uhmmm yeah ok

Your hand is placed on your hip, your foot tapping on the floor impatiently. This had been the seventh—no, eighth—time his blue hair dye stained the bathroom walls and the umpteenth time that a few blue strands ended up swirling in your poor shampoo. You had never met someone so disorganized, so messy, and so unbearable to live with!

You swallowed thickly, clicking your tongue against your cheek.

Things had to change. Confrontation is a must when living with a person like Michael Kaiser.

A grunt inside his bedroom followed, a quiet admission to him ignoring you. And you swear a vein popped in your forehead.

"Do you hear me? I'm not your fucking mother! Is it so hard to clean up after yourself? And don't touch my fucking shampoo! Do you know how expensive this is and what lengths I have to go through to get this exact one? It's supposed to smell like me, not you. Do you hear me?!"

Your throat was starting to get raspy from how much you were yelling, but this asshole—he only seemed to like talking when it was bullshit that came out.

Then, a soft groan murmured from behind his bedroom door.

"Scheiße..."

"Are you swearing at me?!" you yelled, scoffing. "That's it; I'm coming in."

Your hand wrapped around the handle when the sudden sound of shuffling jolted the air. But a bit of privacy invasion was necessary to end this nightmare of a roommate.

And so, you pushed.

A flush crept up your neck when you caught the sight of Michael sitting on his desk chair, his chest rising and falling and flushed, and his...

His dick.

It was out of his grey sweats, his hand wrapped around the base.

You immediately spun on your heels, facing the hallway. "What the fuck, Michael?!"

"I—" He heaved; his shirt was God knows where, discarded somewhere so that only his rose tattoo was illuminated under his lamp. "I told you not to come in."

Your hands dragged down your cheeks, your eyes shutting in regret. "Since when?!"

"Was my silence not an answer?!"

You bit down your pride and cast a glance back to him, his hair and body damp from showering.

"Why are you just looking?" He panted, the rosy flush of his tip still very visible. "Do you wanna watch?"

He could not be serious right now, his broad shoulders rising in a huff of baffled laughter. Your eyes darted to every corner of his seriously disorganised room—the dresser with clothes everywhere, the weird loose coke cans, and totally, totally not his stiffened dick before—

"No!" You scurried to the door handle, turning to the side. "I hate you!"

"What the fuck did I do?"

You slammed the door shut, drowning away every memory of Michael Kaiser before you lost your mind.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ TOP COMMENTS

fuckmylifeg2fw: girl SET BOUNDARIES. men like this won't learn if you just take it. you have to tell him he's being a bitch. yell at him a little. that's how they listen.

⤷ ilovebeefymen54: okay thank you... i do yell at him, but he just says sorry with a sad face and like, idk... does the laundry?

⤷ fuckmylifeg2fw: and that works for you?

⤷ ilovebeefymen54: kind of...

notshidouryusei69: i had a roommate exactly like this so i had to have sex every night SO loud that he eventually got tired of me and switched dorms. never let them know your next move.

⤷ ilovebeefymen54: ???

⤷ iamnotsaeitoshi8: troll account. everyone block.

⤷ notshidouryusei69: what the fuck man i'm trying to give real advice over here

⊹ ࣪ ˖ EDIT 1: okay, so i don't mean to alarm anyone, but i tried confronting my roommate about his messy lifestyle, and unfortunately in doing so, i caught him jerking off. i mean, it's normal... so that's not what i'm mad about. it was pretty awkward that it even happened, but oh well, he always walks around half naked anyway. my problem actually is that ever since i caught him, he's been jerking off pretty regularly. and loudly. and i know that HE KNOWS that the walls in this place are fucking thin. help.

You're trying to clean off your makeup when the shrill of a moan in the room next to you starts.

"Fuck! Right there—"

It's definitely a woman's moaning, but the quality wasn't authentic—more like it was being played from someone's laptop at 2 AM. Someone, as in your annoying roommate, Michael Kaiser.

You were seriously wondering how someone like him was allowed into the public, especially someone so sought after by women and men and the people who liked to party. You pressed the oil-filled pad into your lashes harder, trying to ignore this weird situation until—

"Mm! Shit!..."

A much more authentic, guttural groan muffled against the wall, followed by the panting and low moaning of the video playing. He was so fucking shameless, like catching him masturbating once was an invitation to do it again and again.

You finished removing the excess glue from your lashes before stumbling out of your bedroom into the kitchen—hoping a glass of water will drown out your thoughts and dignity.

Maybe splashing water on him would be a better option.

You're clearing your throat as you down the glass, your short shorts and tube top still on from the party you had just come back from. Groaning into your hands about the moaning in the bedroom next to you, the door clicked open along with the shuffling of slippers against the floorboards.

"G'morning," Michael hummed, opening the fridge to fetch a glass of water. "Where have you been?"

You're perched over the counter, your eyes raking down from his blonde hair loosely tousled into a bun to the glasses framing his eyes and the sweats hanging low on his waist.

You were used to seeing his half-naked body. Very used to it. But you were not used to boners poking out of sweats.

And definitely not the wet patch accompanying it.

"Party," you coughed into your fist, brushing your hair behind your ears. "Why didn't you come?"

"Had an assignment I need to finish."

"Right."

There was an odd silence that cut through the kitchen as he poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher, his brows furrowing in concentration. "Do you need something?"

You squeezed your eyes shut so hard you could see sounds. "Actually, yeah. If you could stop playing the porn you watch on speaker, it'd be great."

He snickered into his hand before adjusting his glasses. "Oh, you could hear that? I had no clue."

You pursed your lips, your cheek squishing over your palm. "You totally had a fucking clue."

"I seriously didn't, but I'll keep it in mind for next time."

"Alright, yeah. Thank you."

You stared at his rosy lips wrapping around the cup as he spoke. "Need anything else?"

Your gaze flickered to the fridge.

"Stop jerking off so loudly."

"Mm, yeah. Sorry."

As he downed the glass, the corner of his lip perked up a fraction—a fraction so minuscule that on a normal day, you wouldn't have noticed it at all.

Michael had this knack at gawking at you, whether you were in a pair of sleep shorts or the tiniest tube top known to mankind. And apparently, he thought this was the time and place to check you out.

"You look nice," he murmured before turning away. "Sleep well."

You clutched your glass so hard it could fucking break.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ TOP COMMENTS

thefastestprincessinbllk1: what a pervert. how did that even happen?

⤷ ilovebeefymen54: i was yelling at him about it but he wasn't answering so i just opened the door and ... you know. fun stuff.

⤷ thefastestprincessinbllk1: so he just kept jerking off even when you were yelling at him? with the door unlocked? i'm actually at a loss for words. get a new roommate.

⤷ ilovebeefymen54: that's actually a pretty good question... and maybe i will look into that.

notshidouryusei69: is he hot?

⤷ ilovebeefymen54: does it matter?

⤷ notshidouryusei69: if hes not hot then switch roommates. if he is, just fuck him.

⤷ thedestroyer11037: notice how this has more downvotes than upvotes? log off.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ EDIT 2: just as i thought things were getting better, my roommate started his bullshit again. like seriously, it's getting old. he refused to do the laundry because he has some sort of problem with seeing my underwear? and then i started crying and it just got worse from there. he kinda said i could fuck him as an apology. like, literally use him as a human dildo so i dont report him to RA. like, he literally said 'you can use or fuck me however you like'. WTF

"Come again?"

Michael scratched the back of his neck, ignoring the flush creeping up. "I don't want to do the laundry."

Your foot tapped incessantly along the floorboards, your jaw slack in absolute bafflement. "Well, I already did the dishes for the past few days."

"Yeah. You did."

You bit your lip sharply. "So why don't you want to do the laundry then, hm? What is it now?"

You crossed your arms in annoyance, softly shaking your head at Michael, who was currently in a robe, fixing his hair.

"You're gonna be mad if I tell you."

"I'm already fucking mad, Michael."

"Okay," he sighed, looking off to the side. "I just don't like your panties."

Your jaw slacked open so wide it could pop. "What?"

Michael adjusted his glasses, fixing the edge of his robe so it was snug under his defined arms. "It's not personal."

"What the fuck is wrong with my panties?"

"I don't like the colours," he started, counting on his lithe fingers. "I don't like the design. You could do better, honestly."

You swear a vein popped in your forehead, scoffing to the side as an attempt to regain any semblance of your sanity as you begin to pace the hallway in thought.

"Also, why are you always so wet? Every time I do laundry, your panties are always soiled. Kinda scary, you know."

He paused.

"I just didn't know you were like that."

"I—" You bit down on the words as you shot a finger at him. "I-I just have so many issues with you."

Panic flashed on Michael's face as the first set of tears slipped down your cheeks, your chest heaving. "Woah, did I upset you? Wait, I'm sorry—"

He shuffled close, his hands hovering inches away from your head as he sputtered. "No, don't cry. Why are you crying?"

"I-I am going to report you to our RA," you sniffled, wiping your eyes. "I hate you. Room by yourself, asshole."

Michael's jaw slacked as he looked around, watching you cry with your hands in your face. He softly stroked your head once. "Hey, no, I'm sorry."

You didn't come up from your hands for a while, stilling as Michael awkwardly patted your head for the umpteenth time.

"...Don't report me."

"That's what you're worried about?!" You perked up, nose scrunching in disbelief. "You're— You're only thinking about yourself!"

His rosy lips pursed in guilt, leaning closer. "No, no. I just don't want you to report me. What do you want, huh? I'll do laundry and the dishes or cook you food for the next month."

"I don't want any of that," you sniffled, wiping your eyes again. "Dick."

Michael leaned closer, so close that his breath was brushing your cheek, his brows furrowing in complete confusion. "Dick? You want my dick?"

Your eyes blew open.

"...Okay, if you want my dick, you got it. You can use me all you want; fuck me all you'd like. Just don't report me to the RA, hm?"

You swore the tears started coming harder the more he spoke.

"I don't want your dick, you asshole!"

He recoiled. "Oh, okay. Well, you said—"

"I said I don't wanna fuck you!"

⊹ ࣪ ˖ TOP COMMENTS

iamnotsaeitoshi8: well, did you? cause if you did, i'm gonna block you.

⤷ ilovebeefymen54: OF COURSE NOT? im not that easy

⤷ iamnotsaeitoshi8: i'm starting to seriously wonder where people get their roommates from. to the RA he goes.

chrollomakesuswet4: girl you're stressing me out this is seriously messy 😭😭

⤷ katsukibakugosleftasscheek: NO SERIOUSLY WHAT THE FUCK LMAOO

⤷ ilovebeabadoob3e: like torturing poor OP with his way of living and then dissing her panties and then saying he'll let her hit 😭 WHAT IS GOING AWNNN

⊹ ࣪ ˖ EDIT 3: hi guys i just wanted to thank everyone for how much attention this thread has been getting lol! anyways, i actually did end up fucking my roommate but i swearrr it was a spur of the moment kinda thing. he doesn't actually use my shampoo anymore, and he cleans up after himself, and now he actually does laundry! soooo everything was all sorted out. i'll keep you guys updated if anything happens!

The haze in your head had to be some kind of byproduct from staying in Michael Kaiser's mancave.

Nonetheless, your hips rolled into his, your head rolling back as you moaned sweetly. "Micha..."

It was a nickname you only really saved when he wasn't grating on your nerves.

His brows furrowed, jaw slackening as he watched you shamelessly ride him, your fingers clawing into the soft flesh of his pecs. "Oh, scheiße..."

His palms dug into the cushions as you grinded against a particularly sweet spot, the ridge of his cock brushing against the sensitive wall of nerves. "Micha!"

You arched into him, teeth catching your bottom lip as your nails dug into his pecs, watching a flush creep his heaving chest all the way to his neck. "Fuck... Micha, your dick is so good. Fuck."

You squeezed his cock tight as you grinded, your tits bouncing softly along with the momentum—a view for your stupid, annoying roommate. And a view only for him.

Michael brought a shaky hand to grip your hips tightly, cradling your hips to meet his at a steadier, prettier pace.

"Fuck you," you swat his hands away, your pace quickening. "You don't get to just do that. Mm— You deserve this shit."

He threw his head back in a fit of pleasure, your wet heat squeezing him on all ends, plunging in and out of you. "Mm— I said sorry, schatz. Won't you forgive me?"

He panted, his trembling fingers reaching to massage your bouncing tits instead, squeezing the soft fat. "So soft. You've always been this soft?— Fuck!"

You whined as he took your pebbled nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked fervently, tongue lashing and swirling around the hardened bud. His other hand reached to pinch and rub your untouched nipple.

"Micha!" You gasped, your hips stuttering against his as he sucked your nipple so hard you could see stars. "A-Ah— That's t'much!"

You pried him off your chest, saliva connecting his mouth to your breast before tugging on his hair. "Just stay still. Fuck— I can't concentrate when you do that."

"Can't concentrate, yeah?" He flashed a raw, open smile—hair dishevelled by you pulling his blonde locks. "Is that really my problem or yours?"

You were about to retort when his hips snapped up, drilling into you as it brushed your cervix. A whimper tumbled from your lips as his hands gripped your hips so tight it could bruise—his hips snapping up into you.

His lips brushed the shell of your ear. "Too slow, but keep going, yeah? What is it you're mad at me about? Haah— My fucking hair dye?"

"Your hair dye—" You whined, your chin hooking over his shoulder as you tried to steady yourself. "Y-Your stupid coke cans everywhere."

From the way his hands were gripped onto you, his dick was able to angle itself in a way where the tip kissed your g-spot—shooting blanks into your head and lower stomach.

"A-And because—" You tried to catch your breath as his fingers dug into the soft fat of your ass, pounding into you at a relentless, sticky pace. "Because you always moan like a slut when you jerk off!"

"I'm the slut, really? I'm a slut to you, schatz?" He tilted his chin up, cooing into your ear. "When you're about to cum like this?"

Just as you adjusted to his pace, your hips grinding onto his, you spoke. "I'm not about to cum, you—"

His thumb and forefinger shakily reached to pinch your poking clit, making you jolt against him.

"Micha!"

His thumb rubbed fast, unrelenting circles on your clit—and you swear your vision blurs, your hips stuttering against him.

His lips find the sweet spot behind your ear, sucking fervently on the sensitive skin. "Cum. Take it out on me."

He dug his fingers into your ass cheeks once more, lifting you off the base of his cock before sheathing it back in you, bullying your insides. You whimpered as a milky white ring formed around the base of his cock, gushing all over him.

"Fuck you, Kaiser." You choked out, your hips finding the momentum to grind on him again, riding out your orgasm. "Fuck you."

"You're already fucking me."

"No, but— Fuck you! You talk t'much."

He smiled against your neck, pulling away with an oceanic gaze full of mirth. "Come shut up the source, then. I got a real pretty face you can sit on."

His thumb rubbed soothing circles on your hips like he wasn't responsible for taking your breath away, but you pressed your fingers onto his chest anyway, murmuring a promise.

"Just shut the fuck up and get on your back."

"Oh, don't get so cocky from one apology."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ TOP COMMENTS

katsukibakugosleftasscheek: someone play pretty little birds by SZA

⤷ ilovebeefymen54: I SAID THIS WAS A SPUR OF THE MOMENT C'MON IT'S NOT MY PROUDEST MOMENT

⤷ chrollomakesuswet4: our mother hen 😭 was the dick at least good

⤷ ilovebeefymen54: 👀👀

iamnotsaeitoshi8: i was really rooting for you, OP. you have disappointed me. never ask for advice on this site again.

⤷ ilovebeefymen54: i'm sorry... 😟

⤷ notshidouryusei69: don't listen to him. atta girl

cucumbergardener46: This thread reminds me of my olden days when I was in my twenties with many, and I mean many, boyfriends! Don't listen to these boring people, OP. If you can find three more guys like this, I think you've just hit the jackpot.

⤷ ilovebeefymen54: aw thank you. i will find three more for sure!

Boyfriend! Lamine who: insisted on going to the gym together. He loves to take mirror pictures and often flexes in front of you—not to show off, but for you to admire and enjoy the daily dose of biceps. He claimed it is healthy. Sometimes when he hits the gym alone, he would send you pictures of himself in the changing room—flexing his back muscles, glistened in a thin layer of sweat (picture taken by his other gym bro) with an absolutely dirty message followed right after.

Boyfriend! Lamine who: jumps on you when a goal is scored. He would sprint half across the field just to jump on you to celebrate it. It must be you first, then the rest of the teammates. Interviewers claimed he got a soft spot for you, often showing recaps of Lamine wrapping his arms around you, nuzzling his face in your back excitedly from behind.

Boyfriend! Lamine who: enjoys study dates! Lamine often finds himself laying on your soft bed with a book in hand, reviewing lessons during the days you two are not burying your bodies in football. Even though you said “lock in, pulpo. Exams in a few weeks”, Lamine still tries to distract you by running a hand under your hoodie…as a joke.

Boyfriend! Lamine who: stops bringing his personal water bottle and starts drinking from yours. He has that wide smirk, knowing when he drinks, you two were like…having indirect kisses. It became a habit rather than just an act to mess with you.

Boyfriend! Lamine who: thinks about quickies a lot but can’t do anything since the locker room is anything but private enough. He gets turned on when you glare at him for stealing your towel…drenched in sweats and flustered cheeks. Same person who promised a shower sex after as an apology.

Boyfriend! Lamine who: sneaks into your hotel room when you two are away from home for football matches. For one moment, he got you rolling your eyes because he dramatically said “the one in my room is freezing my balls, Cariño. We need to share the bed. Now.”.

Boyfriend! Lamine who: brings Keyne along when you two hang out together. He knew you adored the kid. His heart swells when you pick Keyne up in that strong arms of yours and babytalks to the kid. Same person who dazed with that goofy grin when you two were in a restaurant and you asked the waitress nicely for some pudding for Keyne before ordering yourself something.

Boyfriend! Lamine who: loves creampie and cockwarming. Safety is prioritised, but if you allow him to, he would stuff you up without a second thought and watch the cum drip out of your aching hole while his calloused palms hold your legs up in the air for a better view. Your back got pressed deeper into the mattress as you caught your breath, tears threatening in the corner of your eyes—literally seeing stars.

Or during the days when you two feel like cuddling and some intimacy at the same time, he would slip his hardened cock inside of you and spoon you from behind—perfectly content. His warm palm slides up and down your abs, giving your chest a firm squeeze and just staying there, yapping your eyes off about something in Spanish.

Boyfriend! Lamine who: relies on you when interviewers or reporters ask him something in English. You basically become his translator—helping him answer then and there. He knows he can switch back to Spanish and answer them just fine—but he rather learns more from you so he can, one day, speak it fluently. Like you do. Then he showers you with kisses when you two are back in the hotel suite as a form of gratitude.

Boyfriend! Lamine who is absolutely head over heels for you. Only you.