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#maybe michael is more missed but for other reasons
dudeitiskarev · 15 hours
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Maybe Someday | Ch. 1
A Spencer Reid mini series
Chapter summary: After seventeen years, you show up in Spencer’s life. Or rather, he comes and find you.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader
Rating: M
Tags/warnings: 4x7 spoilers; mentions of suicide; reader is a sex worker.
Word count: 1.7k
Author’s note: my beloved secret Spencer series is coming to light 🥹 she’s been mine for two years and I decided it was time to wrap it up and share it. This is the first chapter of 13 (+ and epilogue) and chapters are around 800 words to 3k so it should be an easy read! I hope you like this first part and I’d love to know what you think! Mwahhh
SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
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When a case unlocked memories in Spencer’s gifted brain, he expected everything to go as he suspected: so wrong.
It didn't quite go wrong. He got the answers he needed, but not the ones he truly wanted. He was wrong about everything, something he wasn’t used to.
The good thing was that his father wasn’t a murderer after all, and at least it was over.
Or almost over.
Thirteen minutes until midnight and the only reason Derek and Rossi agreed to drive Spencer to the darkest alley in Las Vegas was Garcia’s fault.
"Are you sure about this, Reid?” Morgan asked, turning on the SUV blinkers and glancing at Spencer through the rearview mirror.
“I really wish you’d stop asking me that.” Spencer unbuckled his seatbelt, ready to step out of the car.
Derek sounded like a broken record by now.
“Look, kid, we’re just trynna’ help.” He softened his voice. “Case is over. You can let it go now.”
The Riley Jenkins case was, in fact, over. Although letting it go was the last thing Spencer could do when last-minute Garcia filled him in about a person that wasn’t really involved in the case, but was connected to it to some extent: you.
“We don’t even know if she’s gonna be here,” Morgan continued. “She could be dead by now.”
“Yeah, and being here is the only way I could find out.”
Rossi had never seen Spencer like this, so he had to ask, “What’s with the sudden interest?"
"I don't know." Spencer lowered his tone.
All he knew was that there were more memories he needed to unlock, even if they led to something he would’ve been better off without knowing.
“Alright.” Derek raised his perfect brows in defeat. “We'll stay here. Call us if you need anything."
“And make it quick,” Rossi added. “Or else we’ll miss our flight.
"I will.” Spencer stepped out of the car, looked both ways, and jogged his way to the other side of the street—determined to find you.
According to Penelope’s recent discovery, you were related to the molester—Gary Michaels—and that fact was enough reason for Spencer to extend his stay for a few more hours. He just needed to know if you were okay. Alive.
“Look at that, neighbor,” Garcia had teased him during the phone call that morning. “She used to live five houses away from you.”
Images of a girl came to him as soon as Penelope said your name. You used to wear red shoes to school and… that’s all he knew. All he remembered.
He tried to dig up some more memories while his long steps took him to the street where he somehow knew he’d find you.
And he was right.
There you were, standing alone in a corner, pulling your jacket and purse close to your body. It was chilly, and your clothes barely covered any skin. You looked exactly how he thought you'd look after all these years—17 to be exact.
Same features, just… more grown.
Every word he knew flew away with the soft breeze of the night. You were alive, and he smiled to himself at the thought of you being more than a forgotten memory now.
He brushed his hair out of his forehead and hesitated whether to walk up to you and ask you how you’ve been or if he simply should be satisfied with knowing you were still skin and bones and let it all go.
He paced back and forth for a whole minute, thinking about the pros and cons of a still hypothetical conversation with you.
"It's $300 an hour, pretty boy." Your sweet voice blared around the empty street.
Spencer looked around to see who you were talking to. There was no one else.
It was so foreign to hear someone other than Morgan calling him a pretty boy. More so when you didn’t even turn around to actually think he was a pretty boy or not.
He slowly made it closer to you with both hands inside his pockets. "Uh, I don't—” Spencer cleared his voice once he was a few steps away. “I'm not looking for—"
"Then leave me alone.” You were quick to cut him off. “I'm working."
Oh.
He reached for his badge and flipped it open even when you hadn’t bothered to turn around. “I’m with the FBI, is it okay if I ask you a few questions?”
Your body froze for a moment but didn’t turn to give him a single glance.
“Look, I already talked to the cops. If this is about Trent and his stupid–”
“It’s about your uncle. Gary Michaels.” Spencer cut you off with the softest voice.
Your body stiffened, and after a moment, you finally turned to him, giving him your full attention. "What about him?"
Spencer gulped at the way you reacted—at the clearer sight of your face, too. Furrowed brows, clenched jaw, incredibly pretty, and the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen—he was sure his heart skipped a beat.
He swallowed thickly again before asking while wringing his hands. “How close were you two?”
“We weren’t. Why?”
“They found the remains of his body.”
Your only response was an audible breath that slipped through the twitch of a smile.
It was relief.
“Thanks for letting me know.” You nodded politely.
That smile seemed to be the end of the conversation but he didn’t want it to be over yet. “I heard about your brother, too,” he then blurted out.
You scoffed as if he’d told you the funniest joke. “Is that what you’re bringing up to keep the conversation going? My dead brother?”
Another brave step brought him face-to-face with you. “I heard that they found some letters from him.”
“Sorry?” You raised your brows as your eyes widened.
“Letters. Handwritten letters. They’re sti–”
“I don’t wanna know, alright?” You cut him off, lifting your palm and signaling him to stop talking. “I don’t need that. He made his decision years ago and I… I don’t need that.”
He said your name to get your attention once more, but every time he opened his mouth, he got closer and closer to setting off a grenade.
“What is this? Some interrogation?” You raised your tone. “Who even are you?”
"I'm Spencer Reid.”
Your face softened as soon as he said his name—like he’d pinned back in the grenade—enough reason for him just to keep talking.
“I’m pretty sure we were neighbors when we were kids,” he added.
You arranged your features to your already usual frown and stared as you said, “I remember you.”
You did?
“What do you want from me, Spencer?" You then added.
What did Spencer want? There wasn’t anything else to solve.
"How have you been?" He merely asked.
You forced a smile and looked away for a second. “Better now that I know Gary’s dead.” Then you turned to him again and stared again, this time with curious eyes. “How did he die? Exactly?” You tilted your head.
“He was beaten to death.” He raised his brows.
“Was that… recent?”
“No, it happened years ago.” He gulped for the eighth time before adding, “Let me ask you this, did he ever do anything to you? Or your brother?”
“I don’t see how that matters now.” You looked down.
“He’s dead, but he’s still under investigation. So we’re still gathering information about him.”
You hummed, shaking your head. “He barely even talked to me, thank god. He only liked boys. He really, really liked my brother.”
“I see.” Spencer narrowed his eyes.
Silence filled the space between you and him. It seemed as if memories were flashing right before your eyes.
“We lived with our grandma,” you began. “And when she heard about how his son was a child molester, she, uh, she killed herself. She couldn’t bear being responsible for such things,” You said, looking into the void.
And then you lost your brother in the same way.
Spencer’s chest tightened.
"What happened after?” He asked.
“No one wanted to look after us. We were troubled kids, so we ended up in an orphanage. Curtis was two years younger than me. He hung himself before turning sixteen. He’d been depressed since we were kids and I guess he couldn’t do it anymore. And I couldn’t keep living in the same place my brother died so one night I… just ran away.”
Spencer assumed you’ve been on your own ever since, and the tough shell you put out into the world was there to protect the little girl with red shoes.
“That’s all the information I have. I don’t know what else you need to know but you won’t find it with me.” You sighed. “So if you’re done, please leave. You’re scaring away my customers.”
A car passed slowly in front of you. By the look on the man’s face, he needed the service you provided and Spencer would stay next to you all night if it meant you’d be safe from those kinds of men.
There was something about you being all alone that didn’t feel right.
“I can help you get out,” he said.
You laughed. You really laughed then. You had a cute, contagious laugh. Spencer’s lips tugged at the corners into a small smile.
“You’re cute.” You wiped a fake tear off the corner of your eye. “I don’t know what makes you think I want to get out.”
“I can see it in your eyes.”
“Oh, really?” You stood right in front of him with a challenging stance. “What do you see in my eyes?”
Everything about you was intimidating—from your eyes to your voice, even the way you blinked—and yet he wasn’t phased by it, or he didn’t let it show, at least.
“That you don’t wanna be here. That your family failed you. And if you were given the chance, you’d leave this place.”
“My eyes tend to lie a lot.” You raised your brows, scanning his face up and down. “I’m a good liar.”
“I’m sure you are, but they’re not lying to me.”
You scoffed, breaking the staring contest. “Look, I appreciate whatever you’re trying to do here but it’s not working. Just leave me the hell alone, alright?”
He couldn’t fight you anymore, but that didn’t mean he was going to give up easily.
“Call me if you need anything, okay?” He reached for his wallet and took out a presentation card, handing it to you. “Anything at all.”
You stared at it for a moment before accepting it. He gave you a tight-lipped smile and took a few steps backward, waving goodbye.
Something about the way your hand shook when you took the card told him he had to miss the flight and stay for another night.
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I hope you liked this first chapter! I’d love to know what you think! Comments and feedback are much appreciated 😊
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Next chapter one-sentence teaser👀:
(…)
“Spencer?” Your soft sob woke up all of his senses. “I’m a good liar and I lied earlier. I do need… to get out.”
(…)
I’m planning on posting 2 to 3 chapters a week depending on the engagement it gets 🥰
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hungriestheidi · 14 days
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every so often i think about sebastian vettel going from the most hated driver -by the fans- to a driver who got such a massive goodbye, unseen to any other driver retirement in the modern era. the thousands of dedications from thousands of different media, the journalists speaking of his kindness, the mechanics talking about his dedication and his love to the sport, the teams talking about the end of the year gifts he'd made for all of them, without fault, otmar szafnauer and the bread seb made for him the first time they met. people like ruth buscombe who spoke about him in the highest terms (my f1 bradley cooper!), fernando alonso that was arguably the one with the most rights to feel wronged by seb (won everything in the years he was trying to win with ferrari) dedicated an entire helmet to him, pierre gasly, charles leclerc and carlos sainz spoke about him leaving such a mark in their personal careers even when they weren't in f1, pierre and the extremely long talk on the phone, carlos and his mark in milton keynes, charles and the letter for his simulator work in 2017, the shirts for their little track run in abu dhabi, the speeches and the memorabilia red bull and ferrari gave him, lewis hamilton refusing to accept he's leaving, talking about seb making him feel a little less lonely in f1, the way most fans keep bringing seb sings to suzuka and singapore, the excitement whenever he does the smallest thing that may indicate a return to f1. i think no other driver has been so loved in their farewell as seb was, i don't think any other driver will be as missed as he is.
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bugflies00 · 2 years
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just got hit with the urge to draw cbenchtrio in 2022
#crimeboys have always been dear to my heart but 2021 was All About benchtrio for me#and then that whole disaster of a plot point with cranboo dying out of nowhere & being stuck in limbo for longer than even cwilbur did#with no apparent end in sight and no reasoning no nothing#i havent moved on from 2021 i still want cbeeduo & michael to live happily in snowchester & hang out with ctommy every day#cbeeduo arguing and fixing their communication issues. cclingy finally talking abt shit. ctommy being the uncle he deserved to be to michael#im aware so much of their dynamic was created by the fandom and built off scraps from canon but i dont care they had so much potential#i want cranboo resurrection like the most cliché sickly sweet thing ever where he shows up like ‘Hi :D’ and ctubbo or ctommy hug tackles him#i want cranboo & cwilbur to have a follow up talk to the one they had in the burger van ab wil not being a bad person#i want cranboo & ctechno to have tea parties. i want cranboo to bake with cniki. i want crainduo to have a Real talk.#i want ctubbo to get better closure from ctechno. i want the syndicate to own up to what they did & start fixing things from there.#i want ctommy to set up a tailor shop. i want cpuffy expanding her office and adding flowers cniki brought her.#i want cbeeduo to cook in the mornings together. i want ctommy to sew a new coat for cwil and add little embroidery details to it.#maybe i just want them all to be happy.#maybe its less about cbenchtrio specifically and more about the slowly growing loneliness & hollowness of the server#fuck man i miss them all. i envy ctommy/ccrime solos bc while theyre my favourites forever and ever i still care abt the others#ccrime running away for a simple cottagecore life after all this would mean everythingto me-#—but if these other characters dont also get some kind of happy ending ill forever besad about it#alex.rambles.txt#c!benchtrio#mcyt
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michaelsfavgirl · 3 months
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good luck charm
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Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader
Synopsis: Michael is a meticulous performer, driven by the pursuit of perfection in every show. Thus, he has crafted the perfect routine to reach his goals and you're an integral part of it.
Tags: smut, masturbation, teasing, p in v, creampie, kinda switch!reader and switch!michael? idk.
Word Count: 4k
Requested: yes/no
Author’s Note: This took an unnecessarily long time to write, I put my whole heart and coochie into it, hope y'all like it :)
Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist
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Michael's stress level is through the roof. To say that he is frustrated is an understatement. From the moment he woke up today everything seems to be going wrong. 
The day began with an unwelcome interruption, Frank, his ever-demanding manager, barging into his hotel room at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. hastily telling him that he had to do an unplanned interview before rehearsals which made michael groan as he had to force himself to unwrap his arms around your warm body and miss the chance to kiss you good morning. The mere thought of leaving your side caused him to groan inwardly, a pang of longing tugging at his heartstrings.
As if that early morning disturbance wasn't enough, the interview itself proved to be a tedious ordeal, sucking away precious moments he could have spent with you. After the boring, repetitive interview just as he dared to hope for a swift return to you, hopefully still asleep with your head nuzzled into his side of the bed, fate had other plans. Dragged into an impromptu meeting, he received the delightful news that the equipment for the evening's show had yet to arrive from the previous state. A perfect storm of inconvenience, how lovely, exactly what he needed. 
The meeting dragged on interminably, leaving Michael gasping for a breath he couldn't seem to catch. Before he knew it, it was time for soundcheck, his every moment accounted for, no respite in sight. 
While he was warming up his voice and helping his dancers perfect the choreography,  you stirred from your slumber with a pout etched upon your features, your hand reaching out instinctively for Michael, only to find no trace of your beloved. Confusion mingled with disappointment as you groaned and finally opened your eyes, peering at the clock, its hands indicating that noon had long since passed.
Unbothered, you reached for the remote and flicked on the television. The first thing you saw was a news reporter talking about Michael’s upcoming concert. You smiled as a picture of Michael flashed on the screen, of your beautiful man which elicited a smile from you, a fleeting moment of joy amidst the mundane. But before you could get lost in your daydreams your body finally woke up from its sleepy state and reminded you of Michael’s promise from the night before.
You don’t know what’s gotten into you lately but your hunger for him has gotten insatiable, a primal desire that refuses to be ignored. Maybe you’re ovulating, or maybe it's the absence of his undivided attention, but at that moment, the reason scarcely mattered.
Your hands drew under the smooth, silky sheets, your fingers traced invisible patterns against your skin as your gaze remained fixated on the photograph displayed on the screen before you. With dreamy eyes, you lost yourself in the image, allowed your imagination to weave intricate fantasies. 
Impatience coursed through your veins, urging you to seek more tangible sensations. With a swift motion, you tugged up the hem of your nightgown, exposing the soft curves of your body to the cool air of the room. Your hands found their way to your tender breasts, cupping them with a delicate touch that sent shivers down your spine. you momentarily closed your eyes from the contact before opening them again and looking back at the image. 
God, he’s so pretty, your pretty boy.
As you gently rolled your nipples between your soft fingers you let out a quiet sigh, feeling some form of pleasure as your nipples hardened beneath your touch, responding eagerly to the stimulation. With each gentle roll between your fingers, waves of sensation rippled through you, igniting a primal fire within. Despite the tenderness of your actions, there was an underlying urgency, a hunger that refused to be quenched.
Your thoughts drift to him, to the man who occupies your every waking moment. He's so undeniably beautiful, a vision that fills your heart with longing and desire. But as much as you loved him, frustration bubbled to the surface. He's a tease, a master of seduction who knows exactly how to leave you breathless. 
He very well knew how much you needed him last night. you had been consumed by a relentless need, your body aching for his touch, your soul yearning for his embrace. Your desires were shamelessly pouring out of you. You had pawed at his chest, begged him to touch you. Yet, all you received were promises of tomorrow. Bastard. Where is he now hm?
Left you all alone with a slippery mess between your legs. You were so desperate you didn’t even register your legs spreading. Your fingers trailed lower, slipping past the curve of your stomach and venturing toward your needy center. With one hand still kneading your tits you let the other lightly dance over your soaked panties. You felt the heat of your poor neglected cunt with your fingertips. The undeniable wet patch on the fabric made your cheeks heat up. 
You circled your sensitive clit over your underwear and instantly bucked your hips from the contact, each movement sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. As you continued to move your fingers it became increasingly difficult to keep your eyes glued to the TV. The news anchor's voice was distant in your mind, drowned out by your determination to solemnly focus on Michael. 
In an attempt to replicate his touch, you hesitantly slid your trembling fingers beneath the elastic band of your panties. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you made contact with the slick between your legs. Gliding your finger between your puffy folds and succumbing to the overwhelming sensations, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed, surrendering yourself to the blissful ecstasy.
Feeling the heat building within you, your body started to emit too much warmth for your liking so you impatiently threw the sheets off of you and to the floor with a swift motion. Breathing out you readjusted yourself in a more comfortable position on the soft bedding. Breathing out you resumed your ministrations with renewed fervor, your fingers danced over your glistening pearl with increasing urgency, too frustrated to slowly build yourself to your climax.
As the intensity of pleasure mounted, you found solace in the plush pillows beneath you, your fingers dug into the fabric, trying to ease the gnawing emotions swirling inside you. Head thrown back, you whined as you felt your essence drip down your slit. Oh, how much you had wished that Michael would’ve been next to you. You yearned for his presence, craving the intimacy and connection only he could provide.
Your drooling walls kept squeezing around nothing, aching for the sensation of being filled and stretched by his cock, which made your eyes glossy, the previous pout returning to your face. Muffled sighs left your lips as you pressed the back of your hand against your mouth. Whispering his name, your voice trembling with need. 
All you wanted was for him to stuff your little hole with his cock, that’s not too much to ask for right? Frustration bubbled inside you as You stroked your nub faster. 
Your panties were drenched at that point, With each passing moment your arousal peaked, pulsing clit weeping for that sweet release. But just as you teetered on the brink of ecstasy, your hand spasming from the quick motions, the shrill ring of the phone shattered the erotic reverie, jolting you back to reality. Gasping at the unexpected sound you cursed the damn thing in your mind for taking you out of the arousing trance you had created. 
You tried to ignore it as much as you could but the persistent ringing hindered your concentration. Groaning you reluctantly reached over to the nightstand and begrudgingly answered the call.
"Hey, sweet girl," his voice flowed through the phone, instantly melting away your frustrations and causing you to sink deeper into the soft embrace of the sheets.
"Sorry I left, Frank dragged me out to do a few things before the show and then something else came up and I couldn't get back to you and…” His words trailed off momentarily as he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, baby, truly."
“It’s- it’s fine…you just promised me something yesterday,” you replied, your fingers idly twisting the cord of the phone as you spoke.
“Oh, did I?” You could practically hear the mischievous grin in his voice.
“Don’t do this to me right now, please just tell Bill to pick me up, I miss you,” you pleaded, not caring about the desperation and neediness evident in your tone.
And now, here you were, scrambling to make yourself presentable. You discarded your underwear and straightened out your skirt, hopping on one leg as you slipped into the other shoe. Hastily fixing your hair and grabbing your handbag, you rushed out of the luxurious hotel room.
Your skin still tingling with anticipation, you hurried to the waiting car, exchanging polite greetings with Bill before settling into the seat. Pulling up the partition, you finally exhale. You feel the slickness between your folds and squeezing your legs together as your sensitive cunt throbs with desire. Sealing your lips you try not to make too much noise.
The car ride feels never-ending as you have to restrain yourself from flipping up your skirt and circling your wet center. You clasp your hands tightly together and gaze out the window, hoping the passing scenery would distract your mind from the relentless ache pulsing through your body.
As the stadium loomed into view, you eagerly opened the car door, thanking Bill breathlessly before darting towards the entrance, eliciting a chuckle from him.
The familiar faces of the bodyguards greeted you as you hurried through the halls, your sole focus fixed on locating his dressing room. Lost in your determination, you collided with Karen, his makeup artist, the collision jolting you out of your single-minded pursuit and back to the present moment.
"Jesus Christ, I'm so sorry, Karen," you blurt out, suddenly realizing how frantic you must have appeared moments ago, rushing about in pursuit of your man.
"Oh, it's alright," Karen replies, adjusting her top with a casual shrug.
"Anyway, I-" Before you can utter another word, she interrupts you.
"Actually, I've been wanting to talk to you about something..." And off she goes, launching into a monologue about something that feels entirely inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.
You nod awkwardly and force a smile, though her words seem to flow in one ear and out the other. Desperately, you glance around, silently pleading for an escape from this conversation, but she appears entirely engrossed in her own narrative. Goodness gracious, can't she see that you're utterly disinterested? You've always had the lingering suspicion that she doesn't quite like you, but that's beside the point right now.
"Sorry, K, but I really gotta go," you interject hastily, sidestepping her as you make your way towards the dressing rooms, leaving her momentarily taken aback.
You are not going to let her cock block you today, no ma’am.
You navigate the corridor, scanning each door in search of the one bearing your beloved's name until, at last, you stumble upon it. Standing before the pristine white door, you take a moment to steady your breath, waiting for the frantic pounding of your heart to ease before you dare to step inside. With gentle knuckles, you tap on the door, the mere seconds that follow feeling like an eternity as you await Michael's response.
When the door swings open, revealing his soft smile on his gorgeous face, you can't help but practically fall into his embrace. Your arms wrap tightly around his torso, your face finding solace against his chest. He chuckles, not in the least startled by your sudden affection, and returns your hug, his arms enveloping you in warmth.
"Everything okay, angel?" he asks.
"...I need you. Want you so bad," you confess, your words muffled by the embrace as you bury your face further into his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent.
Your eyes drift around the room until they settle on the plush couch. Without waiting for his response, you push him towards the sofa, urging him to take a seat. As his knees buckle from hitting the couch he  settles onto the cushions, you make yourself comfortable on his lap and connect your lips hungrily.
With trembling hands, you hold his face, refusing to let him pull away as you press your body against  his. Momentarily taken aback, he quickly regains his composure, his hands finding their way to your waist, where they caress your heated body with a tenderness that only fuels your desire. 
As his hands trail lower, teasingly squeezing your hips, you break the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You lean lower and press your lips right below his jawline, where he’s the most sensitive. “Woah there, baby,” he murmurs, not entirely surprised by your eagerness but still taken aback by the transformation of his usually shy, innocent girl into an unabashedly greedy minx.
Uninterested in banter, you forgo any conversation, you leave a trail of sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all over his neck, wet tongue swirling over the freshly made hickeys.
Michael starts to feel the craving that has clouded your mind for hours and bucks his hips forward, making contact with your bare, soaked pussy. “Shit,” he moans, feeling your wetness dampening his trousers.
“No panties, hm? So naughty,” he teases.
If this was happening in any other circumstance you would’ve burned with embarrassment and hid your face behind your hands, but not now. Now, all you care about is sinking down on his lengthy cock and finally satiating your burning desire.
He massages your thighs as he inches his palms under your skirt causing your breath to catch in your throat. Taking advantage of this, he angles his head to your side and presses his plump lips against your slightly swollen ones. Hypnotized by his movements you lean in closer, letting him take over ,you relax into his arms, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt in your shaky hands.
“"Shh, it's okay, baby. Just relax and take what you need kay?” you coos at you with that sweet, soft voice of his that always makes you melt. 
With a meek nod, you comply, grinding your soaked core against his hardening shaft. He guides your head to rest against the crook of his neck, adjusting his position to press his cock firmer against your eager pussy. A whimper escapes your lips as you cling to his shoulder, your plush thighs receiving gentle caresses before his hands find their way to your ass, cupping your cheeks in a tender hold which elicits a soft sigh from your lips.
“Gonna be my good luck charm, yeah?” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.
A whispered "yes" escapes your lips as you roll your hips, your sensitive clit rubbing against the fabric of his trousers, leaving a telltale wet patch that he doesn’t seem to care too much about. He just wants his sweet girl to be satisfied and stuffed full with his cum before he takes the stage tonight.
As he kneads your ass in his big hands you feel your high creeping up on you. A flush of embarrassment warms your cheeks as you realize how quickly you're approaching climax. Michael notices your uneven breathing and firmly grasps your hips, halting your movements.
You whine from the lack of friction but he shushes you by taking off your top and loving up on your soft breasts, his lips lavish attention on your soft breasts, careful not to remove your bra in case someone interrupts. As he peppers your chest with kisses, you manage to unbutton his shirt completely, your shaky hands brushing against his toned torso, a silent plea for more.
Amidst the whirlwind of sensations and emotions swirling around you, you fail to notice the swift movement of his hands as he deftly unzips his trousers and tugs them down along with his boxers. Your gaze drifts downwards, and you whimper at the sight before you – his hard cock, weeping precum, a clear sign that he needs you just as much.
"Please," you beg breathlessly, not willing to waste a single moment longer.
Michael takes your smaller hand and gently guides it to the base of his shaft, where you struggle to fully wrap your fingers around its impressive girth. "Go on, take what you need," he urges.
Straightening your back and spreading your legs a little farther, you let your instincts take over as you feel the weight of his shaft in your hand. Slowly, you begin to stroke his cock, marveling at the way the hood pulls back to reveal his glistening tip. A guttural groan escapes his lips as he digs his fingers into the cushions of the couch to restrain himself from bucking his hips.
Drawing closer, you position his tip between your slick folds, a moan escaping your lips at the sensation of his hot cockhead against your swollen nub. With fluid movements, you glide it under your clit, your shared essences facilitating the smooth motion. Lost in the pleasure, you feel Michael's gaze on your face, his eyes drinking in every detail as his fingers tenderly caress your cheek, a chorus of praises spilling from his lips.
"Don't tease yourself, my love. I know you want more," his voice sends a shiver down your spine as you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come.
With a gentle shift, he adjusts your skirt higher on your waist, ensuring it doesn't get in the way as you steady yourself on his lap. Propping his cock at your glossy entrance, you slowly begin to push his thick shaft inside your velvety walls. A whine escapes your lips at the delicious stretch, your fingers gripping onto his shoulder tightly for support. 
Both of your breathing quickens as you inch lower and lower onto his big, meaty cock, the tightness of your walls resisting his intrusion even as your abundant slickness attempts to ease the way. Eyes shut tight, you revel in the sensation of being filled by him, the delicious stretch of your walls sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body until the back of your thighs come to rest on top of his.
You pant heavily, pressing your forehead against his, seeking solace in his comforting presence. "Just... just need a sec," you murmur, your voice laced with a mixture of desire and anticipation, as you allow your body to adjust to his size. With a grin, Michael reassures you to take your time, his lips pressing softly against your temple in a gesture of affection and understanding.
His grunts mingle with your moans as you squeeze around his fat cock, your body finally accustomed to its massive size. With newfound confidence, you begin to move back and forth, grinding your hips against his, each motion eliciting a wave of pleasure that courses through your body. Your little clit rubs against his coily pubic hair, sending sparks of ecstasy shooting through you as you throw your head back in abandon.
Growing bolder with each passing moment, you lift yourself slightly off his length and drop down again, relishing in the sensation of being stretched with his girthy cock. You repeat this motion a few times, gaining confidence with each descent, until you find yourself bouncing on his stiff shaft.
The room is filled with the lewd sounds of skin slapping together, punctuated by your pants and moans of pleasure. As you continue to ride his shaft, you force yourself to open your eyes and gaze upon your beautiful man. His curls frame his face in a wild halo, his mouth slightly open in pleasure. Unable to resist, you lean forward and press your lips against his once more, the kiss muffling the loud noises that fill the room.
His hands guide you up and down his huge cock, setting a rhythm that drives you both to new heights of pleasure. Your cunt releases more of your juices, coating his pulsing shaft and making your movements slick and easy. Some of your essence even drips down onto his heavy balls, adding to the intoxicating sensation of being completely consumed by him.
Meanwhile, his throbbing tip leaks more and more precum, creating a slippery surface that allows you to slide effortlessly on his length. The combined sensations of his cock stretching you to your limits and his skilled hands guiding your movements send waves of ecstasy crashing over you, threatening to consume you entirely.
Michael's hand leaves your heated skin and finds its way to your lips. Without hesitation, you open your mouth and gently suck on his thumb, lost in the pleasure of the moment. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the rhythm of your bodies moving together in perfect harmony.
Eventually, he gently coaxes his hand away from your lips and brings it down to where you're connected. His wet thumb finds your puffy pearl, rubbing tight circles that send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your pupils dilate from the intensity of the sensation, and you can feel the familiar coil building in your lower abdomen, threatening to unravel at any moment.
"I know you're close, sweet girl," his words make you squeeze your gummy walls and whine.
Feeling that familiar coil building in your lower tummy you quicken your movements, bouncing on his thick cock like a desperate bunny, wanting to make him proud. Just as you are clenching around him you can feel him throb inside you, his own release imminent.
You're determined to milk him for all he's worth, ensuring that he won't be distracted when he's on stage. Burying your face into the crook of his neck, you whimper at the burning sensation in your thighs, but the thought of reaching your sweet release spurs you on, driving you to push yourself further.
As both of your climaxes draw near, you hold each other tightly, your warm, sweaty bodies colliding in a passionate embrace. Michael, lost in the throes of pleasure, slams his hips upwards, eliciting a yelp of pleasure from you. With each passing second, you feel yourselves getting closer and closer to that pinnacle of ecstasy, your minds singularly focused on one thing and one thing only.
And then, it happens. Your orgasm crashes over you with an intensity that leaves you gasping for breath. As the waves of your orgasm crash over you with fervor, you can't help but moan loudly, completely lost in the throes of ecstasy. Your cries of pleasure fill the room as your walls clench and unclench around Michael's cock. He continues to rub your pulsing clit, prolonging the intoxicating high as you ride the waves of pleasure.
Just when you think you can't take any more, you feel him drive his hips up, a primal groan escaping his lips. Rope after rope of his creamy seed floods your depths, filling you up completely and painting your walls with his essence. He grunts beside your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he stuffs you full of his cum, some even seeping out from the sheer volume.
As he empties himself inside you, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to his chest, both of you panting and spent. The room is filled with the sound of heavy breathing as you let yourselves calm down, your mouth dry from all the moaning and gasping.
As your breathing gradually evens out, you find yourself smiling contentedly, drawing invisible patterns on his chest with your fingers. He chuckles at the sight, amused by how just moments ago, you were bouncing on his cock with such need and now you look like an innocent angel.
"It's not funny, you tease!" you playfully poke his nipple.
"Hey, it's not my fault my shows are better when you're so needy for me," he teases back, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head as you feign a fake pout and nuzzle into his chest.
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Taglist: @heartss444mj @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @youronlyonenini @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn
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oh-snapperss · 9 months
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The Ultimate Guide to MCC!
New to watching mcc? Have no idea where to start? Or maybe you already watch mcc, and just want information all in one place?
Well, good news! I'm insane about MCC and made this massive post for no other reason! I plan to keep this updated as I think of other vods/clips and new stuff happens, so if you want to be sure you're reading the most up to date version of the post, click here.
With all that out of the way-
What is MCC?
MCC stands for Minecraft Championships and is an event organized by Noxcrew, who develop and test the games, and Scott Smajor, who makes the teams! The event takes place usually once a month, and 10 teams of 4 people compete to be the top two teams overall by playing eight minigames! The top two teams battle it out at the end by playing Dodgebolt (first to win three rounds takes the crown).
Noxcrew announces the teams and next date of the event on MCC's official twitter and their newsletter via email, although @mcc-updates posts the teams here as well after they're announced.
Some useful links and more information on the event:
mcc.live - Official site that updates live during the event! Team scores are updated live here, and links to all the streaming POV's are included. You can also find information on past MCC's and how an individual performed!
MCC Wiki - Community run wiki for the event! You can find information on any player that's ever been in an MCC, information about how the event works, and information on individual events.
A list of active games in the event, and how each are played can be found here!
Canon VS. Noncanon MCCs
Sometimes, Noxcrew decides to host an MCC that is considered "noncanon". Typically, this means that something about the event is different, and player's coins and stats for that MCC will not go into the overall average of their played events. Some examples of noncanon mccs:
MCC Pride (held once a year, typically raises money for the Trevor Project!
MCC Rising (only players who have never participated in an MCC before may be in it!)
MCC Scuffed (April Fools MCC, the entire event was scuffed on purpose, an incredibly funny overall event)
MCC All Stars (Only players who have won an MCC participate)
With all of that out of the way, some iconic and hilarious clips from across the events!
(note: where I could, I've included the vods that these clips came from!)
Grian's Iconic 1v3 Dodgebolt (MCC 17)
Jimmy Solidarity's 1v3 Dodgebolt (MCC 28)
Illumina EWW (MCC 15)
Purpled's nearly perfect Parkour Warrior run with Ranboo and Charlie losing their minds in the background (MCC 26)
Purpled's perfect Parkour Warrior Run (MCC 32)
Jojo's insane Sands of Time carry (MCC 31)
"Joel, I want a divorce!" (MCC 10)
"Sapnap I will eat your children!" (MCC 18)
Lord Grian Dreamslayer (MCC 9)
Michael Mcchill's Ace Race breakdown (MCC All Stars)
MCC Iconic Vods/Fan Favorites!
Orange Ocelots MCC 17 - Grian, Falsesymmetry, Petezahutt and SB737
Orange Ocelots MCC 24 - Tubbo, Tommyinnit, Hbomb and Jack Manifold
Blue Bats MCC Scuffed - Smallishbeans, Smajor, Fwhip and Geminitay
Cyan Coyotes MCC 24 - PearlescentMoon, Aimsey, JojoSolos and Hannahxxrose
Blue Bats MCC 9 - Falsesymmetry, Rendog, Hbomb and Fruitberries
If you want some other great channels and streams for MCC, I've listed some below!
All Things MCC is a channel hosted by Seapeekay and always uploads a video after each MCC featuring their picks for the top ten plays of the event! They also do team predictions + the occasional other video on MCC. Super fun, and a great way to catch some clips you may have missed during the event.
MCC Vault posts clips of various perspectives from various events--typically another way to see things you might not get to see otherwise.
If you're a Sands of Time enjoyer, Hbomb94 usually goes live the day after the event and vod reviews at least one POV of Sands of Time from each team. Super entertaining, and a fun way to really get to know the strats for that game.
You may be thinking-wow, these games look really fun! Is there a way for anyone to play them?
The answer is yes-and no. While some of the games are not currently available for download, Noxcrew has a public minecraft server called MCC Island, available for anyone to join and play! As of right now, the available games to play on that server are:
Parkour Warrior (available in singleplayer mode and a fast paced competitive mode)
Sky Battle (eight teams compete instead of ten, and there are maps available that are not played in the main event!)
To Get To The Other Side (three rounds instead of six, uses a mixture of maps from the event and maps that are not played in the event)
Hole in the Wall (be warned--there are traps, different maps, and overall is a harder game on the island. My personal fav:D)
Battle Box (three rounds instead of nine, mixture of maps
Noxcrew has stated they plan on adding more games to the server, and there are events and other things happening too!
IP to join the server: play.mccisland.net
You can find more information and official forums here!
Additionally, you can download Terra Swoop Force and play it on a singleplayer world or put it in a server with your friends! Link for the download and instructions here.
Finally, Grid Runners is an available map on Bedrock edition only--I don't know much about bedrock, only that it is an option. Link to that info here.
I think that's about it for now! I'll update this as I think of things or am asked to add something:) Hopefully this helps a bit, cause I know coming into this stuff with no info can be overwhelming!
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alwaysonthemend · 6 months
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Author's Note: Hello my loves! This is my most favorite thing that I've ever written so I really hope you all enjoy. Please ignore any typos lol 💞
Content Warnings: Cussing, arguing, mentions of unrequited love, heartbreak, mentions of drinking, frat parties, angry sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, choking, praise kink, squirting, oral (m and f receiving) bruises from sex. I think that's all but please let me know if I missed anything! 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI
Word Count: 7946 (oops)
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Frat parties can be hit or miss you’ve come to discover. The music tends to be just okay (though they often play the better music towards the end) and they’re always hot and cramped and leave you feeling completely wiped out and gross by the end. For a long time, you avoided them all together – choosing instead to spend your Friday nights indoors reading or listening to music. But then you’d met Josh (and by extension the rest of the Kiszka-Wagner friend group) and they’d shown you that with the right people, parties could be a hell of a good time. Having a group to go with – ones who’ll dance with you and laugh and have fun with you, makes parties a nice break to the monotony every now and again.  
This one will no doubt be like all the others – packed and hot and the music blaring so loudly that you can feel it reverberate through your chest. The lights will be flashing between blues, greens, and reds and the room will smell strongly of alcohol. But you'll be surrounded by your little group of friends who will be laughing and dancing with you, distracting you from anything other than having fun. 
You’d met Josh during your first semester at University of Michigan and the two of you had quickly become good friends. You’d been partnered up in your film class and the rest, as they say, was history. He’d been the one to drag you out tonight – despite your protests of being tired. 
“Please?” He’d asked, giving you his very best puppy dog eyes. “It’s not fun if I have to go by myself.” 
“Josh,” You’d sighed, tucking your book into your backpack as you spoke, “I’m tired. Get Jake to go with you or something.” 
“He is going with me! But he hates frats and all he does is stand there and sulk the whole time.” 
You’d halted for a brief moment, your brain conjuring up images of Jake at a frat party that had butterflies erupting in your tummy before you’d quickly shaken your head, but Josh had caught you anyway. 
A smug smile had spread across his face, making him look like the damn Cheshire Cat. 
“Is seeing Jake not reason enough to show up? You know you wanna see him…” 
You rolled your eyes, huffing a breath and trying to ignore the heat spreading across your cheeks. Evidently, he’d yet to catch on to the tension that had taken up residence between you and his twin in the last few months – a far cry from what you two used to be. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joshua Michael. No idea at all.” 
“Sure you don’t, babe.” He’d said with a grin, knowing that he’d successfully convinced you. 
Your relationship with Jake is odd to say the least. You’d met him pretty quickly after meeting Josh – given the fact that they’re practically attached at the hip, and you’d hit it off with him just as you had with his twin. In fact, there was a time when you’d thought that maybe there was something more there with him… subtle glances and private smiles that took place between the two of you had sure made you think so. 
Though you and Jake had never hung out one on one (Josh was always there with you), the two of you would usually manage to find an excuse to sneak off together and you’d quickly found that the two of you have a lot in common – a love for music and Tolkein most notably. You and him could spend hours talking about the nuances of the Silmarillion and about whether or not Hozier should be considered a pop artist. 
Your favorite times though were when you all would be hanging out at Josh’s house for movie nights – you, Jake, Sam, Danny, and Josh, and you and Jake would sneak off alone to do whatever you pleased. Most of the time, you and him would end up on the roof to stargaze. Sometimes you talked – you’d talk for so long that both of your voices would grow hoarse from use. Other times, the two of you would just sit in silence, enjoying the other’s company. In those moments, it was like you and Jake were the only two people in the universe, completely content to let everything and everyone else melt away. 
Your friendship with Josh had been easy but the one you had with Jake had been effortless. Jake made you feel seen – like you could truly be yourself without him judging you for it. Though he could come across as broody and sullen at times, there’s a light inside Jake that only few people are lucky enough to see… and he had trusted you enough to be one of those people. At least, until about four weeks ago when suddenly it seemed like he didn’t want to even be near you anymore. 
Where used to the two of you would hang off to the sides at parties and gatherings (often standing a lot closer than you needed to be), now it was like he made sure to be wherever you weren’t. And God, did it hurt your feelings. You’d allowed yourself to become vulnerable with him – let him see parts of yourself that you’d hardly shared with anyone, not even Josh. And he’d tossed you to the side seemingly overnight… like all those deep conversations you’d had with him meant nothing at all. You desperately wanted to understand what had changed but refused to be the person to reach out. He was the one that stopped texting back. He was the one that started acting like you were merely acquaintances. He was the one who made you think that you were both in love one minute only to completely ignore you the next. He owed it to you to be the one to talk first. 
So silence had fallen completely between the two of you and  evidently, Josh wasn’t aware of it yet. But still, you were determined to not let Jake ruin a good time for you. You hadn’t been out with Josh in ages and you were confident that it would be easy enough to ignore Jake’s existence, especially given that he seemed intent to ignore yours too. 
– 
As expected, you're  immediately assaulted with humidity and the smell of alcohol as you step through the doors. Josh stands at your side as you both scan the crowd for familiar faces. Sure enough, tucked into a far corner is Sam and Danny – both of them already seeming to be a little tipsy. Josh grips your hand and the two of you wade through the sea of bodies, doing your best to avoid stray elbows and drunken party-goers. 
“You actually came!” Danny shouts at you over the din, a rosy hue on his cheeks from the alcohol he’s no doubt already indulged in. He and Sam called it “pre-gaming.” 
“Josh convinced me!” You shout back, nudging his shoulder playfully. 
“It’s my irresistible charm!” Josh answers, grabbing your hands in his and playfully beginning to sway you both back and forth. 
“Charm my ass.” Sam mutters, just barely audible over the music. Josh just shoots him a glare before returning his attention back to you. 
“Where’s Jake?” You ask, allowing Josh to lead you both a little bit more towards the center of the packed room. It's slow going – everyone else is hardly paying attention to anyone trying to get through, but you manage to get halfway there before you both become trapped from moving any further. 
“Sulking over there. Just like I said he would be.” Josh jerka his head in the direction to his left and you follow the movement, finding Jake leaning up against a wall with a red solo cup in his hand. 
Your eyes meet his and he immediately drops your gaze, the corners of his mouth dropping into a frown. You want desperately to march over there and demand he tell you what had changed but you refuse to back down first. This wasn’t the place for that anyway.
“Aren’t you gonna go sulk with him?” Josh asks, smiling down at you. The blue strobe lights make his teeth almost glow and it reflects off his sharp cheekbones. 
You shake your head. 
“I feel like dancing tonight.” 
He only grins before pulling you in closer to him, letting go of your hands to place his palms on your hips. You bring your own hands up and lace your fingers together behind his neck and allow him to guide your hips to the beat of the music. You close your eyes and lean into him, allowing the music to drown out everything else. If you keep your eyes closed, you can almost imagine that it's his twin out here dancing with you instead. 
Josh is attractive – that had been obvious from the moment that you first saw him. And maybe in another lifetime you and him might have been more than friends. But you and Josh both knew that in this one, best friends were all you would ever be. You’d kissed once at a party… You’d both been drunk and high off your asses and afterwards you had both agreed that there wasn’t anything there. But in this moment, you almost wish that you’d fallen for him instead of Jake. Falling for Jake had clearly been foolish given how he dropped you so quickly. Making you feel like he wanted you one moment only to then act like he hated you the next. You know Jake was angry though – especially if the glare that he's giving you and Josh from his place against the wall is anything to go by. 
As you and Josh sway and rock to the pounding music, Jake’s dark gaze stays locked on yours. There's anger in his eyes that makes you want to pull away from Josh but you refuse. Instead, you only pin him with one challenging glare of your own before turning your attention back to Josh. 
“What’s got him so pissy?” Josh asks you, leaning his head down to press his lips against your ear so that you can actually hear him. 
“Hell if I know.” 
Josh hums and you can feel the sound reverberate through his chest thanks to the close proximity. 
“If I didn’t know any better…” he starts with a sly look on his face, “I’d say he looked jealous.” 
“He’s just a dick.” You say, venom lacing your words – the hurt that you’d been keeping to yourself these past few weeks finally beginning to spill over. Josh looks taken aback for a moment before smoothing over his expression. 
“Sorry.” he says, though you can tell that he doesn't really know what he was saying sorry for. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” He knows that your relationship with Jake is… different. And it pains him to see you both angry at each other but he has no idea how to fix it. Instead, he seems intent on making it worse. 
“Wanna give him a show then? Show him what he could have had?” Josh whispers, a wicked smile on his face. 
You smile back at him and nod. He uses his grip on your waist to pull you into him even more so that your hips are flush against each other. The lights have morphed from greens and blues to a deep red and the base is pounding in your chest. You move your hips from side to side, pressing your face into Josh’s neck as he moves with you to the beat. It isn't even dancing anymore – just mindless grinding against each other. You deliberately keep your gaze pointed away from Jake but you know he's still watching. You can feel his piercing gaze even from across the room. 
Just as you begin to lose yourself fully to the moment, a strong hand wraps around your bicep and yanks you harshly from Josh’s grip. 
“The fuck?” You spit, spinning around to be met with none other than Jake, his chest heaving and his brows pinched together in anger. 
“Jake, what the fuck is your problem?” Josh yells, regarding his twin with a frown. 
The two seemed to be sizing each other up, though you knew that Josh is just enjoying getting a rise out of his brother and feeling protective over you. But Jake… you can practically see the rage oozing from him. The red lighting makes his smooth skin almost glow and his dark hair falls on either side of his face, framing his sharp features. If you weren’t so pissed at him you might be tempted to kiss him. 
“This doesn’t involve you.” Jake finally says, a dangerous edge to his voice. 
“The hell it doesn’t!” Josh snaps back, eyes blazing in defiance. 
“Josh…” you hedge, placing a calming hand on his forearm. His eyes sweep to yours, immediately softening. “I’ve got it. Thank you.” 
Josh stares at you for a moment, debating whether to step away or not. You hold his gaze, silently trying to let him know that you could handle this on your own. Finally, he dips his head and steps back. 
“I’ll be with Sam and Danny if you need me.” He tells you, before retreating back to the corner. 
You watch him go before spinning on your heel to glare back at Jake. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” You rip your arm from Jake’s grip as you speak. 
“What’s wrong with you?” He shouts back angrily. “Grinding on my twin brother like that!”
This time, you're the one to reach out and harshly grip his arm. You tug him backwards, leading him towards a side door that you know leads to a bathroom downstairs. You don’t turn back to look at him as you lead the two of you down, instead focusing on trying to steady your breathing and bring down your blood pressure. You're so angry you could scream. 
As soon as the bathroom door is shut and locked behind the two of you, Jake has you pressed back against the wall, nostrils flared and eyes blown wide as he regards you. 
“What in the world is wrong with you, Jake? You’re acting like an asshole.” You seeth, hating the tremble in your voice. Despite your anger, his closeness is still affecting you.
Jake doesn’t answer. He just stares down at you, chewing on his plump bottom lip. 
“No. I’m not doing this with you.” You shove him away from you, the sudden movement causing him to stumble back slightly. “You don’t get to ignore my existence and then get pissed just because I danced with Josh.” 
“If you wanted to fuck him so badly you could at least have the decency to do it in private. Instead of throwing yourself at him like a whore in the middle of a dance floor.” 
You balk, taken aback by his harshness. Never in all the time you’d known him has he ever spoken to you like that – to anyone for that matter. 
“Fuck you.” You spit, clenching your fists at your sides to stop yourself from punching his stupid, perfect face. “You have no fucking right to be pissed at me, dickhead. I’m the one who should be pissed at you!”
“The fuck did I do?” 
You roll your eyes. 
“If you don’t know what you did then I’m not going to tell you.” You turn your back to him, intent on going back upstairs. “Figure it out yourself.”
“Go right ahead, then. Go fuck my twin like I know you want to!” He snaps and the sheer aggression in his tone makes your whole body freeze. Icy hot anger washes over you and you feel like you could explode from anger. 
“What” You seeth, turning back around to face him, “did you just say to me?”
He meets your gaze, defiance coating his expression. 
“You heard me.” 
“Is that what you want me to do? You want me to fuck Josh?” 
“I don’t care what you do. Just don’t do it where I have to fucking watch.”
His eye twitches, betraying him. You take a step closer and he steps back away from you, caging himself in against the wall. Acting on sheer impulse, you press in close to him – so close that your lips are almost touching. His chest heaves with each breath he takes and a sheen of sweat makes his skin glisten in the low light of the bathroom. 
“I think you care.” You say, voice so low it's almost a whisper. 
“I don’t.” He growls, eyes narrowing dangerously. 
“I call bullshit.” This time, you let your lips just barely ghost over his as you speak. “You’re just pissed that he’s not too much of a pussy to make a move like you are.”
In a flash your back is slammed against the bathroom wall, knocking the air from your lungs. You gasp but the sound is swallowed by Jake crashing his lips into yours. You can’t help but to kiss back and he groans into your mouth. You hook your fingers into the belt loops of his black jeans, pulling him in closer to you. The kiss is rough – teeth clacking together as you practically devour each other. 
Your chest begins to burn and finally you pull back for air. Jake looks completely ravished, cheeks flushed and lips slick with spit. 
“Fuck me.” You demand into the silence, your voice coming out embarrassingly high pitched. 
“Sure you don’t want Josh to do it instead?” His voice cracks on the last word, ruining his facade but you aren’t ready to give up the fight yet. 
“Okay.” You tell him, shrugging your shoulders as you make to step away from him. 
Before you can even begin to detangle yourself from him, he’s spun you around and slammed your face into the cold tile wall. 
“Don’t you fucking dare.” He mutters, smothering your body with his own. You can feel his hard cock pressing into your ass and you can’t help the whimper that falls from your lips. “Tell me to stop and I will.” He whispers, a tad softer than before. 
You open your mouth to snark back, to tell him that he’s an asshole or a dick or something, but all that comes out is a breathless, needy moan. 
“Words, Y/n.” He insists, digging his fingers into the meat of your hips. 
“Do it, Jake. Fuck me.” You demand, pressing your ass back into his hard length and drawing a breathy little groan from him. “Please.”
The “please” is all it takes. Jake hooks his fingers into your waistband and roughly yanks your jeans and panties down. You hear him unzip his pants and the clink of his belt buckle as he pulls his own jeans down just enough for his length to spring free. He swipes a calloused fingertip through your folds, brushing against your swollen clit and causing you to gasp. 
“Fuck.” The word falls from your lips like a prayer, though to whom you have no idea. God surely wants no part in what Jake is about to do to you. 
“You’re dripping, angel.” Jake murmurs, swiping through your pussy lips again to gather as much of your wetness as he can. You can’t see him but you can hear the wet sounds of his hand pumping his cock, your slick making it easy. “Fuck, you look incredible like this.” 
You whine, shoving your hips backward to let him know that you’re more than ready for him. Jake takes the hint, spearing you with his cock and burying himself inside you all the way to the hilt. The stretch is painful and wonderful all at the same time and you both cry out at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. You want desperately to hear that noise from him again so you bear down on him as much as you can, contracting your muscles to squeeze him. 
“Shit.” He grits out through clenched teeth, wrapping one arm around your lower belly to keep you in place. “You keep doing that and this isn’t gonna last very long.”
“Move, Jakey.” The nickname escapes you unbidden but he doesn’t seem to mind, instead finally starting to rut his hips against you, his cock dragging along your walls deliciously.
You bring both hands up to brace your palms against the wall and let your head fall back onto Jake’s shoulder. Immediately, his lips attach to the sensitive skin as his thrusts pick up in speed. It’s brutal – no finesse as he pounds into you so hard that you see stars. You know that you’re being too loud but you can’t seem to stop yourself. Curses and please and his name spew from your lips with reckless abandon but he’s too far gone himself to silence you. He detaches his lips from your throat and tosses his own head back, little grunts and moans escaping him with each thrust of his hips into yours. He draws you in closer to him with his forearm and his free hand reaches up to wrap around your throat. He squeezes just enough to restrict a little bit of the blood flow, causing your head to swim with pleasure. 
“Who gets to see you like this?” He demands as he drops his forehead to rest against your shoulder, his thrusts somehow picking up even more speed. Your knees slam into the wall each time he pistons in and out of you and you know that you’ll have bruises there tomorrow – battle scars to remind you of this glorious moment. 
“You, Jake. Only you.” You manage to say through a wheeze, his fingers still wrapped around your throat. 
“That’s fucking right.” He confirms, pace beginning to falter. “Touch your clit, angel. Touch her for me.” 
You comply, sliding one hand down to circle feverishly against your swollen bundle of nerves. Your body is trembling, Jake’s grip on you the only reason that you’re still upright. The coil in your belly tightens dangerously, a feeling like none other beginning to claw its way up your body – completely engulfing you in the feeling of Jake, Jake, Jake. 
“M’ gonna cum.” You warn him, speech coming out slurred and barely comprehensible. 
“Fuck, me too. Give it to me. Now!” He demands and the band inside you snaps. 
You cry out loudly, your whole body trembling as the pleasure inside you hits its peak. Jake lets go of your throat and the rush of blood to your head coupled with the way he keeps pounding into you sends you tailspinning into another orgasm. Your pussy feels like it's on fire –  the pleasure and overstimulation of two orgasms so close together sending you into a state of fucked out bliss. It seems to go on forever, your whole body going slack against him. 
Finally, Jake pulls from you and immediately ropes of his own release paint your ass and lower back. The moan that escapes him sounds angelic and you wish that you could have recorded it somehow. 
You both just stand there for a long moment, the silence only broken by yours and his panting as you both recover from the mind-blowing orgasms that you just experienced. 
“Y/n.” His voice cuts through to you, sounding breathy and tired but so much softer than it had before. 
Just as you open your mouth to reply, a frenzied rattle of the door handle causes you both to jump. 
“Open the fucking door!” A drunken voice that you don’t recognize calls out. “I’ve gotta take a piss!” 
Jake lets go of you and you both quickly yank your jeans back up, doing your best to straighten your clothes and hair. Without saying a word, Jake strides over to the door and unlocks it, pushing a frazzled and drunk looking young guy out of the way and exiting the bathroom. 
“Watch it, buddy.” The guy pouts, rubbing his shoulder where Jake had run into him. 
“Move.” You demand, pushing him out of the way again to catch up to Jake as he angrily stomps up the stairs. “Jake!” You call, leaving the poor guy to stare after the two of you confusedly. 
“Jake, wait!’ You yell, ascending the stairs and stepping back out into the cramped dance floor. You’re disoriented, the loud music and flashing lights suddenly causing you to feel dizzy. You just barely see Jake disappear out the front door before you push and shove your way through the throng of people to follow him. 
Stepping out into the cool night air, you see Jake fumbling in his pocket for his car keys. 
“You can’t just leave, Jake!” You call, tears beginning to brim in your eyes. 
He must hear the tremble in your voice because he finally stops, turning back to look at you. He looks distraught. 
“We shouldn’t have done that.” He tells you, eyes dropping to stare at your shoes. “I’m sorry. It was a mistake.” 
“W-what?” It feels like you’re spinning – like someone put your brain in the dryer. You can feel the blood drain from your face. “Why would you-” You stop yourself, unsure of how to even continue. 
“I’m sorry.” He says again, before rounding the corner out of sight, leaving you to stand there alone on the sidewalk. 
Two weeks pass. You and him don’t speak. Hell, you barely even speak to Josh – his presence serving as too much of a reminder of what had happened. It felt like a fever dream… almost like it wasn’t even real. It’s like your own worst nightmare has come true. And not only that, you’re being forced to deal with it completely alone. 
You’d let passion and desperation dictate you towards the decisions that you’d made that night. Had you wanted it in the moment? Yes, you had. But now that it was all over and Jake clearly regretted it, you’re sure that the friendship you’d had with him is shattered beyond repair. Before, there’d been hope of fixing things – of talking things out and going back to how you once were. But now… There’s no reason to hope. You fucked the guy who used to be your closest friend in a frat house bathroom and there’s just no going back from that. 
Josh has been calling and texting you incessantly, begging you to tell him what happened that night. But you refuse. And after he wouldn’t give up asking after the second day, you’d resorted to just ignoring him completely. The fact that Jake hadn’t told him anything – despite having always told him everything, speaks a thousand words about how Jake feels about it. 
A knock echoes through your apartment, just barely audible over the Hozier album you have playing in the background. Thunder rumbles softly in the distance and sheets of rain pelt your windows. It’s a perfect night for a book and some wine – a way to detach yourself from the drama of the past few weeks. 
You sigh audibly, closing your book and placing it on the coffee table next to your wine glass. You figured it wouldn’t take long of ignoring Josh’s messages for him to come and find you. You rise from your seat and make your way to the front door, shoulders taut with the anxiety of having to tell Josh what happened. There’s no way he’s leaving you alone without the full story. 
You open the door, expecting to see a mop of curly hair waiting for you but instead you’re met with the soulful brown eyes of his twin. 
“Jake?” You ask incredulously, instinctively taking a step back from him. “You look…” You trail off. He looks awful. Dark bruises mar the smooth skin beneath his eyes and his long hair lies limp across his shoulders. He’s soaking wet from the rain. 
“Can I come in?” He asks and you nod at him, stepping aside from the doorway to make space for him to step inside. 
He stands completely still after closing the door behind him – awkwardly shoving his hands into his pockets. 
“Let me get you a towel.” 
You don’t give him time to reply, instead hastily retreating to your bathroom to grab him a clean towel to dry off. Perhaps it’s cowardly to run but you truly hadn’t been expecting to ever see him at your door again. 
When you return he’s still in the same place, dark eyes watching you warily as you hand the towel to him. 
“Thank you.” He says quietly, drying himself off the best he can. 
You just incline your head at him before retreating back to your living room, jerking your head in the direction letting him know that you want him to follow you. 
Your record had gone silent so you go over to your record player and flip it over before pressing play again. 
“Why are you here, Jake?” You ask him, turning back to face him with your arms crossed tightly across your chest. 
“To say that I’m sorry.”  He gingerly places the towel down on the coffee table, his whole body looking tense and uncomfortable. You’ve only ever seen him look like that around strangers. Somehow, you suppose that that’s what the two of you have become to one another. 
“Sorry for what?” You bite out, your hurt spilling over into your words like poison. “For leading me on for months on end or for fucking me in a bathroom and then calling it a mistake?” You don’t want to fight with him. Not anymore. But you can’t seem to stop the harsh words as they spew from your mouth – lashing out like an injured animal that’s been shoved into a corner. You suppose he has done that in a way, showing up at your own home unannounced in the middle of the night like this. 
Jake flinches back slightly at your words, shrinking in on himself like he’s been struck. 
“For… all of it, I guess.”  He shrugs, eyes staying locked onto the floor at your feet. “I don’t know.” 
“You don’t know?” That makes you angry. So angry you could cry. He came all this way – did all those things to you… and yet he doesn’t know. “I think you and I both know that you owe me more than that.” 
He nods once, eyes finally sweeping to meet yours. His gaze almost makes you soften. Almost.
“I assumed a lot of things, Y/n. And made an ass of myself because of it. But I don’t know how to fix it.” 
You collapse onto your sofa, suddenly feeling like you’ve run a marathon. Jake eyes the spot next to you but makes no move to join you. 
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that.” You tell him honestly. 
“I- I thought you and Josh were together.” He admits quietly, shoulders sinking in defeat. 
Somehow, you don’t doubt his words – nor do they shock you. You’ve known the twins long enough to see little hints here and there of the insecurity that lies buried within Jake. The way he’s quieter in large groups, like he feels like his words aren’t welcome. The way he shrinks back sometimes, afraid to voice his thoughts for fear of being judged or mocked. You've seen the way that he always looks to Josh in moments of doubt, like he can’t fathom ever going against what his twin might want of him. 
Josh had even hinted about it once, a long long time ago. He’d told you that he worries about Jake sometimes when he thinks about when they’re older and he won’t be around to look after him. You hadn’t quite understood the meaning behind his words or the depth of their bond back then. But now you do. They’re connected in a way that you can never understand. Their very souls are intertwined – wrapped around each other lovingly just as they had been since the womb. It’s a beautiful thing that you even find yourself envious of from time to time. Bonds like theirs… It's something that doesn’t happen often. 
But that bond seems to come with a caveat for Jake – burdened with thinking of himself as the lesser twin. He’d always been the quiet one, happy to let Josh be in the spotlight and content to bask in the residual warmness of him. You doubt either of them are really even aware of the way Josh always seems to be the leader. It’s natural to them – something that Jake has never seemed to have a problem with before. Until you came along. 
“We aren’t. Nor do we plan on it. He’s my best friend, that’s all.” You tell him honestly.
“I know that now. Josh told me I was an idiot.”
You huff softly. He smiles tentatively in return. 
“He also told me to stop feeling sorry for myself and to listen to what you’ve been telling me this whole time.” 
You cock your head to the side, imagining the way Josh probably said the words. You can picture it – the little glimmer that undoubtedly took up residence in his eyes. He loves to play the wise sage. 
“And did you?” 
He nods his head. 
“I think so. That’s why I came tonight. To apologize. And to beg you to let me try again.”  
You sigh heavily, closing your eyes for a moment to listen to the rain tap against the glass. 
“Please.” 
You open your eyes to see that he’s come closer, those brown eyes of his boring into yours in a way that makes your knees weak. You’re fairly certain that those eyes will be the death of you some day. 
“You really hurt me, Jake. All those times that we spent time together… the things that I told you – things I’ve never told anyone before. And then you just-” You throw your hands up in defeat, words failing you. 
“I know what I did. And I am so so sorry, angel. I’m sorry for making you think that I could ever not want everything with you.” He sinks to his knees on the floor in front of the sofa, pleading eyes turned up to you.  
“Then tell me.” You demand. 
“I can’t.” 
“Jake…” You sigh, feeling your walls beginning to stand themselves up again. You’re so tired of waiting on him. 
“Wait!” He calls out sharply, the loudness of the word shocking the both of you. “Just…” He starts again, voice quiet again. “I need you to ask me first.” 
You want to deny him. To tell him to man up and just say it. But the way he’s looking at you, the way his shoulders have drooped in utter defeat… You can’t find it within your heart to deny him. 
“Are you in love with me?” The question escapes your lips soft and quiet – like a secret passed between friends. 
“Yes.” His answer is a prayer and you his savior – this room his confessional and you his altar. 
The air punches its way out of your lungs as his words register in your brain. Those words that you’d so desperately been wanting to hear. 
“I love you too.” The way your own confession slips past your lips without any thought makes his eyes light up – as if he couldn’t believe it until he heard the words from your own mouth. 
“Let me love you right.” He pleads, bringing his palms up to slide over your cloth-covered thighs. “Let me do this the way I should have the first time.” 
“Okay.” You whisper, reaching out for him like a small child. You want to feel him – all of him, for the first time. 
“Not here.” He says, rising from his knees and lacing his fingers with yours. “Your bedroom. Let me do it right, angel. Please.” 
Once again, you’re powerless to deny him so you rise to your feet and lead him into your bedroom. He presses your shoulders lightly, signaling for you to lay down. You relent, falling softly into the mattress. He climbs in after you, eyes glowing in the dim lamplight. The light spills from over the lampshade in the corner, bathing you both in warmth. It makes his hair reflect almost auburn as he hovers above you. The room is silent save for the distant rumble of thunder and the soft sound of your record player wafting in from the other room. Your heart pounds so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. 
Keeping his eyes trained on yours, Jake hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants, pausing momentarily as he waits for you to give him permission. You nod and he slides the fabric down your legs so that you can kick them off. His eyes sweep down your bare legs, lingering on your cotton panties and the ever-growing dark spot over your clothed pussy. His eyes stop at your knees, eyeing the bruises there. 
“Did I do this?” He asks forlornly, delicately tracing his thumb over the marks. 
You nod. 
“I wanted it, though. It’s okay.” 
He just shakes his head, pressing a featherlight kiss to each knee before sweeping his chocolate eyes back to yours. 
“It’s not.” 
There’s finality in his words. You don’t argue. Instead, you reach out for him, pulling him up towards you so that his weight settles on top of you, his knees pressed into the mattress between your legs. You unbutton his shirt slowly, reveling in each bit of tan skin it reveals. His necklace sways as he reaches back to toss his shirt to the floor. Your own shirt is next, leaving you in nothing but your panties and revealing your breasts to him and the cold air of the room. You’d opted to go braless since you got home and Jake seems more than appreciative. He stares at the hardened buds, licking his lips.  
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, palming your left breast in his calloused hand. It feels so good to have his touch on you and a whine spills out of you at the simple action. 
“So are you.” You tell him, reaching out once more to unbutton his pants. He slides the denim off himself, revealing his cock straining through the fabric of his boxers. You extend your hand to palm him through the material but he stops you. You flick your eyes up to him in question. 
“Not yet. I want to worship you first. The way you deserve.” 
He pulls your panties down your legs and a groan slips out of him at the sight of your glistening center. He’s looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You guess you are. 
Without warning, he dips his tongue through your folds, drawing a whiny cry from you. He dives into your aching pussy with what you can only describe as reverence, alternating between dipping the tip of his tongue into your slit and circling your swollen clit. The pace is maddening as he goes from fast to soft again, making you writhe on the bed with each pass of his talented tongue. 
“Oh, Jake.” You whine, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging. “That feels so good.” 
He moans at your praise and the vibration makes your legs quake and your thighs to clamp down around his head. 
“Please, Jake. More.” He answers your wanton cries immediately, pulling his face away from your dripping cunt and pressing a long, talented finger into you. He curls it upwards, brushing against that special spot inside of you. 
You arch your back, mouth dropping open in pleasure as he keeps his finger pumping in and out of you as he descends back down onto your pussy, wrapping his lips around your clit and suckling. 
“Please. Oh fuck!” You cry, thrashing your head from side to side as the pleasure inside you begins to build. “Please!” 
“Shhh.” He shushes, rising from your heat momentarily. “You don’t have to beg, angel. I’ll get you there.” 
He dives back in and the sound that comes out of you barely sounds human. The band in your belly tightens and tightens as your orgasm draws nearer and nearer. You’re chanting his name between each moan and your whole body begins to quiver. 
“You’re so good, Jake. So good. Oh fuck!” 
At your words, Jake moans loudly into your pussy and curls his finger just right – sending you crashing into your orgasm. You writhe and pant, eyes screwing shut in pleasured agony. 
As your mind comes back to the present, you open your eyes to see Jake breathing heavily with a flush overtaking his bare chest. 
“Can I taste you?” You beg, pressing your thighs together to try and relieve the ache that has already returned despite your climax just moments before. 
“You don’t have to, baby.” He says with a lopsided smile, tracing delicate circles against the inside of your calf. 
“I want to. I want to make you feel good.” 
“You already did.” He says with a bashful smile and you notice now the wet patch darkening his boxers. 
“Oh.” You breathe out, another wave of wetness escaping you and making your thighs slick. 
“Couldn’t help it. You look so pretty like that, moaning my name and telling me how good you feel. You don’t- I wasn’t even expecting to cum tonight. I want this to be about you.” There’s only truth in his eyes. 
“Come here.” You tell him. 
He crawls up towards the head of the bed, settling in next to you as you toss one leg over his thighs to straddle him. 
“Do you trust me?” You whisper, leaning in close to him. 
“Of course.” He ghosts his lips over yours, drawing you downwards to press a sweet kiss to your lips. It’s nothing like the kiss you shared before, desperate and anger-fueled. This one is soft – almost innocent if it weren’t for the lust coursing through the two of you. 
Once you pull away, licking your lips at the taste of him, you slide your body downwards and settle yourself between his legs. You mouth over his cock through the fabric of his boxers, his length already beginning to harden again. He whines softly, hands clenching in the sheets at his sides. 
You use your teeth to pull his boxers down, eyes not leaving his own until his cock reveals itself to you. Everything about Jake is pretty and his cock is no exception. It’s perfect. His head is flushed red and weeping where it rests against his naval and you can’t help but to reach out and wrap your fingers around him. He hisses at the feeling. You stroke him, smearing his precum around to slick the way as you begin to pump him slowly. 
Jake tosses his head back, plush lips falling open and melodic moans spilling from between them. His chest is flushed and sweat beads at his hairline, making his beautiful skin glow in the lamplight. You can’t help but to lean down and press a sweet kiss to his tip, then another down the side of him. Jake huffs a laugh. 
“What?” You ask him with a smile, continuing to stroke him lazily. 
“N-nothing.” He manages to get out, eyes fluttering almost shut. “You’re sweet.” 
“So are you.” You tell him before sinking your mouth down around him. 
He lets out a choked groan as his tip hits the back of your throat and his hips buck up off the bed. 
“Oh fuck!” He cries out as you hollow your cheeks and slide your mouth up his shaft, pressing your tongue into the spot just below the head. 
You bob up and down for a moment before he’s pulling himself from you and grabbing you to pull you up towards him. He crashes his lips against yours again, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You moan but he swallows the sound, delicately bringing his hands up to cup your face as he kisses you. 
“I need you inside me. Like, yesterday.” You tell him, earning yourself a sweet laugh. 
“Whatever you want, baby.”
He flips you over so that your back is pressed back into the mattress and you watch in rapt attention as he grips his hard cock, sliding his tip through your folds to gather your wetness. Finally, he sinks into you slowly, savoring every inch as he goes. 
You moan loudly as he finally bottoms out, halting his movements as you both revel in the feeling of being close again. 
“You feel so good, Y/n. I should have told you the first time how wonderful you are… how beautiful.” 
You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him in closer to you and you both moan as his cock slips deeper into you. 
“It’s okay.” You tell him as he begins to rock into you – long, deliberate strokes that set your whole body aflame. “Fuck Jake, you feel so fucking good.” 
His hair tickles your face as he fucks into you but you can’t be bothered to move it. You’re consumed by the feeling of him – of his cock hitting you so perfectly, by the noises that fall out of him after each thrust, by the way his face twists in pleasure as your walls clench around him. It’s all too much and not enough and you reach out blindly to grip his shoulders, pulling his torso down so that you can capture his lips again. 
His lips are so soft as they move against yours and you can tell that he’s close already by the way his thrusts are growing sloppy and by the tremble of his shoulders. He’s holding back – waiting for your pleasure before he allows himself his. 
“You feel so good, Jake. So, so good.” 
“Yeah.” He whispers, bringing his hand up to swirl his tongue around the pad of his thumb before pressing it into your clit, rubbing circles in time with his thrusts. “Tell me you’re mine, angel. Please.” 
Your back arches against your will as white hot bliss spreads through you, overtaking your body from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. Your mouth drops open and a loud whine escapes you as you try to form the words. 
“All yours, Jake. All yours.” You chant, digging your fingers into his biceps as your orgasm builds yet again. “Yours, baby.” 
He lets out a sound that almost sounds pained and his eyebrows pinch together as his thrusts grow faster and faster – the sound of his skin hitting yours and the slick squelch from between your legs filling the small bedroom. 
“W- fuck! Where?” He begs you, his whole body trembling.
“Inside! Fuck, Jake. Inside. Wanna feel it. Oh fuck!” 
He moans loudly as he finishes, painting your walls with his release and the sound of him is what drives you over the edge. Your release gushes out of you, drenching him in your pleasure as you both ride out your orgasms together. The world around you melts away to just you and him, blanketed in your pleasure and safe from everything else that threatens to come between you. It’s everything. 
When you both finally come back to yourselves, Jake slowly pulls himself from you before allowing his weight to settle on top of you completely. It’s silent. The rain outside has finally stopped. 
“I love you.” He murmurs into your sweaty skin, lips tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.
“I love you too.” 
-----
If you're reading this, I love you! 💗
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nothomegal · 4 months
Text
“The little owl family” (Part 6)
(RZ!Michael Myers x GNReader)
Summary: your and your little sister’s life had an 180° turn when your parents got into a severe car crash, dying on the spot. You, being already past 18 had to figure out how to keep things afloat and give yourself, specially your sister, a good future. And you did! It was hard but you did it and became the absolute hero in the little girl’s eyes. People would often involuntary smile at the dynamic of your two, so wholesome and supportive, the perfect family bond.Bond that a certain Boogeyman noticed as well…
Warnings: a very light reference to suicidal thoughts at the beginning.
Word Count: 4k
Additional info: Gender Neutral reader. (S/N) = sister’s name.
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)
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It's been a day or two after that late meeting between (S/N) and Michael. And... Things went oddly well from then! The little girl became more relaxed in his presence, and would often send him small waves when (Y/N) wasn't looking, and Michael would often answer with the same little wave. It became a little secret game of theirs, it was simple yet fun. The numerous close calls of getting caught or suspected by the older sibling would always awake the childish mischief inside of the man, the possibility to fool around a bit made him feel oddly comfortable and at ease, like momentarily experiencing the childhood he never had.
He also noticed that (Y/N) themselves began to act more on ease around him. There weren't as many death glares sent at his direction, mostly just some cassual glances as if to check what he's up to or where he is. He won't lie, he kinda missed the attention he used to recieve, but this calmer and passive (Y/N) wasn't too bad neither, it kinda made him feel more normal and welcomed actually.
But soon he began to notice that maybe this sudden passivity didn't start out of nowhere, and the reason would be uncovered pretty soon...
. . .
A light groan escaped through (Y/N)'s lips as they make their way towards the kitchen after putting their little sister to sleep. While walking, they've been holding their bandaged hand close to their chest, an instinctive attempt to soothe the throbbing pain that only increased over the days. They're pretty sure their awful sleeping also played a huge part of why the pain is so unbearable. The countless nights they've spent guarding the door of (S/N)'s room and staying on high alert durning most of the day over the past week really drained them, both phisically and mentally. Leaving just enough energy to breathe and maintain a positive actitude around their sister.
They let a sight of relief once they stopped in front of a counter that had all the medicines in. The older sibling reaches for the container of painkillers only for it to be suddenly snatched away right under their nose.
Already knowing who did that, they slowly turn towards the responsible of it, tiredly glaring at that stupid emotionless masked face they hated with burning passion.
The two of them remained still, observing each other in silence. Michael didn't even tilt his head, meaning that he wasn't wondering or asking, no... He wanted to know what they're doing and he wanted to know it now.
—"...What?"— you eventually blurt out.
No answer or movement.
—"I'm not going to kill myself, I just need some medicine because my wrist hurts..."— you elaborate tiredly. —"Can you give in back, please?"—
Still nothing.
The container was actually at a reachable distance. If (Y/N) really wanted they could probably snatch it back. But of course they're not stupid to attempt that, Michael is a very deceiving specimen and things are never as simple as they look when it comes to him and his shenanigans, (Y/N) learned that the hard way.
—"Look. I'm. In. Pain. I need this because I no longer can handle it. Please, give me back the container."—
Nothing.
They grit their teeth out of anger and frustration. Is this bastard mocking them now? Silently enjoying their suffering? Or he's genuinely oblivious of their clearly not okay state?
—"You did this to me, remember?"— you snap as you lift your bandaged hand to show it. —"You broke my wrist, it's been hurting for days and right now it's freaking unbearable. So please, just give me the painki-"—
Their heart nearly stopped when their injured wrist was suddenly grabbed by the masked man. All (Y/N) could do now is stay frozen and helplessly stare at the black eye sockets of the rubber mask, which were staring right back at their shocked expression. They didn't even notice their hands became shaky, anxiety slowly flooding their mind as they suddenly remember who is the man in front of them.
Michael Myers, the man who escaped Smith's Grove by killing with his bare hands anyone who stayed on his way, the man who scarred his own little sister for life by kidnapping her and killing everyone dear to her just because, the man that somehow escaped death and kept his reign of terror for an entire year without anyone being able to do anything... This man, this monster did horrible things, things that he can do to them whever he wants, and he may do it right now as punishment for their boldness and lack of self preservation.
(Y/N) doesn't even know what face they're making, their emotions are too unstable. The stress, frustration and exhaustion are way too much to handle right now. They can't even use the energy to mantain a stone face, not when they're trying to keep themselves from breaking down on the floor and scream out of the frustration.
They just want it to stop. They want him to go away and leave them and their sister alone. They want to stop feeling worry every second of their existence, to stop these anxiety spikes whenever the blade of his knife runs through their body as he teases them, to stop feeling fear whenever his dark gaze moves away from them and is casted on their little sister, to stop feeling guilt that creeps through them whenever they see sadness appear on the little girl's face when she catches them being upset, they wish they could make her smile again, please, make her real smile return...
They... They just want to stop feeling in danger... Feeling hopeless... Feeling like they failed...
Please...
Please... Make it all stop.
Whatever look they had, it was enough to make Michael suddenly let go of their arm. However, instead of walking away or stand still, he steps forward and closer to them, body langage unreadable as always.
(Y/N) doesn't move, they don't even look at him at this point. They simply let their arms fall limply on their sides and lower their gaze, not even noticing the hot tears sliding down their face.
They're so tired, they're done.
Their breath hitched when their body made contact with Michael's larger and warmer one, following comes the sensation of something equally solid and warm wrapping around their form in a firm grip.
The embrace was tight, maybe even tighter that the one from the night he broke in. It was hard to breathe, though (Y/N) is unsure if it's due Michael's strength or their own choked sobs they could no longer hold back. This gesture, though simple, broke them completely...
The more they quietly cried, the tighter the embrace got, as if the man was really trying to force them to spit all the angst out, and maybe he was. It's no secret that Michael has no knowlege about comfort, it's something he lacked most of his life after all. But now, right after seeing their gaze change, everything inside of him is yelling to grab (Y/N) and never let go. Their gaze... Oh, he knows that look.
That look on their eyes... It wasn't fear, it wasn't anger, it wasn't even hate. It was something dull, dull and lifeless, almost pleading for him to...
He presses his masked face against them. The only thought of having their blood on him makes him feel weird. Seeing (Y/N), who's usually composed, strong willed and straight up wild when it comes to the safety of their sister, so weak and broken in his arms, made the man feel very odd, a nasty and unpleasant type of odd.
—"...You."—
They grumble through gritted teeth as they press their forhead against his shoulder, as if really trying to hide their face.
—"I hate you..."—
He can feel (Y/N)'s fist collide with his back. Though the impact wasn't weak at all, it wasn't enough to make Michael let go, all the opposite, he only brought them closer.
—"I hate you."—
They repeat a bit lounder, tone cold yet broken.
—"Why do you still tormenting me? Why?... Why don't you just... J-Just..."—
Their voice breaks at the end of the sentence and is replaced by more cries. The punches soon ceased too, their hand slowly sliding off Michael's back. Soon their sobs began to quiet down and turn into ragged uneven breaths. They are mad, at themselves, at this man, at the world, at fucking everything!... But what pisses them off the most is that this bastard, the main responsible of their mysery, the devil everyone knows for the atrocities he commited, he's... He's somehow comforting them... Genuinely comforting them...
—"Why are you doing this?..."—
Silence.
—"Why are you making it look like you care?..."—
Because he does.
—"Why?... Why?"—
They kept repeating the same question over and over despite knowing that they will never get an answer. And to be fair, even if Michael could answer, he wouldn't. He doesn't know himself what he's doing or where this attachment came from or leads to, all he knows is that he desires to have (Y/N) close, hold into them like a predator into it's pray and never ever let go. But even with this unholy obsession, he can't deny the strange sense of comfort and completion (Y/N) brings him just by being around. Ever since (S/N) questioned him about his intentions and the strange attachment with the older sibling, he couldn't unsee or deny the way they make him feel. And even when they say they hate him, glare at him, try to hurt him... Even after all these unwelcoming actions, he just can't stop himself from wanting them around, from wanting them...
The two remain like this for a long time, even after (Y/N) stopped talking and crying they didn't move.
(Y/N) was a mess, both emotionally and mentally, yet they couldn't deny the fact of feeling a tiny bit better after letting it all out. Michael's grip on them remained tight, strong like steel, impossible to escape. It was like a cage... But a very needed cage.
No matter how much they try to deny it, deep down (Y/N) knows that they needed this, they needed someone to hold them tight as they spit all their concerns, pain and frustrations out. But that means nothing, that doesn't change the way they view Michael. Though his gesture is laudable, how do they know it's genuine? How do they know he's not taking advantage of them? Could this be his attempt to deceive them? Make them emotionaly dependent? And for what?... For what?!
What does he want from them for fuck's sake?!
They take one last deep breath, shuting down the swarm of thoughts and questions and finally calming down enough to speak properly.
—"Alright... I'm better, a bit better."—
But Michael made no movements, his grip remained strong.
They sigh again, a bit more annoyed.
—"Michael, really. I'm okay now. I-"—
They tried to lift their hands up to push themselves away, but a sudden yelp came out when they moved their injured wrist too harshly, making them recoil and Michael to finally let go.
—"Okay-... I'm not okay."— you grumble as you hold your bandaged wrist closely, trying to soothe the throbing pain.
When the ache somehow stabilized and (Y/N) looked up at Michael again, they were surprised to see him holding their car keys right in front of their face. They stare at the item a bit dumbfounded, questioning where the hell he wants them to go, until it eventually clicks.
They know what he wants them to do, and this is a golden oportunity to recieve propper help to their injury. But the anxiety and guilt of leaving their little sister alone, again, at night and with this man, is already eating them alive.
A couple of seconds of inactivity pass, and though (Y/N) was taking quite some time to decide, Michael remained stoic as a statue, patiently waiting for them to decide.
—"I..."— you sigh again, but with more determination. —"Nevermind. You're right, I need to go."—
They dry off the remaining tears on their face with a single rough wipe with their forearm. They have to quit crying, they embarassed themselves enough by having a meltdown in front of this bastart, which apparently was so bad and pity that he had to comfort them. Beside, they must stay strong, not just for their own sake but also for (S/N).
They reach for the key, but don't take it right away.
—"The terms are the same i suppose. I stay quiet about you and you don't disturb my sister, yes?"—
There is no movements from the man. Despite not seeing his eyes, (Y/N) had a gut feeling that he understood and accepted the deal. They mutter a quiet 'okay' before eventually taking the keys, without any issue suprisingly. Once all was settled, the older sibling steps aside but doesn't go towards the front door right away, instead they walk towards the stairs.
—"I'll make a quick check on (S/N) before I go, okay?"— you quickly explain before going up, not bothering to see if he did anything in response or not.
Suprisingly, Michael doesn't follow them, not this time. He remained at the bottom with his head turned towards the staircase.
To some the attention and worry (Y/N) shows for their little sister may seem overwhelming, but for Michael it is something to admire. They always place the little one in front of their own needs and safety, always checking on her and making sure she's safe and happy. Even after he came into their life, he saw the ammount of effort (Y/N) had always put into mantaining (S/N) away from him, to keep her hopes strong and always mantain that happy smile despite knowing it will dissappear as soon as he comes near...
(Y/N) is a good sibling, a very good and caring sibling. Is that how Judith could've been with him if given a chance? Would she ever made the same effort to treat him the way (Y/N) treats their little one? Would he be able to be as good to Angel? Was it too much to ask for her to remember him, to know who he is, to know her big brother was back home and be together as family ones again? Was it really so much to ask?...
"I wanna help you..."
"...But I don't know how..."
"...I wanna help you... But I don't know how..."
"...I wanna help you, but I don't..."
"YOU MOTHER FUCKER!"
Something inside of his chest squeezed uncomfortably, painfuly almost. He still remember these words and the way 'boo' screamed at him and the hate in her voice. It hurts, it hurts so much every time he remembers... He doesn't like the pain, it upsets him. Just why couldn't she recognize him?... What should he have done for that night to turn out different?...
The sound of footsteps softly going down the stair broke his train of thoughts.
—"Good news, (S/N) is still asleep. Doubt she will wake up until sunrise but I wouldn't go upstairs anyways, that girl sure wakes up from the randomest noises."— you comment quite casually.
However, they suddenly stop in their tracks when they reached the bottom and noticed that Michael wasn't following them with his gaze. A tiny detail that threw them off quite a lot.
—"...Are you alright?"—
The question made the tall man pause and realize that his hands were tightly clutched into fists. He slowly relaxes them, though an unpleasant aftertaste in his mouth and the general tension in his body remained.
Despite not having a clear answer, (Y/N) gives him a somehow knowledgeable look.
—"Remembered something bad?"—
He stays unresponsive for a moment, until he moves his head, giving a slow and barely noticible nod.
(Y/N) of course got a tag surprised, since it's the very first time Michael actually does something to answer them instead of staring blankly and let them figure out the message on their own. They don't focus on the sudden gesture though, instead they let out a small hum as they nod as well.
—"It happens... I too remember things I don't want to, a pretty nasty feeling gotta say."—
No answer.
(Y/N) seemed like they wanted to say more things, they decided against it and instead resumed their walk towards the front door. They stop to put some shoes and jacket, not minding too much the fact of them wearing pijamas. But before exiting, they look back at Michael's tall figure staring at them from the darkness, his pale masked face being the only visible feature.
—"I'll do my best to return before dawn, but no promisses."—
No reaction from the man, as expected.
They turn around and open the front door and pause again.
—"...Thank you, Michael."—
And after these words, they finaly step outside and softly close the door.
The masked man only tilted his head at this last sentence. Though these were three very simple words, he couldn't ignore how they affected him.
And the tension and ache from his memories were now completely gone, as if these bad feelings never came in the first place...
. . .
After a long wait and a ton of scolding from the doctors for neglecting their sleep and health, (Y/N) was finally driving back home. Luckly their wrist is healing fine, the sourse of the pain were the bad placement of the bandages and the overuse of their injured hand. Though they don't remember all the details, it seems like they'll be okay.
It was already dawn and the sun was slowly raising. However, they weren't too concerned, it was still early and there is no way (S/N) is awake, that girl sure enjoys lazy mornings after all.
And even after arriving home everything seemed in order, no weird vibes coming out the building and no funny feelings in their gut.
But the second they enter and close the front door...
—"(Y/N)!"—
A happy joyful voice exclaimed their name before something small launched at them into a hug with enough force to knock out some oxygen out of them. Nevertheless, the older sibling miraculously manages to mantain the footing and catch the little girl in a hug.
—"(S/N)?! How long you've been awake?!"— you ask in surprise and concern.
—"Oh... Uh..."— she thinks while poking her cheek with her finger. —"I think the little arrow on the clock was pointing at the number 5."— she innocently replies.
—"You've been awake since 5 of the morning?!"—you almost exclaim as you kneel down and take her hands. —"Are you okay? Were you scared? Did you know I was at the hospital? Did Michael do anything to you?"—
As an answer to their waterfall of question, the little girl childishly giggles.
—"It was all okay! But... I did get a tiny bit scared when I woke up and you weren't in the house, I though my nightmate of you dissappearing became true!... But then I saw Michael, and he explained that you went to see a doctor!"—
—"Michael... Explained?"— you arch your brow.
As soon as that question left their mouth, the tall man appeared at the entrance of the living room with a small toy ambulance in his hand.
—"Oh..."— you blink as you stare at the small item. —"I... I guess that makes sense how he did it."— you momentarily relax, but suddenly tense up again as you redirect your gaze to your sister. —"But seriously are you okay? Were you out your room this whole time?"—
The little girl shrinks in her place a bit flustered and embarrassed.
—"Well... I know you said last time not to exit my room when I had to stay with Michael, I swear I tried to follow your request! But..."— she bites her lip as she shrinks more. —"Please don't be mad, but I was just too scared to stay up there. You never left at night before! And... And when mom and dad left it was night too and-... And-..."— she starts hiccuping a bit by the end.
The little girl is interrupted when her sibling suddenly hugs her, holding her in a tight, secure and loving embrace.
—"Oh songbird, no... I'm so sorry if I came harsh on you, there is no way I can be mad at you for feeling scared for me."— you say as you place your head over hers. —"The first time I left, I was scared too... I was scared that when I come back you wouldn't be here..."—
A small gasp escaped the little girl and she quickly leans back to face her sibling.
—"You have nightmares of me disappearing too?!"— she asks quite surprised.
—"Yeah, I do."— you reply softly. —"Ever since I managed to convince the old ugly people to let me keep you, I sometimes have nightmares where they take you away."—
(S/N) frowns a bit, her childish mind not expecting that her usually super brave and calm sibling had such fears and concerns.
—"So please, don't feel bad, okay? Let's just be happy and celebrate that I made it home safely and you didn't disappear, yes?"—
—"Yeah... Yeah you're right!"— she exclaims, her happy-go-lucky tone returning. —"And Michael actually wasn't that bad! Though I wasn't in my room we still did our own things! Like, I presented him my toy dinosaurs while he stayed in thaaaaat corner over there and listened."—
—"Uh-huh..."— you mutter quietly as you glance at the tall man, who only tilted his head.
Man, if what the little girl is saying is true, then (Y/N) definetely owes Myers a medal for handling their sister's speech. Don't get them wrong, they love (S/N) to death and absolutely adore when she shares her interests and stories she invented about her toys or for their 'owl siblings' series! But sometimes she may get a bit too engaged with it.
Wait... Could that mean that Michael is being genuine with-.
—"And so... (Y/N)."—
(S/N) voice calling them snapped the older sibling back to reality.
—"About the 'celebrate' thingy..."— she says, suddenly shy.
—"You want me to make a cake, aren't you?"— you throw her an unimpressed look.
—"Yes!"— she giggles as she plays with her fingers. —"The cherry one, pretty please?"—
(Y/N) only rolls their eyes with a smile as they stand up and start taking off their jacket and shoes.
—"I guess I could make us a cake, remember the ingredients we need?"—
The little girl practically ignites in joy.
—"Yes! Yes I remember! Let me see if we have the all!"— she hurriedly says the last part before running into the kitchen.
The older sibling only chuckled as they finish undressing. They start going towards the kitchen but stopped right at the entrance, eyes already placed on the tall man.
—"Have you ever tried a cherry chip cake?"— you suddenly ask after a short pause.
The man slowly tilts his head to the other side.
—"I'll take it as a no. I'll make enough for you to have some too."— you pause. —"Don't get me wrong, it doesn't mean I trust you or enjoy having you around, but... I definetely owe it to you, for keeping an eye on (S/N) and such, and... And for what you did tonight."— you throw him a tiny smile before walking into the kitchen.
Michael didn't follow, not yet. His mind kept repeating that last image of (Y/N) over and over, from their suprisingly calm voice to the soft look in their eyes. But what would make his breath shake was the smile. It wasn't fake, it wasn't nervous, it wasn't out of politeness... It was a genuine, small yet sencere, dedicated to him and him only smile.
He lowers his gaze and places his hand on his chest, gripping the fabric of his coverals tightly.
It's hard to describe what exactly this set of emotions is, it all feels new. All he knows is that he suddenly feels warmth, a very soft and pleasant type of warmth...
It feels very familiar... Yet so distant and forgoten... As if he haven't experience these emotions for a long, long time...
...
...Happy.
He feels happy.
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changetyre · 1 month
Text
Not like this (P3) II Charles Leclerc x Reader (Mafia AU)
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SUMMARY: After losing everything you seek out your biggest and longest-standing enemy to finish it all.
WARNING: Violence, blood, mentions of death
A/N: This one's also short but I've been super busy and haven't had much time to write so this was the best I could do ;(
"For the record, I don't think this is a good idea" Charles spoke as he drove through the familiar streets at night, the two cars behind him containing some of his own men the only thing in sight. 
"You invited yourself so you don't get to opine." You refuted.
 "This is my car, you're carrying my guns and wearing clothes that I bought you I think I have enough reason to opine." Charles bit back. 
"No one told you to let me live...in fact, I told you to kill me so you chose that yourself-" You were going to argue. 
"Shut up we're here." Charles interrupted you before you could carry on. 
You saw him drive into a hidden road that led to your house which you believed only very few people knew about not including him. "How did you?" You turned to him as he continued driving. 
Charles smirked but kept his eyes on the road. "You're not the only sneaky one here." 
"Stop the car here, we'll have to walk the rest of the way if we want to go unnoticed." You chose to ignore his previous comment as you were coming closer to your estate.
You both got out of the car and stayed close to the tree line as you approached the house, Charles's men surrounding the other side of the estate in case they saw anything. 
"Why the fuck do you need this much land," Charles complained as he wiped some sweat off his forehead from how long you'd been walking. 
"More space more control, more people less possibility of someone entering without me knowing...more control." You once again repeated his own words adjusting them slightly earning a glare from him. 
"Well obviously that logic didn't work...did it?" Charles also used your own words against you but you had to admit it hurt more than you'd imagined. 
Charles noticed how you found no humor in his words instead clearing your throat to disguise the knot that intended to build in it. 
"Obviously not." You said in a volume that Charles wouldn't have heard if the silence around you hadn't been so significant. 
You were finally coming up on the house and your breath hitched at the bodies you could see laying by the stairs leading up to the main door. 
"Are they-" But before Charles could finish asking you'd already run up the closest body. 
"Oh my god Ava." You placed your hand on the woman's cheek who lay lifeless right in front of you. 
Charles kept a look out at your surroundings making sure nobody was watching now that you were in plain sight and luckily the place seemed to have been abandoned after the attack. 
You then quickly moved on to the next bodies by the stairs. "Elijah...Michael." You closed their eyes saying a small prayer hoping they'd found rest. 
"You knew all of their names?" Charles asked in a quiet tone not wanting to disturb the silence. 
"There might've been a lot of people working for me...but they were all family. Every single one of them." Charles didn't miss the way a tear fell before you wiped your eyes quickly. 
You continued your way into the house in the same silence as before not taking it for granted that you hadn't seen or heard anyone around so far. Inside it was worse than outside, with bodies everywhere it was impossible not to step on the blood that had filled the once-white floors. 
Charles let you take your time noticing the way you struggled to continue without at least sparing a glance at the men and women who only a few hours before were guarding you. 
"I'm-" Charles wasn't sure what to say but maybe letting you hear he was sorry for you would make it better except he didn't get the opportunity. 
"Let's go upstairs." You shut him down before he could even get a word in. 
Charles could see his men come in from the back door and signaled for them to have a look around downstairs to which they happily obliged. He followed you upstairs as you moved through the space with ease until arriving at what he would assume was your room. 
He watched as your hand dropped to your side, the gun you held almost slipping from your grasp as you took in the state of your once sacred space but even more so the woman who lay dead by the foot of your bloodied bed. 
It took him completely by surprise when you dropped to your knees in front of the woman and saw how your body shook with the tears you were finally letting escape. 
Charles didn't know what to do so simply stepped closer hoping you were able to feel his presence wondering if it had all become too much or if this had been someone truly special. 
"Her name was Liz- Elizabeth." You began. "She...she was like a mother to me and-" the knot in your throat stopped you for a second. "She helped me escape. She ran to my room as soon as she heard the attack and found me trying to get my guns to fight back but-" your tears increased as you remembered. "She told me to go. She said they could handle it and that I should go." You rested your forehead against Elizabeth in tears. "I knew what would happen and I still left." 
Charles wasn't sure what he was feeling but he had a sudden urge to hug you an urge he would've acted upon if it hadn't been for his men running into the room. 
"Gens arrivent." They whispered, guns drawn. 
"We have to go c,mon." Charles lowered himself to your level. 
You clutched Elizabeth a little harder before placing a kiss on her cold and colorless cheek and leaving her behind. 
"Someone's coming, there's cars," Charles whispered to you as he could see the headlights through the window of her room.
"Come." You took his hand dragging him with you. 
You entered your bathroom and Charles was convinced you had gone insane if it hadn't been for the fact that you pulled your whole bathroom sink and counter out to reveal a hidden passage. 
"What the-" He was impressed. 
His men ran through and ahead but Charles stared at the door in awe. 
"Hurry!" You whispered pushing him in before following yourself and closing the door behind you. 
As soon as she shut the door the dark passage illuminated revealing a long and dark corridor. "This is how I escaped." 
"You walked all the way from here to my place with a gunshot wound through your stomach," Charles asked as you began to walk through the passage. 
"Adrenaline can make you do crazy things." You responded not bothering to look back at him. 
"Why exactly did you go to my place?" Charles rushed to catch up to you. 
"I told you, I wanted you to kill me." You once again avoided his eyes. 
"If you wanted to die you would've simply let yourself bleed out" Charles grabbed your arm stopping you from walking. 
"Wouldn't have been an honorable death." You finally faced him. 
"The way I plan to kill you isn't either" You didn't respond and instead there were a few seconds of silence between you both before Charles continued. "so why?"
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suguwuus · 4 months
Text
★ love bites
*sighs* i miss my man... also will get started on reqs after i post pretty impressive, huh? already set on rewriting hehe
wc: 870
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"Have you noticed Michael's hands?"
"They're kinda green honestly, why?"
"That's my fault."
You smacked your boyfriend's arm as he giggled, sounding pleased with himself as he snickered about his most recent prank. Though there was not much reason to be suppressing your noises, as he insisted you sit at the farthest row at the campfire and Michael was leading the singalong anyway so he wouldn't have heard you at all. Unless one of you pushed the other off the log you were sitting on, which could happen anytime. That would've definitely caught more than just Michael's attention.
Luckily no pushing was involved, at least not too much shoving. You whispered and flirted and told jokes and chatted there in the back row. Though you didn't have as much freedom as you would have had at the edge of the woods, you were glad you got to spend time with your boyfriend.
At some point you started rambling about your opinions on the latest counselors' meeting, but you couldn't focus. How could you when every time you looked to the side, you'd see Connor gazing at you like you hung the stars in the sky and rooted the mountains in the earth.?
Your cheeks hurt from smiling so widely and trying to resist it. You'd lose your train of thought every time he'd move an inch beside you. You could've sworn you had the biggest crush on him even after you confessed to each other, even after he said he liked you back, even after the dozen times he'd kissed you at just the right times in just the right ways.
"But that wouldn't be effective, right, because majority of the camp is kids, we wouldn't listen, it won't do much to stop us because we'll keep coming back to do it all over again—what?" You asked, catching him for the millionth time that night just watching you speak. You doubted any words were getting to that head of his as he took your hand.
"You're just damn pretty!" He mumbled, whisper-yelling as he kissed the back of your palm.
"Is it my fault?" You whispered in the same tone.
"Yes." He grinned cheekily, and you squeezed his fingers in response. A moment of silence passed, until he asked, "Can I bite you?"
"What?"
"Can I bite you?" He whispered, slightly louder this time.
"...Okay?"
He giggled, and then continued doing so like an excited child, pulling you closer until there was barely any space between you two. "So cute, sweetie, I love you, hehe, the cutest..." He mumbled words as he pressed kisses onto your skin. You found it endearing until he actually bit the skin on your forearm. Not that it hurt, you just didn't expect the feeling of his teeth on you.
You gasped, but didn't pull away. You watched as he kissed up your arm until he reached your hand, and then continued on each of your knuckles. He nipped at your fingertips with a big grin on his pretty face, and then went on his knees, pulling your legs to straddle his waist while you stayed on the log.
"Didn't think you'd be into this. You got an oral fixation? Or am I just too...sweet?" You started in a low voice as he kissed up your neck, his other hand going to knead your thighs. He nibbled at your neck, collarbones, kissed your cheeks, lips (and left bites on that, too), any exposed skin you were comfortable with him placing his mouth on out here in the open, concealed only by the darkness.
"That's really corny, baby. Maybe you should leave the comedies to me. Gosh, you know, if you weren't wearing long pants right now..."
"But you call me sweetie."
"Yeah."
"Yeah!" You went on, leaving him to his business as he continued, kissing over the spots he nibbled at. Eventually, he slowed down, taking both your hands and cupping his face with them. "Anyway, this is nice. again, unexpected, but it's forgiven because it's you. You think this would look weird if anyone caught us? Nah, I think it should be forgiven because it's you. Is this—what's the word? Cuteness aggression? That's probably what this is. Honestly, I'd prefer you give me a full body bear hug squeeze, but I guess I have no choice but to go to bed covered in—"
"Mhm."
"—Love bites," you finished, beaming at him.
One of his hands went to the small of your back, nudging you to come just a bit closer. Still rubbing circles into your skin, he chuckled. "Love bites? Those aren't love bites."
Your smile faded slightly. "They're not?"
"No?" He paused for a second, then laughed. "Sweetie, do you know what love bites actually are?"
"I don't...I used to think I did, but now, probably not. Wait, what are they? Connor!" You swatted his arm at how his teasing smile quickly grew into a snicker. "I didn't know, okay? I thought it was something else!"
He patted your side, mumbling an apology while holding in more chortles. His eyes glinted with the reflection of the bonfire before he said, "It's alright, N/N, I'll give you real ones next time."
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angled-blade · 1 year
Note
Omg Slashers with a super athletic reader? Preferably a runner and fucking outruns them? Perhaps gender neutral??
Slashers with an athletic reader
Slashers; Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer, Ghostface (Billy Loomis + Stu Macher), Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers (OG + RZ), Thomas Hewitt Warning(s): Vulgar language, deliberate mention of violence and murder. Type: Ambiguous | Headcanons
It’s safe to say that each of them had varied reactions.
• Billy Lenz
For the many years that Billy had remained to strike at the victims who live in the sorority home, not one of them did he expect to run from him. He also did not expect to encounter someone who was much more faster than he was. Billy initially thought that it was funny at first, recalling how none of the others did it, but it got him much more angrier after a couple of minutes.
— You had shoved the man with all your might, your dominant hand slapping the weapon out of his hands. A loud shatter ensued the moment it hit the ground, leaving the man in a temporary shock at your defiance against death—you could almost pinpoint when he became enraged.
“You pig bitch!” You could hear the man yell, his voice hoarse from having done so a good feet away.
You didn’t expect to get so far away from a killer who had been so careful with all his kills so far. Maybe he wasn’t right in the head, something that led to this disaster surely couldn’t be the work of a murderer who perfected his craft. You slowed down when his voice became softer the further you ran. You leaned against a tree, gulping down your anxiety as you looked around.
In front of you was the sight of a few houses, alongside a street you recognised—You’ve ran that far, so much so, that it had led you home. No wonder you couldn’t hear the angered man’s voice anymore.
“Thank god.” was your only response, quickly entering your home and locking it shut. You made quick work to clear your mind in some way, falling asleep despite your best efforts to remain alert. There you were, unaware of the now silent man’s stare.
The man’s gaze trailed onto your sleeping form from the window, before his attention moves onto the upper storey of your home.
It seemed you had an attic, too. —
Expect Billy right on your tail no matter how far you were from him, as he chases you down with bated breath.
• Bubba Sawyer
Bubba was used to the victims running away in an attempt to escape. Having you was, of course, difficult—you narrowly missed his lunges just by fraction. It had him throw a larger tantrum than before. Having you run about as carelessly as you did had him extremely anxious, the visual reminding him of his first runaway victim. 
— Bubba couldn’t handle the idea of you running away, really. It brings him back to those days in ’74, where that girl had escaped him. This was the third time in a row where you booked it to run, and yet another time for him to react on autopilot and cage you in his arms ever so tightly.
You kept screaming, your voice becoming scratchy and weak as you pleaded with Bubba—or anyone, really. He felt some form of remorse about it, letting you go quietly, which was an opportunity you took advantage of quickly as you dashed down the road.
All could have been well, maybe, until Nubbins dragged you back from your legs. Those screams returned and Bubba couldn’t do anything about it this time around.
Seeing how you returned to the Sawyer home, Bubba realised that he could catch you easily. If Nubbins could, he could do so as well. 
He stares at you, having heard the screams stop, his head tilted curiously. You stare back at him knowingly, seeming calm now that Nubbins and Drayton had left. 
Bubba realised now that he never really knew anything about you, even the life that you had before. You came here with nobody, so he had no idea why you didn’t escape as you did.
He doesn’t understand what reason it was that you returned to their territory, he’s curious, but you pose a threat to the Sawyers—that meant he had to keep you.
Oh, you stress him out. —
Expect him to be rougher when he does catch you, just because Bubba’s exhausted doesn’t mean that he would just let you get away.
• Ghostface
  • Billy Loomis
Sure, it was expected that the majority of Ghostface’s victims were to put up a little bit of a fight. He, however, has never anticipated to encounter someone who would have put up a similar fight as you did. You were on the track team, closely tied to Sidney in all sorts of ways. Though, it seemed as though you had other plans.
— ‘It’s expected. This is what you should expect every once in a while.’ Billy reminded himself, flicking his wrist as he took a moment to catch his breath. He has remained silent for this long, there is no way is he going to use his voice on you, seeing how you could easily escape—a benefit for being on track and field, he supposed—and tell the authorities that it was his voice. 
The more he repeated the thought in his mind, the more he felt angered at the little process that he has made getting everything over with you.
He called off on killing you tonight, deciding on planning how he could get rid of you in a lot more gruesome way. Maybe to taunt your team, he could always take polaroids of your dismembered legs and send them as ‘good luck’ gifts. To fuck around even more, maybe even sneak some pieces of you in their home—incriminating them instead.
He thought of many more ways to ruin you, a grin hidden by his mask as he disappeared into the thick of the forest, retracing his steps back home as he snuck back in by the window. He’s gotta greet Stu tonight about the change in plans. 
Billy honestly wanted to be back at your home, your blood on the floor as the life drained from your eyes as you gasped for air. He should try strangling you, just like Stu did with rope last Christmas.
Yeah, some of the victims picked by the two are bound to be better runners than others, but fuck were you annoying. —
Expect a more sadistic Ghostface hunting you down, the dagger in his hand with every swing to match your pace.
  • Stu Macher
Stu finds it exhilarating, really. Someone is actually smart enough to leave—and even better, is able to outrun him! His victims, to an extent, did escape his clutches once or twice. Though, none of those on his hit-list ever made it out alive by the end of the night—not until you, which has you promoted as his favourite chase out of practically every victim he’s gotten.
— Stu stared at your running figure, feeling giddy once more. There you go, his favourite victim! If he felt the need to put in any effort to really kill you, he would have, but how could he resist tasting the fear that your body exuded in waves? 
Those teary eyes you had when you were cornered? The glint of hope that resolved itself in your eyes when you found a route to escape? Oh, all your miniscule expressions has him excited, seeing how you restrict yourself from showing too much to Ghostface, but plenty to him.
The duality interests him a whole lot. He likes seeing the contortions of every muscle that has you tensing up when he reenacts movement that he had done on one of those very nights—just to taunt you, but to also see how you’d react and if you were smart enough to make connections.
He’s lost interest in killing you, really! Maybe he could show you a few parts of your friends as tokens of appreciation for participating in their game and playing it so well.
Stu honestly wanted to see you shatter before him; be it on these nights he visits you as Ghostface, or you breaking down in school and turning to him for comfort.
Oh, he can’t wait. —
Expect a rather playful Ghostface greeting you, the dagger’s blade lightly nicking you a few times each time he caught up to you.
• Jason Voorhees
Jason had run-aways often, the window of opportunity being possible with him being incapacitated beforehand, though it was always temporary. Nothing of the sort happened, and yet he was still unable to get rid of you. You had the ability to escape him and live to tell the tale, why would you return to him?
— Jason’s good eye trained on you as he walked in large, domineering strides, following you from a much closer distance. Despite that, he remained ever so silent, making you almost unsure of how close you were to escape. 
How the hell were you supposed to tell the police department? A masked killer who looked eerily to the infamous Jason Voorhees killed your friend and was after you? How were you going to explain to them why you were in Camp Crystal Lake? Were you supposed to leave out some details? Leave out the fact that you were in there, maybe, and that you were concerned for a friend?
Fuck, thinking while running was not a good idea. You got sidetracked and lost sight of where you were headed along the way. You were already in the thick of the forest, the sight of a road from afar one that you focused on in an instant. 
You gulped down your fear, not wanting to face the wrath of the killer that you and your friend had unknowingly incurred. 
You saw the road become closer, until you were a few meters away. You felt relief reach your aching muscles, only for them to tense up once more.
A large hand, its skin gray and rough, gripped onto your dominant wrist. You could only let out a wail as he drug you back, his nail digging into your skin as a warning. —
Expect an extremely focused Jason for every time that he catches a glimpse of you, a feeling washing over him with each time that he follows you.
• Michael Myers
  • ’78/OG
OG expected you to do so after you (quickly, he noticed) realised that he was no average Halloween participant. He, however, did not expect you to disappear from his sight as quickly as you did. He will (just barely, that he ignored) catch a glimpse of you in the very distance, a rush of energy flowing through him as if he could not wait to catch you.
— You couldn’t see the man anywhere once you had ran from the building, fear still present in your eyes as you kept looking around. Paranoia still stuck with you as you made a few changes in your path, taking multiple shortcuts and longer routes to throw the killer off your path. 
Surely that would confuse the masked male who, without you realising, had been closely following you. His steps matched yours, though a lot more quieter as your shoes crushed the dead leaves beneath you. 
You were different to him, your appearance one that he took to committing to his memory if you happen to break into a sprint as you did when you realised who he was the first time around.
You were passing these houses now, the candles that were in those carved pumpkins still lit. Their presence illuminated the now dead streets of Haddonfield, shedding light onto the killer who acknowledged the fact that you stopped walking. 
After hearing another set of footsteps, you turned to see the man once again—this time around, you did not choose to hesitate. This was a matter of life and death, after all.
And so, the chase was on. —
Expect a curious OG to be unrelenting as he stalks you down, the idea of killing you a thought he now had abandoned out of intrigue.
  • RZ
Maybe it was the fact that RZ had developed a little more than his original counterpart, patience is not a word that can be associated with this killer. The longer the victim lives, the more aggressive RZ becomes in response. The very fact that you remain to graze past the inevitability of death, the more destruction is caused by him in its wake.
— You heard the woman’s scream as the boogeyman struck her, the sheathing sound of a blade intercepting her chest, tearing through her flesh—it even hit bone, the harrowing echo of cracks sounding throughout the entire room—you felt horror intercept your very being, heartbeat at a state of unease as it pounded against your chest.
He killed her as if he was gutting her like a fish. You felt your breath quicken, catching the attention of the killer. You couldn’t hear his footsteps; they were far too quiet to hear over the rush of thoughts that overtook your mind. 
Only when you heard his heavy breathing, you reacted on autopilot. You ran, and ran. Away from that house, away from the street he was at.
You were only a passerby—not even someone he was targeting, so why was it that he felt more rage toward you running away? 
You were nosy, that’s what. You sat through the woman’s death and did nothing. Did you hear of the woman’s words? How long? The thoughts plagued his mind, more rage flowing through as he stared at your smaller figure from a good distance away, following you now.
At home at last, you relaxed, unaware of the man standing on the porch by your backdoor.
He recognised your face now, you won’t get away from him so soon. —
Expect a more aggravated RZ hunting you down in the nth chase that you two have been caught in. He remains unstoppable, curious to see you break.
• Thomas Hewitt
Thomas supposed that with time—there had to be people that will outrun him and book it from Texas, never to return to taunt the folk there. You kept returning, much to the Hewitt family’s chagrin. Thomas felt on edge whenever you were visible in town—even if you couldn’t see him—preparing to catch you once and for all.
— “Oh, shit.” Thomas stood before you, his eyes trained on you as he remained still. You felt your body tense, though you tried to offer a sheepish grin. You knew how to get out of this alive—plus, he didn’t bring his chainsaw along this time around.
“This is a bad time to–shit, why the fuck are you everywhere? I just wanted to—” You were cut off with a snarl. A warning you knew not to mess with. You backed away, unsure of what that was to imply for you. Was he thinking about butchering you? Hanging you on the hook as he skinned you?
You couldn’t tell, nor could you make a coherent thought as he raises his hands slightly to abdomen level, seemingly in preparation to do something. You turned on your heel and ran, even if the hot Texas heat burned against your back, your lungs burning now with the uncomfortable warmth that dried your throat.
You were running on the road now, the gravel brushing against your beaten down shoes as you kept running. The heat, of course, became one that was your enemy. You weren’t thinking ahead, nor were you able to grasp how far out you were in the state. 
Collapsing, a figure neared your limp body. You gasp as hands hoisted you right up to land against their broad shoulders, the wind having been knocked out from your throat. You began to whimper as you two made the long journey back to that damn house.
A thought settled in your mind and had you teary eyed, as you gave into this situation helplessly.
You were never leaving this place, weren’t you? —
Expect a determined Thomas whenever he sees you, though, no matter how long it will take to catch you; he’d always catch you.
Hey! I hope you enjoyed this piece and that it fulfilled your request!! Thank you to all the many requests that have ended up in my inbox alongside the occasional asks! I am ecstatic at the fact that you all enjoy my work!! (: Again, please reblog this post! I really appreciate it. Thank you again for reading this, have a great day/night!! (:
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rocksandboulders · 7 months
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so i was thinking about a bearded and longer-haired s3 aziraphale (as one does), maybe even with michael sheen's greys and silvers, and i asked myself "what reason would aziraphale have for growing his hair? or letting it change to a different color?"
then i thought about it a little more.
what if he starts letting it grow because he misses humanity, and so letting his corporeal body change naturally comforts him?
because the thing is aziraphales hair doesn't change nearly ever. of course, there is the odd mutton chop or sideburn, but other than that he just maintains the same length and styles it differently.
thinking.
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sparkbeast20 · 8 months
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Theories for WHB
These are purely speculative and base on what we got from the official site, character sheets, etc.
Lucifer and "Some of the devils from Paradise Lost" are Fallen angels
Bathin and Buer despite being or former of Paradise Lost are not Fallen angels.
Morax and Marbas both lose an eye, which judging from we saw from the angels. They all have one eye different or hidden, because that eye is a sign that they are affiliated to Heaven, best example is Michael's eye.
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The only that holds theory back is that Marbas has his missing eye on his left, not right.
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Also... That means that Lucifer's design might have him with an eyepatch or his bangs is covering it.
Belphegor's Strain/Distant Relationship with the other kings
This is purely speculative because of his placement in the Gacha screen.
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Like I and many others assume the dummy at the back is Lucifer, but with closer look, Lucifer's sigil is on the dummy next to Satan and Leviathan.
This is gut feeling and with the knowledge that Belphegor rebel against heaven he didn't want to work. That Maybe they use that part of his lore but with the kings. Like he did something that made the other kings distrust him in the past.
The connect of Solomon "Death/Disappearance" to Beelzebub's leaving Avisos/Abyssos.
The only thing that hold this theory together is the date/year it all happened. B.C. 931
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The Possible of Andrealphus' family and friends isn't really dead
Thanks to @d34dlysinner for bringing to my attention.
So in the missing Solomon teaser, the devil crossed out might be Andrealphus' friends and family.
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And with knowing that Raphael is the angel in this post, it make sense!
But what I'm thinking is that... Raphael might not killed them, and Andrealphus assume that they might be dead, but what if they were turned into angels.
This would be more painful for Andrealphus if he's being killing angels and he might've killed his own friends and family.
The Final Temptation is the reason the other three will reveal themselves to MC
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So, from what we've seen, the main goal of "Season 1" is breaking the contact with the 72 nobles/devils. But what I was wondering is that they never once mention about the Final temptation concept in any of the vids about the story and game play/system.
And this made me think... what if the Final Temptation mention in the app stores version was a hint of plot of a future story in the game.
And I'll even go out and say that this might be their way to introduce the other three sins/kings.
Like, I was curious is to why the other kings haven't been revealed yet when we see some of their nobles.
Then I had a thought, maybe they didn't want to get involve with MC just yet, but as soon as the idea of the Final Temptation was mention they thought that maybe its time to meet MC.
So here's how I think it'll go.
MC finish all 72 devils contracts and even it pains the kings and nobles, MC has to go back to the human.
But even with their power is fully unlocked, it's still not enough to win or end the war.
So some of them tried to look for a different way to end the war and that's how they stumble upon the Final temptation. Or one of the other kings (Lucifer, Asmodeus or Belphegor) brought this to the other four kings.
And there we have a plot for Season 2 :D
The breaking of the contract required both party (MC and said Nobles) feel mutual or has strong feelings
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Now, this is just me and my thoughts on this moment with Zagan.
Here's a thing, I have no problem with Sitri calling us as Solomon, because he at least knows that we are our own person.
While with Zagan... He compare us with Solomon.
Now, here's my theory with this... What if when MC and Zagan try to break his contract is because Zagan doesn't have real feels or doesn't see MC as someone to respect.
So when he and MC tried to figure out what's the reasoning, they get to know each other better and there, Zagan is MC as their own person.
Thus, when they tried it again and this time it works.
This also give a reason why MC can't just go around and breaking the contracts, it gives the other nobles a chance to develop and make the story interesting.
So far, this is all my theories for now, and there are some I missed because I forgot about it or I missed it completely.
You guys can share your thoughts on these :D
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anjelicawrites · 4 months
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Cringefail Throuple 💡
Since Michael and Reader had to go back home for Christmas, they rush back to Oxford to celebrate the new year with Billy. Lots of alcohol, silliness, and sex occurs.
Beloved Cringefail Throuple💡 anon, have I told you how much I love your brain?
NSFW and 18+ only under the cut!
Warnings (kissing, biting, scratching, fingering, threesome, anal, p in v sex, anal fingering, overstimulation, squirting).
It all would have been better if you could have access your respective colleges, alas they're closed until the holidays are over, which forces you and Michael to sneak into Billy's flat to doll yourseves up for New Year's eve. Billy, of course, doesn't know, he thinks you two are celebrating at home, with your families and will be back before the new term starts. This had been the plan, then you and Michael missed your puppy boyfriend too much to wait and your heart hurt too much at the thought of him alone on New Year's Eve as well. And here you are, back to Oxford, ready to have fun, and sex.
When you, finally, emerge from the bathroom, you've gone full goth mode: black make up, corset, fishnet stocking and high heels. Michael stares at you with his mouth hanging, eyes shamelessly on your barely covered cleavage.
"Maybe we should stay in. Wait for Billy here."
He's not drooling, but might as well be. As he stalks towards you, he can feel his cock growing in his pants: maybe you'll help him with that? Lend him a quick hand?
"No, no, no, no, Mr. Gavey. We're here for a reason." You stop his advance with a hand on his chest. "We could have a little head start. It wouldn't be the first time." Michael growls, trying to state his dominance.
Your fingers cupping his growing erection shatter any form of control he's trying to assert over you.
"We're going to go to the pub and wait for midnight there. Then, only then, we'll go home and fuck the first day of the new year away."
Michael's eyes almost cross when the pressure around his cock grows; as dominant as he is, he loves when you take the lead and make him behave, makes it all the sweeter when he punishes you for it.
When you two arrive at the pub, there's already loads of people ready to spend the night, groups of friends singing drunkenly over the muted TV. How you and Michael manage to find a small table is a miracle, so is the fact that said table is in a small nook, so that Billy can't see you, not yet.
You two have to sit very close to one another, pinned as you are between two loud groups of people and Michael can't pass the occasion to trail his hand under your, admittedly, short skirt.
"Don't." You chastise him "What? I don't know where I'm supposed to put my hand. We're a little pressed here." He says with a smirk. "You think you are so smart, are you?" You cross your lags and block his advance. "I am." He uses his trapped hand to slide you and the chair closer to himself. "And you will pay for this."
You feel the heath of his words spreading all over your body: you can't wait.
"Promises, promises." You murmur against his ear.
You yelp when his trapped hand curls cruelly on the meat of your tight, the pitiful sound you've just made drowned by the voices around you.
"You're such a bastard, Gavey." "And you love me all the more for it." Michael has to crane his neck to see the counter. "He's back!"
You can't see Billy from your position, you can imagine he's returned from the storage room and it's your time to shine.
You stand up and adjust your ridiculous short skirt, before you saunter to the counter, where your other boyfriend is; you can feel Michael's eyes on your skin, you burn with his desire. Knowing that he wants and needs you makes you wet, that you can reduce his powerful mind to mush makes you ride the biggest power high of your life.
"Hello gorgeous." You position yourself so that your cleavage is in full view of Billy, who stutters and blushes when he sees it. "Two beers, please?"
You laugh when he doesn't move, doesn't speak, just stares at your breasts: have you broken him?
The spell you've put him under breaks when the other server tells Billy to get a grip on himself and he blushes even more, his big blue eyes finally traveling to your face.
"Hi handsome." You repeat. "How? Why? Is Michael here as well?" "Yes, baby. He's thirsty and hungry as well, not for food, though."
If self combustion were possible, your poor Billy would have burnt on the spot: you two are back and all his need for you two explodes in his loins, his cock stirring in his jeans.
"We'll be at the table nestled in the corner." You say and wink, swaying your hips as you walk back, beers in hand.
Thankfully there's too much noise and people for Billy's colleague to truly notice your interaction or the fact that he's far too willing to go around the tables to collect the empty glasses and plates and that he takes a bit too much time whenever he disappears where the table in the nook is, only to reemerge dazed, having being kissed senseless by you and Michael every single time.
When midnight approaches, you and Michael manage to grab Billy, so that you three can be together when the clock on the telly strikes twelve. All the people around you are too busy celebrating, to notice the passionate kiss you three share at the far end of the pub.
No one is surprised when you two wait for Billy, at the pub you and Michael are known to be his friends and have accompanied him home countless times, the only difference is that you two are drinking shots with the staff, this time, whilst the pub gets closed for the night.
How you three make it home is a miracle, full as you three are with alcohol, swaying as you walk to Billy's apartment.
"How long are you going to stay?" He manages to ask in between kisses. "Until the term starts." Michael answers, his hand grabbing Billy's arse. "We'll need more condoms, then." It's the answer he receives.
The three of you might be drenched in alcohol, yet your combined libidos aren't affected, the kisses shared on the way home have only turned you three on even more: you're wet and loose already, your boys hard in their trousers.
You feel their hands on your body when the door of the flat closes, Michael's hands on your breasts, his lips on your nape, Billy on his knees, face buried under your skirt. You moan at the double sensation, Billy's mouth on your clothed cunt, Michael's fingers pinching your nipples over the thin shirt you've been wearing under the corset.
You three undress sloppily, hands in the way, teeth biting the skin revealed. You barely manage to get to the bed, clothes left everywhere, you lover's fingers buried in your cunt, your hands jacking their cocks.
You three fall in a heap on the mattress, kissing, biting, licking, hands exploring, you between your lovers, their teeth on your skin, their fingers fucking your hole and pinching your clit until you come with a whine. You find yourself on your back, legs over Billy's arms, his cock pushing into your pulsating cunt, grunts of pleasure at how tight your muscles are clenching around his erection, your whines of overstimulation drowned by his moans of pleasure as Michael's fingers fuck against his prostate, Billy's cock fucking you following the rhythm the other has imposed.
Billy buries himself inside your cunt when Michael's cock head starts entering him.
"You haven't been playing with yourself." You hear Michael grunt.
Billy's answer is a moan of pleasure, his face hidden against the side of your neck.
"It means I have to fuck you open again."
You can feel the short, deep pushes of Michael's cock as he moves Billy's hips to follow his movements, Billy's moans and whines of pleasure as he tries to move, to push back, but he's stopped by Michael's hands on his hips. Under them, you're writhing and begging, your cunt still reeling from the previous orgasm sends shock waves of pain and pleasure, your clit fires under the pressure of Billy's hipbone, your muscles clench almost painfully around his manhood, you lovers's grunts of pleasure are all you hear, until Billy whips his head back and comes with a shout.
He's trembling over you, his cock still hard inside your hole fucks you faster, now that Michael can push freely inside of him. You can only curl around Billy's body, your teeth biting his shoulder savagely as he pistons inside of you and fucks himself on Michael's cock, your body taking the brunt of their lovemaking. Your hips desperately try to move away, the stimulation too much for your poor body, yet your orgasm crests and crests, until you come, nails scratching you lovers' skins.
They keep fucking you and one another, Michael bends himself over Billy, so that you three can kiss messily, his hands now on your hips to keep you still, make you take it like you should. It hurts and drives you wild, your cunt a fist around Billy, your feet kicking at nothing in the vain attempt to escape the pleasure.
"I can't! I can't!"
You scream and beg, but Billy's cock drags against your G-spot again, the pressure of their bodies writhing over yours builds inside your belly, until it snaps and you squirt with a shout, your lovers following you with grunts and whines of pleasure.
You three are a trembling mess of limbs on the bed, of lips seeking skin, of nerves singing. You are not sure of who cleans the mess and covers your body with the duvet, you are just floating, riding the endorphins high, safe in your lovers's arms.
"Happy New Year."
Someone says in your ear, you can only babble something and curl tighter around whichever of your lovers is the closest: happy New Year indeed!
Cringefail Throuple taglist: @fan-goddess
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harrysfolklore · 1 year
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putting the christmas tree with harry !!
this is my entry for @watchmegetobsessed’s fanficmas 2022 !! i hope you like it 💕
if you want exclusive blurbs and tropes SUBSCRIBE TO MY PATREON
ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !
NAUGHTY LIST
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The calendar marked that it was December the 19, and you and Harry still didn't have a single Christmas decoration up in your house.
To be fair, you just spent the past month travelling across South America for Harry's last shows of 2022, but now after a quick stop in Los Angeles, you were finally home in London.
So after complaining about how your house looked so sad and dragging Harry to the nearest store to buy some decorations and a tree, your plan of the evening that consisted on getting your house in the Christmas mood started.
"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere you go." you and Harry sang along to Michael Bublé's voice that played on the speakers.
"Oh Christmas songs, I am your slave." Harry said as he passed you a couple of ornaments to hang on the tree.
"Did you just quote your tweet from 2014?" You turned around to look at him with a small smile, he was wearing a red jumper with brown corduroy pants and everything about him looked cuddly.
You loved being home with him.
"I don't know, maybe," he shrugged before continuing, "Mum called, wants to know if we're still coming this weekend."
"Of course we are, Christmas with the Styles for the second year, I wouldn't miss that for anything." you happily said, over the two years you and Harry have been together, his family had become your second one, they received you with open arms last Christmas and made you feel like one of them.
"Remember how nervous you were last year?" a smile made its way to Harry's face as he remembered last year's Christmas, since you and Harry started dating during his 2021 tour, you only had the chance to meet his mum and sister once when they visited him for one of his shows in LA, and Christmas was going to be your second meeting.
"Give me a break, okay? It was my second time meeting your mom and I was going to crash in her house for the holidays, of course I was going to be nervous." you told him as you hung more ornaments and decorations in your tree, it was almost done and you were very happy with the results.
"And they ended up loving you, baby, just like I told you," he moved to stand behind you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pressing a few kisses to the side of your face, making you lean into him "Tree looks good, we did a great job." he kissed the side of your face again, lingering his lips there for a minute.
"We? Harry I basically did all of that on my own while you sang Christmas songs the entire time." you playfully complained, turning around to face him and place your hands on his stomach, the material of his jumper soft in your hands.
"Heyyyy! That was mean!" he made his typical 'Heyyy' face, making you throw your head back as you laughed.
“I’m so happy to be spending the holidays with you again,” you ignored his complaints and decided to be soft for a minute. It was the perfect season for it, after all, “This year was just amazing, and I can't wait to see what next year has for us, if you'll still have me, of course."
"Baby! Of course I'll have you, I'm wrapped around your little finger and you know that," he kissed your nose sweetly, making you scrunch your face a little, "Besides, who's going to put up my tree next Christmas if you're not around? I'm going to turn into Scrooge!" you rolled your eyes with affection before speaking.
"So that's the only reason why we're dating? Because I put together amazing Christmas trees?" you decided to play along with him.
"That and your fantastic arse." he placed his hands in your bum making you squeal and laugh.
"Wish I could said that your arse is fantastic too but," he raised his brow, waiting for you to finish your sentence, "I was taught not to lie to others."
"Oh come on, my arse is spectacular and you know it," you laughed at his antics again, he could be such a man-child sometimes, "You're being so mean to me today, I might have to do something about it."
"Yeah? Like what?" it was your turn to raise your brow and tilt your head, waiting for his answer.
"I'm putting you on my naughty list." he grabbed you by the hips, making your chest collide with his, you instantly moved your hands to place them on his neck.
"You have a naughty list? Who else is there?" your eyes moved to his lips for a moment, dying to taste the red wine he had been drinking from them.
"Just you, actually." he smirked and finally kissed your lips, happiness filling both of you to be home for the holidays.
taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @sunflowervolume66 @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @leadmetogarden @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @ivegotparticulartaste @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @gumballavocadoharry @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay
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glamrockraybot · 4 months
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(NOT A "<character> is a robot" POST)
Honestly my favourite current theory for fnaf is that the mimic (who is probably not burntrap but may be glitchtrap) is intending to recreate the events of the William Afton Era™️ to a T, as it was built to mimic by....someone? I mean someone had to build it right.
Anyway I'm gonna lightly explain my reasoning for each of these even though I'm sure most of you have already made these connections before
I mean, we all heard the Vanessa theories already yeah? Not even mentioning her visual similarities to Elizabeth, I think either her or Michael could fit. Both of them were loyal to their father at some point (I don't know why else Michael would go into the Sister location bunker) and they both played significant roles in the story. I think if this was the case I'd wager Vanessa was *supposed* to be Elizabeth, but after breaking free she became more like Michael and hellbent on destroying the glitchtrap virus for good (maybe with a little bit of fire). I could understand arguments for Glamrock Freddy being Michael (even aside from him *literally* being Michael) but I didn't include any of the glamrocks because they serve a narrative purpose already as animatronics.
Gregory is. Obvious. I mean with how similar they look its already sort of suspicious, though Gregory is a little bit more of a fighter than CC. They at the very least share a connection with bear robots. I could see an argument for Gregory being Michael (God is Michael just every character?) But for visual similarities alone I picked CC.
Cassie was theorized from day one to be Cassidy or Charlie or both. I personally learn more towards Charlie but because of Something in hw2 I may be more willing to accept her as the vengeful spirit. I know Charlie doesn't always equal green but Cassie does have specks of green throughout her design, and she seems to be a very kind and caring friend (maybe too kind). Roxy being protective over her near the end is, well, a loose connection to the security puppet but I thought I'd bring it up.
For cassidy I can see this since if Gregory is CC, obviously cassidy and him would most likely talk and maybe be friends. In the picture that is from the logbook which might be cassidy they share a similar hair style. Not identical but, similar. Though I miss Cassie's curly hair </3
Mimic is probably the most obvious connection. William is like. The only human murderer from the original story, so you know, if the mimic is trying to kill people it's safe to say they are probably mimicking him. Though clearly they are not above mimicking other people (Gregory) in order to do this, sort of like what I imagine the funtimes did. I don't necessarily think they are acting like they did in the books where they are just carrying out an order to disassemble mechs, because if they were WHYyyy the need to lure people down there? Hey man I don't think that person you tricked into climbing down here is an endoskeleton I think that's a fucking person. This seems much more malicious, something that would make sense if they based their actions off of a killer from the 80s.
Also I guess Cassie's dad is worth a mention, who may be a parallel with Henry Emily or even Charlie herself. I'm leaning more towards Henry but I could see a case for it. I guess he can always be Michael. Because as much as I like fan interpretations of him he's sort of. Just Like. There. You know to be a foil to his dad.
Anyway I hope this was interesting, or rage inducing. And no I don't like the idea of them being robots of the character ❤️
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yanderes-galore · 4 months
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Can I request yandere Michael Afton with Henry daughter that was protected by platknic yandere lefty?
Sure! Lefty is Charlotte in this, so Lefty is referred to as (She/her).
Yandere! Michael Afton with Henry's Daughter! Darling protected by Lefty
Pairing: Platonic/Romantic (Michael)/Platonic (Lefty) - Rivalry
Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Overprotective behavior, Rivalry implied, Violence, Jealousy, Violence, She/Her Lefty, Trauma/Trauma bonding, Michael is a corpse, Death, Attempted murder, Forced companionship.
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Alright, you were the sister of Charlotte.
You, Charlotte, and Henry were originally an okay family.
However, William ruined your life.
William killed your sister and your father became obsessed with revenge.
So, honestly, you and Michael already have similarities.
Dead siblings… horrible dads… life ruined by William…
You'd get along.
You probably both met due to Henry, too.
Henry assigned you to help Michael with luring the animatronics into one place to end this.
Which, of course, allows you to meet Michael.
It's weird and slightly nauseating for you though due to Michael's… state.
He's a corpse that tries to hide that fact with too much cologne, makeup, and a strange bear mask.
The way he talks is raspy, too.
This is where the story takes place.
You work with Michael and you soon lure Lefty/The Puppet into your Pizzeria.
You no doubt know what Michael is even when he tries to hide it.
Despite this you still strike up conversation about your past and how the job is going.
Michael probably begins to have a soft spot towards you due to your shared trauma.
You're more closely linked than you think, y'know?
This makes Michael begin to see you not just as a coworker… but a friend, maybe even more.
Although he probably tries to hide such feelings due to what he's become.
So while you “bond” with Michael through your shared past and the job, there's someone lurking in the darkness.
Lefty, who in this concept is indeed possessed compared to my other ones, remembers you.
To be more specific, Charlotte remembers you as her sister.
She still hates Michael… but not you.
She remembers you in a good light.
You and her father were no doubt devastated about her death.
I also think Charlotte has missed you since she's died.
What she doesn't enjoy is the fact Michael is with you.
Charlotte, who I will now call Lefty, associates Michael with William.
She wants him dead.
Even more so with him so close to you.
The sight of Michael trying to bond with you more than her, or the possibility that you can get hurt, sends her into a rage.
So while Lefty tries to kill Michael, she is actively doing it to try and protect you
She doesn't want you falling prey to a similar fate to her.
She still cares for you too much for that.
I can see the dynamic of this being Michael trying to protect you from Lefty, with Lefty trying to protect you from Michael.
It's like a game of tug o'war between you.
Michael assumes since Lefty is after him, Lefty will kill you too.
Meanwhile Lefty thinks Michael will hurt you like William did to her.
You have a hard time trusting either of them.
Michael seems to have a strange fascination with you due to shared trauma while Lefty keeps trying to isolate you. 
You're caught in the middle.
They both probably mean well, but you don't trust it.
You also might not know Lefty's true identity.
Which only concerns you more when the black bear keeps trying to get close to you.
The rivalry between the two only makes this whole job harder.
During the day you work with Michael to gain money.
During the night you end up tracking Lefty.
Lefty would probably tell you her identity once she has a chance, which shocks you.
Yet Michael wouldn't take it well for a few reasons.
One, Lefty may be your sister but she's still trying to kill him.
Two, Michael wants all of your attention on him.
The fighting no doubt continues right up until Henry's plan hits its end.
Michael keeps trying to keep you in the office with him while Lefty/Charlotte is trying to coax you to stay with her.
Lefty knows of the dangers in this pizzeria.
Michael does too.
So, it's just a decision of who will protect you each night.
Does your choice even matter in the end?
You'll probably all burn by the end of this.
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