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kaisaerinlover · 3 months ago

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TW: this is darkcon

don’t read if you don’t like dark con like this is dark con it has domestic abuse etc

kaiser makes you want to die. no really, he does, he’s such a horrible person; nasty boyfriend, vicious and mean to you, always hostile. what’s even the point? why do you even bother with him at all? because you’re stuck with him, obviously, because he’s smarter than you and even though admitting that is the worst thing ever, it’s unfortunately the truth.

he’s smart, you know what he’s up to; you know when he lovebombs you, you know he gaslights you more times than he’d ever admit (he never admits to any wrongdoing), you know he plays mind games with you for fun, knows he makes you cry because he simply can, knows he derives great pleasure in seeing your despaired eyes, knows he loves it when he sees fat tears rolling down your cheeks at his words or actions, knows he loves to hurt you, knows he isolated you from everyone but him (the exception is when you complained you had no friends anymore and he just sighed and pushed ness towards you as if that was a good replacement for friends) and he’s just mean in general.

you know you can’t leave now because everyone already hates you; seriously? you dropped everyone and cut ties with people who have supported you for years because of michael kaiser? sure he’s a famous footballer, rich and handsome, but girl he beats you? your friends would never look you in the eye again, you’re estranged from your family, you have quite literally nothing. and the worst part is, you don’t want to leave kaiser. you really don’t - if you ever said you do it would be impulsive. maybe that’s why he says you’re being so dramatic so often, maybe he’s right after all. you love him with all of your heart and you have for years now. you are so unbelievably full of him, and it fucking kills you that he doesn’t act the same towards you. he’s sitting next to you on the couch now, watching the match he just played 3 days ago. he won, but he was angry. someone else scored a goal or something, you don’t know. you don’t know much about football, you tried to learn it; you swear you did! but you just never quite grasped it. but it’s fine, you’re always the perfect little outlet for kaiser’s rage. whether he screams at you that you’re a bitch and you deserve to die, don’t deserve him at all, claims you distracted him. whether he beats you senseless, twists your fingers, pulls your hair, turns you black and blue from the cruel beration of his fists. whether he just cries in your arms (a personal favourite) and actually shows what he feels deep down inside. it’s another reason you’ve never quite found the strength to leave him. you feel so motherly towards him, sure, he’s not calling you mommy, he very much likes to be in control in the relationship, but you can tell he’s just a broken child deep down. maybe it hits you extra hard and you want to save him even more because you’re exactly the same.

he’s so engrossed in the match, dawning his robe that costed an ungodly amount of money and those circle rimmed glasses that you (secretly) think he looks so cute in. you look pathetic next to him, bruises all up your legs, bandaids on some cuts and others showing, your skin looks sickly, big dark circles under your big eyes that kaiser (used to) love so much. you’re wearing barely anything too. just a pair of pajamas; frilly shorts and a sweater kaiser had bought you on your 2nd anniversary. you look worthless in comparison to his look, his vibe, his all. and that kills you.

kaiser long noticed your gaze, he knows you well enough to know exactly what you’re thinking of too; unfortunate for you. or fortunate: most girls would kill to have a boyfriend as attentive as this. he thinks you’re awfully cute sitting next to him on the fancy couch he insisted he had to buy for the living room, looking oh so very pathetic. he wants to punch you (endearingly), he swears he does. you look so small next to him, figuratively and literally. he does it on purpose because he gets off on it. sick fuck. he knows he is. you know it too deep down, but you hate admitting it to yourself. maybe because admitting the only person you have left in your life. kaiser randomly slapping you snaps you out of your thoughts.

anyone else would hate this, burst into tears, scream, slap him back, anything except what you do. you’re truly so docile. you learned to ignore the pain and put michael kaiser first; because michael kaiser is the first thing you’ve ever truly had and kept for such a long time. the sting on your cheek pales in comparison to everything about him. “what are you thinking about, hm?” he asks you. he’s smirking; he knows. so don’t lie to him.

kaiser watches your cheek grow red from his harsh slap, and laughs a bit. “i was just- you’re- you’re just… mean” it’s blurted out. no sense of coherency in anything you’re saying. unlike kaiser, he’s always composed somehow. well, sort of, sometimes he loses his cool so bad that even you’re unsure if it’s still him inside. but you know it is, he loves you so much he lets you see that side of him. “i’m only mean so you stay, you know? i can’t have you going anywhere” he’s caressing and pinching your cheek. it hurts a lot; he’s strong. but you can swallow your pride (the tiny bit you have left) that’s what you’ve done your whole life, after all. he knows he can just admit it at this point: no need to hide the manipulation anymore, it’s not like you’ll leave. and you nod. and he turns back to the tv. and that’s that.

that’s that until he sees something that he doesn’t like. he scowls in anger. and you’re in for it.

kaiser hates to be outshined anywhere, because he has something to prove unlike everyone else. prove that he’s not a completely useless piece of shit like everyone oh so loves to and loved to remind him the whole time he has graced this earth with his presence. so when he was hit with the brutal reminder of what happened in his last game; someone else scoring a hat trick on the other team. someone else outdoing him. someone else getting all of the attention and praise. all the articles calling him ‘washed’, asking if his legacy will end. it pissed him off. before he would take it out on himself, choke himself and treat himself like the subhuman he knows deep down inside he is. but now he has you; thank god for that.

and it irks him a little that you never react as he rags you by the hair to your bedroom, your body bruising along the way, hitting whatever objects and walls are on the way there. you never complain or beg him to stop - you did at first. the first few times you did. but it was fruitless, kaiser is a ball of compressed rage, constructed from every bad experience he’s ever had. so are you, but your low self esteem’s both manifest in different ways. you’re really no better.

and you cry as silently as you can as he beats the life out of you. if you cry too loud you’ll only make it worse (you don’t want to see what’s worse than this). sometimes he still tells you he does this for your own good, but even you don’t believe it anymore. but maybe you deserve this - you could just leave. he wouldn’t chase after you, would he? you’re not sure; but you could leave. and yet you don’t. and he knows you won’t. that’s why he treats you like this. he likes the power he has over you, because being with you is like being a god. being a god who is able to pass judgement over you however he wishes and whenever he wishes. because you’re his most devoted believer. he likes the way you look with bruises; likes the look enough he can push down the sickening feeling and bile that threatens to rise upwards and out of him onto the expensive marble floor of your bedroom. the feeling he gets knowing you don’t even fight back anymore. you have a really beautiful soul, he thinks as he beats the fucking shit out of you. how ironic. you’re truly beautiful. blood splattered everywhere. black and blue all over your legs. you look even more pathetic next to him now - or below him, he supposes.

do you know how awkward it is to lay in bed next to you after this? for him it’s awkward, he can’t imagine what it’s like for you. he’s reading something with the lamp on and his stupid prestigious looking robe and glasses on still again. all cleaned up, looking nice. you’re fine too; he guesses. or not really, you have blood on your nose, a huge black eye, and an ungodly amount of marks all over you. you’re always going to look pathetic next to him, it’s just your fate. you chose to date him. you don’t move: you’re lifeless even. but he feels your breathing shifting your side of the bed slightly, and that’s enough for him. you’re in so much pain that even laying down hurts, but you still nod when kaiser asks you anything. he always does this; tries a sick attempt at small talk afterwards. “my match is next week, you’re coming too. do you think i’ll win?” he tries to question as casually as he can. but he’s scared you can hear the break in his voice as he says it. you just nod. it hurts like hell - he had his hand wrapped around your neck and your head pressed against the hard floor. but you nod anyway to appease him. you don’t even know if he notices; for once you doubt he loves you. how could he? you want to believe he does, but you’re not sure anymore. the salty taste of your tears running into your mouth eases you into sleep. the taste of it mixing with your blood and dripping into your mouth. sleep is the only safe haven you get. at least you get to ignore the agonising pain you’re in and dream of a significantly nicer kaiser as your boyfriend.

when he’s sure you’re asleep, he wipes his eyes dry of tears and kisses your head. he’s sorry. he does love you. he doesn’t know why he’s this mean. he’s sorry. he noticed your crying too. he loves your face when you look like that usually; but now he doesn’t. well, he does a bit, he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t. but he wants to make you happy too; but he doesn’t know how. being nice is never something that fit him. he always justified it with ‘opposites attract’ (he knows this is entirely different). he’s leaning over your frail, sleeping form. tears cascading down his face onto you. cleaning off the blood from that nosebleed he gave you. your nose gave a sickening crack when he hit you there - god it even made him cringe.

he’s sorry. he caresses you as you sleep like you’re the most precious thing in the world. he’s a real piece of work. a fucking subhuman. and he’s sorry. he doesn’t know why he’s like this. you gave him all of you in the best way possible so he threw his whole self at you too in the worst way possible.

you don’t deserve this, so he’ll change. it’s just a matter of when and how. he hasn’t quite worked out the kinks yet, but when he does he’ll change and give you the world. he’s so gentle as he touches you whilst you sleep. his tattooed hand stroking your hair so sweetly. he does his last selfish act of the night and grabs you to pull you against him so he can feel your warmth radiating to lull him to sleep. and you feel it; it’s not selfish, you’re so happy. you lean into each other instinctively. it’s nice when he’s so loving, it maybe makes his onslaught of violence against you all worth it. you both like feeling loved, but only one of you is preventing that.

“sorry, i love you, i’ll change meine prinzessin. ich versprochen” it’s a whispered promise into your aching soul. but you believe him, you always believe him. you hope he’ll fix you. and he already knows you’re fixing him. you stir again from your sleep and put your body through even more pain to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “i know”

sleep comes easy to both of you that night. kaiser knows that this is love; but he can’t keep doing this. he’ll try to change - that’s a promise.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x y/n #michael kaiser x reader #dark content #kaiser x reader #darkcon #yandere blue lock

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dear-ao3 · 9 months ago

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hey wait im also new to f1 but i saw the other ask and i was curious abt what you meant when you said no one will ever do it like nico rosberg?? also retiring after your first championship win is insane lmao what a power move

nico rosberg is just. he’s insane. he’s cunty. he’s wonderful. he possesses sass and audacity unlike any other. we unfortunately do not have time to get into his whole story (my lunch break is only so long) but here’s some highlights:

-technically he’s a nepo baby. his dad, keke rosberg, won the world championship in 1982 and they remain one of the Few father son duos to both win a world championship (don’t ask me who the others are idk but i know they exist)

-he and lewis hamilton met when they were kids in the late 90s sometime and were gokarting teammates at some point in i think the early 2000s? (not fact checking i don’t have the time rn) and they were Besties. they’ve talked about this before, mostly in older interviews, but the gist is that both of them were outcasts from the other karting kid in opposite ways (nico was the son of a champion and rich and lewis was from nothing and pretty much the only poc most of the time) and that drew them together and they were Menaces according to legend. everything was a competition and they trashed hotel rooms and ate pizza and ice cream and kellogg frosties and went to greece and dreamed of being in f1 together

-nico signed with williams in 2006. his teammate was mark webber. and nico had long flowing blonde hair (this is important). he crashed at one race and mark webber said “britney’s in the wall” cementing the nickname britney, like britney spears. jenson button (another driver) said later on that they called nico britney because he was “very pretty” (do with that what you will)

-he was just. insane. cunty. constantly looked like a european bond villain. wore god awful shoes. whole bit. once he stayed in his car when it got craned off the track cause he didn’t want his hair to get wet. which is insane cause he’s wearing a helmet it would have gotten equally as not wet had he gotten out.

-anyway, lewis made it to f1 in 2007 and they had their first podium together i think that year (?) and it’s cute and fun and oh boy you’re not ready for what these two have coming

-lewis won the championship in 2008 (but he almost won in 2007, his rookie year) at mclaren.

-nico went to mercedes when they recentered the grid in 2010. his teammate was michael schumacher, who was fresh out of retirement. (yes the michael schumacher, 7x world champion). michael fucked with nico endlessly according to legend, including making him piss in a bucket pre race because he would hog the bathroom until the last possible second. nico still out preformed him most of the time, and the car was mid as hell.

-michael retired part 2 at the end of 2012. and who replaced him but lewis hamilton

-so the two of them were teammates again. the cards were absolute Stacked against them. because yes they were besties yes they’d known eachother forever but the first person you’re judged against is your teammate. and you’re trying to beat your teammate. and lewis already had a championship. nico wanted a championship.

-2013 was relatively chill. the car was kinda mid. they did well but not fantastic and did some fuck ass pr (highly reccomend looking those videos up)

-2014 they had a car that could win. and they started fighting eachother for wins. they played all kinds of mind games against eachother and withheld stats and nico ran illegal engine modes (supposedly) and lewis said they were no longer friends after nico supposedly wrecked his monaco qualifying one year but they claimed they still supported eachother and were friends off track. lewis won in 2014 and in 2015. but nico was right behind him and he wanted to win a championship, he didn’t want to be a number 2 driver

-so in 2016 nico did some insane shit. he stopped sleeping with his wife so that he could get better sleep or something, he did weird things to cut weight, he basically did everything and then some to win. and then he did. he won the championship and then at the prize giving ceremony announced he was retiring. he didn’t tell lewis this.

more after i get off work :)

#not a tag #from saph #nico rosberg

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ninibeingdelulu · 1 year ago

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Three times he realized he love you ft. michael kaiser

a/n: reader’s noel noa little sis, and not everything is accurate to the plot. Chat, should I write more of this ?

the first time

It was during one of the Blue Lock training sessions when Michael first felt that telltale flutter in his chest around you.

You'd come by to visit Noel, sneaking in snacks for him like the doting little sister you were.

But when you waved hello to the rest of the players, Michael was caught off guard by how bright your smile was directed at him.

Just a simple friendly greeting, but he felt his heart kick up a few beats faster.

As the training drills ramped up in intensity, he kept stealing glances over at you cheering on the sidelines. The way your eyes sparkled with excitement, how you clapped so animatedly at every good play.

He couldn't help but start showing off a bit more, putting some extra flair into his dribbling and shooting just to try and impress you.

And each time you whooped and hollered for him, that fluttering feeling grew harder to ignore.

By the end of practice, Michael knew he was in dangerous territory...yet he couldn't wait for the next chance to see you again.

the second time

There was a team bonding night out at the local arcade, a rare chance to blow off some steam outside Blue Lock's rigorous confines.

Michael, usually so focused, found his attention divided between his mates battling it out over videogames...and you.

You'd tagged along again and were currently immersed in an intense dancing game session, moving with impressive rhythm and vigor.

He got caught up watching the way your body swayed, how those slender hips rolled and your expression scrunched up in adorable concentration with each new flurry of moves.

The next thing Michael knew, one of the guys was laughing and nudging him - he'd become so entranced watching you dance that he'd completely zoned out from their com-bat game.

Cheeks flushing, he tried to play it off...but couldn't dislodge that image of you moving with such unrestrained passion and zest from his whirlwind mind the rest of the night.

the third time

The final piece slotted into place thanks to an unexpectedly tender moment interrupted.

Noel had fallen ill, so you'd brought him some homemade soup to help nurse him back to health.

Of course, your perpetually hungry older brother devoured it within minutes while you fussed over him sweetly. But then you scooped up another spoonful and turned to Michael with that radiant smile again.

"Open up, you big lug. I want you to taste it, plus I cooked too much for my dummy brother."

You cooed it so easily, not even thinking twice about doting on him too with that same sisterly affection.

As Michael obediently parted his lips and tasted that rich, nourishing broth from your hands, he was suddenly overwhelmed with a protective instinct fiercer than anything he'd experienced on the pitch.

In that simple act of caring, Michael realized how lucky he was that your generosity and tender warmth had been bestowed upon his chaotic life too.

Not just as Noel's little sis, but as his own...he wanted to keep being on the receiving end of your special brand of unconditional love in whatever capacity you'd allow.

A burning need to cherish and look after you in turn blazed to life inside him.

As you happily continued fussing between the two most important guys in your life, Michael knew then he was utterly, completely, and hopelessly enamored with you in the deepest way possible. His soulmate, his future, his empress...his everything.

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kaydensb · 3 months ago

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Here is a link for a whole bunch of movies, TV shows and more.

Apparently on my other post about the google drive there were some issues with not being able to get the link to work. So I am making another post in the hopes this one has no issues with the link not working.

Hopefully all the prior issues with getting things to open or show up have been fixed, but if not let me know specifically what isn't working and I will try to re-upload it.

Below is a list of the things currently on my google drive, I will add more and keep updating this list periodically as things get put on the drive.

Audiobooks and Audio Dramas

Fiction

1984 By George Orwell

A Tale of Two Cities By Charles Dickens

Animal Farm By George Orwell

Bleak House By Charles Dickens

Bridgerton Series By Julia Quinn

Chemistry By Rachael Sommers

Daisy Jones and the Six By Taylor Jenkins Reid

David Copperfield By Charles Dickens

Do Not Disturb By Freida McFadden

Dracula By Bram Stoker

Eve of Man Series By Tom Fletcher & Giovanna Fletcher

Fellow Travelers By Thomas Mallon

Frankenstein By Mary Shelley

Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe By Fanny Flagg

Friends of Dorothy By Sandi Toksvig

Gone Girl By Gillian Flynn

Gothic Tales By Arthur Conan Doyle

Great Expectations By Charles Dickens

H.G. Wells The Science Fiction Collection By H.G Wells

It By Stephen King

Jurassic Park By Michael Crichton

Les Misérables By Victor Hugo

Little Women By Louisa May Alcott

Mansfield Park By Jane Austen

Me Before You By Jojo Moyes

Neon Roses By Rachel Dawson

No One I Knew By A. J. McDine

Oliver Twist By Charles Dickens

Pride and Prejudice By Jane Austen

Red, White & Royal Blue By Casey McQuiston

Sense and Sensibility By Jane Austen

Should Have Known Better By A J McDine

Stranger in the Woods By Anni Taylor

The Complete Sherlock Holmes Collection By Arthur Conan Doyle

The Exorcist By William Peter Blatty

The Forgetting By Hannah Beckerman

The Girl on the Train By Paula Hawkins

The Glitch By Leeanne Slade

The Great Gatsby By F. Scott Fitzgerald

The Honey Witch By Sydney J. Shields

The Invite By A. J. McDine

The Murder Game By Tom Hindle

The Picture of Dorian Gray By Oscar Wilde

The Promise You Made By A. J. McDine

The Woman in Black By Susan hill

The Wonder Boy of Whistle Stop By Fannie Flagg

The Wrong Sister By Claire Douglas

Think Again By Jacqueline Wilson

Torchwood

We Play Games by Sarah A. Denzil

When You Least Expect It By Haley Cass

Non Fiction

A Billion Years My Escape from a Life in the Highest Ranks of Scientology By Mike Rinder

All I Know Now By Carrie Hope Fletcher

Apparently There Were Complaints By Sharon Gless

Bad Gays A Homosexual History By Huw Lemmey & Ben Miller

Barnum's Own Story By P T Barnum

Best Foot Forward By Adam Hills

Between the Stops By Sandi Toksvig

Beyond Belief By Jenna Miscavige

Black Mass By Gerrard O’Niell & Dick Lehr

Blown for Good - Behind the Iron Curtain of Scientology By Marc Headley

Boy From the Valleys By Luke Evans

Che Guevara By Jon Lee Anderson

Church of Lies By Flora Jessop & Paul T. Brown

Coming Up for Air By Tom Daley

Dare to Dream By Izzy Judd

David Bowie Made Me Gay - 100 Years of LGBT Music By Darryl W Bullock

Deaf Utopia By Nyle DiMarco

Escaping the Kingdom of God By J. Andrew Robinson

Fahrenheit-182 By Mark Hoppus

Fathomless Riches By Rev Richard Coles

Freddie Mercury The Definitive Biography By Lesley-Ann Jones

Friends, Lovers and the Big Terrible Thing By Matthew Perry

From Here to the Great Unknown A Memoir By Lisa Marie Presley & Riley Keough

Help I S*xted My Boss By William Hanson & Jordan North

Karma By Boy George

Letters on Love By Giovanna Fletcher

Mama’s Boy By Dustin Lance Black

Notorious by Raphael Rowe

Once upon a Tyne By Ant & Dec

Our Story By Reg and Ron Kray

Over Our Dead Bodies By Todd Harra & Kenneth McKenzie

Rainbow History Class By Hanna McElhinney

Scientology: Abuse at the Top By Amy Scobee

Sh**ged. Married. Annoyed By Chris Ramsey & Rosie Ramsey

The Church of Fear by John Sweeney

The Doomsday Mother By John Glatt

The House of My Mother By Shari Franke

The Hundred Years' War on Palestine By Rashid Khalidi

The Mayor of Castro Street By Randy Shilts

The Peer and the Gangster By Daniel Smith

The Phantom Prince By Elizabeth Kendall

Under the Banner of Heaven By Jon Krakauer

Under the Bridge By Rebecca Godfrey

Documentaries and Docudramas

A Lion Called Christian

A Very British Sex Scandal

Abused By My Girlfriend

Accused - The Hampstead Paedophile Hoax

Aids - The Unheard Tapes

Alex Brooker: Disability and Me

Bad Influence: The Dark Side of Kidfluencing

Bad Influencer - The Great Insta Con

Bowie - The Man Who Changed The World

Boyzone: No Matter What

Children of the Underground

Dancing for the Devil - The 7M TikTok Cult

Daughters of the Cult

Desperately Seeking Soulmate - Escaping Twin Flames Universe

Devil in the Family: The Fall of Ruby Franke

Dinosaurs - The Final Day with David Attenborough

Dirty Pop - The Boy Band Scam

Driven - The Billy Monger Story

Escaping Polygamy

Escaping Twin Flames

Freddie Mercury - The Great Pretender

Frozen Planet

Frozen Planet II

Good Grief with Reverend Richard Coles

Hatton Garden - The Inside Story

Hell Camp - Teen Nightmare

I Am Not A Rapist

I Cut Off His Penis - The Truth Behind The Headlines

Ireland's Mother and Baby Scandal

Killing Patient Zero

Leah Remini: Scientology and the Aftermath

Lewis Capaldi - How I'm Feeling Now

Liar: The Fake Grooming Scandal

Living Every Second: The Kris Hallenga Story

Lord Montagu

Mama's Boy

Matt Willis: Fighting Addiction

Murdaugh Murders - A Southern Scandal

Murder Among the Mormons

My Wife My Abuser - Captured On Camera

Pennywise - The Story of It

Planet Earth

Planet Earth II

Queen - Days Of Our Lives

Sacred Soil - The Piney Woods School Story

Sarah Everard: The Search for Justice

Scientology: Going Clear - The Prison of Belief

Soham: The Murder of Holly & Jessica

Stolen Youth - Inside the Cult at Sarah Lawrence

Strike - An Uncivil War

Strike! The Women Who Fought Back

Striking with Pride: United at the Coalface

Surviving Amber Heard

Take Care of Maya

The Bambers : Murder at the Farm

The Boys - The Sherman Brothers' Story

The Exorcist Untold

The Family

The Krays - The Mafia Connection

The Menendez Brothers

The Millennium Dome Heist With Ross Kemp

The Movies That Made Us

The Pembrokeshire Murders - Catching the Gameshow Killer

The Program - Cons, Cults and Kidnapping

The Settlers

The Times of Harvey Milk

Tom Daley 1.6 Seconds

Uprising

Waco - American Apocalypse

Warren Jeffs: Prophet of Evil

Wonders of the World I Can't See

Films

A Haunting in Venice

About a Boy

All of Us Strangers

American Psycho

Armageddon

Bad Tidings

Basic Instinct

Beautiful Boy

Beautiful Thing

Beetlejuice

Boy Erased

Boys Don’t Cry

But I'm a Cheerleader

Chicago

Child's Play

Chocolat

City of Lies

Clue

Contagion

Cool Runnings

Corpse Bride

Dallas Buyers Club

Dawn of the Dead

Death on the Nile

Deck the Halls

Die Hard

Dirty Dancing

Donnie Brasco

Downton Abbey

Edward Scissorhands

Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind

Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

Four Weddings and a Funeral

Fried Green Tomatoes

From Hell

Gone Girl

Gremlins

Hairspray

Handsome Devil

Heathers

Heathers - The Musical

Home Alone

Hot Fuzz

How the Grinch Stole Christmas

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days

Jaws

Jingle All The Way

Jumanji

Jurassic Park

Kill Your Darlings

Kindergarten Cop

Kinky Boots

Labyrinth

Legally Blonde

Legend

Les Misérables

Les Misérables: The Staged Concert

Little Shop of Horrors

Little Women

Love Actually

Mean Girls

Midsommar

Milk

Minamata

Miracle on 34th Street

Moulin Rouge!

Murder on the Orient Express

Murdered for Being Different

Newsies

Oliver!

Philadelphia

Pirates of the Caribbean

Portrait of a Lady on Fire

Prayers For Bobby

Pride

Pride and Prejudice

Red, White and Royal Blue

Rent

Scarface

Scream

Scrooged

Secret Window

Shaun of the Dead

Shelter

Sister Act

Sleepy Hollow

Star Wars

Sweeney Todd - The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

The Addams Family

The Amityville Horror

The Blair Witch Project

The Conjuring

The Craft

The Crow

The Exorcist

The Full Monty

The Greatest Showman

The imitation Game

The Muppet Christmas Carol

The Nightmare Before Christmas

The Santa Clause

The Shawshank Redemption

The Sixth Sense

The Sound of Music

The Tourist

The Woman in Black

Three Men and a Baby

Three Men and a Little Lady

Titanic

Transcendence

Twister

Uncle Buck

Unicorns

West Side Story

What We Did on Our Holiday

White Christmas

Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

Zola

Stand Up Comedy

Adam Hills

Chris McCausland

Chris Ramsey

Daniel Howell

Daniel Sloss

Dara O'Briain

Ed Byrne

Fern Brady

Greg Davies

John Bishop

Rhod Gilbert

Sarah Millican

Sean Lock

TV Shows

90210

Agatha All Along

Alan Davies: As Yet Untitled

Apple Cider Vinager

Being Human

Big Night of Musicals

Bridgerton

Celebrity Race Across the World

Code of Silence

Criminal Minds

Cuckoo

Daisy Jones and the Six

Deadwater Fell

Desperate Housewives

Doctor Who

Downton Abbey

Dynasty

Eyewitness

Fellow Travelers

Fire Country

Friends

Good Girls

Good Omens

Good Trouble

Heartstopper

I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here!

Interview with the Vampire

It's A Sin

Killing Eve

Looking

Mary & George

Mid-Century Modern

Midnight Mass

Missing You

My Family

My Wife and Kids

Nevermind the Buzzcocks

One Tree Hill

Parenthood

Queer as Folk

Shameless

Sky Med

Sleepy Hollow

Switched at Birth

Taskmaster

The Alienist

The Artful Dodger

The Clearing

The Couple Next Door

The Fosters

The Haunting of Bly Manor

The Haunting of Hill House

The Jetty

The Midnight Club

The Misinvestigations of Romesh Ranganathan

The Pembrokeshire Murders

The Perfect Couple

The Society

The Stranger

The Unofficial Science Of…

The Watcher

Torchwood

Toxic Town

Under the Banner of Heaven

Under the Bridge

Virgin River

WandaVision

White Collar

White House Farm

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goooofy-goooober1121 · 22 days ago

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TWST Boys and 2010s Childhood Things

Source: I grew up during the 2010s

Ask box is open! Please Feel free to Request!

Reblogs are always appreciated!! <3

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

Magic Treehouse books

Like idk if they're specifically 2010s things but I remember those being insanely popular when I was in elementary

If I remember correctly Jack was the levelheaded one so automatically he was Riddle's favorite character

Got frustrated with Annie a million times over for being impulsive

His favorites were definitely the "Learning From Heroes" books and I think his favorite out of those would be To the Future, Ben Franklin

Probably pretended that if he had a Magic Treehouse he would go back to the past to meet the Queen of Hearts

Trey Clover

Easy Bake Oven

Those toothbrushes that would "play music in your head" while you brushed by vibration patterns

Tooth Tunes I think is what they're called?

I don't see why it can't be both

Definitely gets the Justin Bieber ones

Also somehow really skilled with the Easy Bake Oven????

Cater Diamond

Vine and Musical.ly

Was probably behind all those "RIP Vine" YouTube videos

Definitely had hundreds of those Musical.ly lip sync videos

Lowkey probably pretty big on Vine

Quotes vines ALL. THE. TIME.

He memorized all the sounds on Musical.ly

Ace Trappola

The FNAF Kid to Deuce's Minecraft Kid

Loredumps FNAF like it's his holy bible

This reminds me this one time I was doing health screenings at an elementary school for my high school's medical academy course

And I was supposed to check the vision of this one kid but he came up to me and was like

"do you like FNAF"

and I was like yeah I played it all the time and he just went OFF about how he loved Springtrap/Golden Freddy and all the lore and stuff

It was a very good conversation

I'm glad to know that today's children are not totally lost

Anyways storytime over that was Ace coded 100%

Also probably had those dumbass shirts like "I could be GAMING right now 🎮‼️"

Deuce Spade

The Minecraft Kid to Ace's FNAF Kid

Was deathly afraid of Herobrine

Tried to build the Herobrine summoning shrine (he saw a fake YouTube video) anyways

Also definitely tried to build the Aether portal

Wore Minecraft shirts religiously

Probably had a foam diamond sword at some point

Knows every Minecraft parody song by heart

Big fan of Stampy Cat and DanTDM

Probably got a virus downloading Minecraft mods

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

Ipod touch/early iphones

Specifically just for music

LOVED to wear earbuds all the time

Will never admit it but he was a huge Bruno Mars listener

Idk why it just feels right

"The Lazy Song" became his anthem

Also consider: Animal Jam

Edgy ass lion or tiger avatar

He's rich so he was a member from day 1

Ran kingdom roleplays where he gets to be king always

Has every spiked collar under the sun and rubs it in people's faces

Ruggie Bucchi

He's a Nickelodeon kid

Spongebob (I know it's from before the 2010s but like it was still running and good during the 2010s so I'm including it)

Watched Victorious and iCarly religiously

Got WAY TOO INVESTED

Cried when Tori got stuck in that prison overseas and had to sing Michael Jackson songs to get out

Also really loved those old Goldfish commercials with the storylines

Jack Howl

Anything from the Razor brand

I'm talking scooters and bicycles

ESPECIALLY THE FLASHRIDER 360.

GIRL

THOSE WERE SO FUN

He thought he was the coolest kid on the block riding a tricycle that spun around and shot sparks out of it if you pulled a lever

Outdoors kid for sure

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

Shopkins.

And I'm not talking about just a few.

BROTHER HAD A MONOPOLY.

King of trading Shopkins on the playground

Probably had all the ultra rare sparkly ones

Actually any collectable item was his and posted up in his little black market

LPS, Calico Critters, Pokemon cards, toy erasers...

Probably ran a whole shop, scrutinizing every single item offered to him for trade and drawing up "no take-backs" contracts

Floyd Leech

"Dank Memes" and ASDF movies

Somebody please take YouTube from him

EVERY WORD OUT OF HIS MOUTH IS A QUOTE FROM EITHER

It's like decoding a language that only he knows

Blasts 360 No Scope type shit

Huge fan of dubstep music

Fidget spinners too. Can't take him anywhere without hearing one whirring in his hand

Jade Leech

Chia pets and bug farms

I know chia pets were from like the 80s but they were still big in the 2010s

And as for bug farms he probably bought the ladybug farm and the butterfly farm

Cried when he had to let them go

Probably at some point had the Obama Chia Pet

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim

The Wii.

ADORED Wii Sports and Kirby

Probably hurt himself trying to mimic the Kirby victory dance LMFAO

Also a big Mario fan

Probably forced Jamil to be Luigi while he went as Mario for Halloween

He gives me really big nintendo vibes ngl

A lot of light up sketchers

OH GOD HEELIES

Jamil starts growing grays at the ripe age of seven watching him roll down the halls

Jamil Viper

Just Dance and Cooking Mama

Uses Kalim's Wii to play both

Has gotten perfect scores on every Just Dance level ever

Uses Cooking Mama to get new recipe ideas

Big Smule fan too

Likes their piano game and the singing game

Jamil Viper breaks it down to Ra Ra Rasputin flawlessly

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit

Rainbow Loom and Hot Huez Hair Chalk.

Brags to EVERYONE when he figures out fishtail looms

Has a Rainbow Loom bracelet for every occasion

Uses the hair chalk to color his hair whenever he feels like it

(That's where the purple in his hair comes from LMFAO)

So many chokers.

So many skinny jeans.

Also a massive Movie Star Planet player

Rook Hunt

Anything nerf

Anywhere he went, nerf darts followed

Definitely had the bow and arrow nerf

Probably kept a nerf super soaker in reserve for hotter months

SCARY good at aiming them too. Never missed a shot

Probably has crates of nerf darts "just in case"

ITS NERF OR NOTHING

Epel Felmier

Big fan of Diary of a Wimpy Kid

HATES Manny and gets secondhand embarrassment from Susan Heffley

His favorite is probably either Rodrick Rules or The Last Straw

Someone once convinced him that the Cheese Touch was real and he was never the same

Doesn't know if he hates Rodrick or wants to be like him

Relates to Greg (just not on the, yk, being a horrible person front)

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

Club Penguin, Wizard 101, and Poptropica. Possibly Habbo Hotel too tbh

Hacked his version of Pokemon Go so that he didn't actually have to leave his house

Gaming Legend tbh

Probably ranked in the top ten on every server he got on

Had a million puffles and was a black belt in the Club Penguin martial arts minigames

Had a secret tumblr account at the PEAK of fandom culture and got really popular off it

Probably makes sad AMVs to like My Little Pony or something

Ortho Shroud

Slime.

Slime FIEND.

Unironically searched up "how to make slime no glue no borax"

His favorite is crunchy slime

But fluffy slime is a close second

Also I think he was a big fan of Kidz Bop

Had an earth shattering revelation when he first listened to the ACTUAL songs that Kidz Bop covered

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia

Talking Tom/Pou/Clumsy Ninja type games

"Lilia the little creature mocks me."

Cares for each and every one of them like they're his actual children

Probably has a spreadsheet of care times

Feels guilty whenever he taps on the screen and accidentally triggers the "You just smacked your virtual cat in the face" animation

Lilia Vanrouge

A mix of 2010s mom and internet culture

On one hand he LOVES to play Candy Crush

You look over at him and he's locked in on level 190282938

On the other his entire playlist is nightcore

Also I think he'd be way into Nyan Cat

Has a DeviantArt account (take that as you will)

Silver Vanrouge

Pillow Pets.

PILLOW PETS.

Idk if they sell them anymore but he definitely has a pillow pets blanket

His favorite Pillow Pet is a sheep

I also see him really liking Beanie Babies

He has a collection

Sebek Zigvolt

Ninjago, Bionicles, and Beyblades

Idolized Kai from Ninjago for sure

Had too many Bionicles to count

Pretended he was a Bionicle on the playground and has most definitely attempted Spinjitsu

Challenges EVERYONE to Beyblade battles.

You can't escape.

Carries his best Beyblades with him just in case

BEYBLADE BEYBLADE LET IT RIP

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theficplug · 5 months ago

Text

Actors on Actors, Michael B. Jordan

Michael B. Jordan x Black Reader

Minors DNI

Michael and Reader are exes and actors who are always caught up in an invisible string. This time the string leads them to interview each other for their own Actors on Actors episode.

[ Go easy on me! This is the first time I've posted in years. Happy New Years everybody x ]

The studio lights are blinding.

You’ve been through a million and one press junkets and interviews but this time, the air feels thick. Every corner of the room buzzes with an unfamiliar electricity that makes the hairs on your neck stand up. The set is pristine, designed to look like a cozy living room—two chairs, warm lighting, a small coffee table between them—but the last thing you can focus on is the camera.

Because he’s here. Michael. Sitting just across from you.

You can't believe it. Of all the people they could’ve paired you with for this episode of Actors on Actors, they had to pair you with him. Your ex.

The same ex who once held your heart in his hands, and, with a few words, shattered it into pieces you’ve been picking up ever since. The same ex who, when you look at him now, is still so achingly familiar—like he never left. His smile. That same mischievous glint in his eyes. His laugh, low and rich, the way it used to rumble through you and make your heart stutter. Everything about him makes it impossible to breathe without feeling that pull again, the one that you worked so hard to forget.

Parts of your brain know that it would’ve been easier if the relationship had ended in a screaming match or some sort of cheating scandal, but you know that it just wasn’t true.

“We’re not the same people we used to be, and I can’t keep pretending we are. I think it’s time we let go before we lose ourselves completely.”

“Do you think that we’ve outgrown each other?”

The answer in the silence between the two of you was all the confirmation that you needed.

You two were the definition of the right time , wrong person, and now you have to sit there and pretend that you didn’t plan your entire futures together at 16 years old.

Of course the planning happened during a game of M-A-S-H while you were waiting in the dressing rooms on the set of The Wire. And at the time you would’ve rather been Prodigy from Mindless Behavior or Zayn as your final choice, but 2 kids and a little blue house with him didn’t sound so bad.

It still doesn’t…

But you’re both here, now, for the cameras.

You can put your professional face forward and sit for a conversation with him for the next 30 minutes. It’s not like you hadn’t seen him since the breakup. You are in the same circle and you are both mostly drawn to the same projects so the two of you constantly being around each other was inevitable.

The crew gets into position, their voices soft but urgent as they check angles, make sure the lighting is right. You know the script for this—questions about your latest roles, how you’re navigating your careers, the “game of acting.” A simple conversation. But it’s never simple with him.

You put on your game face and saunter onto the set with a calm powerful stride.

“We are two people that need no introduction. Hello Michael.” you say to the camera while holding your hand out and he looks at your hand for a moment as if you had just handed him a speeding ticket.

You laugh softly at his expression and decide to not give him too much of a hard time.“I’m just playing. Hey Mike.” you try again, and his small pout dissolves into a soft warm smile that takes over his entire face.

“Hey, baby girl.”

He pulls you in gently by your hand into a hug. A warm embrace that lasted a minute, but felt like an eternity.

The last time you were pressed this close to his chest was months ago while your legs were clasped around his waist– holding on for dear life as he stretched you out after the Oscars after party.

The comforting hand that was massaging your back was the same as the one that held you closer while his hips rocked slowly into you.

Your hearts were beating so loudly against one another as if they were trying to declare your love because neither of you dared to speak the words.

“I miss you.”

“I know.”

“Look at me… Please?” He pleaded again, this time moving your braids out of your face.

You let out a sigh and turn your head away, letting his lips land on the side of your face and neck instead. “I can’t.” you reply quietly

“I know.”

“Come on, baby girl.” Was all that it took for you to roll him onto his back and slide your champagne colored gown up higher and off of your body.

You can hear him take a sharp inhale while his hands up and down your body as if he’s remembering and studying all at once.

His fingertips danced over your soft brown skin that felt hot to the touch. His eyes finally met yours as you took him into your hand once again and guided him into you without haste. You teased him slowly the way that he liked while your other hand held his jaw in place.

He opened his mouth slowly to take your fingers into his mouth between his parted lips as you sunk down onto the tip and let out a breath while preparing to take the rest.

Michael’s eyes flutter closed when you cupped him lower and you tsk before shaking your head.

“Look at me. You wanted me to look at you. I am right here. You close your eyes again and I'm leaving. And you’re not allowed to cum until I say. Do you understand?” You question, trying to sound brave because if you had stayed in the previous position you don’t know how you would’ve kept your composure.

“You say that because you don’t know how good you fuckin- feel” Michael added and nodded hesitantly-

Michael glances at you, his eyes catching yours for the briefest second before he looks away, focusing on the monitor instead. That moment feels like a confession. He always knew how to make you feel like you were the only person in the room. Even now, even after everything.

“You ready?” His voice is low, careful, and it makes your stomach flip. You swallow hard, nodding once, trying to push down the surge of emotions that threatens to consume you.

“Yeah. Ready.”

The cameras roll, the noise in the room quiets, and suddenly, it’s just the two of you. Alone in front of an audience you can’t see, surrounded by a pressure neither of you has fully prepared for.

Michael leans forward, his usual charm in place, but the tension in the air is palpable. You can feel his gaze on you, warm but intense, like he's trying to figure out just how much you’ve changed since the last time you saw each other.

“So,” he begins, his voice smooth, “you’ve been getting a lot of praise for your latest role. How does it feel to be the one everyone’s talking about?”

It’s a simple question. But it isn’t. Not when the words hang between you like a fragile thread that could snap at any moment. You know him. You can feel the way he’s looking at you. The way his eyes soften when they meet yours. The way his lips press into a thin line as if he’s waiting for something.

You answer, but your mind is elsewhere—floating between memories of late-night talks, whispered confessions, and the sting of a love that was never quite enough to keep you together. Your gaze flits to him briefly.

The moment stretches longer than it should.

This was a mistake.

But you don’t say it. You can’t.

“Well, I am in awe that when they wrote this character that Jordan Peele had me in mind. Like, of all people. He had seen my work and said yes I need this bumbling awkward nerdy black girl to be my leading lady. You know how much I love Jordan Peele. How many nights have we had in depth discussions for hours about Nope and Get Out and Us. And the script was just brilliant. I can’t say much about it yet, but you know how ecstatic I was when I found out that I got this role 2 years ago. I called you 5 minutes later after I called my mom and I just sobbed. Getting to star in a movie alongside Viola Davis is just any actor’s dream and it’s just purely insane. She’s the sweetest, most gorgeous hardworking person in the room. And she taught me how to let those tears flow without being embarrassed. You owe it to the character to tell their story. It will not always be pretty.” You yap on and Michael is just staring at you with those stars in his eyes like he’s trying so hard to pay attention to all that you’re saying but with the way that he’s eyeing you it feels like he’s searching for something.

“You have an eyelash.” He lies quietly and grasps at nothing on your cheek while letting his fingertips graze your cheekbone momentarily.

It takes you back to the night of the after party once again.

You’ve now braced your hands against his chest with one knee down on the bed so that you can gain the perfect angle to bounce for longer.

The new angle allowed him to feel everything at once and his hands gripped your hips, his mouth opened to let out a broken whimper-– just above a whisper.

Your hands trailed from his chest to his throat before your grip tightened around it.

The feeling of being sheathed inside of you like a warm embrace was too much with the way you brought yourself back down onto him with smooth rolls of your hips and bouncing.

He thought that he was going to lose mind before you fell forward to let him impale you on it and pick up where he left off.

It was your turn to whine softly against his neck while you licked a strip up his neck up to his earlobe , suckling it softly.

“Right there? Right there! Right. There.” He teased as he mocked your words. He locked one hand on the back of your head and the other around your waist to seal you in place before thrusting harder into the most perfect soft ribbony spot with precision.

You turn your brain off to how “wrong” it was to be back in your hotel room, using the man who was once the love of your life like a pogo stick.

A long drawn out “fuck” leaves his mouth and you know that he’s close. You lean back and allow him to sit up while you ride him again. He rests his forehead on your shoulder– placing the softest butterfly kisses.

The switch from him doing all the work below to Lotus position felt like it was nearly too much and somehow not close enough.

You stare into each other’s eyes while chasing that feeling together, in sync and in ebbs and flows of what felt the best to you both.

“Fuck, I love you, and I can’t help that.” he admits quietly. His hands come up to cup your breasts, softly grazing the hardened brown buds.

Your body froze in place. You searched his face for all signs of uncertainty and euphoric accidental confessions, but sighed a sigh of relief when you couldn’t find a hint of doubt.

“Is that not enough?” you question.

You both didn’t have the answer to that question so you opted to lean in to kiss him and suckle his tongue instead.

The moment your thighs began to tremble against him he knew that you were close.

“My God.Michael, fuck.” you whine and try to match his rhythm but finding yourself cradling his head against your breasts and trying to prepare for that coil to snap in the pit of your stomach.

“Doing so good for me. Good job, mama. Good fucking job.You feel so fuckin’ good. Ma fu-” He praised and hissed as he felt your nails rake down his back,

“Harder… You’re gonna make me cum-”He whispered and you could feel him twitching and throbbing inside of you.

“I can’t. I can’t-” You whine again , feeling overwhelmed by the feeling of being so close to where you want to be.

“Yes, you can. Use your words. If you wanna cum , you gonna have to use your words.”

“Please?”

“Please? Please? Please, what baby? I don’t understand that.” He mocks you to the very end but you know with the way that he’s now gripping your cheeks and dropping you down onto him , that he’s just as close as you are.

“Please make me cum.”

“I know. I know. I know.” he coos.

“ Get my fingers wet for me, baby, I’m going to get you there. You feel so good. Gonna make you feel so good.” He leaned you back gently, his hands sliding down from your breasts up to your mouth.

You wasted no time making a show of getting his fingers nice and sopping wet. You sucked on them while he gripped the back of your head and made you take them deeper. Any other time your skin would’ve felt like it was burning with the way that this gaze was set upon you , taking you all in.

He rubbed the back of your head with a satisfied hum and with one soft kiss to your temple he got to work–making you feel the best that you had in the 4 months since the breakup.

With his fingers between your legs , rubbing gently at your sensitive little bud and him now thrusting up into you and a tempo that was different than before you knew that you wouldn’t last long.

A combination of your grip and the sting of your long sparkly nails were the last thing he needed to send him over the edge with you.

He smacked your thigh softly just in time for you to lean back a little in his lap and let him coat your stomach right next to the little ‘m’ inside of a heart tattoo.

As you moan into each other’s mouths you begin to overstim each other.

He laid you back, still grinding softly against you and with you twitching in his arms.

Even after all that had just taken place, the softest kiss that he placed against your lips almost felt forbidden.

He leaned down to rest his forehead against yours while you both caught your breath. Neither of you wanted to burst the bubble of fantasy so instead you did what you both do best and silently comfort each other.

You wipe the sweat from his face and he leans over to grab tissue from the hotel room nightstand to clean you up.

‘You okay? ” He asked softly knowing that neither of you had the energy or words to have the actual conversation that needed to be had but you both agreed that for the sake of growth and moving on that this would be the last time.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” He confirms while running his hands over your back to ground you.

He opens the bottle of water on the nightstand and holds it up to your lips before taking a few sips himself.

By morning you could feel his fingertips grazing your cheek while he’s saying his goodbyes.

It was as if he was reading your mind. The audacity of this man to smirk at you as if he knows that the last time you had the best orgasm of your life was 2 years ago and again 5 months ago while feasting upon you like you were the last meal he’d ever have.

You had been broken up for over 2 years at that point and you both blamed it on the delirium from the lack of sleep caused by late call times and reshoots.

You cough down your Earl Grey tea and return a look of your own. “Thank you” you say firmly and he continues the discussion.

“I remember that. When you called me I was already on my way home with flowers cause it was Monday - and if y’all didn’t know, brief sidenote. I feel like Mondays are hard enough. Everyone deserves flowers to start their week off right. So, yeah, you called and I also ended up bringing home a little ‘Congratulations, my future Oscar winner’ cake. And now a year later you’re about to share that movie with the world. I’m so proud of you. I know how hard you worked. And that’s the thing about both of us. Neither one of us ever really wanted to be actors growing up. It just kind of fell into our lap as a part of our path and it’s something that we fell in love with. I have always loved your work ethic and your style of acting. You know that I tell you that on and off camera. The way that you can make any character feel so–human. That’s something that I really admired about you. She was this professional little thing that walked on the set of The Wire like she had been working in the industry for 20 years. She used to scold me so much too. I heard “be professional , Michael” more from her than I did the director.” He says laughing and you kick him playing with your heel.

“You were a menace! I thought that we were gonna get kicked off of set with your prank wars! Our scenes were already 60 seconds” you say laughing as he grabs your foot,

“Heeyy! I was just trying to get your attention. I didn’t learn to love acting until I watched your scenes and wanted to work harder and fall in love with the craft. But, my first thoughts were the curly haired brown skinned girl that I got to see every day. You know, I wasn’t BIG MIKE back then. I had straight backs and 4xl Big and Tall shirts.It was rough. But Wallace taught me a lot. It was one of the first roles where I got to put on different shoes and hats and walk through someone else’s life” He says, laughing at himself at first.

“Please edit a photo of that right here, thank you. Because why did the wardrobe department have him dressed like Master P, every episode. ” You chime in while laughing at him.

He pushed your heel playfully with his loafer and it made you both burst out in laughter again.

“It’s okay because they dressed me like Reba McIntyre. They really said a single mom who works too hard and loves her kids… It was… something.” You joke before getting back to the main topic.

“Yeah, a lot of people don’t know that he and I have known each other for forever and I can address the elephant in the room. Just because we're not together anymore doesn't mean that we aren't still fans of each other and the craft and we work well together. I literally cried when his character Wallace died. They didn’t tell me so that my reaction could be more authentic. I hated it and wanted no parts of it, but it taught me how to embrace feeling and emotion and let it flow as it needs to. In order to breathe life into the character. I cried again while watching him in Black Panther for the first time. It still gets to me to see him hurt or in pain or just–” You try to continue the conversation but didn’t expect to get choked up on the idea of how much you care for his well being,

Michael instantly leans in with a tissue from the table next to your mugs to wipe away your tears and you quietly wave him off with a small shake of your head before taking a moment to gather your thoughts,

You watch as the corner of his mouth turns down for a second and there's something etched across his face like he wants to comfort you but he's not sure if that's his place now.

The frown on his face is replaced with a knowing look when he realizes that you’re still in front of a whole crew and cameras.

He settles for placing his hand on your knee and running his thumb over it to calm your nerves and soothe you.

It was something he’d always do to calm you before anything important while your leg jigged and shaked from the anxiousness.

You give him a soft smile and nod before continuing the conversation.

“ I think it was a combination of how hard he worked to make Erik feel human and how far he’d come in general. I also felt like Wallace in a way led to you bringing Killmonger to life. Erik really did feel like that guy from your neighborhood that you watched get dealt the shittiest hand of cards in life and he had to learn to play the game with those cards while going after the people who dealt them in the first place. Shout out to Ryan Coogler. Those were my favorite movies to work on. Lupita, Letitia, Angela, CHAD. Everyone worked for hours to create what you saw on the screen. You could just feel how important and special this film was going to be for a long time. My heart. My heart is forever left in Wakanda, honestly. I literally cried watching all of his films to be honest. Put on any of the Creed films and you will find me bawling by the end. He and Tessa were like magic together. And yes I saw all of the tweets and articles, thanks TMZ. But, no really, can I just also clarify that Tessa and I are besties. I literally had to silence my phone before this because she will be sending some sort of meme. People love a good fake story.We needed a good laugh.” You tease while mouthing “fuck you guys” to the camera.

You can hear the staff chuckling and you turn to see Michael immersed in what you’re saying. His eyes only leave your face to take a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, Tessa’s the homie. We were celebrating our anniversary in Cabo when we read those articles too. People just say anything and it’s taken as the truth. . . I think you’re right too. That’s exactly the way that I think of both roles. Really I approach all roles that way. Where’s the humanity in this? And if I can’t find it. Then I wonder when it was turned off. How did the character lose it ? Then from there I just dive in. . . Switch with me?” He asks after making a face at how sweet the coffee is.

He takes a swig of your Earl Grey and takes a moment to collect his thoughts.

“Oh, I could’ve told them that you wouldn’t like this. It's very sweet but very nice, thank you.” You say in the direction of the staff.

“Oof. You have. You have my red lipstick on you from my mug.”

You’re already swiping at his lips without a second thought. It didn’t dawn on you how awkward things might appear until you meet his gaze and he’s grabbing another tissue from the table and swiping at his own lips.

“Did I get it?” He asks licking his lips slowly and you wanted to smack the grin off his face at that moment.

“Yup. YUP. Got it. Perfect, good job.” You reply cheekily before looking out at the crew and staff.

“Also, Did you know that he was my first on-screen kiss? My first on-screen everything..." You segue into the next conversation about your newly released romcom.

The cheeky grin that he was once wearing is now replaced with a look of nostalgia induced sorrow.

“Yeah yeah. It was all teeth and upper lip. I didn’t know what was going on. I just knew that they said hey keep it cute. Simple. A peck. I still wasn’t at the BIG MIKE stage. This was the Chronicle era and I know y’all didn’t watch that one, but that’s alright —you’re still my people. It was for some throwaway party scene. It didn’t end up making the final cut but the butterflies that I felt that day was all that I remember. I was so nervous I kept getting the lines wrong. Anyways, Steve ended up getting smashed into the ground the next day and that was that, but I didn’t even care. I was on cloud 9. We had our first date the next weekend after that.” He reveals and you smiled fondly back at him at the thought.

“You never told me that you were nervous. I was so nervous that day. I think I ate about 20 Altoids and then I couldn’t even feel my tongue for 5 minutes.”

He chuckles to himself at the thought of the memory.

“You were definitely my celebrity crush. So, for me it was and still is a special moment in my career… And now I know why your breath was so minty.” He jokes but you don’t miss the way that he rubbed over the tiny print of your initials on the inside of his wrist.

“Also, can I just add. Can you please stop dying on screen! You’ve got about 4 or more characters that just get off-ed brutally. I was so over the moon when I found out that you would be the male lead opposite of me in this thriller romcom, Try Again. I know how much you give to these characters and how much you want to do their stories justice but I love when you laugh. It’s still my favorite sound. Working with you on this new romcom was difficult because we did all of our own stunts, but I loved it because it felt like we were 16 again. I haven’t heard you laugh or seen you smile that much in years. So many heavy characters took so much of your light in order to bring them to life. In this A24 movie we play a couple who’s thinking about getting divorce and are in the process of separation. However, we end up needing each other to get through a situation because it isn’t as it seems! So stay tuned for that.” You continue, pointing towards the camera.

He leans back in his chair, looking at you with a softness in his eyes, a little more vulnerable than he usually lets on in interviews. There's a long pause, like he's choosing his words carefully, trying to balance what he's feeling with the professional facade.

"Man, I—" He laughs softly, running a hand through his hair, as if gathering the courage to say exactly what’s on his mind. His voice lowers, sincere. "You’ve always had a way of seeing right through me, haven’t you?"

Michael’s eyes meet yours, the years between you two suddenly feeling smaller, as if the old connection is still there, just buried under time. "It’s... It’s not just the characters, you know. Those stories, they take so much, but they also give me a way to feel things I didn't know I needed to. But hearing you say that… hearing you say that you miss my laugh… it hits different now."

He exhales slowly, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I don't think I realized how much of myself I left behind, chasing all those roles. But you always knew how to make me feel like me again. Even on the hardest days, there was something about your energy that could pull me back."

A pause, and he glances away for a moment, almost like he's fighting to keep his composure. Then he looks at you again, softer than before. "I missed you, more than I would have liked to admit. The real me. Not the guy I play on screen, but the one who can sit next to you and just laugh about nothing at all."

He clears his throat, trying to make it sound light again. "So yeah, you’re right. You were 16 again, and I was with you, laughing like nothing ever changed. Layla and Quinten are a lot like us in a way. They fell in love very fast and early on in life and they had seen it all and done it all. And then one day life is pulling them in two different directions. And onto a path when they’ve never really had to travel alone before. There’s love always, but there’s also self discovery that needs to happen. But there is always, always love, respect, and care.”

There's a tenderness in his gaze that lingers for just a second longer than expected, before he finally gives you that familiar, playful smile. "So yeah. Try Again is coming out a few months before Sinners, stay tuned!" He finishes off, trying to keep a level of professionalism and privacy.

The words he says hit harder than expected, each one a tender reminder of what you once shared, what you’ve both lost, and what could still be there, even in the quiet spaces between the two of you.

After blinking back the tears a few times, almost as if you’re trying to keep the vulnerability at bay, but the sincerity in his voice has already cracked something wide open.

For a moment, it’s quiet. Your gaze softened but the way that your heart thudded against your chest made this feel way too real. You felt caught between the walls that you built and the person sitting across from her, the one that still knows you better than anyone else. You take a breath and turn slightly toward him, leaning in just enough to let him know you’re hearing him, really hearing him.

"You always did know how to make me feel like I was the only person in the room, even when we were surrounded by a hundred people." You smile, but it’s a little sad, a little too knowing. "I think that's why it was so easy to fall in love with you in the first place. You never treated me like I was just another face in the crowd. You saw me. And I... I didn’t always know how to be honest with you, even when I should’ve been. But maybe, I’ve learned a little more now. And I think that’s the thing that made me connect with Layla in the first place. She’s accomplished and driven and sometimes a little controlling but that’s only because she wanted the best for him. Quinten is kind, loving and friendly. I think sometimes to a fault because in the career that he’s in people will see that as an open invitation to be as sneaky and shitty as they can be. Even if it’s done quietly and he doesn’t really see it. We get to see their growth and communication throughout the film. And there’s aliens! So really stay tuned! "

His eyes linger on his, soft and steady, before Michael responds . "I think you're right. Maybe it’s not about going back to what they were. It’s about... accepting where they are now.I could talk so much about this and the process of bringing a script to life as an actor. But, we only have about 30 minutes for the discussion and they’re already signaling for us to wrap it up! We’re both yappers so we didn’t even get into half the things that we wanted to talk about. Round 2 on your podcast, Table Read? ”

He asks plugging your show at the end, but you both knew that it was just another reason for him to see you and spend more time with you.

You let out a soft breath, eyes flicking down for a moment, then back up to meet his. “I’d like that, actually. There’s so many more things I'd love to get into with you and I’m sure they’d love to see it.”

“Thank you so much for being here with us today and I’m truly sorry that all we did was yap the time away but look forward to Sinners with this large headed man and the incredible Lily Rose Depp. You can also look forward to our movie Try Again. Once again, thank you for having us.”

Once you wrap everything up and the director yells cut , Michael scoops you into a hug without much thought.

“You smell good.” He says quietly and you just give into it, resting your head on his shoulder.

As the cameras stop rolling and the director yells "cut," the room suddenly feels quieter, as if the world outside their conversation has been temporarily suspended. There’s a weight in the air, and for a second, you wonder if the moment has already passed—if you should just let it fade with the lights and the final words of the interview. But then Michael's arms are around you, pulling you into a hug without hesitation, like he’s waited for this exact moment.

"You smell good." he repeats, voice low and warm against the side of your neck.

The “reminds me of home” part swirling around his brain is silenced and you both settle into the hug.

For a moment, you don’t say anything. You just lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder, the familiarity of his embrace wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. The hug is long, comfortable, almost as if time has folded back to the years before everything shifted. Before the distance, the separation, the silence.

You breathe in his scent—something that’s distinctly him—and it hits you with the sudden realization of how much you missed this. How much you missed him.

"I didn’t know I missed this... until now," you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper, vulnerable in the way only old friends or lovers can be.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his face close but not too close. There’s something in his gaze, a mixture of longing and something more, something unspoken that lingers in the air between you. The laughter, the warmth, the smiles—they’re all still there. He hasn’t changed, not entirely. Neither have you.

"Yeah, I think we both didn’t realize how much we needed this," he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his hand lingering a moment longer than necessary. "But we can’t go back to where we were, can we?"

You meet his eyes, feeling the weight of those words, but there’s no sadness in them. Not really. It’s just the truth. You’ve both moved forward, but this moment, the connection between you, doesn’t need to be erased. It just needs to evolve.

“I don’t think it’s about going back," you reply slowly, voice steady. "I think it's just about... acknowledging it. Acknowledging that we’re here now, even if it’s different. But, different isn’t always a bad thing.”

Michael nods, the sadness in his eyes matching the quiet acknowledgment in your words. "Different can be a good thing."

For a moment, neither of you speak. The room around you feels like it’s frozen in time. The noise from the crew, the laughter from the makeup artists—it all feels so distant now, like they’re characters in their own story, while you and Michael are the ones still figuring out what comes next. There’s a kind of peace in that.

You finally pull away from him, offering a small, sincere smile. “I’m really glad we got to do this. It’s been... a long time.”

“It has,” he agrees, his voice soft. Then, with a playful grin, he adds, “Maybe we should stop making it so long next time?”

You laugh, and for the first time in ages, it feels effortless. You can almost hear the echo of that laughter from when you were both 16, the sound of two people who hadn’t yet learned how to let go of each other.

“I think I could manage that,” you tease back.

And just like that, the walls that had been built over the years seem to crumble, at least for a moment. The past isn’t gone, but it doesn’t feel as heavy anymore. It feels... shared. Real.

As you both make your way off set, you turn to him one last time. “Are you going to the Golden Globes lunch thing?”

He gives you one of those familiar, knowing smiles. “For sure. It’s on my schedule. You?”

“Yes.. It’s on mine too… See you there?”

“See you there-”

And with that, the chapter ends. Not with an answer, not with certainty, but with the soft, unspoken promise of maybe more. Maybe one day. But for now, you both step into separate futures, carrying pieces of each other with you—unspoken, untouched, and yet undeniably there.

@yaachtynoboat711 @fairyskiiess

#fanfic for black girls #michael b jordan #erik killmonger #mbj #wriiting #fic

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irishmammonagenda · 1 year ago

Text

Boop!- Obey Me x Reader

Summary: You go on a mission to boop, as per usual chaos ensues. Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Female Reader (implied), i dont really think there's anything else but if you can see something lmk and i'll add a warning

very obviously inspired by tumblr's boop event

dividers by @saradika-graphics

"Hello Michael!" You greet, signature foxy grin on your face. Michael looks up from where he's playing Connect Four with a man in robes and waves at you.

"Hiya MC!" He puts the palms of his hands on the soft cloud ground and leans back on them, he's bare chested in the heat, though he's adorned himself with waist beads and arm bands, firm muscles on display. His long curly blond hair is in intricate braids, small ornaments threaded through it. He grins up at you, bright red eyes shining under the light of the Celestial sun. "What's brought ya up to the Celestial Realm today?"

"I am evil. I am very evil Michael." You say seriously.

The other man laughs, though not unkindly. His tanned skin shimmers ethereally under the light, dark brown eyes stare up at you, rich like soil after the morning due. Dark waves and soft curls frame his face, some soft stubble one his jawline, barely noticeable. "I'm sure you're not evil." He says kindly.

You stare at him, before smiling as well, touched. "Aww thanks! And you are?"

The man smiles, reaching his hand up, Michael takes that time to sneakily move one of the coins the man had put down a slot over. "I'm Jesus, it's nice to meet you MC."

You cough. "You're Jesus?"

"Yes." He nods, "A lot of people are shocked when they first meet me...something about expecting me to look like Da Vinci's gay lover."

You nod, dumbfounded.

Michael, sensing your inner turmoil, and also needing to keep Jesus' attention elsewhere so he could continue cheating- winning creatively in Connect 4, clears his throat, "So what's brought you to the Celestial Realm and made you claim that you're evil?"

This makes you grin, "Well, my dearest Michael....have you heard of boops?"

Michael straightens up a little bit, Jesus watches him intently, before fixing the board to its original state whilst the Archangel is distracted.

"No I have not...Why, what are they?" Michael asks, signature mischievous grin on his face. "They sound fun."

"Well I'm glad you asked Michael!" You grin, before leaning in and whispering into his ear. The added proximity made you realise he smelt of pine cone and fresh rain.

Michael giggles evilly, turning over to Jesus, before reaching a dark, jewel adorned hand and booping his nose. "Boop!"

Jesus just smiles, Crucifixion was worse. "It's your go, Michael."

"Oh of course! MC wait for this game to be over! I have...uh..business to attend to in the Devildom!"

You and Jesus share a look.

Michael looks over at you two, "You coming Jesus?"

The man smiles gently, "No thanks, I'm still traumatised from that one time when Satan tormented me in the desert."

"Oh okay...." Michael deflates the tiniest smidge before looking back at the board, spluttering. "Hey you moved the pieces!"

Jesus snorts, "Yeah, I moved the pieces back from where you tried to cheat."

"Lying's a sin." Michael huffs.

Jesus laughs, "Was that an admition of guilt?"

Michael falls onto his back dramatically, dark skin shining in the Celestial Realm's blessed light. "Ugh! Woe is me! This is worse than the time that one Irish kid got me confused with Michael Collins!"

Jesus pats his shoulder in pity. "Easter's a hard time for all of us."

Michael blinks at the scars on Jesus' palms from the nails and bites back a very bad Cross joke. "You could say that again."

After the game of Connect 4 ended, (Michael lost) you and the Archangel said your goodbyes to Jesus and began your journey down to the Devildom. Michael walks beside you, a good bit taller than you. Michael having swapped out his less than covering attire for a flowy white flare sleeved top that you'd imagine a pirate or a Victorian would wear, the lace buttons are undone for the most part, as per usual. You'd come to learn that the Archangel hated top buttons with a burning passion.

"I call Lucikins." Michael says with about as much seriousness as a 10 year old calling shotgun on the front seat of the car. So very serious.

"Fine. I call Mammon." You reply, looking up at him, as if daring him to try and boop your first man before you could. He pouts, but relents.

"I call Satan then." Michael blinks back at you with crimson eyes.

"No why?" You sulk.

Michael shrugs. "He's my nephew. I get to boop his nose it's the law."

"No it's not."

"Yeah it is!"

"Prove it then." You huff.

Michael turns around and you hear fidgeting before he hands you a paper napkin with writing on it. You notice the fountain pen he sneakily snuck back into his trouser pocket and glare at him, before reading the napkin.

The Eleventh Commandment: Thou shall let Michael boop his nephew's nose.

You hum, "Something's telling me this is fake."

Michael gasps incredulously, as if offended by the very notion, he places a hand over his breast, where his heart is. "How dareth thou! Truly, 'tis a crime against nature to speak such filth about the Holy Word. A crime against God I daresay!"

"Okayy...drama king."

Michael gasps again. "Alas! Thou speaketh such filth! Such blasphemy to thee! Thy words...such horrors! Cursed are thou amongst humankind!"

You deadpan. "I'm taking away your Shakespeare rights."

"Try it I dare you." Michael challenges, red eyes gleaming with something predatory. "You can boop Simeon."

You grin. "Yay!"

"I call Luke."

Your grin drops. "What the frickety flip that's my son."

Michael's brows furrow. "He's my son too what the flip."

You gasp, bringing your hands to your mouth. "Did we?..."

Michael's eyes widen, he pulls his top up and counts his ribs, losing count several times because you keep adding random numbers in. He looks up at you.

"Did we have a child out of Wedlock?!"

You and Michael look at each other in object horror. Both conveniently ignoring the fact that Luke technically came into existence millennias before you.

"I think we did...." You place your hand over your brow like a Victorian woman seeing the ankles of her secret lesbian lover for the first time.

Michael follows suit.

"Michael....I fear we might be sinners...."

"Well you know what they say in the human world MC...." Michael sniffles, looking away from you dramatically. "Sinner sinner chicken dinner...."

You pause, breaking character. "Is it not Winner winner chicken dinner?"

Michael shrugs. "Not like I care."

You parrot his movement, shrugging your shoulders back as well, before the horror creeps back onto your expression. "But...Simeon and Barbatos also see Luke as their son...."

Michael looks at you wide eyed, grabbing you by the shoulders, "MC! We have to count their ribs!"

You put your head in your hands, "Two angels, a demon and a human with angel blood that's somehow an angel....our son is a hybrid!"

Michael gasps. "Hybrid princess?"

You do a double take. "Why do you know what gacha is." You breath out, looking at Michael in genuine fear.

"I wasn't a gacha kid don't worry! Levi was though! He'd show me his little Gacha stories that he made...." Michael looks nostalgic. "Such an adorable little weirdo....he gets it from Lucifer y'know."

"If I described Lucifer as an adorable little weirdo I think he'd skin me alive."

"That sounds like a you problem." Michael grins.

You and Michael continue your journey down to the Devildom, only this time he's giving you a piggy back ride because you annoyed him until he agreed. Strong hands hold your thighs to keep you from falling, as your arms are wrapped around his neck.

You had been 'calling' people to boop.

"I call Diavolo."

"Deal." Michael nods, trying and failing to twist his head around to face you because you're on his back and he's not an owl. "I don't want to accidentally start another Celestial War by booping the Prince and acting King of the Devildom's nose."

"That's surprisingly a good reason."

"Fuck you mean surprisingly?" Michael scoffs, though there's no real bite to it. "I'm always having good reasons."

"Yeah and I'm the spawn of Satan." You say sarcastically, human world side winning over for a second, until you remember that Satan is in fact a real person and that you are in fact now in the Devildom.

Michael laughs, "You know who Satan's the spawn of? Lucifer."

"Don't let him hear you say that."

"What's he gonna do? Bully me while I'm in a desert? Jokes on him, I hate sand and don't go anywhere near it."

"I don't feel safe anymore, we're gonna get jumped."

Michael laughs.

"I call Levi, I need to return an anime to him anyway." Michael breaks the silence.

"You borrow animes from Levi?"

"Yeah sometimes, me and Saint Peter watch animes at the gates of Heaven when it's a slow day and not a lot of souls are being guided into it."

"Nah imagine dying and waking up in heaven to see the people at the gates watching anime."

Michael sticks out his tongue, though stops when he remembers you're on his back and can't see it.

"I call Barbatos."

Michael sighs in relief, carrying you through the streets of the Devildom. "Thank God, you can have him. Good luck with that."

"Go fuck yourself Michael. I call Thirteen."

Michael gasps excitedly. "Tell her I say hi!"

"Tell her yourself."

Michael huffs. "You're so mean to me MC."

You bite his neck, really embodying your inner feral street cat. He yelps. "Don't try to steal my wife, next time I'll bite your jugular pretty boy."

Michael laughs, "I am quite pretty..." He flips his hair, the intricate golden braids and curls hit you in the face, seeing as you're still on his back. You let out a sound similar to a feral street cat coughing up a hairball, he laughs again. "Also I'm pretty sure Thirteen is a lesbian."

You perk up. "Oh yay! You should be the priest at our wedding Michael. You don't have a choice."

"Fine." The archangel huffs, his plump lips pouty. "But only if Luke's the flower boy."

"I was gonna make him the ring boy giver person." You reply, playing with one of the ornaments braided into Michael's hair.

"Even better!"

Moments of comfortable silence last before you decide to break it because you're evil and have no moral code whatsoever.

"Michael you can have Solomon."

Said Archangel halts. Dropping you off of his back before turning to look at you, now strewn out on the ground. He puts his hand over his brow like a Victorian man who just saw the ankles of his gay lover. (Probably Solomon: You'd decided.)

"No! How couldeth thou?" He sighs dramatically before it just turns exhasperated. "Those rumours just died down...."

You jump up off of the ground, wiping the soil from your clothes, "They have?! Dammit!"

Michael deadpans at you, pulling at a golden coil of hair and letting it be stretched straight before letting go and watching it bounce back up into a curl again. "I hate you."

"That's harsh."

After having separated from Michael, you sneak into your First Man's room. He sits lazily, lounging on his bed and scrolling mindlessly through his DDD. So enraptured he doesn't even notice your presence just yet until you press your finger to his nose.

"Boop!"

"ARGHH-" he screeches, jumping atleast five feet in the air before realising it was you and scoffing. "Oh...It's you...o-of course ye'd wanna boop the Great Mammon's nose! That'll cost ya!" He huffs, trying to avoid the initial embarassment of you seeing him so uncool!

"Boop!" You boop him again, he grins stupidly like an idiot inlove, before snapping out of it and putting his 'too cool for this' persona back on.

"T-that'll cost ye! MC!" He stutters, trying to cover his blush.

"Oh will it now?" You raise a brow before bringing your lips to his nose and pecking it there, pulling away again in less than a second. "Boop."

He pulls you in for a hug before you can pull away completely. You grin, having reduced the Avatar of Greed to a blushy pile of mush in your arms.

Take that Alpha Male podcasters who think women want dominant mean men who suck and hate them. Everyone knows all women want a Mammon.

You and Michael meet back up again. Michael having a scratch on his leg.

"Satan did not like the fact that I booped him at first...until I gave him an emergency kitten that I put in a cage nearby like 5 minutes before." Michael says, noticing that you noticed the scratch. "He almost bit me! He's definitely Lucikin's son!"

You point and laugh at him. He pouts, before interlocking your arms. "Purgatory hall?"

"Purgatory hall." You nod.

Michael knocks on the door. Luke answers it before gasping like a child on christmas. "Michael! Hi!" He hugs the Archangel who laughs and picks him up.

The blond boy notices you at that point, he smiles brightly. "Oh MC! Hi!"

"Hiya Luke!" You smile at him, booping his nose. "Boop!"

"Michael follows suit. "Boop!"

Luke blinks before grumbling. "I'm not a child..." He then turns his head back towards Michael who's still holding him. "Boop!"

Michael laughs. "Do MC now!" With that he quickly moves closer to you, Luke still in his arms, and the young angel boops your nose too. You all grin, laughing. Luke just ecstatic that Michael was able to visit. And he brought you too!

You end up watching a movie together, all three of you. Simeon comes home halfway through it. Having had to visit a publishers. Michael hides behind the door and when Simeon opens it, the dark skinned angel pops out, booping the poor man. "Boop!"

Simeon blinks at him. Michael smirks lightheartedly "Get booped Loserboy."

Simeon smiles, his gaze turning toward you." MC would you lie any help with your Solomon x Michael fanfiction? I heard from Satan that you two were on hiatus."

Michael groans. "Traitors!"

You laugh. "Get fanficked Loserboy."

Michael grins, putting on faux dramatics. "You both suck I'm going back into Luke! At least he's actually cool."

After a lovely movie with Luke, Simeon and Michael, you run away to a cave because why not?

After entering Thirteen's very lovely abode, and avoiding all of the traps laid out for Solomon, you finally catch a glimpse of her vibrant ombre hair.

"Hiya Tee!" You grin, pouncing on her and pulling her into a hug. The reaper, who's clearly batshit insane doesn't even flinch, she just laughs, hugging you back even tighter.

"MC! To what do I owe the pleasure babes?"

You giggle michieviously before bringing your hand up and, "Boop!"

She grins wider, bloodied emerald eyes staring back at you so lovingly, hints of playful devilry in her expression.

"Oh let me try! Boop!" She says before pulling you in for a kiss that makes your knees feel weak.

When you both pull away to catch a breath, you breathe out breathlessly. "That was a super boop....an evil boop even..." You say, face burning red, you know she feels the red hotness of your cheeks.

She just laughs. Tilting her head, some strands of hair falling into her face. "You want another one?"

You've never nodded quicker in your life.

"How in Diavolo's name did you get in here?" Lucifer asks, looking up from the work on his desk. He quickly closes over the confidential files and paperwork, turning his head to Michael once more. Blood red eyes narrowed at their counterpart's.

Michael approaches the Demon at a speed that could rival Mammon's. In an instant he's beside the raven-haired man. "Awww Lucikins don´t worry about it! Boop!"

Lucifer swallows thickly, and flicks his gaze to Michael. Despite having the glare of a thousand suns on him, Michael continues grinning. "Did you...did you just boop my nose?..." The Avatar of Pride asks in a low voice.

"I'm not too sure if I did..." Michael puts his fingers to his chin in mock thought, before grinning, pointer finger in the air. "I'll have to do it again to make sure!" The Archangel exclaims before booping his younger brother on the nose. "Boop!"

Lucifer growls. "Michael-"

"Yes, Lucikins?"

"Michael I am going to kill you."

The elder only laughed, "Awww classic Lucikins! Still in his teenage angst phase!"

"I did not have a teenage angst phase." Lucifer glares, huffing embarassedly, turning away and picking up his quill in an attempt to turn away from this god awful conversation.

Michael gives him a knowing look. "Don't make me pull out the photos."

His head snaps back to his elder brother. "What photos?"

"The photos of you with the wolf cut, the ones with you and the eyeliner, the ones where you're all dressed up in your little emo costumes..." Michael wipes a tear from his eye. "Oh...you were so adorable! Always threatening to murder me...! Glad to see that my wittle baby brother hasn't changed!" The Archangel exclaims, pinching his younger brother's cheeks and making them squish up, Lucifer felt his face flush with embarrassment. Michael laughed, he looked like a chipmunk!

"...'m no' a 'ittle ba'y bro'er! you'r tw' minu'es ol'er than 'ee!" Lucifer tries to shout, but with Michael pushing his cheeks together, it comes out muffled and distorted.

"All I heard is that you said I'm the best big brother in the three realms and you love me very much!"

Lucifer glares at him. A glare that doesn't hold any weight seeing as Michael is still squishing his cheeks together and he still looks like a chipmunk.

With enough squirming and fighting, Lucifer finally manages to get out of his brother's grip, he rubs his cheeks, staring daggers at the angel. "I would never say that. I'm not your baby brother. I'm not Lucikins. You're two minutes older than me yet two centuries more immature." He says venomously.

Too bad Michael's poison proof.

The Archangel laughs, "You're not my baby brother? Huh? Who's bed did you climb in when you were scared of the thunder back in the Celestial Realm?"

Lucifer bristles, swallowing thickly, "That's irrelevant."

"Sureee." Michael grins, though it's softer around the edges, Lucifer feels it too.

Lightning flashes in the Celestial realm. Long before Mammon had even been born. Thunder roars, a small whimper sounds. Lucifer sits in his bed, covers over his head, gripping a pillow tightly. Barely even a cherub, he takes the slight break in the storm to gather the courage to waddle over to his twin's bed.

"Mikey?" Lucifer whispers in the darkness, gripping onto the poles of the bed with his tiny pale hands. "Mikey...you awake?" He says through gapped teeth, a slight lisp in his voice. The gap between his two front teeth would close with time.

The sheets rustle, a young Michael groans, also barely a cherub his voice is as high pitched and childlike as his brother's. "Luci...go to sleep..." The slightly older cherub says, eyes still closed.

"Can't Mikey...'s too loud.." Lucifer whispers, black hair sticking to his forehead in a slight sheen of sweat. As if to prove his point, thunder roars again, lightning flashes. Lucifer whimpers, gripping the pole tighter.

Michael sits up sleepily, short curly hair tied in the tiniest protective braids possible, some small blond coils escaping their confines at the edges of his head. The older cherub wipes a small, chubby hand over his eyes and yawns before opening his duvet up just enough so that Lucifer could climb in.

"Make sure...go to sleep Lucikins..." Michael whispers tiredly, covering his yawning mouth before abandoning his teddy bear and putting his arm around his little brother instead.

Thunder sounds again. Lucifer stiffens and lets out a small sound. "Mikey...'m scared..." He grips onto his twins matching pajamas tightly with his tiny little hands.

Michael grins sleepily, red eyes staring into his twins same coloured ones. "Don't worry Lucikins! 'm always gonna p'tect you! That's wha' big brothers are for!"

The thunder still sounds, Lucifer still stiffens slightly,but surrounded by the warmth and comfort of his twin, he manages to sleep soundly.

After all the madness and badness. (Devil face emoji) You and Michael meet up in a Devildom café.

"That was productive!" The Archangel grins.

"Indeed it was Michael....indeed it was...." You say, a blissed out look on your face.

Michael arches a brow, "Is that one of Thirteen's leather jackets?"

"Maybe..." You say dreamily, playing with the sleeves.

Michael just laughs at you. "Get it, I guess! Anyway wanna watch Gilmore Girls with me? I need to catch up with Raphael...he's a few episodes ahead of me."

"Of course I do."

Michael brings his hands together in an imitation of a fly on a wall doing the hand thing. "Excellent."

"Do you think Luke's going to grow up to open a coffee shop?"

"Nah, he'd open a bakery."

this is utter bullshit and utter dogshit idek

#obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #omswd #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me michael #obey me thirteen #obey me thirteen x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me jesus #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me fluff #boop

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castlebyersafterdark · 1 month ago

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like period drama movies that turn into actual porn, with all the costumes and setpieces.

Y'all love prince will being served by his knight, but give me canon-accurate poor will byers and miserable rich boy Mike. This has me thinking about mike wheeler as a viscount or duke of some kind in a billowing white silk chemise and brocade waistcoat. expensive af 1700s clothing. knee high black leather boots. breeches tight on his ass. sweeping off a horse, cloak flying. storming through a giant palace with a dark frown on his face. brooding, closed off, emotionally stunted Michael. He gambles, he drinks, he swirls ladies around the dance floor, feeling utterly hollow inside. His family expect him to carry on the family line and marry - his mother has a whole line of women for him to meet at every ball and dinner. He scowls his way through it, but somehow that only makes the young ladies want him more.

And then there's Will, lowly stable boy who has worked at the palace with his groundskeeper family since he was born. He's always known who Mike is - how could he not? They're the same age. Mike was in tiny flouncy coats while Will wore hand-me-down woollen jackets from his brother. His mother is an excellent seamstress, darning their clothes again and again when her duties in the palace are finished. Once, as children, they'd played together, before Mike knew any better than to go poking around behind the stables on one of his adventures. They'd had a little game where they would knock on the doors around the palace and trick the staff into opening them before running away.

Will works in the stable every day, shiring the horses and keeping them pristine, and if anyone looked closely enough, his longing stare could be seen gleaming above his dirty collar when Mike comes in to collect his stallion for an early morning ride. Will allows himself to gaze a little too long as Mike disappears into the morning mist, down the huge gravel path of the estate and out of the distant gates. Mike is so elegant, so refined, such a magnificent rider. Will watches the way his thighs straddle the horse, the way he commands it and controls it.

As Will heaves straw, he curses his vivid imagination that won't stop conjuring images of a lonely morning interrupted by Mike, sweating after his ride, clambering down off his horse, walking closer, letting their hands brush as he gives Will the reins, sweat dripping on his brow, so close that Will can smell the heat coming off him and see the dark intensity in his eyes...

Meanwhile Mike rides hard into the countryside, his burning anger getting the better of him again, pushing the horse to it's limits until his thighs are aching. Throwing himself off when he reaches the river, stripping down to nothing and letting the water flow over his hot skin. The sunlight plays behind his eyelids and he pictures Will, sat on the grassy riverbank, watching him glide naked through the water with dark, steady eyes. Mike's heart races, and he lets his head slip under.

On his way back to the house, he sees a distant carriage. More ladies dressed like easter eggs for him to woo. More balls. More curtseys. More more more, but not what he wants.

In the end, Mike wasn't sure that he'd come, but then he saw the lantern in the stable snuffed out, and turned away from the window with his heart in his throat. He almost closed the curtains, but decided he liked seeing the moon. An image of moonlight on the curves of Will's bare ass came unbidden into his mind, and he squeezed himself in anticipation just as there was a knock on the door. A certain knock, one that no one else would ever know. One from long ago. The familiarity of it struck Mike, and suddenly he needed nothing more than to feel Will's skin beneath his hands.

Will, totally naked after Mike strips his tired woollen clothes off. Squeaking as he is hoisted into the air, wrapping his legs around Mike's waist and gripping on for dear life. Mike, wearing nothing but his silk chemise shirt, throwing him on to the giant four poster bed. The room strewn with their clothes, boots, waistcoat and wool. Mike bending over Will and spreading his legs, his chemise long enough to cover his ass but Will unable take his eyes of the long, hard cock that pokes out from underneath as Mike climbs on top of him. Writhing bodies, sweating in the candlelight as Will moans against the silk pillows, his hands caressing Mike's shirt and trying to tear it off, but it's too late, he's already lost, gone somewhere else, unsure of the sounds he's making or how to stop himself, and Mike is gripping him around the waist so tight that he might snap in two - flipping them suddenly so that Will straddles him, bouncing so hard he almost falls off the bed, grabs one of the bedposts, the other hand tight in mike's hair. Mike making sounds Will has only imagined in his wildest daydreams, soiling the fine bedclothes as he comes hard all over Will, all over the sheets, again and again, touching each other until the sun starts to appear over the distant hills out of the window and Will's eyes droop against Mike's tacky chest, falling into a sound sleep with Mike's large hand gripping his waist, his ass, holding him close and planting sleepy kisses anywhere he can reach.

Soon enough they're meeting up all around the palace, Mike sneaking Will in, Will shy about his dirty boots on the fine carpets, so polite and barely talking, and motormouth Mike with his quick wit and cynicism, utterly disarmed by Will's wide eyes and his careful hesitation, that can be so easily dismantled if Mike touches him in just the right way, or says just the right thing... Mike makes it his mission to have Will in the stable, somewhere private but dangerously exposed, living for the thrill of being found out so that he can be disowned for good and run away, as foolish and selfish as he knows that is.

Wow, this got out of hand. But seriously - this kind of shit is what we need in visual form!

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#Spicy Byler #BLESS YOU FOR THIS I'M CRYING I'M SWOONING I ADORE IT SOOOOOO SO MUCH. PERFECTION. THIS LOFTY ROMANTIC IS LIIIIVING.#😍😍😍

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morganthyper · 1 month ago

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minecraft is my oldest hyperfixation, and be more chill is my newest. let's combine it shall we???

BE MORE CHILL AND MINECRAFT HEADCANONS!!!

rich has been playing minecraft for YEARS since he had it on the xbox. his brother and him used to play a lot with rich on phone and his brother on the xbox usually, but rich stopped playing once his brother moved out just before rich started highschool. he only started playing it again when he found out that jeremy and michael play on their laptops and they use a crossplay server to play (michael and jeremy make fun of him for being on bedrock, rich curses them out affectionately). rich though, loves the hive minigame server

jeremy and michael had the pirated version of minecraft until they bought it with their own money in middle school with matching users and everything (jeremy begged michael to change it some years later because it was cringy, but michael insisted on keeping it). they have always had their own developed server where they log on for their minecraft phases lasting at least 3 months every summer until they had to go back to school. theyre mostly playing for adventure and theyre not actually that good at the game. oh and they definitely tried those scary horror maps that youtubers covered and jeremy is scared shitless while michael is mostly unfazed

christine LOVES minecraft. she used to watch those old minecraft roleplays and begged her parents to buy her pocket edition on her tablet and eventually the java version on her laptop. she still occasionally plays but thats only when she hung out with jeremy more and found out he had minecraft too. she is a roleplayer at heart and loves creating storylines through building and adventuring. she also loves mods but mostly the ones that enhance builds and scenery

brooke got into minecraft because of rich and jeremy and although she plays the least, when she does she's mostly the resident flower collector and hangs out around the bases. she definitely watched minecraft stuff before especially ldshadowlady and amylee but that's about it

i don't have any more for the rest of the cast but if you have some insights lemme know i'd love to hear your headcanons!!!

#be more chill #bmc #rich goranski #jeremy heere #michael mell #christine canigula #brooke lohst #minecraft #i love mc #hyper-console

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puckandgossip · 26 days ago

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The Hughes bros are besties with Michael McLeod from childhood growing together. Heres some articles from the guys and their parents talking about it. Luke’s first evening in jersey after joining the team in April 2023 he went for dinner with jack and Mikey he told the team reporters.

1. **The Carpool Parents**

- **Link**: [https://www.nhl.com/devils/news/the-carpool-parents--feature/c-343297934](https://www.nhl.com/devils/news/the-carpool-parents--feature/c-343297934)

- **Publication Date**: December 18, 2023

- **Description**: This article details how the parents of Jack Hughes (Jim and Ellen Hughes), Michael McLeod (Rich and Judi McLeod), and Kevin Bahl (John Bahl) carpooled their children to hockey rinks in Mississauga, Ontario, during their childhood. It describes their close-knit community, shared experiences at outdoor rinks, and the role these families played in shaping their sons' hockey careers.[](https://www.nhl.com/devils/news/the-carpool-parents-feature-12-18-23)

2. **The Carpool Kids**

- **Link**: [https://www.nhl.com/devils/news/the-carpool-kids--feature/c-336053494](https://www.nhl.com/devils/news/the-carpool-kids--feature/c-336053494)

- **Publication Date**: October 15, 2023

- **Description**: This feature focuses on Jack Hughes, Michael McLeod, and Kevin Bahl as childhood friends who grew up in Mississauga, sharing carpool rides to hockey practices and games. It highlights their memories of playing together as kids and how they ended up as teammates with the New Jersey Devils, reflecting on their journey from the Greater Toronto Area to the NHL.[](https://www.nhl.com/devils/news/the-carpool-kids-feature)

yup they’ve known each other forever. 🤢

#j. hughes #q. hughes #l. hughes #m. mcleod

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mjwhisperer · 8 months ago

Text

𝚅𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚘 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕

2007

Los Angeles/Japan

Word Count: 9.1k

Tags: Fem!Reader, Mature era MJ, Late Night Conversation, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, Intimacy, Married Couple, Phone Sex, Large pp

It was late, the kind of night that settled deep in your bones, the air cool and still in early March. The house was blanketed in silence, the only sounds coming from the low hum of the air conditioning circulating through the vents, and the faint chime of your laptop powering up as you placed it on the bed. Your fingers were slightly shaky from exhaustion as you slipped out of your towel and into a smooth, purple satin nightgown, its fabric cool against your skin. You’d spent the whole day chasing after your two daughters—playing games, watching movies, even making a trip down to the local library. You remembered their excited squeals as they picked out books, eager for their father to quiz them later, a little competition they relished for the promise of toys or treats.

Michael had been gone for a few weeks now, whisked off to Japan for work. The house felt emptier without him, though he’d thought ahead, leaving gifts behind to ease the time apart. A brand-new laptop, gleaming on the bed, and a desktop in your office, all set up by his team. The laptop was for those precious nightly calls, a thread connecting you across the distance. He used it to check in on the girls, his voice filtering through the speakers as they giggled and updated him on their day. But tonight was for just the two of you.

Every other night, you’d Skype him before bed. Sometimes he’d stay on the line as you drifted off, the soft glow of his screen the last thing you’d see before sleep took over, and in the morning, you’d wake to a message, a “good morning” from halfway across the world.

You reached up, tugging the towel loose from your hair, letting the damp strands cascade down your back. You ran a hand through them absentmindedly, hoping they’d dry before you fell asleep. In the bathroom, you hung the towel on the railing, the cool tile beneath your feet grounding you. Suddenly, the sharp, familiar ring of an incoming call echoed from the bedroom. Heart racing slightly, you darted out of the bathroom, a smile already tugging at your lips as you tossed yourself onto the bed. Quickly adjusting yourself in front of the camera, you moved the mouse and clicked the green button.

The screen flickered to life, and there he was—Michael, your husband, looking effortlessly handsome, just as he always did. The soft glow of the hotel suite’s ambient lighting bathed his tanned skin, making it gleam in a way that made your breath catch. His white button-up was carelessly half undone, offering a teasing glimpse of his broad, familiar chest, muscles shifting slightly beneath the fabric. His eyes locked onto yours through the screen, and in that instant, the world outside the room felt distant. The unspoken intimacy between you pulled taut, like a thread drawn through space, bridging the miles that separated you.

“Hi, beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a rich, low rumble that had always felt like a caress against your skin. Though softened by the miles between you, it still held that warmth, that velvety tone that made your heart ache with want.

You smiled softly, the weight of the day easing a little. “Hi, baby. I miss you,” you breathed, pulling the laptop closer, feeling its warmth on your legs as you nestled back against the pillows—his pillows, on his side of the bed. The scent of him lingered faintly, a subtle reminder of his presence even though he was half a world away.

He cleared his throat, a familiar gesture, the kind of small movement you’d cataloged over the years. “How was your day? How are my girls?” His voice was tinged with that quiet yearning, and though it was a simple question, it carried the weight of his absence.

You yawned, exhaustion creeping up on you but still softened by the sound of his voice. “It was good. The girls are great. We had some much-needed mother-daughter time,” you replied, a hint of a smile playing on your lips as you thought back on the day.

Michael chuckled softly, his laugh a low, rolling sound that always sent a shiver through you. He shrugged the shirt off entirely, revealing the sculpted lines of his body beneath, half-dressed but every bit the man who always held your gaze. “That’s good. What did you all do? I’d like to hear about it,” he said, standing and stepping out of view, leaving only the rumpled pillows in sight.

“Well,” you began, watching the empty space, “This morning, they begged me to make French toast. I warned them it wouldn’t be as good as yours, but they insisted. So, I gave in, and honestly, it was a disaster.”

From across the room, Michael’s laugh echoed back, warm and teasing. “I had a feeling,” he said, his voice drifting to you like a memory, one of those quiet moments shared in the kitchen, his hands guiding yours.

You laughed too, the memory making you feel closer. “After that, they helped me clean up, and we blasted some of your music. They wanted to do it your way.”

You absently twisted the hem of your nightgown, the silky fabric soft between your fingertips, a calming motion. Michael hummed in response, that deep, knowing sound, and you could picture his expression even without seeing his face.

He returned to the camera, picking up the laptop with a familiar ease. “You’re coming with me,” he said, his tone playful yet commanding in a way that always made you feel warm inside. You watched as he carried the laptop with him, the camera shaking slightly as he walked into the bathroom. He set it down on the counter, the lighting now bright, reflecting off the mirror as he turned toward it.

You gazed at him through the screen, watching as he began wiping the makeup from his face. There was something vulnerable, yet undeniably captivating about seeing him like this—just him, bare, the years of his beauty laid plain before you. The faint traces of pigment on his skin from his vitiligo, a contrast of dark and light that you had memorized, faded but still so distinctly him. He wiped away the eyeliner, his eyes catching yours in the mirror.

“What else did my beautiful girls get up to?” he asked, his voice softer now, as though you two were the only ones in the world.

You took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself as your mind wandered to other thoughts. “We played a few board games, some chess and checkers, before watching a movie together. Then, we headed down to the library—of course, they want you to quiz them when you get back. They saw a doll they really liked, and you know what that means.”

Michael chuckled, the sound like a soft rumble through the screen. “Which books did they pick out?”

You grinned, a knowing look in your eyes. “Take a guess.”

He paused, his gaze lowering toward the camera, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “Don’t tell me…” he drawled.

You tilted your head, teasingly. “Harry Potter, of course. They’re little nerds, just like their daddy.”

Michael rolled his eyes dramatically, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “They get it from their mother, and you know it. Don’t even start with me,” he teased as he wiped the last bit of eyeliner away.

Watching him like this—just Michael, stripped of the layers the world usually saw, his skin soft and bare beneath the hotel lighting—filled you with an aching warmth. The familiarity of him was both comforting and magnetic, the way his face softened without the lines of makeup, the way his presence filled the space even through the distance. For a moment, it felt as though there were no miles between you, just the two of you connected in the intimacy of the night, the quiet hum of his hotel suite and the steady rhythm of your breathing the only sounds.

He broke the silence, his voice low and tender. “What else?” he asked, leaning forward on the counter, his gaze locked on yours through the screen. His eyes, those deep, expressive eyes, pulled you in further, making the distance seem even smaller. “I want to hear everything,” he murmured, his tone laced with gentle insistence, the kind that always made you feel like you were the only person in the world he wanted to listen to.

A soft smile tugged at your lips, the gentleness of his voice wrapping around you like a blanket. “After we got home, we had dinner. The girls were quiet for the rest of the night, didn’t really bother me, except to say goodnight. So, I took a long, hot bubble bath, washed my hair, did a little cleaning… oh, and I rearranged your closet,” you said, your voice trailing off at the end as your fingers absently traced the edge of the laptop, your mind replaying the small moments of the evening.

Michael nodded, his eyes lingering on you, his gaze sharp but soft at the same time, drinking you in. “New nightgown?” he asked, his voice husky as his eyes trailed over the satin draping your body.

You nodded, the faintest flush creeping into your cheeks. “Yeah, got it the other day. Along with a few others—champagne, black, royal blue, pink, and of course… red,” you teased softly, knowing that last color always sparked something in him. “Your favorite.”

His lips parted slightly as his tongue swept across them, the small gesture making your stomach tighten. “It looks beautiful on you,” he said, voice thickening just a touch. “Never realized purple was your color.”

You shrugged, a playful glint in your eye. “Neither did I. Something new, I guess.”

For a moment, his eyes didn’t leave yours, a heat rising between the two of you as he stared at you with that familiar intensity, like he could reach through the screen and touch you. His gaze was heavy, full of something deeper, something simmering just beneath the surface.

“How are you?” you asked softly, breaking the tension just enough, your voice tender and full of care.

He cleared his throat, shifting slightly under your gaze. “I’m doing well… tired, but nothing I’m not used to,” he said, the exhaustion lining his voice in a way that tugged at your heart.

You sighed, a hint of worry slipping into your voice. “You shouldn’t have to be used to that, baby. Why didn’t you get some rest?”

His lips curved into a small, almost bashful smile. “Wanted to call my pretty girl before she went off to sleep. You know I can’t go without hearing your voice,” he said, straightening up, the affection in his voice unmistakable. There was something about the way he said it, the way his words held you, that made your heart race a little faster.

Your eyes, almost without thinking, traced the lines of his body. He was still half-dressed, the lower half of him clad in black slacks with delicate golden elephants embroidered all over them, an eccentric touch that was so distinctly Michael. But your gaze lingered on more than just the intricate details of his pants—your eyes caught on the subtle but unmistakable outline of his arousal pressing against the fabric, and heat flushed through your body. God, he could never stay down.

Michael noticed your wandering gaze, his eyebrow arching in that teasing, knowing way of his. “What are you looking at, doll?” he asked, reaching for a comb and dragging it through his silky, straightened hair with the slow, precise movements that were second nature to him.

You shook your head quickly, feeling the flush rise in your cheeks. “Nothing, baby. Just you, that’s all,” you lied, your voice a little breathless, trying to pull your mind away from the growing tension in your body.

But Michael wasn’t fooled. His eyes bore into you, and you could feel his attention sharpening, feel him leaning into the moment even from across the screen. “Tell me,” he insisted, his voice low and commanding, a tone you knew well—one that made you melt, one you could never quite resist.

You shook your head again, heat flooding your cheeks and a nervous laugh escaping your lips. “It’s nothing, Michael,” you said, but the lie was transparent, and you both knew it.

His gaze dropped for a brief moment, then returned to yours, and the silence stretched between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken desire. You knew he could tell. You knew he’d seen the way your eyes lingered on him, the way your breath caught just slightly when your gaze met his. And just as surely as you’d noticed him, you felt it in yourself too—the subtle quickening of your pulse, the way your body was beginning to respond, the slow rise of heat pooling low in your belly.

Even though the miles separated you, you felt the pull as if he were standing right in front of you, the connection between you undeniable, magnetic, intimate.

The screen’s glow softened his features, but there was nothing soft about the way Michael stared at you. His eyes held yours, dark and intense, and though the silence stretched, it was thick with everything unspoken. You shifted slightly under his gaze, the silk of your nightgown brushing your skin, making you even more aware of the heat pooling in your belly.

“Tell me,” he repeated, his voice lower, more insistent this time, that commanding edge unmistakable.

You bit your lip, hesitating. His stare was piercing, and even though you were miles apart, it felt like he was right there, hovering over you, demanding an answer. “Michael, it’s nothing,” you lied again, but the tension in your voice betrayed you, the way it came out in a soft, breathless rush.

He let out a soft, almost amused chuckle, shaking his head, his long fingers sliding through his hair as he set the comb down. “You’re terrible at lying, you know that, right?” His smile was small but knowing, like he could read every thought running through your mind.

You swallowed, feeling your face grow warm. “I’m not lying,” you whispered, though your voice was barely convincing even to yourself.

Michael’s gaze dropped lower, his eyes trailing down the screen, taking in the way the nightgown clung to your body, the way you fidgeted slightly under his attention. “Uh-huh,” he hummed, leaning back against the counter, his arms folding across his chest. “Then why are you staring at me like that, doll?”

Your breath caught in your throat. “I wasn’t—”

He raised an eyebrow, cutting you off. “Yes, you were.” His voice dipped lower, soft and velvety but with a hard edge. “You’re looking at me like you want something. And you’re not saying what.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the pull between you two becoming impossible to ignore. His voice, the way he was staring at you, made it hard to think straight. “I… wasn’t trying to,” you stammered, but your voice trailed off.

Michael’s lips curled into a sly smile. “You don’t have to try, baby,” he said, his voice now a murmur that sent shivers through you. “I can feel it from here.”

Your breath hitched, your body betraying you as you shifted again, the silk of the nightgown sliding against your skin, making you even more aware of your own growing arousal.

His gaze followed the movement, and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes darkening with intent. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hmm?” he asked, his voice low and intimate, like he was pulling the confession out of you. “Tell me.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. “It’s just… you,” you admitted finally, the words slipping out, soft and barely audible.

Michael’s smile widened, something darker flashing in his eyes. “Just me?”

You nodded, unable to look away from him. “Yeah. Just… you.”

He leaned in closer to the camera, his face filling the screen, his eyes holding yours with a steady, burning intensity. “And what about me, doll? What is it you’re thinking?”

Your mouth went dry, the heat between your legs becoming unbearable as your body reacted to his words, his tone. You could feel the desire curling inside you, sharp and demanding, but you hesitated.

Michael’s gaze flickered downward, catching on the way your chest rose and fell, the way your body subtly shifted on the bed, and he let out a low, quiet breath. “You’re getting worked up, aren’t you?” he said, his voice like silk, sliding over you, pulling you in.

You didn’t answer, but your body spoke for you—the slight tremble in your hand, the way your thighs pressed together beneath the sheets. He could see it all, even from across the screen, and that knowledge made your heart race.

“Say it,” he demanded softly, his voice leaving no room for anything but the truth. “Tell me what you want.”

You bit your lip, your heart pounding as you held his gaze, the tension between you tightening like a coil. You could feel the heat rising inside you, your body screaming for him, even through the screen. “I want you,” you whispered, the confession slipping from your lips like a plea.

Michael’s eyes darkened further, a spark of satisfaction lighting in them as he straightened up, his chest rising and falling as if your words had sent a shiver through him too. “That’s better,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Your pulse quickened at his words, your body responding before your mind could catch up. The air between you two was charged, alive with tension that seemed to hum in your veins. Michael stood there, his fingers gripping the counter, the muscles in his forearms flexing slightly as he leaned closer, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your breath catch. The screen between you felt thin, like a veil you could almost tear through if you just reached out far enough.

“And what do you want me to do, doll?” His voice had roughened, deepened with desire. The question lingered in the air, pulling you in, tightening the pull between you.

Your lips parted, a shiver running through your body, your heart pounding in your chest as you barely whispered, “I want you to touch me.” The words slipped out almost involuntarily, soft but loaded with the weight of your need.

Michael’s lips curled into a slow, wicked smile that made your skin flush hot. He leaned back, letting his eyes sweep over you, devouring every inch even through the screen. “Then show me where you want me to touch you,” he said, the command in his voice unmistakable, the anticipation crackling between you.

Your lips trembled at his words, unsure yet utterly captivated by his intensity. “Right now?” you asked, your voice almost shaking with the sudden rush of heat.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Right now,” he murmured, his voice velvet and steel. “Is the bedroom door locked?”

You glanced over at the door, your heart racing. “No,” you whispered.

“Go lock it for me,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Then take off that pretty nightgown. We don’t need it getting messy, do we?”

Your breath hitched, and you felt a spark of anticipation light deep inside you. You nodded, lifting the laptop carefully from your lap and setting it down on the bed. Your feet touched the cool hardwood floor, grounding you as you crossed the room, the click of the lock in the quiet room feeling like the beginning of something inevitable.

As you dimmed the lights, casting the room in a soft, intimate glow, you caught your reflection in the mirror—your flushed cheeks, the way your lips parted slightly in anticipation. Slowly, deliberately, you pulled the nightgown over your head, letting the satin slip down your body before laying it neatly on your side of the bed. You couldn’t help but glance back at the screen, feeling Michael’s eyes on you even from miles away.

When you crawled back onto the bed, bare now, the cool sheets beneath you a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from your body, you felt his gaze lock onto your form. His breath hitched softly through the speakers, his eyes darkening further as he leaned against the bathroom wall.

“Look at you,” Michael whispered, his voice low and reverent, laced with desire. “So sexy.”

You smiled, your heart pounding with the thrill of his words. “Thank you, baby,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly.

Michael pushed off the wall, his body moving with the kind of grace that always left you breathless. He walked back to the counter, setting the laptop down and adjusting the angle so he could see you more clearly. “Lay back for me, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice a gentle command that made your stomach twist with anticipation. “Let me see you.”

You did as he asked, leaning back against the pillows, your legs brushing together as you settled in. Your hand slid down your thighs instinctively, and your breath quickened as you felt the heat building between your legs. The distance between you seemed to evaporate, the connection between you two sharper, more tangible.

“God, I miss you,” Michael muttered, his eyes never leaving your body, his voice rough with longing. “Where would you want me to touch you right now, doll? Show Daddy where it aches.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the sound of his voice alone making your pulse race. You spread your legs slowly, your body trembling with a mix of nerves and need. “Right here,” you murmured in a sultry tone, your fingers trailing down between your thighs. The heat of your core radiated as your fingers slid through the slickness between your folds. “It aches right here.”

Michael’s eyes darkened, his gaze flickering away from the screen for just a moment before he walked out of view. You heard the soft click of the bathroom door closing and locking, the faint sound sending a thrill through you. When he returned, his eyes were sharper, more focused, and there was a tension in his body that made your breath quicken.

“Spread them for me, baby,” Michael murmured, his voice dropping an octave, rough and commanding. “Let me see that pretty clit.”

Your body obeyed before you could think, your legs parting wider as your fingers brushed over your sensitive spot, your body responding to his voice, his gaze, the heat of his desire wrapping around you like a vice. You could feel the intensity of the moment, the way your body yearned for his touch, even though it was miles away.

Your breath became shallow, your chest rising and falling quickly as you held his gaze through the screen. His eyes were locked on yours, dark and full of need, and the sound of his breathing, ragged and low, only fueled your own arousal. You could feel the slickness of your arousal as your fingers moved, and the heat in your body built with each passing second.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “Just like that. Keep going, baby. Let me hear you.”

Your body trembled, every nerve alive and burning with a need only he could fulfill. The sound of Michael’s voice, the slow, deliberate way he spoke to you, made the space between you disappear, leaving only the raw intensity of the moment. His eyes, dark and full of desire, stayed fixed on you, watching the way your fingers moved inside yourself, the way your lips parted in soft moans that barely scratched the surface of the pleasure surging through your body.

“God, baby, you sound so pretty,” he murmured, his chest rising and falling as his breath grew heavier. His gaze flickered down to where your fingers disappeared inside you, your wetness glistening in the dim light, your body aching with a deep need for him. “Slide them deeper for me, baby. I want to watch you.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, you pushed your fingers deeper, your walls tightening around them as a breathless moan escaped your lips. The feeling of your slick heat enveloping your fingers sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, but it wasn’t enough—it could never be enough without him.

Michael groaned low in his throat, his hand already moving down, slipping beneath his waistband as he palmed his thick, aching length. “You’re making me so damn hard, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with need. His fingers wrapped tightly around his length, gripping it through the rough fabric of his slacks. His arousal was so evident, straining against the material, his body screaming for you as much as yours was for him.

“Michael…” Your voice trembled, barely a whisper, but he heard it. His eyes locked on yours, a smirk playing on his lips, knowing exactly how much you wanted him. “I need you…”

He licked his lips, standing up straighter, his movements slow and deliberate as he unbuckled his belt, the clinking sound sending shivers down your spine. The metal clinked again as he let it fall to the floor, your eyes never leaving the way his hands moved with such confidence, with such need. “I’m not going anywhere, baby,” he murmured, his voice a deep growl that made your whole body tighten with desire.

He slid his slacks down, stepping out of them with a grace that only he possessed. Now in just his white briefs, you could see the outline of him, thick and hard, the fabric struggling to contain him. His bulge pressed tightly against the soft cotton, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip, your fingers faltering for a second as you watched him.

“You want it, don’t you?” Michael asked, his voice teasing as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs, slowly peeling them down. The way his body moved was mesmerizing, every muscle in his slender, toned frame seeming to ripple as he freed himself from the last piece of clothing.

You moaned softly at the sight of him, his length thick and perfect, adorned with the splotches of his vitiligo that made him so uniquely beautiful. His length was an exquisite mix of colors—deep brown, soft pink, and pale white—each mark telling a story, each part of him more beautiful than the last. The thick foreskin rolled back as he stroked himself, exposing the flushed pink tip, glistening with precum. Your core throbbed, your body craving the feeling of him filling you, stretching you, making you his.

“I want you so bad,” you whispered, your breath catching in your throat. “I miss you…”

Michael groaned at your words, his hand gripping his length tighter, his thumb smearing the bead of precum that had formed at the tip. “I miss you more, beautiful. So much…” His voice was low, gravelly, filled with the same longing that echoed in your chest. He spat into his palm, rubbing it over his length, each slow stroke making you ache even more. “You need me, don’t you?”

You whimpered, your hips bucking slightly as you pumped your fingers faster, but it still wasn’t enough. “I need you inside me, baby. Please…” The desperation in your voice was palpable, your body on the edge, ready to tip over into oblivion, but it was him you needed to send you there.

His eyes darkened, filled with lust and something deeper, something raw and primal. “I bet you do,” he murmured, his voice sending a fresh wave of arousal through you. “Your fingers don’t feel the same, do they? Not like me. You like when I stretch you, don’t you? When I fill you so deep, you can’t think of anything else.”

You moaned in response, your fingers moving faster now, matching the rhythm of his strokes. “Yes, baby,” you gasped. “I love it when you stretch me… when you fill me so tight.”

Michael’s voice was thick with need, every word dripping with desire as his hand slowed, gripping his thick length with the kind of patience that made your entire body throb. “God, I wish I was there,” he growled, his voice laced with frustration, the distance between you unbearable. “I need to feel how tight you are… how wet you are for me.” His breath hitched, and you could see the way his length twitched in his hand, the precum glistening at the tip as he twisted his wrist, his strokes slower but more deliberate now.

You watched, mesmerized by the sight of him, the way his large hand moved over his length. His muscles rippled with each slow, controlled motion, the sheer size of him making you ache in a way that made your core pulse even more. His words brought you back to reality, the intensity of his gaze locking you in.

“Match with me, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low groan that reverberated through your body. “I don’t want you to cum yet.”

Your body trembled as you nodded, slowing the movement of your fingers inside yourself, matching the rhythm of his strokes. Your fingers curled just right, brushing that spot deep inside that made your toes curl, but you fought to keep control, not wanting to disobey his command. The slickness of your arousal coated your fingers, and you couldn’t help but moan softly, the sound filling the quiet space around you.

Michael’s eyes darkened, his gaze intense as he watched you, his lips parting in a soft, shaky breath. “You like watching me, don’t you?” he asked, his voice laced with a teasing edge, but there was no doubt that he knew the effect he had on you.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, and your mind wandered, flashing back to the countless nights you had found him like this—waiting for you, sprawled out on the bed after the kids were finally asleep, his body bare, his hand wrapped around his length just like it was now. He’d always be watching you, his eyes dark with lust, waiting for the moment when you’d walk over and take control, finishing what he started with your own hand. You could almost feel the weight of him in your grip, the warmth of his seed spilling onto your fingers as he let go, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Say it, baby,” Michael groaned, his voice pulling you back to the present. “I know you do. I know you wish you could touch me right now, but I promise you, when I get home, you’re all mine.”

The way he said it made your body tighten, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you slowed your fingers, your breath ragged. “Yes, Michael,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as the desire swelled inside you.

But Michael shook his head, a slow, teasing grin spreading across his face. “Wrong name, doll,” he said with a soft chuckle, his body twitching as his thumb grazed over the slick tip of his length. His voice dropped to a low, guttural growl as he added, “You know better than that.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your body trembling as you corrected yourself, “Yes, daddy…” you moaned, your voice a needy whimper that made his eyes flash with approval.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with praise as his hand moved faster now, pumping his length with slow, deliberate strokes that had you biting your lip in anticipation. “Spread those pretty legs for me. Let me see all of you.”

You obeyed instantly, spreading your legs wider, your skin flushed with arousal as you opened yourself completely for him, giving him the full view he craved. The way he looked at you, the hunger in his eyes as he took in every inch of your exposed body, made you feel powerful, like you were his whole world in that moment.

“Fuck…” Michael groaned deeply, his hand tightening around his length as his eyes roamed over your body. He watched the way your slickness glistened between your thighs, his thumb brushing over the head of his length, spreading the precum that dripped from his swollen tip. “I need you,” he growled, his voice rough with desperation. “I need to be inside you, right now.”

Your breath hitched, your fingers slipping deeper inside yourself as you watched him, your body trembling with the need to feel him, to be filled by him. “I need you too, baby,” you whispered, your voice a soft plea as your fingers moved faster, matching the rhythm of his strokes. “I want to feel you so bad…”

Michael’s eyes darkened, his body tensing as he imagined the feel of you wrapped around him, your tight, wet heat pulling him deeper, the way your body always responded so perfectly to his. “Soon, baby,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a growl. “When I get home… I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk the next day.”

The promise in his words made your body tremble, your breath coming faster as you felt the edge approaching, but you held back, waiting for him, needing to cum with him, needing to hear his voice as you came apart. “Please, baby,” you moaned, your fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot. “I’m so close…”

The tension between your bodies was electric, every word that spilled from Michael’s lips a molten thread that wrapped tighter around your senses, pulling you closer to the edge. His voice was a husky growl, rich and deep, each syllable dripping with lust. “Just a little longer, baby,” he rasped, his breath ragged, as if he could barely contain the heat rising inside him. “I want to hear more… God, you sound so wet for me. You’re driving me crazy.”

The sound of his voice sent a shiver straight through you, making your breath catch in your throat. You moaned softly, desperate and aching, as your fingers moved faster inside you, the slickness of your arousal coating them. Your hips lifted slightly off the bed, seeking more, needing more, as your body trembled with each slow, deliberate thrust of your fingers. Your other hand roamed up your chest, fingertips grazing your heated skin, until they found your breast, your fingers pinching the sensitive nipple, the sharp sensation shooting a fresh wave of pleasure straight to your core.

Michael’s gaze was locked onto you, burning, his dark eyes hooded with desire as they trailed over every inch of your body. It felt like his touch even though he was miles away—his hunger radiating through the screen, making your skin tingle with the intensity of it. The connection between you felt tangible, heavy, like you could reach through the distance and pull him to you. You watched the way his muscles flexed as he stroked himself, his large hand gripping his thick length, the sound of his slick, rhythmic strokes filling the space, deepening the desire in your belly.

His head fell back against the wall of the hotel bathroom, his body flushed with heat, his legs spread wide, hips rocking forward as he fucked his hand, his need palpable. His other hand gripped the counter for balance, his chest rising and falling heavily, droplets of sweat glistening on his skin. The raw masculinity of him like this—completely lost in the fantasy of you—made your insides quiver with longing. You wanted him there so badly, needed to feel him between your thighs, inside you, his body pressed against yours, hot and slick and hard.

“Fuck, baby,” Michael groaned, his voice deeper now, a low rumble that sent vibrations through your body. “You look so good… I wish I could touch you, feel you right now. I need to be inside you, baby. I need to feel how tight you are for me.”

Your body reacted instantly to his words, your pulse racing as a wave of pleasure washed over you. “Michael…” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need, your fingers pumping faster, hitting that spot deep inside that made your thighs quiver. You were so close, the heat between your legs nearly unbearable, your core tightening as you chased the release that hovered just out of reach. “I need you so much… I need you to fuck me.”

His eyes darkened at your words, his breath hitching as his hand moved faster along his shaft , his thick length glistening with precum. “You’re going to feel so good when I get home,” he groaned, his voice heavy, thick with promise.

The image of him sinking deep inside you, filling you completely, sent you spiraling closer to the edge. You moaned his name again, breathless, your body trembling with need, desperate for him, desperate to come undone for him. “Please… I need to cum, Michael,” you begged, your voice soft, filled with the weight of your desire. “I need you to make me cum.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes locked on you, the intensity of his gaze making you feel like he was right there with you, watching every little movement, every little sound you made. “Not yet, baby,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “Hold on for me. I want to see you beg for it.”

A soft whimper escaped your lips, your body trembling as you held back, fighting the overwhelming urge to let go. “Please, baby… please,” you whispered, your voice shaky, desperate. “I need it… I need you so bad.”

Michael’s breath was a low, ragged hum, each inhale more strained than the last as he worked his hand over his thick, pulsing length, the pressure of his grip intensifying. His voice, rough and edged with desire, was laced with command as he whispered, “That’s it, baby… Cum for me. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

His words sent a jolt through your body, your moans growing louder, almost desperate, as your fingers moved faster, slipping and sliding through the slickness of your arousal, the wet sounds filling the room. Your fingers curled deeper, hitting just the right spot that made your thighs quiver and your breath catch in your throat. Your hips bucked uncontrollably, chasing the edge, your body on fire, every nerve tingling with anticipation. The sounds of his heavy breaths and deep groans reverberated through the speakers, blending with your own cries of pleasure, creating an intimate, carnal symphony between you.

Your eyes stayed fixed on Michael, the image of him—head thrown back against the wall, chest heaving, muscles taut with need—etched in your mind. His eyes were locked on the camera, watching you fall apart, feeding off every little moan that escaped your lips. His strokes were fast, hard, the veins on his thick shaft bulging under his tight grip. His toes curled against the cold tile floor as he pushed himself closer to his release.

“I’m so close, baby,” he growled, his voice strained as he watched your fingers pump inside you. His length twitched in his hand, his grip tightening, the muscles in his forearms flexing with every movement. He was on the brink, teetering dangerously close to the edge, his body begging for release.

With one last stroke of your fingers, your body shattered. A breathy moan ripped from your throat as you came, Michael’s name spilling from your lips like a prayer, your hips lifting off the bed as waves of pleasure rolled through you. Your core tightened around your fingers, your body trembling uncontrollably, the heat of your release coursing through every inch of you.

“Fuck…” Michael groaned deeply, his body jerking as his release hit him hard, his hand moving faster, the slick sounds of his strokes filling the room. He growled, low and primal, as thick ropes of his hot seed shot out, splattering onto the floor, dripping from his tip in long, sticky strands. His body trembled with the force of it, his breathing heavy and uneven, his chest rising and falling in rapid bursts.

You watched him through the haze of your own pleasure, your body still trembling, your fingers coated in your slick arousal as you came down from the high. Your moans lingered in the air, soft and breathless, as you laid back against the pillows, your legs weak and aching, your skin flushed and sensitive.

Michael leaned back against the wall, his hand still wrapped around his semi-hard length, now covered in his own release. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, sweat dripping down the side of his neck, tracing the curve of his collarbone. His gaze was half-lidded, his lips parted slightly as he stared at the ceiling, the remnants of pleasure still washing over him.

“I miss you,” he said, his voice still tinged with the rough edge of his desire, but now softer, more tender. It was a confession, raw and vulnerable.

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening with the same longing, your heart aching to have him there beside you. “I miss you more,” you whispered, your voice soft, almost pleading. “Come home soon, baby.”

He nodded, his eyes dropping back to the screen, the intensity in them replaced by something warmer, more affectionate. “I will,” he promised, his voice low but filled with certainty. “Go clean up, I’ll be right here.”

You slipped your fingers out of yourself, your body still sensitive, and slowly climbed off the bed, your legs trembling as you made your way to the bathroom. The light flickered on as you entered, the cool tile beneath your feet a sharp contrast to the warmth still pulsing through your body. You turned the faucet on and lathered your hands with soap, scrubbing away the slick remnants of your release, the water running warm over your skin.

Back in the hotel bathroom, Michael moved with slow, deliberate motions, his body still humming with the aftershocks of his release. He wiped away the thick seed that had spilled onto the floor, his hand pausing for a moment as his mind drifted back to you. Even after his orgasm, the need for you gnawed at him, a dull ache that refused to leave. His length, still semi-hard, swayed slightly as he moved, a testament to just how deeply you affected him, even from miles away. His hand could never quite compare to the way your body felt, the way your warmth clung to him, trembling under his touch, tightening around him in the way only you could.

You turned off the water, drying your hands slowly before flipping the bathroom light off. The cool hardwood floor felt sharp against your bare feet as you padded quietly back to the bed, your body still tingling from the intimacy shared moments before. You slipped on your nightgown, the fabric cool against your flushed skin, before easing back onto the bed. The room was quiet now, the only sound the soft rustle of the sheets as you settled in.

Reaching over to the nightstand, you grabbed the laptop, watching Michael as he finished cleaning himself up. He looked so at ease, the tension from earlier completely gone, his chest rising and falling steadily. It was just him—just Michael—and the sight of him like that, bare and relaxed, made your heart swell with warmth.

He caught you watching him, his lips curving into a soft, genuine smile that made your chest tighten. “Hi, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice softer now, the rough edge of desire replaced by something more tender. He picked up the laptop and moved back to the bedroom, setting it down on the bed before easing onto it, his body still bare. His length, though beginning to soften, still hung heavy between his legs, the evidence of his earlier need for you lingering.

Michael leaned back against the pillows, running his fingers through his tousled hair, a deep breath escaping his lips as he settled in. “Still need some help?” you teased, your tone playful but your eyes lingering on him, drinking in the sight of his still-recovering body.

He glanced down at himself with a chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “It should go down soon, I think,” he said, his tone light but laced with the remnants of desire. Then, with a smirk, he added, “I wouldn’t have this problem if you had come with me.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Oh, I beg to differ, stallion. You’d still be like this, and we both know it.”

He let out a deep, rumbling laugh, the sound vibrating through the screen. “Maybe,” he admitted, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Then, his expression softened, his tone becoming more casual. “When are you going to sleep, baby?”

You shrugged, pulling the covers up around you as you settled in more comfortably. “Whenever sleep decides to creep up on me. What about you? Got anything later?”

Michael ran a slow hand over his bare chest, his fingers brushing across the ridges of muscle, his skin still warm from earlier. “Just a couple of meetings, nothing serious,” he said with a lazy grin, his eyes locking onto yours. The teasing glint in his gaze sent a familiar flutter through your stomach. “I’ll be free tonight.”

Your eyes twinkled with playful mischief as you leaned closer to the screen. “How free?” you asked, your voice low and suggestive, a hint of heat in your tone. “Because I was thinking… maybe we could do this again later.”

Michael chuckled softly, his smile deepening as he shook his head, wagging a finger at you. “Aht, aht. You know better than that. That’s my time with the girls,” he teased, though his voice was thick with affection. “You’ll have to be patient, baby. But don’t worry, it’ll be worth it when I get home.”

Your gaze flickered down to where his hand rested on his still slightly erect length, his attempts to cover himself proving futile. You could see the outline of him beneath the blanket, and it made you bite your lip, the thought of how he’d feel against you stirring that familiar ache deep inside. “Is that right?” you teased back, rolling your eyes playfully as you snuggled deeper into the covers, pulling them tighter around you. “Guess I’ll just have to wait then.”

Michael’s smile softened as he adjusted under the blanket, the movement revealing a glimpse of his lean stomach before he settled in more comfortably. His voice lowered, his tone taking on a more intimate quality. “I do miss you, though,” he admitted, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. It wasn’t just about the physical—there was a depth in his confession that spoke of the quiet moments, the small touches, the way your presence filled the empty spaces in his life.

You felt your heart clench at the sincerity in his voice, the longing he never quite managed to hide. “I miss you more,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “But this… this isn’t as hard as when you were on tour for three years. That was unbearable.” You tried to smile, but the ache of those long months without him still haunted you sometimes.

Michael’s face twisted into a wry smile, half amusement, half regret. He rolled his eyes gently, trying to lighten the mood but knowing how deeply it affected you. “I know… but at least now, I’ve got more time for you and the girls. I always will. That’s never going to change.” His eyes softened as he stared at you through the screen, his expression filled with a kind of love that made the miles between you feel like nothing. “I promise, baby. Always.”

You both fell into a quiet, lingering moment, just staring at each other, soaking in the connection that remained even through the distance. The intimacy of it, the love, filled the space between you, making the world feel small and just for the two of you. You reached for his pillow beside you, hugging it close, the familiar scent of black orchid wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. It was his scent—strong, bold, and uniquely Michael.

“Tired?” he asked softly, watching you with a knowing look, one arm propped behind his head while the other lazily traced patterns over his chest.

You nodded, blinking slowly as exhaustion began to creep up on you. “A little… I shouldn’t have stayed up so late. The girls wanted to go to the park for a picnic, and you know how hard it is to say no to them,” you said with a soft smile, your heart warming at the thought of the little moments you cherished with your children.

Michael bit his lip, his dark eyes softening as he watched you through the screen. He could see the exhaustion settling into your features, but also the contentment that came with the simplicity of normal life—the life you created together, away from the madness of the outside world. He let out a slow breath, his voice dropping to that low, intimate tone that always seemed to wrap around you like a blanket. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourselves. You all deserve that… you deserve so much more,” he murmured, his words laced with a tenderness that only deepened the ache of his absence.

You smiled, though it was weighed down by tiredness, your eyes heavy but still holding that familiar warmth he knew so well. “They miss you,” you said softly, your voice catching just a little as you spoke. “I tell them all the time that you can’t do everything because you’re working… but they don’t really understand yet. And they asked…” You trailed off, your eyes flicking away from the screen for a moment.

Michael’s brow furrowed slightly, curiosity piqued by the hesitance in your voice. He leaned a little closer to the screen, his hand absentmindedly running through his tousled hair. “Asked about what, baby?” he pressed, his voice still gentle but edged with concern.

You took a deep breath, the weight of what you were about to say lingering between you like a tangible thing. When you finally spoke, it was in a soft, careful whisper, as though the word itself might stir something painful. “Neverland,” you said, letting it hang in the air between you, the significance of the place touching every corner of your relationship. You knew what it meant to him—how deeply it was tied to his dreams, and how much it hurt to let it go. “They’re curious, and I try to explain, but… you know how stubborn they can be. Stubborn like their daddy,” you added with a gentle smile, trying to lighten the mood, though the gravity of the conversation was impossible to ignore.

Michael’s face tightened for a moment, his expression darkening with the memories that the name evoked. He sighed deeply, the sound heavy and resigned as his fingers dragged through his hair. His shoulders sagged just a bit, the weight of it all seeming to press down on him as he thought about it. “We’ll find our home, baby. I promise,” he said, his voice steady but thick with determination. “Just tell them daddy’s working on it, alright? It won’t be long. We’ll have something just as special.” The conviction in his words was strong, but there was a flicker of old pain in his eyes, the kind you knew would always be there no matter how much time passed.

Your heart clenched at the sight of him, the vulnerability he rarely showed anyone but you. “Please come home soon,” you whispered, your voice almost breaking under the weight of how much you needed him. “I miss you so much, Michael. I hate it when you’re away… it feels like part of me is missing.”

His face softened at your words, and for a moment, the mask he wore for the world slipped, revealing the deep ache of longing mirrored in his eyes. “I’ll be home soon, baby. I promise.” His voice was thick with emotion, low and soothing, like he was trying to wrap you up in comfort even from a distance. “Don’t get too worked up, okay? I don’t want you stressing out. When I get back, I’ll take care of you, I swear.”

You nodded, unable to find the words as your throat tightened, the overwhelming need for him making it hard to speak. “Okay,” you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible.

He sighed again, the sound full of love and something deeper—an unspoken understanding that the distance between you was unbearable, but only temporary. “I love you, beautiful. Please get some rest for me, alright?” His tone was soft, coaxing, but there was a firmness to it too, the kind that made you want to do anything he asked just to ease the concern in his voice. “It’s only a few more days… and then I’ll be right there next to you.”

You nodded again, your voice catching in your throat as you whispered, “I will.”

Michael’s expression shifted into something warmer, more playful as he smiled at you, his lips curling into that familiar grin that always made your heart skip a beat. “I’ll call you before I head to sleep tonight. I love you.”

You smiled sleepily, your eyelids growing heavier by the second as you fought the pull of exhaustion. “I love you more, doodoo,” you murmured, the nickname slipping from your lips without thought, a habit from years of teasing.

He chuckled deeply, the sound rich and full, like velvet wrapping around you in the quiet of the night. “Goodnight, pretty,” he whispered, his voice a soothing caress just before the screen went dark, the call ending.

You sat there for a moment, staring at the blank screen, the silence of the room settling around you like a heavy cloak. Then, with a sigh, you closed the laptop and pulled his pillow closer to your chest, burying your face in the soft fabric. His scent—bold and rich with notes of black orchid—filled your senses, wrapping you in the comfort of his presence even though he wasn’t there. You snuggled deeper into the blankets, letting the warmth of his pillow soothe you as sleep finally began to claim you.

Soon, he’d be home. Soon, he’d be right there in your arms, where he belonged.

#michael jackson #moonwalker #wattpad #mjf fanfiction #writing #imagine #mjj #mjsdiiana #mature era #endless seduction #mjswhisperer #2007 Michael

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