sugar, high

elle 💌 22 l latest: like friends, like lovers | masterlist

[1994sunflower]

Imagine if a guy that just won't get the hint that ash isn't his friend just because the guys friends hangs out with him and they are over at the house and y/n walks in the front door and walks over to ash because she's waiting for michael. And he gets an idea to tell the guy saying that one of his friends and she would totally be into him and he should shoot his shot so he would be so scared he wouldn't come back. So when she heads to mikeys room he stops her and starts flirting and she's just sitting there kinda oblivious or trying to tell him she's taken but he's not giving her a chance to speak. And Mikey can hear since they are so close to his room or ash texts him about the guy hitting on her and comes out and well goes from there.... Smut absolutely appreciated if you do this

this ask was appreciated and i definitely went overboard with it but we all know jealous!michael is my favorite michael so hehehe

in which ashton’s friend flirts with you

Ashton was a friendly guy. But he was also friends with Michael for a reason. While he may seem nice, he’d grown up having the same kind of rebellious energy as Michael, one that often had people being intimidated by him. But unlike Michael who people feared, it just seemed to make guys want to be his friend. They found interest in the strength he exuded. Perhaps that’s why he and Michael were so close too. 

So he was still one of the most revered men on campus but he was also pleasant enough that people still found him approachable. And he liked the friendship opportunities he had because of it. The perks he could have from those friendships — invites to parties, free drinks, the girls. Even if those opportunities sometimes came because people thought they could get closer to Michael through him. 

But just because he gave chances to hang out with him to even the most unpredictable of guys didn’t mean he considered all of them friends. No, that was a title that was earned. 

Maybe he was just being nice, maybe he’d get bored of some people. Either way, everyone knew being his friend was something for only a select few. And yet, maybe that particular piece of gossip hadn’t reached the ears of the freshmen, Hunter, currently sitting on his couch. He hadn’t invited him over. He was certain because he’d gotten tired of the little freshie following him like a puppy, talking like they were buddies weeks ago. And yet he kept coming up to him like they were best friends, even declaring it himself to others as Ashton had heard from others on campus. 

It wasn’t that he was a bad guy, kind of dense and couldn’t take a hint but not a bad person. But Ashton should have known better than being nice to someone so much younger, so much more immature. He was too talkative, too much of a try-hard. Even for the tastes of a man as patient as Ashton. He was annoying.

But he’d arrived to his house a few hours earlier and Ashton was not yet as mean as Michael was to kick him out. So instead he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes as Hunter kept talking to him about who knows what and stop himself from bristling when he took a hold of his precious game controllers that he only ever allowed the people he liked most to hold. Hunter definitely didn’t fit that category. Somehow, he must still look like that laid-back cool guy everyone knew him as because Hunter seemed at ease.

Ashton was almost too grateful when Hunter suddenly shut up to realize the reason why. Until he looked behind him at what had Hunter so preoccupied when he turned and stopped to stare. He saw you walk through the main door, keys Michael had given you in your hand. You were smiling like you usually were, the smile that lit up your entire face and made you seem like sunshine personified. And with the pleated skirt you had on, it seemed to solidify the picture perfect innocence you radiated. No matter how short it was. 

But Ashton wasn’t paying attention to all that. He knew well the allure you had with men — the pretty, shy, nice girl that was so easy to imagine in more profane ways. The one who no one could imagine had such a scary, mean, cruel man behind her as the owner of her heart. It’d led a lot of men to broken bones and bloody noses. Their fantasies were useless anyway. Whatever they imagined with you, Michel had already achieved. And the innocent little girl they saw wasn’t so much that anymore. Corrupted. You were already taken, claimed, and in the eyes of Michael and everyone who knew how serious your relationship was, you were as good as married.

But he was long immune to your beauty especially when he couldn’t see you with those eyes. Instead, he watched with amusement at the look in Hunter’s eyes as he took you in. The wide eyed attraction that was hard to conceal, the silence of a boy completely entranced by a girl he knew was out of his league. But if Ashton knew anything about the annoying boy beside him, it was that he was too juvenile to realize when he shouldn’t even try. 

Maybe Ashton should warn him, what is bound to happen if he got too close to you. But, Ashton thought with mischief, that scare and brush with death might be just what he needs to get the freshman out of his life without having to be a jackass and force him out himself. Plus, it’d be pretty funny to watch unfold. Michael was just so easy to piss off. Especially when it came to you.

You were placing your keys back in your bag as you walked closer to the living room and closer to Ashton and Hunter. Your hair flowing around your shoulders. “Hi, Ash.” You said softly, your voice sweet. 

Ashton smiled up at you, finally finding an excuse to abandon the game controller to the game he hadn’t even wanted to play. “Hey.” He touched your arm in acknowledgment and he tried not to laugh when he saw Hunter’s eyes glued to where he had touched your skin. As if in awe.

You ruffled Ashton’s hair in greeting, your smile beaming to the boy next to him. You were never one to ignore someone or make them feel excluded even if you didn’t know them. But you also weren’t one to care much about going out of your way to make friends with other men. Especially knowing your boyfriend. So you didn’t talk to Hunter. Instead, you went to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water.

That pure smile however seemed to be enough for Hunter. Enough for him to feel special and for his interest in you to solidify — and turn urgent it seems because immediately once you left the living room, he turned to Ashton. He liked you. In fact, he was smitten. Just with one smile. “Who is that?”

Ashton vaguely hoped he wasn’t that predictable and obvious when he was a freshman. But he couldn’t say he blamed Hunter either. You were beautiful. “Her?” Ashton knew he was going to be playing with this boy and he might have felt bad if it weren’t so fun. “Oh that’s Y/N. She’s a good friend of mine.”

“Dude she’s so hot.” Hunter looked at him like Ashton was the luckiest man in the universe. But then he looked apprehensive. “Are you two like…together? Because I’m totally into her, she’s completely my type but I can back off if—”

As if he would have a chance either way. But Ashton just shook his head emphatically. Technically it was true, he hadn’t asked if you had a boyfriend. He threw an arm around Hunter’s shoulder for good measure, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. “No, we’re just friends. Don’t worry about that. In fact, go for it. I think you might be her type.” 

“Really?”

The hope in his tone almost had Ashton giggling. But he just kept nodding seriously. “Yeah she’d be totally into you.”

When in fact your type seemed to be centered around a certain tattooed bad boy but he’d find that out soon enough. In fact, Asthon was counting on it. Because after that meeting, he could stop being plagued by this boy. He’d be too terrified to even try to come over again. There’s no way Hunter could even imagine what was about to come, who your boyfriend was. It was impossible to guess when just looking at your sweet nature.

It was too bad he was so new to campus, only a month into the semester. There’s no way he’s heard about Michael, at least not to the full, real extent of what he was known for. And definitely no way for him to know or recognize you as his girlfriend. His girlfriend who he loved and was very protective over. Some might say, was dangerous over. He may not even know what Michael looked like, only heard whispers of his name like a legend. Because the fear of Michael wasn’t just his strength or near savage violent person or cruelty or hostility, it was also the look of him. Covered in tattoos, towering and with knuckles that were nearly always bruised, showing exactly what he was capable of.

When you finally came back to the living room, you barely stopped your path directed straight to Michael’s room. You just said a quick goodbye to Ashton. “I’m going to go see Mikey, I’ll see you later.”

Ashton was thankful you didn’t say Michael’s full name so as to not alert Hunter of his devious plan but he might have had nothing to worry about either way because Hunter seemed too busy in his fantasies with you to notice. That or maybe he was hyping himself up to have the confidence to talk to you. He had stood up right as you moved by and past the couch. But he didn’t move until you were almost to Michael’s door.

“Wait!” He called out. Hunter moved to stand in front of you and between you and Michael’s door. Blocking you from going to Michael was sure to be a strike against him when that door opened. 

You blinked as he smiled nervously down at you. “Hi! I’m—I’m Hunter.”

Your smile was confused but kind anyway. “Hi Hunter…I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

Ashton watched as Hunter’s boyish charming smile made its way to you, completely unaware that it would have no effect on you. He had no trouble sending a man your way even with his loyalties to his best friend. He knew you would never be interested in anyone other than Michael, no one could ever compare to him for you. This wouldn’t be an obstacle, just an entertaining sideshow. At least entertaining for him, Michael wouldn’t quite agree.

“I haven’t seen you around campus before.” Hunter was good at opening conversation. He’d give him that. Maybe that’s why he’d gotten roped into being around him more than he wanted. “And I think I’d notice seeing you before.”

You cocked your head, either completely oblivious to his flirting or ignoring it as a nuisance. “Oh. Well it’s a pretty big university.” 

But the way Hunter was staring at you, taking your face in almost hungrily, made it clear he didn’t really listen to your answer. This was all just a formality to him. His confidence, or cockiness, at eventually winning you over was hilarious. “Ashton didn’t tell me he had such a beautiful friend. I would’ve definitely come over a lot more often.” He smiled like that was a joke but Ashton tried not to shudder at the thought. Having to hang out with him more? That would’ve driven him insane.

You blinked at the compliment, “That’s sweet, thank you.” You said. You were so naive, confusing niceties and attraction.

Hunter nodded, “Why don’t you hang out with us for a while so we can get to know each other a little more? I’d love to, you know, be close to another person on campus.”

Your eyes widened a bit, maybe finally realizing where the intentions of the young boy in front of you were. But still too nice to want to kill his dreams, rather just letting him down easily. “Oh, I can’t. I’m actually going to my b—”

Hunter placed a hand on Michael’s doorframe and leaned against it, nonchalant. “Yeah, I’m actually a pledge for Pike like 2 minutes down the road. It’s no big deal or anything but I can get you into their party tonight if you want. I can give you a tour of the place.”

Ashton was sure he would love to give you a ‘tour’. 

Oh this was just getting better. The more he babbled, the more embarrassingly close he was to confessing, the angrier and scarier Michael would be. You’d control him but not enough for Ashton’s indirect message to be missed — to leave and never return. 

And his attempt at flirting was just a few inches from Michael’s door. 

You looked uncomfortable and Ashton felt just a little bad for you. But it was a necessary evil. Your eyes darted to Ashton quickly for help, for his interruption and for him to get his friend away from you before anything worse happened to him. But you seemed to realize that whatever was happening had started with your troublemaking friend because instead of standing and coming to your aid like he always did when you needed it, he looked away as if he was distracted by a floating piece of dust. Innocently guilty.

So you were forced to just look back at the poor boy in front of you with a strained smile. You hated being flirted with by anyone other than Michael, they somehow all made you feel icky and offended. Especially when they knew nothing about you and tried to impress you with things you hated. “No, I have a boyf—”

“Or we can have other types of fun, whatever you're into…”

You took a deep breath, and released an even deeper sigh. “Like I’m trying to say, I’m taken—”

But he interrupted you again, never giving you a chance to speak as if that would make you more likely to say yes. Ashton for his part did what any loyal friend would do. And definitely not what an instigating rascal would do. He texted his best friend, your boyfriend, to let him know you needed help. 

ash

someone’s hitting on y/n, come out of your room before he steals your girl ;)

The wink might have been too teasing but it got the message across. Or rather, accelerated it. Because with Hunter so close to his door, it was impossible for Michael not to hear his pathetic attempt of flirting. Even over his loud music. But it was easy for him to not hear the girl who he was talking to respond. Your soft voice so easily masked. 

Until he started getting a sense that you should’ve arrived by then, that in all likelihood the girl the loud mouthed freshman was so desperately trying to win over was you. His girlfriend. When he finally heard your unmistakable voice when he lowered the volume of his music, attempting multiple times to reject his advancements, at the same time he received Ashton’s text, he was up immediately. 

He yanked open the door to his room so fast Hunter jumped in surprise. And he finally got to see the wimp that thought he was anywhere worthy to have your attention, let alone your affection. Especially when you already had him as a boyfriend.

But all he saw was the boy being what stood in between you and him, he was preventing you from reaching Michael. While he flirted with his girlfriend. In Michael’s own fucking house.

Michael vaguely found victory in the way Hunter took him in once he turned around. Eyes wide, scared for a moment at his sadistic appearance, looking up at him to his much taller height. But Michael wanted to see him tremble once he realized he had been flirting with his girl. He’d settle with just seeing him bleed on the ground, though. 

And as if you knew what he was thinking, just like his precious girl knew him so well, you called out his name. Right about at the same time Michael shoved Hunter back so hard he hit the wall with all the air in his lungs leaving him. He hit his head but honestly you were grateful Michael hadn’t opted to punching him.

Instead, he used his daunting height to his advantage to completely tower over the already cowering boy. “Don’t ever fucking flirt with my girl again.” 

The chill that ran through Hunter’s entire being at his gravely voice, promising that the threat was very much real with this tattooed man had him stuttering out. “Wh—I didn’t know she was taken dude promise! Ashton tell him! I thought she was single.”

But Ashton was sauntering into the kitchen, lifting his eyebrows innocently. “Oh man, did I forget to mention she had a boyfriend? Oops! Must have slipped my mind.” 

Michael didn’t seem to care despite Hunter’s betrayed eyes because he took a hold of the back of Hunter’s neck in a way that Hunter was sure would bruise later. He was already crying out in pain at his strong grip. “Really? Because I fucking heard her say she was claimed. Were you too busy imagining your little tour with her at Pike?”

Hunter’s eyes widened. He had a feeling of a mouse stuck at the paws of his predator. And the life-threatening fear he felt was really similar. He was a guy, fights weren’t something he was completely foreign to. They were rare but he’s always put up his own. Yet, college really was a world of its own. Because he’d never had someone look like they want him dead as much as the biggest, tattooed older guy in front of him. His grip and muscles were enough to tell him Michael was stronger. The amount of tattoos enough to let him know he didn’t mind pain. And the possessive anger in his face enough to tell him he’d made a mistake the moment he opened his mouth to talk to you.

In his defense, even if he had known you had a boyfriend, there was no way he would have thought you’d be taken by someone like him. The difference as he glanced at your worried doe-eyes was jarring. Though, it made sense why Michael seemed so protective over you when it came to other men. But that was his second mistake, looking at you again.

Because Michael dealt him a big punch across his face. And in Michael’s defense no matter how much harder he could have hit, he made the punch one of his less impactful for the idiotic freshman. But still, it was enough to knock Hunter to the ground with deep yelps of pain. 

“Michael!” You cried out, pushing him away from the poor boy and he let you. 

He hadn’t been planning on punching him. He really hadn’t, for your sake. You hated that kind of scary violence, especially when it came from the man you loved. It wasn’t a side of him you relished in. Yet, seeing him look at you again, knowing what thoughts, what plans, he had for you just seconds before with Michael just a few feet away had him seeing red. He hated men who thought they could take you away from him, no matter if even Michael himself knew he didn’t deserve you, the thought that someone could woo you in a way his emotionally stunted self could fail at was a threat, a fear. And he’d be damned if anyone ever got to have you like he did. Especially not this weak boy.

Michael hadn’t finished with him. “Now get the fuck out of my house.” 

Hunter picked himself up and ran out with the fear of the teenage boy he still was. You felt almost bad for him. You knew he really hadn’t been aware, just lured to his punishment by an annoyed troublemaker. Though you couldn’t feel too bad for a boy that ignored your attempts of letting him know you had a boyfriend. One who proposed ‘fun’ with a sickly innuendo that made you shudder. It was so easy to forget how sleazy boys your age were when you had Michael who respected you so much.

By the time the door slammed shut, Ashton was already at the window, watching until he seemed satisfied that Hunter was long gone.

“Ash!” Michael barked out and Ashton ‘hmm’ed in response. Sauntering back to you as his masterplan just worked itself out. “Next time control your fucking guests before I beat the shit out of them.”

Ashton was all smiles as he patted Michael on the shoulder. “Will do, bud. Now that he’s gone though I’m gonna go have some real fun. Thanks for the help.”

And he may just be the only guy immune to Michael’s suspicious glare because all he did was take his wallet from his room and strolled out of the house. You rolled your eyes. At times like this, it was so easy to see why Ashton and Michael were such good friends.

Michael took your wrist and all but dragged you into his room, his door slamming shut. Maybe anyone else would be afraid of the dark look in his eyes, his angry breaths. Especially when in front of someone so much weaker, smaller. But you just looked up at him with the most innocent expression you could muster. 

“I—I tried to tell him.” Your voice was small, hands trailing up his chest. 

But your gentleness wasn’t enough to dissuade his jealousy, his anger. He took a hold of your hair, pulling and forcing your face to tilt up more to him. You couldn’t help your raspy moan at the roughness.

“Tell him what?” He wanted to hear you say it. And you did.

“That—That I’m yours.” Your voice came out weak, breathy. But Michael’s hold on you got stronger, his face so close as he looked down at you and you could see the pleasure he got at your words, at knowing you had no issues telling other men that very same thing.

“I can’t even leave you alone in my own fucking house without assholes trying to flirt with my girl.” He was still mad, at being disrespected just a few inches away from his room, from the jealousy that enters him every time someone looks and approaches you with lust. The need to claim you for the world to see because evidently what he had already done was not enough. “Maybe I need to mark you up more.”

Though you had been so focused on easing his anger, on reassuring him that he had nothing to be jealous of, you couldn’t tell him just how much you wanted that. 

His lips were on your neck hungrily, sucking, nipping, and kissing hickies into your skin that he made sure were impossible to fully hide. And all you did was turn your head to give him more space, eyes closed at the pleasure of the sensation. 

“They should know by now, that you’re fucking mine.” The possessiveness in his voice made even you shiver. It sounded deadly. 

He cut off a whimper from you when he finally kissed your lips, so hard you thought they’d be bruised. Definitely swollen by the way he kissed you hungrily, lips nipping yours, tongue exploring your mouth. It was feverish, it was fast and rough. If it was any indication of what would happen next, you moaned in anticipation. 

You gasped into his mouth when he lifted you up, arms around your waist as he brought you up to his level, the kiss much easier then. Your legs wrapped around his waist and you moved forward, deeper into the kiss but no matter your involvement, his mouth — him in general — was always the one dominating the moment. But you were more than willing to let him, especially with the great need filling his dangerously jealous and possessive mind, to assert his dominance, his claim over you. The one that had been challenged, uselessly and disrespectfully, just moments before. As if you would ever be anything but his ever again. He was never letting you go, you’d been his from the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time — even if neither of you knew it then.

Your fingers were running in his soft hair, tugging just slightly as your lips moved against each other. You barely even felt him move to the bed but you felt the mattress touch your legs as he sat down with you on his lap, still wrapped around him. His kisses were fervent, leaving you feeling almost breathless until your tongues were clashing hungrily. Small moans escaped you. 

You felt his hands take a hold of your hips, hard, moving yours against his groin. But it only took that invitation for your small hips to start humping against him desperately. You gasped at the friction, pulling away just to throw your head back. He wasn’t even filling you up yet and you were already so responsive. 

“That’s right, grind on my cock, little one.” He wanted to see you weak for him, needed to see how much you needed him. He nipped at your neck before pulling away just enough for you to pull his shirt off over his head and your hands fumbled to help him. Anything to get his perfect body and beautiful, scary ink to fill your eyesight. You practically drooled at the sight of him. How could anyone thing to compare when your boyfriend looked this hot, this intimidating that your heart was racing.

His hands then moved to your body, peeling off your small crop top and it only took a second more for his skilled hands to undo your bra and send it flying. Exposing you for his eyes, something others could only fantasize but he could have. Could touch, squeeze, lick, suck. His luck seemed to inflate his pride to new depths. 

“Fucked himself over for nothing, isn’t that right? You’ll never be with that pathetic loser or anyone else. Not when you’re already such a needy little thing for me.” And then, almost like it was said more for himself than anything, “Mine.”

“Never.” You were breathless.

“Good girl.” And your response, with your easy rejection of the poor guy, deserved a reward. You had been so good. You deserved to have your pussy filled up — who, along with you and the sweet innocent version of yourself others see, you remembered belonged to him so well in front of that boy and let him know as much. Your pussy who was so used to having him inside of you in moments like these to claim, to reassure, that he couldn’t imagine doing anything but give it what it needs. Especially when its molded to his size, to him. 

You suddenly felt him lift you off of him. Tattooed arm around your waist, he lifted you enough for him to be able to undo his jeans, push them and his underwear down to free himself for you.

When he settled you back down in his lap, your skirt fanned out so your panty-covered pussy was directly against his length. And the delicious contact, that just sent your mind thinking to what was to come when there wasn’t anything between you, had you grinding back against him, along his exposed girth. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation that your sensitive nub could feel tingling your entire body. 

Instead of Michael ridding you of your much-too-short-anyway skirt that he could imagine just how mesmerized the flapping of the pleats had Hunter, he just pushed it up enough to expose your panties to his eyes. You barely had a chance to blink before you heard the ripping. 

You gasped and the weak moan that escaped you was unstoppable at this exhibit of strength, of the same strength he used to fuck up men who got too close. And the angry eyes that made you shiver in the best way. Maybe you shouldn’t be attracted to such possessiveness but you felt yourself getting wetter and your pussy clench for him. You needed him.

Michael held your waist as he moved your now bare pussy to be impaled with his hard cock. He didn’t slide in slowly, his anger, his jealousy had him slamming you down onto him and watched with pleasure as you closed your eyes and moaned out at finally feeling him stretch you out so deep. You loved the roughness he was handling you with.

“Claim yourself on my cock.” Claim yourself as mine. Just as you had to Hunter’s face. But this time, he wanted to claim you in the most intimate way only he had and ever will be able to. And you wanted to be claimed. 

He wanted you to demonstrate just who you belonged to, a big fuck you to the universe with you very own actions, to anyone who thought you would ever want anyone else or deserved anyone else. Not when you were already a slut for him, when you were already brainless for his cock and his corruption. 

Only he’d have you like this, only he could. He felt pride at having what they wanted but he also hated that in others’ minds, they thought there was a possibility of otherwise. When there wasn’t and there never would be. Not when he had you this weak, not when he has already gotten to the innocent girl they fantasized about first and tainted, claimed, her with his mark so no one else would ever have her, so you’d be his completely. Your pureness and your love already belonged to this rough man. No one would ever change that. Not anymore, Michael would never let his angel go, no matter if he didn’t deserve you. Everyone else was too late. You’d chosen him and he had no problems reminding the world and the weak assholes who forgot or needed to be shown that despite your differences, you were his. 

Even if that meant fucking you and marking you again to remind the world. And solidify for you, what you had tried to tell Hunter. 

You obeyed him so well, you did exactly what he had wanted you to prove to himself and everyone else. Hands on his shoulders for leverage as you lifted yourself up, mewling at the sensation of him rubbing against your warm and wet walls. The sensation of being stuffed even when you moved so only half of him was inside of you and the exhilaration of feeling filled when you moved down again to have his cock touch the deepest parts of your cunt. 

And then you were bouncing on his lap. 

The skirt that Hunter had been so enamored to watch was now flapping in time with your bounces as you buried him inside of you. You were blushing as you rode him, cute moans tumbling from your lips and Michael could just curse at the pleasure of feeling your walls around him. You looked so innocent even when doing something so dirty. The innocent girl they saw in the most lewd position just for him. Giving yourself to him. While they did not even cross your mind. Your mind only filled with himhimhim. And this pleasure. He’d ruined you and you loved it. He had the girl Hunter had wanted, desperately getting off on his cock, moaning for him, claiming herself as his in a way that no one would ever be able to deny. You greedily taking his cock into your pussy in euphoria.

Your hands were on his abdomen for support as you spread yourself apart on his cock. Leaving his length wetter each time you took him in and out. “So good—ah—it feels so good. I can feel you so deep.” 

He reached so deep inside of you, you felt the blinding pleasure as he reached your deepest parts, as he filled you up so there was no space — just his cock spreading apart your walls. And it felt so good. It felt good to be riding him, feeling and looking so small on top of his daunting build, taking him as well as your little body could. But the tight fit had Michael groaning, the way you looked so cute on his cock — reaffirming to both of you that his cock you gave the privilege to be inside of you.

“Who do you fucking belong to, huh, little one?” He held your face in his hand roughly, forcing you to watch him as you fucked yourself on him. As his cock claimed what was his. And the pissed off look in his eyes only had you whimpering and rolling your hips against him. 

“I’m yours, Mikey. Yoursyours. I belong to this cock —so big— all of me. No one else can have me. I’ll tell them next time, t-to stay away because my big, mean boyfriend is so-so much better than they are. You fuck me so much b-better than anyone else can.”

“Fuck.” Michael breathed out, “That’s fucking right, baby girl. Keep riding me, keep showing me whose you are.”

The bed was shaking with your increasingly desperate hips. You wanted to show him you were his, you wanted to feel his cock hitting that spot over and over again, you wanted to feel his length rubbing your walls and bottoming out more and more. So you rode him faster. 

Your boobs bounced along with you, as each time you drove him inside of you, balls deep. You threw your head back, fingers curling as you squeezed your walls against him, suffocating him even more. Michael gripped your waist again, his heavily inked arms clashing against your bare skin. The sight was hot. The sight of his tattooed and sinful hands touching you so intimately, so lewdly in a way that he had introduced your previously untouched body to. In a way you loved. His corruption, his destruction of you for anyone else except him, it made you whimper in pleasure.

You weren’t sure if he thrusted up into you or if he began moving you in his own faster pace up and down on his girth. Or both. All you knew was that you were going a bit mindless in his lap as the pace quickened and you had him hammering in and out of you, fast and rough.

Your gaspy moans turned into screams of his name. Michael took the opportunity to lean down, wrapping his mouth around one of your tits. Another privilege to your body only he would ever have. He sucked at it as his hips thrusted up into your wetness. His tongue licking at your nipple as the sound of slapping skin increased in the room, joining the sound of your moans and slopping juices. 

You pushed your chest forward, giving him more access to your bare breasts, invitingly. He nipped at your boobs before switching to the other one, all the while hammering into you from below. 

“I bet this is what that idiot was imagining doing to you. But here you are, letting the guy who punched him in his dumb face fuck you stupid — use you — just a few minutes later.” His smile against your tits was as cruel as his words. The dangerous jealousy at the thought of you in others’ minds in that way — of others approaching you with that in mind — only had him want to go rougher. And he did. Your tits were covered in his spit by the time he tangled his hand in your hair and pulled, leaving you stuttering and looking up at him. 

“Daddy” You were whining.

“If they saw the way your cunt was taking my dick right now, how you’re crying out like a little slut for me, what you look like covered in my cum, those fuckers would know they couldn’t even look at you if they knew what was good for them.”

The reminder of his dominance, not only over you in ever sense of the word but over other men — or boys, your mind all but sneered, at least compared to him — had jolts of pleasure shaking your body. Though he largely was setting the pace and fucking into you now, you tried to move your hips as best you could to meet his thrusts, to show him just how good his words made you feel, how hot they were to hear, how hot he was.

He brought you closer to him, your face in the crook of his neck, as he held you still for once so he could fully fuck up into you. His hips slamming into yours with a familiarity you basked in. Your moans turned into higher pitched screams as he finally took full control and rocked your body with his delicious thrusts, entering your small hole like it belonged to him — because it did. All you could do was lean into him weakly, your body submitting so perfectly for him to use, enjoying the pleasure his cock gave you with each thrust. 

He was in charge, despite you being on top. And you gladly gave him that power. It felt so good — you felt so good for him as he held you with tense muscles at the pleasure flowing through him at your tight walls around him, at your moans for him. He was fucking you so good and the charged energy between you, his possessive jealousy only made it better.

“You’re mine little one. You’re fucking mine, and no one will ever get to have you like this. No one else can make you feel as good as I can.”

His words were growled out and you clenched your walls around him into an even tighter fit than before. His thrusts became more punctuated to still squeeze into you at the fast pace he had taken up. The rhythmic feeling of him bottoming out into you, feeling him all the way in your abdomen and the lights in your vision when he reached your every crevices had you gasping out. You were so close, you could feel the warmth pooling in your belly. And as he felt your walls pulse around him, as if begging to milk him for his cum, to keep him inside of you for when that happens, he could feel himself fighting back his early release.

“Oh, you like that?” He said, your body’s reaction was obvious. “You like me reminding you that you're mine — reminding them that you’ll never be interested in their pathetic attempts of flirting when you already have me? You like seeing me fuck them up for even trying?”

All you could do was nod rapidly at his words. You suckled at his neck as your body racked with his continuous pounding. So rough, you couldn’t even really formulate words anymore without stuttering and moaning. But it was enough for Michael.

“Fuck yeah. Shit, keep taking my cock just like that.” His own voice was breathless, gruff. His arousal, his dominance, his jealousy intermixing. "You’re so wet, it’s dripping off my fucking cock, little one. Is it because you liked me seeing me fuck him up for even talking to you or because I’m fucking you so well — making you mine.” His hand came up to your neck, wrapping around and forcing you back to look into his eyes. “Or was it that asshole that’s got you this hot?”

His grip tightened around your throat just a bit, enough to tell you that he wanted an answer, that he wanted to hear you deny another man again. You didn’t even hesitate to shake your head, a weak word escaping you. “No.”

It was only ever him. And you watched the pride filling his eyes as they stared into your submissive debauched gaze. He tapped your cheek just once with his palm before going back to choking you deliciously. And you knew what to do without him having to ask. 

You opened your mouth, tongue out in the lewdest expression Michael loved to see, especially when you were being filled with his dick and especially when on your face that normally looked so wholesome, so pure. He loved to see that ruined by his hand.

Tilting your head up with his tight grip on your throat, he spit into your mouth and watched as you whimpered out a moan and swallowed it as he bounced you on his dick with his fast and expert hips. 

“That’s right, you’re doing so well for me.”

He wasn’t sure if it was the praise that finally had you reaching your breaking point but you cried out.

“Oh my—” You were nearly screaming against clenched teeth. “Please, daddy, I’m so close. Keep-keep fucking me.”

Your words sounded slurred and honestly, you couldn’t even think. You were slowly going brainless with how good he was fucking you, how good his cock felt inside of you as he thrusted.

Michael’s eyes trailed down your naked body. Naked except for the useless skirt that he had pushed up to your waist so it did nothing to cover your drooling cunt that was taking him so well. Looking split open and stuffed as your small body took every inch of his dick like he almost couldn’t fit, a cock too big for your small pussy and lithe size but you were his anyway. 

The sight was beautiful, seeing you connected, seeing the lewd sight of you being defiled and taken by someone who wasn’t treating you gently and didn’t deserve you — someone you would likely have been warned to stay away from. But he had gotten you, tainted you. And he was destroying you with his cock anyway. 

But your skirt did such a good job at fooling others including men like Hunter, looking so cute and modest except for its length. That was why he didn’t take it off of you, he wanted to see it in this context, see him ruining that facade, with your hips rolling needily and his dick between your legs right below it.

“I can’t fucking leave you alone. Maybe they’ll finally get it when I fuck a baby into you. Hm? When they see you pregnant and round and they’ll see that I’m the one that you’re always going to be connected to, the one that fucked you full. The one you chose.”

The thought of you getting pregnant by him, the thought of the claim he wanted to leave on you was enough for you to start spasming on his lap, gasping as your warmth clenched and unclenched around him. The fantasy was too much, the possessive, delicious way he was fucking you was too much. You came around him as you ground your hips down on his cock, feeling the stimulation at the action.

“Yes, chose you.” You breathed out. You leaned down to kiss him, open mouthed and uncoordinated as the pleasure crashed throughout your body. But his strong hands on your hips had you keep bouncing up and down on his cock as you rode out your orgasm. 

Even at the squelching sound as your cum coated the base of his dick, even as his own grunts grew harsher at the feeling of your tightness around him, at your words, at his own fantasy in fully claiming you. You felt it when his thrusts became more punctuated until he finally came inside of you. The sensation alone, the privilege other boys could barely even imagine but one he had with you so easily through your love and trust, had him cumming hard. 

But he didn’t stop thrusting, not completely, even as he came, even as you were being filled up with his cum. He wanted you full of his seed, he wanted you bred and leaking as a reminder that you were his. He didn’t care if he felt the sore overstimulation. He was marking you inside and out and giving you what you deserved. With how good this felt, how you were being satisfied, you’d never consider any other man, just like how you didn’t today. 

He took in the way you moaned at the feeling of his cum filling you up. When he pulled you off of him, he watched the way your wrecked body still trembled from the thorough fucking you had just taken. He watched his cum and yours intermix at your entrance, leaving you smeared and his cum covering what was his.

The sight, the very embodiment of you being his, had Michael groaning out. He had an urge to take a picture, to remind any guy who thought he even had a chance with you how little possibility there actually was. Because it was his cum that was inside you, that covered you — you were his, every part of you. The lewd sight had his possessive heart growing.

And even in your tired, panting body, you still brought his face back down to yours once he laid you down and kissed him deeply. “You didn’t have anything to worry about, Mikey. You never will. I love you.”

Michael nuzzled against your cheek, so different from the violent boy he was in front of others. The reassurance more than enough to send his cold heart racing. You had been so good, you hadn’t shyed away from telling Hunter who you had belonged to from the very beginning and let yourself be marked, begged for it. “I love you too, baby. But I’m not going to stop reminding those bastards that you’re mine, especially if another one gets that close to my girl again.”

You hummed and Michael was vaguely waiting for you to chastise him on his violence but it never came. “You don’t have to stop. You were hot when you finally got him to back off, he wasn’t even listening to me. But you were so…powerful in front of him.” Your hands trailed down his muscled arm. 

Michael raised an eyebrow. Coming from his sweet, peaceful girlfriend, your almost lustful words and gaze at the thought of him being so aggressive and angry was surprising. His dirty girl. It seems he had tainted even your morals. But the thought of him being able to bend your beliefs and desires just for him sent a jolt of arousal through him again. “Yeah? You liked watching me put them in their place for you?”

You nodded, biting your lip. Sure, watching him punch Hunter was scary but after being talked over, being objectified, to see your boyfriend minimize him felt satisfying, the dominance he exuded even to others. And knowing you were his, that he would be able to protect you, to claim you, was even more arousing.

You didn’t feel it when Michael spread your legs again, but you watched as he traveled down your body to your sore pussy. Your back arched when his lips were on you, his tongue delving into your messy cunt. 

Your eyes closed as you moaned out, hands in his hair. This was another reason you didn’t mind his jealousy, you loved it actually. This pleasure that he gave you when he needed to strengthen his claim on you, as if you even needed a reminder. Other men were nothing in your eyes — especially compared to him. But you’d always be happy to let him use you anyway, you’d happily take the unneeded reminder.

[1994sunflower]

is it bad that i want more jealous michael 😫😫

NO because I always want jealous michael. here is a new one shot! hope it hits the spot lol

[1994sunflower]

question: what era of michael do u imagine hty!michael to look like?

i answered a similar question before so you can find a detailed answer here! but in general, i think around 2015 years with his black hair is what originally inspired me.

[1994sunflower]

i love soft michael and y/n more than anything <3 i need more of them

this is basically exactly that! just a soft, sweet day with them. i hope it's what you wanted, i really loved writing it.

[1994sunflower]

im a sucker for soft mikey :( i need more comfort

here's some new soft mikey. hope you like it!

[1994sunflower]

I tested positive for the rona today and the blurb you posted today made me so happy 🥹🥹 I still feel like 💩 but reading about soft Mikey made my birthday.

i'm so sorry to hear that! i hope you get better soon and the symptoms aren't too bad for you. I'm really glad i could help a little (i love soft mikey too🥺). happiest of birthdays to you! 🤍🤍

[1994sunflower]

these michael oneshots r KILLING ME i have so many ideas that ive come up w in my head im way too obsessed

my GOAL is to kill you guys with the one shots so this is the best compliment ever🥰🥰 & omg getting and reading your ideas is probably my favorite thing ever!!

[1994sunflower]

whether is fluff or smut, just michael and y/n watching a movie and cuddling or just cuddling and chatting. :(

I did a short fluffy piece which you can find here! Hope you like it. It was really cute to write☺️

[1994sunflower]

Hey! Could you maybe write a piece on a normal day for Michael and y/n? From waking up together to eating breakfast? What they would do on that day together? Cute cuddles and kisses? Just enjoying each other’s company

in which you have a lazy day

The first day of Spring Break for a lot of college students meant airplanes and beaches. But while you weren’t traveling, it meant a week of normal days with nothing to interrupt your time with your boyfriend. It meant domestic time together and you were craving it. It felt as good as you imagined even as your eyes just fluttered open with the sunlight streaming into your room. 

You yawned and you would have stretched your arms and legs as your night haze started subsiding but you couldn’t. Not with your boyfriend’s strong arms wrapped around you and holding you to him. He was holding you like a teddy bear, his face buried in your hair at the junction between your neck and shoulder. 

It was cute, seeing him so serene. For once, he wasn’t glaring or behind his emotionless mask. He looked like the boy capable of love and sentiment like you knew he was. He looked almost defenseless in a way and the fact that he was trusting himself in that vulnerability to you, that — by his position — it almost seemed like was finding that protection in you, it had your heart full.

You tried to wiggle away first slowly so as not to wake him and disturb him from that beautiful peace, but despite the early morning, his strength was way beyond yours. His arms didn’t even budge. And when you tried using your legs, pushing slightly against his knees — which was where you could reach with your short position — you were still no closer to that space you needed to stretch your aching joints. 

If anything, he grumbled out in his sleep and just brought you in even deeper into him. Until you felt his lips at your shoulder and every part of you was touching him. You were convinced he was still asleep, especially by the silence and his still even breathing. But then you heard his groggy voice, his morning voice huskier than usual sent your indecent heart running.

“What are you doing?” He said but never let go of you. His tone to you was as if you were a troublemaker he was suspicious of.

And you couldn’t help but smile, “I just wanted to stretch.”

But he just groaned softly at your words. “It’s too early.”

Finally you pulled away from him, just enough to see his face and to see his scowl-with-closed-eyes. He was adorable, you thought as you held his face between your hands. You may be the only person to ever think of him that way. You may also be the only person he was allowing to touch him so intimately. “It’s like 10am, bubba.”

“Exactly.” He grumbled. You were reminded how much not a morning person he was. But you took the opportunity to finally sit up, letting his arms fall to the bed behind you as you stretched your arms and legs lazily, like a cat.

And you felt him watching you, finally opening his eyes and enjoying the view of you being the first thing he sees as he wakes up. You felt the shift in your bed — which you had re-bought specifically because your original one was much too small for him, your parents hadn’t expected that to be an issue when they first bought it for you —  as he moved closer to you. Sitting up just enough to move his face towards you before you pulled away, already knowing his intentions.

“No, Mikey.” You pushed his face until he fell back onto the pillow. No matter how much you loved his kisses. “I have morning breath.”

“I’ve kissed you with my cum in your mouth. I don’t really care.” He deadpanned and you gasped at his crude words. Grabbing your pillow, you hit him with it.

“You’re so gross.”

And before you could run away like you so often did whenever you got the confidence to jokingly hit him, he grabbed you by your waist. “Yeah, yeah.” You all but shrieked, giggling all the way down as he pushed you back to laying down on the bed. 

But instead of vengeance, all he did was kiss your lips. Sweetly, gently, borderline still sleepily. But you enjoyed it nonetheless. When he pulled back, it was just enough to be able to whisper against your lips. “Alright, I’m up.” 

You rolled your eyes when he got off from you, sitting on the edge of your bed instead and when your eyes followed him, you couldn’t help but look at his shirtless form. The ink on every inch of skin, each artwork a different depiction. Each showing parts of his impenetrable personality, his foreboding self that had so many others cowering with fear. Yet here you were in bed with him. 

And it did the opposite of frighten you.

You couldn’t help but get on your knees behind him, soothing your hands on his chest from behind as you leaned over his shoulders, draped over him. “Mmm…maybe we could stay in bed for a little while longer?” 

You asked him with a faux innocent lilt to your voice. After all, there were no classes you had to worry about. But as Michael looked up at you from behind his shoulder, you knew he could see your ulterior motives. And he wasn’t one to deny that. Maybe you were a hypocrite, after it took his so long to finally wake up, here you were bringing him back to bed.

You knew people thought he was the bad influence for you, that he was the one that took advantage of your naiveness to ravish you. But the truth was, you seduced him nearly as often as he did you. 

And you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you laughed against his lips when he jumped to kiss you, falling back onto the mattress as he fell on top of you.

+

Your body felt tingly with the relaxation. It made finally leaving the bed a difficult choice. But one your body had to make when you felt the familiar claws of hunger. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” You asked but only as a pleasantry. Michael never had a preference. He liked whatever you made him. And you were proven right when he shrugged. “I don’t care.”

You think your cooking, however basic, had a certain effect on him and you weren’t sure what it was. Maybe he pictured this dynamic, this family-like dynamic and that had him so happy in a way he never is in public. That connection, that future that he would never have had if it weren’t for you. It filled him with warmth. You’ve given him so much.

So even when you just settled on pouring cereal into two bowls, he still kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you back to him until your back hit his chest as he watched from above you.

“What do you want to do today?” You asked, handing him his bowl and watched as he unceremoniously heaped himself on your couch. But you didn’t chastise him. Even though you spent most of your time at his house, you loved that he felt so comfortable in your apartment, like it was his home too. 

Usually when you had those rare days off, you went out. Either on a classic date or just out shopping and enjoying the day out of the house, alone. But you had time to do that in the upcoming days.

Michael was definitely thinking the same thing when he looked at you, pausing in bringing the spoonful of cereal up to his mouth. His expression finally out of his sleepy vulnerable state he always was in in the morning and back to his usual stoic expression. He wasn’t smiling but you knew he felt comfortable, at peace. “I want to stay in.” 

And you couldn’t help but smile, your own bowl in your hand as you sat next to him. You knew him too well. “We can do that.” 

Staying inside and just enjoying the day with each other sounded heavenly. Even starting just then, as he sat eating his breakfast on your couch, the tv humming softly in front of him, you were happy to just sit yourself next to him. You didn’t even have to ask before he wrapped an arm around your body. His arms were long enough that he could hold you in his arms and have his bowl in the hand of the arm that was keeping you there. His other hand with the spoon bringing up spoonfuls into his mouth without an issue of your frame getting in the way. And you ate contentedly in your new position.

+

You were laying down on the couch, your feet on Michael’s lap. Michael had beaten you to the music selection so his loud and frankly inappropriate music was blaring throughout your apartment. Technically you had a book in your lap but you long closed it and were swiping on your phone. 

You kept showing your phone to him whenever you found a funny video and always loved seeing his stoic reactions to them. But you especially loved when you could finally draw out a little smile. Maybe it was more in amusement to the little things that made you laugh than it was finding them funny. But you’d take it. 

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” You asked, word for word as that funny trend you kept seeing go around and the confusion in Michael’s face, your poor boyfriend who’s interests were so much more…mature than yours, made it worth it. 

“You’ve been on your phone for too long.” And when he tried to take your phone, you laughed angling it away. “Aren’t you supposed to be reading anyway?”

And as you stretched your short arm to hold your phone away even further from his grabbing hand, you gasped. A faux-offended look on your face. “Excuse me. I don’t need to be called out for not reading when I should be. Especially by my boyfriend.”

“Uh-huh.” Michael said, finally climbing over you as you giggled. He took a hold of your phone from your pathetically little arm-span. “Well now you won’t be distracted.” But he didn’t get off of you, instead he threw the phone behind him on the couch and focused on kissing your cheek. Which would be sweet if his hands didn’t find the most ticklish spots on your body.

“Michael!” You laughed, writhing away from him at the sensation. “Get—” Your laughs were turning more into giggly screams. “Get off me!”

He was heavy too but you didn’t mind it, especially when you felt his sweet lips on your face. These were your favorite moments with him. When he was playful, free of his reputation and his past feelings that made him so emotionless and scary to others. Instead, he was the loving, funny boy you knew he could be for you. And you weren’t the shy, nervous girl you couldn’t help but being to others. No, with each other, you were your true selves and it was comfortable, perfect.

+

You hadn’t realized how long the days were when you had nothing to do. So when you jumped on Michael, still sitting on the couch with his earbuds in while you had thrown away your remainder of lunch — a small meal eaten on the couch that felt so intimate you could imagine it being better than even five star restaurants — and suggested watching something together he couldn’t disagree. 

He flipped through your subscription services as you settled yourself nearly on top of him, your head on his chest and your arms around him, cuddling yourself into him. “You can choose, Mikey.”

The domesticity of everything had you at ease and you loved seeing the same expression on his face. You watched as he finally chose a movie and you pouted when you saw the heavy action movie. But you stayed silent, just nuzzling yourself deeper into him as you prepared yourself for the tense two hours ahead of you. 

But you think he did it on purpose, choosing a movie he knew you wouldn’t want to watch just to see you hide your face in his chest during those jumpy scenes or hold him tighter when someone died on screen. But maybe you could somehow also see the positives of watching Michael’s favorite genre of movie with him for once because of the way he kissed the top of your head and whispered soothingly to you, his hand moving up and down your body gently. Even you could admit, however, the irony of your hatred of even action movies for their violence considering who your boyfriend was.

“You have the worst taste in movies.” You whispered against his neck as you buried your face there, eyes closed — evidently done even pretending to watch the movie as the final scenes began and instead just basking in his scent and warmth. You felt the rumble of his chuckle under you. 

“You didn’t even watch it.” 

You gasped, faux-offended. “Yes I did! That’s why I can say that.” But then you gave him a lazy smile. “But I liked the cuddling. So, I guess it was okay.”

And Michael shook his head in amusement and you were sure only you would ever be able to recognize that ghost of a smile on his face. He didn’t have to say that it was his favorite part either for you to know it.

You leaned up and kiss him gently before laying your head back on his chest. “Let’s stay like this for the rest of the day.”

When you felt him stand up, carrying you in his arms, you almost whined that he had ignored what you’d just said. But then he was carrying you into your bedroom and laying down on your bed, situating you so your front was to his. Your arms were around his waist, allowing you to cuddle yourself into him, face on his chest as he held you. 

You sighed out in bliss. “Today was fun.” Technically you didn’t do anything, just had a lazy day together and enjoyed each other. But it seemed, that was perfect. 

Michael hummed in agreement as he buried his face in your splayed out hair. You think people wouldn’t believe him if they heard him. No way party animal Michael would enjoy such a boring day at home with his girlfriend. But that was where the truth laid: you knew him better than anyone. He was telling the truth, he always preferred a day alone with you over anything. He’d never felt so at ease and completely comfortable to be himself. 

“What do you want to do tomorrow?”

“The same thing as today.”

You laughed. “Nice try. We’re going out tomorrow, we can’t stay inside all break.”

Frankly, Michael didn’t see why not. Sometimes, he wanted to lock you away and keep you all to himself forever. Staying inside with you all break, having days as nice and peaceful as these all break seemed like a dream. One a couple of years ago, he never would have imagined a man like him would deserve. But he stayed silent, he would do anything you wanted. Both of you knew that. 

“I didn’t jump as much as last time when you chose the movie.” You were speaking lowly without having to. But it fit with the comfy aura around you. That was another thing you loved, speaking about nothing but everything with each other.

“That’s because I chose one that wasn’t that violent.” You felt his arms hold you tighter to him. Your bodies fit perfectly. And you melted even more into him knowing he had taken your likes into account when choosing the movie even when it was his turn. 

“Okay I guess it wasn’t so bad. I still think my favorite part of the day is right now, though. How about you?”

You looked up at him from beneath your eyelashes. And you felt his lips at your forehead in a kiss but he didn’t move them after. Just stayed there, face touching yours.“That wake-up call was pretty fun.”

You slapped his chest a little, “Mikey!” You whined. “I was trying to have a cute moment.” 

Leave it to him to compare your morning sex to your sweet, innocent, cuddling. 

“You looked pretty cute when I had my tong—”

“Michael!” You chastised, giggling just a bit. You madee a move to pull away but he just held you tighter to him, almost moving on top of you so you were forced just to nuzzle into him further. He wasn’t going to have you move away from his cuddles. 

He was laughing silently and you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face. He was so handsome when he laughed and you were so proud only you ever got to see that expression on him just like only you ever heard him be this talkative. “Are you going to pretend that wasn’t your favorite part because I remember you really liking it.”

You huffed against his chest, “Fine. The movie was my second favorite part of the day.” 

He was silent for a moment, just basking in this gentle moment with your small frame in his arms. You felt so safe, so warm in his arms. Like home. “This is mine.”

[1994sunflower]

okay here me out …

mean dom michael like super mean

hi! i explored this side of him, meaner than he's been in my previous work here! hope it's what you wanted and that you like it☺️

[1994sunflower]

ik requests are closed but if you could, could you write about yn being a tease towards michael all day and later he ends up punishing her. i love your stories!

hi! thank you so much 🤍 & yes requests are closed but previously a lot of people asked for similar scenarios so you can find it here! and michael sure ends up putting her in her place, so i hope you like it!

[1994sunflower]

omg imagine what michael would do if y/n is teasing him (purposely or not)

i explored y/n being a little bit of a tease (especially when she shouldn't) here! hope you enjoy☺️ i sure did when i was writing it

[1994sunflower]

ok but bratty y/n 👀👀👀👀

she makes an appearance here! hope you like it♡

[1994sunflower]

I NEED TO SEE MICHAEL DO SOME BRAT TRAINING

you can see some of that here! i loved writing michael brat taming so i hope you like it too!

[1994sunflower]

omg imagine y/n getting a little more bratty with michael and teasing him or something... and maybe he acts annoyed but secretly loves it

sorry for the wait, hopefully this is good enough to compensate!

in which you’re a brat

You were a good girl. You had been all your life. You got the best grades, you were kind, a rule follower, the perfect daughter. And when you found your boyfriend, you were submissive, sweet, and loving. Michael always cooed it to you whenever he had you bent over for him, such a good girl and it always had your preening with pride at pleasing him. 

But after being so selfless for so long, you couldn’t be blamed for being a little selfish. Especially when it came to Michael. When you wanted all of his attention and when you wanted him. When you didn’t feel like waiting it out like a good little girl as he and his friends played video games all day. When you thought his attention should be on you instead of the screen and his friends, his hands on you instead of the controller.

Maybe you were being unreasonable. Especially because he had you on the couch next to him. He’d even had you in his lap at one point, chin tucked over your head as he played and you were on your phone. Whenever you whined at him, pawing at his arm, he always turned to you with a smile that you knew was special only for you. And he’d always kiss you quickly before returning to the game. Or when you asked him to leave with you, hands playing with his hair, kissing his jaw down to his throat as an enticement but he’d told you just a bit more. Three hours ago. He hadn’t been ignoring you but you weren’t satisfied with this little piece of attention.

Maybe you were spoiled. But you wanted to feel like the center of his world like you usually felt under his deep eyes. You huffed slightly in your seat, arms crossed and your mood souring even more when he didn’t turn to look at you. Calum, Ashton, and he looked hypnotized at the video game. Whatever it was. 

You doubted he even glanced when you stood up and left to his room. But you didn’t stay there long, you were on a mission. One that had you fumbling into your bookbag that always had snacks. You were unwrapping a cherry lollipop before you could really think over what you were going to do — in front of everyone. 

Placing it in your mouth, you went back to the living room. But this time you didn’t sit next to Michael. No, you wanted him to see you for this. So you sat next to Ashton, right in the eye line of Michael so no matter what, he’d always see your every move, if only in his periphery. 

Maybe he didn’t notice at first. Didn’t see the way your tongue swirled around the pink lollipop, the way your cheeks hollowed just a bit when you sucked on it, the way you brought it in just a bit deeper than normal. But he could never go more than a few seconds without looking at you, so it didn’t take long for him to see. To notice your suggestive movements, to realize what they meant. 

But you saw when he did. When his face darkened but you weren’t sure if it was from being turned on or in warning. Either way, you didn’t shy away, didn’t feign innocence. Instead, your eyes met his directly as your tongue licked the circumference of the candy, slowly. Your eyes drooped just slightly, a sugary smile on your lips just to add to the seductive game. 

And if what you were purposely doing wasn’t enough, that familiar expression had him near cursing out. You were getting the reaction you wanted, you could see the growing bulge in his jeans, you could practically see the fantasies running through his head at the erotic sight, the self-control to not make them reality right then and there. His hands fisted against the controller, irreparably distracted. Finally, all of his attention is on you.

“Dude, focus. We’re losing.” Calum muttered. He and Ashton were still oblivious.

But Michael ignored him and you felt pleasure at knowing your effect on him, seeing it. Especially after how he had made you wait, how he had preferred a video game over you. For hours. But now it was your turn to make him wait, to make him beg. It only took one glance down to his groin region, where he was bulging against his jeans, with your still sucking heartily on the lollipop to get him to snap. Or maybe it was the small little moan you let out at the taste.

“Y/N, come here.” He said, lowly and patiently. His voice was deep, the want dripped from his word but there was still self-control. And he made no move to stand up to leave with you. He was just going to have you sit with him, close where he could touch you — whichever part of you — without having to finish his game. No matter if he was in front of his best friends, better to show off.

And you felt another flash of annoyance. And another flash of anticipation to continuing this little game. Because right now, you held the cards.

“No.” You said simply. You were giving kitten lips to your lollipop and you saw the way Michael’s eyes trailed down to it. You were teasing him. He was sure about it now and he felt a dark desire rise in him, wanted to break this little ‘fun’ you were playing at.

If you’d had just left it at that, that would have been shocking enough. You were a good girl. Especially to Michael. Submissive and doting. You never disobey him or go against him. You did it happily. And the power and strength he has over you is something you both relish in. To hear anything different was shocking. Michael’s eyes narrowed. Your new behavior wasn’t something he was enjoying. Whatever had you like this, he didn’t like it.

“What?” Now Michael sounded annoyed but you just sniffed, holding your ground. You’d been annoyed all afternoon. He could handle being a little blue-balled, it wasn’t teasing if you gave in.

“I don’t want to.” You turned to Ashton as you continued, “I want to play too.”

Michael opened his mouth to say something, maybe to call you over again — this time with more dominance in his tone. The one that always had you shaking and begging for him. But you didn’t let him speak. 

Instead you rested your head against Ashton’s shoulder. “Can I have a turn, Ash?” Your eyes big, your voice small. Maybe you even fluttered your eyelashes. And it was playing dirty, you knew it was. But you didn’t care. You were having fun and you felt mischievous. 

Ashton stiffened under you and it was then that both he and Calum realized the tension in the air, between you and your boyfriend. Michael didn’t feel jealous of Ashton and Calum. He knew nothing would ever happen just like Ashton knew right now that you were trying to get to Michael. 

But paired with your teasing and ignoring of his words, Michael still felt that dangerous irritation rise in him. But right now he wasn’t sure if it was at Ashton or at you. All this because you were too spoiled, because you hadn’t gotten your way. Since when had you become a brat? Where was his good girl?

“Y/N. Come. Here.” He spoke punctuated, anger swirling in his eyes along with that desire. His patience was running thin. He wasn’t going to ask again and for a moment you considered with exhilaration what he would do if you said no again, if he’d throw you over his knee right in front of the boys. If he’d come to you, and yank you up with just one hand, towering over you with that hot, angry look on his face. 

You could feel yourself getting wet. This hadn’t been to turn yourself on, it had been to tease him. But you couldn’t help it. Anyone else would cower at angering Michael but his power just had you filled with want, even if it was trying to fight your own power right now in a power struggle.

“Fine.” But with the annoyed huffy way you said it, it just riled Michael up further. You were pushing his buttons. You just weren’t sure which ones. Or if you were going too far, but toeing that line felt giddily exciting. 

Putting the lollipop in your mouth, so it bulged out just slightly against your cheek, you finally stood up. Your skirt flowed schemingly short when you moved in front of him, a naughty little smile on your face that told him you knew exactly what you were doing and was met by a warning glare. The message clear: Behave. 

But you felt brave enough to dare him to punish you if you didn’t. You wanted him to suffer that teasing just a bit more. You felt powerful right then. The most feared man on campus and right then, you had him in the palm of your hand. At least it felt like it. Maybe he could take the power back when he wanted, maybe. But not without a fight.

He sat back on the couch, opening his legs just a little bit. And you slid onto his lap without a word. So easily in tune, understanding each other perfectly. Like always. His arms caged you in again as he held the controller around your body. And you felt like you were right back where you started. 

He had you behaved again, his good girl again. But that wasn’t what you were right then. You were a pouting bratty version of yourself. And he wasn’t the same either. No, his body was taut under you, his attention on you rather than the tv screen. Tension and desire fueled him. You could feel his hardness under you. 

And really it could have just been you getting comfortable that you moved your hips against his, just so for your skirt to fan out behind you rather than under you — so that your panties and his jeans had nothing between them.

Your hips grinding below you was subtle at first. At least you thought so, just moving to reposition yourself. Feeling his hardness rub against you was just a benefit. One that just made you more desperate. One that had you rolling your hips a bit more purposeful. Until his hand clamped down on your hips. 

“Stop fucking moving.” He bit out in a whisper into your ear, voice angry. You knew what you were doing. Maybe it was all the teasing finally getting to him, your disobedience that made him look like he couldn’t control his girl in front of his friends or maybe it was you flirting with his best friend just to mess with him. Either way, you shrugged away from him, ignoring him. But he held you closer again, whispering again. “You’re acting like a brat.”

He said the word with disapproval, with distaste. And he could pretend all he wanted, that he didn’t like this side of you. That he hated being teased just for you to act out and deny him. But his body's reaction couldn’t lie, the way his warning eyes also help just a bit of interest in this game of yours, of what he knew you’d give him once he snapped or once he made you break. It was annoying, you were annoying right now, but he’d have so much fun getting you back to his good girl. Getting to assert his dominance and put you back in your place. The build-up was stroking the tension, the fact that he had to exert his dominance more than ever before to get you to behave was somehow turning him on more than he thought.

Of course that just made you want to act out more. You gave him a challenging look, one no one else ever dares to give him. No matter how turned on you were as well, your pure naughtiness would allow you to ignore that just to keep winding him up, make him feel what you felt.

“Make me.” You said, twirling the stupid lollipop in your mouth. Then you rolled your eyes and made a move to stand. But you didn’t get far before Michael stood with you. His hand collected your wrists, keeping you still and stuck in place. 

“I’m really fucking tired of this little act, little one.” Then why were his eyes dark with arousal, why was the sexual tension so thick in the air between you. He loved it and he’d love even more to tame it. 

Michael tugged you, forcing you to move with him. He barely gave out reasoning as he left. “We’re going to Y/N’s house. I have to take care of something. I’ll be back.” More like take care of someone’s behavior. 

Part of you felt exhilarated. He was going to be all yours, even if it meant you might have to be punished. You’d take it if it meant you were going to get fucked and have his full attention again. But then that last sentence pissed you off. After all that, he still wasn’t going to be all yours for the evening. So you started tugging back against him. 

“But I want to stay here!” And if you could, you’d be stomping your feet like a child having a temper tantrum. You didn’t actually want to stay there but you enjoyed pushing your luck right then.

But he was too strong and you tried to pretend you didn’t love that fact that had you so helpless right then. He tugged you behind him, pouting and whining all the way until you got to your bedroom. All the way inside where you promptly called him an asshole. Which was what he was being, had been all day.

But it was that little whisper, said more under your breath than anything that had him snapping. His hand squeezed your cheeks together. “And you’re an annoying fucking brat."

Your heart thumped at the degrading words and the mischievous smile you gave him was unashamed. He felt an involuntary squeeze of arousal at your pretty smile, at what you acting out meant. And how much he was going to relish in breaking your little expression.

He lifted you up and threw you on the bed, literally. You landed with a thud. You looked up at him upside down. He didn’t help right yourself, instead he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed until your head was nearly falling against the side while the rest of your body laid over the mattress. 

“You want to act like a slut, I’ll treat you like one.” And then he was undoing his jeans until his cock was out and in front of your face, hard and leaking. And your tongue almost subconsciously stuck out. Ready, wanting, for him in your mouth. Desperate even after your little stunts of disobedience. This was what you wanted after all, this was what you had wound even yourself up for in the process. Where Michael took up every one of your senses and you of his. But if you thought it’d be that easy, if you thought he wasn’t going to break you after everything you did, you were wrong.

He slapped his tip against your tongue twice. The underside of his cock against your face and both of you could see the length of him compared to your small features. You knew you were lucky with how big your boyfriend was but the sight confirming it just made you yearn.

But you also knew what the almost humiliating position he had you in, under his cock, meant. Putting you in your place. You whimpered out. Your need was more obvious when you tried to stretch your neck to lick at him, kiss him, place him in your mouth. Anything. 

But he pulled away before you could. The only reaction he gave you was a devilish smile that almost had your heart sinking because you knew what that meant. You were in trouble. You tried again but he pulled back once more and you hit your arms against the mattress in frustration. 

“Mik—” But it was like he was waiting for you to try to speak because he shoved his cock in your mouth, sheathing himself all the way to the back of your throat without warning. So you didn’t expect it, so you gagged and tried to pull away by reflex. 

But he kept you still. You wanted to suck on something so bad, he’d give you something to suck on. “Shut up. ‘m tired of hearing you.” 

You felt a bit lightheaded with your position but any muffled words just added to his pleasure. His thrusts were deep and steady, his hips rutting into your face as he fucked your mouth. His hands holding your head still as he thrusted into your warm mouth. He could see your throat bulging as your little mouth tried to accommodate to him. Mouth held out wide, tongue pressed against his shaft as you laid there helpless to do anything but let him fuck his cock to the back of your throat.

He let out deep groans and curses when he felt you gag, when your spit drooled all over him and even to the corners of your mouth. When your throat squeezed him tight like your cunt always did. And it was this that had his thrusts gaining traction, his hand in his hair holding tighter and his tensioned filled body almost shaking as his thrusts became faster, rougher, more frenzied. He was fucking your throat like it was your pussy and he took in the obscene glucking sounds you made as you took it. 

It made it clear that this was for his pleasure, not yours. You didn’t deserve it. “You’re such a bitch.” He breathed out, head tilted back in pleasure. “Flirting with my fucking friends, teasing me like a little slut. Are you an attention-whore, little one?”

But he knew you couldn’t answer him, not with how your body writhed in this rough facefuck. “You have my attention now. But I have to teach you how to fucking behave again because apparently, you forgot who the one in charge is here.” 

He was going to ruin you. He was going to get his good little girl back and he didn’t care if it took getting you into a blubbering mess to do it. He wouldn’t be satisfied until you were tamed. 

Giving you a small reprieve, he pulled out just to hear your shuddering gasp. Your face was already fucked out, expression mixed with spit, and your makeup no longer pristine. Then he was thrusting again. His hands traveled down your body on the mattress, flipping up your useless skirt and tight shirt to expose your tits and pussy to him. He squeezed your tits and saw the way your legs spread just a little more. When his hand cupped your pussy as he continued thrusting into your mouth, your sticky wetness nearly soaked his palm. 

But when you tried to grind up against his hand, he spanked your pussy instead and you jolted at the sensation. This was your punishment. This time when he pulled out, stroking his wet dick in front of you, he stepped back entirely. Lifting you by your face and forcing your eyes to his. 

“Are you going to apologize for your little stunt? Finally remembered your place?” And even the slightly dazed look in your eye, the shakiness of his roughness, didn’t stop you from shaking your head. But he had taken care of the mouth on you, the one that talked back, because you stayed quiet. And to see that crack in your behavior had him smirking cruelly. While you were sure that very smile had hundreds of boys on campus terrified of him, the one they’d seen before they got beat to an inch of their lives, having it in front of you now only had you hot for him. Your dangerous, mean, man.

But just as quickly his annoyance flashed through his eyes and he all but shoved your clothes off before pushing you back on the bed, this time right-side up. He took a hold of your ankle and flipped you, throwing you around like it was nothing. “Get on your fucking knees.”

And you did, you followed orders just like he knew you could. Scrambling to get on all fours, back arched in anticipation, face pressed against the mattress. You could pretend all you wanted, to be rebellious against him and his dominance over you, but your body and your desire betrayed you. Those belonged to him.

Michael collected your wrists behind your back, forcing your face to be smushed against the bed. The satisfied gasp you let out when he entered you without wait turned into breathy repetitive moans when he immediately began thrusting in and out of your pussy at a fast and hard pace. But you were forced to let out all of your babbling sounds into the mattress as he fucked you deeper into it with each body-racking thrust.

Your warm pussy fit around him so well, as always. He filled every inch of you to the point where it felt like you were too full, too stretched out. But both of you knew he could fit, he’d molded you to his shape. But you felt the rub of his shaft against your walls, deliciously and the speed he was fucking you at made the stimulation that made greater. Had you spasming and tightening your wall around him that just made him curse out and pound into you harder until all you could hear were your loud moans, his groans, and the slap of skin slapping against skin. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He asked, voice mean and mocking. But he didn’t want your answer because he punctuated his hips, barely pulling out before slamming to the hilt back into you, pushing his tip against your very edge until all you could do was tilt your head back and let out a pleasure-filled scream.

You may have let out a broken-sounding yes or maybe even a warbled t-too rough, so lost in pleasure you could feel your mind slipping. This was exactly what you wanted. He was fucking you so good, he only had you in his mind, you were the center of his world right then. Even if it was because he was upset at you. His anger had never been so hot, not when it was making him fuck into you like you were nothing but a toy, a slut he wanted to break.

But if you thought you could act like a brat and still get what you want, still get fucked like you’ve been wanting — you underestimated him. He was always so lenient with you, so much so that he had spoiled you. But he had no issues with fixing that. 

“I’m not letting you cum.” He sneered down at you. He could feel your wetness smear his thighs and cover his cock each time he pulled back out. But he was relentless with the movement of his expert hips against you.

“W-what?” Your voice was garbled and he loved hearing you sound so helpless, so scared for what he had just said.

You had been reduced to only caring about pleasure, yours, his, and your release. The thought of being denied that was terrifying, so much so that you began crying out. You made a move to lift your head but he just straightened and began pounding down into you so you couldn’t let out any sounds except some hiccupy open-mouthed moans. Until your face was buried into the bed again. So easy to control your body, so little and helpless under him.

“This is what you get.” He said, warning in his tone. “I told you to fucking behave and you didn’t. Only good girls get to cum. Only bad whores get treated like nothing but an empty hole for me.”

And that was how this rough fuck felt for you. Like your body was just being used, like he didn’t care about your pleasure. Just an animalistic taming and asserting of dominance. The thought nearly had your eyes rolling back, you wanted to be claimed, to be put back in your place. If it meant you’d feel this amount of pleasure with him buried deep inside of you.

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry!” You were blubbering, “Please let me cum, daddy. I didn’t mean to be bad.” 

Finally, finally, he had broken you. You were apologizing, voice sheepish and whiny. Gone was that defiance and imagined power that you had taken up all afternoon and back was that submissive, good girl that you always were for him. That he had trained you to be. And he felt a deeper pleasure and pride at knowing he had done that.

But Michael wasn’t done. He had given you a chance to apologize earlier but now it was too late. Now you had to take what you had caused.

Michael took a hold of your hips to move you along with each thrust. He watched with each thrust how your ass hit against him, how your pussy fought to keep him in with each time he pulled out. So needy and submissive. His in all sense of the words. 

“Where’d that brat go, hm? The one that was so eager to act like a troublemaking whore in front of my friends?” His hand went down to play with your clit until he felt you tensing, the hallowing of your gasps and he stopped before you could cum. You were crying in frustration. 

“‘m not a brat! I’m you’re good girl — ‘ll be good. I won’t—ah—be a brat anymore, I promise. Just—oh my God yes—just wanted your attention, just wanted you daddy.” 

“Yeah?” He finally let go of your aching wrists, and placed his hands on your hips. Holding you still so he could fuck into you at a brutal pace. He could feel his own release creeping up. “Say you’re sorry again and maybe I’ll consider it.”

“I’m sorry!”

“For what?”

“I’m s—sorry for being a bra—” you hiccuped, “brat, I’m sorry for flirting with Ash and for n-not obeying you. It’ll never happen again, daddy, I promise. I’ll always be your good girl.”

Your voice was unstable from the way he was hammering into you but that, paired with your words, had him tilting his head back. There was his good girl again, willing to say anything and do anything he wanted. So accepting of his dominance over you. 

Suddenly all of his rough thrusts stopped and you breathed heavily at the reprieve but still, you whined. “No!” Why did he stop? “Y-You said you’d—”

“You wanna cum so fucking bad?” He spanked you and you jumped slightly at the sting, “Work for it, brat.”

“B-but…” It was mean. But you should have known him considering him wouldn’t mean he wouldn’t use it as a way to keep punishing you, keep teaching you a lesson. And you were desperate enough that you were willing to do anything to feel him moving in and out of you again, to reach your release. 

So you moved your hips back against him, moaning at the feeling of his shaft moving deeper into you again slowly. And then, you bounced back at a faster pace, not quite mimicking his because you were too weak, too fucked out, to move that fast. But enough for it to feel equally as good. Enough for your moans to increase in frequency as you used him to reach your climax, as you worked for it because you didn’t deserve to have it handed to you after your brattiness. 

Maybe it was a way to apologize to him further, or maybe it was just because you always wanted to bring him pleasure but you squeezed your walls around him tightly. Enough for it to feel suffocating for him, but in the best way possible. He cursed at the tightness, how it made it that much harder for him to fit inside of you. 

You didn’t know if it was instinctual or purposeful, but he gave you one quick, deep thrust into you unexpectedly. So deep his tip reached the spot that had you screaming out. And it was the combination of the build-up and everything he’d done to you up to that point — the roughness of the facefuck, of him fucking you on all fours — that had that be the final nail to have you cumming around his cock. 

Your body was shaking violently as you came, hands clutching your comforter as you gasped out as the pleasure rolled through you. Finally. It was so good. Michael took a hold of your hips again and began thrusting again as you rode your orgasm. 

“Fuck, yeah.” His voice was gravelly. It was almost too much for your sensitivity but the feeling of your juices covering his cock in a translucent film and smearing both of your thighs, the way you did your wavering voice had submitted to him so sweetly, he finally gave one last thrust before cumming inside of you.

His eyes closed as he thrusted shallowly with each ribbon of cum, making sure to fill you up, to make sure nothing of his cum went to waste and escaped you. A reminder of what it meant for you to be good for him, a dissuasion from ever being so bratty ever again.

When he finally let you go, you collapsed on the bed, completely spent. Your makeup was ruined but whether it was from you crying and the pleasure or the way he fucked your mouth earlier, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that your poor pussy, bred and dripping some of his cum, felt sore already and you were sure you couldn’t use your legs. He had absolutely taken control of your body and used it as he saw fit. It was exactly what you had been hoping for but the roughness with which he took you definitely had you learning your lesson. 

Michael took a hold of your chin and moved you to face him. “Are you going to be a good girl for me again?”

And you nodded rapidly, no longer holding that mischief in your eyes — not huffing or shaking your head. All those cards you thought you held over him were reduced to nothing. Instead, he held all the power again and you were just satisfied and tamed and back in your place — his good girl. One too fucked out to even talk let alone think of misbehaving, to think of anything but being good for him. Just of being a good little girlfriend for your boyfriend, the one he was always so proud to show off. 

“Good. That’s what I thought.” His lips found yours, more gentle than he had been all afternoon. And you preened at his approval. All he had to do was fuck that attitude out of you and there you were, curling into him and mewling like the good behaved girl you normally were. 

Having you so weak right then had him wondering just how fun it would be to have you act out more often, get to see your defiance break and crumble away when he punished you and took care of that mouth and behavior. Seeing it today was hot, ego-inflating to see how much power he had over you to be able to reign you back. Especially when everyone else will see it when he takes you back all complacent and obedient back to the boys. He’d always want his good girl but he’d be lying if he said all he felt toward your spoiled brattiness was annoyance. Both of you knew it. 

[1994sunflower]

I’m taking the summer off from college and I’ve been being rereading all your stories and blurbs for the last few weeks. I’m literally obsessed ur such a good writer 🤩

thank you so much! i'm so glad you can enjoy my work and especially coming back and re-reading them. it means so much to me. ♡♡ i hope you have a great summer vacation! (and that my work can help you relax and enjoy at least a little)

[1994sunflower]

omg the serotonin i get when you post!!!

ahhhh ur new one-shot was SOOO good!!!

🥺 thank you so much!! i always hope people get as excited as i am when i can post something for you so this makes me feel so warm and happy☺️

and i'm so glad you liked the new one-shot!!! i was so excited to write it and i loved exploring that experience for them.