#dom michael

[mjwhisperer]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝙼𝚊𝚒𝚍

1995

Neverland Ranch

Word Count: 13.1k

Tags: Fem!Reader, Dom!Michael, Light BDSM, Wet & Messy, Boss/Employee Relationship, Creampie, Large PP, Vitiligo PP, Rough Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Spanking.

Full story

For seven years, you had been the perfect maid. His perfect maid, at least. Seven long years spent adhering to Mr. Jackson’s strict, almost suffocating rules. Every single member of staff was held to his exacting standards—no exceptions. Speak only when spoken to, never step foot in his room without explicit permission, the library was off-limits unless granted entry, and his private quarters were sacred ground. Mondays? A day of silence. On those days, he wouldn’t speak, and you weren’t to say a word. When you did address him, you were to meet his gaze directly. Appearances, too, had to meet his meticulous approval—flawless and professional at all times.

But something shifted about four years ago. The rules, those ironclad restrictions, began to change—but only for you. It started with a single encounter that redefined everything. That day, it was just the two of you. No staff. No distractions. Just you and the boss, Mr. Jackson.

He had returned from a meeting, tension radiating from him in waves. He was livid, something entirely unlike his composed day-to-day demeanor. You were in the kitchen, methodically cleaning when you felt his eyes on you—burning, intense.

You had always found him attractive���who wouldn’t? His presence commanded attention, and every woman in the house, perhaps even in the world, knew it. But this time, there was something different. His stare was sharper, hungrier. Slowly, he approached, each footstep echoing in the quiet room. His breath was hot against the nape of your neck, ragged with frustration. Then, his hands—those large, capable hands—gripped your waist, the force of his touch pulling you closer to his solid frame. You could feel him, every inch of his body pressing against yours, heat radiating off him like a furnace.

“Lift your dress, doll,” he had whispered, his voice rough with an edge of command.

Without hesitation, you obeyed, the fabric of your dress sliding up, exposing yourself to him. He pressed even harder against you, his erection straining against his trousers, making you breathless. He was so hard it almost seemed impossible.

“Do you want me?” His whisper brushed against your ear like a dark promise.

Those words stayed with you long after that moment. In the kitchen, under the dim lights, he took you. Raw. Every inch of him plunged into you, again and again, relentless in his need to release his pent-up fury. He was rough—nothing like the gentle, composed man the world thought they knew. His hands gripped your hips as he pounded into you, forcing every last drop of stress from his body into yours. When he finally came, his hot seed flooded you, pouring out of you and onto the cold hardwood floor. And just like that, he left. Not a single word as he walked away, leaving you trembling and leaking his warmth behind him.

From that night on, things between you and him were different. Whenever the house was empty, you’d find small, quiet ways to tease him. Sometimes while you were cleaning, you’d lift the hem of your maid’s uniform, revealing the soft bareness beneath, knowing his eyes were on you. Other nights, when you worked late, you’d sneak into his room with his permission. When you were sure he wouldn’t return until late, you’d go to his closet, find one of his thick varsity jackets, and strip down, leaving only your lace panties. You’d slip on the jacket, its warmth enveloping you as you lay in his bed, waiting for his return.

There were nights when you stayed under the guise of “extra work,” but the truth was far more intimate. It was for him. To let him relieve the weight of the day. His body, slick with sweat, would press into yours, his rough hands guiding your hips, his thick shaft stretching you inch by inch. His breath would be hot against your skin, his grunts low and primal. In those moments, you weren’t just the maid. You were his release. His perfect girl.

His perfect maid.

It was a cold December evening, the kind where the chill seeped into your bones and lingered. The sun had already begun its descent, casting a golden hue over the Santa Ynez mountains, leaving long, jagged shadows over Neverland Ranch. The ranch, typically bustling with life, had quieted as staff members trickled out, their shifts coming to an end. You were alone in the living room, methodically cleaning the delicate piano, carefully wiping down the statues and cartoon collectibles that littered the house—a constant reminder of Mr. Jackson’s childlike spirit. It was odd, the juxtaposition between these innocent trinkets and the man himself, a man who could shift from gentle to commanding in the blink of an eye.

Mr. Jackson had spent the entire day locked in his room, resting. None of you questioned it; there were often days where he’d disappear for hours or even days on end. Sometimes, he was at the studio or abroad, and other times he’d remain behind closed doors, dealing with matters only he knew. His presence, though felt, was scarce—a distant but ever-watchful figure.

The large, ornate clock on the wall chimed softly, signaling that it was seven o’clock. The final staff member was meant to leave by now, but you had been anticipating staying longer, as you usually did. Most nights, Mr. Jackson preferred you to linger after everyone else had gone, though today, he hadn’t said a word. It was Monday, after all—his day of silence.

“Hey,” a voice broke the stillness. Mary, one of the other maids, walked up to you, her footsteps echoing in the quiet. “Mind walking me out?”

You placed the duster down on the piano bench, stretching your arms out. “Yeah, I don’t mind.” The two of you walked out of the living room, the sharp click of your heels on the hardwood floor breaking the eerie quiet. As you approached the front door, your eyes darted to the hallway to your left, where those massive double doors to Mr. Jackson’s bedroom stood ominously. For a moment, you hesitated, staring at them, wondering what lay behind them tonight. You quickly looked away before Mary could notice.

“What time do you leave?” she asked casually. “You’re always the last one here.”

You shrugged, pretending nonchalance. “To be honest, I don’t know. Mr. Jackson always lets me know when it’s time to go. Most nights, I don’t leave until nine.” You lied, slipping the words out easily, masking the truth behind the routine.

“Nine?” she repeated, her eyes widening in surprise as she pulled her coat on. “What on earth does he have you doing? Cleaning out the fireplaces?” she teased, but her curiosity was evident.

You shook your head, keeping your expression neutral. “I just do what I can. I need the extra money.” Another lie, but one you had perfected over the years.

Mary chuckled softly, her tone light but laced with something more. “Sure, it’s nothing else? I’ve seen the way Mr. Jackson looks at you, especially on Mondays.”

You shrugged again, feigning indifference. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. I’m just here to work and earn my check, that’s all.” You paused, your voice lowering slightly. “And didn’t he tell us not to gossip about him? You know he hears everything.”

Mary’s eyes widened, and she nodded, suddenly nervous. “You’re right. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Be safe getting home,” she said as she hurried out the door.

“You too,” you called after her, watching as she disappeared down the front steps and into the night. Once she was out of sight, you let out a heavy sigh, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The lock turned with a firm snap, the sound echoing in the now-empty house.

You barely had a moment to breathe before you turned and froze. Standing directly in front of you, as if he had materialized from the shadows, was Mr. Jackson. Dressed in all black, from the tailored button up to the perfectly pressed pants, his presence was both startling and magnetic. His curly hair was pulled back into a low bun, framing his face, while his reading glasses sat perched on the bridge of his nose, catching the dim light. But it was his gold chain that caught your eye, glinting softly against his dark attire.

He had moved so silently, you hadn’t heard a single footstep. His eyes, dark and unreadable, locked onto yours, and for a moment, the air between you felt thick, electric. He didn’t speak—of course, it was Monday—but his gaze spoke volumes, a silent command that made your pulse quicken. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you took him in, every inch of his form radiating an intensity that set your nerves alight.

He didn’t need words to communicate what he wanted. You had always known, from the subtle way he moved to the intensity of his gaze. His body spoke a language only you could understand, a language of desire, control, and need.

Slowly, he extended his hand toward you, his large palm a commanding presence. That hand had become your anchor, the connection between you two—physical, emotional, and everything in between. The mere sight of it sent a jolt through your body, a surge of anticipation that left your skin tingling. When your hand slipped into his, you felt the familiar softness of his skin, the velvety texture against your fingertips. His touch was always electric, like a live wire crackling beneath your skin. Over the years, you had watched the pigment of his skin fade with his vitiligo, but it had never changed the way you felt about him. If anything, it made him more beautiful in your eyes—his fragility matched with a quiet strength that captivated you entirely.

In a smooth motion, he reached for the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. The living room and front entrance dissolved into shadows, but the absence of light only heightened your awareness of him—his presence was all-consuming. Together, you moved down the long hallway toward his bedroom, the sound of your heels clicking against the polished hardwood in sync with the soft shuffle of his sleek penny loafers. Every step brought you closer to what you both knew was inevitable, the tension thick between you.

When you reached the door to his bedroom, he pushed it open with deliberate force, pulling you inside as the door clicked shut behind you. The room was warm, illuminated by the soft flicker of flames in the fireplace, casting golden shadows that danced along the walls. His record player spun slowly in the corner, a sensual jazz melody filling the space with its slow, hypnotic rhythm. The music wasn’t loud; it played like a soft whisper, adding to the intimacy of the room.

Michael stood there, watching you—no, devouring you with his eyes. His gaze was sharp, cutting, as though he could see straight through you to the core of who you were. He always looked at you like this, with a focus that made you feel like the only person in the world, like you were the center of his universe. His stare held you captive, your breath catching in your throat. It was a gaze you could never escape, and you didn’t want to. You thrived under his attention, knowing it was yours and yours alone.

“What?” you whispered, your voice soft, sultry, the tone meant only for him. Your lips curled slightly into a teasing smile as you stepped closer, closing the small distance between your bodies. You grabbed his other hand, holding it gently in yours, feeling the strength in his fingers. His silence was deliberate. It was Monday, and he never broke his rule of silence on these days. But you knew the second the clock struck midnight, he’d unleash everything he held back, his words flowing freely as he spoke with a passion that matched his intensity.

Releasing his hands, you reached up, placing your palms on his broad shoulders, feeling the firm muscles beneath the smooth fabric of his black button-up. The material was soft but did nothing to hide the tension in his body, the coiled energy waiting to be released. Your thumbs brushed over the cool metal of his gold chain, a glint of it catching the firelight as your hands slid higher, skimming up the column of his neck. His skin was warm beneath your fingers, the pulse in his throat strong, steady. You felt the slight rasp of stubble beneath your thumb as it grazed his Adam’s apple, and he tilted his head back ever so slightly, surrendering to your touch.

He loved this—loved the way your hands felt against him, the way you touched him with such care and reverence. You could see it in the way his breath hitched, in the way his body leaned into yours, giving in to the sensation. His silence wasn’t cold; it was deliberate, a game of restraint. But even in his quiet, his need for you was undeniable, the weight of it heavy in the air.

His gaze never left yours, those dark eyes smoldering with a quiet hunger that mirrored the fire building inside of you. It was like a pressure rising between you, a tension so thick it felt like it might snap at any moment. He didn’t need words. His body, every subtle movement, every breath, spoke volumes. His desires were laid bare in the way his chest rose and fell a little quicker, the way his hands lingered just a second longer against your skin.

His hand moved with deliberate slowness, sliding to your hips, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together, chest to chest. The heat of his skin seeped through his shirt, the firmness of his muscles beneath making your pulse quicken. Why did he always make you feel like this? That sweet, overwhelming sensation, hot and bothered in the most exquisite way. His presence alone was enough to unravel you, and he knew it.

Your hands slid from his neck, fingertips brushing along his throat, tracing the line of his collarbone as you began to undo the buttons of his black shirt. One by one, the fabric parted under your touch, exposing more of him to you. Your eyes never left his as you worked, and in return, his gaze stayed fixed on you, watching every move you made with a kind of silent anticipation. As you undid the buttons, his other hand came up to your face, cradling your cheek with a tenderness that belied the tension in the room. His thumb traced the line of your bottom lip, tugging it down gently, his touch so light it sent a shiver down your spine.

Instinctively, your lips parted, and he slipped his thumb into your mouth. The soft pad of his thumb pressed against your tongue, and you began to suck slowly, your eyes locked on his the whole time. The way he licked his lips as he watched you made your stomach flip, that familiar look of control in his eyes. You already knew what he was thinking. “You love sucking on anything I give you,” he would have said, and he wouldn’t be wrong. There was something so intoxicating about this exchange, the way he gave and you took, the way it bound you to him.

You rolled your tongue slowly around his thumb, savoring the sensation, the warmth of him against your lips. The only sound between you was the soft, wet noise of your mouth working around his finger, teasing him. His thumb grazed against your teeth, and you took more of it in, sucking just a little harder, daring him to respond. But Michael was never one to be undone by teasing. His teasing was designed to push you right to the edge, to make you crumble under the weight of it.

Slowly, he withdrew his thumb from your mouth, the tip glistening as he brushed it over your lips, leaving them wet and parted. You could feel your breath coming quicker now, the anticipation thick between you.

Without a word, you pushed him gently, backing him up against the door. The thud of his body against the wood was soft, but it felt final, like you’d crossed an invisible line. You finished unbuttoning his shirt, exposing the toned planes of his chest, your fingers tracing the patterns of vitiligo that dotted his skin. It was beautiful, the way the light from the fire cast shadows over his bare torso, highlighting every dip and curve, every patch of pale skin that marked him. He shrugged off the shirt and tossed it aside, his chest now fully on display, and your hands moved without thinking, exploring him, touching him.

His hand came up, tilting your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes bored into yours, dark and full of intent. You felt your heart hammering in your chest, the anticipation coiling tighter. “Yes, sir?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, thick with need.

He didn’t answer, at least not with words. Instead, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that started slow, but quickly became something more—something raw, something desperate. His lips were soft, but his kiss was anything but. It was aggressive, his tongue pushing into your mouth, fighting for dominance. There was nothing gentle in the way he kissed you now, his need overpowering, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you even closer.

His lips tasted sweet, familiar, like they belonged on yours, but the way his tongue moved… God, he knew exactly what he was doing. Every kiss felt deliberate, like a claim. In this moment, he didn’t just have you—he owned you. Your body melted into him, surrendering completely, every nerve electrified by the fire he was fanning inside you. His tongue tangled with yours, each kiss growing sloppy, heated, as both of you gave in to the spiraling desire. You could feel the sharp graze of his teeth against your lower lip, the hot, ragged breath from his lungs mingling with yours, intoxicating you even more. The way he took control—his hands, his mouth, the way his body pressed into yours—it consumed you.

He didn’t waste time as he pushed off the door, each step deliberate, forcing you to move back with him, his hold never loosening. His large hands gripped you tighter, guiding you backward until your body hit the cold wall beside his bed. The contrast between the chilled surface and the heat of him pressing into you made you gasp. His lips didn’t falter, trailing down from your mouth, leaving wet, possessive kisses along your jaw. His teeth scraped against your skin as he sucked harder, pulling a breathless whisper from your lips.

“Harder…” you breathed, barely able to form the word as the need for his rough touch consumed you. You craved the edge of him, the rawness he always gave you, that controlled chaos that left you breathless and aching.

Without hesitation, his hand shot up, wrapping around your throat, his grip firm but not painful. The sensation made you shiver, your pulse pounding beneath his thumb as his other hand held you in place. His lips moved with an animalistic hunger, kissing, sucking, marking you as his. Each kiss sent waves of heat through your body, his lips hot and wet against your jaw and then down to the tender spot behind your ear. His breath was heavy, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he kissed and sucked at your skin, sending sparks down your spine.

“Fuck yes…” you moaned, your head tilting back, giving him full access as his lips latched onto your earlobe, sucking it into his mouth. His thumb pressed just a bit harder against your pulse point, making your heartbeat race beneath his fingers. The feeling of him choking you while sucking on your neck made your knees go weak, your legs trembling as he pressed his body harder into yours.

He didn’t speak a word—of course he wouldn’t. Not tonight. You knew his rule, and no matter how intense things got, he wouldn’t break it for anything, not even for the fiery hunger between you. His silence only heightened everything, making each breath, each moan, louder in the quiet, darkened room.

He pressed himself into you harder, letting you feel all of him, his body hot and ready against yours. The pressure of him, the heat radiating from his skin, made your body ache with need. You knew he could keep this up all night, teasing you with the promise of more but never quite giving it to you. His lips trailed lower, finding your neck, kissing and sucking harder, leaving dark marks in his wake. Every touch sent shivers through you, your body reacting to every move he made.

You reached out, your hands blindly gripping at the wall behind you, trying to find something to hold onto, but the way he was working your body made it impossible to focus. Your mind began to drift, memories flooding back of the time in his library, how effortlessly he had taken you. You had been cleaning, completely unaware of him watching you until his hands were on you. He had lifted your skirt like it meant nothing, pulled your panties to the side, and without a word, had slipped inside you. The memory made you shudder.

His hand had been wrapped tight in your hair, pulling your head back, making you arch into him as he pounded into you without mercy. His other hand had clamped over your mouth, silencing your cries because there were others in the house, just a room away. The filthy, vulgar words that had spilled from his lips that day still echoed in your mind.

“You’re my pretty little slut,” he had whispered in your ear, his voice thick with lust, every word dripping with possessiveness. “Taking me so fucking well… You’re perfect.”

His words had burned through you like wildfire, each filthy praise igniting something deep inside, making you feel like you were unraveling under his touch. “Such a good girl, taking all of me… every inch.” The memory echoed in your mind, and it still made your skin flush. He had been relentless—thick, almost too big for someone with his slender frame—and yet, he filled you like he was carved for you alone. The way he stretched you, claimed you, made your legs tremble as if you were on the brink of collapse.

Even now, as his lips trailed down your neck, each kiss a slow, teasing reminder of that day, you could feel the lingering ghost of how perfect it had felt. Too perfect, like he’d broken something inside you and left you craving him in ways you couldn’t understand.

His lips hovered just above your collarbone, his hot breath washing over your skin. He paused, his grip tightening ever so slightly around your throat, sending a sharp thrill through your body. His fingers dug into your pulse, making your heart pound harder as he leaned in close, his mouth brushing your ear. “You thinkin’ about the library?” His voice was low, rough, a taunt that made your stomach coil with need.

You whimpered, barely able to catch your breath. Your nails dug into the wall behind you, scraping against the cool surface, trying to ground yourself. Your hips pressed into him instinctively, seeking more of that intoxicating heat. “How could I not?” you whispered, your voice a trembling confession.

His dark eyes flashed with something primal, the corner of his lips curling into a knowing smirk as he pressed his body harder against yours. You could feel every hard inch of him, throbbing through the thin fabric between you. “I remember it like it was yesterday,” he growled, his lips grazing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “You looked so good bent over for me. Took me like you were made for it.”

A shudder rippled through you at his words, your body reacting without thought. Heat pooled low in your belly, your knees weakening beneath the weight of his body pressed into yours. “Michael…” you whimpered, barely able to form his name as the room seemed to blur around you.

His grip on your throat tightened just enough to make you dizzy, the pressure sending a rush of blood to your head. He chuckled, a dark sound that vibrated against your skin, and then his lips trailed lower, kissing down to your collarbone. His tongue flicked out, tasting your skin, the heat of it making you gasp. “You love it when I talk dirty to you, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice a low growl that sent shockwaves of arousal coursing through you.

All you could manage was a shaky nod, your breath catching in your throat as his lips continued their assault on your neck. Each kiss, each bite, each flick of his tongue felt like a brand, marking you as his, consuming you until there was nothing left but the burning desire he had stoked inside you.

“Good,” he murmured, his teeth grazing your skin, tugging just enough to make you whimper. His hand loosened around your throat as he pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours, dark and intense. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing, but your heart was pounding in your chest. You met his gaze, your voice barely a whisper as you spoke, “You broke your rule…”

His brow arched slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Rules are meant to be broken.” He shrugged casually, but there was a glint in his eye as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your lips. “Why? Do you prefer me quiet while I’m fucking you? Hmm? Is that what you want, doll?” His grip on your throat tightened once again, just enough to make you gasp.

He moved even closer, his lips brushing against yours but not quite kissing you, teasing. “Or do you want to hear me praise you? Tell you how good you are for me, how tight you are around my dick? Tell you how fucking pretty your moans sound when I’m deep inside you?”

Your lip quivered as you tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Your eyes locked onto his, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps as the intensity of his gaze held you captive.

“Speak, slut,” he growled, his voice low and commanding as his hand tightened around your neck, choking you just a little harder. The pressure made your head spin, but it was his roughness, his dominance, that made your body tremble with desire. You whimpered softly, trying to hold back the overwhelming wave of arousal that was threatening to drown you, but God, the way he handled you… it was too much, too good.

“What do you want, doll?” he purred, his voice a teasing whisper as his lips hovered just above yours. “Want me to speak? Or do you want me to shut my mouth? Say yes, and I won’t hold back.”

The weight of his words sent a shiver down your spine, and despite the fire in your belly, you barely managed to breathe out, “Yes.”

A slow, wicked smile spread across his face as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours, but you cut him off, your voice trembling. “Don’t talk,” you whispered, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to steady yourself. “Just… don’t talk.”

The command came out soft, but firm, and for a moment, his eyes darkened with something deeper—something more dangerous. He didn’t need words, didn’t need to speak. You loved his voice, the way it could make your pulse quicken with just a few whispered words, but when he was silent, when he let his body do the talking… that’s when he truly unraveled you.

His smirk deepened into something more primal, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable as he leaned in closer. His breath mingled with yours, hot and heavy, making your lips tingle with anticipation. His gaze was intense, those dark eyes speaking volumes without a word, and the weight of his presence pressed against you like a slow, suffocating heat. The way he looked at you—possessive, commanding—made your stomach flip and your knees weak, as though you were already drowning in him before he even touched you.

His hands found your shoulders, firm yet gentle as he guided you downward. Your body obeyed him effortlessly, sinking to your knees before him. You knelt there, your eyes never leaving his, captivated by the piercing look he gave you through his reading glasses, the subtle glint of control lurking beneath them. The sight of him towering over you, his chest rising and falling in slow, deliberate breaths, made your pulse quicken, and the air between you crackled with tension.

Slowly, your gaze dropped, following the lines of his body as you drank in every inch of him. The rough texture of his black jeans beneath your fingertips sent a thrill through you as your hands traveled up his thighs, feeling the firmness of his muscles, sculpted from years of dancing. As your fingers found the waistband, the heat between your legs grew unbearable. You worked with eager hands, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans with a deftness that came from both familiarity and desperation.

He remained silent, his fingers lazily threading through your hair as he watched you, his chest heaving slightly in anticipation. The tension was palpable, the heat in his gaze making you ache even more for him. When you pulled his jeans down, revealing his toned, muscled thighs, you let out a soft, barely audible sigh. His dancer’s legs were strong, defined, and utterly perfect, and you could feel your mouth going dry as you stared at him. I’ll never get tired of this, you thought to yourself, lost in the moment as he stepped out of his loafers and kicked his jeans aside.

Now he stood before you in just his briefs, and your breath caught in your throat. The outline of his arousal strained against the white fabric, impossibly thick and big, so evident that it sent a shudder through you. You bit your lip, unable to hold back the surge of excitement that shot through your body. The sight of him like this, raw and ready, was overwhelming, the desire burning inside you becoming almost unbearable.

Slowly, deliberately, you gripped the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down with agonizing slowness. His length was revealed inch by inch, thick and heavy, his shaft springing free as you lowered the fabric down his legs. He was magnificent, and the sight of him made your core throb with need. His length was adorned with the beautiful patchwork of his vitiligo, the blend of brown, pink, and white skin a testament to his uniqueness, and it only made you want him more.

You couldn’t help but murmur, “Look at that,” your voice dripping with admiration and lust as you stared up at him, your gaze flicking between his face and the sight of his arousal. The heat between your legs grew even more intense, your own need becoming almost painful as you took in the beauty of him.

Your hand reached out, trembling slightly with desire as you gently wrapped it around his shaft. Even with your fingers spread wide, you couldn’t fully wrap your hand around him—he was too thick, and it sent a rush of arousal through you that made you shiver. “So thick,” you whispered in awe, your voice barely audible as you began to stroke him slowly, feeling the weight of him in your hand. His foreskin moved with each stroke, sliding back to reveal the flushed pink tip, glistening with precum, the sight of it making your mouth water in anticipation.

You looked up at him again, meeting his gaze, the intensity in his eyes burning through you. You couldn’t wait to taste him, to feel him inside your mouth, every inch of his thickness filling you. Your lips parted slightly as you leaned in closer, the scent of him invading your senses, and your body ached for him, ready to give in to the hunger that had been building inside you from the moment he touched you.

You took your time, savoring every ridge and vein along his length as you stroked him, feeling the weight and heat of him in your hand. Your touch was slow and teasing, drawing out the tension between you both, letting it simmer just beneath the surface. His body responded to every flick of your wrist, every light squeeze, and the way his breath hitched sent shivers down your spine. You wanted him—every inch of him—and you knew he was more than willing to take you there, to push you past the brink until you were begging for him.

But you were in control, at least for now.

With a slow, deliberate movement, you flicked your tongue out, grazing the head of his length, tasting the salty tang of his precum mixed with a sweetness that made you hum with satisfaction. “Taste so good,” you murmured with a mischievous smile, your lips curving as you looked up at him, watching the way his jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing in that familiar, primal way.

He didn’t respond, not verbally, but his silence only added to the intensity. His gaze was unreadable, but his fingers tightening in your hair told you everything. He was close to losing control, and that excited you even more.

You pressed your lips against his tip again, feeling the sticky wetness of his precum cling to your lips with each kiss, your tongue tracing the line where the head met his shaft, flicking over the sensitive underside with a teasing slowness. His body trembled in response, the muscles in his thighs tightening as you continued to taunt him with each delicate touch.

“You like that, don’t you?” you whispered, your voice sultry and low as you ran your tongue along the underside of his length, letting it glide down to his sack, teasing him there before trailing back up again.

His answer came in the form of a firm hand pushing your head down, guiding you to take him deeper. You didn’t resist, instead relishing the control he exerted as your tongue continued to trace his length, teasing the sensitive spots along his shaft. You felt his whole body shudder when your tongue swept over his sack, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him.

He let out a heavy breath, his chest rising and falling more rapidly as you took the head of his length into your mouth, sucking slowly, teasingly, just enough to drive him wild. His fingers tightened even more in your hair, pulling slightly as you swirled your tongue around his tip, your eyes meeting his. Those dark, intense eyes bore down into yours, and there was nothing innocent about the way you stared back at him, wide-eyed and full of lust.

You began to bob your head, your lips stretched tight around him as you took him in halfway, your tongue pressing against the underside of his shaft. You could feel the way his veins pulsed against your lips, every inch of him filling your mouth as you moved, slow and deliberate, drawing out his pleasure with each stroke. His body tensed, his breathing growing ragged as you worked him, your lips sliding along the slick, spotted skin of his length.

Then, with a swift motion, he backed you up into the wall, his control snapping as he took over. His hips began to thrust, slow at first, his length sliding in and out of your mouth with a smooth rhythm. You could taste him more now, the salty sweetness coating your tongue as his length filled your mouth with each thrust, the sensation overwhelming your senses.

He straightened, his body hovering over you, his mouth slightly open as he let out a low groan, his hand cupping the back of your head. His saliva dripped onto his shaft, slicking it as he thrust deeper, pushing himself further into your mouth. The taste of him, the weight of him, it all sent a fire coursing through your veins, the heat pooling low in your belly as you moaned around his length, the vibrations from your throat driving him wild.

His breathing became heavier, his chest heaving as he watched you, his eyes dark with desire. His hand pressed harder against your forehead, holding you in place as his hips rocked forward, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, each thrust sending a new wave of arousal coursing through you. The slick sounds of your mouth working him filled the room, mixing with his low, guttural groans.

You reached beneath your dress, slipping your hand into your lace panties, your fingers finding your swollen folds. You were soaked, your body responding to every thrust, every sound, every look he gave you. Your fingers brushed over your clit, and you moaned around his length, the vibrations making him groan even louder.

His eyes flicked down, watching as you pleasured yourself, his arousal spiking at the sight. He thrust harder, faster, his hand tightening its grip on your head as he drove himself into your mouth, pushing deeper until his length hit the back of your throat. Your eyes watered, but the sensation only heightened the pleasure, your throat tightening around him as he held you there, his length throbbing against your lips.

He gave you short, fast thrusts, each one sending your head back against the wall as he fucked your mouth with abandon. The wet, slick sounds of your mouth around him, the thick saliva dripping down his shaft and onto the hardwood floor, only seemed to drive him further. He was relentless now, his other hand gripping the back of your head, forcing you to take him deeper, harder, your gag reflex barely holding as you moaned and choked around him.

You couldn’t stop yourself, your fingers working faster between your legs as his pace quickened, your moans and gags mixing with the sound of his thrusts. You were so close, so close to unraveling beneath him as he used your mouth, the roughness of it pushing you closer to the edge. And God, the way he looked at you, his eyes locked on yours, the primal hunger in them making you want to give him everything.

Your fingers pressed harder against your clit, each circle driving you closer to that edge, your body trembling with anticipation. His length still filled your mouth, every inch of him sliding in and out with the raw intensity of his thrusts. You could feel the heat building, an overwhelming pressure growing in your core, ready to explode.

His movements became more primal, each thrust harder, your head thumping against the wall until his hand moved swiftly to cradle your head. A strange tenderness amidst the storm. But there was nothing gentle about the way he moved his hips, his groans growing louder, deep and guttural, as he pounded relentlessly into your mouth. The soft jazz in the background was barely audible now over the wet sounds of your mouth and his deep, ragged breaths.

With each thrust, his base brushed firmly against your lips, the roughness of his stubble teasing the delicate skin of your mouth. His sack, heavy and full, slapped rhythmically against your chin, over and over, wet with your spit, the mixture dripping down, pooling onto his loafers in a mess that neither of you cared about. You could feel him twitch, the hard, pulsing length of him filling every inch of your throat, making you gag slightly. He was close, you could see it in his eyes—darker now, wild with lust, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, biting down hard.

His hand moved to your neck, wrapping around it possessively, and you could feel his length bulging beneath your skin as it slid in and out of your throat. He grunted, his voice deep and raw, throwing his head back in a moment of pure pleasure. His breathing became more labored, each thrust more intense, your tongue sliding along the underside of his shaft, feeling every ridge, every pulse.

The heat in your belly intensified, your fingers working furiously over your clit now, circling faster, slick with your own arousal as you teetered on the brink. You were so close, the pleasure nearly unbearable, your legs shaking, your breath coming in shallow gasps around his length . And then, just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, Michael pulled out, his shaft wet and throbbing, and slapped it hard against your cheek.

The sound echoed through the room, sharp, followed by the sensation of him ramming himself back inside your mouth, thrusting with renewed force, his face contorting as he chased his release. You whimpered around his length, feeling the thick tension in the air as your fingers continued to work your clit, each movement sending you spiraling closer.

Your toes curled in your heels, your brows furrowing as your entire body tightened with the building pleasure. His length twitched again, and you knew he was on the edge, his face a mask of raw need, his hand tightening in your hair as he grunted deeply. And then it happened—he groaned, a long, drawn-out sound, and you felt the first hot spurt of his release, his thick, salty seed filling your mouth.

He kept thrusting, slow now but deep, each pulse sending more of his warmth spilling over your tongue. The sensation pushed you over the edge, and you moaned deeply around him, your own release hitting you hard as your fingers worked your clit in desperate circles. Your entire body trembled as you came, your thighs shaking, your folds swollen and slick with your release.

His seed spilled from your mouth, thick and warm, dripping down your chin and onto your dress, mixing with the mess already made. You swallowed what you could, the rest running down your lips as Michael groaned, his gaze locked on yours. He watched every moment, his eyes dark and hungry, taking in the sight of you—your fingers glistening with your release, your lips swollen and wet, your chest rising and falling in heavy breaths.

Slowly, he pulled out, his length even harder than before, standing tall as he caught his breath. He looked down at you, his chest heaving, his eyes filled with satisfaction, but that primal hunger still lingered. His thick, salty release coated your mouth, your body still buzzing with the aftermath of your orgasm. You swallowed again, your throat sore from the roughness of it, and yet you craved more.

Michael’s seed filled your mouth, warm and thick, coating your throat and tongue. You swallowed what you could, but you knew it wouldn’t be enough to stop the slow trickle that would follow, the evidence of his dominance leaking from your body long after he was done. The mere thought of it had your thighs pressing together, your body trembling with need, craving more even as his taste lingered on your lips.

He looked down at you, still kneeling before him, a wicked gleam in his eyes as his hand reached out and wrapped firmly around your throat. His grip was possessive, fingers digging into your skin with a pressure that made your pulse quicken, your breath hitching. You loved the way he could control you with a single touch, the roughness of his dominance always leaving you on edge, desperate for more. A sly grin spread across his face as he pulled you closer, forcing your lips back to his.

The kiss was punishing, deep and rough, his mouth claiming yours with a force that left you breathless. You could taste the remnants of him on your lips, his seed still warm as it mixed with the wet heat of his tongue. His grip tightened on your throat, cutting off just enough air to make you dizzy, your moans vibrating against his mouth as he devoured you completely. Every kiss was a reminder that you were his, that he could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. And you loved it. The intensity of his control only made you crave him more.

When he finally pulled away, leaving both of you panting, his eyes locked onto yours. The dark, commanding look in them told you everything you needed to know—he wasn’t finished with you yet. You knew what he expected, what he always wanted. Without a word, you stood up and began to strip out of your dress, your fingers trembling slightly as you pulled the fabric over your head and let it fall in a pool at your feet. You stood there, bare except for your heels, the black lace of your panties and bra the only thing left between his gaze and your skin.

He took a moment to admire the sight before him, his eyes roaming hungrily over every inch of your exposed body. Then, with a sudden, forceful movement, he turned you around and bent you over the edge of his bed, your hands gripping the sheets for balance. The anticipation was almost unbearable as you heard the drawer of the nightstand open, the familiar sound of it sending a shiver down your spine. You knew exactly what he was reaching for.

The wooden paddle, reserved for nights like this when he wanted to make sure you felt everything, was cool as he dragged it slowly down your back, teasing you with the promise of what was to come. He took his time, letting the paddle trace the curves of your ass, down to your thighs, and then back up again, the anticipation building with every second.

And then, without warning, he brought it down hard against your ass, the sharp smack reverberating through the room as your skin instantly stung with the force of the blow. “Fuck,” you gasped, your body jolting forward from the impact, the pain mixing with a surge of pleasure that left you breathless.

His chuckle was low, dark, as he lifted the paddle again, bringing it down even harder this time. The crack of it against your flesh made you moan, your head dropping into the covers as your body responded to his punishment with a heat that spread through your core. “Oh god,” you whimpered, your voice muffled as the sting from the paddle intensified, your ass burning with the delicious pain he was inflicting.

He didn’t stop there, though. His eyes were focused, watching your every reaction, the way your body trembled and arched for him, the way you couldn’t help but push your hips back, silently begging for more. The paddle slid down again, this time over the slick, swollen folds between your legs, teasing your already throbbing clit with its hard surface.

You moaned loudly, unable to control the sounds that escaped you as the wood dragged over your wetness, the sensation almost too much to bear.

He lifted the paddle and brought it down on your folds, the sharp smack sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight through you, your body arching off the bed as you cried out into the sheets. The sting was intense, but the way it mixed with the throbbing between your legs only made you want him more.

He didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to. His silence spoke volumes, the way he handled you, the way he controlled every inch of your body, leaving no doubt in your mind who was in charge. And you loved it. You loved the way he dominated you, the way he pushed you to the edge over and over again, making you crave his roughness, his intensity.

The paddle came down with brutal precision, the impact sending shockwaves through your trembling body, pleasure and pain mingling into an intoxicating sensation that threatened to undo you. Each smack left your skin ablaze, the sting intensifying as your folds grew wetter, slick with arousal. You moaned, breathless, the sound escaping your lips as a broken, desperate plea.

“Mr. Jackson,” you gasped, your voice muffled by the sheets, barely able to hold back the raw pleasure coursing through you.

He smirked at the sound of his name on your lips, the power it gave him over you. Without a word, he threw the paddle to the floor, the wooden thud echoing in the room. His hand traced up your spine, teasing and possessive, each stroke sending shivers down your body. With a quick, practiced flick, he unclasped your bra, letting it fall away, leaving you exposed to him. His fingers slid through your hair, wrapping it tightly around his hand before pulling you upright, forcing your back into a perfect arch as your body submitted to his control.

Tears of pleasure welled in your eyes, a soft smile playing on your lips despite the intensity of it all. You knew exactly what he wanted, what he always took from you in these moments. Your mouth opened for him, willing, waiting. His other hand came to your face, gripping your jaw with a firm, almost possessive hold as he let a thick drop of saliva fall from his lips into your open mouth. His gaze was dark, intense, as he watched you obediently swallow.

“I love it when you do that,” you murmured, your voice soft yet laced with mischief as you leaned closer, teasing your tongue against his lips. Your breath mingled with his, the air between you charged as his lips parted in response. You took the opportunity to spit playfully into his mouth, the action bold and unapologetic, knowing he loved it just as much. But before you could pull back, he grabbed you by the neck, pulling you into a deep, messy kiss, both of you sharing in the heat, the saliva mixing between your tongues as the kiss grew rougher, more desperate.

Michael was no longer the shy man most knew him to be. Here, in the bedroom, he dropped the pretense, revealing the dominant, demanding lover he truly was. He spat into your mouth again, watching with dark satisfaction as you swallowed, the act primal, a testament to how fully you belonged to him in these moments. When you pulled away, a thick strand of saliva connected your lips to his, a physical reminder of the mess you both loved to make together. You flicked your tongue out, breaking the string with a teasing smirk.

He chuckled, a low, deep sound that sent another wave of heat rushing through you. Without warning, he pushed you back onto the bed, forcing you onto all fours as you quickly positioned yourself. Your eyes flicked to the clock—eleven p.m. Only an hour until he could finally speak, though he had already broken his rule for you tonight.

You felt the sudden tug at your panties, the fabric stretching before tearing completely as he ripped them from your body, leaving you bare except for the heels that still adorned your feet. You glanced back at him, a smirk dancing on your lips. “Someone’s been angry,” you teased, but the playful glint in your eyes quickly faded as his palm came down hard on your ass, the sharp smack making you bite your lip to stifle a moan.

He arched your back with one firm press of his hand against the small of it, his control absolute as he pushed you into the perfect position. He loved you like this—open, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. Even though he knew every inch of your body, knew how tight and wet you would be for him, every time he entered you, it was a struggle for your walls to accommodate his thick length, the way he stretched you inch by inch. His length , spotted with vitiligo, was a beautiful contradiction—soft in appearance yet unforgiving in size, a sight you had never grown tired of after all these years.

With one hand gripping your waist, he guided his length to your entrance, teasing you with the head of it, slicking himself with the wetness already dripping from you. The sensation of him pressing against you, the tip just barely entering, was maddening. Your breath hitched as you pushed back slightly, desperate for more, but he held you in place, not letting you take him fully just yet.

“Michael,” you whimpered, your voice strained with need, every nerve in your body screaming for him to give in, to fuck you the way you craved.

Michael’s smirk deepened as he watched your body struggle to accommodate his thickness, taking a sadistic pleasure in how slow and agonizing it was for you. His length slid in inch by inch, every vein and ridge pressing against your sensitive walls, stretching you to your limit. The tension between pain and pleasure electrified the air, your gasp barely escaping your lips as he bottomed out, hips pressed firmly against your backside. You could feel every throb, every twitch as he filled you completely.

“You’re so deep,” you moaned, voice trembling as you tried to adjust, the fullness almost unbearable. His hips moved with deliberate slowness, drawing back only to thrust forward again with a steady, torturous rhythm. His grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to leave marks. He watched intently, eyes fixed on the sight of his length disappearing into you, mesmerized by how your body stretched to take him.

With a low, guttural groan, he spat onto his length, adding more slickness as he continued to thrust, his movements becoming more fluid, more demanding. You glanced back at him, catching the glint in his eyes behind his reading glasses—those piercing eyes that made you feel even more powerless beneath him. He smirked as he pushed your head down roughly into the mattress, forcing your back into a deeper arch, making you open wider for him.

Then he shifted, lifting his left leg onto the bed for better leverage, driving himself into you from a new angle. His hands roamed possessively over your sides, squeezing and gripping in all the right places. His length gleamed with your arousal, highlighting the contours of every thick vein and pigment. You could hear the obscene sounds of your slickness with every deep thrust, his pace quickening as he pushed deeper, his growls rumbling from deep within his chest. The sensation of him filling you completely, over and over, was overwhelming, your body shaking with each rough stroke.

Needing more, you instinctively began to push back against him, trying to take control. But Michael wasn’t having it. In an instant, he pulled out and delivered a sharp smack to your ass, the sting so intense that you gasped. Before you could catch your breath, his hand was in your hair, yanking you up. He slapped you lightly across the face, his dark eyes locking onto yours, sending a clear message—you were not in charge here. He was.

“Then fuck me,” you spat defiantly, glancing at him through lust-filled eyes, your gaze momentarily fixating on the glint of his chain.

Without a word, he grabbed you aggressively, flipping you onto your back with ease. His hands were rough as he pinned your legs back against your chest, your toes pointed helplessly as he teased your slick folds with the tip of his length, dragging it slowly, deliberately, along your entrance. The teasing lasted only a second before he slammed into you, hard and fast, knocking the air from your lungs as your body jolted with the force of it.

“Oh god!” you cried out, your voice high and desperate as he began to pound into you with an unrelenting pace. His eyes never left you, watching intently as his length stretched you wide with each brutal thrust, the slick sounds of your arousal filling the room. You could barely breathe, barely think, the overwhelming sensation of him inside you consuming every part of your mind. You looked down, watching in awe as his thick shaft disappeared into your swollen, dripping cunt, stretching you open in a way that left you trembling.

Your moans were loud, desperate, as his thick tip grazed your cervix with every thrust, sending shockwaves through your body. Your legs quivered under his touch, your muscles weakening as the pleasure built to an unbearable intensity.

“Harder…” you whimpered, your voice barely a breath, your body craving more, needing more.

Michael’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as he drove into you with even more ferocity. The bed groaned beneath the brutal force of his thrusts, each one harder, more punishing than the last. The slap of your bodies echoed through the room, wet and raw, every stroke sending waves of your arousal splashing across his thighs and base. He didn’t slow down. If anything, the sound of your sobbing moans only spurred him on, the ruthless rhythm pushing you to the brink of breaking.

His length was coated in your arousal, thick and creamy, the evidence of your pleasure smeared across his length as it drove deeper, stretching you to your limits. You could feel every inch of him, the veins pulsing against your walls, the fullness so overwhelming that it sent shudders through your body. Your fingers found your clit, rubbing desperately as he fucked you harder, his hips slamming into you with a relentless force that had your back arching and your breath coming in ragged gasps.

The bed creaked beneath the weight of his thrusts, your vision blurring as he pounded into you. “Fuck, don’t stop,” you moaned, your voice hoarse, barely recognizable as you begged for more. The sight of his length disappearing inside you again and again, glistening with your slick, drove you wild. Each thrust was rougher, deeper, like he wanted to own every inch of you.

Your fingers became slick and sticky from the creamy arousal coating them, every touch sending electric jolts through your body. But it wasn’t enough—you needed more. And Michael, with his dark, silent fury, was giving it to you. He shifted slightly, changing his angle just enough to find that perfect spot inside you. The second he hit it, your body jolted, your walls clamping down hard around him.

“Right there, oh fuck, right there,” you blurted out, head falling back as the pleasure hit like a wave crashing over you. Your body shook, every nerve screaming as he hammered into the sweet spot with ruthless precision. His length twitched inside of you, every pulse sending you closer to the edge. The burn of the stretch only heightened the intensity, making your toes curl as you clung to the bed for dear life.

Without warning, Michael’s hand shot out, releasing your ankle and gripping your throat in one swift motion. His fingers tightened, squeezing hard, cutting off your air as he thrust harder, rougher, more brutal than before. The pressure on your neck blurred your vision, stars dancing across your eyes as your head spun. But through the haze, you smiled, loving every second of it.

His hand on your throat told you everything. He didn’t need words. The way he choked you, the way his length slammed into you without mercy, said more than any words ever could. He was releasing everything, pouring his anger, his lust, his possessiveness into every brutal thrust. And you welcomed it, loving the roughness, craving the way he lost control with you.

Your walls clenched around him, throbbing as he pounded you with relentless force, your body shaking beneath him as the intensity built higher and higher. Every thrust hit deeper, stretching you further, the burning pleasure twisting into something almost unbearable. His grip on your neck tightened, and you could feel the bruising already forming, but it only drove you closer to the brink.

Your vision swam in and out of focus, each rough thrust sending shockwaves through your body. The room around you seemed to blur into nothing, the only thing you could focus on was the relentless force of Michael’s body against yours, his hands gripping you with such intensity that you could feel his frustration radiating through every inch of him. His chain, cool and biting against your heated skin, contrasted with the searing heat between you, the weight of his chest pressing down on you as he held you under him, completely at his mercy. Your hand rested on his stomach, feeling the taut muscles rippling beneath your palm as he moved inside you, the power behind every thrust sending you spiraling into oblivion.

He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was just as punishing, his lips devouring yours with a force that took your breath away, literally. His grip around your throat tightened, cutting off your air just enough to make you gasp, the thrill of it coursing through you like fire. His groans rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating against your lips as his tongue teased yours, every movement calculated, deliberate. You whimpered softly, your breaths shallow, your body trembling as he plunged in and out of you with unyielding precision.

The clock struck midnight, the sound barely audible over the wet, slapping sounds of your bodies colliding and the jazz music playing softly in the background. Michael’s lips twisted into a dark smirk as he pulled back, his eyes locked on yours, filled with a dangerous intensity. “Want me to talk now, hmm?” His voice was a low growl, dripping with smug satisfaction as he drove deeper into you, your walls stretching around his length.

You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat as he continued to pound into you, your body jerking with each powerful thrust. He loosened his grip on your throat just enough for you to suck in a desperate breath, but his hand stayed firmly in place, a constant reminder of who was in control. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dominance. “Look how good you’re taking me, pretty girl. So wet, so creamy.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to his praise, your moans turning into soft, desperate pleas. “Michael, please…”

“Please what?” he mocked, his thrusts growing more brutal, each one slamming into you so hard that it left you breathless. “You want it harder?”

Without waiting for an answer, he gave it to you, his hips snapping against yours with a force that knocked the air out of your lungs. Each thrust was deeper, rougher, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room, the bed creaking under the violent rhythm. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, desperate to feel more of him, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his body claiming yours completely.

“Take it, baby. Take all of me,” he whispered harshly, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged as he drove into you with renewed intensity.

You moaned helplessly, your nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders, holding onto him like a lifeline as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. His lips found your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, biting down hard enough to leave marks, each one a reminder of his dominance over you. “Why do you fuck me like this?” you gasped, your head falling back, exposing more of your neck to his hungry mouth.

He growled, flicking his tongue along the side of your neck before trailing it up to your ear. “Because you’re my pretty little slut,” he murmured darkly, his voice sending a jolt straight to your core.

Your walls clenched around him, the tightness driving him even deeper, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your body trembling with the need to release. But he wasn’t finished. His hand tightened around your throat once more, choking you harder as he rammed into you with brutal, unrelenting force. Each thrust shifted the bed, the headboard slamming against the wall as his pace grew more violent, driven by some unspoken fury that had him fucking you like he never had before.

The darkness in Michael’s gaze was unlike anything you had ever seen before, an almost feral edge that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. His thrusts were savage, each one tearing a guttural moan from your throat, the force of his body slamming into yours leaving you gasping for breath. The intensity of his movements left no room for tenderness—this was raw, unfiltered need, anger poured into every powerful stroke. He wasn’t holding back, and you could feel it in the way his hips snapped forward, the thick length of him filling you with a ruthless determination that made your entire body tremble.

Sweat dripped from his forehead, sliding down his chest and mingling with yours as he leaned over you, his breath hot and uneven against your ear. “You want them all to see, don’t you?” he growled, his voice rough, edged with a dangerous kind of heat. His eyes flicked downward, watching the way his length moved in and out of you with a slick, obscene sound. “See how good I fuck you? See how you take me like you were made for it? Look at how you’re squeezing me, so damn tight.”

You could barely respond, your head spinning as the pressure coiled tighter inside you. His words made your core clench around him, the tension building to an unbearable peak. You tried to speak, to form a coherent thought, but all that escaped was a broken moan, your lips trembling as your body shook beneath him. Words weren’t possible; the overwhelming sensations, the heat, the pressure, his brutal pace—it was all too much.

Michael’s hand shot out, cupping your face roughly, forcing your eyes to lock onto his. The intensity in his dark eyes was like a physical force, pinning you in place. He was still wearing his reading glasses, the thin frames sliding down the bridge of his nose, but the fury in his gaze never faltered. His chain dangled from his neck, swinging back and forth in time with his thrusts, brushing lightly against your skin. Every movement sent a shockwave through your body, the tension in your belly burning hotter with each passing second.

“You’re drunk on this, aren’t you?” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. His hips didn’t slow, didn’t waver—each thrust was hard, precise, pushing you closer to the edge. “So drunk on the way I fuck you, on the way I own you. You like that, don’t you?”

You whimpered, your body arching against his, the heat in your belly threatening to consume you. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you fought to hold on, the slick sound of your bodies colliding filling the air. You glanced down, unable to stop yourself from watching where you were joined, mesmerized by the sight of his length sliding in and out of you, the thickness of him stretching you, filling you completely.

“I can feel how close you are,” he groaned, his voice thick with lust. His hips never faltered, his pace relentless as he drove himself into you again and again, hitting that spot deep inside that made your vision blur. “I know you want to cum. Just let it go, baby girl. Let it all out for me.”

You were trembling now, your thighs quivering with the effort to hold on, your body teetering on the edge of oblivion. You couldn’t stop it, couldn’t hold back the wave of pleasure that was crashing through you. “Michael, I… I can’t—” Your voice broke off, your body seizing as your orgasm tore through you, violent and all-consuming.

He watched you intently, his gaze never leaving your face as you came undone beneath him, your walls clenching and pulsing around him like a vice. The room seemed to spin around you, the sound of your moans echoing in your ears as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through your body, leaving you breathless and shaking.

“Fuck,” Michael growled, his own control slipping as he felt your cunt tighten around him. His teeth gritted together, his jaw clenched as he pounded into you harder, chasing his own release. “God, you feel so damn good. So tight, so perfect.”

His thrusts grew erratic, the muscles in his arms and chest straining as he buried himself deep inside you. You could feel him swelling, twitching, his length throbbing as he neared his breaking point. A guttural groan escaped his lips as he slammed into you one final time, his entire body tensing as he spilled his hot, thick seed deep inside you.

“Shit!” he snarled, his body shaking as his orgasm hit him like a freight train. His grip on your hips tightened, holding you in place as he emptied himself into you, his release filling you, warm and thick. He didn’t move for a moment, just stayed there, buried deep inside you as his length twitched and pulsed, his breathing ragged and uneven.

Your body was spent, trembling from the intensity of the moment, but even as your legs shook and your muscles screamed in exhaustion, there was a deep, primal satisfaction in the way he filled you. The wet, sticky mess of your combined release seeped out of you, trickling down your thighs and staining the sheets beneath you. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex, and you could feel the steady thrum of your own heartbeat in your ears, drowning out everything else.

Michael slowly withdrew from you, his length slipping out of your slick heat with a wet sound that made you whimper. You felt empty without him, your body aching from the loss of him, but the sharp sting of your sensitivity kept you grounded. He glanced down at the mess between your legs, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched his seed spill from you.

Without breaking eye contact, Michael slipped out of bed, leaving you sprawled across the sheets, trembling in the aftermath of his touch. You could hear the soft sound of running water from the bathroom, the low hum of the shower creating a soothing background. The ache between your thighs served as a reminder of his power over you—of the way he’d pushed you to your limits, leaving you breathless and wanting, yet utterly satisfied.

Moments later, he returned, a damp washcloth in his hand. His expression was unreadable, his eyes dark and intent as he approached the bed. Kneeling beside you, he parted your legs, his movements slow and deliberate. The cool touch of the cloth against your heated skin made you flinch, a shiver running down your spine. Despite the tenderness of his actions, there was an unmistakable dominance in the way he took care of you—an unspoken declaration that you were his.

“Stay still, sweetheart,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding. “I need to clean you up. Don’t move.”

You swallowed, trying to steady the trembling in your limbs. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

His eyes held yours as his hands moved with a precision that was both gentle and possessive. He wiped away the traces of your shared pleasure, his fingers brushing over your oversensitive folds. You whimpered, your body jerking involuntarily at the contact, still so raw from the intensity of the night.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a deep, velvety growl. “All soft and vulnerable. Just the way I like you. So fragile after I’ve had my way with you.” He paused, his lips curving into a smirk as he watched you. “But you took it all, didn’t you? My good girl.”

“Yes, sir,” you breathed, your heart pounding at his words.

His gaze darkened, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his features. He set the washcloth aside and reached for your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “Who do you belong to?” he asked, his tone firm, leaving no room for doubt.

“To you, sir,” you answered, the words slipping out without hesitation.

“That’s right.” His voice was a soft growl, possessive and undeniably sensual. He leaned down, his lips brushing against yours—a kiss that was slow and deliberate, meant to remind you exactly who was in control. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, demanding entrance, and you parted them for him willingly. The kiss deepened, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, holding you in place as he tasted you, dominated you.

When he finally pulled away, his lips hovered just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You taste like surrender,” he whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “My perfect girl.”

He stood, his arms slipping around you as he pulled you to your feet. Your legs felt like jelly, and he held you close, supporting your weight as he guided you toward the bathroom. The steam enveloped you as you stepped inside, the warmth of the shower wrapping around you like a blanket. Michael sat down on the shower bench, pulling you onto his lap. His arms encircled your waist, holding you against him, his chest firm against your back.

“You did well tonight,” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and intimate. “Took everything I gave you. But you know I’m not done with you, don’t you?”

A weak smile tugged at your lips as you rested back against him, your head nestled into the crook of his neck. “What set you off tonight, sir?” you asked, your voice soft, a hint of teasing there despite your exhaustion.

He sighed, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice darkening. “Lisa. She’s done. Out of my life.” His hand moved, cupping your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple. “But you need to understand something, sweetheart—what we have is not just about my anger. It’s about you and me. You belong to me. Every inch of you.”

A shiver coursed through you at his words, your breath hitching as his fingers teased your sensitive skin. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, your voice quivering with a mix of fear and excitement.

“She doesn’t know about us,” he continued, his tone dripping with possessiveness. “But it doesn’t matter. You’re mine, regardless of who knows. No one else will touch you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. Only you,” you breathed, the weight of his claim sinking into your very being.

A satisfied sound rumbled deep in his chest, his mouth trailing along the side of your neck, his lips hot against your skin. “That’s my girl. You’ve been teasing me all week, haven’t you? Trying to provoke me?” His voice was dark, dangerous, filled with a promise that made your heart pound.

You felt a sly smile tug at your lips, despite the blush creeping across your cheeks. “I wanted your attention, sir.”

Michael let out a low, dangerous chuckle. “Well, you got it,” he murmured, his fingers moving down between your legs, brushing against your core. You gasped, your body arching into him, even as the ache from earlier still lingered. “But teasing me comes at a price, sweetheart. You know that.”

“Yes, sir,” you whimpered, feeling your body responding to his touch, the heat building again despite your exhaustion.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “Every inch of you belongs to me, and I’m going to remind you of that every chance I get.”

“Yes, sir. I belong to you,” you whispered, your voice shaky, your heart pounding as his fingers teased you, keeping you right at the edge without letting you fall over.

He turned your face toward the warm spray of the shower, his lips brushing a kiss to your temple. “Let the heat relax you. I need you ready for me, whenever I decide it’s time again.”

You let yourself melt into his touch, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing against your back, the water cascading down, soothing the soreness in your body. His hands moved up to your hair, undoing the knots, each touch a reminder of his claim over you.

“Who knew having an affair with your boss would lead to this,” you murmured, a wry smile playing on your lips, your eyes fluttering closed.

Michael’s hand moved to grip your jaw, tilting your head back so you met his eyes. His gaze was dark, filled with a fire that made your breath catch in your throat. “This is not just an affair,” he growled, his voice filled with raw, unfiltered dominance. “You are mine. Completely. Body, mind, and soul.”

His lips claimed yours in a kiss that was searing, possessive—one that left you breathless, a reminder of his control over you.

When he pulled back, his voice was a low rumble, each word laced with intent. “I won’t let you forget that. Not now, not ever. You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you remember that every time I touch you.”

Your eyes closed as his words sank in, the weight of them wrapping around you like a blanket. “I won’t forget, sir. I promise.”

He let out a satisfied hum, his fingers trailing down your throat, resting just above your collarbone. “That’s my girl. Always so obedient. Now hush and relax. Tonight, you’re going to rest, and when you wake up, you’ll remember exactly who you belong to.”

His lips brushed against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “And next time, sweetheart, when I decide to take you again, I’ll remind you just how much you need me. Just how much you crave every touch, every command. You’ll beg for it, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation and submission.

“That’s right,” he growled softly, his lips pressing against your neck, marking you with gentle kisses that promised both pleasure and possession. “You’re my good girl. And I take care of what’s mine.”

You nodded, resting against him as the warmth of the water washed over you, feeling his arms around you—a shelter, a cage, and a sanctuary, all at once. And as his fingers traced lazy patterns along your skin, you knew there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

[hellsslibrary]

sub...Michael Kaiser...with male reader...please...I'm begging...

Just saw the latest chapter and him saying "please" made me simultaneously combust.

What if he says that word but on a completely different context, iykwim 👀👀👀👀

"In an ideal relationship, pure love and dirty sex complement each other, not exclude each other."

#a.n. : You can't imagine how much fun it was to write this, different sides of the dominant were fighting inside me, it was wild.

MASTERLIST is here.

!!Warnings: top!dom!male!reader, sub!bottom!Michael, brat taming, humiliation, light strangulation, dry orgasm, you dig Kaiser to the point of half death, reader breaks the bed and unironically fights Alexis for a place in the hotel with Michael by playing tic-tac-toe (mention, I thought it was funny), Kaiser is literally folded in half, one bite to his ankle and a slight mention of blood, three phrases in German (my half-German roots take over), riding.

It was obviously not a revelation to Kaiser why this had started. He had started to understand it the moment you almost fought Ness to share a hotel room with him. After all, you, as adults and completely mentally ill people, played tic-tac-toe and you beat Alexis. After all, he could survive a couple of nights not in a room with Michael, but you? Oh no, you had too big of a plan for him.

He had figured it out himself, as soon as he saw that you were actually focused on winning this stupid game and not playing for fun... But I guess he didn't understand what exactly was waiting for him. Although that's the best part.

"G-gott! Y/n, slow d-down! This is, oh shit, this is too mu-much!" came out unintelligibly from his lips, while he grabbed the sheets beneath him with all his might, his graceful fingers almost tearing apart the poor fabric that was holding on with all its might.

"Are you sure?" you clarify, knowing he won’t answer because he doesn’t want to, but he also doesn’t want to seem too needy.

And so he does. He stays silent, burying his face in the pillows and pushing his ass back a little more to somehow meet your ruthless thrusts that didn’t allow him to breathe properly.

You squeeze his hips, pressing lightly on his stomach under your fingers, causing him to whine loudly, even muffled by the cotton pillowcases. His toned ass jiggles slightly with each thrust, making you want to bite one of his cheeks right now, but oh, what a shame the human body can’t bend like that, huh?

Kaiser felt too good as you admired his ass and his bulging back without any other thought. He felt like his whole being was melting, turning into nothing more than obedient plasticine in your hands, which you could bend as you wish.

He bites his lip to hold back another moan. It seems like he can hear his heartbeat in every part of his body, no matter how unimportant or far from his head. It seems like his blood is so hot that he is about to melt... Not that it is not true, considering how sweaty you both have been for the last few dozen minutes.

"Aren't you going to answer me, handsome? Or do you want me to stop and leave you empty and thirsty, hm?" your whisper sends involuntary goosebumps down his body when he realizes that your chest is rubbing against his back and he makes some kind of sound similar to hiccups, turning his head to the side.

"Shut up."

The phrase made your hips freeze almost immediately, your eyebrow involuntarily crawling up at the fact that he had the strength to speak clearly, and also to act like a complete brat, when you were obviously lifting him to Heaven and back with your actions.

"Move, idiot. Why the hell did you stop?"

Your eye twitched and you took a deep breath, looking down at his frowning, flushed face. There were traces of moisture all over his face from tears and sweat mixed together, his lips were slightly swollen from holding back moans, but most importantly, his eyes. The shine in them. He knew what he was doing, or rather, what he was saying.

Before he could come to his senses, your lips spread into an almost animalistic smile and your cock completely slipped out of him. Kaiser was about to complain, but you abruptly flip him over onto his back, and then immediately, without warning, you penetrate inside.

His next moan was probably heard by everyone in the hotel, or at least on your floor. And all the following ones, too. He was no longer holding back, moaning at the top of his lungs. His hands were looking for something to grab onto and wanted to close around your shoulders, but you would not allow him such luxury, so you squeezed his palms above his head.

"What a pity. If you want to act like a little slut, then I will have to treat you like one," you lean right over his face, sliding out so that only your tip remains inside him, and then penetrate in the roughest way you can.

"Ohhh, ple-please... Ple-please, fuck, s-sir, I b-beg yo-you... P-please!"

He himself did not understand what he was begging for, while you just let out a chuckle from this. Michael could barely form any coherent words, he was just mumbling obvious nonsense now.

Your fingers squeezed the blond's leg at his knee, throwing one of his legs over your shoulder, practically folding him in half. He muttered something unintelligible, tears starting to flow from his closed eyes while his hands clenched into fists helplessly in your grip.

"What? You decided to fix yourself in a couple of seconds, handsome? That's not like you. My dick makes you drunk?" he would never admit that it did, but his head shook in agreement too convulsively.

You bite his ankle, digging into the white skin, causing him to cry out in pain, but he doesn't complain. He just stares excitedly at the small trickle of blood rolling down his leg. Your free hand, not holding his hand, falls on his neck.

And God, something clicks inside him. He cums, but nothing comes out, in that same second, although your hand did not have time to settle down and squeeze properly. You only look at the pathetic state of the German while he experiences a dry orgasm and how his cock twitches.

"What a pity... Although you are a smart boy. Even without realizing anything, you do not dare to cum for real without my permission..." Michael only moans in response, not being able to say anything anymore, especially now that you are blocking part of his air.

"Please, Y-y/n," he manages to mumble somehow, looking at you with empty, smoky eyes, hazed with a haze of lust, and you feel how he squeezes around your cock. Probably on purpose, but now you do not care.

"Please what, baby? You have to speak clearly," he frowns, looking away and staring at some tasteless painting on the wall, trying to pull some kind of speech out of his brain.

"Let me cum... Bitte, mein schatz," Kaiser whines, managing to somehow rise up, although it is clearly uncomfortable and even painful for him, given the position he is in, and kissing the corner of your lips, missing the main target. "Bitte lass mich abspritzen, lass mich auf deinen Schwanz abspritzen..."

You feel something break inside you. He looked beautiful and didn't even seem embarrassed as usual by his obvious vulnerability and the state of some kind of toy in your hands. In the end, he even found the strength to kiss you and didn't even wince at the fact that he literally bent in half for a couple of seconds. Well, how can you not spoil such a boy, right?

His head falls back, he sighs raggedly when you begin to pound him with the maximum speed and roughness you can muster right now. The bed beneath you creaks pitifully, as does Kaiser himself, not expecting such pressure.

"Dann komm, Hübscher," your words send him over the edge immediately, squeezing your cock as if in a vice.

He paints your and his stomach white, cumming surprisingly much. And he doesn't react at all when you continue your thrusts with a same force, only small sighs escaping from his lips.

But then he screams and something cracks under you. You manage to catch him and throw his leg aside carefully but quickly, and press him to your chest.

"You... Managed to break the bed? Wow, new even for you," Michael mutters, watching the mattress and sheets sag in the hole in the bed, chuckling hoarsely and weakly hugging your shoulders now that he has this opportunity.

"I'll ask to change the room and pay for the bed... I don't even want to imagine the face of the girl at the reception, but..." You look up at the blond, who is now sitting on your lap and thoughtfully narrow your gaze.

"Ride you? Good," he understands what is needed, feeling that you have not yet finished and managed to twitch inside him even at such a moment. "You can't be trusted with the pace anymore, you're too wild... Next time we're in hotels, I'll ride you."

"Fair and sweet, I'm more than willing," he starts moving his hips, moaning with every movement, still sensitive from his orgasm, trying not to go too fast so you both don't fall off the bed... Until the broken part of the bed falls to the floor, causing a huge noise, but hey, you're facing the ace of German youth football, who cares? Especially one so rarely vulnerable and caring like this.

[solannn]

─── ꒰𝓗𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝓐𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓꒱

─── 🌸 𝓦𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; ROUGH SEX (?), BREEDING KINK, INTOXICATED SEX ( SMOKE PLAY ), BURN MARK, AMAB!READER, BOTH ARE DICKS, F-SLUR, SLUT SHAMING, DIRTY TALK, LOVE BITES, P IN ASS, POOLRY WRITTEN, UNPROTECTED SEX

─── 🌸 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ; IN 𝓦HICH A HEATED ARGUMENT LEADS TO A ROUGH SEX

for my moots @vrtualirl

During a soccer match, You didn't follow Kaiser's plan to pass the ball to him for the final goal, but instead passed the ball to another teammate, Isagi, his rival he despises the most. Kaiser was furious with you. "[Name]!" he shouted your name across the field, you were talking to his rival about the goal, which it enraged him even more, you turned to him and saw him stomping towards you, his eyebrows furrowed, his face irritated. "I think I fucked up lol, he'll probably yell at me like a bitch, I swear to god." You sighed and told your soccer teammate to leave so you wouldn't have to witness their fight. "You fucking, fucked everything up." Kaiser reached up to your face and grabbed your jersey and lifted you up slightly, he forcing you to look him in the eye. "Did you even listen to my idea, were you even listening to me ? What were you thinking playing with this fucking rats ?" Kaiser's face turned dark at the thought of seeing you playing with Isagi.

"I think I did my job by playing, lmao by playing the soccer game ? Did you fucking think you could give me orders? I’m not your bitch, and You're not my goddamn father, so calm the fuck down." You replied by rolling your eyes, thinking his anger at you was useless. "Shut the fuck up, Bëchker. You're the annoying person I've ever seen, acting like a shit and helping Isagi score when I told you to give me the ball to me." he used your lastname to find a way to shut you up, he let go of your shirt and grabbed his hair and pulled it.

You whimpered faintly at the pain. "Fuck off you cunt! Leave my fucking hair alone, you hoe! leave it alone, shit. You're getting upset just over a stupid match, it seems like you're the stupid one here acting like this and grabbing your hair, are you jealous that my haircut isn't messed up and doesn’t look like two rats fucking tails?!" You let go of his grip and frowned. "You're getting me mad as fuck over some fucking soccer game, I swear, why are you so stubborn?" You snapped at him as you gave him the finger and you walked away. "Fuck you." Kaiser whispered as he peered at you heading for the exit. You and he were the only people left in the field, but now he was alone. He clenched his fist, still angry at you.

In a long corridor you made your way to the shower on your left. You sighed at the interaction you'd just had, sometime the boy wanted to made you throw him out the window, he was a spoiled bitch in your opinion. He acted as if there were no consequences to his actions. As you stepped into the room and undressed yourself to wash yourself, you entered the shower and turned on the water, the water was hot enough as you wanted it.

The warm water touching your skin was so pleasant that all the negative thoughts you'd had about Kaiser began to slip away. But then you heard the door slam, someone had entered the shower room and you knew who it was. You ignored the person, deciding to concentrate on your shower, and after a several minutes you turned off the water and stepped out of the stall. The person who had entered the shower after him also came out at the same time, you were really irritated, all you wanted to do everything to avoid him, you tried to be positive and think it was a coincidence that pissed you off.

"Are you doing this on purpose or what, asshole, hope you fucking die you bitch." You couldn't stop yourself from insulting him, his attitude pissed you off immensely. "Shut the fuck up, bitch." Kaiser replied without even looking at you. You grunted and wiped yourself with your towel and put on a pair of underpants, and the tension between you two was awkward, but you knew it would be worse when you were in the dorm with him, since you shared the same room as him. You left the shower room first, leaving Kaiser none the wiser. The blonde frowned as he watched you leave. "Shitty whore, I’ll make you regret."

You made your way to your dormitory, already tired from the day. When you got to the door, it opened automatically and you entered without any trouble. You went to your closet and grabbed the shorts that Blue Lock had given you as pajamas, along with a sweater with the brand's logo on it. You quickly put them on and moved to your bed, which was only a few inches away. "I need a cigarette." You leaned over to your nightstand, pulled out one of the drawers, and took out your pack of cigarettes with the lighter. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, simultaneously opening the pack and placing one on your tongue.

You closed your mouth, the orange stalk at the end was quite unpleasant to feel on your tongue, the texture of the wrapping was also bitter. You brought your lighter to the cigarette and lit it, a small orange-yellow flame appeared. The cigarette was now lit, and you placed the lighter on the table after using it and extinguishing it. You inhaled the smoke, and after that you picked up the cigarette with your index and middle fingers, and removed the cigarette from your lips. You blew the smoke away. You did this several times, thinking deeply.

But someone interrupts your thoughts with a sentence. "Smoking in the bedroom? How many times do I have to tell you not to smoke in here, are you deaf, you stupid bastard?". Kaiser was in the bedroom getting dressed, but you hadn't noticed because you were deep in thought. "It's not my fucking problem that you can't stand smoking, you can just choke on it." Kaiser approached you as soon as you were dressed and leaned into your face. "Shut your mouth, you brainless faggot whore, I hope you die with your fucking cigarette," you backed away as soon as you heard him say that, but he started to get closer and closer.

"You think that insult will scare me or something faggot?" a silence answered him. Kaiser was standing over you, pinning you to your bed, and you decided to break the silence. Kaiser grabbed your cheeks and squeezed them to make you shut up he took your cigarette out of your mouth, the snout still lightened up. You noticed his blue ocean eyes were filled with hatred for what you'd done to him before, but also filled with lust. You tried to speak, but Kaiser leaned down and kissed you.

Your eyes widened, surprised by his action, he let go of your cheeks and closed his eyes. Your bodies pressed warmly against each other, breathing heavily. You closed your eyes as well and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your heart beat increased faster and faster with each passing second, Kaiser began to put his hands under your shirt, touching your flesh.

You moaned slightly as you felt his cold fingers touch your warm skin. The kisses became hot and the sexual tension between them increased, your knees grew weak from the pleasure you felt from the kiss. During the kiss you felt a burning on your neck, you whimpered at the pain you felt, you opened your eyes and saw Kaiser burning your neck with his cigarette, he pressed more and more on your neck with the cigarette and took advantage of your moaning to put his tongue into your mouth. You curled your toes as you felt Kaiser's wet muscles penetrate his mouth, tears welling up in your eyes.

In the middle of your kiss, Kaiser stopped. The blond crushed your cigarette against your skin for the last time and threw it on the bedroom floor. You whined that he'd stopped in the middle of making out, Kaiser rolled his eyes at your complaints. "Quit whining, whore." He stated and moved to your neck and kissed it, sucking on your sensitive skin and using his teeth to leave a red mark shaped like round on your skin.

You put your hand over your mouth and stifled the moan that escaped your throat, which displeased the Emperor. With his left hand, he pulled your hand away and gripped it tightly. "Don't hide your howl, I want to hear it, and that's an order," he let go of your arm as you obey by not putting your hands on your lips, the male begun licked the burn he'd made a few minutes ago. "Ngh... it hurtsss, but ts so good" a faint blush appeared on your cheeks, listening to Kaiser's deep and demanding voice, you felt yourself getting hard in your crotch, which Kaiser quickly noticed your erection.

Kaiser removed your shorts along with your underwear, exposing your erect cock. Your cock was leaking pre-cum from the tip, with his hand he gripped your cock, as you felt his hand taking your penis, it twitched at his grip and with with his thumb Kaiser pressed on your foreskin, and you let out a whimper as you arched your back in pleasure. You bent your legs and squeezed together when Kaiser put too much pressure on the tip.

The blonde easily separate your legs because of how weak they were. As he stroked your dick dryly without using any spit or lube as the mouvements increased ad the second passed, as he left a few fresh and painful bites marks on your thighs as he rubbed your dick at the same times . "You're going way too fast," you whined, feeling your legs curling and shaking as your finger nails was digging into his neck’s flesh at the hard pleasure you felt. With his other hand, he reached under your shirt and moved his hand to your shirt, pinching and twisted your nipples with his fingers.

All of this overstimulated you enormously, you couldn't stop yourself from dropping a thick, white and sticky white liquid on Kaiser's hand and squirting your semen on the boy's pajamas. Kaiser glanced at you with cums on his palms and spoke “did I even allow to cum?” He demanded as he lift up his brows as he starred at you, under pressure you nodded no. “Then fucking don’t it if I didn’t say anything.” You sigh as your hair was scattered on the beds, sweat was on your forehead and the heat was increasing between the two of you, you were already tired knowing it wasn't over yet. Kaiser grunted, "Tired already, whore? We've only just started," he lifted your legs and put them over his shoulders. “Before you ask, we don’t need a safe word. You should handle everything I want to give you.” You frowned at him. “That’s the stupidest I’ve ever heard from you, we do fucking need a safe word.” You argued back but he couldn’t give a single shit about your words, he was the one ordering here.

He pulled down his pants and his underwear slightly, the gap was big enough to let his cock free from his clothes. His cock had boner, and seemed massively rigid in your eyes. It was abnormally long and large, did he got bigger you wondered in your head. “Spread your leg wider.” He ordered, which you did until you realized. “Hey! No prep or anything at all like my ass is dry?” You inquired about if he was going to prepare you, he looked he was going straightforward to your butthole without any spit or lubrifiant. “I don’t think you fucking need prep by the way you were acting, i don’t care if you’re not prepared you’ll handle it and love it anyway you bitch.” He grabbed his cock and pushed his tips toward your entrance, then he slowly put it in puckered hole. When he fully entered, he made a low rough noise at how tight was your hole, he bent closer to your face with your legs still on his shoulders, he was slightly impressed at how flexible you were.

“Fuckkk, you’re fuckin’ tight as hell..”Kaiser moaned at the savoring the exquisite sensation of your dry walls clenching around him. you tried you best to adjust to its size, but the male started to began to move, rolling his hips against yours, you felt like he was ripping your hole with his cock inside of you. The rapidity of his thrust slowly boosted ; all the things you could do is whine at how bad it was hurting although you were also pleased by his thrust. As the adult gripped with his hands your hips, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, as he tried to find your prostate located in your butthole.

Once he find it, he took time to abuse it as he please, you made one of the lewd sounds you could ever made as you cried out to go slower as tears flowed down your face at the ecstasy he made you feeling. Your back arched as your nail clawed at Kaiser’s neck leaving red scratches on it. You felt you eye-lids grew heavier, you couldn’t think at what you were doing but the only thing you knew is that you came on your sweatshirt and it also squirted on your face as you fell into unconsciousness in your bed. Kaiser remarks that you were not awake anymore, he did few more thrust before letting his semen escape his urethral opening, his cum filled your walls as he took off his cock out of it. Seeing you with his sperm dripping from your was kinda of you, sometimes he wished you were a girl just breed you til you were pregnant.

He sighed and captured your hands to take it off his neck, his rubbed his neck as he touched one of the scratches you made and glanced at it, a crimson liquid was on his fingertip, blood. Now he has to disinfect his neck, and he has also have to take care of your case too.

[livelaughlovesubs]

I can’t stop thinking about a religious character on the verge of orgasm. Like imagine them saying:

“Oh lord, heavens, I’m arriving”

“Indeed, I'm on the break of enlightenment”

“God has blessed me with offspring”

“My time has come, the hour is near, I’m ascending”

(For example) Fyodor, Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, sunday, argenti

[maxillness]

'•.¸♡ MASTERLIST ♡¸.•'

'•.¸♡TW♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝Pretty Boy❞

╰┈➤ ❝If Daddy Knew❞ → ❝Daddy Knows❞

╰┈➤ ❝Wet Body❞

╰┈➤ ❝Happy Fucking New Years❞

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝I Can See You❞

'•.¸♡SS♡¸.•'

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Girls Like Girls❞

╰┈➤ ❝She Likes A Boy❞

'•.¸♡CH♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝My Ass❞

���˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Dangerous Woman❞

'•.¸♡LL♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝Dangerous Game❞

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Stacy's Brother❞

'•.¸♡LS2♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝Mafia AU, Chap 2❞

'•.¸♡MW2♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝From People You Know, To People You Don't❞

╰┈➤ ❝Let Them Watch❞

╰┈➤ ❝Malaysia 2013 (Mark’s Version)❞

╰┈➤ ❝Tits Like A Rock❞

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Light❞

↳˗ˏˋsmauˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Write Me A Song❞

'•.¸♡DR3♡¸.•'

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Favorite❞

'•.¸♡LN4♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝Only For Me To Hear❞

╰┈➤ ❝Blow Me❞

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Nattely❞ → ❝I Don't Forgive You❞

╰┈➤ ❝Friends Don't Fuck❞

'•.¸♡SV5♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝Praises And Babies❞

╰┈➤ ❝I Love You❞

╰┈➤ ❝Malaysia 2013 (Sebastian’s Version)❞

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Touch It❞

╰┈➤ ❝Ocean Eyes❞

╰┈➤ ❝Skin❞

╰┈➤ ❝Gorgeous❞

'•.¸♡NR6♡¸.•'

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝I Like You Best❞

╰┈➤ ❝Guilty As Sin?❞

↳˗ˏˋsmauˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Soft Launch❞

'•.¸♡KR7♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝A Good Use Of That Mouth❞

╰┈➤ ❝Tell Me Your Sounds❞ → ❝Any Silent Man Scream❞

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Figure You Out❞

╰┈➤ ❝Darling❞

'•.¸♡MS7♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝You’re Gonna Help Me❞

'•.¸♡PG10 ♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝She's What I Like❞

'•.¸♡SP11♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝Mafia AU, Chap 1❞

↳˗ˏˋsmauˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Christmas Problems❞

'•.¸♡FA14♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝ Bébé Gorçon❞

╰┈➤ ❝Stranger Danger❞

╰┈➤ ❝Struggles❞

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Sugar Daddy❞

╰┈➤ ❝Troublemaker❞

'•.¸♡MH14♡¸.•'

⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡… ⋙

'•.¸♡CL16♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝So Pretty, And Just For Me❞

╰┈➤ ❝Different Kind Of Good Morning❞

╰┈➤ ❝Good At Other Things❞

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Talking Body❞

╰┈➤ ❝Premier Amour❞

'•.¸♡LS18♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝That's What Girlfriends Are For❞

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Superstar❞

╰┈➤ ❝Shape Of You❞

╰┈➤ ❝Sailor Song❞

'•.¸♡KM20♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝Cold Hands❞

╰┈➤ ❝Christmas Sex❞

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Igen I Dag❞

╰┈➤ ❝Hooked❞

╰┈➤ ❝My oh my❞

'•.¸♡JH20♡¸.•'

⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡… ⋙

'•.¸♡YT22♡¸.•'

⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡… ⋙

'•.¸♡JB22♡¸.•'

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝She's Got That❞

╰┈➤ ❝Older❞ → ❝Perfume❞

╰┈➤ ❝Need You Now❞

'•.¸♡AA23♡¸.•'

⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡… ⋙

'•.¸♡ZG24♡¸.•'

⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡… ⋙

'•.¸♡NH27♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝A Little Too Much Kirschwasser❞

╰┈➤ ❝What A Mess❞

'•.¸♡EO31♡¸.•'

⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡… ⋙

'•.¸♡MV33♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝Fucking Whore❞

╰┈➤ ❝You Say You Hate Me❞

╰┈➤ ❝Head Over Heels❞

╰┈➤ ❝It's Okay To Cry❞

╰┈➤ ❝This Fkn Bratty Attitude❞

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Dress❞

╰┈➤ ❝FU In My Head❞

'•.¸♡LH44♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝So Good For Her❞

╰┈➤ ❝I'll Show You How Sorry I Am❞

╰┈➤ ❝Sir Lewis❞

╰┈➤ ❝Braid Me❞

╰┈➤ ❝Satisfy The Fans❞

╰┈➤ ❝I’m Sorry❞

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Secret Love Song❞

╰┈➤ ❝Pipe❞

╰┈➤ ❝All To You❞

╰┈➤ ❝18❞

↳˗ˏˋsmauˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝On The House❞

'•.¸♡MSC47♡¸.•'

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝American Town❞

↳˗ˏˋsmauˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Makkinen 2.0❞

'•.¸♡CS55♡¸.•'

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Tonight (I'm Fuckin' You)❞

╰┈➤ ❝Invisible❞

'•.¸♡GR63♡¸.•'

⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡… ⋙

'•.¸♡VB77♡¸.•'

⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡… ⋙

'•.¸♡OP81♡¸.•'

╰┈➤ ❝Help With A Girl❞

↳˗ˏˋmusic mondayˊˎ˗ ↴

╰┈➤ ❝Treat You Better❞

Kinktober ‘24

[nucrests]

Michael "attempting" and failing at keeping quiet

[specialgrades]

— thinking about . . .

men who swear up and down they’re not into you— or men for that matter. men who flirt with women as often as they can. men who drink a little too much during a night out and start grinding against you in the dimly lit club you’re in. men who’s legs feel like jelly and skin feels hot as you guide their hips against yours. men who turn to putty as you drag them outside. men who forget every bit of elegance when they’re pinned against the wall. men who weakly beg for you to fuck them right there in the decrepit alleyway. men who wake up the next morning barely being able to walk and can’t look you in the eye now. men who sport dark hickeys and bite marks from you as they attempt to flirt with another girl to distract from how good you made them feel the night prior.

VINSMOKE SANJI, spirit albarn, ryusei shido, satoru gojo, michael kaiser, josuke higashikata, warren worthington iii

[redcoralpot]

U Malatu - Mike Schmidt x M! Reader

Summary: Mike gets a call back on the ad he had sent out for a new babysitter for Abby. While they were interested in the job, Mike was more than interested in them.

Warnings: NSFW content (masturbation), and mentions of murder.

Word Count: 1.55K

Notes: Consider this a gift for the gay Mike simps!!

-

Mike had expected nothing of it, really. He had paid a newspaper company a few dollars to display ads for a babysitter in their daily papers; a last ditch attempt before starting his new job at a local pizzeria. He was working the night shifts, and with his office being in the middle of a highly dangerous, abandoned building, he hesitated in bringing his little sister along. Abby was only ten years old– who knows what she would get into?

So, when his phone rang with a call from an unknown number, Mike immediately answered, “Hello?”

Radio silence from the other end. His mother always had warned him about spam. 

His finger hovered over a red button, ready to end the call, when a noise froze any movement, “Um… are you Mike Schmidt?”

“Yeah, this is him.”

The caller cleared their throat, “Okay, so, I’m calling about a babysitting ad I saw at a local diner; I’m interested. Is it possible for us to meet there to discuss details?”

“Woah, hold on. What’s your name?” Mike questioned, folding his jacket over a chair.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll meet you outside of Sparky’s at four o’clock. I’m looking forward to it!”

“Wait–” That was the only thing he could respond with before the line cut out, and his home screen went back to normal.

Suspicious. Maybe he should have gone a different route than dropping the opportunity of watching over a vulnerable child into just anyone’s hands, but it was too late to turn back now. Sparky’s was a public place, at least, so this person would not be able to hurt Mike without getting caught. If he got any weird feelings from them, he’d immediately call it off and go home. 

Mike glanced at the oven clock, ticking away at time like it was nothing. Currently, it was only three, and the drive to the popular diner was only fifteen minutes away. Well, shit. He was too desperate to pass this up, not with the court constantly watching his back. Mike groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose, dreading his first shift already.

He ended up needing that extra time to get Abby comfortable enough for him to leave, and oh, how stubborn she was. Mike had to carry her over his shoulder just to get her into her bedroom, where she had plenty of sensory toys and items to occupy herself with. Additionally, Mike had put extra care into making sure she had the opposite too, such as noise canceling headphones in case the neighbor decided to mow his lawn again. The last time he saw her, she was huddled up on her desk again, using crayons to draw scribbly pictures of her imaginary friends. Yeah, imaginary. They weren’t real, as much as Abby claimed they were.

By the time he had gotten in the car, started it, and driven to Sparky’s, he was five minutes late. Yet, from his windshield, he could see a man in a quirky uniform sitting outside the main doors. Mike couldn’t see the details of the stranger– he needed to get his eyes checked– but he witnessed them flinch at the sound of his car door slamming. As he approached, the man jumped up with a sparkle in their eye, and held out a hand.

“Mike Schmidt?”

He didn’t shake it, causing the hand to fall awkwardly to your side, “Yeah.”

“Uh, anyways, I saw your ad. The diner hands out a paper full of ads with their menus, you see, and yours caught my eye.”

“You mentioned that.”

The man had a lopsided grin on his face, and you chuckled; the sound sent a spark up Mike’s spine, “Yes, yes I did. I make decent money, but I’m also looking for a bit of a side job too. Babysitting was on the top of my list, ‘cause I love kids.”

“Do you have any actual experience with it?”

“I was a babysitter for my first job in highschool,” he rambled, “my favorite kid was a little boy from a local daycare. His mom said he got diagnosed with autism and she needed extra help taking care of him during the evenings. He was a delight!”

“Why did you stop?”

“Ah, it’s a shame. Fritz, the little guy, was one of the kids that went missing at a pizzeria a while back. His mom was never the same after that, and I felt guilty that I wasn’t there.” You shuffled closer to the doors, shoulders tense.

“A pizzeria?”

You shrugged, “It got shut down soon after that. I guess when a couple of kids disappear into thin air in a restaurant, parents aren’t keen on bringing their children there anymore.”

Mike opened his mouth, ready to ask another question, but you stopped him, “Listen, I gotta go, this was my break. You have my number, right?”

He nodded, and you replied with your pinky and thumb sticking out of a fist, held to your ear. Mike watched as you disappeared into the diner, curiosity and another, more unknown feeling creeping up his chest. He remembered it so well, looking back on it.

-

Nowadays, Abby loves you. Mike could lean on the doorway, and a smile would tug on the corners of his lips as he watched you make shapes with your hands. A light was set in her room specifically for this purpose, as the shadows cast would mimic whole storylines. His little sister would view it in glee; the tales always accompanied by voice acting, your doing. Mike even started, in the back of his mind, to prefer the idea of spending the night like that instead of in front of a collection of security cameras. He observed your hands, how your body moved, your face, and more embarrassingly, your lips.

Mike studied how gentle and sickeningly sweet your voice was when you praised Abby, but also the stern expression that played in your eyes when she misbehaved. You would glance up at him sometimes, the manner still stained, and a heady feeling would slam into his brain. The experience always only lasted a few seconds, when his little sister would grumble again, and you were pulled back towards her. Frankly, there were times when Mike wished you would continue, though he’d never admit it. He pushed it down with everything else.

Alas, that can only work for so long– a man has needs. Those needs surface at the worst possible time, and for Mike, that was on his endless night shift at the pizzeria. He cursed under his breath, feeling his dick straining against his jeans. The feeling of your hand manhandling him out of his own front door was imprinted on his shoulder, even if his uniform vest covered it. Just thinking about it sent a shiver down his spine, and he closed his eyes as his eyebrows scrunched together.

“F-fuck.” He whispered. 

His seat shook as Mike shifted in it, fidgeting, unable to focus on the bright screens on his desk. The more he tried ignoring it, the more depraved thoughts infected his head. A finger trailed up the seam of his pants, his breath hitching, where it finally landed on the button holding it all together. Mike bit his lip and unbuttoned it, a whine escaping him as he palmed himself. 

He imagined it was you that was doing it, your strong palm cupping his crotch as easily as you did a mug at home. He snaked fingers into his boxers, sliding himself out of the top, and rested his forehead against the wood under the cameras. His dick twitched at the movement, and he brushed against the tip. Mike huffed as he slid his hand down, and then up, repeating; spreading precum as it came out. What else could you do with that strength?

Could you manhandle him on his hands and knees? You could, he knew, and you would trail your hands down his body. So very gentle, so very kind, for what you were about to do. You could hold his hips still to prevent him from thrusting up into your hand, as he whimpered in complaint. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he felt the stickiness grow in his hand; you could call him the most pathetic things and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. A pet, a slut, a little whore.

Mike let out a quiet moan, “Please…”

He’d face away from you as you thrust your own against his cock, not even earning the privilege to look at you. You would treat him as only a toy to use, whenever, and however you wanted. His ass would be red from how hard your skin slapped against his; the sting only sending down zaps of pleasure. You wouldn’t even bother taking off your own clothes, only his. 

“That’s it, that’s a good boy,” you’d grunt.

That same heady feeling slammed into Mike again, but this time was different– this time it was accompanied by a white flash in front of his eyes. His body seized upwards, drool smearing against the desktop. The guard felt warmth drip down his palm, onto his pants and the floor. For the first time in what felt like forever, he let out a deep, shaky breath. 

The stain was going to be hard to explain.

-

[dalliancekay]

Very Nice

No deep thoughts just: I'M FUCKING OBSESSED WITH THIS

Mr Sheen just casually turning my world upside down and inside out with a subtle flick of his eyes and an amused little pout.

[starxanemone]

꩜ⴰ ࣪˖ FROM DUST TO DUST

michael kaiser x gender neutral!reader

you liked to see him crumble—from dust to dust.

warnings ! mdni ! sexual content — sub! brat!kaiser, dom!reader, praise kink, cock sucking, handjob, teasing and denial. also slight character exploration based on his backstory.

note — as a femdom, i am a firm and avid fan of the idea of submissive kaiser. oliver aiku is my next target. also, sorry this took a while : ( i'm busy with uni.

From dust to dust; there is nothing more beautiful than to view the evolution of things. A being grows—all supple skin and flesh and fragile bones—from a mere zygote, born from the fusion of sperm and egg.

And you think that man goes through the same cycle again and again throughout their life. From learning how to stand on one’s feet to no longer being able to do so. From seeking to finding, then to seeking again. From exalted kings to abdicated ones. All from different facets of the humans of society; they go back to their roots, ultimately. From dust to dust.

Michael Kaiser is nothing more than a mere cog born to inevitably contribute and connect with society that is just like him. Yes, by the gods, he was birthed, chosen to be an emperor, and how ethereal he truly is as he devours and rules lowly humans that grovel underneath him. No mercy was shown to anyone that attempted to overthrow his position, and not a simple glimpse was spared for those who raved on about the ‘impossible.’

He was arrogant and his mouth never knew when to stop running. But he would get what he deserves. Just like all the kings and queens, and emperors and empresses that stood before his rule.

They all fall down.

From dust to dust.

“Now, now… quiet down, liebling.” You hum, pressing your right hand tightly over his swollen pink lips. You know he loves it when you call him that, especially with the way his hard-on presses against your knee. He thrashes a little underneath you with his cheeks, ears, and exposed neck all tinted in pinkish and red hues.

You like to think that he looks like a work of art when he is like this. Not when he is in his most glorious state, but when he looks human in their rawest form. All supple skin and flesh ( you’d like to paint with your lips ) and fragile bones ( you’d like to caress ).

You pull downwards, cat-like eyes gazing intently into his half-lidded ones as you hover your face over his sweatpants. You press your cheek right against it teasingly, smiling a little in amusement when he glares down at you.

“Kitty’s got bite, hm?” You chuckle, rubbing your cheek against his crotch, feeling his cock twitch underneath the fabric as you massage his hips with your fingers.

“S-Shut up, a-ah—”

He spits out his words, though you get the feeling that it’s not as angry as he would have liked it to sound, especially with the way he holds back his moan and breathes heavily towards the end.

“Oh,” You pout mockingly. “But you wouldn’t be in this position if you weren’t being such a slut earlier. Like, seriously, making out with me in front of everyone and leaving a hickey on my neck where everyone could see? All because you were jealous of sweet little Yoichi?”

“S-Stop,” He rasps out, bringing his hands down to cup your cheeks to lift it up from his clothed cock.

You can tell that he’s irked with the way you call his rival ‘sweet.’ Your smile softens and you pull yourself up to plant your chin against his chest.

“Why are you so envious, mein schatz?” You bring your hand up, thumbing against his pink bottom lip. You watch in fascination as you press on the soft skin, nail biting onto the flesh, leaving a small crescent in its wake.

His lips part and you grin lazily, slipping your finger into his mouth to touch the wet muscle. Your eyes don’t miss the way his tongue runs over the tip of your finger, brushing over your nail before his mouth closes around it entirely.

You bring your other palm up to cup the side of his cheek as you sit up on his abdomen again. His electro-blue irises and sharp ebony pupils swallow you entirely as he sucks and licks on your finger willingly.

Oh how you loved seeing him crumble like this. All of his wits and pride dispersed with a flick of your fingers. You who have given him the feeling of something new—something so incredibly yet not supposed to be foreign for any living human. An emotion that he could only utter as a wistful wish underneath the eyes of the constellations.

Love. So this is love.

You pull your finger back, chuckling a little as he lifts his head up to chase for the sensation between his lips again before dropping his head back down upon realizing his actions. His cheeks are flushed cherry red and his brows are furrowed as if his senses had come back, and you know that he is beating himself up over the constant lapses of weakness before the gaze of someone else. But you don’t care about that.

It was never a weakness to choose to open up oneself to somebody.

You cup his cheek, firmly this time.

“Why are you always so envious? Tell me.”

But he was a stubborn one.

He keeps his lips pressed firmly, glaring up at you in a disobeying manner. It doesn’t look very intimidating with his black cotton shirt half-way lifted up on his upper body, his hair scattered around his head like a makeshift blue pearlescent crown, and the cute little wet patch marking his grey sweatpants.

“Not talking, hm? Okay, then. Fine. We’ll do it your way.” You hum in amusement before you’re snaking back down onto his hips.

In a split second, you grasp the garter of his sweatpants and pull it down, wordlessly gazing at the way his curved cock slaps at the skin below his belly button.

He hisses, “W-What are you—”

“Shut up. Don’t talk.” You murmur before dipping your head down to lick at the pinkish tip. It was already oozing with precum, bubbling and dripping down against the length of his cock, tracing a vein.

“F-Fuck—” He groans, throwing his head back against the pillows.

You pull your lips away from his cock and strike your palm against his inner thigh, leaving a red mark though not enough to cause any significant pain.

Nevertheless, he hisses, eyes widening in shock. “Why did you—”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?” Your hands smooth over the spot you had just hit before traveling north once more. When your hands reach its destination, you blink when you hear a silent whine leave his mouth.

“Please…” You hear him mumble and your gaze flickers upwards, seeing his disheveled state. Eyes half lidded with his soft lashes pointing southwards, cheeks turning a shade darker than it was previously.

His hips twitch upwards and your gaze softens.

“Okay,” You breathe out. “Okay.”

You have to admit. You cave in way too fast.

You place your hands on the sides of his bare hips, squeezing as you lick your tongue flat across the length of his cock, stopping near the tip. You keep your eyes trained on him and his gaze on yours, brows furrowed over.

You brush your tongue repeatedly against the underside of his pink tip—now all shiny underneath the fluorescent lights of your shared apartment from the mixture of precum and your saliva. His hips twitch and you immediately hold it down, digging your fingers against his skin, leaving marks on the flesh.

“P-Please,” He groans quietly, eyes closing. “Give me more, liebling. Please.”

“Hm?” You hum, tongue toying with his tip. The little crevice is soft and smooth against your touch, now all sensitive. You press your tongue against the underside of it harder before taking just the tip inside your mouth. Your fingers trace against the veins protruding the length of his cock teasingly. “But you haven’t— haven’t answered my question yet.”

You suck on his tip lightly, just enough to have his stomach and shoulders twitching, and hips buck between your hold.

“I-I want you to look at me!” He groans, body twitching when you trace your tongue with more pressure against his length repeatedly, humming a little as you listen to him speak. “I w-want you to look at me only and not that worthless, pathetic man. H-He won’t serve you half as good as I do. He can’t. I want you to love me, and me only.”

You pull away momentarily, chuckling at his uncharacteristic honesty. He whines at the sudden loss of your touch.

“Oh but I already do.” You smile, pressing your lips against the side of his stomach. “I love you, and only you.”

He doesn’t respond, simply staring down at you with pink cheeks and furrowed brows.

He never says ‘I love you' back.

But you already knew how he was. He was never used to the straightforward affection and loving words directed at him, but that never bothered you. Being with him entailed having the ability to read between the lines—it entailed being able to appreciate the little crevices and permanent folds that marred his shirt and was never able to learn how to iron. You appreciated the marks left behind by the past and the past that brought about this present—this gift—him, and only him.

And that was alright with you.

You loved him. You had the ability to build him up, make him crumble, and build him up again.

From dust to dust.

But mere dusts of cement clumped together could form a stable foundation, the same way a cluster of atoms can make up a single cell, and how multiple similar cells can form tissue.

You loved him from dust to dust.

You lick a stripe up from the base of your palm up to your fingers, keeping your eyes trained on his and his to yours and what you were doing, before encircling your fingers around the length of his cock, pumping him up and down slowly. He jolts and heaves out a breathy moan each time your hand squeezes at the right areas, up towards his shiny pink tip leaking with his fluids and down once again. Your other hand plays with his balls and you grin at the way he throws his head back, eyes rolling up.

“You must be so tired, mein schatz, but it’s okay, you can come to me. I will always be here to make you feel better.” You mewl, smiling up at him with half-lidded eyes.

“A-Ah, fuck, don’t speak like that to me, I-I’m gonna cum—” He bucks his hips helplessly, whining.

“But why?” You giggle, tilting your head innocently, “Can’t I speak like that to the person I love?”

“S-Stop, haah—” He brings his hands up to cover half of his red face, blue eyes glaring down at yours, but you don’t falter.

“My poor baby,” You pout, pumping your hand against his cock upwards and brushing your thumb against his tip. You hear him choke a little. “You’re so beautiful and you work so hard! I’m so proud of you, hm?”

“H-Haah— I-I’m gonna, gonna cum!”

"Give it to me, my love."

His hips buck against your hand a few more times before he’s shooting spurts of his cum onto your face. He moans, eyes squeezing shut.

You shut your eyes, feeling the liquid spill all over your face for a few seconds.

After a while, you open your eyes to him breathing in and out deeply, his body laying limply on the bed with sweat thinly coating every inch of his skin.

You chuckle, wiping the cum off your face and bringing your hand up to taste it.

He raises his brow as you do so and scowls. “Don’t— don’t do that. That’s dirty.”

“And I happen to be a dirty person. I don't mind." You grin, licking your hand.

He’s silent for a while before he speaks up.

“But is it true?”

“What?” You question curiously, laying right beside him flat on your back. You turn your head to look into his eyes levelly.

“That you,” He purses his lips, voice growing more silent. “Love me?”

You smile, genuinely this time.

“Of course.”

From dust to dust.

[coryosbaby]

18+, MDNI !! Oliver Quick x reader x Michael Gavey

♡ Bimbo! Reader letting Oliver and Michael take turns on her

♡ Like ughh. It starts out at a party where the both of them are sulking in a corner. Two losers with no friends and slightly obsessive personalities trying to socialize? No way, no way

♡ Until you come along, all pretty and pink, tits out and underwear peeking out of your skirt. And they’re both drooling as they see you, embarrassed to look at each other because of the obvious hard ons they have

♡ And you’re a little airheaded, but you aren’t dumb, per se— you got into Oxford, for christs sake! — so you notice their wavering glances

♡ Introducing yourself to them, asking if you can sit down. The both of them parting like the red fucking sea to let you take a seat between them on some random frat boy’s stained couch. Your bubbly personality enticing the both of them as you tell them your name and about how you had seen them both around

♡ Going on a rant about how you and them are similar — you have companions, but they aren’t close ones, and you came to this party alone. Besides a few frat boys (with ill intentions), no one really wants to be your friend. Call it stuck up rich kid attitude, or whatever

♡ And they nod along, palming their bulges in their jeans like fucking pervs. Nasty, icky boys

♡ You don’t notice until a few minutes in, and looking down at each side of your thighs and into their laps, you let out a sweet little giggle

♡ Teasing the fuck out of them, all while they’re completely flustered as hell and stuttering out apologies. But you just shrug them off, tell them it’s okay

♡“If you want.. I can help? I’m good with my mouth and… other stuff. At least, that’s what my ex boyfriends said! We can go in a room upstairs, ‘m sure the guy who owns this house won’t mind.”

♡(It’s Felix’s house. He does mind, thank you very much, and is sickened by the sight he sees in his bedroom the next morning)

♡ Oliver and Michael are at loss for words at such a simple offer. Awkwardly nodding their heads, they refuse to aknowledge the other’s existence as you grab their hands and lead them upstairs

♡ When you get into one of the rooms, you shut and lock the door. Your lips find Oliver’s first, because he’s the closest. He kisses you rough, desperate. Not a virgin, but not completely experienced either. Probably a drunken fumble with a girl in high school, nothing more

♡ When you kiss Michael, he’s so soft. Like, insanely soft. Lips and touch alike. His hand finds your cheek and he holds your head in his hands when he does it. It’s sweet. Definitely a virgin

♡ You push them both onto the bed, and your fingers nimbly play with the zipper on your pink top. They both watch in wonder as you pull it down, sliding the shirt off your shoulders. No bra .

♡ Both literally gaping, mouths wide open, as they stare at your tits

♡“They’re nice, right? I think they’re my favorite part about me, honestly.”

♡ And then comes your skirt. Short, so they know the color of your underwear already (bubblegum pink)

♡ They both gape as you slide it down, revealing yourself to them so effortlessly. You tilt your head as you ask them to take their clothes off, too

♡ It’s instant. Buttons are undone as quick as lightening, shirts fly to the floor. Underwear is pushed past their ankles. They don’t even care at this point what the other is doing. The only thing in their focus is you

♡ Sliding your panties down, you step out of them and make your way over to the bed. You get on your hands and knees in front of them, pussy exposed and wet, looking back with a smile

♡ “Which one wants to go first?”

♡ Oliver is the braver one, since he has more experience

♡ His cock brushes up against your entrance, clumsily slipping against you. Michael watches, stroking himself with a shaky breath

♡ Oliver sheathes himself in you in one go, whining at your heat, his hands dig into your hips as he begins to thrust into you

♡ He’s not gentle, really. Not even close. He pounds into you, desperate and only thinking of his own aching dick as he splits you open. Mouth agape, sounds tumble out of your glossed lips as he pounds you into mattress

♡“Mmm, give it to me, give it t’me, just like that.”

♡ You’re moaning like a pornstar, feeling every drag and every ridge of him. His fingertips leave crescent moons in your hips, painting your skin with pretty indents of his infatuation

♡ Michael moves to your side and presses a warm kiss to your mouth. His cock sits big and heavy against his stomach, and you try to reach out and touch it but he slaps your hand away

♡ Is he getting a bit cocky? Maybe. He must be doing something right if he’s getting to screw a girl like you

♡ That’s probably why his big hand curls into your hair and he yanks your head back so he can slip his tongue into the warm confines of your mouth. Spit slick lips collide against sticky red ones, making a smear of divine crimson. Oliver, groaning and pent up, is close. So incredibly, undoubtedly close

♡ With a tiny cry, you try to guide him towards his release

♡“It’s good, yeah? My pussy’s so warm ‘n tight for you, Ollie. Cmon, want you to fill me up, want it so bad..”

♡ He can’t say no to that, spilling inside you with a deep stutter of his hips

♡ Michael watches in excitement.

♡ Absolutely fucking insane for that pussy, I’m telling you !!

♡ Practically throws Oliver out of the way to get at you. Watching the way your little hole gushes creamy white cum, he can’t help but push into it

♡ It’s warm, sticky, wet. It’s the best thing he’s ever felt

♡ Whimpers as he presses all the way in. He’s a little bit bigger than Oliver, and your cunt burns from the stretch

♡ But it’s nothing you can’t handle. Your ten inch dildos can vouch for that

♡ Oh, Michael is needy

♡ Needy, needy, needy

♡ The way he fucks— rutting into you like an animal, while also cooing to you as Oliver presses his thumb against your tongue— makes your vision practically white out

♡ Oliver isn’t a completely selfish boy, of course, and his fingers reach down and rub your clit

♡ It surprises you. Usually they pump and dump. You guess he’s just different because he’s a loser

♡ Michael spears his dick against that spongey spot inside you, and you mewl, fucking back onto him with an avaricious intensity

♡ He doesn’t last as long as Oliver, but that’s okay

♡ He’s a virgin, after all. You wouldn’t expect him to

♡ And ughhh when fills you up :(

♡ It’s so precious, the way he whimpers as he releases inside

♡ Oliver just watches, a smirk on his face

♡ The sick fucking freak is already hard again

♡ Ready to go another round

♡ The minute Michael pulls out, Oliver is behind you and you’re being used again

♡ It’s okay, though. You have all night for the two of them to abuse your little cunt <3 they’re pretty boys, after all. And pretty boys deserve to indulge in sweet, creamy pussy

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi

[hellsslibrary]

Hello! There's just not so many sub! Kaiser fics and I'm d y i n g to read those 😔😔

Can I request for a sub! Kaiser x male reader where Kaiser has a praise kink but doesn't ever want to admit it 👀

#a.n. :This is so same! Kaiser is such a babygirl, I want to kiss him, eat him, hug him, and then rock him in my arms and let him relax... But no, this bitch is always top, lol. Even funny.

"I don't like your damn praise! Just fuck me alre—...What?"

!!Warnings: Bottom!Sub!Michael, Dom!Top!Reader, sex on an indoor football field (it's empty, it just seemed interesting to me, imagine the echo there...), praise kink obviously, Michael tries to be dominant, but he's too much of a pillow princess (he came out so gentle... In his own way), in fact everything is quite vanilla, but he kicks you when he's unhappy, also very romantic in general. × And the reader is somehow connected with football company. You can be a manager, a football player, or even a cleaner there, honestly.

The football field in the building was closed at night, knowing full well how persistent football players in the leagues can be. Darkness, silence, idyll... Except for the flashlight from the phone somewhere in the middle of the field and quiet groans echoing from the walls.

"Why did you decide to have sex here? Plus, at this time?" You ask, looking over at Michael, who was clutching at the trimmed grass in the lawn as you thrust into him at a careful, almost tremulous pace.

“I think you said yourself that you wanted to experiment... So we’re starting with something easy,” Blonde whispers, wincing from the unpleasant feeling of artificial grass in his hands, so he just hugs your neck lazily.

“Well, yes, but... You obviously have some other reasons. But I won’t push if you don’t want to talk,” Michael just sighs at your words, but it immediately turns into a soft moan when your lips touch his neck.

“I just love the atmosphere in here, as weird as it sounds, so shut up and fuck me,” A disgruntled mutter escapes his lips, only to be cut short when he tilts his head back, giving you better access to his neck.

You look over his face, surprisingly too peaceful for him. Maybe this place really brought inner comfort to his soul, erasing all the doubts and burdens that he kept inside and sometimes shared with you. Maybe it was. But your heart broke at the sight of him for some reason, you understood his feelings more than anyone... Because you were probably the only one he was able to open up to so much.

“Micha? You’re a good boy,” echoes from your lips almost casually, but with a sickly sweet note that you want to listen to forever and drown in these sweet speeches.

"What was it?"

You find yourself torn from examining his face by his question. And really, why did you say that? He didn't do anything special during your entire session, which lasted about half an hour. And you too... But one look at him is enough for you to understand why.

Your attentive gaze glides over his perfect facial features, long eyelashes giving his eyes an unusual softness and warmth. Instantly you feel the desire to say that he is beautiful, extraordinarily beautiful. Faithful hands, strength and tenderness in every touch, sincerity and warmth in every word, just for you. The desire to praise, to say how much love and kindness he has, how he is able to bring a smile even in the most cloudy weather.

His soul shines brighter than the stars in the sky, his smile can melt the heart of icy granite. The desire to praise, express gratitude for all the beauty and kindness that he brings into this world. He is not just a person, he is magic, miracle, a spark that pushes you to move even in your most difficult moments.

The words seem unfair, but the heart is filled with feelings that are impossible to carry on the wind. Praise, approval, love — all these are small before the greatness of his soul and his existence. You really want to tell him about this so that he understands how amazing and significant he is to you. Just as the sun rises every morning, he awakens in you a feeling of awe and admiration that seems endless and will remain so.

“Because I love you,” You say without thinking, and immediately catch a light, rare blush on his cheeks.

His hand immediately drops down from your shoulder to cover the pink dust on his cheeks, but you intercept his hand, kissing his fingers tenderly, intertwining your fingers together.

"You idiot... Why so suddenly?" He asks, even if he doesn't wait for an answer, lightly kicking you in the side, groaning when you lean over him a little closer, hitting his sweet spot at a pleasant angle.

You find yourself thinking that you would worship him if he were God. It’s not that you didn’t already worship him... But he was definitely the person for whom even an atheist would reconsider their views on the world.

"Why suddenly? I'm always ready to praise you. You are tenacious, driven, incredibly smart, caring for those you care about in your own way... You are simply magnificent."

"Shut up, please shut up. I don't need your praise, just fuck me and..." He trails off, kicking you in the side again as he realizes something, "You didn't say that I'm handsome."

“Your beauty is a fact. But your appearance is far from the main thing that you have, even if you think differently... But if I started to list what I like about you externally, then we would move on to dithyrambs and ballads, and not to the climax."

Michael chuckles, finally distracted from contemplating you in response, realizing that he really feels a knot growing in his stomach. In general, he would never admit that he would be glad to listen to these dithyrambs and ballads and much more if it came from you. He's always taken praise for granted because, yes, he's Michael Kaiser, but now? He's just a puddle in your hands that's trying to look like ice.

“I’m not clenching around your cock right now because...” He cuts himself off, groaning as your mouth sucks on his neck in the area of his tattoo, “It’s not because I liked the praise, is that clear to both of us?”

“Of course, my King, as you say,” You say, biting the skin of his neck, causing him to whimper quietly as one of your hands slides to his cock, stroking it in time with your thrusts.

Your pace gradually picks up as you get closer too. And the sight of Michael, who clearly enjoyed your previous praise, did not at all ease your hard-on, nor did the warm walls around him.

"Call me!" He suddenly shouts, kicking you in the side once again, although you have no idea what he means at first, pulling away from his neck.

"Good boy?" You ask cautiously and to your surprise and pleasure, his cock twitches in your palm, and after a few thrusts he actually comes, squeezing you tighter than usual, which is why you can’t help but cum, thrusting into him a couple of times in post-orgasmic bliss, and then laying down on his chest.

The quiet rhythm of his heartbeat calmed you as he lightly ran his hand through your hair. You were both regaining your more than ragged breaths before the comfortable silence was interrupted by a question that made you chuckle hoarsely.

“Why did you ask this and not state it as a fact?”

[angie-words]

Previous meme dump!

Next meme dump!

I've had a couple of days off work this week thanks to cake day celebrations 🥳 I decided to treat myself to breakfast at the Victoria & Albert Museum café. It feels very much like a place Aziraphale would adore 🥰

Special thanks to @prinxlegolass for finding the text for the last meme!

[livelaughlovesubs]

~ 09.10 - Michael ~

Dom!reader x sub!michael - reader is gender neutral

Warning: thigh riding, dubcon (becomes consensual), dacryphilia, mind break, sub space, virgin Michael, corruption kink, slight hierophilia, public sex..?, a bit exhibitionist, teasing, kissing, making out, mentioned kidnapping, Michael cries a lot just saying, this is a little sad in the middle

~ Wordcount: 6.2k ~

Nini!rant: requested by @rae-pss - inspired by his evolution date, I SPEND TOO LONG ON THE PREMISE

Kinktober list 2024

It’s been a few days now that you’ve been brought to heaven by Raphael. He did promise you he’ll kidnap you one day, what you didn’t expect was for that ‘someday’ to happen this soon. As to how that happened? Well, the sky was clear that day, so much that he could see your silhouette from the edge of heaven. Leading to him darting down like a hawk who found its prey, and holding you between his arms before flying off again.

You didn’t even have time to yell or reach out to your companions, who were dumbfounded to the point of being frozen in place. It must have looked pretty stupid after all. Once you were brought to heaven, Raphael looked at you expectantly, as if waiting for a treat. “I’m not going to call you 'good boy', Rara, you kidnapped me.” You brushed him off, then sighed and asked, “I can’t go back down, huh?” He nodded his head. “As expected, fine, then show me around here.” This was a reaction he didn’t expect, why did you sound so done with everything—

The next few hours were spent with the little angel showing you around all excited, though he tried his hardest to not wag his tail. You followed closely, looking around this unfamiliar place. There weren’t any kind of fun things or shops in heaven, only houses for residents. It looked pretty depressing, especially because everything was rid of colors and purely white. When he asked if heaven ain’t better than hell or earth, you didn’t have the heart to answer honestly.

Soon you reached the last destination, his own place, where he would spend his nights. That’s when you found out all the seraphim’s sleep together, on the floor, with a thin cushion only. Compared to the devils, angels must have been real minimalists. To Raphael's dismay, Gabriel and Michael were also inside the building. You met Gabriel in the prayer room, where you almost got blinded by his halo. When your kidnapper saw him, he quickly tried to rush you out of the room, but Gabriel still noticed your presence.

“You brought Solomon’s descendant here? Why?” He shot you a glare, ready to put his scythe to use. You stared back all disgusted. “Don’t you dare, Gabriel. They belong to me.” He scoffed, and stood between you and the once-praying angel, to hide your form from his piercing gaze. The two of them were fighting like cats and dogs, basically not paying any attention to you anymore.

Which is why you took that opportunity to sneak away, tender steps as you backed out of the room. You aimlessly walked around their residence, exploring this new world, starting to pity their mundane lives. If you were to spend centuries in this boring place, where everything was white and monotone, you'd become a feral beast as well and probably lose your mind.

Like a miracle, you found something colorful, amid this white paradise. Carefully you stepped out of the building, into what seemed to be the garden. With a gentle swipe of your hand, you opened and closed the door, looking around to get familiar with your surroundings. There were flowers, everywhere, so many that it looked like straight out of a painting. It was simply beautiful. By the looks of it, this could be the garden of Eve that’s so infamous on earth, for this was a scenery so magnificent you didn’t anticipate it.

Heck, it looked a little out of place even, for so many colors to exist on this plain canvas that’s called heaven, as if god dropped a bucket of paint over this secret place. Slowly, you walked along the path to the huge apple tree in the middle. In front of it was a white pavilion, underneath it was a table with six chairs, but two of them had been stacked and pushed to the side.

“Beautiful…” you whispered breathlessly, eyes sparkling with admiration. There were so many kinds of flowers you’d expect the smell to be intense and intoxicating, but it wasn’t. This defied all logic, though you were kind of getting used to it by now. Only if you squeezed your eyes shut and focused solely on the smell, could you feel a sweet scent reach your nose, a scent you couldn’t quite describe. You tried to identify the smell and concentrated really hard, but to your surprise, you noticed a hint of sadness in the undertone of the scent.

Startled, you looked around, wondering if you were going crazy. Then you heard water flowing, no, to be more specific, someone watering the flowers. With even quieter steps, you approached the source of the noise and caught a glimpse of a figure with black hair. It must be Michael, you thought, and wanted to turn around and quickly leave before he tries to kill you, if not for him who mumbled, “Don’t run.” You froze in place, he didn’t even look up from the flowers, still tending to them.

You waited until he was done, nervously sweating as you clenched your hands. He wouldn’t kill you here, right? “Are you going to kill me?” Look at you, so bold, taking the initiative like this. Michael frowned, “Not here, I don’t want your filthy blood getting on my flowers.” So you were correct, Michael was the one who took care of those plants. “Ah.., ermm, understandable, those flowers are very pretty.”

The angel still had that distinct scorn on his face and a breath of arrogance, but he was beautiful nonetheless. His black hair stood out among all the colors, and the feathers of his wing that fluttered softly in the wind, as well as his right cheek which still hasn’t stopped crying. “Obviously they'd be pretty, I’m personally tending to them. Now get out, you are lucky I’m busy.” He walked past you, shoving you to the side and almost making you fall into the flowerbed, before filling up the watering can.

You stared at him emptily, then walked to the pavilion and sat down on one of the chairs, leaning back and watching him. “What do you think you are doing?” Michael then groaned, shooting you a furious look. “I’m looking at the flowers," You answered defiantly. “I thought I told you to get out—”

“Y/n!” Raphael’s voice rang through the garden, and he ran, almost tripping over Michael who was hovering near the entrance. “Urgh- don’t stand in my way, Michael.” When the black-haired angel heard that, he flared up, and his wing also flapped around very quickly, “Bloody hell Raphael, I was here first.” Quickly you stumbled across the yard and stopped the fight from escalating, grabbing the arm of the red angel, “Don’t fight, don’t fight, I’m here Rara. So, where did you want to take me?”

Raphael gave the other angel a final glare, before turning to you, "I haven't shown you your bedroom yet, come." Afterward, he walked away without looking back, holding your hand in his. Your gaze lingered on Michael for a while, longer than intended, before eventually turning around and following the much too enthusiastic boy.

That was your first day in heaven, and the days that followed weren’t all that different. It has become your daily routine to come to the garden, every single day. You were simply infatuated by the exotic flowers, and frankly, because you were curious about Michael. Why was he so dead on taking care of these flowers? Did he like pretty things, or was this simply his hobby? Every day, without fail, you’d bring some snacks and drinks with you and enjoy them under the pretty pavilion. Sometimes, more often than not, you’d be accompanied by Raphael as well.

Michael didn’t like that one bit, but since this garden belonged to all three seraphim’s, he couldn’t forbid Raphael from entering. Whenever you two spend time chatting and eating, he’d try to ignore you. Yet he couldn’t help but steal the occasional glances at the two of you being all lovely dovely. If you were to meet his face during these moments, he'd have an expression of pure disgust on his face, though he would never look away. Sometimes he also stares with an expression that wasn't disgust, it was something you couldn't put your finger on.

Particularly so when you’d pat and stroke Raphael on the head, hug him goodbye, or have him lay his head on your lap while you laugh all carefree. There was something about it, that seemed way too familiar, so intimate that it made him reminisce.

Back to the present, this time you came to the garden alone, which was rare, but not unusual. Michael hovered on the ground, the watering can placed next to him, he found it to be insane how used he’s gotten to your presence. Normally, he'd immediately luge for you and try to murder you, but now he's tolerating you for the sake of Raphael. You walked up to the angel, squatting, looking at the same batch of flowers he was looking at. He frowned at you for a split second, before turning his gaze back to the flowers.

“They are pretty, what’s their name?” You eventually asked, after admiring them for a good second. The flower had a pure white color, it hung from the thin stem, looking like multiple little bells. Michael stayed quiet for a moment, a gentle breeze running through his silky long hair, making them fly up a little. His soft feathers moved gently, proof of how soft they must be, you felt an impulse to reach out and touch them. He pondered over if he wanted to talk to the likes of you, then answered, “Lily of the valley.”

After hearing his answer, your eyes widened, you didn’t expect him to actually reply to you, and so calmly as well, it almost made you flustered. Wanting to continue the conversation, you quickly chirped, “Ah- it’s a pretty name.. erm, do these flowers have a meaning?” His head hung low when you voiced that question, the scent of sadness tickled your nose again.

Since you’ve spend so much time in the garden, you’ve come to understand it was the scent of Michael, who cried all the time. He debated with himself whether or not he should tell you, it was a little too intimate to tell strangers after all, yet there was something about you that made him feel weirdly at ease, and he whispered almost inaudibly, “They remind me of someone.” You didn’t need to ask twice to understand who he meant, instead, you chuckled. The boy grabbed your collar with an angry expression, and snapped, “What are you laughing at?”

You didn’t resist and explained, “Nothing, I’m not making fun of you. It was a bittersweet laugh.” Michael hesitated, the hand clutching your collar trembled slightly. “What do you mean.” He demanded, not even really asking. “It’s just… there’s someone I know who also plants flowers to remember his loved ones.” His grip loosened, and he pulled his hand back, you could swear you noticed his tears flow a little faster. “I think I know the name of the flower as well, it was— gardenia.”

He was a smart man, even if you beat around the bush he was fully aware of the person you meant. Seeing as you got him on your hook, it was time to spill the tea, just for the drama effect. You weren't sure where you were going with this, though you've always wanted to help these forsaken brothers, even if just a little, “but you know, he was a clumsy man. Even though he was the one who told me the name of the flower, he'd mistakenly call the flower ‘Michael’. What a silly man.”

Suddenly Michael darted towards you, tripping you over. You tried your best to not damage any of the plants around you, hands kept to your chest as the male got on top of you, pinning your head between his arms. Your head luckily didn't hit the stone floor, though his weight was a little uncomfortable. That's when you heard him scream, “Stop… acting like him..!”

“Hu-huh..?” The confusion was undeniable in your tone, and you tried to look at the man who was hovering over you. His hair blocked your sight, tickled your skin, and then wet droplets splashed onto your face. Were these... tears? Ah, probably from his- hold up, he was crying with both eyes. You gawked, surprised by his vulnerable emotional state. Guess angels were only neglected children after all. Gently, you brushed his hair to the side, seeing his eyes become watery and spilling hot tears.

Contrary to what you expected, he didn't deny your touch but instead leaned into it. His voice was quivering ever so little as he stated, “You knew from the start, didn’t you? So why.. why did you.. you and Raphael, you two..” his sobbing increased, blurring his sight with his tears. In the end, he stopped pinning you to the ground and straddled your lap.

With lingering doubts, you sat up, watching him wipe his tears with his now equally wet sleeves. You didn't know what came over you when you whispered subconsciously, “Beautiful.” It was what you thought at that moment, your most honest feelings. He stopped for a moment to look at you, then smiled bitterly, muttering, “You two are similar even in that regard..." Suddenly he hugged you, wrapping his arms around your neck and holding onto your back, clenching your clothes tightly.

Without missing a beat, he nuzzled into your neck, sobbing into your shoulder, all quietly, only the occasional hiccup could be heard slipping from his puffy lips. You knew all he needed was a shoulder to cry on, so you patted the back of his head, stroking through his soft locks, using your other hand to grab his waist. “It’s alright. And let me tell you something, I know Lucifer loves you just as dearly as you do." To your surprise he rubbed his wet cheek against yours, then turned to look at you, “…I guess you weren’t doing it on purpose?”

He had a meek smile on his face, an almost embarrassed expression. The tears didn’t stop flowing, though it seemed he calmed down a little. “I don’t know what you mean?” You retracted your hand from the back of his head and wiped his tears away. The angel stared at your fingers for a moment, then leaned even closer to you, uttering, “Lucifer Hyeong would have kissed them away.” For the next few seconds, you froze.

Why did he tell you that...? Was he hinting at you to do the same? Does that mean he thought you were similar to Lucifer?

“May I ask why you think so?” The question was a little out of pocket, but he knew what you tried to ask him. “You know what I... miss about Hyeong?" He looked down, clenching his teeth, muscles tensing before relaxing them again to finish his sentence, "Everything, I-I miss his laughter, his hugs, his soft strokes- And guess what you've been doing in front of me?” You went quiet at the last part, this time you knew exactly what he meant without further explanation.

Though you truly weren't doing it to spite him or with other ulterior motives, you were simply being yourself. The look you had was indescribable, it wasn’t quite pity, but more a cocktail of many emotions. “You…” he began once again, stopping to take a deep, shaky breath, to calm his erratic heart and stop the sobbing, before continuing, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I didn't mean to appear identical to-” you didn’t get the chance to end your speech when he interrupted you, “don’t you dare speak with my brother’s tone, while looking and acting like him.” At this point, you didn’t even know what to do, how could it be that everything you did reminded him of that person? Furthermore, you feared he was starting to have a twisted and possibly delusional image of you, to make you his substitute for Lucifer. You were sick of playing house after all that ordeal with the devils— especially Sitri.

All in all, no matter how similar their image of you and the person they meet in their dream is, you could never become the same. You were your own person, and not whatever others wanted you to be. The only thing you could think of doing was to somehow comfort him, this beautiful man who didn’t understand his own feelings, in a way his dearest older brother would never. So you hugged him, pulling him into a tight embrace, something he desperately wanted and needed.

The results were him crying even more frantically, weeping like a baby bird while he cried out, “I missed you so much, brother.” You didn't like his choice of words. After a while, you said silently, like a soft exhale of air that grazed his ears, “I’m not Lucifer.”

His grip on you tightened, but nothing else happened until you commented, "And I'm not your brother or Hyeong." The angel whined out, “Stop..” yet you didn’t, you followed your statement up with, “Not to mention I doubt Lucifer will ever come back to heaven.” Micheal looked like he was devastated, unable to accept the truth, he was basically begging you now as he yelled, “S-stop! I demand you to stop talking—” You shifted in your seat, now grabbing his wrists with one hand, “Michael, I think the reason he left is because it’s time for you to move on.”

He stayed completely still, arms now placed above his head, cheeks, and nose completely red while he wore this lost look in his eyes. “I’ll say it again, I’m not Lucifer. No matter how I act, I won’t be able to give you the same solace as he does.” Slowly, you guided his wrist to your lips, and bit down, leaving behind a red mark and a flustered Michael. He whimpered at the pain, taking his sweet time to snap back to reality as if he wanted to stay in his own fantasy world. “I can at most comfort you in other ways.” You then added, holding him closer with your free hand.

The boy didn’t struggle anymore, his pupils shook slightly, cheeks rosy as he hid it behind his wing. His face has been decorated with those pretty, shiny water droplets, some even dried off already. “W-what..?” Before he could prepare himself for what you had in store for him, you guided his body to move back and forth on your lap. He almost shrieked at the sudden movement, and then he stared at you with a baffled look.

If he had to describe it, it felt like he was riding a horse, but why were you doing this? Rubbing his metallic chastity belt against your skin, wasn't it uncomfortable? “Hold on to me.” You then said, and he became even more confused. Nonetheless, he obliged all obediently, grabbing your shoulders but taking care to not use too much strength.

This shift in behavior wasn’t because of you, he was still seeing you as that person, as him. With gritted teeth, you pulled down the zipper to his pants, and his cheeks flushed immediately. “Wait! What do you think you are doing?!!” He screamed, obviously not prepared for that bold move of yours. The boy was being so loud your eardrums almost exploded.

Judging by his reaction, you were achieving the effect you wanted, breaking down his idolized version of you, “I’m guessing Lucifer never taught you sex education~?” You joked and stared at his chastity belt. It’s the second one you’ve seen, the first one was Raphael’s. This one looked a little different in shape and color, it was golden, like most of the accessories of Michael. Despite it being a few weeks already, you still remembered clearly how you unlocked that device, which is why it didn’t take long until you freed the poor member of the male from its cage.

Michael stared down at you, unmoving, eyes widened while being as red as a tomato. When he heard the click of the lock, he felt his heart leap for a second. “No- no way.. you opened this? So easily?” He blushed and seemed slightly disgusted by the looks of his erection, which was leaking glowing precum down his shaft. This is also his first time seeing his dick, you almost forgot about the fact, that angels are basically all virgins. Gosh, how cute~

With one pull, you threw his chastity belt to the side, staring at his half-erect dick. “Yep. And- oh my? You are way bigger than your brother?” To be honest, you weren’t even sure if you were impressed or terrified. Michael hid his face with the back of his palm, thighs instinctively trying to squeeze close when a gust of wind blew against his now fully hard cock, though of course there weren't any results, considering he was straddling your thighs.

“No, d-don’t look..! No one should... expect god…” more tears swelled up in his eyes, he was also embarrassed at doing it outside, here so many people could catch you two. It would be blasphemy if anyone saw him in this state, he'd probably rip off his own wings and join his brother in hell if that happened! Knowing that you almost felt bad for him, for all these sexually frustrated and very much depraved creatures.

“Shh, don’t worry, I’ll just help you jack one off. You’ll feel much better afterward.” With that being said, you got to work. Fingers sinking into his smooth flesh, moving him around on your thigh, making him rub the underside of his most intimate parts against your clothes legs. It felt so rough against his perfect and soft skin, and on top of all of it, it felt so weird and so hot. He mewled, unable to fathom all these sensations, eyes searching for some guidance from you. Though you deliberately ignored him, gliding him across your thigh, trying to stimulate the male.

He began trashing around, resisting, pushing you away while crying out, "No! H-hyeong would never do something sinful like this..!! You stop these.. unholy and inappropriate acts!" You only laughed in response, asking teasingly, "But tell me, Michael, doesn't this feel good?" Completely treating his request like some passing breeze, feeling grateful that he was still capable of making his own judgment.

"I- no, I'm not answering you?! Are you trying to slander my brother?" He sounded just a tiny bit angry with you, trying hard to ignore the building arousal in his lower abdomen. "No, I never claimed to be him. Do you understand what I'm getting at, Michael?" His mouth hung open, as if he wanted to say something, yet not a single word escaped his throat. On the other hand, a series of moans and choked-out whimpers reached your ears. "Nghh... ahHh- I, s-still, sto- hnNghhh!"

Not good, he was being swept up by those hellish sentiments, by the temptations of the flesh. Why did it have to feel so hot, and be so brain-numbing? Poor birdy could barely think straight after all that edging on your part. You were way too perverted and too much of a tease to be his kind and gentle Hyeong!

"Y-y/n...! Please, I-I don't want this... it's scary, stop..!" At last, he resulted to pleading, unable to deal with the weight of his emotions clashing and fighting internally. It was the truth that he sought comfort by your hands and wanted you to fill the hole in his heart, but then you went ahead and turned the table at him. He didn't want to be touched by someone who wasn't god... and Lucifer. He also didn't want his first sexual encounter to be with you, or if it had to be done, out in the open in a place like this, where he'll defile all these pure and pretty flowers.

"Don't touch me..!" Even though he was so deadbeat on his mindset, he didn't try to push you away, was it out of consideration for the flowers or because he didn't dare hurt you after seeing Lucifer in you? No, hardly so, you could see right through his facade. He was probably thinking about how awful this situation was, but you knew he was lying to himself.

To prove your point, you stopped, leaning back and using your arms to support yourself off the ground, you apologized almost half-heartedly, "Alright, sorry then, I won't touch you. So, you do as you see fit. Climb off if that's what you truly want." Once again you surprised the angel with your actions, he didn't think you'd be so willing.

Only when you stopped pleasuring him he noticed that he actually missed the bubbly and warm feeling of your touch or that his erection was throbbing almost painfully so. He glanced down in disbelief, humiliation filling his senses. If he had to be blunt he had absolutely no idea how to react to this, so he did the only thing he could think of, doing whatever you did. Mind you his brain was already turned into mush due to all the tension from before.

Skeptically, he rolled his hips along your thighs, squeezing his lips shut in a poor attempt to stiffen his moans. At this rate, he was going to overstimulate himself since he didn't know what he was doing. Pride thrown out of the window while he bit back his shame, desperately grinding against you with that flushed look on his face. Small, muffled whines still seeped through his almost, almost water-tight defense. "Don't you dare... say anything... mhm!!"

He knew how hypocritical he was being, doing exactly what he apparently ‘hated’, that's why he didn't want to hear any mean comments from You. But his body moved on its own, he couldn't stop chasing after his own bliss. Why did it have to feel so good anyway? To drag his cock along your thigh, grinding his pre into your clothes... You watched the show unfold with attentive eyes, smirking as if you were saying, "Told ya". His grip on your shoulders got tighter, almost painful to bear.

Then he laid his forehead against the crook of your neck, body shivering tremendously while he groaned, "I-I... bloody hell... you did this to me." That angelic voice of his grazed your skin, hot and laced with need. "I don't know why I'm.. hngg, reacting l-like this..." He continued, egging you on, not getting to the point. "So, what are you getting at?" Again, you were aware of what he wanted from you, but you wanted to hear it from him personally.

“What I mean is- you... you take over!” Suddenly he leaned back to stare right into your eyes, he was still crying from both eyes. This time you were sure it wasn't due to his self-pity and sadness. You reached out for his cheek, cupping his face. His skin was hot, so much so that your hand felt ice cold against him. He leaned into your touch, lips squeezed into a pout, brows furrowed as he held his gaze low. "I thought you didn't like it?" You cooed, rubbing his tears away with your thumb.

Michael stayed quiet, he couldn't argue with that, he was the one that desperately pushed your touch away. That's why he just slumped back against you, mumbling, "P-please... I don't like— this heat either... make it go away..." Just to mess with him some more, you hummed, tilting your head to the side, "Hmm, I don't know, can't you do it yourself?" Now the angel was gritting his teeth, you wondered if you went too far. Much to your surprise, he pulled you into a deep, clumsy kiss.

The salty taste of his tears grazed your lips, his tongue messily stumbled into your mouth and he slurped and swindled it around aimlessly. You stayed still for a second, partly due to you getting startled, as well as you being in awe about how bad he was at kissing. Perhaps it was his first kiss, how cute, he's willingly gifting it to you. Since he has given you something so valuable, you had to show him a good time now, ain't that right?

Slowly, to not scare him, you moved your tongue as well, meeting his eager kiss with a smile on your lips. Closing your eyes to fully immerse yourself, only after seeing the embarrassed look on his blushy features. While he was distracted, you placed your graceful fingers around his slim waist again, giving him little instruction on what to do. Then, once he got into a rhythm, you moved your leg to meet his thrusts.

His heat and wetness already seeped through your pants, soaking your skin with his sticky substances. Yet you didn't bother, focusing solely on him and his pleasure. After a few sucks on your side, against his willing body, he started moaning into the kiss. Long, drawn-out moans that ended with a high-pitched whine for more, "ahhnnngh.. mhmm-uhm!!"

His hips suddenly jerked forwards, his poor cock was leaking and twitching helplessly, wagging around like some kind of tail. The neglect was impossible to overlook. May it be for his red, swollen tip that was decorated with glistening pearls of pre, or his bulging veins that looked like they were about to pop, it didn't matter. All he knew was he wanted more of this ecstatic, hypnotizing feeling that only you could provide.

Gradually, his movements became faster and more sloppy, your grip on him was so tight that his skin bruised. He choked, gagging on your tongue, throwing his head back to break the kiss. This was too much, too intense..! That poor birdy needs a break, or his brain will melt! Despite that, you grabbed him by his wing and forced him to stay still, lips crashing against his again. The feeling of your hand on his wing only intensified his pleasure, making him more erratic as electricity coursed through him.

You weren't done nor satisfied yet, hence you shoved your tongue down his throat again. "Mffhhmm!! ♡♡~! Y/n- I- nghhH..!!" This sensation, of something tingling inside him, threatened to burst at any rate. How was he supposed to hold himself back? All resistance fell on deaf ears and crumbled, and he felt himself being brought over the edge of bliss and sanity. For a moment that was supposed to be forbidden for him, or downright sinful, he felt strangely warm inside.

He hadn't felt this fuzzy and at ease for a long time, and so, he did what his instincts told him, he embraced the feeling. Tears poured from his eyes like little waterfalls, his face ruined to the point of being unrecognizable, and his wing flapping around in a pathetic attempt to balance out the pleasure. He grabbed a fistful of your clothes, almost digging holes into them as he relentlessly rode your thigh. He felt weak, so powerless like never.

His knees have been shaking for quite some time now. If it wasn't for your hands on his hips, he would have slumped forward and fallen into your embrace, that was how weak he was. More sweet whispers of pleasure slipped from his swollen lips, sending a tingle down your spine. "Hmmm... m' su-sumthin's cummin'..!♥︎♡!!" Michael tried to warn you, head so empty he couldn't form proper sentences. Not to mention you were still making out with him, rendering it almost impossible for him to speak coherently.

His dick twitched around a few times again, the tip was rather rubbing against your belly than your thighs, leaving behind strings of pre in its wake. Finally, after an eternity of tension and promised pleasures, he felt himself reaching his limit. The feeling was nothing he had ever experienced before, he couldn't even try to put it into words that was how mind-blowing it was. With one last meek try to warn you, which ended up sounding more like a high-pitched shriek of bliss and pure, primal ecstasy, he came all over the two of you.

“MhNMHHH~ aaAhHHnNNGGh♡♡♥︎♡♥︎～!!” Tridal waves of pleasure surged through his veins, making him shudder due to the intensity. His toes curled, wing flapping uncontrollably as thick ropes of white cum spurt out of his way too-overstimulated dick. It splattered across your clothes, and his as well. Judging by the amount of glowing fluids he shot out, he must have been pent up. Once again, you took the first orgasm ever of an angel, and it felt weirdly fun.

All this pleasure was too much for an inexperienced virgin angel like him~ his mind basically blanked out during his ejaculation, causing him to whimper and groan like some animal in heat, "Ah- uhm.? Nghh, uh-hnggh ♥︎♡♡!" He never knew there was pleasure like this, this amazing and tingly. It was just like the day he lost his eye.

You weren't even sure what he was trying to say, maybe nothing, maybe insults, whatever it was you didn't really care. Instead, you were fascinated by how different yet similar his reaction was to Raphael's. So it was true that angels were as bland as their buildings, with no real knowledge of what the pleasures of the flesh meant. You smiled, looking at his wrecked face. Still as red as ever, with dried-out tears stuck to his skin, and drool hanging out of his mouth, he has never looked more beautiful.

His wing has also calmed down, it was almost limping next to his head. Eyes still a little unfocused as he slowly regained his clarity, moving his hand to his face to rub his puffy eyes. That silky, untangled hair was a little messy more, and his clothes wrinkled. "That was a little too much stimulation for your first, huh?" You joked, and he didn't have the strength to give you a sassy answer, but he glared at you nonetheless. It was more of an I'm-too-tired-for-this glare than anything else though.

You didn't move from your spot, not wanting to rush him, giving him enough time to collect himself until he deemed himself ready to stand up from your lap. In the meantime, you noticed that the sad scent that radiated from him has dissipated, at least for now. Somehow, you felt really proud of yourself for that, smiling under your breath as you placed a kiss on his forehead.

Michael squeezed his eyes with a pout but didn't resist. His argument or defense for himself was that he was too worn out and tired, for now, and that he had enough opportunities to kill you in the future. It was nothing else but excuses, considering angels are just delusional beings at their core. As soon as he stood up on his wobbly legs, you wanted to ask how he was doing, that's when Raphael emerged from behind the doorframe.

His head peeked into the garden as he smirked darkly, mischievously even. "Pff, you look like a horny beast, Michael. Was it fun, screaming so loud I could hear your disgraceful moaning from miles away?" You stared at the blond angel with a skeptical look, he was acting as if he didn't act just the same. Then, he turned to you and said, "Anyway, y/n, you, come with me. I have something to show you." Now he stood in the doorframe with his entire figure, leaned against it.

You stood up from where you were previously sitting, and answered all carefree as you walked past him, "Okay ~ lemme get changed first." Raphael made way for you when you walked by and nodded in acknowledgment. Once you were gone, he made eye contact with his dear brother and had a slight scorn on his face. Michael frowned back at him, brushing off the dust from his clothes, even though there were bigger problems about his appearance than that. Like his disheveled hair, or the traces of shining cum on his shirt.

“What, don't like the fact they aren't only yours?” After a quick glaring contest, Michael spoke up, a sneer present in his voice. He got closer to Raphael, now standing right in front of him, crossing his arms around his chest. Though it seemed he had recovered very quickly, his legs and knees were still a little uneasy. "...I can't say I'm pleased with it, but they are free to do as they wish." The Blondie said, averting his gaze for a split second.

“How unusual of you, sharing was never your strong point.” The black-haired seraphim commented. A snarky laugh erupted from the red angel, and he scoffed, "You are one to talk." Afterward, he turned around, waving his hand as if to say goodbye, "It's a shame that I'm not the only angel who has experienced god's given pleasure now, but oh well, I'm still their first, remember it well." With that, Raphael disappeared into the building, leaving Michael standing at the entrance to the garden, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth.

Tags: @shianarou @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @aghrentroplayer @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

I found many different translations for the meaning of the mentioned flowers, but these are the ones that I liked best.

Lily of the valley: purity, happiness, nostalgia, sadness, pain, death

According to the bible, lily of the valley is most infamously mentioned in the Song of Solomon (2:11). It’s also sometimes used as a metaphor or comparison to Jesus Christ, due to its sweet scent and white colour (Ephesians 5:2). White, which is knows to be a sin-free colour, used to describe a person without sin -> Michael still sees luci as a person without sin

There’s also a saying that lilies are the tallest of flowers, but hangs its head down, symbolising humbleness (Philippians 2:6~8). Also it’s supposed to have a lot of medical qualities, so it fits lucifer, who’s a healer.

Gardenia: purity, harmony, sweetness, joy, secret love

Here, it’s also qualities and things lucifer wishes for Michael. Like harmony, joy. Then, how he sees him and thinks about him. I thought it’d be cute haha

I choose them very carefully, there was quite a lot of thought behind them, that’s why it got its own special mention here :]

[hornydilfsinyourarea]

"𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙆 𝙄 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝙊𝙇𝘿𝙀𝙍"

Pairing: Michael Gavey x Professor! Male! Reader

Warning: NSFW topics! college student x college professor, age gap (reader is older then Michael), Submissive! Bottom! Michael, slight public setting (classroom sex and office sex), daddy kink, this is bad😭

"𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝘼 𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝘽𝙄𝙏 𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘿𝙀𝙍, 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙒𝙀𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 𝙊𝙁𝙁 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙇𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙎, 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙆 𝙄 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝙊𝙇𝘿𝙀𝙍"

You've been a professor at Oxford for a while now, a few years, but there was one student that stood out the most, Michael Gavey, a smart person he was, and the one who would pass your classes with flying colors, you would often see him study quite hard for your classes, he was probably the only one who does it, he was really dedicated to your class... you never knew why... that is till one day Michael visited your office, saying he had a "problem", you could feel that there was something off about him, they way he was staring at you... the way his thighs rubbed together as he sat in the chair in front of your desk, the way his face would turn red as you hold eye contact with him

You could see Michael getting impatient, that confused you, you were telling him what he wanted to hear, answering his questions correctly, why was he getting impatient? That is till you saw him furrow his brows at you, standing up from the chair and walking over to yours, pushing you a bit away from your desk before planting himself on your lap, before you could say a word, he shut you up with smashing his lips against yours, you couldn't lie with yourself... Michael was an attractive man... even if he was your student, so you hesitantly kissed back, your hands holding his waist, after a while of kissing Michael pulled away "I want you to fuck me... please" He whispered, you gulped, before expressing your concerns, saying that the both of you should probably not do this, and probably not in your office, Michael frown "Please, I finger myself thinking about you, I fucking stroke my own cock thinking about you, just... fuck me... don't you want me... daddy?~" Michael murmured, he could see you pause when he called you daddy, you never knew being called something like that would sound so... hot...

The next thing you know is Michael being bent over your desk, his pants by his knees as your cock roughly bullies his hole, your hand covering his mouth as you fucked him from behind, Michael's eyes would roll back almost each time your cock hit his most sensitive spot inside of him, his hands gripping at the table to steady himself from the rough pounding. It felt so good inside of him, you could barely control yourself, but it did seem like Michael was enjoying himself, quite a lot... it wasn't long before you felt his walls clench down on your cock tightly, hearing Michael let out a long loud moan against your hand, his eyes rolling back into his head, the feeling of his hole clenching down onto your cock made you cum almost instantly, pushing your cock to the hilt inside of him as you climax, filling him up, after a bit, you removed your hand from his mouth, you could hear him let out a chuckle "See...? Wasn't that just... fun?~" He asked as he looked over his shoulder and at you, a sly smile on his face as he pushed his glasses higher up his nose

"𝘽𝘼𝘽𝙔, 𝘼𝙈 𝙄 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝙎𝙀𝘾𝙍𝙀𝙏? 𝙄𝙈 𝙊𝙇𝘿 𝙀𝙉𝙊𝙐𝙂𝙃 𝙏𝙊 𝙆𝙀𝙀𝙋 𝙄𝙏"

You were busy grading tests by your desk in the classroom, pretty ordinary on the outside... oh but it wasn't... After you got done grading the last test, you leaned back into your chair... letting out a groan before pushing Michael's head down, making him take your cock deeper into his mouth, your cock hitting the back of his throat, making him gag slightly, his tongue running up the underside of your length, making sure to trace each vein on it, after your hand leaves his head, he pulled back up, your cock leaving his mouth before his lips wrapped around the tip of your cock, sucking gently on it as his hands strokes you off, he smiled at the way you groaned, he could see you were trying not too, you weren't trying to get people to actually walk into the classroom and see the both of you like this. You could feel Michael's tongue tease the tip of your cock as he sucked on it, before you felt his hand leave your cock, his mouth taking your cock deeper into it, almost deepthroating you, Michael began to Bob his head up and down, the sound of his sucking and gagging echoing in the empty classroom

He could feel your cock throbbing in his mouth, it made him suck you off faster, eager to taste you, he leaned down more, taking your cock to the hilt, gagging and moaning around it, sending pleasure through your body, when he felt your cock throb, he quickly pulled away, stroking your cock in a fast pace before smiling when he felt your hot cum squirt onto his face, opening his mouth to catch some of it into his mouth, when you came down from your high, "You got cum on my glasses.." He said, a fake frown on his face, making you chuckle, before taking his glasses of his face, cleaning it yourself before putting it on his face again, he smiled "Thank you daddy~" He murmured, giving the head of your cock a kiss.

"𝙄 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙄𝙈 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙉 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝘽𝙐𝙏 𝙄'𝙑𝙀 𝘼𝙇𝙒𝘼𝙔𝙎 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝘼 𝙈𝘼𝙉 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙍, 𝘼𝙂𝙀 𝙄𝙎 𝘼 𝙉𝙐𝙈𝘽𝙀𝙍, 𝙈𝙔 𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍, 𝙄 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙔𝙊𝙐'𝙇𝙇 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙉𝘿"

I do not consent to my content being stolen, copied or reposted on other platforms, if you want to use these or inspired by this, CREDIT me and ASK me, please and thank you

[pastelclovds]

can u do ABO au with slashers going through their heat and asking the reader coughbeggingcough for help?

cw: this was longer than expected, dom!top!gn!alpha!reader, sub!bottom!omega!michael myers, knotting, heats, praise kink, condom use, michael is implied to be a virgin, male omegas have pussies and dicks, all alphas have dicks. word count: 1.3 k

michael had experienced many things in his life, but one thing he never experienced, were his heats. because he was in the mental institution, michael was given suppressants by the doctors all his life up until he escaped and started his rampage.

but five days after his escape, he began feeling hot and sweaty, his vision was blurry, and his pussy was leaking slick like crazy. michael didn’t know what was happening to him, and for the first time in his life, he was confused and scared. it soon got worse to the point where michael couldn’t even walk and hid himself in an alley. that’s when he meet you. you were an alpha that was throwing out the trash behind your house, when you caught the scent of an omega in heat.

you were obviously worried for the poor soul, so you followed the scent, and there you found the infamous bogeyman. michael gripped onto his knife with a shaky hold and tried to attack you, but his movements were slow and you quickly slapped the knife out of his hands. michael let out a threatening growl and pounced on top of you, the air was pushed out of your lungs as michael’s hands were put beside your head and made you stay down. “h-hey, i just want to help you. an omega shouldn’t be out in public during their heat, you’re in pain, aren’t you?” you asked, trying to keep a calm voice and pumping out comforting pheromones.

michael let out deep pants of air, you could tell he was holding onto his last bit of strength by the way his body was shaking. michael unexpectedly whines when he unknowingly rubs his clothed hard-on against your thigh. you gently put your hand on his plastic cheek, you ask, “has this ever happened to you?” michael shakes his head no, you know enough about this guy to know that he was dangerous, but you couldn’t just leave him here to suffer through his first heat.

“let me help you, please,” you pleaded, michael thought long and hard, and eventually agreed. you led him inside your house, up to your bedroom, and quickly got to business. before you could even remove your boxers, michael pushed you onto your bed, dry humping you like a feral beast. you pulled michael in for a kiss against his covered lips as you zipped him out of his jumpsuit so that he was just in his underwear. as michael fought with your mouth for dominance, you flip the both of you over so that michael’s back was on the mattress.

you reach for your nightstand and take out lube and a condom pack from the drawer. michael’s breath hitches as he watches you pull your cock out and slide the condom on. you smile down at the bogeyman and went to kiss so dangerously close to his abdomen up to his large chest. “you have such a beautiful body, michael. your abs, arms, and thighs are strong,” you pull michael’s underwear down, and place your hands between his thick thighs to pull them apart and reveal his wet entrance. “oh what i would give to have my head between these things, and have you ride my face. perhaps we could do it next time, if you want to,” michael’s dick twitched in interest as more slick spilled from his cunt. he liked praise, noted.

you didn’t want to tease him too much because once again, he was in heat, and you were slightly scared of what he would do if you kept him waiting any longer. you wanted to make his first heat as pleasurable as possible.

you slipped in a finger, his walls took you in with ease. michael moaned when you began to work your finger inside him, he’d never had something that big inside him before. you were putting his comfort above your own pleasure, precum gathered at the tip of michael’s cock. he let out another loud whine when you put another finger inside him, he moved to cover his mouth. there was so much slick that you didn’t think he even needed lube, michael thrusted against your fingers, desperately looking for the relief he needed. deciding he was loose enough, you pulled your fingers out of his pussy (he glared at you through his mask for doing so), grabbed the lube, and poured it over your slick covered hand to bathe your cock in.

you held out your hand for michael, “let me know if you feel uncomfortable, okay?” michael was taken aback by your gentleness, but nodded and took your hand in his. you wrapped his legs around your waist, lined your cock up to his dripping pussy, and slowly pushed inside, thankfully he was wet and loose enough so you bottom out with ease. michael squeezed your hand as he breathed heavily, his walls were so warm, you resisted the urge to just plow him then and there.

it wasn’t until he was grinding his hips that he silently told you to fuck him. you set a deep but slow pace, michael let out guttural groans when the fat heat of your cock hit his sweet spot. slaps of skin against skin filled your ears, along with you and michael’s mixed moans made your hips speed up. michael gasped when you grabbed his legs and pushed them against his chest, the new angle made you thrust deeper into him. “you feel- oh, so good for me, mikey. gonna make me cum soon,” michael moans breathlessly in your ear as his hands grip desperately on your back.

the bed slammed against your wall in sync with your pace, the smell of heat and sex filled the room, and if there was anyone in your house, they would be able to hear you two fucking like animals. michael could feel his walls tighten around you before slick and cum dirty your thighs and chest. he holds you as tight as he can, overstimulation overcoming him as you relentlessly use him to chase your end. your knot starts to expand, making it harder to thrust until you finally bottom out and fill the condom with hot cum.

michael and yourself were cover in a thin layer of sweat as you both let your orgasms wash over you. it took awhile until your knot lessened enough to pull out, “you were so good for me michael, relax while i get us some water and napkins,” michael watched as you threw away the used condom and left the room, he felt so much better than earlier, albeit sweaty, but still good. you came back with two glasses of water and a tissue box and sat beside michael. you made a move to take off his mask, but he took your wrist in a death grin and let out a warning grown.

“sorry baby, but you need to drink something,” michael was silent, you sighed and put the glass on top of the nightstand beside the bed. “after i’m done cleaning you up, i’m going to sleep, you can drink then. i don’t want you having a sore throat.” you rip a few tissue out of the box and begins cleaning michael and yourself. michael was watching you like a hawk the entire time, your face, your neck that didn’t have a mating mark (yet), and your cock. once you’re done, you wrap your bedsheets around michael and yourself. you smile at michael before kissing his masked cheek and resting your head on a pillow facing him, “goodnight, michael.” he watches as you drift off to sleep and you begin drooling on the pillow case. you looked so peaceful when you sleep.

the morning came, and michael was was not beside you. you were fully expecting him to kill you in your sleep, but thankfully he didn’t. you thought that would be the last and only time you’ll ever see the bogeyman. oh how wrong you were. you weren’t upset though, in fact, you were gleeful.