#micheal

𝖯𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗑 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒－𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍－𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌

𝖠／𝖭 － 𝗂𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖨'𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍

You’re already burning before he even walks through the door.

Laying in his bed—his sheets, the ones that still smell like his expensive cologne dior—you’ve got nothing on but a white T-shirt and panties, thighs glistening since you’ve been thinking about him all night.

Your body’s hot, heartbeat in your ears, soaked through the lace between your legs.

Every time you close your eyes, you picture the way Smoke touches you—slow, deliberate, like he owns every inch and you better not forget it.

You’re breathing heavy, fingers under the waistband, trying to take the edge off, but the moment his name slips past your lips—

The front door clicks.

Heavy footsteps.

Deep voice.

That low, annoyed grunt he always makes when he’s tired and pissed off but coming home to you.

Smoke stops in the doorway when he sees you on his bed, legs open, shirt riding up, skin shining under the lamp.

“Damn…” he mutters, jaw flexing, eyes dragging over you like he’s starving. “This what you do when I’m gone? Make a mess in my bed?”

You bite your lip, thighs inching wider. “I was thinkin’ bout you.”

He steps closer, slow and predatory, shruggingoff his jacket, his chain clinking as he leans over you.

One hand grabs your jaw, tilting your face up so you look up at him.

“You open wide for me like that, baby?” he murmurs, thumb sliding across your lower lip.

“And you expect me to stay calm?”

Your breath catches as he drags your panties down, tossing them aside.

“Look at you,” he coos, settling between your legs, his breath hot on your inner thigh. “Soaking f’ me… drippin’ everywhere. Didn’t even wait.”

You gasp when his tongue touches you—slow at first, just a tease, just enough to make your hips jerk.

Then he gets mean with it.

Smoke opens your legs wider, tongue flicking, tasting everything.

You grab his head, but he slaps your hand away.

“Don’t you touch,” he says, voice thick and dark. “You wanted this—now you take it.”

Your back arches, heat flooding your stomach, his tongue working you until you’re shaking.

He groans against you, like your taste is something he’s addicted to.

“So good…” you breathe, voice breaking, “Im gonna cum.”

He lifts his head, mouth wet, eyes dangerous.

“Yeah,” he smirks, dragging two fingers through your slit before pushing them inside you slow and teasingly. “I see that.”

You whimper, clutching the sheets.

Smoke sits up, lips brushing your ear as his fingers curl exactly where you need them.

“Now finish what you started,” he whispers.

“Give it to me.”

And he doesn’t let up—not once—until you’re trembling against him, breathless, undone.

Smoke holds you down by the back of your neck, not hard, just firm—possessive—keeping you exactly where he wants you. Your body is still trembling from the last orgasm he dragged out of you, your thighs slick and shaking, your breathing uneven.

He looked at you.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, thumb stroking the side of your throat. “Body still twitchin’… pussy still grabbin’ at nothin’ like it’s beggin’ for me.”

You whimper into the sheets, hips shifting instinctively, chasing him.

Smoke presses a heavy palm to your lower back, forcing your arch deeper, tilting your hips up until you feel stretched open, exposed, aching.

“Stop runnin’,” he warns quietly. “You gon’ take this.”

He slides the tip of his dick back through your wet folds—slow, lazy, knowing exactly what it does to you. He rubs himself against you, teasing your hole, not pushing in yet.

You try to rock your hips back, desperate, needy.

Smoke slaps your ass—sharp, loud.

“Uh-uh. I said slow.”

Your breath stutters.

He aligns himself, the thick head nudging against you, and leans down so his chest brushes your back, his breath hot on your ear.

“Open up f’ me.”

He pushes in.

Deep.

Slow.

So slow it hurts.

You gasp—your whole body stretching around him, your fingers curling into the sheets.

“Shhh…” he whispers, voice thick with control. “Feel it.”

He sinks in inch by inch, giving you all of him with agonizing patience, his hand sliding under your stomach to hold you steady while your body struggles to take him.

When he’s fully buried inside you—heavy, throbbing, deep enough to steal your breath—Smoke lets out a quiet groan.

“God… you’re tight every damn time.”

You tremble.

He doesn’t move.

Not yet.

He holds your hips still, keeping you pinned with his dick deep inside you, making you feel all of him until it’s overwhelming.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asks softly, almost mocking.

“Yes… please—”

“No,” he cuts in. “You ain’t gettin’ that. Not yet.”

He pulls almost all the way out—

—and slides back in slow, so slow you feel every ridge, every vein, every burn of the stretch.

Your legs shake uncontrollably.

“Sm—Smoke—”

“Uh-huh,” he murmurs. “Say my name while I’m deep inside you.”

He does it again.

Out…

In…

Deep…

Slow…

His hands grip your hips, holding them open, guiding your body exactly how he wants it.

“You laid in my bed in that little shirt,” he growls, burying himself deeper, “soakin’ through your panties like you needed me…”

His hips grind into you, slow and heavy.

“This what you were waitin’ for?”

You nod frantically.

His fingers wrap around the back of your neck again, gentle but firm, pulling your head up so you hear him clearly.

“Nah,” he whispers. “Use your words.”

“…yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Smoke… I needed you.”

His breath catches for a second—just a second—before he shoves back into you, deep enough you cry out.

“There she go,” he mutters, thrusting slow and punishing. “Tell the truth.”

The pace stays steady—deep, slow strokes that drag pleasure up your spine, make your toes curl, make you gasp into the sheets.

It’s intimate.

It’s dirty.

It’s mean.

And Smoke doesn’t rush once.

He kisses your shoulder, lips brushing your skin as he fills you again.

“You’re gonna cum slow this time,” he whispers.

“Right around my dick.”

His hand slips between your legs, fingers finding your clit with the same cruel slowness.

Your breath breaks—

And he presses inside you deeper, grinding his hips, voice a low growl in your ear:

“Cum for me.”

You cum hard—slow, tight, rolling through your whole body—your walls clenching around him as he groans into your neck.

Smoke keeps moving, slow and deep, fucking you through it, making sure you feel every ounce of him while you fall apart under him.

And when you finally collapse, shaking, breathless, boneless—

He stays inside you, chest pressed to your back, whispering into your ear:

“Good girl…

you’re not done ‘til I fill you.”

Your whole body still trembling, collapsing against the sheets, but Smoke doesn’t give you a chance to breathe.

His hand slides up your back, curling around the back of your neck as he pulls your hips up again, forcing you to stay open for him.

“Uh-uh,” he mutters, voice low and annoyed. “Don’t start shuttin’ down on me now. You made this mess. You finish it.”

Your hips jerk, overstimulated, and he smirks like he enjoys every second of watching you fall apart.

He drags his thumb over your clit—slow, deliberate, mean.

Your breath stutters.

“Smoke, I—”

“What?” he snaps quietly, leaning in close. “You thought them little nuts was gonna be enough? After you laid your pretty ass out in my bed like a damn invitation?”

“Don’t fall yet,” he mutters, voice low, rough from restraint.

“I’m not done inside you.”

You feel the thick head of his dick dragging through your wet slit again, but this time there’s no rush, no impatience—just that dangerous, steady control he always keeps right before he breaks.

He pushes back in slow, the kind of slow that makes your eyes roll back, the kind that makes your walls tighten around him because he’s too big and too deep and he knows it.

Smoke groans under his breath as your walls squeeze around him.

“Yeah… that’s it,” he whispers, his voice gravel and heat.

“Take all of me. Take it slow.”

He bottoms out, holding himself there, filling you completely, his pelvis pressed flush against your ass. The pressure is overwhelming—full, stretching, perfect.

You try to move, but his grip tightens on your neck.

“Mm-mm. Stay still,” he warns, his breath brushing the shell of your ear.

“You don’t move until I say.”

Your body trembles, clenching around him involuntarily, and Smoke’s growl vibrates down your spine.

“You keep squeezin’ me like that, I’m gonna fuck you harder than I planned.”

His hand slides from your neck down your back, holding your hips steady as he slowly pulls out about halfway.

And then pushes back in…

Deeper.

Slower.

The kind of slow stroke that punches breath out of your lungs.

You whimper—quiet, broken—and his lips brush your shoulder, the gentlest place on his whole body.

“Feel that?” he murmurs.

“That’s me in your guts. Deep as I can go.”

He moves again—another deep, slow thrust that makes your knees buckle.

But he doesn’t let you fall.

Smoke wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you up until your back is against his chest, his dick still buried inside you, the stretch even more intense from this angle.

You choke on a moan.

“Oh, you feel everything now, huh?” he taunts softly, kissing the side of your neck.

“This that grown-man pace. Slow enough you remember it tomorrow.”

His hand slides down your stomach, stopping right above where you’re stretched around him.

“You feel me here?”

He presses lightly, and you gasp.

“Yeah,” he smirks. “I knew you could.”

He starts thrusting again—slow, deep, steady—each one hitting the same devastating spot inside you, each one sending sparks through your whole body.

Your breath turns frantic.

Your hand reaches back to grip him, but he catches your wrist and pins it to your stomach.

“You’re gonna come,” he murmurs into your ear, voice thick and serious.

“Nice and slow. Same pace I’m fuckin’ you.”

You shake your head, overwhelmed. “Smoke… I—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.”

He thrusts deeper, his voice dropping even lower.

“I’m fillin’ you. You’re gonna take it.”

Your body tightens around him.

“There it is…” he whispers. “Let go.”

You come with a broken cry, your body clenching around him so hard he growls and presses his forehead to your shoulder, breathing heavy.

Smoke slows his thrusts even more, dragging you through the orgasm, filling you with every inch he has.

“Good girl,” he breathes, holding you close.

Then, with one final slow, punishingly deep push, he groans—low, guttural—and you feel him spill warm inside you, filling you until it drips down your thighs.

He doesn’t pull out.

He just holds you there, his weight heavy against your back, his breath hot on your neck.

“Don’t move,” he mutters, voice thick and satisfied.

Ladies and Gentlemen. Joseph Quinn.

Eddie Munson- Stranger Things S4- 2022

Johnny Storm- the fantastic 4: First steps 2025

Emperor Geta- Gladiator- 2024

Micheal- Hoard- 2023

I have rewatched Michael last night and omg! I’ve been OBSESSED with the movie and him since it hit the big screen. Been waiting for the writers to load up tons of fic since the day movie came out. I have been checking the tags every single fuckin day girl. Wake up writers do something good and give my man his fanfics bc this fine wine deserves em.