Old Habits (die never) ll
summary. a rainy night and a coincidental hotel encounter causes you to end up in Michael’s suite after he’s been on your mind all week and you can’t hold back telling him how you feel.
bad era!Michael Jackson x fblack!reader
4.5k wc. smut mdni. infidelity.(warning you now). reader has a boyfriend. if it makes it better he’s an ass. reader is a mess and has no idea what she wants. intentional voyeurism. you make him watch you (just you). masturbation. fingering. no p in v. he’s kinda manipulative. lots of dirty talk. he talks you through it. lots of nicknames incl mama cuz I love it. squirting.
It was late, the sun having dipped below the horizon a few hours ago and the hotel lounge was emptying as closing approached.
You were seated at the bar, admittedly sulking, about three and a quarter of a drink in.
You were conflicted and angry and so many emotions all at once, all because of a conversation you’d had with your boyfriend, Aaron, recently.
While he comforted you in the moment, he hadn’t been all too thrilled about your sudden leave from the show you’d been on last week.
Said it was unprofessional and wasn’t good for you. But you knew what he really meant: it wasn’t good for him. His perfectly crafted unruffled image that he clung so tightly to.
You could admit that being goaded by Michael to have an argument on live television wasn’t the best idea on your part. But in the moment you couldn’t help it. He knew just how to get under your skin and you felt utterly helpless.
It has been bleeding into other parts of your life and affecting your career. You avoided a few appearances and the ones you did do were lackluster at best. Lacking that aspiring Hollywood sweetheart image you were expected to uphold. It was completely exhausting to have to be what everyone was telling you to be.
You wanted it, you loved your career, you wanted to be liked. But you didn’t want it like that because it was inauthentic to you. It wasn’t you. And Aaron knew that. You weren’t sure why he was even trying to mold you into that but you had an inkling that it was because you were tied to his name.
That’s how this world worked. You were in a relationship, so everything you did would fall back on him and vice versa.
He’d chosen the next day after the show to express how he’d truly felt. It had been a long night for you, dealing with the disarray of being around Michael again and that almost kiss. You hadn’t even wanted to get up out of bed but that was never going to be an option.
“Hey, can we talk?” you were rolled over facing the window when you heard him.
You knew he’d been up far longer than you and that was confirmed when you turned around to see him fully dressed, hair styled and fresh faced. You were certain you looked like a wreck.
You turned to face him, sitting up a little but saying nothing. He stood at the edge of the bed hands fiddling with a cufflink.
He eyed you a moment before speaking, “Don’t do what you did last night again.” plain and to the point.
“I’m sorry, what exactly are you referring to?” he sighed before pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Arguing on TV where thousands of people can see you. I thought you would know better.” he wrinkled his nose at you, like you were a petulant child who didn’t know how to follow instructions. You fucking hated when he treated you like that. Practically scolding you like you were five.
But you honestly didn’t know what you could’ve said in your defense. You couldn’t deny it, because you were arguing. You’d let him get under your skin and bring that out of you.
“It wasn’t that bad. It was a mistake on my part, but—“ he cut you off with a question.
“It wasn’t that bad? How many people do you think were watching that show?” his eyes were sharp but not hostile. You knew he wasn’t happy though.
“Yes of course you don’t know because you didn’t think about it. His presence on the show nearly tripled the viewer count.” his voice was full of condescension.
“I’m sorry. I really just wasn’t thinking about it.” You really just didn’t have the energy for this.
“Do you ever think about these things? I’m starting to think you don’t care at all. About your career. About anything.” your eyes snapped up to his. The hell?
“That’s so rich coming from you. And what the hell are you, my boyfriend or my manager?” you crossed your arms glaring at him and his audacity to imply you didn’t care about your career. When that was your main goal and passion.
“I’m starting to feel like I need to be both since you insist on acting the way you do.” his voice was infuriatingly calm, but dripping with arrogance. Like he just knew he was better than you.
“I made a fucking mistake, Aaron.”
“Was eye fucking another man on tv a part of that mistake?” your mouth snapped shut at that. Stupid of you to think it wasn’t noticeable the way you and Michael looked at each other. On the surface animosity, but if you looked closer you could see that burning desire you both shared. The way your eyes trailed to each other’s lips like a magnet.
“Of course you have nothing to say to that.” he sighed and pulled out his phone, disregarding you. Almost like he didn’t even care. He made a quick call before returning back to you.
“I don’t know what history you two have but you have a chance to fix this, so don’t screw it up.” then he turned and left.
You hadn’t a clue what he was talking about until your agent called to fill you in. There was a charity event happening in New York in a week's time. You’d go donate, shake hands and rub shoulders with other industry stars and be perfect, as you were expected.
Which was how you’d ended up at the hotel bar, a place you knew you probably shouldn’t have been seen. But you really couldn’t care less at the moment.
You were nearly about to just call it a night and head back to your room when you felt a tap on your shoulder.
You turned and were surprised when you saw a man who you recognized instantly as Bill Bray.
Michael’s head of security. And if he was here then that meant—
You noticed the folded slip of paper in his hand that he’d reached out to you and you shook your head instantly.
“No.” you’d said but he must’ve been on strict orders because he sat it down on the bar beside your drink anyway and made his leave.
You stared at the paper a long moment before, contemplating. Unfortunately curiosity was eating you alive so you reached for it.
PH01 someone will let you in.
An invitation. Not even a question. Like he just knew you would come if he asked. You tucked the slip of paper down into your glass, the amber liquid soaking into the ink and smudging it.
You gave it a few moments before you moved, just to say to yourself you hesitated at all. The truth however was a flashing sign in your head as you moved to stand making your way out of the lounge and to the elevator.
Distantly, you recognized the irony in the fact that your boyfriend was the one that made these accommodations for you. Go figure.
True to word, once you reached the top floor a man was there to guide you to the room. Once you stood in front of the ornate door you hesitated again. What exactly were you doing here and why did you come? Two questions you didn’t have a solid answer to.
Suddenly, before you even moved to knock, the door had opened revealing Michael dressed in lounge pants and a loose shirt. He looked relaxed, curls falling around his face. Not at all surprised by your presence.
He opened the door wider for you, ushering you in without a word before closing the door behind you.
He didn’t speak, just turned to a small cart near the door and began filling a glass with some clear liquid. He turned back to you holding the glass between you.
“I’m not thirsty.” he gave you a look.
“Bill said you were at the bar. You need water.” he wasn’t asking as he gripped your wrist and placed the glass in your hand which you took. He was always taking care of you, even now.
“You’re really something, using Bill to do your dirty work and lure me up here.” he smiled slightly at that.
“It didn’t take much since you came.” he pointed out smugly.
You took a sip of your water before speaking. “Michael what are you doing here?”
“Same as you probably. And I just wanted to see you. And maybe talk.”
“Talk?” you raised a brow. You didn’t believe that for one second.
“Yeah, were you expectin’ somethin’ else?” An open ended trap. Because if you thought this was about something else then why would you come?
“No.” you’d said it but it sounded more like a question. His lip quirked up at that but he didn’t call you on it further.
He sat down on the plush couch on one side of the suit and you took in the space. It was large and expansive, decorated in rich tones, and only slightly pretentious. The exact kind of place he would pick.
“Come sit.” he beckoned you over and you moved immediately, taking a seat rigidly on the opposite end of the couch.
“You know you can relax right? This isn’t anything you don’t want it to be.” he spoke frankly. You weren’t gonna say how you just didn’t trust yourself around him.
“I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately—“
“And how would you know that?” you cut him off, an incredulous look crossing your face.
“Because I know you.” a simple fact.
“You don’t know shit.” you scoffed.
“Don’t do that.” he clicked his tongue a moment before looking away from you. “Don’t pretend like I don’t know you.”
“You knew me past tense. But people change.” but some things stay the same.
“Not so much in two years. You can always talk to me.” he was nearly pleading with you now. For some type of connection.
You eye him warily, conflicted yourself. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I miss you. I miss what we had. You’re the only person that really knows me. And I’m the only one who truly knows you. It’s as simple as that.” he confessed quietly.
It wasn’t that simple at all for you.
“Michael, I’ve moved on,” lie, “I have a boyfriend… and don’t you have someone too?” or at least that’s what he’d said. But the man on that show and the man in front of you were seemingly two different people. Now he was so vulnerable for you, nearly stripped bare when alone. It reminded you of old times.
“I lied. Of course there’s no one else, and can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you’re happy?” he’d inched closer on the couch, the knee you had propped up nearly brushing his thigh. You looked down and picked at the cushions.
“I can.” your eyes snapped up meeting his in challenge. He inched near you again eyes trained firmly on you.
His face was closer now than it’d been a moment ago. The eye contact alone was breaking down nearly every wall you’d built around yourself.
“I’m happy.” you said the words with no real conviction behind them.
“You’re looking at my lips baby, not my eyes.” he pointed out and you swallowed feeling like you were falling.
“I’m very happy.” you said it again bringing your gaze up somewhere past him, this time somehow even less convincing.
“Well… that’s not my problem.”
“You have so much attitude for someone who’s practically crawling’ in my lap right now.”
You went still before noticing how he’d been slowly inching back from you and you’d been following, scooting closer and closer without even realizing. Like a deprived plant stretching for the sun, your leg practically over his.
Before you could fully back away he’d snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you into him completely, chest to chest with your legs folded over his.
“You know you don’t have to be anyone but yourself when you’re with me.” you nearly cracked in half at hearing those words, “So please, answer my question.”
“I can’t.” you brought your face closer silently begging for something you didn’t want to name aloud.
“I know you can’t. I just needed to hear you say it.” and he finally broke the tension by bringing his lips to yours.
It was slow and deep and passionate, all the things you’d been secretly craving and missing. He brought a hand to cup your cheek, like you were so precious and it nearly broke you.
You couldn’t even think about anything else but how much you missed him, and how much you wanted this. Certainly not how wrong this was.
He’d broken the kiss and the sound that escaped you wasn’t something you couldn’t have controlled if you tried; just pure need.
“M’ always gonna be yours, forever.” he said before he attached his lips to your neck, nipping and kissing at the skin while you held the back of his neck, eyes screwed shut.
Your words might’ve been one thing but you’re body language was telling a different story entirely as you held him close.
“Don’t leave marks.” he of course didn’t listen to you and started sucking harder, tongue lathing over the marks you could feel blooming already.
His actions had an idea forming in your head.
“Wait— stop.” you placed a hand on one of his shoulders for leverage as he detached himself from you.
“C’mere.” you led him to the bed, seating yourself on it and placing your back against the headboard. Michael moved to follow you on the bed but you shook your head.
“You sit there.” you pointed to the edge and with how big the bed was, there was a great distance between you two. “You’re gonna stay right there. And you’re not gonna touch me.” you met his eyes and saw a flicker understanding pass through them before his eyes trailed over your figure on the bed.
You started slow, trailing your hands up and over the buttons of your top slowly pulling them apart with precision. You didn’t look at Michael but you could feel his eyes on you and that was enough to have your nerves buzzing.
But you wanted to punish him for all he’d put you through this last week.
The room was so quiet, all that could be heard was the sound of yours and Michael’s breathing and the gentle sound of rain beginning to pelt against the tall windows overlooking the city.
Once you’d undone all the buttons you were with nothing but the black lace of your bra covering your top half. You started ghosting your hands over your stomach slowly the pads of your fingers warm against your skin. You tipped your head against the pillow a bit, mostly to forget the sight of Michael watching you but of course that wouldn’t work.
Him being there was only making the space between your thighs ache more. But you wouldn’t allow yourself to have it. Not yet anyway.
You kept the gentle motions going a little longer, working yourself up and avoiding certain areas before you reached behind you to unclasp your bra, the motion causing you to arch off the bed.
You noticed the small lurch at the edge of the bed frame, as if he’d repositioned himself and you met his eyes for the first time then.
He wasn’t looking at your body or the bra you’d just discarded, but he was looking at your face. Taking in all the details he missed in the time you were absent from his life with a reverent sort of worship.
He had one leg propped on the edge he’d planted himself on, the other foot planted on the ground bouncing slightly.
It wasn’t until your eyes left his that he let his trail down your body, eyes drinking in the bare skin of your breast and your nipples reacting to the room's temperature. The sight had him hardening in his pants almost instantly and he huffed out a breath.
You were beginning to get tired of teasing yourself and him, so you moved to pull your pants off your legs, your panties with them, before tossing everything to the side with your shirt and bra.
Your knees were pulled together, legs crossed at the ankles to block your sex from view for a little longer.
Michael was practically buzzing with anticipation. He wanted more than anything to reach out and touch you, to pull your knees apart and have you in whatever way he wanted, to make you cry out his name. But he couldn’t. He had to sit here and watch.
To you he looked practically ready to jump out of his own skin. And it made you smirk a little.
“You having fun?” his eyes narrowed at you slightly before answering.
“No.” his soft voice cracking slightly on the word.
You could feel that tingling pressure from between your legs and the tension building from you rubbing your thighs together so you parted your legs slowly revealing yourself.
You noticed Michael’s eyes widen slowly, lips parting, the deep intake of breath and simultaneous swallow. Like he couldn’t pick which would help him keep composure best.
“Jesus.” he breathed out as his eyes traced over you. You were so wet, your arousal pooling between your thighs creating a web of lubricant across your sex. “Y’ already this wet, just from me watching you?”
You could tell he intended it to come out smug and teasing but it sounded nearly wrecked when he said it.
You trailed your hands over your thighs, parting your legs more and pulling them to your sides, spreading further. “S’ all for you Mikey.”
You saw his chest rise and fall and how badly he wanted to touch you written all over his face. And teasing him was just turning you on more so you kept going.
You trailed your hands down one hand remaining on your breast to finally play with one of your nipples, the other sliding a finger between your thighs to play with your clit.
“Yeah,” he sounded gone and completely distracted while you rubbed yourself.
You’d just closed your eyes when he spoke again, “That’s it baby, good girl rub your clit f’a me.” and you nearly lurched from just hearing him.
“Don’t talk.” you said and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to regain that control you let slip.
“Nu uh, if you’re not lettin’ me touch you, you’re gonna cum t’a the sound of my voice.” you knew then that you were a goner but you kept going.
And despite what he’s just said he actually did keep quiet. Something you suspected wasn’t for your benefit.
And the longer on you went it became apparent that you weren’t gonna be able to get yourself there on your own. Not with him dangling in front of you.
“Michael—“ you could hear the frustration in your voice and so could he.
“Yes honey?” he sounded overly sweet and he knew what you needed but he as always wanted to give you a hard time about it.
“And you know I need t’a hear you say what you need from me.” his eyes bore into yours waiting patiently.
“Please Michael…I need you.”
“You gonna listen to me and do what I say?” he raised an eyebrow down at your figure and you nodded.
“I need to hear your voice.”
He moved a bit closer to you on the bed but he didn’t cross any physical boundaries or touch you where you wanted, a fact you were conflicted about. You were the one who decided these rules and it had been viciously flipped around on you before you knew it. Things with Michael were always like that; you rarely having the control.
Or at least that’s how you felt, but to Michael, you’d always been the one controlling him. He was just so weak for you, he’d give you anything— down to his organs if you asked.
“Put one finger in.” you did as he said immediately and felt some relief, but knew that alone wouldn’t satisfy you for long.
“It’s not enough.” you whined out. Your fingers were so much smaller.
“I think you’re just greedy.”
“No m’not.” you’re answer was quick and his lip quirked up a bit— you just loved to argue with him.
“D’you remember that hotel in Paris four years ago? It was the day before your birthday.” your brows furrowed a little, wondering what random things he could be talking about at a time like this.
But then you thought about it. Of course you’d remembered that night. It wasn’t something easily forgotten.
“D’you remember how that felt? My face between your thighs for what felt like hours, tasting you, licking at your clit, and my fingers.” he spoke and you closed your eyes, remembering the moment and the feeling.
How he fervently licked and sucked at your clit and you imagined your finger was his pumping inside you— you were getting closer by the second.
He kept going, “I remember thinking, ‘I could eat this pussy all night. So sweet, tastes so good.’ . . . I wonder how you’d taste right now.”
“Add another finger, and take your thumb and rub your clit for me.” you didn’t have to be told twice as you started rubbing your neglected clit in tight circles, adding pressure.
Your legs fell apart and you moaned out pathetically at the increased stimulation, the coil tightening in your stomach.
“Thaaat’s it angel, feel good now?”
“Mmm hmm so good Mikey.” you hummed out entirely focused on the pleasure he was giving you.
Watching you spread open and blissed out in front of him had his cock leaking into his pants and fully erect, nearly to the point of pain. No amount of palming and readjusting was helping him alleviate his own pressure. And as much as he wanted to pull himself out and stoke his dick to the sight of you, this was about you.
“Y’ so perfect. My beautiful girl all spread out for me ‘nd makin’ a mess on my bed.”
“Shit— hmm Michael m’so close please.” you rubbed faster circles on your clit.
“I know baby, y’ almost there, just keep rubbing that pretty clit and curl your fingers. Can you do that for me?” you nodded and did as he said, curling your finger in a beckoning gesture, reaching for that spot inside you that he always managed to reach.
You were nearly there but something was stopping you. You don’t know if it was a physical barrier or a mental barrier but for some reason you just couldn’t get yourself there. Couldn’t reach that precipice you desperately craved.
“Michael I can’t—“ your voice was a whiny needy mess but the frustration was getting to you. You almost never had trouble making yourself cum so you didn’t know why now.
“Need you— your fingers, your mouth please.” you looked at him through your lashes with pleading eyes and he folded without hesitation.
He climbed closer to you on the bed, sitting on his knees, still fully clothed, and pulled your legs open over his thighs.
Your fingers were still lodged in your pussy so he pulled them out gently before bringing your hand to his lips, taking your fingers in and sucking, the taste of your arousal coating his tongue. You felt a hum against your hand as his eyes fluttered.
Once he was done he brought his hand to your mouth, “Open.” and you did, sucking on his fingers while holding eye contact.
You ran your tongue between his fingers and over the pads before sucking a bit harder, almost mimicking how you’d suck his dick if he’d let you.
After he’d gotten his fingers wet enough he brought them down between your legs and started rubbing his own circles on your clit.
“You like having my fingers on you?”
You didn’t respond and he slowed down changing the tempo to something unbearable. “Answer me please or I stop.”
“Yes Mike please!” he seemed happy with your answer and picked up the pace again, slipping a finger inside before adding the second one.
And immediately his fingers were much more satisfying, reaching the spots you’d been unable to reach as they moved in and out of you.
“Right there,” you gasped out. “Please don’t stop.”
“M’not stoppin’ until you cum sweetheart. Y’gonna cum all over my fingers and make a mess?”
“Yes Michael please—fuck!”
“Gettin so close, you can let go baby I got you, just come for me.”
You felt a sudden overwhelming feeling come over you when you finally came. Warmth spread over your lower half as the intense pressure finally let up and you came on Michael’s hand, drenching up to his wrist with your squirt.
“That’s it deep breaths, you did so good for me mama.” he whispered to you while rubbing your thighs as you tried to calm your heaving down. You don’t think you’ve ever experienced anything that overwhelming.
After you’d calmed down Michael brought you water and cleaned you up with a washcloth he’d retrieved from the bathroom. He’d offered you a bath but you didn’t feel like getting up, so he lied down next to you, pulling you into his chest in bed.
The quiet in the suite returned, loud with what you both weren’t saying.
You were an absolute mess who couldn’t even begin to navigate the start of the conversation you both needed to have.
The fact that you were in a very public relationship, what you wanted to do moving forward and whether or not he’d even changed enough to try again, if that’s what you wanted. All things swarming in your head.
“You don’t have to make any decisions now.” he spoke first as if he already knew the turmoil in your head. “Let’s just enjoy this and we can figure out the rest tomorrow.” he kissed your forehead.
You knew that to not address things wasn’t the best plan but in his arms at that moment, you decided to listen to him and lulled into sleep.
When you were fully knocked out Michael had just been about to fall asleep himself when he’d heard a faint buzzing sound.
He noticed your pants on the floor on his side of the bed and he picked them up, searching your pockets for what he assumed was your phone.
When he finally found it, he saw the many missed calls and messages left. All from your boyfriend.
Some begging. Some concerning.
Michael didn’t dwell on it too long just switched your phone off and placed it on the nightstand before wrapping his arms back around you pulling you closer before drifting off.
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