x𝒂𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒚𝒂𝒉x

i'm 18 black 🌸 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒋

[luvvshelly]

Starry eyed

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟏𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 𝒙 𝒑𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒎𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒑 𝒇𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 " 𝒊𝒕 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍" 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 𝑱𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎 𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒚

Tags: kissing towards the ending , Michael inviting you on stage with him while he perform the way you make me feel, touchy, the fem reader is shorter than Michael, the reader is Ashanti and Aaliyah codded the use of " mama", " doll", and "pretty thing" is use so if your not comfortable you can go with love

Note I hope y'all like this the masterlist will come soon if you want some more the request is always open, I hope y'all enjoy this all the fem.readers that I am writing are poc coded but mostly blk fem reader you can imagine your own face but my face claim is between taylor Russell or Trina mcgee

Wc 3.4k

This is part 1 if you want part two let me know right now my brain is on haywire 😭 but I'll definitely make a part two you just gotta let me know if y'all want smut or no smut

𝑨𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝟑𝟏, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟏 𝒊𝒏 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒀𝒐𝒓𝒌

Your day had been really busy from interviews, to photoshoots, to the studio, you finally got a break. It was a beautiful life to be famous to have your fans, you really appreciate it you worked hard to be here, and God had given you a gift to show the world

But it was a brutal one too, so brutal you wanted to quit sometimes but you weren't raised to give up so easily

Being Hollywood's "it girl", the shimmering fantasy every man in the room thought he could but or borrow the night with you. Some of the biggest names in the industry from movie directors, producers, musicians with the diamond smiles and false promises

Many Had tried to claim a piece of you they wanted a touch, a taste, a bragging whisper over champagne and slik sheets, but you weren't that easy people lied on your name since you first started out into the industry. Many male artists claimed you were some, timid, easy, pure thing, but you knew better than people and the tabloids think

You were sitting in your apartment just got from a photoshoot makeup smudged there was a envelope on the ground Infront your front door you walked to it curious you looked at looked at it and picked it up your manicure nails run over the "m" signature stamp, you tore it and open it, reading it

𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒚/𝒏 𝒍/𝒏

𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝑰 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒏

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒗𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎 𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝟑𝟎ᴛʜ 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒂 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒑𝒂𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒍

𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝐱𝐱𝐱-𝐱𝐱𝐱-𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐱

𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧

To say you were shocked this man thee Michael Jackson wanted you to perform Infront of him and Infront of a thousand people you didn't know what to say after all Michael has been your idol since you were young even though your about almost same age as him but still

So you grabbed your Samsung E 330 and dialed his number the phone ring for a bit you waited nervously and anxious usually your confident and know what you want but this is Michael Jackson we're talking about, finally he picks up and it's like the world went slow the soft spoken voice that had the little rasp to it

Hello?" You hear him said but you were frozen that chuckle that he let out put butterflies into your stomach

Uh hello?" He said again this time teasingly but soft you finally snapped out of it your curls move as your shake your head trying to focus

Oh hello is this Michael? " You said and wanted to immediately slap yourself cause that sounded cringe but he chuckles anyway " who else would it be doll?" he said and your knees almost buck you giggles nervously

Sorry I'm a bit nervous but I uh wanted to tell you that yes I would love to perform it'll be my honor Mr Jackson " she said softly her heart flutter she was flustered as she slumped on the couch with the phone to her ear

Oh please just call me Michael, pretty girl and I'll get you a a flight here in California" Michael said his voice was smooth and velvet and so soft spoken with a hint of rasp to it you nodded even though he can't see you

Okay thank you Michael for this opportunity I appreciate it" you said softly you wanted to faint right than and there something about him made you feel some type of way that no man can

Of course oh and sorry for the unexpected letter I asked your friend I hope your not mad" he said softly she melted she felt the genuine in his voice

It's okay Michael don't need to apologize " you said softly they both said by and you hang up before squealing happily you was so excited and so overjoyed and a bit flustered

You calm your beating heart softly

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

𝑺𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝟏 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟏 𝒊𝒏 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒂

You just arrived in California in something comfortable your curls out softly and your shades on you walk down from the private jet to the car it brought you to the suit Michael got you, you look around breathless when you got in

You have to start rehearsal you were performing one of your hit songs for Michael and they told you at the last minute you'll be performing with him.yoi were shocked to say the least since you'll be performing " the way you make me feel" with him

Your manager was handling your schedule as you were in the suit relaxing on the bed watching a movie until your manager bust in all happy and panting you looked at her shocked

What's wrong with you " you said in shock as your manager pant and pace " guess who I got off the phone with" your manager said

Who? " You asked curiously now your manager was a no nonsense women so to have her this hype up to were she looks like she is hyperventilating

@khxna @cinnamoncunt @wazabii @nyctogeny @a-motherfcking-fish

[luvvshelly]

As a black women actual BLACK it's not surprising seeing white women claiming to be black like no shade to the none racist white girls and women but even so why would you a Michael fan pretend to be black and have your user "ebony" and then say because you have dark hair and the use aave on every fanfic on your Michael fanfic is weird to me that's like if a black women or Asian women claim to be any race and than act surprised when they get exposed....like that is not an okay thing to do and than the people are defending that women y'all are weird as well y'all got to comfortable in this fandom and I'm not gonna sit here and say to leave cause I'm not that type of person but us black women been through it

[urbanfunkchild]

Hi babe. So I need a breeding kink fic when reader is looking so delicious he can’t resist.

Cuz this man literally has Leo venus ans taurus mars!!! It’s just HAS to be truthful

ohhhh ur so good for requestin this

.✦── achin' for you

wc: 2.5k

̩͙ ⠳⠀⠀ .⠀⏜ pairing: dangerous era!michael x fem! reader ̩͙

tags: smut, breeding kink, creampie, body worship, emotional smut, ovulation kink, mike is down BAD - trust, overly horny mike,

A/N: this was written in like 2 hrs in a Starbucks the tense is all over the joint so … be gentle w me

18+ mdni... or ill getcha

the tour bus sways slightly as the driver merges across the highway lanes. the tinny sound of the metal hauling over asphalt was a strange but soothing sound.

miles of dark highway blurred past the windows; swallowing the roar of the stadium crowd still ringing in your bones. the air on the bus was close and smelled of stale coffee, leather, a faint hint of hairspray.

you stood dripping and furious in the narrow corridor, a sodden puddle forming around your bare feet on the plush carpet, the air conditioning raising goosebumps on your skin.

“no towels,” you seethe to the empty lounge, your voice tight, “not a single goddamn towel in this whole billion-dollar bus,” and you stomp, barefoot and naked, past the kitchenette, past the bank of TVs showing silent security feeds, your hair still dripping, painting cold tracks down your spine with every furious stride. you hoped michael could hear you.

he’s could hear you, of course.

he lay propped against a mountain of pillows on the massive bed that took up the entire rear wall, a hardcover book open in his lap.

but his eyes aren’t on the page, they’re tracking you, a slow liquid sweep from your damp scowling face, down the sheen on your collarbones, over the curve of your breasts, the dip of your stomach, the swell of your hips, as you march to the dresser bolted to the wall.

“unbelievable,” you mutter, yanking a drawer open, the sound loud and violent in the quiet, rummaging around in the top drawer. your pyjamas were off with the laundry department that were on hire for the dangerous tour so you had to make do with michael’s long black band t-shirts. 

“i feel gross, puffy, my body’s just holding onto everything this week, i’m up three pounds from yesterday... my jeans are tight in the wrong places, everything feels swollen and sore and wrong,” you keep rummaging, seething about the fact your cycle has you ovulating… it was a curse - you were horny but… pudgy as your hormones fluctuated.

you shook out an old AC/DC shirt-with no holes, because heaven knows you were always finding old sentimental shirts with gaping gaps in em- and in the turning, caught your reflection in the mirror. The frown was already there, deep and worn

“look,” you whined, “it’s like my body’s betraying me,” and you slap a hand against your outer thigh, the sound a sharp, satisfying smack in the quiet. “ugh ive gotten so soft”

that’s when he speaks, his voice a low warm rumble that seems to vibrate through the floor and up into the soles of your feet. he hasn’t spoken in a bit.

“i like it.”

you freeze, the shirt halfway over your head, pull it back down, and turn to look at him. he’s closed the book, set it aside. his gaze is unwavering, dark as the night outside the window, utterly focused. his hair is natural, down and soft looking. he’d showered directly after the show, so it had gone a little fuzzy.

he looked sweet sitting there - a goofy tshirt from Disney world that he’d worn the print so bad with washes, that the cartoon looked deformed. the tshirt was bundled up on his stomach, showing a dark wiry happy trail that led down into some plaid boxer shorts. 

you drunk him in, how pretty he looked without his makeup, and the cute little splodges of pigment on his legs. he was so endearing, but hot at the same time, you kinda just wanted to —

“wait what?”

you had totally lost your train of thought whilst looking at him. and he knew it.

“i like seein’ you a little fuller,” he says, simple as stating the time, his eyes drifting back to your thighs,

“specially there. when i’m between your legs, with my mouth on you… i can really feel them then.” he smirked at you, his eyes dancing with mirth. he was teasin’ cause he knew you were horny.

“they press against my ears, my cheeks. they cradle me in. it’s like… the whole world is just your taste and the softness of your thighs. i love that feelin’.”

he says it all so matter-of-factly, so honestly, that the anger seeps out of you, replaced by a slow creeping heat spreading low in your belly. you smirk, a deflection. 

“you’re so full of it, mike. you’d say anything to get laid.”

he swings his legs off the bed, pads over to you on silent feet, “no, no i mean it. i see you gettin’ frustrated with yourself. but to me… you look healthy. strong. your skin’s got this warmth to it.” his hands come up, resting lightly on your hips through the soft cotton of the shirt, his thumbs finding the new gentle curve of your lower belly,

“it’s not just weight. it’s your body workin’. doin’ what it’s meant to. Protectin’ you. it makes you softer right here,” he murmurs, pressing gently against your lower tummy, “it’s mother nature. I’ve read about it.”

you roll your eyes but the heat in your belly is a traitorous spreading warmth, a direct counterpoint to the frustration knotting your shoulders, 

“you’re just sayin’ that. we’ve been eating trash food and I’ve been having one too many cocktails with the crew at the after parties. that’s why i’m bloated and irritable and down on myself“

you brought your arms up to rest around his neck. “you’re just trying to make moves because you know my cycle and know I’m ovulatin’” your mouth quivers into a sly smile.

“I see you looking in my diary mike”

the moment the word leaves your lips—ovulatin’—his entire demeanor shifts, subtle but profound, the sleepy appreciative warmth in his eyes sharpening into a focused, almost crazed intensity, his pupils dilating, the hands on your hips stilling then flexing, his fingertips pressing in just a fraction more, as if he can feel the truth of it under his palms.

he doesn’t bother to laugh the accusation off. he just looks at you, his dark eyes serious, almost shy in that terrifyingly focused way. he closed the last bit of distance, his body heat a wall against the bus’s chill,

“its jus ‘cause i love you,” he says, his voice dropping even lower, becoming hushed, “i can tell without the diary. you’ve got a… a glow about you this week. a warmth. i’ve been noticin’ it.”

“you’re such a darling thing when you’re hormonal, you’re little frustrated faces,” he continues, teasing. his voice is low though, almost a mumble.

hes clearly nervous. he’s correcting your assumption that he’s only noticing because he wants sex, his gaze dropping to his thumbs tracing the shape of you,

“i think about it — i mean… when you’re like this… a little softer. it means your body is… ready. And it makes you hotter” he’s fumbling over his words.

“you think about me bein’ hormonal and puffy? Does that get you off?” you tease, but your voice has lost its edge, caught in the gravity of his stare.

he shakes his head in aggreeance, finally looking up at you, a flush creeping up his neck but it isn’t from just embarrassment now, it’s from a building raw tenderness, “i think about you bein’… ready for me. your body knowin’ exactly what it wants. what it’s meant for.” his grip tightens, pulling you a half-inch closer, “it’s all i’ve been able to think about today.”

“tell me more.” you whisper

he ducks his head, his forehead touching your shoulder, his words a warm secret murmur against your skin, “i imagine you. full with my child. for real. your hips would get a lil wider, to make room. you’d be so heavy with it. all round and soft. beautiful, and your breasts…” he trails off, his breath catching, “they’d be full, too. achin’ sometimes… y’know. from the milk. and i’d want to ease the ache for you, suckle on em and make you feel good.”

the image is so stark, so visceral, it steals the air from your lungs.

“you’re out of your mind,” you breathe, deflecting but you’re arching into his touch, the frustration melting under a wave of sheer wanton need.

he reaches around with both hands, his palms broad and warm, and takes a firm, deliberate hold of your backside, his fingers sinking into the soft, full flesh through the worn cotton of the t-shirt. he squeezes gently, kneading, pulling you a fraction closer against him until you can feel the hard line of his arousal pressed against your stomach.

“i know,” he whispers back, his voice a low, rough vibration against your lips as he finally lifts his head. all the earlier softness, the boyish shyness, is gone, completely stripped away. what remains is a look of pure, undiluted intent, his eyes so dark they seem to swallow the dim light of the bus.

“baby, we’ve waited,” he says, the words thick with a pent-up hunger you can feel in the tremor of his hands. 

“been so damn careful. pills, condoms, timin’… playin’ it safe like our lives depended on it.” he leans in, his forehead touching yours, his breath hot and shared. “tonight, i don’t wanna be careful. i don’t wanna hold back a single goddamn thing.”

his hands slide from your backside, smoothing up the curve of your spine, and find the hem of the shirt. his knuckles brush the bare skin of your waist, sending a lightning-bolt shiver through you. in one slow, deliberate motion, he begins to gather the soft black fabric in his fists, lifting it, exposing you inch by inch to the cool air and the heat of his gaze.

“let me fill you up” he breathes, the words a formality, “please. i need to feel you. all of you. i need to be close to you. right now.”

you nod, a tiny helpless motion, that’s all the permission he needs. because deep down you want it too.

you’d usually tell him, the words a breathless, unconvincing plea in the dark, “n-no, mike, pull out, please,” even as your thighs would clamp tight around his hips, your ankles locking at the small of his back, your whole body pulling him deeper, holding him in-every clutching movement screaming the exact, desperate opposite of the weak protest leaving your lips.

the last pretense of patience evaporates, he kisses you then, deep and slow. a sweet, thorough claiming of your mouth that has your knees buckling, he walks you backward until your legs hit the edge of the massive bed, he lays you down, following you, his body covering yours, all lean warm muscle and trembling urgency.

he pushes the t-shirt up and over your neck, his mouth leaving a searing trail down your throat after your bare for him. over your collarbone, and then lower, he takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, his tongue circling the peak until you cry out, your back bowing off the mattress.

“we’re always so lost in followin’ the rules,” he mutters against the damp skin of your sternum, his hands gripping the softness of your hips, holding you still, “but not tonight. I cant, not when you’re lookin so good like this.”

he moves down your body, his breath hot on your belly, his thumbs hooking in the hollow behind your knee bone to spread you open.

he doesn’t even bother teasing, he puts his mouth on you with a low grateful sound, his tongue laying a broad wet stripe over your clit before settling into a slow relentless rhythm, his nose pressed against you, his cheeks cushioned by the flesh of your thighs.

he loves you with his mouth, tender and thorough, until you’re shuddering, your heels digging into his back, until you’re whispering his name into the quiet of the bus that’s still driving, only when you’re clenching around nothing, your hips lifting off the bed in a silent plea, does he rise up.

he scrambles back on his knees, his movements suddenly frantic, boyish with eagerness. he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his plaid boxers and shoves them down in one hurried, graceless motion, kicking them off his ankles. he’s already hard, the heavy, flushed weight of him curving up against his stomach, the skin taut, patchy and gleaming in the low light. the sight of him, so desperately ready, so stripped of his usual controlled grace, makes a bubble of fond laughter threaten in your chest. you bite down hard on your lower lip to trap it, the pressure turning into a shaky, wanton smile instead.

he doesn’t even seem to notice, his entire world is you. the space space between your thighs. he moves over you, the broad, aching crown of him nudging insistently against your soaked entrance, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding still. a fine sheen of sweat gleamed on his temple. his breath sawed in and out of his chest.

"god, look at you," he choked out, his voice wrecked. "so ready. you're always lovely but tonight… tonight you're perfect."

he leaned forward and dropped his forehead against yours, his eyes squeezed shut, his hips giving a tiny, involuntary jerk against your clit that made you both gasp with pleasure.

“i need to put a baby in you so bad it's makin' me stupid."

you can’t speak, you instead just nod. your eyes are watering with the emotion of it all.

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your answer in the arch of your body.

a broken sound tears from his throat and he sinks into you, deep, one long devastating thrust that stretches you perfectly, hilting him completely, a punched-out gasp leaving your lips. he’s staring at you, his face strained with the angle but still so perfect.

his lips full and red, a vein on his forehead protruding with his concentration. you reach up and thumb his mouth, right over his perfect cupids bow.

“yes baby, I love you so m-much, you make me feel so good” you mutter over and over again and he’s saying it back, it’s perfect, your voices harmonising in the quiet space

he’s moving purposefully, each thrust lived in a little longer before he pulls out to drive back in, it’s tender in its absolute focus.

he moves with a deep rolling rhythm, his eyes locked on yours, fluttering shut every one and a while from pleasure. every push is a claim, every withdrawal a promise to return.

"gonna watch you change," he pants, the words hot and broken against your mouth, his forehead slick with sweat where it presses to yours. all you can taste is salt. 

"day by day. gonna feel it happen under my hands." his hips roll, crazily slow, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. "your skin gettin' tighter. your curves. all mine. you're gonna be so damn beautiful it'll ruin me.

after a few minutes of this slow claiming pace, he pulls out almost completely, his breath ragged, “turn over for me,” he murmurs, his hand guiding your hip, “on your side.”

you comply, curling onto your side, he slides in behind you, one arm hooking under your top knee, hiking your leg up high, the angle is obscenely deep, intimate, he can go no further, and he begins to move again, shorter sharper thrusts that rub a spot inside you that makes stars burst behind your eyelids, “Jesus,” he grunts, his lips against your shoulder blade, “you feelin’ okay baby?”

He continues to breathlessly talk to you in between thrusts; “m’so happy i have this with you, so safe, so right”

you can only moan in response, he picks up the pace and starts mercilessly rubbing your clit with his four fingers. but you can feel the tension start building in him, the way his breaths are becoming ragged and the uncoordination; he’s not going to last.

“i need you on top,” he gasps suddenly, stilling, “i need to see you. need to watch you take me.”

he helps you turn, guiding you to straddle his hips, you sink down onto him, a slow breathless descent, for a moment you just rock and grind there, your hands braced on his chest, setting the pace.

“s-shit that’s good” you mumble

he lets you keep your pace for a bit, his hands roaming over your stomach, your breasts, his eyes worshipful, “look at you,” he breathes, “takin’ me. so beautiful like this.”

‘you’re perfect, so utterly perf–”

but then his control frays, his hands come up to grip your waist, then slide around to clutch your back, pulling your torso down hard against his chest, he holds you there, locked to him, your breasts pressed against his sweat laced skin, your face buried in his neck,

“stay like that m’girl” he whispers, his voice strained, and he begins to thrust upward, fast and desperate, driving into you from below. the force of it drives the air from your lungs, you can’t move, can’t do anything but cling to him as he moves under you, his hips pistoning. you were dizzy from how good it felt, him reaching your g-spot over and over again, with ease.

this is what undoes him, the feel of you pinned, taking him, while he drives himself home, 

“’m close, baby, i’m so close,” he chants into your hair, his rhythm becoming erratic.

“let me…” he chokes on the pleasure slightly. “let me be on top for this,” he manages to grit out, “i need to… i need to see your face as i fill you up”

he rolls you both over in one fluid, desperate motion- a half-spin that leaves him on top again, never slipping out, his weight settling over you and his arms caging your head.

he’s breathing like a sprinter, his entire body taut, “i’m gonna finish inside you,” he pants, almost again shyly asking for permission. you nod and give a clipped “mhmm”

the vein in his temple throbs. “gonna give you all of me’,” he rasps, his voice scraped raw from the force of holding back. “every drop. you’re gonna take it. c’mon, baby. say you will. say it for me”

“shit–please,” you sob, your own climax building again, triggered by his desperation, “yes, michael– please.”

with a shattered cry he drives into you one final grinding time and holds, buried to the hilt, you feel him pulse, a hot rhythmic flooding deep inside you that seems to go on and on, 

“ah—god, ohhh, sweet je— mhmm…” he groans, totally nonsensically, his body convulsing with each release, you clench around him, milking him through your own climax, as he messily rubs your clit with his thumb. you think even his words were enough to put you over the edge this time.

he stayed there, softening inside you. he looked like incredulous. “oh my god, that felt incredible,”

he sighed again, eyes roaming all over your body and then stilled at where you were both joined. “m’gonna have to do that every time now til we make a baby”

“uh-huh. Im pretty sure thats how this whole thing works– you have to do it over and over” you giggle.

‘Mhmm m’not complainin’ baby”

slowly, he slips out of you, but he doesn’t roll away, he shifts down your body, his movements languid, possessive, he hooks his hands behind your knees, pushing your legs up and apart, opening you to the cool air of the bus—and to his gaze.

there, in the dim light, his release is already beginning to seep out, he watches it, his expression one of profound quiet awe, he presses a thumb gently against you, spreading you open a fraction further, a thicker trickle escapes and slides down.

“look at that,” he murmurs, his voice hushed and full of wonder,

“filled my baby up so nicely.” he leans down and places a soft lingering kiss low on your belly, then looks back up at you, his eyes shining,

“you’re gonna be incredible. carryin’ our child. your body’s meant for it. you’re gonna be so beautiful, all round and glowin’.”

he doesn’t say anything else, he just gathers you, pulls you against his chest, and wraps himself around you, one hand splayed low on your stomach.

his dream is no longer just in the air between you, it’s a warm claiming presence inside you, and his quiet steady breathing against your back is pure satisfied possession.

your stupid ass certainly ruins the moment.

"Uh, Mike—" you whined, the spell thoroughly broken. "I gotta pee and you're squishin' me."

he laughs heartily and rolls away from you.

“yeaaaah forgot about the whole ‘peein’ directly after thing’.”

He pauses and then feigns anger. “don’t be such a moany pants”

you rolled your eyes and got up.

“Mhm laugh and joke now, michael, you’ll know all about moanin’ when I’m 8 months pregnant and the size of a minivan with anger issues”

“I can handle you, sweet thang, don’t you worry”

fin.

want more? go back to masterlist

tags;

@sheerios32 @shaymariee @holyfujjj @joliebossanova123 @cinnamon-girl01 @dearsirenita @sgecat @alittletrampyvampy @orbitmyworld @mikesangelface @veraberaxx @misfloras @ieatorangess @misscowboyhat @auriuex @angelicneon @honeybunn88 @giovannamarie12 @iamsosexy2 @sabbiabbydabbywabbie @shinebrightstar @tic-tac-my-toes @apqlehead @laistrange @joliebossanova123 @blaiselaurent @michaelcomeback @bawdylanguageee @theasdfjklstuff @kottonkanditits @hollablkgrl @holyfujjj @vincrichc @thatprettyho @jurneeblogs @zanyana626 @michaeljacksonfanfictions @michaelsgirlie @loveposiie

[carrotlster]

THE UNSEEN BITS

caleb mcdaniel 𝑥 fem!reader

── 1.4k moments between you and caleb that took place in the background of other scenes or that producers cut out.

warnings fluff ༝ romance ༝ flirting ༝ banter ༝ second person pov ༝ no use of y/n though.

𝑚𝑑𝑛𝑖.

era’s thoughts now that caleb’s out of the villa, it’s my time to shine (just kidding) (i’m really not). also i have not proofread anything so bare with me. anyway, enjoy the read. reblogs are much appreciated !! <33

the air was crisp, carrying the clean scent of dew and the distant crash of the ocean waves beyond the villa walls. the group was crowded around the outdoor kitchen, laughing loudly over a ruined batch of pancakes, completely oblivious to everything else. out by the gym, the noise faded into background hum.

caleb was in the middle of a set of pull-ups, his movements controlled, smooth, and deliberately slow. his back muscles flexed under a light sheen of sweat, the grey fabric of his workout shorts riding low on his hips. you sat on a nearby adjustable bench, a skipping rope draped loosely across your lap, keeping your eyes on him rather than the group gathering in the kitchen.

as caleb finished his final rep, he dropped lightly to the rubber-matted floor, exhaling a long, steady breath. he grabbed a white towel from the rack, wiping his brow as he walked over to you, completely ignoring the conversation happening across the lawn. instead of grabbing his own water bottle, he reached for yours, taking a long sip before handing it back to you.

"you're slacking over here." he teased, his voice still carrying that low, gravelly morning texture that hadn't yet been worn down by a day of socializing. he sat on the ground in front of you, placing his hands on either side of your legs. "i thought we were supposed to be training partners."

"i am training." you countered smoothly, your eyes flickered towards corbin and kc approaching the gym before meeting his gaze. "i'm supervising. it's an essential role. someone has to make sure your form doesn't slip."

caleb laughed, a genuine, unforced sound that usually got drowned out whenever the whole villa was crowded into one room. he pulled at your legs, signaling you closer.

"is that so? and how's my form looking, coach?"

"acceptable." you whispered, your eyes dancing with mischief as you reached down, using the corner of your own towel to gently dab away a stray drop of sweat from his temple. your other hand lingered at the nape of his neck, your fingers playing with the hair there. "but i think you need to focus less on the weights and more on your distractions."

"you're the only distraction i have to worry about in this place." caleb murmured softly. he propped his chin on your knee for a second, closing his eyes just to enjoy the absolute stillness of your specific corner. down by the kitchen, a blender whirred to life and the laughter got louder, but right here, it was just the two of you.

down on the main deck, a group was playing a chaotic, screaming game of pool dibble, the splashes punctuating the heavy heat meanwhile you and caleb had successfully retreated upward.

he was lying flat on his back in soul ties, one arm bent behind his head, his face illuminated by the warm light. you sat cross-legged beside his torso, a piece of paper filled with frantic handwritten games of tic-tac-toe, mash, and half-finished drawings of the islanders, resting in your lap, the ink smudging slightly in the heat.

"okay, be honest." you murmured, tapping the back of your pen against your chin as you looked down at him, trying to speak over the sudden burst of cheers from the pool below. "if you had to pick one person in this villa to survive a zombie apocalypse with—excluding me, because that's the obvious choice—who is it and why?"

caleb didn't open his eyes immediately. a slow, deeply amused smile spread across his face, his jaw shifting as he gave the question genuine thought. "excluding you? that makes it tough." he cracked one eye open, looking up at you with a lazy glimmer in his eyes. "i'm probably picking marcus. the guy who fixes our mics. he looks like he knows how to wire a generator in the dark."

"that is a massive cop-out, caleb." you laughed, leaning down to poke his chest with the capped end of your pen, keeping your voice low so it wouldn't carry down to the deck. "you have to pick an islander. those are the rules."

"you just made those rules up." caleb said, his hand reaching out from his side to wrap around your wrist, gently stopping you from poking him again. instead of letting go, his fingers slid down to interlace with yours, forcing you to drop the pen, and pulling your hand down until it rested flat against his ribs. "but if i have to play the game... i’d pick nobody. i’d just find a quiet corner, wait it out while everyone else fight over the food."

you let out a short snort, shaking your head as you leaned your weight forward, resting your forearms on his chest and looking down at him. "you are entirely too serious for this."

"grounded," caleb corrected softly, his other hand coming up to gently push your hair behind your shoulder. his thumb lingered on your cheekbone, his touch incredibly light, completely contrasting his large frame. "grounded is the word. someone's got to keep our heads level in this place. look at you, you're already planning for the end of the world on a tuesday afternoon."

"only because the alternative is listening to bryce and zach flirt for the fourth time today," you whispered, your eyes softening as you leaned down just an inch closer, your breath brushing his lips.

caleb didn't answer with words. he just shifted his grip on your hand, pulling you down into a slow, unhurried kiss that tasted faintly of the coconut water you'd been drinking all afternoon. below the balcony, the pool game continued with another loud splash and a chorus of groans, but up on the daybed, it was just a quiet moment wrapped in kisses and lazy banter.

  you and caleb had taken to inventing your own entertainment while the others bickered in the distance.

you were lying side-by-side in ‘my type on paper’, ostensibly napping under the shade while the rest of the villa busy getting ready for the evening. your head was pillowed on his bicep, your fingers idly tracing the seams of his swim trunks.

"alright, your turn." you whispered, your voice low enough that it wouldn't carry across the lawn. "track four on the playlist for the drive home from the airport."

caleb closed his eyes, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he played the mental jukebox in his head, tuning out the sound of a hair dryer buzzing from the girls' dressing room upstairs. "track four has to be classic r&b. something smooth like ‘burn’ by usher."

"caleb" you said, sounding mock-offended, though a grin tugged at the corner of your lips. "i fully expected you to hit me with some luke combs or morgan wallen." you teased, tilting your head up to look at him. "what do you know about usher?"

caleb let out a low rumble of a laugh, the vibration moving through his chest right beneath your cheek. he opened one eye, giving you a playful, knowing look. "first of all, ouch. second of all, i have layers. you can't just pigeonhole me into country music because i look the part."

"oh, really?" you raised an eyebrow, shifting slightly to rest your chin on his chest. "so you're saying you've got soul?"

 "i’m saying ‘burn’ is a masterpiece." he corrected smoothly before you could reply, caleb cleared his throatkeeping his voice down so it wouldn't carry to the production crew, but putting his absolute all into the delivery, he started singing directly to you.

"tell me why i should stay in this relationship" he sang, his voice dropping into a dramatic, hushed falsetto right against your ear."when i'm hurting, baby… i ain't happy, baby..."

“i think that you should let it burn…” your jaw dropped, immediately slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle him before a producer caught on.

caleb’s eyes snapped open, sparkling with pure mischief as he kissed the palm of your hand until you pulled it away. "see? i got soul," he whispered, his thumb resuming its slow circle against your shoulder. "besides, we need a breather after being trapped on an island with twenty people screaming over who left the toilet seat open. usher brings the peace."

you laughed softly, watching a few of the guys walk around the corner toward the kitchen, completely oblivious to your conversation. "fine. i'll give you usher. but track five is mine."

"lay it on me," caleb murmured, closing his eyes again, content to just melt into the heat of the afternoon and the quiet rhythm of your voice as you both let the rest of the villa fade away entirely.

carrotlster  ©

[ptolemaeiia]

OMG can u pls write a heated oneshot with james and yn making out in the pool

hell yeah i can sorry this took so long baby

𝓦arnings : suggestive, makeout, pool at night, heated. drabble

It was late— way too late for anyone else to be out here—but you and James had the place to yourselves, the distant nois of the resort fading into nothing. You floated on your back for a bit, the cool water lapping at your skin, while he treaded water nearby, his blond hair slicked back, droplets tracing down his neck.

“Shit, this feels good,” he murmured, his voice low and lazy. “Been a long-ass day. Glad you dragged me out here.”

You laughed softly, turning to face him. “You were the one complaining about the heat earlier. Figured this would shut you up.”

He smirked, swimming closer until you could see the way his eyes darkened under the dim lights. “Oh, I’m not complaining now. Not with you looking like that.” His gaze flicked down to your wet swimsuit clinging to your body, then back up. God, you were gonna kill him tonight.

You splashed him lightly. “Eyes up here, asshole.”

“Can’t help it.” He closed the distance, his hands finding your waist under the water, pulling you against him. The contact sent a spark through you— his chest warm against yours despite the cool pool. “You’ve been teasing me all damn evening with those little looks. What, you think I didn’t notice?”

Your breath hitched as his fingers splayed over your hips, thumbs brushing the bare skin just above the waistband of your bottoms. Over the fabric, but firm. Possessive. “Maybe I wanted you to notice,” you whispered, your arms looping around his neck. Your legs brushed his under the water, and he groaned quietly.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy, you know that pretty girl?” James’s voice was rough now, his forehead resting against yours for a second before he tilted his head and kissed you.

It started slow—soft presses of his lips, tasting like chlorine. But then you parted your lips, and it deepened fast— his mouth moved hungrily against yours, tongue slipping in to tangle with yours in a way that made heat pool low in your belly. You kissed him back just as hard, fingers threading through his wet hair, tugging lightly.

Holy shit, this is… Your thoughts scattered as one of his hands slid up your back, pressing you closer, palm flat and warm over your spine. The other stayed at your hip, gripping tight enough that you could feel the tension in his fingers through the thin material. No slipping under, just the delicious friction of skin and wet fabric, bodies grinding subtly in the water as the kiss turned heated, messy.

You nipped at his bottom lip, earning a low curse from him—“Jesus, babe”—before he chased your mouth again, deeper, more desperate. His hand roamed higher, tracing the curve of your side, thumb grazing just under the edge of your top but never pushing further. It was all heat and restraint, the kind that left you both breathing hard between kisses.

“You’re so fucking addictive,” he muttered against your lips, stealing another kiss before you could reply. His heart hammered against yours, or maybe that was yours—you couldn’t tell anymore.

A sharp crack echoed from the bushes nearby—like a branch snapping underfoot—followed by rustling.

You both froze mid-kiss, lips still brushing. James pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his chest heaving and for a split second, you stared at each other, wide-eyed and flushed.

Then another rustle.

A laugh bubbled up from your chest first, uncontrollable. “What the hell was that? A raccoon tryna watch?”

James snorted, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as his own laughter shook through him. “Shit—probably some nosy security guard.” He pulled back fully, grinning like an idiot, water dripping from his lashes. “Moment ruined.”

You giggled harder, shoving his chest playfully even as the heat lingered between you. “Guess that’s our cue to not get kicked out tonight.”

He shook his head, still chuckling as he stole one last quick kiss—soft this time, teasing. “Yeah, yeah. But this isn’t over my pretty girl.”

taglist 🔖 : @jakeycakeys @justpassingdontworry @crypticscarrift @ja4hyvn @taelvvrzz @heejakexx68 @kienhawon @jinniepilled @eczlipse @wxnizz @cupcakeangel9 @yuudaiinhs @xysza. @lcvemonth @acaibowl37 @jjujjukeukeu @sinmiedoalamor @jjuhoonn @inadazeee @naiasayo @thvgia @melfresita-ruri2 @beljakovina @vpsided0wn @meyesthethird @hrtmyfeeling @sonyui @seokiify @seonghwaswifeuuuu @beomchuu2 @miles4eva @ascxan @inadazeeee @ilovegojosatoru13 @kkyunho @hyeonverse @ascxan @sanguinosis @yeeyeehaw22 @flwrsforjisung @ourkivee @lunaryoongie @whos-kkira @eub11ss

[luvvshelly]

So, into you is coming very soon thank y'all for like the starry-eyed I just need some ideas like since she's his hairstyles and she has a daughter how should I write it and should it be just fluff with a little angst at the beginning like y'all tell me cause I'm writing the paragraph in my notes first 😩 help a girl out

[luvvshelly]

Would y'all be mad if I put a clif hanger in starry eyed but I promise a part two after 🥲 I'm posting the fic right now but I wanna give y'all a little heads up

[luvvshelly]

I had to fix but this i decided is gonna come later tonight, I just have to script but if anyone wanna be in the tag list let me know

[luvvshelly]

Somebody has requested this from me but this will be my first fanfic on this page this is just a little teaser I've what I'm writing I hope y'all like it, it's coming soon 🤭

[kissmyglxck]

CAN YOU FEEL IT?! ── .✦ Triumph Tour 1981 era

★ ★ ★. MDNI (18+)

syn. - Michael Jackson is the biggest munch and also the biggest sucker for you. So what does he do after ogling at you the whole night and he’s finally off stage? Pull you outside to the back of the tour bus and tear that box up.

warnings - dom!michael but still a sweetheart , oral (fem!receiving), nose deep, use of nicknames, teasing , taunting , his brothers are annoying , & hella interruptions.

You don’t even remember how fast the two of you ran to get back to the tour bus. Once the curtains closed and he grabbed your hand, it was wraps. All you know is that yall were eager to get back before everybody else, and for one specific reason only.

Pussy.

“Oh my god Michael,” you gasp out with a whimper, hands pressed down into his curls instead of gripping as your eyes roll back.

“s’too much, slow down!” You whine, pushing at his head as he glares up at you, big eyes making you melt even more. He hums against you, eyes fluttering as he savors how you taste.

With your knees already hooked over his shoulders and your mini dress bunched up around your waist, he suddenly grips your thighs tighter, nails digging into the back of your thighs as he drives them further toward your chest.

You throw your head back against the red leather of the circular couch, high from pure ecstasy as you grip helplessly against the couch, heels digging into his back.

But just as another moan slips out, the tour bus dips and laughter starts to fill inside. Neither one of y’all notice, and even if Michael did and didn’t tell you, he definitely ignored it.

The laughter soon dies down as confusion starts to fill his brother’s voices.

“Wait, where is Michael?” Marlon suddenly asks, brows furrowed as they stand around.

“Prolly out talking to one of them execs, you know how he is lately. He ‘busy’.” Randy quotes before a smack is landed on the back of his neck.

“Shut that up, don’t be rude.” Jackie corrects as he glares at him. “I was playin’!” Randy throws his arms up in defense but Jackie smacks his lips.

“Yeah, ‘ight.” He rolls his eyes.

Tito butts in as he sits down, “Last I saw him, he was running off stage soon as the curtains closed and went looking for his lil lady.”

“And how long ago was that?” Jackie asks, one brow raised.

“Like ten…twenty minutes ago?” Tito shrugs.

The front goes dead silent at that. And right on time, a soft—breathless moan flies through the air from the back lounge.

“Nah,” Marlon scoffs, a grin on his stupid face. “He ain’t talking with no execs, that boy back there gettin’ some nookie!” Marlon looks at the three of his brothers before they all start cackling hysterically.

Hearing that sudden burst of laughter from the front lounge made your heart immediately drop to your ass.

Not his goofy ass brothers again. Please not again.

They were always interrupting or ruining something. Anytime you kissed Michael, you would not hear the end of it. So imagine the reactions y’all would get right now.

Your eyes widen, immediately becoming flustered as you just now realize for some reason how thin the walls are on a tour bus.

It was one thing to get caught kissing, but it was another to get caught with Michael Jackson’s face all up in your cooch. Especially when it’s by his big headed ass brothers.

You instantly bit down on your lip as an attempt to swallow a moan, but Marlon’s loud ass disturbed your poor shot at concentration.

“What y’all in here doin’?!” You can practically hear the grin on his face. “Don’t get quiet now!” He shouts from the hallway, getting closer to the back. “We heard you already! What happened?!”

You huff out a heavy but whiny groan, eyes rolling back so hard it physically hurts. “Oh my god,” you mutter, utterly mortified.

Michael doesn’t stop shit he’s doing. If anything, it just gives him more of a drive to make you become even louder as his grip tightens around your thighs.

“Ignore them,” he murmurs in a low, velvety tone, as he cuts his dark eyes up at you for a second. “Don’t pay ‘em no mind. Just focus on me.”

And before you can even respond or attempt to focus, his head drops right back down into your heat. He wastes no time finding that same exact sweet spot, swirling slowly, making you mewl.

“Yo, Mikey!” Randy shouts, knocking on the wall. “Ignore ‘em?! Nigga, you tearin’ her up or what?” Randy snickers as they stare at the pocket door, ears against the wall.

That irritates the fuck outta Michael, cause he snaps his head toward the door quickly. “Gon’ on somewhere!” He shouts, his voice slightly cracking with tone he only used with his brothers. “Leave us alone!”

All four of ‘em just start cackling again. “Oh he mad, mad!” Tito laughs, tapping Randy as they laugh together.

“Ou, I wish y’all would shut the fuck up!” You yell, huffing as you feel your entire face heat up, gripping on that red leather on the couch like you were scared you were gonna fall.

Michael’s head snaps up once again, his brows furrowed, face looking real straight. “Hey, don’t be cussing like that,” he scolds softly, voice gentle but firm as his thumbs rub circles on the inside of your thighs.

“Just calm down baby, stop listening to them.”

“M’tryin Mikey..” You whine, your chest heaving as you look down at him. “But they pissin me off!” You huff.

“Alright, ight, we quit! We leaving y’all alone forreal!” Jackie shouts, his voice finally fading back toward the front of the bus. “We going back to the front!”

For about five minutes, it actually does get quiet. Exactly five minutes.

The hum of the bus engine is loud, you can hear the AC running, and Michael is losing himself all up in you once again. So much so that you tense up, eyes watering as they roll back. A loud and helpless moan flies out from your mouth—

“Ugh! Oh Mikey!”

Your eyes instantly snap open. It’s Marlon’s goofy ass, right outside the door again, for some reason perfectly mimicking the exact pitch of the moan you were about to let out. Irritating ass.

“Ouuu, Michael!”

“Marlon ima beat your ass, watch out!” You shout loud enough so he can hear, your hips rolling instinctively as Michael takes advantage of your distracted yelling, sucking and licking along your slit.

A hand flies up to your mouth, suppressing a moan as your eyes roll back aggressively, tears welling up.

“Just ignore him mama,” Michael mutters against your skin, completely unfazed by their taunting. He still has his sleeves rolled up from the concert. He wasn’t worried about them, not when he waited all night for this. “Just keep looking at me.”

Randy snickers, “come on Marlon, stop it! You know michael trying to eat in peace!” He chimed in from the hallway. He and Marlon burst into laughter whilst Tito let out a snicker.

You begin to yell at them again, “Y’all are so weird and n-nast—” But it’s cut short when Michael starts lapping your juices up, hitting that same spot over and over again, causing your back to arch and for you to grip his hair. “Oh f-fuuck!”

Your mind instantly goes blank, whatever smartass remark you had ready to throw at Randy died right on your tongue.

Michael didn’t give you time to catch your breath or shout another curse word. He yanked you impossibly closer to his face, nose bumping against your clit, and picked up the pace.

Not letting up for a second.

You try your hardest to swallow the lewd sound falling from your lips, but it’s no use. He’s fucking you up.

“Mmnh— m’gonna cum Mike,” you whimper, “gonna cumm..!” You whine loudly as your heels dig into his back, your thighs squeezing around his head.

The sound of your breathless moans tear through the air, and your hips stutter helplessly against his mouth as your eyes begin to blur.

Goddamn that boy can eat.

You go limp, your breath hitching weakly as you entirely forget his damn brothers even exist.

Michael stays right where he is, waiting for you to come down from your high as he kisses your inner thighs.

His lips and chin are completely drenched as a happy grin curls right onto his face. He licks his lips as he finally pulls away, pulling your white dress back over your hips with a gentle pat, obviously stashing your panties elsewhere.

He was proud of himself for finally getting you to shut your very pretty but loud mouth.

Outside the door? It’s dead silent.

For a second, all that’s audible is the hum of the AC. Then, without hesitation, Marlon’s voice breaks the silence. “Damn… I think Mike actually tore her up.”

Tito instantly groans, “oh my god.”

A heavy smack echoes through the wall, followed by Jackie smacking his lips. “Man, get yo stupid ass away from the door.”

“Dang..” Marlon holds the back of his neck, glaring at Jackie.

“Quit bothering them. Hardheaded ass gon’ get us fired. Come on.” He murmurs as they retreat back to the way front of the bus, sitting down.

Michael stands to his full height, towering over you in that white bedazzled button up and lays a soft kiss upon your lips with a smile, letting you taste yourself.

“You taste good.” He compliments between kisses, and you smile big against his lips, pulling away to bury your face in his neck.

“Be quiet, Michael.” You mumble, giggling like a dummy as he chuckles.

Yeah, you loved an eater. This one specifically.

kissmyglxck — don’t copy my work, ask to translate, & if you recreate anything pls tag me <3

[3leni]

THIS WAS SO GOOD 😭 oh my god. the part where mike’s like “hey, don’t be cussing like that” ??? GENUINELY... one of THEE hottest things i’ve read in a mike fic EVER. THE CASUAL DOMINANCE FUUUUUCKKKKKKKK it made me jump 😭 this was very funny & very hot i really needthat rn... i just know he’s on a high after a concert and he’d be eating GOOD. i’m going to be thinking about this fic for a while moot 🚬

[kissmyglxck]

AHHHHH MOOTIE TYYY😭😭😭 IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED ITTTT! HEHEHE

[luvvshelly]

Tell me if I'm the only one getting tired of like twitter/X I saw a Brazilian MJ fan questioning saying Michael Jackson isn't African American or some questioning his gender, why are we putting all of this on him like this man was not a living being like the man is gone for 17 years now questioning his gender and sexuality when he said himself he was a man now your questioning if he was black American it's getting to a point were I wanna uninstall twitter

[mrsm104]

If they only knew - love of a lifetime series.

Summary: Michael has not always been super confident, especially in his early 20s when it comes to Y/N and her previous relationships. But oh boy does that change in his 30s…

Authors note: I’m posting early and one of my fave stories in this series in honour of the Michael biopic breaking world records. Long live the King.

Also, with Y/N’s exes I was just wanting the most polar/ popular opposites of Michael in the relevant time periods. Don’t want you thinking they are my type lol.

As ever, glad you are here and hope you enjoy.

~~~~~~

1982

The first time it happened, it nearly ruined Michael's night.

Nobody knew they were together, that was the problem.

The greatest secret in entertainment sat hidden behind polite smiles, coded phone calls and stolen evenings. To the world, Y/N was simply Y/N, an up and coming singing legend in her own right and Michael was Michael. Friends. Colleagues. Occasionally seen at the same events, nothing more.

The reality was that they had been married for nearly a year and nobody knew.

~~~~~~~~~

The party was packed wall to wall with celebrities, producers, executives and hangers-on desperate to be seen in the orbit of success. Michael hated those sorts of events, he only tolerated them because he had to.

He was halfway through pretending to listen to a record executive when he spotted Y/N across the room.

She looked radiant, dark blue slinky dress and sky high heels.

That effortless smile she seemed to wear without trying and standing entirely too close to her was John Travolta.

Michael immediately felt something unpleasant settle in his stomach.

He knew about John.

Of course he did.

When you married someone, you learned their history. Y/N had never hidden it, there had been other men before him.

Michael knew that, understood it, accepted it….at least in theory.

Actually seeing one of them leaning toward her was another matter entirely.

John was handsome.

Confident.

Older.

The sort of man who never looked nervous walking into a room.

Everything Michael wasn't.

He watched from across the ballroom as John smiled at her, then leaned closer.

Too close.

Michael felt his jaw tighten.

His first instinct was ridiculous, walk over there and put an arm around her waist.

Tell everyone she was his wife and tell John to back off.

Instead he stood exactly where he was, because he couldn't.

Nobody could know, not yet and he hated it.

Across the room he watched Y/N subtly pull backward.

A small movement, almost invisible.

But Michael noticed.

John moved closer again, said something in her ear and she shook her head.

Michael found himself drifting nearer, pretending to wander and bring himself close enough to hear.

"...I'm serious, Y/N" John was saying. "You disappeared on me."

She laughed softly, not flirtatiously… almost awkwardly.

"John."

"Come on, baby."

"I'm serious, that was ages ago"

His smile faltered slightly.

"What happened?"

Michael stopped breathing and then he heard her answer.

"I'm with someone."

Simple.

Firm.

Certain.

John blinked.

"Oh."

"I'm happy, very happy actually."

"Anyone I know?"

A tiny smile touched her lips.

"No, I wouldn’t think so."

Michael's heart squeezed.

"I'm not interested" she continued gently. "I haven't been for a very long time."

John looked disappointed, but eventually nodded.

"Well." He lifted his hands.

"Can't blame a guy for trying, baby"

She laughed.

"No, I guess not."

Then he kissed her cheek and moved away.

The interaction had lasted less than two minutes, but Michael still felt miserable.

Because she'd had a life before him.

Because men looked at her and wanted her.

Because she'd chosen him somehow despite all of them and none of them knew she belonged to him.

~~~~~~

The ride home was painfully quiet, city lights flashed across the limousine windows.

Michael sat beside her with his arms folded, staring straight ahead and brooding.

Y/N watched him for nearly ten minutes before speaking.

"Michael."

Nothing.

"Applehead."

A sigh.

"What, girl?"

She smiled.

"Oh, now he speaks."

"I'm fine."

"I didn’t ask and you are absolutely not fine."

"I'm fine."

She laughed.

The sound only irritated him more.

"Michael."

"What?"

"Are we going to talk about John speaking to me now?"

Silence.

His shoulders slumped and suddenly he looked very young, very vulnerable.

Very much like the shy man she had fallen in love with.

"I know you've been with other people." The words came quietly, almost reluctantly.

She immediately softened, "Oh, baby."

"No, don’t feel bad for me, I know that it’s stupid."

He shook his head.

"It isn't."

"I know you had a life before me."

His eyes stayed fixed on the window, "I know there were men before me."

She reached for his hand.

He let her.

"I just..."

His voice cracked slightly.

"I hate seeing it."

Her heart broke a little.

"I hate seeing somebody look at you like that."

His fingers tightened around hers.

"And they can just walk up and talk to you."

A bitter laugh escaped him.

"They don't have to pretend”, he finally looked at her, big dark eyes filled with insecurity.

"And they all seem so much more experienced than me."

The confession hung between them.

Raw.

Honest.

Painfully Michael.

Y/N moved immediately.

Crossing the space between them and taking his face in both hands.

"Look at me, honey"

He did.

"You want to know what I felt when I dated John?"

His expression tightened, his jaw clenched.

"No."

"I'm telling you anyway."

A reluctant smile tugged at his mouth.

She brushed her thumb across his cheek.

"I liked him."

Michael made a face.

"I liked all of them, Michael."

His face worsened and she laughed.

"But do you know what I felt the first time you held my hand?"

His eyes lifted.

"What?"

Her smile softened.

"Terrified."

He blinked.

"Terrified?"

"I couldn't breathe."

A small laugh escaped her.

"You walked into my life and ruined every man I'd ever met or been with."

That finally earned a smile.

“I ruined them?"

"Completely."

His shoulders relaxed slightly.

She leaned forward.

Resting her forehead against his.

"John never made me forget my own name."

A kiss.

"John never made me pray he'd call."

Another.

"John never made me cry because I loved him so much."

His eyes closed.

"And I certainly never wanted to marry him."

That made him laugh, a real laugh, deep and breathless.

"That’s better."

She kissed him properly then.

Slow.

Deep.

Patient.

Pouring every ounce of certainty she possessed into him.

When they finally separated she smiled against his mouth.

"Who did I marry?"

He grinned, boyish.

"Me."

"Who do I go home to?"

"Me."

"Who gets me?"

His smirks.

"Me."

She kissed him again.

"Exactly."

Then she whispered against his lips.

"I'm your wife."

His breath caught, the words never failed to affect him.

"I only belong to you."

And just like that, all the insecurity melted away.

~~~~~~~~~~~

HIStory Tour - Amsterdam, 1996

The difference between Michael today and the one in the limousine years ago was staggering.

Age had changed him, success had strengthened him and impending fatherhood was changing him even now.

Most importantly, loving Y/N openly had changed him.

He wasn't hiding anymore and apparently neither was his possessiveness.

~~~~~~~

Y/N had managed to carve out three days between her own tour dates to join Michael in Europe.

Three days wasn't nearly enough, it never was.

But after years of competing schedules, separate rehearsals, different countries and endless commitments, they had become experts at stealing time together wherever they could find it.

So she had flown into Amsterdam the night before and immediately made herself at home backstage.

Or rather, in Michael's orbit.

The distinction was increasingly difficult to separate.

From her seat near the edge of the production area, she watched him move through the organised chaos of the HIStory Tour.

Crew members hurried around him.

Dancers stretching and touching up make up.

Managers attempted to keep everything running on schedule.

And somehow Michael remained at the centre of it all.

Confident.

Focused.

Certain.

The transformation still caught her off guard sometimes.

Not because he wasn't recognisably the man she'd fallen in love with.

He was.

The same gentle heart.

The same kindness.

The same ridiculous sense of humour that appeared when nobody else was looking.

But age had settled him, experience had strengthened him.

The uncertainty that occasionally haunted the young man she'd known during the Off the Wall and Thriller years had gradually given way to something steadier.

Something quieter.

Confidence.

Not arrogance, never that.

Just certainty.

The certainty of a man who knew exactly who he was and what he wanted.

He looked beautiful.

There was no point pretending otherwise.

The military jacket fitted broad shoulders that had filled out considerably since his twenties.

His posture carried an ease that only came with experience and years of dance.

Even standing still, he somehow commanded a room.

When he laughed, people gravitated toward him.

When he spoke, they listened.

When he walked through the arena, entire groups unconsciously shifted to make space.

It was fascinating to watch and completely unfair, because somehow he remained devastatingly handsome too.

As though global fame wasn't enough.

The real giveaway, however, was how often his attention drifted back to her.

Every few minutes.

Without fail.

A glance across the room.

A silent check-in.

A small smile whenever he found her exactly where he'd left her.

This morning alone he had interrupted rehearsals twice to ask if she'd eaten breakfast.

Asked a production assistant whether she'd been given water.

Asked another if she needed anything.

Asked security to make sure she had somewhere comfortable to sit.

Then, when that apparently wasn't sufficient, he'd abandoned all subtlety and sent somebody to fetch additional cushions.

Y/N had never felt more loved or more managed.

She was still considering whether she should be offended when Michael looked across the room again.

Their eyes met instantly, his face softened and that smile appeared.

There it is, she thought.

The same smile.

After all these years.

The one that belonged only to her.

She smiled back, the one that only belonged to him.

Michael visibly relaxed.

As though confirming she was still there had solved a problem only he could see.

Typical.

A few moments later he returned to greeting guests, while Y/N settled deeper into the oversized HIStory tour jacket draped around her shoulders.

Technically it belonged to Michael, however she had stolen it sometime during breakfast… like most of his clothing.

The sleeves were too long, shoulders far too broad and black fabric swallowed her whole.

She adored it.

Partly because it smelled faintly of his cologne.

Mostly because she knew it drove him secretly crazy seeing her wear his things.

The engagement ring glittering on her hand caught the light as she adjusted the sleeve.

Several nearby crew members smiled knowingly.

Nobody said anything.

But everyone had noticed the same thing.

The world's biggest star could be preparing to perform for eighty thousand people and he was still more concerned about whether his wife had remembered to drink enough water.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Y/N stood up preparing to head out to the wings to watch the concert, she saw a very familiar face in the meet and greet room.

"Sly?"

Y/N's face brightened with surprise.

The actor turned and laughed immediately.

"Well, look at you, a sight for sore eyes"

She stepped forward and hugged him briefly.

"It's been a while."

"A very long time, sweetheart "

Before either could continue, Michael appeared at her side.

Not intentionally possessive, just instinctive.

His hand settled lightly against the small of her back.

The familiar touch made her smile.

"Hi" she said.

"There you are, girl"

The words escaped him before he could stop them.

Sly caught it instantly.

The way Michael looked at her.

The way Y/N’s entire attention shifted toward him.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Michael extended his hand politely.

"Sylvester, nice to meet you, I loved Rocky."

"You too and thanks. Big fan, man."

They shook hands while Sly glanced between them, a grin appearing.

"You know, Y/N and I used to date back in the day."

Y/N immediately groaned.

"Oh God."

"It wasn't that long really or serious" Sly continued.

"It was absolutely not serious" Y/N confirmed.

Michael looked between them, then shrugged.

"Worked out pretty well for me."

The answer was so immediate that both of them laughed, startled.

Sly folded his arms.

"Oh yeah?"

Michael's smile widened slightly.

"Well."

His eyes flickered briefly toward Y/N, then back.

“I’m the one who got to marry her and all."

For a split second there was silence.

Not because nobody knew, everybody suspected, everybody had suspected it for years, but hearing Michael say it so casually felt different.

Natural.

Matter-of-fact.

Certain.

As though there had never been any question.

Beside him, Y/N felt her heart do an embarrassing little flip.

Even after all these years and hear hearing him call her his wife a thousand times.

It still affected her.

Sly barked out a laugh.

"Fair enough, man."

Michael grinned.

Then offered his hand again.

"It was nice meeting you."

The sentence was delivered with such cheerful confidence that even Sly laughed again.

"You too."

Michael nodded toward the arena.

"I hope you enjoy the show."

Then he turned toward Sly's date.

Who looked moments away from fainting.

"Hello, I’m Michael."

The woman immediately covered her mouth.

"Oh my God."

Michael smiled warmly.

Beside him, Y/N laughed.

The woman pointed between them.

"Wait."

Her eyes grew even wider.

"Oh my God."

Now she was looking at Y/N.

"The Y/N?"

Y/N burst out laughing, "I'm afraid so."

The woman looked ready to cry, "I love your first album, it got me through my break up."

Michael immediately pointed, "See? I told you."

"Told me what?"

"Everybody loves you."

Y/N rolled her eyes.

The woman looked from one to the other, completely overwhelmed.

"I can't believe I'm meeting both of you."

Michael laughed.

"Sorry about that."

The woman made a strangled noise.

"You're apologising?"

Sly was laughing so hard by now he had given up contributing, it was just such a random turn of events.

~~~~~~~~

A tour coordinator appeared nearby, Michael still had dozens of people waiting and reluctantly he began moving down the line again.

Only this time Y/N came with him, not that she had a choice, he simply didn’t let go of her hand and nobody dared question it.

She easily slipped into step beside him.

Michael greeting guests.

Y/N chatting easily with them.

The reactions became increasingly entertaining.

One person arrived expecting to meet Michael Jackson and suddenly found themselves face to face with Y/N too.

Another completely forgot what they intended to say.

A radio contest winner cried.

A television presenter lost the ability to form coherent sentences.

Michael found the whole thing hilarious.

Especially whenever someone recognised Y/N a second later and reacted all over again.

"Oh my God."

"Wait."

"You're Y/N."

"The Y/N?"

By the fifth time, Michael was openly laughing.

Tugging her a little closer beside him.

"See?"

"Stop."

"I keep telling you."

"Michael."

"You're famous."

She gave him a look. “I’m aware you dork.”

The look only made him grin wider.

For the next twenty minutes they worked the line together.

The King of Pop.

The Queen of Pop.

Standing side by side.

Completely effortless.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, people stopped trying to figure out whether they were together.

Because nobody looked at each other that way unless they were in love.

Nobody.

Not even close.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the final guest had been greeted, the atmosphere backstage had changed.

The clock was ticking.

Crew members moved with greater urgency.

Headsets crackled.

Security tightened.

Somewhere beyond the walls of the arena, eighty thousand people were beginning to roar.

Showtime.

Michael felt it immediately.

The familiar electricity.

The anticipation.

The pressure.

The responsibility.

No matter how many years he performed, no matter how many records he broke, that feeling never entirely disappeared.

He still cared too much.

Still wanted every show to be perfect.

Still wanted to give people something magical.

A stage manager appeared beside him.

"Five minutes."

Michael nodded.

Then immediately turned toward Y/N.

His wife was already smiling, she knew that look. The one that appeared right before every show.

Part excitement, part nerves.

He reached for her hand.

"Come with me, honey"

The words were quiet, private.

She slipped her hand into his without hesitation and ogether they disappeared down a quieter corridor backstage, away from the crowds and cameras and endless demands.

The noise softened behind them.

Until it was just the two of them, finally.

Michael let out a slow breath.

"I’m so glad you are here."

Y/N laughed softly.

"You keep saying that."

"I know."

"You keep finding me anywhere backstage and making people get me things."

His smile appeared instantly.

"I need to know where you are, always."

The answer made her heart ache a little.

After all these years.

After all the countries.

All the tours.

All the chaos.

He still looked relieved every time he saw her.

Michael's hands settled gently at her waist.

The oversized tour jacket she had stolen from him hung around her shoulders.

His jacket.

His wife.

His favourite sight in the world.

For a moment he simply looked at her.

Taking her in.

The familiar face.

The sparkling ring.

The woman he loved.

The future they were building together.

His expression softened.

Then, quietly, he bowed his head.

The shift was subtle.

But Y/N recognised it immediately.

Prayer.

Michael squeezed her hand.

Closing his eyes.

"Lord..."

His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Thank You for today."

The words came naturally.

As they always did.

"Thank You for getting us here safely."

A breath.

"Thank You for the people in this building."

Another.

"Thank You for letting me do what I love."

His fingers tightened gently around hers.

Then his smile appeared.

Small.

Tender.

"Thank You for my wife."

Y/N felt her chest tighten.

Michael continued.

Still speaking softly.

Still speaking from the heart.

"And thank You for our baby."

The words hung in the quiet corridor.

Sacred.

Private.

The secret they were carrying together.

His voice grew softer still.

"Please help me give the people a good show tonight."

A small laugh escaped him.

"And help me not slip or trip over anything."

That made Y/N smile immediately.

Michael opened one eye.

"That can happen."

"It has happened."

"Exactly."

She laughed.

He closed his eyes again.

"Thank You for everything."

Then finally, "Amen."

"Amen." Y/N whispered.

When he opened his eyes again, they were shining.

Not with nerves.

With gratitude.

With love.

With that endless wonder he never seemed to lose, the wonder that she had somehow chosen him.

He looked at her for a long moment, then tilted his head slightly.

"Well?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Well what?"

His grin appeared, the mischievous one, the one she knew far too well.

"Aren't I supposed to get a good luck kiss?"

"Ohh."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"Is that all you want?"

Michael looked scandalised.

"Y/N."

She laughed, stepping closer.

Close enough to feel the warmth of him and his hands immediately circled her waist again.

"I suppose you've earned one."

"I definitely have."

"You haven't even gone on stage yet."

"I've been charming people all afternoon."

"You have."

"I was excellent."

"You were."

Michael's smile widened.

Then disappeared entirely when she lifted a hand to his face.

Her thumb brushing softly across his cheek.

The affection in her eyes made him melt every single time.

"You are going to be incredible tonight."

His breathing slowed.

She continued.

"I know you're nervous."

"A little."

"I know you still worry."

He smiled sheepishly.

"A little."

"But you're going to walk out there and make eighty thousand people believe in magic."

His eyes never left hers.

"And when you're done..."

Her voice lowered.

Soft.

Teasing.

"I'll be waiting."

Michael's eyebrows lifted.

"Yeah?"

She nodded.

"The we can go back to our room and have a nice… long… hot shower."

His grin immediately returned.

"Mm, together?"

"Mmhmm and maybe some ice cream after."

"Definitely listening."

"And maybe..."

She stepped a little closer.

Close enough that his breath caught.

"...if you're very good..." she winks.

Michael laughed softly.

"There it is."

"What?"

"The bribery."

"It works."

"It absolutely works."

She kissed him then.

Deeply.

Tenderly.

Not rushed.

Not hurried.

A kiss full of years.

His hands tightened gently against her waist, holding her just a little closer, as though he could take the feeling with him onto the stage.

When they finally parted, neither moved very far.

Foreheads touching.

Smiles lingering.

The distant roar of the crowd growing louder.

"They're waiting for you my angel.” Y/N whispered.

Michael sighed dramatically.

"I know."

"You should go."

"I know."

Another kiss.

Quick.

Sweet.

"I love you."

The words came immediately.

Certain.

As natural as breathing.

"I love you too."

Then she smiled.

The smile that still made his heart race after all these years.

"Go on, Mr Jackson. Good luck!"

His grin widened.

"Shower and ice cream, Mrs Jackson?"

"Shower and ice cream."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Michael stole one final kiss, then reluctantly stepped away.

Walking backward for several feet because he couldn't quite stop looking at her.

Making her laugh.

The sound followed him all the way toward the stage.

And somehow, as the roar of eighty thousand people swelled around him, Michael found himself smiling.

Because no matter how incredible the show would be...

He already knew the best part of his night was waiting for him afterwards.

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: *sigh* I just love them.

Let me know what you thought? Or fave scene from the biopic?

[luvvshelly]

Should I do some Michael fanfics like what do y'all want to read I need idea give me some NOOWA 😩 I was thinking of doing a avatar and Michael and some cortis fanfic but idkkkkk tell me y'all

[slut4marvelmenn]

i cant rmb if i did this alr or not ANYWAYS can i req something about jaafar and his smile? literally could be based around anything but his smile like genuinely lowers my cortisol and im obsessed I LOVE UR WORKS AND ILY QUEEN 🫶🏾

Little Bunny

Summary: What starts as playful tickling turns into something way more dangerous once Jaafar finally gets his revenge.

Pairing: Jaafar Jackson x fem!reader

Warnings: FLUFF, tension, kissing, teasing, suggestive content

(A/n: tysm @lov3lylxvender for sending this request it was sooo cute to write i will do more requested blurbs asap)

Jaafar was lying on the bed scrolling on his phone, looking unfairly hot and relaxed as always. You, however, were feeling extra playful and bunny brained.

Without warning, you pounced on him, straddling his waist and attacking his sides with fast, mischievous fingers.

“Baby no!” Jaafar burst out laughing, trying to squirm away but failing. His deep laugh filled the room as you tickled him without mercy.

You giggled wildly, tongue poking out between your bunny teeth in that bright, excited smile he secretly loved. “Your laugh is so cute! I can’t stop!”

You kept tickling his ribs and under his arms, leaning down to kiss his face while he laughed and tried to grab your wrists.

“Baby I swear!” he wheezed, bunny teeth flashing as he smiled helplessly.

After a few more seconds of your adorable chaos, Jaafar had enough.

In one smooth move, he flipped you over and pinned both your wrists above your head with one big hand. His body pressed you down into the mattress, suddenly very much in control.

Your eyes widened, still smiling that playful bunny smile.

“Got you,” he murmured, voice dropping low. His free hand pushed your hair aside as he leaned down and sank his teeth into the side of your neck.

You gasped sharply as he bit down, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. He moved lower, biting and sucking along your collarbone and throat, turning your playful giggles into soft, breathy moans.

“J-Jaafar…” you whimpered, squirming underneath him.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark but still soft.

“You think it’s funny to tickle me until I can’t breathe?” he asked, voice husky. He leaned down again and bit your neck a little harder, right where your pulse was racing. “Now it’s my turn, little bunny.”

He kept you pinned, kissing and biting along your neck and shoulder, leaving pretty little marks while you melted under him, legs wrapping around his waist.

You let out a happy little squeak when he sucked especially hard on one spot.

Jaafar just smiled against your skin like he already knew he won.

“Keep smiling like that with your cute bunny teeth…” he whispered, nipping your earlobe, “and I won’t let you up for a while.”

Tag list: (if u wanna be added to it please ask/dm me, i tried to add everyone so if someone's missing pls lemme know)

@lov3lylxvender @darkgreengrl @annizzenn @maryfett99 @ming1sgf @princessjadi @sadpetalsstuff @jaafarsbaby @taiylors16 @tokischaaaaa @swe3tyann @blueki16 @honeyatsu @youwannabestartingsomething @imsuchatyrant @jkkyks @bcktolife09 @choppedpersoncupcake @fluffybunbunxo @chillspritecranberry @cocomilaa @loverstar014 @jaafaredits @heyapoopy @arthurtvslover @iheartfolkloreee @mysticmarble222 @rhaenyrasflame  @her30910 @fleurenoir @superlegend216 @lostress101 @avabreelovely @1eliana123-blog @myasfwn @raefoxiegirl @mjsapplehead @prettygalleria @ilocuras24 @xcxninibaby

[luvvshelly]

Lmaoo and wattpad too no shade

[strrawberrycolaa]

⋆·˚ ༘ *Off Camera

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･bad!michael jackson x fem!reader

summary: after the 1988 grammy's, where you and Michael reveal a pleasant surprise for the press, the two of you go home to rest for the evening

warning: MDNI 18+, cutie pies, not proof read, kissing, fingering, orgasm, established relationship, praise

a/n: my fav era<33, probably a part 1 so stay tuned

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“Michael! Michael this way!”

“Are you two engaged? We’d like to know!”

“Is it true you eloped in Las Vegas?”

“Y/n, let us get a glimpse of the rock!”

Michaels hand held yours tightly, his other hand firm on your waist as he guided you through the swarm of paparazzi towards the limousine.

Tonight had been the 30th annual Grammy awards. 5 nominations for his Bad album but not a single win, well, not a major win anyway. You could tell Michael was a bit disappointed, the way his hand loosened in your own, the way his jaw tighten just a bit. You were looking forward to the performance of the evening, the one that would be performed by your boyfriend and hopefully cheer him up.

That night was a night everyone would remember as something simple, a legendary performance, a robbed artist.

But for you, tonight was also the night you and Michael would go public with your engagement, the first night you would wear this beautiful, diamond ring on your finger for the cameras to see.

After the event, many had noticed the ring on your way out, and the paparazzi had definitely noticed.

Now you two were just focused on making it over to the car.

"C'mere honey" he guided you into the car, following in after you, and the door finally shut. The limo drove off, and Michael turned to you.

"Honey are you alright?" he asked, concerned.

"Yes baby. I just thought one of us was bound to have tripped." you laughed at the end of your sentence. "You think they saw?"

"Duh! they practically ripped the thing right off your finger. Im surprised we got past them in time.” He was practically smiling ear to ear as he pulled your legs over his lap. He looked over to find you already staring at him, he moved a hand over to yours, lacing your fingers together from the back of your hand, as you both sat in a comfortable silence on the way home.

Once you arrived, Michael helped you out of the car, carrying your bag and shoes in one hand. You bid your farewell to the driver, and made your way inside.

The door shut behind him as you walk in front towards the kitchen, mumbling on about some recipe you had wanted to try, your annoyance getting the better of you with your earring refusing to come off. The cool, white tiles felt like heaven beneath your feet, soothing the ache that comes with wearing heels for 10+ hours. But just as your turning around to face your fiancé, your feet loose feeling of the ground, your stomach dropping as your suddenly lifted up over Michael’s shoulder.

“Michael!! What are you doing!?” You yelled in a half scream.

“Look at you, how was I supposed to focus on anything tonight with you looking like this. Especially knowing you’re going to become my wife.” He spoke almost in relief, like he had been waiting to tell someone how he had been feeling. He made his way up the stairs, keeping you steady as to make you don’t fall over.

“Put me down!” You kicked your feet up, but it was useless. “Michael Joseph! You better set me down the moment we get upstairs.” You most sternly.

“Yeah, yeah.” He scoffed. Once upstairs, he made his way to the end of the hall where the master bedroom you both shared awaited your arrival. You were only able to tell he was at the edge of the bed from your view of the Tv in front of you, then you felt a pair of familiar hands grip your hips tightly and pull you from your position, resulting in you falling onto the soft, silk sheets of your shared bed.

“Are you done?” You say smirking, adjust the ruffled hair out do your face.

“Not even close.” He lifts a hand to brush the excess hair away from your shoulder, leaning down to place a light kiss on your collar bone.

“Michael…” your heart beats against your ribs as excitement slowly fills you.

“You’re gonna look so beautiful. You’ll be on the cover of every magazine, every newspaper." You smile grew, a breathy laugh escaped through your nose.

He lips trailed down, leaving sweet pecks that brought butterflies to your stomach. "Thats what this about? our wedding?" you questioned.

"No, no honey, not just our wedding, you. How you're gonna look when you walk down that aisle. When you marry me." His eyes were practically sparkling, his smile came uncontrollably along with the slight shade dark red that brushed across the apples of his cheeks.

Before you could think of a response, you felt his hands force their way under your back, gripping the edge of the zipper and pulling it down. "And I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything, but after that last award I was nominated for was gifted to that band, apart of me felt odd, had me questioning wether the album was good enough."

You lifted your hands to cup his face, stroking your thumbs against the smooth skin of his cheeks. He nuzzled into your palm slightly, giving a light kiss before continuing.

"But then you told me not to worry, that I would still get to perform and that everyone would love it. And when I looked down at the ring on your hand, the ring I've caught so many staring at tonight, I just couldn't help but feel so lucky, and so in love."

You swore you could feel the stinging grow behind your eyes. God, you were so in love with this man. "I love you, Michael."

"I love you too Angel, so much. You looked so beautiful tonight, especially with my ring on your finger. Please let me make love to you, please, please, pleaseee." Jesus, he looked so sweet when he begged. He was already messing with the fabric of your dress, desire taking over as you felt his hands pull down the fabric painfully slow.

You hands instinctively placed themselves over his own, helping him pull off the dress in a more efficient motion.

“Oh Michael, you know I always want you.” You smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from his face behind his ear.

He couldn’t contain himself anymore, once he got the dress off, he pushed himself up, hooking an arm under your waist in the process, and bringing you both to the center of the bed. He lowered his head to kiss and leave marks across your neck, his finger gently pulling at the edge of your underwear.

You gasped, your mouth immediately forming into a smile and then a soft laugh. His fingers brushed brushed against the edge of your folds, feeling and messing with the wetness that seeped through. God, you turned him on so much, he's barley touched you and you're already acting like this for him. You've barley done anything and he's already so hard for you. "You're so pretty, baby." he breathed against your mouth, kissing the corner of your lips.

"That's only because you love me so much." you said in an almost seductive tone, your voice low. His kissing descending down your neck. His fingered slowly moving up and down the your slit.

He said out a soft, breathy laugh before he spoke, "Nah, it's just you. You're radiant, you are a jewel." tingles filled your lower stomach as your hips involuntarily stuttered forward. his soft words filling your head, making you dizzy.

“Honey…” his fingers sunk into your soaked pussy, curling slowly at an angle, causing your body to jerk. “You’re really wet angel, god you drive me crazy.” His breath picked up as did yours. He pulled you onto his lap, his free hand resting on your waist. Your arms wrapped around his neck for balance, allowing your head to fall in the space that was the crook of his neck.

His fingers picked up their pace, feel and stimulating the moist flesh of your walls. Your moans grew, going straight into your fiancés ear. His eyes rolled back at the sound. The delicious sound of him pleasing his woman rang echos in his mind. He loved you so much, he couldn’t believe he was the one touching you—loving you—like this.

“M-Michael…” you whimpered. Your pussy contracting around his fingers as a gush of wetness trailed down to his palm.

A deep exhale left his breath, “oh angel…you feel so nice. You’re getting my hand all wet baby.” He let out a single breathy laugh at the last word, looking at your twisting, flushed face that made him even harder.

“Michael I-” you wanted more, you were chasing your high, your hips practically riding his hand. Harsh nails scratched at the skin where his neck ended and his back begun. Begging for any kind of release.

“It’s ok baby, I know. I’ll give you everything you want, I promise.” His words drew you closer and closer to the edge. The hot coil within you threatening to snap, his fingers picking up their pace, your vision turning white.

“C’mon honey…I know you can do it…” he voice low.

His sweet words drove you over the edge, drenching your fiancés hand as you came. Red lines revealed themselves on his back and the scratching eased, your moans slowly dying down.

You sniffled before saying anything, “God baby, I love the you make me feel.” You slowly lifted your head up to face him. He kissed you immediately, gently pushing you on your back before positioning himself on top of you.

“I love you. I just can’t explain it, I love you so much. I love touching, feeling you...” he whispered, his lips descending to place a soft kiss on the corner of your jaw.

You smiled. he was so sweet it made your heart melt. "I love you too honey."

You couldn't wait to marry him.

[sequinedrhinestones]

MARLON JACKSON & MICHAEL JACKSON at Studio 54 for Steve Rubell's birthday party in 1979 (02/∞)