They Don’t Make ‘em Like This Anymore Mane

I know it's not much but I recently passed 100 notes on my billy loomis smut... I just wanna say, YALL SOME WHORES!! the smut fic, man. really?!?

I mean my first fic which was poly cassie and maddy passed 90 too and I'm so happy

but anyways, I dont think yall know how much it means when u guys comment or reblog my works, or like even spam liking, it means so fucking much especially since I started writing on this blog not even a week ago

I'm so thankful for all of you <33

Chew On My Heart

a stu macher x fem!reader one shot requested by the lovely anon who wanted a pining Stu

pairing: Stu Macher x fem!reader word count: 5.6k (I’m sorry it’s so long I get carried away) warnings: s m u t (18+!!!!!!!!), longing, fluff, some angst I guess. you wanted a pining stu? here he is. 

masterlist HERE

I wanna be in your touch, sleep is so tough You’re burning up my mind What would it feel like if you tore me apart? Come on chew on my heart Come on chew on my heart

Billy had been clear about sticking to the fucking plan and Stu, for the most part, was okay with it. More than okay with it, he was happy to oblige. Hell, he’d even come up with a few of his own ideas of just how they were going to go about that fateful night and how it was all going to point to Mister Prescott as the deranged serial killer.

But, like most plans, there was bound to be some bumps along the way. Snags, of sorts, that they were forced to strategize around in order to make the night go accordingly. For the most part, they were easy enough to navigate and simple enough to overlook depending on how insignificant of a detail they were.

But, there was one snag that neither Billy nor Stu had anticipated. One snag that Stu in particular, couldn’t quite fathom.

You.

You weren’t supposed to fucking be there.

Keep reading

the way im so tempted to start writng for bam margera.... i have an idea for a long ass angst fic for him but idk..

SHOULD I!??!?!

HELLO I have been stalking you page for a while and then I see this and I'm so happy because I wanted to request, what would it be like dating newt but then a greenie comes and like starts flirting with you and newt is about to step up to help you but then you just like punch the guy and he like passes out, but remember you don't have to do this if you want or you don't have to get it done right away but I even just want to say thank you for reading this have a good [day- afternoon- night] <3

newt x FEM!reader

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒! none

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒! swearing because I refuse to say shuck, catcalling, greenie doesn't get the hint, kinda short??

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒! on mobile, format might be weird. lowercase intended, unedited, double periods intended

you had arrived in the glade shortly after alby did, so you had always been used to greenies showing interest in you. as boy after boy arrived, it had almost become a game. a greenie would arrive and see you as soon as the box was opened, and they would be told off by all the others, whom had already discovered that you werent interested in any of the boys of the glade. after each boy was told that there wasn't a chance in hell that you would be with them, and after you had told them no about 50 times, they had all given up.

but that all changed the next time the box came up. the greenie that inhabited the box was newt, the only greenie that you would ever be interested in. as soon as he came up in the box, you knew he was different. his blonde hair was the first thing you noticed, but his accent followed closely after. you loved his accent, it was the most bizarre thing you had ever experienced, due to not having any memory of the outside world. well, besides your whole situation. you still played hard to get despite your growing feelings towards him. every time you had work, you asked newt to accompany you. you blamed it on the fact that he was a good worker, but really, you just wanted to be around him as much as you could.

when newt finally asked you to be his girlfriend, you were doing your work in the garden. he had already finished his work for the day so he was standing near you, giving you playful words of encouragement every time you yelled that you were tired. you two were talking about the gladers, and newt had asked if you would ever date one of them. you looked up at him and wiped the sweat off of your forehead with a dirty hand, before sighing and looking back at the ground. "well, no, but there's one guy.. I don't think he'd ever be with me though, so.." you paused and decided not to continue. he looked at you with a fake smile on his face, and raised an eyebrow. "oh yeah? well who is it?" when you stayed silent he bugged you some more, pleading with you to tell him. "oh come on, you know I won't tell anyone!" you sighed and stood up before walking away.

newt walked quickly after you and grabbed your hand, turning you back to him, before apologizing to you. "look, I never meant to upset you..". you took a deep breath while newt paused. he began speaking again, "I just, I really like you and I want you to be my girlfriend.."

your eyes went wide and lit up before you plastered kisses across his face and screamed, hugging him as tightly as you could. everyone in the glade heard you scream and raced over to you, expecting to see you being attacked by something, but when they saw you with your lips on newts and your arms around his shoulders, most of them walked away with a frown on their face. the boys still held hope that one day you just might open up to one of them and give in to their advances, but not one of them thought it would be newt. alby patted newt on the back and congratulated the two of you, and gally stood back with a smirk on his face as he chuckled. "I see the beast was finally tamed". you giggled and turned to him, rolling your eyes playfully before walking back to the garden to return to your chores.

many months and many greenies later, it was a hot day and you and newt were trying to escape the sun by laying under a tree in the forest. you had been expecting the box to come up any minute, so since you two had nothing to do, you had been tasked with waiting and watching for it. when it finally came up and the boy came to his senses a few hours later, he came up to you and asked for your name. you told him it was y/n, and thankfully, alby came up and dragged you away before he could bother you anymore.

after that, the boy would never leave you alone. even though he knew you were with newt, it didn't stop him from shouting at you as you were working. "hey, pretty thing! where's your guard dog? you get bored of him yet? ill show you a good time!" you groaned and rolled your eyes, flipping him off as you walked past him. you walk up to newt, who wasn't too far away. he was out of eyeshot but not earshot, so he had heard what the greenie said and was about to go stand up to him when you stopped him. it wasn't worth it.

however, the greenie seemed to have a different idea. "come on baby, you know newt could never make you feel as good as I could!". that was your last straw, the boy had been harassing you ever since he arrived and you thought he would stop once he met newt, but you decided you needed to take matters into your own hands. walking up to him, you cracked your knuckles and drew your fist back, before connecting it with his nose. you heard a loud crack and a few boys ran up to you to see what happened, but they understood when they saw a sick grin on your face and the knocked out greenie on the ground with a bloody, broken nose.

newt laughed and grabbed you by the waist, dragging you off to who knows where. he had never been more in love than he had just then, and even if he had, he hadn't remembered it.. so..

I just wanna say jules is a fucking hypocrite

like, she cheated on rue the first chance she got

and CASUALLY SAID she was in love with the girl she fucked

but got upset when rue introduced her to elliot???? like wtf.

I actually hate jules

Hey there! If your request are still open, can I ask something about König being married to a very caring and lovely civilian wife and having a one year's old little girl?

I love this big boy very much and I think he deserves having a family like this!

Thank you!

Ordinary Things Like Love

Lips against his, drowning in the trench of your spilling glory, swallowing your sounds and basking under the unfurling burn of desire.

König has fitted himself to you, curling over the bent of your back just as the black of the night weaves itself to the moon. Every night changing, every night willing.

or: König is a husband and a father.

an: i like this big boy with mommy issues, also their kid isn't one-year-old but everything else should follow the request!

i. König finds love in the shape of your hands, oozing with care and ready to cradle he who has done nothing but harm. Arms spread, prepared to catch him as he crashes back into the stratosphere of home with the trailblaze of war still shadowing his silhouette.

He finds love in your hands, the lined mosaic that time has made of your flesh. Fingers laced, your thumb brushing over the junction of his index and thumb as the warm light of morning washes its golden kiss across your skin.

Lips against his, drowning in the trench of your spilling glory, swallowing your sounds and basking under the unfurling burn of desire.

He has fitted himself to you, curling over the bent of your back just as the black of the night weaves itself to the moon. Every night changing, every night willing.

"G'morning, love," your voice cracks with a yawn, light against the expanse of your back. Your spine arches, dips like a flowing river in the garden of Eden.

Your eyes swim calmly, safe, content, and best of all, happy.

A hand reaches towards his chest, pressing it against where his heart hammers to the beat of yours. When you near him, he presses a kiss to your nose and revels in the laugh that it earns him.

Whispering, he mouths against the fragility of peace in your bedroom. "Sit up, sunflower. I have your breakfast."

—

ii. König finds traces of godhood in the mundane fancies that grace the four walls of home. In the coffee as he waits for it to cool, in the tender ache of his thighs from a night of loving, in the gentle roll of the creek— in the magic love has done to this wretched house.

These are the walls that birthed him, where his parents screamed till their throats bled hurt.

These are the floorboards that raised him, scarred brittle child bones, the very same that crumbled his boyhood and made it a story for the news.

The front page headline burnt in the back of his eyelids read: 29-year-old woman taken into custody for charges of abuse against 8-year-old son.

Now, mortality is not so much a sin as it is a fact of normalcy. He does not have to plead to every atom that composes the holy breath of god to help him when the door creaks open and his mother's footsteps sound from the entrance.

"Vati!" A voice calls, all young and warm. König looks over to see his daughter's mudded feet by the doorway, hair tousled, grin wide and spirit alive.

He feels a little guilty for the envy that aches in his chest but, most of all, he is relieved that he and his daughter do not have matching wounds.

The ones he bears are enough.

If he'd been crucified with his mother's rage to spare his own child the burden then it'd all been well and worth it.

(He'd do it all over again. A thousand times.)

"Look what I found, Vati! Look! Look!" She holds up a green cat eye marble, a speck of sun running across the jade sphere.

He covers a chuckle, pools of blue creasing as he rises from his seat with a quiet grunt. "I'll be right there, petal."

She frowns up at him, strands of hair the same shade as yours covering a portion of her soft face, a crease in her brow that König has half the thought to smooth a finger over. "Where's Mutter?"

"Mama is sleeping, darling."

"But Mama is always awake to cook me breakfast!" There's a pout in her voice, as if a fundamental part of life has been pulled from her feet without warning.

"Not when I'm home, petal." His answering smile makes the argument dwindle down, as if he's just instilled another law of physics as true as the sun rising with angel wings across the horizon.

"But I wanna show her what I found.." she mumbles as he lifts her up to sit on the wide planes of his shoulders.

"We'll show her later, darling," he says, thinking of your bare skin hidden under soft bed sheets. "Now, tell papa what you've been busying yourself with all morning."

—

iii. König finds peace at the sight of you peeling clementines, bathed in the warm slanted light of afternoon gold as it floods the house through the windows.

"Welcome back, you two." Your voice leads him like spring, pulling him in through the vines you've rooted in his heart.

Through the cracks of his ribs, flowers bloom. Rosemary, lavender, bluebells, sunflowers.

Your kisses ruin him, mortal hands coming to cup his cheeks, running your palms across his stubble to hold the curve of his jaw.

And then finally, finally, you kiss him. Molding your lips to rest against his, the taste of citrus on your tongue and the smell of clementine on your breath. His soul blooms, and König is half-convinced he had never truly lived before you.

That he had unknowingly been starving before you fed him with the ripe harvest of spring.

"Blegh!" Your daughter breaks the moment, hands slapped across her eyes and the two of you part brimming with laughter.

König thinks, holding his daughter and his wife, that this must be what love feels like.

Ordinary things that you long will never end.

—

iv. An unsent letter hidden under a drawer reads:

Hello, mother

You have not raised me with love.

But know that I have made something of your violence, of the boy you left at grandmother's doorstep.

You will not be invited to my wedding. But know that it'll be beautiful. It'll be beautiful because it is her who I will be waiting at the altar for.

It'll be beautiful because she is nothing like you.

Truly, your son.

yes.

you guys know that the reblog function is the main feature of this site right ? its that little recycle looking symbol at the bottom next to the like button, you can add a comment if you want you can write something in the tags that your followers and the op will see. its like the main feature of this site

im not trying to sound rude in saying this but i have had 5 people with completely empty blogs follow me in the last hour or so and like im sure that makes sense on instagram or something but here it just makes you look like a bot account here and people will block you under that assumption. go reblog a post you like. go reblog an image of a snail

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒! death, a ton of angst. reader mourns stu's death, writes him a letter to help the grieving process, cussing.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒! on mobile, format might be weird. lowercase intended, unedited, double periods intended. I love writing angst and this was a great fic idea

stu x gn!reader

When you first found out about stu's death, you didnt believe it. you couldn't believe it. it just wasnt possible.

until the next day at school, when you didnt see stu, billy, or tatum, and sidney and randy both refused to talk to you.

they thought you were a monster because you were dating stu

even though you didnt even know stu was behind the mask

it hurt, it really fucking hurt.

you had nobody to talk to, and the entire town was against you.

weren't they supposed to be helping you? comforting you about the death of your boyfriend even if he was a killer? I mean, you didnt even know about it.

shouldn't they have been consoling you? even if they were lying through their teeth, shouldnt they have been telling you how sorry they were that your boyfriend turned out to be a murderer?

you had always hated woodsboro and the people in it, but now it was worse.

now you wanted to strike a match and set the whole fucking town ablaze.

they didnt even know it was billy's fault. you knew him well, he would have never even done that shit if it weren't for that cocksucking bitch billy.

you were angry, so fucking angry.

you got a therapist after a couple weeks of crying every day and not doing anything unless your mother dragged you out of bed.

your therapist told you that the best way to deal with your situation, that being having your boyfriend, the love of your life, ripped from your grasp way, way, way too soon, was to write him a letter

you were confused, how could you write him a letter if he was dead?

you had already recieved his ashes, you and his parents being the only people that showed up to his funeral

even though they were late, you still found it nice that they showed up.

back to the letter thing, your therapist told you to write a letter to him, assuming that he could read it in the afterlife, and then keep it or dump it in the sea with his ashes.

you chose to keep the letter. you chose to also keep his ashes, his parents didnt want them.

but the letter went something like this,

shit, I dont even know if this is going to work.. whatever, let's hope it does.

stu macher, the love of my life. i dont even know where to begin... from the moment I first met you, I knew you would be mine someday. ever since we met on that playset when we were seven, i knew that i would fall in love with you. and when I first realized that I had fallen in love with you, it was because of a feeling I got, not a thought about how cute you were, or how nice your shirt was, or how kind you were to me, it was the feeling that I was finally safe with someone. you made me feel safe after so many years of hating everything. it sounds stupid but I dont think it is.

when you kissed me for the first time on those swings at the same park we met at, 7 years later, I felt like nothing could ever tear us apart, like we'd be together forever. but now you're gone, and suddenly i cant find peace anymore. I cant sleep without dreaming of you, I cant eat without thinking about us cooking in my kitchen, and i cant drink anything without thinking of the stupid drinking games we would play at your stupid parties.

why did you make my life so wonderful? did you know you would kill every bit of my happiness eventually? did you know that you would leave so soon?

why did you do it? why'd you kill those people? now everyone hates you for what you did. I hate you for what you did. I know it wasnt your fault, but I cant help it.

I dont go outside anymore. every time I step off my porch, I can't help but remember our dates where we sat in the field near your house and looked up at the sky for hours.

sidney and randy hate me now, but I cant blame them. they say i was dating a monster. I dont think you're a monster..

I dont know how I'm going to recover from this, but I know I'll have to.

eventually.

I dont want to forget you.

but what if I do?

what if I forget what we had? what if I forget how your stupid cologne smells? how you feel in my arms, how your lips felt on mine.. I dont want to forget.

I dont want to move on. my mother says I have to, that I need to find someone else to take my mind off of you. I screamed at her, told her to fuck herself and that I hoped her husband died so she felt how much it hurt. I dont feel bad. I dont regret saying it.

I hate you, stu macher.

I'll never fucking forgive you for what you did to me.

and most of all, I hate that I still love you.

yours forever, y/n.

after you wrote it, you felt better. you felt like he was reading it over your shoulder the whole time.

you were still upset though.

a few months later, you accepted the fact that stu would never come back. he was gone for good.

it hurt, but you got accepted it.

and you may have accepted it, but you never truly got over it.

stu was truly the love of your life.

okay so I'm like totally ignoring my drafts rn and I'm tempted to write an angst fic about reader dealing with stu's death and finding out he was ghostface...

what better way to deal with a bad day, amirite?!?!??!

So I know you already answered a question about Y/n going into headspace. But could you like actually make an imagine about it. Like them having sex (like rough rough sex) and then Y/n goes into headspace and the aftermath of having sex with her still in the headspace. You get me?? If you could that'd be awesome but you don't have to.

i have the worst case of writer’s block but i hope this is good! it was both hot and cute to write.

in which you go into subspace

You weren’t neglected. You know you weren’t. Michael dotes on you like a princess and gives you his undivided attention always. But the past week, he had been going out with his friends. At first, you’d basically convinced him to go. He always skips just to be with you and you’d started to feel bad about taking him away from his friends and their guy nights. So you’d told him to go, to have fun. That you’d be fine, you’d wait for him when he came back.

You just didn’t expect it would turn into a guy week where they went out every night. Which also incidentally meant you hadn’t had a night with him in a week. And you hadn’t had sex in a week. And suddenly, against your reason, you felt neglected all the same. You missed him deeply and frankly, you were starting to get frustrated. 

But maybe it was a bit selfish to practically hang from him, your arms tangled around his body as he got ready to leave. His friends were waiting but you really couldn’t care less. Especially when he looked so good, all dressed up and ready. 

“Why don’t you stay home tonight?” You whined, rubbing your body against his just slightly. 

But maybe he knew what you were doing because he picked you up easily, holding you at eye level so your legs wrapped around his waist and your hands moved into his hair. He knew if he let you do whatever it was you were trying, he’d give into you and he’d have some pissed-off and abandoned friends on his hands. But as he took in your pretty face, it started to matter less and less to him. Yet, he tried to be strong anyway. 

“Ashton told me I can’t bail. I’m supposed to get there in ten minutes.”

But as you kissed him, you didn’t seem to take that into account. Usually, he was in this position, seducing you while you were the voice of reason. But now it was switched. 

“But daddy…” You whined again and at the sound of that word leaving your mouth, Michael cursed under his breath. If there was any uncertainty of what exactly it was you wanted, it was made clear right then.

Before he could respond, breathe out your name in a warning, you wiggled to be set back down, and when you were, back down to reaching just below his chest and craning your head up to look at him. Leaving him staring down at you as you looked at him with the big, naive-looking eyes that always had him weak, playing up the innocence you knew turned him on like no other. 

“It’s been so long. Wouldn’t you rather stay home and fuck my pussy.” Your hand was already gripping his girth through his jeans, rubbing and pumping him already. “I’ve been so wet all these days.” 

“Y/N…” Michael said your name like it was a curse word. He’d be an idiot to deny you and normally he’d already have you naked on your bed but after so many nights of Ashton’s teasing that he’d bail out sooner or later for you, he had wanted to prove the jackass wrong. 

Yet as he took a hold of your wrists, reluctantly, you already seemed to anticipate that. Because you took hold of his hand and pushed it underneath the robe you were wearing where he was able to directly feel both the fact that you weren’t wearing any panties and the fact that you were right, you were wet. In fact, you were nearly soaking his fingers even at the slight superficial rub he gave your mound. And your sensitivity was obvious by your small moan at his subtle touch. And his mesmerization at feeling your pussy at his hand gave you enough opportunity to take his other hand and slide to your chest, under the robe, and fold your hand over his to have him squeeze at your breasts.

“You can do whatever you want to me.” You offered, voice too sweet for the words you were saying, “Please. My fingers don’t fuck me as hard as you do.”

And it was that last sentence, the image of you with your legs open, fingers nested in your cunt while he was away, that snapped his self-control. It drove him wild but good thing wild is how you wanted him. 

Michael took you by your waist and unceremoniously chucked you onto the bed. You landed right in the middle of the plush mattress, staring up at him with wide eyes — both surprised at his sudden and brute actions and turned on by that display of strength. This first display of his power over you had your thighs rubbing against each other in need of friction. This was exactly what you had been fantasizing about. 

The sides of your robe fell open, exposing you entirely to his eyes. And while he trailed his gaze over your body, focusing on your tits and in between your legs, he focused more on approaching you. Looking much like a predator capturing its defenseless little prey. 

“Whatever the fuck I want?” He said, even his voice was more hoarse, rougher. And all you could do was nod. Whatever he wanted.  

He never stopped watching you as his rough hands took a hold of your legs and pried them apart. You moaned when his fingers found their way to your pussy, letting his fingers be coated with your wetness. You were always so responsive. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet.” He hissed, “Just because I haven’t fucked you in a week? Are you really that fucking needy?” His tone was taunting but he was a hypocrite when he knew he had barely held himself back each time he was around you throughout the week, it was just as much torture for him as well.

You were so sensitive from how horny you’d been for so long, imagining his fingers, his cock, his tongue…anything. You were mewling just by how his fingers explored your pussy and clit. By the time he’d inserted two of his big fingers into you, you’d gasped, eyes closed, mouth open, and back arching. Your legs moved to close involuntarily but Michael’s hands kept your legs in place by your inner thighs. If anything, spreading them open even more. “Keep your fucking legs open.” 

If he’d meant to punish you for your impatience, this was when he was doing it. By thrusting his fingers in and out of you at an almost inhuman speed, having you writhing out. You tried to keep your legs open, even using your own hands to keep them spread but the brutal pace of his fingers almost had you blind with pleasure. You were writhing, eyes nearly rolling back. But it felt so good. It was exactly what you wanted.

You felt a sharp slap against your inner thigh when you tried to close your legs. “It’s too much, I ca—I can’t—” And yet there you were, hips rolling against his palm to feel the heel of his hand rubbing against your bundle of nerves. Your wetness was dripping on his hands but you didn’t care. He hadn’t eased you into this or gone slow at first, but you hadn’t wanted him to anyway.

It was only when his fingers curled inside of you along with the addition of a third finger that you could feel the start of your orgasm. Your walls clenched around his fingers, feeling so full already and yet already imagining how much more stretched out you’d be around his cock. 

“Yes oh my God. I’m gonna c—”

But then his fingers were gone, leaving your hole empty and clenching around nothing. And your orgasm is cut short right at the edge of it. But you couldn’t even whine or complain because your mouth was stuffed with his fingers. 

“Taste how much of a fucking slut you are.”

You could taste yourself on his fingers and he kept them there enough for you to suck his digits clean. He took his time in taking them out of your mouth before forcing them in further, hearing you choke slightly against his digits. Loving the way your throat closed around him and your eyes teared up. It was dirty, you were blushing, and you were sure your brain was short-circuiting at this degrading action he was making you do. 

And yet you could only feel your need for him grow deeper and hotter in your belly, making you wetter and your bare pussy trying to find friction uselessly even with just the air. Michael watched you mewl against his fingers, pushing your body closer to him. Michael watched the innocent, wholesome girl everyone else saw as you sucked his fingers, whining for him, the meanest scariest man on campus, to fuck you. He only grew harder knowing the submissive position he currently had that good girl in. Just for him. Forever.

And he was right, you never would have been like this, in this degrading position, before him but now that you’d experienced the pleasure he introduced you to, you were just as insatiable as he was. You even whimpered in pleasure when he finally took his fingers out of your mouth and immediately slapped you with that same hand. Your cheek stung and your face moved slightly at the impact but all it did was make you writhe for him. Until he did it again and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan that just proved how needy you were. He had tainted you a long time ago all for himself, molded you into the perfect slut for him.

He stood directly in front of you, he began undoing his belt and zipper to his jeans. The ones he had just finished putting on. But the sight of his tattooed hands aggressively working them off was hot, you felt yourself clench at the sight. 

“Making me miss hanging out with my friends. You’re a bad influence, little one.” He mocked. Your mouth was watering by the time he shoved his pants and boxer briefs off and you finally had his pretty, hard cock in front of you. Finally. Despite how much he had tried to convince himself of his restraint, his tip was oozing precum already. You should have felt sheepish at his words you were too busy staring at his hard cock to care about feeling bad. How could you when everything you had wanted for days, everything you knew he could give you — the pleasure, the domination — was right in front of you.

And with your hands still holding your legs wide open, like you were presenting yourself as just a hole for him, Michael climbed over you, pushing your legs further into your chest, effectively folding you in half. In a way that made your already large size difference even starker. Especially when his body on top of you covered you so completely, making you feel so small, so vulnerable under him. Maybe that was why you were tighter than usual when he entered you in one single thrust. 

You gasped but that gasp ended up into broken, stuttering screams when he didn’t give you a moment to adjust to him. Instead, his thrusts picked up at a brutal pace with no build up. Your body was racked with movement as he pounded into you. You couldn’t really formulate a sentence as you felt the fast impact of his hips as he ground them against yours.

His cock was spreading you open, you could feel him rubbing against your walls, feel every curve of him as he reached deeply into you. Your pussy was taking him in greedily, through his big size that had him looking almost squeezed inside of your small hole. He barely fit. You felt so full and you couldn’t help but think how empty you had felt the entire week without this. You were addicted to him. 

Especially when his balls slapped against your ass, especially when his weight on you as he drilled into you at that animalistic pace had you almost unable to breathe. Only furthered by his big hand wrapping around your throat, “Is this what you fucking wanted?” 

“Ah—” You couldn’t respond. The position had him reaching so deep inside of you, and his rough thrusts were almost bruising. This was too much. But it felt so good. 

“Can’t use your big girl words?” He mocked down at you, his voice cold and mean. “Can’t think of anything else other than cock, can you? Such a whore.” 

And the sting of humiliation had you clenching around him. Your legs were burning by the time he straightened up. Just to take you by your waist and move you against his cock. Your legs could only wrap around him, begging for him to impale himself deeper into you despite how stuffed you already looked, despite how savage his thrusts were. You still would take more. You just wanted him inside of you. You could already feel the hotness in your belly telling you you were going to come. Hard and violent against his cock in a way no one or nothing else could bring you to. 

Your nails scratched down his back as your back arched in response to his expert hips fucking into you. But the pain your scratches brought him only had him cursing out in pleasure and squeezing your throat more, increasing the power in each thrust. You moved away because the pleasure and way your body was being absolutely destroyed was too much for your body. But you couldn’t help but roll your eyes back when he stopped you so easily, controlling your body in a way only he could. Only he was meant for. 

Maybe you were the type of girl most would think should be treated delicately. But the domination he had over you, the rough way he fucked you like he didn’t care if you broke, with his size shoving your walls open in this submissive powerless position and his power over you that filled your every sensation, had you mindless. He wasn’t going easy on you and you didn’t want him to. He was fucking you dumb.

“I should make you call them,” Michael growled out, his fingers definitely leaving imprints on your neck. “Hear you tell them I couldn’t come out tonight because I’m too busy with my toy.”

You couldn’t speak, especially with the way he was squeezing your throat, “D-daddy…”

You vaguely heard him curse out under his breath. Glancing down at where you two were connected, at where his cock was ramming into you so fast and so roughly that all he could hear was your juices as his skin resounded against yours. And all he could feel was your walls clamping down against him, warm and wet in a way that had him fighting against them to reach you entirely. Until they tightened around him even more as he felt you cum around him. “Shit. So fucking good.”

Your cries of his name increased in volume and number, as you dug your nails into him in the pleasure you were riding out in your orgasm. And even more when he kept fucking into you in that unforgiving pace without stopping, without letting you come down from your high or saving your poor pussy from that overstimulation in that beating it was taking. So good. He vaguely recognized how your body trembled for him, how your little frame was being ruined for him. 

Instead of the sweet little expression you were so well known for, you were wearing a lewd face begging for him to keep fucking you, begging to cum around him again and again, begging to be claimed. His corruption of his good little girl was never more obvious. How could he ever have thought he would have been able to go out tonight when this was what he got when he stayed in. The unimaginable pleasure your pussy held. 

He hadn’t realized how pent up he had been too. How annoyed and horny he’d been without fucking you for days until you pawed at him and his body had an animalistic urge to claim you, to make his girl feel good and satiated so much so that you wouldn’t even be able to walk or feel anything besides his load and body on top of you. And he intended to make good on that. His mind was enveloped in that raw domination that he was exuding. You were so easy to manhandle, and control, as he all but lifted you up with his muscular arms, moving you up and down against his cock like you really were nothing more than a doll. 

And he thought that was what had him feeling you wetter than usual. Why the squelching of your juices was so much louder, why his entrance into you was just a tiny bit easier with your lubrication — granted, with how big he was and how small you were, it would never be easy; he’d figured after so many years of fucking your perennial tightness. Your wetness and cum had covered his entire cock, white coated the base of him and it smeared your thighs and his. 

Until he finally looked down at you and saw the glazed look in your eyes. They were clouded with lust, adoration, and pleasure. Tears of pleasure were falling from your cute cheeks. He wasn’t sure how long your mind had been floating but he knew it when he saw you. He only hoped he hadn’t gone too long without noticing it, hoping he hadn’t hurt you without realizing.

You were moaning louder than before, clinging to him. Your euphoric expression unmistakable. Even your pupils were blown out. The intensity of the pleasure was too much. He’d been so rough, so dominant, your mind had been completely given over to the pleasure and his control. You felt weightless as you let him take every piece of you. Utterly fucked out. It’s why you were moaning louder than before, why your body was pliant for him. The buildup for your second orgasm so much shorter that you could feel you about to explode over your Daddy’s cock again.

But then Michael set you down and he heard you whine loudly. You felt so good, you were making him feel good. You never wanted it to stop. You wanted to milk him, wanted him to make him cum, wanted to have him claim you fully. You’d waited enough.

There was a sense of incoherence to your voice when you clung to him. “Keep fucking your pussy, daddy, please.”  You were dizzy. But it felt so good. “Missed you so much.”

Your voice was tiny and Michael looked down at your state. The state that had you vulnerable and completely submissive to him. The state the pleasure he brought you sent you into, the state that told him your trust in him to be in such a defenseless space with him. Part of him loved it when you got like this. You were even more responsive than usual, submitting entirely to him. Claiming yourself as his. Your goal was just to please him. It filled him with pleasure to know he had your complete submission to him. That he’d made you feel so good and safe that he’d fucked you into this transcendence. That right now, he was your everything. So cute. He plunged into your wetness and felt your entire body and mind give themselves to him. His. Completely. Even more so than usual. 

And he knew he could never deny you, not with your teary eyed begging. You needed him, needed what he could give you. What you’d been deprived of for much longer than his sweet girl deserved. He’d fuck you nice and good just like you were meant to be fucked.

His thrusts were still rough and fast and dominant as he fucked you into the mattress, just like he knew you wanted. But his hands remained bracketed on either side of you, his meanness cooling down. His own drunk mindset he often got in his dominating position residing. He needed to take care of you, even in this state that would take even the nastiest of his fantasies. But he’d never push you when he knew you’d welcome even pain in this out-of-body experience. Yet, it was hard to do anything about the heavy pride on him to have you under him so high for him.

Your moans sang to him as he ran a hand down to rub at your clit, “Yeah? Feel good? You’re doing so good for me, little one.” His tone had changed. Endearment coated his words, praise — only praise from his mouth now — filled you and you swelled with the feelings that you made him happy, that you were doing a good job for him. “Taking me so well.”

“Take me next time okay, Daddy?” You asked, grinding your hips, your legs around him pushing him deeper into you. You moaned. “I’ll be quiet, I can just keep your cock warm if you want. Your friends won't mind, I promise. I’ll do anything. Whatever you want daddy. Whatever you want. Just never stop fucking me, I’ll be good. I-I’ll be good…nghh”

Michael groaned out at your words, relishing in the feeling of your soaking entrance. You were so wet, it felt so good. You were so good. The picture of him buried in you in public, in front of his friends, had his hips stuttering. “Fuck yeah. Good girl, good fucking girl. I’ll give you what you deserve. Your pussy’s so fucking good, baby. Missed it so much. So much better than anything, I’ll always be here to fuck you. Whenever you want.” He cooed.

He had to crush your duvet in his fist to prevent him from losing his mind again at your dreamy willingness. He had to flex his muscles to stop himself from cumming right then but it only had your cunt squeezing him more heavenly. Everything about him and his strength had you weak and extremely sensitive. Your tongue stuck out needily. The expression, what he’d reduced you to, was too much.

“Fuck I’m gonna—” His eyes closed for a second but he watched to make sure he wasn’t hurting you despite your pleads of harder! fuck me harder daddy. You couldn’t take any harder than he was already going, especially when you came back down from this. But he had to force himself the self-control he had shed as soon as you let him feel below your robe. He was in charge completely right now and he didn’t want to push you too hard. Not when your only goal was to make him feel good, regardless of yourself. You’d agree to anything he wanted at this point. So he had to be the one to look out for you when you couldn’t for yourself.

“You’re going to cum for me again, okay little one? Think you can do that?” The authority in his voice had you nodding to him rapidly. Anything for him. “That’s right, make a mess for me.”

Your eyes were still dazed as his cock hit just the right place deep inside of you. And again and again. He was so good. This was exactly what you needed. You didn’t think you’d ever felt pleasure like this before, it was blinding. Everything was heightened. He was groaning and grunting with each thrust, each time closer and closer to his orgasm. Until he leaned over you, eclipsing your small body entirely. Making you feel so small and dominated that you swore your eyes were trembling.

It was a lot to come again. The wave of it was overwhelming, especially in your headspace, it nearly knocked you out. Your body grew limp but your curling hands, your pushing of your body closer to his, the way you kept crying out yes yes yes showed you were still conscious. You were moaning, whimpering, and gasping. Even Michael felt weak as he came in you, his hips thrusting just superficially as his cum was milked out of him, as your walls pulsed around him to take his entire load. The feeling of filling you up, especially now as you looked like it was the biggest gift possible, had a possessive happiness overtake him. You were his to breed, only he would ever fill you up with his seed and know what you felt like raw and only he would one day fill you up until you were round with his child. 

His arms closed around your head on either side as he dropped his head to be just a few inches from your face. Letting the pleasure of cumming, specifically in you, move through him. Your legs around him tightened as if to prevent him from pulling out, forcing him to breed you nice and full as if he was ever going to do anything but that. It really had been too long, he couldn’t fault you for your neediness when suddenly he felt like the most content man in the world. But with you, with all you could give him and make him feel — how hot and right you were, it was hard not to feel lucky and wanting always. He’d never be able to spend so many nights in a row away from you, away from this, it’d be his biggest punishment to himself. Nothing would be worthy of turning this away.

He wasn’t sure how long you’d been going at it but Michael had to physically stop himself from letting his body drop from tiredness from this exercise and crushing you accidentally. You were so small. He was breathing hard and a sheen of sweat covered his torso. He leaned down and kissed your lips, it wasn’t a heavy kiss but it wasn’t a light peck either. 

When he pulled away, he also finally left his position on top of you, pulling out and watching the way his cum stayed filling you up. The white remnants of his cream pie covering your pussy, the physical representation of his tainting. It was messy and it was so hot. He wanted to ravish you again but he took a deep controlled breath.

You whined, arms reaching for him. “No! Don’t leave Daddy.”

Daddy. You normally only called him that during sex. He took in your face again, realizing you still hadn’t come back down yet. He passingly wondered just what kind of number he had done on you. He’d only made you cum once and that was enough to send you into your floaty space — and deep into it. Maybe he’d been a bit too rough. Though you knew you loved and wanted that.

Your head lolled limply but only a bit and your grip was weak. Your eyes teared up at the thought of your Daddy leaving you. “W-Was I not good? I—”

Michael kissed your temple. “Of course you were baby.” He said softly, slowly, in a coddling tone. “I’m just going to clean you up okay?”

He waited until you nodded slowly. Checking in on you every step of the way. He was a lot more tender and patient with you, even more than usual. His tone soft and his eyes indulging. Not losing his patience, not getting annoyed. Just perfectly happy to dote on you and help you safely get back to yourself. You couldn’t really move in this natural high, you felt unsteady like you were flying yet you felt the mattress under you. You felt so relaxed and you weren’t sure if it was the sex or the daze you were in.

You felt yourself being lifted in his strong arms and then you had the sensation of water. Of his hands over you but in a different context than before. You didn’t speak when he bathed you, when he wrapped you in a towel and then changed you into your pajamas. Then ran his fingers through your hair, soothingly. Your eyes fluttered at the sensation. He was so gentle. “How’s my girl doing?” 

But you didn’t answer him, just gave a slightly dopey-sounding giggle and curled up beside him. All he did was wrap his arms around you and keep you there, his lips near your ear. Sometimes he whispered sweet nothings but your fuzzy brain couldn’t focus on those soft words. Picking up soft murmurs of my pretty girl, always so pretty, my sweet girl. 

Until he made you sit up and lifted a glass of water to your lips. Waiting until you obediently swallowed the water. He murmured something about being dehydrated. And then his fingers were in your hair again and you felt like you were being rewarded for being a good girl. 

You were still gazing far away with a dreamlike expression when you finally spoke, “I’m your little girl, right Daddy?”

“Mikey.” He corrected. “I’m not Daddy right now, okay?” His voice was no longer the indulgent, almost babying, tone he had when he was still buried inside of you. He was still patient. But you’d been gone under for too long. He needed you back now. You were too deep but now that he’d taken care of you, he was going to try to bring you back to the surface so he could continue taking care of his girl. 

You pouted, lower lip jutting out. “B-But you’re my Daddy.”

And Michael just kissed your cheek, holding you close enough until his nose brushed against yours and you were forced to stare directly into his eyes. “Yes. But right now I’m Mikey. Come back to me, okay, Y/N? I’ve got you.”

He waited until your eyes started to focus again, talking to you until you seemed lucid enough to understand him. Until you finally were able to take into your surroundings despite the receding fog. 

Michael’s hand was rubbing your back gently as he stared at you, watched you blink, and take deep breaths in. You were a bit shaky. 

“Are you okay?” He asked and smiled when you nodded. “Do you need anything?” He again waited until you shook your head.

"Welcome back, baby.”

“I love you, Mikey.” You smiled at the soft kisses he left on your face. Your heart was warm at the way he took care of you — helping you relax with his sweet aftercare until you started to come out of it., the way he was gazing at you still with the most caring eyes. You let yourself be laid nearly on top of him, your head resting on his chest. “Thanks for staying home with me. That was so good. It was exactly what I wanted. I just didn’t expect…” You laughed weakly.

You sounded so exhausted, mentally and physically. He didn’t blame you.

“I love you too, princess. Let’s get some sleep. You need to rest. I’m staying home tomorrow night too.” 

He felt his cold heart come alive when you whispered a small ‘yay’ just as you drifted off. He thought they’d have to drag him out bloody and near death before he’d ever leave you so lonely and needy for so long again — so much so you’d gone into your headspace so easily. Not when he could fix both things, not when he felt the same way and preferred to give you everything your goodness deserved over doing anything else anyway.