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elk96 · 1 year

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Pushing My Luck With You

Pairing: Teacher ( OC, Insp. by Cillian Murphy) x Student (OC)

Warnings: age gap, swearing, English is not my first language. More to come in later chapters.

Word Count: 2204

Please let me know what you think if you read it, I'd love to hear from you!

Do you think we’re having a hiatus again”?, Stacey shouted right next to her ear.

“God, I wish”, Madlen murmured and sighed heavily. Who the fuck is screaming again?

It was so cold a day.

“I’ll go to the office and ask the principal”, Clair said.

“He’s definitely coming, don’t get your hopes up folks”.

“If he were to come, he would have done it by now. The class started fifteen minutes ago”!

Don’t come, don’t come, don’t come.

“Nick, give me the ball”!

“ Which exercises did we have in Maths for today? Madlen? What did we have in Maths”?

Madlen sent Mike to hell again, and all those idiots who were playing football inside the classroom, and Stacey who was shaking the whole desk in an attempt to erase something in her damn notebook. She put on the effort to wear her jacket again, and melted over the table.

“Maddie? Do you wanna sleep”?

“Yes”.

“You want that a lot”?

“A whole lot”.

“Alright”.

“I didn’t sleep at all yesterday”, Madlen murmured, finally raising her head. You can’t have it all in life, unfortunately, and Nick was absolutely not worth the prison time.

“Why, what on earth were you doing”?

“Guys he’s here”!, Clair shouted as she ran into the classroom, and closed the door shut. Even for the sake of a good first impression, everybody sat down on their chairs, hid away balls and cell phones and kept their mouths shut. An intense silence fell over the room for a while, interrupted by nervous laughs and whispers- a silence, however.

Finally, for fuck’s sake, Madlen thought and before she had exhaled fully, the door opened again. Of course…

Stacey elbowed her harshly, just in case she’d mind to take a look at the new teacher. He walked at a quick, heavy pace, heading to the teacher’s desk. He pulled his chair back and sat down. He pulled the chair forward and cleared his throat.

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen-I believe you’re too old to be called “kids”, right”?

“Good morning sir”!, “Good morning”!, “Good morning sir”.

Go to hell and let me sleep.

“My name is Darren Norman and I will be replacing Mrs. Matthews. But uh, you don’t have to worry, she’s told me all about where you are currently, curriculum wise, and all that.

We really couldn’t care less though.

“So, of course, I thought we’d start by introducing ourselves”, Norman said raising his voice to catch the attention of the kids in the back seats. “Um, what’s your name miss”?

Stacey hit Madlen at the elbow again. “Get up”!

“Would you like a coffee, miss? A pillow, a blanket”?

Madlen beat the urge to roll her eyes aggressively at the ceiling-always the same joke-, so, she just smiled shyly at the new professor. At least he had a nice voice-and an accent. Irish accent.

“Sorry sir, I didn’t get to sleep much yesterday”.

“Well, neither did I”, Norman answered coldly. “ What’s your name, miss”?

Madlen swallowed harshly, trying to ignore her annoyingly loud heartbeat.

“Madlen. McCarthy”.

“Okay. And next to you, is…”?

“Anastasia White. People usually call me Stacey”.

“Stacey, right. Next”?

About five minutes went by like that, Norman asking the names of the kids, and writing down if anyone was missing from the class. The room was completely silent, all kids scrutinizing the man in front of them.

Darren Norman was an introverted and shy man in his early thirties, who wore a navy blue turtle-neck and round glasses. He remained cold and serious, scratching his beard, or the side of his shoe. And his softer, more feminine features, round, big blue eyes, long lashes, full lips, came to contrast with a really chiseled jawline and sharp cheekbones. If not anything else, Madlen knew that madam Sheron would finally find some inspiration for her portraits.

“Are you Irish sir”?

“Indeed, I’m from Cork. You don’t have any relatives from there, right”?

“No sir, just asking”.

“Good. Have you brought your books with you today”?

Murmurs and nods spread across the classroom, all children united in an understandable refusal. Norman however, clenched his jaw, seeming almost scary with that muscle popping out.

“So…no one has their book for class today”?

Madlen pulled her book from underneath her desk and onto the surface, raising her hand hesitantly.

"Oh, but that's great"!, Norman scoffed. "One out of twenty five, as if you didn't know that there would be a new teacher coming today. Madlen- isn't that your name? Right. Go to the office and get me 24 prints please. Of the 88th page".

"But, sir, we only have 20 minutes left", Nick said, with all the world's justice.

"And what exactly are we going to be doing for 20 minutes huh? Stare at each other"?

"It would be our pleasure sir", Nancy commented, and Norman's cheeks flushed red with shame.

He fiddled a little with his roll neck, ran his fingers over his soft beard. Even though he was a brunet, his beard was reddish, complimenting his eyes perfectly. For once in her life, Madlen agreed completely with Nancy Limelight.

"Is this your first time teaching sir"?, Stacey asked, in an attempt to break the ice.

"Indeed".

"He likes indeed a lot, doesn't he"?, Madlen murmured under her breath.

"And before that"?

Norman turned to Madlen with a stare that would make even a four year old shut up.

"I was a notary".

"Were you fired"?, Nancy asked.

"I resigned".

"Don't notaries deal with money though"?, Leo asked.

"I studied Law, and then did a Master in Economics", Norman sighed. "So, please take out a piece of paper- from a spare notebook, a label from your shirts, I don't care-, and answer the question I write on

the board".

He opened his pencil case, searched inside with the intensity of a pianist hit with inspiration, closed the zip and pounded it on the table. Seeing Madlen, he stood up and took the marker she held up.

"Thank you very much Madlen".

"You're welcome", she answered, and a faint flutter in her heart warned her that the days ahead would be very difficult, indeed.

'Write down your thoughts upon David's decision to marry Dora, in accordance with his feelings towards Agnes.'

Madlen tried to analyze the handwriting on the board.

"What the hell is that sir"!, Luke complained.

Norman shot the boy another death stare. "Food for thought. It won't be graded, I'm just curious to see what you all think. You can write something about the book in general if you like. Mrs. Matthews told me you've analyzed it thoroughly in class".

Amongst whispers, deep sighs and exaggerated moans, Norman's request was executed. He sat on his chair, and remained watching the class, while the children wrote, talked or simply finished the next day's homework.

"The bell rings at 4 o' clock"?, Norman asked quietly.

"Yes, 4 o' clock".

Madlen looked at her watch. It was 3:57.

"Good. Pack your stuff guys. Whoever doesn't bring their book tomorrow won't be allowed in class. Have a nice evening".

Oh fuck you, Madlen huffed as she fought to finish on time. Next to her, Stacey was writing with the exact same hurry. Their classmates began to leave, creating a whole lot of noise behind them- cause this damn room couldn't have one minute of silence.

"Oh come on now"!, Stacey hissed, as Nick dragged his chair next to them.

"Knock it off, Nicolas", Norman murmured, walking past them. He has already packed his things, ready to return to his new apartment. "You can give them to me tomorrow girls, don't worry", he said softly and flashed them a timid, genuine smile.

"Two more minutes sir", Stacey said hurriedly as Madlen stood up to give her notebook to Norman. As she tidied up her bag, she kept her eyes fixed on his face so as to catch his reaction.

Norman almost burst out laughing reading her response. He returned the notebook, eyes shiny from the laughter.

"Finished! I'll give it to you tomorrow sir", Stacey said and flipped her hand to stretch her aching forearm. "Did you take your pen"?, she asked her friend.

Norman gasped slightly and shuffled through his bag to return it to the black haired girl.l. He accredited the slight shaking of his hands to his long trip and chronic lack of sleep.

"Damnit, it's raining", Madlen cursed, letting out a growl as she picked up her bag. She'd been carrying a whole library these days.

"I live in Willowdale, jokes on you"!

"Oh go to hell".

"Have a nice evening girls", Norman said, clearly unamused by their childish behaviour, turned off the lights and exited the classroom, followed by Madlen and Stacey.

Six minutes later, Madlen banged the door behind her and threw her bag over a chair. If she ever acquainted enough money, she'd build a highschool in Godstone as well.

"Jesus Christ"!, somebody shouted, whose presence in the room Madlen had no idea about. Quick after, two feet came out from under the teacher's desk, and finally, Mr. Darren Norman appeared.

"Haven't you left yet"?, he asked her in surprise.

"No! Because dad can't come and pick me up, so I'll have to walk all the way home"!

"Okay, you can wait until the rain stops".

"I won't walk home sir, I live 15 miles away. I was just kidding", Madlen murmured tiredly and sat on a chair. "What are you doing here"?

"I came to mop up the floor", Norman derided. "I was searching for my keys".

"Did you find them"?, Madlen asked, the cracks in her voice warning her to stop talking. She hid her face in her hands, holding her hair in her fists.

"Are you okay miss"?

She kicked the metallic legs of the table, and dropped her head back. The lights on the ceiling were full of spider webs.

"Yes, damn it"!, she answered, feeling his eyes piercing through her. "It's just that, I have a rehearsal tomorrow with the band, and I'm gonna miss it! Tomorrow we have our small concert".

"Are you in a band"?

Madlen nodded yes.

"And you play the guitar"?

The girl looked at Norman quite surprised. He was sat on the teacher's desk, arms crossed and his left foot hanging down. He was way too handsome for a teacher.

"Yes. And sing a little"?

"Jazz I assume".

Madlen snorted looking down at her clothes. Black jeans, black shirt, red checked flannel and leather jacket. And her hair, which concluded the stereotype of rock music fans. Feeling her heart beating on her chest she gathered her courage to make a compliment.

"Don't keep this nice personality to yourself sir", she said in a half smile. "Children appreciate a couple of jokes during class".

Norman fell into the defensive, cold demeanor that he had in class again. He took a quick glimpse at the window, a loud thunder framing his movement.

"I can give you a ride to the village…if you want", he murmured, eyes fixed on the window frame.

"I have to go home first, to pick up my guitar. It's a long way from the village".

Norman nodded lightly and jumped off the desk, grabbing his suitcase and bag.

"Why not call them and tell them to do it a couple of hours later"?

"Because we were trying to find a fitting time for about an hour or so. On the other hand", Madlen said excitedly, " the landscape- no, forget it…I wanted to say how beautiful the landscape is, but you won't be seeing anything with that rain".

"It's alright. Come on, let's go".

Madlen eyes shone with gratitude as she followed her teacher. None of them spoke a word as they reached Norman's car, running to it, as they didn't have an umbrella.

Madlen threw her bag in the backseat and started rubbing her thighs to get warm. Norman turned on the engine and the heating.

The girl remained silent, leaned over the window, freezing to the guts because of the moisture of the glass. She watched with empty eyes. the raindrops running down the window.

"Left"?, she heard Norman's voice.

That guy's still here? "Yes, left".

"And then right"?

"Left again sir. How recently did you move in not to know the way to the village"?

"Two days ago".

"And I suppose you've seen all of Godstone's sights already", she said in a sympathetic huff.

"I wanted some quiet".

"Yeah, cause you seem to have lead a very adventurous life up until now".

Norman looked at her coldly - no more than usual-, it's just that his eyes fell on hers and stayed there for a few seconds. Madlen sat up but didn't lower her gaze. If the new one wanted to intimate her he could try all he might. As long as she was on time for the rehearsal.

"How old are you sir"?, she asked innocently.

"Twenty eight".

Madlen raised her brows at that piece of information. "Well, then, welcome to Godstone Mr. Darren Norman", she said with a dramatic gesture, as they passed by the rotten road sign. This will be a year to remember. For all of us.

#tcm #male tc #teacher x student #cillian murphy #oc #writing #story #original story #broken 2012

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pezhead · 11 months

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Some old men on a road trip~

(Inspired by the concept from Meet me when the World Ends by WhyIsThisHappeningToMe)

#tmnt crossover #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt #raphael #donatello #leonardo #michelangelo #click for better quality #this hasnt happened in the fic #been trying to get back into a writing mood but drawing mood hit me instead :')#i promised myself id never draw for incomplete fics #whoops #it was labeled complete when i started sketching this out #but then they updated #mutant apocalypse #rottmnt movie #i forgot to draw April's broken fan 😑#meet me when the world ends

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saintmuses · 2 months

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❝𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧❞

Pairing:

Dark!Mike Kiernan x Neighbor!Reader

Summary:

Mike liked his neighbor a little too much that he was willing to do anything to have her even if it meant destroying her if she didn’t listen.

Warning(s): SMUT. Dub-con. Implied age gap (everybody’s grown). Infidelity. Soft!dark!Mike. Possessive!Mike. Manipulation. Hints of stalking. Blackmail. Technology is involved. Like this is filthy as hell. P in V. Fingering. Oral (f-receiving). Flashbacks in italics as well as phone calls. Minors, dni!

Word Count: 3.3k

Craning his neck, Mike inhaled slowly before exhaling as he tilted his head to the original position to look out the glass panes of his window to her bedroom window across the yard.

She couldn’t see him, but he could see her. She was opting for comfort by wearing a plain t-shirt and black shorts. He could tell she was not wearing a bra underneath which sent a slight shiver down his back ah the idea of getting his hands on her breasts.

He had learned everything about her as much as he could after he noticed her the first time a year ago.

The easiest way to have some sense of connection to her was being such a friendly neighbor with phone numbers exchanged.

“Are you lonely? Is that why you call me?”

He hesitated, “yes.” He murmured, a little white lie slipped from his tongue, using one of his fingers to trace the cord that connected to the receiver from the machine. “After Kasia broke up with me, it’s very quiet around here.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. We wanted different things,” he said truthfully. He had meant what he said, but he did not want them with his former girlfriend. He wanted them with his neighbor. “Apparently she fell in love with her roommate.”

“Ouch.” He could hear her wincing, and he smiled slightly at her next words. “Fine, I’ll be your shoulder for you to cry on.” She said exasperated, but with a smile in her voice.

First photo set of her in red lacy nightgown ended up in his camera roll on his slim device the first time he spotted her standing by the window unintentionally.

Also mentally filing away the fact she had a boyfriend who didn’t appreciate her. Beers and sports parties was his go-to dates with Y/N. He knew he could treat her far better than her boyfriend ever would.

“Just because I said I’ll be willing to lean an ear for you, it means you call me every night?” She huffed into the receiver, and he grinned because he could tell it was without a bite.

“You’re being mean,” he smirked, watching the clear liquid swirling in the glass as he shifted it.

“I’m not being mean.”

“Oh, but you are.” He said albeit breathlessly.

More photos saved into his camera roll as she wore soft burgundy lacy bra and panties that night.

“I saw you a few weeks ago with your face beaten up…are you okay?”

“Eh, just a misunderstanding. I had to clear it with the schoolboard. Skunk was being bullied by her two neighbors, and I stopped them.” He shrugged although she could not see him. “Guess the girl didn’t like the consequences, conspired with her sister, and accused me of being inappropriate towards her, and their father wasn’t happy with it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

The ringing ended with a click as it was picked up. Her breathing could be heard through the receiver as he waited for her to greet him.

“Hello?”

“Come up to the back patio,” he murmured, an urgency in his tone as he spoke into the receiver.

“Mister Kiern-“

“I know for a fact you are alone with a big bowl of what did you say is your favorite snack?” He inquired as he observed her through his window blinds.

She sighed, letting out a soft laugh that sent his heart into a state of pitter patter. “Puppy Chow,” she said petulantly.

He hummed in acknowledgment; he knew that of course. “And you’re drinking something with Moscato in the biggest wine glass you could find which I do have. So come up to the patio.” He said beguilingly, attempting to convince her.

“I have a boyfriend.”

A grimace flitted across his face. “I know but fuck him.” He said bluntly, irritation coated his tongue as he spoke into the receiver. “It doesn’t hurt to hang with friends. We are friends, aren’t we?”

A long pause then a sigh. “Fine, I’ll be there.” She relented.

He couldn't stop the toothy grin from spreading across his face. “Alright.”

Mike had been filling their wine glasses with her favorite wine twice now since she had been here for forty-five minutes.

He enjoyed being in her presence; however, she had to stop calling him by his last name as if it was going set any boundaries between them.

“Stop calling me mister Kiernan,” he murmured, sucking in his bottom lip, and swiping his tongue across it.

She looked at him in surprise. “What else am I supposed to call you?” She was confused, and he chuckled slightly.

“My name.” He stated the obvious.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He stared at her. “Say my name.” He leaned in, using his nose to graze the curve of her cheekbone. “Say my name,” he repeated softly.

Her lips parted; his eyes flickered down to them while he was internally smirking. She was almost susceptible to his wiles. Although he was silently begging for her to say his given name.

“Mike.” It was a whisper. A word that bridged the distance between them in a way despite not moving at all.

He tilted his head slightly, observing her facial features. “You’re stunning,” he breathed, staring at her.

She shifted slightly in her seat, clearly, she was uncomfortable with the compliment he gave her. “You’re just lonely and I’m the only one who’s willing to deal with you.”

Mike chuckled, seeing how she was attempting to deflect him. “I’ve been wanting to say that since I met you,” he admitted.

She hesitated, eyeing him before reaching for her bag. “This is inappropriate. I…I have to go,” she said quickly, stuttering as she stood up from patio sofa.

His hand snapped around her wrist in a vice grip as she attempted to walk past his legs that were in her way, he tilted his head to the side as he peered up at her. A hint of amusement in the lilt of his smile as if he found her attempting to leave funny.

“I have photos of you in your underwear,” the words were spoken in a calm tone, building the tension towards the threat. “If you leave now, I will gladly send them to your boyfriend.” He said casually, his thumb rubbed absentmindedly across her wrist.

She looked at him with wide eyes. “When did you…?” She trailed off, and he knew she was afraid of the answer.

“Every time you changed by the window. You forgot you had an audience across from you, didn’t you?” His tone went from calm to almost condescending with a hint of rhetorician since they both knew the answer. She had truly no idea she had a peeping tom club of one member.

“You wouldn’t.”

His lips curled to the side in a form of a nasty smirk. “Oh, but I would.” He then chuckled, without a sense of humor in his tone.

“We didn’t do anything, it’s just me changing my clothes by the window.” Her voice was weak, trodden like.

“Well, your boyfriend wouldn’t know that, would he?” He questioned flippantly, almost mockingly as his eyebrows raised. “All I have to do is send him those risqué photos without any context and he would just take it how it is.”

Her bottom lip trembled as she swallowed, “why are you doing this?” He knew she felt betrayed by him…more of his intentions since they were not true honest to begin with, and she was just figuring that out.

“I’m just tired of not having what I want…” his eyes trailed from her eyes down to her wrist that he held with a precision of a tight grip, “and what I want is you. Now sit next to me, sweetheart.” His tone booked no space for arguments.

His grip on her wrist eased up when she sat down next to him. He heard a slight echo noise when she dropped her bag next to her leg.

He inhaled slowly and deeply as his eyes roved over her body, relieved after all this time he finally got what he wanted.

Mike placed his hand on her knee, right next to her hands, gliding his thumb over her skin.

“I just want you.” He said softly, nudging her hand with his before he grabbed it.

Her breathing turned erratic, as a hot shiver of delight went through him as his hand eased her onto his covered pulsating cock and he began a fluid stroke in her palm, “you feel that?” He rasped into her ear, “that’s what you do to me. You’ve been doing this to me for a year.”

He could tell she was mentally calculating the math of when he had felt this way. “Ever since I moved here?”

“Even then.”

He wound his hands into her hair, cradling her head almost reverently, while he hungrily, desperately, violently, met her lips with a savage force.

He knew the circumstances were not idealistic, he knew she did not want him, at least not like this, but he was desperate for her.

His heart raced as she seemed to accept his request. He smiled softly into her lips and moved so that he was sitting on the edge of the furniture, his body pressed against the curve of her thigh as he pulled his glasses off his face and set them on the table beside them.

He leaned away slightly with an intent of reaching out with his hand and gently raising her shirt until the sliver of her breast began to reveal to his hungry eyes.

He then leaned down and started kissing her skin under her breast, lightly licking the flesh as he did so. His lips were teasing, making sure that she enjoyed every moment before slowly building up the intensity.

He was going to make sure she would like it even if she did not want to.

His tongue moved from the skin to the edge of her breast, his tongue slowly kissing along the edge as he pushed the hem of her shirt to reveal more of her breast.

His lips curled slightly when he heard her whimpering, especially when he nipped the curve of her breast before trailing his tongue from the spot to her nipple.

His lips continued to nibble on her breast while his tongue swirled around her nipple; gently teasing it. His hands moved up to her shirt, quickly removing it completely so that she was shirtless in front of him.

He leaned back, his gaze locked on her body before his fingers slowly traced down the curve of her body, moving from her chest to her hips before placing his hands on them.

He took a second to appreciate her body before his fingers slid into the waistline of her shorts, slowly easing them down her thighs. After he dropped the article of clothing next to the patio furniture, he settled his hands on her ankles.

“Spread your legs for me.” He said breathlessly, almost inaudibly as her legs parted, exposing her thighs to his ravenous gaze.

His hands trailed from her ankles to her thighs, gripping them before he reached for her fabric covered cunt, tracing his index and middle fingers down her slit before pressing into her folds.

She was soaking wet, and he could feel it through the fabric.

He smirked at her soft little pants as she let him touch her clit through her underwear. His eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of her hips shifting, her thighs widening slightly as he traced her sensitive spot.

He continued sliding his fingers of his other hand along the soft skin of her thighs, his thumb gently teasing the edge of her underwear.

He then leaned back to stand up, removing his shirt in process until he was bare chest. Then he removed his pants, only in his boxer briefs.

Mike grinned as she watched him remove his shirt and his pants, exposing the shape of his slim muscles and pale chest. Her gaze was roaming over his body before he sat back down in the same spot, leaning forward again.

Mike’s fingers moved to the edges of her underwear, beginning the process of removing them.

She closed her thighs so he could get the underwear down easily before parting them even wider to expose her vulnerable spot to him.

He smirked at her easy cooperation as she parted her thighs. He had expected her to be a little hesitant and resistant, but she wasn’t making this a challenge.

His fingers moved her folds apart to reveal her swollen clit after he removed her underwear.

As she was now exposed to his hungry gaze, Mike leaned down to kiss her spot, lips caressed her folds gently before parting it to let his tongue trail up her cunt, lapping at her wetness. He swallowed it before kissing her spot again, then leaned back to look up at her face, his lips curved into a soft grin as he observed her reaction.

Her lips parted as her eyelids were closed tightly. Her face was flushed from arousal.

“Such a sensitive girl,” he cooed softly, rumbling softly in his chest.

Opening her eyes, she flushed profusely. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just…I’ve never been touched.” She mumbled.

Mike chuckled, however a thrill shot down his spine at the thought of being the first one to take her, despite having a boyfriend and knowing she used her sex toys to play with herself.

His chuckle faded, only humming to indicate his understanding before he leaned down to kiss her sensitive spot again.

“There’s no need to apologize,” he said softly, his lips still on her cunt. “I was just…observing how sensitive you are.”

He kissed her clit again, this time, using his tongue to explore the texture on her sensitive spot, gently kissing and lapping at her cunt some more until her hips began to shift slowly as she parted her thighs even wider.

He then leaned back slightly to grab his phone that was lying on coffee table, and he looked up to see her gaze on him. She was confused, looking at him with a question in her eyes, clearly waiting for an explanation.

“I just need to capture these moments,” he responded softly, a smirk on his lips as she parted her thighs even more, exposing her sensitive cunt to the dimming light of the sky. “I want to remember every moment of you.”

She breathed, looking away shyly before closing her eyes .

He felt her skin as he parted her folds slightly, feeling her hole gaping slightly as he did so then he bit down his bottom lip as he pressed the icon that indicated a photo being taken.

He parted her folds even more, this time, moving his finger gently into her hole. He felt it tightened slightly around his finger as he took another picture.

“I need these images of you,” he murmured as he took another picture. More pictures began to pile into his camera roll, more digital prints to jerk himself off to later whenever she was not available.

Mike’s breath grew deeper from the sight of her lips parted and her eyes clamped shut from the soft noises she was letting out as he pushed down on the side of the opening to make it gape wider.

He felt her walls attempting to tighten around his finger as she whimpered, and he took another picture, this time, making sure that the camera captured the up-close position of her cunt.

He smiled softly, eyeing her as she opened her eyes, and he placed his phone aside to her thigh. He took a long look at her, observing her reaction as he withdrew his finger from her cunt.

He then reached for his underwear, pushing them down his hips then his pale thighs. Pushing them off to the side after it reached around his ankles, then he propped himself onto his knees on the cushion between her thighs.

Mike inhaled sharply when he noticed her curious eyes on his cock, he slowly began to hover her, wanting to keep her gaze on it while his eyes were locked on her cunt, his body and demeanor suggesting that he was ready to take her body and make her his for his own enjoyment.

He dragged her thighs until the back of her thighs meets the sides of his legs. Making him almost pressing against her. while he was stroking himself lightly, he only placed the thick tip of his cock against her little hole with no intention of taking her just yet.

His body language was one pure dominance and lust. He had a grip on her thighs, keeping her legs from moving too much so that he could fully enjoy her body however he pleased.

Mike moved her legs as he adjusted the position of his body over her body. He had his device ready once again, the thick tip of his cock placed against her little hole.

He smirked to himself as he aimed the camera at her cunt, getting the picture he desired.

He then switched over to video format, pressing to record as he used his other hand to use his thumb to stretch the hole lightly, teasing his thick tip with it as it gaped slightly. His throat rumbled with a slight groan as her hole was beginning to stretch by his thumb and the feeling of it felt good against his cock.

He made her legs part even more as he held her thighs, keeping her in place to ensure that he wouldn’t miss a thing, that the recording wouldn’t miss the sight of it.

He pushed into her opening just very slightly, letting her feel the tip of the thick head of his cock before pulling away slightly and repeating the process.

He was enjoying the expression on her face, seeing how she squeezed her eyes shut and let out soft little whimpers.

His fingers were firm on her folds, keeping them apart as he continued teasing her hole, pushing his cock in into her cunt slightly and then pulling out as he filmed it.

His eyes then widened as he saw her hands pulling her folds apart to make her little hole gape wide, exposing her sensitive area beautifully to the camera. He groaned a bit at her action and used his thumb to slowly trace her hole as she kept her thighs parted while letting him film it.

Mike pushed his thick tip into her opening with more force this time, the tip slowly slid into her hole. His breathing became deeper, almost ragged as he slowly entered her cunt deeper than before.

He stopped filming it, throwing the phone to the side and gave her a harsh thrust as he slammed the rest of his cock into her, making her cry out.

He let out a grunt as he felt the heat enveloped his girth, “fuck.” He breathed as he gripped her hips tightly. His fingers flexing into her skin as he reared back and thrusted back into her with such force.

She whined loudly, arching her back before he began to drag her along with him as he eased himself onto the cushion, his back pressed against the patio furniture.

She muttered brokenly as she sunk down on his length. “I- “ she was out of breath already, her eyes half lidded as her hands held onto his shoulders.

“Fuck.” His hands grabbed her hips to control her motions, using his hands to guide her up and down. “Taking me so good,” he grunted in her ear before leaning away slightly. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her bouncing on top of his thighs.

#mike kiernan #broken (2012)#cillian murphy x reader #mike kiernan x reader #Mike Kiernan x you #Mike Kiernan x y/n

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nathan-fielder · 6 months

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Will you do one thing for me? Will you just apologize to Skunk for me? For all the embarrassing shit - that she's had to witness. 'Cause she's a terrific kid. You know, and someday she's just gonna blow us all away. Do you reckon… She's… Kasia, someday she's just gonna blow us all away.

Cillian Murphy as Mike Kiernan

Broken (2012) dir. Rufus Norris

#cillian murphy #broken #broken (2012)#mike kiernan #mike <3333 #cmurphyedit #filmedit #movieedit #filmgifs #moviegifs #cilliangifs #2010s #drama #find out why he gets beat up in this one!#*

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zegalba · 6 months

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Daniel Arsham: 'Shielded Figure' (2012) medium: broken glass and resin

#Daniel Arsham #Shielded Figure #sculpture #art #body #white #glass #resin #broken glass #figure #2012

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incorrect-tmnt2012-quotes · 2 months

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[After Broken Foot and Leo stops being apart of Karai’s Foot Clan]

Karai: It’s like I don’t even know who you are!

Leo: Yeah, you do! You asked me to change anyway…

#incorrect tmnt quotes #source: trolls band together #tmnt 2012 #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #karai #leonardo #the broken foot

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365filmsbyauroranocte · 3 months

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Broken Specs (2012), Travel Plans (2013) & Going Out (2015). Three short films by Ted Fendt

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cellarspider · 2 months

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12/?? Things come to a head

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

⛬

We return to that shambling mass of a film, Prometheus.

Content warnings for body horror, contagion-y stuff, something that loosely be described as medical horror, It’s Been 0 Days Since Our Last Incident, and me, going on a ramble about movie gore to distract myself from The Madness.

There's a lady in this scene who's had a number of speaking lines so far–the maybe-chemist. She has a name, but it doesn’t matter.

But I'm going to call her Doctor Frankenstein.

They have just got the helmet off the head, revealing that it’s truly, unmistakably humanoid. They have noted that there are “new cells” on the head. In the business, we call that “decomposition”, but Doctor Frankenstein is not concerned with this. In fact, she immediately proposes a new plan.

Doctor Frankenstein has had the brilliant idea to plug a big cable into the head like it’s a guitar amp, and zap it with electricity to wake it up.

Yes. This is what the movie goes with.

You know, Alien included a similarly shambolic first examination of an alien subject, but it was performed because said alien was attached to a man’s face, and all they had to try and fix that was the contents of a cargo ship’s medbay, with the only qualified personnel being the corporate android who had been ordered to consider the crew expendable. The crew of the Prometheus has no such excuse.

Well, except for David, he has precisely the same excuse, but he’s not trying to poke wires in anybody’s ears.

Doctor Frankenstein calls for enough amperage to run three electric kettles (cite 3), then all the way up to two Titan RTX graphics cards before the head starts to get what appears to be a massive migraine.

I know this expression well, migraines can feel very much like someone is subjecting me to unnatural horrors.

This is getting a little extreme, though. Yes, when the head starts pulsing, they realize they may have made a mistake.

I’d say this was inexplicable behavior on their part, unbelievably hasty and foolish–and I will say it, actually, it deserves to be said. But in context, this is the team that did so little prep for entering the alien structure that they didn’t notice the giant fuckoff skull carved into the outside of it.

Knowing how much Shaw and Holloway read into the intentions of the Engineers from the depictions they found on Earth, they probably would’ve interpreted this as a good sign, somehow.

Anyway, they put a sneezeguard down over the head before it explodes.

Good job everyone. This is like what would’ve happened if Napoleon’s savants took one look at the Rosetta Stone and decided “maybe we should try hitting it with hammers. Surely that’ll make the knowledge fall out.”

From a horror perspective, this scene only works in two contexts: First, gross-out. Generally found in schlock, exploitation, and outsider art flicks, the tone of gross-out content can be highly variable, but there are two general trends I'd mention, which are of relevance to this movie.

First, gross-out tends to exist in that weird alternate space where lots of comedy movies do: characters will behave in unreasonable ways for no apparent reason. Within the film, this is treated as the universal norm, besides maybe a straight man character who highlights the absurdity. Gross-out is often like that, but pushes different boundaries of acceptable behavior than a traditional comedy.

This is, bafflingly, what Prometheus increasingly feels like. It feels like it's transitioning into gross-out schlock, and yet it never goes all the way.

Second: the audience for gross-out is largely self-selecting. If you're watching John Waters' Pink Flamingos, you expect things to get messy. You are looking forward to things getting messy. A head exploding is perfectly par for the course in gross-out horror. One might even be disappointed if there wasn't an exploding head.

But again, this movie was not marketed on gross-out. It was marketed as a tense, Alien-esque horror movie. If you followed that premise like I did, you're not in the theater to view a debauched spectacle, you're there for the movie to put a well-paced squeeze on the characters and your nerves, where half the horror comes from having the room to really think about how frightening the core concepts of the series are.

Does Alien involve some shocking gore? Sure does! But in Alien, Kane's fate is not there to make you laugh and exclaim "ewww!" at how far the film's gone, the film tries to make you very aware of how horrifying his demise is.

So, there's an alternate way this scene works, if you're coming in from that perspective. I don't think the movie intended this as much as the gross-out, but it's what I drew from it at the time: the scene works if you decide not to focus your sympathies on the human characters at all, or even David, and think about it from the perspective of the head.

It’s patently impossible that what they did actually “woke up” the brain inside that skull. But if we sink to the movie’s level and entertain the idea for a moment, what in the hell have they just done to this Engineer? The last thing the head would’ve remembered was running, falling, decapitation, and then this. They just tortured this poor bastard for no adequately explained reason. There’s none! “I think we can trick the nervous system into thinking it's still alive” is the entirety of the explanation. It makes about as much sense and seems as thoughtlessly violent as anything in Mad God (2021, content warning for body horror).

I already spent all my anger about desecrating bodies in the name of shambolic pseudoscience, I have no more rage to give for now. And similarly in the theater, I hit my limit. I’d already hit a different limit back when they landed the Prometheus on top of some archaeology, but now I’d fully given up on this movie being what I’d hoped it would be.

The maddening thing that keeps me obsessed with it is that it keeps throwing random scraps of that hypothetical movie into the mix anyway, bouncing me like a yo-yo between scenes.

But for right now, the yo-yo is still on the descent. Having exploded the first sample of alien biology ever touched by science, they apparently stuck some of it in a generic, science-y DNA machine. What does the DNA machine tell them?

“DNA match”.

The movie does not actually explain what this means. It thinks it does, but in a very vague and handwave-y way that ends up being even more hilarious than if they’d just been out-and-out wrong. Because this is what I do for a living, I want to science at this for a bit.

But I’ve written enough about it for an entire post on its own, so that will wait until next time.

⛬

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

⛬

Citations for alt-text rambles, as well as some text-text rambles:

1. https://www.behance.net/gallery/78297841/Semiotic-Standard (contains a high-quality download for the symbols, should ye wish them for yourselves)

2. https://www.sculpturedepot.net/clay-wax-tools/product.asp?Steel_Tools

3. Doctor Frankenstein calls for 30 amps first, then 40, then 50 in the space of several seconds. According to wikipedia, an electric kettle is about 16.6A, and a 288W high-performance graphics card would require 24A. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orders_of_magnitude_(current) That graphics card isn’t mentioned by name, but it matches up with the wattage reported by Tom’s Hardware for a Titan RTX (cite 4). Running with two of these things, you might be able to run 4k Ultra settings on some games without tanking your framerate. They could’ve been playing video games and seen way more exploding heads.

4. https://www.tomshardware.com/features/graphics-card-power-consumption-tested

5. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alien_(film)#Design

6. https://www.reddit.com/r/MovieDetails/comments/f4rf63/for_the_chestburster_scene_in_alien_1979_the/

7. https://i.pinimg.com/736x/8e/2f/9b/8e2f9b0716746aac7ce5b2f369bf4082--aliens--scene.jpg

8. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karyotype#Human_karyogram

9. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Centromere

10. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Centromere#Telocentric

11. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G_banding

12. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Proteinogenic_amino_acid

13. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hula_language

#Prometheus 2012 #Prometheus (2012)#This movie is a study in so much tonal dissonance #It was so pretty and yet so broken #insert Benoit Blanc “compels me though” meme here

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imagionationstation · 13 days

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Do you have any au ideas you’d like to share? Preferably 2012 Donatello centric..

*Bats eyelashes innocently.*

(If not, no problem! I really don’t mind lol)

*stares at you*

*stares are you harder*

I never in my life imagined that I would get this question. I’m the concerning individual who spends my days hunting down Donnie AUs to quench my insatiable thirst for content. What are you doing.

You are not meant to ask me.

BUT SINCE YOU ALREADY DID NO TAKE-BACKS

Okay, so other than this masterpost that I made for everything that exists in some form, I have an AU that’s been on my brain for the last ever but I never started it because What Was Lost was/is already in the works. Activity focusing on two AUs about the same turtle at the same time is unwise.

Though writing What Was Lost and Feral Raphie is no picnic

Introducing: Broken Spectre AU

This AU is a ✨crossover✨ between Rise and 2012. Both shows happen in the exact same pattern up through the Movie and the episode The Power Inside Of Her. The only difference is how April brings Donnie back…

You see, at the same moment that Donnie was popped in the night sky (wow, my own imagery is messed up), another dimension’s Micheal was doing what he was absolutely not allowed to do under any circumstances- practicing his powers without a brother present.

It wasn’t planned or anything. With Leo resting, Raph getting pizzas, and Donnie in his lab- an opportunity presented itself and he took it! Michael’s brothers never let him try the really fun stuff because his magic is still in recovery, and his cracks reamerage when he pushes his powers past mediation. They’re smaller now, healing with time like Draxum promised, but they still scare the shells off his loving, overprotective family.

There’s something so freeing about tapping into the strength whirling in his chest- like waking up fully rested and confident after a good night sleep. He really wasn’t doing anything. Playing around with chains, painting with magic. Nothing insane.

And, just as he’s putting the finishing touches on his canvas of sparkling gold, he feels a tug. An agony. A hurt. Something being ripped apart like a paper, life tossed about like confetti. It vibrates through time and space like nothing ever should, and he knows that, he knows it’s not right. Mikey can feel it, like his brothers standing next to him, touching his ninpo, a soft tap of fluttering life- and when he focuses, he can feel every sensation of their agony, every inch of their panic, every glow of life that fades away, merging back with the universe. It’s dying. It’s scared and it’s alone and it’s dying.

He doesn’t realize his eyes have lit up in a shining yellow. He doesn’t know that a portal is open in front of him, thinner than his portal to the prison dimension, but just as strong. He doesn’t know he’s reaching through, that his ninpo is calling out. He doesn’t know that he takes, blue dots fluttering at his fingers, turning into a ribbon of purple, flowing into his palm. He feels a sudden disruption, an error with his ninpo, like a fence surrounding wild sheep, forcing them into adapt and graze in a smaller land.

His ninpo cuts off, and the light leaves his eyes. He falls to the ground, heart pounding and body flushed with adrenaline, staring at the blank wall, void of the gold that lit up the area. He breathes, shocked and uncertain, before he gets to his feet.

“What-?”

He screams, whirling to face the quiet voice, scrambling back from the specter cloaked in gray. It pulls three reaching fingers back, eyes composed only in black and mouth curved into a frown. It’s brows furrow, a band of light grey around an oval head outlining the action, mouthing opening to reveal a small gap. It’s stands tall, but it’s voice is a whisper formed of thin air, echoing in Mikey’s head.

“Who are you?” It questions, soft and distant. Then, almost as an afterthought, “Who am I?”

The first question is a breeze.

“My name’s Mikey, and, um…”

If only the second is as easy.

-This clip is pending editing to properly analyze Michael’s brainspace and actions in this moment and confirm what should remain and what should change. This is merely an experiment-

NAH SO LIKE HELPFUL KIDNAPPING, IG

I’ve seen a couple Donnie-in-Rise stuff and I think this could be SO ANGSTY. Michael interfered with events and tried to help, but he only ended up stealing away a piece of his soul. So when April brings him back together- he’s not the same. He blanks out on them, confused about the simplest things. He forgets names and things and places. He has trouble retaining new information. His ki is faded and no matter how many times that Leo says that it will heal, it doesn’t. Eventually, they realize that he isn’t simply drained. He’s been sliced, separated, divided. A piece of him is missing.

And without that piece, he’ll only continue to deteriorate.

And that piece is hanging out with Michael. It simply exists, passive and snarky, confused but unable to recall ever not being a spirit. He’s forced to be wherever Michael is. He doesn’t really care. Mikey is the only constant- the only thing that he’s ever sure is true. Michael doesn’t mind the companion. At least, that’s what he tells himself, determined not to reveal to his brothers that he went behind their back to do what he agreed never to do.

The Spectre makes commentary that his brothers can’t hear, nostalgic for things that he can’t remember. Mikey encourages him to talk about it, hoping to learn anything that might tell him who this stranger is. It comes in random spurts through the day. He has brothers. One of them cooks, like Mikey. Another worries, like Raph. Acts braver than he is, like Leo. He has a sister. She’s never around. He has parents. He thinks one of them is dead.

He has a home. He can’t recall anything about it, but it exists. He always becomes small, burdened by what he can’t remember, broken by what he doesn’t know. He hates thinking about it.

“I don’t want to be here, without them,” he says in his ghostly, whispering voice. “I think you should have let me die.”

Mikey tries to pretend that absolutely nothing is wrong, but eventually, his brothers start to catch on to his avoidance. How awkward he is around them. How often he talks to himself. How drained he always seems. And they bring this up to Draxum.

Mikey does his best to avoid any kind of intervention, but against his will, his brothers preform one anyway. They find out the truth, and Draxum discovers that Michael’s ninpo has been invaded. In order to save the piece of a soul, he’s using his own ninpo to keep it alive. Ninpo isn’t meant to be used 24/7. He’s draining his own reserves, and if he keeps it up for too long, he may irreparably damage his ninpo. The only way to solve the problem is to release the spirit.

Something that Mikey absolutely refuses to do.

If the Spectre is a missing piece, then Mikey wants to put him back together. Mikey refuses to let this piece disappear into nothingness when he had the ability to fix it. He doesn’t know how or when, but he’s going to fix this. He messed up by separating him. Even if it’s just bringing the piece back so his spirit can die properly, he’ll do it.

No matter what the cost. Not matter what it takes.

He has a family out there. Mikey has to try.

And, of course, his family has no intention of letting him do it alone.

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