you guys really liked the first twt link, so I made a pt.2 <3
cw: fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding, masked men (ghostface), 'making a sex tape', dry humping, car sex, riding, angry sex
You knew the consequences of what would happened to you if you stepped out of place. Who can blame you? Maybe acting out of line will force him to treat you like the whorish little slut you are~
Just before he was about to leave he decided he needed to give you...a small reminder of him~
streaming was something you really liked doing on the weekends...you decided to bring a special guest for a special collab~
having a man is nice...but having a man who knows how to use his fingers to (actually) make you reach orgasm??? Thats a rare find...
You went to his house with the intention of watching movies. well...you did end up watching some random ass film-but 20 minutes in you guys decided to make your own homemade movie~
your boyfriend was such a gentleman-took you out to a nice restaurant, payed for dinner and treated you like a princess! You were spent, all you wanted to do was go in bed and stay up all night...lets just say the 2 of you were way too excited to wait~
live laugh fucking LOVE dry humping.
It doesn't take a lot for your boyfriend to get jealous. Today you found out that it's actually really fucking easy-laugh and playfully hit another guy and your bf will be FUMING.
- thinking about michael finally coming home from his shift and you just missed him so much
michael afton x (afab)reader
cw: nsfw! basically all smut, grinding/dry humping, slight dirty talk, marking, fingering, cunninglingus, overstim, he’s extremely handsy, softdom!michael, sub!reader, he’s also just so caring SSHSJSKKD
*can be considered movie or game michael (whatever you like, i wrote this to fit both tbh) (but it may be slightly ooc)
wc: 2.6k
…
a/n: hi!! this is actually my first time uploading on here, as well as my first time ever posting fanfiction. i ask that you all please be kind, but don’t be afraid to give me tips or recommendations! 🤧 i’m really excited to start posting more fics and i hope you all enjoy! <3
…
you heard the front door creak open as the sun started creeping in the room from the cracks between the curtains. you turned in bed to glance at the clock on the nightstand reading 6:37 AM. michael must’ve just gotten home from work.
the sound of boots being shuffled off was heard past the bedroom door, and keys being tossed on the hook. the soft thuds of footsteps coming towards your shared room increased in volume as michael tried his best to not wake you.
it never worked, though. you were always awake and waiting for him anyways.
with eyes still heavy with sleep, you slowly blinked up at the door knob turning ever so quietly as michael stepped into the room.
“hey.” you quietly greeted, muffled by the thick duvet.
“i’m sorry, darling, did i wake you?” michael whispered back, walking over to your side of the bed.
to be quite honest, you haven’t really gotten much sleep since he left for his shift earlier that night, more so missing the warmth from him next to you in bed.
“not really… i haven’t slept much.” you confess, sitting up a little as michael brushed a few strands away from your face. then, moving his hand down to caress your cheek and jaw.
“i’m sorry, i know these hours are hard, but you know i’ll make it up to you somehow.” he said softly.
you peered up to look at his eyes, the blueness of them sparkling so beautifully in the early morning rays of the sun. he was always so gentle with you, so perfect.
he walked over to his side of the bed, unclipping his badge and name tag, then placing both on his nightstand next to him.
“i just missed you so much, michael.” you spoke, scooting closer to him on the bed as he started undoing his tie.
oh.
he caught a glimmer of something in your eye as you said that, diminishing any sort of exhaustion in his body from his shift.
he quirked his brow at your words and hummed in response, the sun creeping in more to cast golden streaks along your face.
beautiful. he thought.
“…how much?” michael asked innocently, but deep down he needed to know how you missed him.
“i just, i couldn’t stop thinking about you.” you murmur, looking away, embarrassed at your blushing state.
michael turned and softly grabbed your chin, guiding your face to look back at him.
“thinking about me, how?” he questioned, not bothering to even try to hide the grin on his face.
he caught you.
words clearly weren’t on your side today, so you did the next best thing to show him. you glanced down to look at his lips and leaned in, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips.
“that’s all?” he asked, feigning surprise, knowing you weren’t only thinking about kissing him.
as he shuffled closer to you, leaning back a little and letting his legs spread out in front of him, his eyes bore through your skull, dark with something that had your heart rate rapidly increasing.
“because, i had something a little bit different on my mind.” michael reveals, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap, his head leaning back against the headrest of the bed, his knees bending to hold you against your back.
you braced your hands on his chest as he held you firmly in place, straddling him, pressed against him.
“you know, I think about you a lot while at work.” michael says, rubbing his hands soothingly along the sides of your waist.
“it gets so boring there at night, knowing you’re all alone in bed, without me.”
his hands creep down further, laying in the spot where your thighs and hips meet, his thumb outlining the crease there, making you shudder.
his hands move ever so slightly to start to grip harder on the curve of your hips, palms pressed against the sides of your ass.
“i start to wonder what you must be doing by yourself, while i’m not there to satisfy you.”
you move a little, trying to rock your hips, craving any sort of friction against him.
“i get so worked up, y’know?” michael tilts his head up to whisper in your ear, his breath fanning hot against your neck.
he starts peppering kisses along your neck, stopping to suck lightly on that spot that has you gasping. you crane your head to the side, allowing him to have more room to mark you.
“michael, please.” you whimper, his mouth continuing to lick and suck on your neck. his grip still iron against your hips, squeezing slightly every so often.
“please what? you have to use your words, darling.” michael taunts, the grip on your hips loosening as he starts running his hands under your shirt, fingers splayed against your lower stomach, his touch burning against your bare skin.
your hands fly to his collar, starting to undo the buttons down his shirt, earning an amused snicker from him.
“impatient, are we?” michael retracts his fingers from under your shirt and catches both your hands, stopping you in your tracks as he leans in to kiss you again.
he kisses you harder this time, with a little more fervor. you return with that same hunger, deepening the kiss as his hand comes to grip the nape of your neck. his other hand returning to your bare waist, his thumb rubbing lazy circles there.
you arch into his touch, grinding down harder. the movement of your hips elicits a small groan from him and the sound is intoxicating.
you continue rolling your hips as michael’s tongue darts out into your mouth, knocking the air out of your lungs.
you can’t help but mewl in the kiss at the feeling of rubbing yourself on michael, and he whimpers in response, his fingers dancing further up your stomach and ghosting underneath the outline of your bare breasts.
“please- michael, i need more.” you whine out, gasping for air.
next thing you know, your shirt is lifted above your head, discarded somewhere on the floor, and you’re flipped onto your back, michael looming overhead, his knees pressing down in the bed on either side of your legs, caging you in.
you start to try and unbutton his shirt again, fingers shaking desperately as he starts kissing from the corner of your mouth down to your neck.
you finally get the last button undone as he takes a moment to shimmy out of the confining dress shirt, leaning back down to continue kissing around your collarbones, sucking rather harshly at one spot to leave a mark.
you suck in a harsh breath of air as his fingers come up to trace around the swell of your breasts while his mouth reaches further down.
he cups your right breast, fitting easily in the palm of his hand, and massages gently as his tongue starts to trace a line down your cleavage. you shudder at the feeling and arch your back, trying to get even closer to his touch.
he then rolls your right nipple between his fingers, while his tongue goes to lap at the other neglected one, earning a guttural moan from you, and you feel his mouth curve into a smile at the reaction.
he continues his assault on your chest and sucks harshly on the left bud, making you let out a surprised gasp as your fingers tangle in his brown hair.
he switches his mouth over to your right nipple as his hand goes to play with the left one, repeating the same tortuous motions.
it’s all so overwhelming and you feel yourself growing hot at your core watching his muscles flex as he holds himself up by one arm.
“mph- michael, please, i can’t.” you cry out in slight overstimulation from his endless sucking at your chest.
“shh, yes you can.” michael soothes you as he starts to kiss down further, making eye contact with you the whole way down your stomach, your heart rate not getting any slower, and your body getting set ablaze from his stare.
he positions himself between your legs and rubs his hands along the sides of your waist and hips, dipping his fingers teasingly into the waistband of your shorts, only to pull them out again and trace his fingers along the hem.
you’re a stuttering mess as you try to hold back your whimpers and pleas, begging him to touch you.
“touch me, please.” you plead out desperately, throwing your head back to hide your face, cheeks hot from the position you’re in right now.
“you see how easy it is to simply use your words.” michael responds, thumbs rubbing where your waistband meets your skin.
he slides his fingers to hook around the waistband of your shorts and slowly pulls them down your legs, his fingertips brushing against your bare skin, each touch sending electric jolts to your core.
once he tosses your shorts to the floor, he makes his way back up your legs, kissing all the way up at a tortuously slow pace, driving you insane.
when he finally reached your thighs, he nudged your legs apart with his hands as he started to suck and kiss along the inside of your thighs, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most.
you felt his breath fan across your underwear as he observed just how much you missed him.
“beautiful.” he whispered, reaching a tentative finger out to leave a featherlike touch to the dampened spot in your underwear.
you cried out at the small touch, proving just how sensitive, yet needy, he’s gotten you.
michael then slid both his hands up the sides of your thighs, hooking his index finger and thumb around the thin waistband of your underwear, revealing all of yourself to him.
“so beautiful.” he repeated, groaning to himself as he took in the view of you laid out underneath him, the sunrise casting a golden hue over every curve and crease of your body, which had him saying a silent prayer to himself in his head.
you were so perfect like this, perfect for him.
he wasted no time, grabbing your legs and hoisting them over his shoulder to gain better access as he leaned down.
he placed a kiss just above your clit before he licked a long stripe through your folds, making you grip the sheets with one hand and tug on his hair with the other.
he licked slowly from your hole to just below your clit, making you writhe in the sheets while his hands came to hold you down by your hips.
you looked down at him through lidded eyes as he stared up at you, his eyes sparkling, but his gaze piercing.
he used this as the opportunity to flick his tongue against your clit, pulling a high-pitched moan out of you.
your body twitched as he started relentlessly flicking his tongue over the bud, tears stinging the corner of your eyes as you could no longer control the endless whimpers from your lips.
he then sucked, long and hard, on your clit making your legs involuntarily close as you nearly screamed.
he groaned, sending vibrations through your core as he removed his hands from holding down your hips to yank your thighs away from crushing his head, his palms pressing your thighs down onto the bed as he sucked and licked like a man starved.
“michael-ohmygod-please don’t stop.” you screamed out, tears sliding down your cheeks in pure bliss.
he sucked even faster, even harder, as he felt your hips stuttering and your moans getting higher, knowing you were getting close.
the knot in your stomach was so close to untying as his tongue alternated from flicking to sucking.
your back arched up off the bed and just as you were about to teeter off the edge, michael slowed his movements down completely, coming to a devastating halt.
“wha- why, michael please.” you whined out in protest, looking down at him, eyes glossed over.
just as you were about to protest further, he took one hand off your leg and started rubbing circles over your clit with his thumb.
“remember to be patient, darling.” michael laughed, increasing the speed of his thumb on your clit.
you cried out, your knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets so hard, and michael whimpered as you tugged harder on his hair.
his thumb stopped as his middle finger prodded at your entrance, swiping it through your fold to collect the wetness there before easily slipping into you.
you let out a broken sob at the sudden intrusion, as michael’s mouth returned on your clit.
he started to thrust in and out of you, increasing the speed as you leaked all over his hand.
he took this as a sign to add another finger, his middle and ring finger now knuckles deep in you as he relentlessly curled them inside you, reaching the spot that had you thrashing in his grip.
tears were now streaming down your cheeks as you choked on your own sobs of pleasure.
the combination of his fingers hitting you so deep inside, and his tongue flicking and sucking on your clit had you nearing that peak again.
“michael ‘m so close.” you bawled, thighs beginning to shake from the stimulation.
michael removed his mouth for a second to watch as your hole greedily sucked in his fingers so easily.
“look at you, taking me so well.” michael purred, thrusting his fingers even faster, feeling you start to clench around them.
he reattached his mouth to your clit, sucking brutally as his fingers continued to hit that spot over and over.
you moaned out incoherent pleas as your hand in his hair shoved his head down even more, grinding against his tongue.
he hummed at the action, the vibrations on your clit sending you over the edge as your body stilled and your mouth fell open, his fingers never slowing down to coax you through your orgasm as you clenched around his fingers.
you wailed out as you came hard on his fingers, his tongue incessantly flicking at your clit, prolonging the shockwaves of pleasure as your body spasmed.
even as your body stopped shaking and your breathing slowed, michael didn’t even stop, mouth sucking hard and fingers continuing to thrust in and out to ride out your orgasm.
“michael, ah it’s too much-mpfh!” you cried out in overstimulation, legs threatening to close again.
but he still didn’t stop, and you felt the knot in your stomach rekindling as he scissored his fingers in and out your hole, and his tongue started tracing circles over your clit.
the overstimulation paired with the view of him so determined on making you come again had you seeing stars, his biceps straining as his hand fought to continue holding you in place.
before you knew it, you were coming again, harder this time, vision turning white.
your back arched up, moans falling out of your mouth as you twitched around his fingers for the second time.
michael then started to slow down his movements, riding you through each aftershock, before removing his mouth completely, and sliding his fingers out.
you watched as he scooted back, his cheek resting against your thigh as he gasped for air, both of you trying to catch your breath.
you leaned to sit up on your forearms, your legs still feeling like jelly.
the morning sun was fully up now, lighting up the room, as you turned to see the alarm clock now reading 8:06 AM.
michael grinned, “did that show you how much i missed you too?”
⎨ 𝐂𝐖 ⎬ mentions of blood / cleaning blood . mentions of younger sibling ( charlotte ) death . stalker - ish ! michael , walking red flag ! michael . SMUT : mutual yearning . mutual masturbation . fingering . male moans ( yay ! ) . whiny ! michael . mutual orgasm .
⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ also lowkey a drabble ; i wrote it on here so i have no clue how many words there are . NOT BETA READ btw , i write at like three am so it’s an occupational hazard . IMPORTANT NOTE : i know / think michael is technically supposed to be younger than vanessa in the movies but fuck that i changed it so he’s older . okay bye bye love you xx
“You look like hell warmed over.”
His gaze doesn’t quite meet yours, back pressed against the cracked siding that lines your small front porch. A crumpled tissue rests against his nose, red coating the once white surface; his fingertips stained with the same crimson. God, he’s sulking, like a kid who just got their favorite toy taken away from them.
“Yeah, it’s good to see you too.”
A grumble, pushing himself off the siding of your front porch and slipping past you as if he owned the place, as if he were entitled to entry without your permission. Spoiler; he isn’t, hasn’t been since the two of you were children.
Fingertips wrap against the doorknob, something akin to anger scratching its way up inside your chest; but then he turns and grins at you and suddenly it feels silly to be upset at him. How can you be? With those blue eyes that always seem to look past you - through you - to your very soul. He always seems to know things before you do, despite how reclusive and arrogant he is.
The door closes behind you, arms crossed as you watch him linger in the entryway, his eyes flickering over old photos, a happy family. His nose is still bleeding, still trickling down his pale skin and dotting the carpet below him, raising a small grimace from you.
You step past him, past those old framed portraits that have been dusted meticulously, as if they’ll disappear without it. Your gaze doesn’t linger on it, on the way she smiles so happily, as if nothing in the world could go wrong. Your should’ve been there more, should’ve watched her, listened to her, but instead you left her. So instead you don’t linger on those photos, you don’t even spare them a glance - he notices.
The faucet runs with warm water, paper towel roll losing a few pieces as you rip them off, allowing them to soak up the moisture, and when they’re perfectly damp the water is shut off. Wringing them out. He leans his back against the kitchen island, arms crossed as you step up and take the soiled tissue away, tossing it out.
“He’ll kill you if he sees you here.”
A huff, pressing the damp paper towel to his nose for him. He grimaces at the touch, at the pain, but he allows you to hold it. Only you. And god, you try your hardest to ignore how old butterflies you had thought to be long dead suddenly flutter up inside your gut when he smirks at the proximity. You want to puke and kiss him all at the same time.
“You let me in.”
“I did not. You just walked in.”
“But you let me. You could’ve stopped me, closed the door the instant you saw me standing there if you really hated me so much.”
Ignoring his words, frustration lacing your gaze as you focus on stopping the dripping of blood. Your tone is soft, though not gentle, as if you don’t want him to hear you. “I never said I hated you.”
For once, it seems he has no response. It’s been ages since you’ve been this close; proximity and relationship wise. He had dropped off the face of the earth a year or two ago, not that you had been counting the days, but you knew he was close with his dad and assumed he took the death hard.
It was that closeness that tore you two apart in the first place. How could you tell your father you hadn’t been watching Charlotte because the two of you were making out just behind the prize corner curtain? How could you look at him when grief twisted itself with the lust you felt towards him. The best day of your life quickly becoming the worst.
And how could you speak to him when no one else did? When everyone whispered about how it was his father - no doubt about it - and your father cut ties with his business partner over it? No proof, but you knew; you could tell. Just like you can tell how bad the bruising around his nose will be.
“God - did you run into a pole or something?”
He tilts his head ever so slightly, like a cat observing a mouse under his gaze, or a fox stalking a rabbit. You’re an idiot, letting him linger here, but after so long you’ve forgotten how sharp his fangs are - how good they would feel against your neck.
“Something like that.”
The fake gold of the badge on his purple shirt reflects the dim light over the kitchen sink; catching your attention for the first time. Eyebrows furrow, gaze flickering, a soft frown.
“You’re working there? Really?”
“Is that a problem?”
“I mean - no. I just didn’t think you’d ever want to step foot in there again.”
He scoffs, as if surprised by your words, like you should have moved past the death of your little sister by now.
“I didn’t, not for a long time. But then I thought of you, how sad you always are.” He stops, your confusion grows. You haven’t seen him in ages, how can he possibly know how sad you are? “So I found her. I brought her back, for you.”
It’s not funny anymore. This cute meeting after years of being apart and staring at each other like teenage lovers is suffocated by the coldness you feel. He’s done bleeding, you’ve been lingering, but now you step away and throw the paper towel in the trash.
You don’t step back over to him, you can’t face him. Something tightens in your chest at his words, so uniquely sincere and real - he sounds like your father, convinced that Charlotte could still be alive somehow. You had seen the stab wounds in her back, had held her body when the paramedics arrived. You knew better.
And you didn’t believe the rumors about Freddy’s.
“Don’t say stupid things like that, Michael. You know none of that is real.”
Michael stands up straight, now, grabbing your wrist a little too tightly. “I did it for you.”
“Well I didn’t ask you to, did I?”
There the two of you stand, his fingertips wrapped around your wrist almost painfully; with nothing but the moon outside the window and the dim nightlight over the sink illuminating the kitchen. That petulant look that’s never quite left him returns tenfold, morphing into something almost angry.
“I’ve seen you. How you sulk around - how those first dates never quite work out. You’re still hurting, I can fix that.”
He won’t say how the box under his bed is filled with photos of you, how he’s spent more hours than he’d like to admit following after you like a lost puppy. He’s gotten better at it, much better, you can’t even tell he’s there.
“Michael. Let go of me.” You feel as though you’re talking down to a child who’s gripping a toy that’s not theirs.
“No. No no no, I’m never letting you go again.”
He’s almost maniacal with his words, shaking his head desperately as he grabs you with both hands now, pulling you taut with his body. You can feel the tent growing in his pants, how he pants like a dehydrated dog before kissing you roughly.
And you, you’re no better than he is. Those feelings you thought you’d never experience again bubble up tenfold, and you kiss him back with as much urgency as you can - like he’ll disappear if you stop - breathing be damned.
He’s a walking red flag, perhaps you should’ve lingered on his words a bit longer, asked what he meant or how he knew your dates never worked out; but now his hands are on your hips and he’s setting you on the countertop and suddenly it doesn’t really matter.
Subconsciously, all you’ve ever wanted was him, and now you have that.
Michael’s desperate, hands roaming your body to map out every inch of your skin. His tongue has slipped past your lips, now, drifting dangerously close to the beginning of your throat. His hips slot themselves against yours, rocking his poor cock through the fabric.
It’s almost practiced, as if he’s thought of this scenario in his head over and over again. And he has. How many of those pictures under his bed has he ruined simply from jerking off onto them? From wrapping his hand around his cock and biting on his knuckles to silence his moans? Because Michael Afton is loud; and you pick up on that rather quickly.
One hand tangles into his hair, ignoring how greasy it is; and the other finds its way down his chest - down to the hem of his pants and slipping under it. He’s already hard, straining against boxers with a wet dot on the fabric where his cock weeps precum. You grasp him through the cotton, using the friction to your advantage.
And god does he moan. Mewling and panting against your lips (pulling away because the two of you have to breathe at some point.) His lips trail down your neck, kissing and sucking between his sounds, before eventually burying his face in your shoulder.
His hips rock against your hand, chasing the feeling of your grip while his own trails down in a manner similar to yours before it. Undoing the button of your pants and easily snaking against your panties. Swiping two fingers to catch on your clit.
You’re not quite as loud as he is, it’s almost comical how the lightest of touch still draws a whine from his lips. Perhaps you would’ve laughed, if you weren’t so enamored by him. His whining, his moans, they only aid in making the pad of your panties slick.
Michael bites and sucks on the flesh that meets between your shoulder and your neck, though it does little to hide his perverted noises. He wastes no time tucking your underwear to the side, running his fingers between your folds and relishing the jolt he gets from you when he reaches your clit.
He grins, biting harder on the base of your neck as he focuses his attention on that little nub. He rolls his fingers, capturing it between them and rubbing up against it - encouraging quicker movements with your own hand against his cock.
“Please please, cum on my fingers.”
He whines out, pulling away from your skin to look you dead in the eyes. He doesn’t stop as he speaks. Instead, two of his fingers slip inside you, feeling your gummy walls while his thumb continues its assault on your swollen clit.
He eats up the way you gasp and whine, rocking your hips against his hand as your grip tightens on his cock, hand moving up and down in a piston motion; which only serves to rile him up more.
And all too soon, that coil tightening in your core snaps. Your legs tense up, shaking ever so slightly as you do exactly what he had asked - riding out your orgasm on his fingers.
The bliss that overtakes you is almost too much to notice how his own cock is shooting thick ropes, reaching his climax simply from how you tighten and shake against his fingers.
You pant, attempting to catch your breath before his lips are on yours, kissing you hungrily like he could get something out of it. Your lungs scream for air but you do not pull away, not until he does so. You can’t help the way you bite back a laugh at how fucked out he looks.
Wrote most of this while sitting in my friend's car, coming home from watching the second FNAF movie. We both agreed that Michael Afton would probably be a yandere. RIP to the same friend's sanity. (Don't worry she's fine.)
Tw for abuse, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, and fucked up smut at the end. Dead dove: Do not eat.
If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
(Movie) Michael Afton x fem Reader
★ He's the kind of guy who would lock you in your room until you learn to behave. Strangely enough, you often sleep in different rooms. With you in the bedroom. While he sleeps on the couch so as to not disturb you. His odd sleep schedule makes it so. In his words, you "Don't have a reason to complain."
★ Michael sends about a hundred texts a day. If you don't respond, he might convince himself you're cheating. Even though, logically, you could never. Desperate for control even when he’s away.
★ He wants your hair done a certain way, so he does it himself. Some mornings you might wake up to him playing with your hair. It's creepy because you don't know he's there until you wake up.
★ You will be the perfect wife. Even if he needs to break your spirit first. Don't worry. He won't stop loving you... After all, nothing worth doing is easy.
★ Michael is not above sensory deprivation as a punishment. Some use it as a tool for "advanced interrogation," he uses it when you so much as think about leaving him.
★ Despite everything, he can be sweet to you. That's how he is most of the time. Doting on your every need. Making sure that there isn't something missing.
★ Want new clothes? Done. He's already bought you a full wardrobe. The only catch is he gets to choose what you wear. I'm not saying you won't like what he picks out. You do. But he has his own aesthetic that you'll have to match.
★ Something homely. Long dresses that reach your ankles. Thick, warm cardigans with flowers sewed into the fabric. Modest. Just like the "perfect wife" he's always dreamed of. Anything more revealing is saved for his eyes only. Only his.
★ He likes to keep a hand on your thigh in public. So people know who you belong to. Really, he genuinely likes to have hands on you. Not even in a sexual way. A hand on your shoulder, his arm around your waist. You're so pretty next to him. How could he not?
★ His pet names for you consist of "my angel" "dove" and "dearest" because you're almost innocent. Pure. Completely untouched by a world that ruins most nice things.
★ For a variety of reasons, Michael won't let you drive. Why would you need to? He's here. If you insist on it, fine. It's not worth fighting you over. But there's only one car, so you can't leave without him.
Nsfw
★ Huge breeding kink. Michael wants to have a big family. And at this point, he can't imagine anyone but you carrying his children. He didn't ask if you wanted this too. You'll come around to it eventually. Not like you had a choice.
★ Also a big sadist. He loves to make you cry. Choking you on his cock. tears welling in your eyes as his hand tug at the root of your hair. That's what he considers vanilla.
★ Never call him daddy. He despises it. Anything other than Michael is a no-go. Partly because he hates it when you say such filth. But mostly because he prefers it when you scream his name.
★ He'd fuck you next to a dead/dying body. Some unfortunate soul who made the mistake of whistling at you. The poor guy didn't know what had happened until it was too late.
★ Thanks to online shopping, Michael has handpicked an entire lingerie collection for you. Specifically dark purple articles. Ones that can be worn under regular clothes. He gets off on you going out, wearing something so scandalous under modest clothing.
★ There's a photo of you dressed up for him sitting inside his work desk. For those long nights where he misses your touch. The smell of your hair... Just thinking about it makes him embarrassingly hard.
★ You are his fantasy. Nobody but you can do these things to him. That's one good thing about him, he's loyal to a fault.
★ Of course, aftercare is important to him too. Those minutes of calm where you lean into his touch. Forgetting about the outside world in favor of letting him keep you safe. That's his favorite part.
