midnightmajick

[midnightmajick]

Wanna Feel It (Gender Neutral Reader Version)

Derek Danforth x gn reader

Warnings: Smut, Rough sex, spanking/punishment kink

18+ only, Minors DNI

Word count: 1,116 words

A continuation of Miss Me. Here's the link for that, but you can read this and understand without reading the first fic.

Miss Me

Here's the original fem reader version

Wanna Feel It

And the masc reader version

Wanna Feel It (Masc Reader)

Meant to be read to "PHONK25.wav" by Omguate, link below.

“Fuck yes, just like that... Good job... Taking me so good, huh?” Derek pounds into you with fervor. Your tight hole drips with his cum, but he’s not done yet. Not even close. “Yeah, you like how my cock feels?” he growls. All you can manage is a whine. He feels so good filling you up, every thrust stronger than the last. His dick throbs as he draws close to orgasm yet again, and before you can even manage a moan at the vibration, he spills another load into you. He suddenly pulls out, and you whimper at the loss. You hear him suck in a breath, almost like he’s nervous about something. Then you hear him say, “Your turn.”

“What do you mean my turn?” you ask, confused what he could possibly be trying to say. “I mean, it’s your turn,” he repeats. “My turn to what?” you push, now incredibly puzzled. He looks up at you, eyes full of lust, but also something else. Fear? Why on Earth would he be afraid?

“Fuck me,” he demands quietly, but it’s such a timid manner in which he says it that it sounds more like he’s asking a question. Your eyes widen in surprise. You never expected Derek Danforth to be a submissive man, but here he was asking you to fuck him. And the idea turned you on to no end.

You snap back to reality, watching him stare at you in terror, awaiting your response. He knows you love him, but he’s still petrified. In his mind, there’s a very distinct possibility that you’ll think he’s pathetic for wanting you to rail him the way he does, but it’s too late now. He’s completely at your mercy. Little does he know, that’s exactly what you want, too.

“Lay down on your stomach,” you command him, assurance and authority practically oozing from your voice. He immediately obeys. He wants to protest, but with how you’re speaking to him, how can he? “Good boy,” you praise, and now he knows. You’re emanating an air of arrogance, and behind it is what he recognizes as lust.

He feels a knot of arousal form in his core, and he whimpers. How can he possibly say no to you? This is quite possibly the best thing that’s ever going to happen to him. He tries not to think of all of the ways you could take control of him, but he can’t help but let his mind wander. He sees visions of you doing all of the things he’s done to you countless times before, and it’s driving him crazy. You take note of his lust-drunk state, and use it to your advantage.

He’s been so lost in his reverie that Derek doesn’t realize you’ve already gotten into position, and he’s completely caught off guard as you slowly push into him. He lets out a whine in both surprise and pleasure as you begin to build up speed. Before long, you’re thrusting into him powerfully, the same way he was into you a few minutes ago. He takes every thrust so eagerly, so gratefully.

“You like that, don’t you? You’re a fucking slut for me, aren’t you?” He can barely bring himself to answer. He’s so stuffed with you that it’s a struggle for him to even moan, “F-fuck... feels so... unhhh...” It’s clear he loves this. As do you. Having control over him is different, but it’s a nice change of pace.

All of a sudden, you have an idea. You pull out, and he begins to whine in protest. “Stop complaining and stand against the edge of the bed, Derek,” you order him. He obeys slowly, and you hear him grumbling something about how he shouldn’t have to, and how it wasn’t fair that you pulled out.

“What was that?” you inquire insistently. “I said it’s not fair! Why did you pull out?” he bites back sharply. You frown. Here you were trying to make him feel good, and he complains? Brat.

“Because I’m in charge. Now turn around and stop bitching,” you growl, frustrated that he dares question your judgement. But he doesn’t listen, instead deciding to stand there and pout like a spoiled child.

“Last chance, Derek. Turn around,” you warn, your tone teetering between angry and downright enraged. When he doesn’t, you grab his waist, pushing him to the edge of the bed and bending him over it yourself. You yank his wrists behind him and shove yourself into him roughly. He yelps as you pound into him, barely allowing him a chance to adjust.

“Now,” you snarl between thrusts, “You’re going to be a good boy and take me. And to teach you some manners, I’m going to punish you. That’s what happens to bad boys. They get punished.” He whimpers in what anyone else would think is pain, but you know he’s aroused by this. Although he’ll never admit it out loud. Unless...

“Your punishment,” you thrust into him, “will consist of two things. First, you’re going to get five spanks. Second, after each one, you’re going to tell me how you get off on being punished and used like this. On being completely at my mercy,” you explain, your hand coming down hard on his ass as you push into him so hard he sees stars. “Now tell me how it feels,” you command. “I-I get off on you punishing me...” he sputters. You nod in approval.

“Two,” you spank him again, shoving yourself into him with a lewd slap of skin. “I-it makes me hard when you hit me... S-spank me and fuck me l-like this... I...” he whimpers.

“Three.” Your hand hits his ass with a resounding clap, and he lets out a stifled moan as you drive inside him with authority. “Feels good when you-fuuuck-use me...” he groans, but the way he says it sounds more like he’s begging you. So you fuck him harder.

“Four,” you slap his ass and thrust so hard he’s completely sandwiched between you and the bed. He cries out and screams your name before he whimpers, “Feels so good when... When you show me who’s in charge...” You smile at how obedient he’s being.

“Five.” A loud smack and then another as you shove yourself deep into him. “I like it when you make me yours... When you discipline me... d-do this to me...” Derek stutters. You moan loudly, his words hitting you like a freight train. You stand there for a bit, lost in thought about how well he took you before you hear Derek speak in a voice barely above a whisper, “C-can you do that again?”

[midnightmajick]

Wanna Feel It (Masc Reader Version)

Derek Danforth x Masc reader

Warnings: Smut, Rough sex, spanking/punishment kink

18+ only, Minors DNI

Word count: 1,116 words

A continuation of Miss Me. Here's the link for that, but you can read this and understand without reading the first fic.

Miss Me

Here's the original fem reader version

Wanna Feel It

And the gn reader version

Wanna Feel It (Gn Reader)

Meant to be read to "PHONK25.wav" by Omguate, link below.

“Fuck yes, just like that... Good boy... Taking me so good, huh?” Derek pounds into you with fervor. Your tight hole drips with his cum, but he’s not done yet. Not even close. “Yeah, you like how my cock feels?” he growls. All you can manage is a whine. He feels so good filling you up, every thrust stronger than the last. His dick throbs as he draws close to orgasm yet again, and before you can even manage a moan at the vibration, he spills another load into you. He suddenly pulls out, and you whimper at the loss. You hear him suck in a breath, almost like he’s nervous about something. Then you hear him say, “Your turn.”

“What do you mean my turn?” you ask, confused what he could possibly be trying to say. “I mean, it’s your turn,” he repeats. “My turn to what?” you push, now incredibly puzzled. He looks up at you, eyes full of lust, but also something else. Fear? Why on Earth would he be afraid?

“Fuck me,” he demands quietly, but it’s such a timid manner in which he says it that it sounds more like he’s asking a question. Your eyes widen in surprise. You never expected Derek Danforth to be a submissive man, but here he was asking you to fuck him. And the idea turned you on to no end.

You snap back to reality, watching him stare at you in terror, awaiting your response. He knows you love him, but he’s still petrified. In his mind, there’s a very distinct possibility that you’ll think he’s pathetic for wanting you to rail him the way he does, but it’s too late now. He’s completely at your mercy. Little does he know, that’s exactly what you want, too.

“Lay down on your stomach,” you command him, assurance and authority practically oozing from your voice. He immediately obeys. He wants to protest, but with how you’re speaking to him, how can he? “Good boy,” you praise, and now he knows. You’re emanating an air of arrogance, and behind it is what he recognizes as lust.

He feels a knot of arousal form in his core, and he whimpers. How can he possibly say no to you? This is quite possibly the best thing that’s ever going to happen to him. He tries not to think of all of the ways you could take control of him, but he can’t help but let his mind wander. He sees visions of you doing all of the things he’s done to you countless times before, and it’s driving him crazy. You take note of his lust-drunk state, and use it to your advantage.

He’s been so lost in his reverie that Derek doesn’t realize you’ve already gotten into position, and he’s completely caught off guard as you slowly push into him. He lets out a whine in both surprise and pleasure as you begin to build up speed. Before long, you’re thrusting into him powerfully, the same way he was into you a few minutes ago. He takes every thrust so eagerly, so gratefully.

“You like that, don’t you? You’re a fucking slut for me, aren’t you?” He can barely bring himself to answer. He’s so stuffed with your cock that it’s a struggle for him to even moan, “F-fuck... feels so... unhhh...” It’s clear he loves this. As do you. Having control over him is different, but it’s a nice change of pace.

All of a sudden, you have an idea. You pull out, and he begins to whine in protest. “Stop complaining and stand against the edge of the bed, Derek,” you order him. He obeys slowly, and you hear him grumbling something about how he shouldn’t have to, and how it wasn’t fair that you pulled out.

“What was that?” you inquire insistently. “I said it’s not fair! Why did you pull out?” he bites back sharply. You frown. Here you were trying to make him feel good, and he complains? Brat.

“Because I’m in charge. Now turn around and stop bitching,” you growl, frustrated that he dares question your judgement. But he doesn’t listen, instead deciding to stand there and pout like a spoiled child.

“Last chance, Derek. Turn around,” you warn, your tone teetering between angry and downright enraged. When he doesn’t, you grab his waist, pushing him to the edge of the bed and bending him over it yourself. You yank his wrists behind him and shove yourself into him roughly. He yelps as you pound into him, barely allowing him a chance to adjust.

“Now,” you snarl between thrusts, “You’re going to be a good boy and take my dick. And to teach you some manners, I’m going to punish you. That’s what happens to bad boys. They get punished.” He whimpers in what anyone else would think is pain, but you know he’s aroused by this. Although he’ll never admit it out loud. Unless...

“Your punishment,” you thrust into him, “will consist of two things. First, you’re going to get five spanks. Second, after each one, you’re going to tell me how you get off on being punished and used like this. On being completely at my mercy,” you explain, your hand coming down hard on his ass as you push into him so hard he sees stars. “Now tell me how it feels,” you command. “I-I get off on you punishing me...” he sputters. You nod in approval.

“Two,” you spank him again, shoving yourself into him with a lewd slap of skin. “I-it makes me hard when you hit me... S-spank me and fuck me l-like this... I...” he whimpers.

“Three.” Your hand hits his ass with a resounding clap, and he lets out a stifled moan as you drive inside him with authority. “Feels good when you-fuuuck-use me...” he groans, but the way he says it sounds more like he’s begging you. So you fuck him harder.

“Four,” you slap his ass and thrust so hard he’s completely sandwiched between you and the bed. He cries out and screams your name before he whimpers, “Feels so good when... When you show me who’s in charge...” You smile at how obedient he’s being.

“Five.” A loud smack and then another as you shove your cock deep into him. “I like it when you make me yours... When you discipline me... d-do this to me...” Derek stutters. You moan loudly, his words hitting you like a freight train. You stand there for a bit, lost in thought about how well he took you before you hear Derek speak in a voice barely above a whisper, “C-can you do that again?”

[midnightmajick]

Wanna Feel It

Derek Danforth x fem reader

Warnings: Smut, Rough sex, spanking/punishment kink

18+ only, Minors DNI

Word count: 1,116 words

A continuation of Miss Me. Here's the link for that, but you can read this and understand without reading the first fic.

Miss Me

Also, I'm going to post a masc reader version, here's the link

Wanna Feel It (Masc Reader)

And the gn reader version

Wanna Feel It (Gn Reader)

Meant to be read to "PHONK25.wav" by Omguate, link below.

“Fuck yes, just like that... Good girl... Taking me so good, huh?” Derek pounds into you with fervor. Your tight cunt drips with his cum, but he’s not done yet. Not even close. “Yeah, you like how my cock feels?” he growls. All you can manage is a whine. He feels so good filling you up, every thrust stronger than the last. His dick throbs as he draws close to orgasm yet again, and before you can even manage a moan at the vibration, he spills another load into you. He suddenly pulls out, and you whimper at the loss. You hear him suck in a breath, almost like he’s nervous about something. Then you hear him say, “Your turn.”

“What do you mean my turn?” you ask, confused what he could possibly be trying to say. “I mean, it’s your turn,” he repeats. “My turn to what?” you push, now incredibly puzzled. He looks up at you, eyes full of lust, but also something else. Fear? Why on Earth would he be afraid?

“Fuck me,” he demands quietly, but it’s such a timid manner in which he says it that it sounds more like he’s asking a question. Your eyes widen in surprise. You never expected Derek Danforth to be a submissive man, but here he was asking you to fuck him. And the idea turned you on to no end.

You snap back to reality, watching him stare at you in terror, awaiting your response. He knows you love him, but he’s still petrified. In his mind, there’s a very distinct possibility that you’ll think he’s pathetic for wanting you to rail him the way he does, but it’s too late now. He’s completely at your mercy. Little does he know, that’s exactly what you want, too.

“Lay down on your stomach,” you command him, assurance and authority practically oozing from your voice. He immediately obeys. He wants to protest, but with how you’re speaking to him, how can he? “Good boy,” you praise, and now he knows. You’re emanating an air of arrogance, and behind it is what he recognizes as lust.

He feels a knot of arousal form in his core, and he whimpers. How can he possibly say no to you? This is quite possibly the best thing that’s ever going to happen to him. He tries not to think of all of the ways you could take control of him, but he can’t help but let his mind wander. He sees visions of you doing all of the things he’s done to you countless times before, and it’s driving him crazy. You take note of his lust-drunk state, and use it to your advantage.

He’s been so lost in his reverie that Derek doesn’t realize you’ve already attached your strap-on, and he’s completely caught off guard as you slowly push into him. He lets out a whine in both surprise and pleasure as you begin to build up speed. Before long, you’re thrusting into him powerfully, the same way he was into you a few minutes ago. He takes every thrust so eagerly, so gratefully.

“You like that, don’t you? You’re a fucking slut for me, aren’t you?” He can barely bring himself to answer. He’s so stuffed with your strap that it’s a struggle for him to even moan, “F-fuck... feels so... unhhh...” It’s clear he loves this. As do you. Having control over him is different, but it’s a nice change of pace.

All of a sudden, you have an idea. You pull out, and he begins to whine in protest. “Stop complaining and stand against the edge of the bed, Derek,” you order him. He obeys slowly, and you hear him grumbling something about how he shouldn’t have to, and how it wasn’t fair that you pulled out.

“What was that?” you inquire insistently. “I said it’s not fair! Why did you pull out?” he bites back sharply. You frown. Here you were trying to make him feel good, and he complains? Brat.

“Because I’m in charge. Now turn around and stop bitching,” you growl, frustrated that he dares question your judgement. But he doesn’t listen, instead deciding to stand there and pout like a spoiled child.

“Last chance, Derek. Turn around,” you warn, your tone teetering between angry and downright enraged. When he doesn’t, you grab his waist, pushing him to the edge of the bed and bending him over it yourself. You yank his wrists behind him and shove yourself into him roughly. He yelps as you pound into him, barely allowing him a chance to adjust.

“Now,” you snarl between thrusts, “You’re going to be a good boy and take my strap. And to teach you some manners, I’m going to punish you. That’s what happens to bad boys. They get punished.” He whimpers in what anyone else would think is pain, but you know he’s aroused by this. Although he’ll never admit it out loud. Unless...

“Your punishment,” you thrust into him, “will consist of two things. First, you’re going to get five spanks. Second, after each one, you’re going to tell me how you get off on being punished and used like this. On being completely at my mercy,” you explain, your hand coming down hard on his ass as you push into him so hard he sees stars. “Now tell me how it feels,” you command. “I-I get off on you punishing me...” he sputters. You nod in approval.

“Two,” you spank him again, shoving yourself into him with a lewd slap of skin. “I-it makes me hard when you hit me... S-spank me and fuck me l-like this... I...” he whimpers.

“Three.” Your hand hits his ass with a resounding clap, and he lets out a stifled moan as you drive inside him with authority. “Feels good when you-fuuuck-use me...” he groans, but the way he says it sounds more like he’s begging you. So you fuck him harder.

“Four,” you slap his ass and thrust so hard he’s completely sandwiched between you and the bed. He cries out and screams your name before he whimpers, “Feels so good when... When you show me who’s in charge...” You smile at how obedient he’s being.

“Five.” A loud smack and then another as you shove your strap deep into him. “I like it when you make me yours... When you discipline me... d-do this to me...” Derek stutters. You moan loudly, his words hitting you like a freight train. You stand there for a bit, lost in thought about how well he took you before you hear Derek speak in a voice barely above a whisper, “C-can you do that again?”

[midnightmajick]

Types Of Writer’s Block (And How To Fix Them)

1. High inspiration, low motivation. You have so many ideas to write, but you just don’t have the motivation to actually get them down, and even if you can make yourself start writing it you’ll often find yourself getting distracted or disengaged in favour of imagining everything playing out

Try just bullet pointing the ideas you have instead of writing them properly, especially if you won’t remember it afterwards if you don’t. At least you’ll have the ideas ready to use when you have the motivation later on

2. Low inspiration, high motivation. You’re all prepared, you’re so pumped to write, you open your document aaaaand… three hours later, that cursor is still blinking at the top of a blank page

RIP pantsers but this is where plotting wins out; refer back to your plans and figure out where to go from here. You can also use your bullet points from the last point if this is applicable

3. No inspiration, no motivation. You don’t have any ideas, you don’t feel like writing, all in all everything is just sucky when you think about it

Make a deal with yourself; usually when I’m feeling this way I can tell myself “Okay, just write anyway for ten minutes and after that, if you really want to stop, you can stop” and then once my ten minutes is up I’ve often found my flow. Just remember that, if you still don’t want to keep writing after your ten minutes is up, don’t keep writing anyway and break your deal - it’ll be harder to make deals with yourself in future if your brain knows you don’t honour them

4. Can’t bridge the gap. When you’re stuck on this one sentence/paragraph that you just don’t know how to progress through. Until you figure it out, productivity has slowed to a halt

Mark it up, bullet point what you want to happen here, then move on. A lot of people don’t know how to keep writing after skipping a part because they don’t know exactly what happened to lead up to this moment - but you have a general idea just like you do for everything else you’re writing, and that’s enough. Just keep it generic and know you can go back to edit later, at the same time as when you’re filling in the blank. It’ll give editing you a clear purpose, if nothing else

5. Perfectionism and self-doubt. You don’t think your writing is perfect first time, so you struggle to accept that it’s anything better than a total failure. Whether or not you’re aware of the fact that this is an unrealistic standard makes no difference

Perfection is stagnant. If you write the perfect story, which would require you to turn a good story into something objective rather than subjective, then after that you’d never write again, because nothing will ever meet that standard again. That or you would only ever write the same kind of stories over and over, never growing or developing as a writer. If you’re looking back on your writing and saying “This is so bad, I hate it”, that’s generally a good thing; it means you’ve grown and improved. Maybe your current writing isn’t bad, if just matched your skill level at the time, and since then you’re able to maintain a higher standard since you’ve learned more about your craft as time went on

[midnightmajick]

So I've never been tipped before but this seriously pisses me off. Like seriously? Even if people barely do it, it should still be an option!

Tipping is going away on June 1, 2024

Hello, Tumblr! (And a special hello to our Tippers <3)

We introduced Tipping back in February 2022 in response to your feedback, and it’s been a great addition to many communities on Tumblr. We do love to launch features that bring you joy, and Tipping was a part of that effort.

Unfortunately, Tipping hasn’t seen the usage we’d hoped for. So, in order to focus on the things that really make Tumblr Tumblr for most users, we’re shutting Tipping down on June 1.

Have you tipped someone in the past, or is Tipping enabled on your blog? You don’t need to do anything; the little Tipping icon will automatically disappear from blogs or posts with the feature enabled, and you’ll no longer be able to Tip creators or receive Tips. Any money you have received from Tipping will be paid out to the account you registered with via Stripe by June 15.

While this will affect a very small number of you, we know that those of you who do Tip do so with great admiration for your Tumblr peers, and we’re sorry to be taking this away from you. We hope you can find other ways to show your affection and gratitude for your fellow users: You could gift someone a badge you think they’ll love or Blaze the post you’d otherwise have Tipped, and that will surely make someone’s day. 

Please contact Support if you have any questions about this change. Thank you, as always, for coming on this journey with us!

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[midnightmajick]

Get Your Freak On

Mike Schmidt x fem reader

Warnings: Smut, porn with (basically) no plot, literally takes place in a strip club so...

18+ only, Minors DNI

Word count: 1,691 words

Wrote this to "Get Ur Freak On" by Missy Elliott, I'll put the Spotify link below this.

It was 11pm, and Micheal Schmidt was in his own personal hell. Most guys would enjoy tonight, but Mike wasn’t most guys. If he had known this bachelor party were at a strip club, he probably wouldn’t have gone. Yeah, Mark was his best friend, but this was a line Mike wouldn’t willingly cross. He hated the idea of being there. He didn’t mind hookups, but full-on strip clubs were not his idea of fun. He sighed as he remembered he actually paid someone to watch Abby. Only to find out he would be spending the entire night here, where it reeked of sex.

All of his friends knew Mike wasn’t into this kind of thing either. No wonder they wouldn’t tell him where they were going until it was too late for him to weasel his way out of being there. So he sat in the corner, trying his best to ignore everyone and everything.

He was doing fine until you walked over to him. He wasn’t interested in you, but you found it strange how a man could be so cross at a place like this. “Hey there big boy, want me to cheer you up?” You asked in a sultry tone. Obviously this guy wasn’t happy to be here, and your boss would kill you if you didn’t try to fix it. It didn’t hurt that he was hot. Not in the typical fuck-boy way; in fact, he almost had a softer look to him. Well, despite the unwavering scowl on his face.

“No, I’m good thanks,” the man grumbled. This clearly wasn’t going to be easy. “Okay, but can you at least try not to look so angry? Between you and me, my boss isn’t exactly happy you’re sitting here in this kind of mood. He says it’s bad for business,” you reasoned with him. But you might as well have been grasping at straws. “Look, if I could leave, I would. It’s my best friend’s bachelor party; he and the rest of our friends tricked me into coming. I don’t want to be here. Nothing personal,” he growled.

“They tricked you into coming? That’s fucked up.”

“Yeah. And I can’t go home cause that would be rude. Plus I already paid the babysitter.”

“You have a kid?”

“No, I take care of my sister. I just hope she doesn’t find out this is where I was, cause she’s fucking ten.”

“Oh, damn. I honestly don’t blame you for being pissed. I’d be mad too.”

“Really?” his scowl evaporated. Finally, someone that understood how fucked up this entire situation was. And actually cared enough to listen to how he felt. “Yeah, I’m sorry they pulled that on you, that’s just a dick move.”

“No kidding.”

A pause.

“I’m Mike.”

“Y/N,” you responded.

Mike smiled. Not a forced smile, but a genuine one. For the first time tonight, he had a reason to. Sure, he hated being here, but at least you weren’t too bad. You were definitely easy on the eyes. Maybe this wasn’t as bad as he thought. He was suddenly aware of the fact that you were barely wearing anything, and a blush covered his face.

Before he noticed what he was doing, Mike’s eyes looked you up and down lecherously. You immediately took notice of how he was gaping at you, and a knot instantly formed in your stomach. Damn, Mike was making you feel all kinds of things you didn’t normally feel when you were working.

Maybe it was those big doe eyes of his that looked up at you, now glazed over with want. Or his strong hands that you just wanted to have touch you all over. But you had a feeling that the real reason you felt this way is because you could tell he saw you as more than an object, but as a human being. Just like him.

“Like what you see Mike?” you teased. Immediately, Mike broke out of his trance and blinked, a bright red blush covering his face. Clearly he was embarassed, but you reassured him, “No, it’s okay, take it all in, hun.” His eyes instantly snapped up to yours, searching for any doubt or discomfort in your expression.

When he failed to find any, his hands slid up your thighs and onto your waist, instantly earning a sigh from you. “That’s it hun, go ahead, take what you want.” You didn’t have to tell him twice. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he knew you’d gladly give it to him. He guided you down onto his lap, and if it wasn’t clear before how much he needed you, it was now. You could feel his cock pressing against his jeans, begging for release. The release you would give to him. You dragged your barely-clothed cunt over his crotch, eliciting a groan from his lips instantly. His hands kneaded at your hips, and you let out a low moan.

“Feel good, Princess?” he growled lustfully. God, this was going to be good. “Mike...” is all you could manage as he continued to grab at you. He was ensnared in your web, but that was okay with him. He wanted, no, needed, you so bad that he didn’t care how desperate he came across.

“Wanna head somewhere more-fuuuck-private?” you asked, your gaze pleading with him to fuck you already as he grasped at your soft skin. He grinned devilishly, and you knew exactly where to take him. You snagged his hand and led him to the back of the club, where you opened the back door. “I know a place, follow me.”

A few minutes later, you had brought him to your apartment. Normally you wouldn’t have taken him here, but something was different about him. You needed somewhere private so he could take you, and none of the rooms in the club you worked in were available. That, and they were kind of gross anyway. At least, in your opinion.

As soon as he walked in, a wave of shyness washed over Mike. This was your apartment, he didn’t really feel as if he belonged here, and he needed to be respectful. You sensed his cocky attitude shift, and as you led him to your bedroom, you knew you had to do something to keep him from bolting. So you tackled him onto the bed. His eyes widened in surprise, he wasn’t expecting it, but he wasn’t going to complain.

Before you had a chance to start doing what you had planned to, he flipped you over, sandwiching you between his body and the bed. You instantly moaned, completely caught off guard. His body was pressed on top of yours, and you could feel his hot breath on your neck.

You were about to beg him to do something, anything, but you never got the chance. His lips sucked on your neck, evoking a whimper from you. “Mike, fuuuck...” you whined, the tone of your voice an indicator of your arousal. “Come on, be my good girl now...” he mumbled, lost in a world of ardor.

His hips began jutting up into yours, and you both groaned in response. As he snapped up against you, his hands fumbled around for the clasps on your top. After unhooking them, he tore the revealing garment off of your chest. He stared at you salaciously, practically drooling over himself. How had he gotten so lucky?

He clawed at your bottoms desperately, and once he had them off, his eyes were glued to your pussy and how wet you were for him. Without delay, you started yanking his clothes off as well. As soon as you pulled his boxers off, his cock sprang free of its restraints, leaking a bit of pre-cum at its tip. Fuck, he was huge. If you weren’t used to this kind of thing, you would have wondered if you could take him.

Before you had time to react, Mike shoved himself inside of your cunt. You squealed in arousal and surprise as he began to fuck into you like a madman. It was clear he hadn’t done this in a while, he was completely desperate to ravage you, but you weren’t complaining. Whines spilled from your lips and his name rolled off of your tongue along with a string of obscenities and moans about how good his dick felt inside of you.

He pounded into you with fervor, hips snapping up into you and filling you up. His hand snaked down to your clit, and he began to rub circles against the sensitive flesh. You moaned loudly, unable to control the volume of your voice. The feeling of his dick as it pistoned up into you with accuracy and precision was incredible. He was hitting your G-spot over and over, and as his hand continually grazed over your clit, you knew you were done for. It wouldn’t be long now.

As you came, a guttural cry echoed throughout your apartment. Mike continued fucking into you, chasing his own release. He finally erupted, his breath hitching as you felt his cum paint your insides white. “Damn... That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” you panted. Your hair clung to your face from the layer of sweat that covered your body, which gave a slight sheen to your skin. “Me too,” Mike agreed.

“By the way, today was my last day. Glad it wasn’t yesterday,” you mused aloud. “I’m really glad too,” Mike replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. That’s when you realized. That he felt the same way you did. You had a feeling there was a connection before everything got so... sexual, but you weren’t sure if it was just you wanting it to be true so bad you believed it, or if it was actually real.

But now, based on that little display of affection, that little kiss he gave you a few moments ago, you knew. You were swept away inside your mind, but before you had a chance to continue your train of thought, Mike interrupted you. “By the way, could I have your number?”

[midnightmajick]

Don't Know Why

Mike Schmidt x Reader

Warnings: Angsty fluff

Word count: 1,351 words

I wrote (some of) this to Don't Know Why by Norah Jones. I'll link it below so you can listen to it while you read.

Also, the situation where the reader asks someone out and is only told yes because the other person thought they were joking actually happened to me in high school. Fun, I know. Anyway, I wrote this beast of a one shot in less than three days somehow. Here you are, enjoy!

“Hey, what’d he say? When are you two going out?” Mike asks casually, but as he walks into your living room, he finds you bawling your eyes out. He immediately makes his way over to you, a concerned expression etched onto his face. “Hey, you alright?” You sniffle, eyes bloodshot and tearstained. It’s been a rough day.

“He doesn’t love me,” you sob, tears falling from your eyes. He walks closer to you, his face tinged with sadness and pity. He understands how you feel. Probably better than anyone else. He’s been through so much heartbreak. Every girl he’s loved has turned him down. You’ve always felt bad for him, but at least you aren’t alone. “I thought he said he’d go out with you!” Mike says, clearly confused. “He said yes cause he thought I was joking,” you respond, half wailing as you do so.

“But you weren’t!” he replies frustratedly. He seems just as annoyed as you are depressed, and you can’t help but wonder why he’s so upset. Yes, he cares about you, but his discontent is more extreme than you expected it to be. Maybe you’re just overthinking. You brush off the thought and answer despite it.

“That’s what I said! He just said that he didn’t like me like that and reiterated that he thought I was kidding. I feel so stupid. How could I have ever thought he’d love me? Maybe I’m unlovable Mike.” “Hey, don’t say that, you aren’t unlovable,” he reasons. Or at least he tries. It doesn’t work.

“But there’s nothing desireable about me!” He instantly but softly replies, “There are so many good things about you.” He’s trying to reassure you, but it just angers you further.

“Oh yeah? Like what? Name three reasons anyone would love me. You won’t be able to. I kno-” But you never get a chance to finish, because Mike cuts you off. “You’re brave, smart, and kind. You always manage to make people laugh. You don’t hesitate to help someone in need. You give 110% on everything.”

You pause. How did he come up with all of those things so quickly? You immediately fire back, saying, “So? Lots of people are like that. There’s nothing about me specifically that makes me stand out.”

Mike sighs, clearly frustrated that you don’t see the good in yourself. He takes a deep breath before responding, “That’s not true.” “Yes it is! You know it!” you shoot back at him. “No I don’t. Because you’re wrong.” Why does he have to argue with you when there’s no evidence of you being wrong? Sure he wants to spare your feelings, but you wish he’d just tell you the truth.

“Ughhhh! Why do you have to lie to me? Nobody loves me Mike! No matter how great you say I am, nobody wants to be with me.” you say, growing increasingly annoyed. “I’m sure that’s not the case. Trust me, you-” Mike tries to parry the barrage of attacks you make upon yourself, but you refuse to allow him to finish speaking.

“No! I’ll never find anyone who wants me.” You know he’s trying to help, but it’s starting to irk you how insistant he’s being. “Maybe you just haven’t-” he starts, but you cut him off again. “I should just call it quits. Maybe someday it’ll change, but like I said, nobody loves me. Not now!” You’re about to break down into tears before he yells, “That’s not true!”

There’s silence for a few moments before you decide to challenge his statement. “Oh really? Name one person that has feelings for me. One.” Mike looks down at the floor, suddenly appearing anxious. “I knew it. You just have to say it cause you-” you start to raise your voice, but before you finish your sentence, he states, “Me.”

“What?” You reply, completely shocked. “You heard me,” he asserts. “You?” He nods ashamedly. “Just please...” “Yes?” you ask. “Don’t hate me.” He’s begging you, his eyes pleading for acceptance.

“Hate you? Why would I hate you?” you ask him, puzzled. “I know you don’t like me, but-” “Who said I didn’t?” He freezes, astonished by your answer. “What? But I thought you liked Aaron.” “I do, but...” you admit, hinting at something else. “But?” he presses.

You inhale deeply before continuing, “But I only went after him because I was afraid to go after you.” “Wait what? Go after me? You... like me? But... Why were you afraid?” he asks. “Cause I don’t want to lose you. And even if things worked out and you ended up liking me back and we got together, what if we broke up? Then I would lose you.” Your worries spill out before you’re able to stop them. So much for not seeming like an anxious mess.

“You’ll never lose me,” he smiles softly. You’ve never seen him open up like this. His chocolate brown eyes are sincere as always, but they don’t look nearly as tired; the dark circles under them have almost vanished.

The way he looks at you is killing you. He’s never looked at you like that before. You don’t think you’ve seen him look at anyone like that before except for Abby. He wears a tender expression, one that lights up his face. His kind eyes, his sweet smile. Every single feature of his almost angelic being is brighter, happier. Because of you.

“Mike... You’ve never looked at me like that before.” The way his eyes gaze into yours is making you melt. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me to, but now I know that’s not true. Is it?” You look down at the floor, embarrassed. He had you there.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t trying to pick on you. I just want to be sure it’s okay to show you how I feel, that’s all.” You smile slightly and nod. “That’s fine. I’d actually rather like that.” you avow.

“Would you now?” he smirks charmingly. “Yeah, I would.” Your eyes are half lidded as you answer flirtateously. He chuckles to himself quietly and takes a few steps toward you. His face glides toward yours, but right before his lips reach your own, he brings his mouth to your ear. He stops and speaks.

“Listen, I know he hurt you, but I swear on my life, I’d never do anything to harm you. Ever. I love you.” He pulls back from your ear and back towards your face. Bringing his fingers under your chin, he tilts it upward so you’re looking right into those big brown eyes of his. And then it happens. He kisses you. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips dance across yours. He gently cups your face in his hands, and as you’re locked in this loving embrace, it’s like time is frozen. Nothing matters right now. Nothing other than Mike and how good his kiss feels.

You feel all of the tension and stress exit your body, and you know now that this is meant to be. This was all supposed to happen. Aaron’s rejection. Mike finding you crying; comforting you. Finally telling you he loves you. It all makes sense now. None of this would be happening if Aaron hadn’t hurt you in the first place. All of this is racing through your head as Mike massages your lips with his own. After a few more seconds, he pulls away.

“I know why it happened.” you mutter. “What?” “I know why he had to hurt me. If he hadn’t, none of this would have happened.” You look up at him, awaiting his answer. “But why couldn’t he have just said no? He didn’t have to be so mean about it.” He’s still a bit upset about what happened to you, not to mention confused, but as he looks back down at you, his expression is soft and soulful. “I don’t know why. All I know that I love you. And now I know that you love me. That’s all I could ever ask for,” you reply lovingly. And then your lips meet once again.

[midnightmajick]

Miss Me?

Derek Danforth x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of drug use and sex, some angst

18+ only, Minors DNI

Word count: 1,076 words

Also, I wrote a part two, here is the fem reader version

Wanna Feel It

The masc reader version

Wanna Feel It (Masc Reader)

And the gn reader version

Wanna Feel It (Gn Reader)

Derek Danforth never truly let anyone know him for who he was. He put on a dominant, commanding facade, but underneath all of that, he’s just a little boy whose father left because he thought his son was a disappointment. If only his father could see him now. An unstoppable force who created his own multi-million-dollar empire. Who’s laughing now Dad? he thinks to himself.

He takes a drag from his cigarette and exhales, he’s tired and his head is pounding from the sheer amount of alcohol and weed he consumed last night. He’s half drifting off, half lost in thought when you come up behind him. He flinches. Who the fuck was behind him? He’s certain his pot was laced; he had a really bad trip last night and he’s still somewhat paranoid. You pick up on his worry, and you can’t help but feel bad for him.

“It’s just me,” you soothe. No response. Is he upset with you? “Derek?” But he still doesn’t answer you. Meanwhile, Derek is livid. As far as he can remember, he got a text from you saying you were leaving him. It was hazy, but it happened, right?

It bothered him more than it should, he didn’t usually get attached to people, and you shouldn’t be an exception. His father would say he was being pathetic, weak for missing you. And he would be right. If you leave, he can just find someone else. He doesn’t need you. Or at least he shouldn’t. But as you begin to speak, he realizes he does.

“Derek, what’s with you? You-” He immediately interrupts you, and his voice is full of malice. “You think you’ll ever find anyone like me? Who can give you what I can? Cause I’m telling you right now, you can’t. No matter what, I am the best thing that will ever happen to you. You can’t just throw me away. You’d be stupid to let go of-” But now it’s your turn to cut him off.

“What are you talking about? You’re acting like I did something, and I have no clue what the problem is. What did I do?” As soon as you finish your question, he leers at you. If looks could kill, well, you’d definitely be dead. “How do you not remember?” he growls. “Remember what?” Now you’re really confused. What the fuck was he talking about? “You said you were done with me,” he quips angrily, then snarkily retorts, “Not that it bothers me.”

“Number one, I never said that; and two, it’s clear that it does,” you respond, confused why he was saying you wanted to leave him. You never said anything of the sort, and you’re hurt that he wouldn’t have cared if you actually wanted to leave. You know he does deep down, but hearing him say otherwise is still painful.

You told yourself not to get attached to him, but that all went out the window after he fucked you the first time. You’re just in it for the sex, you tried to tell yourself, but somehow you find yourself consumed by thoughts of him. You wonder what he’d be like if he were sober, if he wasn’t so angry all of the time. He has a huge chip on his shoulder and you have no idea why. All you know is he seems to want to prove himself over and over, despite being incredibly successful.

What if he were happy? What if you could make him happy? You had to try, right? But what if he finds out how you feel about him and bolts? You know he’s afraid of commitment, that he doesn’t want to be tied down by anyone or anything. But what if? That question will always remain if you never try, and you know it.

You know you should be happy with what you have with him, with having him fuck your brains out, but you want more than that. You don’t just want his body, you want his heart. His response snaps you out of your thoughts instantly, and it nearly breaks your heart.

“It really doesn’t. If I wanted to replace you, I easily could. Don’t forget who has the power here. You think you have the right to talk to me like that? I’m Derek fucking Danforth, I don’t need you! I don’t need anyone! So fuck off Y/N!” he snarls, voice dripping with venom. “B-but... I don’t want you to replace me... I... need you...” You trail off as you sniffle, wiping away the tears forming in your eyes. He immediately freezes in place.

“What?” he blinks, clearly unsure if he’s hearing you correctly. “I...” You try to speak, but the words won’t come out. “No, say it,” he presses softly. “Please.” The please is small, but shocking nonetheless. He never says please. Why is he saying it now? What makes now a time for him to be kind to you? He was incredibly pissed at you ten seconds ago, so why isn’t he now?

“I said...” you start, but your lips are frozen in fear, your body trembling like a leaf. What if he leaves you? What then? You gulp, flicking your eyes to his as panic nearly overtakes you. But you find him looking right back at you, with an expression you’ve never seen on his face. Ever. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but it’s something soft, something sweet. Something completely foreign. Those gorgeous brown eyes are gazing right into yours, and you want nothing more than for him to kiss you. Not sensually, but lovingly. Tenderly.

“Go on, tell me,” he encourages, his eyes not leaving yours. Why is he acting like this? He’s never been sweet with you. He looks almost... Kind. As odd as you find this scenario, you find yourself unable to say no to him. Not when he looks at you like this.

“I need you,” you finally choke out. There’s no hiding it now. Your cheeks are flushed, your pupils blown wide. Not with desire, but with something else, something you haven’t felt in a long time.

Before you know it, his scent fills your nostrils and his lips ghost over yours. They meet in a familiar dance, but something is different. New, even. And then it finally clicks. Why he’s finally letting his guard down. Because he feels the same. Because he needs you too.

[midnightmajick]

Everybody Talks

Mike Schmidt x Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Word count: 1,124 words

For the best experience reading this, listen to Everybody Talks by Neon Trees. That's what I was listening to when I wrote it!

You and Mike have known each other for years. So whenever you wanted to come over, you knew he’d leave the key under the flowerpot to the left of the door. Today is no different.

You lift the flowerpot, and sure enough, the key is sitting right under it. You pick it up and insert it into the lock on the door before turning it and twisting the doorknob. You pull open the door and call out, “Hey, what’s up?”

Your voice echoes through the otherwise empty house as you walk through the door. Abby must be at a sleepover again. Or on a school trip. Either way, Mike’s alone for the weekend, and based on how fast his footsteps approach you, he’s happy to see you.

“Not much, you?” he replies as he wraps his arms around you. He’s very happy to see you. “Not a ton, you wanna play Super Smash Brothers?” “Sure,” Mike responds. “By the way, would it be okay if I invited my friends Monica, Jimmy, and Natalie over? I know you’ve never met them, but I thought it’d be fun.” “Dude, it’s your house, you don’t have to ask me.” “Well I just wanted to be polite. You are the guest after all, I have to ask you.” You snort in amusement.

“I suppose that’s okay,” you tease. “In all honesty, it sounds like a lot of fun to me.” “Alright, lemme call them real quick.” He walks over to the phone and begins dialing. “Ok, I’ll get the controllers.” You grab five Wii remotes and five nunchucks.

Before long, Mike’s friends show up. You all sit down on the couch and start playing. They’re all super nice, but nobody is as good at Super Smash Brothers as you are. Except Mike. But he’s been button mashing the whole time. It annoys you, but it isn’t working for him as well as your strategy works for you. That, and you’re too focused on fighting everyone else to do anything about it.

You all play several rounds, and before you know it, nine o’clock rolls around. Everyone else is in the kitchen talking, except for Natalie, but she’s taking an important call in the other room. That leaves only you and Mike, and you’re both still duking it out.

“Dude, you can’t do that, you’re cheating!” you complain. “No I’m not, I can button mash if I want!” he snickers. He clearly finds this hilarious. “No fair! If I did that, I’d beat the crap out of you!” “Would you though?” “Totally!” “Alright, do it then. I dare you,” he challenges.

You sigh in annoyance, you don’t want to. You know it’s what he wants, but right now he’s winning, so how else can you beat him? Then again, that would destroy your dignity as a gamer. Right? Maybe not. If he beats you by button mashing, it’ll be embarrassing. But if you button mash and win... Maybe button mashing is only bad if you lose doing it. And you’re great at this. You can’t lose, right?

“Okay, fine. Game on, Mike,” you say as you furrow your brow in concentration. You both begin button mashing, and you immediately notice that it isn’t going to work well for you. He smirks at you, he knows he’ll win if he continues. You have to do something, but what? You don’t want to wipe that smile off of his face, but you don’t want to lose. You’re going to lose, though, you know it. You think, and your mind wanders while your character flounders on the screen.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you hear a beeping noise from the TV. You lost. And Mike is determined to rub it in your face. But you’re determined to shut him up. You’re a bit annoyed, and all you want to do is slap your hand over his mouth, but you don’t care about his teasing once you remember it. The exchange you overheard between him and Abby a few days ago. The one where he admitted to liking you.

You ponder what to do about it, you always liked Mike too, but you weren’t supposed to hear that conversation. And you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. That’s the last thing you wanted, and you knew that’s what would happen if you talked to him about it. But if you both liked each other, why shouldn’t you do something about it? Plus, all of his friends were in different parts of the house. And then it hits you. You can shut him up and do something about it at the same time.

“Ha! Told you button mashing was superior! Not even you can de-” And then your lips smash against his. He’s surprised, that’s for sure, but he doesn’t pull away. In fact, he leans forward, into your lips. He closes his eyes and melts into you, and it’s clear he’s enjoying this almost as much as you are, if not more. Several moments pass, and before you know it, Mike is pulling away for air. You’re both panting heavily, having given into the moment completely. His next words come out in ragged gasps, his attempts to calm himself proving futile. “I-I’ve wanted that for so long...”

But before you can respond, you hear a cup fall to the floor. You look up to see Natalie gawking at both of you. Mike’s face is bright red, and you’re certain yours is too. You grab his hand and squeeze, trying to show him that you’re not going anywhere, that you’re there to support him. He smiles and squeezes back. Natalie runs off to the kitchen, no doubt to tell everyone what she just saw, leaving you and Mike staring at each other. You’re both speechless, unsure what to do, that is, until he starts laughing.

“What’s so funny? She’s gonna go tell them, I thought you’d at least try to stop her. It doesn’t bother me that they know, but I know you aren’t usually open about that kind of thing.” He sighs in relief when you say them knowing doesn’t bother you, and giggles a bit before he continues. “Normally it would bother me, but I know you’re there for me. If you’re not afraid, then maybe I don’t need to be either,” he speaks softly.

“Also, Natalie isn’t exactly great at keeping secrets. She’d probably tell them later even if I stopped her. She wouldn’t do it to be mean, it’s just that she can’t help herself,” he explains. “Are you sure? I want to make sure you’re okay,” you tell him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I have you,” he responds, gazing lovingly into your eyes. “Everybody talks anyway.”