At A Gala For Ever After In Florencein 1998

at a gala for Ever After in Florence in 1998

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cut me a plate of oranges,

even after i said i didn’t want any.

rewatching season 3 rn and i was thinking. if billy and karen had been a thing, billy would be mike’s dad and max would be mikes aunt 😭 maybe that’s why mike hated her sm at the beginning..

ah yes, the pure and unadulterated joy of being an asshole to your siblings

i NEED a thirst of mike walking in on shy!innocent! reader trying to get off and she gets so embarrassed when he catches her and he teases her while helping her!!

there's about another hour before you're required to peel yourself from the wrinkly warmth of mike's unmade bed and wake the slumbering girl down the hallway up for school. the red of the alarm clock's numbers cast an eerie glow over the tangled sheets, and you use the dim lighting to find the knotted ties of your joggers. once you wriggle your fingers underneath the band without the worry of a constricted wrist, you nearly fumble with the cotton hem of your panties, until your fingers are able to find the dewy slick that clings at your tired pussy.

with goodnight kisses smeared against your temple, mike had draped his body over yours the night prior, chest sticky against your back. hot breath in your ear, pelvis clapping against your bottom as he bottomed out with each forced thrust inside your cunt. promises of the next morning were fleeting when he scrambled to get dressed, already running out of the bedroom with unbuttoned jeans, and with his spend oozing lazily out of you.

you're quickly reminded with the sticky remnants that coat your fingertips, and with a breathy groan you use the lubricant as means to reveal your clit. you rub heavy-handed circles against the aching nerves, sometimes delving down between slick folds to gather more semen.

your chest heaves from the mattress when the fingers find a permanent spot against your hole, one digit first to ease the rigid muscles into their practiced, relaxed state, and then two when the pressure against your g-spot isn't satisfactory.

your palm is flat against your mound, fingers messily scissoring against your gummy walls, rubbing against sensitive zones until your toes are curling into the navy blue sheets.

"oh mike," you trill in a breathy moan, grinding down against the slight application of pressure that the heel of your hand provides against your clit, other hand creeping up to twist at a clothed nipple.

your fingers squelch inside your cunt as they move faster, messy in their uncoordinated thrusting, and your thighs nearly clamp down over your hand when a throaty chuckle echoes from the doorway. "g'morning, baby."

your mouth goes desert-dry, but the thought of removing your hand from between your thighs isn't present. "hi.."

mike makes sure to keep his footsteps quiet as he glides over, discarding his uniform first, and then pulling at his belt. "you okay, over there?"

you lick over your lips, jaw clenching as you slowly creep your hand away from your cunt, a trail of moisture slicking across your abdomen. "um.. yeah?"

"couldn't wait for me, could you?" he taunts, climbing onto the bed until he's looming over you, weight braced with two sturdy arms bracketing your midriff.

he leans in for a kiss, which you reciprocate with warbling lips, gasping onto his tongue when he sinks his teeth into your lower lip. "didn't know what time it was." you fib.

"6:25, babe," course fingertips ghost over the wet mess between your thighs before he finds your clit, applying a delicate pressure. "but that's alright, i know you couldn't do it without me." another kiss. "i'll help you, now."