angel girl !

because this is mature, grown man michael in 2002, and the second he realizes you're actually serious, he's pacing around the house with the cordless phone in one hand and his other hand on his hip like he's trying very hard to be patient. emphasis on trying. the first phone call is calm.

the second one is slightly less calm. by the eighth call he's leaving voicemails that somehow manage to sound annoyed and worried at the exact same time. "baby... call me back." click. five minutes later. "i'm serious. answer the phone." click. another ten minutes. "you're really gonna make me call again?" yes, michael. yes, she is.

and the thing is...he isn't angry because you wanted space. he's angry because, in his mind, your place is beside him. even if you're both furious. even if neither of you speaks a word until morning. he'd rather sleep on opposite ends of the bed than wonder whether you've eaten dinner or if your friend's house doors actually lock properly or if you're lying awake crying by yourself.

it genuinely never occurs to him that you'd rather be anywhere else after an argument because arguments, to michael, are something you fix. not something you sleep on. so by phone call number seventeen he's not even pretending anymore. "baby, this is ridiculous." another voicemail. "come home." another one. "i'll sleep in the guest room if that's what you want." another one. "you don't even have your skincare over there." because somehow that's the argument he thinks is going to win you over. and...it almost does. your friend eventually answers the house phone because she's tired of hearing it ring every twenty minutes, and before she can even say hello he's already asking, "is she still mad?" not where is she? not put her on. just..."is she still mad?" like that's the only thing he's been thinking about all evening.

he'd never admit it, but the house feels wrong without you in it. the lamp on your side of the bed stays off because he refuses to touch it. your mug is still sitting by the sink because that's your mug, him having nasty flashbacks of;

dry humping and making out. squeezing ur ass and helping u grind on his hard cock while his tongue is shoved down ur throat :/ he just loves the soft sounds u make. whimpering and moaning, trying to get ur self off on him and clinging to his shirt or hair.

he feels like he's in heaven. his pretty gf all horny and needy grinding on his dick :( and he loves getting messy. loves cumming on u, literally anywhere on u—ur face, ass, back, tummy, on ur pussy or inside ur pussy. spreading it all over u with his fingers and making u lick and suck on them afterwards :3 *cough* even your slippers by the bedroom door somehow make him miss you more than he thought possible.

he keeps catching himself listening for your keys in the front door before remembering you're not coming home tonight... and every single time it annoys him all over again. because if there's one thing michael absolutely cannot stand...it's ending the day without kissing you goodnight. and he'll call twenty times before he lets that become a habit. ❤︎.

© 𝖠𝖯𝖯𝖫𝖤𝖶𝖤𝖡𝖡. ᓚ₍⑅^..^₎♡. ‎‎‎

he had always been guided by a pretty strict moral compass. between his upbringing and his own polite nature, he just wasn’t the type of guy to fool around or treat people carelessly. he took things seriously, sometimes to a fault.

your friendship was the one thing in his life that felt safe and untouched by all the usual noise surrounding him. it was easy, it was real, and he kept a tight guard over it. but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the ache that had settled in his chest.

he wanted to be the gentleman he was raised to be, but every time he looked at you now, there was this need he couldn’t set aside. the thought of blurring those lines and letting things get messy scared him to death.

he didn't want to be the guy who took advantage of a close moment, and he definitely didn't want to look across the room one day and realize he’d made things weird between you two forever.

the shift hit immediately over the next few days. it wasn't anything too crazy, but there were noticeable hitches in your usual routine. you’d be hanging out on the carpet in his bedroom at hayvenhurst, casually flipping through a crate of old vinyl records to find something to play, and you’d look up to ask him a question. but instead of looking at the sleeve in your hand, michael would already be watching you. specifically, your mouth.

every time you spoke about the most boring, mundane things — like what track to play next or what you wanted to have for dinner — his gaze would drop. he’d watch your mouth, his own lips parting the tiniest bit as he tracked the movement, not even fully aware of what he was doing.

in his head, a loop was running. he kept remembering the sweet taste of your lip gloss, the dizzying warmth of your mouth parting for him, and the way your tongue slid greedily against his. it had felt incredible. just thinking about it made a tight ache coil low in his stomach. he wondered what it would feel like if he leaned across the carpet right now, if he could feel your soft, wet mouth sliding down, wrapping tight around his—

no. michael caught himself, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard, a flush creeping up his neck. no, stop it. that’s your best friend. you are not taking your thoughts there. he’d abruptly yank his gaze away, clearing his throat and nervously shifting his weight on the floor to hide the stiffness in his trousers, stammering out a hurried reply that did absolutely nothing to clear the thick cloud of tension left in the room. 

by the weekend, the tension in the house was just getting to be too much. hoping a change of scenery would finally break the awkwardness, you both decided to get out of there and go for a drive.

you sat in the plush passenger seat of his light blue rolls-royce, the car parked under the sprawling canopy of a quiet, dimly lit street overlooking the valley. the street light cast a soft glow over the interior. you both had cups of soft-serve ice cream, the car filled with the easy, familiar chatter that always came naturally to you two.

"’m jus' sayin', it’s completely different when you're seein' it on a big screen," michael said as he gestured with his plastic spoon. "the way they did the transformation scenes in an american werewolf in london? 's like magic. rick baker is a genius, i'm tellin' you."

you snorted, shifting in your seat to face him. "you spent half the movie hiding your face behind your hands. you can't claim it’s ‘artistic appreciation’—” you used your free hand to flash quick air quotes, “—when you were literally too scared to look."

"i was not!" he protested, a laugh bursting out of him. he shrugged, shifting slightly in his seat. "i was studyin' the makeup effects— that’s research. y'gotta look closely at how the skin stretches, otherwise y'don't learn nothin'."

"right, research," you teased, taking another bite of your ice cream. "is that why you gripped my wrist so hard i lost circulation?"

"you're exaggeratin' now," he grinned as a pretty flush hit his cheeks. "i was jus' makin' sure you weren't scared. i was protectin' you."

"oh, thanks. my hero." you nudged his shoulder with your own, a smirk playing on your face. "what, are you thinking 'bout quitting your music career to become a makeup artist now?" 

michael let out another quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he looked down at his cup. "no way," he murmured, swirling his spoon through the melting ice cream. "'s too messy. i'll stick to the studio." he flicked his eyes back up to yours, his smile softening. "but a real artist has to appreciate all kinds of things. movies, painting, whatever... it all helps y'grow. y'gotta feed your mind, y'know?" 

you hummed, nodding along.

gradually, the chatter died down into a still quietness. you scooped up one last bite of your ice cream, turning your head to look out the window at the sprawling valley lights as you ate it, unaware that the motion left a small dab of vanilla right on the corner of your lower lip. 

michael was leaning his elbow against the steering wheel, watching you. his eyes locked onto the small white smudge. the silence stretched, growing warmer by the second, until the weight of his stare made you turn your head to face him.

your eyes met. neither of you looked away. the car suddenly felt a lot smaller than it did a second ago. heat bloomed in your cheeks under the weight of his gaze. 

"what?" you asked, your voice a little breathier than you intended.

michael didn't answer right away.

"y'have a little..." he said, his voice trailing off as his gaze drifted back to your lips. he slowly reached across the center console towards you.

you held your breath as his thumb pressed against the corner of your mouth to swipe the ice cream away. the intimacy of the touch made your pulse spike.

he drew his hand back, glancing down at his thumb before lifting his eyes to yours again.

without looking away, he slowly licked the vanilla from his thumb.

a hot rush of adrenaline zipped through you.

you swallowed against the dryness in your throat, nervously chuckling as you set your ice cream down in the holder. "thanks... guess i’m a messy eater."

"‘s jus’ me here,” he murmured with a small smile. his fingers fidgeted with the steering wheel, though his eyes never left your lips, it was clear his mind was elsewhere. the silence grew so thick it felt like the air was running out.

michael stayed where he was, still leaning across the center console. he was close enough to feel the warmth radiating off your skin. he took a deep, steady breath before speaking.

“...can i kiss you?” he asked quietly.

you barely let him finish asking before you were already leaning in.

when his mouth finally met yours, michael didn't think it was possible to miss your lips this much. the touch of you washed over him like relief, erasing all the agonizing distance between you in an instant. it somehow felt even better than he'd remembered over the last few day. your lips were soft, carrying the sweet taste of vanilla ice cream.

the kiss started as a slow, but the lingering sweetness on your tongue made it impossible for him to hold back for long.

michael let out a breathy sigh against your mouth as his hand slipped from the steering wheel to cup your cheek. his thumb slid along your jaw, tilting your head to slant his lips deeper over yours.

the first tentative sweep of his tongue past your lips sent a jolt through him, drawing him closer, as if he could close the gap between the seats by force of will.

he devoured you, his breath coming in short gasps that mingled with your own. every soft clash of your lips against his felt heightened, amplified by the cramped dark of the car.

michael’s mind went completely blank to everything except the way you responded to him, your hands finding the collar of his jacket and pulling him down, inviting the weight of him. a faint hum of approval vibrated in his throat when he felt your tongue slide back against his, matching his cadence with a hunger that rivaled his own.

he sucked your lower lip into his mouth, his hands drifted blindly down to your waist.

the center console dug into his side, keeping you frustratingly out of reach, but he refused to pull away. he needed you closer.

without breaking the kiss for even a second, he gripped your hips and hooked his arms beneath your thighs, lifting you up and over the center console. 

you scrambled to adjust, your knees sliding onto the edges of his seat until you were straddling his lap. the sudden drop of your body onto his made michael let out a muffled whine into your mouth. he wrapped his arms securely around your back, pulling your chest flush against his as the kiss turned sloppier.

the heat inside the car was blistering. michael's broad hands settled firmly on your hips, holding you close. the pressure between your bodies made him shudder against your mouth.

he couldn't get enough. all the frustration that had built up over the past week spilled over as he shifted his hips up to meet you. the leather beneath him squeaked softly with the movement.

even through the layers of your denim and his trousers, the friction was almost too much to handle. michael’s mouth grew clumsier, his teeth grazing your lower lip as he sucked your tongue into his mouth, drunk on the taste of you and the ache tightening in his groin. 

his head was spinning. he squeezed your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he guided your pace, chasing the delicious rush every time he rocked up against you.

a quiet moan slipped from your lips as your hips rolled into his. the sound alone made his dick twitch against his pants. his grip tightened, his knuckles paling against your waist.

he was trembling all over, his breathing shot, warmth creeping up under his curls. the pace turned frantic, both of you losing your breath as your bodies rolled together in the cramped cabin of the car. 

"oh... 'm gonna—" michael slurred into your mouth as his whole body shuddered.

"f-fuck," you whimpered, your fingers gripping his shoulders as your own climax threatened to crash over you.

desperate for a deeper angle, michael gripped your thighs and hoisted himself slightly higher in the seat, thrusting up hard to bury himself flush against you. 

in his haste, his movement made your back bump into the center of the steering wheel, the horn blaring and piercing the quiet street. 

both of you jumped, the sound cutting through the heat like a bucket of ice water. michael instantly lurched backward, his arm tugging you off the wheel as he tried to put distance between you, his head nearly hitting the roof. 

"oh shit," you gasped.

his chest heaved like he’d just run a marathon. he stared at you with wide eyes, his lips swollen and red. 

you were still straddling his lap, your hands clutching his shoulders while your heart battered against your ribs. the car was dead silent, save for the sound of both of your uneven breathing. 

the absurdity of the situation hit you first, and an airy giggle slipped past your lips. michael blinked at you, startled, before his own shoulders relaxed and he huffed out a short laugh.

but it was very short lived. michael's head was spinning, his thoughts a mess. looking at you in his lap in the dim light, a wave of guilt washed over him.

"we— we gotta stop," michael stammered. he dragged a trembling hand over his mouth, trying to steady himself, though his gaze kept slipping to your rumpled shirt. "we shouldn't... we can't be doin' this.”

you swallowed hard and forced yourself to nod.

but neither of you made a move to separate. the heat between your bodies was thick, your core still pressed flush against his stiff trousers, feeling the twitch of his erection right against you. michael swallowed hard, his hand dropping from his mouth to rest tentatively on your hip. 

he looked so torn, caught in this battle with himself, and it made something soften in your chest. you didn't want him pulling away out of fear or some strict rulebook. 

you leaned a little closer, reaching out to cup his jaw. your fingers slid along his warm skin, your thumb hooking under his chin to tilt his face up so he had no choice but to look at you.

he was so pretty it almost hurt. his soft curls framed his face in a messy halo, and his dark skin had flushed a deep crimson all the way to the tips of his ears.

as your eyes locked, michael’s gaze dropped to your mouth. his tongue darted out to quickly lick from his lower lip before he bit down on it hard, trapping it between his teeth 

"what if... i don't want to?" you murmured, your heart hammering so hard against your ribs you were sure he could feel it. your free hand slid down his shoulder to catch his wrist. "i mean... remember what you said earlier? 'bout research? you said a real artist has to appreciate all kinds of things to grow… and how will you grow if we don’t… you know."

michael blinked, a breathless laugh escaping him. his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips.

"that... that was about the movies," he whispered, his voice dropping into a soft drawl as he stumbled over the words. he swallowed hard, his throat bobbing beneath your fingertips where your hand still rested on his jaw. his gaze dropped for a moment as his thumb traced a small circle against your hip, the warmth of his palm seeping through your clothes. "'s different. y'know it is."

"'s not different," you breathed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "we're just researching. practicing... aren’t we?"

michael's breath caught. he'd been the one to call it practice in the first place, but hearing the words in your voice made them sound a whole lot less convincing. it painfully obvious that neither of you believed it anymore, but it was just the excuse you'd both quietly agreed to hide behind.

you leaned down closer, the scent of him filling your senses as your eyelids fluttered shut. you pressed your lips to the soft corner of his mouth.

when you started to pull back, he chased your lips until he caught them again, locking his mouth over yours in a desperate kiss. a groan caught in his throat as his fingers tangled deep into the hair at the nape of your neck, his tongue slipping past your teeth.

but just as you tangled your fingers in his collar to pull him closer, he stopped.

he let out a shaky exhale against your skin before dropping his forehead into the crook of your neck. he stayed there for a moment, his chest heaving against yours. he still looked downright tormented as he dragged a trembling hand down his face. 

"if i don't stop right now... 'm not gonna be able to," he whispered. he looked down at his hands, heat spreading across his cheeks. "the things i wanna do t'you... the way i want you... 's too much. i can't. i have t'be a gentleman with you.”

your throat tightened, your stomach flipping at his words.

"michael,” you murmured softly, squeezing his hand "you are good for me. i want you. 'm not asking you to be perfect… and you don't get to make this decision all by yourself — it's my choice too"

you leaned in, your thumb tracing the back of his hand. "i don't trust anyone the way i trust you... i want this."

he held your gaze for a long moment, searching your face as if he were making sure you meant every word.

his gaze dropped to your lips, then to where your hand still held his wrist. after a brief hesitation, he turned his hand over in your grip, lacing his fingers with yours and giving them a gentle squeeze.

his free hand returned to your waist, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt as his thumb traced the curve of your hip. he leaned down, pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck before he spoke.

"i wanna make y'feel good," he murmured, his fingers drifting toward your shorts, his knuckles brushing the fabric where you needed him. "can i? can i do that for you?"

you nodded, your voice catching a little. "please."

michael let out a quiet breath, his gaze drifting around the cramped front cabin before a tiny, nervous smile tugged at the corner of his lips. he cleared his throat, a flush creeping up his neck.

"backseat?" he whispered.

you felt your face burn, a small smile breaking across your face as you bit the inside of your cheek and nodded.

you both scrambled over the console until you reached the wide bench seat in the back. you scooted back against the leather as michael climbed in after you, bracing himself above you with one hand planted beside your head and the other at your waist 

he carefully flipped your skirt up over your hips. he clumsily worked his hand along your legs while you both shifted awkwardly on the leather, trying to get comfortable. when his hand brushed your bare thigh, you shivered.

"doin' okay?" he asked, looking up at you.

"yeah," you whispered, your face feeling incredibly hot. "'m jus’ a little nervous."

"me too," he said softly. he moved his hand back up, his fingers tentatively tracing the inside of your thigh until his knuckles nudged the edge of your underwear. he stopped there, his eyes searching yours. "can i... touch you here?"

you nodded, your fingers tightening on his shoulder.

michael drew his hand back a few inches as his gaze drifted between your thighs. right in the center of your underwear, a cute little damp spot had bloomed through the cotton. the fabric clung to your skin, outlining the soft shape of your folds where it creased against your body. 

michael's breath hitched. he stared, completely transfixed. his lower lip disappeared between his teeth before he reached out, his index finger tracing the damp patch of cotton where it hugged your skin.

"you're drippin'," he whispered, his voice turning raspy as he looked back up at your face.

heat rushed to your face, and you quickly looked away. a tiny smile tugged at his mouth when he saw how flustered you were. he reached up with his other hand to guide your face back toward him, wanting to look at you.

"makes me feel good to know i do that t'you," he confessed, his eyes locked onto yours.

his fingers hooked beneath the elastic, pulling it down your legs. when his fingertips finally touched your drooling pussy, a shaky groan slipped from his lips.

he stared for a long moment, hypnotized by how puffy and swollen you were, by the way you were already spilling over, and when he parted your folds, the wetness caught in the low light filtering in from the street.

"michael," you breathed, your voice cracking. you tried to press your legs together, your hands coming down to shield yourself from his gaze. "don't... 's embarrassing."

"no, don't hide," he whispered. he caught your wrists, easing your hands away. "you're so pretty... you're leakin' all over f’me."

a small, pleading noise slips from your lips before you can stop it.

"m-mikey, please," you begged, your hips twitching under the weight of his stare.

he leaned closer, his nose brushing against your thigh as he took another look, his fascination bordering on obsession. he watched the way your pussy glistened, completely captivated.

he mumbled something under his breath that you couldn't quite make out, sounding almost awestruck by the realization that he was the reason you were falling apart like this. then he reached out, tracing the very edge of your folds with one long finger, following the path where you were dripping.

he wasn’t just touching.

he was exploring you, his curiosity getting the better of his shyness.

he slid his finger upward, an experimental stroke that dragged the wetness over your folds. your breath caught, and michael noted the tiny hitch in your chest, his thumb pausing right where it was. he was studying you, trying to get a gauge of your reactions to what you like.

he was being uncharacteristically shameless but so attentive.

and it turned you on more than you wanted to admit.

"y'like that?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

you gave a small nod, your hands reaching for his forearms.

michael swallowed hard. he repeated the same upward stroke, this time pressing just a little harder, his thumb lightly grazing the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top. a sharp gasp escaped you, and your hips twitched against his hand.

michael moaned in response, trapping his lower lip between his teeth. he studied you like you were something precious he didn't want to break, mapping out exactly what made you gasp and what made your body respond. then he tried a different angle, circling his thumb gently over your clit. when your eyes fluttered shut and a whimper slipped free, he let out a shaky breath against your skin.

the steady pressure of his thumb was already making your head spin. michael's breathing grew shallower, his chest rising and falling against yours as he looked down at his hand. his middle finger shifted slightly, the tip nudging against your opening before he stopped.

"michael—" you gasped, your hips twitching on his lap.

"still okay?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.

"y-yeah," you whispered, your fingers curling into his shirt. "can you give me more?"

michael swallowed hard, his face flushed. "tell me if it's too much," he whispered.

he eased his finger inside. he moved carefully, trying to find the right angle while your walls gripped him. a low, quiet moan caught in his throat from how warm and tight you felt.

you were soaking, the mess of it making everything slippery as he pushed a little deeper. the wet noise of his finger sliding against your folds was loud in the quiet car, making your face burn, but you couldn't stop your body arching into him.

when his finger curled slightly and your whole body buckled, he let out a shaky groan into the crook of your neck.

“oh— mike, fuck,” you whimpered.

he looked back up at you, his lower lip caught between his teeth, looking overwhelmed by an idea he was clearly trying to work up the nerve to ask.

"can i..." he started. he cleared his throat, a deeper flush creeping up his neck. "will y'let me taste you? please?"

your heart skipped a beat, your fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt. when you gave a small nod, the tension in his shoulders melted away. carefully, he eased his finger out of you, the soft sound of the release making you both shiver.

"lay back f'me," he whispered. 

you let your elbows slide out from under you, easing back onto the wide leather bench seat. the smooth leather felt cool against your skin.

he shifted his weight, moving down between your legs, angling himself on the lower edge of the seat.

he rested his hands on the insides of your thighs, his fingers tracing upward until he had a clear view of you. he stared for a beat before lowering his head.

looking down at him, your chest ached with how beautiful he was. his skin looked soft under the dim light, and those huge, deep brown eyes of his were wide and completely focused on you, framed by thick lashes. even with his curls a little messy and his face completely flushed with nerves, he looked so striking it almost made you forget to breathe.

you felt his breath first — hot and shallow, panting softly against your cunt — and you went still under him, your stomach tightening as his hair tickled your thighs.

he still hadn't moved and you were squirming just waiting for him to do something.

he lifted his eyes to yours, the contact hitting like lightning.

there was so much written across his face — hunger, reverence, something almost possessive — but it was the softness that broke you. the slight twitch of his eyebrows.

slowly, michael leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh, his breath ghosting over your skin. then another, a little higher this time, right at the crase where you leg met your hips. and finally he lowered his head closer to your core, never once breaking eye contact, before he leaned in and licked you.

a slow lick from bottom to top, with the flat of his tongue. you let out a sharp gasp, your hands flying to grip the edges of the seat cushions as your hips jolted.

and he groaned, a sound so filthy that you felt it through your cunt, all the way to your spine.

he began using his tongue in slow upward strokes, mirroring the way he'd touched you with his fingers. he was so gentle, his tongue warm and wet as it dragged through your slickness, parting your folds to get closer. when he swept a little higher and lapped directly over your clit, a loud whimper broke from your lips.

michael let out a low groan against your skin, the vibration sending a shiver through your inner thighs. he pressed his face closer, his nose nudging into your wetness as his strokes grew wider, hungrier, fumbling his way into a steady rhythm as he drank you in.

"y’taste so good," he rushed out. "so sweet. god, you're so wet."

he was obsessed with every sound coming out of you and wanted to hear more. he slid his middle finger back inside your slick opening, drawing another broken sound from you as your hips jolted off the leather.

michael's nose nudged against your clit as he let out a shaky breath against your skin. he pushed his finger a little deeper, trying to find a rhythm between the lapping of his tongue and the slide of his hand. he experimented with different pressures until his fingertip nudged against a rougher, textured spot along your gummy walls. your entire body convulsed.

a cry tore from your throat, your fingers instantly tangling in his soft curls to pull him closer. 

michael let out a muffled moan against your inner thigh. realizing what he'd just stumbled onto, he tentatively pressed his finger against that same spot again, curling it just a fraction while his tongue swirled over your clit.

"does that feel good?" he whispered against your skin. he didn't pull away, his mouth still hovering there.

"y-yes," you choked out, your hips twitching against the seat. "mikey, feels so good."

he buried his face back into you. he sucked on your clit while his finger gently hooked that spot again. the sensation was so overwhelming your eyes rolled back. you were dripping, the wet sounds of his finger working inside you blending with the sound of his breathing. he kept tracing that sweet spot, his finger prodding clumsily, completely losing himself in the way your body buckled and shuddered beneath his mouth.

but the closer he worked you toward the edge, the more his own desire built. his breathing grew louder as he kept his face buried against you.

"you're doin’ so good," he murmured.

he was so worked up, so overwhelmed by how wet you were — and god, those noises spilling from your lips.

without realizing it, he started grinding into the leather seat cushions, rubbing against them to find some relief while he worked you over.

michael was determined to make you cum, he needed to feel it. 

he shifted his angle, his hands sliding beneath your thighs and lifting them, draping your legs over his shoulders as he pulled you closer.

you cried out, because he was even deeper. his face was pressed into you, tongue flattening out again and dragging hard over your entrance.

and then he pushed in, tongue-fucking you. he wasn't even coming up for air, like he didn't even want to.

you could hear the obscene, sloppy sounds of his fingers fucking into you, the suction of his lips over your clit and his moans — god he moaned so much — but you weren't doing much better.

every attempt at a coherent thought dissolved into broken mewls and breathless squeaks. you were climbing so fast you could barely comprehend the pleasure rushing through you.

he lined two fingers this time, sliding into you in one smooth motion, palm facing up. his knuckles dragged across the slick heat of your entrance, easing past the resistance like you were made to take him.

he found that heavenly spot again, pressing into it until you were seeing stars.

your thighs began to tremble, your toes curling as the muscles around his fingers clamped down hard.

"fuck, michael— wait, 'm gonna—"

you couldn't even finish the sentence. your hips jerked off the seat, your body going rigid as the first wave of pleasure crashed through you. a loud cry tore from your throat as your fingers flew to his hair.

michael let out a muffled groan against you as your walls began to spasm around his fingers, squeezing them in pulsing waves. he stayed right there, working you through it as your sweet release slipped around his fingers, creating embarrassing squelching noises. he panted heavily against your inner thighs, trapped between your legs while you shook.

his fingers slowly slipped out of you as he exhaled, the motion drawing another twitch from you. he pushed himself back until he was sitting on his heels. he looked like a wreck — his face flushed, his lips wet all the way to his chin. he swallowed hard, glancing down at his hand before lifting his eyes to yours.

"you okay?" he whispered, his voice thick. "was that alright?"

a soft laugh escaped you. "yeah, it was perfect. you sure you haven’t done this before?"

he let out a breathless laugh, equal parts relief and embarrassment. he looked out the window, rubbing the back of his neck with his clean hand as the dark skin flushed deeper. "never."

you reached out, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and gently pulling him toward you.

eagerly, he leaned into you until his chest pressed against yours. when your lips met, the kiss was soft at first, filled with quiet gratitude, before it slowly deepened. you could still taste yourself on his tongue, and it made your head spin.

he groaned softly into your mouth, his clean hand coming up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek as he kissed you again like he couldn't stop. when you finally pulled apart for air, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

his gaze flicked to the analogue clock on the dashboard, and he let out a soft sigh.

“‘s getting real late." he whispered as he reached down to find your panties, handing them over to you with a gentle look. "i should get y'home before your family starts worryin’ 'bout where you're at. i don't want 'em thinkin' bad of you... or me." 

you laughed softly as you pulled your panties back on. "i know you're just worried about your own reputation, mr. gentleman."

michael laughed.

the ride back that night wasn't nearly as tense as you'd expected. when he dropped you off, you waved a quick goodbye before practically sprinting inside, your heart doing flips the whole way.

michael had gone home that night in a daze, staring up at his ceiling until the sun came up. he could still feel the dizzying taste of you still lingering on his tongue.

every time he closed his eyes, his mind flashed back to the way you ground down against him. he couldn't shake the memory of those little moans slipping from your lips whenever he'd rub against you just right. it had taken everything in him not to cum in his pants.

though, what happened after that was between him and the four walls of his bedroom.

on the other hand, every time you tried to do something productive, your mind wandered.

all you could think about was how his dick had twitched against your clit through your jeans — god, he'd felt so big. even through two layers of denim, he felt so thick, so hard beneath you. you could still feel the pressure of his fingers digging into your hips, dragging you down so he could grind up into you harder. your underwear had been soaking wet, rubbing against him.

and fuck, his mouth.

you couldn’t stop your mind from going to the dirtiest places. if he was that needy without even being touched, what would he be if you actually did more? you couldn’t help but picture him pinning you down on a bed, gripping your thighs to pull them wide open, and just rutting himself inside you— 

no. what were you thinking?

you shoved yourself up from the bed, practically marching into the bathroom before you could let your mind wander any further down that rabbit hole.

turning the tap all the way to the right, you waited until the water ran freezing cold before splashing a handful over your face. the icy shock hit your skin like a slap, stealing a gasp from your lungs as water dripped down your neck and into the collar of your shirt.

you grabbed a towel and dried your face before staring at yourself in the mirror.

get a grip. what is wrong with you?

you headed back to your bedroom, finally feeling a little more grounded. the second you sat down, the phone rang. it was michael, his voice soft and hesitant as he asked if you wanted to come over for a while.

before you could even talk yourself out of it, you were pulling into his driveway.

stepping into his house, the familiar warmth of the place did nothing to settle the nerves twisting in your gut. 

michael greeted you with a small smile before gesturing toward the stairs. 

you followed him upstairs, the familiar routine of making your way to his bedroom easing some of the tension in your chest. once inside, michael crossed the room to switch on his stereo, keeping the music low while you kicked off your shoes and settled onto the carpet with your back against the side of his mattress.

when he turned around and saw you'd already claimed the floor, he laughed softly before flopping face-down onto the bed. he slid down until his head hung over the edge.

"you're really gonna sit on the floor? there's a whole bed right here," he said, his voice all soft.

"yeah, well, the carpet is cooler. plus, you take up the whole mattress anyway," you said, resting your arms on your knees.

"i do not," he scoffed, rolling onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. he tucked his hands behind his head.

you fell back into your usual conversation.

you both were great at not addressing the elephant in the room.

a wave of relief washed over you as you listened to him ramble about some silly show he'd stayed up watching the night before. you'd spent the entire drive over with sweaty palms, convinced he was going to sit you down and talk about what happened in his car.

just listening to the sound of his voice, the knot in your chest finally began to loosen. your mind was still a little loud — it was impossible to completely forget the way he'd gripped your hips — but his easy, familiar energy grounded you. he wasn't pushing or making things awkward, and for the first time in days, it almost felt like nothing had changed.

"oh, wait, i almost forgot," michael said, popping up onto his elbows. he looked down at you, his eyes bright with that boyish excitement he always got whenever he had something new to show you. "i got something yesterday. hold on."

he scrambled off the bed and padded over to his closet. after rummaging around for a moment, he pulled out a colourful cardboard box.

"twister?" you asked, reading the bold letters on the front as he walked back over.

"yeah!" he grinned, dropping to his knees on the carpet as he tore the plastic wrap off the box. "i saw it the other day and i had to get it."

you chuckled, shaking your head as you crawled over to help him clear a space on the bedroom floor.

"michael, you know you're way too flexible for this to be a fair fight."

"that's not true," he scoffed, shaking out the large white mat covered in bright red, blue, yellow, and green dots. "you have good balance. 's totally fair. here, you spin first."

he tossed the little cardboard spinner toward you, and for the first ten minutes, it was just stupid fun. you kept up your usual chatter, laughing and teasing each other every time the spinner landed on something inconvenient.

it felt normal.

but the game had no intention of letting it stay that way.

"left hand, green," michael muttered, reaching over his own arm to flick the spinner. he glanced down at where the arrow landed before looking back up at you with a grin. "right foot, red for you."

you groaned, eyeing the mat. to reach the only open red dot, you had to stretch directly over him. keeping both hands planted on their blue dots, you lifted your hips and stretched your leg across, hovering right above him.

michael was propped up on his left hand and right foot, waiting for you to make your move. but the second you shifted, his breath caught.

from where he was on the floor, he had an unobstructed, up-close view of your ass, the fabric of your shorts pulled taut as you stretched into the awkward position.

michael's brain blanked. the playful comment he was about to make died in his throat. he tried — he really did — to look away.

he blinked hard, forcing his gaze toward the closet door, then down to his hand on the green dot as his breathing picked up.

but it was like a magnet. his gaze snapped right back to you, tracing the curve of your hips as his mind flashed to the heat of his car a few nights ago — to the memory of exactly how it had felt to hold you right there.

heat flooded his veins, burning all the way up to the tips of his ears. 

"okay," you said, letting out a breath as your foot settled on the red dot. "your turn. spin it."

the mat had become so crowded that michael had to awkwardly lean over his own arm to reach the spinner again, letting out a strained laugh as he stretched across the mat. as he shifted, you adjusted to give him room.

"don't move," you panted, your arms beginning to shake. "if you move, i'm gonna fall."

"i'm trying, i swear—" michael started, a breathless laugh escaping him as he glanced up at you. but his foot slipped on the smooth plastic.

you let out a yelp before collapsing straight onto him. the two of you tumbled into a tangled heap, laughing as you landed sprawled across his chest, your hips settling over his lap.

for a second, you were both recovering from the fall, your laughter echoing in the bedroom. but as your giggles faded and you leaned up on your elbows to look down at him, the amusement vanished.

michael went still beneath you. his hands hovered uncertainly by your waist, trembling as though he didn't know where to put them. he stared straight up at you, his chest rising and falling beneath yours, his lips slightly parted as his breath caught. up this close, his eyes were wide, his pupils so blown they nearly swallowed the brown of his irises.

it felt like the universe was doing everything it could to push you together. you were seriously starting to think you'd jinxed yourself. every time you convinced yourself things were finally back to normal, the universe found a way to prove you wrong within minutes.

because beneath the fabric of your shorts, you felt the unmistakable hardness growing against your thigh.

michael’s gaze darted to where your hips were pressed against his. he looked mortified, caught red-handed in a way he couldn't hide.

his hands came to rest at your waist. with the gentlest touch, he tried to ease you back and off him.

"'m sorry," he whispered, his voice real soft as he gave you a small, embarrassed smile. "it'll go away if y'just... give me a minute."

the way you were looking at him had him bringing up both his hands up, burying his face in his palms to hide the crimson flushing his cheeks.

he looked so sweet and so overwhelmed. it made you lean down closer towards him.

"I swear I didn't invite y’over for this," his muffled voice came from behind his hands. He slowly lowered his palms, his dark skin flushed a deep crimson all the way to the tips of his ears as he looked up at you. "I jus’ wanted to hang out with you… like before."

you bit the inside of your cheeks. "i know, mikey," you said, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. "’s been weird not seeing you as much the last few days.”

“yeah?”

"yeah," you murmured, looking down at him. now that you were this close, keeping up the casual front was getting harder. "but if i'm being honest... i haven't really been able to stop thinking about it. ever since the couch... and the car."

michael's eyes searched yours, his features softening as the tension melted from his shoulders. he let out a long, slow exhale, his head settling back against the carpet.

when he looked at you again, his gaze wandered over your face, lingering like he was trying to memorize every detail.

"i missed you these last few days... and i miss y'now, even when you're sittin' right here." he swallowed. "i jus'..." he whispered, searching your face. "i jus' wanna be close t'you."

his fingertips tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "i wanna hold you." his voice faltered. "i don't wanna keep pretendin' this doesn't mean somethin'."

he let out a slow breath, his forehead nearly brushing yours. "...i think i need you more than i know what t'do with."

for a moment, you couldn't find a single thing to say. a surge of giddiness hit you so hard you had to fight to keep your face from splitting into a grin. you desperately swallowed down the high-pitched squeal threatening to bubble up your throat, forcing yourself to keep it together so you wouldn't give away just how badly he'd short-circuited your brain. 

so you did the only thing you could think of.

you leaned down and kissed him, your hands framing his face, your fingers curling against his jaw as you pulled him up to you. 

the kiss spoke for itself, pouring every ounce of the frustration and longing you couldn't put into words straight into his mouth.

you parted your lips, sliding your tongue against his with an urgency that drew a muffled gasp from him. 

the sound only made you press closer, your chest flattening against his as you drank him in. 

there was a profound ache to the kiss. almost like the release of all the secret longing he'd been hiding away for days. it felt like he was pouring his whole soul into your mouth, every stroke of his tongue tracing a quiet plea against yours. he kissed you like a man who had been starving in the dark, his lips sealing over yours with a reverent hunger that made your chest ache. 

he dragged his mouth away from yours, his breath coming in shallow puffs as he kissed a trail down your cheek, his lips hot against your skin. he pressed a string of kisses along your chin and jaw before his mouth found your neck. 

a quiet moan slipped from your lips as he found the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. his lips parted as he sucked gently at the soft skin, the drag of his mouth making your hips twitch against his lap. 

you slid your hand down his chest, past his belt, until your palm rested over the hard ridge beneath the fabric, giving it a gentle squeeze.

michael choked on his breath, his hand flying to still your wrist.

"i wanna make you feel good too, mikey.”

"y'don't have to... 's not good for you," he whispered, his fingers trembling around your wrist. 

"not good for me?" you murmured, tilting your head. "but it was fine for you to do it to me?"

he bit his lip, looking away. "'s different f'you. you're... you're a lady. i don't want you messin' with somethin'... like that." 

you bit back a smile. "like what?"

"somethin'... dirty," he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“michael, you tongue-fucked me in the backseat of your car, but this is where you draw the line?”

your blunt words made him look like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. he immediately buried his face behind both hands, heat rushing into his cheeks. 

"d-don't say it like that," he mumbled from behind his hands. 

you laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his knuckles before gently pulling his hands away. 

leaning closer, you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, dragging your lips to the sensitive skin just underneath his ear. “please let me, mikey. i want to. don’t you wanna feel good?”

his fingers reached up to gently tangle in your hair, holding you close.

"i do..." he whispered. he swallowed hard, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. "i want to so bad... it's jus' scary. y'make me... so nervous." he let out a quiet laugh before biting his lower lip.

"me? make you nervous?" you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips.

instead of answering, michael slid his hand from your hair, trailing down your arm until his palm found yours. he wrapped his fingers around your hand and guided it to his chest, pressing your palm firmly over his heart, letting you feel how rapidly it was beating. 

"see?" he whispered, his eyes locked on yours. 

you let out a quiet breath before taking his other hand and guiding it to the center of your chest, your heart hammering just as hard beneath his palm.

a soft exhale escaped him before his fingers slid from your chest to cup your jaw. he caught your lips in a kiss, sealing his mouth over yours. 

slowly, you broke the kiss and shifted off him, moving until you were kneeling between his legs at the edge of the twister mat. michael's breath caught, his arms falling back against the carpet, his fingers gripping the edge of the plastic mat as he watched you. the room felt impossibly quiet now, the low music from his stereo nothing more than a distant hum beneath the sound of his shallow breathing.

looking down at the waistband of his trousers, a fresh wave of nerves washed over you. you couldn't believe you were seeing michael — of all people — like this.

your fingers trembled as you reached out, your knuckles brushing the fabric. you worked the button of his trousers loose, the click of the metal loud in the quiet room. carefully, you pulled his zipper down. 

michael's stomach rolled as he drew in a heavy breath, his abdomen tightening while you parted the denim and gently eased his underwear down just enough. 

when he finally sprang free, your breath caught. he was thick, long, already glistening at the tip, the length of him pulsing faintly in the light.

tentatively, you wrapped your fingers around the base of him, giving him a soft, experimental squeeze. 

michael let out a sharp hiss through his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut as his back stiffened against the side of the bed.

"o-oh— my—" he gasped, his knuckles paling where around the carpet under his hands. 

"am i hurting you?" you asked, your hand halting.

"no, no," he rushed out between heavy breaths. he glanced down at your hand around him before lifting his eyes back to yours, his voice dropping into a shaky murmur. "jus'... 's real sensitive. your hands are cold." 

you let out a breathy laugh. “‘m sorry.”

wanting to tease him a little, you extended your index finger. carefully, you traced the pad of your finger along the prominent vein running beneath his length. 

michael let out a strained groan, his hips squirming weakly against the floor. you kept your eyes on his face, watching his eyelids flutter and his throat bob with every stroke. 

when your hand reached the very top, you lightened your touch until it was barely there. using just the tip of your finger, you slowly circled the crown, swirling through the clear bead of pre-cum gathering there. 

a loud whimper slipped from his lips, his hips jerking upward. he bit down hard on his lower lip, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. he didn't think he'd ever been more turned on in his life. 

"please," he breathed, his voice cracking as his eyes grew glassy. "please don't tease me."

"but you like it, don't you?" you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips.

michael let out a strained sound, his head falling back as he stared helplessly at the ceiling. 

"don't you, mikey?" you coaxed.

"don't... don't make me say it," he whispered, an embarrassed laugh slipping free as his shoulders shook. 

you smiled but didn't press him any further. instead, you shifted closer, leaning down between his thighs as your hand stroked him with more purpose, your thumb smoothing over the ridge. 

when you finally parted your lips and took the warm, wet tip of him into your mouth, michael let out a broken moan, gasping as you swirled your tongue around the crown. his eyebrows pinched together as he looked down at you.

your long lashes cast soft shadows against your flushed cheeks as your eyes lifted to meet his. his chest tightened. he couldn't stop staring at the way your lips moved around him, at the shine of your mouth every time you pulled back before taking him in again. you looked so pretty.

too pretty to be doing this to him.

every filthy thought he'd been too embarrassed to let himself have came rushing forward all at once, and for the first time, he didn't have it in him to push them away.

all he wanted was more. deeper. slower. again. he didn't know where one thought ended and the next began anymore. his hands flew straight up to cover his mouth, trying to muffle helpless whimpers spilling out.

and you took that as a challenge to see just how loud you could get him.

you wrapped your fingers firmly around his base, your hand acting as an anchor. you focused entirely on the very top. you parted your lips just enough to take the sensitive crown back into your mouth, using the flat of your tongue to apply a heavy pressure, dragging it flat across the ridge in long strokes.

above you, michael's entire body stiffened. a gasp caught behind his palms.

you didn't give him a second to recover. keeping your tongue flat against the underside of the tip, you swirled it in tight circles right over the slit, matching the pace with a pulsing squeeze of your hand at the base.

a high, broken whine tore from his throat, his hands flying to your head as his lower body gave a helpless twitch, his hips lifting off the carpet. he tried to ground himself, his long legs tensing, but god, you were killing him.

the slick sound of your mouth sucking him so greedily was so filthy.

michael's hips jerked upward again, pushing him deeper into your mouth. 

just as he was about to apologize, you swallowed past the tightness in your throat and hummed against him. the vibration drew a pathetic little squeak from him.

you wrapped your free hand around the very base of him, twisting your palm as you slid it up to meet your lips, catching the trailing wetness before spreading it back down his length. your mouth settled into a slow, sloppy rhythm. 

you pushed forward, taking his dick deeper down your throat than before. the heavy stretch forced a gag from your chest, tears welling up in your eyes and spilling over your lashes from the intrusion.

he was practically trying to run from you, backing up until his shoulders bumped against the edge of the bed, trapped between the frame and the pull of your mouth. 

you kept your eyes on his, taking in every flicker of pleasure across his face, every flutter of his lashes, every pinch of his brows. you wanted to remember him exactly like this, committing every twitch of his jaw and every dark flush to memory. 

watching him lose himself underneath you made your own core throb. you subtly pressed your thighs together, hoping the pressure would dull the ache. it didn't. 

"w-wait, wait, 'm gonna— ah—" 

his voice broke completely, a high, panicked whimper tearing through the room as his abdomen knotted.

michael panicked, realizing you weren't getting off. his hand frantically shot down to grip your shoulder, trying to pull you up and off him, desperate to keep you from getting a mouthful of something he was convinced would gross you out. 

but you weren't a quitter.

you gently brushed his hands away, tightening your grip on his base without pulling away. 

he came with a loud, broken groan, his hips giving three jolts forward. your name slipped from his lips in a breathless whine that you knew would replay in your mind for days. you held him tight through the tremors, swallowing down the hot bursts of his cum, continuing to suck softly even as his body shivered and went lax against the edge of the bed.

when the final twitch subsided, you slowly slid your mouth off him, the wet sound of the release echoing in the quiet of the bedroom. you swallowed the last of him, cleaning up the stray wetness along his length with a slow swipe of your tongue before sitting back on your heels.

michael was a puddle against the side of his bed. his chest was heaving in deep drafts, one arm flung over his eyes while the other lay limp across the carpet, his fingers still twitching every now and then. the deep crimson in his cheeks had spread all the way down his neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. 

michael let out a weak little groan from beneath his arm as you tucked him back into his pants. slowly, he peeked out from under his elbow, his large, glassy eyes lifting to you as you climbed back over him. 

he reached out, his fingers finding yours before gently pulling your hand toward him. he lifted it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss into the center of your palm, his lips warm against your skin. 

bringing his face close to yours, he leaned in, his eyelids fluttering shut as he pressed a tender kiss to your left cheek, then your right, his curls brushing against your face. when he finally found your lips, the kiss was slow and so, so sweet.

you pulled back just an inch, your fingers resting on his shoulders as you looked down at his flushed face. a playful smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 

“i won, by the way.”

michael let out a quiet huff of a laugh, his shoulders shaking beneath you.

"you did not," he protested "the mat was slippery, 's all. it don't count."

"it does count," you laughed, finally climbing off him to sit cross-legged on the carpet.

"absolutely not. you fell right on top of me!"

"yeah, because you moved and made me fall!" you shot back, gesturing at the crumpled plastic. "you lost your footing, michael. just admit it."

“i didn’t lose because the game was rigged," he insisted.

"keep telling yourself that."

"y’know what, i will," he murmured, a soft grin breaking across his face.

you rolled your eyes, reaching over to help him gather up the ruined twister mat that was probably headed straight for the trash.

you were glad the awkwardness of the last few days had finally melted away. you and michael were still the same two idiots arguing over who won a game of twister.

the only thing that had changed was everything in between.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───

im so bad at writing endings like GODDDDD

and twister positions

i had a bit of a diff vision for this originally but unfortunately i stink with words so i'll see if i can make up for it in a potenial p3

also his confession was (loosely) inspired by the intro of his song, i can't stop loving you :p