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talesofadragon · 10 months

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𝟓𝟎 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

Summary: In a twist of fate, the seemingly heartless and enigmatic Draco Malfoy found himself falling deeply in love. His affection for Y/N knew no bounds, but he couldn't resist the temptation to test her patience. However, when he succumbs to the advances of a particular Slytherin girl, he soon realizes that he may have gotten more than he bargained for.

Warnings: Sexual themes. Minors DNI.

Pairing: Draco x Reader

Genre: Fluff | Smut

Word count: 2.1K

All Masterlists | Draco Malfoy Masterlist

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰. Unapologetically and effortlessly, those people embrace the lackluster, emanating an aura that brings the moons and the stars of the universe to their knees.

Draco Malfoy fell into that category.

In the middle of the raging lights and the tumultuous fray, he sat back in the dark corner of the Slytherin Common Room, leisurely sipping a glass of Firewhiskey. At first glance, he was imposing. Veiny fingers, undoubtedly dexterous in their deathly ministrations. A chiseled jaw that commanded obedience from every man. And eyes that, although we’re mesmerizing pools of silver, held a hint of acidic intensity with every gaze.

Draco Malfoy was thought to be darkness in human form. Perhaps several individuals would concur, whether out of fascination or apprehension. But that was because none of them saw him through my eyes.

In his nights, I saw the moon. In his shades of obsidian, I found depths unknown. In his prowess, I sought the nightjar, whose darkened plumage painted my soul with a mesmerizing array of vibrant hues.

And I despised, abhorred, anyone who dared to try and get close enough to bask in his glow.

“Y/N, sometimes I regret ever introducing you to Draco,” Clarissa remarked. I shot her an unimpressed glance. She continued dancing without missing a beat, leaving me the only one standing idle in the middle of a crowded room. “You have that devilish look in your eyes.”

“Well, the she-devil has her eyes, and hands, all over him.”

Clarissa's lips twitched, forming an amused grin. Her gaze shifted towards the girl with dark hair and an extremely form-fitting dress, which left little to the imagination, who shamelessly ran her hand along my boyfriend's arm.

“He’s not even looking at her.”

“He’s letting her touch him!”

“He’s not.” She rolled her eyes, brushing off the comment. One of her hands took mine, urging me to dance to the upbeat tone of the music that engulfed us. “He’s looking at you and is most likely enjoying getting under your skin.”

“He’s being a dick,” I groaned in frustration. Clarissa was giving me her “well duh” expression.

“He’s Draco. If you ask about him, you’ll have a porn site worth of dick picks and stories that perfectly describe your aggravating boyfriend.”

I arched an eyebrow, subconsciously convincing myself that it was a common behavior and not something unique to Draco. “Remind me again what his relationship to your boyfriend is. Oh, that’s right, he’s his brother.”

“Atlas is a sweetheart! Sometimes, I sincerely think he was adopted,” she argued.

“Clearly not,” I countered. I nudged my head toward the table, catching sight of the girl in the navy dress leaning her body closer to my boyfriend’s chest. “If he’s licking his lips at the sight of that girl’s cleavage.”

Clarissa whipped her head at the speed of light. I was surprised her neck didn’t snap. Her rage immediately molded into distaste when she noticed that Atlas wasn’t licking his lips as I said, but he was straining his neck, attempting to look away from the boob job that was begging for attention.

“She’s a bitch.”

“As am I,” I replied swiftly. Clarissa frowned, glancing back at me. By that time, the sound of my heels clicking against the marble floor had already begun, even though the music drowned out their noise.

Draco seemed impervious to the blaring musical notes as his silver eyes locked onto mine, capturing my movement. He had the audacity to smirk against the rim of his glass, going as far as to open the palm of his hand, indulging in the girl’s ministrations.

Atlas, seated on the same couch as his brother but a few feet away, wore a bemused expression. He bit his lip, gaze wandering between me and Clarissa, who was trailing after me.

As I crossed the two steps that separated me from my boyfriend, the harsh clicking of my heels echoed through the room. The blush on my cheeks seemed to mirror the hue of my dress, drawing attention toward me. Perfect, I inwardly mused, locking eyes with Draco. He observed my every move with his now grey irises, resembling a tempestuous landscape anticipating the thunder to unleash its chaos.

Confident and without a hint of hesitation, I made my way to his table, disregarding the curious onlookers, the girl with longing eyes, and even our friends. Choosing to ignore them all, I straddled his lap, allowing our lips to collide.

He must have expected my harshness or maybe my fire, but it was clear that he hadn’t anticipated my dominance. Draco Malfoy faltered, proved by the sound of the glass shattering on the floor and the shrieks of the nameless woman beside us.

One of his hands fisted the fabric of my dress, clinging to the small of my back, while the other slithered into my hair. My hands, on the other hand, assaulted his neck. One wrapped itself around it while the other trekked down his collarbone, swiftly uncaging the second button of his shirt.

As expected, Draco tried to dominate the kiss, attempting to force my tongue into submission. And while on a regular day, when my body was electrified by the dominance of his touch and my consciousness succumbed to the pressure of his pleasuring body, I would have relented. Today was anything but a regular one.

I pushed past the overwhelming ecstasy that clouded my racing thoughts, attempting to transform them into incoherent murmurs, and assaulted Draco’s tongue. His hands began to trail my body, the one in my hair errantly moving towards my own neck.

Immediately, I tightened my hold around his neck, restricting him further from the air we both so desperately craved. He gasped, hands falling to my waist and clutching me tighter. I teased him, bringing my lips close to his, allowing him to steal the breath coming out of my own mouth and greedily take it for himself.

It lasted no more than two seconds because I knew this was a punishment and not a reward. I dove in again. Tongue-first, exploring the walls and ceiling of his mouth. Draco couldn’t keep his own tongue at bay, and I didn’t want him to. Before he could coax me into accepting his sensual offer, I let go of his lower lip and sucked on his tongue.

Draco moaned. A sound that was both undiluted and unrestrained; I was sure he had forgotten where he was. His hips jolted, searching for friction. And when I didn’t grant it willingly, his hand found my thighs and hoisted me up until I was shamelessly grinding on him.

“Moan for me,” he commanded huskily, voice breaking at the seams from being a captive of pleasure.

I didn’t just want to moan. I wanted to roar from the way his crotch caressed my clothed pussy, squeezing the juices out of me and letting them trail down my thighs.

But I didn’t. “Moan for me,” I rebuked, letting my fingers cradle the nape of his neck, pulling on his silver locks. Another moan rippled through the air, reaching my clit. And I knew if I didn’t stop any time soon, I would be the one moaning and begging on this very couch. “Good boy.”

Draco’s eyes widened at the remark, his sharp eyes piercing mine. Immediately, I let go of him, standing up.

I dusted my dress, adjusting the neckline which almost exposed my breasts completely. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” I commented with feigned innocence. This particular area only had a handful of students huddled around, and the one closest to us was a mere few feet away. The girl beside my boyfriend, Pansy Parkinson, didn't need an education to understand that I was directing my words at her.

Her jaw ticked, breath coming out ragged—maybe she was having a sex marathon in her head, getting off on the thought of my boyfriend and me. “I wish I hadn’t seen you at all,” she conceded, hastily scurrying away.

As she left, I saw Clarissa standing behind me. A shadow of confusion crossed over her features, quickly replaced by amusement. “Well, now that she’s gone. Why don’t we give Draco a few minutes to hide that bulge he’s sporting? Atlas, wanna dance?”

“After what just happened, I won't let any chance slip away to have you close to me, Clares.” He wasted no time getting up. He side-eyed his brother for a moment, unable to hide his smirk. “Here.” Atlas reached out for his Elf Wine, extending it to Draco. “You look flushed. Why don’t you cool off a bit like a good boy?”

Ignoring our collective laughter, Draco swatted the glass away from his face. He regarded me with an air of irritation, his pupils heavily dilated.

“Remember when I warned you that it’s much harder for men to mask their wants? Bet you wish you were less of a dick now,” I taunted, earning myself a loud cheer from Atlas and an uproarious laugh from Clarissa.

Draco had yet to say anything, and I knew he was meticulously considering the retributions he would inflict upon me for this audacious move. But I didn’t care. With a skip in my step, I turned around and strutted away. But before I could make my grand escape, a hand firmly wrapped around my wrist, halting my movements. In the blink of an eye, I was flung onto the couch, landing right where my boyfriend had been sitting just seconds before.

“Draco!” Atlas chastised. He was already taking a step forward, visibly astounded by his brother’s brisk action. Even Clarissa was worried.

But I wasn’t.

Draco didn’t spare either of them a glance as he let his gaze fall onto mine. The pools of silver were sizzling, menacing, and fierce—ready to consume me whole. But they were also lustrous, encasing ardent desire. And I found myself getting far more aroused than afraid by the visceral passion they exuded.

Draco took three meaningful steps toward me, his agile strides reminding me that I was the prey to his snake. He stopped at a short distance, letting one of his hands extend to the back of the couch while the other casually reached for an abandoned shot on our table.

“Open that sinful mouth of yours, Y/N.” I obeyed. Because if I didn’t, I would self-combust. Screw whatever punishment the devil has for me. I would take it without another word if it meant relieving some of that desire between my legs. “Good girl. Take it all, but don’t you dare swallow yet,” Draco demanded as he filled my mouth with the electrifying drink.

My eyes welled up, stinging from the searing pain that consumed my mouth and pierced my heart, yet I resisted the urge to close them. Draco disregarded the empty shot glass and tenderly stroked my cheek with his free hand. The weight of the onlookers' gazes bore down on us, but I felt a profound sense of gratitude that the Malfoys were influential and esteemed enough that no one would dare intervene in what they were witnessing.

I squeaked when Draco took my cheek between his fingers and forced the burning drink outside of my mouth. I could feel my heart shuddering as the liquid trailed down my neck to my chest and the valley of my breasts.

I couldn’t stop staring at Draco while desperately clenching my thighs. Of course, he was too engrossed with the trek the alcohol was taking down my body.

“Draco,” I whined, practically begging for his touch. The bastard smirked, ever so slowly coming closer.

“Starshine,” he breathed against my breasts. Immediately, his hand sneaked down, reaching for my thighs. His fingers dug deep into my skin. I moaned, then I cried out in pleasure when his tongue darted out of his mouth, tracing the remains of the alcohol all the way from my chest to my mouth. He hovered over my lips, his silent exhale caressing my mouth. “If I were any less of a dick, I’m sure you’d still cry out for me.”

He pushed himself off my body, the sheer abruptness of his actions causing me to wince. “Wh—”

“Go dance, Y/N,” he said. No, he dared. It was obvious what he was doing. Bold and bright in the middle of the night. He knew I needed him, craved him. And he reveled in the thought.

So, I did what any sane woman would do. I straightened my hair, fixed my clothes, and rushed to his arms. “I wanna dance with you,” I whispered against his lips. He met mine in a sensual dance, and before I knew it, he was already leading me out of the Common Room and into his arms.

Draco Taglist:

@imabee-oralizard @ameliaphoenix @arcana-greenleaf @dittos-blog-dylanobrien

So this happened unexpectedly. Slightly inspired by that one scene from Culpa Mia (My Fault). Hope y’all like it.💚

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco smut #draco malfoy smut #draco x reader smut

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justabigassnerd · 4 months

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Introducing...

a Bradley Bradshaw x reader series

summary - while in the final stages of recovery after a mission gone wrong, Bradley signs himself up to work at a summer camp just for something to do since Maverick has barred him from Navy work for the time being. meanwhile, you're in between jobs and figure working at a summer camp is some good experience. you meet Bradley and experience a romance you could've never expected (along with some very nosy kids)

I want to thank @callsign-dexter and @maverick-wingman for fully enabling me and encouraging me through practically everything let's be real here

I'm still fine-tuning the details so I don't have a predicted release date for the first chapter yet but I thought I'd do a little official announcement since I've never done anything like this before like I've never actually planned a series like this before so I'm excited!!

much love <3

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd rambles #summer of love #summer of love universe #top gun #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster #rooster x reader

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awanderingtortoise · 2 months

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i really love how much jack and belle complement each other with how polar their strengths and weaknesses are. it goes so deep into the relationship but ill discuss two examples: for one, the learning styles. so belle's very theoretical/educated approach as to jack's experience-based and hands-on learning. jack is very much hands on, kinesthetic, and experiential in his learning. thats because of his circumstances, not just the fact that hes dyslexic and really struggles to learn text-wise, though thats a factor. life in london with fagin-- from the beginning he had to learn on his feet. thievery is very much a hands on learning thing. then he goes on TRANSFERRING those skills of quick thinking, adaptability and quick fingers when he is thrust all of a sudden into surgery and war in the navy. thats really proof of how intelligent he is, that speed of learning and transferring skills, though its not a 'traditional' kind of smart. his physical dexterity is very much echoed in his mental dexterity, an aspect i love in how his character was built.

BELLE, on the other hand, total opposite. she literally cant get experience; shes a woman, shes a governor's daughter expected to live and act like a proper woman. though her headstrong nature and the way she swings around her privilege like a flaming torch lets her get experience later, she spent most of her pre-show life learning from books because that was the only resource she had. she's educated, she's rich, and she's really really smart and really really determined, so she CAN and WILL learn.

another thing is their worldview. belle's very much visionary and idealistic, jack is a realist. theyre both limited by society (not EQUALLY, and not in the same way, but they are both limited by society), but they respond in opposite, and equally flawed but valid ways, and its literally only with each other that they are able to balance out that response to the world and be the best they can be. they learn from eachother: belle gets a crash course in the reality of abusive governance and empathy for the realities of the lower class, jack is able to open his eyes to how much he can initiate change on the global scale with his skill.

belle's upbringing makes it so she has the social power and desire to fight and advocate for herself, something evident from the moment she threatened jack in episode 1 (essentially 'teach me or go to jail, fucker'). now the morals of that im not going to get into, but its a kind of power jack never had. because poverty. hence his complacency to hospital standards he doesnt agree with, because while belle can afford to fuck around and find out, he could lose his job with a single misstep.

BUT BUT BUT, with her at his side; his experience plus her social status and her idealistic vision for the world, theyre able to do SO MUCH GOOD! for the world, for eachother. she pushes him and he balances her out and opens her eyes to reality. he doesnt shatter her idealism but shes exposed for the first time to the dark side of the system her father runs: why people steal, why its not as morally black and white as theyd like her to think. but they literally couldnt do any of this: the revolutionary surgeries, the personal development, without eachother.

they change each other, irreversibly, for the better. thats a powerful relationship.

#dodgerfox #tortoise analysis #brainrot oh god #the artful dodger #jack dawkins #belle fox

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dyingenigma · 2 years

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The DROP 2/22 by AMINA MUADDI shot by Dexter Navy

#amina muaddi #iman hammam #dexter navy #shoes #shoe brands #shoe inspo #fashion #fashion trends #cairo egypt #shoesoftheday #photography #photoshoot #feet

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beansidhebumbling · 5 months

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Any chance of a Nesta x Eris drabble?

Let me know what to think. As tends to be the case I lost control of the length.

Warning!: smut

Patience and Other Vices

His hand glances over hers at dinner.

It's an accident. She's been so studious in her avoidance of his gaze, his presence, the mere mention of his name since the announcement. Tonight and this brief touch are just another in the long list of regrets he surely ties to her name.

He reaches for the pitcher of water just as she does and their fingers brush.

He has the hands of a pianist, dexterous, elongated, agile when they play on the keys, when they play with her.

And how he played her.

***

Their eyes catch.

He's thinking of that night too.

She knows as his eyebrows furrow, light colour tinting high cheekbones, left hand clenching his fork in a death grip as his right lingers- outstretched and alone.

If he is striking in sunlight, he is devastating in candlelight, the sharp cut of his jaw and his glare cast shadows, even as the rich red tones of his hair burn and flicker under the gentle wavering glow of the candelabra.

***

Long fingers pump inside her in a rhythm she chases but cannot catch as her head falls back on the rich navy velvet shoulder of his tailcoat.

'Please... God in heaven please.'

Gasping and breathy, a more sincere prayer than any she has ever offered on a Sunday.

He lets out a low chuckle.

'That's not my name, sweetest. Plead to me, look only to me or I may take note from your God and be very cruel indeed.'

And when he stops the infernal masterful movement, she finds herself possessed, for that is the only reason Nesta would be compelled to beg him.

The plaintive cry that leaves is a sound foreign to her ears,

'Please my Lord. Do not stop or I may die and take my spot in Hell alongside you.'

She squirms in his lap, attempting to create her own friction. Her cunt, as he calls it, as he taught her, is stretched and hot over his blasted unmoving fingers.

Cunt.

The word looks blunt and crude on paper, in the secret letters sends. But when said by him it sounds more like treasure, more like covet. The word dripping in awe and adoration.

She is full in a way she never achieves with her own tender nocturnal explorations. He taught her this too, the importance of self-exploration, coaxing her to find herself in the wet messy flush of carnal pleasure.

He pinches her right nipple with his free hand, brief and chastising.

'This is a lesson in patience Nesta. You are learning to wait for me.'

Another mean twist, this time to her left nipple.

'And you still haven't said my name.'

'Eris.

Eris.

Eris.'

Each gasp is breathier than the last. She loves the familiar shape of his name, how it falls from her tongue.

A confession no deity could pry from her.

'Good girl.'

The dance of his fingers inside her continues once more.

A reward.

And she thinks maybe he needs no confession when her loud moan at his praise is a sure equivalent.

'Look at you. Beautiful and bared like Venus for me.'

He pulls her hair so she is once more looking in the mirror at the wanton naked figure that is splayed across the Duke of Vanserra's clothed form.

His fine leather boots still gleam under moonlight.

He reduces her to this wild, unkempt thing. Hair undone, blood rising to her cheeks, her chest, eyes glazed and starry.

But if it is a reduction why does she feel like so much more when held in his arms?

She comes apart with the practiced thrum of his thumb on her button, his name the only chant she knows as her mind whirls and galaxies fall apart and come together again behind her eyes.

She sees love in the kisses he presses on her collarbone, in the gentle pass of a washcloth along her centre and thighs, in the delicate way he redresses her in her nightwear before sneaking out the window, a thief in the night, her heart buried between his and navy velvet.

***

She is patient.

Patient when his nightime visits and secret letters stop suddenly.

Patient in her rejection of those who come to call, to plead for the privilege of a promenade.

Nesta Archeron, the diamond of the town, is patient a full week until word of his engagement to Lady Morrigan Velaris reaches the breakfast table, gossip spilled between tea sips and flaky pastry. A most advantageous match. Very likely to be the wedding of the season.

When Nesta retires with a migraine she goes unnoticed. Her tears, salty and unceasing, flow onto her pillow, heartbreak and rage released like a river, like a flood.

The smell of pine and leather and tobacco lingers even now.

She burns her bedsheets.

***

She is no longer patient.

The deluge of letters returns, multiple daily, even when he doesn't dare show his face.

Unread they join the ash of her bed linen in the grate.

And when Lord Cassian, still a little too loud, a little too slow, brings her flowers, yellow roses with no hidden messages, she accepts them with a smile.

He never makes her feel more, but he never makes her feel less.

Her engagement is announced the same day the dissolution of Eris' is published in the gossip sheet.

***

She sees him at church.

Gaunt and sickly, stress marked in the crease of his forehead, the anguish of his gaze.

The burn of his stare does not relent through the sermon and she wonders if this is her damnation.

Because despite it all she longs to smooth the wrinkle of his forehead, hear the low timbre of his voice.

***

He attempts to knock on the balcony of her room that night.

When she wakes the house with screams about intruders he does not try again.

***

She should have guessed he'd somehow finangle a way to Lord Cassian's dinner.

She thought it safe considering the still smoking wreckage of his dalliance with Morrigan.

She underestimated his cunning and unflappable shamelesness as he bats off Lord Rhysand's increasingly cutting remarks about failed nuptials with all the ease of breathing.

When the men depart into the smoking room she seizes her chance to catch a breath in the conservatory.

He finds her.

Of course.

***

She is alone all of thirty seconds before she hears the urgent clap of boots on the tiled floor.

He confronts her by the orange tree, his eyes frantic and jaw tight.

'Nesta.'

Her name sounds like a prayer.

Her response stops his urgent pace towards her.

'My Lord, I'd advise you to return to the party before you are missed and warn you against using my name with such impropriety in future.'

Her tone is clipped, words measured, as her heart bleeds within its cavity.

'I...'.

A speechless Eris Vanserra is a new sight to her.

She takes her chance at escape, dipping so shallowly it hardly bears the definition of a curtsey, she begins to walk away, heading towards the ruckus of laughter and chatter.

A thud causes her to turn, skirts twisting around her frame with the sudden movement.

He kneels, shoulders hunched and face bent to the floor.

'Nes-my darling. I beg of you, have mercy and stab me before you once more deprive me of the honour of company.'

'My Lord, cease the melodramatics and rise this instant.'

She snaps.

'Anyone could walk in, you fool.'

He huffs a strangled laugh, maimed with pain.

'I'm a fool you're talking to, my love. Beter shade a fool than every other colour I've been'

He looks at her then and God save her he's crying.

How dare he?

The fury that churns within her is only matched by the sorrow that threatens to expose itself in the faultlines of her masked expression.

'Get up Eris. This is a misery of your own design. You used me and discarded me. I will put up with no further humiliation.'

The light that sparks in his eyes when she uses his name dies quickly as the proceeding words hit him like blows. He flinches but still holds her gaze, like he fears she may disappear if he blinks.

A valid fear to hold.

'Did you.. did you read even one of my letters, my Lady?'

She arches an eyebrow, disdainful at the question and her premature rise in rank. It's answer enough.

His next words are rushed, fearful she'll leave before he finishes she imagines. That is her plan but she finds her feet glued to the spot as he continues, tripping over words, voice shaky.

'It was an arrangement by my thrice-cursed father, still haunting me beyond the grave. I asked you to be patient while I tried to sort it discretely. I thought you'd never have to know, to worry. Rhysand forced my hand and I was engaged and by the time I escaped it you were ...'

He gulps, shaking his head, long hair moving like silk, like he is trying to dispel the reality.

'I...I kick myself for not telling you before. It haunts me, every missed opportunity to propose to you, to do it the messy way, cleverness be damned. I'll die sick and bitter that I squandered my chance to be yours. But I cannot have you ignore me like this anymore.'

He stands then. Makes his way towards her, pulling her hands, that must have clasped around her mouth at some point, towards him, grasping them like they hold his salvation.

'I will be whoever you want me to be, Nesta. I have proposed marriage, friendship, acquaintance in my letters, poured my soul to you in pretty words, calculated and considered to try and redeem myself. I am unprepared while struck stupid in your presence. I only have these clumsy pleas but do not question their sincerity when since the moment I've met you I've loved you. Since your first barbed comment my heart has been yours. I will be anything but do not make me a stranger. Grant me this, I beg. I will kneel if you wish. I would risk it all to have you look at me softly once again.'

Her heart escapes between the faultlines as a tear falls down her face.

His right hand reaches, outstretched and alone, hovering, shaking by her face.

She turns her head to kiss his palm.

She feels his pulse beneath her lips.

Patience is recovered in quiet citrus-scented air.

#neris #nesta #eris #i am sick #so if there are loads of mistakes #no there's not #acotar #regency #gemwrites

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slasherhoe87 · 1 year

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Good Morning Honey🥰

I hope you have a good rest of the week🖤🥺

I was wondering Dark! Stepdad Michael x f| reader where Michael has been dating your mother for months and a year he's moved in with you two he starts a relationship with you while mother goes out for work or a trip away for work and something happens, I love your blog <3

Thanks Megan, you as well 😊😉

Man, did this idea make me smirk. I'll give it my best shot - hope you'll like it!

Dark!Stepdad OG Michael Myers (set in modern day) x Fem Reader

Warnings: Cheating / Age Gap: Michael is 38 and Reader is 19

NSFW / MDNI

You looked down into the back yard through your bedroom window with utter dread. Your mom had invited a bunch of her friends and some select few family members for a Saturday afternoon bbq and you were not looking forward to mingling with them.

You knew the same questions would be fired at you, such as have you found work yet? have you met anyone special? i hope you help your mom around the house? when last have you seen your dad? Then they'll go back to ignoring you and carry on with their insipid conversations about their marriages and work life. As always. Leaving you to sit there like a stooge with no one to talk to.

You at least managed to get out of the first hour or so of the bbq by lying to your mom that you had a headache and that you just wanted to take a pill and have a bit of a sleep so that the medication could work before you join everyone for lunch. She believed you, to your own surprise, as the 'ol headache excuse was one of the oldest in the book.

Michael of course was not so lucky. He could not escape the dull chore of domestic entertainment and socializing that was a bbq this time around. Usually the moment mom mentioned the words 'friends', 'family' and 'coming over' Michael would disappear for a day or two and your mom had to make up stories as to his whereabouts.

You had a giggle to yourself as you spied Michael standing with the men around the grill, an apple cider in hand and a 'dear god please kill me now' expression on his usually stoic face.

You looked at him for a bit longer, admiring how the navy tshirt he wore stretched across his broad chest and shoulders, how his black jeans hugged his shapely thighs and ass.

You always felt guilty when you looked at and thought about Michael in any way other than platonic. The Shape of Haddonfield was your mother's boyfriend after all. Lusting after the serial killer seemed wrong for so many reasons.

But you simply couldn't help it. He was too compelling, too darkly alluring, too physically attractive. He reminded you of a jungle cat - beautiful and svelte, dexterous and strong and so very enchanting to gaze upon. But he was also deadly and dangerous, an apex predator. Death in human form - the boogeyman. And that made him all the more alluring for you. Your mom obviously felt the same, otherwise she'd have run for the hills by now.

Michael must have felt eyes on him as you jerked slightly when you again looked at his face and found him staring up and right at you. His usual blank expression was back in place but his eyes always held so much emotion that he didn't need to use any expressions.

His head tilted a bit to the left as if asking why you weren't down there suffering alongside him. You took pity on the murderous man and decided that you had hidden away in your bedroom for long enough.

Let's just get this started and over with

You looked at Michael one last time before you left your bedroom and made your way downstairs, passing a gaggle of your mom's friends who were gossiping and giggling about who-know's-what. You gave them a quick hello and a wave and rolled your eyes as you exited out of the living room's sliding door and out into the back garden.

You were immediately accosted by your two overbearing aunts with their obedient and wimpy husbands trailing after them. They of course bombarded you with the usual questions, judgement in their eyes and fake interest and sincerity dripping from their tongues. All they wanted was gossip fodder and you were glad your life was relatively boring and free of anything to gossip over.

Realizing this, your aunts quickly ended the "conversation" and stalked off to a couple of your mom's friends. You huffed and walked over to the grill, intending to save Michael from his torment.

Before you could take another step forward your mom intercepted you and blocked your view of the handsome man with the butterscotch curls and intense stormy blue eyes.

"y/n sweetie, Angela is driving me crazy with her tales of her and Peter's trip to the UK - she's expecting me back to hear about their casino trip disaster asap. God I just can't get away. Please go to the kitchen and finish making the potato salad - I just managed to cut them into cubes before she found me and dragged me away" your mom huffed and rubbed her temples.

You chuckled and nodded before gesturing to your aunts. "Try sending her and Peter to aunt Yvette and aunt Miranda - they'll keep each other busy for hours with their gossip mongering"

"Good idea!" exclaimed your mom as she pecked you on the cheek before begrudgingly trekking back to her friends Angela and Peter.

You turn back to look over at the grill and see Michael staring intently at you again. You blush and clear your throat before you walk up to the intimidating killer.

"Sorry boys but I need help in the kitchen and I'll be taking Michael along with me" you say as you gently grasp Michael's wrist.

The men barely heard you over their own boisterous laughter and storytelling with you only receiving a few half-hearted grunts and "no problems" in return.

Of course they wouldn't miss Michael, he was practically a piece of garden furniture standing beside them. Silent and still as a statue.

Michael let you drag him through the throngs of guests before the both of you stopped in the now empty kitchen with everyone else enjoying the music and sunshine outside.

"Next time you're taking me with you to wherever you disappear to when mom has one of these get-togethers, ok?" you say as you get a spoon out of the drawer and reach for the ground salt and pepper.

Naturally you were met with silence but you weren't fazed. Despite his stillness you knew he was taking in your every word and movement. Which was both comforting and disconcerting at the same time.

To your surprise Michael went to the fridge and pulled out the onions, green and red peppers, chives and mayonnaise and handed them to you before silently moving to your side again. You smiled up at him and mouthed a thanks before you began the task of dicing up the veggies to add to the potatoes.

Your concentration on your task was at level zero with how close Michael was standing next to you. His presence was larger than life, engulfing you in a sort of tangible energy that threatened to swallow you whole if you allowed it.

You felt his eyes raking over your form and your heart began thrumming wildly within your chest. Your eyes were glued to the cutting board but at this point, with the atmosphere Michael was setting you were simply working on auto pilot.

Ever so gently - which was a miracle in of itself coming from Michael - he ghosted his fingertips along your forearm, circling your elbow before moving up your bare upper arm. Goosebumps formed on your flesh, the fine hairs on your body stood to attention and your nipples hardened and pebbled beneath your sundress.

You didn't know what in the hell had gotten into Michael but your body didn't want him stop. And stop he didn't. Your nerves felt like they were set on fire as the tall man moved to stand flush behind you, both of his hands softly caressing your ribs on either side, his lips gently brushing over where your neck meets your shoulder.

You let out a small gasp, your eyes closed and you stopped cutting the veggies. This was wrong, so so wrong. You shouldn't give in to this, you should yell and push him away and march to your mom and tell her what her boyfriend just pulled in the kitchen. But you don't listen to your head. You fall into your body's desire and succumb to the ministrations Michael is performing on your flushed skin.

"Michael this is wrong" you try and tell him but your words lack conviction and are instead laced with lust. "We can't do this" you try once more but your eyes shoot open and a loud breath leaves you as Michael lowers himself to his knees, lifts the hem of your dress and drags his index finger along your cotton clothed slit.

Little jolts of electricity bounce to every nerve and cell of your body as Michael repeats the motion while his soft lips press chaste kisses against your bare bottom. You nervously look out through the empty living room and into the garden where you can see the guests drinking and chatting away, none the wiser of what's happening in the kitchen with their friend's daughter and her boyfriend.

Michael moves to sit on the kitchen floor, his back against the kitchen cabinets and his face right in line with your now dripping pussy. A wanton moan escapes you as he pulls your cotton thong down to your knees and grips your throbbing clit with his lips, giving it a deep pull, his teeth gently scraping against the sensitive flesh.

"Michael!" you gasp as your hands drop the red pepper and knife and instead grip the curls atop his head as Michael continues to caress your clit with his lips and tongue. You find yourself grinding against his face at the pleasure wracking through your heated body as Michael's large hands grip each one of your ass cheeks, firmly squeezing and massaging them.

Eventually you feel the blazing tightening deep in your core as your orgasm fast approaches. "Michael... I'm gonna..." you can't form coherent sentences with how good the serial killer's mouth is abusing your pulsing clit. Michael gives your ass cheek a firm, hard slap - his way of commanding you to cum for him.

That hard slap sent a pleasurable jolt through to your pussy which pushed you over the edge. Your hands flew to your mouth to cover your euphoric cry as the orgasm which wracked your body was the most intense you had ever felt - your own fingers had never and most likely could never bring such an orgasm about.

You panted and gripped the counter while trying to steady your breathing as you came down from your high. You looked down onto Michael who was staring back up at you. The bottom half of his face was glistening with your juices, and while his features showed no emotion, his eyes were smoldering with satisfaction and something else you couldn't identify... something dark.

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A few weeks had passed since your and Michael's initial escapade in the kitchen and since then the two of you had been indulging in one another and simply spending more time with each other whenever you could - you of course enjoyed the carnal pleasure that Michael brought you but more than that you found you really enjoyed his company. His mere presence calmed your otherwise natural nervous disposition and you found you shared a lot of things in common such as your music, movie and even food tastes among some other things and interests. You were never the one to initiate though, you were far too shy and guilt-ridden for that.

You couldn't believe what you were doing to your mom. She loved Michael but Michael clearly didn't love her. So why was he in a relationship with her? Was it perhaps one out of convenience? A roof over his head, food, a body to keep him warm and satisfied? You could imagine his barren old childhood home didn't offer much of anything, not like your and your mom's home could.

You didn't really know how to feel about that. If that was the case then he was simply using your mom while she in return was giving her resources, time, heart and body to someone who held no true feelings for her.

With an aggravated huff you pushed those ruminations to the back of your mind, where you had been trying to keep them caged and out of sight so that the guilt didn't eat you up while you fell deep and hard into the Michael abyss - you were treading dangerous terrain with Michael and you were afraid to where it would lead to.

"You seem deep in thought y/n" you jumped, startled by your mom's voice as you sat on the sofa, with you only partially paying attention to The Last of Us showing on the tv.

"Oh! Uhm, yeah.. sorry. Just thinking about the interview yesterday. I hope I get the job" you lie nervously as you look up at your mom.

"Don't worry hun, you'll get it. That job is perfect for you, Mr. Jenkins would be a fool to let you slip through his fingers. You would be so happy in that little bookstore. Just you, your boss and a ton of books. I know you'd hate to work in a large office building with hundreds of people, bright lighting and loud constant noise like myself"

You blow out a small breath as you rake your fingers through your hair. "I don't know how you manage that, I would never be able to get any work done and I think half the time I'd just hide away in the bathroom"

Your mom chuckles and pats your head before grabbing a chocolate covered pretzel from the bowl in front of you. "By the way, I just came to let you know that I'll be leaving for a couple of days with Don. Some seminar in Seattle and he wanted me to tag along"

Your eyes narrowed as your mom carried on speaking about the business trip, though Don was more on her tongue than the actual details of the trip itself. She raved about his big house and red Porsche, and how many new business ventures he was wading into. She had stars in her eyes and a dusting of pink on her cheeks as she practically gushed about her wealthy boss and all his possessions.

You couldn't believe it. Was your mom really feeling some type of way about Don the Douchebag? You hated that guy - you'd never met anyone more smug, self-important, materialistic and pretentious as that man. You had to be wrong about this, you just had to.

Michael was 100 times more of a man than Don could ever hope to be! Sure, Michael didn't have any material possessions or financial resources but he outshone Don in all other ways.

Michael was handsome, he was strong, capable, had an indomitable will, he had an endless pool of determination and conviction. He was sure in and of himself and let nothing stand in his path. His skill as a lover was to your limited knowledge, skilled perfection. He was smart and had a subtle humour that resonated with you which often left the two of you snickering while your mom stood there not understanding the joke.

When you felt down he would sit close by you, he never spoke but his presence comforted you - he had even allowed you to hug him on occasion when you had had a rough day at school and you needed physical affection - your mom was always working of course and you were often left at home with Michael. Sometimes you'd come home to a sandwich having been made for you by him, which always softened your heart to the ruthless killer.

He wa-- you stopped your inner defense and monologue of Michael and realized you sounded just the same as your mom who was raving about Don. You paused and alarmingly wondered where all those thoughts and praises came from - and they came so quickly too.

As your inner self had spoken so vehemently about Michael a warmth had spread throughout your chest that set your heart racing. Spooked at this, you quickly shut that train of thought down and focused back on the now retreating form of your mom who was informing you that she'd be up in her bedroom packing for the business trip.

You felt eyes on you and looked to the doorway that lead to the garage. Michael stood there in his coveralls and mask, a shiver ran down your spine as those two empty black voids of the mask bored right through you. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding when he turned around and went back into the garage.

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Michael had been a bit distant from you and scarce from the house since your mom had been away, only showing up for dinner and two lunches. You worried at this change. Did you do something to upset him? Was he angry at you for some reason?

You didn't quite understand it, but you felt hurt by his absence and distance. You shouldn't though, he's not your boyfriend - he belongs to your mom. So why is that fact starting to hurt too?

You were lying flat on your stomach on your bed doodling in your sketchbook the night before your mom was due to arrive back from the seminar. Your thoughts were everywhere except on your drawings.

These past few weeks had unlocked something within you which had perhaps been there for a long time and only now after certain events had been transpiring was it bubbling to the surface.

That something was Michael.... and your feelings for the masked killer. You knew you shouldn't feel the things you did for him - he was a serial killer, an escaped patient... or inmate? Honestly you felt he was a bit of both. He was way older than you and most importantly he was your mom's lover... not yours.

But you had crossed that line already, had you not? None of those burdensome thoughts crossed your lusty little mind when his mouth and tongue were attached to your wet little pussy, when his long dextrous fingers were inside of your tight hole or when your lips were wrapped around his lengthy, girthy cock. You had no right to bemoan your issues with Michael and your feelings when they meant so little during your desire filled hazes.

Suddenly you felt a dip in your bed from behind you. Your eyes grew wide and your heartbeat sped up. You felt a large body lean over you, caging you between their legs and arms - the white tip nose of the familiar latex mask brushed up against your cheek and down the column of your neck inhaling your scent.

Heat and moisture immediately pooled between your legs as Michael ground his groin against your ass. You could feel his hard length through his coveralls and your thin lacy panties. A small whimper escaped you as Michael moved his hand between your legs and palmed your clothed pussy. He grunted at the warm moisture which had soaked right through the thin material and now coated his calloused skin.

A startled gasp left you as Michael flipped you with ease onto your back - that expressionless sinister mask staring down at your prone form. You noticed his coveralls were stained with darkened splotches here and there and then you spied a little bit of crimson close to the left ear of his mask - he had just come back from a kill... or killings, no doubt. A sickening thrill shot through you and to your core at the thought, your breathing visibly picked up and your pussy clenched.

You should be disgusted and ashamed with yourself at the fact that his killing actually turned you on so much or at all, but as usual, as The Shape lifted your short nightie up your body and shimmied it up over your shoulders and off your head your reservations and warnings fell to the wayside.

You stared up at the killer in eager anticipation as his large, calloused hands began to roam your soft, warm body. You sighed contentedly as his fingertips gently ran down over your ribs, beneath your breasts, down the center of your belly and over your hipbones only stop atop your soft pubic mound.

Your eyes bored into the two shadowed holes of his mask, feelings you didn't understand and maybe didn't want to understand swam at the forefront of your mind as Michael worshipped your body with a sensuality and gentleness you didn't think him capable of. But should you really be shocked? Michael had been surprising you for the last 3 years by proving all the preconceived notions about him wrong. Even your mom took him at face value and never delved deeper into the man behind the mask.

You smirked not so innocently inside your mind, this was something you had of Michael that she didn't. Michael showed you and you alone the real him, the man beyond the one dimensional aspect of the serial killer, the true Michael Audrey Myers and you would savour this for as long as you could.

Michael then trailed his warm hands back up your body to your breasts, cupping them in his hands and giving them a firm squeeze before his fingers began rolling and pinching your pebbled nipples.

You mewled and squirmed at the sensation as his ministrations on your nipples sent small jolts of electricity down to your aching clit.

Michael then took his right hand and brought his fingers to your mouth, pushing his middle and index fingers past your lips for you to suckle and lave with your tongue. You stared up at him again, your half lidded eyes making contact with his own as he finger fucked your mouth. Your ears perked up as you heard the faintest of moans from behind his mask - you smirked to yourself as you found that there were few things sexier than a man who was vocal during sex, even if it were on the softer side. Not that you had been with other men to personally know and hear them moan, as you were a virgin - but you did watch porn.

Him removing his fingers from your mouth broke your chain of thought as you watched him move his hand down to your pussy where he then inserted his wet fingers into your clenching, eager hole.

You squirmed and mewled as he began pumping his long thick digits in and out of your slick pussy, his other hand was rubbing circles around your throbbing clit.

The pleasurable sensations made you tweak and pinch at your nipples which sent you over the edge. With a cry your orgasm shot through your body, your pussy spasmed and clenched around Michael's fingers, your clit pulsated and you sighed in satisfaction with your head hitting your pillow as you came down from your orgasm.

You watched lazily and contentedly as Michael removed his fingers and made to unzip his coveralls. You admired his fit form as more and more skin was revealed the lower his zipper went.

Once his coveralls had pooled below his hips and his throbbing, red tipped member was released you assumed he was after a blowjob as the two of you had not had actual sex with one another yet.

Your eyes widened when Michael brought the head of his large cock to your slick pussy and dragged it up your slit before circling it over and around your sensitive clit.

Was he planning to-- was this the night!? And with Michael Myers??

Your heartbeat sped up again and your chest visibly rose and fell. Michael looked towards you and tilted his head, seeing your sudden nervousness.

He reached for his mask and pulled it off, tossing it on the floor before returning his attention on you. His stormy blue eyes were darkened with lust yet held a softness to them that you were unused to as he gazed into your own e/c eyes.

Your breath hitched as bent forwards and placed a chaste kiss to your lips. You closed your eyes and felt his tongue slide across your bottom lip asking for entrance. You obliged and opened your mouth, allowing his tongue access. The kiss, at least from your end was sloppy and amateurish as you had never kissed anyone before this. Michael didn't seem to care as he moaned into your mouth. His bare chest was now flushed against yours, his hold on both sides of your head became firmer as the kiss deepened and became more desperate.

You raked your fingernails across his back and gasped into the kiss as you felt the tip of his cock poke at your entrance. Michael pulled away from the kiss leaving you panting and smiling up at him. Never did you ever think a kiss could be so good.

You looked down to where Michael's length was gently resting atop your pubic mound and wondered if you were ready to lose your virginity... to your mom's boyfriend.

The easy reply was yes, a thousand times yes. You wanted this so fucking badly and with nobody else but Michael. And before the other voice in your head could list all the reasons of why you shouldn't do this and why it was wrong you pushed it to the very back of your mind and smiled up at Michael once more before spreading your legs a little wider - your permission for him to continue. For the both of you to go through with this. For Michael Myers to take your virginity.

Michael dragged his nails along your hips and along your thighs before he gripped them and pushed them as wide apart as he could. The cool air hit your moist pussy causing you to whimper. Taking his cock in his hand he ran the head up your slit before rubbing small circles over your clit, you moaned and cupped your breasts. You had never wanted anything more than this before. This is feeling was so unfamiliar, so strange and yet felt so right, so good.

"Michael, please... I need you.. now" you whined as you tweaked your nipples and ran your hands down your flushed body.

Needing no more confirmation Michael aligned the head of his cock with your entrance before carefully pushing inside. You gasped and whimpered at the burning and stinging stretch, gripping Michael's forearms tightly as they rested on either side of you.

Tears welled in your eyes at the painful sensation and looking down at your now joined bodies you knew that Michael's impressive girth was not helping.

Michael began moving in and out of you at a steady pace and slow rhythm, giving you time to adjust to the new sensations.

Soon the sting and burn began to dissipate and pleasure washed over you. You moved your hips forward to meet his thrusts which had now picked up pace and strength.

"Yes Michael... harder.. faster!" you moaned louder as Michael obliged. His pace became thunderous, your hips and thighs visibly rippling as his pelvis slammed against your sweaty, heated skin again and again and again.

Your nails scratched at his back, your toes curled. You never would have thought sex could actually feel this fucking good. The stretch of Michael within you was overwhelming as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with each deep thrust causing you to let out obscene moans of intense pleasure.

As the both of you chased your orgasms, Michael too became more vocal. His low, throaty grunts and moans sent thrills down your spine, hastening the euphoria that was fast approaching.

Michael leaned down for another desperate kiss as his fingers lavished your clit with needed attention.

The kiss broke as Michael let out a pornographic moan at his orgasm, thick ropes of warm sticky cum coated your fluttering walls and with a cry your own orgasm assaulted you at hearing Michael. Your pussy clenched and gripped his shaft, milking it of everything it had to offer.

Michael collapsed on top of you, his weight and him still sheathed inside of you comforted you in a way you didn't know you needed.

You brought your hand up and began running your fingers through his curly sandy blond hair, a content smile gracing your lips. You didn't want to speak to ruin this peaceful moment, so you closed your eyes and continued your ministrations on Michael's head as he hummed in sleepy approval.

There were so so so many things to contemplate on now and to consider going forward but as sleep began to take you, you would worry about everything tomorrow.

If only you had heard the key being slotted into the front door downstairs....

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Megan, girl, sorry lol I got carried away with this one - its way longer than I anticipated. Hope you don't mind 😄

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