This blog belongs to Black woman, all stories posted here are for ages 21+ as there will be explicit content written. This is an lgbtq safe account, and will not tolerate disrespect. 💜✨
Warnings: major themes of blasphemy, absolutely down right disrespectful to religion. Oral (f) receiving, fingering, manipulation tactics, disorientation, dub-con. MINORS DO NOT READ!
Word count: 2k
a/n: Ummm literally nobody asked for this, I was left unattended pre-mania, and post mania. In fact this was inspired by that promo Drew did the Monday week of Mania. Which if you’re a Drew stan I feel like we could all use some good chaotic content after that Philadelphia screw job. So here it is…unhinged, 100% pure crack, I hope you all enjoy, I was kinda nervous about sharing this. Like reblog, leave a comment and follow for more.
You walked into the large Catholic Church a friend of yours had recommended a while ago. It was familiar in a sense where your eyes seemed to land on it every time you drove past it on the way to the market. You haven’t been in a church of any kind since you were a teenager, and at this point you’re not even sure if you believe in God. However, recently you’ve been struggling with, to put it in your mothers words,‘treating your vagina like a Hell Mouth.’ After last weekend where you picked up a guy from a bar, that one ended badly, and at some point you were being stalked. Your best friend Shamus handled that though, the sleaze wouldn’t be bothering you anymore.
Your heels clicked against the perfectly waxed wooden floors, and that’s how you could describe the whole church, perfect. Pristine condition, it made you feel like the hour long hot shower you took before now wasn’t enough to feel like you deserved to be here. For a second you pause when a man, whom you assume is the pastor, slowly turns to you from where he stood at the altar. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat, ‘goddamn he was hot,’ you thought to yourself.
“May I help you, miss?” He asked, his accent thick, and his tone gentle. His gray-blue eyes watches you with curiosity, he gives you a once over, suddenly you wish you wore a longer skirt. Absent-mindedly you pulled at the hem of your skirt in an attempt to adjust yourself.
‘Tall, dark, handsome, and Scottish. Fuck I’ve hit the motherload.’ Once again caught up in your thoughts, the sound of him clearing his throat jump starts you back into reality. “Oh, um…I came to confess?” You wanted to kick yourself for how ridiculous you sound, his lips slightly turn upward into a small smile. With a bemused expression on his face, he let out a soft chuckle. That’s when you noticed the dimples in his cheeks, they brought a youthfulness to his face.
“Are you sure?” He questions teasingly, you roll your eyes, instantly relaxing, and oddly enough feeling like the two of you were old friends. He chuckles again, then takes a few steps towards you, and the closer he gets, the taller he becomes. “Please excuse my humor, I’m Father Andrew McIntyre, why don’t you sit, and talk to me. Tell me a little about yourself.”
Suddenly you feel shy under his gaze, when his large hands envelopes yours, the warmth of him, and the glint in his pretty eyes cause fluttering in the pit of your stomach. Peaking at him from under your long lashes, you silently agree, and let him lead you over to the front row seats.
“Okay, well um, I haven’t been in a church in years…” You trail off, the handsome priest is quiet, and inventive as he hangs onto your every word. Naturally you began to ramble, dancing around the actual reason you were there.
“And the reason you’re here is because?” He asks, trying to steer you back on task, he sat studiously. His dark gray suit seemingly straining against his large muscles, he watches you expectantly.
“Polyamory seems to be causing me a lot of trouble…but I don’t know how to stop. I just see a man, and instantly I’m attracted to them. Next thing I know, I’m in their bed.” You explain in a quiet, bashful voice. Your eyes looking past him, you’d rather stare at your hands than Father Galloway’s judgmental eyes. He didn’t speak, but nodded his head for you to continue, so you did. “I don’t even feel bad about it, in fact I love it, sometimes I…ache for it. Being pent up, walking on eggshells all day, and finally being able to just totally let go. Just this sense of being an absolute animal with another stranger, it does something to me.” And that’s when you began to feel like you said too much, your breath hitches when your gaze met his.
“Well it seems like we’re in quite a predicament here.” He said deeply, his eyes darkened, and his hand smoothly slid up on my knee. “There’s only one way I could help you my dear, would you like to know?” The way his touch heated up your entire body wasn’t lost on you, but you tried to swallow it. You could see Jesus’ face in the stained glass window from your peripheral. Getting horny under the eyes of God seemed absolutely sacrilegious, but that didn’t stop your nipples from hardening painfully.
You swallowed, then nodded your head, “yes.” Your voice sounded uneven, as if you were fighting yourself, as if you didn’t even trust yourself around this man. Little did you know, you weren’t the one that shouldn’t have been trusted.
“See, the only way for me to extract this sinful behavior out of you, is to fuck it out of you.” He explained carefully.
To say you were baffled by the words this man just uttered was an understatement. You blinked a few times trying to wrap your brain around what he just said, and you looked around the church just to double check that you were indeed in a church. “I– isn’t that the exact opposite of what I should be doing?”
“Do you think you’re in any position to question a man of God y/n? Trust in me, this is the way; to have a release so great that you would never again think of another man’s touch again.” His hand softly trailed higher up your thigh, his other hand grasped your chin, and forced your eyes to meet yours.
“You’re feeling it now aren’t you? That carnal desire to be raptured, tore apart, and devoured.” His large hand slid down your cheek caressing it, then down the base of your neck, and when he got to your breast he ghosted over it instead of touching you. Your breath caught in your throat, for a second you could have sworn his eyes flickered a bright red, but when you blinked they were back to that gray-blue color. You shook your head trying to snap out of whatever trans he had you in.
“This…this is wrong I mean, no I’m not doing this.” Quickly you stood to your feet, and though you found it weird that he didn’t stop you, you don't question it. You’re halfway to the exit when a wave of heat passes over you, and straight between your thighs. A sensation so strong it weakened your knees causing you to grab onto the end of a wooden row. “What the fuck?” For a second you looked over your shoulder to see the priest still standing where you left him. The corners of his lips turned upward, you turned back feeling your hands shake, and you squeezed your eyes shut. When you opened them, you were back in the front of the church, but now you were laid out at the altar. Your vision was a bit blurry, all you could really make out was all the candles that were lit around you, and that fucking image of Jesus in the glass window.
“What the fuck?” Your voice croaked, you tried to move but quickly realized your hands were bound together. “Priest–
“Please, I prefer you call me Father.” He walked into your line of sight, you tried to blink away the fog, but mainly the sweat that had fallen into your eyes. He grabbed you by the chin, gently this time, and dabbed away the sweat around your forehead and eyes. A wave of heat ripped through you once more traveling down your body, and right between your thighs. Your clit throbbed almost painfully causing your back to arch, he let out a deep chuckle. “I have a new proposition for you, I will soothe your aches anytime you please.” He paused, thankful you had a drop of common sense left because you knew there was a clause, he snorted, “well I’m glad you didn’t think it was that easy, smart human you are. I will soothe your aches anytime you please…if you become my new toy.”
Before you could answer, heat rolled through you again, this time causing a painful sting to your nipples. The sensation of something warm pressed against your clit, but when you looked up, Father Andrew was standing in front of you. “What are you doing to me? Who are you? What are you?” You moaned out, your hips moving back and forth with the motion of whatever it was that was teasing you between your thighs. Head thrown back, and eyes closed, something was bringing you closer to release. Right when you were on edge it stopped, then you realized you were holding your breath in anticipation.
“Prolonging the inevitable I see, that’s fine, I have nothing but time my sweet little mortal.” He teased, then took his index finger, and dragged from your neck down to your stomach. It was then that you realized you were left in your bra and panties. He drew circles with his finger just below your belly button, slowly a ripple of pleasure began to stir in a heated sensation. Your skin prickled as you began to feel hot and cold at the same time.
“Please.” You begged, your body squirmed around in discomfort, and desire, a conflicting urge.
He laughed at you darkly, “you can’t even comprehend what you’re begging for. Though, it’s not like it matters, I could smell the stench on you from the second you laid eyes on me.” His voice modulated to a baritone, and boisterous volume.
“I’ll do it, I’ll be whatever you want, just please.” You pleaded weakly, another wave of heat washed over you, and if you were standing you’d probably fall over. Right when you thought he was going give you what you wanted, his hand slowly trailed down from your belly button, and down between your thighs where he stopped. His large hand cupping your cotton covered cunt, your hips rocked forward, desperately trying to gain some kind of pleasure.
“All you have to do is say yes, be my pet, give yourself to me. And you’ll never go looking elsewhere.” He offered again, and when you thought about it, it really wasn’t a promising deal. Then your nipples painfully tightened, and your clit began to pulse, suddenly logic left you. At this point sweat was lining your hairline, and pooling between your breasts.
“Fine.” You panted out of breath, “I’ll do it, I will be your pet. I’ll be whatever you want just please, I need it.” Finally you caved, that’s all he needed to hear, and before your very eyes he transformed. Dark black horns grew to a point from his head, his muscles, and chest grew larger causing him to rip out of his suit. His eyes morphed from that stormy blue-gray to a blood red, and the smirk on his lips deepened. Traces of dark clouds rolled off of him, as you tried to look upon him, an intense wave of pleasure rolled through you. You cried out, “god!”
Father Andrew chucked deviously. “God isn’t here! Call back later.” He teased in a melodic voice.
“What are you?” You asked out of breath, your eyes were screwed shut because clearly looking directly at him in this form was a mistake.
“What am I? Depending on who you ask, I’m a sexy beast.” He answered arrogantly, you opened your eyes to rebuttal and nearly jumped out of your skin from his sudden proximity. “Don’t you dare look away, look me in the eyes when you speak to me please.” He demanded, reluctantly you opened your eyes, he was gorgeous, a point where you were almost jealous. His dark hair had grown longer, almost covering his eyes like curtains, and his lips plush and pink.
Your back arching off the wooden cross you were strapped to, your breath shuddered when his large hands grasped your thighs, and spread you apart. Already you were aching, throbbing, and slick. He ripped your panties off you as if they were nothing, a slight breeze caressed you causing you to cry out again.
“Yesssss, let me hear you, I love those weak human moans you’re letting out.” His tongue licked from your cheek, down your neck and between your breasts. You wanted to rip yourself in half, by the end of this, you’d known for sure you’d be a fend. He reached up to undo your tied hands, your hands ran through his silky soft hair gripping them as tightly as you could. He let out a guttural growl, his lips found yours pulling you into a sloppy, wet kiss. Picking you up in his large muscular arms, he laid you out on the altar, without needing much talk, Father Andrew stuffed his face between your thighs, and began to lap at your already dripping cunt. “Ah!” Your head fell all the back, you weren’t sure if there was legit something wrong with you or if it were the effects of Andrew’s abilities, whatever thoes were you weren’t sure, but something about how fucked up this whole scenario was turned you on even more.
He looked up from between your thighs, the corner of his mouth pulled into a sly grin. “Mmm you're just what I needed, a little pet that would do anything I told her too. Mmm.” He mumbled between licks to your clit, you lifted your hips to his mouth, and his hands held onto your ass keeping you there. You rocked back and forth on his face desperately, your hands found his horns, and held onto them tightly.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You cried over and over, you were so close you could cry.
“Now that’s not how we confess, is it?” He teased letting go of your clit with a pop of his mouth, then without giving you much of a break he slid one thick finger in as deeply as possible. “Forgive me Father for I have sinned…” he trailed off, then closed his lips around your clit again, restimulating your little brown bud.
With the air left in your lungs, “f-forgive me father.” You trembled, but you tried again, deciding to try and fight through the waves of heat, and fluttering in the core of your body. “Forgive me father, for I have– OHHHH!” Just like that you squirted all over Andrew, and yourself making a complete mess. Your heart thudded, and your vision was slightly blurry, you blinked a few times trying to clear the fog. All you could do was lie there while your muscles tried to relax, but the waves just kept coming.
“It’ll stop after a minute…or two, poor human body wasn’t even prepared.” Andrew laughed at you, ‘evil bastard,’ you thought to yourself, but he was right, it subsided after a moment. When you finally mustered the strength to sit up, you brought your knees to your chest wanting to be covered under his observatory gaze. His form had gone back to how it was originally when you first stepped into the church. His chest was still bare, and now that you looked at him half clothed, you could tell by his physique he was no average man. His arms, chest, and neck were ripped. His arms and legs were ridiculously long, this man’s stature was unbelievable, yet here he was standing before you. He was covered in a thin layer of hair from his chest down past his navel.
“I know, it’s a lot to take in my pet, but you’ll adjust in time.” He said softly, he walked over to you, and kneeled on one knee to meet you eye to eye. The Ruby red irises are long gone, but that’s when it dawned on you.
“Adjust?” You wondered out loud, more so to yourself.
“Well you didn’t think I’d let you go after that? Oh no, you’re…perfect.” He purred, his eyes glossed over with desire. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his hand dragged over his chin, then tasting the wetness you sprayed over his face.
“You can’t just keep me here.” You fussed, not like it would do much.
“I’ll be whatever you want.” He mocked your words from earlier, and instantly your stomach dropped, regretting your decision. Once again letting your pussy think for you.
“And what I want you to be is my pretty little toy, now I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain…it’s your turn. Don’t worry though, I’ll let you walk out of here tonight, but don’t try to get smart. You have my mark now.” Andrew grinned, in all his years of doing this, they never seem to learn, but you were close to breaking his spell the first time. Your will was your own, but you were too insecure to know the power over men you had.
Before you had a chance to question him, the inside of your forearm began to burn, but nothing like the heat you’ve experienced before, this was worse. “AGH!” You screamed as it felt like your flesh was being burned, you looked down to see a symbol you didn’t recognize. “What the fuck?”
“That is my mark, just think of it as a tracking device, and an anti human make repellent rolled into one. And before you start fussing, it’s the human male population I don’t trust darlin. Anyways…don’t worry about coming to me next time, I’ll come to you. Wherever you are.” He rattled off quickly, then snapped his fingers before you could fuss, you blinked and you were back in bed. Sleep clothes already on, and everything. You wanted to argue but you were hit with exhaustion, your eyelids too heavy to keep open. The second they closed you were out, that night you dreamed of him, Andrew McIntyre, but you had yet to learn of his true name.
A/n: I’ve been mulling over rather I should do any type of sapphic/ wlw fic for a very long while just never knew how to go about it. Plus the “BBL Bayley” line was the finale straw lmao. Anywho I just really wanted to have fun with this, the idea of Bayley being down bad for a plus size Black woman just make sense in my spirit. This is not edited like at all, I typed this whole thing on tumblr which is a risky move iykyk. I hope y’all enjoy, let me know if you want more. Reblog, and follow for more. ( follow my wrestling side blog for even more wwe fics @slutouttanowhere )
Spin
You typically wouldn’t be in the club till 3am, but it was Wrestlemania weekend, everyone was acting bad. Like on their worst behavior, there were three different hotel parties going on as the company had rented out the whole establishment. You, Liv, and Naomi, your inner click, was hotel room hopping. The last room you ended up in was the most unhinged, of course this happened to Damian, and company, hotel. As soon as you crossed the threshold someone was handing you a red solo, despite the fact you already had a mini, clear cup in your hand from Austin’s room you finished off the mini cup, then moved on to the red solo.
“Oh shit! The champs in the building!” Damian’s loud ass voice shouted over the music, everyone turned to us cheering, and raising their drinks. On cue Naomi and I raised our new shiny golden titles, a group of our colleges swallowed the three of us into the mix. ‘Aye, it’s 7pm Friday, it’s 95 degrees.’ GloRilla’s thick Memphis accent cut off any words you planned on saying. You were already too gone to care about acting professional, the liquor getting the best of you. You hopped into Damian’s arms, wrapped your legs around your bus waist, and screamed along to Glo’s lyrics. “I’m about to show my ass, these niggas love a freak!” You popped your ass while hanging off Damian like he was a jungle gym. Which you know he loved, he made a habit of him being one of the biggest men on the roaster his whole personality. And he was an attention whore.
The liquor was making the room sway, you hadn’t even noticed when you were out back on your feet, but when the music changed again your body moved accordingly. You stumbled to a near by couch and threw your title down, it being far to bulky for you to dance in, however Dolph made it look easy all these years you don’t think you could pull it off. ‘This type shit have you wildin…’ you swayed your hips, slowly twirling them in circles, and your hands caressing your body. Another pair of hands wrapped around your waist, they pulled you into them, you didn’t care who it was, as long as they caught your rhythm. That they did. “I thought I seen that ass walk through the door.” Bayley softly breathed into your ear, her lips pressed to your earlobe, a soft giggle came from her. Which isn’t too out of character for her, Bayley is known to be a bit of a goof, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice her going the extra mile to get more than a chuckle out of you. Your eyes slid down her body, you weren’t used to seeing her wear all black, but her one piece, black body suit accentuated her curves. The embellishments of lace detailing throughout the outfits added a sexy touch to it without doing too much. She had a diamond, Cuban link, a matching bracelet, and an expensive looking watch on her wrist. Her eyes caught how your tongue flicked out, and slid over your perfect white teeth. Your lips pulling back into a grin.
You leaned your body against hers, your outfit more than revealing allowing her to feel your skin with ease. “You’re so soft y/n.” She whispered, her hands pressing to your midsection, and gently squeezing your tummy. You reached behind you, and wrapped your arms lazily around her neck. You could feel her buzz cut from on the side of her head, you always thought Bayley to be pretty, beautiful even. As of recently though with her character change, her wardrobe, and the way she carried herself changed as well. It made you look at her with brand new eyes, she even started talking to you with more convictions as if she just knew she was gonna get you into bed with her…and she was.
You turned in her arms to face her, the pit of your stomach full of butterflies, the alcohol lingering, so you held onto that liquid courage as long as you could. “Kiss me.” You murmured under the blasting music, ‘we can’t just keep talking about, we think too often about it, we can’t just can’t be cautious about it. I wanna get wild.’ You noticed how she slowed her movements, Bayley knew you didn’t care too much about labels, or much about what others thought of you. However, dancing together was one thing, you and the other girls are usually touchy with one another, this was something else.
“You sure?” Her hands held you by hips, she didn’t make a move till you nodded your head. Her hand gently grabbing her chin, your gazes locked, under this lighting you couldn’t really tell what she was thinking. You let your bodies do all the talking, she pulled you into her, she isn’t the tallest, but she talk enough to tower over you. Your eyes fluttered closed as your glossed lips pressed to her, at first she kissed you back softly. The pulsing between your thighs caused you to become slick with your own juices, you had no idea how you were still standing on your own two feet right now. Between the effects all the shots of Cos Amigos, and the way Bayley squeezed your ass, all your coherent thoughts flew out the window. You and Bayley’s eyes fluttered open at the same time, a lustrous look in both your eyes. “You’re so damn fine y/n, you gonna let me taste you?” Bayley pecked at your lips, you stuck your tongue out, and she met you half way. Your tongues swirled around, slipping, and sliding in a wet tangled kiss…if you can even call it that.
“I want you to slurp it Bay.” You moaned out, your nipples twisted painful. The fabric of your shirt top making you regret not wearing a bra with it, it was too late to go back now. The two of you weren’t even dancing anymore, just slowly swaying as you held Bayley as close to you as possible. Her hands slid up and down your back relaxing you beyond what any nights sleep routine could.
“Mm, I bet your pussies so pretty too, I daydream about it. What you taste like, what you like between those beautiful thick thighs of yours…” Bayley went into detail about how your pearl is pretty and brown, and your plushie your labia lips probably were. At a certain point you didn’t have it in you to actually pay attention to because now all you could think about was how fucking pretty she looked. The lighting was purple, but it looked good on her tan skin. Her dimples pushing in on her cheeks every time she talked, and that fucking half shaved buzz cut was doing it for you more than she understood.
You pressed your index finger to her lips, “and you can show me all that in a little while.” You shushed her playfully, you thought it was cute when she rambled, but tonight wasn’t the night for that. “When we get back to my room…I wanna see all that shit you promised.” You purred, you pressed your lips to her again, this time you met each other in the middle of a deeper, hotter kiss. Reluctantly you pulled away, caught your breath, and looked around the hotel room. It looked trashed, the big crowd that was originally al in the center of the room had fanned out. A lot of your colleges were either passed out, on their way, or drunkenly chatting another persons ears off. You caught Liv and Finn off in a far corner damn near dry humping each other, his bucket hat clinched in Livs hand as he sucked on her neck. ‘I told him about that damn hat, it’s a hoe magnet.’ You thought to yourself, Naomi was no where to be found, but knowing her she was in the bathroom on the phone with Jimmy.
“You ready to go? I got your title.” Bayley wrapped an arm around your waist, and pulled you back into her side. You could feel yourself sobering up as the minutes passed by, but that didn’t disrupt your desperate need to have Bayley between your thighs.
You kissed her on the cheek, and took the title from her hands, then took her by the hand. “Yeah.” You spoke ever so softly, if it weren’t for looking directly at your lips you would have thought she didn’t hear you. Without anyone caring to notice, you and Bayley slipped out of Damian’s room, making the long journey back to yours.
Warnings: age gap, oc is in her twenties, mentions of biting, and blood.
a/n: I feel like I’m long over due for a Remmick fic, and originally there’s more to what I’m posting here. For now I’ll just give y’all this little blurb, I hope y’all what I have so far. It’s not beta read or anything, I was just up at 4 am listening to Leon Thomas, and for some reason this is what came into my mind. (Ps, go listen to that song btw 🥴)
The club was packed wall to wall, the scent of desperation and liquor in the air. The music was too loud to have any conversation, but that’s just how Remmick liked it. Why waste breath on words when you could jump straight to the chase? A pretty little thing slid past him while he was standing in the middle of the sea of bodies. “Excuse me.” Paris mumbled regardless of not being heard, but Remick heard her just fine. His nostrils flared to inhale as much of her as possible, cinnamon, and vanilla lingered in the air after she passed. He flicked his tongue across his bottom lip tasting her air like a snake. The spice of the cinnamon hitting the back of his throat.
He followed her from a distance, the packed club seemingly parting for him as he walked through. He could feel the bass of the rap music vibrate through his body, ‘everything litty I love when it’s hot’ the flute, and the production of the music influenced his walk. Originally in a hurry to make it to his new prospect, but Young Thug's slurred rhyming encouraged Remmick so slow his swagger. She unintentionally led him to the bar, it wasn’t too crowded, but there were enough people around. He watched as she bopped her head in sync with the music, she easily mingled with some girls around her age, based on their conversation they didn’t actually know one another. “It’s lit!” They shouted aloud with the lyrics, Remmick turned to the bartender, he kept his drink simple.
“Old fashioned, thank you.” Remmick's accent lost in the noise of the club, even after years of traveling across the world, Ireland still clung to him.
“Let me get two shots of Don, and a margarita with lime.” Paris ordered with confidence, she hadn’t noticed Remmick yet, it wasn’t till he reached over the old wood of the bar to grab his drink, she glanced over her shoulder at him. She looked mean, but Remmick knew better. Her face was round, soft, and pretty. Her eyes were a striking hazel brown, she didn’t look too long, but it was enough to assess how he stood out amongst others. “This nigga wearing shades…at night.” She mumbled to herself, to which he chuckled, the bartender served her drink. She took down her first two shots of tequila, but took a moment to sip her margarita. She slowly licked the salt off the rim, then squeezed the lime juice into her mouth. She then moved back to the dance floor. Remmick waited for a while before he followed back after her like a predator. The music changed to a slower R&B rhythm, the smooth vocals reminded him of a young man he met many years ago in the Deep South. Remmick liked this artist, Leon Thomas, ‘Warm and gushy, always feeling right, she like rich niggas, I'm her type.’ He preferred slower rhythms most of the time. Or really anything that could make him feel something deep in his dead soul.
Paris was dancing with a group of girls from earlier, they had seemingly found each other again, “shit sorry.” Someone had pushed her into Remmick, causing her back to press against him, she had turned around to address him, but he caught her by the waist.
“Don’t worry darlin, I got you.” He had ducked down low enough so that he could press his lips directly to her ear, and sneak a whiff of her scent. He could feel her heart racing from beneath his fingertips, his hands placed near her upper body over her rib cage. Even behind his shades he could see her cleavage, the neckline of the dress dipped, highlighting her large breast. One would think she was on a hunt of her own with a sinful dress like that. From the way she felt in his hands, squishy, and full figured. Exactly the way he loved his women, though her waistline dipped in, her hips flared out. Her thighs are juicy, and her booty poked out, full, round, and thick. Her body wasn’t completely rigid, but she was hesitant regardless. He touched her so confidently, one hand slid up the front of her resting on the swell of her tummy, and the other resting at the base of her neck. She could have slipped away, if she wanted to.
Remick held her against him, “I know what you are…vampire.” She had turned in his arms, and he let her. The corners of his lips twitched, he seemed shocked by the acknowledgement, his eyebrows pulled upwards. They stood motionless in a sea of swaying bodies, he held onto her wrist loosely, letting her decide how things moved from here. Despite Nana's warning when Paris was a child, she was feeling reckless.
“Mm, and what're you gonna do about that honey?” Remmick playfully challenged, he grinned flashing his fangs at her, he watched her eyes widened. He could see the excitement in her eyes, her reaction was entertaining to him. In his experience most humans are begging to get away from him, or trying to burn him alive, whichever came first. This, however, was new territory for him.
Paris giggled, she knew in the back of her mind this was the most insane choice she’s ever made. But all her life she secretly wanted something thrilling, something dramatically different. She bit her lip and pulled him in by the collar of his jacket. His hands found their way back to her hips, they slid down to her lower back, feeling her soft skin from the cut out of the dress. His hands fell dangerously close to the curve of her booty. “Make me like you.” Paris demanded, her hips slowly winding to the tempo of the music. She could see herself in the reflection of his shades, but unbeknownst to her, she was hypnotic in her own way. Her hips winding to the beat, her breast pressed up against him, and her blood rushing was developing a hunger within him he hasn’t experienced in quite a few decades.
“Right here, in the middle of this club?” Remmick was already pressing his lips to her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. His tongue could taste the spice that clung to her neck, the smell of cinnamon and vanilla intoxicating him. His breathing heavy, drool dribbling from his mouth, Paris moaned, she arched her back, her head tilted upward giving him full access to her neck. The lights were dark enough so that onlookers wouldn’t see his true face, though he’s not sure if he cared at this moment. Enraptured by his desires, and bloodlust.
He trailed kisses from the base of her neck, down to her breast where he buried his face between them. He inhaled as deeply as his anatomy would allow, it was there between her mounds he discovered where the vanilla half of her perfume was coming from. “Surely not with so many people around?” When he pulled up, Paris took his glasses off his face, and put them off herself.
“I don’t give a fuck.”
“Maybe I should warn you…I’m a selfish man, you won’t just be a vampire, you’ll be mine for allll eternity.”
“And what if I have a boyfriend?” Paris finally confessed, her lips curled into a tiny smirk. She let out a giggle, her arms wrapping closer around his neck letting him hold her full body weight. The music had picked up tempo, but her and Remmick stayed in slow motion.
“Not anymore darlin.” Remmick finally sunk his teeth into her neck as deeply as possible trying not to rip flesh. Her soul was a conflicted one, always fighting between light and dark. Fighting between who she truly wanted to be, and who others needed her to be. He drained her till there wasn’t an ounce left, he even licked up the blood that spilled from his mouth and onto her. He threw her over his shoulder, and carried her out of the club with inhuman speed. The sun would be up soon, and the last place they needed to be was outside.
Summary: Michael calls reader up to the stage during a concert. (Their first meeting).
Warnings: lots of ‘you’ and ‘your’ used, y/n used, fan x celebrity, fem!reader
Word Count: 778
It was the year 1987, almost the entire world had caught word of Michael Jackson going on tour and doing meet and greets. Tickets sold out quickly for every concert, but luckily for you, you were able to secure yourself a ticket to the one in your city, and a chance to meet the one and only King of Pop, Michael Jackson. You dressed up, wanting to look nice when you met your celebrity crush. Your friends were really jealous that their friend was going to Michael’s concert, especially getting to meet him.
The lights were down low when you entered the stadium. It was packed and left hardly any room for movement unless you were far back — and even then it was squishy. You refused to be in a position where you couldn’t get a clear view of Michael, though, so you forced your way closer to the stage. Eventually, it went dark and a bass started playing. You recognised it all too well as the beginning of a Michael Jackson song, signalling that the concert had officially started. The crowd held their breath as they anticipated Michael Jackson’s appearance on stage. There was a movement in the shadows then sparkling light appeared. The crowd, including yourself, screamed as soon as they saw Michael. People yelled his name, “Michael!”, and “I love you!”. He smiled before he began to sing and dance — his iconic moves.
Multiple songs played then everything paused. Michael decided to speak to the crowd. “I have a question for everybody,” he said, “who would like to come up here and sing a song with me?” Immediately there were thousands of raised hands and shouts. Michael chucked softly and his eyes scanned the crowd. You weren’t shouting, but you did have your hand semi-raised with an excited and hopeful expression, although you knew he wouldn’t pick you.
“Settle down, everybody, I’d like to be able to announce who I’ve chosen,” Michael said. After a couple seconds the crowd went quiet as they anticipated Michael’s next words. Then, he pointed. Right at you. A few women that were surrounding you pointed at themselves, Michael only shook his head lightly and pointed you out verbally. “The very pretty girl with the sparkles — yes you. Don’t be shy, I don’t bite.”
You couldn’t believe it. As you tried to make your way through the crowd towards the stage, you were trying to figure out how Michael Jackson could have possibly chosen you. Of all the thousands upon thousands of people in the stadium, he chose you. This was like a dream come true. Finally, you walked up the stairs that led to the stage, with some assistance from security. Michael was standing, waiting, and watching as you approached anxiously. He held his hand out and you took it, your stomach fluttering and heart pounding as you did so.
“Thank you for coming up here. What’s your name?” Michael asked with a soft smile. He angled the microphone in his free hand towards you and you answered, “y/n. My name is y/n.” Michael smiled and his thumb caressed the back of your hand gently. “Well, everyone, meet my new dear friend, y/n,” he said to the crowd before turning back to you. “You seem very anxious, would you like a hug, y/n?” Michael asked sincerely. You nodded and smiled nervously, feeling a bit flustered that you would get to hug Michael Jackson. He let go of your hand to pull you in and wrap his arms around your shoulders. Your arms circled his waist and you breathed him in as you buried your face in his chest. He smelt like safety and a warm, comfy bed. The moment felt surreal.
The two of you broke apart and sang a song together, he was much better than you of course but it was the best experience ever nonetheless. You never wanted to leave. “You were amazing, y/n. I want to talk to you more after the concert if that’s okay with you,” Michael stated with a small, nervous smile as he waited for your reply. You couldn’t keep the hugs smile off your face when he said that. “Really? Yes, I would love to!” You said excitedly, which made Michael smile. He was glad. “If you don’t go anywhere when the night finishes, I’ll be sure to send a bodyguard to come get you and bring you backstage. Thank you for coming up here, I enjoyed it thoroughly,” Michael said before you left and rejoined the crowd. The concert continued, and you didn’t feel the same after. Your mind kept wandering what might happen after the concert.
Part 2 coming soon…
Hmm I will definitely make a part 2, lmk if you want that and also if you would like to be added to a tag list for part 2 and any other MJ fics I will make !
I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s absolutely wild to me that there’s Micheal Jackson fan fiction in year of our lord 2026? Mind you I’ve been reading fanfiction as early as middle school, that was like 2010s for me. Which I’m 26 now. I was really only around for the ending of Micheal’s career in the 2000s which feels nuts btw. I love this for him though, because I feel like fan fiction gives an opportunity to give him the image in media I felt he deserved vs what he got. Especially towards the 2000s from what I personally can remember. But this ate I loved it, idk what I’d do if Micheal ever noticed me I’d fold stg.
Dry humping. Titty fucking. Thigh gap fucking, thigh riding. Mutual Masturbation. Solo Masturbation. Just making out without an escalation to sex. I will be bringing it.
a/n: hi so, it’s been a while right? Right. Apparently I’ve had this sitting in my google docs for god knows how long, and I thought it’s bout time I posted something? Also forgot I added @cardierreh15 into this lmao. I do hope y’all enjoy this cute little vibe, I might write more of this pairing tbh. But do enjoy!
‘Kissin and hoppin they caught us, whether they like it or not, I wanna show you off…’ Doja Cat’s Agora Hills plays in the background. Mike had come over early that morning to spend the day with me. We were supposed to go out, but in the midst of me finishing up getting ready, things took a different turn. “Damn you look good, what’s that Fenty?” He stuck his head through the bathroom threshold, his chocolate eyes held something anomalous within them, and his lips were pulled back in a playful smirk. His dimples pressing into his cheeks adding a youthful flair to him. I turn the upper half of my body to him, in only my bralette and matching panty, his eyes drop to my booty. I grin as the beat drops again, he’s already taking off his denim jacket, and throws it over the door.
“Hold my hand, you can hit while they watch boy.” I sang along to the words, and rolled my body to the tempo of the music, one arm in the air. I hike my knee up on the bathroom face bowl, and pop my butt back. Mike grabs a handful of me with both hands, he buries his face in the crook of my neck, and inhales my perfume. Butterflies flutter at the pit of my stomach turning into desire, and traveling down right between my thighs. It reminds me of the first time we officially met each other inside the Met.
“Norielle Woodard! Look at you, you look ethereal. C’mon over here and talk to me.” Cardíerre Taylor-Johnson stood off to the side with a microphone in hand in front of a cameraman, and question cards in hand. Norielle carefully made her way over to her long time friend, and co-star, making sure not to trip in her heels. Seeing her cry for help through her almond shaped eyes, Cardíerre reached out a hand to steady Norielle. The theme that year was ‘All The Stars: Self Expression Through Fashion’ Cardíerre was fitted in a Thierry Mugler dress. From the breast to waist is a golden plated cast, with pinkish-rose gold chiffon fabric. She looked like a Roman goddess.
“You look gorgeous as fuck, what the fuck Cardi?” Norielle’s mouth dropped open, her eyes widened in astonishment, and took a step back to get a better look. Cardíerre let out an airy laugh, her smile bright, and her teeth perfect. Before Cardíerre could speak, Norielle’s eye dropped down to Cardíerre’s breast, “Goddamn.” She blurted out, the look on Cardíerre’s face caused Norielle to burst out into laughter.
“Jesus Nori, my eyes are up here.” The two friends giggled for a moment, it took Nori a few extra minutes to contain her laughter. Cardíerre rolled her eyes as she’s had enough of the goofiness, finally the interview was on its way. They chatted for a moment about the Met, and how amazing it felt for them to be surrounded by so many of their idols.
“So, we talk about fashion all the time, and how we try to incorporate our personalities into a bit of everything. Tell me what does tonight’s theme ‘All The Stars’ mean to you?” Cardíerre held the mic for Norielle to speak into. It didn’t take her long to think of her answer, “Well, if you think about the stars, and constellations in the sky at night, they all shine differently. Each constellation has a different shape from the other, and tells a different story, with a specific purpose. Ya know, I’m very dramatic, and I’ve been inspired by alternative, gothic like fashion since I was a young girl. So I was blessed enough to have been able to work with Alexander McQueen, and we collaborated on this dark victorianish design. And I just love it so much, with the florentine neckline to show off my twins, it’s also vegan leather and it’s giving medieval.” Norielle paused to let out a giggle, she took a breath before she carried on, “So that’s what I think we are meant to showcase tonight as stars in our own right. Showing our individuality through fashion, and oh, how everyone looks so stunning. Everyone really brought it this year, and I’m gonna shut up before I start crying.” Norielle pulled a tissue from her small clutch and dramatically damped her eyes. As the interviewer is wrapped up, and the two said their goodbyes Norielle made her way towards the notorious red carpeted staircase that led inside.
All was going well, she moved up the stairs slowly, or as slowly as was humanly allowed without looking like you were on an acid trip. She stood mid way up the staircase, posing so that her curves were more defined, she gave the photographers as many pictures as she could. Eventually enough was enough. By the time Norielle turned to take another step up she missed a step, and tripped. In an attempt to not fall face first she put her arms out in front of herself, and it did soften the blow. Audible gasps of shock, and worry could be heard all around her, she wanted nothing more than to be swallowed by the stairs. Only a few seconds had passed —though it felt like an eternity—when someone’s large hand gently touched her shoulder. Norielle lifts her head to see Micheal B Jordan standing over her with his other hand extending in offering. When their eyes locked something like a static shock sent a wave of rejuvenation through her nervous system. She knew he too felt the same thing, he looked taken aback by their sudden connection. Norielle took his hand, he grasped her firmly, and let her weight lean on him as she pushed herself upwards.
“I just embarrassed the fuck out of myself.” She whispered with a shaky voice, eyes burning with unshed tears, and a nervous smile on her glossed lips. Still holding onto her hands, he gave them a reassuring squeeze, and held her gaze. “Don’t even focus on that, let’s keep moving up, and then we’ll be inside.” Wordlessly Norielle nodded her head in agreement allowing Micheal to link arms with her as they ascended the stairs. Her heart was pounding so hard it nearly caused her pain, but then his voice began to speak calming words in her ear. In the midst of all the camera clicking, eager photographers fighting for the best shot, and buzzing conversations, they clung to each other the rest of the night.
When the night wrapped up, Cardíerre and the rest of Norielle’s friends were stealing her away for the evening. She managed to get his phone, and add herself as a contact as ‘Nori.’ When he called her at 5am the next morning they talked for hours, the beginning and of an inseparable relationship.
I planted glossy kisses all over Mike’s face, pressing my lips to wherever they could find a space. His muscular arms pull me in impossibly closer, my arms wrap around his shoulders. Some would say our relationship is dramatic, but I would call it passionate. “So I take it we’re not going out anymore?” His grip relaxes upon hearing the strain in my voice, his lips graze over the shell of my ear barely kissing it before he pulls back. “Yeah no, I’m not feel it anymore baby.” He apologizes sheepishly, a feeling of relief washes over me because once he came in here with his bullshit I was no longer in the mood to be outside in the public either. That’s just how our relationship went, majority of the time we’re the same person, and I couldn’t be happier about it.
“Raising Canes?” I offer playfully, a knowing grin growing onto my lips, Mike pulls back, and his own smile mirrors mine. The dimples in his cheeks become more prominent, he dips his head down to kiss both of my breasts, the giggle that came from me turns into full laughter. “You go get changed, I’ll finish getting ready and we’ll just go get food and come home.” I pushed away from him halfheartedly, only after sneaking one last kiss from me did he leave me be.
On our way to Raising Canes the radio blasted too loudly for either of us to hear how terrible we actually sounded. I turned it down for a moment and turned to him from the passenger side of the car. “So, what do ya wanna watch while we eat?” We pulled into the drive through, as we sat in line, and waited for our turn to order Mike thought hard about it. A smile breaks out onto my face, I can practically see him doing the math in his head. “Hey, I take my tv watching to eating ratio very seriously.” He quips half heartedly, finally after what felt like forever he lets out a breath, “You know what I’m gonna say right?”
“Naruto?” I guessed without hesitation, now his smile mirrors mine, he leans in closer to me from his side of the car, his lips curl into a smirk. “Me, and you…right here.” He taps his temple with his index finger, and extends his hand for me to dap him up. “Same wavelength baby.” The hand slap turns into the fireball jutsu hand sign from Naruto, Micheal took what felt like hours teaching me that, so best believe we use any opportunity to do it. When it was our turn we ordered our usual combo meal, with extra fries, and sauce, then made our way home. As soon as my feet touched the inside of the house I was already sliding my shoes off, and removing my sweat pants. I got comfortable on the couch as I waited for Micheal to settle next to me, when I turned to see his bare legs I nearly choked on my spit from laughter. “What? I wanna get comfortable too!” I didn't even respond to him, instead I turned my focus to the tv, and turned on Netflix. Relaxing on the sofa, and watching anime, in my underwear was not how we thought the day was going to go. But I’d rather be doing this. Three episodes in, and half eaten take out, We were cuddled up on the couch in the living room with the tv blasting. I had just begun to doze off when I felt his hand slip into my underwear, and squeeze my booty. When I look up at him, his eyes move from the tv to me, the lust from earlier had crept its way back in, and I knew he wasn't going to let me sleep till he ate his desert…to be continued
