quinn♡

︶⊹︶︶⠀୨୧⠀︶︶⊹︶ ۫ 𐑺 blk ˑ ⌕ 20 ࣭ ᘐ ◞ ꜝꜞ tyler & michael fan ˳ 𓏲 ˑ ︶⊹︶︶⠀୨୧⠀︶︶⊹︶

[sadsurferrr]

────── FLOWERS AND FASCINATION

THRILLER!MICHAEL JACKSON X READER working on the set of michael's new short film for thriller, he quickly became infatuated the moment he saw you. he begins leaving you flowers, until one day, you catch him.

note (fluff) this is potentially cheesy but sorry i think it’s cute. p.s thriller apparently took four days to film, let’s just pretend it took twelve days.

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Michael’s fascination for women runs deep. 

He loves them. But oddly enough he’s never been in a relationship. And he’s never found a woman who’s swept him completely off his feet before. 

Until he met you. 

It was the day that you arrived onto the set for his new short film for Thriller, a light spring in your step and a smile bright enough to rival the studio lights, that a switch flipped in his chest.

You introduced yourself with such candour, expressing your eagerness to work alongside the world's biggest growing artists and equally renowned production team without seeming too overbearing. It didn't take him long to learn that you were both a set and costume designer, and a remarkable one, because every suggestion and alteration was credited to you. 

You work hard. Your focus and determination reminds him of his own, yet you always leave time for people. For conversation between sets with crew members. For laughter to slip past whenever someone cracks a joke. For a smile to light up your face whenever someone praises your ideas. It's simply something he noticed right away, from the second you walked into the room. The quiet confidence in your shoulders, sweeping you across the room with effortless grace and the dedication to create something beautiful and meaningworthy. 

He would catch himself staring at you more often than he should. During scenes. During breaks. During fittings. During moments when he should be paying attention to recalling his dialogue only to have it replaced with the image of you. 

He picked up on the way you would readjust your hair when it would slip out of its hold or how you'd thank an assistant for a cup of coffee during scenes late outside beneath the chill of the winter air. The way you would scribble down sketches with a notepad and a pencil that tucked between your teeth every few moments, or when you would hold up a piece of fabric beneath studio lights with a squint of your eyes to judge its credibility. 

Every movement held such simple warmth and elegance and for that reason he found himself drawn to you in a way he never imagined before.

Now three days have passed since Michael first met you and if he weren't any more dramatic than he already is, he'd argue that you had completely taken control over his mind. You're like a stubborn thought lingering in the back of his head. From the moment the sun stretches into the sky until it would kiss it goodbye, when he's finally settled into bed yet tossing and turning, imagining his arms wrapped around your gooey malleable body as he puckers his lips against the sweet skin of your neck.

And then today, seeing how you've shown up in a pair of sleek black trousers that cinch perfectly at the waist, and a loose navy cardigan that slips from one shoulder to reveal a bare patch of soft skin, he's decided that enough is enough. 

He had to make a move.

But the thing about Michael is that he's shy. Talking to women and occasionally flirting with them was one thing. He could do that. But there's something about you that is quietly intimidating in a way that he can't quite place.

He would have to narrow it down to your casual indifference. Your concentration on stitching a loose button back onto his jacket, your tendency to keep conversations practical with him whenever he'd try to drift into anything personal, your attention on the task at hand whenever he lingers by, sparing a glance in your direction to see if you had noticed him there.

Whatever it was, he assured himself he’d move past it. 

Because Michael likes pretty things. He likes simplicity, gentleness and laughter. 

And that's why he likes you.

“Bill, could you, uh… run to the store for me?”

His bodyguard glances down at him, puzzled as to why Michael has run from the makeup department with half-jelled hair and uneven breaths only to pull him into a quiet corner. Bill's first instance is to believe that he's feeling unwell, leaning over with a touch of concern in his eyes. "Of course, kid. What do you need?"

Michael pauses for a moment, sparing a cautious glance over his shoulder as thought anybody could be lingering close by. "Um, flowers." Bill straightens, his worry melting back into confusion. "White ones, preferably. Pretty ones."

Bill doesn't question it, and Michael doesn't feel the need to expand any further as he rushes back towards the makeup department.

A while passes when his bodyguard finally returns and now it's also a while after Michael had initially planned to present the bouquet of white lilies to you. The day has now wrapped up and he's stripped of the red jersey jacket he once wore, replaced with a pair of slacks and a blue sweater, fingertips brushing over the petals of the delicate flowers as he contemplates his delivery. He's watched you all day on set, a nervous tick in his jaw as the weight of his confession loomed over his head like a dark cloud, threatening to drench him with rain every time his nerves almost slipped through. Thankfully, the tension left his performances unscathed. However he knows if he doesn't act now then that same tension will send him spiraling through the night.

So he decides to leave them hanging out the pocket of your woolen peacoat. 

He's already vanished from the scene and sprinted to the car to head home when you arrive ten minutes later. You're gathering your bag and belongings with a stifled yawn until you stop at your coat, finding a fresh bouquet of white lilies waiting for you. Plucking them from the pocket, you carefully inspect them in your hands, expecting a note, a tag or any sort of indication to reveal who they're from and why they're here. Your short search ends without much luck, and you glance back over your shoulder in case the culprit may still be lingering close by, only to be met with the small stretch of the cloakroom and the dim overhanging lights. 

You're unsure whether they're actually meant for you, or left in your coat pocket accidentally. Regardless, you take them home with you.

The next day you return with the same questions in mind, asking around some of the directors and fellow producers, however again it only renders you nowhere. You decide to shrug it off, simply considering it as a one-off and head back to your work station. This time you find a second bouquet of flowers, a set of white roses, resting happily beside your open sketchbook. 

From there you know that it couldn’t be a coincidence. 

The routine followed as usual the next couple of days. You find a bouquet of pink roses splayed across your usual seat on set, and then a set of purple orchids the following day sitting upright in your bag. Everyone around you quickly became aware of this 'secret admirer' of yours lurking around the set, yet it seemed like there was an unspoken rule where nobody could reveal the culprit. As much as you liked going home with a new set of flowers everyday, it would be nicer to know who the person was. 

The only clue was from John Landis, who began teasing your quiet frustration and hinting that there was only one romantic on the team. But you still had no clue who it could be.

Then finally, on the fifth day, you caught him. 

“Michael?”

Michael freezes on the spot. One hand is already half-hidden in your bag, making space for the other which clutches a bouquet of red roses.

The two of you stay silent for a moment and you can almost hear his shaky breaths from where you're standing after being caught red-handed. Slowly, he turns to face you, swallowing a lump in his throat. "I was... uh, puttin' them somewhere safe."

"In my bag?"

"Yeah?" He shrugs, however it just sounds like he's unsure of his own words. Then his gaze drops to the floor between you. "Um, you weren't supposed to see me doin' that." 

You ignore his comment, taking a step forward. “You’ve been leaving me flowers?” 

His gaze flicks up, finding your own saturated with puzzlement and a hint of admiration peeking through. He retracts his free hand, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "People... throw flowers on stage when they admire someone."

You follow along with his words, taking another step towards him. 

“I just wanted to show that I admired you.” 

The bouquet in his hand, filled with red roses and dotted with baby's breath is evidently the most full set of flowers he's given you this far. And they're red, not white or pink or purple, signifying his growing courage over the last few days and his emotions — a hot, fierce yet passionate longing for you. A fire burning raw in his heart, with you the only source of water to quench it. 

If anything, Michael was the person you suspected the least out of everyone else on set. He's fairly quiet, dedicated to his work and adamant on bringing the images in his mind to real life. You've noticed him just as he's noticed you — how he adjusts his outfit right after you've finished sewing a button, how his conversations seem to drift personal everytime the two of you talk, how he spares a glance in your direction whenever he lingers close, watching you from the corner of his eye. Yet, you had simply brushed them off as part of his calm temperament. You thought he was observant and mildly cautious, a trait that would understandably follow his level of tremendous growing fame.  

But now it’s clear it wasn’t any of that. 

"I can take them back, if you don't like them." You realise his arm has been stretched into the gap between you, holding up the flowers for you to take, but now they're beginning to droop towards the ground as the seconds slip by and you still haven't accepted them. "Actually, I think the florist is shut."

His arm lowers further, the corners of his mouth twitching with precluded dejection until you glide forward, gathering the bouquet from his hands. "No, I love them" You peer down at the elegant roses, bringing them to your nose to capture their scent. A powdery sweetness blended with a crisp, fruity undertone. Michael's lips begin to tug into a smile at the sight. "I love roses, you know. They're my favourite."

"Really?" This time he's taking a step closer to you, and you take the time to breathe in his elegantly carved features. Warm brown skin kissed beneath the dim cloakroom lights, soft pouty lips that leave a trail of sheen along the bottom whenever he tucks them between his teeth, and dark eyes that seem to hold entire conversations without a spoken word, searching yours with quiet serenity instead of confidence. "I'm glad."

Silence stretches between you yet it's comfortable as you bask in the glow of his confession. A weight has been lifted from his shoulders, and he realises maybe it was perfect for you to stumble across his secret routine rather than leaving them anonymously by your belongings everyday. 

You're already only inches away, the bouquet bridging the gap between your bodies like a bridge for the shared admiration between you, when you lean up. You're slowly inching towards his face before you tilt your head, sponging a soft kiss to his cheek. Your familiar scent tangles into the crevices of his brain and the pressure of your lips stays long after you've retreated, a ghost of what was once there. "I'll see you tomorrow, Michael." 

The next day, Michael finds you working away on one of your sketches in a corner. He's noticed that when you're alone it's normally because you need to concentrate, but regardless he approaches you, hands tucked behind his back where he holds another set of roses. You lift your head to find him peering down at you, a boyish inquisitiveness paired with a soft smile. "What're you workin' on?"

"It's just some of the zombie costumes during your dance sequence." You pull the sketchbook up into his view, displaying various bodies drawn with tattered clothing and raggedy shoes. "We just need them to have some form in their fittings. Otherwise they'll just look like a mess."

Michael nods in agreement with your words as you place the sketchbook back onto your knee. "Yeah, looks good." 

You look up at him, catching his hands hidden behind his back and a smile that he tries to hide behind a nibble of his bottom lip. You narrow your eyes in suspicion. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." And then he can't hold back his excitement anymore, his lips peeling into a grin. His hands wrapped around the bouquet twitch once before he peels them from his back, presenting to you a fresh set of pink roses and baby breath. Your jaw drops at the sight. For some reason, after his confession you had expected the flowers to stop, but it seems like he planned the opposite. 

"Aw, Michael!" You take them from his grasp, brushing their petals with the tips of your fingers and bringing them to your nose for a sniff. "They're beautiful! Thank you."

The day after, you're adjusting the cuffs on his red leather jacket before he heads on set, laughing at a story he spills about once tripping up on stage when a fan tried to pull him off, when he pauses abruptly. He leaves the room only to return with a combination of red and white roses, handing them over with a boyish grin and a kiss pressed to your temple. 

On the eleventh day of filming, you find him resting on a chair with a carton of orange juice. Makeup artists dab at his skin whilst he sucks the juice through a straw, his face lighting up as soon as he spots you approaching him. You begin chatting about your respective workloads and progress, and then he offers you a sip of his orange juice to which you playfully roll your eyes at, but then accept. You don't miss the way his eyes don't even falter from you for a second. 

Somewhere along the line, receiving flowers had become your favourite part of the day. However today there was no sight of them. You half-expected Michael to jump out at any given moment with another fresh set, but he never does. Then you check your work desk, your bag, the pocket of your coat — all the places he would've placed them in secret before his confession. 

You don't find any.

And then it hits you that maybe he's forgotten. Or maybe he's been too busy and it's inherently selfish of you to think that he should be taking time out of his already busy schedule to simply buy you flowers. Or maybe he changed his mind about you, which would be the worst outcome considering your feelings had only begun to grow. 

It's the end of the day and you're packing up your belongings at your work station, only to hear a hurried shuffle of feet before they stop behind you. You glance over your shoulder once but then turn completely when you find Michael standing behind you, his shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths, and when you look down you find a slightly crumpled set of white and purple lilies in his hand.

"I'm sorry." He swallows and raises them towards you, a slightly bashful yet exhausted expression written on his face. "I couldn't find the ones I wanted."

You take them anyway because the gesture in itself is enough to win you over. 

Then the final day of filming arrives. The set is buzzing with electricity at the thought of finally wrapping up an exciting yet grueling creative project. One with high expectations that took hours of preparation, cuts and fixing sequences, readjusting set and costume, to produce a result that pleased all faces in the room. In the end, it was worth it. 

And at the heart of it all is Michael. 

His red flaring ambition, partnered with immense dedication to create a short film that no artist has ever attempted before, was evidently the driving force. It's what got everyone through the long days and nights, what kept the good spirits in the air when plans fell through, and what kept you looking forward to arriving on set these past few days. Just to see him, spend time with him, and laugh together.

The director John Landis and a few others sweep Michael from his feet, a surprised yelp falling past his lips that melt into boyish cackles when they begin throwing him into the air like a ragdoll. You're standing with a few others at the side beneath the dark winter sky, chattering away as you discuss upcoming projects or the relief of finally being able to fix your circadian rhythm after working till early mornings, but you can't help but glance over at the interaction with amusement.

You wonder what Michael has planned for you next.

Later when the celebrations have finally died down, he saunters over to you as he attempts to catch his breath, displaying a grin brighter than the stars that gleam above. He steps forward and slides his hands around your waist to pull you flush against him in one smooth motion, your arms slithering around his neck to pull him in tighter. Your head rests against the crook of his neck whilst he does the same, puckering a few kisses to the skin beneath your ear. He's warm and cosy and smells faintly of perfume. Red apples dusted with cinnamon or a piece of burnt toast with a coat of marmalade. 

Pulling back, his eyes pour into you with a sense of relief. Relief to the fact that you can spend time with each other, outside filming sets and long and exhausting days. He's hypnotised by your presence so much that he finds his gaze flicking to your pouty lips, a swipe of lipgloss making them appear shiny beneath the moonlight. He leans in a fraction, just for a taste, eyes fluttering shut briefly, only to open again with a sudden realisation. "Wait here."

And then his warmth is pulling away within a split second for him to jog past the last remaining crew members as they look over at you, smiling at your newfound romance. He disappears from your sight for roughly half a minute before returning, sweeping you off your feet with yet another bouquet of flowers. Roses, and much more than ever before, in white and pinks and red, strategically tangled with baby breaths and the stems tied off with a silky red ribbon.

Arguably the most beautiful bouquet of them all. 

"Michael, you really didn't have to."

"I wanted to. I really like you. You should know that by now." He chuckles lightly at your playful head shake, watching as you take the flowers from his grasp anyway with a murmur of gratitude. "You work hard, and you're good at your job. And..." He trails off when your eyes lift from the bouquet and meet, a bright smile captured on your face. "I don't really do this often, or at all. But I've never felt so drawn to someone before." He takes a step closer to you. "You're like a magnet or somethin'."

You laugh at his words and it's difficult to ignore the twitch in his hands as he nears you. Wanting to touch you, hold you, kiss you, all without a care of who could be watching. Because now the work is over and time is on your side. 

He pauses when you take a step back, a teasing quirk in your brow as you speak. "I have something for you too." 

Trailing close behind, you head into the studio, exchanging small smiles and nods of acknowledgement with the last of the lingering staff before you lead him into the cloakroom. You're shuffling through your bag before pulling out a sheet of paper and handing it over. 

On the paper is him, a sketched portrait of him looking off to the side. Every detail is carved with careful precision — the shadow beneath his cheekbone, the length of his nose and arch of his brows, the curls that tuck behind his ear and the few that gather on his forehead. Then to the side of the page is a simple white lily, the stem cut short to fit the small gap and pressed into the paper. 

"This is... wonderful." His thumb brushes over the pressed petals of the flower. "You kept one."

“I kept all of them.” 

And you're right because back at your apartment, a trail of vases line your windowsills and countertops. White lilies, purple orchids, pink and white and red roses fill up your small living space to remind you of the man who makes you smile every time he hands them to you when you cross paths. 

Michael gathers the bouquet from you and sets the items down beside him, coming in close to collect you between his hands. An arm loops around your waist whilst his palm slides into the side of your hair, his thumb brushing against the soft skin of your cheekbone. Your hands slide up his lean shoulders before wrapping around his neck, noticing how his lips part with a breathy exhale when you lean into his gentle touch. His fingers press against the nape of your neck, guiding you up as your eyelashes flutter, closing and sealing your lips into a kiss. 

His lips are soft and pliable against your own. He pulls back but stays close, resting his forehead on yours before drawing you back in again. Then his mouth parts, a gentle slip of his tongue slipping past your lips and colliding with your own. His grip tightens, tilting his head to further explore your mouth and humming gently when your fingers trail up the back of his neck, tangling into his soft hair. 

You pull back, mirroring his lazy grin before he leans down to peck your lips once more. His forehead rests against yours once again, eyes trained on the shape of your mouth. "You like milkshakes?"

Giggling, you return his action with your lips puckering against his. "I love them."

"Okay, good." He breathes out, fingers tracing along the side of your waist. "There's a twenty-four hour diner not far from here. I wanna take you there. You got a ride? I can get Bill to drive us." Then it dawns upon him that it's incredibly late and by now the sun may be making its first appearances. You're probably tired. "Or I can take you some other time..."

You flick your gaze to his lips once more, leaning in to press your tongues together in another heartfelt sweep before you part. His heart skips a beat when you only smile. "I'd love to go."

gonna put a pause on the fluff for a while now... (send requests?).

© sadsurferrr

[michaeldiary]

　　﹕   (✿˘͈ᵕ˘͈)   ┈  public displays of affection.

  ﹒ ୨୧◞  。bad .ᐟ

  ﹒ ୨୧◞  。summary : well! congratufuckinglations to whoever got to bounce on it during bad era! (it’s you........ bitch.)

  ﹒ ୨୧◞  。before you read : fem reader + pronouns, established relationship, famous!reader, lots of affection and kissing! mentions of babies and marriage, a teeny bit naughty at the very end, they use “patty cake” as a code word for sex. third person and told from an outsider’s view for a large portion of this!

  ﹒ ୨୧◞  。author’s note : surprise! i’m back! i’m trying something new because I think it’s too freaking cute. no y/n or (name). instead, i’ll use (✿) in place of your name. we’ll see how I like it! enjoy! <3

Important people were packed into the same ballroom. From record executives drifting from table to table with drinks in hand to publicists keeping one eye on their clients and the other on the photographers lining the perimeter of the room. Somewhere near the front, a speaker stood behind a podium thanking sponsors who were already checking their watches—it was supposed to be an evening of networking and press photos. And really, it was a beautifully put together event, with round tables dressed in white linen and crystal glasses catching the lights overhead..

But neither of Michael or (✿) seemed.. particularly interested in why they’d been invited in the first place. Sometime throughout the evening, Michael turned his chair toward hers a bit, and it stayed there the rest of the night. His body naturally faced hers, one knee resting against hers beneath the table while his arm draped comfortably across the back of her chair. Anyone trying to get his attention usually had to wait until she finished talking first. Photographers and paparazzi were reminded more than once to keep their attention on the night’s speakers.

And they tried.

For maybe ten minutes before the cameras were back on the couple. It wasn’t an every day treat to see the two biggest entertainers in the world love up on each other like this.

She was forever finding little reasons to touch him, always finding something to do. She’d flatten the front of his jacket after he shifted in his seat, running her fingertips over his lapel checking that it was sitting properly. Every now and then she’d absentmindedly take hold of his tie, giving it the tiniest adjustment before smoothing it back against his shirt. She never interrupted herself, their conversation carried on the entire time with dainty hands working independently while her attention stayed on whatever she was telling him.

Michael didn’t tease her for the public displays of affection, he definitely didn’t stop her either. He just watched her, because he loved having her undivided attention. Sometimes he’d lower his head a little without thinking, making it easier for her to reach him. Or sometimes he’d smile before she’d even touched him because he’d already guessed what she was about to do. It was impossible to miss how happy and giddy he looked letting her fuss over him. The second she would pull her hands away, he found some excuse to bring them back, reaching for her wrist and lacing their fingers together.

Michael and (✿) were like.. obnoxiously happy together. A type of couple everyone swore they couldn’t stand until they spent five minutes around them and realized.. there wasn’t actually anything to dislike. They weren’t loud, or even really showing off. They were just.. relentlessly fond of each other. Every glance turned into a smile. And every one of those smiles turned into one reaching for the other’s hand. Conversations somehow ended with them giggling over something no one else had heard, and honestly? It probably wasn’t even that funny. It was enough to make people groan into their champagne before admitting, very reluctantly, that it was kind of adorable. “Congratufuckinglations!” and “That’s Mama y Papa!” type of thing. One would be absolutely gutted to find out a break up in the blogs because.. you really are supporting and rooting them.

Michael wore his sunglasses indoors, nothing new. She knew when he got around certain people he liked keeping them on but she loved his eyes and often got antsy when she couldn’t see them for too long, telling him he feels “far away” when he feels like this.

At one point her hand drifted toward his face. She slipped a finger beneath the bridge of his sunglasses and gently pushed them up.

Just a little.

She paused there, studying him for a few seconds with an expression somewhere between amusement and affection. Michael looked back, his eyes met hers without hesitation and before long that pretty, pretty smile spread across his face, slow enough that the photographers caught every stage of it. She smiled too, but it felt like it was almost to herself before she eased the sunglasses back into place with gentle hands, straightening them and giving the side of the frame the lightest tap with her fingertip.

Her hand lingered.

Instead of pulling away, it slipped behind his neck, disappearing beneath the curls resting against his collar. Her thumb settled against the warm skin at the nape of his neck and began slow, absent circles. Michael’s shoulders loosened and his head tipped ever so slightly toward her hand, and he stayed there, eyes still on her smiling through whatever story she’d started telling him.

At some point, her leg ended up draped across his. No one quite caught how.

One minute they were sitting side by side, listening with only half their attention as someone across the room addressed the crowd. The next, Michael had gently gathered her leg beneath the table and lifted it across both of his knees. It didn't seem to surprise her as she barely paused in the middle of whatever she was saying, simply shifting in her chair while he settled her leg across his lap with absentminded care.

She pointed toward one of her high heels, lifting her foot just enough to show him whatever had caught her attention. From where the cameras stood, it looked like she was complaining about something. The strap, maybe. The height. She spoke with animated little gestures, eyebrows pulling together in exaggerated frustration while Michael listened with the sort of patient expression he had for stories he’d already heard twice.

Then he chuckled—still smiling as he slipped one hand beneath her ankle, his thumb resting lightly against the inside of it while his fingers curled around the back of her heel. He turned her foot this way and that, inspecting it. Whatever conclusion he reached only seemed to amuse him more.

She gave him a look and her hand landed lightly against his forearm in what was very obviously an attempt to make him stop.

It had absolutely no effect because one thing about Michael, is he’s going to play—all day.

Instead, his thumb began tracing slow circles over the side of her ankle while he gently rolled her foot back and forth in his hand. His other hand drifted higher, smoothing absent strokes over the curve of her calf without a second thought, his fingertips barely grazing the fabric of her dress where it met her skin. He looked completely entertained by whatever she was saying, smiling at her with that familiar grin while she continued fussing, shaking her head and quietly swatting at his wrist again.

From across the room, it looked very much like she was scolding him. “Michael, stop it.”

From the expression on Michael's face, it looked like he intended to ignore every word of it.

He only smiled wider and she tried one last time, pointing toward her shoe again with an expression that suggested she was making an entirely different point than the one he’d decided to hear. Michael glanced dutifully at the heel for all of two seconds before his attention drifted right back to her. His hand never left her leg.

He leaned over in the middle of whatever she was saying, the thought had simply crossed his mind and he’d acted on it before it could disappear. His hand found the side of her face for only a second as he pressed a quick kiss against her lips.

It was over almost as soon as it began.

Except he never really left. He lingered just a few inches away, close enough that their noses nearly brushed. His smile had softened into something like be was endeared, his eyes dropping back to her lips because he’d gotten distracted halfway through pulling away. It looked like it seemed entirely possible he’d forgotten they were sitting in the middle of a ballroom filled with people.

Whatever she’d been talking about stopped mid sentence.

She looked back up at him with the tiniest pout, lips still pursed from the kiss, waiting expectantly because one kiss clearly hadn’t been enough. There was something almost impatient about it, like she’d been interrupted and fully intended on collecting what she believed she was owed before continuing her story.

Michael looked at her for another second then he leaned in again for another quick kiss, even shorter than the first.

She seemed satisfied this time, the corners of her mouth curling upward as she finally settled back into her chair. Before he could pull away completely, though, she caught his chin lightly between her fingers.

Her lip gloss had transferred onto him.

She glanced at his mouth, smiling to herself as the pad of her thumb gently wiped the shine from his bottom lip. Michael stayed perfectly still, letting her fuss over him with the same e endeared expression he’d worn all evening. When she finished, she gave his lip one last absentminded swipe, admiring her work for half a second before dropping her hand back into her lap.

After a couple more hours ballroom slowly emptied around them. Chairs scraped against polished floors, security began guiding guests toward the exits, and the crowd outside had already grown thick behind the barricades. Camera flashes bounced off the glass doors before they were even opened, the waiting photographers spotting familiar faces through the windows and shuffling into position.

Michael stepped out first and she followed a heartbeat later, their hands already intertwined. It was the sort of thing people expected from newly smitten couples, except they’d been together for about a year.

The shouting started immediately.

Questions overlapped until they became impossible to separate.

“Michael!”

“Over here!”

“You look beautiful, (✿) !”

“How was the event tonight?”

She glanced toward the voices first.

“It was lovely,” She answered with an easy smile, giving the crowd a little wave before looking back at Michael as they continued down the sidewalk. He was smiling too, offering a small nod with his sunglasses still sitting high on his nose despite the sun having disappeared hours earlier.

Another photographer called after them. “When are you two tying the knot?”

Oh!

The question caught both of them off guard and she laughed first feeling her cheeks and ear tips get warm. Michael immediately looked down shyly, and the reaction only made everyone around them laugh harder. It was the kind of question they had clearly heard before, but neither of them had mastered the art of pretending it didn’t affect them. She tucked a little closer to his side giggling, while Michael shook his head behind.

Then he looked at her, not fully but just a glance from over the top of his frames. That was enough.

She caught it and immediately smiled at him, because she knew exactly what that look meant. A quiet little check in—a private ESP shared between them before either of them acknowledged anyone else.

“We’re.. enjoying each other’s company right now.” More shouting followed before she’d even finished speaking.

Michael barely heard any of it; the cameras, the questions, the security guards urging them toward the waiting car.

It all blurred together the second she looked at him.

He spent the entire evening watching people watch them, and somehow she still managed to make him feel like there wasn’t another person in the room.

She always answered questions like that with the same diplomacy, never sounding flustered, never embarrassed, never trying to turn their relationship into a spectacle. She gave people enough to satisfy them, then quietly closed the door before anyone could step inside. He admired that about her. More than admired it. He relied on it.

She squeezed his hand once as they walked.

He squeezed back.

Without thinking, his thumb found the side of her hand, tracing the same slow path it always did whenever they walked together. It had become such a habit that he doubted either of them noticed anymore.

He looked down at their hands for a second and back at her. She was still smiling to herself. He wondered if she’d realized she’d called them “each other’s company.”

The words echoed around in his head with ridiculous persistence.

Each other’s.

It sounded.. nice. His smile crept back before he could stop it.

She caught it. “What?”

He only shook his head.

Nothing. He just liked the way she’d said it.

The ride back to their hotel passed in comfortable silence.

Every so often she’d catch him looking at her and smile to herself, smoothing a thumb over the back of his hand where it rested between them. He’d answer by bringing her knuckles to his lips for the quickest kiss before setting her hand back down again, he also couldn’t seem to go more than a few minutes without finding a reason to touch her.

By the time they reached the hotel, the suite was quiet.

She slipped off her heels the moment they stepped inside, leaving them abandoned beside the entryway with a relieved sigh. Michael laughed under his breath as he loosened his bow tie, setting his sunglasses on the coffee table.

He settled onto the couch, shoulders finally relaxing against the cushions, only for her to wander over a moment later with a glass of red wine in one hand.

She climbed onto the couch and settled across his lap, one knee rested on either side of him and her dress spilled over his legs while she balanced her wine glass carefully in one hand. Her free hand found his face almost immediately, fingertips traced the edge of his jaw.

Slowly. Back and forth.

He tilted into her touch without thinking.

She turned the stem slowly between her manicured fingertips while Michael continued looking at her with the same dazed and smitten look he hadn’t managed to shake all evening.

“You want some?” She asked.

Instead of reaching for the glass, he leaned forward.

Tilting the glass carefully, she brought the rim to his lips. Michael took a small sip, never taking his eyes off her as the wine touched his mouth. She steadied the glass until he leaned back again, swallowing before the corners of his mouth lifted.

“Yummy?”

He nodded once.

She was already lowering the glass when his hand settled lightly around her wrist, stopping her just long enough for him to lean in.

Their lips met again.

The kiss was slow and lazy. She smiled into it, her free hand sliding back to his jaw while he tipped his face toward hers. There was still the faint taste of red wine between them, sweet and warm, lingering just enough for her to recognize it before she kissed him again.

When they finally separated, they stayed close, noses brushing.Outside, the city hummed beneath their windows.

“..What are you thinking about, Bambi?” She asked quietly.

Michael’s eyes stayed on hers for another moment before drifting down to the stem of her wine glass, then back again.

“Oh, I dunno..” He blushed, embarrassed by the thought now that he had to say it out loud. “Could you see yourself marrying me, really?”

She stared at him for a second then giggled, he’d managed to ask the question with the same shy clumsy he’d had when he first asked her to be exclusive and official with him.

Her hand slid into his curls at the nape of his neck.

She leaned down and kissed him. It was unhurried, warm, lingering just long enough to make him forget he’d asked anything at all.

When she finally pulled back, their foreheads stayed close.

“Michael, I’ve been hoping you even consider me to be wife material..” She murmured.

“You have?”

She laughed again, this time unable to stop herself, brushing her thumb across his cheek as his grin slowly spread from one corner of his mouth to the other. “Of course.. there’s no one else who understands me the way you do. And I want to be someone you feel safe enough to marry..”

He looked completely delighted. “And babies?”

“As many as you want..” She pecked his lips. “Should we.. get in some practice tonight? Prepare for the real thing..”

“You’re bein’ dirty.” Michael responds, though his body is already reacting to her words feeling the blood start to pump directly into his shaft.

“Am I?” Her hands slide down his chest as she tilted her head at him, fingers fidgeting with his belt to unbuckle it. “I thought you liked playing patty cake with me.”

“You always win..” A half complaint wrapped in affection because yeah: every time they played together.. she ended up steering things exactly where she wanted.

And damn if he didn’t love losing to her anyway.

[sqrixm]

𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

⋮ ⌗ ┆ Midnight baking, matching slippers, and hushed whispers in a dimly lit kitchen. Oh and Michael loves you badly, you both express it through late night baking.

╰┈➤ warning/tags: fluff galore!!!!!! Baking, pet names, no usuage of y/n, kisses, this is literally tooth rotting fluff, Hint of ED if you squint, this was writing practice for me btw

A/N: thank you so much for 200+ followers! The support I’ve gotten in my fics and blurbs have been insane and I’ve only been on here for a month??? I love you guys and feel like you deserve something fluffy instead of all the risky stuff I post! Enjoy my loves.

If it weren’t for the sheer, unfair magic of the way Michael sweet-talked you into things, you wouldn’t be standing here long past midnight, bleary-eyed and preparing to bake what he affectionately dubbed "special Mickey and Minnie cookies."

You should be in bed. You have an important interview tomorrow morning. You had even tried to build a logical defense, counter-arguing from the comfort of the blankets that sugar and baked goods couldn't possibly be deemed a proper lunch for his grueling day ahead. But the rest of the argument had simply died in your throat the second you saw his eyes. The quiet, unspoken truth settled over you: if this was the one thing that guaranteed he’d actually eat something during the day, you would gladly yield. Even if it wasn't the balanced meal you wished he’d take care of himself with, it was something.

So, you traded the warm sheets for matching slippers embroidered with each other's initials, burying yourselves into oversized, fluffy robes.

Tiptoeing down the grand staircase, a hushed, breathless giggle escaped you. "You have to keep it down!" you whispered softly, though you made absolutely no real effort to lower your own voice.

The kitchen was dimly lit, bathed in the soft amber glow of the under-cabinet lights. Stepping into the cool room, you gave him quiet instructions to fetch the ingredients. He let out a brief, utterly excited "Mhm!" before making a merry, light-footed beeline for the cabinets.

You both fell into a comfortable, love-filled silence. It was a rhythm that came to the two of you naturally, a taste of the grounded, domestic life you had both secretly craved for so long. It slipped into your relationship in a hundred tiny, quiet ways. Two people who needed each other intensely, fitting together seamlessly like missing puzzle pieces finally clicked into place.

Usually, Michael was far away when you made these special treats. Tonight, he was practically glowing with excitement because he finally got to see the little bit of "magic" you put into them. Moments like this were almost nonexistent in his world; the endless pull of the studio, rehearsals, and the sheer weight of his life always shot down any possibility of quiet normalcy. He thanked God every single day that you had walked into his life to anchor the storm. He appreciated his success, he worked tirelessly for it—but God, did the quiet moments kill him with how rare they were. He was so tired of never being able to catch his breath. So tired of feeling like he had to be Michael Jackson to the entire world, leaving no room to just be Michael.

You were the sole anchor tied to his soul. Every single night, he said a prayer of profound gratitude for whatever good spirit had guided you to him.

No matter how many songs he wrote about you, or how often your face occupied every waking thought of his day, nothing felt adequate enough to capture how painfully, deeply he loved you. It was the way you dressed, the effortless way you spoke, the brilliant, golden light in your eyes when you were excited, and that tiny, disgruntled pout that tugged at your lips when you were frustrated. He adored every single quirk. Sometimes his mind couldn't even process the effect you had on him. His brothers loved to tease him, stamping the word WHIPPED across his forehead in bold, permanent letters. But if being whipped meant sitting on a kitchen floor at 1:00 AM making cookies with the love of his life, he’d happily wear that badge for the rest of his days.

As you softly read out the next steps, Michael stayed quiet, not to retain the recipe, but to watch the subtle movement of your lips. Your body language was an entire art film to him. He loved the way you talked out loud to yourself to process your thoughts, the way your eyes widened in dramatic panic when you accidentally poured a fraction too much flour, and the tiny, self-satisfied quirk of your mouth when you figured out a quick fix. Your mind was a masterwork, a sanctuary he wished he could just step inside and live in forever.

Feeling his intense gaze, you looked over. Your expression instantly softened at how adorably focused he was. You knew he hadn't heard a single word of your unprompted baking tutorial, but you couldn't find a single drop of frustration in your heart.

Reaching out, you gently brushed a stray curl away from his forehead. "You're so beautiful, Michael," you murmured.

His dark pupils softened, locking onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away.

That was another thing Michael held sacred: you never let him forget his worth. You said it before his surgeries, and you said it after, completely unchanged. There were winter nights where you would spend hours just trailing slow, reverent kisses across his skin, whispering soft truths against his collarbone until every inch of him absorbed the fact that he was cherished.

He still remembered how terrified he had been the first time he had to show you his new nose. He had been convinced you’d look at him with disappointment, that all those warm, intimate nights prior would feel like a memory he couldn't hold onto. He had wanted nothing more than to hide, but your gentle persistence had chipped right through his wall of stubborn insecurity. When he finally looked at you, you had gasped, and he braced his entire body for the worst.

It never came.

Instead, your warm, delicate hands had cupped his face with unimaginable care. "My baby looks so handsome," you had whispered, your tone so steady, so profoundly reassuring, that your eyes implicitly promised: I will never love you any less.

He had broken down in your arms that night. And piece by piece, you had put him back together.

Pulling his mind back to the quiet glow of the present, Michael reached out and gently took those very same hands, the hands that always brought him peace, and pressed a lingering kiss against your knuckles. He watched with a quiet smirk as you looked away, well aware of how easily his sudden affection could overwhelm you.

You craved it like a drug. You craved each other, whether standing inches apart or separated by oceans, nothing else in the universe could satisfy that ache.

Together, you slid the tray of Mickey and Minnie cookies into the warm oven and set the timer. As you turned to clear the counter, Michael seamlessly fell into place beside you to help. You began washing the few stray bowls in the sink, your hands moving through the suds, while Michael picked up a dish towel, drying each piece and putting it carefully back in its place.

He had a full staff of people who could clean a kitchen in seconds, but there was something about this simple, mundane fantasy that he refused to trade for the world. His nightly dreams weren't filled with stages or spotlights; they were filled with this. Simple chores, hushed talk, the quiet joy of just existing as partners in a shared life.

He hadn't officially asked you to move in yet, but your presence had completely taken over his space anyway. His master bathroom vanity now featured a pink toothbrush standing right beside his red one; his vanity drawers, once strictly organized, were now overflowing with your curling irons, texturizing products, hairties, and silk scrunchies. Your clothes were intimately intertwined with his in the closet, and framed photographs of the two of you littered the bedroom walls. He had become your real home. He had even offered to keep paying the rent on your apartment just so you wouldn't feel pressured, knowing damn well you hadn't stepped foot in it for months.

That conversation was coming soon. But for tonight, he was content to let the fantasy linger just a little longer.

With the kitchen tidy, Michael turned, his hands sliding naturally around your waist—a spot that felt like it had been custom-sculpted specifically for his palms to hold. He immediately showered your face in a barrage of light, rapid pecks.

You giggled, trying to push his chest to stop his charming assault, but realizing you didn't have a prayer of winning, you surrendered completely. You took turns kissing every inch of each other’s faces, the air thick with soft, breathless laughter and the gentle sound of quiet kisses.

When you finally stopped to breathe, your eyes locked. Michael licked his lips slowly, his gaze dropping down to your mouth. He leaned in, and the moment your lips connected, the rest of the world dissolved.

The pace was slow, unhurried, and deep. It was a kiss born entirely of comfort and raw devotion. No rush, no performance, just two souls melting together. His fingers tangled in your hair as your tongues met, pulling you deeper into a hazy, weightless bliss. When the oven timer began its shrill, rhythmic beep, neither of you even flinched. Without breaking the kiss, Michael blindly stretched a long arm across the counter and slammed his palm down on the button to shut it up, instantly pulling you back into him.

When you finally parted, breathless and thoroughly disheveled, your lips were flushed and your hearts were hammering against your ribs. Michael stared down at you, his eyes brimming with a fiercely protective adoration. He couldn't wait to put a ring on your finger. He couldn't wait to lock this in for eternity.

As the hazy, romantic fog slowly cleared from your brain, your eyes drifted past his shoulder toward the kitchen unit. The sudden realization hit you like a bolt of lightning.

You gasped, your eyes widening in sheer panic as you swiveled toward the glass door.

"Mike! The cookies!"

[starzkook]

1975 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡

[kkgalerii]

imagine :

michael truly never can stop til’ he gets enough

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

content: 18+, straight smut, plot nowhere to be found, overstimulation ೀ

𑣲. the low, ambient glow of the bedroom lamp cast long, amber shadows across the oversized mattress, lighting up the subtle rise and fall of the tangled silk sheets. it was well past three in the morning.

you and michael had returned from a long, glamorous night out hours ago—your high heels discarded somewhere near the bedroom door, his heavy jacket draped over the velvet armchair—and yet, neither of you had gotten a single minute of sleep.

you lay melted back against the plush pillows, your skin flushed and slick with a fine sheen of sweat, your chest heaving in quiet, ragged hitches. your eyelids felt heavy, weighed down by pure, golden exhaustion, every muscle in your legs trembling softly from the endless storm of pleasure he had already pulled out of you.

"michael..." you whimpered out lazily, your voice raspy and barely above a breath as you reached up, your fingers tangling loosely into his damp dark curls. "god, baby... we've been at this all night..."

michael hovered directly over you, resting his weight on his forearms on either side of your head. his broad shoulders glistened under the dim lamp, his dark eyes wide, liquid, and burning with a sweet, unyielding hunger that proved he wasn't anywhere near finished with you.

"i know, sweet thing... i know," michael whispered against your jaw, his voice a low, raspy velvet hum that sent a violent shiver straight down your spine.

he leaned down, pressing a trail of soft, lingering kisses along your burning neck, over your collarbone, down to your chest. "just a little more for me... please, angel? you feel so good... i can't stop..."

he reached down between your bodies, his long, slender fingers—warm and tender—sliding effortlessly through the heavy slickness that drenched your thighs.

"look at what you do to me..." michael rasped into your skin, a breathless, needy groan catching in his throat as his fingers stroked your dripping center. "you're so wet, mama... you're making such a mess of my sheets... it feels too damn good..."

before you could even summon a coherent thought to protest, michael gently took hold of your knee. with absolute care, as if you were made of pure silk, he lifted your leg, shifting your body onto your side and tucking your knee up toward your chest.

the shift in position opened you up completely to him from behind.

"mike... wait..." you gasped out, your fingers clutching tightly at the cool sheets under your hands.

"i got you, baby... just let go for me," michael murmured softly into the nape of your neck, his lips pressing sweet, reassuring kisses to your shoulder as he guided the broad, heavy tip of his shaft against your drenched entrance. "just relax your body... open up nice and wide for your boy, sweet thing..." slowly, deliberately, he pushed his hips forward.

a long, helpless moan tore from your throat, echoing softly in the quiet bedroom as he slid seamlessly inside you, filling every single inch of your aching core for what felt like the hundredth time tonight.

the sheer depth of the angle stretched you wide open, making your inner walls flutter violently around his thick length in absolute shock.

michael let out a heavy, shuddering groan against your shoulder, a breathless “m—mmm, god...” escaping his lips as his long arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling your back flush against his warm, rising chest."god... you feel so warm... so tight for me, angel," michael praised, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. "take it all for me... that's my good girl... let me take care of you..."

he didn't rush. instead, michael established a slow, agonizingly deep rhythm—rolling his hips into yours with that same effortless, fluid grace he possessed on stage. every single push was a slow, heavy grind, his broad head sliding over your internal sweet spot with ruthless, agonizing precision.

"aaah! mike!" you sobbed out softly, your head rolling back against his shoulder, your vision blurring into stars as that familiar, electric knot in your belly coiled right back up with terrifying speed.

"yeah... right there, baby?" michael rasped in your ear, letting out a soft, helpless moan of his own as his hips worked into yours. "m—mmm... i know... i know how much you like when i roll it like that... it feels so good on me, baby... you feel so fucking—mmph.."

you tried to speak, tried to tell him how completely insane he was driving you, but as he kept up that slow, steady, rolling grind against your clit, your tongue felt heavy, completely useless. all that could spill past your parted lips were breathless, whimpering sounds of pure submission.

"talk to me, baby..." michael coaxed gently, his hand sliding up your stomach to cup your breast, his thumb lightly stroking your sensitive nipple in perfect sync with his hips. "tell me how it feels... let me hear those pretty little noises... don't hold back for me..."

"i... i can't... michael, please..." you whimpered out, your fingers clutching blindly at his forearms anchored around your waist. "you're... you're making me crazy..."

"i got you... i'm right here," he whispered back, his voice dropping into that sweet, comforting breathiness. "just ride it with me... move your hips with mine, sweet thing... just like that... shit, mama…ngh”

for ten agonizingly sweet minutes, he kept you locked in that position, his body sliding against yours with a masterclass rhythm until your hips were trembling out of control.

his own breathing grew shallow, wild, and ragged. michael was whimpering openly into your skin now, his chest heaving as the intense friction of your drenched walls squeezing him so tightly pushed him right over the edge.

with a low, guttural groan that vibrated from deep in his chest—a long, needy "aaah, god, mama..."—michael drove himself deep inside you and came hard, his length pulsing inside you as he spilled his warmth into your center.

"god... angel..." michael whimpered, resting his forehead against your back, his entire body trembling as he rode out his release, letting out sweet, shaky sighs against your shoulder.

but he didn't pull out. he didn't even slow down for long.

staying buried deep inside your slick heat, michael let out a raspy, needy breath against your neck and began moving his hips again. still sensitive and throbbing, he rolled his hips back into that exact swollen spot, driving you completely out of your mind.

"mike! oh god... you're still... aaah!" you screamed out softly, your head thrashing against the pillow as the feeling hit you twice as hard.

"i can't stop, baby... it feels incredible... i just can't get enough of you," michael purred dark and low against your ear, his hands tightening on your waist as he picked up the pace. "you make me feel so good, mama... let me keep going... let me make you feel like heaven again..."

he gently rolled you back onto your spine, pulling your legs up over his shoulders and driving back into you from above. the angle was devastatingly deep. every slick impact echoed loudly in the dark bedroom, making a pool of sweat and release spread across the silk sheets beneath your hips.

michael leaned over you, his dark curls damp and clinging to his forehead, his dark eyes wide, hooded, and completely breathless as he watched your face contort with pleasure.

"look at this mess we're making..." michael rasped out, a soft, trembling moan escaping him as he ground his hips down hard. "m-mmm, sweet girl... look at how wet you are for me... you're taking all of me so pretty... tilt your hips up for me, baby... yeah, right there..."

"michael... i'm gonna... i'm gonna cum again!" you sobbed out, your hands clutching his wrists for dear life as your inner walls fluttered violently around him.

"do it, mama please! give me it baby, i want it so bad…" michael encouraged frantically, his voice cracking with pure emotion, a high, needy whimper torn from his own throat as he felt your body tightening up around him.

he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours, his hips driving into you with short, wild, frantic thrusts. "let it go, angel... cum all over my dick... ahhh, god, you're so tight...!"

the coil inside you snapped with violent force.

a breathless, piercing scream of pure bliss tore from your lungs as a massive, overwhelming orgasm slammed through your entire body.

your inner walls clamped down in powerful, rhythmic contractions, milking his broad shaft so hard that it triggered a second, explosive release from him right alongside yours.

with a dark, loud groan into your mouth—a helpless, desperate sound that echoed off the quiet walls—michael shuddered violently, spilling over inside you once more as you both came together in a wild, chaotic finish.

he collapsed forward, burying his face deep into the crook of your neck, his heavy chest rising and falling violently against yours as he heaved for air, letting out long, shaky breaths against your hot skin.

for several quiet minutes, the only sound in the bedroom was the soft, ragged sound of both of your breath mingling together in the dark. the silk sheets were completely soaked beneath you both, cold air brushing against your warm, slick skin.

slowly, michael pulled his head back, his dark eyes soft, liquid, and filled with a sweet, sleepy affection.

he pulled you gently onto your side, curling his body around your back and wrapping his long arms tightly around your waist, tucking you flush against his chest.

he pulled the heavy silk comforter up over both of your shoulders, shielding you from the cool air, and pressed a quiet, lingering kiss to the back of your neck.

"you okay, sweet thing?" michael whispered softly into your hair, his voice dropping into that sweet, gentle breathiness.

"i'm wonderful, mike..." you murmured, snuggling back into his heat as your eyes finally closed, your heavy body sinking into the mattress as you prepared to finally fall asleep. "you're relentless..."

michael let out a soft, quiet giggle against your shoulder. you thought he was finally letting you rest. but as your breathing began to slow down, you felt the heavy, unmistakable heat of his shaft—already growing thick and rock hard once again—pressing firmly against the crease of your thighs.

without pulling away, michael shifted his hips slightly, beginning to drag his long, hot length in slow, agonizingly sweet strokes directly up and down your drenched clit.

a sharp, helpless gasp tore from your throat, your eyes flying open in the dim light as a fresh bolt of heat zapped straight through your lower belly.

"mike...?" you whimpered, your hips twitching on instinct against him.

"i know, baby... i told you i can't stop," michael purred right against your ear, a low, boyish smirk in his raspy voice as his hand slid down your stomach to guide his hips back into you. "just one more time for your boy... keep going for me, sweet thing..."

[brownsugarletters]

I Can't Help It

Michael Jackson x fem!reader

"The truth was simple and brutal:

Michael felt like everybody wanted his woman.

And the thought of you giving someone else even a portion of what he got from you made him sick to his stomach with jealousy and fear."

SYNOPSIS: Michael is selfish and doesn't wanna share reader with anyone— including the personal tutor he hired for her.

CONTENT: fluff, a little angst, smut, 18+, overstimulation, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink? if you squint?, hair pulling, era 1990, dangerous era!Michael, yearning Michael, very descriptive dirty talk, ITS NASTY Y'ALL

Song Inspo: Nobody x Keith Sweat ft Athena Cage

Author's Note: Sorry y'all I was supposed to upload last night but I fell asleep 🫣 this fic was a little inspired by my bby @1andonlytashae who wrote a angst/hurt no comfort story that was soooo good. You can read it here

Los Angeles was in its rainy season and there had been a constant downpour for the past three days. The storm made everything look soft, gray, and endless.

And it was during this time that Michael hired Alejandro. He had found the man himself— a soft-spoken instructor that taught Spanish to beginner students. Alejandro had excellent reviews and a calm demeanor that Michael thought would be perfect for you. 

The Latin American leg of the tour was coming up, and soon you’d be in a different city every few days. Michael had looked at you one night while you were curled up against him and asked quietly,

“I want you to come with me this time. Experience all of it. But I don’t want you feelin’ lost when we go places where no one speaks English. Let me find you somebody good who can help?”

Flattered was the best way to express how you felt in the moment. It was an indicator that things were getting more serious between the two of you. Michael had never asked any woman to accompany him on tour before. 

He understood that his life came with a lot. Whoever his person was would have to sacrifice the simplicity of their everyday life in exchange for being with him. You had shown him you could handle it, and for that he was more grateful than you understood.

You’d simply smiled and told him he didn’t have to do that, but he brushed your hair away from your face like he always did and insisted.

“I wanna do it. I never want my life to make yours smaller.”

Michael didn’t want you to feel confined in the way he did when he was on the road. So, he figured if you could get some conversational Spanish under your belt, you’d be able to visit shops, museums, and whatever else interested you without feeling like an outsider.

So naturally, Alejandro started coming over three times a week to give you private one on one lessons. You were easily embarrassed and wanted to have the privacy to learn in peace.

Everything was fine at first. During your lessons, Michael would sit quietly at the kitchen island sipping his tea. He never interrupted. Just watched you practice and admired the focused little frown that settled over your features when you struggled with getting a new phrase right. 

Every time you mastered something new, your face would light up. A soft, warm laugh would spill out. Michael would smile to himself quietly and proudly. He’d think about how lucky he was that this beautiful woman with her soft voice and eclectic personality had chosen him.

To say Michael was obsessed with you would be an understatement. He was infatuated with you in a quiet consuming way that frightened him at times.

He loved the way your body felt in his hands. How it felt pressed against him late at night. Your skin was always soft and warm. He loved the little sounds you would make when he kissed the back of your neck while you were busy doing something. 

He especially loved how your voice would drop into a familiar cadence when you were talking to your mama or family on the phone. The same rhythm and vernacular he had grown up hearing around his family.

He’d watch your mouth when you spoke to him. Often, he’d lose track of the actual words you were saying to him because he was too busy staring at the shape of your lips and thinking about how pretty they were. He would end up kissing you in place of a response, soft and lingering. 

And, he had already started looking for the perfect ring. 

One night while you were sleeping, Michael took it upon himself to size your ring finger. Luckily for him, you were a pretty heavy sleeper.

On the rare occasion that he had free time in his day, Michael found himself meeting with private jewelers and perusing options he’d picked out just for you. 

He still wasn’t satisfied yet. The ring needed to be perfect, something you’d be proud to show off to your girlfriends and family. He imagined the way your face would look when he finally asked. Everything had to be right and the timing had to be perfect. 

He wanted you to feel safe and chosen. So, everything was great, until it wasn’t. 

Things changed the day that Alejandro started staying longer than scheduled. It started with small, harmless things.

Michael passed the room he set up for your lessons one day and overheard Alejandro offering to take you to some hole in the wall place to try authentic arepas. 

Involuntarily, his steps slowed down as he ear hustled to see what your response would be. You politely declined and Michael let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in.

And from that day on, Michael was on Alejandro's ass. He noticed everything. 

The way he’d correct your accent by gently touching your chin so he could watch your mouth form the words correctly. How he’d linger just a little too long after the lesson was over, talking about music or places he’d lived. 

Or the one that made Michael clench his jaw so hard it hurt— complimenting how beautiful your laugh was after you finally got a tough phrase right.

That was when he started closing his studio door more often. 

Physically Michael was there, mentally? He was somewhere else. 

He started answering your questions with polite staccato answers instead of the long drawn-out conversations you used to have. After that it was the kisses. The long, lingering kisses he’d leave on your lips turned into gentle forehead kisses. 

And most painfully for you, his constant obsessive touching stopped. No more pulling you into his lap the second you walked past him or hands finding your waist or the back of your neck absentmindedly during the day.

The distance was startling to you, but you just assumed he was really focused on work. Michael had a habit of immersing himself in his craft to the point that he’d forget to eat and sleep.

It was a Thursday when you looked over at the clock and realized Alejandro had stayed nearly an hour past the session end time. You were in the middle of laughing about something he said about a difficult conjugation when you looked up and caught Michael standing in the hallway. 

His arms were crossed and he was watching with a completely blank expression. Wordlessly, he had turned and entered his studio, closing the door softly behind him. 

That night, he barely spoke to you. It was extremely abnormal. 

Usually, Michael talked your ear off to the point where you had to escape to the den for quiet time to read your book, or to watch t.v.. You loved the man dearly, but when that mouth started goin’ it didn’t stop.

He cooked in silence that night. Left a plate for you wrapped in foil on top of the stove, and disappeared back into his studio till nearly 3am. And when he did finally come to bed, he stayed on his side with his back turned to you. Michael usually held you so close to him during the night that you had to separate from him in his sleep because you’d wake up sweating like he’d been trying to fuse the two of you together.

That was when you started to think, maybe it wasn’t just work…

So, you tried to talk to him the next morning. He was sitting at the island and reading the day’s paper. As you walked behind him you trailed your fingertips gently across his shoulder blades. The touch sent chills down his spine— like it always did when you touched him. Still, his eyes stayed on the paper.

“Morning, mama” he said simply. He didn’t turn to kiss you and he didn’t trail his gaze over your face slowly, taking you in the way he usually did like he hadn’t seen you in forever.

“Mikey, are you okay baby?” Your fingers had trailed up to massage his earlobe before drifting to twirl one of his curls. He allowed the touch and leaned into it slightly. 

“I’m fine.” He murmured, sipping his tea.

“You’ve been super distant. Tell me somethin’.” Your gaze stayed on him and he was quiet for a moment.

“Just been workin’, that’s all.”

“Michael” your tone held a warning.

He finally met your eyes and immediately you noticed the ghost of something sad in them. 

“Just… focus on your lessons baby. Tour’s coming and I want you to be ready.” Then he'd folded his newspaper and left the room quietly.

You stared at him a moment longer as he walked away. Really, you weren’t ready to let the subject die. But you left it alone anyway, and the fear that something else was going on only grew larger.

This wasn’t like him at all. Nothing about Michael Jackson was nonchalant, he was not a man who did distant. 

Especially not with you.

He would pause a conversation just to pull your closer and press his face into your neck like the smell of you was keeping him breathing. Sometimes he’d interrupt his own sentences just to tell you your skin was glowing in the warm morning light. He got quiet and shy when he’d talk about how much he yearned to marry you someday soon. And he meant sooner than you knew.

That was why when he began pulling away you knew in your gut something was off.

You just didn’t realize it was your growing rapport with Alejandro. And— that Michael was watching so closely.

Every afternoon when Alejandro came over, Michael would intentionally leave his studio door cracked. He hated it, but sometimes he’d stand in the hallway out of sight with his heart in his throat listening to how easily the two of you carried on conversation. How Alejandro's voice would go all soft when he’d correct you. Which ironically, was one of the reasons Michael had picked him for you. Now he was kicking himself.

He heard the way you’d laugh with your whole belly when Alejandro would make a joke Michael thought was corny. And he heard the way Alejandro said your name like it tasted good in his mouth.

Every single time, something dark and helpless wound tighter in Michael’s chest.

He never said anything to Alejandro despite these feelings. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass you. He realized how silly it would look for him to do that when he had hired the man and invited him into his home specifically for you. 

Deep down, Michael knew the man was just doing his job. A tutor should be friendly and encouraging— but Alejandro was just a little too charming.

This knowledge brought Michael no comfort. The truth was simple and brutal:

Michael felt like everybody wanted his woman. And the thought of you giving someone else even a portion of what he got from you made him sick to his stomach with jealousy and fear.

He loved the way you cooked for him, and how the whole house would smell like garlic and onions and whatever seasoning blend you’d chosen. You’d taste something off the spoon and always hold it out for him, saying “Taste it baby, lemme know how it tastes”. He’d brush his lips over your fingers, murmuring how delicious it was.

Any time you’d press a small hand against his chest when you passed him in the hallway his heart would flutter underneath it. The way you smoothed his clothing or played with his hair gave him chills every time.

He loved to brush curls way from your face when you were focused on something— and how you’d scrunch your nose and bat his hand away, mumbling “Boy leave my hair alone” even though you never actually stopped him.

Every intimate part of your life together started to feel threatened when Alejandro walked through the door, and Michael was in agony.

When he stood in the hallway listening to you two talking he felt like his heart was being slowly crushed in a fist. He’d go back to his studio, attempting to do anything close to working. But he’d end up staring at the same few bars of music for an hour while his mind endlessly replayed how Alejandro's hand had brushed the small of your back when he helped you find the right page in your textbook.

He started coming to bed late intentionally on the days you had lessons so he wouldn’t have to face the soft worried look you kept giving him. 

And every night, he’d lie awake in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to your breathing and think:

She’s mine. She’s mine. She’s mine. Please be only mine.

The last straw was on a Friday. 

Alejandro had just finished up for the day, and he was packing his bag when he casually said, “There’s a little place in east LA that does the best chiles rellenos this time of year. Private, quiet. I could take you tomorrow after we finish. Help you practice ordering in Spanish. Real conversation.”

Before he had finished the invitation you were already shaking your head politely. 

“Thanks Alejandro, but Michael and I have plans.”

Alejandro's smile remained, but his eyes flicked to the hallway. 

“He works a lot huh? Pretty lady like you deserves to get out sometimes.” 

You had laughed it off thinking the comment was just friendly. Unbeknownst to you, Michael heard every word from the doorway of his studio.

Something in him snapped.

He waited in his studio, swiveling back and forth in his office chair and tapping his foot impatiently. He waited until the front door closed and the sound of the man’s engine faded into the distance. Then he stood up so fast the chair squeaked and rocked backwards.

He went straight to the kitchen where you were still standing by the table putting away your study materials. 

When you looked up the smile on your face died immediately as you took in the expression on Michael’s face.

“What’s up? Why you lookin’ at me like that?” Concerned, you stepped around the island and came closer to him. Rain was streaking the window behind him and he was rubbing a hand over his face.

“Baby, you don’t see how he looks at you?” He sighed, finally speaking his mind. For a moment you just looked at him and blinked. You were totally lost.

“What are you talking about?”

“Alejandro” the name came out like it hurt to say. “The way he’s leaning in too close when you talk. Him watching your mouth when you talk. The dinner invitations. And now, “Pretty lady like you should get out sometime”? You makin’ me crazy on purpose? Did I do something wrong?”

His eyes were glassy and a little wild.

Your stomach dropped. So that’s what’s going on. 

“Baby no… it’s just lessons. I’m getting ready for tour like we talked about. That’s all.”

Michael’s hands flexed at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them. Usually, he reached for you when he was scared or uncertain. He looked away shaking his head as he dragged his tongue over his bottom lip as he thought about what to say next. 

“You know how I feel about you.” His voice was softer than he intended when it came out. “You know what you are to me...And I have to sit in the next room listening to him tryna get closer to you every day like I don’t exist. Like what we have don’t mean nothin… like he could just take you.”

You stepped toward him carefully and placed your palms on his chest in an attempt to ground him.

“I only want you, Michael. You know that. There’s nobody else. Never has been.”

He stared at you for a long second, heart thumping behind his ribs under your palms. His voice cracked when he spoke again, almost like he was pleading,

“You’re so special and I wake up every day terrified somebody’s gonna see that and try to take you from me. I can’t breathe right when he’s in your face like that. I can’t think when he touches you like that. I keep imagining you laughin’ with him how we laugh… and it feels like my chest is caving in.”

Your heart swelled at the raw honesty in his tone.

“I need you,” He said, eyes shiny. “Need you so bad it scares me. You’re the only thing that feels real to me. Only person who makes the noise in my head go quiet. And the thought of losin’ you—” he shut his eyes tightly. “Somebody else touching you… it makes me sick. Please. Prove it to me. Prove you’re still mine.”

He looked a little embarrassed at how desperate he sounded but he didn’t take it back. He just stood there in the dim lighting, hands trembling slightly at his sides, waiting for you to save him from the fear that had been eating him up for weeks now. You didn’t hesitate.

“Okay. Anything.”

His heart skipped a beat at the way you said it. He gently closed his fingers over one of the hands pressed against his chest and turned to lead you to your shared bedroom. 

Once you were inside, Michael turned to you with dark, hungry eyes.

“Strip for me, baby.”

Immediately, you obeyed. Slowly, you shed every piece of clothing until you were totally bare in front of him. The cold breeze flowing through the cracked window kissed your skin and made your nipples pebble. His gaze raked over your body greedily, like he was memorizing every curve and beauty mark.

He didn’t remove any of his clothing. His sweater and jeans remained. His eyes watched you like something he wanted to both ruin and protect all at once. 

Slowly, he walked toward you till he was close enough for his breath to ghost over your lips. You breathing hitched as you looked from his lips to his eyes and back again.

A soft sound came from your throat when he didn’t kiss you. Instead, he grazed his fingers over your belly and said, “Lay back for me, pretty.” He guided you backwards onto the bed so you were flat on your back and settled beside you, one knee bent as he rested on his side.

His fingers trailed along the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of goose bumps. The first touch of his fingers against your sex made you inhale sharply. 

He traced through your folds, testing how wet you were already. His middle finger came up to gently circle your clit. When you moaned softly, his eyes flicked up to your face, drinking in every little expression.

Then, he pressed two fingers inside you slow and deep. Immediately his fingers found that soft, spongy spot and curled against it. At the same time, his thumb began circling your clit again in gentle circles.

The dual sensation had your thighs quaking already. The stretch of his long fingers and the precise pressure against that tender spot deep inside you made your hips twitch helplessly. Heat spread through your abdomen in slow, heavy waves. Each stroke sending a sharp pulse to your core.

“Look at you,” He murmured, eyes still trained on you. “Already so wet for me and I barely touched you. Been walkin’ around with that tutor, lettin’ him look at you like that… makin’ me crazy. Now this pussy’s creaming and clenchin’ on my fingers the second I put my fingers in it.”

You whimpered and your hips rolled toward his hand. You wanted him so bad it hurt. Your hands reached for him and you tried to pull him down to kiss you, but he only hovered. Lips brushing yours but never quite giving you the real thing while his fingers kept stroking you.

“Not yet, baby” He whispered against your lips. “You been makin’ me feel like I was losin’ you. Now, you’re gonna feel how scared I’ve been.”

He fingers worked you open with slow precision. The first orgasm built deep and heavy in your core until it finally broke. Your back arched into him hard, and a soft cracked moan slipped out of you as your walls fluttered around his fingers. He didn’t stop when your thighs started shaking.

“That’s one, gimme another. Show me who this pussy belongs to.”

The second orgasm took longer and was more intense. Your face contorted from the overwhelming sensation between your legs and your eyes fluttered helplessly. His fingers kept simultaneously stimulating the soft ridge of nerves inside you and your clit, and it was making you see stars. 

Your arousal dripped down Michael’s wrist when it hit and your whole body felt oversensitive. 

The second he pulled his fingers away and sucked them into his mouth, you were on him. You sat up fast and yanked at his sweater with desperate hands. You were so needy it was almost feral. Now empty and aching to be filled by him. Michael gasped and let out a soft surprised laugh.

“Oh baby, look at you. So needy you can’t even wait, huh?” He helped you just enough, allowing you to shove his sweater up and over his head. Then came his jeans and boxers, far enough that his dick sprang free, thick and hard, leaking pre-cum.

Michael’s heart flipped when he observed the hungry yearning look you gave him as you admired him. 

“C’mere baby” he murmured. He sat back against the headboard with his legs spread and pulled you into his lap. He bit down on his bottom lip as he watched you straddle him and slowly sink down on him, inch by inch. 

He let out a shaky moan and his head tilted back when he was finally buried to the hilt. The fullness made your breath catch in your throat.

The whole time your eyes stayed locked on his. His lips were already swollen from the way you’d been kissing and biting them. His mouth kept falling open with soft whimpers and his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure.

You stayed there for a second, just feeling him stretch you completely. Once you adjusted to his size, you began rocking your hips in slow circles while keeping him completely inside you. With every movement, your breasts brushed his chest and your nipples dragged over his warm skin. Leaning in, you kissed him soft and messy while your hands cradled his face.

“I love you,” You whispered against his lips. The words were shaky from how full you felt. “I only want you baby. You’re the only one who makes me feel like this… I’m yours”

The combination of your soft voice and the skin-to-skin contact paired with the way you were rolling your hips against his made his eyes roll back. A long, broken whimper slipped from his lips and his head fell back against the headboard again in orgasmic bliss.

“You feel so good baby.” He moaned high and shakily. “So, so good. I can feel you flutterin’ around me just right.” 

You kept going, slow and deliberate while whispering soft reassurances to him. How no one else could ever make you feel this full, this loved. Every roll of your hips brushed your clit against him and sent a heavy pulse of pleasure through your core. The obscene sounds of you creaming on him filled the room, and his hands gripped your hips like he was trying to anchor himself.

The slow, deep grind pushed him over the edge with a cracked surprised moan, and he started pulsing hard inside you. You felt every spurt— the sudden heat, and the way he filled you until you were dripping down his balls. With every continued roll of your hips, it smeared between you. The sensation of being so full of him made your walls twitch around him.

Michael only gave himself a few seconds to recover, then he moved. He flipped you onto your back so fast it knocked the wind out of you. Then your thighs were pushed up until they almost touched your chest. 

He teased you, dragging the head of his cock against you and nudging your clit just to hear you whimper. His eyes trailed over your blissed out features adoringly. Leaning in, he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips as he sunk into you with one, smooth motion. Your mouth fell open and he kissed you through it.

When he pulled away, his chain dangled in your face and he exhaled shakily. You breathed in his scent as your lips brushed his collar bone. Then, you took his chain between your teeth.

He looked down at you and a lovesick smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You’re so perfect, baby” He murmured as he continued to rock his hips deep into you, barely pulling out at all in between strokes. He was fully feral now. He kissed you all over your face, cheeks, eyelids, and your nose. Then he licked the drool from the corner of your mouth before claiming your lips again in a messy kiss. 

Every time the thick head of his dick dragged over the swollen bundle of nerves inside you, your walls pulsed and he moaned into your mouth like he could feel it too. Pleasure built in slow waves and your eyes rolled back from the sensation.

“You feel that, baby? How you keep flutterin’ around the head of my dick every time I grind into that little spot.” He kissed you again as you whimpered. “So sensitive and perfect for me”. He kept massaging the head into the soft spongy tissue with every roll of his hips. The next orgasm built under the relentless pressure, and you cried out when you came hard, legs shaking in the air.

He didn’t stop.

“I’m sorry, princess” he said softly, still grinding and kissing you. “I know it’s too much and you’re sensitive, but I need you so bad. Let me feel it baby. Cum on my dick again so I know you’re mine. Only mine”

Involuntarily your next orgasm came not long after. Your face was wrecked with bliss and your saliva-slicked lips kept parting with broken moans as he kept abusing the small bundle of nerves. The pleasure was tipping into overstimulation, and your thighs were quaking as your core convulsed.

“Look at you,” He cooed in a lovesick tone. “Can’t stop cummin’ for me, can you baby? All I gotta do is let the head of my dick kiss that lil tender spot and you fall apart for me every time. So pretty like this, mama. Creamin’ all over me like a good girl.”

He kept you like that until you were shaking and tears slipped down your temples from the overstimulation. Then, he pulled out just long enough to flip you onto your stomach and shoved a pillow under your hips. Your face was turned toward the mirror across from the bed.

In one deep thrust, he sank back inside you and started grinding again. The new angle let you watch everything.

Then he did something that made you short-circuit.

Michael planted one foot on the bed with a bent knee to give himself leverage to dig even deeper. The pressure was intense and you could feel him in your stomach. All the while, his eyes stayed locked on yours in the mirror. Every time your eyes started to flutter shut, he gently gathered a handful of your hair and tugged just enough to keep your gaze on the reflection.

“Look how pretty you look gettin’ fucked like this baby. Don’t look away. Want you to watch this pretty face while you cum for me. Watch how good you’re takin’ me”

At this point, everything falling from your lips was nonsensical as you tried to gather your thoughts. The vulnerability of watching yourself made everything that much more intense. You could see your expression, eyes half lidded, mouth open and drooling while he fucked you deep and steady. 

Every time your eyes threatened to close, he gave your hair another gentle tug to force you to see exactly what he was doing to you. Your next orgasm hit while you were staring at yourself. It felt so good it almost hurt. Your walls continued to clamp around him in weak overstimulated pulses. Tears continued to drip down your cheeks as you watched the mess you two were making in the mirror. 

Sweat glistened on Michael’s abdomen, and you moaned as beads began to drip down his chest, his cum and your arousal smeared everywhere.

“I should keep you like this all day,” he groaned as he kept grinding deep. “Pinned and stuffed full like this, strokin’ that little spot ‘till your eyes roll back. I could keep this pretty pussy cummin’ for me until you can’t even remember your own name. Would you like that, baby?”

The only thing you could do was sob and nod in agreement as another orgasm built in your already spent body. Michael’s orgasm was long and drawn out. His lips parted and an orgasmic expression spread across his features as he stared at you in the mirror. He slowed his strokes down more to keep abusing that spot inside you, deep and intentional.

One hand came down in a smack on your ass that was hard enough to sting. A broken moan spilled from his lips as he continued stroking.

“I love you. Fuck— I love you baby, so much” he gasped.

Suddenly, the depth and pressure was too much and your lower belly tightened sharply. Your hands weakly attempted to push back against his stomach from the intensity. 

But Michael didn’t let you. He grabbed both your wrists in one big hand and pinned them firmly behind your back, holding you open and helpless as he kept grinding deep. Your body was completely at his mercy, and it made everything feel so much more intense.

“Stop runnin’ from me. You know you want me to keep makin’ you cream like this. Ain't that right, baby?”

“Y-yes Michael. P-please” His features lit up as you started to beg. He smirked at you in the mirror and said, 

“Please what, baby? Please don’t stop makin’ this pussy cum?” His lips brushed against your ear as he stared at you in the mirror. Then, he nudged that sensitive bundle of nerves once more, and the pressure broke.

You squirted hard around him in a messy uncontrollable gush that soaked the both of you. Your walls pulsed violently and you swore you saw stars as you let out a high pitched whine.

The second you started squirting, Michael buried himself all the way to the hilt and pressed his hips flush against you so that he was pressed gently against your cervix.

He held himself there, as deep as your body would take him and moaned “Good girl, baby”. His voice was thick with lust as he admired your reflection.

“Doin’ so good for me… squirtin’ all over me while I’m in your stomach, walls jumpin’ like you’re tryna milk me… you love me baby? Love gettin' your pussy ruined like this?”

You tried and failed to respond, only managing to stutter out broken “I love you’s”. The sensation of you cumming around him was so intense it dragged another orgasm out of him. 

Michael’s mouth fell open and he moaned high and shakily as your pussy milked another load from his oversensitive dick. Hot spurts flooded you while he stayed buried.

“Fuck baby— you’re milkin’ me so good— shit” he whimpered, hips twitching helplessly as you kept pulsing around him, dragging out every last drop until he was shaking and overstimulated right along with you.

He stayed deep inside you afterward. You both were trembling and filthy and completely spent. The rain kept falling outside. His lips found the side of your neck and kissed softly.

“I love you, I’m so sorry. I just got so scared. I… I can’t lose you. You’re everything to me. I can’t help it.” he whispered with a hoarse tone.

You reached back as much as his grip would allow and found his fingers, lacing them with yours. Your body was still pulsing with little aftershocks and you were still sensitive, but the emotional weight of his words filled your chest with warmth.

“You’re not gonna lose me,” you whispered back. “I’m right here. Always.”

He gently adjusted so that he was spooning your shaking frame. He held you tighter, still inside you and still shaking a little from how bad he needed this.

For a long time neither of you moved, just breathing together while the rain continued to fall.

You were his. And he was never going to let you forget it.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

please respect my work 💌 Everything posted here is written by @brownsugarletters. Please do not repost, copy, translate, claim as your own, upload to AI tools, or share my writing outside of Tumblr without permission.

I put a lot of care into these stories, so please keep them here and respect my space.

Taglist: @plan3tch1ld @delictezz @1andonlytashae @artflooo @man-in-the-mirror58 @sunshineyrosie @hiiioliviaxoxo @narratedillusions @animegamerfox @mysterioussag @blameditontheboogie @vinnstarr @anonymou000000 @j5rneymercies @khxna @sayyoulovemeziya @ttangerinexo @cvntttyybumblegumprincess @loveismymessage @mvsticmoony @sugarysweetooth @cherrishkissed @thebabykashmere @naturallykae @moonwalkarchives @savagenctzen @silentonthedancefloor @leiserenityy @agenuinedegen @missharper33 @ggformike @angelfacediary @alientee @divaaprincess @f0c3 @therubyeffect @rcttenfae @studio03 @f0c3 @sqrixm @pinkiieex (lmk if I forgot anyone)

[humannatures]

( ˶°ㅁ°) !!   0.8k, fluff ) husband!michael jackson x fem wife!reader: you and michael get shitfaced at an event & feed each other cake <3

cws: intoxication (you're both drunk; everyone is?), cake being smeared everywhere, you're both hot, lowkey freaky messes but it's okay

       you've never gotten drunk with michael before. usually, it's only one of you drinking, while the other stays sober and plays a more responsible role. tonight, though, you're both torn the fuck up, giggling over nothing as you stumble around together. you don't even remember who's birthday party this is, if it's your friend or michael's. maybe a mutual friend, this time?

you slur your way through happy birthday, confident in your singing ability when you really, really shouldn't be. michael's hand rests along your lower back, accidentally (or so you assume) groping your butt every so often because he's just as drunk as you are. he hiccups, then whines when you're handed a sizeable slice of cake meant for the both of you, his soft, pink lips forming a small frown. you can't help but laugh at his mild envy, swinging around in an overdramatic turn to tell the server, the poor lad, that this cake slice was fine and to ignore your husband's pouting.

"you're being mean," michael manages in your ear, reaching past you for a fork, "i wanted my own slice. you eat all the frosting." with his free hand, he brushes a few black strands out of his face, though it does nothing to tame his mane. hairs stand every which way, all wild as though he'd just been with the kids.

"you look ridiculous," you laugh. you're both still standing by the cake line when you get a very bright (messy) idea, your eyes lighting up. "you want some cake, baby? here," you say, picking up half the cake slice with your bare hand and shoving it against his mouth.

there's a pause, a brief moment where several onlookers stare with wide eyes at michael jackson's face covered in cake.

then, like hyenas, you and him both cackle, and just like that, the party continues.

a few cake chunks fall from michael's lips as his mouth moves to allow laughter out, landing on the floor along your feet and on his shoes. "oh, it's like that? huh, 's like that?" he asks loudly, his hands animated as he speaks. after licking his lips, taking in the flavor of the cake and humming at how good it is, michael leans in, kissing you on the mouth and making more of a mess in the process. "here, have some cake, honey," he teases, his hands gripping your waist tight to keep you still.

squealing, you turn your head this way and that, only succeeding in spreading the cake further along your face. frosting and cake land in huge smears against your cheeks and your nose, with some smaller bits even managing to find your eyebrows and eyelashes. most, however, land right on target: your lips. your lipstick's long gone by the time michael starts sucking on your lower lip, licking the frosting off only to add more with his finger afterwards. it becomes a drunk, sloppy game of who can add more frosting to who's face, with both you and michael grabbing leftover cake by the handful and covering each other's faces (and then outfits) with the dessert.

it takes a couple of friends to finally coax you two into stopping. though, by the time they choose to intervene, the two of you decide together that messily making out and moaning into each other's mouth's about how the cake is so sweet and so good is much more fun anyways.

"mr. and mrs. jackson, everyone!" someone calls out, and drunken applause and cheers sound out all around the room as you and michael grab, hold, and kiss each other.

       ...needless to say, it was a hell of a night. the next morning is far calmer, although your head is quick to start pounding like a snare drum in your skull as soon as you open your eyes. "shit," you hiss, rolling over into— "ew," you mutter quietly, lifting your face off of your pillow.

your frosting covered, cake crumb coated pillow.

you barely have time to truly grasp the concept of your pillow having cake bits on it. as you move in bed, your husband groans, and you realize as his lips close that your index finger's in his mouth. the wetness of his saliva and the softness of his lips is suddenly all you can register. when michael wakes up a couple minutes later, suffering from a similar sense of disorientation, he glances over at you and immediately laughs.

"you're being so loud," you mumble, rolling your eyes and removing your finger from his mouth before shoving him gently.

"'m not. you're covered in cake, look in the mirror, sweetie," he says, gesturing towards your vanity.

you scoff, reaching up and feeling your cheeks. right, that tracks. the cake on your pillow had to come from somewhere, right? "you're covered in cake, michael," you counter, "even more cake than me."

"no," your husband coos, "definitely not. you're covered." he sits up just to scoot closer, his tongue flat as he drags it lightly along your cheek, tasting the overnight smear of blue. "mmm..." what a freak!

anyways, note to self: either you get drunk or michael gets drunk. never both, unless you want cake crumbs in your sheets again!

looking for more?

based off this post which i said i would delete later and never did LOL. happy-giggly drunk MJ oh we'd need a babysitter between me and him bc i'm a shenanigan type of drunk so we'd be getting into bullshit straight up. sigh, happy-giggly drunk MJ i love you. sloppily kissing my drunk hubby sighhhh. i imagine him looking his most androgynous in this piece so i'm sloppily kissing my drunk pretty hubby. love him.

[amnesia-sc]

🕷️ — more spidey! michael art by me 🕸️🖤

also @mvsticmoony @m1-ya i figured y’all would like this

[yearlyjams]

how everyone is moving for afro!michael

[kkgalerii]

ᢉ𐭩 mutual feelings

description: a late-night movie search in his bedroom turned into an unexpected confession that exposed years of hidden desire. watching the tape broke the silence, turning a long-time friendship into a passionate kiss you and michael never wanted to undo.

content: 18+, smut, mention of pornography, bestfriends to lovers, face sitting, outercourse, otw!michael, soft!dom michael

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

the air in the bedroom was warm, thick with the quiet intimacy that only years of an unbreakable bond could bring.

ever since michael had moved out to los angeles in the early eighties, the two of you had been inseparable. despite his skyrocketing fame, the world outside his doors always melted away whenever it was just you and him.

you were a permanent fixture in his life—cool with his siblings, adored by his parents, and trusted above everyone else. to the world, he was a superstar, but to you, he was just michael: your childhood best friend.

tonight was no different. after sneaking downstairs in the dark like teenagers to raid the kitchen for armfuls of snacks, you had retreated back to the sanctuary of his bedroom.

"come on, mike, you're takin' forever," you complained with a soft laugh, watching him crouch near the media cabinet. "how hard is it to pick a movie?"

"i'm lookin', i'm lookin'!" he protested, his smooth, midwestern drawl lacing his soft voice with playful frustration as he shifted through rows of tapes. "i know it's in here somewhere, darlin'..."

losing patience, you jokingly shoved his shoulder to push him aside. "move it, slowpoke. let a professional handle this."

michael chuckled, giving up his spot on the floor without much fight. he retreated to the bed, propping himself up against the plush headboard and immediately diving into a bowl of buttered popcorn while he waited for you to do the heavy lifting.

you crouched down, shuffling through the neatly lined cassette tapes inside the wooden cabinet. near the back, your fingers brushed past an unfamiliar black case with an odd, unlabeled spine. curious, you pulled it out and flipped it over to read the back.

your jaw dropped. arrayed across the glossy cardboard cover was an unmistakable, explicit array of naked women. it was pure, unadulterated porn.

you gasped loudly, spinning around on your knees to glare at him. "michael! what the hell is this?! you are nasty!"

michael froze mid-bite, a handful of popcorn inches from his mouth. his eyes went wide as saucers, a deep crimson instantly flushing across his cheeks.

he choked on a kernel, coughing violently as he tried to find his voice. "w-what? no! hey, put that back—that ain't—i don't even know how that got in there!"

you squinted at the faded title on the front, unable to hide the mischievous grin breaking across your face. "oh, really? because it was tucked right behind your favorite cartoons, mike."

"relax, please!" he squeaked, his hands coming up in a desperate motion as he practically begged you. "just... just put it away and find a normal movie! please, you're embarrassin' me!"

the sheer panic in his face was hilarious, but the sheer shock of finding something like this in his ultra-private stash sparked a sudden wave of curiosity. you tilted your head, eyeing the tape. "you know... i’ve never actually watched anything like this before. might be good."

michael’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. "no—no, no way! we ain't watchin' that! it's completely inappropriate!"

"well, who was watchin' it in the first place then, huh?" you shot back playfully, raising an eyebrow.

michael bit his lip, his blush deepening until his ears were burning red. he couldn't even formulate a coherent sentence, looking anywhere in the room except at you.

"i just wanna see what all the commotion is about," you teased, ignoring his weak protests as you popped the tape directly into the vcr and hit play.

you scrambled onto the high mattress, sliding under the covers and settling right beside him against the headboard. the tv flickered to life, casting a blue, rhythmic glow across the dark room.

you turned your head to glance at michael, who had curled in on himself, looking thoroughly mortified. "wow, michael. and here i thought you were innocent," you tutted, shaking your head mockingly.

michael immediately hid his face entirely in his hands, though the bright red hue of his skin peeked right through his fingers. "no... i am innocent! it’s just—sometimes i... well... i'm still a man!"

"a dirty one at that," you joked, snickering as the opening scene of the video began to play. on screen, a stereotypically handsome plumber was walking up to a lavish house.

michael let out a heavy, slightly embarrassed sigh, lowering his hands just enough to peek out. "it’s dirty, i know... i just... i’ve grown up so much lately. i feel different in so many ways."

the subtle shift in his tone made you stop teasing. looking over, you caught the quiet, slightly vulnerable expression on his face, a rare glimpse beneath his usual cheerful exterior. softening up, you leaned your shoulder against his. "hey... i’m just teasin' you, mike. i know we all have our freaky moments."

michael blinked, glancing at you sideways. "we?" he questioned, a tiny smirk touching his lips as the table turned. "and what have you been doin'?"

on the television, the scene progressed. the plumber was now kneeling under a kitchen sink while the lady of the house paced around the room in a sheer, paper-thin nightgown.

now it was your turn to feel the heat rising to your cheeks. "nothing really... sometimes i just—well, i don't wanna say." you quickly averted your eyes, staring intently at your hands in your lap.

"oh, come on!" michael laughed, his confidence instantly returning as he saw you squirm. "you can torture me, but you won't give up the details?"

you chewed on the inside of your cheek, shifting nervously against the sheets before whispering, "okay... sometimes... when i like a guy—like, really really like him—i think about him... w-when i touch myself."

the room went completely quiet. the playful laughter died down, replaced by a sudden, electric stillness. michael didn't mock you. he just sat there, staring blankly ahead as if absorbing the weight of your words, deep in thought.

finally, after a long silence, he cleared his throat. "wow... that's like, really nasty," he deadpanned softly.

you gasped in pure irritation, hitting his arm. "michael!"

he burst into a loud, infectious laugh, dodging your swat. "no, i’m meannin' it as a joke! i'm just teasin'! but... i mean, that’s totally normal."

you looked at him through your lashes, the initial awkwardness melting into a strange, intimate honesty between the two of you. "yeah? do you do it... too?"

michael’s laughter faded, replaced by a quiet, grounded stillness. he gave a small, deliberate nod. "yeah. sometimes i can’t help it... there’s this girl i like. and whenever i think 'bout her... my heart swells up. and somethin' else swells too, i'd say."

your mouth dropped open, a sudden pang of unexplainable jealousy twisting in your chest. "michael! what girl?! you’ve never told me 'bout a girl! i hate when you hide stuff from me," you pouted, crossing your arms tightly over your chest.

michael just offered a smooth, mysterious grin, his eyes fixed on yours. "it's nothin'... don't you worry 'bout it."

on the screen, the plumber was watching the woman bend down low to grab something from a bottom cabinet. the actors began exchanging low, flirtatious dialogue before the man pulled her up into his arms, crushing his lips against hers.

she surrendered to it instantly, and within seconds, they were passionately making out right against the tiled kitchen counter.

the visual sent a sudden flutter through your lower stomach. "wow..." you murmured breathlessly, shifting slightly under the heavy comforter. "now that i think 'bout it... i’d love to be kissed like that."

"oh, yeah?" michael’s voice dropped an octave, quiet, deep, and velvety with that soft midwestern accent as he turned his head toward you.

you bit your bottom lip, your gaze glued to the glowing screen. "mhm... it just looks so passionate. like he’s just ready to give his absolute all to her."

michael didn't say a word. while you were absorbed in the movie, his eyes hadn't touched the tv screen in minutes. instead, he was staring directly at the profile of your face, taking in the soft curve of your lips and the flushed heat on your neck.

unknowingly, you turned your head back to him, catching his intense gaze. "is that why you enjoy watchin' this? because it's what you fantasize 'bout?"

locking eyes with you, his expression softened. "well... not the exact situation. but some of the actions, yeah."

"so you’d... bend a lady over the kitchen counter like that, and take her from the back?" you asked softly, the words tumbling out with a naive, innocent curiosity that made the air in the room feel suffocatingly thick.

michael let out a quiet breath, stunned by how casually the explicit imagery fell from your lips. "i mean... the kitchen is a lovely place," he admitted softly, a subtle blush returning to his cheeks. "i’d just be a lot more romantic and gentle than he is, darlin'."

you nodded slowly, taking that in. "mmm. so that's how you like it... sweet and gentle, huh?"

"okay, why are we interrogatin' me now?" michael countered playfully, his dark eyes glittering as he threw the question back at you. "what 'bout you? what do you like?"

"i wouldn't want it from the back," you murmured, unconsciously raising a hand to lightly bite on your fingertip as a slow, warm moisture pooling between your thighs made itself known. "i’d rather it be somethin' like missionary... where i can actually see the man who's poundin' inside of me."

michael went completely still. his breath hitched in his chest as he watched you—the heavy, dreamy look in your eyes, the subtle flush on your skin, and the way you were biting down on your finger.

"it would just be so sexy," you continued, finally turning your glance back to meet his intensely dark eyes, "to see how good i'm makin' him feel, you know?"

"y-yeah..." michael stammered slightly, his vocal cords tightening as he swallowed hard. "i get that. it’s... it's much more romantic in that sense."

you leaned a little closer to him, lowering your voice. "have you ever actually done anything... with a girl, michael?"

another light blush dusted his cheekbones. "well... i’ve only ever gotten as far as kissin'. have you?"

"yeah... just a bit of kissin', and... i’ve gotten ate out before," you admitted shyly, looking down at the blankets.

michael let out a soft sigh, an amused smile spreading across his lips. "oh, wow. you really are nasty. how did it feel?"

you opened your mouth to answer, but the memory was so underwhelming you could barely form the words. "well... the kissin' was okay, but um... when he was eatin' me out, i didn't really feel anything."

michael’s eyebrows pulled together in genuine confusion. "you didn't? i always heard that feels amazing for women."

"no... i'm not sure if he was just doin' it wrong, or if i was just way too nervous. so i just told him to stop and we called it a night," you sighed, leaning your head back against the headboard.

michael tilted his head, his voice dropping into a tender, low murmur. "so... no man has ever made you cum?"

you let out a shocked laugh, swatting his leg. "well, damn, mike! if you put it like that!"

he broke out into a bright, melodious laugh right along with you, the heavy tension breaking for a brief second.

"i'm not tryin' to judge!" he insisted through his giggles, raising his hands defensively.

"i'm just makin' sure you're satisfied!"

"well, i know damn well that you are," you joked, gesturing toward the explicit video still playing on the tv screen.

"that's it!" michael grinned, grabbing a plush feather pillow from behind him and swinging it right at your shoulder.

"hey!" you shrieked with laughter, grabbing your own pillow to defend yourself.

the two of you burst into a chaotic, full-blown pillow fight right on top of the mattress, feathers rustling and blankets tangling around your legs.

with one hard, heavy swing, you caught michael square in the chest, sending him falling backward onto the bed.

"oh, you're gonna get it now," he laughed, springing back up with lightning speed.

before you could scramble away, he lunged forward, using his weight to pin you flat on your back against the mattress.

his large, slender hands quickly seized your wrists, pinning them firmly above your head.

you gasped, breathless from laughing so hard, your chest heaving up and down rapidly. "okay, okay! i surrender!" you giggled, looking up at him.

but michael didn't drop his hold.

the laughter slowly died in his throat as his eyes roamed over you. in the scuffle, your pajama top had ridden up past your waist, exposing a smooth stretch of your stomach and the soft curve of your waist. his knees were slotted firmly between your thighs, holding you completely trapped beneath him.

on the television, the actors were now aggressively lost in the act, the faint, rhythmically wet slaps and low groans pouring out of the speakers, but the noise completely faded into the background. the atmosphere in the room shifted entirely, becoming heavy, quiet, and suffocatingly tense.

michael swallowed, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity you had never seen in him before. his lips parted slightly, his gaze dropping down to your mouth.

"michael..." you whispered, your voice trembling.

he didn't let you finish.

slowly, deliberately, his fingers slipped down from your wrists, sliding between yours to intertwine his hands with yours, pressing your knuckles flush against the bedsheets.

he leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, agonizingly slow kiss. it was a deep, intoxicating surge of passion—years of a hidden crush, unspoken longing, and suppressed desire finally pouring out of him all at once.

he broke the kiss just an inch, his hot breath fanning across your lips as he immediately dragged his mouth down to press desperate, lingering kisses against the sensitive skin of your neck. a shiver racked through your entire body.

"michael... i—" you gasped out, thoroughly confused by the sudden shift, yet completely melting beneath his weight.

before you could even finish your sentence, michael pulled back up, capturing your mouth once again, this time parting your lips and sliding his tongue deep into your mouth.

you groaned softly into the kiss, tasting the sweetness of him as his hands released yours. instead of staying pinned to the bed, he brought his palm up to cup your face, his long fingers trailing up to cradle your cheek and tangle into your hair, deepening the angle.

he pulled back just enough to look down into your blown-out pupils, his voice dropping into a raspy, needy whisper. "the girl i been wantin' so bad..." he breathed, leaning in to press another hard, lingering kiss to your mouth. "...i got her right here."

you completely lost it. the last bit of your restraint shattered as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down flush against you.

the two of you were making out deeply, breathless whimpers and soft moans escaping into each other's mouths while the vulgar sounds of the video played on in the background, ignored.

michael shifted his weight, his hips pressing into yours as he began kissing down your neck again, sucking lightly at the sweet spot right below your ear.

"i've been wantin' to do this for so damn long," he growled softly against your skin, his hands tracing down your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

"me too, baby... me too," you moaned against his shoulder, your fingers gripping his back tightly as the heat between you both exploded into pure, unfiltered desire.

the heat between the two of you was suffocating, every breathless exhale blurring the line between fantasy and reality as the explicit audio from the tv echoed through the dimly lit room. michael’s lips were relentless, moving from your mouth to trail a path of searing, hungry kisses down the curve of your jawline.

"you have no idea..." michael rasped, his voice thick with a raw, desperate edge as his open mouth pressed into the sensitive valley of your neck. "you have no idea how many nights i laid right here in this bed... thinkin' 'bout you."

a soft, broken moan escaped your throat as his lips latched onto the soft flesh right below your ear, applying a firm, suction that made your toes curl.

"michael—" you gasped, your fingers tangling into his dark, soft curls, pulling him closer rather than pushing him away. "i thought... i thought i was the only one. every time i touched myself... it was always you. it was always your face in my head..."

michael let out a low, shuddering breath against your skin, the vibration sending lightning straight down your spine. his tongue flicked over the heated spot he was marking before he bit down ever so gently, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips.

"that's it, darlin'..." he whispered sweetly into your skin, his voice dropping into that smooth, velvety midwestern lilt, dripping with affection even as his hands gripped your hips tighter. "tell me... tell me what you wanted me to do to you."

"everything..." you whimpered, tilting your head back to give him complete access. "i wanted you to kiss me just like this... to hold me down... to show me what it feels like to actually be wanted."

"i want you so bad," he murmured against your collarbone, his hot breath fanning across your flushed skin as his lips found another spot, sucking a deep, purple hickey into your flesh with a needy, possessive rhythm. "i'm gonna give you everything you ever dreamed 'bout, baby. every single thing..."

he dragged his face back up to yours, his dark eyes glittering with absolute devotion and untamed hunger. he didn't wait for a response before crushing his mouth over yours again, his tongue sliding deep to taste you, meeting your eager response as your bodies rocked together on the mattress, completely consumed by the fire you’d both kept hidden for so long.

the heat in the room was unbearable, every breath charged with years of pent-up desire. michael’s lips never left yours, his tongue sliding against yours in a wet, desperate rhythm as his body pressed heavily into yours.

"you're so sweet, baby... so damn beautiful," he breathed against your mouth, his voice raspy and thick with hunger as he broke the kiss just enough to look down at you. "i'm never lettin' you go after tonight. you're mine now."

"i'm yours, mike... always been yours," you whimpered back, your hands sliding down his shoulders to tug at his shirt. feeling the warmth of his skin sent a jolt right to your core. "take it off... take my shirt off, please. i want to feel you."

a dark, satisfied grin touched his lips. without missing a beat, michael sat up just enough to hook his fingers under the hem of your oversized pajama shirt. he pulled it up and over your head in one smooth motion, tossing it blindly onto the floor.

left in just your thin, cotton tank top, the cool air hit your bare skin, but the cold vanished the second michael leaned back down over you. his eyes roamed over your form, dark and completely intoxicated by the sight.

"look at you..." he whispered, his soft voice dripping with adoration. "so perfect, darlin'... so beautiful for me."

he lowered his head, pressing a trail of lingering, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline, down the sensitive length of your neck, and straight onto your chest. each press of his lips left a fiery path on your skin.

"michael... please," you moaned, your back arching off the mattress as his mouth worked its way lower.

"i got you, baby... i'm gonna take such good care of you," he murmured sweetly against your skin, his hot breath making your nipples harden behind the thin fabric.

his slender fingers reached for the thin strap of your tank top, slowly tracing the material against your shoulder. he hooked two fingers underneath it, his touch agonizingly gentle yet possessively firm as he slid the strap down your arm. he worked the fabric down past your ribs, exposing your bare breast to the warm air of the room.

michael caught his breath, his eyes locking onto you with pure reverence. "god, you're gorgeous..." he breathed, his voice barely a whisper.

he didn't make you wait another second. he leaned down and captured your sensitive tip between his lips, pulling it deep into his warm mouth. a loud, desperate moan spilled from your lips as his tongue flicked over you, his suction firm and steady.

"mike—oh god, michael!" you cried out softly, your fingers gripping his dark curls, holding him flush against your chest as he sucked and swirled his tongue around you, driving you completely out of your mind.

"that's it, darlin'... let me hear you," he growled softly around you, his free hand sliding down to grip your waist tightly, pulling your hips up flush against his as he continued to worship your body.

he didn't break his rhythm for a single second, his warm mouth staying wrapped around you, pulling you deeper as his tongue swirled in slow, deliberate circles over your sensitive tip. but then, slowly, he tilted his face upward.

his dark, heavy-lidded eyes locked right onto yours through the dim light of the flickering television screen. seeing the raw, intoxicated look on his face while his mouth was actively worshipping your body sent a violent shiver straight down to your core.

as he continued to suck, his long, slender fingers began to trace a path down your skin. he caressed the curve of your waist, his palm burning hot against your bare ribs, before sliding his hand all the way down the smooth expanse of your hip and thigh. his touch was agonizingly soft, worshipping every single inch of you.

"you like that, darlin'?" he murmured around you, his voice low, raspy, and vibrating right against your skin as he pulled back just enough to press a series of wet, lingering kisses around your breast. "you taste so sweet... so good for me, baby."

"oh god, michael, yes..." you whimpered, your hands tangling back into his dark curls, pulling him as close as physically possible. "it feels so good... you have no idea how long i've wanted this."

michael looked back up at you, a soft, devoted smile touching his lips, his eyes practically sparkling with affection. "tell me," he breathed softly, his hand sliding back up your thigh to gently cup your waist, his thumb stroking smooth circles over your hip bone. "tell me everything, darlin'. i wanna hear it all."

you bit your lip, the vulnerability pouring out of you as fast as the heat pooling between your legs. "it started years ago, mike... every time you'd dance in the studio and get all focused and sweaty... every time you'd sing so soft in my ear when we were just sittin' on the couch like this... my heart would just race."

michael’s breath hitched, a deep flush rising on his cheeks as he listened to your confession, his eyes never leaving yours.

"and when you'd wear those tight jeans..." you gasped out, a helpless moan escaping your throat as he leaned back down to take your nipple into his mouth again, sucking with a firmer, greedier rhythm that made your toes curl.

"god, michael... the things i wanted you to do to me... i fell so hard for you and i was so scared to tell you."

michael pulled back, his lips wet and glistening in the dim light. he slid his body up yours, pressing his weight fully against you until his face was just inches from yours, his hot breath fanning across your lips.

"you never had to be scared, baby," he whispered tenderly, his hand coming up to gently smooth a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing over your flushed cheekbone.

"i've been fallin' for you since day one. every time you smiled at me... every time you touched my arm... it drove me crazy, darlin'. i wanted to make you mine so bad."

"you have me, michael," you breathed, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling his hips flush against yours. "i'm yours. please don't stop..."

"i ain't ever stoppin', baby," he growled softly against your lips, closing the tiny distance between you to crush his mouth over yours once more, his tongue sliding deep as his hands roamed freely over every curve of your body.

you couldn't take another second of distance. grabbing the collar of his shirt, you pulled michael down into a deep, desperate kiss, sliding your tongue against his as he groaned softly into your mouth.

your hands moved eagerly, tugging at the fabric of his shirt, pulling it up over his head until he helped you slip it off, tossing it aside so his bare, warm chest pressed flush against yours.

"turn over," you whispered against his lips, your voice thick with desire as your hands gripped his shoulders. "let me be on top."

michael’s eyes darkened with pure pleasure, a low chuckle escaping his throat. "whatever you want, mama..."

he willingly let you roll him onto his back, shifting his weight so you could slide right up over his lap. sitting atop his thighs, you leaned down, placing your hands on his chest and trailing your lips from his jawline straight down the sensitive column of his neck. you pressed lingering kisses into his skin, teasing him with the tip of your tongue right where his pulse was racing.

"i've thought about this so many times, mike..." you whispered softly into his neck, making him let out a soft gasp. "wantin' to take control... wantin' to mark you up so everyone knows you're mine. i wanted to taste every inch of you... to make you lose your mind just like you're doin' to me."

"god, baby..." michael whimpered, his hands coming up to grip your hips firmly, his long fingers digging into your skin. "you're drivin' me crazy... keep talkin' to me, please..."

you leaned down to capture his lips again, your mouth moving greedily over his as you began to slowly shift your weight.

you rolled your hips down against his, initiating a slow, agonizingly sweet dry hump that pressed your warmth right against the hard length of him through your clothes.

a sharp, involuntary moan spilled straight into your mouth from michael's throat. he arched his back off the mattress, his hips rolling up to meet yours in a desperate, helpless rhythm. his hands gripped your waist tightly, guiding your movements as the friction built a searing heat between you both.

"m-michael..." you whimpered into his mouth, your breath hitching as he rocked up against you again, matching your pace with a needy intensity.

"i got you, darlin'... i'm right here," he gasped against your lips, his voice raspy and dripping with affection. "feel how bad i want you... feel what you do to me, baby..."

the two of you remained locked together, exchanging breathless whimpers, sweet confessions, and deep, wet kisses, completely lost in the rhythm of each other's bodies.

in the background, the explicit tape finally finished its run. the loud, vulgar noises faded away entirely, leaving only the slow, smooth ambient outro music playing softly from the television speakers.

the rhythmic blue light washed over the room, illuminating the sweat glistening on your skin and the absolute devotion in michael's dark eyes as he held you close, rocking helpless and happy beneath you.

you pulled back just enough to break the kiss, breathless and flushed as you raised a hand to run your fingers through your curls. sitting tall on his lap, you kept a slow, agonizingly sexy roll of your hips going against him, giving him a full, unobstructed view of your body.

michael’s breath hitched in his chest. his dark, doe-like eyes couldn't stop staring up at you—tracing every inch of your pretty face down to your exposed breasts, completely entranced. his long fingers roamed over your skin, caressing your ribcage and waist before his hands slipped down to the elastic band at the sides of your pajama shorts.

"can i take these off, darlin'?" he asked softly, his voice low and raspy with a gentle, pleading edge.

you nodded, your heart pounding against your ribs. sitting up slightly, you slid the shorts down, kicking them aside so you were left in just your bare top and a pair of cute lace panties.

michael swallowed hard, absorbing the sight of you like a man dying of thirst. "god almighty..." he breathed, his soft voice with pure awe and desire. "you're so beautiful, baby... so damn pretty for me."

as you continued to grind slowly over him, the thin fabric of your panties offered no protection from the undeniable heat radiating between you both. you felt the thick, heavy print of him poking firmly through his own pajama pants, making your stomach flip in the best way possible.

"you feel so good, mike..." you whimpered, leaning down just enough to tease his mouth with yours.

"you're drivin' me crazy, darlin'," he murmured back, his hands traveling slowly down the length of your thighs, squeezing gently. "i can feel how warm you are... feel what i do to you."

his heavy-lidded eyes roamed up and down your body hungrily before fixing on your face. he licked his lips, a slow, flirtatious smirk touching his mouth. "come here, baby... i wanna taste you."

a sudden wave of nervous butterflies fluttered in your stomach. "h-here, let me lay down then..." you stammered softly, starting to shift off his lap.

"uh-uh," michael stopped you, his hand catching your waist as he offered you a bedroom look that made your knees weak.

"no, baby. i said come here." he tapped a single slender finger against his lower lip, teasing you with a quiet, confident authority.

you blushed furiously, your face burning as you scooted up his body, hovering right above his face. michael looked up at you with those huge, expressive eyes, filled with absolute devotion.

"that's it, darlin'..." he whispered sweetly, reaching up to press tender, lingering kisses to the soft skin of your inner thighs.

he pressed his face right into your clothed warmth, breathing you in. "mmm, you taste so sweet already... so wet for me, baby."

"michael..." you gasped out, your fingers tangling in the sheets near his head as his hot breath fanned through the lace.

"help me take this off, baby," he murmured, hooking his thumbs under the sides of your lace panties and tugging them down. you lifted your hips slightly, kicking the underwear off until it fell to the foot of the bed.

michael bit his bottom lip, looking up at you with a hungry, playful intensity that made you tremble. he slowly raised his hand, pressing his thumb gently into your slick heat.

he swirled it in a agonizingly slow circle, teasing you mercilessly. "look at that..." he whispered nasty-sweet into the quiet room. "so wet for me... you're so pretty, baby. so perfect."

you were nervously falling apart right above him, completely overwhelmed by his undivided focus. feeling completely helpless under his gaze, your hands reached up to grip tightly onto the wooden headboard above his head just to stay upright.

"sit down for me, baby," he whispered, his hands coming around your hips to gently pull you down onto his face.

the moment his tongue made contact, a loud, helpless moan spilled from your lips. michael ate you out like he’d been starving for it, his tongue working in long, deep, deliberate strokes that sent lightning straight up your spine.

he whimpered softly against your warmth, the vibration of his low throat sounds making you lose your mind as he drank in the taste of you.

"oh god—mike, right there!" you moaned out, talking him through every sensation as the pleasure built at a terrifying speed. "just like that... don't stop, baby, please..."

michael’s hands moved up—one coming to cup your bare breast, plumping it up in his warm palm, while his other hand pressed firmly into the small of your waist to hold you steady.

the intense pleasure mounted until you were arching your back, leaning back slightly as you rode his face, your hips moving in a helpless rhythm against his mouth.

you tilted your head back toward the ceiling, completely overwhelmed, but michael murmured softly around your slick center, "uh-uh... look at me, darlin'."

his long fingers reached up, gently catching your chin and pulling your face down so your eyes locked back onto his.

"mike—i'm gonna cum!" you whimpered desperately, tears of pure pleasure pricking the corners of your eyes.

michael gripped your hips tightly, pinning you right where he wanted you as he began grinding your center against his tongue in a fast, relentless circular motion—never breaking eye contact for even a fraction of a second.

you tried so hard to keep looking down into his dark, devoted eyes, but as the overwhelming wave of her orgasm finally crashed over you, you couldn't hold on any longer. your legs began to shake violently, your hands flying from the headboard down into his soft, dark curls.

your eyes rolled back into your head as a loud, breathless scream of his name tore from your throat, your entire body trembling uncontrollably as you came hard right on his face.

and michael didn't stop—he stayed right there through every single wave, eating you through your climax, humming sweetly against your heat as he took every last drop.

you slowly pulled back from his face, breathless and trembling, every muscle in your body humming with the residual shockwaves of your orgasm.

as you lifted your hips, a thin, glistening string of spit stretched between his warm, wet lips and your slick center, catching the blue light of the television before finally snapping.

michael lay there beneath you, his dark eyes heavy-lidded and completely intoxicated, his lips slick and shining in the dim room.

unable to resist him, you collapsed forward, laying back down flush against his bare chest. you leaned up just enough to run your tongue up his chin, licking away the thin line of spit he’d left behind, before capturing his lips in a deep, agonizingly slow kiss.

"damn, baby..." you breathed into his mouth, breaking the kiss just an inch as your hips settled back onto his lap, immediately feeling the massive, rock-hard length pressing against you. "you're so damn hard for me..."

michael let out a low, shuddering groan, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist to hold you flush against him. "how could i not be, mama'?" he rasped into your neck, his voice dripping with that velvety midwestern lilt. "you're drivin' me outta my mind... i need you so bad, baby. i need to feel you."

"i need you too, mike..." you whispered, leaning down to press sweet, lingering kisses against his lips, his jaw, and the corner of his mouth as he reached down to hook his fingers into the waistband of his pajama pants.

he nudged them down past his hips, freeing himself into the warm air of the room. as you sat back up on his lap, your bare skin came into direct contact with his bare length.

your breath hitched in your throat.

he was thick, impressively long, and beautiful—the head glistening with a clear bead of precum in the dim light. feeling the sheer heat and size of him resting flush against your wet heat sent a fresh wave of moisture pooling between your thighs.

"god, michael..." you gasped softly, your eyes wide as you looked down at him. "look at you... you're so big, baby. so damn pretty."

a deep flush spread across michael’s cheekbones, but he didn't look away. his dark, doe-like eyes locked onto yours, completely enraptured by your words.

you reached down, your slender fingers gently wrapping around the base of his shaft. you slowly stroked your hand up the smooth, warm length of him, watching the way his jaw clenched instantly.

"oh... god, darlin'..." michael moaned out loud, his back arching slightly off the mattress as your warm palm slid over his slick tip. he kept his eyes pinned right on yours, refusing to break the intense eye contact even as his breath hitched.

you kept up a slow, steady stroke, feeling the pulse of his heart beating right through his hard skin. "you like that, mike? you like how good my hand feels on your dick?"

"i love it, baby..." he rasped, his voice trembling with pure pleasure. "i been dreamin' 'bout your hands on me like this for so long... thinkin' 'bout how soft you'd feel..."

"i wanted to hold you like this forever," you whispered, leaning forward to kiss his cheek as your hand stroked him again, gathering the slick precum on your palm to make every slide easier. "every time I looked at you in those tight pants, i wondered what you were hidin' under there... never thought you'd be packin' like this for me."

michael let out a quiet, breathless laugh that quickly turned into a heavy groan as you swirled your thumb over his sensitive head. "i wanted to show you, darlin'... i wanted to give you every inch of it. i wanted to lay you down right here and make you forget every other man that ever touched you."

"you already did, baby," you whimpered, your hips twitching subconsciously as the friction of your hand on his length built a suffocating heat between you both. "you're the only one i want."

"then take it, baby... please," he pleaded softly, his hands coming up to gently squeeze your hips, guiding your body closer to his heat. "put it inside you... i wanna feel how tight you are for me."

you bit your lip, the raw temptation nearly washing away all your logic, but you forced yourself to pause. you looked down at his handsome, flushed face, your heart swelling with how much you loved him.

"i want you so bad, baby..." you murmured softly, resting your forehead against his. "i wanna feel you so deep... but we still gotta be safe. we don't have anything tonight."

michael blinked up at you, his dark eyes softening instantly with sweet

understanding. despite the desperate hunger in his body, he nodded without an ounce of hesitation. "i know, darlin'... you're right. whatever you wanna do... as long as i'm close to you."

you smiled, kissing his lips deeply before shifting your body weight. hovering just above him, you used your hand to lay his thick, heavy length flat against his stomach.

slowly, carefully, you lowered yourself back down, positioning your slick, open folds right on top of his hard shaft. you didn't penetrate him, but the moment your wet, sensitive lips pressed directly against the burning heat of his length, both of you gasped in unison.

"oh... god!" michael cried out softly, his hands flying to your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as a violent shiver racked his entire frame.

the moment you rolled your hips down against him, sliding your slick heat back and forth along his full shaft, a intense, electric vibration surged straight through your lower belly—and by the way michael threw his head back, you knew he felt the exact same thing.

"m-michael..." you whimpered, gripping his broad shoulders as you established a slow, agonizingly sexy grinding rhythm over his dick.

"darlin'..." he groaned, his eyes snapping back open, dark and heavy with sheer bliss as he looked up at you. "god, that feels... it feels so good, baby... you're so wet, you're just slidin' all over me..."

"you feel so big under me, mike," you moaned, tilting your chin up as you rolled your hips in a tight, circular motion, rubbing your sensitive center right along his warm length. "it feels like you're almost inside me... so thick and warm..."

"i wish i was, baby... god, i wish i was deep inside you right now," michael rasped, his hips rising up off the bed to match your rhythm, pushing his length hard against your folds. "look at me, darlin'... watch how you're workin' me..."

you locked eyes with him, the intense sexual tension filling the room until it was almost impossible to breathe. every time you slid forward, his slick head bumped right against your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending white-hot sparks through your veins.

every time you slid back, the friction pulled a helpless, raspy moan out of his throat.

"you're so nasty for me, mike..." you whimpered, biting your lip as you sped up the grind, feeling the wet, slapping sounds of your bodies colliding mingling with the quiet music in the background.

"only for you, darlin'..." he gasped out, his thumbs stroking your hips as he rocked his lower body up into yours with relentless, desperate precision. "i'm yours, baby... all yours..."

you leaned down, bringing your lips back to his in a deep, passionate makeout while your hips never stopped their relentless, grinding rhythm over his slick length. michael’s arms wrapped tightly around your back, pulling you flush against his bare chest in a desperate, breath-stealing bear hug.

"i love you so much, baby..." he whispered rasply into your mouth between wet, heavy kisses, his hands gripping your spine tightly. "you feel so good... so damn good to me..."

"i love you too, mike..." you whimpered against his lips, your heart hammering against his chest. "i need you... i'm so needy for you..."

the intense, continuous friction against your sensitive center was too much to bear. your thighs began to tremble uncontrollably, your stamina giving out as another massive wave of pleasure built up in your lower stomach.

"that's it, darlin'..." michael murmured sweetly into your ear, his voice low and comforting despite his own breathless desperation. "let it go, baby... give it to me. i got you... i got you, mama'..."

you couldn't hold back anymore. with a breathless, helpless cry of his name your body gave in completely, shattering into a hard, full-body orgasm right on top of him.

your muscles seized and shook, but michael didn't stop moving. his hands firmly held your waist, continuing to guide your hips in a slow, steady grind over his dick while you came, wringing every last drop of sensitivity out of you.

"m-mike... wait..." you whimpered, breathless and completely spent. you tried to pull back to look down at the messy, wet sight of your combined slickness glistening over his stomach and length, but michael wouldn't let you hide.

his long fingers gently reached up, catching your chin and pulling your face back up to his. "uh-uh, baby... no," he breathed, his voice thick and needy, his dark eyes wide and completely blown out with desire. "i need you to look at me... see how good you make me feel, just like you wanted..."

you looked down into his eyes, your heart melting at the absolute devotion raw on his face. "oh, mike..." you whispered softly, reaching out to gently caress his sweaty cheek, your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. "you're so close, aren't you, baby? do it for me... cum for me, michael."

michael let out a shattered, involuntary moan at your words. his hips rocked up into yours with one last, desperate push.

his eyebrows furrowed in pure, agonized pleasure, his dark eyes rolling back as his jaw locked. hearing the deep, raspy sounds tearing from his throat was the sexiest thing you’d ever witnessed. his body shuddered violently beneath yours as he released, his hot seed spilling over his stomach beneath your grinding hips.

the two of you slowly rode out the trailing shockwaves of your climaxes, your movements slowing until you both collapsed against each other, breathless, sweaty, and completely thoroughly spent.

after taking a few minutes to clean up with a couple of towels from his bathroom, you both shuffled back under the heavy comforter, tangling your bare legs together in the warmth of the bed. the slow, quiet music from the tv screen was still playing softly in the dark.

"damn, mike..." you giggled weakly, resting your head against his bare chest, hearing his heart still racing beneath his skin. "i guess you really weren't as innocent as i thought."

michael let out a soft, melodious laugh, his arm wrapped securely around your waist as his fingers lightly twirled a strand of your hair. "i told you, baby.. i'm still a man."

he turned his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your forehead. the playful mood settled into something deep, quiet, and profoundly sweet.

"i meant what i said earlier, you know," michael whispered into the dark room, his soft midwestern drawl laced with absolute sincerity. "i've been in love with you for years... i just didn't wanna ruin our friendship."

you smiled, leaning up to kiss his jaw. "you could never ruin it, mike. i've been in love with you for just as long."

michael smiled, a look of pure relief and happiness washing over his face. he pulled you even closer, tucking your head right under his chin, holding you tight as if he’d never let you go. satisfied, warm, and completely in love, the two of you slowly drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

[come2gether]

BROOO HIS WAIST

i kinda need to grab that like asap 👀

[szalipcombo]

i see why quincy had to grab it

[kkgalerii]

imagine :

michael loves to bite you ݁ ˖Ი𐑼ֶָ֢

content: 18+, light smut, biting kink, and making out. .☘︎ ݁˖

☁︎ the august evening heat clung heavily to the air outside, but inside your bedroom, the ceiling fan spun lazily overhead, slicing through the warm, golden light cast by the single bedside lamp.

it had been a long, blissfully slow summer day—hours spent out by your backyard pool, laughing until your ribs ached, eating thick slices of cold watermelon, and splashing each other like a pair of kids without a care in the world.

now, the sun had long vanished beneath the horizon, leaving the room bathed in a low, intimate glow.

you stood in front of your vanity mirror wearing a cute baby pink lacy nightgown after your shower, smoothing a generous layer of rich cocoa butter over your dark, warm skin. through the golden reflection of the glass, you watched the bathroom door swing open with a soft, slow creak. michael stepped out, steam billowing behind him into the bedroom air.

his broad shoulders glistened with leftover heat, and dark droplets of water clung to his collarbone, occasionally dripping down his bare chest to catch in the waistband of the crisp white towel wrapped loosely around his hips. he stopped right in the doorway, resting one bare shoulder against the wooden frame.

his dark eyes locked onto you through the mirror, heavy and focused. a dangerous, incredibly playful grin slowly tugged at the corner of his lips, and he bit his bottom lip, watching the slow, rhythmic sweep of your hands over your thighs, the thin pink lace catching the soft light.

"look at you," he murmured, his soft, indiana accent thick, rich, and dripping with quiet amusement. "just takin' your sweet ol' time over there, huh?"

"some of us actually indulge in self care, baby…" you teased back, catching his gaze in the reflection and raising a cool, unbothered eyebrow.

michael let out a low, breathless chuckle, his bare feet making absolutely no sound against the rug as he crossed the room toward you.

before you could even cap the jar of lotion, his long arms wrapped tightly around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against the heat of his chest. he buried his face straight into the crook of your neck, taking a deep, dramatic breath that vibrated right against your collarbone.

"mmm, golly... you smell so damn good, mama," he moaned softly into your skin, his hands smoothing down your slick, freshly moisturized arms, pressing you closer. "so soft... like silk. i swear i could just eat you right up."

you laughed, but the dampness of his skin seeping into your dry pink nightgown made you squirm in his hold. you raised your hand and slapped his forearm playfully. "michael! get off me, you're still soaking wet from the shower! you're gonna ruin my clean nightgown!"

"i don't care," he laughed right against your ear, refusing to loosen his grip by even a millimeter. he playfully fought back, tightening his arms around your waist and planting a barrage of quick, loud, wet kisses along the side of your neck, his soft afro tickling your cheek. "you're too soft, baby. can't help it. 's your fault for lookin' like that in that little pink gown."

with a dramatic twist and a slippery escape, you managed to slide out of his grasp. giggling, you backed away toward the king-sized bed, tumbling backward onto the mattress and tangling yourself into the cool white sheets to build a barrier.

"stay over there!" you warned, pointing a finger at him while trying desperately to keep a straight face. "i mean it, michael!"

michael’s dark eyes flashed with pure, unadulterated mischief. he stood at the edge of the rug, cocking his head to the side, his hands resting on his hips over the white towel.

"oh, you think you can escape me?" he whispered, his voice dropping into a raspy, playful tone. "you think a couple of sheets are gonna stop me, girl?"

before you could scramble to the far side of the bed, michael leaped.

he landed over you with terrifying speed and agility, the mattress sinking beneath his weight. his hands came down instantly on either side of your head, softly pinning your wrists against the pillows. his chest hovered just inches above yours, his damp curls casting tiny, intricate shadows across his cheekbones.

"i just can't get enough of you," he murmured, the playful teasing in his voice shifting into something much lower, much warmer, and entirely heavy. "nothin' in this whole world feels better than this right here. nothin'."

the joking tension in the room dissolved instantly, replaced by a sudden, electric heat that sent your pulse leaping straight into your throat.

you looked up into his dark, liquid eyes, watching the playful boy from the pool vanish, replaced by a man completely consumed by the woman beneath him. his gaze dropped slowly from your eyes, lingering on your parted lips, before settling on the delicate lace near the neckline of your gown.

"michael..." you breathed out, your voice laced with a faint warning that held zero power.

"quiet, mama," he whispered against your jawline, his breath hot and uneven. "let me look at ya."

he didn't wait. he leaned down, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin right beneath your ear before his teeth clamped down in a deliberate, firm bite.

a sharp gasp tore out of your throat, your back arching off the mattress as the sting shot straight down your spine. "michael!"

"shh, i got you," he murmured against the skin, instantly softening the bite by sticking out his warm tongue and soothing the spot with slow, heavy licks.

he sucked the tender mark into his mouth, drawing a breathy, helpless whimper from your lips before pressing a deep, lingering kiss right over it. "you're okay, baby. i got ya."

he moved two inches lower, his fingers tightening their grip on your wrists as his teeth sank into the junction where your neck met your shoulder. this bite was deeper, harder, making you wince and twist beneath him, your thighs instinctively clutching at his hips.

"ah—jackson, wait—"

"i ain't stoppin'," he growled softly, his gary drawl thick, raspy, and full of raw, possessive heat. he licked over the fresh mark again, his tongue dragging slowly over the heated skin until he sucked it firm, leaving a clear, dark blush behind.

he pulled back just an inch, his dark eyes burning as he observed his work resting against your rich, dark skin. "look at that... look how pretty that looks on you. you're mine, girl. all mine."

"you're being mean," you whined softly, though your fingers were wriggling under his palms, wanting nothing more than to touch him.

"i ain't mean, baby, i'm just crazy about you," he whispered, a wicked, irresistible smirk playing on his lips before he dipped his head back down.

he dragged his teeth along the edge of your collarbone, finding the delicate dip near your throat. he bit down firmly, making you let out a high, breathy squeak that made his chest vibrate with a low, satisfied hum.

immediately, his lips were there to soothe it—licking, sucking, and kissing every inch of bruised, sensitive skin he claimed.

"michael, please," you whimpered, your head rolling back into the pillow, overwhelmed by the dizzying mix of sharp sting and unbearable warmth.

"please what, mama?" he whispered against your chest, his teeth nipping lightly over the soft pink lace of your nightgown, right above the swell of your breast. "tell me what you want. you want me to stop?"

"no," you admitted, the word slipping out before you could stop it.

michael let out a low, breathless laugh against your skin, a sound purely triumphant. "i didn't think so."

he moved lower, his hands slipping away from your wrists to slide down your sides, his long fingers gripping your waist through the thin silk of your nightgown with possessive authority.

he dragged his mouth down your sternum, his teeth nipping mercilessly at the soft skin of your ribs beneath the fabric. every bite drew a fresh wince, a small gasp, or a desperate shift of your hips against his. and after every single bite, his warm tongue would follow, licking away the sting, his lips pressing deep, possessive kisses into your dark skin.

by the time he reached your stomach, pushing the hem of the pink gown up slightly, his teeth grazed the sensitive skin right near your navel, making your entire body jump.

"ah! michael!" you gasped, your hands flying down to bury into his damp, soft curls, pulling him close rather than pushing him away.

he bit down gently one last time, holding the soft skin between his teeth for a long, agonizing second before releasing it and burying his face against your stomach, licking the spot sweet and slow. he pulled back, hovering over your stomach, his dark eyes tracking up your body to take in the sight of you—breathless, flushed, marked by his mouth, and completely undone beneath him in that little lace gown.

"golly, you're breathtaking," he breathed out, his voice reduced to a quiet, hoarse whisper. "look at what you do to me, baby. just look at you."

he slid himself back up your body, the friction of his damp chest against yours sending a shiver straight through you. he rested his heavy weight over you, his hands coming up to frame your face, his long thumbs gently tracing the line of your jawline, stopping at your lower lip.

"you hurt me," you pouted weakly, though your eyes were heavy and clouded with affection.

michael smiled, a sweet, unbelievably tender look softening his sharp features. he leaned down, pressing his forehead lightly against yours, his gary accent low, sweet, and honeyed as he spoke into the tiny space between your lips.

"i'll make it up to you, mama," he whispered, his thumb lightly stroking your lip before he captured your mouth in a deep, slow, breathtaking kiss. "i'll make it up to you all night long."

[kkgalerii]

on the road ⋆˚࿔ ⛟

— ᨳଓ . description; when a freezing bus lock-in forces you and your best friend michael under the same blanket, a game of truth or dare turns years of hidden craving into pure heat!

content: 18+, smut, bestfriends to lovers, thejacksons!michael, truth or dare, fingering, dryhumping, photographer!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖꒰ঌ ໒꒱.⋆˚࿔

being the head photographer for the jacksons was a dream job, but it came with a very specific set of rules—mostly ones you made for yourself. the brothers absolutely adored you, treating you like the little sister they never had.

marlon was always stealin' your camera lens caps, randy would act like a total goof whenever you pointed a flash at him, and jermaine made sure you always had a warm plate of food after long, exhausting soundchecks.

then there was michael.

you and michael were the exact same age. you’d practically grown up in each other’s pockets, sharing secrets on tire swings long before stadium lights, screaming fans, and record deals were ever a factor.

you considered him your absolute best friend. but as the years rolled on, things shifted. michael had developed a crush on you that was as clear as day.

the brothers saw it instantly—the way his eyes tracked you across the backstage chaos, the way he’d suddenly straighten his posture when you walked in, the quiet, soft-spoken smiles reserved only for you. everyone knew. except you... or rather, you chose not to see it.

you weren't ditzy; you just kept yourself guarded. you were deeply attracted to michael—how could you not be?—but you refused to mix love with business. tour was complicated enough.

losing your best friend and your job over a messy backstage romance wasn't a risk you were willing to take. so, you kept him firmly in the "just a good friend" box.

until tonight.

the tour buses pulled into the hotel parking lot late into the freezing night. in your room, it was just you and michael, sharing a space with two separate double beds.

but as you sat on the edge of your mattress trying to upload the day’s shots, you realized your main camera memory card was missing.

you slipped your shoes back on. "i left the card on the bus. all of today's soundcheck photos are on it."

"hold on, it's real dark out there. cold, too. i'm comin' with you," michael insisted, grabbing his sweater. "you ain't walkin' out there alone."

the two of you stepped out into the biting night air, quick-steppin' toward the parked tour buses. for thirty agonizing minutes, you and michael searched on your hands and knees in the dark bus. shivering and empty-handed, you gave up. but when michael reached for the exit handle... it was jammed locked.

trapped on a freezing, dormant bus until morning, you both accepted your fate. there was one narrow cubbied bed with a thick quilt, and a small dining booth across the aisle.

"you take the bed," michael said right away, unzipping his oversized jacket and sitting at the vinyl booth with his songbook. "i'll be just fine over here with my music."

"are you sure, mike?" you asked, crawling into the narrow bunk and pulling the heavy quilt to your chin. "it looks freezing over there."

"i'm tough, don't worry 'bout me," he insisted softly.

within ten minutes, michael was hunched over his paper, his arms pulled completely inside his sweater sleeves, shivering so hard his pen was slipping.

you watched him from across the aisle, the quiet scritch-scratch of his pen failing to hide the violent shudder in his shoulders.

a soft giggle escaped you. "michael... it’s warmer over here. come lay down before you freeze to death."

he stopped writing, his big doe eyes blinking as he peeked out from his collar. "you sure? the bed’s kinda small... i really didn't wanna crowd you, sweet thing."

"just come on," you murmured, shifting your body all the way against the padded back wall to clear a spot. "stop bein' stubborn. you're gonna freeze."

michael offered a sweet, grateful smile, slid out of the booth, and hurried across the icy floorboards in his socks. he hovered at the edge of the bunk, looking down uncertainly until you lifted the heavy edge of the quilt.

"here," you offered gently. "get in."

he slid in beside you, bringing a temporary rush of cold air that was instantly burned away by his body heat. the space was tiny—so tight his shoulder was pressed flush against yours, his chest right there in your peripheral vision as he pulled the heavy quilt all the way up over both of your heads.

it created a dark, warm little cocoon, illuminated only by the faint, amber glow of the tiny reading light overhead. the scent of his perfume, mixed with the soft cotton of his shirt, immediately filled the tiny space.

"gosh, that's way better," michael breathed, letting out a soft, relieved sigh. his face was only a few inches from yours on the shared pillow. "you're so warm..."

you lay on your side, staring into those big dark eyes. the quiet hum of the dormant bus, the howling wind outside, and the sheer closeness of his breath made the air between you feel heavy and charged.

"since we’re stuck here for hours," you whispered, a teasing smirk playing on your lips, "we need somethin' to pass the time. truth or dare?"

michael blinked, a quiet, breathy chuckle escaping him as he adjusted the blanket under his chin. "truth or dare? jeez, what are we, twelve years old again?"

"come on, mike. don't tell me the big stage star is scared of a little game," you teased, nudging his leg with your knee under the thick covers. "i'll go real easy on you to start. truth or dare?"

michael squinted at you, a playful glint lighting up his eyes. "truth. hit me."

"alright..." you tapped your chin thoughtfully. "what’s the most embarrassing thing randy’s done on this tour so far?"

michael burst into a quiet, high-pitched giggle, hiding his mouth behind his hand so he wouldn't laugh too loud. "oh, man. easy.

he tried to do a cool slide across the stage during rehearsal in chicago and completely ripped his trousers right down the seam. jermaine had to throw a towel right at his face!"

you snorted, laughing softly into your pillow. "no way! how did i miss that?"

"you were backstage loadin' film!" michael laughed softly, shaking his head. "okay, my turn. truth or dare, pretty lady?"

"truth," you said proudly.

michael’s grin turned mischievous. "who’s your absolute least favorite brother to shoot photos of? tell the truth now."

"oh, that's mean!" you gasped playfully. "marlon. definitely marlon. he can't sit still for two seconds! every time i click the shutter, he's makin' a ridiculous face or stealin' my lens cap."

michael giggled, resting his cheek against the pillow, looking right at you. "he really does steal those caps every single day just to hear you yell."

"right? okay, your turn," you said, settling deeper into the mattress. the light playful mood was nice, but you wanted to push the envelope just a little bit. "truth or dare, jackson?"

"truth again," he murmured, his voice dropping slightly as he watched your eyes. "ask me anything."

"okay..." you leaned in a fraction closer. "who took that polaroid of me backstage yesterday? the one i caught tucked inside your songbook?"

michael froze. the playful grin melted off his face, replaced by a dark red blush that surged up his neck and flooded his cheeks. "i—you saw that?" he stammered, his long fingers nervously tugging at the seam of the quilt. "hey, that ain't fair!"

"answer the truth, mike. it's the rules of the game."

"fine..." he muttered, looking down shyly, his eyelashes casting long shadows in the amber light. "i took it. you just... you looked real pretty, okay? standin' in that gold stage light... i couldn't help myself."

your heart did a sudden, violent flip against your ribs. the air inside the blanket cocoon suddenly felt ten degrees hotter.

"your turn," you whispered, your voice losing its playful edge.

michael looked back up, his soft brown eyes searching your face. the nervous stutter in his breathing was obvious now. "truth or dare?"

"truth." you grin.

michael bit his lower lip, his voice dropping to a low, trembling whisper that vibrated right against your chest. "why do you always act like you don't notice when i look at you? you always act like... like i'm just your buddy."

the silence that followed was deafening. the wind outside seemed to vanish, replaced entirely by the sound of his ragged breathing and the fast, heavy thud of your own pulse in your ears.

"because," you whispered back, the words catching in your throat. "i was scared. i was scared if i let myself see it... if i let myself react... i'd ruin everything. our friendship. my job on tour. i didn't want to lose you, mike."

michael stared at you, his dark eyes shining with an intensity so raw it took your breath away. "is that the only reason?" he asked softly. "just... fear?"

you looked down at his soft lips, then back up to his eyes. the strict wall you’d built between work and friendship didn't just crumble, it vanished completely.

"truth or dare, mike?" you asked quietly, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm.

michael didn't hesitate, his gaze locked onto yours. "dare."

you reached out, your hand slipping up to cup the side of his warm neck, your thumb resting right over his racing pulse. "i dare you to stop bein' scared."

michael swallowed hard, his dark eyes flashing with a sudden, beautiful confidence. "i ain't scared no more," he whispered softly.

he closed the tiny distance between you, his lips pressing gently against yours.

it started as a sweet, hesitant brush—a quiet question asked in the warm dark of the blanket. but as you let out a soft sigh against his mouth, months of holding back exploded. michael’s hands, warm and trembling slightly, reached out to hesitantly grasp your waist.

gaining his confidence, he pulled you firmly onto him, bringing your body flush against his in the narrow bed.

the kiss deepened into a long, seamless makeout session. it was tender, deep, and intoxicating, filled with years of unspoken longing.

his long fingers tangled into your hair, holding you right where he wanted you, while you slid your arms around his neck, feeling the fast, steady thud of his heart against your chest.

every time he broke the kiss to breathe, he’d pepper soft, trailing kisses along your cheek, your jaw, and the corner of your smile, before pulling your lips right back to his with a quiet, needy sigh.

when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours, both of you were breathless, flushed, and tangled up together under the heavy quilt.

his hand stayed wrapped snugly around your waist, his thumb gently stroking through your shirt.

michael smiled—a radiant, breathtaking expression in the dim amber light. "gosh... i think i like this game, baby."

the word slipped out of his mouth so naturally, so effortlessly, that he didn't even notice at first. but you did. you froze, a wide, teasing grin slowly spreading across your face.

"wait a minute..." you murmured, leaning up to nudge his nose with yours. "'baby'?"

michael’s eyes widened slightly, his cheeks instantly warming up all over again. "i—jeez, did i say that?"

"you sure did, jackson," you giggled, running your fingers teasingly through his dark curls. "getting comfortable, aren't we?"

michael let out a soft, shy chuckle, burying his face into your neck for a second before looking back at you, his eyes brimming with sweet honesty.

"well... i've always wanted to call you that," he whispered, his voice dropping low as his hand down your back. "ever since i can remember."

your heart melted right there in his arms. "oh yeah?"

"yeah," he murmured, his gaze darkening again as he looked at your mouth. "and we ain't done playin'. my turn. truth or dare, baby?"

a thrill ran up your spine at the sound of the nickname. "truth."

michael leaned down, his lips brushing right against the sensitive skin beneath your ear, his warm breath making you shiver. "truth..." he whispered husky, "when i pulled you on top of me just now... where did you wanna put your hands?"

your breath hitched sharply. you pulled back just enough to look at him, shocked by how smooth and bold he was suddenly bein'. "michael!" you gasped, your face burning red.

"hey, it's a truth!" he giggled softly, his hands tight on your waist, tugging you just an inch closer so your hips rested against his. "answer it for me, baby."

"i..." you swallowed hard, staring into his dark, hungry eyes. "i wanted to slide my hands right under your sweater. feel your bare skin."

michael let out a soft, shaky breath, his eyes widening slightly as his grip on your waist tightened. a slow, satisfied smile bit at his lips. "gosh..." he whispered. "okay. your turn."

you smirked, leaning down until your lips were hovering a millimeter over his. "truth or dare, mike?"

"dare," he rasped without a second thought.

"i dare you..." you whispered, sliding your hands slowly down his chest, stopping right at the hem of his sweater, "...to let me."

michael’s breath hitched completely. a low, needy hum escaped his throat as he grabbed your waist, pulling you all the way back down into another deep, breathless kiss, his hands guiding yours right up beneath the warm fabric of his shirt.

the room inside the quilt felt like an oven now, the freezing air outside the bus completely forgotten. the heat radiating off michael’s skin under his sweater was intoxicating, and the soft, needy sound he let out as your warm palm pressed against his ribs sent a shiver straight down your spine.

he broke the kiss just enough to breathe, his dark eyes heavy, hooded, and completely focused on your lips. his hands were firmly planted on your hips, keeping you pinned right where he wanted you. flush against his body in the narrow bed.

"gosh," michael rasped, his voice a quiet, breathless murmur against your cheek. "you... you're drive-in' me crazy, baby."

you let out a quiet, breathless laugh, feeling his heart hammer wildly under your fingertips. "your turn, jackson. truth or dare?"

michael’s thumb stroked a slow circle over your hip bone through your pants. "truth," he whispered, his eyes flicking down to your mouth. "tell me... when you’re takin' photos of me on stage... do you ever look at my mouth and think about this?"

you bit your bottom lip, a wave of heat rushing through your chest. "every single show," you confessed softly, sliding your hands further up his bare chest, feeling the smooth warmth of his skin. "especially when you sing the slow songs. i'd pretend the camera wasn't even there."

michael let out a low, shaky exhale, his grip on your hips tightening just a fraction. a slow, smoldering smirk spread across his lips—a look that was pure confidence, completely different from the shy boy who was shivering twenty minutes ago.

"my turn," you whispered, leaning down so your nose brushed against his. "truth or dare?"

"dare," michael said instantly, his dark eyes challenging yours. "make it good, baby."

"i dare you to tell me the dirtiest thought you've had about me since we started this tour."

michael froze for a split second, his breath catching in his throat. a deep, gorgeous flush flooded his dark skin, but he didn't pull away.

instead, he leaned up, his lips brushing right against the shell of your ear, his warm breath making every hair on your neck stand up.

"i thought about what it’d feel like to have you locked in my hotel room..." he whispered husky, his voice dipping into a low, velvet gravel. "...no cameras, no brothers, no schedule. just you stripped down in my bed, let-in' me touch you everywhere i wasn't supposed to."

a sharp gasp escaped your lips. you pulled back just enough to look at him, your chest heaving. "michael..."

"you asked for the truth, baby," he murmured, a dangerous, playful glint in his eyes as he pulled you back down by your waist. "truth or dare?"

"truth..." you rasped, your pulse hammering in your ears.

"where’s the most sensitive spot on your body?" he asked, his long fingers gently sliding up from your hip, his thumb lightly dragging along the sensitive skin of your lower belly just beneath the hem of your shirt. "where do you want me touchin' you right now?"

your eyes fluttered shut at his touch. "right there," you breathed out, your voice trembling. "and... my neck."

michael didn't hesitate. before you could even open your eyes, his lips were on your neck, pressing a series of open-mouthed, hot kisses right along your jawline down to your collarbone. you let out a quiet gasp, your fingers clutching tightly at the bare skin of his shoulders under his sweater.

"truth or dare, mike?" you whimpered,

shifting your weight slightly over him.

"dare," he groaned against your skin, his hands sliding down to cup the curve of your backside, holding you firmly against him.

"i dare you to kiss every inch of skin you can reach without takin' my shirt off," you challenged, your breath coming in short, needy hitches.

michael gritted his teeth, a low hum vibrating in his chest. he immediately pulled your shirt up just far enough, burying his face in the soft skin of your stomach.

he kissed your waist, your ribs, trailing hot, wet kisses up toward the bottom of your bra, making you arch your back into him with a quiet whimper.

"gosh, you taste so sweet, baby," he muttered breathlessly against your skin, his hands pulling you even tighter against his torso. he looked up at you through his thick dark lashes, completely flushed. "truth or dare?"

"dare..." you gasped, resting your forehead against his chest.

"i dare you to ride my lap," michael whispered rasped, his eyes dark and hungry. "sit right on top of me."

your heart stopped for a beat. without a word, you shifted, swinging one leg over his body so you were straddling his thighs, hovering right over his lap in the narrow bunk. the shift in position brought your hips directly in contact with his.

michael let out a harsh, sharp breath, his hands instantly gripping your thighs to steady you. "jeez..." he groaned, his eyes fluttering closed for a second as he felt your weight on him.

"my turn," you whispered, leaning down so your breasts brushed against his chest, your voice thick with heat. "truth or dare, michael?"

"dare," he gasped out, his hands squeezing your thighs tightly.

"i dare you to show me how much you want me."

that was the final snap. michael’s restraint shattered into pieces.

"dare," he rasped out under his breath, his hands moving from your thighs straight to your hips.

with a low, needy growl, michael lifted his hips up into yours, rolling his pelvis directly against you through your clothes. the sudden, intense friction made a loud gasp fly out of your throat.

he didn't stop—he began a slow, agonizing rhythm, rolling his heavy weight against you from underneath, grinding his hips up into yours while his hands dug into your waist to keep you locked to his rhythm.

"michael... oh god..." you whimpered, throwing your head back as the intense heat pooled straight between your legs.

"tell me it feels good, baby," michael rasped out, his breathing completely wrecked as he thrust his hips up into yours again, the heavy friction of your jeans dragging against his trousers making him bite his lower lip until it was white. "tell me you like it..."

"i love it, mike..." you gasped out, your fingers gripping his shoulders through his sweater as you rode the slow, heavy movement of his hips.

he groaned at your words..a deep, chest-vibrating sound and pulled your head down to capture your mouth in a frantic, desperate kiss. he rolled his hips up into yours with more force, grinding hard against you, making both of you gasp for air under the heavy quilt.

the entire narrow bus bed shook softly beneath you as the game of truth or dare dissolved completely into a hot, continuous wave of pure, heavy friction in the dark.

every time his hips hit yours, he’d murmur sweet, breathless assurances against your lips—"i got you, baby... i got you..."—holding you tight against him as the freezing night raged on outside, completely forgotten in the heat of the narrow bunk.

the air inside the dark, heavy cocoon of the quilt was suffocatingly hot, thick with humidity and the rich, intoxicating scent of his perfume mixing with the sweet heat building between your bodies. outside, the freezing night wind howled against the metal hull of the tour bus, making the bunk feel like the only warm place left in the entire world.

the slow, agonizing roll michael was setting from underneath you was driving you out of your mind, but the narrow space and the heavy layers of clothes were making both of you desperate, restless, and completely undone.

you let out a sharp, frustrated whimper against his lips, your fingers tangling tight in the soft dark curls at the nape of his neck. "mike... please..."

in one smooth, surprisingly powerful motion, he grabbed you firmly by the waist, his long fingers digging into your hip bones.

he flipped you onto your back against the narrow mattress. you gasped, the breath knocked right out of your lungs as your thighs naturally fell open.

michael instantly slid right between them.

he settled his full, heavy length flush on top of you, his broad chest pressing firmly into yours, his hips fitting directly into the warm, damp space between your thighs.

through his trousers and your jeans, you could feel every rigid, throbbing inch of his hardness pressing right against your center.

"gosh..." michael groaned into your neck, his whole body shuddering as he felt your warmth beneath him. "jeez, baby... look at you."

before you could move, his long, slender fingers laced firmly through yours. with effortless strength, he pinned your hands up beside your head on the pillow, gathering both of your wrists into just one of his broad hands, locking them securely above you.

"michael..." you whimpered, your heels digging into the mattress as you tried to roll your hips up to meet his.

"shh... stay right there, baby," michael whispered, his voice dipping into a low, hypnotic rumble right against your ear. "just stay real still for me. let me look at you."

he lifted his hips just a fraction of an inch and brought them down with a slow, agonizingly heavy roll, grinding his hard length directly against your sweet spot through your clothes. the sheer, relentless friction made a loud, pathetic whimper tear from your throat.

michael smiled against your cheek—a slow, sweet, utterly possessive expression. "look at you... so quiet and shy for everyone else on this tour... but makin' all these pretty little noises just for me."

"michael, please..." you gasped, your pulse hammering in your throat.

"truth or dare, baby?" michael rasped out, his hips giving another deep, rolling thrust that made the bed springs squeak softly beneath you.

"truth!" you sobbed out, your chest heaving against his. "truth!"

michael gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching as he held your wrists locked above your head. "truth..." he groaned, his dark, glazed eyes searching yours in the faint amber light.

"tell me... when you see me on stage and i pull my shirt up... or when i slide down on my knees in front of thousands of screamin' people... do you pretend i'm doin' it just for you?"

you whimpered, arching your back into his heavy downward pressure. "yes!" you confessed, your voice breaking. "every single night! i pretend you're lookin' right through the lens at me!"

michael let out a low, dark hum of pure satisfaction, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline down to your pulse point. "i am," he whispered husky. "every single time, baby. i'm only ever lookin' for you."

he shifted his weight slightly, rolling his pelvis against yours in a continuous, agonizingly slow circle that made your toes curl.

"my turn..." you panted, struggling to catch your breath. "truth or dare, jackson?"

"truth," he panted instantly, his thumb lightly stroking the back of your pinned hands. "ask me, baby."

"tell me the exact moment you decided you were gonna stop playin' nice and finally touch me tonight."

michael let out a ragged exhale, his eyes fluttering closed as his hips kept up that heavy, rhythmic roll. "when you giggled at me shivering in that booth," he rasped out, his breath burning hot against your ear.

"when you lifted that quilt and told me to come lay down next to you. i walked over to this bed, and i said to myself... if she lets me under this blanket, i ain’t ever lettin' her go."

a sharp, breathless thrill shot straight down into your belly. "mike..."

"dare or truth, baby?" michael murmured, his tone dripping with soft, commanding authority. "choose."

"dare..." you gasped out, desperate for more.

michael’s dark eyes flashed with a smoldering, dangerous heat. "i dare you to unbutton my shirt," he whispered, his voice dropping into a low, velvet gravel. "use your teeth. and don't you dare close those pretty eyes while you do it. look right at me."

your heart hammered against your ribs. michael slowly released your wrists, letting your arms fall onto the pillow. you reached up, your hands trembling as you cupped his warm cheeks.

you leaned up, your dark eyes locked onto his, and caught the top button of his shirt between your teeth. you tugged gently until it popped free of the fabric, your warm breath brushing right against the bare skin of his collarbone.

michael let out a low, shaky gasp, his eyes darkening as he watched you work. "gosh, you're so sweet..." he rasped out. "so sweet for me."

slowly, agonizingly, you worked your way down to the second button, clicking it free with your teeth and pressing your lips to the warm, smooth skin of his chest. michael growled low in his throat, his hips grinding down into yours in a long, punishing roll that made you gasp against his neck.

finally, michael’s hand slid down, shoving straight past the waistband of your pants. his long, warm fingers slid beneath the thin fabric of your underwear, finding the slick, burning heat of your center.

you let out a sharp, loud gasp, your head snapping back against the pillow as his long fingers cupped you, his thumb finding your wet, swollen sweet spot with devastating accuracy.

"michael—oh god!" you whined into the air, your thighs spreading wider for him completely on instinct.

"shh, open your eyes," michael commanded softly, his voice thick and gentle, yet entirely in control. "look at me, baby. i wanna see your eyes while i feel how wet you are for me."

you forced your eyes open, staring up into his flushed, gorgeous face. michael didn't rush. he began an agonizingly slow, light pressure with his thumb, just barely tracing circles over your warm skin, teasing you until you were practically begging.

"michael, please... move your hand..." you whimpered, rolling your hips up into his palm, desperate for friction.

michael smiled, a dark, fond little look in his eyes as he held his hand completely still, letting you burn. "truth or dare, baby?" he whispered, his hips giving a lazy, heavy press against yours.

"truth!" you gasped out, tears of frustration teasing your eyes. "truth, mike, just touch me!"

"truth..." michael murmured, his thumb giving one slow, firm drag right over your sweet spot, making you cry out softly. "tell me what it feels like when i tease you like this. tell me how needy you are for me."

"it's drivin' me crazy!" you sobbed out, clutching his shoulders. "it feels so hot... i'm so needy for you, mike! please..."

"that's my girl," michael rasped, his tone melting into pure velvet praise. "good girl for me..."

he finally increased the pressure, his thumb slicking your warmth all over your sensitive skin in slow, rhythmic strokes while his heavy hips kept up a steady, rolling grind against your thigh.

he leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his dark eyes fixed on your mouth as he watched every single expression cross your face.

"dare," you gasped out, your voice barely a breath as his thumb dragged across that swollen sweet spot again, sending electricity shooting straight up your spine. "give me a dare, mike..."

michael’s dark eyes burned down into yours, heavy-lidded and dripping with raw, possessive intent. his hips gave a long, excruciatingly slow grind against yours, holding his weight heavy on top of you.

"i dare you..." he rasped out, his voice dropping into a low, velvet gravel right against your ear, "...to put your hands on my hips, right where my trousers meet my skin, and pull me down as hard as you can. i dare you to feel how bad my body is shakin' for you, baby."

you didn't hesitate. your trembling hands slid down his broad back, fingers digging into the firm skin just beneath the band of his trousers.

you pulled him down hard, jamming his heavy length flush against your heat. michael let out a ragged, guttural groan into your neck, his whole frame shuddering as he felt the intense, seamless friction between you.

"gosh... jeez, baby," he panted, his hot breath burning your skin. "you're trying to ruin me..."

"truth or dare, jackson?" you whimpered, your heels digging into the mattress, your hips rolling helplessly into his palm as the tension in your lower belly coiled tighter and tighter.

"truth," he gasped out instantly, his thumb tracing a small, firm circle right where you needed it most, making your hips jump. "ask me, baby... ask me anything you want."

"truth..." you sobbed softly, tears of pure, agonizing pleasure pricking your eyes. "tell me... what's the dirtiest thing you've ever thought about doing to me when we're alone?"

michael gritted his teeth, a dark, dangerous smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he rolled his hips in a deep, punishing circle against yours.

"i thought about bending you over the mixing console in the studio," he confessed shameless, his voice dropping into a dirty, husky rumble that sent shivers straight to your toes. "with the door unlocked... pullin' your skirt up and hearin' you try so hard to stay quiet while my brothers were right down the hall."

a sharp, breathless cry tore from your throat, your thighs clamping tight around his hip. "michael!"

"truth or dare, baby?" michael murmured instantly, not giving you a single second to recover, his thumb speeding up just enough to keep you hovering right on the edge of the abyss.

"truth!" you panted, writhing beneath his heavy, loving weight. "truth!"

"truth..." michael whispered, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart stop. "tell me what it sounds like when you're alone in your room thinkin' about me. do you whisper my name when you touch yourself?"

your face flushed bright red, a loud, pathetic whimper escaping your lips. "yes!" you cried out, completely undone by his soft, commanding authority. "yes, mike! every single time!"

michael let out a low, victorious growl, his chest vibrating against yours. "i knew it," he rasped, his face flushing with dark pride. "i knew my sweet girl was thinkin' about me..."

he leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy, breathless, greedy kiss, his tongue sliding deep into your mouth, swallowing every needy whimpering sound you made.

slowly, deliberately, his long fingers slid deep inside you, stretching you gently while his thumb pressed hard, fast, and relentless against your sweet spot.

"oh god... michael!" you gasped against his lips, your body curling upward around his hand as the sensation flooded every inch of you.

michael set an agonizingly sweet, steady rhythm with his fingers, pumping inside you with slow, deep thrusts while his thumb worked your center. he looked down into your eyes, his gaze overflowing with pure adoration, completely wrapped up in how beautiful you looked beneath him.

"you like that, baby?" he whispered rasped, his breath hot against your neck as his fingers curled inside you, finding every sensitive spot. "you feel how good you wrap around my fingers? so warm... so wet for me..."

"mike... please... it's too much..." you sobbed out, your hands clutching his shoulders, your back arching off the narrow mattress.

"shh, just let go for me," michael murmured lovingly, his lips pressing soft, worshipful kisses along your collarbone, your jaw, and the corner of your lips.

his hand worked faster, his fingers curling deeper into your heat, driving you completely out of your mind. "look at me, baby. tell me... you wish that it was me inside of you, huh?"

a breathless, helpless sob tore from your throat, your eyes locked onto his blown-out, dark pupils. "yes!" you screamed softly into the quiet space beneath the quilt. "yes, mike! god, yes!"

"that's my girl..." michael rasped out, his thumb pressing hard against your sweet spot while his fingers thrust deep one last time, driving you straight over the edge. "take it all for me, baby..."

the electric coil in your belly shattered completely. violent, rolling waves of pure, uncontrollable pleasure crashed through your entire frame, your tight muscles pulsing wildly around his fingers. your head snapped back, your heels digging into the bed as a high, breathless cry echoed under the quilt.

michael held you tight against his broad chest, his fingers staying deep inside you to ride out every single wave of your climax, swallowing your sweet, messy cries with soft, worshipful kisses. "gosh... look at you," he whispered breathlessly, his tone dripping with pure romance and devotion. "so gorgeous... so good for me..."

as your breathing slowly began to settle and the intense trembling in your thighs softened, michael gently slipped his hand out from beneath your clothes. he reached up, tenderly brushing a damp curl away from your forehead, kissing your temple with sweet affection.

it was only then, as you rested your cheek against his chest, that you noticed the heavy, rigid strain still pressing tight against your thigh through his trousers. he was completely unfulfilled, his breathing still ragged and strained, yet he was making no move to touch himself or fix his clothes.

you lifted your head slightly, looking up into his dark, soft eyes. "mike... what about you?" you asked gently, your hand reaching down toward his belt. "you... you didn't..."

michael caught your wrist gently, shaking his head with a sweet, tender smile that made your heart completely melt.

"i'm okay, baby," he whispered softly, pulling your hand up to press a warm kiss against your knuckles. "it's alright. i only wanted to tend to your needs tonight. just seein' you give it all to me like that... feelin' you call my name... that's more than enough for me."

he pulled you tight against his chest, wrapping the thick quilt around both of your shoulders as the wind howled harmlessly outside, holding you close and cherished in the warm, dark quiet of the bus.

the heavy quilt was pulled all the way up to your shoulders, trapping every bit of shared heat in the quiet, dark cocoon of the narrow bunk. your head rested comfortably on michael’s bare chest, the steady, rhythmic thud of his heartbeat serving as a soothing lullaby against the low howl of the icy wind outside.

michael’s long fingers were tangled lazily in your hair, his thumb stroking smooth, gentle circles against your temple. every few minutes, he’d press a tender, lingering kiss to the top of your head, whispering sweet, drowsy praises against your skin until your eyelids grew too heavy to keep open.

"go to sleep, baby," he murmured, his voice dipping into a soft, velvety rumble as he pulled you even closer, his arm wrapped around your waist like a protective shield. "i got you. i ain't goin' nowhere."

wrapped in his warmth and the lingering, sweet ache of the night, you let out a soft, contented sigh and finally drifted off, completely safe in his arms.

the quiet dawn crept over the horizon, casting a soft, cool blue light through the frost-dusted windows of the dormant bus.

click.

the heavy emergency door handle at the front of the bus finally gave way with a sharp metallic pop, followed by the heavy thud of boots stepping onto the cold floorboards.

"hey! anyone in here? mike? you guys in here?"

jermaine’s deep, groggy voice echoed down the aisle as he walked toward the back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes after getting the spare key from the hotel desk. he strolled past the small dining booth, looking around for any sign of you or his younger brother.

when he reached the small sleeping cubby, he froze.

the heavy quilt was slightly pulled down, revealing you fast asleep, your face buried comfortably in the crook of michael’s neck.

michael’s arms were wrapped snugly around your body, his face turned toward yours, his dark curls spilling over the shared pillow. his unbuttoned shirt left his smooth chest exposed, right where your hand was comfortably rested.

jermaine blinked once. then twice. a wide, slow smirk spread across his face as he took in the scene.

"well, well, well..." jermaine chuckled softly under his breath, shaking his head. he leaned against the frame of the booth, crossing his arms with a quiet, knowing grin. "about damn time."

he reached out and gave the edge of the mattress a quick, loud tap with his knuckles. "wake up, lovebirds. tour bus leaves in an hour, and marlon’s already down in the lobby asking where his lens cap went."

michael stirred instantly, his eyelids fluttering open as he let out a low, sleepy groan. he instinctively tightened his grip around you, pulling you closer before his dark eyes blinked up and landed right on his older brother.

a dark red blush surged up michael’s neck instantly, his eyes widening in mild panic as he realized how completely caught you both were. "jermaine! i—we—it ain't—"

jermaine just laughed softly, raising his hands in fake surrender as he turned to walk back toward the exit. "save it for the breakfast table, little brother. but you better help her find that camera card before marlon starts digging through her bags."

as jermaine’s footsteps faded down the aisle, michael looked down at you, his face burning, though a shy, radiant smile slowly broke through his flustered expression.

you stirred against his chest, blinking sleepily up at him with a mischievous grin. "caught us, huh?"

michael let out a quiet, breathless chuckle, leaning down to press a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips. "looks like it, baby..." he whispered, his eyes glinting with a dark, romantic promise. "...and we still got a long way to go on this tour."

[lil6uapa]

it doesn't count michael jackson

michael jackson x f!reader ────୨ৎ──── ♡ wc: 6.2k

synopsis: michael has always believed intimacy belongs in marriage. but as temptation becomes harder to resist, he starts convincing himself that maaaybe some things just don’t count

cw: smut, established relationship, mutual pining, religious/moral conflict, manipulation if u squint ?, poor decision making n even worse excuses, pathetic!michael lowk, v nasty... like actually nasty as hell, loud whiny michael, thriller!michael

michael’s mother had drummed very specific principles into him since he was young, and they always stayed in the back of his mind. he’d grown up believing that a woman was someone you treated with total reverence — someone you protected and cherished. to him, saving the ultimate intimacy for a marriage wasn't just a rule. it was a way to keep something holy.

when you two started dating five months ago, he wanted that structure. he wanted to show you that he loved your mind and your spirit, that he could be the perfect gentleman who honoured the promises you both made to wait.

and for a while, it was easy. you slipped into a comfortable rhythm where everything else seemed to fade into the background. he loved the ordinary days most — the afternoons spent lying in your bed and talking about nothing in particular for hours, sharing snacks, or teasing each other until his stomach ached from laughing.

michael was the kind of boyfriend who couldn't keep his hands off you in the gentlest ways. he’d always reach out to loop his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his side, or he’d absentmindedly drum out little beats against your knee with his fingers while you talked. it was the little things.

but lately, something had started to change.

every time he kissed you, the boundaries he'd worked so hard to maintain seemed to blur a little more. the sweet, chaste kisses had slowly shifted over the last few weeks, turning into something… hungrier.

you'd spend hours tangled together in the dark, your mouths moving lazily against each other's as your tongues brushed and tangled until both your heads were spinning. by the time he finally forced himself to pull away, his heart would be battering against his ribs, his jeans painfully tight. he'd lower his face into the crook of your neck, pretending he simply wanted to hold you a little longer when really he was trying to hide how badly he ached for you.

eventually, the heat didn't even need a kiss to spark anymore.

just being around you distracted him, clouding his mind with thoughts that left his skin burning with shame.

he'd started doing things he never would've dared during those first few months of dating. his hands, once so careful, had begun wandering without him even realizing it. he'd find excuses to press the growing hardness in his jeans against your hip during a simple hug, letting out a shaky breath as he subtly nudged himself closer just to feel the warmth of your body.

if you were standing in the kitchen, he’d hover behind you, his front flushing right against your ass while he pretended to reach for something, letting his long fingers drag along the curve of your waist a second longer than they needed to. he was becoming a fiend for your body, his lidded eyes constantly tracking the way your clothes clung to you or staring at your ass when you walked past him.

just the other day, you were sitting cross-legged on the floor by his stereo, letting his pet snake, muscles, coil lazily around your arms while your fingers brushed lightly over his scales. you were wearing his button-down shirt that slipped slightly off one side, exposing the smooth curve of your collarbone and the top of your shoulder. michael had been standing near the window, but his eyes were glued onto you.

he watched the slow glide of your fingertips along the scales, and a completely different — dirty image flashed in his mind. It was so filthy that it made his stomach drop.

he imagined walking over right in front of you, unbuckling his belt and letting his hard, aching dick spring free at your eye level. he pictured catching your wrist, gently lifting your hand away and guiding your palm straight onto his skin. he wanted to teach you exactly how to hold him, wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft and moving your hand in that same stroke you were using right now.

he could practically feel the warmth of your hand squeezing him, sliding all the way down to his base and back up to the wet tip. he’d bite his lip as he looked down at you, a groan slipping from his chest as you coated your palm in his precum.

a hot blush rushed straight to his cheeks the second he snapped back to reality. his heart was hammering, and he could feel the thick length of his dick swelling and pressing uncomfortably against the denim of his jeans.

michael quickly licked his lips, pressing them together in that nervous habit of his, pretending to fuss with the cuffs of his shirt as he tried to steady his breathing. he was terrified that if you looked up right now, you'd somehow see every sinful thought written across his face.

the guilt from those daydreams always ate at him later. it settled deep in his chest, making him feel sick for even letting his mind wander that far. he'd whisper quiet apologies to god on the drive back home and promise that it wouldn't happen again.

but then he'd see you the next day, and the cycle would repeat.

the very first time the boundaries cracked was a couple of weeks ago.

the house was full from a family gathering, and the distant chatter of his siblings echoed from down the hall. you were curled up against his side, one of your legs draped comfortably over his thighs while your fingers idly toyed with the buttons of his shirt. michael’s arm was stretched out along the back of the couch, holding you close while the pad of his middle finger slowly stroked back and forth against your leg. 

"i was thinking we try that little milkshake place tomorrow," you murmured, looking up at him with a smile. "the one down the street with the neon sign. you keep saying you wanna go."

michael nodded, but his mind was already completely somewhere else. his gaze had dropped, his half-lidded eyes slowly roaming over your face before sliding down to the bare skin of your collarbone. "mhm... yeah. okay," he murmured, his voice low.

you couldn't help the warm blush that rushed to your cheeks at the look he was giving you. "is something distracting you?" you teased.

his mouth curved into a small crooked smile, one that shows that he knew he was caught. "'m not distracted."

"no?" you smiled as he shook his head. you leaned up to press a soft kiss against his lips.

before you could even think about pulling back, michael’s hand came alive. his fingers slid up to cup your jaw, his long fingers dragging your face right back into his to completely cut off your retreat. though, the sweetness of the kiss was no longer there.

his mouth opened wide over yours, his tongue pushing past your teeth to slide deep into your mouth, tangling with yours deeply, stealing your breath. you let out a soft whine, your hands gripping his shoulders as his mouth grew hungrier, his lips sliding over yours in a way that made your ears ring.

his hands moved down to your waist, gripping you tight as he shifted his weight, pushing you backward until your back hit the plush couch cushions. he crowded right over you, his frame trapping you against the cushions as your legs opened and welcomed him in. the blunt pressure of his hard dick pressed perfectly against your core through his trousers. a low groan rattled in his chest as his hands slid down to cup your ass through your clothes as he dragged his length firmly up against you.

you let out a sharp gasp at the slide of it, your body trembling. hearing that little noise only seemed to drive him crazier. he loved it and wanted to hear more, so he gripped your hips and dragged you over him again, his own waist giving a nudge into you.

"michael, w-we shouldn't be doing this,” you managed to breathe out, breaking the kiss for a second, your chest heaving as you looked at him with wide eyes.

but he didn't let the words fully leave your mouth before he was leaning back in, capturing your lips again to swallow the rest of your protest. his mouth was so warm and wet, parting yours with a soft, demanding pressure that made your thoughts immediately start to scatter. you tried to hold onto the hesitation, but as his tongue slid back inside to tangle with yours, the worry melted out of your head, drowned out by the thick heat pooling in your belly.

his waist gave another firm nudge upward, his thick length grinding right against your soaking core. you let out a weak whine into his mouth, your fingers digging hard into his shoulders. michael groaned, breaking the kiss only to drag his lips down the line of your jaw, his breath puffing against your skin before he buried his mouth in the soft crook of your neck. he sucked gently at the sensitive skin there.

michael knew you both shouldn't be doing this. there was a small, nagging flicker of guilt at the back of his mind — the quiet voice of everything he'd been raised to believe about keeping things pure. every line drawn only existed until the moment he couldn't stand the ache anymore. but he was certain he was going to marry you one day, so did the rules even matter? it just felt too good.

so he continued to work you back and forth over his dick, his pelvis tilting upward to grind against you.

it wasn't like he was fucking you — but shit, now michael has a mental image of him fucking you, and it was not helping.

you felt exactly how hard he was beneath his pants, and the pressure of him against you only made you wetter. with each rut of his hips, your panties pressed deeper into your folds, soaking through the fabric and sending waves of pleasure through you.

you let out a whine that was a little too loud, the sound cutting through the room. michael’s eyes widened slightly in panic, his hand slid up to cover your mouth

"shh, y'gotta stay quiet f'me, honey," he whispered.

you nodded helplessly against his hand, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as he started to grind against you again. you let out a quiet gasp when your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him down to press him even harder against you. the hard edge of his zipper caught on your clit with one upward push, sending a shock of pleasure through your body. and you were cumming before you could even think, his name slipping out of your mouth in a muffled cry as you squirmed against him.

michael looked down at you, his brows furrowing slightly as he breathed out. “christ, did y’just…”

but the way your hips were jerking against his was the only answer he needed. and with a low whimper, he was cumming too, his hips rutting into your lap as he spent himself, his cum soaking through his pants until a wet patch bloomed across the denim. his head dropped onto your shoulder, his whiny moans vibrating against your ear as his whole body went slack and melted against you.

the murmur of his family down the hall had felt miles away, drowned out by the sound of your ragged breathing. as the daze slowly cleared from his head, michael pulled back, his eyes still hooded and dark as he looked down between your laps at the ruined denim. a wave of guilt settled over the space.

you swallowed hard, looking up at him with nervous eyes. "michael... i can't believe we just did that."

he bit his lip, brushing his hand over his mouth. his fingers tapped lightly against his lips as his gaze roamed over your flushed face, grounding himself. his hand slid down to cup your jaw, his touch incredibly gentle as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead murmuring that it was okay, it didn't count because it wasn't actually sex.

since then, his mind was constantly working to find loopholes, finding ways to bend the rules to chase that feeling once more without feeling like he was betraying everything he stood for.

and it didn't take long for him to find his next excuse. a few nights later, tucked away in your bedroom, he talked you right out of your shorts, leaving you in nothing but thin cotton panties. you were already leaking through the material, the fabric turning damp from where your slick was pooling.

he knelt between your thighs. he could see the plump shape of your pussy from how they clung to you, almost see-through from how much your pussy wept for him.

he parted his lips and leaned in, burying his face into your clothed cunt. the heat of his mouth hit you right through the cloth, and a half-sobbed cry tore out of your throat, your hands flying down to clutch at his hair.

"o-oh, michael, fuck," you whispered, breathless, and he moaned in response — a sound so deep and guttural it vibrated straight to your core. it was filthy and hungry, like the sound of someone finally getting the thing they've been starving for.

his fingers hooked into the elastic of your panties, tugging the waistband up tight so the wet cotton wedged deep between your puffy folds. he began sucking your arousal off your underwear, pulling the cloth taut with his lips as his tongue flattened out to lap greedily over your clit. he was on high off the taste of you, letting out these high, whiny moans that vibrated directly into your clit.

"michael, t-this is so dirty," you whispered, your voice trembling as your hips twitched against his lips.

he paused, lifting his face just an inch. he looked so incredibly pretty from that angle, his dark eyes hooded and his full lips glistening with your moisture. "s'not dirty, baby," he rasped, his soft voice slurring slightly from need. "you're too sweet for it t'be dirty. y'taste heavenly..." his gaze flickered down between your thighs for a second. "...and your panties're still on, so 'm only kissin' you... right?" he looked up at you through his eyelashes, waiting.

hearing his soft words phrased like that made you squirm against the sheets, your hands flying to cover your eyes. you couldn't even form a proper answer, just letting out a tiny whine behind your palm that served as agreement.

his mind was already a mess of filthy thoughts. he was imagining what it would feel like to tear the fabric away with his teeth and drown his tongue inside your wetness, picturing how loud you'd scream if he was sliding his dick into this soaking heat instead of just his mouth.

driven by his own thoughts, he pushed the solid tip of his tongue hard against your entrance through the barrier of your panties. you could feel the blunt shape of it trying to poke inside your hole, stretching the cotton taut against your opening.

you let out a loud whine, quickly clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise as your body bucked right off the mattress. your thighs started to tremble around his head, helpless as he ate you through the ruined cloth.

his tongue dragged up the damp fabric, slow and greedy, before his mouth sealed over your clit. he sucked hard through the wet cotton, making your thighs jerk around his head. michael was losing his mind, completely obsessed with the sweet taste of you soaking right through the cloth.

he groaned again, grinding his mouth deeper against you, smothering himself in your heat and slick as if he'd completely forgotten the cloth was even there. when your body tried to buck, his grip shifted, his large hands clamping onto your hips to pin you down.

he held you perfectly still.

he was fucking feasting, and your body knew it — your body was responding — every muscle tense, your thighs beginning to tremble.

your hands clutched at his hair, desperate, and you felt your own wetness smear hotter through the cotton as he shifted slightly, tongue tracing the edge of your panties now, like he was teasing himself just as much as he was teasing you.

he slowed down for a second, tormenting you by just pressing a soft, feather-light kiss right against your swollen clit — a touch so bare it made you cry out from the lack of pressure. his fingers hooked into the sides of your panties, tugging the fabric up tight so the wet cotton wedged deep between your folds.

with your underwear pulled taut, he used the flat of his hand to rub the soaked material back and forth against your peak, using the damp cloth to grind directly into your slick center until you were sobbing.

he dropped his mouth back down over your drenched center, his lips sealing over your swollen peak. you let out a broken scream, silently thanking god that no one was home as his tongue plunged back into the wet cotton, flattening out to lick you with broad strokes that had your hips bucking off the bed.

the relentless lap of his tongue was pushing you right over the edge, your chest heaved, your fingers knotting into his dark curls as you felt the coil tighten in your tummy.

"y'close, baby?" he asked, his voice so soft. he felt the tremors running through your body. he paused his licking for a second, keeping his lips pressed to your swollen nub.

"let go, sweetheart," he mumbled as he looked up at you. "c'mon. lemme feel you. i got you."

his voice was your final breaking point. he lapped at you again, his tongue moving in fast strokes, flattening out to press the drenched fabric deep into your aching folds.

"thaat's it... god, you're so wet," he groaned against your skin, his fingers digging into your hips to hold you still. "give it t'me, baby. let it out."

and then you were crashing over the edge. your back arched off the mattress, a loud, broken sob tearing from your throat as your orgasm hit you in violent waves. your hips jerked uncontrollably against his face. michael stayed buried right against you, lapping over your clit as he worked you through your cries, greedily drinking down every single drop of your release through your panties until your trembling thighs went slack.

the room fell silent again, save for the sound of your ragged breathing.

it wasn't like you didn't know any better. you knew that you weren't supposed to be doing this. but you just couldn't say no to him when he made you feel like this.

and his sweet words were like nectar in your ears, making it far too easy for him to turn wrong into right. if he wanted to push his excuses further, you were going to let him.

besides, you were already so wet, your slick coating your pussy, and he was still throbbing, rock hard and desperate against your hip. there wouldn't be any harm in helping him out too... right?

so when he crawled back up your body, peppering tender kisses over your cheeks, your nose, and your glossy lips, making you melt right into the mattress. he kissed you like you were something precious, his hands trembling as he shifted himself between your thighs.

"baby," he whispered against your mouth, his voice raspy with need as his fingers worked at his unbuckled belt, pulling his length free. "'m achin' so bad f'you. will y'let me jus..."

you were nodding even though he didn't even finish his sentence. he guided the broad head of his dick straight against your soaked panties. he dragged his length up and down the damp seam, pressing the wet cotton deeper into your puffy slit. you whimpered his name, your thighs trembling from how sensitive you still were from your orgasm.

michael moaned in response, his hips giving a gentle thrust into you. his dick ground right against your core, making you squirm under him. he continued his movement once more, dragging himself over your slick before his fingers reached down, hooking the damp elastic.

he pushed it to the side, exposing your bare cunt to the cool air. a quiet groan escaped him at the sight, his long fingers guiding his dick straight to your pussy. his thumbs pulled your folds apart, a string of slick catching and stretching between them before snapping, glistening under your bedroom light.

he bit his lip in concentration as he glided through your slick, letting out a shaky breath as his hot tip smeared up and down your aching folds.

you squirmed under his dark stare, feeling so exposed with the way he was looking down at you. "michael…" you whimpered, your thighs trying to press shut to hide yourself from him.

"no, no, baby, please don't hide." his hands flew straight to your thighs, pinning them open wide. his voice sounded pathetic as he looked down at you.

he guided his dick right back to your center, rubbing his shaft up and down into your folds. the hot tip caught right over your swollen clit, making your hips jerk into him. he bit his lip, his brows knit in concentration as he stared down at the filthy sight.

you lifted your head to look, letting out a soft mewl at the sight alone. his dick was so thick against you that your folds were barely visible underneath him, completely buried beneath his girth, which was probably why he had to pull you so far apart. both of you were so wet — a messy mix of your slick and his pre-cum coating his length and your skin until it looked like he’d already spent himself all over you.

he was hypnotized by it, and so were you.

his thumbs moved to press his dick firmly against your cunt, dragging it back and forth over your opening, and you gasped at the pressure. he was moaning so much you'd think he was actually inside you, his chest heaving as he worked himself against your wetness. he bit his bottom lip — feeling the overwhelming need to bite onto something, anything — as he gently guided the head of his dick through your silken, dripping folds, and oh—

his tip caught right on your drooling entrance, popping against your tight hole and making you buck up hard into him.

"o-oh god— baby," he breathed out, his whole body shaking.

he froze right there, dropping his forehead against your collarbone as he let out a long, ragged exhale. his hands squeezed your thighs, trying to ground himself and pull his head together.

"okay..." he muttered more to himself than to you, lifting his head to look down where he was pressed against you.

he started sliding his length up and down through your wet slit again, taking slow, careful strokes. he tried to keep it gentle, dragging his shaft over your folds, but you were driving him insane — your moans and how soaked you were. and with every slide down, the head of his dick kept nudging itself right into your wet opening.

the restraint barely lasted. his breathing went shallow, his chest heaving as the feeling of your slick on his dick wiped his mind clean. those slow glides turned into desperate, messy ruts before he even realized what he was doing.

his pace was speeding up. the head of his dick kept catching on your entrance with every push, popping against the tight ring and threatening to slip in. your entrance was constricting around his sensitive tip as you bit down hard on your hand to muffle your loud mewls, but it was practically useless against the noises tearing from your throat.

"b-baby..." he choked out, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he whimpered, his breath coming in hot, shallow hitches against your skin. "i-i can't... i can't—"

he squeezed your thighs tighter, his whole body shaking as he tried and failed to pull his hips back. he sounded out of breath, every word breaking apart in his throat as he dragged his wet head right over your swollen nub before pressing it right back against your tight opening.

"please, sweet girl... please jus'— jus' the tip?" his voice cracked, desperate against your skin as he practically sobbed the words out. "please let me jus' put the tip in."

you were already so dazed, your whole body aching for him. you brought your hands up to cup the back of his neck, your fingers tangling into his damp curls. you pulled him down closer, pressing your forehead against his as you let out a shaky sigh right against his mouth.

"o-okay, yeah, put it in," you whispered, your voice shaking as you spread your thighs just a little wider for him.

so he pulled his hips back slightly, the head of his dick barely hanging in before he pushed right back inside with a mewl. his hips slowly started moving back and forth, relishing the tight squeeze of your pussy gripping him every time he threatened to slip out.

but then he pushed forward just a bit more. you gasped at the new sensation rippling through you, a soft, wet squelch echoing between your thighs as he worked his tip in and out.

and of course, the fucking promise to wait flashed through your mind now of all times, but you couldn't help how good it felt to have his head stretching your walls. you couldn't help how your pussy was greedily sucking him in, only begging for more of him. you couldn't help the way your hips rolled up to swallow him deeper, or how your drooling center was coating his dick in your own slick.

michael was still trying so hard to fight his urges — desperate to keep his word and not push in more than the tip. but then your legs came up, wrapping around his waist and pulling him in deeper, shoving him further into your heat until both of you were gasping for air.

"s-shit, baby," he breathed straight against your lips, his whole body shuddering. your mind didn't even process the curse leaving his mouth — too overwhelmed by the fullness of him.

michael pulled back just enough to look at you, letting out a huff that was full of genuine disbelief. his cheeks were flushed dark, his eyes wide as he hovered over your face.

"did y'mean to do that?" he whispered as he looked down at where your ankles were locked around his waist.

heat rushed to your face. you bit your lip, unable to meet his gaze for a second before nodding softly. "i... i really want you, michael... so bad," you murmured, your voice barely above a breath.

the soft tone of your voice made his dick twitch against your walls. you bit back a tiny smile at the feeling, but he caught it anyway. he let out a quiet breath, a pretty, crooked smile spreading across his face. he bit down on his bottom lip, his eyes melting as they locked on yours.

"yeah?" he breathed. you nodded in response.

"can y'take the rest, baby?" he asked gently.

your brows furrowed in confusion. "the rest?"

you lifted your head, your eyes dropping down between your legs to see what he meant, and your jaw practically dropped. you froze as you realized he wasn't even halfway inside you. the girth of him had filled your entrance completely, so you'd assumed he was all the way in.

michael caught the exact moment it clicked in your head, letting out a soft chuckle. "oh, baby..." he cooed softly, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone to soothe your wide-eyed shock.

"'s okay, sweet girl. 'm gonna go slow f'you, i promise. just tell me if it's too much."

you swallowed hard, your mind racing as you looked back up into his soft, reassuring eyes. you nodded, your fingers tightening around his shoulders. "okay... yeah."

he nodded back, taking in a steadying breath. holding your gaze, he tilted his pelvis forward and pushed deeper, burying another inch of his thick length inside you.

a gasp tore from your throat as your walls stretched wide around him, your hips twitching on instinct.

"still okay?" michael whispered, his voice straining as he held himself still.

"y-yeah... keep going," you whimpered out.

you couldn't bring yourself to look away. your eyes dropped back down, mesmerized as you watched the length of his dick slowly disappear bit by bit into your wet opening. the sight of it made your cunt flutter around him.

michael let out a whimper at the tight squeeze, his hips accidentally bucking forward harder than he intended. he sank another two inches deep into your core, and a broken whine slipped out of your lips at the fullness stretching you open.

his thumb reached down, finding your swollen clit and rubbing the sensitive nub to help ease the stretch. the sharp sting melted into liquid heat.

"better?" he rasped, his thumb working you in tight circles.

"y-yeah... god, yeah," you moaned out, your head rolling back against the pillow as the pleasure washed over you.

michael watched your face intently, tracking every small twitch, every sharp inhale, and the way your features contorted in pure bliss. holding your gaze, he slowly tilted his pelvis forward, pushing deeper into your cunt. inch by inch, his shaft buried itself past your walls, stretching you open until he finally bottomed out, his pelvis grinding flush against yours.

you let out a broken gasp, feeling him so deep inside you it felt like he was reaching all the way up into your chest.

his dick gave a twitch deep in your gut, and a shaky "g-god..." scraped out of his throat.

you looked up at him, expecting him to be looking at your face or down where your bodies connected, but his hooded eyes were glued to your lower stomach.

you followed his gaze and caught your breath. there was an unmistakable, raised bulge sitting against the skin of your lower belly — the prominent shape of his dick pressing outward from inside your body. you could literally see the outline of his head tenting your skin from within, proving just how ridiculously deep he was buried inside you.

michael traced his thumb lightly over the rounded rise on your tummy, his mouth hanging open in awe as his whole body shuddered on top of you.

"look at you…" he rasped. a breathless groan spilled past his lips as he nudged forward just a hair more, watching the bulge shift under your skin. "takin' every inch… gosh, such a good girl."

the stretch was overwhelming, an aching fullness that made your toes curl into the sheets. you reached down, covering his hand where it rested on your tummy, feeling the heat of his palm pressed right over the spot where he was plugged into you.

"michael, please..." you panted, your hips twitching helplessly under him. "move... please."

and who was he to deny you? he lifted his head, his eyes locking onto yours as he pulled back, slowly dragging his length almost all the way out until just his tip was resting against your entrance before he plunged right back in, burying himself all the way to his hilt with a wet slap.

a loud cry tore out of your chest as he bottomed out again, your walls clamping down tight around him.

his pace picked up as he started working his hips in long, deep rolls, every thrust grinding his pelvis against your clit while his dick stretched your tight cunt. the squelching sound of your slick filled the room, loud and messy — a rhythmic plap plap plap echoing off the walls every time his hips slammed flush against yours.

"so wet for me," he whimpered against your jaw, his lips dragging down your neck to leave messy kisses while his hips pounded steady into your lap. "y'take it so good, sweet girl... look how deep 'm in you..."

he pressed down firm on the bulge on your belly right as he thrust deep, pushing his palm right into the swell of skin. the extra pressure was too much, making your hips jerk clean off the mattress as you writhed under him. you reached down, your fingers trying to push his hand away from your tummy.

"d-don't run, baby," he rasped, catching your wrist and guiding your hand up to grip the pillow, making sure you had something to clutch as you tried to find leverage. "y'asked f'this, didn't you?"

he leaned down and pressed his mouth over yours, capturing your lips while his hips kept grinding deep, burying himself flush against your pussy. you let out a whimper against his tongue, helpless as he worked you back and forth.

you were so close to the edge, your walls began to flutter around him. he felt the squeeze of your pussy gripping his dick and let out a broken gasp into your mouth.

"oh-oh... y'close?" he breathed, pulling back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes wide and hooded. "y'gonna cum f'me again, baby?"

you nodded frantically.

"yeah? c'mon baby... please cum on my— oh," he begged, his voice breaking into a whimpering mess as he slammed his hips forward again. "yes, yes, please... 'need to feel it,"

the snap inside you had you feeling like you were on cloud nine, fireworks bursting behind your eyelids. your chest heaved, your voice so hoarse from screaming his name that your moans completely cut off into dry hitches. you couldn't even form a real sound as a wave tore through your core, your cunt violently gushing and squirting all over his dick, soaking his thighs and drenching the sheets beneath you.

michael felt the warm spray coat his dick, his dark eyes widening before he thrust even harder into your gushing warmth.

"o-oh... y-you're..." his breath hitched, his brain completely short-circuiting at the sight and feeling of you squirting all over him. his head dropped as he gripped your hips tighter. "oh god—"

"that's it, give it all to me," he rasped, his voice a broken mess in your ear.

your walls kept pulsing around him, milking every inch of his dick while you spurted everywhere. he tried to hold out, but the coil in his belly was too much to fight. his hips stuttered, a wrecked groan tearing from his chest as he shoved himself all the way in, burying his face in your neck as his body finally gave out.

with a stretched out whine, he came deep inside you. thick streams of his release flooded into your core, filling you to the brim until his dick was covered at the base.

he kept moving, taking slow, languid thrusts as he rode out his own high. his dick pushed his milky white seed in and out of your walls. with every slide, the mixture overflowed from your entrance, pooling between your thighs and dripping onto the sheets below.

his head was buried in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in ragged hitches against your skin while you both lay there catching your breath.

your hand moved up lazily, your fingers playing loosely with his curls as you stroked the back of his neck. the room was silent except for your panting, until a soft sniffle broke through the quiet.

your brows pulled together, your hand pausing in his hair. you gently pushed his shoulder back to see his face. "michael?" you whispered.

a single tear streak was glistening down his flushed cheek.

"were you crying?"

"no," he immediately mumbled, turning his head away and trying to hide his face in your neck while his hand came up to clumsily wipe at his eye. "n-no i wasn't."

a soft laugh bubbled up in your chest, and you tried to tilt his chin back up so you could actually look at him. he was so cute. "michael, look at me."

he let out a soft huff, his cheeks flushing. "i-i don't know," he confessed quietly. "it just... it felt really good."

you couldn't hide the smile spilling across your face if you tried, your heart melting at him.

"don't make fun of me," he whined softly, hiding his face behind his hands.

"'m not, i promise," you murmured gently. you reached up, gently pulling his hands away, and caught both sides of his face, your hands holding his cheeks as you pulled him back down to kiss him tenderly.

when you pulled back, his eyes fluttered open, looking up at you through his long lashes with so much affection that it made your head spin.

his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him, holding you so close that there wasn't an inch of space left between your bodies.

tomorrow, the reality of what you'd just done would catch up to him. tomorrow, the guilt would return, and he'd have to face the stained sheets and the fact that every lie he'd told himself to justify this was gone.

he knew it counted — it always counted, you both knew it.

but for now, the unsaid truth hung quietly in the air, pushed aside just for tonight while all that mattered was the warmth of your skin against his, and the sound of your soft breathing as he held you tight.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───

oh hey guys.. how are we doing on this fine day

𝒕𝒂𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ✩࿐ : @choc0ch1ps @nuhveah @sxlver-sxul @appleheadannie @mjsfinestfish @vxrmillion @ggformike @soberrydelicious @hiiioliviaxoxo @4lulai @marley-n-me @m0th-g0th @emsownworld @moonwalkingvamp @heyitsm4di @chaekieu @munaapplehead @camillemonroe @mattbymills @islavioleta @xoviennaxo @palememoryseagull @yumbumlum @qfretza @chheeseybeans @ashmariet @pretty4u @jisungsblackhairissuperior @mjlover0829 @bitchota67 @katseyedreaming @mayketz @nuhogom @cofystain @j3nnyluvscupc4k3s @neverstreett @tvehyyung @artflooo @6ngelbaby @pinktechnomancerveil @pinkpotss @jinx-gf @cinephile444 @evetheegoonette @bluegangstaaaa @marceadoresu @sxphr2 @coornballz @chrislyssas @angelcorezombie

[michaelsfayvourite]

𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠.

ᥫ᭡: when y/n harmlessly teases her childhood best friend, michael, she never expects him to actually act on it.

ᥫ᭡: mature themes, explicit content, friends to lovers, praise, nickname ‘mama’, first time, unprotected, !subdom michael, !switch michael, !sub reader, inexperienced michael, !inexperienced reader.

ᥫ᭡: wc is 4.3k!

ᥫ᭡: 18+! minors dni!

tags: @tenderlyboundlessparagon @sqrixm @sarcasmismyfirstlove @backupschmuck

(my BEST attempt at second person, i’m a bit rusty.)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

growing up right next door to the jackson family meant your childhood was a mixture of brotherly love and music. long before the sold out shows, the screaming crowds, and the chaotic fame took over, it was just you and them.

out of all the brothers, michael was always the one you were closest to. you were the one who could tell exactly what he was thinking just by the way his shoulders slumped after rehearsals, you were the one he ran to when the pressure got too heavy, hiding away at your house just to talk about things that had nothing to do with his life.

you had seen every single phase of him. you knew the boy who used to belt out motown hits with a voice bigger than his body, and you knew the awkward teenager who used to hide in his bedroom to write.

but looking across your living room floor right now, it was getting harder and harder to just see him as the boy next door. michael seemed more grown now, (even though y’all were the same age) sitting cross legged on your carpet, carefully unfolding a brand new plastic twister mat.

while he was distracted, smoothing out the bright dots, you took a moment to just observe him. your eyes traced the beautiful shape and texture of his afro, and then your gaze dropped down at his hands next. michael always had big hands and you couldn't help but wonder how those massive hands would feel wrapped around your body.

“m’ telling you, m’ gonna win!” michael said, his voice cutting through your thoughts. it was that familiar melody, sounding so sweet and pure. he glanced up through his afro, a playful spark in his eyes. “been practising alot, you don't stand a chance.”

you leaned back on your hands, a slow smirk spreading across your face as you locked eyes with him. “okay, show me what you got then, michael..” you tilted your head, letting your gaze drop down to his jeans, then slowly back up to the silk button down shirt left casually open at his chest, letting him see exactly where you were looking.

michael's cheeks instantly turned a deep shade of red under your heavy gaze. he let out a breathless little giggle, brushing it off as he quickly looked down at the spinner to hide his sudden shyness.

“c’mon.. let's... spin the wheel..” he stammered, clearing his throat, trying to seem unfazed as he gave the arrow a hard flick. the plastic clicked loudly, spinning round and round before landing on a section.

michael looked at it, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “right foot, blue.” he called out, stepping onto the mat first. he moved with grace, his leg extending out as he firmly planted it on the closest blue circle.

you reached over, your fingers flicking the spinner next. it landed on left hand, red. leaning forward, you chose the red dot that required you to stretch directly in his space.

as you placed your palm down, your arm brushed lightly against his shin. you felt him freeze for a split second, his breathing hitching slightly at the sudden contact. you tilted your head up, looking at him from your low position on the mat.

“your turn.” you smiled, watching the way his chest rose and fell beneath his open silk shirt.

he nodded, his large hand coming down to spin the wheel again. the arrow landed on right hand, red.

michael hesitated for a second, his eyes locking onto yours with nervousness. he shifted his weight, his palm coming down onto the red circle. because of the angle, his chest was suddenly hovering inches away from yours.

he was trapped right above you, trying his best to keep his balance without letting his body touch yours, but the size of him made it almost impossible.

the view of you from his position changed everything for him. michael's gaze, which usually darted away whenever things got too intimate, suddenly found itself stuck to your body.

from this angle, he couldn't help but notice the way the light in your living room caught the soft curves of your figure. he swallowed hard, his eyes darkening further as he observed the enticing plump of your ass that your shorts didn't even try to hide.

“michael?” you asked, the volume of your voice snapping him out of his thoughts and making him shudder. “you wanna wear my shorts or somethin'? why you looking there?” you giggled, teasing him slightly.

he let out a breathless laugh, his eyes snapping back up to yours. “m’ not.. i-i wasn't looking at your.. shorts.” he stuttered, trying to object, but his deep voice cracked slightly under the weight of his attraction.

“mm, you sure you weren’t?” you raised an eyebrow, rolling your eyes, deciding to play it off. it didn't take long before his gaze drifted back down to your shorts again.

“you're.. you're just trying to distract me so you can win.” michael whispered, his voice dropping into a slightly deeper register that turned you on.

you shifted your weight, making the plastic mat crinkle loudly beneath you. the movement brought your hips closer to his, almost brushing against the front of his jeans.

“well.. is it working?” you asked innocently, tilting your head. michael's gaze dropped immediately to your lips when you asked that question.

“u-uh...” he cleared his throat, a helpless sound that betrayed how badly he actually wanted hide his feelings.

sensing his shy nature, you backed down. “you know what..? you win this round, i give up.” you sighed heavily as you moved to pull yourself up, settling back onto your knees right in front of him.

you lifted your head up slightly, looking at him through your eyelashes with a look that was pure temptation. you weren't forcing yourself onto him, but you were laying out every single piece of bait, knowing exactly what it did to his shyness.

michael completely froze. from his perspective, looking down at you on your knees, his mind went dirty, thinking about how you could be in that position right between his legs, with your big doe eyes staring up at him as you..

“don't look at me.. like that.” he breathed out, his voice attempting to be strict but coming out more weaker than intended.

instead of looking away, you let out a little hum, leaning closer. “look at you like what, michael?” you furrowed your eyebrows, keeping your tone completely innocent while your eyes stayed locked onto his lips.

he swallowed hard, a visible blush creeping up his neck and darkening his cheeks. “you're... you're teasing me.” he slowly sat down with his legs crossed, still staring at you on your knees.

“no m’ not?” you answered softly, shrugging as you tugged at the knee part of his jeans. “m’ just sitting.. normally.”

watching his timid reaction, you cleared your throat. “here. why don't we start a new round?” you said with a little chuckle, breaking the heavy tension just enough to let him breathe.

you reached over and gave the cardboard arrow a sharp flick. the plastic clicked rapidly before landing on right hand, green. you leaned backwards carefully, and placed your palm on a green dot, turning so that you were facing him.

“my turn.. to spin.” he stammered as he reached blindly for the board, his eyes glued to the smooth skin of your thighs right in front of him. he gave the arrow a weak flick as it spun and landed on left knee, yellow. (why is there no yellow!)

there was a yellow dot he could go to, and it was the one directly between your knees. michael looked at the dot, then looked up at you, his large eyes begging for mercy. to make the move, he would have to bring his knee right into your space, settling it between your thighs.

“i.. i don't think i can do that one.” he whispered, a nervous smile tugging at his lips as his hands twitched against the mat. “i have to do another. you're blocking the dot.”

“m’ not blocking it.” you replied innocently, shifting your knees wider, parting them slightly to reveal the bright yellow circle beneath you. the movement made your shorts pull tighter against your hips, exposing the soft curve of your inner thighs. “see? there's plenty of room for you, michael.”

michael blinked, quickly burying his face in his large hands for a second to hide how red his cheeks were. “you’re so bad.” he groaned through his fingers, his muffled voice full of sweet shyness.

“don't complain if i fall then..” he whispered as he lifted his leg, carefully bringing his knee forward to plant it right onto the yellow dot, but because he was so focused on trying not to brush against you, his balance betrayed him horribly.

the slick plastic of the twister mat slid an inch to the side and michael's knee slipped completely. instead of him falling on top of you, his hands instinctively reached out to grab you for support, pulling you towards him as he fell backwards, his back hitting the floor with a thump.

with a soft gasp, you landed on his lap, your thighs settling perfectly over his waist. michael was frozen, his chest panting as his massive hands rested awkwardly on your waist.

he instantly blushed having you sit right in his lap, his eyes wide and completely flustered as he stared up at you.

“god, michael..” you let out a shaky breath. “i didn't know you were this bold.” you gulped nervously, clinging to humour as you joked softly, letting out a little chuckle.

michael let out an overwhelmed squeak, his eyes widening. “i-i didn't mean to.. it was an accident.” he stuttered defensively, his voice cracking completely into a desperate whisper as his fingers twitched against your waist, debating whether he should push you off or keep you right there.

but as he moved nervously beneath you, trying to find his words, you felt something hard pressing firmly against your centre. through the fabric of his jeans, right against your thigh, was the sensation of a growing erection. your eyes widened slightly as you tilted your head and looked down between your bodies, your gaze locking onto the noticeable bulge straining against his jeans.

when he realised where your eyes were, he let out an embarrassed noise, instinctively trying to cover his crotch with one of his hands. “d-don't look.” he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief second, his eyelashes fluttering wildly. “oh my god, please don't look...”

“m’ sorry y/n, it’s b-because..” he rushed out, trying to defend himself. “you kept... you kept doing that thing with your shorts, and looking at me like..”

hearing those words roll out of his mouth made your own breath hitch. the playful smirk melted right off your face, and heat rushed up your face. your teasing hadn't just embarrassed him, you had turned him on to the point of an erection. “so.. it's because.. of me, michael?”

michael's eyes snapped open at your question, he looked completely embarrassed to be put on the spot, his bottom lip trembling slightly as he tried to find the right words. “i told you...” he exhaled, a helpless sound. “i told you to stop teasing...”

even with your heart racing at the closeness, you still couldn't help but view him as the innocent boy you'd known forever. you figured he was just experiencing a typical boy thing, completely oblivious to the heavier desire growing inside of him.

with a nervous chuckle to ease your own sudden flustered expression, you let your hands rest gently on his shoulders. “well, what are you going to do about it, hm?” you asked, glancing at his noticeable bulge.

“i... i can't do anything about it.” he stammered as he completely lost his grip on any remaining composure. his large hands, still resting awkwardly on your waist, twitched nervously, wanting so badly to hide his face. “i have to go.. to the.. to the bathroom.”

looking at him like this, so flustered and melting under your gaze, just proved exactly what you had always believed about him. he was just innocent michael. you figured he was too shy to ever actually do anything with you, too gentle to ever take action, even if his body was clearly screaming otherwise.

purposely playing into that innocence, you leaned closer, letting your weight settle deeper against his thighs. “why?” you asked, your fingers lightly tracing the collar of his open silk shirt. “just do.. whatever you need to do, right here.”

you genuinely expected him to blush and tell you to “stop it”, or clumsily try to get you off his lap. yet instead, his jaw clenched, as he stared right through you from beneath his afro. “you think i can just...” he sighed. “do you know? what you're asking me.. to do?”

you just smiled softly, you figured his warning was just his sweet nature talking. after all, this was your childhood friend, and you knew him very well. right? he was too gentle to ever break out of his shell.

“yes, michael..” you replied softly, your voice completely innocent as you rolled your eyes. “m’ telling you. you can do.. anything you need to do.. here.”

michael remained still, his entire body contemplating over your words as they sunk in. he stared at you intensely as if he were trying to process the fact you had given him permission to fulfill his very desires. “a-anything?” he whispered.

you swallowed hard, your own cheeks burning as you gave him a slow nod, still underestimating what was brewing inside of him.

that nod was his breaking point. the sweet boy next door was gone, consumed by your invitation. a low breath escaped his parted lips, and before you could even register the shift in his energy, his massive hands moved from your waist.

his fingers slid down, his palms cupping the smooth skin of your thighs with warmth that made you gasp. his touch was laced burning hunger as his fingers caressed the soft flesh of your thighs, making you whimper. michael shifted his weight with grace, effortlessly rolling you over onto your back against the plastic mat.

the movement left you completely breathless, your eyes widening in genuine shock as his tall frame followed you down, looming directly over you. within a second, he was hovering right over you, pinning you flat against the carpet as his eyes burned down into yours.

“i can do anything i want?” he repeated, his voice dropping into a raspy register right against your ear.

his lips met the soft skin of your neck, delivering a series of gentle kisses. the contrast of his sweet personality against the way he was pinning you down made your mind spin.

did you really know your childhood best friend?

you were completely trapped beneath his large frame, the undeniable hardness of his erection pressing between your thighs with every breath he took. his fingers slid slowly up from your thighs, tracing the curve of your waist before rising hesitantly toward the bottom of your shirt.

you felt the warmth of his palms as they settled right under your breasts, his thumbs brushing lightly against the fabric. he paused there for a second as if he was still trying to process that you were actually letting him do this.

“anythin’, y/n?” he breathed out again, his eyes snapping back up to lock onto yours, heavy with desire.

you could only manage a small nod, your voice entirely trapped in your throat. the weight of his body above yours, paired with the heat of his large palms resting right beneath your breasts, had completely taken away all your playful confidence. you were the flustered one now.

his fingers hooked into the hem of your shirt, and with a swift motion, he pulled the fabric up, sliding it up your stomach and over your head. his eyes tracking the movement of your chest before dropping heavily to the full plump of your breasts.

a visible shade of dark red darkened his cheeks, but he didn't look away. the sweet boy who used to hide his face in his hands was completely gone, and in his place was a man looking down at you with pure hunger.

he gently cupped your breasts. the feeling of his massive hands against your bare skin made your eyes flutter shut, a soft whine escaping your lips. michael let out a low sound in return for the noise you made, his thumbs slowly brushing over the sensitive tips. his lips continued to press kisses against your skin while his hands squeezed and shaped your breasts, basically worshiping them.

he grounded his lower half, pressing the hard erection against the centre of your thighs. a loud groan tore from his throat as he began to slowly rub himself against you, dry humping you through the heavy fabric of his jeans.

every slow, heavy push of his hips sent a sensation of heat straight through you, pinning you effortlessly to the floor. you could feel exactly how hard he was, straining against his zipper with every desperate thrust, completely consuming you in his sudden desire.

“michael...” you gasped out, your voice trembling as you tilted your chin up to find his eyes. he paused his movements for a moment as he looked down at you.

“i think.. i think..” he whispered, his own face burning as he looked right into your eyes, seeing all your previous teasing drained from you and replaced by the mutual desire. “i need more.”

hearing those exact words come out of his mouth made you wet with anticipation. it was no longer than a few seconds before the tip of his length brushed directly against you, and an overwhelmed moan escaped his lips at the sensation of your wetness.

but as he felt himself right at your entrance, he paused, his arms shaking as he supported his weight over you, looking down at you with wide eyes. “is that okay? if i have.. more?” he whispered, his voice cracking completely into a naive plea as he realised he was completely inexperienced. “i just.. i don’t know how to..”

your heart swelled at the raw honesty in his voice, your own inexperience making you just as nervous, but the heat between your thighs completely took over.

you reached up, your hands framing his burning cheeks. “just do it, michael.” you exhaled, lost in the moment. “it’s okay.”

hearing your approval, he instinctively pushed forward, his full length inside you in one heavy thrust.

“fuck...” you gasped out, the curse word ripping from your throat as your fingers dug into his shoulders, your eyes squeezing shut at the overwhelming stretch of him filling you completely.

the profanity hung in the air, and even in the moment of pleasure, michael's face instantly burned a deeper shade of red at the dirty word. he wasn't used to cursing at all, and hearing that word fall from your lips only turned him on more.

a whimper escaped him as his large hands gripped your hips, holding you to the crinkling twister mat. because he was entirely inexperienced, he didn't know how to ease into it or pace himself. instead, he immediately began to move to what felt right, moving deeper as he chased the intense pleasure.

“ma, it feels so good.” he whined breathlessly, burying his face right into the crook of your neck, his chest heaving against your bare breasts as he thrust into you with power. “do.. do you feel good too?”

your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, your fingernails digging slightly into his shirt as another push of his hips made your head roll back against the mat.

“yes... it f-feels good.” you gasped out, your voice trembling as you tried to catch your breath beneath him. you felt the entirety of his length burying itself deep inside you with every movement. “but... but michael, is it supposed to be so.. so deep?”

hearing the vulnerability made michael let out a low groan. the active realisation that he was filling you up, and stretching you out like this sent a wave of realisation.

“m’ sorry..” he whimpered breathlessly, his chest heaving as he tried to control the rhythm of his hips. he pulled back just an inch to look down at you, his large eyes lost in the sensation.

“you're just so tight, mama. feels so tight around me.” with a needy whine, he tried to restrict himself, burying only half of length inside you, a desperate noise escaping his lips when he felt your warmth again.

the shallower movement was a different kind of torture, sending a sweet sensation straight to your core as he carefully withdrew and pushed back in. michael's eyes fluttered shut as he tried to pace himself, his teeth sinking into his lower lip to keep from crying out. every slow roll of his hips made him tremble, his muscles aching from holding back.

noticing his restriction, you reached out to spread your legs wider, hinting at him to go deeper. “it's okay, michael..” you moaned, your voice weak but determined as you looked up into his dark eyes, giving him your full permission to lose control. “i think.. i-i can take it now.”

hearing your words, a helpless groan tore from his throat. you let out a broken moan, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to try and cope with the deep length of him as he drove back inside. the sudden tightening of your legs around his hips made michael lose it. he let out heavy pants, his head snapping back as his body shuddered.

“oh god... mama.. i’m gonna-“ he stammered, his voice cracking into a desperate pitch as he lost what little control he had left, chasing the climax that was rushing over him.

his pace hit your own sensitive centre in just the right way, your toes curled tightly and your eyes rolled back. an intense feeling of pleasure went straight through you.

“me.. me too, michael..“ you bit your lip, your voice breaking as your own orgasm crashed over you completely. your inner muscles clamped down around him in a spasm, pulsing against his length.

hearing you cry out his name and feeling your body squeeze him so hard broke the last of his control. with a loud moan, michael arched his back, pulsing his release deep inside you as your bodies laid in a shared orgasm.

“y/n...” he whispered breathlessly, the reality of what just happened beginning to wash over him. the raw energy that had taken over him just moments ago began to dissolve, and the sweet boy slowly started to peek back through.

his afro was beautifully messy, his eyes filled with vulnerability as he searched your face. a sudden look of panic flickered in his eyes, his bottom lip trembling as he realised how much he had lost control. “sorry..” he apologised softly. “i just-i really didn't know what to do..and you felt so good, mama. did i hurt you? are you okay?”

you let out a shaky breath, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you looked up at his worried face. the lingering sensation of your orgasm was still making your body tingle, and seeing him look so panicked and sweet after being so unexpectedly rough was almost endearing.

you reached up, your hands sliding slowly from his shoulders to cup his burning cheeks, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones to soothe him. “it's okay. you didn't hurt me, i promise. it felt... it felt good.”

hearing your reassurance, the panic in his dark eyes instantly melted into relief. a soft sigh escaped his lips as his long fingers tangled into your hair, holding you close as if you were something fragile.

“really?” he asked against your skin, a genuine smile finally breaking across his face. “you're not just saying that to.. make me feel better? because... because i really didn't know what i was doing. i just.. couldn't handle how.. warm you felt.”

you couldn't help but let out a nervous giggle at his honesty. you shifted your hips a tiny bit underneath him. the movement made his breath catch in his throat, his eyes instantly widening as you both felt the warmth of your bodies still joined together on the mat.

you bit your lower lip, a nervous yet playful spark returning to your eyes as you wrapped your arms securely around his neck, hiding your burning face in his shoulder for a quick second before looking back up at him.

“why.. why don't you try again?” you asked, your voice a little shaky and flustered as you whispered right against his lips. “you know, just to.. to practise being a little more gentle?”

“y/n...” he whined out, his voice cracking with desperate desire as a shy smile tugged at his lips. “oh my god... you're gonna kill me, mama.”

[yearlyjams]

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪ 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴 NANNY!READER ꒱

early mornings ﹐ cardigans ﹐ lukewarm mug of coffee ﹐ library visits ﹐ purse turned diaper bag ﹐ late night talks with michael ﹐ journal pages ﹐ sunglasses on her head ﹐ beloved pair of jeans ﹐ white wine ﹐ home cooked meals ﹐ memories on camera ﹐ vanilla candles ﹐ organized planners

𝓻𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬⠀ ⠀𝐚𝐫𝐞⠀ ⠀𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝⠀!

( 🧺 ) nanny!reader . . . who looks effortlessly put together. it's a miracle really, because any time you catch her she'll have three kids hanging off of her. but from the slouchy top you'd always see her sporting, to her signature jeans, to her heavily worn sneakers ⎯ it's the look all the celebrities wish they could pull off.

( 🧺 ) nanny!reader . . . who wishes she could be a little bit more type b, but with her organized planner labeled as her best friend, she just can't help but plan a full itinerary of activities with the kids each day. and with prince and paris getting older she knows it'll become handy when they start getting more involved in sports and extracurriculars. besides, michael takes being the spontaneous one between the two of you like no other.

( 🧺 ) nanny!reader . . . who must keep her hair out of her face at all times. whether that's getting a specific hairstyle and sporting it over the next few months or that's figuring out the best updo for her curls. she's not taking a chance with blanket's grabby (and strong) hands ever again.

( 🧺 ) nanny!reader . . . who uses her psychology degree everyday. and not in a research subject type of way, in the way she navigates scenarios with the kids. michael's instilled full trust in you with his children, and as a caregiver in the their life you're going to raise them the best possible way beside michael. and that's by helping them healthily navigate and understand their feelings when there's a meltdown over not being able to have ice cream for dinner or fight between siblings over a toy.

( 🧺 ) nanny!reader . . . who always has to keep a baked good in the home. she used to bake them late at night after she went from the vast area space of the estate back to her tiny shoebox of an apartment. but since familiarizing yourself with the kitchen, you've since shifted from the late nights to the afternoons to make the gooey goods. stocking the pantry of any items you'd need while out on grocery runs and letting prince and paris take turns to lick the spatula or dip a tiny finger into the batter or frosting. as long as you're around there is always a guarantee that there will be some kind of baked good displayed neatly at the center of the kitchen island.

( 🧺 ) nanny!reader . . . who doesn't care about looking childish while she plays with the kids. also going along with what ever pretend play they have going on, becoming just another character within it all, even if that means you know have to give the hot wheels a silly voice to running around with a tiny pair of fairy wings on your back. and this still applies to when you take the kids to the park. you're not going to ideally sit around at one of the many benches with the other parents and caregivers while the kids run free. no, you're going to look ridiculous on the playground, watching as prince takes blanket down the slide with him or assisting paris on the monkey bars, and even switching between all three as you push them one after another on the swings. you're as involved as you can be, and you wouldn't want it any other way.

( 🧺 ) nanny!reader . . . who can't help the fluttering in her chest when michael remembers the smallest details about her. thinking their late night chats about anything and everything meant nothing of the sort to the singer ⎯ that's is of course until he reminds you that he's a listener. asking how your aunt's second wedding went when you asked about a week ago that you'd need an off day to attend it from asking how your guilty pleasure reality television has gotten drama filled each day after you spend each night catching him up. you try not to get caught up on it, considering he's your boss, chalking it up to being a common courtesy to engage with his employee.

want more nanny!reader ? click here !

© yearlyjams , 2026

⠀⠀ 𝒾.⠀ 𓂅 ⠀·⠀⠀⠀　𝒕𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⠀ : @ebvnydesires @cherisboring @smoothcriminalgf @princesspluuto @curlypytclubx @tinydreamerpillar @thelittletobsterthatcould @itsnaikou @mikedotorg @sugacor3 @blkkbratt @dottedseven @kitten-bell @looenx @siighrns @watamotee33 @ifthistown @king-mila @loveposiie @ghazalbambi @angelxcs @kynswrldd 𐔌 to be added to the taglist , comment under this post or fill up the form ꒱

[nistxrr]

ON CAMERA?

જ⁀➴ MASTERLIST

ྀིྀིsynopsis: michael finds the camera you got him last year and can’t seem to keep his idea to himself.

warnings: consensual filming / svx on camera oral (f!receiving) spit dom!michael unprotected p in v prvnebvne crevmp¡e established relationship

w.c: 2344

michael was in the bedroom, rummaging through an old container of his things in the back of your shared closet. his fingers brushed against the camera you’d gotten him for his birthday last year. he’d talked about it constantly but never bought one himself, despite having the money for hundreds. he never celebrated his birthday, but he cherished the gift deeply.

when he first got it, he used it obsessively. when he was out of the country, on tour, he’d record moments to share with you when you reunited. and when he was at home, which was rare, he’d secretly film you cooking, cleaning, or just standing there, unaware. it was his way of capturing your life together, memories for when you were old and grey.

those moments flickered through his mind, a slight smile spreading across his face. but there was one thing he’d always wanted to do, something he’d been too nervous to ask. today, with the house empty and nothing else to do, felt like the perfect chance. he flicked the camera on, the battery nearly full from disuse. he packed the container’s contents back, closed it, and pushed it into the closet’s shadows.

standing, dusting his knees, he grabbed the camera and left the bedroom, heading to the kitchen where he guessed you’d be. you were finishing the last dishes, wiping the counter. he snapped a picture, the click and flash catching you off guard.

“where’d you find that? i thought you threw it away,” you said, confused, grabbing a paper towel to dry your hands.

“no, baby. why would i throw this away? there’s lots of things it could be used for.”

you drifted closer, curiosity in your eyes. “like what?”

he set the camera on the island’s marble counter. his hands found your waist, drew you in until your breath tangled with his. “we could make a movie,” he murmured against your lips. “something private. something only we could look at.”

you were a bit surprised. you and michael had been intimate before, but you had never filmed anything like this. the teasing smirk on his face told you he’d been waiting for this for months, maybe longer. so you went along.

you bit your lip, smiling. “yeah?”

“of course,” he said, pausing for a warm kiss. “is that something you’d wanna do? because i’d love it.”

“i’d love it too,” you replied, kissing him again, biting your lip as you pulled back. you walked slowly toward the bedroom.

“oh, that’s what we’re doin’ today?” he asked, nibbling his bottom lip.

“doin’ what?” you teased, glancing back as you sauntered away.

he grabbed the camera, switched it to record, and followed you, closing the bedroom door behind him. you sat perched at the edge of the bed, legs crossed, your small dress riding up your thighs. michael zoomed in, licking his lips. “look at that…”

“stand up and take your dress off for the camera,” he said, eyes locked on yours above the lens.

you paused, looking at him. “is that what you want me to do?”

michael nodded. “go on, don’t be shy. it’s only for us.”

you stood slowly, pulling the dress straps down your arms, revealing your bare chest. a low groan rumbled from his throat as you slid the dress lower, exposing your lace panties. the dress pooled at your ankles and you stepped out, waiting for his next command. “you wanna take those off? or do you want me to take ’em off?” he asked, referring to your pqnties.

“you can take ’em off, baby.”

“lay back and hold the camera for me.”

you lay back on the bed, reaching for the camera as he handed it to you, flipping it to face him. you grinned, pressing your foot playfully against his chest. he smiled, kissing your ankle wetly, the soft smack echoing. he set your foot down, unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his lean chest with a faint line of hair trailing down his stomach, then dropped to his knees between your legs.

his lips traced wet kisses from your ankle to your inner thighs, each smack loud in the quiet room. your heart raced, your panties dampening. he looked up for approval to remove them. with your nod, he stared into the camera, biting his lip as he pulled your panties down, the lace whispering against your skin. he spread your legs, your wet folds glistening. his thumb rubbed your slit, the slick sound filling the air, before his mouth latched onto your clit. “oh, that feels so good,” you moaned, angling the camera to capture it all.

michael pulled back, smirking at the camera as his tongue came out to wet his lips. his large hands gripped your thighs, pulling them over his shoulders. he buried his face between them without a word. his tongue flicked in every crevice, teasing every hidden fold. your hips bucked, pleasure coiling tight in your lower stomach. breath came in ragged gasps, caught by the lens. he took his time, savoring you. he pulled back just enough, eyes dark with hunger, and let a slow, deliberate drop of spit fall from his lips, landing warm and slick on your clit. you gasped, fingers tightening on the camera.

he went back down, sucking your clit in and out of his mouth, hands gripping the back of your thighs, spreading them apart just enough so the cool air brushed against your slick, exposed skin. you ground against his face, a soft moan slipping free. the camera almost slipped from your trembling hand. you spasmed, writhed, moaned, until you came, waves crashing through you. michael never came up for air. he lapped up every drop, relentless, until you were pushing his head away with all your strength.

you dropped the camera on the bed and curled into a ball in the middle, breathless. michael held back a laugh, stood, grabbed the camera, and set it on the nightstand, framing you both. he slid off his pajama pants and boxers. he reached down, wrapping his hand around himself and pulling back the foreskin to reveal his flushed, glistening tip, already slick with precum. his mouth fell open in a soft groan as he twisted his hand slowly along his length, eyes locked on you. then suddenly, he let go with reluctance and shifted closer to you.

he pulled you up, turned you over onto your stomach. hands on your hips, he lifted your ass into the air, sliding palms to your lower back, pressing you into a perfect arch. he tried spreading your legs wider, but to his surprise, you couldn’t let them part any further, your thighs still trembling from the aftershocks.

his hands glide up and down your back, large and warm, pressing gently into your skin. “spread your legs some more, mama,” he muttered against your ear.

you sigh into the sheets and shake your head every so slightly. “i can’t, michael.”

his hands slide up your sides, warm and steady, then press between your shoulder blades. “down,” he murmurs, voice low and rough. he pushes you gently but firmly until your chest meets the mattress, arms stretching out in front of you. your hips stay tilted up for a second, ass still raised, before he follows you down.

michael takes his time as the thick head of his dick drags slowly up and down your soaked folds, teasing your entrance with lazy circles, pressing just inside before pulling back out. each shallow nudge makes your hips twitch, trying to chase him, but he keeps you pinned with his weight, chuckling softly against your neck when you whimper. he rubs the tip over your clit, then back down, spreading your wetness, until you’re practically pushing back against him.

finally he lines up and sinks in — slow, deliberate, letting you feel every inch stretch you open while your thighs stay pressed tight together. it’s so much deeper like this, the angle perfect and overwhelming. a heavy breath leaves him against the back of your neck as he bottoms out, chest flush to your back, hips grinding in tight little circles once he’s fully buried.

“fuck… there you go,” he breathes, lips brushing your ear. one arm hooks under your shoulder to hold you close while the other slips beneath your hips, pulling you up just enough to meet each lazy, heavy stroke. every thrust pushes you harder into the bed, the weight of him pinning you flat, your fingers fisting the sheets as your muffled whimpers fill the quiet room.

you feel completely surrounded by him, trapped in the best way, every thick inch pressing deep while his body keeps you right where he wants you. his arm slips away from your shoulder and he leans down close to your ear, whispering, “grab the camera for me and put it in front of you.” his hips never stutter, keeping up those steady, concentrated thrusts. you do as told, reaching for the camera and positioning it in front of your face — holding it with one hand, while michael hooks his arm back under your shoulder like before.

your face is flushed and half buried in the sheets, eyes fluttering, lips parted as you let out soft broken whimpers. from this angle you catch glimpses of michael behind you, his body covering yours, hips rolling in that steady rhythm, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin. the lens picks up every little detail, the way your body rocks under him, your fingers gripping the device as pleasure washes over your features.

michael leans down closer, turning his head to capture your lips in a nasty, wet kiss. his mouth moves against yours, tongue sliding in deep and messy, tasting you while he keeps thrusting without missing a beat. the kiss is sloppy and hungry, spit mixing between you as soft sounds escape, his breath hot against your skin and his groans vibrating into your mouth. he then trails down to your neck, lips and tongue dragging wetly along your skin, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spots that make you shiver.

“does my baby feel good?” he asks, voice low and teasing right against your neck, his breath warm on your damp skin. all you manage is a broken moan and a quick nod, your body trembling under him, words completely failing you in the haze. but that isn’t good enough for michael. he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes dark with expectation. “open up that pretty mouth and use your words,” he tells you. you swallow hard, trying to steady your breathing, the camera still shaky in your grip as you hold it in front of your flushed face. “yes… it feels so good, michael,” you manage, voice shaky and soft, another whimper slipping out right after.

he hums in approval against your skin, the sound vibrating through you as his lips brush your ear again. “good girrl,” he murmurs, voice thick with satisfaction, and you can hear the smile in it even if you can’t see his face. his hand slides up to cup your jaw gently, thumb stroking your cheek while he keeps you pressed into the mattress. “keep it right there for me,” he whispers, encouraging you to hold the lens steady. pleasure coils tighter in your belly with every movement, the fullness and friction overwhelming in the best way, your body clenching around him as another wave starts to build.

you moan his name softly, the words tumbling out easier now, and he rewards you with a deeper grind, his free hand slipping under you to press against your lower stomach, feeling exactly where he’s buried inside you. the room fills with the wet sounds of your bodies moving together and the shaky breaths you both share, the camera recording it all for just the two of you.

the pressure inside you builds faster than you expect, every nerve singing as michael keeps that perfect rhythm, his fingers never stopping their teasing circles. your moans turn into desperate little cries, the camera shaking slightly in your grip while you try to keep it aimed at your face. “michael… i’m so close,” you gasp, the words spilling out before you can stop them, voice cracking with need. he makes a low sound of encouragement, pressing his forehead to the back of your head, his body heat wrapping around you like a blanket.

“come for me then, baby. let me see it,” he urges, his breath ragged against your hair. the words push you right over the edge. pleasure crashes through you hard, your whole body tensing and shaking as waves of it roll out from your core. you cry out, loud and unrestrained, eyes squeezing shut while the orgasm takes over, leaving you pulsing and breathless. the camera catches every second — your parted lips, the way your face twists in ecstasy, the tremble in your shoulders as you ride it out.

michael follows not long after, groaning deeply as he buries himself as far as he can, hips stuttering for the first time while he spills inside you. his arm tightens around you, holding you through the aftershocks that ripple between you both. for a long moment the only sounds are your shared heavy breathing. slowly the world comes back into focus, your limbs feeling heavy and warm, a pleasant ache settling deep in your muscles.

he carefully eases out of you and rolls to the side, pulling you against his chest in one smooth motion. his fingers brush damp hair from your face, gentle now after all the intensity. “you did so good,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, then another to your lips. you smile tiredly, curling into him. the camera rested above your head on the mattress, michael reached up to grab it, turning it off and placing it on the nightstand. you knew michael would’ve liked to revisit the footage as of now, but in the very moment, you let yourself drift in his arms, content and satisfied.

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