Younger Michael likes your hand around his throat, not really choking but enough pressure to hinder his breath. And the look of pure bliss as he sputters for air, you hold just a little tighter as he orgasms, sending him into another world of pleasure for his release, high pitched groan as best he can.
Older Michael would almost be insulted if you were so soft with him, wrap your hand around his neck, choking turns to asphyxiation if he gets his way, strangled groans as he rides out in pleasure, he wants to be seeing spots and if you’re too gentle he’ll pull your other hand to place it on his neck and make you squeeze.
His s/o giving him a Hufflepuff scarf as a present, it’s soft and warm and one of his favorite things, he wears it any chance.
Some time later he confesses to you that he’s the antichrist, fear and worry fill him about what you’ll say, even though he truly believes you love him so much, but your reaction is
“Well shit.” You’re not looking at him, starring towards the ground instead, and he gets starts to shake, more worried until you look up at him
“This means I need to Slytherin scarf now instead you sneak.” And he’s so relieved he probably cries, hugging you like your his lifeline because that’s the only concern on the matter.
Young Michael wanting to pleasure you with his mouth but he’s timid and doesn’t know what to do so you take charge, pushing him flat against the bed and lowering yourself onto his face, one hand holding his, fingers entwined for reassurance. The other gripping his hair to make sure he gets the right spots, slick coating him while you grind against his face, he can’t help but moan at the taste of you.
Older Michael prefers you riding his face rather than just eating you out, either twining your fingers with his so you can use him to steady yourself, or tangling your hands in his hair, pull as hard as you like.
His hands gripping your thighs to make you move faster against him, eating you out orgasm after orgasm without stopping and pushing up against you wanting so be closer, to taste more, until you can’t hold yourself up any longer. He finally slows downs so you can rest up for next rounds.
Either way, yank his hair and ride his face, your personal throne.
Just imagine, caressing Michael’s face while you’re fucking him and grazing his lips with your finger and he opens his mouth so you experimentally slide a finger in and he just goes with it, eagerly sucking your fingers while you raw him
(I was thinking of pegging so it works either way)
Squishing young Michael’s cheeks together and telling him "Baby boy, baby.“ Then kissing him on the nose so his face scrunches up and think of the adorable little giggle he lets out and becomes all giddy from your soft affection
Think of older Michael in his ripped skinny jeans and black tank top, long hair in a low ponytail, this seems like a whole different layer of sinfully good looking like he should be some grease monkey mechanic on his break and crawling over you.
I think my car would be breaking down a lot more often, many tune ups needed, and some extra help every time he’s on break.
A bit of grease smudged on his cheek, stained on his hands makes it so much better when you drag him by his collar into his truck for another round and how he moans as you yank his ponytail,
Walking up and sweetly kissing Michael, and while his eyes are closed you slyly reach up to slip a red devil horned headband on him, breaking away from the kiss, you’re grinning while leaning back enough to look up at him and tap his nose “My adorable little devil”
Imagine calling young Michael your Angel as your cutesy pet name for him.
And even after he admits what he is you still do, and as much as he loves the nickname (he feels special and giddy when you call him that) he finally brings it up.
“You know, I’m literally the opposite of that.” And you just smile softly, twirling a lock of his hair
“You’re still my angel.” He smiles, almost a little sadly, you’ve always been so gentle with him, you hold his hand, pulling him back from his thoughts,
Soft morning Michael in just his soft plaid boxers fixing breakfast, hoping to surprise you before you wake up. With his soft and slightly tangled hair in a messy thrown up bun.
You quietly walk up behind him and slide your arms around his waist, still too asleep and mumbling against his back, he can’t quite make out your words, something like ‘too early’ and ‘beds cold’ but he can’t help but smile at how cute you are. Even if you’re just clinging to him for his warmth.
(I did send this on anon to thelandgoncooperative but it’s the dirtiest thing I’ve written yet and was happy with it, I might work up the guts to put it on my other blog later. It’s pure sin, just take it and go.)
When you bring up trying thigh riding to young Michael he was excited at the concept but not so sure when you get to trying it out.
And getting rather embarrassed that he’s stripped down to only silk-like boxers (which you bought him special for more fun teasing sessions) and with you having taken your shirt off so he doesn’t feel like the only one exposed really hasn’t helped, because now he’s flushed up to the neck, not sure if he’s more uncomfortable from feeling perverted wanting to stare at your breasts or just how hard he already is.
You gently coax him to sit on your clothed thigh, jeans waiting to become his mess.
Tentatively he comes over to you, feeling more naked than ever under your lustful gaze as you pull him closer and help him to be correctly seated on you, grinning at his hardness pressed against your leg, he shakily inhales at the sensation.
“Don’t worry baby boy.” You murmur, carding your fingers through his hair while he gets more comfortable.
One hand resting on his lower back, fingers rubbing lightly above his waist band of his underwear making him shiver.
You lean up, lips brushing against his ear, hot breath making him harder by the second.
“Take all the time you need.” He jolts feeling you nip his earlobe, already giving a quiet moan before he slowly starts moving, releasing breathy whimpers as the fabric of his boxers catch slightly on your jeans, your hands firmly grip his hips urging him to continue.
His blush goes all the way down to his chest, between voyeuristic-like embarrassment of being in such an open room and so turned on his skin feels like fire.
Compared to your cool hand going to the back of his neck, pushing his face into your neck as he moans, curling in against you, his grinding becomes uneven when your lips attach to his neck. Michael turns the best he can to give you more access as you start sucking, biting him and marking him as your own,
He yelps as you bite again, pinching one of his nipples while he grinds faster, the other hand slipping down the back of his boxers to roughly grab his ass and groaning as you squeeze him
“Such a good boy for me” tears prick his eyes from stimulation and your praise. He moans again, this time louder as you grip his ass tighter, so close, his boxers soaked with precum as he desperately pushes against you again and again.
Whimpering so sweetly, "P-please"
You grin, nails coming to scrape his bare back causing him to arch against your touch, ragged breaths as you continue to mark his neck, already enjoying the color blooming on his normally pale skin.
“Come for me baby.” He jolts, grinding against you one last time with a shaky moan, cum shooting into his boxers, he can feel it dripping a bigger mess against him as he rides his high, whimpering into your neck and arms wrapped around your back holding you against him.
Stuttering hips are dragging it out and pushing him further against you in his euphoria as he begins to soften.
His entire body is shaking as it ends, Michael slumps against you, out of breath and panting while you soothingly rub his bare back.
“Such a good boy”
You kiss his hair and carefully move so he falls onto the bed beside you, splayed out on the soft covers and chest heaving as you move to lay beside him, propping yourself up on one arm and wiping away the tears that escaped him.
Michael looks at you smiling, exhausted and glad he did good as you soothingly pet his hair, only moving just enough so he can snuggle against you to rest.
My first Michael Langdon writing and the dirtiest thing I’ve made to date. Please enjoy~
Toad's Cave 