#michael hoard x reader

[kassy-munson]

we need some new michael fics on here… just saying 🫣

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober 8: Feeding/Stuffing + Cuckolding

Michael (Hoard) x Married!Milf!Older!Reader

Summary: Michael sure does love your cookies (derogatory).

Warnings: age gap (Michael 20s, Reader mid 30s), unhealthy food consumption, face stuffing kink, cheating/swinging/cuckolding, food sexual innuendos/puns

It’s odd. You specifically remember mothering two growing boys. But you’ve counted two growing boys and one fully grown man…

Michael lives next door at the Michelle residence, his foster mother’s home, along with his pregnant girlfriend. You’d think he’d stay clear of you, the ‘MILF with the Pink Flamingos’. Yet, he’s been in your kitchen several times anticipating your delicious baked goods.

He’s always responded well to your cooking. In fact, you remember the first time you and your husband had moved into the neighborhood, introducing yourselves to the neighbors when you’d approached Michael’s door with a platter of lemon cakes. He immediately gave you ‘the eye’ as he’d taken a bite of the confectionery, highly praising you and going for seconds—thirds. From the way he openly flirted with you, you assumed he knew exactly what you and your husband were into until you’d met his proper girlfriend who clearly isn’t one to fool around.

Still every evening, Michael would come over to your home, flirting and scarfing down whatever you gave him. A quiet sick part of you enjoyed seeing the way his belly would protrude after a satisfying home-cooked meal. You especially love it when he’d curl up against you on the couch —after hours when your husband and the kiddos are in bed—making you rub his tummy and soothe his hair.

Today is no different. There you are rubbing his belly on the couch and playing in his hair when he looks up at your lap.

“The meaning of those pink flamingos out there…do they have anything to do with why there are so many couples in the neighborhood competing for you and your partner’s attention?” Michael questions.

“Why yes,” You giggle, moving a strands of hair away from his forehead. “We’re swingers.”

“That explains why your husband doesn’t seem to mind my presence.” He says, snuggling more up against you.

“Oh, he does mind it,” You admit. “We only swing with open couples. You and your lover aren’t exactly open, are you? Anything happening between us would be considered cheating.”

“The wicked smile on your face tells me, you aren’t entirely against it.” Michael smirks, breath hitching when you dip your finger in his bellybutton before soothing over his happy trail.

“I’m a mother and a housewife, Michael. I don’t wreck homes, I remodel them,” You quip, tugging his hair as a gesture for him to rise up from your lap. He stares at you with both confusion and hurt as if feeling rejected. “My husband’s standing on a stair-step just out of view from our eyes but enough to where he can watch us. He doesn’t trust that you wouldn’t try anything with me despite the many nights you’ve rested in my lap.”

“Is he looking for a show?” Michael says, gripping the fat of your thighs.

“Maybe,” You answer. “Or maybe he’s just making sure you aren’t eating my cookies. He especially loves those and you didn’t leave not a crumble for him last time.”

You pick up a small cake from your tray, raising it up to his lips. “You can have as much cake as you want though.”

Michael smiles, widening his mouth to accept the sweet treat. You cram it in messily, your fingers coated with icing and cake fluff. He swirls his tongue around your fingers, sucking in earnest while maintaining eye contact with you.

When he’s done licking your fingers clean, he sighs happily. “Luckily for him, I’m big on cake-eating.”

[jenniquinn]

Fuck I love this so much.

Food Fight Fun

Happy Hoard Trailer Premiere Day!

I was inspired by this certain part of the trailer where Michael and Maria are having a food fight and just the way he’s towering over her like that gave me naughty thoughts! 😛

Micahel(Hoard) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: food fetish, p in v, food fight, nipple sucking, oral sex, language.

It was a pretty uneventful Thursday night. Nothing really good on telly or funds for a shopping spree. Michael stopped by to relieve your boredom and get a free meal out of you.

You decided on a simple taco night since you really didn’t have anything else to make, payday was tomorrow. Michael grabbed the ground beef and started frying it in the pan as you fetched the condiments and plates.

While cooking, Michael talked your ear off like usual about work, his favourite team, and the stupid shit his mates did. You didn’t care so much and every now and then let out an “uh huh.”

You both sat at the table and munched away. Michael asked why you were so quiet, “I’ve just got nothing interesting to say…besides you were going on and on and I couldn’t get a word in edge wise.”

Michael looked at you in shock, “Well, excuse me for having an interesting life unlike you ya hermit.”

“I am not a hermit! I just choose not to interact with the crazies out there for longer than I care to.”

“I’m out there everyday…am I one of the crazies?”

“Yah…maybe you are and I shouldn’t let you in my house eating up all me food!”

You looked down at your plate, the corner of your eye you can see Michael smirk.

“If you don’t like me eating up all your food…then you can have it back!”

With the end of that sentence, Michael flung his half eaten taco right at your face! It took you a while to process what just happened and then you responded, “What the actual fuck you crazy bastard?”

Michael started laughing. You stood up and walked towards him. “Oh that’s funny, huh? Laugh at this, you twat.” You took your taco and slammed it on top of his head, smearing it all over his hair and face. He started to go after you as you went into the kitchen for more “fire power.”

You started throwing eggs at him that pretty much landed on the floor since he was so good at dodging them. He went to the sink and grabbed the hose spraying you all over. You had the peanut butter in hand, grabbed a huge hand full and smeared it all over his face. While he was blind from peanut butter, you were able to get the hose and started pouring water down his pants.

“Oh fuckin’ hell! That’s cold! Stop!”

He then grabs you, picks you up, and lays you on the dining room table. He towers over you as you’re both out of breath. You take your finger and wipe the peanut butter off his face and stick it in your mouth with a gentle “mmm”.

“Do you want a taste?”

“Sure, love.”

You swipe another bit off his face and are about to put it in his mouth, when you get a wicked idea. Lifting up your shirt, you smear your finger over your stomach. Michael takes his long, thick tongue and glides it over your torso.

“That was good. Perhaps we need more peanut butter and other tasty treats.”

You remain on the table as Michael walks back to the kitchen to retrieve the peanut butter but also the whipped cream, ice cream, and chocolate syrup. He makes it back to the table, ripping off both of your soaked and food stained clothes.

You look over at the items with confusion, “ I understand everything else…but what’s with the ice cream?”

“I decided to make you into a delicious little sundae.”

Michael smeared the peanut butter on both sides of your neck licking so slowly. His hot breath on your lobes. He poured the chocolate syrup over your breasts and your belly as he wiped it all over you like a sensual massage. He took a spoonful of the ice cream and placed it carefully on both your nipples. The instant coldness made them perfectly hard as Michael lowered his mouth to them. His lips sucked them with force as his tongue waggled around.

He proceeded his waggling down to your belly button stopping right before your needy pussy. He grabbed the can of whipped cream, spraying it all over you. You stared down at that gorgeous face, biting your lip. He dove right in as if he couldn’t wait a second longer. The whipped cream was all over him as he eagerly gobbled up every inch of you.

Your moans grew louder, you grabbed your breasts and wiped the chocolate on your face. Michael started to pick up the pace as he clasped his hands with yours. Your body started to shake as your release mixed with whipped cream covered his face.

You sat up, grabbed the syrup, and dropped to your knees. You wanted a taste of the sundae as well. Michael leaned back against the table as you covered his hard cock in chocolate. You took him in your mouth, all the way to the back of your throat. He let out a loud moan as he grabbed your hair.

“Oh fuck! Yes! Suck my cock, baby. Mmmm…fuck…your mouth feels so good. Such a dirty girl.” He tasted so good, so sweet, you never wanted to stop. You squeezed his thick thighs as he fucked your mouth. His cum ran down your throat as you swallowed every drop.

He fell down to the floor then laid on his back. He lifted you on top of him, guiding his cock into your pussy. You were still so sensitive and him filling you up felt incredible. He might be an immature little shit but damn he knew how to fuck you silly. You rocked back and forth gaining momentum with each thrust. You grabbed the closest item on the table-the whipped cream-and went to town all over his large chest. You ran your tongue all over it before collapsing on top of him.

Holding him tightly, you could feel the topping rubbing against the two of you. He sat up, reached for the syrup, and you grabbed it out of his hand. You poured it in his hair and down his back. Your fingers massaged it into his curls.

Michael grabs you closer as you lay your head on his shoulder. You can see the syrup running down his back all the way to his perfect peach bottom. Damn, the boy had a great ass.

“Are you going to cum with me, baby?” He asks still holding you tight.

“Yes, I’m so close. Oh fuck yes keep going!”

You grasp his hair pulling back his head as he fills you full of his hot cum. Falling to the ground, you both lay on your backs catching your breath.

“Looks like we made quite the mess, yah?”

“Sure as shit we did…I’m not cleaning it up though.”

“What? Why not? I’m the guest…I shouldn’t have to clean up!”

“You fired the first shot, big boy. This is your mess!”

You start to get to and walk towards the bathroom. Michael proceeds to ask where you are going.

“I’m filthy…I’m going to take a shower. Now, if you quit your bitching and clean up fast…perhaps you can join me.”

[justmeinadaze]

Hey could you write a fic with a chubby plus size reader with Gator Tillman and Michael (Hoard) plzzzz

As you wish... 😘

Push & Pull (GatorXMichaelX Plus Size Y/N)

Warning: Plus size Fem Y/N, Sub/Dom dynamics, degrading (whore, slut), bondage (handcuffs), praise, light spanking, dirty talk, jealous, possessive (kinda toxic) boys, aftercare with a fluffy ending (I guess lol)

Word Count: 1710

Your wide lust filled eyes shifted between both their angry frames as Gator and Michael towered over you while you remained bound with your hands behind your back on your knees.

You had known both men for years but you wouldn’t exactly call them friends which was part of the reason you agreed to this causal relationship the three of you found yourselves in occasionally. 

One drunk night, flirty glances, and a few orgasms in the back of Gator’s cruiser led to an understanding that you were semi friends with all the benefits. 

You three barely even spoke when you met up but you picked up little tidbits from the dirty talk during. In your small town, the officer loved having the power to wield his badge wherever he wished but within his own home however struggled with any kind of control. When he fucked you, he always had you pinned in some way. Whether it be holding your thick wrists above your head or positioning you on your stomach so he could lay his muscular, lean frame on top of your curvy, plump figure as he roughly pounded his hips into yours. 

“You like that don’t you, little slut. You don’t touch me. I control you. You cum because I allow it. I could fill you up and leave you a needy mess. Fuck, baby. So fucking pathetic aren’t you?”

Michael was slightly the opposite in the sense that he could still be forceful and rough but it leaned more towards passionate than anything else. His thick gorgeous hands would constantly roam your body until he was close to his release, clinging to you as if you would disappear. 

“Mmph—fuck. That’s it, love. So fucking beautiful… I’m gonna fill this pussy cause I know she needs it, yeah. Have me leaking out of you as you struggle to walk…feelin’ me for weeks…”

You love it; loved the push and pull of your dynamic with them. Anytime they needed you, you were there whether it be in the middle of a workday or 2 am, you opened yourself willing for them and thanked them for the pleasure. 

There were no rules on seeing other people. Hell, you saw them with women all the time and said nothing. So, when Gator yanked you out of your dates car after pulling him over, you were completely taken off guard. Even more so when he handcuffed you and brought you to Michael’s house instead of the police station. 

As soon as he dragged you in, he tossed you onto the floor where you found yourself now. 

“What were they doing when you found ‘em?”

“Driving. As soon as they left her house, I pulled them over. You think I’d let him get very far with her in the car?”

“Wh-what’s going on?”

“Wh-wh-what’s going on?”, Gator mocked. “Why didn’t you say you were going on a fucking date? Didn’t think we’d catch you?”

“No? I didn’t think about it. We didn’t set that rule—”

The officer roughly took hold of your bicep and tugged you to your feet before shoving you against the wall where both men crowded your space. 

“Look at the little whore here. Really went all out with the tight fucking dress that shows off her tits.”

“And the overwhelmin’ smell of perfume.”, Michael added as his nose pressed to your neck. “Or is that your cunt I’m smellin’?”

Pushing open your legs, his hands roughly slipped under the damp silk of your panties and his eyes widen playfully as he glided his fingers between your folds. 

“Oh yeah. Little girl is so wet.”

Gator’s own fingers took hold of your cheeks, tilting your head to face him. 

“Is that because of us or that pathetic boy who picked you up tonight?”

“You.”

A firm palm slapped your face makes Michael chuckle as he crumbled the bottom of your dress to lift it higher up your curvy frame as his thick digits pressed into your tight entrance. 

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Y/N.”

“I’m not. I p-promise��fuck—I’m not.”

“Then why the fuck were you with that asshole?!” When you took too long to answer, he smacked you again and his friend smirked as he felt your pussy clench at the action. “Answer me!”

“He asked!”

“Oh? Is that all it fucking takes, you little whore.”, Gator growled as he gripped your hair and walked you to his bed where he threw you on to your back. 

Michael climbed onto the mattress above you and yanked off your dress while the officer ripped apart your panties leaving you exposed for both men. 

“You want to act like a little slut, baby, then we can treat you like a fucking slut.” After tossing his vest and gear to the side, you listened as Gator messed with his belt buckle and shimmied his pants to his ankles before grabbing your chunky thighs in his massive hands to pull you closer to him. 

The obscene sound of him spitting into your cunt fills the room and you moan loudly as he aggressively guides his cock inside of you setting a brutal pace.

“Open.”, Michael commands as he taps your lips with his own dick and you oblige as the salty taste of his precum hits your tongue.

“Fuck—look at her. That’s right…take our cocks like a…good…little…whore!”, Gator growled, slamming his length deep inside you between every word causing your eyes to roll as the other boy does little thrusts of his own as he slides effortlessly along your flat tongue. “Do y-you think he can take care of you as well as we have?!”

When you try to shake your head, Michael’s fingers cling to your hair as both boy’s seem to match frequency, pumping into you at the same time causing you to clench and choke over them both. 

“Good—good girl.”

“You’re ours. Do you understand?” The time between the other man pulling out and Gator’s patience is short as he grips your chubby cheeks roughly between his fingers as his hips roughly pound into yours. “I said do you understand?! When I ask you something you fucking answer, little girl.”

“Y-Yes, Sir. I-I understand…oh—”

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare cum yet. We’re in charge of you and we decide when you get to cum.”

“Please…”, you whimper, feeling his stern eyes scan over your face as you struggle to control the need to let go. “I’m sorry.”

“Cum, baby. Squeeze my fucking cock when you do.”, the officer whispers as his upper half falls flat on top of you.

You do as he asks, now with permission, and your body trembles underneath him as you come undone. Palms splayed out above your head, he rolls his hips till you feel them sputter and his spend warm your insides. 

You wait patiently for it…the pull that follows the push. 

After Gator tenderly kisses your cheek, he moves out of the way to allow Michael to maneuver you however he wished. Once you both were further up the mattress, he clung to your back and spun you around till you were on top of him, straddling his waist. 

Lifting your body up with your knees, he held his shaft for you as you gradually sunk down onto his length. 

“Mmph, fuck.”, Michael groans as he balances his palms on your hips to help guide you as you steadily begin to bounce. “Fuck, you feel so good, babe. Why would you even want someone else?”

“I-I-I don’t.”

A palm spanked your behind making you wince and on impulse, you picked up your pace. 

“Liar.”, Gator scolds.

Emphatically, you shake your head as you feel the coil begin to wind once more within your belly. 

“You never—mmph—never…”

“Never what, love. Tell us.”

“You never…t-truly m-make me…yours.”

Falling into the nook between his neck and shoulder, you inhaled the man’s cologne and cigarette smell as his hold on your waist tightened and he thrust up into you as you groan in his ear. 

Michael overwhelmed your senses as he pumped his cock firmly inside you at a rigorous pace.

“P-Please, baby, fuck.”

“Yeah? Cum for me, sweetheart.” Holding you tightly to his chest, a string of ahs leave your lips as the coil snaps and your pussy quivers around him. “Fuck, pretty girl. That’s it.”

Continuing to whisper small praises, his grunts of pleasure soon follow as his release spills inside of you. 

As soon as you feel the metal fall away from your wrists, you shakily push up onto your knees as Michael adjusts himself to a sitting position. 

“Jesus, Gator. I fuckin’ told ya we need to stop using your deputy issued cuffs.”, he huffs in annoyance as he takes hold of your wrist and displays the little indents in your skin. 

“She’s fine.”, he replies lightheartedly as he takes your hand and guides you to the shower. 

Once you’re clean and in one of Michael’s large tank tops, Gator places you between them before quickly checking his phone to make sure no one on the force had called or needed him. 

“I see you with girls to.”, you blurt causing them both to glance your way. “I assumed it would be ok to go out on a date because…you’re also seeing other people.”

The officer blinks as he sighs, placing one of his arms behind his head.

“My dad schedules dates for me. ‘Suitable women to start a family with’ he says.”, the man growls as he rolls his eyes. “I fucking hate it. They are so goddamn boring.”

“Same, kinda. Michelle thinks I need ta settle down.”, Michael adds as he turns to face you. 

“Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“Why didn’t you?”, the man countered making you smile. “We’re allowed to be shy, love, but…we do like you.”

“A lot.”, Gator confirms. “We weren’t sure you would want to even be seen with assholes like us.”

“Speak for yourself, mate.”

You giggle at their banter as both men smile at the sound. Scooting towards the officer, you rest your head on his chest as you tug Michael’s arm around your waist. 

“I don’t mind being seen with asshole’s like you.”

##########

Gator Masterlist/Buy me a Ko-fi! ☕

This is my first Michael story so I dont have a masterlist for him :P

[wheels-of-despair]

Can't Help Falling In Love Pairing: Michael (Hoard) x You Summary: You hit it off with someone else's date at a wedding. Contains: Instant attraction, horny thoughts, Elvis covers, ditched dates, and the beginning of a happily ever after. Words: 3.5k

Youths and ageless blogs, Do Not Interact. Writer WILL block you.

"Oh god, she's actually brought the bin man."

"Hm?" you hum, forcing your eyes to slide back into focus.

Charlie, your boyfriend of 3 months, has dragged you to a cousin's wedding. You're seated at a gaudy table in a venue that's probably bankrupted the bride's parents. You're bored, you're sick of smiling politely each time you're introduced to someone who won't even pretend they're attempting to learn your name, and you're seriously considering just walking out and catching a cab and blocking this guy's number. Why are you even here?

"My cousin Chloe," he says under his breath. "She's dating a dustbin man. Mum didn't think she'd be brave enough to actually bring him. But she's such a horrific bitch, perhaps the bin man is the only one who can stomach her. This should be fun. Hello, my darling cousin!" He stands and embraces her. Her date stands awkwardly at her side in an ill-fitting suit, looking almost as happy to be here as you are.

Polite introductions are made, and the couple joins you at your table.

"So Michael, what do you do for work?" Charlie asks. So much for subtlety. Chloe glares. Michael shifts uncomfortably.

"I'm a b--"

"He's a businessman," she cuts him off. Her date stares at the tacky centerpiece.

"Oh? What kind of business?" You wonder if your heel has the power to penetrate Charlie's fancy dress shoes and draw blood.

"Erm…" Michael bites his lip.

"Finance," she answers for him, giving her cousin a chilling glare before turning her icy eyes to you. "And you, dearie? What sort of business are you in?"

You hate these fucking people.

Before you can answer, someone makes a noisy entrance that draws everyone's attention.

"Oh, Aunt Margie's here, let's go say hi!" Chloe exclaims. She and Charlie get up and scurry away toward an old lady, leaving you and Michael at the table alone. After an awkward smile and a moment of silence, you have to break it.

"Been together long?" you ask.

"A few months," he mutters. "You?"

"Same," you answer.

Silence.

"Glad we weren't the last to arrive," Michael says. Good, he's feeling this silence too.

"I was worried about us being late too," you smile. "What's your excuse?"

"She couldn't decide which shoes to wear."

"That's probably a more socially acceptable reason than mine," you laugh. "Couldn't get my door to close."

Michael's brow furrows.

"It sticks sometimes, but today, it just would not close," you explain. "Charlie yanked and yanked and finally got it to shut. If I can't get back in, I'm gonna kick his ass."

"He hasn't tried to fix it for you?"

"Does he look like the rugged handy-man type to you?"

You and Michael both look toward your dates, who are giggling in a crowd of their finely dressed relatives in an attempt to secure their surely sizeable inheritance, then back to each other to share a smirk. He belongs here about as much as you do.

"Any idea what's causing it?" he asks.

"No," you answer. "I keep meaning to look closer, but every time I'm headed out, I'm usually in a hurry. And it works fine when I come home, so I say I'll do it tomorrow… and then forget about it until it sticks again."

"A vicious cycle," he smiles, warm and teasing. You laugh, feeling more relaxed now than you have all night. "I'd start by making sure the hinges and the strike plate are tight. Do you have a screwdriver?"

"The fuck do you know about home repair?" Chloe spits from behind him. The smile on his face fades, and his eyes drift down to the table. It's like she pressed a button and shut him down.

The cousins sit back down and talk loudly about their crazy aunt, but their words don't register. You can't take your eyes off of Michael. The look on his face makes your heart ache. How do you fix it?

"That's a really good idea, about the hinges and the strike plate," you tell him quietly. He looks up at you slowly, caution shining in his big brown eyes. "I'll check those out as soon as I get home. Thank you."

He gives you a tiny smile. You want to crush him in a hug.

Wait, what?

"What are you talking about?" Charlie asks.

"My door," you answer shortly, finally breaking eye contact with Michael to survey the room full of people you don't know.

"And Michael the businessman knows how to fix it?" Charlie asks smugly. Michael's face flushes red, his eyes downcast once again. Chloe glares at her cousin.

"He had a helpful suggestion, which is more than I can say for Mr. I Don't Know, Call A Professional," you quip.

That shuts him up.

"Would every one take their seats, please, so the ceremony can begin!" someone yells from the other side of the room.

Everyone returns to their seats and quiets down, and the ceremony begins. A song plays on an organ, a bride is walked down an aisle in the distance, old ladies dab at their eyes… probably. Your attention is on the bead of sweat rolling down Michael's thick neck.

What if you just leaned over and licked it away?

He looks over at you, as if he knows what you're thinking, and smiles. Now it's your turn to blush. You force your eyes in whatever direction you imagine the vows are being exchanged and hope he hasn't actually read your mind. What the fuck is wrong with you?

When the ceremony is over, everyone stands as the bride and groom leave the room together. Sweat still drips down Michael's neck. The collar of that stiff suit must be drenched.

"Charlie! Chloe!" someone shouts from across the room, snapping you out of it.

The cousins get up without a word, leaving you alone with Michael again. Normally you'd be offended by their rudeness, but right now, you don't mind at all.

"I'm sorry about him," you say quietly. "And her too, now that I think about it."

"S'alright," he mumbles.

"It's not," you argue. "They're both being dicks. And to the only person I even like at this stupid thing."

He smiles, showing off his dimples. Adorable.

"Fuck, it's hot in here," he complains, pulling at his collar.

"Want to go outside for a bit?" you ask.

He looks toward the cousins, who are laughing with a crowd of people you have no interest in meeting.

"I think they've already forgotten we're here," you laugh.

"Let's go, then," he grins.

You grab your purse and follow him out of the crowded building, staying close as you dart past all the mingling friends and relatives, until you reach a shady spot on the backside of the building.

"Thought I was going to die in there," he pants, fighting with his tie. "How do you get this stupid thing…"

"May I?" you ask. He nods. You step closer and begin untying his tie. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. He's pulled it tight, making it harder to get undone, but you don't mind taking your time. "There we go," you say softly, letting it hang loose. He reaches for the top button and struggles in his hurry to get it open. Your hands rise to his collar once more, moving his fumbling fingers aside and quickly unbuttoning several buttons to reveal a simple chain necklace and a smattering of freckles. He gasps for air dramatically.

"Better?" you ask, reluctantly dropping your hands back to your sides.

"My hero," he grins, glistening in the light of the setting sun.

God, what is this fucker doing to you?

The band starts warming up inside, and you both instinctively glance in the direction you came from.

"Should we go back?" he asks, suddenly nervous. "She's going to kill me for soaking this suit."

"What if we don't?" you ask.

His eyes flick to yours, and your heart stops. Why did you say that? He's literally on a date with with someone else! So are you!

"What if we don't?" he repeats slowly.

You stare at each other. Those big brown eyes have a hold on you. You feel like you're falling into them. Like Alice down the rabbit-hole. The smell of him swirls through your brain like a fog; he's sweaty, but not in an unpleasant way. It mixes with whatever cheap cologne he's splashed on to make something unmistakably male. It's intoxicating. You don't realize you're actually moving closer together until your lips meet his. They're so soft. They work with yours, not against them, in a dance that weakens your knees and makes your heart flutter.

A shrill laugh nearby brings you back to reality. You're suddenly aware that you're pressed together, arms wrapped around each other. You take a step back and glance around nervously, wondering if you were seen. You can hear other people talking around the corner, and smell the pungent flowers growing on the walkway nearby. The band is playing something vaguely familiar. You listen closer, and recognition dawns on both of your faces at the same time: "Can't Help Falling In Love" by Elvis Presley.

Without a word, Michael reaches for your hand. You slowly take it, and place your other hand on his shoulder; his comes to rest in the small of your back. You begin to sway with the song, just the tiniest bit, never taking your eyes off of his. It feels like you're moving in slow motion. There's something about the intensity of his gaze that makes you forget everything else. There is only Michael.

And his rock-hard erection that you just brushed against.

"Fuck," he groans and backs away, "I'm sorry."

Your eyes glance downward to the python he's trying to conceal, then back to his eyes.

"You want to get out of here?" you ask.

He stares at you for a few seconds, eyes wide and fearful. Did you blow it? Of course you blew it, you both came here with other people. They may be dicks, and you've been thinking about breaking up with him for weeks anyway, but…

"You're serious?"

Fuck it. You nod. So does he. And then you both laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

"I, er… I rode here with her," he mumbles, chewing on his lip.

A wicked thought occurs to you, and you dig in your purse and pull out a valet ticket.

"Guess who shoved his valet ticket in my face while he was ogling a pretty blonde he's probably related to?"

"He did not," Michael says, taking offense on your behalf.

"It's alright," you smile. "It all worked out in the end."

Michael grins.

"Come on," you laugh, reaching for his hand. You take the long way around and eventually find the valet lot. You hand over your ticket and wait for your ex-boyfriend's car to arrive.

"Woah," Michael says when the ugly sports car comes into view.

"Daaaddy bought it for him," you roll your eyes. "Wanna drive?"

"What?" His eyes dart from the approaching car to you. "Really?"

You shrug.

"You serious?" he asks.

"I mean, you can drive, right? You've got a license?"

"Yeah?"

"Then what's the problem? Scared to defile two of Charlie's possessions in the same night?"

He seems stunned for a moment, then a grin grows on his pretty face as the car comes to a stop.

"No problem at all, miss," he smiles, darting forward to open the passenger door for you. You sink down into the seat, he gently closes the door. He thanks the valet and hands the man a few bills. You fasten your seatbelt to keep yourself from slipping and sliding all over the leather seat.

He gets in and looks around, trying to get his bearings in the strange little vehicle. He inspects the gear shift and locates the turn signals, then pets the steering wheel and looks at you with a child-like grin on his face. You lean back against the headrest and sigh fondly, never wanting to take your eyes off of him. He's adorable.

"Where to?" he asks, straightening and suddenly serious.

You point him in the direction of home, and he takes off. He's a little awkward at first, but he gets the hang of the car in no time. He even grows confident enough to drive with one hand, and rests the other on your leg. The feeing of his rough, calloused hand on your smooth thigh nearly drives you mad. The ride takes entirely too long, and you admire your self-restraint for not telling him to pull over and take you on the hood of this tiny, stupid car.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally parks near your building. He turns off the engine, takes a deep breath, and looks at you with uncertainty.

"You still want to do this?" you ask quietly, praying that he says yes.

"You have no fucking idea."

"Let's go, gorgeous," you order.

He leaps out of the car and rushes around to open your door for you. He helps you out and follows you into your building. You make it up the steps and fumble with your keys, cursing your stupid door that won't open. You're about to offer to let him take you in the hallway when he gently moves you aside, applies pressure on the knob with his hands, and pushes with his shoulder. The door pops open.

As soon as you step inside, his mouth is on yours. You drop your purse and kick the door shut, and he pushes you up against it. You moan into his mouth. You can't remember the last time you wanted anyone this bad. And that includes the entirety of the relationship you've just abandoned.

There's no time to walk all the way to the bed. Hell, there's no time to shuffle to the couch. He takes you against the door the first time, your dress rucked up and his pants unzipped. He ruts into you with such force, you wonder if it's going to break the door in half. And then he reaches a spot inside of you that you didn't know existed, and you stop caring about anything but him.

You lose the rest of your clothes and make it to the couch for round two.

You don't make it to the bed until round three.

That's when it happens.

You'd happily stare into those beautiful brown eyes all night long, but he hits a rhythm that has you both squeezing your eyes shut in concentration. All you can do is grip whatever's in reach and hold on tight as you feel your release build… and build… and build…

And then a blinding flash of pleasure washes over you. You've never felt anything like it before. Is this what writers mean when they say someone saw stars? Michael keeps pumping in and out of you, and the feeling doesn't stop. An ungodly noise rises in your throat, and he buries his face in your neck and comes with a grunt and one final thrust, his deepest yet.

Your ecstasy fades slowly. You can't move. You can't focus on anything but the way he makes you feel. You lie there, panting and sticking together for several minutes, until he finally raises his head to look at you. You both laugh when you make eye contact.

"You alright?" he asks.

"Yeah," you breathe, feeling weak and a little confused.

"Never had that happen before."

"Never had what happen before?" you ask.

"Made a girl squirt."

It hits you like a ton of bricks. You raise your head and see that you are indeed lying in a wet spot on the sheets.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you laugh as your head hits the pillow.

"I mean, I've tried, but…" he shrugs, looking embarrassed.

You reach a hand into his sweaty curls and pull him in for a kiss. He looks happy, but confused when he pulls away.

"I've never had a guy do that to me before, either."

"Seriously?" His eyes are ablaze.

"Yeah," you laugh.

"That was a first for both of us?"

You nod, basking in the excitement on his face that you helped create. He leans back down for another kiss, which you enthusiastically return. When he pulls back, you can't help but feel disappointed. You cup the side of his face and stroke his cheek with your thumb, not ready to be apart just yet. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch. Will you ever be able to get enough of him?

"Wanna try for a second?" you ask.

"Oh fuck," he moans, coming back down to continue your kiss, already getting hard again.

While you're recovering from another blissfully successful round, someone starts banging on your door.

At 2:37 am.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," you gripe, rolling out of bed and throwing on the first clothes you can get your hands on. Michael looks terrified. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about him," you tease, leaning over to kiss his forehead. "I'll be right back.

You leave Michael in bed and stomp to the door. You know exactly who it is. "What?" you snap through the door, reaching up quietly to engage the chain lock. Just in case he's grown a pair in the last few hours.

"You fuckin' left me, that's what!" Charlie roars.

"And it only took you all night to notice!" you chirp sarcastically.

"Is the fucking bin man in there with you?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I fucking knew it! You nasty whores deserve each other!"

"You kiss your boss's ass with that mouth?"

"Open the door."

"It's stuck."

He groans loudly and kicks it.

"Yeah, that'll help," you deadpan. "What do you want?"

"I want my shit, you crazy bitch! We're done!"

"Ask me nicely."

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?"

You laugh and leave him to his tantrum as you fetch a paper grocery bag and begin shoving his stuff inside: body wash, deodorant, razor, a few articles of clothing and a shirt that you'd definitely used to sop up some of the fluids you and Michael had leaked onto the mattress.

Michael sits on the bed with the sheet wrapped around his waist, looking fearful. You give him a wink before you leave the room. You pick up some of the clothes you'd scattered across the living room floor, looking for the car keys, and finally locate them underneath Michael's pants. You toss the keys in the bag, fold the top down, and grip the knob. You open the door just enough to slide the bag through.

"There's your shit. Don't come back."

And then you shut the door in his stunned face, lock it, and return to bed.

Michael still looks nervous. You crawl into his lap and kiss the tip of his nose.

"Don't worry about him," you smile, "he's a spoiled brat who throws tantrums whenever he doesn't get his way, but he's harmless. Rich kids can't fight for shit. You, though? I bet you could scrap with the best of 'em."

Michael bites his lip and stares off to the side. You cup his face and stroke his cheeks, wishing he'd tell you what's bothering him.

"You know I'm not really a businessman, right? I'm just a bin man."

You laugh and capture his lips in a kiss, remembering to mumble an "I know, baby," at some point, which makes his whole body relax. You fall back onto the bed together, limbs tangled and mouths hungry.

You ride him 'til dawn.

The pair of you finally begin to wind down as the sun starts to rise. You lie facing each other, satisfied and sticky and too tired to do anything about it. You wish you could stare into those beautiful eyes forever, but sleep is calling you.

"If you want to clear out before I wake up, it's alright. I'll understand," you say softly. Inside, you're screaming and begging him to stay. But what if he doesn't feel the same?

He thinks about it for a minute, biting his bottom lip. "Would it be alright if I stayed?" he asks, almost like he's afraid of the answer. The feeling of relief that floods through you is so intense, you wonder if you're going to pass out. "I can fix your door in the morning," he adds quickly, like he needs a reason to stay.

"You don't have to do that," you smile. Worry clouds his face. "But if you really wanted to, I'm sure I could find some way to repay you," you smirk. His eyes widen. "Would it be alright if I made you breakfast?"

Now it's his turn to be relieved. He smiles and throws an arm over you to pull you closer.

"Would it be alright if I never, ever left?" he mumbles into your hair.

"Yeah," you sigh, getting comfortable in his embrace. "That'd be alright."

[seatnights]

okay serious question, where are all the bunny outfit! or bunny!character fic for easter? where y’all at? what happened to that. we used to be a proper team here

[stardancerluv]

Petal and the Beast

Summary: You wake up in Michael’s bed after a night of drinking and flirtatious behavior.

Notes/Warnings: 18+ only, adult consensual flirting, drinking (be safe) F goes home with stranger (never do this!) adult language.

Had to write something with Michael from Hoard. There will be a few chapters for him and his F!Reader. How Joe looked in the clip I needed to write something! ❤️s are appreciated…so are reblogs! Feedback is also welcome! Wanna be tagged, just let me know.

*Oh, you’re awake.”

You blinked in the low light of the room. Glancing in the direction of the deep raspy voice, you gasped. You covered your mouth with your hand.

The night came crashing down on you.

You had been stood up. You had been nursing your fourth cocktail when he walked up. His dark curls, the hint of a chain laying against his chest under the black button down.

“What’s a pretty girl like you, leaning against my spot all alone?”

“Who said I was alone?”

He only chuckled, making his cynical mouth curl into a smirk. With a quick motion of his hand and a cold one was placed right in front of him.

He took a swig and brushed his mouth clean with the back of his hand.

“So are ya going to tell me or will I have to start inventing stories?” His tone was brisk, almost bored it made you wonder why he even cares to ask.

You finally relented. You knew you couldn’t win against him. “Set up through friends. He never showed.”

“Fucking loser.”

“Hey, maybe his car broke down.”

He rose an eyebrow. “You’re defending him now, almost five drinks in?”

You pressed your lips together. “Alright, fucking loser.”

The curls on his head bounced as he threw his head back with a hearty laugh. “Knew it.”

The night had crawled on. More drinks had been had, it wasn’t long before you longed to feel him, touch him. You knew he noticed and you welcomed, anything that came from him. You could practically feel yourself grow hungry for it.

At one point, he had grabbed you to stop from being a little wobbly. His large hands certainly knew how hold you in place. They did even a better job when he held you to him to kiss if it could even be considered that. More like devouring between two very hungry people.

“We only kissed. I like when my girls actually respond to me and my touch.”

His voice interrupted, your imagination. You were keen in wanting more to have happened the night before.

He finished towel drying his hair and drew close. You could smell the crisp scent of his soap, it made you tremble and the hunger you felt from last night returned.

“I have to head into work soon sweetheart. You are gonna have to run along.”

“But..but.”

A smirk curled his lips once again.

“Look darling, maybe some other time.”

You reached out and managed to tug on the white tank top he was already wearing. “Please?”

He looked you up down and grabbed your chin, tilting your face so your eyes met his.

“Now if we do, sweetheart. Don’t be catching feelings since I saved you from weaving and wobbling home by your lonesome last night, alright?”

“Yes.” You agreed in a soft voice, defeat in your heart.

“Yes, what?”

Your stomach immediately knotted furiously. You could taste your desire for him.

“Yes, sir.”

He smiled, for the first time since you met him. “That’s my sweet petal. I like the sound of that.” And he let go of your chin. “Now be a good girl and take off my white t-shirt.”

[catherinnn]

everyone is talking about this hoard audio and I CAN'T FIND IT ANYWHERE, IT'S GETTING REALLY FRUSTRATING

so if you have it PLEASE send it to me :)

[delicate-luv]

i am so very excited for Hoard! I can already tell this is going to show a new side of Joseph’s talent. (and I love when women direct🥰)

[pollenallergie]

in case you were wondering, yes i do still hc older!tom grant as looking exactly like michael from hoard and, if anything, the new picture(s) that were leaked/released have only further solidified that.

[lou-struck]

Made with Love Part 1

Obey Me Brothers and Datables x reader

Part 2 HERE

MASTERLIST !

~After Luke uses a bowl from Solomon's Lab to make some Cookies for the Valentines Day party. Everyone starts acting a bit... Love Drunk.

a/n: I hope you guys like this little Valentine's Day series! If you want to be tagged in part 2 Comment Below!

Introduction:

As the Angel reaches up on his tiptoes to reach an upper kitchen cabinet, Luke's little white beret slips from his white blonde head. The sweet smell of angelic sugar cookies wafts through the air around him from the dozens of batches he has made today. From what he has 'sampled' earlier, he can tell that if he were to wrap them up right now, even Barbatos would have seconds. But he wants to frost and decorate the little heart-shaped cookies with a whipped-cloud icing you like before bringing them to Diavolo's castle for his Valentine's Day celebration.

The party may be small, but it was planned especially with you in mind. 

Although he was up in the Celestial Realm running an errand for Michael, Luke heard all about the little prank that Solomon played on Simeon and the others about some evil, human-world monster called Cupid that was trying to steal you away. 

You were never in any real danger, but he and everyone else agreed that the prank made the day less enjoyable for you. Which is the last thing anyone wanted. 

Meetings were held, contracts were signed, and it was agreed that for this Valentine's Day, there would be no funny business. 

Today has to be perfect for you, so his cookies need to be frosted.

Fueled by his good-natured desire to make you something sweet, Luke is able to reach just a bit higher, his fingertips grabbing the ceramic mixing bowl by its patterned edge. 

This victory is short-lived, however, as it slips past his butter-coated fingers and thuds to the ground, the heavy bowl splitting in two.

The broken bowl in front of him causes the Angel to feel a bit distressed. Why couldn't he be bigger?

To clean up the fallen pieces.

But as his kitchen timer takes down slowly he realizes that he's running out of time. He has to get the frosting made soon.

"Where are all the other mixing bowls?" he wonders aloud as he looks through the other cabinets and dishwasher, finding none. 

He knows that there are more than just the ones he has been using for the batter. But where are they?

He puffs out his little cherub cheeks with a pout as he tries to think where they could've gone.

And then, it hits him.

Solomon…

The Sorcerer has a habit of 'borrowing' things from the kitchen, bringing them into his Lab, hoarding them, and not bringing them back for weeks. The batch of cookies in the oven only has a few minutes left, so he wastes no time scampering up to the Lab to retrieve the stolen mixing bowls.

Thankfully, the dark wooden door to the Lab is unlocked, and he slips inside. Every step is anxious for the little Angel. You never know what is crawling about Solomon's Lab. 

This time, the air is unusually sweet, like cotton candy and pomegranate seeds. 

The mouthwatering smell has the angeling giggling to himself, although Solomon can't cook an edible meal to save his life, some of the spells and potions he cooks up can be classified as tasty.

From the corner of his eye, Luke sees a small stack of his mixing bowls on the countertop. But as he gets close, he sees that they are completely filthy, covered in remnants of some experiment.

Luke knows not to try to touch those ones; after all, the last time he tried to clean some of Solomon's dishes, he ended up cursed with webbed feet for a whole day. 

As he shudders from the memory, he spots a light blue bowl on the edge of another table. 

It's his favorite bowl; this one would be perfect for him to use to make the frosting. 

The best part is it looks clean. 

BUZZ...

The sharp ringing of the kitchen timer causes the little Angel to jump as he hastily grabs the bowl and runs downstairs so his cookies won't burn. 

But in his rush to prevent what he thinks would be the day's biggest disaster, he fails to notice the small layer of shimmery glaze that has gathered at the bottom of the bowl.

~

There is Love in the dark, chilly air of the devildom as you make your way to the Demon Lord's castle. Your feet are not quite running, but they step with an embarrassed quickness, 

The Valentine's Day outfit that Asmodeus picked out for you earlier had caused a few delays, so now you worry you are running late to the party. 

How can one shirt have so many different types of buttons and zippers?

A part of you wonders if the Avatar of Lust had given you this particular outfit to distract you and prevent you from leaving for the party with the other brothers. 

Your hands pat the back pockets of your jeans again as you feel the solid outline of your DDD through the fabric and sigh in relief. Barbatos wrote on the invitations that bringing the device was necessary for today's events since he had planned a few party games that required them. 

It's then you notice a little figure dressed in white slowly making his way up the path just ahead of you. 

Luke's steps are as small as he awkwardly carries a large container. You are about to ask him if he needs any help, but the look of determination on his face tells you not to try and take it from him, so instead, you raise a friendly hand and call after him.

When he sees you, he stands up a bit straighter. 

"Mc, Happy Valentine's Day." he beams. 

"Thank you, Luke." you look down at the box curiously. "Whatcha got there?"

The little Angel's cheeks turn a bit pink as he looks shyly away from you. "I made angelic sugar cookies for the party.

Your grin is elated at his words. "Those are so good. That was very thoughtful of you, Luke."

He perks up like a little dog at your compliment. "It was nothing, I made that frosting you like too, but I didn't have all the ingredients I needed, so only a few were frosted."

"I'm sure everyone will love them." you smile purposely, making your strides small so the little guy can keep up with you. "Did you remember to bring your DDD for the party games?"

His blue eyes widen in shock, and he looks at you with an expression of pure distress. "Oh no, I knew I was forgetting something."

"Since you have that big box of cookies, I can just run back to Purgatory Hall and grab it for you." you offer with a kind smile. "Where did you leave it."

He looks at you gratefully, and his shoulders relax as much as he can with that huge box of cookies in his hands. "You would really do that for me? Thank you, you're the best Mc; I think I left it on the kitchen counter."

Sounds good, I'll see you in a little bit." you smile. As you turn around, you remember one more thing. "Make sure to save a cookie for me."

"Don't worry," he calls back happily. "I will."

~

The enormous doors part for Luke in an almost haunting manner as he approaches the castle door. He fights the shudder as he steps inside, clutching his box of cookies with a death grip as his ears pick up the faint sound of conversation. 

He follows it closer and closer to the banquet hall, where he was told the party would be held. 

As the sounds grow louder, he can make out the excited rambling of Leviathan, the loud and merry laughter of Diavolo, and the animated squealing of Asmodeus. 

Although they are demons, their happy chatter soothes his nerves as he pushes open the door with his shoulder. 

The conversation in the room dies as the door creaks open. And when he steps out from behind the wood, he notes that everyone has been staring at him. When everyone sees it's just him, they quickly return to their usual conversations. 

"I'm glad you could make it, Luke," Barbatos says with a polite smile, being the first one to recover from the momentary disappointment. 

Simeon approaches the smaller Angel friendlily, placing a hand on top of Luke's head and ruffling his hair. "It seems everyone heard you approaching and assumed you were Mc."

"It could've been." he mumbles embarrassedly, "I had forgotten something back at home, and they offered to get it for me so I could bring over the cookies."

"Cookies?" Beel says, his head snapping towards Luke with gluttonous intent.

Luke's fondness for the Avatar of Gluttony's interest in his sweets causes him to smile and place the box on the table.

He removes the first layer of beautifully frosted cookies for all to see. "Yeah, I made these for the party. That's why I was running late today. 

"Smells good," Beel mutters, taking a slow step toward the tray of cookies. Luke is so proud of the attention he garnered that he doesn't realize that everyone else is staring at the plate as well, enthralled by the sweet smell. 

"Ohhh, they're soooo cute." Asmodeus gushes, holding up the heart-shaped cookie with his freshly manicured nails. The little red heart decals stand out on the glossy pink background.

Lucifer clears his throat. "May I try one?" he asks, "I do not have the biggest sweet tooth, but since it is a Holiday, I may as well."

"S-sure." the Angel replies, as everyone reaches for a cookie. There are only a few left on the plate, so he decides to wait to have one himself until you get here.

"Thank you, Luke, these look delicious," Barbatos says, removing his white glove before touching the gooey sweet. 

Luke watches as everyone takes a bite of the cookies, his heart feeling full when he hears the sounds of approval as they chew. 

"Wow," these are really good," Levi says, being the first to try to take another cookie.

"Wait," he says quickly, snatching the plate off the table. "These are Mc's favorite; let's wait until they get back to eat another one.

Lucifer giggles and stumbles back clumsily. "Yay, Mc's coming…" The dreamy lift in his tone makes Luke's eyes go wide in alarm. 

Something is wrong. 

Are they drunk???

"Mc…Cutie Pie." Satan hums; the usual sharp intelligence in his expression is gone and replaced with giddy lovesickness.

There is a haze to the Prince's eyes and a ruddiness to his cheeks as he nods thoughtfully. "I'll bring this plate up to my chambers. I want to feed them every bite myself. 

"No way," Levi says way too confidently. "If anyone will be alone in a room with Mc. It will be me.

Barbaots stretches his arms out lethargically. "I'm… going to lay down in my room." he yawns. "Tell Mc to come to my room when they get here."

"You're tired, Barbatos?" Belphegor asks, the Avatar of Sloth looking wide awake."

"Yer not?" Mammon slurs, his pupils dilated. Luke turns and looks into the Avatar of Greed's eyes and sees that his pupils are now heart-shaped. 

"How could I be?" the youngest of the seven answers. "Mc is coming soon, and I don't want to waste my time sleeping when I can be looking at them. 

"Do you think Mc would give me a piggyback ride?" Beel hums absentmindedly. 

"Course they would." Mammon gushes. "Mc is super strong and pretty and smart. And….~" his love-sick rambling is cut off by a dark chuckle from Simeon. 

"No way," he coos. "You would crush them if you jumped on their back. You clearly don't know how to treat someone as special as Mc. 

"And you do?" Levi laughs.

Simeon's smile is sinful. "Let's just say once I had my turn with them, Mc won't be thinking about any of you."

"That's so inappropriate." Asmodeus gasps with wide eyes. "I-i can't have you speaking about Mc like that." he covers his ears with his hands to block out the sound. 

"Some Avatar of Lust you are," Simeon smirks, leaning in and using his writer's brain to get a bit descriptive with what he would like to do to you when you get to the party. 

"What is wrong with you guys?" Luke stammers as he tries to block out Simeon's sinful words. 

With everyone else thinking about nothing but you, Solomon shyly taps a rather distressed Luke on the shoulder. His cheeks are a soft shade of pink as he stares down at the floor, "I-i think I know what is happening…"

~Why was in those cookies??? Find out what happens next in part 2

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[welc0me-t0-hellfire]

you had me at “trapped between his thighs” 😵‍💫

OPEN WIDE

my mind is no longer working with this new content so enjoy whatever this is! feedback is always welcome here! thanks for reading! as always, minors stay away please!

((Michael x Fem!Reader Smut)) tw: spit, ball play, name calling, just being gross in general! hope you enjoy this!

Michael has your head trapped between his thighs, moans ringing out through the empty house as you choke and splutter around his cock. “That’s it, what a good girl.” He almost growls out, leaning his head back against the couch that the two of you were currently laying on.

Your cunt aches, needing more than the two fingers of yours that were currently circling your clit, you whine around the base of him, looking up at him the best you could from this angle.

The dark look you got back was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, his brown eyes darkened to an almost black. The dark chocolate curls on his head, matted down with sweat. You could go at this for hours and it would never be enough. Just the smell of his skin was enough to set you off into a frenzy.

You’re so lost in your head, thinking about how much you love worshipping him, and his cock that you don’t register that he’s speaking to you, until he sits up harshly, pulling you off of him by your hair. “I asked you a question.” He says gruffly, before tilting your head back as far as he could, causing your eyes to sting with tears.

Before you could even mutter an apology, your mouth opens in shock, Michael had spit across your face, taking his cock in his hand and smearing it all over you. “That’s how you like it huh? Fucking filthy slut.” He’s leaning over you, looking like he could eat you whole, his chain hangs right in your face and that only causes more pleasure to shoot through your body.

He was nasty, fucking down right disgusting and you loved it. Nothing got you off more than how filthy he loved to fuck. You giggle slightly as he slaps the head of his cock against your cheek, telling you to open up wide for him.

You do as your told, batting your eyes at him as you open your mouth as wide as it’ll go, your tongue lolling out, drool dripping off of it. “Ahhhhhh.” You say, he can almost feel his heart stop at how good you look begging for him to fuck your throat, and he wasn’t going to deny you of it any longer.

“Oh fuck….” He whispers, sliding himself back into your mouth all the way down to the base. He leans back again, hands behind his head as he watches you.

You whine around him as you go up and down over and over, sucking harder and faster each time, you could feel him throbbing in your mouth. His pre-cum sliding down the back of your throat, a salty and almost sour taste you couldn’t get enough of.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna blow, use your hand and suck my balls.” You stop sucking to look up at him, smirking around him as your hand ghosts over his balls, you could feel just how full they were.

He was panting now, tank top pushed up off of his stomach in an attempt to cool off some. It wasn’t working, not with how good your throat felt constricting around him.

“Do as I fucking say.” You don’t have to be told twice, you quickly pull off of him, licking your lips before you bury your face in his balls. The hair on them tickling your face, for anyone else the smell of his sweaty skin would be gross, but you lived for this.

Sticking your tongue out you begin kitten licking all over his balls before sucking them into your mouth, trying to fit both of them as best as you could.

His cock jumps in your hand, you can feel it pulsing with want, he wasn’t going to be able to hold out any longer so you let yourself go, getting as sloppy and messy as you possibly could. His hips lifting off of the couch, a whine of his own ripping itself from his throat before he’s shooting his cum. You’re still stroking him, over and over until he pulls you away from him completely.

Slowly getting to your knees, you smirk up at him before standing up fully. “Look how pathetic you are now, all fucked out and all I did was suck you off.” You snorted, walking around to find your clothes. “It’s rather cute how whipped I have you, now, go take a shower babe, you stink.” You say, walking behind the couch and patting his head before heading into your kitchen for a drink.

[wheels-of-despair]

Only Fools Rush In Pairing: Michael (Hoard) x You Summary: Once upon a time, you met the bin man of your dreams. You spent a few great days together, then decided to reunite next weekend for a real date. What if neither of you can wait that long? Contains: A date, gentlemanly gestures, public indecency, unsettling eye contact, questionable condiments, relentless teasing, accidental but not unwelcome confessions, a relationship moving far too fast for normal people... but if you thought these freaks were normal, you obviously didn't read part one, which you should do right now. Words: 3.2k

Youths and ageless blogs, Do Not Interact. Writer WILL block you.

Michael is coming.

Last Friday night, you went to a wedding, came home with someone else's date, and had the best weekend of your life. No scheduled activities, no putting up with his dumb friends, no silent suffering or forced conversation. Nothing at all like your last relationship. This was just you and a guy you couldn't get enough of, mostly in your bed, exploring each other in ways you never imagined were possible.

He'd told you about growing up the unwanted child of an addict and being shuffled from foster home to foster home. You'd told him about your complicated relationship with your family. You'd coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of him, and he'd shown you more pleasure in a weekend than you'd experienced in a lifetime. He'd fixed the door you'd been meaning to fix for months. You'd cooked for him. You'd showered together multiple times, and fallen right back into bed to work up another sweat. You'd never connected with anyone like this.

All that in one weekend, and it still wasn't enough. You'd both called in sick on Monday and done it all over again. Early Tuesday morning, you'd reluctantly parted with a lingering kiss by your fully functional door. "We have to get back to our real lives," you'd told him. You made plans for a proper date on Friday night. It was only a few days away, but you'd still shed a few tears when you closed the door behind him. It felt like he'd taken your heart with him.

You'd thought of nothing else, no one else, all day long.

Neither had he. He'd called you that evening, right after you'd walked in the door, to say that he missed you. He's on his way over to take you to dinner.

You scramble around your bedroom, deciding that the new panties you'd been saving for a special occasion were too scratchy; maybe they need to be thrown in the wash a few more times. You reach under your dress, shimmy them down your legs, and kick them aside. Where the hell are those red ones that he liked so much?

A knock echoes through your flat, and your heart jumps into your throat. He's here.

You rush to the front door and pause to collect yourself. Be cool. Act normal. You open the door calmly.

Fuck, he's gorgeous.

Michael stands in the hallway with a smile on his face and his hands behind his back. He's wearing dark jeans and a deep red button-up that's not actually buttoned all the way up; you can see his necklace and a few chest hairs poking out. He's freshly showered, and smells like his own soap instead of yours. Just like the night you met him.

"Long time, no see," you joke. He grins. You can't take it anymore; you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and welcoming him back with a kiss. How can you miss a person this much after so little time together?

"I guess absence does make the heart grow fonder," he chuckles, nuzzling into your neck when the kiss becomes a hug.

"It's been what, twelve whole hours?" you laugh, reluctantly pulling away.

"Brutal," he grins, kissing you on the forehead and revealing the bouquet of flowers he's been hiding behind his back.

You accept them with a "thank you" and admire them for half a second, then look up just in time to see him coming in for another kiss. You smile into his mouth, holding the flowers aside and wrapping your free arm around his neck. His hands grip your sides. His kiss is hungry, desperate. Perhaps he missed you almost as much as you missed him.

You're dazed when he pulls away. Michael takes your flowers to the kitchen, finding a tall glass and filling it with water to put them in. You stand there and wait for your brain to catch up.

"Ready?" he asks, returning to you and taking your hand. You nod. The movement shakes some sense into you, and you think to slip some shoes on and grab your keys before you head out. When you get outside, his heavy arm rests across your shoulders. You wrap yours around his middle and lean into him, grateful for his smell and his touch and just to be near him again.

You've never felt this way about anyone before.

The walk passes in a comfortable silence; the restaurant you've decided on isn't far. He holds the door for you when you arrive, and guides you with a hand on your back as you follow the hostess to your table. She brings you to a quiet booth in the back. You take a seat, but instead of sitting across from you, Michael slides in next to you.

If you were anyone else, this would make you sick. Instead, you feel the butterflies in your stomach go wild. Fucking butterflies. What is this asshole doing to you?!

A waitress takes your drink orders and leaves you a pair of menus to peruse, and you do so. You discuss your options and decide on a few things to share, and he relays your order to the waitress when she returns. It's not until she leaves that you begin to talk about things other than food.

"How was your day?" you ask, enjoying the warmth of his thigh against yours.

"Not great, actually," he says, putting one of his rough hands on the exposed skin of your leg. "I was distracted all day. Couldn't get this beautiful woman out of my mind."

"I had the same problem," you smile.

"You did?" he smirks, his thumb rubbing circles on your inner thigh. Your brain buzzes, but you manage to nod.

"Yeah, I saw her crossing the street this morning on the way to work. Absolute knockout."

His eyes narrow, but the rest of his face betrays him; he bites his lip to keep it from curling into a smile.

"You're not funny," he grumps, taking his hand away.

"Then why are you smiling?" you ask.

"Am not," he lies, crossing his arms and doubling down on trying to keep a straight face.

"Are too," you argue, "I see those pretty dimples of yours." You poke a finger into the dimple in his rapidly reddening cheek, and he twists his head to bite your hand. You gasp in mock shock, pulling your hand away. He grabs your wrist and kisses the spot he bit.

He doesn't let go. His eyes are so intense, you feel like you're going to burst into flame under his gaze. You stare at each other, and you wonder if he's feeling this falling sensation too. How is he doing this?

The clatter of dropped silverware nearby snaps you out of it, making you both face forward and make an effort to act normal. You are in public, after all.

But you still need to be close to him. You rest your head on his shoulder, reveling in the scent of him. He leans into you and puts his hand back on your thigh, drawing circles with his thumb.

"I'm mad about you," he whispers.

"I think you were mad to begin with," you tease, glancing up at him with a smirk. He pouts, and you redeem yourself with a kiss.

"I missed you," you admit, settling back into him.

"Missed you more," he mumbles, nuzzling into your hair.

You doubt it.

His hand creeps up your thigh just a little bit, and you instinctively spread your legs. You can feel his dark chuckle rumble through your body. You turn your head and nip at his nipple through his shirt. He jumps and gives your thigh a retaliatory squeeze.

You clench around nothing, cursing your decision to go out when you could've just stayed home and been--

His fingers disappear beneath the hem of your dress, and your breath hitches.

You don't realize how wet you are until his finger glides through your slick folds. Or that he'd knocked on your door and distracted you before you'd had a chance to finish getting dressed.

"Forget something?" he whispers huskily. "Naughty, naughty." Heat rushes to both your face and your core.

"Couldn't find what I was looking for," you explain, trying to keep your voice steady as he circles your clit with one finger. "Remember those pretty red ones you demanded I model for you? You wouldn't happen to know anything about their disappearance, would you?"

His body tenses. You look up at his reddening face and grin.

"Now who's the naughty one, you little thief?" you whisper in his ear.

He bites his lip and shifts uncomfortably, as if his pants have suddenly become too tight.

"Here we are, loves," the waitress announces. His hand slips from between your legs to hide the bulge in his jeans, and you both thank the woman after she places the food on the table.

He slowly tilts his head to look at you, eyes pleading. You could ask for a bag to take your food home… but that would be too easy. You reach for a french fry and lift it to his mouth. He leans forward and bites off half of it. You put the other half in your mouth.

His eyes darken and stay on you as you chew together. When you swallow, you reach for another fry to feed him, but he grabs your wrist in mid-air.

Without taking his eyes off of yours, he dips the hand that's not holding yours between your legs. His forefinger comes up shiny and wet. You watch him in fascination. He lets your wrist go, then picks up a fry and smears the juice across it. He lifts it to your lips, and bites his own nervously.

Fuck. Is this what you're into now?

You lean forward, eyes on his, and bite off half of the fry coated in your own arousal. You can't really taste any difference, but his eyes flash and his nostrils flare with a sharp exhale. He eats the other half, sticking his whole finger in his mouth to clean it off after. Eyes on you the whole time. You've never been more turned on in your entire fucking life. If he lays a finger on you - anywhere - you're going to explode.

"Sorry, dears, here you go!" You back away from each other guiltily when the waitress sets a caddy of condiments on the table. You both thank her, although she didn't stop long enough to hear you. You make the mistake of looking at each other after she's out of sight, and both duck your heads to hide your laughter. When you recover from your near-hysterics, you turn your attention to your food rather than each other. Just in case.

You make it through dinner, sharing everything and leaving nothing behind.

"What's next?" Michael asks, throwing his arm across your shoulders again as you step outside the restaurant. "We could… take a walk? See what's playing at the cinema? Rob a corner shop?"

"Or…" you propose, "we could walk back to my place and save those ideas for other nights?"

His eyes light up like it's Christmas, and he steers you back toward your flat.

Once you're inside, you find your back pressed up against the front door again. His kisses are so deep, it feels like he's trying to consume you. Somehow, you find the brainpower to get his jeans unzipped. He moans into your mouth when you free his cock and give him a stroke.

Your arms circle his shoulders, and his fingers pull up your dress and dig into your ass with a sense of urgency. He mauls your neck when you wrap your legs around him, pounding you into the door with ferocity. You're both so worked up already, it doesn't take long. Your release comes with a low moan, and he quickens his pace and follows soon after. Your legs fall back to the floor, and you slump against the door.

Michael gathers you in a hug and drags you further into the room. You stumble with him, maybe a little more than you need to, and land in a heap on the couch. You get comfortable on top of him, resting your head against his chest and trying not to fall asleep while he gently trails his fingers up and down your back.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks after a while.

"You," you answer. You rest your chin on his chest, looking up into this big brown eyes. If you get lost in those, you don't want to be found.

"Getting sick of me yet?" The corner of his mouth twitches like he's trying to force a smile that doesn't want to come.

"Never," you whisper. A smile spreads across his face and into your heart. When Michael smiles, his whole face transforms. You can't help but smile back.

"You're the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes on," you muse.

He lets out a harsh bark of a laugh.

"Been accused of lots of things, but that's a new one," he grins.

"You are," you smile. "You're perfect."

"You feeling alright?" he laughs again, reaching out to feel your forehead. "Did I knock your head against the door too hard? Something funny in the food? Did you just call the crack baby bin man perfect?"

"Shut up," you growl, moving upward to silence him with a kiss. You shift to get more comfortable, and accidentally brush against his hardened cock. He moans into your mouth.

"This is a really nice shirt," you observe when you pull back, smoothing out his collar.

"Yeah?" he smiles.

"Yeah," you echo. "We should hang it up before it needs to be dry cleaned. Things are about to get messy, beautiful boy."

He grins in a way that makes your heart soar, and starts fumbling with the shirt's buttons.

"Stop," you groan, sitting up to straddle him and unbutton his shirt yourself. "I'm going to have to do everything, aren't I?"

He smirks up at you, eyes twinkling, as you slowly unbutton his shirt. He's wearing a plain white tank underneath, and the sight of it nearly drives you mad. You trail your fingers down the thin fabric, and when you touch the bare skin poking out at the bottom, he sits up and whips his button-up off and throws it aside.

Michael slides his hands up your thighs, taking a second to squeeze your ass before gripping the hem of your dress and pulling it over your head. You're left in nothing but a bra, and he immediately buries his face between your breasts and reaches around to unhook it. It pops open in seconds.

"Oh, so you can handle a bra clasp like it's nothing, but just can't manage to get your own shirt off?" you tease.

"I like it better when you do it," he grins, pulling the straps down your arms and licking his lips. He leans forward slightly and takes a nipple in his mouth, lapping and sucking gently while his hand knead your ass. You close your eyes and throw your head back, never wanting this feeling to stop. He switches sides, and you give a slight roll of your hips against his fly when the cold air hits your wet flesh. His whole body tenses under you. You need him. Now.

You look down at your naked body and then to him. He's wearing far too many clothes. You reach for the bottom of his white tank and peel it off of him slowly, aching with need at the sight of how broad and beautiful he is. You drift your fingers down his chest, through his happy trail, and make quick work of getting the rest of his clothes off. You push him down onto his back and flatten out on top of him. Your bodies snap back together like magnets.

Hours later, having finally made it to bed, you lie awake on your back and contemplate the difference between having sex and making love. Michael's head rests on your stomach, nearly purring at the feeling of your fingers working his scalp. His arm is slung across your hips. You fit together so perfectly, it's like you were made for each other.

"I love you," you breathe.

Michael stops breathing, and your eyes fly open in shock. You didn't mean to say that out loud. If it had been to anyone else, you'd leave a you-shaped hole in the door like a cartoon in the next three seconds. But this is different. He's different.

"You don't have to say it back," you tell him quietly, stroking his hair with surprising calmness. "But I've never felt this way about anyone before. I'm so happy I met you, Michael."

He's quiet, but at least he's breathing again. Your heart breaks when you feel his tears leaking on you. He sniffles.

"D'you mean it?" he croaks.

"Of course I do," you smile, hoping he can hear it in your voice.

"Say it again?"

"I love you."

His body begins to shake. You let him cry for as long as you can stand it… which isn't long.

"C'mere," you say after a few seconds, tugging on his arm. He moves his body upward, burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting you wrap your arms around him.

"I love you, too," he mumbles when he's able.

Your heart explodes, sending warmth through your whole body. You're in so deep, you'll never get out. Not that you'll want to. You hold him close and caress whatever you can get your hands on; his hair, his neck, his back. You can't get enough of him, and judging by the happy little noises he's making when you hit a sweet spot, he can't get enough either.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," he whispers.

"And you to me," you whisper back, kissing his forehead. "I feel like my life began when I met you." He nuzzles his face into your neck, plants a kiss, and pulls back to stretch. You could use one yourself; you've been lying underneath him for God knows how long.

You stretch and twist, and catch sight of the clock. It's late.

"Are you staying with me again?" you ask, looking to Michael.

"Is that alright?" he asks bashfully.

"Of course," you smile, leaning closer to kiss the tip of his nose. "Did you get to work on time this morning?"

"Yeah," he yawns.

You sit up just long enough to set the alarm for the same time as yesterday and straighten the covers out. You pull them up over both of you and lie on your side, head on your pillow. Michael mirrors you.

"Are we going to pretend to go our separate ways again, or should I have a key made for you tomorrow?"

"You'd do that?" he asks, eyes widening.

"I mean, we've already professed our love. Established that 12 hours apart is, and I quote, brutal. At this rate, I expect we'll be married next week." You wink, and he grins. It quickly turns into a muffled yawn.

"We should get some sleep," you say quietly, reaching out to brush your fingers through his hair one last time. He's fading fast.

"Good night," he whispers. He's struggling to keep his eyes open, like he doesn't want the night to end.

"The best night," you smile, already looking forward to waking up next to him in the morning. And the morning after. And the morning...

[spectersgf]

harvey specter x reader idk they meet in a book store (maybe the reader could run it?) never giving each other last names or smhting. but the reader is mikes sister and mike tells her all about harvey but no one manges to connect teh dots? idk you have free control i just thought something like that where the reader has nothing to do wiht his work life and is really soft and sweat .

— bookstores and brothers 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

pairing: harvey specter × reader (+ mike ross & reader are siblings)

summary: a hotshot lawyer walks into a café bookstore and meets a pretty barista. the world is smaller than he thinks.

warnings: none! kinda suggestive but nothing crazy

wordcount: 3.7k (yikes!)

a/n: first request! sorry this was so horrifically late but hopefully the length makes up for it? but also not proofread OOPS. (more rambling at the end <3)

(if you want to be tagged in future fics or if you have any requests, let me know! for my other fics, here's my masterlist!)

Ever since your brother, Michael, started making the big bucks at his job as a fraud lawyer, he had decided to invest in you — your business, that is. With his investment, you were able to follow your dream of opening a bookstore-meets-café, with a small apartment atop the store. Your store was popular enough that you were able to live comfortably; you had a community of regular readers who came for your books (especially since you’d always fulfil requests) and a hoard of regulars that came for your coffee. Your coffee was easily the best in the area, and people even went out of their way to get coffee from you.

Someone who went out of their way for your coffee, though you didn’t know this, was Harvey. You knew very little about him; he was a very attractive man who came in at 8:30am, like clockwork, for his black coffee with vanilla and sugar. You were rarely able to converse with him for very long or in a lot of detail, but you had assumptions. He was maybe a banker or some kind of lawyer like your brother, but the only thing you knew for sure was his coffee order and the fact that he wore a three-piece suit every day. On particularly warm days, he’d forgo either the jacket or the vest, both of which were welcome options. On particularly cold days, he wore a scarf and gloves, and even a coat. His hair was always styled the exact same and he had the most wonderful crow’s feet and smile lines. 

This morning, Harvey took you by surprise by coming in earlier than normal. He came in at 8:17am exactly. It was a warm day so he was without his vest, but other than that he was in his normal attire. Since you were having a slower morning this morning, you started his coffee as soon as you saw him approach. By the time he was in the door and at your counter, you’d finished making his coffee and his cup was ready on the counter. You were feeling bold and flirty and had drawn a heart next to his name on the cup and it was visible to him when he stood in front of you.

“Good morning, Harvey.” You were feeling very cheery this morning, and even more so after seeing him walk in the door. 

“Good morning, Y/N. That for me?” He was eyeing the cup on the counter that was very obviously for him, typical smirk on his face and a playful glint in his eye.

“No, it’s a black coffee with sugar and vanilla for the other Harvey in my life.” You teasingly rolled your eyes as he picked up the cup. You weren’t sure if your eyes were deceiving you, but it seemed like he was being careful to not smudge your penmanship on the cup.

“Well, it’s a good thing this other Harvey isn’t here so I can have his coffee.” He took a sip of the drink, completely unfazed by the temperature and smiled. “Perfect as always. Crazy how this other Harvey drinks the exact same niche coffee that I do, hm?”

You bared your teeth in a cheeky smile. “So crazy,” you replied. “Did you want a pastry or anything?” You gestured towards the display case of freshly baked goods, pausing at your favourite. “This one goes down a real treat.”

“How about a rain check on the pastry, and you can bring it with you when I make you dinner tomorrow night at my apartment?” he asked, feeling equally as bold and flirty as you were. He supplemented his question with a warm smile, his entire demeanour oozing confidence. 

“Oh? The elusive Harvey idon’tknowyourlastname asking me on a date, I see?” you teased, though internally you were screaming: ‘YES! I would love dinner with you!’ 

“You’re cute. Is that a yes? Maybe I’ll tell you my last name when you come over.” He was reciprocating your teasing, which you thoroughly enjoyed. You always appreciated a man who could keep up with your humour. 

“I have a better idea. Come back after I close up shop and we can have a reading date. The best way to get to know someone is through the books they like to read.” You smiled shyly, nervous to be rejected, though Harvey didn’t seem like the type of man to rudely reject your ideas. 

His warm smile was all the confirmation you needed. “That sounds perfect. I’ve been meaning to check out the other half of your establishment for some time. I need some enrichment in my life.”

“Well, if by enrichment you mean a cheesy romance, I’m your girl. I have a bad habit of stocking my favourites and I am a romantic at heart, so that’ll make up a lot of what you find here. I have other stuff, too, but I just gravitate to a good romance book,” you rambled. You blushed when you finally caught yourself, smiling as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Well, clearly I need some romance in my life. I’ll be here this evening.” He didn’t seem put off by your rambling which you were grateful for. Your stomach buzzed with excitement as you nodded.

“See you this evening.”

───────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────────

Harvey had just signed off for the day and was slipping his jacket over his shoulders when Mike Ross walked into his office.

“Haven’t we talked about you not barging in here unannounced?” He asked, only half joking with his associate.

“We both know you don’t care anymore,” Mike replied, rolling his eyes. “And where are you going? It’s only,” he checked his watch, “5:30. Why do you get to leave but I’m stuck here late?”

“First of all, it’s none of your business where I’m going. And second, I did my time working 23 hours a day. And third, it’s none of your business.” Harvey made the decision to take off his tie as he spoke, wanting to feel more comfortable and casual while he was with you.

“Removing your tie, too? You have a hot date tonight. What restaurant are you taking her to?”

“Mike. Shut up.” 

Mike laughed at Harvey’s reaction. “Alright, have fun old man. Use protection!” He shouted as Harvey walked out of his office, no longer entertaining Mike’s discussion. 

───────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────────

He arrived much earlier than close. You were unusually busy this evening and hadn’t even noticed Harvey walk into the store as you finished the line of coffees in front of you. You finally finished and swapped with your employee to take over as cashier when a familiar voice ordered a familiar, but niche, coffee.

“Can I get a large black coffee with vanilla and sugar? But can the pretty barista make it and sign my name with a heart like she did this morning?” he teased, smiling as he saw you.

“Harvey! You’re early, I’m not off yet,” you replied, brow furrowed with concern.

“I was finished for the day and thought I’d come in early and chill here. And by finished for the day, I mean distracted and eager.”

“And by chill here, you mean bug me until I’m done?” you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

“Something like that,” he replied, the look in his eye matching yours. 

“Okay, well, I’m going to hope you meant me when you said ‘pretty barista’ and I’ll bring your coffee over to you in a second.” A warm blush tinted your cheeks as you spoke, swapping places with your confused barista once again.

You quickly made Harvey’s coffee and signed his cup with a heart as he’d requested. After making a mocha for yourself, you spoke to your employees, asking them to take over for you now that the rush had started to slow down for the night. You removed your apron and took your hair out of its loose bun and found Harvey sitting on a sofa in the bookstore portion of your shop.

“Coffee for the gentleman.” You held the coffee cup out for him to take, the side with his name written on it facing towards him. “I would’ve made it in a mug but I had a weird request from the guy ordering it.”

You took a seat next to him and brought your cup to your lips, taking a sip and letting out a quiet hum of appreciation for your drink. He looked at you quizzically as you did so, expecting you to have to get back to work. 

“I managed to get off early. Perks of being the owner.” You smiled over your cup as you slipped off your shoes and got comfortable on the sofa. 

“I don’t think I ever registered that you were the owner here. It’s like, I knew but didn’t know. Does that make sense?” he asked, smiling as he took a sip of his regular coffee.

“It does. Kinda. My brother Michael helped make it happen, he’s a lawyer at some hotshot firm and invested in me and my little dream.” You gestured around the room as you spoke, smiling gratefully at the thought. 

“Did you know I’m also a lawyer at some hotshot firm?” he asked. His tone was light and playful, which you appreciated. 

“I did not. What’s it like, hotshot?” You tucked your feet under you and wrapped both hands around your cup, turning slightly so that your body was completely facing Harvey.

“Well, I’m the best closer in the city. I’m great at what I do and I love doing it. And I have an associate who is determined to become my mini-me. No complaints.” Deep smile lines framed his mouth like a piece of art as you admired him and took in his words.

“A mini Harvey, huh? Sounds like he looks up to you.” Despite your matter-of-fact tone, you were asking a question, curious to know his opinion on the matter.

“It seems like he does. I don’t ever say it but sometimes it feels like pressure. I’ve worked in the grey a lot and I worry about him following in my footsteps. I wouldn’t ever say that to him though.” He opened up to you, though neither of you had expected it. He was surprised by how easy you were to talk to and how quickly he had allowed himself to be vulnerable with you.

“It does sound like a lot, but I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. My brother always tells me about his mentor; he says that despite making some questionable decisions, he’s great at what he does and he looks up to that. It’s probably a similar situation,” you told him sincerely, reaching out to place one hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort him. 

“His mentor sounds like a great lawyer. What’s his name? Maybe I know him,” Harvey asked, obviously wanting to change the subject from his vulnerable state.

“I’m not sure. I can’t remember, I have the worst memory literally ever,” you reply, smiling shyly. “I’m good at remembering books, though! Shall we get stuck in?”

“Is this the part where you bombard me with a million love stories?” he teased, clearly amused but secretly excited. 

“God no. Just one. Or you can pick your own.”

“Do you like to reread books?” 

“Oh, I love to. I’ve reread almost all of my favourites.”

He looked at you smiling, amused once again by your answer. “How about this. Let’s read your favourite book together, and then next time we can read mine?”

“Oh? Next time? You’re that sure it’s going to go well tonight?” you asked teasingly, giggling to yourself. 

You stood up and walked to the shelving, immediately finding your current favourite book and pulling out two copies. You got comfortable on the sofa once again and handed one copy to Harvey. “This is a current favourite, but I haven’t had a chance to reread it yet. It’s a university-based hockey romance and the main character is a PhD student who’s half-Indian and vehemently hates hockey players. I loved it. If you don’t like it, please. Do not tell me. I can’t cope with that much heartbreak.”

You beamed at him and Harvey felt his heart melt at your expression. You were clearly passionate and excited to share this book with him, and he was looking forward to reading it; to seeing into a small piece of your soul.

The pair of you read together for about an hour. You kept to a similar pace and offered casual commentary and anecdotes from time to time. You had to resist the urge to spoil the plot, sometimes only offering quiet hums as opposed to full sentences. You gradually felt yourselves growing physically closer, until you were laying down with your head next to his leg and your hair draped across his lap, legs dangling over the arm of the sofa. He was idly twirling a strand of your hair, only pausing to turn a page when necessary. 

You finished the chapter you were reading and made a mental note of where you were up to before snapping the book closed. “Okay, I think we should call it. I’m starving.” You looked up at him from where your head was resting and watched as he closed the book without his hand leaving your hair.

“Sounds good to me, sweetheart. Since you chose the book, I’ll choose the restaurant. Sound good?” he asked, looking at you with that smile. 

“Sounds great, sweetheart,” you replied, playfully teasing him.

───────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────────

After the success that was reading and dinner that night, the pair of you went on another date. And another. And another. The pair of you got to know each other like the backs of your hands and became unashamedly infatuated with one another. Harvey told you about his brother, Marcus, and you told him about yours. You mostly focussed on childhood stories about your whizz-kid brother with the photographic memory, but you occasionally did update Harvey on your brother’s relationship with his mentor. All positive, but you sometimes did joke that he sounded like he could be a bit of a dickhead. 

After about a month of consistently seeing each other, you discussed meeting the family. You were in his apartment with your head on his lap, the pair of you laying in his big comfy bed.

“Well, I only have Michael. Our parents passed when we were pretty young and my grandma passed almost a year ago. So you only have to deal with my brother and my best friend. Super easy,” you told him, idly tracing his skin with your index finger. 

“I have my brother and his family; he’s got a wife and kids. And then my mother but we don’t talk. So a similar situation for you. Brother and some friends. I’d say you can meet my associate and colleagues but they’d grill me rather than you. So would Marcus, actually.”

You giggled at his words but stopped as the seriousness of your relationship started to set in. Talking about meeting the family was a big step for you considering how little family you had. Letting someone into that trauma felt extremely vulnerable but just as quickly as you felt nervous, you felt calm. You were ready for this. You wanted this with Harvey. You decided to mess with him regardless.

“So… You think you’re ready to meet the family, hm? That’s a pretty big step,” you started, pretending to be deadly serious.

“Oh? Is it now? You don’t want to meet my family?” he asked, tone playful but you could tell there was an undertone of nervousness when he spoke.

“Well, I don’t think two people engaging in a casual fling have any business meeting each other’s families. Don’t you agree?” you continued to tease, though Harvey couldn’t tell you were only teasing.

“Is that what you think this is? A casual fling?” The hurt was starting to show in his voice and you smiled, not at his pain, but at the fact that clearly the pair of you were on the same page with how serious your relationship had become.

“Is that not what you think it is? Do we need to have the what are we conversation?” The teasing lilt to your voice was obvious this time, which immediately eased Harvey’s nerves and put him out of his misery. He smiled at you, smile lines popping and his eyes sparkling once again.

“No conversation necessary, baby. You’re my girl and I’m your man.” He tugged on the piece of your hair that was wrapped around his finger, causing you to smile.

“My man? Too old for the boyfriend title, hm? Old man,” you joked, poking him in the abdomen. 

“I’ll show you old man,” he replied, flipping you so that you were pinned to the mattress under him. The pair of you were a giggly, smiley mess, both excited to have established what you were to each other. Both true romantics at heart.

The next morning Harvey left you in his bed, heading to the office after kissing you goodbye. You watched him get dressed and style his hair, finishing his process by skillfully tying his tie. You watched his hands move the whole time, thinking about how they were all over you the previous night, and you sighed contentedly. Once he left, you flopped back onto his bed, hair fanning out across the pillows as you inhaled your boyfriend’s scent. 

You spent the next few hours reading, gratefully taking advantage of your day off. You made yourself an at-home coffee and easily moved around Harvey’s lavish apartment whenever you wanted a change of scenery, taking full advantage of the space. At around midday, you placed a lunch order to pick up from your and Harvey’s favourite café and got dressed, opting for a pretty white sundress. You left your hair down in its natural form and quickly left Harvey’s building, picked up lunch, and headed in to his office building.

On your way to Harvey’s office you, surprisingly, bumped into your brother. 

“Mike? What are you doing here?” you asked, not expecting to see him today.

“Obviously I’m lawyer-ing, Y/N. What else?” he replied. His sassy tone was an exact mirror image of how yours sometimes was with Harvey, and the fact that you were siblings became extremely obvious if someone focussed on your mannerisms.

“You mean fake lawyer-ing?” you teased, tone matching his perfectly.

“Ha ha. What are you doing here?” he asked, one eyebrow raised as he looked at you, taking in your appearance in his place of work and the bag in your hand.

“Obviously I’m bringing lunch to my boyfriend, Michael. What else?” you mocked playfully, wide smile on your face.

“Boyfriend? Here? Who’s your boyfriend?” he started to ask, but before he could grill you, you spotted Harvey walking towards you.

“Hey, Harvey,” you beamed, greeting him with a warm smile as he walked up to you.

He leaned down to give you a quick peck, completely ignoring Mike’s presence. “Hi, baby,” he mumbled, smiling back at you. He finally turned to look at Mike. “Mike, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Sweetheart, this is my associate that I’ve been telling you about, Mike-”

“Mike Ross,” you interrupted, smiling as the realisation set in. Harvey’s associate was your brother. Your brother’s mentor was your boyfriend. You threw your head back laughing once you realised, shocked that nobody had put the pieces together sooner. “Harvey, meet my brother. Michael Ross.”

The shared look on both of their faces was priceless. They looked at you as if you’d sprouted another head, which only made you laugh more. Both of them joined in once they realised the situation, with Mike being the first one to break the circle of laughs in the middle of the office.

“So this is the hotshot lawyer you’ve been basically ignoring me for?” he asked you, gesturing towards Harvey. “And this is the barista slash bookworm you’ve been dumping all your work on me for?” he asked Harvey, gesturing towards you. 

You both nodded and agreed with a perfectly in-sync, “Yes.”

Harvey looked between you both in disbelief. “Wait a minute. Your last name isn’t Ross.” He was asking a question without actually asking, as he often did.

“Very good observation, Harvey,” you replied.

“Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious,” Mike chimed in, causing you to smile. The two of you had always been a sarcastic duo, irritating a lot of your older relatives in your younger years.

“Oh my god,” Harvey mumbled, “There’s two of them. Exactly alike. How did I not realise?”

“To answer your unasked question,” you started pointedly, focussing on your boyfriend and suppressing your giggles, “I took my mother’s maiden name as soon as I was able to. Y/N Ross just sounds ugly, and this way, I get to honour her.”

Both Harvey and Mike visibly softened at your explanation. Harvey snapped out of it after a moment. “You’ve been talking shit about me to your pretty sister?” he asked Mike, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

“She was my sister before she was your girlfriend, man. That’s my right,” he replied, punching Harvey right back. “Speaking of, if you ever hurt her, I’ll-”

“What are you going to do? Fake lawyer him?” you jumped in at Harvey’s defence, keeping your voice quiet since you were still in a communal area.

“No, I was going to say I’d beat his ass.”

“Like you could. Have you seen his arms?”

“Okay, can you stop thirsting over my boss right in front of me? That’s disgusting.” Mike pretended to gag at your behaviour and you rolled your eyes in response.

“I can do so much worse, Michael,” you teased, pulling Harvey down by his tie to meet your mouth in a (relatively tame) kiss. Mike said nothing but walked away, muttering to himself about your ‘disgustingly inappropriate behaviour’. 

“Now that he’s finally gone,” you started after releasing Harvey from your hold and holding up the bag in your hand, “Lunch?”

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

oh my lord this was long. i wrote this in multiple sits. nonnie, i hope this was up to your standards. i hope i did your request justice. pls pls pls do give feedback. thank u so much for your request. there are more requests in my inbox which I'll be getting to in the coming days so send them in! for any suits characters, not just harvey! plus characters from other media! (warning, i know nothing about most things but if i can write for you, i will <3)

taglist: @shadowinthedarkknight @strawberriesareprettycool

[stardancerluv]

Petal and the Beast

Part Two

Summary: You are out with friends hoping to forget Michael.

Notes/Warnings: Suggestive 18+ thoughts, drinking (be safe!). For the collage I used pics of Joe from the GQ red carpet because he was rather 🥵 to give the idea of what he looks like at this bar. The ankle-boots & cocktail are to give an idea of how reader & her interests. Reader is fem.

Thank you for reading! Re-blogs, feedback & ❤️ are wonderful, thank you!!!

Meeting your friends for cocktails, you were able to lose yourself in their idle chatter. All week long, all your mind did was lap back to Michael.

The way his devil may care smirk curled his lips, how his chain grazed your chest as he moved between your legs. You couldn’t believe it possible, but you were addicted to the crumbs of that night. You yearned for another tumble between the sheets with him.

Sighing, you glanced out the window as you friend Rebecca shared her office gossip. Eager to lose yourself in the twinkling lights of the office buildings that filled out the skyline. Your breath caught, forcing you to cough as you watched Michael walk in. You grabbed your cocktail and finished what was left of it.

“Y/N, love are you ok?” Your other friend Janet patted you on the back, looking at you concerned.

You nodded and giggled nervously. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“So, you won’t give Andy a second chance?” Rebecca, had really felt good with the match she had made for you.

You glanced as he made his way by your table. Your heart began to race. Yet again, you had trouble gathering a breath.

Pressing your lips together, you shook your head. “No, he had his chance. He didn’t even call to apologize.”

Your friend made a face. “He told me he did.”

To be honest, he did but then Michael had showed up and you stopped looking at your phone. At this time, you didn’t care to tell your friends of your tryst with Michael. The waitress, placed a fresh cocktail in front of you. You were grateful.

“Well, the next morning doesn’t count.” You took a sip.

“Oh my god. Did you just see what walked by?” Rebecca leaned towards you and Janet.

You tried to play dumb and shrugged. “Who?” You glanced around.

Spotting Michael, you spotted how like you he was with others. You swallowed, seeing a red head grab his upper arm smiling up at him. How you wished to trade places.

“Now if we do, sweetheart. Don’t be catching feelings since I saved you from weaving and wobbling home by your lonesome last night, alright?”

You weren’t, you just wanted to feel his passions again. That was not feelings. You were not a silly little school girl with a crush.

You had felt so alive and reckless with him. Was it bad you wanted that again?

Chewing your cheek, feeling your frustration grow you quickly excused yourself from your friends. Finding, the ladies and seeing that it was empty, relief filled you. You leaned heavily on the door and sighing, you relaxed.

Going to the sink you splashed some cold water on your face. Dabbing yourself dry, taking a breath you headed back to your friends.

A small sound escaped your lips when a hand reached out in the shadowy hallway pulled up against them. “Let me go!”

You wiggled, a rich chuckle filled your ears and you stopped struggling. You looked up and gasped.

“Hi there, petal.” A smile was splashed across his face.

You pulled your wrist free, his gripped tightened before letting you go.

“You’re strong.”

Your bracelets jangled as rubbed your wrist.

“Do you always pull people to you in darkened hallways ?”

He chuckled. “Only ones who I slept with.” His lips curled into a lopsided smirk, that made your stomach do a somersault.

“You could just say hello.”

He took a step closer, his torso grazing yours. “What’s the fun in that?”

You grimaced and shook your head.

“Its nice to see you again Petal.”

You felt heat fill your cheeks at his pet name for you.

“I’m glad you are happy to see me too.”

“I only blushed.”

His face drew close. “That means your happy to see me too.” You could feel as he breathed.

“No it doesn’t.”

“Yes, it does.” His lips now grazed yours.

“Yes, it does.” You relented, and just as fast he pulled back.

He chuckled. “Since that is settled.” You could feel as his eyes moved over you. “Want me to meet me later for darts or something?”

“Or something?”

He shrugged. “Yes.”

“Where?”

“Where we met.”

“When?”

“Say 9?”

“Ok, that will work.”

“Good.”

You looked at him and then back towards your friends and back at him.

“Oh, after you Petal. I want to watch you move.” He made a gallant gesture.

You smiled and shook your head. “Alright, see you later.” With butterflies flapping hard in your stomach, you turned and walked away.

@amethyst-serenade @jamiethebanished @babybluebex (because you’re such an inspiration with your writing…hope you don’t mind!)

@lavenderquinn @moviegirlsblog @eternalmunson @munsongirl48 @seatnights (since you were all so wonderful to reblog me…I tagged you all, hope you don’t mind!) @emma77645

[stayonmars]

YOU GUYS ARE SO QUICK HOLY SHIT HDKAHSKSHSIEBSKAHS

Michael (Hoard) x fem!reader

cw: 18+ nsfw, piss kink, blow job on a toilet, degradation, kinda dark

That trailer fucked me up. Anyway...here's my 2nd fucking piss fic in less than a week. I hope you're happy.

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There wasn't even a knock at the door before it swung wide open.

"What the fuck?!" You shrieked and tried covering your lower half. It's not like much could be seen with you seated on the toilet anyway, but still. "Can't you fucking knock?"

Michael stands there, watching you in his grungy white tank top and stupid black briefs as you pee. The creep is smiling at you, that slimy little smirk. It shouldn't make your stomach flip the way it does. It's disgusting really how badly you want to touch his freshly washed curls, to know if they're as soft as they look.

"You piss like a fucking racehorse."

His mocking words make you scowl, make your face flush with shame, but before you can say another word he's moving towards you. His hand is on his clothed cock, giving the tip a tight squeeze. The motion makes your own body clench and your steady stream of piss comes out harder. Michael smirks at you again. That stupid fucking smirk.

"Open your mouth."

"Wha-" he grabs your jaw when your mouth moves to speak, holding it open. You flinch but can't stop the moan that escapes when a glob of his spit hits your tongue.

"That's it. Don't swallow. Not yet."

His cock springs free of its confines as the last of your pee dribbles out. Your bladder feels empty but now so does your cunt. Empty and aching as he feeds you his cock.

Shame washes over you again but it's overpowered by pure need. You grab his hips and begin to suck.

"Nasty little fucking slut," he growls and grabs the back of your head, moving you back and forth on his cock, showing you how to suck him just right. He shoves you down until he's tapping the back of your throat and you're struggling for air, your nose buried in the hair at the base of his dick. He smells like soap and musk, straight out of the shower but still sweaty from the summer heat. You moan around his cock, your throat constricting around his tip.

"A-ahh fuck!" His hips twitch, your finger nails digging into his hairy thighs when he unloads down your throat. You do your best to swallow it all down before he pulls you off his cock with a pop. With a hand still in your hair, your head tilted back looking up at him, he rubs the wet, softened tip of his cock across your lips, your cheeks. Smearing what's left of his cum in your face.

"Be a good girl and don't say a word to your mother," he smiles and grips your jaw turning your head this way and that like he's admiring his work. You're sure you look fucked out and sloppy with spit but you don't give a fuck. You'd choke on his cock again if he asked.

So you nod and watch as he tucks his cock back into his briefs and leaves you there, aching and wanting more.

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🖤