k⋆.˚

certified fangirl

[mjsweets]

݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆

кαтιєѕ ∂ιαяу

«⠀𓏲 @mjsweet ⠀. . .

⠀she / her⠀⏔⠀bisexual

⠀⠀ ⠀𝜗𓏲⠀mjsarchives on tiktok⠀⠀( ᵔᴗᵔ ) 𝗫𝗢𝗫𝗢

masterlist

⧣jaafar’s princess ✦ ˚.༄

⧣mature michaels devote ★ ˚.

[serenebows]

it ain’t right if i can’t give sweet love to you

pairing 𝜗𝜚 off the wall!michael jackson x fem!black!reader

synopsis 𝜗𝜚 michael has been leaving half-way through your dates, leaving hangouts abruptly. still, he couldn’t fathom the idea of you thinking you’re unimportant to him.

warnings 𝜗𝜚 explicit smut, reader is a horror movie man, a fear of abandonment a smidge

authors note 𝜗𝜚 first time writing smut, kinda nervous!

word count 𝜗𝜚 2.5k

𝓶ichael had been working on his first solo album, off the wall, for the past few months.

you were incredibly proud that he was stepping away from making music with his brothers and prioritizing his solo career. and you were even more ecstatic to be by his side throughout the entire process.

the only downside was that you were spending significantly less time with him. between studio recordings and his writing lyrics, you were barely able to spend more than a few hours with him.

your dates would be interrupted by a call from quincy, or michael having an epiphany about potential song lyrics. you’ve started to simply accompany him to the studio because you cherish any time you’d be able to spend with him.

it was starting to become exhausting, though. having to salvage time with your boyfriend was grueling. you felt selfish for thinking that way, but it was starting to feel like the recording studio was seeing michael more than you were.

right now, you were lying in his bed watching the texas chainsaw massacre. it was one of your favorite movies of all time, and even though michael wasn’t a big fan of it, he’d put it on just because you asked nicely.

your body was inclined next to his. one of your legs was thrown over his and your head was lying on his chest. his hand ran up and down your arm in languid movements. moments like these made you forget that you were dating a pop star who had to fight to make time for you.

the phone line rings and you sigh because you already know who’s calling. this was yet another tranquil moment with michael ruined due to his work.

“let me get up, baby,” he taps your arm twice as a signal for you to get up.

begrudgingly, you rise from your position next to him and allow him to leave the bed. your eyes follow his frame as he walks over to the phone and picks it up.

you can’t hear whoever is on the only side, but you don’t have to in order to know that it’s quincy.

“hello?” michael asks.

he doesn’t speak for a few long moments, only nodding his head in agreement as if the person on the other line could see him.

“right now?”

he stays silent for a few minutes more before a look of contempt crosses his face. whatever he’s being told, it’s not good news.

“do you need me like, right now?”

he nods his head in agreement once again. in the meantime, your eyes have never left his figure standing near the phone. he places the phone back on the wall before turning to look at you.

“i gotta go to the studio, baby. quincy needs me,” he informs you regretfully.

“okay.”

“‘m sorry. i know we were watching your movie. i’ll be back as soon as i can,” he steps closer to you as he speaks, stopping right in front of where you were once lying—now sitting.

“okay. i understand,” you say coolly.

he moves one of his hands to rest on your cheek. you can’t help leaning into his palm, despite how peeved you were at him at the moment.

“‘m really sorry, mama. you know i don’t wanna go,” he swears.

“it’s okay. i know you don’t have much of a choice,” you smile wistfully.

he looks at you for a prolonged period of time before he eventually pulls away from you. he maneuvers around the room, gathering everything he’ll need for recording, all while your eyes never leave him.

you can’t help but feel resentment, knowing that yet another short-lived moment with your boyfriend was ruined due to some external factors. you knew how much making music meant to him, his family, and everyone around him. but you wanted just one day where he wasn’t caught up in recording sessions and writing music.

the movie in the background is now long forgotten. you feel inconsiderate for wanting to spend so much time with him. he had pressing matters to attend to and he couldn’t spend all of this time with you. but, a part of your brain couldn’t help but rationalize the situation by concluding that he didn’t want to spend time with you.

“i’ll be back in a few hours,” michael says to you.

“okay. see you then.”

you have a habit of giving michael a goodbye kiss whenever either he or you leaves. when he leans down to reach your height, all you offer him is a chaste kiss, a stark comparison to the way you’d usually indulge in him.

“bye. i love you.”

“love you too,” you say.

michael leaves without another word. you sit and stare at his tv even though you’re paying no attention to the movie, until you conclude that there’s no reason for you to still be in his family’s home if he wasn’t there.

you gather the little belongings you brought with you before leaving. your descent down the stairs is haste and soundless. you’re out of the house long before anyone returns and realizes you were ever there.

once you’re in the comfort of your own home, the immense feelings of melancholy hit you. all you wanted to do today was spend time in your boyfriend's arms, but even that was interrupted.

you feel selfish every time you think about wanting to spend more time with him when he’s occupied with work. you want to be with him, he has to work, it’s practically a never ending cycle of heartsickness.

it was evident that michael wouldn’t be returning to you any time soon, so you opted to sleep away every grievance you had. maybe you’d wake up to all your problems having magically cured themselves—no more work calls interrupting your dates and you have michael’s undivided attention.

you wake up hours later, when it’s dark outside. you have no voicemails or anything else from michael, so you’re determined not to let your mind drift to him tonight.

you unravel yourself from your comforter, making a beeline to your bathroom. you’d complete your nightly routine and attempt to go back to sleep afterwards. you could only hope that your midday nap didn’t disrupt your sleep schedule too much.

the shower water is scalding in a comforting way. it was scorching in a way that relaxed your shoulders and eased your nerves. it was the ideal implement to distract you from your unsatisfactory predicament.

you’re lathering yourself in body oil when you hear two knocks on your front door. you’re caught off guard because you weren’t expecting any visitors, and you didn’t know who’d be randomly visiting you at ten p.m.

you wrap yourself in a silk robe before making your way to the front door. when you open it, you aren’t exactly expecting to see your boyfriend standing there.

“mikey?”

“hey, baby,” he quietly greets you.

you open your door wider as a silent invitation. he steps into your home like it’s an atmosphere he was unfamiliar with.

as soon as you lock the front door behind you, michael’s hands are on you. his hands steadily grip your waist as he pulls your body closer to his. he’s so proximate that you can feel his warm breath fanning your face.

“i missed you so much. you wouldn’t believe it,” he utters.

you place both of your hands on his chest to steady yourself and make a futile attempt at pushing him away. it’s not that you didn’t want him in your space, it’s just very sudden given his recent behaviors.

“are you okay?” you ask him.

“‘m great. i just missed you so much when i was recording.”

“do you have a fever?” you press the back of your hand to his forehead to gauge his temperature. he’s not immensely warm, so you assume he’s fine.

“why do you think something's gotta be wrong with me?”

“‘cause i barely see you these days, and now you come to my house in the dead of night ‘n you’re all over me.”

michael’s eyebrows furrow at your words. he’s well aware that he’s been flaking on you quite often recently, but it’s seemingly bothering you more than he thought it was. he thought you were taking everything relatively well, but that wasn’t the case.

“baby, you know i have to leave for work. i can’t help it.”

“maybe that’s the problem, michael,” you snap.

you shove both of his arms off your waist and begin walking in the direction of your bedroom. both your words and your harsh actions take him aback, but he’s trailing behind you before he can think about it too deeply.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

you charge into your room and rush to your bathroom. you return to the body oil that you were using before the knock on the door distracted you. michael follows you until he’s leaning against the wall next to the door of the room.

“the problem is that you’re always leaving for work and you can’t do anything about it. you just leave the moment you get a call without any regard for how i’m feeling.”

michael lets out a long exhale and that only furthers your agitation. “mama, you know there’s nothing i can do about it. do you jus’ want me to tell quincy i can’t record because my girl wants me to stay home?”

“yes!” you exclaim, body oil now forgotten. “i want you to treat me like i matter for once.”

you storm past him without another word, but you don’t make it past the threshold of your bathroom before michael grabs your forearm. his grip isn’t painful, yet it’s tight enough that you’re unable to go anywhere. he pulls your body until you’re directly in front of him.

even when you’re so close to him, you still don’t look him in the eye. you don’t know if you’d break down or if your irritation would flare up even more upon making eye contact with him.

“you think you don’t matter to me?”

“you don’t treat me like i do.”

he doesn’t say anything in response. you look at him for the first time since you’ve entered your bedroom. he looks torn, as if he’s distraught yet in disbelief at the same time. it’s like he couldn’t fathom the idea of you thinking you’re unimportant to him, and just the thought of it disheartens him.

“you mean everything to me,” he admits. he keeps his hand on your forearm and places the other on your lower back. he pulls your body even closer to him than you were before.

“it doesn’t feel like it,” you mutter. “it feels like everything else is more important to you.”

“nothing is more important than you. not my songs, not anything else.”

you can’t help the grin that finds its way to your face. hearing your boyfriend ease everything you’ve been worrying about for the past few weeks was a dreamlike experience.

“‘m sorry i made you feel like you didn’t matter, mama,” he apologizes.

“‘s okay. i’m sorry for making it a big deal.”

“but it is a big deal. how you feel will always be a big deal.”

at this point, his hand had dropped your forearm and both his arms were wrapped around your lower back. he held you so tightly, you wondered if he thought you’d disappear if his grip faltered.

“‘m, so sorry. let me make it up to you.”

your eyes flit to his lips and he takes the initiative to kiss you. his lips are hot, yet soft when they land on yours. his palms come up to cup your face and you lean into them, as always.

his lips travel from yours to the base of your throat, leaving airy kisses following his descent. “so pretty,” he sucks on the base of your neck.

“please, mikey,” you whine.

he pulls back to fully look at you. “please what, mama?”

“please. i want you.”

you don’t need to say anything else. michael takes your hand and leads you from your bathroom to the bedroom. he doesn’t stop moving until he has you lying on his bed and he’s towering over you.

“so pretty f’me,” he says, looking down at you.

you’re a mixture of moans and sweet nothings until you’re bare underneath him, robe thrown into some corner of your room.

you reach for michael’s pants, but he beats you to it. he pulls down his pants and boxers in one movement, closing his fist around himself.

your breath caught in your throat as michael aligned himself to you and nudged the head of his dick against your opening. he was big, and no matter how many times both of you had sex, he took some time getting used to.

“fuck,” he groaned into your neck.

you could feel your heart pounding rapidly in your chest. hell, you could practically hear the sound of your own heartbeat crystal clear.

“you can take it.” michael begins to inch himself inside of you.

michael grips your hips as he pushes deeper into you until he bottoms out. he was stretching you to a point that felt like it should’ve been painful, but you only felt filled.

his eyes were glassy, glazed and his breath was ragged. he dropped his forehead to meet yours. at this point, your breaths were a disorderly mingle of desperation and erotica.

he moved inside of you, just hardly thrusting. it made your entire body clench around him until you could feel every pulse of his dick inside of you.

michael groaned, and the noise was harsh-sounding and out of control. his grip strains on your hips as if he’s trying to ground himself, yet getting lost in you simultaneously.

“jus’ needed my attention, right mama?”

you nod in agreement, not trusting your words to come out as anything except unintelligible. “all i needed,” your breath caught halfway through the last word.

michael pulls out and then pushes back in. he’s moving at a tentative, careful pace at first. in the span of a few seconds, his thrusts shift from hesitant to accelerated and brisk.

he piles into you, again and again, rubbing inside you. against you, forcing pleasure to course throughout your entire body.

“you like that?” his voice is raspy and his breath is hot against the shell of your ear.

you couldn’t answer. your fingernails dug into michael’s back, breaking skin and undoubtedly leaving scars. pressure built inside you, swelling and engrossing.

with every thrust, you can feel yourself nearing your climax. his thrusts become erratic and uncontrollable, and you can tell he’s nearly at the same point that you are.

his grip on your hips falters and he cums inside you with a groan. he continues to thrust into you, sloppy and uncontrolled, until you’re sent over the edge with a cry of his name.

neither of you says anything for a moment. you’re focused on catching your breath and the mess of fluids between you. he pulls out of you and you whine at the loss of contact.

“i’ll be here more, baby. i promise,” he vows.

“pinky?” you hold your pinky out to him for him to promise. it’s a juvenile thing, but it means the world to you.

“i pinky promise,” he interlinks his pinky with yours.

[luvingkiku]

ִֶָ۶ৎ˖ִ ˚ charity gala | michael jackson ۶ৎ˖ִ ˚

pairing: !m.jackson x !actress reader

michael had been a fan of yours long before he ever met you.

it started with one movie while he was stuck in a hotel room somewhere in europe. then another. then another. before he knew it, he was asking people if they had seen your latest film and getting weirdly excited whenever your interviews came on television. michael liked that you never seemed prepared for them.

while everyone else in hollywood answered questions like they had practiced in front of a mirror before, you always looked like you just wandered into the conversation by accident. half the time you were laughing at something you had said yourself, so when he spotted you across the ballroom at a charity gala in 1997, he knew exactly who you were.

what surprised him was how normal you looked. you weren’t working the room or posing for photographs. you were sitting with a group of older women from the organizing committee, listening so intently to one of their stories that you didn’t even notice half the celebrities walking past your table. he couldn’t stop glancing over, so later while trying to grab a bottle of water, he nearly walked straight into you.

“oh! i’m so sorry.”

you looked up then immediately giggled.

“michael jackson apologizing to me is crazy.”

his face turned pink so fast it was impressive.

after that, talking to you was easy, easier than it should’ve been. he kept waiting for that awkward moment where the conversation stalled out and one of you had to pretend to be interested in the decorations or something, but it never happened. one topic just kept leading to another.

michael’s secretary came over and reminded him that he was supposed to be speaking with one of the donors, and michael nodded, said he’d be there in five minutes, and twenty minutes later he was still standing exactly where she’d left him.

by the time the night started ending, most of the guests had already gone home. staff members were stacking chairs near the back of the room and collecting abandoned programs from empty tables, and somehow the two of you were still talking. when you finally hugged him goodbye, michael sat in the back of the car afterwards staring out the window like an idiot.

this was an idea that came to me last night and i wrote it so fast, so apologies if there is any mistakes ^-^

[mvsticmoony]

miss possessive

SUMMARY: based on this request. The problem isn’t that women flirt with Michael Jackson. The problem is that Y/N notices. The bigger problem is that Michael notices Y/N noticing.

CONTENT: Michael Jackson x Reader. Established relationship. Jealous and slightly possessive reader. Protective and hopelessly devoted Michael Jackson. History era. Humor, fluff, backstage shenanigans, playful jealousy, a little bit of female rivalry, pda, and Michael being completely obsessed with his girlfriend.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・.・。.・゜✭

Everybody on the set knew Michael Jackson was hopelessly in love and obsessed with his girlfriend, Y/N.

Not regular boyfriend obsessed. Not casual celebrity relationship obsessed. No.

This man looked at her like every love song he’d ever written had somehow become a person.

And unlike people assumed Michael wasn’t oblivious. Naive sometimes? Sure. Too kind for his own good? Absolutely. But stupid? Never.

He noticed when women flirted with him. He noticed the lingering touches. The giggling. The way too-long stares. He just usually ignored it because none of it mattered to him.

Not when his Y/N existed.

And honestly? Michael kind of enjoyed letting people embarrass themselves sometimes.

Especially when Y/N got possessive.

Because underneath all her confidence his girl had a little crazy in her.

Not toxic crazy. Fun crazy. Sharp-tongued. Territorial. The kind that smiled sweetly while threatening somebody psychologically.

And Michael secretly adored it. Secretly even got a little bit turned on by it.

Especially during the making of his album History.

Because, lucky Michael, Y/N followed him everywhere during that time. Sets. Tours. Studios. Rehearsals. You name it, she was there. And he absolutely love it and begged for her to be around.

Sometimes she would sit behind the monitors in giant sunglasses and one of his jackets criticizing choreography like an offended sports commentator.

Sometimes she wandered onto stage during lighting checks just to bother (kiss) him while he worked.

And Michael? Oh, he orbited her constantly.

If she disappeared too long he noticed immediately.

If somebody annoyed her he noticed immediately.

If she looked jealous—oh, he definitely noticed immediately.

Which became a problem once that stupid (according to Y/N) backup dancer showed up.

Beautiful girl. Very aware she was beautiful too. One of those women who walked around like every room was an audition.

At first it was harmless. Too much laughing. Standing too close. Finding excuses to touch Michael during rehearsals. Nothing they weren’t used to. And Michael ignored all of it politely. Not passively, though. He’d subtly step away. Redirect conversations. Immediately look for Y/N afterward.

One afternoon during choreography rehearsal the dancer pressed herself against him during a move that absolutely did not require it. Michael caught it instantly.

His expression flickered. Not flustered, no.

Annoyed.

He stepped backward smoothly.

“Careful,” he said lightly. “That’s not part of the choreography.”

The room went awkwardly quiet.

Because the correction sounded polite, but very pointed. The dancer recovered quickly though. Smiling wider instead. “Sorry,” she purred. “It’s hard to focus around you.” Michael gave the smallest tight smile imaginable.

Then immediately looked across the room.

Right toward where Y/N was.

She sat on top of a monitor table sipping on some tea while watching the entire interaction over the rim of her cup.

Their eyes met instantly. And Michael saw it.

That little look.

Worse than insecurity.

Amusement. Dangerous amusement. Like she was deciding whether to kill somebody recreationally.

Michael bit back a smile and abandoned rehearsal entirely, walking straight toward her.

The dancer blinked in disbelief and confusion.

Michael stopped between Y/N’s knees automatically while she looked up at him lazily.

“You surviving over there?” she asked sweetly.

Michael leaned down just enough for only her to hear. “She’s annoying me.”

Y/N nearly smiled. Nearly. Instead she tilted her head innocently.

“Aw. You need me to save you?”

Michael looked at her through his lashes with a tiny smirk. “Maybe I want you to.”

That was the thing about Michael. People thought he was shy all the time. But around Y/N? He knew exactly what he was doing.

The next few days only got worse.

The dancer became bolder because apparently humiliation wasn’t enough to stop her.

One day Y/N walked into Michael’s trailer and immediately stopped in her tracks.

The dancer stood there laughing at something Michael clearly had not found funny.

Too close again. Hand on his arm. Michael looked up the second Y/N entered.

And immediately—immediately—his entire body language changed. Relief crossed his face and his shoulders relaxed.

“Baby.” He said, an enormous smile taking over his pretty face.

That one word alone made the dancer look irritated.

Michael stood up right away crossing the trailer toward Y/N while the dancer still talked. It was like he genuinely forgot she existed halfway through the conversation. And the best part was that he didn’t even did it on purpose.

He kissed Y/N’s forehead softly before murmuring. “Please tell me you’re done with wardrobe?”

The dancer stared at them like she wanted to scream. Or commit a felony.

Y/N smiled sweetly.

“Mhm.” Then she looked toward the dancer casually and waved her fingers at her. “Oh. Hi.”

The girl crossed her arms. “You’re always here.”

Michael answered before Y/N could. “Yeah.” He looked down at Y/N and smiled. “That’s where I keep her.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, a small giggle getting through. The dancer clenched her jaw. And Michael noticed that too. Because again: that man was not oblivious.

That night after filming the music video wrapped, Y/N sat in Michael’s lap backstage while he removed the iconic tape pieces from his fingers. He grunted with frustration as one particular tape was stubbornly sticking to his hand. He shook his head lightly and placed his hand on Y/N’s lap, giving up on taking it off. She took his hand in his and started to work on it.

“Told you she wants you,” Y/N muttered, eyes on the tape.

Michael didn’t even look up.

“She wants attention.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “She does?”

Now Michael looked up. Completely calm. “Baby, women who actually get my attention don’t act like that.”

That sentence sat directly in Y/N’s bloodstream for the next forty-eight business hours.

Unfortunately the dancer overheard enough little moments like that to start resenting Y/N badly.

And truly? Y/N was handling the situation with all the grace and emotional restraint of a jealous housecat.

Not because she doubted Michael, never that. But because watching another woman repeatedly ignore boundaries made her act a bit mean.

One morning while getting some coffee with a makeup artist from the crew, Y/N watched the dancer laugh a little too loudly at something Michael said from across the room. She stared for a moment.

“You know,” Y/N said casually to the makeup artist, “I actually feel bad for her.”

He looked up.

“Why?”

Y/N sighed dramatically. “Can you imagine embarrassing yourself in front of Michael Jackson every day?”

“Babes, that’s literally all you do.”

“That’s different.” She argued, eyes not leaving Michael’s little annoyed expression as the dancer talked his ear off.

The makeup artist frowned. “How?”

“Well, he thinks it’s cute when I do it.”

That made him snort.

Across the room, the dancer laughed again. Too loud. Way too loud for Y/N’s liking.

Y/N’s eye twitched. Just a little. Michael looked up automatically. Their eyes met.

And immediately he knew.

Uh-oh.

The dancer kept talking. Y/N kept pretending she wasn’t watching. Michael kept pretending he wasn’t watching her watch him.

The cycle continued for approximately three full minutes. And then rehearsal finally broke for lunch.

Michael made it maybe halfway across the room before finding her. As usual. As he always did.

He dropped into the chair beside her, arms crossed over his chest and a tini-tiny smirk on his pretty face. He looked far too pleased with himself.

Y/N narrowed her eyes.

“I don’t like your face.” She motioned to his face.

“My face?”

“That face you have going on.”

“What face?” He was doing it on purpose at this point.

Y/N nodded, a bit annoyed, actually. “The one you’re making right now.”

Michael smiled. Exactly. That face.

Y/N sighed dramatically.

“She’s so annoying.”

Michael’s smile widened instantly, cheeks starting to hurt. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N looked away rolling her eyes.

Michael bit the inside of his cheek as he tried not to laugh. He failed, the tiniest of giggles leaving his lips. “Baby.”

“Oh, don’t you ‘baby’ me.” Y/N said, a pout taking over her face as she crossed her arms over her chest.

He shook his head in a very teasing way.

“Oh, my miss possessive.”

Y/N whipped her head around so fast. “Excuse me?” Voice laced with annoyance.

Michael’s smile got bigger.

“Miss Possessive.”

“Michael.”

“My miss Possessive.”

“I swear to God—”

Now he was just fully laughing. Shoulders shaking. Head ducked down. The worst part? The man looked delighted. Absolutely delighted.

“You were staring.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“You so were.”

“I was observing.”

Michael nodded thoughtfully. “Right.”

“I was.”

“Very scientific.”

“Exactly.”

“Research purposes, am I right?”

“Absolutely.”

Michael looked away again. Trying (unsuccessfully) to recover.

Y/N pointed a sharp finger at him, eyes wide. “Stop enjoying this.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” She nodded. “Too much, actually.”

“I’m really not.” He mumbled holding his hands up like a guilty man.

“Michael.”

“Okay, maybe I am enjoying little.” He clicked his tongue. “You’re cute when you’re jelous of me.”

Y/N groaned loudly and threw her head back. Michael looked like he’d just won an award. “I don’t get jelous.” Deny, deny, deny.

Michael nodded, a full ironic expression on his face. “Right, what ever makes you sleep at night, princess.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Deny, deny, deny.’ She thought to herself. But then again, what the hell? “You know what?” She finally snapped, whipping her head in his direction. Immediately he perked up.

“What?”

She cocked her head to the side and raised her brows for a moment. “I lied.” She stared into his eyes. Michael blinked.

“You lied?”

“Yeah.”

She threw both hands into the air. “I’m jealous.”

Silence. Then Michael smiled so hard he nearly looked embarrassed.

“Really?”

“Oh, don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That.”

Y/N pointed at him again.

“The face again.”

“What face?”

“The one I just said you do when you’re enjoying something way too much.”

Michael laughed. Actually laughed.

Oh, the audacity of this man.

“Baby—”

“Shut up.”

“Baby.”

“Nope.”

“You’re so cute.”

Y/N covered her face immediately.

“This is very humiliating for me.”

Michael gently pulled one of her hands away.

Still smiling. Still completely in awe of her.

“I like that you care.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“I do.” He intertwined their fingers and kissed her hands.

“You’re making it worse.”

Michael leaned closer.

“Miss Possessive.” He whispered.

Y/N pointed at him immediately.

“Keep talking and I’m leaving.”

“No, you’re not.”

She stared at him for about two seconds. “Yeah, probably not.”

“Exactly.”

And somehow that made him smile even bigger.

One afternoon the dancer walked past Y/N and muttered. “Some girls get way too comfortable.”

Y/N smiled immediately. “Oh, I’m beyond comfortable, thank you!”

The makeup artist nearby actually choked on her water at that.

Then came the shirt.

Michael arrived on set late one morning wearing black jeans, curls tied back loosely, sunglasses and a T-Shirt that read:

MY GIRLFRIEND IS HOTTER THAN YOU

That man.

That. Impossible. Man.

The crew in the studio did not know how to react.

Screaming.

Wheezing.

People dropping things.

Y/N’s hand just flew over her mouth, disbelief flashed across her face. She shook her negativity head at him.

That infuriatingly beautiful man.

“Michael Jackson, you are unbelievable.”

Michael looked around confused.

“What?”

“You cannot wear that!”

He glanced down at the shirt casually.

“What? I thought it was cute.”

“You are insane.”

Michael smiled slowly then. A little smug this time. Good Lord. “I know.”

Y/N stared at him in disbelief.

“You did that on purpose?”

Michael shrugged lightly. Then leaned close enough for only her to hear. “She keeps staring at me.”

Y/N went silent immediately.

Because oh. So he had noticed.

Michael slid his sunglasses down slightly.

“And she keeps making you mad.”

Y/N folded her arms trying not to look pleased.

“And?”

“And I don’t like it.”

That should not have been as attractive as it was. Unfortunately for Y/N it was devastatingly attractive.

Y/N just shook her head again, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face into his chest. Michael let out a loud laugh and kissed the top of her head.

The final confrontation happened two days later.

Y/N sat backstage getting her eyeliner fixed when the dancer appeared again.

Arms crossed, cocky expression on her face.

“You know,” she started casually, “it’s kind of embarrassing how attached he is to you.”

Y/N looked at her through the mirror.

“It is?”

“He’s obsessed.”

Y/N smiled faintly. “Yeah, I know.”

That clearly wasn’t the reaction the dancer wanted. She stepped closer.

“I just think if Michael met somebody more…” She actually looked Y/N up and down. “,exciting—”

Y/N actually laughed this time. Not fake. Real. Sharp. “Okay,” She mumbled still smiling.

Then finally she stood up slowly.

And suddenly the room felt different.

Because Y/N wasn’t intimidated. Not even slightly.

She walked closer until the dancer had to tilt her head upward slightly.

“My boyfriend would never look twice at you,” Y/N said calmly.

The dancer scoffed. “You sound very confident.”

“I am.” Then Y/N smiled. Mean. Beautiful. “But if you wanna embarrass yourself…” She shrugged lightly. “Try him.”

And apparently the woman was dumb enough to do exactly that.

Later during rehearsal Michael sat alone near the stage sipping on some orange juice while checking choreography notes when the dancer approached.

Y/N watched from across the set already bitting down a smile because she knew this was about to go horribly.

The girl leaned against his chair.

“You know…” she said softly. “I think you deserve somebody less possessive.”

“Huh?” Michael looked up slowly, brows frowned slightly. Already looking very unimpressed. “My girlfriend is a little possessive.” His eyes flickered briefly to where Y/N stood, a small smile appearing on his lips. “I like it.”

The girl laughed lightly.

“She watches every woman around you.”

Michael capped his water bottle calmly.

“Because every woman around me keeps bothering me.” The dancer blinked. Michael continued before she could recover. “And honestly?” He tilted his head slightly. “I’m starting to think y’all do it on purpose.”

The dancer forced a smile. “I just think maybe you’d get bored eventually.”

Michael stared at her for a long moment. Then glanced across the room toward Y/N. And the second he saw her? His entire face softened automatically.

Then he looked back at the dancer and said very simply: “I’ve been in love with her for years.” Silence. “People don’t get boring when you actually love them.”

Murder. Complete murder.

The dancer looked like she wanted earth to swallow her whole now.

And Michael wasn’t finished. Because suddenly he smiled politely. Not cruel, which felt, somehow, worse. “And respectfully…” He gestured vaguely toward Y/N across the room. “Have you seen my girlfriend?”

The dancer’s face went blank. She honestly didn’t know what to say.

Y/N covered her face laughing discreetly, pretending she wasn’t doing her absolute best to eavesdrop when Michael finally stood up and walked straight toward her.

The second he reached her he wrapped one arm around her waist naturally, pulling her closer.

Y/N looked up at him through a grin.

“You’re a little crazy in the head, you know that, right?”

Michael looked very pleased with himself.

“Yeah? Well, I’ve learned from the best.” He teased her and Y/N shook her head.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Then Y/N grabbed the front of his stupid shirt and kissed him right there in front of everybody. Just because she could.

And because Michael Jackson looked at her like she’d invented sunshine just to brighten his day.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・.・。.・゜✭

Tags:

@skiicoreee @18lkpeters @ami-kay-01 @bouncylikebouncyball @hewassunshine @umafanficdoidaqualquer @darkgreengrl @boredpretty @thatonegirl412 @velournoir @watamotee33 @nodisdino @leipforggy @amoravelee @defmaybesam @niyahctrl @daniela75201 @d3adlyclassrat @bangtan7553 @romansbbg @chims-kookies @needjoekeery @cruelsummer01 @dreyar-palacez @maerawrrr @maxivstappen @iris-xoxo-juhu @cakewiththecreamer @lovern-9 @faercia @ladyjacksonsblog @quietlyscornfulfable @whoscamila @lovern-9 @bakugotypecrashout @heyitsm4di @ieesohees @bakugotypecrashout @this-is-biebers-world-blog @rhodesreignsrollins @itsloveee @victoriarosaline @thrilleronvinyl @officialcaptain @wazabii @meowmeowbby

[hcwait]

❛ bad era!michael jackson 𝑥 model!reader ❜ ᛝྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི 18+

𐔌 ݁ 𓂃 ⓘ content ﹕ preparing for your first big runway show as a victoria's secret angel with your supportive boyfriend in the crowd but afterwards, he can’t keep his hands to himself. this is based in the late 80's but were gonna pretend vs shows were a thing then. not proofread,,

your stomach twisted itself into impossible knots. for the fifth time in 10 minutes, you rechecked your makeup in the vanity mirror in nothing but a lacey pink lingerie set by victoria’s secret and a pair of white angel wings. that’s right, you were walking as a victoria’s secret angel, a job you had been wishing for for a while now. but at this moment, your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest.

that was until a familiar figure showed up behind you. to your surprise, it was michael with a big bouquet of roses. earlier when you had showed up for rehearsals, there was a bouquet of tulips already set on your designated makeup vanity. this man just loved to spoil his girl, especially before a big event.

“aww mikey,” you tuned around to face him, taking the bouquet as he engulfed you in a tight hug, “thank you, my love.” you cooed.

he gave you a soft kiss on your forehead, “of course, doll.” he admired your little outfit, your perfect blowout and the way you makeup glittered in the lights.

“i’m so nervous..” you admitted, smoothing invisible wrinkles from the satin ribbon wrapped around your wrist. this was one of your first official runway walks, your first being for a smaller fashion show event.

“don’t be, darling,” he held your shoulders, massaging them gently and watched your reflection, “you’re such a natural.” he affirmed you. his support really did help you wonders in times like these. his soft voice and comforting presence was enough to clear the fog and anxiety that flooded your mind.

michaels fingers lingered past your shoulder to tighten your angel wings a bit as you calmed your nerves. he turned your chair around to face him, taking your hands in his.

“in..” he inhaled through his nose, guiding you to do the same, “and out.” exhaling through his mouth. he led you through more breathing exercises, something he also does before a big show—taking your knuckles to his lips, peppering soft kisses on them. before you knew it, that tight feeling in your chest had suddenly disappeared.

“let’s go girls! you’re on in 5!” the show caller announced through the thick backstage chaos. michael gave you one last kiss on the forehead and a “good luck!” before scurrying back to his reserved seat—front row of course, but the press waited for him outside of the dressing room. he guarded his vision as he pushed past, him clearly there for one and only reason.

he sat impatiently in his seat, waiting to see your look as a few girls had done their walks first while you were lined up and ready for your cue to walk.

“angel number 5! you’re on, let’s move!” the show caller yelled once again. you prepared for your walk as they signaled ‘3…2…1!’ and giving you a point.

you dropped all thoughts from your head and marched out on the runway. flaunting your curves and long legs that were very complimented by the sparkly pink pumps on your feet, michael couldn’t take his eyes off of you the moment you walked out. following you the whole time you walk to the end of the platform, giving him a little wave before walking back—paparazzi cameras flashing endlessly.

you displayed a few other lingerie looks, one being a black lace set, another being a white frilly babydoll set, all had michael locked in on you. he couldn’t help but imagine you in those outfits when it’s just the two of you, carefully ripping the pieces of clothing off of you.

by the end, all of the angels had went out to the main stage to bow, thank the crowd for their support and finish up the show. quickly, michael disappeared backstage once again, swooping you up once he’s seen you.

you yelped in surprise, not expecting to be swept off your feet by a large pair of arms, “michael! you scared me!” you scolded him as he took the two of you into your dressing room.

“'m sorry sweetheart.” he said trying to hold back the laughter that consumed him. he loved playing tricks on you and most of all, scaring you, but you never did mind his antics. they truly never bothered you that bad. “you looked incredible out there.” he continued with his arms still wrapped around your bare waist. he had grabbed you up too quickly before you could slip on your robe.

“thank you, my love.” you smiled and placed a soft peck on his lips. you loved the way he just automatically knew to pucker his lips when you went in for a kiss—it was something truly endearing to you.

you emerged from his grip to grab the pink and white striped robe that hung from the back of the door, michael relentlessly whining the moment you went away from him. after, putting it on and tying the robe, michael hooked his fingers onto the robe and pulled you back in his embrace.

“michael..” you giggled, your palms falling flat on his chest while his arms found your waist once again.

“can’t get enough of my pretty baby.” he said in an almost whisper before capturing your lips with his. you kissed back slowly and sensually, a hand of yours reaching to the nape of his neck. your tongue breached his mouth, tasting his sweet saliva that tasted of fresh mint.

you pulled back momentarily, pushing against his chest because knowing michael, he’d pull you right back in if you didn’t create some distance. “mm i forgot- i got invited to the after party, did you wanna go?” you asked reluctantly, knowing deep down you really didn’t want to go. you’d rather get home to your teacup shitzu, which was the only dog michael wasn’t afraid of. quoted from him, “they’re like mini stuffed animals.” which had you cackling.

the look of ‘ehhh no’ swallowed michael’s face and that’s when you knew. you knew the man so well that he didn’t even need to use words, you could tell all by the facial expressions.

“well then, let’s get a car and go home.” you instructed him, “chanel is probably waiting for mama.” your tone completely changing with a pout on display.

“and dada.” he added with a smile before picking up the phone to call a car. “uh-huh. the back entrance please. thank you.” you watched michael get serious and there was something about him just being so manly and taking initiative.

“so, ya gonna wear this pretty little outfit for me when we get home?” his eyes shifting back to you, your cleavage on display as the robe slipped open.

“maybe..” you teased when he reached over to pinch your side playfully, swatting his hand away.

let’s say the rest of the night did include you modeling the other test outfits from the show before eventually decorating the floor of your bedroom.

[mikesbian]

Butterflies — Michael Jackson x F. Reader

— SUMMARY: After 6 months of being together, Michael decides that tonight’s the perfect time to ask for just one anniversary gift; he wants you to start controlling him in the bedroom.

— WARNINGS: sub!mike, needy!mike, lots of tension, body worship, size kink, angst (if you look through a microscope), dumbification (kinda…?), face sitting, oral (f receiving), mike has a big dick, handjob, unprotected p in v, nipple play, dacryphilia, no use of ‘y/n’, soft!dom reader, mean!dom reader, use of mommy (kinda), use of ma’am, mike is kinda pussy drunk, timestamps are unimportant, kinda slow burn, gets kinda fluffy at the end, implied aftercare.

— WC: 5.1k (I got carried away…)

— A/N: The winner of this poll. I fs got carried away lmaooo. Like, comment, n reblog! And don’t be shy to flood my asks, i don’t bite..always.

It wasn’t even noticeable at first. Well, not really, until you connected every small instance like one huge puzzle. A particularly suggestive flutter of his eyelashes, a nearly crimson blush on his cheeks whenever you praised him for anything. Then, there was that one time when you called yourself ‘mommy’ as a joke.

You’d just arrived home from your 4-month anniversary dinner date. Your feet were aching; clad in a pair of deep red 8-inch pumps that Michael practically begged you to wear. “I think it’s sexy that you’re taller than me in those heels. Your legs look extra long and beautiful. Please m-, baby? Please, wear them.” That just about undid you.

You’d started regretting letting him sway you like that, though, because you swore that with every step, you could feel a new callous forming on your pinky toe.

“Come help mommy take these things off, baby.” It was said so casually, because it was. Yet, his reaction had you thinking you’d said something offensive. He’d just finished taking off his own loafers, one knee on the floor. He nearly toppled all the way over, and he looked up at you with this almost pained expression. You could’ve sworn you saw tears welling up in his eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so direct. It’s probably the wine…I’ll take them off mys–” He’d waved off your thought with his left hand, cleared his throat, and mumbled something along the lines of “…seriously driving me insane” under his breath, but it sounded lighthearted enough for you not to question him further. The two of you had your best sex yet that night.

Last week, though? It got to a point where Michael damn near made you lose your mind. You put on a pair of jeans that were slightly too long, and you didn’t have time to get them hemmed, so you asked your boyfriend to cuff the bottoms for you, playfully pretending to press your stiletto onto his chest while he knelt down.

“Yes ma’am,” he responded earnestly. He looked up at you while he said it, eyes glazed over with sparkles and something else you couldn’t quite place. There was a faint, crooked smile playing on his lips. One that read: I’m right where I want to be. He clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head like he was in the presence of royalty, then continued on with the task.

Really, it was a very quick exchange. Almost even casual; you just so happened to remember every aspect of it because it ruined you and your panties for the next two days.

That’s what’d been on your mind all afternoon. The two of you decided to spend your 6-month anniversary at a beachfront resort. Michael rented the whole thing out nearly two months in advance, your display of subtle dominance on your 4-month anniversary influencing the idea. He had a plan, and all he needed to do was gather up the confidence to act upon it.

You two took a series of photos on the digital camera he gifted you, involving various activities; a photo of you eating the breakfast he cooked the two of you in your suite’s kitchen, one of him almost missing his step on the jetski he was gonna race you on…One of you towering above him as he adjusted the delicate golden anklet he gave you the day prior, the cursive M glinting in the sunlight. He coughed hysterically to cover up the sound of its shudder, internally chastising himself for forgetting to turn off the sound in its settings.

When you two got home, he seemed overly eager about the evening, his attitude rubbing off on you. The both of you were a giggling mess, and you were completely sober. Just high off of the presence of the other.

The two of you had dinner reservations at 6:30pm, so you decided to shower together to ‘save water’ and time. Michael basically did the showering for the both of you though, making sure to do every step like you would. You’ve showered together enough for him to know your whole routine, and it made your heart swell with warmth, and your thighs unnoticeably squeeze together with want. He even rinsed and dried the both of you, making sure you didn’t lift your pretty fingers to do anything but grip onto his shoulders for balance.

It made you insatiable.

While you put on the finishing touches of your makeup, Michael approached you with a pleading look settled onto his face.

“Does this shirt look weird untucked? Should I button it up some more?”

You turned around, your unset makeup almost plastering onto his black button up. He looked delicious. Your mouth actually got watery at the sight right in front of you. You gulped down your lust, and met his eyes.

“Michael, you look beautiful. Leave it untucked and unbuttoned just like that. Wow.”

He ducked his head slightly, a faint blush crawling up his neck, as he let out a nervous chuckle. For a man so gorgeous, you’d think he’d be used to compliments from his own girlfriend by now.

“Y-you sure? Tonight’s important. I wanna look like we belong together. Like I belong with you.”

It took everything in you not to ruin your dinner plans and prove it to him right there, your hands fighting the urge to push him onto the bed and show him just how pretty you thought he was.

You cleared your throat and answered with a joking, “Michael, I’d swear you have a praise kink or something, because there’s no way you don’t see just how tasty you look right now.”

You turned back to the mirror, powdering up your face and putting on the remainder of your lip combo.

You didn’t notice just how badly Michael was holding it together from that point forward.

The two of you played the rest of the night cool, though. Nothing out of the ordinary, save for Michael fighting off his neediness when you ordered for him because you noticed him get shy, and when you wiped enchilada sauce off of his face, calling him your ‘clumsy baby.’ Or, the instance where you almost dragged him to the bathroom when you asked if he wanted dessert, and looked at you all lovesick with a, “Yes, please.”

He aggressively adjusted his black jeans, not so subtly, after you told him to pick up the napkin he (purposely) dropped. He felt like he was drunk. His nerves and his body were on fire. He started to down the bottle of wine he purchased for the two of you, for liquid courage. You quickly followed suit. It did nothing to help either of your states.

On the walk back to your suite, Michael’s demeanor nearly killed your buzz. He looked terrified.

“Mikey, baby. What’s wrong?” you asked, stepping in front of him and tilting his head up by his chin so he’d look you in your eyes. The heels you wore had you standing taller than him, and, unbeknownst to you, that only made it worse.

“It’s nothin, baby.” he responded, but his voice wasn’t matching his actions.

“Michael, come on, it’s me. What’s going o-”

“I said it’s nothin’,” he cut you off sharply. His voice was loud- too loud- and he wouldn’t look you in the eyes. He grabbed ahold of the hand that you had underneath his chin, and rushed the two of you the rest of the way to the hotel.

You were furious. Concerned by his terror-stricken face, mostly. But, his sharpness with you stirred something inside that you thought you’d buried, only fueled by the ache in your feet from nearly running in stilettos.

As you made it to your room, you pushed past his usually taller frame, and sat down onto the nearest plush chair, bending over to undo the straps of your pumps. You heard the door close with a click and looked up to see Michael rushing his way towards you, trying to stop you from removing them yourself. The two of you had your hands tangled in a mess; his fingers trying to gently push yours off, and yours almost aggressively shoving his.

“Enough, Michael.”

He gulped loudly, seeming almost embarrassed to look at you.

That was almost enough to ease the fire on your lips. Almost.

“Look at me while I’m speaking to you. What happened, and why are you acting so weird towards me?” Your voice quivered on the latter half of your question, insecurity starting to creep its way through your tone. Your cleared your throat and waited for him to speak.

He sighed visibly at the beginning of your monologue. The words affecting him in a way you couldn’t understand.

He continued removing your shoes as he answered, needing something to keep his eyes away from yours, due to the vulnerable truth behind his actions.

“I…” he cleared his throat. “I want you to control me.”

That was not what you were expecting. You waited, scared that you’d misinterpreted the intentions behind his words, hoping he’d expand on it further. By this point, both of your shoes were off, and he was still kneeling in front of your legs, both of his hands opting to massage on one of your aching feet. He still wasn’t looking at you.

“Mike…?” you asked. Your voice slightly deepened with a lust you were fighting so hard to control. You ran your fingers through his hair softly, eliciting a soft whine from his throat. You used the hand in his hair to gently guide his face up to yours. He obeyed your silent command as soon as you slightly tugged, actions already proving that he meant what you thought he did. Your stomach did a flip. The alcohol in your system was making you extremely sensitive to your emotions, everything heightened. Apparently, Michael was going through the same.

“I-I mean. Well look at you…Your legs are so long, ‘n you take care of me so good. You’re so good at telling people what to do and I always wish it was me on the other end of that. I- I think about you doing things to me. Things that I can’t control. I sometimes try ‘n push your buttons just so you can finally snap at me, but you’re so patient, even though your energy is kinda scary, and that somehow drives me even crazier.” The alcohol had him saying quite literally every word that came into his brain. He’d managed to fully massage all the tension from your feet during the rambling. He gave them each a quick peck and set them down gently onto the plush carpet beneath you. Then he sat up on his knees, properly. Both of his hands were placed on his lap like he was preparing for prayer.

“Please, baby. I can’t take it anymore. I want you to use me and control me and take everything I have. I want you to be mean to me and I want you to punish me for being rude earlier. Put me in my place, please. Please, pleasepleaseplease. It’s embarrassing, but I really do want this.” He added the last part after he noticed you weren’t responding, embarrassment and alcohol settling into his bones. He started sniffling, his eyes rimming with tears.

You didn’t say a word. Silently, you stood up, gripping Michael by the collar, dragging his frame up with yours, and then crashed your lips into his. He whimpered loudly. The sound shred the last bit of sanity you had left. The two of you tumbled through the doors that led to your room, his socks being kicked off and your shawl strewn onto the floor on the way there.

You turned him around and shoved him onto the bed forcefully. Michael looked up at you like you held the universe up just for him. Your hands made their way to his shirt first. The opened buttons were driving you crazy all day. You started unbuttoning, but grew impatient, opting to just aggressively pull them apart instead, buttons popping off and flying onto the floor in the act.

Michael was a whimpering mess beneath you, and you hadn’t even touched him properly. His hands were at his sides and his body was rigid. He hadn’t even tried touching you.

“Mikey, baby. You know you can touch me, right?”

“I just wanted your permission first ma- ahem. Baby.”

“What was that?” you questioned, catching his slip-up.

“Nothin’,” Mike said, clearly embarrassed. He tried kissing you after to cover it up, but the alcohol in your system made you not care. You pushed his torso back down onto the bed.

“Don’t lie to me, Michael. I can stop all this right now,” you said sternly.

“I..Uhm. It’s just.. sometimes I kinda wanna call you..mommy…?” He phrased it like a question.

That’s how you ended up the position the two of you were in right now. Him with his head propped up on the spare pillows he requested earlier, and your body propped up on his face, straddling it. Michael was going dumb beneath you, fully letting your core and the alcohol in his veins consume him.

“Mmm, Mikey. I didn’t know you had this in you,” you say with surprise laced into your voice. And it’s true. The two of you had sex a few times, but he usually seemed okay with taking over for you. Only now did you realize that it was more of him servicing you than taking control.

“I’ve always had it in me, m- ah baby,” he says, slightly pushing his head further into the pillow so he can speak.

You grab one of his nipples and pinch it harshly.

“Did I say you could stop? Don’t think I forgot about your little attitude earlier.”

That only turns him on further though, his hips jutting into the air immediately at the rough contact.

“N-no. I’m sor- ah- sorry baby. You’re right. I’ve been s-so bad,” his voice melting into a needy whine on the last word.

“Yeah, so bad. I- mmm- s-should teach you a lesson, shouldn’t I?”

“P-please. Please do whatever you want to me. I’ll make it up to y…ou, mmm.”

In one swift movement, you climb off of his face, and settle your soaking core onto his bare chest. You take your right hand and place it onto his neck with no pressure- yet.

“How sorry are you?” you question, his fucked out face only fueling your actions.

“Really sorry. Sorrier than I can even put into words,” he jumbled out. Not good enough. You give him a slight slap on the face, and then grip onto his neck with more fervor. He moans like it’s his first time being touched sexually.

“That’s it? You’re sooo sorry you can’t even say it?” you scoff at him, playing up your anger just to see him fold beneath your grasp. You begin grinding down hard onto his chest, reveling in this.

“N-no! I mean, yes, b-but, fuck keep using me like that please. I just, I have to show you. Let me show you?” he says, still trying to work your pussy between each word.

“Hmm, go ahead then,” you respond almost immediately, intrigued by his request.

He tenderly grabs onto your thighs and lifts your body up off of his chest, and places you next to him, sliding from the bed in the same movement. Then, he eagerly walks to the foot of the bed and sinks onto his knees, beckoning you toward him with two of his fingers, his twinkling eyes never leaving yours.

“Join me, please?” he asks, voice laced with desire.

You seductively crawl toward him, his body looking meek in this position. You can feel your core drip more at the sight of him. He uncrosses your legs for you, making sure to do all of the work. He’s gonna prove to you just how sorry he is for not being a good boy.

He takes one of your legs and starts to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to every inch of it; from the tips of your toes, to the backs of your knees. His eyes never leave yours. He’s waiting for some sign of approval, a praise, anything that tells him he’s making up for it, but you sit there in shock, staring at the submissive man beneath you. You’re almost too scared to move, afraid that any action or sound will break the spell.

Then he starts to speak. “You’re so beautiful. Your body’s like a painting that only Michelangelo himself could’ve imagined. How could I have been so stupid? You deserve everything. I’m gonna give you everything,” he says between kisses.

“This?” he says, kissing your inner thigh, “I don’t even deserve it. I’m lucky to be able to touch you like this. Lucky ta even see you like this.”

He grabs onto your hips, and looks up at you, pleading.

“M gonna make you feel so good. I promise.”

Michael kisses up the soft skin of your stomach, making sure to save what’s beneath it for last. Then, he makes it to your breasts, and drool dribbles out of his mouth as he speaks.

“I don’t even deserve these,” he says, almost to himself with a sigh. He peppers kisses to the undersides of them, teasing his way up to your erect nipples. Then, he takes one into his mouth, suckling like a man starved. You nearly scream from pleasure at the contact, causing Michael to look up with worry, only for him to see your blissed expression. He grabs your other nipple and rolls it between his fingers, still holding eye contact with you.

“F-fuck Michael, that’s it baby. Just like that.”

He switches his ministrations to your next nipple, replacing his mouth with his hand, and his hand with his mouth. He starts whimpering louder and louder with each gasp you take, your arousal fueling his tenfold. You feel high. You try clamping your legs together, but his lanky body is blocking you from doing so, eliciting a whine from your lips. He notices this. He notices everything. He removes the hand from your nipple and immediately starts rubbing languid, deep circles on your clit. You let out a loud moan straight from your diaphragm, internally thanking Michael for renting the whole resort out for the two of you.

Michael’s lips detach from your tit with a pop. “You like this?” he questions genuinely, wanting to be good for you.

“Mike- fuck- yes! L-love it! So good!” You can barely even think properly, your mind only focused on how his long fingers work your clit with ease.

“Mmm,” he responds, not fully satisfied with himself. He doesn’t want you to love it. He wants you to crave it.

He gets up and straddles your waist, fingers still slowly rubbing your clit, searching your neck for its sweet spot with his lips. When you buck your core into his hand at a particular area, he starts licking and biting on it, hungrily inhaling the perfume on your neck in the process.

“You-ngh. You smell so sweet. Did you wear my favorite perfume for me?” he asks, a wave of gratitude crashing onto him.

“Y-yes Mike. Come on- more. I need more. Give me more.” You’re desperate now. You have half a mind not to start fucking yourself on his fingers right there, but he’s one step ahead.

His fingers slide straight into your pussy, and your walls clenched around them immediately, not expecting the intrusion so suddenly. Your back arches up off the bed, lifting both of you in the process.

“M sorry. I’m gonna get you there baby. I promise.” Without another word, he carefully slides back down your frame, and starts suckling at your clit like he’s tasting ice cream for the first time ever, his fingers still curling and pumping in and out of you. Your eyes start to water.

“Ohhhh my- fuuuuuck. Mikeyyy, baby mmm. S-shit. I feel sososo good. So good. You’re so good to me baby. My perfect- ah. My perfect angel. S-so pretty on your knees for me.” You smile at him weakly and squeeze his head in between your thighs forcefully, grinding yourself onto his mouth and nose. The dichotomy is giving him whiplash.

The praise that you give Michael is driving him halfway insane. He moans erotically into your squelching pussy, pumping his fingers into you faster and harsher, squeezing his thighs together for his own relief. The sight of you using him like this is making his brain go numb, the only thing on his mind is making up for his behavior earlier. Making sure you’re feeling good.

Your legs start to shake uncontrollably now, a telltale sign of your orgasm approaching.

This fuels Michael further.

“Please cum on my face. I wanna taste it, ma.”

You almost do it on the spot, but you have other plans. You lightly kick his face from between your legs and his mouth detaches from your pussy loudly. He looks at you confused, his face glistening with your arousal.

“I’m sorry. Did I do something wro-” You interrupt him by slamming your lips onto his, the force of it pushing his torso onto the floor. You moan at the taste of yourself on his mouth, your tongue searching for his in the process. You break the kiss and lean into his ear with a seductive whisper. “I want to fuck you, Michael.”

His entire body goes rigid and he gasps loudly. You palm him through his jeans, feeling his dick straining against the black fabric. He sucks in a sharp breath, wanting so desperately for more friction, while simultaneously wanting to show you he can be good.

“Ohhh, were you this hard all this time, baby?” you coo at him, loving how the condescending tone in your words feels.

“A-ah yes. I just wanted you to feel good,” he replies between choked breaths, seemingly trying not to pass out. He loves how dumb you’re making him feel.

“Aww my good boy, you did so well for me. I think it’s time for us to both feel good together, hmm?” you ask him, eager for his response. He looks so pretty like this, and his whimpers sound even prettier.

“O-only if that’s what you want. Ngh- everything’s your choice. Everything, everything,” he slurs out, already losing his grasp on reality due to the way you’re speaking to him and the way you rub hungrily against his clothed erection.

You unzip his jeans faster than he can even process and pulled them down off his legs along with his boxers, his leaking erection slapping against his abdomen harshly.

“Look at me,” you command him. He obeys without a second thought.

You take your pretty manicured hands and begin to jerk him off slowly, enjoying the way he tries not to grind up into your hands because he’s your good boy.

You speed up your actions faster, faster, faster, until you see Michael nearing his climax. He’s warning you over and over that he’s gonna cum, not wanting to before you do. Not after his behavior today. He didn’t deserve it, and you agree.

“Baby, pleeeeease, ‘m so close. Can’t do it. You have ta first. Iss too good ‘n i can’t hold it,” he whines, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. You kiss them away and go faster, ignoring his cries. The tears only turned you on further.

“F-FUCK! BABY I’M GONN-” You stop moving your hand entirely, and squeeze down on his dick hard.

“Wh-wha..” Michael trails off, not knowing how to speak anymore.

“Thank you,” he says, looking up at you with tear-filled eyes, chest heaving. He knew better than to complain- you touching him at all was enough.

You lean up to give him a quick kiss, before lining his dick up with your entrance and sinking down onto it. The stretch was enough to make your legs shake and almost make you fall over. You can’t take it all at once, opting to go slowly, grinding yourself against it in the meantime.

“Oh my GOD,” Michael cries out, propping himself up on his elbows so he can look at you. You look like an answered prayer.

“Mikey, you’re too big,” you whine out, drawling the last word out on purpose.

“I’m sor-ry,” he sincerely apologizes. It would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so turned on by his facial expression. You sink the rest of the way down, too impatient to care about the burn. You grip onto his neck for support and start riding him slowly, your thighs burning with pain and pleasure. Michael moans at the feeling of your delicate fingers around his neck again and he loses his filter completely.

“Please choke me again. Hard. Control when I can breathe,” he begs you. You do just that and start bouncing against his length, the begging and whimpering from your boyfriend turning you on more than you’ve ever been.

His eyes start to roll back, and you loosen your grip so that he can gasp for air, his lungs greedily swallowing the oxygen creeping in. He starts rolling his hips up into yours to help, knowing riding isn’t easy for women. Always the gentleman, even when you’re fucking his brains out. He looks into your eyes, grabs your free hand and starts sucking on your fingers, muffling his moans with them from embarrassment. You don’t know whether to be angry that he won’t let you hear them, or turned on from the sight, so you grind and choke him harder.

His eyes fog over and he drools onto his chest, arching his back up to meet all of your grinds. You loosen your grip once again.

“Let me hear your pretty voice, baby,” you drawl at him, removing your fingers from his mouth and using them to play with your nipple. That basically does it for him.

“Baaaaaaby. Oh my god I-I can’t even think. You’re s-so good to me and- YEAH keep touching yourself like that please. You’re so beauti-f-ful. I’m never letting you go. You’re t-too perfect iss driving me crazy. Plea-” you choke him again- “Mmmfuck. Please cum on me. Please use my body to cum.”

“Then fuck me like you want it, Mike,” you order, dragging your fingers down from his neck, using your nails to scratch all the way down to his chest.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He flips you over and pins you beneath him, and begins thrusting into you the exact way he knows you like it, totally focusing on your pleasure.

“Michael! Baby fuckkkkkk, you…feel sooo good. Don’t stop!”

“I won’t, baby.” He presses a hand onto your stomach for comfort, but what he felt flipped a switch in him. He looked down and saw himself moving inside of your belly.

“Oh my god…” he gasped out, making you look at him with concern. “B-baby. I can see myself inside of you,” he says, genuinely surprised.

“It’s ‘cause you’re so big,” you say, pouting at him. “G-go ahead, baby. Fuck me until m’ cervix is shaped like your dick.” He groans at the filth in your words, doing just as you say. His body begins to shake with pleasure. He feels so good, too good. Like something only his imagination could come up with. He starts drooling again.

The sight above you is getting you so close to your release. You reach your hand down to your clit and started playing with it, making sure to tilt Michael’s face down to watch before you do so. You want to put on a show for him. It is your anniversary, after all.

“M gonna cum for you Mikey. ‘M gonna make a mess of that pretty dick of yours,” you say nastily. You can feel the knot in your stomach start to tighten more and more.

“Y-Yes! Please cum all over me. Please turn me into a mess,” he begs, and that did it. Your entire body locks up and your vision turns blurry.

“Michael FUCK!” you scream- genuinely scream- out in pleasure. You grip onto his shoulders with all the force you can muster, mumbling out praises of “You’re so pretty” and “Did so good” until your lips fall numb. He rides you through the whole thing, legs shaking and forehead dripping with sweat.

“C-can I please cum? It hurts…” You look at him with surprise, not realizing he was still going for you, and it almost does enough for you to want a round two.

“Oh, Michael. You’re so obedient. I didn’t realize you were still going, love. Cum inside me, baby. Fill me up.”

He whimpers and cums on command, his body stilling and his toes curling up in pleasure. His eyes roll so far back into his head that you can’t even see his irises anymore.

“Thank you, thank you, thank y- ahh, thank you. ‘M so so-ahhhgghh, so sorry. I’ll be good forever ‘m sorry my pretty girl.”

His sweaty body collapses onto yours, and you two lay there for a while, his dick still inside of you, fully softened up.

After at least ten minutes of this, Michael speaks.

“So…Can we do this again?” he asks hesitantly.

“Michael,” you start, “I don’t think I can ever go back. Do you know how sexy you are when you’re submissive?” Your thighs start to clench again at the thought of what you two got up to tonight.

“O-oh. Really? It wasn’t too much?” he asks shyly as he rolls off of your body.

“Really. You should’ve said something sooner, angel face. I prefer being dominant,” you reveal, although you’re sure it was obvious.

“I was just shy, is all. But you? I don’t think- no, I know I’ve never seen anything or anyone as sexy as you were tonight. I feel like I died from bliss and met God. Truly, you were heavenly. I didn’t want any of it to end.”

“It doesn’t have to…We still have a whole weekend to spend here,” you offer, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. He blushes a deep red.

“I’m gonna go get our stuff ready for a bath,” you say. “Tidy up the room for when we’re back, yeah?”

“I’ll do anything for you,” Michael says, clearly still pussy drunk. He grabs your hand before you head to the bathroom.

“I love you. I’m not just saying that because of what we did tonight, you know that. But I love you. Thank you for being the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ll cherish you for all of my days, and even afterwards, if I can.“ He gives you a brief, yet passionate kiss on the lips. “I’ll be as quick as possible. Happy anniversary, pretty girl.”

“Happy anniversary, Michael,” you say, trying not to cry. You don’t know how you’d gotten so lucky.

[mjsweets]

TIRES AND TEARS—!Jaafar x !fiancée reader, jaafar is under anesthesia after wisdom teeth removal surgery and he’s just embarrassing and adorable.

✦- fluff fluff and more fluff ^^

(this is heavily inspired by this fic! and not proofread soz xp)

Your sneaker taps against the tile floor of the dentist office as Jaafar’s hand rests against your thigh, waiting for his name to be called.

“I’m genuinely praying I don’t do some bullshit under anesthesia.” He exclaims, clapping his hands together and “praying.”

“If you do, it’ll be recorded immediately.” You tease him.

He rolls his eyes at your remark.

“Jaafar?” A voice calls out.

You Both get up and approach the dental assistant, who guides you to his room.

“Alright Jaafar, they’re gonna place you under an anesthetic first so you don’t feel anything. Then the dentist will take the wisdom teeth out. If it’s stuck under the gum, they might have to make a tiny cut to get to it. You’ll probably feel some pressure, but it shouldn’t hurt. After that, they’ll put gauze in your mouth and send you home with instructions and some ice packs. Easy.” The woman explains to both of you.

“Alright, thank you so much.” He replies with a smile before lying down on the plasticky dental chair.

“I’m gonna go grab your dentist really fast i’ll be back.” She says before leaving the room.

“You ready babe? Wanna squeeze my hand while they put the IV in.” You say chuckling.

“I’ll be fine trust me.” He says with a smirk.

***

The dentist, anesthesiologist, and assistant walk back into the small white room with a plethora of supplies.

“Alright ma’am i have a chair for you over here if you’d like to sit down.” The dentist says, pointing to the chair in the corner near Jaafar.

“Yeah, thank you.” You say with a tight lipped smile.

The dentist gives Jaafar the rundown of the procedure again, the anesthesiologist drops down a bit beside him before placing the IV in his arm.

He adjusted the IV in Jaafar’s arm and smiled.

“Alright, this is the medication that’s going to help you relax. You’ll start feeling sleepy in just a moment.”

Jaafar nodded, though he looked unconvinced.

A cool sensation traveled up his arm as the medicine entered his bloodstream. At first, nothing happened. Then the room began to feel strangely light, like he was floating in the chair.

“Whoa,” he mumbled, blinking up at the ceiling. “That’s… weird.”

A laugh escaped him for no reason at all.

The dentist chuckled. “That’s normal.”

Jaafar tried to say something else, but his thoughts felt slow and fuzzy. The bright lights overhead blurred together, and his eyelids suddenly seemed far too heavy to keep open.

“Okay,” he slurred. “I get why people don’t drive on this stuff.”

The last thing he remembered hearing was quiet laughter from the staff before the room drifted away.

***

You watched as the dentist worked over jaafar, twisting metal materials near his mouth, pulling out a sharp white tooth.

“Alright we’re on the last tooth.” The dentist says muffled through his mask.

You nod as jaafar’s glossy eyes drift to you. You can see him try to speak, then realize it was probably a bad idea.

The dentist pulls back for a moment to grab more gauze before Jaafar’s lips start to move.

“Oh no why I can’t feel my mouth.” He says, muffled slightly by the gauze in his mouth.

“Jaafar I don’t think you’re supposed to talk right now, but it’s just your Getting your teeth removed and It’s to stop you from feeling pain.” You reply.

He looks completely dazed, your sentence going through one ear and out the other one.

The dentist returns to his work, Jaafar going silent again.

***

The dentist has finished the procedure, and you and jaafar are just waiting for the dentist to let you guys go, and grab a wheelchair for jaafar.

“You’re very pretty.” He slurs out.

You laughed. “The anesthesia’s still working, huh?”

“Who is anesthesia? You’re just very preeeettyy.”

A few seconds passed.

“Like… really pretty.”

“Thank you, you’re very cute too.”

“Heyyyy don’t say that i’m shy.” He says, blush creeping up to his cheeks.

Another few seconds.

“Did you know we’re engaged?” You say.

You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from laughing.

“Really? How did I do that.” He says, his eyes widening in shock.

“You said yes?” He says, acting like this was groundbreaking information.

“I did.”

“You should do it again.”

“What?”

“Say yes again.”

You laughed so hard you nearly dropped your phone, not forgetting to record this for him.

The assistant at the desk was clearly trying not to smile.

Jaafar leaned closer.

“I have a ring and everything. It’s shiny look.” He says, attempting to lift his arm, tugging on the IV

“baby don’t do that it’s going to rip your IV out.” You say pushing his arm back down.

“Fuck the IV I wanna show it.” He says, way too loud.

“I’ll remove it for you.” The assistant says to him smiling.

She does so and returns to her desk.

“It was expensive, the ring.”

You covered your face in an attempt to hide your laugh

“I love you.” he says, shifting his emotions immediately, giving you a big smile.

“Aww. I love you too.” You say smiling back.

The door to the recovery room swung open, and the dentist stepped inside pushing a wheelchair.

“Alright, Jaafar,” he said cheerfully. “Time to head out.”

Jaafar squinted at the wheelchair.

“No.”

The dentist blinked. “No?”

“I’m not using that.”

You immediately groaned.

“Jaafar.” You say sternly.

“I’m serious.” He pointed at the chair. “I can walk.” He slurs out.

The dentist exchanged an amused look with you.

“Most people say that.”

“Because most people can walk, D-UH.” He says, exclaiming the D.

Before anyone could stop him, Jaafar pushed himself to his feet.

For one glorious second, he looked completely fine.

Then he swayed, reaching for your touch slightly.

You jumped up from your seat.

“Baby—” You’re cut off.

“I’m okay.”

He took one step.

Then another.

Then his knees seemed to forget how they worked.

The next thing anyone knew, he was stumbling sideways into the wall.

The dentist caught his arm before he could slide to the floor.

“Oh my God,” You said, trying not to laugh.

“I’m fine,” Jaafar insisted.

“You just lost a fight with gravity.”

“I wasn’t ready, so it wasn’t fair.”

You pointed toward the wheelchair.

“Get in the chair.”

“No.” He said crossing his arms.

“Chair.”

“No.” He said sticking his middle finger up.

You grabbed the handles and rolled it directly in front of him.

“Sit.”

Jaafar looked from you to the wheelchair and back again.

His lower lip stuck out in a dramatic pout.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am on your side.”

“Then why are you making me sit in the grandma chair?”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore.

“Because I don’t want my fiancé face-planting in the parking lot.”

“I wouldn’t, i’m too smoooooth.” he says making a wave with his hand.

“You are so corny right now babe.”

“I am not that’s mean.”

“And for your information I slipped, not faceplanted.”

“You were standing still.”

After a long moment of stubborn silence, Jaafar finally dropped into the wheelchair with a defeated sigh.

“There. Happy?” He exclaims.

“Very.”

As you began pushing him toward the exit, Jaafar reached up and grabbed your hand.

“You know,” he said dreamily, “I’d let you push me around even without the anesthesia.”

You groaned.

The dentist laughed.

And Jaafar sat there grinning proudly, as if he’d just delivered the smoothest pickup line in human history.

***

By the time you reached the car, the dentist was long gone, probably laughing about the whole wheelchair incident.

“Okay,” You said, opening the passenger door. “Let’s get you buckled in before you hurt yourself again.”

“I literally didntttuhhh.”

“Twice, you did twice.”

“Liessss”

You shook your head and helped him stand from the wheelchair.

For a moment, everything seemed fine.

Then—

“OW!”

Jaafar jumped back, grabbing the side of the car.

“What happened?” You asked.

“My toe!”

“What?”

“My toe!” he repeated, horrified.

He pointed accusingly at the tire.

“It hit me, fuck you!” He says pointing to the tire, and apparently cussing it out too.

You stared at him.

“You stubbed your toe?”

He nodded miserably.

The anesthesia hadn’t worn off one bit, it had left enough room for him to be deeply offended by the situation.

“It hurtsssss.”

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“You’re okay.”

“No, I’m notuhhhh.”

“You are.”

“I think it’s broken, or i’m dying.”

“It’s definitely not broken and your definitely not dying baby.”

Jaafar looked down at his shoe and then back at you.

To your absolute disbelief, his eyes started watering.

“Oh, come on baby.”

“It really hurt me.”

A single tear escaped.

You burst out laughing.

“Don’t laugh at me! I am dying and you’re laughing!”

“I’m sorry,” You said, trying—and failing—to stop.

“You don’t understand my suffering.”

His voice cracked dramatically on the word suffering.

That only made you laugh harder.

Jaafar crossed his arms.

“I thought you loved me.”

“I do love you.”

“Then why are you laughing while I’m passing away!”

“passing away?”

“My toe got attacked.”

You finally managed to compose yourself enough to step closer.

“You’re ridiculous.”

He sniffed.

“I thought you said i’m cute.”

His pout somehow got even bigger.

Shaking your head, you reached up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

Immediately, Jaafar’s expression brightened.

Another kiss.

“There we go.”

The pout vanished entirely.

“Wow.”

“What?”

“I think it worked, baby you need to become a doctor like right now.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Of course you do.”

“No, seriously.” He grinned. “My toe feels way better.”

“Funny how that happened.”

Jaafar leaned his forehead against yours, smiling lazily.

“I think I might need another one pleeeeease.”

You laughed.

“You are adorable right now.”

“Hey, no no no I am tall dark and handsome.”

“Excuse me?” You burst out laughing again.

And judging by the smile you couldn’t stop, he wasn’t wrong.

***

The second Jaafar was buckled into the passenger seat, he looked exhausted.

You reached over and adjusted the ice pack resting against his cheek before starting the car.

“You comfortable?”

Jaafar gave a sleepy thumbs-up.

Five minutes later, he was out cold.

You glanced over at a red light and smiled.

His head had fallen against the window, his mouth slightly open, bloody gauze slipping out a bit, curls falling into his eyes. Every now and then the car would hit a bump and his head would gently knock against the glass.

Poor thing.

After his antics at the dentist’s office, he looked strangely peaceful asleep.

The rest of the drive passed quietly.

By the time you pulled into the driveway, Jaafar hadn’t moved.

You turned off the car.

Nothing.

“Jaafar.”

No response.

You reached over and lightly touched his shoulder.

“Baby.”

A sleepy groan escaped him.

“We’re home.”

His eyes cracked open.

“No we’re not.”

you laughed

“We literally are.”

Jaafar looked out the window.

“Oh.”

A pause.

Then—

“I don’t wanna get out.”

“Too bad.”

He immediately closed his eyes again in protest.

You shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Jaafar.”

“No.”

“You have to go inside.”

“I live here.”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll go inside later.”

“You’re sitting in the driveway.”

He thought about that.

“Okay.”

Another pause.

“Carry me, like a princess.”

You laughed so hard you nearly snorted.

“Absolutely not.”

Eventually, after much complaining, you managed to get him inside.

***

The second you stepped through the front door, Jaafar kicked off his shoes and shuffled toward the couch, jerking you with him as you held up his shoulders.

You were halfway through grabbing a blanket when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist.

You looked over your shoulder.

Jaafar was practically asleep standing up.

“Come cuddle.”

“Don’t you need water first?”

“Cuddle.”

“Medicine?”

“Cuddle.”

“Ice pack?”

“Cuddleeeeee.”

There was absolutely no winning this argument.

With a sigh, you lead him to the couch.

The moment you sat down, Jaafar collapsed ontop of you and immediately wrapped both arms around you like a human blanket.

“Comfortable?” You asked.

A smirk appeared on his lips as he brought his hands up to your boobs,squeezing them slightly.

“Very.”

“Hey hands to yourself buddy.” You say swatting his hands away.

His face disappeared into the crook of your neck.

Within seconds, you could feel him relaxing against your chest.

The tough, stubborn attitude he’d had all morning was completely gone.

Now he just looked sleepy.

You ran your fingers through his curls.

Jaafar let out a content little hum.

“Love you.”

The words were muffled against your shoulder.

yousmiled and kissed the top of his head.

“Love you too.”

His arms tightened slightly around you.

“Yaaayyy”

A minute later, you glanced down.

His eyes were closed.

His breathing had evened out.

You laughed quietly and pulled the blanket over both of your bodies.

Jaafar shifted closer in his sleep, as if that were somehow possible.

And for once, he wasn’t talking.

Which might have been the most miraculous part of the entire wisdom tooth removal.

***

The two of you ended up sleeping for most of the afternoon.

At some point, the sunlight that had been streaming through the windows faded into the warm glow of early evening.

Jaafar was the first to wake up.

He groaned and stretched, immediately regretting it when his jaw reminded him exactly why he’d spent the day unconscious.

“Ow.”

Below him you stirred.

“Welcome back to the world.” You mumble out.

Jaafar blinked a few times.

The foggy, floaty feeling from the anesthesia was gone now. His thoughts felt normal again.

Mostly.

“What time is it?”

“Almost 9pm.” You reply checking your phone.

His eyes widened.

“We slept that long?”

“Apparently.”

Jaafar rubbed a hand over his face.

“That’s insane.”

You were trying very hard not to smile.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.”

The grin got worse.

“What?”

You unlocked your phone.

“While you were busy being heavily medicated today, I happened to get some videos.”

Immediately, Jaafar’s expression changed.

“Noooo what the hell did I do.”

“Oh yes.”

“No.”

You were already opening your camera roll.

The first video started playing.

On screen, Jaafar was sitting in the dentist’s office, confidently insisting he didn’t need the wheelchair.

Then came the part where he took two steps and nearly collapsed into the wall.

The video shook violently because You had started laughing while recording.

Present-day Jaafar buried his face in his hands.

“Oh my God.”

“You were so confident.”

“I look so stupid”

“You looked like a baby deer.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

He peeked through his fingers.

“Okay, fair.”

The next video started.

Unfortunately for Jaafar, it was worse.

Much worse.

The footage showed him standing beside the car after stubbing his toe.

“Oh no.”

You were already wheezing.

“Oh no is right buddy.”

Jaafar pointed dramatically at the tire.

“My toe!”

Present-day Jaafar groaned.

“Turn it off.”

You absolutely did not.

“I think it’s broken!”

Then came the part.

The tears.

Tiny, dramatic tears.

Present-day Jaafar immediately grabbed a throw pillow and covered his face.

“Oh hell no.”

You were laughing so hard you could barely breathe.

“No, no, no.”

“‘You don’t understand my suffering,’” You quoted.

“I was under the influence.”

“‘My toe got attacked.’” You mimicked.

“Oh my God.”

“‘I thought you loved me.’” Mocking him again.

“STOP.”

You nearly fell off the couch.

Meanwhile Jaafar had completely disappeared behind the pillow.

“This is blackmail material.”

“It absolutely is.”

“Delete it.”

“Never.”

“Please.”

“Nuh uh.”

A horrified laugh escaped him.

“I cannot believe I cried over my toe.”

“You cried over lightly bumping your toe.”

“It really hurt.. apparently?”

The second the words left his mouth, both of you burst out laughing.

Jaafar leaned back against the couch, covering his eyes.

“This is never happening again.”

“No shit.”

“You’re showing this to people, aren’t you?”

You tried to look innocent.

“Nope.”

That alone was enough of an answer.

“Traitor.”

You scooted closer and rested your head on his shoulder.

“You’re cute when you’re drugged.”

“I was a disaster.”

“A cute disaster.”

Jaafar sighed dramatically.

“One day, I’m going to embarrass you this badly.”

“I’m breaking your phone before my appointment.”

He smiled despite the threat and wrapped an arm around you.

The embarrassment was still there, but honestly?

Looking back on it now, it was pretty funny.

Especially the toe part.

“…I still think that tire came out of nowhere.”

That sent both of you into another fit of laughter.

@@katies notes™ .✦ ݁˖ 𝜗𝜚

[kryptonianheart]

Half Awake, Fully Yours

pairing: Jaafar Jackson x f!reader summary: Getting your fiancé through wisdom tooth surgery should be simple. Except Jaafar, who never says anything out of line, has apparently left all his self-control at the door of the operating room. warnings: 18+ MDNI, suggestive content, anesthesia doing its thing, dirty talk (kinda? idk), established relationship word count: 1.6k words image credits: anotherpartoffme, davischloe881, filmsbyavs and themastersreign on tumblr

a/n: sooooo, this is my longest fic in a good, good while. I really enjoyed writing it, so I hope you guys enjoy it too! Forgive me if my sense of humor was only funny in my own head lol ✦ · · · ✦ · · · ✦ · · · ✦ · · · ✦ · · · ✦ · · · ✦ · · · ✦ · · · ✦ · · ·

You should have known. You absolutely should have known.

Even before Jaafar told you he was getting his wisdom teeth out and that he would need you around for the post-anesthesia aftermath, you'd already lost count of how many videos you'd seen online of kids and adults saying the wildest things after the procedure.

You'd even sent some of them to a Jaafar who hadn't even considered the possibility yet, with captions like "your turn is coming." It was only natural to expect something like that, but why did nobody warn you it would be a thousand times worse?

She's probably loving every second of this, you thought, glancing at the nurse from the corner of your eye. Obviously she wouldn't warn you it would be a thousand times worse - obviously she would kill to be alone with Jaafar in a moment like this. Bitch. She was ogling Jaafar so hard you were tempted to pull her wisdom teeth out yourself, right then and there.

If you didn't have to worry about the fact that Jaafar had nearly undressed himself three times, almost stabbed himself with a scalpel that was dangerously within reach, and belted out Livin' On a Prayer at the top of his lungs - or, as he sang it, "peeing on the mayor" - in the last five minutes, you would have absolutely been the one sticking that scalpel somewhere near the nurse instead.

Jaafar seemed both fine and not fine at the same time. The surgery had gone well and he just needed a few good days to recover, but now came the fun part: waiting for the anesthesia to wear off. He was more restless than usual and way more talkative, and you kept going back and forth between wanting to help him and wanting to film him for blackmail material later.

Surprisingly, Jaafar hadn't quite registered your presence yet, which for now put you on equal footing with the nurse who was already occupying the space. And showing absolutely no signs of leaving. What do you want, you evil witch? He's not taking his clothes off again as long as I'm here.

"I need to pee right now-now or I'm gonna turn into a faaau-cet, do you want that? Pee-ee leaking like a faucet? I don't think so, my pee-ee is very hea-"

"Jaafar, your pee is very healthy," you cut in, with a smile on your face.

That was the first time he actually looked looked at you. His eyes, still glazed over from the anesthesia, did nothing to hide the admiration that washed over him as he looked you up and down, letting out a whistle so loud you felt your cheeks burn on the spot.

"Who are you?"

"It's me, baby," you said with a small laugh, though a seed of worry settled in your chest. Did he really not recognize you?

"Is it my birthday? What is this little piece of caaaa-ndy? I'm gonna need to unwrap it to see if it's-"

"Jaafar!" you said, equally mortified and in disbelief.

Jaafar was a reserved, shy man. There was only one moment his mouth became dirtier than anything you'd ever heard, and that was when he completely lost control in bed. But hearing him say things like that was rare enough. I don't want to disrespect you, he always said. Hearing him say it in public? Code red.

"What? I really want something sweet right now," he said, his voice dripping with a barely-disguised second meaning.

"Yeah, easy there, Willy Wonka, the one thing you absolutely cannot eat right now is sugar," you said calmly, taking a sip of your juice.

"Nobody said I can't eat you."

The coughing that tore through you was so sudden and violent that for a moment you genuinely considered that this was how it ended. The nurse glanced over and moved to help, but you waved her off quickly to signal you were fine. Oh sure, go ahead and finish suffocating me, why don't you?

"Jaafar, you're not going to remember any of this. And I will happily tell your brother every single word."

"You know my brother? Who are you?" he asked again, suddenly very curious about how a woman this beautiful would know so much about him. Thank you, Lord.

"She's your fiancée, Jaafar. Don't you remember?" The nurse's cold voice cut through the room for the first time, and it was like a thousand tiny daggers straight to your ribs. Yeah, you kinda wished you'd choked after all.

"My fiancée?" Jaafar's eyes went wide as he looked at you again, placing a hand dramatically over his heart.

"Unless you've changed your mind and don't want to-"

"Don't want to what?"

"Marry me."

"Bury you?"

"Jesus, baby, marry me."

"Although I really would like to bury... my dick in your pus-"

"Jaafar, oh my God!"

That was enough to send the nurse huffing out of the room. If I'd known, I would've climbed him myself.

"What? He really needs some comfort right now."

"What?"

"My little friend down he-ere. He saw you and gave you a standing ovation."

"A standi- Jaafar, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong. Everything down here is very, very right”

You genuinely didn't know whether to laugh, dig a hole in the floor, record all of it, or call the nurse back in to double-check that the anesthesia doses had been anywhere near reasonable.

“I’ll die if you don’t kiss me.”

"I'll kiss you, just not right now."

"Why not? Aren't you my fiancée? Don't fiancées kiss their fiancés?"

"Yes, fiancées kiss their fiancés, but right now you'd moan in pain if I kissed you."

"You want to make me moan?"

"Jaafar." You felt your cheeks burning, a subtle wave of heat running between your legs. You almost slapped yourself at the thought, he had just gotten out of surgery, for God's sake.

"So you do want to kiss me."

"Jaafar."

"Not even a little peck?"

"Are you going to behave?"

He nodded, looking like a mischievous kid who would do absolutely anything to get his reward.

Moving slowly toward him, you cupped his face gently and looked him in the eyes. Even clouded by the anesthesia, the love was still there, in the way he looked at you, melting under your hands. You let your hands slide down to his neck, resting your right one on his chest, which immediately went off like a drum. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thumpthumpthumpthump.

"Are you okay?"

"I'll be better once you kiss me."

You smiled and pressed your lips softly against his. The kiss was quick, light, barely a peck, but just enough to fill your chest with that warm, familiar feeling of home. Jaafar tried to deepen it, but you pulled back, remembering it could hurt him.

"Baby..."

"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured, tracing the outline of your lips with his fingertips. "You actually taste like something sweet."

"You're not going to remember any of this later," you murmured, suddenly flustered.

"I will absolutely remember the taste of your lips."

“Oh Lord, give me strength.”

"I'll give you something better than strength, do you-”

“Jaafar, I swear to God.”

“Shhh, pretty girl. Stay here with me, come closer", he murmured, and you clenched your thighs together at the sound of pretty girl so close to your ear.

"I'm right here."

"You're not even touching me properly", he said. He might not have recognized you fully in that moment, but his body, heart and mind did, and he wanted you as close as possible.

"Baby, I’m literally touching you."

"Debatable."

"Debatable how? I’m literally tou-"

"Now you are."

And with one swift movement, Jaafar grabbed your hand and guided it right onto his hard cock, making very clear to you that the anesthesia had done absolutely nothing to affect certain things.

"Mr. Jackson, here are your-"

The nurse went as white as her own scrubs at the sight in front of her, as she entered the room unannounced. You could have been mortified. Flustered. Maybe both at once. But the wave of satisfaction that washed over you was so much stronger than any of that.

Better than choking to death, right bitch?

✦ · · · ✦ · · · ✦ · · · ✦ · · · ✦ · · · ✦ · · · ✦ · · · ✦ · · · ✦ · · ·

"I said what?" A mortified Jaafar asked, sitting on the couch in your shared apartment, the anesthesia long worn off.

What hadn't worn off was the shame creeping through him after you'd recounted everything that happened, and that had been twenty minutes ago.

"You said you wanted to unwrap me and eat m-"

"Okay, you don't have to repeat it."

"You're the one who asked."

"Baby, I'm so sorry. I don't know what got into me."

"It's fine, baby. I would've been more worried if you'd said all that to that nurse who was absolutely dying to flirt with you. Right in front of me!"

"What nurse? I didn't even notice anyone else there."

"Right, you were a little too busy putting my hand on your cock to notice much of anything."

"Ughh, no," Jaafar groaned, burying his face in his hands, “This is a nightmare”.

"Hey, there's nothing to be ashamed of, baby. That's just what anesthesia does, don't you remember those videos I sent you?" you asked, sitting beside him on the couch and trying to pull his hands away from his face.

"Yeah, but in none of them was the guy trying to fuck his fiancée in front of everyone," he said, freezing the moment he realized what had slipped out. "I think the anesthesia hasn't fully worn off yet."

"You say much worse things to me in bed."

Jaafar looked at you, a mix of shame and arousal dancing in his eyes, and pressed a slow kiss to your cheek.

"So what do you say... We head upstairs so I can give you a proper standing ovation?"

"I say... I'm sending your brother everything I recorded first," you grinned diabolically, holding up your phone with a frozen frame of Jaafar mid-attempt at his first striptease.

"You wouldn't dare," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh yeah?" you said, already hitting send. "Catch me if you can!"

For the record: he caught you. He always did.

The wisdom teeth could go, but he never would. He was still, and would always be, yours.

[michaelsmelodie]

𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗥𝗢𝗖𝗞. 𖹭 mature.ᐟ michael texts

𑣲. 2OOO. — 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝘂 , est relationship , f.ᐟreader , yall are just in love love.

𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙚'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. ౨ৎ more of this??? since I'm having writers block it's easier to make them smaus lmao <3

© 𝙢𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙚

[cheremj]

Boyfriend!Michael Headcanons

contains fluff and smut, so minors dni!

requested!

boyfriend!michael who’s mind you’re living in rent free, not being able to go a day without seeing something that reminds him of his beautiful girl. He sees your favorite flowers? He’ll always put them in the cart even if that wasn’t on his grocery list to begin with. You lost count on how many he’s given you with the dopest smile he’s ever worn.

He sees a necklace in your favorite color? It’s without a doubt getting gifted to you.

“Michael, it’s lovely, but I really don’t need any more..” you lightly try to tell him, although admiring the shine it holds as you move the pendant side to side in the light.

“It’s in your favorite color though, right?”

“Yes, but—“

“Well, there you go.” And that’s how it always ended, because you knew there will never be a day where you manage to successfully convince your boyfriend to stop showering you with gifts that has meaning behind them.

boyfriend!michael who his favorite music to hear isn’t a band he’s fond of, isn’t his own music, but your laughter.

It’s like he makes it his personal mission every single day to hear you laughing at least once, even if it’s just a giggle. During his day he’ll hear a joke he knows for a fact that you’ll find funny, so when he sees you that same night he tells it to you like he completely made it up himself. No credit to the original, because he needs to be the only man in your life that makes you laugh and find hilarious.

boyfriend!michael who never, ever, shuts the hell up about you. Everyone that’s in his life knows so much about you, some people that you haven’t even met, but it’s because Michael takes any chance he sees to bring up your name in conversation.

“My girl absolutely loves those chocolates you’re having.”

“Hey, that’s her favorite song!”

“Do you know how amazing my angel is at this game? She’d kick your ass.”

Nobody dares to tell him to stop gushing over you, because receiving glaring daggers from Michael Jackson isn’t a very pretty sight to see.

boyfriend!michael who, no matter how hard (not) he tries, can’t keep his hands off of you. He ALWAYS has to touch you, whether that’s none other than a gentle hand on your lap with his thumb rubbing lazy circles into your skin, or him snaking his arms around your torso from behind, needing to be as close as possible to watch whatever task you’re doing.

A hand tight on your waist whenever you two are maneuvering in a frenzied crowd, making sure you never leave his side for a mere second.

Him swaying your tangled hands together high enough for his crazed fans to see, to get the silent message across that he’s utterly devoted to you.

How he sometimes smacks your ass as quiet as he could have it be in public, too amused with the way you try to hold back a squeak and attempt to glare up at him with your cute little flustered face.

How it’s a battle every morning to escape his iron grasp, groaning groggily into your neck to stay an extra five minutes in bed.

You never said no each time.

boyfriend!michael who you rarely argue with, but when you guys do, it completely shifts his entire world.

No work gets done for him when the two of you are in the middle of an argument, because that’s all that is flooding his mind. Pacing back and forth, pulling hair to find ways to make it up to you.

boyfriend!michael who found it best to apologize with his mouth.

It’s slow at first, the way he drags his tongue through your soaked cunt, savoring the taste you offer him. You’re sat on the edge of the bed, legs fighting to stay open, yet he’s more than happy to help you with that as his grip is firm, having you take every sorry his tongue silently tells through every dizzying flick and lap.

Your head tips back, mouth agape to let all breathless moans be set free, hips twitching for more. And more he gives you, hooking one leg over his shoulder to have you further open, slipping his tongue inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, Michael…!” You cry, another curse leaving your mouth as you feel the vibration of his groan against your cunt. His eyes flutter open, watching every scrunch of your face, every gorgeous noise you make that goes straight to his hardening cock in his confined jeans. Although it’s not about him right now, it’s about your forgiveness he’s desperately chasing after for.

“I’m so sorry baby, I’m so sorry…” You hear him mumble between your legs, between each circle and suck he gives to your clit. The way he works your clit in rapid, hungry circles, determined to taste every bit of your pleasure, you start to forget what you were even mad at him for earlier today. Almost like that was his plan all along.

“It’s o-okay, Michael, it’s—“ You lose yourself to another moan, the way he presses his mouth harder to you, drugged in the way you can’t think straight.

His tongue moving up and down over your clit with relentless purpose is what finally had you fall apart, the rhythm of your climax fluttering through him, drinking in the way your whole body is shaking under his hands.

He drags it out, licking all the way into the aftershocks, until you place a hand in his hair to get him off once you feel fully wrung out. You feel his lips press kisses to the inside of your thighs, painting his reverence onto your body. You manage to look down after a couple of more ragged gasps, seeing him rest his cheek against the softness of your thigh.

“Am I forgiven, sweet girl?”

[whattaburrow]

⟢ 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑰𝑬𝑪𝑬

pairing: jaafar jackson x reader (brother’s best friend) summary: for years, y/n has only known jaafar jackson as the person in the stories. the brother who was always filming. the brother who was always travelling. the brother who always seemed to leave right before she arrived. meanwhile, jaafar has spent years hearing about jermajesty's best friend, the girl who somehow became part of the family without sharing their last name. when they finally meet, neither of them expects a single afternoon to change anything. they're wrong. word count: 4,773 an: had this idea when I was randomly listening to 'best friend’s brother' from victorious lol maybe a part 2?

If someone had told Y/N three years ago that one of her closest friends would end up being a Jackson, she probably would have laughed in their face.

Not because she had anything against the family, on the contrary, she was a fan of them. It just simply would have sounded ridiculous.

The first time she met Jermajesty, he had been sitting in the back row of a university classroom, half asleep and completely uninterested in whatever presentation their professor was giving. She remembered that much clearly. She also remembered arriving late that morning, rushing through the door with an iced coffee in one hand and her laptop tucked awkwardly under her arm, already embarrassed before the day had properly started. The room had been nearly full by then, forcing her to take the only empty seat she could find, which happened to be next to him.

Unfortunately, her entrance only became more humiliating from there.

The strap of her bag caught on the leg of a chair. She stumbled. The coffee tipped forward. Several drops splashed across the desk.

Including directly onto the notebook of the stranger sitting beside her.

For one horrible second, the entire room seemed to freeze.

Y/N remembered staring at the mess in complete horror, mentally preparing herself for an awkward apology and what would undoubtedly be a very uncomfortable semester.

Instead, the guy beside her looked down at the coffee staining his notes, then up at her.

'So,' he said casually, 'is this your way of marking territory?'

The laugh escaped before she could stop it.

That had been the beginning.

Looking back, Y/N couldn't pinpoint exactly when the friendship had become important. There had never been a specific moment. No dramatic event. No life-changing conversation. It happened gradually, settling into her life so naturally that she hardly noticed it happening at all. One day they were simply classmates exchanging notes before exams. A few months later they were spending entire afternoons together between lectures. Then came late-night phone calls, shared meals, study sessions that somehow turned into hours of talking about everything except studying, and eventually the kind of friendship where neither person needed a reason to reach out anymore.

Jermajesty became part of her daily routine before she even realized it.

There were days when they exchanged dozens of messages without thinking about it. Days when he was the first person she called after receiving good news. Days when he sat with her through disappointments she didn't want to talk about with anyone else. Their friendship had always been easy in that way. Comfortable. Neither of them needed to perform around the other.

That was probably why she had been so annoyed when she discovered he had conveniently forgotten to mention one very important detail about himself.

She still remembered the exact moment.

They had been sitting outside the university cafeteria during their second year, sharing fries and complaining about an assignment due later that week. The conversation had been completely normal until another student walked past and casually asked Jermajesty whether he was attending a family event for the Jacksons that weekend.

The Jacksons.

Y/N had blinked.

Then blinked again.

Then slowly turned toward him.

'JacksonS?'

Jermajesty had looked up from his phone. 'Yeah?'

She narrowed her eyes.

'Jackson as in…thee Jackson?'

'Yeah.'

The answer had come far too quickly. Y/N stared at him in disbelief.

'You are a Jackson?'

He shrugged. 'Technically.'

'Technically?'

'What?'

'Since when? You never told me that.'

'Since…forever? You never asked.' He said with a chuckle.

To this day, she hated that response.

Mostly because it was impossible to argue with.

Meeting his family had happened a few months later. Y/N had spent almost a week debating whether she should accept the invitation. She wasn't nervous about meeting people. She was nervous about feeling out of place. Family gatherings had always felt deeply personal to her. The idea of walking into someone else's family celebration made her feel like she would be intruding somehow.

The reality couldn't have been more different.

She had barely stepped through the front door before being welcomed inside.

Nobody treated her like a stranger.

Nobody made her feel as though she didn't belong there.

The atmosphere surprised her. There was laughter everywhere. Conversations happening over one another. Music playing somewhere in the background. Relatives moving from room to room. The house felt alive in a way that immediately put her at ease.

The second visit was easier.

The third felt normal.

By the fourth, someone had already sent her into the kitchen to grab plates.

By the fifth, she was helping clean up after dinner.

Eventually the invitations stopped feeling formal and started feeling expected.

Somewhere along the way, Y/N stopped being Jermajesty's friend who occasionally visited and became a familiar face everyone recognized.

The transition happened so naturally that she never noticed exactly when it occurred. Jermajesty often joked accusing her of stealing his family to which Y/N always reminded him that his family had made the choice willingly.

The only exception to all of this was Jaafar.

Over three years of friendship, dozens of family gatherings, countless visits and somehow she had never met him.

At first, she assumed it was coincidence and after a while, it became a running joke.

Every visit came with a different explanation.

Jaafar was filming.

Jaafar was rehearsing.

Jaafar was travelling.

Jaafar had work.

Jaafar had left twenty minutes ago.

Jaafar would be there next time.

Eventually Y/N started referring to him as a myth. A celebrity version of Bigfoot. Because everybody swore he existed, everybody claimed to have seen him. Yet somehow she always missed him.

Which was why, as she drove toward Jermajesty's birthday party that afternoon, balancing a gift bag on the passenger seat beside her, she had absolutely no reason to think the day would be any different from all the others.

As far as she knew, she was heading to another family gathering.

Another birthday.

Another afternoon surrounded by people she genuinely loved and appreciated.

The Jackson house was already buzzing with activity by the time Y/N pulled into the street.

She shouldn't have been surprised. After years of knowing Jermajesty, she had learned that no Jackson family gathering ever stayed small for very long. A birthday dinner somehow became twenty people. Twenty people somehow became forty. Relatives appeared from nowhere. Family friends arrived with extra food. Children multiplied the moment nobody was paying attention. The entire thing always unfolded with a kind of organized chaos that somehow worked despite looking completely unplanned from the outside.

Even before stepping out of her car, she could hear music floating from the backyard. The bass carried faintly through the afternoon air, blending with distant laughter and conversations she couldn't quite make out. A few cars were already parked along both sides of the street, forcing her to squeeze into a spot farther away than she would have liked. Grabbing the gift bag from the passenger seat, she made her way toward the house, smiling to herself when she noticed the front door standing wide open.

That was another thing she had grown used to.

Nobody knocked anymore.

At least nobody in the family.

People simply walked in.

The first time she had visited years ago, she had stood awkwardly on the porch for nearly five minutes trying to gather enough courage to ring the doorbell. Now she barely made it halfway up the driveway before the door flew open.

'Well, look who decided to finally show up.'

Jermajesty's voice carried across the front steps and Y/N immediately rolled her eyes.

'Hello to you too, birthday boy.'

'What took you so long?'

'What took me so long?' she repeated. 'I've been driving for twenty minutes.'

'You could've driven faster.'

'That's illegal.'

'It's a birthday.'

'That doesn't make it legal.'

Jermajesty grinned before stealing the gift bag directly from her hand and hugging her.

Some friendships changed over the years but theirs never really had. The teasing had remained exactly the same since university.

Before Y/N could continue arguing, a familiar high-pitched voice suddenly echoed from somewhere deeper inside the house.

'Nini!'

A smile spread across her face instantly.

She barely had enough time to turn around before a small figure came running through the hallway at full speed. Abu Bakr appeared a second later, tiny legs moving as quickly as they possibly could as he charged straight toward her. The little boy practically launched himself at her knees, forcing her to crouch down just in time to catch him.

'There you are,' she laughed, wrapping her arms around him.

'Nini came!'

'Yeah, Nini came.'

The nickname had followed her for nearly a year now.

Nobody really remembered when it started. When Abu Bakr had first begun talking, he struggled with pronouncing her name properly. After several attempts that sounded nothing alike, he eventually settled on 'Nini' and stubbornly refused to call her anything else. Every correction failed. Every attempt to teach him her real name ended with him repeating 'Nini' even louder than before. Eventually everyone surrendered.

Now half the family used it too.

Abu Bakr pulled back just enough to examine her face.

'You late.'

Y/N gasped dramatically.

'Excuse you?'

'You little bit late.'

Jermajesty immediately burst out laughing.

'I'm not late.'

'You late.' Abu Bakr nodded with the confidence of someone delivering undeniable facts.

Y/N couldn't even argue anymore.

The kid was too cute.

She stood up and lifted him onto her hip with the ease of someone who had done it dozens of times before. Abu Bakr immediately settled there, making himself comfortable as he absentmindedly reached for one of the bracelets around her wrist. The movement was so familiar that neither of them thought twice about it.

Their friendship had been unexpected from the beginning.

The first few times she visited, Abu Bakr had treated her with deep suspicion. He watched her from across rooms. Refused to answer questions. Occasionally hid behind family members whenever she tried speaking to him. Then one afternoon she accidentally built what was possibly the ugliest Lego tower ever created. The structure had leaned sideways before collapsing entirely. Abu Bakr stared at the disaster for several seconds before announcing, in complete seriousness, that it looked 'ugly.'

After that, they became inseparable.

Now he followed her around whenever she visited.

The moment she entered the house, he claimed her attention for the rest of the day.

The backyard was where most people had gathered. Strings of lights hung overhead despite the sun still shining brightly above them. Several long tables had been arranged across the patio, covered with food that would probably continue growing throughout the afternoon as more relatives arrived carrying dishes. Music played softly from speakers near the house while conversations overlapped from every direction. Some people sat together beneath umbrellas. Others stood around talking. Children darted between adults, occasionally stopping long enough to steal snacks before disappearing again.

The atmosphere felt familiar.

Comfortable.

Warm.

Y/N found herself relaxing almost immediately.

This was exactly why she enjoyed coming here because nobody expected anything from her, nobody cared whether she looked perfect or said the right thing.

She could simply exist.

Over time, the family had stopped treating her like Jermajesty's best friend and started treating her like someone who belonged. The difference was subtle, but she felt it every time she visited. Nobody introduced her anymore. Nobody asked who she was. Family members greeted her the same way they greeted each other.

She wasn't just a guest anymore.

After spending nearly half an hour moving between conversations and greetings, Y/N eventually settled into a chair beside Jermajesty near the back of the yard. Abu Bakr immediately climbed into the seat next to her before changing his mind and crawling directly into her lap instead.

Jermajesty shook his head.

'I don't know why I bother.'

'You sound jealous.'

'I am jealous, my little brother prefers my best friend.'

Abu Bakr didn't even acknowledge him.

Instead, he held up a small toy truck.

'Nini, look.'

'I am looking.'

'My truck.'

'That's a very nice truck.'

'It go fast.' The little boy nodded seriously.

Y/N matched his seriousness.

'That sounds dangerous.'

Abu Bakr seemed pleased by that answer.

The conversation drifted naturally after that. Relatives came and went. Stories were shared. Old memories resurfaced. At one point Jermaine was halfway through telling a story about something that had happened years ago when his attention suddenly shifted toward the entrance of the backyard.

His entire face lit up.

'Ah!'

The interruption caught everyone's attention.

'There he is!'

Several people turned.

Y/N followed their gaze.

A man had just entered through the side gate.

Jaafar. 

At first, she only recognized him from photographs she had seen online over the years, and the ones Jermajesty shared wit her from the family album. The family talked about him often enough that she already felt vaguely familiar with the idea of Jaafar despite never actually meeting him. Three years of near misses had created an oddly strange situation where she knew stories about him before knowing him.

The backyard seemed to brighten with energy as soon as he arrived.

People stood to greet him.

Several relatives immediately pulled him into conversations before he had even taken more than a few steps.

Y/N watched quietly from her chair.

After hearing his name for so long, curiosity was natural.

He moved through the crowd slowly, greeting people one at a time. Hugs. Handshakes. Quick conversations. The ease with which he navigated the gathering immediately told her everything she needed to know. He wasn't arriving as a celebrity. He wasn't arriving as the lead actor from a major film.

He was arriving as a son. A brother. A nephew.

Family.

As he drew closer, Y/N found herself noticing details she couldn't see from a distance. The tiredness lingering around his eyes. The relaxed way he carried himself. The curls. The easy confidence.

And then he smiled.

That was the first thing that truly stood out to her.

Not his appearance.

Not the fact that she already knew who he was.

The smile.

It transformed his entire face. The kind of smile that reached his eyes before it reached his mouth. The kind of smile that made other people smile back without realizing it.

For a brief moment, Y/N understood why everyone seemed so immediately drawn to him.

Beside her, Jermajesty stood from his chair.

'Finally.'

Jaafar laughed at whatever his brother said in response.

A few moments later, he reached their section of the backyard. Only then did Jermajesty seem to remember that the two of them had somehow never crossed paths before.

'Oh, right.' A grin immediately spread across his face. 'You guys haven't met.'

Y/N stood as well.

For the first time, Jaafar's attention shifted fully toward her.

'This is Y/N,' Jermajesty said. 'My best friend.'

The title wasn't new. He had introduced her that way for years yet hearing it always made her smile. Jermajesty then looked at her.

'And this is my brother, Jaafar.'

Finally.

After three years of hearing stories.

After three years of somehow missing each other.

The introduction happened in the simplest way possible. Jaafar extended his hand first.

'Nice to meet you.'

His voice was soft, calm and friendly, just like the rest of the Jacksons. Y/N accepted the handshake.

'Nice to meet you too.'

The exchange lasted only a few seconds.

Just a handshake. A greeting. Two strangers finally putting faces to names they had both heard countless times before.

Yet as they pulled apart, Y/N found herself thinking that meeting Jaafar felt strangely similar to finally meeting someone she'd heard about for years. Not unfamiliar exactly. Just new. Like opening the last chapter of a story everyone else had already been reading.

And judging by the amused look Jermajesty was trying very hard to hide, he was far more entertained by the introduction than either of them were.

The introduction should have been the end of it or at least that was what Y/N expected.

People were constantly arriving and leaving at Jackson family gatherings, conversations splitting and merging every few minutes as relatives moved around the backyard. Jaafar had only just arrived himself. There were still family members greeting him from across the yard, cousins trying to pull him into conversations, and several people who clearly hadn't had the chance to say hello yet. Y/N assumed he would disappear into the crowd almost immediately. It would have been the normal thing to do.

Instead, after speaking with a few relatives and exchanging greetings with people nearby, he eventually found his way back toward the table where she and Jermajesty were sitting.

The realization caught her slightly off guard.

Over the years, Y/N had become fairly good at reading social situations. She knew when conversations were driven by politeness and when they were driven by genuine interest. Family gatherings were full of both. There were always those brief interactions where people exchanged a few pleasant words before moving on to the next person. Nobody thought twice about it.

This didn't feel like that.

Not yet, anyway.

Jaafar settled into one of the empty chairs nearby while another conversation unfolded around them, and somehow the two of them ended up speaking again. The transition happened so naturally that neither seemed particularly aware of it. One topic became another. One story led into a second. Every answer somehow opened the door to another question.

The strangest part was how easy it felt.

For years, Y/N had heard stories about Jaafar without ever meeting him. Not intentionally. It was simply impossible to be friends with Jermajesty and not hear his brother's name occasionally appear in conversation. There were updates about filming schedules, travel plans, funny family stories, birthdays he couldn't attend, holidays he arrived late for. Over time, she had developed a vague picture of who he was without ever realizing it. Now, sitting across from him for the first time, she found herself quietly comparing the real person to the version she had built from years of secondhand information.

The real version was far more relaxed than she expected, funnier too, that became obvious fairly quickly.

'You know,' she said eventually, leaning back in her chair as a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, 'I think I'm mostly just relieved.'

Jaafar looked up from the drink in his hand. 'Relieved?'

'Yeah.'

'Why?'

Y/N laughed softly. 'That you're real.'

His smile appeared again. 'I had a feeling this was coming.'

'Oh come on, you can't blame me.' She gestured toward him dramatically. 'For three years I've been hearing the same thing every time I come over.'

Jaafar already looked amused as she continued.

'Jaafar's filming.'

A finger lifted.

'Jaafar's rehearsing.'

Another.

'Jaafar's travelling.'

Another.

'Jaafar just left.'

Y/N pointed at him. 'At some point I genuinely started wondering if everyone was lying.'

'They weren't.'

'See? That’s exactly what a myth would say.'

The laugh that escaped him this time was louder and for reasons she couldn't explain, Y/N found herself smiling back automatically.

Across the backyard, Jermajesty immediately noticed. He had actually tried to leave them alone for a while. Tried being the important word. The effort lasted less than twenty minutes.

Now he sat several tables away beside Randy Jr., pretending to pay attention to a completely unrelated conversation while very obviously keeping track of whatever was happening between his best friend and his brother.

'You need help.' Randy didn't even bother hiding his amusement.

Jermajesty looked offended.

'Why?'

'You've been staring for ten minutes.'

'I haven't.'

'You absolutely have.'

'I was looking around.'

'At them.'

'At the backyard.'

'Which part?'

Jermajesty hesitated. 'The...grass.'

Randy laughed so hard he nearly spilled his drink.

The truth was that Jermajesty couldn't help finding the situation entertaining. For years, Y/N and Jaafar had existed in the same orbit without ever crossing paths. It had become something of a running joke within the family. Every time Y/N visited, Jaafar happened to be elsewhere. Every time Jaafar stopped by, Y/N had already left. The timing became so ridiculous that even family members started commenting on it.

Yet now that they had finally met, both of them seemed surprisingly comfortable, as if they had skipped past the awkward stranger stage entirely.

Meanwhile, Jaafar found himself making a similar observation.

The longer the conversation continued, the more he understood why Y/N's name came up so often.

The realization became impossible to ignore once he started paying attention. She knew everybody. Not just their names. The actual relationships. The stories. The inside jokes. Family members greeted her without hesitation. Conversations picked up where they had apparently left off weeks earlier. Nobody treated her like a visitor.

At one point an aunt walked past and handed Y/N a plate to carry inside without even asking. Y/N accepted it automatically. Neither seemed to think anything of it.

That small moment somehow told Jaafar more than any explanation could. She belonged here.

The thought lingered in the back of his mind longer than expected.

Hours passed faster than either of them realized.

The sun slowly disappeared beyond the rooftops, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold before darkness settled over the neighborhood. The string lights hanging above the backyard gradually became the primary source of light, casting a warm glow across conversations that showed no signs of ending anytime soon. Music continued playing softly somewhere behind them. More food appeared. Someone started telling old family stories. Laughter erupted every few minutes from different parts of the yard.

It wasn't until Y/N glanced at her phone that she realized how late it had become.

The expression on her face immediately changed. 'Oh, wow.'

'What?'

She turned the screen toward herself again.

'I didn't realize it was this late.'

The statement seemed simple enough yet for a second, Jaafar felt oddly disappointed and the realization surprised him.

Eventually, the familiar ritual of goodbyes began.

It took significantly longer than it should have.

Jackson family gatherings made leaving almost impossible. Every goodbye turned into another conversation. Every conversation led to another hug. Every hug somehow delayed departure by another ten minutes.

By the time Y/N finally made it to the front of the house, she felt like she had already said goodbye at least six separate times.

She was searching through her purse for her car keys when footsteps approached beside her.

Looking up, she found Jaafar standing there.

'I'll walk you out.'

The offer felt natural. The sort of thing anyone in the family might have done. Even so, Y/N smiled.

Together they made their way down the driveway while the sounds of the party faded behind them. The evening air had cooled considerably since sunset, carrying the distant hum of traffic and occasional bursts of laughter from the backyard.

'I had fun talking to you today.'

The honesty of the statement caught Y/N slightly off guard.

She glanced toward him.

A smile appeared almost immediately.

'I had fun too.'

A brief pause followed.

Then she laughed.

'Although I still think you might be a myth.'

Jaafar groaned. 'You're never letting that go, are you?'

'Absolutely not.'

'Good to know.'

They reached her car.

For a second neither moved.

Then Y/N unlocked the driver's door.

'Well.'

'Well.' She smiled. 'It was nice finally meeting you.'

Jaafar returned the smile effortlessly.

'Likewise.'

'Hopefully it won’t take another three years to meet again.' She said chucking. 

'Oh, I will make sure it won’t happen.' He looked down at her while smiling. 

A few moments later she was pulling away from the curb, taillights disappearing into the darkness beyond the street.

Jaafar stood there a little longer than necessary before turning back toward the house. Jermajesty spotted him almost immediately. The grin on his face was a warning sign and Jaafar knew it.

'So.'

There it was.

Jaafar sighed. 'So.'

Jermajesty's smile widened and Jaafar already regretted sitting down.

Yet despite himself, despite knowing exactly what reaction he was about to receive, he found his thoughts drifting back toward Y/N anyway. Toward the stories she had told. The way she laughed. The fact that somehow she had become part of his family's life years before he ever met her.

'She is…very nice.'

'Right? Told ya.' 

'...Tell me more about her.' 

Jermajesty looked like Christmas had arrived early and practically sat up straighter in his chair. 

And somewhere deep down, Jaafar realized he had just made a very serious mistake. Because judging by the look on his brother's face, he wasn't going to hear the end of this anytime soon.

The drive home gave him too much time to think.

The roads were quieter now, most of the traffic having disappeared hours earlier. Music played softly through the speakers, but his attention barely registered it. Instead, pieces of the afternoon kept replaying in his head. Small moments. Random comments. Fragments of conversations that should have been forgettable but somehow weren't.

It was strange.

He had met her only a few hours ago.

Yet somehow she no longer felt like a stranger.

Meanwhile, several miles away, Y/N was experiencing a similar problem.

She had changed into an oversized T-shirt nearly twenty minutes ago. Her makeup was gone. Her hair was tied into a messy bun balanced somewhere on top of her head. She was curled up beneath her blankets, scrolling aimlessly through social media while half-watching a show she wasn't really paying attention to.

The day should have been over.

Instead, her phone suddenly vibrated beside her.

The screen lit up.

Jermajesty 🥳

you make it home?

She typed back:

Y/N

yes mother

The reply came almost instantly.

Jermajesty 🥳

good good

so

what did you think of jaafar?

Y/N immediately groaned and dropped her head back against the pillow.

Of course.

Of course this was where the conversation was going.

She should have seen it coming.

The introduction had happened hours ago, yet apparently that was enough to send Jermajesty into full matchmaking mode.n Not that she thought he was actually trying to set them up.

After staring at the screen for a moment, she finally replied.

Y/N

he seems nice

The answer lasted on the screen for approximately two seconds before another message arrived.

Jermajesty 🥳

damn, that’s it?

Y/N laughed despite herself.

Y/N

what do you want me to say?

Jermajesty 🥳

idk

you guys talked for like three hours

Y/N

we did not talk for three hours

Jermajesty 🥳

2 hours and 47 minutes

Y/N stared at the screen.

Then:

Y/N

why do you know that

Jermajesty 🥳

don't worry about it

Y/N

i hate you

Jermajesty 🥳

❤️

She immediately threw her phone onto the mattress beside her.

This idiot.

A smile still appeared anyway.

After a few minutes, she reached over, locked the screen, and set the phone on her nightstand. The room was quiet now. The only sound came from the television still playing softly in the background.

Slowly, her thoughts drifted back toward the afternoon.

Toward conversations beneath string lights.

Toward easy laughter.

Toward dark eyes and an annoyingly nice smile.

The realization made her groan into her pillow and this was exactly why she didn't want to entertain Jermajesty's questions. The last thing she needed was encouragement.

A few moments later, her phone lit up again.

One final message.

Y/N almost ignored it.

With a sigh, she reached for the device.

The notification preview showed only three words.

Jermajesty 🥳

he's asking questions

Y/N blinked.

Then sat upright.

Y/N

what does that mean

No answer.

She waited.

Nothing.

Another minute passed.

Still nothing.

Y/N

jermajesty jackson

Silence.

Y/N

JER!!!!

Nothing.

The message remained on delivered and somehow that was worse because now her curiosity had been planted. Now she wanted to know.

And somewhere across the city, completely unaware of the chaos he had just caused, Jermajesty was laughing his head off.

[prettyangeliczz]

he’s so handsome. i can’t wait for that jaapan photo dump he’s hopefully gonna post.

[mjsweets]

➴ ˚ ༘ katie’s masterlist

wlc to my masterlist angels ┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

𑣲 MICHAEL JACKSON ᝰ.ᐟ

-SUGAR TALKIN (nsfw)

𑣲 JAAFAR JACKSON ᝰ.ᐟ

-TIRES AND TEARS (sfw)

[glossiercheek]

fuck bunny

synopsis: it’s halloween. manipulative bsf!michael is being weird. however, you, in your drunken stupor, don’t appreciate that.

warnings: 18+ (mdni), he calls you bunny, fingering, reverse cowgirl. don't like, don't read!

a/n: anon asked me how manipulative bsf!michael would describe his relationship with bsf!reader to his friends, and what would happen if reader made the first step.

the entire night you’ve spent listening to michael engaging in small talk with his friends, dapping them up, giving them a nod of his head with that cheeky smile while chewing his gum as you stared at him, waiting for him to finish his chat. waiting for him to introduce you to the people he called his bros.

michael looked good in his vampire costume. fake blood trickling down his lower-lip, his little white button-up shirt pulled taut across his chest, and the black cape that covered his back entirely.

“this your girl?” one of his friends asked him, pointing at you. the sweet, quiet girl behind him, following his every move. your heart stopped beating for a minute, curious what michael was going to tell his friends. you secretly hoped he would claim you as his with a proud glint in his eyes, in front of all of his friends.

“she’s mine. that’s all you need to know.” he’d say in your fantasies.

but tonight, you were met with the harsh veracity in which fantasies aren’t like reality, but more like nightmares in the darkest form. “yeah, she’s my girl,” michael told his friends, free hand petting the white bun on your lower back, where no one could see how he touched you, masking his secret desire.

your heart sped up. at his words, his touch. “—but just a friend. just best friends, right?” michael looked down at you, a simple, tight-lipped smile gracing his lips. You tried to hide the morose, sullen look on your face. No layer of make up could hide the embarrassment you felt on the inside, because here you were, thinking that your friendship with michael could maybe evolve into something more. more passionate. more loving. “known her since we were just kids.”

“can you imagine—” another friend snickered. he was more the frat-boy type: freckles scattered across his nose, voice slurry and eyes sunken and alcohol stains on his jumper. Being around his group of friends, it made you feel small. Irrelevant. A stark contrast to how michael made you feel when you two were alone.

“you’re right, lucas,” michael laughed along with him, “what kind of freak would i be to be in love with my best friend?”

after listening to michael, apparently merely your best friend now, prattling on about unimportant affairs like the latest sports game and the newest movies out, brushing you completely off, you decided to have a little fun by yourself.

michael fucking put you in this costume. it was his idea for you to go dressed up as a bunny. and in a flurry of doubt and the immense pressure to please michael’s wishes, you put the outfit on. you’re so naïve, you think to yourself. so gullibe in how your mind gets all mashed up when michael gets too close to you. now you’re attached.

you stepped into the packed kitchen, bodies everywhere, looking at how large amounts of amber-coloured liquor got poured into red solo cups. you looked at the vibrant colours of the mixers, the lime wedges left on the marble kitchen counters. you didn’t even look up when someone pushed a cup in your hand, filled to the brim with you-don’t-know-what, but you downed it either way.

michael would disapprove of you behaving so recklessly, repeatedly telling you that you’re only allowed to drink when he’s around to keep an eye on you.

well, you’re going to make sure he keeps his eye on you.

you didn’t know your body could move like this. in a tight black corset around your torso hugging your boobs up, and the shortest, softest black shorts, barely keeping your ass from hanging out, a funky disco song playing in the background while you move your hips and waist around.

the bunny ears on your head are crooked now, folded in half and slanted on your head. and of course, you feel the heat of michael’s stare burn in your back. of course. michael can’t take his eyes off his pretty best friend, dressed up in the skimpiest clothing. your eyes meet his through the crowd of people around you, and by the dark look in michael’s eyes, you know: he’s seen you.

the vision in front of your eyes starts swaying. it all consists of dizzying lights and sweaty bodies. the dance floor under you heating up your heel-clad feet, your legs all wobbly from the alcohol coursing through your veins as you continue to rotate your hips around, slow and controlled. your hair sticks to the back of your neck.

it is then and there, michael realises: you’re not a good girl anymore. not the innocent, silly girl he met when he was young. who followed his every order. who did whatever he wanted to do. you can do what you want, you’re able to go against his wishes, you can defy him. challenge him. 

it turns him on. seeing you all confident, but so cute and clearly affected by his words from an hour ago. it gives him the mental reassurance that you care as much as he does. you watch how michael’s large hand sneaks into his pocket, fingers fiddling with a frayed edge of his cape. the blood stain is smeared across his cheek from the amount of drinks he’s consumed, too. it makes him look strangely dangerous.

the two of you keep playing eye-tag. you can’t really tell if michael is cross with you, or if he’s just full of lust.  

you purse your lips together, gauging michael’s facial expressions. the fluffy bun on your backside brushes against the thigh of another partygoer as you try to steady yourself in the crowd.

your feet start to hurt in your black heels, and you know michael is a sucker for seeing you helpless. needing to be taken care of. he knows he can’t leave you on your own like this. and that’s exactly how you’re going to get him in your trap.

the steps you take to the edge of the dance floor are unstable and wavery. “mikey,” you slur, holding your arms out, drawing out your words to appear even more drunk than you really are. “my feet hurt. help me?” you ask sweetly. the look in his eyes is gooey, and you know you have him wrapped around your little finger. “oh, baby.”

like an obedient cat, michael grips your thighs, readjusts the bunny ears that are about to slip off your head, to carry you upstairs, to an abandoned room. his mouth is still curved up and his cheeks are still red from the warmth as he plops himself on an empty bed. you don’t know where you are, but all you know is that now is the time to attack.

it’s like you two speak a special, secret language, because you straddle his lap in one go. “’m sorry, pretty,” michael immediately apologises, nosing your cleavage that is propped in his face. “sorry i had’ta lie.”

the anger within you dissipates. it’s so pathetic, how you can’t hold him accountable for hurting you the second he touches you. all your common sense flies out the window. “’s okay, mikey,” you whimper, pushing your chest up when michael starts pressing shy kisses on the skin. “’m jus’ drunk.”

“i know,” michael speaks into your cleavage, voice light. “but y’know what the rules are.”

“’m so sorry, mikey. i— i was so upset,” you explain, frustrated with yourself. “i was so dumb. it won’t happen again. wanna make you happy.”

michael hums in approval. “then turn around.”

and you do. the weight of knowing what you’re doing, on a stranger’s bed, overpowers you. but desire clouds your healthy judgement. “’s alright, bunny,” michael coos as he rips open the romper of your body suit, his fingers immediately finding your tight, wet entrance. “we all make mistakes sometimes.”

all you can do feel the tantalising sensation of michael’s calloused fingers between your folds as your best friend spreads your slick all over your pussy. it’s teasing and it’s making you all floaty and lightheaded. transparent essence pools out of you, onto michael’s black trousers.

it continues like that. michael plunging his fingers into your soppy hole, all squelching and spongey. you fuck yourself on his fingers, your knees working overhours. “that’s a good bunny,” michael praises, gripping your chin from behind as his eyes remain fixed on your moving bum, the fluffy dot on your ass. “fucking herself on my fingers.”

“yeah— yeah, yes, mike,” you reply, voice all slurry, “gonna bounce on it f’you— yes,”

eventually you come with a strangled groan, not even finished riding out the last waves of your orgasm when you already start begging for michael’s cock. your mind is all fuzzy and blurry, the only thing clear before your eyes is the want to be good for your best friend, the man you so love and cherish, behind you.

your nose twitches lightly when you feel the tip of michael’s dick breach you open. “gonna give it t’you, baby,” he reassures, hand rubbing down your arm as you brace yourself for his member sliding in you. “attagirl. nobody does it like my pretty best friend.”

the desperation in your movements is evident. the harsh edges of the corset dig painfully in your skin with every jerk of your hips. “that’s it, hop on my cock, bun,” michael praises, straightening the bunny ears again that were teetering on falling from your head from your frantic movements. his hand stays on the white plum on your ass, wobbling it around to signal you to start moving. 

he fills you so deliciously, every roll of your hips pushes his cock further in you, your drool making him more slick and easier to take in. you’re still accommodating to his size, your hole leaking around his ragged length. until michael delivers one stinging slap to your ass, letting a lone, pathetic squeal escape your lips. 

“’s that all y’got, huh? show me how real good bunnies hop on that dick.”

a/n: don’t even ask me abt their dynamics rn, i don’t know myself 😭

i also wanna say. thoughts and thirsts for michael AND JAAFAR (!!!!) are so welcome. just flood my inbox with every thought of jaafar. i imagine him as such a sweetheart who wants to take care of u. okay maybe my daddy issues are acting up again LOL

[mjsweets]

SUGAR TALKIN’—🪽་༘ ˚!mature michael x !bratty reader… michael finds out you’ve been spending your time shopping for luxury items to grab his attention while he’s busy creating his new album, invincible. He doesn’t care about the money, of course not, but he wants to use it to his advantage to punish you.

-★ spanking, PIV intercourse, humping, !dom michael, sorta degrading?, dacryphilia if u squint??, denying orgasms, but lots of praise :p, sweet michael aftercare.

(not proofread so i apologize for mistakes <3) and i wrote this while listening to break of dawn and lady in my life so take that as you will 🦢

wc: 1k+

Your polished nails point against the glistening glass of your favorite jewelry shop.

“that one please, it’s beautiful.” You speak politely to the woman behind the counter with a sweet smile.

Your slender fingers point at a beautiful necklace crafted from polished gold that catches the light with every movement. The chain is elegant, leading to a sparkling pendant adorned with shimmering diamonds.

“Alright Mrs. Jackson i’ll prepare that for you, the total would be 23,400 dollars today.” She replies with a smile as she pulls the necklace out from its storage.

“Completely fine doll, thank you so much.” You reply as you swiftly remove Michael’s card from your handbag and place it on the delicate glass.

You’ve recently been spending Michael’s money more and more, a desperate endeavor to gain his attention. He constantly has been spending day and night in his studio or his office to craft the perfect lyrics or create a unforgettable beat for his new album “invincible.” You decided to attempt to grab his attention by buying a new lingerie set and necklaces to try on, and do a little fashion show for him when he arrived home later.

The worker places her hand on the card and picks it up to swipe it as she hands the dainty white bag to you.

“Thank you again ma’am.” you say softly as you turn on your heel and place your sunglasses back on to head to the next store.

You arrive at victoria’s secret, searching the isles and racks for a perfect outfit for Micheal’s personal likings.

“Need any help miss?” a woman’s voice echoes behind you as you search for a slip dress.

“Actually, yes i’m searching for something elegant with lacy textures and something silk?” You reply removing your sunglasses and placing them on your head.

“I have a perfect collection , come with me!” She replies enthusiastically.

She points towards a rack with a pastel blue themed set. The fabric shimmered like fresh snow under moonlight, with delicate white threads that caught your eye. Fine lace traced the edges in floral patterns, giving it an elegant, vintage feel rather than anything overly flashy. Tiny pearl-like accents decorated the straps, while a small laced bow rested at the center, adding sweetness. The material looked soft and weightless.

“It’s perfect! thank you so much.” You say beaming. This is exactly what Michael would adore.

“Of course, do you want the matching undergarments?” The saleswoman questions.

“Yes please.” You reply with a soft smile.

***

By the time you’ve checked out it’s nearing 8:30pm, which gave you more than enough time till Michael arrived home from the studio.

The door creaks open as you drop your shopping bags off of your aching arms momentarily, leaving red rings around your wrists from the strings.

Kicking your heels off and heading up the grand staircase as you pick your bags up again to get ready for Michael.

You head to your shower to freshen up after a day of shopping exhausting you.

***

As the steam leaves the bathroom you head to your vanity to collect the lingerie you bought earlier. You slip it onto your frame along with the lacy bra and silky panties.

You sit on the plush velvet seat of your vanity and turn on your blow dryer to create voluminous curls in your hair with a round brush, bumping the ends and making small curls at the tips.

You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment making sure your hair is perfect before standing up to slip on the silk panties and the lacy bra, along with the skimpy slip dress before turning to your full body mirror to analyze your body. The way your curves were slightly outlined by the dress and the lace bra slightly peaked out above the low cut top of the dress made you feel beautiful.

You finish up your makeup, doing simple blush and lipgloss to doll yourself up a bit more before laying down on you and Michael’s bed to read a bit of your new book as you wait for him to arrive home.

***

10:15pm

Your slowly drifting off to sleep but remember what your waiting for, you sit up slowly to grab a cup of coffee to stay awake.

Before you can get up you hear the front door creak open and you lay back down in bed and await your husband.

You hear his loud footsteps up the stairs along with the sound of his shoes being knocked off carelessly as he nears your room.

He opens the door to the sight of you laying in bed looking gorgeous reading your book nonchalantly. You can’t help but smile as you try to ignore him.

“Baby, hi what are you doing awake?” He questions you as he sets down his keys on the dresser.

“Hi love, just reading this new book.” You reply without looking at him.

“You look beautiful angel, did you do this for me?” He asks as you feel his weight dip the mattress slightly.

“Maybe.” You reply still not meeting his eyes.

“Baby, look at me.” He says sternly.

You finally look up at him to see his doe eyes staring back at you. You feel your heart flutter in your chest.

“So, i’ve been getting quite the large charges on my card recently hm. Whatcha’ buying sweet girl, can I see.” He asks smiling at you.

“Nothing, just stuff for myself.” You reply with a smirk.

“Mmh I see, You know it’s a lot of money angel, you never spend that much, I know you, so what’s the reason?” He questions.

“Just wanted to spoil myself that’s all.”

“Is that so? I know when you lie darling, tell me why.” He says lifting your chin with his finger.

“I.. I just wanted your attention Michael.” You reply folding under his touch.

“Mm atta’ girl, You need my attention so bad huh.” He says shifting closer to you.

“Yes, I do. More than anything.” You reply sweetly.

“Tch Tch Tch, don’t know if u deserve it after the hefty amount you spent girl, maybe a little punishment?” He says with a sly grin on his face.

“Anything for your attention please, Michael.” You say with your best puppy dog eyes.

“lay on my lap, stomach down and ass up.” Michael replies

You shift your position immediately abiding to him, laying on your stomach as your slip dress rises up a bit exposing your plush thighs and the bottom of your ass.

Micheal hisses at the sight feeling his arousal grow.

“You know our safe word right baby?”

You nod in response.

Micheal lifts his large hand from his thigh to come in contact with your asscheek.

You whine at the stinging feeling and the way it makes the wet spot in your new panties grow.

“How many do you think you deserve love?” Michael purrs.

“I..I don’t know.” You breathe out still recovering from the earlier contact.

“Mm alright i’ll decide.” He says with a trace of darkness coating his words.

Another smack lands on your ass as you whimper under him, Michael adds another smack to your opposite cheek.

You react with a louder whimper.

“Sounding so pretty f’me.” He groans.

Another slap is planted on your cheek, starting to stain red from how his large calloused hands slap against the soft skin.

“You think you can take more baby?” Michael questions

You nod in return knowing how much pleasure it brings him to do this.

“Alright.” He says

Another slap echos against your plush skin and his palm.

Another

Another

Another.

Michael doesn’t stop till your a whining mess squirming below his touch.

“Alright baby that’s enough, sit up on the bed for me okay?” he coos as you obey him.

“Spread.” He says gesturing to your trembling legs.

You comply with him and reveal your silk panties completely soaked through from the previous activity.

“Naughty girl, getting off on a punishment.” He says with a smile.

“Can’t leave you with all this pent up huh?” He says leaning down to your heat.

“Take em’ off.” He commands.

You slide the material down your legs as you keep your legs open for him to see.

“Touch yourself for me.” He demands.

“T..Touch myself?” You question.

“Mhm.” He replies

You snake your hand down to your soaking folds and start to tease your aching cunt.

Small whines and moans fall from your lips as you toy with your sensitive clit.

“That’s it baby.” he praises.

“N..Not as good as your f-fingers Michael.” You spew out between whines.

“Mmm baby you want my fingers?” He asks softly.

You nod your head violently as you continue to play with your folds and slowly insert a finger into your soaking hole.

“Too bad you spent that money baby, now you’ve gotta wait for me.” He says watching your eyebrows knit together.

“Baby.. I-I’m sorry please touch me I won’t spend a-anymore please just-“ You spit out lost in your pleasure.

Michael lets out a soft chuckle.

“Aw baby? You can’t hold off without my fingers, how pathetic.” He teases you as he palms himself through his slacks.

“Please Michael.” You beg.

“Please what.” He questions.

“Please touch me I-I’ll do anything.” You moan out.

“Alright baby, get on the ground then.” He replies.

“W..what?” you question as you stop rocking your fingers against your cunt.

“You heard me, get on the floor.” He commands.

You sink to the floor off of the bed and sit on your knees looking up at Michael.

“Hump my foot, you want my touch so bad go ahead baby.” He says gesturing to his loafer.

You desperately latch onto his shoe completely soaking it in your arousal as you start to shift your body against the cold material of his shoe.

“Such a desperate girl.” He coos into your ear as he tears the top of your dress down to view how your perky tits bounce as you ride his shoe completely dazed from the pleasure.

He leans down to toy with your flush nipples and roll one between his slender fingers and massage the other one with his left hand.

the mix of your wet noises against his leather shoe and the whines and moans spilling from your lips are enough to make Michael cum right there.

He senses your closeness as you speed up your movements and create a sloppy rythm.

“So pitiful to watch you do this to yourself baby.” He says softly with sarcasm laced in between his words.

You speed up your pace feeling that pit of warmth collect in your abdomen, suddenly Michael pulls his soaked foot away from you as your thrusts falter.

“W..what? Mikey please.” You whine at the loss of contact.

“I’m sorry baby I just can’t stand to see you pleasing yourself without my help.” He says with a chuckle.

“c’mere and I’ll help you.” He mutters as he holds his hand out to lead you back to the bed.

“Atta’ girl.”

You sit against the bed still recovering from your orgasm being taken from you.

“Lemme take care of you now okay baby?” Micheal says looking up at you as he snakes his way to the inside of your thighs.

His mouth lands on the plush of your left thigh as he sucks and leaves a bruise on the soft skin.

You squirm and whine under his touch as he detaches from your thigh to go to the other one leaving a string of spit from the small bruise he created.

“So pretty.” He breathes out as he dives back into your thigh to print more bruises on your skin.

Soon your a whimpering mess begging for him to touch the achy spot between your legs.

He stops his previous movements and licks his lips quickly before latching onto your clit suddenly.

“Fuck Michael.” You whine out as his skilled tongue hits all the right spots of your cunt.

His movements are delicious against your puffy folds as he slips his fingers between them.

As he slides a finger into your heat you latch your hands into his hair.

“Mm fuck tug it.” Michael groans against your pussy.

You give it a tug and Michaels dick twitches against his slacks. Your hands reach for the hem of his shirt prodding at it in an attempt to take it off.

Michael takes one of his hands that aren’t occupied with your slick, and slides his shirt off, revealing his sweaty upper half.

Michael pushes another finger inside of your leaking hole and pumps them at a steady pace, creating a ring of your arousal at the base of his 2 fingers.

“M..Michael i’m close please don’t stop.” You beg as your stomach feels heavy from the pleasure.

“Give it to me, come undone baby.” Michael whispers against your clit, still working it with his tongue.

“Please, I need you inside me.” You choke out.

“Yeah? Okay darling.” He coos as he slides his fingers out of you and his hand travels to his waistband to free his aching cock.

Pushing you against the headboard and spreading your legs even wider to enter you.

He slaps his dick against your worn out clit and teases it between your folds to gather some of your left over arousal and use it as lube.

Michael grabs his dick and lines it up with your needy entrance.

His tip slides in as he slowly enters you inch by inch letting himself bottom out.

“Fuck, so big Michael.” You moan out as the stretch stings around you, but fades into immense pleasure.

Michael starts to thrust into your hole and create lewd sounds of your ass meeting with his hips with every drawn out stroke.

“So fuckin’ good.” he growls as he picks up his pace and his strength of each thrust.

You feel your climax inching closer as Michael hits that sweet spongy spot at the back of your pussy, clouding your mind with pleasure and bringing tears to prick at the edges of your eyes.

“My pretty girl about to cry? So cute.” He says softly as he wipes a small tear from the edge of your eye with his thumb.

He then moves it down to your clit to circle it as he feels you clench around his length.

“So close baby.” You whimper out as his thumb comes into contact with your sensitive pearl.

“Yeah? gonna cum for me?” He asks.

As he thrusts a few more times he hits the spot that makes you come undone immediately. Your body jerks as you feel yourself cum around his dick. Your legs giving out and drooping slightly as Michael continues to ram into you riding out your high.

As the after effects of your climax wash over you so does the overstimulation of Michael’s dick still pounding inside of you.

You feel his cock twitch a few times before he spills his load inside of your pulsing cunt.

Your heavy breathing and sweaty figures blend together as Michael leans against your chest slowly pulling himself out of you and watching his seed leak out of you along with your own fluids.

“I taught ya’ a lesson huh?” He says with a soft laugh.

“Mm” You hum in reply as your eyes slowly droop closed.

“Baby we need to clean up first don’t fall asleep on me yet.” He says giggling.

“Okay im not.” You say opening your glossy eyes.

He gets up and carries you bridal style to the large bathroom and starts to run the bath as he massages slow circles onto your thigh.

He places you and himself into the bath and soaks in the warm water, the whole world melting around you as you rest against his chest.

He shampoos your hair and scrubs it gently as he washes it out, doing the same with your conditioner.

He picks you up and wraps you and himself in a warm towel as he rubs your favorite lotion on your legs and arms soothing your achy muscles.

“So pretty when your sleepy baby.” He praises as you nuzzle your head in his chest feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Mmmm stoppp.” You say muffled by his soft skin.

“what do u say should we head to bed now pretty girl?” He whispers planting a kiss on your forehead.

You nod your head against him and he picks you up again.

He lays you in bed and joins next to you as he lays your head against his chest and intertwines your legs together, skin to skin as you’re only in your panties and he’s only in his boxers.

You fall asleep feeling closer than ever.

@@katies notes™ .✦ ݁˖ 𝜗𝜚

[prettyangeliczz]

he’s such an attractive man, it’s so sick.

[yourleogf]

closet confessions ❥ michael jackson

PAIRING: late 70s!michael jackson x black!fem!reader

SUMMARY: inspired by this edit + this edit as well + in which you and Michael like each other, but are too shy to tell each other how you feel, so Michael’s brothers lock you and him in a closet and won’t let you leave until you properly clear the air. 🩷

AUTHOR’S NOTE: reading fics about Michael gave me motivation to write again & i’m so joyful to be back doing what i love 🤭

TAGLIST (click here to be added!): @pinkkycherrish @hismainchic @laniiimariee3 @junkie05 @buckybarnessweetheart @h3avenlyglory @soimightlikeoldmen69 @fifi-asco 🩷

“Marlon!— no!— stop it!—” you squealed as you and Michael pushed against the closet door with all the strength both of you hand, trying to stop Marlon, Jermaine, and Tito from successfully closing the door on the two of you.

“uh-uh, y’all got business to handle! gon’ and get all that mushy out of y’all’s systems so everything can go back to normal!” Marlon remarked through boyish laughter as the three brothers suddenly shoved their body weight against the door in unison and the force sent you and Michael back from the door and tumbling to the ground, a yelp coming from you and a grunt coming from him while the two of you fell wrapped in each other’s limbs.

Michael’s brothers were known to toy with you and him, especially since it was obvious — to them, at least — that you and Michael had not-so secret feelings for each other, but three of them going as far as to shove you and him in a closet together was extremely embarrassing for both of you.

to be more specific, it was Marlon who dragged you to the closet and Jermaine who followed him with Michael in his arms, but it was Tito who held the closet door open for them to put both of you in there.

you and Michael had been friends since you were teenagers and spent much of your adolescence together, even going as far as sneaking out to see each other and hang out at odd times of the night. as time progressed, your bond grew stronger and the two of you were practically two peas in a pod, but somewhere along the way, things started to shift between the two of you.

it wasn’t very obvious, but it could be subtly felt. touches started lingering a bit more and eye contact felt different, almost as if layered with something deeper than platonic affection. the thin line between close friends and lovers was becoming blurred and neither of you realized it.

Jackie noticed it first, then Jermaine, and that’s when the rest of the Jackson brothers started piecing things together as well.

everyone knew Michael was shy at times, but you were no better than him. both of you were equally shy in your own ways, but especially when it came down to romantic feelings, relationships, or connections — truthfully, anything under the ‘romance’ umbrella made both of you very timid and quieter than usual.

so obviously, the Jackson brothers knew that you and Michael would never confess how you really felt about each other, so they decided to do what they do best: meddle.

“you okay?” the sound of Michael’s soft voice pulled you from your thoughts and you blinked as you looked up at him, realizing the fall had planted him right on top of you.

“yeah… y-yeah, i’m fine,” you answered softly as you searched his face for a moment and swallowed thickly, the confined space suddenly feeling smaller than before, “you?”

“i’m okay.” Michael reassured, a small shy smile creeping onto his face, as you instinctively smiled back and the two of you stood from the ground with each other’s help, both of you adjusting your clothing before you moved towards the door.

wrapping your fingers around the doorknob, you twisted it once, then twice, and your face dropped once you realized it was locked.

“hey!” you shouted with a huff as you let go of the doorknob and slapped the door with the palm of your hand instead, “y’all better open this doggone door!”

“not until y’all admit that y’all like each other!” Jermaine shouted back.

“and don’t lie ‘cause we all see how you look at him!” Marlon immediately added in, one of his infamous giggles slipping out mid-sentence.

“and Mike ain’t innocent either! boy be lookin’ like a lost puppy when you around!” Tito chimed in, causing the three brothers to erupt in laughter together.

huffing quietly, you took a step back from the door and leaned against the nearest wall as your gaze shifted to Michael, who was sheepishly covering his face with his hands — presumably due to the embarrassing statements from his brothers.

“…Mikey?” you called softly, your voice barely audible, as Michael peeked through his fingers and looked over at you before slowly — almost reluctantly — lowering his hands from his face, knowing that neither of you could avoid the conversation that was about to happen — at least, not anymore because of his meddling brothers.

“…yeah?” Michael answered back, his voice quieter than normal, as he slightly pursed his lips together before tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, a gesture he always managed to do when he was nervous.

you slightly parted your lips to speak, but nothing came out but quiet stammers that only fueled your embarrassment, causing a small comforting smile to form on Michael’s face.

“hey, hey, it’s okay… d-do you want me to go first instead?” Michael offered, finding your bashful stutters adorable, as your mouth closed and you slightly nodded, a shy smile spreading across your features.

“yeah, if, um… if that’s okay with you.” you finally managed to put a sentence together and crossed your arms across your chest to ease your nerves as Michael slowly nodded his head and swallowed hard, trying his hardest to maintain eye contact with you while he nervously toyed with the hem of his shirt.

“okay… okay, um… you know, we’ve been friends for a really long time now and, um, i really like spending time with you,” Michael spoke softer and more carefully, trying his best to stay calm in what he viewed as an embarrassing situation, “you… you make me feel so good inside. better than any other girl really has, honestly. so, um… i gotta’ tell you somethin’.”

you slightly stiffened and let out a quiet exhale as you slowly nodded your head, gesturing for him to continue while your arms slightly tightened around your chest, “…go ahead, Michael.”

“i…” Michael hesitated a bit, going quiet for a moment before exhaling shakily, “i like you… i really like you. and, um… my brothers been tellin’ me that you like me too, but i… i wanna hear it from you personally… please.”

Michael’s plea nearly made your knees buckle and you let out a soft breathless laugh filled with relief and lingering anxiety, a smile spreading across your face at his confession.

“oh, Mikey… i really like you, too. i wanted to tell you sooner, but i didn’t really know how to bring it up because the thought of it made me… nervous,” you admitted timidly as Michael smiled back at you and your arms slowly uncrossed, feeling the weight of your confession leave as quickly as it came, “i do hate that we had to confess like this, though… think i might have to fight your brothers after this.”

Michael giggled at your comment and you giggled with him, your combined laughter in the small room easing the lingering embarrassment in the air and causing both of your shoulders to slowly drop in unison.

“so… could i ask you somethin’?” Michael asked, his smile softening, as he took a small hesitant step towards you and you grinned a little before nodding your head.

“yeah. anything.”

“would, um… would you like to be my… girlfriend?” Michael asked bashfully, gently toying with the hem of his shirt again, as your eyes lit up and a wide smile quickly spread across your face, excitement overtaking you and completely diminishing any trace of shyness.

“yes! oh, yes, Michael!” you squealed as you suddenly threw your arms around Michael’s neck and pulled him into a tight embrace, catching him off guard and making him stiffen before he slowly melted in your embrace and reverently wrapped his arms around your waist.

Michael lowered his head into the crook of your neck and inhaled the scent of your perfume as his large hands splayed across your back, holding you against him while the two of you stood there silently holding each other and basking in the new beginning of your relationship — the shift from platonic to romantic sending gentle chills down your spine.

the two of you stood like that for a moment, your surroundings seemingly fading away the longer you were in each other’s arms, before Michael raised his head from the crook of your neck to properly look down at you, prompting you to raise your head from his shoulder.

meeting his gaze this time felt different, but in the best way — his gaze was softer yet more intensely, seeming overcome by joy and love that he couldn’t help but to look at you as if you were the best thing that ever happened to him.

“could i ask you somethin’ else?” Michael asked softly, searching your eyes, as you smiled a little and slightly nodded your head while you maintained eye contact with him, “can i— may i… kiss you?”

you blinked once, then twice, and that was when realization dawned on you and you realized that none of this was a dream. your best-friend-turned-boyfriend Michael Jackson just asked you for a kiss… and by this point, who were you to deny what both of you had been secretly wanting?

“yeah… yeah, of course.” you answered quietly, slightly nodding your head again, as Michael smiled a little at you and the two of you looked at each other for a moment before you began leaning towards each other in unison, your nose slightly brushing against his before his lips locked with yours.

the kiss was soft and tentative, both of you testing the waters and not trying to scare each other off, but once the two of you got used to the feeling of your colliding mouths, the kiss deepened. his mouth moved slowly against yours and you maintained that rhythm, neither of you wanting to rush this sweet moment of intimacy you had been denying yourselves.

however, the universe seemingly had other plans because the closet door suddenly flung open and every single one of Michael’s brothers now stood there watching the two of you, you and Michael breaking the kiss at the sound of the door opening as your heads snapped towards the doorway.

“ahh-ha, i knew it! i knew it, i told y’all! i told y’all they was in here kissin’!” Marlon squealed, giggling through his banter, as the other brothers erupted into laughter with him and Jackie shook his head instead, though a content smile rested on his face at the sight of you and his younger brother wrapped in each other’s embrace.

identically sheepish grins spread across you and Michael’s faces and Michael immediately turned away from his brothers to shield his face as you buried your face into his chest with a muffled groan of embarrassment, which somehow only fueled Marlon’s amusement because he started laughing even harder than before.

“Mikey, i swear i’m gonna kill Marlon.”