It all depends on you @missharper33 - Tumblr Blog

Where are the Jermaine fics

I need filthy Michael smut!!

Edit: I also need more Marlon, Jermaine, and Tito!!!!

@fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @multifandomposts-blog @divaaprincess @michaelssugarbby @brownsugarletters @blkkbratt @narratedillusions @theonlyonlinefish @curlypytclubx

#black!reader #black tumblr #black!fem!reader #black women #black!writer #michael jackson x black reader #michael jackson x black!reader #michael jackson #michael jackson smut

douceurrrr

we can’t ignore all these blk dying in Mississippi

michaelssugarbby

people are disappearing! Like where dem fans at??? But we know why tho😒😒

malepeacock

˗ˏˋ WEDDING NIGHT ˎˊ˗ - JAAFAR J

ʚ This is based off this vid 😩

ʚ pairing: jaafar x blackfem!reader

ʚ warning: smut, explicit content, marriage, multiple orgasms, oral (fem and male receiving), fingering, anal, usage of toys, squirting

The satin of your gown whispered against the hardwood floor of the church vestibule, a sound so delicate it might have been a secret.

Janet had pressed her palm to her chest when you stepped out of the dressing room three weeks ago, tears welling in her eyes before she could say a word.

Now, standing in the doorway of the reception hall, you watched your guests spill across the dance floor under soft golden light, and you felt that same quiet certainty humming in your bones.

Paris grabbed your wrist, her champagne glass tilting precariously. "You know he's been staring at you for the last fifteen minutes straight, right?"

You didn't have to ask who. The weight of Jaafar's gaze had been pressing against the back of your neck. "I'm aware," you murmured, keeping your eyes fixed on Genevieve's.

Your thighs pressed together beneath layers of tulle and silk.

Genevieve snorted. "Girl, if my husband looked at me like that in public, we'd have a situation."

You risked a glance across the room. Big mistake.

Jaafar stood near the head table, one hand loose in his pocket, his bow tie undone and hanging against the crisp white of his shirt collar. He wasn't smiling.

His mouth sat in that particular line and his eyes tracked you with the patience of someone who had already made up his mind about how the evening was going to end.

When you met his gaze, his eyebrow lifted. Your breath caught somewhere between your ribs and your throat.

You turned back to Paris and Genevieve, your heartbeat suddenly too loud. "I'm going to need another glass of champagne."

The hours that followed became a careful choreography of avoidance. You danced with his brothers, posed for photographs with cousins whose names you were still learning.

And through all of it, you felt him. Circling. Waiting. His fingers would brush your lower back as he passed, a touch so fleeting it might have been accidental. It wasn't.

By the time the last guests trickled out, your nerves had wound themselves into something sharp and buzzing.

The car ride home stretched thick with silence. Streetlights slid across his profile in steady pulses, illuminating the set of his jaw, the way his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel whenever he glanced your way.

You pressed your forehead to the cool window and pretended to sleep. Your pulse hammered against your temple.

His hand on your thigh told you he wasn't fooled.

The front door had barely clicked shut before his fingers found the zipper at the small of your back. "Jaafar—" you started, hearing the breathiness in your own voice, the weak protest you didn't mean.

"Don't." The dress pooled at your feet. His mouth found the curve where your neck met your shoulder, and the last shred of your resolve dissolved. "You've been running from me all night."

"We could watch a movie." Your head fell back against his chest, your body betraying you completely. "Save everything for tomorrow, when we're not so—"

His laugh was a warm vibration against your spine. "Tired? Is that what you were going to say?"

"Yes." A gasp punched out of you as his teeth grazed your earlobe.

"You're a terrible liar." His hands slid around your waist, fingers splaying across the delicate lace of your lingerie. "I've been thinking about this since you walked down that aisle. Since before that."

He turned you to face him, and the intensity in his dark eyes made your knees forget their purpose. "Tell me you don't want this, and we'll watch whatever movie you want."

The words wouldn't come. Couldn't. Not with him looking at you like you were the only thing in the world worth seeing.

"That's what I thought."

His mouth was on yours before you could breathe.

The kiss was hungry, desperate, all the hours of waiting crashing together at once.

His tongue slid against yours, his hands fisted in the silk of your dress, his hips pressed hard against your belly.

You could feel him already hard, already straining and the knowledge that he'd been like this all night.

Jaafar—"

"Bedroom. Now." His voice was wrecked. "Before I take you right here."

"Maybe I want you right here."

"You don't." He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes black in the dim light.

"Because when I take you, I want you in our bed, where I can spread you out and take my time. I waited all day. I'm not rushing this."

He took your hand and led you toward the bedroom, and you let him, your heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears.

The hallway seemed longer than it ever had before, the door to the master suite somehow impossibly far away.

And then you were inside, and he was closing the door behind you, and the bedside lamp was on, casting the room in a warm golden glow.

You were standing before him in nothing but your white lace strapless bra, your matching lace thong.

"Fuck," he breathed. "You're so—fuck."

"You've seen me before."

"Not like this. Not with—" He swallowed hard, his eyes roaming over you like he was memorizing every inch. "Not with my ring on your finger. Not as my wife."

"Jaafar." Your voice came out as a whisper. "I want you."

He practically ripped his own clothes off. His shirt, already unbuttoned, went flying. His pants and underwear followed.

And then he was on you again, his bare skin against yours, his hands everywhere at once, cupping your breasts, sliding down your stomach, reaching around to grip your ass.

"I want to taste you first." He was already kissing down your throat, your collarbone, the swell of your breast above the lace. "I want to taste you everywhere."

He guided you back onto the bed, his body following you down, his mouth never leaving your skin.

He unhooked your bra with one hand and then his lips were on your nipple, sucking, his teeth grazing the sensitive peak until you writhed beneath him.

His hand slid down your stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your thong.

He pulled it down slowly, deliberately, his mouth still working your breast.

The lace dragged across your skin, and then you were bare before him, your body on display like an offering.

"Look at you." His voice was rough with desire. "So beautiful. So perfect. My wife."

"Your wife," you echoed, and the word sent another pulse of heat straight to your core.

He knelt between your thighs, spreading them wide, and just looked at you for a long moment.

The lamp light gilded his skin, his curls falling loose around his face, his lips parted.

Then he lowered his head and dragged his tongue through your folds, and you lost the ability to think.

He lapped at you like a man starving, his tongue delving into your entrance, then circling your clit with devastating precision.

His nose was pressed against your clit, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you open, and the sounds he made were almost as obscene as the sounds you were making.

"Oh my God—oh fuck—Jaafar—I'm already—"

His breath was hot against your swollen flesh. "Already close?"

You nodded not being able to speak from sensation.

"Good." He sucked your clit into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue, and the world went white.

Your orgasm hit you like a flash fire, your back arching off the bed, your fingers fisting in his hair.

He didn't stop. He kept licking, kept sucking, kept working you through every last wave of pleasure until you were trembling and gasping and trying to push his head away.

"Too much—I can't"

"You can." He lifted his head and looked at you, his lips glistening with your slick, his eyes completely black with want. "I'm not done with you yet."

He reached for the bedside drawer, and your breath caught as he grabbed the silicone vibrator he'd bought you three months ago, the one you'd used together only once before, the one that made your orgasms feel like detonations.

"Turn over," he said. "On your stomach."

You obeyed without thought, your body still shaking from the first orgasm.

You'd barely settled into position before he was behind you, one hand on your hip, the other positioning the toy at your entrance.

"Keep that pretty back arched for me."

You did. You arched your spine, presenting yourself to him, and he slid the vibrator inside you with one slow, relentless push.

The vibration hit a spot inside you that made your vision blur. He held it there, not moving it, just letting the deep, rumbling thrum work through you like a second pulse.

And then, without warning, he leaned down and dragged his tongue over you and you nearly launched off the bed.

"Fuck Jaafar—"

"Shhh." His palm came down on your ass with a sharp smack, then his tongue was back, lapping at your rear entrance with the same meticulous attention he'd given your cunt.

The dual sensation—the vibrator inside you, his tongue against your ass, his hand spanking you in rhythm—was so overwhelming it almost hurt.

He said between licks, "You ready for this?"

You'd done this with him before. Only twice, and both times it had been slow and careful and you'd both come so hard you'd seen stars for hours.

But now, with the vibrator still buzzing inside you and his tongue still teasing your rim, the idea of his thick cock stretching that forbidden entrance was enough to make you sob.

You heard the click of a bottle, you realized, he was getting the lube and the cold squeeze of liquid on your skin.

His fingers pressed against your rim, circling, stretching, and then one finger slid inside, then two.

The burn was sharp but manageable, and the way he moved them made the burn dissolve into something molten.

"Ready?" His voice was strained.

"Yes, I'm ready "

He positioned himself behind you, the head of his cock pressing against you.

You felt the heat of him, the size of him, and for a moment you were scared, he was big, and it had been a while but then he pushed forward, slow and steady, and your body opened for him like it always did.

"Oooooooh—fuck—Jaafar"

"That's it." His hands gripped your hips, his thumbs stroking your skin. "Take all of me, baby."

He didn't stop until he was fully seated, his groin flush against your ass, his cock buried to the hilt in you.

You could feel every inch of him, every vein and pulse, and the fullness was so complete it stole your breath.

He pulled out slowly, then thrust back in, and the sensation was devastating, pleasure and pain and pressure all at once, building and building until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. "You feel. you feel so fucking good."

His movements became harder, deeper, his hips slamming against your ass with a force that made the bed shake.

He reached around and found your clit, rubbing it in tight circles that matched his thrusts, and you felt your second orgasm rising like a tidal wave.

"Cum for me," he growled."

The wave crashed. You screamed into the mattress, your whole body convulsing.

He fucked you through it, groaning, and then, before you could even recover, he was pulling out and flipping you onto your back.

"My turn."

You'd lost count of how many times Jaafar made you cum. You'd lost track of where you ended and he began.

You'd lost everything except the feeling of him inside you, the sound of his skin against yours, the impossible, unrelenting pleasure that just kept building and building.

"Let go, baby. Let it all go.I'm right there with you."

Your vision went white, your body arching off the bed like a bow pulled too tight, and then you felt yourself gush, liquid heat spraying across his stomach and thighs as the pleasure detonated through you.

"That's the ravishing thing I've ever seen in my entire life." He leaned down and kissed you, hard and messy, his hips still pumping. "I'm going to um where do you want me."

"Inside me," you gasped. "I want it please."

He drove into you one last time, buried to the hilt, and came with a sound that was almost a roar.

He pulsed inside you, ropes of hot cum painting your walls.

You lay tangled together for a long moment, both of you too spent to move.

Your sheets were soaked. Your body was slick with sweat. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, mixing with your own wetness, dripping onto the mattress.

You'd never felt dirtier, filthier, more completely and utterly owned.

And you'd never felt more loved.

————-

Jaafar had pulled you into his arms, his chest pressed against your back, his face tucked into the curve of your neck.

His breathing was slowing, deepening, and you could feel his heart beating steadily against your spine.

You turned in his arms so you were facing him, your noses almost touching. His eyes were half-closed, his curls a disaster, his lips curved in a smile so warm it made your chest ache.

"I love you," you whispered.

"I love you too, Mrs. Jackson."

missharper33

The gasp I gasped while reading this😩😮‍💨

multifandomposts-blog

Brief little discussion about this because I really can't find it in my heart to give enough of a fuck to make an actual post about it. This was made in voice to text.

Y'all are so confusing. Some of y'all "fans" need to leave, and I mean, yesterday.

So, when I said that, okay, you write Jermajesty Jackson, you make him toxic, you make him a baby daddy, you make him a drug dealer, whatever. That's fine. It's fan fiction. I said, don't project that onto him in real life because then it's stereotyping.

Why do you assume that Black men are overly sexual or overly toxic and aggressive compared to white men, who are seen as softer? I made the example saying Jaafar, Randy Jr., and Maj himself, Jermajesty, are often oversexualized, while Prince and Bigi, who are near to the same ages, get over-infantized and treated like they'll forever be children. And that y'all are stereotyping Black men and making them toxic on purpose when you don't know their real personality.

Now, evidence or whatever it is, because I don't care enough to actually put myself in depth into the situation because I'm on a break. And I'm gonna take my break seriously and do what I need to do for my mental health, because this shit is just crazy all over again.

Now, it turns out, I guess, I don't know, that he is toxic in real life, or he does act the same way in real life as y'all were writing him in the fanfics, and now y'all are upset?

Maybe, I don't know. Maybe. Maybe I'm not, maybe it's because I'm not a fucking psycho.

Like, oh, did you notice that this celebrity unfollowed this celebrity, or this celebrity followed this celebrity?

So let me get this right. You're sitting down, right? Counting how many people the celebrities follow, writing down everybody who they follow, and memorizing everybody who they follow, and then you go and check every single day to see if the number has went up or down, and check who has been added and who has been removed?

Like, you're a fucking psychopath, and you need a job.

What do you get out of doing all that? What do you gain out of doing all that? Honestly, like, don't you have something more productive to do? Why do you give so much of a fuck?

This nigga does not know you. He does not know you exist.

I make it very clear every single day that even though I write for him, this is fan fiction.

HEAVY ON THE FAN FICTION.

I don't know this nigga. I will never know this nigga. He doesn't know I exist. I don't know anything about him. He's nice to look at, he's a pretty face, that's about it.

At the end of the day, man, I'm here for the fanfics.

So, tighten the fuck up, stop all this stupid shit, and when I open the tag tonight, when I open Jermajesty Jackson x Reader, I wanna see fanfics.

I don't wanna see none of that discourse shit, okay?

TAG @plan3tch1ld @missharper33 @syrndollie @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @1andonlytashae

@callmeoncette @swavydadon @blkkbratt @heartsmashing @jks-luvr

@pvt-luv @misscowboyhat @kissmyglxck @kitty-trash @melanatedeuph0ria @melaninjoys @blcknebula @strawberrykittymp3 @brownsugarletters @plumppies @crazylady20

@narratedillusions @cvntttyybumblegumprincess @judesboots @chrollosblackgf66

dollyvy

does anyone do a jackie jackson version of them audios…for a friend obviously 👀

Anybody know of any fics where Michael is still alive today?

@fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @crazylady20 @myxstrx @multifandomposts-blog @mjwifeyy12 @theonlyonlinefish @brownsugarletters @thebrownsugababe @orangecatauthor @prettygurljo

mikaylajacksonnn

how it feels to scroll on tumblr fyp and read endless fics for hours

i genuinely reach flow state and cure my boredom

douceurrrr

don’t get me wrong, i like jaafar and jermajesty. they are both very talented and handsome boys but they clearly have a certain type and that’s okay! i see too many beautiful blk women on social media wishing they would give blk women a chance but (don’t hate me) they are not all that and they are bi-racial boys. so ig all i’m trying to say is that us as blk women we should pay attention to men who desire us and shows it. not saying at all jaafar or jermajesty don’t like blk girls bc idk that but i’m just seeing a pattern and it hurts bc we are so beautiful and sexy and we should pay attention to guys who clearly like us and we are they type!

babyydolllyyy

thank you @erz3ngel for the tag ilyyy! 𐙚🧸ྀི

what are 5 things that are always in ur bag?

1. hand cream (always the ones i get as gifts for christmas so i always smell like cinnamon and gingerbread ^^)

2. lipgloss

3. keys with hundreds of keychains + wallet

4. gums (i chew gums all the time its an addiction atp)

5. a book

˙⋆✮ tags (no pressure): @lanawitch4 @lust4lfe @h0neymoon08 @divinedoll2005 @kimberlyxmon @cutiieepatootiii @sixk0-braiin0

kimberlyxmon

Thank you @babyydolllyyy for the taaag I LOVE these 🤍

what are 5 things that are always in ur bag?

1. Gisou Sticky Toffee lip gloss + Rituals hand lotion

2. Hair brush (if it fits)

3. Lip liner (usually Cappuccino NYX)

4. Wallet + keys

5. AirPods (need new ones desperately)

H.M: depends where I am going but often times I take spf with me or my pencil case if I’m going to uni or a book if I’m going to the park and PERFUME I never leave without perfume even tho I spray myself before I leave I’m just addicted to chemicals lol

tags (no pressure): @prosperousprophet @serendipityepiphany @blondexdoll @ohdeergirl

prosperousprophet

airpods

perfume (warm vanilla sugar)

aquaphor lip repair stik

deodorant

pens or pencils because you just never know

no pressure tags: @unicorngirl2007 @serendipityepiphany @duhitsemmuh @starlithotline @beepbeepblerp @sleepyhead0110

duhitsemmuh

pads

lipgloss

wallet

random coins

candy/gum

@starlithotline @mel6ncholi @terrifyrr @strawkikix0x0 @fizzycakepop @julietteisreal @v4nillangel + anyone i forgot!!

fizzycakepop

1. pads (same)

2. my auqaphor

3. wallets

4. gum

5. handcream (and a little photo of me)

@meiiy0k @miratate @whimsyaubz

miratate

1. water

2. pen / mini notebook

3. snack

4. lip balm

5. kohl eyeliner

thank you for tagging me i love tag games! MWAH @alohaluz @starlithotline @prettyangel008

alohaluz

THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS TAGGING ME PRINCESS 🩷🩷🩷

1. my kindle

2. bottle of water

3. wallet

4. coffee (yes i always have a bottle of coffee)

5. my keys

@capevans3000 @ttangerinexo

capevans3000

This is fun!

1. Water bottle

2. Ear pods

3. Recyclable shopping bag

4. Home keys

5. Sunglasses

@theoldstorybook @fairyofurdreams

fairyofurdreams

THANK YOU FOR THE TAGG!

brown lip liner

a loose cigarette

a spare diaper (young mam core)

an eyebrow pencil

my keys!

@mariet-eva @unknwnbrii @softformj !!!

pytfromnyc

thanks for the tag queen <33

1. travel perfume

2. charger

3. my reading glasses 💔

4. keys

5. wallet

@fleurjasmi @heartsmashing

fleurjasmi

Thx for tagging sweetie!!

1. Sunscreen

2. Lip marker

3. Aquaphor (don't play about my lips)

4. Aspirin

5. Alcohol gel

(It's pretty obvious that keys and wallet are indispensable)

@swavydadon @lestatress @coeurlace

swavydadon

thank youu!!

1. wallet

2. lip gloss

3. charger

4. perfume

5. candy

@plan3tch1ld @multifandomposts-blog @ebvnydesires @angelfacediary @pvtypyt @thesecretvaultt

multifandomposts-blog

Thanks so much for the tag @swavydadon

Portable fan, because I refuse to be hot.

2. Lip gloss + Vaseline, because my lips HAVE to be hydrated.

3. Pads & tampons, even if I don’t personally use tampons, you never know when another girl might need one.

4. Mini perfume, gotta stay smelling good.

5. Sunglasses

TAG @plan3tch1ld @missharper33 @syrndollie @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @1andonlytashae

@callmeoncette @swavydadon @blkkbratt @heartsmashing @jks-luvr

@pvt-luv @misscowboyhat @kissmyglxck @kitty-trash @melanatedeuph0ria @melaninjoys @blcknebula @strawberrykittymp3 @brownsugarletters @plumppies @crazylady20

@narratedillusions

crazylady20

Thank you for the tag ❤️❤️

5 things you always have in your bag?

1. Vaseline for my lips obvi

2. Phone and air pod charger

3. Glasses case for whenever I wanna take my glasses off or from a headache

4. Perfume to stay smelling good

5. My wallet for if and when I wanna buy something

Bonus 6. Pads for when I need them the most

Tag: @missharper33 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @isabella-2025 @myxstrx @playdat

missharper33

Thank you for the tag! @multifandomposts-blog @crazylady20

5 things you always have in your bag:

1. Chapstick- I hate dry lips

2. Gum- bad breath is my #1 ick

3. Portable charger- I always make sure to keep it charged

4. Eye glasses cleaner wipes- Some how my glasses always end up dirty

5. Wallet- for my change and license

@divaaprincess @dicksapointed @orangecatauthor @mjwifeyy12

cvntclip

9 people you want to get to know better!

tagged by @atlantidea thank you & lets pretend i saw the tag months ago <3 reading: old man and the sea but also wuthering heights (they're both kinda meh but im not finished yet so my opinion might change later)

last series: outlander s3 (this show pisses me off so bad but i do enjoy seeing jamie

last movie: pillion

last song: we're almost there by michael jackson

sweet or salty: sweet

coffee or tea: tea

working on: crochet hand warmers

no pressure tags: @jerseybumpkin @lunarsmochii @gothicmj @fridays13th @cassette-dream @belhead @crls4mygrls @theschnoz @shrimpdealer <33

belhead

thank u for the tag angel

reading: rereading ‘moonwalker’, and starting ‘the gold cadillac’ by mildred d. taylor for uni

last series: twin peaks, season 2

last movie: rush hour (1998)

last song: a hard day’s night - the beatles

sweet or salty: salty

coffee or tea: coffee

working on: designing/decorating my apartment!

npt: @neverstreett @j3nnyluvscupc4k3s @humnnatur

humnnatur

tagged by the lovely @belhead 🤍 I love these trends!

reading: The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley.

last series: New Girl.

last movie: Spider Man: Brand New Day.

last song: Your Love by The Outfield.

sweet or salty: sweet!

coffee or tea: coffee all the way.

working on: getting my classroom ready for the school year!

@pytafterdark @artflooo @celestialawakeninz @carouselgirl77 :)

artflooo

This is soooo cute, thank you amor for tagging me 💞 @humnnatur

reading: i wish this answer was more exciting but nothing but research papers atm 🥲 oh and delicious fics on here hehe

last series: The Queen's Gambit ♟️ (loveddd Anya's performance omg)

last movie: Spider Man: Brand New Day 🕷️

last song: Still by Karol G (feat. Bruno Mars) ❣️

sweet or salty: sweet tooth for sureeee 🍫

coffee or tea: i would be nothing without my coffee 😴☕️

working on: finalizing my thesis paper! everyone pls pray for me hahah

tagging these cuties 💋 @brownsugarletters @cloudsofbooksandpages @mjsbrat @unbreakablemike @gothicmj @cupidslyrics @curlypytclubx @sweettreat-3 @mikeysfavoritefish

curlypytclubx

thank you twin!!!! @artflooo 🤎

reading: the never list by jade presley (my first attempt at romantasy fr)

last series: the pitt season 2

last song: free by michael jackson

sweet or salty: i’m a salty kinda girl, i love everything with salt

coffee or tea: tea

working on: behavior plans that i’m working on in my internship / the first press pass blurbs

tagging: @cupidslyrics @muddyloserlia @loves2tour @1andonlytashae @dreamylace @bvtterfliess @plan3tch1ld @prettyangeliczz @brownsugarletters @myxstrx

myxstrx

Thank you for the tags beauties💗 @curlypytclubx @crazylady20

reading: Hunger Games: Sunrise On the Reaping

last movie: Spiderman: Brand New Day

last series: The Vampire Lestat

last song: Use Your Heart by SWV

sweet or salty: Sweet!

coffee or tea: Tea

working on: idk kinda in a slump rn 😕

🏷️: @missharper33 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @burrowsbaddie0609 @sintizc @dollthoughtz

missharper33

Thanks for the tag!!❤️ @myxstrx

Reading: fanfiction atm

Last movie: Fat Albert

Last song: N.E Heartbreak by New Edition

Sweet or salty: Sweet

Coffee or tea: coffee

Working on: a Keith Powers fic

@brownsugarletters @blkkbratt @multifandomposts-blog @divaaprincess @orangecatauthor @mjwifeyy12 @strangerexee @strawberrykittymp3 @heuhanenani

sqrixm

𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐎’𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊ᝰ.ᐟ

⋮ ⌗ ┆ What starts as a simple gift turns into a quiet, consuming obsession. When Michael buys a gold chain, he has no idea the chokehold it has over you, Michael realizes exactly what’s been on your mind all week and he’s more than ready to make you pay for keeping quiet.

╰┈➤ warnings/tags: hard dom Michael, sub reader, p in v, unprotected, little pwp, oral (fem receiving), no use of y/n, nicknames, sexual nickname usage, dirty talk, breeding kink, creamp!e, fluff, FILTHY ONCE AGAIN,

Tags: @michaelsfayvourite @kisscoqueen @t-o-pswifey @strawbevrri @onlyrebloggingprincess @swavydadon @vonxxivi @delicate-ray-of-sunshine @effervescentdeityofchaos @whyxo @megsnotokay

The fixation started the moment he brought it home.

He’d called you from Hayvenhurst, practically vibrating through the phone after a shopping trip with his brothers, insisting you come over right away to see what he’d bought. Missing your boyfriend terribly, you threw on your favorite outfit and hurried across town.

When he opened the front door, you didn't notice it. You didn't notice it when he pulled you into his arms, or when his lips pressed sweet and warm against yours. It wasn't until the very end, after he’d shown you every other purchase, that he held out the last box.

A thin, solid gold chain.

Your eyes widened as you took it in. It was simple, elegant, and unmistakably expensive. But as you looked up at the man holding it, your brain instinctively shifted into dutiful girlfriend mode.

"You look so handsome, baby," you murmured, reaching up to run your manicured fingers along his neck, resting your hands against the skin near his collarbone.

Michael’s arms snaked around your waist, his dark eyes sparkling with quiet amusement. "Yeah? You think so, pretty girl?"

That velvet-soft tone sent a sudden flutter straight to your core, making you want to squeeze your thighs together. You offered a shy, muted "Mhm," keeping the rest of your thoughts to yourself. At the time, neither of you realized the quiet storm that single piece of jewelry was about to unleash.

By the next afternoon, you were sitting together in his private studio. Michael had asked you to tag along—not to help or talk, but just to be a quiet, soothing presence while he worked through the noise in his head.

You sat tucked into the corner of the deep leather couch, completely silent, watching him sort through notes and lyrics.

He looked so focused it made you hyper-aware of every minor detail. When he worked, his face settled into this soft, earnest intensity, his brow slightly arched as his perfectionist mind went to war over every syllable. He erased a line, wrote another, biting his lower lip in concentration.

As much as you loved watching his creative process, your eyes kept slipping lower.

Resting against his simple black t-shirt was the gold chain.

Every time he shifted on his stool or tilted his head to listen to a playback, the metal caught the dim studio light, gleaming against his throat. It moved with his breath, rising and falling, riding low against his collarbone. There was something effortlessly magnetic about it, the contrast of the delicate, glinting metal against his sharp jawline and broad shoulders.

It drove you out of your mind.

When he absently reached up, running his thumb over the links while tapping his foot to an unreleased rhythm, your heart gave a sudden, heavy thud. You pulled a leather throw pillow tight against your chest, pressing your chin to it, entirely helpless under the spell of that subtle gold against his skin.

Suddenly, he looked up from his notebook. Catching you staring, he didn't break eye contact. Instead, a slow, knowing smile spread across his face, flashing those bright white teeth.

"Hi, Mikey," you whispered, your breath catching.

"Hi, mama," he replied softly, his voice a low purr. "C'mere. I miss you."

From that moment on, the chain became a quiet obsession.

Whether he was waking up next to you with messy hair or just sitting at the kitchen island eating a bowl of cereal, your eyes tracked every move that metal made. It only got worse when he wore unbuttoned collared shirts, exposing the dip of his collarbone and the top of his chest. You had to physically restrain yourself during every makeout session just to keep from marking his skin, knowing his father would notice and kill you both if he showed up to rehearsals or TV appearances covered in hickeys.

Michael remained completely oblivious to the internal war you were fighting. To him, your quiet gaze was just the way you always looked at him. He had no idea that every time he moved, he was setting off a slow-burning fuse inside you.

The rest of the family, however, wasn't as blind.

A few days later, you were lounging by the Hayvenhurst pool with Janet, trying to get a moment of peace before the rest of the Jackson brothers turned the water into a warzone. Janet, ever the quiet observer, leaned back in her chair. She was the one who had played matchmaker for the two of you in the first place, and she knew her brother better than anyone.

She took one look at you, watching your acrylics get nervously pressed against your lips as you stared at Michael talking to Jermaine across the yard and shook her head.

"You're staring again," Janet said, perfectly unfazed.

You opened your mouth to offer a quick excuse, but the words caught in your dry throat.

Janet adjusted her sunglasses and laid back down to catch the sun. "Thought so."

By the time the sky shifted into deep hues of pink and purple, the house settled down. You and Michael headed upstairs to his bedroom to change out of your swimwear and wash off the afternoon.

Michael was already shirtless, the gold chain hanging against his warm, bare chest. The metal glinted against his honey-brown skin in the dim bedroom light, a sight so stunning it almost made your heart ache.

He was unpacking the shared pool bag, setting things aside, and gently asking you to put your items away. You knelt by the side of the bed to tuck your sandals into your bag, temporarily forgetting that you were still wearing your damp, form-fitting bikini bottom.

You didn't hear his footsteps crossing the carpet behind you. What you did feel was the sudden, sharp sting of his palm connecting with your hip, drawing a soft, startled whine from your lips.

Before you could move, he stepped in tight behind you. You could feel the unmistakable heat and heavy press of his body right against your back.

"You look so good today, mama," his voice dropped into a relaxed tone. "Wanted to take this little bikini off of ya and eat that pretty pussy."

You positioned yourself with your hands on the bed, looking back over your shoulder and batting your eyelashes, suddenly a little shy at his confession. "Come eat it, baby, it's yours," you murmured, grinding your hips back against his hard-on.

That's how you ended up on your back with Michael holding your legs up, eating you out like a starved man on a mission. Your hands tangled in his hair, forcing him to look up at you as your eyes locked. He was working with such vigor it made you want to jump out of your body.

"Oh my god, Michael, so good, baby," you whined out. Your praises made him throb harder, driving him to push you over the edge.

His eyebrows perked up as he got an idea, his tongue moving in deliberate, familiar patterns—he was spelling his name.

"You eat your pussy so good, baby," you wailed out. Michael groaned, his breath hot and damp against your wet skin.

"Yeah? It's my pussy?"

"Yes, it's Mikey's pussy, fuck—"

You broke eye contact to roll your eyes back, but Michael gave your thigh a firm smack to pull you right back to him.

"Eyes on Mikey, baby, or I stop. I won't tell you again, you understand?" Your tongue lolled out a bit as you nodded dumbly.

Feeling yourself getting close, you tapped his face three times as a signal to hop up. He lifted himself, his chin and lips glistening, but looked at you with genuine concern. "What's wrong, mama? Too much? We can stop if you want."

"No—nothing's wrong, I want you to cum inside me." Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. Thankfully his trunks were already off, his tip bumping against your clit.

Relief washed over his face, replaced by a low, devastating smirk. "Yeah? Want me to fill this pussy up with my kids, huh?" You both knew you were on birth control, but the talk of him making sure your womb was filled always made things so much hotter.

You nodded, biting your lip. He took his tip and slapped it against you a few times to tease you. Impatient, you started to whine, "Mikey, hurry up and put it in."

"Shhh, let me enjoy this, ma," Michael said softly, wanting to hear you beg for it. "Look at her, she's ready for this dick, mama ain't she? You wanna get stuffed?"

"Yes, please! Please stick it in—baby, I need it."

He slowly slipped himself in, making you feel every inch deep inside of you. His groans mixed with yours until he fully bottomed out. The stretch of him burned deliciously good as you adjusted, watching him place one hand on the headboard and his free hand around your leg, pushing you open even farther.

"You ready, ma?"

"Yes, please start moving—"

The air got knocked right out of you as he moved his hips, each deep thrust overwhelming you with pleasure.

"Oh baby," Michael groaned out. "Pussy so tight for me, huh? Love mama's pussy so much."

"I love your dick, daddy, give it to me,"

"You're a good girl, aren't you? Mikey's good girl... always love it so rough." His head was thrown back as he felt your walls clench around him over his words. "Pussy clenching cause you like it when I treat you so rough. No princess treatment around here, baby, huh?"

"I love it so much, Mikey," you agreed.

And right there above you, hanging in all its glory, was the same chain that had been taunting you all week. It glistened as it dangled in your face, and taking the whole scene in. His body, his flushed skin, that gold was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen.

"My baby looks so good with his chain on," you gasped out.

Even though you meant to say it quietly, Michael heard you loud and clear. He slowed down, giving you slower, heavier strokes as he connected the dots.

"My chain? What, you like how I look with it on?"

"Yes! Ungh, shit, fuck me... I love how you look with it," you stammered, so cock-drunk you didn't even care about hiding it anymore. "I've been thinking about you and this chain all damn week. You look so good with that shit on, hah, yes!"

Michael chuckled softly. "Is that why you've been staring at my neck all this time? You've been wanting me to fuck you with this chain on, and you just didn't know how to open that damn mouth—that's what it is."

You whimpered as he started moving harder inside, touching your cervix. "Fuck me! Fuck me, Mikey, fuck, drop that dick, please!"

The chain dangled right over your face, and instead of just watching it, you took your mouth and started to suck on the metal. Michael watched your mouth suckle on the gold, his eyes darkening as he picked up the pace again.

"Take this dick. Take this dick like a good girl."

The headboard started slamming against the wall. You let go of the chain to moan, "Shit, Mike—"

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up. And. Take. It," he demanded, each heavy slam matching his words. "Mikey didn't tell you to stop sucking. Don't stop now, pretty."

You latched back on, sucking on the necklace as your legs started shaking violently. He was telling you to shut up, but his own moans were bouncing around the room along with the sound of skin smacking together.

"Spread that pussy and let me fuck it, mama." You held your legs up and spread them wider. "There you go, baby. Right there?"

You let go of the chain again to speak. "Yes! Dig in that pussy, fuck, daddy, dig in it!"

Michael hit the spot that made you see stars and didn't stop. Sensing you were right on the edge, he coaxed you through it. "You're gonna cum, aren't you? You finna cum for Mikey like a good girl, baby? Let me feel it, mama, let me feel it!"

"Shit, Michael, I'm gonna cum, baby—I'm cumming!"

"You cumming? Cum on this dick. Cum on this dick, don't stop!"

Your eyes rolled back as your body shook, coming hard all over him while he fucked you right through it to prolong the feeling. His thrusts started to get sloppy as he reached his own limit.

"I'm gonna cum, baby. I'm finna cum inside that pussy, baby."

"Cum inside me! Gimme that nut—I want your kids so bad, daddy, fuck!"

"I'm gonna give you my kids, baby... you're gonna feel this dick."

"Yes, please! Fuck, I love you... I love you, please nut in me!"

Your words threw him right over the edge. Michael threw his head back, letting out a heavy moan as he finally finished deep inside of you. Seeing him completely lose his mind above you with that godforsaken chain triggered a second orgasm in you, making you clamp down tight around him as he poured into you.

Minutes passed in complete stillness, broken only by the sound of your synchronized, heavy breathing.

Michael remained collapsed over you, his head resting softly in the crook of your neck, his chest rising and falling against yours. The gold chain lay warm and flat against your collarbone where his neck rested.

Slowly, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking down at the beautiful mess he’d made of you. Your hair tangled against the pillows, your skin flushed, and your eyes heavy-lidded with complete satisfaction.

He reached up with two fingers, casually flicking the gold chain hanging from his neck, a lazy, mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"All this over a chain."

missharper33

Dom!Mikey is something else🙂‍↕️😮‍💨