Micah Smash (unfinished) (Patreon)

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1q1cZG4x7GjlnJm1sHLttV9TjXSHWRu3CKYDeBt-i3Yc/edit?usp=sharing

The idea is that Micah is a little tentative about actually doing things, but MC is a little— a lot— bolder than that. MC’s been trying to coax him into situations.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Micah is, to put it simply, a tease. Sly smiles and an infectious need for banter. You’ve gotten used to his purrs for affection, the way he would try to coax a confession out of you with a hint in his tone and an expectation in his eyes during your video calls. You’d roll your eyes on most occasions, lips lifting to a bemused smirk before firing back with something equally taunting.

It’s a game between the two of you then— pushing and pulling, eager to say the words both of you wanted to hear but unwilling to be the first to really do so. You thought it sweet, how tentative you were with each other when you first met. But now that he’s moved in with you, the hesitancy and barely grazes have been nothing short of frustrating. He’s a tease but now in the worst way.

You think it’s because of the sudden palpable distance— the knowledge that when the two of you teeter somewhere intimate during your vitriol flirting, you’re now only an arms reach of each other. Unable to hide behind the chat system, vulnerable and seen and impossibly close.

It’s a liability that you’re okay with. After all, you wanted him near within the first week of meeting him. Because now that you’re face-to-face, Micah being flustered was 10x more gratifying than you ever thought it could be.

But… Micah was clearly too embarrassed with the notion. A fact you learned quickly when things got heated during a Smash Bros. battle and you somehow ended up straddling him— chest heaving and faces flushed during a stupid struggle to knock each other’s controller off.

At that point in time, both of you’ve gotten comfortable with cuddling and sneaking kisses here and there— Micah grew exceptionally talented working that split tongue of his—; However, neither of you were prepared for everything to escalate so quickly and so…  rousing.

And thus with his face burning bright red, Micah ran away then— unceremoniously sliding you off onto the plush couch to make a beeline for the bathroom. You hardly had a clear mind when you followed after him, your steps shaking alongside your heart. “Micah?” You asked with a short knock on the door.

You heard a noise, something of a cross between a whimper and a wince. “S-Sorry, angel. Umm, the room's gonna be o-occupied for a bit.” Then he hissed and a quiet moan followed soon after. The sound shot straight through your core— heating up your system and twisting your gut.

You don’t think you were supposed to hear it, but it’s been on repeat ever since.

During late nights when Micah would leave space on the bed. During makeout sessions that started to get a little more intimate, heavy, hot— especially the immediate moment after when he’d leave you, bothered and wanting,  to take care of a problem you would happily assist him with if only he’d allow you to.

You think he’s unfair, but it’s not like you’ve been playing nice either.

“Micah, do you wanna play Smash?”

He splutters, tea spraying, and you take a second to laugh as the bubble tea he had just been consuming dribbles down his chin. You pass him a napkin and he swipes it quickly. The two of you are seated in the living room— Micah on one end of the couch and you on the other— simply relaxing after an outing.

As he cleans up, his eyes dart to the TV on the wall, the controllers on the table— practically anywhere but you. “Umm, w-why Smash, angel?”

“Just thinking. We didn’t have a winner last time we played, right?” Your expression is plain, innocent. You rotate the straw between your fingers, churning up the ice and the boba left in your drink as Micah swallows.

“No… we didn’t.” He answers after a while. “Do you… really want to play that game?”

You smile, sweet. “Yup.”

His shoulders rise to his reddened ears  as his fingers rub the condensation gathering on the side of his cup. Micah still won’t look at you. A stark contrast to when he was animatedly ranting about the Breath of the Wild play through he did today. You know that the incident from two weeks ago is still kicking in his head, thoroughly making a mess of him as a very noticeable blush on his face creeps down his neck. You inwardly smirk.

“We can make it a real competition. Like with prizes and stuff. Just like the actual tournaments.”

That seems to catch his attention as Micah finally slides his golden hues on you. They drop to your lips first before slowly climbing up to meet your eyes. You pretend not to notice but you’re already deviously rounding out your words, pouting your lips.

“Interested in playing?”

Micah’s thumbs come up to rest on the plastic cover of his drink. “Maybe… What are the rules?”

“Three stocks, obviously. One match. No items. It’s a fight to the death.”

“Who are you maining?”

“Oh it’ll be randomized.” Micah’s brow quirks up, a question. “Same thing for you too. You play too much so it’ll even out the odds of who wins.”

He squeezes the boba cup in his hands. The green tea inside sloshes slightly. He’s nervous.

“What… What about the prize?”

There it is.

Leaning forward, you pause and feign mulling over the reward. Micah’s leg begins bouncing, finger tapping. He flinches a little when you speak again. “You can decide.”

“Me?” Micah squeaks.

“Yeah. It doesn’t have to be now. It can be after the game too.”

“Sure, angel.” His smile twitches at the corners. If there’s anything you adore about being in the same room as Micah it’s that you’re privy to his emotions, able to see every single reaction of his.

You return the smile then swing off the couch to set up the match. Starting up the Switch is easy enough and before long the two of you are scrolling through the stages with the main theme catchily playing in the background. Your partner has considerably relaxed at this point, slowly falling into the rhythm of competitive gaming and he leisurely rolls his thumb over the joystick, flicking it side to side as he waits for you to make a decision.

Fuck him. How you wish he could do that to you.

“The Pokemon Stadium?” Micah asks aloud when you don’t move the cursor.

You snap out of your thoughts and smoothly respond. “Not a lot of movement, perfect for a fight. Are you fine with this?”

His full lips stretch into a brilliant and familiar grin. “It doesn’t matter. You can choose any stage and I’ll absolutely cream you in all of them.” Micah’s taunting, you know that well enough. But his word choice only serves to fuel the indecent thoughts in your head, and it takes everything in you to shove a whimper of a noise down your throat.

“Sure, Cah-Cah. Let’s see if you can say that again afterwards.”

You punch the button and the screen slides into the character selection one. Both of you plop your marker on the question mark at the bottom. A ‘READY TO FIGHT’ blazes on the entire screen, and you roll your shoulders. “Ready?” You ask as the stage for your battle comes to view.

“The better question is, are you ready, angel— Wha, Hey!”  While Micah took the time to insert his last minute smack talk, the countdown for the match had already ended and you lay down your first attack. The randomization bestowed upon you Lucario— a character you’ve had experience dealing with— and thus you waste no time delivering an uppercut on Micah’s Bayonetta. The surprise raises his damage to a solid 8% before Micah gathers his bearings to dodge.

“Angel?!” At his scandalized tone, you cackle.

“Pay attention, Micah~.”

He scoffs then before buckling down to focus. You do the same, competitive spirit aflamed as you struggle to avoid his combos. Bayonetta is an unfortunate RNG for you. Micah had played with her often— he was so excited when he learned that this badass of a woman was in the game— and had mained her for the better half of a year. He’s experienced, more than you, and it’s evident as he quickly gains the upper hand, smoothly dishing combo after combo until your Lucario is knocked off screen.

“Yes! Yes! In your face!” He cheers, temporarily hopping onto his feet for a short victory dance.

You groan, frustrated. The moment your character is back on the screen, you drop down to the platform Micah was on and smash him to the side. He gasps as the screen flashes 2-2, two lives left for the both of you.

You tilt your chin with a smirk. “Didn’t I tell you to pay attention?”

Micah hops back on the couch, his tongue sticking out in determination. You sit forward in response and the next couple of seconds is just filled with the smashing of buttons and the click of the joysticks. Competition had already swept Micah away, edging him closer and closer to a desire for victory. And while you share his hope to win, you had other plans that curb the need for first place.

And so, when you’re reduced to one life left— Micah had laughed cockily beside you, unaware that you’ve gotten close enough so that your shoulders were brushing against his— you didn’t wilt in the impending defeat. You merely roll your eyes and wait. 43%. 58% 71%. Your damage taken scales higher and higher. The game would be over soon. But not without a little interference.

“A-angel, what the fuck?!”

Micah’s voice pitches high when you abruptly sit on his lap, effectively blocking his view of the game. You cheekily laugh, your own voice light with playful mischief as you maneuver your body when he tries to look around you. Of course it didn’t work, and you hear an annoyed grunt behind you.

“Okay, this is totally not fair and—!”

His words cut off there as you not so subtly grind your ass down on his cock. Micah’s breath stutters, a reaction that signals how good that must’ve felt and you slowly roll your hips, masking the lewd action by leaning onto your knees every now and then, “Sorry Micah, what? I’m just trying to win the game.”

“You—,” He exhales, warm breath fanning across your neck. “This is cheating, how am I supposed to see?!”  Micah doesn’t address what you’re doing, and you know it’s not because he’s unaware— but rather that he’s too embarrassed to acknowledge it. An idea that you’re positive is true given the way he turned deadly still beneath, trying not to rub himself against you.

You laugh at his predicament and at how you’re able to drop kick his Bayonetta off the stage. The screen flashes, 2-1. It’s almost over.

“Figure it out soon because I’m about to win~” You gloat.

Micah huffs, competitive spirit igniting. “This is such second place behavior. But fine, cheat all you want, angel, I’m still gonna win.” And Micah pitches forward. His hands come around your waist, pinning your arms to your sides, as his chin goes to rest on your shoulder. Bent at an angle, you crane your neck to see the TV screen. It’s hard to move, really hard to move.

You didn’t think Micah’s capable of doing something like this— you surmise that his desire to win can override his own bashfulness—, but you don’t plan on complaining. Not when his hardening cock is lined up perfectly against your sex. Your focus on the game significantly drops then and you lose a life to a series of combos that you definitely could have blocked but that’s not important anymore. The man below you is.

So with a halfhearted attack from your Lucario, you firmly press your hips on Micah’s and wiggle. His breathing turns heavy. His hips buck to meet yours halfway. It had to be subconscious, just instinctive, because not even a second later, Micah’s whispering a “Sorry” to your ear and it definitely wasn’t because he launched you off screen.

Your fingers flick so that your Lucario recovers and the pokemon floats gently back on the arena. “Sorry for what Micah?” You’re grinding down on him harder. Fuck the subtleties. Fuck the game. You’re hardly paying attention to what’s happening, more keen on the noises your partner is trying to stifle behind you when he presses his lips against your shoulder. “Say that again, I can’t hear you.”

He groans, something he’s only ever done behind closed doors, and the rumble of his throat sends shivers down your spine. You arch into him and his hand flies to your abdomen, holding you in place. It’s stupidly hot how easily he can do that as you have no choice but to still under his palm.

“Angel, please.”

The two words  are uttered deep, doing wonders for that tightness in your stomach that’s long since been winding up, and you miss putting up your shield. Lucario sails away once more, damage too high for it to not be a finishing blow. You don’t wait for the game to announce that it’s over when you lean back to kiss him.

Micah’s eager to reciprocate as his other hand comes up to grasp your chin, tilting you back so that he can have an easier access. At the same time, he slides down the couch and spreads his legs so yours does too. Then his hand on your stomach pushes and your ass is once again grinding down on his cock.

To say that you’re surprised by his boldness is an understatement. However, you’re thoroughly thrilled that he’s taking the initiative.

“Not so shy today, are you, Yujin?” You sneak in when he bares your neck to him and trails open mouthed kisses down the column. “Tell me,” You sigh when he raises his hips, humping fast, “Why aren’t you running away?”

“You’re not making it easy for me to.” Micah’s voice is tinged with a whine. “I’m so scared of-,” He nips at your neck, sucking for a moment, “-going too fast. I didn’t know if you-,” He licks the spot, cool piercing flattening against you, “-want me like that. But during the match you were grinding on me good and I-,” A quiet moan bubbles past his lips at a particularly hard grind on his cock. He’s panting, leaving open mouthed kisses and soon to be hickeys on your skin.

You can’t believe that was all it took for him to break.

“God, you’re so stupid.” You giggle.