⎯⎯ ゛⊹ mean!michael jackson 𝑥 𝑓 black woc!reader ╱ mdni. you are beyond spoiled, bratty, and entitled. lowkey giving michael and his sugar baby. age gap. michael acknowledges his age. brat tamer?michael idk. michael grabs your jaw out of authority. both reader and michael refer to him as daddy (pls don't through rocks at me). no real smut but at the end michael makes you hump his shoe as punishment.
michael is a patient man, an extremely patient one at that. withstanding more than the normal person from years of deliberate work into maintaining appearances. but he knew from the moment i saw you that you'd put him through the ringer. all pout and entitlement paired with big eyes and long lashes that you only have to bat a few times to get michael wrapped further around your finger like a snug ring.
you tested him like no other and pushed your luck far too many times that caused him to a nearly snap. and tonight? oh, tonight was a complete disaster. the two of you showed up late with clear tension, your hands that are usually photograph all snug under michael's side beneath his suit jacket are snug in your crossed arms, a clear rebellion on your part to show everyone that you are not happy to be here right now. while michael has a tight grip on your waist, partially so he can guide you around the event and partially so he can pinch at your waist to remind you to 'wipe that look of your face'. the photographers couldn't even get a proper photo of the couple because you just kept moving your face, using your hair to shield it from the clicks and lights from the camera. even ducking your head into the crook of michael's neck before you full maneuver your body so the photographers are only catching your backside in the photos, which only entices a stoic "behave" from him.
this behavior only carried on throughout the night. huffing and rolling your eyes at conversation, being disengaged and downright disrespectful michael thinks when you continuously cut him off. during a moment alone michael attempts to get you in check again, "you're acting like a child."
his only hope was that you'd realize this little act that you're putting is not to be tolerated, but all he got was a blank stare, "okay, and?" you replied with clear annoyance. the start of you walking away before michael's hold on your waist brings you back into his chest.
"wanna be a disrespectful brat? then i'll treat you like one." all of his patience gone and all of his pent up nerves balled up in the word brat.
and so the two of you left the event, the limo still parked from when you two were dropped because he had requested his driver stay for the duration of the event, already know that you would've pushed him too far to even stay for the entire time. but don't mistake michael, you're still his girl and he's still a gentleman that still opens the door for your and guides you into the backseat of the limo.
what caused you might ask? your dress . . . no serious your dress. makeup had gotten on your dress which caused a domino effect of distress, cries, and into a full blown tantrum from you. not even the large soothing hand of michael's hand rubbing down and up again of the length of your back could cause you to calm down. in fact his reassuring words of how you have a back up dress made it worse. because although you thankfully brought one, you didn't want to wear it, so of course through sobs you spoke incoherently about how you don't want to wear the backup dress, how it's a backup dress for speaking out loud, it's meant to stay as a backup not become the dress. into you babbling about how it's not the vision, how you and michael are no longer going to match and that's your guy's signature.
it got to a point where michael tried. but every time he tried to comfort you a stream of tears only came. so when he look at his watch and saw that there was an hour till the event he ran a hand over his face, "gonna be breathtaking no matter what dress you're wearing," he enthuses, he knows the words are true, but he also knows how you take the material stuff more serious than him. placing a kiss to your temple and walking out of the room, signaling to the crew of people who were getting you ready who were banished by you when the makeup got on your dress to continue their work.
"y'know how much i hate being late." it's the first thing spoken between the two of you since the silent car ride and elevator up to the hotel room. and the comment makes you roll your eyes, something you know you could only be doing because michael unlocked and let you into the room first.
"but my-"
"your dress," michael cuts you off, perfectly in sync with when he turned the lock to the door, "i know all 'bout it, honey."
that, is what ticked you off, his condescending tone. "okay, well you don't have to use that tone with me." stilling in your tacks and turning around just for michael to be right there, taking a small step back.
michael chuckles, darkly, but nonetheless the first real chuckle of the night and it makes your stomach flip because you know it's at you. and you're expecting something from him, a fire back, but he does the worse thing he can do. walk right past you.
gaining your senses and hurriedly following behind him into the bedroom of the hotel and plopping yourself down on the bed, because what he's not going to do is make you look dumb for standing in the hallway all alone.
when you lean down to start undoing the straps of your heels you catch sight of michael undoing his tie with ease with on hand, not only working you up but making you further pissed. "it's not just a dress," said with all pout, the only way you're able to press this argument more is by concentrating on getting your heels off. sitting up and sighing with relief when you kick them off.
"then wha' is it then?" michael asks, stalking towards where you sit at the edge of the bed.
you're eyes shift around the room. you're really grabbing at straws right now. because it is just a dress, you know that, but it's all of the things that unfolded that caused the night to turn out drastically different than you thought it would (albeit to your doing). but all you can think about rather than being rational and sharing this with michael is being the one who wins this argument, if it even is one.
"it's you being inconsiderate."
you royally fucked up. and you know you did from the moment the first word rolled off your tongue, which is exactly why you turned you head to stare out the large hotel window and not into michael's face when you label him as inconsiderate when you know he is the one person farthest from the word.
michael's jaw clenches when that word comes from your lips. your very pretty lips that shine in the dim light of the room from your lip gloss, your very pretty lips that look extra pretty when they're apart as you moan out for him, and look even prettier when they're wrapped around his length to keep you from saying such disrespectful things.
"look at me." it's said with weight, with authority as his voice drops deeper. but you're unmoving. "don' make me have to repeat myself." a shiver runs through your spine, the only movement you made was not to turn and look at him but was to sit up straighter. feeling pathetic that michael compels you this deeply.
a beat of silence follows, and it isn't until your name is said in michael's voice that snaps your head into where he looms right in front of you. because he never says your name. you're baby, or honey, or sweetheart, or princess, or mama. you can really list off all of the nicknames michael uses for you before he ever uses your name to refer to you, not even when he's talking about you to other people does he say your name.
"all it took t'make you listen," he rumbles. still not satisfied that instead of you looking him in the face, your eyes are trained on his abdomen. taking matters into his own hands by grabbing at your jaw with his large hand, fingers pressing into the softness of your cheeks. tipping your head upward so you have other choice but to look him in the face, and michael can't even lie. it takes strength to discipline you, especially when you're staring up at him with your eyes already glazed over.
"when i ask you t'look at me you what?" quizzing you by quirking his eyebrow, expecting you to answer back and pleased when you do.
"look at you." you manage to mutter past michael squishing your cheeks.
michael nods at your words for once, "now tell me wha' makes me so inconsiderate?" except this time he releases your jaw to allow you to properly answer his question, allowing his hand fall down the column of your neck and settle across the base of it just above your clavicle.
you know he's humoring you, but you still answer, just not the way he wanted. "'cus my dress got ruined," pausing to swallow the lump in your throat, you know you're at the point of no return, feeling further on edge at the gentleness at which michael's thumb soothes at the side of your neck, "you saw how upset i was, so we should've just not gone."
michael is surprising calm in this moment, his movements stilled as her glances down at you past his heavy lids. "do i not do enough for you?"
the question is not what you expect, "that's not-"
but just like before, the hand that michael kept in safe distance at the base of your neck raises once more to cup your jaw again. "it's exactly that. 'ave you gone so rotten that y'think i'll no show an event jus' 'cus a dress bought with my money got ruined?" michael proses with restraint that only causes his tone to fall scarily flat.
and for the first time in the night you're left speechless. completely at michael's mercy, much like a lamb caught in the canines of a wolf's. it's the small tap of michael's index and middle finger against your cheek that grounds you, "it was a question, sweetheart."
the use of a nickname causes your eyes to turn from glazed to full blown glassy, tears beginning to swell in your waterline. your mouth opening then closing, because there is nothing, absolutely nothing that you can say to pull yourself out of this. "i-" you start, squirming underneath michael's hard gaze, you don't think there's anything that could pull his attention away from you right now, and you usually relish in that, but now all you want to do is shield yourself from it, "i don't know," is all you can muster out, feeling defeated.
michael's jaw clenches then unclenches, and you swear some of the hardness in his eyes soften over. "think y'jus' love bein' difficult." the hand clasped around you jaw squeezes, your cheeks squishing and lips pouting. "both know i'll give y'the world if y'asked. 'nd we both know i'll buy the entire stock of that damn dress if it made y'happy," he acknowledges, lowering himself down to your eye level, your jaw still in hand, "'m getting old, 'nd my tolerance for this behavior is thinning. so fix it, yeah?"
nodding your head the best you can, "yes, daddy," it comes out meek, but it causes michael to grin from ear to ear. pressing a pack to your pouted mouth before releasing your jaw, standing straight and walking himself over to the armchair in the corner of the hotel bedroom.
when he sits down in the seat he groans, throwing his head back and rolling his neck, letting his eyes fall shut for just a moment. "now c'mere and hump daddy's shoe," said with authority, as the hand that was around your jaw becks you over to him.
rubbing your thighs together and heart pounding into your ears as your eyes trail down the length of michael's relaxed body in the armchair to his sleek black dress shoe, "'nd no touching, so arms behind your back, baby."
warnings. 18+ mdni. just to preface i made it clear that michael did not know reader when she was a child, she was of age when they met and it's open to interpretation to who your father is, but just know he's famous ofc. invincible!michael. michael is perverted old man. age gap. reader is lowkey bratty. shitty hollywood boyfriend. cunnilingus. fingering. penetration. praising. a hint of mean!michael and cocky!michael.
note. thank you nonny for this filthy ask because it fueled this post... so keep them coming!
dbf!michael who met your father late in his career, like i'm talking around or just before invincible and they just instantly clicked. so when your father invites him over for dinner for the first time he of course can't deny.
dbf!michael who thinks that you were a pretty gift sent just from him when he comes over for dinner, still standing in the foyer when you come easily skipping down the stairs, the setting sun creating a hazy glow around you from the bay windows.
dbf!michael who keeps entertaining your conversations during dinner. wanting to hear anything from the the small acting gigs you've been trying to land since it's been something you've been passionate about pursuing for years but never doing until recently since your parents wanted you to get through school first. to you rambling on about the college courses you're taking at the moment, giggling when michael calls you a 'busy bee' for staying in school while pursuing acting. maybe he even engaged too far into you passion by making a promise that you could be an extra in one of his music videos, except he has i'll thoughts of wanting you to be the women protagonist and not just an extra.
dbf!michael always reminding you to drop the formalities. that there's no need for mr. jackson or sir because he's just michael. even though you continue to accidentally slip up here and there to see how his eyes darken just a bit and have to readjust himself a few moments later.
dbf!michael quickly becoming someone who you confide in whenever your parents make you upset because although he's friends with your dad, he's still older than both of your parents so you begin seek his approval more than theirs. being extra when you're telling michael about what they did this time to make you so upset by huffing, puffing, and whining into the phone. pressing your thighs together when michael says, "now is that really necessary, honey? hm?" on the other side of the phone.
along with that, dbf!michael being careful when you confide in him. because one wrong thing said that has you thinking he's siding with your parents has you hanging up the phone quickly without a goodbye, leaving michael to just shake his head and murmur out, "brat". but it's all in your best interest he tells you a few days later, the want, the need for you to remain safe and happy at all time. telling himself he only thinks this way because he's a father himself.
dbf!michael who is beyond fond of indulging in praising you. any little thing you do gets an enthusiastic, "that's great" "good job, applehead" "'m proud of you" because he relishes in the way you squirm when he does so.
dbf!michael who happened to spend a bit too long at your house one night with you dad that he was still there by the time you were doing your rounds of saying goodnight, just in time before your father saw him out the door. tipping his head down to peer past his glasses as you stand on your tippy toes to give your dad a hug and kiss on the cheek, body adorn in a silky matching pajama set. only you do the same with him, throwing your arms around his neck with such haste that he has no other option but for his large hands to wrap around your waist. taken a bake by the kiss laid near the corner of his lip and the whisper of, "goodnight, michael" against his ear.
dfb!michael disapproving of you being seen out with a sleazy hollywood actor, so much so that distance is created between the two of you after you told him off about not being your father for him to disapprove of who you're dating. the jealousy seething through him when he comes over, trying to make a beeline to your father's study, but of course you have to be in the living room with your legs thrown over your boyfriend's lap while the two of you makeout while a random movie plays on the tv. and of course he's still there by the time he leaves, rolling his eyes when your boyfriend says, "holy shit, michael jackson is in your house, babe!".
and it really wasn't a shocker to dbf!michael when the news broke that the two of you had broken up. because he called it and he tried telling you he knows exactly what kind of man he was just to be shut up by your smart mouth, "and what kind of man are you?". what he didn't expect was for you to call him, still expecting the tension to be there after your guy's argument. met with a sniffles and a few small hiccups of you begging him to come over, "please? i don' wan' no one else but you."
it takes a special kind of man to deny you of what you want. so after a short silence from michael who's pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing through his nose to keep his composure, because he can't just can't be that man, "i'm on my way. gonna take good care of you."
dbf!michael who know that this is wrong. for him to bend so easy at your beck and call. he knows how wrong this can look for him, a perverted old man and his friends daughter. but he tried for so long to not act out on it just for you to call him all needy babbling about how you need him and only him.
so when he makes it to your house, you're already standing outside, dressed in a short night slip that blows in the night breeze. meeting him halfway down the steps to throw yourself at him, familiar arms wrapping around his neck, but this time he allows his arms to fully embrace your waist, pushing your body flush against his.
"you have t' say it. i have to hear it from your lips," he says when your arms loosen enough for him to pull back and look you in your eyes. just to be met with the hazy glassiness of them, a hand coming up for his thumb to press and pull down gently at your bottom lip.
"i need you, michael."
dbf!michael who follows you up the stairs to your room, the perfect peak of your panties underneath your night slip. biting his lips lips because he knows you did it on purpose, you always do.
dbf!michael who closes your bedroom door with a soft click and you're met with the dark gaze of his when you turn around. still being close enough that all he has to do is just a stride forward for him to take you in his arms once again and kiss you with such urgency that you can't stifle back the whimper and the way your knees buckles. michael's tight grip on your hips keeping you upward, taking it upon him set to press your hips against his to feel his bulge to your pelvis.
dbf!michael who shows you the kind of man he his when he's on his knees and your ass is perched on the edge of your bed. head thrown back in pleasure as your back arches off the bed while you use your arm to muffled your moans. michael watches intently, his gripping tightly into the plush of your thighs to keep your bottom half still enough while your upper half moves wildly. sucking at your puffy clit as a hand trails from your thigh, a finger circling your entrance before sinking into the warm heat. enticing a moan from you and hums from michael, who's still attached to your bud. a finger becomes two, and quickly enough your arch is frozen, eyes squeezed tightly shut and mouth agape, but nothing comes out, just the pulse and clench of your entrance around michael's fingers as you come.
dbf!michael doing his diligence by putting you to bed when he placed your head gently against your pillows, the soft reassurance of "i know, baby" "know it's big, but you can take it, yeah?" "jus' tell me if it's too much, promise" now behind the both of you as michael fucks you into your mattress. sweetly pressing kisses at the tears fallen from the pleasure, whispering out "told ya' i was gonna take care of you" "let it out, i'm here now". to the stark contrast of his cooing at you mockingly when you're once again looking at him that hazy look, "feel too good, huh?" "bet he never made you feel like this. i know he didn't, he's just a scumbag who only cares about his own pleasure" "is it too much? thought you wanted it?"
dbf!michael who whispers sweet nothings to you for the rest of the night, even when you're fast asleep until he has to leave just before the early sunrise. but not before he rummages to find one of your pink notepads, the ones with the little characters on them and one of your glittery pens to write a note for you left on your bedside table and a gentle kiss landed on your table.
⊱ thrad!michael x f!reader ◞ michael surprises you with a unexpected, special proposal
⊱ major fluff, marriage, proposal, sweet, words of affirmation, praise, michael surprising reader
The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a warm, golden glow across the bedroom. You stirred slightly, stretching against the soft sheets, before the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm vanilla drifted past your nose.
Opening your eyes, you found Michael already sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a beautifully arranged tray. His dark curls falling loosely around his face, and that familiar, soft smile that always made your heart skip a beat.
"Good morning, beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and raspy from sleep.
"Michael," you murmured, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. "What is all this?"
On the tray sat a plate of golden-brown French toast dusted with powdered sugar, a bowl of fresh berries, a glass of orange juice, and a single, perfect pink rose in a crystal vase.
"Just a little something to start the day right," he said, leaning forward to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. "We’ve both been so busy lately, and I wanted to make today special for you. Eat up, because you have a busy schedule ahead."
You laughed, taking a sip of the coffee. "A busy schedule? What are you planning, michael?"
"It's a surprise," he replied with a mischievous glint in his eye, tapping the tip of your nose. "Just promise me you'll enjoy it."
True to his word, Michael had the entire morning meticulously planned out. Shortly after breakfast, a driver arrived to take you to your favorite boutique salon in the city. When you walked in, the staff greeted you by name, immediately escorting you to a private room.
"Mr. Jackson called ahead," the manicurist told you with a smile. "He picked out a few colors he thought you'd like, but of course, the choice is entirely yours."
You spent the next two hours being completely pampered—a luxurious manicure and pedicure, followed by a professional styling session for your hair. Every detail felt deliberate, designed to make you feel like royalty.
When you returned home, you found a large, elegant box sitting on the bed. Tied with a satin ribbon, a small note rested on top in Michael's neat, looping handwriting
Wear this for me tonight. A car will pick you up at 4:00 PM. I can't wait to see you.
All my love, Michael.
With racing pulses, you untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside lay a breathtaking, flowing dress in your favorite color, made of soft silk that felt like water against your skin. Paired with it were a set of delicate, understated jewelry pieces that perfectly complemented the gown.
You changed quickly, looking at yourself in the full-length mirror. The dress fit flawlessly, hugging you in all the right places before cascading down to the floor. Right on time, a soft knock on the front door signaled that your driver had arrived.
The drive took you away from the bustling city streets, winding down quiet, tree-lined roads until the car finally pulled up to a massive stone archway. The driver opened the door for you, gesturing toward a cobblestone path that led into a dense, beautifully manicured estate garden.
"He's waiting for you at the end of the path, miss," the driver said warmly.
Taking a deep breath, you stepped onto the stones. The air was thick with the scent of blooming jasmine, lavender, and roses. As you walked further down the winding path, you noticed small, delicate details hanging from the branches of the willow trees.
Strung on thin, invisible wires were Polaroid photographs.
You stopped, reaching out to touch the first one. It was a candid photo from three years ago—you and Michael sitting on a blanket in a park, laughing hysterically at an inside joke, his camera catching the exact moment of pure happiness.
A few steps further, another photograph caught your eye. This one was from a quiet rainy evening at home, where he had caught you fast asleep on his shoulder while a movie played in the background.
Every few yards, another memory hung in the air
A snapshot of your first vacation together by the ocean.
A goofy selfie of the two of you covered in flour after an attempt at baking.
A quiet, tender moment backstage at one of his shows, where he was holding your hand just before stepping into the spotlight.
Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you walked through the living timeline of your relationship. Michael had kept all of these moments, preserving them like treasure. Each photograph was a testament to the years of love, growth, and unwavering support you had shared.
The path opened up into a breathtaking, secluded clearing.
The centerpiece of the clearing was a massive, ancient oak tree, its branches completely draped in thousands of tiny, twinkling fairy lights that cast a soft, ethereal glow over the entire space.
Elegant floral arrangements of white hydrangeas and pastel roses surrounded the perimeter, and soft, acoustic violin music drifted faintly from hidden speakers.
Standing right beneath the canopy of lights was Michael.
He had traded his casual white dress shirt for a sharp, tailored black suit that made him look incredibly handsome. His curls were neatly styled, but his expression was completely soft, his eyes locked onto you from the moment you stepped into the clearing.
As you walked toward him, he held out his hands, taking yours the moment you were close enough. His hands were warm, trembling just a fraction.
"You look absolutely breathtaking," he whispered, his eyes scanning your face, filled with an intensity that made your heart race. "The dress looks even more beautiful on you than I imagined."
"Michael, all of this... the photos, the garden... it's incredible," you breathed, looking around. "What is all this for?"
He took a deep, steadying breath, squeezing your hands gently.
"I wanted to bring you somewhere where we could step away from the rest of the world," Michael began, his voice rich with emotion. "Just you and me. Looking back at those photos on the way in... it reminded me of how much we've built together.
Through every high and every low, you've been my rock. You love me for exactly who I am, without any expectations, and you've given me a peace I never thought I'd find."
He stepped closer, closing the small distance between you.
"Every day with you feels like a gift. You bring so much light into my life, and I can't even begin to fathom a future where you aren't by my side. I want to protect you, cherish you, and make you happy for the rest of my days."
Before you could speak, Michael slowly dropped down to one knee on the velvet grass. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, black velvet box. Opening it, a stunning, brilliant-cut diamond ring caught the light of the fairy lamps, sparkling brilliantly.
Your breath hitched, a hand flying to your mouth as tears finally spilled over your eyelashes.
"You are my heart, my soul, my entire world," Michael said, looking up at you with pure, unfiltered devotion in his eyes. "Will you do me the greatest honor of my life? Will you marry me?"
For a second, the entire universe seemed to hold its breath.
"Yes!" you sobbed happily, nodding your head quickly. "Yes, Michael, absolutely yes!"
A brilliant, radiant smile broke across his face—the happiest, most genuine smile you had ever seen on him. He slid the ring onto your finger before standing up and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist, lifting you slightly off your feet. You clung to his neck, burying your face in his shoulder as he spun you around under the canopy of twinkling lights, both of you laughing through tears of pure joy.
content: 18+, jealous m, dry humping, big d mike, fingering + eating out, taking his first time, aftercare
summary: you and michael are dating, though you've never had the pleasure of having him deep inside you. but that, that changes today. he gets jealous at another man oogling at you and decides it's time to really claim you.
you keep kissing michael while sitting in his lap, his hands resting on your hips, occasionally wandering over your body. his own hips lift subconsciously as you slowly grind against him in nothing but your panties, your clothed pussy rubbing against the firm bulge beneath his underwear.
"god, mikey... so good," you moan between kisses, your fingers gripping the back of his shirt. hearing your sweet voice take on that breathless, needy tone only makes him press his hips into you even more.
dry humping had always been your thing. as much as you wanted more, michael wouldn't let you. his religious beliefs meant waiting until marriage - and you weren't married. not yet.
his hands tighten around your hips as he guides your movements, pulling you down against his still-hidden cock in a moment of shared desperation.
"s'good, mama," he murmurs.
precum had already dampened the tip of his cock, soaking through his boxers. you could feel the thick shape of him clearly beneath you, just as he could feel every fold of your aching pussy through the thin fabric separating you.
the pleasure coils deeper in your core as you rock against his hard length. your pussy clenches around nothing while the steady pressure against your clit sends waves of heat through your body. beneath you, his cock throbs with need, the friction of your slow, soaked movements enough to push him dangerously close.
"baby... g-gonna cum..." he pants between shaky breaths.
you were already close yourself.
"me too, baby..."
neither of you can stop, desperately grinding against each other as you chase the overwhelming pleasure building between you. michael's grip on your hips tightens like a lifeline as he rocks his hips upward, soft whines and breathless whimpers escaping him despite every attempt to hold them back.
then it all hits you at once.
your movements falter as a broken cry slips from your lips, your entire body going rigid before melting against him. the rush of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you trembling in his lap. your fingers instinctively claw at the back of his shirt as you bury your face against his neck, overwhelmed by the intensity.
michael doesn't stop moving immediately, carried forward by his own mounting desperation. his breathing grows uneven, each shallow gasp betraying how close he is.
with one final, needy thrust, he lets out a shaky groan as he reaches his own release.
for a long moment, neither of you moves.
you're both left trembling, trying to steady your breathing as the room falls quiet around you. michael's arms wrap around you, one hand giving your hip a gentle squeeze before drifting lower to your waist.
"you're amazing, ma," he murmurs against your hair, his voice soft with affection.
dry humping and moments like these had become almost routine.
not because either of you had grown tired of them-quite the opposite.
you were completely obsessed with each other, always craving just a little more. wanting to be closer. wanting to give in. it was never quite enough, but you respected michael's boundaries, knowing how important they were to him. he appreciated that more than he could ever put into words.
the next morning, the two of you left the house early to attend an event.
the atmosphere was lively as soon as you arrived, filled with familiar faces and easy conversations. several round tables were arranged throughout the venue, with the guests naturally splitting into men's and women's groups.
you found yourself at one of the women's tables, surrounded by a handful of familiar faces you'd met at previous events. conversation flowed effortlessly, jumping from work to funny stories to shared memories. before long, you were laughing along with everyone else.
meanwhile, michael settled in at one of the men's tables.
it was a fairly small gathering, so nearly everyone already knew each other. they spent the first part of the meal talking about work, upcoming projects, and whatever else happened to come up.
eventually, though, the conversation shifted.
one by one, the men started talking about their girlfriends and wives, each trying to outdo the last with exaggerated praise.
naturally, michael joined in at first, speaking proudly about you.
then the tone changed.
"yeah, my wife's an absolute beast in bed," one of the men said with a laugh, prompting a chorus of similar stories around the table.
michael fell quiet. painfully quiet.
one of the men noticed and smirked. "what, mike?" he teased. "got nothing to brag about?"
michael smiled politely, shaking his head. "no, i do," he replied. "i just... don't think it's right to talk about her that way."
the table went silent for a beat. "i'm a gentleman," he finished with a small shrug, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
a few of the men chuckled. "come on, mike," another one grinned, nudging him with his elbow. "you can tell us one thing."
michael simply smiled and took a sip of his drink. "i'd rather not."
the same guy leaned back in his chair, wearing the kind of cocky grin that always seemed a little too comfortable.
"damn," he laughed. "if you've got nothing to brag about, maybe she just hasn't been treated right."
a few uneasy laughs circled the table.
the man continued before anyone could stop him. "send her my way. i'll show her what she's been missing." he chuckled, "i mean, do you know even know how to handle all of that?" his tone made it sound like a joke.
michael didn't laugh. his smile disappeared almost instantly. his jaw tightened so subtly most of the table missed it, but the way his fingers curled around his glass told a different story. the muscles in his neck tensed as he stared at the man for a long second.
"i don't find jokes about my fiancée funny," michael said evenly.
the room quieted.
the man lifted his hands with another laugh. "relax, man. i'm kidding," he chuckles, lifting his glass of wine to his lips. "she is hot, though."
a few of the men laugh.
"yeah, she is," michael replies without missing a beat. "good thing she's mine." his voice is calm, but completely serious.
the message is clear enough that the man simply nods, chuckles awkwardly, and lets the topic die. before long, the conversation drifts to something else.
eventually, everyone gets up, free to mingle around the venue. it doesn't take long before you and michael find each other again, his hand instinctively settling around your waist. his grip is gentle, but undeniably possessive.
you looked stunning tonight. your silky dress hugged your figure perfectly, the high slit revealing just enough to turn heads without trying.
soon enough, the two of you find yourselves chatting with another small group of guests, everyone once again standing beside their partners. including the same man from earlier.
michael's hand tightens around your waist ever so slightly. the conversation carries on until the man glances your way.
"lookin' great today, y/n" he says with a playful wink.
"oh, thank you—"
"you know," he interrupts with a grin, "my wife and i are open. just sayin'."
the group bursts into laughter.
michael doesn't.
"you're real funny, aren't you?" he says, his tone even enough that no one can quite tell whether he's joking.
an awkward silence follows before someone quickly changes the subject. a few minutes later, michael quietly leans toward you.
"we need to go."
you blink.
"what? everything okay, mikey?" you ask softly, noticing how unusually quiet he'd become.
"we need to go home. now." there's no anger in his voice. just certainty.
he gently takes your hand and leads you toward the exit, walking so quickly you almost have to hurry to keep pace.
outside, he opens the car door for you. "mikey..." you say, stopping before getting in. "what's wrong?"
his jaw tenses. "just... get in."
confused but trusting him, you quietly do as he asks. the ride home is painfully silent. michael spends the entire drive staring out the window, his hand resting against his thigh while his thoughts seem miles away. you don't press him.
when you finally arrive home, the two of you head straight upstairs. the bedroom door barely clicks shut before michael turns toward you.
his hands gently cup your face as he kisses you with an urgency that catches you completely off guard. your palms instinctively press against his chest. you pull back just enough to catch your breath.
"michael... what's going on?" you ask, your voice soft with concern.
he's breathing just as heavily. "you are mine... right?" the vulnerability in his voice surprises you.
"what?" you whisper. "yes. of course i'm yours, michael."
his shoulders loosen with visible relief. "he thought..." michael murmurs, shaking his head. "he thought he could have you."
he steps closer again, one hand lingering along your jaw, his thumb gently brushing your cheek.
"i know he was joking," he admits quietly. "but i hated hearing it." his forehead rests against yours. "i just needed to hear you say it."
you smile softly, your hands finding his. "you'll never have to wonder."
his eyes close for a moment before he lets out a slow breath, the tension finally beginning to leave him. "please, just..." he whispers, his lips barely grazing yours. "let me claim you." he whispers softly while looking down at your lips. "wha-" his lips pressed into yours before you could answer. this time, the kiss is nothing like the first one. this kiss is slow. deep.
every lingering second carries the weight of everything he struggles to put into words - his devotion, his protectiveness, and the quiet certainty that, despite his composure, he loved you more fiercely than anyone in the room could ever understand.
the kiss leaves you momentarily dazed, every movement filled with passion and quiet possessiveness. it feels less like desperation now and more like reassurance.
when he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. "please... say you love me," he pleads softly.
"i love you, michael."
a small smile tugs at his lips before he gently guides you backward onto the bed. hovering above you, he presses soft kisses along your neck. "i love you," he murmurs against your skin, his voice barely above a whisper.
carefully, he slips your dress from your shoulders, leaving you in your underwear. your heart pounds against your ribs, uncertainty and anticipation mingling together. you aren't quite sure what he's planning. part of you expects he'll touch you the way he has on the rare occasions before - fingering you or eating you out into oblivion. always careful, always restrained. those moments had become precious to you, the closest the two of you ever allowed yourselves to get while still honoring the boundaries he'd promised to keep.
he keeps kissing your neck as he carefully removes your bra. "you're so beautiful," he murmurs, his mouth latching onto one of your puffy nipples while his other hand gently pinches the other. soft moans slip from your lips. "mm... i love that voice."
he gives your nipple another slow agonizing lick before moving lower, pressing kisses down your stomach until he reaches your panties. his fingers curl around the straps, tugging them ever so slightly.
"i want to eat you all up. that okay, ma?" he looks up at you, waiting for your answer, and you nod.
slowly, he slides your panties down your legs before gently spreading them apart, his hands resting on your thighs. his face lowers between your legs.
he presses a small kiss against your clit before glancing back up at you to watch your reaction. your brows are drawn together, your cheeks flushed, your eyes already hazy with anticipation.
his gaze falls back to your drenched pussy. "so wet f'me, baby."
he places a few more gentle kisses against your clit, his middle finger teasing at your entrance. he applies a little more pressure each time, slowly working his finger forward until it finally slips inside, drawing a gasp from your lips.
he eases the rest of his long finger into you at an unhurried pace, reaching deeper than you ever could on your own.
your pussy absolutely sucks his finger in, refusing to let go. his finger curls inside you as he starts hitting your g-spot over and over again, applying just the right amount of pressure while his tongue moves all over your clit. it doesn't take long before your hands find his hair, tangling in the soft strands as the overwhelming pleasure continues to build.
"mikey..." you moan, saying his name again and again as you edge dangerously close.
michael can feel it too. your soft walls clenching around his finger, throbbing with every stroke as your hips begin moving on their own.
that's when he suddenly pulls his finger away and stops licking you.
"no... why'd you stop?" you whine, your hips stuttering as they instinctively chase his touch.
without answering right away, he begins unbuckling his belt. "i want you to cum on my dick tonight," he says quietly.
"what? but didn't you say you wanted to wai—"
he cuts you off. "forget what I said. I need to claim you. now."
he slips off his pants before looking back at you. "would you let me do that?" he waits patiently for your permission.
"oh god, yes. it's all i've ever wanted. but... are you sure?" you ask softly.
he moves closer to you, his thick cock hanging heavily above your needy pussy. "i've never been more sure in my life."
he wraps his hand around himself, slowly sliding the broad tip up and down your desperate pussy. his tip comes to a stop at your entrance, lightly pressing against you.
"mike... are you sure you won't regret this after?" you ask softly, despite how desperately you want him right now. this is the closest you've ever been to finally having his thick cock inside you.
"i want to do this," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "i need to do this." he applies a little more pressure, the tip threatening to slip inside.
"i've been holding myself back for so long. and so have you, just for me. it's not fair for you."
you feel him trying to push his way through, though it almost felt impossible. "mike, i don't think it's gonna fi-" he ignores your protest as the head of his cock finally eases in just slightly, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.
"fuck, mike... it's so—"
he was huge. the stretch was intense, almost painful, as your body struggled to adjust to his size.
"but for what?" he asks quietly, his forehead nearly resting against yours. "what's so wrong with me wanting to make love to you?"
he slowly pushes the tip in a little farther. your body does its best to accommodate him, the unfamiliar fullness sending a bittersweet mix of pleasure and discomfort through you. his own breathing grows unsteady as he feels you slowly taking him in.
"shit..." he murmurs under his breath. "is this okay?" he asks immediately, searching your face. "does it hurt?"
every muscle in his body is tense, desperately holding himself back from just shoving his entire cock deep inside your tight pussy. even now, with every ounce of restraint slipping away, he's still more concerned about you than himself.
"it's okay..." you breathe, your voice trembling. "it feels so good, michael..."
he lets out a shaky exhale as his hands tighten around your hips, the pressure of his grip betraying just how much self-control he's forcing himself to maintain despite the gentleness of every movement.
"i'm gonna go deeper," he lets you know in advance, giving you time to prepare.
his cock slowly sinks farther inside you, your walls clenching tightly around him as your body struggles to accommodate something this big. your eyes squeeze shut, your lips parting as you try to take in every overwhelming sensation.
"is it all in yet?" you ask in a shaky voice.
"just halfway," he answers, his own voice just as unsteady.
you let out a trembling breath. it already feels impossibly deep, and you can't imagine how much more there is. you'd definitely underestimated just how big he was.
noticing the flicker of panic on your face, he gently cups your cheek. he stops moving altogether, giving you time to adjust. "if it's too much, you just tell me," he says softly. "we can stop at any moment, my love." he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek.
"no... it's fine. it's just..." you swallow the knot in your throat. "it's really big." your voice cracks ever so slightly.
you feel him twitch inside you at your words. "is it?" he asks, a quiet whimper escaping him as your warm walls squeeze around his cock. "is that a good thing?" his eyes are heavy with pleasure as he searches your face.
"yes... it's so, so good, michael," you moan.
he bites down on his lower lip, and before he realizes it, his hips drift forward on instinct, pushing a little deeper.
a sharp moan escapes your lips.
"oh—'m sorry," he says immediately. "i didn't mean to—"
you cut him off. "just keep going," you whisper. "please."
he doesn't hesitate. slowly at first, then with growing confidence, he pushes deeper until he's fully buried inside you. the feeling leaves you breathless, your body trembling as every inch of him settles into place. you feel completely full, every subtle throb of his cock unmistakable inside you.
"god... you feel so good," he almost whispers.
your eyes flutter shut, the fullness overwhelming in the best possible way. it feels like finally scratching an itch that's been bothering you forever as his fat tip kisses your womb.
"are you okay, baby?" he asks, noticing the dazed expression on your face.
"mhm," you manage to answer, still adjusting to the feeling of him being inside you.
"is it okay if I move?" he whispers against your ear, the desperation in his voice impossible to miss.
"please do," you breathe, your voice trembling.
he slowly draws himself back until only the tip remains before thrusting forward again in one smooth motion. your body jolts beneath him as a loud moan spills from your lips. it felt so incredibly good.
michael lets out a breathless whimper at the unfamiliar sensation. unable to hold himself back, he thrusts into you again. and again. slowly, he falls into a steady rhythm.
"fuck... mikey..." you moan loudly.
he doesn't slow down. he doesn't stay as gentle as he'd promised himself he would. his mind is clouded, every coherent thought replaced by the overwhelming need to chase this intoxicating new feeling.
with every deep thrust, you find yourself getting closer and closer, his thick cock pushing you toward the edge.
"i'm gonna cum, mikey–" you moan, your voice trembling.
"please... cum f'me, baby," he pleads softly, sounding as though he needs it just as badly as you do. it doesn't take long before your body finally gives in.
the orgasm crashes over you harder than anything you've ever experienced, your legs trembling uncontrollably, your walls clench tightly around him as wave after wave of pleasure rushes through you. a broken moan spills from your lips, your whole body shaking beneath him.
but michael doesn't stop. not even for a moment.
your thighs instinctively try to close around him as the overwhelming sensitivity begins to consume you. "wait... michael, i—" you try to say through watery eyes.
"'m sorry, baby..." he moans breathlessly. "can't stop."
he keeps thrusting into you, just fucking you senseless. completely overtaken as he chases his own release. then, with one final, desperate thrust, he buries himself as deep as he can, his body tensing as his orgasm finally overtakes him.
he stays there, clinging to you as he trembles, breathing hard while the intensity slowly begins to fade.
snapping back to reality, he gently cups your cheek. "are you okay, my love?" he asks softly.
"yes, i'm okay," you reply, still a little breathless. "that was so good, michael."
a relieved smile spreads across his face as he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. "i'm sorry for being so rough," he murmurs. "i didn't mean to... i just... couldn't control myself." his voice is filled with genuine remorse.
"it's okay, mikey," you reassure him, gently caressing his cheek. "you did so great."
he leans into your touch, smiling softly. "is your body okay?" he asks, placing another gentle kiss against your lips. "does anything hurt?"
"mm... a little," you admit with a small smile, "but i'll be okay."
michael stayed where he was for a long moment, his forehead resting against yours as the room settled into silence. the only sound between you was the slow effort of catching your breath.
his thumb gently brushed your cheek, searching your face with worried eyes. "are you sure you're alright?" he asked again, as if he needed the reassurance more than you did.
you smiled softly, your hand finding his. "i'm sure."
the tension in his shoulders finally eased. he let out a quiet laugh, embarrassed by how overwhelmed he'd become. "i don't think i've ever lost control like that before," he admitted, avoiding your eyes. "i kept telling myself i'd be patient... that i'd take my time."
"you were," you said gently. "you kept checking on me the whole time."
"i still should've done better."
"you don't have to be perfect, mikey."
he looked back at you, his expression softening. "you always know what to say."
"i've had practice."
that finally earned a genuine smile from him. he leaned down and kissed your forehead, lingering there for a moment before carefully helping you sit up. he wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, making sure you were warm before disappearing into the bathroom.
when he returned, he was carrying a glass of water. "drink," he said with a small smile.
you accepted it, amused. "yes, sir."
he chuckled under his breath. after you finished, he climbed back into bed beside you, pulling you against his chest. neither of you spoke for a while. there was nothing left to say.
his fingers lazily traced circles along your back.
"i love you," he whispered into your hair.
you tilted your head up to look at him. "i love you too."
for the first time that evening, the worry disappeared from his face entirely. he closed his eyes, holding you a little tighter, grateful that after everything he'd been feeling all day, you were still here in his arms.
Synopsis: Based off of this ask. Mike kept his word with Break of Dawn
Pairing: Mature era Michael Jackson x black fem!reader
Warnings: Smut, smut, smut and more smut. So much smut. So much filth. So much nastiness. Prepare yourself. MDNI I will find you, and when I find you...I will end you.
Drea's Note: Beneath the break lies the nastiest, filthiest, raunchiest thing I have ever adjusted my fingers to type out on a keyboard into a document. I am ashamed of myself for fulfilling this request (a lie) ENJOY. motavaation, motavaetion, motavaetion!!!
Your hands move over Michael’s body, greedy and desperate. He signed at your touch and held the back of your neck as you kissed him. Your tongues dance with each other, tasting and exploring each other’s mouths while you loosen the tie around his neck.
Michael shifted you onto his lap, hands resting on your clothed thighs, before they rubbed gently over them. You managed to get his tie off, slinging it to the ground before your fingers work feverishly to unbutton his shirt.
“Need you so badly, Mike.” You whisper, resting your forehead against his. He chuckles and pecks your lips. He dipped his hands beneath your t-shirt, pressing them flat on your bare back while you continued unbuttoning his shirt. When you fully unbutton it, you run your fingers over his chest, pulling a contented groan from him. Michael tilts your chin down and presses his lips to yours in another sweet kiss.
“Stand up for me,” Michael commands softly, patting your thighs. You comply, standing right between his legs, close enough that he can hook his long fingers on the strap of your leggings, pulling them down along with your cotton panties. You lift your feet to let the fabric pool at your sides while Michael tosses his t-shirt with them.
“Beautiful.” He whispered, guiding you back onto his lap. His fingers find their way between your legs, squeezing the warm skin of your inner thigh before he presses his thumb against your clit. You gasp and giggle excitedly when he pushes his index and middle fingers between your wet pussy lips. Without warning, he slips his index finger into you, then his middle finger, thrusting them into you, lazy and unhurried. Your hips grind on his fingers involuntarily, walls gently pulsating around them while he keeps that slow pace.
“Mike, I’m…” Your heartbeat quickens, and he hums, biting his lower lip with a wicked grin plastered across his face. With a shaky hand, you run your fingers through his hair, semi-focused on his expression as you ride his fingers.
Your inner thighs tingle as a soft orgasm threatens to come over you. Michael doesn’t let up. He curls his fingers just right with every thrust, hitting that perfect spot within you as he tilts his head to watch you fall apart. Soon enough, you cumming on his fingers. Your hand in his hair grips the back of his neck, lower lip between your teeth as you sigh loudly—a pathetic attempt to muffle your moans.
Michael scoffs at your reaction, shaking his head in disapproval. “Tsk, I don’t like that.”
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You lie completely naked on the king-sized bed in the main bedroom, your back against the cool duvet as Michael rids himself of his pants and boxers.
“Gonna make you cum all night, baby,” he teases, gripping the underside of your knees before pulling you to the lowermost end of the bed, “Gonna make love to you, then fuck you, then make love to you over and over again.”
“Fuck—” His words shoot straight to your middle, a hot, fuzzy feeling erupting right below your belly button. The slight friction burn from him yanking you forward goes unnoticed as he kneels between your legs and presses teasing kisses to your inner thigh. Your hips buck, needing more attention right where he’s purposefully ignoring you.
“So needy,” Michael blows on your clit, then kisses your thighs again. “What do you want, ma, hmm?”
“Please?” You whine, attempting to push his head forward.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” Mike resists your push, blowing on your clit again. His cool breath makes your body tingle, nipples hardening in response.
This is torture. He’s so close yet so far. You could easily push yourself forward and connect his lips to your needy centre, but he’d just pull back and leave you begging.
“Tell me,” Mike repeats, squeezing the flesh of your butt with two fingers.
“Eat my pussy, Mikey. Please.” You give in, pressing your head hard against the mattress.
“Good girl.” Michael praises you before diving right in. His tongue flattens over your vulva, then slides upwards before he presses open-mouthed kisses over your clit. He moans like a starved man, sucking and licking your wet skin with lustful eyes focused on your reaction.
Your back arches as he devours you, hands gripping the duvet while you moan uncontrollably. Michael lifts your legs up and places one on each shoulder, giving him more access to your dripping pussy. He circles his tongue over your clit, then slides two fingers into you. Your breath goes frantic when he sucks on your clit and curls his fingers inside of you, causing yet another orgasm.
“Oh my god—Mike!” You finally speak, voice strained and shaky. Your hips rock in tandem with his fingers, a tight knot in your belly so close to unravelling.
“That’s it, sweet thing,” Michael mumbles with his mouth still wrapped around your clit.
You fall apart again, eyes squeezing shut as you moan his name with a cracked voice. Your legs shake and press against Michael’s face, pussy oozing with arousal over his chin. Michael hums against you, lapping his tongue over your juices with a satisfied grin.
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You’re on all fours, face pressed into a soft pillow with your mouth slightly hanging open. Michael’s on his knees behind you. His hands are gripping your hips while he ploughs into you with unimaginable speed, leaving you mumbling sweet nothings, senseless and dumb. His dick, long and thick, stretches you out unapologetically with every sharp snap of his hips.
Michael—ever the tease—strokes the back of your head with a gentle touch, cooing to you in a voice so soothing it leaves your mind numb.
“Such a good girl, hmm? Taking me so fucking well, sweet thing.” He speaks between thrusts, dipping his other hand between your legs to play with your clit. He rubs slow circles on it, a juxtaposition to his feverish thrust. Your mumbles turn into cries of pleasure, eyes watering and dampening the pillow below, while your pussy clenches around Michael.
“Mike—Mike, slow down—shit!” You beg through whimpers, your hands gripping the top of the duvet.
“Are you sure? Ah—” Michael asks mockingly before he moans too.
You shake your head, whining a loud ‘no!’ as another orgasm takes over your body. Your moans are loud, really loud. Michael pulls your head up by the hair when you try to muffle your pleasurable whines in the pillow. You scream his name, pussy gripping his dick so hard he comes undone too. Michael’s seed pours into you, coating your walls with warm arousal as he groans over your back, falling flat on top of you.
You both lie there unmoving, breathing erratically while Michael strokes your head again. He chuckles, and you do the same, knowing damn well what he’s thinking.
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Michael pushes into you again, making you both whine at the contact. You’re on your back again, legs circled around his hips with your hands gripping his biceps as he uses your hips to guide himself in and out of your sensitive pussy. His thrusts are unhurried, rolling his hips with a lazy rhythm. He’s making love to you now, teasing your clit with his thumb while one hand cups your boob. Each push of his hips makes you sigh breathlessly. Your eyes stay closed most of the time, opening them when he almost pulls out completely just to push back in with that leisurely pace.
“So sweet for me,” Michael moans, pinching your nipple, “Wish I could lie in you forever.”
“Michael…” You whimper, raking your finger over his toned back when he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. Michael groans into the kiss, mouth parting to let your tongue slide over his lower lip. You suck on his lip, then bite it before licking to soothe it. To say you’re lost in a sensual haze is an understatement. You’re completely gone. Your eyes are glossy with shiftless tears, hands gripping every reachable inch of Michael’s warm body while you moan and whimper mindlessly as he makes you come yet again.
This time, your orgasm is lethargic, drawing long and dazed moans of Michael’s name out of you. Michael buries his face in the crook of your sweat-slick neck, breathing in your scent while your pussy squeezes him with fluttering pulses.
“Fuck, you’re so tight—mmmm.” He whimpers near your ear, trying his best to hold it together. You wrap your arms around his neck and curl your fingers in his hair, moaning directly in his ear.
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Michael leads you downstairs, hand holding yours as your feet patter barefoot on the cool tiles. You’re both parched, throat dry from all the panting and moaning. He opens the fridge and grabs two bottles of water, popping one open and handing it to you. Your throat thanks you when you take a sip, letting the cold liquid slide down your pharynx.
“I ain’t done with you, you know that?” Michael sips from his own bottle, holding soft eye contact with you.
“Are you serious?” You almost choke on water, skin cooling down as you both stand in the kitchen naked.
“What did I say before you came on my mouth?”
Fuck
“Come on,” Michael tosses his empty bottle in the bin, placing yours on the kitchen island as he holds a hand out for you, “I wanna try something new with you.”
You raise your brows, curiosity evident in your smile as you take his hand in yours and follow him upstairs. On your way up, you poke his butt with your acrylic nail, making him scowl playfully.
“Watch it.” Michael turns around, dick hardening already for what’s to come.
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Michael lies on his back, calm and drunk with desire. He motions for you with a finger, eyes hooded and dark as you crawl on top of him. You drop your hips and straddle his fully-hardened dick, rocking over him. Your slick coats his length in your arousal as he ponders for a moment.
“Come ride my face, sweet thing.” He taps his cheeks with long fingers. “Lemme taste that pretty pussy again.”
You wasted no time, crawling further up his body until your glossy centre’s inches away from his lips. Michael inhales your scent, humming in admiration before he tapes your round butt.
“Turn around for me. Want that ass right here.” Michael’s voice rumbles between your legs.
You raise a nervous brow, tilting your head to the side with an awkward smile. “Are you sure?”
“Do I look unsure?” He quips and licks his lips.
You look down at him and bite your lip, shaking your head in disagreement.
He looks very sure.
You turn around, legs on either side of his upper body. The new angel gives him complete access to your ass and pussy. He wastes no time, pulls you down to his lips, pushing his tongue into your needy hole. His tongue explores you as much as possible, lapping at your fresh arousal like a man dying of thirst.
You groan in surprise, fondling your tits as your hips rock against his mouth. When you look down, you notice his unattended dick lying hard on his thigh. As if driven by sheer hunger, you lean forward and wrap your hands around him, still moaning as Michael works behind you. You spit on his tip, thick silva trailing down his large length before you stroke him lazily. Michael’s tongue inside you halts for a second when he whimpers at your touch. Your hands squeeze him in between strokes, making him moan more and more against your dripping pussy.
When you wrap your lips around his tip, all hell breaks loose. Michael thrusts involuntarily into your mouth, whimpering around your clit, which makes you moan too. A sultry song between lovers breaks in your shared bedroom. Your moans vibrating through his body only make him moan, doing the same to you. Not only do your moans add extra friction between you two, but they also fuel you both on. You bob your head over Mike’s thick dick, slurping on your own slip, which trails down his length. Michael bucks his hips in unison with your head bobs, hitting the back of your throat with a twitching tip. He doesn’t stop eating you out either. His tongue buries itself in your pussy again, moaning over your clit while he messily sucks on it. His chin and cheeks are drenched in a mix of yours and his arousal, a mix of wetness and semen coating his chiselled jaw while he presses open-mouth kisses to your vulva.
You cum concurrently. Michael’s hands grip your soft ass while he spills into your mouth. His warm cum coats your throat, some dripping out of your mouth as you cough from choking slightly. You don’t stop stroking him. Your hands move up and down his dick while you suck on his oozing tip, milking him dry for all he has. When you cum, you cover Michael’s lips in slick arousal. He drinks it all, whimpering and lapping his tongue to capture every drop of your orgasm into his mouth.
“Tastes so good—fuck!” Michael groans, drinking your last drop of arousal. He smacks your ass then rubs the plush flesh, definitely leaving a bruise. Your legs finally give in, and you almost suffocate him with your ass when you fall against him. Michael laughs a hearty but exhausted laugh when he pushes you off his face.
“Sorry.” You giggle and rest your head atop his sweaty chest, wiping a drop of your cum off his lip. Michael grasps your hand and licks your finger clean, greedy for every drop of you. “Jeez, Mike.”
“What?” He shrugs and kisses your finger. “You taste good, ma.”
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Birds chirp outside, indicating the dawn of a new day. Michael flips you both on your side, spooning you under the thick covers. His hand cups your boob, then slides down to push your leg slightly forward. His dick lies hard on your thigh, ready for another round.
“Nigga, you’re crazy.” You whine, fighting sleep, but suddenly feel turned on again.
“I made you a promise.” Mike presses his tip to your entrance, asking for permission. “Sun’s not up yet.”
You nod and he slowly—lazier than before—eases himself into you. You both sigh. Michael drapes his arm over your belly, pressing his face to the back of your neck with closed eyes. Your eyes are shut too, cheek pressed against your pillow as you intertwine your hand in his.
He makes love to you again, hips thrusting sluggishly from all the sensitivity from your previous activity. He whimpers into your skin, praising how you feel and how much he loves you and your body. You’re utterly gone too, mouth ajar and drooling on your pillow. You whine his name over and over again, letters morphing into each other as you twitch from super-sensitivity.
“Sweet thing. You drive me wild.” Michael grazes his teeth on the back of your neck, dick twitching inside you. His pace lets you feel every vein and ridge of his length, turning you on more than you thought possible.
“I love you, Mikey.” Your voice cracks, and you orgasm one more time. “I—I love you so much.”
“Love you more, ma.” Michael fills you with seed once more, groaning pathetically on your skin as his hips falter. “I love you more.”
Michael coming home to reader in living room blasting his songs dancing and singing and she doesn't notice him and then gets soo embarrassed caught screaming his songs xoxox
݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆ caught red handed • Michael x reader
⤷ ゛Synopsis ˎˊ˗ in which you're caught red handed having your own private concert featuring Michael's songs
𑣲⋆ Contains : fluff, fluff, fluff, Michael wanting to make u his apprentice, caught in the act
A/n: this was such a cute idea I had to start it immediately >⩊<.ᐟ
Sunday always meant cleaning day. You'd open up the blinds, pushing open all the curtains, broom in hand as you swept all throughout the kitchen, somehow breaking out a sweat from doing the simple task as you wiped the beads of sweat from your forehead as the music blasted through the speakers.
Usually, Michael would be home, but this Sunday he headed off to the studio bright and early, babbling something about a new song coming to him that you barely heard in your half-sleep state, your limbs tangled up in the warmth of the sheets as you hummed lightly at the feeling of his lips against your temple. You knew that he wouldn't be back for another few hours; hell, he might not be back until after the sun went down and the stars made themselves known in the sky, or so you thought.
It had only been a few hours since Michael left, and the kitchen and dining room were now so spotless you could almost see a sparkle on the surfaces. Next on your to-do list was the living room.
The music played throughout the house, your broom in your hand as you hummed absentmindedly to the song that played previously, before it faded off, leaving the house in a short moment of silence until the familiar opening of "The Way You Make Me Feel" started playing, the punchy sound of drums and bass echoing out into the space. Your body instinctively moved on its own as you twirled around the coffee table, completely immersed in the song, maybe too immersed that you didn’t hear the sound of the front door clicking shut, or the sound of his loafers clicking against the marble floors.
You were already shouting at the top of your lungs, using the broom as your own personal microphone, pointing at your invisible audience as you sang.
“The way you make me feellll”
Was the only thing Michael heard as he made his way through the halls into the living room, stopping in his tracks as he peered through the opening. The sight of the sun leaking through the windows completely lighting up the space as you pranced around, somehow ending up on the cushions of the couch, bouncing around and unbeknownst to you. Your fake audience had now become a live one, an amused smile playing out on Michael's face as he bobbed his head along to the beat, just waiting for the moment when you'd turn around and see him standing there.
Well, it seemed he didn't have to wait long as you turned around, posing, your eyes closed before you opened them, the realization setting in as you glanced at your position on the couch then to the smile that danced on Michael's face.
“Oh…OH!” You squealed, hopping off the couch, immediately cutting the music that filled the embarrassing moment.
“Just how much of that did you see…” you covered your face, your words muffled by your hands that were pressed to your face.
“Oh, I saw enough, maybe I should make you my apprentice,” he let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back.
“Oh gosh, Michael, stop.”
"C'mon, do the pose again," he laughed as you buried your face in his chest, shaking it from the pure embarrassment of the moment.
i missed it but i just wanted to thank you all for a little over 1.5k followers 🥹 i have found such comfort within our space here on mjblr and i love each and everyone on of you so much, it's beyond words 🤍🤍🤍
so like how do i break it to you guys that we're not gonna see nanny for a bit . . . not until i finish her introduction post and get this oneshot out and then it's series planning . . . so yeah
if you guys are that hungry i can conjure something up
are you rlly quitting writing for michael? :(( its okay tho i still love you
no i’m not! i have one draft left for michael, but after that i am taking a little break. i’ve been pushing out fics for sweet michael since may non-stop and my inspiration is genuinely just GONE. like, every time i try to put pen to paper for michael, literally no words come out.
the last draft i’ve written, i’ve written with genuinely so much trouble. it was truly a hassle. and i just think you guys deserve top quality fics yk? so i just want to take a step back, let inspo come to me naturally. and i also want to read more fics to get my creative juices flowing. deadass i was so busy writing i barely read anything. oh and my sudoku obsession flared up again, so i wanna do a couple of those too (i bought 3 books full of them) 😭
with that being said, i get soooo many lovely, sweet messages on the daily. such kind words, and i adore ALL of you. i’ll never take you guys’ support for granted: we’re family.
besides, i have other fandoms i want to focus on too! but eventually i’ll return to michael. just give me 2 to 3 weeks to recharge 🧘♀️
summary: you catch michael jerking off to one of your sexy little polaroid pics that he stole from your boyfriend's wallet. The sweet girl that you are, you decide to put him out his misery.
warnings: heavy smut with little plot, cheating, dom!reader, sub!michael, virgin!michael, creampie (sorry not sorry), f! oral receiving, m! oral receiving, michael is heavily inexperienced,
a/n: I’ve lowk been wanting to write something virgin michael based & this is what I came up with!! & also I’ve been in heat this week for some reason so fuck all that cute shit here’s sumthin dirty xoxo
𑣲masterlist/taglist
Michael plops himself on the edge of his bed, the sunlight pooling through the window behind him & on the polariod he’s holding, a polaroid of you. In the picture, you’re sat on your boyfriend’s lap in an oversized tee, probably his. Your bare ass is jutted out as you look back, smiling cutely at the camera lens, your boyfriend’s hand gripping the fat of your cheek. As much as Michael loves it, it doesn’t belong to him.
The Polaroid he’s holding actually belongs to your boyfriend, your loyal & loving boyfriend. He found it poking out his wallet that was laying on the couch while you, Janet, his brothers & of course your boyfriend, were in the occupied in the back garden drinking & chatting, completely unaware of his sly acts.
Michael’s always been a bit nosey, especially when it comes to you & your boyfriend. He can’t help but despise him, hates the way he looks at you, hates the way he touches you. He’d always feel a way when you brought him over almost every-time you visited. He was still such a boy even in his 20’s, so lustful & envious yet so shy & enclosed.
He’d always ogle at you from across the room anytime you weren’t looking. The natural pout of your ripe pink lips, or the way your tits would bounce a little any time you giggled or moved, practically threatening to fall out of your skimpy camisole.
He lays back on the bed, placing the sultry Polaroid next to him so he’s able to pull of his shorts & his boxers, his eyes never leaving the picture beside him. He leaves them pooled at his ankles, too excited & frantic to take them off completely.
His cock is already rock hard, standing upright, just begging to be milked after multiple painful hours of weeping pre-cum in his pants from the way your ass looked in those denim shorts today. Thank god it was summer, he thought to himself.
His cheeks flush hot & pink as he picks up the picture again, trembling from adrenaline. He knows it’s wrong, you’re taken, someone else’s property. But Michael’s a traditional man, a boyfriend ain’t a husband is it?
He wraps a shaky hand around his meaty shaft, long n’ full veins already making an appearance under the skin from his intense arousal.
Shallow pathetic whimpers fall from his lips as he gently strokes his cock, staring at your slutty little picture, his mouth agape. He’s never been so erect in his life, he can barely wrap it around his hand from how big it’s gotten.
"God help me." He whispers, his voice box cracking.
He was obsessed with you, he’s had a crush on you ever since Janet brought you over, he’s just never acted on it as he’s doing now.
His attempts to keep his eyes out the back of his head start to fail as he gets closer to his climax, his hips bucking sloppily into his fist as he shuts his eyes, falling deeper into his imagination & less in reality with each stroke. Your name fell out of his mouth instinctively like a mantra, his cock a ticking time bomb in his grasp.
All of a sudden, his selfish trance was broken with a creak with what sounded like a door. He looks to the sound briefly, thinking it was something else. But it wasn't, it was you. You'd been standing in the doorway for at least 2 minutes, leaning against it with your mouth pried open in a teasing, judgmental manner. Secretly, you liked watching him touch himself when he knew no one was watching, you found it primal & dirty.
It was you who'd pushed the door open a little so it would creak, making yourself known to Michael.
As soon as he saw you, he shot up & grabbed his boxers to pull them up in a scurried motion. He looked like a deer in headlights, his eyes all blown out & scattered. You watch him slide the Polaroid under his pillow, thinking you wouldn't notice, but of course you did.
Before he could open his mouth to talk, you butt in.
"I was just walkin' past, & I heard my name?" you coo, your sweet Indiana accent making him even more shy.
You step into the room, closing & locking the door behind you with a small click as he sits up. His shorts are still pooled at his ankles as you move closer, taking a seat next to him.
He plants his face in his hands, stiff as anything. He genuinely looked as if he could cry. The last thing he expected to see was you, that's the last person he'd want to see him in that state.
"m' so sorry—" Is all he could manage, his voice shaky & eyes glossy as he looks at you, "please don't tell Janet, I'll do anything for you not to tell her, Im so sorry—"
You place a hand on his cheek, caressing him softly as you tilt your head with a small pout of your lips.
"I ain't gonna tell anyone, okay baby?" You mewl at him like a kid as you nod.
He nods along like he has no mind of his own, totally dumbfounded by anything you tell him. Now that you think of it, he kind of reminds you of a puppy.
"I wasn't thinkin' about you though, I promise, it was just to some Playboy magazines." He protests.
You let out a little giggle as you pull out the Polaroid sticking out from under his pillow like a sore thumb. You hold it up in front of his face with an amused expression.
“What’s this then huh?”
You watch the colour literally drain out of Michael's face as he goes silent. His pulse booms in his ears as he feels his hands grow clammy. He stammers as he tries to explain himself to no avail.
"That's not mine—" He says.
"I know it's not yours silly, it's my boyfriend's." You reply, your bottom lip drawing in from how horny he must've been to take this.
"N-no, but I dont know how it got here."
You tut, putting the polaroid on the bedside table.
“I’m not dumb, I mean look—“ you lift his hand off his crotch, revealing his hard poking under his boxers. He hisses through his teeth from the mere sensation of you touching his hand.
“You’re still hard, I know you were touching yourself to me. You’re such a little perv.”
“No I promise it wasn’t like that.” He presses, shaking his head.
You start to pull his shorts off from his ankles, startling him.
“What are you doing?” He says frantically, his eyes darting back & fourth from your face to where you’re pulling his shorts off.
“Shh, just relax.” You whisper, throwing his shorts to the floor, “I’m just trying to help you, but you can’t tell my boyfriend, you hearing me?”
Selfishly, you wanted his dick after seeing the size of it. & plus, you’ve always found him cute, Janet’s shy older brother who doesn’t talk much always appealed to you.
Michael watches you as if you’ll disappear if he blinks or moves an inch. He nods slowly in regard to your statement, understanding what’s going on. To him everything feels like a hazy dream, like he hasn’t accepted its reality yet.
You throw his shorts on the ground, leaving him in his boxers as you situate yourself in-between his legs. Your mouth salivates at the sight of him under the fabric like an incubus, ready to feed of him.
You caress his slim thighs, the stubble of hair making your palms tingle.
“Wait, this is wrong. This is really wrong.” Michael whines, dragging a hand across his face as he watches you tug at the hem of his boxers.
“I’ve always had a little thing for you Mikey, y’know that?” You say, pulling down his boxers & off his feet.
“—Always found you so cute.” You continue.
His cock sprung free the second you pulled down his boxers, hitting his lower abdomen. His tip was a deep mauve, glistening pre-cum still gathered at the top. His chest rises & falls as he stares at you, waiting for you to make another move.
You take his shaft in your hand & you can barely get it around. He bites his bottom lip at the sensation of your warmth wrapped around him. You bring your hand up to his mouth, laying your palm out.
“Spit,” you tell him.
He does as you say, gathering as much salvia as he can to put on your hand. You rub the fluids onto the head of his cock as you begin stroking slowly.
Michael’s eyes pinch shut tightly as he battles with something deep inside him. He’s tried to be holy his entire life, as unlustful as possible, following the ways of God. Not only that, but he was also thinking about how angry his brothers would be if they found out he betrayed their close friend. So many things were circling in his mind.
That thinking was soon brought to a stop as he feels something warm & wet touch him down there. He opens his eyes, seeing you bent slightly with your plumpy lips wrapped perfectly around his swollen tip.
“Oh my god,” he groans.
You swirl your tongue around his tip as you watch him squirm & struggle. His knuckles turning white as he tugs at the sheets beside him. You loved how in control you felt. You wrap a hand around the bottom of his base, not being able to take him all.
You begin bobbing your head up & down his shaft enthusiastically, squeezing him tighter with your wrapped hand as little gags rip from your throat, making him swell larger in your mouth. You love your boyfriend, but you didn’t expect Janet’s brother’s to be bigger than him. You release him from your mouth with a wet pop, stroking him absentmindedly.
“Anyone ever done this to you before?” You question with a twinkle in your eye.
Michael shakes his head frantically, his breath now completely erratic.
“No never, I’ve never done something like this before.” He admits, his cheeks flushed a light pink.
You hum in satisfaction, “you’re so innocent, that’s what I loved about you. You ain’t like everyone else, you’re pure.”
Michael’s unable to respond as he watches you remove your t-shirt, leaving you in your black laced bra. You lean down, giving his cock one last lick from bottom to top, making him wince & contract.
You stand on your feet as you push him back so he’s laying flat on his back, helpless. You reach behind you, unclasping your bra. Your perky tits fall free, sitting politely infront of him as you let the useless material fall to the ground.
“You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” Michael says barely above a whisper. His mouth falls agape as he gawks at them like a moth to a flame.
You giggle as you bend down, pushing your capris down your legs & off your feet. You follow along with your panties, throwing them onto his chest. He wastes no time in grabbing & touching them as if they’re gold. He brings them to his face, inhaling the natural scent of you he’d been dreaming of.
Never would you think you’d be standing in front of Michael stark naked. He relishes in the sight of you, his cock visually twitching as he furrows his brows. He comes back to reality for a second.
“What if someone comes? My brothers or Janet—“
“They won’t, just be quiet & they won’t okay?” You say, walking over to him as you situate yourself on his lap.
You were just about to grab & position him to your entrance when he stops you, grabbing your waist.
“Wait, can I?” He whispers nervously, pointing to your pussy.
You get off him, looking a little confused. You think you know what he’s asking for, yet you love to play games.
“Can you what baby? Use the right words.”
He hesitates before finally saying, “Can I lick it? Just wanna taste it so bad.”
“C’mere then.”
You nod with little giggle as you lean your back on his headboard spreading your legs in-front of him. You play with yourself with one hand, the other reaching out to place on his head as he lays down on his stomach. He looks up at you momentarily as you thread his curls between your fingers tediously.
He latches his mouth on your pussy instantly, lapping up your juices from bottom to top. The hums of satisfaction from him send a vibration to your clit, making you tense up & whimper. For someone who’s never eaten pussy before, he does it pretty well. Your boyfriend never made you feel this way, not enough desire as Michael has.
He continues suckling gently, moving to random places that wouldn’t usually bring pleasure, completely messy & inexperienced but so damn desperate.
“Feels real good Mikey, just like that don’t stop m’kay?” You breathe out, your thighs starting to clench as your eyes become teary.
You pinch your eyes shut, the muffled sounds of him slurping up your arousal adding to your pleasure. His hand comes up to gently grab one of your breasts.
“Right there, gonna come, y-yeah—“
Before you can process anything else, an orgasm rips through you with searing force. You arch your back into a sharp C as Michael makes an attempt to keep riding you through it with his mouth. Deep guttural moans erupt from your throat as you cover it with your hand, trying to stay quiet.
Michael sits up, wiping his chin with his wrist as he smiles in pleasure.
“You taste,” he pauses, “so good.”
You push him back down again to his original position, crawling on top of him as you hover yourself above his erect cock. You grab his face gently, pulling him in closer for a messy kiss. He’s probably been dreaming of simply kissing you for a while.
He moans into the kiss as your tongues battle for dominance, both of you extremely horny & greedy for eachother.
You reach down & grab his base, angling him perfectly with your weeping slit. Once it’s in the perfect position, you sit up & place both your hands on his chest.
“Remember, not a soul.” You remind him, placing a finger over his damp lips.
Michael blinks at you with his big brown adoring eyes, humming in submission as he waits impatiently to be inside of you. He’s excitement is tripled due to him never having sex, always having to wonder how it felt.
Finally, you start to sink down onto his length slowly. Each inch fills you up to the brim more & more, causing your eyes to roll back automatically. You reach the bottom, wiggling your ass you try to squeeze the last inch inside.
“It's so much bigger than his, fuck.” You whimper as you start to create little bounces.
Michael’s head falls back as low strangled groans rip from his throat. He’s not touching you yet, as if he’s afraid to overstep a boundary.
“You can touch me, Michael.” You say in between moans.
You bring his hands up to grab your hips, looking at you dumbfounded. He grabs you so gently you can barely even feel it. He slides his hands down towards your ass with a squeeze, a little wave of confidence washing over him.
"Like this?" he asks.
"Yes, exactly like that."
You continue bouncing on his length, a sweet ring of white elixir forming between the base of his cock & your pussy. Even if you two weren’t making noise, the obvious sound of skin slapping against skin & the erotic sounds of your mixed arousal filling the room — almost ratting out your little secret to the rest of the house.
“it's so tight,“ he manages to push out.
Never would Michael have thought his first time would be having his cock shoved deep inside his sister's best friend, he genuinely didn't know how to operate. All he knew was unrelenting pleasure, the rest of his brain foggy.
The room begins to feel humid, the unique aroma of your scents melting together to create an addictive combination that fills your nose with each breath.
Michael’s hips rut into you desperately from beneath, the thrusts becoming sloppy & erratic as he chases his release. He sits up slightly, wrapping his arms around your lower waist as he latches his mouth onto one of your nipples. He sucks with a warm gentle pull, catching the breath from your throat. He pulls you in tighter each second he gets closer, murmuring gibberish around your areola.
You hold the back of his head, running your manicured nails through his hair as you continue bouncing on him, occasionally grinding back & fourth.
“Think I’m gonna come, can’t stop.” He moans around your breast.
You pant furiously as you feel your own release crest in your lower belly, “f-fuck, me too. Come with me honey.”
Before you could move any more, the cord in your belly snaps. Your second orgasm riding through you blissfully. You throw your head onto Michael’s shoulder as you cry, your heartbeat booming in your ears as blind spots cover your vision temporarily.
Michael tried to last in hopes of staying inside you longer, yet the way your pussy tightened around him during your orgasm brought him to a sudden halt.
"Gonna come—"
His body stiffens up as he releases himself with one last thrust beneath you. He pauses before a singular, lengthy moan escapes his throat. You feel his warm seed paint your walls as he twitches, flopping onto his back as he tries to steady his breathing.
You lean forward, allowing him to slowly fall out of you. His flaccid length drops down on his abdomen as soon as it leaves you, his release dripping from you & onto his thighs.
All that was left was you & michael's bodies spent & glued together, a secret that only you two will have to hold from now on.
You look down at him, all fucked out & mesmerised by you. His eyes search you as if you're not supposed to be real. You pepper a kiss on his cheek,
"You're going to make this real difficult aren't you?"
ೄ ◞♡ imagine pervy bsf!michael edging you into a babbling, pathetic mess with his fingers buried deep inside your reckless heat, how this all unfolded because you don’t ever hesitate to tell your best friend anything he asks.
Your delayed response when he asked how’s you and your new boyfriend doing made him pry for details, if everything is as happy as it should be in a relationship.
You were, but not in bed. How your new boyfriend doesn’t know the first thing on how to properly touch a woman, or rarely seem to ever be in the mood when you are, leaving you with insecurities sprouting that you don’t feel beautiful or worthy of loving.
Of course, nobody wants to see their best friend feeling such a way. Michael didn’t think twice on offering to pick up your man’s slack, wanting to kill those doubts about yourself.
However, his jealousy over you choosing someone other than him seeps through his work, stopping the devastating curl of his digits against the spongy spot that was having you see stars, pulling a whine from where you are on his lap.
“W-Why’d you stop?” His fingers stay still inside your cunt, how it aches for just a mere twitch from them. He hums into the side of your head, lips shy from the shell of your ear. “Am I making you feel good?”
Is he serious?
You nod nonetheless, anything to get him to start back up again. “Yes, yes, s-so fucking good..!”
And so he does, but a complete contrast from before. It’s slower now, deliberate. Pausing at the edge, not fully leaving you, only to linger, letting you feel the absence before pushing all the way back inside. Hand gripped to your hip, so you won’t dare to pick up the pace and try to grind down onto them.
“He doesn’t have you moaning like this, does he?” He muses, watching the way you screw up your face from the mention of your shitty boyfriend. Your cheeks by now should be reddening from humiliation, the way you’re seeking dire touches from your best friend rather than the man you’re dating, how he’s asking questions he already knows the answer to.
Michael just wants to hear you admit it. To admit who’s got you shaking like this, to admit that this is really happening, both of you not in a dream. That you’re giving him all the reign to touch you however you want, because you won’t find it better with anyone else but him.
You answer when his fingers halt again, not letting you ignore him. “No, he doesn’t.” You don’t have to pick your head up to know he’s smiling, thumb now pressed barely to your clit, enough to make the friction even more unbearable.
“Will you leave him?”
Your broken sounds are cut short, caught off-guard by his question. It didn’t occur to you, but you think about how the guilt will burn you from the inside out to go back to your boyfriend right after Michael had you unraveling in his hands.
Apparently you waited too long for his liking, fingers dragging out. You shake your head, needing back that overwhelming fullness. “No wait, I will! I want you, not him. He can’t make me feel good like you do.”
You’ll say anything to get him to reward you with your gradually built-up pleasure, but he sees right through it. The circling of his thumb to your clit stops, fingertip lingering at your entrance. “I don’t think you mean that.”
Your voice is wrecked at this point, clinging onto the fabrics of his shirt for god knows how long. “Please, please, I mean it! Just—“
With devastating ease, he presses back in with two fingers this time, babbles dying on your tongue. Your body clenches tight to adjust, but it’s pointless as he pulls out again.
“Tell me again. Who makes you feel good? Me or that punk?”
Your muscles flutter, thighs twitching. “You!” And he’s back to it, this time thrusting his fingers in sharper, firmer, shifting his wrist to reach new depths.
It was all so fast, being so use to his torturous slow strokes. It had your orgasm arriving quickly, feeling it come from all the way down to tip of your toes, pulse stuttering.
Until he stopped himself yet again. “I want to hear you say it one more time, because I’m still not sure if I believe you.”
This is really silly, but an otw Michael fic where the reader's heel breaks while they're out together so Michael gives her a piggy back ride (or carries her princess style) all the way to the car and they're both giggling like idiots at the situation
Michael to the rescue
Pairing: Otw!Michael x reader
Content: In which after a night out your heel snaps, resulting in Michael coming to the rescue !
The night sky was gorgeous.
The stars covered the night sky like a safety blanket, twinkling prettily in the darkness of the night, illuminated by just the moon, the stars, and the sweet sounds of you and Michael walking side by side, your fingers interlocked tightly with his own as the two of you laughed at some silly joke Michael had told, your heels leaving a satisfying clicking sound against the concrete.
Then you heard it. The sickening sound of your heel snapping against the concrete, nearly sending you tumbling to the ground, as you caught onto Michael's shoulder. The heel was now completely leaning, making it absolutely unwalkable, a whine slipping from your lips, from the simple fact your new heels bought specifically for this night out had embarrassed you.
There was a brief moment of silence that hung between the two of you, your fingers still digging into his shoulder, your bodies at a standstill just looking down at the shoe that was misshapen, the thin heel not even close to looking like the other one.
“Mikey, my heel!” you laughed, dangling the mangled heel in your hands, watching as his eyes widened from how moments before your heel was perfectly intact and you were standing up straight to now, your fingers using his shoulder as a crutch to keep you upright because now you had one shoe that was perfectly fine and one that was mangled possibly beyond repair, but it was okay he’d buy you another pair later.
“Oh geez, I didn't know what was happenin” He laughed at the fact that he didn't hear the crack of your heel and that it barely registered that you’d nearly tumbled over, and now you were dangling your mangled heel.
He didn't want you to walk on the concrete with no shoes, so he did the only thing he could think of. “Get on my back,” he spoke, bending down so that you could hop on. Slowly you climbed on his back, adjusting yourself so that your weight was distributed equally making sure that you weren't hurting him, your legs on either side of his body, his arms holding you tightly so you didn't slip.
“Ugh! I can't believe my heel broke, I spent too much on these,” you rolled your eyes, before laughing, the sweetness in your voice filling his ears as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“We almost lost you there,” he laughed, shaking his head.
“And the sound,” you pouted even though he couldn't see it. The gentleness of the wind blowing against your face made you close your eyes as you soaked it in, the car not too far away when you finally fluttered your eyes open.
“We'll go find you some new heels on the way back,” he let out another snicker as the two of you made your way back to the car, concluding your short-lived piggyback ride on Michael's back.
it is no secret that michael jackson loves spoiling his girl.
buys you little trinkets when he’s out on tour and you don’t see him for months, frivolous little wallets, earrings, a cute little eiffel tower keychain from when he did a show in paris.
another thing is that michael jackson loves your legs. and he loves when you showcase them whenever you wear a skirt. he couldn’t contain himself when he first saw you in a tight, mini-skirt, the fabric riding up your legs as you moved through the house, oblivious to the fact how amazing you looked.
and your ass— how the rough, not yet broken-in denim held your ass cheeks together, slightly jutting them up, like two halves of a perfect heart. it had his mind working overhours.
that day, he wasn’t able to keep his hands to himself. you bending over when slipping on your kitten heels, his hand lazily swatting at your ass as he walked by. “you look good, miss thing.”
from that moment on, michael forgot about all the useless trinkets, and bought you all different kinds of skirts instead.
his favourite skirt is a denim one, low-waisted and always wrapped so prettily around your plush hips. there are two little pockets decorated with two heart-shaped stud buttons — like little envelopes, michael teased when he gifted it to you.
there’s a cute little customised “ℳ” with bedazzled gems on one pocket, brandishing your ass as his. and a butterfly on the other. michael thought it was so adorable, so you, when he bought it, and he couldn’t wait to see you eventually wearing it for him.
now, michael looks at how the soft denim strains over your ass as you grind against his stomach. every line, every ridge is slippery and sticky from the amount of times you came all over his abs.
michael’s head is propped against the headboard, eyes low and fixated on your ass, on the glistening letter in the moonlight, fingers pushing into the soft of your thighs under the tight denim to keep you in check.
“you’re so soaked, baby, dragging yourself all over me,” he mutters, pushing all of your weight down on his stomach, pussy spreading out like a flower. “y’like being nasty for mikey?”
“yes— yes, i’m nasty for you. only you, mikey—” you babble, the desperate push and pull of your core not letting up. you’re not wearing any panties, and your clit rolls deliciously over michael’s abdomen, your entrance spurting out transparent goo.
you’re leaving a trail of white wetness behind every time you drag yourself back and forth over him. your core muscles move up and down, and michael’s greedy fingers push up the hem of your skirt, revealing the plump globes of your ass.
“look at whatch’a hidin’, baby,” michael says, enthralled. “such a pretty ass. ‘s that all f’me?”
in the corner of your eyes, you feel tears gather when michael tenses up his abdomen, suddenly every ridge ten times more pronounced. “‘s all for you, fuck— a-all yours.”
“that’s a sweet girl,” michael praises back, his hand flatly coming in contact with one cheek, a wet thud ricocheting through the room as your flesh jiggles from the impact. he uses both his hands to knead your ass like two soft balls of dough, squeezing and pinching. pulling them apart slowly.
the pleasure, michael’s touch becomes too much for you. you fall over, right between michael’s bent legs on the bed, while he simultaneously pulls your ass closer to his face. “gonna reward you for having such a pretty ass. and this—”
he traces the “ℳ” with one tentative finger, his touch weirdly intimate and obscene at the same time. “means this—” he licks a slow stripe from your fluttering hole up between your ass cheeks, “‘s aaalll mine, baby.”
you tense up when you feel his wet muscle in a place you’ve never felt it before. you let out the most disgusting moan ever at that, ass cheeks closing around his slippery tongue. “don’t fight it, pretty baby. gonna lemme in.”
you don’t care about how ridiculous you sound. about how you’re basically grinding your ass into his face. you’re chasing the friction, the dip of his tongue altering between your soppy hole and soft asshole.
“look at all that lube you’re makin’,” michael mutters, two fingers plunging into your glistening hole to pull out a thick layer of white. “pretty pussy’s workin’ overhours. don’t need anythin’ else. you’re so wet f’me already.”
he separates the two digits in front of your face, fingers connected by sticky, white strings. part of you expects him to feed you your own cum, but he pulls his fingers back at the last minute as your heart drops in disappointment.
he traces your cum from your entrance all the way back to your ass, his touch deliberate and gentle, but so dizzying. you’re all disoriented, all the blood rushing to your head.
“look at that now,” your boyfriend tells you, circling his tongue around your gushing hole, his big hands holding you open and accessible to slurp up your gooey cum trickling into the crease of your ass cheeks. “gonna show you how pretty that cunt is.”
a/n: when lil wayne said “i put her on my plate, then i do the dishes” he meant this btw. also i can go nastier on the ass eating part but idk if the world is ready for that 😖 based off this post!
also casually wanna say that if you scroll through the #manipulative bsf!michael tag through my account, you'll find sm filth. like, i literally post a couple of smutty blurbs a day :P so if you look through that hashtag, you'll have the night of your life i hope <3
my angel you are sooo amazing!! may I request a dad!michael x reader fic where they just had their one-year-old, and Michael is already begging for another baby? I'd love lots of sweet domestic moments but also smutty and him being completely obsessed with the idea!!
݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆ Another one? • Dad!Michael x reader
⤷ ゛Synopsis ˎˊ˗ After your first child, Michael thinks its about time that the two of you have another one.
𑣲⋆ Contains : p in v, Michael's baby fever, talk of more than two kids, breeding, breaking the bed, currently in need of a new one I fear.
A/n: I feel like this was so sloppily written, but its like 2am and mama is tired (ó﹏ò｡)
You were already cradling your one-year-old in your arms, bouncing her lightly as she sniffled, clearly irritated by it being way past her nap time as her eyes grew heavier by the second, head falling against your shoulder. If anything, you were just as tired as her, your own eyes feeling like small weights were suddenly placed on your eyes as you stifled a yawn, careful not to wake the already dozing-off baby.
The sound of the wooden door creaking open slowly against the frame made you turn your head. Your husband is standing in the doorway, that big adorable smile plastered all over his face. That kind of smile that the rest of the world rarely sees, but for you it was all the time. His hair seemed more messy than usual, like he'd just rolled out of bed. His sweatpants sat low on his hips. His white shirt just barely covered the waist band of his sweats.
To the rest of the world, he was the king of pop, a global icon, but to you? He was a doting husband and an amazing first-time father who was eager to learn new things about having kids of his own.
“Hey, Tink." His voice was soft, careful not to wake the toddler who had finally fallen into a peaceful sleep as you lowered her into her crib, watching as she stirred slightly, getting used to the change from your arms to the soft sheets of the crib. Her cute pink onesie stretching out as she stretched her limbs. The sight pulling at your heartstrings from looking at the life that you and Michael brought into the world.
The feeling of Michael's arms wrapping around you suddenly made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside as he placed a delicate kiss on the crook of your neck before he let his head rest in the same spot he'd kissed seconds before.
“I want to talk to you about something," he whispered, taking in another deep breath of your scent. Your perfume mixed with the light, airy scent of your one-year-old.
“Hm? What is it?” you hummed, turning to face him as he still kept his arms clamped around your waist. His doe eyes, softly peering into your own. That was the same expression he had when he first convinced you to have a child with him.
“I've been thinking," he started before pressing a kiss to your lips, pulling back before taking another peek at the one-year-old that slept peacefully in her crib. His eyes softened seeing the sight of her stirring figure as he let his hands go from your waist down to your hands, guiding you out of the room and towards the shared bedroom. The darkness of the now-quiet halls devoured the two of you whole as you walked slowly down them.
“Seems like you're stalling."
"I'm not, baby; I was just thinking we could have another one," he said, sitting next to you, his hands still connected with yours as he gazed softly at you. His thumbs are running across your knuckles, the soft skin of your knuckles.
“A baby?” It came out louder than you wanted to, watching as he nodded eagerly. It wasn't like you weren't expecting this. Hell, the man said he'd knock you up eighteen times if that meant having eighteen kids with him.
“Yes, yes, y'know, and you're such a good mother… and I think it would be amazing to have another one," he babbled, his hands moving in a way that accentuated his point. “And I think it would be good to have another one, now… or at least start trying."
“Michael, do you think you'll be able to handle another one?” You laughed, and your eyes drifted to the mess on top of his head as he quickly smoothed it down with his hand. "C'mon, y'know how I felt when you were all around with our little one." His voice dropped down to that seductive tone that suddenly made you want to toss your panties to the side, giving him full access to explore you however he wanted.
“You have one hour before nap time's up." You leaned closer, pressing a desperate kiss to his lips, your tongues sloppily wrapping around each other's as Michael let his hands roam around your waist, slipping under your shirt and grasping at your bare chest, like it was his first time catching a feel.
Even a year later after giving birth, your nipples were still sensitive. The feeling of his calloused hands brushing past them constantly made you whimper against his lips as he flipped you onto your back. Your hair is now messy against the once neat sheets, creating creases in the sheets as the mattress adjusts to the sudden shift.
"I'm going to take such good care of you and fill you up so well." His lips trailed from your lips to your collarbone, peppering the supple skin with kisses.
“Mhm, I want it; I want you to get me pregnant again," you instinctively whined. Only making him even hornier hearing you desperately beg for him to get you pregnant. The only thing he could think of was his cock that desperately ached to be squeezed around your walls and your belly being full of his kids while you waddled around asking for his help.
“Yeah?” Eagerly he helped you take your top off, the sound of it landing on a nearby lamp with a light thud. The next thing to go was those tiny lounge shorts that barely left anything, but it wasn't like he needed to imagine anything when he had it right in front of him. Slowly he slipped them down, taking your panties down and tossing them to an unknown place in the room.
Everything was so desperate, from the way he took your clothes off to the way he took his own clothes off. Your lips constantly mashing together like it's the last thing you'd do, and with a one-year-old, who knows when the next time you'll have your legs wrapped around his waist will be.
The moment he'd finally tugged down at his underwear, it was like all hell broke loose. The head of his cock brushed against your clit as you let out a pleasant sigh, from both the feeling of his lips on your skin and the stimulation that only worsened the ache. Your hands grasped tightly onto his back, feeling every bit of the flexing muscle as he eased his way in between your folds.
“I've been waitin' so long to be stuffed inside you, gettin' you pregnant," he cooed, a groan ripping through his throat as his hips involuntarily thrust upwards, earning a muffled moan. Your legs move to wrap around his waist, trapping him in between your legs. The only thing he could do was let his hips thrust upward, letting his head fall forward, resting on your own forehead. The thin layer of sweat that glistened over your body from Michael's body heat mixed with the stuffy air of the room.
“Just like that, fuck, fill me up."
Oh, did that saying do something to him? It was almost like he was possessed. His body was no longer controllable, as his hips moved wildly, creating a white foam at the base of his cock where the two of you connected. The repetitive sound of skin slapping filled the room as the headboard knocked against the wall, creaking with each stroke of his cock.
“Mikeyy… you have to slow down s'too much” your words were slurred, your brain foggy as your legs pulled him tighter.
“m’sorry baby, I-I cant, too good," he whined, close enough to where you could feel the warmth of his breath.
“Give it to me."
You knew he was close; hell, he knew he was close with how sloppy he'd gotten with his thrust, feeling your walls clamping down on him, sending him over the edge with one final thrust, filling you completely with that sticky, warm liquid. Then there was that sickening crack of the bed underneath you.
After being put under such a strenuous activity, you were shocked it didn't give way sooner, but with that nauseating crack came the sudden dip, earning a gasp from both of you.
“Michael…”
Turns out you'd need a pregnancy test and a new bed.
