description: for date night, you and michael decide on a movie drive in. it’s grease, one of michael’s favorites. enjoying popcorn and laughter slowly turns into something much more heated and passionate beyond words.
warnings: subbish!michael, michael x reader, pre thriller era, unprotected smex (LOCKEMUP), filthy nasty smut, 18+, lowercase intended, thriller!mike
a/n: so everyone loved the last fic, and i was lowkey bored so i just wanted to share this. btw id love to have some moots. lmk how you like it guys! MIND YALL I DIDNT PROOFREAD
“eeee!” you screeched, as you entered michael’s recent purchase. a deep red, cadillac with tinted windows and a beautiful interior. grinning, michael jumps in the driver seat, excited to spend some uninterrupted time with his girl.
the static sound of the radio was turned down by michael, while the two of you slowly entered the drive-in lot. there were many other cars and people, luckily the windows were tinted so there wasn’t any fame theatrics.
reaching for your bag, you pull out the snacks katherine—michael’s mother had packed for the two of you. there was popcorn, cinnamon candy, everything of all sorts. then there was your favorite; cola.
michael took pride in his duty of searching for a reasonable park, while you carefully set up the glasses of cola in the cup holders and snacks along the dash for easy access.
the movie starts, of course its grease. it’s going crazy on the charts at the moment, and michael loves it. you prefer something a bit more exciting. but despite your movie preferences you still want to enjoy time with your boyfriend.
as the movie rolls, the two of you laugh and chat at certain moments. it’s been about three times you’ve heard michael say, “oh here’s my favorite part!” but you enjoy it anyway.
the popcorn bag the two of you shared was now reaching the bottom as michael finished it off. you glanced at michael—who was already eyeing you beforehand, asking him to open your cola.
with a simple pop sound the glass bottle opened. you smiled to show your thankfulness. the cola bottle softly met your lips, and you sipped the cold drink. the sweet liquid hitting your tastebuds. you hum in approval.
just when you look over, michael is still looking. you crack a wide smile—“y’know your supposed to be watching the movie mikey, not me.” you joke.
michael nervously turns red. “m’ sorry sweetheart your just so pretty to me.” he spoke, hiding the sinister thoughts surrounding his mind, seeing your lips wrap around the tip of the glass cola bottle.
you grin and lean closer to the heat radiating off of his body, placing the dampened glass firmly into the cup holder.
michael’s hand slowly reaches over, resting on your thigh nervously. his thumb lightly rubbing in circles. it’s almost like he was trying to communicate something without actually speaking.
you eyes wander over to him, staring at him as the moonlight shines against his brown, toned skin. using your index finger, that was still a tad bit cold from your fresh cola—you turn his face to yours.
the two of you now inches apart. eyes meeting. the heat surfacing in michael’s cheeks were obvious, as the color crimson red came upon his face.
you smiled sweetly in admiration. “why so nervous baby?” you question, with that same index finger now trailing down his arm softly.
michael shudders under your touch. "because suddenly i’m realizing how much i actually want you," he whispered, his voice trembling slightly as he rested his forehead against yours.
his hands hovered uncertainly over your waist, scared to hold on too tight. "it’s hitting me all at once... how beautiful you are, and i don’t want to mess this up." he looked at you with wide, earnest eyes.
“okay michael, i understand that, but we’re only watching a silly little movie baby.” you chuckle softly. easing his nerves.
"i just wanna do so much to you," he whispered desperately, his cheeks flushing pink as he tucked his face into your neck. his hands settled lightly on your waist, trembling like he didn't know where to touch.
"literally everything. i wanna kiss you everywhere, make you feel good... but i’m terrified of doing it wrong." he sounded utterly sweet, needy, and terrified.
his breath against your neck and the tone of his neediest, made your core ache. although you and michael often kiss and makeout, he’s never admitted these such things.
your eyes met his with need, once he pulled away from your warm soft body. your mouths met in a slow, incredibly sweet rhythm, instantly melting his nerves.
michael kissed you with total reverence, his hands shaking softly as they slid over your hips and traced up your sides. It wasn't greedy or rough—it was desperate worship. you smoothed your hands through his fluffy hair, his fingers brushing softly against your curves, whimpering quietly against your mouth like he was absolutely obsessed.
the console between you made things awkward, forcing michael to lean halfway over the emergency brake to reach you. his erection was obvious, straining tight against his jeans as he pressed into your space, kissing you with desperate, needy little whimpers.
your hand drifted down, palming him through the denim, and his hips bucked automatically, a choked gasp tearing from his throat. “oh my goodness.”
The thought of being caught made you freeze, your eyes darting around nervously. michael noticed immediately, his voice low and soothing as he nipped your bottom lip. "baby... look at me. The windows are tinted, okay? no one can see shit. Just..."
“mmm— back there baby.” you murmer against his lips which were drenched in your saliva along with a slight hint of lip gloss. michael’s hands were steady now. guiding you to the backseat.
his cheeks rosy from the view of your pink floral dress, riding up your backside; showing the plumpness of your asscheeks along with your white panties—which were lined with lace and bows as you climbed into the cushioned seating.
“goodness, baby. the shit you do to me girl.” michael huffs out just before using his strength to squeeze his body in the backseat right after you excitingly.
scrambling into the cramped backseat, the atmosphere shifted into shy, frantic intimacy. you both fumbled with buttons and zippers, stripping down to your underwear with trembling hands, michael’s cheeks burning a bright red as he took in your exposed skin.
he laid you back gently, his fingers shaking violently as he slid your panties to the side. "is this okay?"
“it’s more than okay baby, i want it” you said softly, eyeing the veins that traveled down his arms to his hands.
michael’s fingers slipped inside you slowly, his knuckles white with nerves as he curled them just right. you arched against the leather seat, gasping his name as he found that perfect spot.
“yes michael, right- there.” He watched your face with needy attention, kissing you deeply while his thumb circled your clit. Just as you started clenching around him, he pulled out abruptly, panting hard.
"i—i don't want to make you cum without... you know. with my mouth," he stuttered, his face burning crimson as he stared at your dripping entrance. "i want to taste you." his voice was small and shy, laced with raw want. "If that's okay? fuck, I'm so nervous." he confessed, licking his lips.
“yes baby, do whatever you wanna do to me. i’m all yours.” you smile up at him. michael smiled right back. the nerves slowly easing away, as confidence creeped in.
that permission broke his nerves instantly. michael melted between your legs, wasting absolutely zero time before burying his face. he ate you out with sudden, sloppy confidence—sucking your clit, dragging his tongue through your folds, and fucking you with his tongue until your legs were shaking violently. he worshiped you completely, swallowing every noise and whine you made like he was starving.
your thighs locked around his head, pressing his face deeper into your folds as the movie's explosions muffled your cries. he sucked your clit hard, tongue working frantically while you came undone, your head knocking gently against the cold glass. michael groaned against you, the vibration pushing you through your orgasm as you clutched at his hair, whispering his name like a prayer.
softly gripping his shoulders, you swiftly push him off of you, the pleasure still settling between your legs. “fuck baby.. my god.” you sigh, coming down from your excruciating high.
he crawled back up your body slowly, planting soft kisses along your stomach, your chest, your collarbone before finally reaching your lips. michael hovered over you, his sweaty forehead pressed to yours, breathing ragged. "i’ve wanted to do that since the first time you called me baby," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "you letting me take care of you like this..."
“i just love you so much michael.” you sigh, fingertips tracing down his toned muscles lined up throughout his stomach—finally reaching the waist band of his boxers. you pull them down, and watched as he sprung out from the tightness of the cotton.
he paused, his hard length pressing against your entrance now but not pushing in yet. michael searched your face, his thumb brushing your cheek gently. "Say you're mine," he whispered, needy and vulnerable. "please, baby. i need to hear you say it before i... before i fuck you." his voice trembled with desperation.
"i’m yours, sweet boy," you whispered softly, brushing your messy hair back from his sweaty forehead. "i’m completely yours. you can have anything you want." you cupped his face, kissing him deeply, overwhelming him with absolute reassurance. "do whatever you need to do to me, baby. i’m right here." michael melted instantly, burying his face in your neck.
he pushed into you with a slow, deliberate rhythm, missionary allowing him to press his entire chest flush against yours. it wasn't fucking; it was worship. michael moved deep and sensual, kissing every whimper from your lips, his hips rolling in a way that had you gasping. he whispered soft praises against your mouth—"you feel so good," "you're so perfect, baby.”
with every deep thrust, the car rocked slightly, the frame creaking softly in time with your combined movements. the movie's soundtrack and dialogue provided a perfect cover for your gasps and michael’s muffled groans against your skin. he hooked his arms under your knees, spreading you wide and driving even deeper.
the nerves were gone, nowhere to be found. as the two of you were holding each other close, secluded in pleasure. it felt so good, not only physically but mentally. you could feel all the happy memories with him with every thrust. you could feel all of his love pushing into your warm insides.
your back hit the cold glass of the back door as michael folded you in half, draping your legs over his shoulders and pounding into you with ruthless intensity. but his lips were brushing your ear, voice breaking into a soft, reverent coo. "you’re taking it so perfectly, my sweet girl... you're doing everything right. that’s my baby, just let me love you..."
as you cried out, your walls clenched rhythmically around michael, pushing him over the edge, while you came. he pulled out suddenly, stroking himself once, twice before coming undone, spilling hot onto your stomach. "fuck," he panted, forehead resting against yours. “i love you so much right now..."
you cleaned yourselves up gently with tissues, helping each other back into underwear and jeans with shaky limbs. the movie credits were scrolling on the big screen, the final music fading out.
you scrambled into the passenger seat while michael slid into the driver's, both of you messy-haired and flushed, instantly leaning over to hold hands. michael kissed your palm softly, grounding you. "you okay, baby?"
"m’ perfect," you whispered, squeezing his hand as the drive-in screen finally cut to black. michael leaned across the console, pressing a long, soft kiss to your forehead, utterly obsessed. he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, smoothing down your clothes. "i love you," he murmured gently. "my girl." you settled into your seat, completely loved and safe.
description: for date night, you and michael decide on a movie drive in. it’s grease, one of michael’s favorites. enjoying popcorn and laughter slowly turns into something much more heated and passionate beyond words.
warnings: subbish!michael, michael x reader, pre thriller era, unprotected smex (LOCKEMUP), filthy nasty smut, 18+, lowercase intended, thriller!mike
a/n: so everyone loved the last fic, and i was lowkey bored so i just wanted to share this. btw id love to have some moots. lmk how you like it guys! MIND YALL I DIDNT PROOFREAD
“eeee!” you screeched, as you entered michael’s recent purchase. a deep red, cadillac with tinted windows and a beautiful interior. grinning, michael jumps in the driver seat, excited to spend some uninterrupted time with his girl.
the static sound of the radio was turned down by michael, while the two of you slowly entered the drive-in lot. there were many other cars and people, luckily the windows were tinted so there wasn’t any fame theatrics.
reaching for your bag, you pull out the snacks katherine—michael’s mother had packed for the two of you. there was popcorn, cinnamon candy, everything of all sorts. then there was your favorite; cola.
michael took pride in his duty of searching for a reasonable park, while you carefully set up the glasses of cola in the cup holders and snacks along the dash for easy access.
the movie starts, of course its grease. it’s going crazy on the charts at the moment, and michael loves it. you prefer something a bit more exciting. but despite your movie preferences you still want to enjoy time with your boyfriend.
as the movie rolls, the two of you laugh and chat at certain moments. it’s been about three times you’ve heard michael say, “oh here’s my favorite part!” but you enjoy it anyway.
the popcorn bag the two of you shared was now reaching the bottom as michael finished it off. you glanced at michael—who was already eyeing you beforehand, asking him to open your cola.
with a simple pop sound the glass bottle opened. you smiled to show your thankfulness. the cola bottle softly met your lips, and you sipped the cold drink. the sweet liquid hitting your tastebuds. you hum in approval.
just when you look over, michael is still looking. you crack a wide smile—“y’know your supposed to be watching the movie mikey, not me.” you joke.
michael nervously turns red. “m’ sorry sweetheart your just so pretty to me.” he spoke, hiding the sinister thoughts surrounding his mind, seeing your lips wrap around the tip of the glass cola bottle.
you grin and lean closer to the heat radiating off of his body, placing the dampened glass firmly into the cup holder.
michael’s hand slowly reaches over, resting on your thigh nervously. his thumb lightly rubbing in circles. it’s almost like he was trying to communicate something without actually speaking.
you eyes wander over to him, staring at him as the moonlight shines against his brown, toned skin. using your index finger, that was still a tad bit cold from your fresh cola—you turn his face to yours.
the two of you now inches apart. eyes meeting. the heat surfacing in michael’s cheeks were obvious, as the color crimson red came upon his face.
you smiled sweetly in admiration. “why so nervous baby?” you question, with that same index finger now trailing down his arm softly.
michael shudders under your touch. "because suddenly i’m realizing how much i actually want you," he whispered, his voice trembling slightly as he rested his forehead against yours.
his hands hovered uncertainly over your waist, scared to hold on too tight. "it’s hitting me all at once... how beautiful you are, and i don’t want to mess this up." he looked at you with wide, earnest eyes.
“okay michael, i understand that, but we’re only watching a silly little movie baby.” you chuckle softly. easing his nerves.
"i just wanna do so much to you," he whispered desperately, his cheeks flushing pink as he tucked his face into your neck. his hands settled lightly on your waist, trembling like he didn't know where to touch.
"literally everything. i wanna kiss you everywhere, make you feel good... but i’m terrified of doing it wrong." he sounded utterly sweet, needy, and terrified.
his breath against your neck and the tone of his neediest, made your core ache. although you and michael often kiss and makeout, he’s never admitted these such things.
your eyes met his with need, once he pulled away from your warm soft body. your mouths met in a slow, incredibly sweet rhythm, instantly melting his nerves.
michael kissed you with total reverence, his hands shaking softly as they slid over your hips and traced up your sides. It wasn't greedy or rough—it was desperate worship. you smoothed your hands through his fluffy hair, his fingers brushing softly against your curves, whimpering quietly against your mouth like he was absolutely obsessed.
the console between you made things awkward, forcing michael to lean halfway over the emergency brake to reach you. his erection was obvious, straining tight against his jeans as he pressed into your space, kissing you with desperate, needy little whimpers.
your hand drifted down, palming him through the denim, and his hips bucked automatically, a choked gasp tearing from his throat. “oh my goodness.”
The thought of being caught made you freeze, your eyes darting around nervously. michael noticed immediately, his voice low and soothing as he nipped your bottom lip. "baby... look at me. The windows are tinted, okay? no one can see shit. Just..."
“mmm— back there baby.” you murmer against his lips which were drenched in your saliva along with a slight hint of lip gloss. michael’s hands were steady now. guiding you to the backseat.
his cheeks rosy from the view of your pink floral dress, riding up your backside; showing the plumpness of your asscheeks along with your white panties—which were lined with lace and bows as you climbed into the cushioned seating.
“goodness, baby. the shit you do to me girl.” michael huffs out just before using his strength to squeeze his body in the backseat right after you excitingly.
scrambling into the cramped backseat, the atmosphere shifted into shy, frantic intimacy. you both fumbled with buttons and zippers, stripping down to your underwear with trembling hands, michael’s cheeks burning a bright red as he took in your exposed skin.
he laid you back gently, his fingers shaking violently as he slid your panties to the side. "is this okay?"
“it’s more than okay baby, i want it” you said softly, eyeing the veins that traveled down his arms to his hands.
michael’s fingers slipped inside you slowly, his knuckles white with nerves as he curled them just right. you arched against the leather seat, gasping his name as he found that perfect spot.
“yes michael, right- there.” He watched your face with needy attention, kissing you deeply while his thumb circled your clit. Just as you started clenching around him, he pulled out abruptly, panting hard.
"i—i don't want to make you cum without... you know. with my mouth," he stuttered, his face burning crimson as he stared at your dripping entrance. "i want to taste you." his voice was small and shy, laced with raw want. "If that's okay? fuck, I'm so nervous." he confessed, licking his lips.
“yes baby, do whatever you wanna do to me. i’m all yours.” you smile up at him. michael smiled right back. the nerves slowly easing away, as confidence creeped in.
that permission broke his nerves instantly. michael melted between your legs, wasting absolutely zero time before burying his face. he ate you out with sudden, sloppy confidence—sucking your clit, dragging his tongue through your folds, and fucking you with his tongue until your legs were shaking violently. he worshiped you completely, swallowing every noise and whine you made like he was starving.
your thighs locked around his head, pressing his face deeper into your folds as the movie's explosions muffled your cries. he sucked your clit hard, tongue working frantically while you came undone, your head knocking gently against the cold glass. michael groaned against you, the vibration pushing you through your orgasm as you clutched at his hair, whispering his name like a prayer.
softly gripping his shoulders, you swiftly push him off of you, the pleasure still settling between your legs. “fuck baby.. my god.” you sigh, coming down from your excruciating high.
he crawled back up your body slowly, planting soft kisses along your stomach, your chest, your collarbone before finally reaching your lips. michael hovered over you, his sweaty forehead pressed to yours, breathing ragged. "i’ve wanted to do that since the first time you called me baby," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "you letting me take care of you like this..."
“i just love you so much michael.” you sigh, fingertips tracing down his toned muscles lined up throughout his stomach—finally reaching the waist band of his boxers. you pull them down, and watched as he sprung out from the tightness of the cotton.
he paused, his hard length pressing against your entrance now but not pushing in yet. michael searched your face, his thumb brushing your cheek gently. "Say you're mine," he whispered, needy and vulnerable. "please, baby. i need to hear you say it before i... before i fuck you." his voice trembled with desperation.
"i’m yours, sweet boy," you whispered softly, brushing your messy hair back from his sweaty forehead. "i’m completely yours. you can have anything you want." you cupped his face, kissing him deeply, overwhelming him with absolute reassurance. "do whatever you need to do to me, baby. i’m right here." michael melted instantly, burying his face in your neck.
he pushed into you with a slow, deliberate rhythm, missionary allowing him to press his entire chest flush against yours. it wasn't fucking; it was worship. michael moved deep and sensual, kissing every whimper from your lips, his hips rolling in a way that had you gasping. he whispered soft praises against your mouth—"you feel so good," "you're so perfect, baby.”
with every deep thrust, the car rocked slightly, the frame creaking softly in time with your combined movements. the movie's soundtrack and dialogue provided a perfect cover for your gasps and michael’s muffled groans against your skin. he hooked his arms under your knees, spreading you wide and driving even deeper.
the nerves were gone, nowhere to be found. as the two of you were holding each other close, secluded in pleasure. it felt so good, not only physically but mentally. you could feel all the happy memories with him with every thrust. you could feel all of his love pushing into your warm insides.
your back hit the cold glass of the back door as michael folded you in half, draping your legs over his shoulders and pounding into you with ruthless intensity. but his lips were brushing your ear, voice breaking into a soft, reverent coo. "you’re taking it so perfectly, my sweet girl... you're doing everything right. that’s my baby, just let me love you..."
as you cried out, your walls clenched rhythmically around michael, pushing him over the edge, while you came. he pulled out suddenly, stroking himself once, twice before coming undone, spilling hot onto your stomach. "fuck," he panted, forehead resting against yours. “i love you so much right now..."
you cleaned yourselves up gently with tissues, helping each other back into underwear and jeans with shaky limbs. the movie credits were scrolling on the big screen, the final music fading out.
you scrambled into the passenger seat while michael slid into the driver's, both of you messy-haired and flushed, instantly leaning over to hold hands. michael kissed your palm softly, grounding you. "you okay, baby?"
"m’ perfect," you whispered, squeezing his hand as the drive-in screen finally cut to black. michael leaned across the console, pressing a long, soft kiss to your forehead, utterly obsessed. he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, smoothing down your clothes. "i love you," he murmured gently. "my girl." you settled into your seat, completely loved and safe.
description: you and michael are having troubles spending time together due to his career. a supposed date night turns into a flake, but can michael make it up to you?
syn: established relationship, soft dom!michael, 18+, whole lotta angst, whole lotta smut, sub!reader, bad!era, purposefully lowercase! UM TS IS SO DAMN NASTY LMAO
a/n: y’all asked…y’all received. AND PLEASE IGNORE MY GRAMMAR IDK WDF I BE TALM BOUT 😂😂😂
“ma’am, would you like a refill on that wine?”
the polite voice of the waitress snapping you out of your trance— in which you were staring right at the empty seat in front of you.
you nodded with a smile. as you watched the burgundy-stained liquid pour into your glass, your heart ached at the fact that your boyfriend, michael had been 15 minutes late.
about a week ago, michael reserved this new dining experience just for the two of you. no cameras, no fans, no family, just each other.
due to the consistent work being put in of the making of his new album, bad; the two of you had rarely seen each other. the both of you were so busy. so michael selected this date so you could spare some time together.
finally you notice how your glass had been filled three times, and how the seat in front of you was still empty. checking your watch, now to see that it’s been a whole hour. you don’t say anything but grab some cash out of your purse, placing it on the table for the waitress as her tip.
you step into the car as a sudden weight of sadness fell over you. michael hadn’t came. there were no updates either. tears began to sting your eyes in the backseat of the luxurious car.
you finally arrived home. your driver escorting you into the house, then sending him off with a goodnight and fake smile. just to show that you were okay.
with the clack of your heels dreading through the empty home, you finally make it to your bedroom. undoing the beautiful dress you wore, and tossing it onto the chair beside your bed.
after a warm shower, and putting on your favorite nightgown, you snuggle up into the sheets. the sadness still clawing at your throat, tears slowly began to fall. but despite the emotions that needed to be let out, you were tired. so you went to sleep.
well—you attempted to. your eyes flashed open quickly met with the sound of movement downstairs. you already knew it was michael, because he was humming some sort of song.
the weight of hurt in your chest began aching again. but you didn’t want to face the problem tonight so you just acted as if you were asleep.
a chill goes down your body as michael enters the room. you can’t tell if the chill represents pain or anger, but you know it’s one of the two
michael’s footsteps slow down for a moment, you guess he’s undressing, you can hear the rustles of his heavy belt and his heavy clothing dropping into the laundry basket.
you just sigh as you hear him getting closer. the bed dips beneath you and you can hear him climb in. he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closely.
you couldn’t keep up the fake sleeping act—you were too upset and hurt not to show it. you removed his arm from around you and scooted away.
“m-mama, you awake?” michael questions softly a bit confused.
you let out another sigh, this time loud enough for michael to hear. the tears are coming back. “just go to sleep michael.” you exhale shakily.
“baby… is everything okay?” michael is clearly concerned. ignoring him you scoot further away. michael sighs and looks around the room despite the dim lighting. suddenly, his eyes land on the chair a few feet away from you. which is a beautiful, deep, red dress.
suddenly everything clicks. “shit.” michael mumbled under his breath. “baby.. oh my goodness, baby i’m sorry.” his hand reaches for your soft skin once again, only for you to reject it.
just the act of michael reaching out alone triggers you. the emotions inside of you begging to be let out. to calm yourself, you rise and sit up with your feet dangling off the bed.
michael follows and slides right behind you. his finger dances into the hair on the side of your head, softly pulling it back to flip over your other shoulder, leaving one side of your neck, shoulder, and ears bare. you stay quiet.
michael can fill the guilt unraveling in his mind, he was worried sick. he hated letting you down, especially when it was so—unintentional.
sweetheart, i’m so sorry… i would’ve loved to eat dinner with you but quincy dragged me to the after party…” he said with his chin now resting along your shoulder.
despite his touch you stayed still as the tears threatened to steam down your warm cheeks.
“baby, say somethin’. he frowned. “your scaring me honey… i know we planned to have dinner, but things got carried away. it’s like everyone wanted a piece of me tonight. i’m terribly sorry. i should have been there.” his hand slowly rubbing your tender arms, which were rested by your sides.
gently shrugging him off, you stand and turn. you just stare at him. it’s like so many emotions want to come out but it hurts. michael looks up in your eyes with worry and guilt, he can feel it soaring through his veins.
“when will i have a piece of you?” you shakily exhale. michaels eyes travel down to his hands which are now picking at the skin on his knees trying to distract the nerves he feels all over.
michael opened his mouth and before he could even speak. “i cleared out my schedule. i wore that dress you love even though the lining pokes at my sides. i sat there with hope, only for it to be lost everytime the waiter continuously asked me where the rest of my party was.” you finally stated.
michael’s eyes, traced every detail of your face. he saw the pain and disappointment in every wrinkle. swallowing nervously, his hands came up to yours, gently cradling them together in his lap.
“you mean so much to me”—
“i can barely tell when you don’t even show up to a dinner YOU reserved!” you snarked.
michael sucked in his bottom lip between his teeth, showing frustration. not with you but with himself.
“sometimes it feels like i’m invisible to you. i know i mean a lot to you. but im beginning to doubt it.” you sigh, trying to calm down.
“baby…we’ve been together for so long. i love you so much. things are changing, the both of our lives are changing.” his hands left yours, cradling your hips.
“but from now on, i will forever keep you first. despite all that’s been happening, and our shared time being cut due to our schedules… i wanna keep lovin’ you mama. n’ i wanna do it right.” he spoke in that soft whisper tone that could’ve put you to sleep right then and there. his hands gently caressed your sides and started to slide up. his slim thumb, sitting perfectly tucked under your boob.
before you could even let out a word he pulled you onto his lap. as your body wrapped around his, he took it all in. your scent, your warmth, your love.
with his face shoved into the heat of your neck, your hands went up to rest in his curls. “i love you too michael. but i’m just so tired… physically and mentally.” you could feel his arms wrapped around your waist softly tightening at the sound of your words.. which were filled with unease.
pulling away from your neck, you felt his warm breath against your lips. “then let me put you to sleep baby, and show you how sorry i am.”
you softly bit your lips… “i ain’t letting you off that easy baby.” your hands now relaxed on his shoulders.
michael let out a low chuckle while his hands traveled sensually down your back and softly groped your behind. his fingertips dancing along your skin mixed with the fabric of your soft baby pink nightgown that was riding up your thighs.
micheal’s lips pecked the corner of yours, then up to your cheek, then towards your ear. catching the sweet skin of your lobe in between his lips. his hot breath spreading onto your skin unevenly.
as he moved his kisses all around the perimeter of your neck, jaw, and ears he softly murmured—despite his words being interrupted by the sounds of his lips on your skin. “vacation. you and me. ireland? sounds fun.”
you could feel his neediness with the way his lips didn’t disconnect from your bareness, and the way his hands continuously caressed the flesh of your ass cheeks.
you weren’t angry at michael. just sad and disappointed. but the way he was holding and touching you, it was hard to remember why you were upset in the first place.
finally giving in, you hum in approval of his plans, while your hands meet both the sides of his jaw. mouths intertwining deeply. the movement of his tongues in your warm mouth, representing his desire for forgiveness. “fuck. mama— i’m really sorry hun.” he whines into the kiss.
your hips begin to move uncontrollably, a slow grind warming up your entire body. a shaky breath “it’s okay baby, i forgive you… but i need you to show me a good reason why” you said with a roll of your hips. michael’s fingers pressed into your backside pulling you in closer as his lips met yours. “alright mama, anything for you my love.” he mumbled, practically into your mouth.
the fingers that danced along your skin, softly and sensually, now rested under your thighs with strength. michael cradled you into his arms and flipped you over. with your back hitting the soft silky sheets, his body towering over you with his curls hanging from his face. after the two of you admire each other for quite long enough, michael readjusted the placement of your body. instead of you being on the side of the bed, your head now laid upon the pillows.
your back arched against the sheets as his long fingers felt the heat between your legs, slowly treading against your thigh. The tension that had simmered between you for days finally snapped the moment he pulled you onto the bed. "I'm sorry” he exhaled again.
michael's fingers tangled in the hem of your thin silk nightgown, yanking it up to your waist without struggle. finding you completely bare underneath, his dark eyes flashed with predatory hunger. he spread your legs wide, his hands gripping your thighs gently as he lowered his head, feasting on your warmth with slick, wet strokes that made you whimper and arch your back.
your soft fingers now stranded within his curls as you feel the electricity being sent throughout your body. “feel good baby?” he mumbled. the vibrations of his breath sent chills up your arched spine. all you could do was nod. the pain and hurt was slowly going away and were replaced with desire and lust.
“i wanna hear you mama. talk to me, i need you to do better baby.” he let out, his soft tone being interrupted by the wet sounds of your core. waiting for an answer, michael’s tongue applied pressure to your clit, circling and then sucking. “yes!— yes michael. it feels so fucking good.” you could feel the hot nerves in your stomach coiling.
it was overwhelming. everything at once, hearing the wetness and groans of approval from michael, feeling his fingertips press into your skin controllingly, and the tickle against your stomach from his hair, which began to unravel from its original style.
michael licked a final, devastating stripe up your pussy before crawling up your body, kissing your inner thighs, stomach, and chest. he hovered over you, the silk nightgown completely bunched around your waist now. his thick, hard cock tapped against your entrance, leaking and desperate. "be a good girl, baby. i want you to feel how sorry i am.” he whispered, behind the lust clouding his gigantic eyes, you could also see the love and sorrow.
suddenly you were distracted from looking into his eyes as you felt his heavy member gently plop down against your belly button. michael had already got rid of the release his boxers had on his hardened cock. “come here baby” you say as your hands cradle his face pulling him into a kiss.
the kiss was desperate and needy—from the both of you. one of your hands glided down from his face to his cock. you could feel the cold leakage of his precum against your tummy. you stroked him softly. “yeah mama. just like that” he groaned as his eye contact dropped from the immediate pleasure being spread throughout his body.
he pushed inside slowly, one excruciating inch at a time, letting you feel every ridge of his thick cock stretching you open. "you still mad at me?" he murmured against your ear, his hips grinding forward as you clenched around him. “i’m not sure yet.” you turn your head, whining against his lips.
michael let out a low chuckle, as he began to pick up his pace. the force of his cock, hitting your walls had you forgetting the gut-punching feeling you had tonight in the restaurant. “yes baby yes—fuck, give it all to me michael, i need all of it, angel.” you moaned.
michael’s face warmed up due to the nickname, but the coil in his stomach was heating up much faster. michael reached for the tender skin under your thighs, then guiding your legs on top of his shoulders. both of them.
you let out a loud cry. it was a lot, but you asked for it. and he was giving it to you, his cock driving into you smoothly due to the wetness of your folds.
“shit girl, i love you—mama i need you” michael whined as he let out muffled moans of pleasure into the warmth of your neck. his pace was steady. almost like a beat, one thrust after the other and you were losing it.
all the air leaving your lungs, head cocking back against the pillow, which one hand was tightly gripping and the other digging nail marks into michael’s skin on his back.
the two of you were so close. you needed this, especially after feeling the distance. “michael baby, i’m gonna make a mess— fuck right there, yes!” you panted out. tears were lingering in the corners of your eyes, the pleasure was too much to bear. you couldn’t compose yourself any longer.
“let go f’me baby, please give it to me mama, i love you and i’m so sorry my baby” he moaned, as his lips shuffled from your neck to now hovering beside your ear.
your thighs started shaking violently as the coil in your stomach snapped, your orgasm crashing over you so hard you saw stars. michael let you ride it out, his name falling from your lips in broken whimpers, but he didn’t stop. he grasped your waist and flipped you onto your stomach effortlessly. "arch that back for me baby, we’re not done.”
his hands gripped your hips bruisingly tight as he slammed back inside, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. "i'm sorry, baby," he whispered, mouth hot against your ear while his cock pistoned into you relentlessly. "i know i was wrong... i shouldn't have made you feel like that." each apology came with a deep thrust that hit just right.
you couldn’t even reply, you couldn’t even think, the pleasure being so intense, it felt like your brain was turning into mush. your eyes rolling back, pleasure shooting through your veins like electricity.
he pressed his chest flush against your back, surrounding you completely in a bear hug, his thrusts turning slow and devastatingly deep. "you're my girl," he whispered softly, kissing your shoulder. "never gonna make you feel like that again, i promise." one hand slid around to rub your clit in tight circles, making you sob into the pillow as he fucked the apology right into your guts.
michael wanted to hear you, so his free hand, slid up resting under your jaw, turning your head slightly so he could at least have some sight of your pretty face. his lips lingering over your cheek.
his movements became slower, more deliberate, each thrust drawing out a whimper from both of you. His voice dropped to a husky whisper against your ear, "i love you... fuck, i love you so much." His fingers worked your clit with expert precision as he hit that perfect spot inside you repeatedly.
with a final deep thrust and a tender kiss to your neck, michael came inside you with a shuddered groan that sounded like your name. his hot release triggered your own orgasm instantly, your pussy clamping down on his cock as you both came together in a messy, loving tangle of apologies and pleas.
"stay right there, princess." he tapped your ass, and then he leaned down and buried his face between your legs, licking his own cum dripping out of your pussy. "mm, tastes like us," he murmured, tongue swirling deep to clean up the mess. it was filthy and overwhelming, making your toes curl instantly.
“mmm—baby, oh my goodness.” you shudder, due to the overstimulation charging at your nerves. michael clearly didn’t wanna stop. his nose settled right near your puckering asshole while his tongue slid smoothly against your clit.
michael's tongue became a relentless weapon, flicking and sucking at your oversensitive clit while his fingers pushed back inside you. he was determined to draw out another orgasm, his mouth and fingers working overtime to overwhelm your senses. "too much... too much," the words draw from your lips.
your fingers—which are now shaking as well fly back up to his curls. trying to push him back, but michael’s tongue resists. “no baby, move” he mumbled softly as a white sticky liquid is now surrounding his lips and jaw.
"give it to me," he murmured against your thigh, his dark eyes looking up at you with that hungry glint as his tongue kept its relentless pace. "just one more, baby... you know you want to." his thumb pressed tight against your clit while his fingers curled inside, stroking that perfect spot that made your vision blur. "c'mon, that's it..."
“oh my god, michael” you cried out, and this time it wasn’t so soft. the pleasure rang through you like a loud bell. your eyes in the back of your head as your body became limp against the sheets. nearly numb.
he softly kissed your clit before kissing your trembling thighs and crawling up your body. he captured your lips in a slow, deeply loving kiss, tasting of sex and absolute devotion. pulling your head against his chest as he flipped you back over, he rubbed your back gently. "i am so sorry, sweetheart," he whispered softly. "never upsetting you again. i promise."
you turn your head and look at him in admiration. the padded skin of your index finger now holding up his chin to look at you. “it’s okay my love, i forgive you. you made me feel exactly how sorry you were.” you couldn’t help but display a small smile. michael giggled in response before pecking the corner of your lips and cradling you close.
yall im finna retake my act rn but im overly in that michael x reader tag looking for stories ima read later while we wait… send me recs plz! I HOPE I DO GOOD YALL
━ ˙⋆✮Dangerous era!Michael who can’t help but turn doggy style into prone bone every single time. (18+ mdni)
It starts with you on all fours and his all-too-soft grip pawing at your waist— he can never bring himself to be rough with you. In fact, it’s always you who initiates this position.
There’s just something about the way he fills you so nice and deep when he hits it from the back, it’s the kind of angle that sends your hips in reverse meeting his in an echo of skin slapping skin.
And he knows you like it like that— when his dick buries into that one specific spot. So he’ll press you further into the mattress with every stroke until your tummy is flat against the sheets, with only his forearm keeping his weight from plowing into you.
“You feel s’good like this angel.” His breath rasps against your ear between thrusts.
“Wanna keep you right here— like this, all day.”
The words are a dazed groan as he buries into you deeper, his hips colliding with the curve of your ass.
“Then why don’t you?” You’re barely able to form the question with your face smushed into his pillow and your moans getting caught in your throat.
His laugh brushes against your neck and his skin sticks to yours, slick and heaving, as his chest pins you further into his bed. Each precise movement of his hips is slow and steady, sending an incoherent whine to your lips.
“I’d be happy to.” His words of accommodation are soft and sweet. A tender declaration to contradict the weight of his body pressing heavy against you. His gruff moans melt into your skin with every plunge of his cock between your thighs as he thinks about falling asleep in you after you’ve both finished— tucked deep inside your cunt with your cum seeping around his base.
Summary: The night after losing his virginity, Michael Jackson finds he can't control his body or his obsession. What begins as a tense ride home from the AMAs erupts into a raw, relentless claiming in the one place he was always meant to be innocent: his childhood bedroom. (established relationship)
Word Count: 4530
Tags: off the wall era, smut, porn with plot, oral sex (f receiving), prone bone, sexual awakening, sort of romantic smut?, michael is pussy drunk y'all, slight praise kink, marking, unprotected sex, creampie (oop) overstimulation,
Authors Note: this was a request. people want more otw mike! and another anon requested pussy drunk michael otw era as well, so NATURALLY this was born. im so sorry if this is not what either of you had in mind lmao. rarely see smut or much at all in this era tbh (ITS HIS BEST??? ARGUE W THE (off the) WALL -- hAH get it?)
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18+ minors dnu!!!
The ride home was a cocoon of tense silence. The streetlights shimmered in the night a silent parade past the tinted windows.
Michael sat in the far corner of the plush limousine seat, a beautiful statue carved from desire and anxiety.
He’d been radiant at the 1980 American Music Award presentation, his neat afro, a soft light-brown cloud, his smile shy but genuine as he spoke to peers about Off the Wall.
And for the entire three-hour affair—from the first sip of prosecco to the final standing ovation, he’d been visibly, achingly hard.
You had whooped and cheered for him as he won in three separate categories. He made sure to point and thank ‘his girl’ for being the perfect muse. You couldn’t even comprehend the wins, as you were pointedly looking at his crotch, how he was trying to hide himself.
You’d borne witness to it all.
The subtle, tortured shifts in his wide-legged trousers. The way his elegant hands would flutter to his lap, pressing down, trying to angle the thick, insistent line of his erection against the lean plane of his stomach, or try to keep it in the waistband of his pants.
It was a futile, beautiful struggle. A faint sheen of perspiration had highlighted his forehead, and every time he leaned in to whisper a thank you, his breath was hot and unsteady. When he spoke with you, his eyes were alert, fervent, and his breath carried the scent of mint and sweet juice. He was coming apart at the seams.
Last night had been his first time. The loss of his innocence. A decision arrived at with trembling anticipation. Three whole years of held hands, of kisses that never deepened, of him whispering, "Let's do it when it’s perfect, baby. When it’s right.”
He’d finally decided it was right. “I love you,” he’d breathed into the darkness, his body taut above you. “I know I’m going to marry you—so why should I wait any longer?”
It had been a burst of frantic, bewildered sensation, over almost before it began, leaving him curled around you afterwards, whispering “thank you” over and over like a sacred vow into your skin.
You’d thought it a one-time gift, at least for a while, while he grappled with the guilt of stepping outside the bounds of his religious past.
The limo purred to a stop on the familiar Hayvenhurst driveway. He was out before the engine died, opening your door with a hand that trembled violently.
“Night, Mike. I’ll pick you up again tomorrow morning at nine sharp—you’ve got that radio show interview–” Bill called after him.
Michael wasn’t listening. He didn’t even take your hand up the path like he usually did.
He walked ahead, as if on a warpath, his posture rigid, his stride a careful, stiff thing meant to disguise the persistent, telling bulge in his trousers.
The house was a sleeping giant. You both climbed the grand staircase at speed. You struggled slightly in your heels, your long silk dress pooling at your feet. He led you away from the guest room you used to frequent, down a quieter hall lined with framed gold records and awkward school portraits. He stopped at a familiar door and pushed it open.
His childhood bedroom.
It was a sanctuary of preserved innocence. A smaller double bed with a faded blue comforter.
Shelves bowed under the weight of countless Disney figurines: Cinderella’s castle, a parade of Seven Dwarfs, a lonely-looking Dumbo. A mobile of the solar system, coated in a fine layer of dust, hung motionless from the ceiling. The air was a blend of old paper, the faint sweet smell of vinyl, and the crisp, clean scent that was uniquely, essentially him.
You smiled as you took it in; it looked exactly as you remembered from when you first started dating. He had insisted you both use the guest room because he didn’t want to face moving any of his memorabilia. It just so happened his childhood bedroom was furthest from his family, his parents in the opposite wing, Randy down the stairs and Janet three doors down.
He went to the bed and sat down, his back to you. With a concentration that was borderline funny, he bent and began untying the laces of his polished dress shoes.
The act was so simple, so boyish; a child in his refuge, shedding the costume of the outside world, that it made your heart ache.
In public, he was poised, adult, a persona he wore like a tailored suit. But here, he was the boy who believed in magic, who trusted too easily, whose curiosity was your favorite thing, the way he’d absorb everything about a subject, a time period, a movie, just as he did with music.
You stood by his old wooden desk, your fingers brushing the cool plastic of a model rocket. A ceramic figurine of Bambi watched with wide, glassy eyes.
“I saw it all night,” you said, your voice a soft intrusion in the quiet.
His hands froze on the second lace. He didn’t turn. “Saw what?”
“How hard you were. During the speeches. While you were eating. You kept trying to hide it, but you couldn’t. It was all I could think about.”
A visible tremor ran through him. He straightened slowly, but kept his back to you, head bowed as if in prayer. “It wouldn’t go away,” he confessed, his voice thick. “My body… it wouldn’t listen to me. The more I remembered last night, the harder it got. It was getting… painful.”
“I noticed your frustration,” you whispered, taking a step closer. The floorboard sighed beneath your weight. “And it made me wet. Drenched. Every time you adjusted yourself, every time you got that look in your eye… I could feel myself getting slick for you.”
He turned then.
His face was flushed, his beautiful lips parted. The need in his eyes had taken over; the shyness was a thin veneer over a bedrock of hunger.
“Wet?” he breathed, as if deciphering a complex lyric. His gaze dropped to the front of your gown. “Tell me what that’s like.”
You closed the final distance.
You took his right hand and lifted it. You placed his palm firmly against the damp silk covering your mound.
He gasped—a sharp, startled sound.
“Feel,” you instructed, your voice low.
His fingers trembled against you. You guided his hand down, under the heavy fabric of your gown, past the delicate lace of your stockings, until his cool fingertips met the soaked, feverish silk of your panties.
A choked, ragged sound escaped him.
“I can make you feel this way?” he stammered, his voice full of awe. “So warm… so… wet…”
“That’s for you,” you said, holding his wrist, making him feel the undeniable truth. “All night. That’s what the thought of you did to me.”
He was shaking now.
You hooked your fingers into the lace at your hip, drawing the fabric aside. Then you guided two of his long, elegant fingers inside of you. He was good with his hands; he had a rhythm like no other, skilled and precise. It was ironic that he knew how to play instruments so well, and now you wanted him to learn to play your body like one.
He went perfectly still. His eyes widened, the dark pools swallowing the light from the nightlight.
He was still feeling the intimate, velvet clutch of your body.
“Ohh…,” he whimpered, the sound pulled from his soul.
“Curve them,” you breathed, your own composure fraying. “Like you’re reaching for something.”
He obeyed; a slow, deliberate flexion. The pad of his middle finger found a spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids. A low, throaty moan tore from you.
“Mmmhh—!”
The sound shattered his last restraint. A deep, guttural groan echoed in his chest. He began to move his fingers, it wasn’t really with skill, just a frantic curiosity. In and out, curling, exploring. The tops of his fingers were softly pressing against your G-spot.
He watched your face, utterly captivated, as his hand worked beneath your gown, his expression one of rapt, hungry devotion.
“This… this tight, soft, warm feeling… is what I was thinking about at dinner,” he panted, his breath coming fast. “This is what I wanted… right there and then, but couldn’t have.”
He withdrew his fingers, staring at the glistening evidence. Driven by an instinct deeper than reason, he brought them to his lips and… tasted.
His eyes fluttered closed.
“Y’taste so good,” he mumbled, his voice thick and sweet. “You taste like heaven.”
He pulled his fingers from his mouth with a soft, slick pop. The look he gave you then was one of pure, pussy-drunk awe. The shy boy was submerged, replaced by a devoted lover.
“I need to feel you,” he said, the words rushing out. “I need to be surrounded by you. I need to have all of you.”
He fumbled with the buttons of his sparkly silver shirt and yanked off his bow tie, his usual grace abandoned. He shed it, let it fall onto a stack of comic books. The black trousers were shoved down, kicked away. He stood before you, naked in a room crowded with childhood dreams, fully, magnificently erect. You inwardly rolled your eyes at the fact he hadn’t worn briefs to the ceremony.
The juxtaposition in front of you, though, was devastatingly intimate. Him stood in this room, bearing himself, when a month prior he still struggled to get dressed in front of you.
He didn’t ask before diving in at you.
He gathered you in his strong, lean arms and laid you back on the blue comforter, pushing the skirts of your gown up to your waist, not even bothering to undress you fully because his need was too crazed, too immediate.
He settled between your thighs, his cock; thick, proud, flushed with wanting—pressing against your dripping heat. He looked down, his expression one of solemn, hungry wonder.
“I love you,” he whispered, but it sounded like a truth that made all this not only permissible, but necessary.
“I need to feel this. Every part of it. I didn’t feel you fall apart last night. It was too fast. This time… I want to feel you come apart around me. I want to be inside you when you lose yourself.”
He pushed in.
It was a slow, inexorable claiming that made the breath hitch in his throat. He sank to his base, a long sigh escaping him. He was so deep it felt like he was pressing on your heart.
“Perfect,” he breathed, his eyes closing. “You are… so good, laying there all pretty for me.”
He began to move, a deep, rolling rhythm that was less about thrusting and more about communion.
“You take me so completely… like you were made for me…”
But then his movements changed. His hands, which had been braced gently beside your head, slid down to your thighs. His touch, usually so tentative, became firm, purposeful.
He pushed your legs apart wider, then hooked them, bending them sharply to the side, opening you to him utterly. The new angle was deeper, more exposing. A soft cry left your lips.
“Yes,” he murmured, his voice taking on a darker, more resonant timbre. “Like this. I need to feel all of you like this.”
He began to move again, and this time, there was a new roughness to his rhythm. It wasn’t violent, but it was relentless, deeply possessive. Each stroke was a full, powerful drive, his hips meeting yours with a solid, wet slap-slap-slap that filled the quiet room. The bedframe began a steady, rhythmic protest against the wall.
He was lost in it. His eyes were open, watching your face, but they were glazed, seeing only the sensation.
“You’re so beautiful like this, how have i gone so long without this sight?,” he groaned, his words coming between panting breaths.
“Surrendered to me. Letting me feel you. You’re my good girl, right?”
His dirty talk wasn’t crude; it was sensual, almost poetic, ripped from the core of his overwhelmed being.
He drove into you, harder, his control slipping into something more primal. It became messy, clumsy—the way he gripped your thighs, the way he shoved into you—the want of his release overtaking his rationale.
You knew there’d be bruises where he held you tomorrow.
He pulled out briefly, flipped both your legs to his right, then entered you with your legs together—the sensation for him even more distinct, squeezing his cock even tighter.
His hands were on your sides now as he drilled into you. He leaned over as he pounded, his face so close to yours.
You couldn’t look away, totally entranced by the primal look in his eyes. He’d been taken over by the sensation, totally overthrown.
“I want to drown in you… I want this feeling…” He thrust fast and deep now, as if he was fucking the sensual words into you. “Forever, let me have it forever—God—”
You could feel your climax coming in, a slow, tectonic pressure from the deep, relentless pounding. You moaned loudly, your fingers tangling in the blanket.
“Ah—ah—!”
“I feel it,” he gasped, his rhythm becoming more urgent, though no less deep. “I want to make you feel good… I want to see the pleasure blown out in your eyes.” He was muttering now between gasps of pleasure.
“I’m going to write about how filthy and utterly ethereal you look in this moment,” he moaned, cupping your breasts with his hands.
His words; the romantic filth of them, spoken in that breathy, wrecked tenor were your undoing.
Your orgasm erupted, a deep, feeling within you; your whole body convulsed mercillisly.
You clenched around him in rhythmicly, uncontrollably.
A broken cry was torn from your throat—“Michael—!”
you could feel how wet you had become from your orgasm, and by the slick, slapping sound of his slow, deep thrusting, it was driving him wild.
He cried out with you, a sound of pure, triumphant awe.
“Yes! that’s my girl. I have waited so long to see you so dirty like this, to see your face in agonizing heat…”
But he didn’t stop after your come down.
He couldn’t.
The feeling of your climax around him seemed to fuel a deeper, more desperate hunger.
His thrusts became harder, faster, losing their measured pace, becoming a frantic, driving rhythm. The bed shook. A figurine of Mickey Mouse toppled from the shelf with a soft clatter.
“I can’t… I can’t stop,” he sobbed, his voice breaking. He was fucking you now with a pure, unadulterated need, the romantic poet consumed by the primal animal. “It’s too good… you’re too good… I need more… I need to be deeper…”
He was overstimulated, lost, chasing a feeling that kept escalating. He hooked your legs higher, over his shoulders, bending you nearly in half, and plunged into you with a force that stole the air from your lungs. His words dissolved into a litany of your name, interspersed with gasped, sensual fragments.
His eyes roamed frantically, but then settled on the sight of his own motion, biting his lip as he watched the remnants of your undoing pool at the base of his cock.
“My heart… is in your skin… your taste is in my mouth…” he moaned, breathlessly inbetween pumps.
He flipped you over with ease, onto your stomach. You had a brief moment to prepare yourself before he settled over you, pressing you into the mattress, and drove back into your from behind.
“You’re mine, all mine, this is just for me, always—”
His own end took him by storm.
His body locked, every muscle straining. A raw, ragged shout was torn from him—“Fuuuu--GOD-- Y/N–” a sound that held no artifice, only pure, shattering release.
You felt his hot seed, pulsing into you, flooding deep within, a claiming that felt endless.
He trembled violently through it, his hips jerking with involuntary aftershocks, still buried to the hilt.
When the last tremor passed, he collapsed forward, but caught himself on his elbows, still sheathed inside you. He was panting, sweat dripping from his nose and afro onto your back. He looked down at you as you glanced back, his eyes wide, dazed, full of a wonder that bordered on fear. You both just started grinning at each other crazily.
“I think I got carried away,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and ruined. “In you. I completely… got lost.”
"mhmm," you noted back, "ya think?"
He slowly, carefully, withdrew, and rolled to the side, pulling you instantly against him. His arms wrapped around you, tight, possessive. His heart hammered against your back.
He was silent for a long time, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your stomach.
“I don’t know how I held off for so long,” he murmured finally, his lips against your shoulder blade.
The scent of sex; musky, sweet, and profoundly intimate hung thick in the air of Michael’s old bedroom, a new perfume overlaying the old smell of books and toys.
Minutes bled by, measured only in the gradual slowing of breath. You felt spent, hollowed out and filled up, drifting away on the aftershocks.
Then, a shift in the energy beside you.
He lowered his arm.
In the soft gloom of the late evening, you saw his profile. His eyes were open, staring at the dusty mobile of the solar system behind your head. His lips, swollen and damp, parted. He looked so young like this, but he was grown now. The change you felt in him, even in the last few days was ludicrous. You fondly remembered how Michael would struggle to even hold your hand longer than 30 seconds, or he’d start madly blushing.
"Can I…" he started, his voice a ruined, raspy thing.
He stopped, swallowed and then started again, the words tumbling out in a hushed, guilty rush.
"Can I put my mouth on you? Right now?"
The question hung in the air, inappropriate, vulnerable, filthy in its innocent hunger.
You turned your head on the pillow. "Michael… you just… you finished in me. It's… it's mixed."
He turned his head too.
His eyes found yours, and there was no shyness there, only a dark clarity.
"I don't care," he whispered, the declaration simple and absolute. "I want to taste you for real. I want to taste where I was. Please."
He didn't wait for a final answer. The "please" was a formality.
The decision was made.
He moved with a sudden, fluid grace that belied his exhaustion, sliding down your body like a man descending to an altar. He pushed your thighs apart with a firm insistence, his gaze locked on the glistening, spent evidence of your joining.
He hovered, his gaze fixed so intensely.
“So beautiful,” he breathed, the words barely a whisper, soaked in awe. “Like a rose that’s just… bloomed for me.”
His hands, which had been resting on your hips, slid inward. His touch was a little demanding, but still just as tender. His fingers came to rest on your outer lips, applying the gentlest pressure.
He began to part you.
It was a slow unveiling. The soft, swollen flesh, glistening with the combined evidence of your passion, yielded to his patient hands. He opened you like the pages of a cherished, secret book he was terrified to damage.
A soft, shuddering sigh escaped him. “Oh… wow.”
He was looking at the heart of you, fully exposed to him in the dim light. The intimate, intricate folds, flushed a deep, needy pink, the glimmering wetness that coated everything, the tight, hidden entrance that still pulsed gently from his recent possession.
"Look at you,” he murmured, his voice sounding almost deliriously drunk with pleasure.
“All pretty and pink and wet for me. Just for me.” He leaned closer, his nose almost touching you, inhaling deeply. The sound he made was one of a man tasting water in a desert; a low, guttural groan of pure, starving need.
"Oh, God…" he mumbled, his voice muffled against your flesh. "S'sweet… and salty…"
He was lost instantly. Any hesitation, any remnant of fastidiousness, was incinerated by the addictive, complex flavor. He ate at you with starving intensity. His tongue was blunt and demanding, lapping up every trace, diving deep to clean his own release from inside you with thick, curling strokes.
The sounds were obscenely wet, sloppy, loud in the quiet room. He moaned continuously, a low, pleasured hum that you felt in your bones.
You writhed, oversensitive, a confusing mix of shock and overwhelming arousal knotting in your belly. "Michael… ah! Too… im so sensitive…"
He lifted his head, his chin dripping. His eyes were black pools of delerium. "No," he breathed, the word a gentle command. "I haven’t had enough. Sit on my face."
It was a desperate, worshipful plea.
He lay back flat, his hands coming to your hips, guiding you, pulling you up and over him. You braced your hands on the headboard, above his scattered pillows and plush toys, and lowered yourself, trembling, onto the waiting heat of his mouth.
Your world and everything in it, narrowed to sensation.
His mouth was a godsend; it was devoted hunger. As you settled your weight onto him, he let out a choked, blissful sound underneath you and his arms wrapped around your thighs, locking you in place.
There was no escape, and in seconds, you didn't want any.
He feasted. His tongue speared into you, fucking into the tender, well-used channel with a rhythm that was all his own. He alternated between deep, penetrating licks and frantic, fluttering sucks on your clit, his nose buried against you, breathing you in like oxygen. His hips began to move in tiny, abortive thrusts against the empty air, the blanket beneath him.
You were in disbelief at what had gotten into him – the boy you once knew had well and truly been replaced by a man. A handsome, steadfast partner, who clearly didn’t have any thoughts of leaving you for anyone else; even in his fame.
You looked down at him from where you were perched over his face. And the sight… unwound you completely.
His eyes were squeezed shut in ecstasy, his beautiful face a mask of utter surrender.
Your eyes roamed away, and then you saw against his stomach, his cock was already fully, achingly hard again, thick and flushed and leaking a fresh pearl of pre-come onto the skin just below his belly button.
The sheer, wanton need of it and the fact that tasting you, servicing you, had him rock-hard and throbbing in seconds sent a violent, possessive thrill through you.
The power dynamic shifted on a dizzying axis.
You rose off his mouth, ignoring his grunt of protest. You moved backwards, straddling his hips instead of his face. His eyes flew open, confused, desperate.
"Wha—?"
You didn't let him finish. You wanted to show him that other positions were just as good. You remembered something you’d read, a way to take control…
You reached between your legs, took his hard, slick cock in your hand, and guided it to your entrance, still wet and open from his mouth and his seed.
You sank down onto him slowly, sheathing him completely inside your sore, sensitive heat.
A dual cry tore through the room—his a sharp, shattered gasp of "God Damn–!", yours a long, low moan of exquisite, overwhelming fullness.
For a second, you both froze, impaled, connected.
You saw the shock in his eyes, then the dawning, wild comprehension. You were in control. You were taking what you needed from him.
Then you began to move.
You rode him slowly at first, a deep, rolling grind, using the muscles inside you to clench his length.
His head fell back, a string of broken, sensual praises falling from his lips.
"Yess… ride me… use me… you feel so good taking your pleasure from me… only me baby"
But Michael was not a passive lover. He was jealous, stubborn and petty at times and this had to manifest in your sex life too.
The submission was a feint, a precursor to a different kind of power.
His hands, which had been gripping the sheets, flew to your hips. His grip was iron, his long fingers digging into your flesh. The gentle, curious boy was gone. In his place was a man consumed, only you on his mind and in his sightline.
"Harder," he growled, his voice darker than usual.
He thrust his hips up to meet your downward stroke, a sharp, punishing impact that stole your breath.
" harder. Take what you want. Use me."
He began to dictate the rhythm from below. He bucked his hips, meeting each of your descents with a powerful, upward drive, controlling the depth, the angle, the force. He was fucking himself into you from the bottom, his strength surprising, his need an inferno.
"Yes! Like that!" he chanted, his eyes blazing up at you, watching your breasts bounce, your face contort in pleasure.
"Good. keep going. I wanna feel you tighten around me again whilst you come for me"
His physical domination from beneath you was the spark that lit the fuse.
You cried out, your rhythm breaking into frantic, shallow bounces as the orgasm ripped through you, violently, your nerve endings completely shattered from what was going on.
He felt it. He saw it. And it unleashed the final, raw animal in him.
With a roar that was half-sob, half-triumph, he gripped your hips and lifted you off of him. In one violent, graceful motion, he flipped you onto your back and was surging over you before the cry could leave your throat. He slammed back into you to the hilt, hooking your legs over the crooks of his arms, folding you nearly in half.
"Mine," he said, the word a primal, guttural claim against your lips.
His rhythm was brutal, perfectly aimed despite his inexperience, a relentless, piston-drive fucking that had the bed slamming into the wall with a frantic, wooden THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD.
He was everywhere, his sweat dripping onto your chest, his groans hot in your ear, his hands gripping your legs like vices.
He was a beautiful, desperate machine, chasing his own end with fury, using your body to get there, giving you everything he had in the process.
"I think…m-gonna fill you up… again…" he panted, his rhythm fracturing into erratic, deep jabs.
"Mark you… inside and out… so you never forget… whose girl you are… Ah—! Ah, God—!"
His release was silent. His body locked, every muscle corded and straining. His mouth opened but nothing came out, his eyes wide and unseeing as he emptied himself into you in hot, pulsing jets, deeper than seemed possible.
He collapsed forward, but caught himself on trembling arms, still buried inside you, his forehead pressed to yours, his breath sobbing into your mouth.
Slowly, he softened and slipped out. He didn't roll away. He collapsed onto you, a dead weight of satiated obsession, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His arms slid under you, binding you to him completely.
His lips moved against your damp skin, the words slurred, thick with exhaustion and a profound, drunken awe.
“They are gonna have to lock me up in a padded room to stay away from you now”
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ off the wall, pre thriller michael .⊹ . ݁˖ .
i-summary: in the studio with michael (your established boyfriend) as he is recording the album thriller, plays the song which is dedicated to you. While the two of you dance along to the song, true desires come to the surface, despite nerves and time. . ݁₊
contains: fluff, smut, first time, established relationship, both michael and reader inexperienced, mature themes
fyi: guys i haven’t written a fanfic since the 2020 so please give me some grace! 🤍🎀
Giggling, the two of you rushed up the spiral stairs into Michael’s private recording studio. As you stepped inside, you caught the soft scent of his lingering cologne mixed with the faint rubber smell of the studio equipment.
Michael turned to you with a grin that silently hinted he had something planned. “I have something for you to listen to,” he said softly, guiding you toward the leather seat beside the sound table.
“Oh yeah?” you smiled, watching him sink down into his chair.
“I think you’re going to love it. It’s a song called The Lady in My Life.” His eyes sparkled the way they always did whenever he talked about music.
“So I’m guessing I’m that lady, right?” you teased, already knowing the answer deep down.
“Yes, girl, you’re that beautiful lady it’s about,” he grinned, biting his lip shyly.
“Okay, here we go.”
The music began to play, the soft sound of the keyboard filling the room. Hearing Michael’s gentle, angelic voice on the track made you slowly relax into the chair.
A soft smile spread across your face as the romantic lyrics poured through the speakers. Michael hummed quietly along to the song, studying your reaction with an almost nervous excitement.
As the beat dropped, your head began nodding along with his. He gently took your hand and pulled you up from the chair. Singing softly to you, his hands rested carefully on the small of your waist.
“And I will keep you warm through the shadows of the night, let me touch you with my love, I can make you feel alright…”
His warm breath brushed lightly against your face as he sang, the two of you swaying together in slow steps across the studio floor.
Your hands rested around his shoulders as you looked up at him through your lashes. Slowly, he slid his palms down to your hips, guiding you gently from side to side with the music.
He pulled you closer until your foreheads touched. “Oh, Michael, I just love you so much,” you whispered softly, your breath uneven.
“Baby, I love you even more,” he murmured, his fingertips lightly tracing up your back beneath the sleeve of your soft pink sweater.
The song continued looping in the background, making your heart sway right along with the music. But certain lyrics kept pulling at your thoughts — “lay back in my tenderness” and “let me fill you.” The song sounded less like performance and more like Michael quietly pouring his feelings into every word.
Swallowing nervously, you admitted, “It sounds like you want to touch me.”
A soft laugh escaped Michael’s lips, warm and low.
“I am touching you, mama,” he murmured, his dark eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your gaze again.
You shook your head slightly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Michael… I mean really touch me. Like you’re scared not to.”
For a moment, he said nothing.
But the look on his face spoke louder than words ever could.
There was hesitation there, yes—but underneath it lived something deeper. Affection. Want. The kind that had been building quietly between the two of you for far too long.
“I never knew if you were ready,” he admitted softly. “Truth is… I didn’t know if I was either.” His thumb brushed slowly against your waist. “But I think about you all the time. More than I probably should.”
The confession made your breath catch in your throat.
Instead of answering, you leaned forward and kissed him.
This kiss felt different from the others you’d shared before. It wasn’t playful teasing or shy laughter hidden behind smiles. It was slower. Closer. Like the two of you were finally saying the things your hearts had been holding back.
“I want you too,” you whispered against his lips. “I want more of this.”
Michael exhaled shakily, resting his forehead against yours for a brief second before kissing you again, gentler this time, but somehow even more intense.
The music continued spinning softly through the room, blending with the sound of uneven breathing and quiet laughter between kisses. Warmth spread through your chest as his hands remained steady at your waist, holding you like he was afraid you’d disappear.
Slowly, Michael pulled away just enough to look at you again, his expression softer now—almost overwhelmed.
Without breaking eye contact, he guided you toward the small leather couch tucked in the corner of the studio, his fingers still intertwined with yours as the city lights glowed dimly through the windows behind him.
He kisses you softly, testing the waters, before deepening the pressure. His hands slide down your waist, trembling slightly as he pushes up the hem of your shirt. You lift your arms, letting him strip it away, leaving your chest bare to the cool studio air.
Michael stares at you with worshipful eyes, lowering his head to press a kiss between your breasts. "You're beautiful,".
He lavishes attention on your breasts, sucking your nipples gently until they're stiff and wet, treating you like something precious. You whimper, threading fingers through his hair, overwhelmed by the sweetness. Slowly, Michael kisses down your stomach, fingers hooking into your sweatpants. You lift your hips automatically, letting him pull them and your panties down your legs.
Michael spreads your thighs gently, his breath ghosting over your bare core. He looks up at you, dark eyes warm. "Tell me if anything feels wrong." Then his lips press a soft kiss to your inner thigh, working his way closer to your center. When his tongue finally drags through your folds, you gasp and buck your hips involuntarily. "Oh— Michael—"
He laps at your entrance slowly, exploring your shape with gentle sucks and licks. When his tongue pushes inside, you cry out, gripping the sofa cushions. He makes a soft, approving noise, curling his tongue to hit a spot that makes your back arch.
Michael finds your clit and circles it with his tongue slowly, teasingly, building pleasure instead of demanding it. You're dripping, thighs shaking as he eats you out like a prayer, like he's discovered the most sacred thing in the world.
You pull his hair, whispering his name over and over, until the pressure snaps and you come against his mouth with a broken sob.
He kisses your thighs softly as you come down, cleaning you with gentle laps of his tongue before kissing his way back up your body.
You pull him into a messy, wet kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. Michael pushes his sweatpants down, his erection springing free. He lines himself up, pressing the tip against your slick entrance, his face hovering inches from yours.
“Is everything okay baby? i love you a lot and i don’t want to hurt you.” Michael spoke out while his tip slowly teased your folds. you could see the need on his face but also the concern he had for you.
“yes baby i’m good, just give me all of you baby-I want it all.” you spoke out confidently eyeing him with sparkly eyes as you bit your lip.
Michael slowly inched inside of you, he studied your face for any pain as well pleasure. you both let out a sigh, yours more like a sob and his replicating a moan. “Is that good baby, are you okay?” he spoke against your cheek before landing soft pecks upon it waiting for a response.
“yes Michael— i… you.. you’re so big” you cried out in disbelief of the shocking wave of pain mixed with pleasure hit against your nerves. “just go slow.”
you pressed your fingertips into his shoulder blades as he moves his hips forward and back. letting out a slight moan his eyes flickered to you in concern.
before he could say anything you just nodded up and down to signal that you were okay. You could feel him twitching inside of you. His heat against your skin. The soft and slow sounds of skin meshing together filled the room. The wetness almost being an adlib to the repeating song.
“Oh my god baby, you feel so good” he mumbled, head falling into your neck. Your digits ran through his curls as the two of you rocked passionately. you repeatedly moaned out his name, clawing at different parts of him and the couch to tame yourself.
Michael pulled away from your neck his muffled moans now being exhaled right into your mouth. you kissed sloppily, the both of you lost in pleasure and love. “mm baby i love you, i love this” you cried against his lips.
“i love you too baby, filling you with all my love. you deserve it mama” the sweet words didn’t help the aching warmth you felt in your stomach. a broken moan let out, instead of words because the pleasure was too much to bear.
the meshing sound of skin turned into slapping sounds now, as michael lifted both of your legs on his shoulders. The angle was so devastating, your back arched and head pressed back against the couch.
“Baby i.. i feel like i’m” you could barely let the words out. Michael’s doe eyes preying on you in pleasure mixed with his furrowed eyebrows could only make the pleasure more intense.
“Where do you feel it at? tell me sweet heart.” Michael groaned out while he continued to pound into you gracefully.
with your eyes rolling back the only thing that could be said was “my stomach… i— oh my goodness”. The pleasure flushed over you all at once.
“Give it to me girl, I want to feel you come undone.” michael said desperately, his thrusts becoming less structured. As you moaned out his name, you came and he leaned down to hold you.
“That’s my baby, I love you so much mama.”
he moaned out, face reverting back to your neck and his palms slowly ran up under you holding your backside.
You couldn’t even speak, mind clouded with pleasure as he continued to pound into you more softly. You could tell he was holding back just for you.
Your hand glided back through his curls as you whispered in his ears. “I love you too michael. I want you to let go for me, give it all to me my love” you encouraged him.
Overwhelming pleasure crowded you both and you felt his warmth quickly leave you along with his embrace. You moaned as he exited your wetness.
“oh fuck, baby… shit” he swore as he held his member in his hand that let out plenty strings of his milky white pleasure onto your stomach. He softly laid back on top of you despite the mess.
His face nuzzled into your neck—again. You rubbed his back all the way up to his shoulders. The two of you laid there with the song still playing.
“That was so perfect baby.” you mumbled staring at the ceiling while rubbing the back of his neck. “It was amazing, i love you so much sweetheart. I’ve wanted this for so long we just never had the chance.” Michael said softly against your skin.
“I didn’t know THE michael jackson was so sexual” you teased. Michael chuckled as he slowly lifted away from your neck coming back to those addicting lips.
“Well i didn’t know you’d take me so well” he said biting his lips while grinning. Instead of saying anything you just kissed him laughing. The kiss was relaxing and soft, although the two of you couldn’t stop giggling.
Suddenly there was loud knocking on the studio door. The both of you shot up quickly, picking up your clothes. Michael used the inside of his shirt to clean the two of you up.
“Hey Mike, Mother says come on back in the house! It’s getting late, and you have to take Y/N home!” his older brother, Jermaine shouted.
“Okay Coming!” Micheal shouted back as the two of you quickly scrambled to put on your clothes while still laughing.
Michael finally turned off the studio equipment. With the song no longer filling your ears and micheal filling your wetness, you felt calm, but happy. Very happy.
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