That’s the thing about Declan - he always gets what he wants. It might be wrong… but it feels so right.
declan o’hara x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. use of the c word. age gap. cheating. declan’s filthy mouth needs its own warning.
word count - 2.3k
authors note - that man is a munch and I cannot be convinced otherwise. my crush on aidan turner has returned tenfold and i’m about to make it everyone’s problem. read declan’s dialogue in that gorgeous irish accent of his for the full experience.
masterlist. inbox.
You’ve fake laughed so much this afternoon that you can’t remember what your real one sounds like.
Finally breaking away from a conversation with Freddie’s wife, you swan across the garden in your sundress towards the food and drink table. You absentmindedly pick at the strawberries, hoping and praying that no one bothers you for a moment. All you need is a minute to yourself, away from all of these faux smiles and boastful exchanges.
Reaching towards a raspberry, you feel fingertips ghosting across your back quickly.
“Y’alright?”
You’d recognise that voice anywhere, of course, and not just because he’s the only Irish man in The Cotswolds.
“Bored out of my mind, actually.”
“You’d never know.”
“I’m a good actress, these days. I’ve done one too many of these stupid garden parties.”
He chuckles all genuine and honeyed, and you’d be lying if you said the sound didn’t settle warmly in your bones.
“Whatcha doing tonight?”
He’s keeping his voice low, inconspicuous. You’ve both turned so you’re looking out over the garden, backs to the table, watching the crowds of people and their gossiping. To anyone else, it looks like an innocent conversation between two acquaintances. They can’t see his hand playing with the hem of your dress behind you, or the way his fingers keep brushing the backs of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.
“My boyfriend is coming over. You know that.”
“What time?”
You roll your eyes but answer anyway.
“Nine.”
“So what I’m hearing… is that you’re available from whenever this crap finishes until then?”
“That’s a stupid idea.”
“You usually love my stupid ideas.”
“Well maybe I’m trying to be smarter.”
He laughs with his full chest while you fight to keep the grin off your face, shaking your head.
“You’re already the smartest person here. Any smarter and we’re all doomed.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Declan.”
He pauses for a moment, pressing his side into yours and running his thumb across the soft skin of your thigh underneath your dress.
“I think we both know that’s not true, sweetheart.”
Your breath stutters as you will yourself to get it together, desperate to not repeatedly give in to his murmured promises and flirty remarks. It’s wrong. You know it is, both of you do, and yet…
“I want you gone by eight at the latest. I don’t need the two of you bumping into each other on my front step.”
He smirks like the cat that got the cream, looking down at you with lust drunk eyes.
“Good girl,” he whispers. “Promise to make it worth your while, yeah?”
“You always do,” you breathe out, so quietly that you’re surprised he hears.
He’s about to reply when you’re both startled by Rupert, striding over with the confidence of ten men and a bottle of champagne in his hand.
“Have they run out of glasses, CB?”
He slings an arm around your shoulder, laughing that rich man’s laugh right into your ear.
“Live a little, darling. Walk with me, will you? I have a story that might be worth your time, and I thought I’d bring it to my favourite journalist before anyone else.”
Rupert all but drags you across the garden, already chattering on about a scandal in the local constituency of the Conservative Party. You cast your eyes back to where Declan hasn’t moved, his gaze roving over your figure as you walk away.
He winks cheekily, dirty smirk slapped across his face.
You hate the way it sends electricity running through your veins in anticipation.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
It’s six forty five when there’s a knock on your door.
The devil himself is standing on your front step, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest.
“Hi darlin’.”
His accent is like molten honey, golden and warm and laced with sweetness. There’s mischief running through it though - as there always is.
“Come on,” you urge, grabbing his tie and pulling him inside, worried that one of your neighbours will see.
He laughs as he shuts the door behind him, unphased by your urgency.
“Thought you had a meeting. CB was telling me all about it earlier.”
“Rupert would tell you anything,” he chuckles. “He’s got a soft spot for pretty girls.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” you giggle, undoing his tie from around his neck and hanging it on your coat rack.
“No. I have a soft spot for one pretty girl.”
“Sweet talker,” you tease as you roll your eyes, undoing the first few buttons on his shirt. “How about you put your money where your mouth is, hmm? We don’t have all night.”
He clicks his tongue, hands finding your hips to pull you against him.
“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in so his lips brush yours. “Good things come to those who wait.”
“Less talking,” you scold, grabbing at his biceps to kiss him desperately.
Declan pushes you up against the wall, hips pressing into yours as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and whiskey and those mints he keeps in a tin in his back pocket. He scatters open mouthed kisses across your neck, licking across your skin and sucking the spot underneath your ear.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he mumbles. “Ever since I saw you in this dress.”
“You like it?” you breathe, head rolling to the side to give him more access.
“I fucking love it.”
“Good. Bought it for you.”
He groans, grinding his hips into yours.
“You’re a minx,” he pants, biting at your shoulder. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
With that, Declan wraps his arms around your middle, practically dragging you into the living room to throw you onto the sofa. He pulls your dress over your head, throwing it onto the floor with reckless abandon.
He instantly gets on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs with rough hands.
“Been waitin’ for this cunt all fuckin’ day.”
Your underwear is tugged down and discarded before you can blink, leaving you naked and high on the anticipation of it all. Your lungs are heaving, hands shaking as you will him to do something.
Declan sits back on his haunches, making a show of rolling up his sleeves. He looks so broad and commanding in his blue jeans with his shirt undone. He might be the one on his knees, but he’s definitely still in charge here.
You tangle your fingers into his dark hair and tug, pulling him closer.
“Please, Dec.”
“You sound so beautiful when ya beg.”
He grips your thighs tightly, ensuring they stay apart, as he leans in and presses kisses to any skin he can find.
“Don’t tease.”
“Or what, hmm? What are ya gonna do, sweetheart?”
“Stop it,” you chastise, head dropping back onto the cushions. “Please, baby.”
He chuckles before diving forwards, licking a stripe through your core. He wastes no time, tongue flicking over your clit like he’s done so many times before.
“Yeah,” you breathe out, fingers gripping his hair tightly. “Fuck, Declan.”
You’re convinced he enjoys this just as much as you do. He’ll eat you out for hours, never once expecting something in return - happy to feel you fall apart on his tongue again and again and again.
He knows exactly which spots will have you arching your back, how much pressure to use to have you writhing on the sofa cushions, where to put his hands to push you right over the edge. He can play you like a fiddle, observant and experienced.
His nose nudges your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, messy and wet and completely committed. The grip he has on your thighs is getting tighter and tighter, fingertips bruising your skin. You pray you’ll be able to see the marks when you look in the mirror tomorrow.
You’re teetering on the edge of your release, legs shaking and abdomen tightening. Declan can read you like a book, knowing exactly where you’re at - and taking advantage of it.
Just as you’re about to come, he pulls away and sits back, grinning like a deviant.
“No,” you’re panting. “The fuck are you doing?”
He laughs, leaning down to rest his head on your leg. He looks up at you with a gaze that’s half lust and half mischief, biting at his lip as he watches your chest heave.
“What do you want, darlin’?”
You pout at him, tears welling in your eyes.
“Come on, let me hear you say it. I want you to beg me to make you come. Tell me how you’ve been waiting for it all day, sweetheart.”
“I-Declan, I just-”
“Come on smart girl, use that big brain of yours. Why don’t you tell me all about how you think about me when you touch yourself? No - why don’t you tell me how you think about me while he fucks you?”
Your hips buck up into the air, desperate for any kind of friction. Declan laughs cruelly, wrapping his arms around your thighs again to pull you to the edge of the sofa, the strength he exerts only turning you on more.
“It’s okay,” he soothes against your core. “You don’t have to tell me. Your dripping wet cunt tells me everything I need to know, darlin.”
All you can do is moan, breathing like you’ve run a marathon. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel is Declan O’Hara.
“If we had the time, I’d edge you some more. Eat you out until you cried. You always look so pretty when you’re crying f’me.”
He finally takes pity on you, curling his tongue inside you as his nose repeatedly bumps against your clit. He’s practically making out with your core, saliva dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa. You can’t bring yourself to care about the mess, more focused on the older man’s mouth and the skills it possesses.
You’re whining, fingernails digging into his scalp as you grasp for something to hold onto. He’s groaning too, having just as much as fun as you are.
“Come for me, pretty girl. Show me how fucking beautiful you look.”
Your back bows off the sofa as you grind against his face, riding out your climax. Your thighs tighten around his head, desperate for him to keep going for as long as possible.
“That’s it. Atta girl. There we go.”
You’re trying to catch your breath as Declan stands up, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. His fingers draw patterns on your hips, absentmindedly calming you down as you nestle into him, seeking out his body heat.
You lean up and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth eagerly. He tastes like you, and the realisation makes you whinge.
“Let me return the favour, please,” you whisper against his lips.
“As much as I’d love that, darlin’… we can’t.”
You quirk a brow at him in confusion, his rejection more than unusual.
“It’s twenty past eight.”
“Oh, shit,” you groan, finding your underwear and pulling them up your legs.
“I wish I could stay,” he reassures as he kisses you again sweetly. “You know I do.”
You nod, running your fingers through his sweat soaked locks to move them out of his face.
“Promise I’ll repay you next time.”
“I’ll hold ya to that.”
The phone ringing startles you both, your heart jumping in your chest. You pick it up quickly, wrapping the cord around your finger.
“Hello? How are you? Ah, good. Yes, fine. Alright, I’ll see you then. Yes, see you soon. Mhmm… I can’t wait either.”
You put it down just as quickly as you picked it up, finding your dress from the floor and pulling it over your head.
“That was Patrick. He’s at the train station, about to start the drive back here. He won’t be long.”
“I best get going then,” Declan says as he buttons up his shirt. “Don’t need a family reunion in your living room now, do we?”
You shake your head, scoffing at his attempt at a joke. Walking him to the front door, you press his tie from the coat rack into his hand so he doesn’t forget it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I? You’re coming for lunch at the house?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” you say as you lean up to kiss him, sighing at the taste of his lips. “I’ll wear that lacy white lingerie under my dress just for you.”
“Great,” he groans. “Now I have to think about my son seeing that on you when it should be me.”
“You might,” you tease, smoothing out his shirt. “There’s a lot of rooms in that house, Declan.”
“You’re a minx.”
He kisses you once more, big hands cradling your face as he pulls you in.
“See ya tomorrow, sweetheart.”
“Yes, you will.”
You watch him go from your front step, making sure no one sees him leave. As soon as he’s out of sight, you’re shutting the door, trying to tidy the living room frantically. You open the windows, lighting a candle and picking up everything that was knocked to the floor in the lust filled frenzy. You’re covering your tracks as best you can, just like you’ve done countless times before.
You don’t need Patrick asking why the room smells like his dad’s aftershave.
𓏲 ࣪ ˖ tags : offthewall!michael, brother x friend trope, reader is michael’s sisters friend, smut, first time, dry humping.
𓏲 ࣪ ˖ a/n : i absolutely love writing inexperienced michael smut.
ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ slumber party with his sisters and cute pajamas, what could happen tonight ?
⋆˚꩜｡𐔌՞. .՞𐦯⋆. 𐙚 ˚
ever since the four of them became inseparable, life had been a non-stop blur of shared closets, inside jokes, and endless group chats. the three sisters felt less like friends and more like a second family to her, the kind of bond where she could walk into their house without knocking. whether they were doing late-night drive-thrus, cramming for exams together, or just gossiping on their bedroom floor, they were her absolute safe haven.
so, when they called her to pack a bag for an official, old-school sleepover, she didn't hesitate.
the moment she knocked on their front door, it swung open before she could even drop her duffel bag. all three sisters were already waiting in the entryway, a chaotic flurry of matching oversized hoodies and messy buns. a deafening chorus of squeals and high-pitched "oh my god, you're finally here!" echoed through the hall as they instantly pulled her into a massive, suffocating group hug. the energy in the house was instantly magnetic and bubbling over with excitement. music was already blasting faintly from upstairs, the warm scent of freshly baked cookies drifted from the kitchen, and pillows were scattered all over the living room floor. they immediately grabbed her hands, dragging her inside while talking all at once about the movies they were going to watch, completely ready for the perfect night in.
"oh my god, finally!" latoya squealed, practically ripping the duffel bag out of her hands the second she stepped through the door. "we've been waiting for literally hours, i swear Janet was about to eat the raw cookie dough."
"i was not!" janet yelled from the top of the stairs, running down in her oversized sweatshirt and nearly slipping on the hardwood floor. she threw her arms around her, squeezing tight. "ignore her. i'm so glad you're here. we have so much to talk about, you have no idea."
rebbie walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel with a huge smile on her face. "okay girls, let her breathe first! but seriously, come inside. the kitchen is fully stocked, the blankets are already set up in the room, and we are not sleeping until at least four am."
"more like five," latoya corrected, linking her arm through hers and pulling her toward the stairs. "come on, let's go put your stuff in my room. we need to pick out which pajamas you're wearing tonight, i bought matching ones for all of us!"
she followed latoya up the stairs, the familiar wooden steps creaking beneath their feet as janet trailed closely behind, already buzzing about the playlist she had spent the last two hours curating. the warmth of the house wrapped around her like a blanket, completely erasing whatever stress she had carried in with her.
"wait, wait, wait," janet said, catching up to them at the top of the landing and gently grabbing her shoulder to spin her around. "before we even look at the pajamas, you have to tell us everything. did you see him today? did he say anything?"
latoya tossed the duffel bag onto her unmade bed and spun around, her eyes wide with instant anticipation. "oh my god, yes! please tell me there is tea. i've been dying for an update all week."
she couldn't help but laugh, feeling her cheeks flush slightly under their intense, eager gazes. before she could even answer, rebbie walked into the bedroom holding a giant bowl of warm popcorn, looking at her two younger sisters with an amused shake of her head.
"let her sit down first, you two are like vultures," rebbie teased, though she quickly set the bowl on the nightstand and sat cross-legged on the edge of the mattress, leaning in. "but seriously... spill. we want details."
she giggled, kicking off her socks and hopping onto the bed, curling her legs underneath her. "ugh okay, okay, fine! so, i was walking down the hallway earlier, right? and he was just standing there by his locker, looking ridiculously handsome as usual. and then, out of nowhere, he actually looked up, smiled right at me, and said hi."
"no way!" janet gasped, slapping her hand over her mouth as she leaned in closer. "did he just say hi, or was it like... a meaningful hi?"
"it was totally a meaningful hi," latoya insisted, nodding her head vigorously. "i'm telling you, he definitely has a crush on her. the vibe is so obvious."
outside in the hallway, michael was just walking past the half-open bedroom door, holding a glass of juice. hearing the sudden burst of high-pitched squeals and his sisters' frantic whispering, he paused. he leaned his shoulder against the wall for just two seconds, a quiet, amused smirk growing on his face as he listened to them completely over-analyze the whole interaction.
"i swear, you guys are making a big deal out of nothing," she blushed, tossing a piece of popcorn at latoya. "he was probably just being polite! and i don’t even like him !"
michael shook his head, biting his lip to keep from laughing out loud at how dramatic his sisters were being. before anyone could notice him standing there, he quietly stepped away from the door and headed back downstairs, leaving the girls to their endless gossip.
"okay, enough gossip for a second, we need to get into character," latoya declared, jumping up from the bed and throwing open her closet doors. "pajama time!"
she and janet started rummaging through the shelves, tossing pairs of silk, flannel, and oversized t-shirts onto the floor. "wait, where is that new set we bought last week?" janet asked, digging through a drawer. "the one we said would look absolutely perfect on her?"
"oh, i found it!" latoya squealed, pulling out a matching set from the very back.
she handed it over, and when she held it up, her eyes widened. it was an incredibly cute, soft pastel-colored set, but the shorts were definitely on the shorter side, and the matching camisole top had dainty little lace edges.
"oh my god, yes! it's literally so adorable," janet gasped, clapping her hands together. "you have to wear this one tonight, it's going to look so cute on you!"
rebbie looked over from the bed and laughed, nodding in agreement. "it really is super cute. go try it on in the bathroom, let's see!"
she held the soft fabric in her hands, feeling a little shy but completely loving how pretty it was. "alright, alright, i'll go change," she said, giggling as she grabbed the tiny pajama set and headed out into the hallway toward the bathroom.
she slipped into the bathroom and quickly changed, checking her reflection in the mirror. the fabric was incredibly soft, and the pastel color looked absolutely perfect against her skin. when she turned around to look at the shorts, she realized they were definitely a little shorter than what she usually wore, hugging her curves perfectly, while the lace camisole top sat delicately on her shoulders. it was the perfect mix of super cute and a little bit playful. she unlocked the door and stepped back into the bedroom, feeling a tiny bit shy but smiling.
the moment she walked in, latoya and janet literally stopped what they were doing and gasped.
"oh my god, stop it right now!" janet squealed, jumping off the bed. "it looks even better than I thought it would! it fits you perfectly!"
"i knew it!" latoya cheered, clapping her hands and doing a little victory dance. "it is so incredibly cute on you! look at you, you look amazing!"
rebbie smiled warmly, nodding in total agreement. "it really does look gorgeous on you. see? i told you it would suit you perfectly. now come sit back down, we need to pick the first movie!"
"okay, fine, i'll keep them on," she giggled, smoothing down the soft fabric of her shorts. "but before we start any movie, i'm going to grab some more popcorn from the kitchen. we're already almost out."
"good idea, bring the soda too!" janet called out as she curled up under a pile of blankets.
she stepped out of the bedroom and back into the quiet hallway. the house was peaceful compared to the chaotic energy upstairs, with only the dim lights illuminating her way down the stairs. her bare feet made no sound against the wooden steps as she made her way toward the kitchen, completely unaware of anything else, just focused on grabbing the snacks for their perfect night in.
she stepped into the brightly lit kitchen, her bare feet padding softly against the cold linoleum floor. the room was quiet, a stark contrast to the giggly chaos upstairs. she walked over to the counter, reaching for the bag of popcorn kernels, completely unaware that she wasn't alone.
when she turned around, her heart skipped a beat.
michael was standing by the refrigerator, holding a glass of ice water. he had been in the middle of taking a sip, but the moment his eyes landed on her, he paused, his eyes widening just a fraction in sheer surprise.
the kitchen suddenly felt incredibly small, the air thick with an instant, unexpected wave of tension. michael’s gaze drifted down, taking in the sight of her in the pastel pajamas. the short shorts fully exposed her legs, and the delicate lace camisole sat softly against her collarbones, making her look both incredibly sweet and devastatingly pretty. a sudden, genuine blush crept up michael's own neck, his throat going completely dry as he quickly looked back up, looking incredibly flustered by the sight.
a soft, warm flush crept up her neck and rushed into her cheeks as well. she suddenly felt hyper-aware of how short the pajamas actually were, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
"oh... hey, michael," she murmured, her voice a little softer and breathier than she intended, breaking the quiet stillness of the room.
michael slowly lowered his glass, his hand shaking just a tiny bit as he tried to clear his throat. a shy, slightly nervous smile played at the corner of his lips, completely replacing his usual composure. his voice was deep and smooth, but had a soft, hesitant edge to it that sent a tiny shiver down her spine. "hey. i thought you guys were upstairs planning a movie marathon."
"we are," she said, holding the popcorn bowl in front of her like a shield, though it didn't do much to hide how perfectly the fabric hugged her waist. "i just... came down to get some more snacks. we ran out."
"i see," michael murmured, taking a slow, almost cautious step forward to place his glass on the counter. he closed the distance between them just enough for her to catch the faint, clean scent of his cologne, though his eyes nervously flicked away for a second before locking back onto hers. he held her gaze with an intense, quiet curiosity that made her breath catch in her throat. "those are... nice pajamas. are they new?"
her cheeks burned even hotter. "um, yeah. latoya and janet picked them out for me."
"well," michael replied, his voice dropping a pitch, his fingers nervously tapping against the counter as a heavy, passive undertone filled the space between them. his eyes flicked down to her lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her gaze again, his shy smile widening just a fraction as his own cheeks turned a light pink. "they have good taste. it suits you really well."
"thanks," she whispered, completely trapped under his gaze, the unspoken tension between them practically vibrating in the quiet kitchen.
michael let the silence stretch for one more intoxicating second, looking completely captivated and a little breathless himself, before he finally broke the spell. he reached out, his fingers brushing against hers for a brief, electric moment as he tapped the side of her popcorn bowl, his gaze dropping shyly. "you better get back upstairs before they come looking for you. janet gets impatient."
"right. yeah," she breathed, giving him a shy, lingering smile as she quickly turned to head back to the stairs, her heart racing a mile a minute while his eyes softly followed her all the way out of the room.
michael walked down the hallway toward his own bedroom, the cold glass of water in his hand completely forgotten as his mind replayed the scene in the kitchen over and over again.
he couldn't shake the image of her standing under the warm kitchen lights. the sight of her in those pastel pajamas had completely caught him off guard, making his heart do a strange, sudden flip in his chest. a deep, intense blush rushed right back into his cheeks in the dark just thinking about how those short shorts had highlighted the soft curves of her legs, and he quickly covered his face with his hands, feeling incredibly flustered.
"oh god, michael, stop it," he muttered to himself, taking a deep, shaky breath.
he knew he shouldn't be thinking about her like that. she was his sisters' absolute best friend, practically a part of the family, and she was only upstairs for a fun, innocent sleepover. it felt so wrong to have his mind racing over how pretty she looked or how delicate the lace on her top was. he climbed into bed and pulled the blanket over his shoulders, determined to just close his eyes and force himself to think about literally anything else.
but the harder he tried to ignore it, the more his mind kept drifting back to the kitchen. he replayed the way her voice had gotten all soft and nervous when she whispered his name, and how his own hands had been slightly shaking when he set his glass down. he rolled over, burying his face in his pillow with a quiet, frustrated groan. he was completely captivated, and no matter how much his shy, guilty conscience told him to stop, his heart was still pounding a mile a minute at the memory of her lingering smile.
back upstairs, the bedroom doors slammed shut behind her, and the quiet, tense atmosphere of the hallway instantly vanished, swallowed whole by the explosion of pure energy waiting for her inside.
"finally! what took you so long, did you have to grow the corn yourself?" janet teased, immediately grabbing the popcorn bowl from her hands and setting it in the middle of the bed.
"i just... got lost in thought, sorry," she stammered, her heart still hammering against her ribs as she quickly crawled back into the mountain of blankets and pillows.
she shook her head hard, desperately trying to blink away the image of michael’s blushing face, the deep warmth of his voice, and the way his fingers had brushed against hers. it was crazy. he was her best friends' brother, and it had just been an awkward accident in the kitchen. she needed to completely drop it and focus on the night.
"okay, no more waiting! music first, then movies!" latoya cranked up the volume on the stereo, and the room instantly transformed into a private concert.
within seconds, the four of them were jumping up and down on the mattress, screaming the lyrics to their favorite songs at the top of their lungs. rebbie was using a hairbrush as a microphone, while janet and latoya tried to teach her a completely chaotic, improvised dance routine that had everyone laughing so hard their stomachs hurt. whenever they paused to catch their breath, they would dive back into the blankets, shoving handfuls of popcorn into their mouths and talking over each other about gossip, boys, and endless inside jokes.
every single time michael's face popped into her head, she would laugh a little louder, dance a little harder, or throw a pillow at janet just to force herself to stay in the zone. she was surrounded by her absolute favorite people, the room was buzzing with perfect, loud energy, and she was determined to just lose herself in the fun and completely forget about the breathless tension downstairs.
meanwhile, in his own bedroom, michael was still tossing and turning under his covers, the distant sound of his sisters' music and muffled laughter vibrating through the floorboards. he stared up at the ceiling, but his mind wasn't just stuck on how pretty she had looked in those pastel pajamas anymore.
a completely different thought suddenly hit him, making him sit straight up in bed.
he remembered what he had overheard just an hour earlier when he was standing outside the girls' bedroom door. he vividly recalled his sisters squealing and giggling, and her soft, blushing voice saying, "he actually looked up, smiled right at me, and said hi."
michael's chest tightened a little bit at the memory. a wave of nervous curiosity washed over him as he leaned his chin on his knees, staring into the dark room. who exactly were they talking about? who was the guy by the locker?
he started over-analyzing everything, his naturally shy and overthinking mind going into overdrive. he wondered if this mystery guy was her actual crush, or if she was secretly in love with someone from school. the mere thought of her smiling at another boy the way she had just smiled at him in the kitchen made a strange, unfamiliar spark of jealousy twist in his stomach.
he let out a soft, frustrated sigh, burying his face in his hands. he hated that he was caring this much, especially since she was his sisters' best friend, but he couldn't help it. he just kept wondering if her heart already belonged to someone else, or if the intense, breathless tension they had just shared downstairs meant that maybe, just maybe, he was the one actually catching her attention.
hours later, the wild energy in the bedroom finally started to mellow down. the loud music had been turned off, replaced by the soft, low hum of a movie playing on the television screen, casting flickering shadows across the walls.
the chaotic dancing and singing had completely exhausted them. janet was already half-asleep, curled up like a ball at the foot of the bed with a fluffy blanket pulled up to her chin, her eyes blinking heavily at the screen. rebbie was leaned back against a mountain of pillows, letting out a soft yawn as she lazily reached into the almost empty bowl for the last few crumbs of popcorn.
she sat cross-legged next to latoya, who was fighting a losing battle against her own eyelids, her head nodding off every few seconds. the heavy blanket felt incredibly warm and cozy over her legs, and the exhaustion from all the laughing and jumping was finally catching up to her too.
every once in a while, as the room fell into a peaceful, sleepy quiet, her eyes would drift toward the closed bedroom door. now that the noise had died down, the memory of michael in the kitchen began to sneak its way back into her thoughts. she wondered if he was already asleep downstairs, or if he was still awake, completely oblivious to how much her heart was still reacting to that brief, breathless moment. but with latoya softly snoring next to her, she just let her head sink deeper into the pillow, letting the cozy tiredness finally take over.
no matter how much she tried to let the cozy tiredness take over, sleep just wouldn't come. every time she closed her eyes, her mind instantly dragged her back to the kitchen, replaying the soft, deep pitch of michael's voice and the quiet, breathless look in his eyes. the bedroom felt suddenly suffocatingly warm under the heavy blankets, and her skin felt entirely too hot against the soft pastel fabric of her pajamas.
carefully, so she wouldn't wake up janet or latoya, she slid out from under the covers. her bare feet touched the cool floor, giving her a small rush of relief.
she quietly slipped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her until it clicked shut with barely a sound. the hallway was pitch black and completely still, save for the pale moonlight filtering through the window at the end of the hall. she padded softly down the corridor, her heart doing a nervous little flutter as she approached the bathroom—which was located directly across from michael's bedroom door.
she gently pushed the bathroom door open and stepped inside, leaving it a jar so she wouldn't make noise with the lock. twisting the faucet, she let the cold water run over her wrists before splashing a bit of it onto her face and neck to cool down her flushed skin. resting her hands on the edge of the sink, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, staring at her reflection in the dim light, completely unaware of the shadow moving just across the hall.
inside his room, michael was staring blankly at his bedroom ceiling, still wide awake. the house had fallen completely silent hours ago, but his mind was still spinning in circles, completely unable to settle down.
then, through the quiet stillness of the night, he caught a faint sound. it was the soft creak of a floorboard right outside his room, followed by the quiet, distinct hiss of running water coming from the bathroom just across the hall.
michael sat up instantly, his heart doing a sudden, nervous leap against his ribs. he knew his sisters were exhausted and probably fast asleep by now, which meant it had to be her.
he sat on the edge of his mattress, his hands gripping the sheets as a heavy wave of shyness and hesitation washed over him. a part of him wanted to just stay in bed and ignore it, too nervous to face her again after how intense things had felt in the kitchen. but another part of him—the part that had been overthinking all night—wondered if she was okay, or if she needed something.
should he go out there? what if he made things weird?
he took a deep, quiet breath, his heart pounding in his ears. slowly, nervously, he slid his feet onto the cool floor, hesitating for one more long second before he finally stood up, quietly stepping toward his bedroom door to see if he should check on her.
he realized he couldn't just sit there anymore. his own skin felt completely flushed and hot from all the restless tossing and turning, and he desperately needed some cold water to clear his head and cool down.
taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, michael quietly turned the doorknob and stepped out into the dark hallway, wearing just his loose t-shirt and pajama pants.
but the exact moment he crossed the threshold of his bedroom, he froze.
she had just stepped out of the bathroom at that very second, and they ended up standing barely a foot away from each other, completely trapping her between the bathroom door and his own room. the hallway was narrow and cast in deep, silvery moonlight, making the sudden closeness feel incredibly intense.
michael's breath hitched in his throat, his eyes instantly widening as his hands instinctively gripped the sides of his doorframe. in the dim light, the sight of her in those short, lace-trimmed pajamas took his breath away all over again, especially with her skin still glistening slightly from the cold water. a heavy, suffocating wave of shy tension instantly locked them both in place, neither of them moving a muscle as they stared at each other in the absolute quiet of the night.
the silence in the narrow hallway was so loud she could practically hear the rapid thumping of her own heart. she stood completely frozen, her eyes wide as she looked up at him, while michael stood in his doorway, looking just as stunned and incredibly flustered.
"oh..." she whispered, her voice barely a breath in the quiet night. "i... i didn't mean to wake you up."
"you didn't," michael replied quickly, his voice dropping to a very soft, hesitant murmur. he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes shifting down to the floor for a second before drifting back up to her face. "i was... i couldn't sleep either. it's really warm tonight."
"yeah," she agreed, shifting her weight shyly from one foot to the other, acutely aware of how close they were standing. "i just came to splash some cold water on my face."
"me too," he said, a tiny, genuine smile breaking through his nervousness. he took a half-step back, creating just a bit of space, though his gaze remained totally locked onto hers. "are you... are you okay? you looked a little distracted upstairs earlier."
her cheeks instantly burned, grateful for the dim moonlight hiding her deep blush. "i'm fine. just... thinking about things."
michael let out a very soft, quiet breath that sounded almost like a sigh, his fingers nervously tapping against the doorframe. he bit his lip, his shy nature making him hesitate before he spoke again, his voice lower and full of that heavy, passive tension from earlier. "were you... thinking about the kitchen?"
her breath caught in her throat. she didn't expect him to be so direct, especially since he looked so shy. "maybe," she whispered, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "were you?"
michael's own cheeks turned a dark pink, and he looked down with a small, breathless chuckle, completely captivated. "yeah," he admitted softly, his dark eyes meeting hers again with total honesty. "i was. i couldn't get it out of my head, actually."
the confession hung heavily in the air between them, making the space feel warmer than before. they just stood there for a long moment, completely trapped in the quiet intimacy of the hallway, neither of them quite ready to break the spell and go back to bed.
the tension in the hallway suddenly became so thick you could have cut it with a knife. the simple confession that they had been thinking about each other shifted the entire atmosphere. it was no longer just awkward shyness; it was pure, electric, and palpable energy that made both of their hearts race at a completely frantic pace.
michael took a tiny, almost imperceptible step forward, stepping completely out of his room. the movement was purely instinctual, driven by an invisible magnetic pull drawing them closer. in the dead silence of the night, the sound of their breathing—now a little shorter and heavier—echoed like an intimate secret between them.
his large, dark eyes, usually so reserved, held an intense warmth under the silvery moonlight. he didn't break eye contact for a single second. his gaze slowly drifted down her face, lingering for a fraction of a second on her lips, before sliding down to the delicate lace of her pajama top. every single second felt incredibly heavy, charged with unsaid words.
she felt completely hypnotized, unable to move an inch. her skin, which had just been cooled by the water, was burning up all over again under his gaze. she could literally feel the warmth radiating off his body, standing so close that she could have easily reached out and touched his chest. her fingers nervously gripped the soft fabric of her shorts, a sudden rush of goosebumps chilling her arms.
michael ran a nervous hand through his curls, but his eyes never left hers. he tilted his head down just a fraction, his voice dropping to a low, velvety whisper that hovered only inches away from her face.
"i... i should probably let you go back to the room," he breathed, though his feet didn't move an inch. instead, his right hand came up to rest gently against the wall just above her shoulder, subtly trapping her in his space. "but i really don't want you to."
the undertone was so heavy, so loaded with a quiet, shared desire that the air completely left her lungs. they stood there, just a heartbeat away from each other, suspended in that delicious, forbidden mini tension right in front of the bedroom where his sisters were fast asleep.
she couldn't even form a proper reply. her throat felt completely dry, and her eyes darted down to his lips for a brief, agonizing second before snapping back up to meet his intense gaze. the fact that he was usually so quiet and gentle made this sudden boldness absolutely intoxicating.
michael's breathing hitched when he noticed her glance down at his mouth. his hand on the wall trembled ever so slightly, his knuckles brushing against a stray lock of her hair. he was fighting his own overwhelming shyness, his heart hammering so loudly against his ribs he was sure she could hear it in the quiet hallway. he wanted to lean in closer—he desperately wanted to—but the sheer intensity of the moment had him completely paralyzed with nerves.
"michael..." she finally whispered, her voice cracking just a little. she reached out instinctively, her fingers lightly gripping the hem of his loose t-shirt just to steady herself.
the tiny touch shot like electricity straight through him. michael let out a soft, shaky gasp, his eyes widening slightly before darkening with a heavy, uncharacteristic wave of hunger. he leaned down a fraction of an inch more, his face now so close to hers that she could feel the warm breath from his lips brushing against her skin. the scent of his clean cologne completely wrapped around her senses, making her dizzy.
they were both completely terrified of breaking the rules, completely aware that his sisters were just a few yards away, but the magnetic pull between them was overriding everything else. every cell in their bodies was screaming at them to close the tiny gap left between them.
michael slowly lowered his gaze to her lips again, his head tilting naturally as he began to lean in, his movements slow and agonizingly hesitant, giving her every chance to pull away. instead, she leaned her head back against the wall, tilting her chin up to meet him, her eyes fluttering shut in absolute anticipation as they stood on the exact precipice of their very first kiss.
the space between them completely evaporated as his lips finally, gently touched hers.
it was a soft, incredibly hesitant brush of fabric and breath. because it was their very first time, the kiss was filled with a beautiful, shaky innocence. michael’s lips were unbelievably soft, pressing against hers with a quiet, careful reverence, as if he were terrified of rushing her or waking the entire house.
a tiny, breathless gasp slipped from her mouth at the contact, and michael used that exact second to deepen the kiss just a fraction. his movements were slow and agonizingly sweet. he didn't lean in with a wild, practiced confidence; instead, his lips parted slightly, moving against hers with a shy, tentative curiosity that made her knees go completely weak.
her fingers tightened around the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling him just a millimeter closer. that tiny encouragement was all he needed. michael let out a low, shaky sigh into the kiss, his heart hammering wildly against her chest. the hand that had been resting on the wall slowly slid down, his long, slender fingers trembling slightly as they gently brushed against the side of her neck, his thumb resting right over her racing pulse point.
the kiss was sweet, slow, and completely intoxicated by their mutual shyness. every time their lips moved together, it felt like a quiet conversation, a shared secret in the dark hallway. when he finally, slowly pulled back just an inch, his lips lingered for one last, teasing second before he opened his eyes.
michael was completely breathless, his cheeks flushed a deep, dark pink in the moonlight. he kept his hand resting softly against her neck, his dark eyes looking down at her with a mixture of awe, nerves, and absolute captivation, neither of them knowing exactly what to say after the spell they had just broken.
the heavy silence returned to the hallway, but it felt entirely different now. the shy, breathless rush of the kiss hung in the air, leaving them both standing completely frozen, staring at each other with wide, wide-awake eyes.
it was completely obvious that neither of them was going back to sleep anytime soon. their adrenaline was pumping way too fast, and the absolute electricity between them had shattered any chance of tiredness. but because they were both so naturally shy, they just stood there in the dim moonlight, shifting nervously, completely at a loss for words. michael’s hand slowly slipped from her neck, his fingers nervously curling into his palm as his face burned a deep crimson. he looked down, then back up, biting his lip as if he wanted to say something but didn't know how to break the ice.
the awkward, beautiful tension was building up again, and the fear of one of his sisters cracking open their bedroom door at any second was starting to become overwhelming.
suddenly, caught up in a sudden, bold rush of adrenaline, she didn't even think.
before her nerves could stop her, she reached out, her hands flattening against michael's chest. with a quick, decisive shove, she pushed him backward right into his own bedroom. michael let out a soft, surprised gasp, his long legs stumbling back a couple of steps into the dark room as he completely lost his balance for a split second.
she quickly stepped inside right behind him, grabbed the edge of his bedroom door, and pulled it shut until it clicked softly into place.
the room plunged into near-total darkness, save for the faint moonlight cutting through his window blinds. they were now completely isolated from the rest of the house, locked together in his private space, and michael’s jaw dropped just a fraction in sheer, flustered shock at how fast she had just taken control of the situation.
michael was completely frozen in the middle of his room, his back against the edge of his desk where he had stumbled. his eyes were wide, staring at her through the shadows as she leaned back against the closed door, her hands still resting on the doorknob. the click of the lock felt incredibly loud in the silence of his bedroom.
"oh god," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly as the sudden rush of bravery completely drained out of her, leaving her entirely flustered. "i'm sorry... i just... i thought i heard someone moving upstairs, and i panicked."
michael didn't say anything for a long second, his throat completely dry. the darkness of the room amplified everything—the sound of their heavy breathing, the faint scent of his cologne, and the absolute reality that she was now in his room, wearing those pastel pajamas, with the door shut.
slowly, he let out a soft, shaky breath, his shoulders dropping as a tiny, incredibly shy smile broke across his face. "it's... it's okay," he murmured, his voice dropping to that deep, velvety pitch that always made her knees weak. he took a cautious step forward, his bare feet making no sound on the carpet. "you just... you caught me off guard."
"are you mad?" she asked, her heart hammering against her ribs as she looked up at him through the dark.
"mad?" michael let out a quiet, breathless chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks burned a dark crimson. "no. no, i'm not mad at all. i'm just... really glad you're in here."
he stopped just a foot away from her, the familiar, intoxicating closeness from the hallway returning instantly. but here, behind closed doors, the tension felt different. it was safer, more intimate, but twice as intense. michael nervously reached out, his long fingers hesitating in the air for a fraction of a second before he gently took her hand, his palm warm and slightly damp from his own nerves.
"my heart is beating so fast right now," he whispered honestly, his eyes locking onto hers with a quiet intensity. he guided her slowly away from the door, toward the edge of his bed, his shyness still completely visible in the way he kept biting his lip, yet he wasn't letting go of her hand. "sit with me? just... so we can talk. without having to hide in the hallway."
she nodded softly, letting him guide her across the room. every single step felt like they were walking on eggshells, the mutual shyness making the air between them thick and heavy again.
they sat down on the edge of his mattress at the exact same time. but because they were both so incredibly nervous and caught up in the rush of the moment, they didn't calculate the distance right—they sat down so close that their thighs were completely pressed together.
the contact sent a literal jolt of electricity through both of them. michael stiffened slightly, his breath hitching audibly in the dark room, but he didn't move away. not even a millimeter.
he was sitting so close that she could feel the intense, radiating heat coming off his body, completely wrapping around her. the scent of his skin was overwhelming. michael’s hands were resting on his knees, his long fingers twitching nervously as he stared down at them, his face burning a deep, dark crimson that he tried to hide by tilting his head down.
"i... i've never felt like this before," michael whispered into the shadows, his voice so low and velvety it was barely audible. he slowly turned his head to look at her, their faces now only inches apart because of how close they were sitting.
his dark eyes were wide, glittering with a mix of absolute vulnerability and pure desire. he nervously swallowed, his gaze dropping down to her lips for a lingering, heavy second before snapping back to her eyes. she could see his chest rising and falling in short, shallow breaths. the sheer physical closeness was intoxicating; she could feel the exact rhythm of his racing heart vibrating right next to her, and the urge to close that tiny, remaining gap between their lips was driving them both completely crazy.
the suffocating silence between them stretched on, heavy and electric, until michael finally broke it. he cleared his throat, a tiny, nervous sound, and slowly shifted his gaze away from her face, his eyes drifting down to her lap before traveling up the pastel fabric of her pajamas.
"i, um..." he started, his voice cracking slightly before he dropped it into a quiet, breathless murmur. he rubbed the back of his neck, his knuckles practically brushing against her shoulder because of how close they were sitting. "i couldn't help but notice your... your pajamas earlier. in the hallway."
she felt her face instantly flush hot all over again. "oh. really?"
"yeah," michael whispered, a beautiful, incredibly shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his cheeks turned a deeper shade of crimson. he looked down at his own hands, his long fingers nervously wrapping around each other. "they're... they're really pretty on you. the pastel color, and the lace... it's just really delicate. you look beautiful."
he looked back up through his eyelashes, his dark eyes wide and completely sincere, filled with that raw vulnerability that always took her breath away. he nervously bit his lower lip, his gaze dropping to her lips before snapping back to her eyes.
"when you were standing under the moonlight out there," he confessed, his voice dropping to a low, velvety whisper that was meant only for the two of them, "with the water still a little wet on your skin... i just completely forgot how to breathe. i couldn't look away."
her breath completely hitched in her throat at his words. the sweet confession made the air in the room feel twice as warm, and the intense closeness between them became completely unbearable.
neither of them could take the distance anymore.
slowly, almost magnetically, michael started to tilt his head, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a quiet, undeniable intensity. he didn't rush; his movements were slow, hesitant, and completely filled with that deep, agonizing shyness that made every millimeter feel like an eternity. his face began to inch closer to hers, his warm, shallow breaths now directly brushing against her cheek, sending a frantic rush of goosebumps down her neck.
she didn't pull away. instead, she leaned forward just a fraction, her eyes mirroring the exact same heavy desire.
as their faces drew closer and closer, the extreme proximity was intoxicating. michael’s gaze drifted down to her lips, his lower lip trembling slightly as he nervously bit it before letting it go. his right hand, still resting on his knee, slowly slid across the mattress, his long, slender fingers trembling as they brushed against the side of her thigh, silently seeking her support.
they were so close now that the tips of their noses gently grazed against each other in the dark room. the absolute electricity between them was popping, their frantic heartbeats practically melting into one wild rhythm as they hovered just a single breath away from each other, completely trapped in the beautiful, suffocating tension.
the tiny gap between them completely vanished as their lips met for the second time, but the hesitation from before was gone, replaced by a sudden, overwhelming wave of shared desire.
the kiss started soft, but as the intense tension finally broke, it deepened instantly. their mutual shyness was still there, but it was being completely overridden by a frantic, breathless curiosity.
for the very first time, their hands couldn't stay still.
michael let out a low, shaky gasp into her mouth as his right hand finally left the mattress. his long, slender fingers trembled as they slid up her arm, his palm burning hot against her bare skin before wrapping gently around the back of her neck. his fingers tangled directly into her hair, gripping it softly to pull her closer, while his other hand came up to rest flat against her waist, his thumb tracing the soft fabric of her pajama top. the sudden, intimate touch sent a violent jolt of electricity straight down his spine.
she couldn't help herself either. her hands slid up his chest, feeling the frantic, heavy thumping of his heart, before her fingers wrapped around his shoulders and slid up to the nape of his neck, pulling him down into the kiss.
because it was their absolute first time experiencing something this intense, the sheer physical sensation left them both completely stupefied.
when their lips finally parted for air, they didn't pull away completely. they stayed hovered just an inch apart, their foreheads resting against each other, both of them completely breathless and dazed. michael’s dark eyes fluttered open, wide and filled with absolute wonder and a trace of beautiful shock. his hand was still resting on her waist, his fingers twitching slightly as if he couldn't believe he was actually allowed to touch her like this. they just stared at each other in the dim moonlight, completely stunned and utterly captivated by the realization of what they had just done.
the heat in the room completely boiled over as their lips crashed together again. this time, the polite, tentative boundaries they had kept up out of sheer shyness completely dissolved.
michael let out a soft, defeated groan against her mouth, entirely giving up his usual hesitation. instead of trying to control his nerves, he completely surrendered to the moment, letting her take the lead as his long fingers gripped her waist a little tighter, silently begging her not to stop.
driven by a sudden, intoxicating rush of adrenaline, she didn't even think about her next move. it was entirely instinctual.
she shifted her weight forward, her body naturally following the momentum of the kiss. as she leaned into him, michael's shoulders began to give way, tilting backward onto the mattress. she kept her lips locked onto his, crawling forward until she was completely hovering over him, her knees sliding to either side of his hips until she was sitting directly on his lap.
with one final, breathless tilt of his head, michael collapsed completely flat onto his back beneath her.
the transition was seamless and utterly dizzying. michael lay stretched out on the bed, completely pinned beneath her smaller frame, his chest heaving up and down in short, frantic gasps. his dark curls were scattered wildly across his pillow, and his face was a deep, burning crimson in the shadows. his hands had slid from her waist down to her thighs, his fingers trembling violently against her skin as he looked up at her from below, his large eyes wide with a mixture of absolute shock, submission, and total captivation at how completely she had just taken over.
the kiss turned deeper, heavier, and completely consuming. with her sitting directly on his lap, every single point of contact between their bodies was magnified a thousand times over. the initial shock of the position faded, leaving behind a raw, suffocating wave of heat that filled the tiny space between them.
as she shifted slightly against him, her body pressing closer to his hips, she suddenly froze into the kiss.
right beneath her, through the thin, soft layers of their pajama fabric, she could clearly feel that michael was hard. the undeniable physical proof of his excitement was pressed directly against her, firm and burning hot.
michael let out a sharp, choked gasp straight into her mouth, his entire body going completely rigid beneath her. a deep, dark flush instantly rushed from his neck all the way up to his cheeks, turning his face a violent shade of crimson in the shadows. he was so naturally shy that the sudden realization that she could feel everything completely paralyzed him with an intense, beautiful embarrassment.
his hands, which had been resting on her thighs, gripped her fabric tightly, his long fingers trembling violently. he didn't try to move away—he couldn't even if he wanted to—but his eyes fluttered open, wide and dark, looking up at her from the pillow with a mixture of absolute vulnerability, shock, and a quiet, pleading desire that showed just how deeply she was driving him completely crazy.
the heavy, electric atmosphere in the room completely shifted as the initial shock faded into pure, unadulterated instinct.
michael lay pinned beneath her, his chest heaving with every frantic breath, his heart hammering so loudly she could feel it vibrating against her own ribs. the intense shyness that usually paralyzed him suddenly morphed into a quiet, desperate boldness. he couldn't just lie there anymore; the feel of her body pressed directly against his excitement was driving him completely out of his mind.
slowly, his long, slender fingers tightened their grip on her hips, his palms burning hot against the fabric of her shorts.
with a soft, shaky gasp into the kiss, michael slightly arched his back. his hands guided her waist, gently pulling her forward and then pushing down, forcing her to slide just an inch over him. the friction of their bodies rubbing together through the thin pajama fabric was so sudden and intensely sharp that a loud, breathless moan escaped her throat, echoing softly in the dark bedroom.
michael let out a deep, choked groan against her lips at the sound, completely losing his grip on his restraint.
his hips moved again, this time a little more fluidly, a little more demanding, as he began to dictate the slow, heavy rhythm beneath her. he kept his eyes locked onto hers, wide and dark with a wild, vulnerable hunger, watching her reaction in the dim moonlight. every tiny, calculated movement he made forced her to grind directly against his hardness, sending violent jolts of electricity straight down both of their spines and destroying whatever little innocence they had left.
she completely gave in, letting his hands completely control the slow, heavy rhythm of her hips. every single time he guided her to slide down against him, the intense friction against his hardness sent a sharp, intoxicating wave of pleasure straight through her core.
the sensation was so overwhelming that a loud, breathless whimper started to climb up her throat. desperate to keep quiet and terrified of making too much noise in the house, she quickly bit down hard on her own lower lip, trying to stifle the sound as her head tilted back, her eyes fluttering shut.
michael noticed instantly. his dark eyes widened, staring up at her through the shadows, completely mesmerized and driven crazy by the sight of her biting her lip to hold back her groans. his hands tightened on her waist, his thumbs digging into her skin as he arched his hips up one more time, making her grind directly against him.
"m-michael..." she gasped out, her voice trembling and completely breathless as she looked down at him, her hands clutching his shoulders for support. "what... what are you doing?"
michael let out a deep, broken sigh, his head rolling back slightly against the pillow. his face was burning a dark, violent crimson, and his chest was heaving up and down at a frantic pace.
"i... i don't know," michael whispered honestly, his voice dropping into a shaky, velvet murmur that was filled with absolute vulnerability. he looked back up at her, his eyes dark and completely wide with a mix of beautiful confusion and raw desire. "i don't know... but it feels so good. please don't stop."
michael was trying just as hard to stay completely quiet, but it was getting entirely impossible.
the sound of her muffled whimpers and the sight of her biting her lip was pushing him completely over the edge. he clamped his own mouth shut, his jaw clenching so hard that the muscles in his face went completely tight. every time his hips arched up underneath her, forcing that slow, friction-filled rub between them, a deep, heavy groan would threaten to burst out of his chest.
to stop himself from making a sound that could wake up the entire house, michael buried his face directly into the crook of her neck.
his hot, frantic breaths were uneven, burning against her bare skin as he let out a series of sharp, muffled gasps right against her collarbone. his long fingers dug even deeper into her waist, his grip trembling violently as he tried to anchor himself against the overwhelming waves of pleasure. he was moving beneath her with a desperate, quiet intensity now, his eyes squeezed tightly shut in the darkness as he fought to keep his voice trapped inside his throat, every single breath he took turning into a shaky, silent plea against her skin.
she buried her fingers into his dark, messy curls, pulling his head even closer against her neck as another wave of intense heat rushed through her. the feeling of his mouth against her skin and the slow, heavy rhythm of his hips underneath her was completely overwhelming.
"it... it feels so good for me too, michael," she whimpered into the darkness, her voice breaking into a shaky, breathless whisper right next to his ear.
hearing her admission completely destroyed whatever little restraint he had left. michael let out a muffled, trembling gasp directly against her collarbone, his entire body shuddering beneath her smaller frame. knowing that she was feeling the exact same incredible pleasure made his heart race even faster, and his hands gripped her waist with a sudden, desperate strength, guiding her to move against his hardness with a faster, deeper intensity that left them both completely breathless and dizzy.
the frantic pace of their movements was driving them both completely out of their minds, and michael’s hands, driven entirely by pure, raw instinct, finally began to wander.
his grip on her waist loosened just a fraction as his long, slender fingers started to slide slowly upward. his palms were burning hot against the fabric of her pastel pajama top, tracing the curve of her ribs as they moved higher and higher. michael was trembling so violently that he could barely keep his hands steady, his breath catching sharply in his throat as he realized exactly what he was about to do.
before his courage could fade, his hand slid up completely, his palm gently cupping her chest right over the soft fabric.
the moment his fingers brushed against her breast, a loud, muffled gasp escaped michael's throat, buried deep in the crook of her neck. his entire body shuddered underneath her, and his eyes flew wide open in the darkness, filled with absolute shock and a trace of beautiful fear at his own boldness. his hand stayed there, frozen for a split second in pure amazement, before his fingers instinctively flexed, squeezing her softly through the thin material.
the touch sent a massive jolt of electricity straight down her spine, making her arch her back into his hand as a breathless whimper slipped past her lips. hearing her reaction, michael let out another deep, shaky groan against her skin, his thumb starting to brush gently across the tip of her breast while his hips kept up that agonizingly slow, friction-filled rub beneath her, pushing both of them completely over the edge of control.
the overwhelming pleasure of his touch was immediately followed by a sudden, sharp realization that crashed over his mind, making his heart race even faster with pure panic.
she was his sisters' close friend.
he knew, with absolute certainty, that what they were doing was completely wrong. if his sisters ever found out that he had their best friend pinned down on his bed like this, touching her so intimately in the middle of the night, it would be an absolute disaster. he was supposed to be the responsible one, the one who kept his distance, but looking up at her face in the dim moonlight completely shattered all his willpower. he knew it was bad, he knew he shouldn't be doing it, but the feeling of her body on top of his was a temptation he simply could not resist. he was completely powerless against it.
and she was trapped in the exact same internal battle.
she knew she was crossing a major line by being in his bedroom, doing these things with her friends' brother. the guilt should have made her pull away, but every single time his long fingers squeezed her chest or his hips arched up beneath her, all those logical thoughts completely melted away. she couldn't stop herself either. the mutual realization of how forbidden this was only added a dangerous, intoxicating layer to the tension, making them both crave each other even more desperately as they abandoned every single rule they were supposed to follow.
the agonizing friction between their bodies continued to blur every single line of restraint, and as his hips arched up once more, michael felt something that completely short-circuited his brain.
through the two thin, damp layers of their pajama fabric, he could clearly feel a deep, spreading wetness coming from her.
the realization that she was completely soaked for him hit him like a physical blow. it drove him completely, utterly insane. his breath caught violently in his throat, and his dark eyes snapped wide open, staring up at her in the dim light with a wild, dazed intensity. the pure, intoxicating proof of her desire destroyed whatever little shyness he had left, replacing it with a sudden, overwhelming wave of dark confidence.
his hands gripped her waist with a sudden, bruising tightness, pinning her hips firmly against his hardness so she couldn't pull away.
"y-you're..." michael choked out, his voice dropping into a deep, incredibly raspy whisper that trembled with pure arousal. he swallowed hard, a dark flush covering his entire face as he looked straight into her eyes. "you're so wet right here... through your clothes."
she froze, her face burning a violent crimson, but michael didn't let her hide. he arched his hips up again, deliberately sliding his hardness directly against that damp, burning spot, making them both let out a muffled, breathless groan.
"that means you like it," he murmured against her lips, his voice trembling but laced with a quiet, desperate triumph. "you like what i'm doing to you, don't you?"
she swallowed hard, her heart hammering so violently against her ribs she was certain he could feel it. his blunt, whispered words left her completely exposed, and the sheer embarrassment mixed with the intense pleasure made her head spin.
"y-yes..." she breathed out, her voice nothing more than a faint, shaky whisper directly against his ear. she buried her face in his neck to muffle her voice, terrified that even the quietest sound would echo through the hallway. "yes, michael... i love it. it feels so incredible."
hearing her confession, completely raw and vulnerable in the dark, made michael let out a sharp, trembling gasp. his fingers dug even deeper into her hips, his knuckles turning white as he anchored her to him.
"be quiet... please," she whispered desperately against his skin, her lips brushing his neck as she bit down on her lip again to hold back a sudden, heavy whimper. "someone... someone might hear us."
michael’s whole body shuddered underneath her at her plea. he nodded frantically against her shoulder, his jaw clenching so hard it hurt as he fought to suppress the deep, ragged groan building in his chest. he completely understood the danger, but the feeling of her damp pajama fabric pressing tightly against his hardness was driving him too far gone. holding his breath, he tilted his hips up again in a slow, agonizingly deep slide, forcing them both into a suffocating, breathless silence as they tried to survive the overwhelming heat without making a single sound.
the sound of her timid voice, that weak, trembling "yes" crashing against his ear, completely made michael lose his mind. but what was driving him absolutely crazy, more than anything else, was watching her struggle with all her might to not make a sound.
feeling her bury her face against his neck to stifle her cries, hearing her let out tiny, broken whimpers trapped at the back of her throat, and seeing her cruelly bite her lower lip in the shadows... all of it acted like the most powerful aphrodisiac on him. this total vulnerability, this mixture of panic and pure pleasure, was pushing him straight over the edge.
the more she tried to hide, the more michael's excitement skyrocketed, becoming almost painful.
"j-just like that..." he murmured in a tiny, breathless whisper, his voice broken by a shiver that shook his entire frame.
he raised a trembling hand to caress her cheek, his fingers sliding gently down to her mouth to delicately touch her bitten lip, silently urging her to release it so he could catch her complaints. with his other hand, he pressed her even more firmly against him. the fact that she had to hold back her groans made every single rub, every movement of the hips he forced upon her, a thousand times more intense. he deliberately played with that limit, slowing down the rhythm and then picking it right back up, cruelly savoring the tiny, broken sighs she couldn't manage to keep inside, which died directly against his burning skin.
her fingers dug deeper into the soft fabric of his shirt as he picked up the pace beneath her, his hips moving in a rhythmic, torturous friction that had them both completely gasping for air.
every single time she tried to swallow a groan, her entire body would shudder, and michael would feel that sharp, exquisite contraction right against his hardness. it was a beautiful, agonizing feedback loop. the tighter she clamped her jaw, the more his fingers bruised her hips, pushing her down onto him to force another stifled sound out of her.
"please," she whimpered, her voice cracking as she pressed her forehead against his shoulder. "michael, i can't... it's too much."
"i know," he breathed back, his own voice completely wrecked, rough and uncharacteristically dark. "i know, sweetie... just stay right here. don't move away from me."
he was completely blind to everything else now—the risk, the house, his sisters sleeping just down the hall—none of it mattered compared to the damp, scorching heat spreading between their pajamas. shifted by pure instinct, michael slid his hands from her waist down to the back of her thighs, lifting her slightly just to bring her down harder against him.
the sudden, deeper impact made her eyes snap wide open, a sharp, high-pitched gasp slipping past her lips before she could stop it. michael caught the sound directly with his own mouth, leaning up to kiss her frantically, drinking in her whimpers and her taste as they completely melted into the quiet, breathless rhythm of the dark room.
the slow, agonizing friction between them was no longer enough. the thin layers of their pajama fabric felt less like clothing and more like a cruel barrier keeping them apart, and they both could feel the sudden, undeniable shift in the air. they wanted more. they wanted to go completely all the way.
michael’s breath hitched as a heavy, desperate ache settled deep in his chest. his hands, still trembling violently against the back of her thighs, tightened instinctively, pulling her hips down against his hardness with a sudden, needy force. he wanted to strip away the clothes, to feel her bare skin against his, to completely lose himself in her. the fear of getting caught and the intense shyness that usually governed him were completely gone, burned away by a raw, overwhelming urge to take this as far as it could possibly go.
she felt it too, a fierce, hollow ache pooling deep inside her that demanded to be filled.
she stopped trying to hold herself back. leaning down, she pressed her chest entirely flat against his, her heartbeat racing frantically against his own. she began to shift her hips on him with a new, deliberate urgency, non-verbally telling him exactly what she was craving. they were both completely dazed, hovering on the exact edge of a point of no return, both of them silently silently consenting to cross the final line into the darkness together.
the heavy, suffocating tension reached a breaking point where words couldn't be avoided anymore. michael’s breath was coming in short, ragged gasps, his lips brushing against her ear as he struggled to find his voice through the sheer intensity of his nerves.
"can i..." he choked out, his whisper incredibly soft, trembling with a mixture of intense shyness and desperate desire.
his hands slid up from her thighs, his long, warm fingers resting gently against the waistband of her pajama shorts. he didn't pull them down; he just held her there, his large, dark eyes looking up at her in the dim light, completely wide and pleading for permission.
"can i try... try it with you? please?" he murmured, his face burning a violent crimson as he explicitly asked to cross that final line. "i want to... so bad. if you want to."
she stared down at him, her heart doing a violent flip at his raw, honest question. the gravity of what they were about to do settled over her, making her voice shake even more than before.
"michael..." she whispered, leaning down so her lips almost touched his. "i want to. but... this is my first time. i've never done this before."
michael’s eyes widened slightly in the dark, a soft, breathless gasp leaving his lips. the confession didn't make him pull away; instead, a wave of pure tenderness and a strange, comforting relief washed over his face, softening the intense hunger in his eyes.
"really?" he murmured, his voice dropping into the gentlest, most vulnerable whisper. he swallowed hard, his grip on her waistband loosening just enough to caress her hip softly. "it... it is for me too. i've never done this with anyone."
the admission hung beautifully in the quiet space between them. the world's biggest superstar, pinned beneath her in the dark, admitting his own innocence. knowing that they were both standing on the edge of the exact same unknown territory completely erased the lingering fear, binding them together in a sudden, deep trust as they prepared to take that huge step together.
she nodded slowly, the weight of their mutual secret making her heart pound even faster against her ribs. she leaned down until her forehead was resting against his, her breath warm against his cheek.
"okay," she breathed, her voice a tiny, barely audible thread of sound. "but... we have to be so careful. we have to be even more quiet now, michael. promise me."
michael nodded frantically against the pillow, his long fingers instantly tightening around her waist to pull her closer, as if physically anchoring them both to the promise of absolute silence.
"i promise, i promise," he whispered back desperately, his voice cracking with emotion.
he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he tried to prepare himself for what was coming. the stakes felt impossibly high now, but the pure, overwhelming connection of sharing their very first time together made the risk entirely worth it. holding his breath, he slowly began to guide her shorts down her hips, both of them freezing at every tiny rustle of fabric, completely locked in a tense, suffocating silence as they prepared to cross the line.
every single movement had to be completely slow and deliberate now. holding his breath, michael wrapped his long arms securely around her waist, his touch incredibly gentle as he prepared to shift their positions.
with absolute care, he rolled them over together on the mattress, making sure the heavy blankets muffled the slight creak of the bed springs. she felt a sudden, dizzying rush of air as she was lifted, and a second later, she was the one lying flat on her back against the soft pillows, with michael's tall, slender frame hovering completely over her.
he rested his weight on his forearms on either side of her head, careful not to crush her, his chest heaving silently against hers.
looking down at her in the dim moonlight, his dark eyes were completely wide, filled with a mixture of raw reverence and absolute nerves. being on top made everything feel intensely real, the heavy heat of his body pinning her down and leaving them both completely exposed to the unfamiliar territory they were about to explore together.
hovering over her in the quiet room, michael completely froze, his breath catching so hard in his throat it felt like his heart had stopped entirely.
the view of her lying beneath him in the dim moonlight was completely breathtaking. with her dark hair splayed out across his pillows, her cheeks flushed a deep, beautiful crimson, and her lips slightly parted as she gasped for air, she looked more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. the shadows cast a soft glow over her bare shoulders and the gentle rise and fall of her chest, making the moment feel almost sacred to him.
he was completely, utterly transfixed.
his large, expressive eyes widened as he drank in every single detail, a wave of profound reverence washing over his face and melting away a fraction of his frantic nervousness. he felt incredibly small, yet unbelievably lucky, to be the only person in the world looking at her like this. his gaze dropped to her lips, then drifted back up to meet her eyes, his entire body trembling slightly from the sheer emotional weight of the view before him.
sensing the weight of her eyes on him, michael swallows hard, his face burning an even deeper shade of crimson. he slowly shifts his weight, sitting back on his knees just enough to give himself room, though he never takes his gaze off her for more than a second.
with trembling fingers, he reaches down to the hem of his pajama shirt. his movements are incredibly hesitant, a textbook display of his deep, natural shyness. he hesitates for a long moment, his knuckles brushing against his stomach, before he slowly lifts the fabric up and pulls the shirt over his head, discarding it quietly onto the edge of the mattress.
without the shirt, his tall, slender frame is completely exposed to the dim moonlight. his shoulders are lean, his chest rising and falling in rapid, silent breaths that reveal just how fast his heart is racing.
he pauses again, his hands hovering nervously over the waistband of his pajama pants. he looks down at her, his large, dark eyes filled with a beautiful, raw vulnerability, silently checking to make sure she's still okay with every single step he takes. slowly, carefully, and without making a sound, he slides the remaining fabric down his long legs, completely shedding his final defense and leaving himself just as exposed and vulnerable as she is.
returning to her side, he hovered over her once more, the sudden heat of his bare skin against hers sending a massive jolt of electricity through both of their bodies. for a second, neither of them moved, just listening to the synchronized, frantic racing of their hearts in the absolute quiet of the room.
then, michael leaned down and closed the final distance between them.
their lips met in a kiss that was completely different from before—it was deeper, heavier, and charged with the raw knowledge of what they were about to share. michael’s mouth was burning hot against hers, his lips parting softly to drink in her quiet gasp. it started off incredibly tender and hesitant, a gentle tasting born from his natural shyness, but as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, the kiss instantly deepened.
he let out a low, shaky vibration against her mouth, a soundless moan of pure surrender.
his long fingers slid into her hair, gripping the strands gently to tilt her head just right, deepening the angle of the kiss. they moved together in perfect, breathless harmony, their tongues tangling in a slow, intoxicating rhythm that completely erased the outside world. the kiss became their lifeline, a way to pour all their overwhelming love, desire, and anxiety into one single point of contact, while keeping them both completely locked in the silent, forbidden safety of the dark.
breaking the kiss for just a fraction of a second to catch his breath, michael rested his forehead against hers, his eyes completely dark and hooded with intense desire. slowly, deliberately, he let his hands begin to wander.
his long, slender fingers started at her bare shoulders, his palms burning hot against her skin. he traced the delicate line of her collarbone, his touch so light and careful it felt like a silent reassurance, a way to make sure she was still with him at every single step. a full-body shiver ran through him as he slid his hands down the sides of her ribs, his thumbs lightly brushing against the sensitive skin there.
every time her breath hitched, his hands would freeze for a second, his large eyes scanning her face in the moonlight to check on her before he kept going.
gaining a little more confidence from her warm response, his hands wandered lower, mapping out the gentle curve of her waist. his palms smoothed over her hips, pulling her body just a fraction closer to his bare chest so he could feel the frantic, rhythmic pounding of her heart against his own. it was a slow, intoxicating exploration, his hands memorizing every single inch of her shape in the absolute silence of the bedroom.
breaking the kiss just enough to look at her again, michael rested his forehead against hers, his breath coming in shallow, uneven pants. his large, expressive eyes scanned her face, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and her dark hair completely fanned out across his pillow.
"you're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice incredibly low and raspy, trembling with an intensity that came straight from his heart.
he brought one hand up to gently cup her cheek, his thumb softly brushing over her warm skin. his gaze drifted down her body, taking in the soft contours of her silhouette in the dim moonlight before returning to meet her eyes.
"you're completely magnificent like this... i can't even breathe," he murmured against her lips, his fingers sliding into her hair to hold her close. the sheer awe in his voice made the words feel like a sacred promise, entirely stripped of any pretense, leaving only the raw, breathless truth of how deeply she captivated him in the quiet darkness.
the agonizing wait and the intense closeness had pushed them both to a point where they couldn't endure the distance for another second. hovering directly over her, michael’s breath came in ragged, shallow gasps, his entire body trembling from the sheer effort of holding himself back. he slid his hands down to frame her face, his long fingers tangling gently in her hair as he tilted his head down, his dark eyes wide, dark, and completely consumed by a desperate, protective tenderness.
"can i..." he choked out, his whisper so low it was almost lost in the quiet room. his throat swallowed hard as he explicitly forced the words out, his face burning with a beautiful, raw shyness. "can i enter you now? please, sweetie... i want to be inside you so bad."
hearing his raw request broke the last shred of her restraint. she looked up into his eyes, her gaze completely clouded with a heavy, overwhelming desire that had become almost painful to bear.
"yes," she breathed out, the word escaping her lips as a soft, slightly begging whine. she arched her hips up just a fraction against him, her fingers digging desperately into his shoulders. "yes, michael... please. now. i can't take it anymore."
her pleading tone sent a violent shiver straight down michael's spine. the raw vulnerability of her voice, combined with her explicit permission, completely shattered his remaining control, leaving them both completely breathless as he prepared to finally cross that final, sacred line.
holding his breath, michael slowly slid his weight down between her thighs, his long body trembling with an intensity he had never felt before. the absolute silence of the room made every single heartbeat feel like a thunderclap against his ribs.
with his face burning a deep, feverish crimson, he reached down between them. his fingers were shaking violently as his hand closed around his length, his touch incredibly hesitant. it was a completely surreal sensation—the intense, throbbing heat of himself held in his own hand, completely bare and exposed to the quiet night.
slowly, with agonizing care, he guided himself forward until the very tip of his warmth brushed directly against her opening.
the initial point of contact was completely electric. just that tiny, feather-light touch sent a massive jolt straight up his spine, making his vision blur for a fraction of a second. for her, the sensation was just as overwhelming—a sudden, blooming heat right at the threshold, a soft, damp friction that felt incredibly large and intimidating, yet intensely desired.
he didn't push forward. because it was their very first time, he simply held himself right there, hovering at the absolute edge of her. the hypersensitive skin of his tip rested gently against her, feeling the frantic, fluttering pulse of her body welcoming his heat.
"oh god..." michael whispered, a tiny, broken gasp escaping his lips.
he froze completely, his arms locking on either side of her head as he looked down into her eyes. his chest was heaving silently, his raw, dark gaze completely locked onto hers, making sure she was breathing through the sudden, intense rush of nerves as they both hovered on the exact precipice of becoming one. taking a deep, shaky breath, michael braced his weight on his forearms, his eyes locked completely onto hers as he made the conscious choice to move forward.
with agonizing slowness, he began to push inward.
the immediate sensation was unlike anything either of them had ever imagined. for michael, it felt like being pulled into a tight, incredibly hot, and velvety glove that wrapped around his sensitive skin with a breathtaking pressure. the sheer warmth of her body enveloping him made his head spin, a low, helpless gasp dying at the back of his throat as he forced himself to stay completely in control, moving only millimeter by millimeter.
for her, the feeling was a sudden, intense fullness that stretched her open, a deep, heavy warmth that filled the ache inside her with a stunning reality. it was tight—almost painfully so at first—making her jaw clench automatically as her body adjusted to the unfamiliar weight and shape of him taking up space inside her.
"shh... just breathe, sweetie, just breathe," michael whispered, his voice completely wrecked and cracking with emotion as he felt her body tense slightly.
he stopped moving entirely, burying his face in the crook of her neck, letting her get used to the initial stretch. he could feel the frantic, rhythmic pulsing of her walls squeezing tightly around him, a sensation so incredibly intimate and intense that a violent shiver ran through his entire length.
slowly, as she let out a long, trembling breath and relaxed beneath him, he pushed just a fraction deeper, discovering the intoxicating friction of their skin sliding together for the very first time. they were completely suspended in the quiet darkness, both of them overwhelmed by the raw, magnificent reality of finally being connected, one slow, careful inch at a time.
the intense tightness of her body was almost too much for him to handle. as he pushed a fraction deeper, the sheer, crushing warmth of her walls enveloping his sensitive skin triggered a sensation so acute, so entirely overwhelming, that his control completely fractured.
"ah... oh god..."
the sound slipped past his lips before he could stop it—a low, helpless, and completely broken groan that vibrated deep in his chest. he instantly buried his face in the pillow right next to her ear, his teeth clenching hard as he tried to swallow the rest of the sound, terrified of being too loud but completely powerless against what he was feeling.
it felt entirely incredible. because it was his very first time, he had never known that a sensation could be this pure, this intensely hot and demanding. the way her body gripped him so tightly, molding perfectly to his length with every millimeter he moved, was sending waves of sweet, agonizing friction straight up his spine.
his long fingers dug desperately into the mattress on either side of her head, his knuckles turning white as his hips gave a tiny, involuntary twitch forward, sinking just a little bit further into her breathtaking warmth. he was completely dazed, completely undone by the magnificent reality of how tight and perfect she felt around him.
hearing his broken groan right next to her ear, combined with the deep, slow movement of him filling her completely, it became impossible for her to hold back anymore.
"mhnn..."
a soft, breathless whimper escaped her lips, a sound of pure surrender that she tried to muffle by biting down on her lower lip. the sensation of him sliding against her tight, sensitive walls was completely intoxicating, a wave of intense heat that rippled straight through her core and made her toes curl against the sheets.
hearing her voice, michael’s entire body went rigid for a split second. his eyes snapped open, looking down at her through the dark, completely wide and burning with a new, dark intensity. the sound of her groaning because of him, because of what his body was doing to hers, sent a violent rush of adrenaline straight to his heart.
it was the ultimate confirmation that she was feeling the exact same beautiful, overwhelming pleasure, breaking down the last of his hesitation as they melted completely into the rhythm of their very first time.
the shared vulnerability of their voices completely broke the dam. holding his breath, michael slowly, carefully pulled back just a fraction of an inch before sinking back into her, establishing a very slow, incredibly gentle rhythm of movement.
every single glide of his skin against hers was pure fire. the friction of her tight warmth wrapping around him with each slow push was so intense that they both felt entirely overwhelmed.
"mmh..." michael choked out a muffled groan, his eyes instantly widening in panic as the sound slipped out.
he immediately reacted, burying his face directly into the crook of her neck. his lips pressed hard against her skin, using her shoulder to physically smother the quiet, breathless sounds that kept threatening to tear from his throat. his entire body was trembling, his long muscles locked tight as he tried to absorb the sheer pleasure without making a sound.
she was struggling just as hard. as he slid deeper, a sharp, incredibly sweet wave of sensation hit her, forcing a soft gasp up her throat. she instantly clamped her hand over her own mouth, her fingers pressing tightly against her lips to stifle the whimper that followed.
they lay completely locked together in the dark, the room completely quiet except for the rustle of the sheets and the heavy, synchronized sound of their frantic breathing. every slow, shallow movement was a battle against their own voices, their bodies melting into an intoxicating, silent rhythm as they fought to hide every single breath and groan from the rest of the world.
the overwhelming sensation of him moving inside her, combined with the agonizing effort to stay quiet, became too much to bear. she needed to anchor herself to him, to the reality of who was holding her so gently in the dark.
she wrapped her arms even tighter around his neck, pulling him down until his ear was right against her lips.
"michael..." she breathed out, her voice a tiny, trembling whisper that was thick with emotion and desire.
hearing his own name slip from her lips in that desperate, intimate way hit him harder than any of the physical sensations. michael’s entire body shuddered, a soft, fractured gasp escaping him against her skin. his rhythm broke for a second as he froze, his fingers digging into the mattress as if he were trying to keep from completely losing control right then and there.
it was the sweetest, most vulnerable sound he had ever heard, and it made him press his hips forward just a fraction deeper, completely undone by the way she said his name in the quiet darkness.
he buried his face deeper into her hair, his eyes squeezed shut as her voice echoed in his mind. hearing his name like that made it completely impossible to hold back the overwhelming wave of love and desire crashing over him.
"i'm here... i'm right here," he breathed against her ear, his voice barely a shadow of a whisper, completely wrecked.
he couldn't help himself anymore. the rhythm of his hips became just a fraction faster, a little deeper, as the sheer bliss of her tightness drove him forward. every slow glide inside her was an intoxicating torture. he wanted to move harder, wanted to lose himself completely in her, but the absolute necessity for silence kept his movements agonizingly controlled, making the pleasure twice as intense.
"mmnnh..."
another helpless groan bubbled up from his chest, and michael quickly brought his own hand up, biting down hard on the side of his index finger to physically block the sound from leaving his mouth. his shoulders shook with the effort, his lean muscles straining under the dim moonlight as he poured all his energy into staying quiet.
beneath him, she was reaching her own limit. every time his hips connected with hers, a deep, beautiful warmth rippled through her core. she pulled her hand away from her mouth just long enough to arch her back, her fingers digging deep into the muscles of his bare shoulders, before burying her face directly into his chest to smother her own desperate whimpers.
they were both completely drowning in the sensation, their skin slick with a light sweat, desperately clinging to each other in a frantic, beautiful battle against their own voices.
the friction of their bodies moving together in that tight, agonizingly slow rhythm was pushing them both completely past the brink of what they could handle. every single slide of his skin against hers was pure, undiluted heat.
clinging to him as he sank deep inside her once more, she couldn't contain the truth of what she was feeling anymore. she pressed her face right into the crook of his neck, her breath burning hot against his skin as she whimpered it out.
"michael... oh god, it’s too good... it feels too good," she confessed in a desperate, broken whisper, her fingers tightening like vices on his bare shoulders.
hearing her say those exact words—hearing the sheer, unfiltered pleasure in her trembling voice—sent a violent shockwave straight through michael's entire frame. his hips buckled slightly, sinking into her as far as he could possibly go, and a long, shuddering gasp tore from his lungs.
"i know... i know," he choked out against her hair, his voice completely ruined and dripping with a raw, breathless ecstasy. "it's... it's too much, sweetie... you feel so amazing around me... oh god."
he couldn't even pretend to maintain his composure anymore. the sheer bliss of how tightly she gripped him, combined with the intoxicating knowledge that they were driving each other crazy in the absolute quiet of the night, made him lose his breath entirely. he squeezed his eyes shut, his teeth clenching hard as he buried his face back into the pillow, both of them completely lost in the overwhelming, beautiful madness of how incredible it felt to finally be one.
driven completely past the point of no return by her words, michael’s control dissolved into pure, instinctual need. the slow, shallow movements gave way to a deeper, more urgent rhythm, his hips driving into hers with a desperate, heavy friction that made the mattress creak softly beneath them.
every time he buried himself fully inside her, the intense, velvety heat of her walls wrapping around his length sent a violent shudder through his spine. he was completely breathless, his mind spinning from the sheer, overwhelming ecstasy of it.
"mhnn... please..." she whimpered against his neck, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist to pull him even closer, wanting every single bit of the incredible pressure he was giving her.
the feeling of her thighs locking him in, completely surrendering her body to his, made michael let out a sharp, ragged gasp. he instantly brought his hand up to cover her mouth, his long fingers gently pressing against her lips to catch the beautiful, loud whimpers that were starting to escape her. at the same time, he bit down hard on his own lower lip, tasting the copper tang of blood as he fought to swallow a loud, deep groan of his own.they were moving together in a frantic, sweating, and beautifully messy harmony. the quiet room was filled only with the wet, friction-heavy sounds of their bodies colliding and the agonizingly muffled sounds of their pleasure. michael’s chest was heaving against hers, his heart hammering so violently it felt like it would burst through his ribs, completely consumed by the magnificent, forbidden fire of holding her like this in the dark.
as they fell deeper into the rhythm, the initial shock and nervousness completely melted away, replaced by a pure, intoxicating confidence. their bodies began to adapt to the incredible sensation, formatting a perfect, seamless harmony that made the pleasure amplify a thousand times over.
michael found his stride, his long frame moving with a fluid, mesmerizing intensity. he wasn't hesitant anymore; he knew exactly how she felt around him now, and the sheer familiarity of her tight warmth made him crave more. his hips drove forward with a heavier, more deliberate force, sliding deep into her core and drawing out the sweetest friction they had ever experienced. every single plunge felt deeper, hotter, and infinitely more intense than the last.
she arched her back completely off the mattress, entirely consumed by the waves of ecstasy rolling through her. she didn't just endure the fullness anymore—she chased it, her hips instinctively rising to meet his every downward stroke, locking him in a breathless, tight embrace that drove him absolutely wild.
"oh god... sweetie... sweetie," michael unraveled, his voice a frantic, breathless loop against her ear.
he couldn't keep his eyes closed anymore. he looked down at her, his large, dark eyes completely glazed over with an intense, unadulterated passion. the sweat was trickling down his temples, his muscles fully flexed and straining under the moonlight as he pushed them both higher and higher. the need to stay quiet was still there, but it was being utterly crushed by the sheer magnitude of how good they were making each other feel, turning the silent bedroom into a pressure cooker of raw, beautiful desire.
she couldn't hold it in for another second. as he plunged deep inside her again, a wave of pure, overwhelming ecstasy crashed through her body, threatening to shatter the silence of the room.
desperate to smother the sound, she reached up and grabbed him by the back of his neck, pulling his head down with a fierce, sudden urgency. she slammed her lips against his, locking them together in a deep, frantic kiss, and let out a long, heavy groan right into his mouth.
the sensation of her hot, breathless whimpers vibrating directly against his own tongue sent an absolute electric shock straight to michael’s core.
"mmnnh... !"
michael let out a muffled, choked-out gasp into the kiss, his mind completely fracturing. the raw intimacy of swallowing her groans, of feeling her voice melt directly into his own throat while he was buried deep inside her tight warmth, was too much. his hands gripped her waist like a vice, his knuckles turning white as his hips began to drive into her with a new, completely unchecked intensity. they were literally drinking each other’s voices in, their mouths completely sealed together as they shared every single breath, gasp, and desperate moan. the kiss became a chaotic, beautiful battleground of silent pleasure—each downward stroke of his hips drawing a new, muffled whimper out of her that michael immediately captured and swallowed whole, both of them completely drowning in the suffocating, magnificent heat of the moment.
locked together in that suffocating, deep kiss, the absolute silence of the rest of the house only amplified the sounds they were making in the dark. as the rhythm grew heavier and the friction between them reached a fever pitch, a new, incredibly raw sound began to fill the quiet room.
it was the unmistakable, rhythmic slapping of their skin colliding—the wet, heavy sound of his hips striking hard against hers with every deep, unchecked plunge.
the sound was so intensely intimate, so explicitly loud in the quiet darkness, that it made michael’s mind spin completely out of control. every time he drove forward, the slick friction of their sweat-sheened skin meeting created a steady, intoxicating echo that seemed to vibrate straight through the mattress.
"mmnph... !"
michael groaned heavily into her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers as he tried to swallow his own reaction to the sound. his face was burning, completely undone by how raw and primal everything had become. the sheer physics of their bodies completely melting into one another was no longer a secret kept just by their breathing; the room was alive with the heavy, frantic pace of their collision.
hearing the slick, heavy slapping of his skin against hers only pushed her further over the edge. she arched her hips up higher, meeting every single strike with a desperate force of her own, the sound of their impact growing louder, faster, and completely undeniable as they lost themselves entirely in the magnificent, sweating heat of their rhythm.
the intense, friction-heavy rhythm and the suffocating closeness were building toward something completely uncontrollable. every deep, wet plunge of his hips sent waves of blinding heat straight up his spine, and michael could feel the undeniable, electric tension pooling heavy and tight at the base of his stomach. he knew exactly what was happening. it was a completely new, terrifyingly beautiful sensation that threatened to rip his consciousness away entirely.
beneath him, she was riding the exact same volatile wave. the heavy, relentless friction of him filling her so deeply had coiled a tight, hyper-sensitive knot of pure ecstasy deep in her core. it was stretching tighter and tighter with every single strike of their skin colliding, pushing her to the absolute absolute edge of a cliff she had never jumped from before.
"michael... michael..." she gasped out, tearing her mouth away from his just long enough to breathe, her eyes completely blown out and unfocused in the dark.
"i know... i feel it too, sweetie," he unraveled, his voice dropping into a desperate, frantic pant.
the realization that they were both about to cross that final line together sent a massive surge of adrenaline through his muscles. michael’s pace fractured, becoming faster, harder, and completely desperate as he chased the tightening coil inside him. his hands gripped her hips, pinning her down to meet the sudden, intense acceleration of his movements, both of them completely breathless as the overwhelming pressure built to an absolute breaking point in the quiet darkness.
the shared peak of that first time is an absolute revelation, a sudden blur of uncharted sensations that washes over them both at the precise same second.
for her, the climax arrives as an intense, electric release that starts from the very center of her being and ripples outward. it is a feeling of total surrender and burning warmth, where her internal walls begin to contract in helpless, rhythmic, and incredibly sensitive waves around him. each pulsing spasm is a stunning mixture of relief and pure pleasure that completely steals her breath, making her lose all sense of time and space. she discovers a profound physical release, a beautiful wave of fulfillment that leaves her shivering and completely anchored to him.
for michael, feeling those tight, desperate contractions wrapping around him is the ultimate trigger. the peak of his pleasure is so sharp and concentrated that it feels as though his heart completely skips a beat. a blinding warmth rushes up his spine before exploding into a deep, heavy release, his entire length pulsing as he pours himself fully into her velvety heat. every single muscle in his long back locks into rigid, straining lines as he gives in to a total loss of control, melting into a physical fusion he never could have imagined before tonight.
together, they finally figure out how their bodies truly connect and respond to one another in the dark. they discover the intoxicating domino effect of their intimacy—how her tight, pulsing warmth triggers his own release, and how his deepest push answers hers perfectly. they experience the heavy, drifting afterglow where their racing hearts slowly sync back up, and their slick skin cools against the sheets. even the extreme sensitivity that lingers right after, making the tiniest movement almost too intense to bear, becomes a new language they share as they lie tangled together, catching their breath in the quiet room.
the heavy, frantic sound of their breathing gradually slows down, echoing softly in the absolute quiet of the room. neither of them moves. wrapped tightly in the heavy warmth of the blankets, michael slowly lifts his head from the pillow, his long curls damp with sweat and falling slightly into his eyes as he looks down at her.
their eyes meet in the dim moonlight, completely wide and wide-open with awe.
looking at each other, still entirely breathless, the reality of what they just did finally begins to sink in. a beautiful, overwhelming wave of realization washes over them both. they aren't just a boy and a girl hiding in the dark anymore; they have completely crossed the line into something entirely new, sharing an ultimate, permanent bond that belongs only to them.
michael's large, dark eyes trace every single feature of her face, glowing with a soft, protective adoration that is completely unfiltered. his long fingers tremble slightly as he reaches up, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from her forehead, his touch incredibly tender.
"we... we really did it," he whispers, his voice still completely ruined, a low shadow of a sound that carries the immense weight of their shared secret.
she looks back up at him, her chest still heaving slightly against his, her heart hammering a steady, frantic rhythm right under her ribs. seeing the absolute devotion in his gaze makes a soft, emotional smile break across her lips. the initial shock of the intensity melts away into a deep, comforting warmth. they lie there completely locked together, silently acknowledging the beautiful magnitude of their very first time, utterly consumed by the magnificent reality that they now belong to each other completely.
the reality of the ticking clock starts to hover over the quiet room, but looking up into his soft, adoring eyes, the very thought of getting up and leaving becomes completely unbearable. she doesn't want to break the spell. she doesn't want to pull her skin away from his warmth, step out into the cold air, and pretend the world outside still matters.
she wants to stay. she wants, more than anything, to spend the entire night wrapped up in his arms and fall asleep right next to his heart.
clinging to him a little tighter, she buries her face back into his chest, her fingers gently curling into the fabric of the sheets beneath him.
"i don't want to go," she confesses in a small, fierce whisper against his skin, her voice holding a desperate honesty. "michael... i want to stay here. with you. all night."
hearing her say it—hearing that she wants the exact same thing he’s been secretly praying for—makes michael’s heart swell so painfully it brings a sudden warmth to his eyes. a breathless, incredibly relieved smile breaks across his lips. he doesn't hesitate for even a fraction of a second.
"then stay," he breathes out, his voice cracking slightly with emotion as he instantly tightens his long arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his body. "please don't leave, sweetie... stay right here with me. sleep here."
he pulls the heavy blankets all the way up over their bare shoulders, tucking them in so perfectly that they are completely hidden away from the rest of the world. he kisses the top of her head, his lips lingering against her damp hair, completely overwhelmed by the beautiful, comforting reality that he doesn't have to say goodbye to her tonight.
he smiles into the quiet darkness, the sheer happiness of her decision making him feel completely invincible. he brushes his thumb gently across her cheek, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips before speaking.
"i'll find a way, sweetie," he whispers, his voice thick with a fiercely protective tenderness. "i'll sneak you out before anyone is even awake, or i'll hide you right here in my room. i'll make sure nobody sees you, i promise."
but then he pauses, looking down at her face illuminated by the faint moonlight, and the absolute devotion in his eyes grows even deeper. his fingers tangle gently in her hair, pulling her just a fraction closer against his chest.
"and you know what? even if they do see you... i don't care," he confesses, a soft, defiant laugh escaping his chest. "let them see. i really don't mind anymore. i'm so tired of hiding everything, and i'm definitely not letting you go tonight. all i care about is right here. i just want to stay with you."
the absolute certainty in his voice leaves no room for doubt. he shifts his body slightly, anchoring her against him so perfectly that their heartbeats seem to sync up in the quiet room. he pulls the heavy comforter tightly around them both, sealing them away in their own little world, completely indifferent to whatever consequences tomorrow might bring as long as he gets to wake up with her in his arms.
she feels the steady, comforting beat of his heart beneath her cheek, his words hanging in the warm air of the bedroom like a promise. hearing him say that he doesn't care about the risk, that he just wants to protect her and keep her close, makes a sudden rush of pure emotion tighten in her throat.
she looks up at him, her eyes shining in the dark as she drinks in the sight of his face, so open and completely vulnerable just for her.
"i love you," she breathes out, the three words escaping her lips in a tiny, fierce whisper that shatters whatever quiet distance was left between them.
michael freezes for a fraction of a second, his entire frame going completely still against hers as the words hit him. his breath hitches softly in his chest, his large eyes widening slightly as if he can't quite believe the sheer beauty of what he just heard.
then, a soft, incredibly broken sigh escapes him, and his face softens into an expression of pure, unadulterated devotion.
"oh god... i love you too, sweetie," he unraveled, his voice cracking with the heavy weight of how much he means it. "i love you so much."
he leans down instantly, burying his face in the crook of her neck and holding her so tightly it feels like he wants to melt their bodies together. his hands cup the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he presses desperate, warm kisses all over her jaw and her shoulder, completely undone by the perfect, beautiful certainty of her love.
I have a fanfic request tho. So imagine reader lets Michael “practice” on how to go down on a girl and one thing leads to another…
Idk how to write it out but I basically just want a smut 😭😭 anyways thank you!!
t/w: smut, 18+ mdni, oral (f! receiving), fingering, p in v, creampie, squirting, inexperienced michael (between off the wall/thriller era) i fear i always have to add plot to the p!rn sorry
statement on ai
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You kept catching him looking at you.
Michael’s eyes would flick away quickly, acting like nothing was amiss. Which, technically, nothing was. The two of you were sitting on the floor leaning against his bed while watching a movie, a typical Sunday night in the Jackson household when things got calm for a rare moment.
You had thought he sounded a little off when he had called you to come over, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what.
Nervous didn’t really feel like the right word. Perhaps because you couldn’t think of a single reason why he would be. That very small and delusional voice in the back of your head whispered he was going to confess his feelings for you— but that would be insane.
The two of you had been friends for a while now after getting introduced to each other by a few mutual people and you had clicked.
It was easy, being around him. He probably had the same sentiments considering he still called you to hang out whenever he got a moment of down time.
When you caught him looking at you again, you decided to bite the bullet and nudge his knee with yours.
“You okay?”
“What? Yeah, fine.” He rushed. A little too quickly, in your opinion.
Your eyes narrowed. “Michael.”
His eyes slated to look at you for a moment, attempting to keep up the facade, but something in your expression made him cave.
With a sigh, he lowered the volume on the movie and turned toward you, suddenly beat red in the face and your mind was running a million miles an hour.
“I have a question,” he slowly started. Wringing his hands in his lap and suddenly not looking at you at all even though earlier he couldn’t seem to help himself.
Your eyes flicked over him, trying to get a read on what could possibly be going on but you came up blank. “Okay.”
“I…” Michael blew some air out of his mouth and suddenly laughed while looking at the ceiling. “God, this is crazy. Okay, so I, I uh… I need help with something.”
Your brows furrowed. “Okay?”
“It’s complicated and probably crossing some sort of line… and it’s also completely okay if you say no. I just want you to know first that this is in no way me trying to take advantage or trying to ruin anything. And I want you to know that I’m asking because I trust you and feel safe with you and I feel like you also feel the same way. I mean, I hope you do.” You could tell he just wanted to spit it out but looked as though he would vomit if he tried to before he was ready.
Leaning over to grab his hands, half in comfort and half to get him to stop twisting his fingers around, you gave his hands a supportive squeeze. “I do. And whatever you need help with, just know there is no judgement.”
He raised a brow at you, unsure. “None?”
“None whatsoever.”
Michael didn’t seem convinced so you held up your hand, “pinky promise.”
That got him to laugh a little bit, just a small amount of tension easing out of his shoulders as he locked pinkies with you to seal the deal.
He then let out a slow breath, eyes dancing back up to the ceiling as if in a silent prayer before he looked back at you. When his teeth sunk into his bottom lip for a moment you couldn’t help but look.
“I need to know how to go down a girl.”
You blinked.
“Pardon?”
He then covered his face with his hands, clearly embarrassed. “I knew I shouldn't have—“
“No, no, it’s just I wasn’t… I don’t know what I was expecting.” You pulled his hands from his face, your own cheeks their own deep shade of red. “It’s just, I mean— why me? What do you need to know? Do you want a bullet point list or a diagram—“
“I tried all that.”
“On a girl?” It slipped out before you thought better of it. Your envious curiosity being your downfall. You had absolutely no desire to hear about other girls he might’ve been with.
“No, the lists and diagrams, they just didn’t seem informative enough.” He said it slowly and wasn’t looking at you again.
It took an embarrassingly long moment for you to realize to what scale he was asking you to help him.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
You hummed, leaning back on your palms as your mind and heart tried to get each other to calm down. “I see.”
Seconds ticked by. All you could hear was your heartbeat and Michael started going a little blurry at the edges of your vision as flashes of dreams you’ve had flicked through your mind.
Dreams one definitely should not have about their friend.
“So?”
You crossed your legs, wishing for those things in your head to go away but then panic started bubbling up in your chest. “I mean… yes? Sure, but do you mean now?”
“No no no, there’s not really a timeline. Whenever you’re ready and comfortable. Are you positive this is okay?”
More than okay, actually. “Of course, just… helping a friend out.”
He laughed as he looked down, “right.”
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Well, fuck.
As soon as he shut the car door for you and it disappeared down the driveway, he felt like he could finally breathe again.
He felt like he had been on the brink of passing out the last two hours.
In all honesty, he was surprised he had even gotten the words out.
The idea had popped into his head a while ago, something he was ashamed but also intrigued by. He just heard things, stuff around him being discussed that piqued his interest. And then someone would ask him about his experience and he’d draw up a blank.
Even though he’s only in his twenties and lived a life worth a thousand lifetimes— he still fell short on some experiences. Mostly interpersonal or intimate.
There was also that little chirp in his head that said gaining more experience in that area would improve his song writing.
Always a working man, apparently.
And like Michael said, he had tried other avenues. Buying sex education books, published articles, magazines… but it was all too structured. Inorganic. Academic and cold.
He wanted more of a human touch, but given who he was it couldn’t just be anyone. And late one night, staring up at the ceiling as moonlight danced across his room, he thought of you.
He immediately felt ashamed about it. You were his friend, he shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. Although yes, he has admittedly found you attractive, he said he’d never go there.
But once his mind found a little footing on an idea, he couldn’t drop it.
Then the dreams started and that became a whole other hell.
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Six days had passed.
Six days of feeling like you weren’t able to breathe.
You didn’t want to admit the amount of money you dropped on getting ready for this.
For Michael Jackson to eat you out.
God, you were going to faint.
You’d been waxed, showered, body oils, your nails done, a new pair of lace panties, the whole package really. Part of you felt like it was all over kill but it was Michael fucking Jackson.
You wanted it, you, to be perfect.
And although he was the biggest star in the world, you didn’t want him to feel intimidated. Intimacy was a new field entirely and he seemed anxious enough asking you.
So you stuck with an outfit that was simple but still a little spiced up. A cute skirt and a nice top that made the girls look nice. Your hair was done up in a messy sort of up do— he had complimented it when it was like this a few weeks ago.
And to top it all off a pair of heels.
He had called you the day before, telling you to knock on the door of the studio when you got there, not wanting his family to come snooping.
So you stilled your breath, heels clicking on the ground as you neared the door.
“I can do this.”
And you knocked.
Mere heartbeats passed before you heard the lock click and the door opened.
You smiled, trying not to come off as shy as you felt when your eyes met his.
“Hi, Michael.”
He seemed slightly taken off guard, clearing his throat after a moment. “Hey.”
You felt like you were in high school all over again.
“So, where are we doing this?” You cringed at your wording.
“Right.” He was blushing again as he stepped outside and closed the door behind him. “Follow me.”
Michael sneaking you through his house provided enough of an entertaining distraction to let you relax a bit. You were just helping him out. There were no stakes. No strings. Even if you wanted there to be.
The door to his room shut softly behind him and you watched in amusement as he slowly and quietly turned the lock.
“Hopefully it’s late enough so no one will bother us.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine, maybe just put on some music.”
“Right, good idea.”
He looked adorable as his eyes briefly flicked to yours before looking away as he began to shuffle though his records.
“You look beautiful, by the way.”
You were going to melt through the floor. “Thank you.”
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He watched you, quite intently, as you sat on the edge of his bed. Back straight and hands placed neatly in your lap.
You looked like an angel.
Your eyes were on his before flicking down briefly, messing with a bracelet you had on. “So, what do you already know? Just so I have an idea.”
He felt heat pool into his cheeks, briefly glancing at the ceiling before clearing his throat. He felt more nervous now than he did performing in front of thousands of people.
“Basics, I suppose. With oral sex for women, I’m mainly supposed to focus on the… the uh, y’know.” God, he felt aware of all of his bones. If he couldn’t even say it, how was he supposed to do it. To you.
You smiled at him, though not in any teasing way to make him retreat. “It’s funny, with stuff like this. Doing it is usually less intimidating than talking about it.”
Michael nodded, rubbing at the nape of his neck as he rolled a question around in his mind. One he couldn’t help but be curious about while also dreading to hear your answer.
But he couldn’t help it.
“Have you done this before?”
You blinked at him.
“You don’t have to answer that, I was just curious—“
“A few times. I mean, I wasn’t showing someone how to do it, like now. And they were alright, it helped me find out what I like, which is what I’ll tell you.”
Michael nodded. A little annoyed that other people had had the privilege but he decided not to dwell on the fact for now or come to terms for what that meant for him.
Your nails tapped a rhythm into your leg. “So, whenever you’re ready—“
“Can we play a game first? Just to, y’know, calm the nerves?”
Twenty minutes later the two of you were tangled up on a Twister mat. Laughing as one had to stretch uncomfortably and almost fall over.
The momentary distraction did help ease his nerves but it definitely made something else more apparent.
Your skirt was incredibly short.
You barely had to bend over for him to start seeing the subtle curve of your ass cheek meet your thigh. That sight alone was inticing… and then he saw the lace of your underwear.
Fuck me, was a statement that had been running through his mind. He tried not to look, really he did. But the thin lace was right there and not leaving much to the imagination, and then he’d remember what exactly you were here for.
Michael knew his composure was steadily unraveling and when you bent over again for your turn he cleared his throat.
“I think I’m ready.”
You stood up, brows raised slightly in surprise at his sudden statement, rouge bleeding into your cheeks.
“Okay, come here.”
And then your fingers laced with his as you walked back to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it and he was about to join you but you stopped him with your fingers hooked into his belt loops.
He looked down at you, that sight alone— that low voice in the back of his head wondering how lovely you’d look with his cock in your mouth right now…
What had gotten into him?
“Kneel.”
One word. That’s all it took, and he did as told.
Lowering to his knees in front of you, eyes on yours because he suddenly discovered he couldn’t— didn’t want to look anywhere else.
You held his gaze and you took his hands, bringing them to your knees. He got the hint, gently spreading them wider so he could slot between them easily.
Then you were laying down, his own eyes flicking lower and he could see the lace.
Really, your skirt was a pathetic excuse for a piece of sufficient clothing. Not that he minded given the circumstances.
Then his hands were dancing up, fingers dragging along your thighs and watching as goosebumps followed in the wake of his touch.
He was pushing your skirt up around your waist and when he finally got to see your underwear entirely he felt his heart skip a beat.
The bow at the top was adorable.
And you were right there… legs spread and only a thin piece of cloth hiding you away.
“Should I—“ he cleared his throat, given the words came out more hoarse than he intended. “Should I take these off?” His fingers looped on the string but you grabbed his wrist.
“Not yet.” Then you dragged his hand over, right above you and he could feel the heat rolling off you in waves. “The build up is just as important.”
He nodded, taking mental notes while he was still able to focus.
“Like you said, main point to focus on is here.”
His index and middle finger gently pressed down and he saw the muscles in your thighs twitch.
Noted.
Your breath came out a little heavier. “And if you slide down, just there, that’s the entrance. You can tease that through the lace as well.”
His fingers slid down to where you said, feeling the fabric cave in a little bit but that’s not what made him suck in a breath.
You were wet.
The lace already damp with your arousal, for him, and Michael felt the room start to tip slightly. His self restraint starting to lose its balance.
“You can choose to do it with your hands, but given what you— oh.”
He wasn’t thinking straight, or at all, lowering himself with little hesitation and his mouth latched onto your clit through your underwear.
A sound started to slip past your lips but you bit it back when he applied a rolling pressure with his tongue.
He wanted to hear it again.
His ears were ringing but he followed your instructions. Each one coming out in a more labored breath. His hands gripping onto the soft flesh of your thighs as he worked, focused, intent on hearing the way you tried to bite back whimpers.
And then he slid down, tongue teasing the entrance of your pussy as his nose brushed against your clit and you moaned.
It felt like he was hearing the trumpets of heaven and you tasted clean. Erotic. He didn’t know how else to describe it, but you were so fucking wet. Both from your own arousal and his saliva, that the lace was sticking to you like a second skin and he could almost see you. Almost.
And finally finally you told him to move your underwear to the side and when his eyes finally landed on your pussy he groaned before diving back in. Tongue tracing from your clit to your to your cunt and you tasted better than anything he had ever imagined.
Your back arched off the bed, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to hold back a shout.
“I wanna hear you,” he muttered, feeling hazy as his tongue flattened over your clit and his cock was so hard that it hurt.
You cried out, trying to muffle the sound with your hand and he almost missed the way you said his name.
He wanted to hear his name like that from your mouth for the rest of his life.
As if he were starving, his fingers dug into your thighs as he dragged his tongue down and started to fuck you with his tongue and lips and teeth. Being driven even further towards the brink of insanity every time you said more or right there.
Your hands twined into his hair, hips rolling up to meet his mouth and he was determined to make you come. To do it just right.
The thought of you making a mess all over his mouth made his cock twitch in his pants and he was half worried he’d finish right then and there like he was a teenager.
His eyes then flicked up, eyes catching yours and then you flat out moaned his name, the sound coming from your soul it seemed and he felt something in him snap.
Michael didn’t even realize what he was doing, two fingers dragging over your pussy before they slid inside, curving them to your body and you were so soft and fucking warm.
Then his fingers pressed against something textured and you would’ve flown off the bed if he hadn’t secured an arm over your hips.
The sounds in the room dancing just below the volume of the music were lewd. Sinful. Your body being contorted in pleasure as you grinded against his face.
All he could sense was you.
Then your muscles tensed, your head rolling back and God the way his name dripped off your tongue.
“Michael, I’m— I’m…”
And then you came, your pussy tightening in a pulse around his fingers and he could feel your heartbeat on his tongue.
He was lost. Completely.
Not being able to stop himself even as your legs tightened around his head. Not even as you cried it’s too much.
He wanted more like a man who had stumbled across paradise after wandering in the desert for too long.
Just too fucking thirsty.
“Michael.”
Then his lips and chin were suddenly very, very wet.
He blinked as he pulled back, meeting your wide eyes. Watching as your gaze flicked down the wetness covering the lower half of his face and you sucked in a breath.
His mind was short circuiting.
He’d read about when a woman does that, though not super often and Michael hadn’t even let it occur to mind that he could make someone do that.
Make you do that.
“Oh my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t even know I could—“
He felt like his common sense had taken a seat in the back of his mind because next thing he knew he was pushing you back onto the bed, crawling over you and lips crashing into yours. Hips rolling with a mind of their own and that first sensation of warmth and pressure against his cock even through his slacks made him shiver.
It was messy and wonderful. Teeth hitting against each other and tongues sliding in their own dance.
Your hands fumbled with his zipper and then—
“Fuck,” Michael’s face fell into the crook of your neck when he felt your hand wrap around him.
Your hand dragged up along the shaft, thumb swiping against his tip that had been leaking pre-come for who knew how long and he shuddered against you, hips seeking out more as he thrusted into your hand.
He was in such a lust induced haze he felt like the world wasn’t even real anymore. Just you and him and the edge heaven at the tips of his fingers.
It wasn’t enough. Not nearly.
Michael was desperate. His hips rolling in search of more and he accidentally slid the tip of his cock right up along your pussy. Gathering wetness and you were just so fucking warm— he wasn’t thinking. Honestly, he wasn’t.
His mouth met yours again and then his hips lowered, cock sliding in instead of up and he felt whatever willpower he had break.
You felt so fucking good and then you moaned and before the next breath he was in all the way to tne hilt.
His heavy lidded eyes met your own and when he slowly dragged out, watching in fascination as your pupils expanded into pools of ink with your mouth dropped open… who was he to put a stop to this?
So he thrusted back in. Back out. Slow and deliberate and so fucking wonderful.
“You feel like heaven,” his words came out broken, his own moan fracturing his speech.
His name left your lips in a cry, your legs wrapped around his hips and deeper he went. He wanted to go deeper in ways that weren’t physically possible and his eyes flicked down. Seeing the way your pussy took him so well and he didn’t even feel human right now.
Michael’s thrust became harder and his pace quickened into something more erratic and wild, mouth on yours, sloppy and wet and when he felt you tighten around him as you came again he tipped right over the edge with you.
Seeing stars behind his eyes as he came and he couldn’t stop. Something in his soul begging him to keep going. Making sure he got all of it inside of you, not a drop wasted because it really would’ve been such a fucking waste.
After what felt like a daydream finally concluding, Michael collapsed on top of you. Breathing heavy and his heartbeat so loud he felt like he was underwater.
Your arms were still wrapped around him as he settled between your thighs and against your chest, trying to catch your breath.
Your bodies were covered in sweat that made the air a bit cool against the skin and when he shivered, both from the temperature and his body coming down from the shock of pleasure, did it dawn on Michael of what exactly he just did.
God forgive me.
Slowly, he raised himself up on his arms, not being able to help himself as he watched his cock pull out, both of your releases covering him and seeping out of you. It was probably the hottest thing he’d ever seen but it wasn’t enough to overshadow the reality of what he’d just done.
“I didn’t mean to—“
“Michael, that was…” you blinked up at the ceiling. Looking fucked out and like an angel in his bed sheets. “Wow.”
He blushed, despite what he just did to you. Michael didn’t regret it, that he was sure of. In fact, he knew he wanted to do it again.
“I think I still need some more practice.” He muttered, leaning down to catch your lips with his and you hummed.
“Agreed. Same time next Sunday?”
He shook his head as he pulled back, teeth catching onto your bottom lip. “I was thinking tomorrow.”
If a couple of months ago someone had asked you if you wanted to start dating again, you wouldn’t have had a great answer at all. You would have shrugged and given vague noncommittal answers. Your ex was a bum and the after effects of that… situation left you close to swearing off men entirely.
You never thought you’d be waking up all but swimming in Michael Jackson's sheets at 10am on a Tuesday, wearing nothing but a slutty little nightie and some matching panties.
“Good morning, baby” Michael’s soft voice was the first thing you heard when you stirred, and his big brown eyes were the first thing you saw. The bed was unbelievably comfortable and your stomach growled when the scent of something cooking wafted into the room.
“Hi Mikey… what’s the time?” you said, yawning, and he smiled softly as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face.
“Ten-ish. I’ve been up for a little while. I made breakfast! But I had to settle back in watch you wake up,”
A strange feeling washed over you as you realised the same thought would’ve made you nauseous if it was your ex instead of Michael.
“You’re whipped,” you teased, and he let out a breathy giggle, not once looking away from you, his gaze dragging over your features. He traced your eyebrows and nose with his fingertip, laying on his side with his eyes half lidded and full of affection. You struggled to maintain your poker face and you broke out into a goofy grin, wrapping your arms round him and burying your face in his neck. For a second you thought he might protest (he was a busy man after all) but after a moment of you staring into his eyes, he cracked and moved in closer, settling you in the crook of his neck.
“Busy today?” you grumbled against his skin and he laughed in response
“Uh, I’m recording later today.”
“And til then?”
“Until then, baby, I am all yours.”
Your jaw clenched as faint arousal settled in your gut, the thought of having him all to yourself almost making you salivate.
You lay with him in comfortable silence for a few minutes. He played with your hair and you raked your nails along the nape of his neck, reveling in the shudders and goosebumps it triggered. He was so insecure at times and the thought of him looking in the mirror and not liking the man looking back was enough to make you sick. Sure, you were unhealthily obsessed with his humour, his voice, and his dedication, but his appearance could make you melt, and judging from some of the fanmail he received, it wasn’t just you that felt that way.
Your lips pressed together as you thought about the snippets of his childhood he told you about: his father constantly diminishing his looks and the neighbourhood kids making fun of him for as long as he could remember. You felt so privileged to be someone he could share these intimate details with, but it didn’t even stop in success, as the tabloids never rested—
“Um… baby?”
Your fingers had stopped their caressing.
“You’re.. You know.. All stuck in your head again. Talk to me. Is it that ex of yours, hmm?”
“Uh- No. just feel so blessed to be with you” you admitted with a shy smile, omitting the rest of your internal monologue lest you trigger any unwanted memories. Michael giggled, pulling you impossibly close to him.
“I’m the lucky one here sweetheart. I love being around you. It’s like magic, I think.”
You kissed his cheek and he buried his face in your shoulder as he blushed. You never tired of how cute he looked when he was flustered. He began peppering featherlight kisses across your collarbone, and you were no stranger to the sudden heat that bloomed in your chest.
“Let me show you,” he suggested.
“Show me?” you quirked an eyebrow, playing oblivious..
“I wanna– show you– how lucky I am,” he whispered, punctuating each word with firmer and wetter kisses to your collarbone.
Your giggle was cut off by the sight of him crawling over you, looking down at you with devotion. It was like the breath was knocked out of your lungs.
“Is that a yes?” he leaned back a little to scan your face. He could see the answer in your eyes, only half aware of the pure need etched into his own expression, but he wanted to make you say it.
“Yes, Michael.”
He lazily dragged up your tiny nightie, bunching it up above your breasts as he admired the sight before him. His fingers immediately found your nipples, brushing over them lightly with an audible breath as they hardened beneath his touch before pinching and rolling them just the way you liked.
He lay all his weight on you and wrapped his arms around you, his mouth never leaving your skin for more than a split second. His dick began to strain against his boxers, leaking precum against the fabric. He worshipped your chest as he began to grind his hips against yours, your needy whines eliciting his own matching sounds. His teeth found your earlobe, and the heat of his breath combined with his whimpering in your ear was enough to begin building you up.
“Beautiful.” He traced the small marks and imperfections along your abdomen, caressing your skin with such gentleness it was as if he was trying not to break you, but really he was just marvelling at your beauty. Memories of your ex flipping you over onto your stomach every time to avoid looking at you flashed through your mind but you were determined not to kill the moment.
“Kiss me,” you almost begged. You didn’t have time to be mortified over the surprising amount of lust in your voice; his mouth stole yours as he plunged a hand into your hair behind your head. Kissing you gently, he guided your panties off, groaning as his fingers brushed the damp gusset.
He played your body like a violin. Your head fell back into the plush pillows as his thumb found your clit, rubbing it in circles as he ground his hips into your crotch, slowly slipping off his shorts. You moaned unabashedly as he made out with your tits, kissing and licking and sucking with furrowed brows and the shine of sweat across his forehead. He knew the places that made you gasp, pressing your clit in time with the blunt scrape of his teeth against your nipple.
Releasing with a pop, he looked down at the mess beneath him, an unfairly cute smile gracing his face.
“You look dirty, sweetheart. Are you alright?”
“Michael…”
“I’m not finished. You really want me to stop?” he whined.
You never get used to the way he could send electricity dancing across her skin like fireworks, purely with his tone of voice. He tugged your nipple between his lips, tongue rolling it as he gave in and pushed his boxers down. You didn’t have time to marvel at the size of him, the sticky tip already sliding against your slit, collecting the juices leaking from you.
His eyes rolled back as he maneuvered his dick around you, slapping it on your clit harshly, giggling when you gasped. The minute he saw your clit swollen and throbbing directly against him, he covered his face and pushed it in slightly with a loud groan. You lifted your hips and he pressed his palm against your belly, pushing down as the rest of his dick finally breached you.
The stretch was sinful, and you twitched and shivered uncontrollably as he began to push in and out slowly. You stared up at him through your lashes, clenching around him, causing him to whine.
“So good,” He lowered his head to your neck again. “So pretty. So magical.” he chanted.
“Michael. Please.”
“Anything for you baby. I love you. I’ve never met a girl just like you,” he whispered. “I am so lucky.”
He slammed as deeply as he physically could into you, staying still when he was in to the hilt. He began to grind against you, not pulling out, simply rutting against you, his dick pressing against that spot inside of you that made you see stars.
“My pretty girl,” he whispered again. “Incredible.”
“Fuck,” was all you could manage, rendered dumb with pleasure as he bit your bottom lip, breathing into your mouth as your nails scraped down his back and he pounded you into the silk.
Your orgasm hit you out of nowhere. You froze up against him, clenching around him tight, and his head fell back as he pulled out until only the head remained, before sliding in all the way and letting his orgasm wash over him too, the contractions from your high milking the sticky cum out of him.
Both you and your brain were dead quiet. The room was only filled with the sounds of you and Michael’s heavy breathing as you came down from your highs together.
“Breathtaking. A gift from above.” He kissed your neck as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.
He pulled away with a giggle, pointing towards the kitchen. You couldn’t help but laugh too when you realised you’d almost forgotten about breakfast.
“What did you make?” you asked as he slid out of you and wiped you down.
“I’m not a fan of breakfast, but I know you like them so I made fluffy pancakes. I made sure to get that syrup you like.”
“Seriously?” You couldn’t help but cover your face as you smiled, unreasonably attracted to the idea of Michael in the kitchen making breakfast for you, probably humming and sipping juice as he cooked.
“What? I like sharing things with you, you know.”
“Mmhmm,” you kissed his cheek to hide the flustered expression on your face. You buried your face in his chest again and breathed in deeply.
“Incredible,” he whispered. again as he twisted a lock of your hair around his finger.
synopsis: despite being jermaine’s girlfriend, michael’s always had a huge crush on you. the infatuation only growing when you show up at his house in a skimpy bikini — giving him the most agonisingly hard cock he’s ever had. so, of course as the best big sister-in-law ever, you have to help him out!
warning; sexual themes, smut, 18+, sub!mike, cheating, age gap (not that much), soft dom!reader
Michael was sweating.
Maybe it was because of the blistering Californian sun.
Or maybe it was because of you.
Regardless, the way the sweat poured off his skin, trickling down the back of his neck, had him shivering despite the scorching sun that beat down on him.
You were tormentingly forbidden — something to, guiltily, stare at but never touch. Never have. Something that would bug Michael every chance he’d catch your eyes across the room, or when he’d let his gaze linger too long on your perfect frame, or when you brushed past him with that sickly sweet smile you always wore with a soft ‘’Scuse me, honey’. Something he’d be kept up at night pondering on.
Forbidden as you belonged to someone else.
That someone else being his brother.
Which made his private infatuation with you a million times worse — the shame lingering deep in his chest whenever he feels his heart jump whenever you grin at him.
But the guilt that often crept up his spine in an obvious crawl was eerily absent today — instead a familiar yet unaccustomed feeling loitered deep inside him. Michael couldn’t quite put his finger on it — he was certain he’d felt like this before when he looked at you, but it was clear he’d never acted on the feeling before.
It was something about the way that you laid oh so deliciously on the sun-lounger — legs crossed at the ankle, displaying your pedicured, white toenails glistening in the sun, skin a sun-kissed glow from the sunscreen you’d lathered on yourself, hair in a messy ponytail, eyes shielded in Armani sunglasses and a Pina Colada in hand. You were tanning — and it had Michael spiralling.
But, the best part? Your striking, baby-pink, string bikini.
The one that he knows his sister bought you for your birthday a mere few weeks ago, now deciding to bring it out for its first wear. Michael cursed the day you accepted that gift as he was now fighting the urge to let his cock twitch desperately in his swimming shorts at the sight of your exposed body — gawking at the way the condensation from the Pina Colada glass dripped down your manicured fingers, before dropping and sliding down the curve of your breast.
He shuffled uncomfortably on the sun-lounger next to you — trying his best to shift his shorts to display his achingly hard cock in a less obvious way. His eyes though, locked onto your glistening frame, your relaxed stance had him admiring the way you got comfortable — your fingers curled calmly by your sides, sometimes reaching up to twirl the string of your bikini bottoms between your manicured digits, or the way you sighed out loud every now and again, tongue darting out to wet your dry lips. Michael gawked at each movement — wondering whether you sighed that gracefully when you were tired, or whether it was a noise of content? Or was that the kind of noise you’d make as his fingers would slide over your skin, or whether it reached a higher octave when he’d slide his fingers insid—
“Michael, sweetie?”
Your sweet voice made him jump — his startled eyes now connecting with your sun-glasses clad ones, a playful smile on your face, “Would you be an angel and put some sunscreen on my back, honey?”
Michael took a stunned few seconds before he answered, lips parted in shock ever so slightly, “I—uh, sure. D-Do you not want me to grab Jermaine?”
He hated the way his chest tightened in envy at the mention of your boyfriend.
You sat up slowly, eyes never leaving his slim frame — his curls slightly frizzing up in the heat, smile deepening at the adorably innocent expression plastered on his face, “He ain’t out here, is he?”
Michael swallowed thickly, his eyes flicking to his brother, Jermaine, in the large pool that covered the backyard of Hayvenhurst, watching as he swam after his other brother, Marlon, before averting his gaze back to you, “‘Suppose not.”
“Then come over, baby, don’t want me to start burnin’, do ya?”
Michael sat up too, shuffling in a way that avoided his still hard cock to be concealed by his shorts, not leaving anytime soon after the casual nickname fell past your plump lips, before perching on the edge of his lounger.
“Atta boy.”
Michael sighed shakily, picking up the sunscreen lotion that laid beside your chair, flicking the cap open gently before squeezing a generous amount onto his clammy palms. You had already situated your bare back to face him, humming quietly to a song Michael recognised as one of his own, awaiting his touch.
You had no idea what you did to him — that’s what killed him most. You, humming away subconsciously to one of his songs, waiting patiently, half-naked, for him to rub lotion into your skin. Jesus.
Michael reached forward, a gentle, yet shaken, hand colliding softly with the leanness of your shoulders — his large hands beginning to lather the protective lotion into your skin. He tentatively avoided your bikini, to avoid staining the material in the grease of the lotion, but also knowing if he had to touch the very clothing that had him so antsy with desperation that it would definitely send him into tachycardia beyond rescue.
As he moved smoothly down your back, the cream now slicking your supple skin, he couldn’t help but admire the painfully obvious ink that clad your spine. He cleared his throat behind you — eyes never leaving the trail of flowers that bloomed in black, slightly faded, ink on your skin.
The artistic sentiment of your dainty tattoo had him pondering — mind trailing over to how different you were to him. You were older, closer in age to Jermaine and La Toya than you were him, oozed confidence like you were the most important person in the room, wore expensive, out-going, feminine outfits that always caught his eye whenever you’d visit the family home, had wit quicker than he’d ever seen and a flirtatious attitude that had him blushing every time you’d compliment him subtly.
You were polar opposites — he was shy, quiet, gentle and, some would say, insecure, despite his superstar persona. On the surface, he pretended he didn’t know why he was so infatuated with you — but, deep down he knew it was because you were something he couldn’t have, but so desperately wanted.
“Gone real quiet back there, Mr, you doin’ okay?”
Your voice dragged him out of his daydream once again, a blush creeping up onto his cheeks, “Sorry. Was just looking at your..thing.”
“My thing?” You laughed softly, “Funny way to describe my tattoo, honey.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Michael chuckled behind you, hands still moving gently against you, “Your tattoo, I mean. It’s very..different.”
“Good different I should hope. I had that done a few years ago.” You revealed, “Had some good reviews from it.”
Temptation crept up Michael’s neck at your alluding comment, the devil on his shoulder screaming at him to ask what you meant by such a sentence. He gave in. “What do you mean?”
You smirked, turning around to face him, “I’ll let you figure that out, sweetie. If not, ask your brother.”
Michael couldn’t hide the shy smile that curved up onto his lips, skin now flushed bright red at your sexual insinuation, “So cute.” You teased, reaching a hand around to pinch Michael’s rosy cheeks, giggling as his timidity.
Your casualness in regard to discussing such promiscuous acts and touching him so sweetly had his boyish crush on you flourishing — his hands trembling as they moved down to your lower back, now scarily close to your plump behind.
“Did it not hurt?” Michael questioned sincerely.
“Hm? Oh, no, not at all.” You spoke, “I like the pain.”
Oh, now that made him twitch — his bottom lip coming between his bottom teeth to steady himself at the way his cock throbbed achingly beneath his shorts, mind running away with itself at the thought of you enjoying pain.
“Hey, you two!” La Toya’s high-pitched voice filled both your ears, “Come in! We wanna play Chicken!”
You gasped, “Ooh, I love that game!” You stood quickly, missing the way your backside came in Michael’s full frontal vision, his eyes flashing open in shock, before turning around to face him, “Thanks, baby.” You whispered, squeezing his chin between your index finger and thumb, before strutting off towards the pool.
Michael couldn’t help himself but stare at the way your bikini bottoms had ridden up around your round ass, now curved between each cheek, displaying your plumpness to him perfectly.
“Lord.” He whispered to himself, rubbing his slicked up hands across his thighs, ridding himself of the lotion, before rising to his feet himself.
You slid into the pool gracefully — sighing as the cold temperature cooled your warm body, swimming towards the rest of group who formed a circle, awaiting the two of you. Michael climbed in after you, eyes locked on the way your tits bounced as you jumped across the length of the pool, barely being held down by the flimsy material of your bikini.
Michael watched from the edge of the pool as you let La Toya climb onto your shoulders, heart thumping as you laughed loudly while you attempted to keep her steady on top of you, before hopping towards Marlon who held Jermaine on his shoulders.
“You’re going down, baby.” Jermaine teased, eyeing his girl from his brother’s shoulders.
“Yeah, right, weakling. I know Toya’s gonna shove your sorry ass into that water, right, Toya?” You sassed back, missing the way Michael clenched his jaw at the causal flirtatious tone of both of your voices.
Michael watched from afar as you and his siblings played multiple rounds of Chicken — not caring to join in himself, just enjoying admiring you from across the pool, pretending as if his brother wasn’t there when he swam close to you or leant down to press a kiss to your cheek inbetween games.
“Hey, Mike! Your turn!”
Michael peered over at the group through his Aviators, who were all now staring at his relaxed frame.
“N-No, I’m good.”
“C’mon, Mikey, I’ll get on your shoulders and play Toya, how about that?”
The nickname you gave him hit him straight in the chest — heart now pounding in his throat. It’s almost like you knew, from the way you said it, that it had an effect on him.
“Okay.” Michael mumbled in defeat, moving through the water to join you.
“That’s my boy.”
Michael swallowed a groan that threatened to leave his lips — you were literally killing him with every word you spoke, his cock now painfully hard in his shorts.
Once he got to you, you slithered behind him, hopping from the edge of the pool and onto his shoulders, giggling as you settled against him. Michael swallowed as your thighs enclosed around his head, his shaking hands coming up to rest on your bare thighs — his head was reeling. He couldn’t help but let his mind fill him with the imagery that your clothed cunt was pressed up against the back of his neck — your clit practically rubbing against him as you got comfortable.
“Tighter, Michael. Don’t want me to fall now, do you?” You commanded, grabbing his hands and pressing them further into your skin, smiling as he tightened his grip, “That’s more like it, babe.”
God, he had to be a pervert the way his dick was jumping around in his briefs at every comment you made. You were turning him into a lustful man — something he strived to not be. But, he couldn’t help himself when you acted like that.
And you didn’t make it easy for him — not when you laced your manicured fingers through his ringlet curls, twirling them around one of your digits as you awaited for the game to begin. Michael let out a shaky breath he didn’t realise he was holding as Marlon called out ‘Aaand go!’
You squealed above him, your hands leaving the comfort of his hair to collide with La Toya’s — thrashing one another back and forth, giggling as you play-fought. Michael’s hands remained planted tightly on your wet thighs, doing exactly as you told him, trying to ignore the way the lower half of your body pressed further into the back of his head.
With a scream and a splash — you were pushed backwards, falling into the water, sliding off of Michael’s shoulders. Michael, ignoring La Toya’s squeal in delight at winning the childlike game, turned to face your submerged frame. Worry flashed in his heart at the possibility you may have hurt yourself falling so abruptly into the water — eyes flickering all over you underwater. His worry soon depleted at the sight of your elegant frame sliding out of the water, hands smoothing down your drenched hair, eyelashes fluttering the droplets away so beautifully his lips fell agape at the sight.
He couldn’t help but stare as you fully rose from the water, a playful smile creasing your lips — and your bikini strap fallen loosely down your arm.
“I—uh, um, your—“
Words failed Michael as he pointed sheepishly at the strap of your bikini, now teasingly revealing the curve of your right breast, falling dangerously down your chest to where one jump and your perky nipple would be free for him to see.
Another twitch!
You peered down at the astray strap, giggling out a breathy laugh as you shimmied it back up, before swimming close to him, “Thank you, sweetie.” You whispered, leaning up to press a soft, tantalising kiss to his damp cheek — only worsening the now painful boner he hid beneath the water.
You swam around him, unaware you’d left him speechless, congratulating La Toya for winning the game. Michael shut his eyes briefly — letting them flicker shut, gulping down his pride, as composed himself. He was surely a goner after this.
Sure you flirted with everyone, even making playful, promiscuous comments towards his sister’s, but you did it with him the most. Even more so than with your own boyfriend. He tried to pretend he didn’t notice it — but when you touched and teased him so often, it was becoming all he could focus on.
Michael rose out of the pool quickly, swift feet already dragging him halfway across the backyard before his name was called. He didn’t stop to turn around, just called out that he was ‘getting too hot’, continuing racing into the house before anyone could convince him otherwise, running up the stairs to the quiet of his bedroom.
His bedroom door slammed shut as he tripped over his own feet, scrambling to his bed, kicking off his shorts as he went. He couldn’t wait any longer — his cock was so hard from your relentless teasing that if he didn’t do something about it right now he was certain he was going to cry. He situated himself on his back, cock, now free from the confines of his damp swimming shorts, bobbed against the bare of his stomach, begging to be dealt with.
Michael’s eyes fluttered shut — hand hovering over his aching length, the fight between arousing relief or prolonged innocence battled in his head.
But, the sound of your sweet, loud laughter through his open bedroom window had him wrapping a firm first around the base.
A quiet gasp left his parted lips, eyes still squeezed shut as he stroked himself tantalisingly slowly — a whine bubbling in the back of his throat. His chest heaved, hips twitching as he bucked up into his own hand, pre-cum now drooling from the mauve tip of his stiffened cock — the relief he had been begging for all day now finally being washed over him.
The swift motions of his hand had his head falling back against the pillow — hips jerking upwards wildly, chasing his own hand as he fucked his palm like a mutt in heat, quiet little whines of pleasure filling the quiet room, along with a subtle yet equally as needy whimper of your name fell past his lips, only adding to the oozing drip of pre that fell from his swollen tip.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
In his state of engrossed arousal, Michael hadn’t noticed your presence in the doorway to his bedroom — your half-naked frame leant against his doorframe, droplets of water from your soaking wet bikini, one that had him in the lustful trance in the first place, falling onto the plush of his carpet. He shot up from the mattress, now perched on the edge, both palms now shielding his obvious hard-on from you as if you hadn’t watched him stroke himself to you a mere few seconds ago.
“I—oh, God, I-I wasn’t, I—“
“You’re so sweet, Michael.”
Your words forced his furrowed eyebrows together in confusion — sweet? Sweet for fucking his hand while moaning his brother’s girlfriend’s name? Surely you must be mistaken?
You slithered into the room, shutting the door behind you and clicking the lock closed — a sound that had Michael’s heart thumping so loud in his head his ears rang. You turned to face him once more, a teasing smile plastered back onto your perfect face.
“What a treat you’ve blessed me with, baby.” You started, walking slowly towards him, your hair swaying behind, now fallen from your ponytail, “I just wanted to use your shower, honey, and I’m so glad I did.”
“I-I’m so sorry—“
“Hush, darling.” You whispered, finally approaching him with a finger to his lips, smirking at the way his trembling hands attempted to cover his bare cock between his legs. Your hand moved to cup his flushed cheek, “There’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s completely natural, sweet boy.”
“B-But, I-I said—“
“I know what you said, Michael.” Your voice as smooth as honey as your nimble fingers shuffled down his face to thumb his bottom lip, “I’m not angry at you, baby. I’m flattered, but also worried.”
“Worried?” He questioned, voice cracking as his frantic eyes never left your own, watching as you crouched in between his legs.
“Yeah, sweetie.” You comforted, your free hand now resting against the bare of his meaty thigh, smirk depending at the way he jumped, “Noticed how hard you were hours ago, baby. Must be so painful for my little Mikey, hm?”
“Oh, God.” Michael whined, embarrassment swarming his body, wanting nothing more than to cover his blushing face, but not wanting to reveal his slightly softening cock to you as you perched between him.
You giggled so sweetly despite the situation you were in, “Has it been painful, my baby?”
Michael attempted to ignore the way his cock began to harden underneath the grasp of his large hands at his referral as ‘your baby’. He gulped, breath hitching in his chest, before nodding meekly, face nestling into your palm innocently.
“Oh, angel.” You babied, your voice a sweet comfort to his embarrassed ears, now slightly hunched over as to make himself smaller in a situation where he felt so big and exposed, “Let me help you.”
Michael’s eyes shot open, “What?”
You smiled, lolling your head to the side, “I’ll make you feel so much better, sweet baby.”
“But, what about Jer—“
“Enough about him. He should be thankful he has a girl who wants to make his little brother so happy, hm?” You cut him off swiftly, your answers so reasonable yet so manipulative at the same time, going deaf upon his aroused ears, “What are big sister-in-laws for, huh, baby?”
Your smaller, more experienced hands enclosed around his own, tugging gently to move them away from imprisoning his cock — revelling in the way he whined bashfully, head turning the other way as his stiff dick sprung free. You sighed in admiration, eyes locked on the sheer length and girth of him — he was bigger than Jermaine despite the age and build difference in them, which only forced your eager mouth to salivate.
Your nimble hand wrapped around the base of him gently, sliding to your knees fully, as you gave him one languid stroke from shaft to tip. Michael whined so desperately it had you squeezing your thighs together at the sound of his arousal — a glob of pre-cum erupting from his flushed tip, drooling down your digits.
Michael couldn’t help but make the sweetest of noises as your plump lips, the one’s he’d been fantasising about since he met you, wrapped around the head of his cock — the feeling he’d once felt for you earlier, that he couldn’t place, crept up his spine.
Ah, so that was it.
Irrevocable, soul-destroying arousal.
He huffed, a whimper leaving his agape lips, now peering down at your frame beneath him — watching as you bobbed up and down his length, hand pumping him simultaneously at the base. Michael, never having had his dick sucked before, was still sincerely impressed with the way you managed to fit all of his cock down your greedy throat — moving your now free hand to squeeze his shaking thighs to provide him some comfort as your throat constricted around him, his tip punching the back of your throat so deliciously it had you gagging, and him gnawing on his bottom lip so hard he coild taste blood to hold back his needy moans.
“T-This is s-so wrong.” He whimpered, hands bawled into fists at his sides, face contorted into one pure arousal.
You released off of him with a pop, hand continuing to pump him slowly, “But, you love it, don’t ya, angel?” You teased, pressed a gentle kiss to the head, revelling in the way he whined, “Just givin’ my sweet, baby brother-in-law a hand when he’s so het up ‘cuz of me.”
Michael groaned, eyebrow furrowing deeper into the crease of his forehead as you licked a stripe up the shaft of his cock, tracing the throbbing vein that adorned his length.
“Please.”
“Please, what, baby?”
“Please, I—I, I can’t—I need—Need more.”
You grinned, rising to your feet without a second thought at his submissive whines of need — reaching at your sides to pull at the strings of your bikini, letting the bottoms fall to the ground, revealing your perfect, slick pussy to his eager eyes.
A gentle yet commanding hand met his thumping chest, pushing him backwards onto the bed, letting his back hit the mattress before crawling up his slim frame. Michael’s exposed cock twitched and thrashed against his abdomen wildly as he watched you intently, awaiting your next move.
His breath caught in his throat as you straddled his hips, your bare pussy lips engulfed the girth of his hot cock — a strained squeak hitching in his mouth at the feeling of your warm sex against him.
“Have you done this before, Michael?” You questioned, your voice dropping an octave, now a sexy, teasing tone that had him suppressing another whimper, “Made love to a woman?”
Michael shook his head quickly, saliva moving slickly down his throat, ogling at the way you now reached behind your back, tugging the strings of your bikini top down — letting the flimsy material fall from your chest, exposing your perky tits to his enthusiastic eyes.
“Good.” You whispered, letting your hips move voluntarily against his own, the sleek of your cunt gliding against his manhood, meek whimpers leaving both of your lips, “I knew you were special, baby — hadn’t been ruined yet.”
Michael whimpered as you continued to rock back and forth against him, your stark naked body moving on him with experienced precision that had his head reeling — admiring the way you let your hands crawl up your body, now adorning glorious tan-lines, to cup your bouncing tits or rake through your hair. You were truly an angel that fell from heaven to bless him with your beauty.
“Touch me, Michael.” You coaxed, grasping his hands in your own to grab a handful of your pudgy hips, “Like I taught you earlier, remember? Don’t be afraid to hold me, sweet boy.” You leant down, breast pressed against his bare chest, nipples rolling against him, lips brushing against the shell of his ear, “I want to feel you everywhere.”
“Oh, Lord, please.”
Michael cursed the neediness in his voice as he tightened his grip on your hips, not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you aware of his burning desire to rid himself of the ache in his cock, now the hardest it’s ever been in his life.
“Shh, I got you, baby, it’s okay — I’ll make it all better.”
Your reassuring tone had Michael nodding hysterically — restless to feel better like you promised him so beautifully. Your hips lifted from his own, shushing him as he whined at the loss of touch. A tentative hand grasped the base of him once more, sliding the warm, oozing head between your slippery folds — sighing in content as he nudged your clit. You slicked him up with the essence of your lust — letting it drop down the length of him before lining him up to your willing entrance.
“Ready, baby?”
Michael couldn’t have nodded faster.
“Use your words, Michael. Need to hear my baby say how badly he wants to feel my pussy.”
“Please, god, please, baby, please — need it, need to—Ah!” Michael’s eyes rolled to the back of his head instantly with a gasp at the feeling of your clenching cunt wrapped around his virgin cock, only widening the smirk that clad your face.
You hummed in delight as you sank further and further down him — letting his thick cock stretch you open inch by inch, the burn you craved each time you fucked his brother now hitting you full force, the length you desired from a man now ramming you to the brim.
“So big, Mikey.” You sighed, a hand pressing against his chest to steady yourself, “So much bigger than Jer.”
“My goodness, baby, y-you’re killin’ me.” Michael admitted, catching his breath, doe eyes meeting your own, “Wanted this for so long.”
A breath of flattery left your lips as you rose all the way to the tip of his cock, and back down again, slamming your hips down onto his own, “You’re such a sweet boy, darling. My favourite brother in the whole family.”
Michael couldn’t contain the whines and groans that left him, hands now resting in the curve of your waist, following every calculated movement of your body as you bounced on his cock.
“Kiss.” Michael pleaded, eyes brimming with tears at the sheer volume of pleasuring stimulation he was experiencing, “Kiss me, please.”
Your heart, now fogged with blinding lust, ached at the innocence of him — even despite having the girl he was in love with riding his dick before him, he was still only desperate for a kiss.
You leant down, hand lacing into his curls once more, connecting your lips in a frantic, messy kiss, swallowing every noise that left his dirty throat. Michael’s tongue forced its way into your mouth — the hot muscle tangling with your own in a feverish dance that had your clit twitching against the pubic bone you ground it down onto. You broke away from the kiss to move down his face — the corner of his mouth, cheek, jawline, neck. And once you got there, you wasted no time in licking at the soft skin, basking in the salty taste of sweat on his sun-kissed flesh.
“Could eat you up all day, baby.” You whispered, sucking the sweet spot beneath his earlobe that had his hips bucking up into you, tip ramming against your cervix — hands tightening at your sides.
Sitting back up, not before pressing another kiss to Michael’s lips, you admired the sight beneath you — his puppy dog eyes clouded with lust, petering up at you in such admiration it had your heart bursting, his God-like body carved so perfectly you couldn’t help but rub your fingertips over each ridge of his abs, glistening in the sweat as the humid air in the bedroom increased, and his frizzed up curls now spread across the bed-sheets messily underneath him.
He looked so perfectly destroyable.
“Oh, God — I-I’m gonna—soon.”
Your hips ground down on him once more, continuing to rise and fall back down onto him — the slick of your pussy coating his cock in a sheen, a white, frothy ring of your juices forming at the base. As well as letting sweet, delicious moans of pleasure fall past your rosebud lips, you rolled your aching nub against the dense of his pubic bone — hitting his ears in such a way that had him throbbing inside you.
“Oh, Michael.”
The sound of his name leaving your lips, a scenario he was once imagining while he fucked his hand before you caught him in the act, had him moaning so loud, your hand came up to cover his ajar mouth.
“Gotta keep quiet, baby, or else I’ll have to stop,” You whispered, leaning down to lock eyes with the obedient boy beneath you, “Keep that mouth busy.”
Michael, set on pleasuring you in a way he was still figuring out, latched his mouth to the one thing he’d had his eye on since you arrived at his house — your tits. His puckered lips wrapped around your erect nipple — sucking sensually, soft sighs of content vibrating around the nub. Your back arched against him, tits now shoved into his face, not that he minded, his free hand from your waist, now cupping the lonely breast, fingers rolling the bud between his fingers.
Your erotic noises hit his ears in a way that had him buzzing with confidence — your eyes fixating on the way his tongue left your poised nipple to trace the newly forced tan-line around your breast.
“Fuck, Michael.” You gasped, jaw falling slack as your hips continued to grind against the rigid bone, stimulating your pulsating clitoris while Michael’s hands were busy, “‘Gonna fuckin’ cum on your cock, baby.”
“Mm, please,” Michael whined, his lips pulling from your tit, saliva connecting his lips to your swollen nipple in an erotic scene, “Wanna cum so bad, mama.”
Your head thrust back as you moaned — now succumbing to the pleasure that coursed through your veins, any ounce of dominance you once had now spilling away at the feeling of his tongue lapping at your nipple.
Michael, despite feeling guilty for not bringing the lady there before him, climaxed first — ropes and ropes of his fertile seed flooding your womb, whines only getting louder around the comfort of your breast, hands gripping around your waist tighter at the feeling of your cunt quivering around him.
“I love you, I love you, I love yo—Aah!” Was the only words that left Michael’s lips once he popped off your tit, a blush creeping up onto your cheeks at his admission.
You soon followed — one more roll of your clit against him and a suck against your breast had had you orgasming around him so beautifully it left Michael speechless despite his own climax continuing. You looked so pretty like this — back arched, eyes rolled to the back of your head, cunt milking him for all he had to give, gorgeous little moans falling past your plump lips, as well as an ‘I love you too, Mikey’ that had him whining bashfully for the last time.
He felt as though any ounce of self-respect and maturity he had left in his body that threatened to fight his devotion and infatuation towards you had just been diminished to dust at the sight of you cumming around him.
You hummed in delight, flopping forward to lay tiredly on his chest — a hand tracing the definition of his peck, his cock still flush inside you, now softening, “Y’did such a good job, baby.” You whispered, tracing love hearts into his warm skin, “Do you feel better now?”
Despite the feeling of guilt that threatened to creep up his spine at the reminding thought that you still belonged to his brother, he pushed it to the back of his hazy mind, deciding the only acceptable and truthful answer was,
The summer that Michael Jackson arrived at your father’s ranch, the sweltering heat had just begun to settle thickly over the county. Everything was moving slowly. Horses strolled lazily through the pastures with their heads low and tails flicking around, the cicadas screaming from the trees from dawn til dusk, and no matter how often you kicked your boots against the wooden steps, the stubborn dust clung to the leather.
Your father was the rancher, and he hired new hands almost every season. Most of them blurred together in your memory. They were loud ass men with even louder opinions, stinking of tobacco and kicking their muddy boots onto furniture without a thought. They treated flirting like a sport and the livestock like machinery. You hated them.
You could tell Michael was different before he even spoke. You first noticed him at sunrise, standing quietly near a fence. One hand rested against the rail while a stressed mare pressed her face against him .
That horse hated strangers. She’d usually kick and bite at anyone who tried to get close to her. Michael stood there patiently, whispering softly in her ear. After a little while, the mare nudged against his palm with a friendly huff. Michael's face lit up with such cute boyish joy that you found yourself halted a few feet away simply watching, a small smile gracing your features.
“You got some kinda magic trick there? Or are you just a horse whisperer in disguise?” you called out from the doorway.
He startled slightly, before turning to look at you properly. The first thing that hit you was how young he looked when he smiled. Not exactly childish but softer and gentler than any man you’d met out here.
‘No ma’am,’ he replied in a low voice. ‘She's just a lil nervous is all.’
‘She bites usually. Meaner than a wet panther.’
Michael turned his attention back to the mare, stroking her mane. ‘Im assumin’ she only decides to act up when people don't listen to her needs.’
You laughed before you could help yourself, and he tilted his head to the side a little as he looked right back at you.
Over the next few weeks, you found yourself making every excuse to linger around whatever task Michael happened to be doing. You blamed it on curiosity, and frankly everyone was a little fascinated with Michael. The other ranch hands were so rough-edged and disrespectful, always performing. But Michael never joined in when the bunkhouse conversation went crude. He never whistled at the girls in town, and never tried to talk over people.
He listened more than he spoke, and when he did decide to bless people with a chat, it was sweet. The animals could tell immediately. The cats curled around his boots, and horses and cows that usually needed 4 grown men to hold them still would casually trot around after him. One time you even found him sitting in the hay beside an injured lamb, carefully bottle feeding it and singing a soft song under his breath.
‘You know,’ you began with a teasing lilt in your voice, leaning against the stall doorway, ‘most boys round here try to impress the local gals a little,’
Michael looked up, the golden barn light shimmering off the dark curls falling around his neck. ‘Yeah well… I reckon I like the sheep better’
You placed a dramatic hand on your chest, ‘Now that's just plain rude, ain’t it?’
A small chuckle escaped him, and he looked down to hide the expression on his face. ‘Just makin’ sure you know where I stand, missy.’
By the time it was August, the ranch settled into a rhythm that pulled the two of you together. You rode the fence lines with him at the break of dawn, the fields glowing gold with morning light. You handed him tools while trying not to ogle the way the veins in his forearms stood out with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He even teased you sometimes, whenever you accidentally tracked mud through his freshly swept barn floor or got headbutted by a hyperactive goat.
‘You write poetry or somethin’ in there, hmm?’ you asked one day, nodding toward the small leather wrapped notebook he always had tucked in his back pocket.
He looked horrified, like he had been caught red handed. ‘No.’
‘Diary entries?’
‘No.’
‘Ooh, letters to a secret family back yonder?’ you joked.
‘It’s livestock inventory.’ he insisted, though his ears tinged pink.
‘Aw, shoot. Terribly boring.’
He laughed quietly, his shoulders shaking as he looked down at his boots and kicked a small rock around. You’d quickly learned that Michael didn't just chuckle, he laughed with his whole body.
And slowly, impossibly but surely, he began flirting back. It wasn’t vulgar or crude like you were used to hearing. Rather, Michael was teasingly sweet and subtle, keeping you off balance and giddy.
One evening, while you were helping him brush down a mare after a long day of riding, you caught him watching you from across the stables.
‘What?’ you asked, pausing.
‘Nothin’.’
‘You're starin’ at me, Michael,’
His lips twitched a little, his gaze locking on yours with a sudden intensity. ‘Maybe I just like lookin’ at ya. Ever thought of that, miss?’
You froze, your hand going completely still against the horse. Michael seemed to realise what he'd said too late. His brown eyes widened and he looked away quickly, plunging his sponge back in the sudsy water and lifting and scrubbing one of the bridles from his pile of dirty gear. The silence was warm.
‘You’re terrible at flirtin’. Can't even look me in the eye, can ya?’
‘No ma'am, I can't.’ he replied with a breathless laugh, still facing the horse tack.
By September your father had noticed the change. He hadn’t pieced everything together, but he definitely noticed something.
‘You're distraction’ that boy,’ he muttered one morning over coffee.
‘I’m actually helpin’ him work, Daddy,’
He set his heavy mug down with a thud.
‘No darlin’, you’re sittin’ on fences and watchin’ him stack hay. He’s supposed to be mendin’ the east pasture, not starin’ back at ya like a pole axed calf’
‘It’s called moral support, Daddy,’
Your father just rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath before continuing to read his paper.
Towards the end of the month, the county dance rolled around, held in a huge barn near town that was decorated with lanterns and bunting and crowded with people. Music flowed joyfully from the quartet up on stage, and couples spun around on the floor in unison.
Michael almost didn’t go. You had to corner him at the stables while he was cleaning.
‘You’re comin’ to that dance, Mikey.’
‘I can’t dance to that kind of music.’
‘That's a shameless lie. You walk around humming and shimmying all day long.’
‘That has nothing to do with a two step, girl.’
‘It absolutely does, boy.’
He eventually relented after your endless pestering, and when he actually showed up your breath caught instantly in your throat. He had on a crisp black shirt, clean glossed boots and his soft curls fell perfectly over his forehead just under his hat. Michael always looked beautiful, but this was getting out of hand. He looked dangerous.
The dance was a blurry haze of country music, laughter, and the pleasant heat of the crowded room. The cheap beer getting passed around tasted horrible, and you felt a little overwhelmed at times but it was ok, because Michael was always there, a constant anchor.
At one point during the night, a rowdy cowboy from a nearby ranch you recognised tried pulling you onto the dance floor a little too roughly. He didn't even ask properly! Before you could even find your voice to react, Michael spawned out of nowhere stepping directly between you both
‘She said no, mister.’
He wasn't loud, in fact it was actually quiet, but there was an icy steel in his tone that you'd never heard before. The other man rolled his eyes and moved away wiggling his brows at another woman who was dancing with her husband across the room.
You looked up at Michael, surprised by the tension in his jaw and shoulders.
‘You okay, miss?’ he asked softly.
You breathed an affirmative, the tenderness in his voice hitting you harder than the protectiveness. He nodded once but he didn't take his eyes off you for the rest of the night, always close enough for your shoulders to brush.
Much later, when the crowd thinned and the music slowed to a quiet sleepy hum, you both stepped out to the hitching posts. The sky was deep and ink-blue, stars scattered across the wide expanse. The air smelled like hay, horses, and smoke from the firepit behind the barn. Your father’s wagon should have been waiting where he’d left it. It wasn’t.
You stopped and Michael slowed beside you. ‘He already left?’
You frowned, scanning up and down the dark road beyond the fence line. ‘That doesn’t make any sense.’
You groaned and crouched, putting your face in your hands.
‘He thinks you’re takin’ me back,’ you told him.
Michael blinked in confusion. ‘I am takin’ you back.’
‘No, like.’ You gestured loosely toward the empty road. ‘He left early, with the cart.’
Somewhere behind you, the barn door creaked shut as the last of the dancers left. The night felt longer now, and you couldn't breathe properly. Michael shifted slightly, moving his weight from one foot to the other. “I can ride you back.”
‘That’s not a phrase I enjoy hearing out loud.’ you sighed.
His mouth twitched, but he didn’t fully smile. Not yet.
‘I mean you can ride with me. On my horse.’
You stared at him blankly, and he stared back, tilting his head in that cute manner that always disarmed you.
‘I’ve never done that,” you admitted. ‘I’ve always been terrified.’
‘I know.’
Michael stepped closer to the horse first, hand grazing against its neck, speaking to it softly under his breath. The animal shifted immediately, easing into him. The way the animals responded to him always made you melt. In a way you related to them. The feeling of everything in your head being made quieter just by his presence nearby.
He turned back to you.
‘You’ll sit in front,’ he said. ‘I’ll be behind you. Just… stay still, alright?’
You nodded, your heart beating in your chest so hard you weren’t sure you could even hear him properly. The mount was easier than expected, though. Easier for him, at least. He stepped up first with practiced ease, not even using the stirrups to vault on. He then turned slightly, offering a hand down to you. His grip was firm when he pulled you up, steadying you as you found your balance in front of him.
And then suddenly he was there. Behind you, the smell of him overtaking your senses. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the solid presence of him in the saddle. The sound of his breath when he adjusted, him being careful not to crowd you but his closeness impossible to ignore anyway.
‘You comfortable?’ he asked.
His voice was lower. A warmth bloomed in your gut and you screwed your eyes shut, swallowing thickly.
‘Yes,’ you lied.
A quiet pause.
‘You’re grippin’ the reins like they owe you somethin’,’ he said.
‘I don’t know what to do with my hands.’
A breath escaped his nose much like a stifled laugh. You could practically see his smile as he reached forward carefully, not quite touching you as he adjusted your grip. His hand brushed yours for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled back.
‘Like that.’ he said.
The horse began moving slowly, and eventually into a trot. Michael leaned into your neck when he sensed the tension in your frame.
‘There you go, darlin’. You’re doin’ great. Just hold on for me.’
The world shifted around you as the ranch fell away behind. Fence posts passing in rhythm as you sped up into a canter. You could feel Michael behind you with every movement.
At one point, the horse shifted slightly over uneven ground, and you instinctively stiffened again. Michael’s hand came to your side then, anchoring you both physically and mentally.
‘You’re fine,’ he said softly.
As you sped across the land, the wind moved through your hair and made your eyes water, but you were enjoying yourself. You were acutely aware of the fact that your hair was probably getting all in his face, but his breathing stayed steady behind you.
Occasionally, his arm would shift a bit to guide the horse, brushing close enough that a shot of heat swirled in your pelvis each time.
‘You’re good at this,” you spoke eventually, quieter than you meant.
‘I’ve been ridin’ a long time,’ he replied.
‘That’s not what I meant.’
When you got home, and the horse was cleaned and fast asleep in her stable you walked over to michael again.
‘You still owe me a dance, Michael,’ you said quietly, breaking the stillness. He glanced at you from where he leaned back against the door and a faint smile pulled at his mouth .
‘I warned you, miss’ he said. ‘I’m liable to step on your toes,’
‘I’ll take my chances, cowboy.’
He raised his brows but after a silent moment that felt a little too charged to be casual, he pushed off the stall door and held out his hand. You looked at it for half a second longer than necessary before taking it. His palm closed around yours gently, warm and slightly rough, He guided you closer without pulling, like he was still asking permission even now.
The barn had gone completely still. You guys didn’t really dance. You swayed more than anything. Small movements, slow circles.
Michael looked at you once, properly, eyes wide and doe like. Then, almost immediately, he looked away again, as if the moment had been too loud.
‘Do you always get this shy at the worst possible times?’ you murmured, leaning closer without thinking.
A quiet breath of a laugh left him, warm enough to feel it.
‘Uh.. probably.’
The honesty made your chest tighten
‘You know,’ you said softly, ‘I like you too. You don’t have to act like I’m some… I don’t know. Something you might scare off.’
When he looked at you, it wasn’t confidence that answered back
‘You do?’ he asked, quieter than before.
You let out a small, disbelieving sound. ‘Michael.’
‘I just…’ He hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly like he was trying to hold himself together. ‘I needed to be sure.’
‘You follow me around like a lost puppy,’ you said, amused. ‘And you nearly challenged a man twice your size earlier to a duel for looking at me wrong.’
His ears tinged pink immediately.
‘He was disrespecting you,’ he said, like it was obvious. ‘And I'd never duel.’
Your expression softened. Of course that was his reason. Of course it wasn’t his ego. Or his pride or anything. Just him.
Without really thinking about it, your hand lifted, your fingers brushing lightly along his jaw. The touch was featherlight and barely there. Michael inhaled sharply and a small sound escaped him, causing you to press your thighs together to suppress the growing arousal between your legs.
The space between you gave way.
He kissed you like something inside him had finally stopped holding its breath. At first it was careful, almost hesitant in the way someone touches something they’ve wanted to believe in but didn’t trust yet. But the moment you kissed him back, that restraint unraveled.
His hand at your waist steadied you and then pulled you closer, not forceful, just certain in a way he hadn’t been a second before. Your hand slid into his hair as if it had always belonged there. Months of almost-moments seemed to collapse into this one, like everything unspoken had finally found somewhere to land.
When you finally broke apart, Michael stayed close, forehead resting against yours, breath uneven and mingling.
A wave of confidence overcame you and you trailed a hand down his chest, pausing at his belt buckle, his whimpering only spurring you on. He crowded you closer to the nearby wall, slipping a thigh between yours before leaning into your neck and inhaling with a shudder.
You reached up and plucked his hat off his head and placed it on your own. His eyes got darker before he licked his lips, his chest rising and falling faster than he’d ever admit.
‘You know, there's a rule about cowboy hats, missy,’ he smoothly whispered into your ear, the pet name rolling off his lips naturally. ‘Wear the hat…’
You grinned mischievously at his newfound confidence and flirtiness.
‘I'm well aware, Mikey. That's kinda the point.’
The kiss that came next was hungry, all teeth and tongue, before Michael hoisted you up to wrap your legs around his waist. He walked you to the large outbuilding where the supplies were kept.
He sucked kisses onto your neck as he sat down on the old sofa with you atop him, marking your skin, and relishing in the satisfied sounds he coaxed out of you.
Before you knew it, you were bare on top, Michael staring slack jawed at your tits in front of him with your blouse strewn across the room and his too-big on your head.
He pinched and rolled your nipples, grinding your hips together as you slipped off his belt. He leaned forward to nip and work your tits, building you up already. He rubbed you through your panties, groaning uncharacteristically loudly when he felt the dampness.
He held your hips, grinding you down onto his hard bulge beneath his trousers. You felt your pleasure building surprisingly fast just from the sensation of his dick pressing against your swollen clit through the fabric.
He moved you faster and harder, moaning against your neck as he sucked and kissed, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You felt your orgasm approaching already and you fell forward onto him when white hot pleasure exploded behind your eyelids.
He stripped you completely, not wasting any time and laying you against the old sofa, whispering apologies that this isn’t the way they should be doing this for the first time, it should be soft and sweet. But you didn’t care, you wanted him and you wanted him bad.
He got on his knees, pulling your panties to the side, but not before kissing all over your pussy through the fabric.
‘You’re already so wet. I’m barely touchin’ ya’
He pressed his fingers against your glistening clit, making you buck desperately against him. This encouraged him to start rubbing, circular motions at first, swirling around your wetness to lubricate his fingers.
‘Want me to fuck you? Mm? C’mon missy,’
You whimpered, helpless, and nodded furiously.
You felt him about to lower his fingers to fingerblast you, and you waited with bated breath before he moved away completely. You were about to protest angrily, before noticing he had hopped over to the corner of the outbuilding, using a water bottle and some soap to clean his hands.
Your face softened as you watched. There was no way this man stopped just to go and wash his hands before he slid his fingers in.
‘Michael…’
‘I don’t want you gettin’ any sort of infection,’ he explained and you burst into a fit of giggles, mentally thanking every deity ever that he was into you.
He sank to his knees again to continue his ministrations, sliding his fingers in deeply, satisfied by your choked moan. He lowered his head to lick and suck at your pussy. Before you could explode, though, he pulled away and slid off his underwear.
You stared with your mouth open at the sight before you. His cock was thick and heavy, your pussy clenched involuntarily when he grabbed ahold of it and stroked it a few times. The schlck schlck schlck sound from the precum leaking out of him sent a jolt of pleasure through you.
He whimpered a little as he guided his tip to your entrance, slowly pressing his length into you, leaning forward to toy with your nipples and lock his lips with yours, swallowing all your needy noises. He pressed further, moaning against your mouth as he bottomed out.
He took a moment for you to adjust, and for him to catch his breath. Your pussy was squeezing him so tight, he had to concentrate actively so he wasn’t possessed by a deranged side of him that just wanted to thrust and thrust til he put a baby in you or he ran out of cum, whichever came last.
You could practically feel his heartbeat throbbing in you in time with his pulse.
‘Holy fuck, darlin’. Perfect fit aren’t we?’ he whimpered breathlessly as he rolled his hips against you, making your head fall back.
He kept a steady pace, fucking into you as deeply as he could, using his thumb to messily rub at your clit, making you clench around him. He bit at your neck as you played with his hair, his dick bullying deeper than you could’ve possibly imagined.
You could feel your body climbing towards another orgasm, and the blissed out look on Michael's face when you stared at him told you he was also close.
‘Michael? Cum with me? Please?’
He groaned in your ear, repeating affirmatives, telling you he couldn’t wait to feel you milk him as you came together, and have his cum filling you. You felt your muscles jerk as your climax hit you suddenly, and he kissed you to muffle both your loud cries of pleasure, filling you up at the same time.
He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, breathing heavily.
Smut too but maybe put in two parts, so the smut can be in the second bit?
michael jackson x reader
You played with your fountain pen absentmindedly, spinning it around in your hand as you lay in Michael’s bed, reading the same paragraph for the fourth time. A knock sounded against the door.
“Come in,” you called out, sitting up straighter.
The door opened slowly and Michael peered in for a minute before sliding inside.
“You know you don’t have to knock, Michael. It’s your room.”
He gave a shrug as he shut the door behind him. You laughed softly and tossed a strawberry at him from the bowl in your lap. He caught it awkwardly against his chest before popping it into his mouth with a satisfied nod.
“What’re you reading?”
Immediately, you lit up.
“Okay so, it’s about this college student who thinks her professor killed his wife, but then she starts falling in love with him which I personally think is a terrible plot and a terrible idea on her part, but at this point I'm sort of rooting for them—”
Michael settled onto the floor beside the bed, leaning back against the frame. One of his knees was bent up slightly as he flipped the book over in his hands, skimming and scanning the contents while you continued rambling.
He always listened properly. Not the fake kind where people just nod until you shut up. No, Michael actually listened as if he was taking in everything you were saying.
“That… kinda sounds stupid,” he said finally.
You gasped. “I’m offended.”
“I just don’t think it’s morally correct. I mean, she’s his student.’
“That’s not the point, Michael,” You whacked his head lightly with the book, causing him to groan – a sound you enjoyed a little too much..
You grinned before suddenly remembering.
“Oh my god! Wait.” You pointed excitedly toward the corner of the room. “I almost forgot! I got you something for Valentine’s Day.”
Michael’s expression shifted into confusion.
“Oh. For…me?”
“Who else? Come on, Michael, keep up!”
He glanced toward the large gift bag sitting at the corner, coloured tissue paper sticking out the top. His brows furrowed as he wondered how he missed this when you first came in.
“We never really celebrated Valentine’s Day growing up,” he said after a moment. “My parents said those things were…I don’t know. Pagan or something.”
“Well, it’s your lucky day.” You spread your arms. “This is your first ever Valentine’s now. I am honoured to be the one to start it off”
He looked down and then back at you, still hesitant.
“You didn’t have to get me anything, you know,”
“I know.” You smiled. “I wanted to.”
The room went quiet for a second. It was the type of tension where your stomach suddenly wa extra aware that Michael is sitting close enough to you for your foot to brush his shoulder if you stretched a bit.
You cleared your throat quickly.
“I’m baking a cake later too,” you told him. “And decorating the living room. Your family will in fact be participating, I’m afraid they have no choice.”
Michael shook his head faintly, looking down at the book in his hands with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“You’re so stupid,”
“Michael. Just imagine how sad this house would look without pink decorations. Saint Valentine would be disappointed”
“It does already look sad. This is what happens when the whole family gets a say on interior design,” he grumbled.
“That is exactly why I’m fixing it, Michael!”
He laughed again then, quieter this time. You swallowed as you felt warmth rush to your cheeks. You were so fucked.
By six o’clock, the entire house smelt like vanilla and frosting. You had enlisted all the brothers to help you, and they did… to a degree.
Pink streamers hung unevenly from the ceiling because Marlon kept taping them too high on purpose.
“C’mon, higher,” he insisted from the chair he was standing on.
“At what point does this become a fire hazard, Marlon?”
“I see why Michael had to go over to the studio to write. This clearly isn’t the environment for serious creatives–”
As if on cue, Michael walked in carrying his pad and pen, and stopped dead in his tracks.
The living room looked… like valentines. Red hearts all over the walls, half the table buried under sweets, paper hearts hanging from the ceiling fan which spun slowly.
You grinned from ear to ear and Michael simply stared, gobsmacked but he couldn’t help the goofy smile forming on his face at the sight of the room.
That stupid smile was definitely becoming your favourite thing lately.
“Michael!” you yelled suddenly, a desperate attempt to quell the heat rising in your gut. You pointed toward the kitchen. “Cake.”
“Oh.”
“It means stop standing there in awe and come ice this thing with me.”
Five minutes later, he was standing beside you at the counter spreading icing over the cake with surprising skill. You smiled internally; he was Michael Jackson after all.
“You missed a spot,” you told him.
“No I didn’t.”
“Right there.” You leaned in closer, pointing near the edge.
Michael glanced down at the cake. Then at you. Then back at the cake again. His shoulder brushed against yours lightly as he reached across the counter. You froze as you became painfully aware of his arm against yours, and the flour dusted across his skin. The faint smell of detergent coming off his clothes made you actually close your eyes and take a deep breath.
Jermaine walked past the kitchen entrance, paused, then backed up immediately.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“What?” you and Michael responded at the same time.
“The sexual tension in here…” he said with a laugh, looking back and forth between the two of you.
Michael felt heat rush to his cheeks. “Uh…there’s no tension.”
Jermaine snorted. “Right.”
“Just shut upppp,” you and Michael whined in unison.
Jermaine points between you both slowly. “Holy shit. That was disgusting. You’re becoming the same person.”
Michael rolled his eyes, but his ears were tinged pink. You noticed. Unfortunately for you, you seemed to notice everything about him recently.
Later that night, the living room settled into a calm chaos. Disco music played softly from the stereo while everyone sat around with paper plates balanced on their knees. Empty fizzy drink cans cluttered the coffee table. At one point, someone began arguing about the best romantic movie ever made and the discussion becomes increasingly hostile.
“It’s obviously The Way we were,” you said firmly.
“That movie is just tragic, hardly romantic,”
“It’s called emotional depth, you idiots wouldn’t know”
Michael laughed softly beside you on the couch, his shoulders shaking slightly as he took another bite of cake. You glanced at him, and he caught you immediately, to which you nudged him a little.
“You know,” Jackie piped up from across the room, “you guys already act like you’re dating.”
Your entire body froze, and Michael coughed suddenly into his drink.
“Yeah,” Marlon added immediately. “like an old married couple”
Michael sank into the couch cushions beside you, hands covering his face, mortified as he grumbled under his breath.
The house had finally quietened down. The decorations sagged a bit now, and someone’s abandoned cup still sat on the coffee table, lipstick smudged on the rim. Upstairs, the hallway light hummed faintly. Michael didn’t come back downstairs after disappearing after a couple of his brothers went to sleep.
So you followed him, only to find that his bedroom door was ajar. Inside, he was sitting on the edge of the bed and the gift bag sat beside him, untouched.
He looked up when you came in, as if he’d been expecting you. You closed the door softly behind you and crossed the room
“Open it properly, Michael,” you said, nodding at the bag.
He hesitated, then finally reached in. He pulled things out one by one; small, thoughtful pieces, comics, small cassettes… and then his hand stopped.
He pulled out the last item.
A book, Except it wasn’t just any copy. It was a signed copy of the original Peter and Wendy by JM Barrie. It wasn’t a print, or a replica, but actually signed. His fingers tightened around it immediately, like the world had shifted on its axis. He turned it slightly under the light, staring at the ink.
For a second, he didn’t move at all. Then his breaths turned shallow and uncontrolled. You watched his throat work like he was trying to swallow something too big.
“I—” he began, but his voice broke apart halfway through.
He looked down again, thumb brushing over the signature like it might disappear if he didn’t confirm it was real. “You didn’t— You actually got this for me?”
You nodded, staring at the floor. “It’s just a book,” you said lightly.
It absolutely was not just a book, and you both knew that. God knew how much you’d spent on it. His grip tightened again, and then he let out a half breath. You held his hand and smiled at him. That did it. He blinked hard but it didn’t help.
“You didn’t have to do this,” he said, softer now. “You really didn’t.”
plssss jealous needy michael. people have been flirting all night and he can’t take it yk?
mdni
Michael was irritated. No, he was fuming. He’d never been a jealous man, but he was getting to his limit tonight.
You were an up and coming singer, slowly but surely gaining attention and popularity in the music scene recently. You had been invited to your first celebrity event and as expected, the King of Pop was one of the main attendees of the evening. You watched him, aroused to an almost painful degree, as he gave a speech and took photos with almost everyone.
Ignoring the man beside you trying to chat you up not-so-subtly, you sighed and leaned back in your chair, lost in your thoughts.
You and Michael had had sex exactly six and a half times. Half because the first time you were almost caught in the act and you had to hide behind the dressing room door. And for the next few instances, you were extra careful, only ever doing it in utmost privacy.
While it was a spectacular time, and Michael was a fantastic lover, you had an unspoken agreement that it was a friends with benefits situation. If you were honest with yourself, you’d call it a groupie situation, what with how obsessed you were with Michael’s music (and frankly, him) prior to meeting him. There was no way he’d do this with you if you weren’t so easy for him.
Yes, this was just circumstance. You consistently told yourself to just accept this as fact, and that millions of women would quite literally kill to be in your shoes.
However, fucking Michael every few weeks didn’t mean you had to be loyal. You were a woman with needs after all. Your insatiable nature wasn’t quelled by the Michael situation, rather it made it worse. You fantasised about him constantly, your hands between your legs imagining his cock the minute you made it into your bedroom each night.
At the after party, you were sipping a drink chatting to a random person about your music, when a tall handsome man slid into the conversation and smiled brightly at you. Excited to talk music, your favourite thing ever, you gladly filled him in, oblivious to the hunger in his gaze, and the unnecessary brushes of his fingers against your bare shoulder or arm.
Later, a beautiful woman you recognised from TV complimented your dress and makeup, even sliding a hand down your waist with unmistakeable desire. Passing it off as a friendly compliment, you smiled to yourself as you walked over to the fancy buffet station at the far end of the hall.
You were just about to grab a plate when you felt a large warm hand on your shoulder. You gasped and turned around, only to see Michael himself staring down at you. Your jaw, which had dropped in surprise, stayed hanging at you took in his ethereal beauty. He was so damn handsome.
‘Hi. You alright?’ he broke the silence, a small tight smile on his face.
‘Er… yes,’ you responded, all social skills suddenly evaporating at his heavy gaze concentrated on your face.
He looked off behind you for a second, and his jaw clenched. Your brows furrowed and before you could check he spoke again.
‘Can we talk? Your place,’ he asked, a slight hint of desperation in his voice, jaw still clenching and his lips pressed together uncharacteristically firmly.
*
He slammed you against your door the minute you passed the threshold of your new fancy apartment. He peeled off his disguise as soon as he could, an irritated expression marring his usually peaceful face. You could’ve giggled but the initial shock plus his fingers pressing into your skin at the hips was a little distracting…
‘What are you…’
‘Making sure you know exactly what our agreement entails,’ he responded quietly.
We didn’t make an agreement, is what you would’ve said if you weren’t soaking wet and being pinned against a door by Michael jackson himself. All your body could do was comply.
His lips found your neck, and he bit down gently making you gasp. You felt his lips form a smile against your skin at your reaction, his large hands cupping your ass and pulling you as close as possible.
He was already hard, dick straining in his trousers and pressing against you where you were joined at the hips. You grabbed his ass, making a stifled laugh escape him. Another wave of jealousy washed over him as he remembered all those people flirting with you today. How dare they? Would they have acted any different if they’d known he’d already staked his claim?
He hated talking as if the women he slept with were mere conquests but you… you were his. He couldn’t change his mind on that.
With a groan, he hiked up your dress and slipped his hand over your underwear, pressing his fingers down and rubbing you softly over the fabric.
‘Wet. For me?’ he asked simply, waiting for the validation he’d feel when you whined out that this pussy was only for him. No such answer came.
He raised his brows at your resistance, and he noticed you weren’t moaning either like you typically would. He worried he’d lost his touch for a moment before he noticed the horny pent up look on your face, trying to hold it in.
‘Baby… stop fucking playing with me please?’ he tried to remain kind, knowing you were sensitive but it was getting on his nerves.
First you didn't even shut down those horny flirts at the party, and now you wanted to act like he wasn’t making you fall apart. Like he wouldn’t make you scream right then and there. Like he wouldn’t push through all the way til he was shooting blanks just so your insatiable ass was satisfied.
He gritted his teeth and pulled down your panties, sinking to his knees, looking up at you with those doe eyes that never failed to unravel you. The shudder that went through your body made his dick twitch but he still wasn’t happy. He needed you crying.
He lifted one of your legs and put it on his shoulder. He nipped your inner thigh, trailing wet sloppy kisses up to your cunt. You sighed, and he took that as a signal to spread your pussy with his tongue.
He dragged a slender finger up and down your slit, getting it all wet and slippery and sliding it inside with practiced precision.
‘Michael…’ you gasped.
‘Say my name again.,’
‘Oh Michael, please. I want you bad. Fuck me, Michael!’ you exclaimed breathlessly.
He began to thrust his fingers into your pussy, curling them inside you, pressing against that ridged area he knew was the key to your pressure. The already building pleasure multiplied, going from sharp and superficial to deep and mind bending.
He played with your clit with his tongue, watching as you tipped your head back in pleasure, and you pulled his hair sharply in return. He groaned against his own wishes, the vibrations radiating through your whole body.
‘I’m gonna cum, Michael..’
He sucked your clit hard, flicking his tongue and squeezing your thighs as you moaned loudly and flooded his face with your juices. He sucked and licked til you were a blissed out blob only being held up by him. He sighed as the initial fire he felt dulled a little into a low flame.
‘You… you drive me crazy, I hate that everyone was flirting with you. I feel sick when I remember you actually have people on you all the time…’ his honest words trailed off.
‘Michael you can’t be serious. You’re the one who has everyone obsessed with you.’
‘It’s not the same. I actually like yo–’ he cut himself off with a gasp, and he covered his face with both hands, before gaining composure and, terribly, trying to explain that he was seething with jealousy all week and that today was a tipping point.
You stroked his face, he looked completely ashamed but anger was still radiating off him. You tugged him towards your couch and sat on his lap, freeing his leaking dick and kissing his forehead.
He stroked his cock a few times, pressing it against your hole. He looked into your eyes for consent, before sliding it into you at your nod. A choked groan escaped him as he bottomed out, your pussy accommodating him with a stretch. He didn’t wait for you to adjust, grabbing your waist and pounding up into you, whimpering.
He suddenly stood, taking you with him and laying you on the rug. He grabbed your chin, and tilted your head to make you stare at him until you were staring into his eyes.
‘When you’re here with me, you’re mine. Say it,’ he whispered in your ear, licking the lobe.
You did as you were told, the sudden shift in demeanour turning you on beyond belief. He slid into your pussy again roling his hips. He pawed at your tits, pressing you into the floor.
‘Do you think those men know you like it rough? Do you think they know exactly. How. To. Rub this little clit of yours,’ he purred, punctuating each word with a circle of his thumb on your pussy as he fucked you.
You squeezed around him and screamed, feeling the pressure building inside you.
‘Hold it baby. Come on. Who does this pussy belong to?’
‘You, Michael? Noone else, fuckk! You’re gonna make me cum,’
He gave you a look which said, ‘don't you dare’, surprise and pleasure taking over his face as you exploded suddenly, your pussy squirting all over him, soaking the faint hairs at his pelvis.
‘Told you to hold it. You’re lucky I'm a gentleman and I’ll make you cum again instead of working you up and leaving it as punishment,’ he smirked against your neck, his fingers finding your swollen overworked clit.
He flipped you over onto hands and knees and thrust into you as hard as he could, balls slapping against you deliciously. He laid you on your stomach and put his weight on you as he fucked you from behind.
Fat tears streamed down your face, control completely gone as Michael fucked you towards your 3rd orgasm. You babbled and moaned incoherently, vision blurry and your throat burning from sobbing.
‘Baby. Gonna cum inside you. Ngh– is that alright?’
You nodded weakly, moaning like a slut as he barrelled towards his climax. He whimpered and stiffened and his release flooded your pussy, triggering your orgasm, causing you to clench around him and milk his dick dry.
He slid out of you and you both lay there on your rug, fancy clothes soiled and strewn around, the smell of sex thick in the air. You turned your head to find him already staring at you. He shot you that signature grin.
‘Im not letting you go.’
[hope you enjoyyyy i find jealousy so difficult but i hope u like it. Also not proofread😭]
can you please do a smut jackie jackson x reader fic 🥹🥹
(theres like none of him 💔💔)
u can decide plott!! :D
'welcome back <3'
jackie jackson x reader
mdni
Jackie's eyes glimmered as he padded into the room, grateful for the moonlight dancing over your features.
He peeled off the suit he always wore for his tours, leaving himself in only his white boxers. A chill swept over his body, his hairs standing on end, but he knew he wouldn’t be cold for long. Slowly, he tiptoed over to his side of the bed, falling into a trance as he watched your frame rise and fall with slow breaths. His heart swelled at the sight. You looked peaceful, hugging your pillow like a koala, drooling all over it.
He smiled. It had been nearly a month since you’d seen one another. Not a single night had gone by without him picturing what you guys would do on your next date night, or beating his dick desperately to a photo of you. The regular phone calls felt like one long edging session, your voice constantly teasing him. He was going to fuck you so damn good tonight.
Guilt washed over him briefly at the thought of waking you for such a selfish reason, but Jackie didn’t feel sorry for wanting to be selfish, just for once. He peeled the duvet off of you before crawling in. You felt the dip in the mattress, and he watched as you rolled over onto your back and inhaled deeply. His eyes fell to your chest as he rose and fell, your satin nightshirt pouring over your breasts, your nipples poking through hardened by the cool breeze. Heat shot through him, pooling in his stomach, at the knowledge of you not sleeping with a bra on.
He smiled softly as you stirred. His arm wrapped around you, slowly dragging you into him, as your eyes slowly opened. A gasp left your lips when you noticed his scent enveloping you and the hazy figure morphing into his handsome face in the moonlight.
“Jackie! You’re back home!” you half-whispered, moving so that you could wrap your arms around his neck. His other arm fully encompassed you, his large hand resting on your shoulder as he hugged you close to his body. Your lips met in a lazy, loving kiss, overwhelmed with joy at the reunion. His tongue brushed against yours. You knew exactly what he wanted, it almost always was in the cards whenever he returned home.
“I couldn’t just leave my baby all alone,” his lips hovered over yours, and you shuddered when you inhaled his scent,
“I missed you so bad,” you whispered as you broke the kiss.
“I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart," he smiled, grabbing your hips and pressing him against you. You could feel his bulge through his boxers. You moaned when he ground his pelvis into you.
Rolling you over onto your back, his large hand roamed your body, lips attached to your neck, sucking and moaning loudly as he marked your skin. He let out an appreciative sound when you tipped your head back, baring the column of your throat to him, his hand reaching down to pull on your damp underwear. The heat in your gut stirring, you quickly kicked them off.
“I’ve missed you so bad,’ he repeated your words as he breathed against your throat, leaving hot kisses in his path. He licked and nibbled the sensitive skin as your thighs pressed against each other, a futile attempt to quell the fire building in your loins. He laughed, holding onto your hips as his lips descended once more. He gave your nipple a bite before moving even lower again, across the expanse of your tummy and lower. You spread your legs, your pussy glistening in the moonlight, and he grabbed your hips hungrily.
Laying his tongue flat against your pussy, he licked upwards, softly at first, then harder and with more purpose. Sparks shot through you as you moaned loudly, your head falling back as your fingers played with his hair.
“Oh, you are delicious,” he hummed with a grin before licking another stripe up you. Breathless whimpers escaped your lips as he began to lick more fervently, poking and prodding at your pussy as he opened you up. Writhing beneath him, you couldn’t stop the shudders that overtook you, legs bending and unbending as your toes curled. Jackie had become experienced in pleasuring you over the years, and knew exactly what to do. And when his tongue swirled around your clit before sucking on it, you nearly came as your head fell back into the pillow.
Chuckling, Jackie continued, slurping and lapping up the slick wetness that poured out of you. The way his tongue darted back and forth against your sensitive clit already had you close, not to mention the pussydrunk look on his face and the uninhibited groans that escaped him as he devoured you.
And then he did it – he sucked on your clit and caressedit with his mouth, making you see stars. You came undone suddenly, your back arching you seized. Jackie’s hot mouth still worked your clit as the pleasure slowly subsided. You were boneless, melting into the bed. He was silent, simply staring at you fighting the aftershocks of your orgasm. His eyes were barely visible in the dark room but they made you shy.
You moved to push him onto the bed on his back so you could suck him off, but he put a hand on your arm to stop you. Your brows furrowed in confusion, feeling his hard cock against you still.
“I wanted to return the favour, Jackie,” you frowned.
“That can wait, baby. At this moment in time…” he paused to lean down and lick a wet stripe up your neck, “I wanna make it up to you. For leaving my poor baby all alone.” His voice was gravelly as he nipped at his fresh hickeys. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against his body. You gasped when his dick pressed against you, rhythmically to the motion of his hips, stroking your soaked core. You leaned into the sensation and whimpered, lust growing deep inside of you. He licked wet kisses across your neck and your jaw as you reached down and curled your soft hands around his hard cock. You both fell into ecstasy when you rubbed the tip against your sloppy pussy. You both moaned, swallowing each other's desperate sounds as you made out. You gathered enough stability to reach down and guide his cock into you. When the head slipped past your tight entrance, Jackie allowed himself to sink into you completely, bottoming out with a satisfied moan.
You had missed this so much. It felt like years since you had his cock filling you up and splitting you in half. You fit together incredibly well, you noticed.
“I missed you,” Jackie breathed out as his lips brushed your ear, his hips stuttering as he pushed into you impossibly deeper.
“You’re the only one for me. We fit together perfectly,” he echoed your thoughts with a content sigh, slowly pulling back until he was almost out. Relaxing completely, you allowed the pleasure to cover you as he slowly sank back into you, basking in the sensation of your pussy clenching around him.
You allowed your hands to wander across his broad shoulders as he made love to you. He was so gentle, so doting his love for you seeping out of every movement he made, every roll of hips, every kiss to your ear. He took his time with you, tearing you apart in the best way. It almost felt as though you became one. You kissed his neck as he rocked into you, causing him to shudder with pleasure and moan into your ear.
“You’re made for me,” Jackie was as fucked out as you were. You were drenched, and each thrust was met with no resistance just slippery pleasure
“You’re perfect,” you giggled. “You’re so sexy and sweet to me,”
With every hour that went by, you never parted, sweaty and drunk in love. Countless orgasms later, you both fell into a deep slumber, every minute was worth it.
[anon i hope u see this LOL, and enjoyyyyy. also i did not know what personality to give him, but he seems super cute so]
Jealous mike seeing Jackie be a little too playful with reader🚶🏾♀️
-🪷
mdni
Michael was not jealous. He just hated when his best friend paid more attention to other people. Like his brothers for instance. and when it was happening directly in front of him.
You and Michael had been close friends for a few years, and you had a lot in common. You cared for him. You understood him. But one thing you apparently didn't understand was that he was hopelessly, pathetically, irrevocably infatuated with you.
Michael was sitting in a beanbag in the living room of Hayvenhurst, notepad in hand and pen tapping against his knee as he casually brainstormed. You were cosied up next to Jackie, his brother, as he showed you how to play pool in the far end of the room.
Yes, it’s only a gamel. And sure, Michael was generally happy that you and his family got along so well. But fuck…
Michael had every right to be angry. You were playing pool and dancing to disco music with his own brother. It had been happening more often too. Every time you came over, without fail, Jackie somehow got a substantial amount of alone time with you, more than any of the other brothers, including Michael. This was not on.
Before he could get too heated, he calmed himself down. You and Michael flirted here and there, and were similar in every aspect. But at the end of the day, you were just friends. And you clearly enjoyed being around his brothers. Surely, he was just overreacting. He put on a smile as he bounced over to the pool table just as you and Jackie finished up, challenging one of his other brothers to a game.
You could sense something was up. Michael was never very good at hiding his feelings, especially not from you. The small crease that formed between his brows, the tight smile, the clench of his jaw. You were about to pipe up when you felt a strong arm around your waist.
Jackie Jackson looked down at you with a handsome smile on his face.
‘Hey… sit down lets talk,’ he pulled you down to sit on the plush sofa with him. Flustered, you slid down next to him. Damn, he really was handsome, especially close up.
‘Look. I wanna be honest. I am so happy that you’re such a good friend to Michael. God knows he needs one. And i dont know if this is overstepping, but i figured since you're just friends its okay…’ he took a deep breath.
‘You’re beautiful. And smart and funny,’ he smiled nervously. ‘I’d love to take you out sometime.’
This instantly broke out Michael out of the competitive trance he was in while playing with his brother. Jackie was dead. Michael was going to kill him.
He could see the shock on your face, your mouth just opening and closing. He didn't miss the flustered, flattered look on your face.
Before you could give an answer, Michael was next to you both.
‘Look at the time, dang it's late. Cmon I’ll take you home,’ he said, the grit in his voice barely concealed.
It was true, it was getting late. You yielded, with a sincere apologetic smile at Jackie, and grabbed your bag. As Michael ushered you out of the back door, you both noticed the flirty wink Jackie gave you, and Michael’s grasp on your shoulder tightened ever so slightly.
‘Michael, what's wrong. You’re being weird.’
‘Everything’s fine,’ he said sharply, surprising you with the lack of his usual soft tone.
You shrank a little at his reaction, pressing your lips together as you took the back route out of the mansion. The walk to your place was silent, as always, except this time it wasn't a tired, content silence after a fun day. It was tense and unnerving.
Michael was racked with guilt at his almost-outburst. He had no right to react like that and now he couldn’t even apologise like a normal person? Pathetic, he mentally chastised himself. Every few minutes he’d remember the flustered look on your face when Jackie asked you out and his blood began boiling all over again.
You got to your place finally. You were a little tense, not wanting Michael to come inside like he normally does. He’d met your family, but judging from his perpetually clenched jaw, it wouldn’t be a typical cute get together if they ambushed him tonight. Relief floods you when you saw the note on the fridge saying they went to a movie, and would be back later. You turned to Michael.
‘Now that we’re in the comfort of my home, do you want to explain yourself?’
‘I…you…’ he put his face in his hands with a groan as he leaned against your kitchen counter. ‘Jackie.’
‘Michael... are you jealous of Jackie?’
‘Don’t say that like I’m in the wrong. He’s being a rat,’
The slight whine in his tone would’ve made you laugh if he wasn’t being so frustrating.
‘So what, I can’t even go on a date now? I thought you respected me, and now you’re policing who I go out with.’
‘He’s my brother! You can’t do that to me,’
‘You didn’t see me throwing a fit every time I found you flirting with a random woman on the telephone. Or discussing the beautiful women you see on tour. I was upset but I didn’t ruin the gathering or be mean. Unlike you,’
‘Why do you care?’ he questioned, his voice slightly raised.
You didn’t answer. You stared at him. It could’ve been seconds… or minutes. The tense silence slowly shifted to a crackling anticipation. The telephone suddenly rang, cutting through the quiet house, the tension dissipating just a touch. With a groan, you walked the few steps over to the hallway and picked up.
‘Hello? It’s me Jackie.. Did you get home saf–’
The voice on the other side of the line was cut off as Michael pressed his lips against yours in a fiery kiss. He didn’t wait for a reaction, just breached your lips in one hot harsh motion. You placed the receiver down just as his large hand came up to squeeze your ass and you gasped against him.
‘Michael?’
He shut you up with another burning kiss, pressing you against the wall, pinning your arms above you as he nipped at your neck.
‘Enjoying this, huh? Or you imagining someone else?’
He sucked at your collarbone, the sight of the marks and the sound of your breathless moans making his dick stiffen in his pants.
‘Wanted this for ages, Michael,’ you blurted out.
‘Yeah? Didn't seem like that earlier,’ he whispered. ‘Earlier… it seemed like you wanted to fuck my older brother.’
‘Only you…’ you whined, as your eyes rolled back into your head, his ministrations never once stopping.
His hand found your breast, pinching your nipple through the fabric, rolling it between his fingertips to see your reaction. His tongue brushed against yours, his pride flaring when you allowed him to easily dominate the kiss.
He stripped you down as fast as he could, sinking to his knees. He pressed his nose into your centre, inhaling deeply. The sight was so erotic, your knees buckled slightly, only for him to stabilize you. He massaged up and down your thighs as he began to devour you. The flat of his tongue licked from your hole to your clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue to watch you spasm.
‘That’s what I’m talking about baby, c'mon say my name’
You chanted his name like a mantra, his dick hardening impossibly with each repetition. You were close, he could feel it coming. He sucked at your clit with fervour, the vibrations from his needy moans spurring you on. He looked up at you, and that was all you needed for that tight knot in your pelvis to explode. After what seemed like forever, you stared at him, hot and horny, as the waves of pleasure began to subside.
‘I’m not done, I hope you know,’ he said softly, ‘is that alright with you?’
The look in your eyes told him everything he needed to know before the desperate nod even came. He contemplated taking you right there against the wall, but even though the flames of jealousy were still flicking around inside him, he knew you probably wouldn’t be comfortable. He wanted you to be as cozy as possible when he fucked your brains out.
After carrying you to your bedroom, the one covered in posters and vinyls, he took his boxers off and placed you on the bed with a little more force than necessary. When he climbed over you, a hand found purchase on your waist and another on your tit as he sucked on your nipples.
You looked cockdrunk already and he hadn’t even entered you. Would you have looked this good for Jackie if you’d gone through with it? He doubted that.
Pumping his dick a few times, he slapped it on your clit. The look on your face was addicting but he couldn’t wait any longer. He guided your breathing as he bottomed out, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and peppering kisses all over your face to get you to relax. Noticing your restlessness, he began to move, starting with slow thrusts that quickly became hard deep slams. He rose off you slightly, watching the spot where you connected, the sinful squelching sounds making his stomach flip and cock twitch.
He moaned uncharacteristically loudly, in time with his thrusts, whispering unintelligibly under his breath as he watched you through half lidded eyes. The sound of him losing his mind, combined with the sensation of his tip pressing against your g spot was enough to send your orgasm barrelling towards you.
He rubbed his thumb in circles round your clit, his gaze never leaving you. The furrowed brow look he gave you signalled that he was close, and you nodded feverishly. Your back arched when you went over the edge, his cock still slamming into you until you felt his warm release flooding you, the feeling setting you off again.
When you both came down from your high, you stared at each other. This would definitely become a regular thing.
‘I bet Jackie could never,’ he whispered into your hair, his voice laced with amusement.
[GUYSS idk why when i begin writing the smut i suddenly don't know how to pace anything LOLL]
‘No more after this,’ you insisted as you were led through the backstage corridors of the hall. You stifled your giggles as your lover hastily locked the door of the small dressing room he dragged you into.
‘You are such a tease,’ he whispered.
‘Maybe you’re just a horny freak,’ you replied.
Michael responded with a sharp bite to your shoulder, effectively silencing you.
‘It’s just human nature, baby, don’t be mean.”
You were about to laugh at his reference, but your breath caught in your throat when he looked at you with those doe eyes that made you fall apart. For a moment you were frozen before the reality of the situation set in again.
‘Michael hurryy. There's not much time’
‘They can wait.’
You rolled your eyes, and held back your groans as he sucked at your throat, your hands clawing at his trousers. He undressed you first though, stripping you down to just panties, revelling in the sight of your body. You looked absolutely sinful.
‘Bend over for me.’
The unfamiliar tone in his voice took you by surprise but you obeyed. You wanted him hard and you wanted him now. Just to tease him some more, you tugged your thong further up. You smirked at his needy groan from behind you, but your amusement was cut short when you felt a sharp smack on your ass. You gasped and looked back at him, and the expression on his face was a mixture of wide eyed shock and dirty hot lust.
‘Sorry– I didn't mean–’
You cut him off, ‘No. It's good.’
You shared a moment of understanding, before he did it again, a stinging slap to your bare ass. While you were reeling from the sensation, he reached over and pinched your hardened nipple. The moan that ripped out of you was pornographic, and your body betrayed you further with a violent jerk when his thumb brushed the dampened gusset of your underwear, applying a light pressure to your clit through the fabric. When you looked over your shoulder, there was an almost imperceptible smile on his face as he teased you, a sort of wonder at how shameless you got for him.
‘Fuck me.’ you hissed, impatient, hot and wet.
‘Easy. It’s taking a while for me to get hard,’
‘Michael… stop.’ you whined, slightly offended.
‘I’m just playing, baby, you know I'm always horny for you. You sure you ready for me?’
With a frustrated groan, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You stood up straight and turned to face him, finding him staring at you wide eyed and hungry. You bit your lip, grabbing the collar of his open shirt and slamming him to the nearby wall.
His eyes widened, burning with hardly concealed lust.
‘What the hell…’ he managed, almost inaudible.
You tore off his trousers, mouth watering at the bulge tenting his boxers. He stared down at you, his shallow breaths the only sound in the small room. You took off your panties and shoved them in his mouth, with a sadistic grin on your face.
‘Since you wanna be annoying,’ you began. ‘I think I’ll take over, is that okay with you Michael?’
Satisfied at his muffled half-moan, you grab his throat, applying a light yet maddening pressure designed to make him lose his mind.
‘Baby please…’
You freed his cock, throbbing and wet with precum. Stroking it languidly, you licked and nipped at his throat, relishing in the taste of sweat and sex. You drop to your knees, taking the whole thing into your mouth. You felt the heavy weight of it on your tongue. You could sense him holding back and you loved that he was letting you take the lead.
He played with your hair as you throated him, parting it absentmindedly as you sucked him off. Just as he was about to cum, you felt him twitch and moved off of him, saliva and precum all over your mouth. The sight was disgusting. It was fucking hot.
‘I’m gonna ride you. Is that alright with you?’
He looked almost drunk, his eyes half lidded and hazy with desire as he nodded and whimpered around your thong stuffed in his mouth. You were in awe at how even his muffled moans were beautifully melodic.
‘You're beautiful,’ you whispered, stroking his face, your fingers running along the ridges of his features.
For a moment you forgot you were trying to have a quickie in a dressing room, both your expressions filled with emotion. You continued to stroke him, twisting your palm around his shaft, rubbing your thumb over his tip just to watch him shudder with pleasure. You nodded at the ground and he slid down the wall obediently, leaning on it, cock standing firmly up.
You lowered your dripping pussy onto him, grasping his shaft to rub the head against your clit messily. His moans spurred you on and you slowly slid down onto him. His hands flew to your hips when you sheathed him, clenching around him tightly. The sight of your hole taking him in completely was mesmerising. He slapped your ass, breaking you out of your small spell. Your gaze shot up to stare him down into submission again, but the handsome smirk on his face as he pulled the panties out of his mouth was enough to make your cheeks heat up. He was Michael Jackson after all.
You crushed your lips to his as you began to move, grinding and bouncing on his dick. He moaned into your mouth and you reciprocated. You rubbed your clit trying to get off, before he replaced your fingers with his. He petted your bush a few times before continuing to stimulate your clit, smiling lazily when you gave him an incredulous look, both your eyes rolling back as you clenched around him again.
‘Gonna cum,’ he softly warned you.
Just as white hot pleasure exploded in your pelvis, you rose off him, and thick spurts of cum stained your skin. Slumped forward against him, you pinch his arm playfully.
‘Not letting you off for stroking my pubes like a cat by the way,’ you reminded him.
A hearty laugh left his chest, and he stroked your back.
‘You know I love animals.’
‘Michael!’ you swatted at him, and he took it with a breathless laugh.
A sharp knock to the dressing room door interrupted your post-orgasm bliss. Michael quickly tried to clean you down with a makeup wipe, pulling his clothes back on and slipping out of the room, but not before a quick kiss to your hand and a whispered promise that this definitely wasn’t the last time.
my first time writing in yearsssss :D what do you thinkkk
Outside, the streets of Manhattan pulsed with their usual midnight heartbeat; restless and unruly. Car horns bleated impatiently in the distance, mingling with the bark of taxi drivers and the faint echo of laughter drifting up from the sidewalk far below. Neon signs flickered against rain-speckled windows, casting brief shards of electric color across the tall glass panes of the penthouse. But up here, above it all, the world was hushed; sealed off by floor-to-ceiling windows and velvet drapes drawn halfway shut.
Inside the penthouse, only the low crackle of the fireplace broke the silence, its flames dancing amber and gold across the room's polished mahogany bookshelves. A vintage record player sat in the corner, spinning a slow, syrupy jazz tune that curled through the warm air like smoke; something old, something that suited nights like this.
You were tucked into the corner of the private library, curled on an oversized velvet lounge chair that swallowed you whole. An apricot satin nightgown clung to your freshly washed skin; the delicate fabric glowed softly in the firelight, slipping off one shoulder as if coaxed by the warmth. Damp strands of your hair brushed your collarbone, carrying the faint scent of your favorite shampoo and the rich sweetness of shea butter and coconut oil that gleamed over your arms and legs, catching every flicker of the fire.
A pair of slender black reading glasses perched precariously on the bridge of your nose, lenses flashing each time you lifted your gaze to turn a page. The book resting against your thighs was one of those novels; the kind with pages that whispered secrets and fantasies into the quietest corners of the night. This one, though, was special: a gift from Michael, wrapped in silk and handed to you on your last birthday with that knowing glint in his eyes that made your pulse skip.
Tonight, you had finally cracked it open, letting your fingertips drift over the finely embossed cover before sinking into the story. The words sprawled across the pages like warm hands over your skin, pulling soft gasps and small, secret smiles from your parted lips.
In your free hand, you held a heavy crystal tumbler of Crown Royal, the gold-rimmed glass chilled with a clink of slowly melting ice. Each sip slid smooth and smoky over your tongue, mingling with the warmth coiling low in your belly as you read one steamy passage after another. The ruby lacquer on your nails glowed as you traced the rim of the glass, then drummed it idly against the side, punctuating the soft, breathless phrases you murmured aloud; tasting the words and the whisky together.
And through it all, a question lingered at the blurred edges of your mind, teasing you with a slow, decadent pull that made you squirm deeper into the plush cushions: Had Michael really read the back cover before he chose this? Or had he stood there in that hushed corner of the bookstore, one hand buried in his pocket while his eyes drifted over the swirling, gold-inked title; picturing you exactly as you were now: legs folded up under you, mouth slightly open, breath catching on every forbidden word, your skin glowing slick and warm in the hush of your private library while the city outside raged on without you.
The thought made heat prickle across the back of your neck, trickling down your spine in a slow, sinuous curl. Instinctively, you shifted against the overstuffed cushion, the fabric sighing beneath your thighs as the satin hem of your nightgown slipped even higher, revealing the gleam of shea-buttered skin and the soft indent of your hipbone. The record player crackled softly in the background; a saxophone moaning low as if it, too, knew what secrets your pages held.
Your lashes lowered behind the black frames perched on your nose as you dipped your head back into the pages. Your lips parted, moving silently at first; then forming the words in a hushed, breathy whisper that felt like a confession to the dark wood and flickering firelight:
"His hands traced up her sides, the palm of his hands palming her breasts, thumbs brushing over her peaks before taking them between his lips, his eyes locked on hers, making her watch; watch his lips, his tongue, the way his saliva slicked over her hardened peaks..."
Your throat tightened around the words, a warm ache pooling low in your belly. One hand gripped the heavy crystal glass a little tighter, the melting ice clinking against the rim as you tilted it to your lips. The Crown Royal kissed your tongue again; smoky and sharp, a perfect counter to the heat blooming under your nightgown.
You squeezed your thighs together, a soft exhale slipping free as you read on; eyes flicking hungrily over the next lines, tracing how he moved inside her, how her nails raked desperate red crescents into his back, how her body arched and twisted and begged under the weight of him.
A quiet, wicked little laugh purred in your throat. You wet your lips, savoring the last drop of the whisky as you whispered to the empty room, "Lucky girl..."; the words dancing off your tongue like an invitation.
You tipped the glass back, drained it, then drew the back of your hand across your mouth, leaving a faint trace of warmth on your skin. With a soft sigh, you slipped the book closed, its pages still humming with secrets you weren't quite done with yet.
Pushing yourself up from the lounge, you let your nightgown fall a little more as you stood; a loose, silky brush against your thighs as you bent to gather your empty glass. The air kissed the sheen of coconut oil on your legs as you padded barefoot out of the library, the fireplace's glow slipping off your shoulders the moment you stepped into the main room.
The city lights bled through the tall windows, shimmering against the glass shelves of the mini bar. You set the glass down carefully, your fingertips lingering on the cold marble counter as you reached for the decanter, the gold cap gleaming in the dim light. You poured slowly ; Crown Royal streaming in a rich amber ribbon, catching little glints of firelight as it filled your glass once more.
Your mind, though, stayed curled back in that plush chair, tangled in the breathless words, the weight of his imaginary touch, the delicious knowledge that Michael ; your Michael ; had chosen that story for you. Whether he'd read every page or not didn't matter now. The thought of him picturing you like this was enough. And as the record spun on and the city roared outside, you lifted your refilled glass, brushed your thumb along its golden rim, and let a slow, secret smile curve your lips ; already hungry to slip back into that wicked story waiting for you in the next room.
As you stood at the bar, the soft clink of the gold-rimmed glass in your hand, the library's warmth still clinging to your skin, you heard the faint turn of a key at the door. A quiet click, the hush of hinges swinging open ; and then there he was.
Michael stepped inside like the night itself had followed him in ; tall, broad shoulders tense beneath the spill of his loose black curls. The strands framed his face in a disheveled halo, a few rebellious locks brushing against the dark sweep of his lashes. He pushed the door closed behind him with the slow, deliberate care of a man carrying too many thoughts in his head ; the latch falling into place with a muted finality.
In the low glow of the penthouse lights, you could see the wear carved into his eyes: heavy-lidded and rimmed faintly red, exhaustion pulling at the edges of his mouth. The black blazer draped over his forearm was creased, his crimson button-down undone at the collar, showing a teasing sliver of his throat ; warm skin kissed by the glint of a fine gold chain that disappeared beneath the rumpled fabric.
He tossed his keys onto the side table with a soft metallic clatter, shrugging off the blazer in a single motion, careful but impatient. When his eyes finally rose to find you standing there by the marble bar ; nightgown hitched up just enough to show the sheen of your thighs, your glasses perched on the bridge of your nose, the glass of Crown Royal held delicate in your hand ; something in his tired face softened.
"Hi..." he murmured, voice thick and hoarse at the edges, his lips curling into a faint, weary smile.
You returned it with a slow, warm curve of your own. Pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose with the back of your knuckle, you crossed the few steps to him, bare feet silent against the cool floor. The scent of him hit you first ; the faint trace of cologne and city air clinging to his shirt, the warmth of him cutting through the chill of your drink.
"Hi, baby," you breathed, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to the rough line of his cheekbone. You could feel the subtle prickle of stubble, the way his skin was still cool from the night air. You pulled back just enough to catch his gaze again, tilting your head with a quiet curiosity as you brushed your thumb over the back of his wrist. "Tired?"
A humorless little laugh slipped from his chest as he gave a slow nod, dark eyes flicking from your lips to the whiskey in your hand. "Exhausted," he confessed, voice dropping even softer ; a worn thread of sound meant only for you. His fingers brushed against yours as he set the blazer beside his keys, then drifted to the buttons at his chest, fumbling them open one by one with a deliberate slowness. His eyes never quite left yours, though ; half-hidden by the tumble of curls that fell forward when he ducked his head.
"Were you waiting up for me?" he asked, the question gentle, a little raw around the edges as his fingertips paused on the last button.
You shrugged one shoulder, your grin curling into something sly. "Kind of. I got... distracted." You lifted the glass slightly, the ice clinking softly. "I finally started that novel you gave me for my birthday." A quiet snicker danced past your lips. "It's... quite something."
A flicker of amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth. He exhaled through his nose ; a soft, tired huff of a laugh as he tugged the last button free, the shirt hanging loose enough now to show the sharp dip of his collarbones and a teasing brush of chest beneath the gold chain. His eyes found yours again, lids half-lowered as a smirk curved his lips. "I figured you'd like it," he murmured, reaching out to gently take the glass from your fingers ; his skin grazing yours, warm and grounding.
He lifted the glass to his mouth, the rim brushing against the faint stubble on his upper lip. His throat bobbed as he swallowed a careful sip ; the sight alone enough to make your breath catch. You watched the way his tongue darted out to catch the stray drop at the corner of his mouth, slow and absent, like it was just for you.
"Mmph," he hummed, savoring the taste before lowering the glass, his gaze locked to yours with that glint ; tired but playful, the man behind the stress peeking through. "How far in are you?" he asked, voice low and conspiratorial, like he was in on some secret only you two shared.
You tilted your head, tapping your finger lightly against the empty side of the glass. "Started this morning," you confessed, unable to fight the heat creeping up your neck. "I'm already on chapter twelve. And some of those scenes..." You paused, a breath of laughter slipping past your lips. "I never would've guessed you'd pick something like that for me."
He just watched you for a heartbeat longer ; eyes steady, dark, glinting faintly in the warm light. Then that lazy smile curved his mouth again, softer this time, touched by something fond and wicked all at once. "I read the back cover and..." He shrugged, handing the glass back into your waiting hands, the weight of it suddenly colder than the heat radiating off him. "I liked the sound of it. Besides..." He tipped his head, curls brushing his cheek, voice dipping into that low, velvet hush only you ever got to hear. "I've seen what you keep hidden in that library."
Your mouth parted to tease him, but before you could, he leaned in ; so close you could smell the faint tang of whisky on his breath, feel the soft scrape of his stubble as he pressed a slow, unhurried kiss to your lips. The kind that said home and later and don't stop reading yet.
When he pulled back, he lingered for a second, forehead brushing yours, his eyes still half-closed as his thumb ghosted across your jaw. "I'm gonna shower and change," he murmured against your mouth, the words more felt than heard.
Then he slipped past you, silent as a shadow despite the heaviness in his bones, his feet whispering over the polished floor. The loose edges of his shirt brushed his sides, the fabric fluttering with each step and giving you fleeting glimpses of warm skin and the thin gold chain that caught the low light like a secret promise. A few dark curls tumbled over his brow, half-shielding the tired sharpness of his eyes as he cast you one last look over his shoulder ; soft, half-lidded, a wordless hush that said wait for me ; before disappearing down the hallway and into the hush of the master bedroom.
You stayed frozen there for a heartbeat longer, the cool rim of the whiskey glass pressing against your lower lip, its chill at odds with the flush climbing your throat. The taste of his kiss lingered ; the faint warmth of his breath, the subtle scrape of stubble that still tingled at the corner of your mouth.
Slowly, you picked the glass up with a soft clink, the melting ice chiming like tiny bells. You reached for the bottle of Crown Royal ; its weight heavy, cool, and promising in your hand ; and padded back across the vast hush of the penthouse. Each step made the satin hem of your nightgown whisper against your thighs, a soft brush of silk on warm skin that left a trail of goosebumps behind.
The library welcomed you back like an old lover ; the crackling fireplace sighing low, the vintage record still spinning its lazy jazz, saxophone moaning in the background like it, too, was caught up in your private confession. You placed the bottle gently on the little side table beside your lounge chair, the glass set right next to it. The pages of the novel waited, splayed open where you'd left them ; the spine cracked wide like an invitation, words burning softly under your fingertips.
You lowered yourself back into the plush velvet cushions, sinking until they seemed to cradle you. The book fell open on your lap as you adjusted your reading glasses, pushing them up your nose with the tip of a slick finger. You drew in a breath ; steadying yourself ; then let your eyes drift over the words you'd barely dared to speak aloud before.
Your voice slipped into the room in a breathy hush, just loud enough to be heard over the fireplace's crackle:
"Taking me so well, my love..." you read, your voice catching on the my love, like it was meant for you alone. "He said as he slowly thrusted his length in and out of her warmth, her walls still clenching tight around his thick member, the veins along his shaft pulsing with a desperate, aching need as he reached for the candle beside them..."
Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, breath hitching as you turned the page with trembling fingers.
You paused, the words dancing hot behind your eyelids. A small sound slipped past your lips ; something between a sigh and a quiet curse. You bit down gently on your lower lip, tasting faint traces of whiskey there, the faintest salt of your skin. Then you forced your eyes back down to the page.
"He carefully blew out the flame, still buried deep within her, moving with slow, deliberate thrusts that made her whimper ; the red wax dripping from the candle's tip as he tilted it forward, letting it spill in a slow, molten line over her belly, down her core, and across the peaks of her breasts, the heat making her arch beneath him..."
You let the book drop slightly, your pulse a thunder in your throat, your thighs pressing tighter together beneath the satin draped loosely across them. You murmured it to the empty room anyway ; like a confessional whispered only to the fire and the whisky:
"Jesus Christ..." you breathed out, your voice so soft it barely stirred the air. The vividness of it all flickered behind your eyes ; the slick heat, the wax, the low growl of a man's voice promising more, more, don't stop.
Your hand found the cold glass again, fingertips curling around the heavy crystal, the melting ice kissing your knuckles as you raised it to your lips. The whiskey slipped across your tongue ; sharp, smoky, its bite almost enough to steady the fluttering heat twisting low in your belly. Almost.
You exhaled shakily, the words dragging you back in as your gaze dropped to the page once more:
"He poured it carefully down the valley of her body, then tipped it over himself ; crimson wax sliding down the ridges of his hard chest, over the swell of his abs, dripping lower until it mingled with the place where he stretched her open and full, his length throbbing with a raw, relentless hunger, so close to spilling but refusing ; holding it, savoring it, refusing to stop... not now... not ever..."
A small, strangled sound slipped out of you ; half gasp, half helpless, breathless laugh ; a soft confession that the shadows around you gladly swallowed whole. The air in the library felt heavier now, thick with firelight and words you'd let crawl under your skin. You shifted again, the smooth satin of your nightgown sliding against your warm, shea-buttered thighs as you crossed one leg tightly over the other, pressing down until you could feel your pulse there ; a steady, insistent throb that matched the ache blooming low in your belly.
You tipped your head back, hair spilling over the lounge's plush cushion, the fire's glow catching your throat and collarbones, gilding them in molten gold. The warmth of it only deepened the heat simmering beneath your skin, the kind that made your breath come a little too fast, too shallow.
"God... she's too lucky," you murmured to the flickering fireplace ; your voice cracked with a grin you could feel tugging at your lips, sharp and breathless, half disbelieving at just how deeply the words had sunk into you.
You lifted the heavy glass again, your fingertips slippery against the cold crystal. You tipped it to your lips, letting the last swirl of Crown Royal roll over your tongue ; smoky, sweet, and burning enough to make your eyes flutter closed for a heartbeat. The warmth pooled low in your belly, mingling with the pulse already hammering between your thighs, softening the sharp edges of the scene your mind refused to release.
Your lashes lifted, heavy, as you let your gaze fall back to the open book. The fire popped behind you, a slow crackle that filled the space between your heartbeat and the next word. You let your eyes trace the lines, the ink almost pulsing under your stare as the story wrapped itself tight around you once more.
You read aloud, your voice slipping into the hush like silk:
"His body pressed against hers, moving within her ; thrusting deep, pulling back, every inch slicked in her warmth. The sound of her moans poured sweet and high into his ear, filling the room ; echoing through the mansion like music only they could hear. His teeth grazed the column of her throat, teasing her skin before he sank them in ; a sharp bite, a gasp, a sting that made her arch and beg for more..."
Your lips parted on the last word. A soft exhale shivered through you, your chest rising and falling as you stared at the page ; reading the same wicked line again and again, each time sinking a little deeper into the heat that coiled around your spine. You reached blindly for your glass, desperate for the distraction, the chill of it biting at your palm as you lifted it once more. The whiskey went down smoother this time, your throat used to the burn now ; your body so heated from the inside out that the drink felt like nothing more than another layer of warmth to spread through your veins.
Goosebumps prickled along your arms, down your ribs, while the hair at the nape of your neck lifted under the soft brush of air from the vent overhead. You could almost feel it now ; that imaginary wax poured in slow rivulets over your chest, the heat blooming where it dripped, cooling and warming at once. You squeezed your thighs tighter, the silk of your nightgown caught in the press, clinging to the curve of your hip and the soft skin just beneath.
With a low sigh, you set the empty glass back on the side table ; the crystal clink echoing too loudly in the hush. You adjusted yourself against the lounge seat, shifting until you could tuck your bare feet beneath you, your knees drawn up as the book perched in your lap like a lover's secret.
You pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose, your fingertips trembling just slightly, and picked up where you left off.
"Maestro..." you whispered, testing the name on your tongue before your voice lifted, reading the next line aloud:
"She moaned it softly, almost reverently, as his fangs broke her skin ; his hips rolling deeper, deeper still, the thick length of him hitting that deepest place inside her as he drank. Her legs locked tight around his waist, drawing him in until they were fused together ; the faint hiss of candle wax still warm, sealing them in a heat that bound them skin to skin. Her nails carved down his back in desperate red lines, marking him as hers, as he pulsed inside her ; refusing to stop, refusing to let go..."
Your head fell back once more, the ceiling blurring above you as you exhaled a rough, half-laughing curse. "Fuck..." you breathed out, your voice raw in the hush. The air felt thick in your lungs ; too warm, too heavy, scented with fire and old books and the ghost of Michael's cologne that still lingered in the room like he'd never really left.
With a trembling hand, you slipped the silk ribbon back into the crease of the book, marking the page you knew you'd revisit. You let the cover fall shut with a soft thud that felt too final ; like sealing a door you weren't quite ready to close. You set the novel gently aside on the table, beside the empty glass, the bottle of Crown Royal half-drained, catching the firelight in its amber depths.
You sat there for a moment, the fire crackling soft and slow in the hearth, the mellow hum of the old jazz record drifting through the library like a secret only the walls could keep. Your thighs pressed tight together, the subtle, restless ache building low and warm in your belly ; a slow thrum of want that pulsed hotter with every heartbeat. You could still feel it: the phantom trail of that molten wax down your sternum, the imagined scrape of sharp teeth grazing your neck, the delicious, impossible stretch of a lover born in ink and paper yet crawling all over your skin like he was real ; so real you could almost taste him.
Then the quiet creak of the door gave you away ; Michael stepping in, barefoot on the polished floor, fresh from his shower. He was a dream made flesh in the hush of the room ; wearing nothing but a pair of soft plaid pajama pants that clung low on his hips, the fabric hugging his lean waist just enough to make your mouth water. The cotton shirt meant to cover him hung forgotten in his hand, draped loosely over his knuckles. His chest was bare ; warm brown skin marbled in beautiful constellations of creamy vitiligo that seemed to glow in the flickering light. Droplets of water clung to the ends of his dark curls, stray strands falling into his eyes as he crossed the room with that slow, bone-tired grace that made your chest ache.
He reached you without a word at first, lowering himself beside you on the lounge chair until the cushion dipped under his weight, pulling your gaze greedily to him. He scooped up your bare feet, settling them across his lap ; his palms broad and warm as they cradled your ankles. He smirked at you, dark lashes heavy over those warm, exhausted eyes that still glittered with a teasing softness only you ever got to see.
"I thought you were reading?" he murmured, voice low and thick from sleep and steam, the barest edge of a laugh curling around the words.
You lowered your gaze shyly behind your glasses, the heat on your cheeks giving you away. "I was..." you breathed out, your voice softer than the fire's crackle, "but it was getting to me... it was a lot." Your lips curved in a guilty, breathless grin.
He snorted under his breath, a teasing sound made soft by the affection that always curled behind his words. "Mmhm... and you've been drinking, so of course it's a lot." His thumb drew lazy circles over the arch of your foot, warm and tender, making tiny shivers crawl up the backs of your calves.
You couldn't stop looking at him ; the way the firelight kissed the strong slope of his shoulders, the subtle pull and flex of his forearms when he shifted your legs in his lap, the slow rise and fall of his chest as his gold chain glinted against the scatter of water droplets still clinging to his collarbone. Just sitting there, just watching him ; that wasn't helping the ache simmering low in your belly one bit.
He felt your stare ; he always did. His dark eyes lifted to yours, half-lidded and heavy with that quiet, knowing heat that made your breath catch. His palm slid up the curve of your calf, over your knee, slow and deliberate, fingers pressing in just enough to remind you of what they could do. He gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, like he knew exactly where your mind had wandered. "What is it, pretty girl?" he asked, voice soft enough to hush the room.
Something inside you gave way at that ; your feet slipping off his lap as you shifted forward. The whiskey and the words and the warmth of him blurred together until you couldn't sit still anymore. You rose onto your knees on the cushion, leaning in until your thighs straddled his lap, your nightgown falling like water around you as you settled your weight onto him ; the heat of his bare chest brushing your stomach through the silk.
Your hands found his face without thinking ; your palms warm against the sharp lines of his jaw, thumbs brushing slowly over the soft stubble along his cheeks, tracing the edge of his jawline, the shadow beneath his lower lip. He tilted his head back slightly to look at you ; those tired, sultry eyes sinking deep into yours, heavy-lidded and burning with a hunger that never needed words. His big hands slid from your thighs to your waist, his fingers brushing over the thin fabric of your nightgown ; slow strokes that made the satin rustle and cling to your heated skin.
"What do you want, baby?" he murmured, that wicked, knowing tease threading through the softness of his voice, his mouth tipping up at one corner ; because he already knew the answer. He always did.
You felt your breath stutter as you settled fully on his lap, the warmth of him pressed firm between your thighs. One thumb traced over the lush curve of his bottom lip, the other brushing slowly over the cleft of his chin, feeling the small dip beneath your fingertip. His eyes fluttered shut for a heartbeat at the touch ; lashes brushing his cheeks before they lifted again, locking you in place with that low, molten stare.
"I want you..." you whispered, the words slipping out like a prayer ; soft and raw and honest. Your pulse thundered in your ears as you felt the heat of his breath against the pad of your thumb.
A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest ; warm, dark, and edged with that deep, endless tenderness he saved just for you. "You can always have me, beautiful," he murmured, his hands sliding lower over the swell of your hips, squeezing them gently as if to anchor you right there, flush against him. "You know that..." His voice dropped into something softer ; a vow pressed into the hush of the room. "I love you."
Your lips parted, your thumb brushing along his lip as he spoke, your other hand cupping his jaw tighter, as if you could pull those words deeper into you. "I love you too..." you breathed, voice trembling just enough to give you away.
He smiled, the curve of his mouth soft and lazy ; and then he dipped forward, kissing the pad of your thumb so tenderly it made your stomach flip. But he didn't stop there ; his lips parted, catching your thumb gently, drawing it past his teeth until the warmth of his mouth wrapped around it. His tongue flicked slow and deliberate over the sensitive tip, a lazy, sinful pull that made your breath catch in your throat.
His eyes stayed locked on yours ; those low, tired, wickedly soft eyes turned molten beneath the damp tangle of curls falling across his forehead. They glinted in the firelight, catching the flicker of the flames behind you like they were smoldering from the inside out. Your chest pressed flush to his as it rose and fell in short, shivery stutters ; each shallow breath ghosting against his lips as his tongue dragged slow, deliberate circles around your thumb. The wet heat of his mouth made your spine arch, a soft, helpless ache tightening between your thighs as your knees squeezed his hips a little closer.
When he finally let your thumb slip free, the pad of it damp, your heartbeat thrummed so loud in your ears you could barely hear the crackle of the fireplace behind you. You held his gaze a moment longer ; that dark, lazy, all-knowing stare ; before you brought that same thumb to your own mouth, parting your lips to draw it in slow. The tip of your tongue flicked over the taste of him, the faint warmth lingering on your skin as you sucked it deeper, your eyes never leaving his.
Michael's breath hitched, his lips parting just slightly ; pink and soft and wet in the fire's glow. His eyes dropped to your mouth, dark lashes sweeping low as he watched your tongue tease your own thumb like you were tasting something forbidden. A low, rough sound crawled up his throat. "So nasty..." he murmured, voice soft but edged with a spark that made your toes curl against his thighs. His eyes flicked back to yours ; heavy, dark, pupils wide. You could feel the heat rolling off him in waves.
Then he reached up, slow and deliberate, slipping his fingers around the delicate frame of your reading glasses. He tugged them off with gentle care, tossing them aside on the cushion. His large palm found the back of your head, fingers weaving into your damp hair as he tugged you closer. When his mouth finally met yours, it was slow at first ; a deep, savoring press that tasted like whiskey and want, soft lips parting yours open until you gave him everything.
His other hand slipped up the side of your neck, strong fingers cradling your jaw as he angled your head, deepening the kiss until your breath stuttered out in a quiet gasp. His tongue brushed yours ; a teasing, sin-slick slide that made your pulse pound harder. His thumb traced the curve of your throat, brushing over the rapid flutter of your pulse point, grounding you in that hush where only the fire dared to crackle.
A low growl rumbled deep in his chest when you rocked your hips, pressing yourself closer against the thick warmth growing beneath the soft fabric of his pajama pants. His hand on your hip squeezed tight enough to make you whimper into his mouth ; the sound swallowed by the wicked tangle of his tongue.
He pulled back just enough for his lips to hover over yours ; his breath brushing your mouth in short, heated bursts as his soft chuckle vibrated through your chest. "I love the way you respond to me," he murmured, voice hoarse and sweet with mischief. Before you could answer, he caught your lips again ; this time harder, deeper, tasting you like he was starving for it.
His palm slipped down, brushing over the side of your throat before drifting lower ; fingertips grazing the swell of your breast through the thin satin of your nightgown. You gasped softly against his lips, your nails dragging lightly over the slope of his bare shoulders, feeling the heat of his skin, the slight dampness where the shower droplets hadn't fully dried.
You slid your mouth down to his bottom lip, catching it gently between your teeth. You sucked on it slow, feeling the tremor that ran through him when you tugged, letting it slip free with a soft, wet pop that made both of you pause ; your breath ragged, eyes locked.
A quiet groan crawled out of him, his jaw flexing beneath your fingers. His hands slipped from your waist to the curve of your behind, big palms spreading wide as he gripped you tight, pulling you flush against the hard heat pressing insistently through his pajama pants. The squeeze made you gasp ; a soft, startled moan bubbling from your lips as your palm flattened over the strong, warm plane of his chest, feeling the steady pound of his heartbeat under your touch.
"Michael..." you breathed, the word trembling out on a sigh ; equal parts plea and confession.
"Mmm?" he hummed, his mouth ghosting over the corner of your jaw, the tip of his nose brushing your cheek. You felt the warmth of his smile before he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin just beneath your ear. His mouth drifted lower, kissing down the side of your neck ; slow, open-mouthed kisses that turned wetter, hotter, until his teeth grazed the delicate line of your throat.
A soft gasp escaped you when his tongue flicked over your pulse, a gentle lick followed by the delicious scrape of his teeth as he bit down just enough to send a thrill ripping through you. You threw your head back instinctively, the soft spill of your hair brushing his bare chest, the fireplace painting you both in flickers of gold and shadow.
"Michael... oh..." you whispered, your voice catching when his lips latched onto the crook of your neck. He sucked there, slow and deep, until your skin throbbed under his mouth ; the same wicked trail Maestro carved into that lucky girl's throat in the book laying on the floor with lost pages.
You felt his hands slide up ; fingers brushing the thin straps of your nightgown. He hooked them gently, tugging one down, then the other, his knuckles dragging fire across your heated skin. The silk slipped over your shoulders, a whisper of fabric that pooled at your waist until the top half of you was bare under his hungry stare.
He pulled back just enough to look ; really look ; his warm brown eyes dropping to the soft curve of your breasts, your peaks tight and sensitive from his touch and the chill of the air. A soft sound escaped his throat ; somewhere between a hum and a growl. His big hands slid up, palms warm as they cupped your breasts fully, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples in slow, teasing circles that made your back arch and another quiet gasp fall from your lips.
His mouth drifted lower with a warmth that made your breath catch ; a soft exhale trembling out of you as his lips brushed down your throat, across the delicate hollow at the base of your neck, and over the gentle slope of your collarbone. You felt him pause there for just a heartbeat, the heat of his breath ghosting over your bare skin, before his mouth finally found the soft swell of your breast.
His lips pressed there first ; slow, reverent, almost a hush of worship that made your chest rise into him. Then his mouth opened wider, teeth grazing your sensitive skin with the faintest scrape, a tease that made your fingers curl deeper into the dark curls at the back of his neck. His tongue flicked out ; a slow, lazy stroke that circled your nipple once, twice, tasting you before he drew the peak fully into the heat of his mouth.
A soft gasp tumbled from your lips, spilling into the hush of the private library like a secret. The jazz record spun on in the background, all low brass and whispered percussion, but all you could hear was the soft, wet sound of his mouth ; the way his tongue licked and curled and tugged at you, coaxing your nipple deeper against his teeth. He sucked slow at first, his lips sealing tight, his tongue circling the sensitive peak in deliberate, almost patient strokes that made your thighs tighten around his hips.
His free hand came up, big and warm as it cupped the weight of your other breast ; his thumb brushing teasingly over the neglected peak before he pinched it gently between his thumb and forefinger. He rolled it in slow, careful circles, tugging just enough to send a sharp spark of heat darting through your belly, pooling low and needy between your thighs. Your moans were soft at first ; quiet little whimpers ; but the moment his teeth grazed and tugged, they spilled out sweeter, needier, echoing off the shelves lined with all those forgotten books.
He pulled away with a low, wet pop, the peak of your breast flushed and slick, a thin strand of his saliva catching the firelight as it fell from his lips. He didn't give you a chance to catch your breath ; his mouth shifted to your other breast, his lips warm and wet as he dragged his tongue slowly over your right nipple. He let it rest there for a heartbeat ; just the tip of his tongue flicking quick, sharp lashes across your sensitive skin ; before his lips closed around it and sucked you deeper into his mouth.
He switched his pace with wicked skill ; flicking his tongue in fast, teasing bursts that made your thighs tremble around his hips, then slowing down again, circling the swollen peak with long, languid strokes that left you gasping. He pulled back only to bite down lightly, his teeth grazing the tender flesh in a promise of a sting that never quite hurt ; a tease that only made your breath hitch and your hips roll helplessly in his lap.
Your hands tangled deeper in his hair, tugging just enough to feel him groan low against your chest ; that sound vibrating straight through your skin, down to that molten ache that throbbed hotter every time your hips ground down against the thick, hard heat pressing up through his pajama pants. The thin satin of your nightgown clung to your waist, bunched and rumpled around your hips as you rocked yourself closer to him, seeking the friction your body was begging for.
He lifted his eyes to meet yours; that dark, wicked spark dancing in the warmth of his tired gaze as he sucked slow and deep, letting his teeth scrape one last time before pulling back just enough to speak. His voice was low, that lazy rasp curling around every word. "God, you sound so pretty, baby..." he murmured, a smirk tugging at his wet lips.
Before you could catch your breath, his big hands slid up and cupped both your breasts at once; the sudden squeeze rougher now, his thumbs brushing over your swollen nipples as he squeezed again. You gasped, a soft cry that broke into a whimper when he gave one breast a subtle slap, just enough to send a sharp sting through the tender skin. The sound cracked through the soft hush of the room, followed by his low, breathy chuckle.
He watched you flinch and melt all at once, that wicked grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "So damn pretty," he whispered, his voice warm and soaked in that lazy praise that made your chest tighten.
His hands slid lower, dragging down your sides in slow, greedy strokes; his fingertips brushing over the curve of your waist, the softness of your hips, until his palms spanned your lower back, pulling you tight against him. He leaned in again, the brush of his damp curls against your collarbone sending a shiver through your chest. His mouth followed; lips brushing lower, kisses open-mouthed and wet down the center of your sternum, his tongue tracing a slow, sinuous line down the slope of your torso.
Your nightgown slipped further, pooling in soft, careless folds around your hips until the thin satin was nothing but a suggestion clinging to the swell of your thighs ; the only thing separating your flushed, slick heat from the cool hush of the room. His thumbs brushed up again, circling your stiff peaks with a slow, maddening precision, coaxing another soft gasp from you as he dragged his mouth lower. His lips traced the curve of your belly, tongue flicking in warm, wet strokes that made your stomach jump beneath him ; every flick and scrape like he was spelling your secrets out in a language only your skin could read.
A soft, helpless sound slipped from your throat ; a breathy, broken plea you could hardly shape around the thrum of your heartbeat. "Michael... please..." It came out shaky, a whisper drowned in the shallow hitch of your hips rocking harder against him, your body hungry for every inch of him ; every press, every scrape of teeth, every slow, wicked stroke of his tongue that made your veins burn hotter than the whiskey settling warm and sweet in your belly.
He didn't answer you at first ; just a low, satisfied sound deep in his chest as his tongue flicked higher again. He traced a wet, sinful line up the center of your body ; from the dip of your belly to the soft valley between your breasts, tasting every inch of you with slow, possessive sweeps that left your skin flushed and damp beneath his mouth. He ghosted up your neck, along the delicate edge of your jaw, warm breath brushing your ear before he found your lips again ; and when he kissed you, it was slow and deep, stealing the last of your air with that hungry, savoring press of tongue and teeth that melted every thought clean away.
His big palm cupped the back of your head, cradling you like something precious as he lowered you carefully onto the lounge's cushion. You felt your book slip from under you ; the soft thud of it hitting the polished hardwood lost under the thunder of your pulse. Your chapter, your place in that wicked story ; gone, forgotten, replaced by the real thing, warm and breathing and hovering over you.
He leaned back just enough to look at you ; the nightgown bunched helplessly around your waist, your flushed skin glowing in the hush of the firelight. With one slow tug, he slipped it down and off completely ; the soft satin falling away, forgotten on the floor as he tossed it aside. His eyes dropped, dark and heavy, tracing the glisten between your thighs with a slow, greedy flick that made you squirm under his gaze.
He settled between your open legs, his hands warm on the back of your knees as he guided them up, draping them over his broad shoulders. The press of his mouth against your ankle made you jolt ; the brush of his lips soft, then his teeth nipped playfully at the delicate bone just above your heel. You gasped ; sharp, shaky ; the word breaking off your lips with a tremor. "Fuck..."
A low laugh rumbled from him, dark and smooth and edged with that lazy confidence that always made your skin burn. His hands slid down, tracing the line of your calves with his thumbs, feeling every soft tremor in your muscles as he leaned in. He kissed up your ankle, his lips warm and open, then caught your toes in his mouth, sucking them slow while his eyes never left yours. The heat of his tongue, the scrape of his teeth ; it made your hips roll helplessly, a soft, desperate whimper slipping from your parted lips.
He let your toes fall free with a soft pop, chuckling again ; that deep, wicked rumble vibrating straight through your thighs. His big hands moved back to the backs of your knees, pressing them closer to your chest until you were spread wide beneath him ; open and glistening, every trembling inch of you laid bare under the weight of his gaze.
"Fuck..." he murmured, the word almost reverent, dark eyes flicking down to where you were slick and pulsing for him. He shifted forward, straddling the lounge seat ; broad shoulders caging you in as he lowered his face between your thighs. His mouth hovered just above your heat, his breath hot and teasing as he opened his lips and let a slow drop of spit fall ; hitting your swollen bud with a soft, obscene wet sound that made your whole body jerk.
You gasped ; a sharp, helpless cry ; hips bucking into the air. He lifted his gaze to watch you, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Mmph... look at you... so desperate for it..." he teased, his voice rough but warm, dripping with that low, dangerous affection that made your thighs tremble around his shoulders.
A soft whine slipped from your throat, your foot nudging at his shoulder in a feeble push that only made him laugh again ; a deep, rich sound that curled around your pulse and dragged it faster.
"I got you, beautiful... shh..." he murmured, his hand leaving the back of your knee to brush down your thigh, warm and big as it settled at your hip. He lifted his thumb to his lips, sucking it slow until it glistened ; then pressed it down between your thighs, the wet pad brushing over that swollen, slick bundle of nerves in one slow, deliberate circle. The contact made your back arch off the cushion, a broken gasp spilling from your lips as your hands clawed at the lounge's edge.
"You're so wet for me..." he murmured, voice a low hum as he flicked his thumb again, rubbing his spit into that aching bud with slow, lazy circles that made your hips chase his hand. His eyes stayed locked on yours ; dark and soft, that tiny smile tugging at the edge of his mouth as he watched you unravel. "Fuck... look at that..."
He pushed his thumb lower, dragging it to your entrance ; slick, hot, so ready for him that he groaned just watching the way your body fluttered around the slow press of his thumb slipping inside. He eased it in, inch by inch, the stretch delicious and sharp, the soft grind of his hand against your folds making your thighs twitch around his broad shoulders.
Your head fell back, a soft, wrecked moan slipping out as your hips lifted off the cushion, chasing the deep push of his thumb. He flexed it inside you ; twisting, curling ; just to watch the way you broke apart on the simple touch.
"Fuck, baby... look at you..." he rasped, his voice thick with that raw, aching want that made your pulse roar in your ears. "So needy... so wet... all for me..."
You could only gasp ; no words, just the ragged sound of your breath shattering in your throat as your nails bit deeper into the lounge cushion beneath you. Every muscle in your belly clenched around the deep, teasing slide of his thumb, every nerve alive under the hush of crackling firelight and the faint hush of old jazz weaving through the thick air. The soft, slick sounds of your own needy moans tangled with the wet slip of his touch ; filthy and sweet, echoing in the hush like a secret too big for the walls to hold.
Then he slipped his thumb free, the sudden emptiness making your hips jerk up, your breath catching in your chest ; only for the hot brush of his breath to fill the gap, his head lowering, curls tickling your inner thighs. He flicked his tongue through your slick slit, a slow, teasing stroke that made your eyes slam shut, a raw gasp tearing from your parted lips.
"Yes;" The word fell out soft and desperate, your hips twitching up to chase more of his mouth. He huffed a dark laugh against your heat, that low snicker vibrating straight through you as he dragged his tongue up again. He spread you open wider with his thumbs, his mouth dipping low to kiss each trembling fold ; a slow, reverent worship that made your thighs quake around his shoulders.
Then his lips closed around that aching bundle of nerves, sucking it slow and deep until your back bowed off the cushion. He pulled back only to flick his tongue in tight, quick lashes ; back and forth, back and forth ; every stroke shooting sparks through your belly, making your fingers tangle tighter in the cushion until your knuckles ached.
But then he stopped. You whimpered, a soft, broken sound as you lifted your head just in time to see him glance up at you ; his lips wet and glistening, his eyes half-lidded and dark with that lazy, hungry mischief only he could wear so well.
"Look at me," he said, voice low and rough, the command curling around your spine like silk and barbed wire all at once.
Your breath caught, your lashes fluttering as you forced your eyes open ; dragged your gaze down the line of your trembling body to where he knelt, framed by firelight, shoulders broad between your spread thighs. He pushed your knees back more, pressing you open so wide you could feel the cool air kiss the slick heat of your folds. He lowered his head again, tongue flicking back out ; slow at first, tracing lazy circles that made your thighs tense tighter around his shoulders.
A moan cracked from your throat, raw and sweet, your hips bucking helplessly as he swirled his tongue around your bud. His eyes stayed locked on yours ; those low, heavy-lidded brown eyes watching every twitch of your mouth, every flutter of your lashes, every small shiver that rippled through your chest as you gasped his name.
"Michael... fuck..." The word broke apart on a sob as your fingers slid into his damp curls, tugging at the roots as he groaned low ; that dark, hungry sound muffled by your heat. His nose brushed against your bud as his tongue slid lower, slow and thick, dipping into your slick entrance and curling deep inside you.
Your hips rolled against his face in slow, hungry circles, feeding him every inch you could give ; letting him taste the heat pulsing deep inside you, letting him feel how soft, how tight you clenched around the steady slide of his tongue. He groaned again, a rumble that vibrated through your core, his fingers digging deeper into the back of your knees as he rocked his face closer, tongue pumping slow and deep, swirling inside you until your thighs trembled and your toes curled tight against his broad back.
A sharp cry cracked from your lips, your voice rough and high as he found that sweet spot inside ; the one that made your hips jerk up, made your whole body break open with heat. "Oh, Michael;" you gasped, voice trembling as you tugged his head closer, your fingers twisted tight in his hair.
He growled in answer ; that sound raw and soaked in heat ; before slipping his tongue out of you, dragging it up to your swollen bud. He flicked it fast, impossibly fast, the wet lash of his tongue sharp and sweet all at once. His teeth caught the swollen flesh just enough to make you cry out, your voice rising higher, cracked and breathless as you felt that sweet, sharp edge building deep in your belly.
The room spun ; firelight, old jazz, the soft, slick sound of his mouth working you open and raw. You could feel the mess of your juices and his saliva dripping down, soaking into the cushion beneath you, every soft squelch making your face burn hotter as you bucked helplessly against him.
A deeper groan rolled through him, his jaw working, the muscles flexing tight under your fingertips. No wonder his jaw stayed so sharp ; always devouring you like a holy meal, always feasting on you like a man starved for your taste.
"Fuck... don't stop;" you choked out, voice cracking as the edge came sharp and fast, heat coiling deep in your belly until it snapped hard. His right hand slipped from your knee, dragging up your trembling body until his palm wrapped around your throat ; warm, wide fingers pressing just enough to make your pulse pound harder, your vision blur sweet and soft at the edges.
"Right there;" you gasped, voice breaking as your back arched hard, your thighs shaking around his shoulders, toes curling tight as the orgasm ripped through you in a hot, wet wave. A sound like a sob tumbled out ; raw, broken ; your hips jerking helplessly against the soft, filthy drag of his tongue as he pushed you through it, through every twitch and tremor until you could barely breathe.
His eyes stayed locked on your throat ; watching the way you swallowed, the way your mouth fell open around a sound you couldn't even make. He squeezed just enough to hold you there, the pressure sweet and wicked until your body finally sagged back into the cushion, a soft, shattered moan slipping free on the tail end of a shaking gasp.
He pulled away slow, his mouth shining ; lips and jaw wet with your sweetness, breath warm and ragged as he sat back on his knees. His tongue darted out to taste the corner of his mouth, a slow smirk curling the edge of his lips as he watched you struggle to catch your breath.
"Mmmh... god, that was perfect, baby... you okay?" he murmured, voice soft but rough around the edges, hands stroking down your trembling thighs.
You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as your wide, dazed eyes dropped ; helplessly drawn to the way his big hands worked at the knot in the drawstring of his pajama pants. Slow. Unhurried. Certain. The soft cotton fell loose around his hips, pooling low on those lean thighs until he pushed them off completely, leaving nothing between you and the full, heavy length of him.
He was thick ; beautiful ; the dark, veined shaft flushed and hard, the head of him slick and glistening with need. Even there, in the shadows and firelight, you could see the scattered, tender pattern of his vitiligo marring the smooth, flushed skin ; a patchwork only you knew this intimately. A secret painted across the length of him. It made your throat tighten, your thighs press helplessly wider as a pulse of heat rolled through your belly.
He knelt back onto the lounge between your spread legs ; all golden skin and damp curls and soft, sure hands ; and reached for the bottle of Crown Royal you'd left within reach. His eyes stayed on yours as he uncapped it, a soft glint of mischief flickering in those deep brown eyes while he brought the bottle's cold mouth to your parted lips.
"Open," he murmured, low and warm ; a quiet, coaxing command that made your pulse thrum hot in your ears. You parted your lips obediently, the bite of the cold whiskey sweet and sharp on your tongue as he tipped just enough for you to swallow. A low hum of approval rumbled in his chest as he pulled it away.
"Good girl..." he murmured, voice a soft drag of velvet and heat that made your thighs twitch around him. He lifted the bottle to his own lips, taking a slow sip, the line of his throat working as he swallowed. Then he set it aside, forgotten again ; all his attention snapping back to you.
He leaned in, his bare chest brushing your trembling breasts, the coarse hairs of his treasure trail grazing your soft belly as his heavy length dragged warm and hot along your slick heat. His mouth found yours again ; slow, claiming. Not rushed ; no, never that ; but deep and deliberate, savoring every tiny gasp you gave him. The kiss tasted like you, like the sharp sweetness of Crown, like the salt of your own skin still clinging to his tongue.
Your breath stuttered against his lips as he worked you open with his mouth ; a languid tangle of tongue and teeth, his head tilting just enough to deepen the slide. He bit your bottom lip, tugging it softly until a moan spilled into his mouth, that helpless sound sliding down his body like heat poured straight into his veins.
You felt the thick weight of him twitch between your thighs, that solid, throbbing length pressing harder against your slick warmth. Your hips lifted instinctively ; chasing the heat, the friction, anything he'd give you.
When he finally pulled back, your lips were kiss-swollen and slick. His eyes drank you in ; low, hooded, soft with that possessive tenderness that always made your breath hitch in your throat. He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, tracing the wet curve before letting it fall away.
"You look so beautiful like this..." he murmured, voice thick with awe and want ; dark lashes half-lowered as he dragged his eyes down your flushed, trembling body. "All mine. Only for me."
A shiver slipped through you, your breath trembling on a soft, desperate sigh. You watched ; helpless, transfixed ; as he brought his hand to his mouth, spit pooling on his tongue before he let it fall slow and hot into his palm. He wrapped that broad hand around his thick shaft, his spit gliding over the velvet skin as he stroked himself ; slow, base to tip, his mouth falling open as he watched his own hand work his girth slick and ready for you.
He looked up at you ; eyes dark, burning ; then leaned in just enough to drag the broad, slick head of him down, pressing it flush to your pulsing heat. He didn't push in ; not yet ; just rocked his hips enough for that flushed crown to smear your wetness back and forth, teasing your swollen bud until you whimpered, hips twitching up for more.
Then he pulled back just enough to slap his thick length against your slick folds ; once. The wet sound cracked through the hush of the room, sharp and obscene. Twice ; another smack, the heat sparking through your belly as a soft cry slipped out. A third time ; harder, heavier; the slap of flesh on flesh making you whimper and bite down on your lip just to keep from sobbing his name too soon.
He watched you do it; watched your mouth tremble around that bitten lip, watched your eyes flutter half-shut as your hips rocked helplessly up for more. A dark, crooked grin tugged at the edge of his mouth, his free hand sliding up the inside of your trembling thigh until his fingertips brushed that slick heat he'd just teased raw.
"Look at you..." he murmured, that low, rough voice scraped raw with praise and heat and a dark promise that made your belly clench tighter around the thickness pressing right at your entrance. The swollen head of him nudged against your slick folds, parting them just enough to feel that first slow, burning push ; the thick promise of being filled, stretched, made to take every inch he gave.
"So damn sweet for me," he rasped, his thumb brushing your knee as he nudged you wider open, claiming all the space between your thighs for himself. "Ready for every inch, aren't you, baby?"
All you could do was nod ; helpless, soft ; your breath trembling through parted lips. "Please..." you whispered, voice threadbare and wanting as your toes curled against his warm skin. You brushed the ball of your foot against his bare chest, feeling the slick heat of his skin, the faint dampness of shower steam still clinging to him. Your eyes dragged down his body ; the broad spread of his shoulders, the strength of his chest, the way the light caught the gold chain resting in the hollow of his throat, the splotches of vitiligo like constellations across his ribs and hips.
He gave you that small, sinful smile ; the one that always promised ruin ; then bent low, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to your ankle, his lips hot against your skin. His big hands braced your thighs wider, the slick head of him dragging through your folds, back and forth, until you whimpered. Then ; slowly, so slowly ; he eased inside. Not fast, never rushed. He knew what it did to you. How you split open for him ; every single time, as if your body could never quite get used to how thick he was, how deep he reached.
"Shhh... relax for me, baby... breathe," he murmured against your knee, his voice a hush of warmth and control as inch after inch sank into you. The stretch was everything ; a dull ache that made your toes curl, your spine arch, your nails dig helplessly into the soft cushion under you. A soft, broken moan slipped out as he bottomed out ; buried to the hilt, the coarse hair at the base of him pressed flush against your slick heat, your body fluttering tight around the thickness now seated deep inside.
He stayed there, locked inside you, savoring how you clenched around him ; the way your lips parted on a trembling exhale, your lashes fluttering, your thighs twitching against his ribs. He watched you unravel with that tender, dangerous heat in his eyes ; the same heat that made you feel owned, adored, undone.
Your palm drifted down, shaky fingers splaying across the firm plane of his stomach. You felt the warm slide of his skin under your touch ; the faint line of his treasure trail where it met the thick base of him, wet with you. Your hand wandered back up, brushing the hard slope of his chest, fingertips grazing the small dark specks of vitiligo on his pecs.
He caught your wandering hand in his, kissed your palm ; a soft, warm press that made your stomach flip ; then pressed it to his chest, pinning it there over the steady thud of his heart. He drew back, the thick drag of him pulling out slow until only the tip of him teased your entrance ; then he rolled his hips back in, filling you again, letting you feel every inch.
Your soft moan spilled out, hips twitching up to meet his push. He did it again ; slow, deliberate, the rhythmic roll of his dancer's hips coaxing out your pleasure one trembling breath at a time. His groan broke between his teeth ; a raw edge of hunger that made your belly flutter.
When he caught your hand again and pulled you forward, you let him guide you up until you were pressed chest-to-chest. He wound your arm around his neck, your palm brushing that cool gold chain. Your fingers grazed the damp hair at his nape, clinging for balance as he pushed deeper ; a steady, patient rhythm that let you feel every thick inch working inside you.
Your thighs trembled wider as he angled deeper, the head of him brushing that spot that made you choke out his name. You squeezed your hand tighter around the strong column of his neck, thumb brushing the damp skin just below his jaw. He groaned when you did, his head tipping back, throat bared ; the thick line of it so beautiful, the Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed down a ragged breath.
He dipped closer, his forehead brushing yours as he hooked his big hands under your knees again, pushing them back, opening you wide so he could bury himself deeper. The shift made your voice break on a high, needy cry. He pulled out until just the thick head of him stretched you wide ; then thrust forward, slow but deep, filling you to the base in a single, steady push that knocked every thought from your mind.
"Oh fuck..." you sobbed out, your nails clawing at the smooth skin of his back.
He let out a dark, breathless laugh; the sound rumbling warm against your lips as he hovered just over you. "Can you handle it, baby?" he rasped, voice thick and teasing as he did it again ; that same slow drag out, that deep, deliberate thrust in that made your breath catch in your throat.
"Shut... up..." you panted, breath breaking around a helpless moan as you tightened your hand around his neck, choking him lightly ; just how he liked it. A low, wrecked groan tore from his throat, the sound rumbling under your palm.
"Shit;" he hissed, hips snapping forward a little harder this time, the wet slap of him pounding into you echoing over the soft crackle of the fire, the low sigh of jazz still humming somewhere in the background like a memory. The air smelled like sweat and shea butter and the faint sweetness of Crown Royal lingering on both your lips.
He fucked you deeper, steadier ; each roll of his hips controlled, claiming ; until the heat at your core burned so hot your toes curled tight against his ribs. Slick sounds filled the hush of the room, your wetness coating him with every thrust. His length dragged deliciously against every tender spot inside you, coaxing out gasps and moans you couldn't hold back.
Your hand slipped from his throat, palm skimming down over the slick warmth of his chest. You pressed your arm over your eyes, a futile, instinctive attempt to muffle the helpless sounds spilling from your lips. But he wouldn't let you hide; not from him.
He caught your wrists in one big hand, pinning them back above your head against the lounge, his grip strong but reverent. His other hand braced your hip, angling you just right as he pushed deeper, his breath a soft snarl against your ear.
"Don't hide from me..." he whispered, his lips brushing your temple, his hips grinding deep enough to knock the air from your lungs. "Let me hear it, pretty girl. Every sound. All of it."
Your eyes fluttered open to meet his ; that dark, molten stare locked on every flicker of your face as you came apart for him, as if he could see every hidden thought spilling loose under the steady, delicious drag of his hips. The fireplace behind him hissed and cracked, gold light dancing over the damp curls clinging to his forehead, bronzing the slope of his shoulders, the flex of muscle in his arms as he caged you there ; caught, pinned, made soft and helpless beneath every slow, claiming thrust.
"That's it, baby..." Michael rasped, voice rough with hunger but low with praise ; a sinful vow that curled down your spine and tangled with the tight, coiling heat low in your belly. He drew out, hips rolling back with that practiced, deliberate grace, then pressed forward again ; slow enough to make you feel each thick inch splitting you open, deeper than before. The stretch was a tease and a promise both, a burn that made you keen for him to give you more.
"Take all of it... just like that..." he murmured again, his breath spilling hot against your throat as he dipped closer, the warm scrape of his lips pressing to your neck. He kissed you there, slow at first ; the plush press of his mouth soothed by the rhythm of his hips pumping deeper ; then his teeth grazed your skin, a soft, wicked bite that made your back arch off the lounge, made your thighs twitch around his hips.
His pace built with each roll of his hips, each slow push and greedy pull, the wet sound of your slick warmth taking him echoing through the hush of the firelight and the old jazz record that still sighed somewhere behind you. The room smelled like shea butter, sweat, and the sweet burn of whiskey that still lingered on your lips and his.
"Just like that, baby..." he growled again, voice hitching into something darker, more guttural, as he sealed his mouth to the curve of your neck. He sucked your skin there ; open-mouthed kisses that turned into sharp pulls that would bloom purple come morning ; his hips snapping harder, faster now, every wet slap of skin meeting skin pushing you closer to that edge.
Your moan tangled in your throat, helpless and hot against the shell of his ear. "Michael..." you gasped, the word slipping out like a ragged prayer ; part plea, part praise, every syllable broken by the stutter of your breath as he buried himself deeper. Your head tipped back, throat bared, your voice catching on another choked moan as he drove in again, harder ; the head of him kissing the mouth of your cervix in soft, devastating taps that made your vision swim.
He felt your body tighten beneath him ; the flutter and clench that made his own breath break into a groan, dark and guttural against your skin. "Fuck..." he breathed out, voice cracking around the word as he kissed you deeper, tongue sweeping your mouth like he wanted to taste every gasp you made. The kiss was hungry but unhurried ; lips sliding, teeth catching, breath mixing. You tasted yourself on him, the lingering sweetness of the crown royal, the salt of your sweat, the taste of him that made your head spin.
He broke the kiss with a soft growl, lips dragging down your jaw as his hand slipped from your pinned wrist and found the back of your knee. He hooked it in the crook of his strong arm, folding you deeper, pushing your leg back until your knee brushed your chest ; the new angle stealing your breath as he sank in again, impossibly deep. The thick head of him pressed right where you were softest, where your walls fluttered tight and trembling, your slickness coating every inch of him with a wet, messy sound that made his hips snap rougher.
Your toes curled helplessly in the air, body arched in a helpless bow beneath him as wave after wave of heat rolled through you. Your thighs quivered, slick and trembling, held wide and open in his firm grasp, his fingers digging into the backs of your knees like he was trying to brand himself into your skin. The room felt molten;humid with the scent of sweat, sex, shea butter, and the deep, aching pulse of need that had been building and unraveling between you for what felt like eternity.
Each thrust of his hips landed with a sharp, wet slap, your bodies colliding in a rhythm so deep, so deliberate, it bordered on worship. His thick length dragged through your soaked folds, parting you with each stroke, stretching you open around him in a way that made your back claw at the sheets. He filled you over and over again, unrelenting, like he needed to reach somewhere deep inside and stake his claim.
He whispered your name against the side of your neck, voice shredded and raw, a whisper scraped from the base of his lungs. The sound alone could've undone you, so thick with devotion, like he was offering up a prayer and a plea all in one. His breath was hot and stuttered, lips trembling as they grazed your damp skin;laced with salt, perfumed with your shared heat.
His gold chain swung freely between you, slapping softly against your sweat-slicked chest. Each motion sent it trailing across your breastbone, the cool metal dragging along your skin, catching in the hollow dip of your collarbone, a beautiful contrast to the scorching heat of his body pinning you to the lounge seat.
And then he leaned back, never breaking rhythm, his hips still grinding into you with that steady, devastating tempo. His dark eyes dropped between your bodies, watching the way you took him;watching how slick and needy your body looked, how your folds gripped every inch of him and begged for more. His mouth parted slightly at the sight, jaw tight, nostrils flaring like he was fighting not to lose control.
You had your head thrown back now, spine arched off the seat, hands cupping your own breasts, rolling your swollen peaks between your fingers in time with his thrusts. The pleasure sparked from your nipples all the way down to your core, winding the coil inside you even tighter. When he looked up and saw you like that;open, aching, playing with yourself for him;his lip curled into a dangerous smirk.
"You're gonna make me lose my mind," he growled lowly, his voice husky, trembling at the edges with restraint.
He leaned in again, slower now, and pressed his lips to your ankle; soft, reverent. His kisses trailed up your calf as he pushed into you deep, slow, and hard, over and over. His thrusts were purposeful, like he wasn't just trying to fuck you;he was trying to imprint himself on your soul. His chain swung again, catching the glow of the fireplace as he kept moving, rhythm never faltering. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, wet, rhythmic, punctuated by your gasps and the shaky moans you could no longer hold back.
Your hands moved down his sides and found his hips, gripping tight, urging him faster. He hissed through clenched teeth when your nails bit into the flesh above his hipbones.
"Damn..." he groaned, head thrown back, curls damp with sweat and sticking to his temples. Beads of it ran down his neck and chest, catching in the gold chain around his neck as his body worked over yours like a machine.
"Michael..." you moaned, your voice dissolving into a shaky breath as you clenched around him. Your walls fluttered, eager and sensitive, tightening the closer you drew to the edge.
His hands tightened behind your knees, pressing your legs back even further, deeper, angling himself to hit exactly where you needed. You felt him dragging across that spot again and again, each stroke making your mouth fall open in a silent cry.
"You feel that?" he whispered thickly, his voice trembling now. "Right there, baby... damn, you're so tight... you gonna give it to me?"
You nodded, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes from how deep he was, from the fire winding hot in your belly.
"I'm close," you cried, voice breaking, your fingers digging into the roundness of his behind, holding him inside you like you never wanted him to leave.
He grunted, chest heaving. "F-fuck baby... I'm not gonna last..."
His rhythm grew rougher, faster, his control slipping as your body fluttered around him. Sweat poured from him, from you;your skin stuck together, your breaths staggered and uneven, chasing something that was right on the edge of falling.
And then it hit.
Your whole body tensed, bowed, lips falling open in a soundless scream. That fire snapped at the base of your spine and exploded in your belly, white-hot pleasure spilling out in every direction. You convulsed beneath him, walls pulsing, milking him, begging him not to stop.
"Michael!" you cried out, shaking beneath him.
With a cry ripped raw from the base of his throat, Michael slammed into you harder than ever, once;twice;his entire body trembling with restraint before it gave out entirely. His release came in thick, scorching bursts, pouring into you in long, unrelenting waves. Each pulse of him stretched the moment into something infinite;his hips pressing deep, buried to the hilt as his body locked up over yours, arms trembling from the force of it. You could feel him throbbing inside you, every twitch of his climax pressing up against your deepest ache, branding you from the inside out, his warmth spilling into your womb, coating your walls like molten honey.
He stayed inside you, his length still heavy and twitching, held in place by the tight seal of your body wrapped around him like silk. Slowly, reverently, he lowered your legs from his shoulders, setting them down with a gentleness that contrasted the storm he'd just unleashed inside you. And then;he collapsed forward, the weight of him warm and solid and human as he blanketed your body with his own. His chest pressed to yours, the heat of his skin sticking to yours, breaths jagged and erratic as he tried to come down, tried to find air again.
His face dropped to your chest, lips brushing the underside of your breast in a lazy, reverent kiss. His nose nuzzled against the damp skin there, and you felt his breath ghost across your nipple, still hard and pebbled from the aftershocks. You threaded your fingers through the wet curls at the base of his neck, stroking gently, your other hand drifting down his spine, over the flex and dip of his muscles, your touch smoothing over the thin layer of sweat slicking his skin.
He didn't move;he simply breathed with you. His body felt like an anchor and a balm, grounding you as your hearts thundered together in unsteady rhythm.
His length, still sheathed inside you, twitched again;less urgent now, but no less intimate. He was only half-hard now, but the stretch of him lingered inside you, every inch still making you ache. You felt him slowly begin to soften, felt the sticky heat of his release leaking from where you were still joined, dribbling out of you in slow, syrupy trails onto the fabric of the lounge chair beneath you.
He exhaled slowly, then pushed himself up with a low groan, the muscles in his arms flexing as he eased his weight off your chest. He looked down between your bodies, gaze dark and molten, and gently rocked his hips forward once more, just enough to make you gasp.
You whimpered at the sensation;his length dragging against your fluttering walls, still so sensitive it made your thighs twitch. "Fuck..." he breathed, voice hoarse and trembling, watching the way your body responded to even the softest movement.
Then, slowly, he pulled out of you.
The sensation was overwhelming. You felt every inch of him slip free, wet and slow, until a flood of his warmth followed, pooling out of you and sliding down the curve of your thighs. He stared at it for a moment, his jaw tight, eyes heavy with something unreadable;hunger, reverence, the kind of satisfaction that came only from giving everything and being given everything in return.
His eyes moved slowly back up your body, pausing at your glistening skin, the rise and fall of your chest, the flushed peaks of your breasts; and finally, your face.
"You okay?" he asked softly, the roughness in his voice edged with concern.
You nodded slowly, your breath still shaky, your chest still heaving with the echoes of pleasure. "I'm fine, baby..." you whispered, eyes half-lidded, limbs loose and heavy, body wrecked in the best way. Your walls fluttered again at the thought of him still inside you, at the evidence of him still seeping from your body.
Michael nodded once, slowly, then leaned forward to kiss your thigh, his fingers smoothing over your legs where they still trembled faintly. His eyes drifted down again, watching as the creamy mixture of you and him spilled from your center onto the lounge cushion; slick, hot, and glistening.
The record player had long stopped spinning, the soft jazz a memory now. The needle sat idle in the groove, leaving behind only a soft hiss like distant rain. The only sounds left were the steady crackle of the fireplace and the soft, shallow breaths shared between you;both of you still riding the echo of everything that had just passed.
Without a word, Michael slipped one arm beneath the bend of your thighs, the other cradling the small of your back, and lifted you from the lounge chair with the effortless ease of a man who'd held you a thousand times. Your body melted into his on instinct, limp and warm and boneless, the aftermath of pleasure still humming in your blood. His chest was slick with sweat, muscles still flexing from exertion, and you pressed your cheek to him, breath falling soft against his skin as he carried you.
Your bare body curled against his, limbs folding like petals toward the center of him, instinctively seeking the quiet shelter of his hold. His heartbeat thudded steadily beneath your ear;slower now, but still strong, still echoing the rhythm you had shared minutes before. One of his hands drifted along your spine, his fingertips grazing every dip and curve with reverence, the kind of touch that wasn't rushed or demanding, but slow and sacred, as if he were relearning your body not just with desire;but devotion.
"I love you," he whispered into your hair, his lips brushing the crown of your head as the words slipped out like a vow;low and hushed, nearly drowned beneath the soft crackling of the fire nearby, but still weighted with everything he felt for you. The way he said it made the world feel small, private, precious. Like it was only the two of you, suspended in time.
You exhaled against his collarbone, your lips ghosting over the slope of his shoulder. "I love you too," you murmured back, barely awake, your voice edged in velvet and sleep, a quiet echo of everything your body had already confessed.
He shifted slightly, easing back on the lounge chair, and cupped your face in his hand. His thumb traced the curve of your cheek, lifting your gaze to his. Your eyes were heavy, lids drooping, pupils dark with exhaustion and softness. He studied you like he always did in these moments;like you were something delicate and wild he still couldn't believe was his. And then he kissed you. Slow. Deep. Purposeful. His lips were plush and warm, tinged with the lingering taste of Crown Royal;rich, smoky, with a hint of honey. The kind of kiss that didn't need to say anything because it already said everything.
The book you'd been reading earlier lay forgotten on the floor, its pages splayed open and spine bent, abandoned in the quiet chaos of passion. Somewhere in the mess of thrown clothes, empty glasses, and half-spun vinyl, the story you were following had lost its place. But none of that mattered anymore. The chapter could wait. The plot could be found again. Because the real story had just unfolded across skin and breath and tangled limbs;and it was more intoxicating than anything written on the page.
All that existed now was the man in front of you;his arms wrapped tightly around your bare frame, both of your bodies slick and glowing in the amber flicker of firelight. Beyond the tall glass windows, Manhattan glittered like a sleeping beast, but neither of you noticed. The sky could've cracked open, the city swallowed by the storm creeping in from the east, and you wouldn't have cared. Not with the heat of his body wrapped around you. Not with the world narrowed to this single, breathless space;the silence after the storm, and the sound of your breathing in time.
Sleep tugged at your lashes, soft and slow. Your breath deepened, became even, and your body relaxed entirely in his arms. He felt the shift, the way you surrendered to sleep like it was a safe harbor, and he watched you for a moment longer;his expression unreadable, but gentle, almost awestruck. Like he couldn't quite believe you were real.
Carefully, Michael slipped an arm beneath your knees again and the other behind your shoulders, rising from the chair with your body still curled in his. He walked with purpose, slow and steady, carrying you through the darkened hallway of the penthouse and into the master bedroom, his bare feet silent on the hardwood floor.
The bedroom was cool and quiet, the linen sheets freshly turned down, a low breeze stirring the curtains near the balcony doors. He leaned down and gently laid you on the bed, your hair fanning across the pillow in soft waves. He bent over you and pressed a lingering kiss to your lips; soft, reverent, a kiss meant to end the night like a benediction.
"Sleep well, baby..." he whispered, brushing your cheek with his thumb once more before moving to the other side of the bed.
He eased into it beside you, the white sheets cool against his skin. You instinctively reached for him in your sleep, and he smiled faintly as he scooped you into his arms, pulling you close, spooning you from behind. His chest pressed to your back, one leg slipping between yours, his arm banding tightly around your waist. Your bodies fit together perfectly;warm, bare, flushed. His nose nestled into the back of your neck as he inhaled your scent, a mix of sweat, perfume, and something entirely you.
And as sleep claimed him too, he pressed one last kiss to your shoulder, murmuring something only the night would keep.
The penthouse was still. The fire in the library cracked quietly, casting long, dancing shadows. The empty glass of Crown Royal rested on the table, forgotten. Both your clothes were scattered across the floor like fallen petals. The jazz record on the player had long stopped, the needle now whispering soft static into the air, and that book;the one you'd been so absorbed in hours before;lay face-down on the rug, its chapter lost to the heat of hands and mouths and the rush of breathless desire.
But you'd find the page again. Eventually.
For now, all that mattered was the two of you. Wrapped together in the hush of night. Held beneath the glow of a dim city sky. And asleep in the arms of something far deeper than lust— something lasting.
tags: explicit sexual content, fem!human!reader, semi-public sex, piv sex, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, breeding kink, cumming inside, glowy cum
words: 16k
note: i've been promoted to: avatar writer. my first time writing for it (def not my last!) lemme know what u think ;-) also his smirk in the header....GET INSIDE ME
★ ⏤ fantasize | all the time (if you were mine)
⏤ It's official - Jake is sick and tired of Norm giving him shit. While he can't claim to know as much about Pandora as Norm does, there's still a few things Jake can afford to do to piss him off even more for the fun of it, and it just so happens that Norm's sister works as a scientist in the lab - which to Jake spells perfect revenge in its simplest form.
It’s official — Jake has had enough of Norm’s bitching and whining.
For the last two months, Jake has endured a lot, more than he ever asked for or wanted; whether it was Neytiri on his ass about becoming an Omatikaya and never missing a single beat of training for it, Grace nagging him about video logs, or even Norm giving him so much shit over every single thing he didn’t spend three years learning in simulations and classrooms — he’s sat and listened to all of it without complaint.
Jake has never once fought back, never once raised his own grievances about how tedious and time-consuming everything actually is on one man’s shoulders, and yet it all keeps coming.
The worst thing is that he can understand all of it to an extent. There’s a necessary need for attentiveness when learning the ways of the Omatikaya, and the longer it takes, the worse his chances get with the rest of the clan. The video logs? They’re not that important, Jake thinks, but it keeps Grace off his back for the small kernel of time he actually spends in the real world and not inside of his avatar.
But with Norm, Jake can’t seem to understand what is actually bothering him enough to be so goddamn bitter about every little thing.
Of course, he’ll never fit into Tom’s shoes, not in the way everybody expects him to. He didn’t spend three years of his life learning how to control an avatar or how to function on Pandora — every day is quite literally a learning experience, a practical education that neither a lab nor a stuck up prick like Norm can teach.
And, while he’s on the subject, Jake actually thought Norm would be a decent ally, at least until he almost died and got saved — with reluctance — by the daughter of the Olo’eyktan and somehow ended up being thrust into learning their way of life.
Nobody seems to remember the giant part of the story concerning how he almost got devoured by an oversized dog in the process.
Instead, Norm wants to bitch about how Jake knows nothing, and treats him like a genuine idiot. Jake might be a few years short of being educated on the Na’vi, but he’s not stupid. He can still do stuff, stuff that Norm can’t; but reasoning with the man is like trying to convince the Na’vi that the Sky People are actually friends and not foes, and it’s pretty obvious that that’s never going to happen.
When Norm begins his daily ritual of berating Jake on his lack-of knowledge regarding the Hallelujah Mountains that surround their shitty little containment, Jake’s willing to sit through it and take it like a champion.
Norm starts weaving his conspiracies to the cluster of scientists about how Jake is a terrible candidate for joining the Omatikaya clan and that all he cares about is sucking up to the Chief’s daughter — not true, by the way, for Neytiri can only stomach being near Jake because she has to and on rare occasions, he can do something absurdly dumb to make her laugh — and Jake begins to mentally tap out of the debate, rolling his eyes to the side and sighing as he watches you duck your head through a low archway with a bowl of slop in your hands.
Jake watches you for around three seconds before the lightbulb flickers alight above his head.
And then he grins.
It’s hard to believe that you and Norm are related — Jake can’t find any similarities between the two of you. You’re incredibly compassionate and communicative, never letting Jake suffer in his silent struggle of stupidity, and not to mention you’re incredibly beautiful; whereas Norm is just… Norm. A bitter, angry, red-faced man who does a piss poor job at hiding his insatiable jealousy of how wasting your life in a classroom or behind a book actually means very little in the grand scheme of achieving your goals.
Example A: Jake of the Jarhead clan, ex-military, future Omatikaya. Cross-reference to Norm: sad loser. Jake signs his name on the mental essay he’s compiling as Norm drones on about culture and ignorance and narrows his gaze on you as you close in on the group.
Jake’s actually always liked you. You’re a no nonsense kind of woman who loves science and the Na’vi, and, unlike your brother, you actually treat him like an equal. Even now, as you slip next to him and lean back against the low metal work-surface, you meet Jake’s gaze with an eye-roll and smile, and his grin only widens from it.
Oh, how he loves that you like him. Although you spend so much time engrossed in your work and documenting on paper whatever Jake recites from his daily activities within the clan, Jake happens to know that you like him, and in hindsight, it’s never been a secret. For the first time, Jake lets himself consider the possibility of that being just another reason for Norm to suddenly despise him, but the idea warms his stomach rather than churns it.
“I can totally see Jake ruining all of our chances at building bridges by just burning them all together,” Norm huffs, folding his arms and wrangling a dirty glare in his direction. Jake welcomes it with the same smile that’s been blooming over his face for the past two minutes, which worsens Norm’s mood.
“I don’t see you building any bridges, either,” you say to Norm. “Jake’s been more valuable to this program than you have as of late.”
Norm bristles. “One of us has actually been doing research while the other is trying to seduce an Olo’eyktan’s daughter—”
“Jake’s doing field research, Norm,” Grace says, her eyes still glued to her microscope. “And he knows better than to seduce anybody when we haven’t properly studied the relations between Na’vi and avatars yet. And there are bigger issues at stake right now.”
“I can get results on that if you want me to,” Jake offers.
“No, Jake.”
Jake shrugs. While Norm continues his tirade against Jake’s rather noble endeavours with the Omatikaya, he turns his gaze back towards you and lets his mental clogs turn.
At this point, Jake thinks that even if you agreed with some of Norm’s points, it wouldn’t make any difference. There is absolutely nothing he can do to please Norm, and so maybe he should just stop trying. Then again… There’s something hideously funny in how worked up Norm gets when somebody jumps to his defence, particularly you.
And considering most of Norm’s insecurities come from seeds he planted all by himself without any concrete evidence to support most of the points, Jake knows that anything he does from here on out will drive Norm into a slow burning insanity.
“Is it because I’m in a wheelchair?” Jake asks suddenly.
Norm huffs. “Of course not. It’s because you don’t take any of this seriously. Everything is a game to you. All of us here have spent years building up to this assignment while you read a manual and called it a day.”
“What? I’m serious. I’m one of the best avatar drivers here,” Jake says smugly. Grace finally looks over with an irate look — something tells him he wasn’t supposed to tell everyone that she had told him that.
Norm’s face turns a whole new shade of pink.
“I’m also a quick learner. The Omatikaya are trusting me more and more each day, so while I go out there and find out valuable field research for this program—” Jake looks at you with a deliberately sweet look and you laugh quietly, “—you can stay here and look at plants and mud and cells.”
“You probably don’t even know what a cell is.”
“Sure I do. Where they lock up all the bad guys.”
Norm opens his mouth to say something more, probably missing the joke like he does every time, but this time Grace swirls in her chair and sighs loudly, looking between the two of them like they were children.
“Alright, ladies, you’ve measured your dicks at equal length. You’re both doing good work around here, so Norm, why don’t you just let Jake go back to doing his work with the Omatikaya and you can just get some rest. Jesus, you’re both making everyone miserable, it’s affecting my work ethic…”
“Yeah, sweet dreams, Norm,” Jake calls, and Norm gives him a filthy scowl before snatching his things up off the desk, holding them secretively to his chest as he stomps towards the back room lined with their bunks.
Jake feels the dark and evil energy follow him out the room and then he finally looks around the lab in disbelief.
“Jake, go, you’ll be late, don’t keep Neytiri waiting,” Grace reminds him, switching off the bulb to the microscope and stretching her arms as Trudy claps her hands and silently announces her retirement to the bunks after Norm. “Don’t forget to make a log when you get back. Don’t let him forget, will you, Spellman?”
Grace looks at you with a look that suggests no room for negotiation. It was an order. She collects her things, claps Jake on the shoulder and grabs a cigarette from the net by the archway and takes it with her towards her separated bedroom.
When the door to her little cubicle rattles shut, Jake shakes his head with a quiet laugh and rolls himself forward, giving you room to assemble your own work station where he had just been.
“Staying up late tonight?” he asks you, taking a swig of water before pushing one of the buttons to the link unit, waiting as it whirs to life.
You settle your stuff down and walk towards him. “Yep. I actually do have some work on cells to finish up.”
Jake’s lips quirk. “Not your usual ballpark, is it?”
“No, but there’s not really a surplus of Na’vi around here to communicate with,” you say in reply, rummaging with the unit to help Jake into the gel pack mattress. Usually he dismisses the help, but when it’s you helping him get comfy, then he’ll stomach his pride and accept your kindness. He’s surprisingly light, as normal, and you frown.
“Don’t forget about the real world, Jake, you gotta take care of yourself.”
“Don’t worry, I got this,” he assures you. “You need anything while I’m out?”
Another thing that will shave a few years off Norm’s life — Jake bringing you things, extraordinary and otherwise unattainable when stranded in the mountains things for you to study and report. You hum thoughtfully at the offer, pushing his head down softly when he wriggles restlessly, a little too eager to get to whatever he’s doing in the forest tonight.
“If you happen to cross paths with a tsawksyul, a simple cutting would be appreciated,” you tell him, opting for something a little more simple than normal, considering Jake’s busy these days training. “If you don’t forget while you’re busy seducing daughters, of course.”
Jake’s grin returns, if not out of genuine amusement then just to see you smile in return and do the little head-tilt thing that Jake’s discovered he adores.
“Not my thing. More into scientists,” he tells you, watching in the final moments before you shut him in the pod at how you shake your head and turn yourself away from him.
There was no rejection. No refusal. Just a smile.
A smile that sets his plan into motion.
No wonder Norm is always in a terrible mood. You find that his notes on the cells found in the mossy undergrowth of the forest is as chaotic as it can possibly be, which has left you using Grace’s Bible on Pandora botany as a guide and squinting to find the connections between his barely legible notes.
It’s basic knowledge that when cells die and a genetic material begins to unfold, a charge of energy is released; this concept has been the fundamental structural point to Norm’s notes on the moss and how each step at night causes a ricochet of expanding light, but there has to be something more than everybody is missing. Even in Grace’s book, there’s not enough information regarding how it works; if it’s connected to Eywa, if it is a response to another organism, whether it breathes and lives as its own entity.
Alongside Norm’s notes, you very sparingly begin to make an analysis of the communicative features of Pandora plant life, and begin jotting a vocabulary to use in a later research assignment, when a sudden knock against the glass above your head makes you jump quite literally up and out of your seat.
The Hallelujah Mountains are so isolated from the rest of the human population on Pandora and used rarely by the Na’vi during the night, but you distinctly make out Jake’s looming form standing outside with a smile on his face and relax. His skin is a bioluminescent explosion of colour, and for a moment you’re struck dumb staring at him until he waves his hand as if beckoning you outside.
You throw a cautious look over your shoulder, but the lab is silent and still. With that in mind, you reach for one of the exo-packs and shrug on your cardigan hanging on the back of the chair you were just on and hesitantly begin to make your way outside.
Very sparingly have you been outside of Site 26 to explore, and never once on your own. Grace has drilled into you the strict importance of respecting the laboratory rules and curfew, and if you’re going to wander outside after hours in the name of research, then please, wake her up too.
But you won’t be alone out there, not when Jake is waiting for you outside.
Jake drops to a squat in anticipation when the airlock doors to the lab force open with a wheezy breath, and he sees you cautiously step out and secure a button on your cardigan in place. The gesture almost makes him croon. He rarely sees you at night since he’s learned the value of getting rest in between his adventures in his avatar, but now he can’t believe what he’s been missing out on seeing past his bedtime.
You look tired, your hair out of place and messy, but he recognises your attempt to look more alert when you step towards him with a slight bounce.
“Hey, tìyawn,” he calls to you, as you stare up at him even whilst drawing near. Thanks to the crouch, you’re about eye-to-eye, and he watches your expression widen with wonder as you map out the illustrations of light across his nose and cheeks, before sweeping to his forehead, then his neck, and then his bare chest.
“Hey, yourself,” you laugh, finding his eyes again as they glow in the low light. The Pandora skies are littered with stars and balls of unimaginable white light, but even the surrounding forest gathering around the lab to protect it from the harsh dropping winds of the mountains are pulsing with purple light, every single shrub and leaf and plant glowing with life.
Jake stares at you for a moment before producing a gift from behind his leg. You take it from him with a wide and gasping smile.
“No way!”
“Way,” Jake says, watching you handle the flower with so much care that one might assume it would break with your touch. With the way Jake was swinging it around on his way up here, he’s actually shocked that it’s still in one piece, but something in the way you respond to everything Jake does or brings tells him that even if he’d brought a portion of it, you’d be just as pleased.
“Thanks,” you say, turning slightly as you tell him you’re going to put the tsawksyul in the lab for safe-keeping. But Jake reaches his arm out to trap you from leaving, cocking his head to the side with a soft smirk when you round back on him curiously.
“It’s not gonna die if you leave it out here, it’s a flower,” Jake tells you, jerking his head in another direction. “Wanna look around with me?”
You pause, and he can tell you’re genuinely conflicted. Grace said not to leave the vicinity under any circumstances out of respect for the Na’vi and the lab rules. But she also said not to go outside without her, and here you are.
“Grace will be mad if she finds out I’m gone,” you tell him slowly.
“Probably.”
“And Norm.”
Jake feels a rush of something at the mere mention of your brother, and his tail swishes against the rocks behind him.
Jake leans closer to you. “Well, him I don’t care about.”
Mindful of the plant in your hand, you gently push Jake’s chest back until he rolls on his heels, unable to fight the smile on your own face.
“…Where will we be going? I can’t go far just in case Grace wakes up and comes looking for me.”
Jake tilts his head up to the sky and to the top of the mountain peak that houses the lab. From his own experience scouting up there, Jake knows there’s a small incubation of trees that offers a compelling view of the entire mountain range, as well as offering a minor collection of plants he thinks you’ll die over once you see.
But that just wouldn’t be as evil as what he originally had planned. He then rolls his head towards the small section of trees that border the back of the lab, close to where the bunks are, and he then looks back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“We’ll stay close,” Jake promises.
You hesitate once again and guiltily look at the lab. It’s not like it’s going anywhere…
“Alright,” you sigh, looking back at Jake and watching his smile widen as if he’s just obtained a great victory. There’s no room in your stomach for suspicion to grow — it’s overrun with butterflies when Jake points his head in the direction of the snug tree line and holds out his finger for you.
You stifle a laugh and reach to hold it, setting the tsawksyul on the ground tucked under the same window he just scared you from and join him on the slow walk to wherever he means to take you.
Being with Jake has always felt easy, but being with Jake’s avatar is practically uncharted territory. It’s a struggle to remember that it is actually the same man you like so badly back in the lab, the same guy who deliberately rams your ankles with his wheelchair just to watch the way you catch yourself as you fall, the same guy who you think uses you as a factor to piss off your brother but in a way that you find strangely attractive.
Now, he’s an almost ten foot Na’vi leading you in the whimsical dark towards a cluster of trees, and you don’t know how to begin separating the feelings you have for Jake from the feeling of nerves you feel around his alter ego.
You can barely make out Jake’s face all the way above your head, not until he feels your stare and looks down at you beside him. There’s a similarity in his human expressions with his Na’vi ones, which is fortunate considering there was a time where you thought the avatar looked more like Tom than it did Jake. Now that they’re one in the same, and now that Jake is in front of you in his avatar form and the feelings you have for him are still lingering, you’re beginning to accept the likeness between the two of them.
“What did you do today?” you ask him, referring to his ritualistic training with Neytiri.
Jake hums thoughtfully. “Nothing compared to Norm, I’m sure.”
At that, you laugh. “I’m seriously asking, Jake.”
“Alright… Neytiri has me reading the signals of the forest whenever we go hunting,” he explains sparingly, seeming not in the mood to talk training now that you’ve reached the lay of forest near the back of the lab. He surveys the setting and the space between the lab and the fringe of leaves and bushes and nods, as if satisfied but then pulls you deeper into the thrush of leaves.
“She says everything’s connected,” he continues. “She also says I’m a terrible shooter.”
“You’re missing your shots?” you tease. Jake turns back to you with a grin that you honestly walked into when you asked.
“Not all of ‘em.”
After the short walk, Jake is finally satisfied with the burrow of bushes and rocks that outline the small selection of forest behind the lab, and he looks up to once again gauge the distance and is pleased when the lab doesn’t look too far away. Jake hears you rustle and sit on one of the low rocks with your knees to your chest, and then drops to his usual squat in front of you, arms rested on his knees, gently fiddling with his fingers.
“How’re your cells?” he asks, but you’re so busy gazing at the forest around you and the stars above your heads that he fears you’re not even listening. Jake instead settles for watching you.
He knows he’s in over in his head when even his avatar likes you. Jake’s had nowhere near as much experience navigating his way around how to use this body than the other drivers, let alone time to understand the signals his body sends him or the feelings different things have to him, but he can tell the difference between being you friendly and not, even when he’s not totally familiar with how it all works. And on top of that, there are so many random variables to being Na’vi to get his head around that he never even thought of until Neytiri or Grace filled him in on what the hell was going on with his body at certain times of the month.
He’s stupid sometimes, true, but not totally naive. Jake recognises the tug in his chest as he looks at you — he feels the same thing when he’s in his human body. He’s no expert on Na’vi, never claimed to be, but he feels there must be something instinctive in the way he feels for you and the way his avatar senses it. And with Norm’s fresh-faced hatred in full flush whenever Jake makes that fact known, he’s not at all surprised that those feelings have suddenly become so full frontal now that he’s had enough of Norm’s bullshit.
“It’s amazing out here,” you say, to Jake but also to the wind as you completely crane your head up to look through the cracks in the branches and leaves. “Don’t you ever wish Earth had looked like this?”
“I haven’t really thought about Earth since I left,” he confesses, shuffling closer to you while you’re occupied with mapping out the stars in the sky.
“Not once?” You look down at him. If you’re taken aback by the sudden closeness between you, you hide it well.
Jake shrugs. “Nothing I need is there.”
Fair enough. You stare at him for a moment and think about that before agreeing.
“Me too.”
The branches above your heads sway in a gentle breeze and Jake watches you hug your cardigan around yourself before asking, “So, why’re we here? Did you wanna show me something?”
“What, the stars not enough for you?” Jake looks up to the sky.
You laugh quietly. “I’ll never get enough of them, actually. Beats the lab ceiling by a long shot. Looking at the stars through the window’s not the same… I wish I didn’t have to use this mask—” You throw him a playfully exasperated look, “—I wish I had an avatar.”
“Why don’t you?” Jake’s never asked, never thought to ask. But you’re the only scientist in his close collective of scientist ‘friends’ who doesn’t actually drive an avatar, and is instead limited to just studying everyone else's.
“It was never really my thing,” you explain, settling comfortably atop the rock and throwing the glances to the sky away to focus on him. Like the lab, they’re not going anywhere, and the ones tattooing Jake’s skin are far more interesting. “Okay, that’s a lie. I think the avatars are fascinating, just like the Na’vi, but sometimes you take what you’re given when you’re given it. Norm has always had to be better than I am, always one step ahead. Plus, our inheritance only stretched as far as to cover the contract costs of one avatar driver.” You laugh, “And Norm’s older.”
“Damn, so we just got stuck with Norm,” Jake comments, only to make you laugh again, which thankfully works. “I’d have a better time out here if it were you and not him.”
“He’s actually very insecure about that,” you tell him, watching his amusement grow without knowing the exact reasons for why. “He always goes on about how your avatar is much more built. I guess Tom was just more athletic and the avatar reflects it, I don’t think Norm’s used so much as an elliptical since high school… Anyway, he’s very vocal on how unfair the avatar program is in that regard.”
“You agree with him?”
Jake’s fingers ghost across your ankle.
“One: he’s my brother, and I’m not going to answer that question honestly. And two: let’s not forget who the avatar is modelled off. Tom was very handsome.”
“Growing up, I was always the pretty twin.”
You hum. “I couldn’t tell.”
Jake’s never ever considered the fact of you knowing his brother well before he died. He’s never had to think about it before, not until now, but he pushes the thought away and falls back into the thoughts of what he came here to do in the first place.
“You don’t think I’m handsome?”
He watches your grin widen. “I didn’t say that, did I?”
Jake creeps forward slightly, and this time you notice, moving your toes back further towards your bum on the rock while Jake continues his close creeping.
“I think you’re a very pretty woman,” Jake murmurs. “Beautiful, even.”
“Norm’s not here to get mad at you for saying that,” you remind him.
“‘m not saying it for Norm to hear.”
You feel Jake’s hand sliding to wrap around your ankle and you shudder when he smooths his way up to your calf. You’ve never interacted with any Na’vi like this before, never felt their skin pushing against your own. With a glance down at his hand, you frown and work your way back up to his face, his eyes lit up in the dark.
“It’s not fair that you’re using your avatar against me right now,” you mutter, making him laugh through his nose and bring his body closer to the round edge of the rock. He considers it progress when you remain rooted in place once his hands run up the length of your legs to your waist.
You watch his nostrils flare slightly as he observes you, which only makes you feel more nervous and trapped here.
“All I’m doing is talking,” says Jake.
You scoff at him. “Does all your talking involve hands on the waist, Sully?”
He shrugs. “Only with really pretty people.”
Jake’s ears prick when you sigh and look back up at the stars. He doesn’t move his hands, but he senses your body tensing beneath his touch, smells the change in your body as he speaks. He’d love that part of being Na’vi a lot more if he knew what those changes meant exactly, and he can’t figure it out even as he stares at you intently.
His thumbs smooth from left to right, feeling the nub of your ribcage with every stroke over your tank top and tries to level his face into one of absolute neutrality when you look back down at him.
“What are you doing, Jake?”
Not what he was expecting you to say, if he’s being honest.
“Nothing,” he says.
“You’re being weird,” you reply, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. It has the opposite effect, and you watch him struggle not to smile. His hairline raises when his brows do, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes when you figure him out, “Did you actually bring me out here just to flirt with me?”
He does nothing except look at you, as if the answer is painfully obvious and you’re stupid for not realising it sooner.
You sigh loudly. “Jake, I’m sorry that you didn’t get the memo like everybody else, but you didn’t need to lure me out the lab in your avatar if you wanted to get my attention.”
His thumb continues to move and his eyes drop slightly.
“I wouldn’t say I lured you out here,” Jake replies. You watch his eyes zero back in on yours and you fight your body against the urge to wrap up and hide from him.
“You can’t be that stupid, I refuse to believe it,” you laugh disbelievingly, which makes him raise his brows questioningly. Even with a layer of plastic obstructing your face from his, Jake can’t get over how pretty you look. “You have to know that I like you even when you’re not a big blue alien.”
Jake’s grin widens, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “I know. You’re really bad at hiding it.”
“Okay,” you say, feeling under your cardigan for his hands and attempting to wrestle them away, but he doesn’t budge. You laugh again, as if the whole thing is genuinely funny for you, “then you can always make your thoughts about that known when I see you in the lab. In person.”
“I’m not doing anything I wouldn’t in there if I had the chance,” Jake tells you, moving his hands but only to sandwich them between your tank and your skin. The feeling of his palms flat against your stomach makes you jump slightly and reach for his wrist.
“Please. I see you every single day.”
“Yeah, and your brother, and Grace, and Trudy,” Jake points out. “I can’t get a second alone with you. What would you have me do, make a move with your brother breathing down my neck about it?”
“You could just be upfront. Save me from looking like an idiot.”
“Come on, baby, let’s be real.”
The smile he has on his face is unmoving, and you search every corner of it to find signs of his sincerity falling and find nothing. But something feels wrong.
You’ve spent close to two months in the long shadow drawn by everything else in Jake’s life, and considering Jake’s newfound role of future Omatikaya warrior, you feel that the time he spends in your company has become less and less. So now that Jake has decided to pick up on whatever signals you were sending him and respond to them, you assume it’s all in the name of good fun to piss off Norm.
Feeling Jake’s hands creeping up your body in the middle of the Hallelujah Mountains and with no older brother here to glare at either of you, you’re rethinking everything you thought you had figured out.
“I don’t get it,” you say finally.
Jake just laughs quietly. “You thought I just rammed my wheelchair into your feet for fun?”
“You mean to tell me that was your way of showing interest?” you ask unconvincingly.
“…Nah. I liked watching you fall, though,” he grins. Jake picks himself up from his squat and looms over you like a shadow, watching you fall back onto your forearms as you stare up at him. He sets one knee between your legs and leans down slightly, breathing in deeply in a way that has you thinking he’s actually sniffing the air around you.
“Honey, I’m all kinds of obsessed with you.”
You blink. “You certainly gave nothing away.”
“I bring you shit all the time.”
“I’m a scientist, I didn’t know you did that because you liked me. I thought it was just because I wanted better samples than Norm.”
“I mean, that definitely helped motivate me to find everything.”
“You never even told me you liked me.”
“Well, I’m telling you now.”
“Okay, well, tell me tomorrow when you’re awake and not all…big,” you frown.
Jake chuckles. “You don’t like me now, or something?”
“I definitely never said that. I just want to hear human Jake Sully tell me how he feels without using his avatar to try and win me over.”
Jake’s tail swishes behind him. “You prefer the dummy in the wheelchair?”
“I like your wheelchair,” you tell him quietly, running your hand up his arm as he pins you flat against the boulder with a hand on your stomach.
“I don’t,” he murmurs. “I like being like this. I like being bigger than you. I like smelling how much you like me.”
All of a sudden, your legs swing shut around him and you look at him in disbelief.
“Freak.”
All he does is smile.
“Come on, Jake, I actually don’t have time for this,” you say around a groan, trying to move against him but failing miserably. An exasperated smile falls on your face. “Really? What are you even trying to achieve? You’re seducing me with your avatar?”
His ears twitch and he angles his head to the side. “Yes?”
“Why am I getting the impression that all of this has something to do with Norm somehow?” you sigh in reply, but Jake notices the way you fall relaxed underneath him, and he has the feeling you’re in no real hurry to get anywhere else tonight.
“Well, it might have something to do with it,” Jake confesses, his voice lower than it was before as he draws his nose close to you and takes a deep inhale. The feeling of his braid flicking down from his back and brushing against your thighs makes you shudder, not to mention the feeling of his snout against your collarbones. “Really, I just want to spend some time with my girl while I got the chance to.”
Whatever you want to say or have planned to say dies away when you feel Jake’s lips wander and press against your sternum.
Sighing, you shift your hands to his arms that have you pinned down and carefully squeeze. “Good luck with that, Sully.”
He runs his tongue flat against your skin and hears you exhale through your nose, a noise of satisfaction muffled by your closed mouth, and all at once, Jake’s decision is final.
He is going to fuck Norm’s sister.
And he’s going to rub salt on Norm’s wounds by doing it in the way that will piss him off the most.
Jake kisses his way down the length of your body, his hands moving around your figure like a sculptor until his hands find their way to your thighs. Though oversized and covering most of them, Jake’s hands circle around the width of your thighs and he strokes his thumbs across the inside skin of them, all while laughter bubbles in your chest.
All of this is just so absurd. If someone had told you this morning that Jake so much as liked you back, it would have taken some convincing, but if they had gone as far as to suggest he’s be attempting to seduce you in his avatar in a little chunk of forest behind the lab you pretty much live in, you would have laughed at the delusion of the thought. But now, there’s no denying the very tangible view of Jake’s Na’vi hands pressing down on your thighs, his eyes staring up over the slope of your body as you pick your head up to look down at him.
“This is crazy,” you gasp.
Jake’s teeth reveal themselves against the stretch of skin he was just pressing kisses onto, his smile widening as he speaks. “You don’t want to, baby?”
You weigh your options. It’s either leave and go back to the lab and hope that Jake follows through on his apparent feelings for you in the morning… Or you can relax and enjoy.
“Jake…” You pause for a moment. You want to enjoy it, and you feel the pool of desire deepen inside of you and know it’s a sensation Jake can most likely smell.
He’s still your Jake, still the same guy you dote over when he remembers he has a life outside of being Na’vi. The only difference now is that he’s blue, and mobile, and double your size in every definition of the word. And suspiciously attractive, but you don’t know for certain if you think that because it’s Jake or because it’s actually true as a fact. But you just can’t help but wonder if Jake’s climaxing feud with Norm is the only reason he’s pinning you to a boulder in the forest and kissing your stomach.
“You’re not just doing this to piss off Norm, are you?” you ask, feeling serious all of a sudden. The only way you know Jake notices is from the way his ears flatten against his head and his eyes grow round with concern.
In the light, his tail flicks from side to side in the way you recognise most Na’vi do when they’re nervous, and you fight the urge to look away from him when he stays quiet for a second, thinking of what to say in a loud silence.
Of course he’s doing this because he knows it will piss Norm off if and when he finds out. As soon as Norm catches a stinking whiff of Jake on your body when he’s in his own avatar surveying the mountains, there will be nowhere for Jake to run or roll off to and avoid Norm’s volcanic rage. But he knows as well that this is a long time coming — that he’s been chasing circles around your feet for the fun of it, and now the chance has come for him to bring what he’s buried to the surface and shape it into something more.
Jake very carefully thinks of what to say. “Knowing that if I fuck you right now it will piss off your insanely annoying brother makes me want to do it more. But if the only reason I was fucking you was to piss him off, then I’d be doing it in front of him.”
Your brows raise.
“Okay, that came out wrong,” Jake says quickly. “My point is… I go crazy thinking about you. And everything I think about doing to you can be made possible when I’m, as you said, all big.”
“But… Norm—”
Jake groans, all smiles. “Oh my god, can we please stop bringing up your brother for a sec? It’s a huge turn off.”
“It doesn’t make me feel any sexier, either,” you point out, “but I’m just thinking—”
“Don’t think,” Jake tells you. “This is the one time you don’t have to think about anything at all except for how you’d like me to take care of you.”
Jake returns his face to your stomach as you blink furiously, a flustered feeling creeping up over your body at the bluntness of his words. If you thought he was playing around, you’re officially convinced when his hands tighten around your thighs and he spreads them apart, pinning them down against the boulder he’s made your bed for the night. You inhale a deep breath when Jake’s thumbs dip underneath your shorts, bunched around your inner thighs.
“I suppose it would be like killing two birds with one stone…”
Jake laughs against your skin. “Jesus Christ, Spellman, quit talking so much. Who knew you were such a yapper?”
“Am not,” you protest.
You shudder when he plants another kiss on your abdomen, pings the fabric of your shorts back against your skin with a sharp sting and he grunts with a nod.
“Okay,” Jake agrees, his ears high and tail swishing playfully. “Now take off your cardigan.”
Still watching Jake on your forearms as he hooks his fingers around the waistline of your shorts in an effort to pull them down, you wrangle a sigh of protest and lift your lower body up for him, all whilst reaching for the buttons on the front of your cardigan.
You breathe heavily as you mumble, “Do you really need to take off all my clothes, Sully?”
“One of us is halfway there, honey, and it’s not you,” replies Jake. His golden eyes watch with intent as he pulls the shorts down the expanse of your legs with your underwear in tow. As you shudder with the breeze fanning between your legs, Jake takes a big inhale and stares.
He barely moves an inch once the shorts and panties are in a bunch around your feet, but you busy yourself by sweeping a look at Jake’s own attire, or striking lack of. Between his legs hangs his tewng, a simple and sparsely intricate item of clothing that leaves little to imagination when it comes to what is growing between his thighs.
It’s standard attire for the Omatikaya, but you’ve never seen it up close, and never on Jake himself. It hits you then that he’s still in his entire hunting gear, as if he finished up with Neytiri and brought himself here right away.
Jake’s thighs clench as he finally moves, readjusting his footing in his dropped squat; to him, this position has become as natural as breathing, but you stare at his thighs bulging and wonder how he’s not in agony from it alone.
Jake looks up at you after his allocated time spent analysing the spot growing wet between your legs and you gulp, feeling almost nervous.
“Well, you’re gonna be an Omatikaya soon. One of the consequences is wearing your little g-string everywhere.”
His head leans to the side as his amusement grows. “It’s called a tewng, genius.”
That makes you laugh, and say in a melodic and sweet tone, “I know.”
But Jake bites back with the same sweet tone as you and says, “Then shut up,” and you comply. It’s the least you can do for him when he smooths his big hands back between your legs and up close to your cunt.
Pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee, Jake inches his hands further, relishing in a deep breath as he returns to staring at the spot just inches from his fingers. From his perspective, you are hideously tiny; given the obvious lack of research on Na’vi and human sexual relations, Jake isn’t totally sure you’ll be able to withstand what he wants to give you.
Worth a try, though.
Jake’s chest rises and falls as he stares in wonder at your pussy, the scent divinely pronounced, and he runs one of his fingers between your folds and up, collecting the juices on his finger as he rounds your clit in a rather observational manner.
You bristle, your legs instinctively trying to close — all the good it does, as Jake pushes them back open. His eyes flicker back up to yours, as if assessing his next steps, before he lowers his mouth to your cunt and without doing you the kind service of looking away, stares at you as he spreads his tongue flat between your folds.
His actions earn him a strangled moan of pleasure, and his ears twitch in satisfaction. The feeling of his tongue against you is strangely addicting, rough and soft at the same time, warm and wet and enough for your hips to lift.
“Jake…” You gasp, feeling your eyes close, half with the pleasure of it all and also sheer embarrassment.
Like a predator watching its prey, Jake never looks away from your face and the way it twists, your jaw hanging open as he licks your cunt. With the size of his head alone, his tongue virtually covers every corner of your pussy with no difficulty, leaving you with no untouched itch, no ignored stretch of wet skin.
You can’t even bear to look down at him again, and you toss your gaze up to the stars as they twinkle above, blinking, conspirators to your escapade. Biting down on your lip to stop yourself from moaning too loud, your hips slowly roll up and down as Jake sucks around your clit, his big hands working overtime to keep you from wriggling away entirely off the rock and to the ground.
“Oh, god…”
Between your legs is a flurry of warmth, a tingling feeling rippling down to your toes. After five dry years, it comes as no real shock that even someone’s tongue could be ripping this kind of response from you.
“You good?” Jake murmurs.
“Mmh. Hot,” you rasp. It doesn’t help that there’s an exo-pack warming your face with every deep breath you take. Jake moves his mouth from your cunt momentarily as if trying to hear you, watching with curious eyes when you bite back another noise which stirs as he slides his finger towards your entrance.
“This mask is really ruining my vibe right now,” you groan, your voice so throaty and strangled that Jake has to fight a smirk. He fails miserably.
“Take it off and hold your breath,” Jake replies; a laugh rumbles from his chest when you lift your head to scowl at him.
“It would frighten people if they knew how much of a genius you were.”
Jake hums, his eyes glistening as he cocks his head, “I’m incredibly humble.” Then he wastes no more time talking and sinks his finger into you.
He sinks in with plenty of ease, your wetness guiding his finger all the way in to the knuckle and you choke back a strangled sound; one of Jake’s fingers feels like two of your own, the stretch unfamiliar but not unwelcome after your dry spell of five cryo-stolen years.
Jake grins widely and inches his tongue back between your legs, swiping it over your clit and forcing the moans out from hiding in your throat.
You turn your head to the side, sparing a glance at the distant laboratory. You can only hope you’re not loud enough to startle your sleeping colleagues and brother.
“Eyes down here, Spellman,” Jake mumbles, his voice vibrating across your pussy and pulling your eyes back towards him. Tears spring to your eyes as he looks up at you, working his fingers in and out of you slowly while matching his licks to the tempo.
His tongue is slightly rough and textured, each lick leaving you feeling almost ticklish. A rush of warmth pulls from your cunt up to your neck, and your thighs tremble around his head with a flushed squeeze, but Jake doesn’t seem to mind; he pulls your one leg further apart with his other hand and slips in a second finger, the stretch of your hole making your back arch with a half pained, half pleasured moan.
“Jake!” you gasp, your hips bucking up against his mouth, his fangs brushing across you. He has the nerve to laugh all of a sudden, pulling his mouth away after pressing a sloppy kiss to your clit. “Jesus, fuck, Jake—”
“Goddamn, you are a yapper,” Jake comments, and you glare at the almost human look of pure smugness on his face, his chin coated with saliva and juice.
“Fuck you,” you huff, feeling the absence of his tongue immensely, despite his continuously moving fingers. Jake’s fingers are thicker than they looked from afar — it feels like you’re full already, but you’re not willing to confess that to him. He already looks far too proud with what he’s doing.
You suppose, now that you’re thinking about it, Jake’s had years to become familiar with a pussy; he seems to be back between your legs with a certain hunger for you, the taste of your juices sweeter than he initially expected.
His fingers are coated in juice, slipping into you with no resistance and curling his fingers up to make your hips lift once more. He almost wants to make a comment to fluster you, to tell you how insanely good it feels for your cunt to be quivering around his fingers, welcoming him up there as if you’d prepared for them beforehand. Jake parts his fingers inside of you, stretching you out, his mouth comfortably attached to you.
His ears twitch when you let out a wobbly cry — actually, he’s not sure if you’re crying for real or not. His eyes follow your hand as it creeps down to the hood of your pussy, just above his nose, and he pulls his mouth away for a split second.
“No, no, go back,” you pant, and like a dog given a command, Jake pulls his soggy fingers out of your cunt and pushes his head back between your thighs, satisfied by your own pleasured sounds when he does.
Jake hooks his arm across your lower stomach, effectively pinning you to the sloping boulder while he uses his other hand to keep your legs wide apart. You forget all about modesty and self-control and open them as wide as you can for him to help, your hand stroking the top of Jake’s hair as he burrows his way back between the wet spot he was devouring.
You suck in a tight and high-pitched breath when Jake’s tongue shifts from left to right over your clit, the feeling of his tongue strange and almost like a vibration. Your hips lift from the boulder again and shift up and down — Jake’s barely even trying, barely broken a sweat, but when he glances up at you he’s both amused and surprised by how twisted in pleasure you look. All he can see is the underneath of your jaw tilted to the sky, and one of your hands curling up around your tit under your tank top.
Jake guides his arm from trapping your abdomen up to push the bottom of your tank up above your wrist. There’s no way he’ll let you gatekeep the sight of your tits when he’s the one making you touch yourself in the first place. His eyes are wide with excitement when you fist the fabric of your tank and yank it up above your boobs, the curve of them bouncing with the quick movement of your hand.
Jake groans into you, his tail curling up high. Jake’s tasted a lot of pussy in his life, but he doesn’t know what exactly you’ve done to taste so good to him. He momentarily convinces himself that it feels different because he’s in a whole other body — it must just be because he’s big and strange and he’s been fucking you in his mind for a while now that you somehow feel ten times better than anyone else he’s ever been with.
The pool of warm juice between your legs leaves you incredibly soft and squishy, like a tìhawnuwll that he has to remind himself he can’t just sink his teeth into.
It could be because you’re Norm’s sister. Could be because you usually appear so big when he’s resorted to sitting down all day, but now you’re helplessly tiny underneath him, trapped by his arms and head. Or it could just be because he’s an idiot who quashes his feelings rather than gives in to them.
He blinks. Your hips are so high off the boulder that Jake has to bring his arm back down to hold you in place. The less you squirm, the more drawn out he can make it, but he’s acutely aware of the tremor in your legs, the impatient rutting against his lips, the painful hardness under his tewng.
“Sweet,” he grumbles. The word leaves you flustered, and the heat brewing like a bomb against his open mouth begins to rise through your body again. You forget to be quiet as you let out a high-pitched moan, feeling your toes curl in your boots and you desperately finger at your nipple, rolling and tugging on the hardened nub of flesh as Jake pins you tighter against the boulder. He laves his tongue down your cunt towards your entrance, the warm tip of it pushing to the tightened hole that Jake wants more than anything to squeeze himself inside.
“Mf — Jake, come on,” you whimper.
One of his thin brows raises. “You seduced yet?”
“Fuck off. Yes.”
You feel the rumble of his laughter against your pussy. Jake presses a kiss against it and then moves his mouth to the soft skin of your inner thigh.
“I never let a woman go without making her cum,” Jake says, his voice muffled against your leg. He feels you quiver beneath him, and his grin widens. “You wanna at least cum first, right?”
“Please, Jake—”
A startled cry of pain rips from your throat when Jake gently sinks his teeth into your leg — Jake knows his own strength and pulls back before he can draw blood, glancing at the red outline of his teeth imprinted into your leg, a ridged ring of saliva in his wake. Your head is lifted entirely to gape at him, and he looks at you with a coy expression.
“Did you just bite me?”
He smirks. “Accident. Sorry.”
“Yeah right.” Your legs shift slightly around him, but Jake can smell the twisting agony of pleasure leaking out of you — he’s never been more thankful for his Na’vi body and its strange sense of smell than he is now, to be able to pick up on the need you try to hide from him, a scent he actually understands. Normally he can admire your determination, but right now, he’s more concerned with finding out how to break down your walls and unravel you the way he knows you’ve been wanting him to for the last two months.
He smooches the bite one more time, his ears pricking when you whimper out a sort of desperately small sound and say, “Come on, Jake. You got me out here, don’t torture me about it.”
“Me eating your pussy not enough for you?” he asks smugly. He knows it would be more than enough — call him conceited, but he’s sort of an expert on it by now.
You don’t say much, nothing worth noting, at least. Jake’s ears are tall as he lifts his head slightly, but his thumb continues to rub up and down your slit, carefully smoothing over your swollen clit almost sympathetically.
“Please,” you beg in such a small and desperate voice that Jake smiles at the sound. You see his eyes flutter, half-lidded, as he cocks his head to the side until his temple is against your knee.
“Hm? You just wanna say please and get it over and done with?” Jake mutters. “You can’t take any more of my fingers?”
“Don’t be a prick,” you whimper. “You want it, too.”
You feel that unkind heat simmer over you again, but not for the reason you expect. Jake blinks at you lazily, like an unimpressed cat, and then you watch as his eyes curve into crescent moons, the slint of gold virtually glowing in the Pandoran night. Then, the fucker smiles again, looking so smug that you feel embarrassed somehow, caught under his gaze.
“Yeah, I do,” agrees Jake. “I’ve been wanting you a long time.”
“Then, come on,” you urge. Something excited claws at you, and you feel your heartbeat race when he lifts himself slightly. “Come on, big guy. You got me out here, you win.”
He swells with pride, pleased by what is leaving your mouth in a flustered flurry.
“You think you can take me all by yourself?” he asks, his hands coming to rest on your knees as he turns his gaze back to the clenching hole between your legs. Jake looks almost thoughtful as he stares at you, as if analysing. “You could only just take two fingers.”
For such an intelligent woman, Jake finds himself amazed when you look anxious about that statement. What, do you really think he’ll just give up and go? Jake doesn’t care if it takes all night to get himself up your snatch, because no matter what, he’ll get himself in there.
He sniggers when your mouth flounders like a little fish, your tank sliding with the angle of your body back down over your tits, but then he tuts and reaches back to pull it up. In fact, he decides it’s better off, and he uses one finger to pull the whole thing up to your chin, and lets you suffer in an anxious string of actions — you tug the tank up over your head, eyes wide, lip pouting.
“Wanna try?” Jake asks, if not to speed along the increasing agony of his hard cock tenting under his tewng then just to put you out of your misery. “Or should I go back for seconds?”
“Jake…” Your chest rises and falls as you gape at him. He went through all the trouble to get you here, and although you never expected to look at Jake’s avatar and feel a throb between your legs, you can’t even look at him without feeling overcome with the terrible, pressing desire to squeeze whatever weapon he has under his loincloth into your cunt. Jake watches your eyes look down at the darkness between his legs, to the pretty band of string tied around his middle, and then looks back at you with a sickeningly sweet expression.
“Aw, honey. You want me to fuck you?”
It takes an incredible amount of effort not to scowl at him. Jake is lucky he looks so attractive with your arousal around his lips, otherwise you’d be up off the boulder and marching back to the labs for being so unbelievably full of himself.
But even though he’s double your size and consumed by a cocky smugness from being able bodied and towering over you, you can’t think of enough reasons to warrant your leave. The only things on your mind are how much it’ll hurt to get him inside you, and how good it’ll feel once he is.
“That’s why you brought me here, after all, isn’t it?” you murmur, your lips curved slightly when he bows his body over you, his hands flat against the boulder on either side of your waist. “You’ve been thinking of me, right? Oeyä sayrìp tsamsiyu — you must have thought about this every time you went and found me a flower, right?”
Jake’s smile turns wolfish. “Yap, yap, yap.”
You all but whine underneath him. It is so unbecoming of you to be so desperate for something that you resort to writhing like a brat, but with Jake just straddling over you without doing anything, you feel the eager feeling of want coiling in your lower stomach. Your hole clenches around the air, as if trying to feel for Jake’s fingers again, and you lift your hips up off the boulder as if to entice him.
He barely even looks down at you, which only infuriates you more.
For a moment, you wonder if the only reason he lured you out here was to satiate a desire of his own; maybe he just wanted to prove that he still had what it took to make a woman beg for him — though he needn’t have tried so hard, considering you’d have writhed and whined for him just as much, if not more, had he just made it known that he knew about and returned your feelings sooner.
But having you touch him in an impossible silence in the shared bunks pales in comparison to now, to having you look so small and soft and inviting; for you to beg for him, to let yourself be ravaged by him in all of his strength. Why would he prefer to have you while he feels useless when he can make the most of the strong, brawny and big body his brother passed down to him?
Jake breathes deeply through his nose and chews on the inner skin under his lips. You watch in the dark as his tail coils, his ears flat, until he lowers his body down like he’s doing a press up and pushes his nose against your sternum.
“You smell so pretty, baby girl,” Jake mutters, pressing a kiss against the skin sloping between your tits. Biting your lip does little to suppress the moan that spills out when Jake cups one of his hands around your breast, and you hold the back of his hand as he gently squeezes.
The hanging cloth of his tewng brushes past your pussy and you jolt in surprise, just in time for Jake to bring his mouth down over your other boob. The sheer size of Jake dwarfs every feature of yours, but something about your tiny size only excites him more.
With his lips wrapped around your tit, you try your hardest to muffle another moan at the feeling of his tongue toying around your nipple, desperately trying to find something to focus on that isn’t the absurdly good feeling of Jake’s mouth or the tewng brushing past your pussy every time Jake rocks his hips backwards and forwards.
You clench your hand over his, feeling your legs squirm around him as his sharp teeth scrape against the squishy curve of your breast. Fear should rip through you when you feel his teeth tighten around the top of your tit, but it doesn’t; instead, a rush of warm excitement burns you from the inside out when Jake’s cheeks hollow, sucking a purple blot into your skin.
“Hey—” you say cautiously, but the damage is already done. It’s as if Jake’s determined to make you the same shade as him; the mark he leaves is blooming and bright, and he looks all too proud of himself when he looks up in acknowledgement of your voice. His tail thrashes excitedly.
“Leaving that so everyone can see what you were doing when they wake up,” Jake explains, licking a strip from the swelling bruise to your neck for good measure. “My dirty scientist.”
That is if you ever make it back to the lab in one piece.
Feeling the pleasure spreading across your body, you’re half contemplating staying here on this rock forever, hoping that Norm or Grace never come back here looking for samples only to find your corpse. You’re overcome with a conflicting contrast of emotions — you suddenly feel so exposed, so unraveled, half guilty for encouraging Jake to shove his big blue fingers up your crotch, and even guiltier about the fact that you want more from him.
“Enough. Come on,” you huff, and Jake dips his attention back to the rutting of your hips, the glossy shine of your arousal. “While I’m wet.”
“You really think I’m gonna let you dry up before I can get inside you?” Jake asks, as if the idea is beneath you both. “Have some confidence in me, Spellman.”
“I do. Full confidence. So, come on, gimme.”
Jake grins; he leans his weight up on one knee and in the light, you can just about see the protruding point of his tewng and feel your desire pooling. It’s only when Jake undoes the string around his waist and frees what hides beneath that you start to feel your body tense unexpectedly; it is beyond you how Jake has managed to keep the spear he calls his cock hidden for so long, and even more unthinkable as to how it will fit inside of you.
You stare at it with wide eyes. Meanwhile, Jake holds the base of it with his hand and assesses the space between your legs again. When he guides the tip to your folds and strokes himself up and down, you feel your heartbeat quicken and your legs turn like jelly.
“You like it?” he asks, ever so sweetly, as if it’s a new gift brought back for you to enjoy. In a way, it is a gift, something for you to sample. Jake’s body seems to vibrate with nothing short of delight at the speechless state his dick has left you in — and he hasn’t even put it in yet.
“Big, right?” he continues to ask, a smirk on his face.
All you can say is, “how do you walk around with that thing?”
He barks out a laugh, his head tilted to the stars as his smirk widens. Jake then pushes the tip against you again with his thumb, choking down his amused sniggers as he drags himself up and down your cunt, and more than anything, he wishes he could see your face better in the moonlight. Luckily, Jake’s spent hours staring at you in his wheelchair to be able to piece together the smudges of your features he can see in the reflection of light hanging over the front of your mask. And what he can’t see, he’ll hear, and what he’s not satisfied with not seeing he’ll seek from you again later.
“It’ll be a tight fit,” Jake thinks out loud, prodding the tip of his cock against your entrance and looking up at you once you whimper, “but I know you can take it.”
“I dunno… Looks kind of big—”
“You can fit it in,” he tells you confidently.
But now you’ve seen it, you’re slightly nervous. “What if I can’t—?”
“You were just begging me for it,” Jake says pointedly. “While I’m wet, you said.” Then, he leans forward so that the wide slope of his nose is pushed against the front of your mask. “I don’t care if it takes all night trying. I’ll help you fit it all in, okay?”
You breathe in sharply, feeling your hips grinding up against him. Jake tries to find sympathy for you; he supposes that if he were you and some ten foot Na’vi was trying to burrow his cock between his legs, he’d be apprehensive too.
“Just…” you rasp, watching him desperately, and he waits kindly, though his tip is on the verge of being swallowed by your cunt. Your legs tremble when he smiles at you, one hand on his cock, the other flat against the boulder. “Just go slow, okay?”
The way he looks at you is as if you’ve just said something stupidly endearing. “Sure thing, Spellman.”
Jake does his best to keep up his presented facade of coolness, but you feel so warm and wet, his arm begins to shake as he supports his weight on the boulder, grunting when he aligns his cockhead with your hole and very slightly pushes in. Even though he only just had his fingers up there, he can feel your pussy resisting, and it’s only the tip.
Your mouth hangs open with a pained whine, the stretch uncomfortable but in spite of it, you arch your back as if trying to feel more of him inside of you.
“Easy,” he chuckles, very slowly pushing more of himself into your pussy. The noises from your mouth grow louder, and something proud purrs in his chest. His tongue pushes against the inside of his lower lip as he smirks, teeth showing, as he makes an almost amused groan. You’re insanely tight, and unbelievably squishy and wet — and hey, it’s been five years for him, too.
“Yeah,” Jake groans, pushing his hips further and pulling out, each stroke gentle and tentative. He wants more than anything to go rough, to make you mewl and cry and curl up against him, but the tearful look on your face makes him reconsider. Each time he sinks in a little bit deeper, softening the resistance of your walls as they make room for him.
It takes an incredible amount of self restraint to stop himself from shoving all of it in at once; you’re so tight, the tightest pussy he’s ever felt closing around his cock, and easily the best. Jake closes his eyes for a second, honing in on the squeezing clench around his cock and the unnerving, uncharacteristic silence leaving your gaping mouth.
“Talk to me, Spellman,” Jake groans, inching deeper inside. His ears perk again when you cry as he sinks in deeper. “Say something.”
“You told me I talked too much,” you manage out, admirably trying your hardest to remain quiet despite the pushing twelve inches of Na’vi cock up your cunt. Jake’s barely even inside of you; more of his dick is out than it is stuffed inside.
“I love hearing you talk,” replies Jake, even though he had just poked fun at your ability to talk someone’s ear off. Had he known it would swear you into silence now, he’d have never said anything. What Jake wants now most of all is to hear your voice again, hear your pleasure, your instructions, your pleas.
Hearing you slip out a high pitched moan when he pushes more of his cock inside of you feels like a reward almost.
“Could listen to you yap away all damn day,” he murmurs quietly, his eyes finding yours behind the glaze of the exo-pack. “I know you’ve always got something to say, so why’re you so quiet all of a sudden?” Jake’s grin brightens when you manage to suck in more of his length, “Talk to me, baby, tell me what you want, hm?”
“Just… Put it in,” you whimper, and his eyes widen excitedly.
“You said to go slow.”
“I know what I said, but I need more.” Your eyes are so blown open he’d laugh if it didn’t look so goddamn sexy. “Please, Jake.”
“You sure?” he croons.
“Mm. Please — come on, please—!”
Jake snaps his hips forward so quickly that more than half of dick disappears inside of you, and the primal noise that leaves your mouth takes Jake completely by surprise.
“Fucking shit, mama,” Jake groans, his voice rasped as he bows his chest over yours, dropping to his forearm on the boulder as he adjusts to the warmth enveloping him. “Holy shit.”
You swallow a deep breath, your hands gripping tightly to Jake’s shoulders which forces his eyes to your face. He can make out the distinct shimmer of tears under your eyes, and he brushes his fingers across the side of your neck, tapping you to bring your eyes open and searching for him in the dark.
“You with me?” he asks, chuckling slightly. “You good?”
“Oh my god,” you squeal, cunt clenching. “Wait—”
“Breathe,” Jake says quietly, pressing a kiss to the swollen bruise he sucked into your skin earlier. “You can do it, pretty girl.”
“Keep moving, it hurts when you just stay still.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mutters, his hips falling back into a slow rhythm to keep you adjusted to his twitching cock. It’s almost disturbing how easily you’re taking him now he’s forced more of his length inside, how wet and responsive you seem to be as he sinks deeper into you.
At first, Jake goes slow, familiarising himself with every noise you give him, every twitch and shift in your body, every clench around him. You feel the smooth ridges of his cock kissing your insides, the sensation unfamiliar and strange but so fucking good. He snakes one hand under your back when you lift up off the boulder; his large palm is flat against the arch of your spine, his fingers curled around your hip.
You look like a toy underneath him, something he could easily just hold with one hand and fuck himself up into.
His hips snap again, faster than he intended, and more of his dick disappears inside of you. You could easily take all of him if he took his time getting you to that point, but the warmth wrapping around him like a glove is so sinful that he can’t think of anything less appealing than going slow. He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth and squeezes your waist with his hand; one desperate little cry from your mouth later, and Jake forgives himself for having waited so long to get you in this position, to fuck you stupid.
It’s been so long since Jake’s been able to fuck a woman like this, and for his first time since his accident to be with you, of all people — well, Jake could think of no greater victory, no better reward for all the shit he’s endured so far.
He stares down at the gap between your legs, watching as his dick vanishes and reappears with every rock of his hips. You’re taking it so well, like a champion. Pride blooms in his chest — he’d expect nothing less from his woman.
Pulling your hips down slightly to meet him as he thrusts up, Jake shoulders the control and moans in a low tone, pushing until he feels your body seize underneath him. Then, he pulls back, falls back in, and gets himself comfortable.
The stretch no longer burns the way it did, but you feel as though you can barely breathe as Jake ruts his hips up. He’s so big in every definition of the word. He doesn’t seem to notice nor care about the deep indent of your fingernails in his shoulder; he seems entirely devoted to gaining momentum, creating his own pace with his ears flat against his bowed head.
“God… Jake,” you moan, feeling the slight point of the boulder against your shoulder blades and his hand squeezing your middle as you finally speak, after what feels like eons of silence to Jake.
He latches his gaze to the rise and fall of your breasts as he fucks you, his breathing heavy. “Oh, you like that?”
Ever so slightly, he hastens his pacing, eliciting a tearful sob from your mouth. “Mmf—”
“Is it everything you hoped for?”
His stomach churns when you laugh, albeit with a strangled kind of tone, and clench around his cock again.
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“So’re you,” he points out, lifting his chest slightly to glance down at your stomach. It should be criminal how turned on he feels by the sight of his own dick outlined in your lower tummy — it should be criminal how insanely good it feels knowing he’s fucking a part of you nobody else has before. You’ve lost all self control as you decide to let yourself be noisy, which Jake is all too pleased to hear.
Peering down at your hips, you marvel at the sight of Jake’s frightening length pushing up against your stomach. It looks just as weird as it feels. Jake hisses and runs a hand across the spot his dick is hitting.
“Feel that?” he asks. He knows you do. It’s a stupidly dumb question, but you whine at it all the same. “I told you it would fit. Look at you, taking it all, no problem.”
“Mhm. Feels good; so, so, so good, Jake…” Your body feels limp and tingly, and you let your head fall back so your gaze is pointed up at the sky. Even as you blink dazed up at them, they have the striking appearance of Jake’s skin, the dark blue wash of sky with littered balls of bright white light. The image of him is printed on your mind, and no matter where you look to avoid his gaze, you find him again.
Jake shifts. Keeping his dick sliding in and out of you with more of an upbeat rhythm than before, he bows his chest back over yours and brings his ears close to your ear.
“A perfect fit for my perfect girl,” he mutters. He becomes so reliant on his one hand on the boulder when he uses the other to hold your leg up around his waist, bringing forth an entirely new burn from the stretch of it. His breath is warm on your ear, making you shudder. “How long you been waiting for me, baby?”
You scoff disbelievingly, trying to think of something to say despite your mind being both full and empty at the same time. All you can think about is the building pressure in your tummy.
“Long,” you offer, snaking a hand up his neck to the back of his head.
Jake licks his tongue across the arch of skin connecting your neck to your collar. “Thinking of me with your fingers up your cunt at night, huh?” His hand squeezes around your middle when you begin to shift with his thrusts further up the boulder. Even with your loud cries in his ear, Jake can hear the squelching wetness around his cock, the tightening spasms around his length bringing him closer to giving in to the dull ache in his own stomach. “Bet you wheelchair Jake Sully couldn’t make you feel like this. Next time you get off to the thought of him, I want you to think of what we’re doing right now, about who’s got you feeling this way.”
“How…how do you even know about that?” you gasp, half pleasured by his thrusting and half horrified by the revelation that Jake might have been privy to the fact you masturbated with him in mind when everyone went to bed at night.
Actually, he didn’t know. But he sniggers smugly that his teasing jeer turned out to be true.
Jake presses a kiss to your collar and peppers a line of them up until he is thwarted by the mask covering your face. Peering down at your face hidden behind it, Jake gives you a sad pout and says, “I wanna go fast.”
“I…” you start, his hips already moving and you feel the heat simmering below again. Anymore from him, and you’ll be finished, cumming all over him. “I don’t think… I’ll — I’m gonna—”
“Then let’s get it done,” he says with as much finality and refine as he can muster before he picks himself back up, finding the energy he had before to pin you down against the boulder. You keep your leg wrapped around his waist as he sets one hand down over your tummy, the other on your shoulder, and then the real fun begins for him.
Jake isn’t ignorant to the twisting ache inside of him — like you, he knows he probably doesn’t have that much longer until he’s completely tuckered out and ready to fill you up. What can he say? It’s been a long time, and he doesn’t have the same kind of stamina as he used to. You’re tightening up around him in anticipation; it’s like being gripped in a vice.
He pulls his hips back and then pistons himself back in with so much speed that you almost fly up off the boulder in surprise. Too fast, he thinks, so he gets accustomed to a regular fast pace and sticks to it loyally. In return, he’s rewarded with a litany of pretty sounds, your hands curling around his arms, desperately trying to hold on.
“Yeah, oh yeah,” Jake groans, feeling your cunt fluttering around him as he fucks in and out, slipping in and out of your wetness as if he owns it. The hand that’s pressing your shoulder slips to your throat, and while he doesn’t squeeze, you claw your fingers around his and feel his grip tighten ever so slightly.
“Fuck!” you squeal, clamping your eyes closed suddenly. “Shit—Jake, baby—”
He moans at that, really moans. A ringing rises in volume in his ears as his thrusts grow more rapid, relentlessly smacking his hips up until he slides all of his dick inside of you.
God, you’re fucking perfect — he can’t name many women, if any at all, who could take a dick this size with as much ease as you are now. But the increasing pressure in your tummy is so overwhelming that you’re not even too aware of the size of what’s getting comfortable inside of you. All you know and understand is that in the next three seconds, you’ll be seeing white.
Jake’s name falls like a mantra from your lips, and he looks at you in surprise to see that you’ve very bravely opened your eyes to stare at him, although the tears lining your waterline and smeared down your cheeks make your stare look ten times more attractive to him. He almost wishes he hadn’t looked — his hips stagger slightly and he growls, the noise earning him another whiney moan from the undone woman beneath him, the woman he’s committed to filling with his cum and making his.
“I—!” You say nothing — you don’t even have to. Jake feels your cunt strangling his length like a goddamn fist, and by the buffering look of pure ecstasy on your face, he’s fairly certain all of those things mean you’re about to cum.
“Yeah, mama, cum for me,” Jake coaxes. “Lemme feel you.”
The warmth around him clenches, and all of a sudden, your body seizes with a jolt, your back arched so high off the boulder that it leaves him hitting entirely new angles inside of you, pushing your orgasm to a new level.
For you, it feels like you’ve been blown up. Your entire body is consumed by a blazing heat, your legs going immediately limp as you cum around him. Jake’s eyes instantly shift to your quivering hips, to your cunt still swallowing him up, the white dribbles of cum leaking down the length of his cock. He watches the small cluster of glowing freckles decorating his dick disappear behind a rolling drop of your cum and his jaw goes slack.
“My girl,” he crows, his head bowing as he eagerly fucks into you a few more times, muttering the same thing as he does: “Oh, my girl, my pretty girl—”
The hand around your throat rips itself away only to squeeze into your hips, as though Jake intends to leave fingerprints there once he’s done. He grips you tightly and with a monumental and low, throaty moan, he snaps his hips one final time and feels a tug in his tummy.
You probably feel him cum before he does. Jake seems caught up in his thrusts while you register the unmissable burst of warmth inside of you, ropes of cum spilling out as if his sole intention were to breed you, stuff you full of his seed.
In actual fact, Jake just wanted to fuck you silly, fill you with boat loads of cum, and bask in the evil satisfaction of watching Norm smell Jake all over you, claiming you as his.
“Mm—fuck, Jake!” you rasp, squeezing your little hands around his wrists. The feeling is enough to bring him up to the surface he was drowning under, the ringing in his ears dulling as he catches his breath and opens his eyes, staring down at the embarrassingly wet mixture of cum and juice between your legs.
He stays inside of you for a moment, his dick still hard and even more pronounced up your cunt than it was before, and it’s as if his eyes are unfocused in absolute awe as he observes the sight of you stretched open, locking him in place greedily.
It sinks in that you managed to fit all of him in, that he just used his avatar to fuck you in the forest behind the lab. You. Norm’s sister. The object of his desire. The woman of his literal dreams.
Jake lets out a loud and heavy breath, a sigh of relief, and rubs his palms up and down your stomach gently. Despite having had him fucking you just seconds before, you feel a heat flush over your face when he looks up at your face, sweaty and tear-stained under the exo-pack, and he grins wolfishly.
“You’re incredible,” he laughs, which makes the act of looking at him feel ten times more rewarding. Your body warms with the praise: all you’ve wanted was for Jake to like you back, and now, to be full of his cum and knowing he thinks you’re incredible… You laugh with him.
A few disbelieving laughs later, and Jake finally moves his hands under your thighs and slowly pulls himself out of you. The bump of each ridge along his length knocks past you, and Jake stifles a howl of laughter at the whiney, high-pitched moan you make as his cock pulls out of you with a slick, wet pop. He cranes his head slightly to watch his cum pool out of you and you pick yourself up on your forearms, looking for his dick between his legs to have a final peek, a good look at him covered in your cum and his…
Your eyes widen. “Your cum glows.”
Jake raises his eyebrows. “What? Scientist of Pandora didn’t know Na’vi cum glowed?”
“I haven’t exactly had a selection of Na’vi men or women to tell me that it did!” you reason, your eyes still marvelling curiously at the shiny soft blue stain over the hanging fruit between his legs.
He hums, poking a finger against your folds and smirking when you flinch. “Hm. Put that in your research notes. Wanna take samples?”
“Fuck off,” you laugh, keeping your legs wide as you struggle to sit upright. The discomfort between your legs is suddenly making itself known, and already the cum around your pussy and thighs is drying, sticky and thick. “Jesus, Sully. Look at me.”
“I know,” grins Jake, his eyes soaking up the image of you. “You’re fucking sexy.”
You roll your eyes with a twisting smile. While Jake seems incredibly fascinated with the marks he has either left accidentally or on purpose over your body, you groan and roll your shoulders. Frankly, you wish Jake had just thrown you down on the grass and fucked you there — in hindsight, the boulder had been a bad idea and you know it will come to haunt you in the morning.
Lazily, and yet with a rush of shame and exhilaration, you glance back at the lab, sitting in the curve of moonlight and caged by bioluminescent flowers and shrubs, each glowing vibrant spectrums of cyan and purple and lime.
“You’re the luckiest woman alive if nobody heard you yapping,” Jake says playfully, rising upright to stretch the agonised muscles of his legs. “You’re so noisy, honey.”
“I apologise for not thinking too much about the volume of my voice,” you drawl sarcastically, your eyes still glued to the glazed thick glass windows looking into the back of the lab. Anxiously, you glance at him, “Was I that loud?”
He gives you a tight, sympathetic smile. You frown.
“You weren’t quiet yourself, you know,” you grumble, feeling the pinch in your back ease slightly.
“Yep.” And he seems smug about that fact, for reasons beyond you, although you wager a guess as to why he seems proud all of a sudden.
As you shuffle awkwardly off the boulder, you wince as you lean for your shorts and panties, dropping a little look at the sliding dollop of cum slipping out of you.
“You gotta keep it in there,” Jake says.
“Jake, as soon as I stand up and walk around, it’s all gonna come pouring out anyway.”
His lip curls with disappointment as he watches his cum drip out of you onto the edge of the boulder, splatting on the wisps of grass around your ankles. It’s a good thing he’s full of copious reserves of cum to give back to you another time.
“Can’t wait for Norm to get a whiff of me,” Jake tells you, and you fight the urge to sigh and roll your eyes, because of course — of course that had been a motive for the gallon of glowing blue sperm Jake just squoze into you. “The look on his face when he figures out I’ve been breedin’ his little sister—”
“I have never been more thankful of the fact that Na’vi and humans can’t reproduce together. Hand on my heart, I mean that.”
You slide your shorts and panties back up your legs and reach for your thrown tank top. The inconspicuous smudges of green from the boulder across the back of it fill you with a puny drop of dread — you’ll just pray really hard to both God and Eywa that nobody pays it any mind.
That and the bulbous bruise on your tit, the bite on your leg, the finger indents on your hips.
“I was doing that thing you were doing. Killing two birds with one stone,” Jake says as he searches the ground for his tewng. “Fucking you ‘cause I wanted to and fucking you because I know wanting you is gonna piss off your annoying big brother.”
You had said that, hadn’t you? And even though the entire scheme of Jake wanting to scorn your brother so badly that he has to use you as a human fuck-toy seems ludicrous, you can’t deny the very minuscule jolt of thrill it gives you. It would be fun to piss Norm off a little bit. He has been a total arse lately.
“Norm’s all you think about,” you tease. “You sure you don’t like him instead?”
“Shut up.”
Jake hands you your cardigan with an amused smile, his tail whipping to and fro happily.
“Your coat, ma’am.”
“Love how you only have one thing to slip back into,” you point out as you take the cardigan from him, and he reaches for the tewng and chuckles. “You could’ve just lifted it up.”
“Could’ve, would’ve, didn’t,” he replies.
There’s an uncharacteristic silence between you both as you climb back into your clothes, and while Jake fiddles with his tewng with his tongue between his lips, you look back at the lab and sigh.
Somewhere in that lab is the man you’ve been thinking of for two months — Jake in his human form, lying in a link unit as he takes control through another body. You wonder what he might think when he wakes up: will he come searching for you in the dark? Come kiss you, tell you how he feels?
Jake creeps up to you with an alarming light foot, and the feeling of his hand on top of your head makes you look up suddenly.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks.
“You,” you sigh, looking back at the lab. “Are you going to follow through with tonight when you’re back as yourself, or is this an avatar Jake exclusive?”
“Come on. You still want that loser in there?” Jake feels his heart tug — he doesn’t know if to feel offended that you’re still thinking of someone else, or flattered because that someone else is technically him, the real him, the version of him that Jake hates the most.
“You’re so mean to him,” you grumble. Then pause, and add, “To you. That’s literally still you in there. If anything, doesn’t that make me look a little bit obsessed?” Jake gently pushes your head as you fall into a slow walk in the direction of the remote lab. “Wow. Actually, I just realised that’s true.”
“Finding out that you liked me was the only reason I started spending more than five minutes at a time in the lab,” Jake tells you.
“Who told you?”
You both accept a short silence as you stride past the wall that most of the bunks are built against, and you feel an anxious knot forming in your stomach when the clearing at the front of the lab expands into view.
“I meant it when I said you were horrible at hiding your crush on me,” Jake reminds you.
Right.
The tsawksyul Jake found you is thankfully still where you left it, and you slip out of Jake’s touch to fetch it from under the window, but when you turn to him, his eyes are pulled back across the miles of suspended mountains.
“You have somewhere else to be?” you call.
His top lip curls into a half pout as he says, “Not now. But tomorrow I’ve got to do some hunting. If I make a clean kill, I start my iknimaya.”
“Impressive,” you comment, twirling the tsawksyul between your fingers. “You… Will you be gone long?”
Jake hesitates for a moment. Is he reading into it, or are you looking a little bit more crestfallen now you know he’ll be gone for a little while longer?
“Why, you wanna go again?” he asks with a laugh.
“Respectfully, I think my vagina is broken and I need to lie down,” you quip, making him laugh even more. “I was just…curious. If you’re gone too long, I’ll be asleep before you get back.”
Jake creeps towards you and drops to a painful crouch. He’s definitely going to feel the cry and protest in his legs in the morning from being haunched for so long. Still, he frames your face with his hands and takes a long look at your face.
“I’ll roll past your bed extra quietly,” he promises.
You snort and push yourself away from him. “Safe travels, big guy. I’ll see you in the morning?”
Peering up at him, you breathe in the sight of him one last time as he nods once and rises to stand. The long shadow drawn by his lithe figure falls over you.
“Affirmative,” he states. You look up at him for a second and smile. Did it take having his cock in your stomach for you to realise how pretty he is like this, or have you known all along?
“Go,” you tell him, nodding towards the edge of the cliff before turning to the door. Over your shoulder, Jake scoffs a laugh and turns on his heels, his eyes scanning the mountain range as he approaches the edge.
The bravery you had before died long ago and you quickly twist the air-lock to the door and force it open, your heart in your throat. You don’t look back at him, even when he looks back at you with an endearing smile on his face.
The lab is deathly silent when you slide back inside. You were half expecting someone to stir at the sound of the door sealing shut, but if anyone’s awake, they make no effort to show it. Tip-toeing to the small bathroom, you very hurriedly go about your business and wipe away the eternal flood of cum from between your legs. With the amount Jake just put inside you, you’re fairly confident that even a human with an average sense of smell could sniff him all over you.
The long stalk back to your bunk is made silently and carefully. Norm is fast asleep on the top bunk he unhappily shares with Jake, the aforementioned’s bunk empty and cold, the link unit whirring quietly. Just the sight and sound of it makes you unnaturally nervous, and you turn to speed towards your bottom bunk and peer at Trudy. She’s out like a light.
The thin blanket is pulled to your chin once you settle in the sheets, and you refuse to accept that it’s cowardice you feel when the sound of the link unit slowly begins to fade and Jake hauls himself out with a pained groan. You remain very still as he fumbles for his chair, though you fight the urge to get up, help him and while you’re at it, kiss him until he can’t breathe.
You hope your acting has improved since your terrible attempts of hiding your crush and try to make it look as though you’re asleep, but the distinct sound of rolling wheels makes its way towards where you sleep; you steady your breaths so it looks like you’re out of it, and perhaps Jake will fall for it this time.
Your stomach tightens when the wheels stop next to your bed, and you’re uncomfortably aware of the set of eyes staring at you curled up and facing the wall.
Jake’s hand brushes the back of your head gently, and you’re not sure if that means you’ve been caught, but then you feel Jake’s fingers brush a section of hair away from your neck and nearly sigh at the feeling of his mouth pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. It is so sweet, so fond and gentle, and annoyingly quick. He pulls away and the sound of wheels roll towards his own bunk.
Every sound he makes feels like it’s right in your ear.
You almost wish you’d rolled over and took his face into your hands. But Jake’s smooch against your nape feels like a stolen secret, something shared between only you two, something special.
No matter, you think as you wriggle to get comfortable. He’ll be there in the morning. And it’ll be the man you’ve wanted the entire time who wants you back who receives all your stirring desires.
