lid 𑣲⋆ micah's wifey

A relationship with Micah would be toxic to the core and utterly intense in every single way. You'd have endless arguments because of his difficult personality, and you're not much different, loving him and hating him at the exact same time. Most of the time, your fights with Micah would end in makeup sex, he'd take his stress out on you this way, and in those moments, his performance was even wilder and better. The best sex with him would always be after a fight.

He'd obsess over leaving dark bruises and bite marks on your neck that will definitely leave a trace. It's entirely intentional, he wants it to be hard for you to hide. He'd get a real kick out of watching you desperately try to cover the marks or stuttering through whatever excuses you have to invent.

Hair-pulling and breathplay would definitely be his thing, he thrives on having absolute control over you. He'd fill your ears with dirty talk, completely addicted to making you beg for him.

He would love taking risks, the risk of someone seeing, the risk of someone hearing, and that would only skyrocket his adrenaline and arousal. During the night at the camp, Micah wouldn't hesitate to provoke you in the dead of night, he'd know exactly where your weak spot is. Sex with him would be something new, he hadn't had many partners in his life, but he would damn well know what he was doing. Seeing you squirm, trying your hardest not to make a sound so you wouldn't wake the others, would turn him on even more. He wouldn't care one bit about making noise, in fact, he'd want you to.

Micah doesn't mind not getting head, but giving it to you would be almost sacred to him. He'd know exactly what to do and how to do it, executing it with absolute mastery, he'd know just how to use his tongue while making heavy use of his fingers, constantly pressing kisses against your inner thighs. Before even reaching your sweet spot, he'd wander down with kisses and caresses, and the friction of his beard against your skin would send shivers down your spine.

An almost ethereal view that you'd get used to seeing is having your legs hooked over his shoulders, his face buried deep between them as he gives you a pleading look. The moment he raises his head to meet your eyes, you'd catch the gleam of your juices shining on his mustache.

Micah would absolutely be into biting, he's got a huge odaxelagnia kink, loving both the act of leaving marks and receiving them. He'd have his favorite target areas to claim you, obsessing mostly over sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your shoulders and your neck.

Micah would be a huge fan of quickies in risky places, behind the camp during late afternoon, at the camp during a celebration, behind the saloon, in dark alleys, anywhere where the chances of getting caught were sky-high.

Micah isn't the type to be loud, he'd mostly let out quite, gravelly groans right in your ear. But what he lack in volume, he makes up for in dirty talk, he'd cover you in praise, filth and degradation.

He'd give you light bites just for the pleasure of it. When you're riding him while he's sitting up, you'd constantly look down to find his lips wrapped around one of your breasts while his free gand gropes the other.

He's a big fan of doggystyle. He'd love the control of grabbing your hair on all fours, pulling your back flush against his chest. He'd be into light choking, wrapping one hand around your throat while his free hand works its way down to your wetness.

Once he finished making his partner come with just his fingers, he'd slide them into his own mouth to lick them clean, only to capture your lips right after so you could taste your own sweetness on him.

Micah wouldn't be squeamish at all about kissing you right after you blew him, if he came in your mouth, he'd taste himself on your tongue and kiss you even deeper.

After sex, he'd stay with you. With a weary, husky laugh, he'd light a cigarette, shifting on the mattress next to you as he pulls you close, nesting your head on his chest. "I think we might need to argue more often, my dear." He'd utter those words to tease you, a smug grin in his voice while he tries to recover his breath, his fingers tracing patterns along your bare back. Then, he'd give you a tender kiss, so deep and sweet it felt almost passionate, ending with a string of gentle pecks. He'd just linger there, taking you in. An "I love you" would never cross his lips, as that's completely out of character for him, but his presence spoke volumes. He stayed with you, and in that silence, you knew he cared.