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mydemimonde · 4 months

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'Cherry Bomb' | Michael Gavey x Reader (Part 1)

a/n: this will have two parts, most likely! english is not my first language and i have no idea how oxford university works lol i just googled some things, also i suck at maths so any explanation here is just me googling shit. no beta reader. hope you enjoy!

Summary: You wake up with a pounding headache, the worst hangover you ever had. You don't even remember how you managed to get to your dorm, until you see a small note on your bedside table, signed by... Michael Gavey.

Words: 4490

Warnings: +18 (minors do not interact!), female reader, no use of y/n, not specific physical description, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, fingering, loss of virginity, masturbation (and more to come in the second part)

You wake up on a Saturday morning with a pounding headache, your mascara all smudged under your eyes. The sunlight coming from the blinds makes you squint your eyes. You bring a hand to your forehead, sighing. This was the worst hangover you had in a while.

The sound of the door opening and a sudden gasp make you groan and close your eyes shut.

“Oh, here you are!” a particularly high-pitched voice says, making your headache even worse.

“Fuck, Leigh” your voice comes out as croaky and hoarse. “Lower your voice” you ask as she mutters a ‘sorry’ and closes the door carefully. You manage to sit, your back resting against the headboard as Leigh approaches you.

“Next time, be sure to drink water as well. Too many tequilas and shots do this to you” it’s like she’s scolding you, which is fair because she’s two years older than you, she’s like your sister sometimes.

You rub your eyes, smearing more mascara and making you look like a raccoon. On the corner of your eye you notice a glass full of water and some aspirins. You frown.

“How did you get that so fast?” It’s Leigh’s turn to look at you completely puzzled. You point to the glass next to you.

“Uhm, it wasn’t me” she chuckles as you take some aspirins in your hand and drown them with water. Your brows lift in surprise and confusion, your eyes glancing towards a small note next to your lamp. You grab it and read the message in a rushed handwriting.

“What the fuck was Michael Gavey doing in my dorm?” you nearly scream with wide eyes as Leigh takes the note from your hands to read it. She throws her head back and cackles.

“Michael Gavey brought you here last night. You don’t remember?” she looks at your dumbfounded expression trying not to laugh again. “Jeez, you were so drunk you don’t even remember what happened…” she mutters and sits cross-legged in front of you. “Last night at the pub, we were chatting with Felix and his group and you wanted to go to the loo, so you left but on your way you bumped into Bradley and Sam” she wiggles her brows and you scoff.

You dated Bradley during half the second term, then you dated his friend Sam for a brief period of two weeks. You found them too boring, so you rejected any other advance on their part ever since.

“Anyways, I couldn’t see much but I think something nasty happened, because on the other side of the pub was Michael fucking Gavey looking at you. Babe, he was fuming” her lips curve into a devilish smile. “He strode towards you and grabbed your arm, telling them to fuck off. Which they surprisingly did, which is odd because, well… you know… he’s a scrawny awkward nerd and Bradley and Sam are pretty much tall like beasts” she shakes her head while you’re still confused, trying so hard to remember what happened.

“Why the hell would he even approach me? He hates me” your brows lift and she places a manicured hand on your knee.

“Hmm, maybe they were annoying you. It seems Michael’s your knight in shining armour. I think it was hot, wet my panties a little bit not gonna lie” she sighs and fans her face with her hand, pretending to melt.

Now it is your turn to cackle. “You’ve always said you pictured him like one of those guys who compulsively jerks off to hentai every night in the dark of his room.” You look at her with a knowing look, pouting your lips.

Leigh shrugs. “Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I like nerds like Michael Gavey now. He looked really good with that shirt” she narrows her eyes and twirls her hair, making you laugh again. She grins and looks at you. “You should talk to him. Ask him what happened, and then you might want to thank him…” she wiggles her eyebrows and you roll your eyes, she slaps your shoulder in response. “You know you want to! I mean, I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes, and a guy like him will never resist a bomb like you. Who knows, maybe he’s jerking off to the thought of you…”

“Leigh!” you slap her leg and she jumps. You shake your head. “Babe, she hates me. I know it. I’m pretty sure he’s part of that group of guys that slut-shames me in the hallways” Leigh presses her lips, knowing you might be right. Might.

Still, you want to know what really happened last night, so you sigh and get out of bed, Leigh following your movements in the dimly lit dorm. “I’ll take a shower and think about how to talk to him, ask him what happened” your friend gets on her stomach on your bed, her feet up and her chin resting on her palm as you grab your towel, feeling the headache go away, but your empty stomach grumbled.

“Mind if I take a nap here? Kev fucked my brains out last night and I don’t feel like going to my dorm” she sounded quite tired, and you hum in response. She groans as she gets into the covers and you enter the small bathroom, closing the door slowly and undressing to get into the warm shower, letting the water fall all over your body. You close your eyes enjoying the feeling, and you start wondering how to talk to Michael.

You never saw him anywhere else rather than in the great hall of college, as he spent most of the time in the library. Besides, you know deep in your gut he hates you. Every time you walk into the library, he leaves, avoiding looking at you.

One time, you tried to talk to him. It was the beginning of the academic year, you were dating a history student named David, and you saw Michael all alone during lunch, too focused on his books and his crunchies. Feeling bad for him, you grabbed your purse and walked towards him, a smile across your face.

“Hi there” you introduce yourself, extending your hand. He looks up from his book, looking at you with a frown, sneering. He looks at your hand and then back at you. Awkwardly, you move that hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, pressing your lips. “What’s your name?”

“Michael Gavey” he says sharply, clearly annoyed. You stand there, feeling heat creeping on your cheeks as he turns his attention to his book. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out so you leave, returning to your friends.

That was the first and last time you tried to talk to him, but he refused. You didn’t know why, but you assumed it was because of your reputation there. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your sexuality, and it’s definitely not your fault that most of the guys are horny douchebags who aren’t capable of being in a serious relationship. Plus, they’re too shallow for you, and you get bored easily. You don’t want them to get too attached.

But Michael’s different. He avoids interacting with people when he can, he doesn’t do parties -maybe you saw him once or twice at Felix’s-, he’s very vocal about what he thinks about popular people: he hates them. Vapid cunts, you heard him mutter once. And that’s why you feel attracted to him.

He’s nothing like Bradley, Sam or David. Or Luke. Or Peter. Or even Felix.

You finish showering and drying off your hair, Leigh sleeping soundly on your bed. You are careful not to make any loud noise as you try to dress. You put on a lace tank top and a pair of jeans, your favourite flats and the note he left on your bedside table and head out to the library, hoping to find him.

Bingo. You see Michael sitting on the other side of the library, fully immersed in his studies. Your flats make the slightest of noises against the floor, you feel your heartbeat get faster as you approach him. You pull the chair in front of him and take a seat, leaning over as you smile and say hi. Michael looks up and nearly chokes at the sight of your tits nearly spilling from your top.

“H-hi” he simply responds in a low voice. He clears his throat and frowns. “Why are you here?”

Ouch. Rude. “I was looking for you.”

“You were?” Silly old me?

“Yes, dummy. I woke up with the worst hangover of my life, and I found this on my bedside table.” You hand him the small note he left. Drink these with water. Hope you feel better. Michael Gavey. He presses his lips and nods, acknowledging the note he wrote.

“You were pretty hammered” he chuckles and you smile, showing your perfect teeth.

“I was. I can’t remember a thing, Michael. Would you help me to fill in the blanks?” you ask sweetly and bat your lashes at him, making him squirm. Michael Gavey squirms.

“Sure, uhm…” he puts the book aside, scratches the back of his neck and clears his throat once again. “You were heading towards the toilet at the pub and I heard you laugh when you bumped into those assholes” he sneers, remembering the events from last night. “The blonde one landed a hand on your ass and you tried to pull him away. You were clearly uncomfortable so just told them to fuck off” he shrugs.

Your heart flutters, he sounds so honest and worried about you. You extend your hand to place it on top of his, and he meets your eyes. “Thank you.”

He nods, looking at your hands. He slithers them away, making you frown. “No worries. Next time though, try not to throw up on my sneakers” your eyes widen in surprise and embarrassment.

“Oh fuck, did I do that?” He nods trying to hide a smirk. You cover your face with your hands, mortified. “Shit, I’m so sorry!” You move your hands away from your flushed face when you hear him chuckle.

“You had too many drinks, you could barely stand on your feet” he reassures you, his sudden kindness taking you by surprise. “I left you in your dorm and just when I was about to leave, you said you felt like throwing up, but you didn’t make it to the toilet and threw up on my sneakers. I washed the stain off the floor and helped you get off your shoes to lie down. I see you took the aspirins I left there.”

“I did, thank you again.” You don’t know how to thank him properly, so you start thinking. You take a moment to study his features. The glasses he wears frame his face and hide his blue eyes. His aquiline nose —oh God, his aquiline nose—, the pronounced cupid bow of his lips, his sharp jaw. You feel the need to run your fingers through his tousled blonde hair. You press your legs together. “How can I thank you?”

“No, it’s ok. No worries” he makes a gesture with his hands and sighs. “Uhm, I really need to study, so…” he trails off, subtly telling you to leave. You blink and nod, standing up.

“Sure, ok, I’ll leave you to it…” you accommodate the chair back and wave at him. “See you around?” He just nods and opens his book again. As you leave, a great idea crosses your mind, but before you open your mouth a pack of students enter the library. You curse internally and leave.

9:15 AM.

You fix your hair in the mirror, brushing it before going to the calculus lecture. You’re not studying anything related to maths actually, you’re a psychology student and according to the university program you can take a course to complement your studies, so you chose that one.

As you walk down the corridors, you see Michael carrying his notebook and entering the classroom. Your lips curve into a smile and speed up the pace to catch up.

“Michael!” You call him as you finally reach him. You swear you hear him mutter something under his breath, and you follow him as more students fill the room. He smiles at you with pressed lips, greeting you back.

“I didn’t know you were taking calculus” he sounds genuinely surprised. You decide to take a seat next to him, placing your bag on the floor as he opens his notebook and clicks his pen, everything ready to take notes.

“Yeah, I have to take an optional course to complement my studies” you lean down, giving him a clear view of your cleavage as you reach for your notebook and pencil case. You hear him gulp.

“How… dedicated” he replies, to which you smile, taking the end of your pencil in between your teeth.

Michael looks away, his eyes focusing on the board as the professor greets everyone and starts writing.

Half an hour later the lecture comes to an end. You sigh in relief, your brain has melted from all the numbers and formulas the professor explained. Honestly, you paid more attention to Michael’s large hands and long fingers gripping his pen as he took notes, thinking about how they would feel on your body.

You watch as he stands up quickly, nodding at you as a way to say goodbye. “See ya”

“Michael, wait!” You quickly put your notebook into your bag and rush after him. “Shall we study together? We can do the assignment due by next week together” you offer him your signature smile, tilting your head and thinking he wouldn’t say no. Most guys melted when you smiled at them like that.

However, your confidence vanishes when he grimaces and scratches his neck. “Actually, I… I don’t study in groups. Doesn’t work for me”.

Why are you surprised, it is obvious. You always see him alone in the libraries. You curse yourself internally. “Oh, well…”

“I’m sure you will do great though, you seem like a clever girl” the praise coming from his lips make you silently gasp.

“Yeah, you’re right…” Just as he’s about to leave, an idea pops in your head. “Actually, Michael… I’m struggling with this subject.”

Lies. You aren’t a genius like he is, but you can manage. You don’t like maths but you don’t suck at it either, you do good. Enough to pass the subject.

“I was wondering if you could help me” you do your best to sound helpless, knitting your brows and all. “Everyone says you’re a fucking genius, please, Mike?” He swallows hard at the way you practically beg him for help, placing a hand on his elbow.

He doubts only for a few seconds before agreeing. “Ok. I will help you” he yelps as you wrap your arms around him, your tits flash against his chest making him dizzy.

“Oh, thank you Michael!” you pull back, teeth biting down on your lower lip as you smile. “Can we start today? I would tell you to come to my dorm, but my friend Leigh is currently staying there because they found a rat clogging her toilet.” Another big lie.

Michael just nods, he doesn’t really have too many options. “Fine. Uhm, my dorm is on the second floor, 219. I’ll be there at 4pm, bring your notes and a calculator.”

You playfully salute him, like a good soldier. “Yes, Sir” he chuckles softly and shakes his head, turning on his heels to leave.

You can barely contain your joy as you walk towards your dorm, almost singing.

3:40 PM.

You try on different outfits, grunting when you look at yourself in the mirror for the fifth time. You don’t like any fit, and you continue rummaging through the pile of clothes on your bed. You lift your brow as a red fabric catches your attention. It’s the mini skirt Leigh gave you a few weeks ago. You quickly put it on and look at yourself in the mirror once again, happy with the result. Your white baby tee with ‘cherry bomb’ in red letters written on it makes the perfect match.

You grab your notebook and head towards his dorm.

“Coming” you hear Michael’s voice behind the door. He will surely be coming today. He opens the door, breath hitching at the sight of you in that top, your nipples peeking through the fabric. Suddenly he feels his pants are too tight. “Please, come in” he gives you enough space to enter his dorm, which you do. As you walk past him the smell of your perfume fills his nostrils. Fuck.

You smile at him and as he closes the door behind you, you look around the room. It was just what you expected. Everything was perfectly neat, books organised in two bookshelves, more textbooks and notes scattered over the white desk.

“Take a seat over there” he points at the bed, and you gladly do it. “Do you want something to drink? Eat? I have some crunchies.”

“No, thanks, I’m fine.” You flash him a sweet smile as you open your bag, looking for your notes and your pen.

Michael sits next to you, keeping a safe distance of course, but close enough you can hear his hard breathing. “Ok, we can start with the basics, and then I’ll help you with the exercises, sounds good?” When you nod, he continues. “Cool. So, think of limits as a way to understand what happens to a function as it gets closer and closer to a certain point without actually reaching it.”

“That sounds paradoxical” you cut him off, and he suppresses a smile.

“It does seem counterintuitive, but it's about observing the behaviour of a function as it gets infinitely close to a specific value.” He continues explaining, and you pay attention to every word that comes out from those beautiful lips.

Michael’s brows lift in surprise as you finish another task quickly, and he’s even more surprised when he checks it and there are no mistakes. He didn’t find any mistakes in the previous 5 exercises he provided for you either. You just look up at him, waiting for his correction.

He looks back at you. “You did perfectly well. Again.” You squeak and he takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t get it. Most students get the first ten exercises horribly wrong, but you solved all of them perfectly. H-how?”

You lean back on your arms, legs crossed. You tilt your head. “Maybe I’m just a quick study, learning from the best” you start moving your feet up his leg, slowly and carefully. He shakes his head as he puts on his glasses again, sighing.

“No. You’re just wasting my time.”

“What?” It’s actually the truth. You are wasting his time, you weren’t having any issues with the subject, you just wanted an excuse. “Ok, yes, I admit it” you lift your hands in defeat, and he curses.

“Why the fuck would you ask for my help if you don’t need it? Fuck, I have many important things to do and you’re here bothering me, leave please.”

You get on your feet quickly as he’s about to turn the doorknob, and you stop him. “No, Michael, please hear me out.” He glares at you, nostrils flaring as you take his wrist and guide him towards his bed, making him sit on the edge. He looks confused, you sit next to him, your knees touching.

“Look, I just wanted to thank you for what you did the other day. For being my knight in shining armour.” He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off by placing your index finger there. “No, listen. I know it’s not a big deal for you, but it is for me. Michael, I want you.”

Michael’s eyes widen at your confession. “W-what?”

There’s no way you wanted him. You, out of all the people on the campus. Slowly, you lean in, wetting your lips with your tongue to press them against his mouth. You give him a soft peck before truly kissing him, your hands finding their way towards his tense shoulders. He doesn’t respond yet, but when you bite gently on his lower lip he whimpers, he fucking whimpers, and moves his lips against yours, trying to follow your rhythm. Your lips taste like cherries, and he loves it.

Kissing him feels good. You tilt your head to the side to deepen the kiss, feeling how he squirmed under your touch and kisses. You wonder how he would react when you have his cock in your mouth.

You slither your tongue inside his mouth, exploring it as he gets more excited, his hands finally touching you, placed on either side of your waist.

You pull back to catch your breath and he chases your lips. You giggle. “Easy there, lover boy. We have plenty of time.”

“Fuck, I- I… I’ve never done this” you frown, and he sighs. “I’ve never kissed anyone. Ever. That felt really good” he chuckles, and you smile.

“You liked it?” He just nods, and you start placing open mouthed kisses across his jaw, down his neck until you reach his ear and whisper. “Wait until I put my mouth on your cock.”

Michael gulps. “W-what?”

“You think I came here just because I wanted to kiss you? No, Michael” his eyes follow your movements, how you rise from his bed to kneel in front of him, hands undoing his jeans, looking for any sign of discomfort. When you find none, you continue, pulling down his jeans and boxers down to his knees, freeing his cock. “I came here because I really, really want this” you purr and lower your gaze to his weeping length, your cunt clenching around nothing already.

Michael’s big. At least, bigger than the ones you had. Curved upward with a protruding vein on the side. You bite your lip as you start stroking him, Michael closes his eyes shut and whimpers. You never heard someone whimper so beautifully. You study every reaction, every microexpression as you continue stroking him at a tantalising pace, as if you are torturing him.

“P-please…” he begs through bated breath, moving his hips as he tries to get some friction, anything.

“You look so beautiful begging, Michael. You’re making me so wet, baby” he cries out your name again, and you smirk. “Michael, open your eyes” you demand, and he does so, breath catching in his throat as he finds you there on your knees, looking at him like you were his predator. It was so fucking sexy.

“I want you to watch as I suck your cock. And you better last more than five minutes. I want you to enjoy it” he nods and swallows hard as you lick your lips before taking him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck” he curses, gripping the sheets beneath him until his knuckles are white. You lick the vein, going from the base upwards, and you hear him sigh. You lick him like you lick a lollipop, and then you take him into your mouth again, hollowing your cheeks as your right hand works its way around the base. He’s so big he doesn’t fit completely into your mouth.

You hum around his cock, your eyes closing as you bob your head up and down his shaft, making Michael squirm. He doesn’t know what to do, he just keeps looking at you, unable to tear his gaze from you.

The soft moans that escape his lips, the way he whimpers your name and bucks his hips ever so slightly, careful not to hurt you but eager to get more are enough to make you wet. Hell, you are sure your panties are soaked by now, leaking through the fabric.

His eyes widen as he catches the movement of your left hand that was on his inner thigh going in between your legs, under the skirt. Were you touching yourself?

You bob your head faster and moan around his cock as you tease your wet folds with your fingers. You push two fingers inside your pussy, the room filling with the most obscene sounds you ever heard.

“Are you… are you touching y-yourself?” asks Michael in a strangled moan, watching you intently. You release his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, your saliva coating it.

“Of course I am, Michael. I’m fucking wet. Here” you take off your fingers from your pussy to grab his hand, and guide it towards your entrance.

Michael almost passes out. You are, in fact, dripping wet on his fingers. You let him touch you for a moment, grinding your hips against his hand, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit so deliciously. “S-shit, Michael” you bite your lip and he grins, happy to earn that reaction from you. You feel him twitch in your hand, the tell tale sign that he was very close to cumming. You remove your hands from your cunt and he frowns.

“Did-did I hurt you?”

“No, baby. But tonight’s about you, ok? I can teach you how to eat my pussy later, yeah? Right now, I want you to cum in my mouth. Whenever you’re ready” you wink at him and he chokes on a sob as you take him into your mouth again, slowly until you feel him in the back of your throat. Some tears well up in your eyes, you moan around his cock and that pushes him.

He bucks his hips and shoots his load deep down your throat, you look at him through your lashes and see how hard he grips the sheets, his chest heaving as he moans your name. He stays still for a while, panting as you swallow his salty cum, wiping the corner of your mouth with your hand.

“Holy fuck” he mutters, still trying to catch his breath. You get on your feet and plant a kiss on his lips, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “Now… shall I… well, uhm” he’s unsure about what to ask.

“Eat my pussy?” you finish for him and he nods eagerly, you giggle. “Another day, baby.”

“But you… you were touching yourself and didn’t get to cum, right? I have to return the favour—”

“No, Michael. Don’t worry” you reassure him with a kind smile, stroking his cheek. You lean in to kiss him again, and then, you whisper in his ear: “I’ll just finger myself until I cum in my bedroom to the thought of you.”

You smirk as he looks at you with his jaw dropped. You blow him a kiss, open the door and leave.

let me know what you think! and if you'd like to be tagged as well 🫶🏻

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x you #michael gavey fic #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn #saltburn movie #ewanverse #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell fic #mydemimondewrites

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kaleldobrev · 8 months

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Please Don't Leave

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean's lucky to have you in his life and honestly doesn't know what he would ever do without you

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Cursing (3x), Fluff, Vulnerable/Angry Dean

Authors Note: The gif makes me sad | This might seem a little non canon but at the same time I honestly feel like Dean would react this way (fight me if you want, but I said what I said) | I just love this man so fucking much | Dream/Flashbacks are in italics | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Dean didn’t have a lot of consistencies in his life, but you were one of them. Out of everyone he had known in his life, you were one of the only people that had remained with him through all the heartbreak, all of the death, all of the blood, sweat, and tears that this life had. You had been through it all with him: Sam going to Stanford and leaving him behind, his fathers death, him selling his soul, the year that Sam went to Hell, the year the two of you were in Purgatory, the few months he was a demon, his bloodlust fueled by the Mark, him being possessed by Michael. He had an endless list of things that the two of you had been through together, things that would cause any normal or rational person to throw in the towel; but not you. “You can’t get rid of me Dean Winchester, not even if you kill me yourself.” You had joked. And that was something that he had almost done – and on several occasions too. And yet, you never left him. “I guess I’m just stupid.” You said. “Or maybe the sex me and you have is just that good.”

The sex he had with you, now that was something. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced; and he has had quite a lot of sex during his lifetime (not that he bragged about it of course). When the two of you initially met, it was only supposed to be a working relationship, a friends with benefits sort of deal. But eventually it turned into more. He wasn’t sure where him or you had gotten your wires crossed but they did; and it turned into you and him always finding each other at the end of the night regardless of the different men and women that had hit on both of you at the bar you two were at.

The sex used to be quick, usually done in either a drunken haze or after a tough hunt. But it eventually turned into something that either one of you would initiate through soft touches: a kiss on the forehead, a simple hand hold, or cuddling into each other. Once, in the middle of sex, he wasn’t sure why he had said it but he did. He kind of just blurted it out. “I love you.” Now that was something he never thought he’d ever say during sex before. But here you were beneath him, staring up at him with those doe eyes of yours that you frequently had during sex and said, “I love you too.” It was something he didn’t expect.

Dean didn’t know what he could or would possibly do if you weren’t in his life; and that was something he didn’t want to think about. But it was something that has been an unavoidable thought as of late. Waking up to you was one of the worst but best things after a nightmare of losing you. He would wake up in a panic, his heart racing, sweating; afraid that you were gone for good this time. But without fail, every single time you would be right there next to him. Either sound asleep or awake enough to tell him, “It’s okay, I’m right here.” He would always reply the same way. “Just…please don’t leave.” It was a simple yet complicated sentence. “I’m not going to. I’d never leave you.” Those words that you always uttered back should have been comforting to him, but it was just an empty promise – even though he knows that’s how you never intended it to sound. In your heart you loved him deeply, and he knew that. He knew that you’d never leave him; the two of you have been through everything together. But when it came to this life, it was hard to make and keep promises like that.

“Dean, I just can’t do this anymore I’m sorry.” Your words had cut into him like a knife. Like he’d been shot hundreds of times. The torture he received from Hell combined with the loss of his mother was child’s play compared to what he was currently feeling. He just started blankly at the two duffel bags at your feet as you stood in the doorway of the room the two of you shared. Well, formally shared that is. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” You asked, your question snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

“There’s nothing to say.” Of course there were hundreds, no thousands of things that he had wanted to say to you, but he knew that he couldn’t say any of it. As much as he wanted to beg for you to stay, he wasn’t going to make you stay. Once you made up your mind that was it; there was no convincing you.

You looked at him with a confused expression. “You don’t even want to know why I’m leaving?” You asked, and Dean simply shook his head. “Why not?”

“It doesn’t really matter.” He tried to keep his voice even, to make you believe that he was okay. But he could tell that you knew he wasn’t (you knew him long enough to know when he was or wasn’t okay).

“Dean.” You said, your voice sounding more heartbroken than his.

“It’s alright. You don’t…you don’t have to explain yourself.” He said, taking a seat on the bed you two once shared.

“I feel like you deserve an explanation. We were together for almost twenty years Dean.” You sat down next to him on the bed. He had just wanted to push you away or wrap you in his arms. Two completely differently reactions, but that’s the way he felt. “Dean.” You touched his shoulder and he flinched, you quickly removed your hand. “I love you, and I know you know that but –”

“Please just…stop talking. I really don’t want to hear what you have to say.” His voice was more hurt now, and he could feel himself trying not to say or do anything that he was going to regret. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t want you to have to see that, despite seeing him do it so many times before. “Just, leave if you’re going to leave.” You didn’t move, simply just staring at him. “Go!” He snapped, and that’s when you got up.

You walked over to your bags, slinging one over your shoulder and holding the other one in your hands. “Goodbye Dean.” You said, before walking out of the room. For a while he heard the sound of your boots down the hall, but they suddenly became faint, almost inaudible. The Bunker door opened and closed again. You were gone. Gone for good this time.

“You said you’d never fucking leave.” He whispered to himself. “Said you’d never fucking leave me.” He pounded the bed with his fist. “You fucking lied!” He got up from the bed and he felt himself start to lose control; no longer in control of the emotions that had been building up when he had started watching you pack up your bags.

Dean woke up abruptly, sitting up. He was panicked, his heart racing. His breaths were heavy, his chest moving up and down. He rubbed his face, trying to fully wake himself up. There was no way he would be getting back to sleep for a while; not after that nightmare. “Y/N -” he began to say as he looked over to his right side; your side of the bed. You were gone. “Sweetheart?” He asked, his hand reached out and touched the emptiness next to him: it was cold.

He looked up at the door to the bedroom which was slightly ajar. The only light in the room came seeping in from the hallway. He didn’t remember having the door open, the door was always shut whenever the two of you slept. Despite how safe the Bunker was, sleeping with the door closed added an extra layer of safety, not just for him, but for you as well.

A shadow appeared, blocking some of the light. He reached over and opened the drawer of his nightstand, slightly gripping his gun that he always kept there. Before he could fully wrap his hand around the weapon you squeaked inside the room and shut the door again quietly. A huge amount of relief washed over him in that moment as he let go of the gun and closed the drawer. “Dean?” You questioned, upon hearing the drawer close. “Baby are you okay?” You asked, walking to sit on his side of the bed. He looked at you as you placed a hand on his cheek. Your eyes full of worry.

“You were…” his eyes flickered to your side of the bed that had been empty when he woke up before looking back at you again. “You were gone. When I woke up you…”

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You reassured him, your voice calm.

“Where did you go?” He asked tiredly.

“The bathroom. I really, really needed to pee.” You said, Dean chuckled a little at your comment. “You know I wouldn’t willingly leave you right?” You reassured him again. You felt him nod in your hand.

“I know.” His voice sounding just a hint sad. “I uh, I feel stupid for freaking out.” The sentence was a whisper.

“There’s nothing to feel stupid about Dean.” Another reassurance. Dean had every right to react the way he did; he had lost so much, even before you had met him. You had been with him through everything. Witnessed so much loss and endured just as much. “Was it a nightmare?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It was the…the one where you break up with me.” You hated that one just as much as he did.

“I’m never going to break up with you. I love you too damn much.” You said, giving him a smile. You crawled into bed next to him getting underneath the covers. “Come here.” You held out your arms for him, and without hesitation he went into them. He wrapped his arms around your torso and rested his head on your chest; your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Your fingers started playing with his hair, gently massaging his head.

The two of you sat there in silence, both of you with your eyes closed. You weren’t sleeping, but you were unsure if he was. Even if he wasn’t, his breathing was starting to get more even, he was starting to calm down. Hearing the sound of your heartbeat always calmed him down. “Y/N?” Dean asked.

“Yes my love?” You asked, opening your eyes.

He looked up at you briefly, tiredly. “I know I don’t tell you enough but…I’m really lucky to have you in my life. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.” He kissed your neck, as that was one of the only spots he could currently reach.

“I’m lucky to have you in my life too.” You responded, giving him a kiss on the top of his head.

“And Sweetheart?” He asked again.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Thank you…thank you for not leaving me.” His voice sounding a little pained. The sound of this sentence had broken your heart a bit. Leaving Dean was never an option for you, no matter what had happened between the two of you. Being with him wasn’t easy, but you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. He was your person, the love of your life, your soulmate. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kissed him on the top of the head again, and you could feel his smile.

That night, Dean didn’t have another nightmare, but he did dream. He had one of his favorite dreams; one that always gave him a sense of calmness and normalcy. The two of you would be just lying in bed together watching some random horror movie on tv. It was something that the two of you have done hundreds, no, thousands of times, so there would be no reason why it would be his so called favorite dream. What made it his favorite though was purely based on one small detail, a detail that made it known to him that it was in fact a dream: wedding rings would be on both of your fingers.

Someday maybe, he thought.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 If you'd like to be on a tag list, just message me!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #reader insert #female reader #Dean x you #dean x reader

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rabbitblackx · 8 months

Note

Hi! How are you? I hope you're doing well :D

So I have an idea I've thinking about

Since my dream job is to be a psychologist, I thought about how slashers would react to their s/o working as a psychologist / psychotherapist (for Michael, Brahms, Freddy and Jason please)

Thanks in advance

Have a good day / night!

Hope ur doing well too! :) sorry for the wait I’ve been a bit busy and uninspired, but things are starting to look up! Have a great day xoxo

Slashers with a Psychologist!Reader

Includes: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger and Brahms Heelshire

Michael Myers💖

Michael hated you at first. Well, it wasn’t much different now. He… now tolerated you…? At best? Anyway, he hated how you overanalysed every little thing he did. It was hard not to, seeing how beyond batshit he was

Like, how dare you try to make Michael feel better?! >:( That was the worst thing you could do to him! You reminded him of Loomis. Although, you were way more attractive… and cute… and sexy

Michael didn’t want to like you, but there was just something about you. He was always gonna be a bad guy, but you somehow bettered him. He was instantly more calm in your presence and even your home. Your furnishings and belongings were purposely placed to give the space a peaceful vibe

If you were lucky, Michael could really fall apart on you. He had his head in your lap, completely motionless. You were worried he was about to die or something, but no… you just made him feel

Jason Voorhees💖

Jason didn’t believe in your therapy. He dismissed and brushed off any words of comfort you gave him. There was nothing you could’ve said that would make him not feel the way he did. He kept you around though… maybe just because he liked the sound of your voice

Sometimes your wise words stuck with Jason when he was by himself. He was kicking himself for it, but maybe you were right? Perhaps your therapy made him feel better?

When Jason was angry, he used to break things. Now, he sat across from you and listened to you talk. You gently praised him for doing so, proud at how far he had come

Jason found himself craving your presence more and more. You made him feel okay. You may have thought he was becoming codependent, but he didn’t care. Your caring words and methods made him latch onto you

Freddy Krueger💖

No, no, no. Don’t try and overanalyse a bunch of bullshit about Freddy. That didn’t work on him. At least that was what he told himself. He acted like your wise words and kindness had no affect on him, but he grumbled about how sweet you were to himself later

Your dreams were Freddy’s favourite. Amazingly, they were no nightmares. It was just the two of you in the comfort of your office. He found the way you sat so straight in your chair, the way you focused hard on jotting down your notes… so cute

Freddy wasn’t too keen on telling you about his problems. He was much more interested in just looking at you. Sexy, smart you… he could’ve just eaten you up

It was pretty obvious, but Freddy tried to get you to hug or hold him often. He was a pretty bad actor, begging you for sympathy. You felt none, but still snuggled him anyway. You told him he was touch starved, and he hated that. Truth hurt

Brahms Heelshire💖

Brahms sat obediently across from you in the living room. He listened to every word you said, shyly nodding along when necessary. He had a long way to go, but you could really of made a difference on him

You wouldn’t give up on Brahms, and he loved you for that. You told him often that you were sticking with him, and that you would never leave. It was music to his ears. It was all he ever wanted

You could make him cry sometimes. Not on purpose, just when talking about touchy subjects. Brahms didn’t mind though, because you always cuddled up and gave him a hug. And as he cried on your shoulder, he realised that you were his whole world

Brahms had serious issues that you knew needed to be dealt with. It was just so hard to have the heart. He was clinging to you, tearfully begging you to stay and take care of him forever. How could you say no? How could you distance yourself? You never had a patient that tore you apart as much as this man

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actual-changeling · 6 months

Text

Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner - although today it is less unhinged and more of a watertight analysis.

What I am about to present you is something most people have probably already noticed, but it has been three months and I still lose my mind while going through the final fifteen frame by frame (which is a normal thing normal people like us do, right? right).

You literally cannot convince me my following meta is wrong, and the only person whose criticism I will accept on this post is Michael Sheen and Michael Sheen ONLY. If you're not Michael Sheen (hi Michael Sheen who probably has a secret tumblr account) then your guess is as good as mine, though again, I think mine is solid.

So.

We all love and hate Aziraphale's "I forgive you", but what I find even more painful is the fact that before that he almost said "I love you". Then he stops himself and changes it, and the amount of micro-expressions on his face as he makes that decision is my current cause of death.

Here's the clip as evidence #1, and while it can definitely support itself, let's dive into the pain a little more, shall we?

One important thing I noticed is that Aziraphale doesn't look at Crowley while he stutters his way through his initial reaction. He blinks up at him for a few frames before averting his eyes again and only holds eye contact after the almost-confession (from here on referred to as IL-).

This is Aziraphale holding eye contact with Crowley (left) vs. him looking away (right):

The frame on the left is from the I forgive you (IFY) part of the scene, the other one from right before IL-. If we go through the above clip little by little we will find that he avoids Crowley's face the entire time and his gaze slips further and further down, which I interpret as him overthinking/trying to come up with something to respond to this entire situation.

He is overwhelmed and surprised, caught between his two main desires: Crowley and being a Good Angel.

Combing through the frames, we can actually nail down exactly when Aziraphale first makes eye contact before the IL- and when he stops. Keep the above comparison in mind! The angle is slightly different because his chin is lower and he straightens up throughout the scene.

So! This is where he starts looking at Crowley:

And this is where he stops:

Hard to see? Let's zoom in on his eyes (numbers are the file names):

Now, you might ask me "Alex, this is all fine, although a bit insane, but why is any of this important?"

Because, fellow tumblr user and good omens enthusiast, I think that looking at Crowley is what changes his mind about what to say.

He doesn't look at him -> about to confess his feelings.

He looks at him -> says the absolutely worst possible thing.

Partly to hurt him because they're both lashing out at each other during this argument, but he looks at Crowley, looks at the person that just kissed him, that told him they could have been an us, that wants him and has always wanted him, screw everyone else.

He looks at Crowley and he wants to say l love you but then what? Once he says those words, he can't leave. He just can't.

We have to remember that they have existed within a complicated dance, a game that they have been playing for centuries without ever telling each other what that game actually is, what the rules are - because they couldn't. It was based entirely on trust and knowing the other person well enough to play it safe.

Crowley just flipped the playing board. Nothing is the way it should be, he is refusing to do their dance, refusing to play. He is looking at him and daring him to stop trying to put the pieces back on the board. The only thing neither of them has done yet is actually say I love you out loud.

Saying those words would mean stepping away from the playing board and acknowledging the room they have been playing in. It would mean saying fuck you to heaven, yes, but it would also force Aziraphale to finally define himself outside of the role he has been playing for both Crowley and heaven, and he isn't ready for that yet.

Additionally, there is the fear and/or knowledge (depending on what else the Metatron might have said or done that we did not see) that heaven will retaliate against him and Crowley if he disobeys them now, and he does not want to risk that either.

All that is what, in my opinion, happens in his head when he averts his eyes and interrupts himself. I do kinda what to make a whole different post about his facial expressions leading up to the IFY, so I will end this one with one more bit of pain.

Ready?

Firstly, the face he makes when he makes his decision.

Look at the tight line of his lips, the pain etched into his face, the pure pain in his eyes.

This is the face of someone who knows exactly how badly he is going to hurt Crowley and himself. This is an apology, an I'm sorry for what I'm about to do, this hurts me as much as it hurts you. I'm sorry but I have to.

And then he winces afterwards. I don't know about you, but this is exactly the kind of face I make when I'm emotionally torturing myself with my own thoughts. For the final blow, please look at the picture very, very closely, especially the last frame, because Aziraphale isn't just sorry and he isn't just in pain.

Aziraphale is scared because he knows* that he might lose Crowley over this. He knows that saying I forgive you is (almost) unforgivable. He KNOWS.

He does it anyway because he will lose Crowley either way but he'd rather have him alive and hating him than dead.

With that I am concluding today's unhinged meta corner, thank you for your attention and you're welcome for the pain.

Also: If you want to call me a 'tin hatter' or insane or otherwise make fun of me - this is very much a girl, what were YOU doing at the devil's sacrament moment because you read my meta post all the way to the end. <3

*authors note: what Aziraphale thinks he knows and what is actually real is not the same thing but that's a different post

#alex talks good omens #good omens #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #good omens kiss #good omens 2 meta #no nightingales

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backtothefanfiction · 4 months

Text

Sleeping at Saltburn: Felix’s Room

Summary: It’s your first night back for the summer, but Felix has a guest. How will this affect your sleeping arrangements.

Warnings: none, fluff

A/N: this kind of predates the other sleeping at Saltburn story. The incident with Felix going to your room happens later the same week.

Summers at Saltburn Masterlist

You always fought before you both went back to your separate schools and you always made up when you came back; but the fight you’d had at the end of last summer, because of Michael, was the worst. It was so bad you hadn’t come back to Saltburn during any of the other school holidays, opting to stay at your Uni accommodation instead. But you couldn’t avoid going back for the summer. You had convinced yourself it would be fine, that the two of you would talk and make up like you always did and the events of last summer would just become a part of the past. However when Farleigh picked you up from the train station and told you Felix had brought another friend home, it only cemented the niggling thought in your mind more that things between you and Felix would forever be different now.

He only confirmed it even more when you had both crept away to talk things out so things wouldn’t be awkward for everyone else in the house. “Can we just forget about last summer and just be friends?” He’d said.

Just be friends. To hear that phrase killed you.

You kept thinking it over as you tossed and turned in your bed that night. That bed you always shared with Felix. Even when you were arguing, you still shared a bed with Felix; had done ever since you first stayed over at 8 years old. The old house had freaked you out with its winding corridor’s, creepy painting and suits of armour. It had so much history, so many ghosts. You could feel them in the shadows of the rooms. Their soft treads creeping along the carpet behind you down the halls.

When he’d noticed how afraid you were, Felix had offered for you to sleep with him in his room. He was always there to protect you from the monsters.

But now you were alone, lying in a bed that felt far too big for just one person, far too cold and drafty due to the old and large architecture, a soft summer nighttime breeze whistling down the chimney stack and echoing off the fireplace and around your far too silent room. You needed his warmth, the soft rhythm of his sleepy breaths.

Before you knew it you’d grabbed your robe and started making your way across the second floor landing towards his room. You didn’t knock. You could hear his steady breaths coming from under the gap of the door and didn’t want to wake him. Didn’t want to risk rejection, him telling you to grow up and fuck off. So you instead quietly crept inside.

Although the bed was as large as your own, Felix wasn’t sprawled out across the middle of it. Even though you had every intention of sleeping apart, his body still slept on his side of the bed, the only thing stretching out to your side of the bed- his arm. It lay just at the base of your pillow, the perfect position to rest between your head and neck once you’d nestled down into the pillow.

You lifted the sheets and shifted yourself carefully beneath them, not wanting to disturb him too much, but given his arm placement, you knew it was unavoidable. You shimmied your body down slightly in order to better lie on the empty pillow next to him and the steady rhythm of his breathing stuttered, a small curious humming coming from his lips.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You quietly explained as you got yourself into a comfortable position on your side. You felt his arm shift to get comfortable, now tucked under your pillow. He paused, waiting a moment to make sure you were settled before he shuffled closer to your body, his arm reaching to rest over your hip, his head shuffling to the edge of the pillow to breathe in your scent on the back of your neck.

“I know.” He quietly whispered into your skin before pulling you back into him tighter and falling back to sleep.

You feel asleep not long after.

#felix catton fluff #felix catton imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton #saltburn imagines #saltburn x reader #summers at saltburn #sleeping at Saltburn

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darlingshane · 11 months

Text

Afternoon Delight

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: You and Michael are just two good friends with a lot of chemistry that have sex on occasion, and today is one of those days he shows up at your apartment to benefit from that mutual agreement.

Content/Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Friends with Benefits, Fluff, Crack, Pet Names.

Word Count: 1,4k

— You can read below or at AO3.

“Your boyfriend is here!” your roommate announces, knocking on the bathroom door as you step out of the shower.

“Boyfriend?” with a scoff, you wrap a towel around your soaked body before opening the door to see who she's referring to.

Poking your head out the hallway, you find Michael standing in the middle of the living room.

It strikes you as odd to see him this early and that your roommate called him your boyfriend, cause you and Michael are not currently dating, or ever will be, — but who knows, stranger things have happened. Right now, your relationship boils down simply to two good friends that have sex on occasion, with no bullshit or feelings in the mix. By keeping this uncomplicated, you avoid the upheaval of pain and regret you've felt in the past with other guys you've dated. This situation has been a good solution to ditch all those problems.

However, Michael's been coming and going so often that some people might view that as dating. It’s true, you two are really cute together, and have explosive chemistry that could blow up the roof. You would be lying if you said that you hadn’t thought about asking for more a couple of times, but for now this is all you need.

You and your roommate are not exactly best friends, or have known each other for long. So, you’ve never considered it important to explain the nature of the mutually beneficial relationship you have with Michael, and you’re not going to start today.

“Hi, welcome back!” his smile beams from across the room.

“Hey, what are you doing here so early?” you beckon him, and he follows you into your room.

“I thought you said to come pick you up at 3.”

“I didn't. I'm pretty sure I said 8. When have we ever hung out at 3? Nobody ever ha–” you’re cut off when Michael fishes his phone out of his pocket and shows your message on screen up to you to realize that you indeed typed 3 instead of 8. “Oh… I was jet-lagged when I wrote that. My bad, but I'm glad you're here anyway.”

“Yeah? You've missed me?” He tucks his phone back into his pocket.

“I haven't missed you missed you. But I've missed this face,” you hold his chin tightly in your fingers, leaning in to smooch his cheek.

Unable to fight a smile, his lips curve up beautifully as you let go of his face.

“How was your trip, sweetheart?” Michael takes a seat at the foot of your messy bed while you move to search through your opened, unpacked suitcase.

“Long. I hate flying. Here, I got this for you,” you toss a light-weighted, wrapped present at him.

“A gift for me?” He catches it in the air, tears the paper to find a novelty apron that has printed – kiss the cook – on the fabric with an arrow pointing down. “This is probably the worst gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“You’re welcome,” you say with a mocking shrug.

“C’mere, baby, I have a gift for you too.”

“You do? I didn’t see you bringing anything.”

“It’s right here,” his pointer finger taps on his lips twice, “you have to come get it, girl.”

Grinning, you sit on his lap sideways. As one of his arms curls around your waist to keep you secured, his opposite hand frames your jaw, guiding your face to capture your mouth. He offers three small kisses, and then he nibbles at your lower lip, sucks it lightly into his mouth and releases it, just how you always like it.

“That’s all you got?” you purr against the corner of his mouth.

“You’re always so greedy, sweetheart. You think you deserve more in exchange for that crappy apron?”

“Yeah, I fucking do. It's the thought that counts.”

“That so?” Scoffing, he presses a kiss on your neck before picking you up and settling you down on the mattress without breaking a sweat. Locking eyes with you, he hovers over your body as one of his hands untucks the corner of the towel that was keeping it in place over your breasts, and spreads the fabric to the side to uncover your body.

With a low hum, he presses another wet kiss on your lips before having his tongue trailing down your torso. He leaves a wet trail from your neck, across the valley of your breasts, over your stomach, around your navel. The tip of his tongue viciously stirs your arousal before reaching the crux between your legs.

“Hi, sweet thing, I’ve missed you so much,” he plants a few kisses all over your vulva when he reaches that spot.

“Are you talking to me or my pussy?” you prop yourself on your elbows as he stares up at you.

“Hm, both. But mostly your pussy. Is that okay?”

“Sure. She’s missed you too. Have at it,” you laugh softly and place your head back down as he buries his face between your thighs.

His eager tongue traces every fold and inch of your cunt, collecting your juices at his passing. You ball the sheets in your fists as he slowly, but surely, makes your whole body buzz with excitement in a few licks. Your nipples harden and your head spins as the plane of his tongue flattens against your folds.

“Hmm,” you pull your knees further apart, close your eyes, and slide your fingers in his hair. “Be gentle. Walls are paper thin, baby.”

“Let her hear you,” he laughs against your pussy before letting the tip of his tongue lap around your clit.

His arms curl around your thighs, as one of his hands massages your mound, the other marks its fingers at the curve of your hip.

The pressure of his tongue is absolutely delicious. It keeps teasing around your clit for a long moment before having his lips wrap around that sweet spot. Up until that point, it’s easy to keep your moans buried in your throat. When he starts sucking and licking and grunting oh so fiercely around your sensitive skin, devouring you like a wild animal that has been fasting for days, he forces those drawn groans past your lips.

Your taste, the wanton sounds that he earns out of you, and the way your body writhes is the cause for his cock to bulge out his jeans. It aches for a good fuck, and he can only press himself against the mattress to gain some friction. His tongue has great determination to make you come before shoving his dick inside you. It’s all Michael thinks about, just burying himself in your slicked walls and filling you with his cum. It fuels his unwavering passion.

Out of the blue, you get momentarily distracted when music starts blasting through the walls, and you bring your hands to cover your heated face, realizing your roommate is definitely hearing you. As embarrassing as it is, you use that as an opportunity to just let go and focus on how good it feels to have him between your legs.

After a moment, you place your hands back down, knotting your fingers back in his hair and pulling as hard as you can, unable to control yourself as he brings you closer and closer to the brink.

It doesn’t take him long to make you meet that sweet undoing that elevates you to a higher plane. He’s always had that ability. But today is special because one – you haven’t seen the other for two weeks; the longest you've gone without benefiting from the other. And two – the unexpected surprise of him showing up earlier gives you that extra edge of excitement that has your legs trembling with practice eased in this afternoon delight.

When all your muscles seize up, and you can’t stop squirming and cursing his name, he takes it up a notch until you come undone. As your mind swirls in that bubble of pure bliss, he stops altogether, but keeps his mouth close to press soft kisses against your sensitive skin while your breathing catches.

You let go of his hair and let your arms fall to the sides, watching a blurry vision of Michael crawling over your limp, tired body.

“How was that, sweetheart?”

“That was beautiful. You’re beautiful. Everything your tongue does is beautiful,” you reiterate with a dopey smile, cause you can’t come up with a different word at this moment.

Staring adorably at you, he caresses your sweaty face as you regain enough strength to lift your hand and swipe his lips with your thumb to clean your juices lingering all over his mouth. “You think you got more for me, baby?”

“For you? Always.”

#michael berzatto x reader #michael berzatto #the bear #the bear fanfiction #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #darlingwrites #smut #fluff

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yrsdf · 6 months

Text

im the one

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

aggressive/dark!mike sub!reader

TW ( slight choking )

not proofread

all consensual

it was your birthday, you decided that having a fun night with the girls at a nearby club was a great idea and when you ran it by mike he was more than happy about you going out. you weren't the best without mike around, because he knew your limits and how much of a lightweight you were, but without mike around you figured some fun would be fine, that was until you were sat at the bar, slurring a conversation with a guy, a guy that you thought was mike but was actually a complete stranger, your drunken state making your vision sloppy and somewhat blurred made it difficult to realize this was not mike, one of your girlfriends had contacted mike with a simple heads up that you'd need a ride home because of your state and with that he was there soon after, he walked through the front doors scanning for you as his eyes land on you, you were conversing with a dude, some stranger that definitely was not your taste because you loved Michael but your hazy drunken vision had you under the impression it was mike, he made his way to you. pushing through the crowd and earning a few salty glares in the process, in a swift motion he settled cash on the table for the bartender and scooped you up and over his shoulder earning a yelp and giggle from you, his hand placed itself on your butt covering your panties from any wandering eyes. as he sat you in the car you mumbled some absurd theories about the crazed prices of booze, he closed your car door and walked around to his own side, sitting in the car and shutting the door (both of you were buckled up) he settled his jacket over your tired form and murmured something lowly to you, it was evident he was not happy by any means with you, he said something along the lines of "i'll deal with you tomorrow, teach you how to be responsible, sound good to you pretty girl." he said with his hand cupping your jaw and turning your head toward his, your tired eyes making slight eye contact with him and you hummed with a nod

You woke with a gasp as your hands dragged forward, but they couldn't, your eyes land above you noticing your hands were retained above you in cuffs and you choked out a moan your body squirming as you felt him, your legs were over his shoulders the feeling of his hands settled on your thighs with no pressure since you had been asleep (consensual) and his tongue was working figure eights on your clit, as your legs twitched at the feeling of his tongue licking up your juices relentlessly, his hands grasped your thighs and he held your legs against his shoulder with a bruising strength, you were uncontrollable, body squirming and an orgasm riling up in the pit of your stomach

“Please Mikey, feel s’good..”

His eyes looking up through a hooded gaze, his eyes cold yet lustful, you were close and he knew this, he knew every time you were close it was always a dead give away, you were extremely sensitive to everything he did so it wasn't very hard to coax a orgasm from your precious body, as you did that signature eye roll back with your mouth held agape he detached his lips, which had a unsatisfied gasp falling from your eyes.

“Such a sweet thing, look at you baby you're such a mess huh? Such a mess because of me isn't that right?”

You nodded with a whimper, the feeling of your high falling was definitely the worst feeling ever.

“Well dont worry, because im going to fuck you so hard, that youll make sure to be good and responsible for me next time your with friends.”

Before you could make a snarky remark he had your legs against his chest, your feet hanging on his shoulder as he pulled his boxers down and let himself spring free, in all honesty you were excited, you knew this was a punishment but you loved being punished, something about this time was different, the way he looked down at you and talked to you had you feeling so small. He ran his shaft through your folds, lubing himself up before sipping the tip in, earning a whine from you. You looked away from him as this sudden shyness crept up on you.

“Eyes on me.”

You didn't hear him at first, but you definitely complied when he shoved himself in all the way hitting your g spot almost instantly, your eyes looking at him instantly.

“There you go, keep those pretty eyes on me, i wanna see your face when i ruin you”

You nodded in response and he was quick to mark his word, you felt as his hips drew back and thrusted forward, continuing with a relentless pace, your eyes rolling back as the sound of skin smacking together was filling the room, your moans were weak and raspy from all the screaming you did at your party last night, you felt his hand snake down your lower half and across your chest eventually resting on your neck, his grip growing stronger as he took the air from your mouth, your eyes looking at him the best they could at least.

“There we go, look at you, such a fucking mess, such a fucking dirty mess..”

His voice low and rough as you nodded, his grip was looser but still there, his pace growing faster and deeper as you felt yourself drawing close, your walls clenching around him which was almost like a heads up that you were close, he kept his other hand on your leg so he could push it toward you a bit more, giving him access to your g spot, his pace was perfect, and hitting your g spot continuously, your head falling back as you came, your legs shaking body twitching and mouth hung open letting out nonexistent moans, his own mouth hung open as he let our soft moans his eyes shut as he stayed as deep as possible filling you up, just the way you liked it, he kissed your calf and smiled at you with tired eyes.

“Good job honey, such a good job..”

You knew really there was no punishment… really it was just almost like he needed to show you he would always be the one, be the one to show you a good time, the one to satisfy you. Maybe it was possessive behavior, but that was Michael, he always felt that deep need, that desire to make you feel as good as possible because when you felt good, he felt even better.

taglist

@mikes-gf

#yrsdf fic #fnaf #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf movie

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bllk-after-dark · 1 year

Text

der kaiser und seine worte der liebe.

the emperor and his words of love.

pairing. michael kaiser x female!reader.

content warning. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, lots of german words (translation is available), reader is female but no pronouns used, vaginal sex, oral sex, praise, pet names in german used, not actual fic more small snippets to each pet name

kaiserin. – empress.

It’s his most used pet name for you, the empress to his emperor. While he would love to call you Frau Kaiser, slap his family name on you, he knows you won’t say yes right now. So he calls you Kaiserin, with a husky voice, that usual drawl in his English coming full force the moment he starts speaking German. It’s a harsh language, but he softens it for you, to see you shudder when he calls you his, against your lips, your neck, your pussy. He will call you Kaiserin when calling you across the room, the word so weird for his fellow Germans, but to you it’s the sweetest thing.

Frau Kaiser. Mrs Kaiser

schatz/schätzchen. – treasure/little treasure.

He calls you Schatz rather often, throwing in this particular name randomly, but most times when you choke on his dick, tears in your eyes and your hands gripping his thighs with force.

“So gut, mein Schatz, so gut”, he will murmur, and you finally understand some of it, after he sat down and taught you. So you just moan, eyes closing and taking in his praise. Michael loves to praise you, be it in English or German, but to you, the words in his mother language are something special. And you especially love it when he calls you Schätzchen; these moments so rare, you’ll never forget them.

“So gut, mein Schatz, so gut.” So good, my treasure, so good.

süsse maus. – sweet mouse.

One that he uses when he’s sweet, after several rounds of ravishing you. Pussy drunk, he will praise you, comment and compliment you. You’re limp in his arms, eyes dropping but with a loopy smile on your lips, murmuring how much you love him and he will murmur those confessions of love back.

“Ich liebe dich auch, meine süsse Maus.” Then he will press a kiss on your temple, an even softer one on your lips and tell you to sleep, promising you he will be there when you wake up.

“Ich liebe dich auch, meine süsse Maus.” I love you too, my sweet mouse.

hase/hasi. – bunny.

It’s not one he uses often and never to express his love to you. No, when he uses Hase or even worse, Hasi, he does it to annoy you. Michael knows you hate it, ever since he made a comment about how horny you are, like a small bunny, jumping and hopping on his dick, and it spiraled from there. You slapped his chest, the orgasm that had been so close disappearing into nothingness. All the other pet names he had turned you on, but something just wasn’t right with that one. And he knew it. Oh how he knew it and abused that fact rather often.

“Sei mir nicht böse, Hasi, ich meins doch nur gut,” he would goat, trying to placate your anger at him, but it only made it worse. He ends up going to sleep with a dry dick.

“Sei mir nicht böse, Hasi, ich meins doch nur gut.” Don’t be mad at me, bunny, I only mean it well.

schnecke. – snail.

This one was the worst. You thought it was a sweet one for the longest time, when he called you Schnecke and you would blush, trying to hide your face from him (but that always happens when he talks German to you.) He wouldn’t let you, telling you to keep your eyes on him while he continued to fuck you, trying to make you cum on his dick only. “Komm schon, du heisse Schnecke, du wirst doch nicht wieder so lange brauchen um endlich zu kommen”, he had snarled then and you thought he was telling you what would happen if you didn’t keep your eyes on him. Oh, how wrong you were. You googled the word not long after that, remembering that one word he had often said during sex and you finally found out what it meant.

The next time he uttered Schnecke, you literally wiggled out of his arms and told him to fuck off, without giving him a reason. No way you would let him continue calling you a snail.

“Komm schon, du heisse Schnecke, du wirst doch nicht wieder so lange brauchen um endlich zu kommen.” Come on, you hot snail, you won’t take so long again to finally cum.

schnucki. – sweetie.

After the fiasco with Schnecke, you ended up googling all the possible german pet names Michael could use, since he wouldn’t teach you those. Reddit helped you with that, and so you came across all possible pet names, some of them sweet, others you hoped he would never use. One of them was Schnucki, or worse, Schnuckiputz. There was no literal translation to English, so you asked on Reddit and the amount of answers you got… yes, it was better he would never use that one or else you would straight up leave. And while the internet said it was a silly name for sweetie, after spending a longer time with German-speaking people, this was just a nightmare. It was an abomination. And of course Michael was so stupid and call you Schucki after stealing a sweet kiss.

You turned and left him standing. Maybe you should just go to Isagi, he seemed like a sweet boy and would never call you snail or bunny or-

Schnucki. Literal nightmare word for sweetie, like no, who decided that this was a good idea. Don’t even get me started with Schnuckiputz.

anne. so uh... it happened. i'm a kaiser fucker now. so ashamed of myself writing this because i actually speak german and let me tell you, writing dirty talk (or at least attempting to) in german hurts my soul and i will never do it again. that's a lie, i will do it again because i can actually speak german. in general, most pet names in german are just cringe and i will never use them but michael definitely would xD

#blue lock #blue lock smut #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x female reader #michael kaiser #michael kaiser smut #bllk michael kaiser #michael kaiser x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x female reader #blue lock imagines #michael kaiser imagines #↝ anne 🏛️

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your-honor-im-zesty · 16 days

Text

what do i deserve, really? part 2

Will never particularly liked the fact that he was a healer.

Oh, he was good at it. At the risk of sounding arrogant, he was extraordinarily skilled- healing came to him easily, like water floated within a stream. He could mend a broken arm or hum healing hymns as easy as breathing in fresh air or smiling in the sunshine.

But he didn't like it.

Growing up, he was surrounded by legendary warriors and fighters. Luke Castellan, Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Clarisse La Rue- just to name a few. Even his siblings- Lee, Michael, Austin, Kayla- were incredibly skilled, especially in archery.

But Will? He was a healer. Not a fighter. His "weapons" were gloves and medicine- while others wielded knives and swords, he wielded needles and stethoscopes. While others were entangled within duels, he was performing surgery.

Theoretically, it wasn't a bad job. He saved lives, helped people. Many expressed their gratitude after that- they thanked him for being there, for being so quick and clever. And he was aware of that. But still, Will couldn't help but resent it. In a group of combatants, he was the only medic.

People told him he was lucky- being off the field meant he was safe, for the most part. The worst thing that could happen to him was catching a contagious disease, or accidentally stabbing himself with a scalpel. But that was precisely why Will hated it so much.

Safety. It made him feel guilty, like a fraud. While people were out there, fighting, risking their lives to save the world- he was confined within the infirmary, perhaps suturing wounds or healing cuts. His hardships- sleepless night, excessive stress, the crippling guilt when death struck too mercilessly- were nothing compared to theirs: nightmares, long-lasting injuries, PTSD. And Will was painfully aware of this.

Nico, he knew, was a well-respected hero. He had traveled within the depths of Tartarus twice, had fought fiercely in both the Titan and Giant War, had helped deliver the Athena Parthenon- and not to mention, he was the son of the god of death. He could raise the dead and travel through shadows and talk to ghosts- he was absolutely legendary. He was one of the strongest people Will had ever met- not just physically, but mentally, too. Not many people could do all that while dealing with grief for their sister's death and manage to emerge triumphant, sanity intact.

Which was why Will couldn't, for the love of the gods, understand what Nico was doing with him, of all people.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Well?" Hades prompted. He was staring intensely at Will, as was Persephone, who now looked mildly interested. Across the table, Nico was stiff as a board, eyes narrowed at his father. He looked confused, angry, and perhaps a little...touched?

Will stammered a little. "I don't know," he said, more honestly than he'd expected. Nico's eyes snapped to him, surprised. "I really don't know, sir."

Persephone made a soft, tittering noise; Nico looked at her sharply. "That's enough," he snapped, rising from his chair and glaring at Hades. "Father, you promised-"

"I promised I wouldn't hurt him," said Hades coolly, without taking his eyes off Will.

Well, fuck. This was what the god of the Underworld's shovel talk looked like.

Maybe it was his face, or maybe she was starting to grow bored, but Persephone took pity on him. "Enough, darling," she said. "Leave the boy be." To Will's surprise, Hades leaned back and shrugged.

"If you insist, my dear," he replied, stabbing a fork into his chocolate cake. Will didn't like the triumphant look in his eyes, like he'd just proved some sort of point.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Apparently, Nico didn't like it either.

He cornered Will a few days later, in the infirmary. The blond was too busy stripping off his gloves and running his hands under cold water (he'd just finished a surgery on an Aphrodite camper's chest) that he didn't even notice Nico until his boyfriend was right behind him, breathing in his ear.

"You've been avoiding me."

Will jumped a foot, swearing loudly. He instantly regretted it when a seven year old Hermes girl peered over her shoulder from where she was propped up in a bed. Fuck, he was becoming a bad influence.

"What're you doing here?" he hissed, spinning around. He deliberately pretended not to have heard the previous statement. "It's fucking eleven at night."

"Could ask you the same thing," said Nico coolly. He studied Will, those dark eyes unnervingly like his father's. Then, in a far more hesitant tone, "Did...something happen? Is this about the dinner?"

Yes. Yes it is.

Ever since the dinner, Will had felt...off-kilter. He had always felt shitty about himself, but hearing those words from Hades had unlocked a new level of loathing. It was one thing to internalize it, and another for someone to point out that hey, you kinda suck. He was much more used to subtle insults- whispers behind his back, knowing looks exchanged right in front of him, eye-rolls or subtle barbs about his status as a healer. But being asked outright...

"I don't know what you're talking about," Will lied. He grabbed a towel and dried his hands. "I've just been busy lately- the infirmary's filling up really quick, now that kids are back for summer break." It should be shameful, how quickly the lie came to him- his father was the god of truth, and yet Will was an excellent actor. He could hide his feelings as easily as he healed people.

Nico's brows furrowed; he looked uncertain. Oh, shit- Will had forgotten his boyfriend had trust issues. He felt a surge of guilt, and remembered something Michael had once told him: lying will always come back to bite you in the ass, especially if it's to someone you love. (Granted, Lee had chided him after for swearing in front of 10 year old Will, but that wasn't relevant)

"I'm sorry," said Nico. He looked guilty now, which was infuriating because he had done absolutely nothing wrong. "My father...he and I haven't always been on the best terms, and I think it's just his way of caring for me. He hasn't been a father in years."

Oh- that's right. Will had forgotten that Hades was the only one to actually follow the Big Three Pact. He winced internally, but willed his voice to sound cheery. Peppy. "Yeah, no, I get that. Apollo isn't the most perfect dad either, but it's nice that he tries, you know?"

Nico looked at him a little suspiciously; had he sounded too happy? Maybe it was because Nico himself lied plenty of times about his own well-being. Like calls to like. A liar recognizes another.

"You should go," said Will quickly; he wasn't sure he would be able to withstand an interrogation. Wrapping an arm around Nico, he pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. "You need your sleep, Ghost Boy."

Nico relaxed slightly and gave a thin, wan smile. "So do you, Solace."

"I'll wrap up in half an hour," Will fibbed, withdrawing his arm. He still had at least five patients to attend to, but Nico needn't know that. "Go to sleep, di Angelo- doctor's orders!" he added, inciting a small snort that- stupidly- made his heart swoon. He would never get tired of Nico's laughs.

The dark-haired boy had hardly walked a few steps to the door before he paused and looked back. There was a slight frown upon his face. He looked...concerned. "Will?"

"Yeah?"

"You know...you know what you're worth, right?"

You're certainly not worth him, a nasty voice whispered in his head. You're just a healer, and he's Nico di Angelo.

Thankfully, he was spared from answering Nico's question; there was a loud thump! and he whipped around to see the Hermes seven year old sprawled on the floor, groaning. She waved an angry fist at the window above her bed, where there were faces- of her siblings, no doubt- pressed against, smirking and laughing.

Oh, what the hell? Will thought as he rushed to help her to her feet. He almost didn't notice the soft click of the door that hinted at Nico's departure.

------------------------

ugh ok so this is part 2 its terrible ik i'm not really feeling it lately, idk why lmao...couldn't bring myself to properly edit this shit but so many people liked part 1 i figured why the hell not...may discontinue idk

as a writer i love to make my fictional characters suffer and insert my trauma on them :)

#percy jackson #percy jackson fandom #pjo #pjo fandom #solangelo #solangelo fic #will solace #nico di angelo #will x nico #will centric fic #will angst #ugh fuck writers block

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captain-hen · 14 days

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i have an issue with the show i am not sure what to think about. i see people saying athena is a strong black female character and therefore awesome. but i just don't like her. i think she's a bully and constantly abuses authority. on multiple occasions she puts being a cop above the safety of her family (the bad stop, recently with harry being a victim of racism). she literally hit her own traumatized child. people keep talking about chimney punching buck, but everyone seems to forget athena hitting harry. idk, i also love some characters that are problematic, but i feel very iffy about such an uncritical approach just because a character is not a white cishet guy

okay, so...let me start off by saying i hear you, and this is an issue that i and most people have had with athena's character. that being said, conversations about copaganda have happened, at length in this fandom. it's not as common these days, but more so during the season 5 era—and i'd also like to add that the scene where athena slaps harry got a lot of pushback when the episode aired, and people were pretty outraged about it. i think it's just that this show has had a lot of copaganda since s1, and it doesn't look like that's about to change anytime soon.

i don't fully agree with what you're saying about athena, but, again, i get where you're coming from. i think the show's tendency to portray the police in the manner that it does often conflicts with how they choose to write athena as a character outside of her job, if that makes sense. that's why you get episodes like next of kin, worst day ever, rage, athena begins, desperate measures etc that make her look like an outright bully who has no regard for procedure or abuse of power. do i think this is gonna change? no. it's been like this since the very first episode and i don't see it changing.

the thing about 911 is, when it gets something right, it gets it really right. the flipside is when it gets something wrong...oh boy. that's how you can have important moments like michael talking to harry about race that feel very well-written coincide with insane scenes like athena playing devil's advocate for the racist cops who nearly shot her son.

honestly, i don't know how to approach this, mainly because i'm not american, and while i come from a country whose law enforcement has major, major issues, i'm obviously at the same time coming from a very different cultural context and lack of sufficient knowledge concerning the history, etc of policing in america. so i really don't know what else there is that i can say on this topic.

#neethu answers #anon

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inhuman-obey-me · 1 year

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Solomon, Nightbringer, and the Fight Over Humanity

(Not in that order)

So, we have plenty of things to discuss about Nightbringer.

It would be way too much to tackle it all in one post, so here we're going to focus on Lesson 9/10-A -- which provided an interesting insight on Solomon, angels and demons, and Nightbringer.

(We will, however, also be bringing up information in Lesson 11 normal mode as well, so, spoilers ahead!)

Let's start with Solomon, and his self-assigned role as a so-called protector of the human world.

Solomon, of course, is the sole human of the cast apart from MC. He is called the "Witty Sorcerer", as well as referred to as Solomon the Wise, and he's also known as the most powerful sorcerer ever to have lived. He received his Ring of Wisdom from Michael, and has pacts with 72 demons. In other words, he has ties to both realms, obtained power from both, and thus became the most powerful human magically ever to exist -- at least until MC came along. This is why he represented the human world when all the chaos was happening in Season 2, and why he is the representative for humanity now.

So, as the one who represents humans, in Lesson 9-A, he is asked to choose: Diavolo or Simeon? Demons or angels? Which road should humans follow? Protection or happiness?

In 10-A, he responds by calling it an "impossible choice." So he chooses neither.

This gives us a lot of context as to what he meant by "protector of the human world" -- someone who is trying to keep out those influencing forces. He wants the human world to be seen not as something "between" the two other realms, but as something capable of standing on its own and making its own choices. Rather than being something to be fought over between demons and angels, which have always been vastly more powerful than humans, but he wants humanity to be respected as its own neutral third party which should be left alone. Humans should be free to determine their own fates, not members of these other two realms.

(Interestingly, on a side note -- the line "I just want to be free, that's all" sounds a lot like something Thirteen would say! Perhaps that's one reason why, despite her frustrations with him and constant efforts to obtain his soul, she actually seems to understand him and be sort of close with him?)

Now, of course, this is a fake scenario, and Diavolo and Simeon themselves were not actually personally fighting over humanity this way. As he said, the place is "definitely strange" and, as he says soon after, is just a test of his convictions. Still, it effectively gets to the heart of what demons and angels have fought over since forever: control of humanity. Sure, Diavolo wants to establish peace and respect between the realms -- but outside of him, it gets at the heart of the bigger picture of the historical conflicts between the Devildom and Celestial Realm.

And that, then, brings us to Nightbringer, the character, and what their goals may be.

Solomon mentions that him wanting to be free is part of the agreement with 'him' -- and given the character he speaks to right after this scene is Nightbringer, we can assume that's probably who he's referring to. What exactly that agreement entails remains to be seen, but in their conversation we see that Nightbringer had wanted Solomon to choose a side.

Nightbringer also brings up MC, wondering if our involvement will affect Solomon's convictions, but Solomon insists that MC would make the same choice.

Nightbringer pushes the question, however, questioning whether Solomon can truly know how MC feels or what MC will do. It's no wonder then that in Lesson 11 Solomon tries to make MC promise that in the worst case scenario, MC would side with humanity. Whatever Solomon's agreement with Nightbringer is, it seems that it not only has to do with his freedom but humanity as a whole.

Which of course brings us to the big question: Who is Nightbringer?

All things so far have been pointing to Barbatos -- we see him in the opening animation and the prologue animation. We know Nightbringer has control over time, which has always been Barbatos' wheelhouse. Lesson 11 further seems to imply this, as we have an interesting link in conversations. In Lesson 10-A, Solomon says that Nightbringer "made him who he is today".

In Lesson 11, we learn a bit more about Solomon and Barbatos' relationship thanks to Thirteen. She mentions that Barbatos is the one who brought Solomon to the Reaper's Cave, and more importantly to the Fountain of Knowledge within the cave. That was also when Barbatos tells Solomon he is the "Witty Sorcerer". Thirteen also says before this that she blames Barbatos for how Solomon is the way he is because he let Solomon experience "anything he wanted".

This actually tracks with conversations all the way back in Season 3. We know that when Barbatos first met Solomon, the latter was on the verge of death after summoning Barbatos without a pact. We also know that Solomon was not known as Solomon the Wise/the Witty Sorcerer yet, but Barbatos knew he would be in the future.

(Wow, Solmare actually being consistent on something for once? Amazing.)

With all of that information, we can easily see Barbatos "being who made Solomon who he is today", and thus being Nightbringer. What version of Barbatos though, we have no idea, because it certainly isn't the Barbatos we are familiar with. But considering time travel shenanigans, as well as the fact that Barbatos seems to even have power over alternate universes, there are just too many possibilities to even begin to guess.

Now, before Lesson 11 we actually were ready to post our theory that Nightbringer could possibly be Michael. Why?

Solomon makes a mention that Nightbringer "sounds like a demon" with the threat, which is a weird thing to say to a demon

We've heard characters mention that Lucifer and Michael were both the head angels and similar in many ways, but also were in a sense opposites. Lucifer, as a Latin name, translates to light-bringer -- so Michael could be the opposite, night-bringer

Michael has previously sent us back from the past, back in Lesson 44, suggesting some degree of power over time -- although with the caveat that MC had come there via a dream, not physically as we have this time

When talking with Adam in NB Lesson 8, he mentions that he heard trumpets before meeting Nightbringer, and trumpets are often associated with angels, though Adam believed it to be a demon

Michael is the one who gave Solomon the Ring of Wisdom, also "making him who he is" in a way. You also have to complete all of Lesson 10 to unlock 10-A, and the last scene we see is Lucifer recognizing the Ring of Light on MC -- an interesting parallel, to say the least, timing-wise

However, there are plenty of holes in that theory, which Lesson 11 just seemed to amplify.

Us being us, of course, we actually would like to provide a third option for who Nightbringer could be. There just so happens to be another demon that Solomon has a pact with in the Ars Goetia that also has control over time, and is associated with the sounds of trumpets... :)

Of course, we don't actually expect the game to have suddenly put Purson in as another character in the game, but it's a fun idea. After all, Nightbringer could potentially be someone else entirely and Barbatos is just a red herring!

We'll just have to wait and see for now, and we still have hard mode to finish getting through too, but damn are we ravenous for more Nightbringer content.

#buckle up folks!!#obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nightbringer spoilers #obmnb #omnb #obey me solomon #obey me barbatos #obey me michael #obey me thirteen #obey me analysis #obey me & demonology

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lizaluvsthis · 3 months

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SMG4: Trash Friends

Shit. Hello guys- I stole my phone and it is currently 4 am and I posted this (Because it's scheduled on queue)

I'm still not here but I managed to grab the phone out of the room, I can post for a bit. But then again, I wont be catching up to stuff while I'm at it.

Okay so- this video is about SMG4 needing that usb where michael jordan is n stuff to become popular.

SMG3 is needing that one to become popular as well so that his shop would be flooded by customers.

And then where it comes to needing stuff, they'd do literally anything for their 'friends' to get it.

SMG3 lied to him saying the business is running good, he just didnt want to face the problem in front of the protagonist that he's going downhill with running the business.

"I'm finally gonna get the attention I deserve, and prove to everyone YOU'RE THE WORST VERSION OF ME!"

This? This was his thoughts. This is how it speaks for him that is why he was afraid to show that to him.

After SMG3 told Mario he needs that usb for Fame and Love because SMG4 has too much of that. He knew how much important it is to him. He wanted the same love like how SMG4 has, he'd never had all the attention like how SMG4 had too. He was lost of himself.

Mario being the gullible idiotic man he is, he never complained to three about his speak of truth, he had comforted his friends especially meggy. Mario figured that Three had exposed his inner emotions, the most that he can do is just vomit that sh-t out.

Right after Three hid Mario from his hat, turns out he really does need shampoo. I mightve noticed that he'd been staying up late at night and doesn't shower because of his bad habits.

Sometimes depressed people mostly forgot to shower and just cope sh-ts to themselves like curling up to the bed and wallow in sorrow. And mostly they just hide that feeling. And I guess you might've noticed SMG4 did. Thats the reason why he searched that up from the internet.

He was THIS obviously close to reveal he had been concerned about Three because he stinks.

When SMG4 told three what the matter was, since the only thing he knew from him is that his business is doing fine. SMG4 thought that three wanted that fame all to himself, being the selfish one he knew back then.

After four told him "you're being selfish! All you ever think about is yourself! JUST. LET. GO!" the soft spot where SMG3 got his by the heart because of it.

He never wanted to go back to being how he wanted to be. He never wanted to show that whole destruction thing again from his ecil doings. This was the rrason why he ever wanted to change into a better person.

"OKAY!" "Okay...?" SMG4 noticed where Three easily surrendered himself, letting his guard down due to his anger.

He opened up.

"YEAH! I dont know what I was thinking! I'm doing fine! My shop is ALWAYS flooded with customers, I'm SO successful. Nobody is EVER throwing my coupons in garbage.

AND I DEFINITELY DON'T FEEL LIKE THE WORST VERSION OF YOU THAT LIKES TO PRETEND HE'S DOING FINE!"

HE said that to himself. When he thought he'd be the worst ever version of him, because he was supposed to be an antagonist. He was supposed to be SMG4's enemy, but he was also supposed to be partners with Four because they were both meme guardians.

SMG4 didn't knew. He always didnt know all of SMG3's antics because he thought Three also had everything to himself. But he didn't know he also felt like this, like Trash.

SO THIS GOES ON WITH THE MORAL. SMG4 noticing it just now is that he felt like TRASH. Because last time he'd ever notice is just Three wanting attention of how the golden child (aka SMG4) is when he gains that love and joy with everyone from meme warts.

Yet Three is there saying that to himself. He was there being open to Four and to Mario that he is struggling as well. His whole life, his financial issues, everything that meant to him. He popped the balloon and spoke the truth.

Four picked up the coupon, he was sad about this when he had finally just realized the whole sh-t of things. Sure four has done alot of wrong things but this? This is sick to his guts feeling bad for three...

Four looked at mario because he knows how valuable of a friend Mario is when dealing with emotions and open ups. And so- he got to the talk with three.

With all thats settled, SMG3 came back and fist bumbs Four to know that he's good now. What I also didn't expect is that three after using the usb, Four didn't even stop him. He looks at three with those softened eyes and just. Wow.

Four really wanted to show three his kindness, he was soft on him so he gave him a chance. He wanted three to be happy too.

#smg4 #smg34 #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #lizafixates

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nerdiel-has-no-braincells · 8 months

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If I Stay

ft: michael kaiser x f!reader

summary: you don’t know how you got into this predicament, taking beating after beating, insult after insult, all for what? for your daughter, who your fiancée loves more than anything. you begin to think back on how you put yourself into this position

cw: aged!up, abusive relationship (not michael & reader), angst, physical and emotional abuse (not michael & reader), please do not read if this will trigger you (for your own safety and mental well being 🫶🏻)

It’s always easy to say that we would never let a significant other treat us badly. It’s so easy to tell ourselves that we respect ourselves too much to allow someone to put us down.

When we’re on the outside, we see toxic relationships and always tell ourselves that we’ll never allow ourselves to be in one until we do become in one. How hard is it to leave when you don’t remember the reason why you originally left?

That’s what you keep asking yourself as you look at your fiancée of 5 years. Why do you stay? Why can’t you bring yourself to leave?

Is it love? Is it because you’re stuck? Is it because you want to make it work? You don’t have an answer to these questions. But when you look at your 2 year old daughter, you can’t help but wish she wouldn’t hear her father yelling at you, calling you every name that had ever existed. You prayed she wouldn’t see the bruises that covered your body, causing you to be forced to wear sweaters even during the hottest seasons because he doesn’t try to leave bruises in easily hidden places.

You prayed so hard every night that your daughter would never allow herself to be in a relationship as toxic as yours.

You shielded your daughter from seeing and hearing the fights that go on in the night. You shed silent tears in order to not wake her from her slumber as you cowered in the corner taking punch after punch.

Your fiancée was a narcissist in the worst way. Not only was everything your fault, you didn’t do anything, you paid for nothing, and you never took care of your daughter even though you were the primary caregiver, everything was in your name, you were the one who had a steady job while your fiancée was once again unable to work due to his “back injury” that he obtained while at work.

He really did though, in the beginning. He went to physical therapy and you were there for him every step of the way until it became months after he had finished his therapy and was cleared to go back to work. Instead, he used it as an excuse to not work, do chores, anything.

Your days include taking care of your daughter, going to work at one of your two jobs, going to your second job, coming home to clean, make dinner, and continue taking care of your daughter. All while your fiancée sat on the couch playing games.

While you were at work, your daughter stayed with your mother, who had been worried for your well being. You never told her what really happens at home, always playing it off as just another silly argument, saying he was going to anger management, and that things were getting better. Your mother knew better, though, but the only thing she could do was love and be there for you. She’s tried to help you; tried to get you to leave, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You tell yourself time and time again that you love him and that’s the reason why you stay. You chose to relish in the good times rather than the bad, even when the bad outweighed the good.

That being said, you were looking forward to the weekend. Your darling baby girl had recently turned 3 and her birthday party was on Saturday. Your best friends, who you considered as family, were coming to spend time with your daughter.

They’ve always expressed their concerns about your fiancée to you, but they choose to love and support you no matter what.

Because you’re paying for everything out of pocket, you had reached out to take a rain check on the party because you didn’t have the money to be able to afford to take everyone swimming. One of your friends, Kathrin, offered to pay for it instead just so that your daughter could spend the day having fun with her cousins and aunts. You were so thankful and had talked to your fiancée about it, to which he agreed to it.

The day of the party, however, you were in the middle of getting your daughter ready for her party by dressing her in her favorite party dress, and your husband had passed by your daughter’s room after just waking up. Stopping, he turned back around and looked at you in anger, causing the hair on your arms and nape to stand. You instinctively turned around and shielded your daughter behind you as you stared at your fiancée, waiting for him to say something as he glowered down at you.

“Tell your little friend that she’s not paying for shit.” He finally speaks. “I don’t fucking accept handouts.”

You stared at him in disbelief.

“It’s not a handout. Kathrin genuinely wants Emma to have fun with her cousins and aunts.” You responded, careful to not raise your voice or change your calm tone. You didn’t want to start an argument but calmly talk it out. Sometimes he’d be in a good mood to talk things out and you were hoping, praying that today was one of those days.

“She’s not paying for anything.” He seethed. Looks like today wasn’t one of those days.

“All she’s trying to do is make me look bad. Tell her she’s not paying for shit.”

You scoffed before you glanced down at your daughter. Giving her a small smile, you tell her to go play with her toys so that she wouldn’t be in the same room as the impending argument that would shortly unfold before looking at your fiancée.

“She’s not making you look bad. Sometimes people need help and it’s ok to accept help. She just genuinely wants to make Emma happy.” You respond. When it came to your daughter’s well-being and happiness, you found your voice.

Your fiancée’s glare never wavered. He didn’t like when you talked back to him, especially when you were attempting to make him look like a fool.

“I know what your friends think about me. You think I’m fucking dumb?!” He shouted, causing you to flinch.

Wrong move.

He immediately reached out and grabbed you by your neck, lifting you up to where your feet barely touched the floor, dangling below. You grabbed onto his wrist, trying to get him to loosen his hold onto you until he threw you against the door causing you to choke in pain.

“I don’t give a fuck if your friends want to talk shit to me but the moment you open your mouth, you bet your stupid ass I’m going to shut you up myself.”

Squeezing his fingers around your throat, you feel your airwaves close and you begin to gasp for breath. Your body’s alarm bells ring and you begin to struggle and scratch at his hands and wrist, trying to loosen his grip on you.

In the corner of your tear filled eyes, you see your daughter in the hall as she sees her father choking you and begins to cry.

The one weakness your fiancée has is his daughter, so when he hears her cries, he immediately drops his guard and looks over at her. Dropping you to the floor, he runs over to her and scoops her up in his arms.

“It’s ok sweetheart, daddy’s got you now.” He soothes as he walks away, leaving you coughing on the floor trying to find your breath.

Damn him. Fucking damn him.

You reach for your phone and send a quick text to your friends that the party was cancelled. When they expressed their worries and asked what happened, you didn’t respond back.

As soon as you caught your breath, you go into the bathroom, turning on the light and looking into the mirror. Forming on your neck were bruises in the shape of your fiancée’s fingers, steadily growing darker as time passed by.

The tears that had formed in your eyes earlier fell and you felt yourself sink onto the floor. Covering your mouth with your hand, you finally let yourself cry.

That night, you gently got out of bed and dressed yourself in clothes that would hide your arms and neck. After your fiancée had calmed down, he apologized for what he did to you and cried asking for your forgiveness, which as always, you forgave him.

After putting your daughter to bed, he came up behind you and began to kiss your neck, apologizing over and over while you cleaned the dishes from dinner.

This happens every time. He would have an outburst, hit you, and then beg your forgiveness when he felt horny. So you ended up forgiving and sleeping with him. Today wasn’t any different and you wanted nothing more than to take your daughter and leave.

But you couldn’t do that to him. He loved his daughter more than anything and despite how horrible he is to you, he’s an amazing and wonderful father. Emma is his entire world and she loves her father very much.

Your friends and family have told you that it wasn’t healthy for her to be raised in an environment where you were being abused. You knew it. But you just couldn’t take her away from him so long as he never laid a hand on her. And a part of you felt like he knew that.

Leaving to go to the convenience store, you thought back on when you were laying underneath your fiancée. He kept whining about how much he wanted another child, a sibling for Emma. You weren’t ready for another child just yet. Not with him at least. So while you took birth control to prevent another pregnancy that would result in you being stuck even more than you already were. Yet another reason that would make you feel the need to stay.

As you entered the convenience store, you bought a pregnancy test and water. You couldn’t bring yourself to take it at home, so you took it in the store restroom. Even with birth control, there was always the chance that you could become pregnant still and while you didn’t experience any symptoms with your daughter, you found yourself becoming nauseated as the days went on, so you were worried. You couldn’t let your fiancée find out because then you’d end up underneath him every night to make sure you would become pregnant. You were thankful that you kept your birth control a secret from him, feigning an illness when you received the implant so you would never be worried. Unfortunate for you that you were.

As you washed your hands in the sink, you thought back to 7 years ago.

You walked along the halls of your high school after school while you waited for your brother, Alexis Ness, to finish practice. He asked for you to wait for him so that the two of you could go home together…after accompanying his friend Michael. You were supposed to stay near the field, but you got bored watching the guys kick a ball around. Or the one man who believed he was better than the rest, even your brother.

Not wanting to watch your brother subject himself to be treated like a dog, you snuck away during a play.

You love your brother, you absolutely do. He was just very protective of you. If anyone thought he was serious about Michael, it was worse with you. He wouldn’t hesitate to threaten any guy who came up to you, good intentions or bad. It made dating hard and you wanted to be able to experience your first boyfriend. Hell, you’d take a first date.

Passing by the classrooms lost in your thoughts, you felt a hand grab your arm and pull you backwards and into a hard body. Looking up behind you, you met the owner of the hand and body, who looked to be a couple of inches taller than your brother and he had an attractive smile.

Letting you go, he stepped back and rubbed the back of his neck while you turned around to face him, keeping silent. You didn’t know who he was but you guessed he had to find a workaround to talk to you since your brother scared away just about every guy in your grade.

“Sorry.” He apologized. “I saw you and didn’t know how else to get your attention without alerting your brother.”

You were right.

“It’s ok.” You responded, giving a smile. “My brother can be scary when he wants to be.”

He laughed and the sound of his laughter made your heart flutter.

“Yeah, he’s never said anything to me, but I’ve heard a lot of stories so I figured my best bet to talk to you was to wait until you were alone. N-Not that I was following you or anything, I was in the faculty office.”

Your smile widened.

“Uh huh. Sure.” You teased.

It felt nice talking to him. While your experience with talking to guys was limited to your brother, this conversation felt easy.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?” He asked.

You glanced over at where the football field was to see if practice was still ongoing. It looked like everyone was starting to disperse causing you to feel nervous. Once Alexis saw that you weren’t around, he was going to lecture you.

Looking back at the man in front of you, you nodded.

“Sure! Sounds fun!” You agreed, taking out your phone and handing it to him so that he could add his number.

As soon as he handed you your phone, it began ringing as if Alexis knew that your phone had been handed off to someone. You immediately answered and waved goodbye before you turned and walked towards the field.

“What’s up Alexi?” You greeted.

“Y/N where are you? I told you to stay near the field. What if someone kidnapped you while you weren’t around?!” Alexis lectured in a panicked voice.

Rolling your eyes, you exited the building only to find your brother running around in a panic while Michael was watching him in amusement. Laughing, you waved to get his attention. Alexis looked at you and ran as quickly as he could, enveloping you in a hug that caused you to groan when he body slammed you. Alexis leaned back and held your cheeks in his hands and it was evident he teared up from worry.

“Alexi, I'm fine. I got bored.” You explained. “So I was in the halls.”

“What if a pervert found you? Like one of the teachers?” Alexis responded with furrowed brows.

A chuckle was heard behind you as Michael appeared, which caused you to furrow your brows and glare at him.

“Let her be, Ness. You can’t ask her to sit there every day and expect her to not be bored.” Michael said, giving you one of his signature smiles, which caused you to roll your eyes.

Alexis dropped his hands and smiled at Michael, his cheeks tinted pink.

“You’re right! I can’t be overprotective all the time, especially during practice when I need to focus on giving you a great pass.”

You inwardly groan.

It was that day that brought you to your current predicament. That guy that was shy and sweet is now your abusive fiancée.

You were aware of his anger problems, especially mixed with his narcissism since back then. But he never laid a hand on you until right before you broke up.

It was a stupid argument that was so stupid you couldn’t even remember what it was about. But whatever it was about caused him to give you one good slap to your face. You held your hand to your cheek and stared at him in disbelief before you broke up with him and ran off.

You were scared Alexis would find out so you avoided going home for a while until you were sure your brother would be in his room.

What you didn’t expect was to run into Michael Kaiser. He had exited a coffee shop and you ended up walking into him because you weren’t paying attention; you just wanted to get away.

His trademark smile formed as soon as he saw you, but it faded just as quickly as it appeared. His brows furrowed and he gently placed his hand on your chin, tilting your head to the side to look at the fresh red mark on your face. Tears threatened to fall as he stayed quiet.

“Please don’t tell Alexi…” You whispered.

“Give me one reason why.” Michael answered sternly. “Or better yet, give me the name of the person who did this to you, liebling.”

Your eyes widened. You had never seen this reaction off of Michael. He had always had a carefree attitude. Looking away from him, you moved his hand away.

“I just know how protective he is of me. It was just a silly argument and even then, I broke up with him.” You bit your bottom lip as the tears formed in your eyes once again.

Michael stared at you not saying a word. It felt suffocating to you and you just wanted to run off. You didn’t even like this man but the simple action of him getting angry on your behalf caused butterflies in your stomach. It felt like an eternity passed before you heard Michael sigh as if he’d come to a conclusion in his head and didn’t like the thought.

“Alright, I won’t tell Ness.” He said.

You looked at Michael, the shock evident on your face. This was something else you didn’t know about him. You were sure he was going to tell your brother. He definitely seemed like the type who would at least hold it over your head.

“In return,” He said, gently taking some of your hair and bringing it to his lips. His usual smile on his face as he looked directly into your eyes.

Oh boy. You were tired of being right.

“Let me treat you today. You need to see how a real man treats a woman.”

Despite the disgust you felt, your cheeks were tinted pink.

Sighing, you recognized your utter defeat. If you didn’t do what he said, he would tell your brother. You would rather deal with him than the wrath of your brother.

“Fine.” You answered in a monotone.

Michael chuckled and winked before letting your hair fall.

“Braves Mädchen.”

It took everything in you to not roll your eyes at his response even when it made your chest tighten. You would never admit he had his charms. He annoyed you to no end.

Michael had successfully distracted you from that day and you were able to move on. Then 3 years ago, your ex came back into the picture.

Because you originally blocked him after that breakup, he couldn’t get in contact with you and as soon as he saw you at random, he got on his knees and apologized.

When you decided to hear him out, he told you after he hit you, he realized his anger was out of control and he went to therapy to better himself. He told you he had changed and missed you.

So you took him back.

And you saw that he did change. His anger was controlled around you and he treated you much better.

Until the day he proposed after your daughter was born.

Sighing at the memory, you picked up the pregnancy test and looked at the results: negative. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, not realizing how much tension your body was holding during those few minutes.

Throwing away the test, you exited the bathroom and rubbed the bridge of your nose before colliding into someone. You really need to pay attention.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You apologize without looking at the person.

“Liebling?” A familiar voice called out, causing you to immediately look up and find the familiar blonde in front of you.

“Michael?” You breathed.

masterlist | chapter 2 ⤠

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