Pairings: MatureEra!Michael x Younger!Reader Headcanons
Genre: Pure Fluff !
Warnings:: Age gap(?) Reader is 30, Michael is in his 60s. Reader's referred to as 'mom' like once. Perhaps Michael in a bonnet. aside from that, None :)
Summary: Michael gets a new phone, how bad could it be?
W.C: 829
Author’s Note: I love love LOVE this one! Let me know what you think in the comments, reblog if you love it. As always, happy Reading!
-Love, B. 🤍 ↪ The Archive.
OlderHusband!Michael who decided it was time for a new phone after eighteen years of loyalty to his little IPhone 3G. He chose (was forced) to upgrade to a 15pro Max because he found the newest models “too intimidating”
OlderHusband!Michael who regrets his decision immediately. He mourns the loss of his home button, doesn’t quite understand the mechanics of FaceID, and absolutely hates the little woman that starts talking whenever he holds the power button. You promise he’ll figure it out, but in his head Michael seriously considers bringing back telegrams
OlderHusband!Michael who asks how to put your number on speed dial. When you tell him that feature is long gone, he nearly returns the phone all together.
“What good is this thing if I can’t call anyone quickly?”
You do your best to explain that the phone is designed to be fast, and that he won't have to worry about it, but the look he gives you makes it hard to keep a straight face.
OlderHusband!Michael who and all but begs you to teach him how to use social media properly. You started small, with Instagram, showing him all the steps to make a post and how to caption it. Michael decides his first post should be a Christmas photo from about two years ago of you, him, and the kids in matching pajamas. He captioned it “Fanily :)”, since he couldn’t really see the keyboard, which you thought was the cutest thing.
OlderHusband!Michael who tried, keyword: tried, to get on tiktok. He wasn’t really a fan of the short-form style, and the content geared to a new user put him off.
“I don’t like this application, honey. I really don’t see how you spend so much time on here.”
OlderHusband!Michael who, despite his distaste, still tries to learn how to use the app just so he can share something with you. There was a video of some bendy doll with his face on it. Michael thought it was cute, and tried to send it to you. Instead, he bought fifty of those little dolls and laughed himself sick when they arrived. You suspect that it wasn’t an accident, but ultimately decided to just let him have his fun
OlderHusband!Michael who is tucked in next to you, bonnet on, winding down. He’s quickly found himself addicted to the little videos and shows you every single one. Some make you laugh, others make you tell yourself to watch your husband carefully.
“Angel, look, this dog is dancing on two feet!”
“...Mikey, honey…that’s A.I”
OlderHusband!Michael whose frustration grows larger by the millisecond. All he wants to do is text his children goodnight, but the keyboard is too blurry. He’s also dreading having to do it three times over. This is when you step in and introduce him to the beauty of group chats. He physically relaxes when he realizes he can send a mass message, but tenses again when it comes time to type it out.
You’d offer to do it for him, but you know he’ll want to figure it out on his own. So, you propose an alternative: voice messaging. When you explain the concept, he raises a brow
“Baby, that’s just a one-sided phone call.”
“Michael, do you want to send the message or not?”
OlderHusband!Michael who struggles more with sending a vm than he did with texting. He kept having to rerecord because he was accidentally deleting his messages. Eventually he gave up and decided that his kids would know he loved them, even with a few typos.
As soon as he sends the message, Paris calls your phone to ask if he’s had a stroke. You explain that he’s fine, and just wanted to text them before you went to bed. She then tells you to get him a stronger prescription next time he visits the optometrist.
OlderHusband!Michael who, a few days later, sends you a text while you're working. When the notification pops up on your screen, a smile forms on your face. You really can’t wait to decipher what your man is trying to say to you this time.
You open the app and let out a surprised laugh, it’s a voice message! To you, this is a milestone. Michael did something on his phone without you there to coach him through it. You open the chat thread and press play.
“...Baby… It’s me, Michael! I think I figured this out! I just want you to know I love you, and I hope you have a good day. Okay, bye now.”
Your heart melts as you think about your husband with his little glasses probably fighting for his life just to send this to you. There are a few more seconds on the message which you assume are just silence, but then,
“ — Okay Prince, how do I send this to your mom?...No, I want her to think I did it myself.”
Jermaine look so sexy while playing bass, it’s his enthusiasm, his confidence and the way his fingers move omg. 👀😮💨 I need a fanfic about this PRONTO!
ᯓ★ after being away from you so long, husband!marlon can’t help be to feel aroused by your usual traditions! ᯓ★
description ᯓ★: after marlon gets back from the tour with his brothers and comes home to you, he seems more intrigued with your nighttime routine than usual. you start to question it, but before you do, you get your answer.
you didn’t know what was up, ever since marlon got back, he’d been acting different.. he’d been clingier than usual, giving you random bursts of affection.. it’s not that you didn’t want, but it was just different.. you were in the bathroom, roller setting your hair for the next day..
marlon walks in, and spots you in your teal, high low nightgown, with the bow tying your breasts together, at the back of it stopping right below the cups of your ass cheeks..
“baby..” he murmurs, wrapping his hands around your waist..
“yes?” you says, putting the last roller in your head.. he kisses your neck, and looks at you in the mirror..
“i missed you so much.. everything about ya..” he whispered, sucking on your earlobe.. you giggle..
“what’s got you in a mood?” you tease, looking up at him.. he smacks your ass and smiles ..
“i can’t miss my woman? been gone for too long, i miss you, and i miss my pussy..” he says, looking at you with heavy lidded eyes..
you giggle, gently smacking his chest at the vulgarity of his words.. “marlonnn..” you whisper, already soaked.. he presses the bulge of his erection against your stomach..
you bite your lip.. “mhm.. you missed me too, mama?” he whispered, lifting your chin.. you nods, clenching your thighs together tight..
“words, girl.. lemme hear you say it..” he says, licking his lips..
“yes i missed you, baby.. y’know i did..” you whispered, and he picks you up.. he carries you to the bedroom, then drops you down on the huge mattress..
he rubs up and down your thighs .. “you got on panties?” he says, looking up at you.. you shake your head and he smiles..
“oh hell yea.. i’m finna get me some tonight..” he says, making you giggle..
he lifts your gown up, and your glistening head was straight in his face.. he smiles like a kid in a candy shop.. he lifts your thighs and pushes your knees to your boobs..
“marlon..” you whimpered, and he smacks your thigh.. “what’s my name?” he growls..
“daddy..” you whine.. he smiles against your thigh, then presses a soft kiss to your pussy..
he starts making out with your pussy, slowly licking your lips before his lips wrap around your clit and suck hard. your toes curl and you let out a soft sigh.. your fingers rub his head..
he moans against your pussy, thrusting his tongue in and out.. “oh god.. baby yes ..” you gasp, whining..
he pulls away, and thrusts two fingers inside.. he immediately curls them, knowing exactly what he wanted..
“ohmyfuckinggosh..” you whine, gently rubbing pushes at his head .. he sucks on your clit, curling his fingers faster..
“cmon mama.. give me what i want..” he murmurs against your clit.. you gasps, and before you know it, you’re squirting all in his mouth..
“ohh fuckk daddyyy..” you whine, your legs trembling..
he smiles.. “mhmmm, give it to me..” he murmurs, sucking your clit harder.. your body jerks and you whine..
“fuckkk.. marlonnn i can’t take itt..” you whine, his mustsche rubbing against your pussy lips.. he flattens his tongue and shakes his head side to side..
“ouu! bae!” you cry out, your toes curl tighter and you pull on his curls..
“gimmie another..” he murmurs against your pussy.. he slurps on your clit, curling his fingers faster..
“daddy i’m cumming!” you squeal, squirting for the second time.. he smiles, and pulls away.. you softly pant..
“you a nasty ass girl, y’know that?” he giggles, leaning up and pulling his pants off..
you bite your lip, watching him pull his dick out.. he strokes himself twice and rubs his tip against your clit.. you softly whine..
“shh babygirl.. ima give it to you..” he murmurs, sliding in.. you whine and reach up to grab your ankles..
he slowly thrusts in and out, curling his hips and looking for that squishy spot inside you..
“ohmygosh.. daddy..” you whimper, looking up at him.. he lifts your gown a little more to expose your boobs..
he gently grabs both of them, massaging them.. “ouu my baby.. so wet.. i love my pussy..” he whispered, kissing you.. he curls his hips again, and hits the spot..
you gasp, arching your back and whimpering.. he speeds up. you bite your lip.. “fuckk daddyyy.. it’s so gooddd..” you whine..
he starts plowing into you, and you bite your lips.. “mhmmm, this that good dick, ain’t it baby?” he coos, rubbing your clit..
“unh huh! all in my stomach, don’t stop daddy!” you whine, gasping.. he leans down and catches your lips in a sloppy kiss..
“awn fuck!” you cry, feeling another orgasm build your in your tummy..
“there you go. cmon baby, how does it feel? hm? feel good?” he whispered , biting your cheeks..
“y-yesss! i’m cumminnn!” you whimpered, squirting .. your toes curl and he pulls out, smacking his tip against your clit to keep you going..
he pushes back in and grinds in a circle, right up against that g-spot.. “ohhh fuckkk..” he hisses, his head falling back..
you grip his arms and whimper his name, creaming all over his big dick..
“i’m bout to cum, mama.. ohh shittt.. take it..” he grunts, slamming in deep and releasing all his cum into your womb..
marlon was getting you dressed after he bathed you.. he pulls your panties up your, getting rowled up at your pussy print..
“baby? one more round?” he says, looking up at you..
“you’re insatiable..”
“yea yea, whatever..” he murmurs, kissing your clit through the panties
princess’s note!!!: yall this is long .. 😀 they be sleeping on marlon, STOP THAT MADNESS.
dumbification, cock drunk reader after argument with jermajesty
~i screamed when i read this. i support the cock drunk agenda, i love being dick dumb sometimes. hope you enjoy this while I finish up other requests and fics I have planned @vict-oryy
-jelly🪼
Arguing with Jermajesty wasn’t an often occurrence, him preferring to speak about any issues calmly to come to a conclusion. He didn’t like to yell, he refused to engage in the conversation if he noticed you were considerably upset and not being rational, opting to gently talk you down until you could clearly tell him what the problem was.
He refused to engage in toxicity, having his past experiences and knowing your past experiences with ex-partners. If he even thought you were trying to bait him into an argument, he would correct that immediately. “Ma, until you calm down and start acting like you were raised with some sense, we’re not talking about it.”
“Yeah, I understand you’re upset, but we don’t talk to each other crazy, do we?” He loved his girl and would do anything for you, so he was confused as to why you would need to question his loyalty or love for you. Until you finally told him your issue.
The past few days have been rocky, you refusing to speak to him unless needed. Not eating with him like normal, not allowing him to touch you, rolling your eyes when he asked what’s wrong; making your little snide comments: “You know what’s wrong with me. Go ask that bitch.” He had had enough, he wasn’t even sure what ‘bitch’ you were referring to. Cheating was something he wouldn’t tolerate, the idea of wronging you like that making his stomach clench.
He was able to corner you on the fourth day, his patience wearing thin. You were scrolling through Instagram looking for your next hairstyle and who to book with when he walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. “What’s your issue, Y/N?” Your head shot up, he never called you by your name, even when referring to you when he was talking to other people. It was always ‘baby,’ or ‘ma,’ or ‘sweetheart.’
“You know my issue. Got bitches on my phone playing and now you’re in here playing in my face like you don’t know nothing. Get the fuck on.” Strike one.
“What have I told you about your mouth? I don’t give a damn about other people, but when you’re talking to me, talk right.” He nodded his head, giving you a sign to start again. “Try again.” Your body wasn’t sure whether to be turned on by his stern tone, or be irritated that this is what he decided to focus on.
You rolled your eyes at him, smacking your lips. You grabbed your phone to show him the screenshots of messages a fake spam page had sent you before blocking your account. There was a girl claiming she’s been messing around with Jermajesty for a while, and how he had been buying her gifts to keep her quiet. At first, you doubted her claims, not believing some random over your man. But then she sent screenshots of text messages, money being given over apple pay, pictures of Chanel and Coach purses.
The messages made you sick looking at them, not wanting to believe that the man you wanted to marry was sticking his dick inside some random.
Jermajesty scrolled through the messages and pictures, taking his time to analyze the situation. “This isn’t even me, darling. I don’t know a Kaniyah, I’m not with anyone but you, and you know I would never do you like that.”
“Do I? Every time I think I can trust a nigga, I get done wrong. I’m just a dumb bitch for thinking you were any different. I’m done, get the fuck out of my face.” Strike two.
“Done? Done with what?”
“You, fuck nigga! Go get Kaniyah since you want the bitch so bad!” This was his last straw. And that’s how you ended up on all fours, begging for him to pull out just a few inches.
“It’s too deep! Please, ‘can’t take it.” His thrusts stayed steady, pushing all the way in to hit your cervix.
“Nah, you gotta take all of it. Told you to watch your mouth, ma.” He had already made you cum on his tongue and fingers three times back to back. Your sensitivity levels skyrocketing with his thick dick stroking your weeping pussy.
“I already told you I don’t know that girl. You know you’re my girl and I only want you. How many times I gotta prove it to you?” He wasn’t asking rhetorical questions this time, he genuinely needed to know what you needed from him so you wouldn’t doubt him.
“I- oh fuck. Right there, pleasepleaseplease.” You hadn’t registered what was being said to you, completely enamored with the curve of his dick and how it perfectly hit the gummy spot that made you drool. He let out a sadistic laugh, enjoying your struggle to speak to him.
“Look at you. Can’t even speak. Such a silly girl, thinking I want any other pussy than this pretty girl down here. You know I love my girls.” You couldn’t help but clench down on his dick, cream building on the length of him.
Your fourth orgasm was building, your stomach tight, but your bladder felt full. This feeling was foreign, your body felt light, but your eyes were heavy, almost going cross at the pleasure Jermajesty was inflicting on you.
“Wait! Pull out, you’re gonna make me pee.” Your heart somehow started to race faster, reaching back with trembling fingers to try and stop his heavy thrusts. He just put your hand back on the bed, pushing your back deeper into your arch, spine bent almost unnaturally.
His hips sped up, now trying to coax the orgasm from you. He fucked his frustrations into you, hands gripping your hips with bruising force. It actually pissed him off that you would even consider the possibility of him cheating on you.
“You think I would cheat on you? You, baby? Do you know who you are? Got me fucked up.” With every word, his thrusts became more firm. Your poor little pussy couldn’t handle him anymore, unable to hold on. Your juices splashed on his dick and abdomen, soaking the sheets beneath you, mixing with the cream that had accumulated on his dick.
Your screams echoed throughout your shared apartment, surely heard by neighbors. Your orgasm continued for what felt like eons, rendering your legs useless. You lay limp underneath him, hoping he was done with you until you noticed he was still hard, dick still throbbing inside of you; still digging you out.
“You owe me one more, girl. Not done spending time with my sweet girl down here.” You laying flat on your stomach didn’t deter him from fucking into you, he pushed your legs into the number 4 position and got to work.
Sobs wracked through your body. The pace of his thrusts slowed considerably, a stark difference from the last round. He slowly pulled out until just his tip remained in your ruined pussy, thrusting back in slowly so you could feel all of him. Every vein and how his dick hooked your cervix.
“You got your nerve. Who comes home to you everyday? Takes care of anything for you?” You open your mouth to answer, but no matter how hard you tried, you could only let out a squeak. His hands got a tight grip on your hair, pulling your head back to hear you. “Huh?”
“You, pa! Y-you take care of me.” You did your best to give him full answers, knowing he wouldn’t take one word responses from you. He needed to know that you understood what he was saying.
“That’s fucking right. You’re my girl, this is my pussy, and this is all I want. Swear to god I don’t want another girl. Only want my baby.” His hips started to stutter, whining at his last words. His words set you off, drool spilling from your mouth as you wailed into the sheets.
His nut spills inside of you, warm and overflowing. He tried to fuck it into you, but your own cum mixed with his and dripped down your thighs, some dripping down to your swollen clit. You curl into a ball after he pulls out, sensitive and ready to pass out. Not once have you had five orgasms repeatedly. It was like you had been factory reset.
“Look at me,” you weakly look at him, his eyes soft and full of love. The same way he looks at you during slow mornings, the same way he looks at you when he’s watching you focus on the book you had been reading, the same way he looked at you when you went on an hour rant about how the ending of Pretty Little Liars sucked and how you could’ve written it better. He was truly, madly, and deeply in love with you.
“I’m sorry if anything in my actions made you think I would cheat on you, darling. I never want you to feel like you’re not good enough.” His forehead rested against yours, rubbing your noses together. “If you want to look through my phone or bank records, you absolutely can. I have nothing to hide from you.” His voice not once wavered, which was normally a telltale sign of his lying, and he doesn’t lie often. Only when he’s trying to keep a surprise a secret, or planning something for you, and he’s horrible at it. He was being sincere, and that made you feel guilty that you chose to believe a random dm from a fake account over your boyfriend of three years.
“No, I’m sorry. You never did anything, papa. I don’t know why I overreacted like that. Don’t be mad at me.” He placed kisses on each cheek, your forehead, your nose, your chin, and finally your mouth. His kisses dizzying your head, his tongue tangled with yours, soft sighs leaving his mouth.
“I mean it when I tell you I love you.”
You nodded, “I know. I love you, too.” He pulled you close, still giving you room to curl back up in your ball and sleep in his arms, reminding him of a spoiled house cat.
your husband had been exhibiting some unusual behavior recently.
Michael x blackfem!reader
content. smut MDNI, circa 1995 HIStory! era, breeding kink, cowgirl!position, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex, talks of pregnancy, Michael wants to be a papa and make you a mommy
wc. 2.7k ── .✦
note. this lowkey a bit late but ignore it. never written smut but we’re tryin! (was forced)
You knew Michael wanted to have a baby. Well in his words eighteen babies. It was something you had known for a long time, something encoded into his very being. He always spoke about it– wistful about a life with a bunch of mini you’s and him’s running around the house, filling it with life and joy. He wanted it more than anything but more importantly, he wanted that with you.
You yourself hadn’t given much thought about having kids thinking that it was something that would just happen when it did on its own timeline.
All that to say you noticed that your husband had been exhibiting some weird behaviors recently. Starting with one evening when you got home from running errands, stepping into the house, kicking off your heels, and hanging up your coat.
“Baby you home?” you called into the open space of the foyer, your voice echoing back to you. Hearing noise from the kitchen you step through the threshold met with Michael scrubbing around the counters and a spotless kitchen. And not spotless on a surface level. Even the spots you often avoided when you cleaned were scrubbed to perfection.
Upon noticing you Michael turned around quickly, a large smile on his face seeing you standing there. “Hey mama.” he dropped the sponge in the sink and made his way around the counter towards you.
“Hello…what's all this?” you gestured to the newly cleaned kitchen as he moved to stand in front of you granting you a peck to your lips which you instantly melted into.
“What do you mean?” his arms smoothed around your waist, one large palm resting on your stomach and the other on your lower back pulling your body closer to his.
“I mean the kitchen, I don’t think it’s been this clean since you had it cleaned when we moved in.”
“I dunno, I just wanted it to be clean in here. You never know.” that caused you to furrow your brows confused. Never know what? He didn’t explain further but after that day, he insisted that the kitchen stayed spotless at all times. He even moved things around such as the knives from the counter and– were those new cabinet handles? The once sharp protruding fixtures exchanged for something rounded and safer.
The next instance was when you woke up one morning hand reaching to the other end of the bed for Michael, your hand only meeting lukewarm silk sheets instead. You sat up in bed and noticed noise coming downstairs.
Making your way towards the sound, you register the music playing softly from the speaker. And your husband sitting on the floor, a bunch of boxes and stuff piled around him with his focus on what looked like a photo album in hand. He didn’t notice you standing there so you moved closer, your footsteps alerting him.
“Oh hey mama- I was just…uh spring cleaning?” he smiled sheepishly as your eyes wandered over the mess he's made of the living room. He promised he’d clean it up and waved the book in his hands beckoning you closer to look. He had been looking at a photo of him and his brothers. A little Marlon and Jermaine were rolling about in snow hats and gloves bundling them up and off to the side– a little Michael arms out in front of him with a wary look on his face– like he was gonna be dragged in any second. You let out a little laugh pointing at him as Michael pulled you down into his lap while you two sat on the floor looking at more photos. You asked him if he was okay noticing the wistful looks that would cross his face, his brows pulling down sadly and eyes drooping.
“Yeah I’m okay, just feelin’ nostalgic.”
As time progressed you noticed more and more things changing around the house– all Michaels doing. Your laundry detergent switched out for something hypoallergenic and sensitive, keeping the house stocked with essential items (plus some), rearranging everything in the house claiming things were “more efficient this way”. When he found time to do all this you weren’t sure. He even got rid of some of his things that he no longer used– things he'd been hoarding, things you begged him to get rid of. You could admit the house felt more spacious this way. But then you noticed the covers on the outlets and that's when things started to click in your mind.
The books you found half haphazardly shoved in different places around the house, almost hidden. Baby books – a range of topics. And that's when it hit you.
Michael was nesting.
It all made sense now, all his behavior over the last couple weeks, his nostalgia and wistful looks, the lingering touches on your belly. It made you smile when you thought about it. Michael was preparing for a baby you two hadn't even talked about having yet. You knew that, if he asked, you wouldn’t be opposed to a child and that he’d be the best father in the world to your baby. You trusted that much.
The only part about this whole thing that bothered you is that Michael wouldn’t talk to you like he normally did when something was up with him. It wasn’t until the next time you two had sex that you got the answers you wanted. It was around seven pm. Fathers Day was today.
Michael had just got home and you were on him as soon as he came through the door causing him to stumble a bit as he wrapped his arms around your waist to steady you. “Woah…baby?” he spoke with his lips half pressed against yours.
“Jus miss you s’much.” you hummed moving kisses slowly down his neck, mouthing against the sensitive skin. Michael was very vocal anytime you two had sex always making the prettiest noises for you, noises that went straight down south and pooling into your panties. God you needed him so bad.
He wasted no time, hands snaking down your back, caressing the smooth silk of your nightgown. You felt his large hands smooth over your ass cupping the flesh and squeezing twice signalling.
“Jump.” and he catches you, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Your lips don’t part once as he gently lays you on the plush bed, your nightgown riding up when he slots his hips right between yours. You open your legs wider, hands rubbing up his chest and over his back and he lets out low whines.
He pressed his erection into you, grinding slow and needy, the fabric of his slacks causing friction on your clit through your panties. His mouth collides with yours messy and desperate and you meet him with the same intensity tilting your hips to grind further into him.
“Mm need to feel you, please? Can I?” Michael begs hands moving to the hem of your nightgown already pulled far too high to be appropriate. Not that you cared one bit. Some things never changed Michael still asking for permission to touch you as if you haven’t been married for years.
“Please Michael– touch me please.”
His hands, hands you’ve always had a fixation on, big with long slender fingers, gently disappeared under your slip, the pads of his fingers barely touching your skin as his hands traveled up your body. He stopped at your breast and pressed his palm firmly into you, his hands catching on your nipple causing you to arch into him, your heartbeat fluttering against his palm.
“Michael please.” your hands fisted in his shirt begging him to quit teasing. You didn’t think you could take much of it.
“Mm’sorry.” he pulled your gown up and over your head exposing your body to him fully. And he just stared at you for a moment like he was trying to capture the moment and savour it. Like he was so grateful to be here in this moment with you.
And he was.
“You’re so beautiful mama.” he bent his head down to your neck, his lips soft as they kissed and nipped the skin there. Your back arched, hands threading into his soft hair at the nape of his neck as he moved down yours. You tried to subtly direct his mouth where you wanted him the most but he just took his time planting kisses on all your exposed skin.
“I can’t take much more of the teasing Michael.” you began but was cut off by the wet heat of his mouth finally meeting your nipple, sucking around the flesh as your back arched off the bed and into his mouth. A shudder wracked its way up your spine, the pleasure getting to you as his other hand came up to tweak at your other nipple. The dual stimulation caused you to grind your core into his lap and hard on and Michael detached his mouth from you letting out a groan, eyes squeezing shut.
He was finding it harder and harder to go slow with you. To be a gentleman the way he wanted to.
“Fuck-” Michael rarely cursed and hearing his voice broke on the words like he just couldn’t help himself, it turned you on more than anything.
“Need to taste you.” he didn’t ask this time, just moved down your body, hands moving to the center of your panties, his thumb dipping in and rubbing at your folds gently feeling how wet you were for him. His big brown doe eyes stared up at you as his thumb caught on your clit and you were finding it hard to keep composure.
“You're so wet, this all f’me?” you nodded and his lip caught between his teeth as he finally tugged on your panties, his stare focused on the wet string of your arousal connecting the cotton to your folds. When you were completely bare for him, he didn’t tear his eyes away from your pussy.
To him, he'd never seen a more beautiful sight, one that deserved to be admired. He ran his hands up your trembling thighs, spreading you wider for him and took his ring and middle finger pressing one to your entrance and the other to your clip spreading your arousal around teasing you further.
You whimper your hands finding his, not knowing if you wanted to pull him closer or push him away.
But you knew you wanted more. When his fingers finally rubbed small circles into your clit, the stimulation built on maddeningly and you melted into his touch.
“Mikey… hmm.”
“I know baby, wan’ you to feel so good.” he looked like he was getting so much pleasure from just pleasuring you, his head falling back a bit but keeping his eyes on you.
“Need more, wanna feel you. I can’t wait.” he spoke, words frantic against the skin of your thigh. You nodded, beginning to tug at his belt, hands quickly unbuttoning his slacks and pushing his boxers down his thighs, the material getting caught.
You huffed air, struggling to remove his clothes like you needed and he just took your hands in his with a smile. “Lemme do it.” he began slowly stripping out his clothes, your eyes eating up every inch of his exposed skin.
Once he was free of his clothes you didn’t waste much more time grabbing him and swapping your positions till his back met the bed and you straddled his hips. He was hard under you and you grinded your pussy down on him, hands on his chest. His hands met your hips, positioning one hand over your lower stomach while you grinded chasing the friction as he slipped between your folds. He didn’t try to control your movements, just guide them.
“You feel so good baby, wanna be inside you, need it.” he spoke through pants hips tilting up to meet yours feeling your slick coating him. You were so wet and it was driving him insane. His head had been in one spot for the past couple weeks.
He wanted a baby.
And as you squatted over him fisting his cock in your hand he wanted nothing more than to make you a mommy.
The lewd sound of his tip breaching your entrance had something locking in the base of Michael's spine. He was fighting so hard to not just drag you down fully, wanting to let you take your time, set your own pace.
“Michael– shit.” your head tipped back, knees shaking from the struggle of holding yourself up. You closed the distance between you two sliding down, the pressure of his cock against your slick walls was maddening. He felt so good. You were a moaning mess by the time your hips were flush to his.
“Yeah jus like that- y’feel so good inside angel.” he took that big hand and rubbed at your stomach again, eyes glued there, like he was seeing something there that you weren’t. You started to grind your clit against him slowly tilting forward.
You noticed that something was bothering Michael and that he wasn’t fully in the moment.
“What is it baby?” you tried your best to steady your voice, the pleasure overwhelming you.
“Was jus thinkin’ about–” he trailed off, turning his head to the side avoiding your eyes sheepishly, his nervous habit of biting his bottom lip coming out as his tongue peeked from his mouth.
“Michael, I know you wanna have a baby.” his head snapped back to yours, big eyes wide baring into yours like his secret had been exposed.
“And I want to have one with you.” you let sincerity bleed into your voice smiling down at him.
“How about– more than one?” he gripped your hips, their movements slowing and you swear you felt him twitch in you at his own words. You let out a laugh leaning down capturing his lips in a passionate kiss.
“How about we just focus on the one first okay?” he nodded and smiled bright at you like you’d just made his day. Or his whole life. With that out of the way, your hips began to pick up pace, riding him like you wanted to, movements frantic as pressure built up again.
You let out a surprised sound as Michael placed a hand behind your head, flipping you onto your back. His hands gripped under your knees pressing them up up until they met your chest exposing you completely.
A mating press.
“I read somewhere–” he grinded his hips into you deeper, the new angle changing the feeling entirely. “That this was the best position to conceive.” your breath hitched, and you moaned out as he stretched you further. You're gripping at his shoulders with his head buried into your neck, lips letting out soft noises as his hips start to rut into yours.
Michael knew he wasn’t going to last long when he got you in this position. The feeling of you clenching around him and just the thought of putting a baby in you too much to bear. He was so close, his hips getting more erratic by the second.
The orgasm you’d been working your way up to was just on the edge of your spine and Michael knew so he kept his current pace, steady and his finger trailed up your body to rub your clit. “Fuck Michael m’so close!” your body felt like a live wire on the edge of shorting out.
“Let go momma I got you. Gonna look so good with our baby. You want that? Wan’ me to put a baby here?” his other hand came up to caress your stomach, his words driving you insane.
“Yes Michael please! Wanna have ‘ur baby!” your high pitched moans urging him on further. It was that that made him lose it, hips stuttering as the pleasure overwhelmed him, spilling inside your cunt with deep grinds and whimpers. You followed just seconds later tremors wracking your body while you whined coming undone and soaking his lap.
After you’d calmed down a bit with Michael still inside you while cum drooled from where you two were joined, you sighed out a content sound as you two breathed together, skin still damp from sweat and exhaustion.
Summary: Dating is going great but there are a few concerning issues that spring up in your relationship that has you questioning a few things. Michael is quick to put an end to that though the method may be a little sinister.
Era/Tag: OTW-Thriller!Michael x Blackfem!reader
Warnings: Mild violence, threatening of self-harm, manipulation, yandere Michael, ooc for Michael, threatening
You and your boyfriend had been together for a year. Then, one day, he came home, frantically packing his stuff, saying he was going to make it big. He told you that he was at work when he got a call saying someone wanted him on the East Coast and would pay for his stay and auditions for a Broadway show. It’s been 2 years since that, and now you’ve heard that he was missing.
The 70s weren't the safest, but that did not stop you from being questioned by the police. They were really nice about the conversation, knowing that he had told multiple people, including his family, about his plans.
The experience still left you with an odd feeling in your chest, something that you carried around so much that your friend, Latoya, was over your moody atmosphere. She made sure that you were going out with her tonight. You’d already been told that it was safe as long as you stayed close to the Jacksons. Encino was the home of legends; the homes were big, the grass was always green, and the streets were clear. There was never any danger here, especially when you were with Latoya.
Though you and Michael were not the closest, you saw each other frequently when you had just moved into the neighborhood. He was the type to watch. He never spoke much in your circle, but his big brown eyes saw everything. His presence seemed to grow stronger the more popular he got, but to you, it intensified once your ex went missing. Michael seemed to be everywhere and far more comfortable while around you.
Your relationship started with conversations. His fingers played with the ends of your curls as you spent hours speaking to him about any and everything. Next thing you know, he was showing you the soundboard in his studio. The hands that grabbed you to pull you into his lap were not hovering as if he lost courage.
It wasn't long before you both started dating, with Michael confessing to you one night. He made sure that your eyes were closed before he worked up the courage to say that he had loved you for a very long time. You could hear his feet shuffle side to side as he shifted his weight, no doubt nervous about your response. You never did understand why he was so nervous, not when you were clearly into him, so it was no hardship to say ‘yes’ to his confession.
Michael was perfect. He's so sweet, treating you to everything from spontaneous dates to small gifts. He loved holding you whenever he got the chance. The first thing he did after a studio session or a video recording was to call you or even show up at your doorstep, ready to lie on your chest to sleep. Michael was very protective, but he never made it uncomfortable. When someone had your attention for too long, he would try his hardest to bring your mind back to him. His lips would wander, followed by his hands, then little whimpers in your ear. It never failed to make you melt, leaving his face covered in your lipstick that he often refused to wipe off. He was just too easy to love and breathe around.
You were so blindsided by the look in his pretty doe eyes that it wasn’t until a year later that you noticed that Michael had some very strange habits.
Like when you would be around other people, Michael’s body would twitch. His hands would hold you so tight that it would start the beginnings of bruises. Michael has also been caught more than once stealing and sniffing your panties. The creepy moments were eclipsed by his most bizarre, yet semi-violent behavior: him muttering threats to others while you slept or when he thought you couldn’t hear.
It was not uncommon to hear him in your ear at night, speaking low and dark about how he would ‘get rid’ of anyone who looked at his girl. How hard he had to work to get you and how you’ll always be his. His breath fanned your cheek as his hands became more urgent, his hips rocking into your ass.
The longer your relationship seemed to be, the more of these instances became apparent. You ignored everything from his slight manipulation to the tantrums he would throw when you weren’t as close as he needed you to be. You just chalked it up to him being his adorable clingy self, as this was his first real relationship.
Michael had other thoughts about the matter. To him, you were his angel, and he was going to clip your wings so that you could never fly away from him. How could he not when you were practically made for him?
The street lamp guided him to you, and there you were wearing his varsity jacket that was clearly stolen from Latoya and somehow ended up with you. The skirt you wore was so short that you looked naked. It was then that it clicked in his mind: you were wearing his brand. You were always his, and by looking so heavenly, it was clear that he was made to worship you.
Michael was not worried that you had a boyfriend. That man was just a rock in his road to you, and getting rid of your loser boyfriend was nothing. He had the resources and the charm enough to make sure that he would never be in the picture.
It wasn’t long before you were in his orbit. Then “Off the Wall” took off and then Thriller exploded. He was needed everywhere that he didn’t want to be.
However, the new level of fame brought on privileges that he never had before with his family fame. So when he heard about your little boy toy that was not treating you right, he knew that he needed to get involved, and he did. Now, you were here. Letting him be who you needed and keeping you safe in his orbit.
Michael was sure that he had you wrapped up in such bliss that you never realized that he was now your only way out. So imagine his surprise when he saw you going through his diary. A secret place where he detailed every plan to get you.
“Michael…. What is this?” You whispered out. You couldn’t even look at him.
“Don’t worry about that.” his presence suddenly became closer. You flinched slightly when he snatched the book back and quickly hid it in another part of the desk that had a lock on it. “That’s not important…. D-did I scare you? I was going to tell you but I…”His voice trailed off when he saw the expression on your face.
You looked at him like you’ve never seen the real Michael.
He sighed heavily, putting on a charming smile and opening his arms to you. “Mama, come here. You’re scaring me.” He said while walking toward you.
You stepped back enough that you could put a hand up to his chest, not quite close enough to touch but enough for him to stop. “Don’t come near me.”
Your voice quivered. The implications of the situation were something that you never would have associated with your sweet boyfriend. “Michael… is that diary true? Did you kill my ex just to get together with me? Did you plan all this, including a way to lock me in your room?”
The question lingered in the air. It seemed as if your world had crashed, and the look in Michael’s eyes was enough to tell you that this life was ending. Drawing a deep breath, you shuffle enough to see the door to his room.
Michael’s smile strained as his fist closed and opened. “You’re not leaving me.”
"I did not say that."
"No, but you thought it. I can see it because I know you!"
You raised a placating hand, “Michael, this is serious. You're scaring me! I think this is too much. I think we both need to cool down.“
Michael rushed forward, wrapping a hand around your throat with tears streaking down his face. His lips quivered as he inhaled, as if air was new to his lungs. “Don’t you ever say that again.”
His hand tightened on your throat, and a sob left his chest. “Y-you love me. You told me you loved me. You can never stop loving me. I won’t let you. NO! YOU ARE NOT LEAVING ME! I WOULD LET YOU!” Michael let go of your throat and rushed to the dresser that was near the window of his room.
Your breath hitched as you saw what he grabbed from the top drawer. “Michael, this isn’t funny! Put the knife down!”
Tears flooded his face as he blinked rapidly; the knife was only inches from his throat. “You can’t leave… You can’t. I-I know I'm a monster, but PLEASE! I'M SORRY! I know I shouldn’t have hurt you, but please!”
“Michael,” you put your hands up while walking slowly to him, only for him to back himself up against the wall. “Baby, stop this.”
Michael shakes his head, making your heart lurch as the knife barely scrapes his sensitive skin. “NO! You’re gonna leave me. I need you! I-I love you…I lo-love you so much!” His hiccups only made the knife more and more unstable, causing you to freeze when you spotted the red of his blood rising out of a small cut.
“I’m not leaving. I wouldn’t leave, baby. Just put it down and come here.”
Michael’s grip on the handle loosened enough for you to rush forward and throw the knife away from both of you. Michael was shaking when he wrapped his arms around you, leaving a damp spot on your shirt as he cried into your neck. “I’m sorry. I’ll be better, just please don’t leave me.”
Your hand gripped his shirt tightly as the other one patted the base of his hair. “I’m here, Michael. Please don’t ever do that again. My heart cannot take you being hurt.”
You felt a nod before more sniffles sounded in your ear, “I won’t, mama. I’ll be better a-and treat better than anyone you’ve ever met. I’ll never do anything that you don’t like. Just stay with me.”
Michael locked eyes with the door standing behind you. There was no way you knew what was in there, but you would soon enough. He was just one step closer to having you forever, and now that he had tested your loyalty and your heart, he knew it was time for his plans to escalate. He knew that you loved him too much ever to allow him to hurt himself, and he also knew that this was the perfect way to keep you in this grasp. There was no way he would allow you to leave him, and he needed to make sure that the thought would never cross your mind again.
He’s going to make you so deep in love with him and only him that you would agree with the plans in his diary. Michael estimated that by the end of the year, the only place you’ll ever want to stay is the room that he built especially for you just on the side of his own. The plans were drawn up years ago with you in mind, and when he had Hayvenhurst remodeled, it was something that he took charge of personally. He collected every one of your likes and dislikes. He handpicked and put together every decoration and every piece of furniture. He made sure that the room was padded enough to be safe and bolted from the outside, but most of all, he was sure that you were going to love it, just as much as he loved you.
imagine a sleepover w/ nerd maj. you have a wet dream about him while you’re in the same bed. you reach for him in your sleep and you quickl realize that it’s real life 🤭
ᥫ᭡ fai speaks: finally getting around to clearing out my reqs. y’all, i’m trying with the smut fr LOL, im cringing internally but i hope yall enjoyyyy
you and jermajesty had been friends for a while now. you met through a mutual friend. over time, you grew so close it was crazy. texting throughout the day, on facetime all night, soon came the random hangouts. sleepovers weren’t even unnatural for the two of you.
but this new crush you’d developed on him? was.
you weren't blind. you saw the way he looked at you. you noticed the way he licked his lips that one morning when you reached for something in the top cabinet and your silk nightgown raised up just a little bit.
you felt the way his hand lingered on the small of your back whenever y'all walked through crowded spaces, or how his hands gripped your waist to guide you when he moved past you. and you definitely remembered that time you were at a function, and started dancing on him. he had leaned down, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered, "chill, i’m easy."
you had just laughed it off back then. because you were just friends. right? friends held hands. friends cuddled. friends slept in the same bed. that’s what you kept telling yourself, over and over, trying to force your brain to believe it.
you tried your hardest to push all thoughts of him out of your head before he came over. he had planned a movie night since obsessed had finally hit streaming platforms.
you tried not to think about how good he looked when his jawline was rough with stubble because he was growing out his goatee again. you tried not to think about how much you wanted to bite those thick biceps, or how badly you wanted to taste his soft, pink, pillowy lips.
you tried. you really did.
but as the movie credits started rolling in your dark bedroom, it became damn near impossible. jermajesty was fast asleep, heavy and warm against you. his head was resting right on your chest, dangerously close to your neck. hearing the soft, steady sound of his breathing against your skin made your chest tight.
eventually, you closed your eyes and drifted into a sleep of your own, hoping a nap would help stop the aching between your legs. oh, but you were so wrong. because the second your eyes closed, your mind took you right back to him, and you started dreaming about exactly what jermajesty could do to you.
in the dream, you’re wearing the same silk nightgown. the champagne colored one you wore because you know he likes it. his fingers are tracing the hem. lifting it higher and higher.
your hips move before your conscious mind catches up.
it’s a subtle thing at first. just a slow shuffle backwards. the kind of motion your body remembers from solo nights with your vibrator between your thighs.
the friction is blocked by layers of fabric but it’s there. enough to make your breathing change. enough to make the ache between your legs pulse.
“maj,” you breathe.
the word slips out before you can stop it, thick with sleep.
his body tenses behind you and his eyes snap open.
for a second, he’s disoriented. the ceiling fan spinning lazy circles, the blue glow of the tv casting shadows across the room. then he feels it. your ass pressed against him, grinding.
a sound escapes your lips, making his dick twitch in his sweats, blood rushing south so fast it leaves him lightheaded.
“jermajesty.”
his name. you’re saying his name. in your sleep. while your hips work against him in a rhythm that’s getting less subtle by the second.
he should wake you up.
he knows he should wake you up.
but then you whimper, a high, breathy sound that goes straight to his dick—and his hand is moving before his brain can even tell him not to. his palm finds your hip and rests there.
“maj, baby,” you murmur, still asleep. still dreaming.
he raised himself up on one elbow, looking down at you. your lashes are fanned against your cheeks. your lips are slightly parted. the thin strap of your nightgown slipping off your shoulder.
fuck.
he’s been attracted to you since he met you. he’s just never been man enough to do anything about it. he’s was too scared of ruining the friendship. too convinced you didn’t see him that way. but now you’re moaning his name in your sleep and your hips are moving like you’re trying to fuck yourself back against him.
his hand slides from your hip to the hem of your nightgown. slowly, giving you time to wake up. giving himself time to come to his senses.
neither of you does, btw.
the air hits your exposed thighs and you shiver, pressing back harder. he can feel the heat of you through your panties. his fingers trace the waistband of your panties lightly.
you don’t stir. your breathing stays deep and even, but your hips stutter when his thumb brushes the sensitive skin just beneath the elastic.
he moves the fabric aside.
the first touch is barely there—just the pad of his middle finger, tracing the seam of you. he circles your clit gently and your whole body reacts. your hips buck forward like you’re chasing the pressure, then back. directly against his dick, which is straining so hard against his sweats now that it’s almost painful.
“fuck,” he breathes against your hair. “you have no idea.”
he continues the slow circles. steady pressure. he watches your face. the way your brow furrows, the way your mouth falls open a little wider. your breathing hitches again when he increases the speed, just slightly, just enough to make your thighs tense.
“fuck baby,” you moan.
and this time, your eyes fly open.
reality crashes in all at once. his fingers are inside you. two of them, curled just right, stroking that spot that makes your vision blur at the edges. his other arm is snaked around your torso, pinning you against his chest, and his fingers are working your nipple through the silk, rolling and pinching.
this is real. this is actually happening.
“maj—oh.”
your head falls back against his shoulder as your mouth opens. his fingers pumping inside you, his other hand torturing your nipple—is too much and it’s not enough. and at the same time, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.
“you’re dripping,” he murmurs directly into your ear. his voice is wrecked. low and rough in a way you’ve never heard it. “been dreaming about me, mama?”
you can’t form words. your hips are rolling to meet his thrusts now, fucking yourself on his fingers like you were doing in your sleep. the wet sounds filling the room are obscene.
“tell me to stop,” he says. his fingers slow. “tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop.”
“don’t stop.” your voice breaks. “baby, please don’t stop.”
he groans against your neck and his fingers push back inside you, three this time, stretching you in a way that makes you gasp and grip his forearm.
“you’re so sexy,” he breathes. still pumping. “you drive me crazy, you know that? you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this.”
your back arches. your hips buck. his name is a prayer you keep repeating, over and over, each thrust of his fingers pushing you closer.
“maj, please.”
“please what, baby?”
“fuck me. please fuck me.”
he takes away his fingers but before you can complain, he’s bringing them to your lips. shiny with your own slick, glistening in the tv light.
your mouth opens and his fingers slide past your lips and you taste yourself on his skin. you suck them clean, tongue lapping between his knuckles, eyes fluttering shut at the intimacy of it.
“shit,” he hisses. “you’re gonna kill me.”
then his hand is on your jaw, turning your face toward his, and his mouth crashes against yours.
the kiss is nothing like you imagined. it’s not gentle. it’s not hesitant. it’s teeth and tongue and the desperate press of lips that have wanted this for too long. his hand tightens on your jaw, angling your head so he can go deeper, and you moan into his mouth and grip the back of his neck and pull him closer, but somehow it still isn’t close enough.
when he breaks the kiss, you’re both breathing like you’ve run a marathon.
he helps you wrestle your gown off, tossing it somewhere into the dark. his sweats follow. boxers too. then he’s moving, positioning himself between your legs, and you can finally see him.
all of him.
the tip slick and flushed, pressed against your stomach as he leans over you. his chest is heaving.
“you sure?” he asks, giving you one last out.
“i’ve never been more sure of anything.”
he kisses you again. softer this time. then his hands are on your hips, dragging you down the mattress, positioning you beneath him like you weigh nothing. he reaches between your bodies, gripping himself, running the head of his cock through your wetness. one. twice. rubbing himself against your clit on the third pass until your thighs shake.
“fuck, mama,” he groans, looking down at where your bodies almost meet. “this pussy’s so wet.”
the words hit you low in your belly. you’ve heard him say wild things before but this is different. this is him talking to you.
he pushes in.
slow. inch by inch. stretching you out so good that your mouth drops open and your nails dig into his shoulders and every thought in your head dissolves into static.
“look at me,” he says.
you didn’t realize your eyes had closed.
they open and his face is above you, jaw tight, sweat already beading at his temple. he’s holding himself back—you can feel it in the tremor of his arms.
“there you go,” he breathes. his forehead drops to yours. “there you go. look at me, mama.“
he bottoms out.
a shudder passes through both of you.
his mouth seals over yours and he begins to move.
the kiss swallows your moans as he fucks into you. deep strokes. slow at first, because he’s savoring it. your head falls back but his lips chase yours, refusing to let the kiss break for more than a heartbeat. his hips roll. your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his back, pulling him deeper.
you let out a moan when he thrusts harder, hitting a spot that makes sparks pop behind your eyes.
“right there,” you whimper. “baby, right there, please—”
his hand slides down your thigh, hiking your leg higher over his arm. the new angle is devastating. every stroke now drags against your g-spot, him pulsing with each squeeze of your walls around him.
the sounds in the room are filthy. skin slapping skin. the wet suck of you pulling him back in each time he withdraws. his name tumbling from your lips in a chant that’s getting louder, needier, less coherent.
“you close?” he pants.
“yes. yes, maj.”
“let me feel it. come on, mama, i got you.”
his thumb finds your clit.
your body obeys before your brain catches up.
the orgasm hits you like a wave. your back arches off the mattress. your nails rake down his back. a sound tears from your throat that you’ve never made before, something between a sob and his name.
he fucks you through it. chasing his own high now, rhythm stuttering, moans catching in his chest.
“where—” he grunts. “where do you want—”
“inside. cum inside me—”
a groan rips from his chest. his hips slam forward one last time and you feel him pulse. his face buried in the crook of your neck, his teeth sinking into the sensitive skin where your shoulder meets your throat, and he rides out the aftershocks with little thrusts that make you both gasp.
for a long moment, neither of you moves.
his weight is crushing you in the best way. you can feel his heartbeat hammering against your chest—or maybe that’s yours.
he lifts his head. his eyes finding yours.
“you’re not gonna wake up tomorrow and pretend this was just a dream, are you?”
your hand comes up to cup his jaw. you run your thumb over his bottom lip, swollen from kissing. “you’re still inside me, maj. i’m pretty sure I’m not dreaming.”
he laughs. low and breathless. then he kisses you—soft this time. tender. a kiss that makes your stomach swoop in a way that’s entirely different from the sex.
he pulls out slowly. then he rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re draped across his chest, and his hand comes up to stroke your hair.
“we should talk about this,” he murmurs.
“probably.”
silence settles over the room. comfortable again. his fingers trace patterns on your spine. your breathing steadies.
“but not right now.”
“not right now,” you agree.
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