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#and then nothing will be able to take Michael from him. and then nothing will be able to hurt him.
devildomwriter · 2 days
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Can i get some headcanons on the angels being guardians of MC? 👀 In the manga, a pact with a demon requires them touching foreheads to make it, and they have to listen to their master's orders. What can the guardian and the charge do? Call for the other for help? Know when the other is in trouble or just need a hand? -Water Anon
Guardian Angel Headcanons
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• An Angel canonically can only be the guardian to one human. It’s not specified if it’s one at a time or not and if they’d be able to guard someone again when the previous charge has passed.
• They get chills when their charge is in serious danger, they can hear their pleas for help, and stronger angels can answer telepathically if they only need an answer to a question or reassuring words.
• They can dispel viruses and curses more easily than if they weren’t your guardian, and can heal virtually anything with ease, be it mental or physical, whatever you ask for.
• They will immediately put their lives on the line for you and will not allow harm to come to you while you are their charge.
• If they for some reason cannot reach your side when you are in danger or in pain, you will receive some of their energy to keep you safe.
Simeon
• Simeon’s style of guarding is very relaxed. He believes it’s better you find things out for yourself and will give gentle pushes for you to find the right answers or make the right changes.
• He will always show up if you call for him, even if it’s ridiculous, because he loves you so he’s always willing to pamper you, but he does have a job so you might have to wait sometimes.
• If you’re in serious danger, he’s there instantly because he already sensed it. Simeon is normally calm and relaxed so to see him become serious and upset when he needs to protect you from something can be very surprising. If it’s person putting you in danger, his sadistic side comes out with cheerful smile and laugh as he takes care of the threat—as an angel he can’t kill them but the fear he instills is enough.
• Simeon can always tell when you need him, even if it’s not dangerous. He’ll be there for a pep talk, comfort kisses, cuddles, and a nice meal.
Luke
• You’re a handful. He has his work cut out for him, and before this he thought you were the most normal of the bunch.
• “No, MC don’t touch that!” “But you’ll protect me right?” “That’s not the point— NOOOOO MC!”
• Thanks to your guardian pact he can hear your pleas for help and he’s always super panicked but most of the time it’s because you want sweets and don’t know the recipe. He’s relieved and happy to help but make sure not to use him like a personal chef.
• He can tell when you’re in danger and gets chills but most of the time you’re just hanging out with one of the demons.
• He makes you say something specific when you’re in literal immediate danger in case he needs back up. Don’t misuse it because Raphael will show up with spears and he won’t be happy if it’s for something ridiculous.
Raphael
• Raphael is extremely protective and efficient with his job. Sometimes he can’t tell why you called him to specific situations so you’ll need to tell him.
• No matter what you called him for, he already has the spear ready. He scared people a lot by mistake. Police are still looking for a man walking around with a giant spear that cared away a group of people intimidating you.
• After saving you, Raphael won’t leave your side for a while, he needs to make sure you’re still oky and nothing else happens.
• He might guard your door at night, especially if you’re not in a good head space.
• Raphael struggles with understanding emotions so he takes a minute to learn how to help you with yours when you ask for help calming down, feeling happier, etc.
• Raphael can take on anything by himself so he never needs backup. Just calling for him scares people who know of him.
Michael
• Michael became your guardian because he knows that if you were to suddenly die it’d spell doom, as the brothers, ruler of hell, his greatest warrior, etc. would not ever be okay again.
• He already canonically saved you many times. When you almost died in the reaper cave for breaking a rule, and when Solomon’s good sent you into the past.
• He was pleasantly surprised when he found out you weren’t a wicked person but sometimes he’s baffled by your decisions and will telepathically communicate to definitely not do that thing.
• If you’re mentally stressed he sends you blessings and if he can meet you in person he will. His presence is also powerful enough to banish any curse without trying.
• Try not to call him upon demons because this could spell serious trouble for peace between the worlds but if he knows you’re in trouble he’ll lend you holy power to protect yourself to avoid disturbing the alliance with the Devildom.
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valeskafics · 3 months
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"Finding A Way" - Dark!Michael Gavey x Bimbo!Reader
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a/n: @officerbrowneyes this one is for you bby girl. here's to another year of us being absolutely unhinged about michael x bimbo!reader 😈
Summary: Michael knows he'll have know problem finding a way to keep you with him forever.
TW: DARK!MICHAEL, baby trapping, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, p in v sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie,
Word Count: 1,500 words
Rating: 18+, MDNI
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Saltburn characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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Michael adores it when you accompany him to his work parties. He can’t stand half of his coworkers, and being forced to converse with them for an entire evening without having you at his side? God, the thought is almost unbearable. The best part, however, is seeing how absolutely gorgeous you look when you meet him at the front door, that sweet smile on your face as you ask him if he’s all ready to go.
You look gorgeous as ever tonight, in a pale pink halter dress, showing off the elegant slope of your shoulders, your graceful neck around which you wear the silver necklace he worked his arse off to save up for and get you last Christmas. He takes your hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist, before leading you to the car, internally cringing at the thought that his fucking boss is probably going to be drooling all over you again tonight.
You’ve been together ever since uni, and Michael’s been trying to find the right time to propose. Your family aren’t particularly fond of him, however. Old money, the epitome of everything Michael resents and stands against. And yet? You’re nothing like them. You’re unendingly kind and nonjudgmental, accepting him for who he is, loving and adoring him for who he is. But, while he has your heart, they’re still your family and he knows that their opinion does indeed matter to you. So, he has to come up with a plan that will unequivocally get their approval to marry you.
Michael’s a genius. It should be easy enough to figure out.
Once the two of you are at the party, the two of you greet all the necessary people, including the aforementioned boss whose gaze rests squarely on your tits. Michael grits his teeth in annoyance before turning to you, his voice a bit sharper than intended when he asks if you wouldn’t mind finding out if it’s an open bar. You simply give him a nod and a kiss on the cheek before sauntering off, and before long, he hears you joking and laughing with the bartender as you procure an Old Fashioned for him. Always the life of the party.
He makes his escape from Mr. Wilkes, and his wife who has had one too many and is busy telling Michael about how she’s been seriously considering going on a silent retreat - he doubts she’d be able to keep her mouth shut - and makes his way to you, leaning against the bar and downing the drink in one sip, the bitterness stinging his throat. You give him a soft smile, resting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing as if to comfort him, sweetheart that you are. Michael’s gaze travels along your body before he teases.
“Bit risque, isn’t it? That dress?”
You pout, slapping his chest gently as you cuddle up beside him, “You picked it out with me!”
He chuckles, wrapping an arm around you and pressing a kiss to your temple, “I’m just teasing, love.”
You feel his hand squeeze at your waist, making you giggle before you ask him quietly, eyes pleading, “Do we have to stay much longer, Mikey?”
He’s never been able to resist you when you bat those long lashes at him, when you stick out your lower lip ever so slightly. Fuck, you’re adorable. He shakes his head.
“Nah, love, we can leave after the hour’s up. Bunch of entitled cunts thinking they’re better than anyone else.”
Michael, as always, can’t help himself, his hand moving dangerously close to one of your breasts, an impish little smile playing on his face which only grows when you chide, “Babe, not in public! I’m all yours when we get home.”
He frowns slightly, gaze still intently focused on your body before he sighs, “I know… It’s just tough keeping my hands off of you when you look this gorgeous.”
“It’s tough for me too,” you murmur, lips trailing along his jaw, “You look so sexy in that suit.”
He shivers at the feeling, your soft, plump lips against his skin, wanting nothing more than to just bend you over the nearest counter and fucking take you. He gives you a tiny smirk before pulling you into a kiss, one that teeters on the edge of what’s appropriate for public consumption. He has no shame or guilt, all of that having faded away long ago with the insecurity of his youth. All he can think of right now is you.
And how best to keep you with him forever.
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By the time the two of you get home, Michael is practically like a bitch in heat, grabbing you and pinning you against the wall, grinding his hips against yours as he rushes to undo the fastening of your dress, “Need you so bad.”
You press your lips to his, making your way back toward your shared bedroom. No one has ever made you feel so desired, so needed, so beautiful. Michael gently pushes you down onto the bed, tossing his jacket aside, tugging at his tie and letting it along with his shirt fall into a crumpled heap on the floor. You move to undo his pants, giggling at the fact that he’s already rock hard for you, palming at his cock, tongue poking out from between your lips in a way he finds absolutely adorable yet completely sexy at the same time.
As he gazes down at you, completely bare before him, your beautiful, irresistible curves on display, a dark thought crosses his mind. What if… No… He can’t do that to you. But… It’s a solid idea. A way to keep you with him forever. And your parents would hardly be able to say no to him asking for their blessing if…
Fuck it.
“Baby,” he murmurs, running his cock along your pussy, watching the way your entire body reacts to his touch, “Please don’t make me wear a rubber tonight. So fucking desperate for you, my sweet girl. Need to feel that sweet little pussy. Need to fuck you raw.”
You knit your brows together slightly, “I… I’m out of my pills, Mikey, remember? And I’m pretty sure I’m ovulating-”
“You’re not, baby,” he coos, his voice reassuring as ever, with just the slightest hint of condescension, “You already did last week. Remember?”
You look up at him, with those innocent doe eyes, “Are you sure? You can’t get pregnant when you’re not ovulating, right? So if we do it without a condom or the pill it’ll be okay?”
Michael nods, brushing your hair off your face, barely holding back his smirk at your naivety, as sheathes himself inside you with a low groan, feeling your tight, wet pussy squeezing around him so perfectly.
“You always take me so well,” he rasps, eyes scrunching shut as he bottoms out in you, your warmth enveloping him completely, “Fuck, love, think I could die buried inside this tight little cunt.”
“You,” you whimper as his hands find yours, pinning them above your head as he ruts into you, the fat head of his cock pounding against your sweet spot, making you whine and squirm against him, “You’ll pull out, right?”
“Of course, baby.”
You relax against him, his hands tight around your wrists as he grits his jaw, reveling in the whimpers that fall from your lips, the way you chant his name like a prayer as his hips cant against yours, pulling back and slamming into you over and over. He watches as you writhe beneath him, eyes fluttering shut as you beg him to fuck you harder, deeper, wrapping your legs around him to let him increase the intensity of his movements. He can feel how close you are, see the way your thighs shake with every snap of his hips.
“Come for me, sweetheart.”
Michael lets go of one of your wrists to press down on your clit, pinching slightly, making you whine as you let go, your climax overtaking you like a tidal wave. And when you clench like a vice around him, he reaches his own end, cumming deep inside you with a groan of your name, his hot spend filling you up. You look up at him, frowning slightly.
“You said you’d pull out!”
“Aw, baby, it’s okay,” he says, giving you what he knows you’ll find to be a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry. Like I said, you’re not ovulating. It’s fine, baby.”
Michael cradles you in his arms, peppering kisses all over your face, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear. Promising you everything is going to be alright. That he’s got you. That he’s going to take care of you for the rest of your lives. There’s a strange sort of gravity to his words that has never been there before.
And a few weeks later, a twisted little smile curls on his lips at your words.
“Babe? Do you remember when my last period was?"
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a-writer-on-elm-street · 10 months
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Hii i was wondering if you could do the slashers with an s/o who likes being carried around everywhere (Brahms Bo and any others of your chosing)
slashers with an s/o who likes being carried around everywhere
mentioned: brahms heelshire, bo sinclair, thomas hewitt, stu macher, michael myers, tiny firefly
warnings: mentions of murder
a/n: thank you so much for the request, this was so fun to write!
also, i had to put tiny in here because i just love him so much :((
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brahms heelshire
the one thing brahms yearns for in his life is closeness, somebody who will never leave him
so when you express that you like to be carried around he can't really believe his luck
he loves being close to you and this is just another opportunity for just that
he'll probably carry you one of two ways; he'll either carry you in his arms bridal style, or he'll carry you chest to chest (i don't really know how to actually describe it)
he hates being alone so he loves being able to have you with him most of the time
he won't carry you around all the time though because he still has his own things to do
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bo sinclair
he hates it...or at least, he claims he does
bo usually spends his days alone, either working in the gas station or playing his part to lure unsuspecting victims into the town
he never really has much going on, and if he's being honest, it gets lonely
his brother vincent rarely comes out from his workshop and lester rarely has much to do with the town itself so he's left to his own devices most days, with nothing but his own mind to slowly drive him crazy
the second he discovers you like being carried everywhere, he takes a lot of enjoyment in doing exactly that
he doesn't really carry you properly, he kind of just drags you
it's somewhat like a half-assed piggy back
and although he'll spend the majority of the time grunting and groaning about it, cussing you out under his breath, he actually really loves finally having somebody so close to him
it certainly makes his days less lonely
whilst he's very uncaring though about how he carries you, if you're ill or you're injured, he'll make sure to be real careful with you
day to day though he really couldn't give a shit about being careful but he'll never admit to how much he loves carrying you
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thomas hewitt
thomas doesn't like being away from you much, so being able to carry you around is just a bonus for him
he takes every opportunity to pick you up and carry you places, even if you haven't asked
sometimes he'll pick you up bridal style and sometimes he'll simply sling you over his shoulder because it's easier
his family get on at him for doing it so much because you need to pull your weight and such and he's just letting you laze around but he doesn't listen to them
he continues to carry you around because he really just loves having you with him all the time
he hopes you never stop enjoying being carried everywhere because he loves it
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stu macher
he loves carrying you around
he's always offering to give you piggy backs
sometimes he'll take you by surprise and throw you over his shoulder and carry you like that
either way, he finds it fun to carry you around everywhere
he has requested a piggy back or two in the past though, which ultimately ended with you almost collapsing beneath him
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michael myers
he doesn't really care either way, but there's no way he'll put any effort into carrying you. you either hang off the back of his shoulders or nothing
michael's pretty strong so having you on his back wouldn't really affect his day to day activities
stalking his sister? no problem. you're not even there
murdering someone who happened to get in his way? he barely even notices you
simply walking down the street, having you on his back makes no difference as he simply couldn't care less
he does secretly enjoy having you with him though as he gets lonely sometimes
you're like a little companion he can just take with him wherever he goes
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tiny firefly
tiny likes to be helpful so he definitely doesn't mind carrying you around
he's used to anyone outside of his family shying away from him because of his appearance, so when he learns that you want him to carry you around places, he practically jumps at the chance
he loves that you're not afraid of him like most people and is honestly happy to help you out in this way
he enjoys having the company and he also enjoys being able to be close to you, so this is really a win win situation for you both
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[Main Masterlist]
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doki-doki-imagines · 5 months
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author note: fic written a long time ago, but that is really fitting now. Hope you'll enjoy reading it!💫
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“Michael is inside the locker room, you should see him.” Noa’s voice is firm, as always, even after such a big defeat, for him, it’s just like finishing a chapter, ready to start the new one, not many afterthoughts to ruin his next steps.
Michael Kaiser, your boyfriend can’t deal with defeat as well.
You enter the empty room, only your boyfriend is in, sitting in his sweat-drenched uniform, a towel covering his face.
You take uneasy steps toward his figure, he doesn’t even look up, too absorbed in his own world.
“Michael, I’m here, can you look at me?” You sit next to him, the bench creaks under your weight, you pinch the corner of the towel trying to lift it up, to finally see Michael’s face.
Your hand gets slapped away.
“Don’t even try it.” Some time ago this crude and cold voice would have swollen your eyes with tears, you would have been able to hear just the crippling hate in his voice.
Now you can hear the sad undertone and how the hate isn’t for you, but only for himself.
“What do you want to look at-“ he stands up abruptly, the bench recoil, the towel falls on the ground “At this failure! At this poor excuse of a player, walking trash-“ Michael can’t finish his phrase, broken sobs interrupt.
His blue eyes are bloodshot, the red of his makeup staining his face, sticky with dried tears. Michael is trembling, you don’t know if for sadness or anger, he is hitting his chest with his left fist, while the right hand is pinching his neck, the skin is broken, some drop of blood on his roses tattoo.
“Michael stop-“ You try to walk near your boyfriend, but he pushes you away and crouch on himself hands now covering his face
“No! You can’t understand, you don’t want to understand! This is all my life, I’m nothing- I shouldn’t even live if-“
“Michael!” You shout, finally stepping closer “Don’t you dare finish that phrase.”
It wasn’t the first time Michael got depressed after a match, but this is a peak he never reached before and it indescribably broke your heart.
He finally looks up, new tears forming in his deep blue eyes, you gently hold his cheeks with your hands, and lift his face up so you could look at him straight in the eyes.
“Your value as a person doesn’t depend on a match, no wait let me reformulate. Your value doesn’t depend on football. And don’t you dare-“ This time you are the one letting out a sigh “to say that you shouldn’t live anymore, because I can’t imagine a life without you.”
You kiss his forehead just before hugging him tight against your body, your right hand caressing his head.
Michael doesn’t reply back, he just keeps sobbing and crying on your shoulder.
“Please Michael stop crying, but I promise, losing this match won’t be your end, there will be a ton of other occasions, please Michael believe me.” You coo at him.
“O-Ok” His body still trembles under you.
“Can you look at me when you say that?” You say softly before kissing the top of his head.
He lift up from your shoulder and nod, a wobbly smile appearing on his face, his breath still being broken by sobs.
You smooch his forehead again, this time the contact last longer and he closes his eyes in relaxation, finally the sobs and sighs are slowing down and he is regaining control of his body.
“Can I kiss you even if I look like a mess?”  
A small laugh escapes your lips but you nod.
“I find you handsome-“  “you look like a wet kitty, love it.” You wanted to say, but his mouth catch yours before you can finish.
His chapped lips find yours. It’s a slow dance, made of broken breaths bound by a strong love. Your right hand drying away those fresh tears, your thumb moving slow circles on his sticky cheeks, the left one finds peace in the back of his neck, scratching his little hair knowing full well he loves it.
He is way more restless, the right hand that was holding your arm to keep you as close as possible to his body find soon his way to your waist, fingers moving up and down pressing and releasing your waist like a piano key hoping to generate a new sound at every broken breath. His left one is kept firmly in the back of your head, pushing your face impossibly close to his, nose bumping, eyelashes caressing each other faces.
It’s when you feel the familiar feeling of something wet in your mouth that your mind return to reality.
“Michael, ehi-“ You put both your hands on his chest gently pushing on his pecs “I think you should take a shower.”
He looks at you with his wide blue eyes and tilts his head clearly looking at you like you just said the dumbest thing on Earth.
“Are you saying I stink?”
This time it isn’t small laughter that leaves your lips, but one of those that shakes your entire body and that makes Michael look at you with even wider eyes.
“Yes a little, but that wasn’t my main point. I think you need to take a hot shower, relax and come home with me and watch a film that neither of us is gonna finish because we’ll both fall asleep the second I press play.”
The blonde seems to think about it a little before nodding, walking towards the locker room’s showers stripping at every step for the joy of your eyes, till he disappears around the corner the sound of running water filling the room.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna join me?” Just his head pop out from behind the wall, water already dripping down his face and hair, a particular droplet following the line of his veins down his neck, skin shiny and inviting-
“Go finish your shower, there will be better times.” You see his head bending down, probably preparing his better kitty eyes to convince you “At home we’ll have all the time of this world for example.”
Michael never finished a shower so fast.
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 month
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David and Michael interview with Emily Aslanian for TV Insider, 10.7.2023 :)
David: So Gabriel shows up at Aziraphale's bookshop naked. He's lost his memory. Where does that leave our good heroes?
Michael: Well, Aziraphale, for someone who is of a slightly nervous disposition, for a naked... his ex boss to turn up outside his bookshop in Soho in the daytime, naked and wanting a hug, is not necessarily what Aziraphale had on his bingo card that day. But once he comes in and Aziraphale has to take him in, we discover that there is a mystery to be solved.
David: Yes.
Michael: And Aziraphale enjoys a mystery, but doesn't enjoy things like the end of the world or the stakes being that high.
David: He enjoys the mystery a little too much for Crowley's like.
Michael: He does a little bit.
David: Crowley just wants this sorted and he doesn't want you indulging your fantasy of being a private eye.
Michael: That's right, Aziraphale gets to really enjoy that. But they are forced, you know, they're a team of two now anyway, because they become detached from their respective head offices. But this forces them together even more. They've only got each other to rely on and they have to solve this mystery. And the clock is ticking. So it starts a whole chain of events that starts off potentially not being as high stakes as Season One. But as it goes along, we realise the apocalypse was just the beginning.
David: It was nothing! It was a mere bagatelle! How much time passes between Series One and Series Two. Do we know exactly?
Michael: I don't know exactly. But things have changed, obviously, between... I mean, Aziraphale is thoroughly enjoying himself. He's sort of got what he wanted, which is to be able to be in his bookshop, listen to music, watch shows, eat nice meals, drink wine, hang out with Crowley. He's a little disconcerted by not having the company behind him because he's such a company man. So that's a bit strange. But Crowley is...
David: It's not worked out quite so well for Crowley. He has the liberation of being free from Hell breathing down his neck. But he has lost the company apartment. So he is living in his car now with his pot plants. So circumstances are slightly reduced for him and he can't quite let go because we see him on a park bench catching up with Miranda Richardson's character Shax, who's taken over from him, trying to dig up a bit of gossip and find out what's really going on. So they have the freedom of not being watched over. But for Crowley, it's not worked out quite as well as perhaps he imagined.
Michael: What are they looking for in each other, I wonder?
David: In each other...
Michael: Well, I mean, I think, they sort of... on the surface, the things that annoy them the most about each other are actually what they are most compelled by.
David: Crave, yes, yes.
Michael: And so they’re sort of bound together, aren’t they? In all kinds of ways. I think Aziraphale is both infuriated and maddened and very stressed out by Crowley’s constant questioning of things. Things that Aziraphale thinks are just… those are the rules. Crowley being a sort of rule breaker and a rule bender, he finds incredibly stressful. And yet I think that’s sort of what he craves.
David: Drawn to.
Michael: He’s drawn to that.
David: Irrepressibly.
Michael: Yes.
David: Yes. And I think probably Aziraphale’s very consistency and very even-temperedness is something that Crowley kind of craves as well. There’s a sort of security in that which he doesn’t really get anywhere else. But, yes, they bicker away, but clearly with the security of a couple who know they can't really exist without each other. But I don't think... they never really admit what they are to each other. There's sort of understanding that they've only really got each other now, and therefore they rely on each other hugely. And, you know, as soon as Aziraphale is in trouble, he calls up Crowley to come and help him. There's no question there's...
Michael: Someone once said, what do any of us have but our illusions? And what do we ask of anyone but that we be allowed to keep them?
David: That's... who once said that? Should I not ask you that?
Michael: Don't ask me.
David: Don't ask you that.
Michael: Let me just say that.
David: It's lovely.
Michael: And sounds clever.
David: Michael Sheen once said something about illusions. It was really nice.
Michael: Whenever you hear someone say, 'A wise man once said', it's usually me.
David: It is usually you.
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whiskehorange · 1 year
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How the Slashers Would Treat Your Stuffed Animals
literally pissing and crying writing this right neow.
Also, Happy New Years Loves! I wish everyone and myself a better 2023, I couldn't ask for better supporters ♥♥
Michael
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Stabs them repeatedly when youre not home until theyre nothing but a shredded mess like an untrained dog and when you confront him he denies it like you've accused him of murder.
Wait-
Jason
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Kisses each one on the forehead goodnight like he's going to be deployed in the morning. Comes home the next day with glass display cases for you to put your favorites/ most valuable in. Even buys them personalized stickers and trinkets to but in and on their box like he's assigned them their own personalities.
Freddy
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Punches each and every one of them in the face as hard as he can like they all own him a grand each right in front of you, laughing until he violently shit himself while you scream at him to leave them alone.
Bubba
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Gives each one their own day to help/follow him around the farm (carrying them around in one arm or aggressively stuffing them down his pants when he needs to use both hands) while actively getting them dirty with blood, dirt, and shit or tearing them in the process of being so unintentionally violent.
Thomas
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Gives them dirty looks when they touch his stuff but actively grows very fond of them and shares all of the family drama and tea with them when they are alone. The dirty looks shift to you when you walk in on a heated tea spill session.
Brahms
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Steals them from you.
Humps them.
Cries and denies taking them if you find them before he's able to "sneakily" put them back where he got them.
Billy
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Refuses to acknowledge them and absolutely refuses to touch them, but buys you more and more whenever he's out by himself. When you leave the room he apologizes for ignoring them all day and adds the new friend to your collection. Has to turn them away when the two of you do the dirty.
Stu
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Gives them all government first, middle, and last names and doesn't forget them either. Also constantly buy you new ones whenever he sees them and issues them names, social security numbers, and jobs before he even gives them to you. Makes them beef with each other.
Norman
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Dresses up and has tea parties with them. When your not home. Writes and prints hand made name tags, name plates, bibs, and beautifully crafted invitations with their own messages for all of them. Spends hours making real treats for said parties.
Hannibal
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Quietly passive aggressively threatens each of them that if hey even think about getting closer to you that he'll destuff them and use their skin as pillow covers, and will do so in front of the others. Insists that he loves them when you ask, shooting them dirty looks after you've turned around.
Bo
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Crop-dusts them if you keep them waist level and will even grab them and purposely rip the fattest, wettest, most gut wrenching, stomach rumbling, room clearing, radioactive, leg lifting fart you've ever heard right in their face and throw it at you, flipping you off as he walks away.
Vincent
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Makes them all their own little wax sculpture the same color as their fur and keeps them on a shelf above where you keep yours. Still doesn't have the heart to tell you that he stole one from you once to sculpt and accidentally dropped it in a vat of wax and had to dump the whole basin because it was ruined. Claims you must have just misplaced it.
Lester
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Makes you homemade, roadkill fur stuffed abominations that smell like the wettest of shit and will set them right next to yours on your bed/shelf. Can never remember the names of your stuffed ones and called them something not even close to what they are, thinking he's 100% right. Pets them unconsciously if he's standing next to them and just mindlessly talking.
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sl4sh3rsub · 9 months
Text
rz michael myers hcs (nsfw: mdni)
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rz michael myers x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)
warning: a lot here. mikey has a monster cock, insecure + inexperienced michael, he doesn't talk but makes noise + mouths words + grunts syllables sometimes (selectively mute ig?), oral sex (both giving and receiving), excessive creampies, fingering (receiving), no lube we die like men his dick n spit does it for him, masturbation, rimming (both giving and receiving), knife kink, excessive mentions of precum + spit + cum, creative use of cum/arousal fluids in arts projects, musk kink, choking (receiving), mentions of sex toys, thigh humping, mention of canon SA and violence (nothing w/ or directly involving reader), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), cum eating, slight somnophilia, bruises and hickeys, cockwarming, slight worship (receiving), dry humping, handjobs, 2 mentions of him having a mini shrine to you, mentions of needle hrt in ftm + mtf bits (feel free to ignore), mentions of the institute/asylum
a/n: sorta edited. tried not to be too ooc, but it's more focused on a softer side of michael - personally i think his character is very different to og/peepaw myers! rz mikey is more based in instinct rather than previous experiences/societal expectations, so there's more general hcs than separate sections this time. NOTE: feel free to read any sections, tried my best to not use gendered terms in agab sections but lmk how i can improve :3
order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much
_ _ _ _ _
general hcs
as michael is very inexperienced with kissing, he'll smash his lips against yours and become a huffing mess after he gets worked up from your breath mingling with his and your darkening gazes meeting
if you play with his hair and gaze into his eyes, he can't help it if he gets half-hard - his body will always needily react to your attention and affection
he's most at home in grey sweatpants - he's very used to wearing them while making his masks and associates them with comfort and the years of creatively honing his craft
so naturally, don't be surprised when his already impressive girth pulses and thickens at the sight of you bending over or reaching something off a high shelf
mikey will absolutely make you your own special mask!! although, the glue he uses for your personal paper mâché mix is a bit more,, personal. he'll also use your arousal to paint the inner layer of his favourite mask :( he simply needs to have some semblance of you with him at all times, especially whenever he's out on the town and away from your embrace
he's borderline hypersexual and gets half-hard and extremely sensitive without reason, however he doesn't always feel the need to act on his urges with you. expect him hiding his arousal during mundane activities, getting flushed and shy when he realises that you notice :<
if he's comfortable on the couch, he'll make himself at home with a horrendous manspread. naturally, this leads to him getting flustered whenever you kneel in between his legs with a mischievous glint in your eye. if you ask him sweetly, he'll be more than happy to sit you in between his strong thighs and let you hump into his hand while you both watch a movie
if he's not feeling like he wants to be inside you, he'll lie on his back with his knees up, pulling you to straddle his waist and lean back against his thighs. from this angle, he's able to watch you play with yourself and masturbate above him while feeling your weight grounding him, just out of reach but almost close enough to taste
he loves taking you from behind and kissing the base of your neck, your breathless giggles echoing in his ears as his long hair tickles your shoulders and back
michael loves having you cockwarm him while he makes his masks!! he adores it when you doze off with your cheek smushed into his shoulder during a late night arts-and-crafts session, the slow pulse of his heartbeat deep inside you
he's so, so incredibly thankful for you, that he's able to unleash his frustrations into you, whether it be about a ripped mask or just about pentup emotions. he's eternally thankful for your love and under the table support
you are mikey's angel, his true saving grace. after his long bout at the institute, he was fully convinced that being loved by anyone was impossible for him. your welcoming arms and gentle praise proved him wrong and completely changed his image of heaven - to michael, it's no longer a cloudy sky mentioned in those old books, it's your warm embrace and loving gaze. it just took him a little while to realise that he was in his own little paradise with you
he tries his hardest to treat you with absolute reverence and adoration T-T he's devoted to making you feel good with him, no matter what. usually, this means holding back from skullfucking you at a brutal pace whenever you give him head. your throat is just so tight around him :( it's got him steadying himself against a wall with his hand, shaking and sweating from holding back, with his gorgeous, garbled moans encouraging you to swallow the saltiness of his length
mikey's wandering hands always end up on your ass or tummy whenever you cuddle together, it's just comforting for him
he's one of the strongest, largest men to ever walk the earth, but the way he gently traces your facial features makes you forget that completely. michael handles you like you're made of porcelain, only using soft pressure unless you assure him he won't break you easily
he has a big, strong and beefy body. lord knows how he maintained it in the institute but with you, he's gonna try his damnedest to put all of his strength to good use - whether it be getting you off while fingering you, his toned forearms barely breaking a sweat or his tree trunk thighs tensing while you ride them
mikey is not trimmed or well-groomed downstairs, his pubes are a wild and unkempt cloud of blonde and light grey hair, so you know he's not caring about how you look at all. you're a fuckin deity in his eyes and he'll dispose of anyone who makes you feel anything other than heavenly
michael is uncut, big and thick, with a large vein running up the underside - so heavy and large that it can't even stand up against his belly, instead slightly bobbing with his pulse and hanging low. it's the type you see in lewd magazines, where it tilts down even when fully hard
when you're on your knees for him, expect his weepy cockhead to drip onto your face while you kiss and nip at his heavy, full balls
oh yeah, this man has the definition of breeder balls; hanging low, swollen and filled to the brim with his potent cum. he truly has so much to give, so you'd better be ready for multiple loads throughout the night
in contrast to michael's hard cock, his nipples are soft and incredibly sensitive. if he's trying to cum as fast as possible, he'll sneak a hand up his shirt and pinch at them relentlessly - make sure they're puffy and spit-glazed after you've been ontop, he goes absolutely feral would really appreciate it
mikey has massive hands too - his fingers are enough to fill you considerably, but he often resorts to stuffing your mouth with them or using his palm to muffle your noises if you're being vocal. he definitely doesn't want the cops called on you just because he's great at pleasuring you
his cock feels heavy inside you, almost like he's deep in your chest whenever he bottoms out. the weight is absolutely dizzying as it stretches you out each thrust and rubs all of the right places. he easily gets drunk on the feeling of you clenching around him, leading to his head being tossed back with drool dribbling down his chin at the sensation
he has the biggest size kink possible but he really doesn't want to get carried away when exerting his strength and size on you - he doesn't want to get carried away or hurt you too badly :(
michael uses whatever knife he can get his hands on during foreplay to add a bit of risk and edge. cutting off your underwear and shirt, tracing down thighs and hips and gently nicking your skin every once in a while, but he quickly tosses it if you beg him to fuck you desperately enough - he doesn't wanna hurt you that bad, not before he's even gotten started
mikey is incredibly insecure about himself and his own worth as a person. he fears your love is only temporary and that you'll move on, leaving him behind as a memory or an adrenaline rush of foolish regret :( for that reason, he's terrified to go too hard or hurt you badly - he's convinced you'll be in pain and be fearful of him if he fucks up. be sure to reassure him when you're together after you have a rougher time and he's manhandling you more <3
initially when he learnt about dry humping, he was confused as to why he craved the friction so desperately but he's learnt to give in - michael will almost immediately cum in his pants if you quietly reassure him you'll clean up the mess you're both bound to leave on his clothes. half the fun (in his eyes, at least) is seeing you get flustered over the sheer amount of his load that's seeping into his boxers from just that little bit of friction
his favourite place to have you is on his lap - cockwarming, cuddling or napping, he does not care. he needs to have your face pressed into his neck with his larger frame providing you with warmth and stability
will rarely fist his cock but if you ever catch him, you might be able to make out his lips repeating the shape of your name over and over
for a long while at the start of your.. arrangement, he had no idea how to initiate sex. he'd just hover close to you, desperately hoping you'd notice the heat radiating from his massive, obvious bulge. would start to bite the inside of his cheek and guide your body towards him in a desperate hint if you didn't clock it immediately
he also did not know shit about the human anatomy, so he'll need you to guide him to where you want to be touched and with a bit of coaching, he'll learn the correct pressure and pace to get you off easily
if you tease him while he's in his overalls, the sight of his lower region slowly darkening with his endless pre and the sound of his haggard breathing devolving into animalistic grunts is nearly enough to make your knees give out
michael isn't a massive fan of fucking you on your bed, especially if your room is in a similar layout to his back at the institute. haunting memories brought on by the guards cast negative clouds across his mind and that is the last thing he wants with you. he'd much prefer to go at it against a wall, the couch or even the floor. most of the time, around his desk is where the action happens and your bed is solely reserved for sleep <3
he loves smearing his precum all over your face, loves letting his musk seep into your skin while your eyes glaze over with lust
he cups your chin, cheek and jaw whenever you have his full attention and his heart melts when you nuzzle into him - his thumb plays with your bottom lip and if you decide to suck on it to keep your mouth occupied, so expect to have mikey silently begging you to cockwarm him while his brain goes fuzzy
while you relax for the evening, watching a movie together, expect him to position you with your head on his thigh (your face way to close to his crotch ofc)
michael loves you sucking on his soft cock and warming him with your mouth, he adores the slow feeling of him growing hard as you moan and gag around his length
when you introduce him to the concept of the sixty-nine position, he absolutely short-circuits. what do you mean you can both suffocate in each other's musk while getting each other off?? what do you mean he can prop himself up above you so he can spend time teasing you while forcing you to choke on his length???
michael always cums a bit too quickly and a bit too much - the moment he enters you for the first time, he can't help but fill you up immediately (good thing he's blessed with inhuman stamina)
he's also the biggest fan of you offering to clean up the mess of his cum dripping down his shaft - if your ass is a bit tender and sore from his rough pace, he's more than happy to soften in your mouth while the two of you catch your breath and wind down
mikey isn't very confident with toys and would much rather pleasure you by himself, but he wouldn't mind learning slowly what you prefer over time
he's also not a fan of lube - it feels too cold on his skin and the slippery nature of it scares him a little, so the best way to get him all coated in pre (for your comfort ofc) is to rim him. his tip drools and spits out so much of his arousal whenever you fuck him with your tongue, rest assured it'll bubble down his shaft and drip onto your chest. the delicious flush of his neck and upper chest is a glorious sight to behold
he first feels the urge to make love to you slowly after he sees a steamy, romantic sex scene with a married couple on television - he wants to give you the warmth and care the actors portray on screen
when you first offered to give him head, he tentatively slapped his cock against your tongue to test waters and see if you liked the taste but ended up addicted to the feeling. he'll smack it against your lips and tongue every time you're on your knees for him
his heavy balls slapping against your chin while he floods your mouth with salty, thick warmth is one of his favourite sounds
he starts breathily whimpering in his gravelly voice whenever he fully bottoms out in your heat, one of the rare moments when he totally loses control over his lust for you
he grunts out the syllables of your name when he's about to cum, digging his fingers into your hips and nipping your neck, leaving deep marks on your skin
mikey gets the same rush whenever you both cum together as to when he stabs someone and kills them after a long game of cat and mouse - there's a reason why the french call it 'petit mortis', a little death
the first time the two of you had sex, it brought out such intense emotions from michael that he was left shaken, crying from confusion about the onslaught of feelings he just shared with you. he is originally torn between holding you close and never letting you go as well as instantly leaving and isolating himself in his own space - like he's used to. he needs time to fully mull over the situation and new sensations he experienced but he would really like to have you nearby incase he needs a hug :(
on a long day, after you've given him head, he'll softly catch his breath while watching you blissfully hum and rest your cheek against his thigh. he huffs a small chuckle as you press light kisses into his softening cock
myers really doesn't want to hurt your ass or bruise your upper thighs too much as he needs to have you perched on his lap whenever he can, but you can expect tender skin from his hips slapping into you as well as bruises from his grip on your waist and hips
if he was too rough with you the night before (maybe accidentally leaving bone-deep bruises or purple marks and scratches along your body), he'll disappear early next morning and return during breakfast with a fistful of fresh tulips as an apology, with their stems partially crushed. just be sure to rinse off the dirt still attached to the roots, it's the thought that counts :<
michael may be inexperienced and bashful but he'll try anything once if it gets you off and brings you pleasure
michael loves to place his hand around your throat, just as a reminder of his sheer strength and power over you. with the slightest amount of pressure, he could make your brain go dumb and your tongue loll out
he chokes you until your eyes become unfocused, your little gasps and whines becoming softer and softer. the proud glint in michael's eyes is deserved, as you fully trusted him with your life while you were in your most vulnerable position. he holds you close while you unsteadily catch your breath, mumbling about how good you are to him and stroking your hair all the while
if you're too shy to look up at him while he fucks you or gives you head, he'll tilt your chin up and groan when your cheeks flush at his blown out pupils
he's the type to not pull out after, needing to soften and catch his breath while still feeling connected, inadvertently overstimulating you without fail as his whole body is racked with aftershocks
if he's feeling mean, michael will make you hump his thigh while he palms at his dick during one of his arts and crafts sessions
he wipes the last dribbles of his cum on your inner thighs after he pulls out. he'll clean it either way - with a damp towel or his tongue, it's up to you <3
occasionally after a spree, he'll need to let his mind rest and will use you as his cute little fleshlight, burying himself deep inside you while guiding your hips along with his rhythm at a bruising pace. if you pay close attention, you'll see his lips forming silent prayers and whispers of apology whenever you yelp from the pace
his post-kill musk is potent enough to make your head spin. if you rest your cheek against his pectoral, you'll be able to feel his heartbeat start to slow against you :<
his guilty pleasure is pulling out while cumming thick spurts, slapping his tip across your skin while smearing his load all over you, be it your lips and cheeks or ass and thighs
michael doesn't want to disturb your sleep if he's needy, so he'll slip your hand in between his boxers and pajama pants to feel your smaller hand against his throbbing bulge. he's content to doze like that but expect to feel him humping into your fist while he sleeps. you may wake to the sound of sheets rustling as he licks up the mess he made, much too tired to change sheets but not wanting it to dry and soil your sheets
he insists on placing his hand firmly on the back of your neck whenever he takes you from behind - to stop you from fucking yourself back on his cock and squirming at his pace
after sex with mikey, it's a common occurrence for you both to be a panting mess on the floor when he's done, your throat sore from mindless babbling and loud moans - all complete with a wet, drool-covered spot on your shirt from his grunts through gritted, gnashed teeth. when he's floated back into the right headspace, he's absolutely mortified by his behaviour and is tentative to even glance at you in a less than innocent way for the next couple hours
if your soft body goes limp in his arms after a mind-blowing orgasm, he gets scared at first and stops his thrusts. he's worrying he hurt you but, once he realises you're alright, he'll support your head and neck and go completely feral, thrusting and grinding until he reaches his high as well
whenever you fall asleep ontop of him, he needs to have your face tucked into the crook of his neck - the scent of your hair and sex in the air lulls him to sleep quicker than any sedative could
he adores your attention while you both bask in your respective afterglows - your hands gently cradling his face while he tucks himself away is one of his favourite, most soothing actions of yours. he'll always rub circles into your skin in return
_ _ _ _ _
amab hcs
michael is inexperienced and completely driven by instinct when it comes to giving head - he wouldn't be deep-throating, instead focusing on your tip and licking along your veins. he's a master of giving handjobs, with the amount of spit he shamelessly coats you with (not to mention his rougher hands)
if he's particularly needy, he'll come up behind you and gently undo your belt while tracing his fingers over your zipper, nosing at your jaw and softly rutting into your ass while panting above you
the moment your fly is undone, his breathing gets ragged and drool nearly starts dripping down his chin
cages you against a bench or wall to rut against your ass and breathe in your scent after a long day at work
if you introduce him to rimming,, lord save your soul. his scruff rubs your ass raw with how often he goes to town on your tight, puckered hole. his favourite bit is pulling back and admiring how you glint in the light with his spit shining all over
of course, the extra spit only helps his efforts of bullying his throbbing cock into your poor hole
whenever michael is close to the edge while buried deep in you, he starts uncontrollably twitching and bumping your prostate, causing you to let out a pitchy whine at the unexpected feeling. every time without a doubt, his eyes roll back and growls into your ear at you clenching around him
he has a small photo shrine of your cocks together, a mess of cum and spit framed for his appreciation (he's a romantic)
his dirty fantasy is getting your attention while you're on the phone in bed by mouthing and groping at your cock, working you through the fabric of your pants
michael is obsessed with rutting his cock against yours, covering each other in your arousals, cum spurting up onto your chests as you nip and kiss at each other's chest and throat
_ _ _ _ _
afab hcs
mikey loses his mind a little each time you cream on his shaft, feeling your arousal dripping down to his balls and coating the insides of his thighs. just the thought of your slick coating him is enough to make his eyes roll back
he rips or cuts your underwear off you if he's too impatient to wait for you to fully undress
once michael is fully stuffed inside you, he gently traces where you meet, in awe of how he manages to fit in your heat
his large hands span over the bulge of his cock in your tummy, making you tear up at the pressure and drip onto the sheets
leans his head closer to your ear just to make sure you hear his groans and grunts while he destroys your pussy
his favourite sight is his pearly globs of cum oozing out of your puffy, soaked hole - made complete by the fucked out glaze in your eyes as you stare at the blurry spectre of a giant between your thighs
he tentatively gropes your thighs and enjoys warming his hands by sticking them up your shirt. if you both happen to make an appearance in public, expect him to crowd around you to try and shield you form from wandering eyes - he may be yours but you're also his, so no one has a right to touch or even look at your precious body (especially not your soft tits or ass, they're for him only)
teach him to tie his hair in a messy bun or acquire a hairband for him to keep his hair from getting sticky whenever he does down on you, slurping and worshipping your pussy like it's his god-given purpose on this earth
once he tries taking you in a mating press, he accidentally discovers heaven. he can fully dwarf you in his shadow and also cradle your pretty face while erratically thrusting and groaning in that raspy voice you love. if he fucks you dumb, he's more than happy to wipe away your tears
sometimes michael hesitates pushing into you for fear of it hurting too much, unintentionally resulting in him working you up by teasing your entrance with his thick cockhead then nudging your clit, fully soaking his length in your arousal
_ _ _ _ _
ftm hcs
mikey initially gets scared if you administer hrt yourself with a needle - he knows what happens to rowdy patients who get the needle back at the asylum. however, as he slowly notices physical changes in your body, he'll marvel at your form developing before his very eyes
michael's sadistic side comes out when he spanks your cock until your sloppy boycunt is drooling onto the mattress. he makes sure to gently slip his finger in your hole every so often, his delight in your whines is very evident when you can feel him throbbing under you
his strong forearms easily hold down your hips to stop them from rutting into his mouth whenever he sucks you off, making you shiver with every thrust of his tongue. his dick is neglected while he goes to town, not that mikey minds at all. he knows he'll be able to go balls deep after you've cum at least once to loosen up for him
due to his strength, he'll keep you still even while you become overstimulated, the pleasure bordering on pain but he's too far gone to care - this man becomes so pussydrunk that he can barely process that he's stained all of the material in your immediate vicinity with your arousal; your pants, his shirt, the carpet and not to mention the couch or bedsheets from his erratic wiping of his fingers when they get too slippery
loves to have you bouncing on his cock - grabbing your hips until they're bruised to control the pace and depth, pushing you to take all of him inside
sometimes if you look extra delectable while attempting to reach something off of a high shelf, michael may not be able to control himself and his craving for your taste - he will bend you over with no hesitation and make out with your cunt, nose glistening in your folds as his chapped lips graze against your tdick and his chin dripping with your pre. his massive hands groping your ass as he spreads your legs for better access
the rhythmic clapping of his heavy balls slapping your sopping cock is forever engrained in his mind, sometimes resurfacing at the most inconvenient times - he will be forced to rush home in the middle of an attempted spree just to feel your body against his
_ _ _ _ _
mtf hcs
mikey initially gets scared if you administer hrt yourself with a needle - he knows what happens to rowdy patients who get the needle back at the asylum. however, as he slowly notices physical changes in your body, he'll marvel at your form developing before his very eyes
michael chases the sensation of having you pressed up against him while you're wearing clothing he's gotten you
he loves you feeling pretty whenever you're on top, tucking your hair behind your ear and using his thumb to swipe his cum off your chin
he will make you do your makeup before you fuck, needing you to feel as beautiful as possible while he absolutely destroys your hole - lipgloss smeared, mascara running, hair mussed and bruises all over your hips. he views you as a goddess, so expect him to make you feel like one
when you guide him to take your balls in his mouth, he'll eagerly suckle on them then return to your tip for his reward, eager to lap up your arousal with obscene slurping noises and proud huffs of satisfaction
he has a small shrine of your panties he's borrowed, keeping the ones with the dainty floral details for 'creative inspiration'
mikey gently squeezes on the back of your neck when preparing to take you from behind - he cannot simply cum from you squirming in impatience and grinding into him, he's not even inside you yet (it would be a waste quite frankly)
as his stubble rubs you raw whenever he eats you out, prepare for the bubbling heat beneath your skin to return tenfold whenever he fucks your thighs like a madman
_ _ _ _ _
sorry if writing quality dropped, this took so long lmao. art the clown is next btw, look out for that.
thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.
stay safe.
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souliebird · 9 months
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[[and then i met you || ch.1]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary: A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s.
a/n: Reader is an extremely anxious person. That’s the note.
words: 5.6k
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You hope Matthew Michael Murdock is a good man. 
You tried to research him online, but you didn't find anything that could sway you one way or another.
The news articles say he's some sort of local hero - not only for being a lawyer who does a lot of pro-bono work but for saving a man from being hit by a truck when he was a kid. They all give his tragic backstory before praising him and his law partner for helping the underprivileged and going after some big shot corrupt businessman - twice. The comments are mostly from people he's helped, singing about how Nelson and Murdock saved them in their times of crisis. 
You want to trust them, but you can't.
The news also claimed Hitler was Person of the Year and deserved praise, too, and you know how that turned out. Not that you think a blind lawyer from Hell's Kitchen can be compared to a genocidal leader, but your mental point to yourself still stands. 
You know nothing about Matthew Murdock except he's blind, he's a lawyer, and his dick changed your life. 
You doubt he even remembers you - a one-night stand from years ago, before his name even started appearing in the news again, and to be fair, you didn't remember him at first, either. Not until four months later when you went in to get your anxiety medication adjusted and the doctor made you take a routine pregnancy test. Then you remembered the handsome blind lawyer who flirted with you at a friend's holiday party you had gone to. You could remember the silly conversation you had about white elephant, that he had the most charming smile, and he could do things with his tongue that made you moan just thinking about, but you could not remember his name. 
You had tried to find him, you really did, but your energy and attention was quickly needed elsewhere and the search for your daughter's father lost steam.
Until you saw him on the television while at the local diner, giving an interview with his law partner. 
That was yesterday and now you are standing outside the door of his firm, trying to work up the courage to go in. 
There's too many scenarios in your head, all of them bad- he's not going to want anything to do with you and your daughter, which you can deal with, or maybe, just maybe, he'll try to take her away from you. He's a lawyer and you work in billing for a transportation company. There's no doubt who the courts would choose and it wouldn't be you. 
The thought makes you want to turn and run but you know your daughter deserves the chance to know her father - and he deserves to know she exists. It's his choice, once he knows, if he wants to be in her life or not, not yours. 
It scares you so much it's not your choice. 
You scrub at your face, trying to work up the courage to actually open the door in front of you when it does just that. 
A kind looking woman with strawberry blonde hair is standing in the doorway and you recognize her from the firm's website - Karen Page. She's the third partner in the firm and you didn't really look into her in your hunt for information. 
She offers you a smile before speaking, "You look like you're debating coming in." You shrug, unsure what to say because that is exactly what you were doing but don't want to admit it. She looks you over without it feeling judgmental before focusing on the manila envelope in your hand. She steps back slightly and gestures for you to come into the office. "You made it this far. Whatever it is, we'll do our best to help you."
The sentiment is so kind and you know she means well, thinking you are a potential client, but it just causes your throat to get even tighter. 
It has been you and your daughter for so long, is this really the right path to take? 
You hug your file to your chest and take a hesitant step forward. Then another and another until you are in the office. It's not big or fancy and you didn't expect it to be. There's a little waiting area in front of the reception desk, with another desk shoved against a wall, and on either side of the room, doors leading to what you suspect are the private offices. 
Karen goes around to the back of the reception desk and picks up a clipboard holding some paperwork and offers it out to you.
You take it and stare down at it, unsure if you would fill it out or not. When you look back up, Karen is still smiling at you and you don't want to come off as a problem, so you take a seat in the waiting area and start filling out the requested information. As you write out your address, it finally occurs to you that you have no idea how to have the conversation you need to have.
Do you ease into it or drop it on him like a bomb? You had only ever thought about finding him and never about what you would say when you did.
You should have taken more time to plan this out. You're such an idiot - you just jumped right into running towards him like you might lose track of him if you took so much as a second to think. You know his name now, who he is, you can take time to get things sorted out properly.
Would it be weird to leave in the middle of filling out paperwork you shouldn't even be bothering with?
Probably not, but you're already here. There is no point in running. 
This is for your daughter, not you. You have to keep telling yourself that.
You don't fill out the information asking about your 'case'. It honestly makes you panic a bit if you start thinking about it all in a legal sense - you know nothing about law and the man you're meeting with graduated at the top of his class from a top law school. Your hand is shaking as you add your signature to the bottom of the page and date it. Reviewing everything takes just a moment, since there's barely anything written to begin with, and your eyes drift up to the logo at the top of the page.
Nelson, Murdock, and Page.
You trace it with your finger.
Matthew Murdock has to be a good man. This firm helps people and he wouldn't be here if he didn't want to help people. He graduated top of his class; he could work anywhere he wanted to. The papers said he is good, too - they win most of their cases. 
Unless it's all a weird front to hide something like money laundering. 
But if they were money launders wouldn't they have enough money to afford an air conditioner? 
"All done?" 
Karen is in front of you, smiling politely. You are surprised by her appearance, but you don't feel pressured. It's like she's checking in so that she can break you out of your thoughts and you appreciate that. You nod and hand her the clipboard. She takes it, giving it a once over.
"Foggy will be out in just a minute."
Your head jerks up at that.
"No, I need to see Mr. Murdock."
You can tell Karen is surprised by that and her eyes narrow just a fraction. She searches your face, then she looks towards the door on the left. 
You turn your head to follow her gaze. 
"Matt!" Karen calls out.
A few moments pass before the door opens and you feel like you're going to throw up. 
The cameras don't do him justice. 
Matthew Murdock is gorgeous. He was handsome before and somehow, he just got hotter. He's a little taller than you, still as lean as you remember, and looking crisp in a gray suit - like some model walked off the catwalk and into a sweltering office. His hair is shorter than you remember it being. You have the distinct memory of being able to grab onto it, but it's too cropped to do that now.
But the thing that catches your attention the most is that in person and in the light, you can see Matthew's hair has an auburn tint to it.
Just like Minnie's. 
The realization shakes your entire world. 
This man is the father of your child. He's real. He's no longer a concept of a person, who you knew nothing about, who just existed somewhere in the world. 
You have to look away before you start to cry. You don't know where this surge of emotion is coming from - it feels like this wave of relief. This question you have always had finally has an answer. 
You tell yourself to take a breath, you know getting overly emotional isn't going to help anything. It might actually make things worse and spiraling into a meltdown is not a good first impression.
You can see Karen in your peripheral vision, and you look up to her, trying to regain your focus.
It's Matthew who speaks first, "Yes, Karen?"
"We have a walk-in who is hoping she can speak with you." 
You introduce yourself, standing up as you do. You know he is blind, so you don't offer your hand. Instead you clutch your folder to your chest. 
He doesn't seem to remember your name. He turns towards you and gives a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Matthew Murdock, but you seem to know that. I have some time right now, please come in. Karen, can you grab us some water before you join us?"
"Yeah, sure," Karen says as she turns to do just that. 
Your throat gets tight again. 
You don't want to have this conversation with someone else there. It's already going to be hard enough. You'll definitely start crying if Karen is in the room. You cannot deal with two people's reactions. The mere thought of you having to do that is making you sweat. 
Matthew's voice breaks you out of your panic. "If that is okay?"
You rush out your response, "I would prefer to speak alone, please." You're too panicked to feel embarrassment. 
Karen doesn't seem phased by this. She is still grabbing a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and offering one out to you. You take it. 
"Not a problem, let me know if you need anything."
"Thanks, Kare. Please, come this way," Matthew motions for you to follow him into the office. 
This is it.
Once you go through that door, you aren't leaving that room without telling Matthew Murdock he is a father. 
You surprise yourself by not hesitating and just charging forward into the office. 
This isn't about you or your fears. 
This is for Minnie. 
You keep your gaze forward because you can't bring yourself to look at him. If you stop and look at him before you tell him why you are here, you will just start over analyzing everything once again. You silently beg to whatever gods will listen that everything will be okay, and this man won't destroy you. 
He doesn't look like he is going to break your heart. 
But you know that looks mean nothing when it comes to pain. 
He closes the door behind you with an audible click and the weight of the moment starts to come down on your shoulders.
You take the seat in front of the desk quickly, worried your nerves might catch up with you, placing the water on the ground beside you with your purse when you sit. Matthew doesn't rush, he walks to his desk with an air of quiet confidence and if you were a client, it would be comforting, but you aren't and all it does is remind you why you fell into bed with him. 
"What brings you in today, Miss..?" He trails off, prompting you to say your name again. As he reaches his desk you watch as he trails his fingers along the edge, using it as a guide, before moving his hand to brush over the back of his seat before sitting in it. 
You chew your bottom lip, wishing you had taken a second to actually plan what you would say instead of jumping in. As far as you know, there isn't a step-by-step guide on how to tell a one-night stand that he's the father of your child - not that you actually looked into that in your desperate research the night before. 
Matthew doesn't push as you gather your thoughts. He moves some paperwork away from the center of his desk, then folds his hands there, waiting. You keep your gaze on his hands, needing something to focus your eyes on while you force the truth out.
"I saw your interview last night," you say, deciding to start there, as it seems the most relatable.
Matthew's brows knit together and he tilts his head to the side and you are one again reminded of Minnie. It's a gesture she does often, tilting her little head left and right as she tries to understand something. It always reminded you of a dog and now you wonder if it's not a learned behavior, but genetic. 
His lips turn down into a frown and his head stays cocked as he asks, "Do you have information about the Lynch case?"
Heat rushes to your cheeks - of course that would be the question to ask after bringing up the interview. The whole piece was about a specific case they were working on and how it would affect Hell's Kitchen and you hadn't paid any attention to what was said - not after you realized who was on the screen. 
You shake your head, resisting the urge to look away and you curl your fingers tighter around the manila folder in your lap. "No, I'm sorry. I saw you and…recognized you."
He straightens up and his demeanor shifts to something less…friendly. It's minute but your messed-up brain screams at you about body language - his shoulders have squared up and you can see where he's clenching his back teeth. You quickly continue on, wanting to get through with your explanation before your anxiety makes you clam up.
"We met nearly five years ago," your voice is firm and factual and you're proud of yourself for that, "at a holiday party." 
The words leave your mouth and you know he knows. Every part of him seems to go still - even his breathing seems to stop. The crease between his brow smoothes out, like he's gone from squinting to wide eyes behind his dark glasses. Your heart is pounding in your ears and your throat is getting stiff, but your voice remains steady as you push the words out.
"I think you are the father of my child."
All the color seems to leave Matthew's face and he looks nearly as gray as his suit. The reaction makes your stomach turn. He looks like he is going to throw up. 
You bite into your lip, waiting for Matthew to do or say something. All you can do is mentally chant to yourself: he's a good man, he won't take her away.
You know it's probably just seconds, but it feels like hours pass before Matthew moves.
He leans slowly back in his chair, reaching up with one hand to rub at his mouth. 
"Are you sure?"
He doesn't sound upset, at least to your ears. His words are cautious - tentative - and it makes your heart go tight in your chest. You don't know if it's fear or hope or everything crashing into you at once now that he knows.
You force out a nod before you remember that the man in front of you is blind. You find your voice and words creep out.
"I'm pretty sure," you start. Your eyes drop away from his hands back down to your lap and you have to lick at your lips to wet them before continuing, "I didn't go out much after that party, I got so busy with work. I didn't…find out until the first trimester was over. By then, I couldn't remember your name. My friends who I went to the party with didn't know you either. I tried to Google you with what information I had, but 'blind lawyer' just got me a lot of disability lawyers." You take a shaky breath, "I understand if you want a paternity test."
You know Matthew is probably taking everything in, but now that you've started talking, it's like you've lifted the dam on your anxiety. You squeeze the file in your lap - just because you hadn't known how you were going to tell Matthew the truth did not mean you hadn't extensively thought about the consequences. Words start to spill out of you.
"I also understand if you don't want anything to do with us, I get it's a big shock. I'm not looking for anything from you." Matthew drops his hand to the desk and if you didn't know better, it would look like he was staring at you. "I just wanted you to know and I thought it would be good for her to know you, but if you don't want that, I get it. All I ask is you fill out some paperwork, medical history mostly so I know if there's anything I need to look out for. I printed it out for you, it's all in braille." 
You get up just enough so that you can place the manila envelope on the desk, then sit back down. Your throat is getting so tight and stiff you feel like you're struggling to breathe. 
Matthew runs his hand over his desk until he can feel the envelope. His fingers move along the edge and you stare at them, like they are going to be the one to reveal what Matthew is thinking instead of his mouth. He finds the lip but doesn't open, instead flattening his palm against it.
"...her?"
His voice is so quiet you barely hear it. You lift your head to finally look at him and your heart skips a beat.
Matthew looks so soft. The corners of his lips twitch a few times before a smile slowly spreads across his face. 
And you know.
You know without a doubt he is your daughter's father. They have the exact same smile. You can't help but to grin as well. 
This is good, isn't it? He looks Happy. 
"I have a daughter.."
"Winifred.. Winifred Love," you offer. Matthew lifts his head and tilts it towards you, brow wrinkling slightly.
"Love…?" He asks, no judgment in his voice, only curiosity. 
You close your eyes in a bit of embarrassment, as you always do during the story, "I meant to put Grace, but I was out of it. I even put a big heart next to it on the paperwork." You aren't ashamed of the story and you love your daughter's name, but it's always a 'oops I was high' moment, even if it was done with the purest intention. 
If possible, Matthew's smile gets even bigger. 
"Winifred Love," he says, his voice dropping back down to the barely there whisper. 
"She goes by Minnie. Like, um.. Like Minnie Mouse," you say. That gets an amused yet fond chuckle. You find yourself relaxing at the noise - like some of the pressure squeezing on your lungs has been lifted and you can finally breathe. 
He repeats her nickname and you feel your lips start to turn up. 
"How old..?" His voice cracks with emotion and Matthew has to clear his throat before continuing, "how old is she?"
"Three and a half," you answer quickly, "her birthday is a few months away." You bite your lip then hesitantly add, "She wants to go to the zoo. It's all she talks about."
"Yeah?" Matthew prompts. His smile is so so soft and it makes your stomach turn in this pleasant way. However, you were expecting him to act, this is not it. In your heart, you think the best you were going for was acceptance, but this seems much more than that. There is a stinging in the corner of your eyes and you have to take your own steadying breath continuing on.
"Yeah, um.. She…likes maps right now. I got her a map to the zoo and she's got the whole day planned." Which is very much true - your coffee table has been the home of a makeshift zoo diorama for a little over a week now and the itinerary has changed about twenty times. 
 Matthew ducks his head and nods a little, taking all the information in. You squeeze your fingers in your lap, needing a way to release the nerves still buzzing inside you. 
A few moments pass before Matthew clears his throat again, "What else does she like..?"
The question makes you chuckle just a little bit, only because gushing about your daughter is something you're very good at. Since you work at home, it is just the two of you ninety percent of the time, you don't get to coo over her very often.
"She loves arts and crafts - anything she can get her little hands on. Right now she loves pipe cleaners and paper, things she can bend and fold, you know? I set her next to me while working and she'll just fold paper into little shapes. Not origami or anything, just abstract things, she doesn't plan it. She always wants to help, too, whatever I'm doing. Cooking and cleaning. She is the best helper for grocery shopping." You pause, looking over Matthew's smile for a moment before continuing on, tears starting to gather in your eyes.
 "She looks just like you," you admit, fondness clear in your voice because it is so so true. Now that you are properly looking at him, Minnie looks just like Matthew, and telling him that makes him light up even more. "You've got the same smile. The same hair. Hers is a little more red, but it's definitely from you."
You watch Matthew lick at his lips and you want to know what is going on in his head. You think everything is going well, even if you are on the verge of crying. They are tears of relief - relief you weren't told to fuck off or to go get your own lawyer. You don't fully know if Matthew Murdock is a good man, but you're over the first hurdle and the prospects are looking good. 
Matthew leans back into his chair, inhaling deeply, as if centering himself, then asks, "Why now? Why find me now?"
"Like I said, I couldn't find you, I didn't know anything about you, really, except what you looked like and you were a lawyer. I did try, I really did, but…" you trail off with a shrug, "I had a newborn."
Matthew seems to accept that answer - it is the truth after all - and continues on, "But you saw the interview... Last night?"
You nod, "I was picking up some dinner and they were playing the news at the diner. I saw it and looked you up and now…now you know."
"Now I know…" Matthew repeats slowly, his smile dropping a little and you wonder if is hitting him in different waves, like it did you - the realization he is a father. You know it is an intense roller coaster and you are not going to try to guide his ride, especially after just kind of dropping it on him. 
He taps the manila folder in front of him, the crease returning to his brow, "What is this?"
Your cheeks get hot again and you turn your gaze away from him and back to your lap, "Requests for family medical history and information about how to establish paternity, if that's what you want."
"It is," Matthew rushes out. Your head jerks up and his expression looks serious, "I want that. I want to be in her life."
He sounds so sure of himself that it makes your head spin a little. You built up in your mind he either wouldn't want anything to do with you and Minnie or he was going to try to take her away - you hadn't really considered the obvious option that Matthew would just want to be involved. At least, that is what you are hoping he is implying. 
"I won't abandon my daughter," the conviction in his voice startles you, but it also makes your heart twist but in a good way because in that moment, you believe him. "And I won't abandon you. I used to question if I had the right to bring a child into my life, but this isn't a hypothetical anymore…. And I can't.." he trails off and leans back into his chair, rubbing at his mouth again. You don't press, you have no right to when you've come out of the blue and changed his entire world. He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I can't step away now that I know she is out there." 
You quickly shake your head at his words, "You don't need to rush into anything, I mean it, I don't want anything from you but for you to have the chance to know her. We can go slow, she's still little, you know? She can't handle a big change. Start small?"
You're more worried about how he is feeling versus what you are. You have at least prepared yourself to have a reaction - he thought he would be having a normal work day and you've given him a lot to process in the last five minutes. 
"We can go at your pace, Matthew."
He drops his hand from his face, a smile coming back to his face, "You can call me Matt."
You repeat your preferred name, then apologize, "I'm sorry for coming out of nowhere. I didn't want to lose track of you again, but I could have scheduled an appointment."
Matt shakes his head a little, "No, I get it." His hand goes back to the envelope, like touching it is grounding him like squeezing your fingers is grounding you. "I'm glad you came…I'm glad…thank you. Thank you for telling me." 
Part of you wants to reach across the desk and squeeze his hand, to give him comfort and let him know everything will be okay, but you don't dare. He's still a stranger, despite everything. You decide pushing past the emotional to the practical might be the best approach for now. You need to get your anxiety to settle now that you know your world isn't going to end and the best thing for that, in your mind, is getting an action plan. 
"I don't know what the steps are for doing this," you start, trying to think up ideas as you talk, "but I think maybe we could…get together again and plan things out? Give you time to adjust to the idea and let you think about how you want to move forward?"
Matt nods along with your words, "That sounds like a good idea." 
You bend down to grab your phone out of your purse, "I put my contact information in the packet, but could I get yours?" 
He waits until you are ready, then gives you his personal number then the office number. You do the quick song and dance of calling his phone, so that he has your number and you wait patiently as he adds you as a contact. Hearing the voice commands to navigate a phone is new to you and once he is done putting in your information, you let your curiosity get the better of you.
"Do you prefer texting or phone calls?"
"Phone calls would be preferable," Matt says as he sets his phone on his desk, having held it up to speak clearly into it, "I have text to speech but it's not always the easiest for texting." 
You nod in understanding, "Got it." You squirm in your seat, unsure of what comes next, so you say the very first thing that comes to mind. "You can call anytime. I work from home so you don't have to worry about interrupting anything…like I'm doing with you."
He hums, then asks, "What does Minnie do during the day?" 
"She stays with me, mostly. There's a daycare down the block she goes to if I need someone to watch her. That's where she is now."
That makes Matt frown just slightly and part of you panics that he disapproves. "Is it just the two of you…?"
"Yes." 
You say it with confidence. You've worked hard to get where you are alone and despite all you've been through, you are proud of that. "My parents passed when I was in college and I don't have any siblings. We've managed to do pretty well on our own. It's not the biggest, but we have a little place in Chelsea."
The little frown stays and you don't know what it means - you hope it's over you not having a big support system and not something else. Matt looks like he is going to respond but a knock at the door cuts him off. You jump at the noise, having totally forgotten there were other people in the office. 
Matt looks slightly annoyed when he calls out, "Yes?"
The door opens and the final partner for the law is there. "Pardon the intrusion," he says to you with a nod before addressing Matt, "They've got that guy from last week at the 15th. He's asking for us specifically."
Matt openly scowls before running a hand over his face, "Okay. Give me a few minutes."
Foggy nods before stepping back out and closing the door.
"I'm sorry," Matt says sheepishly.
You cut him off before he can say more, standing as you do, "Please don't be, I really did just barge in on you at work. I can call you later? Or you can call me?" 
Matt gets up as well, starting to come around the desk, "I can call you." He hesitates just a second, then ducks his chin, that little smile reappearing and your heart does that funny flip again. "Maybe we can get lunch?"
You smile back, "I would like that. We can start planning." You bite your bottom lip, then add, "I can bring Minnie…?"
Matt's entire face lights up and the awkwardness of trying to end your talk evaporates. "I would like that. A lot." He motions to his desk, "I'll work on getting that back to you. I want to…I want to do this right." 
"I do, too." 
It feels like a promise. You want to believe Matt - that he wants this and won't disappear at the first minor inconvenience. You've read so many horror stories about bad parents and you don't want any of that for Minnie. 
You grab your purse and the water Karen gave you, then finally give Matt a proper look over. 
You enjoyed your night together with him. Not only had he been a phenomenal lover, but he had made you smile and laugh. You weren't nearly as anxious then as you are now, but you had been rather nervous being flirted with by a handsome lawyer and he had made you feel at ease. Bringing him home with you had been an easy choice. 
He must sense you smiling somehow, maybe you giggled or something, but his smile, which had started to fall, brightens back up.
"Can I ask you something before you go?" 
You nod to his question, catch yourself and reply, "Of course."
"Can you tell me what she looks like?"
Guilt courses through you and biting your lip turns painful, "I'm so sorry, of course. Um, I included pictures in the packet with descriptions but, of course." His face drops into something a little nervous so you launch into the description of your daughter, emphasizing how they have the same smile because you can’t get over that. You can't help yourself and start describing some of the pictures you included.
"She has this big noise canceling headband so she can sleep comfortably - she doesn't like loud noises - but because she is three, she refuses to wear it unless it's cute. So we crochet little sleeves for it. One of the pictures is her asleep on our couch, face down, because that's how she sleeps, wearing her favorite sleeve. It's Spider-Man the-"
There's a quick series of taps on the door before it opens again.
"Buddy, we gotta go."
You start to apologize, but Matt speaks over you, his voice a little firm as his expression drops, "I'll be right there, Foggy."
A silent conversation seems to go through them, as Foggy raises his eyebrows at Matt and Matt does the same right back. Foggy steps out of the office, closing the door behind him. 
"Let me walk you out?" Matt asks, motioning to the door.
"Thank you." 
You let him open the door and you follow him into the reception office. Foggy is looking at his phone while waiting by Karen's desk as she finishes packing her laptop. You cross the room in silence as Matt leads you from the office. Once you are in the hallway, he speaks to you in a soft voice.
"Can I call you tonight?"
"Yes, please." 
"Does eight work?"
"That's perfect." 
"I'll talk to you then."
You force yourself to be the one to turn away and start walking towards the stairs. As you get to them, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth to try to suppress your smile.
Maybe the papers are right and Matthew Murdock is a good man. 
You really hope he's a good father too.
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l1tw1ck · 2 months
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i found your writing through the mike schmidt x male reader tag and absolutely adore it! i will never write him cis ever (/lh), that man is trans and autistic as hell (/pos).
may i request mike getting his tdick sucked and his cunt eaten out? i prescribe him stress relief by multiple intense orgasms until he's completely spent and feeling nothing but peace and bliss. it's what he deserves <3
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bottom!ftm michael x top reader
trans autistic mike is So real
cw: afab language, cunnilingus, squirting
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"You deserve this, you've worked hard this week." You say softly, in between Michael's bare thighs. You press gentle kisses all over his plush flesh. "Just relax and let me take care of you, okay?"
Mike whimpers in response, twitching just because of your proximity to his cunt. He hasn't had sex thanks to his job and the most he's done to make up for it is humping his own arm or a pillow before falling asleep. He sucks in a breath as you kiss his dick, a burst of electricity and pleasure running through him. You drag your tongue up his pussy and lap at it, giving him lots of love with your tongue. Mike moans your name shakily and leans back. He blinks rapidly, his eyes staring straight at the ceiling as you bring him closer to his climax. "Fu- fuck-" He gasps. You dip your tongue inside him, searching around his insides as your fingers delicately rub his precious and super sensitive t-dick. "Ohmygod~" Mike cries out. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-"
One of the reasons you're able to focus entirely on Mike's pleasure and ignore your aching dick is the words and sounds that come out of his mouth. Just hearing how good you're making him feel encourages you.
"'M gonna- gonna-" He shakes almost violently, squirt splashing all over your face. His breathing increases rapidly as he goes through the aftershocks of squirting for the first time in two weeks. You lick up any slick that made it on his legs and scoop up a bit more from his cunt before pulling away, just what he likes you to do.
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narcissistcookbook · 2 months
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Is there an origin behind Sugar In My Coffee??
Yeah! So I met this guy from Nashville called Michael and Michael loved coffee - he was introduced to me as the coffee guy in fact. He owned a couple of coffee shops in the city - he literally had a tattoo of a coffee mug on his neck next to his face! The guy liked coffee. He offered me some and I was like "nah you're alright man, I'm more of a hot chocolate man myself" and he said "hot chocolate? What are you? Fucking nine years old??? You just haven't had the right kind of coffee yet! Have you tried Java Arabica?" I said "no". "Have you tried Jamaican Blue Mountain?" I said "no". "Have you tried--" I said "Let me stop you there. I don't want to be rude, but this shouldn't be so hard to understand. I don't like coffee!" So he said "I want to show you something," so me and him and his friends we got in his car and we drove outside the city to this warehouse, and he said "today's your lucky day kid. Today you're going to try my coffee. It's the freshest in the state, it's going to change your shit right up." And I thought, oh, this is it. This is it man. Everything is going to change. I'm going to be able to go for a coffee with people like a fucking adult for once. I'm going to be able to say "Well you know me, I like the fruity chocolatey taste of a good Nicaraguan blend as much as the next person but I try to avoid it, I hear the multinationals put a lot of pressure on the farmers' unions". He says nothing. He just hands me a cup of coffee. It smells amazing. I close my eyes, I put it to my lips, I take a tentative sip... tastes like shit.
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sleepysnk · 9 months
Text
a/n: i needed something to post, so i decided to make these headcanons. i hope y’all enjoy!!
characters: bachira meguru, kunigami rensuke, oliver aiku, michael kaiser
warnings: established relationships, nsfw, virginity loss, virgin!reader, corruption (oliver), praising, use of pet names (baby, princess, my love), daddy kink (kunigami + oliver), fingering (kunigami + kaiser), oral sex f!receiving (oliver + bachira), breeding kink (kaiser + kunigami + oliver), creampie.
VIRGIN KILLER HEADCANONS.
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bachira meguru:
you and bachira had been dating for almost a year. he only found out you were a virgin because one night when he went down on you, you confessed to it. being the good boyfriend he was, he had no problem with that. if anything, it turned him on even more that he could potentially be the one to take it from you at some point. the idea of your pretty pussy being filled with his cock made him harder than a rock, and he wanted nothing more than to fuck you better than anybody else.
eventually, you got comfortable with him and after some talking, you both decided to have sex after a date. he was completely in love with how pretty your naked body looked underneath him. your skin and curves were made from the god’s themselves and he honestly didn’t know where to start first. he started off by eating you out until you saw stars in your vision. you tasted even more divine than he imagined and your sweet cries for more only furthered his assault on your cunt. his hands were squeezing and groping at the flesh of your thighs, massaging the fat to make you feel even better than you did right now. his tongue was skilled and you almost squirted from how it dragged along your sensitive bud.
nothing compared to how great his cock felt inside of you for the first time. you always knew how long it was. there was a small vein that ran just underneath the base and, when he entered you, you could feel it dragging along your pretty walls. he made you feel so full with barely just a few inches and my god he found those spaces inside of you so quickly. he loved how tight your pussy was. it was all his, after all. he wasn’t going to let somebody else enjoy how your cunt spasmed at every rut of his hips. he couldn’t hide his smirk when you clawed at his back as your orgasm reached its peak. he fucked you through your high, almost cumming the second you tightened around him. you made such a mess on his cock, but he didn’t give two shits about it.
“hehe.. look at you. you made such a mess, but it’s perfectly fine, baby. i think it’s cute..”
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kunigami rensuke:
kunigami had been your boyfriend for a couple of months. he treated you like a princess and nothing more than that, but when he found out you were a virgin, he was pretty surprised.
kunigami was a big guy. his cock was long and thick and he wasn’t sure if you’d be able to take it the first time. he worried he could possibly hurt you and the last thing he wanted to invoke harm on you and your body. first times were meant to be memorable with the right person, so he wanted to play it safe with you when it came to sex. you guys both talked and after watching a movie, you decided to make a move and finally take that step with him. he started off with foreplay, because he knew full well that he couldn’t just put it in without it. he decided to use his thick fingers to prep you. they were so filling and they curled and twisted inside of you, making your whole body twitch. he truly was gifted with those hands of his.
the stretch of his cock was so great that you gasped sharply when he first entered your cunt. he made your toes curl and no amount of prep could have prepared you for the way his cock felt inside of you. kunigami could hardly believe his cock fit, but he managed to stuff you full with it. he was scared that you were in a lot of pain, but when you tried moving around to feel some kind of friction, he knew you were ready. all he wanted was to make you feel good and he was doing just that. nothing could have prepared him for when you moaned out “daddy” through glossy lips. he almost came right then and there, but he only continued fucking you. kunigami wasn’t gonna stop until you were a complete mess because of him.
he had the urge to fill you to the brim with his cum. he knew it was your first time, but he just couldn’t help himself. the way your walls gripped him like your pussy was made for him to fuck was driving him up the wall. he begged you to let him cum in you and when you agreed, he completely let go right then and there. his thick seed filled your womb, making you moan in pleasure at the warmth that spread across your belly. it was just too good.
“i’ll fill you until your pregnant, princess. I’ll make sure of that..”
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oliver aiku:
oliver was quite shocked to hear that his girlfriend of nine months was a virgin, but that completely turned him on more than he would like to admit.
you were untouched and there hadn’t been another man who had seen you in such a manner. the idea that he was the only person who would have that access to you made his mind go crazy with ideas and thoughts, but he had to compose himself because you were his girlfriend. he knew he had to be smart with you about your first time, so he told you that when you were ready he would gladly take your virginity. that day came after the two of you had your annual anniversary date that evening, and he was more than ready to take that step with you.
oliver was completely mesmerized by your beauty. he knew you would be beautiful already, but seeing you in that manner was just amazing to him. he took his time praising your body and calling you beautiful. when he took off your underwear to eat you out, his mouth watered at how delicious your pussy looked on display for him. it was already soaking wet with your slick and he wanted nothing more than to taste you. his head game that night was unlike any other. his tongue dove deep into your folds, slurping and sucking on your clit to make you dig your nails into his scalp. the sensation was so foreign, but you craved it more than anything else. once he made you cum, he was able to push his cock into your tight hole. his cock was big and somewhat girthy, which made you feel so full.
oliver was losing his mind while he was fucking you. your pussy was so warm and perfect. he loved how you felt sucking him in. he whispered to you to call him daddy and once you did, he started fucking you at such a rough pace you almost lost all of the air in your lungs. he made you beg for his cock and to let you cum. your brain was completely under his control and all you wanted was his dick and nothing else. he had the desire to fill you up with his cum and with your consent, he did so. there was nothing more satisfying than watching his thick white cum leak from your cunt that was all his.
“good, huh, baby? let’s go for round two.. yeah?”
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michael kaiser:
kaiser wasn’t that surprised to hear that you were a virgin. plenty of people were and it didn’t bother him one bit that you were. he honestly thought it was kind of cute. he would be the one to take care of you when that moment came and he honestly thought about it a lot.
after the two of you hung out, you decided to make that move and tell him you were ready. kaiser was somewhat shocked but he didn’t really mind much. he prepared for that moment and he was ready to show you what he could do with himself. he made sure you knew that your body was beautiful and just as gorgeous as you were as a person. he played with your cunt, making sure you were almost dripping wet. he wanted you as prepared as possible and he was so excited to see what you would be like in bed. he wondered it often, and seeing your cunt get sticky the moment his fingers dipped under your panties was an answer for him.
once your body was prepped enough, he pushed himself inside of you and he almost came the moment he slipped inside. you were so tight and wet. your pussy hugged his cock perfectly and he almost struggled to move because of how intense the feeling was. kaiser wanted to fuck you so good, but he knew he had to be patient. it was somewhat dwindling because he just couldn’t keep himself composed around you, but he tried his best to remain that way for your sake. however, you started becoming needy, whining his name like it was a prayer. he had to let go and just let you have it.
kaiser heard this voice inside his head telling him to breed your cunt. he tried to ignore it but he just imagined how hot it would look with his cum inside your pussy. he kept asking you in your ear and when you nodded your head vigorously, he allowed himself to empty his balls inside of your cunt. your red walls were now painted white with his cum and there was a mess coming from within you. it drove him mad, and he knew he would do it again if he had the chance.
“aww, look at you, my love. all fucked out, are we?”
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kiss-theggoat · 3 months
Note
How would the Slashers react to Their s/o hasn’t been getting sleep and randomly passed out as they were doing something 🤔
Slashers Reacting to a Sleepy S/O
Slashers included: Michael Meyers, Jason Voorhees, Asa Emory, Thomas Hewitt
Michael Meyers:
You hadn’t been getting much sleep lately. Most nights, you stayed awake with a book or the TV on, sitting anxiously on your bed, waiting for him. Whenever Michael went out late or disappeared for a few days, you could barely even relax, let alone catch a few hours of sleep. This week was particularly stressful for you. Michael had been gone for three days now, no where to be found.
Finally, the morning of day four, you were startled out of your novel to a bloodied and mud covered Michael slamming your front door, shoulders hunched and jumpsuit absolutely coated in filth.
A few hours later, you were scrubbing blood off of Michael’s shoulder, his entire body submerged in the bath you’d ran for him. Now that he was home, and you knew he was safe…you felt your entire body become tired, eyelids feeling like concrete. The warm water and smell of the eucalyptus body wash was lulling you to sleep, and before you know it, you’d fallen asleep, head resting against the wall and hands still on Michael’s shoulders.
He was confused at first, but he knew that you were stressed when he was gone. He stood from the bath, feeling clean and comfortable, and saw you, passed out against the wall with soap still dripping from your hands. He grabbed a towel, first drying your hands and then wrapping it around his waist, finally scooping you up off of the stool you sat on.
He carried you to the bed, laying beside you as he set you down on your pile of pillows and blankets.
Jason Voorhees:
You’d been helping Jason all day, cleaning the cabin, picking up garbage from the lake, taking the wood he chopped back to the shed. It was hard labor, and you had to admit, it was tough to keep up with your early rising, hard working boyfriend.
Jason was busy chopping wood. He swung the axe with ease, slicing through the wood like it was a hot knife through butter. The pile was stacking up, and his little helper hadn’t come to collect anything in a while. He set his axe down, scanning the trees for you. Nothing.
He began to walk down towards the cabin, where he hoped you were. It was hot today, sweat dripped down his neck as he walked. Finally, he made it to the cabin but still…no sign of you. He tilted his head, genuinely confused as to where you were.
But as he looked towards the shed, and there you were. Your skin was glistening, cheeks pink and head resting against the door of the shed. His chest swelled with warmth. You looked beautiful, and as he got closer, he saw that you’d fallen asleep.
He decided that even though there was plenty more work to be done, this was the perfect time to join you for a break. He plopped down beside you, resting his aching back against the shed. He leaned against your side, and when you rested your head on his shoulder, he wasn’t sure how he’d ever be able to get up again.
Asa Emory:
Asa had been relentless lately. You two had just moved to a new city, and of course that meant it was time to start a new collection. He’d been keeping you up for days on end, rambling about his plans and showing you his drawings, collecting new species and documenting them in his journal, all with the lights on.
Usually you welcomed Asa’s rants and rambles but after the move, getting a new job, and taking care of your new puppy, you were absolutely exhausted.
Now, you were seated besides Asa at his desk. He was telling you about something or other about how he wanted to do a collection about something or something…you couldn’t do it anymore. You closed your eyes. You thought to yourself, I’ll just rest my eyes for a moment…
Asa’s head whipped around as he noticed yours fall to hit the desk, a tiny thud sounding as your forehead made contact with the wood. He stared at you for a moment, but knew that his project was important. He leaned back in his chair to grab a small throw blanket off of your shared bed.
He wrapped it around your shoulders, rubbing your back gently as he picked his pencil back up, continuing his detailed sketch.
Thomas Hewitt:
The humidity was killing you. Sweat was beading on your skin and rolling down your forehead, it felt like you might be suffocating down in Thomas’ basement. The smell was off putting, but you’d gotten used to it at this point.
He was sewing, and you couldn’t really focus on what he was making without feeling a tiny bit nauseous, but to be honest, even without looking, you were nauseous. You were overly tired, hot, sweaty, and had been trapped down in the basement for hours. Without warning, you stood up quickly, holding your stomach and taking a breath. “Tommy, I gotta go upstairs and lay down.”
He stared at you, a little bit concerned, but he knew you didn’t really like it down here. He gave you a nod and went back to his project. You quickly began to walk up the stairs, excited to finally lay down in your own bed that didn’t smell like rotting meat. The moment the door opened, you felt better, fresh air hitting your skin.
Your body felt fatigued, and you sat down on the top step, taking a deep breath. When the nausea faded, you were overtaken by the sleepiness, eyes sliding shut. Thomas didn’t hear the door shut, and he knew you would’ve if you’d left the basement. He stood, walking towards the stairs and seeing you…asleep on the top two steps, head leaning against the wall.
He let out a little laugh, walking up the stairs while wiping his hands off on the apron he wore. He slid one hand beneath your knees and one around your shoulders, holding you close to his body. He couldn’t stop smiling as he carried you towards your room.
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valeskafics · 5 months
Text
"Teacher's Pet" - Professor!Michael Gavey x Student!Reader
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a/n: request from @tallemajas-scriptorium, ilysm maja, i hope you enjoy!!! 🩷
Summary: Michael develops an inappropriate infatuation with you, his star student.
TW: DUBCON due to power imbalance, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, michael is reader's professor, infidelity, some dumbification, jealousy, semi public sex, fingering, orgasm denial, spanking, pussy slapping, p in v sex, unprotected sex
Word Count: 3,050 words
Rating: 18+, MDNI
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Saltburn characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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The moment you walk into Michael Gavey’s office hours, he knows you’re going to spell nothing but trouble for him. He’s noticed you in class, of course. He’d be blind not to. You’re a quiet one, usually sitting at the back, minding your own business, hesitant to raise your hand but always able to provide the correct answer when called on, always dressed in those pretty plaid skirts and fitted sweaters. They should be considered modest by all accounts, but Michael can’t help but notice the way your skirt sways around your hips as you walk, how your sweater clings to your curves like a second skin. Yes, he thinks he’d be able to think rather inappropriate thoughts even if you showed up to his lecture in a paper bag.
You give a gentle knock at the door, one that he almost doesn’t hear. Your smile is shy and hesitant as you speak.
“Professor Gavey? Are you still having office hours?”
Your voice is soft and sweet. Michael’s quite sure the rest of you would be the same. He meets your gaze and nods, gesturing for you to take a seat across from him.
“Yes, for another hour.”
You walk toward the empty chair, setting your purse to the side. You take a seat, your hands folded in your lap as you sit up straight. Your fiddle with your fingers for a moment before speaking.
“I just wanted to go over what I got wrong on the last exam with you if that’s alright. I got a 90 but I’m hoping I can get a 95 or above on the final.”
He nods, leaning back in his chair, eyes traveling down to the curve of your breasts before immediately moving back to your face, “Of course. What is it you feel like you’re struggling with?”
“Wave kinematics, I think. At least, that’s what I keep getting wrong,” you say sheepishly, averting your gaze.
You’re such a shy little thing, you can barely hold his gaze. Michael stares at you intently, maybe a little too intently, before a moment before nodding again and grabbing a file out of his desk. He notices the way your eyes linger on his hands as he flips through the pages in the file, barely resisting the urge to call you out on it.
“That’s a tricky one, yes. Have you tried the practice questions I posted on the course website?”
You nod, looking a bit dejected, “I have, I’ve managed to do all of them correctly except wave kinematics. I’m just… Really struggling.”
When Michael was younger, he likely would have mocked you for being unable to understand such a simple concept. But, he realizes you’re actually quite bright and there’s something that you’re just probably missing. With the years, he’s grown more mature, if only slightly. He doubts he would have gotten hired here at Oxford as a professor if he hadn’t managed to do that. He pulls up a few graphs and data points on his computer.
“Just follow along with what I show you and ask me if you have any questions.”
It takes around five or ten minutes, but he sees your eyes light up with recognition, a pretty smile spreading across your face as you exclaim, “Okay, I think I get it now. Thank you so much, sir.”
Sir. Fuck, that shouldn’t be enough to make his cock this hard, but coming out of your mouth in that dulcet voice? He feels like a horny fresher all over again. He gives you a brief nod, eyes lingering on your chest once again.
“Is that all you needed help with or was there anything else?”
He realizes his tone may come off as cold, clinical even, but you take no offense, leaning over to pick up your bag, giving him a generous view of your backside.
“No, that was it. Thank you so much, sir. See you tomorrow and have a good evening.”
Michael watches as you walk out of the office, a bounce in your step, likely feeling quite pleased with yourself about having finally understood the concept you were struggling with.
But all Michael can think about is how he wishes that skirt was the slightest bit shorter. About bending you over his desk and-
Fuck, he really needs to get hold of himself.
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A few days later, while Michael sets up for his lecture, he sees you taking your usual seat near the back of the classroom. You’re one of those who wants to remain anonymous, though he doesn’t understand why. He would think a beautiful young woman like you would be glad for the attention. But when two of the more popular boys in the class go and sit in the back row with you, in a clear attempt to chat you up. He watches you out of the corner of his eye as you shift slightly in your seat before just getting up and moving to the front row, where the only empty seats are. He watches as you give him a sheepish little smile, one that he finds utterly adorable. 
You pull out your laptop and  begin taking notes on it, typing away rapidly as Michael lectures. And a few times, he catches you just gazing at him, with something that looks an awful lot like admiration. When you realize he’s caught you staring, you quickly avert your gaze, focusing on your laptop. Michael has to bite back the grin that threatens to spread across his face at the realization that you were most definitely checking him out. He continues with the lecture, though he keeps looking over at you, the way your hair falls in your face as you take your notes, the way your fingers move across your keyboard. And the way you can’t seem to stop looking at him, though you quickly turn away every time he meets your eye.
You’ve got to be the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.
When class finally ends, he watches as you shove your belongings into your bookbag, walking toward the door. His eyes follow you with every step, admiring how round your arse looks in that skirt, how you walk so gracefully, as if you’re treading on air. Michael notices the two boys from earlier lingering by the door and how you stop, pretending to check your phone, clearly not wanting to deal with them. He frowns when you pull a hoodie out of your bag and put it on, zipping it up and putting the hood over your head. You shove your hands in your pockets, waiting for them to leave, but they still don’t.
Michael gives the two of them a sharp glare before walking toward them, crossing his arms, “Don’t you two have studying to do? I believe you both fared pretty badly on the last exam. I’d suggest some heavy revision.”
The lecture hall has emptied out by now as the two boys scurry away, leaving you and Michael alone. You remove your hood, glancing up at him before quickly looking away, hands still in your pockets.
“Thank you, sir. You didn’t need to do that…”
He stares at you, again a bit too intently and for a moment too long, but you don’t balk at the attention as he states, “It was no problem. Are you alright?”
You shrug, “It’s easy picking on the quiet, nerdy girl. I’m used to it. Not exactly winning any popularity contests here.”
Michael frowns slightly, “Come to think of it, you’ve seemed a little… Lonely recently.” His tone softens as he questions, “Are you? Lonely, I mean?”
You hesitate for a moment before answering, “My boyfriend and I broke up a few weeks ago. And he’s sort of with my best mate now. Walked in on them going at it in my bed, actually. Well, she’s not really my best mate anymore, but I digress. It’s been a rough month.”
Michael feels like an absolute pervert for it, but he can’t help but find the vulnerability in your eyes and the way you cross your arms, pushing your tits up ever so slightly, entirely tantalizing. 
He clears his throat and replies, “I’m sorry. That must have been hard. How long were you together?”
“Since the beginning of last term,” you say, “But it’s fine. It’s no big deal. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure it’s fine?” Michael questions.
“Mhm.” Your lower lip trembles ever so slightly, a waver in your voice as you reply, “I’m fine. Uh, I’ve got to get to my next class. Have a good day, sir.”
Michael watches as you dart off, admiring your shapely thighs, the curve of your hips, everything about you. He catches his breath, packing up his own belongings, his mind filled with thoughts of you.
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The weeks go on and his interest in you only grows. He sees the cloud of gloom that has seemed to be hanging over you slowly dissipate, the way you become more active in class, the way you attend his office hours regularly, asking thoughtful questions, being an all-around good student. You’ve become something of a teacher’s pet, and he has to admit he loves it. Today, he’s given a pop quiz and he can’t help but stare at you over the top of the book he’s reading. The way you’re leaning forward gives him the slightest glimpse at your cleavage in that fitted v-neck sweater. God, there’s something so fucking intoxicating about you, he thinks as you tap your pencil against your lip, working on a question.
The way you bite your lip, the way your eyes dart across the page as you work out the problem, there’s something so very special about you. Seeing you like this only makes him want you more. Then, to make matters worse, you glance up and catch him looking at you. You smile bashfully before returning to your quiz, shrinking in your seat slightly. You like him. That’s what it has to mean, right? A hundred different scenarios run through his mind. You sitting on his lap in his office, fuck, even you under his desk with his cock in your mouth-
He’s interrupted by the sound of the timer going off, indicating that it’s time for everyone to turn in their quizzes. You walk up last, Michael notes, and he offers to let you know what you got if you hang back a moment longer. You nod eagerly, waiting for him to skim over your quiz, smiling brightly when he writes 10/10 on it in red ink.
“Excellent work.”
You avoid his gaze and mumble out, “Thank you, sir.”
Your shyness just makes you that much more alluring to him. He watches as you bite your lip and admire his forearms with the way he’s rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Biting back a chuckle, he stands up, leaning against his desk, arms crossed.
“Is your next class nearby?”
“I’m done for the day,” you say, holding onto the strap of your bookbag, “Just heading back to my dorm to get ready.”
Michael arches a brow, leaning in slightly, “Get ready, hm? What do you have planned for this evening?”
“Erm, my roommate sort of set up a blind date for me. Said I’ve been sulking about the breakup for too long.”
“A blind date?” Michael feels as if his heart has stopped, jealousy overtaking every fiber of his being, “Are you… Are you going through with it?”
Dammit, why can’t he stop staring at your tits?
“I might fake sick,” you mumble, “But knowing Gemma, she’ll just drag me out by the ear.”
“So you don’t want to go. She’s just making you.”
Every thought of Michael’s revolves around you. How your soft flesh would feel pressed up against his, how your lips would taste, the pretty noises you’d make. He barely manages to respond as you say your goodbyes and walk out of the classroom.
“Have a good weekend.”
“You too, sir.”
There you go again, calling him “sir”. That should not fucking turn him on as much as it does.
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It’s either fate or a stroke of sheer dumb luck for Michael that your date is at his usual pub. He’s sitting there at the bar, not even having ordered his first drink when he sees you walk in. You’re wearing a little black dress and silver heels, your hair set and makeup adorning that pretty face. He feels his heart thudding against his chest, staring at you in admiration, though it leaves an acrid taste in his mouth when a boy he recognizes as one of his students approaches you. You lean in, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek, smiling politely as the two of you take a seat in one of the booths.
You’re so beautiful, sitting there and feigning a smile at what are no doubt awful jokes from your date. Michael notes that you’re not much of a drinker, rather that you seem to be sticking to soda. A wise decision, considering how your blind date is eyeing you up and down like a prized cut of meat. Soon, he heads to the restroom, giving Michael the perfect opportunity to slide into the vacant seat in front of you, his hands folded in front of him on the table. You stare at him in confusion, lips parted in a silent question which he answers before you can ask it.
“You can do better than him.”
You knit your brows together, “I beg your pardon, sir?”
Michael leans forward, taking your hand in his and smirking to himself at the way your breath catches in your throat, “Boys your age don’t know how to treat a woman like you. You’re far beyond their comprehension.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, meeting his gaze, “What are you suggesting then, sir?”
“I’m suggesting that my flat is a block away and I’ve been fucking my fist every night for the past three months thinking of you.”
Your jaw drops slightly, but you collect yourself and give him a brief nod, grabbing your bag and following your professor out of the pub. His hand rests on your lower back, just above the curve of your ass, the two of you walking in silence all the way to his flat. It’s not uncomfortable silence by any means, but it’s heavy and fraught with a delicious kind of tension.
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The minute Michael closes the door, his hands are on your waist, his lips pressed to your neck. You gasp, feeling him hike your leg up around his hip. He rolls his hips into you, rubbing his cock against your clothed pussy, loving the soft moan you let out. You’re every bit as soft and supple as he imagined. His hands grope at the flesh of your arse before making quick work of your panties, pushing them aside, teasing your cunt with his fingers. You gasp as he pushes two of the digits inside of you, a taunting little smirk on his face.
“Are you this wet for that cunt you were on a date with?” Your eyes flutter shut, head leaning back against the door as Michael continues pumping his fingers in and out of you before landing a sharp slap against your core, making your entire body tremble, “Come on, sweetheart, I haven’t fucked you that stupid yet. Now tell me, who are you this wet for?”
“Y-you, Professor,” you manage to stutter out, whining pathetically as he lands a second slap.
“I prefer ‘sir’. It sounds so nice when you say it.”
He continues fucking you with his fingers, dragging out a moan of “yes, sir” from you as he moves faster and faster, the wet sounds coming from you being borderline pornographic. You feel your entire body going taut as you get closer and closer to your peak, only to have him cruelly deprive you of it, moving his fingers away from you. He lets out a chuckle at the wounded expression on your face. You’re too adorable for your own good.
“Want to feel that pretty pussy squeezing around me when you come,” he rasps against your ear, spinning you around so that your back is to him, your chest pressed against the door.
He lifts your dress, landing a harsh slap on your ass, loving the little mewl you let out, the way your flesh jiggles against his palm. He undoes his belt and pants, just enough to free his cock, tugging at it once, twice to work himself to full hardness.
“Do you have a condom?”
You glance back at him over your shoulder, “I… I have an IUD. And I’m clean.”
He nods, sheathing himself inside you with one fluid movement, letting out a low groan and burying his face in your shoulder. You feel so wet and tight and fucking perfect around him. He begins snapping his hips against yours at a near inhuman pace, his arms snaking around your waist, up to your tits, squeezing at them over the fabric of your dress. You lean your head against the door, letting him fuck you as hard and fast as he desires, the fat head of his cock bullying against your sweet spot with every thrust. His movements don’t slow even as you squeeze around him impossibly tight, soaking his cock as you cry out his name, he just continues, one of his hands moving to your clit to tease it, rubbing at it as he continues fucking you.
You brace your arms against the door, the sound of his balls slapping against your arse, your moans and his pervading the air. All you can do is stand there and take it as you reach your peak once more, his own following soon after, spilling himself deep inside you with a moan of your name.
You turn to face him, gazing up at him nervously, wondering where exactly the two of you will go from here.
“I’m only your professor for a few more weeks,” Michael murmurs, pressing his lips to yours tenderly, “I think we can keep this a secret for that long. But after that? Everyone’s going to know you’re all fucking mine, sweetheart.”
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razzle-n-dazzle · 2 months
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- hi ! 💌,,
ISTG you’re writing is so well done and creative I had to contain myself from like spam!!
I hope you’re still taking request and if you’re not that’s totally cool, I’ll wait ‘till next round.
Adam reincarnates in hell and oh, would you look at that? the s/o is the only one trying to help and not making him feel worse that he already is. (i just need wholesome content, exam week is killing me rn).
AGAIN, love you’re writing thx for reading so far!
ᯓ★ Let's Give This Another Shot (and not fuck it up this time) Sinner! Adam / Sinner! Reader | Drabble
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‗ content / trigger warning: fluff, swearing, Adam being Adam, not proof read (we die like Adam) ‗ author's note: this is for everyone who's dealing with exam weeks, it sucks but I believe in all of you any you're going to kill those exams! (don't let them kill you!). Also thank you so much for the compliments Anon <3, I write for the people and myself, so I'm glad everyone is enjoying the crazy shit I've posted here!
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ᯓ When you fall from grace, it's not a pleasant feeling; That Adam knew - or at least he thought he knew - well enough from hearing about Lucifer falling, hearing the horrific things the others whispered about it, mentioning it in passing before the thought disappeared and dispelled into the air as though Lucifer had never held a place in Heaven. As though he was nothing that what he was now, demonic figure that wore a crown made out of skeletons and bones fashioned to mimic horns. Adam never cared about the stories that were whispered, about the horrors he sometimes heard through passing, about Sera recalling how she heard Lucifer scream on the way down, about how Michael watched with horror as Lucifer tried to shield Lilith and himself, about how Gabriel heard his pleads and couldn't do anything; No one could save him from the fate that had been weighed on his shoulders as soon as he had fed the apple to Eve. And partly it was because Adam blamed Lucifer for ruining his paradise, for infecting the mind of both his (ex) wives and causing him grief and pain. Dying alone is almost just as unpleasant as falling from grace; almost.
ᯓ You see, while Adam had died alone on Earth, at least his soul went to somewhere pleasant and he was able to continue living; To make a name for himself and, he guessed, make some friends and live a rather worriless and carefree life in the clouds. He was able to have fun, rock out, and be known as the first human soul ever being able to reach Heaven - that was something not even Eve managed to do, and he took it with pride! It was his title. It was partly who he was. Maybe it was all he was. That much became more clear to him when he found himself waking up in Hell again, the stabbing pain of a dagger striking his back still their along with the weight of his wings. At first, he had thought he managed to survive the assassination attempt, that Lute had just left him in Hell on accident or because she thought he was dead. It caused some sort of pride to well in his chest, a flame that sparked his need to go boost and scream at the top of his lungs - he had survived an angelic weapon! He was immune! He was the strongest angel there was, because Sera would totally fall and die in a sad crumble after being stabbed with angelic metal! He was . . .
ᯓ And that's when Adam happened to pass by a mirror, or well more of a reflective glass on the street of Hell (as he walked, not questioning the odd ball looks he got), and that's when he saw it; What looked like a stranger to be staring back at him, engulfing and taking over his reflection like they owned it, like it was there own. That wasn't him! Well, it looked like him, he could admit that, but it wasn't as sexy or as handsome as him! The reflection would copy his movement, snarling as he did and grinning all the same. With his same fluffed up hair and piercing eyes, the reflection wore no mask yet still held the horns of his all the same; Even the way they slowly curled back before dipping down, forming and L for the gold spikes to rest at the end. The reflection wore his exterminator uniform, yet it was the darker version with the yellow having somehow been dulled and deepened and faded out all at once. His wings were still golden, still tucking at his sides from under his arms all the same, though there was no halo to accompany them this time. And Adam almost wanted to laugh, maybe it was hysteria or maybe it was disbelief, yet he watched to cry and laugh and break the glass all at once; Denying that this was his fate, being unable to stomach that he, First Man Adam, was not only double dead yet in hell. Hell! The first man cannot be in hell, he had created everyone on Earth; All of them came from his nuts and in turn all of them should be praising the fucking land he walked on because if it wasn't for him he wouldn't be here!
ᯓ And yet the Reflection looked back all the same, teasing him with a distorted grin; Like it could feel his distress in the way he curled his fist, pulling back before he slammed it against the glass. It gave a crack, a small one at first, before completely shattering. Adam could care less what shop or business had that glass, he could care less how he effected them or how he was going to be painted in Hell, because this was some crazy mistake! He was not supposed to be down here and he was not going to stand for some stupid mistake that happened because some small crazy bitch decided to back-stab him! Literally! And yet, if Adam wanted any of the answers he so desperately craved, he would have to suck in some of his pride and trudge along to the damn Hotel and talk to the residence who had taken his life. It would take him a while before he accepted such a fate, taking the chance between deciding and doing to walk along the Pride Ring before stumbling into the wrong town and being chased out by crazy demons who wanted to bite him! Maybe even eat him . . . What crazy place is this?!
ᯓ When Adam had begrudging and reluctantly knocked on the new Hotel door, which he would never admit to stopping and marveling at for a second, he would feel that ever irritating dread weigh in his stomach. Who wouldn't feel such a feeling after coming to the front door of a group of people you had tried to exterminate only, Adam didn't know how long, prior! Maybe, silently, somewhere inside Adam knew if he were in their shoes, having faced what they had, he wouldn't accept him either; He would throw him to the curb. Yet, he didn't exactly like that thought, and it wasn't very on brand, so he shoved it down and away and deep until all the could think about is: How in the hell would they not accept me? I'm Adam, I'm the first man! And yet when the door opened, allowing Adam to come face to face with none other than Vaggie, he felt that dread creep in a little. But, not enough to stop him from greeting Vaggie in a less that desirable way, "What's up Vagasaurus?" The sneering comment left his mouth, "I love what you did with the place. You know, it looks slightly less like a destroyed pile of Sh-" Yet the door would only slam in his face before Adam could finish his thoughts or his words; Leaving him standing outside, a tad awkwardly, waiting for the doors to open again. He, also, would never admit giving a glance behind him, making sure no one was standing there to watch him standing in front of the doors.
ᯓ "Vaggie, who was that?" Charlie would call to her girlfriend as she walked away from the door, coming towards where Charlie sat on the floor organizing new activities that everyone could do. All while Nifty rushed around nearby, cleaning Sir Pentious' and Dazzle's memorials in the new Hazbin Hotel. She muttered to herself quietly, not bothering Angel and Husk, who sat at the bar. "No one important." Vaggie would mumble, not being able to catch her tone before it could reveal that it was someone less than desirable. Possibly another sinner choosing a path of redemption after the last extermination! Which the thought caused Charlie to gain a burst of energy, barreling onto her feet so quickly that she knocked around the carefully organized slits of paper on the floor. Vaggie tried to protest, saying it was truly no one at the door and Charlie should just leave it alone! But she was never a really good lair, "Oh calm down Vaggie, I'm sure it's no one bad!" Charlie would grin with a wave, her hand touching the crisp and cool metal of the door handle before swinging the door back open. "Hi, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! How can I-" And yet her words fell flat as soon as her eyes were locked onto Adam's - who quickly spun around, pretending like he hadn't just been looking behind him - and was also welcomed by his light groan of annoyance. "Oh fuck me." ". . . help you." Charlie's voice flattened, dropping as her eyes widened. You know, she's never felt this shocked to see someone at the steps of the Hotel before since Alastor had came along without warning.
ᯓ "Adam?!"
ᯓ "BITCH CAN YOU NOT SHOUT MY NAME?!" Was the next words that were exclaimed out of the ex-angel, the now outcast, as he seemed rather eager to push Charlie inside of her own Hotel and walk in after; Quickly shutting the door as though there was someone outside waiting and stalking him, watching him with all their attention. "Hey no, you cannot just let yourself in here this isn't Heaven!" Vaggie was swift to march her way over to the two, seeing as Charlie wasn't doing anything to discard of Adam she might as well do it herself! No way was she going to let some two-timing exorcist angel not only push her girlfriend around yet also push his way into the hotel. Who did he think he is? And yet Charlie waved out a hand, stopping Vaggie in her tracks. There was confusion, and the two at the bar would turn their heads, before scowling seeing the fallen angel. Adam was sure he could hear Angel's accented voice loud and clear shouting out, 'oh what the fuck is this bullshit!' before Charlie began to talk to him again in a rushed fashion; One he remembered quite well during the meeting that Lucifer subbed her in for instead of coming to it himself, and he was still annoyed by her voice. "What are you doing down here? I thought you-! You know . . . " Charlie rushed out, trying to make it quick as though the others at the hotel would jump and kill Adam again with no remorse, finishing the job that clearly didn't stay permeant the first time; And, honestly, Adam wouldn't put it above anyone here to do that. Adam, who had been picking at his teeth with his pinkie finger, would turn away from Charlie and shrug his shoulders, "Yeah, well, I fuckin' did and ended up down here for some fucking reason, probably a mistake and mix up of souls. I'm sure you have plenty of those down here, pft!- I mean who else would want to stay in this charity case!-" "We're not entertaining you Adam!" Vaggie would cut off the ex-angel, causing his interest to peak over at her. Though he relaxed quickly enough, maybe too quickly seeing as Vaggie had drown out her own weapon and that . . . nasty little creature stood beside her with the dagger made out of angelic metal; Now that little one-eyed demon could give Adam the creeps, maybe even a little (lot) fright, but not Vaggie. "You know, I thought were all trying to redeem souls in this junk box of yours." Adam scoffed, quickly crossing his arms with a tilt of his head. "Are you fucking discriminating against me wanting to return to where I rightfully belong just because I was an angel before this? Wow, that's a low blow, especially for someone light you." Adam's voice dripped with sarcasm mixed with malice, maybe even still a little pride. "You literally tried killing up like- 2 weeks ago!" Vaggie would gesture to the side, as though trying to compare time to the length of her arm. "Oh shit it's been too weeks?" Adam paused, thinking about it yet drawing a blank and shrugging in result, "Shit, didn't know, pft! That shit must still be fresh for you then, huh? Well, let me remind you all that you weren't the ones who DIED!-"
ᯓ "Adam?" Your voice would slip out into the common space of the lobby of the hotel, honey sweat to Adam's ears; Filling them with a melody that could match the songs of Heaven, running down his spine with the comfort he didn't know he needed until now. But even then, you knew he wouldn't break his 'tough man' exterior until you managed to snag him along, away from the prying eyes of everyone else. "Holy shit, hey Babe!" Adam was quick, rushing past and slightly pushing Charlie out of his way to make his way over to you, over to his love. "What the fuck are you doing in a dumb like this? I thought you said you had your own fucking spot near Cannibal Town!" - It had been the only reason why he had tried traveling to that cursed town, even while knowing its residents might try and take a bite out of him or his wings. He craved for the familiarity of someone in this new world, as he had never felt this vulnerable since his first days on Eden; Earth. God's Earth. "Babe?" A chorus of confused, slightly concerned, and baffled voices followed as Adam came to your side, swinging an arm around your waist and instantly drawing you closer. You swore he was fighting off the urge to flick off the others, a casual fuck you for trying to push him off and out. You could feel their eyes as you leaned up to pepper a kiss into Adam's shoulder, to which he squeezed your waist slightly tighter, adorning a snicker upon his face. "Wait, wait!-" Vaggie started, taking a staggering step forward as her arms laid limp besides her. One of her eyebrows were cocked up, her eyes narrow, "What do you mean Babe?" Your name left her lips, "Don't tell me you're dating that fucker!" She would soon exclaim, tossing her hands out as they finally regained the life they had lost. To which you would turn towards her confused, and then remember oh yeah . . . the battle. The one you hadn't been present for though heard about through Channel 666 News; In all honesty it's why you had came here, to the Hotel, to see if you could try and get to Heaven and find Adam again - praying he didn't actually die but was taken back to Heaven to heal or was revived in some way. "Uh, yeah. Adam's my boyfriend-" You would start with a wavering smile, nerves tugging at the edge of your lips. "Oh, this couldn't have gotten worse." Angel would groan, slamming his head down onto the bar countertop, acting like a disappointed parent; Silently telling you that you could have done better. To which you placed a hand on your hip, about to tell Angel off, only to be cut off by Husk tsking and shaking his head, "I would not put you as an Angel and sexist fucker, but whatever rows your boat." His tone came off dry, uninterested, and a little hostile. And with Charlie's silence, you couldn't help but feel the weight of everyone's words a little heavier.
ᯓ And Adam noticed that, with one glance down at you and your face, his wings would flare defensively and his glare was snapped back at the other demons. He couldn't care less that they had been talking shit about him, he couldn't care less on how they saw him or the reasons they thought you could do better than him; They shouldn't care about whether or not someone was out of their friend's league if they were clearly happy with the person! That, Adam knew - or maybe he believed it more. "Hey, what your fucking mouths!-" He would start, trying to draw you away from the others. Sure, he was no longer an Angel, but he was sure as hell he could take any of them in a fight anyways! And yet, his anger was snuffed like a candle as soon as you placed your hand on his chest, gently pushing in and pushing him back. The breath of ire was caught in his throat, not even being able to reach his lungs, as he glanced down at you, noticing the spark that you had seemingly stolen right out of his chest and placed in your eyes. He knew your reservations of fighting with friends, or with anyone in general, so he couldn't help but feel pride swell up in his chest watching you stand up for yourself, for you and him: "I will not let you speak about me, nor Adam that way!" You defended, shooting a star through your eyelashes that the group; Who seemed just as taken aback as Adam had been before the warmth spread from his chest. Vaggie would scrunch her face, much more concerned that irritated or disappointed, but also all of that at the same time. Your name slipped from her lips, "You can't be serious! He's . . ." She stumbled for a moment, trying to grasp her words, "He's led genocides on Sinners all over Hell! He's like really gross and he doesn't respect people. He's a douche and a dick!-" "Dick master," Adam would correct Vaggie just to piss her off, earning a slight jag in the gut from you and a snarl from Vaggie. Vaggie, who, tossed out her hands once more, yet pointed at Adam this time, "See what I mean?!"
ᯓ "And tell me how you felt when you first lost your divinity?"
ᯓ The question lingered in the room, drifting and sticking in the air, as Vaggie stared at you with disbelief; Her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide, and her stance rigid. You noticed how Charlie grew nervous behind her, how she seemed rather uncomfortable in the atmosphere that been created in the room since Adam had arrived than you. She would place a hand on Vaggie's shoulders, attempting to comfort her, yet failed to pick out any words to say in response. "It's hard enough to leave somewhere you've called home," You would continue, frowning, "To be tossed out like you had meant nothing, like one mistake had deemed you unworthy despite everything great you have done in your life. Vaggie! . . . out of everyone, I would have thought at least you would understand something like that." Seeing as she had gone through the same process herself, yet had always had Charlie there by her side to walk through everything with. Was she implying that Adam didn't deserve the same because of what he had done? Sure it was crude and cruel, but everyone deserved another chance to mistake their wrongs and that was what this hotel was about; And you voiced such concerns to not just Vaggie but to Charlie as well. What makes Adam so much different from Lucifer, or say another Fallen Angel that managed to wind up down here? What makes him less worthy to be redeemed? What made him less of a human soul as say Angel or Alastor? Everyone fucks up in their life and as long as they're trying to better themselves, understanding what they did wrong and why it was wrong, they should be given a chance!
ᯓ It wasn't long before Charlie said that everyone should take a break, and as such you would lead Adam away from the crowd of people and up to your own room in the Hotel. You could feel Vaggie's eyes linger, you felt like she wanted to say something yet let her words fall short before they were ever given a chance. But, even if they had, you were too pent up to even discuss anything logically with her at the moment. And you think she could feel or at least tell and that's why her words fell short, yet you would never know - you're not Vaggie nor would you ever think like she does.
ᯓ You and Adam found yourselves in your bed after settling some matters, such as a change of clothing for him and whether or not you wanted to try and make the trip back to your apartment today; Luckily you had some of Adam's old T-shirts and joggers you had stolen from him from one of the few trips where Adam had snuck you into Heaven - and yet on the same note, either of you felt like going downstairs to face anyone to leave to your apartment. So, with not much to do, you set the TV on as background noise and brain fuzz as you snuggled up to Adam's side. You felt as his claws, at first, scratched gently at his side, pairing with a kiss on the forehead, and then they began to tap the flesh there; Like you were some little drum that made no noise, yet Adam continued until he switched to rubbing his thumb against your hip. "What's wrong, Adam?" Concern dripped from your lips, forcing Adam to draw his eyes away from the mindless television and down to meet you, and your eyes. He had known your attention had been up at him for a while, at first admiring his face (as you didn't get to see it much) yet it had shifted to concern the more he played with the plush flesh of your waist. He wondered if you could tell he was nervous from the start. Adam's eyes would falter and glance off to TV again, his words causing a lump in his throat as he tried to play through them; Trying to find the best combination to spew out instead of talking without thinking - vomiting whatever first came to mind and not thinking about it later. And maybe you could tell the trepidations that filled his head too; Seeing as you shifted your position from his side, pushing yourself up, and instead onto his lap, effectively blocking his vision of the television. Your hands rested on his chest, something so natural at this point yet something that still caused Adam's lungs to halt for a minute and for his stomach to flutter. Even so, he would give you a curious glance up and down, trancing the curves of your body with his eyes as he has done countless times before - yet every time, you managed to take his breath away. "If you wanted to fuck, babe, you could have just said so!" The snarky remark left his lips, meeting your amused yet disapproving face. He knew that's not what you wanted, yet he couldn't help but entertain yourself when you were basically straddling his waist; As such, his fingers would drag along the calf of your leg before his hands would trail up your thighs before tailing back down and up once more. He saw the flutter in your breath, yet you tried to keep your composure. Even if Adam was making it ever so hard.
ᯓ "Adam," You would start, your tone causing Adam to stop caressing your thighs. It stuck his eyes to yours, and he couldn't look away no matter how much his nerves pulled at him to. "I want you to know, no matter what happens . . . I'm here for you, okay? We're in this together. You're not a solo act anymore, we're a duet . . . or, well, more a duo act." Your words sunk down into Adam's skin, they infected through his lungs and ran to his heart before infecting all his blood and his veins. His hands, which had ran up to hold your waist, gave a gentle squeeze as he swallowed down the saliva that built up in his suddenly dry mouth. A duo act? Sure, he knew you two were dating, that you had been for a while, yet even then he had a silent thought in the back of his head that you would leave him, much like the others; So he never considered himself no more than what he had: A soloist. First Man Adam! . . . but now he was able to add being 'Yours' to his list with some sort of fire-like confidence; Burning and bright. It made his heart catch fire, even more so when you would stretch out lightly and lean down to lay down on his chest; Your warmth infecting all of him you touched, allowing his arms to wrap around your back and for his wings to fluff out and wrap around your frame. It was like he wanted to shield you from the world, shield you from Heaven, shield you from everyone and anything that wanted to hurt you. Sure he had the urge before, but now? . . . "You heard that big man?" Your voice broke through his thoughts, your teasing smirk had him fighting for a breath. You would playfully nudge his shoulder, "You're stuck with me, I'm stuck with you're, we're stuck together so you better be getting used to it! I'll fight for you, you fight for me, and we'll get back to that stupid place that outcasted you in the first place!" But he would like to stay here, with you, forever. "And we'll show Charlie and Vaggie that it can be done and that even if you fucked up you have a good heart in you! . . . Because I know you do under all the gunk." And your laughter had never sounded so sweet, and you touch has never felt so soft and loving.
ᯓ A duo act, huh? With you? Adam could get used to and stand behind that thought; Perhaps, even after all this time, he wanted nothing more than to hear those words, or well the meaning of those words, from your mouth since the start.
ᯓ But even then, with the emotions that swelled Adam's heart with nothing but pure love, he couldn't help but nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. Your scent filled his nose with a warmth he missed, the soft skin of your neck flushed against his smirking lips, a feeling he longed for and couldn't forget. You were perfect, you always had been! "Fuck, Babe, when you say pretty shit like that, it's hard not to fuck you right here and now." Adam would groan before a loud cackle left his lips as soon as you smacked his back. All too used to his ways, you couldn't do much yet shake your head against Adam's shoulder, like a parent scolding their child for saying something offensive. "You ruined the mood Adam!" The huff escaped your lips, it hit Adam's neck and made goosebumps spring up his arms. "Again!" And yet, you didn't protest as Adam tossed you both into your sides with a fever, still cackling as though this was the funniest joke in the world - and you couldn't deny, you loved the sound of his laughter so much. Even as his stubble would tickle your neck as he did so, causing you to start laughing soon after and trying to push his head away from your neck. "Adam! Oh my god, Adam stop that tickles!" You gasped between breaths, struggling to push your boyfriend away as he found joy in your lighthearted misery. Though he would only curl around your frame, not answering your desperate calls of a truce and a stop, and trap you in his arms and wings with no remorse. "You're stuck with me Babe, you said it yourself! Now come here, let me kiss that pretty fucking face of yours until you can't breath!"
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hall0ween-twn · 11 months
Note
peeta eating you out while michael sucks on your tits <3333
peeta is so sloppy but he's just so eager. all he wanted was this moment!! and now he's finally tasted you, he's never gonna stop. his face and your thighs are just covered in slick and saliva. he might be super eager but he's taking his time, he needs you so wet before you're able to take him.
michael, on the other hand, likes to inflict a little pain. nothing too crazy but it's enough to make you clench around peeta's massive fingers. the juxtaposition from michael's rough pinching, biting and sucking on your tits and peeta's lowkey makeout session with your pussy, it's enough to make you cum.
"pinch her nips again.. fuck, i can feel you clench so tightly around me baby. you like it? like feeling mikey being rough with your tits? yeah you do. gonna cum for us? god you're so wet, making a mess everywhere. so perfect."
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bigassmoonchild · 8 months
Text
Feral
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Word Count: 2.7k
The first three parts give context, but aren't required for this read.
Summary: You had your problems with your squad, no different than anyone else running their first. One Alpha, Michael, gave you the most problems, dragging you from leave to punish them all. It didn't take long for him to become your biggest problem, or for Simon to try and take care of him.
Content Tags: Shouting (not w/ between Ghost & Reader), A lot of Anger, Fluff, Protective Ghost, Violence, Fighting, Ghost shows his Face, Non-Sexual Punishments, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No use of Y/N
A/N: I woke up this morning with over 100 notifications from tumblr, and I've spent all morning trying to think of another part for Maple Syrup. As always, content is under the cut and my asks are wide open <3.
Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist
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Ghost could watch you forever. Seeing how you flit around the soldiers, taking care of each of them, barking orders at your own little squad. After being removed from missions, you were able to convince whoever would listen to give you a squad to train, a group of hopeful combat medics.
Sometimes he would find himself watching what you were doing, and he would inch himself close enough to hear what you'd be telling them. Sometimes, it was nothing short of you screaming at them, other times it might be explaining how to stitch someone up. Most times, you sat back and watched as they worked through the exercise that you had created for them.
You were still off on leave, leaving your squad under the hands of Soap and Gaz to train them further on combat situations. Ghost had spoken with them a few times, listening to them rant about the soldiers you had to deal with. Especially one Alpha, who had been demoted from a regular soldier to being entrusted with saving others.
So when Ghost got the first hint of your scent, not the stale one, his head spun to the doors. Your leave was supposed to last another 6 days, not that Ghost was counting, and worry spiked through him. Had something happened? Was everything okay with your family, or did you merely forget one of the gifts you were giving to your nieces and nephews?
When the door slammed open, your eyes gazed across the mess hall. Your brows were furrowed and Ghost could smell the anger lacing your scent, alongside the musty smell of the rain that was coming down. The room had gone silent, everyone looking over at you. Your eyes locked on your squad, body tensed.
"Get the fuck outside," you growled, staring through your squad. They hesitated and your fist slammed into the wall. "Now!" You shouted, watching as they scrambled up and moved. All but the Alpha, who moved leisurely. Your eyes didn't leave his and you pointed. "You move any slower and I'll have you dishonorably discharged for insubordination," the man didn't flinch.
He gave a smile, looking at you. "You're not even a soldier, you have no say in what I do," your muscles relaxed, leaning your head back, eyes falling closed. Ghost stood, moving towards the two of you, opening his mouth to say something.
"You're on my squad, you do as I say, unless you want me to remove you. You want this to be your last strike?" The Alpha looked away, opening his mouth to make a remark.
"I'm sure there isn't going to be a problem, is there?" Ghost finally spoke up, moving beside the man and staring down at him. The Alpha scoffed and walked away, leaving you looking around.
You gave a soft smile. "Leave your stuff, it'll be cleaned up," and you turned and walked away, adjusting a hood onto your head. Ghost stared after you before walking back to Soap and Gaz, sitting beside them again.
"What the hell happened?"
You stood in the rain, having grabbed another jacket to protect you from the chill of the wind, alongside the rain beating against you. Your squad was running until they collapsed or someone admitted who caused the problems. You knew, though, that the stubborn Alpha in your squad was always the problem.
"You need to get back here," Soap said into the phone. "I honestly don't know what to do with them," and you booked a flight.
Now you were waiting, patiently. Someone would give in soon enough, someone always did. There would always be a weak link, and if it took running them until they threw up so be it. A hand fell on your shoulder and you looked back, eyes climbing to find Ghost standing behind you.
"I've never heard you scream," you laughed, looking back to your squad. The Alpha ran at the front of them, no reaction to the amount of running he was doing. You were pretty sure he had lapped everyone at some point, but you weren't paying close enough attention.
You looked back to Ghost. "You have most definitely heard me scream, just not angrily. Soap called, said that the squad was getting out of control and they didn't know what to do," you sighed. "I thought I taught them better, but I guess I haven't treated them exactly like soldiers," Ghost hummed behind you, eyes trailing the Alpha.
A shiver ran through you and Ghost pulled you back into him, letting you soak in his own warmth. "Does he always give you problems?" You nodded, letting him take on your weight as you leaned against him.
"There is rarely a day that goes by when he doesn't give some form of lip, but everyone's grown used to it, I guess," you whispered, sighing deeply. It bothered you, so much, that you couldn't get all of your squad to act like it. Like a pack. "He's just trying to take control back. He was kicked from his last squad because of similar problems, speaking down on Betas and Omegas," Ghosts scent changed a little, but you weren't able to decipher what it was before it had disappeared.
Neither of you spoke for some time, merely watching the group of wanna-be's run around and around. You wanted to be back home, with your family and watching the little ones run around, not some grown adults. You just wanted to be able to control the squad like other people, but you needed a break. So you went on leave, but came back too soon.
There wasn't much of choice, though. Either let Soap and Gaz keep getting eaten alive, or you come back and beat them back down, but maybe if you talked to Simon he would've been able to help. No, this was your squad, they were your responsibility. You'd have to be a Drill Sergeant, and it was already giving you a headache.
You pushed off Ghost, watching as one of the Omegas stumbled before righting herself. You gave a deep sigh. "Get over here!" You shouted over the rain and wind. As everyone gathered, you glared through them. "I am not your mother. I shouldn't be coming back from leave early because your senior officers are unable to control you," you huffed, looking away for a moment.
The rain still pattered down, and the Alpha was looking away. You couldn't decipher how you felt about him, but you knew it was heavy dislike. Something about the man made you uncomfortable.
"You'd expect a group of adults to behave better than a group of pups, but I suppose none of you have grown," the Alpha opened his mouth to speak and Ghost took a step forward, daring him to make a comment. "I haven't been treating you as soldiers, clearly, so from now on you'll be meeting up with Task Force 141 to being your morning training," a smile graced your features.
You'd spoken with Price briefly over the phone on your flight back. It didn't take much to convince him, and his tone gave you the chills once or twice as he described what he could do. You didn't mention anything to Ghost. You weren't entirely sure what he would do if he found out you were being dragged away from your family because of a problem child.
Everything was still in the air, what you would end up doing with them. As you gazed across, the only person not having any form of regret was the Alpha. Michael. If you could, you would have rejected him from being a part of your team. You'd read his file, it was nothing short of infraction after infraction.
You gave a deep breath. "You're going to go into the mess hall and clean it, if I come in there tomorrow and find even a crumb you'll be stuck cleaning it every day until you leave," no one moved. "What are you waiting for?" They scattered into the wind, Michael still taking everything at his own speed.
Ghost grabbed his soldier, eyes not leaving the mans. "You'll be with me," and you watched him get dragged away. You were finally free to take a warm shower, perhaps curl into your nest for some sleep you'd lost while traveling.
It was late in the evening when you heard from Simon. He had walked into your room, taking his boots off and crawling next to you in your nest. His balaclava scratched at your neck as he scented you, brushing his cheek against you.
You turned the page in your book, letting the large Alpha nearly curl around you. Your fingers found the top of his head, scratching at him over the balaclava. Yet to see his face, you never pushed it. It was none of your business to push him, even as his mate.
You could hear him chuffing softly, nose digging into your neck slightly. It was quiet for some time, outside of the chuffing of Simon and the pages turning from your book. His hands were around you, tugging you closer to him as your fingers continued scratching.
The chuffing quieted, a bothered grunt coming from him. "Want to feel your hand," he muttered, tugging at his balaclava before being able to pull it off entirely.
You didn't look, didn't move, just kept on reading as your fingers found hair. That made you pause, brows furrowed as you turned to look at him from where he returned to your neck, his chuffs returning.
Purring, you tugged him to look at you, book falling from your hand. Simon groaned softly, trying to pull his head out of your grip. A quiet be still, coming from you before he paused, eyes opening to glance down at you.
Scars littered his face, your fingers finding some of the larger ones to stroke at, trying to memorize every part of his face. You could see his cheeks growing a little red and you laughed softly, pressing your hands to his cheeks.
"Little embarrassed of being looked at so thoroughly?" Simon looked away, finally pulling out of your grip and hiding his face back against your neck. You could feel him lick you slightly, laying down a nip or two, his hands tugging you against him again.
It was a few moments later that either of you finally said anything. "What did you do with Michael?" Simon huffed against you, a quiet who?, coming from him. "The Alpha you pulled away from the rest of the squad," you added.
Simon pulled away to look at you fully. "Nothing illegal," you looked at him, smile dropping. He gave you a little grin. "Just gave him some things to do to get all of his energy out, he had a little too much to be acting that way," you laughed.
The next morning, you had a knock on your office door. "Come in," it wasn't anyone you would've expected. Not Ghost, nor Soap or Gaz. Michael.
He slammed his hands on your desk and leaned over it. "I want out," you raised your brows. "I'm not gonna let some little doctor think she can control me," you gave out a deep sigh. "And what about Ghost? You fuck him to get where you are?"
"My relationship with the Lieutenant is none of your business, soldier," you answered, crossing your legs. "You want out? You leave this squad and it's the last place you'll be. You know you can't join the military again if you get discharged. Too many infractions," you shrugged, pulling his file out of your desk. He looked at it.
Lunging for it, you pulled it out of his reach. "Who the hell gave that to you?" You laughed at him, his scent changing to something reeking of anger. God, why were you able to smell him? "Or, is it because you're an Omega?" He smiled shortly.
You stood. "You haven't been taking your suppressants as prescribed, have you?" There was no other answer for why he was so angry constantly. Without a consistent dosage, the androstenone in him would be too high to think properly. He could go feral.
Lunging for your phone, you were only able to get one number dialed before he threw it into the wall. "A little Omega bitch, fucking Ghost in order to get where she is," he snorted. The door was cracked open still, but Michael was in the way. There was no leaving.
Looking away, you blinked slowly. "I'm assuming this is how you were removed from your last squad," he threw your chair into the wall and you opened the file.
"You have no right to read that, you bitch," he growled, trying to grab it over your desk. You pulled it back, Michael growling deep in his chest. "You're gonna give me that, or I'm gonna fucking kill you," you could feel your heart in your stomach. Sure, you could fight but it was nothing with an almost feral Alpha trying to kill you.
Glancing around, you had to look for something to hopefully protect yourself with. A man like Michael could easily kill you, you didn't doubt it. One wrong punch and you'd be in the infirmary, another and you could be out of it. Forever.
"You touch her and you'll find out why I'm feared," Simon. You could feel the relief coursing through you. He wouldn't let anything happen to you, let alone allow another Alpha to hurt you. You looked between the two, seeing Michaels face slowly start to drop.
You dove under your desk the second either of them moved, a growl ripping through the area as you heard a body slam into the wall in front of you. You knew the fear on your scent would be pungent, especially to Ghost.
And it was. He could smell it from down the hall, causing a spark of fear to course through himself. The only other thing he could smell was another Alpha, and he hoped to god he wouldn't be too late. When he opened the door just a tad bit more, he heard the threats.
It set something off in him that he hadn't felt in a long, long time. He didn't hesitate before throwing the other Alpha into the wall, seeing you dive under your desk in his peripheral. His fists found the man, but it barely did anything. A feral Alpha would do anything to kill whoever he saw, and Ghost could hear shouts coming from the hall.
Michael charged at Ghost, who braced for impact, colliding with him and being dragged into the hall and on the wall across from your office. Ghosts knee found Michael gut, throwing him onto the ground and climbing over him.
Some MP's had come careening down the hall, guns up and shouting commands. Ghost tried holding the man down, but it didn't do too much before he was bucked off and climbing to his feet. The fear was still pungent on your scent and it set Ghost off.
He couldn't do anything before gunshots echoed down the hall and Michael collapsed. A few tranq darts scattered along his back.
Ghost was put on administrative leave, pending investigation. You'd used the rest of your leave to be able to stay with him and for the entire duration you weren't out of his eyesight.
Showering? He was standing against the far wall, staring through the doorway.
Trying to use the bathroom? The locks on your bathroom doors had never been used more, and when you left he would be standing in front of it.
For some time you had also been far to shaken to let Simon leave your eyesight. There was nothing he would do that you weren't following him for, his showers left you sitting on the counter and talking to him, even without a response. You didn't go into the bathroom with him, but sat by the door as your eyes flittered around to each corner of the room, looking for feral Alphas.
Before either of you became more comfortable, Simon wouldn't even go into your nest. He would sit outside of it, never moving much at all. It took you panicking in the middle of the night for him to start going back inside of your nest.
Neither of you knew what the future would look like, but as long as you had each other, you figured you'd be alright.
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