It's Goin' Down, Baby 🔪❣️

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀I CAN'T BEAR IT 󠀠󠀠󠀠⠀ ⠀ .𖥔 ݁ ˖⧽⠀ ⠀pt2 ⠀BROKEN LENSES

Synopsis: After Michael snaps at paparazzi his true nature is revealed to the world. Forcing him to decide how to confront the situation at hand.

pt1⠀ ⠀ m.list⠀ ⠀.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⠀cw: MDNI18+, Joseph has plot relevance, brief mention of court allegations, angst, Michael insight.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀wc: 1.5k

synopsis: mature! michael has started to have to wear reading glasses and he hates it.

warnings: none

notes: just a quick thing i wrote bc i think michael in his glasses is my favorite!!

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

you were finishing up your shower after a long eventful day with your husband. he had some time off so you two decided to spend the day doing your favorite things. the morning was spent lounging around the house in your pjs watching old movies. during the afternoon you went out shopping for new home decor. you loved shopping for decor with michael. he had the perfect eye for art and knew exactly where to put it in the large home. you and michael had been living in your home for about a year now, but were always finding new things to fill it with. the day ended with ordering takeout from one of your favorite restaurants continuing the movie marathon from earlier.

the bathroom smelt of a mixture of lavender and vanilla. once stepping out you got dressed in one of michael’s t-shirts and slid on your slippers from your honeymoon. engraved on the top was “mrs”. you smiled at the realization for the thousandth time that you two were now husband and wife. closing the bathroom door quietly your eyes landed on your husband in the bed. he was up reading one of his many novels. sitting on his nose were his reading glasses. michael was very embarrassed wearing them around you. as he got older he needed them more often and it was frustrating for him. he didn’t felt attractive in them and he always wanted to look his best for you. however, you thought he looked even more handsome if that was even possible.

he looked up from you and quickly removed the glasses from his face placing them on the nightstand. he let out a breathy laugh adjusting his position in the bed.

“hey baby! how was your shower?” he asks.

a soft smile was plastered on your face as you walked over to him. you climbed into the bed sliding down on his lap. he looked up at you with those beautiful brown eyes you loved so much.

“why do you keep trying to hide these things from me?” you ask.

he gave you a confused look but he understand what you were talking about. you grabbed the glasses from the nightstand and let them dangle from your fingers.

“baby you know how i feel about those things. they age me and i’m already getting old enough so they’re not really helping me out here”. he says.

“i know baby but you need them and that’s okay. when you don’t use them you’re just up all night squintin and i know all of that gives you a headache”. you say.

michael sighs and places both hands over his face. he lets out a deep laugh behind his hands. you grab both of his hands and kiss the palms of each. you then begin to pepper kisses all over his face making him laughing even louder and harder.

“you’re damn right about the headaches. just makes me insecure most of the time. we already have this age gap going on so i’m feelin like grandpa”. he says.

now it was your turn to laugh. the age gap between the two of you was around sixteen years. michael was a bit on the fence with such a large age gap. at the same time he knew that you were the only woman he could see himself with for the rest of his life. you on the other hand barely ever thought about the age gap.

“you’re perfect to me always no matter what you wear or what you look like. you don’t ever have to feel worried about anything when you’re with me. you’re my husband the man i love. you could wear damn bifocals and i’d still think you’re the most handsome man around”. you say.

michael smiles at you and gives you multiples kisses on your lips. you turn the glasses towards him with a warning look in his eyes signaling for him to put them on. he purses his lips and lets out a deep sigh. he grabs the glasses from you and slides them on his face. his head was facing down not daring to meet your eyes. you lightly place your finger to his chin raising his gaze. you gave him a toothy grin and his cheeks began to turn red.

“you really do have a way with words angel you know that? ”. he says.

“i try my best baby. now tell me more about what you’re reading!” you say grabbing the book.

⋮ ⌗ based on this comment from a tiktok video, @ANALISE: "Apparently his costume designer did an interview stating they had to regularly tuck, but it was so massive it wouldn’t stay in place sometimes. It was a whole thing, and Michael used to make jokes about it. I just made all that up, but I hope you had fun reading it."┆

⋮ ⌗ 🏷️┆michael jackson x costume designer! reader, hand job (balls included) oral (m receiving), manual stimulation, arousal, moaning, whimpering, self conflict, rushed ending.

⋮ ⌗ doleuia┆hope yall enjoyed thisss, u guys feedback is very wanted so plsss dont be scared to comment 💟

taglist: @flygirlarchivee

michael frustratingly sighed as he stood in front of the full body mirror, his hands tugging uselessly at the waistband of his pants. no matter how he adjusted the pants or himself—the thick bulge refused to settle.

he felt like such a pervert for the thoughts running through his head like the way your fingers had brushed against him earlier, so careful yet so warm.

he knew it was just part of your job, but he couldn’t stop replaying it. part of him was convinced you had been flirting with him all day with the little smiles, the lingering touches, and the teasing tones while while another part told him maybe he couldn't handle what was just simple courtesy from a pretty woman who was just trying to do her job.

so why the hell was his body reacting like this?

he kept telling himself he shouldn’t want this. he shouldn’t need your hands on him again, even calling you back in felt like crossing a line he should've never uncross.

yet the ache wouldn’t go away.

"y/n," he finally called, voice a little strained.

"yes, mike?" you stepped into his private dressing room and locked the door behind you. michael was standing there in the gold leather pants, the obvious, heavy outline on display.

"it's still not staying?" you asked, keeping your eyes where they were.

"it just won't stay down tonight," he admitted quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. "i tried the double boxers like we usually do, but… it’s not working."

you walked over with a confused look. "that's weird, double boxers always work."

you dropped to your knees and placed your hands over the front of his boxers, pressing his hard manhood through the fabric. you tried pushing him down and to the side, molding the thick length with your palms and fingers. your touch was slow and deliberate through the thin material. you knew exactly what you were doing.

you bit your lip, a rush of heat flooding through you at the way his cock throbbed under his briefs to your palms. you let your fingers drag teasingly along his length one last time gaining something like a shudder from him.

after a few moments you pulled your hands back and gave him a satisfied little nod. "okay, try pulling them back up and show me if it’s fixed."

michael’s hands shook slightly as he adjusted his boxers and pulled the leather pants up.

the bulge was still painfully obvious— fully straining and heavy against the fabric. you made a dramatic yikes face, tilting your head as you studied it.

"hmm… i have an idea,"you said slowly, voice low and mischievous, "but you have to be very open minded, michael."

michael’s ran his hand down his face, the internal battle raging. "oh god, please just fix me. i know i have no less than forty minutes."

you smiled up at him sweetly, the picture of innocence while your mind was anything but pure.

you were gonna fix him alright.

your hand slipped beneath the waistband at last, you started tucking him again, pressing his hard length sideways and down, but this time you moved slower. your palm rubbed deliberately along the underside of his shaft as you "adjusted" him.

"mmm." a low whimper slipped from his lips leaving you to smile and start stroking him a little more openly now instead of what you were asked initially to do.

you glanced up. "am i fixing it, mike?"

you started doing long, slow rubs from base to tip, letting your thumb circle the head each time. his cock twitched hard in your grip, growing even thicker.

michael let out a soft moan that he deeply tried but failed to swallow. "y-yes, oh god." he breathed.

you smiled up at him, still stroking his thick length with those slow, deliberate movements. your thumb kept circling the sensitive head, spreading the bead of precum that had formed. you could feel him throbbing heavily in your hand, getting even harder despite his guilt.

"but you’re not getting softer at all, mike," you whispered, your voice all sweet and playful, “if anything... you’re getting bigger."

he turned his head away, cheeks burning with shame but his body quickly betrayed him by his hips twitching forward into your grip, chasing the slow friction.

after another slow stroke you paused, hand still wrapped around him, and looked up with a fake innocent expression.

"maybe i should stop?" you asked softly, biting your lip. michael’s eyes snapped back to you, wide and desperate. "no!" he breathed quickly, almost pleading. "please, don’t stop."

the admission seemed to embarrass him even more, but the need in his voice was unmistakable. you were satisfied and resumed stroking him with those long, lazy movements.

"oh no," you said in a obviously fake concerned tone, eyes wide like you were genuinely worried. "i should be doing a better job then, shouldn’t i?"

michael gave a shaky nod and that was all the consent you needed.

"will do," you purred, and with that you pulled his doubled boxers down to his ankles before leaning in closer, letting your warm breath fan over his flushed cock.

you pressed a slow, open mouthed kiss right to the tip, tasting him. michael shuddered hard, another broken whimper leaving his lips.

you began kissing along the underside of his length before swirling your tongue around the head, a taste of his salty-sweet precum.

you took your time sinking down on him, lips stretching around his thickness as you bobbed your head steadily and deep until your hand had to accommodate what you couldn't fit, stroking and twisting just in time with your mouth.

a long groan filled the room as his hands moved from your shoulder to your hair, gripping your coils and wrapping them into a makeshift bun then his hips pushed forward, thrusting deeper into your mouth making you gagged hard around him.

michael immediately froze, eyes snapping open in shock. he quickly pulled you off of him, looking horrified. "shit– i am so, so sorry, i got carried away–"

ou cut him off by grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand back to your hair. "do it again," you said, voice eager, putting your mouth right onto the front of his cock and waiting for him.

michael stared down at you, his chest heaving as he tried to find his bearings. he started with uncertain, slow thrusts… one… then another. he was still holding back, terrified of hurting you, his movements tentative and agonizingly slow.

so you decided to push him over the edge.

you slid one hand down and cupped his balls, gently rolling and massaging them. the sudden touch caught him completely off guard. michael gasped sharply, hips jerking forward hard, his rhythm finally broke into a faster, deeper, more desperate pace, soon he was fucking your throat with urgent, powerful thrusts.

the hesitation quickly evaporated. his rhythm broke into a faster and more deeper pace, his past feelings completely swallowed up by pure, raw need. soon he was fucking your throat with urgent, powerful thrusts.

the wet, obscene 'gulk, gulk, gulk' sounds filled the dressing room like a filthy rhythm as you moaned around him, taking every thrust as your hand continued playing with his balls while you sucked him with hollow cheeks, tongue pressing firmly along the underside

"fuck, your mouth," he gasped, fingers tightening in your hair, time seemed to stretch as he used your throat, his face twisted with pleasure every deep push.

you let him have you like that for what felt like an eternity, eyes watering, spitting dribbling down your chin, your throat visibly full but never pulling away. the tension built heavier with every thrust, every choked moan, every squeeze of your hand on his balls.

his gaze was glassy, lips parted, cheeks flushed deep red. the shy, untouchable michael jackson was falling apart in front of you, reduced to whimpers and moans because of your mouth and your hands.

"’m close," he warned, his voice shaky. "if you don’t stop i’m gonna–"

you cut him off by pulling back and licking slowly all the way down his shaft until you reached his balls. you sucked and licked them gently while both hands wrapped around his wet cock, jerking him fast.

you could feel his cock twitched violently in your grip before the thick spurt landed across your forehead, followed by another then quickly you took him back into your mouth, sucking hard as he came hard down your throat making you swallowed every drop and milking him until he was completely empty.

forbidden fruit

req sent by ? anon : hear me out…..dad’s best friend michael

❛ dbf!michael　𝑥　𝒻 black woc!reader ❜     ╱    𝓶.list 𓂋 mdni . just to preface i made it clear that michael did not know reader when she was a child , she was of age when they met and it's open to interpretation to who your father is , but just know he's famous ofc . invinciblel!michael . michael is perverted old man . age gap . reader is lowkey bratty . shitty hollywood boyfriend . cunnilingus . fingering . raw penetration . praising . a hint of mean!michael & cocky!michael. ℘ 1.554k

𝓻𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬⠀ ⠀𝐚𝐫𝐞⠀ ⠀𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝⠀!

dbf!michael . . . who met your father late in his career, like i'm talking around or just before invincible and they just instantly clicked. so when your father invites him over for dinner for the first time he of course can't deny.

dbf!michael . . . who thinks that you were a pretty gift sent just from him when he comes over for dinner, still standing in the foyer when you come easily skipping down the stairs, the setting sun creating a hazy glow around you from the bay windows.

NSFW Alphabet with Manager!Michael

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

PART ONE HERE

Okay, okay, we're expanding a little here!

Manager! Michael will sometimes suggest rehearsing with you. You're very excited, of course, Michael Jackson is offering to tutor you on choreography. And boy, what a mistake that was for him because he's very, very handsy.

He tries not to make it too obvious, trying to tell you how and where to place your feet for a certain move. It's a little cold in the room to counter the sweat that will happen there, but with your nipples rocking out behind your tank top, it's like a magnet for his eyes. He's latched in.

He'll place his big, warm hands on your hips to direct a movement slowly, and you're linking eyes with him in the mirror, but it's too intense for Michael. He's half-hard, always adjusting himself here and there, especially when your bodies collide. He's half-hoping you'll throw all ideas of actual dance rehearsal out the window, because it's in the middle of the night, no one around, just you, him, and the camera recording your movements.

Oh, another thing! He's wary about cameras recording, it's very invasive to him and anything can be sold to the media, but! If he could have it his way, he would make movies with you. I'm talking about feature-length films of him folding you in half, fucking his hips into yours, your face near the camera as it catches every bounce, jolt, and jiggle your body makes in response to his lovemaking.

God, he wishes he could store those recordings of your naked body writhing over him, filmed in a POV setting, so if he watches back on it, he can literally envision himself underneath you as he strokes his cock hard to the sight of you bouncing over his body in the video.

🐆💋 𝟏𝟖+ — Mature!Michael and his lovely wife who leaves photos in his iPhone. Poor Michael struggles with phones, but, strangely enough, when it comes to finding your pictures, he tries to turn into the biggest tech there is. If this man could have your pictures plastered everywhere, he would, and has. Michael keeps different photos of you in beautiful frames you picked out all over his office, in your shared bedroom, and everywhere else in the house. His phone had no choice but to be a victim of it.

You’ve found yourself holding his phone more than he has, it always ends up in your hands and you never realize it until Michael points it out with a cheeky smile on his face.

You’ll end up taking pictures of Michael, he’ll pose for you, and as much as he loves it; the selfies you take are his most cherished. The pretty fits you wear with your cleavage showing, bad lighting, and camera quality that somehow enhances your looks.

You, of course, send Michael risky pictures of yourself with a text saying: “Careful where you look at this from.” Then a spam of pictures of you in different lingerie and dresses he loves to see you in. He’ll bite his bottom lip, his finger running over his lips with a boner slowly rising, and his mind quickly forgetting he’s in public before someone calls his name.

Michael’s favorite pictures of you are the ones where you’re in a white lacy bra and panties, with a white lacy blindfold on to match, and white red bottoms on. Your pretty wedding ring is somehow the star of the show with your mouth wrapped around your ring and middle fingers in one pose. Then, in the next picture, your panties down to your heels as you sit on the floor in front of the mirror that faces your bed with your fingers pressed on your folds, displaying your swollen clit to show Michael what he’s been missing.

His camera roll is full of you, selfies, and all. Which is why he’s a bit overprotective of who gets to use his phone because he’s scared someone will find them. They never do. It’s for his eyes anyway, and when he’s away too long, he’ll use them as a quick relief but nothing is better than the real you.

Nothing compares to hearing your sweet moans and whines muffled against the microphone as the sounds of your dildo pushes in and out of your squelching pussy while you hand mimics his thrusts. Michael yearns for those calls, because while you’re busy pleasuring yourself for his ears, he’s busy staring at your pictures.

Michael loves his beautiful wife and your addiction to his phone. Everyone complains about how he can’t handle new technology and he should change it, yet, that smirk he gives them and tells them he has someone at home who can, lets them know to mind their business.

──── ❤︎

You & michael were laid up in your bed half-naked, the warm amber light casting a subtle glow on his face & bare chest as you watched him talk about his recording session today. You place your hand on his cheek, caressing softly as you admire him.

His eyes glimmer with excitement as he tells you about his day, you nod on, smiling, occasionally running a hand through his dishevelled curls.

“And you know, for lady in my life, that was my first romantic song I’ve ever sung, I felt a bit shy.” He says lowly.

You pout, “how so baby?”

“Well, Quincey said he wasn’t feeling my other attempts. Said he wasn’t satisfied. I didn’t know what he meant, but then he told me to beg for it, beg for her.”

Michael looks down with a little nervous smile, his cheeks flushed a slight pink. He remembers Quincey's words to him.

"You need a muse Michael, think of somethin." Quincey had said, taking a drag of his cigarette.

You were the first thing that popped into his mind in that moment.

Your eyebrows raise, “Beg?”

“Yeah…and I knew what he meant. But I’ve never sung like that before, God, I was so embarrassed. I had to close the curtains between me & him, then turn the lights off. It was only then I could sing it the way he wanted.”

You giggle, planting a kiss on his lips. “You bring a demo home so I can hear?”

Michael leans back, pulling out a tape from the side drawer. It’s labelled ‘final take.’

“The main thing I wanted to say was, I thought of you. The first take I was just singin' y’know, but the final take where he told me to beg for it, I had to think of you to get me there. I imagined I was begging for your love.”

Your eyes are laced with love as you place a hand on your chest sincerely.

“Oh Michael,” you whisper.

You gently take the tape from his hands, placing it in the cassette player. You press play, the smooth melodic tune making you blush and chuckle immediately.

You lie back on his chest, his arms wrapped around you as you both listen to the song play gently in the background.

♪ Lay back in my tenderness, let's make this a night we won't forget, girl, I need your sweet caress, oh, reach out to a fantasy, two hearts in a beat of ecstasy, come to me, girl

The sound of his voice singing the lyrics with such passion & desire makes your skin tingle. You look up at him from below, he looks shy and closed off. You can see he’s trying to fight it, but he wanted you to hear how much he loves you. You decide to bring him in for a kiss, your hand planted on the nape of his neck as the song continues muffled in the background. Your tongues dance in rhythm to the music, your breath hitching & your skin burning up.

“I love you so much, baby. Just wanna touch you.” He trembles.

Before you knew it, all remaining clothes had been taken off, & it’s just you & him on top of the sheets giving each other exactly what he was begging for in that studio, sweet love.

𑣲⋆

@plumppies

@michaeldiary

@sweeterners

@multifandomposts-blog

@2222bad

@simp4eshal

@cinnamoncunt

@freakinme

@sgecat

@instinctprt2

@sugarcookiemj

genre: fluff, one shot, established relationship, kinda domestic au, off the wall era!mj

content: michael was just the cutest thing ever and you couldn’t control your cuteness aggression. so you took a bite… or several bites of him. 

word count: 1.3k

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, biting but not actually hurting, gender neutral!reader, no race specified for reader 

a/n: i felt cuteness aggression for otw michael and i like to bite people i love. i wrote this in around an hour or two from 3 am so i apologise for any mistakes. hope you like it as much as i enjoyed writing it! first time trying a gender neutral fic, lmk if you have any issues. i am more than happy to correct myself

tags: @brownsugarletters @hannimite @cermoore @michaelssugarbby @miratate @liberiangirl7 @izzyy8 @botdfaholic @stormatsea6(dm me if you wanna be in the taglist)

“Here, baby. Let me.” Michael gently scooted you over to stand at the sink before he rolled up his sleeves. You had invited him over to your house, your parents were out of town visiting some people so you had the house to yourself and you weren’t about to waste this opportunity. While the Hayvenhurst estate was beautiful and spacious, Michael just had a large family and you wanted your time spent with him to be uninterrupted. “No it’s okay, I can do it.” you gently pushed at his shoulder but he wouldn’t budge. “You cooked. I clean. You can go relax.” he insisted as he began running the tap to do the dishes. You huffed but conceded as you just lingered around the kitchen before you finally sat at the counter, content with watching him. 

Pairing: Michael Jackson x Black Fem!Reader

Summary: (Based on the Thriller Music video) Michael tries to tell you about his secret curse, but because the full moon comes out unexpectedly, he transforms in front of you.

Tags: 18+(MDNI), slight gore, monster fucker smut, cunnilingus, overstimulation, dubcon, slight dehumanization, scent kink, implied breeding, werecat!Michael thinks like an animal, he has a huge dick obviously, you're scared at first but you like it when he starts eating you out, yes I'm calling him a werecat because he's more cat-looking than a traditional werewolf, he has whiskers too so of course he's a cat, why is there such a lack of monster fucker smut about werecat!Michael, that should be illegal, not proof read etc etc

wc: 1936

Author's Note: Okay, TECHNICALLY, I already made this fic and it was Ola x Michael, but I wanted to make an x reader version for those who would probably prefer it. Also, this is slightly rewritten to be more horror-ish, so be warned.

Michael didn't fully register the exact moment when everything had gone wrong.

All he remembers is that one second, he'd been trying to confess his deepest, darkest secret to you, and the next─his spine arches backward with a sickening, wet crack. He drops to his knees with a howl of pain before the words can even come, clutching his stomach as his body seizes violently. His limbs jerk around in unnatural, jagged angles right before your terrified, confused eyes.

"Oh my god─!" You gasp, stumbling forward, reaching for him instinctively. "Michael? Are you alright?!"

"Get away!" He snaps, his jaw dislocating with a deafening pop, the muscle and skin giving and stretching taut as a feline snout forces its way out from beneath his human face. His face has half-metamorphisized into that of a somewhat grotesque, cat-like creature. His lips have thinned, pulled back over razor-sharp fangs. His tongue, thickened and impossibly longer, rolls out over them briefly. His eyes, once a beautiful deep brown, are now an abrasively bright, feral yellow with pupils that have contracted into needle-thin slits.

The sight is enough to send you recoiling backward, before you freeze in place, only able to scream as you witness his horrific transformation. Mixing with your screams are the agonized, choking wails falling from his lips, slowly melting into a monstrous, blood-curdling roar as the beast within him claws its way out of his skin.

By the time that your body finally catches up to your mind and your legs jerk you backward into a frightened sprint, it's too late. Michael's mind is no longer his own, his transformation was complete.

A vibrating purr rattles deep in his throat as he locks his glowing, slit-pupiled eyes onto your retreating form. The concept of you being his 'girlfriend' or his 'equal' no longer exists.

No, no, you are now far less than that.

You are his prey, nothing more than a piece of meat.

Yet, deep within the dark recesses of the creature's mind, buried under miles of ferality, a fractured remnant of the human in his consciousness feebly tries to resist. No—not her! Please, God, anyone but her!

But even that thought dissolves, consumed by his hot, blinding instinct, screaming at him to chase.

Dropping to all fours, the creature's spine ripples fluidly as he launches himself forward. His massive, padded paws eating up the earth in razor-sharp hooks that gouge deep trenches into the soil as he hunts with no relent.

The beast thrills at the chase. Oh, he loves when his prey runs. Running means your fragile little heart was pumping furiously, ensuring the blood will be boiling and sweet when he finally tears open your hroat. Running means adrenaline, and adrenaline marinates the flesh, which makes for his prey tasting as fresh as a spring breeze.

You are quick for a hairless, soft-skinned thing, but not quick enough. The creature's vision shifts, tunneling entirely onto the frantic movements of your body darting through the trees.

He can hear the desperate thump-thump-thump of your pulse echoing like a drum in his tufted ears.

You didn't even hear when his body left the ground. There is only a sudden, violent gush of wind, and your smaller frame becomes shrouded in a looming shadow.

Then─ a sudden, sickening impact.

The sheer force of the beast slamming into you knocks the scream straight out of your lungs. You gasp in shock as his heavy, sickle-shaped claws punch straight through the fabric of your shirt, pinning you by the shoulders until you're locked flush against the soil. You writhe in terror, kicking frantically, but the monster’s sheer mass made makes your struggles feel as pathetic as a little mouse caught under a cat's grasp.

The beast shifts his weight, the joints in his jaw popping wetly as he opens his maw wider, the fur of his snout brushing against your hair as it searches for the soft, pulsating artery at your throat.

One bite, one crunch, and this babbling, soft-skinned creature's spine will snap.

He breathes in deeply, and pauses when he catches a... different scent. His head tilts in dangrous curiosity, the scent cutting through his animalistic haze like a blade.

The scent was coming from between your legs... something wet, sweet, and 𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘦.

His nostrils flare as he lowers his massive head, shoving his snout between your trembling thighs, ignoring your weak whimpers and pleas─"W-wait, please don't hurt me, please!"─to live. He inhales, dragging the mouth-watering scent of you into the roof of his mouth until he can taste you on the very his tongue.

The answer registers in his mind: his prey is 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦. A very, 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 ready female. Your body is preparing itself to be mounted by that of a male. That male being him, the same beast who mistook you for nothing but a meal just seconds ago.

His hunger for the prey's flesh is now fully redirected onto this new, enticing variable. His cock begins to swell, the muscle filling with his arousal until it reached its fullest capacity. The shining pink flesh pushes out of its sheath, heavy and subtly throbbing against the confines of his pesky jeans.

The beast lets out a gutteral snarl, claws digging deeper into the soil, his hips jerking forward twice in evident need, eliciting hitched gasps from your lips. He needs to fill you, he needs to mate with you so thoroughly that no other male can ever touch her.

His claws, still out, scraped the dirt on either side of your head. It's then that he fixates on just how small you are beneath him. So delicate compared to him, so easy to break.

You are no longer screaming, just waiting for him to finish you off. Your chest is rising and falling in panicked breaths, your fear-clouded eyes staring up at him in confusion.

He drops his head down again, shoving his snout between your legs once more with one goal in mind. The fabrics covering you irritated him. Dead things, wrapped around his mate's skin. Why? You're skin is right there, but hidden from him. As if he doesn't already have the right to every single inch of you.

He hooks a claw into the hem of your skirt and pulls.

The fabric tears like wet paper, but it only reveals more fabric underneath. An annoyed growl rumbles deep in his chest as he rips the lacey white strip of fabric off too, carelessly. The scent is stronger without the pesky layers, flooding his senses and making a pearl of pre-cum dribble out of his cockhead's slit.

He eagerly drags the flat of his long, thick tongue alllll the way up from your swollen lips up to your aching clit. The sound you make in response is a high, broken keen, your hips bucking against his face despite yourself. The taste of your essence explodes on his tongue, slick as caramel and sweet as honey, drawing a pleased hum out of him.

His massive jaws part wider, careful not to graze your fragile skin with his fangs as he presses his snout deeper into the warmth between your thighs. You are trembling so violently beneath him, your small hands pushing weakly at his strong shoulders. Yet, your desperate little moans only serve to spur him on.

He needs more.

He drags his tongue along the slick lips of your entrance again, lapping up the wetness that coats your pussy. Michael savors the taste of you, while you squirm and quietly squeal from the sensation.

The moonlight filters through the trees, bathing the both of you in a stunning, winkling silver, and it only serves to further fuel the beast within him. His paws keep your hips down, claws digging into the earthy soil to keep you spread open for him. The mere sight of your leaking pussy being so beautifully highlighted by the silver shade elicits a deep, possessive groan from the creature.

His hot breath huffs over your clit as he licks deeper, probing at your entrance with the tip of his tongue, feeling your gummy walls clench around the intrusion. "Haa..!" You gasp sharply, legs kicking futilely against his sides, but he wouldn't relent.

He continues to lap at you, circling your swollen clit with broad strokes, before flicking it sharply to draw out those broken, delicious moans. The vibration of his growl rumbles through his chest and into your core. He feels your pussy flutter around the thick muscle of his tongue as the first orgasm ripples through you─your juices squirting onto his tongue uncontrollably. He drinks your essence in greedily, his confined cock still aching. Paining and desperate to plunge into you.

Your cries turn into desperate sobs as he didn't stop. His tongue keeps delving back in without pause, lapping at your oversensitive folds while you thrash beneath his weight, hands pushing at his head. "S-stop, ohhh Gooooood, it's too much ─"

Not that he even fully understands what you are saying to him in this transformed state.

All that Michael can register is how her body yields underneath him, the feeling your oussy pulsing and squeezing around his tongue as he pumped in and out, and the obscenely wet squelching sounds it echoing through the quiet forest.

Michael curls his tongue again, scraping against that sensitive spot inside of you, feeling the way your thighs clamp around his head instinctively. Your second orgasm builds quickly, your hips grinding against his snout in desperate, aborted thrusts.

When you finally reach your peak for the second time, a sob of ecstasy tears itself out of your throat as your body convulses under his firm grip and that merciless tongue. He doesn't let you move too much, ensuring you take every lick, until you can't anymore.

✦

A few minutes later...

He loses count after the fifth or sixth time. Maybe the tenth. Your once loud cries have gone soft and hoarse, your body now more still and pliant. Though of course, your hips still jerk forward slightly when he finds a new spot to lick, or a new angle to try.

When yet another orgasm comes to you in shuddering waves that left you utterly boneless, Michael finally pulls back, his tongue withdrawing from your puffy cunt with a wet pop, thin strings of your cum still connecting to his maw. Purring and pleased with how thoroughly he consumed the sweet essence of his mate, Michael licks his chops in contentment.

He crawl up your body until the two of you were face to face, before he licks your cheek, slow and gentle, from your jaw to your temple. You groan in a mixture of bewilderment and shuddering discomfort at the shiny trail of saliva his tongue leaves on your cheek, which was followed by a delirious, almost amused giggle.

"You're... you're purrin'." You whisper, as if you can't believe it.

"...That was... that wasn't too bad." You murmur into his fur as he nuzzles you. It was far from bad... it felt─

Then he grinds into you, reminding you or the presence of his painfully hard cock. You gasp again, your wide eyes finally traveling down his body... riiiightttt down to the monster cock still trapped in his jeans, soaking up his jeans with pre-cum. Understanding dawns on your face as he keeps jerking his hips insistently. There is no doubt about it, you know exactly what he really needs now.

"Oh..."

He licks the salty sweat from your neck, and purrs again.

This is going to be a very, 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 long night.

𖹭

18+ mdni slightly suggestive