#oh man michael is down bad
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send [grind] : sender’s muse grinds on receiver’s thigh
there is no label for what gareth and michael have. they’re friends who started off as sort of enemies who have ended up being more than friends but not giving any label to what they are. michael knows gareth’s hellfire friends have begun questioning him a lot and teasing him and he thinks if he had any friends they’d bother him about it too. right now, they sit in gareth’s basement on his couch, some old horror movie playing in the background. michael loves horror movies but he wasn’t paying attention to it since the beginning— far too focused on gareth instead. seems the other boy had the same idea because movie night turned into gareth stroking michael through his pants turned into gareth on his lap, fingers in michael’s curls. he groans against the other’s lips and grabs his ass firmly, sighing shakily when he feels gareth begin to steadily grind against his thigh. “can i fuck you? please—“
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Brannigan (1975)
"Well, if it was up to me, I'd get some men out thumping on the streets, passing out some 'e pluribus unum'. That's what ninety percent of police work is today."
"The murder rate in your country, I'm sure, gives ample testimony to your superior police methods."
#brannigan#1975#british cinema#crime film#douglas hickox#christopher trumbo#michael butler#william p. mcgivern#john wayne#richard attenborough#judy geeson#john vernon#mel ferrer#daniel pilon#john stride#james booth#ralph meeker#barry dennen#del henney#lesley anne down#arthur batanides#ok so for the record i despise John Wayne the person; i also don't particularly rate JW the film star‚ excepting for a very few#special films (The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance probably topping that list). normally i wouldn't make a special effort to see any of his#films but this has been on my radar for some time: i mean it's Wayne in 70s London‚ fighting crime that's represented by classic tv#character actors like Don Henderson‚ James Booth and Brian Glover. heaven! or it would be‚ but this is a flabby‚ kind of dumb mess#partly that's on director Hickox (hard to believe he made the sublime Theatre of Blood a couple years earlier) and partly that's a bad#script which repeatedly hammers on about the cultural differences between usa and uk in an endless attempt to be funny#but the main issue is Wayne‚ too old and sickly to even begin to convince as a tough cop who can win the eye of beautiful Judy Geeson#please. gross. intriguing for sights of 70s London and that wonderful supporting cast but otherwise completely disposable#oh and some fun americans to spot too! Barry Dennen! that at least was a delightful surprise. but yeah not much to recommend this really
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mtn dew red kinda night.
#braindumping in the tags of this one#man.#my soda is so expired hope i dont idk shit the bed.#its fine though only been expired for 4 months#cdc says its ok for another 5#mtn dew red in the fridge 😎 gonna drink more tomorrow#i think tonight. i will fall asleep in michaels room SHIT ITS A MESS IN HERE#sorry to out you buddy#ah. so were doing bad huh.#caretakers rooms being messy always equals we are doing bad -_-#AUGH whatever i will put his clothes in the hamper. least i can do.#okay. good night hopefully.#OH writing down so i dont forget. me and michael are kind of like lupin and zenigata. same dynamic#RS.txt#(🎮)
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I love it when my husband has a bad day.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like I want to see him sad because things didn't go as planned during practice or that teammate of his was more annoying then usual. I just like the way he acts when he comes home to me after a bad day.
Some people shout and get angry. Other people isolate themselves to calm down after those (unavoidable) bad days. But not the man I promissed to love in sickness and health.
When he comes home, he doesn't say anything. He takes off his jacket and shoes as quick as possible and just throws himself at me. He then proceeds to nuzzle his head in my neck, still not saying a word, and, after he found the "perfect" position (which I know he did, cause he sighs and smiles when he does find it), he grabs my hand and puts it in hair, as if it's a silent plea for me to tangle my fingers through his locks and massage his scalp.
We spend hours like this. Just me and him bathing in each other's presence, without anything or anyone else to intervee. Sometimes, he even falls asleep, and I want to gush about how comfortable he is around me and yap about how cute he is while sleeping (even if he drools all over the bed most of the times). And then I concentrate on him and him only: his softened breath, his heart pace starting to slow down and those inconscious sounds he lets out when I caress the right spot.
I love to whisper to him about my day while passing my hand underneath his shirt, noticing the tension leaving his body and feeling each muscle he worked oh so hard to build. One time, I even joked about giving him a massage. He didn't deny it, so I think he wants one. He just doesn't know how to ask (we really need to work on this kind of communication).
I love my husband. And I love the domesticity and good moments his bad days provide: just me and him, showing our love for each other without needing to say anything.
ITOSHI RIN, ITOSHI SAE, Barou Shoei, Shidou Ryusei (hear me out on this one), Oliver Aiku, Michael Kaiser, Nagi Seishiro, Kunigami Rensuke, Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shoto, Ushijima Wakatoshi, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, KOZUME KENMA, Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji
~ A/N: This is heavly inspired by a reddit post I saw!! Apparently, the og post user is @ThrowawayEngland2022 on reddit. Make sure to follow them!!
Masterlist
#blue lock#bllk#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#blue lock kaiser#kaiser x reader#bllk rin#rin x reader#nagi x reader#sae x reader#barou x reader#bllk barou#barou shoei x reader#shidou x reader#bllk shidou#aiku x reader#itoshi rin x reader#sae x you#bakugou x reader#todoroki x reader#tsukishima kei#tsukishima x reader#kenma x reader#kageyama x reader#ushijima x reader#haikyuu#my hero academia#akaashi x reader#kunigami x reader
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1 | ANYONE BUT YOU .ೃ
summary. as lines get blurred, hearts get flustered, and a scheme ensues, your brother's best friend suddenly seems way more interesting than he used to be.
content/warnings. 5k+ wc (part 1/3) reader has little to no college friends | reader hates kaiser's guts | PROTECTIVE kaiser lol | | pet names (dollface) & a lot of profanity (it's kaiser) | minimal proofread
💭 masterlist | next part
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go with you anymore.”
Your ears were ringing.
After the words hung over the line, a heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the dull thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The phone line seemed to distort, and the world beyond reduced to a distant murmur as a disorienting ringing filled your ears. Yet, despite the shock rippling through, you managed to maintain a facade.
“Ah, I see. It’s no problem. See you around!” Your chirped voice made you cringe internally, but it was a better front than sounding like a defeated kid whose mom said no over a piece of candy at a grocery store.
Before he could say anything else, you clicked the end button faster than he could spew some tacky excuse. Throwing your phone to the side, you settled onto your bed, lying on your back, staring at the uninteresting ceiling of your room.
Sure, it was no problem at all— the music festival was just six hours away, and your date had just canceled on you over the phone. It’s no big deal facing your college blockmates without a companion as initially planned, and it’s totally not a problem that you will most likely be a third– hell, a seventh wheel, actually, and have them talk behind your back – speculating about why you're going alone or if you were just making it up that you had someone to bring.
Yes, it’s not a fucking problem at all.
You don’t even like the artist lineup, anyway (maybe you’re mildly interested with one band that’s attending). You wouldn’t bother if you weren’t just a sophomore still trying to find a group of friends you can call your own. It's embarrassing enough that freshmen even had it better than you. It’s not a race, for sure, but in college– the truth lies blatant that support systems help. A lesson you learned the hardest way.
“Y/N? Are you in there?” Three soft knocks on your door and a muffled voice, surely coming from your older brother, interrupted your pity party.
“Yes. Come in,” you confirmed. The door creaked open, revealing a mop of magenta hair leaning over your door frame.
“There’s food downstairs. We ordered your favorite.”
“We?”
“Kaiser is downstairs.”
Of course, he is.
Your brother’s best friend must have really taken it to heart when your mom told him he can treat your family as his own. Too deep into his heart, if you could comment. You see him around the house more than you see your parents, and if that wasn’t tiresome enough, he’s literally a damn superstar in your university. Every corner, every room, in halls and library, everyone can’t seem to be over his name like a broken record.
You wouldn’t be this annoyed, hostile even, if said man was just as nice as your brother. But instead, he was far by the most obnoxious, foul-mouthed, arrogant prick you’ve ever known. Alexis should have never kicked some ball with that conceited oaf a decade ago. Life would have been so much better. But no— reality is, the bane of your existence in the form of blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, is in your house’s kitchen, probably gulping down your favorite drinks in the fridge.
If you can’t seem to have friends, your older brother seems to be goddamn bad at picking his.
“Hey, dollface. Missed me?” Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.
The first thing you’re met with after coming down is a sight of Michael Kaiser, sitting high and comfortably on one of the counter’s bar stools. Your gaze trails down to his hand where you see a peek of his crown tattoo— and would you look at that? He’s holding a can of your Coke Zero.
“Oh, so that’s why my life was going sideways again,” you feigned a sigh in disappointment, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear, “because you’re back.”
In your unwanted years of knowing this guy, you’ve soon realized that none of your words, no matter how sharp or snarky they get, would ever faze him. Evidence would be how he just openly chuckled at your remark. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I missed you and your smart mouth, too. Don’t worry.”
“Trust me, worry is not in the list of emotions I would ever feel for you.”
“Well, does attraction make it to the list?”
Years ago, perhaps it would have. Not that he needs to know—no chance. Your silly childhood crush on him was your deepest, darkest mistake. You might be overdramatic, but this was Michael Kaiser, and god, you would rather get caught having feelings for anyone but him.
Rolling your eyes at him, you sneer, “You wish.”
“Oh, trust me, I do wish,” he mocks your tone.
“Fuck off.”
“That won’t get rid of me, I’m afraid,” he shrugs before winking at you. You shook your head in annoyance.
You took the seat across from him and settled. You were about to lean to reach the box of pizza at the other end of the countertop, when Kaiser reached for it first and placed it in front of you.
You turned to look at him, half expecting a smirk or yet another wink from the blonde, but instead, he was preoccupied browsing on his phone as if his body moved on its own to attend to you.
You shrugged off the weird occurrence and turned all attention to the pizza and its heavenly scent sipping through the gaps of its box, just in time for Alexis to take the seat next to his best friend. You drowned the noise of their conversation as they started talking about last away games.
Your brother and Kaiser had been the most valuable players of your university’s soccer team for as long as you’ve remembered. They were two years older, so by the time you entered university, they were already making big names in the field. Rumors had it that there were already offers lining up at their feet.
If you come to think of it, it wouldn’t be this hard making friends if you would just be vocal about being Alexis Ness’ younger sibling, but the limelight and pretentious popularity it came with was something you wouldn’t wish upon yourself. You wanted real and genuine friends, not people who wanted to be around you because it was a step closer to your brother and his best friend.
Like earlier, Alexis’ voice came reaching your eardrums, snapping you out of your thoughts. After hearing what he had to ask, though, you wished you had a way to physically block out his words.
“Are you not going to get ready for the festival?” your brother asked, meanwhile, his dear friend seemed to take great interest in what you’re about to say as both of them peered over you.
“Not going anymore,” you said, as nonchalant as you could to play pretend.
“Why? You’ve been looking forward to it the whole week.”
Heat crept into your ears and cheeks as embarrassment filled you. Sure, you might not be prancing around being all excited about it, but if your brother was able to notice it, your enthusiasm must have been evident then. God, you felt like an utter fool now.
“It got canceled,” you looked away from them.
Alexis looked at you with furrowed brows, “What do you mean? It’s not–”
“My date canceled on me. I’m not going anymore to save face and not make a fool out of myself. There, happy?” you snapped.
Before you could even feel the guilt from bursting out unprovoked to your brother, you swiftly got up from the stool heading back to your room, leaving the two of them in the kitchen looking concerned contrarily. One with worried eyes glancing at your room hesitantly, and the other one with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.
It seemed everyone was testing your patience today, as for the second time, your ears rang—not from a last-minute cancellation this time, but from the persistent sound of your ringing phone.
Your heavy eyes fluttered open, weighed down by the sleep from your ignoring-the-world nap after the exchange with your supposed date and your brother. Disoriented and groggy, you reached out, fingers fumbling to check the caller deserving of your unrelenting fury.
Kaiser, the screen read, and suddenly, the urge to throw your phone at the nearest wall almost overwhelmed your senses.
But you answered the call anyway, because logic says that he was still your brother’s closest, and sometimes, that warranted a call that might be about him.
“I swear to god this better be important–”
“Get ready,” he interrupted.
“What?”
“Look out your window.”
Groaning, you rose to your feet, moving your drapes aside to see what awaited outside.
Outside your house’s gates, a midnight blue sports car, all too familiar, was parked across the driveway. Its owner leaned lazily over its door, one hand in his pocket while the other held his phone pressed to his ear, looking right back at you with that shit-eating grin.
“What the hell are you on?” you muttered into the phone.
You instantly closed the drapes after meeting eyes with him.
It’s infuriating—He’s infuriating. But damn, does he look good when he smiles like that. And it’s not helping your case that he was clad in loose-fitting denim pants and a black shirt, sufficiently showcasing both his tattoo and his lean yet toned build.
It’s sorcery how he makes simple and ordinary clothing look like it was screaming high-end and luxury. Only he can do that, you admit.
“As I said, get ready,” he repeated over the phone, “We only have less than two hours before your music festival or something starts.”
He’s taking me to it? “Why?”
Only one word in response, yet the two of you understood what you’re pertaining to. Silence filled the line for a moment before you heard a subtle click of his tongue.
“Because you look ugly when you sulk,” and he hung up.
You should be irritated at him hanging up abruptly and calling you ugly, but for some reason you don’t know, it puts a smile on your face.
The first one today.
Kaiser wishes he had a bigger car— which one would deem ridiculous, given that his car could easily match the price of two or even three minivans.
But if it meant having you sit not so close that your scent infiltrates his senses beyond his sound judgment, he’d gladly trade his lambo for a minivan any day.
You were intoxicating— not akin to the grip of liquor, because it would be inadequate in comparison. But rather intoxicating in the same way as the irresistible magnetism that beckons a madman to its vices.
And he must be really mad because you weren’t even sitting shoulder-to-shoulder close to him. You’re sitting comfortably at the passenger seat, a good distance in between, and yet he acts like a raging teenager who got locked up with his crush in the utility room. It is absolutely embarrassing, even for someone like him.
“Did Alexis ask you to do this?” you suddenly inquired, your gaze fixed on your side of the car.
Thank heavens you broke the silence first, because who knows what ungodly phrases he would come up with in an attempt of small talk with you?
“No. Though I bet he would have taken you himself,” he snorted, of course your brother would, “If our coach weren’t so pissed at him these days.”
Ah, so that explained why you hadn't seen Alexis around the house before hopping into Kaiser's car.
Momentarily, you turned to him. It was so swift that he might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of your every move in this damn confined space. “Is he in trouble?” you inquired to the blonde, your voice concerned and hesitant.
“Nothing you have to worry about, doll.”
“Stop with the nicknames,” you hissed, attempting to intimidate.
Unfazed, he countered with a cheeky “Make me,” under his breath. His smirk practically audible, even without you glancing his way.
Silence overtook between the two of you once more. You fixated on the road ahead, noting the nearing destination as the glow of the festival stage lights peeked into view.
It’s your chance— your chance to release the words that have lingered at the edge of your tongue since he urged you to get ready almost an hour ago. You stole a glance at the man driving beside you. His eyes focused on the road, his left hand steady on the steering wheel while his timepiece-adorned hand rested comfortably on the gearshift. In another frame of mind, you might have found yourself lost in the rhythm of his long, slender fingers tapping against it. You snapped out of it before he could point it out.
You stole one last glance before turning away to whisper, “Thank you… Kaiser.”
Instead of saying welcome like a polite person would, your companion would of course, choose to say something as, “You owe me something now.”
Of course, you thought. Mentally rolling your eyes, you ask, resigning to his antics, “What do you want?”
“Call me by my name.”
“Did you not hear? I said, thank you Kai–”
“The one you used to call me.”
Mikka.
It was a silly nickname you gave him– back when Alexis first brought him home for snacks nearly ten years ago. He and Alexis were eleven, and you were barely nine.
You remembered the blonde kid, all sweaty in his mud-stained clothes, clutching a worn-out ball by his hip, his gaze fixed on you with curiosity. “This is Kaiser,” your brother introduced, but the blonde stranger approached you, extending his hand.
“I’m Michael.”
“That’s… long.”
“What?”
“Your name– it’s long,” you echoed, looking up at him, “can I call you ‘Mikka’?”
“What?” Kaiser’s deep voice sliced through your reminiscence. “You had no problem calling me that before,” he pointed out.
“That’s before you beat up the boy you knew I like,” you scoffed at him, a familiar pettiness clouding your mind.
He chuckled at your retort, seemingly lost in his own memories. “Beat him up on the soccer field, you mean,” he corrected, though he wouldn’t particularly mind if it were an actual fight.
“Same thing.”
“Oh, come on! It was highschool!”
“Your point?” you countered.
“He was a snotface, anyway.” he rationalized.
“He was nice to me!”
“I suggest you rather get a dog instead— if nice is all you need. I heard dogs are fun to be around,” he sneered, “What do you think of pomeranians?”
You brushed off his question, preferring the depths of silence over the hypothetical responsibility of tending to a pup that bore more than a passing resemblance to him, both in appearance and, perhaps, in demeanor.
“I knew agreeing to come here with you was a mistake,” you sighed, exasperation lacing your words.
Surprisingly, Kaiser offered no retort. Taking his silence as a cue for your own, you settled into quietness, hoping for a peaceful remainder of the drive. Minutes drifted by until Kaiser broke the stillness with a whisper loud enough for you to catch.
“He was a slimy jerk,” he began, pausing as if hinting his careful choice of words, “and he was nice to you because he was trying to get into your pants.”
“How did you know?” you asked, meek and shy, fumbling with your fingers in your lap. Seeking love advice and opinions from none other than the mighty Kaiser seemed absurd, but maybe, wisdom might sometimes fare well with age.
“Trust me when I say I know how boys can be,” he scoffed, a displeased furrow settling in his brows. “He wasn't the gentleman you thought he was.”
“And you? Are you a gentleman?”
Before you could stop your thoughts from escaping your rebellious mouth, the words spilled out like water through a breached dam. The lack of response from him compelled you to chew on your lip and fix your gaze on the road, refusing to spare even a glance his way, despite feeling his stare burning into the side of your face.
Meanwhile, Kaiser was aware he might be staring too long at your side for someone controlling a vehicle, but he couldn't help it. Not when you caught him off guard with a simple question, and especially not when you were trying so hard to avoid looking at him, your discomfort palpable in the air. You looked so cute—it made his mouth twitch.
Staring ahead at the road, he contemplated your question, needing no more than a minute to reach his conclusion.
When a man looks at his best friend's younger sibling in a way he shouldn’t, he’s not deserving of the title “gentleman.”
He was far from it, he concluded. With one last glance thrown your way before bringing the car to a full stop, he muttered in an uncharacteristically soft tone.
“Especially not one, doll.”
“Y/N! Over here!” a familiar voice cut through the cacophony, prompting you to scan the crowd until you finally spotted them.
Relief flooded over you at the sight of a familiar face amidst the crowd. Checking your phone had proven to be a wise decision; otherwise, you might have spent the night searching aimlessly through the vast expanse of the venue.
The venue stretched out before you was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that danced upon the senses. Laughter and chatter mingled with applause and the occasional roar of approval as performers graced the stage.
Everywhere you looked there was movement and so much life. Yet amidst the bustling crowd and pulsating music, one figure occupied your thoughts more than anything else.
Kaiser's towering 6-foot frame loomed behind you, his broad shoulders carving a path of confidence through the crowd. He stood behind you like an immovable rock amidst a rushing river. And if your senses weren't deceiving you, you swore you felt the occasional brush of his hand against the small of your back, gently guiding you forward.
He was so close behind you that his breath on your nape soaked into your skin like ointment— warm to the touch, yet icy on your spine.
“Where's your date?” one of your blockmates inquired after the initial pleasantries were exchanged.
The question lingered, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. Mentally counting heads, you realized you were really on track to be the seventh wheel if you attended without a companion. Speaking of companions— you turned behind you with the intention of introducing Kaiser (not that they didn’t know him already), but your intention faltered when you noticed the scowl on his face.
“I’m the date, if you couldn’t tell,” he interjected.
From his vantage point, he observed the widening of your eyes at his declaration. Yet, when he didn’t hear any immediate retaliation from you, he flashed you— and everyone else watching— a lopsided smirk. He sensed your blockmates’ curiosity lingering, some perhaps wondering if he was truly dating you. But none of them dared to probe further—maybe because he wasn't exactly the approachable type.
After a few murmurs of ‘oh’ and ‘really’ from your blockmates, they returned their attention to the stage, where the next performer was beginning their pre-performance monologue.
You, on the other hand, look like you were out for his blood from how you’re glaring at him. “Are you out of your mind?” you hissed under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.
Yes. Perhaps he was. Irrationality had seized him upon hearing the question. After all, he was there with you, visible for all to see. Did they not see him? Did he look like a fucking chair to those people? Common sense must be a luxury these days, given its absence in this situation.
Yet, a small voice of reason within him attempted to intervene, suggesting that the question might have stemmed from genuine curiosity.
As his best friend's younger sibling, seeing the two of you together wasn't an unusual occurrence for those who attend the same university. They likely concluded that your presence with him at the music festival was simply a matter of normal friendship (which it was, but they don’t have to know that, nor does he desire for these extras to reduce it to just that).
“I’m helping you save face like you said earlier,” he tells you, still wearing that annoying smirk.
“How does telling them you’re my date help me save face?” If anything, you'd be hiding on campus after his stunt. You could only hope words won’t travel fast.
“Would you rather I tell them I'm chaperoning you because some jerk canceled on you?”
Your words stalled at the base of your throat, unable to counter his remark. That shut you up, much to your chagrin. He was right.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he quipped, grinning at your silence. “Come closer, there’s a lot of people.”
You huffed in irritation and decided to ignore him behind you, determined to make the most of your experience here. You’d let this slide for now. After all, he was here because of you.
But it wasn’t too long before you realized that ignoring him would be as futile as trying to pluck roses without being pricked by the thorns. You knew very well that this man thrives in getting under people’s skin.
“You should be flattered.”
Genuinely appalled, you ask, “I’m sorry?”
“Accepted.”
If it wasn’t night time and the blaring lights were replaced by the sun, he could have seen the twitch that your eye did at his retort.
At this point, murder is a tempting option. Sure, he’s taller and much bigger in physique terms, but you have the rage for it. Just one more insufferable antic—one more word— from this man and the whole university will be mourning their star player’s demise first thing tomorrow morning.
You took a deep breath to calm your murderous nerves, “Is that so? What part of telling people— oh wait, our schoolmates who are probably whispering behind our backs— that you’re my date, is flattering to you?”
The asshole had the audacity to shrug, “Calling me yours was.”
“Well then, you should be flattered. Not me.”
“You don’t know how flattered I am to be yours,” he mused.
If you didn’t know any better, his attempt at flirting might have sent warmth to your cheeks. But this was Kaiser— no one can tell when he’s being serious or just being his usual menace self talking shit like he’s employed to do so. Good thing you had better plans than spend it on his guessing games.
Just when you’re about to berate him once more, words halted on your throat because of a sight you least expected to see.
Han— the guy you’ve been talking to for almost a month now. The same guy who was your supposed date, to be more specific.
“What? Cat got your tongue, doll?”
If cats come in the form of a familiar man who’s a few good meters away, clearly having the time of his life dancing with someone, and clearly showing no signs of unavailability to go to a music festival he asked you to, then yes, it got your tongue.
You stayed silent far too long for Kaiser’s patience. Your lack of snarky clapbacks were starting to unsettle him more than he would allow. Shifting closer to you, he followed your line of sight to see what got you stunned in silence.
Recognizing what, or rather who, got your attention, he turns to you, his voice coming out too indignant, “Do you know that guy?”
“Do you?” you counter, picking up on his tone being all too casual as if they’re acquainted.
“He’s last week’s opposing team’s goalkeeper,” or was it ‘striker’? He couldn’t recall, so he’s more or less incompetent to him. One thing he remembers, however, “and he hates me.”
You threw him a glance, “Not surprised.”
“And do I give a fuck,” he shook his head, “Why do you keep looking at him?” Don’t fucking tell me.
Your answer wasn’t any better to what he was starting to imagine, “He was… supposed to be my date to this music festival,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.
You didn’t want to see the look on Kaiser’s face, fearing you might see pity, and so you nailed your gaze to the ground. Totally oblivious of the man peering over you rather softly.
“Why can’t he then?” he asks, voice an octave lower.
“He said they had late notice training, so he can’t come.”
“Well, that better be his fucking ghost yapping with a brunette then,” he scoffs, looking straight to the lying man who canceled on you.
Sick of his face and sloppy dance moves, Kaiser turned his gaze back at you, only to be filled with rage because of it.
You look sad— and it made his blood boil. Not towards you, but for you.
“Y’know what? Let’s go there,” he urged, head pointing at where Han was.
Is he fucking crazy? You immediately shook your head at his scandalous suggestion. You might be feeling a little betrayed and angry, but rationality still had its hold on you— and it’s saying to not let Kaiser go with his idea.
Instead, you tug on his forearm, eyes still on the floor before looking up at him, “Can we leave, please?”
Kaiser was taken aback by your sudden meekness. He wasn’t used to this— to you, being all deflated and zoned out. He was used to your deadpan expressions and your eyes that seem to roll every time he utters a single word. He was used to you being, dare he say, feisty.
And he would rather have you stay like that all day long, even when he’s the receiving end of it.
But this? You, saying please to him, of all people? He doesn’t like it.
If this is how he gets to make you say please, then he doesn’t want it. Fuck that, and fuck that guy. How dare he.
Kaiser didn’t say anything back at your request, but you felt big calloused hands grasp on your hand still resting on his forearm. The next thing you knew, you were walking with him, shoulder-to-shoulder while his other hand was on yours guiding you to walk out of the scene.
“If I see one—just one drop of tear, I swear I am turning this damn car around.”
Your thoughts abruptly halted at the sound of Kaiser’s threat—his ultimatum, rather. It sounded more like a promise than a threat, and you knew this man well enough to understand that he never ate his words.
You shot him a glance and snickered. There was no way in high hell you’d ever cry in the same space where he was. It was the last thing you’d ever do, even if it meant convincing yourself that what you saw earlier was just a mere look-alike of Han.
“It's nothing. We aren’t even a thing,” you dismissed, your voice flat.
“But you thought you could be,” he countered, and damn if he wasn't right. “How do you even know him?”
“We're kind of talking, well, sort of—”
“Kind of? Sort of?” he scoffed.
“God—it's like a talking stage or something casual, Kaiser! There, got it?”
“That's not exclusive,” he remarked, adding insult to injury.
Irritation bubbled in your throat as his interrogation continued. But even before you could unleash your venom, you caught yourself. He was right. And while this man had never brought you good, it wasn't fair to make him the target of your bad.
“Yeah, it's not,” you admitted, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. You recalled the brunette he danced with earlier. “I wasn't exclusive material for his reputation, I guess.”
What reputation? “That’s bullshit.” He gritted his teeth, his hand itching towards the steering wheel, clearly tempted to turn back to the festival.
“You said it yourself, he’s an athlete,” you pointed out, “You people never like to go exclusive with someone.”
“You people? Oh, please. Do not insult me by comparing me to the likes of him.”
The sass in his voice drew a chuckle from you. It was amusing how he said it with genuine horror, as if the mere idea of being associated with Han was an insult. “Why? Are you telling me you can commit to someone exclusively?”
“Someone like who? You?” He met your gaze briefly, “Absolutely.”
What the hell. “Stop messing around,” you snorted, effectively ending the conversation.
He was playing a dangerous game, saying that to you. Did he even realize what it did? Did he hear your stupid heart hammering in your chest? It was too loud, too obvious, a frantic drum solo against your ribs.
And the realization settled— he made your heart flutter.
His words, so simple, so casually tossed out, had landed like a bomb, sending shrapnel through your carefully constructed walls.
Michael Kaiser, of all people, made your heart flutter.
Suddenly, the air felt thin, the car an echo chamber amplifying the frantic rhythm of your traitorous heart. You knew you should scoff, dismiss it as another one of his infuriating jabs, but the truth was like a hot coal lodged in your throat.
“I’m not though,” he countered, eyes steady on the familiar road ahead. He sounded serious– too serious.
As you were about to retort back, the car lurched to a stop, announcing your arrival. You glanced out the window, the familiar sight of your house doing little to ease the tension that had coiled tight in your stomach.
“We’re here,” Kaiser announced, his voice a low rumble.
Hurried and flustered by the unexpected shift in the conversation, your clammy hands fumbled with the buckle, the metal cold and unyielding against your sweaty palms. You tugged, then tugged again, frustration building with each failed attempt.
“Easy, doll.”
Before you could protest, a large hand swooped in, effortlessly unlatching the buckle with a practiced flick. The sudden proximity sent a jolt through you, making your breath hitch. You met his gaze, his eyes a blazing blue as he held your stare for a beat too long before turning away.
Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. You reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping out onto the familiar pavement. Before slamming the door shut, you paused, turning back to Kaiser with a newfound resolve.
Crouching down to meet his gaze, you surprised yourself with the words that tumbled out. “Be careful on your way home and,” you paused, “Thank you... Mikka.”
The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, leaving a blush blooming across your cheeks.
Before Kaiser could react, you slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet street.
Mikka. He repeats your words in his mind.
He watched you disappear into your house, a slow grin spreading across his face. Only when you were safely inside did he start the car, the image of your flustered face lingering in his mind.
Damn it, doll.
Meanwhile, you hurried to your room, clutching your chest where your heart still hammered a frantic rhythm.
Why did I call him that? you asked yourself.
The use of his nickname, a name you rarely uttered now, was a stark reminder that the two of you weren’t as close as you were younger.
It’s not a big deal, you tried to reason with yourself. He literally said you owed it to him, and calling it quits would be in the form of a stupid nickname. It doesn’t mean anything. Right— you were just returning a favor.
Your obvious self-deception was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of your phone, tossed carelessly on the bed. Picking up your phone, you opened one of the notifications, your breath catching in your throat.
It was a post on your university's gossip page, and there, plastered on the screen, was a picture of you and Kaiser.
The image froze a moment in time, capturing him standing protectively behind you, his arms caging you against a barricade. Panic clawed at your throat. This picture, out in the open, could be misconstrued in so many ways.
What were people going to think? Who took this photo, anyway?
Your eyes darted down the comment section, scrolling through a sea of unimaginable speculations, desperately searching for clues about the culprit.
Just then, a knock on the door startled you.
“Y/N? Can I talk to you?”
It was your brother— and his voice suggested he needed answers too.
Shit.
note. first mini series lmao xD will add cw as i go!
#☁️ my ode to you#michael kaiser x reader#blue lock x reader#kaiser x reader#blue lock imagines#michael kaiser imagines#kaiser imagines#michael kaiser x y/n#michael kaiser x you#bllk x y/n#bllk x you#bllk x reader#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x you#michael kaiser#blue lock fluff#first milestone event!#writing: 004
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Slashers seeing their future S/O for the first time
Part 1
Including: Billy Loomis, Bo Sinclair, Jason Voorhees, Lester Sinclair, Stu Macher & Vincent Sinclair.
Warnings: Mentions of death, slashers being slashers. This page is 18+ Minors do not interact.
A/N: Okay this is my first post on here so any and all feedback is welcome! Also, there will be a part two, I will be including all the slashers I write for I just got a bit carried away and I thought it was a bit long for one part lol. Second part will include Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Billy Lenz, Brahms Heelshire and Jesse Cromeans.
Billy Loomis:
· This was meant to be an easy kill for Billy. Some geek that showed up at a party he shouldn’t have been at, Billy had been watching him for most of the night when he saw his target getting ready to leave. He started heading to the closet he hid his Ghostface costume in when someone crashed into him spilling their drink all down the front of his shirt.
· Billy was in two minds about whether he should give them a piece of his mind or ignore their apologies and sneak away anyway. But as he looked up whatever reply he had planned got caught in his throat. When he looked into your pleading eyes he could immediately tell how bad you felt. He didn’t realise he was staring until he noticed you were waiting for a response.
· He regains his composure and brushed off your apologies, telling you not to worry about it. You seemed relieved and he couldn’t help but smirk at how you looked around the room frantically. “Lost something?” he finally asks you, “Am I that obvious?” you laugh before holding your hand out, “I’m Y/N, Randy’s cousin.” Billy seemed to stare at your hand for a second before taking it in his and introducing himself. Maybe just this once he’d let the target go and find something worth enjoying.
Bo Sinclair:
· Getting out of the beat-up truck Bo winced as he felt the pain in his arm of the wound that hadn’t fully healed just yet. Lightly holding the spot and remembering how one of the victims had cut him good with that knife. He sighed and shrugged the thought off before walking towards the dimly lit bar. Sitting down on one of the stools and ordering a beer.
· He soon becomes aware of a man groaning angrily at one of the nearby pool tables, “There aint no way you're winning again without cheatin’” he hears the man grumble. Bo’s fairly accustomed to the usual pool bets but what does surprise him is the feminine laugh he hears in response, he turns around to see you bent over the table lining up your next shot. He feels his throat dry up at the sight of the position you’re in and the teasing smirk that’s on your face.
· “Don’t be a sore loser Jimmy,” you laugh before sinking yet another ball into its socket. Bo can barely take his eyes off you as he leans back taking another sip of his beer. You and the man seem to go back and forth in arguing about the game, and he feels like he could watch you all night. The game is coming to an end with you clearly winning, before he even thinks about it Bo has downed the rest of his beer and is walking towards you. As you’re lining up your final shot Bo slams down a couple of bills on the side of the pool table, you look up at him and he flashed his signature grin at you, “I’ve got winner,” he says as he looks you up and down. You sink your last ball before turning back to him, “You’ve got it handsome,” she smirks. Oh, you were trouble, and Bo couldn’t wait to see how this night turned out.
Jason Voorhees:
· It had been a quiet week for Jason, no campers, no teens, nothing. He had been out collecting wood for the fire when he found a small stone, he liked collecting bits and pieces from around the woods. Small knickknacks to decorate the shabby cabin he called home. The stone had five points and could be seen as almost the shape of a star, what Jason didn’t realise was he had spent far too long invested in the stone to notice someone walking on the trail nearby. The snapping of some sticks broke him out of his thoughts as he saw a figure nearby.
· Jason quickly shoved the stone in his pocket before walking silently to a spot where he could watch the trail without being spotted. He watched you from afar for a while, seeing you look around you as you made your way down the path. The way you watched the nature around you with a small smile on your face made Jason feel a warmth inside him. He followed you all the way to the camp grounds. You seem surprised to find the open space on your trip. You sat down on one of the stone seats before unpacking some lunch for yourself.
· It wasn’t long before you had gotten up and were walking around the small opening. It was then that Jason heard you speak for the first time which caused him to tense in fear. “Hey there little guy.” That was it, you must’ve seen him. He froze as you stepped towards his hiding spot only to stop a few feet in front of where he stood, where he thought he was hidden by the shrubs. But you weren’t looking at him to his relief, he saw the small squirrel perched on a branch that seemed to have your attention. He felt himself relax as he noticed this before trying to silently move further to the other side of the clearing.
· To his surprise the squirrel hadn’t run away, he must’ve smelt the food in your hand as he stood hesitantly sniffing the air. “You hungry?” you asked him rhetorically before holding out a small piece of crust for the squirrel and placing it on the branch near him. Jason watched and couldn’t help but melt at your kindness, he heard the familiar voice in his head but this time the voice was calm, telling him you needed protection, you needed him. But how was he supposed to approach you. A few minutes passed and you turned back to your seat, walking over you noticed something had now been placed where you once sat. You picked up the small stone, noticing it was shaped like a star. You looked around for someone before looking back at the stone, a small smile on your face. It warmed Jason’s heart as he prepared himself to find you more gifts.
Lester Sinclair:
· Lester found himself almost zoning out as he drove down the all too familiar road, the predictability of the same turns and sights that he saw every day seeming to get on his nerves today. Until he noticed a car on the side of the road, he hated his part in this, he tried to just shut himself off from it and think of whoever the poor bastard was that wandered their way as just a stranger, a nobody with no identity. It helped that they were usually rude to him, at least that way he felt less remorse for them. He couldn’t see the person that was hidden under the hood, probably uselessly trying to figure out what was wrong with their car.
· “Looks like you could use a hand.” He didn’t expect the slight squeal from whoever was behind the hood before you walked out, “oh gosh you gave me a fright,” you giggled. Lester was trying to pick his jaw up off the floor and string a sentence together, you definitely weren’t the first young lady to come through these parts but he sure thought you were the prettiest. “Uh, sorry ma’am.” He gulped before wracking his brain for words, “I saw you stuck here and thought you could use a hand.” You sighed before closing the hood, “Unless you happen to have a fanbelt on you, I don’t think so,” He felt the slight dread creep up as he remembered the scenario, he hesitated before spilling his usual script about taking you to see Bo. Of course, you agreed, having no other option and climbing into his truck.
· Not long into the drive you spoke, “I’m Y/N by the way,” he nodded before realising you were waiting for a response, “Oh, I’m Lester,” he responded. “Lester,” you repeated with a smile, he couldn’t help the feeling in his stomach when you repeated his name. “Well thank you very much Lester, I definitely owe you one for driving me all this way.” The more you spoke the worse he was starting to feel, you seemed kind, you were nice to him which was a welcome change, you laughed along with him instead of at him, you didn’t deserve the fate that you were walking into. As you neared Ambrose he realised he couldn’t let you die, he didn’t know how yet but he would do everything he could to keep Bo from hurting you. He knew life was going to be anything but predictable with you around
Stu Macher:
· Stu groans when the bell rings, his least favourite subject and it was the first lesson of the day. “You coming Stu?” He looks at Randy as he seems to think it over, “Nah, we’ve got Evans, I don’t need another detention from that douche.” Randy just rolls his eyes as Stu starts walking in the opposite direction, he hears Randy grumble some smart-ass comment to himself as he walks away.
· Stu was about to turn towards the entrance when he heard you curse to yourself, he glanced at you before turning the corner. “Woah,” he stopped in his tracks before backing up back into the hallway and looking you over again. You must be new, he definitely would’ve remembered you if he had seen you before. You're too engrossed in the paper in your hands to notice someone coming up to you and leaning against the lockers. He puts on his cheesiest grin before getting your attention “Hey there,” you almost jump out of your skin as you drop your books.
· “Oh man I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Stu apologises as he crouches down and begins to pick up your things, you join him in picking up your books, “No don’t be, I should’ve been paying more attention,” you give him a soft smile before standing back up as he passes you some of your belongings, “You must be new, haven’t seen you around here,” you just nod before continuing, “actually, i’m having some trouble finding my class,” he looks over the schedule you had been engrossed in. “Oh that’s actually where I’m headed, I can take you if you’d like,” he couldn’t help but smile at the way you beamed up at him as you agreed.
· The walk was filled with Stu making you laugh, as you neared the class he seemed to slow down and began talking to you again. “You know, I’d be happy to show you to your other classes if you need help finding them after this?” you agreed and he walked into the class with you. A big smile on his face even after being reprimanded by your teacher. “I thought you weren’t coming,” Randy whispers to him, “Yeah something changed my mind,” he replied, not taking his eyes off you. Maybe this class was worth showing up to.
Vincent Sinclair:
· Vincent had been in the museum, positioning his newest artwork. He stared at it with a slight tilt of his head, questioning every stroke, every pose and every colour. He couldn’t help it, he knew he was good at what he did but insecurity still nagged at every decision he made. He was in his own world when the creak of the front door broke him out of his stupor. Bo had told him a small group of victims would be heading down to the museum while he worked on ‘finding’ a fan belt for them. Vincent was quick to move to his usual hiding spots to watch them.
· Vincent hated how loud this group was, joking and making fun of his art. “You have to be pretty sick to make any of this.” One of the guys spoke up, Vincent immediately started thinking of how he would hurt this man. It wasn’t until a softer voice spoke up that he noticed the girl trailing at the back of the group, “Come on guys, don’t be so rude. Someone must have put a lot of effort into these.” It was then that Vincent could finally make out your form, you seemed quiet even when speaking up for him, defending his work. Vincent wished he could get a better look at you. The man scoffed, “Okay art freak.” Vincent saw the way you practically flinched at the insult before turning away from the group to go and look at some other pieces.
· Vincent felt angry, the man would definitely suffer. He made his way closer to where you were, staying hidden as he watched you from afar. He could tell the insult had hurt you and this only made him angrier. You seemed to pause as you squinted closer to the art work on the wall, brushing some dust off the framing. “Vincent,” you read the signature to yourself with a small smile on your face, Vincent stilled when he heard you. He wasn’t sure what it was but something about hearing you say his name struck a chord in him. He was more than intrigued by you, he felt drawn to you in a way he had never felt before. He wasn’t sure what this meant but whatever it was he knew Bo wouldn’t like it.
#fanfic#reading#authors#fanart#fan fic writing#house of wax#vincent sinclair#vincent sinclair x reader#stu macher#stu macher x reader#ghostface x reader#billy loomis#billy loomis x reader#jason voorhees#jason voorhees x reader#lester sinclair#lester sinclair x reader#slasher#slasher fandom#slasher movies#slasher fanfiction#slasher x reader#horror movies#horror headcanons#character headcanons
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Blue Lock: kisses ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ
summary: kissing the blue lock boys!
~~~Isagi/Bachira/Nagi/Rin/Kaiser~~~
BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 💋 - aria
ᡣ𐭩 Isagi Yoichi ᡣ𐭩
Isagi’s favorite place to kiss you is your cheek! He isn’t the most spontaneous boyfriend but you’ll never know when he’s gonna lean over and give you a quick, gentle kiss on the cheek
His kisses are perfect, almost calculated. He moves in perfect sync with you like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. He draws them out unintentionally, he’s mindlessly greedy about it. He draws them out longer than either of you intended and doesn’t feel bad about it once you’ve pulled apart.
ᡣ𐭩 Bachira Meguru ᡣ𐭩
Bachira’s favorite place to kiss you is anywhere! He’s the kiss bandit, what can I say. His lips meet your skin time and time again all throughout the day each time catching you just as off guard as the last and he loves it. The flustered look on your face when you feel him creep up behind and kiss your shoulder, to your neck, then your cheek. When he lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles, he can’t just stop there, he has to kiss all the way up your arm until he reaches your lips. When he lays in your lap he plants sloppy kisses to your thighs, when he hugs you he’ll kiss the back of your head and behind your ear. ANYWHERE!!!
His kisses are sweet and giddy. He’s almost always smiling into the kiss just a little bit. He kisses you like he’s been waiting to kiss you for ages, his hands cupping your face and his lips eager against yours.
ᡣ𐭩 Nagi Seishiro ᡣ𐭩
Nagi’s favorite place to kiss you is the top of your head! Chances are, you’re shorter than this guy, and it’s just super easy for him to do. All he has to do is lean down a little and place a soft kiss to your head. He thinks it’s really cute when he does it, like he thinks to himself, “Oh, I bet they think that’s really cute.” Such a silly guy.
His kisses are lazy and passive. He literally just trusts the process and it works every time because his kisses feel like so nice and loving. Truly the only thing he brings to the table other than moving his mouth aimlessly against yours is that he’s doing it with love. Will follow the flow you set and stick to it.
ᡣ𐭩 Rin Itoshi ᡣ𐭩
Rin’s favorite place to kiss you is your forehead! He likes forehead kisses because they’re gentle and endearing. He likes giving and receiving them, so make sure you give him some back! He’ll run his fingers through your hair before resting his palm on the back of your head and tilting it slightly so he can plant a sweet kiss to your forehead.
His kisses are thoughtful, he makes them count. Every kiss that Rin gives you is fully intentional and sincere. When he kisses you he wants you to be in that short moment with him and just enjoy it the way he is. They’re always accompanied by a content release of air from his nose once his lips finally meet yours. He’s so glad he can just do this whenever he wants to and it makes him feel better about everything instantly.
ᡣ𐭩 Michael Kaiser ᡣ𐭩
Michael’s favorite place to kiss you is your hand! You are literally the light of this man’s life and he views you with the highest of revere. You get royal treatment from him. He also gets a kick out of seeing your flustered face at his dramatic displays of affection, taking your hand in his, placing his lips to it lovingly while maintaining gentle eye contact with you. He does this unconsciously sometimes which is very sweet but he likes to make it an intimate moment.
His kisses are deep and passionate. Kaiser kisses you like it might be the last time he ever does, every time. His logic is, if he’s going to be that close to you, he should be as close as possible. And so every kiss with him is full of love and yearning, until pulling apart feels almost blasphemous.
Sorry this is so short :( I worked 10 hours today and I’m literally so tired but I still wanted to post at least once (although now that I’m in the groove I may post my sae nsfw alphabet today Idk we’ll see if not then definitely tomorrow) ok byeeee stay safe much love ❤️ -aria
#blue lock headcanons#bllk x reader#blue lock#blue lock fanfiction#blue lock x reader#bllk imagines#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x you#bllk fluff#bllk smut#blue lock isagi#blue lock bachira#blue lock kaiser#blue lock rin#blue lock nagi#nagi seishiro#isagi yoichi#bachira meguru#michael kaiser#rin itoshi
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do you love me?;
tokrev ver.
synopsis: you/they wake them/you up at 3am.
ft + wc: isagi yoichi, michael kaiser, oliver aiku. around 2k
warnings: gn!reader, no set timelines, pet names, situationship (oliver) extremely! soft! oliver!!, slightly angsty (oliver), slight jealousy (kaiser), kaiser's is suggestive, none really for isagi! aaand that should be it!
a/n: i finally finished something!! i've been in such a rut not only with writing but with reading. TnT. hopefully i can write more once my semester is finished! anyways, i wrote oliver's in basically one sitting kicking my feet n screaming. also ily to zen cus i dropped like the entire fic in their dms LMFAOO. and ily to su for proofreading for me!! hope u enjoy ♡.
ETA: DO NOT TRANSLATE OR SHARE ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM. THANK YOU.
isagi:
you always saw the twinkle in isagi yoichi’s eyes when he talked about soccer. it was cute, charming, and part of what attracted you to him. when the two of you finally started dating, soccer was very much a part of your lives. you’d pop in at practice whenever you could and much to his delight, you’d even try to learn about his idols and the game.
when you studied it on your own, it was fine, you could go at your own pace. but when isagi was there, it was a little different. he always had so much to say, so many techniques and teams to go over. he was like a walking soccer encyclopedia and you appreciated it, even when it got a little overwhelming.
but tonight, as he talked your ear off about noel noa for the nth time, you found yourself dozing off. the black haired striker’s eyes were glued to the match he was playing on the tv, every so often rewinding or slowing down a play to explain it. you tried your best, really, to stay awake but it was nearing 3am and soon enough yoichi was speaking to himself.
“man, that was sick!” he exclaims. he’s about to ask your opinion when he finally looks back to see your head in your arms, asleep. “…oh.”
he rouses you out of sleep, shaking your shoulder gently. when you awaken you’re met with his pouting face. you blink off the drowsiness, rubbing your eyes. “sorry i dozed off…” you reach for the remote, but he stops you. “yoichi?”
“do you love me?” you’re caught off guard by the seriousness in his voice and the intensity of his gaze.
you nod, “of course i do.”
“say it.” it’s not uncharacteristic for him to be intense at times, but the glint in his eye is something you usually only see when he’s playing. you didn’t think you’d see it now and it’s a bit amusing.
“i love you, yoichi.” you say, a smug grin on your face as you poke at his pouty cheeks. “aww, are you upset?”
snapping out of it, he waves your hand away, slightly turning while his cheeks blush bright red. “…no.”
“my baby,” you coo, continuing to reach over and squish his cheeks, “i’m sorry for falling asleep, yoi.”
“it’s okay…” he mumbles, enjoying the attention, “i didn’t realize you were so sleepy.”
“well, it is 3am…” you giggle, pointing to his alarm clock.
it’s cute how fast his head whips around to look. “oh… my bad.” he apologizes, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.
“don’t worry about it,” you shrug, before getting up and pulling at his hands. “let’s go to sleep, yeah?”
but isagi pauses, conflicted, before glancing back at the tv. “… just one more play?”
“yoichi!” you whine, the idea of cuddling with your boyfriend in bed being extremely appealing.
“please?” he pleads, hands clasped, and you sigh, giving in to his doe eyes.
“fine. one more. that’s it and then we’re going to bed.” you say, settling down next to him. but if you’re being honest, you’re never immune to isagi yoichi.
the light in his eyes as he rambles and talks to you about his favorite thing always overwhelms anything else. you love him, wholly and fully. and maybe that’s why you don’t mention anything as one play turns to two, which then turns into the entire match. not a single word escapes you as he loads up the next game, telling you “this next one is insane.”
it’s isagi’s turn to fall asleep and as the sun peeks over the horizon, you press a peck to his cheek as you wrap a blanket over his shoulders.
“good night, yoichi.”
kaiser:
michael kaiser was many things, first and foremost a soccer player, secondly, a striker with a god complex and most importantly, your boyfriend. well, perhaps most important to you and although you’re mostly able to cast aside that doubt to love him fully, there are still moments when you just have to hear it.
it’s 3am and kaiser’s in deep sleep, evident by the subtle snores coming from him. in contrast, you’re fully awake and sitting next to him, one finger trailing the expanse of his skin, from the curve of his cheek to the line of his jaw. he stirs slightly, but nonetheless stays asleep and that annoys you.
“michael,” you whine, prodding at his cheek, “do you love me?” his eyelids flutter, face contorting to the singsong of your voice.
“huh?” he responds, eyes opening and brows furrowing into a scowl you continue to prod. he grabs your hand, pulling it away from him. “what is it?”
“do you love me?” you repeat, happily humming at his pretty face.
he tsks before grumbling out a “nein.” he huffs before turning over.
you pause, before scowling yourself. “what did you just say?”
“nein.” he reiterates, closing his eyes. “goodnight.”
you scoff, before shaking him again. “hey… seriously!” but it’s useless. kaiser’s decided it’s time for bed. truth be told, you should probably get some sleep too. but it’s annoying when you do feel like a side character in his story and not his co-lead. fine, you can be petty too.
you round up your pillows, sighing and making sure to climb over him as you get off the bed. he catches your wrist as you try to leave, brow arched.
“where are you going?” he asks, confused.
“the couch.” you deadpan.
“why?”
“i don’t wanna sleep next to someone who doesn’t love me.” you pout, hugging your pillow tightly.
“it was a joke, liebe.” he sighs, pulling you down back into bed. “of course, i love you.”
“hmm… you’re just pacifying me.” you say, hoping he’ll get the hint and finally give you some of the affection you’ve been craving.
and he does, rolling his eyes before pressing a deep kiss to your lips. he makes sure to give you a few more afterwards, your giggle floating around his ears. “happy now?”
“very.” you smile and he smiles back, but you can’t let him think he’s won just yet. “hey, i have a joke too.”
“yeah? and you think it’s better than mine?” he teases and you grin even wider, nodding excitedly. “i’m all ears.”
“okay. make sure you listen and like, really listen.” you command and he nods, moving his ear closer to your lips. “you’re a better player than isagi yoichi.”
his face falls immediately and you burst out laughing, pushing off of him and grabbing your pillow again. you figure after your little stint, you’ll seriously be sleeping on the couch.
“super funny, right? i should be a comedian.” you muse, before leaning down and giving him a peck on the cheek. “good night, emperor.”
you turn to leave again, but kaiser’s quick to pull you down and underneath him. you yelp as he straddles you, pinning your wrists above your head. he’s frighteningly close, the tips of his blonde and blue hair hovering over your skin.
there’s one thing about him that you don't know and it’s that he’ll never admit how soft you make him, how it’s actually he who melts at the sound of your voice. how it’s him who wants to hear nothing but endless praise from you, so maybe he did get a little mad at that joke.
“m-michael?” you squeak, squirming under his hold, “what are you doing?”
“what do you mean? i’ve gotta remind you who the best striker in the world is.” he states and you recognize that look in his eyes. you didn’t think it’d rile him up this much.
“babe, it was a joke!”
he barks a laugh as you squirm harder underneath him. “it’s gonna be a long night, liebe.”
oliver:
“hey oliver, do you love me?”
perhaps not the best time to ask, neon bright 3:00 AM displayed on your alarm clock lets you know that. but still, the beating of oliver aiku’s heart that drums through your ears prompts you to ask anyway.
he’s asleep, or so you think, and shirtless, with the press of your cheek against his chest, his skin feels warm. shyly, you stay looking at the wall, sometimes trailing down to his limp hand. meanwhile, your fingers ghost over his skin, writing little “i love you”s and infinity signs like an incantation or a spell.
“dumb question,” you continue, “i know you don’t.” you give a small smile, it’s how the situation between you two works. you can sleep together, hold hands, maybe even call each other ‘partners’, but you never breach that threshold. he’s always just out of reach.
but oliver is awake, eyes stirred open by the figure eights you’ve been writing on him. he’s been listening to you the entire time, eyes blinking up at the ceiling.
“well… in case you were wondering, i think i love you,” you confess, your heart thumping wildly, “like a lot, actually. do you… think i’m stupid?” you pause, before opening your mouth to say that he doesn’t have to answer, but oliver cuts you off.
“not really.” he says, the hand that was resting on your waist, starting to stroke your skin.
you freeze before pushing yourself up and off of him. “hey! h-how long have you been awake?”
he smirks and you hate the way your heart flutters, “a while,” he sits up, “hey, i love myself too.”
you deflate a little, it’s too much of the same, the same jokes and the brushing off of feelings. but you should know this by now, that he doesn’t love you. “yeah, just not me.” you look away, wishing he would lie to you just one time. “i should go-“
he reaches over, grabbing your chin between his fingers and leveling your gazes together. “i never said that.”
you blink, wide-eyed and you’re not sure what to do or even what to say. and while you’re sure your heart is beating so fast you swear he can hear it, you’re also emboldened, mustering up the courage to ask, “never said what?” but your voice comes out small, whispery and featherlight.
“that i don’t love you.” he says. he doesn’t break eye-contact, pretty two-tone eyes locked on yours.
you can’t help your emotions, the way they swell up in you overwhelmingly, as if you’re drowning in them.
“do you love me, oliver?” you’re too happy to be embarrassed by the break in your voice when you say his name, too fixated on the way he touches you so gently. it’s like he can’t hurt you now, no matter what he’s done before.
he nods, the hand on your chin moving to cup your cheek as he strokes his thumb reassuringly over your skin. he catches the tears that fall, thinking that it’s much better to see you happy cry than when he does something stupid.
“could you say it? please?” you sniffle, placing a hand over his, keening into his touch.
he gives a breathy laugh out of nervousness, before he clears his throat and says it, loud and clear. “i love you, y/n.”
you laugh through your tears, relieved, because all the time you spent wondering was okay and the wait was worth it. the way it rolls off his tongue is so natural and so warm it has your head spinning.
he brings up his other hand, wiping away at the tears that continue to fall. “c’mon baby, you’re gonna cry all night?” he teases, squishing your cheeks between his hands.
“‘m not dreaming?” you mumble, shaking your head, “this is real? you really love me?”
maybe when you wake up in the morning it’ll be different. maybe he’ll be back to the same old oliver, the one who deflects and dodges all your questions. so maybe it is a dream. but, if this is a dream… do they always feel so good? and is it possible to stay asleep?
he hums, before asking, “does this feel real?” as he leans in to press a kiss to your lips. it’s sincere and authentic, the kind that makes your heart bloom. he pulls away, but only slightly to rest his forehead against yours. you nod and he grins, “good.”
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk#blue lock x you#bllk fluff#bllk x reader#isagi yoichi x reader#michael kaiser x reader#oliver aiku x reader#isagi yoichi#michael kaiser#oliver aiku#pibby writing
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“how fun it’s going to be to fuck rip your insides out”
whatever you do… don’t fuck the psycho killer!!!
warnings: minors/ageless blogs dni, slight knife play, INO AS GHOSTFACE MHMM :3 (takuma girlies this one is for u mwahh), ino x fem reader , oral + unprotected , fingering, stalking , pet names , use of y/n , everything is consented btw
word count: 1.6k
a/n: fun fact this fic was based on a dream i had the other night LOL freak
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you were cozied up in your bedroom of the apartment that you shared with your best friend, utahime, alone one night watching horror movies (like a psychopath :D ) because she had left to go to a halloween party that one of her boyfriend’s frat friends was throwing.
“are you sure you don’t want to come y/n? i’ll feel bad just leaving you here, especially with that rumor of that ghostface slasher guy going around… you’ll probably be safer with us, y’know?” your bestie asked out of concern.
“yes ‘hime, ill be fine don’t worry!!! plus i know im going to be all awk since i won’t really know anyone but you” you reassured her. “okay well, just text me if you need anything, and if you want me to stop by for food on the way back just let me know ‘kay!! be safe please and lock the doors when i leave” she said as she gave you a tight hug.
“okay! bye! have fun!! but not too much fun if you catch my drift” you teased as you stood behind the door, “oh hush” utahime laughed as she walked away and met up with her boyfriend down the stairs. you closed the door (forgetting to lock the door because you swore that you heard the click but it was just in your imagination) and walked back to your room to start your michael myers movie marathon which got you to the situation you were in now.
little did you know that this rumored “ghostface” was actually plotting on you next, as he had seen you around campus and thought that you were the most beautiful thing to walk this earth but he didn’t know how he was going to approach you, so he decided to do it the only way he knew how. and lucky for him the door you thought was locked was calling for him, inviting him inside. you were too focused in on your movies, that you didn’t hear the sounds of him coming in and let alone hear him standing outside your bedroom door.
you were about to pop another brownie into your mouth when this mr. ghostface decided to come up behind you and place his hand over your mouth to muffle your shocked screams. you wanted to turn your head to see who it was but this mysterious masked man had a tight grip on you that it was almost impossible for you to turn around and catch a peek. “what’s the matter y/n, you look like you seen a ghost” coyly said from the man behind the mask
wait a sec… why does his voice seem so familiar.. and how does he know my name..?
“if you keep quiet and won’t tell anyone you seen me tonight, i won’t cut your pretty head off and keep it for myself, yeah?” you muffled a “mhm” and he delicately (which is ironic for a psycho killer) removed his hand from your mouth. “so… you got a boyfriend?” he inquired, you shook your head no, in fear of what he’ll do if you speak. “good.. because you don’t know how much i been thinking about this moment y/n. it’s been hard seeing you walk around campus knowing your not mine.” he whispered in your ear as one hand slips down to the waistband of your ghost covered boyshorts and the other down to your right breast in your cropped black tank top.
“someone’s nice and wet for someone who should be scared of the fact that the psycho killer is in their bedroom right now huh” he mocked you in your ear as he plunged two fingers inside of you and you let out a whimper. “cum for me baby and maybe ill let you see who i am”. he was scissoring in and out of you so good that you just couldn’t help but chase your release as you rode his fingers.
what am i thinking?? i just came on a stranger’s fingers?? let alone THE ghost face killer’s fingers??
“eager to know who i am, hmm?” he said as he released his fingers from inside you and up under his mask to get a taste of you. “greedy girl… i’m sorry.. but im not done with you just yet, i wanna hear you scream” as he flips you over and lays you on your back, he pulls your shorts down to reveal that (scary!!!) you aren’t wearing any panties? you can feel the flush of embarrassment rising in your face but all you hear from him is low groan and seeing him lift the mask up (just a teeny bit, exposing everything under the tip of his nose)
“wow your pussy is just as pretty as you, i need to taste more of it too” he starts kitten licking at your clit to get a taste then like the sicko he is, something ignites in him that make him start devouring you. you can’t help the whimpers that come out of you as he starts eating you like a man who hasn’t had a meal in 5 months. he then brings the same 2 fingers that were in you previously back into you as he starts sucking on your clit. you feel your second orgasm of the night building up, “gonna cum baby? good job, you’re doing amazing , i got one more thing for you then you can see who i am” you see a little smirk peek out from under his mask; you can’t help but wonder why does this dude look and seem so familiar? you had a feeling it was that cute, laidback guy from your algebra course, ino takuma. but you could also be wrong and its also wrong that you were about to cum on this strangers fingers + mouth for the second time thinking about another guy like a whore.
“good girl, but i’m going to need you scream on this cock, m’kay?” he pulls down the black sweatpants that he had on revealing the hard on he had hidden in his boxers and his rock hard abs showing from underneath his sweatshirt. fuck, you didn’t know who was more sicker in the head, this stranger that just broke in and is now about to fuck you or the fact you are drooling over his long, skinny, and hard cock staring back at you. either way, you just wanted him to relieve the need you had built up. with his mask still a little lifted, he started giving light pecks on your neck and on your chest as he was rolling his hips into you, leaving your arousal smearing all over the front of his boxers.
“f-fuck me… please” you mumbled under your breath.
“what was that doll? you said you want me to…” he paused as he let his length spring out as he freed it from his boxers, “to fuck you?” he pumped it a few times as he watched you practically beg for him with your cute, big, pleading eyes, “please” you whimpered as you look up at him. and he was wasting nooooo time because like i said before, he was waaaitinggg for this moment ever since he’s laid eyes on you. he won’t admit it but the amount of times he’s fisted himself to you, is a shameful amount but even he can’t believe it himself right now in this moment that his dream was about to come true.
he let out a low growl as he bottoms out inside of you, feeling you clench and gasp around him as you struggle to take him whole, he was fighting the urge not to finish already because goodness gracious did you feel ten times way better than his hand. “you’re such a good girl, you know that right… taking it so good, letting a psycho killer fuck you like the whore you are” he then remembered that he had his prop knife with him, not the real one but its close to it, because he didn’t want to hurt his beautiful girl, and pulled it out to hold it gently against your neck while still pounding you into your pink mattress. “just think baby, how fun this is going to be when i fuck your guts out, yeah?” deep down you knew you had some kinks, but whoever this stranger is, he just unleashed a kink you never knew you had because you couldn’t help the sounds that rolled out of your mouth as he kept hitting that sweet spot in you while holding his signature weapon to your throat.
and its like somehow he knew what you were about to ask because he took off his mask and you were shocked to see that this stranger who was deep inside of you, messy brown hair down, sweat running down his jawline, and breathless ,was indeed who you had a feeling about before. the man you caught yourself drooling over in algebra class many times was the ghostface slasher that was pounding into you at this very moment. you felt your orgasm coming, and coming hard all over his length and at the same time you can feel his coming too. “g’nna cum all over this cock aren’t you pretty girl? go ‘head, it’s all yours ma. you’re going to make me cum all inside of you too” he moaned in your ear as he shot long and warm ropes of his seed into you as he collapsed on top of your warm, fucked out body.
you couldn’t help but play with his hair a little bit as you mumbled “ino… is that you..” he was shocked that you even knew his name but he gave you a kiss to your cheek to confirm that yes, it was him. “did i scare ya?” he giggled. “let’s do this again sometime, yeah?”
now… if utahime comes home to see you like this when she checks in on you, what the heck were you going to tell her when she sees you cuddled up with this psycho killer…
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SORRY GUYS FOR THE RUSHED ENDING don’t hate me pls 😔
#gojoscinnamonroll ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊#jjk kinktober#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#ghostface#ghostface jjk#jjk ino#ino takuma#ino takuma smut#jjk ino smut#gojo x reader#geto x reader#toji x reader#choso x reader#jjk x reader#nanami x reader
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Pinky Promise
Ghostface x Black Fem Reader Drabble
Bimbo!Reader
CW: peeps named Emma caught a crazy stray im sorry 😭
TW: murder mention
Word Count: 952 (give or take)
After waking up at 2 am, you drag your groggy naked body out of bed, wrap a little blanket around yourself, and slip on your slippers, preparing for the cold air in the hallway. As soon as you open your room door, your phone rings, the sound of your favorite song muffled by the blankets. Confused, you walk back to the bed and rummage through your comforter until your phone falls onto your mattress with a soft thud. The screen was lit up, showing ‘Unknown Caller’ on the screen to which you tilt your empty head and pick it up.
“Uh, hello?”
“Well hello there, pretty girl~”
You chuckle, immediately flattered by the man’s tone and compliment: “Um, hi...? Who is this?”
“You have such a pretty voice over the phone, (Y/n). Sounds sexier than I expected.”
You pause, freezing your steps in the hallway, “Wha- I... wait, how’d you know my name?”
“Oh, I know a lot of things, baby.”
“Really?”
“You may not see me but I see everything.”
“Oh, like a god?”
The man chuckled, mocking your stupidity, “In a way, yes. And you know what, gorgeous?”
“What?”
“Since you asked me how I knew your name, that means you’re not as dumb a bitch as Emma said you were.”
You gasp softly, “She said that?”
“That and more, princess. Emma gave me an earful; going on and on about how ‘all you do is be pretty’ and that ‘you've got nothing going on’.”
“She... wouldn’t say that—”
“You were nothing but a stupid bimbo to her. She may be right, but the least she could do was say it to your face, don'tcha think?”
“Well, I mean...”
“Emma isn't a very nice person, is she?”
“No, I mean, yes! She’s my bestie!”
He chuckled into the phone, loving how much he was frazzling your singular brain cell with rapid-fire information as you made your way into your kitchen, giving him a better view of you.
“Is she now? I think she was pretty fucking messy, in more ways than one.”
Your grip on the blanket around you tightens, “What do you mean?”
“Well I’m only calling you as per her recommendation, sweet cheeks. She thought she could trade her life for yours, but I quickly informed her that’s not how I roll. And believe me, she had a lot more to say before I split her open tits to thighs.”
You freeze in the middle of the kitchen, jaw-dropping as you lose your breath, your eyes stinging with tears. He chuckles at your faltering breaths while you rack your small brain for why else he could be calling. Your hand trembles against the phone as you frantically look around your kitchen, hoping to find an obvious camera before deciding to close the kitchen curtains.
“Mm, so there are neurons firing in that skull.” He laughs, watching you panic on his monitors, “Do you know why I’m calling?”
“To.... to kill me too...?” The words leaving your mouth make a tear roll down your cheek.
“Now why would I do that, pretty girl?”
“I don't know!” The stress and confusion make you burst into tears. “I swear I don’t know, just please don't hurt me.”
“Aw, there's no need to cry, beautiful, I just want to ask you something.”
“What, that’s all?”
“Mhm; I just want you to tell me what your favorite scary movie is.”
“What? I-I-I—”
The man sighs. “Come on, you don’t need brains for this, baby, this is easy. What’s your favorite scary movie?”
“Um, Halloween... t-the Rob Zombie one.”
“That's a remake, you know.”
“Y-yeah, I rewatch it all the time.”
“Interesting. What do you like about it?”
“Um, Michael's backstory makes you feel bad for him and then I like his long hair when he's older.”
The man chuckles in your ear, “So you like big guys with long hair huh? You like masks too?”
“I guess, maybe, I don’t know...”
“So, let's say a handsome guy with long hair walks into your room wearing a mask: what would you think?”
“How would I know he's handsome if he's wearing a mask?”
“You'd ask him to remove it?”
“I want to know what he looks like.”
“Mm, so you don’t like masks, that’s a shame. So he takes it off and then you realize it's me: how would you feel about that?”
You whimper, thinking he meant he was in your room, “I'd be scared.”
He smirked. “Why’s that, sweetheart? I've been a nice enough guy, haven’t I?”
“But you... You killed my friend...”
“A friend who didn't like you... She got what was coming to her. So why are you scared?"
“I-I don't know. Uh w-why else would you be calling me if you weren't gonna... gonna—”
“What you're feeling right now is nothing compared to what I do to people I hate. You're safe with me, baby.”
You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, choking up sobs. “You promise?”
“I promise, you wanna know why?”
You take a deep, shaky breath to try and compose yourself, “Why?”
“I like you, (Y/n). I love how fucking clueless you are— so interesting for someone without a single thought in their head. I never know what you're gonna say next. You keep me engaged— entertained: I like that.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. And that voice? Ugh, you have no idea the things I'd do for you. You're helpless, and you're mine now. I’m gonna call you every night just to hear you speak, ya hear me?”
“Okay... Okay, if it means you won’t hurt me.”
“I already promised, didn’t I? You don’t have to worry that pretty little head about that.”
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(a/n): wrote abt ghostface, still managed to make it abt Michael 😩😩 how I even 😭
#black reader#black writers#x black reader#x black fem reader#slashers fanfiction#slashers x reader#slashers x you#black fem reader#ghostface#slashers imagine#slashers#scream#happy halloweeeeeeen#halloween#scream movies#ghostface x reader#ghostface x you#ghostface x y/n#october#happy halloween#spooky season#spooky#slasher x reader#slasher x you#slasher x y/n#slasher x final girl#slasher movies#slasher fandom#slashers x y/n#black bimbo
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While I'm talking about DPxDC that isn't BatFam, I think Lucifer Morningstar would absolutely vibe with Danny
Danny would think Lucifer is a fruit loop like Vlad, but this dude isn't trying to actively kill him and oh look he's giving Danny little treats!! What a cool dude!!
Ghost Zone would be like limbo, which is why it isn't hell. Lucifer actually put the Ghost King in charge of the Zone to make sure limbo could run seperately (and to piss off his dad). So when Lucifer finds out some 13 year old half dead kid is king, he gets curious. He goes to Azrael and finds out that she couldn't take his soul. She felt bad so she turned him into a half ghost.
Lucifer is a bit upset and wonders why The Big Man hasn't fixed it yet, but just let's it go. Azrael admits she didn't expect him to become Ghost King. Sides, Michael didn't kill him when he was playing as Lucifer!! That's a plus!!
Lucifer introduces himself to Danny, who almost has a heart attack. The two get along somewhat well and Lucifer starts to look after Danny for a bit. He absolutely adores him and eventually Dan (Lucifer's Dan, not dark Dan) ends up being sent to the Zone so Danny could keep track of him. Dan and Danny bicker like no tomorrow. Dan doesn't understand why he's with some kid but eventually calms down when he realizes Danny isn't some immortal who just looks 13.
Dan apologizes btw. He may be a dick, but he's a nice dude in the end to kids.
Anyways. Chloe would actually cry over the fact that Danny is dead and Trix would be sad for a bit before being happy she has someone to play with. Maze would be sad but take Danny in.
Maze and Danny are an unbearable duo.
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Hey I was reading your X-men posts and I just had an idea and if it is possible for you can you write about reader was with Bucky or Steve or both (your choice) but they break her heart and she finds love again with Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) or Eric Lehnsherr (Michael Fassbender) or both (again your choice) and protect her from Steve/Bucky 😅❤️
hi honey! thank you for requesting this, I hope you like what I've written!
summary - love can be deceiving especially with the wrong person, but it's so much more when it's with the right person.
warning - cheating? angst, word whore is used, insecurities, small violence.
the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)
Bucky Barnes had been your light since the day The Avengers found you. He had been the one to comfort you when the nightmares would become too much, the one to love you like you’ve never been loved before. So why did it feel like your heart was being ripped out of your chest as you heard him talking to his friends. Why did it feel like the opposite of love?
“I’m so sick of Y/n being attached to me all of the time! And does she really think I love her?! Has she seen herself lately? She’s no Nat or Sharon. She’s just her, plain.” Bucky groans, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of his beer. “Oh, did I tell you that I hooked up with a smoking hot babe last night?” He smirks. “Man could she bend.”
You suck in a breath quietly, not wanting to be heard and also struggling to hold back your pain. You walk back to your room, quickly packing your things and disappearing into the night. You knew it was too good to be true, not once in your life had anything ever turned out good. You always seemed to end up with the short end of the stick. You had nowhere to go, a bag in your hand and the moon shining down on you. You felt stupid, you should’ve stayed, found a place before you left.
You decided to walk a few blocks, taking a random train, wanting to distance yourself. You had turned your phone off and threw it away at the first sight of Bucky calling you. You couldn’t turn back now, too busy with your head down, looking at the ground you manage to bump into someone. Your bag falling from your hands, hitting the floor with a thump. “I–I’m so sorry!” You go to kneel but stop when you notice your bag floating in the air.
“It’s not safe for a pretty girl to be out this late. You don’t know who you might end up bumping into.” You blink, your eyes connecting with blue. The random man hums, “Ah, Y/n L/n. What are you doing so far from home? Don’t you know you have many people looking for you? Some good, some bad.”
You shrug, “I don’t care…” You wipe your cheeks, ensuring there are no tear marks on them. “Who are you?”
The unknown man stares, face like stone. Reminding you so much of the man you just left. “And here I thought I made a reputation for myself.” He studies you, “Erik Lehnsherr, but I also go by Magneto.”
You nod. “It’s nice to meet you. If you excuse me, I have somewhere to be…” You lie, you recognise the name, you knew of the people he used to hang around before he fully embraced his dark side. You couldn’t have him handing you back out of spite, you didn’t want to go back. Not after what you heard.
Erik’s hand flies out, gripping your arm softly. “No, you don’t. But I’m not a total monster, I won’t let a pretty girl like you stay out on the streets all night. God knows what will happen.” He begins to pull you along, ignoring your protests. “Be quiet, don’t make me regret being kind.”
Your mouth falls open as you stand in front of the X-Mansion, beginning to feel uncomfortable as you realise these people may judge you. You weren’t a mutant, you were a freak, an unloved freak. “I–I can’t stay here!”
“Why not?” Erik looks down at you, “Oh, are you one of those vampires that need inviting in?”
You look up at him with your head tilted, “Huh? What… No. I just, these people are… and I’m me… Plain…” You begin to play with your fingers.
“Hmm, whoever said that should get their eyes checked. Now come. I’m sure Charles is awaiting our arrival.” Instead of dragging you by the arm, he moves his hand and opens it, waiting for you to slip yours into his.
Months had passed since you had bumped into Erik, Charles had accepted you into their family, proving to you that you were one of them. Erik had come and gone many of times since he had taken you here, and each time you began to dread when he had to leave again. Your relationship with him was okay, it had begun quite stiff and slowly blossomed into a friendship, the only issue is you fell for him. But you knew you weren’t good enough for a man like Erik, Bucky had proved that.
Today you were excited though, Erik was coming back, and you had decided to wear your favourite dress, remembering the first time you had worn it, and he couldn’t stop staring at it. Deep down your insecurities were saying it’s because he hated the dress and was wondering how someone like you could ruin a pretty piece of clothing by wearing it, but another part of you had hoped it was the opposite, that he liked your dress.
You walk out of your room, smoothing out your dress as you begin to head to the door where you hear voices. A smile forms on your face, ready to see Erik again. You enter the room and your smile falls, he had finally found you. You didn’t want to face him, he was the reason you didn’t think you were good enough anymore.
‘Y/n, I don’t want you to think I invited him, I tried to stop him, but I cannot do much unless I control someone’s mind and you understand why I didn’t, right?’ Charles speaks into your mind, your eyes connect with his and you nod.
“This is where you’ve been this whole time?! Do you know how worried we were?! How could you be so stupid!!” Bucky growls, moving closer. It’s as though you up and leaving him had struck a nerve, but you don’t know why, he didn’t love you like you did him.
You hated yourself in this moment, you wanted to stand up for yourself and show him that his words didn’t hurt, but everything was coming back, and you couldn’t move or speak. “I–I…”
“Take one step closer to her and I’ll shove that arm of yours down your throat.” A voice speaks from behind you, Erik steps out from the shadows, moving closer to you. His hand rests on your lower back, calming you down when you didn’t even know you needed to be calm.
Bucky spins his arm, glaring. “Who are you?” His eyes fall to where Erik’s hand rests before he looks at you. “Is this why you ran off? Because you’re a whore?” Bucky steps forward, ignoring Erik’s warning causing Bucky to let out a cry of pain as his arm begins to get crushed.
“I warned you to not step closer to her. Yet you ignored that and insulted her.” He moves in front of you, pulling you to stay behind him. “Charles may have not wanted to control your mind because he’s a good guy, but I’m not.” With a flick of his hand, Bucky rises and gets thrown through the door. Erik stalks forward and glares at him. “If you ever come near Y/n again, I will kill you.” He makes sure to watch Bucky leave before he turns and walks toward you before you can even open your mouth to thank him, he grips the sides of your face and pulls you in, bringing you into a passionate kiss.
Was this what love felt like?
thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
#imyourbratzdollasks#sosa2imaginesask#imyourbratzdollwork#bucky barnes#erik lehnsherr#bucky barnes x reader#erik lehnsherr x reader#bucky barnes angst#erik lehnsherr imagine#bucky barnes au#erik lehnsherr fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#erik lehnsherr fanfic#bucky barnes drabble#erik lehnsherr fic#bucky barnes fanfic#erik lehnsherr angst#bucky barnes fic#erik lehnsherr fluff#bucky barnes fluff#erik lehnsherr x fem!reader#bucky barnes imagine#erik lehnsherr x female reader#bucky barnes imagines#erik lehnsherr oneshot#bucky barnes one shot#erik lehnsherr imagines#bucky barnes oneshot#erik lehnsherr au#marvel fanfiction
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fast learner
Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader
Synopsis: (related to/continuation of innocence) After taking your virginity and focusing solely on your pleasure, Michael hasn't asked for anything in return, leaving you doubting your ability to please him due to your inexperience. Determined to return the favour you ask him to teach you how to give him a blowjob.
Tags: smut, oral (m receiving), dom!michael, sub!reader, first time giving, lack of experience, implied age gap, huge pp, coming untouched, multiple orgasms, fingering, cheesy ending.
Word Count: 3.4k
Requested: yes/no
Author’s Note: lipgloss dupe (there’s a part where I wanted to write that so bad but thought it’d ruin the moment so I’m telling you here)
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It's been a few weeks since Michael introduced you to the pleasures of the flesh. Over this period, your hunger for each other has become insatiable. Who knew sex could be this good? Not a day has gone by without his hands on you, making you cum over and over again until tears roll down your cheeks, and he knows you’ve reached your limit.
He’s been oh so gentlemanly and giving. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to say he’s been eating you out on an almost daily basis. Especially when your poor cunt is sensitive from all the loving and stretching, he just gently laps at your pussy, his warm tongue making you leak more of your sweet juices into his mouth, all without asking for anything in return.
And that’s exactly what’s been gnawing at you. Compared to how experienced he is in the bedroom, you feel slightly embarrassed. He’s always the one doing all the work, always making sure you cum first, ensuring you don’t lift a finger. As much as you love it, it’s starting to make you feel inadequate.
You want to make him feel good as well, but oddly enough, he hasn’t hinted at you giving him oral in any way. How strange. Aren’t men supposed to be obsessed with it or something? It makes you wonder if he thinks you’re incapable of satisfying him since you’ve never done it before. This sends you into a spiral of overthinking.
While this turmoil brews inside your head, Michael, who’s been lying next to you on your shared bed, notices your furrowed brows. Instantly, he pulls you closer to him, your head on his chest and his hands gently caressing your back. Softly, he presses a kiss to the top of your head and whispers, “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”
Feeling heat rise in your face, you contemplate how to tell him. As soothing as his hands are, they do little to calm your nervousness. You open and close your mouth multiple times before sighing and saying it bluntly, “You’re always doing all the work in bed and... and it makes me feel like I’m not doing enough to please you too.” You close your eyes and focus on the low sound of the TV instead of the silence coming from him.
Michael’s hand pauses for a moment before he shifts, gently tilting your chin up so you’re looking into his eyes. His gaze is soft, filled with understanding. “Oh, baby,” he says, his voice tender. “I love making you feel good. That’s how it’s supposed to be, I wasn’t playing around when I promised to take care of you always.” he smiles and adjusts his body, ready to continue watching the television but you’re not gonna let this go so easily.
“But…” you start, feeling a lump form in your throat, “I want to make you feel good too. I feel like I’m not contributing enough.”
Michael smiles softly. “Sweetheart, you do, seeing your pleasure, feeling your body respond to me—that’s everything. You don’t need to worry about doing anything more.”
“Yeah, but other couples—” you start to argue, but he cuts you off.
“I don’t care what other couples do,” he says, his tone firm but still gentle. “You’re too precious to me. What kind of man would I be if I made you get on your knees for me, hm?”
“But I want to learn how to do it. Teach me,” you say, while looking at him earnestly.
“Another time,” he replies, turning his head back towards the TV.
“What? No, Michael!” You knit your brows together, determined to gain his attention back. You whine and beg, slightly shaking him, trying to get a reaction.
“Please, please, please!” You dramatically clutch his shirt. A minuscule smile crosses his face before he turns up the volume, drowning out your adorable pouts and begs.
“Uh, how dare you? You’re silencing women!” you say, making him laugh genuinely, his lively chuckles ringing through the room. You take advantage, quickly grabbing the remote and turning the television off.
“Please, Michael,” you plead, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. He rolls his eyes playfully, looking at you for a few seconds, wanting to see if you’ll falter. But no, you seem very sure about this.
He caves. “Alright, fine, but just know that this won’t be a frequent activity for you.”
Smiling triumphantly, you start to get off the bed. He stops you with a gentle hand. “Stay on the bed. I don’t want your knees to bruise.” You blush and lay on your stomach comfortably, watching as he stands at the edge of the bed right in front of you.
Michael's eyes darken with a mix of desire and tenderness as he looks down at you. “You’re sure about this?” he asks, his voice low and husky.
You nod eagerly, your eyes sparkling with determination. “Mhm.”
He shakes his head as he sees you impatiently staring at his crotch. “Alright, baby. I’ll guide you through it.”
Michael stands at the edge of the bed, his presence commanding from this angle. Your eyes are fixed on him, anticipation and hunger mixing in your gaze. He begins to undress, his movements slow and deliberate. When his trousers finally drop to the floor, your breath catches at the sight of his girthy, long cock. He’s even more impressive up close, his thick shaft swaying with his every move, begging for attention.
The sheer size of him makes you salivate, but also brings you back to earth, making you nervous about how you're going to manage to fit him into your mouth. Michael notices the flicker of anxiety in your eyes and gives you a reassuring smile, though his teasing nature shines through as he begins to stroke himself lazily.
His hand moves up and down his shaft with a deliberate slowness, knowing full well how it's driving you crazy. You can already feel the wetness pooling in your panties as you watch him, your body reacting to the sight of him pleasuring himself. He pulls back the foreskin that was covering half of his swollen tip, revealing more of the glistening precum that has gathered there.
Michael steps closer, his cock just inches from your face. He swipes a finger through the precum and looks at you with a playful glint in his eye. "Open your mouth," he instructs, his voice low and commanding.
You obey, your tongue sticking out as you wait, your body trembling with anticipation. He places his finger on your tongue. “Suck,” he says seductively. You do so shyly at first, your tongue swirling around his finger as the taste of him makes you whimper, your eyes flutter shut in pleasure.
He watches you intently, smirking as he sees how lost in it you are. After a moment, he reluctantly slides his finger out of your wet mouth, which is immediately followed by a whine from you, already missing his taste.
"I've got something better for you to suck on," he teases, his words making your cheeks heat up. You look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest.
"First, however, I want you to wrap your hand around it," he says gently. Seeing the slight apprehension in your eyes he gives you a soft smile of approval. You tentatively reach out, your hand wrapping around his thick shaft. You marvel at how warm and heavy it is in your hand, the veins pulsing against your soft palm.
“It’s heavy.” You blurt out of of nervousness and as soon as you do you slap yourself mentally.
He chuckles heartily, “It’s all for you.”
Michael's large hand wraps around yours, guiding you as you stroke his meaty cock. "Just like this," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. You feel him swell in your hand, his cock growing fully hard. His guidance helps you feel less nervous, his hand moving yours in a steady rhythm. But then he pulls away, leaving you to stroke him on your own.
You glance up at him, a little panicked, your movements becoming clumsy without his steadying hand. He coos softly, reassuring you, "It's alright sweet girl, you're doing well, go on."
His words bolster your confidence, and you continue to fist his lengthy cock. With each stroke, more precum leaks from his bulbous glistening tip. You so badly want to lick it, but you know you need to be patient. Thus you suppress those needs by rubbing your thighs together, the slight friction making this much more bearable.
"A little faster," he instructs, his voice a gentle command. You nod obediently and pick up your pace. The weight of his heavy cock makes your arm burn, but you push through, mesmerized by the way his foreskin slides over his swollen tip with every motion.
Feeling emboldened by his groans, you give his cock a gentle squeeze. He curses under his breath and smirks, praising you, "Look at you, baby. Didn't even have to tell you to do that."
“So good at this,” he murmurs and throws his head back, “knew you would be.”
You smile shyly, continuing your ministrations. Your hand starts to spasm from the effort, him being the attentive lover that he is, he slows you down, taking your hand off his shaft. Realising what's coming next, you lick your lips in anticipation, your thighs pressing even closer together.
He starts you off slowly, his voice gentle. "Give it a little kiss," he says, his eyes dark with desire. You lean in and softly press your lips against his glossy tip, pulling away you’re left with the remnants of his arousal shining on your lips.
"A few more."
You kiss around his tip, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin. The warmth emanating from him makes your pussy drool. Unable to resist, you give it a hesitant lick. He groans, a deep sound that sends shivers down your spine. "Someone's getting bold," he teases.
You pull away and turn your head to the side bashfully, reaching out, he cups your face gently. "Oh baby, it's alright. Here, open your little mouth."
You part your lips, your heart racing. He holds his cock, guiding his swollen tip to your mouth. Your tongue flicks out, licking the tip of his cock. You sigh at the delicious taste of him, savoring every drop of precum that oozes out. The salty-sweetness leaves you craving more, and you press your tongue against the slit, coaxing more of that deliciousness to the surface. He winces slightly from the sensitivity but lets you continue, his hand resting gently on the back of your head.
Your eyes flutter shut as you lick his tip, lost in the pleasure of tasting him whilst stimulating your clit at the same time. Suddenly, you feel him softly patting his bulbous head against your tongue, drawing you out of your reverie. You open your eyes, clouded by lust, and part your lips wider, tentatively taking him into your mouth. Your lips stretch around him, feeling the warmth and the firmness.
With just the tip in your mouth, you already feel your throat contracting, and breathing becoming much more laborious. He tenderly soothes you, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Shh, youre okay. Try to breathe through your nose…relax."
You nod slightly, focusing on his smooth voice. As you follow his words you feel the pressure disappear and breathing become easier. Curiously, you slowly begin to suck on his tip, the wet noises making you feel a little embarrassed. Michael watches you intently, ensuring you're not straining yourself too hard. He lets you explore at your own pace, his desire for your pleasure evident in his eyes.
You look up at him, your eyes wide and innocent. You whimper around his cock at the sight of his head thrown back, silent pants escaping his lips. You bob your head back and forth, his tip already stretching your mouth full. He shudders, the evident inexperience driving him wild. Without thinking, you try to take more of him in, struggling as his girth overwhelms you.
Michael immediately snaps back to attention, pulling you off him firmly. "Just the tip, sweetheart," he scolds, his tone stern. "Don't ever try to take more, don't want you to choke."
You pout, protesting, "But I want to-."
He cuts you off, shaking his head. "No buts. You can barely take the tip. I don't want you to hurt yourself."
Rolling your eyes, you take just the tip back into your mouth and continue to suckle. The taste and feel of him make you crave more, but you obey his instruction. Michael watches you closely, trying his hardest not to buck his hips and fuck your sweet mouth. He reminds himself that it's too early for that, and he wants to take care of you.
“Take your time, I wanna savour this.” He looks down at you with lustful eyes. He never thought seeing you pleasuring him would turn him on so much.
Just as you start to feel more confident, your teeth accidentally graze his sensitive skin. Your eyes widen in shock, and you try to pull away to apologize, but he holds the back of your head steady, keeping you in place.
"Do it again," he commands softly, his voice a mix of pain and pleasure.
Uncertainly, you press your teeth against his skin and give him the softest bite you can. As soon as you do, he moans, his cock twitching in your mouth. You raise your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting him to be into something like this. If his fat cock wasn't stuffing your mouth, you'd definitely be giggling.
Encouraged by his reaction, you continue sucking, occasionally using your teeth to gently graze his skin. Each time you do, he moans louder, his hips twitching involuntarily. The knowledge that you're driving him crazy fills you with a heady sense of power. You lose yourself in the act, your own arousal building with each moan and groan that escapes his lips.
Michael's hand unconsciously tightens in your hair, guiding your movements as you suckle and nibble on his cock. "Such a fast learner," he praises, his voice thick with desire.
You hum around him appreciatively, the vibrations making him groan. Your lips stretch around his shaft as you suck eagerly, lost in the sensation and taste of him. Internally, you scowl at the reminder that he won't let you do this very often. He's so protective, always concerned about your comfort and safety. But you want to please him, to show him how much you crave this.
Unbeknownst to him, you keep rubbing your thighs together, adding more pressure to your throbbing clit. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, making you more desperate for release.
Michael's pants grow heavier, and he warns, "I'm close." You can see the wheels turning in his head, debating whether or not he should pull out. Before he can make a decision, you grab onto his thigh, your eyes pleading with him not to.
His gaze softens, and he nods, letting you have what you want. "Alright, baby. You can have it."
Determined to make him proud, you wrap your hand around his stiff cock, trying to stroke it in time with your sucking. He chuckles through his breathy moans, saying, "You're so eager to please."
He pulls your hand off, not wanting you to put in more effort than you're already putting in, and starts fisting his cock on his own. Although your jaw begins to ache, you fasten your pace, needily bobbing your head up and down. You watch his gorgeous face, his hair sticking to his forehead, as he tries to keep his eyes open to look at you. As he nears his orgasm, he can't help but gently buck his hips, the pulsing head hitting the back of your throat deliciously.
Your eyes flutter as you let him take control. Your body shakes as your weeping clit begs for release as well. "I'm coming," he manages to say, his voice strained with pleasure.
You feel the hot ropes of his creamy load filling your mouth. You moan around his cock at the taste, eagerly swallowing every drop. He keeps flooding your mouth, the sheer volume shocking you. The sensation drives you over the edge. As you rub your thighs harder together, hitting that sweet little spot you feel your orgasm wash over you in tides. Your hands clutch the sheets for support as you shake slightly, which makes his thick milky cum spill from the corners of your mouth and down your chin.
You do your best to swallow it all while riding out your own high. When he finally pulls out, you look spent—eyes half-lidded, breathing heavily, the bottom half of your face wet with his sticky cum. You look absolutely beautiful.
Michael gazes at you with a mixture of awe and tenderness. "You did so well for your first time," he praises, though his words go in one ear and out the other as you catch your breath. You turn over and lay on your back, staring at the ceiling. He cups your face, gently cleaning off his seed off your mouth. "Hey, sweet girl?" he asks, a hint of worry in his voice. "Was it too much?"
You shake your head but don't say a word, still lost in the lingering pleasure. He notices how tightly shut your thighs are and raises an eyebrow in curiosity. He parts them slowly, watching how they tremble.
He shakes his head, realization dawning on him. "Oh, you naughty girl," he murmurs, slipping his warm hand under your panties and feeling the slickness between your folds. "Didn't expect you to cum from just sucking my cock."
You hide your face bashfully while he slides his fingers through your wetness and feels your clit still pulsing with need under his fingertips. "Let me properly take care of that for you." He slips your panties off, exposing your slick, puffy pussy. His fingers gently part your folds, feeling how slippery and sensitive you are.
Michael's touch is gentle but confident as he explores your cunt. "I’m so proud of you," he whispers, his fingers circling your clit at a teasingly slow pace. You whimper, your hips bucking against his hand.
"Please," you beg, your voice trembling with need. "More."
Michael obliges, how can he not when his precious girl did such a good job pleasing him. He slips two of his long finger into your entrance and pumps them in and out of you. His thumb moves to circle your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moan loudly, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. The sensitivity from the last release helping push you over the edge once more.
"That's it, baby," he murmurs, kissing your temple, his voice low and husky. "Cum for me again." You feel the tension building in your core. Your breathing becomes ragged, your body trembling with anticipation. With a final thrust of his fingers, you cum hard, your body shaking with the intensity.
Michael watches you with a satisfied smile, his fingers still moving inside you, prolonging your pleasure. "You're so beautiful when you cum," he says softly, his thumb brushing against your clit with less fervour.
You ride out your orgasm, your body finally relaxing as the waves of ecstasy subside. Michael slowly withdraws his fingers from your quivering hole and brings them to his lips, licking them clean. He leans down, kissing you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. You can taste yourself on his lips just as much as he can taste himself on yours.The mix of your essenes making you moan softly into the kiss.
When he pulls back, he looks into your eyes, his expression tender. You snuggle into his embrace as he lifts you and walks towards the bathroom for a much deserved bubble bath.
© michaelsfavgirl 2024
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"𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙆 𝙄 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝙊𝙇𝘿𝙀𝙍"
Pairing: Michael Gavey x Professor! Male! Reader
Warning: NSFW topics! college student x college professor, age gap (reader is older then Michael), Submissive! Bottom! Michael, slight public setting (classroom sex and office sex), daddy kink, this is bad😭
"𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝘼 𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝘽𝙄𝙏 𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘿𝙀𝙍, 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙒𝙀𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 𝙊𝙁𝙁 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙇𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙎, 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙆 𝙄 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝙊𝙇𝘿𝙀𝙍"
You've been a professor at Oxford for a while now, a few years, but there was one student that stood out the most, Michael Gavey, a smart person he was, and the one who would pass your classes with flying colors, you would often see him study quite hard for your classes, he was probably the only one who does it, he was really dedicated to your class... you never knew why... that is till one day Michael visited your office, saying he had a "problem", you could feel that there was something off about him, they way he was staring at you... the way his thighs rubbed together as he sat in the chair in front of your desk, the way his face would turn red as you hold eye contact with him
You could see Michael getting impatient, that confused you, you were telling him what he wanted to hear, answering his questions correctly, why was he getting impatient? That is till you saw him furrow his brows at you, standing up from the chair and walking over to yours, pushing you a bit away from your desk before planting himself on your lap, before you could say a word, he shut you up with smashing his lips against yours, you couldn't lie with yourself... Michael was an attractive man... even if he was your student, so you hesitantly kissed back, your hands holding his waist, after a while of kissing Michael pulled away "I want you to fuck me... please" He whispered, you gulped, before expressing your concerns, saying that the both of you should probably not do this, and probably not in your office, Michael frown "Please, I finger myself thinking about you, I fucking stroke my own cock thinking about you, just... fuck me... don't you want me... daddy?~" Michael murmured, he could see you pause when he called you daddy, you never knew being called something like that would sound so... hot...
The next thing you know is Michael being bent over your desk, his pants by his knees as your cock roughly bullies his hole, your hand covering his mouth as you fucked him from behind, Michael's eyes would roll back almost each time your cock hit his most sensitive spot inside of him, his hands gripping at the table to steady himself from the rough pounding. It felt so good inside of him, you could barely control yourself, but it did seem like Michael was enjoying himself, quite a lot... it wasn't long before you felt his walls clench down on your cock tightly, hearing Michael let out a long loud moan against your hand, his eyes rolling back into his head, the feeling of his hole clenching down onto your cock made you cum almost instantly, pushing your cock to the hilt inside of him as you climax, filling him up, after a bit, you removed your hand from his mouth, you could hear him let out a chuckle "See...? Wasn't that just... fun?~" He asked as he looked over his shoulder and at you, a sly smile on his face as he pushed his glasses higher up his nose
"𝘽𝘼𝘽𝙔, 𝘼𝙈 𝙄 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝙎𝙀𝘾𝙍𝙀𝙏? 𝙄𝙈 𝙊𝙇𝘿 𝙀𝙉𝙊𝙐𝙂𝙃 𝙏𝙊 𝙆𝙀𝙀𝙋 𝙄𝙏"
You were busy grading tests by your desk in the classroom, pretty ordinary on the outside... oh but it wasn't... After you got done grading the last test, you leaned back into your chair... letting out a groan before pushing Michael's head down, making him take your cock deeper into his mouth, your cock hitting the back of his throat, making him gag slightly, his tongue running up the underside of your length, making sure to trace each vein on it, after your hand leaves his head, he pulled back up, your cock leaving his mouth before his lips wrapped around the tip of your cock, sucking gently on it as his hands strokes you off, he smiled at the way you groaned, he could see you were trying not too, you weren't trying to get people to actually walk into the classroom and see the both of you like this. You could feel Michael's tongue tease the tip of your cock as he sucked on it, before you felt his hand leave your cock, his mouth taking your cock deeper into it, almost deepthroating you, Michael began to Bob his head up and down, the sound of his sucking and gagging echoing in the empty classroom
He could feel your cock throbbing in his mouth, it made him suck you off faster, eager to taste you, he leaned down more, taking your cock to the hilt, gagging and moaning around it, sending pleasure through your body, when he felt your cock throb, he quickly pulled away, stroking your cock in a fast pace before smiling when he felt your hot cum squirt onto his face, opening his mouth to catch some of it into his mouth, when you came down from your high, "You got cum on my glasses.." He said, a fake frown on his face, making you chuckle, before taking his glasses of his face, cleaning it yourself before putting it on his face again, he smiled "Thank you daddy~" He murmured, giving the head of your cock a kiss.
"𝙄 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙄𝙈 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙉 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝘽𝙐𝙏 𝙄'𝙑𝙀 𝘼𝙇𝙒𝘼𝙔𝙎 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝘼 𝙈𝘼𝙉 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙍, 𝘼𝙂𝙀 𝙄𝙎 𝘼 𝙉𝙐𝙈𝘽𝙀𝙍, 𝙈𝙔 𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍, 𝙄 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙔𝙊𝙐'𝙇𝙇 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙉𝘿"
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#bot creator#male reader#x male reader#seme male reader#dom male reader#top male reader#michael gavey#saltburn#saltburn michael gavey#michael gavey saltburn#michael gavey smut#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey x you#michael gavey x male reader
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Pixie Dust and Dates - Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Trying to get over your crush on your boss Eddie, you’re going on a date after you finish babysitting tonight. So, why do things seem to get tense between the two of you when he finds out?
Note: Needed a little jealous Eddie in my life. This takes place before part one so I guess it’s a bit of prequel. I hope you enjoy! 🩵
Warnings: older!eddie, babysitter!reader
Words: 2.8k
[As You Wish masterlist]
“Luke, are you not going to let me leave?”
The little boy hangs onto your waist, his little feet on each of yours. A devious giggle leaves his lips as he buries his face into your stomach.
“Never!” the little boy cries. “You’re my prisoner!”
“Oh no!” you feign gasp. “Whatever shall I do?”
Ryan jumps up on the couch and does his best superhero pose with his hands on his hips. “I’ll save you!”
“No, she’s stuck with me forever!” Luke says, tightening his hold on you. It’s sweet, but he’s also getting pretty heavy on your feet.
“She’s got school, ya know,” Ryan says as he jumps down from the couch.
“She can come to school with me,” Luke reasons.
Ryan rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Can you believe this guy? you can practically hear him say.
“She’s in college, Luke. She could teach your kindergarten class.”
“All right, you two, that’s enough squabbling.”
“But do you have school?” Luke asks, looking up at you.
“It’s Friday,” you say, poking the tip of his nose with your pinky. “It’s just like you, I don’t have to go until Monday. But I do have plans for tonight and tomorrow. So you can’t hold me prisoner forever!”
“Whatcha doin’ tonight?” Luke asks, grip loosening on you only slightly.
“Well,” you say as you feel your face getting warm. There’s no harm in telling them the truth, right? It’s nothing bad and you don’t want to lie to them. So, why is there a sinking feeling in your stomach about the Munson’s knowing you’re going on a date? Just because you’re head over heels for your boss doesn’t mean you’re cheating on him by going on a date. But that’s what it feels like for some reason. All of your emotions are so consumed by one man who is married and has beautiful children and now it’s so bad you feel guilty over going on a date with a guy from your history class. The boys are still looking at you expectantly as your mind wanders off. “Oh, um, I’ve got a date.”
“A date?” Ryan asks with the most adorable grin.
“Yes, a date,” you reply, face getting hotter by the second.
“Oooooh!” Luke coos, smirking up at you and looking identical to his father. His wonderful, beautiful father. “Where ya going?”
“Dinner and a movie.”
“What’s his name?” Ryan asks.
“Peter.”
Luke gasps and gives your aching feet some relief as he jumps off of you. “Like Peter Pan?”
“Or Peter Parker,” you say.
“Who?” Luke asks, scrunching up his nose.
“Spider-Man!” Ryan informs his little brother.
Luke shrugs, not caring about the web-slinging superhero. “Peter Pan is better.”
Ryan gasps and begins to excitedly jump up and down in front of you. “Ooh! Ooh! Can we play Peter Pan?”
“How do we play that?” you ask.
“I mean like, play pretend,” Ryan explains. “I can be John, Luke is Michael, and you’re Wendy!”
“Who’s Peter then?” Luke asks with a huff, obviously wanting to be the main character.
“Daddy,” Ryan says, turning to him. “When he gets home and comes in the door it’ll be like when Peter comes in the window!”
Luke crosses his arms over his tiny chest, not sold on the idea. “Who’s Mom? Tinker Bell? They got the same hair color.”
“Mom is Captain Hook.” Ryan answers so quickly and with such conviction that it’s a struggle for you to hold in a bark of laughter. The kid is right, their mom is definitely the one most suited to play a villain. “She’s Hook because when she comes home, she’ll make us stop playing the game. The bad guy!” The words break your heart. You’re not sure which is worse: the fact that the words are true or the fact that Ryan has learned how cold and uncaring his mother is at such a young age.
The younger Munson brother looks more convinced of the game now, his arms dropping to his sides and his shoulders relaxing.
“Where’s Tinker Bell? And Nana?” Luke asks, apparently looking for plot holes in his big brother’s imaginary scenario.
“Well,” you say, “Tinker Bell is a pixie. So she’s so tiny that it’s hard to see her. She could be anywhere!”
Mollified by that answer, Luke nods his head. “And Nana?”
“Nana didn’t go to Wonderland,” you say.
“Neverland!” Ryan corrects, his face full of offense at the fact that you would mix those two up.
“Right, right, Neverland, sorry. Second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning!”
Ryan looks around the room and gasps, pointing to a spot about three feet above your head. “There’s Tinker Bell! We need some pixie dust so we can fly!”
You stand on your tippy toes, game to play along, and reach your arm up as far as it can go. Concentrating, as if you’re almost reaching something, you close your fist over the empty air and stand back down on flat feet.
“I got her!” you say. “Come here and I’ll sprinkle the dust on you!”
Luke hops over and stands underneath your cupped hands. You pretend to sprinkle some pixie magic on him before doing the same to Ryan. The older boy holds his arms out to the sides like an airplane and runs around to the other side of the couch.
“We can fly!” he shouts. “Come on, Michael, Wendy!”
“We’re coming,” you tell him, ushering Luke to go in front of you. The three of you run around the house with your arms out, pretending to be soaring through the sky on your way to the mystical home of Peter Pan.
Ryan stops for a moment and purses his lips. He looks deep in thought before he bolts down the hallway and into his room. There’s a handful of action figures in his arms when he re-emerges. It’s an assorted bunch containing The Hulk, a Ghostbuster, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, and a GI Joe. You’re even more curious as to what he’s doing when he walks into the bathroom with them.
“Uh, Ryan?” you ask, heading down the hall towards him.
“It’s John,” he reminds you.
“Right, John. What are you doing, John?”
Ryan sets his action fingers up so they’re sitting on the rim of the bathtub.
“It’s Mermaid Lagoon!” he announces proudly.
“They’re boys,” Luke says.
“Mermen are a thing,” you say, ruffling his curls.
“Okay, where’s Skull Rock?” Luke asks. Ryan thinks for a moment before darting out of the bathroom and down the hall again. Luke chases after him but you take your time with a leisurely walk.
“It’s here! But it shrunk!” Ryan pretends to be baffled as he picks up a chunky silver skull ring of Eddie’s. It was sitting in a bowl that was on the table near the front door. Your only guess is that on days where his hands weren’t covered in dirt and grime, he had the rings in the perfect position to slip them on when he walked through the door.
“Maybe Tinker Bell shrunk it with her magic! Revenge for when Hook tried to kill Peter!” Luke adds.
If your logic is right—which you know it isn’t in this case of make believe—Ryan and Luke are talking in terms of the events of the Peter Pan movie already happening. Which means Hook would’ve been eaten (or maybe just chased) by the crocodile. The mental image of a cartoon crocodile chasing Brittany down the street is enough to make you giggle out loud.
“Wha’s so funny?” Luke asks, turning to you.
“Hmm?” you ask as you shake the fantasy from your head. “Oh. Just, um… Well, look!” you point up at the ceiling and drag your finger around as if you’re following something that’s moving. “It’s Peter’s shadow! It looks like he lost it again!”
“We have to get it for him!” Luke says.
“How do we do that?” Ryan asks, putting the ring back in the bowl.
“I think only Peter can catch it,” you say with a sigh.
“But you can sew it back on him again, right Wendy?” Ryan slash John asks.
“I will certainly do my best,” you tell him.
The front door opens and Luke races over. Eddie is prepared for the ambush and hoists his youngest son up over his shoulder.
“Hey, munchkin,” Eddie says.
“Hi, Peter.”
A confused frown grows on Eddie’s face, and he maneuvers the little boy so he’s holding him out in front of him and can look him in the eye. Luke giggles as he dangles from his father’s grip.
“Whatcha call me?” Eddie asks.
“Peter! You’re Peter Pan!”
Eddie cocks an eyebrow and looks over at you. “Is this some joke about me never growing up?”
You giggle and shake your head. “No, we’re playing pretend. You were unanimously elected to be Peter.”
“Uh huh,” Eddie muses and settles Luke on his hip, even though he really is too old to be held like that. “So, who are you, little dude? The dog?”
Luke huffs and rolls his eyes overdramatically. The apple clearly did not fall far from the tree. “I’m Michael.”
“And we’re John and Wendy!” Ryan tells him, proudly taking your hand in his.
“Well, why aren’t you flying then?” Eddie asks. Before either boy can ask him what he means, he lifts Luke over his head as the five-year-old giggles and holds his hands out in front of him. Eddie brings him over to the couch where he plops the boy down on the couch. Luke instantly scrambles up and tries to jump on his dad’s back. Eddie lets him and holds his son’s small legs as he wraps them around his waist.
“How ya doing, Wendy?” Eddie asks as he walks past you into the kitchen. “These lost boys aren’t driving you too crazy, huh?”
“Never,” you say, trying desperately not to ogle your boss. You clear your throat and rest your hands on Ryan’s shoulders, jostling him gently. “They make my days fun. How was work?”
“Eh, loud and greasy,” Eddie replies, pulling a beer out of the fridge. “Glad to be home.”
The smile he gives you has your knees feeling weak. Mentally, you berate yourself. This is exactly why you’re going on a date tonight. Peter is a nice enough guy but doesn’t really do anything for you. But when he asked if you’d like to get dinner as the two of you were leaving your shared history class, you agreed. The way you feel about Eddie quickly evolved from just thinking he was attractive as soon as you got to know him. His kindness, humor, gentleness, and wit quickly had you falling down the slippery slope of feelings. Hopefully, Peter could catch you with his own charm before you fell even further down the rabbit hole for Eddie.
“You gotta catch your shadow!” Luke’s words break you out of your small daze. The little boy is bouncing in his dad’s grip, gesturing towards the tall shadow on the kitchen floor. “Wendy has to sew it back on for you! Then you kiss!”
Both you and Eddie blanch at the five-year-old’s statement.
“Huh?” Eddie manages.
“After Wendy sews Peter’s shadow back on, she tries to kiss him!” Luke clarifies.
Dear God, I wish, you think.
Eddie chuckles and shakes his head, avoiding your eyes. He opens his mouth and you’re almost afraid of what he’s going to say. Luke beats him to the punch though, annoyed that the game has stalled.
“Daddy! Shadow!”
“Hurry, before she has to go!” Ryan adds.
“Yeah! She’ll be late! Late, for a very important date!” Luke laughs against his dad’s neck, finding it hilarious that he was able to quote another Disney movie.
“Date?” Eddie lets the refrigerator door slip from his grip, and it slowly slides closed. You think you’re imagining his hand tightening around his beer bottle but can’t help but hope that your boss doesn’t like the idea of you going out with someone.
“Uh, yeah,” you say, suddenly feeling nervous. That is ridiculous, you tell yourself. Eddie has never made you feel nervous–okay, that’s a lie. But a good, giddy kind of nervous.
“A boy from school?” Eddie asks, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a sip.
“Yep. From my history class.”
“He’s taking her to dinner and a movie,” Luke informs his father. Eddie’s head turns over his shoulder to look at his son, as if he’d just remembered he was there.
“Oh. T-That’s nice.” Eddie’s words have an edge to them, despite how casual he tries to make them sound. Luke releases his grip from his dad’s neck as Eddie crouches down to let the little boy down. He scampers out of the room, officially bored now, and Ryan looks between you and Eddie once before following behind his little brother.
“You, um,” Eddie says as he leans against the counter behind him, setting the bottle down. “You have to get going now? Get ready?”
Truthfully, you do. But leaving Eddie is always easier said than done.
“I guess I should,” you say with a shrug. As you move to leave the kitchen, Eddie steps forward and extends his arm as if he’s going to grab your arm but thinks better of it. Awkwardly, he shoves his hands in the pockets of his coveralls and clears his throat when you turn back to him.
“If, uh, you need anything…like, if he’s an asshole and you want to bail or um, anything else,” Eddie says, looking at you from underneath his impossibly long eyelashes, “just give me a call. I’ll come get you. Whenever and wherever.”
The offer has your heart swimming in your chest. Even if he doesn’t have feelings for you, Eddie definitely does care. Being so kind and thoughtful are two of the reasons you were already so crazy about the man, so this offer is doing nothing to dampen your feelings. It’s so touching though, that it gives you goosebumps.
“Thank you,” you say, giving him a small smile. “I really appreciate that.”
“Of course,” Eddie says before he clears his throat again. “As long as you’re safe.”
Unable to come up with anything else to say, you nod your head. A goodbye with Eddie has never felt this way before. Uncomfortable, yet you don’t want to escape it. How could you ever want to escape Eddie? You blame your own awkwardness and mentally scold yourself for projecting how you want Eddie to feel onto him.
“I’ll, uh, see you on Monday?” you finally ask.
“Yeah. Sounds good.” Eddie’s smile doesn’t meet his eyes, but neither does yours as you turn to walk out of the kitchen.
“Your homework better be done,” Brittany says as she thunks down a bowl full of microwaved macaroni and cheese. Eddie moves around her in the kitchen, his jaw squared and tense as he pulls the pork chops from the oven. Brittany and both boys keep glancing at him every time he slams something around on the counter.
“It is,” Ryan says of his homework as he takes his place at the dinner table.
“Luke?” Brittany basically snaps.
“Did it when I got home,” Luke says, reaching for the cheesy side dish. “Before we played Peter Pan.”
“Who did–oh, the babysitter?”
Luke frowns, not liking his mother’s tone or how she doesn’t refer to you by your name. Neither does Eddie, judging by the way he practically tosses the pork chops onto a platter.
“Yeah,” Luke answers his mother. “We played Peter Pan and then she had to go ‘cause she had a date.”
Eddie yanks his chair out from the table, the legs squealing against the floor at the ferocity with which he pulled it, so he can take a seat. He doles out a piece of pork to everyone’s plate, his knuckles white from holding the fork so tightly. Brittany just arches a recently-shaped eyebrow at her husband before returning to the conversation.
“A date, huh? Wow.” Her snark is clear, and Eddie has to bite his lip from barking out something he’ll regret.
“What’s wow?” Ryan asks as he jabs his fork into the mac and cheese on his plate.
“Oh, nothing,” Brittany says with a shake of her head. “Nothing at all.”
The table is quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from knives and forks working on the food. Ryan keeps sneaking peeks at his dad, wondering why he’s so unusually quiet. Normally, Eddie would be asking about their days at school and telling them about anything funny that happened at work today. His silence is making Ryan fidget in his seat. Brittany is the one to break the silence, though the three men silently wished she wasn’t.
“My sister is going to come over tomorrow. Eddie, did you hear me? Eddie?” Brittany glares daggers at her husband when he doesn’t answer, or even acknowledge her. But Eddie isn’t looking her way. Of course, this only irritates Brittany further.
“Eddie! Why in the hell are you staring at the phone like that?”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#older!eddie#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#AYW#AYWS
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i thought about it and decided i might as well become a tommy hater. seems like fun. these are MY personal petty reasons for hating him:
when Eddie showed up at Harbor he went "aw, this guy!" in a way that i found annoying
he didn't let Buck take Eddie to the hospital after he knocked him down at the pick-up game. idk. felt rude.
was condescending when he reassured Buck that Chris is obsessed with him (OBVIOUSLY). buck didn't care BUT I DID
abruptly left Buck in the middle of their date and then tried to claim he wasn't upset about Buck's dumbass behavior. when he was clearly at least a little ticked off about it. kinda disingenuous.
categorically decided Buck "wasn't ready" to date a man instead of just saying he didn't want to date someone who isn't out/doesn't have their sexuality figured out. disingenuous again. bad at communicating.
skipping ahead because i'm already tired of making this list. said "your dad's still alive" when Buck opened up to him about how Bobby is the father he never had. like ok thomas, thanks for the input????
said he didn't have daddy issues right after telling buck he had daddy issues. confusing and disingenuous!
honestly don't have anything else to put because im bored and just want to talk about buck and eddie some more
or veronica/taylor
or ravi
or henren and madney
or bobby and may
or bobby and michael!!!!!
oh wait one more. calls Buck "evan" which i just don't like!
thanks for coming to my ted talk 🩷
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