#michaeljonesxreader

[takeyourfic]

How about a fic based on Here's To Us by Halestorm? GTA!Michael or something? If that doesn't inspire you feel free to delete! :)

I’m so glad that one of my first requests back is a FAHC!Michael fic, because well… I live for them!! Thanks so much for the prompt!! I tried to write it based on the prompt without being too meta, so I hope you like it!! xx

Pairing: Michael Jones x Reader

Word Count: 397

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, alcohol, and knives.

“Michael?” You ask, shutting the door quietly behind you. Hearing nothing in reply, you tiptoe over to Michael’s bed. “Michael?” In the darkness of his room, you can barely see his chest rising and falling as he breathes. His breaths are long and heavy, letting you know he’s deep in sleep. You sigh. You don’t want to wake him, but you need him. You need his help.

You stand there in silence for a moment. Maybe you didn’t need to wake him. You could let him sleep longer and just wait for him to wake up on his own. You could let him rest. He doesn’t get much of that anymore. Your leg throbs and you glance down at the gash in it. You wouldn’t last that long. You have to wake him.

“Michael, please wake up.” You run your fingers across his forehead, brushing his hair out of his face. As soon as you make contact with him, he sits bolt upright. One hand wrapped around your wrist tightly, the other holding a knife to your throat.

“Don’t try anything!” He yells. His eyes hold fury and then confusion. His eyebrows come together and he blinks at you a few times. “(Y/n)?” Your eyes flash downward, towards the knife, and you slowly and gently nod. He slowly brings the knife down, dropping it on the bed and releasing your wrist. You stand up then, stumbling a bit, and heading into the kitchen.

“This needs stitches,” you mumble, glancing behind you to see that he’s already grabbing his medical kit. You drop down into a chair at the kitchen table. He sets the kit down and then pours you both a glass of whiskey.

“You’re going to need this.” He slides a glass over to you and then gently lifts your leg, placing it across his lap. You down the whiskey and reach for the bottle. With shaky hands, you pour another glass.  

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, staring down at the table. “It’s just… Just this one more time.” You take a deep breath, waiting for him to start.

“Hey.” Your eyes meet his and he raises his glass to yours, making them clink against one another. He smirks then. “Here’s to us!”

[rtscrobbles]

hmm maybe a "you always this quiet" with shy reader and michael jones

Sweeping your hair behind your ears, you lower your head and walk towards the office. You hated making eye-contact, it always made you anxious. Not only that, but you were always scared to open your mouth to even make a comment because of things that happened in your past. People told you to just “get over it” but you couldn’t. There was still an invisible force preventing you from speaking, even if that’s what your job entices.

You had gotten an internship with Achievement Hunter, you had mixed emotions about it but over-all you loved it. Everyone understood that you very rarely spoke and respected that; they left you alone. You were asked to fill in Trevor’s place in this week’s AHWU. You were so used to working behind the camera that this was just way out of your comfort zone and you couldn’t say no because your boss asked you and you felt like you’d just be disappointing him by saying no. Though, everyone was so encouraging and excited for you.

“Hey Y/N!” A loud voice greets, waving at you.

You lift your head up and give Michael a solemn, polite smile. You hadn’t had much interaction with him at all due to being completely segregated from the main six but still within the same office complex but you also made an effort to avoid unnecessary chitchat.

“Everything okay?” Michael questions, tilting his head to the side with a concerned look. You nod, giving him a weak smile before brushing past him. You wish you could just tell him – someone – that you didn’t know to respond to anything. Still, you could feel Michael’s concern radiating from him.

“Y/N,” He stops you in your path, “Are you always this quiet? Is something wrong?”

You wanted to cry; another thing you hated was confrontation. You just broke down sobbing, right in front of him. You hated yourself, so god damn weak..

Michael kneels down in front of you, unsure of what to do to. “Y/N, I-I’m sorry if I said anything wrong – I didn’t mean to…” Guilt laced his voice as he watched you.

“It’s okay,” You give him a weak smile, wiping away your tears.

“Holy shit you do speak!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, anyone else you would be offended but the way Michael said it just made you happy and comfortable. He helps you up and wipes away any tears that you missed.

“Michael?”

“Yeah?”

“C-could you be on AHWU with me today… I don’t want to do it alone and well, I’d feel slightly better with you,”

“No problem!” He smiles, walking you into the main Achievement Hunter office.

[woah-rt-xreader-blog]

Yay i'm so glad to ask things again!! Could you please do some sort of Michael fic that it quite long. Something like he's your soulmate and there's like lots of fluff that would be fab! I love your writing like so much! 💖

((Omg thank you!! Just a warning there is one cuss word, violence and blood in this! Don’t worry no angst thought.))

It was the little things that created the most vivid memories. Counting freckles instead of sheep. The little imprints on the side of his nose when his glasses were too tight. Learning to sleep through yelling when he was recording. Figuring out how to make his favorite meals. Late night kisses in the dark. Everyone always said they never expected the relationship to blossom the way it did. But you knew. You always knew. You didn’t need any mark to tell you.

It started years back when the two of you were in high school together. Seeing Michael in class was a rarity, but when he was forced to show up you knew you weren’t going to be taking any notes that day. Never had the two of you spoken to each other but you took in every word he said and craved his attention. Listening to the jokes he whispered to his friends. Watching his bored face zone out during a lecture. You weren’t really content all alone in your little bubble of love but you were resigned to stay there.

The only thing that ever made you to approach him was when one day he got into a bad fight at school. People loved to poke him because of his temper but things got out of hand. No one knew who threw the first punch but your heart sunk when you saw the crowd of people jeering. You forcefully pushed your way through the horde and saw Michael on the ground getting the shit kicked out of him.

You don’t know why and you don’t know how but it felt like all the anger you had ever felt in your life made its way to your knuckles and your hands turned hot. Throwing off your backpack you charged towards the bully and knocked him to the ground. Pinning his shoulders to the ground with your knees you drove your fists into his face over and over and over until they were covered in mucus and blood from punching his nose. You stopped when you felt a tooth slice your skin.

Eventually you stood up, drawing in dry gasps of air. The hard pounding of your heart and adrenaline made it feel like you just couldn’t get enough oxygen. Regardless, you turned to Michael who was sitting up and looking at you in awe. You extended your hand down to him:

“Are you okay?” You managed to speak through your panting. He continued to stare, unsure of how to respond.

“You’re beautiful.” He sputtered, his eyes still blown wide.

To this day you still loved having the first words he ever said to you imprinted on your wrist. It was always there whenever he was gone for long periods of time to comfort you on the lonely nights. But tonight wasn’t one of those nights.

You played with his curls as he slept on your chest with one of his legs draped over both of yours. Listening to his steady breathing put you at ease and you timed your inhales and exhales with his. The window in your bedroom was open and your watched the curtains ruffle in the light breeze. The only sound was the distant chirps of the crickets calling to their mates. Pale moonlight illuminated his sleeping face and you couldn’t help but touch. It was too picturesque to resist.

Michael stirred from your touch and wiped the sleep from his eyes.

“Is something wrong, babe?” His voice was lazy with sleep. You shook your head in response.

“Not at all. Just restless I guess.” He moved from his comfortable spot and hovered over you for a moment before brining his lips to meet yours. The kiss was filled with appreciation for all the kindness and light your brought to his life. It was warm, loving, and he held you in his grasp for a long while and only stopped when he felt his thanks was given. Eventually he retreated back to his cuddly position and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“After all that you’re just going back to sleep?”

“Just wanted to let you know you’re still the only one for me.” Michael yawned and went back to dreamland. The way his words still made your heart flutter let you know that you two would be together forever.

[takeyourfic]

Tear You Apart

Okay!! Here it is!! The first chapter of my gta!au fic!! Please please let me know what you think!! I hope you all love it!! xx

Pairing: Michael Jones x Reader

Word Count:1392

Warnings: Abusive Relationship, Swearing, Alcohol, Mentions of Sex (General FAHC stuff)

Summary: You’re told from a young age not to get mixed in with the “wrong crowd,” but how can someone prepare you for this?

Scanning the club for the umpteenth time this evening, you search for any signs of... Well anything really. You're not sure what you're looking for. You just know that you're supposed to be looking for something. Your boss is almost always cryptic with his instructions. You don't particularly enjoy having to figure it out as you go, but that's just how it is. He gives you little to no instruction and you listen to him. Everyone does. No one dares to question his methods and if you can't find it in yourself to figure out what you're supposed to do... Let's just say that the result is something that everyone understands.

The room is filled with people, despite the club's exclusiveness. Your eyes continue to scan the room, but you don't notice anything odd. No one stands out to you. You glance towards the booth in the back left corner and you lock eyes with the man sitting there. He's young. Tall with dirty blond hair. It's your boss. Torin.

He's leaning back against his seat, his arms folded across his chest. His eyes are trained on you and when you look at him, he smiles and winks at you. You smile softly back at him, feeling a bit nervous that you hadn't noticed him watching you until now. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching you? You're not sure, but you can almost guarantee that he's not impressed by your performance thus far.

Being on the job, and the now added pressure of your boss watching your every move, the atmosphere of the club is starting to get to you. You tug at the collar of your dress, fanning yourself with your hand. You mouth, "It's hot," to him and then point to the door that leads outside. Your eyes flick over to the door and for a split second you contemplate going outside before he answers, but you know better. When your eyes meet his again, the smile is no longer on his face. He's taken on a more serious expression and he simply, and slowly, shakes his head.

You sigh, but nod your head in acceptance. When you turn around to face the bar, you notice a man that wasn't there before. The man is leaning against the counter, attempting to get the bartender's attention.

"Can I get a beer over here?!" His voice is loud and thick with annoyance. The bartender looks at him with disgust and then nods, reaching under the bar to grab a beer from the cooler. "Also, whatever she wants!" The man jabs a thumb in your direction. The sleeve of his brown leather jacket slides up his arm slightly, exposing a bit of a tattoo. He clears his throat and you realize that you had been staring. At this point, he's now facing you, beer in hand, with a smirk on his face. "Well? Tell the man what you're having, so that he can go on to ignore someone else." He stretches his arm out to gesture to the bartender, shooting him a look and then grinning at you.

"Sparkling water," you manage to blurt out, smiling. You glance over to where your boss was sitting just moments ago, knowing that he wouldn't like seeing you with another man. He must have had some business to take care of, because he's no longer at the table. The stranger follows your gaze and then returns his attention back to you.

"No alcohol, huh?" The man asks. The bartender hands you your drink and then turns to attend to some other customers. "Helps me to forget all of my mistakes." He holds his beer up to his lips and then takes a swig, waiting for you to respond to him.

"I don't want to forget," you start, putting your straw in between your lips. You obviously can't explain to him that you can't have alcohol, because you're working right now. He would probably be curious about your line of work and that's not the kind of attention you need at the moment. "I want to remember every mistake that I make." You're not being watched anymore, so you relax some. Your voice takes on a flirtier tone. He raises an eyebrow, lowering his beer bottle and you sip on your water.

"You don't look like you've done a bad thing in your life," he laughs out. "You look too nice." He sets his beer down on the countertop of the bar. "Name one bad thing that you would do." Standing upright, he crosses his arms over his torso and a smirk plays on his lips. You look up at him through your lashes. Eyes innocent as can be.

"Well what's your name?" The words are out of your mouth before you even understand them. He looks taken aback for a moment and then he's grinning.

"I'm Michael," he says reaching his hand out to you. "And I would love to be your next mistake." You shocked yourself as much as you shocked him, but you manage to keep up the facade. You set your drink down next to his and reach out to grab his hand.

"I'm..."

"(Y/N)!" You're startled by a voice from behind you and you stiffen, yanking your hand away from Michael. His eyebrows come together in confusion, as he looks over your shoulder. "Michael, isn't it?" You don't have to look to know who it is. "I'm Torin. I'd guess you probably know that since you're here to see me." Michael drops his hand and nods once, a stern look on his face. "Follow me."  

Torin puts a hand on the small of your back and leads you and Michael into a storage room at the back of the building. A large man, whom you know to be one of Torin's security guards, shuts the door behind you. He stands in front of the door, blocking the exit. The room is filled with an uncomfortable silence until he speaks again.

"So I see you've met (y/n)?" He gestures towards you. Michael looks at you and you immediately drop your gaze to the floor. "She's stunning, isn't she?" He walks around you and then comes to a halt, putting an arm around your waist. "But you see..." There's a pause and then he pulls you into his side, making you gasp. "She belongs to me. Isn't that right, darling?"

"Yes, Sir." You speak quietly. You don't waste any time in answering the question as soon as he ends it.

"(Y/N), honey. Don't mumble." His voice is soft in your ear.

"Yes, Sir." You speak up instantly, but you continue to stare at the floor.

"Well now you're just being rude." He grabs your chin in his hand and forces you to look at Michael. Michael's hands are now fists and you can see the anger radiating from him. "I must apologize for her behavior." Torin drops his hand and you continue looking forward, not wanting to upset him further. "On to business!" He waves his hand towards Michael. Michael tears his  eyes from you and looks at Torin.

"Geoff sent me to finalize our merger," he spits out, trying to keep his composure.

"Yes. Well, I know he's listening," he points to his ear, suggesting that Michael has an earpiece in. "So let him know that he needs to meet me in person at my boat docks tomorrow evening or he can consider our treaty null and void." Michael nods, his eyes on you again. "You can go."

"I'll let him know," he replies, through gritted teeth. And with that, he turns and pushes his way through the door.

[takeyourfic]

Ahhhh!!! Prompts are back open!! I compulsively check your blog like 1000000x per day. :D can you do an FAHC!Michael on a heist? You are totally amazing, I love this blog!

Oh wow! You have no idea how happy this made me! Thank you for all of the kind words! I will absolutely write more FAHC!Michael. (Not like that’s my favorite or anything lol) xx

Word Count: 891

Warnings: Blood, Violence

“Michael. (y/n). The two of you better fucking stick together!” Geoff’s voice is stern through your ear piece and you sigh, as he continues speaking. “I’m serious.” You poke your head out, from the desk you’re crouched behind, to look across the room at Michael. He glances towards you at the same time. You make eye contact and you roll your eyes at Michael as he shakes his head.

“Geoff we’ll be fine,”  you respond, whispering, in an attempt to reassure him. “As long as Michael isn’t an asshole.” You smirk at Michael and he flips you off.

“No arguing!” Geoff’s voice is much more abrasive this time and you know he means business. “I’m turning the coms off to avoid interference,” he states, adding a warning for the two of you, “Do not fuck this up.”

“Alright. Alright. Temporary truce.” Michael sighs and holds his hands up in surrender, palms facing you. You nod back at him, opening your mouth to speak. Before you’re able to say anything, you hear a ping as something hits the metal of the desk. You immediately duck back down. Ping ping. Someone is shooting at you.

“Michael!” You whisper out, harshly. “Cover me!” You take a chance and peek out around the desk, trying to see Michael. His body is completely hidden behind a filing cabinet. Ping. Another bullet flies towards you, hitting just next to you and you quickly retreat again. “Michael! I’m being shot at!”

“I know!” He practically shouts back at you. “I’m working on it!” Ping ping ping. You hear gunshots again, but this time they aren’t coming towards you. Hearing a grunt and a thump on the floor, you sneak a look around the desk again. Michael is standing in front of the filing cabinet, gun aimed at the body on the floor. “Take that, shithead.” He looks towards you and smirks. “You can come out and thank me now.” His smirk turns into a grin, as you stand up and make your way around the desk.

“Yeah yeah,” you cross your arms over your chest and mumble out a, “Thanks,” walking over to stand on the other side of the body. You crouch down and check their pulse. Nothing. “They’re definitely not going to be a going to be a problem anymore.”

“Damn right!” Michael crouches down, as well. “I aim to kill.” He reaches out, patting the body down and checking for anything of importance. You stand back up and glare at him.

“Your aim sucks then,” you scoff. “It took you three shots while ‘aiming to kill,’” you respond, chuckling. He stops what he’s doing and looks up at you.

“I don’t think I’ll save you next time.” He shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. Standing up, he holds a keycard out to you. You reach out to take it from him and then pause, hearing a noise coming from behind him. You see someone step out from the darkness, gun in hand.

“Look out!” Shoving him to the side, you bring your gun up and fire with no hesitation. You pull the trigger sooner than the other person. Your bullet hits them directly in the chest and they fall to the floor, dropping their gun. As the gun hits the carpet, it fires, sending a bullet into your leg and you stumble backwards, tripping over the first body and tumbling to the ground. Michael is at your side in a second, pulling his shirt over his head and ripping a strip off of it to use as a tourniquet. He ties it around your leg and pulls out his phone.

“Geoff! (Y/n) has been shot!” He runs a hand through his hair. “Send in Mica and Jeremy, we’re done here.” He pauses and then speaks again, looking side-eyed at you. “Okay. Just hurry.” He hangs up the phone, slides it back into his pocket and adjusts the tourniquet.

“Ow! Fuck!” You groan out in pain. “I don’t think I’ll save you next time.” You say, mocking his tone from earlier and chuckling through gritted teeth.

“Don’t.” He turns to you. “Don’t you ever fucking do that again,” he spits out, staring down at your leg.

“I think the words you’re looking for are you’re and welcome,” you chuckle again. He moves your leg, slightly, to get a better look at the wound. “Shit! Okay!” You groan again and try to shove him away from your leg. Instead of moving away, he grabs your hand in his.

“Please,” he whispers, not looking at you, “Don’t do that again.” You stare at him, confused.

“Michael, I’m okay,” you reply to him, trying to keep your voice even through the pain. You reach forward and turn his face towards yours, smiling at him. “Look who cares.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He smiles softly, and looks down at your hand, still holding it.

“Seriously though. Look.” you point to the second body and grin when he looks over at it, “That is how you aim to kill.”

[takeyourfic]

Could you do a jealous Michael fic? 😃

I can absolutely do a jealous Michael fic! I love jealous Michael fics! xx

Warnings: Violence, Alcohol

Word Count: 1082 (Whoops! Did I mention that I love Michael jealousy fics?)

You enter the bar and look around, scanning the room for your friends. You see them in the back, in a corner booth. As you get closer to the table, you realize that Michael is among them. Sighing, you continue walking towards them. You get to the table and everyone greets you, excitedly. Well, almost everyone. Michael glances at you, gives you a slight nod, and then looks into his pint glass. You expected less from him, if you were being totally honest. Meg scoots over to let you slide into the booth. You’re now sat across from Michael, who is still staring into his beer.

You’re not sure when it started, but you and Michael just don’t get along. When the two of you happen to be in the same room, you either end up in a huge argument or you ignore each other completely. For the sake of the other people that are there, you decide that you’ll try to do the latter. The six of you (Meg, Gavin, Mica, Jeremy, Michael, and yourself) talk about random things. You talk about the videos that have been filmed this week, you talk about Meg and Gavin’s new kitten, and a few other things. Michael even joined in on the conversations without an argument starting.

“(y/n), I’ve been waiting until I was sure, but Mr. Tall, dark, and handsome over there has been checking you out for a while now.” Meg nudges you with her elbow and then nods her head in the direction of the guy. Your eyes follow her gaze to the bar, where a guy is stood. He’s not looking directly towards you, but he glances over every few seconds. When he catches your eye he grins and motions for you to come over. You turn to Meg quickly, a nervous look in your eye. “Go!” She tries to shove you out of the booth.

“He’s cute!” Mica adds.

“That guy?” Michael asks, pointing to the man. “He looks like a prick!” You sigh and open your mouth to speak, but before you’re able to get any words out Meg shoves you again.

“Get your beautiful ass over there and get yourself a free drink!” Mica encourages you. Your eyes flash to Michael, he’s glaring at the guy. He takes a swig of his drink and then slams it on the table.

“Gotta take a piss,” he grumbles, standing up and walking towards the restrooms. You look back at the guy at the bar and, with a deep breath, stand up. Walking towards the man, you try to ignore the hoots and hollers of your friends. As you near the guy, he grins again.

“Hello, beautiful.” He’s cuter up close, but there’s something about him that feels off. Maybe you’re just nervous.

“Hi,” you respond, awkwardly pulling your dress down a little.

“Don’t do that.” He lightly pushes your hands away. “You look great!” He points to a bar stool and then sits on the one next to it. You sit down and sneak a peak over at your friends. They’re no longer paying attention, laughing at some story that Gavin seems to be telling. “So that grumpy guy,” he starts. “Is that your boyfriend or something?”

“Who? Michael?” You laugh. “No. We’re hardly acquaintances.” As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret it.

“That’s good to know.” The man puts his hand on your leg and you immediately push it off.

“I’m not comfortable with that right now. I’m sorry.” You try to sound as polite as you can, but he seems to be offended.

“Are you going to be a prude the whole time?” He raises his voice and you flinch a little, feeling a little uncomfortable. “Fuck it.” He stands up to walk away.

“Hey, asshole!” Michael taps on the man’s shoulder. As soon as the man turns around to face Michael, you hear a crack and the man falls to the ground, holding his nose. You cover your mouth in shock and look from the man to Michael. A security guard starts walking towards Michael. “I’m going, I’m going!” He turns around and quickly walks out the door. Your head turns to the table and your friends are staring. You shrug and get up to follow Michael out, stepping over the man on the floor.

“Dick!” You shout to him, as you exit the bar. Walking around to the side of the building you find Michael. He’s pacing and when he sees you, he starts to walk away. “Michael, what the fuck was that?” You rush over and grab his arm, stopping him. “The guy was an ass, but you didn’t have to hit him.” He yanks his arm away from you.

“Fuck!” He yells, covering his face with his hands. “I just… I saw him touch you and I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Wait! Are you jealous?” You question, your heart picking up in speed.

“Fuck off,” he scoffs, dropping his hands from his face. “I’m not fucking jealous.”

“Admit it.” You take a step forward jabbing a finger at his chest. “You were jealous.”

“What do you want me to say, (y/n)?” He shoves your hand away. “I don’t have anything to say.” His voice quiets down.

“Well if you won’t admit it, then I’m leaving.” You start to turn around, but he grabs your arm and pulls you into a rough kiss. You find yourself kissing him back, before the shock has even hit you. He walks you backwards until your back is against the wall of the building. Your hands are holding his hips against yours while his hands are holding your face. He pulls away, nose still touching yours and you both gasp for breath. You open your eyes to see him already looking at you. You stand like that for a moment and then a grin stretches across his face.

“I definitely wasn’t jealous.” You both laugh, but you don’t change how you’re standing.

“Fuck off,” you laugh again and your lips meet for a second time, both of you smiling against each other.

[takeyourfic]

Any FAHC!Michael x reader anything is awesome :) if you wanna.

Ah! OMG! There’s never a time that I don’t want to write FAHC!Michael!!! xx

Word Count: 535

The bell above the shop door rings, signaling that there are customers. Looking up from polishing the new stock of brass knuckles, you see two men enter the store. One has dirty blond hair and is sporting a pair of sunglasses while the other has curly hair and is wearing a brown leather jacket. They immediately walk over to the explosives section. One of them mumbles something about a heist as the walk.

Your interest now peeked, you act as if you’re a browsing customer. You slowly inch your way closer to them to hear more of what they’re saying. It isn’t hard, because the curly haired man catches a glimpse of you. He nudges his friend and looks back at you, thinking that the nudge wasn’t noticeable.

“You know,” he starts, speaking considerably louder than a moment ago and picking up a sticky bomb, “A lot of people think that sticky bombs are the best when it comes to explosives.” He sets it back down carefully and grabs a few grenades, handing them to his buddy. “I say that if your aim isn’t good enough for you to use regular grenades, you should keep your inexperienced, dumb ass home.” He’s standing near you now. “I can help you find whatever you’re looking, miss.” He turns his full attention to you. “I’m Michael, by the way, and this is Gavin.” He jabs his thumb towards the second man.

“Oh yeah? Well I’m (y/n), and I’m looking for a weapon that would fit me.” You look up at the wall of guns. “I just want to feel safe in this scary town, you know?” Bringing your finger to tap on your chin, you turn towards Michael. “Any suggestions?”

“A woman in this town should definitely be safe.” He puts a hand on your elbow and gently leads you to some glass cases near the back of the store. “You look like a good handgun will do the trick. What do you think, Gav?”

“I dunno.” He shrugs in response to Michael’s question. “A pistol?” His British accent very prevalent.

“What about a shotgun?” You ask. As he stops at the glass case, you continue walking, going behind the counter.

“I think a shotgun would be much too powerful for you.” He puts his hands on the glass top and leans in a bit. “Too much kick to it.” You smirk at him and then glance towards Gavin, punching in a few buttons on the cash register.

“Is that all for you?” You gesture towards the explosives and Michael’s eyebrows come together in confusion. Gavin nods. “As it turns out, I’m the owner of this place and this…” You reach behind the counter and pull out a shotgun, setting it down in front of you. “This is my baby.” You grin at his reaction.

“No shit?!” He smiles. “Well now I feel like an asshole.”

“You kind of are.” You laugh, grabbing his receipt and writing your number on it. “But you can make it up to me at dinner sometime.”

[takeyourfic]

Rip Me

To the anon that sent me the FAHC!Michael request… I answered with a long response on mobile and it didn’t post or save or anything and just… I’m sorry, but I’ll have to try again later when I can get on my laptop. I’m so sorry!

[woah-rt-xreader-blog]

((I accidentally deleted the ask where someone requested a FAHC!MichaelxReader where the reader is really sweet and domestic. But here it is! Food, alcohol and cuss words ahead.))

The smell of sugar and blueberries wafted up to your nose as you popped open the oven. Your phone was pressed between your ear and your shoulder as you slipped on an oven mitt, talking to the worried woman on the other end of the line.

“Don’t worry Mrs. Anderson, Max is doing just fine. It’s perfectly normal for a five year old to be a little rowdy once in awhile,” you listened to her chatter as you pulled the the muffin tin out and placed it on the counter “I understand. It’s not a problem. Have a wonderful day.”

Michael came up behind you as you put your phone down and unknotted the ties on your apron. He kissed and nipped on the side of your neck and you let your apron fall the floor. You tilted your head to the side to give him more access to your soft skin as you giggled:

“You know, my apron doesn’t say ‘kiss the cook’.” He pressed his nose to the back of your head, buried his face in your hair, and chuckled. Michael turned the knob on the oven, shutting it off, then turning you around.

“I didn’t know I needed an apron to give me permission to kiss my fiancé,” he teased, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close “who was on the phone?”

“Oh, just another worried mother.” Michael tilted your chin so you were looking at him and slowly ran his fingers through your hair.

“I don’t know how you put up with all those damn phone calls.” He pulled away from you as he eyed the muffin tin. He dug his fingers into the top of one, breaking off a piece of the pastry. 

“Michael.” You whined, tugging on his sleeve.

“What?” He spoke with a mouthful of blueberry goodness.

“You can’t eat them! They’re for the crew. It’s the first time I get to meet them and I want to make a good impression.”

“I’m part of the crew.” He shot you a slanted smile with his chipmunk cheek full of muffin.

“You don’t count.” You pouted. The doorbell rang and you ran towards the door, calling back at Michael to pick up the apron and kindly fold it. When you opened the door you certainly didn’t expected them all to be so intimidating. It’s not like they were all gigantic but somehow you felt as though they were towering over you. They were clad in black clothes, pads, and bullet proof vests. It didn’t help that one of them was wearing a creepy black skull mask. Michael yelled:

“Did you guys seriously just come back from a heist? I told you guys to be somewhat fucking presentable.”

“C’mon, Mikey,” the one with tattoos on his fingers taunted as he walked in “did you expect any less?”

Michael grumbled angrily, “Take the fucking mask off, Ryan!” You heard a low chuckle come from the mask as he pulled it off, messing his hair up.

“Ooh, wot smells good?” You heard a British accent chime in. Once everyone was inside you closed the door.

“Um, well I made muffins. Michael already dug into one but would any of you like one?” Tattoo fingers waved a hand.

“Nah, it’s fine. You have any beers, sweet thing?”

“Geoff.” Michael warned. You put a gentle hand on his shoulder in an attempt to relax him.

“I do have some beer actually. Michael, sweetie, would you mind getting some from the cooler on the pool deck?” He kissed you on the cheek and went to the back, still eyeing the crew, wary of leaving you alone with them. You noticed everyone had already splayed themselves on your couches and made themselves comfortable. Thankfully they all introduced themselves in a kind way but it didn’t make you any less intimidated.

“So,” Jack turned to you “what do you do? Drug dealer? You don’t look like too hard.” You stiffened your back in surprise.

“N-no, I’m a kindergarten teacher.” Everyone belted out laughs in unison.

“Shut the fuck up,” Geoff said in disbelief “why would someone as sugary as you be with short fuse, Jones?” Little did you know, Michael had come back inside and was secretly standing behind you, curious of your answer.

“Well, I love him,” you looked at the ground in embarrassment and twiddled your thumbs “he’s funny, charming, and smart. Sure he can be a little loud sometimes but I deal with little kids for a living. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” You giggled at your own joke. Michael put the bottles on the counter and when you heard the clang you jolted and looked behind you. Your face turned beet red when you realized he was there.

“I love you too.” Michael cupped your cheeks and kissed you softly. You face turned more flush as you heard the room fill a chorus with awws.

[woah-rt-xreader-blog]

Hey! Could i get a hardcore Michael Jones fluff where he's just giving you loads of attention. Things like kisses on the neck and face and cuddles and things, but no smut pls. I love your writing! You're amazing!! 💙

((Aw! Thank you!

As the sun peaked over the horizon, your bedroom was slowly bathed in a gentle orange glow. You were already looking at Michael’s face in wonder, but wonder turned to amazement as the light that shone through the window highlighted his face. He stirred as the bright light began to wake him up. You laid on your side and cuddled closer, pressing your forehead against his. He grumbled and let out a long slow breath through his nose as you made small gentle circles with your fingers on the side of his face.

“Baby?” You whispered, leaning in closer, gently pecking his lips.

“Hmm?” His voice was laced with sleep and you could tell he wasn’t totally awake yet.

“I love you.” Michael’s eyes fluttered open and his gaze roamed your facial features as he wondered where the sudden burst of affection came from. He reached out for you and brought you closer, tucking your head under his chin. Your nose touched the soft fabric of his shirt and you took comfort in the smell of clean laundry and left over cologne. 

“I love you too,” He rubbed the nape of your neck with the tips of his fingers making you shiver. “I love you too, (Y/N).” You took your head out from under his chin to look up at him.

“Why’d you say it twice?” He shrugged, looking around for an answer.

“I don’t know. I guess I just love you more.” He gave you a lopsided smile and cupped your cheeks with both of his hands and started tickle your face all over with kisses. As he was squishing your face you managed to speak through unintentionally puckered lips.

“No, I love you more.” He let go of your face and his lopsided smile turned into one of devilish intentions.

“Oh, so you want to make this a competition?” Your eyes widened knowing what that face meant. 

“No, Michael, don’t you dare-” You tried to jump off the bed but it was too late. He already had you in his grasp. Suddenly you were on your back and he was tickling you mercilessly. You couldn’t contain your laughter and tears were starting to form.

“Say it!” Michael continued his attack, determined to get his way.

“Never!” You gasped, giggled, and squirmed. You tried to stop him but it was to no avail.

“You’re only making it worse for yourself!” He was also not able to hold in his laughter as he watched you adorably wiggle.

“Fine! You love me more!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” With that, he stopped his tickling. You were still laughing as you were drawing in breath. You took a pillow and threw it at his face.

“You could’ve killed me, Michael!” Pushing him back down you crawled on top of him and laid on his chest. He ran his fingers through your hair with one hand and rubbed your back with the other as a silent apology.

“It was a necessary risk,” he mumbled into your hair “you know me and my competitive streaks.” You huffed into his chest.

“Yes, unfortunately,” you traced your fingers up and down his bicep in thought “but I still like you.” Crawling up a little more you left wet kisses from his collar bone all the way up to behind his ear making him shiver. Michael shrugged again.

“Eh, you’re alright I guess.” Both of you laughed in unison and you flopped back on his chest, determined to get a few more hours of sleep. Michael pulled the covers over your head, blocking out the sun so you could sleep. He decided he was going to hold you for as long as he could.

[woah-rt-xreader-blog]

Ah, your stories are rly great!! Can I request a fahc-immortal au michael/reader? Michael dies and the reader is anxiously awaiting for him to revive, they almost start crying when he does. Thanks! And take your time!

((Thank you! Just a warning, there’s mentions of anxiety, blood, graphic injury, and cuss words in this one! I also…may have gotten carried away again.))

The sun is going down. Why isn’t he home yet? You looked out the sliding glass door to watch the sunset. The more the sun went down the higher your anxiety levels went. That sun was going down fast, and your blood pressure was skyrocketing. Suddenly the room was no longer bathed in orange light. Blues and grays plastered the walls as the moon rose. You stared at its fullness, and you felt as though the celestial body was staring back, making you feel hollow. Michael was the only person that kept you from feeling as lonely as the moon. When everyone else’s eyes were shut and asleep, he was there, wide eyed and filled with passion solely for you.

You pressed your hand against the cold glass in an attempt to feel something besides pure, concentrated fear. Something went wrong with the heist. You were sure of it. Your instincts never lead you astray. Just when you thought you’d attempt sleep, there was a loud bang at the door. You rushed over to it, looking through the peep hole. It was Geoff. His face was covered in ash and blood. You quickly unlocked and open the door with fumbling fingers. Opening the door was like unveiling a nightmare.

Geoff held Michael in his arms and took him into your house, laying him on the floor.

“Geoff, what the fuck is going on?!”

“Be a dear and close the damn door will you?” His calm tone fueled your rage. You slammed the door shut and locked it. Then, as you dragged your eyes over to Michael who was splayed out on the ground, you took in the severity of the situation. He was so soaked in his own blood his hair was matted. The gash on his head made his skull visible, and his limbs were twisted and broken. You slowly walked towards him and when you felt yourself step in a pool of his sticky blood your knees gave way and you fell to the floor. As your hands trembled in front of you, afraid to touch him, you asked,

“Geoff,” you didn’t move your head but you looked at him through your peripheral vision “what happened?” You had to force the words past your teeth since you were in between screaming at Geoff and sobbing at the sight of Michael. Geoff lit a cigarette.

“Welp,” he put it between his cracked lips and took a puff “he was in the blast radius of a bomb. Figured I’d deliver him to ya before I took off.” You smacked Geoff across the face for being so nonchalant. He didn’t react. He knew he deserved it. Geoff shook it off.

“What? It’s not like he’s dead for good. He’ll come back, (Y/N)”

“THAT’S NOT. THE POINT.” Screaming, you felt your words scrape the inside of your throat. You looked at Michael. His eyes were blown wide open but lifeless. What frightened you the most was that his skin was purple and waxy. Meaning he had been dead for awhile, and you weren’t sure why he wasn’t back yet. You put a trembling hand on the side of his cheek.

“Michael…baby?” You looked across his face for signs of life. You had seen him dead before but never like this. All the other times it just looked like he was sleeping peacefully. But this. This was horrific. 

“C’mon babe, wake up.” You shook his shoulder.  Silence flooded the room and it felt like you were the only one who was suffocating. You shook him harder this time.

“Michael Vincent Jones, I’m begging you! Please wake up!” Geoff put a hand on your shoulder to try and calm you but you violently pushed it away. You put both hands on his face as you sobbed. Your tears turned muddy brown as they fell and mixed with his dried blood. Geoff walked away into your kitchen, unable to deal with the sad sight. You screamed Michael’s name one last time before your body gave way and you fell onto his chest. The harsh metallic smell of blood filled your nose. You closed your eyes, wishing you were anywhere but here.

Then, suddenly, a deep and violent gasp was pulled out of Michael. Like a fish begging to be thrown back into the water. He shot up, pushing you back a little. The color was back in his skin, his wounds were healed. All that was left of the scene was dirt and blood. You stared at him, unable to move as you watched him cough, as he was dragging in air to breath. Once Michael was fully aware he actually started to laugh.

“Whew, that was a fucking doozy, wasn’t it?” Geoff came out of the kitchen, putting out his cigarette on your counter, and laughing as well.

“Yeah, next time pay attention to your fucking walkie talkie, Jones.” You looked between the both of them, shocked.

“How am I the only one that’s not okay??” Once Michael glanced at the pool of blood he was sitting in, and took in your exhausted fragile silhouette, he understood. He ran his fingers through your hair. You didn’t care that his hands were caked in dirt and gunpowder. You were jut glad to feel the warmth back in his body.

“Babe,” he gently dragged you closer and held you against his chest “you’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I didn’t think you’d come back.” You’re voice started to drown in your fresh tears. He kissed you softly. It tasted look soot and copper, but it was Michael, and that’s all that mattered to you.

“I always come back,” he pressed his lips against your cheek “I’ll always come back to you.”