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She and Micheal had bonded. They'd forking waxed poetic about what it was like to be inherently bad while attempting to practice good and she'd almost fallen for him. Almost, because it was a subtle change. From fearsome angel with her future in his hands to needy demon with his future in her hands. Did that make him more like the guys she'd forked on Earth? Someone that saw her as worthy because he didn't know her well enough to run the fork away?No.Not really... because Michael knew everything about her. Knew her faults. Knew her quirks. Her kinks. Oh, god. He knew her actual kinks! The ones she'd never even entertained with another being and were only evidenced by her tawdry internet history. Which she hadn't had a chance to delete before she died. Eleanor wondered if anyone cared to look or if the people she'd left behind simply tossed her electronics away with the rest of her belongings and a beleaguered "Good Riddance."In any case, she was in his office, again. Watching him lose his motherforking shirt over the last meeting with his boss. "Michael," she'd grumbled as he continued pacing and half-cursing at nothing.He threw his hands up. Raised a fist to some omnipotent being and shook it. Then, looking apologetically at his own hand, Micheal murmured something about having to learn to be polite to the powers that be. Especially since said powers were going to be their only ticket out of The Bad Place. Eleanor sighed as she watched. Remembering the Micheal that had experienced a mid-life crisis in the span of a day and had actually been kind of hot with his hair gelled into place and a dolled-up Janet by his side. Was she only convincing herself Micheal was hot to overwrite her confusion about Chidi? NO! ...Yes.Fork.She couldn't even lie to herself, anymore. The morality training was obviously working, but it seemed to only make her feel bad. She definitely was trying to get over Chidi. That's exactly why she'd let a stupid idea pop into her head and rushed directly to Micheal's office. ...but Micheal was hot, wasn't he? No, not the stuffy angel he pretended to be. That guy was a big nerd. Probably an even nerdier nerd than the SUPER nerdy nerd love of her afterlife.This Micheal was cool, though. They had so much in common! Morbid sense of humor. Glee over seeing others in pain. Anger at existing but a determination to keep doing it, anyway. This Micheal. Demon Micheal, she could bang."Micheal!" she said, again. This time more clearly. His pacing was aggravating to say the least and there was no solution to be found in the endless circling of his desk-chair. He didn't hear her, though. Still rambling and hypothesizing himself dizzy.She finally picked up a paperweight from his desk and tossed it at him. He immediately stopped and caught it. Staring at her with wide eyes as he gently placed it back on the desk. "Good catch," she said cheerfully as she held two thumbs way, way up in celebration. "There's nothing you can do to fix this right now, and I have a little favor to ask."Micheal tilted his head slightly to the side, blinking at her as he considered her words. He cautiously conceded. "No, there's likely nothing I can do to fix this at the moment." His eyes then squinted. "...and if your favor has anything to do with that Stone Cold Steve Austin and Tahani clone Janet mentioned earlier, the answer is still no.""Michael! We already know what happens when Janet makes a new person," Eleanor said as she shook her head at him, smiling as if he were the silliest being in all existence. "I was wondering if my new, fake, distraction-boyfriend could be... you."Micheal squinted more, his mouth opening as if to respond and then shutting because what the fork would a response to that even be? Eleanor sighed as if ready to give up but then noticed the slow change in his expression. From perplexed to increasingly mischievous. Ah, there was that cool, demon Micheal look. "And why, exactly, do you need distraction-boyfriend? In this reboot, you haven't fallen in love. Haven't been dumped. Haven't had any romantic interaction with another human and definitely not one of the demons.""Nosy nancy," she scolds jokingly as she stands. She's not sure if this will work on a demon, but it's what she usually does. Carefully rounding his desk with a slow sway in her hips and her eyes focused directly on his own. He stares back, not even blinking as she approaches him and presses her index finger to the middle of his bowtie, the light pressure she applies encouraging him to reclaim his seat. Micheal does fall back into his chair at the mild prod. Mostly out of curiosity. Standing over Michael with that single finger still extended, though not touching, Eleanor flippantly replies. "Doesn't matter. Do you wanna bone, or not?" Eleanor laid down on a couch in the back of what seemed like a crowded nightclub. The people milling about and chit-chatting had to be a construct of Micheal's seemingly limitless magic.Instead of verbally agreeing, earlier, he'd stared over at her with that mischievous little smile he was such a fan of and snapped his fingers. She'd glanced around in shock and suddenly the old fantasy came to mind. She loved videos of people jerking off in public. Women dancing raunchily up against men to inspire erections. Tawdry, secret recordings of back alley blowjobs.As he settled in and got comfortable, she smiled over at the demon. "You know, if I'd realized you could do something like this without me even asking, I would have fucked you like 400 reboots ago.""Are you entirely sure you didn't?" Micheal asks as he changes his clothes to fit the club a little better. A simple button-up and designer slacks with a thin, leather belt. He leaves Eleanor in the jeans and flannel she has on.
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Micheal sits beside her on the couch. Not touching her. Not moving as if he plans to indulge her, at all... but the atmosphere is making Eleanor antsy. People milling about. A few backwards glances at the seated pair. The dance floor writhing with bodies in the distance. Micheal passes her a drink and she downs it, the burn of alcohol making the situation feel more real. Her empty glass refills automatically and she smiles at it instead of him. "Thanks!"
"No problem, Eleanor.""So... this isn't our first time?""For you, yes," he says as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, followed by the enticing scrape of his teeth. Her eyes zero in on his mouth and he smiles, broadly. Malevolently. "Usually, I don't tell you this has happened before. I let you try to seduce me. Your hand sliding between my legs and my face nervous and scared about what a human woman can do to this body I've never explored. You tell me how much you love my cock and eventually you're on your knees in front of me. According to Janet, this..." He grabs his cock through his pants and Eleanor can't help but drink in the sight of his erection straining against pressed slacks. "is your ideal cock. The one you never had but always pictured in your fantasies during life.""So, you give yourself my ideal cock every time we do this?" Eleanor says, her mouth watering despite somehow becoming slowly opposed to the idea that Micheal knows so much about her when she knows nothing about him. She liked her secrets when she was alive. Especially when it came to men she'd taken to bed."Oh, no," Micheal says with a laugh."You see, as a... let's just call it a clerical worker, I didn't need one. For accuracy while making the neighborhood, I was advised to make sure one was available to me. Seeing as you're the only human in this neighborhood that even has an ideal, we went with what you'd appreciate most... mostly with the understanding that none of you would ever see it, anyway," Micheal says. He can tell Eleanor is leaning closer. Her eyes still fixated between his thighs as he simply holds himself casually. "But... Tahani?""Let Tahani keep her secrets. Tonight is about you, not her," He knows Eleanor's nosiness would usually make her latch onto the idea that Tahani even has secrets... but his insistence that everything around them is for Eleanor, is enough of a distraction."About me," she whispers absently as she presses up against Micheal's side."I usually let you get right in the middle of things before I reveal to you my true form... or at least, the truest corporeal form I possess," Micheal continues. "...but this time, I'm not in the mood for games. A few reboots have passed since the last time we tried this. I've developed a fondness for how... depraved you can be. It's rather refreshing."Eleanor swallows, her eyes finally climbing up to meet his. He looks confident. Relaxed. Maybe even devious? There's something dominating about the way he looks at her. His arm draped over the back of the couch and knees spread wide. His gaze is unflinching and it makes her feel rather small, beside him. He's in charge... and she's never let anyone take charge in her life.So, how is it still so arousing?"True... form?" she asks warily as Micheal stares her down. Her eyes flicker to his shoulder. Head bowing slightly as if he's some predator she can't challenge by holding his gaze."Yes," Micheal says and she can hear the smile in his voice. "Tall, cloven-hooved, a bit... animalistic, really.""That sounds disgusting," Eleanor whispers to his shoulder. Her head bowing more and shoulders drawing up as if she could pop out of existence if she made herself small enough, beside him. "...do you enjoy having sex with humans?"Michael doesn't give her a real answer and laughs for what feels like minutes. Finally, he only responds with. "I enjoy torturing humans."He snaps his fingers and her clothing disappears. Eleanor's head snaps up to meet his gaze, yet again, just as her arms cross over her body to hide the sensitive areas.
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"Ah, public nudity isn't your thing. You think it feels too forced and staged, don't you?" Eleanor can't manage to find her words. Her heart is beating quickly and instead of snapping his fingers, Micheal reaches over to press his index finger to her forehead. A light thump. Her clothes are returned but disheveled. The flannel top wide open. Her stretchy bralette tugged down so both firm mounds spill from the top. Her pants unbuttoned and thong tugged to the side, beneath them. She instinctively reaches up to fix her bra and Micheal taps her forehead again to send it right back into a state of disarray. Eleanor glares over at him and tugs it back into place.It's a challenge, she knows. Testing how much she'll take. How quickly she'll back down and cancel the whole endeavor. She refuses to be turned away and wonders if Micheal knows how much his frustrating actions are turning her on. The men that lead her up dusty steps to modest apartments to pass her a drink and make smalltalk never made her blood boil before sex. Michael's desire to simply toy with her is making her writhe right in front of him. Heating her skin and dampening her still skewed underwear. She hates it and loves it. Did Janet also tell him what would really turn her on?With a laugh, Micheal thumps her forehead, again. Harder, this time. Patronizing and infuriating. When Eleanor draws her fist back, aiming to punch him instead of attend to her nudity, Micheal blips out of existence just as her fist connects with the back of the couch. She turns quickly to find the man is standing over her. Angrily, she shoots up from her seat to meet his eye as closely as standing on her tiptoes will allow. She's always been the dominant one! The one that toys with others, calls them names, and takes her fill of their less-than-stellar offerings. How is it that being played around with like she's just some dumb toy is making her arousal skyrocket just as high as her irritation?Micheal fixes her with the same, creepy little smile and she finds that the small and helpless feeling his magical attention inspires is a full-blown turn-on. At least the man can't read her mind. Small miracles. Eleanor stands in the most intimidating fashion she can summon. Bare chest puffed out. Breaths heavy and deep as her shoulders rise and sink with her agitation. The man gives her a pitying look, shaking his head lightly as he clicks his tongue. "Are you done pretending you don't want this in whatever way I'll give it to you?""I don't like being forked with, Micheal," she says. Planting her feet as if concentrating will give her an advantage over this seemingly omnipotent creature. "Oh, but you do," he corrects her. He tilts his head with mild curiosity as his fingers slide up the side of one exposed breast. He grins as she shudders at the touch. "You've always wanted this and never found it in life. A... masculine figure that can truly overwhelm and overpower you. A man with tables you can't turn. What an admirable, little cockroach you are.""Don't call me that!""Should I use the other word?" Micheal asks as he drops his hand and circles Eleanor.The couch disappears to give him room to pace around her. She looks straight ahead, determined not to show him her fear. Especially since nothing has made her scared enough to run away. There's some sick satisfaction in wondering if he'd ever allow her to run. Could she take a step forward, right now, and be suddenly flung into a wall by the predator she knows Micheal truly is?"Other word?" she asks in a whisper. Does he know what fantasies live inside her when men are kissing down her cheeks and sliding into her with such love and adoration? Does he know she's bored to tears and imagining angrier faces and harsher words?"You have several. A few, you've even asked me to call you as you near your... carnal completion, shall we say?" Micheal says as he moves to stand behind Eleanor. The front of his shirt and belt pressed against her back. The cock he's hinted at, but not shown, pressing into her bottom. She wiggles against it and he chuckles. "Slut."Eleanor freezes. There's a war inside her.What she wants vs. What she'll allow. The only men she'd ever pictured calling her names were movie stars. Men far too rich and successful to be cowed by a little thing like her. The guys she met at bars? Her coworkers? That random cop that pulled her over for speeding and ended up too distracted by her offers to leave her with a ticket? Those guys had no right to think of her as anything but a gift. A hottie bestowing her riches to... what was that word Tahani had used? Peons. No one she'd ever fucked had earned the right to even pretend to look down on her. "Disrespectful, I know," Micheal murmurs soothingly into her ear as one arm circles her waist. Eleanor squirms as if considering pushing him away, but falls still, yet again. "Whore. Bench. excuse me." He snaps his fingers, clears his throat, and tries again. "Bitch. You know, the usual words for what you think you are but refused to be called in life. Does it feel good to finally be touched by someone that knows? Someone who doesn't fear you? Who can do whatever they want without repercussions?""Micheal..." the word a warning that sounds like a request. She decides against speaking, again.
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Micheal hisses rather absently for silence as he takes a couple of steps back to make room for him to button-up Eleanor's open flannel. His eyes focus on his moving fingers and Eleanor feels equally offended and turned on by his dismissal of her."Just making this a little more your style, for now," Michael offers like the celestial service-top Eleanor secretly hopes he is. "Do you want the lights a little higher? Lower? What about the crowd? Not enough bystanders?"Eleanor's fists clench at her sides as her thighs squeeze together. Her belly is trembling with her need for something. Anything, more. "Micheal, I swear to shrimp cocktail that I am so ungodly horny, right now, that if you don't put something inside of me this instant, I'm going to grind you into this floor and then eat your head like a praying fucking mantis."A hand zips to the middle of Micheal's chest, and then suddenly it's tugging at the bowtie at his neck."Oh Goody! Murderously Horny Eleanor is always a favorite!" Micheal says as he drops both his hands and allows the tiny blonde beneath him to drag him towards the couch. She backs up to the leather furniture and drops down onto it, tugging Michael face-first towards her. His arms shoot out to either side of her head against the back of the couch to catch himself.Eleanor grits her teeth and tugs him until his nose is pressed to hers. "First: Stop being cute. Second: Go back to being scary. Third: Magic these clothes away and FUCK me, buddy. Come on!"Michael rolls his eyes with a sigh. "Fine, but I haven't gotten my pelvis grinded off since long before you died. I'm a little turned on, just thinking about it.""Geez, next time, ok," she agrees while letting go of his bowtie to shove both hands between their legs and grab him through his slacks. She grins up at him like a loon and slips down the couch to spread her legs wider, Michael's body shifting with hers. "Now, turn into a sixty-foot tall tentacle monster and defile me like you mean it!""I think for a realistic exhibitionism fantasy, a gigantic monster may spoil things.""Not if this club is in Tokyo?""...is that...""Maybe. Forget I said it. I could almost feel myself losing points."Her shoulders an the back of her neck bat up against the couch as their pants disappear and the insane length of Micheal's demonhood rests against her sex, hot and nearly seething with precum. As fluid dribbles down him to pool on her mound, she bites her bottom lip and coos with genuine love at the gorgeous mess between their thighs. "Oh, Michael, that is obscene.""See, I knew you'd like it," He chuckles, drawing his hips back just as he tries again to pet him there. "Ah, ah ah. I think you insisted I fuck you post-haste. Hands off or I'll cuff you.""PLEASE CUFF ME.""How did I not see that coming," he scoffs with a snap of his fingers. Eleanor shoots a few more inches up the back of the couch, her wrists crossed over her head and with iron cuffs and a heavy chain connecting her to a wall. The scene behind him changes, as well. The club is suddenly not full of dancers that are meant to stumble upon the tawdry tableau on the couch near the back wall. The scene becomes full-on orgy. A menagerie of feathers and fur as most of them wear costumes or are perhaps something slightly not of Eleanor's world. All humanoid and beautiful. Skin sparkling. The scents of the room full of musky sex and floral affection. Eleanor doesn't strain much to see the fountains of wine and bacchanalian display of both activity and food. Her eyes are only for Micheal. His hair slightly longer and silkier as if he hasn't cut it in weeks. Impressive horns jutting from his forehead as a hint to his legacy. The horns are dark and glossy like Eleanor would have imagined demon horns. They curl slightly back on themselves and Eleanor's eyes nearly glaze over with pleasure at the sight of them."Next time we bang, I want my hands free so I can hang on to those bad boys.""I'm sure you'd let go as soon as you get a taste of this," He draws her gaze to his own before looking down to the darkening length in his hand. Red with arousal at the tip, Eleanor feels herself drooling at the smooth transition of color as his dripping, blushing cock's shaft remains pale, pink, and strewn liberally with thick, blue veins. Micheal rests one hand on Eleanor's hip and the other guides him against her sex. Both of them slick with need, he doesn't dawdle with rubbing against her opening or teasing the erect clit that stands eager above him. He simply pushes into her in one smooth stroke. Her hips leaping up off the couch as if there's an option for some relief from his demonic length and girth. A strangled noise leaves her throat and just as Micheal had predicted, her wrists and fingers go limp in their cuffs."That first stroke has always made you go limp," he says gently as he lays down over her form. Big hands cupping behind her neck as he makes it a little easier for his tall body to sink fully into her smaller one. "After all, what you've always wanted was to let go. It's hard to trust other humans with that sort of thing, I understand. I know you so well, after all. And... nowadays, I don't want to hurt you."Eleanor whimpers slightly and murmurs something that may be along the lines of "How can you talk, right now?""Oh, oh yes... I just wanted to makes sure we set up a safe word. Can you say "Jeremy Bearamy?""Who," she squeaks slightly as he pulls backwards. "God that feels so... Who is Jere..."He forces himself forward. The glimmer of concentration of his face so intense that Eleanor melts both at the sight of it and the assault on her nethers. "Don't care! More!"