ar4chn333

[ar4chn333]

Need some subby Michael bc I just know that man whimpers

Sub!michael bluth x fem!reader head cannons

I LOVE. This request. I’ve decided to make this a head cannon post but I do have a micheal smut in the works so stay tuned!

Obviously smut and nsfw warning, pre established relationship, fem!reader, riding, oral m!receiving, praise kink

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I think Michael is truly such a softy. Like of course he can be rough if he’s angry with his family or if he hasn’t seen you in awhile, but he’s sooooo subby.

When he’s had a bad day, his favorite thing is to let you ride him. He becomes a big baby, he loves when you take care of him. He just holds you and softly moans your name and small praises

“Thank you, sweetheart. I needed that.”

He’s very sweet. Like just the biggest sweetheart. He’s the type of guy to talk a big game while you’re out at dinner but when you get home he’s the one begging.

��Please, (y/n)? I need you.”

He’s definitely a switch, he grew up with that toxic masculinity so of course he likes to prove he can take control, but after awhile of being together he shows his true submissive colors.

Praise kink? Definitely. He loves any praise from you, in and out of the bedroom. Wether it’s letting him know he did a good job regarding something at the Bluth company, or telling him how adorable he looks under you. He loves a good compliment.

“You’re so pretty, Michael.”

This man falls apart at the feeling of your touch. He is such a whimperer. In the beginning of your relationship he definitely got embarrassed and tried to suppress it, but it didn’t take long for him to get comfortable and let go completely.

He loves being with someone who allows him to be himself in this way.

Of course, Michael is so caring and attentive. He cares so much about the needs of everyone he loves, including you. Especially you. When you ride him or suck him off he always makes sure you’re comfortable and he always tells you how great you’re doing.

“Yes, perfect. Just like that, baby.”

He also loves to gently grasp your hair or your hips. Just to help you out.

While he is rather submissive during sex, afterwards he always makes sure he’s the one taking care of you. He’s a big cuddle guy, he also makes sure you’re clean and that you’ve gone to the bathroom after. Its his way of paying you back.

Michael MELTS when you kiss him. He loves the more intimate/romantic type of love making as apposed to rough or mean.

He’s also not the biggest fan of quickies as he loves to take his time and set the mood perfectly

“Let’s wait until we get home, sweetheart, okay?”

but sometimes when you visit his office on his lunch break during a particularly bad day, you can tell he’s stressed and you straddle his waist immediately, the second you start grinding against him he’ll give in (as if he wasn’t praying it would happen)

“Fuck… Just make sure the doors locked…”

[ar4chn333]

“There’s a party in your pants…and no one is invited,” so they say. Little do they know I’ve been on Prozac since I was 14 so there’s no party—just a funeral and nobody’s there except for the dead guy.

[ar4chn333]

[ar4chn333]

The sexual tension between me and writing a 40+ word sentence and then ignoring grammarly’s suggestion to break it in half.

[ar4chn333]

Doing the lord’s work 🫡🫡🫡

[ar4chn333]

“I Just Got You Back”

Michael Bluth x fem reader

Summary:

You and Michael shared your chaotic childhoods as best friends until your father moves your family away, devastating both of you. Twelve years later, you reunite. Convincing Michael to take the day off work, you revisit old memories…and make some spicy new ones. (2,473 words)

Contents:

Pörn with plot, p in v, praise, f!ngering, kinda tooth-rotty ngl, friends to lovers, x fem reader

Waiting anxiously a few feet from the door, you quickly fix your hair, pushing it behind your ear. Your mother steps ahead of you, giving the door three knocks before stepping back by your side.

“Let’s hope Lucielle has wine,” she chirps.

“Please,” you chuckle softly, careful not to be heard through the door. “If there’s one thing I remember about Lucielle, it’s the attitude–and the alcohol.”

“Amen,” your mom smiles in your direction, raising her eyebrows in anticipation, clearly excited to see her friend of over 40 years. Truthfully, you didn’t care much for Lucille. She was quite harsh and you remember her outright insulting you as a child but you didn’t mind if it meant you got to see Michael. The two of you spent long, hot summers in the Bluth banana stand, teasing each other, commiserating, and of course, half-assedly selling frozen bananas. You jump a little when the door to the model home swings open and out pops Lucielle who promptly hugs your mother then does the same to you.

“Got rid of that deadbeat husband, I see Jennifer?” Lucielle blurts.

“You should have seen the divorce party,” your mom retorts, giggling.

Lucille motions you two inside, making a bee-line into the kitchen to pour another drink. “You’re old enough to drink now, right?” she asks you. “Oh, yes, though I’ll have some later, thank you,” you reply. Lucielle rolls her eyes playfully as she takes a sip and hands your mom a glass. The two start chatting away and you prepare for a long night of third-wheeling two drunk middle-aged women. However, you hear footsteps coming from upstairs and a man’s voice, seemingly trailing up and down the upper floor plan. You wonder if it’s George, though the voice is much smoother than his, and you can’t make out many of the words. You turn back to the women’s conversation, deciding the mysterious noise is none of your business.

A few moments later you hear footsteps descending the stairwell. Whipping your head around, you see a man in a light blue button-up shirt, khaki pants, and a maroon tie with a phone up to his ear, which he promptly shuts upon landing on the first floor. He looks up. It takes a moment for your brain to register who he is, but when it finally does, you dart out of your chair.

“Michael! Oh my god!”

“y/n!”

He wraps you in a bear hug, nearly lifting you off of the floor. Senses overwhelmed by the scent of cologne and the warmth of his body, you sink into him ever so slightly. After a couple seconds you briefly pull away, your arms still on his, to look at him. He’s gorgeous and has grown into his stunning blue eyes perfectly.

“How long has it been? Ten-ish years?” He says, beaming.

“More like twelve,” you retort, having actually counted beforehand during the car ride over.

“Gosh, you’re beautiful,” he says softly before chuckling nervously, as if the comment were a knee-jerk reaction. He smiles sheepishly, hand traveling to the back of his head. “Thank you,” you reply blushing and looking away briefly, stomach alight with butterflies.

Michael pulls out his phone, holding it up. “I really wish I could stay and chat but I have to head back to the office–Gob is causing trouble again.”

“Oh lord, what this time?”

“Can I tell you tonight? I’ll be back around 7.”

“I see you’re grown into your work ethic too huh? That’s not the Michael I remember at the banana stand,” you chuckle.

“No kidding, I can’t seem to catch a break.”

“Are you sure you can’t take today off? We could go to the banana stand and walk around!”

“I’m sorry y/n, Gob’s a handful and I’ve got to take care of this.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tonight then,” you say fake-pouting. He awkwardly places his hand on your shoulder for a brief moment and begins to walk towards the door. “You’d think the place is imploding with the way he acts,” shouts Lucielle with every intention of Michael hearing it. He turns back around to glare at her before locking eyes with you. Perhaps childishly, you make a fake explosion sound with an accompanying dramatic gesture from your hands. He pauses for a moment, looking back at his phone, then once again at you.

“Screw it, let’s go.”

Smiling ear-to-ear, you hop into his car and head to the banana stand. Walking around, you exchange stories of your childhood together–the banana stand, the bike rides, and burns from attempting to operate the cornballer. Though you leave it unsaid, you once again feel the pain of being thirteen and leaving Michael behind when your Dad decided to set up his company headquarters far outside of California. The pit in your stomach begins to subside when you glance back at the banana stand as the two of you walk past. The night before you left, the two of you were stocking supplies when you began to cry about your life being uprooted and most of all, losing your best friend. He kissed you that night. Your first kiss ever–and his too. Leaving broke your heart.

The two of you grab dinner and you find him to be just as funny, charming, and awkward as you left him, only now, he was devastatingly handsome. You talk about your respective jobs, ambitions, and hopes over the food, collectively realizing how weird your childhoods were–but at least you had eachother for most of it.

The two of you pull into the driveway, and he opens the door for you as you exit the car with the sweetest smile on his face as he holds your hand to help you up. You see your mom’s car and figure she’s probably passed out along with Lucielle. “I think your ride is probably asleep,” says Michael. “You’re more than welcome to spend the night, we have a spare bedroom for you to use.”

“Thank you, I’m not drunk or anything, but it certainly wouldn’t be safe for me to drive, much less attempt to wake my mother,” you chirp.

He opens the door to the house slowly and lets you inside. The lights are off so you tip-toe around to the stairs. “Where’s the extra bedroom?” You ask.

“Up here and to the right–I’ll show you,” he replies.

“Oh, perfect,” you let out with a relieved sigh, flopping on the bed, certainly feeling the sedative effects of the alcohol. “Any chance I could get some clothes to sleep in?”

“Sure! I have a shirt you could wear.”

Michael walks out of the room–the light still off with you perched on the bed. You’d have to travel back to your place in the morning. Though it was only a couple of hours away, you felt like Michael was being taken away from you again and it hurt all the same. You wanted more of him–to be around him, to talk about nothing and everything…to touch him.

He walks back into the room with a baggy shirt in hand, backlit by the slight light of the hallway. Hopping up, you glide toward him, reaching your arms out. He hugs you deeply and you feel his heart through his chest and his breath on your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine.

“I feel like I just got you back,” he says, still embracing you. Slowly, he pulls away, his arms still wrapped around you. And for a brief moment, you just look at eachother. As if in sync, your faces move towards each other, his soft lips making contact with yours. He starts slowly, savoring every moment he tastes you, the texture of his stubble on your face making you melt. Pulling you in closer he deepens the kiss, smiling when an ever-so-slight sound escapes your lips. Your hand slides up his back, to his neck, and finally to his hair which you run your fingers through, gripping it slightly as he presses against you. The feeling of your hand on him causes him to breathe deeply against you, hungry for your touch.

“You’re burning up,” he says. You look at him concerned, cheeks and chest flushed a bright red. Eventually you realize what he means.

“It just means I’m enjoying this,” you chuckle, going in for another kiss. His hands trail farther down to your lower back and eventually to your hips. You let out a slight gasp as he pulls them towards his body. Almost out of instinct, you wrap your arms around his neck and jump, your thighs resting on his hips and your legs wrapped around him. Forearms on your legs, his hands cup your ass, giving it a squeeze as he carries you towards the wall. Back on the wall, you let out a moan as he leans into you. His lips trail from your jaw to your neck, sucking lightly against the tender skin. You feel him getting hard from inside his pants as your nails drag along the shirt on his back.

“I want you, y/n. And not just tonight–I want you with me. I can’t lose you again,” he whispers.

“You won’t lose me–you’re stuck with me now,” you giggle, pausing to lock eyes with him. You lean closer once again, lips almost touching his “So fuck me, Michael.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Spinning you around to the bed, he lays you down gently, once again trailing kisses down your neck. When he gets to your collarbone, his hands begin to reach up your shirt, fingers tracing along your ribs and to your tits. He lifts your shirt off, sitting up for a second to admire you laid out for him, legs around his hips. You get a little shy, covering your breasts with your arms but he pulls them away continuing his trail of kisses from your collar bone to your sternum and finally to your nipple. Your back arches at the sensation of his mouth, tongue circling and lips sucking. Moaning softly, your hands tug on the back of his shirt, eager to feel the skin of his torso against yours. You reach down to unbutton his shirt before stripping off his undershirt.

“You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he coos. You look down at him as his lips continue down your body, his mouth emitting the smallest sounds as he licks and sucks, driving you wild. Kissing just before the band of your underwear, you let out a moan, desperate for him. “Good girl,” he whispers. His words send shivers down your body, your underwear now drenched in anticipation. Slowly, he pulls off your pants, noticing your legs shaking for him already. He puts his hand over your most sensitive region, looking up at your expression–brows furrowed and mouth agape at his touch.

“Fuck, Michael, you feel so good,” you whine.

“I haven’t even started yet,” he whispers deviantly.

His fingers trace along your pantyline, pulling them down at a painfully slow pace, causing you to squirm underneath him. Running a finger through your folds, you whimper at the pleasure.

“Please, Michael.”

At the sound of your words, his middle and index fingers begin to circle your clit. Your hand reaches to clench the bedsheets while the other occupies itself with his soft brown hair. Your back arches suddenly and you buck your hips against him. Your moans become louder but are soon muffled by his mouth against yours. “That’s my good girl, so sensitive.” No sooner than he finishes his sentence, he slips his fingers inside of you, thumb now circling your clit. Curling them, he hits your g spot as you claw at his back, body pulsating with pleasure. “You’re doing so well, baby. It feels like you’re ready for me,” he coos.

“Please, Michael, I want your cock inside me,” you moan, locking eyes with him. His pupils widen as you palm him through his pants, biting your lip. He lets out a groan, sounding almost like the growl of an animal as he grows painfully hard. Sitting up, he undoes his belt in front of you as your hands trace the inside of your thighs, ready for him. Slipping off his pants, he raises one of your legs over his shoulder. Locking eyes with you, his hand runs the tip of his cock along your folds as your head tilts back in pleasure. Lining up with your entrance, he presses slightly into you, gasping at the feeling of your pussy. His hips slowly descend towards yours, cock pressing further and further into you. You let out a small whimper at his size, but quickly adjust to take him in.

“Oh Michael,” you let out, along with a stream of unintelligible whimpers.

He begins to slide his cock in and out of you, slowly, as not to hurt you. The delicious sounds that escape his mouth ring distinctly in your ears, causing you to clench around his member. You look down to see his hips colliding into yours, your legs shaking around him, buzzing with warmth and electricity at the feeling of him inside of you. He moves faster, pushing into you with increasing force and eliciting yelps upon contact.

“Shh baby, we don’t want to wake them up,” he says while continuing to pound you. Clearly unable to hold in your sounds, he slips two fingers into your mouth and your lips close obediently around them. You taste yourself on his fingers, moans escaping in the form of high-pitched hums in rhythm with his strokes.

A knot begins to form in your stomach as he fucks you, winding tighter every time he slides his cock into you. His thrusts grow more erratic, his mouth agape, on the verge of unwinding. He then takes your other leg, placing it over his shoulder, causing his cock to hit the perfect spot inside of you as you squirm and buck beneath him.

“You feel so good, baby,” he coos, pulling his fingers out of your mouth.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Michael!” you yelp.

Warmth runs over your body and the string comprising the knot in your stomach is pulled on like a ripcord, unraveling furiously. Your body shakes and your whimpers break in time with his movement while an electrical current overtakes your body with pleasure. Michael follows soon behind, cumming as his moans echo in the room and his thrusts dissipate.

He rolls over beside you as your arms cling to him, your head resting on his shoulder. “I missed you so much–I missed my best friend,” you whisper.

“I missed you too, y/n,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Come biking along the beach with me tomorrow.”

“I would love that,” you whisper, smiling ear to ear.

Author’s note in comments💕💕💕

[ar4chn333]

Ok hear me out! Michael Bluth x childhood friend reader that moved away and they reunite as adults. She convinces him to take a day off and have fun and he's just all goofy and awkward. Just an idea... idk... Btw your writing is awesome ok bye bye 🫣

Aweeeee tyyyyyyyyy!!! This is my next prompt for sure!!😘😘 you’ve now been promoted to favorite moot😂

[ar4chn333]

I need to be fücking spayed

[ar4chn333]

started arrested development and i would kill this guy with hammers. such a sweet princess

[ar4chn333]

These always hit smmmmm

“english isn’t my first langua—“ say no more.

[ar4chn333]

girlhood is staying up late to read the top posts in an x reader tag

[ar4chn333]

“One More Night”

Michael Bluth x fem reader

Smut ahead!!

Fem reader, p in v, explicit consent (very seggsy), soft dominant Michael

Probably my best work, ngl

…

“Don’t stay up talking too late, guys! Good night!” You chirp as you give George Michael and Maeby a soft smile before turning off their bedroom light and shutting the door. Letting out a sigh of relief, you find your shoulders dropping at the thought of finally being able to return to your own house. Though you loved spending time with George Michael and Maeby, you were ready to sink into the warmth of your covers. Michael had left on a business trip five days ago and needed someone to care for George Michael while he was gone. God knows he couldn’t rely on any of his siblings to do so. You offered to look after Maeby too, though she was plenty used to being without a guardian. Your family was quite close to the Bluths, having designed cabinets for their homes for over twenty years.

Though you’d met Lucille and George plenty of times during their business meetings with your parents as a child, you’d never seen Michael until a couple of months ago. God, was he gorgeous. Overcome with butterflies, you’d only spoken a few words to him in your first meeting and felt a twinge of guilt for fawning over a man so many years your senior. But the way he smiled at you sent waves of tingliness through your chest, words oftentimes failing to form at the sight of his devastatingly beautiful blue eyes. The tension between you could practically be cut with a butter knife as you two saw each other more, but neither was bold enough to make a move. Naturally, when he called you in need of a last-minute babysitter, you were more than happy to help him.

…

10:30 pm? Michael was supposed to be home by now to relieve you of babysitting duties. Looking over at your phone, you see a text from Michael.

“Got off the flight a tad later than expected, will be home around 11:00.”

“No worries!” you reply.

Drained from the day, you flop on the couch in the living room, quickly drifting off to sleep. Cuddled up with a blanket, your hair splays delicately along the pillow. Resting dreamlessly, you await Michael patiently. Suddenly, you jolt sharply at the sensation of Michael’s hand on your shoulder, waking you. Inhaling quickly, you look up at him, surprised for a moment, but your face quickly softens. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says sympathetically, carefully removing his hand from your shoulder. You wish it had stayed. “I’m so sorry I’m late—my flight was delayed,” he says. “No worries! I was practically passed out, so I barely noticed,” you reply mid-yawn. “I better get going if I’m going to make it home before I pass out again. George Michael, Maeby, and I had a ton of fun.” you chirp.

He pauses, mouth opening as if to form a sentence. He hesitates, but eventually his words come spilling out. “Why don’t you sleep here tonight? It's dangerous to dive tired. You can use my room like you have been, so you don’t have to move your stuff, and I’ll crash out in the living room.” You lived around thirty minutes away and were certainly not looking forward to the drive. Admittedly, you were a bit giddy about spending more time with Michael, even if it meant simply waking up and seeing him and the kids briefly before you left. “That’ll probably be a good idea, I’m absolutely exhausted,” you reply groggily. “I can imagine–they’re a handful,” he sighs knowingly.

You walk up the stairs to Michael’s room, where you’d left your things from sleeping there while babysitting, and begin to change into your sleeping clothes. Your body tingles with adrenaline from the conversation you had not one minute ago, suddenly awake. You wonder if he feels the same. Sitting on the bed, you promise yourself you’ll confess your feelings in the morning–or at least hint at them. Just then, a knock comes at the door.

“Hey! So sorry, I just need to get something from my dresser. Are you decent?” He calls through the door.

“Oh! Yes! Come on in!” you say instinctively. Though perhaps you should have covered up first as your bottoms were quite short, and the shape of your nipples showed through your cami in plain view as you sat upright on the bed.

Walking in, you caught his eye, provoking a split-second wide-eyed look before he respectfully turned away and went about fishing clothes out of his dresser. “Did George Michael and Maeby behave okay?”

“They were wonderful! I think I finally got Maeby to like me! She only rolled her eyes at me thrice.” you chuckle.

“That’s got to be some kind of record,” he adds, smiling toward you, eyes shining in the warm yellow light of his bedroom.

His gaze lingers, the tension growing thicker before he somewhat abruptly turns away and says, “Good night! See you in the morning!”

“Michael…” you call out softly, his hand on the bedroom doorknob. Lifting yourself off from the seat of your bed, your body rages with adrenaline. His eyes widen as you walk slowly toward him. You search for something–anything to indicate he wanted you as much as you wanted him. You reach out an arm to touch his shoulder. “Good nigh–” you begin, but before you make contact, he lunges towards you, one arm wrapping around your torso, the other on your cheek, pulling you against his hungry lips. The feeling of his warmth next to you is enough to make you melt, his taste so delicious you feel like you’d been a woman starved. He pulls back briefly to make eye contact, his face flushed. Smiling, you pull him into another kiss as he locks the door to the room. His touches grow deeper and heavier, and his breaths against your mouth ring distinctly in the tone of his voice, making you grow wetter by the second. His hands make their way about your waist, caressing and pulling you flush against him. They wander down to your ass, and you instinctively jump onto his hips, arms wrapping around his neck, your lips never losing contact for a moment. Sensing the ground moving beneath you, you soon feel the pressure of the bedroom wall on your back. Michael presses his hips closer to yours, and you let out a desperate moan, hand tightening its grip on his hair.

Michael feels the heat radiating from between your legs, your entire torso burning with want for him. Your whimpering sounds testify to your desperate need for him, making him feel like an animal, subtle growls escaping his lips as his tongue meets yours. Pulling back just briefly, “Do you want this?” he asks. You tighten your grip on his hair, pulling his ear toward your mouth with a firm but gentle force. “I want you to fuck me, Michael,” you coo, inhibition having left your body long ago. He didn’t need to be told twice. He spins around, now facing the bed, and you fall back onto it as he climbs on top of you. Lifting your shirt off your head, he grips your breast while leaving sloppy kisses on your neck and collarbone, moaning at the taste of your skin. Head trailing down, his mouth makes contact with your nipple, causing you to arch your back, pressing your chest closer to him. The texture of his soft lips and rough stubble send chills down your torso. Writhing beneath him, you feel his cock rock-hard beneath his pants. “I want you inside of me,” you whisper impatiently.

Sliding a hand to your shorts, he places a hand over your lower stomach, just above your underwear, savoring your lewd expressions, brows furrowed, mouth agape. Teasing you, his fingers slide along the upper hem of your panties, watching intently as you yearn for him to touch you. Your hand trails down to push his closer to your heat, but he catches your wrist mid-travel and, with the same hand, grasps your other wrist, pinning them singlehandedly over your head. An impish look spreads across his face as you struggle against him, unable to find your release, its potential energy building by the second. “Be patient, baby, I’m gonna savor you.” Biting your lip, your eyes lock, and his hand slowly slides beneath your underwear, where he slides a finger through your folds, eliciting a breathy moan. With your arms still hopelessly pinned, he begins to circle your clit, your hips bucking involuntarily at the sensation. Looking down at his hand, you see the muscles in his forearm moving, overlaid by his watch glittering in the light as he continues to pleasure you.

You groan as he takes his hands off of you to stand and undo his belt, your legs spread open for him, palms lining the inside of your thighs, which begin to tremble slightly in anticipation. He practically rips off his shirt, hair flying messily over his forehead as his belt clinks on the floor. He looks down at you–you’re doe-eyed, fully exposed, and ready for him to fuck you. Hard. Freeing his throbbing cock, he slides his torso between your legs, placing one atop his shoulder. “God, he’s fucking perfect,” you think to yourself. He slides the tip of his member up and down your folds, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. You gasp in unison as he presses his tip into you, sliding himself forward. He’s sizeable, to say the least, eliciting a whimper from you as you adjust to him. “Fuck, Michael,” you wince in a tone of half pleasure, half pain as he fills you up. “Shh, baby, you’ll wake the kids,” he coos, putting a firm finger to your lips. Before he finishes the sentence, his hips begin to rock against yours, cock sliding against your walls. You don’t want to wake them, but you can’t help the sounds you make as he thrusts inside of you, each movement building the knot of pleasure in your stomach. You whimper pathetically and uncontrollably as he fucks you. His fingers trail along your neck and to your jaw, index and pointer making their way into your mouth, your lips wrapping around them. Sucking gently, your moans are reduced to high-pitched hums, making way for you to hear more of his delicious sounds. “You feel so good, y/n,” he groans in a sultry voice, his eyes locking with yours.

Removing his hand from your mouth, he places it beside you to leverage his increasingly powerful thrusts. “Oh, Michael!” Moans escape from your lips in rapid succession as he pounds your throbbing pussy, hips crashing into yours. “Good girl, take it.” Hand traveling to the headboard to keep you in place, your body begins to shake uncontrollably around his cock. Eyes rolling back, waves of hot electricity force their way through your body, the strings comprising the knot in your stomach pull like a ripcord against it, unraveling fully. Yelps escaping from your mouth, you grasp desperately at Michael's back, nails clawing at his skin as he fucks you through your orgasm. He follows shortly behind, moaning into your open mouth as he comes inside of you.

In the afterglow of your releases, Michael lays down beside you, holding your body close to his. His breathing rings warmly in your ears. “I’m glad you stayed for one more night,” he whispers. “Me too,” you reply, gazing into his perfect eyes. Smiling, he coos in your ear, “I’d love for you to stay for more–and days, of course.” Your face lights up, beaming at his suggestion. “I would love that too. Though I might need some help getting to the bathroom. I get the feeling I won’t be able to walk if I try to stand,” you chuckle.

💕I hope y’all liked it!! Author’s note in comments💕

[ar4chn333]

I have something in the worksssss! It’s a Michael bluth x babysitter typa deal (I know this plot is really common for dilfs but hear me out). It’s definitely a bit saucier than my last fic. Also, I no longer feel weird about writing spicy stuff on my computer—it definitely felt incriminating there for a hot minute 😂

[ar4chn333]

reading my own fics like "omg she cooked who wrote thisssss"

[ar4chn333]

I made the mistake of reading the smut I wrote while ovulating…highkey embarrassing. Currently having a post ovulation clarity moment. I hope y’all still like it though😂

[ar4chn333]

Michael Bluth x fem reader

“The First Time”

Pre established relationship, p in v, f!ngering, he’s highkey sweet

This is my first time writing smût so lmk what you think & leave suggestions 💕💕💕

The anticipation–like the silence just before a clap of thunder so loud it reverberates in your chest. Michael pushes open the ornate door for you, trailing no more than a foot behind you. A tingly sensation races across your back, hairs standing delightfully on end, skin buzzing as if it somehow knew that tonight was the night. He’d finally allowed himself a day off from work and his tireless struggle to manage his siblings–the practical equivalent of herding cats. On this particular day, he decided to take you to a vintage, beautifully ornate hotel, every wall, curtain, and piece of furniture reminiscent of old Hollywood. Bluth Company had been performing very well recently, so Michael didn’t mind spoiling you a bit, though he would never tell Lindsay, her response surely one accusing Michael of hypocrisy for indulging in luxuries. You two had just gotten home from a relaxing dinner–heart and head buzzing with the lightness of two glasses of wine, generating a gentle heat in your lower abdomen.

Delicately lit, the entire hotel room took on a yellow-orange hue, decorating your surroundings with a golden tint. The door shuts behind you, and Michael gently places his hand on your lower back, guiding you to the back of the suite.

“I loved dinner,” you say softly.

“Me too. You know, I’m still nervous about leaving George Michael with Gob. Hopefully, none of his ‘Gobness’ will rub off,” he says.

“George Michael’s got a good head on his shoulders. I’m sure he’ll prove immune to a small dosage of ‘Gobness.’” You chuckle.

You catch a glimpse of him as he lets out a small laugh, his shoulders relaxing a bit. You had that effect on him–when his world became chaotic, you created a peaceful bubble for him to retreat into. You had a job, but Michael was juggling being a parent, business president, and defacto keeper of his siblings–a much heavier load that you bore. Michael knew it was trite to refer to one’s partner as their “peace,” but it really was true.

You’d started dating him three months earlier and had decided to wait to get intimate–until now. You both knew what was about to happen. He trails after you into the bedroom, a king-size not ten feet from you two; you feel his arm snake around to the front of your torso as your bodies stop in front of the bed frame. With his right hand on your lower stomach, dangerously close to the band of your underwear, he uses his left hand to sweep your hair apart from your neck, breathing softly onto your skin–an action that sends electricity down your spine and directly into your panties. Pressing your body into him with the back of your head draped over his shoulder, you invite him to kiss the tender skin of your neck. His soft lips make contact, making their way up and down the length of your neck, your hand reaching up to grab a fistful of his brown hair. He lets out an ever-so-soft sound–almost that of a purr, and his kissing grows deeper, the texture of his stubble grazes along your skin as his mouth opens and closes to savor your taste.

You feel him through his pants as your back arches, hips pressing into his. Unable to hold off any longer, you spin around, lips crashing into his, their pace accelerating quickly. Pulling your lower back towards his torso, he slips a leg between your thighs, causing you to let out an airy moan directly into his mouth. He carefully unzips your dress at the sound, slowly reaching up to the spaghetti straps before pulling back briefly and looking at you directly–eyes glazed with desire. You nod, giving him permission to go further. He pulls the straps off, and you shimmy the dress to the floor. Michael takes a moment to admire you.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous, y/n. You know that?”

The compliment, though appreciated, causes a wave of shyness to wash over you, your arms sliding up to cover your bare chest. Gently pulling your hands away, Michael pulls you into another kiss, his right hand caressing your breast, an action that sends a chill down the front of your abdomen. Feeling a bit exposed at the loss of your dress, your heart began to pound faster, feelings of giddy nervousness compounding the heat building between your legs.

God, he wanted you. He’d waited three agonizing months, and now you were his. Your soft skin radiating with heat, he felt like a fucking animal–every cell in his body urging him to devour you whole. But he knew he had to be gentle, mirroring your pace exactly as to make sure you knew you were safe.

He pulls your hips up onto him hungrily; you jump and wrap your legs around his body, one hand occupied with a tuft of hair and the other sliding against the stubble on his jaw, holding his face close as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

Leaning over you, he drops you carefully on the bed, your thighs still splayed around his hips, your calves pulling his body delightfully closer to yours. The sheer weight of him pressing against you is enough to make you moan softly into his mouth, legs beginning to tremble ever so slightly at the taste of him. As he sits up to unbutton his shirt, you follow. “Let me,” you coo, shakily undoing the buttons, a painfully slow process. You catch him looking at you as you peel his shirt off, quickly lifting up his white undershirt. Crawling on top of you, the bare skin of his chest makes contact with yours, igniting a tingling heat in your clit as you feel the hardness of his manhood directly over the fabric of your panties. Sliding down, his mouth latches onto your nipple, sucking as you moan, gently scratching his back. You hold his head against your chest, immersed in the feeling of his warm mouth on your breasts and hands running up and down your ribs. Waves of icy, tingly heat pulse through your midsection, so intense Michael can practically feel them through your skin–a testament to your want for him. Impatient and ready for more, “I’m ready for you,” you sigh. His blue eyes make contact with yours, and without hesitation, his hand reaches down to cup your mound as you buck into the pressure. He watches as your jaw drops, making way for a sharp inhale in reaction to his touch. Letting out a shuddering breath, he slides your panties to the side and slowly swipes a finger through your folds, causing you to let out a small yelp–you weren't usually this sensitive, and you couldn’t help but express the pleasure he brought you. Loving every sound you make, his middle and ring finger make their way to circle your clit, the space between your thighs raging with heat. You don’t care who hears your rugged breaths and cries of pleasure; your world only consists of him right now–he makes sure of it. Hands occupied, his mouth makes its way back to your neck, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses as you writhe beneath him. Your moans follow the rhythm of his fingers, hearing the sounds of his fingers against your folds, a damp spot on the sheets forming underneath you. “You’re so wet for me, beautiful,” he whispers, pushing with more force onto your clit. A knot forms in your stomach–a ball of heat that causes you to call out his name, nails digging forcefully into the flesh of his back, his panting and soft moans in your ears, making you feel as though you’d merged bodies. Though your eyes close, you feel him looking at you as pulses of electricity overtake your body, legs shaking violently on either side of his arm, yelps ringing through the room, chants of his name devolving into unintelligible noises.

He doesn’t leave you much time to recover. Still in a haze, you hear the clinking of his belt as he unfastens his pants, which soon crash onto the floor. Climbing on top of you once more, you pull his hips closer to yours with your ankles, feeling his tip at your entrance. Grabbing him like a python, you trace his head to your clit and back to your entrance. “Fuck, you feel good,” he growls, arms settling around you. Aligning with your entrance, his hips begin their descent toward yours, his tip pushing inside you; he inhales sharply, gasping at the sensation of your walls against his member. The pitch of your moans heighten as he fills the space inside of you. You fucking love the feeling of his body inside of yours. His delicious guttural moans fill the room while his hips rock against yours. Desperately holding his body against you, you look down as he begins to push deeper and harder inside of you. Feeling a knot return to your abdomen, you lock eyes with him. “Let me ride you,” you coo into his ear. Thrusting your hips up, you push him over onto his back and waste no time in mounting his hips again, watching his breathless expression as you push his cock inside of you. Bouncing, you take every inch of him. “y/n, I’m gonna cum,” he moans, brows furrowed as you pick up the pace. Legs burning, you lean towards him, soaking in every carnal sound you elicit from him as he begins to come undone. The knot in your stomach once again unravels, sending waves of heat coursing through your body, your moans colliding with his in the air around you.

Laying limp on top of him, you regain your wits, smiling and letting out a giggle as he does the same. “Holy shit,” he says as you roll off of him. “Holy shit,” you repeat with another giggle, basking in the afterglow. Wordless, you look at each other for a moment, oxytocin running rampant in your headspaces at the sight. “I’m really glad you took the day off,” you say sweetly. “Me too,” he whispers, kissing your forehead.