i am literally BEGGING for a future man/mike in a muzzle like that one scene
i LOVE the way u think anon. my brain is fried so it took awhile to think abt a story for this so im sry if its lowk kinda bad
warnings: smut(mdni!), porn with barely any plot, blowjob, handjob, p in v, sub!josh, semi public, muzzle
- - - -
"are you fucking hard right now?"
you couldn't believe what you were seeing. or even why, for that matter.
it was supposed to be just blending in at a strip club. your mission was to seduce a certain man in this timeline, to get him away from getting accompanied and meeting another guy. you and tiger would dress as strippers, pretend to be workers, and josh, accompanied with wolf, would pretend to be regulars, just to help the mission go smoothly and make sure you girls didn't get the wrong attention.
what you were wearing, however, did get attention. in josh's pants.
he didn't see what you were wearing until he got into the club with wolf, seeing you next to tiger, trying to look like you weren't nervous. he scanned every inch of your body.
he knew he shouldn't be thinking of you like this. you were his friend. he shouldn't be looking at his friend, eyes full of lust, wondering how good it'd feel to have your hips bouncing back and forth on his cock.
he shouldn't be looking at your outfit, scanning your thighs and how plush they looked against your tight outfit. he shouldn't be looking at how your outfit hugged your hips and chest, breasts threatening to spill out.
he knew you had to wear this outfit to blend in, but fuck, it made his job hard. his dick, too. he tried to shift around, his erection twitching in his pants whenever he saw you.
he had to take care of this. now.
he walked up to you, looking nervous as ever.
“dude, we gotta go. now. need help.” he looked at you. you looked back at him, confused. what was going on with him? he had been staring at you the whole time you were here. did you do something? was he trying to start something? what was-
then you looked down.
oh.
“are you fucking hard right now?” you asked him.
he looked down, almost in shame. he didn’t say anything.
something clicked in your brain. he had come up to you, all desperate and in need.
you were the one in control now.
you smiled.
“i gotta tell tiger i’m talking to someone. i’ll help you josh.” you traced his jawline with your finger as you walked away to find tiger to tell her you wouldn’t be in the main room for awhile, to which she nodded. you came back, a mischievous grin on your face.
“let’s go to my car, i’ll take care of you.” you whispered in his ear. he felt his erection get even harder, if that was even possible. he needed a release. now.
the car was too far away. “need help. now. can’t get t’ the car.” he whimpered.
you swayed your hips as you and him kept walking outside the strip club. you had an idea.
“well, you’ll just have to be a good boy and be quiet, then.”
he swore he almost came in his pants when you said that.
“yes, i’ll be a good boy. i can be quiet. i’ll be such a good boy for you. promise.” he whimpered as you walked to a nearby abandoned alleyway. sure, it was public, but the car was so far away. you wanted this now, too. you couldn’t wait either.
your hand lightly traced over his throbbing erection in his pants, to which he let out a loud whimper.
“are we gonna have a problem with noise?” you cooed, tracing his cock with your fingers. he shook his head, determined.
“please, no, we won’t. i-i’ll be a good boy.” he whimpered quietly, grinding into your hand. “please, just touch me.”
your hand dipped into his pants as he leaned against the wall if the alleyway. he could feel his member twitch once you ever so slightly touched it with your fingertips.
“please.” he begged as he pulled his pants and boxers down, finally giving you a look at his cock. you hate to admit that you did catch yourself staring. how could you not? it was hard and leaking precum just for you.
your hand wrapped around it, slowly pumping it, which the moans started to roll in. he couldn’t help himself. josh started moaning, trying to be as quiet as possible, but failing in the process. you quickly took your other hand and threw it over his mouth.
“since we can’t be quiet, i’ll give you a fucking way to be quiet.” you said in a low voice, reaching into a nearby box that had caught your attention earlier. it was definitely from the strip club: it had all sorts of sex toys, rope, and everything like that.
your eyes shot to one component of the box: a muzzle.
you hoped this would keep him quiet.
“what…what’re you doing?” he asked as you picked up the muzzle from the box.
“well, good boys are able to be quiet. good boys don’t have to be restricted.”
“good boys.” you continued as you snapped the muzzle on his face. “don’t have to be told to be quiet. like you have to.”
he tried to argue, but could barely be heard because of the muzzle. your hand went back down to his aching cock.
“now, you’re gonna be a good boy and you’re gonna be quiet for me. understood?” you stated as you started slowly pumping your fist down his length.
he nodded vigorously.
“good. now let me play with this pretty cock.” you started to quicken your pace, your thumb rubbing over his tip every now and them, making him see stars. he started to thrust his hips into your hand, practically using it as a fleshlight.
as you kept pumping your fist around him, his thrusts got even faster, more desperate. he started to moan softly.
“are you close, pretty boy?” you asked, not slowing down on your attack to his cock. he nodded. you took your hand away from his length, to which he whined at.
“sit down on the floor.” you demanded, which he immediately listened to, spreading his legs as he sat. you sat down on him, clothed cunt on top if his pulsing cock.
“want me to fuck you? want me to ride and bounce on your cock until you cum in my pussy?” you asked. he nodded, trying to make noice through the muzzle, but to little success.
thankfully, you got the message, taking everything off. your sopping pussy resting on his cock, begging to be filled.
“i’ll fuck you. fuck your fucking brains out. m’ gonna make you cum so hard josh.” you said, lining up yourself with his cock, resting the tip against your entrance.
he started whining more and more, desperate to be inside of you.
“fine, i’ll give you what you fucking want.” you said, taking his cock in one go, getting all the way to the base. you had to admit, that felt really fucking good. you wouldn’t be surprised if you came soon as well.
you started to get into a rhythm, bouncing up and down, grinding on his cock. you had to stop yourself from making loud moans, trying your best to conceal them under strings of curses. the way his cock hit every spot inside you made you feel like you were in heaven. his cock fit perfect into your tight walls, like a hand in a glove.
you felt him start to thrust up into you, catching you off guard. you let out a whimper, barely being able to contain yourself. you started to ride him faster, feeling your orgasm quickly approaching.
“josh, shit. m’ gonna cum. fuck.” you whispered. he let out a quiet moan through the muzzle, letting you know he was close too. “gonna cum on your cock.”
after one thrust in particular, he hit a certain spot in you, one that made you lean into his shoulder to muffle your moans as you came, your tight walls suffocating his cock, practically begging for him to release. after a few sparratic thrusts, he came, oozing cum into your cunt. he moaned. loud.
once you both had caught your breaths, you lifted yourself up, watching the mix of cum gush out of your sopping cunt. you took the muzzle off of his face, holding his cheek.
“you okay? i know that was a little rough.” you asked, hoping you didn’t cross any lines.
“god that was so fucking hot. holy shit. i loved that.” he smiled, sitting up straight and pulling up his boxers. “you’re so hot. thank you so much.”
“you’re not too bad yourself. i wouldn’t be opposed to doing that again some other time.” you smiled at him, putting your outfit back on.
“next time please sit on my face.” he offered. you looked back at him. he was serious. you were caught a bit off guard.
“u-uh, sure. i’d love that.” you helped him up, buckling his pants back. “we gotta get back, though.” you planted a kiss on his cheek as you took his hand back into the strip club.
.
.
“finally! where the hell have you been? thought we lost you.” tiger threw her hands up in exasperation, looking at you. she looked down, seeing hand prints bruising by your thighs.
“someone get a little busy?” she asked in a mocking tone.”
“oh, you have no idea.” you replied with a dopey smile.
- - - - - - - - -
a/n: sry this is kinda short :p had a bit of a dom reader today. hope this wasnt too bad!!
Summary: You are Josh’s girlfriend and as a birthday gift he takes you to Paris.
Tags: fluffly, romantic, a bit sassy, mention to sex.
English is not my first language so please ignore any mistakes ❤️
Word count: 2.5K
"Cabin crew, prepare for landing," a deep voice reverberated through the airplane's PA system, waking me up. It was followed by an announcement with instructions on how we should prepare for landing: fasten seatbelts, open window shades, and return seats to the upright position.
The flight attendants then appeared in the aisle, checking each passenger to ensure everything was in order for landing. Still sleepy, I adjusted my seat to the upright position and fastened my seatbelt. Despite having spent almost 11 hours on the plane, I didn’t feel tired at all—the business class was indeed extremely comfortable.
I was as happy as a child about to go on their favorite ride at the amusement park; my heart was pounding in my chest, and I was grinning like an idiot. I turned to the side, looking for Josh's eyes.
"Good morning, baby," he said, smiling at me in that way that could make me melt in a second. "Did you sleep well?"
"I slept wonderfully," I replied, beaming.
"That's great. Ready?" he asked, squeezing my hand.
"Ready," I said, smiling.
Our faces drew close for a quick kiss, and when our lips touched, I felt that warm sensation in my heart that no other guy had ever been able to give me before. Oh, I was completely in love with him, more and more every day.
"Crew, take your seats for landing," the pilot's voice returned.
I squeezed Josh's hand tighter, eagerly anticipating the days to come. This trip was his birthday gift to me, something I had dreamed of since the beginning of our relationship a few years ago. As the years passed, my love for him only grew stronger.
The plane descended gradually, and I felt a slight flutter in my stomach every time we lost altitude. Amazed, I watched out the window as we passed through the clouds. I felt Josh's face close to mine, also looking out the window with appreciation.
Then the clouds disappeared, and I saw the ground just dozens of meters below us. My heart beat faster and faster, so excited to finally be arriving. Quickly, those few dozen meters separating us from the ground dwindled down to just a few meters, then a few centimeters, and finally, the plane touched down, smooth and precise. I felt the force that pushed my body back into the seat as we sped down the runway, until the speed gradually decreased.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Paris! The local time is 8:13 AM, clear skies, and a temperature of 19°C. We hope you had an excellent flight! Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened until the aircraft has come to a complete stop and the seatbelt sign is turned off. Once again, thank you for choosing American Airlines."
"We're in Paris!" I smiled at Josh with the excitement of a little girl.
"We're in Paris," he replied, laughing. Oh, he looked so handsome when he laughed. Unable to contain myself, I pulled him in for a kiss. "Thank you for this gift, my love."
"I love you," he said, caressing my cheek.
"I love you more."
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"What do you want to see first?" Josh asked as I finished getting ready. He was lying on the bed, enjoying the macarons left as a welcome gift from the hotel.
Our suite was simply spectacular, with a stunning and refined appearance. It was all decorated with elegant and sophisticated furniture, like leather armchairs, ornate coffee tables, and carefully selected artwork. Everything in neutral tones of beige, white, and ivory, complemented by golden accents to add a touch of opulence.
"I have no idea, there are so many places to visit! But maybe the Eiffel Tower first?"
"That's an excellent choice," he replied, grabbing his phone and heading to the balcony.
I put my things in my bag and looked at myself in the mirror. For my first day in Paris, I had chosen a black-and-white plaid skirt and jacket set, typical of a cliché Parisian movie. I wore a black turtleneck underneath, sheer black tights and a pair of black boots. My hair was loose. I felt beautiful.
I saw Josh's reflection in the mirror, approaching me and then wrapping his tender hands around my waist. He looked at me with admiration.
"Baby, you look stunning," he said, leaving a soft kiss on my neck, which sent sweet shivers down my spine.
"You're not looking too bad yourself," I teased.
The truth is, he looked wonderful. He wore dark-wash jeans and a green sweater that made him incredibly attractive. I loved it when he wore green.
"You prefer to see me without wearing anything at all, don't you? I know," Josh said mischievously. His fingers went to my chin, turning my face toward him. He then enveloped my lips with his, kissing me with desire. I allowed myself to savor him for just a few seconds before breaking the kiss.
"Come on, Paris is waiting! We'll save the indecency for later," I said, teasing. Of course, I would love to make love to him in that luxurious hotel room, but we had the whole night for that. At that moment, all I wanted was to walk in the streets of the most romantic city in the world with my love.
"So 'we' to you is indecency? Oh, [your name], tonight I'll show you what indecency really is," he threatened, but soon smiled. No matter how much Josh tried to play the 'bad guy,' he could never keep up the act for long. He was naturally good.
"I can't wait," I replied, mysteriously. "Let's go!" I said, grabbing his hand and leading him to the door. Paris was waiting for us.
══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════
The Parisian air envolved us with its fresh temperature as soon as we left the hotel. We walked for a few minutes, always accompanied by the Tower that stood imposingly in front of us, growing larger with every step. We crossed the Seine River, walking across the bridge that ended right in front of it. We stopped for a few photos.
"You look incredibly beautiful, but I think there's a little detail missing from your look," Josh said, paying attention to something happening to his left.
He let go of my hand and went to a guy displaying his products for sale on a cloth spread out on the bridge's railing. I watched as he talked to the vendor. It didn't take long for him to return with a black piece of cloth in his hand.
He approached me and placed the cloth on my head, and I realized it was a beret. No, it wasn't just any hat—it was a French beret.
"Now you're complete," he said, giving me a peck on the lips. I laughed.
"Now I'm a true Parisian. Ma chère."
"I have no doubt about that, mon amour," Josh said, gently caressing my neck with his fingers.
We continued our journey to the top of the tower. Although it was a big dream of mine, I had never really thought about how to get there. First, we took a gigantic panoramic elevator that could hold about 30 people, and it glided up one of the four bases of the large metal structure. Then we climbed a few flights of stairs until we reached another elevator, this one more like a 'regular' elevator. When we exited this one, I could already see all of Paris below us, but there were still a few more floors to reach the top, which we climbed on foot. My heart beat faster and faster, and the thrill of being up there, 281 meters above the ground, literally within the metal framework of one of the most famous tourist spots in the world, was unique.
As soon as the steps ended, I ran toward the railing. The view from the top of the Eiffel Tower was truly incredible. I could see the entire city stretching beyond the horizon until it faded from sight. I could see the people walking along the Seine River as tiny dots in the landscape, and I saw the large buildings that looked more like projections of a well-crafted model. It was simply amazing.
Josh, who was beside me, seemed equally captivated by the view. Moving closer to him, I rested my head on his shoulder.
"Thank you for the gift."
He wrapped his arms around me. I could have stayed there forever, just him, me, and that breathtaking view.
"I'm glad you're enjoying it, but this is just the beginning. There's still so much to see and do," he said in a soft voice.
"I know. And I can't wait to do it all with you," I replied, lifting my head to look into his eyes.
"I can't wait either," he concluded thoughtfully. "How about we go eat now? I'm starving. And I have a surprise for you."
"A surprise? What is it?" I asked, curious.
"You'll see soon enough. Let's go."
Holding my hand, he led me down the stairs until we reached the floor where the last elevator had dropped us off. But instead of joining the queue to go down, we went in the opposite direction, toward an enclosed area in one corner of the tower's structure.
"Restaurant Le Jules Verne," said the sign at the entrance.
"Bonjour madame, monsieur," a girl said as we entered the place. She had blonde hair, tied up in a perfect bun, and wore impeccable makeup.
"Bonjour. Je... je... a reservation. Hutcherson," my boyfriend said in the best French he could manage, which wasn’t all that great. The girl smiled, kindly.
"Hutcherson, for 2 people, correct?" she asked, checking her tablet. I caught Josh breathing a sigh of relief for not having to continue speaking in French.
"Yes," he replied.
The girl turned to one of the waiters and handed him a pair of menus. He smiled at us and led us to our table, which was in front of a large glass wall.
The whole place had an elegant atmosphere, with sophisticated and understated decor. I quickly realized that we would be dining with a stunning view of Paris, as the restaurant was on the first floor of the Eiffel Tower.
"We're going... literally... to have lunch at the Eiffel Tower?!" I asked, ecstatic.
"Yeah," he agreed casually.
"Thank you," I said, tears welling up in my eyes. It was much more than I had ever dreamed. "Oh, I didn't know you spoke French."
"Oui mon amour. Je... je...," he paused, trying to find the words. "Parle français. Un peu."
I have to admit, he sounded very sexy speaking like that. And in the end, his accent wasn't that bad.
"Do you parle français in bed too?" I asked in a low voice, worried someone might hear me.
A mischievous smile appeared on his lips.
"In bed, I speak whatever you want, ma beauté," he replied, looking at me with desire.
I felt a warmth begin to grow inside me, and I turned my attention to the menu. This wasn't the time or place to get horny.
"What are we going to eat?" I asked, ignoring the sensations running through me.
══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════
"I think I've never eaten so well in my life," Josh said, sighing as we walked along the Seine River.
Tall trees lined our right, separating the sidewalk from the street, and a low wall to our left divided the sidewalk from the lower level where some people were jogging and exercising. The river's water shimmered with the reflection of the sun, and the mild weather and blue sky made everything even more perfect. As the Eiffel Tower receded behind us, a charming bridge came into view. Its structure seemed to be made of metal, rising in gentle arches adorned along its entire length.
"Yeah, everything was really good! A few more days of eating like this, and I'll get spoiled!" I joked.
"I think I'm already spoiled," he added. "I can't stop thinking about those macarons at the hotel. I'm going to take a suitcase full of them back to Los Angeles."
"You are something else, Josh!"
"You're the one who’s something else, [Your Name]. Sometimes I look at you and think I'm dreaming. And I'm afraid to wake up from this dream and not find you anymore," my boyfriend said seriously.
"Don't worry, I'll always be with you. Dreaming or awake," I said, taking his hand. "I will never leave you."
"It's great to know that," he concluded, holding my chin and giving me a long, slow kiss. I loved when he kissed me like that.
"Do you want to cross this bridge?" he asked when our lips parted, pointing to the metal bridge.
"Yes."
Hand in hand, we walked to the middle of the bridge and then stopped and leaned against the railing to admire the view, which was incredible. I could see the Eiffel Tower in all its glory, the boats sailing on the river below us...
"[Your Name]," his voice snapped me out of my stupor. I turned my face toward him; he was looking at the water and smiling. "I never thought I’d meet someone like you." His eyes then lifted to meet mine, and I shook my head slightly in confusion at the sudden revelation.
"Me neither, my love," I said sincerely.
"Since I met you, my life has been filled with light, joy, and love. You inspire me every day to be a better person."
I felt my heart start to pound in my chest. I could imagine where this conversation was heading.
"I love your voice, your smile, your laugh, your presence. I love every part of you that completes me in a way I never thought possible. And I want to keep living this adventure of being by your side for the rest of my life. A life to last with you."
My hands were sweating, tears that I hadn't even noticed forming were now streaming down my face, and I was trembling.
"And that's why..." His hands went to his pants pocket, pulling out a small black box. It was happening. He knelt before me, revealing a stunning ring with a solitary stone on top that sparkled brilliantly. "[Your Name], my love... will you marry me?"
The tears were flowing freely down my face, and I felt like I was floating. I looked deep into his eyes, intoxicated by his love.
"Yes!" I answered in ecstasy, without hesitation for even a second. Because the only certainty I had in life was this, that I wanted to live with him for the rest of my life.
Smiling, he placed the ring on my finger, sealing our promise of love.
When Josh stood up, my hands went straight to his hair, which I loved to stroke. He, with one hand on the back of my neck and the other around my waist, pulled me into a kiss. A kiss different from any we had shared before. This one was an intoxicating mix of desire, care, and devotion, silently sealing our decision to share a life together.
Summary: When a menacing villain, Bob Paris, enters the scene and threatens Norma Bates in search of a mysterious flash drive, she finds herself at the center of a dangerous game, fighting to protect her son at all costs. Putting their differences aside, she asks the town sheriff, Alex Romero, for help.
"I just want to protect my family, Alex" I confessed, my voice breaking at the end of the sentence, finally admitting the fear I had been suppressing.
"I know" he replied gently. "And I want that too. Even if sometimes it doesn't seem like it."
Word count: 3587
Read on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1469525360?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_reading&wp_page=reading_part_end&wp_uname=idrnkwine
Read Single chapter from the story 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 - 𝙉𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙤 by idrnkwine (Bea) with 1 reads. alexromero...
Summary: Ever since the night before, you and Derek had become best friends with benefits. Bored at a fancy rich person party, you two decide to hook up again. However, when you’re inexplicably taken out of the mood, you two decide to do something else for the night: hang out like the best friends you were.
Word Count: 2.9k
Content: 18+ content, MDNI, (graphic descriptions of) sex (awkward), cursing, mentions of drugs, (best) friends with benefits, platonic (but you can interpret it as potentially romantic), short read, reader and Derek are just best pals that fuck, slightly ooc Derek, reader is rich/famous like Derek, attempt to hook up in the bathroom at a party (end up hanging out instead), smoking, drinking, Star Wars references, very chaotic
(A/n: Dedicating this to my wifey @xcherryerim 🫶 your post awaiting this fic meant a lot to me :3)
-
Holy fuck, you wanted to gouge your eyes out.
You had a glass of wine in your hand, staring at the crowd of old, wealthy hags, sipping the drink briefly out of boredom.
You were at yet another fancy party in some rich person’s mansion, accompanied by your best friend Derek, the son of President Jessica Danforth and CEO of Danforth Enterprises. You had been good friends with him for a very long time, the two of you always stirring up trouble whenever together.
You stare down at the deep scarlet of your drink, intensely zoning out as you thought about the night before. A pair of hands caressing the skin on your thighs, legs tightening around hips, wrists held above your head, and loud, sultry moans and sounds filling the room.
And then you snapped out of it as you felt a tap on your shoulder. You looked up to see exactly him—Derek.
“This party is ass,” you grumble to him, taking a sip from your drink.
“I know,” he replies, sipping his. “Any luck with finding investors?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I have people doing that for me,” you scoff.
“Right,” he nods.
“Any luck with convincing some poor girl to invest in crypto?” You ask, looking at him as you raise an eyebrow.
“Nope,” he answers with a sigh, but a smile was plastered on his face.
You chuckled at his reply. “Hah. I’m not surprised. Crypto is fucking ridiculous.”
“Hey, fuck you.”
“Hm, you already did. What, once isn’t enough for you?” you retort quickly, sneering.
Derek’s eyes widened in response, frantically looking around to see if anyone heard you, then whispered, “Would—Would you be quiet?” He stressed under his breath. “Don’t say that fucking shit out loud, what if somebody heard?”
Last night didn’t really mean to happen. Like the close friends you were, you hung out with Derek at his mansion as you regularly do. However, one thing led to another because of a bottle of pinot noir and the unfortunate appearance of a sex scene in a movie you two watched together. Accordingly, you woke up sore the next morning. You two had established that it was just hooking up, no strings attached—but nobody could know about your arrangement. Not your friends, not your co-workers, and especially not Derek’s mother. While he was known for being promiscuous, the press couldn’t find out that Derek had hooked up with you, not only a good friend of Derek, but someone who was well known in the media due to their wealth.
You roll your eyes carelessly as flashes from last night began to cloud your mind. His fast breaths, his body, his skilled hands. Yet you shook it off easily. “Oh, come on, Derek, these old, ancient fucks can’t hear shit.” An old woman looked at you in disapproval after hearing you swear, walking away from you. “Okay, well, she heard that, but nobody’s gonna know! Don’t get your fuckin’ Louis Vuitton boxers in a twist.”
“They’re not—” he huffs in annoyance. You weren’t taking this seriously, which ultimately frustrated him; your carelessness reminded him too much of himself. “Y/n, who knows what’ll happen if anyone finds out? Like, you know I have to keep my fucking reputation up, and you do too. I don’t think there’s anything Wallace could do if the press found out we hooked up.”
You pause briefly until a smirk creeps up onto your lips in realization. “You regret it, don’t you?”
“No, of course I don’t regret it,” he answers immediately. Not regretting it was clearly an understatement. He really enjoyed last night, every second, every feeling. So he was slightly confused as to why you even doubted him. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s just—” you stutter out, “I woke up and you were gone, you know.” You mutter as you took out a cigarette, placing it into your mouth and lighting it.
His mouth went dry and he pursed his lips promptly. “I had to be at Danforth Enterprises,” he says, watching you exhale the smoke from your cigarette.
“Yeah, well, you could’ve sent me a text or written a note,” you shrug. “Like, it’s your house, dude. I was supposed to be the one leaving the morning after, not you.”
“Right, sorry,” he says simply. “Force of habit.” —It was true; he had an infamous history of one-night stands.
“Plus, I’m your best friend,” you reason. “I don’t want this to, like, ruin everything we had. Like, you’re still my buddy to me.”
He looked at you with a slightly amused grin. “Hey, nothing’s gonna change between us, alright? As you said, you’re my best friend, and it’s always gonna stay that way.” You chuckled, offering him a smile as you heard his response. He could be sentimental whenever he wanted. “Look, the day our friendship will ever change is the day I’ll shut down UDG and Nine Star. Which is basically, like, fucking never. Don’t worry about it.” Even as he said the last sentence, this could be interpreted in two different ways. The first one is that he’d never be in some sort of greater relationship with you, likewise his reluctance to stop scamming. The second one, however, implies that if he ever got into something serious with you, a moral obligation will arise, forcing him to shut down his unethical phishing companies just for you. Right. That sounded ridiculous. It was definitely not the latter.
The two of you both took a sip of your drink in unison.
“But, like,” he began, swirling his glass of wine in his hand engagingly, “Is this gonna be, like, a regular thing?”
You raise an eyebrow curiously after taking a sip of your own. “Like, hooking up?” He nods. “I mean… Whatever happens, happens.”
“Uhh, how do you mean?”
“Like, if it was a one-time thing, so be it. But if it’s gonna become regular, then also so be it,” you took a drag of your cigarette. “Doesn’t really matter. We can just, like, do whatever we want. Nothing has to be all predetermined. If we feel like fucking, then we’ll fuck. If not, then great, another day of walking normally.”
“Right,” he says.
You were bored.
So fucking bored.
You dressed all fancy for nothing, you feel. You were obligated to go the same reason Derek had: your wealthy, famous status. But it was so underwhelming and useless, even. As long as you made an appearance, then that should’ve been enough for everybody.
You put out your cigarette and finish your wine, nearly chugging it.
“Hey,” you tap on Derek’s shoulder, making him turn around to look at you after he had been gazing at a potential crypto girl. “Wanna do a quickie in this rich loser’s bathroom?”
He raises an eyebrow in interest.
***
You were held up against the wall of the bathroom, legs wrapped around Derek’s hips as his hands held you by your thighs, pounding his cock in and out of you at a fairly quick pace. Your hands held onto his arms and your chin rested on his shoulder tiredly as the occasional skin slapping against skin sound echoed in the room, hearing Derek grunt with almost every thrust.
You felt slightly uncomfortable and awkward. Like, you weren’t really aroused. It felt… dry? You didn’t know what you meant by that, but the friction was just… unsatisfying. He was grazing your walls in a way that just made it feel like burning, increasing your discomfort. But at least he looked like he was enjoying this. Good for him, you guessed.
This never happened before, so it was sort of… really weird to you, to say the least.
To be honest, you were kind of bored. Like, really bored. How the hell were you still bored? You temporarily escaped an old rich people party to have rigorous sex in their bathroom with your best friend, but you were still bored.
“Shit…” you mutter, disgruntled, as he moved consistently inside you, the burning sensation catching up with you. “What the fuck? Why does—ow—Why the fuck is this hurting?”
Derek pulls his head away from your shoulder and looks at you in concern, his dick still inside of you. “Are you okay? Should I go slower?” He offers, raising an eyebrow as he searched for hesitance in your eyes, then looking you up and down.
“Yeah, sure, okay,” you nodded. “It’s whatever, just—just keep going,” you dismiss in a low murmur. As he starts again at a slower pace, you still had an uncomfortable expression on your face. He was moving his hips but all you felt was mere irritation.
“Okay, what—what the hell?” You groan as you still felt shitty, resulting in Derek stopping his thrusts.
“What’s the issue? Am I still going fast? Should I slow down more?”
“Yeah, uh, probably, yeah,” you say as your head goes back on his shoulder. He proceeds with his movements, his cock sliding in at an even slower pace, stretching your walls more intricately.
“Is this—is this better?” He asks as he moves patiently, steadily moving in and out of your body.
And it wasn’t even a minute in before you would interrupt again.
“Umm… Actually I,” you begin, sighing, “I’m just—I don’t know, I’m not feeling it.”
Derek slides out, still holding you up against the wall by your thighs and raises an eyebrow, looking into your eyes. “Seriously?”
You nod simply.
“Okay, what’s wrong?” He asks, unsure if it was something on his part.
“I don’t know, I’m just not really feeling it,” you reply awkwardly.
“Weren’t you the one who brought it up—”
“I’m not feeling it anymore, dude, I’m sorry!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in surrender.
He puts you down as you put your clothing back on. As you slip your underwear back on, you look at him standing by the same spot by the wall. “Are you still hard?” You ask, raising an eyebrow insightfully.
“Yup,” he shrugs shamelessly.
You sort of felt bad, since you were the one who had the idea of fucking in the bathroom in the first place, making him all riled up.
You sigh softly and you two look at each other in silence. You let out a quiet huff.
“Want me to jerk you off?”
Soon after his release, he put his boxers and pants on leisurely. You were in front of the mirror, trying to fix your hair and clothing, ensuring that you didn’t just come back from a sexual experience in the bathroom.
“Dude, look at how much expensive perfume these jagoffs own,” you chuckle amusedly, looking down at the bathroom sink counter. On the surface were several perfumes of Armani, Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana, as well as a few lotions.
“Hey, don’t—don’t touch those, Y/n.” Too late. You sprayed him with one.
You two grimaced at the scent.
“Well shit, I didn’t even know what I expected,” you cough severely, waving your hand around your nose as you despised the shitty perfume’s smell.
“I told you not to touch them, idiot,” he huffs, buckling his belt as he scowled at the odor.
“Don’t be a dickwad, you totally would’ve been curious enough to try them too,” you scoff, looking through the cabinets of the bathroom mirror and sinks. “Hey, look,” you smirk, throwing a small object at him that you had found.
He caught it involuntarily with his hands and inspected the item: it was a bottle of Viagra. He raised an eyebrow, looking at you and laughed softly. “I am not surprised that these old fucks can’t get it on,” he threw it back at you and you shelved it back in its original place.
You watch him take a hit from his vape and you sigh from boredom. You didn’t want to be in this bathroom any longer, but you definitely didn’t want to be out in the party either.
“Dude, I’m bored,” you whine as he handed you his vape pen.
“‘Sup Bored, I am Derek,” he muttered sarcastically, under his breath. You rolled your eyes and handed him back his vape once you were done with it.
“Can you—can you not?” you mumble exasperatedly in response as he just raised an eyebrow in amusement.
“Okay, let’s go,” he says, making his way towards the door, “We’re getting out of here, you can ride with me.”
“Hold on,” you interject quickly. “We should—I mean—I should probably wait a few minutes after you leave the bathroom to get out. You know, so no one will suspect us if we were to, like, walk out of the bathroom together.”
“Right. Yeah. Yeah, you have a point,” he nods.
You had to be careful from now on, realizing that just through the mere plan of leaving the bathroom alternately. This meant you had to be more delicate and thoughtful with every action and word that came from you—and Derek’s—to keep this messy secret.
***
You were laid on the bed beside Derek, one hand tangled in his hair and the other holding an ice cream cone as the bright colors of the TV in front of you nearly blinded your eyes. Your arm was propped up behind Derek’s head in order to play with his hair, feeling the soft curls brushing your palm and fingertips. The two of you looked intensely at the screen as you ate your ice cream in one hand, which was graciously prepared by Derek’s personal chef.
“Dude, Jar Jar Binks was definitely a Sith Lord,” you blurt in a low mutter. Derek turns his head and looks at you in befuddlement.
“What? No. Y/n, no, no, no, do not get started on this again—”
“I’m just saying, dude, that whole ‘goofy idiot’ appearance was hiding the fact that he was a powerful Sith Lord!” You exclaim passionately. “Have you seen his fighting style?”
“Yes, I’ve seen his fighting style, and it looks as if he’s chugged twenty fuckin’ martinis, then atrociously became crossfaded through several, reckless bong rips,” he replied straightforwardly.
You pause briefly as you realized. “Derek, I swear, if that was a reference to that one hangover I had back in December, I swear fucking to god—”
He met you with silence.
You nearly whisper, “Was it?”
The smirk that rose onto his lips told you everything, and you playfully smacked the top of his head since your hand was already there before, tangled in his hair. “Ow,” he muttered, yet his smirk never ceasing. “Look, all I’m saying is that I respect you for that. You are, like, the craziest person I know in the best fucking way possible.”
“Uh, thanks, I guess,” you mumble, fighting the inevitable curl of your lips that formed a flattered, soft grin. “Okay, anyways, all I’m saying, is that not only was it a tactic to trick his opponents, but he could’ve also been using the force! And how many times has he avoided death?”
“Okay, Y/n, that’s enough, lay off the grass,” he jokes, letting out a low snicker. “How is Jar Jar even relevant? We—we aren’t even watching the prequels, isn’t this The Empire Strikes Back?”
“No, I’m pretty sure we’re watching Return of the Jedi,” you say confidently.
“No, this is—this is definitely Empire Strikes Back,” he refutes, then pauses. “Did we seriously forget?”
“Well, there’s a billion of movies in this franchise, so we’re bound to mix up its titles. Hm, well, it can’t be The Empire Strikes Back, because Return of the Jedi is the one with that sexy Leia outfit,” you reason, shrugging. Derek raises an eyebrow. “Okay, okay, you know what, this isn’t even the point, the point is, that Jar Jar is relevant because it’s fuckin’ Star Wars!”
“Whatever,” Derek rolls his eyes with an amused grin that swiftly transitioned into a mischievous smirk. “You look like Jar Jar,” he mumbles.
You let out a playful, offended gasp. “Oh yeah? You look like Jabba the Hut.”
His head turned directly towards you and let out a exaggerated gasp as well. “Fuck you, you look like Yoda!”
“And you look like that fucking gremlin-looking piece of shit that’s Jabba’s pet!”
“Yeah, well, you look like—”
This continued a little longer until the both of you got too tired, unable to think of any more ugly Star Wars characters to compare each other to—which then resulted in a peaceful truce.
Your fingers proceeded to play with Derek’s curls as you took a bite of your ice cream, then letting your head rest on his shoulder. With this action, however, you suddenly thought about the night before and how things had led up to that event.
“Hey, are there any sex scenes in this?” You ask quietly, feeling his short strands of hair tangle loosely around your fingers.
He scoffs with a slight grin. “It’s a fucking Star Wars movie.”
You two burst out laughing. “Right, right, that’s—you have a point,” you giggle, catching your breath. “Oh, thank god, then.”
“Why? Are you that against having a repeat of last night?” He accuses, attempting to sound more playful, rather than the genuine concern that he felt.
“No, it’s just—” You struggled to think about how you wanted to word it. “I really like this. You know? I’m too tired, I’m very comfy, I…” You nuzzled further into his neck as your head rested on his shoulder. “This is nice. I like this.”
He smiles warmly to himself. “I like this too.”
The rest of the night was quite tame. You finished your ice cream before you finished the movie. Except, you didn’t really finish the movie entirely, because you two fell asleep in each other’s arms in the middle of it. Yet seen through your easy laughter and smiles, you were reassured indubitably: nothing was ever going to change between the two of you.
Summery: Mike always says you have such trouble getting up in the morning. You don't intend to take so long to wake, but Mike is quite confident the solution lays just at his fingertips- and lips.
Tags: No use of Y/N, no use of gendered pronouns, no genitalia specification, light bondage, pet names, dirty talk, fingering, oral (reader recieving), cum swallowing, morning sex, light breeding kink, recording sex, dacryphillia, light choking, sub! Mike, dom! Reader, facial, age-gap, interrupted sex.
Notes: GOD, I FINALLY FUCKING WROTE. I'm not even gonna blab, just read this shit.
do you write fics? i NEED someone to write more josh futterman fics. but like where’s he’s subby yk? i just need that man so bad 😭😭
im not great at writing, but i have been WAITING for a request to write a fic! i am not used to writing in second person so if there's an accidental "i said" or something along those lines forgive me!
cw: josh futturman, sub-josh, fem!reader, p in v, oral sex, descriptive smut, fluff in the end
1911 words
"josh!" you called from down the stairs, not getting a response from him. grumbling, you stomp up the stairs, cursing to yourself under your breath. the dumbass was addicted to this video game called Biotic Wars. at least you think that's the name of the game. it frustrated you. it felt like you haven't had a friend in months because of his obsession with this game. finally, your foot hit the top step of the second floor. "josh?" you called out again, not as loudly. you listened, hearing a soft groan come from behind his door. you hesitantly walk toward his bedroom door, stopping to listen for a moment.
"oh, shit, y/n..." you hear him whine on the other side of the door. you gasp and cover your mouth, surprised by the sudden mention of your name. slowly, you crack your door open slightly. you can't see much, but you can see his shoulder shaking and his jeans down around his ankles. your eyes widen as you feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks, as well as a heat pooling between your legs.
"j-josh..." you stutter out while opening the door wider, catching a glimpse of him stroking his dick in a quick manner before his head shot toward you, panic settling into his eyes.
"s-shit!" josh jumped out of his gaming chain, causing it to roll away from him. he reached down, fumbling with his jeans and boxers, trying to pull them up quickly. he tripped, causing him to tumble onto his shelf, falling and knocking it off the wall, causing a loud crash to echo in the room. you watched the chaos unfold in front of you, holding in a laugh. "what," he paused to clear his throat. "what are you doing here?" josh stood up, turning to look at the mess of broken shelf and objects laying on the floor. his hair was messy, falling into his eyes. defeated, he turned back to look at you, his dark eyes looking nervous, chest heaving as he was trying to catch his breath.
"we um, we agreed to hang out today, remember?" a clear flush of pink was dusting my cheeks.
"is it 4:00 already?" he asked, walking over to his desk and looking at the time on his phone. he let a groan and ran his hand down his face. "im sorry," he said, barely in a whisper. you were unsure what to say at this point. you had liked josh for years, but he had never shown interest in you, but god forbid you say anything in the risk that he would actually like you back.
"don't be," you whispered back. he met your gaze, confusion filling his eyes.
"what?"
"i said don't be," you gave him a soft smile. he smiled back softly, walking over and sitting on his bed. you followed, sitting next to him, letting your knees brush against each other.
"how much did you hear?"
"i heard you say my name, but i didn't see much," you said in a very confident and teasing manner. he was looking down at his hands, his face a nice shade of crimson. "what's wrong?" you tease, moving your hand under his chin to make him meet your gaze.
"n-nothing..." he stuttered out. "i just, um," he couldn't get the words out. without thinking, you leaned forward, your lips pressing against his. you heard a small gasp escape josh, but you felt him immediately melt into the kiss. you felt his hand rest on your thigh as he tried to move closer to you. you felt his mouth gap slightly, giving you a chance to slide your tongue in, letting them dance around each other. your hands made their way up into his hair, grabbing fistfuls of it, tugging on it slightly. with that, he let out a guttural groan. "fuck," he breathed onto your lips.
"you have no idea how long i've wanted this," you mumble, adjusting your body to straddle his lap, feeling his cock rubbing on your heat. you began grinding on him softly, making him throw his head back in a stifled moan.
"m-me too," he whined out, grabbing at your ass trying to push you against him harder.
you reach down, grabbing his wrists and making him stop. "no, and be quiet." he looked up at you, a flash of desperation in his eyes. he quickly nodded.
"okay..." he whispered. you got up off of him, pointing at the bed, signaling at him to scoot up and lay down. he immediately did so, you following him to straddle him again, grinding against his confined dick. he bit his lower lip, watching you carefully trying to stifle the whines that were escaping his lips. "please," he whimpered out. you slipped off your shirt, the cold air causing goosebumps to form on your skin. josh bit his lips, eyes hungrily searching your body. you kissed his neck as you worked on the button of his jeans. you trailed kisses down his clothed chest before sliding his jeans and boxers off allowing his cock to spring free, then throwing them into a messy pile on the floor. his eyes followed your movements, hands gripping the bedsheets under him. you slowly began pumping the base of his cock as you brought your tongue down to the tip of his cock, making slow circles around him. his hips moved upward.
"be fucking still," you murmured, grabbing onto his hip with your free hand, gripping it tightly.
"i, im sorry," he whined out. "just feels s'good," his words were slurred together as his head leaned back. you bring your mouth back, wrapping your lips around him, bobbing your head up and down on his length at an agonizingly slow pace. he whined, gripping the back of your head, squirming beneath you. "mmmplease, faster," he gasped out between whines and whimpers.
"so needy," you hummed on him, quickening your speed. he arched his back, his reaction causing the heat between your legs to ache. you ran your tongue on the underneath side of his shaft, sucking on the tip harshly before taking him back into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.
"fuck im gonna~" you pulled off of him before he had a chance to finish his sentence, not allowing him to have his release. he looked up at you, desperation in his eyes. "p-please y/n, i need to cum," he whined.
"i want to fuck you first, joshy," you grinned before sliding your own shorts and panties off. you moved your hand down to your clit, rubbing lazy circles around it before moving up to him. "I'm going to ride your face, okay? you're going to make me cum before you can," i hummed. eagerly, he moaned out an 'okay' before you straddled his face. you immediately felt his hands grab onto your thighs as his tongue flicked over your folds, causing you to let out a low groan. "fuck, you're doing so good for me," you whispered. you leaned on one hand to brace yourself on the headboard while the other lightly tugged at tufts of his hair. he moaned into your heat as you tugged at his hair. his tongue periodically flicking over your clit, causing tremors of pleasure to run thorough you. you moaned, feeling a heat building up in your core. "fuck josh don't stop," you moaned out. he moved his head back and forth, moving his tongue in and out of you before moving it up to your clit again. before you knew it, you felt your orgasm burst out of you, making your body jolt, throwing your head back in a loud moan. josh moaned underneath you as you rode out your orgasm. you get off him wrapping your hand around his cock, feeling it get impossibly harder with your touch.
"p-please fuck me now," he whined out, unable to contain himself much longer. his eyes were glazed over with pleasure.
"so fucking needy," you mumble as you line his cock up with your entrance, slowly easing yourself onto him, stretching you out. you groaned as he whined, grabbing your hips to push you onto him. this caused you to grab his wrists, pinning them above his head, his eyes not leaving yours. "you're going to be good and not touch me, right?"
"i," he cut himself off with a needy moan as you started slowly bouncing on him, his eyes screwing shut.
"fuck, so big," you said through your own pleasure. "this is better that fucking your hand, mm joshy?" he nodded, his mouth open slightly as he tried to hold it together. you leaned down to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. you quickened your movements, attacking his neck while you grinded on him, making him whine and moan. you let go of his hands, placing yours on his chest to brace yourself to quicken your movements even more.
"c-can i come," he breathed out, eyes still shut and brows furrowed. "please i can't hold on much longer," he groaned. you didn't answer, just leaned down to kiss him again, a much softer and intimate kiss. you felt the heat bubbling inside you again as his cock twitched, insinuating his closeness.
"be a good boy, cum inside," you whisper in his ear, you feeling yourself unfolding as your second orgasm hit, clenching around his cock. he groaned, letting out strained breaths as he reached his climax, filling you with his seed. you leaned down to kiss his forehead as he rode out his orgasm.
"s-shit, y/n.." he heaved. you looked down at him, his hair clinging to the sweat on his forehead. "thank you," he whispered. his eyes remained shut as he caught his breath. you got off of him, laying down next to him, catching your own breath. "hold on," he quietly said before getting up and leaving the room. he returned quickly with a small towel, gingerly cleaning you off before cleaning himself off. he offered you your underwear and one of his tshirts.
"thank you," you slipped them on as he pulled his boxers back on. you didn't notice at first, but they had a biotic wars pattern on them.
"you're an idiot, joshy." you smiled, looking over to him.
"what, i like the game!" he said, slightly offended. you rolled your eyes as he crawled back onto the bed, laying sideways with his head on your shoulder. he draped his arm over your stomach. "you said you've wanted to do that for a while?" he looked up to you, cocking an eyebrow at you.
"shut up," you smiled.
"what, im being serious!" you couldnt help but laugh.
"well, ive wanted to be with you since we were 15. i started wanting this when i went off to school. i missed you a lot. thought about you all the time really." you sighed out, closing your eyes. you felt him smile against your shoulder.
"ive liked you for a while too, was just scared to say anything." you didnt respond, just planted a kiss on his forehead. he sighed. "please dont tell anyone how much of a loser i am in the bedroom," he chuckled sleepily.
"aww not even my best friend?" he grumbled. "fine, fine you big baby." a comfortable silence filled the room, and soon the both of you drifted off to sleep in each others arms.
okay first fic done lol if yall made it through that and for some reason want more, send me recs! ill do 'em! thanks for reading lol
☆ Synopsis: It's been an exhausting day and Mike finally gets a chance to unwind with you, planning to watch a movie. But the screen is the last thing he can focus on.
☆ Word Count: 1.5k
☆ Warnings: NSFW, swearing, oral (f receiving), fingering, soft smut, No use of y/n
☆ A/N: This was really fun to make, and writer's block is finally leaving me alone!!૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა
♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ﾟ.
You snapped out of your hazy state as the door clicked, looking at the clock
11:23 pm.
Mike sluggishly set his stuff down, taking tired steps from the late night. It was one of those fortunate days off for him, yet he insisted on running errands and helping out the neighbors.
Hanging up his coat, you caught a glimpse of him and he looked absolutely wrecked; hair tousled and bags under his eyes with that exhausted look written all over his face. You knew he was tired, you knew he had worked so hard, but damn did he look good.
"Hi," you whispered, earning a small, tired smile from him. “Hey.” Voice quiet, he walked over to the table, looking around, “Do you know where the–”
“The paperwork?” He nodded, knitting his brows, “I did most of it, the rest is in the first drawer.” A slight wave of shock was evident on his face as he looked your way. “You really didn’t have to..”
shaking your head, you smiled at his shy tone, “You’ve been working so hard baby. It’s the least I could do.”
He let out a tired chuckle, slumping beside you on the couch. “God, what did I do to deserve you.” His words made your heart flutter, and even when exhausted, he somehow found a way to look at you with eyes that made you feel like the finest paintings.
“I missed you” he mumbled, resting his head on your shoulder, relaxing as your hand laced through his loose curls, humming softly, “Missed you too.” The dim lighting and gentle touch did nothing to help his drowsiness, huffing as he felt you move to pick up the remote. “Anything you wanna watch?”
He sighed, burying his face in your neck, “Whatever you want.” Poor boy, he was completely drained. You clicked through the channels before deciding on something you hoped would be interesting.
Mike moved his head slightly, eyes on the screen, but his thoughts were on you. Everything about you drove him crazy. That soft voice of yours and even softer touch occupied his mind every day, craving you more than anything he’d ever tasted. The only thing he could think about was those desperate sounds that spewed from your pretty lips when he went down on you.
“Mike?” Slipping from his thoughts, he shifted against you. “Hm?” God. His voice drove you insane. “We don’t have to watch anything—I mean you seem really tired.” He shook his head, breathing in your sweet scent. “Mm…I jus’ wanna be with you.” Words slurring from exhaustion, he lost himself in your presence. You nod, trying to drown yourself in the movie, though, it threatened to put you to sleep with its nonexistent plot.
Your attempts to focus were interrupted by that familiar touch, Mike's hands caressing the dip of your waist, “What are you–” Cutting off with a sharp inhale, you felt his fingers slip under your shirt.
You bit back a sigh as his body moved closer. "Missed you so fucking much," he groaned softly, trailing kisses across your jaw. The tone in his voice was so much more desperate than before, hands teasing your hot skin with his fingertips. "Mike..." you sighed, "we can't—" He touched you with such care, dragging his fingers down to your hips, but you knew you had work in the morning. Any longer with him touching you like this, and you'd be up all night. "Focus on the movie baby," he mouthed against your neck.
You tried to protest, but your jaw went slack before you could even speak as he found that sweet spot against your skin.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Hardly processing what he was saying, your body melted at his touch. "You don't know how badly I've been wanting to do this." His words clouded your mind, making it hard to think about anything other than him. It was like he was a different person from when he first got home, his sweet nothings only making you want more. “I thought you were tired.” Your breathy whisper made his mind spiral.
“Never too tired for you.”
Inhaling deeply, you tried to keep your eyes on the screen, but no matter where you looked, your mind drifted to him and his touch. Struggling to focus, his hands glided down to your thighs, that feeling of his fingertips dancing on your bare skin making you dizzy before they slipped under your shorts. "Please," you whined.
"Mike, please—" Your desperation was mesmerizing as he drank in your soft begs, that intoxicating scent of your perfume flooding his senses.
"Please what?" Desire wrapped around him, "C'mon, baby, tell me what you want." His words were soft, silently begging to hear your lovesick voice.
You bit back a shy moan, "Touch me…Please."
Head spinning at the sound of yourself, Mike's breath hitched at your plea, slipping his fingers under your panties. You tipped your head back at the fuzzy feeling of him tracing your clit in slow circles. "Fuck..” he groaned, dipping a finger inside of you, “Look how wet you are."
He admired your parted mouth struggling to stay quiet and knitted brows before slipping another finger into you, the gentle stretch making your mind go numb.
"God, you sound so pretty," he moaned, sinking his fingers deeper, “Come on... let me hear you."
You had no choice but to let go, drowning him in your soft, involuntary sounds as his fingers curled against that perfect spot you so desperately craved.
You tried, you really did, but you just couldn’t focus on the screen when his fingers were pumping in and out of you, hitting those places that you could never reach.
"I—I can't," you whimpered, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach, you squirmed at the feeling, desperately moving your hips for more friction. He pulled his fingers out right before you could reach the edge, leaving you breathless. You couldn’t even speak, inhaling sharply as he moved off the couch and down to the floor in front of you. Tugging at the waistband of your shorts, your hips stuttered before allowing him to slip them down.
Legs closing at the sudden exposure, you looked down at him nervously.
"Keep your legs spread f’me," his voice laced with desire and desperation as he gazed up at you. He looked so pretty on his knees like this, that sleepy look filled with a drunken gaze, high off of your body. Shyly complying, you kept your eyes glued to the man in front of you, hooking his arms under your thighs, hands gripping your hips to keep you still. “Yeah, There you go..” Heart beating faster from the praise whispered into your skin, you couldn't help but bite back a whimper.
That soft sound melted into a moan as his tongue teased you, pressing your hips up against him, you quietly begged for more. Your eyes met his as you looked down, tugging at his hair, and sighing as his tongue finally pressed down on your clit. It was so hard to pay attention to anything else when he was making the sweetest noises you’ve ever heard; that pussy drunk expression driving you insane.
"Fuck, you taste so good," he groaned, blissed out and addicted from the way you tasted. He savored every sound that fell from your pretty lips, slipping his fingers back into you. A whine fell from him as you tugged on his hair once more, brain dizzy from losing yourself in pleasure. Consumed by a trance-like state, you desperately tried to control the moans spilling from your lips as he curled his fingers inside of you.
“Please" he whined breathlessly, the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you was addicting. "Cum for me.”
That perfect movement of his tongue working against your cunt had you seeing stars as his name fell from your lips, and fuck, it sounded even better when you were moaning it. The coil in your stomach threatened to snap as his fingers moved faster, eyes shut in pure pleasure.
"Mikey," you whined, tipping your head back, "Please... I'm–" A broken moan escaped your lips as his fingers buried deep inside of you, desperate for more of those beautiful sounds.
Breathy whimpers spilled from your mouth as you teetered on the edge, finally finishing with the prettiest noise Mike swore he had ever heard. That tired gaze in your eyes made him melt, legs trembling as his fingers slipped from your aching core. He moved his head up to your flushed state, hands roaming across your body as he pressed his lips against yours so desperately; soft, needy moans muffling into the kiss. Slowly slipping his tongue into your mouth, the sweet taste of yourself on him left you weak in the knees.
Pulling back, he admired your beautiful state. Messy breathing, and tainted cheeks; he couldn’t help but bite back a smile, knowing that he was responsible for those sweet eyes and pretty sounds. "You did so good," he mumbled, still tipsy from your body as his arms wrapped around your waist. "Sorry we couldn't watch the whole movie," You collected your thoughts, shaking your head with a weak chuckle, "I enjoyed watching you more."
Synopsis: You detest having a roommate. You enjoy cheap rent. One of these things is going to have to change at some point, and with the week you're having? There's only so long before people reach a breaking point.
Tags: Smut. Filthy smut. (This is the first smut I've published too, so enjoy that.) Enemies to lovers, mocking, Mike is so OoC at some parts you could really shove anyone into this role, I'm going to be so extremely for real. (I'm honestly just feral for the actor. Sorry.) Hate fucking, dirty talk, cursing, cucking(??), listening in, masturbating, dumbification, slight dacrophillia(??), Abby's out of the equation for this scenario. Imagine like, early 20s Mike, he's not caretaker yet. Praising, pet names (good girl, princess, whore, pretty girl), no use of Y/N. Dom! Mike, teasing Reader, Brat (??) Reader, phone sex, walking in on masturbation, walking in on sex, possessive! Mike, hickies/bite marks, finger sucking, hair pulling, slut shaming, probably missing some things imma be honest. Just assume this is depraved.
Notes: I'd like to apologize to God and Josh Hutcherson. This is filth and I recognize my eternal soul is indeed damned. Anyways, bone apple teet.
I didn't mind Mike when I met him, you know.
He's quiet. Shy. Keeps to himself. Those traits should make for a good roommate. If he'd kept his mess confined to his room, maybe the music that he blares just a little too loudly wouldn't be so headache inducing.
My fingers rap on the thin door, demanding his attention which is never given to me unless I make a production out of it. We both know that.
"Michael," I say.
Silence.
"Mike."
Nothing.
I open the door and there he is, peacefully asleep on his bed as the bass shakes the water in his glass. I sigh and click off the stereo, then turn to leave. It's incredible how quickly I hear him shift on the bed, scrambling to stand.
"The fuck?" He croaks, wiping sleep from his eyes.
"Your music was blaring. I already heard it from Mrs. Jones upstairs about you waking her kid up, I'm not dealing with that again," I say raising my hands up in the air defensively.
"I don't sleep well," he says.
"Neither does the baby," I say.
Mike rolls his eyes, turning the music back on and turning his back to me.
"Michael-"
"Don't call me that," he interrupts.
It's my turn to roll my eyes. "Schmidt, can you at least turn it down? I'm asking nicely," I say. He stands there for a moment and though I can't see his face, I know he's thinking.
Finally, with a sigh he says "Fine, princess."
"Don't call me that," I say. I hear a small huff of laughter from him and he turns to look at me.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hit a nerve?" He asks with false sympathy.
"It's a simple request," I say. My eyes narrow at him in irritation.
"Which one?"
"Both."
We stand there for a moment, both of us sizing the other up, taking each other in.
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Fine."
With the agreement having been made, I turn to leave, shutting the door behind me.
Year long lease. Joy.
-Tuesday-
"Hurry up!" Yells Mike, pounding on the bathroom door.
"I'm fucken hurrying!" I yell back, my hands working as fast as they can to wash off my body. Late alarm, fever dreams causing me to wake in a pool of stinking sweat, and one bathroom make for a horrendous cocktail of repeated 'fuck you's through the cheap door.
"I'm gonna be late!" Mike yells.
"So am I, I'm sorry!"
There's a moment of long silence and I think maybe Mike has finally found a spot of pity, realizing that maybe we aren't enemies but simply humans who unfortunately have to coexist in this world together. Then the water turns freezing, and I realize I hate him.
"Michael!" I practically scream. Traces of soap still reside on my body, but the cold and my alarm both force me out. Angered and not thinking clearly, I wrap the towel around my dripping waist and swing the door open.
"Are you fucking happy?" I sneer, face inches from his.
His expression is initially satisfied, but as his eyes flicker downwards he and I both realize my mistake. His eyes widen, lingering for a moment on my bare chest as he processed what he was seeing, then returning to meet my glare.
"What?" I ask sharply. "You've never seen a pair before?"
He stammers. "I-I have."
"Don't act like it," I say. "Take a fucken photo, be the only pair you'll probably ever see in your life, dicksmack."
As though he remembers himself, his eyes narrow. "Move, princess."
I slam past him, walking quickly towards my room and slamming the door behind me.
"Don't wake the baby!" Mike mocks down the hall.
Oh, motherfucker. It is on.
-Wednesday-
It's hard to break a lease. It's harder when nothing as cheap exists in the area. This is a problem for both Mike and I. I know it's true for him because apparently even his bills are too troublesome to keep on the floor of his room. But despite his mess, it's him that comes barreling down the hall, bursting into my room with no warning.
"Jesus, Michael!" I start, spinning around in my chair. "Have you ever heard of knocking?"
"Have you ever heard of washing a dish?" He sneers. "It's not hard. My baby sister could do it."
"Oh, is she available? I'd love to see how she'd handle your laundry situation," I retort.
"Why is it impossible for you to actually wash something? You'll put water in it, let it soak. I respect that, but then you never come back to it. Do you enjoy flies? I think you enjoy flies," he says with hate dripping off of his words. I roll my eyes, but he's not entirely wrong either.
"Fine," I mutter. "I'll do the dishes. Sorry."
"See? Look at how hard that was, princess." He begins to turn away.
"Will you quit fucking calling me that?" I snap.
"I'm following our bargin. You're the one who slips first, princess," he says while laughing, raising his hands in defense.
A long moment passes, neither of us willing to back down.
"Do the dishes yourself," I say finally, turning back to the computer.
"Not my mess," he says.
"Too bad. I'm too delicate," I say with a faux breathiness to my voice. The door slams behind him, which has me instantly rising from my chair to race after him.
"Don't slam my door!" I say.
"You did it the other day!" He says, spinning around to face me and almost slipping on one of his shirts littering the hall. I can't help but smile at that.
"Problems?" I ask.
"Yeah, they exist in whatever demon spawned you," he hisses. His eyes catch on something though, narrowing as he leans slightly closer. "The fuck is on your neck?" He asks.
"The fuck you mean 'the fuck is on my neck?'" I ask.
"I mean you've got something on your neck," he says.
"No I don't," I say. "Move." I shove past him to enter the bathroom beside us, flicking on the light and feeling my irritation rise as he reaches to do the same thing simultaneously.
"See?" He says, pointing at a small, dark mark on my neck.
Fuck.
"I don't fucken know what that is," I lie, covering it with my hand.
"You liar, that's a hickey!" He says still pointing at it.
"Is not!"
"Is too. What, are you fucking some high-schooler?" He scoffs.
"Adults leave hickies too, Mike. It can be enjoyable. You'd know this if someone ever wanted to fuck you," I spit back.
"Who on earth would enjoy having sex with you?" He asks. "The only loads you leave attract flies I don't want to have to deal with come summer."
My jaw drops in shock.
"And the only loads you leave smell like menthols and depression!" I retort.
Staring. Always staring with this guy. Jaws clentched, eyes narrowed.
"Just don't bring this guy around here," he finally says. His voice is quieter but the edge is still there.
I blink. "What?"
"You heard me," he says. "I don't need to hear your shrill voice like that."
Am I imagining things or is he blushing? No, I'm definitely imagining things. It's the florescents.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I taunt. The fuck kind of response was that?
His eyes widen slightly. "No," he says a little too quickly.
"What, you get one look at my tits and now you're thinking about that degenerate shit?" I press, stepping closer.
"I don't- this-" He's blundering. I've got him now, I've found his weak spot.
Without a word, I slip out of the bathroom and return to my room, shutting the door and beginning a plan that will guarantee I won't have to worry about being the roommate that breaks lease and looks for a new apartment.
-Thursday-
"Are you close, baby?" The sweet voice on the phone asks me. The battery on my toy is flashing, showing one of us needs to finish soon. And while I like Nick, there was just something lacking in him that kept me on this irritating edge, hiding my release from me.
"I'm close," I confirm, switching hands to try and hit a new angle. The video on the computer is doing nothing to help with this at all, and I'm so bored I'm tempted to just fake it and seal the deal.
The plan was simple. Establish dominance over my roommate via fucking a guy I'd met at some party the week before. Nick was an easy target, too busy thinking with his dick to question why I was suddenly insistent on him coming over. And to guarantee his presence at the apartment, I would have to put in work. Not that I wasn't fully uninterested. He was alright, I was single. Beneficial for everyone involved.
The vibrator finally found that sweet spot, the one that made me cry out softly into the receiver as my wrist pumped with newfound vigor.
"Close," I told Nick. "Isn't as good as you though."
Nick chuckles softly. "You're sweet," he says. Then he's prattling sweet praises, whimpering into the phone breathily along with me as I finally begin to tip over the edge, moaning loudly and clearly. It's my luck that Mike should be at work at this moment.
Should be.
Wasn't.
The door opens as Mike walks in, his mind obviously focused on something else but immediately taken aback at the sight of me sprawled upon the bed, legs open, toy in hand, Nick on phone, porn on computer. Shit.
"Jesus!" Mike shouts. "It's the middle of the day!"
"Get the fuck out!" I shout back, my voice less vicious than I'd like given that I was mid-ruined orgasm. Mike covers his eyes, trying to stumble out of the door without looking, muttering a dozen apologies a second before finally reaching and slamming the door shut behind him.
Nick and I are both silent for a long while, neither of us sure what to say.
"So... I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask finally.
"...yeah." He says. And with the click of my phone, the plan is solidified.
-
I don't see Mike that evening until about three hours later when he finally emerges from his room with pink cheeks and clothed in a large hoodie he seems to wish would swallow him whole.
"Hey," I say to him. I chew on my cheap food slowly, flipping through my novel at the cluttered table.
"Hi," he says quietly, not really making eye contact with me. He crosses to the cabinets, taking out a glass and filling it with water. We listen to the tap for a moment before I finally say "I didn't mean for you to see that."
His eyebrows scrunch in confusion. "I got that."
More silence. The tap shuts off and he leans against the sink, taking a long sip.
"So... hickey guy?" He finally asks. And I can't help the snort that escapes me.
"Nick," I say.
"And he's...?" Mike is testing the waters, that much is obvious.
"Canadian," I say.
Mike nods. Sip. Silence.
"Nick, from Canada," he says slowly.
"Yep," I say, popping the 'p.'
Mike looks at his drink in thought.
"So you're into Canadians," he finally says. I think for a moment.
"No," I say. I mark my book and close it. "Just bored."
"Just bored?" Mike asks.
"Just bored," I confirm.
Sip. Silence. Thinking.
"You... do that regularly?" He asks.
"I mean... I like sex," I say.
His cheeks redden at that, and he takes another sip as though to hide that.
"He's coming over tomorrow," I say casually. Mike's eyes dart to mine, dark and wide.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Another sip. He finishes his glass.
"Should I find plans for tomorrow?" He asks finally.
"No," I say a bit too quickly. Both of our cheeks redden at that. "I mean, we won't... shouldn't...." I don't know what I mean.
Mike stares at me thoughtfully for a moment then looks back to the glass in his hand.
"You're pretty loud, princess," he finally says quietly.
There's a new tension in the air. One that isn't brought on by hate or dirty dishes. One that I don't mind strangely.
"You could join us, if you'd like," I offer. Mike's grip on the glass tightens so suddenly I'm almost surprised it doesn't burst.
"I- I'm pretty sure I'd get in the way," he stammers. Then his eyes darken, a strange look in them. "Besides, I don't like being a whore."
This comment stings. Deeply.
"I'm not a whore," I say defensively.
"Oh?" Mike asks.
"He's the only guy I've fucked in months, so yeah," I say.
"Oh, is that why I hear you moaning late at night all the fucking time?" Mike says. "Seriously, you're fucking loud."
"And you're a fucking virgin," I snap.
"Says who?" He asks.
"Forget it," I say. I gather my things and rise from my chair. "Don't fucking talk to me."
"Fine," he scoffs. "I'll wash this dish too, princess," he calls after me.
I spin around. "You would be so much more fuckable if you were easy to swallow," I snapped, stomping my foot like a child.
Both of us stare at each other in a bit of shock at what I just said.
"Most girls swallow just fine, thank you," he retorts.
"Who's the whore now?" I say. I don't wait for him to respond, slamming the door shut behind me.
Fine. Let him hate me. That's the whole point of this anyways. Then it'll be me and someone else in this terrible fucking apartment. Maybe it'll be Nick. Anyone would be better, I tell myself.
...
...how easy is Mike to swallow?
-Friday-
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't struggling to remember the correct name right now.
Nick is underneath me, pumping his cock in and out like no tomorrow as I grind against him. My jaw is slack, my hands buried in the blankets fabric underneath of us. I'm staring at the thin door though, the thin door that I know leaks every little noise whether there's a towel under the enormous crack or not. And the shadows of footsteps that I see make it all the easier for Nick to continue his shallow rhythm, edging me closer and closer.
"Mi-Nick," I moan loudly. It sounds endearing, thankfully. But my heart races at how close I've come to fucking things up in a few different ways. "Fuck, you're thick," I moan. It's not particularly true, but his size is fine, so what's an ego boost to help him along the way?
Nick is sweet underneath of me, moaning that I'm his, that we're each others. That's great and all, but God. There is this missing edge. And it isn't until I hear pounding on the bedroom door that I finally feel real excitement begin to flow through me.
"We need to talk," Mike's voice says firmly.
Nick looks guilty, his eyes wide and asking for silent guidance. I don't respond, simply continuing to slide up and down Nick's cock and moaning while doing so.
"Hey, princess," Mike says firmer, pounding on the door again. "Think you can stop Oh-ing Canada and come talk to me like a fucking adult?"
I don't stop, grinding harder against Nick's base. My hands find my clit, rubbing it as I respond.
"I told you you were welcome to join us," I moan. Nick looks at me like I've gone utterly insane, and maybe I have. Maybe I'm completely delusional about all of this, but I couldn't care less as I feel my dripping cunt tighten to the point even Nick doesn't care what happens so long as he comes inside of me.
"Mi-Nick," I moan. "Mi-ne, mi-ne." Come on, Schmidt. Catch the fucking hint.
All night I had been plauged with dreams about Michael fucking Schmidt. I'd noticed when we met he was attractive to me. I liked his hands, his stubble. God, his shoulders made me think things that will probably send me straight to Hell. But hate usually kept these thoughts at bay. Last night however, the dreams wouldn't stop coming. Over and over, a new fantasy of him emerged in my head. Him underneath of me as a writing mess, him begging for more, my tits in his mouth as he finished inside me. It was depraved. I wanted it.
The door bursts open just as Nick is finishing inside of me. It's the look in Mike's eyes that causes me to finish, all while keeping eye contact with him as well.
Nick is quick to flip me on my back, covering my body haphazardly with a blanket prattling excuse after excuse. Apparently we're sorry. Apparently we had gotten too wrapped up in the moment because apparently, you know how it is, right man?
But it doesn't matter. Mike isn't looking at Nick, who's pulling on his shirt above me. Mike's looking at me, watching my fingers that trail gently along my areolas, flicking lightly at my hardened nipples and clearly longing for more.
"Mike wouldn't know the first thing about pleasing a woman," I say with little thought.
"Oh?" Both of them ask me.
"I think you should leave, Nick. Mike and I are going to have a little talk, and I don't want you to see how ugly this may get," I say without breaking eye contact with Mike.
The sudden shift in the air is not subtle, so maybe that's why Nick doesn't really hesitate to listen to me.
"I'll call you later," he says as he stumbles past Mike.
"Don't bother," Mike calls after him. Mike slams the bedroom door shut, locking it before turning to me and raising an eyebrow.
"Is there something you'd like to say to me?" Mike asks, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms as his stands tall.
My hand dips to between my thighs where Nick and I's cum pools out, coating me in the thick stuff.
"Sorry," I say in a spoiled tone, smiling.
Mike's eyes scan my entire body. From the hickies coating my neck, to my breasts and even my thighs, I can see a new wave of anger washes over him. At least, it looks like anger. There's something else mixed with it too, something I desperately want to play with.
"You're not sorry for shit," he says. He's correct.
"I told you last night, I like fucking people," I say as my fingers circle my clit.
Mike's jaw tightens. "You like fucking people," he repeats.
I can see him grind his teeth. He's silent for another moment. "And do you like... him?"
I giggle. "You tell me," I say with a soft and low voice.
His eyebrows twitch. "You're still... going?" He asks with an unsure edge to his voice.
"Yes, Michael. This is what a woman looks like when she's turned on," I say in a mocking tone, batting my lashes as my fingers dip into my entrance. "Would you like to try?"
He steps closer, bending down ever so slightly to stand over me.
"Don't call me that," he says in a low growl.
"Make me," I taunt.
He blinks.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah."
A startled yelp escapes me as Mike grabs my hips, dragging me roughly to the edge of the bed. He spreads my legs, stepping between them and slips his rough thumb inside of me with no hesitation.
"Fuck. You do like him," he groans, his other hand fiddling with his belt. I can see how hard he is underneath his jeans, his fingers clumsy but working quickly at the items covering him.
"He's oka-ay," I say quickly, my voice trailing off into a soft moan. His thumb explores the inside of my cunt, probing the wet muscle and massaging inside of me spots a man had never taken time to look for before. "Your finger's thick," I moan.
Mike chuckles, freeing himself and pumping into his hand slowly as he presses his thumb deeper inside of me.
"You told Nick he was thick too," he says. "That just your line with guys?"
It is, but this time I actually mean it. So I shake my head. "No," I say quietly.
"I don't believe you," Mike says. He slips his thumb out of me, making me clench around nothing. I open my mouth to protest only for Mike to quickly shove his thumb into my mouth, touching the back of my throat while he sinks his cock into me.
"Go on, pretty girl," he moans. "Take it like the proud whore you are."
I gag around his thumb, both from the sudden intrusion and from the taste. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't like this, if I said that his actions didn't make me even more wet and that I didn't suck his thumb greedily, wrapping my tongue around it and sucking it clean until I can only taste his rough flesh. I swear it makes his dick twitch.
His cock slides in and out of me with ease, taking his time to feel how I wrap around him.
"Fuck," he drawls. "It's been awhile."
I moan around his thumb, running my tongue along the underside and trying to rock my hips against him to tell him to speed up. Instead, he presses a hand down on my lower stomach, pinning me down as he sinks in fully. At first glance his size is average, but inside of me it's overstimulating how he fills me just a little too much.
His thumb presses further into my throat, making me gag as he tilts his head back in pleasure.
"You are just demanding. Do you know that?" He asks. I try to respond, but he simply presses his thumb against a spot that makes me gag once more.
"Nothing's good enough for you. Not even Nick. You didn't even cum until I came in here," he laughed cruelly, looking down at where we connect. His other thumb trails down to rub my clit slowly, making me writhe underneath him and clench around his still cock.
"Never shutting up. Till now. I like it when you're quiet, princess. Makes you easier to swallow." He presses deeper inside of me, making me whine in overstimulation.
"You're mine now," he says, slowly pulling out. "You can call Nick all you want. Call him, fuck him. But we both know he's not gonna make you cum like I will." Just his tip remains in me, barely staying in before he slams back into me so hard I scream.
"So what's the point?" Mike asks, slowly slipping out once more. "Do you like pitting men against each other like that?" He slams back into me. My eyes water, but I don't protest.
This time when he pulls back, he stays there. I wait for him, trying to he patient. But then he removes his thumb and wraps his hand around his length instead.
"What?" I ask, my voice raw.
"Say it," Mike says as he jerks himself off slowly.
"Say what?" I ask.
"I'm not gonna fuck you like you want unless you say you're mine," he says casually. His tip is bright red and leaking precum, his length coated in Nick and I's milky cum.
"Fuck you," I say. Mike just laughs.
"You're the one laying here crying over some dick," he taunts. "I just want to make sure we're on the same page here, princess."
I try to hold strong, I really do. It'd be more fun if I did. But fuck. The way he stands over me, his shoulders broad. I could never deny I liked the sight of his hands either, and seeing them tug as his pulsing cock while he stared down at me with that stupid fucking smile?
It's not fair.
"I'm yours," I say quietly.
"Hmm?" Mike asks, pumping his dick quicker now. I can see how hard his veins are, and the sounds of him fucking his own hand make me want him more.
"Yours," I repeat slightly louder.
"Use proper English," he says. His face has this stupid blissful look on it, his mouth slightly open as he pants, fucking himself and watching me as he does.
"I am yours," I hiss through gritted teeth. It doesn't even take a full second before he's buried in me once more, his hands pinning my knees to my shoulders and fucking me with enough speed I'm genuinely scared he'll hurt me. And I love it.
"I'm going to make you mine," he grins, his voice suddenly turning feral.
"I'm going to make you mine so much that you won't even be able to remember what Nick's name is, let alone what he looks like. Or what he feels like."
"Uh huh," I whine. My voice is so unusually high and ragged, my mouth slack and eyes rolling back in pleasure. I rock against his hips, trying to find my second edge. I'm babbling, whether I'm asking for mercy or more is anyone's guess.
He laughs at me, and it's a harsh and cruel laugh - not at all like the usual sarcasm and mockery he displays. Instead, his laugh comes from a place that is raw and angry and vicious, the kind of laugh a wolf makes when he's about to go for the kill.
"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Not quite the big, bad man that he's made you think he was, is he? How disappointing," he continues, his hips thrusting into me repeatedly.
I cry loudly with each new thrust. His movements are cruel, borderline abusive. Christ, I love it.
"Bigger," I whine. "Bigger."
He teeth nip at my throat, sinking in hard enough I'll be wearing sweaters and scarves for weeks. Makeup won't touch the color.
"Bigger?" He asks in a mocking voice. "What's bigger?"
"You're bigger," I moan. My voice is broken, and there's no way the neighbors don't hear the degeneracy occurring around them. Sorry, Mrs. Jones.
"What are you going for?" he snaps, his eyes narrowing and his voice growing more and more vicious. "Big bad Mike?" he giggles, his grip tightening on my ankles as he continues plunging into me.
A loud scream escapes me as Mike finds my g spot. He doesn't relent, focusing on the spot and abusing it while I sob and try to wiggle away, completely overstimulated from pleasure and unable to handle it.
His hands pin me against him, trapping me where I am and forcing me to take him however he wants me to.
"You want more?" he asks, taking one hand away from my ankles, grabbing and pulling my hair harshly, forcing me to stare into his eyes. His pupils are so blown out I can't even see his pretty hazel irises. They're dark and predatory, his breath hot and heavy with rage.
"Is that what you want?" he asks, pulling back and plunging into my aching cunt again.
"Yes!" It's a violent scream that escapes me, feeling myself begin to tip over the edge. His eyes sparkle, his lips in a smile that shows he knows he's won.
"And what would Nick say if he could see you like this? All mine, all mine..." he taunts.
"Huh?" I'm completely stupid, my body coming undone so suddenly around his dick with cries, screams, whimpers and everything inbetween. Nick was foreplay and I've no mental energy to remember any detail that isn't Mike's.
"Don't even know his name?" Mike laughs. "You can't even remember his name, can you?" he grins, his eyes narrow again as he tugs my hair and shoves himself in further.
"Uh uh," I pant in a high voice. My body shakes terribly, his pounding length already edging me once more as he continues abusing my spot. How on earth am I supposed to walk after this?
"Then let me help you remember his name," he says. "Say his name."
"Mike," I moan pathetically. I'm right back on that edge, crying and feeling as though I'll burst from overstimulation.
"Louder," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Say it louder. Say his name loud enough for him to hear you."
"Mike!" I scream it religiously as I come undone a second time, gripping him to the point I can feel how close he is too. I hear him laugh above me, his other hand now wrapping around my throat and choking me slightly.
"That's my name," he says with mocking gentleness. "Say his name or I won't finish."
"I don't remember," I sob. Jesus Christ, do I have problems? "Just want you!"
His face glows, his lips split into a wide grin of satisfaction.
"So you want me, do you, princess?"
I nod pathetically. He's throbbing, slamming into me hard enough it may draw a third climax in a row.
His laugh is cruel above me, his lips landing on top of mine in a wet, possessive kiss. His tongue fills my mouth, forcing me to take him as the sounds of him fucking me like a depraved animal makes me whine in desperation.
He pulls away, a long string of spit between us connecting our lips.
"Then I'll give you what you want, princess," he says. "But there's a price."
"Uh huh," I agree. My eyes roll back as my body twitches, barely able to focus as he thrusts into me.
"Look at me," he says patiently, tugging my hair once more. When I manage to remember how, he let's out a long 'aw,' smiling down at me with false sweetness as I stare dumbly into his eyes. I suppose I'm staring into his eyes. God, I'm stupid.
His thumb grazes my jaw, tutting as he examines my face closely.
"Your eyes are pretty...*" he says, his voice sweet and tender, almost like I've made him soft and vulnerable, but his cock pounding into me causes the beginning of a headache that won't let me forget how much we hate each other. "Your eyes are pretty, your mouth is pretty..."
I lick my lips and nod lightly.
"You are just such a pretty girl, aren't you?" He asks. I nod, my body twitching uselessly as my third climax washes over me.
"Good girl," he praises. "All fucked out over me. That's good."
Suddenly and without warning, he pulls out quickly and shoves my face down close to his cock, coming all over my face. It's thick and everywhere. In my hair, my mouth. I can't even open my eyes.
"Stay like that," Mike commands as he lays me on my back. His softening cock reenters me and pumps lazily, his purpose to make sure he's fully emptied.
"Any new thoughts?" He asks me in a strange tone, light and amused. I simply moan, relishing the moment. He chuckles and spreads my legs so he can better see what is happening between us. It isn't until I hear the chime of his camera confirming a recording that I realize what he's done.
"Mike?" I ask, barely able to think straight.
A low laugh escapes him, cruel but warm.
"I want to show your new boyfriend the real you," he says. "Make sure we're all on the same page here, right?
you HAVE to write a fic of billy from burn, i beg youusdjfsudfjskdksad
A Quickie to Relax
Heyyyyyy. Again, sorry this took so long. My winter break kinda sucked and I just had no motivation to do anything. I am finally back at it, and have more motivation and yeah thank you for being patient with me! I have another fic coming after this as a little present, so be ready for a Derek Danforth fic! There is going to be an overflow of those coming. Anyways, I love you all who support me and I hope this story lives up to some of my others!
CW: smut, f!reader, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, dom!billy, semi-rough sex, mentions of firearms(promise that aspect has nothing to do with the sex)
Word Count: 1,505
“Come on Billy, I don't think this is a good idea,” you mumbled as he parked outside of what seemed like an abandoned gas station. The night was cold, an eerie tone filled the air as rain sprinkled down from the cloud-ridden sky. Billy turned to you, setting his jaw in place.
“Y/N, you know the shit I’m in? You said you would do this with me, why are you backing out now?”
“I just…” you hesitated for a moment, thinking before you spoke next. “I just think we may be… Lowballing it with a gas station that looks abandoned.” His face lit up from headlights of a car pulling into the closest gas pump. His eyes showed an emotion you weren’t able to quite put your finger on. You out your hand on his cheek, running your thumb along his cheek bone. “I love you, Billy, but this is fucking stupid. Why can’t we just get out of here, run away and forget about those stupid bikers?” He turned his head away from your touch, a visible frustration setting into his expression.
“You… You don’t get it, y/n. They’ll kill me if I dont get them that money, you fucking understand that right?” He stared at the front doors of the gas station. “I can’t not do this,” he turned his head to look at you. You stared back into his eyes, wavering concern covering your face. He shook his head. “y/n-”
“Billy, I can’t do this. I think we should just drive and start over-”
“No, y/n, no!” he shouted, hitting the steering wheel. You jumped, his eyes darting toward you, seeing the obvious discomfort that him shouting gave you. “Jesus, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He grumbled.
You hesitantly lean over the seat, pulling his chin to look at you. “Let me,” you mumble, bringing him closer, your lips grazing against his as you spoke. “Let me help you out there, Billy, maybe clear your mind a little?” You felt him shift in his seat, sighing against your lips before you pressed yours against his. Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling of his hand resting on the back of your head taking you by surprise. His tongue pushed into your mouth, you groaning at the sensation. He deepened the kiss, pulling you closer to him, his breathing becoming more erratic as the seconds passed. You groaned as his free hand groped over your tits, the heat filling your core with arousal.
“Get in the back,” he growled. “Now.” You didn’t hesitate, stumbling over the center console and falling onto the back seat. You giggled as he followed suit, landing on top of you, crashing his lips into yours again. His mouth parted slightly, giving you the chance to push your tongue into his mouth, making him groan against you. He pulled you down to where your back was laying against the back seat. “I need,” he panted, fumbling with your jeans. “Need to get this shit off.” You bit your lip as you watched him unzip your jeans, swiftly slipping them off. He looked at you with a hungry expression. You smirked, opening your legs wider for him. “I can see,” he mumbled as he got lower down, his hot breath touching your core. You shuddered as he hooked his finger around your panties, pulling them to the side. “I can see how wet you already are.” His tongue attached to your clit, a low groan escaping his lips. Your back arched as he moved his tongue into your opening, tongue-fucking you. You grabbed his hair, tugging at it softly. A soft moan escaped your lips as you leaned your head back, bumping against the door.
“Fuck, Billy,” you managed out. His actions became quicker. He grabbed at your thighs, running his nails down them. You moaned, pushing himself onto as much as you could, pushing your thighs against the side of his head. You felt the heat building in your lower belly as Billy attached his tongue to your clit again, relentlessly sucking and nipping on it. His hands grabbed at your hips, borderline suffocating himself as he pushed you further onto his face. He pressed his lips against your clit, sending you over the edge, your body jolting as waves of pleasure ripped from you. Billy did not wait long before sitting up in the seat, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down enough for him to take his cock out, spitting on his hand and stroking himself a couple times before pulling you onto him. His grip on your hips tightened as he pushed into you, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. A hit of frustration hit your mind at the lack of being able to see him, not to mention sucking his dick. You moan as he stretched you out, your head falling onto his shoulder. He began to rock your hips against him. Tremors of pleasure ran through you with the friction of your clit rubbing on his pubic bone.
“Fucking so wet for me,” Billy mumbled into your ear. “You know just how to take care of me when I get worked up, huh?” He was breathless, but did not stop his own movements of pushing his hips up onto you. You whined at the aggression that was hidden in his movements, but fuck you loved seeing this side of him. He removed a hand from your hip, bringing it up to hair, pulling you back to you could look at him. His nose and cheeks were a shade of red and his mouth was slightly open. “Look at you, all fucked out already and I haven’t even gotten to cum.” You began to speed up your movements, making him suck in a breath of air before letting out a loud groan as he leaned his head back onto the seat.
“B-Billy-” you moaned out. His movements were sloppy as he trailed sloppy kisses down your neck.
“Y/n, oh fuck y/n youre so fucking good,” he breathed out. “You take my cock so fucking well, such a good fucking girl.” Heat rose up in you again as you felt his dick twitch inside you, telling you he was close too. He pulled your head back by your hair as you grinded on him, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking at a sensitive spot that send you over the edge. You didnt get much chance to ride your orgasm out before he pushed you off of him. “Fuck,” he groaned, grabbing his cock squeezing it. “Put that pretty mouth of yours to use, now wouldja?” You contorted your body to where you were holding onto him. He grabbed your hair, turning it into a makeshift ponytail, pushing you down onto him. He threw his head back as he stuffed your mouth, thrusting up into you, abusing your throat. You groaned onto him, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. He was so fucking big, but you liked the rough treatment he had with you. Without warning, he held you down onto his cock, the tip pushing against your throat making you gag. He groaned, body confusing as you felt him cum. You took it all, not wanting any to escape your mouth. You pulled off of him, gasping for air. He grabbed your face in his hands, looking you over for a moment. He wiped the tears that fell from your eyes. “Was that too much?” His aggression had turned to concern in an instant. You shook your head, getting your breathing back to mostly normal.
“H-hot,” you managed out. He smiled, grabbing your jeans off the floor of the back seat, helping you back into them before planting a kiss on your forehead. You watched him pull his jeans back up, buttoning them before reaching into the front seat and grabbing his backpack.
“Are you ready?” He smiled, clearly less stressed than he was before.
“You are positive that this is going to be okay?” He reached into the bag, pulling out a gun and tossing it over to you. You looked at him, eyes wide. “What the fuck is this, Billy?”
“It’s not loaded, don't worry. If they feel threatened, they are more likely to comply. You groan, stepping out of the car and tucking the gun into the back of your jeans. You threw your jacket on, thankfully covering the bulk of the gun. You shook your head, looking at Billy over the hood of his car.
“You are literally so stupid for this, you know.”
“It’s life or death.”
“Or 5 years in prison.”
“Well, I guess.” He shrugged, shutting the car door and walking behind the car, planting a kiss on your cheek when he approached you. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” You took a deep breath, putting your hands in your jacket pockets as you closely trailed Billy, following him into the gas station to go through with your plan.
Chapter Summary: You finally meet your charming, famous mentor. He’s a lot more irritating than you expected.
Chapter warnings: Mentions of death kinda, slight mentions of forced prostitution
THE LUCKY ONE MASTERLIST
Finnick looked at the girl before him. You looked to be about his age, which meant this would’ve been your last year being able to be reaped. You were facing opposite him, but he studied what he could of you.
You seemed a bit frail in a way. Like you wouldn’t last 10 minutes in the games.
You turned to around, first looking at Mags, and then at him. He locked eyes with yours, and he studied your features now that he could see your face better.
You looked almost innocent. And he wondered if you would prove him wrong with what he assumed about you. He realized he was just staring so he gave you a small smile. You looked away quickly after that and his smile faded.
Beau called out the male tributes name, Callum Rivers, and a strong, bulky looking boy walked on stage. Finnick recognized him. He was one of the toughest fighters at the school district 4.
The two of you shook hands, and Finnick saw the big difference in height, weight, and such. You looked like you didn’t stand a chance. The peacekeepers guided you two into the Justice Building, and he locked eyes with you once more. A smirk formed on his face.
Because Finnick knew better than to judge a book by its cover.
***
“Promise me, you’ll make it back.” Your mother begged.
“Mom, you know I can’t-“
“Promise me, Y/N. You’ve trained for this, you can make it. I know you can.” She cupped your face in her hands, her thumb wiping away a single tear that fell down your cheek.
“Okay.” You whispered. The peacekeepers barged through the doors, taking your mother by her arms and out of the room. She called you name, and you called to her before the doors closed shut. When they did, a sob finally escaped your lips. You put a hand to your mouth and calmed yourself.
You were escorted out to the car, and then finally made it to the train. Beau guided you and Callum into one of the carts, and your eyes widen when you see how nice it looks.
The velvety chairs and patterned wallpaper, not to mention the tables full of different types of desserts and treats, weren’t like anything you had seen before.
“Have a seat, I’m sure you’re starving. Your mentor should be here in about-.” Beau was cut off with the train door sliding open, in walking none other than Finnick Odair. For the “capitol darling”, he looked so normal. Especially compared to Beau.
“Well, here he is now. I’ll leave you three to it.” Beau said with that same smile, exiting the train cart.
“Hello. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you two. I’m Finnick Odair, your mentor.” He stretched his hand out, and you just looked at it, not doing anything. After a moment, Callum took his hand and shook it.
“Callum Rivers. Pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Odair.” Callum said with a smile.
“Likewise. And please, call me Finnick.” Finnick returned the smile, before looking over at you.
“Finnick Odair.” He said again. He stretched his hand out to you, and you looked at it again.
“I know who you are.” You said with a small nod. Of course you knew who he was. You still didn’t shake his hand, and after a moment he just put it down, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips.
“Everyone, knows who you are.” Callum added, trying to make it sound nicer. That big smile still on his face. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.
“Well, happy to be working with some admirers of mine.” Finnick’s smirk widened as he looked at you. You scoffed lightly at his words. You definitely weren’t his admirer. Especially since the fact that he’s killed people, become the capitol’s little pet, and seems to have taken so much pride in it.
“Oh, I’m not an admirer. Sorry if that’s hard for you to hear. Don’t wanna bruise your ego.” You teased. A small chuckle escaped his lips.
“Honey, your words do nothing to me. There are thousands of other people completely enamored with me.” He stepped closer to you.
“You or your body?” He tilted his head at your brave words, the smirk on his face widening. But, he’d have to admit, he was impressed. Before he could respond, Callum interrupted.
“So, uh, where’s the other lady?” Callum awkwardly asked, referring to Mags. You just now remembered her, barely realizing she wasn’t here.
“Mags is resting and, I’ll remind you she isn’t really able to mentor as much. It’ll just be me most of the time.” He explained. You’d almost forgotten Mags was mute. He was right. She probably wouldn’t been of much help, but only because she physically couldn’t even if she wanted to.
“So, let’s eat shall we? We can get started on some things you need to know in the arena.” Finnick gestured to the dinner table behind you two. You nodded, turning and getting the seat right in front of you.
They both sat on either sides of you, and you looked at all the food in front of you. It was the most you’ve seen. You were usually used to just eating fish or just anything you could catch in the ocean. Your eyes widen a bit and you feel your mouth water but you keep your composure and serve yourself as Finnick begins talking.
“Number one thing, get water. You can go without food for a few days but water is a necessity.” He poured himself coffee in his cup before continuing.
“Pretty sure that’s common sense.” You said.
“You’d be surprised.” Finnick responded with a small smile, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Okay, so besides the obvious, what do we do to not die in there?” Callum asked, leaning forward in his chair. Finnick took one more sip of wine before putting it down.
“Sponsors.” He said with a smile. “You get people to like you. That way when your in the arena, sponsors send you things to help you survive.” He explained.
“And how exactly are we supposed to do that?” Callum asked, taking a bite of his food.
“Charm them, give them a good show, and just try to be likable overall.”
“So, just act like you?” You asked Finnick, a small sarcastic smile on your face. He leaned forward in his chair, a smirk on his face.
“Exactly.” He said, sitting back again and taking another sip of coffee. “So, you might wanna lose that attitude, honey. It’s not gonna get you anywhere.” You scoff lightly at his words, rolling your eyes. He was starting to get on your nerves.
“Yeah, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You say sarcastically. You wipe your mouth with your napkin before throwing it on the table and standing up, beginning to make your way out of the train cart.
“Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, sweetheart. We’re not done here.” Finnick called out to you.
“I am.” You said, before leaving the train cart, the door sliding closed behind you.
Finnick watched as you left the train cart, a small laugh of disbelief and amusement escaping his lips. He was also a bit intrigued at your behavior towards him. And a small smile formed on his lips. He looked back over at Callum, who was still looking at the train cart door, a look of shock on his face.
“Well, I guess she’ll be missing out on all the fun. Let’s continue, shall we?” Finnick took a sip of his coffee. Callum nodded at his words, clearing his throat and sitting up in his chair.
Finnick gave one more look at the train cart door, before looking back over at Callum and continuing.
***
You felt like you had 3 layers less of skin from all the scrubbing and waxing. When it was finally over, you were taken to see your stylist, Elise. She looked like any other capitol stylist, pink hair, big lashes, pale makeup. But, she was nice. That’s all that really mattered to you.
The dress very uncomfortable. It was a sea blue color, the skirt mimicking waves with it’s layers. The corset was tight, making it hard to breath. Not to mention the uncomfortable amount of cleavage it showed and the seashells covering your breast.
Your makeup and hair were covered in sparkles, pearls, and seashells. Callum basically wore the male version of your outfit, but he was shirtless, a fishnet hanging around his neck covering at least a little bit of his chest.
Elise fixes the pearls around your neck and some pieces of hair.
“Smile big, and stand up straight.” She said. You simply nodded, stepping onto the chariot, Callum opposite you. A fanfare began to play and the chariots began making their way down the path. You held on tight to the chariot when it began moving, scared you might fall off.
The crowds cheered loudly, roses being thrown left and right at you. You looked into the crowds, their brightly colored wigs making them hard not to miss. You remembered what Finnick said. And, if getting people to like you was the key to surviving, then so be it.
You put on the best smile you could, looking at the crowds and trying to look as charming as possible. You looked over at Callum who was doing the same thing, but turned your attention away from him back to the crowds until you approached the front.
Your eyes landed on President Snow as he looked down at everyone. He had a smile on his face, and you wondered how such an evil man could even try to look nice.
“Tributes, we welcome you. We salute your courage and your sacrifice. And we wish you, a happy Hunger Games.”
His gaze went to you for the slightest moment.
“And may the odds be ever in your favor.”
………………………………………………………………………….
A/N: I’m so proud of myself for getting this out on time everyone give me a round of applause for that please. Like, this has never happened before. Anyways, first chapter out WOO HOO this is kind of a slow burn but there will be some tension I PROMISE. Thank you SO MUCH for reading and I’ll hopefully see you for the next chapter I love you.
prompt: you’ve been babysitting abby for mike nearly three months now. he constantly apologizes for not paying you yet, you constantly tell him it doesn't bother you. one night he comes back from his shift at freddy’s and has a different idea on how to compensate you for all of your hard work.
word count: this was supposed to be a short dirty work that somehow turned into a 2.2k monster. told you i love to ramble.
authors note: remember when i said i might write smut if i was just so moved by an ask? well turns out my very first ask moved me. y'all are nasty, i love it. mike, of course, is a munch because why would he be anything else? i never, with a capital N, write smut so please bear with me if it sucks. i hope whoever requested this loves it! i wrote it instead of finishing my scientific article for bio so it better be decent hehe.
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The sound of the front door opening followed by heavy footsteps woke you up from where you were dozing off on the couch. You gazed at the clock on the side table near you and sure enough, 6:10 blinked back at you. Mike was finally home. You heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, most likely shedding his work vest and hanging his keys on the little hook by the door.
You yawned, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you sat up on the couch. The blanket you used to cover yourself falling to pool around your waist. Mike finally made his way to the living room, sitting on the couch with a soft grunt.
“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice rough from lack of use. “Abby eat anything?”
“Yeah, a little,” You mutter back through a barely concealed yawn, head lolling to rest on the back of the couch. “You know how she is.”
He hums in acknowledgement but stays silent apart from that, keeping his gaze trained on the infomercial playing on TV. A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You sit up even further on the couch, leaning against the arm rest facing Mike. The blue/green hue of the TV bathed him in light, his hair was unruly with curls sticking out at awkward angles. He had deep bags under his eyes. Just as you thought about getting up to take off, he spoke up again.
“I promise I’ll get you the money,” he says softly, not taking his eyes off the TV, “I…I just need some time.”
You scoff in mock annoyance, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Mike, you know I don’t care about the money. I don’t mind doing this for you.” You reply, nudging his knee with your foot softly then just leaving it perched on his lap.
Mike finally turns to look at you, there's a strange look on his face that you can’t quite place, but you give him a small smile all the same. He stares at you for a few beats, you can practically see the gears turning in his head.
“You deserve something,” he whispers, his brows furrowed in frustration. “You do so much for me, it’s only fair.” As he speaks, he slowly moves his hand off the couch to your ankle still resting on his thigh, he starts rubbing slow circles over the skin there. His eyes never left yours as he touched you, a very obvious question in them. Asking if you wanted this.
Heat instantly rushed to your belly, cheeks turning a light shade of red at his touch. You’d always thought Mike was attractive, but you never would have imagined he’d want to be anything more than friends. Since he was already so busy with taking care of Abby and his hellish new job.
You swallow once before speaking, your throat feeling dry all of a sudden. “What are you suggesting?” You ask so softly, wondering if he even heard you. Mikes’ fingers stop in favor of trailing his hand up your calf in a featherlight touch, disappearing under the blanket to seek out more of your soft skin. Your heart is beating so fast you think you might die, the sound of it echoing in your ears loudly.
Mike's big brown eyes stare into yours with a newfound intensity, visibly shocked that you're reacting so viscerally to his touch, his pupils are blown to hell. Chocolate brown being swallowed by black. His tongue coming out to sweep over his top lip.
“How about you,” he says slowly, scooting closer to you on the small couch. He crowds into your personal space like he belongs there. Mike’s lips inches away from yours. He smells like old leather and dust from being cramped in the security office at Freddy’s. Your chest heaves as your eyes flit back and forth from his eyes to his lips. Seconds drag by like hours as you painstakingly wait for him to finish his sentence. “Stay right there while I make you feel good.” He finally says, his breath fanning over your face hotly. You can’t even speak, afraid of how desperate you might sound, just nodding your head roughly, not looking away from his hungry gaze.
Mike’s hand runs up your leg quickly after you give him the green-light, slipping further under the blanket and higher up your leg until he reaches his destination. He rubs you gently through your shorts, your breath hitches sharply at what should be just a simple touch, but you’re still so worked up from earlier that it feels ten times more extreme. You grasp the blanket still strewn over your lap tightly in your fists, it's the only thing keeping you from seeing Mike’s hand at work between your legs.
Mike reacts to touching you for the first time like he can feel it too. His breath stutters out of his chest, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your already wet folds through your thin cotton sleeping shorts. “Fuck.” He breathes out quietly, so quietly you doubt he even meant to say it out loud. He opens his eyes again, breathing slightly rougher as he stares at you through his arousal induced haze and heavy eyelids.
Seeing your face must spur him on because he starts rubbing with more fervor than before, his clever fingers applying more pressure making you moan softly. You cut yourself off quickly, eyes darting down the hall to Abby's bedroom door. It's still closed, there's no light leaking through the crack between it and the floor.
"Shit, Mike." You whine quietly.
Mike groans softly at the sound of his name leaving your lips, body trembling slightly with the feeling. Suddenly he wrenches his hand out from under the blanket, and rips it off your lap frantically. You gasp sharply at the cool air breaking through the bubble of warmth the blanket provided, involuntarily closing your legs.
Mike pushes up from his position on the couch next to you, knee walking over so he's kneeling in-front of your clenched thighs. You're still slightly sprawled across the cushions, leaning on the arm of the couch.
"Do you know how crazy you make me?" He asks roughly, putting both his hands on your still closed knees. It takes a second for your brain to catch up to answer him, after a few moments you finally manage a faint shake of your head.
"No?" He asks, tilting his head to the left slightly. "Let me show you then."
Mike grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him, and leads your hand down into his lap. Your breath catches in your throat when he places your hand directly over his clothed erection, but it gets drowned out by Mike's louder whine thanks to you touching him for the first time. You drag your eyes downward, his dark grey sweatpants leave little to the imagination. He got more worked up touching you than you first thought, if the wet patch forming near the tip of his hard-on was anything to go by.
As soon as you started to rub him with purpose, Mike grabbed your wrist, halting your efforts. "No," He said breathlessly, practically panting. "No, this is for you tonight. Just wanna focus on you."
He let go of your wrist, turning his head in your direction. Both of you failed to realize how close you'd gotten when he dragged you to him. Your noses practically touch when he turns, catching you both off guard. His eyes travel down to your lips, staring at how red and puffy they'd gotten from you biting them to muffle your moans.
"How sweet of you, Mike." You whisper, leaning in just a tad closer. He lets out a guttural groan and closes the distance between your lips, claiming your mouth with his own. He leans forward, gently guiding you to lay back on the couch. His body completely covering yours as the two of you makeout, his arms on either side of your head and his hips slotting against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock against your cunt. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up to meet his.
Mike breaks the kiss with a whine, trying to muffle the noise by shoving his face in your neck. You bring your hands up to tangle in his curly hair, yanking it roughly as he starts littering kisses all along your collarbones. Nipping and sucking in-between his gasping little moans as you twist and pull his hair in your grip.
He tears his mouth away to stare up at you through his lashes, his lips are swollen and red. “Please,” He gasps out, his hips unconsciously grinding down into your thigh. “Let me eat you out. Please. Tell me I can, say I can.” He babbles, hips rutting faster every second you don’t answer him.
“Yes.” You exclaim as quietly as possible. “Do it, Mike. Eat me out.”
Mike’s whole body shudders at your words, eyes falling closed for a second before he quickly slides down your body, leaving an odd kiss here and there as he goes. He brings his hands up to grip the waistband of your shorts, pausing to take a single steadying breath, then he tugs them down along with your panties and tosses them aside. He stares down at you in awe for a good few moments before he lays on his stomach, right in front of your dripping cunt.
Mike kisses along the inside of your thighs for a bit, licking everywhere but where you want him to the most. “Thank you.” he mutters, tone way too earnest for the situation at hand but you don’t have much time to think about it before he’s diving face first into your thighs.
“Fuck!” You let your voice get way too loud in the quiet atmosphere of the house, but you can’t help it. You didn’t think Mike had lots of experience because of some late night drunken talks before, but he was either lying or holding out. He works his tongue expertly along every inch of you. Every swirl, flick, or suck has you catapulting to the edge way faster than you’d imagined.
It doesn't help that Mike keeps letting out these noises. Small needy whines or deep guttural groans that you can feel. He’s moaning like he’s the one getting head, unashamed and authentic. It’s so fucking sexy.
“Shit Mike, I’m close. I’m so close.” You whisper too quietly for him to hear with his head trapped between your thighs, but it doesn’t matter. Mike brings his thumb up to lightly circle your clit as he laps against your entrance, and you're gone.
Your thighs shake as you release, grabbing on Mike’s hair for dear life as you go through the most intense orgasm ever. He moans into your cunt, working you through the aftershocks. He laves his tongue along you until the overstimulation gets to be too much and you drag his face away by his hair.
He sits up, the bottom half of his face covered in spit and slick. That visual alone is almost enough to get you ready for round two. It’s silent except for the heavy breathing coming from you both.
After he catches his breath, Mike retrieves the blanket from behind his back somewhere to cover the lower half of your body. Your thighs are still shaking as he lays next to you, it’s a tight squeeze but neither of you seem to mind. He kisses the side of your face sweetly, throwing his arm around your waist to pull you in even closer.
You finally regain enough conscience to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off?” You ask, “I mean I can’t feel my legs but I’m sure we could think of something.” Mike only laughs quietly, shaking his head. “Maybe next time, this was about you.” He said, beginning to rub his fingers back and forth on your hip. “Plus I, uh, I already sort of…” He trails off, a flush forming on his cheeks.
It took you a second to realize what he was saying, but when it clicked you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your mouth. You lifted up the blanket covering the two of you, and sure enough Mike had an impressive wet patch seeping through his sweats.
He pinches your hip lightly, offended by your giggling. “Don’t laugh at me,” He complains with a smile, yanking the blanket back up. “I couldn’t help it.”
You stifle another laugh to the best of your ability, though your shoulders still shake ever so slightly. You turn your head to press a kiss to his lips. It’s different from the previous kisses you shared tonight. It’s slower and softer, full of a new emotion that you both feel, but know that it can wait to be talked about later. For now you’re both just basking in the afterglow.
You break the kiss first, pulling back only slightly to lean your forehead against his. You both smile at each other for a second.
“Okay,” You give in, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from his face. “But believe that tomorrow is all about you.”
