#Mike schmidt x gn!reader smut
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xcherryerim · 8 months ago
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Strange Fascination
Part One: A Mocha With A side Of Your Sight
pt.two
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Stalker!Mike x gn!reader
“Every morning, in front of you at last, I stand again, as if I'm enchanted. I'm still half-awake, the haziness guiding me towards you.” — Iced Coffee by Red velvet
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This story will lead to smut (not this part but the second) If you’re not up for that, do not read this!
Warning: obsession/ stalking | mentions of over-usage (with sleeping pills but yk) | Breaking in readers house
Notes: This part is meant to describe Mike’s fascination on reader and how he ends up breaking into reader’s house so, this part mainly focuses on Mike along side Abby. Part two will focus mainly on reader. (also this was revised like 3 times so, yk not that perfect)
Summary: After not seeing you at school to pick up your brother, his mind is flooded with worry. In an excuse to hangout with his sister, Mike drove near your place, observing your every move through the cafe window.
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Mike tends to obsess easily. Whether it's with re-living the events of his lost brother, collecting nostalgic artifacts, or reading a stack load of psychology books. It’s an innocent hobby and it’s not harming anyone, but lately, he started to be captivated by a new subject.
Four months have passed since Abby began attending middle school, but Mike can still vividly recall the very first moment he laid eyes on you. That fateful day remains etched in his memory, as though it happened just yesterday.
Despite the mounting stress surrounding his impending court case against his Aunt, Mike attempted to maintain a composed demeanor for Abby's sake. She was embarking on a significant transition, moving from her familiar surroundings to a larger and more complex educational environment.
As he patiently awaited Abby’s emergence from the classroom, his nerves were further tested when a stranger appeared and positioned themselves near him, close enough for the musky Vanilla scent to reach his nose.
Under normal circumstances, Mike would shy away from making eye contact with strangers, unless he had a specific reason to engage with them. However, on this particular day, he found himself inexplicably drawn to look up, and there you are, standing before him. In his eyes, you appeared as a divine being, an angel who had descended from the heavens, sent to watch over him and him alone.
Your presence sent a shiver down his spine, heightening his nervous energy while simultaneously eliciting a sense of comfort and security.
Though Mike remained silent, his eyes meticulously took in every detail of your visage, committing your likeness to memory. His behavior was not intended to be unsettling; rather, it stemmed from an innate need to capture your image in his mind.
Suddenly, you broke the silence with a timid "Hi," which caught him off guard. Taken aback, Mike responded with a soft, "Hello, you."
While seeing you for mere moments each weekday may seem like a fleeting encounter, Mike's keen observation skills allowed him to make the most of these brief instances. He meticulously studied your routine, scrutinizing the subtle variations in the timing of your arrival to collect your brother.
On Mondays and Thursdays, you could be found arriving precisely at 3:20, while Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays offered slightly longer windows, ranging from 3:30 to 3:46.
Through diligent study and careful attention, Mike managed to piece together a comprehensive understanding of your schedule, ensuring that he wouldn't miss a single opportunity to catch a glimpse of you.
In addition to monitoring your schedule, Mike began to decode the nuances of your moods based on your daily attire. Although you generally stuck to the same color scheme, he discerned subtle differences that hinted at your emotional state.
For instance, a particular long-sleeve shirt signaled haste, while an oversized graphic tee indicated fatigue. Even minor alterations to your hairstyle served as clues to your mental landscape. Over time, Mike committed countless details to memory, even going so far as to surreptitiously follow your vehicle to ascertain your home address.
However, despite these extensive efforts at understanding and learning about you, the interactions remained limited to brief greetings - a tantalizing taste of connection amidst the vast sea of unspoken longing.
On this particular Wednesday, chaos reigned as students spilled from the classroom, jostling one another in their rush to leave. Amidst the pandemonium, Abby found herself standing beside Mike, sensing the turmoil in his gaze.
Intrigued, she queried, "Why are we still here?" Her question snapped him back to the present, and he stammered, struggling to formulate a coherent thought.
Remembering the purpose of their wait, he asked, "Um, Abbs, did your classmate... was it Gregory? Did he come to school today?"
Abby couldn't help but furrow her brow, wondering if Mike's preoccupation was related to you. "No," she replied briefly before leading the way, prompting him to follow reluctantly.
Attempting to shift gears, he inquired about the solar system project Mike helped her with.
"So, how did your presentation go? Did you score a hundred?"
Abby sighed, clarifying, "The science teacher never gives hundreds, but I managed to snag a ninety-seven."
“That’s still pretty good, Abbs. Don’t worry.” He smiled.
Mike struggled to suppress his desire to visit your residence, the concern for your well-being clouding his judgment. His anxiety threatened to derail his focus on the road, nearly resulting in a collision and earning him seven irate honks from fellow drivers.
Abby wondered if her mental prayers on the road helped them get home safely. She was now standing in front of the kitchen table, as his brother, still with his anxious look served her spaghetti. As she polished off her meal, she observed Mike's restless hands continuously picking at his uneaten food.
Unsure whether to approach him about his obvious distress, she hesitated, suspecting that he might dismiss her concerns. Enveloped by the deafening silence, she contemplated retreating to her room or remaining to offer support. Ultimately, it was Mike who broke the quiet standoff, tentatively proposing, "Do you want to go for a walk?"
This unexpected invitation perplexed her; sibling bonds between the two had predominantly revolved around shared chores, academic assistance from Mike, and marathon sessions of cheesy films.
However, the unfamiliarity of a walk piqued Abby’s interest. Sensing hidden intentions, she inquired, "Why?"
Mike attempted to deflect his sister's probing gaze, replying casually, "Just feel like getting some fresh air."
With that, he grabbed his keys and confidently declared, "I know a great spot."
Mike navigated his vehicle to a parking spot near the park, consciously avoiding your location to not seem suspicious. As they walked, Mike maintained a brisk pace, pushing Abby to her limits as she struggled to keep up.
After a few exhausting minutes, the excuse he needed to invite Abby to the coffee shop on your street appeared.
"Oh, you're tired?" he feigned innocence, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. "I think I recall seeing a coffee shop nearby."
Upon reaching the coffee shop, the once-unfamiliar street suddenly held an uncanny familiarity for Abby. Though she couldn't comprehend the reasoning behind this sensation, she was relieved to see a genuine grin spread across Mike's face. While appreciative of his newfound composure, the peculiar nature of his smile continued to nag at her subconscious. Little did she know, her apprehension foreshadowed the depth of his new fixation.
Mike's gaze roamed the coffee shop, absorbing the ambiance - the warm lighting, the rich scent of coffee beans, and the soothing fragrance of lavender. His imagination ran wild, conjuring visions of an intimate date with you in this very locale.
He envisioned himself sitting across from you at a cozy café. As you brought the mug to your lips, he reached out gently, wiping away a stray dollop from your mouth. Your eyes met his, filled with warmth and understanding.
In this fantasy, he leaned in, lips meeting softly in a tender kiss. His fingers traced the softness of your cheek, feeling the warmth beneath his touch. The taste of espresso mingled with the sweetness of your lips, a unique blend that only you could create. In this dream reality, there was no fear, no anxiety, just two people finding comfort in each other's presence.
“What would you like to order?” The Barista on the register repeated.
Startled from his reverie, Mike hastily blurted out his order, "A latte and a mocha, both small!"
Aware of his volume, he flushed with embarrassment, but his impassioned state rendered him indifferent to etiquette. Paying for the drinks without delay, he claimed a seat by the window facing your house, his heart pounding with anticipation.
Despite the glaring sunlight and the parade of cars obscuring his view, Mike strained his eyes to catch sight of you through the window. Your shadowy outline offered solace, indicating that you were safe and sound. In contrast, your brother Gregory appeared increasingly agitated, doodling with shaky hands.
Concerned, you checked on him intermittently, hoping to ease his discomfort.
Your house consumed Mike's attention, leaving him oblivious to the arrival of the drinks. Abby stepped in to retrieve their coffees, presenting Mike with a gentle nudge back to reality.
"How's yours?" she inquired, attempting to break his trance. Snapped out of his daydream, Mike took a sip and confirmed, "Yeah, it's good." Almost immediately, his gaze returned to the reflection of your house in the mirror.
Fixated on your home, Mike caught a glimpse of you speaking on the phone, setting off a barrage of questions in his mind. Who were you speaking to? Was there someone else in your life? Dismissing the thought of a secret partner, he rationalized that he would have detected indicators of such-jewelry, perhaps a ring. Unless…
"You seem to like that house," Abby observed, taking a sip of her latte.
“I like the design. You know I wanted to be a—“
"Contractor," Abby concluded, and Mike nodded vigorously. His fascination with architecture was well-known, but the true extent of his infatuation remained shrouded in mystery.
"Hopefully, you'll get to live in a beautiful home someday, Abby," Mike responded earnestly, his stare fixed on the distant house. While not prone to overt displays of emotion, his wishes for her happiness emanated sincerely. He genuinely cherishes his sister.
"I hope you do too," Abby whispered, her tone laced with warmth. Pondering whether this excursion sprang from simple brotherly camaraderie rather than anything sinister, she allowed herself a flicker of optimism.
Though his gaze remained trained on your place, the tenderness in Abby's voice elicited a faint smile from Mike.
"Let's get a better look," she proposed, rising from her seat.
Inside, Mike wrestled with uncertainty, questioning the wisdom of their actions. Nonetheless, the need to observe you closely trumped his reservations, justifying this intrusion into your privacy.
“I like how you think.” He replied, following his sister out of the coffee shop.
Fortuitously, the absence of traffic allowed Mike to traverse the street without incident, his impulsive stride mirroring a moth drawn to a flickering flame. Unaware of the potential danger, he followed you with unwavering determination, guided by an insatiable curiosity.
While Abby visualized herself residing in such a picturesque abode, lost in dreams of interior decor, Mike scrutinized the property, seeking vulnerabilities. Numerous avenues of entry loomed ominously, igniting a protective instinct within him. The last thing Mike wanted was for a total stranger to be near your house.
Fixated on identifying threats, Mike scanned the landscape from left to right. His focus alighted upon a window, likely your room, taunting him with easy access. Steeling himself against temptation, he decided to not to cross that line- at least, for now.
The sudden noise of crunchy leaves being stomped upon immediately made Mike walk away from the property as he forced Abby out of there, yet his eyes analyzed the new stranger, walking cluelessly at your house with a box of Pizza at hand.
Relief washed over Mike as his insecurities dissolved, only to be supplanted by irritation at the presumed flirtatiousness of the pizza delivery boy. Perhaps he was overreacting, yet his protective instincts screamed for confrontation, longing to rain down retribution upon the perceived transgressor.
Yet, Mike resisted allowing his fury to dictate his actions. With a renewed sense of purpose, he hastily departed from the scene. Your safety brought him solace, but your home's vulnerability haunted him.
As the clock struck 10:30 pm, Mike found himself unable to sleep, despite having ingested more than the recommended dose of his sleeping pills. Typically, these medications ensured a swift descent into slumber, but tonight, they failed to deliver their usual sedative effect.
Despite the meticulously arranged bedding, the soft hum of nature sounds, and the impeccably positioned Nebraska poster, Mike's restlessness persisted. Could it be that thoughts of you encroached upon his subconscious? Unsure of how to quell his turbulent emotions, he lay awake, grappling with his feelings.
At 11:16 am, the silence of the night echoed through. In this deserted hour, as others slumbered, Mike contemplated a surreptitious visit. Perhaps, under the cloak of darkness, he could safeguard your sanctuary from unseen threats.
Wrapping himself in a mantle of darkness, Mike donned a black cap, hoodie, and athletic bottoms - attire atypical for him. Mike did this to devise an alibi. if someone sees him making sure you're safe (which he knows in the sight of strangers it might look weird) he can just say he was exercising. Perfect solution.
Mike walked on his tippy toes, making sure to make no noise, as he grabbed his keys and made sure the house was locked tightly. Locks secure, keys in hand, he commenced the engine.
Despite the pill-induced haze clouding his senses, his concentration sharpened as he navigated deserted streets, only semi-trailers punctuating his journey. Finally arriving at your residence, he prepared to watch over you from the shadows.
The closer Mike got to you, the more his heart raced, pumping blood like a freight train against his ribcage. Every step he took brought forth a flurry of emotions - excitement mingled with anxiety, fear intertwined with anticipation. The fine line between obsession and love blurred in his mind, and it fueled him further into the unknown.
He stopped mere feet away from the window of your room. Peering through the glass pane, he could see the faint silhouette of you under the covers, sleeping peacefully. A wave of relief washed over him, replacing the earlier dread with a strange sense of satisfaction.
He watched you breathe rhythmically, your chest rising and falling gently with each breath. Despite the late hour, there was something comforting about seeing you safe and sound.
His fingers traced the cold surface of the glass, feeling its smooth texture against his palm. A mix of longing and protectiveness swelled within him, making his chest tighten. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed next to you, hold you close, and keep you safe from all harm. Yet, he knew better than to disturb your slumber. This was as close as he dared get.
Mike's heart pounded in his chest as the lights flickered on inside the house. His instincts kicked in, propelling him into the nearest hiding spot - a cluster of dense bushes. He pressed himself against the cool ground, hoping to remain unseen.
What could have caused you to switch on the lights so suddenly? Were you disturbed by something? Or did you have a nightmare?
In the glow of the moonlight, he could see you standing by the window, looking out into the night. Your posture seemed tense and your hoodie confirmed it.
There was an unmistakable air of distress around you, which resonated deeply with Mike's own experiences. Could it be possible that you were going through something similar?
A wave of empathy surged through Mike. He wanted nothing more than to comfort you, to offer you a shoulder to lean on, a warm embrace to banish your fears away. But he knew better than to intrude on your privacy. Instead, he stayed hidden, watching over you from the darkness, praying silently for your well-being.
As you emerged from the room, Mike hesitated briefly. His instincts screamed at him to hide, to disappear into the shadows before being discovered. But something within him rebelled, urging him forward. Before he could think twice, he was lifting the window sash, the squeaky hinge echoing in the silence of the night.
Once inside, he hurriedly shut the window, heart pounding wildly in his chest. He knew this was reckless, yet it felt necessary. As he scanned the slightly messy room, his eyes fell upon the forgotten spot beneath the bed - a haven of security amidst uncertainty. Without giving it a second thought, he squeezed himself underneath, his body brushing against discarded clothes and half-filled notebooks.
In this cramped space, he listened closely for any signs of detection. Sweat trickled down his forehead, mingling with the grit and dust from the floor. He felt exposed yet strangely protected, like a child playing hide and seek.
"Sorry," he whispered under his breath, hoping you would understand his intentions.
Mike was already anxious, the adrenaline of being in your room and the effects of the dosage made him a panicked mess.
The sound of you entering the room sent a ripple of dread through Mike. His heart pounded against his ribcage, beating out an erratic rhythm that threatened to give him away. Sweat dripped from his brow, pooling in the dimly lit corner where he lay concealed. His breath hitched in his throat, each gasp amplified in the quiet space.
When you moved closer to the bed, Mike held his breath, bracing for impact. But instead of anger or fear, a scream echoed through the room. Startled, he scrambled back, knocking into a pile of books that had somehow ended up under the bed. Papers rustled and pages fluttered, creating a symphony of noise that seemed deafening in the silent bedroom.
"I'm fucked," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
To be continued…
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Thank you so much for reading. Hope you will support this mini series! xoxo (if you want to be tagged on the next part let me know!)
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yanderestarangel · 1 year ago
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✧ HEADCANONS FNAF | SMUT VERSION | MIKE SCHMIDT
★ TW: afab anatomy, pet names, degradation, dom!mike, v!sex, rough sex, blowjob, overstimulation, little praise.
˚。⋆.☆Do you want to make a request? Read my blog rules in the pinned post, comments and reblogs are welcome♡
★ A/N: some people asked me in inbox if I watched the fnaf movie and the answer is: yes! I watched it with my boyfriend and it was a lot of fun, so I decided to write something about Mike yey >ㅅ<
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✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike is a stressed man, with all the pressure of taking care of his sister, the nightmares and a bad job - which can consume a lot of his energy - he will just want to be in your arms at the end of the day and preferably, between your legs.
✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will arrive home tired, with a smell like men's cologne faint from the hours he spent at work, and a thin layer of sweat covering his face and back, while he desperately looked for you in every corner of the house, shouting your name. Schmidt won't even give you time to ration, as he lifts you onto the nearest firm surface and spreads your thighs - if you were wearing any shorts, he would desperately tear them off while he glues his face to your pussy, lubricating it with saliva and making circular movements with his tongue on your clit, enjoying every moan you made, every time you ran your fingers through his hair - pulling him even closer - Schmidt would moan against your sensitive flesh, looking you in the eyes before continuing to pleasure you.
✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will fuck you all over the house when Abby is out or at school - kitchen, living room, balcony or anywhere that is empty enough - covering your mouth with his hand, while he shoves his thick, pulsing length into you , without any protection. He's the type of man who likes to spill every drop of his seed into your womb, painting your spongy walls pearly white, while grunting and praising you, telling you how good your pussy is for his dick, he likes to call you a "hungry little slut" with each hot jet that comes out of him, while he smiles and growls when he sees your expression of lust.
✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will leave you breathless, pushing you against the cold bathroom sink as he forces you to look in the mirror, you can see the dark circles under his eyes, his naked body against yours, how his cock slides against your wetness easily as he grabs your chin with his fingers - putting enough force to turn the tips white - He would see every reaction, every moan or scream that came out of you through reflection, roughly grabbing your hip with his other hand. His balls would already be wet from your juices with his, while the sounds of skin against skin could be heard echoing out of the room. "-Yes...Ah- Fucking hell my darling, your pussy swallowing my dick... just like that, keep it up please." he moaned hoarsely, as he looked at the sight of your wetness swallowing and repelling his shaft, with each rough thrust he made. "-You're such a good little thing for me, I'm going to give you every last drop of cum, right?"
✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will make you get ready for him, putting on your best clothes, putting on perfume and makeup for him, just for him to fuck you doggystyle on the bed, pulling your hair to expose your neck while deeply marking your soft skin with his teeth - From the intensity of his hips, you could tell how angry he was at everything and everyone that night - you could hear him grunting and grumbling about some pay cut or how he didn't get a promotion to improve your life. He will take out all his anger on your pussy, leaving you a mess, your makeup was smudged, your clothes were messy or even torn in some corner of the room, you were at his mercy, while his fingers roughly rubbed over and over again on your clit - making a delicious combo with each violent thrust deep into your core. He will degrade you while fucking all your tight holes. "-You're my favorite slut." "-You asked for this didn't you? You're a needy whore for my dick- Mmm-" "-You're a cumdump for me, needy and a quivering mess for my dick."
✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will love putting you between his legs, your knees hurt from the weight and hardness of the floor. His dick pulsed as you forced yourself to swallow everything, looking at him relaxing with each provocative yet relaxing and hot movement, while the head of his dick beat rhythmically in your throat. The wet sounds and muffled moans about his member made him grunt, throwing his head back, grabbing your head with his left hand while his right hand held the side of the chair, he was going to encourage you to go deeper. "-Please baby, be a good boy/girl and make me cum... Swallow it all for me ok?"
✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike loves lying in bed completely naked, with his cock exposed to you, while watching you rub your pussy over him, he would be sleepy and tired, but the sight of you rubbing your wet pussy over him, looking for a release for everyone Your repressed lust was enough for him to stay awake for up to a few hours, resting his hands on your hips and squeezing the soft flesh of your ass as he moved down. Their eyes would be seeing the cum leaking from the tip of his dick, his crotch totally dirty, as he smiled at you, closing his eyes. "-Keep having fun baby... I'm here for you."
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©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023
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ast4tarion · 1 year ago
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hi!! hope you’re having a good day:)
i was wondering if you can write a smut where mike is a nerd in college and the popular girl needs to bring her grade up so he tutors her. she would always flirt with him and make him get all nervous. she repays him by giving him a blowjob and you can add anything else to the story if you want!! thank youu
ooooo i havent written anything like this, thank you for a new idea :D ty for the kind words too i hope everyone reading this day is a good one too <3 (god this is way longer then i meant for it to be)
cws; sub!mike, slight dom!reader, virginity taking, blowjob, gender neutral reader, a little messy
“Have you ever had sex with a girl before?”
The question you ask Mike is completely genuine but he stops writing in his tracks, his face visibly flushing red.
The two of you are studying for midterms (actually, more like Mike guiding you through the subjects) together in his dorm, books and papers strewn everywhere at his table.
“I—what?” He really wasn’t expecting you to ask that and he looks almost nervous.
“Have you?” you ask it like it’s the most casual question in the world, flipping your pencil around in your hand.
“Uh….no,” he looks very embarrassed, it’s cute on him. “I haven’t gotten close to anyone like that before, and no one was particularly interested in the guy hiding behind his engineering book.”
You were quite surprised to learn this, in your opinion he was quite the attractive guy.
“Would you be up for an offer then?” His eyes widened, and he let his pencil slide out of his grip completely.
“What kind of offer….?” He said it, but the implication after the topic of conversation was understood between the two of you, but he clearly didn’t believe it.
“Well I’d really like to do something nice for you in return for tutoring me, we’ve already talked about this but I really wish I could pay you but everything’s going to food and tuition right now and I couldn’t ever ask my parents so I was wondering if you’d let me make you feel good instead?” You said.
His entire face was visibly red now with blush, and his gaze dropped and avoided yours as he processed what you were saying. He seemed in total disbelief, his hands tapping the table which you knew was a nervous habit of his.
“I-um, but I-I’ve never done that with anyone? I wouldn’t wanna, um, somehow do it wrong.” He was incredibly sincere and it was quite endearing.
You leaned back in your seat, trying to catch his nervous eyes.
“I’m cool with that, I could even teach you if that would make you feel less nervous? Think of it as…….a tutoring session. Only if you want too though.” His hands found themselves, wringing and thumbing his palm. He was clearly deep in thought and given permission you wanted to wipe that stress from his face. It would be an honour to teach him, after all the exams and quizzes he’d helped you pass.
“Alright…I think I’d, uh, like that. When?” You smiled at his confirmation of consent, excitement and arousal already beginning to build up inside you. You stood up, walking around the desk and sitting on one of his thighs.
“We’ve been studying for a while now, I think this would be a good opportunity to take a break and learn something new.” You put your hands on his chest, your voice dropping in a suggestive way that earned a shiver out of him.
“O-Okay,” he gulped, finally gathering the courage to look at you in front of him. “What’s the first step?”
You leaned in to kiss his neck and he gasped loudly. “First the ground rules. One, if you decide it’s too much we can always stop, alright? Two, tell me if you’re going to cum. Three, listen to your body, Mikey, tell me what feels good.” You purred into his ear, trying to take things slow so he could adjust to them. He quickly nodded, and you starting leaving light kisses down his chest.
As much as you wanted to grind down on his thigh you had an objective: make him cum. You moved off his lap and he watched you the entire time with a mix of nervousness and curiosity in his eyes. You slid to the floor in between his legs as he was seated at his desk.
Your first step was massaging his thighs, getting closer and closer to his dick. Your hand settled over the fly of his jeans, palming the denim and smirking when you felt the bulge it held.
You began unzipping it, speaking as you worked. “First step is to relax, this parts all about you baby boy.” He felt the urge to whimper and aggressively bit it back.
Just the tiny amounts of friction and sultry words you provided had began to work him up. You pulled down his boxers enough for his cock to be freed, hardening at every touch.
He was fairly big, your fingertips just barely met around it when you gave it a couple experimental jerks. He made a little noise at this, and you smiled.
You spit in your hand, spreading the wetness across his length to make it easier. It was clear he was unuse to his own boner, his mouth agape and his hips beginning to shift in the chair.
You started by giving the tip a tiny kiss, followed by short little licks to the head. You flattened your tongue and swirled it all around the head, running your tongue over his sensitive slit.
This gained an immediate reaction, another little noise escaping his mouth followed by his hands gripping his own thighs. You were barely touching him and he was already panting at the sweet sensation.
You took it a little further, pumping the base and farther into your mouth. You were licking the underside of his dick, dragging hot wet stripes further and further down each time. You were halfway down his length, finally taking it all into your mouth and pushing it in until your lips reached your loose fist.
His pants were evolving into full blown moans, his hand white-knuckles gripping his desk. He spread his legs further, hoping to give you more access. Every moan is music to your ears, coming out in little “hnngs…” and “mmmfng…..”
The tip almost reached the back of your throat and there was spit dripping down your chin, mixing with whatever slick he was leaking. You moved forward and back, your tongue sliding wetly and stimulating him. You repeated this, grinding into the floor for any ounce of your own friction.
His cock was a wet mess, and the sounds coming from your mouth became more and more vulgar. Slick-filled wet slaps of skin on skin as your fist pumped faster and faster and your tongue swirled around his girth.
He was getting closer and you could tell because he was absolutely loosing control of himself. He’d been reduced to drawn-out moans and whimpering at how fast you were going; his hips had also started bucking forward, pushing more and more of it into your mouth until you were almost completely swallowing him.
Your own desperation made it even more wet and messy, you drew back and a long string of precum dripped from his tip to your tongue thinly connected. Your gaze was driving him crazy, the combination of your eyes locked on his and the slurping wet kiss you licked up his shaft again.
When your mouth dove back on it you could tell he was getting incredibly close to finishing. His thrusts were becoming sloppy and so pathetic that it was hitting the walls of your cheek and the very back of your throat.
It was ultimately your groan that sent him over the edge, the vibrations sent through your mouth felt all over his cock and it felt so good, so wet, so overwhelming that he barely had time to whimper “fuck, I-I’m going too—!”
His cock throbbed and pulsed as you licked his slit once more, taking it out of your mouth absolutely cockdrunk. It barely took a single pump for him to explode, thick white ropes bursting from his tip and all over your chest.
His head was thrown back and he was panting hard, his cock head was flushed a pretty pink like his blush and it kept twitching, smaller streams erupting until it came to a slow stop.
Your face was a mess of his hot cum and your underwear absolutely soaked through. His eyes were closed and he was still gasping, sighing as he slowly loosened his grip on the desk as he rode out the end of his orgasm.
“Fuck, holy shit, thank you.” He mumbled, still coming down from the adrenaline of finishing. When he did look down he swore he could’ve came a second time, the way your face was lit up by a smile and absolutely drenched in his sticky white seed.
“Of course, if I wanted to teach you about sex I had to make sure you’d at least get to cum before you made someone else do it,” You stood up, standing close to him and running your hand through his pretty brown hair.
“Tomorrow after we finish calculus, I’ll show you how to eat someone out~”
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sameschmidtdiffname · 7 months ago
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Wool Over My Eyes
Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader
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Summery: Mike always says you have such trouble getting up in the morning. You don't intend to take so long to wake, but Mike is quite confident the solution lays just at his fingertips- and lips.
Tags: No use of Y/N, no use of gendered pronouns, no genitalia specification, light bondage, pet names, dirty talk, fingering, oral (reader recieving), cum swallowing, morning sex, light breeding kink, recording sex, dacryphillia, light choking, sub! Mike, dom! Reader, facial, age-gap, interrupted sex.
Notes: GOD, I FINALLY FUCKING WROTE. I'm not even gonna blab, just read this shit.
▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎
"C'mere here, sweet thing."
Keep reading
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freak-accident419 · 3 months ago
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Movie Night
Josh Futturman x GN!Reader
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Summary: An hour into a movie that Josh practically begged you to watch with him, the two of you end up fucking. Various interruptions occur, but that didn’t stop you from having a great time.
Word Count: 2.6k
Content: 18+ Smut, MDNI, gender-neutral reader, no specific genitalia for reader, oral (m!receiving), riding/cowgirl, missionary, sex on the floor, Josh is a silly nerd, slight fluff, silly sex/goofy smut #3: the silliness, Josh makes you watch an important scene in the middle of sex, you two fall off the bed :3
(A/n: this is my birthday gift to the lovely @wemnui!! ilyily sm girl, i hope this brightens your very special day <3 thank you to @stop-talking for this idea ehehehe :3 and thank you to everyone for your help, support, and love. enjoy!)
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“I’m telling you, Y/n, it’s the most important movie in the entire franchise!” Your boyfriend, Josh, exclaims eagerly as he selects a film with the TV remote.
“Yeah, you’ve said that, like, a gazillion times already,” you chuckle softly, “I promised you I’d watch it with you already, didn’t I?”
Josh Futturman being your partner meant a lot of things: having to hear his constant video game/movie references, clingy cuddles, spontaneous and unlikely events, and genuine, sincere love. But with the complete Josh Futturman Package (or rather ‘Bundle,’ he preferred), it also came with his reluctant urge to introduce you to and ramble about his dorky interests. And you found it endearing, to say the least, seeing how passionate he could be about multiple things. It was extremely adorable to you to see him rant about the most random things, from epic sci-fi movies to the mediocrity of Super Mario Bros, that you practically viewed it as his own love language. Sure, kisses and cuddles and sex were all great, but you could hear him talk his mouth off about Biotic Wars for several days in a row. Which is what led you to this moment, essentially.
The two of you would frequently spend time indoors for movie nights, snuggled up in your bedsheets in the dark where the brilliant light from the screen illuminated your faces. Tonight, you were watching a movie that Josh had always been excited to show you for a while. The two of you, like always, laid comfortably on your mattress, covered warmly in your sheets as the movie began to play in front of you. Throughout the film, you watched intently, nodding at Josh’s comments, half of the time pretending to comprehend what he was talking about—it got a bit confusing, but you were willing to try to understand it for him.
Halfway into the movie, you felt a bit tired than usual, which made you curious since it wasn’t even that late in the night. Then you figured it was just the bright screen that overwhelmed your eyes. So you shifted your position to avoid falling asleep, yet ended up placing a leg over Josh’s from the side, his thigh now in between yours. And he didn’t notice, of course, as he was too fixated on the screen.
Even the slightest touch had adjusted your breathing. And it hasn’t even been a long time since you’ve had sex with your boyfriend, so you just figured you were turned on by how close you were to him.
Grunting quietly, you needed to pull your leg back to yourself, but instead, you would accidentally and briefly grind your crotch against his thigh.
Even the slightest touch had turned you on.
Fuck this, you thought.
You leaned in, beginning to pepper kisses across Josh’s neck, your lips lingering on the skin.
“What are y—mmmm,” he hums softly in pleasure as he feels you nibble on his sensitive areas, which was sure to leave red and purple marks.
“Baby,” you began breathlessly between each nip, “I’m lovin’ this movie, like, a lot. It’s as good as you’ve claimed, and I appreciate all of your info dumps and adorable little rambles about it, but,” you pant heavily, “fuck… I need you, baby… so bad…” Okay. So maybe kisses and cuddles and sex were just as great as his nerdy rambles.
“Shit—” Josh whined, grabbing your face firmly with his soft hands and pressed his lips desperately against yours.
Moving onto Josh’s lap, you blocked the TV from his view with your body as his hands shifted down to grip your waist. “Mph—” you tried to feel for the remote on the nightstand without breaking the kiss, stretching out your arm, “we can pause it—”
“Babe, I’ve memorized all the piss breaks in this movie.” Josh glances quickly at the TV behind you, then looked back at you. “And thankfully, it looks like we’re not gonna miss anything anytime soon,” he interjects eagerly, encapsulating your lips in a deeper kiss. God, how you were head over heels for this stupid nerd.
You began to help him remove his sweatpants, tugging them off his legs and throwing them on the ground. Your hands caressed his thighs in anticipation, pressing soft kisses to the skin. Your nibbles turned into soft biting then sucking, leaving hickeys as you saw the tight tent in his boxers.
Josh whimpered as you continued nipping his flesh, finally holding onto the waistband of his underwear go pull it off, his hard cock springing out instantly. Grinning to yourself, you began to place your hand over his shaft, slowly stroking him up and down.
“G-god… f-fuck…” Josh moans as his marked up thighs slightly trembled under you, his eyes half-lidded at the sensation. Your thumb reached up towards the pink, throbbing tip, smearing the slick precum around his slit, and gaining another higher-pitched noise from him. Then you finally held onto his plush thighs, squeezing them lightly in your palms as you took his cock in your mouth.
“A-ahh, Y/n—fuck,” he whined, placing his hands in your hair, tugging desperately at the strands as you slowly bobbed your head up and down, letting your tongue run along his length. His cock was the perfect size for you, and you admired him and his body so dearly, making sure that he knew exactly that with the help of your actions.
You pulled off briefly, releasing an arousing string of saliva between your lips and his glistening wet cock. Your hand moved back up to stimulate his length again as you moved your lips down to mouth his balls, licking and sucking at the soft skin. Josh bit his bottom lip intensely before your mouth switched places with your hand once again, wrapping it back around his shaft. “Shhhit—fuck!” He cries softly, now forcing your head down with his grip on your hair, lifting his hips up to thrust harshly into your mouth. You moaned at this, sending satisfying vibrations throughout his entire body, yet also gagged quietly from the sudden control.
He held your head tightly with his fingers tangled in your strands, pushing it down and thrusting desperately into your mouth. “Shit—” he whimpers frantically, his breathing becoming unstable as he let out several uneven pants. “Y/n! Fuck! Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, fuck—!”
The two of you moaned loudly as you felt exuberant ropes of his warm, white semen spurt deeply into your mouth, your nose pressed against his pelvis as you swallowed his entire release. Your lips that were wrapped around his cock continued to move along his length in order to help him ride his high.
“Fuck…” he muttered, pulling off his shirt desperately, then reaching for yours until your clothes were sprawled out messily and carelessly on the floor, the two of you completely naked with each other. Josh positioned you over his lap, lining up his hard, throbbing cock with your entrance. Then you finally sank down on him, feeling his shaft slightly stretch your hole, your walls wrapping around him soothingly.
“Oh, fuuuck,” you moan out, pressing your lips against his passionately, gently cupping his face in affection. Your foreheads were pressed together once you slowly began to rock your hips against his, letting his cock push further and further into you with every deep movement.
“Oh, shit—” Josh whines as your hands find his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life as you moved faster, practically bouncing on his dick. With every moment you sank down, your sensitive parts would grind against his firm pelvic bone, moaning from the pleasing and granting sensation. Your overlapping sounds of lust and arousal created a beautifully lewd symphony. As you rode him relentlessly, he cupped your ass firmly in one hand and grasped at your waist with the other, guiding your rapid movements on his cock.
As your body slammed down against him, his length caressing your sensitive walls with every thrust, the wet sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the small room. Your gaze on each other had stilled lustfully as you indulged in the noise of the fast, erotic pounding.
Suddenly, Josh slightly froze, and at the time, you couldn’t tell if he either saw or heard the movie scene from behind you, but he scrambled for the remote and seized your movements desperately. “Wait, wait, wait, fuck!” He whined as he rewinded the film, making you look back at the screen in utter confusion.
“Josh, what the hell—”
“This is the most important part of the whole movie!” He exclaims stressfully, making you pout as you sat vacantly on his cock, his length still deep inside of you.
“Josh—”
“Sh-sh-sh—Just watch!” He hushed, unpausing the movie, increasing the volume before setting the remote down.
A few minutes passed by as the two of you watched in this position.
And then…
“Holy shit!” You shouted in surprise, seeing Josh’s beaming expression. “What?!”
“I know,” he chuckles.
“You’re telling me—You’re telling me he dies?!”
“Yeah—”
“But—But he’s the most important character in the movie! Hell, he’s the main character, I don’t—” you scoff, yet with a slight, amused grin. “I mean, does it really end like that?! Him being killed by his stupid fuckin’ clone?!”
“Well, technically, yeah,” Josh shrugged.
“Shit,” you huffed, raising an eyebrow as the scene continued to play out, concluding with the end credits. Your boyfriend then paused the movie with the remote, looking at you with a soft, anticipatory grin.
“So…? What did you think?”
“That was… awesome, baby,” you giggle.
“Yeah? Wait, wait, seriously? You’re not just saying that because I love it, right?” He stammers before you cut him off with a deep, sweet kiss.
“It was genuinely amazing, my love,” you confirmed warmly.
“God, I fucking love you,” he grins, pushing you down on your back near the edge of the bed, pressing his lips against your mouth and then to your neck. “You’re, like, the coolest person ever,” he mumbles in between each affectionate nip before moving into you again.
“Ah, fuck—!” You whine softly as his cock fills you up again, moving at a much faster pace to begin with. Your legs involuntarily wrap around his back as Josh struggles to push even deeper inside of you. “Ah! J-Josh! H-Holy fuck!”
The bed began to creak and shake violently as the two of you moved together passionately together, striving to be even closer to each other. Your breathless moans filled the room as the sound of his cock ramming into your tight hole persisted.
“O-oh, fuck!” Josh cries as he continued deeply and swiftly ravaging your insides, desperately attempting to reach your sweet spot. His fingernails sink into your hips as you moan, legs tightening around him to bring him closer until the two of you rolled off the bed.
You two fell off the goddamn bed.
Josh was still inside of you, yet you were there lying on top of him. You stared at each other for a while before bursting out in blissful and elated laughter, burying your face in Josh’s neck. “Oh my fucking god,” you wheeze, pressing your lips affectionately to his skin.
“You’re so perfect…” he whispers softly, disregarding the embarrassing moment the two of you had, stroking your hair gently. “How did I get so lucky to have you?”
“Honestly?” You chuckle, lifting up your head to face him. “It was your sad, big hazel eyes and loser, cringefail personality that truly captivated me.”
Josh snickered, grabbing your face gently in his hands to peck your lips. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m ridiculous?” You scoff lightheartedly. “You’re the one who paused our literal fucking because I missed a scene in that nerd movie.”
“What? I thought you said you liked it,” he pouted.
You kissed his pout away. “Doesn’t mean it’s not nerdy.” You watched him frown and kissed him again. “But you know what? You’re my nerd. I love you.”
He was completely smitten with you, a red blush painted softly over his freckles. “I know.”
A Star Wars reference? Is he fucking joking? “If you don’t say it back, Han Solo, I’ll move off your dick and get off in the bathroom by myself.”
“No, no, no!” He whines, pressing his lips against yours passionately, slipping his tongue in your mouth to deepen it. “I love you too,” he mumbles.
Finally, you sat up, supporting yourself with your hands on Josh’s chest, his cock still snug inside of you. You watched his hands grip your waist as you finally started to move against him, slowly and sweetly this time.
“Fuck…” he whispers, trying to move his hips with yours as his length thrusted in and out of your needy hole. As you began to ride him, his dick would slide so easily and satisfyingly inside of you, brushing your walls with pleasure and warmth.
“Oh, yes…” you moan gently. “Oh, fuck…”
The two of you remained on the floor, your hips beginning to move faster after each thrust. Josh’s back arched as he pushed himself deeper inside of you, filling your hole completely. “Fuck,” he mutters.
“Josh! O-oh! Oh, fuck, baby…” your sweet sounds escaped your lips as your hips slammed into each other in unison, urgently bouncing on his hard, throbbing cock. “Ah-ahhh!”
You felt yourself getting closer, your own thighs trembling as Josh’s movements faltered. You placed your hand on the ground beside his head and lowered the rest of your body down to connect each other’s lips. You tasted him enthusiastically, kissing him with so much passion and lust while your movements began to stutter.
“I—fuck, I’m so close,” you mutter in between hot kisses.
“Mmm—fuck, Y/n, me too,” he whimpers, hips still trying to move up inside of you.
“Shit—cum for me,” you whisper gently as you were about to reach your release, “cum for me, baby…”
And just like that, your low, passionate words sent him right to the fucking edge.
“Ah—Y/n—Fuuuck!” He moaned loudly, arching his hips up as he pressed yours down against him, releasing deeply and heavily inside of you. His hot, thick cum painted your walls entirely, filling up your hole so generously in explosive bursts. The overwhelming, arousing feeling had prompted you to cum immediately right after him, holding his body close and tight to yours as you clenched around him completely. Instantly, your lips were reattached to yours, going limp and collapsing on top of him in exhaustion.
The two of you laid there on the floor, extremely spent, panting heavily and catching your breath. Strands of your hair were stuck to your sweaty foreheads as your heart beat almost rapidly.
“You… You’re amazing…” Josh mumbles with a giddy, flushed smile on his face.
You chuckled in response, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “Silly,” you mutter out, moving your head to rest it on his bare chest, getting a view of his belongings or junk under the bed. And then… “Is that—” Scoffing in awe, you stretched your arm out and grabbed a DVD case. “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Season 4? Babe, wh—”
“Hey, hey, that’s—” he stresses, throwing the case far away and out of your grasp. “That’s uh… That’s not mine.”
“Well, then who’s is it?” You raise an eyebrow with teasing grin.
Josh pauses then groaned in utter defeat. “Fine! Fine, it’s uh… it’s mine.” Before you could laugh or make another comment, he interjects, “But you don’t understand the very complicated and intricate lore of the whole series, okay? Sure, it seems like any other children’s cartoon full of mindless fillers and fluff pieces, but there’s so much more than that! Arguably, those ponies have gone through so much hell, and it’s like—you know?”
You smirked playfully, cupping the side of his face with one hand. “So what, are you gonna start forcing me to watch the whole series too?”
“No! No… I mean… It would be cool—but no!” He stammers hesitantly.
Your eyebrows relaxed as your grin widens. “Yeah, well… doesn’t matter either way because I already watched the whole series.”
His eyes widened, almost comically.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously,” you nod.
Josh pauses then let out a loud, yet delighted groan.
“Fuck, how could you get any more perfect for me?!”
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etfrin · 1 year ago
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↳ ❝Headcanons (bf! edition) | Mike Schmidt | SFW❞ˎˊ-
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[after the events of the movie] | masterlist | request |
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Mike Schmidt x GN! Reader
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dating this chronic exhausted security dude would include:
Late Night Dates on the nights when he just couldn't sleep or he wakes up earlier than usual
He cooks you and Abby breakfast every morning despite it being something simple such as cereals [sometimes you wake up early to make something a bit more fancier than toast and bacon and he loves you so much for it]
Abby would keep telling Mike to marry you before you realize that he's a loser [Mike has the same fears but he would never tell you that]
On the days he's more sleep deprived than usual, he would constantly snap at you
He's good at groveling, gives you flowers as a sorry, would give you space, would cook for you (and fail)
A cuddler, he loves to have you in his arms as he sleeps. The feel of your body, your arms around him (he is a switch) ans his arms around you
The nights he cuddles you are the nights that are dreamless and perfect for him
You guys do breakup once
It takes months of self improvement before Mike even thinks of asking you out again
He is so much better than before, not just for you or Abby but for himself
He starts doing jobs that wouldn't need much interaction with human beings (my ideal job)
You move in with him after a few months of getting back together
He would be much more less snappish than before
Now whenever he gets mad, he calmly tells you he needs some space
Eventually both of you work out all the ticks that make the relationship work
Both of you spend the weekends watching movies with Abby (i feel like Abby would love horror movies)
Lunch dates with Mike while Abby is in school
Mike is into praise so whenever you compliment him on something, he literally brightens up so much
Has the prettiest smile and the cutest laugh (i don't make the rules, it is what it is)
Finally talks to you about his trauma, you cry when you hear everything he went through
You get so overprotective of him after that, praising him, helping him with Abby and everything
Starts having dreams of marrying you and eventually proposes (Abby tells you about the ring beforehand)
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A/N : gonna write more about him! promise <3
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r04dk1llx2 · 7 months ago
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Begging For It *ੈ✩‧₊˚
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This came to me suddenly, out of absolutely nowhere, so enjoy it.
Pairing: Clapton Davis x GN!Reader
Word Count: 1.3K
Summary: You get to peg Clapton Davis. That’s it. That’s the story.
Tags: GN!reader (use of ‘mommy’ is the only gendered term), Dom!reader, Sub!Clapton, pegging, strap-on penetration, anal, nipple clamps, vibrating cock ring, whiny Clapton (as usual), premature ejaculation (he’s touch starved and horny be nice to him), praise, degradation, overstimulation, thigh-highs, very brief choking, average early 2000s teenager room setup, don’t talk about the fact that Ayesha didn’t produce music in that timeframe…
The harsh moonlight from your open window shines along his skin, illuminating the thin sheen of sweat covering his toned body. You were balls deep in Clapton Davis, the schools resident jackass.
“f-fuuuuck—! don’t stop-!” Your room is entirely filled with his moans, even drowning out the sound of the Ayesha Erotica track that he had playing on your speaker. Clapton was never one to be quiet.. being in bed with him was no different.
You thrust slowly, holding his hips as he groans into the fuzzy pink pillow beneath him. He looked entirely fucked out, his hair messy and stuck to his forehead, his necklaces tangled and his shirt pulled up to expose his chest, not to mention the black thigh highs you convinced him to wear for you. You gently pull at his hair, forcing him to look back at you.
He’s already drooling, long eyelashes fluttering as he looks back at you with a dumb grin, the chain connecting the nipple clamps you had put on him earlier jingling each time you push into him.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, pretty boy?” You purr, his hole clenching around you as soon as he hears that nickname. He nods frantically, lips parted slightly as he lets out a sharp whimper.
You pick up the pace, causing him to loose balance as you slam into him. He’s panting, a total mess beneath you as you bring your hand to hold his head down against the bed, your other hand reaching down to pump his painfully hard cock.
He yelps, hips bucking into your fist as soon as you make contact with his length. His thighs tense, his muscles showing under those sheer black thigh highs.
“Ghh—! m-mommy—!” He sobs, babbling incoherently, completely dumbed down by your dick. He whines loudly, eyes rolling back as you slam into his prostate.
It only takes a few more thrusts against his sweet spot for him to moan, his dick twitching hard in your hand before immediately shooting a load out against his stomach, coating your zebra print sheets in the process. He was never one to last long, got himself too excited and worked up.
He cries out, panting hard as you continue to move, only slowing down enough for him to catch his breath. He’s insatiable.
“Already cumming so soon, baby?”
“M’sorry—“ He pants, still rocking his hips back against you. “Please- keep going— need it-“
You nod, slipping your cock out as you turn him onto his back. He looks.. embarrassed, completely flushed, but turned on.
“Good boy… think you can cum again for me? Make your mommy proud?”
He nods pathetically, his hips rolling against the air, desperate for contact again. You grin down at him, reaching down to grab the chain connecting his clamps, tugging at it, watching his expression contort in a mixture of pain and pleasure.
“Fucking whore. Of course you’d be more than happy to cum again.” You spit, snapping the elastic of his thigh highs against his skin. He lets out a choked sob, tears pricking in his eyes from the overstimulation. “Stay there.”
You briefly get up, rummaging around the bedside drawer before pulling out a bright pink ring. You hold it up, waving it teasingly infront of his face as you climb back ontop of him, kneeling between his thighs.
“You know what this is, don’t you, baby?” You hum, watching his pupils dilate.
“u-uhm… a cock ring..?” Clapton stammers, nervously biting his lip. His cock twitches from the thought of you using it on him alone.
“Mhm.. that’s right. This one vibrates, it’s gonna keep you nice and hard while I fuck you.” You murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his thigh, slowly slipping the cock ring onto his hardening dick. He whimpers, cock twitching at the sensation, a small bead of precum already forming at his slit.
“God, you’re such a slut…” You scoff, grabbing the bottle of lube that had been set aside on the end of the bed, pumping a generous amount on your hand before stroking yourself. Once you’re fully coated and lubed up, you guide his hips up and press back against his ass, feeling it immediately take you in.
He groans once you slide back in, knowing you hadn’t turned on the vibrating function to his cock ring just yet. His gaze meets yours, full of lust and a twinge of anticipation in those big puppy eyes.
“Mommy…?”
“F-fuck- what? you want that turned on already? are you that desperate to cum again?” You grunt, slowly pumping in and out of him, sweat already forming on your brow. He nods, looking a little embarrassed.
You sigh, a small smirk escaping your lips before you press the side button of the ring, feeling it vibrate to life. Clapton whines, hips bucking again as you hold his thighs, thrusting harder. He already looked close.
With how loud he is, you can barely register the music that’s still filling your bedroom, as if you could even think of anything aside from Clapton at this point. He looks so pretty… lips soft and puffy from earlier, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, a deep blush covering his freckled cheeks.
“Fuck me harder- p-please-! feels s’good—“
He’s begging again, how cute. You oblige, ramming deeper and deeper into his ass, the bright pink of the dildo connected to your strap-on sliding in and out of his pretty little hole, how he managed to take this much up the ass? No clue, but you weren’t one to judge.
After a few moments of listening to him babble incoherently, you turn up the vibrations on his cock ring, causing him to sob out in pleasure. His cock looked pathetic, all red and overstimulated, but still rock hard and leaking everywhere. As if he didn’t already leak all over this bed, you’ve got to wash those sheets later..
You reach down to grab his throat, applying just enough pressure to make him see stars as you fuck him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. You feel his legs wrap around your torso, the sensation of his thigh highs rubbing against your sides as he pulls you in closer.
“Cmon, Clapton… cum for me, be a good boy and cum” You pant, leaning in to kiss him, darting your tongue out to wet his painfully chapped lips. He almost instantly complies, parting his lips so you could deepen the kiss, letting your tongues dance as you thrust harder and harder into him.
He whimpers and moans into your mouth, stifling himself as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. You hear his voice go up an octave, and his legs begin to tremble, his nails digging into your back as you feel a sudden sensation shoot up against your stomach.
You pull back, a string of saliva connecting your lips as you hear him panting heavily under you, his eyes shut a his mouth still slightly open.
“Good boy… Such a good boy..” You whisper, peppering soft kisses along his jaw, slowly moving down to his shoulders. You let the ring continue to vibrate, but pull yourself out slowly, eliciting a high pitched whine from the pretty boy underneath you.
“mmhh- fuck— t-thank you, mommy—“ He breathes out, slowly opening his eyes, a mess of sweat and tears covering his soft skin. You wipe his cheeks, smiling softly down at him.
“mm-hmm.. of course, baby, I love yo—“
Knock. Knock.
“Y/N?? Did Clapton come over? You know we don’t want your friends over this late at night!”
Suddenly, a knock on your bedroom door, accompanied by the voice of.. who you could only assume was your parents, of course it was your parents, you haven’t moved out yet. You stare down at Clapton, his eyes were wide, and frankly, so were yours. You can barely make out the words over the mix of music and the vibrating of Claptons cock ring..
“oh fuck-“
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joshfutturman · 4 months ago
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the way im going absolutely fucking CRAZY over him rn.
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random-fandom-tandem · 1 year ago
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Mike Schmidt: Dating Headcanons
Because this guy hasn't left my brain since seeing the movie a few days ago, and I finally broke down and had to do something about it.
18+ only
Minors DNI
GN!Reader
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Sweet (SFW):
❤️ Can be a bit overprotective at times. Given that he still blames himself for his brother's disappearance, though, it's understandable. While he doesn't admit it out loud, he's uncertain he could handle it if something terrible happened to you too.
❤️ Having grown accustomed to being up at night, due to his recent security job, on the nights he's off and is able to find someone to watch Abby, he'll sometimes invite you for an evening drive. His hand remains on your thigh nearly the entire time, occasionally giving it a gentle squeeze, as you two sit in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the soft music on the radio.
❤️ Is actually pretty lenient when it comes to what is chosen for movie night. He's more happy to just have some needed downtime with you. Also, cuddling during the movie is almost always guaranteed. (Please give him some, the poor man needs it.)
❤️ Got a little annoyed with you one time after you borrowed his walkman and forgot to swap back the cassette tape to his nature sounds one. Cue him getting startled one night when he turned it to help him sleep, only to be greeted with whatever pop or rock idol you had been listening to beforehand. Being that it was an honest mistake, he couldn't stay mad at you...but he never lent you his walkman ever again. (On the flipside, though, he did gift you one of your own for your birthday.)
Spicy (NSFW):
🔥 When it comes to sex, he typically lasts one round, just because he's often so tired, but he tries his best to make sure it counts. Even if he's exhausted, he will try to make up for it with lots of kisses and soft words.
🔥 Exception being when he's extremely pent up or needs to release some frustration after a bad night at work. During those times, you can expect at least 2-3 rounds out of him. He starts out with a rather quiet intensity, focused on just getting rid of that mounted tension, but the volume of his groans increases the closer he gets to finishing.
🔥 On the mornings when he ends up waking up earlier and doesn't have to go anywhere, he actually enjoys sleepy lovemaking. During those times he just wants to hold you close (and/or to be inside you, if applicable) even if you two don't move very much.
🔥 Expanding on an earlier headcanon, car sex is absolutely a thing. He likes the privacy it offers, and will often just park at some abandoned spot where it can just be you and him, with no outside interruptions. He's barely put the car in park before you are straddling his lap, furiously making out with him and rubbing yourself up against his hardening cock. Next thing you both know, hours have passed. Uh, he didn't need to be at work that night...right?
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sleepyhutcherson · 7 months ago
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while we were getting high
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“how many special people change? how many lives are living strange? where were you while we were getting high?” — ‘champagne supernova’ by oasis.
pairing: clapton davis x gn!reader
word count: 1.1k words
summary: where clapton and you get high almost every weekend except this time some words are exchanged.
tags: fluff, smoking, underage smoking, marijuana use (not mentioned though), honestly the smoking part isn’t really in detail but they’re high, best friends to lovers, oasis being praised and blur hate (i do not condone!), use of y/n, feelings being confessed sort of?
author’s note: i should be working on requests but i really had to urge to write for clapton since there is barely any content for him. why am i writing a fic about smoking when i have asthma. there’s brief discussion/debate about which of two bands are better (the bands being oasis and blur) but is that worth tw? like i feel like some people (by what ive seen) can take that stuff really seriously but i really don’t mean any hate towards oasis nor especially blur, i simply think that clapton would definitely be the type of guy to get into a debate over bands, or which band is better in this case, but don’t take anything seriously!
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Your focus is not on Clapton’s rambling, instead you’re drawn to the familiar glow in the dark stars that stick to his ceiling within the many band posters he stuck up there. You’ve counted these stars several times before as this wasn’t your first time getting high in his bedroom.
You groan when you hear the same song start again from Clapton’s Ipod. He was the type of person that would obsess over a song and play it nonstop until he grew tired of it. His latest victim: ‘Champagne Supernova’ by Oasis. You don’t know how he hasn’t grown tired of listening to it on repeat, I mean, you have already! “Do we really have to listen to it again?” You whine, shifting around uncomfortably in his twin sized bed. The two of you were pressed up against each other, it was incredibly uncomfortable and yet you both always ended up in his bed for some reason.
A dumb smile curls up on his lips that you manage to catch briefly before returning your gaze back at his stupid ceiling. You don’t know why your heart quickens but you blame it on the amount of weed you smoked. I mean, it was probably that. “Yes, come on, Y/N, this is music! Real music.”
“‘Real music’?” You question, only to piss him off. A part of you liked seeing him angry, honestly. And you knew just how to push his buttons.
“Yeah. Unless you can name a better band.” Clapton challenges with an arrogant voice.
You could name so many other bands that have had a better discography than Oasis but you choose to name the band that you knew would rile him up. With a grin on your lips now you answer with what he would consider the worst band to name in this scenario.
“Blur.”
The words strike Clapton. Maybe he was being dramatic but honestly he found your choice offensive. He props himself on his elbows, no longer laying down completely. His face is scrunched up with slight disgust and confusion, an expression that resembles a child who’s just had a taste of a lime. “Blur?” He says with disgust in the word.
“Yeah,” you reply with a calm attitude. “They’re pretty good.” You continue to look up at the ceiling but Christ would you love to see the look on his face. “Better than Oasis.” You add for good measure.
You don’t know what reaction you expected from him, or well you did. You figured he would go on a long rant you wouldn’t be able to escape about how Oasis was in fact better than Blur. You did not, however, expect him to get on top of you, it’s so swift and sudden that you don’t even know how to respond. He pins your hands on either side of your head, your eyes now meeting his dark, mischievous eyes. Was he…grinning?!
Now you’re confused.
“Oh, come on, Y/N,” he teases, his body pressed up against yours. This is…not good. It feels good, sure, but Clapton was on top of you. Clapton, your best friend who you’ve known since grade seven. “We both know you’re just saying that to get a reaction from me.”
His hands grip onto your wrist, holding you in place. It doesn’t hurt, or maybe you just liked how he held you down. “Am I?” You play along, acting dumb.
His grin only deepens, his eyes frantically flickering from your eyes to your lips, your own eyes glued to his pretty pink lips. Fuck this wasn’t good. “You are,” his voice is deep now, a tease in his tone.
Before you know it, he’s inching closer to you. His fucking grin mocking you. “Clapton, we—“ shouldn’t, you think about saying but fuck, fuck, fuck his lips were grazing the skin of your neck now, his warm breath tickling you a bit. And that stupid song was still playing!
His thumb softly traces circles around one of your wrist. A part of you wishes your hands weren’t restrained down so you could tangle one in his hair. “We what?” He asks, his breath hitting your delicate skin.
“We—“ you can’t even finish. He doesn’t let you, his lips gently pressing a soft kiss against your neck, one that makes you tense up. Such an innocent kiss and yet that locked you. He continues to pepper gentle kisses on your neck, it’s so pure and sweet, especially when you feel his smile in each kiss.
“I’ve wanted this for so long now,” he admits before continuing to kiss your neck, his thumb continuing to trace around your wrists.
“You have?” You ask. A part of you thinks about telling him that you’ve secretly wanted this too for a bit now.
He stops to look at you now, his cocky grin replaced by a gentle smile. He nods with such a soft expression on his face. “Mm-hmm. I thought about what it would be like to kiss you every day, even while we were getting high.”
A crimson colour tints your cheeks. Clapton smiles more at that. God, you look so lovely now: flustered and underneath him, his hands wrapped around your wrists, your eyes boring into his. He would gladly count every eyelash, memorise every colour that paints your eyes.
“You’re high.” You giggle trying to play it off, though you don’t try to move away. Not that you could due to how he was holding you down.
“Yeah, you are too,” he says with a soft chuckle. His eyes don’t leave yours, he desperately wants to hold your gaze for as long as he can, honestly. “But even when I’m not high I still adore you.”
Fuck.
Your eyes widen a little, your mouth slightly hanging open due to his words. Clapton grins at that and before you can say anything else, he leans down to kiss you. Your lips move with his, not resisting his lips. You honestly don’t think you’d be capable of resisting him after all of this.
One of his hands laces with yours, the other still pinning you against the mattress. He continues to kiss you and he really doesn’t want to stop. He’s desperately craved this for so long now. He smiles in the kiss then, realising he has the privilege of kissing you.
His smile felt so great against your lips.
After some time you both pull away, a huge dumb smile on Clapton’s face that makes you smile at how adorable he looks. He plops down, laying his head against your chest, wanting to be near you for longer. You don’t even have to kiss, you really don’t have to do anything but be close to him. That’s really all he wants. All he’s ever wanted from you.
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xcherryerim · 4 months ago
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˖⁺ ⊹୨ Love Across Time ୧⊹ ⁺˖
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Assistant Josh x (gn) Teacher reader
There's so much trauma in my life. I've been so cold to the ones who loved me, baby. — Out of Time by The weeknd
SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | +18
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WARNING: Sexual tension | Jealous reader | Voyeurism (?) | oral sex to reader | penetration | in the middle of sex love confession and rambles | Porn with plot | Not proofread (literally did not revised this once so, shitty probably) | ‘funny’ part at the end. | terrible reference to star wars. | no use of y/n. | quicky
Backstory: Josh, a time traveler and savior of the world, has found himself stuck in the early 2000s and has become a teacher's assistant. Despite his best efforts to keep his distance from you, the teacher he is assisting, Josh finds himself irresistibly drawn to you. leading Josh on a journey of self-discovery and romance as he tries to navigate this new timeline.
The classroom was filled with the sound of students chattering. The hum of conversation and your voice fills the air, punctuated by the occasional clatter of papers and the shuffling of chairs. A faint scent of coffee and ink permeates the room, mingling with the soft glow of fluorescent lights overhead.
You were In front of the board, carefully going over the lecture, trying not to leave any detail behind. Next to you, there was your assistant, Josh, seated on the desk.
As usual, he paid attention to the lesson as if he was one of the students. He bit into the base of his pen, eyes scanning the board and its content, eventually landing in your hands. Admiring the softness and delicate moves they made.
Consumed by his pent-up desires, Josh's mind drifted, painting vivid scenarios where your skilled hands explored his body, tracing the contours and caressing every inch he craved.
Is not that Josh didn’t have game, on the contrary, multiple staff members and students flirted with him from time to time, but he fully decided to be celibate.
Did he hate it? Of course, years, or to better say, centuries ago, he was a sex god in ‘Heven’, and now he is forcing himself to not have any type of intercourse. He didn’t want to get attached to someone.
It would be hard to explain the traumas and adventures he gained from saving the world with Wolf and Tiger. He didn’t even attempt to make friends, he was too scared to slip up things from the future to a person living in the year 2002. He was way too fearful of the repercussions. What if he ends up in those TV shows about crazy people, or even worse, a mental institute?
So, he found comfort in spacing out, imagining a retro (to himself at least) suburbian life with you, never daring to get too close.
He shifted his head, the motion accompanied by a deep groan, the weight of his unfulfilled desires bearing down on him. An innocent student's gaze caught him off guard, snapping him out of his reverie, a reminder that the world continued without regard for his internal struggles.
‘Did he notice? Did he… read my mind? Well, that’s embarrassing.’ He thought.
With an awkward cough, Josh stood straight and adjusted his gray polo, trying to remain calm. His eyes drifted to the white clock on the wall and gave you the subtle signal that it was time to end the class.
“Alright class please remember, this is our last lesson. The final is tomorrow, so I beg each of you to study so you can pass the class.”
At your final announcement, you turned your head to the side, seeing Josh’s cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink as some of your students approached him with gifts. Some students handed him letters, and gift bags, while others brought food and candy.
The assistant mumbled his thanks, feeling a mixture of gratitude and self-consciousness as he accepted each gift. His body language was noticeably reserved, with his shoulders hunched and eyes darting around the room as if wishing to disappear into the background. Despite his shyness, he managed a small smile for each student who approached him, clearly touched by the gesture.
As the last student handed over a small gift and bid farewell, you found yourself walking up to your assistant. Your eyes lingered on the array of gift bags, specifically the soft pink one with a bow. A bitter taste filled your mouth as you tried to mask the annoyance you felt.
"Looks like you're quite popular," you quipped, forcing a smile.
“Oh no. They were just being nice.” Josh's index finger tapped into the bag you had your eyes on, filling in the awkward silence as he bit his lip.
Josh wanted to say more, but he couldn't find the words. His dirty mind conjured up fantasies of what he could do to you, right there in the classroom, but he quickly dismissed them. He was just an assistant, after all. Yet, he couldn't stop his eyes from trailing up and down your body, taking in every curve and every inch.
“Well.” You said, “Let’s go to my office.” With that, you cleaned the board, before gathering your things and walked right next to your assistant.
Once you entered your office, he shut the door behind you, the sound echoing in his ears. He couldn't help but notice how the room felt like a shrine dedicated to you. Pictures, certificates, and awards decorated the walls while your desk was clean and organized.
Seated across from you, fidgeting in his chair, the tension in the room clear. A wicked grin spread across his face as he imagined sliding his hands up your thighs, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath the material of your underwear. The thought made his pulse race, and he couldn't help but shift in his seat to adjust himself discreetly.
Professional decorum clashed with the urge to act on his fantasies, but for now, he managed to keep up the ruse. He began grading the papers, nodding to himself as he read through the work.
Ever since the work party he was forced to go to, things have been awkward between you both. That night was the most he ever spoke to you, his drunk self slipping stuff he probably shouldn't have said, but he was lucky enough that both of you were out of your minds that night.
So out of your minds that, you almost kissed before Josh pulled away. Yes, it was bad, and he felt like an asshole, but it was for the better, and you knew that too. However, Josh still holds onto the thought you might like him back, and he's happy with that.
Your gaze lingered on the bags of gifts, trying to guess what they had inside. His eyes followed yours, smirking before you spoke.
“What’s in the bag anyways?”
"Oh, just the usual," he replied nonchalantly, reaching for the pink ribboned bag.
He pulled out a small box, the sweet aroma of strawberries and chocolate wafting through the air. "Strawberries," he began, lifting the lid to reveal the fruit coated in chocolate.
“At that point whoever gave you that should just confess to you already.”
You knew how your comment came across as that wasn’t your intention but who gives a gift like that to an assistant? No one unless they have ulterior motives.
Your snicker and roll of your eyes piqued his interest, and when you suggested that the students could just confess to him, he couldn't help but feel flushed with excitement. Your reactions hinted at something more than just the silent professional interest agreed upon, and he couldn't help but hope that you were feeling something akin to his desires. That this was meant to be, that maybe, just maybe, he will get his happy ending after all.
Josh's confidence soared as he plucked a strawberry from the box, savoring its sweetness, and allowing the chocolate to melt on his tongue. He relished the moment, exaggerating his sounds of pleasure, intentionally teasing you with the sensual display.
As his lips wrapped around the fruit, you couldn't help but feel a surge of heat spreading through your body, your ears reddening with each tantalizing moan. The way he held your gaze, a mischievous glint in his shiny brown eyes, only served to grow your desire.
Leaning closer to your desk, Josh held another strawberry out to you, beckoning you with a grin, "C'mon, you deserve it.”
You hesitated for a moment, shaking your head, the lingering resentment and unease preventing you from accepting the strawberry.
Josh, undeterred, approached you, his steps confident as he took a position directly in front of you. One arm rested casually on your desk, while the other extended the strawberry tantalizingly close to your lips.
His proximity left you feeling uneasy, a mixture of nerves and arousal warring within you. As he offered you the fruit once more, he repeated his invitation, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Enjoy the fruits of your labor," he whispered, his voice a seductive caress.
Your body trembled under the weight of his gaze, the challenge he laid before you clear as day.
"Josh..." You mumbled under your breath, your gaze meeting his, and you could see the hunger in his eyes. It mirrored your internal turmoil, the pull towards him growing stronger by the second.
Your indecision was evident, and Josh could sense your struggle. “C’mon,” Josh smirked, drawing even closer, the chocolate-coated fruit dancing on your lips. "Be good and take it for me."
You swallowed hard, a wave of nerves washing over you, before opening your mouth obediently to accept the offering. You nibbled at the strawberry, trying to eat it slowly and maintain your composure, avoiding direct eye contact.
However, Josh was having none of that. He grasped your chin firmly, tilting it upwards, forcing you to meet his gaze.
"That's it." He encouraged the satisfaction in his voice. His eyes lingered on you, committing the scene to memory, as the evidence of his arousal strained against his pants.
With bated breath, you slowly withdrew your lips from the strawberry, the lingering taste of sweet fruit coating your tongue. A pang of jealousy flared within you, knowing that this delight was originally meant for Josh.
An uncomfortable silence settled between you, both of you unsure of how to proceed. In Josh's mind, he wrestled with the turmoil of his desires, the allure of crossing this boundary he made for himself proving too powerful to resist.
Closing the gap between you, he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss gentle, sweet, and innocent. As your lips parted, you could taste the remnants of the strawberry and chocolate within, a sensory delight that left you breathless.
Josh's hand cradled the side of your face, his touch both comforting and arousing. Simultaneously, he unzipped his pants, his arousal apparent and urgent. The realization of his intentions sent a shiver down your spine.
Just as you began to contemplate what would come next, Josh nipped at your bottom lip, causing a startled, wanton moan to escape your lips. His mouth trailed along your jawline, sending shivers rippling through your body like wildfire.
With trembling hands, you pushed Josh away, your voice wavering as you stammered, "Josh, this is wrong."
His expression blank, he tilted his head, clearly surprised by your refusal. "Because...", you hesitated, exhaling deeply, "we're coworkers and you're my assistant."
Undeterred, Josh leaned even closer, resting his hand on the desk. His doe-eyed gaze bore into you, pleading and disarming.
"I understand that, but...", he began, "there's only a one-year age difference between us. You started teaching here two… or three years ago, and I joined the training program a little over a year ago. It's not a significant gap."
His intensity increased as he brought his face nearer to yours, his hand tracing the collar of your shirt. His gaze flickered between your neck and your lips, laden with a potent mixture of desire and determination.
"And I really want this."
As if reading your indecision, Josh offered a tempting proposition, "You know, since your students think I was so helpful and even gave me gifts... don't you think I also deserve a gift from the teacher?"
Feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin, you were unable to ignore the raw appeal of his pleading gaze. A crippling combination of logic and desire, acknowledging that you were both consenting adults, threatened to break down your defenses.
Despite the fear and accelerating adrenaline coursing through your veins, you found yourself nodding, giving the green light. With unwavering resolve, Josh seized the moment, his lips seeking out the vulnerable expanse of your neck, nibbling hungrily.
As his hands deftly unbuttoned your blouse, you held tightly to the armrests of your chair, feeling the faint sting of the impending. You allowed him to indulge in his desires, silently acknowledging that he had harbored these feelings for quite some time by the way he was acting.
Lost in the spell of Josh's nearness, you were only vaguely aware of the commotion as papers and pens met the floor, the sound eclipsed by the tempest of emotions coursing through you.
Josh's movements, purposeful yet controlled, lifted you gently, depositing you on the desktop with a tenderness that matched the fervor in his eyes.
He stepped back, the hunger in his gaze unapologetic, as if you were the rarest gem in existence, a treasure coveted above all others.
“You are so beautiful.” He breathed out.
Licking his lips nervously, Josh closed the gap between you, his kiss tracing the curve of your shoulder as his hand continued to explore your body. Moving downward, his lips trailed along your chest, and ribcage, and finally reached to your thighs.
Meeting your gaze with a smug, self-satisfied smirk, Josh murmured, "You know... you deserve a good treat too."
His hand trembled as it snaked its way to your waistband, hesitating for a brief moment before liberating you from the confines of your garment. All that remained now was your underwear, a thin barrier between you and the intense desire simmering between you.
A pulse of anxiety shot through your veins. Was this right? The thought of having your hot assistant intimately nestled between your thighs seemed both appealing and alarming.
“You don’t—“
Before you could voice your uncertainty, Josh preempted your concern. "I want to," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.
"I want to so... so badly," he confessed, his lips dampening the fabric of your undergarments, betraying his eagerness.
You felt the vibrations of Josh's soft chuckle reverberate against your skin through the thin, damp fabric, causing your back to arch involuntarily.
“Stay still, alright?" he ordered, gripping your hips firmly. His teeth nipped at the edge of your underwear, sliding it down your legs with ease.
The overwhelming combination of pleasure and nerves left your body trembling, an involuntary reaction to the intensity of the situation.
Letting go of you, Josh moved to one of the desk cabinets, retrieving a ruler. He lifted the object, bringing it to eye-level with you.
"Told you not to move. Let's try that again, okay?" His commanding tone, paired with the unconventional implement, caught you off guard.
What had once been a modest, shy coworker now stood before you transformed into an irresistible embodiment of sexual desire. Your mind reeled at the sudden transformation, struggling to process how this turn of events came to pass.
"Okay... sorry," you stammered, your voice betrayed by the turbulent mix of excitement and nervousness.
Josh's reassuring words washed over you, "Shhh, it's okay." His lips found their way to the warm expanse between your thighs, trailing soft, wet kisses. The tender intimacy of his actions sent shivers coursing through your body.
Anxiety crept into his voice as he hesitated, "I—," his confession hung heavy in the air. "I haven't done this in decades... I mean years!" He cursed himself under his breath, eyes meeting yours with pleading vulnerability.
"Sorry if I'm not as good as you'll want me to be," he apologized sheepishly before resuming his exploration, his mouth filled with the taste of you.
Arching your back, you reveled in the pleasure of his skilled ministrations. Winding your fingers in his damp hair, you gently tugged, and a moan escaped his lips. Encouraged by his response, you pulled harder, grinning wickedly.
"Mmh, yes, please! Fuck. Pull my fucking hair, please."
The sound of footsteps in the corridor startled you, a surge of panic sending shivers down your spine. Frantic, you forced Josh's head further between your legs, the urgent need for silence overriding any other considerations.
"Shhh, shh!" you hissed, glancing towards the door, pleading for divine intervention to conceal your transgression.
Josh's focus, however, was entirely on the task at hand. His muffled words were swallowed by a fervent desire to savor the taste of you. A trail of saliva clung to his chin, a testament to his relentless enthusiasm. His mouth, lips, and tongue worshiped you with the desperation of a man starved for affection.
His whimpering, praises, and wet, slurping sounds filled the room, each moment amplifying the crescendo of pleasure. The realization of his prolonged abstinence did little to quell the heat emanating from your core.
On the brink of ecstasy, your legs trembled with the strain of resisting the imminent climax.
"J...Josh?" you called out, gently tugging his hair to draw his attention away from his task. His face, glistening with perspiration and droplets of saliva, met your gaze, his eyes gleaming with an intensity borne from devotion.
At that moment, you found yourself smitten by his earnestness. "Can we try something different?" you asked, unable to resist the curiosity kindling in your psyche.
A smirk spread across Josh's face, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he nodded in affirmation.
Positioning you, he laid your back against the wooden surface of the desk, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you watched him hastily attempt to remove his pants. The task proved more arduous than anticipated, eliciting a small chuckle from you.
Josh's breath hitched, "You're so hot, fuck," he muttered, his hand stroking himself as his lips pressed a searing kiss to your entrance.
Teasing you mercilessly, he moved his hips, the tip of his erection teasing your slick opening. You whimpered in frustration.
"Stop being a tease," you demanded, annoyed and embarrassed by his playful torment.
"You're right, sorry," he admitted, flushing a deep shade of red. "I've, I—" He groaned, cursing under his breath. "Fuck."
Josh's gaze held yours, sincerity etched into his features. "I like you. I don't think I ever liked someone like this before. You're so hot and smart, I love your voice, how you explain stuff to me without making me feel like an idiot and your humor." His smile was tender, genuine.
"I love your laugh too, even if you hate it. And, fuck, I've been... I imagined us like this but not, not like this, like this, you know?"
His brow furrowed, lips biting into his bottom lip. "I ruined it, didn't I?" Concern lurked beneath his words.
You chuckled, reaching out to trace your fingertips along his cheek, "Yeah, and you were so good at keeping the dominant role earlier." Admittedly, you found his vulnerability endearing.
"I like you, and I've thought of this too," you confessed, your heart pounding in your chest with every whispered syllable.
Your tone shifted, growing more serious, "To be honest, that gift pissed me off."
Josh's reaction to your accusation was immediate, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "The strawberries? Yeah, I could tell."
His admission confirmed your suspicions, and with a playful scoff, you retorted, "Asshole."
You beat his shoulder lightly with feigned aggression, laughter echoing through the room.
"Out of all the gifts I’ve gotten tonight, no, out of all the gifts I’ve had, ever," Josh began, "you're the best one.” He said before thinking deeply. “Well, no, you're the second. The first one was when I got a signed DVD of Star Wars, Episode Seven: The Force Awakens."
Confusion clouded your expression, "Episode seven?"
Josh stammered, realizing you wouldn't comprehend the reference to a film that, for you, was lightyears ahead.
"Uhm... forget it. I was joking since you know." A nervous laugh followed his retreat. "Anyways, where were we? Oh, yeah, fucking! Uhm.”
Time to reveal he was from the future, his adventures, saving the world, and landing in 2000—it was a story better suited for the future.
Josh seized the moment, thrusting into you with urgency. The distraction worked, the sudden invasion of his sizable girth stealing your breath.
It took a moment for both of you to adjust to the sensation, the newfound closeness offering a liberating sense of.
"You're tight," Josh reed with unbridled pride, his hands capturing your wrists in a firm grip. "I'll start," he promised, granting you a brief moment of surrender.
A nod from you signaled your consent, allowing him to begin the rhythmic thrusts that filled you with his length. Pain, sharp and undeniable, punctuated the sensations, but the pleasure outweighed the discomfort.
"Fuck," you cried out, teary eyes meeting his.
"Hold onto me," Josh commanded, his voice raw and insistent. Your nails dug into his skin with a vengeance, and the resulting grunt of satisfaction was the only response he needed.
The intensity of the act, coupled with the nearness of your bodies, left you at a loss for words. "Like that?" he inquired, and though the question seemed redundant, the sensation of his cock stretching you open left you incapable of verbal acknowledgment.
The room was suffused with the erotic symphony of skin slapping against skin, heavy breathing, and the occasional grunt or moan. In this dance of passion, the unspoken understanding between the two of you spoke volumes, every thrust cementing the bond between you.
"Let me go faster, please," Josh whined, craving the release that only complete surrender could offer.
You whimpered, uncertainty lacing your response, "I don't... I don't think I can handle that, Josh." The creaking of the desk mirrored the strain of the moment.
Desperation colored his voice as he pleaded, "Please, please. I'll be good, you'll like it. Please."
In response, you groaned, "Fine. Just because we need to finish grading." Despite the flimsy excuse, the promise of gratification following the completion of your task hung in the air.
A triumphant grin spread across Josh's face, "After that, you can have me as much as you want," he promised, holding you firmly as he thrust deeper, his cock filling and emptying you in a rhythm of pleasure and longing.
The edge of climax ebbed closer, winding its way through your veins. You found yourself pressing your head into his neck, biting him unintentionally.
"Mmh, gonna cum," Josh warned, his orgasm imminent. With a powerful surge, he filled you, the warmth of his release enveloping you.
Exhausted, the two of you stood there, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Disheveled and sweat-drenched, you looked at each other, the weight of the moments heavy in the air.
Recovering enough to speak, you fumbled for the right words, "Let's uhm..." Your voice trailed off, replaced by an awkward suggestion, "Let's get grading, shall we?"
You climbed off the desk and started gathering your clothes from the floor, Josh following suit as he laughed softly. Dressing hurriedly, you both resumed your roles as teacher and assistant, submitting to the mundane task before you.
The day of the final exam dawned, and as you explained the rules and addressed student queries, your concentration wavered. Two students, oblivious to your displeasure, engaged in hushed conversation while you spoke.
In a moment of synchronized understanding, you locked eyes with Josh, who wasted no time in addressing the situation.
He strode towards the offending students, leaning casually on their table. "Guys, please keep it down," he requested softly, the authority in his tone leaving no room for argument. With a single nod, he continued to monitor other students.
Once he moved away, the culprits exchanged glances, one of them whispering, "Did you see the hickey or am I crazy?"
The other nodded, unable to deny the evidence of their own eyes, replying, "I saw it."
The students' curiosity piqued, and their gazes shifted between you and Josh, zeroing in on your choice of clothing: turtlenecks on an otherwise scorching day. The unspoken implications danced in their minds.
“They slept together!?”
Crossing your arms, you fixed your gaze on the offenders, your voice dripping with sarcasm, "Care to share with everyone?"
Embarrassed, they quickly retracted, "No. Sorry." Giggles threatened to escape, but they struggled to suppress them, the cat now firmly out of the bag.
One student voiced her thoughts aloud, "Why does the class get interesting on the last day?" A sentiment echoed in the covert smiles and furtive glances shared by those around her.
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lefteagleblizzard · 5 months ago
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𝕳𝖎𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖊𝖘
Derek Danforth x gn reader
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Summary: you and Derek run away together with fake identities to start a new and more simple life together.
Warnings: no pronouns used towards the reader. Smut. Riding. Sex on a plane. Fake identities. Fake marriage. Derek being soft exclusively to reader. This is the continuation for the miniseries of one shots I wrote for Derek that you can find on my masterlist but, just like the others, can be read as a one shot. Enjoy
Part 2 of this!
Words count: almost 5000
Can also be found on wattpad and ao3
You wake up in Derek's bed, the memories of the passionate night you shared still vividly replaying in your mind. The warmth of his presence lingers on the sheets, but he is nowhere to be found. Wrapping yourself in one of Derek's colorful shirts to cover your naked body, you begin searching for him, a sense of unease gnawing at you.
The mansion is eerily silent, the only sound is your bare feet padding softly on the floor. You navigate through the corridors, passing by different rooms until you find Derek in his office, the sharp tone of his voice cutting through the silence.
He's on the phone, yelling about an assassin who seems to be relentlessly hunting him down. The look on his face is one of extreme anger and paranoia, his eyes darting around as if expecting danger to strike at any moment. His usual composed demeanor is replaced by a stressed and agitated man on the edge.
"Get me someone competent this time!" Derek shouts into the phone, his voice breaking with frustration. "I don't care how much it costs, just get it done!"
You approach him slowly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Derek, it's going to be okay" you whisper, trying to console him in the best way you can. He turns to look at you, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and desperation. You've never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so exposed.
"Do you even understand what's happening?" he snaps, his anger momentarily redirected at you.
In his drugged-up and paranoid state, Derek begins to confess. He spills the truth about his elaborate scheme: stealing money to finance his mother's campaign, manipulating her rise to power, and using her connections to secure more business deals for himself. He vents about his problematic relationship with his mother, the constant pressure to succeed, and this beekeeper who seems unstoppable in his quest to see Derek dead.
You listen intently, your heart aching for the man you've come to love despite his many flaws. His wrath never seems to subside, and at one point, Derek's face twists into a mask of anguish, and his hand trembles as he reaches into the desk drawer.
Before you can react, he pulls out a revolver, the cold metal glinting in the dim light. Your heart skips a beat, and your breath catches in your throat.
"Derek, what are you doing?" you ask, your voice shaking.
He points the gun at you, his eyes wild, with a mix of anger and fear. "Would you betray me? Would you save yourself and leave me to this fucking beekeeper?"
The question hangs in the air, heavy and suffocating. You see the desperation in his eyes, the stress that has pushed him to this point. Your initial shock quickly transforms into a profound sadness as you realize just how deeply this situation is affecting him.
Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you hesitantly take a step forward. Derek's hand shakes, but he doesn't lower the gun. You can see the internal struggle playing out on his face, the fear of betrayal mingling with the fear of being alone.
With a trembling breath, you step closer until the barrel of the gun is pressed against your forehead. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine, but you hold your ground. "Derek, I would rather die with you than betray you" you say, your voice breaking with emotion. Tears stream down your face as you look into his eyes, hoping to reach the man you love behind the fear and paranoia.
For a moment, time stands still. The room is filled with a tense silence, the only sound the ragged breaths coming from both of you. Then, something shifts in Derek's expression. His eyes soften, the anger and fear melting away to reveal a deep sorrow.
Slowly, he lowers the gun, his hand shaking violently. "I'm sorry" he whispers, tears glistening in his eyes.
You take the gun from his hand and place it on the desk, then wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace.
You feel his body tremble against yours, the weight of his actions and the stress of his situation bearing down on him. You stroke his back soothingly, whispering words of comfort and love.
"Derek, we need to think clearly," you say softly "You can't stay here. You need to leave. Go somewhere safe and leave no trace behind”
He looks at you, the fear still evident in his eyes. He contemplates the idea, his mind racing with possibilities. Ultimately, he agrees, giving you instructions to arrange a private flight while he secures a new identity for him.
You leave his office to start preparing everything. Using Derek's network of contacts, you manage to secure a private jet. You work swiftly ensuring that no trace of your plans can be detected.
Meanwhile, Derek makes a call to a trusted associate, arranging for fake documents and a new identity. His usual confidence and arrogance are tempered by the gravity of the situation, and you can see the strain taking its toll on him.
When Derek is ready to go, he asks you to come with him. At first, you think it's because you're the only one who knows where he's headed. You were partially true for that but he added more to justify his sudden request. "Come on, don’t leave me alone in this. Let’s start a new life together. Like it or not you’re in as much trouble as me.”
You've always been there for him. Know him well enough to intervene when needed, when to calm him down and, on top of that, you were hot.
It would be such a shame for him to lose such an incredible person like you for god knows how fucking long.
Your mind races with thoughts of the future. Could you really leave everything behind and start a new life after everything you’ve been through? With Derek out of all people? The idea fills you with both hope and fear.
Mickey was already dead. You stand no chance against this crazy man. Let’s not risk your life and make the fun choice at this point.
You agree to go with him. He asks his contact to prepare a new identity for you as well, and soon you are ready to leave your old lives behind.
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The departure was imminent. You and Derek were poised for escape, but there was one last crucial task that you wanted to do: erasing all digital traces of presence. The thought of being seen on surveillance tapes, the possibility of anyone tracking your movements, made your heart race. You need to delete the recordings from the hours you and Derek were seen, or everything will be useless.
“I’ll be right back” you whispered to his ear before sprinting inside the still desolated building.
You approached the door with a practiced calm, though your pulse was anything but steady. The tools in your hand felt heavier than usual. The quiet of the early morning amplifies every sound you make.
You picked the lock with surprising ease, the years of working alongside Derek giving you more skills than you had ever realized. The door clicked open, and you slipped inside, the dimly lit room casting shadows on the walls.
The computer area was a maze of desks and screens, the soft hum of machinery was the only sound breaking the silence. You moved quickly to the main terminal, your fingers flying over the keyboard as you navigated the system. Each second felt like an eternity, your anxiety mounting as you watched the progress bar inch closer to completion.
A noise behind you made you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. You glanced around, but the room was empty. You shook your head, scolding yourself for being paranoid. Still, the feeling that someone was watching you wouldn't go away.
With a final keystroke, the last of the recordings were erased. Relief washed over you, but it was short lived. You couldn't shake the feeling of being followed, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.
Quick, act fast.
You quickly accessed the airline database, your decent skills with computers coming in handy. You found a cheap flight and replaced the seats of a couple with yours and Derek's names. It was a diversion, a way to throw off anyone who might be tracking you. Hopefully, it would buy you enough time to get away clean.
As you moved to leave, the sound of the door opening loudly made your blood run cold. You dove under a nearby desk, your heart pounding so hard you were sure it could be heard. The room was dark, but the light from the hallway cast long shadows. Footsteps echoed through the space, słow and deliberate. You pressed yourself further into the shadows, barely daring to breathe.
The footsteps grew closer, pausing near the desk where you were hiding. You bit your lip to stifle any sound, your mind racing. Was it this relentless Beekeeper, or just someone else in the wrong place at the wrong time? The uncertainty was maddening.
Minutes felt like hours as you remained hidden, every creak and rustle amplified in the dark. The footsteps eventually moved away but you waited, counting each breath, until you were sure the person had left. Your muscles ached from the tension, but you couldn't afford to relax yet.
You carefully crawled out from under the desk, your movements slow and deliberate. The room was still, but you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. You edged towards the door, every nerve on high alert. The hallway outside was empty, but you knew better than to trust appearances.
Slipping into the corridor, you blended into the growing crowd of people. The airport was starting to come alive with the first travelers of the day, and you moved among them, doing your best to appear inconspicuous. Your heart was still racing, the fear of being caught making every step feel precarious.
You didn't dare to look back, the anxiety gnawing at you. The feeling of being followed persisted, but you pushed it down, focusing on the task at hand. The airport was now open, the bustle of activity providing some semblance of cover. You made your way to the rendezvous point, hoping Derek was already there.
The crowd was your shield, the noise and movement giving you a sense of security. You kept your head down, avoiding eye contact, adjusting from time to time your sunglasses to keep your hand occupied. Every instinct screaming at you to keep moving.
The relief you felt upon spotting Derek was overwhelming, his familiar figure hidden carefully among the throng of strangers.
It was strange seeing him dressed all black for once, but you for sure were not complaining. That leather jacket looked good on him.
"Let's go, you whispered, slipping your hand into his. He squeezed it reassuringly, his presence calming your fraved nerves.
As you moved through the airport, the fear began to fade, replaced by a grim determination. Whether the person in the computer room had been the assassin or just a figment of your paranoia, you couldn't be sure. But one thing was certain: you and Derek were in this together, and nothing would stop you from finding a way out.
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The private jet you and Derek are in is a masterpiece of luxury and design. The interior boasts plush leather seats, dark mahogany accents, and soft ambient lighting that creates a warm, intimate atmosphere. The hum of the engines is a distant whisper, making the cabin a serene escape from the chaos left behind.
You sit together in a spacious lounge area, leaning against Derek, feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt. He sips scotch from the mini-bar, the amber liquid catching the light as he swirls it in his glass. You nestle closer to him, drawing comfort from his presence despite the tension that still lingers in the air.
The seats are wide and comfortable, upholstered in buttery leather. The bar is stocked with top-shelf liquor, and the faint scent of citrus and cedar fills the air, creating an ambiance of calm sophistication,
You trace a finger along the scam of the leather armrest, letting the silence settle before you turn to him, a teasing glint in your eye.
Derek takes another sip of his scotch, his fingers tightening slightly around the glass as if the act of holding it grounds him, you can see the tension in his eyes.
You scrunch your nose playfully, trying to lift his spirits.
"Honestly, I think our new last name is a bit ugly. And the picture they used for my new ID is awful."
He showed you the information a couple of hours ago but only now had you paid attention to them.
He chuckles, the sound a bit rough, but there's genuine amusement there. "You look good in any picture. But if it makes you feel better, we can take new ones when we're settled.”
You smile, feeling a flutter of warmth at his compliment, but there's a question you need to ask. "Why did you want me to come with you? I mean, really?"
Derek's expression hardens for a moment, his defenses rising. He takes a deep breath, looking away as if considering how much to reveal. “That fucking Beekeeper would have probably tortured you to know where I went" he says, his tone a mix of seriousness and flirtation, "And let's be real, we both know how little it takes to make you beg”
You lightly hit him on the chest, unable to suppress your laughter. "You're such an idiot" you say, shaking your head, but your heart feels lighter.
The momentary levity fades as you notice the stress lines still etched on his face. His eyes, though filled with a of emotions, show a vulnerability you've rarely seen. Determined to soothe him, you climb onto his lap. His eyes immediately move to your face, filled with a mixture of surprise and appreciation.
You stroke his check tenderly your thumb brushing against the stubble. "It's going to be okay. We're in this together, and we'll figure it out one step at the time”
“We have a chance to start over, to build something real." He looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty "Do you really believe that we can leave it all behind?"
"I do," you say firmly. "We can make a new life together, free from the past and ready to do whatever we want”
He closes his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch. "You always know what to say" he murmurs.
The leather seats creak softly under your combined weight, a subtle reminder of the luxury that envelops you. But in this moment, all that matters is the closeness, the raw need to erase the anxiety and fear that have plagued Derek.
Your fingers trace the line of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble, a tactile reassurance of his presence, his reality. Derek's eyes, usually sharp and calculating, now reflect a tempest of emotions-vulnerability, longing, and a deep, unyielding need for connection.
As your lips meet again, the kiss deepens, becoming a fervent dance of tongues and breaths, each movement a testament to the desperation to find solace in each other. Your bodies press closer, the heat between you rising, a conflagration of pent-up emotions seeking release.
When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless. He looks a you dead in the eyes and makes his demand crystal clear. “Distract me.”
You felt something poking your butt and a smirk slowly grow on your face.
A leopard never changes its spots, after all.
Your clothes become a barrier, an unnecessary hindrance to the communion you both seek. Piece by piece, they are discarded, falling away like the masks you wear in the outside world. Each touch, each caress, is imbued with a profound intensity, a silent promise of devotion and understanding. Derek's hands roam over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, his touch both a comfort and a spark to the flames of your desire.
Derek's hand trails languidly up and down your back, each pass a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. His touch is both tender and possessive, a silent affirmation of his need for you. His fingers splay against your back, pulling you closer, eliminating any space between you. You can feel every inch of him, the solid strength of his thighs beneath yours, the muscle of his arms as they wrap around you, holding you as if you are his lifeline.
As you straddle him, your bodies move in a synchronized dance, a rhythm as ancient as time itself. The jet's confined space amplifies every sound, every whispered moan, turning them into a symphony of shared pleasure and solace. Your movements become more urgent, a physical manifestation of your emotional need to become one, to find sanctuary in each other's embrace.
His skin is hot to the touch, a testament to the fire burning between you. He watches you with eyes darkened by desire, his breaths coming in shallow pants.
Your hands find the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them with practiced ease. You can feel the growing hardness beneath the fabric, a clear indication of his arousal. He lifts his hips slightly, allowing you to slide his pants and underwear down, freeing him completely. The sight of him, fully exposed, sends a thrill through you, a potent mix of anticipation and longing.
You shift, positioning yourself over him, feeling the heat of his arousal against your inner thigh. His hands find your hips, guiding you as you lower yourself onto him. The initial contact is electric, a spark that ignites into a full-blown inferno as you sink down, taking him fully inside you. A gasp escapes your lips, the sensation overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and fullness.
For a moment, you remain still, savoring the connection, the feeling of being completely joined with him. Derek's hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he struggles to maintain control. You can see the strain in his eyes, the way his jaw clenches with the effort.
Then you begin to move, slowly at first, finding a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through both of you. The friction is exquisite, every movement a deliberate act of love and desire. You ride him with increasing fervor, your bodies moving in perfect synchrony, a dance as old as time itself.
Derek's hands roam your body, his thumb brushing over your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure through you. The other hand moves to the small of your back, guiding your movements, urging you on. You lean forward, bracing your hands on his shoulders, your breaths mingling as you move together.
The sensations build, a crescendo of pleasure that threatens to overwhelm you. You can feel the tension coiling in your abdomen, a tight knot of anticipation and need. Derek's breathing grows ragged, his hands gripping you tighter, his hips thrusting upward to meet your movements.
With a final, powerful thrust, the tension breaks, and you are both swept away in a wave of ecstasy. Your body trembles, convulsing with the force of your climax, and you cry out, the sound a raw, primal expression of your release. Derek follows moments later, his grip on you tightening as he finds his own release, his body shuddering beneath yours while he fills you up.
As the waves of ecstasy wash over you both, there is a profound sense of release, a catharsis that leaves you trembling in each other's arms.
Your fingers trail down his face, your touch lingering as you lean in. The kiss starts gently, but quickly grows more passionate, fueled by the emotions that have been running high. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer. The world outside the jet feels like a distant memory as you focus entirely on the man holding you.
When he finally pulls back, his eyes are soft yet intense, filled with a depth of emotion that leaves you breathless.
You find a moment of perfect unity. Derek's eyes lock onto yours, and in that gaze, you see everything: his fears, his love, his desperation to hold onto this moment, to you.
You feel a flutter in your chest at the intensity of his stare. Something that wasn’t for once pure lust and desire.
He found the person he wanted to be with for the rest of his fucked up life.
“Get up” he ordered.
Confused and reluctant, you get up, watching as he starts looking for something in the small space. At first, you think he's succumbing to his paranoia again, searching for hidden listening devices. But then he turns back to you, a small box in his hand.
"I didn't tell you this before" he says, his voice taking on a cocky edge that you’ve known well enough “but with our new identities, we're already married." He opens the box, revealing a beautiful ring. "Thought you might want to wear this."
Your breath catches as you look at the ring, the light catching on the intricate design. He slides it onto your finger, his touch gentle but sure. "Consider it official" he says with a smirk, his eyes never leaving yours.
Of course he did it.
A married couple might appear more credible to outsiders. People tend to trust couples, assuming they have a stable relationship. This credibility can help you two navigate situations where you’ll need to prove your identities.
Being married can offer legal advantages, as potentially having access to each other’s health insurance.
Pretending to be a married couple would allow you two to share responsibilities convincingly. You could claim joint ownership of property, share household chores, and explain your presence in a new location.
It was all strategic but your heart was still overwhelmed by joy at the fact that you now had this connection with him, now that everyone will consider you two married, together till death separates you.
Your rationality was forgotten on the road as your feelings took over entirely.
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you look at him sitting down on his seat. "Derek, I-"
You can't help but laugh, a mixture of relief and joy bubbling up inside you while you roll the ring with your thumb. "You'll never change, will you?" you say, shaking your head.
He pulls you back into his lap, his arms wrapping around you. "And you love it" he murmurs against your ear, his breath warm on your skin.
"We're in this together," he says again, more firmly this time. "And nothing is going to change that."
You nod, a smile breaking through the tears. "Together."
Derek pulls you into a passionate kiss, scaling the promise of a new beginning.
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The next few hours pass in a blur as you and Derek finalize your plans.
When you landed, it was under the cover of night. The air was crisp, the world around you silent and still. Derek's contact met you, handing over the new documents that would solidify your new identities. You land in a remote location, far from the prying eyes of the media and Derek's enemies.
A safe house has been arranged, a secluded villa nestled in a quiet coastal town. It's a stark contrast to the lavish lifestyle you’ve grown accustomed to, but the simplicity brings a sense of peace you didn't know you needed.
Days turn into weeks as you and Derek adjust to your new lives. The fear of being discovered lingers, but the tranquility of your surroundings provides a welcome respite. Derek's paranoia slowly fades away, replaced by a cautious optimism.
Derek was different here, the weight of his past gradually lifting as he embraced the anonymity and simplicity of your new life.
Your relationship with your ‘husband’ deepens in this new environment. The bond you share is strengthened by the trials you've endured together. The more time you spend with him, the more you understand the complexities of his character. Beneath the layers of deceit and manipulation lies a man who has been shaped by circumstances beyond his control, driven by a desire to prove himself and gain his mother's approval.
As the weeks turn into months, you and Derek continue to settle into your new lives. The fear of discovery never completely disappears, but it fades into the background as you focus on building your future together.
Derek takes on a new project, using his business acumen to help improve local entrepreneurs, while you find fulfillment in volunteering at a community center.
Now, you stand on the balcony of your secluded villa, the cool breeze carrying the scent of salt and the distant melody of the ocean. Derek stands beside you, a glass of scotch in his hand, the moonlight casting a silver glow on his features.
"You know '' Derek begins, his voice carrying a note of disdain, "these people have no idea how to run a business. They stumble around, thinking they can manage with their outdated methods and lack of foresight. It's almost laughable”
You can't help but chuckle, the sound mingling with the rhythmic crash of shaking your head. His arrogance and confidence never disappeared, and it’s always quite endearing.
"Oh, Derek," you say this time, “you'd learn to appreciate the charm of simplicity with time, don’t worry."
He smirks, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Charm? There's nothing charming about inefficiency: Did you see how that baker runs his shop? No marketing strategy, no expansion plans. It's a miracle he's still in business." He makes use of his beloved vape, blowing the smoke in your direction.
"True" you reply leaning against the balcony railing and waving your hand around to get rid of the smoke, "but some people are content with with what they have”
Derek takes a sip of his scotch, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sea meets the sky "Contentment is just another word for complacency. They don't realize how much more they could achieve with a little ambition.” You smile, reaching out to touch his arm. "Not everyone has your drive, Derek. And maybe that's okay”
He turns to you, his expression softening as he places his hand over yours, playing softly with your ring.
Derek sighs deeply, his gaze turning back to the ocean, "Do you remember the first time we came here?" his voice softer now. "How I complained about the lack of five-star service and high-speed internet?" He asks
You laugh, the memory vivid in your mind. "Yes, and I remember how you almost turned the car around when you saw the dirty road leading to the villa. And the face that you made oh my god-”
You couldn’t continue due to your incessant laughs, covering your face with both of your hands to suppress the sounds.
He chuckles as well, a rare sound that warms your heart. "It's amazing how much has changed. I never thought I'd be able to live without the constant hustle and bustle of the city.”
You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. "I think we both needed this. A chance to start over, to find out who we are without all the noise."
"I talk about us all the time, you know, to anyone who will listen. The locals must think I'm crazy, always going on about how much I love you.” You laugh again, a bright, joyful sound. "And they probably think I'm just as crazy for putting up with you."
“By the way, you gotta stop doing that” you pointed a finger at his direction with a fake threatening tone “everyone keep saying how lucky I am to have a husband like you”
“Why? We need to let everyone know how happy we are together” he countered with a playful tone. He leaned forward and trapped you in a tight grip in his arms, prepping your face with multiple and chaste kisses as your laughs never stopped.
The light and wholesome moment soon came to an end, the peace and sound of the waves return.
Derek is silent for a moment, then he turns to look at you, his expression serious. "Do you ever regret it? Leaving everything behind, starting fresh?"
You shake your head slowly, "No, Derek. Not for a second. Being here with you, away from all the corruption and lies... it's the best decision I ever made. Even if it's hard sometimes.”
“Thank you” he whispered so softly you almost didn’t hear it under the sound of the waves.
"Always," you reply softly. "I'll always love you, Derek."
You lean in and kiss him, a promise of the future you will build together. As you pull away you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. For the first time in a long time, you feel a sense of peace.
Your life, though imperfect, stood as a testament to the power of second chances. Both you and your lifelong partner will seize every moment granted by the latter half of your journey.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
Note: thanks for reading. This was so fun to write, let me know if you liked this one. It's definitely one of my favorites that I wrote
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ast4tarion · 1 year ago
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pls pls pls pls PLEASE soft dom mike x reader PLEASE
please and thank you. im desperate if you cant tell.
also how tf you put pics in asks??? ive been on this app for 3 years and i have no idea i feel old
anyway have a good day and dont forgeg to stay hydrated, ily mwah!
SOFT DOM MIKE IS REAL im more into subby whiny Mike but i can totally see him being a super gentle dom because it comes from his nature to protect his loved ones <3 thank you for the kind words too I’m getting water just as I finish writing this :) (also I believe you can put pictures in with the squares next to the gif symbol on the lower bar on mobile!)
cws; soft dom!mike, sooooo much praise, gender neutral reader, a little bit of overstim
Soft words that you don’t even realize are commands because you’re just absolutely melting into them with him. Mike is super slow and tedious with his foreplay and is constantly praising you for humping his leg and being so good while he gets you ready.
He’s so gentle with you when you fuck that you forget how dominant he can be until he’s got you bent over the couch, mumbling that you’re so pretty for him and he’s gonna take care of you while you fully know he’s gonna thrust into you until your crying from how good it feels.
He’s primarily a very tender dom telling you things like sorry baby but you can’t touch yourself, I’m gonna do that for you and I’ll do it real good and I’ll make three fingers fit, you’ll feel so good honey relax
He’s not into any harder kinks but he’ll get a little ruthless sometimes, praising and kissing you so gently while he’s got you completely pinned to the counter fucking your cum back into you sloppily after four rounds straight and there’s so much that it’s dripping out of you and your whining and crying but he’s insisting you’ve got another around in you, maybe two
(He takes your boundaries very seriously, at a “yellow” he pulls it out and helps you match his breathing and takes as much time as you need, at a “red” he’s stopping straight away and he’s reaching for the nightstand where he’s got a water bottle and a snack ready for you)
You love that he’s so tender yet rough with you, that he can put you in so much painpleasure but praise you so much and when he starts coming undone and his thrusts get sloppy and his praise becomes “suchagoodfuckingbabyformeyouresoprettyineedyouineedyouyouretakingmesowellgodyourebeautiful”? Whatever surface you’re doing it on is SOAKED with your slick and when he cums he’s groaning in your ear and immediately wrapping you up in his arms
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sameschmidtdiffname · 7 months ago
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Wool Over My Eyes
Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader
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Summery: Mike always says you have such trouble getting up in the morning. You don't intend to take so long to wake, but Mike is quite confident the solution lays just at his fingertips- and lips.
Tags: No use of Y/N, no use of gendered pronouns, no genitalia specification, light bondage, pet names, dirty talk, fingering, oral (reader recieving), cum swallowing, morning sex, light breeding kink, recording sex, dacryphillia, light choking, switch! Mike, switch! Reader, facial, age-gap, interrupted sex, barely proofread and over the course of three days after my shifts right before I went to bed (cuz we die like men)
Notes: I love you gullible fucks.
"C'mere here, sweet thing."
I groan as Mike rolls me onto my side, his lips finding my cheek that has been textured from the blanket that imprinted itself upon my skin as I slept restlessly through the night. It had only been a couple hours ago that I'd finally found sleep, and it doesn't even feel like five minutes since I'd actually sunk into it.
"Five more minutes," I groan, my words slurred with sleep as I press my back further against Mike's intoxicatingly warm and inviting front, hardly even noticing anything else about my surroundings as I begin to drift back into sleep once more.
"You said five minutes an hour ago," Mike gently chides into my ear, his voice almost a full octave lower and rough with his own sleep, probably. My hand automatically raises to swipe lazily at his lips which graze so lightly against the shell of my ear, his breath tickling my skin enough to irritate my tired mind. "It's time to wake up."
"Mm," I moan in a somewhat childlike manner. He chuckles at this, his lips once more finding my cheek as his hands begin to peel the blanket away from me, slowly exposing my chest mostly.
"Don't," I groan in a soft, high voice, the cold air of the room beginning to stiffen certian parts of my body. Such as my back, shoulders.
"Be nice," Mike chuckles as his lips trail lazily closer to my own, his hand satisfied with how exposed my body is now and beginning to reverse its trail, now grazing his fingertips gently along the soft cotton of my shirt that still keeps my chest covered.
"Make me," I try to snap, too drugged with sleep to carry any venom in my voice.
Mike's lips find mine in an instant, his tongue diving into my mouth as he suddenly moves his hand to my hair, tugging at it almost harshly as a small whine escapes me from the sudden aggression. He moans into the kiss, his other hand wrapping around my throat ever so gently as our lips slide together, slick with his spit, making me pant against his kiss.
"Don't make me be the bad guy," Mike says against my lips when he pulls away for a moment. His head ducks down to tease at my neck, biting into it softly before he returns to my mouth, slipping his tongue inside of it once more and moaning loudly as he does.
Our kisses are not graceful, I'll admit. They're messy, hard, wet with thick desire as his hand trails to and from my neck, spreading across my chest until his calloused hand eventually dives under my shirt, searching for a stiff nipple to play with as he pulls away from me once more, his eyes glazed with want and desperation as he watches me closely, a lazy smile upon his lips.
"Make those pretty sounds for me," Mike pleads breathily as he pinches particularly hard on my nipple. A short gasp escapes me, my cheeks turning red as my eyes flutter shut once more.
"Hey," Mike says in a firmer voice, lips quickly sealing onto mine once more as his tongue slips against mine needingly before he quickly pulls away. "Stay awake."
"I am awake," I pout softly. He tugs on my nipple again, forcing a small cry from me as he bites my bottom lip.
"Don't lie," Mike warns in a low, rough, almost growling voice. "You know I hate it when you lie."
It's not a lie!... Though admittedly I could see how it would be easy to slip into such bliss as Mike uses me. It's a somewhat arousing thought, the idea of him fucking me to sleep.
"I'm recording, you know," Mike teases as his other hand slips from my hair to the other side of my chest, both of my nipples now being abused by the older man as I pant openly, my hips finding his thick thigh between my legs. "Figured I could use the proof that you just don't like waking up in the morning to see if you'll finally listen to me."
"I listen to you," I protest. His nails scratch my nipples, making me loudly cry out at the touch.
"I said. Don't. Lie," Mike reminds me. "God, its like you want to be punished."
The idea makes my legs pull together in want, my hips dragging deliciously against Mike's thigh as I moan openly, wanting for nothing more than what he'd just suggested.
"You like that, pretty toy?" Mike asks softly against my ear, his teeth nipping at my lobe while one of his hands roughly grabs my chest, the other hand swirling his thumb in quick circles around my aching nipple. Fuck, Jesus. I could cum like this and I wouldn't protest.
"Maybe I just won't touch you," Mike says low in my ear, his voice predatory as I quicken my hips against his thigh which presses harder against me. "You seem to be eager to cum just like this. So easy, so fun to play with."
Mike shoves his tongue into my mouth once more, his hands shifting. One to my throat, one to my hip. He guides my body to quicken its pace against him, his hand occasionally smacking hard against my ass and even playing with the muscle as his eyes drift open to watch me.
"You like being my favorite toy, don't you?" Mike asks in a tired, low and aroused voice as he smirks. I nod slowly, stupid and sleepy against him. Mike smacks my ass again, grabbing and jiggling it roughly after. "Open your eyes when I'm talking to you," he commands. Stupidly I obey, eager to please him as I begin to feel my stomach constrict in pleasure at his touch.
"There you go. Good plaything. You're just so eager to please, aren't you?" Mike asks in a patronizing tone, leaning forward to graze his lips against mine. I move to press harder against them, but he pulls away, still leaving them close enough to tease me, waiting for me to try to swoop in again, then pulling away far enough I whine as I realize his evil game.
"You like older men playing with you, admit it," Mike says in a cocky tone, his hand dipping under my sweatpants to play with my bare ass. I moan in response to his words and his touch, but it doesn't seem to be enough.
"Say it," Mike orders softly, smiling at the sight of me. I blush, shaking my head slightly as I glance away. Mike grabs my ass roughly again, pressing his thigh harder against me as the look in his eye shifts to something slightly darker. "Say it."
I shake my head again, an unwilling smile growing more as Mike grabs harder, leaning in close enough to whisper threateningly, but ready to pull away if I dared to take advantage of the opportunity and kiss him.
"I like older men playing with me," I say in a soft, quick whisper before he can make another threat. His eyes turn gentle once again, and he drags me into another kiss, sweet and loving while he begins to shift his body to hover above mine, moving his thigh much to my displeasure.
"Look at that," Mike praises softly. "You can be so good when you want to be, can't you?"
Mike leans down to press his lips against my neck, biting roughly into it and making me cry out. He stays there for almost a minute, ensuring that there will be a dark bite mark obvious on my skin for the next week before he moves to the other side of my neck, repeating this process. I squirm underneath of him, moaning and crying out pathetically. His hard cock grazes against my leg, and once he finds it he begins to grind against it, releasing his own soft noises as he begins to lap at my blooming marks with his warm, wide tongue.
"Fuck me!" I whine against Mike's ear, nipping at his lobe and panting openly as my hand descends downwards, my fingers just brushing past the waistband of my pants when his own hand carefully but tightly grabs my wrist, moving to pin it just above my head as he uses my body to masturbate.
Mike doesn't respond to my plea. He simply moans as his hips increase in tempo, making it obvious how close he is already. Part of me wonders if this was meant to be a reenactment of his dream last night, or if maybe he'd been fucking himself beside me as I slept for who knows how long before he finally woke me in a moment of desperation. Both ideas make me faint with want.
I use my free hand to snatch a clump of dark curls on the back of his head, pulling them roughly to force him away from my neck. The pain makes him cry out in a deliciously broken voice, his hips stuttering before resuming in a slightly increased pace as his eyes shift to meet mine, a bright red coat of blush decorating his peaceful face, creating the perfect image of such a beautiful, desperate man.
"I asked you to fuck me," I seethe, tugging harshly on his hair again, making him cry out once more. His cock twitches against my leg, then suddenly he begins trying to crawl down my body, his hands grabbing at whatever flesh he can find as he bites harshly at my being, his slick tongue quick to soothe the marks as his amber eyes watch me pleadingly, begging for praise that I don't offer to him.
Mike's hands paw at my pants, dragging them down my hips without even undoing the tight drawstring that keeps the waistline fitted to me properly. The moment I feel the cold air begin to sink into my newly exposed skin, Mike's lips are quick to warm me once again, his tongue diving between my legs as he laps greedily, moaning as he teases my entrance with it. The wet muscle probs at me, tempting me to grab his hair and shove him against me while I ride his face, but I decide instead to pet his hair in non-verbal praise, driving him wild as his blush deepens. His large hands cup my ass, raising my hips off the bed slightly and spreading my legs wider, allowing him easier access to me.
"Stop being a tease," I moan lightly, digging my hand deeper into his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp. His voice cracks as he moans, slipping his tongue into me obediently as he plays with my ass. His own hips fuck the bed, slight trembling obvious as his lashes flutter shut, spit beginning to dribble down his chin as he quickly slides his tongue out and in, swirling it around inside of me and playing with my entrance every time he slips out.
I close my own eyes, pleasure making my back stiff as I hold his head between my thighs, hyperfocusing on the feeling of him tongue fucking me, the knot in my stomach tightening with every move, big or small. The noises he makes as he eats me out are improper, through and through. His voice makes insanity inducing vibrations that spread throughout me with each pathetic, high pitched moan. The bed creeks with every thrust of his hips against the old mattress. A part of me wonders if he's being so vocal for the tape currently recording us, paranoid that the cassette player on his nightstand may not be able to hear us properly. Another part of me likes to think that he's just this into it, so driven insane by my body that he just simply can't help the noises of pleasure that escape him. The idea makes me grip his hair tighter, my hips beginning to thrust harder against his face, making his voice rise in pitch as his eyes drift open, glazed and stupid while he admires me. His nails dig into my ass, his tongue hardly moving out of me now as he fucks me.
"You like it when I fuck your face like this?" I ask him, watching his blush grow as he nods against me, his hips quickening as I thrust harder into his mouth, my thighs tightening around his head. He looks so pretty like this, so utterly desperate.
"You want me to cum on your tongue?" I ask him, tugging his hair harder. He shakes his head, swirling his tongue around inside of me, making me groan lowly. "Where should I cum then?"
Mike slips his tongue out of me quickly, raising his head slightly as he speaks. "On my face," he says sweetly before diving back between my legs, lapping greedily at my entrance while I moan.
"Oh," I drawl slowly, letting him play with me while I watch. "You want me to paint that pretty face?"
Mike moans against me, sliding his tongue into me once more as he ruts against the bed, his eyes closing once more as he puts his all into the act.
"Do you like warming me up for your cock like this?" I ask him, giggling when he dives deeper inside of me in response. "Such a good way to get me ready to breed."
This seems to do the trick for Mike, his eyes snapping open to watch me as he fucks my hole desperately, moaning and panting as his tongue slides in and out, slick noises echoing throughout the room with each movement.
My breathing hitches in my throat as I fuck his face roughly, my stomach feeling tight as my orgasm edges closer, my teeth digging into my lower lip.
"I'm not gonna last much longer," I warn Mike, thrusting harder onto his rapid tongue while one of my hands begin to play with my now neglected nipple. One of Mike's hands quickly finds the other, both of us now playing with my chest to make me whine as I edge ever close, my eyes squeezing shut as I focus on my climax, my voice ragged and high as I moan for Mike to quicken his hand. He obeys immediately, his thumbnail flicking at the hard bud while his other hand squeezes my ass, nails digging into the cheek while he moans into me. I steal a look downwards at him, locking eyes with his now possessive glare while he watches me with eager satisfaction, silently begging me to come undone onto his face. And with such a beautiful, demanding man fucking me like this, who am I to say no?
"I'm coming," I stutter as the tight knot in my stomach begins to snap. "Fuck, Jesus, I'm coming!"
Mike moans in harmony with me, eyes widening in excitement as I pull him as tight against me as I can. My own eyes flutter shut, my hand clamping down over my mouth to muffle my sharp cries, my body trembling as my muscles stiffen, pleasure ripping through me to the point I clamp my thighs tight around Mike's head, pumping into his mouth with such vigor I'm almost worried he may not be able to breathe properly. But he doesn't ask me to stop, his pants soft and desperate as his own body shakes.
The force of my orgasm takes me by surprise, relaxation kicking in hard enough that when I close my eyes, it's hard to open them again. With each tremble from the waves pulsing through me I'm coaxed back into sleep, my muscles slowly relaxing one by one, my mind shutting off, and it doesn't take long before I can hear a deep voice in my ear, whining something much too loud for my tastes.
"Mm," I groan once again. "C'mere, come cuddle with m-"
"I asked you, very politely, to stay awake," Mike whispers in my ear. My eyes flutter open, blinking rapidly to adjust once more to the morning light. "What on earth am I going to do with you?"
In Mike's hand is a small washcloth, wiping away at the leftover cum I had painted his face with. Mike's hand is rubbing my thigh as he grazes his cock over my hole, teasing me as punishment.
"I'm sorry," I say softly, a blush rising to my cheeks as I try to put on my best act of innocence so maybe he'll skip the torture and go straight to fucking me.
"No," Mike drawls, his hand inching closer. "No, I don't think you are."
The tip of Mike's cock presses against my entrance, threatening to dip in, making me moan desperately.
"Shush," Mike soothes me, wrapping his hand around my throat slowly, finger by finger. "Don't wake the rest of the house."
Mike slips his middle finger inside of me, pumping quickly and hard. I whimper quietly, which seems to be too loud for his taste.
"I said be quiet," Mike whispers patiently as he carefully squeezes my throat. I try to reach for his hair only to discover my hands have been bound to the bedframe by some sort of cloth.
"You like my tie, sweet thing?" Mike asks sweetly, slamming harder into me. I can hear the increasing volume of the smacking inside me as he fucks me with his hand, sounding so delicious as he curls his fingers just right. Mike leans in closer, running his tongue over the bottom of my lip before shoving it inside of my mouth to claim me once again. I moan loudly, giving in fully to desire as he has his way with me. Mike pulls away instantly, choking me hard enough my airflow is slightly restricted. His ring finger slips inside of me right before he begins to slam inside of me with all of his strength, making me gasp pathetically while he ruins my tightening hole, my legs trembling as I arch my back, pressing against his smooth tie. I wrap the longer end around my palm, tugging at it in desperation. Mike bites down on my neck again, and I'm about to cry out when the doorbell buzzes throughout the living room, making us both jolt in surprise at the sudden interruption.
"No, no, no, no!" I whine, my eyes wide as I feel Mike thrust into me one final time as hard as he can before pulling away, leaving me empty and trembling while he stands from the bed. "Come back, come back!"
Mike looks cocky and pleased with himself while he pulls a sweater on over his head, glancing back over his shoulder at me for just a second.
"Just go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'll handle it," he coos like an asshole.
"B-but I'm not- we-"
Mike is out the door before I can protest, our unexpected guest buzzing once more in clear irritation at the slow response to their arrival. Who the fuck even is it? It's hardly even seven!
Disappointed and frustrated, I slump against the bed, clearly pouting as I hear Mike open the front door. And Abby is slipping out of her room now too, her young voice muffled through the walls as she greets Aunt Jane, apparently.
Oh my god.
Not fucking fair!
                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤
You know, I wasn't gonna write this. I just pulled a bunch of tags out of my ass when I originally posted the fake fic, but then I decided you guys took the joke so well that you all deserved a little treat. Say 'thank you, Dani.' <3
I may be an asshole, but I'm not evil. So, I expanded my regular taglist to include the horny fucks that got trolled so they could read my bullshitted glory. You're welcome 😌 (would love to have you join the taglist full time, btw!):
@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool @laurrrelise @orchidmothh @mystargirl-interlude @freak-accident419 @fatinhadesiners06 @mrjsbunny @futureman @sleepyhutcherson @lile6969 @heartsoremania @bowerssz51 @nick-nacker @joshhutchersonsgf @kathybernice @janitorhutcherson @sofiehutch. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3
Happy April fools day, everyone. Thanks for following, reblogging and commenting. See you next time!
                •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•
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freak-accident419 · 11 months ago
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Good Tidings
Josh Futturman x GN!Reader
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Summary: You and Josh barely have any time to yourselves due time traveling nonstop, trying to save the fate of humanity. However, being at the Futturman’s Christmas dinner party granted you two a fair amount of time.
Word Count: 2.9k
Content: 18+ Smut, MDNI, gender neutral reader (no genitals specified, it’s just vague penetration), cockwarming, lots of fluff, takes place during Future Man S1E6 “A Blowjob Before Dying”, too much shitty sex jokes n puns (im sorry) (not), giddy+silly+sweet love making, you think you are sooo fucking funny, more goofy than serious/lustful, you two are very much in love, more plot (high ass dialogue) than porn tbh
(A/n: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!! Hope you enjoy this muahahaha and thank you all for your recent support! First smut written on this account, so be gentle with me please !)
-
You, Tiger, Wolf, and Josh were at the Futturman household, schedule disrupted due to the reluctance of Josh’s parents. They insisted that you all join them for their small Christmas dinner party. You were all sat down at the dining table, as well as the neighbors, Josh’s Uncle Barry, and Diane’s friend, Wanda (who was especially invited to perhaps keep Barry at bay).
While Tiger was mostly impatient and displeased with every mindless convo and laughter, talk revolved around several topics like DNA kits or Wolf’s strangely fascinating culinary.
You sat beside your boyfriend, Josh, slightly nervous about the time you were wasting. Ever since you’ve been dragged into the whole ‘Biotic Wars is real’ and ‘kill or be killed’ shit, you and Josh have been dealing with the worst, unimaginable shit ever. With the two of your adrenaline wearing off, you gradually processed everything that’s happened the past few days since you were never given a break. Hence the hand holding under the table as you two would seek comfort from one another.
But you attempted to distract yourself from the deaths you’ve witnessed and the near-death experiences you’ve had to your best ability by indulging in every conversation.
“Gabe, honey, tell them about—about the recent fishing trip we went on,” Josh’s mother, Diane encouraged to her husband with her sweet, achingly kind voice. You had so much respect for Josh’s parents, so it was pretty easy for you all to hit it off well. They loved you. In fact, they were heavily relieved that Josh had finally found someone, let alone someone as amazing as you.
Gabe let out a hearty chuckle as he prepared himself to tell the table his story.
“So, a couple of days ago, Diane and I went on a small fishing trip. And I remembered an old trick back in the day that attracted a lot of trout,” he explained as you picked up your glass of wine, sipping some generously. Diane smiled at him with a nod as he continued. “One of the very efficient ways to go about fish bait is blowing worms.”
You choke on your wine, holding in a laugh, coughing a bit instead as Josh looks at you with a knowing smile. “I’m sorry, what?” You asked, trying not to grin too widely. Did you hear that right?
“Blowing worms,” Gabe repeated, getting a confined chuckle out of you and Josh. “You inflate the worms with air, which makes them float instead of having your bait be at the very bottom. It’s perfect, especially near the winter time. Worked like a charm.”
“Ohh,” you gasp in wonder. You chuckle to yourself before you spontaneously say, “Yeah, actually, I think I did do that a few times. Blew a-a worm.”
You looked at Josh, thinking you were being hilarious, but he looked at you with surprised eyes and parted lips of shock that slowly transitioned into a smile.
“Really?” Josh’s father expressed with intrigue. “I didn’t even know you fish. You have someone teach you that method, or—”
“Oh, no, Mr. Futturman, I,” you speak as you occasionally switch from looking at him to Josh. “I think it’s a very popular method. It’s a pretty natural instinct, you know? Blowing worms, that is.”
“Wow, really? Always thought it was an old-fashioned sort of thing.”
“Nah, far from old-fashioned, it’s almost contemptuous!”
You did pretty well at suppressing your laughter, because you sounded really earnest. Josh covered his mouth, amused by your subtle humor.
“Joshy, we didn’t know that Y/n likes fishing. We could’ve taken them on our trip. In fact, we could’ve all went,” Diane suggests as she looked at Josh and then you.
It was like everyone at the table was blind to your immature, yet humorous implication. Except, of course, your boyfriend.
“Oh, no worries, Mrs. Futturman,” you insisted kindly. “I don’t usually fish. Plus, blowing worms can be very exhausting.”
“Y/n—” Josh reacted, but interrupted himself with a suppressed laugh.
“You think so?” Mr. Futturman raised an eyebrow. “I just stick a syringe in them, inflate it, and bam, it’s all thick and ready to g—”
You and Josh burst out laughing, holding onto the table and each other. You swore there were slight tears coming out of your eyes as both of your faces were red. You felt overjoyed to feel happiness and delight for the first time ever since your involvement in the mission. And you felt even more glad that it was your boyfriend that you fooled around with.
“Sorry, sorry,” Josh says after his laughter died down as the entire table was confused. “I just—We just thought about a, um, moment when—Um… Actually, Y/n and I did go fishing once. Isn’t that—isn’t that right?”
You nod and go along with it, detaining your giggles.
“Well, anyways, we actually did that method, and yeah, you’re right, it works like a charm!” He exclaimed with joy as his parents smile at him with approval and pride.
“Bet the worm was pretty small, huh?” Tiger jumped in wittily, however, in a coldly nonchalant manner.
“And pathetic!” Wolf blurted.
“Hey, even if that might’ve been true—might’ve—it-it probably had a personality, you know?” He reckoned with a shrug, making you laugh again.
***
“You are—are fucking terrible, you know that?” Josh quickly muttered under his breath as you two continued to kiss each other deeply on his bed. “Those were my parents.”
“C’mon, baby, admit it, it was comedy gold,” you giggle, pressing your lips to his once more by tugging his black, skinny necktie towards you as you remained sitting on his lap.
The dinner party was still going on downstairs. After a long time of looking at each other longingly at the table, you two decided to excuse yourselves in order to “prepare gifts for Josh’s coworkers that he forgotten to wrap” in his room.
When you guys rushed in his room, you couldn’t take your hands off each other, immediately making out once the door was locked. However, you then had to close all his blinds before you met him back on the bed. This wasn’t new to you, none of it was. The soft, warm orange that his room’s light emitted strangely comforted you, as well as being back on his soft, spacey mattress.
Was it a good idea to leave Tiger and Wolf alone with Josh’s family and company? Probably not. But you’ve taught them enough shit. They tolerate Josh’s parents, so why not a few other guests as well? And you’ll only be gone for no longer than five minutes, you’d hoped.
You bring your hands to his pants, attempting to unbuckle his belt. “Shit—What the—What the fuck is this?” You grumble, Josh laughing at you as you struggle.
“I think it’s—” He giggled, bringing his own hands to his belt, trying to remove it, pulling. “I think it’s stuck.”
“What the shit?” You wheeze. “Fuckin’—Fuckin’ cock block!” You continue to mess with the belt, trying your best to unbuckle it.
“Wait, you—you’re almost there, you—”
“Oh my god! Holy shit! I got it!” You let out a surprised gasp, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants right after.
“Oh shit! Flawless victory!” He exclaimed, making you stop in your tracks, looking back up at him.
“You did not just quote Mortal Kombat because I successfully unbuckled your belt,” you raise an eyebrow, nevertheless amused by his dorkiness.
“Maybe,” he answered smugly.
“You’re lucky I am in love with you, otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have let that slide,” you chuckle.
“Oh, come on. You’d love my video game references either way,” he insisted.
“I’m serious, Josh, the amount of things I’ve let slide because I love you is kind of crazy. Let me just say, I am so glad I met you after the ‘apple juice’ incident that Ray told me about.”
“Ray told you about that?”
“He told me a lot of things. Mostly the embarrassing things. I think he wanted to freak me out, you know? Always thought I was too good for you.”
You pulled his pants off, throwing it carelessly down on the floor. Your lips attached once more as he snickered as you then cupped his face with your warm hands. You look at your lover, his big, brown, desperate eyes looking at you with utmost adoration. “Well, jokes on him, he was entirely wrong. You are so good to me, you know that?”
He smiles at you softly, and you could sense how flustered he felt to hear that (the blushing patently gave it away). “You’re the one who’s been on my side since forever. Even when you got involved in all this shit that you didn’t even have to be in. You-You could’ve called me crazy, and-and broken up with me, but you believed me and stayed by my side, even knowing that things were gonna get dirty. And they did, get really dirty.” Rest in peace Janis and Carl? Or, rather, die, you evil perf-cocks? Eh, doesn’t fucking matter. “You’re so good for me, sometimes I can’t believe you’re even real.”
You giggle sweetly as you give him another kiss, a quiet smack caused by your lips deftly leaving his own to speak. “Well, I’m here and I’m real, and I’ll always be there for you, baby,” you reassure. You were perfect for him. Indefinitely.
He smiled blissfully. “I love you so much.”
You two made out passionately until you were laying under him, the lower halves of your bodies bare as you discarded the necessary clothes.
“Do you think your parents and everyone else knew about the worm thing or are they just that… I don’t know… clueless?” You asked endearingly under your breath as your fingers entangle in his soft, brown hair.
“Hmm. Possibly,” he reckons, raising his eyebrows as he thought about it. “That was still kind of evil of you, though.”
“Me, personally, I thought it was hilarious.”
“Blowing worms?”
“C’mon, your father set himself up for that.”
“Tiger called it small,” he muttered lamentably. “And Wolf said it was pathetic.”
“Jeez, whatever happened to personality?” You chuckle softly.
He sighed. “They still sort of called me out.”
“Shut up. It’s average, to say the least. Doesn’t matter either way, you’re enough.”
“But—”
“Josh, if it bothers you this much, then just prove them wrong right now,” you reply with a laugh.
“As in—?”
“Josh, c’mon, we don’t have time anyways. They’re expecting us any minute because of that shitty made-up story excuse. I love foreplay, dude, but I’m pretty sure we didn’t acknowledge the time at all. Quickies are definitely not our cup of tea. Y—” Your breath hitched as you felt his tip prod at your sensitive entrance. He gave you a soft, comforting kiss on the nose. You looked into each other’s eyes deeply, then your lips crashed into each other’s as the two of you stifled your moans once Josh finally thrusted in.
“Y-You know you’re p-perfect just the—mm—way you are, right?” You ask gently, wrapping your arms around his neck.
He smiled at this, kissing your lips once more, beginning to move. Your heart fluttered each second you felt him thrust in and out, slightly and satisfyingly stretching you. His hips moved quite skillfully, but also slightly clumsily, which was nonetheless admirable.
Your usual soft moans and gasps would be replaced by stifled grunts and sighs, due to the company downstairs. As much as you wanted the whole world to know that Josh Futturman was yours and only yours, you also had dignity—plus, it was his goddamn parents downstairs.
You giggled as you felt his nose against yours each rough kiss. “Y-You know, however, I think the only complaint I have about you is the fact that you hate Super Mario Bros.” You point out with a chuckle.
“Y/n, in my—agh—defense, it literally makes no sense. Like, why would there be pipes that are—”
“Okay, why rely solely on logic and rationality, hm, Futturman? I thought video games were all about escape. It’s all just harmless fun.”
“Yeah, well, I’m much more into games with thought-out plots and challenges,” he remarked, making you roll your eyes playfully. “Anyways, it pretty much just got ruined for me even more when Tracy at the video game store talked about Luigi having a very hairy, Italian cock.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“Baby, I love you. However, your goddamn dick is currently inside of me. Please do not talk about Luigi’s theoretic hairy penis.”
“Noted,” he assents, going back to kissing you passionately, while moving slowly inside of you, yet deeper with each thrust. You let out a quiet, pleasured gasp as you felt him fill you perfectly, his hands lovingly gripping your waist to keep you still.
Your eyes closed as you indulged in the feeling of his gentle thrusts, him peppering kisses on your neck, softly chuckling under his breath. He guessed he was still in disbelief that he had someone as amazing as you.
“I… I still can’t believe someone as perfect as you would ever go out with a loser like me,” he scoffed, pressing more kisses against your neck and jaw.
“Hey, seriously?” You frown, holding his face in your hands once more, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You are… a lot of things, Josh. But a loser isn’t one of them. Okay? You are so kind and funny and caring and thoughtful a-and—m-mm—amazing i-in general.”
“I—Fuck. I—I don’t deserve you,” he panted.
“J-Jesus Christ, sh-shut your fuckin’ rathole. Yes you do, baby. You deserve me as much as I deserve you.”
It was becoming harder to focus on your words as you continued to feel an increased sensation and pleasure as his thrusts quicken and falter. You let out a small gasp as you tense things up by wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him in even deeper. You two had been speaking and giggling to each other constantly that you didn’t even notice the lewd, wet, slapping against the skin that came from each heavy thrust. Josh grabbed one of your hands, interlocking your fingers tightly on the mattress beside your head.
“J-Josh, I—” You begin breathlessly.
“I know, me too,” he grunts as soft, inaudible whimpers and whines leave his lips while the movement of his hips stuttered. His rhythm was becoming unsteady, but it was also increasing in speed. “I—Y/n, f-fuck, I’m c—”
“Sh-shit, baby, I—” You pant as you felt closer and closer over the edge, every mere feeling increasing your stimulation. You bring your hand to cover your mouth and suppress any loud moans as you finally released, the knot in your stomach undoing itself as you sigh afterwards once your hand left your mouth. Josh came exactly right after you as his hips jolted for the final time, spilling his warm, white seed inside of you, burying his face in your neck to muffle a high-pitched grunt and acute whines.
You two were breathing heavily, kissing each other’s lips softly and lovingly after you both came down from your high. You two never moved from your position, still fragile and sore. Josh caressed the side of your waist under your shirt, his head resting in your neck as you moved your hand to play with his hair, holding him in your arms.
“This is probably the only time we’ll have together alone before we have to continue with the damn mission,” you figured, tangling his strands of hair in between your fingers.
“It’s bullshit,” he mumbles, his thumb continuing to rub your waist.
“Enjoy the moment while we can?” You suggested with a small chuckle.
“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed dejectedly.
A beat.
“Hm,” you hum thoughtfully.
“Yeah?”
“Nothing, I just… I like it whenever you’re inside of me,” you comment softly. This was probably the most affectionately vulnerable and honest you have been with him. Your tone lacked any intention for humor or lust; you were genuine.
He lifted his head up from your neck. “Seriously?”
“I don’t know. It just feels right. You know, as if you were, like, made for me exactly,” you whispered lovesickly, looking down at his sweet, plump lips to his profound, gorgeous brown eyes. “I wanna stay like this a little longer. You’re so perfect for me. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” he replied with a smile, kissing your lips soothingly.
Then suddenly,
“Futturman! L/n! Get out of there, we gotta go now! Operation Cameronium!” Tiger called from the other side of the door. “Goddamnit. The fucking—tiny man—baby thing—is, just, really starting to piss me off. Let’s go!”
You and Josh looked at each other for a while in silence before bursting out into laughter.
“We-we better go before she considers murdering little baby Wallace,” you suggest with a soft smile.
“Yeah… Wait. Do you really think—”
“No…” You answer before he could finish his sentence. “I know she seems all stoic on the outside, but I feel like the past few days, she changed a bit. Empathy-wise. Slightly, at the very least.” Josh nods.
“I’m really gonna miss this,” he sighs.
“Me too. But don’t worry, once we fix everything, we have all the time in the world together,” you assert.
“Okay,” he smiles sweetly, kissing your lips before slowly pulling out of you, leaving you to feel empty and slightly bummed.
The two of you, with your clothes back on and hair quickly fixed, you waltzed downstairs with no problem. Your hands had been interlocked, faces a bit flushed as you smile to yourselves.
“You two sure look happy,” Diane expresses joyfully. “You really got into the Christmas spirit, wrapping all those gifts upstairs, huh?”
You giggled under your breath. “Oh, yeah, definitely, Mrs. Futturman. Uh, very much so. I really love Christmas, you know? The gift wrapping Joshy and I did upstairs and, you know, all the Christmas traditions. ‘Specially, ‘specially the yule log.” You look at Josh with a knowing grin as he just listened in, suspecting nothing at all. “Really makes you feel warm inside, am I right?”
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dorkszn · 9 months ago
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⋆˚✩ post fnaf movie mike headcanon
nsfw warning!! bad writing warning 😭
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since mike has made with peace with his brother’s kidnapping, he didn’t really need the nature noises (he still needs the medication sometimes.) but sleeping in silence felt too weird for him, it felt off. he couldn’t stand to sit in the quiet with his thoughts.
to help him, you suggest that he find something else to listen to and then try to move away from it gradually.
mike being the perv that he is, he jokes about recording you guys while he was fucking both your brains out and listening to that. you rolled your eyes at him, not knowing how serious he was.
now, mike (sometimes) falls asleep to sounds of you moaning and crying out his name.
+ the times he doesn’t fall asleep is because he gets turned on from the audio.
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