Doing Gods Work For Us - Tumblr Posts
couldn’t even edge to this, i exploded immediately!!!! clean up aisle MY PANTS!! 🙋♀️🙋♀️🙋♀️
𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 (hoard) x crybaby!reader (fem) ⟡ 1.3k
✦ ddlg :: dumbification, housewifing, cock warming, blowjob, ball worship, degradation, voyeurism, humiliation kink, cum in panties, v. oral, brief piss kink ⟡ all characters 21+
✨ anon request ⟡ “ I am so fucking horny for Michael, he’s vile and disgusting and insane, I am not normal about him. I want him to piss inside me and rub his cock in my face. I want to get him a beer while he manspreads on the couch. I want to cockwarm him while he watches the game. I want him to show me off to his coworkers, but never let them alone with me, because he doesn’t want anyone making a move on his pet. I want him to cover me in hickies, and allow me to give him one visible hickey, as a reward for being so good for him. I NEED THIS NASTY ASS MF SO BAD. ” ⟡ mailbox 💫
And he’s trained you so well. Sitting to wait for him by the door, ready for Daddy to come home. Taking every load he gives, pent up after a long shift, until his balls are fuckin’ empty and you’re begging for more. Flooding his piss in your tight little hole, whenever, wherever… Licking him clean with your devilish tongue, day after day. Such a cute lil’ pup for him to fuck and breed.
You sidle up beside him on the dingy settee, honeyed voice encircling his ear. “Got you a beer, Daddy.”
It’s Friday afternoon, and he’s watching Man City play United, only half listening to what you have to say, accepting the beer to set it aside. You thread your fingers over his strong knuckles, stroking his big, warm hand.
“Daddy?”
He drags the cigarette between his artful lips, stubbing it out in the thrifted ashtray. You gnash your thighs, picturing his wicked tongue dripping into your hole.
“Mm,” he hums, lifting his brows. It’s barely a response.
Tears in your eyes, kneeling naked between his legs, you kiss his hairy thighs and cup his dick in your hand. “Are you mad at me?” You snivel, regarding him with the reverence of a child, your breathing no louder than a whisper.
At last, he looks away from his game, not seeming to mind that he’s missed the tied goal. Michael’s whole stature softens, plush stomach swelling with a sigh. He pats his leg, bulge twitching at the sight of your tits.
“C’mere, birdie,” Michael utters, pulling you onto his lap to hitch your thighs around his waist, and unzips his stiffening crotch. When he slips it inside you — already undressed for him, always ready for his cock — Michael tucks your face over his broad shoulder, rubbing his hand against your back. Callused fingers knead the tip of your spine, their gentle warmth soothing you into subspace.
“No, baby. Daddy’s not mad. Be a good girl and warm me up, yeah?” Michael croons beside your ear, your baby hairs bristling at the sound. “Feels so good, love. So warm.”
“Missed you, Daddy,” you sigh, lonely after this morning’s shortened playtime. Your drooling cunt shivers around him, wholly contented to saddle his cock. He’s been so busy at work, that hard-earned promotion cutting into your cuddles. Nothing quite compares to Michael’s cock in your cunt.
“I love you, sweet girl.” And he means it. He would do anything just to hold you. Let the whole world burn; he would do anything for his bird.
After the Man City win, you find yourself lapping your slick from his softening cock, sucking the sperm off his sack. You trace your tongue across the velvet seam, nuzzling into his fuzzy brown hair, and flick your flesh against his balls.
Michael cups your writhing head, pressing you further in his crotch, needing to be nearer. “Filthy whore,” he commends, gently stroking your hair. “Always need to be suckin’ on your Daddy’s big cock. Please, Daddy. Please let me suck your soothie. Such a desperate slut,”
He would never speak to you this way, if he knew you didn’t like it. But you do. You love it when he mocks you. You like feeling stupid and Little. Preening into the crooked praise, you slide your slick over the crest of your heel, canting your hips back and forth as his seed trickles out of you.
Michael squeezes your tits, teasing the taut, pebbled nipples. “Suck your lollie, love. Daddy’s got more cum for you.”
You happily oblige, keen to follow his orders, and spread the skin back to suckle the tip. When you think of all the times he’s fucked you — using your tight little throat for epicurean needs — tremors flood your rigid stomach, your legs falling stiff, the sudden climax spurting rapture within your chest and cunt.
“Thas’ it, baby… Love it when you suck on my cock.” His cum, much sparser now, paints the inside of your throat, dripping sweet like honey. You’ve licked your Daddy to the sugary centre, enjoying every icky-sticky dribble of sweets.
That night, Michael ushers his drinking chummies into the kitchen, chanting along to “the boys in blue,” and dishes a beer to the each of them. You — beautiful you, overlooking over the stove to settle tea to a simmer — never startle when he presses behind you, rubbing your ass on his cock in front of all his friends. Michael hums in content, nosing your neck, licking a fat stripe up the naked skin, and smacks your ass in his reddening palm.
His buddies learn to look away.
Now that Michael’s had you, claiming you in cunt and mind, he’s unafraid to show the world he’s yours. Over a cheeky neat bourbon, risking liquor after beer, Michael snuggles you closer in his lap, sweaty cheek brushing yours.
“Give Daddy a kiss, love.” Michael says, tapping an open spot on his neck, his friends aloof to the vulgar vices.
Nervous, you cuddle his chest, sternum hiding your timid face.
“Show all of Daddy’s friends what a sweet baby you are,” he affirms, reaching down below your skirt to pet your cunnie with his thumb. “Just one little mark, pet.”
You wriggle into his touch, squealing loud enough for the neighbors to hear, and shrink into your seat when all his mates turn around.
Whining with need, you suck your tongue on your Daddy’s thick neck, unafraid when his palm climbs up to cup your breast. His friends look on, mumbling amongst themselves about what a right slut you are… But there’s no one in the room but your Daddy and his baby.
For a borrowed moment in the loo, Michael flips up your skirt to reveal the trashy “I ᡣ𐭩 DADDY” leopard-print panties hidden under your clothes. This was Michael’s stipulation; a clear attempt to embarrass you, despite how easily it turned you on. Something about being humiliated in front of total strangers; the exhilarating fear of getting caught; having every want and need taken care of, whether you like it or not… It only makes you want him more. This much, he knows.
“Look so pretty, angel. Maybe Daddy should pick out all your clothes,” Michael murmurs, teasing lightly, far too pleased by his wicked depravity. You lurch forward when he humps his cock through your folds, grinding into the shoddy fabric. “If I had it my way, you’d never wear panties again. Naughty girl.”
When he’s good and ready, Michael tugs aside your pretty pink gusset, painting your petals in viscid cum. He massages the sperm into your soft, sticky folds, spreading a mess down into the fabric, and replaces your billowing dress. “That’s a good girl… Sit in Daddy’s wet filth.”
Forever obedient, you pretend not to notice when it’s leaking down your leg and onto the couch.
Before bed, Michael rewards you for your troubles with his tongue around your clit, kissin’ and suckin’ on your cunt. Nobody else gets to do this; when you feel soft and subby, you wouldn’t dream of anyone else. All you want is your Daddy’s warm cum dripping out of your hole to remind you what a sweet girl you are.
With a purpled bruise against his neck, that pearlescent, stubbled skin has never looked so divine. He gazes up at you with darkened eyes, licking a wet stripe up your petals, and suckles a bruise onto your thigh. Kissing the open skin with sainted reverence, Michael whimpers into your flesh.
“Such a good puppy,” Michael coos, his eyes closed. When he spreads your legs open wider, fishing the cock from his jeans, you moan aloud for him, body squirming toward his hips.
“Spread your lips, birdie. Show Daddy that hole,” he begins, hot breath fanning your neck as he kisses you. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you with a cunnie full of piss.”
✦ Author’s Note: Didn’t expect this to get sentimental 😦 Been a while, since I wrote prose ?? Michael’s just my little guy. This story is a continuation of the “Angelverse.” Read the other fic here. 💦
Inspired by this post via @kxsalt + this Steve fic @decodedlvr 🧸💖 REBLOG + COMMENT, if you enjoyed :)
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✧ 𝐉𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 💫
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