Michael cant help but be loud :( you bouncing on his dick feels too good!
michael was sprawled out on the mattress, tears spilling down his cheeks as he lets out pathetic moans and whimpers.
you bounce up and down on his dick, his large hands grasping your hips like a life line. “T-that feels so good! oh my god… im-..”
“michael, shush.” you warn, grabbing his jaw. he let out a whiny sigh. “Cant help it.. feels too good.”
you place a hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t wake up the whole house, but even that proved to be a waste—his groans were just way too loud.
“you need to—“
“yn? michael? you guys okay in there?” His mother’s voice is heard from behind the door, making your hips still. Oh fuck.
You glare down at the pathetic man beneath you, removing your hand and mouthing ‘say yes.’
“Yes.. we’re okay m-mother.” his voice stammers over the name, mouth forming an ‘O’ as you roll your hips—you quickly slap your hand over his mouth again.
“Alright, if you say so.” Katherine says, her footsteps slowly fading.
you shake your head before stilling. “Mike did you just come?”
he nods slowly, his face flushed and sweaty. “you were warm.. couldn’t help it.
، summary𓈒 michael is often busy with rehearsals and you ain't have no pleasure in a good minute so you just politely ask him to just use his fingers.
، pairing𓈒 michael jackson x black!fem!reader
، warnings𓈒 SMUT, 18+, masturbation, no use of y/n, kissing, fingering, crying, oversimulation, use of "baby".
، notes𓈒 I ain't write for michael in a minute (IM SORRY—i was feening for his brother), this was a bit rushed, but it literally based off this post- like wym his fingers was nearly five inches long??? bye; enjoy my strange ladies.
It was about 2:14 in the morning the last time you checked the green digital clock on your nightstand before going downstairs, and you done switched sides on the couch for what felt like the fifty thousandth time. You were curled up on said couch in the living room, the only light in the room coming from the warm, amber glow of the flickering television screen playing on mute. You had a satin robe tied loosely around your waist with your silk slip underneath, and your bare legs tucked under a thick throw blanket.
The house was too damn big when he wasn't there. You’d been trying to watch some late night sitcom reruns, but your eyes kept drifting to the heavy doors of the entrance.
You had the AC humming at a cool seventy degrees, but under this blanket, you were burning up. And it wasn't because of the weather outside. It was a deep, simmering heat right in your bones, settling heavy and tight right between your thighs.
Lord knew you loved your man. You loved his drive, his genius, the way his eyes lit up when a new idea clicked in his head. But this tour prep? It was running him ragged, and by default, it was leaving you high and dry; but shit, if you didn't miss your man.
And more than just missing his conversation, your body was aching for him.
You stared up at the ceiling. I ain't had no real lay down in...what? Three weeks? Four weeks? A whole fucking month.
It had been almost a full month since the two of you had really, truly connected. A month of quick, sleepy kisses in the mornings, brief phone calls during his fifteen minute lunch breaks, and falling asleep on opposite sides of a king sized bed because he was too physically exhausted to do anything but pass out the second his head hit the pillow.
Just yesterday, the desperation had gotten so bad you actually tried to take matters into your own hands. You’d dim the lights, pulled down your panties, and tried to get some relief. But it was a disaster. Every time you tried to find the right angle, your hand would cramp, or you’d lose the rhythm, or you just couldn't quite reach the spot that was aching deep inside your pussy. The frustration had built up so fast, hot and heavy behind your eyes, until you just ended up curling into a ball and crying actual tears of pure, unadulterated aggravation.
Imagine crying over some damn fingering. You’d felt so pathetic, sitting there with wet cheeks and a throbbing ache that wouldn't quit.
And now, here you were, twenty four hours later, and the ache was only worse.
Your skin was practically buzzing. Every little rub of the satin robe against your thighs felt like a tease. You’d spent the last hour just thinking about him- his hands, his voice, the way he breathed against your neck when he got worked up. You were needy, plain and simple. You wanted him, and you weren't planning on letting him just slip into sleep tonight without giving you a little piece of himself.
Just as you were about to give up and let sleep take you, the heavy thud of the front door finally echoed through the house.
You sat up, throwing the blanket off your legs. Your heart did a little flutter as you heard the familiar, exhausted sigh, followed by the soft rustle of his jacket being hung up in the closet.
A moment later, Michael walked into the room.
He looked absolutely beautiful, but incredibly worn down. He was wearing black pants, a loose, button down shirt over a white tee, and his black loafers. His curls were damp, clinging to the back of his neck and framing his face in sweaty spirals. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyes heavy with exhaustion.
When he noticed you sitting up on the couch, a soft, weary smile broke through his tired face.
"Hey, beautiful," he murmured, his voice incredibly deep, raspy, and quiet from a long day of singing. "What are you doing up? It's so late."
"Waiting on you," you said, your voice soft but carrying that smooth, slow drawl. You stood up from the sectional, stretching your legs, letting the silk robe part just enough to show a sliver of your thigh. "You look beat, baby."
Michael walked over to you, his movements slow. When he reached you, he just collapsed his forehead right onto your shoulder, letting his arms wrap loosely around your waist. He let out a long, shuddering breath, breathing in the scent of your cocoa butter lotion and the sweet perfume you’d lightly sprayed before he got home.
"I am," he whispered against your collarbone. "We did the choreography for 'Billie Jean' and 'Beat It' back to back today. Frank wanted to run the lighting cues over and over. My knees are aching, sweetheart. I feel like I could sleep for a whole week."
You gently stroked the back of his neck, your fingers slipping underneath the damp curls at his nape. You felt a wave of maternal warmth for him, but right beneath it was a burning, tight sensation in your lower belly.
"Mmh, I know you tired, Mike," you murmured, shifting your hips slightly so they brushed against his. "But I been missin' you. Like, really missin' you."
Michael pulled back just an inch, his dark eyes looking down into yours. He had that soft, gentle gaze he always got when he was looking at you, but there was a distinct fog of fatigue over his pupils. "I miss you too, girl. So much. Let's just go up to bed and cuddle, okay? I just want to hold you."
He reached down to take your hand, intending to lead you toward the grand staircase, but you didn't budge. You held his hand, but you anchored yourself, stepping closer into his space.
"Michael," you whispered, looking up at him with wide, glossy eyes. The desperation in your face must have shocked him, because his gaze instantly sharpened as you continued. "I don't just want to cuddle. I'm bout to go crazy. I swear to God I am. I ain't had none of you in a whole month."
"Have you been crying?"
You bit your lip, a hot flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. You didn't want to admit it, but you were too far gone to care about your pride.
"Yeah," you confessed, your voice cracking slightly. "I was. Yesterday. And tonight."
Michael’s brow furrowed, his thumbs soothingly rubbing circles into your hips through the thin silk of your slip. "Why, baby? Tell me. What happened?"
"I just did! Because of this," you burst out, gesturing vaguely down between your bodies.
Michael let out a soft, breathy chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He reached up, gently tapping his fingertips against your chin. "Sweetheart, I love you, and you know I want nothing more than to lay you down right now. But my back is so stiff, and my body is literally aching. I don't think I have the strength to give you what you need tonight. Let me get some rest, and I promise you, tomorrow morning I'll make it up to you."
"Tomorrow morning you gotta be back at the arena by eight, and you know it," you pointed out, stepping even closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. You looked up at him through your lashes, letting your lips part slightly. "And I can't wait that long. I'm practically dying over here."
"I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, kissing your forehead gently. "I just don't have the energy for a whole session."
"I ain't asking for all that," you murmured, your hand sliding down his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart through his shirt. You let your fingers trail down, stopping right at his waistline. "I know you tired. I know your knees hurting. So you don't gotta do all that..."
Michael raised an eyebrow, a slight, intrigued smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Oh, really? And what are you suggesting?"
"Just use your fingers, baby," you whispered, your voice a smooth, seductive purr against his ear. You nipped gently at his earlobe, making him shiver. "Just sit back, relax, and use your pretty hands on me. That's all I need. Just a little taste."
Michael groaned softly, his grip on your waist tightening just a fraction. You could tell he was fighting his own exhaustion, but the temptation of your touch, combined with the desperate tone in your voice, was starting to wear down his defenses. He loved how much you wanted him. He loved that even when he was completely drained, you still craved his touch above everything else. His eyes searched your face, taking in the dilated pupils, and the absolute raw hunger written in every line of your expression. He let out a long, shaky sigh, his head tilting back to look at the ceiling before closing his eyes.
"Oh, sweetheart," he groaned, bringing his head back down to look down at you. "You really know how to play with fire, don't you?"
"I'm burning up, Michael. Put it out."
He looked down at you with hooded eyes, a slow, dangerous smile creeping onto his lips. It wasn't his usual sweet, boyish grin. This was the smile of a man who knew exactly what kind of power he held over you, a man who was about to take his sweet, precious time.
"You're a bad girl," he muttered. "So needy. Using my weakness against me when I'm too tired to fight back. Can't even let a man rest."
"I ain't hear you say no," you teased, your heart racing. "Please, Michael? Just touch me. I'll do whatever you want, just don't leave me dry tonight."
Michael closed his eyes for a brief second, inhaling deeply, before opening them again. The exhaustion was still there, but now it was mixed with a heavy, simmering heat. He looked down at your lips, his gaze darkening.
"Alright," he whispered, his voice incredibly thick. "Alright, sweetheart. But we're doing this my way. And you have to promise to do exactly what I tell you."
"Always, baby," you breathed, a thrill running down your spine.
Michael took your hand and led you slowly up the stairs. The house was dead silent, the only sound being the soft pad of your bare feet and his loafers on the carpeted steps. When you reached the master bedroom, the massive space was cool and dark, lit only by the moonlight streaming through the large doors that led to the balcony.
Michael didn't turn on any lights. He preferred the darkness, the intimacy of the shadows.
He walked over to the massive king sized bed, kicking off his loafers before sitting down on the edge of the mattress. He leaned back against the headboard, his long legs stretching out in front of him. He looked up at you, standing at the foot of the bed.
"Come here," he commanded softly.
You walked over, your heart hammering against your ribs, really trying not to smile at how happy you were to be getting someee. You stopped right between his outstretched legs, looking down at him.
Michael reached up, his long, slender fingers catching the tie of your satin robe. With a slow pull, he undone the knot. The silk parted, pooling around your elbows and revealing the lace slip you were wearing underneath.
Michael’s eyes swept down your body, taking in every single curve, the rich warmth of your skin, the way your chest rose and fell with your shallow breathing. He let out a soft, appreciative hum, his hands sliding up your thighs, his palms warm and slightly calloused from years of dancing.
"You look so beautiful," he whispered, his hands smoothing over your hips, resting on your waist. "So beautiful. My sweet girl."
"Michael, please," you whimpered, the heat between your legs blooming instantly at his touch. "I'm already so wet for you."
"Shh," he murmured, his fingers gently digging into your hips, anchoring you. "Don't rush me. I told you, we're going slow. If I'm doing this, I'm taking my time."
He pulled you closer, guiding you to climb onto the bed. "Sit on my lap, facing away from me," he instructed, his voice all low and steady.
You did as you were told, turning around and straddling his thighs, your back pressing against his chest. The feeling of his broad chest against your back, his warm breath tickling the back of your neck, made you shiver.
Michael wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply, kissing the soft spot right beneath your ear.
"You feel so good," he murmured. "So soft. So warm," he whispered, moving his head up, his lips brushing against your temple. "And you smell so good. What is that?"
"Cocoa butter. The one you like," you mumbled, your hands finding his thigh, tracing down to his knee. "Now stop stallin', Michael."
He let out a tired but rich laugh that vibrated against your chest. "Alright, alright. Impatient little thing."
His hands slowly slid down from your waist, moving over the smooth fabric of your slip, down to where your thighs met. You parted your legs slightly, giving him access, but Michael wasn't in a hurry. He kept his palms flat against your outer thighs, gently rubbing them in slow, circular motions.
"Michael..." you groaned, shifting your weight, trying to press your pussy against his hand.
"Stop moving," he whispered against your ear, his voice firm but gentle. "Just relax. Let me handle it."
You let out a breathy sigh, forcing your muscles to relax, leaning your head back against his shoulder.
Slowly, agonizingly so, Michael’s right hand slipped inward. His long fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, light as a feather. You trembled, your fingers gripping the bedsheets beside you. He trailed his fingers up, closer and closer to the lace of your underwear, but just when you thought he was going to touch you, he retreated, sliding his hand back down to your knee.
"Michael, stop teasing me," you whined. "You playin' too much. Just touch it."
Michael let out a soft chuckle against your neck. "You've been waiting a month, a few more minutes isn't going to kill you."
He repeated the motion, his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thighs, slowly acclimating your body to his touch, building the anticipation until you were literally panting, your hips involuntarily twitching.
Finally, his hand slipped underneath the lace material.
When his bare fingertips made contact with your swollen, soaking wet center, you let out a loud gasp, your back arching off his chest.
"Oh, fuck..." you breathed, your eyes closing tight. "Michael..."
"Mmh, look at that. Look at you," his voice incredibly soft, almost reverent. He felt how warm and slick you were, his fingertips instantly becoming coated in your juices. "You're soaking wet for me, girl. You really were needy, weren't you?"
"Yes," you confessed, your fingers gripping his bicep, your voice cracking. "Yes, baby. I been wanting you so bad."
Michael didn't immediately start stroking you. Instead, he just rested his palm against your mound, letting you feel the heavy, warm weight of his hand. He began to apply a slow, steady pressure, moving his palm up and down, grinding your sensitive flesh against himself. Michael might have been too tired to move his body, but his hands had a mind of their own.
And though friction was intense, it wasn't enough. You wanted his fingers in you.
"Please, Mike. Put 'em in. Just a little bit," you begged, turning your head slightly to try and catch his lips.
Michael turned his head to meet yours, pressing a deep, slow, open mouthed kiss to your lips. He tasted like sweet mint. He kissed you thoroughly, his tongue lazy and heavy, mirroring the slow rhythm of his hand down below.
While he kissed you, his middle finger slowly slipped inside of your pussy.
You let out a muffled moan into his mouth, your walls clenching tightly around his finger. They were so long, and the intrusion felt incredibly deep and full.
Michael pulled back from the kiss, his eyes heavy, watching your face in the dim moonlight. He saw the pleasure written across your features, your lips parted, your brow slightly furrowed as you tried to cope with the sensation.
"You're so tight," he whispered, his finger remaining completely still inside you. "So warm."
"Move it, baby," you pleaded, your hips giving a desperate little twitch. "Please, move it."
"Shh, easy," he murmured. "Let me stretch you out first."
He slowly curled his finger inside you, hooking it slightly against your front wall. The sudden friction against your g-spot made your eyes roll back, a loud broken moan escaping your throat. "Oh, shit- ! Michael...Michael!"
"I got you," he whispered, his voice incredibly deep and steady.
He slowly slid a second finger, his index finger, inside alongside the first. The fit was incredibly snug, making you stretch around him. He began a slow, rhythmic in and out motion. It wasn't fast, and it wasn't rough.
He began to move his fingers, but it was agonizingly slow. He would slide it almost all the way out, letting you feel the slick friction of his exit, only to push it back in with a slow thrust that was incredibly deep. With every stroke, his fingers coated themselves in your slickness, the wet, squelching sound filling the quiet bedroom, making your face burn with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.
Over and over, he kept the pace tortuously slow. He was making sure you felt every millimeter of his fingers sliding inside you.
You were losing your mind. Your body wanted him to move fast, wanted to ride his hand to get that quick, explosive release, but every time you tried to speed up the pace, tried to really buck your hips and fuck yourself on this man's hand like a bitch in heat, Michael’s hand on your hip would tighten, holding you firmly in place.
"No, no," he cautioned, his deep voice vibrating against your back. "Don't rush, baby. Just feel how good it is."
"It's too slow, Michael," you cried out, a tear of frustration and pleasure escaping the corner of your eye. "You torturing me."
"I'm loving you," he corrected softly, his finger finally finding your highly sensitive clit.
He didn't rub it. He was just pressed down gently, holding his finger there while his fingers on his other hand continued its slow, deep curls inside of you.
The combination of the deep, slow penetration and the steady, heavy pressure on your clit sent a massive wave of electricity straight to your core. Your legs began to shake, your inner muscles contracting violently around his finger.
"That's it," Michael murmured, feeling the pre orgasmic ripples of your body. "You like that, don't you?"
"Yes, yes, right there, Mike," you gasped, your voice completely wrecked. "Right there."
He kept his movements steady, his long fingers working inside you with a masterful, lazy rhythm that was driving you over the edge. He didn't have to strain himself; he just lay there, watching your face in the dim light, enjoying the way he could make you unravel with just a fraction of his effort.
"I'm not going to let you come yet," he whispered, his voice dripping with a playful, dominant malice.
And just like that, he eased up. He pulled his fingers almost completely out, his fingers lightly brushing away from your sweet spot, leaving you hovering right on the edge of a cliff, completely suspended.
You let out a frustrated, heartbroken groan. You grabbed his thighs, turning to look up at his handsome, smug face. He looked so incredibly handsome, his features all soft and full of love.
"Michael, why you doing me like this?" you whined, completely exasperated. "You know I'm right there. Don't play with me like this, baby, I'm begging you."
Michael down at you, his eyes incredibly soft but holding a deep, intense hunger. He reached over, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb wiping away the stray tear of frustration.
"Because I want it to last," he whispered honestly. "If I let you come right now, you're going to fall asleep, and I won't get to feel you like this for another long time. I want to enjoy you, sweetheart. I want to see how much you can take."
You looked into his eyes, seeing the genuine, deep affection mixed with the primal desire to possess you, to dominate your pleasure. The frustration faded instantly, replaced by a deep submission.
"Okay," you whispered. "Okay. Do what you want. Just don't stop."
Michael smiled, a beautiful smile. "I won't stop."
He reached down, his hands catching your thighs and spreading them wider, draping your legs over his own. He adjusted himself slightly, leaning back a bit more so he had a clear view of your pussy.
He dipped two fingers into your slick pool of moisture, coating them completely before he slowly pushed both fingers deep inside you, a sharp gasp escaping your lips.
"Ohhh- hnnmm," you whimpered, your hands moving down to grip the sheets for dear life.
Michael began to pump his fingers inside you, but he kept the pace slow, steady, and incredibly deep. He was curling his fingers upward, hitting that sweet spot inside you over and over again with a wet, rhythmic squelch that echoed.
His other hand reached up, his thumb gently circling your clit, match the slow rhythm of his fingers. Every slide of his fingers made you lose your breath. You closed your eyes, your head rolling back against his shoulder, your hips rolling against his hand as you let out low moans.
You were completely at his mercy. Every touch was calculated, designed to build the tension in your lower belly until it was almost unbearable.
"Michael...please...I can't..." you cried out softly, your hands clutching the satin sheets, your toes curling. The pleasure was rolling through you in waves, so overwhelming because you had waited so damn long for it.
"Yes you can," he whispered, his voice a soothing, hypnotic tone. "Just ride the wave, baby. Let it build. I've got you."
He kept you on that agonizing edge for what felt like hours, but was likely only fifteen minutes of sensory torture. He would build you up until your thighs were shaking uncontrollably, asking you to "Look at me, baby," with a hypnotic tone, his finger applying a perfect, steady pressure to your clit while his other fingers stroked deep inside you, and then he would slow down even more, whispering sweet, encouraging words into your ear, kissing your neck, your ear, your lips, until your body settled just enough for him to start the build up all over again.
By the time he finally decided to let you go, you were completely spent, your body vibrating with a tension so tight it felt like a coiled spring. "You love it when I touch you like this?" he asked, his voice a low, commanding purr.
"I love it...I love you, Mike...I'm about to..." you sobbed softly, not even able to finish your sentences, your fingers digging into his thighs, likely leaving light red marks that you couldn't see because of his pants. "I need to come. Please, baby. Let me come."
Michael looked down at you, his own breathing heavy now, his face flushed with heat. He saw how completely undone you were, how entirely devoted you were to his touch in this moment.
"Alright, baby," he whispered, his voice incredibly tender. "Come for me. Right now."
He suddenly sped up his movements, his fingers thrusting deeply and rapidly inside of you, while his thumb rubbed your clit in fast, intense circles.
The sudden shift in pace was too much. Your body instantly locked up.
A loud, soul shattering cry tore from your throat as your vision went completely white. Your walls clamped down on his fingers in tight, rhythmic spasms, squeezing him with incredible force. You arched your back, before your entire body began shaking violently as the intense, delayed orgasm crashed over you in waves, going on and on, seemingly never ending because of how long he had held you back. Your hips bucked against his hand, your chest heaving as you rode it out.
Michael held you tightly against him, his fingers staying deep inside you, feeling every single contraction of your climax. He buried his face in your neck, letting out a low, satisfied groan of his own as though he were the one nutting, completely intoxicated by your pleasure. He let you shake, kissing away the happy tears that gathered at the corners of your eyes.
"Yes, baby," he whispered against your skin, his voice all thick and warm. "That's it. Let it out. Give it all to me."
You collapsed against his chest, your muscles completely jelly, your heart pounding like a drum. You were panting heavily, sweat lightly shining your forehead, letting the contractions gently squeeze him until the worst of the tremors faded into a lazy, warm afterglow.
Slowly, carefully, Michael slipped his fingers out of you. He reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a soft hand towel to clean himself and you, his movements incredibly tender and caring.
Once you were both cleaned up, he pulled you back into his arms. You collapsed against his chest, completely spent, your forehead resting right over his heart. You could hear it beating- a steady, comforting thump thump, thump thump.
"You alright now, needy girl?" he teased softly, his chest rumbling against your cheek.
You released a soft, satisfied hum, wrapping one leg over his thigh, tangling your bodies together. "I'm perfect. Thank you, baby."
"Anytime," he murmured, his voice incredibly heavy now, his eyes already fluttering shut. "Now...let your man get some sleep."
"Go to sleep, Mike," you whispered, kissing his warm chest.
Within minutes, his breathing slowed into a deep, even rhythm. You lay there in the quiet of the bedroom, warm, fully satisfied, and completely loved, listening to the soft sound of his breathing as the neon green clock ticked away into the morning.
If anyone had told you that the sweetest, most soft-spoken superstar on the planet was secretly a ravenous, borderline-obsessive fiend behind closed doors, you would’ve laughed. But now? Shaking, sweating, and gripping the headboard of his massive master bed for dear life, you knew the terrifying truth.
Michael was a munch. A total, unapologetic eater.
"Michael, please," you gasped, your thighs twitching violently as his warm, heavy hands locked your hips in place. "I'm—I can't. I’m too sensitive, baby, stop—"
He didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. Michael just peeked up from between your legs, his damp curls clinging to his forehead, his lips glistening with your slick. His dark eyes were wide, blown-out, and completely shameless as he swiped his tongue slowly from the bottom of your slit all the way up to your aching clit, making you sob out loud.
"Shh," he murmured, his voice a deep, gravelly contrast to his usual high pitch. "I didn't say you could close your legs, beautiful. Keep 'em open for me. Let me taste how much you love me."
He was a perv, plain and simple. It didn't matter if you were trying to watch a movie, winding down after a long day, or literally just woke up; if Michael got a whiff of you, he was diving in. He treated your body like his personal, five-star buffet. He was highly addicted, completely obsessed with the natural, warm scent of your skin, especially when your everyday scent mixed with your natural wetness. He’d bury his nose in your neck, trail his lips down your stomach, and just inhale deeply between your thighs before his tongue even touched you.
He had absolutely zero boundaries, too. If you were sitting on his lap while he was writing music, his large hands would inevitably slip under your skirt to check your moisture. If you were even a little wet, he’d instantly drop to his knees on the floor, pulling your panties to the side right there. He was so incredibly visual, preferring to turn on all the bedside lamps just so he could watch his long fingers parting your rich, folds, blending beautifully against your skin. He'd even pull your lips apart himself, whispering muffled, dirty praise like, "You taste so sweet, baby... look at how much you're leaking for me," as he swallowed every single drop.
"Michael, seriously, I'm going to pass out," you whined, trying to push his head away as a fresh wave of overstimulation hit you.
But he loved when you tried to fight it. He loved the control, often pulling your hips right over his face to anchor you down, whispering, "Smother me, baby. Don't be shy." Even after you’d just had a screaming, toe-curling orgasm and your legs were shaking like jelly, Michael’s greed knew no bounds. He’d wait barely thirty seconds—just long enough for you to catch your breath—before his tongue was right back on your swollen clit. As you cried out and tried to wriggle away, he simply pinned your wrists to the mattress, looking up at you with a dark, teasing smirk. "Just a little more, mama. I need to taste my baby"
synopsis: michael’s dirty dancing seemingly caught up to you in a matter of minutes.
warnings: smut 18+, sexual themes, cowgirl, switch!michael, sub!reader, creampie, hair pulling, pet names, public sex (ish) overstimulation, oral (f receiving) minors dni.
requested: yes or no
This was one of Michael’s best performance you seen, hands down.
Sometimes you came with him when he went on tour, and you loved every bit of it. Or even when you’re back at home, you’d watch all his shows live. But this time, he let you tag along for his Wembley tour circuit in 1988. It was a pretty lengthy tour; anyone else would probably be tired by now or, truly, not have the capacity to sit through it, but you?
You had no limits with Michael. You were just a girl madly in love with your partner. You’d do anything for him, especially when supporting him. So, he was on either his second-to-last song, about almost time to an end, which you weren’t complaining about, but it definitely was refreshing to watch him do what he does best.
You felt, and Michael most certainly felt, that his performance was definitely him giving his all and more, because you were there.
Michael is a perfectionist, he was gonna do amazing regardless, but the way he moved his fingers, his body, and the faces he made. You knew they were all for you, only for you. Doing so, he eventually got what he wanted because without your knowledge, he performed ‘The Way You Make Me Feel.’ One of your favorite songs because of obvious reasons; It’s about you.
Once you heard the song blare through the loudspeaker, your ears perked up as you looked towards the entrance of the stage. Whatever you had been doing was interrupted because now you were just inches away from the stage, watching from behind the scenes as Michael did his opening piece.
“You knock me off of my feet now baby!”
“Wooooo!”
The crowd erupted into cheers, and the stage lights illuminated Michael, bringing him out of the dark. The beat thumped as Michael did his signature moves, popping his chest and doing the small spins in place. His background dancers stayed in the back while the song began, officially starting Michael’s performance.
Your heart thumped out of your chest as you watched him prance around the stage. His calculated movements, incredible voice that projected perfectly, and his fingers that could not stop moving in seductive ways, all had you backstage warming up. He eventually caught your figure and gave you a few winks, keeping it professional.
You’d shy away by angling your head downward or biting your lip, or even nibbling on the tip of your fingernail. Michael saw all of it, and it fueled his little teases even more. Michael smirked as he walked closer toward your end and waved his guys over. They came, as Michael finished the lyrics; now with a perfect view of you and his audience.
“I like this feeling you’re givin’ me.”
He was close. Your pupils grew big as you watched him precisely, knowing these lyrics were directed to you, and he sang them to you at this moment, making butterflies tear up your stomach. You smiled like an idiot and folded your arms against your chest; you were so shy in this moment that all you could do was cheese and twist your hair occasionally.
“Just hold me baby, and i’m in ecstasy.”
He pointed his hand out, then reached back, placing it on his crotch and slightly thrusting in the air. Your eyes went big, only just the slightest while you watched and anticipated his next move. Though, you should probably sit down because standing and shifting your feet isn’t going to give you the satisfaction you need down there.
He continued the choreo, with his hips continuously popping and one hand supporting the mic, the other all over his body. He’s still positioned to where he has a good view of you, while the guys in the back moved accordingly. He held a smirk while making small gestures towards you.
He then turned fully towards the crowd, where you only had a sideways view of him. His hand traced an outline of a curved body— “I swear I’m keeping you satisfied.” He swayed his arm down and thrusted repeatedly in the air, as if he was giving it to you. The slight, uncomfortable warmth that you felt below meant your body had betrayed you to the fullest. Michael got you, without even touching you.
“Oh my god..” You whispered before letting your head fall into your hands. All of your buttons had been turned on, creating a small thump in your clit, that left you squeezing your legs together while standing. Now you were just about ready for this concert to be over.
—
Michael could tell something was up.
He finished his last song, giving a small outro before leaving the stage. There you were waiting for him by his dressing room door that read ‘Michael Jackson’, “You did so good, Mikey!” He swiftly lifted you off your feet, engulfing you with a hug and swindling you with a kiss. His body was hot and damp, his hair laid messily on his forehead, and his collar stretched ever so slightly, displaying his toned chest.
All of these being a contribution to the arousal you began feeling minutes ago, which is why you were so eager to get out of there. “You ready to go?” Michael’s eyebrows turned downward with a gentle smile on his face.
“Yeah, baby, we’re leaving soon.”
Usually, you wouldn’t inquire about leaving so early; you’d just wait for Michael to tell you. So you took a seat in his dressing room chair, coming down with a slight slouch as Michael wiped the sweat from his forehead, not missing the slight demeanor change within you. He looked over his shoulder at you; you caught his eye and straightened up a bit, flashing him a forged smile.
He squinted his eyes in the slightest.
You couldn’t fake it with Michael, a pout unintentionally formed on your lips as you waited for his attempt at interrogation. “What’s wrong?” There it was. He discarded the towel and put his attention on you fully. It necessarily wasn’t anything wrong, just something that needed to be fixed.
You shook your head. “Nothing, Mike, I’m okay.” Just off of him standing above you, as you sat in the chair looking up at him with a masked feeling of lust, turned you on even more. He couldn’t necessarily point out what was wrong or if you were telling the truth.
He raised an eyebrow at you. “You sure? No one made you uncomfortable or anything?” You didn’t respond verbally, just a small ‘unt unt’. He finished his sentence— “because you look kind of—” There it was. He quickly put two and two together on his own. He got his answer already; he couldn’t help but notice the way your plush thighs would press together and shift against one another.
“Ohhh, I see. She needs me?” Your lack of response gave Michael his answer, again. He chuckled and shot you a faux frown. “I can’t help you right now, baby.” Another squeeze came from you as disappointment seeped through your heart. Knowing Michael, he was going to tease you alllll the way until it was time for him to get his hands on you.
“Then don’t tease me Michael.” Your doe eyes being captured with his big ones as well made him lick his lips, pausing for a second to reconsider it. How can he say no to a pretty face like that? You weren’t saying how badly you needed it, but Michael could tell from your body language alone, and the fact of you using his full name.
“Please…” That was enough for him to turn his head and open the door to his dressing room, peaking his head before spotting bill. “Bill, how long?” Michael asked with his body halfway peaking out of the door frame. Bill stopped in his tracks and held his wrist that contained his watch, close to his face.
“I say about 30 minutes.”
More than enough time messing around with Michael;) He nodded his head and slid back into the room. You watched his every move, watching as he approached you by holding his hand out for you to take. He guided you both to the large black couch. He sat first, while your hands were still together. You followed his movement and positioned yourself to straddle his lap. Your hands fell on his chest, and his eased on your waist, after he gave your ass a nice grip.
“What’s got you so worked up, honey?” He started a conversation while leaning in toward your neck area, showering it with small kisses. Out of instinct, you started grinding yourself against Michael. He felt it, and his hands held your waist, pressed you down, signaling you to stop.
You whined and answered his question. “You, Mikey.” He still gave sweet kisses to your neck, but now he began kitty licking those spots and sucking on your neck. You breathed out and dragged your hands down his warm chest.
“Aint’ even touched you though” He mumbled.
“O-on stage.” You responded quickly, trying to move your hips, but Michael had you restrained. You moaned in his embrace as he applied more pressure on your neck by sucking harder. He might not have made you wait, but he still was going to tease you and work you up even more no matter what. C’mon now. He detached from your neck and placed both hands on the sides of your face, pulling you in for a hot and steamy kiss. You quietly yelped at the sudden movement, but once your lips connected, it somewhat fueled your neediness. Michael, of course, dominated the kiss, his lips capturing yours whole, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip, immediately gaining access. The two of your tongues connected as you lazily sucked on his tongue. He gently pulled back before coming back with a wet, full-lip kiss, then nibbling on your bottom lip, drawing a pinch of blood.
It was clear as day the Michael wanted this as bad as you.
You whimpered while breaking the kiss and fidgeted with your skirt, that had already been risen by now, desperately trying to get it off. You succeeded in doing so, and began fidgeting with Michael’s pants. You were crazy as hell if you thought Michael was going to proceed to fuck you without getting a taste of his favorite fruit. Pffttt.
“Need to taste you first baby.”
One of his arms snaked around your back side, lifting you in the air, while standing himself. He kept a tight grip on you while shimming himself out of his pants, still keeping his boxers on. He placed you on one of the sturdy tables in the dressing room. You immediately fell into position, holding yourself on your elbows with spread legs.
You let out a breathy sigh as Michael placed himself between your legs, in awe at the large, dark spot that decorated your panties. Not that Michael needed anything to feed his ego, because he didn’t have an enormous one in the first place, but seeing the way you were nearly dripping through your panties from watching him perform inappropriately would definitely be a contribution.
He removed your panties, not missing the sticky trail that came from your soaking wet bottoms and your clit. He discarded them somewhere on the floor and kissed your inner thighs. His hands hooked on the back of your thighs, inching them forward. “Just a taste mikey.” You said in a low voice, almost like a whisper, because once again you knew your boyfriend and his tendencies to get carried away. He pursed his lips together and hummed.
“Just a taste baby, then you can take what you want. Yeah?” He nodded his head in attempts to assure you.
You nodded, giving him an okay. His eyes left yours as he connected his lips to your sweet bundle of nerves. He started from your entrance and licked all the way up to your clit. This made you shiver and grip the ends of the table you were laid on. He then began sucking on your clit, lapping up your juices making sure none of your sweet nectar went untasted.
“Ohh my…” You moaned softly with an unconscious attempt to clamp your thighs together, but Michael’s hands kept you restrained. Your body became hot the more Michael’s lips attacked your cunt, and the more he flicked with your clit repeatedly with the tip of his tongue. “So sweet, taste so good pretty.” You felt the vibration of his voice on you making you jolt, and hold onto his semi long curls for support.
“Yes, mikey… right there.” You whimpered with a wobbly voice. Michael groaned and grunted while creating wet noise with his lips and your juices, leaving his chin a dripping mess. His dick stiffened in his boxer, causing him to move his hips into the air, slightly and very few times. His lips pulled at your bundle of nerves surrounding your clit before coming off with a loud pop noise, before coming back in, stuffing his face deeper into your pussy. His movement became more effective as his teeth grazed against your clit each time he dove back in, slurping in the process.
You dragged out a whine.
Your face turned, and your abdomen tightened. “M-Michael… y’said just a taste.” Your words fell deaf to his ears. Michael’s eyes weren’t even open; he was too busy in a daze from the sweetest smell and touch known to man.
You let out a sob and a frustrated moan while yanking his hair. That seemed to grab Michael’s attention because his eyes shot open and at you. With the strength that you had, you eased yourself away from Michael. His lips still working their way on you, as he moved his hands from the back of your thighs, then his lips away from your slobbery cunt.
You gasped from the sudden pull and tried to control your breath. “S’enough, just a taste. ‘member?” He was still between your legs, his eyes were dark and full of lust in that moment. He didn’t even reply to you; instead, he lifted both of your legs, placing them on his shoulders before locking his arms around your thighs and heading back to work.
“I’m sorry baby. I need more.”
You came to defeat as your head fell back and your thighs trembled in Michael’s hold. His tongue put in the same work as before, flicking your clit as you felt an orgasm creep up. Your stomach churned, and you caught chills all over your body. “mikeyy..” You whined.
His adjusted the position by pulling you closer, and adding more aggression.
“Ohh m-mikeyy..” A high-pitched moan erupted from your throat, as the once-built-up tension snapped and washed over you like a tidal wave. You grinded into Michael’s face, feeling his nose bump against your clit. He hummed, slurping up every droplet of cum that exited you, as if it were forbidden not to do so. You came down with a breathy moan, and your legs fell weakly from Michael letting you go.
He wiped his chin with the back of his hand.
You tried steadying your breath as Michael removed his shirt. He discarded it and placed his hands on each side of you, going in for a kiss. You caught it as your lips sloppily danced with one another, and you tasted yourself faintly on his lips. Michael broke this kiss. “I’m sorry I got carried away, angel. I couldn’t help myself. I love tasting you, gorgeous girl.” Michael said.
You nodded your head lazily and wrapped your arms around his neck, he got the message and lifted you swiftly from the table. He sat back down on the black couch again, keeping you leveled as he freed himself. His incredibly long and thick dick slapped against his stomach with a small tap. Pre cum oozed from his agitated tip as it was just inches away from your area.
“Go ahead sweet girl, take what you need.”
The intense eye contact Michael held with you while keeping his hands by his side made you clench around nothing. You brought a shaky hand to your lips as you dropped a wad of spit, then stroked Michael gently, causing him to grunt and attach his large hands to the cushion. You lubed his dick up and lifted your hips, aligning him up with your entrance.
Since you didn’t have the best stability, your hands went to his shoulders, while your head looked downward. “Michael.. Hold me.” You weren’t going to be able to fit his fat tip inside of you without missing your hole the first time.
His hands instantly went to your hips.
“I got you, baby, come on.” He said lazily. Your hands gripped his shoulders as his tip began slowly disappearing inside you. Your eyes shut quickly with a tight squeeze. Every time you and Michael had sex, his dick size never fell to amaze because it always took a second for you to adjust. You let out a breathy moan as he finally bottomed out. Michael licked his lips and swallowed harshly, he wasn’t in charge anymore it was all up to you.
Your hips stuttered as you lifted yourself up, then came back down. You’d repeat the same steps, but each time you’d add a little bit more force. Until you were completely bouncing on Michael’s dick, with such perfect ease.
“Jesus christ.” Michael groaned out load.
Continuous amounts of moans left your mouth as the feeling of his mushroomy tip abusing your gummy walls consumed you. You bit your lip and threw your head back as Michael stared at you the whole time, being in a trance-like state over how good you were making him feel. He shoved your top up and latched his mouth onto your left tit. His tongue swirled around your nub, sucking and pulling at the sensitive spot while he whimpered and groaned into your chest. “Angel… you’re so warm. All for me.” He let out a pathetic whine as your face twisted up with pleasure, small tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.
You couldn’t even form a complete sentence. “Mich—” You were so close but yet so far. Eventually, the strength you had minutes ago began dying down. You still had movement, but it was slowed, and you were more so grinding rather than bouncing. Michael pulled from your tits, leaving them marked up, and quickly put his hands on your hips, manually bouncing you and thrusting into you.
He sensed your tiredness but that wasn’t stopping the show. He loved this position and didn’t plan on switching it.
“Don’t stop, baby. Please, don’t stop.” He moaned, catching his bottom lips between his teeth. You let out a muffled, what could almost be a scream into Michael’s shoulder. Because now you were laid against his shoulder, panting loudly while he peeked around you to see the way your ass came down on him. The sound of wet, squelching sounds coming from your pussy, and the clap sound created by yours hitting Michael’s thighs, all filled the room along with the smell of perfume mixed with cologne and sex.
He felt the way you clench around him multiple times and could tell you were near your end. He gripped the back of your hair, nothing too tight, and faced you toward him, pulling you in for a kiss, something to add fuel. The kiss was very sloppy and all over the place; it didn’t shush either of you; it only made more nasty and lewd sounds come from both of you.
Michael was reaching greatness as well, but he couldn’t let himself go without you going first. His hand with a grip on your hair pulled your head back, and his lips attacked your neck. You let out high-pitched cries as you felt the familiar tightness in your stomach.
“Y’Gonna cum for Mikey? Show him how much you needed this? Y-Yeah?” Michael grunted into your neck, fucking into you at a devious pace. God, he was so dirty. All you could do was nod your head, barely even that, while biting your lip as your orgasm reached its peak.
“Yes Mikey.. Oh my god..” You felt the tightness snap again, and an immediate wave of pleasure rose over you, beneath you, inside of you everywhere. You came with an ear-piercing moan. Your fingernails dug into his thighs as he still held you in the position of your head being back, chest perked up, and your back arched. Your cum created a thick white ring around his dick, and from the sight of that alone, that was enough to make you cum. He thrusted into you hard, a couple more times, the last few becoming sloppy before you finally spilled his load inside of you.
He moaned and groaned, made a mixture of noise while still fucking you through the rest of your orgasm and now him. “Ohh my… Baby.” He grunted while coming down from a big explosion. The warm feeling of cum crowded your belly, making you hyper aware. You gently fell into his hold with a breathy sigh as you stayed in place. Not bothering to remove yourself.
Your breathing was very uneasy, so was his. He rubbed your back gently and kissed the top of your head. He lifted you up so he could pull out, and the loss of contact made both of you release sounds of pleasure. He was so obsessed with your defeated state that he could almost get another hard-on. You laid your head back on his chest while still straddling him with a naked lower half.
Michael stretched his neck and lifted your face giving you a quick kiss.
“It’s probably time to go babygirl.”
You pouted and groaned. “I know but, I won’t be able to walk.”
Michael giggled and wiggled his eyebrows at the fact of knowing this his was doing. “Well, Whatcha gonna do girl?”
“I’m not gonna do anything, you’re carrying me.” And that’s exactly what he did. Didn’t even try and stand on business..
—
;)
dedicated to my lovey @sturnschris
it IS gonna be a delay on the other fic, so sorry. UGHH
-yourlove7 2026. don’t copy, repost as yours, remake, if inspired give creds.
authors note: y’all already know the drill… how would the timeskip heros eat you OUT! (with some nsfw headcans drizzled in bc i am a freak idc)
villain ver: HERE!!
IZUKU
omg i had to do him first, he’s been on my mind since i saw teacher Izuku fanar—…..im getting off topic
✮ he’s so dreamy… SO DREAMY UGHDHDUSV
✮ saw a tiktok where they said he talks you thought it and omg YES!!! he’d be so good at what he does because listens and pays attention to your every noise and move.
✮ loves holding your hand when he’s eating you out (he’s so intimate and cute)
✮ when you grab his hair and pull him closer, he’s instantly rolling his eyes in pleasure because he can’t get over how good this feels for him and how good it feels for you. (like just imagine he’s going in and it feels so good that you grab onto his hair and instinctively pull him closer. his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he mutters “fuck” under his breath, gripping your thighs tighter as his tongue curls deeper in you)
TAMAKI
✮ *taps mic* is thing on? okay.— FUCK the shy guy shit, tamaki is extremely good at eating pussy and honestly idk how.
✮ he’d be all innocent, acting like he’s not even all that good at oral but the first time you suggested he go down on you he had you gripping at his hair in seconds.
✮ now.. don’t get me wrong his shy tendencies do still shine, he prefers to eat you out when he’s laying on his stomach while head is under the cover (so you can’t see him)
HAWKS
✮i need this man rn
✮face sitter!!! president of face sitting!!!
✮ my god his praises when he’s eating you out is chef KISS. he’d tell you how sexy you look 50 times before you even make it to his face.
✮ he’s sweet and an eater that aims to please!! but… he occasionally likes edging you. — he’d act all innocent just when you were about to cum saying “oh were you close baby? i didn’t even know, looks like we gotta start over”— and you do. over. and over. (he’s a little shit that finds you stupidly attractive so he likes to hold you up)
AIZAWA
✮ another man who fucking loves fingering. (not to diminish his eating skills because TRUST it’s there) but no, we’re here to talk about how evil he is when he’s fingering you.
✮you wanna know why he likes fingering you so much? because he gets to use his mouth to taunt you to no end —don’t get me wrong , he loves you and would do anything for you….but he doesn’t make it easy
✮ he loves to have you in his lap, your legs draped over his so that he could control how wide he wants you to be. he keep his lips right next to your ear. taunting you, praising you, talking you through it in a perfect mix that has you soaking his fingers before you even know it.
KIRISHIMA
✮face sitting co president!!! and eating it from the back enthusiast. (an ass man!!!!)
✮ such an eager and obedient eater… like a dog
✮ eats you out for his satisfaction. it brings him peace knowing that you get to finish more than once just by his hands and mouth alone.
✮he’d do it every damn day if he could (he does, or at least he tries. you tell him you need a break every now and then)
DENKI
✮ whines when he eats you out… yeah take a minute and think about that ik i am
✮no seriously though, he gets lost in it, FAST.
✮talk about the definition of greedy. he’s constantly pulling you closer and closer to his mouth as if he wasn’t damn near nose deep in your cunt :P
BAKUGO
✮ oh my god he’s so fucking rough with it.
✮ i don’t want to hype his game up that much but id have to say he’s the best eater on the list..
✮ his fingers were just made to be inside you. rough, yet strategic. gliding his fingertips over n over on that spot that makes you see stars
✮is never satisfied with making you finish only once— in his words “that’s shit’s too fucking weak” and strives to make it 3
TODOROKI
✮ gentle gentle eater.
✮ takes his time to kiss every part of you and work his way down to where you want him most
✮ god he is the most attentive in this damn list, he even has Izuku beat. he listen to your needs so well you barely have to tell him what you need because he’d already know
cw: MINORS DNI—explicit sexual content, gn!+afab!reader, a lot of anonymous sex, dirty talk, BIG DICK MEN, probably a good amount of ooc, some questionable dynamics/dubcon that can be read through the lens of roleplay and/or prior consent. character-specific warnings—chuuya: public sex, penetration; dazai: penetration, riding, creampie; kunikida: professor/student, oral (m!receiving); fukuzawa: secretary/boss, office sex, oral (m!receiving), facefucking; atsushi: HEAVY DUBCON WARNING, stuck, perv atsushi, penetration; akutagawa: blackmailing if you squint, degradation, choking, penetration; oda: penetration; ango: public sex, penetration, riding; nikolai: dubcon, home intruder f!masturbation, penetration; sigma: a tiny bit of perv sigma, oral (f!receiving); fyodor: priest!fyodor, religion/blasphemy kink, christianity-specific, oral (m!receiving)
reid: putting my dual major in journalism to work by subtitling these like bad porn videos. little not so thought out drabbles many with no definitive ending just silly whore thoughts. some are more stupid than sexy but either way i hope you enjoy because this was a blast to write HAHAHAHA
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
⊹ CHUUYA NAKAHARA—HOT GYM BUDDIES CAN’T WAIT UNTIL AFTER THEIR WORKOUT TO FUCK!
“Yeah, that’s a lot better. Look at you, you got it,” the pretty redhead mutters, his hands still firmly on your hips as he spots your squat. “Give me one more, I know you can.”
The praise prompts you to draw in a deep breath that has nothing to do with your next squat; anyway, this gorgeous man, kind enough to help you with your form, believes in you. So you bend once more, squatting down, down, and pushing back up—until on your way back up, you feel your legs begin to buckle.
“Woah, woah.” It’s sweet how concerned he sounds as his hands fly up to the bar and his feet nudge you forward to help you replace the weight on the rack, but his hips end up pressed to yours, and you’re gasping. “You okay?”
You’re fine, caged between him and the bar as he leans over your shoulder to glimpse your face that’s flushed from exertion. Only exertion, surely, even though your ass is pressed firmly to his pelvis. He doesn’t seem hard, but you can still feel it, and it feels big.
“Yeah,” you breathe, moving to duck under the bar, but it’s low and you’re feeling a little dizzy, so you teeter backwards into him, and as his hands find your waist again. “Yeah, I’m about to be done anyway.”
“You should really stretch after maxing out like that,” he suggests, turning you around. “Don’t wanna be hurting, do you?”
But you can only look into his intense eyes and shake your head lightly before he’s easing you to the ground on your back, settling each of his knees over one of your thighs, and slotting his shoulder beneath your hamstring. He pushes forward, gently, slowly, looking to you for anything wrong; and there isn’t.
There’s nothing wrong, except for the fact that you can feel his huge dick against your pussy through both of your shorts.
It’s all you need to start moving blindly, reaching down for his waistband, pawing at his neck, mashing his lips to yours, and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back—he lets up on your leg only to slip your shorts off before your ankle is back over his shoulder and he’s grinding the head of his cock into your wetness.
“You gonna let me in, baby?” he pants hotly, looking down at you squirming beneath him. “Yeah, I know you will—you’re strong, you can take it.”
His tip catches on your clit, and you gasp before he’s plunging into you, setting a brutal pace. “Oh, fuck!”
“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he groans. “So fuckin’ tight.”
He hits the inside of you perfectly, his soft ginger hair falling loose from its low pony—you wish you knew his name so you could scream it, but you settle for moaning, panting, cussing, as he throws your other leg over his shoulder and drills into you on the gym mat. ⊹
⊹ OSAMU DAZAI—MY OLDER BROTHER ALMOST CAUGHT ME FUCKING HIS BEST FRIEND!
“Shit—I’ll be back, gonna go shower this off. Asshole.”
That was what your older brother, Chuuya, grumbled at Dazai before scurrying off to the bathroom. The three of you had just gotten back from getting ice cream, and Dazai had the brilliant idea of snatching Chuuya’s cone from him and sticking it in his hair. Cursing ensued the entire walk home.
And Dazai popped the tail end of his cone in his mouth and grabbed for your wrists as soon as your brother was out of sight, which leads you to now—in the living room, on the couch, bouncing furiously on his cock as he grunts.
“Osamu—be quiet!” you plead with him, but you’re moaning, too.
His lips fall into a grin. “Don’t worry, cutie, I can still hear the shower—fuck! Just keep—keep doing that, you feel so fucking good.”
So you reinforce your grip on his shoulders and slam your hips down to meet his, over and over, drawing sinful sounds from both of your bodies as you’re separated by a single thin wall from your brother—Dazai’s best friend, who would probably murder both of you if he found out you were fucking.
And then the water turns off. You muffle the choked cry you let out into Dazai’s shoulder, so damn frustrated that you won’t get there, not before Chuuya comes back—but Dazai’s flipping you onto your back, grabbing you by your hips, pulling you into him with such fervor that you almost shout.
“Need it, baby, I need to cum in this pussy—”
“Osamu!”
But even you can’t tell if you’re egging him on or warning him to stop—with no sound buffer and Chuuya undoubtedly coming back any minute, your body decides for you that you need it, too, you need to cum and you will, no matter how much your mind protests; your eyes flick nervously up to the hallway when they’re not rolling back from how Dazai’s rearranging your guts.
“He’s gonna come back—unh—and you’re gonna sit here with my cum in you, and he won’t even fuckin’ know.”
He’s digging his nails into your hips and ass, making you twitch, reaching down to rub your clit hard, and when you cum, clenching around him, he shoves his palm over your mouth and spills into you with a last few wet smacks.
Dazai’s scrambling back into his pants as footsteps pad down the hall; he all but throws himself at the other end of the couch as you curl up, dressed but fucked silly, focused on not letting the evidence of what just happened gush out of you and leak onto the couch.
“Fuck was that noise?” Chuuya mumbles, sauntering out as he’s tying his wet hair up.
“Hm? I don’t know, I didn’t hear anything.”
When Chuuya turns toward the kitchen, Dazai tosses you a wink. Your face burns as you feel yourself leaking. ⊹
⊹ DOPPO KUNIKIDA—COLLEGE HOTTIE SUCKS DICK FOR EXTRA CREDIT!
"You do realize I'm going to have to fail you," your professor informs you, looking into your eyes with a little regret. Truthfully, you've always been personable in class and shown promise as a student, and he's disappointed. Not in you, just in your poor academic performance during your final semester.
"There has to be something I can do to make up for it," you nearly plead, hands clasped together on the edge of his desk as you look to him with hope. You know you've been slacking, but you need this class to graduate.
"I don't know—" He sighs your name, clearly confliced. Your attendance record is less than impressive these days, and Kunikida's enforced a strict class participation policy throughout his years of teaching—as well as no extra credit—something he makes clear to all of his students in all of his classes, and you especially should know better after taking his classes for four years. "I don't know. Like what?" Maybe you can do a few credits in the summer and still walk at graduation, or pick up an internship. But he wants you to take the initiative and accountability.
He doesn't really know how to protest when you're slipping out of your seat and sinking to your knees as a spark starts to gleam in your eyes. You rattle off a few academic ideas for posterity, but ultimately find your hands sliding up his thighs and fiddling with his belt.
Fuck it, you think, you'll be out of here soon enough. Plus, Kunikida's always been kind, compassionate, understanding, and sexy—too invested in his field to even notice that handfuls of students on campus would throw themselves at him given the chance. Maybe he'll finally understand, you muse to yourself, as you work his hardening cock out of his dress pants.
He chokes out your name when you take his length in both of your hands; he's all the way gone when you're swirling your tongue over his tip, giving in to your little idea for extra credit sooner than he'd ever admit to himself.
"Oh, fuck—" He's staring up at the ceiling of his office in pure bliss because his student is working hot, sloppy kisses down the underside of his cock. His hands twist into your hair, and you gaze up at him, doe-eyed, as his head falls forward and he looks at you through his glasses. "Keep going. Don't fucking stop."
He's trying not to thrust into your mouth when you fondle his balls; his pretty blond bangs are dampening with sweat, and you can't take your eyes off him as you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks around him and moaning at the taste of your professor's cock heavy in your mouth. He twitches and jumps at your attention to detail—your fingers raking tracks down his thighs, your frantic tongue, your fluttering lashes and sugary moans, gags, and slurps that are music to him.
You know, as he falls apart more and more by the second, you won't have to worry about this class anymore.
"Unh—uh, yes, oh, fuck, we'll work something out, yeah, gorgeous? Just don't stop—d—don't stop, don't fucking stop, I'm gonna cum down that pretty throat, yeah, and we'll get it all figured out." ⊹
⊹ YUKICHI FUKUZAWA—NAUGHTY SECRETARY SEDUCES HOT BOSS!
You're perched on his desk when he returns from the meeting—Yukichi, your boss, who, lately, you can't stop thinking about climbling like a tree. You're sure your coworkers see it, too, but you're his personal assistant; no one gets to be as close to him as you, and he trusts you.
Which is why you'll put the moves on him today.
He runs a hand through his silver hair—obviously stressed—sighing as he pulls his office door shut and turns to you. He speaks your name, holds a few papers in your direction, begins instructing you on what he needs from you next.
But you know better what he needs. The papers that make their way into your hands are quickly forgotten about on his desk as you uncross your legs and hop down, sauntering up to place on hand on his arm, the other on his chest.
"Sir, you look so tense. Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do?"
He makes his way to sit down in his office chair, disregarding your touch in a way that has you following after him like a puppy in need of attention.
He doesn't answer, but he also doesn't protest when you settle between his knees beneath his desk and push his yukata and haori up to pool around his hips. His dick is thick and veiny, even soft; when you spit in your hand and begin to work him up and down his mouth falls open with a sigh, and he grows at least two inches as he hardens beneath your grip.
You didn't think you'd be able to fit his absolute monster cock in your mouth, but you find yourself, throat open, with your nose pressed to his happy trail as you swirl your tongue and breathe through your nose frantically; he holds your face down, speaking very little but making up for it with the way he grunts hotly in that deep, rough voice as he bucks into the back of your throat.
"Unh—ugh..."
You breathe through your nose as his hips fall into a brutal pace; his hands on either side of your head keep you pinned in place as he uses you, takes his stress out on you. Your fingers massage his balls, and you can't help the way you hum around him when he twitches in your mouth.
Yukichi pulls out of your jaw and you gasp for air, wiping the spit that drips down your chin with the back of your hand, but he's not done. When he does speak, it's demanding, low, and it makes your cunt throb with need.
"Get up. Get up, sit on the desk. 'Need to fuck you."
You do as you’re told, open up for him with no hesitation, smiling as he works his fat cock into you—yeah, his stress will be gone in no time with the way he fucks your hole so hard and fast that you shake with each creak of his desk. ⊹
⊹ ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA—STUCK IN THE ELEVATOR WITH MY SEXY NEIGHBOR!
"Ah! Atsushi, open the door!"
"Um," he frets, punching the button until he's sure it'll break. If it's not broken already. "I—I can't, it's not working!"
Not working? Is he fucking serious? You're trapped in the door—all you did was try to reach back out for your bag you'd set by the elevator and now you're stuck, by the waist, between the two sliding maneuvers, your bag dangling from your hands.
"It's supposed to have a sensor! It's not supposed to even close when someone's on the threshold!" you cry through your teeth as you try to squirm out. Atsushi's mind is already working, though, over the way you're pinned in half, wiggling your ass as you struggle against the industrial strength of the elevator door. "Atsushi, help me, please call someone or something—"
But his hands are on your hips, pulling backward, and you can't help the noise of surprise that slips out of you.
"Atsu', I seriously don't think that will work, please, just call—Atsushi!"
His hands shake as he slides your pants and underwear down your thighs, exposing your ass; he tunes out your protesting as he undoes his belt. You hear the clink of it hitting the ground, you feel his fingers dipping into your cunt from behind, and he cannot be fucking serious.
"I'm sorry," he cries like it's out of his control—he feels like it is. "I'm sorry, you're so hot, you're right here, I've wanted this for so long."
And you feel yourself beginning to drip at his desperate tone. You can't fucking believe it—this is depraved. This is some shit you would've never expected from the sweet, cute boy in the apartment across the hall who helped you drag your bedframe and couch from this very elevator to your room but here he is, prodding at you with his pathetically leaky cock while you're stuck in the damn elevator door.
And you'd be frustrated with how your body reacts, but as he slides his dick along your cunt, drenching himself in your wetness, you can't help but arch back into his touch.
"Atsushi, you have to fuck me, please."
And he does, fast and unpracticed—he whimpers for you, tells you you're all he thinks about when he jerks off; he confesses that he looks through his peephole when he knows you're leaving for work or school just to get at least one glimpse of you everyday to fuel his imagination, and you gush around him, the pain of the door trapping you falling irrelevant, drifting out of your mind, as he buries his face in your shoulder and humps into you like an animal, pounding against your cervix.
"Fuck, that's right, so good, so, so good—better than I could've imagined—agh, fuck, that's right, take it all, take it, take it, take it...!" ⊹
⊹ RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA—HOT BABE HAS NO MONEY, LETS THE DELIVERY BOY DESTROY THAT PUSSY!
You rifle through your wallet and hum when you come up short. "Um, I... know you said you don't have a card reader, but I don't have enough cash."
The delivery boy looks at you with little more than boredom until you invite him in.
"Here, let me look in my room—I might have more stashed somehwere..."
He stands over you, searching you with his curious gray eyes as you dig through a drawer, a bag, another bag, only to come up short again. You even peek under your mattress for good measure, but you're just out. You turn to him sheepishly.
"I, uh... I don't have enough, I'm really sorry."
"Well, I can't leave without some form of payment," he deadpans, and you try to think of something, anything—you have a few giftcards for other delivery services, some jewelry—but he's letting his bag fall off his shoulder and grabbing you by the hips before you can register what he means.
You end up face down, ass up on your bed as a compromise, his hips rutting into you from behind as he holds your wrists behind your back. Ryuunosuke his name tag read—you're quick to adopt a way around that mouthful, moaning out, "Ryuu, Ryuu, please!" as he splits you open and calls you a whore.
"Fuckin' slut—"
When you're able to glance back for a second you can see his pretty black hair swaying with each rough thrust, and you're sure he's hitting your lungs—he's so fucking deep inside you, and you're gasping, moaning for more.
"—so eager to—unh—take this dick. Probably hiding your cash somewhere."
But whether you are or not doesn't matter; your eyes are rolling back to the hard smack of his hips against your ass and the white-hot pleasure that rolls through you every time he plows straight into your g-spot, and he's throbbing inside of you at the way your cunt grips him. Your pizza's getting cold on the counter in your kitchen, but you don't care—not when he bunches his fingers up in your hair to arch you back up to him so he can wrap his other hand around your throat.
You hold onto him as he bends you, pulling air down into your lungs when you can, and his gravelly voice barrages you with more words that make you gush around his cock.
"Gonna let me cum in this pussy so you don't have to fork over a few bucks for a pizza? Pathetic."
His teeth sink into your shoulder, his other hand reaches down to torture your neglected clit, and you're sure he's gonna break you over this, your hot delivery boy who just so happened to have the idea to fill you up as payment. You pant his name desperately between thunderous moans—you're gonna cum soon. ⊹
⊹ SAKUNOSUKE ODA—THIS PLUMBER FIXED MORE THAN JUST MY PIPES!
"Okay, that should do it." The man stands up, back to a height at which he towers over you, and you lean on the doorframe to the kitchen as he shuts the cabinets beneath your sink. "It's all movin' again."
You were in your robe when you answered the door, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't run to the bathroom to fix your hair and swipe on a little lip balm while he was working. Really, you hadn't meant to try to fuck the plumber. But this man was gorgeous, with his auburn hair, stubble-lined jaw, large hands, broad shoulders. You felt your eyes widen when you first laid eyes on him, and now you'd been throbbing thinking about what those thick fingers could do other than plumbing.
You pull your robe tighter around yourself, hoping to subtly accentuate the outline of your body. "Thank you so much, really, I don't know what I'd have done without the sink."
"Probably used the dishwasher a lot more," he cracked dryly, and your previous words suddenly feel stupid, but it only serves to make him hotter.
"How should I pay you?" You stride over to him. "Cash?"
"You can just pay online." He looks tired, but he has a well-meaning smile on his face.
You look a little incredulous. "Really? I can't—do you accept tips? Seriously, top notch work and super quick. I can't not thank you."
"I'm really not supposed to take tips," he drawls, running a hand through his hair. You find yourself biting your lip; you can't look away from him. You must look like a rabid animal right now, but you can't help it.
He doesn't tear his eyes away from yours.
"I mean, unless..."
Those three words are what find you on your back in your bedroom with your robe thrown open, the sweet and efficient plumber named Sakunosuke standing at the edge as he impales you on his cock. He worked you open with those fingers first, fast and harsh, just how you begged him to, but nothing could've prepared your weeping hole for the stretch of his fat dick—and now he's pounding into you, his hands clutching your waist as you hold your legs open for him to thrust deeper, deeper.
“Oh, shit. Unh—so wet—“
His groans come from his chest, deliciously—he looks a little like he knows he shouldn't be doing this, but your cunt is sucking him in like it was what he was supposed to come here for all along. You spasm and clench around him and he throws his head back, your whole body rippling as his strong hips and heavy balls smack lewdly against your ass with each thrust.
“Mmph—fuck—break that sink of yours more often, alright?” ⊹
⊹ ANGO SAKAGUCHI—I JOINED THE MILE HIGH CLUB (EXTREMELY RISKY)!
The man you met in the airport bar—oh, he’s pretty.
He's even prettier in your mind when the pilot announces phone permissions now that you're in the air, and the first notification your phone receieves is from him.
I have an open seat next to me in first class. Come visit.
You don't hesitate for a moment. You stride forward from the economy section, past the flight attendants who protest at you flimsily to search for his seat number—you see his unmistakably gorgeous hair, his glasses, his sharp side profile as he speaks to an attendant, catches you in his peripheral, and then shoos her away.
There's hardly niceties before one of your legs is slung over his knee and he kisses you with fervor. You don't think too hard about the people around you—none of whom can actually see you but without a doubt will know exactly what's happening in a few minutes—as you grind down onto his thigh, bite his lips, draw soft gasps from him when your knee nudges his bulge.
Before you know it, his cock is free and he slides your underwear to the side so you can sink onto him; he groans shamelessly when your wet heat envelops him completely, causing heads to turn in your direction, but you just brace your knees against the airplane seat and your hands on his shoulders make quick work of milking him of everything he has.
He kisses you, hot, heavy; he smells good, he smells expensive, and you tear his dress shirt open to rake your nails down his chest as he grabs your hips, letting his head fall back and a full-bodied moan into the cramped air of the plane as he does so. You lift up to let him thrust, let lewd smacks resonate throughout first class, and with your chest in his face he rides your shirt up to latch his teeth to one of your nipples; you echo him, moaning unabashedly, running your hands through your hair, gripping him as people look on.
"Fuuuck, yeah, feels so good," he praises from beneath you. "Knew I had to fuck you from the second I saw you." His eyebrows draw up in concentration as he looks down at where your bodies meet and continues fucking up into you hard. "Hah—listen to that cunt cry for me. You like being watched, huh? Gonna let me fuck you 'til the plane smells like sex? Huh?"
You nod, messily, desperately, and he quickens his pace ever faster, pulling you back down into a sloppy kiss.
An attendant awkwardly approaches in the aisle, but the gorgeous man who's destroying your insides just holds up a palm, shoos her away again.
"Fuck—so sexy. Keep takin' this dick." ⊹
⊹ NIKOLAI GOGOL—LUCKY INTRUDER GETS TO FUCK HORNY VICTIM!
You're splayed out on your bed, two fingers stuffed deep in your cunt—and he's just surprised you didn't hear him breaking the lock on your front door.
When you meet his eyes, you're so glazed over with pleasure that you barely miss a beat, your gaze only blowing wide when he peers around your bedroom doorway. His snowy white hair, his sharp features—you can't find the sense to be alarmed at this unfamiliar man, the one holding your laptop and—is that your wallet?
Doesn't matter—they're clattering to the ground, another factor here you can't find it in yourself to care about as his gray eyes are locked onto you fucking yourself open on your sheets. The sheen of sweat that covers your skin, your desperate moans as you grind your clit against your palm, the obscene squelching that comes from your wet cunt—they all serve to propel him over to you, prompt him to dig his already-hard cock out of his pants as you just watch, beg him with your stare to come fill you up. You're so lucky he's here, really—you look like you're struggling to get deep enough with your pathetic little fingers; he guesses it's only fair that he repay you for the material goods he's about to rob you of and pawn off on whatever sucker will buy them for cash, right?
"Right? I'll help you out—" He gives his cock a few pumps as he positions himself between your legs, "—looks like you need it, sweetheart."
You can only bite your lip to supress the moan that leaves you as he enters your cunt and lifts your fingers up and out of you by your wrist to swirl his tongue around them, lick them clean. He's huge—even your third and fourth fingers weren't enough to prepare you properly for the burglar’s dick in your needy pussy, so you let out strained combinations of gasps and screams when he starts to drill into you mercilessly. You can't help the way your ankles link behind his back, the way you reach for him—and he smiles wickedly when your eyes roll back.
"You like having a stranger's cock deep in your guts, huh?" he speaks between deep sighs and grunts. You can only babble your incoherent agreement, your laptop and wallet forgotten, the actions of this man forgotten, everything but how desperately you need to squirt all over him forgotten—you reach down and rub your clit, play with your nipples as your mouth is frozen open as you moan, moan for this man who's just broken into your home. "Uh—yeah, you're gonna like takin' all my cum, too, I bet." ⊹
⊹ SIGMA—MASSEUR HELPS HIS SEXY CLIENT RELIEVE STRESS!
"Oh, yeah—right there," you groan softly as the heel of his palm meets the center of your back. You've been looking forward to this full-body massage the whole week, and this man was not disappointing.
He works his way down your back, twisting knots out as he goes—his lithe fingers feel like heaven against you, overworked from hours at your desk hunched over your computer.
But it's a full-body massage, as mentioned before; when his fingers dig into the plush of your asscheeks, you can't help the groan that leaves you.
"That okay?" he inquires; you think you hear a shake in his voice.
"More than okay," you reply, thinking you could fall asleep as he works you into relaxation. You could close your eyes from how good it feels, or you could peek behind you and see his face burning with blush at your sounds. You do the former, but smirk a little at how sweet it is of him to check in.
He checks in again when his hands are inching your underwear down, and you tell him of course, he's the professional.
He's still the professional when he climbs up on the table behind you and buries his flushed face into your cunt. You arch up and back, crooning, as his hands stay massaging you, spreading you apart, kneading your ass with career expertise and plunging his tongue into you with enthusiasm.
"Oh! Oh—feels good," you breathe, grinding back into his face, onto his nose. He laps at you happily, this masseur you've barely looked upon for a total of twenty seconds, but you can't lie to yourself and say you didn't think he was pretty when he led you back to his room; he hums into you, sending you shivering, twitching. "Please, more."
"Mhm," he mumbles, releasing one of your asscheeks to lay back beneath you and insert a long, thin finger into your pussy; you sigh, you settle onto his face, and his tongue speeds up in this new position in a way that rips a high moan from your lungs.
Not hunched, but arched, the stretch feels heavenly on your back in combination with the way he pumps another finger into you; you graciously sit up, throwing your head back, begging, pleading for more until his tongue settles into a tight back-and-forth rhythm over your clit. "Please, please, please—"
You grind against his nose, your moans become more erratic, and you dig a hand into his hair as your hips move in dizzying circles over his head.
"Cum for me?" he asks, muffled by your pussy; you'll ride him until his face is soaked. ⊹
⊹ FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY—CONFESSING MY SINS ENDS IN HUGE CUMSHOT ALL OVER MY FACE!
“And I’ve been terribly, terribly lustful, Father Fyodor,” you say with regret. “It consumes me. I really never used to be like this."
"Temptation lurks everywhere," the priest sympathizes. You can barely see him through the grate, but his soft, forgiving voice sounds close to you. "The Devil and his army are constantly exploiting our vulnerabilities to try and turn us to sin, but worry not, child of Christ; we're human. I'm here to guide you. Continue."
You shift on the wooden seat in the booth, crossing your hands tighter over your lap. "That's really all. It's been very concerning to me. I think about it... I think about it so much."
"About what?" Father Fyodor prompts, and you bristle even more at being asked to elaborate.
"Sex," it barely comes out as more than a whisper. "I can't help it—it's everywhere. It leaves me feeling so... exhausted and frustrated, and the only thing that helps is... Well..."
But you're met with silence. You know he wants you to go on. You're here to confess, after all.
"...touching myself. I do it at least once a day. It's like a burning within me—nothing helps but—but—cumming all over my fingers." Your voice is laced with shame—the throbbing of your cunt as you talk makes you feel all the more guilty, and you can only imagine how he's shaking his head. "That's all. That's all."
"You'll do penance," he says, comfortingly. "When we bring our sins to the Lord and repent he cleanses us of them."
The grate pops out of the window, and you see the the waist of his alb as he speaks his next words.
"You'll take communion, now—" the cinctures around his waist fall undone beneath his hands, and the alb is hiked up to reveal a leaking cock, pretty and pale and bobbing in the air of the confessional. "—and be saved from the flames of perdition.”
"Yes, Father, please. Anything to be saved." But your mouth waters in a way that you know has little to do with your thirst for salvation.
"Take this; eat. This is my body," he recites the scripture as his length reaches through the window; your hands, eager and already on the threshold, accept him willingly. As you wrap your mouth around him, he groans, and it's like seraphim singing their holy, holy, holy.
"That's it—child of God, follower of Christ; I absolve you of your sins," he gasps as his tip hits the back of your throat which was begging for forgiveness moments ago. His hands reach through the window to stroke either side of your face, and then hold you in place to fuck your throat. "The Lord will forgive you for this." ⊹
“Mmh, baby m’so proud of you.” You breathe heavily. Michael’s breath hitches, face heating up as he stare at you. “Y-yeah?” His voice close to a whimper.
Michael received an honorary doctorate today for his contributions to the black education system. Oh you loved him so so much, he was so caring.
That’s why you were riding him right now to let him know just how much you appreciate him.
You lean down, moaning into his mouth as you roll your hips, giving him all of you. He moans into your mouth, hands finally leaving the sheets to grip your hips.
“Hmnh-“ he whimpers, brows furrowed and biting his lip as he runs his hands over your curves. “Love you so much..” he expresses, big doe eyes on yours.
“I love you too baby,” you hum, sitting up and pressing your hands against his chest. “You make me so proud,” you praise.
He whines in adoration, staring up at you like he was gonna melt.
“You do everything for everybody..so handsome..” you moan, rolling your hips slow. Causing him to throw his head back and grip your hips tighter with those big hands of his.
“You’re so caring Michael. So sweet, and an even sweeter soul. Y’know that Mikey?” You ask breathlessly as you tilt your head.
Tears prick his eyes from how good he feels, nodding vastly. “Yes…yes, yes, I know, I swear I know,” He cries, still focused on you. His baby. His lady. All his to love on him.
“Oh my gosh.” He groans with a cry, throwing his head back harshly as his eyes practically roll to the back of his head. He tries to suppress a whimper, but ultimately fails miserably as he moans, sending a few thrust up into your pulsing cunt til your finishing right with him.
You whine, nails digging into his shoulders as you ride out your high, collapsing against him.
After a few moments, you lift your head. Arms crossed underneath your head as you look down at him. “Congratulations ‘graduate’.” You giggle, tracing patterns on his chest.
He sits up ever so slightly, pecking your forehead with a worn out smile. “Thank you mama. I really appreciate that.”
You peck his lips a few times before he’s got a sly grin on his face and his cheeks are real high, an idea coming to him.
“Since you’re so proud of me…you wanna ride me again?” He suggests.
“Just a thought.” He quickly defends as you stare at him with a blank expression.
A/N: idea randomly came to my head, but I love this video of him sm you guys don’t understand.
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HAPPY BELATED BDAY QUEENNNNN 23 candles bowwww😜😜(I love ur fics omg I need giyuu sb💔 but yes they're so peak ,, I went thru ur whole masterlist yesterday and it's literally all my taste I ascended.)
THANK YOU AHHH!!! i hope to write more demon slayer v soon 🧘🏽♀️ someone requested it too and i hear yall!!
HIii!!!! I was just wondering since my birthday is coming up soon, can you write something about how blue lock characters would treat the reader on their birthday if they were dating/married to that blue lock character? It's fine if no, just wondering! C=
I HOPE THIS IS WHAT U WETE ASKING FOR!!! AND HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYYYYY!!!!! also i saw your other request and im working on it;)
my take on how the bllk boys would celebrate your bday!! requested by @lung-3ater HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE!!
authors note: (i was listening to Trey songz and was like omg lemme write this) some will have more/less than other bc my brain was struggling)
ISAGI
⟡ isagi strikes me as the bf who wouldn’t do too much but also wouldn’t do too little, you know?
⟡ he’d start your day off with a surprise bouquet of your favorite flowers (i feel like his mom drilled it into his head to always get girls flowers so he knows to always make sure he comes with them in hand) then from there he’d do anything you’d wanna do. pedicures? sure, he’ll tag along and get one too. go to a bookstore? sure, he’ll but you a couple and hold them while you browse. wanna go see a movie? say the word and he’s there!
⟡he’d end the night by surprising you with a homemade cake he made! it might not be the prettiest but he’d made sure to make your favorite flavor and add your favorite colors to make up for it
BACHIRA
⟡ my spontaneous little bee!!!
⟡ he loves being the absolute first one to tell you happy birthday, and he’s the loudest to tell you too!
⟡ he’d DEFINITELY have birthday plans for you, things you wouldn’t imagine trying but you end up loving them because he knows you would.
⟡ i believe he’d love to give you, experiences? as gifts for your birthday. like if you guys go on a hike he’s making sure he’s picking the trail with the most gorgeous view, or trying a new activity with you!
NAGI
⟡ he would start your birthday morning with extra long cuddles in the morning as a pre birthday gift to your actual gift. he’d nuzzle his head in the crook of your neck, humming lazily as he mummers “happy birthday pretty”
⟡ the rest of the day would be like normal, he’d let you do your own thing, while he did his. although, if you wanted him around he’d do whatever you’d ask without hesitation.
⟡ what’s really cute about nagi is that he’d tell you to get dressed up and be ready without any details and proceeded to take you out for a really nice dinner at a restaurant he’d hear you talk about in passing. (im team nagi tries and puts in effort when he wants to!!)
REO
⟡ it’s no surprise that he shows out for every occasion and your birthday isn’t an exception.
⟡ your morning would start off with him waking you up with breakfast (that he made) in bed and a small gift as a first little surprise. (i def think his love languages are acts of service and gift giving so that’s his main ways of celebrating you for him)
⟡ from there he’d let you go on a shopping spree to whatever store you wanted— his phrase of the day would be “anything for the birthday princess” all while he carried your bags for you enjoying watching you browse around the stores.
KUNIGAMI (this is prewildcard bc i cant stand him being in this tough guy mode rn)
⟡kunigami would be the sweetest partner on your birthday!
⟡ this is random but he def would kiss your forehead in the morning just before he got up to start the breakfast and whisper “happy birthday gorgeous”
⟡ he’d try and wake up early so that he could surprise you with your favorite breakfast, but the smell of the good food paired with his absence always drifted you towards him in the kitchen, wrapping your arms around him as he tried to finish
⟡ kunigami is a bf who loves to plan really cute and meaningful dates because he knows you’d love and deserve them—so for your birthday he’d plan a cute picnic at a park with foods that he knows you love.
SHIDOU
⟡ i’d imagine shidou gifting you a portrait he drew of you for your birthday (bc i think he’s artistically inclined) or a sexy piece of clothing he saw at the store and requested you’d wear that for later
⟡ he’d take you out on a really nice dinner where you’d both dress up really nice and he’d be your personal photographer all evening (honestly he’d be sneakin pics of you all day tbh..)
⟡ i will end this here bc the rest of everything i have to say will be sexual #thatsmyman
SAE
⟡ a big giver of expensive gifts!!! so your birthdays are always spent in different countries, with expensive foods and cute new outfits (he lovessss buying you new clothes)
summary: a drunken night out causes michael to end up giving in to his sexual desires after several months of denying you due to his religious beliefs.
warnings: heavy smut, drunken sex (unprotected), virgin!michael (yes again), sub!michael towards the end, mentions of alcohol use, accidental creampie, both !m and !f oral receiving, soft dom!reader, religion & values, sloppy makeout sesh, themes of guilt, michael’s obsessed with your tittieeesss,
a/n: back with some dirty shit
𑣲masterlist/taglist
You & Michael are approximately 2 hours deep into this unexpected night, tipsy & staggered from the multiple drinks you’ve been bought from various people. Pulsing fluorescent lights reflect off your tanned skin as you move fluidly to the music, a sheen coat of sweat covering your bare arms from the humidity of the room.
Michael hadn’t been on the dance floor yet despite your pleas, he’s still a little shy even when he’s drunk. Instead, he’d prefer to watch you as he sat at the bar, sipping on some mysterious liquor Quincey had brought him. His thick curls stuck to his temples from everyone’s body heat pooling in the room, yet he still kept his flannel shirt buttoned up right to the top.
You’d look over your shoulder at him occasionally, relishing in the way he’d ogle at the lower half of your body with an unconscious bite of his lip. Or when he’d giggle around the rim of his glass when you’d gyrate your hips in his direction intentionally, showing off the curve of your ass in your jeans.
You’d love to tease him like that, testing his endurance. Michael was a faithful, religious man. He believed in the avoidance of sexual & lustful acts before marriage. He grew up around that motive all his life, especially with his family. But he’s an adult now with his own choices, yet he’s still stuck in the mindset of a 15 year old boy who has to follow the rules, or has to abide by what his parents taught him. He doesn’t fully realise he is his own man now, & his natural love for women doesn’t help.
He’d deny himself for months, stopping when things got too intimate with you, or made him feel something he didn’t know how to handle. It’s not like he didn’t want to, you’d feel the stiffness of his cock poke your thigh every time you two were making out, or even simply cuddling. But whenever you were just about to make it to the inside of his pants, he’d stop you politely, taking your hand away.
“Baby, not yet,” he’d always say.
Alas, being Michael’s girl was a positive experience. You got to live the upper-echelon life, such as being invited to private parties in Beverly Hills by people who worked alongside him. At first, Michael didn’t even want to go to this party, said it’s not his thing. You were in the middle, you wanted to get him out of his comfort zone & have fun for the night since you two weren’t up to much. In the end, you had convinced him enough to go, so here you were.
Michael turns his head, his trance broken as he hears a muffled voice call his name. It’s a trendy young man, probably successful or famous. He looks like he has money, though Michael doesn’t seem to know him. But of course, everyone knows Michael. The man’s smiling with all teeth, holding out his hand for a handshake.
Michael takes his hand immediately, smiling back as they share a quick & rough pat on the back.
“Love your music, man!” He shouts over the speakers.
Michael semi-yells a thank you that comes out louder & sloppier than expected. He averts his gaze back to you, already distracted by your femininity. Your hands flay in the air as your hair paints your face, you’re loving every second.
“That y'girl?” He shouts near Michael's ear.
Michael snaps his head at him & nods like he’s proud to say yes.
“Yeah, that’s my girl. Beautiful ain’t she?” He practically says to himself, his voice high and sweet. His half-lidded drunken eyes stay glued on you.
The man throws him a small nod of approval, a playful smirk on his face.
“Damn right she is. Treat her right, man. In both ways if y’know what I mean.” He laughs, nudging him.
Michael lets his words hang in the air for a few seconds before laughing back, not quite sure why he’s laughing. Deep down, he wants you so damn bad. He craves you, he hates that he can’t have you yet. He feels embarrassed that he can’t provide that side of intimacy to his girl as a man. But god, if he could, he knew that embarrassment would vanish in no time.
Before Michael could fully respond, the man was strutting away, yelling at someone else. What he said made something shift in his brain, giving him a surge of confidence. How can he sit away from something so beautiful? He tips the last drops of his drink down his throat before placing it on the bar table with a clank. You see him walk over to you on the dance floor with an anticipative yet hungry look on his face. Your face lights up in surprise as he gets closer, doing a reeling motion with your hands. He chuckles from slight embarrassment.
As soon as he reaches you he places his hands on the small of your waist, rubbing absentmindedly. He looks at you like you’re the only girl in his world, like you’re a gift from God. He leans down towards your ear, moving the hair away,
“I missed you.” He whispers hoarsely, you can smell the alcohol on his hot breath.
You feel heat pool to your cheeks, a small smile creeping up the edges of your glossy lips.
“I missed you too, finally decided to come over huh?”
You place your hands on his shoulders as you push yourself up to pepper a kiss on his cheek. The second your lips were about to touch his face, he turns his head to meet you in the middle for a messy kiss, stealing the air from your lungs. His breath hitches immediately, his brows furrowing as he pushes his body flush against yours, his hands growing tighter as they grab the fat of your hips.
He wastes no time in opening his mouth & wrapping his tongue around yours. His chest heaves as he tilts his head to the side, making an impossible attempt to deepen the kiss & get closer. You were caught off guard by his forwardness, he never usually initiated makeouts first, it was always you. You weren’t complaining though. You’d been waiting months for this energy, & now that is was finally here you were practically buzzing.
You sling your arms over his shoulders, connecting your hands around the back of his neck as you kiss him back with the same amount of desperation. The tips of your fingers play with his curls at the nape of his neck as you hum pleasantly on his lips.
You feel Michael’s breaths fall shallow, panting in your mouth as the same feeling he’d usually try to avoid starts to crescendo inside of him. That’s when you feel something hard poking on your thigh, you knew it was him.
You break the kiss breathlessly, a thin glistening line of your mixed salvia snapping.
“Michael—“ you mumble. You look down between his legs.
The sight before you has you frozen. His bulge swells beneath his brown courdroy pants as if it wants to escape, almost looking painful. His chest continues to rise & fall as he looks down, instinctively covering it with one hand.
“M’ sorry, just want you so bad. I don’t know why I feel like this tonight,” he says sloppily, his lips puffy & wet.
He can barely stand on two feet, constantly swaying from side to side. You giggle as you put your hands on his chest to steady him, the little circles you trace making him swallow. His eyes are glassy under the light, laced with this lust & neediness that you secretly love. You wanted to put him out of his misery so badly — but he’d never let you.
“How much did you drink tonight?” You tease, your voice as sweet as candy.
“A lot, I think.”
Your hands make your way to the top button of his shirt, attempting to undo it. His hand flies to yours to stop it.
“What are you doin'?” He giggles.
“Relax baby, It’s just so hot in here, are you not burning up in this?” you say smoothly.
You knew that wasn’t the only reason. You just wanted to loosen him up, step by step. He lets his hand down as he watches you undo his top button, then the second, then the third. His exposed chest glows under the fluorescent lights, deep & rich in color.
You run a hand along his bare skin, looking at him for any sign of discomfort. You don’t find any, for once he doesn’t look that nervous at all. His hands find your hips again, pulling you in against his frame as he gnaws on his bottom lip. He leans forward towards your neck, drawing in a deep inhale through his nose. Your sweet feminine scent drives him crazy. The way his warm breath gently grazes your neck gives you goosebumps. You squeeze your thighs as you feel your cunt start to pulsate.
“Do you always smell this lovely?” He whispers against you as he continues smelling your neck area like a feline.
“Baby, what’s gotten into you?” You chuckle.
You just stand there, letting him smother himself all over you. If you’re being honest, his sudden wave of confidence threw you off guard, now you’re the one all nervous.
You gently slide one of your hands in between your glued bodies, making your way to his thighs. Your other hand on his lower back. You caress one gently, the sensation immediately making him wince. He flutters his eyes shut as he leans forward to press his lips against yours, not knowing what to do with himself.
You both end up deepening the kiss, the sides of your mouth growing wet. He whimpers your name into your lips as if he’s physically struggling to contain something. He pulls away a mere inch just enough to murmur,
“God help me.”
You feel him lightly grab your hand, moving it lower & lower until it reaches his bulge. Your eyes shot up at him, twinkling with mischief. That’s the last thing you expected him to do.
His forehead falls onto yours as he presses your palm against his cock, rewarding a low & relieving groan from his throat. He feels like rock in your grasp, making you salivate. Thank god you’re practically in the dark. You can feel his entire shaft as if there's no material on it, that's how erect he is. You give it a singular stroke from bottom to top, causing his mouth to fall agape.
“Mikey—“
“Let’s go home, I’ll call a cab” he plants a kiss on your collarbone, then on your lips, “Please.”
This is the first time Michael’s ever made a move like that. That was the first time you’d ever felt him down there, your heart skipped a beat the second you touched it. You’ve dreamt of that moment for months, him being all needy for your touch.
Michael called a cab the second you agreed to leave, rushing outside as he held your hand tight. You didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to anyone, his first priority was to get you home.
You gave the cab driver a hard time when you got in. You were all over each other on the ride home. You were both already spent, breathless & hot as you rammed your tongues down each other's throats, occasionally missing due to the darkness of the backseat. You could tell Michael was still trying to keep things safe, only making out with you. Not touching your 'lady parts' or anything, as he would call them. His hands would tremble as he held your shoulders tight, pushing his face into yours. You slide your hands under his flannel shirt, running your hands over his taut n’ clammy abdomen.
Kissing was the only thing he knew, the only thing he could do without feeling sinful. So it makes sense why his kisses feel so heated & desperate, his body needs more, yet it’s like he’s only restricted himself for kissing.
The red light at the junction illuminates the back seat, temporarily revealing your faces to each other. Michael looks down at your chest, your breasts almost falling out of your skimpy little top. He gently touches your necklace hanging above your cleavage, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"So beautiful, you're heaven-sent." He says, his voice cracking from being unused for the past 20 minutes of straight kissing.
When the taxi finally pulled up outside the house, Michael was already reaching for the door handle before the engine had fully settled. He shot a look at you, his face full of nerves & anticipation. You couldn’t help the smile that crept up on your face.
“Thank you,” you tell the driver. Michael was already out the car in a hurry, waiting on you.
Neither of you said anything as you scurried onto the front porch, desperate to be alone together. Michael drops the keys as he tries to get the lock open as soon as possible.
You didn’t quite know what it was Michael was rushing for, you had an idea, yet it seemed completely unrealistic given his morals.
Finally, he manages to get the front door open, ushering you in first before shutting it behind him with a slam.
He places the keys on the console table, turning to you. He burries his face into your neck, his hands running down your thighs. You laugh breathlessly, looking down at the floor.
“You’re gonna have to tell me to stop cus’ I can’t keep my hands off you, I’m sorry.” Michael cooes, his pants feeling tighter around his crotch again.
Telling him to stop was the last thing on your mind, that would be absurd. You look up at him through your lashes, puckering your lips a little, toying with him.
“I like it,” you whisper.
You plant a kiss on the sweet spot of his neck. His scent is warm & alluring, notes of fresh soap, vanilla, & a night out. You twist your head more, opening your mouth as you let your tongue glide wetly against his supple skin.
He’s never been kissed on the neck by you before, so the feeling immediately makes him freeze & contract, his eyes threatening to roll back to his head.
“Oh my—“ He whimpers.
He pulls away before you can get into it, grabbing your both your hands.
“Come upstairs with me.” He asks you, his words slurred as he starts to pull you towards the stairs.
You both make it to your bedroom, but it’s pitch black. You hear Michael click the door shut. Neither of you say anything for a second, the tension is thick in the air. You feel your cunt start to dampen due to the anticipation.
You stumble across the floor towards where you think your bedside lamp would be, you find it & flip the switch. The lamp casts a dim amber atmosphere. As soon as Michael sees where you are, he walks towards you, guiding you to the bed by your waist.
He plops himself down on the mattress, keeping his hands on you firmly. You stand between his open legs as you stroke his head, he looked so cute like this. His big brown eyes stay fixed on yours, never faltering. He moves his hands higher up your waist so they’re sitting a little below your breasts.
“What is it you want, Mikey?” You say just below a whisper, tilting your head.
“I want you.”
His voice is laced with confusion, like he feels ashamed to even admit such an obvious thing. He can’t help his boyish urges, it’s only biological & one can only take so much before it cracks.
His hands travel to the bottom of your shirt, lifting it up to reveal your bare stomach. He plays with your belly button piercing first, giving it a little kiss. He continues to drag his face along your skin, his breath hitching as he peppers kisses at the same time, his lips felt burning hot against you.
You drop your head back slightly at the feeling, muttering his name as your hands stay in his hair.
He leans away, starting to pull up your shirt slow & steady. He looks at you as if to earn your approval. You hum in agreement as you help him lift your shirt off, leaving you in your white laced bra, your t-shirt forgotten on the floor.
Michael gawks at your plumpy breasts, his eyes darting back & fourth from them to your face, as if he can’t believe you’re real. The fit was a little too small for you, so the tops were on the verge of falling out which didn’t help him.
You reach around as you begin to unclasp your bra, startling him.
He looked like a deer in headlights, about to freak out or something. You place one hand on his cheek, stroking him with your thumb.
“You wanna see them?” You ask, your voice wooing him deeper.
Michael nods slowly, looking a little ashamed. He can’t even utter the courage to physically say yes, like if he does he’d be struck down.
You return your hand to your clasp, undoing it completely. Your full, perky breasts fall free once the material falls, sitting neatly in-front of his face while your nipples stiffen up from your arousal.
Michael’s gawks at them, his lips slightly parted. He didn’t know what to do with this sweet piece of ass in front of him, he couldn’t handle it. He’s never seen a naked woman in front of him before. Sure, he’d seen them when he’d flip through Playboy magazines in secret before he met you, but never in person. He’d always feel guilty for simply looking, or for the way his cock would twitch.
“They’re so pretty.”
“Thank you, honey. You can feel them if you want.” You reply.
You take his hands, pulling them up & placing them on your breasts. You let his hands go, allowing him to get used to the feeling. He wastes no time in rubbing & squeezing them, his pupils blown out as he looks at you, completely enamoured.
You watch him come undone every second that passes, his body becoming less stiff, more fluid & relaxed. Finally, his mental restraint snaps. He holds one in his hand as he leans forward, latching his mouth onto your right nipple with a warm, gentle pull & a swirl of his tongue. The sudden shock of pleasure draws a breath from your lungs, making your thighs clench.
“Oh my god Michael—“
His other hand reaches up, rolling your hard nub between his fingers in time with each wet pull of his mouth. He continues this for a few minutes, completely fine with doing it for hours.
He releases you from his mouth with a wet pop as you push him back onto the mattress. His belt buckle rattles as you fiddle to get it open. You manage to slide it off in one motion, throwing it behind you. You undo his button next, inching him to lift his hips up so you can remove his pants.
Michael grows impatient as he scurries to help you push them down to his thighs until you take over & pull them off completely. You feel your mouth start to salivate at the sight of his cock standing tall under his white boxers, the outline & shape clear as day.
Honestly, you didn’t expect him to look as big as he does. You wonder how it will even fit inside of you. The way it swells makes you pout, feeling even more obliged to put him out of his misery by milking him dry.
“You sure you wanna do this baby? We can stop y’know.” You reassure him, running your hands up his prickly thighs.
“Please, I don’t care anymore. I need you, God I need you. It hurts to say no to you.” He practically whimpers the words, dragging a hand over one of your breasts.
You automatically bite your lip at his desperation, moving your hands to the bottom of his shirt, lifting it over his head.
You grab the waistband of his boxers & start pulling them down slowly, his shaft revealing itself more & more the farther down they get. His cock springs free as soon as you get them completely off, slick pre-cum already pooling at the top of his head.
His cock was visibly perfect, his tip a deep mauve tone. Long veins were raised beneath the delicate skin, gently pulsating.
You feel Michael’s hand wrap around your hair, grabbing gently as he anticipates your mouth.
“Please, please—“ he begs.
You wrap your hand around the shaft, giving his tip a small kitten lick, lapping up his juices. The saltiness of his fluids made you hum, the vibrations sending him over the edge.
His body contracts the second your tongue touches him, lengthy groans ripping from his throat as he struggles to stay tame. One of his hands grips the sheets, his knuckles turning white as the other remains tangled in your hair.
You begin lowering your head, attempting to take him all in one go. Your nose grazes his pubic hair, his size causing soft gags to erupt from your throat.
“Ah—y-yes!” He cries, his eyes gradually making their way to the back of his head.
You couldn’t imagine how Michael must’ve been feeling right now, containing all that horniness for months only to get his cock sucked in the most vulgar way possible for the first time.
Trails of your saliva run down the sides of your mouth as you begin bobbing your head with a steady rhythm. You yourself were drunk, so keeping a rhythm & not sucking messily felt hard.
Michael’s hand guides your head up & down as if it has a mind of its own, not aware what he’s doing. He was too far gone, he’s entire body stiffened up from the intense pleasure you were giving him.
He opens his eyes as he rises his head up, looking at you worryingly.
“I feel something happening,” he warns as his abs start to clench. “If you stop now, it won’t count, right?” He barely manages to get the sentence out, his voice cracking.
You release him from your mouth with a pop, stroking him absentmindedly. You chuckle to yourself, he really thinks if you stop before he cums, this sinful act won’t count.
“It’s okay to want want me, Michael” You mewl.
He throws his head back on the sheets, accepting his defeat. His body still twitching as you stroke him.
You stand on your feet as you start to unbutton your jeans, sliding them down & off your feet. He sits up, sliding his hands across the hem of your lace panties before slowly pulling them down, watching the way your pussy reveals itself to him in awe.
Before you could do anything else, Michael presses his face into your glossy folds, holding your ass in place so you don’t fall.
A pornographic moan spills from your lips as you tip your head back, followed by your eyes. He moves his head down for a better angle, lapping & sucking up all your juices. His tongue swirls around your entrance, hitting your clit occasionally making you wince.
“More, please more—“
He flips you around onto the bed, immediately diving between your legs to continue feeding off you. You keep your legs open for him as he holds the backs, pushing them forward. He flattens his tongue against the bottom of your slit, dragging it all the way up with a groan. He continues doing that a few times for his own gain, sending you over the edge.
You pinch your eyes shut as you start to feel your thighs clench around nothing, a familiar sensation starting to grow in your lower belly.
“You’re gonna make me come if you don’t stop.” You moan out.
If anything, he speeds up. You tug at the sheets while the messy slurps from his drunken mouth bring you closer. Your breathing falls shallow, paired with little whimpers as the feeling grows stronger until it finally takes over you.
“Right there, y-yes, coming!”
Black spots cloud your vision, your thighs trembling in his grasp as the cord in your belly snaps. You’ve never came so hard in your life, it was almost painful.
Michael crawls on top of you like a cat as he brings you in for another kiss, addicted to your lips alone. You hold his face, his hands braced next to your head. You exhale as you feel his cock tap against your pussy, wanting to enter.
Michael moves himself up & down, his tip sliding against your slit beautifully. Both of you being so so wet makes the sliding easy, almost slipping in every now & then.
“Want it so bad, ma. Please say yes.” He whispers in your ear, his head resting on your shoulder as he continues dragging it along your slit.
“Take it baby, t’s all yours.”
You push his ass, slowly crowning his tip inside you. A bittersweet sting forms as he plunges himself deeper inside, every inch forcing a moan out of the both of you. You sling your hands around his shoulders, keeping your legs open as wide as possible in hopes he’ll fit completely.
“So—tight, God.” He breathes out, pushing the last inches inside.
Once he’s fully in, he’s already panting, the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him making him weak. He takes a minute to get used to the feeling before starting to move. A few seconds pass & he starts moving, dragging his cock fully out before plunging back in.
Your breasts move beneath him with each gentle thrust, making him latch mouth onto one momentarily, greedy to have every part of you at once. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly with precision every second, you honestly felt like you could cum at any moment if you let yourself.
It doesn’t take much longer before he’s speeding up, the slick plaps of skin meeting skin starting to creep up the harder he goes. A sweet, foamy ring of white starts to form around the base of his cock with each thrust.
Michael would rather keep his eyes open to look at your pretty little face, yet he finds it very hard. His eyes are pressed shut, trying to hide from the sinful reality. His face dug into your neck as he mumbles gibberish to himself, completely pussy whipped.
“Feels—good Mikey, you feel so fucking good.” You say, your voice jumping from his searing thrusts.
You feel his tongue graze your neck as his mouth opens, attempting to respond but to no avail.
He continues snapping his hips into you, his pelvis hitting your clit perfectly every-time. Not one second goes by where you don’t feel pleasure, it’s trapping you.
You feel him swell larger inside of you, knowing he must be close. He lifts himself up, holding your hips to push himself into you impossibly deeper.
“Fuck! Right there!” You cry out, the head of his cock abusing your sweet spot even more than before.
“I feel it, It’s coming,” He pants, his eyes practically watering as they stare at you for support.
You reach down to try & grab him, forgetting you weren’t wearing any protection.
“You have to pull out baby, can’t come inside.”
There’s no sense of urgency in your voice, you were too consumed & wrapped up in the feeling he was giving you. Part of you didn’t even care, all you knew was now.
Michael’s thrusts start to become sloppy & erratic, his release only seconds away as his body begins to stiffen up, his thighs shaking.
The sudden change in his thrusts caused you to cum again suddenly. Your walls strangle him as you cry into your hand. The neighbours never entered your mind once.
The tightness of your unexpected orgasm catches him off guard, tipping him over the edge.
“Fuck, m’ sorry, I’m sorry—“
His hips snap into you one last time before he freezes, his warm seed spilling inside of you, painting your walls. His body falls limp as he flops down onto your chest, drawing out a long singular strangled moan into your cleavage, followed by little high pitch whimpers. The sensation of him filling you up makes you whine, definitely one of your guilty pleasures.
After a few minutes of breaths being caught, he lifts his hips, pulling his flaccid length out of you. His thick white release drips out instantly, pooling between your ass. You watch the colour drain out of his face as he stares between your legs. He reaches forward, rubbing the fluid between his fingers.
“How do you feel about being a daddy?"
a/n: can you guys tell i've been in heat this week?
— side note, this fic idea is not meant to take advantage of, or exploit michael’s personal beliefs/religion
