jealousjersey

[jealousjersey]

can’t wait until the fnaf movie comes out so my page blows up again

[jealousjersey]

he definitely posts these on facebook unironically

[jealousjersey]

"tumblr's the only social media without algorithms!" "you can still be anonymous on tumblr!" "tumblr's so nice because you don't have to show your face!" WRONG tumblr is special because you can have 3000 followers and still get an average of seven likes a post. i'm doing stand up comedy at a packed venue and one person is laughing

[jealousjersey]

i just gotta say that i’ve binged all your works! you write smut so so so good🙈. thank you for feeding josh futturman fics, there’s an INSANE drought of them.

omg yall are gonna be fed so well this summer i swear ‼️

[jealousjersey]

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹”secret”⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹

summary // you house sit miles place while while he’s at work and abby is at school. you find yourself in his bed, overwhelmed by his lingering scent. caught up in the moment, you touch yourself using his t-shirt, only for Mike to return home early and catch you in the act.

tags // reader getting caught masturbating, mike schmidt x perv!reader, p in v sex, penetration, yearning, intimacy, sexual tension, smut and fluff, friends to lovers, soft dom mike, mild humiliation

mentions // @stop-talking @janitorhutcherson @lile6969 @whimperly @joshfutturman

authors note // we’re so back guys writers drought it out

you get back from taking abby to school, mikes at work and you have the house to yourself…you think.

you lay down in mikes bed which is normal for you. when he gets home he usually wakes you up softly or carries you to the couch. he’ll never admit it but he loves it.

as soon as you get ready for bed you feel a familiar sensation in your lower stomach. you notice that the room is full of his scent and it makes you loose it, grabbing a tshirt from his pile of unfolded clean clothes and innocently laying down with it.

before you know it you’re touching yourself with his tshirt in between your legs, got the smell of him has your eyes rolling back in your head as you touch your pretty cunt and think of him.

The scent of Mike’s t-shirt, a heady mix of his cologne and something distinctly *him*, clings to your senses, driving you deeper into the haze of your own desire. Your fingers move faster, the soft cotton of his shirt pressed between your thighs, muffling the quiet gasps that escape your lips. The room feels smaller, the air heavier, as you lose yourself in the fantasy of him—his calloused hands, his low voice, the way his eyes linger on you when he thinks you’re not looking.

You’re so caught up in the moment, eyes squeezed shut, that you don’t hear the faint creak of the front door or the soft tread of shoes against the hardwood. Mike’s home early. The pizzaria let him off sooner than expected, and he’s already through the living room, his mind on you, on the quiet comfort of finding you in his space.

But as he steps into the hallway, he freezes. The door to his bedroom is slightly open, and there’s a sound—soft, breathy, hot. His heart stutters, a mix of confusion and something hotter, more primal, curling in his chest. He should turn away, give you privacy, but his feet don’t move. Instead, he nudges the door open just enough to see you.

You’re sprawled across his bed, his t-shirt clutched tightly against you, your head tilted back, lips parted. The sight hits him like a punch, stealing the air from his lungs. He’s never seen you like this, so unguarded, so raw. His mouth goes dry, and he grips the doorframe to steady himself, torn between stepping back and stepping closer.

Your eyes flutter open at the faint sound of his movement, and you freeze, heart lurching into your throat. There he is, standing in the doorway, his work jacket still on, eyes dark and unreadable. The t-shirt slips from your grasp as you scramble to sit up, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Mike—I—I didn’t hear you come in,” you stammer, pulling the blanket over yourself like it could hide what just happened.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stares, his jaw tight. You brace for him to turn away, to pretend this never happened, but instead, he steps inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The air shifts, charged with something electric. “You’re in my bed,” he says, voice low, rougher than usual. It’s not a question, but there’s a weight to it, like he’s trying to piece together what he just walked into.

“I… I was just…” You trail off, unable to find an excuse that doesn’t sound ridiculous. Your pulse races, humiliation warring with the lingering heat in your veins.

Mike takes another step closer, his gaze flicking to the t-shirt now tangled in the sheets. His lips twitch, not quite a smirk but close. “That’s mine,” he says, nodding toward it. There’s no judgment in his tone, only a quiet intensity that makes your stomach flip.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, barely audible, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

“Don’t be.” He’s at the edge of the bed now, close enough that you can smell the faint trace of motor oil and sweat on him, grounding you back in the reality of his presence. His hand hovers near your knee, not quite touching, but the proximity alone sends a shiver through you. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this,” he admits, his voice barely above a murmur, like he’s confessing a secret he’s held too long.

Your breath catches, eyes widening. “huh… what?”

He chuckles, a soft, almost broken sound, and finally lets his hand rest on your knee, his thumb brushing lightly against the blanket. “You think I don’t notice you? The way you fit into my life, into *this*?” He gestures vaguely to the room, the house, the quiet routine you’ve both built. “I come home, see you in my bed, and it’s all I can do not to climb in with you.”

The confession hangs between you, raw and unguarded, and suddenly the embarrassment fades, replaced by a rush of boldness. You shift, letting the blanket fall slightly, revealing the curve of your thigh. His eyes follow the movement, darkening. “Then why don’t you?” you ask, voice trembling but steady enough to hold his gaze.

Mike exhales sharply, like the question physically pains him. For a moment, you think he might pull back, retreat into the safety of his usual restraint, but then he leans in, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. “Because once I start,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends heat pooling in your core, “I’m not sure I’ll stop.”

You don’t give him the chance to second-guess. You close the distance, pressing your lips to his, and it’s like a dam breaking. His kiss is hungry, desperate, all the pent up tension of months, spilling over. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer, and you climb into his lap, the t-shirt forgotten as you lose yourself in the reality of him, no longer just a fantasy.

Mike’s kiss deepens, a slow, searing thing that steals your breath and sets your skin alight. His hands, rough from years of manual labor, grip your waist with a tenderness that belies their strength, pulling you flush against him as you straddle his lap. The weight of his confession still lingers, raw and electric, and every touch feels like an extension of it, a promise, a release, a claiming. You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, and he groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, igniting the heat coiled tight in your core.

“God, you have no idea,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with want as he pulls back just enough to look at you. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and the way he’s staring—like you’re the only thing in the world that matters—makes your heart stutter. His thumb traces the curve of your jaw, lingering as if he’s memorizing every detail. “How long I’ve wanted this. Wanted *you*.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, and you press yourself closer, feeling the hard planes of his body through his worn t-shirt, the warmth of him grounding you even as your head spins. “Then show me,” you whisper, bold despite the nervous flutter in your chest. You lean in, brushing your lips against the stubble along his jaw, and the low, rumbling sound he makes in his throat is enough to make your thighs clench.

Mike doesn’t need more encouragement. His hands slide under your shirt—*his* shirt, still tangled around you from earlier—his calloused palms skimming up your sides, leaving trails of heat in their wake. You lift your arms, letting him pull the fabric over your head, and the cool air of the room contrasts sharply with the fire building between you. His gaze rakes over you, reverent, hungry, and when his hands find your bare skin, it’s like he’s worshiping you, mapping every curve with deliberate care.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, almost to himself, and before you can respond, he’s kissing you again, deeper this time, like he’s pouring everything he’s held back into it. His lips trail down your neck, finding the sensitive spot just below your ear, and you gasp, arching into him. Your hands fumble with the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him, and he chuckles softly, helping you tug it off. The sight of him—broad shoulders, the faint scars from years of hard work, the way his muscles shift under his skin—makes your mouth go dry.

You pull him closer, your lips crashing into his as you rock against him, the friction sending sparks through your body. He groans, hands gripping your hips to guide your movements, and the tension that’s been building for months, maybe longer, snaps like a taut wire. “Fuck,” he mutters, voice strained, and the raw need in it sends a fresh wave of heat through you.

He flips you gently onto your back, the mattress dipping under his weight as he hovers over you, one arm braced beside your head. His eyes search yours, checking for any hesitation, but all you can do is nod, reaching up to pull him down to you. “I want you,” you say, the words spilling out before you can overthink them, and it’s like a key turning in a lock.

Mike’s restraint crumbles. He kisses you like he’s starving, lips and tongue claiming yours as his hands explore, teasing and stoking the fire in your veins. When he finally presses himself against you, the slow, deliberate way he moves makes your eyes roll back, a soft moan escaping your lips. Every touch, every whispered word, is laced with the weight of everything unsaid—every late-night glance, every moment you’ve both pretended was just an arrangement.

The room fills with the sounds of your shared breaths, the creak of the bed, the quiet gasps and murmured praises. He moves inside you, for you, each thrust a blend of passion and urgency, like he’s trying to make up for all the time you’ve both wasted. Your nails dig into his back, urging him closer, and he obliges, his lips finding yours again as the world narrows to just the two of you, the heat and rhythm building to the upmost pleasure.

When you finally unravel, it’s with his name on your lips, your body trembling beneath him as waves of pleasure crash over you. He follows moments later, a low, broken sound escaping him as he buries his face in your neck, his breaths hot and ragged against your skin. For a moment, you just hold each other, the intensity giving way to a soft, almost fragile quiet, like neither of you wants to break the spell.

Eventually, Mike shifts, rolling onto his side and pulling you against his chest. His arms wrap around you, warm and steady, and you can feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat under your cheek. “Stay,” he murmurs, his voice soft but firm, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he doesn’t say it.

You softly smile, pressing a kiss to his bare collarbone. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He exhales, a sound of relief, and tucks you closer, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. The room is still heavy with his scent, but now it’s mixed with yours, a quiet testament to what’s changed. As you drift toward sleep, tangled together in his bed, you know this is only the beginning—messy, complicated, and undeniably yours.

[jealousjersey]

cockwarming bf!josh futturman while he’s streaming

your boyfriend is in the world championship team of biotic wars, streaming in your bedroom. the chat is pouring donations out and sending encouragement to him. but you can think of one better. you get a risky idea, texting him “can i cockwarm you?” while on your bed on the other side of the room. he looks at the text and responds “go for it:)” and keeps playing.

you smile and get under his desk, making yourself comfortable. you slide your shorts off of your frame, then unbuttoning his jeans. he moves his hips to help you pull them off, you rub him through his boxers, already leaking for you.

your thumbs hook the waist band of his boxers, slipping them down. his hard cock shoots out, red and leaking precum. you bite back a moan and slide your underwear down. you arch your back under the desk and guide him into you, feeling him fill you up. you feel every twitch he makes. you back up so he’s fully inside you. you look behind you to see his reaction, calm and unfazed.

you start to move yourself, back and forward, making him feel your spot with every small move you make. you grip the carpet, not wanting to moan and ruin the stream. his game is going really well despite the situation. hes at the last level of the tournament. he’s so close to beating it first….so close. you see his face as he gets closer to the end of it, biting his lip and moving his fingers along the console, god you never thought you’d be jealous of a keyboard before.

as he reaches the last door, exiting the previous checkpoint, he tries a new technique. he razes through the game, trying to collect every coin and new weapon. just as he reaches the next door…he’s so close,..so close

he enters the room, beating the level. and fuck he can’t help but cum, weeks of pent up energy drained into your tight little cunt. you can’t help but let out a whimper. the chat hadn’t caught on, still congratulating him despite his release dripping from your hole. he looks down at you and smirks

your phone buzzes with a “you’re evil.”

[jealousjersey]

what the fuck is happening rn is this just me?? it’s on different bots + the ones i made myself?

[jealousjersey]

We are never, ever getting back together (pt 3)

Afab!reader x Mike Schmidt 

pt 1 pt 2

WC: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, slow burn, enemies to friends(?) Slight angst, mentions of custody/family issues, fluff, no use of y/n

A/N: I just wanted to say I'm so sorry for taking almost a year to write this. I was originally going to leave it unfinished, but it didn’t feel fair, plus I've been itching to write something. Sorry this is short, I felt like you guys deserved some clarity at least. Also, I’ve been practicing writing these past few months, so hopefully the quality has increased!

(I did change the tense, so I'm sorry for the difference from the prior parts.)

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Mike was never the type to lie. Ever. He wasn’t perfect all 6 years, but no one is. But, just hours ago he drunkenly admitted he lied to you for years. 

The lie ran through your head like poison, infecting your blood, and making it impossible to think. 

He was drunk. He could barely make it down the hall without your help. But, it was such an odd confession, and he said it with such conviction you had no choice but to believe it was the truth.  You had always believed drunken words were sober thoughts. 

Either way, those 5 little words caused you to call out sick to work the next day. How could you work? How could you walk through the fluorescent-lit halls and act like your world wasn’t torn apart just 12 hours before?

Clapton was still blowing up your phone with texts filled with worry and frustration. You felt bad, sure, but you just couldn’t deal with him.

You flipped open your phone, scrolling through the long slew of messages. 

“Why aren’t you answering me? Did I do smth?”

“U good?”

“Yea. I haven’t been feeling good recently, sry.”

It wasn’t just an excuse; you genuinely felt like shit. A heavy pit settled in your stomach, and a wave of exhaustion washed over you. The thought of confronting Mike loomed over you like a dark cloud. You knew you needed to talk, but the mere thought filled you with dread, tightening your chest and making it hard for you to breathe.

After long, restless hours in bed, the pain in your heart became unbearable, a heavy burden weighing you down. With a deep breath, you finally pushed the sheets aside and got up. The silence of the hall closed in around you as you approached Mike’s door. You hesitated briefly before knocking softly, the sound cutting through the stillness.

With every silent second, your heart pounded louder in your chest, and your palms grew slick with sweat. A chilling wave swept down your spine, tightening the grip of anxiety. The hairs on your arms prickled as the locks clicked and echoed in the silence. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the irrational fear that gripped you.

The door creaked open, and there stood Mike, silhouetted by the dim light behind him. You took a long look at him, your eyes tracing the dark circles under his eyes. He was wearing nothing but basketball shorts. His soft brown curls were a tangled mess, and his skin had an unusual greenish hue. With his eyebrows furrowed together in pain, you could tell that he was suffering from an awful hangover.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” You asked, unable to shake the feeling that he might have forgotten the words he said that carried so much meaning. 

Mike sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God, I’ve been an ass, haven’t I?” he asked, regret evident in his voice. You chuckled softly, silently agreeing with him.

“It’s… Fine.”

“But, it’s not.” He said, his voice shaky, “You’re so… Good to me. You always have been.” You snapped your eyes up and looked into his. 

“I just… I just don’t understand why you’ve been this way, Mike.”

“I- God, things have just been a mess with Abbs and my Aunt.” 

“Mike…”

“I know. I know, it’s no excuse. I just... You were always my rock. You were the only one who could calm me down, who could help me work through my bullshit.” 

The hatred that simmered deep in your soul slowly melted out of your body the more he talked. The tension in your shoulders deflated, and a sad smile crawled across your face.

“Then why’d you leave me?”

Mike winced, your words stabbing through his beating heart. Before he could speak, you hesitantly brought up the prior night.

“You… You said something last night. That- There wasn’t another girl?”

His eyes widened and his pupils dilated. The horror in his eyes made it apparent that neither of you were ready to have this conversation.

“I think it’s best if you come in.” 

Minutes later, you found yourself situated on his couch, a mug of tea warming your shaking hands. Mike sat down next to you, now covered up with a black sweatshirt.

“Do… Do you remember the first custody battle? When they called you to testify and come to court for days.” He enunciated days like you didn’t remember the grueling weeks you two fought through together. Despite that, you nodded slowly.

“You had to take a gap year. You were so close to getting your teaching degree. It put you behind.”

“I remember.” 

“Well… Um.” He stuttered through his words, almost like it was painful to recount the past. “That week I left... It happened again. Jane tried to get custody. I just.. Couldn't put you through that again. You were on track to getting your dream job, for god's sake. So, I left.”

Your entire body froze as the world around you stopped spinning. Dizziness clouded your head, and your vision became blurry. It didn’t make sense—nothing he said made any sense to you. For two years, you had believed what he told you. You believed that heartless text he sent. You accepted every word.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“It wasn’t fair to drag you into my bullshit. I wanted to protect you and protect Abby. I thought the best way was to get you away from me. I was like a black hole. I sucked the life out of you.” 

“Mike- That’s not true!”

“It is, though! I mean look at you! You have everything. You have your dream career, your dream apartment. Your life became better when I left.”

“Because I had to! That year, I lost everything! I lost my whole world, Mike! I loved you! Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve helped! I would’ve done anything for you!”

“That’s exactly why I left!” You flinched back, your eyebrows furrowed together. “I just couldn’t watch you interrupt your life for me. Interrupt your dreams. I couldn’t even protect my own sister. How could I sit there and ruin your life, too?”

You wanted to push him, yell at him, but you could tell he was in pain. You could tell guilt was eating him alive, you could tell he was aching. You didn’t want him to feel worse for his actions. But you needed him to know how you felt. You needed him to know how the hole in your heart he left almost consumed you.

“Mike… I spent almost 3 years hating you. Hating myself. I hated myself because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. You should’ve told me.”

“Good enough? You were too good for me! Hell, you still are. I treated you like shit. I ruined your life! And you still care for me. You still helped me in my lowest moments. You’re beautiful and sweet, and god, you’re just.. An angel. I never deserved you.” He could barely look you in the eyes.

Before your brain could process, and beg you to stop, your hand reached up to cup his jaw. Your thumb drew circles on his skin. His eyes flicked up to yours and his eyebrows shot up his forehead.

“That never stopped me from loving you.” His eyes shone in the apartment lights, illuminating the flicks of gold. As much as you hated him, you couldn’t tear your eyes away. You wanted to stare at him for hours. You wanted to study each crease and wrinkle of his face. You wanted so desperately to count each of his freckles. “Was there really no one else?”

“God, no. There was only ever you.” 

You sighed, the weight of the past slowly lifting off of you. You couldn’t fully trust him, and you knew you could never go back to before. But your heart still screamed for him. It still longed for him. “I wish you didn’t lie to me.”

“Me too.”

Your thumb continued to stroke his soft skin. It was dangerous to be so close. You and Mike knew it. But, it felt right. It felt natural. It felt like two lost puzzle pieces were finally fitting together.

A text notification pinged throughout the room, echoing in the silence. You quickly pulled away and cleared your throat. Mike's eye twitched as he grabbed his phone off the counter. The color in his face drained quickly.

“Shit- It’s Jane.” 

You sighed and looked away from him. “Okay. I should… Go, anyway.”

“Hold on- I’ll walk you out.” He stood up, speed walking to his front door. Before you stepped out, you quickly turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck. You pressed your chest against him, breathing in his cologne. 

He hesitated slightly, worried you would turn to dust if he dared to touch you. After a heartbeat, he gave in. You stood in his doorway, his face tucked into your neck, yours pressed against his chest. His heart beat against his ribs, matching the flutter of yours.

Footsteps echoing against the walls of the apartment hall caused you to tear away from Mike's embrace. 

Clapton stood in the hall, a shopping bag in his hand.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

The room was filled with awkward silence, unspoken apologies, and a tension you couldn’t cut with a chainsaw. Clapton sat on your couch, paralleling your earlier conversation with Mike. He sat there, his leg bouncing up and down quickly.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Clapton quickly cut you off. “I know.”

Bewildered, your eyebrows raised and wrinkles appeared on your forehead. “You- What? Know what?” “That you,” He swallowed. “Used me. I ran into Mike at 7-Eleven yesterday. He told me he moved in next door.”

Your eyes were wide, and guilt began gnawing at your stomach. “Clapton- I- I’m so sorry…”

His eyes were soft, but his lips were downturned. “I get it. I’ve- had my moments like that. Trying to get back at an ex…”

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, biting down on the plush skin. “You've sent glitter bombs over to someone's house and fucked someone so loud you dented your wall?” Clapton’s eyes widened and he chuckled.

“Well- I- That’s original.” Now it was your turn to laugh, though the sound felt hollow and insincere. He was right. You acted like a middle-schooler. For god's sake, you were a teacher. You were supposed to be the responsible one, the one guiding the next generation to success and maturity. But you were instead getting fucked at 3 am and sending prank packages to get back at an ex. The moment you had that revelation, a wave of nausea washed over you, twisting your stomach into knots. You were an awful, sad excuse of a fucking human.

Clapton's large hand suddenly resting on your shoulder grounded you, just slightly. “Hey, it’s okay.”

You looked up at him, your heart racing and your palms trembling ever so slightly. “You’re not mad?”

Clapton laughs, almost bitterly. “I mean- I was. But I’m just- disappointed mostly. I know how much you love- loved Mike, but did it have to be me?”

You clenched your jaw together and looked away, eyes focused on the world outside. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. As you shifted your focus back to him, you were drawn into the depths of his warm, brown eyes. You searched for an ounce of understanding.

“It’s… I get it.” Despite the disappointment and betrayal you saw deep in his irises, he still smiled. Clapton was always like that. He had always hidden how he truly felt behind sickly sweet words. “I still want to be friends.” Even with his lie about understanding what you did, you could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice; he was sincere about being your friend. You felt relieved that he valued your friendship as much as you did his.

“I’d like that.” 

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You were completely drained, every ounce of energy drained from your body. Having two heart-to-hearts with the most important people in your life weighed on you immensely. For now, all you wanted to do was sleep. You wanted desperately for your life to go back to normal, before Mike lied to you, before you almost wrecked your relationship with Clapton. Back when times were simple.

Despite the turmoil in your heart, a part of you was still glad. There was still hope with Mike. But, did you want there to be? The haunting doubts nagged at you: What if he lied to you again? What if he shuts down, reinforcing those walls that had torn you apart? The uncertainty tightened its grip, leaving you torn between yearning and fear.

Could you still love him after what happened? Did he still love you?

Even with the countless questions racing through your head, exhaustion took hold, and your heavy eyelids finally surrendered. For the first time in weeks, a rare calm washed over you, finally granting you a peaceful sleep.

[jealousjersey]

~and I don’t wanna go home right now

[jealousjersey]

my baby

[jealousjersey]

let’s hope we bring it back i miss yall

work incident + josh futturman x co-worker reader - pure smut

“fuck we have to be quiet, kronish is giving his speech” you whimper, his hands grip your shoulders as his tip teases your entrance, god you’re so wet it’s killing you. his hands migrate and grip your breasts, fingers teasing over your hard nipples. he grunts in your ear “jesus christ i need you” you nod, eyes lidded and and your head falls back, holding back a moan.

he bends you over and slaps your ass with enough force to leave a mark. his lips attack your neck , leaving small marks. reminders that you’re his. his dick thrusts into you, making you cover your mouth from a whimper slipping out. his length presses deep into you, hitting your gspot with every movement he makes. his hands grip your waist, moving them back and forth.

josh knew what you needed tonight, and his hips start rocking into you at a borderline abusive pace. the heat in your core coming too fast and too hard, as the base of his balls stimulated your clit with each trashing movement he made into you.

“so close aren’t you?” he groans in your ear, feeling you clench around him. you can’t deny the pool in your lower stomach. your orgasm is coming, and fast. you can’t bring yourself to say anything so you nod. with a couple more thrusts, fireworks shot through you. his hand moved on your clit and deep inside you, where his length was pounding away.

soon enough he does finish, cumming inside you and making you feel every last drop of him pooling out of you. his thumb reaches to push it back inside you, letting you know that youre all his.

tags : @xcherryerim @stop-talking @lile6969 @killerpixel @janitorhutcherson

[jealousjersey]

“Valentine’s day”

Mike x GN reader

655 words

Reader has a pandora bracelet that they always wear so Mike decides to get reader a Pandora gift.

Mike wasn’t the kind of guy who got excited about Valentine’s Day. He never really saw the point—overpriced chocolates, flowers that died in a few days, and couples crowding into restaurants just because a calendar told them to. It had never been his thing.

But you?

You had a way of making him care about things he never used to.

So, despite working late shifts as a security guard and barely scraping by most months, Mike found himself standing in front of the glass cases at a jewelry store a few days before Valentine’s, feeling entirely out of place. The saleswoman had asked him if he needed help twice, and both times, he’d grumbled a quick “just looking” before stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. The truth was, he already knew what he wanted to get you—he just needed to find the right one.

You wore that damn Pandora bracelet every day. He’d noticed how your fingers absentmindedly traced over the charms when you were thinking, how you smiled whenever you got a new one. It was something personal, something that actually meant something to you. And Mike might not have been the most romantic guy in the world, but he figured if he was going to do Valentine’s Day, he was going to do it right.

The night of Valentine’s Day, Mike showed up at your place after his shift, still smelling faintly of coffee and the cheap soap from the pizzeria’s employee bathroom. He hadn’t had time to change, but he figured you wouldn’t care. You never did.

You greeted him with a warm smile, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek before pulling him inside. The place was cozy, the soft glow of a few candles making it feel warmer than it already was. You had cooked—nothing fancy, but something homemade, something just for the two of you. It was more than he was used to, more than he probably deserved, but he didn’t say that out loud.

Dinner was easy, comfortable, filled with soft laughter and quiet moments where he just watched you talk, taking in every little expression, every movement. And afterward, when the plates were pushed aside and you were curled up on the couch together, he finally reached into his jacket pocket.

“Here,” he muttered, pulling out the small Pandora bag and setting it on your lap. “Before you say anything, I know it’s nothing big, but…”

You blinked, looking down at the bag, then up at him, surprised. “Mike—”

“Just open it.”

You didn’t argue. With careful fingers, you pulled out the tiny box inside, popping open the lid to reveal a delicate silver heart charm. Your breath hitched slightly as you picked it up, turning it over between your fingers.

It was simple, nothing flashy, but perfect. The kind of charm that fit seamlessly with the rest of your bracelet. And when you looked closely, you noticed the small engraving on one side—an ‘M.’

Your chest tightened, warmth blooming in your stomach as you glanced up at him. “Mike…”

He shrugged, shifting slightly like he was bracing himself. “Figured you should have something from me on there,” he muttered. “Since you never take that thing off.”

A soft smile tugged at your lips, and before he could get any more awkward about it, you leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. He responded immediately, his hand finding your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, your voice barely above a whisper. “I love it. And I love you.”

Mike exhaled, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, his thumb tracing absent circles against your skin. His voice was quieter when he spoke, more certain.

“Yeah. I love you too.”

And even though Valentine’s Day still wasn’t his thing, you were. And that was all that mattered.

[jealousjersey]

work incident + josh futturman x co-worker reader - pure smut

“fuck we have to be quiet, kronish is giving his speech” you whimper, his hands grip your shoulders as his tip teases your entrance, god you’re so wet it’s killing you. his hands migrate and grip your breasts, fingers teasing over your hard nipples. he grunts in your ear “jesus christ i need you” you nod, eyes lidded and and your head falls back, holding back a moan.

he bends you over and slaps your ass with enough force to leave a mark. his lips attack your neck , leaving small marks. reminders that you’re his. his dick thrusts into you, making you cover your mouth from a whimper slipping out. his length presses deep into you, hitting your gspot with every movement he makes. his hands grip your waist, moving them back and forth.

josh knew what you needed tonight, and his hips start rocking into you at a borderline abusive pace. the heat in your core coming too fast and too hard, as the base of his balls stimulated your clit with each trashing movement he made into you.

“so close aren’t you?” he groans in your ear, feeling you clench around him. you can’t deny the pool in your lower stomach. your orgasm is coming, and fast. you can’t bring yourself to say anything so you nod. with a couple more thrusts, fireworks shot through you. his hand moved on your clit and deep inside you, where his length was pounding away.

soon enough he does finish, cumming inside you and making you feel every last drop of him pooling out of you. his thumb reaches to push it back inside you, letting you know that youre all his.

tags : @xcherryerim @stop-talking @lile6969 @killerpixel @janitorhutcherson

[jealousjersey]

wolfcore

[jealousjersey]

oh this is a banger

Sweet Dreams

Mike Schmidt x fem reader

2.1k words Tags: 18+, fem reader, somnophilia, free use, head (reader receiving), pre-established relationship, morning sex, pussy sniffing, edging sorta?, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie <3 ─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Mike Schmidt is used to his sleep being interrupted. Whether it be nightmares, the annoying screech of an alarm, or even his own sister, he can't ever seem to catch a break when it comes to sleeping.

What he's not used to, however, is waking up to someone else in his bed. Someone else… shaking him? No, that's not right. What are you doing?

He finally opens his tired eyes, twisting to look over his shoulder and catch a glimpse of you as you cling to his back. His breathing slows, and the memories of last night flood back all at once. Right. He has a girlfriend now. Mike isn't sure he's ever going to get used to that.

"What is it, hun?" He asks, absentmindedly patting the leg you've thrown over him as you continue to lightly shake him awake.

When there's no response, he frowns, squinting at you in an attempt to make out your face in the dimly lit room.

Shit, are you… asleep? The realization hits him like a ton of bricks, and suddenly the "shaking" makes a lot more sense. You're not trying to wake him up. You aren't even awake yourself. You're fucking grinding on him in your sleep.

Mike lets out a guttural groan at the thought, closing his eyes and giving the plush skin of your thigh a squeeze as you continue to desperately hump his leg.

Fuck. He swears he can feel how wet you are even through your panties.

For a minute, he just lies there with his hand on you, letting you cling to him from behind and rock your core against his leg. Should he wake you? Or stay still and let you use him to get off? He only hopes you're dreaming about his cock. And shit, that thought has him stiffening in his boxers.

Past conversations flicker through his mind, and a shiver runs down his spine at the memory of you nipping at his neck and softly begging him to do the very thing he's trying to hold himself back from. Fucking you while you're asleep? It just seems... wrong.

Then again, you'd been not-so-subtly hinting to him that you wanted to try it for practically your whole relationship. Mike's face goes red hot as your words echo in his mind.

You all but begged him to fuck you in your sleep, dirty fantasies whispered in his ear during the heat of the moment more times than he could count. Mike knew very well you'd do almost anything for him.

And, well, if you're dreaming about him, he can't very well leave you hanging, can he? You deserve the real deal. It's his job to make sure you're satisfied, isn't it?

With a deep breath, Mike gently pries you from his body. A gentle nudge has you on your back, allowing him to peel away the blankets and get a better look at your sleeping form. The first few rays of morning sun peek through the blinds, highlighting your figure in a soft warm glow.

You're so pretty like this. Mike can't help but sit up and admire you, watching you squirm and whine on his bed. He absentmindedly rubs at his hardening cock through his shorts, grinding the heel of his hand against his length. He can't help himself, he knows it should be YOU getting off right now, but this view is just too good.

Not good enough. His other hand tugs at your panties, slowly, gently, trying his best not to wake you.

No, he's sure now that you need to stay asleep. You deserve to rest, to be taken care of. There's no reason to wake you.

He loses all interest in his own pleasure once your panties come off- going dizzy at the sight of you dripping on his sheets. Holy shit. THAT wet for him? How long had you been teasing yourself in your unconscious state before he'd finally woken up?

Fuck. Doesn't matter. He quietly lowers himself into position, struggling to go slow in an attempt not to wake you. Strong arms wrap around your thighs, spreading you open so his tongue can do the heavy lifting.

He wants to taste you, but can't resist the urge to smell you first. His eyes flutter shut as his nose buries between your folds, just barely nudging your clit as he inhales deeply.

Even with just the barest flicker of contact to your sensitive spot, your thighs start to tense in his arms. It was clear you wanted this, needed this, needed him.

"You're fuckin' lucky to have me," he whispers, the words getting lost in the soft wet licking sounds as he begins to lap at your wet pussy. You taste so familiar, so warm, like home. He closes his eyes and gets lost in you, groaning into your core as your taste and smell overwhelm his senses.

You may not be awake to instruct him, to guide him with a fistful of his hair like usual, but Mike's sure his performance is more than adequate as you start to lightly buck your hips against his face.

A quick glance up at you tells him you're still asleep, if only barely so. He gently circles your clit with his tongue, preening over the small hum it earns from you.

Your eyes dart rapidly under your eyelids, almost fluttering open as Mike's tongue movements grow more rapid. Fuck, you'd better be dreaming about him.

Mike knows he should finish you off. Put you out of your misery. His poor girl, who knows how long that pathetic attempt to get off on his leg had lasted? Still, he doesn't want this to end so soon.

Something about having you under his control, knowing he could make you cum at any moment, was just so delicious. Mercy be damned, he was going to enjoy this. Play with his pretty little toy till you wake up or gush all over his face. Whichever came first.

Gingerly, still scared to wake you, he prods at your entrance with a thick middle finger. It slides in perfectly, your pussy greedily taking what's offered. For a few moments, Mike just pulls away and stares, hypnotized by the way you perfectly swallow each thrust of his hand.

Usually, you'd be mumbling some kind of praise or thanks right now. Always so grateful when he ate you out, like it was an inconvenience, a favor, something that put you in his debt. Maybe if you could see just how hard his cock was, you'd realize the truth.

Mike enjoyed this just as much as, (if not more than) you.

The throbbing in his boxers made that painfully obvious to Mike as he latched onto your clit, giving it the faintest teasing tug with his lips. Your cunt clenched around his finger in response, hard. That close still, huh? He'd have to be careful.

He focused his attention inside. Quick, shallow thrusts of his hand had your walls fluttering around his finger in a way that made his dick jealous. Before you could tip over the edge, Mike took his hand away, groaning at the strand of slick that still connected his finger to your cunt. Like you didn't want to let him go.

Are you even asleep at this point? Mike spares a glance up at your face as he licks every trace of your taste off his hand. Somehow, you still seemed to be unconscious, through everything. He could imagine you faking it, pretending to be helpless knowing he'd do all the work for you. And he would, too. Mike would always take care of his pretty girl.

Still, he has to know for sure. It takes a little maneuvering, but in a few moments he's positioned over you, using all his willpower not to grind his stiff bulge into your pussy.

"Gonna fuck you, princess," he whispers, lips ghosting against the shell of your ear as he plants a quick kiss to the side of your head. No response.

Mike decides to push his luck even further, hiking your legs up on his shoulders and folding you over into an absolutely filthy mating press. He was so worked up from teasing you he couldn't even be bothered to fully kick off his underwear, simply pulling it down around his thighs as he lined himself up with your entrance. His poor cock was red-tipped and leaking precum that soaked him down to the base. A perfect match for your own soaked pussy.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to finish. You started creaming around his cock after just a few shallow thrusts, pussy convulsing and milking every drop of cum from him. Mike swears he saw your eyes flutter open for a moment as your orgasm hit, shallow breaths and small whimpers music to his ears as he rode out the high.

As his pulse settled and dick softened, Mike melted into the bed next to you. He wasn't going to worry about clean up yet, not wanting to waste this time with you. No, he'd just throw a blanket over you both and worry about it later. Out of sight, out of mind.

Part of him couldn't believe you were still fucking sleeping after all his effort. Maybe he'd been working you too hard lately, or maybe you'd just built a tolerance over the months of sharing a bed with him. You may have mentioned his tendency to toss and turn in his sleep a few times. Oops. Was he that bad?

Mike wraps a strong arm around your torso, picking you up and guiding you to rest on his chest, no longer worried about the possibility of waking you. He drifted back off to sleep holding you in his arms, whispering a quick "thank you, baby".

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

When you finally wake up a couple hours later, Mike just smiles and nods as you tell him about the "wet dream" you had. He's content to lay there with you all morning, stroking your hair and listening to you babble into his chest.

"It felt so real, Mikey. You don't understand." You sigh longingly, tilting your head and focusing sleepy eyes on his.

Mike got the hint from your bedroom eyes alone. The pleading little pout was definitely overkill. Any other morning, he would have fallen victim right away, eagerly scrambling to undress you and lay claim to that perfect body.

However, with earlier satisfaction to tide him over, he had time to tease.

"Oh? I wouldn't understand?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"No!" you insist, shaking your head vehemently. "I don't think I've ever had a dream that strong. I... I think I might have actually..."

Mike just chuckles as you squirm in his arms, eyes going glassy and glazed over as you recall the vivid dream.

"Why are you so damn smug, Michael?" Your demeaner shifts in an instant, playfully nipping at his neck in mock anger. "It was dream Mike who made me cum. You're just lying here like a lump."

He scoffs and grabs at your wrist, pulling away the accusatory finger jabbing into his chest. "You sure about that sweetheart? Didn't you go to bed with panties on?"

For a moment, you just freeze. Mike watches the gears turn in your head as you make the connection, his smile only growing more smug. He had been wondering how long it'd take for you to notice his cum dripping down your thighs.

"Mike! You... you didn't..." gasping, you scan his face for any sign of dishonesty. Was this really happening? Did he really use you while you were asleep?

The chuckle that slips through his lips solidifies it for you, and suddenly you're very aware of just how bare your lower half is. That bastard.

Not that you didn't want it, oh the contrary. This was a dream. Literally. But the fact he'd let you gush over your wet dream to him in detail? Without telling you the truth?

Oh, that deserved punishment.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you squeal, sitting up and slamming a pillow onto his face with both hands.

Finally, Mike can't hold back anymore, and laughs. A true, genuine laugh that you only get to hear in rare moments of joy like this. Even muffled as it is through the pillow, it makes you smile.

He lets you feel like you're in control for all of sixty seconds, only using half his strength to push back against you as you smother him triumphantly.

In one quick, decisive swoop, Mike ends the little play wrestling match by flipping you over. He's on top of you now, forehead pressed against yours as he whispers mere centimeters from your lips.

"M'not letting you sleep through round two, sweetheart."

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Reminder that you should follow me on @stop-talking-vtwo if you only want to be updated for new fic drops and not my shitposts <3

masterlist

[jealousjersey]

i have more ideas trust i am so back

his lucky charm

josh futturman x fem reader blurb - smut

JOSH keeps a pair of your panties in his pocket. it reminds him of you when he’s at work, going into the supply closet to jerk into it when he igets bored, god he misses you. he holds your lace panties in his hands and wraps his tip into the cloth, closing his eyes tightly as he precedes to glide his hand down his shaft. his mind lusting over you, going back to the memories of how warm and tight you felt, how soft your skin is, how much he fucking misses you.

his hand pumps his cock, moaning your name under his breath. his tip is sticky with precum, soaking all through your panties. he brings them up to his nose to smell you, moaning as he does. his dick twitches i bc his hands, feeling so good to be touched by himself. your perfume fills his nose, his mind aches of you. soft moans slip his lips while his cock jerks with need. his hips rock against his hand. his mouth opens in pleasure, tongue darting out as he imagines making out with you. kissing you always got him hard.

he feels the pool in his stomach, feeling his orgasm come. his movements speed up, the veins in his cock become more prominent. his balls constrict while his tip spews out a creamy, dripping liquid. the substance being caught by your panties, thank god he had them to clean up with. he lets out a few more pumps on his dick, making sure he’s all empty.

you’re his lucky charm.

tags: (interact if you want to!)

@killerpixel @lile6969 @stop-talking @janitorhutcherson @xcherryerim

[jealousjersey]

his lucky charm

josh futturman x fem reader blurb - smut

JOSH keeps a pair of your panties in his pocket. it reminds him of you when he’s at work, going into the supply closet to jerk into it when he igets bored, god he misses you. he holds your lace panties in his hands and wraps his tip into the cloth, closing his eyes tightly as he precedes to glide his hand down his shaft. his mind lusting over you, going back to the memories of how warm and tight you felt, how soft your skin is, how much he fucking misses you.

his hand pumps his cock, moaning your name under his breath. his tip is sticky with precum, soaking all through your panties. he brings them up to his nose to smell you, moaning as he does. his dick twitches i bc his hands, feeling so good to be touched by himself. your perfume fills his nose, his mind aches of you. soft moans slip his lips while his cock jerks with need. his hips rock against his hand. his mouth opens in pleasure, tongue darting out as he imagines making out with you. kissing you always got him hard.

he feels the pool in his stomach, feeling his orgasm come. his movements speed up, the veins in his cock become more prominent. his balls constrict while his tip spews out a creamy, dripping liquid. the substance being caught by your panties, thank god he had them to clean up with. he lets out a few more pumps on his dick, making sure he’s all empty.

you’re his lucky charm.

tags: (interact if you want to!)

@killerpixel @lile6969 @stop-talking @janitorhutcherson @xcherryerim