#rip sojournmichael

[taehyungsgrowl]

starting ahs:apocalypse from the beginning… real ones know 👊🏽

[littledemondani]

38 and 46 from the smut prompt list with Michael or Duncan if inspiration strikes! 😏

i chose f&r!michael for this one. hope you like it, beeb!​

//

Y/N knocked softly on Michael’s office door, waiting with bated breath for him to let her in. Her mind flashed to the first time she met Michael when he became the owner of Kineros Robotics. He was ridiculously handsome, and Y/N was attracted to him right away. She went out of her way to impress him, started dressing a little more provocatively around the office, and “accidentally” bumping into him on occasion. It wasn’t until he invited her into his office to hand her some documents to deliver, did she realize he was married.

There were pictures of him and his wife on their wedding day, surrounded by their friends and family on his desk, as well as candid photos of her. She felt a lump in her throat and a huge sense of embarrassment at her futile efforts to gain his attention. What she didn’t know was that she had gained it, and it took everything in him not to act on the thoughts going through his head.

Until he did.

Y/N’s thoughts dissipate once she hears Michael’s voice through the door. She turns the knob and enters, her heart doing somersaults as he comes into her view. He sits at his desk, hands spread on either side as he smirks wickedly at her. 

“Lock the door behind you.” 

She does as he says, standing in front of the doorway to await his next instruction. He stands slowly, eyeing her up and down like a predator watches his prey. She doesn’t dare take her eyes away from him, not wanting to upset him if she did. 

He stands before her, looking down at her with a soft groan. “As beautiful as you look, all I want to do is rip that dress off right now.” 

Her lips part slightly, letting a breathy gasp escape her. “What’re you waiting for, then?” she asks, gazing at him as she does so. “We both know we don’t have much time.”

Michael pushes her up against the door, wrapping his large, jeweled fingers around her throat enough to cut off her airflow. “Did I say you could talk?” He seethes. “Hm?”

“N-No,” she chokes, squeezing her legs together to dull her aching cunt. “Y-You...didn’t.” 

“That’s right, whore,” he says, letting go of her before slapping her across the face. He grabs her by her hair and tosses her against his desk, pinning her there by his hips. He rips her dress down the back, revealing the lacy pink lingerie she has on underneath. “Mm, at least you can do one thing right,” he says, rubbing his hand over the swell of her ass. “You know how much I love this on you.” 

Y/N’s dress falls down to her feet and she kicks the ruined fabric off to the side. She spreads her legs for him, moaning softly as he teases her pussy with his fingers. 

Michael plays with her clothed clit a while longer before moving her thong to the side and getting on his knees. He presses soft kisses along her lips and inner thighs, keeping his hand on her as a warning to be still. He finally runs his tongue over her clit, flicking it lightly. 

Her eyes roll back at the feel of his tongue on her cunt, the sensation causing chills to erupt along her skin. He continues to work her pussy until she cums hard, licking her through the aftershocks. He gets up from his knees, picking her up and placing her on his desk. He quickly undoes his pants, pulling his cock from its confines.

“Leave the heels on,” he says, shaking his head as he watches her trying to kick them off. “Can you do that?”

“Yes, daddy,” she nods, breath hitching as he rubs the tip of his cock along her glistening folds. He enters her with a loud groan, eyes fluttering at the feel of her tight walls pulsing around his cock. He opens his eyes, looking down to see the photo of him and his wife on the night of their honeymoon staring back at him.

“Good girl,” he says, using his magic to turn the photos around without her noticing. “You’re Daddy’s good girl.”

//

baby tags: @fckinsupreme, @with-dandelions-in-her-hands, @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern, @lovelylangdonx, @sojournmichael, @angelicmichael, @blakescoven, @dark-mei-rose, @michael-langdon-appreciation

[chloelucia13]

To Dream

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Prompt: After a case takes a turn for the worst, Spencer can’t help the doubt of your future riddling his brain. But when he closes his eyes, everything is okay. If only for a moment. Based off the song “Epiphany” by Taylor Swift

Warnings: angst, a little fluff, mentions of death, language, violence, gore, it’s just a ride y’all (italics are memories, words in bold are dreams)

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: So I’ve gotten sucked into the Criminal Minds fandom, and now it’s time to do what I do best: write sad fan fiction. I hope you all enjoy! My requests are open 24/7 and so is my taglist!

Tags: @sojournmichael​

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You’ve done this a million times. The case was so simple, so easy to dissect. 

Maybe you got cocky. Maybe you underestimated the unsub. Maybe this was all your fault.

Nausea churned in your stomach as you screeched to a halt in front of the old auto body shop. You knew that you would find a house of horrors as soon as you stepped inside, but the adrenaline in your veins told you to ignore your hesitation and the breakfast from this morning that was crawling up your esophagus.

“I’m going in,” you announced, unbuckling your seatbelt and nearly throwing yourself out of the car. 

“Y/N, wait, you need backup,” Spencer shouted after you as you hurried to the entrance.

You stopped in front of the building, turning to give him a look. “Spence, you heard his message.” 

This man, this murderer, seemed to be infatuated with the media coverage of the case. You caught on to the fact that he was following along closely with the case after he sent a haunting letter to the precinct, detailing where he was and that he would give himself up to the police, as long as his legacy would not be forgotten.

 Turns out, the media coverage wasn’t the only thing he was infatuated with. 

It was realized at the beginning of researching this case that you fit his type to a t, but you never expected that it would become this.

His other request? That you were the only one to capture him and take him into custody.

Spencer opened his mouth to argue but you cut him off. “If anyone goes in there but me, it’ll be a bloodbath,” you reminded him.

He gulped, weighing his options for a moment. “Fine. The rest of the team is on the way. As soon as you’ve got him, radio to me and we’ll send everyone in,” he instructed, worry marring his features.

“Everything’s gonna be fine. I promise, doc.” You gave him a gentle smile before turning on your heel and entering the building, your gun drawn.

The smell of coagulated blood and decomposition hit your nostrils the moment you stepped inside, making your stomach lurch. You bit down on your cheek so harshly the taste of copper tinged your tongue.

“Randy McAllister, this is the FBI,” you announced your presence, edging around the corner into the main part of the garage.

“Ah, Agent Y/L/N, I thought you’d never make it,” a voice hummed to the right of you.You turned your head to see him standing with a gun in his right hand, a woman on her knees in front of him.

“Let her go, Randy. She’s got nothing to do with this.”

He chuckled. “Oh darling, she has everything to do with this. She’s my replacement for you, can’t you tell?” He glided the tip of his gun against her forehead, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“Then give me her, and you can get what you want.”

“You really thought I was gonna be that easy?” He clicked his tongue. “Take off your vest.”

You scoffed. “I’m not taking off my vest.”

he clenched his jaw, hovering his finger over the trigger. “Take off your vest or I’ll blow her fucking brains out!”

You knew not to question him. He’d done it five times already, so what’s stopping him from doing it again.

You slowly slid your gun into your holster before ripping the velcro apart, pulling your kevlar vest off and setting it on the ground. “There, are you happy?”

He grinned, baring his teeth like a rabid dog, before pushing the girl forward. You bent down and helped her up before directing her to run, waiting until you could no longer hear her footsteps before you drew your gun once more.

“Alright, Randy. I did what you wanted. Now drop your weapon and put your hands above your head.”

His grin slowly fell, letting his gun clatter to the ground before he rose his hands in the air, surrendering. 

You stepped behind him, yanking his hands behind his back and holding them together with one hand while you searched for your cuffs with the other. 

Everything moved so suddenly. 

A sharp crack echoed through the garage as he slammed his head back into yours, shattering the cartilage in your nose. You stumbled back, clutching onto your nose as you tried to regain your balance. 

He grabbed you by your shirt and threw you to the ground, climbing on top of you and wrapping a hand around your throat. You clawed at his hand and kicked with all your might, finally landing one solid blow to his groin. 

He swayed, and you gathered enough strength to roll him over, pinning him to the ground. 

But you didn’t account for his hands.

As you held his shoulders against the concrete, a shot rang out.

Your abdomen felt warm as the rest of your body felt as if it was stuck in a freezer. Slowly, you rolled off of Randy and laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling.

Voices began to echo around you, a muffled sound that mimicked the effect of your head being held underwater. “Agent down, we need a medic!”

Your eyelids fluttered open and closed at a snail-like pace, eyes flickering around the room to try and figure out what was going on.

And then they shot open wide as the burning sensation began, a feeling as if your organs were being shredded apart with red hot knives.

“Y/N, what happened?” 

Your eyes finally focused on Spencer’s face hovering above you, tears in his eyes. “Tis just a flesh wound,” you whispered, your lungs burning.

He glanced between you and the bullet wound in your chest. “Are you quoting Monty Python right now?”

You let out a chuckle, feeling tears begin to sting your eyes. “It’s what I do when I’m panicking. You should know that by now.” Slowly, you reached your hand down to where you felt the pain resonate, eyes growing wide when you felt something wet soak your hand. “Oh my god.”

Tears began streaking down his face, his lip caught in-between his teeth to keep from crying out. 

Without thinking, you reached your hands up to wipe away his tears, a look of terror residing on your face when a dark crimson smeared across his cheeks. “Oh god,” you gasped out, moving to pull your sleeves over your hands and try to wipe away the blood. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” The blood smeared around his cheek, and you felt the room spinning around you. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just breathe for me. Calm down.”

You nodded, desperately trying to gasp in a solid breath, but to no avail. A sob left your lips, and you felt a rush of blood pour down your sides. “I-I can’t.” You shook your head. “I think... I think I’m bleeding out, doc.”

“No, no, don’t say that. You’re gonna be just fine.” He pulled away from your gaze for a moment to search around. “Where the fuck is the medic?!”

“Spence.”

His eyes fell back onto your face, hazel irises boring into yours as tears dripped down his face. You dedicated his face to memory, trying to remember the way his skin felt under your fingertips, the gentle scratch of his stubble, the way his hair would glide between your fingertips, worried that it you would never be able to experience it again.

“I love you,” you choked out, sniffling. “I love you so much.”

He nodded, a crease forming between his brows as he tried his hardest to contain his sobs. “I love you too. So much.”

He felt as if he died when he watched your eyelids slowly flutter closed, and then stopped moving altogether. He continued applying pressure to your wound, feeling your blood soak through his windbreaker and onto his hands.

Suddenly he was shoved away, and he watched in a daze as a group of medics quickly checked your vitals before lifting you on a stretcher and rushing you out of the building. He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled behind them, clambering into the back of the ambulance.

They attached an oxygen mask with a bag valve, attempting to pump oxygen into your lungs. He watched as your chest rose and fell, wishing it wasn’t being controlled by someone else.

The tips of your hair twirled between his fingers, a dazed look on his face as his eyes tracked each breath you took. Breathe in, gentle rise. Breathe out, gentle droop. He felt the soft rush of air against his skin, making his heart race under your cheek. 

He didn’t dare move, too worried that if he did, you would wake up. It was rare that he would see you in such a peaceful state, so fragile and unguarded. He wouldn’t dare ruin it. He never knew when it would be the last time he could witness it.

“Her vitals are crashing, she’s going into V FIB!” an EMT shouted, startling him back to the present. “Bring me the AED.” He watched as they applied two wired pads to your chest and turned up a dial, signaling before delivering an electric shock. Your body flinched from the shock, only for it to collapse back down and lay flat. 

He felt like he was going to vomit. His hands were clutching onto your free one, unable to tear his eyes away from your ashen face. 

He couldn’t decide if it would be better if you were in a black void, unaware of anything that was going on, or if you could feel and hear every single thing that was occurring. He mostly just hoped that you weren’t scared.

But the only thought on his mind, when they finally arrived to the ER and he watched you get rushed into the OR, was that he couldn’t live without you.

*** “Spence, you can head home. I’ll take over,” Emily instructed as she stepped into the waiting room, nudging his shoulder slightly.

He just shook his head, staring at the glass windows in front of him that peered into the hallways of the hospital. 

“You need to get some rest,” she persisted, sitting down next to him. “Just go lay down for a few hours, I’ll call you if anything happens.”

“I-I can’t just leave. If something happens...” Spencer mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. He couldn’t tell if he was being defensive, or if he was trying to desperately hold himself together. 

“She’s gonna be just fine. She’s a fighter.”

He let out a shuddering breath, his eyes falling closed for a moment. “The survival rate after going into V FIB is 50%.”

“Well, 50% seems like a pretty good probability to me.”

“That doesn’t account for the blood loss or oxygen deprivation. She lost over four pints of blood. The body goes into hypovolemic after losing only two pints. Any more than that, and the body will most likely fall into a coma.” 

Now he understood how everyone else felt when he spewed out facts. It was torturous, unwilling to allow him to slip away from the predicament for even a moment.

The image of your body bleeding out on the dirty floor was imprinted in his mind. Even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory, there was no way that he could ever forget it.

Emily pursed her lips. “But she’ll be alive. She might be banged up, but she isn’t gone. She’s not going anywhere anytime soon.” She squeezed his shoulder. “You know, if Y/N were here right now, she’d be yelling at you to go and take a nap.”

He let out a watery chuckle at that, sniffling slightly. “I can’t leave, Emily. Not until I hear something from the doctors.”

She sighed. “Fine. I’m gonna set a timer on my phone for 20 minutes, and you will sleep until that timer goes off. If you get up any time during that, I’m restarting the timer. Deal?”

“Emily-”

“Spencer, you know better than anybody the effects of sleep deprivation on a person. You’re not going to be any use here if you’re tired.”

He clenched his jaw, already feeling his eyelids begin to droop. “Fine. But only 20 minutes.”

***

He never thought that golden could be a feeling, until he met you. His whole being, his whole soul felt as if it was dripping with the warm yellow hue.

He may have felt golden, but you were golden. You were the sun to him, something that he treasured with his whole being but worried he would be blinded by your beauty, turned into mush from your warmth. He still risked it, staring at you for so long so he could memorize every aspect of you before his sight left him.

Your scent of sunshine and sweet morning dew lingered on everything he owned, and he was addicted to it. He could smell it now, swooning over it.

“Your hair’s getting shaggy, doc.”

Spencer hummed, fluttering his eyes open and seeing that his head was laying in your lap, the two of you perched underneath a tree in the park down the road from your shared apartment.

“Yeah? You want me to cut it?” he teased, shifting slightly to look up at you.

You grinned, ruffling his hair slightly before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “Never.”

His eyes flickered over your face, taking in every small detail. “You’re so beautiful.”

You scoffed, gently gliding your finger along his jawline. “I can say the same for you, pretty boy.”

“I’m serious.” He huffed, sitting up and taking your hand in his, staring directly into your eyes for a moment. He mimicked your ministrations, taking his finger and tracing along your collarbone, against the angle of your jawbone, down the slope of your nose, and down the dip of your cupid’s bow. His eyes followed his finger, a small wrinkle forming between his brows. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

A grin settled on your face, gently pulling his fingers from your skin and pressing your lips to his fingertips. “What’s got you being so sappy?”

He let out a chuckle, shaking his head slightly before touching his lips to yours. “I’m so in love with you.”

A pleased sigh escaped your lips, and your eyes searched his. “I’m so in love with you too. Now will you please tell me what’s going on?” You shifted into his lap, entwining your arms around his neck and playing with his hair.

“I...” He gulped, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“Spencer.” The corners of your lips crooked into a frown and you rested a hand on his cheek. “What makes you think I’ll ever leave you?”

“Y/N, you’re dying.”

“What do you mean? I’m right here. And I know you’re not a medical doctor, but I know you’re smart enough to know when someone is alive.”

He shook his head, sniffling. “No, you-you’re laying on an operating table right now. This isn’t real. None of this is real.”

“It’s real enough, isn’t it?” 

He shot up with a gasp, immediately burying his head in his hands and letting out a shuddering breath.

“Spence, that was only eleven min-” Emily began.

He ignored her, pushing himself to his feet and propelling himself towards the bathrooms. He stumbled into the bathroom and gripped onto the edge of the sink, sucking in deep breaths until his lungs burned. Bile rose in his throat and he willed himself to keep it down, gaining enough strength to turn on the cold water and splash his face. 

A hand touched his shoulder and he stood up straight in a panic. “Calm down, man, it’s just me,” Derek consoled, holding his hands up. “Are you okay?”

Spencer shook his head fervently, running his hands over his face before pulling them through his hair. “I can’t lose her.”

Derek reached forward, grabbing Spencer’s shoulder and tugging him into a tight hug. ‘’You’re not gonna lose her. She’s strong, and she’s stubborn as all hell. If she’s gonna die, it’s gonna be by her own terms.”

And Spencer sobbed.

***

It had been over four hours, and the entire team still had yet to hear anything from the doctors. The sun had already set, and almost everyone had headed home for the night.

But Spencer was still sat in the waiting room, eyelids drooping lower and lower with each passing moment of silence.

He wanted so badly to sleep, to go back to that peaceful moment in his mind where he could lay with you and forget anything bad ever happened, but he couldn’t let himself. He couldn’t let himself succumb to a fantasy when in reality, you were laying on an operating table with multiple surgeons working to keep you alive. 

“Mr. Reid?”

Spencer rose to his feet at once, all feelings of exhaustion fleeing his body and being replaced with pure adrenaline. “Yes?”

The doctor gave him a curt nod before directing him into the hall. Spencer followed behind him and stood in a nervous silence as he watched her flip through a clipboard.

“She’s alive, and she’s in stable condition,” she explained, looking away from her clipboard.

He felt as if he was floating, a high he never even imagined was possible. 

“But she is in a coma, and probably will remain that way for the next few days.”

And there it was.

“But-But you think she’ll wake up?” Spencer rushed out, shifting from foot to foot.

“Definitely. Her body needs time to rest, but she’ll wake up as soon as she’s ready.” 

Spencer let out a sigh of relief, a small smile residing on his lips. “Thank you, doctor.”

“You’re a lucky man. We almost lost her, but she fought with all she had. She wanted to stay here.”

He knew that her claims were impossible, but there was an inkling in the back of his mind that maybe she was right. So, instead of responding, he just nodded. “Can-” He cleared his throat. “Can I see her?”

The doctor pressed her lips together in thought for a moment before nodding. “Right this way.”

He followed her through the hospital halls, leading him through the winding maze until they stopped in front of room 112. She gestured to the door before retreating, leaving him alone.

All attempts to catch his breath were futile for the moment he stepped through the door, all the air left his lungs. He couldn’t tell if he was staring at your sleeping form in horror or fondness as he inched towards your bedside, settling into the chair next to you.

“You’re alive,” were the only words he could formulate, repeating them like a mantra while he took your hand in his and pressed feather-light kisses to your knuckles. 

 Finally, he let his head rest against the thin blanket on your bed, and his eyes drooped closed. 

Poppies were your favorite flower. They symbolized peace, something neither of you were familiar with due to your jobs.

Spencer never understood how a flower could symbolize something so complex until he opened his eyes.

He was completely, utterly at peace.

You stood in a field of bright red poppies, a white dress cascading around your frame and a megawatt smile on your face.

Sunshine. Golden.

As if out of a scene from a romance movie (one that you probably forced him to watch), he ran through the fields, coming towards you. Once you were within reach, he wrapped both of his arms around your waist and clung onto you like a vice.

A breathless laugh fell from your lips as you returned the hug, letting your arms hook around his neck. “Hi, my love,” you whispered.

He knew none of this was real. He knew that every memory of you was being pulled from his brain all at once and letting him feel a moment of peace.

But he also knew that he wanted to stay here, at least for a little while.

“Hi, my love,” he echoed, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Are you alright?” You pulled away slightly, searching his eyes as you brought one hand to cup his face. “You’re crying.”

“I’m just fine.” He gave you a smile, gently taking your hand from his face and placing your hand in his own. “I’m perfect.”

“Are you sure? Did I do-”

“Y/N,” he interrupted, squeezing your hand gently. “Everything’s fine. Don’t worry.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, letting your shoulders drop. “Sorry, I just... I know you’ve been feeling sad lately. I just want to make sure it isn’t because of me.”

His brows furrowed together, worry lines settling on his forehead. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Because every time you look at me, you cry.”

Those words made his heart drop to his stomach. He knew that this was all in his mind, but it was still your voice. He felt all the hurt, all the guilt. 

“I...” A small sob bubbled in his throat, and he pulled you back into his tight embrace. “I just don’t want to lose you. I’m not ready yet.”

You nodded, gripping onto the fabric of his shirt and holding him as close as you possibly could. “Well, right now, you have me. Is that not enough?”

“But it’s not real. I need the real you.”

“Then you have to wake up, my love.”

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up

“Spencer, wake up.”

His eyes flew open, a hand immediately coming up to rub at them. “What?” he grumbled, holding back a yawn.

“God, I’ve tried waking you up for the past five minutes.”

His eyes flickered up to see a pair of Y/E/C eyes staring back at him.

“You’re awake.”

“I can say the same thing about you, sleepyhead,” you teased, weakly patting his hand. 

“Oh my god. You’re okay.” He pushed himself to his feet and hovered his hands over your face, fearful that if he touched you, you would disappear.

“I’m okay, doc.” Your words were slurred, but that was expected. He still knew what you were saying, and even if he didn’t, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were awake, that you were alive.

He let out an incredulous laugh as he bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “I thought I lost you.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” You hands slowly reached up, letting your fingers graze along his cheek. “Hi, my love.”

“Hi, my love.” He grinned at you. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be awake for a few more days, at least.”

“I guess I just had to wake up. I couldn’t stand being gone from you that long.” You pulled your lower lip between your teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I-If I wasn’t so cocky, none of this would have happened. You all wouldn’t be wondering whether I’m gonna live or not. I wouldn’t be stuck in a hospital bed with a hole in my chest. You... You wouldn’t be crying.” You gestured to the tears on his cheeks as tears began to stream down your own. “I wouldn’t be crying.”

“Y/N,” he sighed, taking your hand in his and pressing his lips to the back of it. “None of this is your fault. Don’t you ever blame yourself for this.”

You nodded with a sniffle, pulling his hand to your lips and reciprocating his actions. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, letting yourselves take in everything that was happening.

“Once you get released from the hospital and you’re healed, do you want to get married?”

Your eyes widened in shock at his words, searching his face to make sure that he was being honest. “Are you proposing?”

He shrugged, feeling his cheeks begin to burn. “I-I mean I don’t have a ring yet but... I think I am.”

“Well, if you think you’re proposing, I think I’ll say yes.”

Both of your cheeks ached from how wide you were smiling, that smile never faltering when he pressed his lips to yours and let them linger. 

“Can we have poppies at our wedding?” you mumbled against his lips.

He chuckled, nodding.

Pure sunshine.

[7-wonders]

Duncan Shepherd NSFW Alphabet

You’re welcome.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s a perfect dom. So incredibly attentive to your needs, always gentle to clean you up and make sure that you’re comfortable and in a good headspace. He’s also the king of cuddling, and yes that IS canon.


B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Sexually, Duncan’s an ass man. Don’t ask me how I know this, or what my reasoning is, but he loves your ass. Grabbing it, kneading it, keeping his hand in your back pocket in public (insert Peter K pocket spinning gif). Your ass is perfect to him, and he’ll find it a challenge to rip his gaze away if you’re in front of him.

Non-sexually (but also sexually bc it’s Duncan), he loves your lips. Making them curl into a smile is one of his favorite things to do, and he’s enraptured when you’re talking. If you’re putting makeup on, he’ll sit and watch as you expertly apply your lipstick.

Duncan’s favorite body part of himself is his arms. There’s so much that he can do with his arms, and he’d be fooling himself if he didn’t like the way his veins looked popping out on his arms. He loves when you trace them, as well as when you hold onto his arm while out in public.


C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Come on, the man’s a breeding kink freak. He loves cumming inside of you. Period, full stop.


D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’d love to have a threesome with you and another man, he just doesn’t know who.


E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Duncan’s pretty experienced, thanks to a number of flings in college and being labeled one of Washington’s most eligible bachelors and playboys. He knows what he’s doing, and he can make sex with you kinky, fast and rough, or slow and sensual.


F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

I can’t find a good gif :( but it’d be where he’s taking you from behind (that way he can hit you in just the right spot), but your back is to his chest and he has his hand around your throat to hold you up.


G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Duncan’s pretty serious during sex, but he’s been known to crack a couple of jokes here and there. Typically, he leaves the humor to you.


H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

His hair down there is curlier, but he keeps himself trimmed well. It’s not an obsessive manscaping thing, but he likes to keep his entire appearance neat.


I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Prior to you, sex for Duncan used to just be another business deal. Both parties got gratification and pleasure from this experience, and then they went their separate ways afterwards. That’s why, when you and Duncan get together, sex is so romantic for him. He wants you to know just how dedicated he is to you, and that involves constant touching and kissing, both during sex and just in everyday life.


J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Only masturbates when he’s away on extended business trips. Even then, he’s so whipped for you that he literally cannot get off without either calling you or watching one of the many photos/videos he has on his phone.


K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding.

Breeding.

Breeding.

Breeding.

Also, he’s really into bondage. I read this really good Shibari fic that I need to find and reblog, but he goes absolutely crazy when he sees you in ropes.


L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere in his apartment. Seriously. The kitchen counters, the couch, the shower, the floor, the bedroom. If it’s a surface, you can bet Duncan’s gonna try and fuck you on it.

He’s also really into sex in his office, but you’ll only do that if there’s not a lot of people there or if it’s later in the evening.


M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Anything you do turns him on. If you wear one of his shirts, or dance and sing while you’re cleaning or doing otherwise menial tasks. Getting upset when somebody cuts you off in traffic, and how you look when you’re reading a book. It’s a miracle that Duncan isn’t constantly sporting a hard-on, really.


N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Definitely no dub-con, or anything that would cause you too much pain. Just the thought of taking a knife and cutting your skin makes him so upset; he doesn’t know how people can be into that.


O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

The man LOVES going down on you. He would eat you out for hours if given the chance, and his tongue is otherworldly. 


P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s a mixture of both, it just really depends on the time/event.


Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

As a very passionate man, sometimes it’s impossible to wait for the “right” moment. Therefore, quickies are pretty common in your relationship. Still, the opportunity to properly seduce and bed you is far preferable to a quickie.


R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Risk is a big part of your sexual relationship with Duncan! Lots of risks (especially with the potential of getting caught having sex), as well as always being down to experiment with most kinks either of you might be interested in.


S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

2-3 rounds, if you’re going back-to-back. With breaks, there’s no telling how long Duncan can fuck you for. All night, if he’s feeling especially dedicated.  


T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Going off of the bondage kink, he has a pretty sizable rope collection. You have a couple of vibrators for the times when Duncan’s on trips, but anything else makes Duncan feel like he can’t satisfy you himself. The audacity.


U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh my god he teases you SO MUCH. Especially at work events or functions. Sometimes he won’t let you wear panties under an evening dress, or he’ll send you dirty text after dirty text. Duncan will absolutely take every opportunity to tease you. 


V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Duncan’s pretty quiet. A few grunts and groans, but mainly he just whispers into your ear. 


W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

You made Duncan work for the chance to have sex with you. You had heard of his reputation before, and you were not about to be another on a list of one night stands. It wasn’t the first date, and it wasn’t even the second date. After you knew that he was actually serious about you, you gave him the cues that you were down to get down.


X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s about average, 5 or 6 inches. His strength lies in how thick he is. He may look like a slender guy, but our mans is packing.


Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

We’ve established that he has a super high sex drive for you. If the smallest thing you do gets him going, it’s going to be easy for him to go a couple of rounds and make sure that this was worth your while. 


Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Duncan usually doesn’t fall asleep very quickly. His mind is always moving from one task to the next and, while he’s more than happy to hold you until you fall asleep, there’s always work to be done.

//

idk I’m just tagging a couple of people @sojournmichael​ @ccodyfern​ @lvngdvns​ @langdonslove​ @moonanonwriting​ @xavierplympton​

[icyharrington]

Is It Wrong?- The Epilogue (Michael Langdon X Reader)

HELLO ALL!!! here is the long-awaited epilogue to finally finish the is it wrong series. i sincerely hope y’all enjoy this, and i am SO sorry for taking forever to write this!! i had some kind of mental block stopping me, but i finally forced myself to sit down and JUST DO IT. i wanna thank every last one of you who’ve supported this series of filth, especially the ones who’ve been here since the beginning. when i published that first chapter, i never realized just how much joy this fucked up little story would bring into my life. y’all are the best. 

plot: it’s been 5 years since your whirlwind fuckfest-turned-romance with your stepbrother, michael langdon, came to its angst-filled end. life is good, but there’s just one thing missing.

warnings: fuckboy michael, fem!Reader, post-high school au, fluff, some angst, cursing/talk of sexual shit/yanno the deal lmao. no smut..... IM SORRY LOL IT JUST DIDN’T FIT INTO WHAT I HAD PLANNED!!! but i hope y’all still like it regardless lmao

word count: 4k

tag list*: @alicecooper19 @wroteclassicaly @ritualmichael @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @trelaney @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @kissydevil @sloppy-wrist @michael-langdon-appreciation @ccodyfern @sojournmichael @starwlkers @theinevitableprophecy @divinelangdon @maso-xchrist @space-princesssss @ahslangdon101 @isabellaserpentiawesson @stupidocupido @bademliimagnum @nana15774 @urlocalgothb @hexqueensupreme @gold-dragon-slayer @pr1ncessd1e @langdonsboots @langdonstrash @isoldedax @fckinsupreme @hisgirlwonder @venusxxlangdon @obsessivenostalgicbaby @noelle525 @kleinegamerin @lambofcairo @kiiteiru @littledemondani @beriveri @dcvilrising @grossgayartist @featherpool-852 @discocalico @cryptid-coalition @nu-tt @diamcndscarred @chocolateandhorror @michaelsfrenchtoast @ms-mead @sarcasticbxtch20 @ringpop-poppy @coollangdon @s7venwonders @imjustasadhoe @melodylangdon @bahsasblog @codycrazy @sojournmichael @perfect-ginger-maniac @baphomet-wears-gucci @bigstudentpatrolbonk @langdonsgothgf @jazzcowgirl @a-n-t-s @blind-daydream @langdonsblood @ritualmichael @myluciferiscody @fentycoven @gracebtw @bongwaternation @fckinsupreme @thewalkingtrenchcoats @king-of-mischief-and-bitchez @hoseokchild @witchywcmans @satanicbimbo @mallorys-winter @langdonskillerqueen @anantarora @aradevil @anemia-doll @muralskins @funtomimagines @mrssgtjamesbuckybarnes @our-mrlangdon @lotsofhunny @sevenwonderwitch @horrorstreet @kpopmademedo-it @naughtygranger @codyshands @krazycags01 @skullag

*if you asked to be tagged but aren’t on my tag list, i apologize!!! some blogs just can’t be tagged for some reason :(

You looked out the window and onto the rain-slick city streets, captivated by the way the rows of glowing neon signs reflected in the puddles, and you smiled.

Everything was as it should be.

Sandwiched between your two best friends in the back of the Uber, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride at the thought that you’d made it. You’d graduated college, managed to land your dream job, and, most recently, you’d finally been able to get yourself a spacious apartment in the city you loved most. It was the first time in your life that you’d ever felt truly in control of things.

Tonight was a celebration of those accomplishments; you and your friends had arranged to go to the bars by your new apartment that night and get shitfaced like you were college freshmen again, just enjoying each other’s company. You could already feel the warmth of the shots of Fireball you’d pregamed with earlier that night, cheeks flushed and rosy. Life was good.

The Uber screeched to a halt in front of the bar, your friends’ resulting drunken squeals drowning out the rap song that drifted loudly through the speakers. You grinned, waving a quick goodbye to the bored-looking driver before dispensing onto the street with your group, one by one.

Through the glass windows, you saw a lively scene; it seemed as though you’d chosen the perfect night to go out. The bar was dim, lit with overhead lights that shifted from color to color, a band stationed at the stage in full action. People danced, drank, sang; you could see couples making out sloppily in booths. This was going to be a fun night.

Outside the bar stood two skinny boys, dressed casually in ripped jeans and band t-shirts, who you were nearly certain were underage. They chatted as they smoked cigarettes, seemingly unfazed by the chilly breeze and light drizzle coming down over their mops of overgrown hair. One of them, the lighter-haired one of the pair, almost reminded you of…

“Hey ladies,” said one, blowing cigarette smoke from the corner of his mouth with a smirk. You could feel his alcohol-glossed eyes travel up and down your body, drinking in your fishnet-clad legs and prominent curves, accentuated in a maroon leather miniskirt. “You trying to have some fun?”

At this, you and your friends erupted into giggles, long fingernails gripping at each other’s forearms as you fought to balance yourselves.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” your friend said, resulting in a fresh wave of laughter.

Ignoring the boys’ scowls, you continued inside, sighing in relief at the warmth, which was only reinstated by the slew of sweaty bodies flowing throughout the building. The music was loud- perhaps not the most accurate in terms of pitch, but it was certainly good enough to dance to, and, luckily, you were in a dancing mood.

“You shoulda gave them your number,” your friend joked as you made your way to the bar, her voice raised so you could hear her above the noise. “When’s the last time you’ve gotten laid?”

You rolled your eyes. Ever since you’d broken up with your ex a year before, your friends had been nagging you to engage in causal hookups to help you get over him- they’d tried setting you up with any single man they could get their hands on, and had even gone as far as creating a Tinder page in your name. In all honesty, you had no interest in men at the moment; you were far more focused on your career, which was your top priority for now. Sure, you got horny sometimes, but wasn’t that what vibrators were made for? You were twenty-two. You had your whole life ahead of you to find some good dick.

Besides, most men you’d been with in the past could hardly satisfy you, so it seemed almost better to do things on your own. The only man you’d ever actually enjoyed being with was…

You flinched, pained by your second reminder of a certain blond-haired fuckboy that night. Even now, nearly five years since the last time you’d seen him, it hurt to think of his name.

“Three Sex on the Beaches, please,” your friend said to the bartender, before turning back to look at you. “Sounds like something you’re in need of.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, drumming your fingers on the wooden surface as you turned to watch the band, which seemed to be some kind of punk-pop-rock hybrid, the members decked in leather and chains.

“You know I’m right,” your friend shouted, running her manicured fingernails through her hair as she craned her neck to look at the bartender over her shoulder. “Hey, the bartender’s pretty cute. And he even kind of seems like your type.”

You glanced back disinterestedly, hardly breaking your attention from the band to look at the man in question. Right now his back was to you, and he appeared to be talking to some drunk girls as he fixed your drinks; his blond hair was slightly outgrown, fraying out in unkempt curls at the base of his neck, toned bicep flexing under the thin shield of his form-fitting white t-shirt as he reached for a bottle of peach schnapps.

From what you could see, he did seem like your type- almost too much so, it almost starting to creep you out how similar this guy looked to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You looked away.

“Oh yeah, he is cute,” your other friend said, leaning her elbows back on the bar. “(Y/n), you should pull some moves on him.”

You groaned. “Why are you guys so obsessed with getting me fucked?”

“Because, (y/n). You’re gonna get cobwebs down there if you don’t get your shit clapped soon. Eventually you’re just gonna forget how to fuck altogether,” your friend said, her voice earnest.

“Yeah,” agreed your other friend. “Your vag is gonna close up like a pierced ear when you forget to put in earrings for too long.”

“Three sex on the beaches?” came an amused-sounding voice from behind you, and within the first few syllables of the man’s sentence, you could feel your throat start to close up. You knew that voice anywhere, raspy and rich and warm, even five years since you’d last heard it. But… how? Michael was in California. It had to be some kind of doppleganger working behind the bar. But damn, that was uncanny…

You were almost afraid to turn around, doing so reluctantly, too nervous to care about the fact that you were gnawing all your vampy lipstick off your bottom lip.

“Yeah, that’s ours,” said your friend brightly, accepting her glass, and you decided to rip the band-aid off, forcing your body to turn all the way around.

“So you ladies like sex on the be- (Y/N)?”

Holy ever loving mother of christ. It was him. It was actually. Fucking. Him.

There behind the bar, with plump lips agape and saucer-wide baby-blue eyes, was Michael Langdon, looking almost exactly the same as you remembered. Now, though, most of the baby fat had gone from his face, with one silver earring dangling from his left ear and stubble shadowing his even-more-defined (if that was even possible) jawline. Your mouth went dry, opening and closing as you racked your brain for something to say, heart racing so quickly in your chest you thought you might drop dead at any moment.

“You guys know each other?” your friend asked after several seconds of silence, stretching past you to exchange a glance with your other friend, an immaculately-drawn eyebrow poised in concern.

“Uh- yeah. We, um. Michael, why are you here?” The words didn’t come out exactly the way you’d planned for them to, but his presence had you tongue-tied. In a matter of seconds, you felt like you were eighteen again, broken-hearted and in love and overflowing with red-hot hormones all at once.

“I- (y/n), why are you here?” You could tell that Michael’s lips were beginning to creep into a smirk, and your stomach dipped.

“I just moved to the city,” you said, gripping the edge of the bar and breathing slowly to try and calm yourself. You’d fantasized about finding yourself in this very situation so many sleepless nights before (not that you’d ever admit it), but never had you really expected for something like this to happen. This had to be some sort of profound universe-aligning moment of fate or something, because this was all way too fucking weird to be a coincidence. “I got a job near here. I thought you were in California?”

Michael shook his head with a shrug, sliding your drink across the bar towards you as your friends watched on with quiet fascination. “Haven’t lived there since- damn, has it been three years now? Yeah, I kind of dropped out of college.”

Not really surprising, you thought, relaxing a bit as you lifted your drink to your lips. Michael never had really struck you as a college type.

“So how’d you end up here?” you asked through a wince. The taste of vodka was strong on your tongue even despite the compensating ingredients of your drink, and you still hadn’t managed to get used to the taste of hard liquor even after four years of college.

“Well, I ended up meeting this girl at a party and we became like, boyfriend and girlfriend or whatever,” he said with a half eye-roll, as if he was too cool to admit to something as sensitive as being in a relationship. “But she was in college and I was like, in a band, which didn’t really end up working out, and then she graduated and got a job offer here in the city.”

You licked your lips, picturing Michael as the front man of a rock band, pushing sweaty strands of blond hair back from his forehead as he gripped a microphone with one calloused hand. If only he’d had the talent to match with the look.

“So I was still living with my mom and I needed an excuse to move out, so… I moved with her.” He gave a nonchalant shrug, shirt pulling up slightly at the hem and exposing a sliver of his smooth, firm torso; you were almost ashamed that your mouth began to water.

You tried to ignore the inkling of- jealousy, was it? No, not jealousy, that word was far too harsh for what you were feeling- surrounding the idea that Michael had moved here for a girl, and you went to wash it away with another sip of alcohol. It’d been years. You needed to get over yourself.

“So you live with her now?” you asked coolly, or as coolly as you could manage, looking down into the muddy-organgey abyss of your Sex on the Beach. Your friends, having apparently picked up on the fact that you were in the middle of a very important conversation with a very important person, had taken it upon themselves to join the small crowd surrounding the stage, leaving the two of you alone.

“Fuck no. She ended up fucking my best friend. But I already had this job and I liked the scenery so I stuck around. Wasn’t like there was anything better waiting for me in California.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Now you know how I felt when you fucked (b/f/n).”

“Oh come on, give me a break. I was eighteen. And she had great tits.” He was leaning forward on his elbow now, resting his chin in the palm of his hand and grinning at you. “Admit it. You were just mad ‘cause you wanted to be the one to get the pipe.”

You snorted, trying not to think too deep into the warm, fuzzy feeling that was starting to flourish in the pit of your stomach and travel up towards your fluttering heart. “Oh, please. I used to fucking hate you.”

“Yeah, but you definitely didn’t hate fucking me,” he said with a wink, pink tongue darting out to wet his full bottom lip. “Though I definitely don’t blame you. I was a huge fuckboy.”

“Was?” you joked, taking another sip. Your eyes fell to a small tattoo on his inner forearm- a simple four-leafed clover, which you secretly thought looked sexy on him.

“Still got that smart mouth, I see,” Michael said, pale eyes glinting with a familiar mischievousness that you hadn’t realized you’d missed until right then. “There must be a lucky guy on the receiving end of all that attitude.”

“Nope,” you said flatly, flipping your hair over your shoulder and leaning forward, perhaps subconsciously hoping for your cleavage to become a bit more pronounced. “Men bore me these days.”

“Men? Or just all men who aren’t me?” He flashed you a devious sideways grin, and your mouth fell open at his boldness. “You’re looking pretty good tonight, baby sis.”

“Hmm. I don’t think that title is quite accurate anymore,” you retorted, hoping he couldn’t tell how flustered his usage of the old pet name had gotten you- apparently he still had that particular talent intact. “But you don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He glanced down at his shirt, which you only just now noticed was stained with some kind of brown liquor. “Not exactly the kind of thing you’d want to be wearing when running into your first love.”

Your heart stirred in your chest, and you could see Michael’s cool smile fade into a panicked wince. First love. You were Michael’s first love.

“First love, huh?” you said softly, tilting your head to one side to regard all of Michael’s handsome features at once. There’d always been some semblance of hope, deep in your belly, that Michael’s feelings for you all those years ago had surpassed simple lust and teenage hormones, but you’d of course had your doubts.

“Well, I mean. Not love, but like. You know.” Michael lifted one hand to scratch the back of his neck, and you could almost swear you saw a dusting of pink cross his porcelain cheeks. “Actually, I mean, yeah. You kind of were my first love. Kinda fucked up that my first love was my stepsister, but…”

“Well, you were my first love too. Unfortunately. You put me through hell, you know that?” You were only half-joking, idly twirling a strand of (h/c) hair around your finger, shifting your weight onto one leg to jut out your hip.

“God, yeah. I know. I suck.” He shook his head, loose waves falling to obscure his hooded eyes, and quickly he tucked it back behind his ears. “I really am sorry, you know.”

You shrugged. “We were just stupid, horny teenagers. It’s all good.”

“Yeah, I mean, but I never really stopped feeling guilty about the way I treated you. You gave me so many chances that I never deserved,” he said, leaning in close so he didn’t have to scream for you to hear him. “You were the perfect girl for me and I took you for granted.”

“Well, like I said…” you paused to take a swig of your drink, nursing your light intoxication, which had affected you to the point where the flavor of alcohol no longer made you cringe. “We were stupid teenagers. And I was very stupid to keep taking you back. Especially after that god awful Applebee’s date.”

He laughed, and your insides warmed at the sound, a light giggle that you only ever reserved for crushes unintentionally passing your lips. Why did this all feel so right?

“Look, I was broke, okay?” He moved in a little closer, crystal blue eyes locked with yours, and for a fleeting moment you thought- or, rather, hoped- that maybe he’d kiss you. Of course, you knew that such a prospect was only wishful thinking, but still you felt a sting of disappointment when he didn’t.  “But I can promise you that if I took you out now, it wouldn’t be to Applebee’s.”

You took a second to respond, your clouded mind trying to figure whether or not that’d just been a proposition of sorts. Fuck it. “You might just have to prove that to me.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiled, this time a little softer than his usual devilish smirk. “A girl like you really wants some loser bartender to take her out?”

You cocked your head. “A girl like me?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, look at you.” He sighed, dragging his gaze up and down your body, which you had to admit looked pretty bangin’ in the outfit you’d chosen for tonight. “I mean, it goes without saying that you’re a fuckin’ ten. But you’re also smart. And successful.”

“How do you know I’m successful?” There was a tiny part of you that was eating this up, having the once-big-and-bad Michael Langdon practically crawl at your feet. “I never even told you what I do for a living.”

“I just assumed, since you said you just moved here, and we both know this city ain’t cheap. But I always knew you’d be successful. I mean, you’ve always known how to go after what you want.” he said. “Plus that outfit looks expensive as hell.”

At this, you struck a dramatic pose, having drank enough that you didn’t really care about making yourself look stupid. “Well, I wouldn’t say it was expensive as hell, but it definitely was worth a few paychecks.”

Michael clicked his tongue but chuckled, a longing expression apparent on his sculpted face. “You’re out of my league.”

You scoffed, slurping up the last of your drink. “I don’t believe in leagues. I mean, I pulled you when we were in high school, didn’t I?”

“You were out of my league then, too.”

“Oh, please.” Such a statement was enough to make you laugh out loud, perhaps a bit too loudly, but you thought that might’ve been propelled by the fact that you were pretty damn drunk now. You shoved the now-empty glass towards Michael, settling your hands on your hips. “You were like, the hottest guy in school.”

He raised a brow, a cocky half-smile stretching across his lips. “Oh yeah?”

You hiccuped (you always had been a lightweight). “Duh.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, picking up your glass and bringing it off to the side to be cleaned. When he returned, he was brandishing a bottle of Windex and a stained washcloth, which was draped effortlessly over one broad shoulder. For a reason that could not, for the life of you, be explained, this view of Michael compelled you to squeeze your thighs together.

“You know,” said Michael slowly, spraying the wooden surface of the bar with chemical blue, “it’s kind of creeping me out how weird this all is. Like, us both ending up here. After five years.”

“I know, right?” Your eyes fell onto Michael’s veined hand, gripping the cloth that was now being used to rub down the bar, and you fought back the sudden urge to run your fingers over it. “I mean, it’s like, everything is aligning so perfectly. It has to mean something, doesn’t it?”

“Didn’t we say that to each other? That night on the beach right before our parents split? That if things were meant to work out, they would one day.” He sucked his lips into his mouth, taking in a sharp inhale and letting his head fall back towards the ceiling.

“It’s like everything’s finally fallen into place.” You breathed, allowing the amalgamated scent of liquor and cigarettes and cleaning chemicals to consume you, hips swaying back and forth to the mellow cover song the band was playing, imperfect but beautiful. “We’d be stupid not to try things again.”

“We would, wouldn’t we?” Michael said, tossing the rag off to the side once he’d finished his cleaning, the surface of the bar now so shiny you could practically see your reflection in it. “I promise this time, if you really want to give me a second chance, I won’t fuck things up. I’ll treat you how you should’ve always been treated.”

There was something about the look in his eyes that made you believe him.

From the crowd by the stage came a chorus of voices, most off-key, as they began to sing along to the band’s cover song, which you were certain you’d heard before, but couldn’t quite place when.

And all that is now

“Hey, I love this song,” Michael said suddenly, as if it hadn’t just been playing for the last several minutes, “fuck, this brings me back to high school.”

You wondered if he still chewed cinnamon gum, remembering the sweet spicy scent of his hot breath on your throat, late at night in the back of his cluttered sports car, the dashboard lights illuminating your half-dressed bodies. You wondered if he still played video games with those ridiculous oversize headphones, if he still liked to take midday naps, if he still fell asleep to South Park reruns.

Most of all, though, you wondered about the things you’d never witnessed, all the things you’d missed over the past five years.

And all that is gone

“Do you still chew cinnamon gum?” you asked abruptly, too drunk to worry about whether or not such a question was weird to ask.

He wiggled his eyebrows, reaching into the back pocket of his torn black skinny jeans (god, he’d always looked so good in those) to retrieve a crushed pack of gum, CINNAMON printed in red lettering across the front.

“Hell yeah,” he said, pulling out a piece and tossing it to you. “That shit beats mint by far.”

You unwrapped the gum and popped it in your mouth, immediately flooded with memories the moment you began working into it with your back teeth.

And all that’s to come

He reached out to flip the foil wrapper over, smoothing out its creases before grabbing a black pen from next to the register. You watched through your dreamlike haze as he jotted down a series of numbers in crooked, loopy handwriting, his tongue poking from the corner of his mouth in concentration. Underneath the phone number he wrote something else, in bold capitals, turning the paper around and sliding it towards you with a wry grin.

666-425-0493

LET’S TRY THIS AGAIN

You took the paper, folding it up and shoving it deep into your skirt pocket, inadvertently sinking your teeth into your lower lip. “Maybe I’ll call you sometime, big bro.”

For a fraction of a second, he landed a glance on your chest, lips twitching upwards just slightly at the corners. “Oh, I’ll be posted up until you do.”

“How about another Sex on the Beach?” you said, even though you were drunk enough on Michael’s presence as it was; it felt like you were floating in the blackness of outer space all while rolling with the soft, turning waves of the ocean, and you couldn’t help but want to feel this way forever.

And everything under the sun is in tune

“Coming right up, ma’am,” came Michael’s teasing reply, making you squirm; your eyes fell shut as you allowed the band’s blaring drum and bass to swallow you whole, swaying aimlessly to the rhythm, your head lolling back and forth.

The music was loud enough to drown out your thoughts, and the sound only increased as the song came to its powerful end, your teeth chattering with adrenaline as an electric chill made its way up your spine.

But the sun is eclipsed by the moon

When you opened your eyes, Michael was back in front of you, and all but the colorful overhead lights had dimmed; the entire bar was potent with color, Michael’s angular features appearing so much softer now, cast with bright purple, then blue, then a shade of pink so vivid it looked almost otherworldly.

Your eyes connected with his for what must’ve been the thousandth time in all the months you’d known him, but you felt, deep in your bones, that this was really only the first.

You had a good feeling about this.

[sojovrn]

desk // ds

summary: duncan's a bigshot ceo and you visit him in his office because your horny

warnings: smut, degrading, hair pulling, dirty talk, daddy kink, dom!duncan, sub!reader

word count: 624

pairing: ceo!duncan shepherd x fem!reader

a/n: this is really bad bc i wrote this awhile ago and it was on my other tumblr but i don't write for that guy anymore so im making it into a duncan smut.

you walked through the doors of duncan's office and made sure to close the door behind when you walked in. he looked up from his laptop and smiled at you whilst shutting it as you made your way around his desk and sat on his lap.

"hey love. what brings you here?" he asked and placed his hands on your thighs and took in a minute to take in your appearance.

you dropped your head into the crook of his neck and took in the smell of the cologne he was wearing, "want your cock, daddy." you mumbled but you knew he heard loud and clear.

"i have a meeting in ten minutes." he groaned when you started to grind your hips on his growing bulge.

"we can be quick, daddy." you whispered and bit into the flesh of his neck.

you squealed as he jumped out of his chair and immediately bent you over the edge of his desk. you bit my lip as you heard him fumbling with his belt. when he finally got his pants and boxers down enough to pull his cock he pulled your tight pencil skirt up and pulling your panties to the side and immediately slammed himself inside you.

a scream ripped through your throat and he brutally started slamming his hips into yours, giving you no time to adjust to his size.

"yeah you like that, bitch. you like when i fuck you like whore, hm?" he said through gritted teeth.

you opened your mouth to answer him but all that came out were a string of moans. he tugs on your hair harder when you didn't answer him, "fucking answer me."

"yes, daddy! fu-uck i love it!"

he angled his hips to hit your g-spot and his hand not in your hair came down on your ass. you very soon relied on duncan and the desk underneath you to keep you up when you felt your legs wobble and knees buckle underneath you.

you groaned when he pushed your face into the wood of his desk. "such a tight little pussy, baby."

you furrowed my eyebrows and your jaw dropped, "fuck harder, please."

"beg for it." he said and he stilled his movements causing me to groan. "fuck, daddy please. want your cock to tear my pussy up. daddy, please."

i guess duncan decided to end your suffering and went back to the merciless pace. your moans, his groans and the sound of your skin slapping quickly filled the space of his office.

your walls clenched around him and you heard him groan behind you, moving his hips impossibly faster.

"you gonna cum? gonna cum for me." he asked before his hand came down on your ass once more.

"yes, fuck! m'gonna cum, daddy." you screamed.

"go on, baby. cum all over my cock."

you came around his cock immediately, him following soon after.

he stilled his hips for a moment before slowly pulling out and watching his cum run down your thighs that he loved oh so much.

everything was quiet for a moment until you jumped at the sound of the phone ringing.

he picked it up, "mr. shepherd, the men from apple are here for the meeting." his secretary said.

"okay send them up." he said and you stood up and pulled your skirt back down and got ready to leave before he pulled his pants up slightly and pulled you onto his lap.

you went to question him when he stopped you.

he pushed his cock back into you and you gasped.

"don't make a sound."

@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sojournmichael

[langdvnshepherd]

I’m so soft for dad Duncan. I want him to look over early in the morning before work and see his wife with his baby bub asleep on her chest, they both just passed tf out after their last feeding, he’s so soft and loves them both so much, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen I’m gonna fucking scream right here in my office ARE. YOU. KIDDING. ME.

YOU TRYNA MAKE ME 🤧 ON THIS TUESDAY AFTERNOON

Duncan, while used to getting little to no sleep at all these days, still hasn’t gotten back into the full swing of working again. He’s not going back to full time just yet, only popping in sparsely throughout the week to catch up on everything he’d missed since his baby had been born.

He almost sleeps through his alarm, having been so used to drowning out the shrill cries that ripped through his newborn’s chest when they inevitably woke up several times throughout the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy every single second of being a new father to the most precious human being he’d ever seen, just that sleep deprivation is an insidious monster that affects everyone in the worst ways. Thankfully, Duncan does hear his alarm and clicks the snooze button before it manages to wake up his wife and baby beside him.

Before stretching his limbs and sulking off to his grand master bathroom to shower and get ready for his brief stint at the office, he turns to look at his family one last time. He still can’t wrap his head around that phrase. His family. Something of his own, one that was made with nothing but love and admiration for one another. Something he never dreamt possible. Something he was still not quite sure he deserved.

His bub lay flush against her chest, puffy cheeks squished against her and tiny lips falling naturally into a tiny ‘o’. They must have both fallen asleep before she could put them back in their bassinet, as he noted the baby’s fingers ghosted along his wife’s bare breast and her tank top remained pushed down as she always did when nursing.

Duncan swears up and down that he could never in a million years get tired of staring at the two of them. Every obstacle, every heartbreak, every uphill battle he had to climb his entire life had proved worth it, as he knows for a fact that nothing else in the world could make him happier, make his heart swell and soar and blossom in ways that he never thought possible.

He suddenly realizes the logistics of the scene in front of him, and how uncomfortable his wife must be. Her back is curled into the headboard as if she had started out sitting up, but slowly inched her way down into a half-sitting, half-laying position as she slept. Her undone tank top strap is cutting into her shoulder, undoubtedly working up a knot of tension in both her bicep and her neck. The baby on the other hand, slept safe and sound, held stable by their mother’s other arm that had been conditioned to always keep one hand on them at all times.

With the gentlest of movements, Duncan hovers over his sleeping family and carefully slips his wife’s tank top strap back up her shoulder and makes sure “the goods” were secured. Duncan had jokingly referred to her breasts as that one quiet afternoon after they first brought their bub home from the hospital.

-

She had only stepped away for a quick shower to rid herself of the putrid smell of newborn spit-up and to refresh herself after being up late into the night with their baby. When she returned, their bub was crying their little lungs out, the sound echoing in the spacious living room of hers and Duncan’s home.

“Shhh,” she cooed them, knowing good and well that it was feeding time and their cries were a result of an empty tummy.

“I’ve got you, baby.”

Duncan chuckled as the baby’s cries ceased almost instantly after being placed in their mother’s arms, having quickly learned that being in mama’s grasp meant the milk they craved was not out of reach.

“You don’t like me very much, do you, little one?” Duncan teased to his infant as he leaned in close to his wife and began running his thumb along the tiny plane of their foot.

“Stop, Dunc. You know that’s not true,” his wife scolded him with a darting glance.

“I’m kidding. It’s only because I don’t have the goods.”

-

She stirs awake at the foreign sensation, though she relaxes her tense frame when her eyes meet a familiar pair of crystal blue’s.

“Sorry, love. Just trying to make you two comfortable,” Duncan reassures her with a whisper and a soft rub of her ribs just underneath her breasts, quiet enough to not stir the sleeping baby.

“You going to work?” She asks with a groggy, exhausted voice.

“For a little bit, yeah. I’ll be back early this afternoon.”

She nods in affirmation, but quickly begins to doze off once more. Her eyelids had felt unbearably heavy the past several months and she honestly didn’t know the last time she hadn’t felt the need to crawl into bed and sleep for one week solid.

Duncan stirs her from sleep once more, pulling her from the brink of consciousness to ask her one last question.

“Do you want me to move the baby so you can lay down?”

He’s not sure if the way she burrows deeper into her pillow is a nod telling him ‘yes,’ or if she even heard him at all, but he does it anyway. The baby releases soft grunts that come from deep in their belly and eyebrows furrow in discomfort as they’re lifted from her chest, but they quickly simmer down when they realize their papa now has them in his arms. Careful as to not shake them too much, Duncan gives them a loving, barely-there squeeze and kiss on the soft skin of their forehead before lying them down next to his wife on the baby pillow he purchased specifically so he could sleep in bed next to his two loves.

No more noise is heard from the duo beside Duncan, so he takes that as his cue to slip out of bed and into the bathroom. Just before he shuts the door behind him to start his dreadful day away from his babies, he hears her voice pierce the silence of the room.

“Love you, Dunc,” her voice trails off into the pillow, thick with sleep and almost incomprehendable.

But Duncan knew what she meant.

“Love you too, angel,” he whispers back to her.

“More than you could ever know,” he thinks to himself.

//

Gonna do a bb tag since this ended up being long for NO reason lmao

@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @lvngdvns @sojournmichael @divinelangdon

[hecohansen31]

The Tomboy & The Model:

 Model! Michael Langdon+Tomboyish! Reader

(A/N): Hello lovelies!

I am back with a new Michael’s idea I hope you’ll like! 

I honestly firstly discussed this idea with @sojournmichael so big shoutout to her, and to my group of friends her for making me actually publish and write this fic, since I ended up having a bit or... PROBLEMS with it...

I am actually very out of the fashion industry so, exactly as with the cam-world, if you see some things which aren’t quite right, please let me know and I’ll do my best to actually correct them.

Also I tried to keep the reader being a tomboy a bit behind, so that anybody can try to see themselves in her, without having to stop anybody from feeling a bit like the Reader, so I hope you won’t hate me too much for that-

With this being said... I really hope you’ll like it, and please if you do end up enjoying, leave an heart, reblog he fic (if possible writing something... I am always the most anxious about hearing what you thought of my writing) or shot me an ask or a DM.

If you didn’t like it, please let me know, kindly, what didn’t work so that I could make it work better in the future!

Much love!

Hope you’ll enjoy this!

SUMMARY: You and shy model Michael could be the most different people in the world, but somehow you end up working quite well together.

WORDS: 9 K

WARNINGS: Sub! Michael, Dom! Reader (also brief mention of Dom! Michael and Sub! Reader), Spanking, Oral Sex (Male and Female Receiving), Orgasm Denial, A Bit Of Dirty Talk, Use of the F-word, and Drunken Assault.

She had been always the type to prefer more masculine things: it wasn’t anything strange for her to run with the boys and play with them and slowly she had started taking over some of their mannerism.

It had been always her true nature to be much more masculine “than women were supposed to be”, according to her mother.

Her mother had been extremely disappointed by the fact that she hadn’t wanted to own a more feminine body and although she had made some concessions towards her style, she mostly went by her own way, which meant jeans, mostly large and graphic shirts for the summer and sweaters for the winter.

She enjoyed the gym and wasn’t afraid to assume a more manly role, such as paying for the bill or being the one who did the first move, which got her in so much trouble and rejections that she sometimes thought about giving up that nature just to get a bit of affection.

It hurt her to think about a future alone, although she had friends who loved and a family who supported her, but when everybody was so crazy about love, she couldn’t help but feel annoyed by her lack of.

She was a big romantic, underneath the harsh armor she wore.

And she was also a complainer, according to her roommate Mallory, who had set her up with a boy that Wednesday, insisting it would have been a fun idea.

“You basically set me up with a stranger” she had mumbled, meanwhile her roommate, a professional make-up artist, put eyeshadow on her lids after she had squeezed her in a nice outfit, still jeans but it was paired with a silky black blouse, giving her a vampire aesthetic she dug, enhanced by Mallory expert work with brushes and beauty blenders “I have watched too many “Law and Order SVU” episodes to believe that this will end well”.

“Shut up, and pucker up your lips” had replied Mallory, pushing out a shiny lip-gloss, getting an eyes roll from her, a clear way of asking her if it was truly necessary “… Michael is a nice guy, I wouldn’t set you up with psycho”.

She only had one clue, since according to Mallory “spoiling the identity of his date would ruin the magic of it”, alongside mumbling something about her being a bit too much of a cyber-stalker…

And that clue was that her date’s name was Michael, biblical and decidedly normal, too little for her to check him out on Instagram (although she had tried).

Mallory had gently rolled the lipstick onto her lips, till she was satisfied.

She already had felt uncomfortable due to the sticky sensation between her lips, deciding to clean it as soon as she was alone in the little diner they were supposed to meet for an appetizer.

Mallory had then pushed a mirror in her face, revealing a flushed face, and although the entire ensemble hadn’t made her feel like a clown, it was a bit too much for her.

Still it had looked definitely badass, enough that she knew why her roommate was so requested: she was lovely, without losing anything of herself.

“… also you look amazing” had mumbled shyly Mal, meanwhile she adjusted her hair, gently pushing out of her face “… he will have a dumbstruck expression when he’ll see you”.

She had doubted it, but she had felt confident and definitely not in need of the validation of a man.

And she definitely hadn’t needed her date being late, already annoyed by the entire ordeal, with a perfect plan to occupy better that night: “B99”, the last piece of cheesecake in the fridge and best of all… her bed, warm and comfortable.

She had been thinking this when suddenly she had felt a deep breath in front of her and she had raised her eyes as soon as the spot in front of her had been shadowed and there, in front of her, was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

An elegant dust of red had been smeared on his lids, meanwhile kohl lined his eyes matching the outfit he had worn an elegant leather jacket on a red graphic shirt with “Gucci” written all over it, tucked in a pair of skinny ripped jeans, giving him a grunge look she fell in love with, meanwhile his face had an angelic trait, a clear contrast with his devilish outfit.

He had been blushing, clearly out of breath, his cheeks blossoming of a pink shade, meanwhile his eyes had tried to meet hers, looking at her as if she was searching something, which had gotten her to assume a confident stance or at least try to.

She had reasoned he couldn’t be a waiter, so he must have just come in, another client like her.

-I am Michael- he had blurted out and it had taken her a few minutes to link it with her date, meanwhile the boy had looked at her expectantly, without knowing what to do and asking for instructions -… Mallory’s friend-.

-Oh…- he was her date.

Her date was very beautiful: an androgynous god, with curly hair she wanted to caress.

-May… I … sit? – he had asked, shyly, ducking his head, meanwhile she had simply nodded trying to square up in her seat, and form a coherent dialogue.

-Of course- what a brilliant answer -… I am (Y/N), Mallory’s other friend- she had mumbled, cursing at the absurdity of her words, since he probably already knew, and she was being a fool, because his beauty had taken away any ability of hers to talk.

-I figured out- his laugh had been nice and warm, and he had offered her an hand after he had settled down; she was honestly grateful he hadn’t tried to come closer and kiss her, even just on the cheek, she was grateful he had half a knowledge of personal space -… I am also sorry for being late, I swear I don’t do it often… I had a photoshoot which took much more than I thought…-.

A photoshoot?

Was he a model?

He certainly had the look for it, being an ethereal creature with a big range, being able to assume a such a strong range, ruling both genders and all the ones between those.

-… you are a model? – she hadn’t meant to sound skeptical or anything, but she also hadn’t wanted to assume and just sound dumb…

-Yeah- his cheeks had become again flushed and she couldn’t help but want to pinch them gently but she had tightened the grip of her hands on her knees -… I know it’s strange, I still can’t believe it happened… one day you are in your grandma’s house and the following… you are shooting a photoshoot for Gucci-.

Hadn’t she been attracted before, she was now.

He clearly had seemed taken by the entire argument and she couldn’t help but love the shining passion in his eyes, his interest peaking when he mentioned the “Gucci” house, before hiding his face.

-… I am sorry I swear I am not trying to seem arrogant…- he had bitten his bottom lip, ashamed.

-Oh, don’t worry! – she had reached out her hand, pushing it over his shoulder, more to comfort him than actually to try anything, which had gotten her a grateful smile from him -…I actually know nothing about this world, but I also am very curious, so please talk all you want-.

He had become so red that she was sure he would have probably busted a coronary or something, but after a deep breath he had simply smiled and went back to talking about his life as a model and he also explained how he had met Mallory, working on a set for one of his photoshoot, since it wasn’t unusual for him to wear make-up (she had complimented the red eyelids, immediately getting a gentle smile).

“She is one of the best I have ever had: we need more sunshine-made people, on set!” he had giggled, meanwhile she had agreed that Mallory was everything good made as a person “… she said that she had a very cute roommate, meanwhile we were talking and she … said… “.

“I am sad that you in the end got a very annoying roommate” she had replied, meanwhile giggling a bit, just to be greeted with a slow gulp from the other boy who had then mumbled:

“I think that I actually got very lucky, instead, you are lovely” this had made her blush and the sudden silence had been interrupted by the waiter who asked their orders, letting them discuss on what they had chosen, Michael complimenting her drink choice, meanwhile she asked him if what had ordered wouldn’t make him gain weight, getting a wicked smile from Michael, who after a few minutes had started getting more at ease, even asking question on his own.

In the end, the night was nice and she actually had felt very enchanted by the shy model, who had suggested on her not getting an uber but getting a lift from him, so that he could apologize for his lateness; he had also tried to pay for the entire appetizer, getting instead a strict refusal.

“If you want a second date, you better understand that I am a pretty independent lady”.

She might have been wrong, but his eyes had shone interested at her own feistiness.

She had been bewildered at the elegant and sleek sportive car, immediately looking at it for a few good minutes, meanwhile Michael had explained he had paid it with the first money he had had, wanting something that could make him run away from everywhere.

“.. it’s presumptuous”.

“I think she is the prettiest” she  had giggled, entering it with extreme attention, not wanting to damage the pretty thing in the slightest “… you know the night is definitely going amazingly”.

“I thought that when I saw you in the table” again a simple mumble getting her to smile and her cheeks were rushed with blood “… I mean… I was honestly expecting some creepy girl”.

“… same” she had replied, meanwhile she had laughed shyly, the car revving itself up underneath her and she almost had had to restrain a scream of excitement meanwhile they rushed to her home, a soft choice of classical music, mixed with jazz coming from the radio.

“You can change it” Michael had mumbled, eyes on the road, but she could sense the self-conscious note in his voice “… all my friends say that I have the musical tastes of an old man”.

“I don’t mind it” she had sung along, humming softly at the tone, soon Michael was with her and when a few more popular songs came on the radio they belted out, the complicity that had started that night clearly shining and although it was just an appetizer, she was extremely taken by Michael.

She just hoped he felt the same, although they had joked, Michael’s shyness made it difficult for her to understand him and although she had wanted to try to be more proposing, she also hadn’t wanted to disturb the quiet of the poor boy, whereas he had confessed how awful some people made him feel.

“It is all so crazy: people somtimes say that they admire me, and then get into fights “for me”, they insult others because of that... and I mean... it is stupid and terrible to have this kind of power”

So, she had opted for a more posed approach, waiting for him to act, but they had arrived all too soon in front of her house, and she had to invent something to conclude the night happily.

-I had fun, tonight- he had mumbled, looking in front of him, his tell-tale blush reappearing -… I mean… I usually do not got out to these kind of things… it’s been so so long since I have had a date, so… I can understand if this sucked-.

She had been honestly surprised for his love failures: such a pretty face with that enchanting manners shouldn’t be left all alone.

-… it didn’t suck- she had leaned in, again caressing softly his shoulder, again to comfort him and suddenly he came extremely closer to her, enough for a kiss.

But she, instead, had panicked: it was the first time it happened with a boy, she usually was so confident and…

… and she had grabbed his cheeks, indeed the softest she had ever felt.

But she was also extremely aware of how silly the entire thing must have seemed.

Perfect.

She had met a nice guy… and she blew her chances.

Michael just looked at her in the face, definitely confused but then a shy smile had taken over and he had mumbled something about having had indeed fun and then had gone to open the door, as a gentleman, wishing her goodnight.

“Goodnight” she had mumbled back, fidgeting with the cars, then adding “… it was a very nice night”.

“Definitely funny” he had smirked, and waited for her to be inside of her house (she knew he had, because when she had turned around she had found him propped onto the side of the car, waiting for her, clearly wanting to seem disinterested, but he was blushing, a lot…) before running away with his sportive car.

She had been sure it was the last time she would have ever seen him.

He hadn’t tried anything and certainly he hadn’t kissed “goodnight”, which wasn’t a bad thing.

She didn’t mind boys who took their time and didn’t shove their tongues down her throat, but she had halfway hoped that with a cutie like Michael, the spark would fly and although she had known that his shyness would be a bit in the way…

… still she had no sign of his interest, except the “I had fun, tonight”.

Had he “had fun” with her just as a friend? Or as a date?

Both?

Neither?

That’s what she had asked herself the entire day: she had never been this level of head over heels for anyone, but shy, model Michael who was way out of her league…

She thought that fashion was a beautiful industry but not hers: fashionable dresses looked good, on everyone except her.

And the bad thoughts keep on annoying her, mostly because usually she handled well rejection: she moved on quickly, thinking that it was simply not the guy for her.

But this time, it made her feel bad, about herself and her feelings.

Mallory had noticed her struggle that night, when she had come back and immediately had asked info on her date, just to receive her extremely gloomy roommate, who thought that Michael had disliked her in everything:

“We had a nice night… I mean… I did, but I am not sure about Michael… he was…- “she had bitten her tongue, meanwhile she had thrown her head back “… he seemed a bit off… and definitely not interes…”.

But before she could have finished her thought, Mallory had sent her a look which said “please don’t speak bullshit with me”.

-… I literally had Michael fanboying all over me, about how wonderful it was to have a date with you- she had mumbled, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel her heart burst of pure satisfaction.

-Tell me more- she had mumbled, even adding the entire sing-song voice as if she was in “Grease” and Mallory had looked conflicted.

-… I am not sure I am allowed to say more… Michael is my friend…- she had mumbled, just to get (Y/N)’ puppy eyes and after an exasperated sigh -… he says that you were very nice to talk to, he is an introvert so he needs people who don’t feel life-sucking and he said that you were also very respectful, and that he tried to lean in for a kiss but you went to pitch his cheeks, so… he was sure you were the one who didn’t like him…-.

Oh shit…

Shitshitshitshit…

That poor self-conscious boy.

She must have scared him.

Mallory had been a step from spilling more tea, when her phone had buzzled and she had gone to retrieve it from its charging point just to realize it was an unknown number and she was halfway from not answering, sure that it was a call center, but then Mallory had just shouted quickly:

“Answer it! It might be Michael! I gave him your number” which had made her be extremely nervous, sending her an incredulous look: Mallory had taken this matchmaker role too far.

-Hello? – her voice wavering, not giving out too much, since she had been honestly scared of what might happen next… and worst of all that it might have indeed up to be a call-center.

-(Y/N)? – Michael’s voice was low and sweet, clearly shyness again shining in it, but she had known it all too well, although it was a bit distorted -… I am very sorry to bother you-.

-Oh, don’t worry, Michael… you are not disturbing me, in the slightest- she had adopted the immediate charm of her best flirting -… I am actually glad that you called me-.

-… oh…- she had then known that Michael was straight up blushing behind the phone -… well, I am glad that you answered me, and I hope you won’t think this is creepy, I asked your number to Mal-.

The entire phrase had been a continued babble, too fast that she had found it a bit difficult to follow him but it was extremely endearing.

-I don’t mind it, in the slightest- she had smiled, confidently -… I am actually happy she did, so that we can talk a bit more, I enjoyed our conversation, yesterday-

Michael had choked on the other line and after a few minutes of silence, she had felt him try to breath out a deep breath, before blurting out:

-…what about talking more, on a second date? -.

The second date had been lovely and they had been able to know each other in a more intimate way: she had talked about her body-issues, and how she had slowly moved upon the more tomboyish side, baring a part of her soul she hadn’t expected him to get and to even compliment.

“I am an androgynous model” he had mumbled, meanwhile they discussed over it at dinner, this time in an elegant restaurant he had suggested “… so I know that the entire thing about gender roles is stupid”.

He had also told her about his life, before modelling, stretching out on how comfortable he felt with her…

“… these are extremely delicate things…” he had mumbled, as a way of requiring her discretion “… my parents had trouble because of me, I was a very unwanted pregnancy and they both… died, when I was a child, so I was passed onto my grandmother: she wasn’t an amazing person, but it was due to her that I first got into modelling”.

She had shot the photo, which had made him famous, more out of pride, a prize to show to her friends, the one she met at the hair-dresser and the one with whom he she played bridge: she had posted it even on Facebook, with Michael’s help and the following day… a model agency was at his door.

“It was all too sudden” he had commented, meanwhile he had munched onto their appetizer, clearly not as refined in his aspect as with his manners “… but it was worth it; I am away from that horrible place and I have a bright future, for me”.

“That seems honestly lovely, I am glad that you had this all” and she still hadn’t understood why he would even think about going out with her, whereas everything around him was so bright, so charming and fascinating.

And she was just a simple piece.

Not the best one, not the worst one.

He had then proceeded with modelling funny stories, meanwhile she narrated her own ones, laughter  had been leaving her mouth constantly the same from his, although blush never left his cheek, but his confidence had been slowly appearing and this time when he had leant in, after he had accompanied her back, she had kissed him.

Softly and shyly, clearly not wanting to hurt him or scare him away, but he had surprised her being bold enough to ask for a second kiss, and a third one and then she had felt his phone vibrating in his jacket (they had been so close during the kiss) and he had ignored it, a first time, just to lean in for his fourth kiss, his nose bruising against hers.

But at the second vibration, he had had to answer, with a grimace and she hid a little silly smile.

“Give me just a few minutes, please” he had asked, pleading with puppy eyes, and she let him, moving towards her house, blowing him a silly kiss.

They hadn’t met for another two weeks, since Michael’s phone call had been from his agent, John Henry Moore, an ex-model, who had programmed for him a little trip in Asia for a special photoshoot, and then, a little  stay there for a modelling workshop with models from all over the world.

“You literally have no idea how boring it is in there” he always told her, when she was allowed to call her, time-zones always coming in the way “They are all so self-absorbed”.

It was a big joke, because he then told her all about how he had managed to make friends with each of the other models, although some were indeed presumptuous, “something was definitely stuck up there” he laughed, meanwhile she told him, about her “non-model routine”.

“I woke up, went to my job, passed a bit at the gym, did a bit of grocery shopping…” and he listened to her as if she was narrating him some epic adventure, whereas her life was completely the most annoying  “… you seriously never get annoyed by my silly stories?”.

“Maybe I like the sound of your voice, a bit too much” he joked, and it was in that time that his voice and words made her center turn into molten liquid.

But Michael was not only shy, but sexual suggestions or innuendos were ineffective on him.

She could have probably laid naked in front of him and he would have been like “how was your day, lovely? Have you forgotten your clothes?”.

And part of her liked him all the same, and another part… wanted to push him down her bed, half of the time they spent together, because of that innocence.

A month had been enough to declare them “boyfriend and girlfriend”, which had gotten a delighted squeal from Mallory, one of the few who knew about their relationship, since they preferred keeping it private for another bit of time.

And for her it was enough: her sweet and handsome boyfriend who had a real talent for seeing beauty in each thing, even a tomboy like her.

A week, after two months together, he had suggested she joined him as his plus one at a party for the release of a collection of one of his stylist friends:

“I thought it would have been a fun idea for a different night out” he had mumbled, meanwhile he had blushed, probably because she had sat down on his lap, meanwhile they were in his luxurious loft, which he shared with other models, but they went out for the night so it was just the two of them “…if you don’t feel comfortable or anything…”.

“I think that I would enjoy it very much, Michael” she had giggled, staring to lay joking kisses all over his face “… I am just a bit confused on what to wear, I don’t know if I have anything proper for it”.

“What about the pantsuit you wore, when we went out, the last time” she couldn’t help but remember Michael’s face at the elegant pantsuit she had worn at their date in an expensive restaurant, an impulse buy, which had proven worth of its price (which was a lot) after she had seen Michael’s surprised face.

Her shy boyfriend had looked at her as if she was a freaking night goddess.

“I don’t think that it would follow the theme of the night” she had reminded him, hugging him closer, and leaving a few kisses in his exposed collarbone, meanwhile her nose followed the scent of the cologne he used, something which drove her crazy “Isn’t it “rock and fashion” themed?”.

“I am pretty sure that nobody would mind, after they see you in that outfit” he had blushed, hiding softly his face in her hair, meanwhile she had giggled at his silliness, diving in for a kiss on the crown of his hair.

“You are too cute, Michael” she had complimented him, meanwhile he had taken a step back to look at her in the eyes.

“… and you are a goddess, (Y/N)”.

This time it was her who had hidden in his neck, meanwhile he had smirked happily, as if his goal in life was to breakdown her tough exterior.

In the end she had managed to find something which was “fashionably rock and roll”, putting herself in a tight mini-skirt of jeans with fishnets and a leather jacket, which basically showed the least effort into it, not that she actually cared of matching the theme or seeming like the queen of the night, but she didn’t want to shame Michael, who clearly belonged into the world.

She had also allowed Mallory to paint her face, choosing a tough smokey eye with a crazy eyeliner and a dark lipstick, and she thanked God that it was matte, because she didn’t know how to applique it again without making a mess.

It was a bit excessive and Mallory had smudged it to match the grunge aesthetic of her outfit.

She had sent Michael a picture, after the make-up was realized getting back a ton of emojis (mostly fire and hearts), since when words fail, emojis worked perfectly for the model, so she felt a bit confident of her ensemble, although she felt like she was going to a masquerade party instead of a stylist lavish party.

And she couldn’t help but feel even worse, when she saw Michael’s full outfit: he had worn a pant version of what she had, with ripped jeans, showing fishnets under it, a strange cut shit, clearly made so it would seem ripped, but what was even more attractive was the corset over the shirt, which was extremely revolutionary but also it low key gave her a shit ton of ideas…

His make-up was spectacular, red highlighted the tiny speckles of green in his azure eyes, meanwhile the expert contouring highlighted the strong bone structure of his face, his cheekbones basically standing out on their own, with an elegant trace of blush, mixed with expert contouring.

Dark lips were smeared like hers and she low key sent her thanks to God, knowing that if they did make-out they wouldn’t have ruined the effect of the lipstick.

It was definitely the work of an expert, but she guessed that he had done it himself, since he had admitted, expecting her to hate him, that he liked the creative expression of make-up, the way it could change a face and highlight gracefully or destroy flaws, empowering a human.

“It’s a body-art, I honestly love it with all my heart, although it isn’t masculine or…”.

“If you think that I care about anything like that, you probably got me wrong” she had replied, caressing his curly hair “… you could dress up as a clown, and I would still want to kiss you”.

But that time, Michael had honestly outdone himself and she couldn’t help but admire him, beneath the lights of the entrance of the rented place they had chosen for the party.

“Do I have something on my face” he had mumbled, meanwhile she just awed at his face and as he had gone to grab her hand.

“Yeah… it’s a thing called beauty” she had replied, getting a quick laugh from the boy, who had just smirked, leaning in for a kiss.

“I really dig this Billy Hargroove’s girlfriend dress, babe” he had complimented her, with the sarcastic side she had discovered he did own  “… but seriously, I think that I will have to keep you by my side for the entire event, or some model or stylist might steal you away from me”.

She had just blushed, mumbling about being only his, before they had strutted in, her less confidently of Michael, who, if he was even slightly nervous didn’t show it, at ease amongst elegant people in the chicest clothes she had ever seen, the kind you saved on your Pinterest boards.

She had met a lot of people, quickly forgetting a ton of names, but everyone seemed nice enough and they had kept offering her champagne, complimenting her for landing a beauty such as Michael, although she honestly felt like it wasn’t beauty the only thing that brought Michael out and made him special, but she had tried not to fight with Michael’s “friends”.

The stylist Ryan had been actually very nice, and she had been thankful for Michael’s fashion history lessons, so that she could navigate comfortably the conversation, but also Ryan, unlike the others, was actually also interested in her and asked a bit about her.

At a certain time, Michael had left her to give a cheer, something for which he had needed a few kisses of reassurance for, but he had done just fine as she had observed him raising her glass with complicity in her eyes, when he had finished his discourse.

And apparently her smile had done something for him.

He immediately had cornered her in a shadowy place, the boldest move she had firstly seen him do, not that the others had bothered, since they had been all busy taking in the next talker on the stage.

“We should get out, now that I have done my thing” he had suggested, clearly he had also reached its maximum of social energy.

“… what do you suggest, my knight in a shining armor?” she had asked, her hand in his, meanwhile they had moved out of the elegant house, inventing excuses as they met the people that they had talked with at the start of the night.

“There is a little diner not too away from here, it’s cute and it has a wonderful 50s aesthetic that I know you would dig” he had said, and you couldn’t help but feel moved by his sudden confidence: was it the confident outfit or the expressive make-up who brought this side of him out?

She hadn’t been complaining and she had let herself be led, in the diner, which was supposed to be only a few block away, so they hadn’t taken Michael’s car, and this had given them a good excuse to make out clumsily, dizzy on the champagne in the first alley they fhad ound, feeling like horny teenagers, but she hadn’t minded it so much when Michael had kissed her neck like rose petals, his curly hair tickling her face, meanwhile she giggled a bit too loudly.

Right when hands had slipped under the clothes, she had heard coughs and two guys, a bit drunk by the way they held onto each other, and she immediately straightened up, exactly like Michael, who blushed lightly.

She and Michael had moved to get away from the embarrassing situation but the two drunkards had started laughing and used the q-world.

Michael had seemed greatly unaffected, but he had just tried to pass of, but she couldn’t ignore it and had shot those two an hateful glare, but this was ineffective, since the two men just whistled at her but worst of all they said:

“What is a pretty girl like you doing with such a faggot?”.

But it didn’t stop there.

“Maybe she is the one with the dick, you know there are these disgusting people…”.

Michael couldn’t stop her, although he had tried to grab her arm, to stop her and get her to run away as fast as possible from those two, he had deemed dangerous.

“You just insulted my boyfriend, pricks” she had never been one to speak up about anything, but she had always had her own strong opinion, and this constant feeling of having to defend those she loved, like Michael “… I suggest you to say sorry”.

She had tried to keep her tone calm, but it didn’t work so well, since her fists had been shaking on her side, and Michael had tried to call her, saying it was no big deal.

But she had known it was a big deal: it was why Michael cowered in fear when he had to admit his passion for make-up, the fact that he was a model and he struggled to see that she loved him for who he was.

“What if we don’t want to, little freak?”.

Well, she had always known one way to make men listen.

And she had kneeled the nearest bastard straight in the groin, and as one went out, the other went down with him.

“Leave us alone, assholes” and she had turned around, cleaning her hand over her fishnets, meanwhile Michael had had this heated glance on his face, as if she had just stripped naked in front of him.

“I think that the diner might not be the best place after this” his pupils had been full-blown, he clearly had seen something he liked and she had dared just a light glance to his skin-tight jeans, just to discover, there was indeed a bulge in them.

“Mallory is over at her girlfriend’s house” she had suggested and soon they were again in Michael’s car, his hand gently skimming over her thighs.

Sexuality was something that she hadn’t very much explored with Michael, both due to his shyness and both to the fact that they were both taking it slow, but to say she wasn’t suddenly aroused was a lie.

She felt powerful for the effect she had had on Michael when she had fought those two pricks.

The rush onto the stairs almost made her trip onto herself and Michael, a few good laughs coming from their mouths, quickly shushed by their kisses and as soon as they were behind closed doors…

… she finally got her hands on the corset which had been teasing her all night, the idea of it staying during sex made her smirk, meanwhile Michael helped her out of the loose blouse she wore, immediately eyeing her simple bralette: she hadn’t meant to dress sexy, although it was almost part of the aesthetic so…but at least her panties and bra matched.

Michael looked at her, reverently and shyly, as if he was waiting for her to decide what to do, next… as if he was completely in her hands, a sensation which got to her head and to her thighs.

“That corset…” she mumbled, through kisses, Michael did know what he was doing, “… it made me feel things for the entire night”.

“… and that stunt, with those guys…” his eyes were honestly so dark that she almost thought he had contacts on, and he was so hard against her thigh “… I honestly was so scared, but you were so brave, you always are”.

She blushed, the mood dissipating a bit of sexiness in exchange for a softness, shining in her eyes as she guided him gently towards their sofa, straddling his lap.

“I am not, I was scared shitless, and it was definitely the champagne…” she joked, caressing gently his hair, pulling them back, away from his sweaty forehead, before laying a soft kiss on it “… you are the cool one, looking fearless on the catwalk, I would just fall on my face and make fun of myself”.

“You wouldn’t” he still laughed at the image “… but even if you did, you would just get up, as fierce as when you kicked that man in the crotch. Also remind me never to make you angry”.

“Right now I am awfully horny so…” she mumbled, meanwhile grinding against his thigh particularly roughly “… you better do something about it”.

“Not on the couch” he giggled, gently raising her “Mallory wouldn’t be happy”.

She continued with the kissing, the mood settling on a more romantic night, with him releasing her on the bed softly, not missing her little smiles.

And that was when the entire mood of the night shifted.

“You looked like a goddess, with those two assholes” Michael’s voice was breathy and before she knew it he was rutting into her, the hotness of the entire situation letting a silken breath be let out from her lips “… you were definitely the hottest woman I have ever seen”.

She didn’t know where it came from, but she couldn’t help but love that submissive tone in Michael’s hazy eyes, pleading her to do something, anything, and she did it, reversing their position and throwing herself on top of him, clearly in power right now.

This was power: the reverent look in Michael’s eyes, as if she was just sitting on his hipbone as if she was on a throne, her throne.

She tentatively grinded against him, slowly almost a caress against his clothed cock, meanwhile his face scrunched, eyes rolling back and she lowered herself to lick his neck, from his collarbones to the soft skin under his ear.

Moans erupted from Michael’s mouth and she giggled, at the tone, immediately going back to her previous position, smiling wickedly at the effect she had on him, before leaning down to kiss his lips, and whisper:

“Is this ok?” for her to take control on him for that night, drunk on the sheer power of relented dominance, but before she did more she wanted to check with him.

Sex and sexual preferences hadn’t been that discussed between them, so she wasn’t sure if this was something that Michael might even slightly be into, and she didn’t want him to regret this or to be even slightly uncomfortable with her.

“I thought that what I had between my legs was enough to say that I am enjoying this” giggled Michael, with more words she had heard him utter since the two drunkards had interrupted their make-up session “… but yeah it is ok… I actually prefer being… submissive in bed”.

She knew she wasn’t his first partner, Michael had had a previous relationship with a fellow male model (he had told her this when things had started being actually getting deeper between them, mostly because he was scared that she might be “prejudiced” towards him… strangely she wasn’t in the slightest) but she wouldn’t have guessed that he preferred the submissive role.

He was pretty shy, but Michael knew what he was doing constantly, unlike the constant chaos she was.

“Oh” she simply mumbled, before gently grabbing his hand from his side, pushing them up, over his head “… then… I think it’s my time to do something about it…”.

And she reached behind his legs, touching him over the clothes, meanwhile his hips keep rutting in the heel of her hand, meanwhile she giggled with mischief in her smile.

“… if you feel uncomfortable in the slightest, say “Gucci”…”.

She had never been the “dominant” of her relationships she hadn’t also very much thought about it, since sex was always some kind of childish thing with her previous partners: it was as if it had its passages and then… it was done… finished, whether you came or not.

Things had never been discussed and, although she tried to be vocal on her likes and her dislikes, most of the time “the man knew better” and she was always halfway through kicking them in the groin the following morning when they offered a second round.

That’s why she wanted Michael to be comfortable.

And also… not to lose that gaze full of admiration for her, although she felt like she might not deserve it.

“Did you…?” Michael laughed straight up in her face, and before she knew it her hand had quit the movement on his clothes and delivered a sound slap to his thigh, getting a pained moan “… that hurt”.

“You disrespected me, baby boy” she didn’t know how she had managed to speak like that, mostly due to her hate for pet-name, but Michael (literally) stood at attention  “… it doesn’t work like that, you do it one more time, and you will not come for the entire night”.

Michael gulped down a big load of saliva and she took a moment to wait for his answer, taking in the beauty of the model: some of the red eyeshadows had been roughly smushed around the lid, and she saw the lipstick mark of the color she had worn that night on his neck.

He still looked like a beauty and she was curious about how beautiful he could get if ruined.

“Yes, mistress” he replied, searching her approval, since her gaze had wandered off him, but he didn’t dare touch her “I will be more respectful”.

She gently caressed his face, collecting a bit of sweat, before she leaned down on a kiss-mark to bite on it gently and leaving a hickey on it.

And meanwhile this happened, she delivered another slap to Michael’s hip, hearing him let out a pained moan which she quieted with a kiss, cooing him in his mouth, meanwhile she gently guided to turn him around.

“Good boy” she started peppering kisses on his shoulder-blades, Michael relaxing again under her touch and didn’t see the sound slap she gave him on his plump ass, which got an howl from the poor boy “… this is for speaking up, in matters you don’t have a say into”.

She then delivered another.

“This is for not being quick in answering me, I expect the best from my boy”.

Another.

“This is for not counting… and believe me you will get one till we reach ten” she waited for Michael frail “three”, checking any discomfort in his voice, but although Michael’s held a painful sting to it, it was hazed and rough due to the excitement he was in “… and then if you are a good boy… I might think about letting things go further…”.

And this got Michael to count, whining for each slap, till ten, meanwhile she adjusted him onto her laps (she couldn’t help but laugh at the size difference, but only inside, outside she needed to try to be stern).

When Michael breathed out the “ten”, she gently helped him to get in a more comfortable position, meanwhile he kind of limped due to the redness and stinginess on his ass, which she caressed in an attempt to comfort him, as she gently cooed him and complimented him on how well he had taken his punishment.

“My beautiful good boy…” she cooed on his lips, gently kissing him with peppering kisses, in an attempt to get his hazy eyes to focus on her, which happened and immediately Michael was on her lap, trying not to crush her, giggling gently.

“Wasn’t I good, mistress?” mischief shined in his eyes, which clearly told her that he knew the answer “… don’t I deserve a reward?”.

She knew that she was being a bit too easy to satisfy him, that she should have made him beg more…

… but he was the cutest with his pouty lips.

And she lowered onto him, her nose skimming his stomach, laying wet kisses on it with carefulness to his gasps and his moans, mapping his skin, from the most sensitive to the least, passing again on the formers in order to blow air on them and leave hickeys on them.

She then reached his pants and brought them down, alongside the fishnets, his bulge appearing from his designer boxers, the length clearly bigger than the ones she was “accustomed” to, and her mouth watered, opening slightly and mouthing over the “Versace” boxers.

Michael shifted and she just needed a glare to make the flinching stop, a nervous glance shone again in Michael’s face, as if he was scared, but that fear brought him even closer to ecstasy she knew it, but the way its body trembled under her fingers, meanwhile she traced patterns on his stomach.

“Don’t ruin your reward, sweetie, wouldn’t want to hold you over the edge, right when you are falling from it”.

And then her mouth engulfed him again, taking more than before, still over the fabric but he lost himself, still he kept himself stiller than before, for which he was rewarded with a tiny peck on the tip of his cock, meanwhile an hand went to fondle him inside the boxers, finally pushing them down.

Her eyes shone at the leaking pre-cum on the tip, at the redness and silky feeling of the entire length which was confirmed by a quick touch, getting a shy moan from Michael: he sounded almost pathetic, but there was some melody in that ruin.

She lowered her mouth on him, meanwhile her eyes met him and soon their gazes were enthralled and linked, and she was unable to watch away as much as him…

… and when her mouth wrapped on him, he closed his eyes, just to be slightly reprimanded with a slap on his thigh, and a silly pinch.

She started with the tip, kitten lick and engulfing it in the warmth of her mouth, and the moved further, trying to take as much as she could and fit the rest in her hands, meanwhile teeth were sheltered under her lips, and hair fell down deliberately around her.

She must have been a truly masterpiece.

But Michael kept on looking at her, as if she was indeed some goddess and she only felt spurred by this to continue her ministration, till she felt him twitch and she backed off from him, a devilish smile on her face.

“… beg me, my sweet boy”.

Michael was clearly taken by surprise and she couldn’t help but lean down to kiss his lips, letting him taste pre-cum on them, but retreating to quickly, another way to tease him, as the hands that wasn’t working on him, caressed distractedly his nipples.

“I am not hearing anything, Michael” she taunted him, lightly.

“Please…” it was soft, and low, and she pretended not to hear it “… please, mistress, I need to come…”.

“That was quite cute, but you didn’t seem so desperate…” she considered, even holding an hand under her chin, as if she was thinking about it as the other speed up the rhythm on his cock “… and don’t forget… you have to wait for my permission to cum”.

Michael sniffled, slightly, showing teary eyes and she broke off character thinking that maybe she had gone too far.

“… did I go too far?” any teasing or annoying tone was brought away, and just worry filled her eyes.

Michael also broke away from his role, although tears shone in his eyes, he smiled, shyly.

“I haven’t said Gucci, have I?” he asked, sassily and the ruling part of her wanted to gently slap him across the face, for such disrespect, but then his voice broke off, excitement and haziness showing in her “… I am fine”.

“I was just scared I got a bit taken by this…” she tried, meanwhile he gently “… but now that we both know it’s fine, I suggest you to beg, because if you are not that desperate we can go on, for a little bit… longer”.

Michael’s teary eyes this time didn’t stop her and she just waited, till Michael obnoxiously mumbled a “please” after another, and another and she knew that he was basically on the brink of an orgasm, and although it would have been truly cruel to let him like this, she gave him the nod, which led to the permission…

…which lead him to come roughly and thick creamy cum was soon coating her hand.

He almost passed out, since not only he was breathing heavy enough for her to be sure that even the neighbors heard him, and worst of all his eyes rolled back and for a few moments she was sure that he was out for the tonight.

But then his hand reached out for her, as if he was asking for something to anchor him back after a mind-blowing orgasm, which got her to cradle him closer, his hand on her thighs, gently caressing his hair, meanwhile she waited for him to come back.

And when he did, he smiled softly and shyly, and she did her best to reassure him with gentleness and softness trying her best to make the atmosphere feel comfortable with him.

“I have to admit that I have never… you know… that hard”.

It was almost cute to see Michael like that after he had just acted that loosely with her, but she tried not to bring it up, the poor boy was already burning from embarrassment, she just shushed him,,kissing his forehead.

“Well… it was also my first time, in that kind of dynamic, I hope I wasn’t too rough” she asked, meanwhile she kept on taking slow care of him.

She thought about seriously giving him a bath, mostly because they were both a sticky mess, and the eyeshadows she had loved was smeared also on his nose, which she flickered gently to get his attention.

“… you were amazing” he replied, softly, his tone rough “… I think that nobody did make me feel like this, I honestly felt so secure with you, you always make me feel, like that”.

“Of course, sweetie” she kissed his nose, this time; the compliment went straight up to her mind, she couldn’t help but feel amazed that he felt like that about her, it was an honor, truly “… I love you, and this means that I want every inch of you”.

“People have always made me feel stupid for what I was…I was always too pretty, too stupid, too feminine and nobody ever wanted me for me” he gently reached for one of her hands, to kiss it gently “… not you, you are infinitely patient with me, and don’t mind each of my ‘flaws’…”.

“They are not flaws, Michael” she replied, meanwhile he looked at her up, surprised “… they are what make you, you, and I wouldn’t change anything in the slightest, so don’t even think about a moment that they ‘flaws’ “.

“You make me beyond happy, (Y/N)” he mumbled shyly, kissing again her hand, and laid a soft kiss onto her thighs, and she couldn’t help the shiver that left her body at the sheer contact.

For the entire time she had been focused only on Michael’s pleasure, but she couldn’t hide for much more hers, copious and heavy between her thighs, wetting the inside of them and she was sure that had Michael kissed a bit higher, he would have met her wetness.

She was still wearing her fishnets and panties under them, but her excitement was evident, and Michael couldn’t help but take in, a guilty look on his face.

“I wasn’t a true gentleman… I didn’t let you finish first” he mumbled, shyly and he quickly moved to make himself place between her legs, his intention clear.

“… oh you don’t have to” she giggled, trying to dissipate her embarrassment, closing her legs to stop him “… it was fine, I actually”.

“Oh no you don’t get it” he rapidly broke her fishnets and she couldn’t help but wonder where her gentle boy had gone, mostly when he looked at her like that, with a devilish glint in his eyes “… I want my revenge for before, so sit back, little princess and let me handle it”.

And soon his tongue was between her legs and she couldn’t think about anything more, except begging for more.

… oh, how the table have turned.

Mallory was drinking her coffee, when they finally decided to exit the bed, Michael had insisted for a morning round, just to be remembered halfway through it that he had a meeting in thirty minutes, and she had had to take the reins in her hands.

Well, now they were both satisfied and in need of breakfast, just to be welcomed by Mallory’s knowing glance, and she discovered even more because of the evident hickeys on both of them, and the little bruises she had left on Michael’s hips with the pinching and the slapping.

(Michael still hissed when he sat down on the table, for the spanking of the previous night).

“Shouldn’t you be at Coco’s?” she asked to dissipate the embarrassment.

“I have a meeting in twenty minutes” and then she looked at Michael, after she had taken a sip from her coffee mug “So does Michael”.

The boy, smiled shyly, almost hiding behind her and she wondered where had gone the boy who had eaten her out till tears, last night, rutting his hips in the mattress…

… probably the same place where Mallory’s interest for her own matters went.

“I can give you a lift, if you get me a mug of coffee” suggested Michael and Mallory just smirked, going to the kitchen, leaving them alone, meanwhile Michael gently leaned down for a “goodmorning kiss”.

“… see you tonight, lovely” he giggled, before kissing again his forehead.

“So we are that couple?” she replied, sarcasm coming from each poor of her.

“Sweetie you kicked somebody in the groin for me, of course we are that couple” he exclaimed, kissing her forehead quickly “… love you”.

“Love you, too”.

---

Thank you for reading everything!

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[wonhosmistress]

You & I

A/N: This idea came from an ask I sent @sojournmichael about Michael being the type to do self-care since he’s a dramatic hoe. I mean c’mon! look at that beautiful hair and that eyeshadow...you CAN’T tell me he doesn’t spend time to look good. Anyways this is the outcome and I gave it some sort of plot which I honestly wasn’t going to and it’s completely out of character for Michael considering he’s a cold-hearted man but let’s be honest. Michael Langdon just want to be loved and I hope I did him justice, enjoy y’all 

(I also tortured myself so much with this softness last night and didn’t go to bed until 4am)

Warnings: None, just PURE SOFTNESS

Summary: The reader is worried that Michael has been biting off more than he can chew at the outpost and confronts him with some sincere talk and gives him some good ol’ tlc!

Word Count: 1,509 

The sound of soft heels echoed through the walls of the quiet outpost as y/n made her way through the corridor and into her master bedroom; her gaze fell on Micheal, who looked completely drained from his daily responsibilities trying to keep everyone from killing each other. It crushed her to see him like this. He was the only one keeping up the outpost by a thread before it would all eventually come tumbling down in pure chaos. Michael was truly the heart of outpost three and it hurt her that whenever she would attempt to help him he would always end up denying her help. All she wants is to help lift some of the weight of his shoulders even if he is the son of the angel of darkness, he is still half-human and not even his powers can help him. He is bound to collapse from exhaustion soon and that’s exactly what she's trying to prevent.

She made her way to the right side of the bed and sat down on the small space next to Michael’s legs she looked at him as his hands remained covering his face in a frustrated state. She extended her arm and grabbed his hands as she pushed them down in a concerned way, he looked at her in with admiration as her soft gaze was still fixed on him. She grabbed his hand and placed both of hers and caressed them lovingly, “Michael, you can’t keep doing this.” she said as slightly scooted closer to him. 

“Just because you tell me that, doesn’t mean I’m going to stop.” He said in a very defensive tone. 

“Look, I’m not trying to attack you or tell you to stop completely. It’s your life you can do whatever the hell you want with it, I’m just saying that you can’t keep doing this by yourself. You need help because we both know damn well that if you don’t you’ll collapse from over-exerting yourself, need I remind you you’re still half-human?” She sighed. 

“Michael, babe...the least you could do is let help you with the small things.” 

She told him as she cupped both of his cheeks and caressed his soft white-pink tinted skin with her thumbs. Her lips brushed his, softly long enough to feel her warmth, love, and concern she was exuding. She pulled away slowly and looked at him directly in the eyes observing his reaction, he sighed in the defeat she had him in. He always turned into a weak mess after her kisses and she knew that. “Also, please consider taking time off every other day for your well being.” 

He watched as she stood up from the bed and walked towards the bathroom shuffling through some items, he admired her from afar as her slightly short appearance tip-toed to grab something from the top shelf. He laughed quietly and smiled at her cute appearance. He got up from the bed and walked towards her with his chest facing her back as his body towered over her as he grabbed a small tub of lotion she needed and handed it to her. 

“Thank you,” she said smiling at him as she tiptoed towards him trying to give him a peck on the cheek. She grabbed a couple of other items and sat them over the vanity they had in the room, Michael followed her and stood against the wall his eyes following her continuous movement around the room until finally doing one last thing. Locking the door of their bedroom. She turned to him and motioned him to sit with her which he did, he looked over his shoulder and noticed their skincare products sitting on the vanity.

“All of this is because you look so exhausted and you really need some tlc plus I have some extra things in store for you,” she said dragging out a foot tub from under her and pouring some lavender scented Epsom salt in the hot water. “put your feet in.” Michael sighed basking in the soothing feeling. She proceeded to get up and grabbing a red cloth hairband to keep his hair away from his face, she carefully took his long, soft, silky hair in her hands and put it on for him. She made her way back on to the stool and fixed it one last time before grabbing a cotton pad soaked in micellar water. Michael had his eyes fixated on every single movement she made, he couldn’t believe that this small yet delicate girl had taken his heart and soul. He never once believed that was capable of giving and receiving love until he met her that day at the satanic church, she wasn’t there because she was looking to a part of a group but because she wanted to know what the deal was. She was already a Satanist even before Michael Langdon came into her life. He never would’ve thought a girl like her belonged at the satanic church and she didn’t-she self practiced at home. 

“Michael?”, her voice took him out of his love trance and his eyes look at her. “what?” he said shamelessly. “close your eyes. I gotta take off your makeup.” So he did. She carefully pressed the cotton pad on his eyes and swiped the red tinted-eyeshadow off as well as his light foundation along with the rest of his light makeup. After she finished taking off his makeup he grabbed her wrist and tugged on it motioning for her to sit on his lap since he couldn’t go wash his face right away due to his soaking feet. She went from sitting in her stool to his lap and turned her torso so she could face him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and stared at his intimidating yet ethereal features. Taking ahold of his soft caramel blonde hair she played with it until a mischievous thought popped into her head causing her to tug on it lightly resulting in Michael to moan. She smiled smugly at him and the second Michael looked at her directly, he closed the space between them and she felt his hot breath against her ear whispering, “you’re so lucky, I love with you otherwise you wouldn’t stand a chance.” She turned to him and said, “Is that a threat?” she said as she got up from his lap and crossed her arms as her glance became fixated on him.

“It can be whatever you’d like.” He winked at her as he walked off to the bathroom to wash his face and returning she gave him an irritated expression due to his cocky reply but brushed it off. She ripped the package of the sheet face mask that was in her hands and slowly unfolded it then placing it carefully on Michaels’ face making sure his entire skin was covered in the wet moisturizing contents the mask held. “don’t test me, honey...”, she told him as her soft lips got closer to his ear and walked back slowly to look at his reaction of the cold mask on his face. “Is that it? You actually thought the mask was going to bother me, you’re cute.” 

She disliked how she could never seem to even try to control Michael and she was at the point of completely giving up but that wasn’t the type of person that she was, she was bound to making him give in sooner than later. However, tonight she decided to push that aside and take care of Michael even though he could do that himself. She was doing it because she loved him deep inside and wanted to make up for the possible love he never got when he was younger, her expression went from bothered to weak for him. 

Tags: @sojournmichael, @langdonsplaytoy, @ccodyfern, @jamespatrickmarchisoof, @dixmond-taurus, @disneyisqueen, @wvntersldr, @michael-langdon-appreciation, @lostin-fern, @thegraphitechronicles, @lvngdvns, @wroteclassicaly, @divinelangdon

(Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed!)

[taehyungsgrowl]

sojournmichael → taehyungsgrowl

hi friends! idk if any of you all will read this or not! but i decided... it was time for a change! bts is coming into a new era and so should i so. 

anyway - i will still keep my ahs/cody masterlist up and don't plan on deleting any of those fics. and ofc still i still welcome any asks related to that as well! 

i hope this reaches my anon friends as well! i love you all dearly!!! 

[littledemondani]

“I’ll make it worth your time” and “Get on your knees” for Duncan 👀👀

i wrote this with college!duncan! i hope you don’t mind!

//

Duncan quickly headed to the library after class to do some homework, knowing fully well he wouldn’t be able to study back at the frat house. Not that he minded all of the chaos that went on there, in fact, he took part in it himself at times, but he needed to get an A on this essay in order for him to stay in the class.

He sat at a table away from everyone, pouring over the chapter he was meant to write his essay on. He was so into his studies that he didn’t notice Y/N coming up behind him with two cups of coffee in her hands. 

“Hey,” she says, giggling as he flinches a little before turning to look at her. “Sorry for scaring you. You didn’t answer my text so I just brought you the same thing I got. I hope that’s okay?”

He smiles, taking the cup from her and sipping from it. “Mmm, it’s good. Thank you.”

She sits across from him, taking out her own textbook and spiral notebook. “This is probably the most I’ve ever seen you study before. What happened? The usual guy you pay to do your homework said he couldn’t help you or what?” she teases.

“No,” he says as he rolls his eyes. “I actually do my own homework, for your information.”

“Riiight,” she says, winking at him playfully before beginning to read over her biology textbook.

For a while, the two are engrossed in their studies, neither of them making small talk or even looking up to see what the other is doing. Y/N decides to take a break from jotting down notes, the words all starting to seem jumbled together on the paper. She gets up to go get some chips from the vending machine and is surprised to see Duncan still working when she returns.

“Dude, take a break already,” she says as she sits down, ripping the bag of chips open and popping one into her mouth. “You’ve been at it nonstop for over an hour, I think you’re good.”

Duncan ignores her, too busy typing away on his laptop to even hear her. Y/N furrows her brows a bit before taking the chip bag and reaching it across the table, waving it in front of Duncan’s face. “You can have some of my chips if you want. I know how much you like these.”

Nothing.

She sighs, drumming her fingertips on the table as she thinks of another idea to get Duncan to take a break. It comes to her a moment later, and she smirks a little, moving to sit on the chair next to him. She rests her head on her hand as she looks at him, the smirk growing wider. “You’ve been working too hard Daddy, you should take a break.”

Duncan stops typing, and she begins to think that her efforts didn’t take much at all, but then he continues on, not hearing a word that came out of her mouth.

She pouts a little, scooting her chair closer to him. “Duncan,” she whines, beginning to slowly trail her fingers down his arm to his thighs, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth as she does so. He tries to concentrate on his writing but finds himself typing the same sentence over and over as she continues to rub her hand over his thigh. She comes dangerously close to his cock and he swallows a little thickly, causing her to chuckle. 

“Y/N,” he says, looking around the library before turning his eyes to hers. “We’re in the library and I’m trying to finish this essay.”

“So,” she says, flashing him a teasing smile as she ghosts her fingertips over his growing erection. “That’s never stopped you before. Remember the time we fucked on the sofa during that one party?”

He groans softly at the memory and at the feel of her hand, bucking up against her instinctively. “Mm...I do remember. That was a great party.”

“It was,” she says, palming him a little harder. “Can I, Daddy? I’ll make it worth your time.”

Duncan smirks, leaning back against the seat. 

“What are you waiting for? Get on your knees.”

//

tagging: @k-laaaa @fckinsupreme @wroteclassicaly @lovelylangdonx @lvngdvns @llangdvns @melodylangdon @dark-mei-rose @littlegirlsdontplaynice @fallenangeldreamer @plymptxn @blakewaterxx @sojournmichael

[icyharrington]

Discipline (Michael Langdon X Reader)

just a nasty, self-indulgent PWP one shot i wrote just to take a lil break from is it wrong! this is based off some conversations between @xtheinevitableprophecyx​ and i. just a few things to note: 1) this is an au, in which hawthorne era michael is a priest-in-training working at a catholic school. 2) y/n is over 18 in this story. and 3) i’m aware that catholic schools don’t spank bitches w rulers anymore, but for the sake of the smut we’re gonna pretend that they do. lmfao

also, this is definitely not the best thing i’ve ever written, but this was mostly just for fun! hopefully y’all still like it tho :’) 

plot: you’ve violated dress code one too many times, and now you’re really in for it. 

warnings: catholic school au, priest in training!michael, fem!reader, inappropriate relationships, dirty talk, degradation, humiliation, spanking (both traditional and non traditional..) w/ objects, boot riding, face slapping, hair pulling, cunnilingus, orgasm denial

word count: 4k 

tagging some people who might be interested: @wroteclassicaly, @lvngdvns, @langdonsrapture, @avesatanormalpeoplescareme, @bbyduncan, @alicecooper19, @satansapostle, @michael-langdon-appreciation, @ccodyfern, @starwlkers, @divinelangdon, @americanhorrorstudies, @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26, @langdonsinferno, @sodanova, @maso-xchrist, @trelaney, @langdonalien, @langdonsdemon, @cocosfern, @sojournmichael, @sassylangdon

“Ms. (y/l/n).”

The man behind the desk waved you into the office, making a show of checking his watch before pulling his lips into a thin, cold smile.

“You’re two minutes late.” He reclined back in his chair, looking comfortable as he laced his fingers over his stomach, eyes following your every move as you ventured further into the room.

“Sorry, sir,” you mumbled, turning to shut the door behind you.

The man in question was Mr. Langdon- the young, handsome priest-in-training who’d just recently acquired a job at your Catholic high school. You’d listened to your friends swoon over him ever since your first day of senior year, remarking on just how goddamn unfair it was that a man so beautiful would soon enough be of the cloth.

Mr. Langdon really was beautiful. He couldn’t have been much older than twenty-five, with clear porcelain skin and bright, hooded blue eyes. He always styled his wavy, slightly overgrown blond hair with the smallest touch of hair gel, keeping him looking polished and well-kept. You hadn’t been one of the ones who’d been blessed enough to have him as your teacher, but now, as luck would have it, you’d wound up in his presence anyway.

“Has the importance of punctuality not been instilled in you enough, Ms. (y/l/n)?” His voice was even and low, and you found yourself squirming at the sound of it.

“No, sir, I- uh. I was just held up in my last class.”

He raised his eyebrows but did not persist further, gesturing for you to come closer to him. “Put your bag down by the door.”

You did as you were told, skin prickling at the feeling of his eyes boring into your back; when you turned to face him again, there was the faintest hint of a smirk painting his features. You swallowed audibly.

“So, Ms. (y/l/n). Tell me why you’re here.”

“Well, um. Because the headmaster told me to come here, sir.”

The full truth, which you did not exactly want to say aloud, was that it’d been your third time getting caught violating dress code, which at your school meant discipline. And discipline, as you’d been told by a number of your friends, was something to be avoided at all costs. On these occasions, if the headmaster himself was too busy to provide you with discipline, he’d send the offending student off to a nun or priest (or, in this case, priest-in-training) who was available.

Knowing your luck, you weren’t exactly surprised that Mr. Langdon had been the staff member you’d been sent to.

Mr. Langdon cocked his head at you, sinking further back in his seat. “I know that already. I want to know what it is that you did to warrant being sent here.”

You averted your eyes down to your palms, already slick with perspiration. “This was my third time breaking dress code.”

“You will look at me when you are speaking, Ms. (y/l/n),” he said sternly, and your face bloomed with color as you shifted your gaze back to his pale eyes. You hadn’t expected for him to be this…authoritative, especially considering that he was new to the school. “Now, tell me. In what ways did you violate the dress code?”

You fidgeted, trying your hardest not to look away for fear that he’d chastise you again. “I just had my shirt unbuttoned a little bit lower than we’re supposed to, and I rolled up my skirt so that it was a little shorter, sir. It really wasn’t a big deal.”

He chuckled dryly, crossing his legs as he allowed his eyes to travel up and down your body. “Oh? So you don’t think that maintaining one’s modesty is a big deal, then?”

“No, I-“ you paused to gather your thoughts, feeling all at once very flustered. “I just don’t think all this is necessary. I learned my lesson when the headmaster spoke to me.”

He leaned forward in his seat, a predatory expression crossing his face as he surveyed your obvious apprehension. “Oh, quite the contrary, Ms. (y/l/n). I’ve dealt with plenty of girls like you in my day, and I’ve always found that physical…enforcement, shall we say, proves to be the most effective form of discipline.”

Your stomach sank. Physical enforcement? Of course you’d heard of the ways that some of the nuns would punish disobedient students, but the thought of being bent over and spanked like some kind of petulant child (by a man as poised and attractive as Mr. Langdon, no less) made you want to shrivel up and die of shame.

“Uh… girls like me, sir?”

“Yes, Ms. (y/l/n), girls like you. Disobedient little brats with far too much self-importance, who show off their bodies so they can momentarily satiate their desperate thirst for attention.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, clearly enjoying the way that tears of humiliation had begun to well up in your eyes. What the hell kind of a priest spoke this way to people? “Does it make you feel special when the boys look at you? When they fantasize about what’s between your legs as you saunter past them in your rolled up skirts and ripped stockings?”

You stared wide-eyed at the blond-haired man, dumbfounded by the brashness of his words; you blinked, and then a single tear was making its way down your hot cheek. He grinned, not a shred of sympathy to be found behind his cool demeanor.

“How many of them have you let touch you?” He was rising to his feet now, and no longer were you looking down at him from where you stood. Instead, he towered over you, a nasty sneer stretching across his face as he worked to close the gap between you. “How many of them have you let inside you, all because they called you pretty, made you hate yourself a little less?”

You were unable to let out more than a pathetic whimper as he reached out to wipe away your tears with the sleeve of his black dress shirt. This was wrong, this was bizarre, this was uncalled for- and yet you felt something like arousal coming up from between your thighs.

He came closer to you, so close that his face was only a few inches away from yours, cinnamon-scented breath adding to the already-present heat of your skin. “Go bend over the desk.”

Looking up at him with round, wet eyes, you nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He watched as you made your way over to his desk, gingerly bending over the dark, polished wood until your breasts were pressed flat against it. Squeezing your eyes shut, you listened to his shoes make contact with the tiled flooring, circling around so he was behind you.

“The first thing I need you to understand, Ms. (y/l/n), is that when you are in my office, and I ask you a question-“ he yanked up your skirt, your ass immediately overtaken with goosebumps as it was exposed to the air, “you answer it.”

He tugged at the thin scrap of black lace that was your underwear, pulling it up so that it pinched at your throbbing cunt, and you yelped in surprise. You were fairly certain this was not part of standard disciplinary procedures, but you weren’t about to question him. “So when I asked you how many boys you’ve let inside this cunt of yours, your pitiful sniveling was not a sufficient answer.”

Your breathing was growing ragged, fingernails curling into your palms at either side of your head. He reached past you, sliding open one of the drawers on the opposite side of his desk before retrieving something from inside. He set it down next to you, and you opened one eye to find that it was a simple wooden ruler he’d taken out.

Oh, dear lord.

He returned his hand to your panties, hiking up the fabric so you could feel it digging into your pulsing clit. “Go on. Tell me how many cocks have stretched out this tight, wet little cunt.”

Oh.

You bit your lip, instantly aroused by the way his velvet-smooth voice had formed such vulgar words.  

He pulled up your panties again, this time so forcefully that you cried out, your lower body wriggling when he dropped one hand down between your legs to idly play with the outer lips of your pussy. “I don’t like to be kept waiting, Ms. (y/l/n).”

“O-only one, sir,” you choked out.

He tsked softly, and in quick, sudden, fashion, his hand made sharp contact with your cunt. It was the sound that resulted from this, loud and hollow and wet, rather than the initial pain, that made you wince.

“I don’t take kindly to being lied to, little girl,” he said through grit teeth, twisting the top of your thong with his fingertips. “You walk around wearing panties like this underneath your skirt, soaking them through at the slightest touch from a man, and you expect me to believe that only one boy has had the pleasure of fucking you?”

He said this mockingly, and you could practically hear the self-satisfied smile that was no doubt crossing his lips.

“F-four. It was four, sir.”

He trailed his fingers up and down your inner thighs, a thoughtful hum passing his lips. Then he brought his hand up to graze your asshole, all but exposed with the way he’d hiked up your underwear.  “And what about here, hm? Have you let anyone fuck you here?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you whispered, hoarse and weak. You pressed your burning cheek against the cold surface of the desk, only now realizing that it’d been spotted with your tears.

“And I’m sure I don’t even have to ask about that pretty mouth.” He laughed cruelly, finally letting go of your underwear and allowing you to breath a sigh of relief; you knew better than to relax fully, though, your body tensing all over again when he picked up the ruler he’d laid next to you.

“You know, there’s a word in the bible for girls like you.” He dragged the flat side of the ruler over your ass, pace teasingly slow.

You had the feeling that he was trying to bait you, and so you complied. “W-what is it, Mr. Langdon?”

He leaned forward, and as he took a fistful of your hair to guide your head back towards him, you felt something hard protruding through the stiff fabric of his dress slacks. “Whore.”

You shuddered, a chill traveling down your spine as he released your hair and returned to his original stance behind you. Placing the ruler vertically along your ass, he began rubbing small circles over the tender expanse of skin with the wood.

“Count,” he said flatly. He drew the ruler back before promptly bringing it back down full force, and, without thinking, you squealed.

“O-one,” you breathed. The stinging sensation lingered for a moment, intensifying the arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach, and you braced yourself for the second strike.

He hit you again, harder this time, bringing the palm of his free hand to your lower back to keep you still.

Voice cracking, you spoke again- “two.”

He struck you a third time, and then a fourth, your breath catching in your throat as you struggled to keep up with his rapid pace. The pain of the ruler on your skin wasn’t too unbearable, but it stung, and you were sure that your ass would be covered in red stripes by the time he was finished with you.

Smack.

“Do you realize that your cunt is dripping from this?” he asked, once you’d let out a raspy ‘five’. “Your thighs are slick with your own disgusting arousal. You should be ashamed.”

Somehow, the degrading nature of his words only aroused you further; you were practically dizzy with want.

Smack.

“S-six.”

He prodded your cunt apart, pressing ruthlessly against your clit and snickering when you moaned under his careless touch. “I should’ve known this punishment wouldn’t work with a whore like you. What you need, I think, is to be shown just how pathetic you really are.”

He stepped back, tracing his fingers over what you assumed were the marks that had formed during your beating. “Get on your knees.”

Swiftly, you followed his orders, slipping off the desk and sinking down until you were kneeling before Mr. Langdon; he leered at you coldly, appearing even more intimidating than usual from this new angle, his chiseled face heavily shrouded in shadows. You eyed his bulge, which was, at this point, impossible to ignore, your mouth watering as you wondered what his cock might taste like.

When he noticed you looking, he scoffed. “I hope you aren’t under the impression that I’m going to let you suck my cock.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and slight disappointment. If you weren’t on your knees to suck him off, then why were you on your knees?

Folding his hands neatly behind his back, Mr. Langdon raised up one well-polished black shoe to ease apart your legs, wedging the smooth leather just below your aching core. What exactly was he getting at here?

“Since you are clearly in desperate need of having your cunt touched, I’m going to make sure you get exactly that.” He nudged your pussy with the top of his shoe, earning a strangled gasp from the back of your throat. “You are going to ride my shoe until I tell you to stop. Am I understood?”

You felt yourself flush at the obscenity of his command; was he really going to make you do this? From the way he frowned at you, eyebrows poised expectantly, you were pretty sure that he was dead serious.

He pushed his foot up into your cunt again, jarring you. “I said, am I understood?”

“Y-yes, sir.” You rocked your hips forward cautiously, rubbing your clothed center up and down his shoe, eyelids fluttering shut as pleasure slowly began to overtake you. You let out a barely audible whine as you ground yourself down, feeling the leather make friction with the soaked fabric covering your clit.

You cursed lowly when Mr. Langdon again delivered a firm shove to your pussy; at this, one large, veined hand flew to your face and slapped your blushing cheek. “Language, Ms. (y/l/n).”

“Sorry, sir.” Your mouth suddenly fell open as he angled his foot to apply more pressure to your clit, a cocky grin ghosting his features.

“You know, you could have refused me,” he said, caressing your jaw with his thumb, “but you just couldn’t resist being touched, could you?”

You said nothing, and he kicked up into your pussy again, just hard enough that it hurt.

“Could you?” he repeated.

You bowed your head, rutting your hips faster. “No, sir.”

“Are you aware of how pathetic you are, little girl? Dropping to your knees without hesitation at the request of an older man you hardly know?”

Your tongue darted to the corner of your mouth, knitting your brows as you neared your release, your face prickling with embarrassment. He kicked you again, licking his lips at the way you sobbed, the jolt of pain only adding to the immense, rapturous pleasure that was building up in your belly.

“I said-“

“-Yes, yes, I know I’m pathetic! Just- please.” You slowed for a moment, stopping to catch your breath, and he urged you on with yet another merciless thrust to your heat.

“Keep going.”

You sped up, moaning loudly, and then it was too much, your eyes rolling back as your wet cunt made use of the expensive leather shoe beneath it.

“-oh fuck-“ you sighed, and then came Mr. Langdon’s expected kick between your legs, most of his directed aggression falling upon your swollen clit.

Your body spasmed, and before you knew what was happening, you came, spots of white and red and gray obscuring your vision. Only once you’d recovered from the mind-numbing orgasm, and you saw the unmistakable anger flashing behind Mr. Langdon’s hooded eyes, did it dawn on you that you’d sorely fucked up.

You gulped.

“Did you just cum?” he asked, voice deceptively calm and even.

“N-no…” you lied, digging yourself into an even deeper hole, fingernails worsening the runs in your stockings.

He pulled his foot out from between your legs, rolling his ankle as he examined the glistening slick that now coated his shoe. “You just came.”

“I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to, I swear-“

“-You stupid, useless little slut.” He grabbed you by your hair, administering a painful tug that was strong enough to bring you to your feet. He pushed you back until the desk was cutting into your ass, manhandling you until you were propped up on the edge. Up until now, he’d been entirely composed and collected when dealing with you; this was the first time you saw real rage entwining with his angelic features, and you had to admit, it frightened you.

He pulled your skirt up crudely to your waist before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and removing them in one fluid motion.

Without a word, he returned to his desk drawer, rifling around inside until he found whatever he was looking for- you didn’t dare move a muscle as you waited for him to come back.

“I didn’t want to have to use this on you, seeing that this was only your first time being disciplined,” he said, bringing a slender wooden paddle into view and leveling it in his hands. “But it appears that you’ve left me no choice.”

He strode over to you, wrenching your legs apart so that your flushed cunt was on full display for him. “Put your hands on your thighs. Oh, and I’d strongly advise for you to stay still and keep your legs spread, unless you want to make things worse for yourself.”

You bobbed your head up and down frantically, stomach muscles clenching as you prepared for what was about to happen. You could deal with a beating on your ass, but on your pussy?

Although the idea excited you, you were still somewhat reluctant; at this point, though, what choice did you have? You put your hands down where he’d instructed, sucking your lips into your mouth as you waited with bated breath for your punishment to commence. You already knew this wasn’t going to be pleasant.

He used the paddle to spread around your wetness, tapping the corner against your clit so that you flinched. “This first one is for breaking school dress code.”

He slammed the paddle against your clit so hard that you were only able to part your lips in a silent scream; this was far more painful than when he’d spanked you with the ruler, and silently you cursed your body for betraying you like it had.

“This one is for being late.” He brought the paddle down with a loud slap and you hissed in pain, trying your best to keep your breathing steady.

“This one is for lying about how many boys have fucked you,” he continued, following his words with another harsh strike to your defenseless clit.

“This is for cumming without my permission.” This hit to your core was a particularly agonizing one; it was taking everything inside you not to close your legs, but you knew he’d only make you suffer more if you were to disobey him again.

“And this one, Ms. (y/l/n), is for lying about it.”

He slapped your pussy with the paddle one final time, your lower lip trembling as you attempted to stabilize yourself. Your cunt was on fire from both sheer ecstasy (why the hell had this turned you on?) and discomfort, and upon looking down, you could see that it was bright red and enflamed from the abuse it had endured.

“Poor thing,” he cooed, stroking your inner thighs with a feigned tenderness. He gave you a taunting pout as he put down the paddle, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Do you want me to kiss it better?”

His tone was so condescending, so syrupy sweet, that it almost sounded as though he were speaking to a baby. Still, you nodded, parting your thighs even further when he lowered himself onto his knees between them.

He peered up at you from beneath a veil of thick lashes, placing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on your inner thigh. You shuddered, feeling his warm tongue drag its way up your leg and to your labia, a broken cry escaping your throat when he sucked one of your lips into his mouth.

The sensation of his tongue gently gliding up your abused slit was soothing, your head lolling back as he massaged your cunt with his soft tongue. You were stricken with the urge to take a handful of his golden hair and pull him closer to you, but decided against it- it would only anger him if you behaved impatiently.

His mouth found its way to your overstimulated clit, and your lower body jerked forward the instant he enclosed his plump lips around the bud. He reached up to hold your thighs down, calloused fingertips pressing into your padded flesh as he alternated between sucking and lapping at your bundle of nerves, making your whole body shake with your impending climax.

You grunted, inadvertently bucking your hips towards his mouth, and, chuckling softly, he pulled back.

“You’ll ask permission to cum this time,” he said, silky hair tickling your inner thighs. He’d let up from his emotionless facade for a moment, heavy-lidded eyes dilated to the point where they looked almost black.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, pulling it into his mouth and pressing his tongue flat against it, sending shock waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You writhed awkwardly on the desk, leaning back onto your palms as your tongue darted out to moisten your dry lips; the coil in your stomach was already starting to unwind, and you knew it would only be a matter of minutes before you were cumming again.

“Oh god,” you panted, and you swore you felt him smile against you. “I’m- sir, can I please-“

“-May I please,” he corrected, reattaching his lips to your bud as soon as the words left his mouth.

“May I please cum, sir?” You were hardly able to form a sentence, teetering so close to the edge, but you couldn’t disappoint Mr. Langdon again.

“Hm,” he murmured, locking eyes with you as he guided your clit into his mouth one final time, swirling his tongue over it in leisurely, drawn-out motions. Then, without warning, he released your clit from his mouth with a pop, a wicked grin creeping across his lips.

“No.”  

“W-what?” you stuttered, taken aback. Was he really going to leave you high and dry like this? Was he that sadistic and evil?

He stood up, dusting off his pants where he’d been kneeling. “I said no. You certainly don’t deserve it after the number of times you blatantly disobeyed me today. Now clean yourself up and get out. I have work to do.”

You merely gaped at him, eyes big and glassy as tears of frustration threatened to escape them. His lips were glossy from a mixture of saliva and your juices, curved upwards at the corners as he regarded your desperate state.

Pushing off the desk, you adjusted your skirt so that it sufficiently covered everything, bowing your head as you did. You were disappointed, but this had been a punishment, so you shouldn’t have expected any kind of reward anyway.

Still, though, you couldn’t help but feel duped.

Mr. Langdon sat down at his desk, looking just as pristine as he had when you’d first arrived at his office. He tilted his head to one side, raising his eyebrows expectantly. “I trust that you’ve learned your lesson?”

“I don’t know,” you said, eyes glinting mischievously. “I might need to come back a few more times just to be sure.”

[lovelylangdonx]

Michael Langdon Relationship Headcanons. (Michael x Reader)

Michael is the worst when it comes to keeping his hands to himself. Whether it was a casual sweep of his arm across your back, or shamelessly securing his hand over your thigh when seated in public, it was only to remind everyone of who it was that you belonged to. And to dare anyone through a narrow eyed slit to sentence their own death by trying to challenge that.

Absentmindedly rolls his fingers over the large rings he wears on them while he thinks of you.

Will pull you aside out of nowhere into whatever empty room that was available, and kiss you as hard as he could while pinning you to any surface. 

His kisses would range from being full of tongue and teeth to a simple brush of his lips.

Has once approached you from behind without you knowing, then clamped a hand over your mouth before dragging you into one of those empty rooms just to catch you off guard. 

Screw the rules. Michael had you trapped in his arms against the door, mouth assaulting your own during an exchange of hot and heady kisses. The simple gesture was only meant to be a greeting when it escaladed into something far beyond that in a matter of seconds. While it was exciting and spontaneous to engage in, you weren’t sure this was the safest plan with Miss Venable roaming the halls. "Michael-" You whispered breathlessly inbetween kisses. "Venable-" Another kiss. “Is out there." He chuckled deeply against your lips. He had you by the waist, squeezing your flesh into his grip. "That woman is of no concern to me." He leaned in to steal another kiss, quickly putting his hands to use by undoing the works of your shirt and ripping it one clean tear from your body. "But what about-" And another kiss. "The rules?" Michael blew out a breath before stepping back and admiring the new exposure of your chest, his eyes roaming to your flushed face after. Your lips were enticingly swollen while the ragged sounds of your breathing matched his own. He flattened you against the door in the next second, his eyes flashing darkly. "Screw the fucking rules." Michael silenced you with a searing kiss after that, his shirt becoming the next article of clothing to join yours on the floor.

Michael loves when you tangle your fingers into his hair. Anytime, for whatever reason. You never need to have one to run your digits through his long locks.

You are the only one allowed to touch those locks.

Surprisingly affectionate with you. Michael likes to nuzzle his nose into the crook of your neck whenever he has access to it, peppering delicate kisses along any inch of skin that's available to him. "You are exceptionally beautiful, do you know that?" Michael mumbled in a deep drawl against your neck, slowly winding his arms around your waist. "I will never understand how such an arresting creature could have escaped my attention for as long as it has."

Is obnoxiously protective over you, and doesn't leave you alone with anyone. Except with himself.

Literally wouldn't let a feather touch you if you didn't want it to.

Will conveniently appear whenever he hears your name being spoken of, and ignores it when you roll your eyes about it. "Everything about you is my business and that's just the way it is, darling."

Any form of physical contact is blissful for both of you. One simple, intimate touch initiated from the other would be enough to start something that you both would have to finish.

Insatiable bastard.

Is a little bit completely possessive. 

Loves the attraction that he feels from you toward him, but not when he feels it from other males toward you.

May or may not strike the fear of his father into them just for that. 

Always keeps you locked up safe in his room whenever he has to leave the Outpost. And he'll put Mead in charge of you, requesting that she make frequent rounds to check on you and supply anything you needed.

Ignores how ridiculous you think this is as well.

Michael will slip into bed with you even though he doesn't sleep much. It was more or less a place for him to sit on rather than sleep in, and it was left untouched for the most part until you started staying in his room.

His dark eyes would soften in a rare moment as he glanced down at your head nestled into his chest when he would lay with you, fingers threading through your hair before lightly grazing the surface of your cheek.

Always craves the close proximity of you whenever he can have it. Michael never knew that love could be so addicting, and he never misses an opportunity to have you near him.

His love for you is deeper than anything he's ever known. Michael never knew he'd fallen in love until the night you mumbled it first in your sleep, your words floating in an unconscious breath along his chest. "I love you.. Michael..." The sound of your voice was barely enough to be heard. Anyone else would have missed it entirely, but it couldn't be sharper while it rang clear as a bell to Michael. And the feeling of hearing it burned in his heart, every spark he carried for you igniting into an astronomical flame in that moment. It was a match waiting to be lit. He was gripped by the intensity of your truth, swallowing it whole as he turned his gaze upon your head. You were still enveloped into the strength and safety of his arms, head resting above the blazing pace of his beating heart. And Michael would see to it that it stay that way for eternity. He dipped his head low on the thought, tenderly pressing his lips into your hair with a whisper that possessed every ounce of his own truth. "I love you, y/n."

Tagging: @ccodyfern @sojournmichael @myfavouritelunatic @sammythankyou

[hecohansen31]

A Cure For Unrequited Love

Hawthorne! Michael+Witch! Reader (+Cordelia) :

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I have recently chosen to write a little smutty piece for each Michael Langdon’s era (because I am that fan of his) (right now we have Outpost with “Little Love Notes”, I have this and I have written down a “Fire & Reign” piece I am very proud of, and I am working on a “Grunge Era” Michael, but I am taking a break from fanfic to edit what I am writing, but I have enough for at leats sei weeks!).

Also I really hope you’ll like this, I am low key proud of it (and I love Hawthorne Michael more than my family...) (and special tag for @sojournmichael, whose “Descensum” piece inspired me to write this, so give her a follow and look at her piece, it’s amazing... it gets my latin kink going... love you, babe).

(Also reader is bisexual/heteroflexible in this fic, which means that she also proves attraction for women, I really hope that my rep of this is enough and didn’t disrespect anyone, if I did, let me know and I will take it down immediately, love you!).

SUMMARY; When your crush for the headmistress of Robinchaux, ends up badly, Michael decides to help you get over with it, with a rather “unorthodox” method...

WORDS: 5,1 K

WARNINGS: Rough Unprotected (as always wrap it up before doing the dirty; it will protect you from both unwanted pregnancy and STDs, be smart and safe, lovelies of mine) Sex (specifically we are talking about Hate-Sex, so be aware of that), Spanking, Slapping, Sir Kink, Degradation through harsh words, Oral Sex (Female-Male receiving) and  Magic involved in the bedroom (because that’s what I would do with magic, I am a hoe...). Also Angst, Heartbreak and Unrequited Love.

She had had a crush on Cordelia since she had first joined Robinchaux.

She had been the first one to believe (Y/N) wasn’t something perverse, a horrible and against nature.

She had taught her how to feel empowered and confident in her powers, with nothing to fear.

Because of this, she had somehow latched to Cordelia, when they had both found each other at their lowest; she was escaping a toxic family situation and Cordelia had just lost Misty Day, which meant that as soon as she had seen the girl she had taken her under her wing, raising her as her most brilliant pupil.

And she had somehow mistaken Cordelia’s motherly and professional attention, for the care and affection she had never been given, due to her supernatural nature, something which had developed her to have a “slight” schoolgirl crush on her principal of Robinchaux.

But being not only shy, but also a bit intimidated by the fact that Cordelia was older than her (although it didn’t seem to matter on the nights were her fingers touched her thighs and what was between them) she had avoided making a move on the woman, just admiring her from afar, and listening to her every order.

And as soon as Michael Langdon had seen her loyalty towards the other woman, he had dubbed her as “Cordelia’s loyal dog”.

When they had first seen each other they had immediately hated the other: she was too “witchy” for his tastes, and in her words “the antichrist was an asshole”.

So there was no way they could have ended in that situation: Michael’s hands on her ass, her lips on his plump ones, in her room.

Yeah, definitely no way.

She would have blamed a moment of weakness meanwhile Michael Langdon wouldn’t waste an opportunity to teach a stubborn and bratty witch a lesson, in how he was better than her, in any way she could think of.

Her moment of weakness had started right after Misty Day had come back and her spot next to Cordelia had been replaced by the blonde and sweet witch.

She had tried to avoid feeling jealousy, but she couldn’t help to feel heartbroken for the fact that the lovely lovely Misty Day had so easily taken her place, in Cordelia’s heart.

And that morning she had confronted her mentor about it, not wanting to confess her feelings but she had done it somehow, right when their discussion had reached its peak and awkwardly she had tried to kiss Cordelia, just for the other woman to avoid the kiss, leaning on a side.

“I am sorry, (Y/N) … I just can’t feel what you feel for me, also it won’t be right, we are just too different”.

She had felt entirely ashamed of her gesture and although Cordelia had let her down gently, trying her best not to hurt her feelings, it hadn’t worked and she had just run away from Robinchaux, not daring to come back.

At least not until she had somehow forgotten about the entire thing.

And what better way to forget than alcohol?

But she hadn’t been able to drink in peace, because Langdon had been there, at the same bar as her.

He had pestered her till it got too much for her and she blurted her rage on him, even going as far as to let out a bit of magic, setting the bar stool next to them on fire, meanwhile Michael had just giggled at her, but more softly, putting out the fire, meanwhile he made a move to switch the tequila she had chosen with water.

“Better not have alcohol near you, if you are going to set things on fire” he had mumbled.

“Next time, it will be your hair” she had threatened him, but with no bite in her tone, too tired now that even the last ember of rage had gone out, just the shallow pit of sadness and shame hanging in her stomach.

She had put her head on the bar table, closing her eyes, as if she had wanted to sleep, and strangely Langdon had caressed her hair, almost softly.

“… you wouldn’t” he had stated, meanwhile she  just huffed out, because he was damn right  “… mostly because I might be of use”.

“With what? Want to bring my dead feelings back from Hell? Because if not, let me drink tequila till I pass out” she proposed “… also since you are the “antichrist” can you turn this water in tequila?”.

She had hoped to annoy him enough that he would have left her alone to her self-destructive tendencies, but it  hadn’t worked out perfectly, since he had stayed there, and she had just rolled her eyes.

“When was the last time you had sex, (Y/N)?”.

That had been enough to make some fire appear in her hand.

“When was the last time you didn’t say something that almost got you killed?” she had retorted.

“What I am trying to tell you is that the best way to forget someone is have a full night of the best sex you might have ever had”.

She had been almost halfway from having a laughing fit when she had realized he was being honest with her.

“Are you serious, Langdon?” she had huffed out, immediately raising her head to look him in his playful eyes “… high and mighty antichrist wanting to have sex with Cordelia’s dog?”.

“You should be honored” he had shot back, looking at her with confidence, just to be shot down by a quick laugh from her part.

“Yeah… I am sure that your pinkie would satisfy me more” and then she had made to turn around, just for him to grab her hand, and push her against him and she had soon realized that what she had previously said wasn’t definitely true.

She had always liked both men and women, but nothing had mattered since her crush on Cordelia and it had been a long time since her last fuck, and the fact that it hadn’t been a good fuck (she had been too scared to let out any magic, to actually let herself go, and it had hurt) made it seem all so much longer.

And the comforting warmth of another body, right when she was feeling damnably alone and sad…

“What would you get out of fucking me?” she had asked.

She might have been naïve, but she knew that without any kind of retribution Michael Langdon never did something: he brought Madison and Queenie back to show that he could and be admitted to the “Seven Wonders”, he had brought Misty Day back to make a point and now she couldn’t come up with a reason why he would agree to fuck her.

But she knew, also this time there was a reason.

He had smirked at her, truly devilishly and she could almost feel his telltale tail moving in the air behind him, meanwhile horns appeared from his head, but maybe it was just a hallucination, because of her tiredness.

“Maybe I just want to piss off Cordelia” and he had grabbed her hand, a romantic gesture, was he not looking at her as it he wanted to eat her “… or maybe I just need a good fuck myself, and your body looks like a fucking masterpiece…”.

So here they were in her room, making out and slamming each other against her elegant furniture (Michael had complimented her on it, before grabbing her face roughly, bringing her in a scorching kiss, which left her totally unaware of the open door) stumbling on the few books she had left on the floor.

It was almost comic, was it not for that pleasure she felt deep in her guts.

And, it was just lazy kisses and light groping with Michael, who was trying to almost memorize her body with his hand, with no attention to her sensitive spots, rubbing them roughly, but some part of her welcomed the pain, feeling like it made her feel something, like it made her feel desired, as if Michael was seriously interested in her.

But she didn’t try to get her hopes up, she shouldn’t have let it happen with Cordelia.

Michael pushed her down the bed, as soon as they were close to it and shed his jacket, almost being immediately mirrored by her, who pushed her leather jacket on the floor, meanwhile she kicked her heeled black mary janes off her feet.

They stripped each other shirts off their body, but whereas she had tried to gently unbutton each button, Michael, after having unlaced the little black blow she wore around her neck, had straight up ripped apart her shirt, getting a slap on the chest and an annoyed “Damn that was expensive Michael!”ò

As a revenge she ripped the rest off his expensive top, before dragging him by his bow tie, towards her lips, stopping just half a second before a kiss.

-Do that again, and I will rip every inch of your body apart- this seemed to surprise him, but Michael just smirked annoyingly.

-Oh sweetie…- and as soon as her grasp loosened on his bow, after he had straightened it up, he pushed her down on the bed, immediately getting on top of her, his body crashing her into the mattress and she could feel each inch of him -… it doesn’t work that way-.

And to make the thing even more… evident, he ripped off her pants, as if they were the stripper kind of jeans, and she just chose to roll her eyes, trying to regain to upper hand, but Michael was physically stronger than her.

But she had a few trick on her side, and her body slowly disappeared under him leaving him a bit dumbfounded, before reappearing on him, pushing him down on the bed and thank to the surprise she managed to get some kind of action on him and blocked him with her legs.

-You clearly never fought with a sibling… you would have known that it isn’t over till you scream “mommy”- she mumbled, smiling arrogantly and strangely Michael reciprocated the smile, moving to push a few strands of her hair behind her ear, just to decide to pull on them and use them to change again the position, and as her legs brushed together, she found she was wet, already.

-… oh, you can call me “sir”, then- he mumbled, again that damned smirk on his face, and had her hands not been gripped so tight that she knew there would be bruises, she would have slapped it off her face.

And from the fact that the smirk became bigger she realized he might have read her thoughts and wouldn’t have minded it.

She would keep it in mind.

-… is that a way to compensate for the fact that we can’t call you “supreme”- wrong move, because Michael had been tame at least till that moment and before she knew it, the position had changed again (she would get an headache from it, if he didn’t settle, she was sure…).

And now she was on his knees, sprawled on them with her facing his face and before she knew it a slap was soundly delivered to her ass.

She should have expected, seeing her behavior and Michael’s tendency, but no other partner had ever spanked her in bed, and not with that lack of care that Michael had just used, as if he didn’t care if he bruised her.

She was thankful that at least her panties were still in their original place, taking a bit of the impact but it still stung as hell.

(Which was incidentally where he came from…).

-What the hell?! – she should have shut up after that, but not being Cordelia’s loyal dog, anymore, made her feel daring -… didn’t know that you were a pervert like that, Langdon!-.

-Well, at least I have a good company- and he ashamedly moved himself and her to be able to take a look at her panties, raising them to reveal more, which made her honestly a bit uneasy, since it had been so much time since she had been that exposed, no matter the fact that she still had her pretty royal blue lacy thong (not that it covered much of her), but her wetness was clear as the light of day.

And this proved she enjoyed it.

-… your pussy is already throbbing for me, it’s very very flattering. He laughed at her discomfort, touching her gently through the soft and silky fabric, collecting the wetness he could find, not exactly too much, but still it smeared his finger when he lazily dragger a finger up her folds and he cleaned it up recklessly on her thighs -… maybe you are not Cordelia’s loyal dog, you are more like her bitch in heat, right now-.

-Would you stop talking about her? – not because it was painful, but she knew that Cordelia wouldn’t have approved and she was ashamed of it.

But a part of her liked that she was trespassing an unspoken rule Cordelia had given her.

She had just warned about how dangerous Michael was, knowing she wasn’t some love sick witch, one that would think to want even the slightest contact with Michael.

“Of course, Cordelia, he is just a stupid asshole, not my type” and now she was letting him see in her in her most vulnerable state.

That was called character development.

(And, spoiler: not for the better).

-… does it bother you? – and not letting her answer he slapped her ass again, this time, skin hit skin and she had to bite down harshly on her lip, feeling blood erupt in her mouth, from the cut she had provoked, biting down on her lip -… I bet she would be extremely disappointed to see you wet on my lap. Her loyal bitch has finally betrayed her for some cock-.

-Go to hell, little antichrist ... - and she should have stopped there, but she felt the need to save some kid of honor -… and stop talking while you are at it, you are annoying-.

She expected a slap, and had already closed her eyes, but nothing happened and the waiting was actually worse than just a violent gasp.

When he did act up, he grabbed her hair, again (did she discover a hair kink?) and raised her to meet his face.

-Frustrated much? – he replied, before spitting on her face, something she didn’t expect so she didn’t react, and then she was pushed again on his laps -… now make yourself useful, little bitch, count-.

And the slaps immediately came back.

She didn’t count, resisting him, with an annoyed look, but then the torture got even more worse, because there was not only the sting of the slaps, but also her dripping arousal, and Michael didn’t seem to care about it-

There, she had just given up and started counting, getting an amused laugh from Michael, and she kept her head down to avoid his arrogant and judging eyes.

She arrived at ten, but before she had already received five of them, and Michael wasn’t nice and sweet, clearly wanting to hurt her, although he was careful on where he hit, hitting just the plumpest areas in order not to injure her permanently.

Clearly, she wasn’t the first one on his laps, and she was low key grateful for that.

She wouldn’t have sit down without whimpering for a good week, and as she got a good look at her ass she discovered it was inflamed, and Michael actually smirked, groping her much more gently as if he was comforting her, and in that moment she realized she had tears streaming down her eyes.

She was a mess, but apparently Michael just found her extremely attractive, and he made sure to tell her.

-Look at you, little bitch, all ruined after a few slaps, how will you be after you got my cock in you? -.

-Maybe this is all overcompensating for your lack of…- and she just wiggled her eyebrows, getting an annoyed roll of eyes by Michael, which turned her on her back, in order for them to come to face to face, before slipping under her, and getting on top her, but…

…. There was something strange: he was in the opposite position as her, staring at her legs, but she forgot about any confused thoughts she might have, as soon as he licked a little strip of her through her underwear and if before she had been just started getting wet, now she was dripping, and he managed to collect a lot with his tongue, moaning at her taste, before straight up ripping off her panties.

(She would make him pay for anything he broke she would make sure of it).

-… and you taste so sweet, no matter the bitter words you speak of, I’d much rather listen to what these lips have to say about me, they like me quite a lot-.

-Thank God, shut your mouth and make it useful- she honestly had a thing against people who spoke up not understanding the danger of the situation, but in this case, she decided to be a bit daring (not to say downright stupid).

Oral was something that she honestly missed, since it was something that not everyone she had been with, felt comfortable giving.

Only one partner had actually given her oral and they had been quite good at it (A/N: I decided to keep it neutral, so people can choose!) and she had enjoyed it.

But it was nothing compared to Michael’s skills.

His tongue tasted her, gently at first, before diving into her suddenly and she let out sweet delighted moans.

But everything got better and more intense, as soon as is tongue meet her skin, right on her clit, where he installed himself, sucking it roughly.

But he wasn’t done.

His fingers slowly approached her, and before she knew it, one was inside her, reaching an impossible depth she honestly didn’t believe existed.

And this time she stopped breathing, whining in a very inhuman way, feeling something shatter near her but she didn’t care, not when he started moving his fingers.

Michael smirked against her clit, probably amused by her loss of control over her magic and soon she felt another thing shattering, and this time Michael straight up laughed.

She thought it honestly sounded so beautiful, boyish and genuinely happy and not only she pushed more wetness on his face, but she felt a tight fist in her stomach, begin to unravel, and she was exactly a minute away from Paradise, stars under her eyes and all that shit…

And then Michael stopped.

And if she thought he had been evil after the fifteen slaps, this time he was even worse

… and worst of all… she couldn’t see him, so she couldn’t foresee what would be coming next.

And this stressed her much more.

-… why don’t you also put your tongue to some use? – he replied, turning a bit around to stare at her -… and I might consider going back to what I was doing…-.

-Aren’t you scared my bitter mouth will melt your precious length? – she mumbled, sending him an annoyed look, now the teasing was all welcome.

He couldn’t leave her hot and bothered without expecting some revenge…

-I will take that risk- he stared at her annoyed, but his eyes still had some kind of smirking glint -… just avoid the teeth-.

And she just nodded with the fakest smile on her face.

She unzipped his pants, feeling nervous for what might be happening next, meanwhile Michael turned around to observe her, and if she was nervous before, now she was halfway through having an heartattack, but she tried not to show it too much.

She didn’t want to give Michael any kind of satisfaction.

And as soon as she was in a comfortable position, and the monster length was in her face, she immediately moved an hand to his cock and gently started pumping him, feeling it mostly to adapt and take some time, getting a few low moan from him, meanwhile he looked at her under lowered lashes and hazy eyes, the excitement evident, no matter the fact that he faked a “yawn”.

And that’s when she tried to take as much as she could, without giving him no chance to adapt, surprising him enough that he screeched, just as she had done when he had firstly slapped her, surprised by how much she could take (and honestly she was surprised too… but didn’t let it show).

She watched him through fluttering eyelashes, before retreating herself form him slowly, saliva coating her mouth.

She didn’t push him away completely and immediately went back to it.

She took less, mostly because her throat had been strained a little bit too much, but she tried to appear languid and sexy enough.

She avoided teeth, but as soon as she saw him deep in a trance, enthralled in the throes of lust, she gently ranked them against his dick a bit, feeling him immediately gain conscience, looking at her almost hurt.

And she sent back an extremely fake innocent look, between her lashes, happy of the control she had seemed to gain, but immediately it was taken away from her, again the hair kink appearing.

He grabbed her hair, and as much as she was grateful for them being out her face, his grip was almost bruising enough to pull a few hair, leading her to a fast-paced rhythm, facefucking her as if her mouth was a fleshlight.

But something was much different, because seeing him lose all his senses, because of her mouth was low key… exciting and empowering, because no matter how much tighter his grip on her hair was, she was in control.

And it was even more clear when a pillow on her bed shattered, and this time… it hadn’t been her.

When she felt something musky in her mouth, she twirled her fingers and Michael was roughly and magically pushed off her, no matter his strong grip, and before he could reply and react, she was on top of him, she knew she had no chance to fight him and held him off, so she better hurry up.

And before he could protest, she slipped him inside of her, immediately feeling his muscles, under her tighten, meanwhile she adjusted to the stretch.

Clearly if she had had trouble fitting him in her mouth, she had trouble also fitting him inside her extremely tight canal, since if she was inexpert in any kind of oral, she was even less expert in those things, and Michael was no mere human.

He was the antichrist.

And his dick also showed that.

She had exactly one minute, before he started pushing in her and she immediately had to move her hips at the same rhythm.

She pushed her hand down his chest, mostly to get some stability, since Michael rutted in her with no care.

But she honestly didn’t care-

It felt so so good, with him reaching her in some pretty unspoken places, undiscovered by hands, tongues and dicks, and as soon as she believed it had reached its fullest, she was remembered that he hadn’t…

-… who knew I would enjoy so much the sight of your breasts bouncing…- he moaned out, and he immediately gripped her sensitive globes, unclasping her bra, instead of ripping it, something for which she was grateful and rewarded him with a particular change of angle, and he seemed further in her -… and I somehow managed to shut you up-.

She couldn’t actually answer him, because she was too intent mentally pronouncing the spell that would give her the last laugh… she hoped.

And it worked, as soon as she felt herself leave the bed, levitating over nothing.

She had found this spell a few months ago, the stress of being unable to perform it, had led to her trying to relieve herself through… a “physical method” but the spell hadn’t left her mind and soon as her climax approached him, she found herself levitating through it, and the fear of almost plummeting to the ground had brought her to an mind-blowing finale.

Michael immediately gripped her, tighter, his handprints wouldn’t be only on her ass, but also on her hips, and she cooed in his ear, almost making fun of his distressed state.

-I thought I would make this more magical- she giggled, taking immediate advantage of Michael’s slowing pace, slamming into him -… but don’t take too long, usually my fingers take me fifteen minutes and I have never tried to hold out for more-

But danger made it all more interesting and immediately Michael took the hint.

Slamming into her like an animal, pulling her hair, and palming appreciatively her breast, pinching her nipples, and she almost climaxed at the sight of him biting her nipples, but he just slowed down there, feeling her clench around him, milking him closer to his ending.

And to her questioning look he just smirked.

-… you said fifteen minutes… and just five have passed- he answered, before thrusting up, impaling her on his cock -… I don’t intend to lose even a single minute of this magic-.

Some people, after they had discovered that they had no chance with the person they loved, put on Taylor Swift at the maximum volume and just cried, others drank themselves stupid, not to talk about other substances…

… she had fucked the freaking Antichrist.

She realized that the Antichrist had also cuddled her to sleep, and her muscles were on fire, not only for all the abuse that her entire body had experienced, but also for the aerobic she had done thank to Michael and the little help of magic.

They had actually beat the record, of fifteen minutes, and after her first orgasm, he hadn’t stopped. fucking her through the mattress and she was sure there would be broken tiles, on her floor.

Not that she regretted any kind of those things.

She was just confused at Michael’s presence in her bed, after he had gotten what he wanted-

His strange behavior had started before the accidental sleep-in, after her fifth orgasm, obtained with his cock on her mouth and his mouth on her cunt, after they had calmed down, he had suggested she got some healing cream for her ass, even going as far as summoning the little tube in his hand, and offering to massage her ass, but she had just replied that she didn’t trust him around her ass, after what had happened.

But she had still let him massage her throbbing should.

After she had exited the bathroom, where she had gone to clean herself up both from his cum (he had cum inside her, but he had reassured that she wouldn’t be getting any kind of demonic STDs, alongside the fact that he had eyed her pill on her desk, so no demonic spawn) and hers.

After that she had fallen asleep quickly expecting him to leave, too exhausted to keep her eyes open and check him.

But, apparently, he had slept in and also he had showered, since he smelled like her fresh body cream…

But before she could inquire more, her door was swung open and Cordelia walked in.

She was so caught up into what she was saying that she didn’t notice the “lovers”, till she was near to her bed, seeing not only an awful lot of her naked body, but the start of Michael’s one.

And shame came to her cheeks, in form of a reddish blush.

She could see the disappointment into Cordelia’s eyes, but strangely she didn’t care.

She had gone to bed with the Antichrist just to feel better after she had broken her heart, so…

… it was bad to assume she had some kind of dignity and self-preservation.

-… please, (Y/N) tell me you didn’t sleep with…? – she mumbled, shocked.

-Oh we did more than “sleep”- replied a sleepy voice and behind her, Michael nuzzled her neck skin, his eyes still closed but a touch of smile on his lips, and as much as she hated when he used sarcasm against her, she low key loved it being used against anybody else, it was a very funny show -… and by the way, next time knock, we could have been doing something very different form sleeping-.

-You are not allowed to bring boys back to your room- tried to reprimand her Cordelia.

What she said was true, but she wasn’t a student, anymore, so although it might have been extremely unprofessional to bring Michael back in her room, she was allowed to do her own choices.

-What are you going to do? – she raised up a bit, totally unashamed of her nakedness, wanting to remind Cordelia what she had lost -… punish me? I am not a child Cordelia, I make decisions for my own, I decide who I fuck-.

And this seemed to take Cordelia so so much aback.

She had been always so clean and polished and nice, whenever she was with Cordelia.

Her best smile her sweetest words, and she never dared to disobey her.

But right now, she had enough.

And Cordelia shared her same thought, seeing no way to bring her over to the right side, and instead she just shook her head, delivering a powerful final line:

-You are free to do what you want, but when he breaks your heart, don’t come running to me like a school girl with a crush-.

And there she smirked, no matter the sadness and confusion inside her, choosing to hide them:

-… it’s impossible, my heart is already broken-.

And when Cordelia exited the room, a tang of sadness could be seen in his steps, alongside anger and embarrassment, meanwhile she turned around in the bed, a headache appearing due to all the terrible things she had experienced, in those days.

But before she could go back to bed and hide under the cover, all her bravery disappearing, she heard Landgon stifling a laugh, and this made her send him a confused glare.

She knew he was a freaking sadist, but…

-Oh excuse little old me, I never thought I would see the day when Cordelia’s loyal dog decides to riot against the hand that feeds her- and then his hands disappeared under the cover but she was definitely aware of where they went -… it’s kind of a turn on-.

And she forgot about anything.

Apparently, the best cure for a broken heart was fucking the Antichrist.

Who knew?

---

Hope that you enjoyed it lovelies!

As always, please let me know what you thought about it, any feedback (as long as worded it gently) is very much welcome (whether it is leaving an heart reblog this fic, a comment or a DM or an ask about what you thought about it, everything is welcome)

Also here it is a little list of people who wanted t be tagged here (I am thinking about creating a taglist, so if you want to be in that, shot me a DM or an ask, love you!).

@so-langdon@vampirefairyestelle @sarcasticfuck101 @ahstatejameskai @devilslittlebrat @lindsey3300 @starryeyechae  @raluralu394 @floralpiper @wth-trippy @mollymcbutter99 @writerandee

Love you, lovelies!

-Heco Hansen.

[michael-langdon-appreciation]

How do you think the foursome would react if one of them had to use their safe word ?

Do we want some dark!jim? 😏

The smack reverberates around the entire room. Duncan’s head whips around again, his cheeks two bright messes of red. It takes him a couple of minutes to get his emotions back under control and when he does you can see he’s just barely still with it. His eyes are bloodshot and streaked with tears, Duncan is at his most vulnerable and you are all getting off on seeing your powerful Dom on his knees, his hands tied behind his back and completely at your mercy.

Jim massages his knuckles, having been the last one to deliver that particularly painful backhand. Duncan’s eyes watch Jim’s hands the entire time, sniffing and fighting back a sob. His cheeks almost pulse, the pain receptors going haywire as Jim runs a hand though Duncan’s hair, ‘Finally, we see the great Duncan Shepherd where he belongs.’ Jim is getting off the most, his chest puffed out as he brags his dominion over Duncan. ‘And the sickest part is you fucking love it. Being a whore, on your knees while we slap the living daylights out of you. Jim’s hand yanks Duncan back by the hair, ‘Say it.’

‘What?’ Duncan chokes out, his eyes squeezing shut, a couple more tears leaking out.

‘Tell us all how it feels to be humiliated.’ Jim purrs, ‘To be the one completely used for once. We’re gonna discard you after we’re done playing with you tonight. We might even leave you tied up all night.’

Your eyes slide over to Michael. Your Antichrist has a finger tracing his lips, he stands fully-dressed watching the display before him with caution. He nods imperceptibly, ‘Perhaps that is enough for one night, Jim?’

Jim smirks, ‘Seems he isn’t as tough as we all though.’

‘Apparently not.’

You can see the shame leaking out of Duncan. His cock is so hard he’s salivating for some kind of release, for a touch or even a gaze. You’re sure even the slightest touch would have him cumming by now. You step forwards in front of Jim and take Duncan’s ruined cheeks in your hands, he flinches horribly but tries to correct his impulse, ‘Sorry.’

You peck him on the lips, ‘I know.’ You kiss him again and Duncan melts into your arms.

‘My Y/N,’ He moans, ‘Always the weak one, I just bat my eyes and you cave for me.’

Duncan screams at the sheer unexpectedness of your blow. His whole body rockets to the side as he goes reeling, tears gush from his eyes as you force him back to look at you. ‘Do I look weak?’ You scratch your nails down his cheek, Duncan hissing as you tug at the hyper-sensitive skin, ‘You are being a baby.’ You tell him, ‘I’ve seen you handle more than this at work and you’re giving up.’

You glance lazily back at Jim and then your gaze falls to Michael, ‘Make him bleed.’

‘I plan to.’ Jim saunters over to Michael and takes his hand. Michael’s eyebrows rise in intrigue as Jim wraps his mouth over Michael’s finger, the one containing his favourite ring. Jim pulls it off deftly with his teeth, a move he’s seen you perfect many times and then he’s back in front of Duncan and sliding it onto his own finger.

Duncan’s eyes go large in fright, ‘Jim…no.’

Jim’s eyes are wild, completely caught in the moment. You watch carefully, but Michael has approached now, ‘Perhaps Jim-’

‘Shut up.’ Jim snarls, ‘Or you’ll go next.’

Michael’s mouth closes but his hand takes yours. You squeeze back, taking in Duncan’s fearful gaze.

‘Jim I don’t think I can.’ He pleads, ‘It’s too much. It hurts.’

‘It’s meant to.’ Jim says, ‘Just as it hurts when you fucking stretch my ass till I can’t see properly.’

‘Jim, please.’ Duncan’s voice gets louder as Jim raises his hand, ‘NO! PLEASE! FUCK!’ The ring makes contact, breaking the skin. Duncan spills onto the floor and the scream that rips through his mouth isn’t remotely good, there’s no pleasure in it. Just terror, ‘Pi…pi…’ Duncan can’t get it out, but you know what he’s trying to say immediately. There as only been once incident where you’ve thought to use the Safe Word agreed upon by you all, but you hadn’t needed it in the end, Duncan having taken his cue to stop.

You release his hands, ‘Pineapple, Dunc?’

His hands fly to cup his face, the little cuts bleeding. He nods, ‘Pineapple.’

‘Oh shit.’ Jim sinks down to his knees, ‘I thought you were into it. Duncan, I’m so sorry.’

Duncan wraps his knees up to his chest, he tries to smile to hide his embarrassment, ‘Don’t worry bout it. I’m okay.’

‘You’re not.’ Michael states, bluntly. You and Jim make room for him and Michael sits cross-legged before Duncan, he opens his arms out, ‘Come here.’

Duncan swallows back a sob and then he pushes himself into Michael’s arms. The Antichrist tucks Duncan under his chin, his eyes falling on Jim. ‘It’s not your fault either.’ He says, ‘We saw the sign too and didn’t intervene.’

You nod, stroking Duncan’s hair. Guilt swarms through you, because you were the one who carried it on, who showed Jim it was okay to go further. ‘We’re sorry, baby.’

You puts your arms round Duncan as best as you can and when Jim doesn’t join you, you look back. He looks miserable, near tears himself. You hold your hand out and Jim takes it, ‘I just thought for once it’d be cool to be in control.’ He mutters, ‘Maybe this is why I’m better on the bottom. I can’t control myself, ever.’

‘Don’t be silly’ You encourage, pulling him closer. Duncan’s opened his arms enough for you to get nice and close, you all lie in a line. Michael, then Duncan, then you and finally Jim. You lie there together for a while, none of you speaking as you check the cuts are beginning to heal. Just as you bring up getting the first-aid kit out, Duncan bolts upwards and flees the room.

You stand at once ready to go after him but you can’t move. Michael’s holding you back with his magic, ‘Not yet.’ His eyes show his true sadness, ‘He needs to be alone.’ Those blue eyes take in Jim, ‘He’s forgiven you, that’s not in his head.’ Michael reveals, ‘We need to let him come back to us, in time and he will.’

FOURSOME TAG-LIST: @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul @langdonsinferno@pastel-cloudz @duncvn @misslanabananaa @lovelykhaleesiii@langdonsoceaneyes napping-is-my-favourite @tickled–pinkmoodpoisoning@lvngdvns @ritualmichael @ccodyfern @asstichrist@yourkingcodyfern @langdonsdemon @satcnas @russianspacegeckosexparty @rosy-pugs @luxuryglitterhoe@readsalot73 @astir-bread @ovarydosed @amytakesmanhattan @michael-langdxn @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @hanhanxx@daadddysprincesss @wroteclassicaly@kinlovecody @kylosbabe @americanhorrorstudies @sojournmichael @petersfern-fics @langdonsrapture @wickedlangdon @sassylangdon @confettucini @sammythankyou @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @russianspacegeckosexparty @cryptid-coalition @queencocoakimmie @icylangdon @Sloppy-Wrist @Langdonalien @jimmlangdon @gremlinkween @sodanova 

[gremlinkweenarchive-blog]

Bad Moon Rising: An Extra Chapter

A/N: Yes folks!! Here is an extra chapter of Bad Moon Rising and it has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with the story!!! This is just dirty, nasty, filthy smut for a Valentine’s Day present to my one and only, my sugar plum, my duckie, the fire of my loins, my daddy, my everything, -John Mulaney vc- MY WIFE, @langdonsinferno!!!!!!!! A huge shoutout to @sojournmichael for proof reading this for me!! 

Do you need to have read the rest of BMR to get this? Absolutely not! Just know that Michael is a vampire, Jim’s a merman, and Duncan’s a werewolf. There is also an appearance of a certain goddess of love in here ;) 

word count: 4.8 k of pure fucking filth and some fluffy aftercare at the end

warnings:  Blood play, Wax play, Knife play, Impact play, Bondage, Pansexual Group Sex, Bi!Reader, Exhibitionism, Choking, Roleplay and consensual dub con, Degradation, Cum play, Crying kink, Breeding Kink if you squint, everyone getting dommed by Aphrodite, Knotting, and that’s about it!

tag list: @langdonsinferno, @ccodyfern, @americanhorrorstudies, @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul, @codyfernss, @sojournmichael, @langdonsoceaneyes, @lvngdvns, @wroteclassicaly, @michael-langdon-appreciation, @lovelykhaleesiii, @moonagecordelia, @tickled--pinkmoodpoisoning, and @roxytheimmortal

 The whole thing was Duncan's idea. Jim seemed on board for it, Michael seemed hesitant, and it was a chore and a half to convince her to leave for a weekend. 

"But I need to keep the boat running! I need to keep selling!" 

"Darling, you know money is no object for me. Come on, come to Seattle and spend the weekend with us. There's a party that I think you'll really enjoy. There's an old friend that really wants to meet you." 

So eventually, she agreed, but the curiosity as to who this old friend was was definitely a huge motivation. With Duncan's past and him being what he is, this friend could literally be anything and one. It was exciting. 

Now, what this party was was something that she felt like she shouldn't be surprised, yet she still is. A sex party. Of course this is what Duncan convinced everyone to go to. He had also convinced you to have some one on one with this friend, that he swore it would be worth every moment, and that she could finally explore that kink of her's. You know, the roleplay of not wanting it and then caving in and having your world rocked? Yeah, now was the time to explore that for her. 

She was by herself, the boys leaving her for her fantasy. Everyone was wearing masks and it was slightly disorientating, but there was a certain eroticism to it. The anonymity. She was sipping down a glass of a champagne, trying to calm her nerves when she saw it. A flash of a ruby bracelet dangling off a woman's wrist. That was the sign, that was the friend. Her stomach twisted in knots. 

Her eyes scanned from the bracelet up the arm and to the rest of the woman. Her jaw dropped. She was ... possibly the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She was tall, her long, thick, graceful legs carried her with an inhuman elegance. Her curves were impossibly exaggerated, and while most of her face was obscured, she could see the most attractive and full lips pouting from under the mask. Blonde hair curled like water down her back, framing her features perfectly. She made her way towards her. 

She gulped as the other woman took a seat besides her. "What's a pretty little thing doing here by yourself?" 

It was harrowing. She was tongue tied looking at this woman. "I- I- uh, I'm not alone. My boyfriends are here." 

Her eyes quirked, as if she didn't know that, "Oh? Boyfriends? Managed to wrangle yourself multiple? That's impressive, but I have to ask, no girlfriend or girlfriends?" 

She shook her head and the other leaned in, "Would you like one?" 

Her mind went blank. She knew what Duncan had planned, she was all on board for this kink, but how in the world wide fuck was she supposed to act like she didn't want this. "I don't think they'd appreciate it if I hooked up with someone behind their back," she managed to choke out. 

The other just let out a small tsk. "Honey, I don't see them anywhere," the other's hand fell to her knee, "Plus, there's so many people here, I don't think they'd even catch us." 

This woman's voice was like honey dripping on her ears and she was already getting light headed with arousal. "I still feel wrong ab-" she was cut off as the other's hand started trailing up her leg, and just for the sake of the game, she clamped her legs shut around her hand. 

"Oh sweet girl, maybe I can convince you otherwise," the other smiled sweetly. She flipped up the long part of her asymmetrical skirt to loosen something. The other woman was pulling an elegant knife to hold hold against her throat in a loose short of threat. "How does this work?" 

All she could do was open her legs for the other's hand to work her way up to tease her bare core.

"Hmmm, acting all innocent while at a party like this, and not wearing any panties." The other leaned to press her against the couch, "You can drop the act, little girl. We all know what type of slut you are." 

Her folds were already wet, and the other had no problem slipping two fingers into her, curling them expertly to hit that spot inside of her. 

"You let three men fuck you all at once, and not just human males, but two hot blooded creatures who half the time just want to fill your empty womb with their seed, and the other just wants to drain you of all your blood. Tell me, how does it feel to have one stretching your cunt, and your ass, and your throat all at once?" The other's fingers were working her even harder, building a rhythm of fucking, then just curling, massaging her g-spot. Her brain short circuited for a moment. 

Then, the other's fingers were pulling out of her, the knife was pressed against her throat harder, and a sharp pain emanated when the other's hand came to slap down on her pussy. "I asked you a question, slut." 

A gasp escaped her throat, god this was everything she could ever ask for. "It's so much," she panted out, "It hurts, but the stretch is so good, they use me up, sometimes by the end of it, I'm crying, but they're always so sweet after we're done." 

The other's hand resumed her rhythm and the knife was lowered slightly. "That's a good little slut. Letting others use you for their pleasure past the point of it hurting you." The other's thumb started rubbing circles on her clit, making her back arch, her breathing turning into pants. 

"I've barely even touched you and you're already a mewling mess, no wonder how you managed to capture the attention of all those beasts." The other's knife dragged down her skin, leaving a trail of irritated skin in its wake. When the blade got to the fabric, with a simple flick of the other's wrist, it was shredding the fabric of her dress. This is when she became intimately aware of the other people watching them, clearly enraptured with such a display. She was naked for their eyes, and there was nothing she could do about it. 

It was too much, too much the hand working what felt like literal magic on her and the eyes devouring her helpless frame, offering no help and just watching her be taken by this woman, all happening at once, and without much warning, a hurried and small orgasm wracked her body. It took her by surprise, but she knew there was going to be a punishment from this woman. 

The other woman let out an amused hum, but she could see the anger in her eyes. "Did you just cum without permission, little slut?" All she could answer with was a weak nod. 

She felt herself get yanked onto the other's lap and flipped around, ass up in the air across the other's lap. The other took the ruined scraps of her dress and ripped long strips off as to tie her arms behind her back. The restraints started at her wrists and went up the entire length of her forearms, keeping her totally bound. "So, this little slut thinks she can just take any orgasm she wants? Like her body doesn't belong to any higher being than her lowly little human self? Hmm? You're a human fuck toy for us to play with, don't forget it." She ran her hand down the flesh of her ass as if deciding something, "Count for every hit, and you will thank me after every two hits." 

Great, something that required thinking. This woman definitely knew what she was doing. She knew how to play the game. 

The first hit was a jolt to her system, but she managed to squeak out a one, and when the next, a breathy, "Two. Thank you." Came out. Okay, all she had to do was keep that in mind. With the even numbers, say thank you. Slick was already gathering at the apex of her thighs, but it was starting to creep down, the slick creating thin lines when her legs separated in response to the hits. Her cunt was practically begging to be touched at this point. 

Fifteen. Fifteen smacks to each side of her ass, and she was shaking at this point. If there was one more hit, she might have cum on the other's legs right there. It hurt to move, but the other woman was rubbing soothing circles into her skin. A hum escaped the other's mouth. "No wonder why they're all falling over you. You take everything one is willing to give you, and you still practically beg for more, pain or pleasure. Here, little one." The other  was a bit softer now as her hands pushed her forward, face down and ass up, and off of her lap. 

The other splayed her open and her tongue dug in, tantalizing licks to her outer lips before working her way in. Teasing licks to her clit, swipes over her entrance before lips wrapped around her clit, sucking with just the right pressure to make her see stars. She was practically screaming into the couch cushions, giving the others quite a show. 

Something, seemed familiar though? The technique? The way her lips and tongue worked against her felt familiar. It dawned on the human. It was the same technique that Michael and Duncan used anytime they went down on her. The same moves that made her forget her own name, the ones that drove her over the edge again and again, but somehow better. Inhuman. Even more so than her two lovers. It clicked. They both learned from the same woman, the one only one that made sense that she could fuck someone better than them. It was Aphrodite. The Goddess of Love was currently working her cunt and she knew that she wasn't going to last long. 

"Oh god, Aphrodite, I'm going to cum," she moaned loudly, and the goddess grinned. 

"Look at you, little girl," she teased as she spoken against her cunt, sending small shock waves through her body. "How clever of you, to figure out who I am. For that, you get to cum." Her mouth went back to working her core, making delicious moans fall out of the human, not caring who saw her at this point. The whole room was looking at her, and she cautioned a glance, seeing how many people were touching themselves at the sight of her. It was enough that she was spasming against Aphrodite's mouth, earning a smirk from her. 

The girl was exhausted now, but Aphrodite didn't care about that. The night was young, and she still had much to experience. The goddess rose, sheathing her expensive knife, and easily picked her up, throwing her over her shoulder, and strolling casually to one of the rooms. She was tired, and with her arms bound, there wasn't much for her to do but to accept this. She looked like some spoils of war that Aphrodite was taking just to ravish her more in private. 

She was tossed on the bed and Aphrodite smiled down at her, brushing her hair out of her face. "Oh you pretty little thing. What did those idiots do to deserve you?" 

She was pulling her dress off now, and the sight was nearly blinding with how perfect she was. Thick thighs, luscious curves, she smooth skin. It made her shrink a little in her spot on the bed. Aphrodite noticed his and there was a soft smile on her lips. 

"My darling," she purred as she got on the bed and crawled up the length of her body, "You are perfect the way you are. If I wasn't enraptured with your beauty," Aphrodite stroked her cheek softly, "I wouldn't have been begging for an audience with you. Never doubt your beauty." Their lips met in a soft moment, her lips being the softest things she had ever felt in her life. She was weak and she needed more. 

Aphrodite giggled as the girl nipped her lips. "Oh, darling, there is plenty of time to get rough tonight, take your time." She kissed the other's neck slowly, letting the heat sink into the other. Her lips were soft, so soft, it felt like clouds were caressing her neck, before teeth came came down suddenly on the sensitive skin. She kissed her way up to murmur in her ear, "It's all about the contrast." 

With that, the goddess continued to move up the bed until she placed a thigh on with side of her face, the goddess's divine cunt just mere inches above her face. "Now, you be a good little slut for me, and make mommy cum. How well you do now effects how much you get treated later when your other lovers come to visit us." With that, Aphrodite lowered herself down on her face. 

Her tongue immediately starts going to work, emulating what she's learned from Michael, Duncan, and the goddess currently riding her face. She earns a pleased moan. "That's it, what a perfect little slut you are. You've been paying attention." She starts sucking on Aphrodite's clit and she can feel the goddess start to back against her face. 

She gets lost in the sensation, just licking and sucking. Her lover tastes as divine as one would expect her to. The only thing that matters to her right now is to keep the woman above her moaning as sweetly as she is. Feeling the thick fingers tease at her entrance makes her jump, and she can hear Duncan's laughter. 

"Your lover's mouth is completely wasted on your cocks," Aphrodite pants out, a teasing grin on her face. 

"Well, you've never had your cock down her throat so I think we can just agree to disagree there, darling," Duncan muses before meeting her mouth in a passionate kiss. There are hands over the girl's skin and soft kisses trailing down her thighs. Michael. 

Duncan's lips moved down to take one of Aphrodite's nipples into his mouth. She moaned loudly before she looked at the fourth member of this relationship. "And you must be Jim, come here darling," she moaned as Duncan bit her, "Let me get a look at you." 

The look quickly turned into a heated kiss. She started sucking on Aphrodite's clit, feeling how close her body was to cumming. Suddenly, Michael bit down into her thigh to drink from her femoral artery. She groaned harshly into the goddess's cunt, being the final thing that she needed to push her over. She was grinding her hips into her face, riding out her orgasm. 

Michael was content, taking large gulps in time with her heart beat. Her hands released from Aphrodite's hips and went to Michael's hair to pull him closer. There was something terribly erotic about having Michael feed from her. His mouth finally released from her leg when she was starting to get light headed. 

Before he could even lick his lips, Aphrodite was pulling him into a kiss. She moaned at the taste of blood on his tongue. The blood smeared as their lips worked together, taking time to relish in the taste on both of their mouths. Their tongues worked in a lazy battle of dominance, neither one caring in particular who came out on top. 

When they broke apart, they both licked their lips. 

"Oh, my sweet," Aphrodite spoke to her, "Every single part of you is absolutely delicious. I'm surprised you aren't one of my creations." That earned a bright red blush. 

Jim was laying by her side, pulling her into a kiss before she could react. She smiled and melted into the kiss, allowing Jim to pull her on top of him. Her hips started grinding into him, and he pulled down the briefs that were keeping him modest, already ridged and ready for her. There was no need for any foreplay by now. 

She hurried to sink herself on Jim's cock, both of them groaning at the slow motion. It wasn't long though, before Jim was snapping his hips up and she was meeting every single thrust, both of them letting their moans drip deliciously from their mouths. 

Aphrodite sighed, watching the pair of lovers, "Isn't it just beautiful?" She mused. 

"I could think of a few other beautiful things that we could do," Duncan murmured, leaning in for a kiss. 

She stopped him with a hand on her throat. "Did I say you could touch me, Wolf Pup?" She squeezed slightly and as her eyes turned to him to see him melting at the contact. She squeezed harder. 

"What do you think, Kitten?" her eyes shifted to Michael, "I ride him until he sees stars and you fuck that pretty little mouth of his since he's so fond of running it?" 

Michael smiled, "I think that sounds like a fantastic idea, Goddess." 

She smiled as she pushed Duncan down to the mattress. Michael took his position straddling his shoulders and yanking on his hair so his mouth was right against his cock, and as much as Duncan hated being in this position, he was gladly taking Michael's cock, lavishing the hand with languid licks while looking up through his lashes at Michael. It was such a beautiful sight, but Michael wanted to see tears falling from his eyes. He pulled Duncan's head forward roughly, and he gladly took Michael's length, cheeks hollowing out as he sucked and bobbed his head up and down the length. He moaned loudly feeling Aphrodite mounting him. She wasted no time, bouncing up and down on his cock. Jim couldn't help but watch the sight as the human girl kissed on his neck. 

It was cute to watch Duncan work his mouth over him, but Michael definitely needed more. He started thrusting into his mouth, making him moan and then gag as Michael hit the back of this throat, but he didn't care. He pushed right past Duncan's gag reflex and to his throat. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes, from the brutal fucking of his throat and the fast pace that Aphrodite was taking, but he didn't break eye contact with Michael, letting him see the fucked out expression on his face.

"You're such a pretty bitch, Duncan." Michael gloated, earning a whine from the other man, making Michael moan as it reverberated around his cock. Aphrodite was panting, always loving the feeling of Duncan stretching her. He was such an exceptional fit for her. 

The tears spilt over and were running down Duncan's cheeks now, and that's all it took for Michael to cum down his throat, leaving Duncan no other option but to swallow it all up. Michael pulled out of his mouth with a pop and leaned down, licking the tears off of Duncan's face, groaning at the salty taste. 

Michael got off of him to turn his attention to the other two.

Duncan looked at Aphrodite, and she smirked, feeling a certain part of him starting to expand. "My my, Duncan. Are trying to knot me because it's close to your rut or is it just being in my presence?" She taunted him, she knew the answer. Being in her presence brought out the most animalistic aspects of people out. Evidence being the way Duncan's cock was swelling even though he was definitely too far out from his rut for that or by the way Jim just bit at the human's collar bone with his sharp teeth, drawing blood and Michael was immediately latching on to drink from the wound. 

An idea came to her mind, "Has Y/N taken your knot?" and he shook his head. 

She grabbed his cock just at the top of his knot and she lifted herself off, making me cry out in frustration. "Save it for your little human slut. I want to see her take her first knot. I want you to fill up her pretty little womb. See if you can make it swell." All he could do was whine in agreement, just the thought of that had his cock twitching dangerously close. 

Jim was almost done with her now, he had her on her back now as his hips pistoned in and out of her, Michael as still sucking on her collarbone and his hand was in between the two, rubbing circles on her clit. With a desperate shout, she came undone, her pussy tightening around Jim's length, milking his release. 

They were panting, but Aphrodite gently pulled Jim from her, she had plans for this little girl. Her head lowered between her legs, tongue tasting her used pussy and Jim's cum, making the other call out loudly, still being so sensitive. She collected as much of the merman's essence on her tongue as she could and she crawled up to the other's mouth. 

The men all stared, enraptured as Aphrodite slipped Jim's cum into her mouth, their tongues tangled together, the cum being shared between them. She moaned deeply, tasting Aphrodite, herself, her blood, and Jim all in one. The sticky cum lubricated their kiss and some ran down both of their chins. Aphrodite broke the kiss and a thin string of the cum kept them connect as they both looked over at the boys, all of them staring with wide open mouths. 

Aphrodite crawled behind her and got herself situated at the headboard of the bed and pulled the girl against her by her neck, letting her grip tighten a bit, letting her know this wasn't an option, between her legs. Her back was flushed against the goddess's chest and the goddess used her legs to spread the other's keeping them trapped open with an iron like hold over her. She whined, she was so sensitive, but with her arms still bound behind her back, there wasn't much that she could do. 

"Duncan, dear. Come here. You know what I want you to do," the goddess hummed, and she was getting a little nervous at the words, but Aphrodite just stroked her hair, "It'll be okay, little one. You'll be cumming harder than you ever had. Just relax." 

Jim and Michael realized that they were own their own for this, which they quickly were on each other, wrestling with each other. Being in the goddess's presence had awoken something in Jim, easily pinning Michael to the bed as his teeth were pressing on Michael's throat, threatening damage if Michael moved too much. Michael relaxed into his hold and Jim gingerly let his throat go. This was not the same Jim that Michael was used to and he found himself spreading his legs for him. 

Duncan had crawled up her length, pressing kisses into her neck as he pulled her down just a bit to get a better angle to fuck her in. Aphrodite leaned over to the bedside table to pick up one of the candles lighting the room. With an amused sigh, she poured some of the hot wax that had collected down Duncan's back, right as he was preparing to enter the other, making him gasp and his hips to jet forward, taking her much rougher than he had intended to, but it just earned a languid moan from the girl. 

The little break gave Duncan a chance to relax, to collect himself a bit, but he was quickly snapping his hips into her, not giving her a moment to breathe. Aphrodite poured some of the wax down her chest, watching the girl twist in agony and pleasure. She poured a bit of the wax on each of her nipples, relishing in the high pitched squeals she let out. Then the goddess was rolling each one to watch the wax crack as soon as it was dry. 

With each administration from Aphrodite, her cunt was clentching down on Duncan, and he had no idea how long he could last. He looked over once he felt a hand hit his arm and then grab onto him. Michael had his ass up, head tossed back as Jim rutted into him. Jim had his teeth sunk into Michael's flesh, deep black blood running down his chest onto the blanket. He was holding onto Duncan for a life line, something to keep him grounded in reality. It just served to make Duncan harder, his knot starting to inflate. 

She tensed underneath him, not sure what that sensation is. "Just relax," Aphrodite cooed as a hand came down to rub her clit. 

Duncan growled loudly, and it wasn't just a normal growl, it was deep and animalistic, the sound that came from his throat when he was in wolf form. Her anxiety sky rocketed and she felt his sharp, inhuman teeth, nip at her neck, a warning to stay in the same place. It was like both Jim and Duncan were feeling symptoms of their ruts in the presence of the goddess, and Aphrodite was absolutely delighted. 

The knot was starting to catch, and Duncan's pants and thrusts were becoming erratic. It hurt, but it was making her toes curl. "That's it baby girl," Aphrodite cooed, "Take his knot. Take all of his cum. Let him fill that pretty cunt of yours, and if any luck, he'll even be filling your womb." 

Shock filled her system and she was about to say something, his knot? What the hell was she talking about? What did that mean? 

Then she felt it. He thrusted into her with one last loud growl into her ear and she felt what was catching on her entrance pushing into her, expanding painfully. It hurt, but the stimulation had her head reeling. Aphrodite slapped her clit, harshly for good measure, and she was screaming and spasming around Duncan's knot, though there was barely any room for her cunt to even twitch. It was blissful agony. Tears sprung to her eyes, but Aphrodite was quick to kiss them away. There was the dull ache between her legs as she felt his cock twitching, releasing torrents of cum into her. This was more than she was ever used to from him. She whimpered. 

"It's okay darling, just accept it," Aphrodite cooed as she massaged her breast, making her keen at the feeling. Duncan was panting heavily, resting his body weight against the two women, but he left lazy and soft kisses on her skin. She whimpered with every moment from him, so he made a conscious effort not to move his hips at all. 

The sound of Michael and Jim groaning loudly caught all of their attention as both of them came. Michael collapsed in a pool of his own cum, but he could hardly care. All of them had blown pupils and they were all slowly trying to recover. Jim got off of Michael, the both of them groaning again, softly this time. 

They both scooted up to lay closer to the other three. Michael studied how they were laying, confused for a moment before it clicked. "Jesus Christ, Duncan, did you knot her?" He asked, a little perturbed, many concerned with her safety and comfort. 

Aphrodite smiled softly, "Oh Michael, you are so protective," she stroked his cheek and he softened a little, "I told him to do it. I know she could take it. Couldn't you, darling?" She asked softly. "I couldn't help myself, I wanted to see her take a knot for the first time." 

She nodded in response. 

"How are you feeling?" Jim asked as he laid his head on top of Michael's arm so he could watch everything happening. 

"Really full," she groaned with a bit a laugh, and everyone either smiled or chuckled. 

Duncan gently kissed her on the lips, "You sweet girl," he murmured, "You took all of me." His voice reflected his wonder at this girl. 

"You have quite the amazing lover here, boys," Aphrodite smiled as she started playing with her hair. 

The pressure was starting to lessen and with a light tug, Duncan pulled free with a pop, making her moan as she felt a flood of cum fall from her. The other's eyed her hungrily, but they all kept themselves back, knowing she needed time to recover. 

Duncan climbed off of her and let the two women join Michael and Jim before he took up his position behind Aphrodite, holding her close. Aphrodite easily ripped the fabric that was still holding her arms back. She was snuggled safely between Michael and Aphrodite, she felt both Jim and Duncan's hands coming to her, caressing her gently. Jim nuzzled his face into Michael's neck and he sighed happily. With these sweaty and hot bodies, for a moment, just a moment, he could pretend he shared their warmth. 

"Well, I suggest we all rest up," Aphrodite gave the human woman a playful smirk, "Before round two."