The bass from the speakers wasn't just sound—it was a second heartbeat, thudding through the concrete floor, up my legs, settling somewhere just beneath my sternum. The backstage pass dangled from my neck, a laminated impossibility that still felt warm from the printer. I’d won some contest I barely remembered entering, my Instagram handle buried in a comment section alongside three fire emojis and a desperate please-notice-me.
And now I was here.
The corridor smelled like industrial cleaner and something sweeter, maybe cologne, maybe the ghost of a fog machine from the stage. Twenty feet away, a door opened and closed with a soft click. Voices. Then footsteps.
I pressed my spine against the wall like I could dissolve into the drywall.
A security guard nodded at me—the same one who'd checked my pass three times, squinting at my face like I might be a hologram—and then he was gone, swallowed by a side door, and the corridor went quiet except for that bass, muffled now, a distant thunder.
Breathe.
Then the door opened again.
It wasn't the guard.
Michael Jackson stepped into the corridor, and the air changed. Thickened. He was taller than I'd imagined, lean in black slacks and a button-down the color of bone, sleeves rolled to his elbows. No sunglasses. His eyes found me immediately, and something flickered there—recognition, sharp and amused, a secret I hadn't been told yet.
"You're the one," he said.
Not a question.
His voice slid under my skin. Velvet over gravel.
"I—yes. Hi. The contest. I'm—"
"I know who you are." He took a step closer. Then another. The distance between us collapsed to something intimate, something that made my lungs forget their job. "I've been reading you."
The word landed wrong. Or right. Reading.
"Reading... me?"
"Your stories." A pause. His head tilted, a half-smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "The ones you post online. About me."
My stomach dropped so fast I felt it in my knees.
The fanfics. The explicit, shameless, please-god-don't-let-anyone-I-know-find-these fanfics I'd been writing for two years under an anonymous handle on a site buried deep enough that normal humans shouldn't have been able to stumble across it. Stories full of things I'd never say aloud, my own name swapped for a protagonist who was braver than me, dirtier than me, who did things with her mouth and her hips that I'd only ever typed out at two in the morning with my laptop burning my thighs.
"You..." My voice cracked. "You found them?"
"I have people who find things." His eyes didn't leave mine. "When I'm curious about someone."
Someone. He was curious about someone. And that someone was in a front-row seat at his concert, and then somehow—impossibly—backstage, wearing a crop top that showed off the silver barbell pierced through my navel, the one I'd gotten on a dare in college and kept because it made me feel like a different person when I caught my reflection.
His gaze dropped. To the belly ring. Lingered.
"This." He reached out, but didn't touch. His finger hovered an inch from the silver, the little gem that caught the fluorescent light and threw it back in blues and whites. "You wrote about this. In chapter four. The hotel room scene."
Oh god.
He'd read chapter four.
The one where I'd described—in painstaking, word-by-word detail—a fantasy version of myself on her knees, his thumb circling the jewelry in her navel, his mouth following the path of his hand, his voice murmuring filth against her skin. I'd written that paragraph seventeen times, deleting and rewriting, my face hot, my thighs pressed together.
"Standing here, you're quiet," he said. He was close enough now that I could smell him—clean soap, something woodsy, the faint chemical sweetness of stage makeup lingering near his jaw. "But in those stories..." A soft laugh. "In those stories, you're not quiet at all."
"That's—that's fiction."
"Is it?" His hand moved. Not to my stomach. To my chin. Two fingers beneath it, tilting my face up. The touch was feather-light but commanding, a question that wasn't asking for permission. "Because I read every chapter. Twice. And I don't think someone writes those things without meaning them. Without wanting them."
My mouth opened. Nothing came out.
"Chapter seven," he continued, and his voice dropped, lower, a register that vibrated somewhere in my chest. "The backstage scene. Interesting that we're here now, don't you think? Almost like you manifested it. You wrote about a door. A security guard who disappears. Me, finding you, telling you that I'd read your words."
I hadn't manifested anything. I wasn't that powerful. But the coincidence—the specificity—made the hallway tilt sideways.
"You remember how that chapter goes from here?"
My breath caught. Of course I remembered. I'd written it. Every word was seared into my brain because I'd agonized over dialogue, over pacing, over whether the protagonist saying please was too submissive or just submissive enough.
"You back me against the wall," I whispered.
"Say it again. Like you mean it."
My voice steadied, just barely. "You back me against the wall. And you tell me to stop pretending I didn't write those things for you to find."
His smile widened, slow and satisfied, like I'd passed some test I didn't know I was taking. His hand left my chin. Settled on my hip instead, thumb hooking through the belt loop of my jeans. The denim tugged, just slightly. Just enough.
"You wrote that I'd press my thigh between your legs." His face was inches from mine. "You wrote that I wouldn't kiss you yet. That I'd make you wait. Make you ask."
I was shaking. Not visibly—I hoped not visibly—but something inside my ribcage was vibrating like a struck tuning fork.
"That's what I wrote," I managed.
"But here's the thing about fiction." His thigh slid forward, barely brushing the inside of mine, and my breath left me in a rush. "Fiction can be edited. Rewritten. Improved. I have notes."
Notes.
"The belly ring," he said, and his voice went rougher. Hunger breaking through the velvet. "In your story, I notice it. I touch it. But I don't—" He paused, and his thumb moved from my belt loop to the sliver of bare skin between my jeans and the hem of my crop top. The touch was electric, a live wire pressed to my stomach. "I don't worship it. Not the way I want to. Not the way you deserve to have it worshipped."
The word deserve hit like a glass of wine on an empty stomach.
"Show me," he said.
"What?"
"The belly ring. Properly."
My hands moved before my brain caught up. I pinched the fabric of my crop top and lifted it, just an inch, then two, exposing the pale skin of my stomach and the silver jewelry glinting there. The air in the corridor was cold against my midriff, or maybe I was just hyperaware of every temperature change, every molecule touching me.
He went still. Really still. The kind of still that precedes something breaking open.
"Beautiful," he murmured. The word wasn't for me—it was for the jewelry, the way the barbell pierced through skin, the tiny gem that caught the light. He lowered himself, and I realized with a jolt that he was kneeling. Kneeling. Michael Jackson, on the floor of a backstage corridor, his face level with my navel.
"I wrote you on your knees," I breathed. "Chapter seven."
"You wrote me on my knees for a different reason." His breath fanned across my stomach, warm and intentional. "I'm revising." He looked up at me, and the power dynamic shifted so fast my head spun—he was below me but he owned this moment, owned me, owned every inch of space between us. "You're going to stand there. Quiet. And you're going to let me."
His lips grazed the skin above the barbell.
Not a kiss. A promise of one.
My hands fisted at my sides. The wall behind me was the only thing keeping me vertical.
"Chapter four," he said against my stomach, "you wrote that I'd taste you. That I'd trace the jewelry with my tongue and it would feel like a prayer." His mouth closed over the silver barbell, warm and wet, and my hips jerked forward without permission. "But you didn't go far enough. You pull back. Right when it gets good, you cut away to the next scene. Why is that?"
"Because I—" A gasp as his tongue flicked the gem. "Because I didn't know. What it would actually feel like."
"And now?"
His lips traveled lower, following the curve of the barbell, the tiny metal ball beneath my skin, the sensitive flesh around it. He kissed the piercing like it was something sacred. Like he'd been waiting years to do exactly this. His tongue traced a slow circle and I made a sound—low, involuntary, something between a whimper and his name.
"Now you know," he said.
He wasn't asking.
His hands found my hips, gripping them hard enough to anchor me. His mouth was relentless, lips and tongue and the gentle scrape of teeth, worshipping the piercing with a single-minded focus that made my vision blur at the edges. Every nerve in my body had relocated to that one point, the silver-studded focal point of his attention.
"You're going to rewrite chapter four," he said, pulling back just enough to speak, his breath hot and damp on my slick skin. "And chapter seven. And every other chapter you ever wrote about me."
"Why?" The word was barely air.
"Because fiction," he said, rising to his feet, his body pressing mine into the wall, his mouth hovering a millimeter from my ear, "becomes autobiography tonight."
His hand flattened against my stomach, palm covering the piercing, possessive and warm and trembling with something that felt like the beginning of an earthquake.
why am i seeing supposed michael jackson “fans” switching up on him after watching the documentary. first of all, why are you even watching that shit and engaging with that mess of a documentary when it was engineered from the start to manipulate people who don’t know the actual history. netflix purposely edited, cut, rearranged, and stripped context from interviews to make him look like a bad person, and the fact that anyone is letting this override actual legal history is embarrassing. michael jackson went through one of the most aggressive criminal investigations in modern entertainment, including a five month trial in 2005 where the prosecution brought in over seventy witnesses and still failed to produce a single piece of evidence. the jury didn’t hesitate. they acquitted him on every count because the case collapsed under real scrutiny. the fbi investigated him for more than ten years, monitored his phones, raided his homes, interviewed everyone around him, and found absolutely nothing. not a single illegal image. not a single witness who could substantiate wrongdoing. nothing. and netflix still refuses to mention that independent child psychologists, social workers, and trained forensic interviewers who evaluated the children involved found no indicators of abuse, that multiple families testified under oath that michael never behaved inappropriately, and that the santa barbara sheriff’s department conducted surprise inspections of neverland during the 90s and found nothing suspicious. the documentary also ignores that michael’s bedroom had an open door policy with staff constantly entering, that he was rarely alone due to security protocols, and that his medical team, tutors, and housekeepers never reported anything concerning.
it ignores that michael’s dermatologist and physicians documented his vitiligo and lupus, conditions that required constant treatment and made the idea of secretive, undetected abuse medically implausible it ignores that michael’s dermatologist and physicians documented his vitiligo and lupus, conditions that required constant medical examinations, full‑body skin evaluations, and regular specialist check‑ups, meaning multiple doctors were routinely inspecting his skin and overall health in ways that would have made any hidden injuries, secretive behaviour, or undetected abusive patterns medically implausible. it ignores that michael donated over 300 million dollars to children’s charities, funded burn units, paid for organ transplants, and visited hospitals worldwide without cameras, something even journalists acknowledged as genuine. meanwhile, the accusers contradicted their own stories, changed timelines, made claims that were physically impossible, and had lawsuits dismissed because their narratives didn’t match reality. michael never paid anyone to say he was innocent. the 1993 settlement was handled by his insurance company against his wishes, something confirmed in court documents. he never bribed a witness. he never paid for silence. he never bought loyalty. the people accusing him, on the other hand, repeatedly sought financial compensation, filed lawsuits after going bankrupt, and only “remembered” abuse when money became involved. the documentary also refuses to mention that both safechuck and robson’s lawsuits were thrown out because their claims were legally impossible. safechuck said he was abused in a train station that didn’t exist yet. robson testified under oath for twenty years that michael never touched him and only changed his story when he was denied a job by the estate. netflix doesn’t include any of this because it destroys the narrative they’re selling. and if you watched this documentary and suddenly don’t know what to believe, you’re letting a streaming service override court transcripts, sworn testimony, fbi files, independent psychological evaluations, medical records, and decades of evidence. if a documentary is enough to shake your belief in michael’s innocence, you were never a fan. michael jackson was investigated more intensely than any celebrity in history and came out clean every single time.
ARUGE WITH YOUR MOTHER MICHAEL WAS INNOCENT !!!!!!!! i will forever defend that man idgaf ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
could you do a michael x reader where the reader is young and rowdy. like basically how bad era mike would handle a rowdy loud party girl in her twenties? you can add smut if you want!
TOUGH CROWD
f!reader (young and wild reader) / bad era michael
part 1 (part 2 - spotlight)
(lowercase INTENDED!) & not proofread ! 18+, age gap, sexual themes, smut, praise, degradation, mention of breeding, dom!michael, oral (f receiving), public sex (if you really think about it), implied face riding.
preview: young, wild, and free you decide to bust into a hollywood party under your dj friends identity. thinking you are hiding pretty well and enjoying the night recklessly, you don’t realize the pinned point stare that has been dragging across your body the moment you walked in.
A/N: oh reading this request already had my brain go fuzzy at the thought of writing this out 😭 i’m actually so excited to write smut after so long maybe because i’m a secret freak in the inside LMAOO. n e ways, this one is a bit longer so hope you enjoy the ride !! (no pun intended LMFAOO)
“y/n this is absolutely ridiculous” your friend spoke while flicking her cigarette butt in the ash tray next to her as you roll your eyes.
you had just finished coming back home from another night out in west hollywood. mascara dried around your eyelids, lipstick nowhere to be found on your lips, and somehow you missed one shoe and you couldn’t find your bra.
your friend couldn’t stop laughing at your pathetic awakening as you roll your eyes soon tucking your legs under the soft blanket wrapped over your seat.
“it’s not though. especially when you think about being surrounded by a-list celebrities and filthy rich people.” shrugging, your friend raises their brow before tucking a strand of hair behind their ear attentively.
your plan was easy.
use your friends name under tonight’s huge celebrity club event in calabasas, sneak into the main room, and lose yourself all night once again enjoying the last few years of your youth.
3 night outs in a row and you still weren’t sick of the life. yeah maybe relaxing in bed and watching old movies was cool, but you also enjoyed the idea of living your life to the fullest every day. whether it’s clubbing all night, driving to another state, or breaking into celebrity areas to get your name around.
it felt like a challenge to do, which made you enjoy the risks of it even more.
your friend slips their dj credentials on the marble table across from you soon letting it slip below the tips of your fingers. as you come across the slip of paper you see all the information you must memorize before tonight.
this was the boring part of the whole thing.
actually learning and trying to become the person you aren’t.
“if anything fails, just know i’m not paying for your bail or bond money.” laughing at your sudden change of facial expression you let out another exhausted sigh looking at the paper once again.
tonight was going to be fun.
tonight was already a pain in your ass.
you lost count of the amount of times you flirted your way through the entire line of celebrities and people who wanted to just beg the bouncers to pass inside.
by the time 12am strikes, you finally reach the front of the line. the bouncer gives you a stern gaze by seeing your act of skipping the line, now dragging his eyes from your head to your toes.
before you could open your mouth and speak, he opens his hand letting his palm face upwards towards you. “name? id? invite?” 3 questions in 2 seconds my gosh.
what happened to hello pretty face? or better yet, nice tits, move inside.
you don’t like people sexualizing you or your body, BUT you couldn’t also deny your beauty and your overall attraction.
there’s a difference between feeling confident and throwing yourself out there like meat. and you were most certainly not the second one.
giving it a few seconds, you dig into your small vintage coach bag before taking out the fake id with your friends information.
thank god for marketing and art degrees.
you thought as your eyes stay stuck upon the bouncers. as his slimy fingers touch your own he looks down at the id. lips twist in amusement before looking back up at you.
“ok.” he quietly says.
that’s it.
nothing else nothing more before moving to the side as you give him a small half smile of appreciation. before walking halfway near him you soon hear the small whisper you were waiting for, now leave past his lips.
“damn nice tits.”
knew it.
laughing to yourself at the coincidence you slowly walk inside the nightclub. strobe flashes appear in different sides of the room as the place was packed full of people. you can surely smell the stench of perfume, sweat, and sweet liquor surround yourself as you breath in the smell.
you were back in your area.
before you knew it you begin your nightly fun.
drink after drink after drink you were sure you were already tipsy. however you were still well aware of your surroundings and your actions since you knew your limit. yet that did not stop you from still having shots poured in your mouth by random celebrities every 10 minutes.
as you continue having fun and spreading little harmless lies about your “career” as a dj, you don’t seem to realize the long hard stare that was coming from across the floor and towards your side.
michael was sitting near a booth quietly people watching as his team spread throughout the nightclub. all while making sure to make more connections for possible music collaborations or deals.
he wasn’t in the right headspace as he drowns down another shot of crown royal. the taste lingering like a buzz down his throat as his eyes stop towards your frame.
its been weeks since he’s been able to catch a break from the ‘bad’ tour and the promotions. his one night free a week kept him at-least sane before having to work 5 straight days non stop once more.
“who’s she?” michael questions towards his security guard as the older man simply shrugs his shoulders and rolls his neck, soon fixing his jacket collar. “i’m not so sure sir.”
“michael” he cuts off towards his security once more with an annoyed yet exhausted sigh. no matter how many times michael asks his staff to call him his actual name, they insist on being professional and calling him sir or mr. jackson.
and god how he hated those names with a burning desire.
“i could potentially find out.” michael’s eyes snap away from you and towards his security before giving him a quick nod.
he watched subtly as his security scavenge through the crowd of people, soon asking a few others that had talked to you and asking them who you were.
michael later catches him walk back with his hands firm inside his pockets. “she’s a dj sir. apparently for a few other musicians.”
michael nods at his words still looking at you from afar. your presence attracting him even more as he watches you climb over the bar top with a few men placing their hands on your ankles for “support”
yeah support bullshit.
he watches more attentively at the multiple men gawking over the sight over them. hands in your hair, top falling off your shoulders now letting your collarbone and complexion shine bare through the lights, and you dancing without a care in the world.
he KNEW he had to talk to you.
yet he didn’t know how, especially with the crowd of other celebrities around. he knew there wasn’t going to be any gossip or spill on what he would do tonight. especially considering it was mostly well known people here.
everyone swore to secrecy and signed nda’s to be able to even attend. nothing leaves the nightclub and nothing is spoke of outside of it.
“sir..?” his security interrupts as he watches michael now stand up before fixing his leather jacket and belt silently. “michael—“
he stops before looking back at his security. “i’ll be okay.”
and with that walks off towards where you were currently dancing at.
you laugh so loud as an older actor you’ve seen on your screen before touches your ankle and throws a small pack of cash near your heel.
“to support that little dj business of yours pretty face.” he shouts through the loud music as you lower yourself still over the bar table, soon grabbing his jaw with your fingers.
“beat it old man.” you snark as he rolls his eyes and unlatches his hands away from your body. your heel now pressing the cash pile he has thrown to prevent him from grabbing it, he walks off annoyed.
you were starting to get bored of this place. you would think rich people and celebrities have an actual soul or some sort of interest but my gosh how you were also so incredibly wrong.
you jump off the table before sitting in a barstool now placing the palms of your hands over the cold marble detailing.
sweat started to shine on your skin as your shirt now revealed your lace bra underneath without a care in the world. you were just breathless and tired.
“may i buy you a drink?” you hear a voice suddenly near your ear. immediately setting you off, you turn around to see someone hovering over.
“well look who we have here..” your gaze meets his as you tilt your head back to see him even better. michael jackson standing in-front of you with a look so firm on your own you couldn’t even focus on your surroundings.
just him and those dark eyes of his.
“well i see you know me” he leans on the table top before you straighten yourself better. “but i don’t know you” his lip now tuck between his teeth with a slow bite, you sense your skin once again heating up. “i’m sage” you reply instantly with your friends name as he slowly nods his head.
michael’s eyes follows from your eyes to your cheeks, later following the curve of your neck to your collarbone and the pretty pink lace bra peaking from underneath.
his legs shift a bit still standing as he felt himself tense up. his pants tightening at the casual semi-nudeness of yourself on display in a public setting like this.
“well sage…you do have a habit of being very loose don’t you?” your lips part at the shocking comment, not knowing what to say. “excuse you?”
michael laughs under his breath before leaning in to make sure you hear his every word. “dancing with those men touching over you like some sort of statue award. you like being an object of desires? reckless in public and showing off?”
michael never had such confidence then he did right now. maybe it was the fact he was on his 4th drink of the night. or maybe simply the fact that he hasn’t had any contact with any woman in over 7 months because of tour.
could also be the way your eyes suddenly flutter at him or the way you touch his hand laying on the marble. “wouldn’t you like to know, old man.” you play into a game as michael’s breath suddenly hitch at your comment.
old man. pfft please.
michael grabs your hand firmly before making your face come inches across his own. you could smell a minty fresh scent coming off of him as you slowly inhale.
out of all the celebrities you’ve met so far, you never would’ve have expected to come across him. especially being so natural at what he does or how obnoxiously hot he looked and good he smelt.
“you’re a messy problem.”
“then fix it.”
were the last few words you can slip out of your mouth before the next thing you knew your body is pushed upon the tile wall behind you.
the bathroom door instantly clicks locked as michael’s hands rummaged through your hips all the way towards your chest. one hand grasping onto your left tit as he nibbles and sucks on the nape of your neck.
“you’re so sweet.” he murmurs on your skin as you felt his teeth suddenly graze down. michael was focused on having you feel the immense pleasure you could get from him.
your hands go up towards his hair as you sink your fingers in between each curl. without clearly thinking and in a sudden daze, you scrunch your fingers soon pulling onto michael’s hair.
with a deep groan, you gasp out momentarily. “i-im sorry i—“
michael bites your nipple sending waves of shock to transcend down your entire body. you were feeling already in pure ecstasy, even with him just fondling with your tits and biting onto your skin—leaving wet kisses down every crevice he could find empty.
“do it again.” was the only thing he commanded before continuing to give you pleasure. your fingers scrunch up again pulling his hair as he continued to groan, soon letting some sighs and whimpers to pass those pretty lips of his.
michael was STARVING.
he could feel his hips buckle ever so slightly and shifting in his pants as he continued to move down and onto the floor— feeling his knees now drop on the cold nightclub ground.
you, on the other hand, were in utter shock at the sight of michael dropping to his knees and lifting your left leg up to place over his shoulder.
you see his eyes glance up between your legs before pulling down your mini shorts. matching pink lace panties now obscure his view from his meal as he pulls them to the side, now seeing your cunt glisten with your wetness.
“they’re pretty but i needed to see what im eating tonight.” he spoke as he looks at you. your chest rapidly moving as you feel your breathing turn uneven at the sight in-front of you.
without speaking another word, michael dives his head deeper between your legs before placing his lips over your clit. the sudden poke of his tongue flicks over as you suddenly gasp at the feeling.
he starts working his way over—letting his lips shine with your slickness as he pushes your leg over his shoulder higher. at this point you felt your knees slightly shake at both the height your leg was lifted and the feeling of michael’s tongue entering your pussy with downward movements to taste yourself in his mouth.
you couldn’t handle the sensation he was giving you as you place your palm over his forehead, slightly touching his curls to try to push his head back a bit.
only for michael instead to slap your hand away before backing up himself willingly and spitting over your entrance. his spit dripping down your pretty cunt as he lifts his fingers up and smoothes out the drop of spit over. you cry out as you whisper his name under your breath repeatedly.
“michael michael please just—it’s too much” you felt tears slightly sting your eyes as he laughs at you, still letting the pads of his fingers softly touch you. he was mesmerized at the woman he had over his face. your bold, loud, and reckless demeanor instantly changing to sensitive and erotic simply made michael want you even more.
“you can do it baby.” he praises now slipping one finger inside, making your back pull away from the wall and back over it immediately. “you can be a show off dirty girl in-front of other men. married men. older men.”
michael continues now slipping another finger inside and another one. each word slipping his lips, each finger added now creating immense feeling building up in your lower stomach. your mind was hazy and your mouth suddenly dry.
you didn’t care to speak anymore because you knew it wouldn’t get you no where. “isn’t that right dollface?” he asks as you just open your mouth to suddenly shut it once more.
the mix between praise and degradation just submerged you to the deep end as you then feel michael’s free hand lift to your hip and trace figures amongst your lace panty line.
“michael i’m—“ michael suddenly catches you off guard now dipping his head once more while 3 slender fingers pump in and out of your entrance.
his tongue forcing himself inside with his fingers moving while also licking over your clit, made you finally lose control. michael senses it as he pulls back and continues working with his fingers. hooking them up to hit your spot slightly as a tease.
he knew the affect he had on you and right now it was the most important and hottest thing he’s ever done or seen the last few months of his life.
“let go for me baby. cmon..” your eyes shut as your head slides back in pleasure. “cum on my fingers you dirty doll.”
michael continues knowing he’s getting to you. closer and closer. his fingers still moving non-stop now hitting you in the perfect spot sending you to collide.
“think about me breeding that pretty pussy of yours. show me the preview of what i get.”
“oh god michael— yes!” you raise your voice at the thought of him deep inside of you. especially leaving his trace deep behind your pussy.
the idea of his cum leaking out in full display, the pressure of his cock deep in you, and the current feeling of his fingers pumping sends you over the edge as you gasp.
before you knew it, both your hands now come in contact with michael’s head as you release yourself over him.
his lips now going back as he places your pussy full down to come in contact with his face. michael grips your thigh before going to grip your hips as he suddenly rocks your lower body back and forth.
michael was letting you semi-ride his face as you give him more.
as the bathroom soon settles down into silence from your release, michael gently places your leg back down to the ground before holding your leg upright to prevent you from falling.
your knees were buckling as your legs were sore. you could barely even stand up if it weren’t for the fact that michael’s hands were holding you straight.
he pulls himself back up as your eyes go down to see the tightness in his pants. his growing bulge slightly poking out as he rubs his palm over the material.
“not so loud and proud after that right?” you roll your eyes before playfully giving him a smack on his shoulder. he laughs letting you hear his gentle chuckle as your heart beats at the sound.
“i know nothing is meant to leave the place but leave with me?” michael wasn’t asking. he was pretty much PLEADING.
you lean up to gently place your lips over his. your taste still lingering on his mouth as he uses his tongue to deepen the kiss even more. your tongues both intertwine as you give his a soft bite soon hearing him whimper and push himself closer to your body again, now parting away from your mouth.
“well i’d love to mr. jackson.”
michael playfully smiles hearing the name. at that moment he didn’t hate it as much as he normally did. maybe your soft voice and that look of your eyes made him go stupid. because the sound of that name leaving your mouth only made him more harder than he was before.
his hand grasps yours as he pulls the lock away from the door. soon opening the door to come across more people flooding the nightclub floor. suddenly you force michael to turn back around to face you.
“and it’s y/n! not sage btw.” michael stops before giving you a soft smile at the sudden truthfulness.
he knew you already had lied about who you were. the name you had given him was the same name and credentials the dj he met a few parties ago had.
he just didn’t have the time or headspace to ruin that little secret moment of yours.
“then y/n baby let’s go.” pulling you back near him you both soon begin heading out, hands still holding onto each-other tightly through the packed crowd.
you soon left everything behind— excluding the future you both carried outside the nightclub together afterwards.
off the wall!michael x reader having a pool party + sleepover at Michael’s house in Encino but michael gets jealous when he spots his brothers trying to hit on reader
oooo jealous michael i lovvveee !!!! hope you enjoy angel ଘ( ᴗ͈ ᴗ͈)ഒ (sorry for making everyone who requested wait so long > < feel free to request more since i'm all done with my final exams !!! ＼(^o^)／
jealous michael (hehe)
michael’s pool day and sleep over gets chaotic when he sees his brothers flirting with you and suddenly gets way too jealous to hide it.
off the wall michael x fem!reader
AUGUST 18, 1979
the moment you step out of the car, the late afternoon sun settles over you like a soft blanket, warm enough to make your skin glow but gentle enough that it doesn’t feel overwhelming, and you take a slow breath as you look up at the jackson family home, the big white house standing quietly against the bright california sky. the driveway feels familiar beneath your feet, the scent of the neighborhood drifting around you in a mix of jasmine, sun‑warmed pavement, and the faintest hint of chlorine from the backyard. you shift your overnight bag higher on your shoulder, feeling the strap press into your skin as you take a moment to steady yourself, not from nerves but from the strange flutter that always comes with stepping into michael’s world, a world that is loud and loving and full of movement in a way that contrasts with the calm you feel whenever you’re alone with him. you smooth your hand over your clothes even though you already checked yourself in the mirror before getting out of the car, and then you start walking up the driveway, each step slow and steady as the house grows larger in front of you.
you knock lightly even though you know you don’t need to, and before your knuckles even leave the door it swings open to reveal marlon standing there with a towel thrown over his shoulder, his hair damp and his grin wide enough to make you laugh under your breath. he steps aside immediately, waving you in with a dramatic sweep of his arm as he says "you’re here, finally, everyone’s out back" in a voice that’s already buzzing with energy. the cool air of the house washes over you as you step inside, the familiar scent of the jackson home wrapping around you in a way that makes your shoulders relax. you hear voices drifting from deeper in the house, laughter echoing faintly against the walls, and somewhere in the mix you catch the soft sound of michael’s voice, not loud enough to make out the words but enough to make your chest warm. you adjust your grip on your bag and follow marlon down the hallway, your footsteps soft on the polished floor as he leads you toward the backyard.
the moment you step outside, the brightness hits you again, sunlight bouncing off the pool in shimmering ripples that dance across the patio and the walls of the house. the backyard is alive with noise, the kind of playful chaos that only happens when all the brothers are together, and you take a moment to take it all in. towels are scattered across lounge chairs, floaties drift lazily across the water, and someone’s music is playing from a speaker near the sliding door, the beat soft and steady beneath the sound of splashing and laughter. tito is sitting at the edge of the pool with his feet in the water, talking to randy, who’s floating on his back with his eyes closed like he’s pretending to be asleep. jackie is near the grill, flipping something that smells good enough to make your stomach tighten with hunger, and he glances up when he hears you, giving you a warm smile before turning back to what he’s doing.
you set your bag down on one of the lounge chairs, the fabric warm from the sun, and you take a moment to settle yourself, brushing your hair back from your face as you look around the yard. everything feels familiar but still a little overwhelming, the noise and movement swirling around you in a way that makes you feel both welcomed and slightly out of place, the way you always feel when you first arrive before you’ve had a chance to settle into the rhythm of the house. you slip off your shoes and place them neatly beside your bag, letting your toes sink into the warm concrete as you stretch your shoulders, the sun settling comfortably across your back. you can feel the tension of the drive slowly melting away, replaced by the easy comfort of being somewhere you’ve been countless times before, somewhere that feels safe even when it’s loud.
you’re still taking everything in when you hear footsteps behind you, softer than the others, familiar in a way that makes your heart lift without you even turning around. you don’t need to look to know it’s michael, the quiet presence that always seems to move differently from everyone else, and when you finally turn your head he’s already there, standing a few feet away with his dark curls slightly damp and his eyes warm in the sunlight. he’s wearing a simple white tank top and loose shorts, nothing flashy, just him in the most natural way, and the sight of him makes something inside you settle completely. he gives you a soft smile, the kind that feels like a greeting only meant for you, and he says "hi baby, you got here okay?" in a voice that’s gentle and warm, the kind of tone he only uses when he’s talking to you. he doesn’t rush toward you or pull you into anything, he just stands there for a moment, letting you arrive, letting you breathe, letting you settle into the space before anything else happens.
you walk toward him slowly, your steps steady and unhurried, and he tilts his head slightly as he looks at you, his eyes soft and full of quiet affection. "i put some towels out for you already" he says, nodding toward the lounge chairs, "and there’s food if you’re hungry, jackie’s been cooking all afternoon". his voice is calm, steady, familiar, and the way he speaks to you makes your chest feel warm, not from excitement but from the comfort of being with someone who knows you well enough to make everything feel easy. you nod, giving him a small smile, and he reaches out to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his touch light and gentle before he steps back to give you space again.
you take another slow breath, letting the atmosphere settle around you, the noise of the brothers fading slightly as you focus on the feeling of being here, being with michael, being in a place that feels like a second home. you sit down on the lounge chair, the fabric warm beneath you, and michael sitting down on the chair next to yours, close enough that you can feel his presence but not so close that it feels overwhelming. he leans back, stretching his legs out in front of him, and he glances at you with a soft smile that makes your shoulders relax completely. "take your time" he says quietly, his voice barely above the sound of the water, "we’re not doing anything yet, just hanging out". and with that, the last bit of tension leaves your body, replaced by the calm certainty that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.
you sit there for a moment, letting the warmth of the sun soak into your skin as the noise of the backyard swirls around you in a way that feels distant and gentle, like background music instead of something demanding your attention. michael stays beside you, quiet and steady, his presence grounding you more than anything else could. he doesn’t rush you or pull you into the chaos of the pool party, he just sits there with his hands resting loosely on his knees, his curls catching the sunlight in soft glints of gold. every so often he glances at you, not to check on you in a worried way but in that calm, familiar way he always does, like he’s making sure you’re settling in at your own pace. you breathe in slowly, feeling the tension from the drive fade completely as the atmosphere of the house wraps around you, warm and lived in and full of the kind of comfort that only comes from being somewhere you’ve been welcomed into again and again.
after a few minutes, michael leans slightly toward you, his voice soft as he says "your stuff can go in my room whenever you want, i cleared space for you", and the simple thoughtfulness of it makes your chest warm. he says it casually, like it’s nothing, but you know he must have done it earlier in the day, probably before the party even started, making sure there was room for your bag, your clothes, the little things you always bring when you stay over. you nod, giving him a small smile, and he returns it with one of his own, gentle and warm, before standing up and offering you his hand. you take it, your fingers slipping easily into his, and he helps you up from the lounge chair with a soft steadiness that makes you feel even more at ease. he picks up your bag with his free hand, holding it effortlessly as he leads you toward the sliding door that opens back into the house.
the moment you step inside, the cool air brushes over your skin again, a welcome contrast to the heat outside, and the familiar scent of the house settles around you like a quiet reminder that this place has become something close to a second home. michael walks ahead of you down the hallway, his steps light and unhurried, and you follow him past framed photos on the walls, old awards, and little pieces of the family’s history that you’ve seen so many times they feel almost comforting. he pushes open his bedroom door with his shoulder, the hinges creaking softly, and the room looks exactly like you remember it, warm and tidy with soft sunlight spilling through the window and landing across the bed in a golden stripe. he sets your bag gently on the edge of the mattress, turning to you with that same soft expression he always gets when you’re in his space, like having you here makes the room feel more complete.
you take a moment to look around, letting your eyes move over the familiar details, the neatly stacked records, the books on his nightstand, the jacket draped over the back of his chair, and the small things that make the room feel like him. you place your shoes beside your bag and smooth your hands over the bedspread, feeling the soft fabric beneath your palms as you settle into the space. michael stands near the dresser, watching you with a quiet fondness that isn’t overwhelming, just steady and warm, and he says "you can change in here if you want, i’ll wait outside" in a tone that’s gentle and respectful, giving you space without making a big deal out of it. you nod, and he gives you a small smile before stepping out of the room, pulling the door almost closed behind him but leaving it open just enough that you can still hear the faint sounds of the backyard drifting through the house.
you open your bag and pull out your swim clothes, laying them neatly on the bed before changing at your own pace, the quiet of the room giving you a moment to breathe and settle fully into the day. the fabric is cool against your skin as you slip into it, and when you’re done you fold your regular clothes and place them carefully on the chair beside the dresser. you take a moment to look at yourself in the mirror, adjusting your hair and smoothing your hands over your bikini top and shorts before stepping back into the noise of the backyard. the sunlight catches on your skin, making everything look soft and warm, and for a moment you just stand there, letting the calm of the room settle into your bones.
when you finally open the door, michael is leaning against the wall across from his room, his arms loosely crossed and his head tilted slightly as he looks up at you. his eyes soften immediately, not in a dramatic way but in that quiet, familiar way he always looks at you, like he’s happy you’re here and nothing else matters. he pushes off the wall and walks toward you, his voice warm as he says "you look pretty", and the simplicity of the compliment makes you smile. he reaches out to take your hand again, his fingers curling gently around yours, and together you walk back down the hallway toward the backyard, the sound of laughter growing louder with each step.
when you step outside again, the brightness hits you just like before, but this time it feels easier, like you’ve already settled into the rhythm of the house. the brothers are still scattered around the pool, talking and splashing and teasing each other in the way they always do, and the moment they see you and michael walking out together, the noise shifts slightly, not in a dramatic way but in a warm, welcoming one. marlon waves at you from the water, tito gives you a nod from the edge of the pool, and jackie lifts the lid of the grill to check on the food, glancing over his shoulder to say "you two hungry yet" with a smile that’s easy and familiar. you squeeze michael’s hand gently, and he squeezes back, guiding you toward the lounge chairs again as the afternoon settles into something calm and comfortable, the kind of atmosphere that makes you feel like you can breathe deeply and stay as long as you want.
the brothers are still scattered around the pool, their voices rising and falling in bursts of laughter and playful teasing, but none of it feels directed at you or demanding your attention. it’s just the background noise of a family that’s used to being loud together, and you let it wash over you as you settle deeper into the lounge chair. jackie flips something on the grill, the smell drifting across the yard in a warm wave that makes your stomach tighten with hunger, and he calls out "food’s almost ready" without even looking up, his voice carrying easily over the water. tito dips his feet back into the pool, humming along to the music playing from the speaker, and randy floats lazily on his back, drifting in slow circles like he’s perfectly content to stay there forever. everything feels unhurried, like the whole afternoon has stretched itself out just for you to settle into it.
michael turns his head toward you, his curls brushing lightly against his forehead as he studies your face with that quiet attentiveness he always has. "you okay, baby?" he asks softly, his voice low enough that it doesn’t carry beyond the two of you, and the way he says it isn’t worried or pressing, just gentle and warm, like he wants to make sure you’re easing into the day in your own time. you nod, giving him a small smile, and he returns it with one of his own, the corners of his mouth lifting in that soft, familiar way that always makes your chest feel lighter. he reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly against your knee, a simple touch that feels grounding rather than demanding, and then he leans back again, letting you breathe and take everything in without rushing you into anything.
you take a slow breath, letting the warmth of the sun settle across your shoulders as you watch the water ripple in the pool, the light catching on the surface in shimmering patterns that dance across the patio. the breeze lifts your hair gently, brushing it across your cheek, and you tuck it behind your ear as you let your eyes wander across the yard. everything feels peaceful in a way that’s rare when the whole family is together.
after a while, he shifts slightly, turning his body toward you a little more as he says "if you want, we can sit by the pool instead", his voice soft and thoughtful, like he’s offering you an option rather than a suggestion. you nod again, appreciating how he always seems to know exactly how to move at your pace, and he stands up slowly, offering you his hand once more. you take it, your fingers slipping into his easily, and he helps you up from the lounge chair with that same gentle steadiness as before. together, you walk toward the edge of the pool, the concrete warm beneath your feet, and you sit down beside him, letting your legs dangle over the edge as the cool water laps softly against your skin.
the brothers barely glance over, too caught up in their own conversations and games to pay much attention, and the lack of focus on you feels strangely comforting. you dip your toes deeper into the water, the coolness spreading slowly up your legs, and michael sits beside you with his hands resting on the edge of the pool, his posture relaxed and open. he looks out at the water for a moment before turning his head toward you again, his eyes soft and warm in the sunlight. "i’m glad you’re here" he says quietly as he kisses the back of your hand, the words simple but full of meaning, and the way he says it makes your chest feel full in a slow, gentle way that settles deep inside you.
michael leans slightly toward you, brushing his shoulder against yours as he murmurs "i’m gonna run inside for a second, i’ll be right back", his voice warm and casual, and you nod, giving him a small smile as he stands up. he squeezes your hand gently before stepping away, disappearing into the cool quiet of the house. you stay where you are, letting your feet sway gently in the water as you watch the sunlight dance across the pool, the warmth of the afternoon settling comfortably around you. the breeze lifts your hair again as you glance around the yard. everything feels peaceful, unhurried, familiar. you lean back on your hands, stretching your legs a little deeper into the water, and for a moment it feels like the whole world has slowed down just enough for you to breathe. but then you hear footsteps approaching, light and quick across the concrete, and when you look up you see jermaine walking toward you with a grin that’s a little too bright, his hair still dripping from the pool as he pushes it back from his forehead. he stops beside you, planting his hands on his hips as he tilts his head and says "you’re awfully quiet over here", his tone playful but edged with something else you can’t quite place. you smile politely, not thinking much of it, and he drops down onto the concrete beside you, letting his feet slip into the water with a splash that sends cool droplets across your legs. he leans back on his hands, turning his head toward you with a grin that feels a little too focused. "you know, you always look so calm when you’re here" he says, his voice softer now, and you nod, keeping your expression neutral as you look back at the water.
before you can respond, marlon appears on your other side, sliding into the space beside you with a smoothness that feels almost rehearsed. he nudges your shoulder lightly with his own, his grin wide and teasing as he says "michael’s lucky, you know that", his tone light but his eyes lingering on you in a way that makes your stomach tighten. you shift slightly, not wanting to be rude but feeling the sudden closeness of both brothers pressing in on you. marlon dips his hand into the water, flicking a few droplets toward you with a playful smirk as he adds "if he ever messes up, you know where to find me", and even though he says it like a joke, something about the way he looks at you makes your breath catch. jackie calls out from the grill, his voice carrying easily across the yard as he says "you two leave her alone, she just got here", but he’s smiling as he says it, not realizing how close they’ve gotten, how their attention has shifted in a way that feels different from the usual family teasing. randy leans a little closer, his shoulder brushing yours as he says "we’re just talking, nothing wrong with that", and marlon laughs under his breath, his eyes still fixed on you in a way that makes your pulse quicken. you try to shift away subtly, but the edge of the pool keeps you in place, and the sudden intensity of their attention makes your chest tighten with discomfort. you glance toward the house, hoping to see michael coming back, but the sliding door remains closed, the sunlight reflecting off the glass in a way that hides whatever’s happening inside. jermaine nudges your knee lightly with his own, his grin widening as he says "you should come in the pool with us, we’ll keep you company", and marlon adds "yeah, we’ll take care of you", his voice low and teasing in a way that makes your stomach twist. you force a small smile, trying to keep things polite without encouraging anything, but the closeness of their bodies and the way their eyes linger on you makes it hard to breathe evenly.
and then the sliding door opens.
you don’t hear it at first, but you feel the shift in the air, the sudden quiet that falls over the brothers as their eyes flick upward. you turn your head slowly, your heart thudding in your chest, and there he is. michael stands in the doorway, his hand still on the handle, his hands damp from washing them, his expression frozen in a way you’ve never seen before. his eyes move from jermaine to marlon to the space between them where you’re sitting, and something sharp flickers across his face, something protective and wounded and unmistakably jealous.
he doesn’t say anything at first. he just stands there, his jaw tightening slightly, his eyes darkening as he takes in the scene in front of him. the brothers shift uncomfortably, their earlier confidence fading under the weight of michael’s stare, and the air between all of you thickens in a way that makes your breath catch. michael steps forward slowly, his movements controlled but tense, and the closer he gets, the more you can feel the heat of his jealousy simmering beneath the surface, quiet but powerful, the kind that comes from love rather than anger. he stops right behind you, his eyes softening only when they land on your face, and he says your name quietly, his voice low and steady, but there’s something in it that makes your heart twist. "come here, baby" he murmurs, and even though the words are gentle, the emotion behind them is anything but calm.
he leads you a few steps away from the pool, not far enough to make a scene but far enough that the brothers’ voices fade into the background, replaced by the soft hum of the afternoon and the faint splash of water behind you. he stops near the lounge chairs, turning to face you fully, and for a moment he just looks at you, his eyes searching your face with an intensity that makes your chest tighten. his hand stays wrapped around yours, warm and steady, and he takes a slow breath before speaking, his voice low and controlled but edged with something sharp. "were they bothering you" he asks quietly, and even though the words are soft, the tension beneath them is unmistakable, a quiet storm gathering behind his calm expression.
you shake your head gently, not wanting him to think you were uncomfortable even though the brothers’ closeness had made your stomach twist. michael watches your face carefully, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he reads the truth in your expression, and he steps a little closer, his free hand lifting to brush a damp strand of hair away from your cheek. his touch is gentle, but the emotion behind it is anything but calm, and when he speaks again his voice is even softer, almost a whisper. "i didn’t like how they were looking at you", he murmurs, his eyes flicking briefly toward the pool before returning to yours, "not when i wasn’t out here with you". the honesty in his voice makes your heart twist, not because he’s angry but because he’s hurt, protective in a way that comes from loving you deeply and wanting you to feel safe.
you squeeze his hand gently, grounding him, and he exhales slowly, his shoulders relaxing just a little as he looks at you. the sunlight catches on the curve of his cheek, the soft line of his jaw, and for a moment he looks younger, more vulnerable, like the jealousy surprised him as much as it surprised you. he glances toward the pool again, his eyes darkening when he sees marlon and randy pretending not to look over, and he turns his body slightly, positioning himself between you and them without even thinking about it. "they shouldn’t be crowding you like that" he says quietly, his voice steady but firm, "not when you’re my girl". the words aren’t loud or dramatic, just simple and honest, and the way he says them makes your chest warm in a slow, steady way.
he turns back to you fully, his hand still holding yours, and he steps closer until your bodies are only inches apart, the warmth of him settling around you like a shield. his voice softens again, the tension in it easing as he looks into your eyes. "i’m sorry" he murmurs, "i didn’t mean to leave you out here alone like that". you shake your head gently, and he lets out a breath that sounds like relief, his shoulders loosening as he leans his forehead lightly against yours for a moment, the contact soft and grounding. the noise of the backyard fades around you, replaced by the quiet steadiness of his breathing, and for a moment it feels like the two of you are standing in your own small world, separate from everything else.
when he finally pulls back, his expression is calmer, but the protective edge in his eyes hasn’t faded completely. he glances toward the pool again, his jaw tightening just slightly when he sees the brothers still watching from the corner of their eyes, and he slips his arm around your waist gently, guiding you back toward the lounge chairs with a quiet certainty. "stay with me" he says softly, his voice warm but firm, "i want you close". and as he leads you away from the edge of the pool, the brothers shift awkwardly, their earlier boldness gone, replaced by the unmistakable awareness that michael saw everything.
the air between all of you changes, slow and heavy, and you can feel the tension settling into the afternoon like a quiet storm waiting to break.
the sun has dipped low by the time everyone starts packing up, the warm glow fading into a softer evening light and the moment michael closes the bedroom door behind you, the quiet settles around both of you like a heavy blanket, soft but full of everything he’s been holding in. he doesn’t let go of your hand, not even for a second, his grip warm and firm as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he loosens it. he turns toward you slowly, his expression tight with jealousy and frustration, but underneath it all there’s something vulnerable, something that makes your chest ache. he steps closer, his voice low and warm as he murmurs "i didn’t like what happened out there", and the way he says it tells you he’s been replaying it in his head ever since he walked back outside.
you reach up and touch his cheek gently, your thumb brushing across his skin in a slow, soothing motion. "michael… i’m okay", you say softly, your voice steady and calm, "i wasn’t interested in anything they were doing". he closes his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch like he needs it, his breath leaving him in a slow exhale that sounds like he’s been holding it in for too long. when he opens his eyes again, they’re softer but still full of emotion, and he shakes his head slightly as he whispers "they shouldn’t have been that close to you… not when you’re with me".
you step closer, your hands sliding up his arms until they rest gently on his shoulders, grounding him. "look at me", you say quietly, "i'm here with you... and you're the only one i want". the words hit him instantly. his whole body softens, the tension in his shoulders melting as he pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. he smiles shyly.
he holds you like that for a long moment, his arms wrapped around you with a quiet intensity that makes your heart flutter. when he finally pulls back, he cups your face gently in both hands, his thumbs brushing your cheeks in slow, tender strokes. "i love you", he murmurs, his voice soft but full of emotion, "and i don’t ever want you feeling uncomfortable because of them". you place your hands over his, your fingers curling around his wrists as you whisper "i love you too, michael… and i wasn’t uncomfortable because of them".
he lets out a breath that sounds like relief, his shoulders loosening as he pulls you into him again, this time guiding you toward the bed. he sits down first and gently pulls you onto his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist with a quiet desperation that makes your chest warm. he rests his forehead against your shoulder, his voice low and frustrated as he says "i’m still mad at them… they know better", and you can feel the tension in his body as he speaks. you run your fingers slowly along his back, soothing him, and you whisper "michael... i’m right here, and nothing happened to me."
he lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours with a softness that makes your stomach flutter. he cups your cheek again, his touch gentle and warm as he murmurs "you mean everything to me", the words quiet but full of truth. he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there before pulling you closer, his arms tightening around you as he whispers "i’m not letting you go tonight… not after all that".
you giggle softly, his arms wrapping around you with a warmth that feels like home. he shifts you gently, guiding you down onto the bed with him, but he never loosens his hold, keeping you pressed against him as he pulls the blankets over both of you. the room is dim now, the only light coming from the soft glow of the lamp, and the quiet hum of the house fades into the background as michael settles beside you, his body curled around yours protectively.
he tucks his face against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as you turn slightly, his arms tightening around you in a slow, steady squeeze. he presses one last gentle kiss to your temple, his voice barely above a whisper as he murmurs "i love you, baby… so much", and you whisper it back, your words melting into the quiet of the room. and for the rest of the night, he holds you close, his jealousy fading into warmth, his anger fading into softness, his arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let you go.
(18+, pwp, dangerous era) 𓈒 ݁ ݂ husband!michael who loves to take you outside at neverland, setting up a cute and innocent picnic on the dewy grass just for the two of you. the night sky full of bright and glimmering stars, the both of you laying down with your fingers interlocked. but little did either of you know just how much innocent romance could spiral into a sensual situation. it was like you had blinked, and suddenly michael was on top of you, lips roaming your body.
"didn't know the stars could be such a good aphrodisiac." michael murmured between kisses. "then again, i do have the privilege of getting to be alone with the most gorgeous girl in the world.. which turns me on itself." he smiled against your skin saying those last few words, the two of you giggling in unison.
"i love you, michael." you carried his face to match in position with yours, kissing him before he could even let out a single word. michael pulled away almost instantly, leaving you with a large frown plastered on your face.
"ah ah ah, pretty. didn't even let me reply now, did we?" he leaned in a bit closer, his hot breath sliding against your lips and nostrils. "i love you more, baby," he leaned even closer, your lips practically inches away from touching. "need my girl to know how much i love her, yeah? let me treat you right, gorgeous."
and he sure kept his goddamn word. he slowly pulled down both of your bottoms—not fully off, but just enough room so he could work his magic. your jean shorts lay on your ankles, as did the slacks he decided to wear. you both pulled out the "essentials" and stared longingly into each other's eyes.
"you make me the happiest man on the planet, d'ya know that?" he cleared his throat, "if i could make love to you everyday, i would. i'd take my sweet time with you each and every time, god."
you swallowed hard, bracing yourself for what was yet to come. michael placed one more elongated kiss on your lips, breaking apart to smile at you. he looked down, positioning himself right along your slick folds.
he looked back up at your gorgeous face, watching your expression as he slowly slid himself into you, deliciously filling up your walls. your sweet smile turning into furrowed brows and a whining mouth. he loved hearing your sounds, never kissing your mouth during sex, oh no. he loved to kiss other areas such as your neck, your cheek—sometimes he would even bring up your wrist just so he could leave a nice smooch.
he held a firm grip on your waist, his lips laying on your temple as he passionately and precisely pumped in and out of you. your arms wrapped around his slim back, the fabric of his shirt feeling extra soft against your fingertips. your eyes had no area of michael to look at, so your gaze fixated on the view you two shared before this moment, the beautiful sky.
"wish we could be like this all the time..shit—your pretty pussy wrapped around me like a glove, like you were curated perfectly just for me, oh god yes." his pace of strokes increasing, sloppily and desperately groaning aloud. "fuuuck.."
your legs spread slightly more open, allowing michael to push himself deeper and further towards your core. he sped up even faster, his low groans turning into needy whines. you weren't much better either, your loud moans and squeals being shoved down michael's ear, fueling him even further to finish quickly.
michael could never last insanely long with you during romantic nights like this, but it wasn't embarrassing or disappointing. he just felt so aroused and insane about your beauty and your body, his body would just give in too fast from the pleasure.
michael's eyes began to water, a normal sign showing he was going to finish off soon. he lifted his head to stare at you once more, your pussy becoming a nervous and sensitive mess as he sped up for the last time.
"so gorgeous, so pretty. 'gonna make you a mommy one day, a stunning mommy.." he whined, his voice cracking slightly.
tears streamed down his cheeks as he pumped his cock a final time inside your pussy, coating your walls with his warm release. you came as well, your bodies almost intertwining spiritually with the mutual finish.
michael wiped his tears, kissing your lips while he pulled out slowly, your hips jerking from the sensitivity.
"you make me complete." he smiled with wet eyes, staring at your fucked-out body and expression. "i love being your husband."
god this was wayyy longer than i expected.. and sorry if it seems a bit rushed, i was trying my best to get this gem out immediately >< again, sorry for making it a bit rushed but i hope you guys enjoy! also this isn't proofread 😣
went back to work today and annoyed all my coworkers with dances and stims of Michael along with blasting out all the songs (they love me and joined in)
I have to cope somehow without looking at my shrine 24/7
