mj forever ꨄ︎

fel | she/her | 26 | black mdni - 18+ blog

[cannonindeez]

fel - 26 - black woman - NYC - f1 enthusiast - 70s music lover - forever lover girl

currently obsessed with: michael jackson (... jafaar & jermajstey jackson), lando norris, & lewis hamilton

I'm not a writer, but I love lurking and reading (with the occasional chit chat in the asks), but I want to be more connected with my moots so PLEASE feel free to hop in my ask box and yap away!!

(realized ive had this blog since ~2013 and I have yet to introduce myself... oops 😬😅)

[1andonlytashae]

The Aftermath

Timeline: Mature Era

Pairing: Michael x black wife reader

Preview: You endure the consequences of your actions during brunch.

Content Warning: SMUT, SMUT & MORE SMUT! DO NOT PASS GO IF YOU AIN'T 18+

Word Count: Bout 2.6k 🤭

A/N: Shoutout to the girlies that were ON MY HEAD about a part two lol, I love ya'll and this is for ya'll! Also, not completely proofread.

Read part 1 here

✦──────────✦ 

The mounting anticipation during the car ride back home only made the surface of your skin hum with want and still feeling the effects of the alcohol in your system heightened your dreamy state. 

Michael’s hand remained on your thigh kneading the supple flesh through your dress, gradually climbing higher and in turn dragging your dress upwards, exposing smooth chestnut brown skin. You knew he was teasing you, taunting you with how he’d be touching as soon as you stepped foot in the house. 

A cool sensation on the underside of your knee brought your attention back to the present and you felt Michael’s slender fingers rubbing that sweet spot causing you to shift in your seat. 

Smug bastard knew exactly what he was doing even though he was the picture perfect image of calm, cool and collected. Not breaking a sweat or even the tiniest smile, Michael continued dragging a lone digit across the sensitive bend in your knee, light as a feather. 

Sitting up straighter against the soft leather seat, your pussy clenched as if you were doing kegels. The slick heat between your thighs was steadily increasing and you couldn’t hold back much longer. 

“Open those pretty legs for me Beauty, let me see you spread them thick thighs.” Michael commanded, guiding his hand down under the bunched up fabric of your dress. 

Legs falling open, your eyes darted down to watch Michael’s hand disappear between the gap your parted thighs created. His light vanilla toned fingers dragged lightly against your pussy lips, pressing just so, you watched as the middle and pointer fingers pushed inside. 

“Oooo shiiiit!” You whimpered, eyes fluttering, pulse racing as you felt those two fingers slide through your pussy and slip over your clit. 

Applying gentle pressure, Michael let his two fingers caress the tight bundle of nerves in slow, tight circles. He was in no rush, this was just the beginning of your punishment and no easy reward was in sight. 

✦🩶✦🔥✦🩶✦ ✦🩶✦🔥✦🩶✦ ✦🩶✦🔥✦🩶✦ ✦🩶✦🔥✦🩶✦ ✦🩶✦🔥✦🩶✦ ✦

Michael had been edging you for the past 20 minutes and your body was begging for a release. 

You were on fire, that was the only way to explain how taut the string of pleasure was pulled low in your belly. Legs kept spread open to accommodate Michael’s wide shoulders as he licked broad strokes against your overly slick labia. Your juices had runneth over and were pooling in the sheets below you. 

“So pretty and all mine, mmmm.” Michael hummed, sending spine tingling vibrations straight through you. 

“Daddy, p-please.” You begged, hips jerking forward.

A light smack landed on your clit, “You think you deserve to cum yet? I’m just getting started, baby girl.” Michael rubbed his thumb over your clit watching as more of your slick gushed from your pussy. 

His tongue darted out to catch more of the ambrosia, swallowing the tangy liquid Michael was convinced heaven was right there between your legs. Sucking your clit between his lips he used the tip of his tongue to whip back and forth. Feeling your thighs clench, he knew you were close and once your fingers entangled in his soft tresses, he released the bundle of nerves with a soft pop. 

“Fuck, daddy!” You groaned once again being denied your release. 

A dark chuckle left Michael’s lips as he laid a kiss upon your mound. Tapping the side of your thigh twice, he signaled for you to turn over. 

Gathering strength, you turned your body over presenting your thick peach shaped ass to Michael’s greedy eyes. Setting his hand on the right cheek, he took a moment to just feel the smooth skin under his palm. 

SMACK! 

The jiggle was mesmerizing, so he laid a hand against the left cheek and… 

SMACK!

A delicious heat licked up your spine as the sting of the slaps hit your core. Your fingers clenched the sheets. 

“Now, why do you deserve these spankings baby girl?” Michael asked you as he rubbed a hand over your reddened flesh. 

“B-because I was talking about our private business in public.” You stammered. 

“Good, now counting em out.” 

The weight of his hand felt so damn good against your ass even as it dealt pain with each blow. 

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

“One!” “Two!” “Three!” 

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

“Four!” “Five! “S-sixxx!” “Ssseven” By the time you’d reached 7, you were a whimpering, soaked, overstimulated mess. 

Soothing the stinging ache, Michael massaged both cheeks in his huge warm hands. 

“Doin’ so good for me Beauty. Taking your punishment like a good girl.” He rasped, bending down to place a kiss on your hot flesh. 

Trailing a hand over your ass, down your thigh and coming to rest between your legs, Michael placed two fingers at your dripping entrance and pushed forward. Your wet, slick heat instantly enveloped the long digits coating them in your juices. 

A visible shudder rolled through Michael’s body as he closed his eyes and groaned from the sheer pleasure.

“Damn baby girl, this all for me?” He groaned.

“Ahh, yessss daddy. Only you!” Pushing your ass back, you started rocking your hips to try and get some friction and ease the ache.

Instantly the grip of Michael’s hand halted any movement. Fingers tightening in the bend of your hip. 

“I didn’t tell you to move, did I baby girl?” He growled. 

Pushing his fingers deeper inside your gushy walls, they were forced to stop once they hit the spongy g-spot. Your body answered with a rush of liquid dripping down your thigh. 

“Mmmm, p-pplease.” A broken sob left your dry lips. 

Smirking, Michael rubbed calloused fingers against the spongy bundle and watched your back arch even further and the goosebumps that dotted your flesh. He licked his lips, desire swirling in his eyes as he leered at the clear liquid spilling out of your pussy. 

Slowly sliding his fingers from your slick tunnel, he salivated at the slick coating before stuffing them into his mouth and licking the digits clean. 

Wrapping a hand around his fully erect dick, Michael kneeled behind you, rubbing the head across your pussy lips, he got it nice and slick. 

“Shiiit, you feel so damn good baby girl.” Gritting his teeth, Michael lined up with your opening and pushed forward.

You both collectively gasped as the feeling of pleasure shot through your bodies. Finally being filled by your husband’s thick, curved dick had your tongue lolling out the side of your mouth. 

“Damn, daddy you feel sooo big.” You moaned. 

Anchoring his hands at your waist and placing his thumbs in the dimples there, Michael pulled his dick out until only the head lingered inside and with a hard thrust, slammed back inside your tight walls. 

“Oooooh!” A breathy moan escaped as you were caught off guard by the deep, hard thrust. 

IN. OUT. IN. OUT.  

Each stroke Michael delivered hit your cervix and pushed you further up the bed until you were clutching the headboard. 

The echo of skin slapping filled the room, a thick layer of heat, combined with the smell of sex swirled around you two as Michael knocked the Mario coins outta you. 

Rolling his hips, Michael reached a hand up to wrap in your braids and tugged. 

“When I tell you to keep our business in this house, you gonna listen baby girl?” 

Eyes rolling back and a thin line of drool spilling from your mouth, you tried answering but all thought had left your brain a while ago.  You were officially dickmatized. 

SMACK!

“Answer daddy when he’s talking to you, Beauty.” Michael commanded. 

“Fuck, y-yes daddy!” You yelped, the slap causing your walls to squeeze around Michael’s dick. 

Rubbing the offended area, Michael moaned. “Good girl, you’re taking my dick so well.” 

Keeping a hold in your braids, started rocking his hips thrusting hard and fast. Back and forth, hitting your spot so good you started seeing stars. 

“Right there baby, harder daddy!” The pleasure building in your lower belly was reaching a fever pitch and you were so close to cumming. 

Reaching a hand between your thighs and finding your clit, Michael lightly rubbed his middle finger over the bundle. 

“Let Daddy feel you rain down on this dick.” The velvety tone of his rasp scratched your brain so good and that was all she wrote. 

Finally allowed to welcome the release you’d been denied, a tingling started at your toes, rushing up your legs and the flood rained down washing over Michael’s still hardened member inside you. Your essence leaked out of you, dripping down your thighs and pooling in the sheets below. 

“Ooooooo, shiiiit dadddy….” Moaning uncontrollably, your voice gave out from the pleasure. 

Dropping your head to the pillow underneath, you gulped in deep breaths. Body still buzzing from the high of cumming so hard, you felt Michael pull out. Your pussy pulsed and clenched around air, missing the feel of being full already. 

Looking down at the beautiful mess you’d made on the bed, Michael gently took hold of your hips and while moving you away from the wet spot, turned you onto your back. 

“Lift up for me baby girl.” Michael instructed as he tucked a pillow under your hips. 

Once you were settled and comfortable, he moved between your thighs making room for his tall frame. Adjusting your legs on either side of his knees, Michael trailed his hands over your body. Dragging nimble and skilled fingers over the soft skin of your thighs, over the soft curve of the dip in your hip, caressing the plump roll of your tummy, brushing up your sides to roll a nipple in each hand. 

Biting your lip, you hissed embracing the slight pain that quickly blended into pleasure when Michael bent his head and laved his wet tongue over your right nipple. A jolt of arousal shot straight to your core, stirring your pussy into alertness. 

Not one to leave a job half finished, Michael switched to your left nipple, engulfing it into his eager mouth. Sucking on the pebbled nub, he released a deep moan. 

Slowly you drew a hand up his back and tangled your fingers in his soft jet black strands. The pads of your fingers lightly drag against his scalp. A shiver covered his body causing him to nip at your puckered nipple. 

“Sssss” Hissing you gently bit your bottom lip. 

“Sorry baby girl, let me kiss it better.” Michael released your nipple and peppered light kisses around it to soothe the brief ache. 

Nuzzling into the crook of your neck, he dropped open mouthed kisses on your collarbone and along the column of your neck until feather light kisses made their way to your cheek. Cupping your jaw, Michael brushed his thumb across your swollen lips. 

Dipping his head lower,he licked a stripe across the seam of your lips beckoning for entry. Opening without second thought, you allowed his tongue to duel with yours and sucked on the offered appendage. In a clash of teeth, bruised lips and soft kisses, you parted when air became necessary, pulling back a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. 

“I could kiss these lips all day baby. Mmmm, gimme one more.” Michael rasped dipping his head capturing your lips in a tender kiss, nibbling on your bottom lip.

He was hard as a rock and still hadn’t released yet, rutting his hips, his dick rubbed against your pussy lips and with each nudge pre-cum leaked from the head. Grasping the base, Michael tugged, hard, and stroked up and down. The foreskin pushed back revealing the smooth, girthy length. 

With a final stroke, Michael positioned the turgid flesh at your drenched hole and entered, once again nestling into your gushy walls. 

Pussy, still sensitive from the previous high, you tensed from the overstimulation. Steadying a gentle hand on your hip, Michael rubbed small circles and cooed in your ear. 

“You can take it mama, that’s it.” 

Gradually your body accepted the intrusion and the familiar tingle settled in your lower belly.  With the angle of your hips, aided by the pillow, you felt Michael’s pelvic bone bump your clit sending small chills down your spine. 

“I love how you fill me baby, so full every time.”  Your hoarse, aroused voice moaned. 

Clutching a hand around your thigh, Michael brought it rest against his hip as he slithered his other hand to rest lightly at the base of your neck. His fingers curled just enough to feel the slight pressure he applied but not hard enough to restrict air flow. 

Turning your head just so, you caught his thumb between your lips and sucked. 

“There’s my naughty girl.” Michael groaned barely holding back as his hips snapped forward. 

Chancing a glance down, his eyes glazed over at the sight of his dick glistening with your juices as it slid in and out of your pussy. The base held a white ring of your creamy release around it and the wet squelching sound filled the air with each motion. 

Letting the feel of your gushy walls hugging his length take over his body, Michael’s hips went into autopilot and as if he were recreating moves he’d performed on stage, they rolled and thrusted in time with your moans. 

This round was slow, deep love making. Your bodies were in sync with each other, both giving and taking pleasure from the other. 

Michael could feel the tight knot building in his sac and hitched your thigh up higher on his hip. His fingers around your throat, tightened just a fraction, he felt your pulse jump. 

“You close baby? Finish for me.” Ducking his head he licked the sweat gathering between your breasts.

“So close daddy, please.” The plea fell from your parched lips on a sigh. 

Sucking a nipple into his mouth, Michael gave a few deep thrusts before the band holding his release snapped and hot ropes of cum flooded your walls, splashing against your cervix. 

“Arrrgh, damn baby!” Groaning, he closed his eyes, letting the wave of ecstasy wash over him.

Michael’s release triggered your second orgasm and you tumbled over the cliff right along with him. Juices spilling over his semi-hard dick still slowly pumping inside you. 

“Ahhhh fuuuck….” The soft moan slipped free from your dry and scratchy throat. 

Hands resting on Michael’s back unfurled to lay slow , short strokes. Your thigh fell lazily to the side and your eyelids, heavy with exhaustion drooped. 

Leaving feather light kisses on your chest, Michael glided a hand over your side and squeezed your hip. 

“You good mama, still with me?” The tender loving tone returned. 

Eyes still closed, you nodded your head. 

“Damn baby.” Was all you had right now. 

Chuckling, Michael laid a chaste kiss to your cheek and slowly pulled his now softened member from your snug walls. Hissing from the lost connection, he gingerly removed his body from you and the bed. Walking into the ensuite bathroom, you heard water running. 

Returning a few minutes later, Michael cleaned you with the warm wash cloth and moved you to a clean section of the king sized bed. Tossing the cloth in the hamper, he returned to bed and gathered you into his arms. 

Linking your fingers together, you snuggled closer into Michael’s warmth, the last thought to enter your mind before sleep took you under was ‘How can I act up next time?’

✦────────────✦

Tag list: @wildpandorasky, @multifandomposts-blog, @brownsugarletters, @thebabykashmere, @pytafterdark, @bawdylanguageee, @xyahxo, @theonlyonlinefish, @loves2tour, @ttangerinexo

[1andonlytashae]

Blame It On The Brunch

Timeline: Mature Era

Pairing: Michael x black fem reader (wife)

Preview: Catching up with your sisters during brunch turns into a heated exchange between you and Michael.

Content: suggestive spice, drinking alcohol, pet names, takes place during 2006.

A/N: Got a bit carried away, 2.6k words this one ended up going in a completely different direction, but as always, I hope ya'll enjoy!

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It all started with a plan to meet up with your sisters for some much needed girl talk and to catch up with one another since it’d been a while when all four of you had been together. 

As the eldest you felt obligated to be the organizer and reached out to your siblings, coordinating each detail right down to the color theme for your outfits. Luckily enough as fate would have it, two of your sisters were available to fly into Los Angeles and the youngest in the crew was a resident like yourself.

The day started normal as usual, you’d told Michael of your plans a few days ago and he was excited for you to spend time with your sisters as he shared the same sentiments when it came to spending time with his siblings. 

Watching as you placed a pair of teardrop diamond studs in your ear, Michael was lounging on the bed, head resting in his hand propped up by an elbow. 

“I know you’ve been looking forward to this brunch for a minute baby, so I want you to enjoy yourself and not worry about a thing. My card is on your night stand and you’re gonna use it.” He insisted affectionately. 

A slow knowing grin tugged at the corner of your lips. Michael always wanted to spoil you, he’d made it known since the day you two officially became boyfriend/girlfriend and of course it was no exception that it continued when you two got married. 

“Of course dear.” You teased sarcastically. 

With a raised eyebrow and quirked lip Michael clucked his tongue. 

“Unt unh mama, don’t get cute. Now do the spin for me, I’m really loving this dress on you.” Michael hummed appreciatively. 

Slowly turning in a circle, you showed off the floor length white, fuchsia and goldenrod floral dress with criss cross halter neck you’d chosen for brunch. The back was cut low and showed off a portion of your lower back.

You’d chosen to wear your hair in a braided bun at the nape of your neck and a few strategically placed strands of hair left out. Not doing too much, you’d opted for a more natural look today and went for a light beat with a sharp brow, lashes and a cute lip combo you’d seen on Youtube. 

“Mmmm, come here baby, let me talk to you for a minute.” Michael commanded huskily as he now sat up fully on the bed, long legs spread wide. 

Propping a hand on your hip, you already knew the deal. 

“Nope, boy bye! You not finna mess up my hard work.” You lightly chuckled. 

Anytime a man uttered those words, they definitely DID NOT want to talk. 

Michael pouted and gave you the look, big brown doe eyes, downturned lip, fluttered lashes and just a sheen of wetness gathered in the corner of his eyes. He knew you couldn’t resist and set you up every time.

Huffing with no real heat in the gesture, you slowly crossed the distance of your shared bedroom to rest between his legs. Skimming his hands up your thighs over your dress, Michael came to rest on your back, pulling you closer to lean his forehead against your stomach. 

“You look so damn good girl, maybe I should keep you in the house and all to myself.” He groaned. 

Fingers stroking the strands of his layered tresses, you basked in the affection but only for a moment, lest you get caught in his web. 

“Soon as I get home, I’m all yours handsome and you can have your way with me.” You declared, hoping to placate him. 

Clutching your back, you felt his fingers stroke the smooth skin and caress the slight rolls there. An almost purr like sound rumbled through his throat as he continued his ministrations. 

“Baby, don’t start something you can’t finish now.” You warned shakily as you felt Michael pressing kisses to your stomach through the fabric of your garment. 

Grinning impishly, Michael dipped his fingers into the low draping and skimmed the top of your bare backside. Pulling back in surprise, his eyes began changing right before you. Gaze now darkening with heated desire, he dipped his hands as far as he could and squeezed. 

“So you just got my ass out, uncovered girl?” Michael growled with thinly veiled arousal dripping from his tone. 

Lightly shrugging while averting your gaze, you answered, “This dress and panty lines don’t mix boo.” 

Biting his lower lip, Michael was tempted to be petty and bend you over the nearest piece of furniture he could find and blow your back out, but he narrowly resisted temptation. Rubbing his elegant, talented and thickly veined hands over your ass, he loved how juicy and plump it felt. 

Michael was definitely an ass man and you had plenty to go round. Slowly perusing your form until his eyes met your gaze again, he wore an offended pout on his lovely lips. 

“Beauty, you’re lucky I’m a sentimental  family man, cause the way I wanna tear this dress off you and devour every inch of your body right now.” He released a wounded moan. 

Shivers immediately raced down your spine and your hands clutched his shoulders. Like magic, a spell was cast over your body and the stir of arousal began to take root in your core. There was no resistance when it came to Michael, you could never put up much fight. 

Swallowing the sudden lump in your throat, your voice took its time finding the path to your mouth. 

“Baby, you keep on and I’m gonna be late cause you can’t keep your dick in your pants.” 

“Shoot girl, that’s never stopped us before has it?” Michael replied with a wicked grin. 

Hands sliding over broad shoulders, up the column of his strong neck, coming to rest at their destination, cupping his cheeks. Lowering your face until you could brush the tip of your nose against his, you breathed in his signature scent. 

“Behave, you dirty old man.” You chuckled playfully and nipped at his bottom lip.

Pulling back appalled, in a show of faux shock, Michael removed his hands from your ass and clutched at imaginary pearls. Ever the dramatic one. 

“Old?!” He huffed in protest. 

“Come on drama king,” you grabbed his hand gently, but gave a firm tug to jumpstart his movement from the bed. “The soon you get me out the door, the sooner I’ll be back in your arms.” 

Michael reluctantly relinquished his place on the bed and followed after you like a wounded puppy. 

Grabbing your nude clutch, confirming you had everything of importance inside, including the now infamous black card that Michael never let you leave the house without, you were ready to meet your sisters and get brunch started.

Stomachs full, libations flowing and the keke session well underway, you’d call brunch a major success, especially by the way your loose lips were spilling tea all over the damn place. 

“Noooo, but have you ever had your man eat it from the back, while havin a plug in ya ass?! Girl let me tell yooou!” You cackled with wide glassy eyes and a lopsided buzzed grin. 

Shaniece, your middle sister tugged the champagne glass from your hand and safely tucked it away from you on her side of the table. 

“I’d say Tweety done had enough. Just telling all Michael’s business huh sis?” She giggled with a bit of side eye. 

Alcohol always had a way of loosening you up and drawing out a freer, more relaxed you. On the flip side it also brought out your talkative, horny and sleepy side also, right now thoughts of Michael having his way with you and using your body for his pleasure were in the driver’s seat. 

Pouting, you raised a single brow at your sister. “I know you ain’t talking, Ms. Flash the bartender during her bachelorette party last year.” 

She opened her mouth yet quickly closed it because what could she say, you were speaking nothing but facts. 

Feeling vindicated, you smirked and reclined back against the padded booth you sat in with your youngest sister. Bumping your shoulder against hers, you stole a pineapple from her plate. 

“Thanks sister, love you.” You poked your tongue out after swallowing the sweet morsel. 

She winked, blowing you a kiss in acknowledgement.

The vibration from your phone caught your attention, blindly reaching into the side pocket, you pulled the device free. Glancing down you saw a text from your husband. 

I wanna feel you. Taste you. Touch you. Enjoy yourself baby, I love you. 

Sweat dotted your forehead and cleavage, the space around you felt warmer and your kitty jumped at the sensual words on the screen. Plucking a napkin off the table, you dabbed at the perspiration on your skin. 

“Damn girl, that must’ve been some text you got. You good sis?” Danielle, the second oldest sister asked. 

Flustered, you felt a warmth spread across your cheeks. 

“Hand me that damn glass, I need another drink, Neicy.” You blurted at your sister. 

The table erupted in boisterous laughter and seconds later a fresh mimosa was placed in front of your awaiting hands. 

You were officially gone off the mimosas and feeling too good. Every nerve in your body was sensitive and felt alive. Your desire and horniness were kicked into high gear and you wanted Michael RIGHT NOW! 

“I gotta confess ya’ll. I’m hella drunk right now and ya big sister is feenin’ for her man.” You slurred with a silly lopsided grin. 

Digging through your purse, you closed your fingers around your cell and bringing it up towards your face, squinting you pressed the #2 button speed dialing Michael. 

Two rings later and the low raspy tone of your husband’s voice filled your ears. 

“Hello my love.” 

“Heyyy babyy!” You giggled a bit too hard. 

Michael shook his head and ran a hand over his face on the other end of the line. 

“You having fun Beauty, behaving yourself?” He chuckled. 

“The best *hiccup* time but I’m so horny and I want to climb you like a damn tree right now.” You purred a bit too loudly into the phone. 

Shocked gasps, cackling and catcalls rang out around the table.

“What am I gonna do wit c’hu mama? You keep on talking like that and I’m gone bend you over my knee.” Michael’s voice dipped low and husky. 

You could hear rustling papers in the background and a short moment later, a door closed. 

Moaning, you replied. “Is that a promise sir? Gonna tie me up too?” 

“Aht aht, what have I told you about talkin’ like that in public ‘round other people?” Michael scolded. 

Looking around the table at your sisters, two of them were just as drunk or buzzed as you were, one was just barely tipsy and preoccupied on her phone and the last sister was still somewhat sober. 

“I’m sorry baby, you know how I get when I drink. Forgive me?” You pouted and immediately turned on your seductive voice. 

“No, but daddy’s on the way and will get you straightened out. Sit tight for me Beauty, I’ll be there soon.” Michael instructed as he strutted out to his awaiting car and smoothly slid into the backseat. 

“Ooooh, ‘shamone’ then daddy!” You chuckled. Your liquid courage was strong right now, causing an immediate rush of boldness.

Michael pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it for a brief second as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. 

“Really girl?”

“Keep talking to me baby, you know I love the sound of your voice. My panties are ruined now.” 

The dam had broken and the temptress was released, you were done holding back, your sisters and being in public be damned. 

“Yeah, I’m lighting that ass up when we get home. You just don’t know how to behave. I’ll see you soon Beauty.”

Biting your lip, you groaned. “I can’t wait, love you daddy.” 

“Love you too mama.” Michael rasped and ended the call. 

Laying your phone down on the table, you looked around at the varying expressions and knew the comments were coming in 3,2,1.

“Girl, you freaky as hell.” 

“Get it sis, I ain’t mad at ya!” 

“Michael on the way ain’t he?” 

Holding the wide eyed, innocent expression for a brief moment, you couldn’t fool your sisters for long. Losing the battle, your cheeks warmed, a starry love sick expression took over your face and you grinned. 

“I’m married, so mind ya’ll business.” 

20 minutes later, there was a charge in the air and the hairs on your arm stood at attention. Without looking, you just knew Michael had entered the building, it was crazy how in tune with him you were. 

Confirming your assumption not a moment later, you felt a pair of strong and familiar hands caress your shoulders, before you felt his breath skim your cheek. Your nostrils were assaulted with the scent of cinnamon and Black Orchid by Tom Ford. 

“Hey Beauty, you ready baby?” Michael whispered.

Crossing your legs under the table to control the ache pressing on your core, you whimpered. 

“H-hi baby, you got here quick.” 

The dark chuckle he released vibrated so good against your skin. 

“Told you daddy was on the way. Tell your sisters you’ll see them later, we got business to tend to doll.” Michael pressed a kiss to your cheek and stood upright. 

“Ladies, I trust you had a good time catching up during brunch?” Michael inquired, amused as he glanced around the table at his sisters-in-law. 

They engaged in conversation with Michael as you gathered your clutch and swallowed a few gulps of water. 

“Alright my lovely sisters, I’ll call ya’ll later and we’ll plan a shopping trip for tomorrow.” You suggested.

Hem-hem, Michael cleared his throat with a pointed gaze and one raised brow above his aviators. 

Shyly gazing over your shoulder, you quickly turned back toward the table. 

“Day after tomorrow, will be better.” You stammered already knowing your husband had plans for you to be laid up in bed and legs out of commission. 

“Tweety, just call us when you allowed up for air girl.” Shaniece burst out laughing with a knowing side eye. 

Ducking your head and feeling the warmth radiating from your body, you averted your eyes in embarrassment. 

Love yous and see you laters rang out and Michael ushered you through the restaurant with a palm against your lower back. 

Once you both were safely seated in the waiting car, Michael pulled his sunglasses down to rest on the tip of his nose. 

Crowding you until your back was damn near pressed between the corner of the seat and the window, he rested a heavy hand on your thigh. 

“You know I love you right mama?” 

“Y-yess daddy.” 

“When we get home, I’m bout to fuck you like I don’t.” He growled, pressing a kiss against your forehead and pushing his glasses back into place. 

Instant arousal shot through you and mixed with the alcohol in your system, you damn near orgasmed right then and there. The whimper left your lips before your brain could comprehend. 

Michael’s hand on your thigh tightened slightly before his husky baritone filled the backseat. 

“Mhmmm, daddy’s gone take care of you soon.”

Clenching your thighs, resting your head back against the leather seat, you sent up a silent prayer asking for strength, cause you just knew Michael was bout to wear you out!

🩶⋆˚🔥˚⋆🩶🩶⋆˚🔥˚⋆🩶🩶⋆˚🔥˚⋆🩶

Tag list: @wildpandorasky, @thebabykashmere, @multifandomposts-blog, @bawdylanguageee, @brownsugarletters, @pytafterdark, @xyahx, @theonlyonlinefish

[brownsugarletters]

I had to see this first thing this morning so now y’all do too, sorry luv u 🌚🫶🏾

[proseandj]

but u shy though, right?

[jeahamkrle]

We don't talk enough about how FINE he was in the Leave Me Alone mv

[fangirlbot]

pls more perv otw mike !!! i LOVEDDDD your somno fic it was so so hot omg

thank you lovely!! im so easy for perv otw mike 😮‍💨 so here are some headcanons as him as your best friend ❤︎

bsf perv otw!michael who always wants to be around you. he’s just so infatuated with the way you have him under a spell. and he loves how you always hug him so tight, giving him a whiff of your sweet perfume that makes his head spin. he invites you over so much that there’s hardly a second you’re not at his house.

bsf perv otw!michael who especially loves when you spend time in his pool, trying his hardest to not start at how your soaking swimsuit clings to the curves on your body. he prays no one notices how he has to shift to adjust his achingly hard cock in his swim trunks. you’d splash him with water and giggle about how cute his curly wet hair looks & he nearly cums right there.

bsf perv otw!michael who loves and respects you so much! you’re his bestest friend ever! so he feels just a bit guilty when he snatches a pair of pink underwear from your sleepover bag while you’re in the shower. he felt even worse listening to the water run in the bathroom, imagining how the water fell over your body and wishing it was him instead. he couldn’t stop himself from palming his bulge through his pants with his ear pressed to the bathroom door. he was thankful that girls took so long showering, so he had time to jerk himself off with your underwear wrapped tightly around his cock. it didn’t take him long before he soaked your panties in his sticky cum with a groan.

bsf perv otw!michael who loves to spoil you with gifts and affection. he adores the smile that beams on your face each time you thank him for a new bottle of lipgloss or nail polish. “that color looks good on you.” he’d say, watching the applicator swipe across your plump lips. he thought about your lips a lot.

bsf perv otw!michael who kisses you and calls you ‘baby’ and ‘my girl’, telling you that was completely normal things for friends to do. and how could you not believe him when he held you so close and pressed soft kisses to your lips & neck? he made it really hard to say no to him which is how you two ended up in compromising positions sometimes:

“just gonna kiss right here.” he’d tell you, somehow between your legs. you nodded, in a daze from how his lips felt along your thighs. you gasped when he licked up your cunt and pressed a kiss to your clit. “mmh, tastes so good baby,” he whispered before connecting his mouth back to your wetness. you could only moan as he lapped at your cunt over and over again, only stopping to suck at your puffy clit. “feels—feels so good mikey, gonna cum,” you whined, fingers tangled into his soft afro. he hummed against your cunt, “do it, wanna feel it, wanna taste you.” before you came on his mouth, and he lapped and sucked on your heat through your orgasm.

bsf perv otw!michael who gets addicted to you, and will never let you go.

[blkkbratt]

Ok this sounds funny asl but a Jaafar x ex gf reader fic where there drama gets posted to twitter and she’s been spilling the tea. Jaafar finds out through his sister what she’s been saying and he’s had enough and goes to her apartment that he’s still paying for and fucks her up. Lots of smut and make reader pretend to play dumb.

Messy ass

🍫pairing: Jaafar Jackson x black reader!

🍫wc: 1.9k

🍫contains: explicit content, strong language, messy!reader, dom!Jaafar, sub!reader, thick! Reader, ex’s dynamic, toxic themes

🍫summary: Jaafar sees you been running your mouth on social media and telling y’all business. He’ll be damned if you continue disrespecting him!

Jaafar finally logged into social media after weeks of being offline. Notifications after notifications. Tags after tags. DM after DM. It was a nightmare.

If you were feeling some type of way, the Earth and the next planets over will know. So as he watched you ranting on Instagram live, typing tweet after tweet about the situation, he shouldn’t have been surprised.

“So….what are you gonna do?” His sister asked him. If it wasn’t for her Jaafar wouldn’t have known you were going on rants all over social media. He’s been so locked in with his acting career, he hasn’t paid any attention to the blogs.

“Clearly, I need to go exchange some words.” Jaafar shook his head, standing to grab his keys from the side table. It may not have been obvious on the outside but Jaafar was internally fuming.

Even while you both were together, it’s like you never knew when to act accordingly. If something didn’t go your way, everyone will catch hell for it. You also were an open book, if someone asked you a question, you were never one to lie.

Which is why millions were tuned into the ins and outs of you and Jaafar’s relationship even when you guys broke up. He would’ve expected you to have a bit of respect after he bought you your own apartment.

Hell, he still pays for it.

He drove in silence, already feeling irritated from the future conversation he’s about to have. He was in no rush at all, but the more he drove, all he could think about was the smile on your face as you practically slandered his name.

A few moments later, he finally arrived to the luxurious condo. He wasted no time to knock on your door, hearing the loud music of Partynextdoor float from inside.

He stood impatiently, ready to jack you up as soon as you opened the door.

Hearing the knocks, you thought nothing of it. Probably just a neighbor telling you to turn down the music. Hair stills wrapped in a bonnet, wearing your pink muumuu, you opened the door.

Imagine the surprise on your face seeing a seething Jaafar in front of you. Your jaw dropped, arm already pushing to close the door. Before you could even get an inch closer, he stopped the door with his foot.

His large hand pushed it the door open making you stumble back a bit. You know exactly why he’s here but maybe there’s a way you can get out of this. Right?

“So you’re gonna try and kick me out of the place I pay for?” He asked, walking in. His eyes raked over your outfit. God, he loved seeing you in a muumuu.

Your curves were so obvious to the eye but he fought against his desire, eyes glancing back to your face. “I—um—what are you doing here?” You asked him.

You backed away from him but he simply just continued walking towards you. He had on a crewneck but the sleeves were rolled up, showcasing his veiny arms.

Now that was something you missed for sure.

“You know damn well why I’m here. Your lil messy ass. Nobody needed to know you threw my clothes out the window.” You saw the stern look in his eyes as he finally backed you into a wall.

“Well…I didn’t tell anybody that so—.” You knew you were making it worse for yourself. You weren’t a liar….until the problem was confronting you in the face.

Specifically when it’s Jaafar.

If it was anybody else you would’ve stood on what you said. But this is Jaafar for crying out loud. The man who pays your bills, who still checks up on you even after you cussed him clean out. He actually knew how to put you in your place.

Your fingers tapped repeatedly against the loose fabric on your body, trying to distract yourself from the sudden interrogation.

“So now you wanna act dumb?” You could practically see his eye twitch. The tension was thick all around, it felt you were about to suffocate.

“Jafaar, can we talk about this another day? I’m just so tired.” You sighed, in hopes he would pity you.

“Tired? I can’t fucking tell the way you’re running your mouth all online.” You watched him roll his sleeves up farther, stopping right in the middle of his elbow. Clearly your false sulking didn’t work.

“Since you like to lie so much, come on.” He walked away, trailing to the couch. You don’t know if you should be scared or not but you still followed.

Maybe you’ll talk this out like actual adults….right?

•••

“I know you don’t wanna make a mess on the couch, tell me the truth and I’ll slow down.” He gritted through his teeth. His ring and middle finger pumped rapidly into you, thumb circling your clit as you laid on your back on the couch.

You hated how good he was at this. He had the utmost precision, being able to keep a steady pace. Your legs shook from the pleasurable waves that wouldn’t stop. Your Moomoo was bunched around your waist, showcasing your bare core.

Curse you for free balling around your own home.

You were already so sensitive especially after cumming twice already. He knows your body like the back of your hand and you tend to squirt during your third orgasm. Always.

Your hands flew to grip his veiny arm and it didn’t phase him one bit. “Jaafar—oh shit—I’m so sorry.” You whined while trying to close your legs.

He used his free hand to separate your thick thighs once again, adjusting his posture on the couch to lean closer to you. “I-I can’t,” you cried as his fingers curled inside of you.

“Yes, you can,” his voice was calm and steady, eyes trained on yours while sometimes glancing at the wet cream coming from you.

As he said you absolutely did NOT want to squirt on your new couch. Of course he knew it was freshly bought….you posted about it.

“Just admit it, baby.” He shrugged as if he didn’t have you losing your mind on his slender digits. “A-admit what?”

He was surprised at your resistance to the truth, but oh well more time for him. He let out an airy laugh at your response before letting a thick line of spit drop from his mouth.

You felt the warm splat as it landed directly on your clit, and he quickly rubbed it in. Oh my goodness, you were already wet enough, he may just be trying to kill you at this point.

“What are you so stubborn for? Just say the truth and maybe I’ll go fuck you upstairs.” That one like had you clenching around his fingers. You missed getting put through the mattress him by him so bad.

Feeling his fingers brush against your g-spot was enough of a wake up call. You were just that close to gushing all over the your burgundy velvet couch.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” You cried, head tossing back against the armrest. “For?” He hummed, tilting his head waiting for your answer.

You felt him slow down the torture and you breathed heavily. “I said it. I said all that stupid shit on Twitter and Instagram and TikTok,”

He thumb slowly rubbed your clit easing off the pressure. “I’ll be quiet, I’ll shut my mouth. Just fuck me please.” You whimpered.

He paused his movements, giving you an intensive stare. “You being for real?” His eyebrow raised and you nodded.

You were itching for his dick at this point, forget everything else. He pulled his fingers out, pink tongue flicking over them, a small “mmm” leaving his lips.

Jaafar scooped you in his arms and a small yelp fell from your lips. You don’t know what training he’s been doing but clearly it was working.

His arms held you up in the air, and carried you to the bedroom. The soft sheets rubbed against you once he laid you on the bed. You were so turned on, you thought you would’ve came just from that.

His hands spread your legs, raking over your messy core from the multiple orgasms. “Look at thattt.” His thumb swiped through your folds, going back to rub on your clit.

“Nngh.” You moans, closing your eyes in pleasure. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears, you were feinding for every inch of him.

Before you knew it, he turned you over, leaving you on all fours. The sounds of his zipper coming undone peaked your excitement.

He landed a smack on your ass making you gasp, another wave of arousal going through you. You jolted feeling the head of his tip rub against you with a small gasp.

Before you could beg, he slid inside of you. He wasted no time setting a rough pace making you melt around him. “J-Jaafar, s-so big.” You whimpered, hands gripping the sheets.

He let out an airy laugh, “I know you missed this dick, baby.” He grunted. You felt him press on your back till you were flat on your stomach, and he settled right on top of you.

His dick dug deeper inside of you making your eyes roll back. “Say hi, baby.” Your eyebrows furrowed and you forced your eyes back open, and gasped seeing your reflecting from his phone.

He used his free hand to cup your cheeks in one hand, picking up his pace forcing you to look at the camera. “Say you won’t do that shit again.”

“I-I won’t do it again.” You cried, voice cracking from his hard strokes. His hips clapped loudly against your ass, and he moved his hand from your cheeks to your throat.

“Do what?”

“I-fuck—I won’t—um,” you couldn’t even think of what you did. Your brain was going fuzzy, all you could think about was his body on top of you, digging in your guts.

“Say it.” He did a quick squeeze of your throat making you clench around him. “I won’t…spill our business—Nngh—pleaseee.” You were so close.

You were about to make the biggest mess. You should’ve gotten a freaking towel. “Spill our business where? You ain’t cumming till you say it.” He demanded, not slowing his thrusts.

That threat straightened you up real quick because you quite literally could not hold it for any longer. “I won’t tell our business on social media.” You whimpered.

“Now look at the camera while you squirt on my dick.” He whispered, only going harder. Just as he said you gushed all around him. You soaked your sheets, your Moomoo which couldn’t be held up any longer, and even Jaafar’s pants and shirt.

In the midst of your mind-numbing orgasm, he came inside of you, ropes of cum covering your walls while he moaned into your ear. His strokes slowed down as you shivered underneath him.

As he pulled out, he left a final smack on your ass. “I don’t wanna hear nothing about you running your mouth again. Go delete all them posts and tweets,”

Oh, he was serious.

“Play if you want to, this video gon’ be plastered online next,”

You couldn’t even respond, fighting the feeling to fall asleep. He shook his head once he saw you nonverbal and cleaned up for you. He was even kind enough to change your sheets—and throw your soaked muumuu in the washer.

Even though you get on his nerves, you were still his girl.

Taglist: @swavydadon, @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression, @delicate-ray-of-sunshine, @angelfacediary, @burrowsbaddie0609, @bigsisbria, @uh444, @savagenctzen, @syrndollie, @kissmyglxck, @backlikearash2, @strangeinyouuuu, @gogoyubari888, @4ngelonmars, @multifandomposts-blog, @tojiswifeforlife, @dollthoughtz, @bangchanunofficial, @killathrxlla, @starliqhtsworld, @imbetterinstereo, @brillionnillion, @tiredasfk, @freaky1nterlude, @softchaosdiary505, @superstar-t20, @crypytlc, @areaniee, @blacclotusss, @michaelsbabymother, @whyxo, @gingerrsnapp, @nobleumbrashrine, @theyluvchanel, @princesspluuto, @sayyoulovemeziya, @luxechaos, @prettygirlwmula, @veewhomismichaelspyt, @yeaiamme2, @pnd-luvr, @valentinaaaapple, @mrsjacks0nn, @anglfac, @missharper33, @joeburrowife, @xoxomjj

[youluvyanni]

lady in my life

summary: wedding day jitters and chaos

notes: in this tid bit randy have twin boys ( anthony and ayden , 6 ) just to cause some drama, this one is also kinda long…

5 days until the big day

something was wrong…something was very terribly wrong and it was your mission to find out

for the last three days, Randy had been disappearing into the home office after putting Anthony and Ayden to bed. Every night he’d stay in there for hours, refusing to tell you what he was doing.

At first you ignored it…then you got curious…now you were suspicious.

You quietly crept down the hallway and stopped at the partially open office door to see your fiancé, very soon to be husband sitting behind his desk looking at something on his computer and then writing something on a piece of paper

“the boys are sleep now” you said slowly walking closer “you gonna come to bed soon?” he quickly flipped over the paper her was writing on and closed multiple tabs

Randy shook his head and that mad you even more suspicious “is something bothering you, i hope it’s not cold feet” you joked and moved behind him and rested your hands on his shoulders, gently massaging them. “no. don’t worry about it” he replied in a cold tone

and paused what you were doing and stood up completely straight next to him “for the past three days you’ve been locked in this office, you haven’t come to bed with me, you barely said goodnight to the boys tonight.”

his eyes stayed glued to the screen.

“Randy.” Nothing. “Randy.” Still nothing.

“Steven Randall Jackson Jr are you even listening to me?” That finally got his attention, he glanced up at you before looking right back at the computer.

The dismissal made your stomach twist. You folded your arms across your chest.

“Wow.” “I’m busy right now.”

The words weren’t necessarily rude. But the tone? The tone definitely was.

You let out a short laugh and shook your head. “oh okay.” “y/n-” “No, it’s fine.” It very clearly wasn’t.

you walked toward the door. “since whatever’s happening in here is apparently more important than your fiancée, you can sleep on the couch tonight.”

his head snapped up. “Baby-“

Mission:

Completely unsuccessful.

4 days until the big day

you paced around the backyard patio phone to you ear hoping he would answer you and finally get some answers

“Jaafar.” “hey, what’s up?” he answered casually. “is Randy with you right now? “Nah.” you immediately relaxed. “But Jermajesty is. Why?” “Perfect.” Jaafar laughed and that one word told him everything. “What’s going on?”

You glanced over at the twins, who were currently running through the yard playing what they claimed was cops and robbers. To everyone else, it looked like two six-year-olds screaming and chasing each other in circles.

You lowered your voice. “He’s been distant for the past four days and I need to know if he’s getting cold feet or something.”

“you know randy can’t keep a secret” jaafar replied “exactly so why isn’t he telling me anything” the phone went silent for a moment “i can’t keep a secret either but what i can tell you and don’t tell randy i’m telling you this-“ “i won’t”

“i mean seriously it’s supposed to be a surprise like-“ “nigga stop beating around the bush” you whispered yelled into the phone, receiving a laugh from jermajesty in the background

“He’s working on his vows.” you froze. “What?” “His vows,” Jaafar repeated. “nd your wedding gift is gonna be big.”

The knot that had been sitting in your stomach for nearly a week immediately loosened.

“Oh my God.” “Nah, seriously,” he continued. “Like, hella big.” “How big?” “I can’t tell you without giving away details, but big enough that it’s gonna be hard to one-up him.”

you let out a sigh and smiled “okay good, thank you for that i’ve been tweaking out so much i made him sleep on the couch last night” you said with a chuckle “we know” jaafar and jermajesty said in unison “he told y’all” “of course he did” you heard from jermajesty

“oops”

1 day until the big day

you, randy and the boys took a stroll around the vineyard where the wedding would take place

“So,” you smiled, looking down at the twins walking between you and Randy, “what flavor do you think the wedding cake is?”

“well daddy like chocolate and you strawberry shortcake soooo both!” anthony said “What do you think, Ayden?”

Usually, Ayden would’ve had an opinion and sually, he’d correct Anthony or come up with something completely different.

Instead…

“i dunno” he said shrugging, Ayden was obviously the more calm, quiet and introverted twin despite being 4 minutes older but the answer he gave felt different

“you know you two have a big job on the wedding” randy started trying to lighten the mood “You’ll be carrying Mommy and Daddy’s wedding rings.”

Anthony gasped. “The real rings?” “The real rings,” Randy confirmed. “So you gotta be extra careful.” “I’ll do way better than Ayden,” Anthony said confidently. “I’ll be faster.” anthony said, you looked at ayden, he’ll usually have a smart comeback when it came to his brother teasing him but he didn’t this time

he silently looked ahead at the path the four of you were walking on, you looked at randy with a concerned look and he did the same

“you feeling okay buddy?” he asked, ayden nodded

later that night

The rehearsal had gone almost perfectly…almost

You stood beside Randy at the altar, your fingers intertwined as everyone practiced tomorrow’s ceremony one last time.

The music began and both of you smiled toward the entrance.

Anthony came walking down the aisle proudly, carrying the small ivory pillow but…he was alone…ayden nowhere in sight

“ant, where’s your brother?” randy asked, anthony stopped in his tracks and turned around and turned back around and shrugged

you looked around and then at jermajesty and jaafar “weren’t you two with them last?” jaafar looked down and jermajesty suddenly looked interested in the sky

“watch him!” Randy said pointing at anthony’s before letting your hand go he ran back inside to the vineyard’s mansion to look for the twin and you ran back inside with him

The vineyard wasn’t just a vineyard.

Connected to it was a massive mansion where the wedding party was staying six bedrooms, a ballroom, a game room, a library, a pool room, endless hallways…Far too many places for a six-year-old to disappear.

You and Randy split up at the grand staircase “Check upstairs!” he shouted.

“Ayden!” you yelled as you sprinted down one hallway. “Ayden!”

From somewhere else in the mansion, Randy’s voice echoed through the halls. “AYDEN!”

No answer.…only silence.

You turned another corner, your heart pounding against your chest. “Ayden!” you called again, your voice beginning to crack.

Nothing.

Just as you were about to search another room, Randy rounded the opposite end of the hallway his breathing as heavy as yours

“Anything?” he asked and you shook your head. “No.” “I checked every room downstairs.” he replied “I checked all the bedrooms on this side.”

The two of you stood there for a second, both trying to think then you heard a quiet sniffle.

“…Did you hear that?” Randy nodded.

Another muffled cry.

It was faint, almost like someone was trying not to be heard. The sound was coming from one of the guest rooms.

The two of you rushed inside.

The room looked untouched and bed was perfectly made, the curtains swayed gently from the open balcony door. you looked around in confusion until Randy slowly lowered himself to one knee.

“there you are…” you quickly joined him on the floor.

urled up beneath the bed, hugging his knees tightly to his chest, was Ayden his little cheeks were stained with tears.

“Ayden…”

you reached your hand under the bed.

“there you are, baby.”

he immediately scooted farther back.

“No.”

your heart shattered.

“no?” “I don’t wanna come out.”

Randy laid on the floor beside you, trying to peek underneath.

“hey, buddy.” Ayden refused to look at either of you. “what happened?” Randy asked softly. “did somebody say something to you?” he shook his head

“did you get hurt?” he shook his head again

You exchanged worried glances.

“what is it then?” you whispered now crawling under the bed yourself, randy doing the same

“I don’t like the wedding.” he sniffled “you…don’t?” you asked and he shook his head again “I don’t want y’all to get married.”

“why not?” randy asked carefully, Ayden’s little voice trembled.

“’cause…” He wiped his face with his sleeve “y’all already Mommy and Daddy..hou already kiss…you already live together and you already love each other.”

his big eyes were filled with tears “so…why do you need a wedding?”

your eyes immediately began to sting so ou crawled a little closer.

“Oh, sweetheart…” you said

“I don’t get it.”

“what made you think about all this?” randy questioned

Ayden hesitated then the question he’d been carrying around all day finally came out.

“If you marry Mommy…are you gonna love her more than me?”

the room fell quiet

you felt your heart break into a million piece “Oh, baby…” “No,” Randy answered immediately.

“So…you won’t wanna play with me anymore?” “No.” “You won’t watch cartoons with us?” “Never.”

“You won’t carry me ‘cause you’re married?”

Randy couldn’t help but smile through the tears gathering in his own eyes.

“I’ll probably still carry you even when you’re bigger than me.”

a tiny smile almost appeared before disappearing again.

“You promise?” “I promise.”

Ayden looked over at you.

“what about you mommy?”

“my sweet boy…”

you squeezed his little hand.

“the wedding doesn’t make Daddy love me more.” “It doesn’t?” you smiled at him through watery eyes. “no.”

you looked over at Randy before looking back at your son. “It just lets everyone else celebrate the love we’ve had for a long time” “the same love that gave us you and Anthony.”

“and no matter what happens tomorrow…” Randy finished your sentence. “…nothing will ever make us stop being your mommy and daddy first.”

Ayden looked at the two of you

“So…” he started and sniffled one last time “…we’re still gonna have movie night?” Randy laughed, the tension finally breaking.

“every Friday.” “and pancakes?” “every Saturday.”

“and cops and robbers?” Randy held out his pinky “as long as you promise not to tackle me as hard as last time.”

a tiny giggle escaped Ayden’s lips and It was the first smile you’d seen from him all day Slowly, he crawled out from underneath the bed and the two of you followed

you and randy kneeled down and hugged the little boy “I was scared.” Randy kissed the top of his head. “I know, buddy.”

“and next time you’re scared,” you whispered, brushing his curls back from his forehead, “you don’t have to hide.” “You can always tell us.”

Ayden nodded against your shoulder “…Okay.”

Just then, Anthony burst into the doorway.

“There you are!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been looking everywhere!” Ayden looked up at his brother.

“Sorry.” Anthony shrugged like it was no big deal.

“It’s okay.” Then he grinned. “if you hide tomorrow take me with you”

Ayden rolled his eyes for what felt like the first time all day “your not good at hiding”

Randy chuckled quietly, relieved to hear his son’s usual attitude return you leaned into Randy’s side, watching the twins bicker as they walked out of the room together.

the big day

The room was quiet.

No wedding planner, no bridesmaids, no laughter echoing through the suite…Just you.

You sat in front of the large floor-length mirror, your wedding gown cascading around the chair like white satin spilling onto the hardwood floor.

Your bouquet rested gently in your lap.

For a long moment, you simply stared at your reflection.

This was it, the moment you’d dreamed about for years. Not because you needed a wedding to prove your love for Randy. You’d already built a home together. You’d already weathered the sleepless nights, the first steps, scraped knees, bedtime stories, and six wonderful years of raising Anthony and Ayden side by side.

You were already a family. Today wasn’t about becoming one. Today was about celebrating the one you’d already created.

A soft smile found your lips.

You looked down at the bouquet in your hands before gently brushing your thumb across the ribbon wrapped around the stems.

You took one deep breath in and one slow breath out.

“You ready?”

Your father’s voice came from the doorway. You looked over your shoulder and smiled.

“I am.” He walked over and offered his arm.

“You look beautiful.”Your eyes watered instantly “Don’t make me cry before I even get down the aisle.”

He chuckled, kissing your forehead before leading you out of the bridal suite.

The walk to the ceremony felt surreal, every step brought you closer to Randy..closer to forever.

Soon, the two of you stood behind the grand ivory curtains at the entrance of the vineyard.

Beyond the fabric, you could hear the quiet chatter of your guests settling into their seats.

Then…silence.

The quartet lifted their instruments then the first delicate notes of a symphonic arrangement of “At Last” by Etta James drifted through the air.

Your heart immediately began to race.

Your father gently squeezed your hand.

“You’ve got this.”

You nodded, unable to trust your voice.

The curtains slowly parted, the golden afternoon sunlight poured into the aisle, rows of smiling faces turned toward you.

And at the very end of the aisle…

There he was.

Randy…your soon to be husband

Standing at the altar with tears already gathering in his eyes.

The moment he saw you, the rest of the world seemed to disappear.

For him…there was only you.

For a moment, Randy forgot how to breathe.

Every conversation, eery late-night phone call, every laugh, every argument, every milestone, every memory.

It all led to this.

His eyes followed you as you took your first step down the aisle.

The corners of his mouth lifted into the softest smile as tears gathered in his eyes.

“Damn…” Jaafar whispered beside him, nudging his shoulder. “Don’t start crying yet.”

“I’m trying not to” Randy muttered with a shaky laugh but a tear escaped anyway and then another.

He quickly wiped beneath his eyes, but it was useless.

The second your eyes met his, his composure completely disappeared.

You smiled through your own tears.

There he was. The man who’d loved you through every version of yourself. The father of your children.Your best friend. Your safe place.

You couldn’t stop smiling as your father slowly escorted you the rest of the way down the aisle.

When you finally reached the altar, Randy stepped forward before the officiant could even say a word.

He took your bouquet with trembling hands before giving it to your maid of honor.

Then he reached for both of your hands. “You look…” he laughed through another tear. “…You look so beautiful.”

You giggled, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“You’ve already cried.”

“I know.”

“You said you weren’t gonna cry.”

“I lied.”

The guests laughed softly.

Your father kissed your forehead one last time before placing your hand into Randy’s.

“Take good care of my little girl.” Randy nodded without hesitation. “I always will.” Your father smiled before taking his seat. the officiant cleared his throat with a grin.

“I think we’re finally ready.”

The ceremony began.

The officiant spoke about love, about commitment, about choosing each other every single day.

You found yourself barely hearing the words. You were too busy looking at Randy And he was too busy looking at you.

Nothing else seemed to exist.

“At this time,” the officiant said with a smile, “may we have the rings?”

Every guest turned toward the back of the aisle.

Anthony and Ayden stood proudly side by side in their matching little suits.

Anthony held the ivory pillow with the rings tied securely on top.

“do we go?” Anthony whispered.

Ayden nodded. “go!”

The music changed ever so slightly as the twins started their important walk.

Anthony, determined to impress everyone, whispered loudly,

“I’m gonna be faster than you.”

Before Ayden could answer…Anthony hurried forward…and immediately caught the toe of his dress shoe on the aisle runner.

He stumbled forward, the ring pillow flying up into the air before landing safely in his arms as he hit one knee.

The entire vineyard gasped.

Then…Anthony looked up with wide eyes.

“I’m fine!”

A wave of relieved laughter spread through the guests.

Ayden hurried over instead of continuing without him.

“You good?”

Anthony nodded sheepishly.

“Yeah…”

Without saying another word, Ayden reached down and helped pull his brother back onto his feet.

Anthony dusted off his little jacket before looking at him.

The guests collectively let out an audible “Aww…”

Even the officiant chuckled.

Randy wiped away another tear.

“Oh, man…”

You looked over at him. “Now you’re crying because of them?” He laughed.

The twins continued the rest of the way together. This time, Anthony slowed down.

The moment they reached the altar, they proudly presented the pillow.

“We did it!” Anthony announced. “Told you we’d be careful,” Ayden added.

Randy crouched down in front of them. “you did perfect.”

He wrapped an arm around each of them, pulling them into a quick hug.

“So perfect,” he whispered, “that I think y’all just stole the whole wedding.”

Anthony beamed. “I know.”

The guests laughed once more as the twins proudly took their seats, still whispering to each other about Anthony’s “cool save.”

You looked at Randy and smiled.

The officiant smiled as he looked between the two of you.

“Now that the rings have been exchanged, it’s time for the vows.”

Your stomach fluttered. This was the part you’d been thinking about for months.

You took a shaky breath before unfolding the small piece of paper you’d rewritten more times than you could count.

Looking at Randy, you smiled through the tears already welling in your eyes.

“Randy…I’ve tried writing these vows a hundred different ways, and somehow none of them ever felt good enough.”

A soft laugh rippled through the guests.

“How do you put into words what it feels like to spend your life with your best friend?”

You paused, your eyes never leaving his.

“You’ve loved me on the days I felt beautiful and on the days I couldn’t even recognize myself. You’ve celebrated every victory with me, no matter how small, and you’ve held me together through every moment I thought I was falling apart.”

Your voice began to tremble.

“You’ve shown me what patience looks like… what grace looks like… what unconditional love looks like.”

You glanced over at Anthony and Ayden.

“Watching you become a father has been the greatest privilege of my life.”

The twins smiled proudly.

“You’ve taught our boys what kindness looks like. You’ve taught them what respect looks like. And most importantly…You’ve taught them what it means to love someone completely.”

Randy quickly looked down, trying to hide the tears spilling onto his cheeks.

You smiled.

“I knew I loved you long before today. I loved you when we stayed up until three in the morning talking about nothing. I loved you when we became parents and had absolutely no idea what we were doing.”

A few guests laughed knowingly.

“I loved you through the sleepless nights…the hard conversations…the chaos…the milestones…the ordinary tuesdays that somehow became my favorite days simply because they were spent with you.”

Your voice cracked.

“And I know I’ll love you when we’re old and gray, arguing over which one of us forgot where we put the tv remote.”

More laughter echoed throughout the vineyard.

“So today…I don’t promise perfection.”

“I promise honesty, forgiveness, to keep choosing you, even on the hard days.I promise to keep dancing with you in the kitchen, to laugh with you, to grow with you, to remind you every single day that you are loved beyond words.”

You gently squeezed his hands.

“And if Anthony and Ayden ever grow up and ask me what true love looks like…I’ll simply point to you.”

A tear slid down your cheek.

“Because in every lifetime…It will always be you…Steven Randall Jackson JrI love you.”

The vineyard erupted into soft sniffles as you folded your vows back up.

Randy stood completely still, crying too hard to speak.

Jaafar quietly leaned over “Get it together.”

“I’m trying,” Randy whispered with a watery laugh.

The officiant smiled warmly. “Randy… whenever you’re ready.”

He chuckled, wiping beneath both eyes “I should’ve gone first.”

The guests laughed and unfolded his own paper before looking directly into your eyes.

“y/n…my uncle Michael has a song called Lady in My Life.”

A few knowing smiles spread throughout the audience.

“When I was younger, I used to think it was just another love song.”

He smiled softly.

“But as I got older and as I fell in love with you…I realized it wasn’t…It was about finding the person who feels like home, the person you choose every single day, the person you can’t imagine doing life without.”

He reached up to wipe another tear from his cheek.

“And that’s you. You’ve always been the lady in my life.”

The title alone made your lip quiver.

“You gave me a family., you gave me two incredible little boys who somehow look exactly like me…” Anthony grinned proudly. “…thank God they act like you.”

Laughter filled the ceremony.

“You’ve loved me through my mistakes, you’ve believed in me when I struggled to believe in myself, you’ve made every house we’ve ever lived in feel like home and you’ve turned ordinary moments into memories I’ll cherish forever.”

He took a deep breath.

“I love the way you laugh, I love how you dance around the kitchen, I love the way you somehow always know when something’s wrong before I say a word, I love the life we’ve built and I love that after all these years…I still get butterflies every time you walk into a room.”

His voice cracked.

“You asked me once if I was getting cold feet.”

The guests chuckled.

“The truth is…I wasn’t scared to marry you, I was scared that nothing I could plan… no surprise, no gift, no vows… would ever be enough to show you how much I love you.”

He smiled through tears.

“But maybe I don’t have to find perfect words, maybe all I have to do is spend the rest of my life showing you. So I promise to keep choosing you, to protect your heart, to grow old with you, to love you louder on the days you struggle to love yourself, to keep being the best father I can be to our boys and to never stop reminding you…you’ve always been…and you’ll always be…the lady in my life.”

By the time he finished, there wasn’t a dry eye in the vineyard, even the officiant had discreetly reached for a tissue.

You laughed through your tears as Randy gently rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you” he whispered. “I love you more” you whispered back.

The officiant cleared his throat with a smile “I think everyone here has been waiting long enough.” the guests laughed softly as he looked at the two of you.

“By the power vested in me, it is my honor and privilege to pronounce you husband and wife.”

A wave of cheers erupted throughout the vineyard.

Randy couldn’t stop smiling and neither could you.

The officiant looked between the two of you with a grin.

“Randy…”

He didn’t even let him finish Randy cupped your face so gently it was as if you were made of glass.

“You may kiss your bride.”

The words had barely left the officiant’s mouth before Randy closed the distance between you.

His lips met yours in a slow, tender kiss.

The crowd exploded into applause, whistles, and cheers.

You smiled against Randy’s lips before the two of you pulled away, resting your foreheads together.

“Husband,” you whispered with a giggle “Wife,” he replied, his smile somehow growing even wider.

The officiant laughed softly “It is my great pleasure to present to you all for the very first time…”

He paused as the guests rose to their feet.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jackson.”

The applause only grew louder as Randy intertwined his fingers with yours.

some time later..

the lights inside the reception hall softened until the room glowed with nothing but candlelight and the warm twinkle of crystal chandeliers

the chatter slowly died down and every guest turned toward the center of the dance floor

the DJ smiled into the microphone

“please welcome, for the very first time, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson”

thunderous applause filled the room

Randy extended his hand toward you with a grin “may I have this dance, Mrs. Jackson?”

you looked down at your new wedding band before slipping your hand into his “you may.”

as he led you to the center of the dance floor, the opening notes of “Lady in My Life” filled the room.

a chorus of soft awws spread through the guests.

“really?” you whispered, Randy shrugged innocently “i figured it was only right”

he wrapped one arm around your waist while your other hand rested comfortably on his shoulders and your fingers intertwined

“we did it” you whispered making Randy let out a quiet laugh “we did”

slowly, the two of you began swaying together, moving across the dance floor

“you know…i’ve been waiting to call you my wife all day,” Randy admitted “i’ve been practicing signing my new last name”

“oh yeah?” “Mhm, it looks pretty.”

he laughed “well…i guess we’re stuck with each other now” you raised an eyebrow “oh, now we’re stuck?” “very stuck”

the two of you laughed together before settling back into a comfortable silence.

you rested your head against his chest, his heartbeat was steady beneath your ear.

“i love this song” you murmured “me too” “I used to listen to it and wonder what it would feel like to have someone love me like that”

Randy gently lifted your chin until your eyes met his “and now?” you smiled, your eyes beginning to water again “now I’m dancing with him.”

he closed his eyes for a brief second, trying to stop himself from crying again “you’ve been making me cry all day” “you cried before I even made it down the aisle” “you looked so beautiful” “Randy you always say that” “because it’s always true”

your fingers absentmindedly traced the back of his hand

“you know what my favorite part of today was?” “what?” “you” he chuckled “that’s not really a part” “it is to me”

be leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead “when I told everyone you’d always be the lady in my life…” he said quietly “i meant every word.”

you looked up at him “and no matter how many years pass…no matter how many gray hairs we get…no matter how many grandbabies Anthony and Ayden give us…you’ll still be the first person I look for in every room”

tears slipped down your cheeks.

“i’ll still choose you” “every day?” “every single day”

the music continued to play as Randy slowly spun you beneath his arm, your dress fanned out around you before you landed back against his chest, laughing.

at the edge of the dance floor, Anthony tugged on Ayden’s sleeve “what?”

“one day i’m gonna marry somebody like Mommy”

Ayden watched the two of you swaying together before quietly smiling

“me too”

around the room, family members wiped away tears while others smiled at the scene unfolding before them

the reception buzzed with conversation as everyone settled into their seats for dinner, crystal glasses clinked together and laughter echoed throughout the vineyard

Anthony and Ayden were sitting between the two of you, proudly telling anyone who would listen about how they “saved the wedding” after Anthony’s dramatic trip down the aisle

“I told y’all I caught the pillow,” Anthony said with a mouth full of mashed potatoes,Ayden rolled his eyes “you only caught it because I helped you up” “i would’ve got up anyway”

as everyone continued eating, Randy quietly stood from his chair

he tapped his champagne glass with a spoon

Clink Clink Clink.

the room gradually fell silent as every pair of eyes landed on him

he smiled nervously before looking over at you “If I could steal everyone’s attention for just a minute…” he reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket “i already gave my vows earlier today…but there’s one more thing I wanted to do”

you tilted your head curiously and he pulled out a small white envelope.

“I’ve known you for a long time, you’ve never been the type to ask me for expensive gifts, never cared about jewelry, designer bags…or any of that…if you did you bought it yourself”

he smiled “but there has always been one thing you’ve dreamed about.”

your brows furrowed and he held the envelope out toward you

“open it baby”

the guests watched in anticipation as you carefully opened the envelope, inside was a key fob

“…Randy?”

you turned it over in your hand,your eyes widened

“no…”

you looked back up at him

“this isn’t…”

he nodded with the biggest smile.

“it is”

your hands immediately flew to your mouth

“no way..”

“you’ve talked about that car for years, you’d point it out every single time one drove by.”

“‘one day,’” he imitated your voice with a grin, “‘I’m gonna have one of those.’”

laughter filled the room as you looked back down at the key, still trying to process what was happening

“Randy…”

he reached into his pocket again “and since I know you…you’re probably wondering if it’s leased.” he pulled out another envelope.“so here’s the title”

you stared at him “it’s…” he nodded “paid off, completely.” he walked over and gently placed the paperwork in your hands “and it’s in your name.”

you slowly looked down at the title, then back at him, then back at the title again.

the tears came instantly

“oh my god…”

you couldn’t even finish the sentence, you stood up so quickly your chair nearly tipped over before throwing your arms around his neck.

“You are absolutely insane,” you cried into his shoulder “you bought me my dream car?” “i did.” “you paid it off?” “Mhm.” “it’s…mine?” “every last bit of it”

you pulled back just enough to look at him “you didn’t have to do that” “I wanted to”

he gently wiped a tear from your cheek

“you’ve spent years putting everyone else first..me, our boys and our family so i wanted to give you something that was just for you.”

you laughed through your tears. “I don’t even know what to say” he smiled “you don’t have to say anything”

you grabbed his face between your hands.

“I love you so much” “I love you more”

tags 🏷️ @unseenleylinesecret @vict-oryy @hip-hop-star-4 @blkkbratt @pinkjollyrancher54 @dollthoughtz @commaanders @anglfac @doleuia @missharper33 @siighrns @jermajestysbaby @enzo6ekiiii @nvhdesire @niyahctrl @mikaylajacksonnn @callmelyriic @sintizc @humannaturess @whyxo @loluaintvalentine

[angelfacediary]

haii could you do thriller michael and a reader who is a singer and a model and is more successful than michael ( or on the same level ) and both fighting for number one with their songs but the reader is a bitch when michael tries to be nice and they have unresolved ( one sided) beef from the 70s ( jacksons era mike) during an interview with the reader about being more famous than the jackson and she says rude stuff and he holds a grudge against her but he has a massive crush on her and secretly watches her music videos in private and like time skip to thriller where it’s the 1984 grammys but they have to do this magazine photoshoot thing to promote it and they both hate each others guts. time skip to the grammys and both of them get eight grammys and the reader is angry. ( and a plot twist happens i guess )

( could you also try include smut if you can & sorry if it doesn’t make sense)

݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆ Not so friendly fire • thriller!Michael x reader

⤷ ゛Synopsis ˎˊ˗ You and Michael hated each other, and everyone knew it, until the Grammys night after-party brought you two unexpectedly closer.

𑣲⋆ warnings : ur a bitch ngl. Virgin mike. You taking the lead. P in v. Unprotected sex.

Riah's note ! : this is genuinely the longest thing ive ever written and I love how it came out, so hopefully you guys love it just as much as I do !

The year was 1979, and child star Michael Jackson had just released his first solo album. It played nonstop everywhere you went. Girls lined up at every record store in hopes of snatching the last vinyl from the shelves as they scrambled towards the once full shelves, disappointment flashing across their faces as they did the walk of shame towards the door, hoping that maybe the store in the town over would have it.

You were on your way to your second interview of the day, your eyes looking out the window. The outside world was barely seen through the heavy tint of the window that kept you hidden inside the heavy metal doors as you rolled down the street. Your freshly manicured nails tapped against the armrest as you finally reached the studio.

It was known that you dominated the charts and the fashion scene; it was hard for even top artists to get a number one album with you around.

The lights were heavy against your face, nearly blinding you as you tried your best to blink away the white spots that took over your vision as you looked over at the interviewer.

“Michael Jackson just came out with his first solo album. How do you feel about you being more successful than him, despite being in the industry less time and being the same age?” she asked, smiling at you, waiting for an answer as the cameras rolled, broadcasting that grainy texture that was fine for the time.

“Like Jackson Five Michael?” You laughed before continuing. “He's a cute little opening act, but it's very clear that I dominate the charts, and you know, I don't compete with opening acts. I mean, you don’t see him on the cover of Vogue either, do you? He's adorable though,” you relaxed back in your cushioned seat.

Unbeknownst to you, twenty-year-old Michael sat in front of his TV screen, looking at you like you'd hung the moon and the stars one by one. His hand clutched one of the magazines you were on the cover of; one of your CDs from his personal collection sat on the ground next to him. He was both angry yet intrigued by you somehow, and though he was beyond offended, he was still enticed by you.

Maybe that was just the effect you had on people despite your shitty attitude.

Fast forward to present day. Michael Jackson, the guy who sang hit songs of the time like "I'll Be There," "I Want You Back," "Don’t Stop 'Til You Get Enough," "Rock with You," and now most recently: "Thriller." But your main problem was the fact that both of your songs were fighting for the number one spot and the fact that it was Michael who you were fighting with. But you should have expected it with the fame he had from all his eras leading up to "Thriller," and though you were way more popular than him, you were still pissed. In fact, that number one spot should've been yours all the way, considering the fans all over that you'd accumulated through your years of making music, not to mention the modeling gigs that you had lined up for months in advance, including the shoot with Michael to promote the '84 Grammys.

The Grammys wanted to see their views climb, and the fans wanted to finally see the two most recognized artists in the world in one shot, so there you were at the Rolling Stone shooting that both of your PR teams forced you to be at in spite of you two hating each other's guts.

The set was beyond lively, the lights blared against the shoot, the crew ran around fixing the lighting and your outfits. Everyone was excited to work with the two biggest stars of the time.

“Michael, don't step on the dress!” you snapped at him, the tip of his shoe just barely nudging the edge of your dress, ruffling the fabric slightly.

“I'm barely touching it, stop being a baby!” he raised his hands up, acting as though he was so annoyed, but in reality, he was beyond excited to be near you.

“Okay, you two, let's get this over with so we all stop hearing this bickering,” the photographer spoke, angling her camera perfectly, attempting to catch the perfect shot.

“You heard her,” Michael whispered quietly enough that you were the only one who heard that slick comment.

“Whatever, just do what you're here for,” you bit back harshly. “You're only here because I'm carrying the cover.”

“Let's let the votes decide that on Grammy night,” the remark was smooth as he adjusted his tie, getting back into position.

“This isn't going to work,” the photographer looked at the images again, shaking her head. “I need you guys to scoot closer and act like you don't hate each other! Ah, perfect!” she snapped another photo, admiring the shot.

It was a few more hours of being in close proximity to the person you hated most, your eyes and head hurting from the giant lights that brightened the room as you stretched out your limbs, completely ready to take the restricting dress off and change into something less restricting as you headed towards your manager.

“See you Grammy night,” Michael smirked, walking past you and out the door. You hated that gorgeous smirk and how cocky he was no matter what room he was in, and it annoyed you completely. Actually, it did more than annoy you; it completely pissed you off.

Grammy night was beyond hectic, the constant flashes of light bearing down on your face as you smiled on the red carpet, full of other nominees as they chatted with each other, excitement buzzing in the air. The gorgeous updo that you had your hair in was perfect, matching with a silk ivory dress that made you look like an angel that fell down just for this night. The heels you wore were perfect, clicking across the floor as the hem of your dress swept against the carpet.

You looked unreal, angelic, and everyone knew it, especially Michael as his eyes drifted off to where you were standing. Even though in the public eye you were enemies, hated each other's guts, and though Michael didn't speak too much on it, it wasn't his style, but you? You were more than vocal on how much you despised him.

While Michael was nominated for twelve categories, you were nominated for just one more, making it one of the most anticipated Grammy nights in history. People were desperate to see who would take home the most Grammys in one night between the two of you as everyone sat in their seats, whirling with excitement. You sat in the front row, chatting with a few other celebrities, the lights dimming as a familiar voice, one you knew sounded familiar, spoke the opening monologue.

As the night went on, you became increasingly frustrated with the fact that Michael was following close behind in the amount of wins.

One, then two, then suddenly the count was tied with you, coming to a whopping eight Grammys. Each time he stepped up to the mic, he made sure to wink at you. The cameras instinctively moved in to see if there was a change in your facial expressions, a bitter smile playing out on your face that very few would be able to see through.

By the end of the night, you'd both cradled eight Grammys in your arms, a smile plastered all over Michael's face behind the blacked-out aviators as he smiled for the pictures, but you were pissed. You were supposed to be the winner tonight, not both of you. So there you were, a strained smile spread across your face, cradling the eight hard-earned Grammys you'd won like it was a baby you tried so hard not to wake.

It was even worse at the after-party. People swarmed the two of you, constantly asking how you felt about eight Grammys as the music blasted heavily through the speakers in the dim lights. Colored rays of light streamed through the air as the heat from everyone's body made the room feel immediately hot and stuffy. Your head started to hurt from the constant pounding of noise and questions that hounded you, taking a second to step out into the February night.

The sounds of the nightlife spilled out from the building. There was something about the dark night sky, stars that twinkled, illuminating them with the dim light as you took another deep breath. Sure, on the outside you were cocky and overconfident for a good reason, considering the fact that you were used to being on top, people all over rushed to catch your attention, pulling you every which way for photo shoots and performances. But deep down, it was nice to have someone who understood the pressure of being perfect all the time, even if it was your worst enemy.

"Hey," the sound of the door closing and that familiar voice, taking your attention away from the night sky. For once, you stopped to think if you should snap at him with a slick remark or if you should just be normal for once.

"People are looking for you." He stood next to you, hands dug in the pockets of his trousers, his eyes too focused on you, the occasional golden beam of light veiling over the two of you. It was a rare moment of silence, silence where there were no flashes of cameras, no yelling of paparazzi, no one there to ask you how you felt.

Just you and Michael.

“You feelin' all right?” Concern took over his voice; he looked anxiously between you and the road.

“I'm fine, Michael.”

“Oh, okay.”

Another moment of silence washed over you. The nightly sounds taking over the conversation as you stepped side to side.

“Y'know, I've always been a fan of you,” he laughed before continuing. “I kept up with you like you were the most important thing in my life. Then I saw that interview of you calling me an opening act and… I felt some kind of way, kind of angry, but I couldn't be mad because I was so obsessed with you.” The words fell out uncontrollably, falling into the almost empty night air.

"Yeah? I didn't know you felt like that," you shuffled, heels snapping against the concrete.

"Yeah, I've always thought you were gorgeous, hoping I'd have the opportunity to be close to you, but you always seemed to have something against me." He turned to face you as you stepped closer, your bodies nearly touching as you turned to face him.

"If I really hated you, would I still be standing here? And I sure as hell wouldn't be standing this close to you," you spoke, poking a finger at his chest, feeling his heart's heavy rhythmic beating under your finger.

"What? So you don't hate me?"

"Of course not. In fact, I admire you, how well you handle the pressure of the world." You leaned in closer, the warmth from your glossy lips radiating, only making the urge to press his lips against yours more heavy.

"I wanna kiss you," he murmured nervously, despite that cocky exterior.

"Do it then," you spoke like you were daring him before the feeling of warmth enveloped your lips, fingers instinctively intertwining with his own gloved hand.

Everything after that was a blur, from you two in the back of your car, lips sloppily connecting with each other as you made your way back to your penthouse, Michael feeling so bad that he ended up tipping your driver hundreds just for what he had to endure.

The heavy elevators slammed shut, the two of you barely making it inside without tearing each other apart, lips mashing together again, more desperate this time as the two of you could barely contain the excitement that whirled through the stuffy elevator before the ding of you reaching your floor caught your attention. The sound of the heavy door parting, revealing your penthouse, and the smell of you taking over his senses completely.

Your heels were the first thing to come off, the ache that was pinging through your heels easing from the sudden pressure that was being released from your shoes being tossed near the door before a trail of clothes led up to the door of your bedroom, your dress being the last thing to go as you slipped it down, revealing the perfect set underneath that made Michael's jaw go slack and his underwear grow tighter by the second.

"I-I've never done anything like this." The words came out nervously, despite the fact that he was on top of you, arms caging you in as you lay down against the plush sheets of your bed.

“What?” To be honest, you were a little shocked hearing that, and considering the fact that he was such a ladies' man and that he had Brooke Shields hanging on his arm all night, you were almost sure he'd at least have some kind of experience.

"Is… that okay?” You nodded slowly, sitting up on your elbows.

“Sit on the edge of the bed," you spoke, watching as he followed your orders, scooting closer to the edge of the bed as you slipped down to your knees, your finger intertwining with the waistband of the underwear, nudging it down and encouraging him to lift his hips as you slipped it down to his ankles, watching as his dick sprung against his stomach.

“Let me take care of you, okay? " you cooed, letting your fingers wrap around his shaft. The familiar leak of precum coating the sensitive head, your thumb rubbing over the slit. The warmth from your hands sent Michael in a spiral; his body felt hot, hands covering his mouth, worried that the lewd sound that threatened to slip from his throat would be too loud as he felt your hands slide up and down in a slow, teasing motion that made his hips buck instinctively.

“Oh…” he groaned, tossing his head back, soaking in every little bit of your pretty hands running against him.

“Is that good?” You murmured, slightly speeding up the pace.

“Mhm, more than good." His eyes were just barely open, looking at your eyes that peered up at him through his lashes, gasping at the sudden gush of sensitivity that washed over him, the sensitivity that was building up in his dick, which was so intense that he wasn't sure what to do with it.

He kept one hand on your head, the other planted into the mattress, keeping him up right.

“Wait, wait," he moaned out, his hips bucking up into your hand. “What's wrong?” You stopped in your tracks, filling your face as you shifted on your knees, the soft carpet saving your knees from the pain of the floor.

“It's not you, I promise. I just want to feel you, Mama."

It wasn't long before your bra and panties were tossed somewhere in your room. Michael was in between your legs as you lay on your back, too eager to feel your walls against him as you kept your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his lips, soaking up the feeling of him pressing inside your entrance, earning a moan from the both of you as he rocked his hips slowly, trying his best not to seem desperate for you.

“Is this okay?” He was nearly breathless. The only thing he wanted to do was bury himself inside of your walls as you cried out his name.

“Please, Michael," you whined, rolling your hips in a circle in order to get some kind of friction before he moved gently, each thrust accompanied by the wet squelching and skin slapping as you grasped at his back, manicured nails digging into his skin that went unnoticed because of the fact that he was way too deep inside you to care.

"Mike, you're doing so good, just like that." Everything felt way too much; the heat between your bodies made everything way too hot. A thin layer of sweat spread across the two. Your once neat updo is completely run ragged by you repeatedly tossing your head back against the pillows. The rest of your limbs were wrapped around Michael like he was the last thing you'd be able to touch.

His rhythmic thrusts became sloppy, mixed with the sensitivity of his previous near-orgasm, and the way he was pumping in and out of you now almost made him dizzy as your walls clenched around him.

“I can't s'good," he whined, continuing the sporadic movement of his thrusts. Michael didn't know much about sex, but he did know a few tricks from his years of hearing his brothers talk about all the girls they'd hooked up with. Taking that knowledge, he slid a hand that was once used to cage you in down to your clit, rubbing gentle circles, your body lurching forward in slow waves of pleasure as you rolled your hips.

“Fuck—” You were so close; everything was so, so hot, makeup running down your cheeks from the tears that kept falling through your already hazy vision.

"Michaell," you huffed out. Your body convulsed around him as you bit your bottom lip, nearly drawing blood from how hard you were biting down on it, as you gripped the sheets, making your knuckles hurt. Michael, on the other hand, was in pure bliss, somehow just barely managing to pull out, spurts of his cum leaking out onto your stomach as he caught his breath.

"Are you okay?” You laughed at his dazed face, eyes that seemed unfocused, glazed over, and mind clearly too fogged up to even think properly.

“Hm? Yeah, yeah."

“You sure?"

“Yeah, I mean, I'm here spending Grammy night with you, so I'm more than fine."

"Ugh, don't be cheesy."

“What? I thought I was being romantic or somethin”

“Yeah, no."

Taglist :

@blkkbratt @tinydreamerpillar @luvingkiku @animegamerfox @loveposiie @2young4ublog @rlm-11 @kaiomii @shamonemjshamone @applesbby @yourleogf @pixieelixer-24 @michaelssparklysocks @bellaswanreincarnated4 @5ecret4rt @swavydadon @saiyajvn @tojiswifeforlife @kryka83 @devynrulesboisdrool @galacticpurpl3 @michealwife @michaelsgirlie @commaanders @muchluv4mj @mariet-eva

[siighrns]

Could you do a pt2 of the fic were jermajesty is crying because he thinks your gonna leave him?

CRYBABY. part two.

೯ warning: smut ( mdni ), p in v, edging, hayati means my life, arab reader intended.

"please..." he whispered, his voice cracking. "don't leave."

whether you stayed or walked away was entirely your choice.

his eyes were red and puffy as he looked at you with nothing but desperation. the thought of losing you made his chest ache. after everything that had happened, after the way he had acted, he couldn't blame you if you decided you had enough.

your expression softened, a small frown tugging at your lips. letting out a quiet sigh, you stepped closer and gently cupped his face. your thumb brushed across his damp cheek, carefully wiping away the tears that refused to stop falling.

"oh hayati," you murmured, your voice gentle despite the ache in your chest. you paused for a moment, searching his tear-filled eyes. "i'm not going to leave you, but..."

the relief that had washed over his face disappeared almost instantly. his shoulders tensed, his brows pulled together, and confusion settled over his features as he clung to that one word.

but.

“i’ll do anything. i’m so, so sorry, baby.”

jermajesty's words tumbled out one after another, his voice shaky and uneven as he apologized over and over again. every sentence blended into the next, desperate to make you believe him, desperate to keep you from walking away. tears clung to his lashes, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths as panic settled deeper into his bones.

before you could react, he slowly lowered himself until he was on his knees in front of you.

he looked completely broken.

his eyes searched yours, silently begging for another chance before his lips even formed the words. his hands hovered near yours, too afraid to touch you without permission, as if one wrong move would be enough to make you disappear.

you didn't know what was wrong with you, or if it was simply everything that had happened crashing down at once, but the sight of him like this made your heart race. seeing someone who was always so confident, so stubborn, reduced to pleading at your feet sent a rush of butterflies through your stomach.

it should have made you feel powerful. instead, it left you flustered, your thoughts tangling together as warmth crept across your face. the desperation in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him together, stirred something inside you that you couldn't quite explain.

you reached down and gently tilted his chin up, your thumb brushing over his soft bottom lip. a quiet sigh slipped past your lips as you looked into his big brown eyes.

"i forgive you," you murmured softly, your voice finally losing its edge. "but i'm not letting you off that easily."

a small smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, making his breath catch. jermajesty nodded so fast it was almost pathetic, relief washing over his face. he didn't care what came next as long as you weren't walking away. all he wanted was to feel your touch again, to know you were still there with him.

you pushed him onto his back and climbed over him. his cock was already hard and twitching against his stomach. you wrapped your fingers around it, lined it up with your pussy, and sank down in one slow motion. he gasped and his hands flew up instinctively, but you caught his wrists and pinned them to the floor above his head.

"no touching," you told him. "none at all."

you started to ride him, rolling your hips in steady circles. every time he tried to thrust up you tightened your grip on his wrists and pressed down harder. his face flushed and his mouth fell open as he watched your body move on top of him. sweat gathered at his temples while you took what you wanted, using his cock for your own pleasure.

"mmmfuck," he moaned, voice cracking. "please... please let me move. i need it so bad."

you ignored him and kept your pace exactly the same, grinding down slow and deep. his cock throbbed inside you, pulsing with every roll of your hips, but you never let him thrust or touch.

"please," he begged again, hips twitching uselessly under you. "i'm so close... just a little faster, please.”

you slowed even more, barely moving now, letting his cock sit deep while your walls squeezed him in lazy pulses. his whole body shook. "no, no, don't stop like that," he whimpered, eyes glassy.

you held him there, right on the edge, clenching around him without giving him the friction he needed. every time his breathing hitched like he might tip over, you stopped completely, keeping him trapped and desperate.

"fuck, please," he sobbed, wrists straining under your hands. "i'm right there... don't edge me again, i can't handle it."

you came first with a loud moan, clenching around him hard while he lay helpless and denied beneath you. his cock jerked inside your spasming pussy but you gave him nothing, no movement, no release. only after your orgasm faded did you finally release his wrists and slide off, leaving him aching, untouched, and still begging.

“you’re forgiven now.”

you slowly lifted yourself and stepped away, a satisfied smirk settling onto your lips, not even sparing him a glance.

taglist: @redemptioninthe4ethers @jermajestysbaby @michcarrillo02-blog @invinor @strawberrykittymp3 @saintwrld @youluvyanni @melaninjoys @0ffth3walll @mikedotorg @uh444 @j3nnyluvscupc4k3s @kisssmethrudaphone @maczken @areaniee @fawn4u1nonly @princesspluuto @nistxrr @vict-oryy @narratedillusions @looenx @anglfac @tenderlyboundlessparagon @king-mila @bonni-98 @plan3tch1ld @syrndollie @heartstofiiveunknownn @michaelsgirlie @yearlyjams ( if you were not tagged pls lmk & i will update !! )

[faiology]

imagine a sleepover w/ nerd maj. you have a wet dream about him while you’re in the same bed. you reach for him in your sleep and you quickl realize that it’s real life 🤭

ᥫ᭡ fai speaks: finally getting around to clearing out my reqs. y’all, i’m trying with the smut fr LOL, im cringing internally but i hope yall enjoyyyy

you and jermajesty had been friends for a while now. you met through a mutual friend. over time, you grew so close it was crazy. texting throughout the day, on facetime all night, soon came the random hangouts. sleepovers weren’t even unnatural for the two of you.

but this new crush you’d developed on him? was.

you weren't blind. you saw the way he looked at you. you noticed the way he licked his lips that one morning when you reached for something in the top cabinet and your silk nightgown raised up just a little bit.

you felt the way his hand lingered on the small of your back whenever y'all walked through crowded spaces, or how his hands gripped your waist to guide you when he moved past you. and you definitely remembered that time you were at a function, and started dancing on him. he had leaned down, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered, "chill, i’m easy."

you had just laughed it off back then. because you were just friends. right? friends held hands. friends cuddled. friends slept in the same bed. that’s what you kept telling yourself, over and over, trying to force your brain to believe it.

you tried your hardest to push all thoughts of him out of your head before he came over. he had planned a movie night since obsessed had finally hit streaming platforms.

you tried not to think about how good he looked when his jawline was rough with stubble because he was growing out his goatee again. you tried not to think about how much you wanted to bite those thick biceps, or how badly you wanted to taste his soft, pink, pillowy lips.

you tried. you really did.

but as the movie credits started rolling in your dark bedroom, it became damn near impossible. jermajesty was fast asleep, heavy and warm against you. his head was resting right on your chest, dangerously close to your neck. hearing the soft, steady sound of his breathing against your skin made your chest tight.

eventually, you closed your eyes and drifted into a sleep of your own, hoping a nap would help stop the aching between your legs. oh, but you were so wrong. because the second your eyes closed, your mind took you right back to him, and you started dreaming about exactly what jermajesty could do to you.

in the dream, you’re wearing the same silk nightgown. the champagne colored one you wore because you know he likes it. his fingers are tracing the hem. lifting it higher and higher.

your hips move before your conscious mind catches up.

it’s a subtle thing at first. just a slow shuffle backwards. the kind of motion your body remembers from solo nights with your vibrator between your thighs.

the friction is blocked by layers of fabric but it’s there. enough to make your breathing change. enough to make the ache between your legs pulse.

“maj,” you breathe.

the word slips out before you can stop it, thick with sleep.

his body tenses behind you and his eyes snap open.

for a second, he’s disoriented. the ceiling fan spinning lazy circles, the blue glow of the tv casting shadows across the room. then he feels it. your ass pressed against him, grinding.

a sound escapes your lips, making his dick twitch in his sweats, blood rushing south so fast it leaves him lightheaded.

“jermajesty.”

his name. you’re saying his name. in your sleep. while your hips work against him in a rhythm that’s getting less subtle by the second.

he should wake you up.

he knows he should wake you up.

but then you whimper, a high, breathy sound that goes straight to his dick—and his hand is moving before his brain can even tell him not to. his palm finds your hip and rests there.

“maj, baby,” you murmur, still asleep. still dreaming.

he raised himself up on one elbow, looking down at you. your lashes are fanned against your cheeks. your lips are slightly parted. the thin strap of your nightgown slipping off your shoulder.

fuck.

he’s been attracted to you since he met you. he’s just never been man enough to do anything about it. he’s was too scared of ruining the friendship. too convinced you didn’t see him that way. but now you’re moaning his name in your sleep and your hips are moving like you’re trying to fuck yourself back against him.

his hand slides from your hip to the hem of your nightgown. slowly, giving you time to wake up. giving himself time to come to his senses.

neither of you does, btw.

the air hits your exposed thighs and you shiver, pressing back harder. he can feel the heat of you through your panties. his fingers trace the waistband of your panties lightly.

you don’t stir. your breathing stays deep and even, but your hips stutter when his thumb brushes the sensitive skin just beneath the elastic.

he moves the fabric aside.

the first touch is barely there—just the pad of his middle finger, tracing the seam of you. he circles your clit gently and your whole body reacts. your hips buck forward like you’re chasing the pressure, then back. directly against his dick, which is straining so hard against his sweats now that it’s almost painful.

“fuck,” he breathes against your hair. “you have no idea.”

he continues the slow circles. steady pressure. he watches your face. the way your brow furrows, the way your mouth falls open a little wider. your breathing hitches again when he increases the speed, just slightly, just enough to make your thighs tense.

“fuck baby,” you moan.

and this time, your eyes fly open.

reality crashes in all at once. his fingers are inside you. two of them, curled just right, stroking that spot that makes your vision blur at the edges. his other arm is snaked around your torso, pinning you against his chest, and his fingers are working your nipple through the silk, rolling and pinching.

this is real. this is actually happening.

“maj—oh.”

your head falls back against his shoulder as your mouth opens. his fingers pumping inside you, his other hand torturing your nipple—is too much and it’s not enough. and at the same time, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

“you’re dripping,” he murmurs directly into your ear. his voice is wrecked. low and rough in a way you’ve never heard it. “been dreaming about me, mama?”

you can’t form words. your hips are rolling to meet his thrusts now, fucking yourself on his fingers like you were doing in your sleep. the wet sounds filling the room are obscene.

“tell me to stop,” he says. his fingers slow. “tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop.”

“don’t stop.” your voice breaks. “baby, please don’t stop.”

he groans against your neck and his fingers push back inside you, three this time, stretching you in a way that makes you gasp and grip his forearm.

“you’re so sexy,” he breathes. still pumping. “you drive me crazy, you know that? you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this.”

your back arches. your hips buck. his name is a prayer you keep repeating, over and over, each thrust of his fingers pushing you closer.

“maj, please.”

“please what, baby?”

“fuck me. please fuck me.”

he takes away his fingers but before you can complain, he’s bringing them to your lips. shiny with your own slick, glistening in the tv light.

your mouth opens and his fingers slide past your lips and you taste yourself on his skin. you suck them clean, tongue lapping between his knuckles, eyes fluttering shut at the intimacy of it.

“shit,” he hisses. “you’re gonna kill me.”

then his hand is on your jaw, turning your face toward his, and his mouth crashes against yours.

the kiss is nothing like you imagined. it’s not gentle. it’s not hesitant. it’s teeth and tongue and the desperate press of lips that have wanted this for too long. his hand tightens on your jaw, angling your head so he can go deeper, and you moan into his mouth and grip the back of his neck and pull him closer, but somehow it still isn’t close enough.

when he breaks the kiss, you’re both breathing like you’ve run a marathon.

he helps you wrestle your gown off, tossing it somewhere into the dark. his sweats follow. boxers too. then he’s moving, positioning himself between your legs, and you can finally see him.

all of him.

the tip slick and flushed, pressed against your stomach as he leans over you. his chest is heaving.

“you sure?” he asks, giving you one last out.

“i’ve never been more sure of anything.”

he kisses you again. softer this time. then his hands are on your hips, dragging you down the mattress, positioning you beneath him like you weigh nothing. he reaches between your bodies, gripping himself, running the head of his cock through your wetness. one. twice. rubbing himself against your clit on the third pass until your thighs shake.

“fuck, mama,” he groans, looking down at where your bodies almost meet. “this pussy’s so wet.”

the words hit you low in your belly. you’ve heard him say wild things before but this is different. this is him talking to you.

he pushes in.

slow. inch by inch. stretching you out so good that your mouth drops open and your nails dig into his shoulders and every thought in your head dissolves into static.

“look at me,” he says.

you didn’t realize your eyes had closed.

they open and his face is above you, jaw tight, sweat already beading at his temple. he’s holding himself back—you can feel it in the tremor of his arms.

“there you go,” he breathes. his forehead drops to yours. “there you go. look at me, mama.“

he bottoms out.

a shudder passes through both of you.

his mouth seals over yours and he begins to move.

the kiss swallows your moans as he fucks into you. deep strokes. slow at first, because he’s savoring it. your head falls back but his lips chase yours, refusing to let the kiss break for more than a heartbeat. his hips roll. your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his back, pulling him deeper.

you let out a moan when he thrusts harder, hitting a spot that makes sparks pop behind your eyes.

“right there,” you whimper. “baby, right there, please—”

his hand slides down your thigh, hiking your leg higher over his arm. the new angle is devastating. every stroke now drags against your g-spot, him pulsing with each squeeze of your walls around him.

the sounds in the room are filthy. skin slapping skin. the wet suck of you pulling him back in each time he withdraws. his name tumbling from your lips in a chant that’s getting louder, needier, less coherent.

“you close?” he pants.

“yes. yes, maj.”

“let me feel it. come on, mama, i got you.”

his thumb finds your clit.

your body obeys before your brain catches up.

the orgasm hits you like a wave. your back arches off the mattress. your nails rake down his back. a sound tears from your throat that you’ve never made before, something between a sob and his name.

he fucks you through it. chasing his own high now, rhythm stuttering, moans catching in his chest.

“where—” he grunts. “where do you want—”

“inside. cum inside me—”

a groan rips from his chest. his hips slam forward one last time and you feel him pulse. his face buried in the crook of your neck, his teeth sinking into the sensitive skin where your shoulder meets your throat, and he rides out the aftershocks with little thrusts that make you both gasp.

for a long moment, neither of you moves.

his weight is crushing you in the best way. you can feel his heartbeat hammering against your chest—or maybe that’s yours.

he lifts his head. his eyes finding yours.

“you’re not gonna wake up tomorrow and pretend this was just a dream, are you?”

your hand comes up to cup his jaw. you run your thumb over his bottom lip, swollen from kissing. “you’re still inside me, maj. i’m pretty sure I’m not dreaming.”

he laughs. low and breathless. then he kisses you—soft this time. tender. a kiss that makes your stomach swoop in a way that’s entirely different from the sex.

he pulls out slowly. then he rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re draped across his chest, and his hand comes up to stroke your hair.

“we should talk about this,” he murmurs.

“probably.”

silence settles over the room. comfortable again. his fingers trace patterns on your spine. your breathing steadies.

“but not right now.”

“not right now,” you agree.

[syrndollie]

meet nerdy roommate!jermajesty

jermajesty j. jackson. “jer/maj/sunshine”. pre-law student. twenty-three. listens to chase atlantic, deftones, TV girl, cigarettes after sex lover, bryson tiller, brent friyaz + more. introverted. loves orchids, chrysanthemums, and peonies. dr pepper connoisseur. has a soft spot for his roommate (aka you). heartthrob, lowkey a manwhore. can play the guitar + can sing. needs his glasses but never wears them. highly obsessed with mcu and disney. lowkey scared of horror movies. sometimes smoke’s weed. has a thing for making you flustered. can solve a Rubiks cube in under 30 seconds. swears he hates Queen Charlotte/Bridgerton but gets caught crying over it. got into anime because of you <3. lowkey a gym rat. can go on and on about FNAF, bendy and the ink machine, and resident evil. he definitely likes you but he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship.

Author’s Note: been fighting migraines left and right, wasn’t the original post—i’ll make it up soon🫤.

[syrndollie]

new character alert: nerdy roommate!jermajesty

that picture with him golfing makes my mind spin😫. idk, I didn’t proofread or check for mistakes.

just imagine that you’re a pre-med student, you’re sitting at the kitchen table, revising some of your notes for organic chemistry. you’ve been revising your notes for at least two and a half hours and you we’re growing tired. “maybe becoming a stripper isn’t too bad of an idea.” you spoke to yourself.

“you said that you have too many morals to become one.” the sudden appearance of your roommates voice caught you by surprise, making you jump harshly in your seat, clutching at your shirt. “damnit Jermajesty you scared the hell out of”—your voice got caught in your throat as you looked up to glance at the man.

the first thing that grasped your attention was his hair, it was gone. his head that was once full of gorgeous curl was gone, he had cut his hair into a buzz cut—your eyes started to travel across his face, slightly gawking at his perfect face; clear of any blemishes, a small goatee growing in that was making your heart beat like crazy, and a black pair of sunglasses that made him ten times more attractive. but what really got you was the way he was dressed—golfing attire. the loose fitting red collared shirt that showed off the lower part of his thick, veiny arms that you wish were wrapped around you like snake; his white shorts showed off a small part of his thick thighs, and showing off his yummy calf muscles. the man was screaming sex appeal and it definitely didn’t make it no better at the way his right hand gripped at the golf bag, showing off the veins in his large hand.

the sound of your phone going off snapped you out of the trance that consumed you making subtly jump. you cleared your throat before speaking, “so uh, you going golfing?” you mentally rolled your eyes for asking the stupid question knowing the answer was dead in your face. “yea. me, my brothers, and a couple of our friends decided to get together.” Jermajesty was walking towards the entrance area, slipping his feet into his shoes. “well, have fun. I’ll be here sulking in misery for this stupid ass midterm.” you groaned out, slowly slouching in your seat.

Jermajesty just stared at you with a grin on his face, amused by your dramatics. “you do know you can take a break, right?” he turned to grab his car keys from the key rack. “I know that maj but this is my second time taking organic chemistry, I can’t fail again.” a small pout fell across your face. he turned to look at you with a hint of pity in his expression. “ at least take a twenty to thirty minute break, mama, eat and drink something because I know you.” his expression of pity was replaced with a mean side eye, emphasizing the word and—the last time you studied for your midterms, you went two days without any thing to eat or drink. “okay maj, I hear you.” you could feel your face heat up at the pet name that casually fell out his mouth.

a small grin reappeared on his face after hearing you say you would. “good.” there was a brief moment of silence, he opened the door before speaking again. “so uh, I’ll see you later. if we go anywhere else, I’ll bring you something back.” you nodded your head in acknowledgement. “be safe.” “always.” the noise of Jermajesty shutting the door faintly filled the room before silence took over.

you let out of breath you didn’t even know you were holding in as you stood up to take a break—that’s when you felt how your panties stuck to you, you let out a loud groan, grateful that Jermajesty was no longer here.

“one simple conversation got me all hot and bothered, I should be ashamed.”

[mikedotorg]

STRUCK BY YOUR BEAUTY !

— IN WHICH, michael is at the party held for him after his album “Thriller” became a hit. but instead of basking in the spotlight, he is only focused on the beautiful girl his sisters invited.

— fluffy tbf, mikey has a crush and is working on asking women out!

His song boomed in the house, everyone lively and drinking—occasionally coming up to michael and showing love to his new album. He felt on top of the world and all of the above.

but he paused at the soft sound of a melodic laugh—his eyes following the source.

and his eyes bulge.

a woman stood with his sisters, her white top, jeans, and some kitten heels. She was glowing—like a beacon of light. Who was this woman?

He looks around, trying to find his brothers, he spots marlon and walks over to him. “Whats up mikey, or should i say, best selling artist!” he wraps a arm around michaels shoulder with a grin.

he smiles shyly. “Thanks marlon, hey, who is that girl over there?” Marlon looks at the place hes pointing, whistling in approval. “Woo, shes hot.” Michael shakes his head at his brothers joke.

“i.. want that girl. But..” “Cmon! go to her, don’t be shy.” He insists, gripping michaels shoulders. “Jus’ go up to her, ask for her name and things like that, it aint that hard.”

Michael blows out a stressed breath, glancing over in your direction. He could do this right?

He makes his way over to you, ignoring Marlons shouted words in encouragement. Hes a nutcase i swear.

You were leaning against the counter with a drink in your hand, chatting with his sister La Toya, he swallows hard and steps into the kitchen. “There he is! the man of the hour!” la toya claps excitedly.

he smiles at his sister and then looks at you, hoping you would give him the same praise.

you straighten and offer him a dazzling smile—he almost fainted right there. “Congratulations michael, your album is amazing.” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “T-Thanks..”

La toya raises a brow before smirking. “Ill leave you two to introduce yourselves, i need to find Rebbie!” she chirps and scurries out the kitchen.

“Its nice to meet you, especially after hearing Toya speaking about you and hearing your music.” You take a sip of your drink and he watches you, stuck on what to say to a girl with a face like yours.

He shakes his head to snap out of his stupor, letting out a nervous laugh. “Yeah.. i poured my heart into that album, needed a rebrand y’know?” you nod in understanding.

“Uh, whats your name?” He asks, shoving his hands in his pockets to hide the tremors. “Oh im sorry! my name is yn.” he hums. “Thats a nice name..”

you grin. “Thanks.” you glance up at the clock hanging over the kitchen doorway and click your tongue. “Gosh, its late already? i need to get going.”

“W-Wait!” he grasps your wrist, then quickly releases it with an embarrassed look. “I-… want to get to know you more and possibly go out sometime, if thats alright?” your eyes widen.

The michael jackson was asking you out? The boy whos album was currently playing everywhere?

“I-i yeah! of course.. uh, you can ask Toya for my number, ill be sure to answer so we can set up a date.” he nods eagerly with a smile. “Yeah! for sure.. uhm, bye yn, drive safe.”

“Bye michael.”

He stood there watching you walk away into the crowd—his eyes practically heart shaped. No way that worked.

After a minute of going over the whole conversation, he rushed to find his sister, needing to get your number immediately.

tags: @yourleogf @michcarrillo02-blog @princesspluuto @whimsihoe @myah4livz @jermajestysbaby @0-n-1-x @pixieelixer-24 @4ppl3h34d @fairydustdiary @theraynecries

[whatapyt]

⋆₊˚ just relax

thriller!michael x fem!reader

⤷ in which ... you cant sleep and your boyfriend michael helps you out

⤷ warnings! ... MDNI!!!! - smut, fluff, established relationship, fingering, clit play, use of y/n, pretty girl, mama, baby - not proofread!

⤷ word count ... 0.4k

The moonlight shines through our bedroom window, casting a shadow of the branches outside. I lie awake as my boyfriend sleeps soundly to the right of me. I toss and turn, trying to get comfortable, but eventually just throw my arm over my face in frustration. I look over at the clock, 3:16 am.

“Mikey?” I mutter as I shake him awake gently.

“Mmmhmm?” He replies deeply, his eyes fluttering open.

“What is it, baby?” He adds, propping himself up on his elbows, looking at me while rubbing his face with his hand.

“I can’t sleep,” I whine softly.

“You can’t sleep?” He repeats, his eyes softening slightly.

I nod my head in response.

“Come here,” he says and gestures to me.

I turn around and cuddle back into him so he is spooning me.

His right hand snakes down my stomach before slipping underneath my baby pink nightgown and dipping into my panties. His left arm is underneath me, his hand resting on my stomach over the fabric of my nightgown.

“Relax, y/n,” he whispers in my ear as his fingers collect my wetness, circling around my entrance. I nod.

“Let me take care of you,” he continues as his middle and ring finger move up to my clit, circling it gently.

“Mmmmm,” I hum in satisfaction, his fingers speed up slightly, his lips finding my neck.

His middle finger slides down my wetness and slowly inside me, making me whimper quietly.

“Yeah, that’s it, pretty girl,” he whispers, his finger curling inside me before adding his ring finger in too.

I moan, my head leaning back and resting against his left shoulder and my hips grind down onto his hand.

He chuckles softly, his fingers speeding up.

“Oh, Mikey!” I whine, my right hand reaching up to pull his head gently into my neck and my other holding his free hand.

“Just feel it, mama; that’s right.” his palm hits my clit with every thrust and curl of his fingers as he kisses my neck.

“I-I’m gonna cum, baby… please don’t stop,” I beg, my fingers threading into his hair and my hips grinding.

“Go ahead, cum for me,” he mumbles into my ear; his pace quickens impossibly. He uses his free hand to reach down and rub my clit.

“Oh yes! Michael!” I exclaim, cumming around his fingers as continures to suck my neck.

He keeps thrusting his fingers to help me ride it out. After, he removes them, licking them clean.

“Feeling better?” He asks, stroking my hair.

“Mhm” I hum, closing my eyes and settling into his embrace.

“Love you,” he murmurs and nuzzles his face in my neck.

“I love you too, baby.” I smile softly, closing my eyes and finally drifting off to sleep.

I write other things then just smut i promise lol, anyways hope you enjoyed this small blurb!

[cupcakeprincezz]

more jealous mike PLZZZ 🙏 you write him so well 🌝

your wish is my command ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ hope you enjoy this doll (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

♡₊˚ 🏆・₊✧𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐲, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

♡ song of the year wasn't the only thing michael planned on claiming that night. ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ thrad!era ⟡ michael jackson x presenter!fem!reader

FEBRUARY 25, 1986

you stand backstage at the 28th annual grammy awards with the soft hum of the audience drifting through the curtains like a warm tide, the air buzzing with the kind of electricity that only nights like this can hold, and you breathe in slowly as you go over your lines for the third time, whispering them under your breath while your fingers trace the cue cards even though you already know every word by heart, your pulse steady but alert because you want everything to be perfect, not just for the show but because you know he is somewhere out there in the crowd watching you with those dark eyes that always make your stomach flutter, and the thought alone sends a quiet warmth through your chest as you straighten your posture and prepare to step into the lights.

the stage manager gives you a gentle nod and you walk out into the golden glow of the auditorium, the applause rising like a wave that washes over you as you smile at the sea of faces, the cameras, the glittering gowns and tuxedos, the shimmering set pieces that catch the light like jewels, and you let your voice carry with practiced grace as you welcome everyone, your tone warm and confident even though your heart is beating a little faster than usual because you know he is somewhere in the audience listening to every word. "good evening everyone and welcome to the twenty eighth annual grammy awards, we are so excited to celebrate the incredible music and artistry that defined this past year, thank you all for being here tonight."

you hold the microphone with both hands as the applause settles, the lights softening just enough to let you see the first few rows of the audience, and your gaze flickers instinctively toward the spot where you know he is seated, catching only the faint outline of his silhouette, the familiar tilt of his head, the quiet stillness of his posture that always gives him away, and even from this distance you feel the invisible thread between you tighten, a secret connection woven through months of stolen moments and whispered conversations and careful glances that no one else has ever noticed.

you continue with your lines, introducing the first categories of the night, your voice steady and smooth as you guide the audience through the ceremony, and each time you step offstage you feel the adrenaline settle into your bones like a soft hum, the backstage crew moving around you with practiced precision, the sound of applause rising and falling like a heartbeat behind the curtains, and you take a moment to breathe, to center yourself, to remind yourself that you are here to work even though your heart keeps drifting toward him like a compass that cannot help but point north.

when it is time for you to present the next award, you step back into the lights with a smile that feels natural and warm, the audience greeting you with another wave of applause, and you read the nominees with clear, confident rhythm before opening the envelope with a practiced flourish, your voice lifting as you announce the winner, the crowd erupting as the popular male artist makes his way toward the stage with a bright grin and an energy that fills the room, his excitement contagious as he climbs the steps and approaches you with open arms.

you expect a handshake or a quick hug, something simple and professional, but instead he leans in with a warm smile and presses a friendly kiss to your cheek, his hand resting lightly on your arm as he murmurs his thanks for your support on the charity project you worked on together, and you feel your breath catch in surprise as the audience reacts with soft laughter and applause, your cheeks warming as you laugh awkwardly and try to keep your composure, reminding yourself that it is harmless, that it is friendly, that it is nothing more than a gesture of appreciation in front of a room full of people.

you step aside to give him space for his acceptance speech, your smile polite and steady even though your mind is still catching up with the unexpected moment, and as the lights shift to focus on him you let your gaze drift toward the audience again, searching instinctively for the one face that matters most, and when you find him your breath catches because michael isn’t just tense, he’s wound so tightly he looks like he might snap if anyone so much as brushes against him. his jaw isn’t only clenched, it’s locked, the muscle ticking beneath his skin as if he’s fighting every instinct in his body not to get up and drag you off that stage, his eyes don’t just stay on you, they burn into you, dark and sharp and unblinking that sends a shiver down your spine as his fingers curl harder against his knee, knuckles whitening, breath tightening in his chest.

he tries to hide it, he really does, but you know him too well, you know the way his emotions flicker beneath the surface like sparks waiting to catch fire, and you can see the jealousy simmering in the tightness of his shoulders, the way he shifts in his seat as if trying to shake off the image of another man’s lips on your cheek, the way his gaze keeps darting between you and the artist onstage as if replaying the moment over and over in his mind, each repetition tightening something inside him until he looks like he might burst from the pressure alone.

the artist continues his speech, completely unaware of the storm brewing in michael’s chest, thanking his team and the fans and the people who supported the charity project, his voice warm and enthusiastic as the audience applauds again, and you keep your expression calm even though you can practically feel the jealousy radiating off him, thick and hot, filling the space between you even from across the room. it’s in the way he won’t blink, the way his lips press into a thin line, the way his foot taps once, twice, three times before he forces it still. he’s trying to stay composed for the cameras, for the crowd, for the moment, but his eyes give him away completely. they’re dark with something possessive, something wounded, something that says he didn’t expect to see another man’s mouth anywhere near you tonight.

when the segment ends and you walk offstage, your heart is still fluttering from the intensity of his stare, your mind replaying the moment in the same way you know he is, and as you step into the dim backstage hallway you press a hand to your cheek where the kiss landed, not because it meant anything but because you know it meant something to him, and the thought alone makes your chest tighten with a mix of affection and worry as you wait for the next cue, the distant sound of applause echoing through the walls like a reminder that the night is far from over.

you lean against the backstage wall for a moment, letting the cool surface steady you as you go over your next lines, your voice soft as you rehearse under your breath, and even though you are alone for now you can still feel the weight of his gaze lingering on your skin, a silent promise that the night will only grow more intense from here, and you close your eyes for a moment, breathing in the charged air of the grammy awards, knowing that the real storm has only just begun.

you stay backstage for a few minutes after your last presentation, letting the noise of the audience settle into a distant hum as you breathe in the dim hallway, the soft glow of the backstage bulbs warming your skin while you rehearse your next lines under your breath, your voice low and steady as you try to shake off the lingering awkwardness from earlier, your fingers brushing your cheek again even though you keep telling yourself it was nothing, just a friendly gesture, just a moment that should not matter, yet you can still feel the ghost of michael’s stare like a hand closing around your ribs, tightening with every breath you take.

the stage manager calls your name again and you straighten your shoulders, smoothing your gown as you step toward the curtain, your heart beating a little faster because this category is bigger, heavier, more important, and you want to deliver it perfectly, especially knowing he is out there somewhere watching you with that quiet intensity that always makes your pulse skip, and as you step into the lights again the applause rises like a warm tide, the golden glow washing over you as you smile at the audience with practiced grace.

you hold the microphone with both hands, grounding yourself in the familiar weight of it as you begin to speak, your voice steady and warm as you welcome the audience back from the short break, the cameras gliding across the room like silent birds while the crowd settles into their seats, and you let your gaze sweep gently across the front rows, your eyes catching the faint outline of his silhouette again, the soft shimmer of his jacket, the stillness of his posture that tells you he has not relaxed since the moment he saw that kiss.

you inhale slowly, letting the moment settle before you continue, your voice carrying clearly through the auditorium. "it is my honor to present one of the most meaningful categories of the night, a category that celebrates the power of music to move us, to unite us, and to change the world. these are the nominees for song of the year." the screens behind you light up with clips and audio, the audience reacting with soft murmurs and applause as each nominee appears, and you stand poised and elegant, your heart thudding quietly beneath your ribs as you hold the envelope in your hand.

when the final nominee fades and the applause settles, you open the envelope with careful precision, your breath catching for a moment as you read the name printed inside, and you lift your gaze to the audience with a soft smile that feels both warm and electric. "and the grammy for song of the year goes to… we are the world, michael jackson and lionel richie."

the room erupts into applause, cheers rising like a wave that shakes the floor beneath your feet, and you look toward the aisle where he stands, his expression unreadable for a moment as he rises from his seat, but then his eyes lock onto yours and everything inside you stills because he is not looking at the audience, he is not looking at the cameras, he is not even looking at the stage itself, he is looking only at you, his gaze sharp and unwavering as he begins to walk toward you with a new calmness that feels too controlled, too deliberate, like a storm holding itself together by sheer force of will, and beside him lionel richie rises as well, moving with him up the aisle like it’s the most natural thing in the world, smiling at the crowd but clearly aware of where this is going, and as they reach the steps lionel goes first, pulling you into a warm, effortless side hug that makes you laugh softly through the shock of it all, his hand patting your shoulder in genuine pride as he murmurs something you barely catch before he steps back with an approving grin.

you swallow hard as he moves toward you, each step drawing the world in tighter until everything else fades into a soft blur. your fingers clamp around the envelope, the paper bending under the tension, but his eyes stay fixed on yours with a steady focus that makes the crowd feel distant and unimportant. the air seems to shift as he gets closer, warm and dense, settling over your skin like something quietly electric.

when he reaches you, he slips an arm around your waist with a certainty that steals your breath. his touch isn’t forceful, just sure, like he’s anchoring you in place without needing to say a word. he looks down at you with his head tilted slightly to the side, studying you with a softness that makes your chest tighten. his teeth catch lightly on his lower lip, a small, unguarded gesture that gives away how much this moment matters to him. and even through all that tenderness, you can still sense the jealousy flickering in his eyes, a faint shadow beneath the warmth. it is not harsh or angry, just a quiet ache he cannot hide, something that tightens his hold on your waist for a heartbeat. his hand squeezes gently, not enough to hurt, just enough to let you feel the emotion he is trying so hard to keep contained.

then he leans in and kisses you.

not a quick peck, not a shy brush of lips, but a soft, sure, deliberate kiss that melts the entire room into silence for a heartbeat before the audience explodes into gasps and cheers and applause, the sound crashing over you like a tidal wave as your eyes flutter shut for a moment, your heart racing wildly as his lips linger just long enough to make it clear that this is not a mistake, not a slip, not a friendly gesture, but a declaration, a reveal, a claim spoken without words in front of the entire music industry.

when he pulls back, he gives you a small, playful wink that makes your stomach flip, his hand brushing your waist one last time before he turns to accept the award from you, his fingers brushing yours with a warmth as he takes the grammy into his hands, the crowd still roaring with excitement as he steps toward the microphone with that soft, shy smile that always makes people melt.

he waits for the applause to settle, his posture relaxed but his eyes flicking toward you every few seconds with a quiet possessiveness that only you can read, and when he finally speaks his voice is gentle, warm, and full of gratitude. "thank you, thank you so much." he pauses as the applause rises again, his smile widening before he continues. "i want to thank lionel, first of all, for being such an incredible partner in creating this song. he is a true friend and a true artist, and i am so grateful for everything we were able to do together."

he shifts the award in his hands, his voice softening with sincerity. "i want to thank every artist who came together for this project, everyone who gave their time and their hearts to something bigger than all of us. this song was made with love, with hope, and with the belief that we can make the world a better place when we stand together."

the audience applauds again, "and of course, i want to thank the fans, because none of this would be possible without your love and your support. you inspire me every single day, and i am so grateful for you."

he pauses, his smile turning a little mischievous, his eyes sliding toward you again with a glimmer that makes your breath catch. "and, um… i guess i should also say…" he lifts the grammy slightly, his tone light but unmistakably pointed. "some people should be a little more careful about kissing another man's lady."

the audience bursts into laughter, cheers rising as people clap and whistle, the cameras catching your face as your cheeks burn with embarrassment and surprise, your hand lifting instinctively to cover your mouth as you try not to laugh, and michael just smiles, that soft, cheeky smile that tells you he knows exactly what he is doing, exactly how flustered he is making you, and he is enjoying every second of it.

he finishes with a warm, humble thank you before stepping away from the microphone, and as he walks back toward you he gives you another small wink, his fingers brushing your waist again as he passes, the touch subtle but full of meaning, and you feel your heart flutter helplessly as he heads back down the steps, the audience still buzzing with excitement from the unexpected reveal.

you stand there for a moment, trying to steady your breathing as the cameras cut away and the stage manager ushers you offstage, your mind spinning, your cheeks still warm, your heart pounding with a mix of shock and affection and something deeper, something that feels like it has been waiting to surface for a long time, and as you step into the dim backstage hallway again you know he will find you soon, and you know the conversation waiting between you will be one you will never forget.

the hallway feels calmer than the stage, dimmer and softer, the noise of the grammy crowd fading into a distant echo as you step into the quiet. you’re still warm from the lights, still breathless from everything that happened, your mind replaying the moment he kissed you in front of everyone like a scene you can’t quite believe is real. you press your hand lightly to your lips, trying to steady yourself, when you hear him behind you, his footsteps slow and sure, carrying that familiar mix of confidence and emotion that always gives him away.

when you turn, he’s already watching you, his grammy tucked under one arm, his shoulders relaxed but his eyes still burning with that jealousy he hasn’t shaken off yet. he walks toward you with a softness that contradicts the storm you know is still swirling inside him, and when he reaches you he stops close enough that you can feel the warmth of him settle around you like a blanket. his voice is gentle when he speaks, even though his eyes are still sharp with emotion. "you okay baby?" he asks quietly, his hand brushing your arm in a way that makes your breath catch. "i didn’t mean to overwhelm you out there."

you nod, though your heart is still racing, and he studies your face for a moment, searching for any sign of discomfort. when he finds none, his expression shifts, softening into something warm but edged with that quiet, simmering jealousy he’s trying so hard to keep under control. "i just… i couldn’t sit there and watch that," he murmurs, "him kissin' you like that. i know it was friendly, i know it didn’t mean anything, but it still…" he trails off, shaking his head slightly, his jaw tightening for a moment before he exhales slowly. "it still bothered me."

you whisper his name softly, and he gives a small smile, one that’s both apologetic and a little proud, like he knows he’s being ridiculous but he also knows he’d do it all again. "i’m not gonna pretend i wasn’t jealous," he says, his voice low and honest. "i was. i still am." he leans in a little, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "but i’m glad everyone knows now. i’m glad they know who my woman is... the woman i get to love."

your cheeks warm instantly, and he notices, his smile turning a little smug but still gentle, still full of affection. "guess i made the night a little more interesting." he adds, his tone playful but certain. lifting the grammy slightly, his eyes glimmering with pride.

you roll your eyes at him, but you’re smiling, and he sees it, his expression softening again as he cups your jaw with one hand, his thumb brushing your skin with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. "you did amazing tonight," he whispers. "i’m so proud of you."

you tell him you’re proud of him too, and his smile grows, warm and bright, the kind of smile that lights up his whole face. he glances down at the grammy in his hand, then back at you, and the warmth in his eyes deepens. "i got my award," he says softly. "and i got you. that’s all i wanted tonight."

he leans in closer, his voice dropping into something playful, something that makes your stomach twist. "c’mon," he murmurs, kissing your temple. "let’s go home so i can show you how jealous i was."

your eyes widen and you slap his chest lightly, your voice a shocked whisper. "michael!" he laughs softly, the sound warm and sweet, his shoulders shaking just a little as he catches your hand gently, his fingers curling around yours with an ease that makes your heart flutter.

"i’m teasing," he says, though the sparkle in his eyes tells you he’s enjoying every second of your reaction. "but i do wanna get you out of here."

you’re still flustered, still warm, but you’re smiling, and he sees it, his own smile stretching wider as he gives your hand a gentle tug. he leads you down the hallway toward the exit, his grammy tucked under his arm, his fingers laced with yours like he’s never letting go. when he pushes open the door to the cool night air, the limo waiting just outside, he glances back at you with a look so full of pride and happiness it makes your chest swell.

he’s got his grammy. he’s got his girl. and he looks like he’s floating.

you squeeze his hand, your smile soft and full, and he squeezes back, his voice low and warm as he whispers, "let’s go home."

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hey dolls 🌸 just wanted to say sorry if my recent fics haven't been my best. i've been dealing with some personal stuff lately and it's been making it really hard to find motivation to write, and i've also recently started therapy, so i've been trying to focus on myself a little more. i know i probably shouldn't be sharing this, and this is honestly a little embarrassing to admit lol, but i don't have friends to talk to about this stuff, and you guys honestly feel like friends to me, so i wanted to be honest about why some of my writing might feel a little shit. i also feel really guilty about the requests that have been sitting in my inbox for months now, and i'm genuinely so sorry to everyone who's been waiting. thank you for still reading my stuff and supporting me, it genuinely means so much. i still really wanna write and make things you guys enjoy, even when i'm struggling. requests are still open btw !! feel free to send them in <3 i love you all !!

[moonlitjane]

P.Y.T.

michael jackson x female reader

━ ˙⋆✮ SUMMARY: michael can’t stop filming everything with his new video camera, including you.

━ ˙⋆✮ CONTENT: 18+, mdni, established relationship, we makin a sex tape y’all, michael pussy-drunk and telling the reader how pretty she is, use of the pet name angel a lot sorry, unprotected sex (not smart don’t do that), fuckin on the floor no decorum smh, praise kink, eye contact!!, soft dom/cocky michael, creampie

━ ˙⋆✮ AUTHOR’S NOTE: i typically write subby michael bc that just feels right to me BUT i thought it would be fun to experiment with a more playful/soft dom version of him for this one. idk i think if he got really comfortable with you he’d tease the shit outta you…. i’m talking borderline annoying likeeee please just shut up and gimme that dick

Michael’s camcorder covers half of his face, trembling fingers clasping desperately against the plastic exterior as he works hard to keep it pointed at you.

Maybe his hands are shaking from nerves, or maybe it’s because he’s fighting against every last drop of restraint left in his body while your hips roll painfully slow over his as you ride him on the plush carpet of his bedroom floor.

It was your idea— filming the two of you in such an intimate setting.

You’d spent days watching Michael get all wide-eyed and giddy as he captured every little moment on his new video camera. He took it everywhere, becoming somewhat of an amateur filmmaker as he directed everyone around him, taping the most mundane moments.

Even when it was just the two of you, the camera stayed glued to his hand.

The late afternoon sun slipped through his curtains as you sat in his bedroom, thumbing through a stack of records. You thought you were finally safe from your boyfriend’s constant need to document his every move, when the realization hit you— you were being watched.

The albums at your fingertips stilled as you gazed up, noticing the red light glaring in the distance.

Your eyes found Michael’s through the lens of his camera— always filming.

He smiled from behind the bulky machine as you waved, giggles bubbling under your breath at your precious boyfriend who thought you searching through his music collection was something worth documenting.

And for him it really was.

But seeing the way his curls fell against his forehead while he focused on your every move through the viewfinder, his slender fingers curving and gripping at the camera as he kept you in his sight, gave you other ideas.

You’d thought about it last week; using his camcorder to film the two of you having sex.

His head was buried in the crook of your neck kissing and sucking, while his breath got heavier against your skin with every thrust of his hips.

And when his hand fought between your bodies to rub tight circles into your clit, your back arched in a way you didn’t even know was possible, pressing your cheek even further into the satin pillowcase beneath your head.

You felt a familiar coil tightening deep in your abdomen, but were met with a familiar sight when you opened your eyes, momentarily distracting you from the orgasm curling at your toes.

Sitting on the bedside table, his video camera was pointed toward you, completely shut off, and yet, your body went numb at the thought of the little red recording light turning on.

You imagined it capturing the lewd sounds Michael was making into your neck, and the image of your heaving bodies meshing together— all slick and sweaty.

The thought of filming such a filthy thing, having it on tape for just the two of you; it was hot. So hot, that the notion of it sent you right over the edge.

Michael was too busy moaning into your shoulder about how good you felt to notice your gaze locked on his favorite new toy.

You grasped at his back, nails digging into his skin as the most pathetic whines fell from your lips.

From that moment on you could barely look at it the same.

Every time he held the camcorder in front of his face, gentle hands keeping it steady, and the corner of his smile peeking out from behind it— your skin got hot.

But each time you thought you could work up the courage to tell him about your little fantasy, a twinge of embarrassment kept the words from leaving your mouth.

Michael was just so private. You couldn’t imagine he’d want to film something that personal.

So, for the sake of avoiding rejection, you kept your desire to be filmed confidential.

But it was especially hard to keep your dirty little secret in instances like this: him taping when it was just the two of you alone.

It would be so easy to ask him, so easy to set the camera on any surface in his room and angle it just right, letting it capture every second as you had your way with each other.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. You never could.

Settling for a bashful smile in his direction, the tension fueled by forbidden thoughts pulled at your cheekbones as he caught each tweak of your expression on his camera.

“You’re so funny with that thing.” You went back to the albums at your fingers, flipping one after another looking for the perfect soundtrack to accompany the setting sun outside the window.

“How?” He kept the camcorder in front of his face, still rolling, as his question slipped past his grin.

You didn’t answer, shaking your head with a smirk of your own as you kept your hands busy with the records.

“Because I wanna record my girl?” His voice was sweet, carrying across the room with a quiet confidence that made your breath hitch.

If he wanted to record you so bad, maybe he wouldn’t turn down the depraved idea that kept rolling around in your head-

“Maybe I want something to watch when I’m away. When I miss you.” the camera was still recording, and you had to force your fingers to keep moving through the vinyls, because the way his voice got all low and soft threatened to make your entire body freeze.

Your chest swelled thinking about him watching these moments when he was halfway across the world; simple tapes of you doing absolutely nothing in his room— something to remind him what’s waiting back home.

But then your mind wanders as you think about him missing you in a different way.

The nights when he’s alone in a hotel room somewhere, with his hand wrapped around his dick and his eyes squeezed shut, picturing your naked body on the back of his eyelids.

The nights when it’s already morning back in California and he knows you’re too busy to talk on the phone.

The nights when he needs just a little something more than his imagination to fall asleep.

And you could help him with that.

Right now.

With his video camera you could offer a little keepsake for him to take on tour, something for him to keep hidden away until he needed it most. Something for his eyes only that would make his cheeks burn when he remembered it was tucked deep inside the front pocket of his carry on.

“You’d do that? Watch tapes of me while you’re away?” You try your best to keep the sultry curiosity out of your voice as you stare down at your hands that have definitely stopped moving.

“Of course baby.”

The camera lowers just enough for his stare to meet yours and his eyes are too warm and gentle. If only he knew the thoughts clouding your brain right now.

“That’s sweet.” Your smile barely reaches your cheeks before the camera is back in front of his face, capturing your response.

“Michael?”

“Hmm?”

A surge of courage, or more likely lust, rushes through your chest as you watch him hum in response, his lips lightly pressing together.

“Could you kiss me?”

The camera lowers, his eyes visible to you again.

“Baby you don’t have to ask-“

He pulls the camcorder down completely, his lips pulling into a full fledged smile as his finger hovers over the button to turn it off-

“With the camera on.”

His body goes still.

You’re staring at him, watching his smile settle into his cheeks, lips parted just enough for his breathy response to slip past them.

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t turn off the video camera.

“I could do that.”

Instead he places it carefully on the edge of his bed, making sure it’s pointed directly at you. Adjusting it inch by inch, his eyes bounce between the picture of you in his camera, and your eyes locked on him just a few feet away.

It nestles perfectly against his comforter as he makes his way across the floor, kneeling beside you without saying a single word.

He looks a little uncertain and for a minute you regret putting him in this situation, but then his hand finds your jaw, pulling you closer until your lips meet.

The movement of his mouth against yours is slow and careful, but there’s a hunger in the way his hands find your waist, grabbing and pulling you into him— eager.

The kiss deepens but there’s a slight hesitation in his touch as his fingers linger at the hem of your t-shirt.

“We can stop.”

The offer is abrupt as you pull back just enough for your words to land on his lips: swollen, parted, and fighting a tender smile.

“The camera- I mean. We can stop recording.”

“D’ya want that?” His voice was quiet, eyes intense as he searches your expression for the answer to his question.

You’re unable to look him in the eyes, attention falling to the ground as you try to pry the word “no” from somewhere deep in your throat where it’s refusing to leave.

“Angel…”

You can’t see his face, but the nickname floats through the air in a low chuckle.

He’s amused.

“Don’t.” Your chest is hot and there’s a slight pang of humiliation— or maybe annoyance— swimming in your voice as you keep your eyes trained on the floor.

“Look at me baby.”

You can hear the smile behind his words as his fingertips find your jaw again, pulling your gaze forward.

“My angel wants to be filmed?”

“Mikey.”

He’s holding your face in his hands making it impossible for you to look away.

And he’s grinning.

“Tell me.” His words are taunting, seeping with a discreet kind of arrogance.

You shake your head, physically unable to pull the words from your mouth.

“C’mon, gotta tell me what you want.”

“I wanna record it.” You find your voice, pulling it from your throat and shoving it past your lips.

“I want you to have a tape— of us.”

You wish you didn’t sound so timid as you watched the smile push against his cheeks.

“Doing what?”

He’s smug now, biting at his lower lip to keep his smirk from growing.

“Michael.”

He raises a brow and suddenly you remember all of this is being captured by the camera perched on his bed.

“Wanna make a video of us fucking Mikey.” Your voice drops to a low whisper and you can feel him tense up at the indecent language dripping from your lips.

“So you can watch it when you miss me.” You throw his earlier statement back at him, only this time, the intention behind the words is far more perverted.

“Would that be okay?”

Now you’re teasing, trailing your fingers up the nape of his neck, wrapping them gently in his curls.

His answer is delivered in the quick grip of his hands on your hips, fingers sliding past your t-shirt and onto your skin.

His touch is everywhere: hands roaming your stomach, pressing flat against your lower back to push you further into him as your lips find each other in an all consuming heat.

It’s a sweltering frenzy of newfound corruption with both of your fighting to free yourselves from the layers of clothing that kept your skin from touching.

The flames of anticipation grew hotter with every article that hit the floor— the gentle reminder of your on-screen debut flashing red in your peripheral vision.

The camera sat nice and neat on the edge of Michael’s bed, recording as your bodies moved in a desperate rhythm.

Your lips were still attached when his fingers ran along the waistband of your panties.

“You sure?” His voice was muffled into the kiss, too quiet for his camcorder to pick up.

You pulled back, legs straddling his hips as you reached toward the bed.

You grabbed the camera, handing it to him, red light still blinking.

He held it out in his palm, unsure of what you were doing, until you moved his hand, guiding the camera to its habitual position in front of his face, letting him do what he’s been doing for weeks— record you.

“Oh, Angel.”

The groan falls from his lips as he leans back, one hand keeping the camera secure at his face, the other sitting flat against the carpet.

And while he looks for you in the view finder, you tug his underwear down his thighs, not even bothering to push them all the way off his legs.

You think about wrapping a hand around his length, stroking him a few times for the sake of his later-viewing pleasure.

But you were too impatient— willing to skip foreplay in exchange for the satisfaction of feeling him deep inside you.

You pull your panties aside just enough to feel him dip into the slick mess pooling at your center.

His breath hitched.

You were wet. It was rare that you could get this worked up from him barely touching you, and even more unlikely that you’d be ready to take him without the stretch of his fingers first.

But as you sunk down, it became increasingly evident just how much you wanted this— how much you’d thought about him filming you.

“That’s good angel.” His praise chokes out between sighs.

You’re whining as he fills you completely, every inch of him tucked away and pulsing against your walls.

Your eyes had been shut, soaking in the stretch as you slid down, but now, you looked directly at the lens in front of you, eyelids heavy and lips parting as you rolled your hips over his.

“Angel.” This time the word is a complete and utter whimper.

“You look s’pretty like that.” He’s cooing under his breath, as you keep eye contact with him through the camera.

His dick presses somewhere real deep making your lashes flutter and your brows pull together.

His fingertips dig into the carpet, and you can tell his need to touch you is agonizing, but the angle is too good. The point of view from his camera, the way he’s stroking into you at just the right spot; all of it forcing him to stay put— driving his hand even further into the ground to hold himself steady.

It’s a slight shift when pans the camera down, but the action has you going dizzy.

The camcorder is focused between your bodies, perfectly capturing the view of your pussy hugging him in.

You make a show of it, lifting up just enough for the camera to catch a glimpse of the creamy ring of arousal building at the base of his cock, before burying yourself back down on him. Bouncing nice and slow, watching the way his brows furrow from behind the camera.

It startles you when he shifts beneath you, abruptly leaning over to put the camera back in its original position, tossing it on the bed and pointing toward you, still recording.

He’s still inside you, his hands gripping your body, everywhere— desperate to touch you, to hold you.

You rock your hips into his at a quicker pace, fingers tugging at his hair.

“You like this.” His statement is almost incriminating as it melts through his smile pressing beneath your jaw.

Your hips stutter; skin going warm at his sultry accusation.

Before you can respond his voice drops lower, humming into your neck, “I like it too.”

He holds onto your hips steady, fucking up into you— deprived and impatient.

The pleasure is blinding and you can feel your body tensing under his fingertips.

“Mikey I’m close.”

You’re whining into the air, and the broken groans falling into your shoulder tell you he’s not far from his own release.

He kisses back up your neck, sloppy and quick before bringing his face back to yours.

“Look at me baby.”

With gentle fingertips, he holds your jaw in his hand, stroking a careful thumb across your cheek to coax your eyes open.

“Wanna see you.”

Your lashes flutter, eyes opening with heavy lids and a completely fucked-out gaze.

“My pretty girl.” His compliment yanks at the thin string of composure pulling tight in your stomach and you can’t stop the waves of relief from washing over you as it snaps.

The orgasm induced high clouding your brain sends a filthy request to your lips,

“Want you to cum inside Mikey…”

His hands stiffen, but his pupils grow wide, laced with something more than hunger— greed.

“Please please please.” The word is a breathless whimper ringing out over and over again, pussy sensitive and throbbing as your hips roll languidly against him.

The pathetic sound of your begging is all it takes for Michael to hold you close as he spills into you.

Burying into your chest, his lips press against your sternum muffling the desperate sounds seeping from his throat. Each little gasp melts into your skin while your hands tangle into his hair.

You gently play with his curls, wrapping them around your fingertips as you hear his breath soften under your touch.

He’s almost giggling when his voice finally becomes clear again, still purring into your bare chest, “That was filthy.”

He pulls back just enough to catch you peering down at him, both of you wide-eyed and grinning.

“Bet you’ll appreciate it when you’re all worked up a million miles away.”

Your fingers are still threading through his hair, attempting to remedy the mess you’ve made from all the grabbing and tugging.

“Bet I will.”

He’s got that look on his face of sheer joy. Smile digging deep against his cheekbones and his eyes washed over with pure bliss as he looks up at you.

His body shifts and he reaches for the camcorder on his bed, turning it off before wiggling his brows at you, smiling so big dimples press into his cheeks, “Might even have to watch it right now.”