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#Mike writes
mike-wachowski · 10 months
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I have to ask #29 Thanks in advance!
29: Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)
YEAHHHHHH HAHA THANKS INKYDROPIES
okay i have genuinely so many oneshot wips i could choose from to post for this but i think im going to choose an old fic i was working on- its a tumblr mutals fic lol, where lena and kara are both in the same fandom for the tv show "morgana", kara writes fic, and lena is her beta reader. the "morgana" show was going to be loosely inspired by jazzfordshire's morgana/red daughter au fics, and i actually got her permission to slip some references in there lol.
anyways, i think if i never end up going back to this i might cannabalize it for another fandom (maybe imodna? im still unsure) but without further adieu- the first part of the wip
The straps of leather between Morgana’s fingertips were rough with use and wear. Toying with them gently was as easy as toying with the woman beneath the form fitting armor, yet it proved itself quickly to be only half as fun. As Morgana trailed a finger down one of the straps of the chest harness, dragging slowly, she heard a soft intake of breath from her companion. 
“Do not tease,” El whispered, but her command held none of the bite Morgana so dearly craved to hear from the accented woman— truly, it bore the opposite: she heard only thick, unadulterated affection. El’s eyes flickered and shone ice-blue in the firelight of their shared hearth, and Morgana found herself drawing from all the power within her to stop herself from lunging forward and ravishing the woman’s lips. She wanted to be ever closer to El, bound hand and waist, palm and throat, lip and lip. She wanted to hear that rough voice, usually restrained by her knight’s mysterious stoicism, begging and crying out for her. She wanted to hear her say it— say the words Morgana hungered to hear-
“Kara. Earth to Kara.” 
The hands flying across her laptop keyboard freeze. Kara glances up from her desk. 
Winn Schott is staring at her over a dusty CatCo monitor. His eyes are wide, frantically oscillating between her and the door. “Ms. Grant just walked in,” he hisses. 
“Oh, shit.” Kara slams her laptop shut, grabbing her phone. She quickly slides it open to her mail app, scanning through all her recent messages— “Winn, did you forward me that message from IT?” 
“Already sent,” he nods, glancing up at her from his dual monitors. “And you have something on your shirt.” 
“Oh, darn it—” Kara glances down at her white oxford, sees the tan stain present beneath her chest pocket, and scowls. Stupid National City streets making the bus rides so bumpy. She didn’t even notice she spilled coffee over herself. 
Kara wrestles her blazer out of her bag, throwing it on top of her shirt and hoping for the best. She about faces, turning towards the door’s to Cat’s office, and, taking an exaggerated breath, steals herself for her first, and worst, interaction with Cat of the day. 
She pushes open the door. Cat Grant sits, regal, ruling the room from her ergonomic office chair. She types idly away at her laptop with one hand, and scrolls through her carefully curated morning news feed with her other. 
“You’re late,” she says to Kara, without looking up, even though Kara technically arrived to work before her. “I’ve been sitting here, waiting, for six minutes,” she continues, which, objectively, is true. 
 “Sorry, Ms. Grant,” Kara mumbles, pulling out her phone and clicking open her document with all of Cat’s itinerary for the day. 
Cat Grant starts speaking, then, and Kara tries to focus on her boss’s words, but her mind, as usual, wanders. She had been in such a groove on what she was writing, had finally broken through the haze of writer’s block she had been experiencing for nearly a week. And right as she’s about to round out the denouement of this fic, just in time for the end of the week, she has to be interrupted by her job. 
It’s really her fault, she knows. She should try to keep her home life and work life a little more separate— but the newest episode of Morgana dropped last night, and Kara had been filled with such inspiration for a scene in her current fic she spent nearly the entire bus ride here and the rest of the morning working through it. She’s nearly done too, she just has to send it off to—
Kara’s phone buzzes, perfectly timed, and she knows exactly who it is without even checking. 
Kara slides past her lockscreen and taps open the tumblr app. There waiting for her, past a wall of messages and notes, is a message from the one person she’s been hoping to hear from most all morning—the only person who could maybe help her turn this terrible morning around.
[] morgana-with-a-gun
read through what you added to the google doc last night. left some notes. its looking pretty good. 
Kara practically swoons.
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perfectfeelings · 5 months
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People grow when they are loved well. If you want to help others heal, love them without an agenda.
Mike McHargue
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coryosbaby · 7 months
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—ɴꜱꜰᴡ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ !
Mike Shmidt x fem! Reader
♡ Content Warning . oral, somno, rimming, pnv, breeding, marking, degradation and praise, dom! Mike
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Mike Schmidt who lays in between your parted thighs on his day off. His hands settle on either side of your hips, and his nose presses against your cunt. And although you’re so needy for it, needy for him, he just… lays there. Your scent surrounds his senses, filling him up and making him happy. Just laying there smelling you gets his cock so hard but he’s so tired that he doesn’t want to do anything.
Mike Schmidt who will always give in to your whiny begs for his mouth after a few moments. Soon his tongue is parting your folds and he’s licking you to his heart’s content. Whimpers leave his lips as his lips slurp up your slick, his sleepy doe eyes rolling back at the taste of you.
Mike Schmidt who spends as much money as he can on you. Not even getting mad when you “accidentally” go over his spending limit. You begin to cry when he asks you, but he just coos softly as he holds your hand.
“It’s okay. I’m not going to be mad at you if you tell me the truth, okay?” And then, shortly after, as he’s unbuckling his pants, “You can make it up to me, gorgeous.”
Mike Schmidt who facefucks his gorgeous, dumb baby— aka, you. He makes sure to grab extra tight onto your hair and thrust himself messily into your tight little throat. His balls slap against your chin and he makes so many noises as he uses you. This is supposed to be a punishment, so he makes you get off on the nearest object instead of his cock.
Mike Schmidt who coos at you, pouting mockingly as he sees you rub your swollen clit against his work shoe.
“Aww, baby. Do you need to cum?”
Your eager nodding makes him chuckle, and he yanks you further down onto his cock until your nose is pressed against the brown hair at his base, pressing his shoe harder onto your pussy.
“That’s too bad. This is your punishment, sweetie, remember? Be a good slut and cum just like that.”
Mike Shmidt who, days later, has you clinging onto him as he holds you up with his strong arms. A camera in front of him, filming the entire thing, as his cock jackhammers into your sweet cunt. Groaning, whispering, “fuck, good girl, taking my dick so good, look at you, yes, baby, yes.”
Mike Shmidt who slams you against the nearest wall, cock still inside you, tip abusing your cervix over and over as he increases his pace. Using his teeth to leave an incredibly prominent bite mark on your that draws blood.
Mike Shmidt who cums inside you, moaning and saying that he’s gonna fuck a baby into you. He fills you up until you’re overflowing and then some, making sure to shove it back in with his fingers afterwards. He wants you to be a mommy so badly, and he’s going to make sure that it takes.
Mike Shmidt who timidly asks for a rim job one night. His cheeks redden as he asks the question, his pretty doe eyes avoiding your gaze.
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” He states shyly. The once dominant boy has now become incredibly shaken, but you just smile at him and excitedly agree.
Mike Shmidt who’s riding your face a few minutes later, hole clenching up on your tongue. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but at the same hes got this growling tone in his voice as he praises you. It seems that his dominant side has come back.
Mike Shmidt who groans from above you, working his cock and balls with his own hand.
“You’re so filthy, baby. Fuck, your tongue feels so good.”
“My sweet little angel, doin’ so good f’me.”
Mike Shmidt who’s puffy ring of muscle clenches as he finally shoots warm cum all over the bed, overstimulating himself and demanding that you lick all of seed up as he gets his dick up again watching you.
Mike Shmidt who loves to keep a pair of your lace panties wrapped around his car mirror. He lied to Abby and said that it was a scarf you had given him.
Mike Schmidt who fucks you during one of his shifts— he had a hard day, so he demands that you come and see him. He forces your legs apart and bends you over the security desk, and spanks your ass raw to relieve some of his anger.
Mike Shmidt who lets you play with him when he’s asleep. His dreams go away when you wrap your mouth around his soft cock and choke on him with sweet, sleepy tears rolling down your cheeks. When he wakes up, he praises you for taking care of him.
“Oh, baby. So needy, so good f’me.”
“That’s it, good girl, choke on it— no, no, honey don’t try to pull off. You wanted this cock, so I’m gonna give it to you, okay?”
“So beautiful. C’mere, let me taste that cute pussy.”
Mike Schmidt holding you after a hard day. Knowing you need a distraction, he lets you grind against his thigh as a way to relieve so stress. He presses you to him and leaves small marks against your neck.
“Just think about me, okay? Think about my hands, my mouth…”
“Awww, sweetheart. I know, I know. Life’s been so hard lately, hasn’t it? But that’s okay. Mikey’s here, baby. Gonna make it aaaaall better.”
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© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!
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wrongspacetime · 7 months
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The Fall of the House of Usher 1.08 | The Raven (2023)
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quotefeeling · 5 months
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People grow when they are loved well. If you want to help others heal, love them without an agenda.
Mike McHargue
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murdrdocs · 7 months
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exhausting nights where abby’s little fist knocks on the door and mike wakes first, peering over your shoulder through bleary eyes to see abby standing in the doorway, shrunken in on herself.
for a second, with the only lighting coming from abby's ajar bedroom door across the hall, mike doesn't recognize her. his body floods with fear, up until she speaks.
“i had a nightmare,” she explains, one hand holding her blanket and the other bunched up in her pajama pants.
mike sighs, head hitting the pillow as he fights off sleep. “it wasn’t real. go back to sleep.” you stir in your sleep and mike pulls you closer, trying to prevent you from waking up, too.
“but mike, it felt real. please, can i just sleep in here? please?” and mike feels like a jackass when he grumbles out a “no”. but she really can’t sleep in here. the floor is too uncomfortable and mike twins bed can barely hold both of you comfortably.
he feels even more like an asshole whenever you turn around and say, “i’ll go sleep in your room with you, abs.”
you slip out of bed, leaning over to press a kiss to mikes forehead, and then mike is watching you leave his room in abby’s shadow.
he falls back to sleep, a little cold and a lot lonely, and when he reopens his eyes only forty five minutes have passed. he can’t get a full nights sleep knowing you’re in the same house as him but not in his arms, so he slips out of his bed, taking the comforter and a pillow with him, and tiptoes into abby’s room.
you’re squeezed on the bed with her, laying on your back. he thinks you’re asleep, but then your head turns softly whenever you hear the door creak open. mike walks around to your side of the bed, trying his best to avoid the lego pieces and the creaks.
he places the comforter and pillow on abby’s bay window before approaching you, his eyes already starting to close as soon as he smells your body wash.
“what’re you doing in here?” you whisper to him.
“was gone too long. i can’t sleep without you.”
you smile, a little lopsided and lazy, but your face displays what mike assumes is something akin to appreciation. “abby made me promise to stay the entire night.”
and the same feeling reflects into mikes body. he leans down and presses his lips to your forehead. “can you come sleep in the fort with me? you’ll still be with her.”
so you and mike end up smooshed in a fort fit for a ten year old and definitely not two adults, but you make it work.
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ervotica · 6 months
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smut 18+, marking, oral (f receiving), p in v
Mike Schmidt is the king of being pussy drunk. He'd spend hours with his face between your legs if you'd let him, slaking his thirst on your sweet nectar, rolling and pinching and nibbling at your clit in that way only he knows how until you're mewling, quivering, locking your thighs around his head and cumming with a weak cry; Mike thinks if there's any way to die, this would be how he wants to go.
Mike who works himself into a such a frenzy that by the time he gets around to fucking you, he's incoherent. He pushes in and his eyes cross and roll back in his head, he moans and whines and curses as your cunt involuntarily tightens and clenches around him and he can barely hold himself up, brain mush and bones liquefied. He swears your pussy is magic.
Mike who litters your soft skin with marks and bruises to show everyone just who he belongs to, to show everyone that you're his and he's yours. Teeth grazing your neck and your tits and your lower stomach until you're covered.
Mike who insists that you walk around the house dressed only in an oversized tee that you've stolen from his closet at one point or another, legs bare, marked a myriad of colours where his teeth and lips and tongue touched you the night before.
And, well, what an unfortunate awakening that must be for that nosy cop, Vanessa, when you answer his front door just like that one morning...
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cozymaples · 6 months
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mike who fucks into you deep and slow after a fight, holding your hand. mike who has your leg lifted up, fucking into you as your sobs from arguing turn into sobs of pleasure. the headboard bangs against the wall behind you, and you reach up with your spare hand to try to hold it against the wall.
“leave it.” he rasps, voice scratchy from yelling. “don’t touch it again, baby. focus.” you oblige, removing your hand from the wall and allowing your brain to shut off. you feel the way his cock slides in and out of you, thick and throbbing as it hits that spot inside of you, buried deep inside your pussy-a spot that only he can reach.
he can’t help the smug grin that tugs at his lips as moans spill from you, knowing just how to fuck you into oblivion. “there you go. there she is.”
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aweina · 7 months
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౨ৎ. MANSPREAD ( 17﹢) ; mike schmidt
tags fem reader. established relationship. dry humping / heavy petting. begging. no reader orgasm ( boo ! ! ). cocky to submissive mikey + 1.8k words.
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mike cannot seem to keep his legs closed. literally. sitting next to him was a total hassle. his legs covering every perimeter of leg space he could reach — leaving your knees buckled together and tucked in whatever corner you’re forced into.
you’ve mentioned his bad habit before, in which he mumbles an indolent “sorry” and then the next day, continues to do the same thing he’s half heartedly apologized for. at this point, you’re not sure he was doing it to press your buttons or his permanent restlessness has caught up with his memory.
then playful slaps on the knee became another idea. a quick sting to his skin kept his reactions stunned, buckling his knees together from your sharp touches. each slap garnered a short cry and a sudden flinch like some invisible string tied his legs together.
it worked, but only for a few days.
now mike catches your wrist halfway from making contact on his knees, gently tugging you down in the corner of the linen couch with a delighted chuckle. either that or he tosses you a knowing glance when you come by the couch, a raised brow and his hands protecting the caps of his knees — glancing his soft hazel eyes towards the tiny empty space beside him.
what a total ass.
all your solutions to stop his leg spreading habit seemed to do nothing for mike. instead, it made him even more repulsive — the spatial width between his legs could nearly reach the arms of the couch, leaving your poor body folded to regain any left over space. then his arms spread along the plush pillows — his rough hand would ever so often teasingly tug at your ears or play with the loose strands of your hair, pulling the ends while playfully twirling it in his finger.
in the corner of your eye, you swore there was a smug smile etched onto his face.
yeah, he’s totally doing this on purpose.
you thought a bit harder after that day. re-enacting different scenarios in your head without it resulting in some unneeded argument — nearly burning abby’s lunch in the process. but like a flash of light, it suddenly hit you. if mike was going to rob you of personal space, why can’t you do so to him?
“um … are you okay?” abby glances up at your blank eyes in concern, the chicken that was supposed to be golden brown violently sizzled from the bubbling oil, grimly layered under a blanket of black charcoal.
“o – oh, yes i’m fine abs.” you assured the smaller schmidt, transferring the hot pan away from the scorching stove — your inner victory delayed by your own clumsiness.
to salvage her burnt meal, you both shared a box of fresh delivered pizza for lunch.
but now it was that time.
it’s nighttime, mike was comfortably splayed on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels. as it always was, his legs covered every crevice of the couch — body propped completely in between the plush cushions. the gray baggy sweatpants he changed into clung to his frame well — heavily ruffled on the parts you would love to get an eyeful of. his shirt was slightly damp from a warm shower, the gentle curl patterns in his brown hair glistened under the colorful glow of the television.
mike catches your lingering gaze, a pleased smile on his face.
“you’re not going to sit down?” he slurred a quip, patting down on the other end of the couch — seized by his thick thighs.
he refrains from teasing you for your blatant staring, but instead, for your multiple failed attempts to get him to stop his obnoxious leg spreading.
“oh yeah i will.” you mocked his sluggish tone, going to get yourself a cold drink before you make your way over to the couch.
blocking his view from the blaring screen, you purposely bent down in slow motion — distracting him from his vacuous browsing to simply put your drink down. mike quirks a brow at your little act, but still makes no effort to scoot over, barely moving a muscle.
then your body began to engulf his vision, fluorescent light spilling in the sides of your shadow. confusion knitted into his brows until suddenly, the air in his lungs were punched out from an added weight. the heavy crash of your body made mike rasp a curse, making him pathetically adjust himself after being nearly sunken in the folds of the aged couch — one hand clawing at the cushions for some stability.
“r – really? on my lap?” mike managed to breath out, holding your waist steadily with his free hand — your body felt so good flushed against his.
the innocent attempt to adjust himself ended up with him grinding on your ass, eliciting a low groan from his lips.
gosh, he’s too loud.
you hurriedly fish out the remote from his weak grasp, changing the channel to something that could hopefully muffle the pathetic noises that spill from mike’s mouth. abby’s room was still nearby the living room, the lights off and the door completely shut.
“well … you never give me room on the couch, so i think this is fair.” you explained leisurely, tossing the remote to the side as you grappled onto his spread knees, lifting off some weight to rub slow, shallow circles over his clothed cock.
mike fought back a needy whimper, biting his lip until fleshy pink turned paper white. the cooling sensation of his damp hair did nothing from how much his body was burning up. both his hands cling desperately onto the handles of your waist — kneading and lightly grazing his nails in your soft skin.
a throbbing warmth brushed against your clothed clit, mercilessly constricted by the confines of his sweatpants. you fought back a whine yourself, desperately tugging at the gray fabric with sealed lips. every steady brush of your soft flesh made mike see stars, the urge to lift his hips and grind harder into the curve of ass sat heavy in his lust hazed mind. yet his obedience seemed to glimmer brighter than his deviant instincts.
“ha ha- harder – ngh – please go harder.”
he sounded so sweet, so needy. you couldn’t deny him when the pool of his sticky precum oozes through the gray fabric — gossamer strings that weaved your dripping arousal with his own.
“s – stay still then.” you whispered, now fully pressing your weight against his hard cock — your back against his panting chest.
mike does what you ask, gluing his hips down to the cushions.
his heartbeat was racing against time, pumping all the hot blood that rushed down to his cock. his warm breath fanned the back of your neck, sending electric waves down your spine. his touches were sweaty, latching and kneading anything that pertained to softness. the open mouthed kisses he planted on your bare neck blossomed into purple hues, the drag of his teeth and muted whimpers coercing you to absolutely destroy him.
your hips rocked faster on his cock, the throbbing imprint tucked between the curve of your ass. his grip felt extra tight on your hips, reddish crescent marks decorating your flushed skin. mike throws his head back on the couch, his usual deep groans replaced with airy sighs. he closes his eyes, the same stars dancing in his eyelids — your heady scent making it harder for him not to hold you down himself and hump his cock against your pussy.
he’s so close, he can feel it.
“might cum – ah fuck.” mike warns with a high-pitched whine, the blasting audio from the television really doing him a favor.
you can tell too. his cock hasn’t stopped throbbing ever since he’s accidentally grind against you. his seeping precum never seemed to stop, only staining against the seat of the couch. he was like a horny teenager, so desperate to get off and trying so hard to compose himself. not like the asshole who was taking up all the space on the couch.
this was a great plan after all.
with one hard press against his cock, a spill of scorching heat nestled into your clothed pussy — eating through his soiled fabric and coating your covered folds. with no restraint whatsoever, mike’s deep groan vibrated the dimly lit living room, mindlessly bucking his hips lazily over your cunt like he could possibly pump some cum along your walls. the stars that whirled under his lids dispersed into a warm, satisfied feeling all over his usual restless body.
the very last minute, your hands flailed over his panting mouth — looking over to the direction of abby’s room. he seems to realize how loud he was, eyes widening as he hastily grabs onto the discarded remote, amplifying the volume to a considerate tone. not too loud to wake her up but definitely loud enough to cover the after effects of your intense heavy petting.
the light in her room remains untouched, her delicate footsteps nonexistent. she’s still asleep, thank goodness.
still both hazy from your lustful highs, mike drops the remote and snuggles into the crook of your neck — taking in your addicting scent while admiring the love marks he gave you. his cock softened under the soiled fabric, the sticky feeling making him furrow his brows. but then he realizes one thing, the sudden flinch of his body made you alarmed.
“i – i’m sorry. you didn’t get to cum.” mike sheepishly apologizes, fiddling with the waistband of your soiled shorts.
you shook your head with a relieved sigh, leaning back to gently kiss his stubble jawline — combing your fingers through his soft curls, dried on the top but the ends damp with sweat.
“i’m fine, baby, but you can make it up with one thing.” you mumbled in the base of his ear, a playful smile on your face.
in the corner of his eye, he can see the curl of your lips — the sight earning an eye roll.
“i already know what you’re going to say, but let’s hear it.” mike’s voice was baritone next to your flushed face, completely contrasting his previous whines and whimpers.
“give me all the space on the couch for now on.” you laugh when mike groans, still pulling your body closer to his despite this new ordeal.
“okay fine.” he defeatedly mumbles into your shoulder, his rough hands tracing over your bruised hips to your neglected chest — reaching under to knead your soft skin for his own enjoyment.
the moments of comforting silence were therapeutic, not even the continuous dialogue and sound effects from the bulky screen could ruin its peace. there was something still ticking mike off, he didn’t want to ruin this sweet moment but he couldn’t help it.
“are you sure my lap isn’t good enough?” he pleaded, a glint of hope in his hazy eyes — the couch being his only source of possession where he could splay himself comfortably.
you scoffed, rolling your eyes in the back of your head.
“no.”
it was an attempt.
he huffs in defeat, now kneading at your chest for some comfort.
“okay.”
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© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.
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roweclementine · 8 days
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dropout.tv cast members ranked by how likely I think they are to be temporary Game Changer host when they eventually make an episode where they surprise Sam by hijacking the show
8. Zac: it would be funny
7. BDG: I just want him to be on the show more ok
6. Grant: (more) payback for breaking news and like my coffee
5. Lou: Greenroom/Party Bus victim
4. Vic: I just want them to be on the show more too
3. Trapp: was a bingo victim, has game show host experience, is really good at improv
2. Siobhan: was in the hi welcome to the show surprise I’ve locked you in a room now solve my puzzles episode and the time loop episode
1. Brennan: do I even need to explain.
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mike-wachowski · 10 months
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17 18 & 19 :0)
hi dee !!! fancy seeing you round these parts
17: What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?
i did answer this in birdies ask but i will say another thing i ended up learning alot about was the NYU undergraduate and graduate school of Business for the kate/yelena fic im currently working on that you know about (for anyone curious, i do have a sneak peak to that fic i posted a while back here)
18: What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?
oh god this is so hard. the first one that comes to mind is this line from the game night fic, which for me is like the perfect amount of soft and punchy:
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but i also have to spread some love to the "fruit cutting monologue" that i wrote for the final scene in that fic as well:
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but of course i cannot mention anything from game night fic without shouting out my lovely friend bench @thebluewritingbench who is truly the most incredible author and the perfect writing partner who brings out the best of my skills and puts worms in my brain, without whom i could have never reached into the itchiest parts of my skull to write lines like this
19: Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.
ohhhh i dont know which one to pick !!! I feel like you would like another peak at the kate/yelena au but what I’m ACTUALLY gonna do is tease my next fic after I finish rival chefs hehe
It’s a supercorp high fantasy au, Lena is a princess and Kara and the superfriends are a group of rebel fighters trying to stop Lex from conquering the world !! very high stakes very drama very enemies to lovers
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fic writer asks
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schmidtsbimbo · 5 months
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★ Older bf Mike Schmidt Headcanons ★
𖦹 Warnings: afab reader, pet names, slightly suggestive, age gap relationship, perv!mike if you squint
⋆。°‧Requests are open! Comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated ♡
―୨୧⋆ ˚ A/N: thinking about older bf mike has had my brain mushy all day and I had to get it out of my system so this is super short , this has not been proofread ^_^
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Olderbf!mike who isn’t too much into pda but still holds your hand because he knows you love it, occasionally wrapping his arms around your waist or shoulders when he’s feeling a little bolder. However, when you’re both alone he cannot keep his hands off of you. He’ll sneak up behind you while you’re cooking and snake his hands around your waist from behind, his head resting in the crook of your neck. When he’s driving his unoccupied hand is always resting on your thigh, his thumb gently rubbing small circles against your skin.
Olderbf!mike who loves how different your aesthetics are. You show up to gatherings in pink tracksuits or small skirts and tight shirts, mike trailing behind you in his blue jeans and grey zip up sweater. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom in a plain T-shirt and boxers while you’re doing your makeup, admiring the way you apply your favorite pink lipstick on your lips and the way you bat your eyes in the mirror after applying mascara
Olderbf!mike who almost never calls you by your actual name. He calls you all sorts of names like sweetheart, baby, princess, and his absolute favorite name to call you being pretty girl. so much so that he has it as your contact name on his phone. He used to be a little hesitant to call you any of these names in public but three months in any trace of hesitation was gone
Olderbf!mike who is incredibly overprotective at times. After the Garrett incident he can’t even fathom losing you too, if you go anywhere he’ll be right by your side. Nail appointment? Random shopping trip? Hair appointment? He’s right there trailing right behind you. If for whatever reason he can’t go with you, he bought you some pepper spray that you thought was a little excessive but he insisted on it because “you never know”
Olderbf!mike who secretly eats up the age gap between you two. Sure, when he found out your age he was a little hesitant about the whole thing but it certainly didn’t stop him. He still gets a little sheepish when you drag him out to hang out with your friends and he realizes the age difference really does affect some of your interests
Olderbf!mike who can’t help but sneak a glance up your skirt when you drop something and bend over to pick it up. He can never keep his eyes off you, especially when you wear low cut shirts. He thinks you don’t notice but you definitely do. You’re almost teasing him and using it to your advantage when you notice, wearing something a little provocative when you want a small favor from him
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aenramsden · 2 months
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The following is not my idea; it was the original brainchild of a friend of mine named Omicron, with help from various others including EarthScorpion, TenfoldShields, @havocfett and ShintheNinja:
So, you know what I want to do one day? Run (or play in) a D&D campaign in which the Big Bad Super Dragon that is fuckoff ancient and unfathomably powerful and whose actions have shaped history and bent the course of nations and had repercussions on the whole culture and society in the region where it's set; the Bonus Special Boss for some endgame optional quest after you defeat the direct BBEG and win the campaign...
... is a white dragon.
To explain this for people not deep into 5e monster lore; D&D dragons are sapient beings, and known for their instincts and tendencies, and whenever you meet an big evil dragon that's really old it's usually this ancient creature of terrible intellect Smaug-ing it up all over the place.
Except white dragons are fucking stupid. Like, they're still capable of speech and thought! They're just… feral, hungry morons. And you almost never see them portrayed as ancient wyrms for that reason; they lack majesty. Critical Role did it, yes, but even then, Vorugal is explicitly the most bestial member of the Chroma Conclave, and the others are the more intelligent planners and long-term threats. An ancient white as a nation-defining endboss, though; not a thug for a smarter master but as the strongest and biggest threat around is just not the sort of thing you tend to see.
Adventurers: "Oh wise Therunax the Munificent, gold dragon of Law and Good, what can you tell us adventurers of the evil dragons which rule this land?" Therunax the Munificent, 500-year old Gold Dragon: "Good adventurers, know this: this land is torn apart by the evil of Tiamat's spawn. The eastern marches are the dwelling of Furinar the Plague-Bringer, black dragoness whose hoard is a thousand sicknesses contained in the body of her tributes. The southern volcanic mountains are the roosting of Angrar the Wrathful, the fiery red dragon, who brings magmatic fury on all who do not worship him. And the northern peaks are home to Face-Biter Mike, the oldest and most powerful of all, of whom I dread to speak." Adventurers: "F-Face-Biter Mike???" Therunax: "Oh yes, verily indeed; two thousand years has Mike lived, and his eyes have seen the rise and fall of five empires, and a hundred and score champions have sought to slay him; and each and every one he bit their fucking face off."
Like... I want to see a campaign where Face-Biter Mike is genuinely the most powerful dragon in the region, if not the entire world. Where sometimes he descends on a city to grab himself some meatsicles and causes a localised ice age by the beat of his vast wings and the frigid wastes of his mighty breath and by the chill his mere presence brings to everything for miles around him, and everyone just has to deal with that for the next decade. An entire era of civilization comes to an end, an empire falls, tens of thousands starve in the winter, all because Mike wanted a snack. Where his hoard is an unfathomably vast mass of jewels and artefacts and precious stones frozen in an unmelting glacier, except he is a nouveau riche idiot with fuckall appraising skill, so half of his hoard is coloured glass or worthless knicknacks, and he doesn't give a shit.
"Your Draconic Majesty, this crown is… It's pyrite." "Yeah, well, it's brighter than this dusty old thing made out of real gold, it's my new best treasure. Throw the other one away." "…throw the Burnished Tiara of Bahamut, forged in the First Age of Man, your majesty???" "See? I can't even remember its fucking name." "But my lord-" "DO YOU WANT TO BE A MEATSICLE" "…I will fetch a trash bag, your majesty."
But at the same time, he's not stupid, he's just simple, and in some ways that makes him more dangerous than the usual kinds of scheming Big Bad you see in these things, while simultaneously justifying why Orcus remains on his throne (because he's lazy). Face-Biter Mike doesn't make convoluted plans or run labyrinthine schemes; he just has a talent for violence and a pragmatic, straightforward approach to turning any kind of problem he struggles with into a problem that can be resolved with violence. Face-Biter Mike has one talent and it's horrifying physical power, so his approach to any complicated problem is "how do I turn this into a situation where I can fly down and bite this dude's face off?" with absolutely no regard for the collateral damage or consequences of doing so, because those are also things he can turn into face-bitable problems.
"My lord, the dread necromancer Nikodemion is using his undead dragons to attempt a conquest of the eastern kingdom; his agents are everywhere, his plans are centuries in the making, what can we do against such a mastermind?" "I'm gonna fly over the capital and eat the eastern king." "M-my lord???" "The kingdom will collapse without leadership, Nikodemion will win his war, he'll take the capital and crown himself king." "And that helps us… how?" "Once he does I'll fly over to the capital and eat him." "…" "This is why you advisors all suck. You're all about convoluted plans when the only thing I need to win is know where my enemy is so I can fly down there and eat him. Stop overthinking things."
And, like, yeah, it's a simplistic plan, but when you're several hundred tons of nigh invincible magical death, you don't need brilliant strategy; the smartest way to win a war is, in this case, the simplest. He's not even all that clever at figuring out the consequences of face-biting, he's just memorised the common consequences of doing so.
(If you want to go all in on Mike being the major mover and shaker in the region; Nikodemion only even has a pet zombie dragon because Mike killed the last dragon to show up and contest his turf but wasn't going to eat a whole dragon by himself. Nikodemion got to stick around and amass that much power because Mike ate the Hero of the Realm while he was adventuring because he figured the Hero would come and try to slay him at some point. Nikodemion got started because Mike ate half the leadership of the Academy of High Magic who typically keep evil wizards and necromancers in check. And then eventually this product of Mike's casual, careless actions becomes a big enough problem to bother Mike personally, at which point Mike eats him too.)
He doesn't even really fail upwards, either! He is regularly reduced to nothing but the glacier he stores his hoard in, but he's Face-Biter Mike so nobody wants to commit to actually ending him forever lest they get their faces bitten the fuck off. And his hoard's in a huge-ass magical glacier so nobody can get to it without running into the Invading Russia problem; it's hard to wage war when everything is frozen over and you're both starving and freezing to death. Once he's been beaten back to his central lair and has lost all his holdings… I mean, he's still a problem, but he's a far away problem. So he loses his assets and spends a decade in a cave brooding it up while no one dares risk trying to actually kill him, and then a generation or two later he flies down to a kobold colony and gets himself some minions, or a dragon-worshipping mage comes to offer his service against a pittance from his hoard, or a particularly stupid cult starts thinking they can get in good with him and leech off his power, and then he's (hah) snowballing again.
He's also got a very… well, the kind of weird Charisma that Grineer bosses do. Like Sargas Ruk, who's a malformed idiot, but oddly charismatic. As he's a dragon, that makes him a natural sorcerer and thus Charisma is all he needs. He's pretty relaxed when he isn't in a face-biting mood, and he's kind of infectiously optimistic, because his life has taught him that he will succeed as long as he perseveres. So he just believes it.
And sometimes that's really refreshing to work for, as an evil minion of darkness! It's like, you're coming to your Evil Dragon Lord with terrible news; you've worked for evil overlords before, you know how it goes. You fall to your knees weeping and tell him that you've failed to seize the incredibly powerful magical artifact, you think your life is forfeit. And he's just like "Eh, it's okay, these things are all over the place. Better luck next time. You remember the guy who took it, right?" and you go "Y-yes, oh great lord!" and he's like "Sweet tell me his name later and I'll grab it" and then eats a frozen adventurer he kept around as a snack.
His followers tend to quickly realise that if they fail him, bringing some temple's silver or a sack of brightly coloured beads or a couple of dead cows means he's super forgiving because at least he's got something out of the day. "Oh boy, cows? It's been forever since I had those, ever since the Orc Steppe Nomads took over it's all about goats and onions. Today is a good day." He's a master of delegation by dragon standards, in that he just tells you "Just go get it done, I don't care how" rather than micromanaging you and constantly appearing as an image in smoke or taking over your campfire.
The key part of Face-Biter Mike as a threat to players (because he exists in the context of a D&D campaign) works well in that you can rely on several known quantities:
He will not pull sneaky shit that you don't see coming
He will not make convoluted plans that you must work to unravel
He will consistently attempt to come down and wreck you personally if he finds the opportunity and you are a threat to him
You cannot fight him head-on (at least not until the last leg of the campaign, and ideally as an optional boss rather than mandatory)
So as long as you are good at staying under the radar, thwarting his minions (whom he gives broad orders to with almost zero oversight) and not putting yourself in face-biting range, you can deal with him. If you succeed, it won't be the first time Mike has lost his assets and had to go brood in his glacier for a decade or two before rebuilding. It happens; he can deal with it. And that's a win for you within the context of a single campaign, so take the win.
And if you're not going to use him as an enemy, he works pretty well as a quest-giver, too! The costs for failure are obvious and straightforward, and "do whatever, just get me mine" means that players have a lot of freedom in accomplishing their goals. As far as evil overlords go he is actually one of the least dangerous to work for; his pride is relatively subdued by draconic standards, his goals are simple and typically achievable, and he is easily pleased.
(There's also a good chance he is the forefather of any draconic sorcerer in your party, because Face Biter Mike is a deadbeat dad.)
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amidnightjen · 11 months
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And really, that was just uncalled for.
“Hey,” Steve protested, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come on,” Dustin scoffed. “When was the last time you went on a date?”
“Last night.” Obviously.
“That wasn’t a date!” Eddie called from across the room making Dustin shoot Steve a smirk that was deeply patronising.
“I paid for your dinner, we went to a movie and i kissed you goodnight,” Steve yelled back, rather pointedly and without thinking about it.
If he’d thought about it, he might have been paying more attention to the sudden silence in the Wheeler’s basement and not the way Eddie was frowning as he thought over Steve’s words.
“Alright,” Eddie conceded. “You have a point.”
“A point?” Dustin demanded voice high and squeaky and almost completely overriding Wheeler’s “You kissed him goodnight?”
“You went on a date with Eddie?!”
“Yes, Dustin, i went on a date!” Steve snapped triumphantly, completely missing the point.
“With Eddie?” Dustin squawked.
“Yes, with Eddie,” Steve confirmed exasperatedly.
“A guy.” Wheeler had an odd tone that had Steve looking at him funny.
And then he realised what was going on.
He’d just come out to the party in an argument with Dustin.
He’d just come out in an argument with Dustin to the party in the Wheeler’s basement when Robin was not around.
And maybe he should have been focusing on the whole coming out thing, and also possibly the Eddie didn’t know it was a date thing, but mostly he was just a little worried that if he didn’t immediately talk to Robin she was going to kill him for being the last to know.
The paling of Steve’s face must have been spectacular. Eddie was just the only one who seemed to realise why he was freaking out because over the top of Dustin demanding when Steve decided he was into guys he said, “You should probably go tell Robin.”
“Yeah. Yep. Doing that now.”
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sceletaflores · 6 months
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can you write a smut fic with mike x reader where he eats you out?? thank you!!
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Eating In (It's good for you)
pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader
summary: mike is a munch always why would i write anything else???
warnings: 18+!!! NSFW!!! MDI!!! oral sex (f!receving), fingering, squirting (kinda?)
word count: y'all already know 1.3k+
authors note: you guys really speak my language. the beginning of this got a lot fluffier than i was expecting lol still filthy though. 18+ content mdi!!! hope you love it anon mwah <333 also pretty sure i flipped flopped between perspectives sorry babies i'm dumb
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it's no secret that mike lives for eating you out. he could live between your thighs if it was up to him, spending hours drawing out those desperate noises from your lips when he does that thing with his tongue that you love.
the feeling of your hands tugging his hair and your thighs tightening around his head because you just feel so good make his eyes roll back in his head every time he thinks about it.
tonight was no exception, but it was a little different.
as soon as the two of you put abby to bed he was on you. pinning you to his bed as you lazily made out, grinding against each other in slow relaxed motions.
“baby,” mike breathes between kisses, “can you do me a favor?”
you hum in acknowledgement, not wanting to pull away from kissing mike enough to reply.
mike chuckles against your lips, breaking the kiss to nip teasingly at your lips. “i want you to ride my face.” he whispers dirtily, licking a stripe over your lips.
mike watched as his request sinks in, your eyes widening and mouth dropping open just a bit. “mike…” you whisper, he can hear the hesitation in your voice. he can’t have that.
“come on baby, please?” he pleads, moving his hands to rub soft circles into your hips. “you’ll love it, baby. i’ll make it so good for you.”
mike can see the moment your pupils completely dilate, fully swallowing your iris’. your chest heaving as your adrenaline kicks up.
after a beat, you nod slowly. your soft “okay” barely audible, mike grins like he just won the lottery.
“well hop on baby,” mike says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “we don’t have all night.”
mike pulls away, falling on his back on the bed. laying his laced hands on his stomach, waiting patiently for you to give him what he wants.
he waits as you take a steadying breath, gathering up the courage before you rise up and start to shuffle over to him. mikes hungry eyes watch you swing your leg over his lap, making your way up his body.
you stop short, sitting on his stomach with a timid look. mike places two grounding hands on your hips, squeezing them reassuringly.
“you have to tell me if i’m smothering you or something. i don’t need to accidentally kill you.” your hands fidget with the waist of mikes pants nervously.
“what a way to go.” he says wistfully, a dopey grin on his face.
you let out a small laugh, trying and failing to hide your smile. “you’re such an asshole.” you reply, pinching his chest teasingly. your tone is too fond to hold any actual malice. mike laughs back.
finally, you start to shuffle higher up his torso, but he stops you holding your hips in place. “other way, baby.”
it doesn’t take a lot of brain power to understand what he means. you let out a soft moan, a shiver wracks your body. pleasure zings up your spine at how filthy this is.
it’s a little awkward, but you manage to swing your legs around so you're facing the rest of his bedroom, not just the wall. from this angle, you can see how his dick is tenting the front of his loose sleeping pants, a wet spot forming near the tip.
you still only hover over your boyfriend's face instead of truly sitting, scared of hurting him. mike decides not to say anything, too preoccupied with the view directly in-front of him.
“fuck,” mike whispers hotly, staring up at your clothed pussy makes his dick twitch. baby pink lace darkened by how wet you are. he leans up slightly, running his tongue over the rough lace still covering you.
"shit...mike," you shudder, legs trembling on either side of his head.
mike takes his time, laving his tongue over the soaked lace a few times, reveling in your familiar taste, but his patience wears thin. soon enough he's tugging your panties aside to get at what he really wants before returning them to your hips.
mike moans at the sight of your slick pussy, already so wet from his mouth. he can't help but softly run his pointer finger through your folds, gathering your wetness and using it to circle around your clit.
you moan softly, trying your best to be quiet so abby doesn't wake up.
mike stops his fingers assault on your clit, too eager to chase the sight of your convulsing pussy with his mouth, the tip of his tongue sliding easily through your folds. he groans, rubbing his face between your thighs, no doubt covering his nose and chin in the copious amount of wetness leaking from your pussy. he quickly gets lost in the feeling of tasting you, of licking and sucking at your clit making you moan and whine.
"shit!" you exclaim, pitching forward to steady yourself with your hands flat on his chest. the rough feel of his stubble scratching your inner thighs, most likely leaving red marks on the skin there. you hope it'll leave marks, that you'll be able to feel it every time you walk tomorrow, a reminder of what the two of you did tonight.
by now you're white knuckling the front of his shirt as you frantically circle your hips against his face, the bed squeaking quietly under your movements. mike spurs you on with small smacks to your ass, groaning into your pussy with every pass of his tongue over your fluttering hole.
you can feel the vibrations in mike's throat as he fucks you with his tongue, guttural groans making your thighs shake in an attempt to stay upright.
but it's just too much, the onslaught of his tongue making you forget all about your earlier insecurity, and you fully lower yourself onto his mouth too caught up in your pleasure to even hold yourself up anymore.
mike's eyes widen in surprise at you seating yourself on his face, moaning way too loudly at how hot it is to see you lose control.
"fuck! feels so good, mike," you slur, head hanging down to your chest, hair falling around your face. "mph- mike - ah, ah, ah,"
you realize you're going to come like this, riding mike's face like you're starved for it. you can feel it, the warmth settling deep in your belly. flames licking there way up your body.
mike realizes it too apparently, because he latches his mouth over your clit and plunges two fingers into your clenching pussy, thrusting them in and out quickly.
the lewd squelching noises that fill the room make your cheeks burn in embarrassment. 
“holy fucking shit! mike fuck!” you moan, trying desperately to control your volume. “i’m gonna come, oh fuck.” mike moans in respines, speeding up both his tongue and fingers.
the combination of mike’s tongue rapidly flicking over your clit and thick fingers expertly hitting your g-spot every thrust pushes you over the edge. one final suck to your clit has you coming all over mike’s face. drenching the lower part of his face in your juices and soaking up the dirty groans mike makes as he sucks up every last drop.
mike pulls away from you clit, and takes his fingers out of your pussy to let you come down from your orgasm. kissing across the inside of your thighs as you shake and tremble above him.
after a few shuddering breaths, you lift up and off mike’s face to collapse onto the mattress next to him. the two of you lay next to each other staring up at the ceiling, panting out wet breaths as you come down.
you turn to mike, his lips are slick and red. lower half of his face shining with your come, eyes half-open and hazy. you lift your hand to trial your finger down his body, making your way to the waist of his sleeping pants riding low on his hips showing off his dark happy trail. your hand slides lower to the ever still present hard-on tenting his pants obscenely, rubbing over his erect dick with purpose.
“your turn?”
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taglist!
@yuenity @ebodebo @mfdxz
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murdrdocs · 6 months
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riding mike's face while he jerks off.
him with his tongue out, shaking his head side to side just a bit, providing a nice change of friction for you. he smiles when your moan changes pattern, an infliction there that lets him know he's done the right thing. his eyes are closed, he's basking in the moment, and his hand is pumping fiercely around his cock.
he's been at it like this for a while now, edging himself and refusing to let go until you do. it's why he sets his tongue out completely, his other hand blindly grabbing your hips and tugging you forward with enough force that communicates his want to you.
you start getting yourself off, grinding and jerking your hips how you like it, your clit bumping against mike's nose with each glide. he likes being used like this. he likes to know that you're getting off on him, that's he's making you feel like this.
it has him moaning pitifully beneath you, vibrations against your cunt alerting you. you push his hair back, his eyes opening with the gentle touch. his eyebrows pinch together, his eyes widen, his blunt nails dig into your ass cheek. all signs of an impending orgasm.
"you close?" you ask him. he nods as best as he can, the movement minute but still there. "me too." your hands grip his hair, your hips speeding up just a bit. "can you cum for me, baby? please?"
it's barely even a second later when you feel a drop or two of warm liquid against your lower back, instantly trailing down to your ass. when you glance back, you see that mikes pillowy abdomen caught the most of it and it shines prettily in the lamp light, contorting with the bend and stretch of mike's stomach that is created by his manual breathing.
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