Humor, Bad Flirting, Petty argument WARNING(S): tw Kaiser, tw Shidou

Kaiser is maybe pissed off or developing chronic depression (or uncovering a long going, underlying mental health issue).

Well, not to be overdramatic, but his life has fucking sucked ever since he came to this wretched place they call ‘Blue Lock’!

More like stupid shit lock, but he wouldn’t be caught dead saying something this immature out loud. Yoichi scored one more goal than he did — an entire goal, one of it, in surplus that is — and made a fool of him. Now Kaiser is spiraling and wanting to prove himself like a loser, when he’s the one who’s supposed to make others feel this way.

What is happening right now, in front of his very eyes, is egregious torture. Cinnamon to sauté the pear of anguish in.

He went looking for you in an only slightly creepy stalkerish way, which he already wasn’t happy about, since he had to walk around this soulless building and see too much of it at once. And when he finally finds you in one of the few communal spaces (gross, by the way), what are you doing? Betraying him by talking to Sae’s pink pervert and laughing. Your audacity to have fun while Kaiser is suffering is insolent. Ness should give you a yellow card for that.

Even if it’s below him, Kaiser can prove himself, though, both on the field and when it comes to strange rivalries with questionable undertones. He is better and more deserving of all attention, including yours, and he’s going to show you. He’s going to show you so hard, you’ll regret your ignorance so much that you’ll drop out of here and go back to school or whatever the fuck.

With this objective in mind, he reminds himself to act natural and walks up to you. In fact, Kaiser is confident no one has acted this natural before.

“Hi,” he says in an unnecessarily firm tone, with the most forced smile of all time. Maybe he should’ve come up with something before interrupting your conversation, now that he thinks about it.

Your heads snap in his direction at the same time with a weird synchrony. “Hi,” Shidou mocks, imitating Kaiser’s expression, going as far as to suck in his lips to make it seem more exaggerated and stupid.

Somehow, this situation strikes you as awkward, so you settle for staring at him expectantly. He probably had a reason to approach you, right?

“How… are you… doing?” Kaiser asks, ignoring the bug in favor of swinging an arm around your shoulder and leaning in way too close to your face. This is mostly an action meant to distract you from how strange he is acting. The only language he is proficient in is shit talking, so now he finds himself at a loss for words.

Shidou, however, is adept at smelling weakness. Without thinking twice about it — pathologically impulsive — he pushes Kaiser off of you, and his grin grows menacing. Now he’s the one draping himself over you, and he looks at Kaiser, who seems a bit caught off guard all things considered.

“We,” Shidou points a finger at himself and then at you, maybe attempting to insinuate something, “were doing great! And then the double-rat-tailed wonder came in.”

The who?!

Kaiser maintains a cheerful facade. “I don’t know if you’re aware because you seem quite stupid, but the point of a nickname is to be short. At least my hairstyle obeys gravity.”

“Wow, hear that? No way you like ‘em uptight and snobby like this guy, babe.”

“Really? Because I would’ve thought the vulgar type who treats the plays leading up to scoring a point like edging doesn’t suit you at all. Right, darling?”

Babe? Darling? May God touch these people’s wretched souls.

“Aww, you remember that? You watched me? Good times. I’m getting so popular.” Shidou lets go of you, much to your surprise. Then he stretches like a cat and yawns, overdoing it just to illustrate his boredom with Kaiser’s presence. “Anyway, forget about gravity. Pink is much better than blue-”

“No, it isn’t,” Kaiser argues childishly, crossing his arms.

“-We all know it! And what do you have in your hair? Blue. And what do I have? Pink.”

“This is stupid. They’re just colors.”

“Someone’s mad he doesn’t have pink instead of blue.”

“What? You’re so dumb. You know it’s not natural, right? I made the choice to dye it blue. If I wanted pink, I would’ve-”

“‘You’re so dumb. You know it’s not natural, right?’” Shidou repeats in a snotty tone, then throws you a meaningful glance and snorts, waiting for you to join in on the bullying. Apparently mimicking Kaiser is something he’ll add to his list of things he considers funny from now on.

You wonder if either of them have noticed you’re yet to speak at all.

“Well, what about you?” On cue, Kaiser addresses you. Are you seeing things, or is his eye twitching? “You understand opinions about colors aren’t objective, don’t you?”

Shidou perks up. “What do you prefer? Pink or blue? You love pink, right?”

“No, I bet you’re just… obsessed with blue. I bet it’s all you can think about, along with football, of course.”

“But isn’t pink so much more energetic and wild and cool and lovable?” Shidou flutters his lashes and strikes a pose as if he’s trying to act coy but in a manner so overt, it becomes clear he’s not really trying to sell his performance.

Are they even talking about colors anymore?

You shrug, deciding to treat the situation like a game. “I haven’t decided yet. Convince me which one I should pick. Get me on board.”

“I have a car,” Kaiser blurts out. Is this the only positive quality he thinks he has when it comes to his personal life? You don’t know if you find it funny or sad.

“So what?” Shidou asks, unimpressed on your behalf. “I’ve always wanted to hijack a car.” Then he wraps his fingers around one of your shoulders, overcome with excitement all of a sudden. “Let’s go on a date when this is all over and hijack a car! We could hijack his car.”

“See, he’s psychotic.” There is an arrogant smile on Kaiser’s face again.

“You’re also kind of crazy,” you say.

“There are no positives to being with him if you think about it rationally,” continues Kaiser, like he didn’t hear you calling his sanity into question. “Even if you wanted to be a deranged criminal, he’d just get you caught. Me, personally, I could plan it all out with you.”

Scratch that, he’s an overly willing lunatic who’s shielding his emotional dysregulation by talking about logic. Like that’s ever worked for anyone.

“So what if I’m impulsive? There are positives to being with me, duh!”

“I doubt it.” Kaiser’s skepticism is palpable.

Shidou’s gaze returns to you, so he can look at you straight on while delivering his next line. “Well, I’d give you a really enthusiastic massage.” Oh, this is the route he’s taking. Ok. “Jitter up your neurons like you do mine.”

“Do you even know what a neuron is?”

“Even a foot massage?” you ask, amused.

“Sure, I can do a foot massage.” Shidou remains carefree at the suggestion.

“Do you know foot reflexology?”

“No, that’s so boring.” You frown, just for the sake of seeing his reaction more than anything. Shidou tries to amend the situation, “I can learn?!”

“You can’t let him massage you anywhere,” argues Kaiser, and he seems quite offended by the notion. “He’ll probably do it wrong and fuck you up because he’s a brute. You’re gonna get injured.”

“Well, can the blue rose princess do any better?”

“Stop calling me convoluted nicknames. And maybe not, but I could hire a massage therapist with a five star rating or something. How’s that sound?”

“You’re such a robot! You’d rather be with a brute than with a robot at the end of the day, right, babe? Team pink wins all day.”

“How am I a robot?”

Gleefully, Shidou expands on his point with his grin turning even more devious, “It’s not about giving a good massage! It’s all an excuse to be all over someone. And by the way, you don’t seem cuddly at all. I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.” His definition of ‘cuddly’ is probably questionable considering it includes Sae, but still.

“What! Yes, I am! Don’t talk about touching me, you moronic deviant!” Kaiser then deflates and seems a bit unsure despite the earlier conviction and aggression in his outburst. “I mean, if you think it’s an attractive quality, that is. But if you find it degrading, then I’m not huggable at all.”

Wow, they’re both suckers. You wonder how far you’ll be able to push it in the future?

#blue lock x reader #michael kaiser x reader #shidou ryuusei x reader #shidou x reader #kaiser x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you

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slutforgarlogan · 2 months

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"Youre a pretty little thing" | Michael Langdon x F! reader.

Summary: based off this request. Michael Langdon showing off to the coven witches and using the seven wonders to impress you because he has a crush on you

A/N: guys i love him im a catholic and he's the antichrist we're like romeo and juliet. also the writing on this one is questionable n clunky but im on wine and cider so it needs to be forgiven

When the warlocks had told Cordelia they wanted to have Michael perform the seven wonders, Michael had felt determined to get it done quickly and better than Cordelia could do it, to prove he was the next supreme, and no one could argue it.

However, when the witches had arrived telling him they agreed to it, and he could attempt to perform the seven wonders, Michael had found himself a little distracted by one of the witches, you. His new goal was to impress you.

First wonder: Telekinesis. This one was easy and simple, he just had to move something without touching it. He did so, quickly and with ease, shooting a cocky smirk at the witches, eyes lingering on you a little.

Second wonder: Concilium. Michael knew he could be crafty with this one - control of the mind. He looked at you, and as you made eye contact, you knew you were going to be the victim of him showing off this power.

You could feel yourself moving towards him, very much against your will, and you took mental note of the fact that though you yourself were a very powerful witch, he was powerful enough that you couldn't even try and fight it.

To your surprise, despite the weird evil vibe you've all been getting from him, all he makes you do is dance with him. You uncontrollably slow dance with him, unsure whether it's his pretty face or the magic thats making you kind of nervous, but whatever it is, you scold yourself for thinking that way about a man that even one of the warlocks is scared of.

When he's done making you dance with him, you awkwardly do the walk of shame back over to stand next to Zoe, awkwardly smiling at her.

Third wonder: Transmutation. Another easy one, Michael thought. Madison had tapped him on the shoulder, and in turn, he had appeared behind you to tap you on the shoulder.

By the time you had turned round, he had dissappeared again, leaving everyone looking around for him. Your eyes dart around the room, a little puzzled. Whatever he was doing, it was successfully intriguing you more and more by the second, drawing yourself to the unsettling boy.

"Look up"

You can all hear the cockiness in his voice, the same annoying smirk as before present on his face, as you look up to the ceiling, to see Michael attatched to it, looking down on everyone, like one of those sticky animals you get from toy machines.

Fourth wonder: divination. Once again, Michael already knew he could do this, another easy one. He had to do this one as it was given to him, unfortunately, and couldn't do anything extra to inadvertently flirt with you more. And so, he makes a small bit of eye contact with you, before he takes the small pebbles and usea them to figure out where the pocket watch is, finding it almoat instantly, and walking over to where it was to pick it up and show the witches.

Fifth wonder: Pyrokenesis. Michael decided the best thing to do, would be to conjure a ring of fire around where you and madison were stood, making piercing eye contact with you through the fire, and getting rid of it as quickly as he had conjured it up.

To you, the danger and mystery of him was considerably attractive, though Cordelia didn't seem too impressed that he was practically targeting you.

Sixth wonder: Vitalum Vitalis. Michael was given a rat to bring back to life, which proved another easy task for him, doing so pretty much instantaneously, and moving on to the seventh wonder.

Seventh wonder: Descensum. Cordelia had ordered for Michael to not only successfully come back from this, but also to retrieve Misty Day, who had been lost to this particular task when she tried the seven wonders.

This, of course, had caused an arguement between her and the warlocks, who were claiming it wasnt fair, and that it's not a part of the rules.

You and Michael, had been making eye contact the whole time, and the tension between the two of you was so thick you could almost see it. He broke eye contact to look at the warlocks, holding up a dissmissive hand to them "Relax, I'll do it"

He did, and you watched intensely as he lay there, seemingly lifeless. You started to feel a little nervous, even though you didn't know him at all really, nor would you ever admit to having the slightest care in the world how this played out, you told yourself you were nervous because you wouldn't wish death upon anyone.

Sure enough, he did return, and Misty did - eventually - return with him. Much to everyones shock.

You stood there and gawked, eyes flicking between Michael and Misty, and he smirked at you.

A short bicker between the witches and warlocks ensued, before the witches had all turned there attention to Misty.

You however, had turned your attention to Michael, your gaze locking with his for what felt like the millionth time today.

"You seem impressed, little witch," he smirks a little at you, and you nod in response.

"I am impressed" you confirm, trying to be cautious, undeniably attracted to him, but still acknowledging that there's something off about him.

"That was the goal, i wanted to impress you" he sounds serious about it, and you tilt your head a little, cocking an eyebrow.

"Why"

"You're a pretty little thing, thats why"

#rileys requests #cody fern smut #cody fern #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x you #ahs coven #ahs cody fern #american horror story #evan peters #evan peters smut #tate langdon #james patrick march #kai anderson #kyle spencer #peter maximoff #ahs smut #jimmy darling

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bunnybunbun0 · 6 months

Note

Can you please write a Michael smut where he takes readers virginity with a lot of praise or mutual masterbation please plz

TO DE-STRESS A FRIEND

Anon,that ask rocked my shit! and lucky you i love writing about virginity loss! hope you like it! <3

Summary: Living the life of a young adult was stressing you out,you needed your best friend Mike to help you relax

Warnings: Smut , minors DNI,unprotected sex,fingering,virginity loss,mutual masturbation,afab!reader,let me know if i forget any.

You are responsible for your media comsumption.

You swear that one of these days you will make it to the front page of the news,the headboard will say "local college girl goes insane".

The stress were just over the board for you,the pressure at college,maintaining a minimun wage job to pay rent of the cubicle appartment you called a home. You needed to relax. So you just did the best thing you thought off.

"Hey,i picked up pizza!" Mike greeted at the door with a smile as you let him in.

Mike has always been your best friend,he was the only one that would be kind to you when you had to change schools for junior year,and youve been inseparable since,it was weird to see one without the other,and all you needed to calm yourself down were your best friend.

"Thank god you´re here! i think i´m gonna explode!."

You sank yourself on your old couch on the small living room sighing deeply,hearing Mike´s chuckle from the kitchen as he fetched you both plates for the cheesy delight.

"Relax,two more years and youll have your degree." He smiled at you with those sweet brown puppy eyes that could easily melt your heart.

You´ve been into Mike since the first homecoming you two attended together,its been you two in all events since,graduations,proms,homecomings,halloween parties,always matching outfits and always glued to one another.

As just friends of course! It´d be way too awkward to ruin the best friendship you ever had,but the caring way mike always made those nights special for you,even tho he thinks they´re lame,he always proteced you from creepy guys and mean girls at school,he listened to you ramble about your interests,he made you feel confortable and safe,and happy...

...but just as friends of course!

"Ugh,all that suffering for a lousy piece of paper!" You reflect while getting your plate of pizza (your favourite flavour of course,mike always remembered which one it is) "Just pop in the movie already!"

You took a bite of your dinner and watched as mike popped the cd on,then sitting by your side while the movie started.It wasnt a very interesting one but it was good enough to keep you both entertained. Your leg lazily hung on top of michaels and the mood was peaceful,until it wasnt.

You knew this movie were r-rated,but you didnt expect to see that,that one hot actor that been distracting you the whole movie is the one getting it on in the scene,you squirm a little,wishing you could excuse yourself to your room and let your toy do the job of settling the throb between your legs.

Mike´s eyes on you were´nt helping said throb either,you knew he could tell what happened and weirdly enough the shame of it was thrilling you more.

"You okay?" He asked suspiciouly

"Huh? Uhm,sure...." Making eye contact with him while the moans kept going on the background proved to be a hard task.

"Really? You seem...agitated" To say that was an understatement,your thoughts of mike were running wild,to the point where you could feel your underwear cling to your soaked heat.

"I´m...uhm...i am...." Mike´s sincere concern about your well being and how sweet he was about it were thriling you on even more,to the point where you couldnt muster up any words.

"I get it,you´re into that short guy on the screen" He said jealously "The scene clearly messed you,its okay if you need to...yknow...reliev yourself"

You were mortified by his words,but something about the thrill of being watched by michael´s sweet puppy eyes were making your fire burn higher.

Without taking your eyes from his and unsure of how he´d react,you slowly slid your hand into the hem of your pyjama bottoms,his lustful eyes following every movement of yours carefully,his breathing getting heavier by the moment.

"Fuck..." He whispered when you let out a low whimper as your cold finger finally found your needy clit.

You kept on staring at each othe while you pleasured yourself and after a few minutes the tent on his pants were hard to miss,and the way his hands tended to it were even harder to miss.

The movie behind you were long forgotten,the gasps and whimpers of you both were drowning the small space,eyes glued on one another and hands unable to stop pleasuring yourselfs.

"God,i cant wait any longer!" Mike pulled you suddenly on his lap kissing you deeply and passionately,swallowing your whimpers as you grinded on his lap,frenetic hands locked on the hem of his shirt pulling it over his head.

Your eyes lock on his shirtless figure and his hands caressed your waist below your shirt,goosebumps coming from your back. His hot lips went down with open mouthed kisses on your neck,a satisfied grin on his face as he took off your pyjama shirt and met your braless torso.

"Youre gonna be the death of me..." He huffed out in a breath.

You could´nt even think about responding before you felt his hot tongue on your nipple,he sucked on your breasts like his life depended on it,erupting multiples whines from you,the fire getting higher and higher between the both of you.

You snapped back to reality once you felt his hand grip your thigh strongly,inching closer and closer to where you were soaked for him.

"Mike wait!" You breathed out and he immediately stopped his ministrations,staring at you wide eyed.

"I´m so sorry,the sounds you were making,i thought you were liking it" his voice leaked of honesty.

"I´ts not that mikey,it feels great im just...i...never did this..."

"Oh,youre..."

"A virgin,yes,pathetic i know" The weight of being a twenty two year old vigin sank on you after that.

"Hey hey its fine!" He cupped your face gently and looked into your eyes,so tenderly you nearly forgot you were both half naked. "It´s all right...you should have told me sooner...if you wanna move on with it,i wanna make it special for you,like you deserve" He strokes your cheecks lovingly and you dont even need to think twice.

You threw your hands around his neck and pulled him closer kissing him with all the need in your heart.

"Please michael...make me yours"

He got up with you on his lap bringing you into your bedroom laying you gently on your bed,slowly peeling you off your shorts,you were only in your underwear now,laying in bed in front of your best friend.

"You look beautiful."

He dives into another deep kiss sliding his hands closer to where you need him the most.

"May i?" He asks teasing your hips with the elastic of your panties,you nod giving him acces to your whole body.

He slides a first finger into you with ease,revelling at the sweet moan you let out.

"Fuck baby you´re so wet"

Baby. You liked being called that,specially when mike did it. His kisses were growing desperate and erratic,just as the pace of his now two figers inside you.

"Mike,please,stop" You mutter almost out of breath opening your eyes and seeing his worried expression "Wanna cum on your cock,please."

Michael´s painfully hard cock nearly busted hearing those words come out of you,how could he deny anything you asked for? He was always putty to your wishes.

his hands quickly fumbled with the fly of his pants,making you giggle at his eagerness to get undressed,when he finally did your laugh got stifled at the sight.

His big red angry cock sprung free hitting him back in his abdomen,there was no way in hell that could fit inside your tiny virgin hole,he could see the worry in your eyes clear as day.

"Relax,ill be gentle..."

He kissed you again removing your panties now leaving you bare for him,the sight itself of you naked and wet for him,with that adorable blush on your face was driving him nuts. He drew his body closer to yours until his tip was teasing your entrance.

"You ready baby?" He asked,you nodded,and his fat tip was inside you.

You both gasped in unission at the feeling,his hands holding yours giving it a slight grip,signaling he was gonna push more in. The moan you let out were other wordly,busting his usually low ego and egging him on pleasuring you.

"Fuck baby youre so tight" With a final push and a guttural groan he was fully inside you.

The disconfort and euphoria were fighting to see who would take place on your expressions. Mike gave you a few minutes until you got used to the feeling of his shaft deflowering you,the pain turned into needines at any growing second,until it was unberable for you to have him inside you and not moving.

"Mike please,i need you to move" Your wish was his command.

He thrusted in you slow and deep,every time he bottomed himself you let out a moan,and each time you moaned he moved faster,making you moan more. It was a vicious cycle and before you could even register he was fucking you senseless.

You were flirting with your orgasm,only needing that one final push to send you over the edge.

"Mike,fuck,i´m so close" you whined out,only needing his sweet final push.

"Come on baby,be good and cum for me,feel good for me."

You couldn´t hold it at his praise,moaning his name loudly followed by a string of profanities. He was hypnotized by the sight of your orgasm,seeing you trash and moan underneath him,his hips moving on his own as you ride your high.

"Oh,fuck baby,watch me cum so good for you"

He pulled it out jerking off quickly on top of you painting your pretty tits white his seed before collapsing tired on top of you.

"So..." He rolls to your side holding your hand and laying close to you "Did you liked it? Are you okay?" You chuckled at the shift in his personality.

"It was amazing..." Your voice was hoarse from all the moaning "My legs will definetely be sore by the morning and i have class tomorrow" You laugh a little

"You can afford to miss class one day,you need to de-stress" He kissed your temple as you both drifted into a peaceful post sex sleep.

I guess yiu were more relaxed after all...

Gosh,i suck at endings and i´m writing this at four AM so i hope it doesnt suck!

#fnaf x reader #fnaf smut #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #michael afton x reader #michael schmidt x reader #michael afton #michael schmidt #fnaf imagines #fnaf x you #mike schmidt x you #michael afton smut #mike schmidt smut #fnaf x female reader #mike afton

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silentghosttimez · 4 months

Text

Since everyone's reading comprehension clearly just went out the window when the person in the Epstein documents asked about Michael Jackson. The girl literally said nothing happened. And to go into more detail, this was before anything about Epstein came to light and when Epstein was still fronting as one of those financial businessmen. MJ was LITERALLY THOROUGHLY investigated and HEAVILY survellienced by the government/FBI for over 2 decades BEFORE and AFTER meeting Epstein, the FBI REALLY wanted MJ gone from the public eye, they even tried to use his childhood photos and some playboy magazines to prove he was guilty. In the 2000s MJ was in conflict with Sony and was going broke, some people(we dont know who they were yet) recommended he go to Epstein to solve financial issues. MJ dipped out and Epstein never got his number, his name literally was not in that black book. Y'all keep bringing up those false accusations with the boys when if you actually look up anything on it, the boys came forward and said their parents lied, and the bed thing was false because MJ's room was huge and had two beds, he had the PARENTS AND THEIR KIDS sleeping in the beds in his room while HE slept in his own GUEST ROOM.

Stop making shit up when the people who wanted so badly for him to do something criminal literally couldn't find anything at all in all those years that he was looked at so closely to the point he was literally having mental breakdowns from being watched every where he went, during every call, and so on.

(edit: To add to this, people constantly lie about his skin and how he felt about himself and his body too. When for one, his autopsy was right there and literally says he suffered from lupus and Vitilogo and his hair was literally the way it was due to it being set on fire in that one Pepsi commercial, there are literally graphic images of just how badly his scalp had been damaged. He never hated himself or his blackness, infact he actively tried to hide his white splotches for as long as he could. He used makeup and skincare stuff that he was unaware had any bleaching affects in the ingredients. He was very open and loud about being proud of his African heritage, he even was crowned in an African village.

I made this post cause I started tweaking because the singular black breadtuber I was watching was reading the Epstein documents and when he got to Michael being mentioned he and everyone in chat suddenly became illiterate and he was talking some shit like "it would seem he really was that guy if those documentaries, court stuff and articles didn't already convince you" like WHAT??? And chat was agreeing and someone was like "the Twitter stans are still gonna find a way to defend him after this" mind you, if you weren't bread dead and believed all that slander, all the court stuff declared and pretty much proved his innocence and later one people including his own friends and family came forward saying they were forced and coerced into lying. Those documentaries that came out and so many of those articles were straight up slanderous because they were damn tabloids, I don't get why people are still trying to use tabloids as proof when they were known for spreading rumors that often were not true in the slightest. This shit actually has me genuinely heated. Like, the breadtuber didn't bother reading the rest and was just like "well that proves it" even though it was stated right below that Epstein did not have his contact. Then there's the dumbasses on Twitter too making this shit worse. You'd think that most people at some point would bother to actually use their brains and seek out as much info as possible instead of taking lies and running with it, especially if they have a platform where they literally should be doing such a thing but nope. The guy was iffy about the star wars guy and whether or not he was actually a contact in Epstein's list but that same grace was not afforded to MJ.

Another edit:Oh and also it's wild MJ's false accusations are always brought and people say Elvis and Prince are better than him meanwhile Elvis and Prince were known pedos and abusers. Like are you fucking kidding me!!!)

#txt post #text post #txt #michael jackson #politics #fbi #government #jeffrey epstein #epstein list #mj innocent

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misc-obeyme · 4 months

Text

You know the drill.

Spoilers for Lesson 40 below, including locked and hard lessons.

Just to clarify: when I say that it’s “the end” in my rantings, I am referring to season two, not the entire game. ☺️

Hmm.

I'm confused. And... underwhelmed? What even just happened?

I mean, we had lovely moments with the side characters and we got to kiss them all and of course I'm incredibly pleased I got to kiss Barbatos and Solomon, but aside from that we just... went back?

Most of the lesson was about the RAD founding ceremony. We say good bye to the side characters and they even address how we told Solomon his cooking was bad (more on this later).

But just as the ceremony is about to start, a dark rift opens in the sky. It's a rift in space and time. Barbatos straight up asks Solomon if he did it. Solomon says he didn't, but that he wasn't expecting it to show up so soon. (So who did create it? Nightbringer? And if so, doesn't this prove Solomon at the very least knows enough to know when Nightbringer is going to open a portal back through time??)

We miss the ceremony because we have to go through that rift if we wanna get back. The brothers come with us because we need their power. Just like when we summoned the white dragon, we call upon each brother for his power. Then Solomon adds his. Then there's a bright light and..

...roll credits.

Yeah. That's it. That's the end.

There's a locked lesson where Diavolo gives a speech at the ceremony.

And then the HARD lesson... is us returning to the House of Lamentation in our time. The brothers are all like oh hey MC good morning like nothing even happened. They say it's weird because it feels like it's been a long time since they've seen MC but that can't be right because it hasn't been that long at all.

AND THAT'S IT.

No Nightbringer. No further insight from Solomon or Barbatos. Not even sad angsty brothers who have been missing us.

It was like they didn't know we were gone.

So either we went back a little further in time or there was never a point where they decided as a group to send Solomon back to help us.

We didn't even get a Michael appearance!

THAT WAS VERY ANTICLIMACTIC.

I am confused because it wasn't bad, it was kinda cheesy, there were some sweet lines and like I mentioned previously I got to kiss my malewives but WHAT THE JUNK.

I'm not suffering, more like I'm just left hanging???

My one consolation is that we're back in our timeline now. So maybe NEXT SEASON we can FINALLY get some ANSWERS.

I really thought they couldn't drag it out any further and yet...

I didn't take a whole lot of screenshots this time because again, it was kinda just... underwhelming. Overall this lesson was just me going that's it?! And being baffled.

First I'd like to present you with these lovely Barbatos moments.

As sweet as this is, the man knows. Not that I ever thought anything else, but he's so subtle about it. I'm onto you, Barb.

My HEART. If I wasn't going back to another version of him, I would just be like nope staying by your side forever the end I don't care about anybody else.

But before all that, there was also this:

I'm glaring at you because you let Solomon into the kitchen.

I DIDN'T WANT TO.

OF COURSE I DIDN'T.

GOOD. SOMEONE ELSE CAN SUFFER WITH ME.

OHHhhhh Barb I love when you get all threatening and smile like that 💕

But seriously, then Barbatos and Luke help Solomon make a lunch that's actually delicious and we eat it with everybody and they're all amazed. I was like OKAY WELL I do feel a bit better about that whole fiasco now. But still, was it even necessary to begin with? No amount of sweet kitchen buffoonery with these guys is going to make me forget the pain.

At least we had a cute Solomon moment, too.

Yeah but I'm still wondering about the past version of you, Sol. I'm just saying, where is that guy?

I mean you don't have to look so sad about it.

Ah. Your jealousy is showing, Solomon. (I don't mind.)

Hard Lesson bits because I'm still just ????

YEAH BECAUSE YOU HAVEN'T.

YEAH IT'S BEEN TWO WHOLE SEASONS.

Once again, I am left with more questions than what I started with. Will MC tell the brothers what happened? Will we just never see the past brothers again? Will we return to the past in the next season? Will we ever see Nightbringer again, the being for whom this game was named?

At the very least, we still have Mephisto being himself and man I can't believe I ever disliked this guy.

THAT'S MY BOY.

I'm feeling extremely unsatisfied but it isn't like that's anything new.

I will say that it wasn't as bad as I expected. I was expecting them to do some really terrible things that made me freak out and scream and scare my cat. But no, I was mostly just ?? the whole time. And confusion is preferable to suffering in this case.

But I am also ANNOYED. We have waited long enough for the Nightbringer reveal, please give it to us now Solmare!!!

I fear we only have a short time before we are dragged further into this game that has truly become a hell of its own when season three is upon us... (I'm being deliberately melodramatic but still...)

#???#????#?????#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me nightbringer spoilers #obey me nightbringer lesson 40 #obey me solomon #obey me barbatos #misc lesson recap #misc rambles

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shininjjongg · 10 months

Text

It’s easy to hate Michael Kaiser

Author’s note: A small drabble cuz im a huge sucker for enemies to lovers trope

Pairing: Michael Kaiser x gn!reader

word count: 1k

Warnings: Alcohol, verbal abuse, aggressive behaviour, physical assault, sexual assault, bullying.

It is easy to hate Michael Kaiser.

There is a plethora of reasons to hate Michael Kaiser.

He's arrogant, annoying, self-centred, rude, and, most importantly, unprofessional.

Michael Kaiser made your life a living hell all because he is unprofessional and can not draw a line between work life and personal feelings.

Kaiser despised your guts, and he never shied away from making it known to everyone and their grandmas.

You're not certain as to what could have possibly caused this rowdy irritation he feels whenever you enter his field of vision.

You tried to be civil, you really did. We're all adults here, right? Wrong. Michael Kaiser is nothing but an overgrown child. You thought you could work with him despite him cursing under his breath each time you tried to hold a conversation with him. It's not like you were trying to chat him up; no, you were just trying to give him important information about his upcoming matches and events that were planned.

He was insufferable. You have considered leaving the job several times, all because of Kaiser and his inability to keep personal feelings out of his professional life.

He picked at you every chance he got. You were 5 minutes late to the meetings? No worries, Kaiser has already been complaining about you being unpunctual for the last 20 minutes. You accidentally messed the times in his schedule for the week? He will remind you of that every time he sees your face. You went to get a coffee from the cafeteria but didn't grab one for him? What kind of a manager are you even if you can't do your job properly.

The first time you met Kaiser was 6 months ago when you were assigned to be Bastard Munchens manager. If you had known the absolute nightmare that Michael Kaiser would be towards you, you would have NEVER taken the job.

On your first day, you were introduced to all the players of the team; they were all nice and welcomed you warmly, except Kaiser, who didn't even glance your way. Initially, you thought that maybe he just had a bad day. But you knew you were lying to yourself, you've heard what people say about him, about his character.

You refused to believe the essence of Michael Kaiser was to be a jerk. He can't be that bad, right? Wrong. Kaiser made sure he proved to you each day why he had the reputation of number one bastard in Bastard Munchen.

After winning a particularly hard match, the whole team decided to go celebrate and invited you as well. Even tho you were hesitant, considering Kaiser would go out of his way to make you feel uncomfortable, you still agreed. One night out wouldn't hurt, would it?

After arriving at the club, everyone scattered around doing their own thing, dancing, drinking, flirting. You were sitting at the bar, staring at your drink and listening to Ness talk about this amazing goal Kaiser landed in the match.

You love Ness, truly you do, but god, all he ever talked about is Kaiser. You were honestly getting sick of it. After not-so-careful consideration, you excused yourself to the restroom to freshen up a bit.

Upon entering the restroom, you heard someone follow you right away, not that you cared enough to pay attention to who it was that entered.

You let out a surprised yelp when you suddenly felt someone press themselves to you and cage you between their body and the counter. Shocked and scared, you didn't know what to do or what to say, anxiety and fear taking over your body as you started shaking.

Looking in the mirror, you saw the predator's face. It was the guy who had been glaring at you ever since you stepped a foot into the club. His intense staring made you uncomfortable, but you were here with Bastard Munchen, they would never let anyone lay a finger on their precious manager.

Alas, you didn't think the guy would be such a creep to follow you into the restroom to make a move. A loud banging noise broke you away from your thoughts. He had instinctively let go of you due to the loud noise, and by the time he had figured out there was no real danger, you had already made a beeline towards the door.

Hurrying back to Ness to gather up all your belonging and bid goodbye as you left the club and called Uber.

Upon arrival at your apartment, you collapsed. Head hanging low, lost in thoughts. You had escaped by pure luck. Who knows what that creep was planning to do.

Deciding to relax a bit you ran a hot bath and plopped yourself in it. Sighing heavy as your skin came in contact with the water. All you want to do is wash away everything that happened that night.

After an hour or so you had already gotten out of the bath and were getting ready for bed when you heard aggressive knocking at your door.

"Who in the world is banging on my door at 3 in the morning."

Scoffing, you made your way to the front door, opening it.

Nothing in the world could have prepared you for the sight you had witnessed. There he stood, in all his glory, Michael Kaiser.

Upon further inspection, you noticed he reeked of alcohol and could barely stand on his own, and... he was covered in blood.

Wait... why was he covered in blood. Is he hurt? Did he hurt someone? Why did he come to you? What was going on?

You mind became consumed by tens of thousands of unanswered questions and before you could speak he beat you to it.

"You okay?" he mumbled in a low tone.

"I'm supposed to be the one asking the question! What happened? Are you hurt??" you hurriedly spoke while opening the door wider to let Kaiser in.

"'m okay, not my blood" he said as he stumbled into your apartment

"Did you get into a fight?" now, you were getting pissed. Of course he got into a fight, it's Kaiser we're talking about.

"I beat up the guy who touched you." he said nonchalantly while making his way into your living room.

Did he beat up the guy from the restroom?

Before you could process what he said, he turned back to face you and said

"Came to make sure you're okay"

It's easy to hate Michael Kaiser, he's arrogant, annoying, self-centred, rude, and, most importantly, unprofessional.

#michael kaiser #kaiser #bllk #bllk angst #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #kaiser x y/n #kaiser x reader #kaiser angst #michael kaiser x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #kaiser x gn!reader #bllk kaiser

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postmodernbeliever · 12 days

Text

little darling- fox mulder x female reader (SMUT OH MY GOD…)

fox mulder knows how badly you want to be touched, to be taken care of, and he is obsessed with being the first and only guy to do it.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

my ao3 | word count: 6,071

content tags: smut, smut so good in my brain it came out poetic?, loss of virginity, virginity kink, dom fox mulder, protective gentle extremely horny fox mulder, embarrassment, sexual fantasy, plus size reader gets sooooo much love, im blushing just posting this aaaaaaa, oh some religious bits bc catholic girls are freaky and also his sex is THAT good, cross-posted on ao3

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

fox knew it was wrong, and he didn’t care. he knew how he thought about you, how he touched you in his mind, how he wanted to possess you was culpable- but then again, how shameful could it truly be? how bad was it to want to take care of you, to teach you the right way, to want to show you how good love is supposed to feel? well, maybe it wasn’t completely pure, because he nearly came untouched just thinking about you sometimes, but he just couldn’t help himself. he wanted to. he wanted to be the one you chose to give yourself to. the only one.

it was always in the most mundane moments, like this one, that he needed it most, which played into his guilt. soft moments where you were unaware of what you were saying or doing, clueless as to how you were making him feel. now, as you sat watching the sex scene from basic instinct while fox pretended to be filling out a case file at his desk, was one of those moments. you squirmed in your seat with a sweet blush on your cheeks, watching the slight caricature of sharon stone on top of michael douglas, pupils blown wide and trying to hide your interest. fox was doing his best not to move a muscle, but he felt like a vein would pop if he didn’t turn around to look at you. his stomach was twisting itself into hot, trembling knots just wondering what the scene was doing to you.

you’ve been dating him for a few months now, and upon meeting him, you fell in love in a way you still didn’t understand. he did, too. he idolizes you, he holds you up above everyone else to his detriment. after the first few dates, you told him that you wanted to take the physical aspects of the relationship slow because you had personal obstacles to overcome; he promised to do so, because when you look at him, his entire world glows, and he refused to jeopardize that heaven you unraveled. but he’s learned a lot about you since then simply through deduction. the few risqué movies you’ve watched with him proved through the surprise on your face that you hadn’t seen much video porn, let alone been touched; the books you tried to hide in your purse had absurd covers with the lustful silhouettes of cowboys and prairie girls, corporate bosses and assistants, big looming over small against some dark backdrop– all of it meaning that when you were alone, you fantasized. but the most telling was when fox himself touched you, albeit innocently. it was like you’d never been touched by anything before. when fox’s fingers ghosted over your knuckles as he held your hand, you’d giggle like a schoolgirl, hiding your face in your shoulder. even better, when he brought those same hands to the soft, warm apples of your cheeks, you’d shudder, melting into his touch like you’d lost your volition. it didn't matter how he did it- if his hands were on you in some capacity, your breath hitched in your throat like a fool.

you wanted to let him touch you. there wasn’t a thing in the world you wanted more than to let him give you all of the things you’d dreamed, all of the things he must be aching to, but it was difficult for you. it seemed no amount of love was enough to break down your walls– you’d never let anyone that close. you’d always struggled with your body and your worth, and the little dating experience you’d had wasn’t much to boast about. you weren’t what people wanted, even if you were deserving. you knew fox was different, and that to him you weren't too big or not pretty enough, but you had just about every anxiety about physical affection. he had no idea you were a virgin on top of it all, which only made the pressure greater. you just couldn’t get over the fear. but you yearned to have it, so much so that even the smallest instances set your body aflame. you had the most lewd things running through your head when fox did just about anything. once you watched the man reach for the cereal box on the top shelf in his kitchen, and his sleep shirt rode up to reveal the dark happy trail that disappeared down his pants, and you felt so dizzy you could’ve dropped dead. and whenever he was close, it was unbearable. you replayed the sensation of his strong, lean hands resting protectively over your hip at his friend’s house. you thought about the way his lips felt on your forehead so often you could’ve written a book based solely on the texture. it drove you insane, the way you wanted him, and you drove yourself insane every time you didn’t act on it. but what did you know of hands, of mouths, of letting someone see what you shroud in fabric every day? what did you know of making him feel good, too, of being worth the wait for him?

now, as you curled up on his couch, you watched michael douglas’ hand grip sharon stone’s leg. it was big, but not big like fox’s. you imagined it was your boyfriend on the television, dark and brooding, as you saw how the man dove between the blonde’s legs, starving; her back arched, propelling her hips forward into his face, and she let out a soft moan. in your head, you saw yourself on that bed, and fox as hungry. you squeezed your thighs together and gathered the blanket draped across your legs in your palms, trying not to look as overwhelmed as you felt. but the agent who listened to the heavy breathing on screen saw exactly what was happening to you. he saw the blood rushing to the tips of your ears, tinting them the color of your bitten lips; he saw the way you shifted rhythmically beneath the blanket, almost undetectable, but absolutely undeniable. fox looked up at the ceiling as if to thank the god he didn’t believe in for playing basic instinct on cable, and he stood up from the desk, stalking over to sit beside you on the couch. as his body made the cushions dip, you smiled nervously. through a cracking voice, you said, “i didn’t know this movie was all… y’know.”

‘oh, yeah, it’s pretty heavy,” fox nodded, attempting his best unassuming expression. “still good, though, huh?”

“i mean, sure,”

“yeah, i think so, too.”

fox sighed just a tad too loudly and let his hand fall on your thigh. nothing but the blanket was between his palm and your skin. you looked to him with a pleading pair of eyes, though you didn’t really know what you were pleading for. the moaning from the television got louder, and you felt so warm, and his hand wasn’t going anywhere. you had no idea what to do. fox grinned at you and let his head tilt back over the couch as he swallowed thickly. you stared at the curve of his stately neck, how his adam’s apple bobbed, and every inch of your body pined in his wake. fox gazed at you, lounged wide like a lion, and his hand slowly traveled up your thigh to the crease of your hip. he slid his fingers across the soft crevice, and you were still at a statue, stuck between craving the friction and terrified to feel it.

“can i ask you something personal?” fox’s voice was gentle. husky.

“...mhm.”

“has anyone ever, uh,” you followed his gaze to the tv, where michael douglas was doing things that made your hands sweat. “have you ever done it like that?”

you prayed that a black hole would open up in the floor and suck you in, so you never had to admit the truth. but his hand was still in that soft spot, and his minty eyes were made of looking glass, and the image of him that fucked your mind was so boggling you were on the edge of giving up.

“just out of curiosity,” he added, lips curling into a cheshire smile.

you ran a hand across your burning cheeks and murmured, “uh, no. no, i haven't.”

“it’s interesting, y’know, how they can make it look so real,” fox pursed his lips, pushing his hand back down your thigh to rest on your knee.

before you could bite your tongue, you confided, “i wouldn’t really know.”

fox’s hand paused at the crest of your kneecap, a chill running down his body. he thought of you, his pretty, quiet, gentle girl, and he never once stopped to think why you were so reserved. he always blamed the little silver cross that hung from your neck and some guy from your past, but he neglected other options. but now, his mouth watered.

“really?”

you tugged the blanket up to your face. “is that a bad thing?”

the man turned to face you, pulling your hands away to reveal the flushed face beneath. you were breathing so heavily. a need rattled his bones, one he wished he could stifle. pictures flashed in his brain- you, writhing beneath him, the feeling so new, making pretty faces as he did what the people in movies do. him, defiling you, ruining the girl you’ve been, clutching to your cross as your mouth bled with his name. maybe he was a monster, but his cock twitched in his dress pants at the humiliated expression you bore.

“no, baby, of course not!” he chuckled, “no, that’s– that’s a good thing.”

“but i-”

“everyone does things at their own pace,”

“but…”

“but what, sweetheart? i don’t expect anything from you.” fox sweetly lied. he wouldn’t force it, but he wanted it. badly.

“i just wish that, uh, that i had by now. sometimes. i guess.”

your eyes darted between the television screen and the way his nimble fingers encased both of your wrists. it only took one hand for him to hold you down… what a career he could make with his other hand free.

“have you ever tried?”

“...no.”

“do you want to?”

you let out a nervous hum. something came over you like it always does, and you leaned over to hide in his shoulder; in a way, that was better than letting him see your face. his hand rested at the nape of your neck as he cooed, “awh, baby, it’s okay.”

“it’s not really okay,” you mumbled into his shirt. “it’s embarrassing.”

“i don’t think it is. i think it’s cute.”

you felt his hand run down your back, and you pushed yourself a little closer, so you could rest against his neck. fox kept talking since you were at a loss.

“nothing embarrassing about that, i promise. truthfully, you’re better off. so many guys out there just wanna take advantage, y’know?” he reasoned, tracing little things at the small of your back, fingertips like pens. “probably would’ve wished you didn’t, because you’re so hard on yourself… i would hate to know you lost your virginity to some guy who didn’t care about you. not the way i do.”

the heat of your breath against his neck was maddening. everything about you was maddening. how you curled into him for protection, for reassurance, how your palms tugged at the wrinkled cotton of his work shirt because you didn’t know where to put them. the little nods of agreement you made with every opinion he voiced. he wanted to knock you on your back and fuck you right there, but he couldn’t. he couldn’t spring it on you. you had to want it, you had to let him. and he knew you wanted to let him because it was all over you.

he asked again, “baby, do you want to?”

he raised his wandering hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, and you felt this urge inside you, an indulgence just begging to be released. acting selfishly, you pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, and beneath your lips, you felt the vibration of a little growl. fox tangled his palm in your hair, and as gently as he could, he pulled your head back so you had no choice but to look at him.

“is that a yes?”

your stomach churned. “yes.”

“good. come on.”

fox rose from the couch and tugged you up with him. he watched the blanket fall from your legs to see that your sleep shorts had ridden up and tucked themselves in the chub of where your thighs and legs met, that sacred spot he’d touched before, and he rolled his eyes in ardor. with your shaky hand in his, the man led you into his bedroom, where he motioned for you to sit at the edge of the bed.

“fox, i…”

“what, love?”

“i… i don’t know.”

you watched him walk over to his closet and open the doors, revealing the shuffled-around mess inside. with his back turned to you, you saw his hands disappear to unbutton the dress shirt that crumpled on his shoulders from a day’s work. as he pulled it over his head, the spotless skin of his sculpted back smiled at you. your hips were warm.

“you’re nervous,” he said, still facing away as he threw the shirt into the basket. “i know you are. but it’s not so scary. plus, you’re with me. i’m nice, aren’t i?” “you’re very nice,” you smiled, “but you’ve done this before. you… you know so much more than i do.”

“are you sure?” fox’s laugh rumbled low in his throat, “because i’ve seen the books you read. bet you’ve got all kinds of ideas i’ve never even tried before.”

you shifted on the bed, tucking your legs into a crisscross. “w-well, that’s different!”

“no, it’s not!” the man teased, shaking his head like you were hopeless. he crossed the room, back to you, where he stood like a pillar before the bed. when you didn’t meet his gaze, he tucked his finger beneath your chin and made you. “you’ve been thinking about it for so long, haven’t you, sweetheart? about me? must be so lonely, just thinking, never doing.”

he passed his thumb over your trembling chin, admiring your starry eyes, how they reflected so much love. you were so pretty, a pretty he couldn’t have imagined if he’d seen all the most beautiful women in the world. none of them could hold a candle to his girl. “you’re so smart, so good at handling things when they’re hard. but you never let anyone handle you, do you? not even me, baby, and i could be so good at it.”

you couldn’t control how you let him sway you. you gave yourself over, basking in the rush. he settled on his knees, so you had to look down, and he pressed his hands to where your love handles dipped, passing the skin over in his hands.

“i’ve wanted to let you,” you sighed, “i’ve… thought about it.”

fox’s eyes, eager as a puppy’s, looked up at you as he asked, “well, when we’re in your head, where do i start?”

you shivered. “you kiss me first.”

the man decided that you deserved to have your fantasies fulfilled; if in your pretty mind you’d dreamed up a routine, then he’d follow it, and he’d prove to you that nothing was as good as the real deal. he pushed up on his knees and leaned in, thankful for his low-set bed, as he pressed his lips against yours. you disassembled against his touch; he moved with a cadence that had your head spinning, fingers behind your ears, tongue swiping against your bottom lip. you’d kissed him plenty, but never like this. never so messy, so desperate. he tasted warm, and kind, sunshine in a mouth. you let out a soft whimper as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth.

“i think you’re a bad girl in that head of yours, angel,” he mumbled into your mouth. “what do i do next up there?”

you were too afraid to say it, and you didn’t want to pull away from his lips, so instead you reached for the wrist that held his hand to your face. fox’s throat tightened as you guided his hand down to your stomach, a place you didn’t let him touch often.

“so pretty, baby,” he admired, knowing exactly what it is you needed from him. he paraded his kisses down to your neck, where he got so much sloppier. he licked a stripe over your throat, nipping at the soft skin of your jaw, and he passed the chub of you over in his devastating hands. you keeled forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder, and he littered your ear with little pecks. “so soft. i love your tummy, y’know. how it looks when you wear those pretty dresses, and how when you wear my shirts i can see the shape. fuckin’ adorable, you have no idea. prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.”

“fox,” you whined. he was barely even touching you, but the weight of his words anchored your lungs to the floor.

he took a little liberty and leaned down to tug your shirt up, and began brushing his lips over you, spit for paint. you let your hands wander to his hair, and your stomach flipped at the noises he made.

“now what, sweetheart?”

“y-you… agh,”

fox pulled away, and you swooned at the sight of his pretty lips already swollen. “forgettin’ already?”

“well…” you trailed off, feeling a mental fog roll in.

fox stood up and pushed at your shoulders, tilting you back onto his bed. laying down, he had more access to pushing your shirt up and seeing you for real. he sucked at his teeth, handsome face overtaken with want; you curved like a muse beneath him, and he wondered why you hid all this body beneath clothes. you felt his hands like a compass, mapping the cascading mountain ranges and slow, dipping valleys of your hips and thighs, as if his whole world was discovering you, as if his purpose existed within the endless confines of your flesh and bones. and his hands roamed freely, nomadically, through your land, committing every road that made you shiver to memory.

“where do you touch yourself, princess?” fox smiled. you whined, and he clicked his tongue. “come on, show me.”

your hand shook, but you rested it over your shorts, and you curled your fingers in to prove you knew how.

“good girl. bet you know just what to do, huh?”

“mhm,”

“but your fingers aren’t enough, are they?” fox pouted playfully as he hooked his thumbs beneath the elastic band squeezing your waist.

“no,” you wheezed, “never.”

“fuck. you sound so pretty when you need me. let me see you.”

trying to stop himself from rushing, the man clambered on top of you and grabbed you by the back of your knees, pushing you up the bed a bit. when your head hit pillows, he tucked them behind you, and he crawled back down to your legs with a mission. gently, he tugged your shorts down, and beneath were little black boyshorts that cut into the skin of your thighs. he looked about as starving as michael douglas as he flattened his palms against your hips, adoring the sight.

“y’know, most girls hide lacy things,” he teased, “i like this so much better.”

breathlessly, you said, “lace is itchy.”

“god, you’re just dying for it, aren’t you?”

you pushed up into his palms and whispered, “please.”

“please what?”

“do it,” you heaved, “i need it, fox.”

he didn’t need to be told again. he slid your panties down in one sweep and practically drooled over what you had kept from him all this time. he could’ve cried. this must be what people felt when they saw the mona lisa for the first time, or had a prayer answered. this was his very own da vinci original. this was god’s divinity trapped in your lower half. you were an irritated pink, your pussy plump as the rest of you; as he pushed your thighs wide, he found a sheen already coating your skin. “fuck, sweetheart, is this from the movie or me?”

“y-you.” you kicked yourself for all your stammering, but the glow of his cheeks soothed the embarrassment.

“oh, yeah?”

you didn’t know how easy it would be to let yourself be touched before you just tried it. here, with the one man who might be the direct work on god on earth, you wanted to spill every secret now that you knew something of hands. your heart beat against your ribcage relentlessly as you admitted, “was imagining it was you on tv, fox, you and me,”

“jesus christ,” fox grunted, eyes dirty and dark. “i can fuck you better than he ever could.”

fox pressed his thumb to the bundle of nerves that throbbed between your legs, and just the pressure alone drew a dangerous moan from the back of your throat. he relished in the sound as he began to circle his finger, leaning down to kiss the searing skin. you rolled your hips against his touch, begging for more friction, and he wordlessly rewarded you with a new motion, one that needed two fingers for rubbing. you grabbed at his forearm as it came into reach, and he felt like he could explode from how you tugged at him. you held onto his arm like it was a lifeline. any other girl would’ve grabbed the bedsheets or touched her body, but your inexperience meant you were acting on instinct, and that quite possibly was the best thing he’d ever seen. watching you feel so good for the first time in your life had him panting like a dog. you were all his now, his pretty girl under his spell. an angel who knew only one name.

“good, baby?”

“mm-nngh,” was all you had to say.

“what a pretty girl.”

“fox…”

“good girl. only i can make you feel like this, right? not those guys in your books, none of those movies. just me, my hands, baby, my mouth,”

you used your grip on his arm to try and get him to go faster, but he refused. he wriggled free from your grasp and left a ghostly kiss on your stomach, tutting, “oh, no, angel. i’m gonna make this last. want you out of your mind when i’m done.”

you’ve felt powerless all your life, and you do even now, but this is the first time you’ve ever needed more. you were engrossed in being taken. you’d been too afraid to pray for this because you weren’t sure how the man upstairs would feel about you breaking his technical rules, but you had to have yearned to let fox take your virginity every night since you met him. you knew he’s done this before, but you didn’t know he was so gifted; but even he could tell you that it wasn’t so much his experience as it was how he wanted to ruin every other guy for you. and how could you want another when his hand– that which wrapped around the neck of a pistol, that which choked the air of men’s throats– circled your clit so gently, working a new kind of love into you that you never thought imaginable?

“been dreaming about this, y’know,” fox drawled, leaving stinging kisses on your waist. “been thinking about how our first time would go. and you’re doing so good, you’re taking it so well right now.”

you couldn’t speak. every word got caught in your chest. so instead you tugged at his hair, trying to get him to kiss you. he giggled, hovering over you and slowing his fingers so he could give you what you wanted. you moaned into his mouth, lips gnashing against his teeth in your eagerness, and just when you felt like you were starting to have some control, you felt two of his fingers push between your folds. they went so much deeper than you’ve ever gotten your own, and as he curled them inside you, your entire body shook. gasping against his cheek, you exhaled, “oh my god,”

“be careful, baby, you don’t want him to hear you,” fox warned, voice thick with lust.

you grabbed at his chest, fingers running through the little curling hairs that grew in a thicket over his heart, and you felt it beating, keeping time with his hand. you wondered if sex felt like this for everyone the first time around, but then again, how could it? unless fox was there for them all, they could never have had it this good.

“you’re so pretty,” fox cooed, “so pretty on my fingers. d’you feel pretty, baby?”

“mmm,”

“tell me you feel pretty,”

“i- i feel pretty.”

“mhm. what about me, love, you think i’m pretty, too? my hands feel pretty?”

“fuck,” you squeaked, “fox!”

“i know you do. say it.”

“you’re so pretty,” you droned, trying to catch his lips in a kiss, but he rerouted to your neck.

you ground into his palm over and over again, and he felt you burning up on his fingertips, contracting, squeezing, shaking. he moaned into your shoulder, “do you wanna cum, baby?”

your hands scratched at his arms, and to his surprise, you shook your head violently. “not yet,”

“really?”

“mm-mm. not… not time yet.”

fox’s pupils swallowed the green of his eyes. the man licked his lips and slowed to a stop, letting his fingers rest inside of you, and he asked, “what comes next, then?”

even in a position so lewd as this one, you were too embarrassed to explain. so you reached up to his mouth, swiping your thumb across his slick bottom lip, and with pretty little doe eyes, you popped your finger into his mouth. you watched as he wrapped his lips around it, swirling his tongue over the salty taste of your skin, and you whispered, “i need you.”

fox pulled off your finger with a pop. “how?”

he followed your lidded gaze as it traveled down to the bulge in his pants, and he nearly passed out.

“you sure you’re ready for that?” his eyebrows knit together in true concern, but he knew he was the one who had to answer the question, too. he wanted to do right by you– you couldn’t regret this, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you did. “i can wait, you know. this is about you.”

“no. i’m ready,”

“positive?”

“mhm,” you sighed, “just… don’t hurt me.”

the man above you melted like putty, and the hunger he’d touched you with went soft. you saw that toothy grin again, the one that gave you butterflies, and he promised, “i’d never hurt you, angel.”

the scruff of his jaw even tinted a lovesick pink as he kissed you. your fingers scratched at the back of his ears like you would a dog’s, and you confessed between breaths, “i love you, foxie.”

his hands flew to his waist and he rushed to undo his belt and shimmy the slacks down. he wanted to scream, he wanted to stand at the edge of the world and tell every soul about the way you coated his entire existence in sugar, but right now, it was just you. he was alone with his girl, and if he couldn’t tell the world, he could at least make you sick of hearing it.

“i’m so fuckin’ in love with you,” he swore, marking your face with invisible prints of his mouth. “i’m all yours, princess.”

“oh, god,” you groaned, watching how he spilled out of his boxers with glazed eyes. you had no idea where he was hiding all that. you felt a little dorky for the surprise, but who could blame you?

fox was too far to reign in. he grabbed your wrists and pulled you up, and he made you scoot up against his headboard; you pressed your back against the cold wood, and you yelped as he raised you in the air, pinning you to the wall.

“fox, i-”

“you’re not too heavy,” he stopped you, knowing what you were going to say. “you’re perfect.”

you couldn’t complain- truthfully, you didn’t even get the chance to think about it, because he was all over you. with one hand holding you up by the leg, and the other gripping the headboard with white knuckles, he pushed himself between your legs, and you knocked your head into the wall at the way he stuffed you.

“fuck, fox!”

it didn’t hurt, but god, was he big. pinned to the wall like this, you had no bearings. he had you suspended, stapled down by his sheer strength; you never thought you could be fucked like this, some little ragdoll he could throw around, but clearly you underestimated how much he could handle. you felt the wind leaving your lungs as he pulled out and snapped back in, pelvis rolling hard against your swollen clit. he moved like a wave crashing down, managing to soak every part of you with his skin.

“fuck, sweetheart, so much better than i imagined,” he croaked, “feels okay, right?”

“s-so… so big…”

“oh, baby, i know,” he babied, leaving pinprick kisses on your jaw. “you can take it, pretty girl.”

his big hand tangled itself in the hair at the base of your neck as he fucked you into the creaking headboard. you were an endless machine of moans and profanities, head lolling, trying to keep your eyes open to watch the way his lips parted at the feeling of you encircling him. he tugged at your hair, and a guttural groan escaped your lips.

“always wanted to get fucked like this, huh, baby? you’re such a good girl, you deserve it,”

“fox, please,”

“such a pretty girl,” he moaned, “jesus, you sure you’ve never done this before?”

as you bucked your hips against his swelling length, you offered a drunken grin. “only in my… dreams.”

“oh my god. you’ve got no idea how hot you are.”

he was everywhere, he was heaven, he was the pounding in your head as you collapsed against his body, letting him use you like a toy. you scratched at his shoulders, mouth all over his sizzling skin, and he flooded your ears with pretty praises. you hoped to god that by the time he was done you’d have the print of his hands tattooed on your hips, or that he’d never be done and you could float on by in this bliss forever. but his hips were thrusting hard, and falling out of time, and you felt your tummy squeezing like it was running out of air. he drowned in you, mouth full of dirty whines and strings of i love yous, and you knew you couldn’t hold back.

“f-fox… oh- oh god…”

“gonna cum for me, princess?”

“i… i’ve never…”

the feeling in your stomach was foreign and hot, and it was backing up all the functions of your brain. all you felt was fox between your legs, terrorizing this little spot that short-circuited all your nerves, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, trapping his mouth with yours– and when he hit it one last time, with eyes rolling back, and you let everything go. fox felt the warmth of you spilling over him, and the silent scream you let out had him unraveling in seconds. his hands were all over your face, fingers on your teeth as he came inside you, feeling himself mixing with you, and nearly bursting again just knowing he was.

“oh, baby,” he fussed, “good girl, atta girl!”

pulling out slowly, so you didn’t feel too shocked, he slid you down the headboard softly and helped prop you up against the pillows again. you couldn't see straight, and everything twinkled, but you did catch a glimpse of him sneaking back down the bed. the man admired the mess he left behind. the smallest dribble spilled out of you, and all of a sudden he was lapping it up with his tongue, thirsty as a castaway. your entire body buzzed with overstimulation, and in what felt like screams but only came out strangled, you exclaimed, “fuck, oh my god!”

his tongue split you open, collecting all the juices between your hips and smearing the inside of your thighs, the pretty little mound of your pussy, making you shimmer like an angel. he sucked, and he swirled, and he dug his tongue between your folds like a freak, and you grabbed at his sweaty hair, so full of him you wanted to thank your angels for sending you someone so perfect.

“come on, i know you’ve got more,” fox coaxed, “one more, baby, one more.”

black spots crossed your line of vision as you watched his face disappear in your legs, and the tidal wave rose again, drowning you in a feeling that had you bucking against his tongue like a rogue horse. you’d never been able to make yourself cum, but all it took was fox mulder to pull two loads right out of you. you felt disgusting, you felt drunk, you felt so good you could’ve died this way. you didn’t ever want to leave the bed. fox made his way back up, heaving, and he kissed you with milky lips. you tasted yourself on his tongue, and you needed his palms to pin your hips down as you trembled, stuck on your high.

“good girl, didn’t that feel good?” kiss. “you did so good, baby,” kiss, “so good for me,” kiss, “m’so proud of you, sweetheart.”

“mm… agh,”

“i know, love, take a deep breath.” you felt his hand press against your warm tummy, and he told you again, “take a deep breath for me.”

you smiled, trapped beneath him, and you breathed like he wanted you to. anything he wanted, for the rest of his life, he would get. through fuzzy vision, you saw his glittery eyes, the grecian curve of his face, the little white strip of teeth behind his handsome smile, and you felt so in love you didn’t know what to do with yourself. he started to blush under your gaze, so he laid down on top of you, resting his head on your chest to listen to your racing heartbeat.

“foxie,” you whispered.

“hm?”

“m’not a virgin anymore,” you giggled, the joy bubbling out of you.

his warm laugh echoed in your ribs. “not anymore.”

“all yours now,” you swooned, “are you happy?”

you felt his hand slither behind your back, and he scratched at your spine, making you squeal at the ticklish feeling. then he attacked your neck and shoulders, mercilessly going after all the spots he knows are most sensitive until you lost your breath again from his innocent touch. “stupid question!”

“ah!– fox– agh, stop!” you swatted at his hands, a blissful wreck.

“‘course i’m happy,” he chuckled as he relented. “are you?”

in a huff, you rested your spinning head on his pillows and blushed. “mhm. very.”

“worth the wait?”

“definitely. thank you.”

“my pleasure,” he teased, flopping down beside you and lacing his fingers with yours. and when a comfortable silence fell, he couldn’t help himself: “you know i’m never gonna stop thinking about this, right? i’m ruined for life.”

“shut up,” you laughed.

“no, seriously. get ready for a life of me drooling over you doing absolutely nothing.”

“i’d like that life, i think.”

you curled up in his side, and he drew you close, letting you hide in the crook of his neck the same way you did in what felt like a lifetime ago on his couch. there was still a little devil on his shoulder, applauding him for taking a piece of you that no one else could have now, but more than anything, his heart ebbed and flowed in his chest, blossoming each time he looked down at your pretty face. he meant it when he said he was ruined. you ruined everything by letting him fall in love with you, and he has never felt so lucky.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

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