πΌ ΝΝβ i'm eliana and i'm a non binary pansexual, my REAL age doesn't need to be known ! πͺ¦
κ° π‘» ΰΎ DNI - transphobic , racist , homophobic , fatphobic , racist , abelist or on my MDNI fic
κ° π‘» ΰΎ WHAT I WILL WRITE FOR - cnc, fluff, smut, wlw, watersports, blood play, squirting, size kink, kinfe play, gun play, masochism, yandere, dark themes, bondage, sh, suicide, drugs, and blind folding ! <3
κ° π‘» ΰΎ WHAT I WON'T WRITE FOR - scat (sorry), minor character that's too young to be aged up, straight rape, and race kinks.
πΌ ΝΝβ do not repost my content onto other platforms, reblogging is allowed and feel free to request an anime character or a character you want me to write about !
PS - i currently have a michael jackson addciton and may or may not write about him .. didn't hear that from me tho ...
The sound of your name, raw and hoarse, rips from Luffyβs throat. His hands are clamped so tight to your hips that you can feel the imprint of each calloused digit, digging deeper with every shuddering thrust. Sweat beads on his brow, sticky-sweet, dripping off the side of his face. His gaze, usually wild with mischief, is glazed with a deeper, hungrier mania as he watches where his cock drives into you, slick and flushed dark, pulling back just enough that you can feel every ridge of him dragging against your walls before he buries himself to the root againβand every time he does, Usoppβs answering thrust from behind presses him deeper still, the two of them finding a brutal, accidental rhythm that leaves no room for breath.
Usoppβs voice, usually so prone to nervous laughter and bluster, is stripped to a single, guttural register. βFuck, youβreββ
Words break, reform, spill out again. His cock stretches you open from behind, thick and insistent, the drag of it so obscenely full that your thighs shake. You can feel every pulse of him, every vein, the slight upward curve that catches something inside you that makes your vision white at the edges. He laughs under his breathβeven now, incredulous, audaciousβand the vibration of it travels through his chest and into your back where heβs pressed flush against you.
His palm cracks against your ass, the slap resounding, and the sting blooms outward in a hot, electric ring. You feel it race up your spine, feel it in your nipples, feel it in the involuntary clench of your cunt around both of themβand they both feel that too, the groan that tears from Usoppβs chest low and desperate, Luffyβs hips stuttering forward with a punishing snap.
Each thrust from behind pushes you forward onto Luffy, drives him deeper, grinds your bodies together until the friction is unbearable. He leans in, mouth hot at your ear, his breath ragged and sweet. βYou can take more, right? You wanna make us proud, yeah?β His teeth find the curve of your shoulder, biting down until you feel it in your toes, his tongue dragging over the mark heβs made as if he can taste your pulse. His hands slide from your hips to your ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts, palming them roughly, rolling your nipples between his fingers until you gasp against Namiβs thigh.
Nami.
She sits on the edge of the sofa above you and Luffy, her thighs bracketing your face, her weight settling forward with the imperiousness of a queen who has never once doubted her right to take what she wants. She grinds down against your mouth, not gentlyβnever gentlyβher hips rolling in short, sharp circles that smear her slick across your lips and chin. You part your lips and lick a broad, flat stripe through her folds and she inhales sharply, fingers tightening in your hair until your scalp burns.
βDonβt even think of stopping,β she bites out, panting. Her voice is a whipcrack.
You donβt stop. You seal your mouth over her clit and suck, and the sound she makesβhigh and involuntary and nothing like the woman who haggles pirates into povertyβmakes your own hips rock back instinctively against Usopp. You work your tongue in tight, deliberate circles, feeling the way she twitches and clenches against your face every time you hit the right angle. She tastes like salt and something sweeter underneath, heady and slick, coating your tongue. You tilt your wrist, pressing your thumb to the hood of her clit while your tongue dips lower, pushing inside her just enough to feel her flutterβ
The sound she makes is stark and pleading, her thighs snapping shut around your ears, muffling the world to wet heat and the frantic pulse of her.
Behind you, Usopp has lost all pretense of restraint. His hands span your waist, thumbs digging bruises into the soft flesh above your hips as he drives into you, the slap of his hips against your ass obscenely loud in the small room. You can feel the head of his cock dragging against that spot inside you with every thrust, the angle sharpened by the way Luffy holds you open from the front.
βSheβs gonna come,β Usopp pants, and thereβs triumph in it, the satisfaction of a man who has done his homework. βBet we can make her scream louder than the last islandβs storm, huh, Captain?β
βDonβt challenge me.β Luffyβs grin is sharp even as his rhythm dissolves, his thrusts losing all coordination, becoming something frantic and animal. His cock grinds against the front wall of your cunt with every forward snap of his hips, and you can feel him everywhere, can feel both of them everywhere, the stretch so full it borders on too much and never quite crosses the line.
You clench around them deliberatelyβa long, slow squeezeβand the effect is immediate. Usoppβs breath punches out of him in a broken curse. Luffyβs head drops to your shoulder, his whole body shuddering.
βDo that again,β Luffy grits out, βand I swearββ
You do it again.
Above you, Namiβs fingers twist tighter in your hair, her hips rolling forward with a sudden, urgent violence. βThereβdonβt stop, donβt you fuckingββ Her voice breaks apart. You keep your lips locked around her, sucking in steady pulses, your thumb still working tight circles against her while she shakes above you. Her inner thighs clamp around your face, cutting off the light, and you feel the moment she tips overβthe long, stuttering clench of her against your mouth, the flood of her slick on your tongue, the full-body tremor that shakes her from the hips down as she comes with a sound that is almost silent, almost too much.
She collapses forward, hands splayed across your back, her hips still rolling in slow, shivery figure-eights as she rides out the aftershocks against your mouth. You lick her through every one of them, soft and thorough, until sheβs trembling for a different reason.
Below, Luffy is coming apart. You can hear it in the way his voice goes staccato, can feel it in the way his cock thickens inside you, can feel the desperate, helpless quality of each thrust. βGonnaβfuckβgonnaββ He bites down on your shoulder, hard enough to bruise, and the bright spike of pain tips you over the edge youβve been teetering on. You clench around them both, clenching hard, rhythmic, milkingβ
Luffy comes with a shout muffled against your hair, buried to the hilt, and you feel him in pulses, hot and flooding, his hips jerking through each one.
Usopp is seconds behind him. His fingers scrabble at your hips, his pace shattering into three final, crashing thrusts, and then heβs groaning your name into the back of your neck, his cock pulsing inside you, his whole body going briefly rigid before he sags forward.
The three of you go down together in a tangled, breathless heap, slick with sweat and each other. Namiβs fingers, still loosely threaded in your hair, begin to trace lazy circles on your spine.
Her purr is soft and deeply, thoroughly satisfied.
a/n: teehee, hope you enjoyed!
donβt know if i ever mentioned it but i do imagine this one and the sanji/reader/robin/zoro one in the same universe as just one night
36 in my drafts. comment a number to help me clear them out!
hey everyone, i've been sick so sorry for not posting for a while, i still am sick but i wanna express how thankful i am for the likes and reblogs. you guys are SO sweet and i'm grateful for all 31 followers! i might do a special or something by releasing my anime character masterlist (anime characters i'll write for) starting with MHA! please request fics from me (only mj until i release my anime masterlists) and i love all 31 of my chidlren. stay happy, healthy, cringe and freaky!
hey everyone, i've been sick so sorry for not posting for a while, i still am sick but i wanna express how thankful i am for the likes and reblogs. you guys are SO sweet and i'm grateful for all 31 followers! i might do a special or something by releasing my anime character masterlist (anime characters i'll write for) starting with MHA! please request fics from me (only mj until i release my anime masterlists) and i love all 31 of my chidlren. stay happy, healthy, cringe and freaky!
Warnings: Explicit Language, 18+, MINORS DNI, Cunnilingus, Mentions of Squirting, mentions of foodplay, Wearing luffy's hat while-yk
That morning at breakfast you had it bad. not the food, no Sani never missed when it came to meals. Luffy was there to confirm that sitting next to you like there weren't any other open seats, directly stealing food from your plate. But Luffy Stealing food was normalβwhat wasn't was him staring at you every 10 seconds mid-bite.
βAre you okay Luffy?β
βMhmβ
βAre you gonna eat that?β
Which of course, he doesnβt let you answer and took the piece of bread off your plate without waiting.
He seemed normal, wellββLuffy normalβ. Maybe it was just the guilt eating at your skin, heβs your captain after all and you canβt stop thinking about him in a way you shouldnβt. But today it just seems off, has he always looked at you like that?Β
In all honesty no, he hasnβt. Anyone would be lucky to grasp his attention without the words One Piece, or Meat. but that changed after what he saw last night. The poor boy couldnβt get that image of you in your room like that saying his name, just reimagining it had his dick getting heavy in his pants again.
This is the third time this morning since waking up.
in his defense you looked too pretty eating a banana like that, seeing your lips open wide enough to let it in, and how full your cheeks got of itβdamn it. His thoughts were getting to him again and his brain couldnβt catch up to these feelings. Thankfully Sanji stole his attention away with another plate.Β
Sanji brought you a glass of some smoothie he made with fruits he picked from the last islandβyou werenβt paying much attention it it because Luffy βborrowedβ the glass and finished it in a chug, you didnβt get mad at him for stealing food today. Nope your breathing picked up when you realized he drank from where your lips were, an indirect kiss. Slowly you became hyper aware of everything around you. He was too close today, too touchy and a lot more curious about your face.
βYouβre acting weirdβ
His voice snapped you out of your thoughts and your eyes darted to his.
βW-what-?!β
βWhat are you talking about? Iβm fine.βΒ
He just linked at you once. Chewed, swallowed, then nodded.
βOkayβ
βYou were making weird noises thatβs whyβ
β¦what?
βHuh? What do you mean Luffy?β you itched your head slightly while trying to think about what he meant, itβs not like you were breathing out loud.Β
βLast nightβ-In your roomβ his face hadnβt changed its shape at all, like he was clueless.Β
βWhy were you saying my name __-chan?βΒ
The shock hit you harder than whiplash for a moment, then you got up without excusing yourself and hurried outside. Only then did his expression change into confusion, then realization that he mustβve said something wrong. He forced all the food in his mouth and followed.
Outside he spotted you in the hallway near your room.
β__-chan! Wait!β
Could this get any more embarrassing? Yes, because before you could reach your room his hand caught your wrist.Β
βLuffyββ he cut you off quick.Β
βAre you gonna lock the door tonight?βΒ
βHuh?β
βDonβt lock me out tonight __-chanβ
You looked at him wide eyed and confused, what did he mean by that? Did he see you folded up like that last night? Oh shiβ
βNext timeβ¦ donβt do it aloneβ his voice was soft this time with a hint of seriousness to it.Β
βWhat?βΒ
βYou needed me right? Crewmates have to be there for each other!βΒ
βLuffy thatβs notββ
β--I know.. But Nami and Robin donβt need help like that too right? I only wanna help you!β
And very quickly did you teach him the line that boarders Crewmate and Captain to Boyfriend and Girlfriend. Because he very much realized how much he wanted that too.Β
Now, he's got you on your bed.
your legs folded back against your chest, knees hooked over his shoulders as he kneels between them.Β
His hat resting over your face as you moaned into it.Β
this is uncharted territory for him. βSo shinyβ¦β he murmurs, staring at your exposed folds, already glistening from his mouth working on it and the arousal that he was actually doing this.Β
The way he ate pussy was messy, his face told the story too as his chin was drenched in youβtongue working in a way that put your fingers to shame.
lapping up your wetness like it's the juiciest fruit he's ever tasted. βMmm, it's better than meat!β
Luffy dives in deeper, his mouth sealing over your clit with a wet suck that pulls a sharp whine from your throat. He doesn't know finesse yet, but his raw energy makes up for itβtongue flicking wildly, teeth grazing just enough to send sparks shooting through your core. You buck your hips, lifting off the mattress, but he pins you down with one hand on your thigh, growling into your pussy like he's devouring his favorite meal. βYou taste so good __-chan!β he pants between licks, slurping noisily, his chin already shiny with your arousal.Β
Each pull on your swollen nub has you crying out, your fingers twisting in the sheets as waves of pleasure build, your body coiling tighter.Β
βLike that? Keep making those soundsβI wanna hear more!β Your hips jerk up again, chasing the pressure, and he obliges by rubbing his nose against your humping, his tongue circling your entrance before plunging inside, fucking you with it in short, eager thrusts.
βOhβLuffyyβ
Β The sensation is overwhelming, his inexperience turning into pure instinct as he explores every inch.
Then his fingers join inβtwo thick digits sliding into your soaked heat, stretching you as he curls them experimentally. "Whoa, it's so tight and squishy in here!" his voice in pure awe.
Pumping them slowly at first. But he picks up speed fast when he realizes you like it, the wet sound of his fingers fucking your pussy echoing in the room. It's better than fishing, he decides right then, the way your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper. He scissors them, rubbing that spot inside that makes stars burst behind your eyelids, his thumb brushing your clit in messy circles.Β
The orgasm crashes over you without warningβyour pussy spasms around his fingers, gushing slick onto his hand. SplashingΒ on face slightly as you screamed his name.Β
But Luffy doesn't stop, lapping at the flood like it's nectar, his eyes locked on yours with pure delight.
No dessert Sanji whipped up was ever gonna compare to this.Β
You both catch your breath, the air thick with the scent of sex. Luffy nuzzles your neck, just breathing softlyΒ there. βThat was funβway better than anything! β He pauses, then perks up with that signature stupid grin he carried βHeyβ¦ next time can I eat ice cream off your pussy? Bet it'd taste even better!β
Perv! luffy watching you through the cracked door as you call his name π€§ #O meathod
I havenβt posted in almost 6 months omg Iβve been so busy with my clinicals, but ask and you shall receive!! MINORS DNI
[Pairing]: Luffy x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Explicit Language, 18+, MINORS DNI, written as requested
You shouldβve known better than to do this on the Sunny.
Too risky. Too many creaky floors. Too many curious idiots.
But the ache was too much tonight.
So you locked the bedroom door.
Or thought you did.
Palm between your thighs.
Breath catching.
Sweat on your brow as your hand reached under your shorts, slow, gentle then at a mediocre pace your fingers rubbed at your clit. The sexual tension you faced all day staring at his toned body, that βXβ draped around his chest like a fucking treasure map you wanted to hunt down. But for now you kept it a fantasy, just like you did a few days ago, then the week before that: you were currently in a loophole of pleasuring yourself to the thought of him.
And his name.
Spilling from your lips before you can stop it as your middle finger curved while slipping in & poking your cervix.
βLuffyβ¦β
Soft.
Wrecked.
Needy.
You donβt know that heβs right there, behind the door.
You donβt hear the barely-there creak of the hallway floor.
Donβt see the shadow pass in front of the crack in the door.
Donβt feel the pair of dark eyes on youβwide, hungry.
He doesnβt mean to stop.
He shouldnβt stop.
But then he hears it again.
βLuffy, pleaseβ¦β
And he freezes.
Youβre breathless.
Youβre close.
Youβre whimpering for him like heβs the only thing you need in the world.
His cock twitches.
Hard. Fast. Immediate.
He presses his forehead to the wall, eyes still locked through the gap.
Your fingers.
Your slick.
Your thighs.
Your voice.
He licks his lips.
God, youβre so pretty like this.
He palms himself through his shorts.
Heβs never really touched himself before meeting youβnever really thought about it.
But you? Like this? on his ship fucking yourself to the idea of him?
Itβs different.
Heβs breathing hard now. Quiet, but shaky.
The grip on his dick is clumsy, of course it is.
But it's effective.
Heβs mouthing your name.
You donβt know heβs there.
Not when you come.
Not when you arch and cry out and grind down like you need him. that's the part that had him questioning whether to cross the line between you two. (like it still existed at this point).
Not even when he bites his lip to keep from groaning when he follows a few seconds later, panting through his teeth, hand wet with heat and want.
He stays there.
Just for a second.
Watching you come down.
Watching the soft, fluttery way your fingers tremble.
Then he slips away into the dark.
You never see him. But you did see the mysterious milky white liquid left dripping on your door handle when you left to go wash your hands.
He secretly followed you the whole time till you went to bed, then called it a night himself.
But in the morning? His dick is already poking out through the sheets, leaving him to beat it again. Then a flash of memory while he was in the showerβrock hard again. Then the memory of how you smelled when you gave him hugs, that little twitch your eye does when you smile, poor boy couldnβt handle it anymore.
I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT FAIRIES. AND BUGGY. AND BUGGY WITH A FAIRY.
IT'S BEEN WEEKS AND I CAN'T STOP.
WC: ~1.4k
Warnings: nsfw, possibly dubcon, buggy x f!reader, fairy!reader, reader is held captive, size difference, idk exhibitionism + voyeurism, some degradation, slight praise, masturbation - reader and buggy, fingering (sorta), facial (sorta).
"What a fucking nuisance," Buggy grumbled as he carried you away.
The hammering of your fists and cries of protest did nothing to deter the captain or his stormy march.
"β¦a pain in my ass for three damn days. Screwing up everything, practically fell overboardβ¦"
His seething continued as he listed every real and perceived sleight he attributed to your mere presence. Buggy finally fell silent when you two reached his quarters. He set you down on his desk and stared.
And inside the small birdcage, you stared back.
You were small, although maybe bigger than he expected. Buggy held up a gloved hand and closed one eye. Then opened it again because that did nothing. Ignoring the wings, you were almost the same size as his hand.
Spreading his fingers and moving his open hand directly in front of you and your sneer, Buggy decided that you were plenty small, even with the wings. You must have been caught in a gust of wind and too stupid to properly hide your presence.
"Maybe I should feed you to Richie."
Yet again, your cries and pleas had no effect. You stamped your tiny bare feet and grabbed at the wooden bars of the cage, shaking with all your might. All Buggy could hear was the sound of the small creaks from the flexing reeds and the notable absence of the insults you were hurling his way.
He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it. Then listened again.
"β¦nothing." He shrugged with a grin before walking away. Whatever fairies talked about wasn't meant for human ears.
The birdcage sat on the edge of Buggy's desk, almost entirely ignored. He remembered to drop in bits of food and water, but you were no better than unwanted decor. Just a trinket he planned to sell at the next port.
Buggy was surprised with how quickly your tirades and pity-parties yielded to regret, acceptance, then curiosity. You were small and your emotions must be even smaller.
Sometimes, in the chilly, quiet mornings, he noticed you talking. A barely-there sound was carried by the air, so light that just the weight of listening would overcome it. Meanwhile, your little hands would gesture and your wings would flap, moving to the beat of your silent conversation.
One late, late night, Buggy heard it. Just for a moment, until your little voice was lost to the muffled surf outside the ship. But he knew it was you. And it was different.
He walked over to your cage, half-expecting you to be dying. It would be his kind of luck.
In the dim cabin light, he saw you kneeling on the wicker floor and breathing heavy, but instead of death throes, Buggy caught you succumbing to a different type of fit. One that involved your hand between your legs.
The expression on your flushed face was so plainly obvious that Buggy couldn't help but laugh. "You little freak!" Buggy wheezed.
Sheepishness and embarrassment flitted behind your half-lidded eyes.
"What a little pervert. Look at you, too horny to stop touching yourself." He giggled and leaned closer to get a better look.
You shivered with his approach, riding the tingle of nerves until you were riding your hand. You rolled your hips and squeezed your thighs while a warm, heavy breath fell into the cage.
"C'mon, let me see."
The surprised flutter of wings brought out another laugh from the pirate. Seeing this type of action wasn't new for Buggy, but he was still curious about what was going on under that dress you wore.
"Just a look, honey. A little peek, hm? Let the ol' captain see how good you're doing?" he coaxed with a smile, nodding slowly as his words ended.
You got up on your knees and spread your legs, resting them between the reeds that made up your floor. With one hand, you held up the thin fabric of your dress. That was the only garment in the way of either of your desires. Now your other hand, which was busy rubbing quick, small circles, was in clear view.
But it wasn't enough for Buggy. He had leaned in so close that his nose bumped into the cage. He swore under his breath, earning another twitch from your wings.
Oh.
"I've never seen such a little slut," Buggy teased.
Your wings stiffened and stopped moving.
"Ahh, so you are a fucked up fairy, hm? A pervert pixie? A nympho?"
For a moment, he thought he heard you responding. Agreeing. Your mouth was moving, but for all he knew, you could be moaning nonsense.
"Come closer, let me help," Buggy said, sticking his finger between the bars of the cage. "You want me to help, don't you?"
Fuck, Buggy didn't expect to have such a physical reaction to you shuffling towards him while still on your knees. He palmed his growing erection through his underwear, soothing it with pressure. Meanwhile, he watched as you brought yourself to your feet, in front of his finger.
He curled the digit, inviting you even closer. One small step. And another. Your knees were practically shaking. You hadn't stopped touching yourself for even a second.
"Move," Buggy mumbled, pushing his finger forwards to replace your hand.
You gasped - he assumed - and grabbed onto him with both free hands. He wiggled slightly, feeling the wetness between your legs. His fingertip dragged along your slit, rubbing everything.
Without being prompted, you pulled up your dress again, letting Buggy see how your pussy hugged the tip of his finger. How your bush sat on top, so prettily. How you were able to grind against him and rub into his fingerprint. How much wetter he could make you.
Buggy watched, stuck between observation and obsession. He was captivated. Although his own hand couldn't match the pace of your hips, he touched himself to the slow beat of your wings. When they were spread wide and twitching in anticipation, his hand was wrapped tightly around the base of his cock.
A pinch from your tightening grip was the first sign. Your hand squeezed as you tried to stay upright, but the desire bottled inside you had become far too much pressure to hold. With an audible cry, you slumped forwards onto Buggy's finger, legs trembling and wings utterly useless.
He could still feel your intentional movements against him. Your ass wiggled as you rode out the orgasm, desperate to enjoy every moment of it. And at the end, you looked up at Buggy with the dopiest grin on your face. Utterly and completely content.
"F-fuck-"
Buggy hastily lowered you off his finger and back onto the floor of the birdcage.
"Look at me, again. Just like that," he huffed before licking what little wetness you left on his fingertip.
Buggy barely needed your eyes on him. A few strokes were all it took to spill his load. With his tip pressed against a gap in the cage, he aimed for you, intent on coating you in cum.
He made a mess. Besides one shot that landed on paperwork near the cage, most ended up on tiny target. You were drenched. Covered in the hot, viscous liquid. It clung to everything - soaking into your hair, staining your clothes, weighing you down entirely.
It was vulgar.
Some must have gotten into your mouth and you clearly didn't appreciate the flavor. Buggy couldn't blame you - he also found his cum too bitter and sour, probably from all the drinking. Still, he couldn't hold back the laughter when you spit out the offending goo.
His crinkled eyes were met with that same stupid expression that had tipped him over the edge. One of amusement and satisfaction. You said something that went nowhere, yet again.
Buggy sighed. A hint of honeysuckle lingered on his tongue, a taste of air and sweetness.
"...I could use a freak like you on my crew. A show like that could be real profitable," Buggy mused out loud before walking towards the bathroom for some towels. It wasn't an offer, but it wasn't a demand either. Not yet.
Later, while Buggy laid in bed with empty balls and an empty head waiting to fill with dreams, another unexpected sound came from his desk. One that carried clearly before it dissolved in the darkness.
Iβm not coming at you or trying to be rude, but youβre a lesbian writing self indulgent smut abt mj? Can you explain to me how that works from one lesbian to another? π
ofccc ! being a lesbian doesn't stop me from thinking mj is handsome , so i chose to write about him ! (also im obsessed with him and decided to write about him lmao) i also don't believe that being lesbian doesn't stop me from writing about men , even if im not attracted to them xoxo . not 2 worry though, some lesbian writing coming soon because majority of my writing is for the girls and the gays !! :3
Iβm not coming at you or trying to be rude, but youβre a lesbian writing self indulgent smut abt mj? Can you explain to me how that works from one lesbian to another? π
ofccc ! being a lesbian doesn't stop me from thinking mj is handsome , so i chose to write about him ! (also im obsessed with him and decided to write about him lmao) i also don't believe that being lesbian doesn't stop me from writing about men , even if im not attracted to them xoxo . not 2 worry though, some lesbian writing coming soon because majority of my writing is for the girls and the gays !! :3
AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet AI is ruining the internet I AM SICK
synopsis:She was supposed to follow his instructions. She didn't. And Michael made her regret itβuntil the night she finally stopped fighting and started listening. One confession led to another. Now she's on her back, silk tie over her eyes, his fingers inside her, learning exactly what happens when a shy girl surrenders to a man who knows exactly what he wants.
description: Smuttttyyy
I had been working for Michael for three months, and in that time, I'd learned exactly two things about him: he was brilliant, and he was terrifying.
The first thing I noticed when I walked into his penthouse that morning was the suit hanging on the back of his office door. Charcoal gray. Three-piece. He'd left a note on the kitchen counter with a sketch of exactly how he wanted the lapels pressed, the tie knot, the pocket square fold. Precise. Demanding. Michael.
And I'd ignored it.
I told myself it was because I knew better. I'd been a stylist for five years before taking this personal assistant job. I knew how to press a fucking lapel. But the truth was simpler and uglier: I wanted to prove I didn't need his hand-drawn instructions like some kind of child. So I did it my way. Softer roll on the lapel. A different knot on the tie.
When he stepped out of the shower and saw the suit, his face went cold.
"What is this?"
I opened my mouth to explain, but he cut me off with a look that pinned me to the spot.
"I gave you specific instructions." His voice was low, controlled. The kind of quiet that made the hair on my arms stand up. "Did you think you knew better?"
"No, I justβ"
"Take it off." He pointed at the suit. "Fix it. Exactly how I asked. And if you can't follow simple directions, I'll find someone who can."
I stood there, frozen, heat crawling up my neck. He walked past me like I was furniture, bare chested and dripping, and disappeared into his bedroom. I heard the door click shut.
I fixed the suit. I did it exactly as his note specified. But he didn't thank me. He barely looked at me for the next two weeks.
It went on like that. Every small mistake I madeβa coffee that wasn't hot enough, a meeting reminder sent two minutes lateβhe'd correct me with that same flat, disappointed voice. The shy part of me wanted to shrivel up and disappear. The stubborn part wanted to punch him in his perfectly structured jaw.
Until one night, I stayed late to finish organizing his calendar for the following month. He came out of his study around eleven, still in his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and stopped when he saw me at the dining table surrounded by papers.
"You're still here."
"I wanted to get it right." I didn't look up. "I know I've been fucking up."
Silence stretched. Then he pulled out the chair across from me and sat down.
"Look at me."
I did. His eyes were dark, unreadable.
"I'm hard to work for," he said. "I know that. But I don't give instructions because I'm trying to control you. I give them because I know what I need. When you ignore them, it tells me you don't trust my judgment. And I can't work with someone who doesn't trust me."
My throat tightened. "I do trust you."
"Then start acting like it."
Something shifted in my chest. Not anger this time. Something softer and more dangerous.
That night we talked until one in the morning. He told me about the pressure of running his company, the board members who second-guessed every decision. I told him about my father, who never thought I'd make anything of myself. It was the first time he looked at me like I was a person instead of an employee.
A week later, he asked me to stay late again. This time, there was no work involved.
He poured two glasses of whiskey and handed me one.
"I was too hard on you," he said.
"You were fair."
"I was harsh because I saw potential in you." His eyes held mine. "And I didn't want to watch you waste it by being stubborn."
"I'm still stubborn."
"I know." A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. "I'm starting to like that about you."
The whiskey burned going down. The space between us felt electric.
We moved closer without deciding to. His hand came up to my jaw, thumb tracing along my cheekbone.
"I'm going to kiss you," he said. "Tell me to stop if you don't want this."
I didn't tell him to stop.
His mouth was firm and precise, just like everything else about him. One hand slid into my hair while the other gripped my hip, pulling me against him. I made a sound against his lips, something between surprise and relief.
He walked me backward until my thighs hit the edge of his desk. Papers scattered as he lifted me onto it, stepping between my legs.
"Tell me what you want."
"You." My voice came out breathless. "I want you."
He kissed down my throat while his hands worked open the buttons of my blouse. Each touch felt deliberate, measured, like he was cataloging every inch of skin he uncovered.
"Lie back."
I obeyed, letting my head rest against the cool wood of the desk. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk tieβnavy blue, the one I'd pressed for him that morning.
"I'm going to blindfold you." His voice dropped lower. "You'll feel everything more that way. Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
He folded the tie and wrapped it around my eyes, knotting it loosely at the back of my head. The world went dark and soft, every other sense sharpening.
His hands found my waistband, unbuttoning my trousers and pulling them down my legs. I heard the rustle of fabric as he knelt between my thighs.
"Spread for me."
I did. The cool air hit my bare skin, and then his mouth was on me.
The first lick was slow, deliberate, a drag of tongue from my entrance up to my clit that made my hips jerk. He held me down with a hand on my stomach while he worked me open with his mouth, alternating between broad strokes and tight circles with the tip of his tongue.
I was already wet when he slid one finger inside me. Then two. He curled them upward while his tongue kept working my clit, and I dug my nails into the desk as pleasure coiled sharp and bright in my belly.
"Michaelβ"
"Don't come yet."
His voice vibrated against me. I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper.
He kept going until I was trembling, my thighs shaking on either side of his head, and only then did he pull back.
"I want to fuck you." His voice was rough now, stripped of control. "But first I want to make you come on my fingers."
He pressed them deeper, crooked them just right, and I shattered with a cry that I couldn't hold back. He worked me through it, slow and merciless, until I was gasping and oversensitive.
The blindfold stayed on while he stood up. I heard his belt unbuckle, the zipper of his trousers.
"Hands on the edge of the desk."
I gripped it tight. He guided himself to my entrance, rubbed the head of his cock through my wetness once, twice.
"Look at you," he murmured. "So desperate for it."
"Please."
He pushed inside in one smooth stroke, filling me completely. I gasped at the stretch, at the fullness of him.
He fucked me hard against the desk, each thrust hitting deep. The blindfold made everything feel sharperβthe slap of skin against skin, his breath ragged in my ear, the way his fingers dug into my hips hard enough to bruise.
"Take it," he growled. "All of it."
I came again with his name on my lips, and he followed right after, burying himself deep with a groan that sounded almost pained.
Afterward, he untied the blindfold slowly. The light felt too bright, but his face was the first thing I sawβdark eyes soft now, lips swollen, hair disheveled.
He brushed a strand of hair from my face.
"I think we should do that again."
I laughed, breathless and wrecked.
"You think?"
He kissed me, soft this time. "Tomorrow night. My bedroom."
trust me, actors like you and jaafar know what you're doing... or not
part 1 is here, (2.7k words) 18+
jaafar was a pervert.
you had left his apartment with your clothes in his washing machine and embarrassment flooding your chest, the feeling being completely mutual. surely this wasn't what actors do?
and still, he watched you leave in his clothes and his eyes were completely on your hips.
jaafar was a pervert.
he hoped that whatever you guys did really did break the ice, and seeing you tomorrow won't be an awkward pain. deep down he wished you stayed and let him fuck you right.
it was the next morning and he had a meeting with his manager, the entire time he was getting ready he only thought of you. your sense of humor was seriously just as perfect as your tits.
god, jaafar, seriously? how about some decency...
he shakes his thoughts away, making himself blush with all the images of you that invades his mind.
this was not at all how he was raised, he was better than this.
getting in his car, he drives off to where he was meant to meet his manager, some diner place. they were going to have a lot of discussions about the upcoming scenes you two would film.
he remembers halfway through the car ride that he will surely see you again today, remembering how behind on schedule everything was and that the intimacy scene was rapidly approaching.
meanwhile you were in the shower, forgetting to move as the soft patter of the water relaxed you into thinking about the hell of an orgasm you had the night before. you didn't even know you could cum from that.
jaafar, you bastard.
where did he know he could do that?
yikes, that's your coworker. jealousy is going to be an embarrassing trait to develop for your costar, you tell yourself.
just don't think about it. right as you remember your water bill, you hear your phone ding with a notification. shutting the water off, you wrap a towel around your body and pick up your phone.
it was from your intimacy coordinator.
What do you think about a nude scene where technically you would be topless, but your chest would only face Jaafar? Like, the rest of the studio and audience would see your bare back while you acted out the penetration? So like nude for Jaafar, but really not for the rest of us. LMK.
who knew this would be your life. you think about it, it wasnt like jaafar hasn't already sucked seen them. still, you think it over while you dry yourself and apply lotion. after dressing yourself, you begin typing a response:
okay yeah, this is the best compromise. thank you, sorry for changing the scene.
after an immediate text back and assurance not to worry about it, you look at yourself in the mirror and sigh. you say "fuck it," and shoot jaafar a message too.
when
he reads it as soon as it dings through his phone.
stop by the production in an hour and then we leave together?
when you had stopped by the studio to meet up with your costar, you didn't expect the entire cast to have also been there. production didn't start filming yet, but it seemed everyone had the same idea of preparing together today. you and jaafar, despite being the leads, got unexpectedly swooped up in getting lunch with them and having the nerve to be surprised about it.
neither of you minded, this was work after all and you were blessed to say you got along with everyone in the cast. colman sat beside you as well as other members of the cast, but jaafar found himself directly sitting across from you. he tried to keep himself from zoning out, knowing that if he did, he'd look like a creep who won't stop staring at you. and really, he can't keep his eyes off you anyway, especially with the memories of last night, working.
the waiter finally appeared, and he was a white, good-looking young man, around your age range. he went around the table, asking everyone for their orders. everyone kept it casual, it was only lunch and they got things like salads and cold drinks. eventually he made his way to ask for your order.
with one last glance at your menu, jaafar watches as you hold the waiter's eye contact and curved your perfect lips to your order.
jaafar saw how the tips of his ears were red as he jotted down your order, and he decided he didn't feel like looking anymore.
the afternoon was spent with plenty of discussions about the film and everyone's schedule. production for the movie should last even up until a year or more. it was important for everyone to understand what will be going on in everyone's heads for the long run.
miles teller was in the middle of his story when you caught jaafars eyes from across you. neither of you blink or look away. jaafar, almost never not smiling, had his expression softly blank.
"y/n," he calls your name quietly enough not to interrupt miles's story and distract everyone else, "pass me the pepper, please." he asks you, despite not once looking at the container of pepper in front of you.
gently, you reach for your pepper and you extend your arm across the table. jaafar leans forward, his broad chest slightly brushing against the table cloth while he wrapped his fingers over yours to take the pepper from you. letting go, you swallow, dropping your gaze to your food as jaafar seasoned his food while his finger tips burned with sensation.
not too long after, everyone decides to get in their cars to part ways. jaafar didn't even have to remind you that you were leaving with him when his hand hovered behind the small of your back, not quite touching you, but you felt it.
getting in the passenger seat, you tilt your head at jaafar when he starts his car. "i read the scene again last night," you start, that gets his attention, his soft eyes drifting to settle on you. you hope he wasn't a reckless driver. "we're going to need to shred a few layers off today." you laugh slightly, unsure what you find actually funny.
jaafar was practically blushing, his lips pursed together to keep himself from shyly smiling, but it sure did reach his eyes. "you wear a dress in the scene, right?"
"mhm."
he looks away from you, pulling out of the driveway when he says "i dont exactly have a dress for you back at my place."
"we can go back to mineβ"
"nah," he charmingly interrupts, unable to wipe that stupid grin off his expression, "i'll buy you one real quick."
he didn't want you to get out of his car when he quickly ran into a shop to get you a dress, you didn't understand his reasoning behind it but you didn't ask anyway, just obeying.
the five minutes you were left alone in the car being the only breath of air you were able to get, unsure why your body refused to function properly around him.
probably because he managed to milk you dry without even pressing his skin against yours.
every time you looked at his sweet, innocent face, you remembered just how he buried them between your tits. you need some water.
what you never come to find out was that he wanted to keep you in the car to hide you from all the asshole boyfriends who were in the store shopping with their woman, knowing that if he brought you in, he'd grow insecure at all the eyes he was sure that would be on you.Β
he'd be jealous.
he didn't come to terms with that yet, and he won't for a while. you worked with him, no matter what else he thought about you.
you were here to get paid.
reaching his car, he folds his sunglasses off and places it in a compartment. his mannerisms were so polite toward just about anything. "here," he hands you the small bag that was supposed to carry the dress, "i just picked the first one i saw, i don't know if you'll like it butβ¦"
you pull the dress out, the thin material pooling between your fingers.
"shouldn't matter too much, right?" he curves his eyebrows at you, watching your expression attentively.
"jaafar this is⦠one hell of a scandalous night gown."
honest mistake, truly.Β
truly.
β¦
"do you feel me?" jaafar drags your wrist closer, your pointer finger pressing against the hard indent of his cock.
"mmmhβ¦" you nod, blinking up at him, opening your hand to squeeze him against his pants. he throws his head back, "d'you want me to free you?" you so very thoughtfully ask, jaafar couldn't believe your kindness. quickly he remembers you were acting, that this was what you both do. act.
he needed to take advantage of this.
covering both his hands over his face, his curly hair was disheveled while he leaned his hips closer to you. "yes, please," he groans into his palms.
you lick the roof of your mouth, thirsty while you pull his dick out. he was unexpectedly thick, and fucking long. he was embarrassed, he couldn't bring himself to see his dick right by your face like this.
you tugged on his cock and he leaned further back on the couch, hands still over his face as he whimpered. you guide him to your lips, kissing his tip. he drops his hand from his face, his forehead slightly glistening with sweat.
you start giving him small kitten licks, not looking away from the pleading look on his face until you slowly begin gaping your mouth open wider. jaafar is sure he'll die on this couch.
one things for sure, he did right by getting you that nightgown. the straps were so thin and you were just so focused on fucking him with your mouth, it slid down your shoulder and completely exposed your left breast.
swirling your tongue around his base, his hips buck upward in an unexpected spasm, his dick nudging the back of your throat. "ahhham so sorry, sweetie." he stammered. you pull away, a string of saliva still connecting you to him until it breaks off when you start pumping him.
his thighs were meaty, thick ones that were pressed against the sofa, you drag his pants all the way down to his ankles. "y/nβ¦" he seemed depraved, absolutely ruined. it was nothing but a little bit of head, it confused you slightly. surely, you didn't carry that much influence over him.
acting, don't get over your head now.
not a single moment in the intimacy script needed you guys to do any of this.Β
no, no, you guys were just warming up. this was a warm up.
ready to put him in your mouth again, he grips the front pieces of your hair, pushing your head back before you can do so. "no, i'm sorry, i cant." he's so ashamed, he can't even look at you, staring down at himself.
"it's only a blow jβ"
"i know, i know. i'm sorry," he grips his cock, slowly stroking himself when he looks at you. "it's just different when i'm the one working on youβ¦ i'm just," he pauses looking for the word, you don't miss the fact he said 'working', "i'm just shy. this isn't normal for me." he admits, deciding the truth is the only thing he can spout out. "and you're just so beautifulβ¦" he says that part is significantly quieter than everything else.
you couldn't believe what you were hearing. you couldn't seriously make him feel this way?
"jaafarβ"
"look, it's justβ-this doesn't feel like i'm acting or anything. it feels like i tricked my way into getting head from you." he usually never interrupts you. he was a boy who was raised properly and extensively through discipline, but it seemed that when he was overly flustered, stimulated even, that he couldn't help himself.
you sit there for a moment, just on your knees and your 'dress' barely even reaching mid-thigh. slowly, as jaafar eagerly waiting for your next move, you ride your eyes back up to his face. he was still so painfully hard, you grab his length, replacing his hand with yours again. "so," unsure what came over you, you quickly lick the precum spouting from his tip, "let me give you head�"
he doesn't respond at all, but you can tell from his demeanor just how much that took him by surprise.
generously, he lasted about a little over a minute in your mouth. he came so hard, he was actually tired. for a moment he believed you were a vampire who showed up to suck the life out of him. "you're a witchβ¦"
you smile, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. you get up, and he looks up at you and then your exposed chest, which he can't bear to see alone. he grabs it when you sit on top of him, ignoring his already rock-hard dick again. "can i cast a few more spells on you then?"
he was so easily flustered by you, it was adorable to see. he grinned ear to ear and nodded. "okay," his hands slide down the curves of your waist, landing on your ass. he grips it, flesh pressing between his fingers when you catch him in a kiss. it was so hot in his room, your skin barely starting to stick to the others. his tongue was warm as it slid past your lips, you slid your hands under his tight-fitting white shirt and felt his built, toned body. you felt him up and down, shivers almost erupting down his body.
slightly, though only slightly, you pick yourself up from off his lap, and jaafar rushes.
he hooks his thumbs on your panties and immediately pushes it down. he wasn't even able to fully get it off you, he let it rest just above your knees when he chased his hands back to your ass and spreads. the sudden breeze that kissed your sopping pussy made you whimper, arching your exposed tits to press against his covered chest.
dragging his middle finger down your folds while still spreading you open, jaafar tries to look over your shoulder to see the view, but you force his shirt off him before he could.
attaching your lips back to his, you notice how significantly wetter his mouth had gotten just in these few seconds, you place your hand on his neck and pull slightly on his hair. you were so good at distracting him and shifting his attention.
he hugs you closer to him, skin to skin aside from the useless nightgown that was now bunched up around your stomach.
jaafar was still so hard, his dick laid up on his stomach. you pull away, "you're so fake." you tell him, out of breath while you buck your hips to his cock and draaaggg your pussy on it.
"what do you mean?" there it was, that puppydog look. based on his expression and sincere tone that broke when your pussy came in contact with his cock, he seemed genuinely worried you could be mad at him. despite literally using his cock to slide it against your clit.
look, he wasn't thinking straight.
"you're not as innocent as you let on, you know." you squeal when he fixes his dick to have you accidentally slide it in yourself, the stretch sudden and you clench around him immediately, he groans, dropping his forehead to your shoulder and squeezing his eyes. "see." you gasped, clenching and unclenching as you get used to his size.
"i'm sorryβ" he open-mouth moaned when you started moving up and down on his cock. his head is thrown all the way back and you grip his jaw, making him look at you while you fucked yourself. the tips of his eyebrows curved upwards, he wore a pleading expression.
you get the feeling that this wasn't what your director meant when he wanted you guys to break the ice.
>
hey guys i think it would be interesting if i dragged this out into multiple parts and wrote out them officially acting out the sex scene, lmk if thats something you guys would wanna see (part 1)
(please read) i had a shocking amount of people commenting on the first part asking for a part 2 while other goats were commenting and being angels, i wasnt sure whether to add everyone to the taglist or not but i did anyway. please let me know if you want to be removed and/or added!!!
synopsis: you wake up with an bad ache and Michael's not there
description: smut smut smuttyyy wutyyy
You wake to sunlight filtering through the curtains, the sheets tangled around your legs. The first thing you notice is the empty space beside youβcold, untouched. Michael's side of the bed is pristine, the pillow still fluffed, no dent from his head.
You frown, reaching out instinctively, your fingers brushing the cool fabric. He must have left early. You don't remember him saying anything about leaving. A flicker of disappointment settles in your chest, but it's quickly overshadowed by the ache between your thighs.
You shift, and the sensation sharpensβa deep, pulsing throb right at your clit. You're wet already, your pussy clenching around nothing, desperate for attention. The memory of last night floods back: his cock filling you, his fingers inside you, his mouth on your skin. Your body responds instantly, heat pooling in your belly.
You roll onto your back, spreading your legs slightly, and slide a hand down your stomach. Your fingers find your clit, swollen and sensitive, and you gasp at the contact. You circle it slowly, but it's not enough. You need more. You need him.
You grab your phone from the nightstand and dial his number. It rings. Once. Twice. Three times. Voicemail.
You groan, tossing the phone aside. You try again. Same result. A third time, and this time you leave a message, your voice breathy and strained: "Michael⦠where are you? I need you. Please call me."
You wait. Ten minutes. Twenty. Your clit aches, a dull, insistent throb that makes it impossible to think about anything else. You touch yourself again, rubbing faster, but it's hollow. You want his fingers, his tongue, his cock. You want him to take control.
Finally, you hear the front door open. Your heart leaps. You sit up, pulling the sheet over your naked body, but you're too needy to care about modesty. You hear his footsteps in the hallway, and then he appears in the bedroom doorway, still in his suit from last night, looking slightly disheveled.
He raises an eyebrow when he sees you. "You're awake."
"Where were you?" you ask, your voice coming out more desperate than you intended. "I called you. Iβ"
He smirks, stepping closer. "I had to take care of something. Didn't check my phone." He stops at the edge of the bed, looking down at you. "You look needy."
"I am," you admit, your thighs pressing together. "I woke up and you weren't here, and I'm so fucking horny, Michael. My clit is aching. I need you."
He chuckles, slow and deliberate. He doesn't move to touch you. Instead, he unbuttons his jacket, shrugs it off, and drapes it over a chair. Then he sits on the edge of the bed, not close enough to touch, just watching you.
"Show me," he says.
You blink. "What?"
"Show me how much you need me. Touch yourself. I want to watch."
Your cheeks flush, but the command sends a jolt of arousal straight to your core. You hesitate for a second, then let the sheet fall away, revealing your naked body. You spread your legs, your pussy already glistening, and slide your fingers down to your clit. You rub in slow circles, your breath hitching, your eyes locked on his.
He watches, his gaze dark and hungry. He doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Just watches as you touch yourself, your hips beginning to rock against your hand.
"Faster," he says quietly.
You obey, your fingers moving quicker, the pressure building. But it's not enough. You whimper, your hand faltering. "Michael, please. I need you to touch me. I need your fingers inside me. Please."
He leans forward, finally, his hand covering yours, stopping your motion. "Beg," he says, his voice low. "Beg me to fuck you."
"I'm begging," you gasp. "Please, Michael. I need your cock. I need your mouth. I need you to eat me out until I come. Please."
He smiles, a slow, satisfied curve of his lips. "That's my good girl."
He pushes your hand away and lowers himself between your legs. His breath is hot against your wet folds, and you shiver in anticipation. He doesn't dive in immediately. Instead, he trails his fingers along your inner thigh, teasing, watching you squirm.
"Please," you whisper again.
He leans in and licks a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit. The sensation is electric, and you cry out, your back arching. He does it again, slower this time, savoring the taste of you. Then he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, his tongue flicking against the sensitive nub.
Your hands fly to his hair, gripping, pulling. He groans against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body. He slides two fingers inside you, curling them, pressing against that spot that makes your vision blur. He pumps them in rhythm with his tongue, fast and deep, and you're already close, the pressure building too quickly.
"Michael, I'm gonnaβ"
He doesn't stop. He doubles down, sucking harder, fingers thrusting deeper, and you come with a scream, your body convulsing, your juices flooding his mouth. He drinks it all, lapping at you until you're trembling and oversensitive.
He pulls back, his chin glistening, his eyes dark with hunger. He crawls up your body, positioning himself between your legs, his cock hard and pressing against your entrance.
"Now," he says, his voice rough, "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk."
Summary - While celebrating how good 'Thriller' has done, your husband finds out your mental health isn't as good as you said it was.
Tags - MDNI, selfharm, insecurity, angst, bullying (flashbacks) , fluff, smut, sub!michael, fem!reader, thriller era michael, p in v, pool sex, comfort, a 'show me' convo and dom!reader.
κ° π‘» ΰΎA note from the author - hey so this is my first requested fic so lmk if you like it! feel free to request and like i said don't be shy and request other characters <3 (ik mj isn't a character but you get the point)
Shit.
Crimson trickles down your thighs and arms, a blade in your hands. You have just relapsed and you're now realising that Michael wants to go on a swimming date. Your breath quickens, eyes widen and tears start to form. You are so stupid. "Fuck..." You whisper, putting a cloth on the angry red lines on your skin, begging it to stop bleeding. You then put on sweats and a hoodie, crawl into bed and forget the blade on your nightstand.
Michael is walking towards your shared bedroom, swimming trunks in hand and a big smile on his face. "Babe! You ready?" He calls out, coming in to see you anything but ready. You quickly morph your face into a smile, the best you can do. You're not gonna mess up this day for him. "Just a minute, I'll be ready." You smile, fake happiness seeping into your voice. He looks at you for a minute, then says: "Okay, call me back when you're ready to go!" He smiles and walks up to you to kiss your forehead. You accept it, and he walks back out.
As soon as the door slams, you jump up and pace around. What do you even do? Tell him? Show him? How do you even hide it? Questions form in your head, but answers don't.
Then it hits you. The shower. You can just stall by taking a shower, obviously. You quickly run into the bathroom and take off your clothes, fully nude. You look into the mirror and sigh. You look so bad. Your hair is greasy, teeth are crooked, arms and legs littered with healed and unhealed cuts, eyes are droopy and tired, skin is breaking out and the list could go on. You've always wondered how Michael even likes you. With reluctant steps, you walk into the shower and turn it on, water spraying you at full blast. Your injured skin screams at the impact, burning you. But you accept it. In your mind, you deserve this. So, you grab your sponge, add soap, and clean yourself. No matter how much it hurts.
Downstairs, Michael hears the shower on and decides to go upstairs and get his sunglasses. He walks up the stairs, into the bedroom and looks around. He begins searching, and starts to get confused when he can't find them. "I swear they were up here.." He mumurs, moving to your nightstand. Maybe you have them.
But what he sees isn't his glasses.
It's worse.
It's a blade, dried blood on it. From a sharpener. Why do you own this? Then it hits him. There's no way you...how did he not notice? The hoodies, the sweats, the wincing whenever he touched you, your tired eyes...it was all connected? Tears well in his eyes. He should've noticed. Helped. Was this his fault? What type of husband is he?
In the bathroom, you don't know that you've been caught. That he knows now. That he's gonna wanna see. You've finished showering, pulling on a towel, drying your skin and leaving the bathroom. Into your room you go.
Something's off.
Michael is at your nightstand, staring at something on it. You don't know what it is, but he can't stop looking at it.
He doesn't even look up when he says, "Baby, show me."
And it hits you. All of it. The hiding, the baggy clothes, the crying, the relapsing and your guilt. Your heart beats, throat goes dry, and you croak out: "What?" Absolutely pathetic. Trying to stay innocent when he's found out. Does he think you're disgusting? Hate you? Does he-
"Please, let me see. I need to see how bad you've been struggling."
His tears flow through his words, and you see tears on his face. Tears start to form in your own eyes, and you drop the towel. His eyes widen and you sob. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm the worst and I've lied and I'm sorr-" He's hugging you. Tight. Like he will never let go. "There's nothing to be sorry about." He whispers in your ear, putting his hand in your hair and rubbing your back.
"It's not your fault."
You sob louder, uncontrollably, and he keeps hold of you the whole time. Your naked body against his fully clothed form, he sits you down on the bed. He then moves next to you and holds your hand. "What made you think you deserve this?" He wonders, staring into your red and swollen eyes, caressing your hand.
You don't know how he does it, but you start to open up for the first time in years. "I've been heavily bullied my whole life. Since school. Boys and girls would hit me, punch me and refuse to talk to me. I started to hate myself after that, believing that it was my fault. I started cutting when I turned 15, after I got asked out as a joke. I'm sorry for not saying anything, I just...." You trail off, taking a deep breath. "I just didn't think you'd want an insecure wife." You finish up and look at his face. Unlike what you thought, he wasn't disgusted or mad. He was concerned and he pulled you closer rather than pushing you away. "I'm proud of you for telling me and I'm proud that you're still alive to talk to me. I will always be with you, every step of the way." He assures you, tucking a hair behind your ear. He squeezes your hand and nods. "It's not your fault people can't see how beautiful and sweet you are." He says, kissing your cheek.
"So you're not mad I ruined the celebration?" You ask, tears subsiding and guilt forming. Michael shakes his head and says: "We can still celebrate, if you want to."
You're now in a bikini, swimming in the pool in the Neverland Ranch with Michael. You decided to celebrate this happy day. You're splashing at eachother, pool water going onto your skin. It coats you and makes your skin glow under the sunlight, which Michael notices. Your body is now glowing, making you look like an angel. Seeing you like this makes him hard in his red trunks, and he tries to fight the urges.
Funnily enough, you were also fighting the urge to pounce on him, staring at his abs and trying not to make it obvious. Heat was pooling between your thighs, your breath was getting shallow. And he knew.
He swims up to you, slowly but surely getting closer. His hand snakes around your waist, a small smile on his face. "Are you sure you wanna do this?" He checks in, making sure there's consent. "Yeah, of course." You nod and say.
Your lips crash together, his hand moving to your thigh, being careful to not injure you. Feeling you up, his tongue slips into your mouth and his cock gets harder and harder. You feel his erection against your inner thigh, and he sits you on the pool's edge and kisses your arms and wrists, where you cut. "No matter what.." He whispers, his voice muffled by your skin. "You'll always be beautiful to me." His tongue swirls against your skin, being careful to not make you get hurt.
He then moves to his knees, kissing and sucking your thighs. "Baby...you're so beautiful and I'll do anything I can to make you realise that.." You arch into his touch, pulling at his hair. "Mike...I need you.." You whimper. He stands back up and nods. "I know mama, I know.." He settles in between your legs, and he's now panting into your mouth.
He tugs at your bikini bottoms and pulls them down. "Can I please you today, mami?" He asks, staring at your pussy hungrily. You nod, and he pulls his trunks down. "I've been needing you so bad..." He whimpers, pumping his cock a few times before slowly going into you. His eyes roll back and your back arches against him, legs opening wider to take all 8 inches of him in.
He slowly thrusts in and out, pool water splashing around the both of you. He begins to whimper, you begin to moan. "Mike...it's too much.." You mewl, but he begs to differ. "Mama, take me...please.." He slowly goes faster, stretching you deliciously. His tip hits your cervix, your body shaking.
Water is splashing and falling, moans are echoing. Orgasms are forming and both of you can't hold back anymore.
"Mike, I'm gonna...!" You hold onto his shoulder, biting your lip. He nods. "I know, I know. Cum on me, baby." He pants.
You shatter, a cry coming from your throat, legs shaking and juices gushing out of you. He pulls out and cums into the water, panting.
